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demonicheadcanons · 3 years

Text

Obey Me Brothers + Little Affections

AN: Keep thinking about the little things each brother would do to express affection. Some warm fluffy stuff because we all need it. Enjoy!!

The hair drying one on Lucifer’s sparked this entire thing thanks

Lucifer

- Washing and drying your hair. You know if you get your hair washed at a hairdressers and they just. Go to town with a towel drying your hair? He finds it hilarious and loves doing that. You’ll hear him chuckle, unable to see him because your face is covered by the towel. He’s softer towards the end but initially when trying to get most of the excess water his only concern is not actually hurting you. He’s also genuinely trying to help, just having a little fun with it at the same time.

- Continuing on from this, Lucifer will ruffle your hair. If it doesn’t really upset you, he loves to make a mess of it, and he grins at you, your hair sticking out every which way.

- The second his brothers aren’t around, he seems to canonically love holding your hand under the guise of keeping track of you or comforting you. Its partially true - the MC gets into trouble easily, so its good to keep a hand on them. However, the comforting affect goes both ways.

- Sharing information with you implies a close bond (or at the very least, a strong curiosity, like when he hints at where Mammon’s card is / when he talks about the album) and it means Luci cares about you a lot. He likes to talk about his interests and introduce you to things he cares a lot about. A lot of the time this comes in the form of music, because it’s something he’s able to enjoy whilst still doing his work.

- Doing origami or other paper crafts together? Really relaxes him. It’s so peacefully intimate and cosy. You sit together at his desk, work documents hidden out of sight for now, and make whatever you can out of colourful little bits of paper. He likes making flowers, although he’d never say it out loud, but he makes you countless crowns with paper flowers of all different kinds. You walk in one day when he’s taking a break from work and he’s got paper cranes lining the entire length of his desk. He calls you over and puts one on your head for absolutely no reason before acting like it never happened.

- If no one else is around and he’s feeling a bit daft, he’ll sweep you up into his arms with no warning and just hold you like that, staring directly into your eyes with a daring and loving smile on his face. This happens most when it’s late at night and all the coffee he’s had is starting to wear off and he feels a little more relaxed and open. He’ll carry you to his room to cuddle, too, if you don’t have anywhere else you need to be. Just pray none of his brothers encounter you two because he’ll set you down on your feet immediately and he won’t help you up if you fall.

[[Other Brothers under the read more]]

Mammon

- Fist bumps!!! He passes you and holds his fist out, and pouts if you don’t immediately bump your hand into his. Do the snail or turkey thing once and he falls in love with it. Lucifer, tired and stressed after a lot of work, decides for once to go along with giving him a fist bump because he’s too tired and no one else is around, and Mammon does the snail thing. The look on Luci’s face is worth everything that happened after. But when its you, Mammon just smiles and beams at you. He’s really happy.

- Sitting so close together that you can’t possibly move without disturbing the other. Sides fully pressed together even if he doesn’t have an arm around you or your hand in his. He likes the constant contact, it’s healing. So heavily invested in whatever you’re watching that the two of you simply don’t realise how close you are until the episode ends and you realise you’re leaning your full weight against him and his face is red but he’s smiling so softly you can’t bring yourself to move.

- You’ll have to start the habit, but, tackle hugs. You see him in the distance somewhere and sprint over and tackle him full force. He’ll act mad at first, especially if he trips and falls over or he’d been talking with someone else, but he holds onto you tightly and his face is beautifully flushed. After a while he’ll do it too, although he’s a lot gentler, but if you hear him call your name you need to turn around quickly and hold your arms out. He’ll lift you up into the air and twirl you around once or twice before just, going on with his day as normal. You hear his laughter as he walks away, bright and bubbly and confident, exactly as he should be.

- The absence of insults is important for Mammon. He’ll tolerate it if it’s every now and then but he’ll really notice if you’re always kind to him, he pays attention and holds tightly on to every compliment you give him. When he feels low he finds you and holds you in his arms, fingers playing with the loops in your jeans, as he recites off every nice thing you’ve said to him, hoping you’ll reaffirm them. Did you mean it when you said he was one of the most caring people you’d ever met? When you said his eyes made you feel at home?

- He likes feeding the crows with you. It’s something he does without telling anyone, but one day he takes you out along with him and the crows take a liking to you instantly. He likes how you look with his crows standing proud and confident on your arm, your hair a mess from their flapping wings as you laugh and try to get the last bits of food out from the bag.

- If you style his hair and put random accessories in it - anything from silly plastic hair clips to flowers to feathers - he’ll keep them in all day. He doesn’t care who sees because his MC spent their time doing this for him, and he’s happy to tell anyone who dares criticise him.

Leviathan

- He’s awkward with any affection at first, but he actually builds up to quick tight hugs when he’s really happy. If he’s incredibly excited - just won tickets for something, or some idol liked his comments - expect to be tackled in a hug. He gets flustered after, but if you hold tightly onto him he won’t let go immediately.

- If they even vaguely relate to his own interests, Levi will try hard to be invested in anything you really enjoy. For example, he’ll watch your favourite shows with you or try and read things you enjoy, etc.

- At the same time, Levi will share his interests with you. It’s not something he can really avoid doing as it’s ingrained in him to ramble about his special interests, but it will come in seemingly smaller forms - for example, he’ll hand you his headphones one day, blushing, and ask what you think of this song, or he’ll show you a paragraph in a TSL book that has particularly good rhythm or evokes a lot of emotion. If he lends you his books or DVDs it’s practically a proposal.

- You two have full conversations with Henry as he swims about in his tank. About silly and pointless things or very serious topics, from jokingly scolding him to venting about the future and about school and such. It warms Levi’s heart.

- Horn pats. When he’s in his demon form, pull him down to your level and pat his horns. He’s so flustered he can’t move the first few times, but one day he’ll start coming up to you and asking you if you want to do it. He likes being able to be in his demon form, and likes that you’re comfortable with him even when he doesn’t look as human.

- When he’s very comfortable with you, he likes to wrap you up in surprise hugs and laughs if you try to squirm your way out of his grip, a brilliant mischievous glow in his eyes, any self-consciousness long forgotten.

Satan

- I’ve said this before on another post but Satan likes to pet your hair and run his thumbs over your palms, pressing into them gently like he’s touching the pads on the paws of a cat. He traces circles and presses kisses into your palm and over each finger tip and knuckle, like it’s his own form of worship.

- It takes a long time to build up the confidence to do so but I can see him like. Playfully nipping at your skin if he presses light kisses against your shoulders or neck. If it makes you laugh or blush he smiles against your skin.

- If you fall asleep somewhere he’s the first person to go get a blanket to throw over you - he’d rather just let you sleep if you’re somewhere safe instead of disturbing you to lift you elsewhere, and risking waking you up. Occasionally he’ll kneel down beside you and stay there with a book until you wake up, and he’s fallen asleep like that once or twice.

- Just. Talking. Laying down together and going from topic to topic, saying whatever crosses your minds with no filters and no judgement. Letting time pass by with the comfort of the other, laying on your back in the planetarium or library or in his room, wherever there aren’t books piled up. No responsibilities except to listen to the other, and every now and then you laugh and he feels like maybe this could be home.

Asmodeus

- Sharing things, whatever it is. Food, clothes, jewellery. Taking a necklace off and putting it on him because “this would go so well with your outfit,” or holding out your fork and telling him to try some of your food, it tastes heavenly. Perfume, as well, is a must - he wants the two of you to smell the same.

- Like Mammon, he likes to have some kind of contact with you at all time - holding hands, an arm across your shoulders, anything. But the main point of contact he truly adores is if he has his hands on the skin of your stomach or back, even in the most innocent way possible. If his arms are around you and you’re comfortable with it, he’ll tuck his hands under your shirt and trace shapes against your hips, stomach, back, lower ribcage. Wherever he can. It’s something he’ll do absentmindedly without everything thinking about it, and it recharges him when he’s low on energy.

- He actually really likes working alongside you, whether it’s school work or something related to a part time job, or a potential business idea. He’s smarter than anyone would give him credit for and he loves how you look when you’re deep in thought, trying to solve something, and how your eyes light up as you figure it all out. He’s not one to just give you the answer to things, so if he knows something and you don’t he likes to hint at it like it’s a game. When you guess the answer right he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose and beams at you.

- Late night phone calls where you talk about whatever’s keeping you awake. He doesn’t mind who’s calling who, he wants to ramble or listen to you at any given moment and he’ll give up his sleep if it means you can get something that’s bothering you off your chest. Similarly, there is no greater comfort for him than getting to complain to you about something or other, something that’s genuinely bothering him and that’s stuck in his head. He feels like it only disappears when you take a hold of it for him for a little bit.

Beelzebub

- Sharing food, obviously, means a lot to him. Feed him bites of your food, give him anything you don’t want, and he’ll love it. He especially loves if you share food that’s important to you in some way, and you’ll find him giving you little bites of his food too the closer you two get. It means a lot to him when people embrace the fact that he eats so much, instead of scolding him for it or making jokes about it.

- He really likes holding hands. Your hands are so small in his and yet you trust him not to injure them as you pull him along. He feels possessive sometimes but isn’t outwardly affectionate enough to do anything about it, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. It’s the perfect thing for him.

- Stacking random things on the other. Sitting cross-legged in a park, pulling daisies out of the lawn that’s about to be mowed anyway and gently placing them into each other’s hair, on the other’s shoulders and laps. If you’re laying in his bed he’ll take random light objects off his night stand and place them on top of you. There’s no purpose and no intention, and yet it makes him smile and gives him butterflies, and he laughs if you glare jokingly up at him but let him continue.

- Run your hands through his hair, down the sides of his face, under his jaw. Anywhere. He melts in an instant, mouth slightly open as you poke his cheeks or tickle his neck and shoulders with feather light touches.

Belphegor

- Nap. On. Him. Any time, any where. Snuggle up to him, lean your head against his shoulder or bury your face into his neck or lay down on his lap and just rest. He blushes every time and it takes him a second to recover. Sometimes he’ll angle himself so he can lean against you two and he’ll fall asleep as well.

- He likes those kind of monkey hugs where you wrap your entire body around him and he can bury his face in your neck and hold on as tight as he wants. He’ll walk around like that until you get to the attic and he can throw you into his pile of pillows and blankets, and he flops down on top of you and clings onto you again, trying to hide his face because he’s smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

- He loves playful, back and forth banter. He’ll tease you constantly, loves if you pout at him, loves it more if you retort with something and keep it running for a while before the two of you start laughing.

- Being childish. He’ll stick out his tongue at you or pull a sudden face and he expects you to do it back immediately. If you don’t he’ll poke and tickle you, telling you how disappointed and hurt he is.

- Headbumps! But not too hard. Gently bump your head against his shoulder to get his attention and he’ll pat it. Bonus points if you nuzzle into his hands then - he’s hard to fluster but you can hear him swallow as he starts to go red. You’ll immediately have all of his attention to yourself.

- Belphie is the king of silent conversations. The tiniest gestures, nods, tilts of the head. He can pick up on all of them, knows exactly what you’re trying to say without you saying it, to the point where sometimes you won’t even realise you’re not talking aloud.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me Satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #I might do more later but this is all I can think of right now #obey me headcanons #my headcanons #my writings #queued #there are little bits of angst if you squint hard enough

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yanderenightmare · 3 years

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How would the yanderes react if their darling was the one to initiate intimacy/sex for the first time, and how do you think their darling would come to that point? (stockholm syndrome? being touch starved/deprived as punishment? etc.)

thirsty ! BNHA imagines

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon/dubcon, abuse, profanity, anxiety, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

-ADDICTION

She was riding for dear life, chasing that light at the end of the tunnel.

Eyes tightly squeezed shut as she hopped up and down, sliding upon Bakugo’s impressive girth, moaning each time his tip poked into her cervix as she clapped down onto his lap again and again and again and again, harder and harder, deeper and deeper, hitting knew spots upon new spots, messaging uncharted territory, rearranging her organs, poking and prodding and fitting so snuggly and perfectly inside her she could all but start crying from the bliss of it all.

She was crying. Hot tears streaming down her cheeks, numb with how warm she was, feverish and febrile and growing madder with pleasure, drunk and drowning in euphoria.

“Fuck.” He stuttered out his gruff moan, barely holding onto her hips anymore.

He'd been inspired and insured that it would be fine to let her move on her own now, knowing he’d made it clear enough she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him being satisfied first, thinking she was showing so much enthusiasm simply to make him come quicker.

He hadn't yet sensed how desperately she was chasing the same release he was, especially since he’d already made sure she came twice before they even started. Once on fingers, once on his tongue. He wasn’t at all thinking she was preparing herself for a third time, especially not on his cock.

Having left her to do all the work for a while now, having been rendered completely blissed-out and awestruck with feeling her eager movements on top of him, he couldn’t really care much for how pathetic a mess he must have looked beneath her.

His eyes scrunched together to hold onto every sharp movement of her hips, lips pursed out and puckered with his grit-teeth, his cock standing proudly, pushing into her again and again at such a fast pace he was barely able to feel his climax coming dangerously close, too numb with pleasure to part it from his release, but as his balls were emptying inside her he shot up into a sitting position in favor of lying down, needing to hold her still so he could pump his load without it spilling, arms reaching around her to keep her pushed down and impaled on him.

She tried humping for more friction even in the tight secured lock, rocking into him, kept snug against his chest, trying so desperately to reach with his cock what was screaming inside her.

He made some indication he was done. His thick arms losing their grip around her torso, head resting on her shoulder as he panted, not yet understanding what hell or heaven he was in for, taken by surprise, by overwhelming panicked surprise.

“No!” She roared out her little whine. Her smaller hands protruding nails digging into his chest to push him back down on the bed, then continuing to ride despite feeling him tense beneath her.

He tried moving again, fearing, panicking because of his overstimulated cock being continuously pleased almost enough for it to be painful. The hunger already quenched being kept fed, drowning the thirst, so much he felt as though something might burst.

Her hands moved to yank his hair, pulling him back to rest on the pillow, her other hand pushing, seizing around his throat, violating his Adam’s apple, forcing him to gasp as he choked both on the action itself but also at the sheer controversy of it all.

Her mouth hovering above his own as he groaned from the pain of having his hairs ripped from his scalp and his vocal cords abused, whereas she only moaned in return, too concerned with feeling every inch of her being on fire to care.

“Oh fuck, please, Katsuki, please, more.”

Something tight tugged in his pelvis at the same time awe blossomed in his chest at the sight of her and those pretty eyes looking at him with tears and that sweet crinkle of plead between her brows.

His name dripping from her tongue like honey as she continued going up and down the length of his oversensitive cock, slipping even easier in now when coated in his cum. Her thighs sticking to his in juices as her head dipped to lay against his chest while she continued slapping, jumping on his cock with an unrelenting, unsatisfied determination.

His cock throbbed inside her, nearly crying, screaming with something playfully akin to aching, a pressure building again even as he thought it impossible.

She was stabbing herself with his cock, squeezing and seizing and fluttering around the blade, driving him mad.

But as soon as he got over the feeling of bursting, could he pull himself back.

Grabbing her waist and hoisting her off him, she nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.

He pouted in mimic, condescendingly. “Is the little slut begging for more?”

He grinned maniacally as he mounted her, surprised to see and feel her desperately trying to get closer as he pushed her down into the sheets beneath him, lining himself up with her sopping greedy cute little cunt.

He only teased for about a moment more before impaling her on his length once again, pushing all the way into her in a mere swift second, dragging a real pornstar-beautiful moan from her, gleeful to see her squeal with pleasure as he began thrusting into her sharply, angled to hit that sweet blissful spot inside her.

“Be a good girl and cum for me again.” He growled and she swore she felt it like thunder in her stomach, like explosions, like lightning striking. “That’s what you want isn’t it?” The frenzy in his voice, once only terrifying, now made her toes curl and her head feel like cotton. “You want me to make you cum? You want to cum on my cock like a good slut? My slut? Come on, cum for me.”

She was being fucked completely silly.

Tongue falling from her mouth along with a string of wet moans and drool and his name. Her eyes swimming with tears as she tried focusing on his and the gut-churning look of feral dominant lust in the heat of them that had her pussy clenching around him, yet was barely able to hold his gaze as she was being fucked into a cross-eyed mess, feeling the pressure build and build and build and getting so close to bursting she was crying with how she was being kept from her climax by some unknown cruelty.

She just needed him to go harder, go faster.

She just needed more, she just needed him, needed him and his glorious cock to help her.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

-APOLOGY

“I hate you!”

It slipped before she was able to stop it, before she could reconsider, before she could save herself.

She watched with terror-wide eyes locked on his, awaiting whatever awful murderous intent he chose fit for her punishment, and was at once trembling.

Knees growing weak, apologies falling broken on her tongue as her fear’s need to cry outweighed her wish for recovery, resulting in simply blubbering on her sobs. Small frail hands reached out in protection, in a timid means of making him give her a second to gather herself as she fell apart with the painful fear that clenched around her heart, making it hard to breath, making it hard to see, hard to stand, hard to think, hard to do anything except for gasp for air, air that seemed to not want to enter her lungs quick enough.

“Hey, hey… breathe.”

She hadn’t even realised she’d collapsed, nor that Izuku had come to catch her fall, rocking her back and forth in his arms, head resting in his palm. Her eyes wide and frantic as she looked up at him for help, helpless in her crippling anxiety, anxiety he was the trigger of and seemingly the only source of comfort as well.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I take it back, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, please, forgive me, forgive me!” She gulped on shuddering breaths, sobbing, hysterical in her scrambling, so completely panicked, so utterly destroyed by her fear of him, knowing how those hands of his could hold the world just as easy as her head and her heart, where despite knowing that through and through she still sought out the comfort in how his fingers stroked through her locks, petting her calm.

Her hands, retrieving more and more mobility, reached up to fold across his back.

“I don’t hate you, I’m sorry, I’m just stupid, forgive me, I’m just ungrateful and spoiled and stupid.”

Tears rolled down her face as she propped herself up in his lap, hands desperate as she intertwined them in his locks, fervently trying to make up for her mistake, trying to prove she was able to correct herself, that she didn’t need another lesson, another one of his mind-shattering bone-crushing lessons.

The fact that he’d forced her into a perverted set of lingerie had fallen to waste, the fact that he’d been lecturing her about how she belonged to him, how she had no right to disobey him, how she was just a dumb little girl in a world too big for her to ever possibly understand, how she was good for nothing but being stress-relief for him. None of that mattered anymore.

What mattered was persuading him into taking enough pity on her to let her indiscretion slide.

She just needed to beg enough, she just needed to grovel and plead and cry enough.

“Sweetie…” He hummed, no anger present in his voice, but then again, there never was. Tone always laced or dripping with honey, giving no hint as to where his mindset was or what he was about to do.

And all it managed to do was make her cry harder, hold onto him tighter, fear climbing higher.

“It’s okay, Sweetie… I know you didn’t mean it.”

His words were all but reassuring, as she was waiting for the other side of the coin to show its face, waiting to hear his but’s and if’s and punishments and corrections, waiting for those hands of his to show her, to prove to her what she already knew yet let herself forget, that she was a small helpless stupid girl and he was nothing short of god.

“But…”

And there it was, her worst fear, her worst nightmare, all sounded in one word.

She couldn’t let him continue, and by god she couldn’t let him finish.

Wet soft bloated lips met, or rather pushed, forced themselves upon his stiff ones, suffocating all reprimanding comments, all and everything he was about to say.

She shuffled into a cradling position on his lap, body and chest glued tightly in his embrace, hands running, tangling, gripping desperately onto the emerald locks at the nape of his neck, lips whimpering upon his ones, as though begging them to kiss back.

That desperation tasted delicious on his tongue. How she sat on his lap like some wounded animal, begging for the kind and nurturing hand of their master to help soothe the pain away.

He wasn’t about to discourage that type of behavior, that form of apology.

She wasn’t ready to take his cock, but then again, she never was with how gifted he was and how cursed she were. His cock being so threateningly huge, just like the rest of him.

But given the rest of him was just as threatening, she could manage, she could survive taking but one of his limbs rather than having all his brutal strength take care of her.

So she buttoned up his pants, trembling fingers working hurriedly, spiked by fear of both what was to come and what would come were she to stop. Her mouth still laying sloppy tearful kisses onto his lips, as he didn’t seem to mind just how much she was sobbing to please him.

She was at once stroking him when he was out, her other hand rushing to save her own life as it messaged her clit, trying to warn her of what was to come, what needed to come.

Still he hadn’t said anything, still let her slave for him. Though that might be for the best in this case.

His large hands placed palms down on the floor, simply supporting him as he leaned on them.

When she broke off the kiss, he was about to correct her, yet she ducked quicker, wrapping her warm and wet lips around his cock and giving th head a swirl with her tongue before pushing down as far as she could, glucking on him so eagerly and desperately, rendering what reprimanding movement was to come of his hand to an encouraging petting of her head instead.

She only sucked for a brief moment, leaving the proudly bobbing spit-slicked pole cold once she parted with only strings of drool connecting them. She shuffling back up to align him with her entrance hurriedly.

Her lip quivered as she looked at him to search his stoic features, her body frozen, left to simply hover and sway above his impatient member, as she tried her best to quickly brace herself for the pain she was about to feel.

But then his patience wavered, and strong hands griped her hips and forced her down to take the cock, impaling her as he sheathed himself fully, earning a high-pitched screaming whimper from her.

She fell to his chest, hands tugging his shirt to steady herself as she winced at the feel of him tearing her apart.

“Silly me…” He chuckled, the sound cold and gut-wrenching. “Rewarding you when I should be punishing you.”

She breathed sporadically, hitched and hiccupping.

“I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve it-”

Agreeing was the only course of action for her, the only thing she could afford.

“That’s right, you don’t deserve it.”

But the world is far from fair.

TODOROKI SHOTO

-DISTRACTION

He was coming.

He was coming and nothing could stop him, nothing could change his mind, nothing could help and nothing could save her, except maybe the next worst thing.

Bargaining pain with unwanted pleasure, the price being her pride, her dignity, her strength.

It would happen anyway after he was done making pretty artwork of her flesh, after he’d tampered with her limits long enough.

She had the chance to skip to the end. But the price remained her spirit, steep like her fear and heavy like her mind, heart and soul scaled together.

And yet, she made the gamble.

It was either she let him bite, chew and swallow her heart and spirit and soul on repeat or she bit back.

This was her biting back.

This was survival of the fittest.

This was her surviving.

She needed to take her aim now or never, before he did it first. So, she barreled the arrow, struck the bow, leveled her hawkeye and took the shot.

“I love you, Shoto.” She proclaimed.

Arrow flying, hands smooth in receiving his chest before he could tug her towards him. Meeting his hungry approach with a focused desperation of her own, dedicated as she pushed him back so that he was the one sitting and she was the one on top for once.

Hands gentle, without much pressure, drumming up the bruises and scars of his chiseled stomach, one side cold, the other hot.

“Will you let me show you how much I love you?” She questioned.

Time to see if the arrow had hit, lips pressed firmly to his forehead a short second later, before pressing one against his temple, careful to not hurt him where the skin was scarred and sensitive around his eye, then one against his jaw, and neck, and shoulder, and chest, trailing down further and further.

He stirred once she kissed on a particular cut, his hands coming to hold her back as he began sitting up.

Yet she was firm in her resolution, her own hands pushing his shoulders down.

“No, no...” She tutted, tone still soft. Not at all as though she was giving him a demand. Not at all like how he thought a command should sound, what he’d learned his mistakes would grant him from those people he trusted.

Not at all like his father’s voice of tyranny and terror.

“Let me take care of you.” She whispered it, and his heart clenched with memories of how his mother would patch him up after training.

The arrow well planted in his chest now.

“You just lie back...”

She kissed his cheek then, adamant she’d make him cry, make him become soft, help him, to save herself.

“Relax....”

She kissed his lips then and she swore she heard him whimper like a kicked pup, all fragile beneath her, broken and just a boy rather than the cruel man she knew him to be.

And then he was crying. Softly and quietly, but crying nonetheless. Thin streams of saltwater running down the corners of his pretty eyes.

He looked so vulnerable then. Vulnerable like glass, no… like ice melting.

And when the ice had finally melted she could either swim or drown in what ocean was left behind, all depended on how softly she handled him, where one wrong word would make him sharp like bladed icicles again, and the right words would keep him like this. Small, weak, needy, tame. You can only kiss storms when you’re right in the eye of them, where one misstep will send you flying, falling, to your despair, to your death.

She could make no mistakes.

She aligned her naked sex up with his. The steam in the room layered thick with dew on their naked bodies, alongside nervous sweat.

“You and I are the only ones that matter in this entire world, Shoto…”

She sat down, hungrily ripping a groan from his chest at her almost brutal pace, and she moaned as she dipped down to lay herself on his chest, feeling him sink and twitch inside her, fill her up so perfectly, like two things falling into sync, like yin and yang, like balance.

“It’s only you and me between heaven and hell.”

She whispered the words like a chant, like witchcraft, the breath of them tickling his skin as she kissed down his pelvis, still firmly planted on top of him, hand trailing after, running over him smoothly and precisely, careful in their venture, before dropping down from the loft of his hips to entangle her small breakable finger in his destructive hands

“And everything else is just falling snow…”

She rocked her hips, like a smooth wave rolling into shore, thighs cradling his torso snugly, keeping him safe and trapped beneath her as she continued lolling forward on repeat, tentatively feeling after the pressure his hands gave hers, how tightly he squeezed, if it were a form of encouragement or discomfort, their wrists laid on the warmth of her thighs.

“I love you, Snow-Angel.” He cried, voice jagged and so far away from anything she’d ever heard.

And though this was what she’d been aiming for, having it enrol before her was a frightening type of uncharted waters she hadn’t at all any knowledge of how to tackle.

And that fear, the fear of drowning, increased so spectacularly when he sat up.

His fingers slipping from hers, leaving her control and wrapping around her torso instead, tightly, so tightly she feared he’d break her spine.

And then the heat followed, the blistering heat.

And then the cold, the promise of frostbite.

But then… he was still crying...

Crying like a toddler into her shoulder, nuzzling in her neck and all those terrifying and painful promises seemed to mellow, leaving her unscathed yet panicked, as without the pain she had no way of knowing when or where to go, resulting to her simply sitting there, comforting her captor, speared on his cock of her own choosing, with his tears running down her back.

Her heart beating painfully rapid in her chest as she slowly and unsurely raising her freed fingers to wrap into his dual-coloured locks, petting his head and hoping, praying she wasn’t falling prey to any false sense of safety.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

-HABIT

They were doing what they always did.

Simply lounging.

Slugged on the bed, in each-other’s arms. Sickly sweet fumes in the dank room. Air thick like a cloud, dark and grey and matt.

The walls having been erased or rather blurred out into nothing, leaving them there, floating in and about nothing, each-other’s warmth the only constant.

Where in the complete lack of scheduling it had become like schedule, like ritual to simply lay and do nothing, then do something that threw them back into exhaustion which in turn resulted in yet again doing nothing, except maybe sleep.

The day lacked much, and in its lacking there were certain expectations, certain instincts and impulses that had arisen inside her.

She knew something was coming, anticipation, she knew something was supposed to come, and yet they still laid there and did nothing, when they were supposed to be doing… well… something, so that they yet again could go back to doing nothing.

It was safe to say her head had become rather empty at this point.

“Are we forgetting something?” She felt the need to ask, felt the need to hear Dabi tell her, give orders in where she should go and what she should say, something not allowing her to feel the terror of why those necessasties had become second nature or why she found refuge in them.

He mumbled in return, tone dark and scratchy like gravel or coal, evoking something to twist in her lower abdomen and purr with pleasure. “And what would that be?”

Dabi’s hand still fingered a rolled blunt, perfect with his expertise and nimble lanky fingers. Hand dragged to his mouth to take the final blow, smoke puffed out into the small space of the bedroom, layered thickly in the air.

Her eyes puffy and watery and red yet remaining open out of habit. Her lips burned, or rather stung, prickled from the after affects, her mouth dry as though full of ash, and as she breathed she felt the scratchy raw feeling of her throat by how much she’d been coughing earlier.

Dabi was always certain she didn’t take proper drags, therefore resulting in taking the drag for her, locking his lips painfully tight around hers, blowing until her face turned red and he could be sure the smoke reached her lungs. He was never satisfied before her eyes glossed over, blank and stupid, blinking at him so softly, as all off her became softer and softer, both her gaze, her voice, her words, her actions, her thoughts, her resistance.

“I don’t know…” She honestly didn’t, all she felt was that something was missing, that she required something, or that something was required of her, the feeling that she was supposed to be doing something or have something done to her.

Dabi turned his head to look at her, inspecting her features, the cute confusion warping her face into a feeble timid expression, brows softly scrunched together, eyes focusing on nothing yet something as she raked through her empty head, her foggy ditzy subdued head.

A look of near endearment present on his face as he watched on for a second for the sake of amusement.

He cupped her cheek, her eyes quickly skittering to meet his, as though on command, knowing by instinct that was what she was supposed to do.

“Are you waiting for something, doll?”

Her lips quivered, and he could already spot the brimming of bubbling tears that came flooding to the surface. Soon to be spluttering out hopeless mumbles if he didn’t save her from the fall first. He was almost tempted not to, if only to scoop up what was left afterwards, put the pieces back together in whatever order he so wished, but he was feeling benevolent tonight.

His smile was soft as it neared her, deceptively so, kind and well-wishing, as his lips met with hers.

It felt like salvation, it felt like peace, it felt like all was falling into place, the way they should be, and she felt safe, no… she felt saved. From what? She did not know, as she had not the mind to care. All she had the mind for was to kiss back.

She moved more on her own now, with the reminder of his tongue in her mouth, the taste making her feel like she was being welcomed home.

Leg sweeping over his to plant herself in his lap, in her rightful place, feeling the all too familiar poking of his hard cock kept bulged beneath the comfort or discomfort of his briefs and jeans, brushing into and past the thin fabric of her cotton laced panties, soon to be drenched, as on cue, as though she’d been taught that would be best.

Her eyes were wide, wide with falling, with being lost, with wanting him to catch her, to save her, wide with waiting, hanging onto his every movement, as though incapable of doing anything on her own, as though only capable of taking orders. Just as he’d shaped her.

His finger drummed alongside her thighs where she knelt on his cock. His other hand doing the same, meeting where his jeans were kept on, unbuttoning, then zipping down, all so slowly, all to watch her features turn even more lost, into something that looked so adorably like hope.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He pulled his stiff dick out of his boxers, having it spring and stand proudly in the air, curved and pierced with all sorts of fun.

She licked her lips mindlessly, eyeing the pole, wanting, no, needing, no… compelled to pull her underwear aside, revealing what dripping drooling well-trained mess had pooled from her.

Feeling so utterly fulfilled, it feeling so positively right, as though what she’d lost was now returned, was she’d been missing she’d found, and what more, what she’d been missing had been missing her as well, hungrily so, painfully so. It was all she could think of when she eased down onto the towering pole until she was filled up to the brim, only to push down some more to envelope him entirely, feel him stretch and curve inside her.

More after that, she didn’t know what she needed to do, but she was sure she’d know once she got there, she was sure Dabi would be a saint and tell.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

-BOREDOM

She was losing her mind.

It was a horrendous type of silence. Silence that wasn’t really silence at all as it was cut and sliced and murdered and bled out into the tactless endless mocking clicking of Tomura’s consoler.

Sharp aggressive smacks where he thumbed the joysticks, quick slaps with his long veiny bony fingers slamming with unneeded force into fragile buttons.

She felt the sting in her temple, eyes squeezed so impossibly tight to a close as her ears sung with irritation.

“I’m done.”

She only barely recognised her own voice. Though she knew she mouthed the words and she knew she added timber and tone to sound them, but that whine, that sickly sweet defeat that laced the syllables, as though she were crying, as though she were begging, that wasn’t her, but that was who she’d become.

“You win.”

And she wasn’t at all sure if she cared anymore about her defeat.

“No… I’m about to.” He mumbled, eyes glancing to her briefly, split-secondly, before they swiftly, with lightning speed, stuck back to watch the bright screen a foot in front of him, the clicking made by his ruthless fingers never once stopping.

She wondered how such force was even possible, given he had to lift one digit on each hand in order not to destroy what he held so preciously. How he had the grip, the agility, the mobility and speed and precision was something that spurred through her mind each time she watched him go on, winning more so than losing. She guessed it was practice. Sometimes it would amaze her, somedays she would watch mindlessly as he sped through all levels, all ranks, all challenges, all side quests, win after win, wondering if it even posed any challenge, any stimulation when he seemed to complete them all with such ease and finesse, effortlessly.

Sometimes it would amaze her, but this was not one of those times.

She swore her ears were bleeding, they were screaming and crying and strangling all wishes she had of sleep. The bed was too soft and everything was too soft, too quiet, yet not quiet at all and she was so fucking bored, so fucking drained of everything and anything except irritation and the need for something and anything, something loud, something sharp to wake her up, something terrifying or something anything everything that could make her feel something anything everything.

She needed it, and she needed it desperately, all things aside, fuck who she was, and especially fuck that shitty fucking game he was playing.

“Fuck! Your stupid! Game! Tomura!”

She hadn’t even realized she’d slid off the bed and was standing on her numb feet, game controller snatched from him in one second and smashed to smithereens on the wall in the next.

She looked more shook than him, if he was being honest.

Nonetheless.

“What the fuck?!”

He was mad, no, he was fuming.

And she lived for it.

“I swear, you’re gonna pay-”

He hadn’t even reached her before her lips split into a grin, eyes like lightning awaiting the thunder.

“Gladly, punish me, do something, do anything!”

She wasn’t proud with her playful hinting, but you aren’t supposed to live your life without doing things you regret. And though she was playing spoiled brat for a notorious villain, the most dangerous individual she’d ever met, he also had a cock crafted by monsters that seemed to hit every spot it needed to, finding and creating new ones as it filled her up to the brim and she was salivating just by the thought of being split open on it, especially by seeing what mood she’d conjured from him.

But, even though her pride dripped from between her thighs, she was not too eager to plainly say that she desired his dick balls-deep within her needy cunt.

“What?”

He’d stopped in his tracks, eyeing her. And though some part of him wanted to believe what disgusting depraved thoughts he had regarding why she was seeking his attention, he knew better, rendering her annoyance to simply picking a fight with her captor, quite like a how child throws tantrums at their parents or prisoners riot.

Turns out her playful words did little to sway his thoughts regarding the situation.

“You’ve been playing your dumb videogames all week!” She whined, almost screeching. Eyes angry and lips pouty.

He wanted nothing more but to show her what bad behaviour would give her, but seeing how punishment would be giving her what she had requested, he wasn’t too quick to fold to his desires.

“It feels like I’m dying, make me feel something, anything…”

She was pleading he realized, and stopped in wonder at the revelation.

She was pleading with him, begging for him, for anything of him, anything meaning anything…

Yet… surely not what he wanted it to mean.

“No.” He forced on a nonchalant tone. “You smashed my controller, I’m not rewarding you for that, there are nicer ways of asking…” He drawled and turned casually to get back in his chair, pondering his need to purchase another custom-made console, thinking he had a couple things he wanted to fix anyway.

Was she really going to have to be so literal? Was she really going to have to bend over and beg for him to take her? Was she really going to have to serve him her heart, her spirit, her mind, and soul and body on a silver platter for him to take it?

She thought he was greedy. She thought he was depraved enough to hear what she was asking of him.

No way he was ignoring the invitation, right?

If that were the case, he could at least mock her for her begging, but he barely seemed to even recognise her change in attitude at all. Granted, she couldn’t really see much of his expression beneath that mop of hair.

She wanted to scream, pull her hair out of her head, yet as her knees hit the floor and Tomura sat back down in his chair, she realized she had but one thing to do.

Crawl.

She was silent, shuffling under the table, taking one gluttonous drag through her nose, mouth watering at the reek of male musk, his musk, Tomura’s musk, a smell so undeniably him.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to let him know she was there yet, but decided to be a tease and better prepare him for what she was about to do.

Experienced and confident fingers pressed a woman’s touch to his ankles, running skilled tender touches over the flexing of his calves’ muscles, despite feeling him tense beneath her. Undiscouraged as they went smoothly over his thighs to reach the hem of his boxers, reaching inside them to pull out what she was proud to feel thick and stiff and just as needy as her, warm and pulsating in her tiny palm.

Handling him delicately. First she licked her lips wet and gave the head a pretty popping kiss, before producing her tongue like a pillow for the cap and flicking the pink muscle from side to side under the sensitive skin that was already oozing with precum onto her tastebuds.

She her his breath stifle, but allowed him no rest as she closed her warm wet mouth around him.

He broke instantly.

Now knowing it wasn’t his mind playing tricks.

“Fuck! You win, you win!” He hissed, hand wrapping around her throat to pull her up from her conquering. “If I’d known what a needy little slut you were I'd have given you cock earlier. You should’ve just said so...”

They both giggled ludically as he threw her down on the bed, Thrill already bubbling up a storm on her insides with such lust to be fucked out of her bloody mind she was quaking from head to toe and screaming out her moan when he pushed perfectly into her wetness in one fell swoop.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

-NECESSITY

He heard the padding of her approach. Soft footed and gentle. Not at all like how she would usually stomp around in rage of being trapped.

He didn’t look up at first, thinking she didn’t want anything to do with him, as per usual, yet in his blurry unfocused vision he could spot she’d stopped in front of him, waiting for his acknowledgement, where he sat on the coach, undisturbed and undisturbing until now, scrolling through his phone.

He decided to ignore her, testing to see if she’d speak up and announce her demands, yet was surprised to see she stood there patiently, no words, no screams.

Curiosity getting the better of him he looked up, finding her standing there bare-footed, skin wet, towel wrapped around her, hair dripping, eyes leaking, though not from shower-water, but from brimming with tears.

His instincts kicked in then at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?”

He sprung from the coach, expecting her to push him away once he reached for her, yet was surprised to feel her attach to him, latch around him, welcome his warmth and his offered condolence instead of her usual rejection and snarling.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, why are you crying?”

He realized then that her body was quaking, seemingly febrile, so much plead knotted between her brows he’d never seen anything like it.

It made him concerned to say the least, eyes searching her body for any possible explanation in the form of bruises, thinking maybe she’d hurt herself, already scolding himself for having left her alone.

“Baby? What's going-”

He didn’t smell it at first, what with the scent being washed off and all at the hands of her shower, but the aroma was soon layered thick in the room, growing alongside her desperation.

A scent so heavenly, so lavish and sweet and ambrosial, already making water pool in his mouth.

Her shaking made sense then, so did the tears, and the desperation and the potent adorable look of despair written all over her pitiful little cute face.

“Oh… I see.”

He was going to take advantage of this.

He was going to ring it for every drop it was worth.

“Does my little angel need me?” His voice shed its concern swiftly, curling into something sweetly sadistic and salacious.

His fingers hung onto her chin, or rather, her chin hung off his fingers.

“If you ask nicely perhaps I’ll-”

“You’re being cruel.” She stated, voice so sweet, so vulnerable, breaking as she sniffled, bottom lip trembling so preciously, as he wasn’t sure the shower-water was instead not indeed sweat. Knees weak, arms heavy, head pounding, stomach hurting, eating her from the inside in desperate need to feed the bottomless hunger that was growing and weeping in her lower abdomen.

Her hand held loosely over her stomach, visibly shaking.

He ignored her statement. “That was a long shower…” It was an insinuating observation, cocky in its nature. “Were you trying to help yourself on the showerhead?”

He quirked a brow at him, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth.

“Trying to get out of grovelling for me, hm? Despite knowing how my cock is the only thing that can save you.”

He was gleeful, sadistic bliss tickling through his body, sending pleasure through every nerve, because he knew, he knew he was right and he knew what was coming. He knew she would fold, surrender, succumb, and he knew how grateful she’d be afterwards, dripping with his cum, eyes opium-blown, euphoric and fluttering, and looking at him with such wholehearted, such won-over love.

Though, know all that filled her eyes were glistening tears and swirling suffering.

“It hurts…”

His heart clenched at that.

She looked like a toddler, small and weak and helpless and innocent, as though if it weren’t for her predicament she wouldn’t be abusing every ounce of energy in her being to make him miserable.

How ironic, she being the miserable one now, all dependent on him.

“It hurts, please, please help me, help me, Keigo.”

She was aching. Her small needy hands coming to grab at him, to pull him closer as she sobbed, whining so beautifully for him.

“I need you, Keigo.”

He was getting wrapped up in it, hanging onto every perfect needy jerking she did to try and get closer, to try and help herself against him, licking it up as though he was parched

And he was, he truly was, she’d drained him dry, rejecting each and every proclamation of his love. She’d laughed at it, waged war against it, and here she was, finally, embracing it, begging for it.

He realized, he needed this just as much as she did.

He didn’t need anything weightless like a stupid apology, he just needed to hear her say those pretty words.

“I need Hawks.”

Her eyes grew dark, pupils blown wide with lust as her words were laced with such feral carnality.

His hands grabbed ahold of her ample hips, grinding her into himself, where she met his attack by effortlessly maneuvering her legs to wrap around his torso, hands cupping his face as she peered into his eyes, wanting to drown herself in the gold.

“I need you deep inside me, filling me up, wreaking me…”

Her lips hovered above his own as she clutched tightly onto him, begging with every inch of her body, clinging to him as though it were for her very life.

“I need your cum, I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk or talk or think or feel, until I’m numb and all I can see is you, all I can think is you, all I am is you and yours.”

He was left awestruck by the way she looked at him, as though he were the world, or her god, with so much love and so much desperate desire and fear.

A fear he’d come to know all too much chasing her. A fear of rejection, a fear of having her heart broken, a feeling that’s all too much like dying.

“I need your love, please, please love me, Keigo.”

He couldn’t refuse, despite wanting to have used this opportunity as a lesson, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her suffering and he most definitely couldn’t leave himself suffering now that his cock was hungry for the attention she was all too eager to give him.

SHINSO HITOSHI

-SUBMITANCE

She knew she should be disgusted, she knew she should be angry, she should be fighting it.

If she were the feral creature quite alike the lioness or tigress or any other wild cat, she should by law be scratching and clawing and snarling. She should revolt, reject, uproar at the feel of a collar around her throat.

But here she was, big wide glossy opium-soaked eyes staring up at her Master and his compelling lilac orbs, feeling her stomach curl at the feel of his big fist tugging her leash as he hovers above her, purring like a little kitten, like the little kitten she was, at the feel of his swollen thick cock filling her up so snuggly, breeding her good, while she drools at the collar put, not just on her throat, but on her mind, panting over the thought of having his commands lick every nerve of her body, making her twist and bend and bow all to his wishes.

Fluffy tail wrapped around his leg, holding onto him in the softest form of embrace as her hands are otherwise occupied with being tied to the bed-post.

She whimpered, aching fingers wanting to touch, to run smooth soft fingertips over his skin, his scars, tangle in his wild lavish purple locks.

She bit her lip and clenched around the member inside her, making him groan as he bottomed-out and pulled back again.

“Could- could Master… untie me?” She needed to ask, voice timid and hopeful, again feeling him slowly inch into her core, messaging her insides, her walls kissing alongside his girth, sucking on him gratefully.

He quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask why, or to tell her why he couldn’t do that.

“I want to touch you…” She pleaded, a confession so sweet and voice anything but brazen or wanton, blinking shamefully, guilty of her lust, even though in the light of what he’d done to her and made her do to him, it sounded like mere child’s play, something she shouldn’t even be allowed to be embarrassed about.

His eyes scanned her, curious, doubting her, yet having felt how her legs wrapped around his torso, and the ever-playful cuddling tail that had slithered between his thighs and latched itself around his ankle, tugging on him like such a clingy little devoted kitty.

His lips curled up into a smile, looking down at his little bashful housebroken pet, thrilled to see her look up at him too, eyes full of awe on both sides, lustful, loving.

He pushed himself fully into her, cockhead kissing her cervix, and she gave a mew, moaning while he bowed down to meet her lips with his.

His hands danced up her arms, drumming alongside her limbs before they met with the knots around her wrists, tugging them loose.

Once she was free she hesitated. Eyes still so wide, as though asking for permission, as though asking for guidance, or… as though she were waiting for him to tell her what to do, and then, as though a question was burning at her lips.

“Master… ask me a question?” She requested, slowly bringing her hands down from their position, placing them around the back of his neck, fingers playing with his soft wild hair.

He needed to take a second or two to really fathom what she’d just said, where his mind seemed to leap once he did.

“Something you don’t want the answer to.”

He swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a rush of blood pool in his cheeks. His breathe grew heavy and eyes intense.

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

He needed to be sure, he needed to hear her say it, admit to it

His doubts were answered as she blinked, biting her lips, looking away shyly, clearly knowing how wrong it was of her to request him entering and playing with her mind like that.

“Yes…”

He couldn’t help but smile at her timidity, how she blushed under his gaze. But still, he needed her to give him the entirety of her desire.

“Tell me…”

He rested his forehead on her hers, happy with butterflies in his stomach at the feel of her affectionate hands running through his locks.

“What do you want from me, Kitten?”

Her breath shuddered, legs climbing higher up his back, pulling him closer. Their eyes so adamant on looking, drowning in the other. His storm of lilac so dominant and dangerous, making her mouth water and toes curl and head flutter with knowing how she was completely trapped, completely where he wanted her, loving it all the same, finding refuge in the fact, finding safety and belonging and peace.

“I want…”

Her eyes where only wide, wide with hope and searching for if he’d catch her when she now jumped, leaped into his arms.

“I want you. I want your- your teeth in my mind, marking me, making me yours, making me… feel…”

All of her was clinging to him now, her tail so neatly and snuggly slithered around his ankle, as though chaining him to her, her hands as well entangled with the unruly hair at the nape of his neck, her legs wrapped around him so tightly and desperately, pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, and her eyes hanging off of all and everything of what was giving her.

“Making you feel what?” He pushed, giving another thrust where he barely pulled out only to rock into her again.

“Safe.”

That was such an innocent word, such a sweet wish it made his heart hurt with something he couldn’t quite place, whether it was guilt or satisfaction he couldn’t tell.

“Will you do that? For me?”

He could get lost in those eyes of hers forever, those moon-big round eyes, opium-black and blown pupils so wide he thought he was falling through space with how much they reflected the limited light inside their room.

“Do you love me?” He asked then, fearing the answer.

“Yes.”

A word can be so many things, a vow, a promise, an echo, a welcome.

Her eyes went blank then, but not before she gave the softest hum as though to say thank you as she felt his presence seep into her mind. Her limbs losing all types of stress, becoming numb and soft. All her worries blanketed, where all she dreamt of was velvet lilac-tinted oceans, getting drunk on grapes and the smell of lavender and all things purple like those great godlike eyes staring down at her, the ones keeping her spellbound and tethered in a deadlock, the ones she belonged to.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

-COMFORT

The slamming shut of the apartment door, followed by the digital clicking of the lock being closed is how she knew he was home.

He hadn’t said anything.

Where usually he would at least greet her as she quickly sprung across the marble floors to welcome him home, take his jacket, kiss his cheek, all so perfectly like he’d taught her.

He hadn’t said anything.

No ‘I missed you’ or ‘thank you, princess’.

He hadn’t said anything at all.

But most things with Kai weren’t verbal anyway.

She’d learned to pick up cues, analyze a raised brow, or a slight shift in posture, or the almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes.

He hadn’t said anything, but the scowl that accompanied his aura spoke volumes to the girl. Finding his state of mind, concerned with what she found, as it was not his usual nonchalance nor his occasional contempt, but bitter.

He groaned then, once she’d helped him out of his jacket, green and tacky, purple faux fluff, something so out-of-place on Kai, yet also serving as one of his key recognizable traits.

He kicked off his shoes, also something so very out of character it brought her concern, followed by him shuffling, feet dragging on the floors in complete opposition to how he would usually walk, with his head held high, regarding the floor as though it should be grateful to be gifted by him walking on it.

Now though, he slumped, still without a word, up the stairs, sauntering without haste, without enthusiasm, all in goal of reaching the bed, which he laid out flat on once he got to it.

“Are you okay?” She asked timidly, having followed him and standing unsurely on the threshold of the door, not knowing whether she was welcome or not.

He simply pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, giving her the answer she’d guessed already.

“Can I do anything to help?” Again, she kept her voice soft and tender, hopeful; cheerful in hopes of cheering him up.

“I doubt it.” His answer was curt and bitter as he sat up on the bed, tugging loose his tie with an exhausted growl of irritation.

She padded around the bed then, not exactly having been given an invitation to stay, but not exactly having been given any indication to leave either.

Careful as she climbed up behind him, like a cat easing in on its prey, gracious and soft and focused on not alarming or disturbing the goal.

“Surely there must be something I can do?”

His ears picked up on the play in her voice, the thin hairs at the back of his neck rising, yet his curiosity was stifled as her hands, once so small and insignificant, became the hands of God.

Fingers kneading into his back, thorough and forceful yet welcomed by him through a breathy guttural groan, closing his eyes with much needed rest as he let himself fall completely to the feeling of her messaging all his tense stress right out of his shoulders, seemingly sucking all the bad out of him.

He gave yet another throaty groan as her fingers rubbed and dug into his back, her hand stopping his head from slugging forward, cupping him tenderly and guided him to rest against the softness of her chest instead.

“Do you feel better now?”

She spoke like how a mother should, sweet like summer breeze, just above a whisper, eager to please, affectionate, without ill-will, without anything to gain, selfless and beautiful, and something he was in desperate need of.

He moaned, a long dragged out breathy moan, one filled with such potent gratitude it made her smile.

“Getting there...”

She hummed, her hands like absolution handling his back like dough, thumbs rubbing the stiffness into tender soft flesh once again, working through the knots, before climbing, mounting his shoulders and ensnaring his neck, gentle fingers running smoothly to unbutton his shirt, her face nuzzling in his neck as it was exposed to her, soft plump lips kissing the sensitive skin found there, knowing exactly where to focus, hearing him moan in relief as she zeroed in on his soft-spot.

Her hands running, dancing down his chest, unbuttoning the last of his buttons, helping him slide out of it.

Quick to take her bra off, still while kissing his neck, before pushing her warm soft mounds into his back, hugging herself against him.

“How about now?” Her voice like honey as her words tickled on his neck.

“Almost…”

She slithered around to seat herself in his lap, hands cupping his cheeks as she leaned in to kiss him, naked chest rubbing up against naked chest, warm and soft, homey and safe.

Her hand drummed playfully down his stomach, reaching his pants, moving skillfully on its own to undo the belt-buckle, then the button, then pulling down the zipper.

He shuffled them down his thighs on his own, still keeping his chin lifted to receive her kisses. His clothed erection bumping up into the thin protection of her panties.

Her hand, still so smoothly, reached under the band of his boxers to pull him out. Though his rough way of ripping her lacy underwear off managed to break through her calm demeanor as she yelped a bit and flinched.

However the surprise was quickly followed by giggles as she continued to kiss him, feeling his smirk against her lips and soon his hand cupping her ass before running hungry pressured fingertips around her thigh to play with her slit, thumb roughly pushing into her clit as other reckless digits ran though her folds to test the waters, quite parallel to how carefully she handled his cock with her own elegant hand, rubbing him up and down ever so gently, with the tenderness he carved.

He hissed once her thumb rubbed over his sensitive head, biting into her lip, and though his beastly impulses used to alarm her, now she could only think of them as an invitation.

Holding his cock up to her entrance, giving him time to remove his fingers from her now soaking folds.

She sunk down on him slowly, moaning softly against his lips as he groaned upon hers.

“Better now?” She asked, without giving way to the cockiness her question carried, but he deciphered it with ease nonetheless, giving her ass a playful squeeze before guiding her to lay down on her back, nibbling on her neck as he chuckled at how she disguised her devilish naughty humour as being innocent, wanting to make her choke on that haughtiness as he gave a quick sharp thrust up into her.

Her moan rung throughout the massive penthouse where no doors were kept closed, as he licked the sin right off her expression with one needy hungry kiss and a promise as well as a threat.

“I will be once I hear you scream my name, princess.”

TIP-JAR

5K notes · View notes

roscgcld · 3 years

Text

GOJO SATORU || pretty eyes [pt.2]

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

pronouns: she/her

notes: high-school! gojo x underclassman! reader

the part two of ‘pretty eyes’ is here! read part one here.

“You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.”

Gojo prides himself as a man who just ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Besides the fact that there is a line of women who were just waiting to get with him, he had never really seen what an actual functioning relationship looked like. His parents had an arranged marriage to ‘keep the Gojo clan’s genes powerful’ - his father was barely around, going about his duties to the clan whilst his mother was out and about having affairs left, right and center.

With that being said though, Gojo was a determined man. He may not know exactly what was it that draws him to a particular junior of his, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get to at least know her better. The problem? He has absolutely no clue on how to woe her.

“Remind me again exactly what am I doing here?”

It was a Friday afternoon - and classes are always let out earlier on Friday. Usually Geto would spend the free afternoon just relaxing in his dorm after a long week of classes and missions; but before Geto can evens step one foot out of the stuffy classroom, Gojo had grabbed his arm and teleported them both out of campus. That’s how he found himself in a random café that Gojo had graciously dragged them into, narrowing his eyes over at his best friend as he raised his mug of earl grey to his lips. “If this is about copying my essay-”

“How do you ask a girl out?”

“Hah?” Geto asks with an annoyed scowl, to which Gojo just made a noise before he awkward sets his clean cake fork down; the multi-layered cookies and cream cake sat untouched before him. That alone should be concerning, since Gojo is known to have a strong affinity for sweets. “How do you ask a girl out? Like, on a date.” Gojo repeated with the utmost serious expression on his face, and for a few moments Geto just blinks at him owlishly. “Satoru, how the hell have you been asking women out before this? It’s the same damn thing.”

“Asking a girl you actually like out and asking someone for a one night stand are two very different things.” Gojo stresses whilst Geto actually sets his mug down before him, the situation slowly dawning onto him. “You’re actually being serious right now.” He mutters whilst Gojo tossed him an annoyed look, clearly unamused by how little faith his friend has in him. “Well, first things first, you actually need to get to know them better first before you actually ask them.”

“Yeah, well - I’m trying to work on that.” Gojo grumbles out quietly as he picked his fork back up, digging into the corner of his cake with a soft frown whilst Geto leans back into his seat with a thoughtful look. “But I didn’t even notice her until recently.” He sighs softly to himself as he examined his forkful of cake, a slight pout tugging on his lips. “I am sure Ieiri might help. But knowing her, that means I’ll owe her another debt that she will use against me.”

Geto, for once, actually feels some form of sympathy for Gojo. Whilst he grew up in a functioning household with loving parents, Gojo was brought up in a lonely world, where he was treated like a prized position to be paraded about. So Geto wasn’t shocked at how unsure the usually overconfident Gojo is when it comes to something as trivial as dating. “Well...you can bring her out for coffee like you’re doing with me.” He offered, to which Gojo just made a face at his statement. “Sorry buddy, I don’t swing that way.”

“You little piece of shit.” Geto grunted with a light scowl as he kicked Gojo hard underneath the table, his annoyance growing at the familiar grin that was tugging at the corners of Gojo’s lips; and also the fact that his foot was stop by the Limitless that Gojo had activated before Geto can kick. “I mean an actual cute date dumbass - bring her café hopping about Tokyo or something. Or one of those pet cafes - people love pet cafes.” Geto said with a tired sigh, picking up his mug to take a slow sip from his warm liquid whilst Gojo actually pauses for a moment at Geto’s words. “Wait, that’s not that bad of an idea.”

Geto just rolled his eyes at that, taking soft sips from his mug whilst he watches as Gojo start googling about a few cafes that he can bring her about. “You’re welcome.” Geto said with a tired sigh as he sets his mug down, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over at Gojo. “Now figure out a way to get to know her better and see if she’s even interested in your annoying ass.” He stated simply, to which Gojo just grins as he pointed the end of his fork as Geto, having eating that bite of cake whilst he typing away on his phone. “Who wouldn’t be interested in me?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

The next time he had gotten a chance to bump into her was actually by complete accident.

Like usually, he had decided to slack off instead of doing his homework; so it was no surprise to find the young shaman cooped up in the library of the school with a variety of textbooks opened around him. To be honest, Gojo wouldn’t have done this essay if it wasn’t for the fact that it had a heavy weightage on his final grade, determining if he could graduate from high school.

Even with that threat overhead, he decided to drag it out until the very last day to start writing it. Geto was just annoyed at him, since Gojo is actually really smart - yet he enjoys slacking off. It was infuriating, and since Gojo had already annoyed him enough with his entire ‘crush’ situation, Geto had just told him to go to the library before promptly closing the door in his face.

So there Gojo was, long limbs stretched out all over the place as he twirls his pen between his fingers. He had the most bored expression on his face as he tilted his head back with a sigh, his eyes blinking up at the wooden ceiling. If he was being honest, he had actually finished half of his essay - until he grew bored and wanted a distraction. He was about to get up to go and grab a snack from the vending machines when he heard a pair of soft footsteps and a quiet voice calling out to him.

“Oh, hello there, Gojo-senpai.”

Gojo widen his eyes in shock as he suddenly sat up straight, almost dropping the pen he was twirling between his fingers as he snapped his eyes up at the girl that had plagued his thoughts day and night. The same smile gracing her lips as she curiously walked towards the messy desk, casting a glance over the many opened books and the half-written essay before him. “Am I disturbing your research?”

“N-No.” Gojo said, cringing a little at how awkward he sounded - it was so unnatural and so unlike him, and he hopes that she didn’t notice it. Fortunately she hadn’t picked up on the awkwardness that he was basically radiating as she smiles and nods, gesturing to the free seat opposite from his with her free hand. “Do you mind if I take a seat there? I don’t really like studying alone in the library, it can get really quiet and boring.”

Numbly Gojo nodded, feeling a light blush coating his cheeks when he saw the grateful smile she tossed over at him casually as she made her way to the seat. He snapped out of it when he saw her pulling her own textbook from her bag, quickly shifting his mess into a neat pile so she has more space to work. She thanked him quietly with a smile, settling down in the free seat opposite from his as she started to flip through her book. He pretended to return to his work as well, but in reality he was watching her through his lashes, admiring how she can make something as simple as reading look graceful.

There was no way he was going to be able to do work now.

Closing his eyes a little, he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose, this action causing his signature rounded sunglasses to fall down the bridge a little more. He was about to push them back when he felt a pair of eyes on him, causing him to look over the rim of his glasses over at the girl before him. When she was caught staring she just smiles at him, causing Gojo’s now calmed cheeks to flare up once more. “You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.” The girl stated simply, tilting her head a little as she casted him another smile.

And once more, the simple act of a smile caused Gojo’s breath to hitch, his eyes widening even more as he watches how she just casually looked down at her textbook once more. If only she knew just how that one sentence had basically shot-circuited his brain - rendering him useless for a few seconds. Somehow though, he managed to slowly return to his senses and start on his essay, the sound of having someone else studying with him getting him into the groove of things. Without even knowing it, he wrote the last sentence of his essay; smiling victoriously as he picked the essay up and flipped through the sheets of writing. He gave them a quick scan, reading it briefly to make sure everything looks alright before he slipped his essay back into his folder.

He had started to pack his books up when he spotted the clear look of confusion that was splashed across the face of the girl opposite from him. For some reason she reminded him of a kitten, and for a brief moment he just wanted to reach over to gently squish her cheeks in his hands. Instead he gave into his smaller temptation; gently kicking her slipper clad foot with one of his own to grab her attention. “Need some help with that?”

The younger girl gave him an embarrassed smile as she nods, rubbing the back of her head softly as she glances back at her textbook. “I wouldn’t mind...it’s just - I’ve been reading over the same chapter for a few days now, but I just don’t understand anything.” She admitted with a tired sigh as she hangs her head a little, sporting what looks to be a soft pout of frustration that caused Gojo’s heart to skip a beat at how adorable she looked. Wordlessly Gojo got up, grabbing his seat from his end of the table as he made his way towards her.

Settling down beside her, he leaned closer to scan over the page of the textbook, a memory jostling in the back of his mind at the same lesson he took back in his first year. “Oh, I remember this. I can help you if you want.”

“Really?” The younger girl said with an curious look as she glanced back at the man seated beside her, Gojo widening his eyes when he realised just how close their faces were. He can feel her soft breath against his cheek, and what smelt like mint coming from parted lips. This caused him to blush as he hid his widened eyes behind his sunglasses, wondering how the hell was she not outwardly reacting at how close their faces were. “Y-Yeah. I mean, I’ve already finished my work...I don’t mind killing some free time helping you.”

The girl gave him a grateful smile before she rubs the back of her neck gently, feeling a soft flush appearing on her cheeks that caused Gojo to stare shamelessly. “Thank you, senpai. If you need anything from me after this, don’t hesitate to ask.” She offered shyly as she glances over at Gojo, who blinked before he decided to take his opportunity. “A-Actually, there is something you can help me with.” Gojo admitted after he took a deep breath to steel his resolve, but the tone of his voice was still far too shy for how the third year.

His words caused the girl beside him to cast him a curious glance

“Would you maybe...be interested on going on a date with me?” He asks her, biting his lip a little as he stared at her from behind his sunglasses. For a brief moment the girl just blinked at him before her face suddenly blossomed in a deep shade of red, her hands coming up to slap over her warm cheeks as she stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Me?”

A shy nod was given before Gojo awkwardly glances down at his lap as well, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hand whilst the other rested on the desk before them; anxiously tapping against the wood. “Y-Yeah.” He mumbles in a soft voice, and for a few moments there was silence that caused Gojo’s heart to beat painfully against his chest.

Screw whoever says that facing a Special Grade Curse would be terrifying - Gojo feels like he might just die from the anxiety of asking someone out for something as simple as a date.

He was about to start babbling about some random reason as to why when he heard her shy answer. “I-I mean...I wouldn’t mind going out on a date with you...”

Cue short-circuited Gojo once more.

“O-Oh.” Gojo spluttered out with wide eyes, having not expected for her to agree so readily as she gave him a shy smile, her face still dusted in a light shade of red as she nodded her. Her answer caused him to smile, biting his lip a little to stop his face from splitting open in a huge grin as he tilts his head a little. “Does 5pm tomorrow sound alright for you?” He asks her quietly, to which she grins softly and nods her head, her action causing her hair to fall over her face in perfect waves; the action causing Gojo’s already poor heart to do another flip in his chest. “We can meet up at the front of the school.”

With a final nod and another shy smile shared between the two, both of them returned to the work that hand. However there was a certain atmosphere between the two; the slightly excitement that was clearly on their faces at the idea of their date tomorrow, the light bumping of shoulders as Gojo reaches over to point at something as he explained it to the girl quietly, soft comments that leads to soft giggles and the shy glances they both share. The soft smiles on their faces sealing the scene for anyone to walk past to know that there was definitely something brewing between the two

Who knew all it took was a simple complement to land them where they are today.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x you #satory gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk satoru #satoru #satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

---------------

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

#disaster lineage #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #jango fett #jaster mereel #time travel #mandalore #tatooine #de aging #babies #phoenix files #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

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thestarrynightslover · 3 years

Text

It’s Hard Sometimes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,975

Warnings: Yelling, arguing (gets a little physical, really just a little bit!), high risk-pregnancy, slight mentions of fertility issues, mentions of anxiety and overthinking, and a lot of angst.

Summary: Jay and the reader are married, but start having a hard time after they found out that (y/n) is pregnant.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: I made this piece of almost pure angst mostly because I feel like Jay is such a well-built character, who gives us a lot of space to talk about mental health and anxiety (even though I don’t think I developed it very well, lol), so I wanted to use this space to try and add to the conversation with him. Anyways, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and, please, feel free to give me feedback, cause I’m also here to learn!!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

Your Saturday morning just couldn’t get any worse.

Or, at least, that’s what you thought after having been mugged at the subway and then asked to go pick up your stuff at the 21st District, where your husband works. You had to go in because they had apprehended your bag as stolen property. But you were hoping that, maybe, you’d be able to sort it all out without Jay seeing you.

“(y/n), hi! Here to see Chuckles? Cause they’re all out working on a case now.” Trudy said with a small smile on her lips, while you just prayed she wouldn’t notice how relieved you were to hear that.

“No, uh, I’m actually here because there was an incident at the subway and the responding officers told me I had to come in to get my bag back. Also, sign something, I think…” You answered shrugging your shoulders to make it seem like nothing. But, of course, Trudy knew better, she always does.

“Oh my God! I heard about that, just didn’t know you were one of the victims! Are you okay? García, go get (y/n) a glass of water!!!” She quickly shouted at the young officer, not waiting long to turn back to face you with a concerned glare: “Can I get you anything else?”

“Oh, no, Trudy! You don’t need to worry about me! It wasn’t a big deal!” You said, also noticing that she was already going through some evidence bags, looking for the one that contained your things. “But there is one thing that I’d appreciate from you…” Hearing that, she didn’t even let you finish:

“Yes, of course! Anything, just name it!” At that, you shot her your brightest smile. Maybe Jay was right and the tough Sergeant Trudy Platt did have a soft spot for you.

“Well, it’s just that… You know how Jay can get, so maybe you could not mention any of this to him? I just don’t want him worrying, the way I know he will, over something like this…” You would’ve continued but Trudy had the weirdest look on her face and, then, you got it. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” She didn’t bother to answer as your husband turned you to face him and the other members of the Intelligence Unit.

“So, what is it you don’t want me to worry about, huh?” He had a playful smirk on his lips, but his eyes showed you he was already worried. And now you had no other option but to tell him what happened.

“Well, um, there was a little confusion at the subway today and the officers said I had to come in…” You would gladly stop at that, but you knew that Jay wasn’t gonna let it go until you told him everything, so you just went on: “To retrieve what I, um, lost.” God, you couldn’t even look in his eyes right now.

“What you lost? What kind of confusion are you talking about exactly, babe?” In spite of the pet name, his voice was already showing off a bit of irritation.

“It was a, um, robbery,” at that his eyes almost jumped out of their orbits, so you quickly added, “but it wasn’t a big deal! Nobody got hurt! The officers tackled the guy pretty fast, as soon as he stepped out on the station! And everything is here,” you said raising the bag Trudy handed you a few minutes earlier, “so, really, there’s nothing to worry about!” You told him, not being able to conceal the exasperation in your voice.

“Nothing to worry about? You just got mugged, (y/n)! We heard a call about that over the radio, it was an armed robbery! Or did you happen to miss the gun on your face when he was getting your bag, huh?” He asked and, even though you knew that the only reason why he was lashing out like that was the concern, the way he said what he said made you feel really small and brought tears to your eyes. “Actually, what I’d like to know, to begin with, is why were you even riding the subway alone, after our talk from the other day, huh?” You could feel the eyes from every person in that District on you and, as much as you knew where Jay was coming from, it was starting to really bother you.

“I was just going to the library. Sorry I didn’t think I needed an escort to do that!” You wish you wouldn’t have said it with those exact words, but you were reaching your limit.

“But we talked about it!” He snapped and you jumped back a little. Then he added, more calmly: “You should have called me.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he always did when he was disappointed and upset about something, and you just felt yourself getting smaller and smaller, as the tears started falling. As if all of it hadn’t been enough, he asked: “Are you okay, though? Because, you know, given our circumstances, you’re to avoid going out on your own to prevent this kinda stress from hitting you, babe.” He explained that to you like he was talking to a child. Like he was the only one who heard what the doctor said. And that was it for you. As much as you loved the man, you just didn't have infinite patience towards his overprotective dad-to-be mode.

“Oh, really? Why don’t you just go ahead and say ‘I told you so’, huh? Because I can tell you’re dying to do it!” God damn those pregnancy hormones because you were fuming with anger and the tears just kept going down at full force.

“Babe, that’s not what I-”

“The hell it isn’t!” Part of you really wanted to let it all out. All the hurtful words that were just waiting for a go-ahead at the tip of your tongue. But the other part of you, the rational one, knew that wasn’t gonna do any good for you or Jay. Or your baby. So you decided you’d leave instead. “You know what? It’s probably best if I go home now!”

“Okay, then, I’ll drive you.” You heard Jay saying, with a deep sigh, but you couldn’t even begin to think about an entire drive home with him at that moment.

“No way! I can do that by myself! And don’t worry I’ll get a cab this time!” As you headed towards the exit, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. You turned around and it was Jay. He’d never done that before. “Jay, you’re hurting me!” You breathed out, trying not to be too nervous. When your eyes met his, he let your arm go quickly, looking absolutely stunned by his own behavior.

You knew that the healthiest thing to do right then would be to try and talk to him about it, but you couldn’t. At that point you needed the space more than ever, so you took the opportunity to just leave the District and go home.

After you stormed out crying, every cop in that building laid their eyes on Jay. To say they were completely shocked by the previous scene was an understatement. Almost everyone there knew you and Jay and how you two were great together. But, more importantly, they knew Jay Halstead wasn’t that kinda guy ⎯ or at least they thought so ⎯ and now they were all wondering.

Still, Trudy Platt, who wasn’t about to have any more of that drama at her District, ordered loudly for everyone to get back to their tasks, while shooting Jay a worried look, because, as much as she knew for a fact that he wasn’t that kinda guy, she cared a lot about you and had, obviously, witnessed the whole thing.

After the little gathering of cops had been dissolved, it was Voight’s turn to speak up: “Alright, Intelligence, let’s get back upstairs, we still have a lot of work to do on this case. And, Jay, you should go home now.” He said with a stern look, despite his concern for the detective.

“But, sarge, I-” Jay started to protest, like Hank knew he would.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Halstead. I know your head is not gonna be on the case until you fix whatever that was, so, now, the best thing you can do is just calm down and go home.” This time Jay knew there was no point in arguing, so he accepted the defeat and went upstairs to get changed in the locker room before leaving.

As he got there, he saw his reflection in the mirror and that was when it hit him. All of it. From your incident to your tears, to his aggressiveness. He really messed up. He let his fears get the best of him and he hurt you, he made you cry, fear him, even. So he started crying himself, like a little child whose favorite toy had just broken, like there was no tomorrow. By the time Voight went there to check up on Jay, maybe give him some advice, that’s what he saw: a grown man sitting on the floor crying his eyes out. So he did the one thing he could think about doing, to try and make that man he considered like a son feel better: he sat there by Jay’s side and put a hand over the detective’s shoulder until the crying sufficed.

“So, you and (y/n) been on the odds lately?” Hank asked after a while.

“No, uh, not really.” Jay started whilst sniffling. “It’s just that this week we got some news that messed with our emotions a little, but, Hank, I swear I have no idea why I did that! I would never do anything to hurt her, you gotta believe me! Please?” He pleaded, in desperation, for someone who knew it, who knew him.

“Jay, Jay!” By then the sergeant had to shout to get the frantic young man’s attention back. “Jay, I know you wouldn’t hurt her, you hear me? I know. I know you love her more than you love yourself, hell, everyone here knows it! They were just… A little surprised to see you two arguing, that’s all.” Hank tried to make it sound a lot less bad than it actually was, and Jay appreciated that. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s really going on between you and (y/n), huh? Maybe I can help you somehow… Or maybe you just need to vent.” Hearing that, Jay decided that he should take Voight’s suggestion and just talk about it already.

“Well, here’s the thing, sarge, (y/n/n) and I, we’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. And, um, we were having a bit of a hard time with it. But then last weekend we found out that it worked, she got pregnant, and we were so happy about it!” He almost smiled at the memory. “But then we went to the doctor to check it and all that, and found out that it’s a high-risk pregnancy, meaning she’s gotta take it real easy from now on, otherwise the baby’s life and her own would be in danger! And I’m terrified ever since we left that hospital! Because the simplest thing could take her away from me! My everything, sarge, she is my entire world and I can’t live without her.” He said shaking his head in a way that made even Hank Voight feel a bit of sadness. “So when she said she’d been robbed at gunpoint… I just lost it, you know? What if I’d lost them?”

“Ah, Jay…” Hank knew exactly what the detective was scared of, after all, he had already lost a wife and a son. “Look, I know this can be hard, trust me. Camille and I had our issues before Justin came, as well… But you said it yourself, you’re both happy, aren’t you?” Jay didn’t even need to think before answering that question.

“Yes, of course, sarge! But-”

“No buts! Look, Jay, I know what a big heart you have and I know how much you care, how- how intensely you care, I know, okay? But sometimes, with things like this, you just gotta keep going and hope- just hope that everything is gonna work out. So here’s what you’re gonna do: go home, make up with your wife and start planning a nursery, or whatever else you, parents-to-be, have on your to-do lists these days.” At that, Jay chuckled a little, feeling grateful to have this second father to set him on straight.

“I know you’re right, and I really appreciate you saying this to me… I’m pretty sure that (y/n/n) said something among those lines after we got back from the doctor’s appointment too. The problem is that sometimes it seems like I can’t control my own thoughts. Then, next thing I know, I’m freaking out…” Hank thought that he sounded so frustrated saying that… He really felt for the kid.

“Listen, Jay, you- you just try, okay? You just try your best. And talk to (y/n/n) about it, just let her know what’s going on in there.” He pointed to Jay’s head, as they had already stood up.

“Alright, I will try. Thank you, sarge. Thank you so much, I really needed this.” They half-hugged and the detective went home to you.

The thing he wasn’t prepared for, at all, was finding you: the woman he loved more than anything and anyone in the entire world, sitting on the floor, leaning your back against the bed in the bedroom you two shared, crying and shaking. You were scared of him. That broke him in a way he never thought possible. He wanted to hurt himself, as punishment for hurting you, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to you. So he gathered some courage to speak through his shame instead. “B- babe?”

You shivered, but you didn’t wanna be afraid of him. That was Jay. Your Jay. The man you loved. The man who loved you. You knew he would never hurt you or your baby. But your body didn’t seem to be listening to your brain. Still, you wanted to say something. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t know what to say, so you just stayed silent, trying to stop the sobs. He decided to make a move: He sat down on the floor like you, but still giving you some space. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost whispering, “I’m so, so, so sorry. You don’t need to say anything, or to forgive me, or do anything, really. I came here willing to talk to you. To do anything to get you back. But now I see just how much I hurt you, so I’ll give you all the space and time you want.” You still couldn’t seem to find your words. It was that same man, you knew it. Why couldn’t you just tell him that? “I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom, or even go to Will’s if it makes you more comfortable?” Just by the sound of his voice, you could tell he meant it. And that was your Jay.

“No,” you spoke so lowly, that you weren’t even sure he’d heard it, “I want you to stay.” And you really did. But you needed to understand, in order to be able to forgive him. “Just- just tell me what happened there? Why?” You tried, a little louder this time.

“Long story short? I was scared to death.” He said with a long and heavy sigh, looking so much older than he’d ever done before; at the same time, you could see the bags under his eyes, from all those sleepless nights he’d been having lately.

“Scared? Because of the robbery? Baby, you’re a cop! You’ve heard of that kind of thing a million times before, and you know it’s not that big of a deal!" You tried to reason with him, even though you were afraid too, at the time.

“I know!” He said, in a tone that made you flinch a little and, then, more calmly: “Look, I know. And I know that you’ve been through tougher stuff. And that you can handle yourself. But that whole thing could’ve gone badly for you, for the baby, for us, in a thousand different ways. Besides, it’s not just that. Ever since we left that exam room, on Monday, I’ve been scared, worried. Because, according to the doctor, the tiniest problem could get you on edge. Because of the tiniest problem, I could lose you. I could lose everything, babe!” You could only stare at him in shock, after hearing that. Of course, you understood his concerns, but you had been so absorbed in your own fears, that you never thought about how much the whole situation was affecting him. Your formerly brave soldier, now tough detective, was also a very anxious man ⎯ who always overthought every single detail of everything when it came to you ⎯ and was, now, crying his eyes out, sobbing like a little kid by your side. So you did the one thing you thought could make him feel better: you pulled him closer to you, letting him break, into your chest, as he listened to your soothing heartbeat.

“It’s alright, my love, it’s alright. Shhh, I’m right here and I’m safe. We both are. You don’t need to be afraid, because we’re not going anywhere, baby.” You promised him with tears already pricking through your eyes, as well.

And, like that, you two stayed, crying in each other’s arms, just holding each other. With a renewed hope that everything was gonna be okay.

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theramseyloft · 3 years

Note

I revere pigeons. Their care and history is my special interest and they occupy my mind almost all the time. The knowledge that someone is deliberately hurting and neglecting ones they've stolen from caring, safer environments and people that were concerned for their wellbeing has me crying. Imagine being so empty as a person, to go so far as to injure a pigeon for imaginary internet points and attention.

I have been trying to work up the energy to write a post about this for weeks.

Christmas eve of 2018, my business page was contacted by some one looking for birds.

In January 2019, he let slip that he was a minor, and that his parents were adamantly opposed to him having birds.

Minors whose parents are not fully supportive of their choice of pet are a hard no in my screening process. He kept asking questions as if preparing to care for birds he expected me to sell or adopt to him, and every time, I would ask to speak to his legal guardian. He did everything he could, from telling me his mom would call me later, to eventually calling my personal phone in the middle of the night to try and coerce me into sneaking him birds under the cover of darkness. I got to the point where I would only answer his questions about available birds with "Have your legal guardian ask me." About this time, Palomacy's head, Elizabeth, came to me privately to warn me not to adopt to him. I know she thinks breeders will do anything for a sale, but my screening process for babies I have hatched is every bit as strict as my screening process for rescues. I told her I had no plans to. But confessed that I’d had a troubled history of using rescue as a coping mechanism for an abusive home situation when I was in college, and felt obligated to mentor him. I was also taken in by the charming 'enthusiastic teen who really wants to learn' facade that he's so artfully developed. So, when he used a different name to get into the Small Scale Rescue and House Pet/Therapy pigeon discord servers, and let slip who he was by accident, I was content to let him stay, hoping that the information we share would help him develop into a better care taker. But more and more red flags started popping up.

One pigeon’s bare neck, claimed to have been a wonky molt, but inflamed and bristling with filoplumes (The avian equivalent of whiskers;thin hair like feathers that also fall out during that heavy a molt)

The same bird claimed to have eaten playdough and thrown it up, in a photo with a cage full of green, moldy poop. (Where did the bird get playdough? Why was it allowed to get far enough to swallow it?)

The same bird claimed to have coins and chunks of carrot pulled out of his crop (things a pigeon can’t physically swallow unaided)

In every progressive photo, the feathers are thinner and more bedraggled and the bird himself was losing weight.

That pigeon mysteriously vanished, only got him to get two more, and mention nonchallantly after the fact that “Oh, puff died last week.”

His new pet pigeons, who supposedly lived in their own room in his house, got out while he was moving a couch.

He got, and promptly lost two other rescue birds from the rescue I posted about late in the summer that was shut down by her city and urgently needed homes for their birds.

When told Great Lakes Pigeon Rescue was going to be warned about adopting to him, this is what he posted on my education server:

He had his eye on a bird of mine (Frito), talking him down like he was undesirable or unadoptable, and reasoning that I’d have a hard time finding a home for him because of his bad personality.

Frito washed from therapy training due to INTENSE dislike of his harness.

That, and that he had developed a strong independent streak and prefered the company of other birds to people were the first things I told Brysen when he asked after that specific bird.

In one channel of the server, he would be talking to me about how he didn’t mind Frito just being a pretty house bird and would be ok if he never warmed up to being handled...

While, in another, he would be posting harnesses, asking if they would work for Frito, and asking other residents how to make an independent bird get used to being handled.

When I called him on it, he came into my DMs with this mess:

(The turn around in tone in the 12 hours I was too angry to respond is almost funny..)

Remember that rescue from earlier?

These are screenshots of her conversation with him (used with permission) about the birds that were lost, sent to the person in charge of Palomacy, where he was an active member on their platform at the time, to warn that he was preying on rescues to get more birds:

This conversation clearly illustrates that he was using us and Palomacy only to adapt the way he preys on rescues.

There is a reason he preys on rescues. We are hopeful for people to improve. So he expects infinite chances from us. And he expects that a correctly worded apology will erase any consequences. He preys on pigeons because there are no laws in the US concerning their welfare. Despite being domestic animals (the pigeons brought by Europeans to North America had been domesticated for thousands of years, and there were no natives of the same species or even in the Columba genus to mix back with); Pigeons are under the jurisdiction of the Department of Natural Resources, which governs wildlife, and legally classifies them as an invasive pest. The Department of Agriculture is the one that presides over domestic animals and investigates animal cruelty. They may only act for the welfare of pigeons under the specific circumstance of the pigeons in question being meat breeds bred for squab intended for human consumption via restaurants. In any other instance, killing a pigeon by any means, including torture, is legally equivalent to pest control. There are no legal consequences for it.

After I blocked and banned him, it came to light through several sources in personal contact with him that he maimed, killed, and discarded 25 birds that we know of, and he is still trying to get more.

Several people who denied him birds shared screen shots with us proving that they were also sexually harassed and threatened with sexual violence by him.

Several of the people who came to us told us that they had also tried to warn Palomacy, but their comments were immediately erased.

Brysen was allowed to continue to speak openly on their platform with no consequences, allowing him to truthfully say that he was being mentored by Palomacy to lull smaller rescues into a false sense of security and convince them to give him birds.

They had two articles on their website about what a wonderful young rescuer he was, only taken down after they tried to claim I had doxxed an innocent child, and it was pointed out to them that their public articles had his full current address, date and place of birth, and a photo of him in front of his house. I had beef enough with the organization before this that I will not go into on this post, but I am disgusted by the way Elizabeth silenced her own admins and community members from warning other rescues and individuals and tried to shut the rescue up who sent the above screen shots when she came forward about the birds he tricked her into bringing to Ga who were immediately killed. And then blamed her for their deaths. @tutu.pigeon brought me those screen shots the day after I banned him and one of my server mods took it upon themself to be a voice for his other victims by creating the Instagram @exposing_helluva_duv What ever respect I might have had for Palomacy is permanently destroyed.

You cannot call yourself a rescue if you cover for a serial abuser, actively prevent his victims from warning the rest of their community, and then blame those victims for having been taken advantage of.

The harm that that, combined with everything else I have beef with, has done so out weighs any good that I can no longer, in good conscience, attempt to put aside our differences and meet in the middle.

I’m not gonna waste the energy to start any shit, and I don’t think any one else should either.

But I’m done trying to be any degree of supportive to them.

Gonna put my energy into encouraging more small shelters so there are better options.

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-16: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation

“Destiny is like a gust of wind… Red leaves flutter, flying away in the face of it. And it is when the winds pick up ― That you meet once more…”

“Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

I failed. And right when I was just a step away from becoming the champion too.

I felt an odd sense of heaviness overwhelm me during the long time it took for the curtain call to end, something that I’d never felt before. It was sort of a mixture of both an inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

I don’t know how or when I got myself off the stage.

Sariel’s words echoed in my mind. He said that I’d completely disregarded the essence of what it means to be a Fashion Designer… But what exactly does he mean by that?

All the contestants walking in front of me were relieved beyond measure that it was all over now, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. I walked towards a quieter place alone.

The courtyard garden at the foot of the corridor appeared serene and mysterious at night. The bright moonlight filtered down, shining upon the flowers and leaves alike. The night breeze carried along with it the faint fragrance of flowers.

❖☆———————————★❖

I lowered my head and glanced at the potted plant by my feet. It was a flower yet to fully bloom, with many smaller flower buds hidden beneath its wide leaves, which were gently rubbing against my ankle.

It was akin to a small pet that was showing affection to its owner in a bid to comfort them.

Despite knowing that the notion of comfort was merely an illusion caused by the night breeze, I still couldn’t help but feel my heart warm.

MC: Thanks…

It was then that I heard the squeak of the glass doors opening to admit another.

Illuminated under the moonlight, the lanky figure gradually walked closer

❖☆———————————★❖

A crisp white suit and a pair of icy eyes.

MC: Sariel…

He looked a little appalled to see me here, but that flicker of emotion was soon concealed.

Sariel didn’t speak. He directed his gaze past me, staring at the plants within the garden. His eyes reflected the faint moonlight, appearing as beautiful as coloured glass.

He looked surprisingly serene here, compared to the frostiness he’d displayed back up on stage earlier.

However, the cold comment he’d given me immediately flashed back in my mind just as I was musing about this.

❖☆———————————★❖

Sariel: You absolutely do not understand the meaning of your given theme at all.

❖☆———————————★❖

My head had been in a mess back then, so I totally missed the chance to enquire further about it.

Perhaps his being here right now was fate’s way of giving me another chance to do so.

MC: M-Mr. Sariel…!

Sariel silently turned his gaze over. His eyes were as calm as ever, the only difference was his slightly furrowed eyebrows.

MC: I’m (Y/n), one of the participating Fashion Designers of the contest today.

Sariel: I know.

MC: I really like your works, and I’ve always seen you as my role model.

Sariel: So?

MC: So…

★Night Choice: Read his body language and remain silent.

I lapsed into silence the moment I met his gaze.

That look on his face spoke volumes. He didn't even bother hiding the fact that anything I said would fall upon deaf ears.

Sariel: Are you presuming that I'll understand just what it is you're trying to express in your work if I give you a chance to explain yourself?

I looked at him in surprise, nodding.

The sides of his lips immediately curled up into a sneer.

Sariel: The organizer prepared hundreds upon hundreds of material choices. You clearly had the choice of choosing a more suitable material, yet you still used the most unfitting material: 80 twist Black Chiffon.

MC: That's because I wanted to express the tenacity of "Fashion Designers".

Sariel: You're only creating this to realize your idea.

Sariel: Be it high twist Black Chiffon, or those blasphemous roses that clash so terribly bad that it leaves people speechless...

Sariel: Everything merely falls under your own "Design Ideas", with no consideration whatsoever about whether this is the right way to go about making it into an actual product.

☆Light Choice: Explain your design choice

MC: So, I want to know why you think I don’t understand the theme. I hope I can explain just what the ideas that went into my design are.

I originally thought that he��d outright refuse me, but he never interrupted me, and neither did he leave. He’d only watched me calmly as I rattled off. Does this mean that he acquiescences with me?

I mustered up my courage and started rattling off my explanation.

MC: I chose to use Black Chiffon with the highest twist available, 80 twists high, not just because it can attain and support the design I wanted to go for.

MC: It was also because I felt that it was a good representation of the tenacity of Fashion Designers.

MC: And as for the rose ornaments… I chose it because it represents why I initially wanted to become a Fashion Designer.

MC: I don’t know others will go about interpreting what the term “Fashion Designer” means, but to me, I feel that…

MC: There is no one answer to this, and there’s also no way one can take it too far in any whichever direction.

After hearing me out, the sides of Sariel’s lips curled into a blatant sneer.

Sariel: So, you think that the problem here lies with the way you think, and hence, your idea. That’s why you’re trying so hard to explain and make it clear to me, am I right?

MC: …Is it not?

Sariel: Your sheer lack of understanding is astounding.

Sariel: 80 twist Black Chiffon might be able to support and display the design you wish for it to. But for something that’s being made into a top hat, this high twist amount is the most unsuitable for the task.

Sariel: You’ve chucked the elegance aside, completely disregarded the volume it is supposed to have, and most importantly, it is utterly uncomfortable to wear.

Sariel: There are better ways you could represent “Roses” if you so wished. You shouldn’t have forcibly added this artefact that clashes with the whole outlook of the piece to your work.

Sariel: Only mediocre people will wish to attain recognition through their explanations.

Sariel: Everyone out there will only be able to grasp what it is you’re trying to convey through your work.

Sariel: In your work… That’s if we can even call that a piece of work…

Sariel: I don’t know why you have placed so much sentiment into it. So much, that it has totally lost its purpose as a hat.

He was surprisingly serious when it came to talking about design itself, much unlike the arrogance and iciness he’d displayed back on stage.

Sariel: Designers ought to know just what the product is being created for.

Sariel: You do not yet hold the qualities of what it takes to be a good Designer.

Sariel: Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.

His words were like a bullet, piercing me right through the heart. I stared at him, stunned and unable to form a single word.

He was absolutely right. I’d always gone straight for the concept. Whilst my heart wanted to explore new concepts within the given theme, it’d also ignored the most important thing.

I bowed to him in utter seriousness.

MC: I understand. I will do my best to correct that. Thank you.

Sariel: … What you intend to do from now on is none of my concern.

It was as if he’d reverted back into the judge, atop a pedestal and far out of reach. A completely different person from the one who’d been seriously discussing my design with me just moments earlier.

Watching his retreating figure, I felt nothing short of conflicted.

It was almost as if I’d gotten the answer to the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now in this unpleasant exchange of ours.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-19 Light) / (Chapter 1-19 Night)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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thewitchofbooks · 4 years

Note

Konnichiwa~ How about...family headcanons for ikepri suitors???? You can chose whoever you want~ thank you! 🤝🤝

Hello there~You didn't ask for someone specific, but I didn't want to come to conclusions, so I wrote for everyone, haha. I hope you like it! Also, thank you for the request!

Game: Ikemen Prince

Type: Headcanons

Characters : All the characters

Warnings : Kind of spoilery, I hope it is okay, lol,my English,the characters might be ooc.

~Chevalier Michel

🔹Chevalier becomes a bit more gentle when you two start your own family.

🔹Sometimes, you catch him smiling at your children and playing with their chubby cheeks. They always giggle and hug him.

🔹He tries to tell them how much he loves them, more with his actions and not so much with words. But they know he absolutely loves them.

🔹"I love you too." You heard him once say. You peeked inside the library and saw your handsome husband kneeling in front of the youngest, who was crying. The moment your kid heard that, he/she was grinning as he/she threw himself/herself at Chevalier.

🔹Then Cheva walked out (after a lot of awkward but comfortable cuddles on a small chair.

"Chevalier?" You said his name.

"What?" You smiled and asked.

"What did you say before?" Chevalier frowned.

"Nothing that concerns you, dummy." You laughed as he walked away.

🔹Once, you went to wake Chevalier in your shared bedroom, only to see a large lump and a lot of smaller ones, covered with the fluffy blankets.

🔹Now you have to wake them all up, but you gave up a few hours later and slept with them.

🔹Chevalier is very clever and very strong so, sometimes, he teaches his children.

🔹Every night, he reads them to sleep.

~Clavis Lelouch

🔹You were in for it when you agreed to start a family with Clavis.

🔹If your children didn't look like him, they surely took his character.

🔹Clavis will be coming back after work and instead of being greeted with deep bows from the maids, he gets greeted with buckets full of sparkly confetti and glitter.

🔹He is very proud of them but he doesn't want you to have a lot of headaches.

🔹Clavis always makes time to play with his children. He is being sweet and he helps them however he can.

🔹He teaches them to not be too open with suspicious people and if they get in trouble, he shows them how to get out of it.

🔹He let's them keep pets. And if you're allergic to furr, it's okay! None of these pets have furr at all! They can be from small, little snakes to big birds and fishes.

🔹He is trying his best.

🔹Your children love him and they show it all the time.

🔹Clavis is getting attacked with love, which he wasn't used to. He was completely shocked. In the end, he got used to it and he adores it.

🔹There will be days where you'll wake up with sketches on your face and your husband laughing with your children.

🔹They are very adorable when they're sleeping together, Clavis arm wrapped protectively around them (and you, of course).

~Leon Dompteur

🔹Leon is a very loving man. You and the family you both made are his oxygen. You're the most important reason to keep loving and enjoying life at the fullest.

🔹There are days where Leon has finished with training his army, so he takes you and your children for rides with his horse.

🔹You ride in the city and go straight to the food section.

🔹He spoils his children very much, you have to stop him. Do they like sweets? He'll walk through hell to buy cakes, chocolates and everything else. (or ask Yves to bake fresh cakes, lolol). Do they not like sweets? What are those? He never heard of them. (He still eats them.)

🔹Leon always tries to find new activities, just to make sure his children are having fun in the palace, or outside.

🔹Everytime they do something troublesome, like breaking glasses and plates with their father, they try to play innocent.

🔹If they have nightmares, Leon will help them through them.

🔹He always tells them that they don't have to 'stop seeing nightmares' to be brave. Braveness is when they search for someone they trust, because opening up is harder than keeping it inside.

"But dad, when I'm sad and I don't tell anyone... am I weak?" Leon wiped his kid's tears away.

"No. You are strong. But if it is something too hard to keep to yourself, you can share it with anyone you trust."

~Yves Kloss

🔹Yves is a big tsundere and he is shy. So, when you asked for a family, he blushed and tried to deny it. It wasn't working.

🔹His eyes light up everytime he looks at his children. They're the most adorable children in the world. And his world is made with you and them. You are all the matters.

🔹After his royal duties, he bakes cakes, the children are decorating and you have to watch the chaos.

🔹Before having a family of his own, he found it bothersome and annoying to have things all over the place, but he got used to it.

🔹He is sneaking kittens in the palace for them to feed and pet. Where did those stray kittens you show on the street when you were shopping? Yves doesn't have any idea what are you talking about, but you now have to sleep in your shared bed with foolur freshly bathed kittens.

"Are you sure you don't know them? They look comfortable around you." You said, your brow raised. The kittens were sleeping on him. He blushed and glared at you.

"Hmph, I don't know them! No, lay down Snowflake, we aren't fighting with your mom." He stroked the white furr and the small animal fell asleep again.

🔹He gives to the children gorgeous clothes and he brushed their hair, putting it in the best hairstyles.

🔹At night, he praises them for being kind.

~Luke Randolph

🔹Luke grew up in a bad environment, so he makes sure that his children won't ever have to grow up like that. He could give his life in a blink of the eye to do that.

🔹He doesn't spoil his children too much, because he wants them to be down to earth. For him, his role as a prince is not important, but his family is.

🔹The children are tripping on his long legs while they're playing outside and he sleeps.

🔹Luke is a Disney Prince. That means all the animals love him. He gently cradles small fragile butterflies, or cute little birds to show them.

🔹Luke is taking them for walks in the forest. As the time goes on, more and more animals are attached to their gentleness.

🔹If anyone dares mess with his children, they are in for a big surprise. Luke will take them down and fight them until he is sure that they won't bother them again. He won't kill someone though, only hurt them enough for his family's safety.

~Sariel Noir

🔹Sariel is a very busy man and you know that. So when he asked you if you wanted a family, you were super exited.

🔹By the time your children are born, their bedrooms and everything inside is already ready to use.

🔹Sariel seems pretty strict, but he has a soft spot for your family.

🔹He helps them study all their lessons. If they don't understand something, he'll go out of his way to search it up and give them all the information he gathered.

🔹After babysitting the Princes, he takes a few books filled with fairytales and reads to them in his soothing voice.

🔹Sariel loves his kids dearly and he protects them from harm, even if it means being in the shadows.

🔹The children love to hug him and cling on him, while he is giving lectures to the Princes. (translation = scolding Clavis.)

🔹Sariel was lonely before, so he won't let anyone hurt his family. He'll let his people "clean up the dirt".

🔹Sariel kind of spoils his children, and you, because he is weak for your eyes and pouts.

~Licht Klein

🔹Licht seems distant from afar, but his family gets to see his true colours.

🔹Whenever his children are playing or doing something else (that isn't harmful), he smiles softly, his red eyes fill with love and adoration.

🔹He is scared that someday, they'll have the same bad luck his brother and he had.

🔹That's why he always keeps an eye on them.

🔹Licht was never troubled if he died, until one of his children told him he/she loved him so much, that he/she will make him the proudest dad in the world.

🔹Licht's eyes are wide open and he thinks about his choices again. He'll have to live in order to help them grow up.

🔹He is very supportive with their choices, unless it's something bad for them.

🔹At nights, he sings to put them to sleep, his smooth voice calming the down completely.

🔹You can find the m all sleeping together on a chair.

🔹He won't admit it, but he loves sweet food and his children are no better.

~Nokto Klein

🔹Nokto became a whole new person when you had your children.

🔹He still stayed playful for them.

🔹Nokto is happy when they are happy, he is sad when they're sad...

🔹He despises it when they hurt themselves, physically or not.

🔹He is also scared like Licht. He doesn't want then away from each other. He wants for them to be happy.

🔹Before they were born, he was scared that he wouldn't turn out to be a good father. He was scared of rejection.

🔹He lived with the same fear, until his children run up to him and hugged his legs.

"Dad! Thank you for taking us with you! We love you so much!" They said happily.

🔹Nokto.exe has stopped working.

"I love you too." He quickly hugs them to his chest, trying to keep the tears in.

🔹He is teasing them (in a good way) till there's no tomorrow. (with uncle Clavis).

🔹The children, with your help are making presents for him. He gets so happy!

🔹His past self still haunts him, but he doesn't let himself fall. He is strong.

🔹Nokto doesn't take risky jobs anymore. He takes better care of himself for the sake of his family.

🔹When stormy nights fall, his strong arms are ready to close you and the kids to his heart. It's his promise of never letting go, even in the scariest times.

~Rio Ortiz

🔹Rion is as exited as a puppy!

🔹Right after they are born, they are in his arms, cuddled up to him.

🔹Rio travels with them in other places (for personal reasons). He shows them all around and does anything they ask.

🔹Are they hungry? A whole buffet is made for them.

🔹They have his heart and mind. Sometimes, he is scared they'll think he is annoying, but they always tell him how much they love him.

🔹He takes time off his work and plays with them in the garden or in their Rooms.

🔹He always hear their problems. If he can help it, he'll tskr care of them.

🔹Rio won't let others hurt his children. If someone tries and he is in front of the scene, his hand might slip and he the other guys might get hurt.

🔹At night, he cuddle with them and they all wait for you to read them to sleep.

~Jin Grandet

🔹Jin was feeling bashful. He really wanted a family with the most beautiful person in the world (you).

🔹Like almost everyone else, his character changed a bit. He spends more time with his family.

🔹His children like to climb on his back and go fit walks. His back hurts, but are they happy? They it's worth it. End of the conversation.

🔹There are days where he is too tired so he takes food and drinks (not alcohol) and sets them on the king sized bed with you and the kids.

🔹He is manipulating Yves to cook (lol), but Yves does it for his nephew(s) /niece(s).

🔹If the children are terrified from the nightmares or other scary things outside of the windows, they'll run to him, crushing him on your bed.

🔹When morning comes, they are all over the bed, sleeping soundly.

THE END~

AN: I'm writing from my phone now, but I'll fix it when I'll get my laptop!

NadiaSilver~

Also, fun fact: When I first started the game, I fell asleep while reading/listening the prologue, because Sariel and Chevalier were speaking! I love their voices and I want them to put me to sleep every night, lololol.

#Ikemen prince #ikemen prince x reader #fanfiction #chevalier Michel #Clavis Lelouch #Sariel noir #Leon dompteur #Rio Ortiz #Yves kloss #Nokto Klein #licht Klein #Jin grandet #Luke Randolph #ikepri

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plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet - Bakugo Katsuki

A: Affection (How affectionate are they with a s/o?)

Katsuki isn’t very affectionate in the public eye, he prefers to keep most things intimate behind closed doors. In the public eye, he will throw an arm around you or hold your hand. Behind closed doors, he likes to keep you close to him and press his lips against your cheek and hands that rest on your waist.

B: Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?)

His breath can get taken away if you defend him. Being such a brash person, he’s likely to get some hate on him and he can hold his own, he doesn’t care what people say about him because he’s confident in who he is. But when he sees you talk back to some random person who was bad mouthing him, yelling and shoving your finger into their chest, he’s awestruck and impressed.

C: Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

He wants to keep his image as this intimidating guy so he won’t ever admit it to anyone else but you, but he loves cuddles. He prefers to be the big spoon. It makes him feel better, like he’s protecting you even in slumber. His arms are firm around you, pulling you close to his chest. Often times, he likes to be little spoon, he likes it when you wrap your arms around him and whisper sweet things to him as he falls asleep.

D: Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

He dreams of coming home to you and not having to worry about the outside world for a change. He loves to be a hero and he’ll strive to meet his goal but if he can just come home to you and have you pet him while he sways with you in the middle of the room. It’s a simple dream, but it’s so intimate to him.

E: Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

He puts a lot of effort in his relationships. He knows that he’s a lot to handle and that he can get tunnel vision, so he’ll always make sure that you know that you mean a lot to him. He’ll make sure to keep things on him that he knows that you’ll need, like a snack or pain killers.

F: Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

If the fear is physical, say a spider or something like that, he’s getting rid of it immediately. He’ll scoop it up and toss it out the window and walk with you to the kitchen late at night if you need a snack. If the fear stems from a more mental issues, say his career as a hero, he needs to know the specifics of it, so he can help. His career asks a lot from him and he knows it can put a strain on a relationship so he’ll get to the root of the problem and talk about it with you.

G: Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

It’s small gifts- things that you’ve mentioned wanting before or bringing a snack on the way home. Gifts aren’t extravagant unless it’s a special occasion. He usually doesn’t expect gifts, he brought it to you because he wanted to, but if you were to give him something back, he’d deeply appreciate it and bring you in for a kiss.

H: Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

He hugs fairly often. It’s more of him throwing his arms around your shoulders or hugging you from behind. He’ll hug you quite often through the day, always having an arm around you but front facing hugs are a bit rarer and reserved for when you two are alone. Those hugs always leave you breathless, they’re tight and he’s pressing you against his chest and burying his face in the crook of you neck.

I: Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

He’s a fairly romantic partner when with his significant other. He will make sure that you know where you stand in his life. He won’t go overboard with the flowers and chocolates, but he will bring you flowers on important days. He isn’t the most romantic person but he tries for you. He has no problems with intimacy. He might be stiff about it at first, but once he’s relaxed, it’s clear he has no issues with intimacy.

J: Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

He doesn’t get jealous easily, he’s actually fairly tame if someone is trying to hit on you because he knows you won’t cheat on him and he’s confident in the relationship you have with each other. However, if the person continues to hit on you and you’re now expressing discomfort and looking to him for help, he gets jealous and will wrap an arm around you and tell the other person off.

K: Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

He is a good but rough kisser. His kisses are pressed harsh against your skin and teeth nip at your bottom lip. He loves to kiss you, loves you hear you moan against his lips and feel your hands entangle into his hair. His kisses are a lot more prominent when you two are alone. You’ll wake up with a kiss and sleep with a kiss. In between, he’s leaning against you or kissing your shoulder.

L: Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Katsuki says the l-word fairly quick into the relationship. He’s a very emotional person and while the more negative emotions are shown, he also feels a lot in the other aspects. He’s one to say it out loud, acting as if it’s just another word, but his back is turned when he first says it so you won’t see the way he flares up and trying so hard not scream when the words leave his mouth. He prefers to say it- it leaves no questions about how he feels towards you. It’s common to hear him say it when it’s quiet in the room. He likes to say it and he likes to hear you say it.

M: Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?)

He would like to get married but it isn’t the biggest concern on his mind. He wouldn’t want to get married too quickly. His job is a lot, his life is at stake and he doesn’t want to risk putting someone close to him in danger or even in the position of knowing that he could just not come home one day. He’ll want to wait a while for marriage, just a few years to make sure that this is the life you really want. If he were to get married, he would like a fairly small ceremony with only close friends and family.

N: Night Out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

Date nights usually consists of going out to a nice restaurant at least once a month. He likes quiet dates where you two can just catch up or eat in peace. He knows that eating at home or ordering take-out can usually get repetitive, so he likes to take you out and get dressed up.

O: Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

There isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You want him to run to the store in the middle of the night because you want donuts; he’ll complain but he’s already out the door. However, he won’t change his entire personality. He can tweak at it a bit, control his temper and what not, but he’s not going to be “proper, young man” for you. You chose to date who he is, that’s what you’re gonna get.

P: Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

Katsuki is a playful person in a relationship. He likes to tease and poke fun at you for anything. He’ll hold you down and tickle your sides until your begging for him to stop. He likes to see you scrunch your face and stick your tongue out at him.

Q: Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

He’ll ask for your opinion on things concerning clothes and body sprays. He wants to make sure that you’ll like what he wear and smells like. However, even if you don’t like something and he does, he’ll still get it- unless it’s body spray since that’s a something that will linger. He will share his opinion even if you don’t ask for it. He’ll look over your shoulder and make a comment, smirking when you tell him you didn’t ask and he’ll shrug and let the smile grow on his face.

R: Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

Relationships with him aren’t very spontaneous. He likes to keep things regulated since his job can call for him any moment and he wants to know he has a set date to spend time with you. On the very rare occasion that there is no date planned, he’s taking you wherever he can think of, grabbing your hand and tossing everything in a bag and going around.

S: Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

Katsuki will ease into sleep with your curled up on his side but if you happen to fall asleep first, he’ll stay up as long as he can watching you, tracing your features with his hand and pressing soft, feather light kisses against you.

T: Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

He trusts you with his life. He puts all his trust in you and will come to you with whatever problem he’s having. The amount of trust he places you is immense. He doesn’t like to keep secrets form you about his life, so he’ll go up to you and just talk to you.

U: Unique (What makes them unique as an s/o?)

He’s a very brash person who isn’t afraid to say whatever is on his mind concerning his S/O. He’ll call them out if needed. His temper is something that puts people off and makes him intimidating so to see him come undone with a simple touch, where you had this aggressive man who nuzzles into your touch, and will fall apart in your arms.

V: Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

While he’s an emotional person, he’s also keeps himself very guarded. He won’t be vulnerable with you for a long time. Once he’s vulnerable, he’s taking shaky breaths and holding you tight, fingers that dig into you an face buried into your neck where you can feel tears slide. He’s a lot needier in this state, wanting to be close to you and suddenly he seems a lot smaller, letting you hold him and put him to sleep. He’ll wake up and be embarrassed about it, clicking his tongue and avoiding your gaze as he thanks you.

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

Always has cough drops on him and gargles apple cider vinegar in the morning and at night due to a sore throat because of all his screaming. You like to feed him marshmallows while he rests at night.

X: X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

If you got hurt because you stubbed your toe on the coffee table, he’s snorting and telling you to watch your step but the moment you’re out of the room, he’s shoving the coffee table somewhere else and putting a plant on it or something so it’s more noticeable. If you get injured by an outside source, either an attack or because you were caught in the crossfires of a villain attack, he’s stiff. He’s going to bite his tongue and hold you close to him but once out of sight, he’s baring his teeth and hitting things until his knuckles are bloody. His mission afterwards is to get whoever hurt you behind bars.

Y: Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

You need to be able to keep a clean space. He’s fine doing all the cooking because cooking is a learning process and he wouldn’t mind teaching you how to cook, he would find it endearing and even a good sort of date night. But cleanliness is something that needs to be established. Everything has a place and everything should be in its place.

Any habits concerning him, would be that he is an early riser. He wakes up early and opens the blinds where the light will spill in and he’ll leave them open despite you still sleeping.

Z: Zeal (Are they passionate as a s/o? Do they want or like passion?)

He’s a very passionate person as it already stands so as a partner, he’s really into the relationship. He may not go out with all the gifts and surprises, but he’s going to make sure that you know that you’re loved. He needs passion in the relationship; he wants to know if you’re as committed as he is. He loves when you come up to him and sit on his lap or hold his hand without asking, he likes it when you’re passionate about your dreams and kiss him with so much force he’s taken aback for a second before returning it tenfold.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki headcanons #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #sfw alphabet #i changed the alphabet #i think this one is a lot easier to write for #i might switch letters and stuff #we'll see #if you wanted the other alphabet just shoot me a message #i had already done that one when i found this alphabet

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plumoh · 3 years

Text

[NatsuYuu] along the seams of shadows

Rating: G

Word count: 2079

Summary: Natsume Reiko is a pitiful and lonely human.

Note: AO3 link. A look at Reiko through Madara’s eyes.

Madara’s ears twitch when the tree branch starts creaking and the leaves fall down in a whirlwind of irritating pests. He’s two seconds away from threatening whoever is disturbing his nap when laughter reaches him—a plain, boisterous laughter that leans towards mockery instead of pure joy.

“You really are just a cat, Madara!” the voice says, as close to his face as ever. “Napping on a nice patch of grass, under the sunlight?”

Madara cracks one eye open. The sun is still high in the sky and the breeze that ruffles his fur is a pleasant addition, accompanying his solitary nap far away from noisy and ridiculous small fry. But he can never escape the unpredictability of an annoying, weak human.

“If you say another word you will become my afternoon snack,” Madara warns.

The laughter becomes louder, and in the sunlight that makes shadows bigger, pale hair shines brightly while unnatural eyes glimmer with an even more vivid color.

“I’d like to see you try, you big lump of fluff.”

Natsume Reiko smells like mischief, power and loneliness.

***

This forest isn’t big enough to swallow all the rumors that float around. There is no god protecting it and spreading rules to abide by, which means that everyone is free to do as they like, much to Madara’s displeasure. He’s a magnificent beast with strength that rivals that of a god, capable of destroying entire areas of nature and banishing youkais, but people here treat him like he’s the latest entertainment, to be jeered at by everyone and nobody.

He is not a simple creature that lazes around, and he definitely is not a human child’s pet.

“You should have eaten her long ago if you’re so irritated by these rumors,” Hinoe tells him, looking far too too smug for someone who is, without a doubt, clinging the most to that girl.

“It requires too much effort,” Madara growls, flicking his tail impatiently. “Reiko probably doesn’t taste good anyway. I don’t like my prey jumping and running around, it’s exhausting to look at.”

“You are the most boring beast I know.”

Madara rolls his eyes, turning his head away. “That’s a bold accusation when Misuzu is right here.”

“Misuzu is funny, at least. You, on the other hand, are boring.”

Hinoe draws from her pipe and exhales noisily, chuckling when some of the smoke gets into Madara’s eyes. Madara groans and rises on his paws, lifting a cloud of dust and dirt along with him, and a few little plant youkais scamper off deeper into the forest with squeaks. Madara watches them flee for their lives, feeling vindicated.

“I am a respected and intimidating beast, that’s what I am,” he huffs.

“Yeah, a beast that still refuses to play a game with me because he’s scared.”

Hinoe bursts out laughing while Madara tries his hardest not to simply snap and leave. Reiko jumps down from a tree (why is she always climbing trees?) and lands onto Madara’s back, her lips curled into a grin that could have been fueled by the sun’s spite, bold but burning.

Sometimes, Madara finds himself unable to make sense out of this girl appearing and disappearing from his life like a tornado.

“I told you I don’t have time to waste on your ridiculous games,” Madara says.

Reiko tilts her head, never ceasing to be the arrogant and confident person she poses as whenever she makes her words sharp and cutting.

“Hinoe is right, you are boring,” she snickers.

Madara’s tail hits the ground in annoyance, and he shows the barest hint of his teeth.

“Don’t you have human things to do, instead of bothering me during my peaceful rest?”

Reiko shrugs, sliding off Madara. She smooths over her skirt and passes a hand through her hair, as if they’ve never seen her in a dishevelled state or covered in mud after an encounter with rambunctious youkais. She stays silent, her smile frozen, but her eyes are blazing with a quiet, raging fire that sends chills down Madara’s spine. She’s only a young girl, inexperienced and foolish, running around and upsetting the natural order of things in this forest—but behind all this brashness, Madara senses something deeply unsettling.

“Human things aren’t as interesting as coming here and hearing you grouch like an old man,” Reiko answers. “Hinoe, you said you wanted to show me a new curse.”

Madara ignores the way Hinoe coos at Reiko like she is the most precious creature she’s ever seen, and observes. Reiko is someone they shouldn’t mess with, that is for certain; Madara doesn’t quite know yet why he cannot shake off the feeling she’s wrapping them around her finger.

***

Madara being Reiko’s pet becomes more of a joke than a real fact believed by everyone, and ultimately it doesn’t change anything in the way Madara’s strength is perceived. The others make fun of him for letting her live in spite of the influence she has on his image as the greatest beast of the forest, but for the time being he’s one of the very few who didn’t get his name down in the stupid book, so there.

There has been some turmoil and unrest in the neighborhood, lately. A vicious youkai destroying everything standing in its way, threatening small fry for information and leaving behind trails of blood that scare the weakest of them. Madara doesn’t feel particularly concerned about this kind of rampage, which happens a lot more often than people would believe. It’s best to let it pass and not get involved in this youkai’s affairs.

That is what he would have done, were he alone. In times like these, Madara remembers why he chose to live in solitude and not surrounded by other beings who have the survival instincts of insignificant bugs.

“The destroyed trees fall down and block some roads in the forest,” Reiko grumbles, tapping her foot. “People can’t circulate anymore, and cleaning that mess up will take many weeks.”

Madara sighs, glancing at the area of destruction. The claw marks on the trunks indicate that whoever they’re going to go up against might rival Madara in size, while the pace at which the forest is being attacked tells them it’s also nimble on its feet. Not an ideal situation, then.

“Why do you care about that?” Madara asks, turning back his head to look at her. “You don’t like the people of this town, and they don’t wander in the forest as frequently as you do.”

Sometimes, imperceptibly, Madara catches a flicker of pain in Reiko’s eyes at the mere mention of her own desires. It’s not a physical pain, nor is it a pain associated with the events she’s currently dealing with—it comes from within, deep from her soul and emerging in her gaze for one second. She hides it well. She carries this pain everywhere she goes, but she hides it well.

Madara never comments on it. He watches her school the features of her face back into ones she’s crafted over the years, all mischieviousness and no nonsense. Reiko grins and acts like the royal princess she has become in this tiny pocket of otherworldly space she is the only one to trespass into.

“I don’t like seeing people do whatever they want, like they’re owning this place,” she declares, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “The smaller youkais have been pestering me to do something about it. And it’s destroying my napping spots, too. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to have your favorite tree cut down either.”

She’s an odd girl and a mystery Madara doesn’t pretend to understand. She’s confidence and contradiction and selfishness all at once, making it impossible to untangle the knots of her emotions—she uses words and rash actions to cover it up, like a nice tapestry concealing the damage done by a kid’s tantrum.

There is kindness in her selfishness, Madara thinks. Reiko obeys no one’s rules, and she makes up her own for her silly games, but her heart isn’t as corrupted as it may seem. And for this lost human shunned by everyone, doing small services unseen by her peers, Madara only feels pity.

He huffs, and takes off to find the troublesome youkai, whose name will end up tied to a piece of paper.

***

“That book of yours is useless if you’re not using its intended purpose.”

“Its intended purpose is to show off and to instill fear in my enemies.”

“You don’t have natural enemies, foolish girl, you’re creating them yourself.”

Reiko tips her head backwards and laughs, a sound carrying over the wind and echoing against the stone walls. She looks at Madara like he’s the one who has said idiotic things.

“It’s preemptive,” she says. “I’ve never felt that powerful before inventing the book.”

“The words that come out of your mouth are incomprehensible to me,” Madara grunts. “Humans are so unnecessarily complicated and confusing.”

“Don’t talk like you know how humans behave. You’ve barely had any contact with them.”

“And this is exactly why I find them annoying.”

Reiko smiles. She has her legs plunged into the cold but clear water of the lake, on this summer day that feels both too hot and too humid. Madara himself is lying down, head pillowed on his front legs and enjoying the slow pace of his day. He warned Reiko that playful and impish youkais would steal her shoes, that she had carelessly thrown in the grass, but she shrugged and didn’t find it particularly upsetting.

How strange, and how perplexing, to encounter someone who doesn’t adhere to any of the world concepts Madara knows. Reiko doesn’t belong to the realm of ordinary humans, and she has no knowledge of the exorcist community; she is an entity dancing on the blurred hinge of these worlds.

“I don’t need to use the power of their names, since I’ll never see them again,” Reiko finally says. “It’s only awkward if I happen to meet one of them and can’t remember who they are.”

“So you admit this book is useless to you,” Madara snorts. “Give it to me, then.”

Reiko scoops up water between her hands, and flicks it at Madara’s eyes. Madara wrinkles his nose and staggers back, glaring at Reiko’s self-satisfied expression.

“You’re a nuisance,” he tells her.

“And you’re not fun,” Reiko replies. “It’s my Book of Friends, so you don’t get to steal it from me. Attaching a name to a face makes it easier to call them friends.”

A pitiful human, truly.

“...They’re not your friends,” Madara says.

Reiko’s shrug feels measured. She gets out of the water, doesn’t bother drying her feet before retrieving her shoes (that are still where she left them) and putting them on. Madara’s eyes follow her movements, choosing to remain where he is.

“Maybe not,” Reiko concedes, her back turned on Madara. “I wouldn’t want to, anyway. But they gave me their names. Names are important, right?”

Natsume Reiko barges into their life without prompting and wrecks havoc on everything they know. She rips away their routine and replaces it with unpredictable events, summoned by her presence alone in these lands. She moves like nothing ties her down anywhere, but she’s restless. The tightness around her shoulders makes her small and fragile, when her entire attitude seems to prove she is none of that.

Madara doesn’t understand her. Her words and her actions are hard to parse, and he’s not sure she understands herself sometimes. She is simply grander than life itself.

“I hope you’ll play a game with me one day, Madara.” Reiko doesn’t fully face him but a small smile pulls up her lips. “You can’t run away from me forever!”

“Hmpf. I’m not interested in these childish games.”

“You’ll change your mind eventually!”

Reiko waves her hand and disappears in the forest, probably heading back to the home of her caretakers. Madara actually doesn’t know if she does live with them—she could have taken up residence in one of the old shrines with how often she visits them, for all he knows.

Madara curls up and closes his eyes. The Book of Friends, she’s called it. Such an innocent name for what is probably the most dangerous weapon against youkais—and it is simply used by a sentimental girl as a personal reassurance she is not alone.

Natsume Reiko already has friends. She just chooses not to see it.

#natsuyuu #natsume yuujinchou #natsume reiko #nyanko sensei #madara #rattles the bars of my cage i want to know what their relationship was like!!#i love the idea of sensei finding reiko interesting but also feeling sad for her #please @ midorikawa i need answers

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Gardens #1 (1/1/2021)

Click here if you're like "What the heck is this about?"

Valera @autokrates fights an annoying sibling. Alastor cheers for the great show and does absolutely nothing to help. Sir Pentious @hiss-and-vinegar fusses over Valera's wounds.

Valera

*Ah, the gardens. Just the place for Valera and her brother to get into a no holds barred bareknuckle brawl away from her guests. Far enough that nobody has to hear them snapping and snarling at each other, close enough that neither has far to drag the other at the end of the dramatic little affair. Fortunately, fights don't actually take thirty minutes to muddle through for most people, these fish included. Five or so minutes of hissing and biting at their imperfect duplicates, and at the end, Valera limps away with Volitan's arm clenched in her jaws and a few pounds of flesh lighter. Neither comes away feeling better, but at least there's fresh fish to feed to the guests who craved a more cannibalistic slant to their meals.*

*The fountain is good enough to rinse the worst of this mess off, and Volitan can go let the ocean burn his wounds clean for all she cares. Her friends can't see her like this. She'll need... What, half an hour to close her wounds? They shouldn't notice.*

**Happy New Years.**

Alastor

From a high window a large crowd loudly cheers, whistles, and applauds.

It's Alastor, he's the large crowd. Him and his invisible audience.

He doesn't know what's going on but it was hella entertaining to watch.

Valera

Thank the gods Alastor was far enough away to probably not hear the undignified squeak that she made when she realized she had a witness, Valera's emotions were shot enough without embarrassment on top of it. Head jerking back to seek him out among the windows... Ah. There he is. Game face, Val, give him a thumbs up. With Volitan's arm! Lovely. In fact... She's just going to send it off to him, a little flotation between friends.

"Here! I'm going to be a while, be a dear and butcher this, would you? I'd hate to see it spoil while I cleaned up."

Alastor

Look at the delight on his face! "You're a TERRIFIC host!" He bows out the window so deeply it's impressive he doesn't fall out, then runs off with his new culinary treat. He's going to make something decadent with this.

But first he's gonna bite off a chunk from the severed end.

Sir Pentious

A certain snake is slimthering.... he is wearing the long robe that Valera gifted to him for Hissmas. He's searching for his love, now that he's properly warm and bask-ed. The smell of blood has his tongue flicking out longer, and he's drawn to it... slimther slimther...

"MY DEAR?"

Valera

The sound of Pentious' voice makes Valera tense up, swearing under her breath. What's the human phrase? Out of the frying pan, into the fire? She'd rather have Alastor and his cheerfully uncaring amusement, Pentious might actually *worry*. But it was too late to pretend nothing was wrong. So.. Time to do what she does best, then.

She perches on the edge of the fountain, posing just so to keep the worst of her injuries away from her beau's many eyes. A hand in her lap to artfully cover her thigh, tail conveniently looped around her legs before dropping back into the fountain. Natural? No. But it might be enough! Maybe! If she can distract him. "Penny! Hello dearest, enjoying the weather tonight?"

Sir Pentious

"YESSS, MY DEAR, THE WEATHER ISSS NICE. THE AIR ISSS SO GOOD HERE, A NICE CHANGE FROM SSSSULFUR." Tongue flicking, but he's definitely sure that's blood he smells... or something similar! He was used to Valera's blood, as he'd bitten her *quite a few times.*

A head tilt, and his face squishes inquisitively. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE...?"

Valera

"I'm glad to hear you're enjoying my home, my love." Her tail wiggles in the fountain, eyes scrunching up into half moons. Even if she was trying to keep him from getting too nosy, it was still nice to see him happy on Okkylk.

Right. A question. "Me? I'm sitting, obviously. You just missed Alastor though, I think he ran off to the kitchen with his latest prize."

Sir Pentious

"I'M NOT LOOKING FOR ALASSSTOR. THERE'SSS TOO MANY OF HIM HERE! BUT ONLY ONE OF YOU." He slithers closer, head tilted.

".... I SSSMELL YOUR BLOOD."

Valera

She twitches, hand lifting off her injured thigh to wave dismissively. "Yes, darling. I got into a bit of a tussle, you see. "

Sir Pentious

"A BIT?" His eyes widen and... He comes closer, trying to peer around her to see the damage.

Valera

... A choice is presented to her. Trust her fiance, or.. don't, and upset him. So, despite the immediate impulse to deflect, she reluctantly lifts her tail from the water. Or, what's left of it. The end seems to have been sliced off, gods only know where the fin went.

Sir Pentious

His eyes widen considerably, then NARROW. His hood opens and he's careful to put his arms around her, trying to mind any more wounds.

"BETTER NOT HAVE BEEN ONE OF THE *ALASSSTORSSS!!* WHO WAS IT?!"

Valera

A few scrapes and scuffs are hardly enough to keep Valera from leaning into a hug. "Alastor? No, of course not. I fought my brother! He tried to scold me again and I'd simply had enough!"

A pause as she nuzzles her face into his shoulder, purring softly. "I took his arm off, so don't feel TOO bad for me."

Sir Pentious

Ah, that *brother.* Sir Pentious growls like the cobra he is, vividly imagining tearing the man apart--not that he'd really seen him yet but he could guess.

"HE OUGHT TO THINK ABOUT HOW FORTUNATE IT ISSSS THAT YOU LET HIM LIVE!! INSSSULTING THE AUTOCRAT!! BROTHER OR NOT, HE'D BE *QUARTERED* IF HE WERE MINE."

Valera

She shrugs, lifting a leg to inspect the damage. A few cuts, nothing to write home about. Hilda would probably want to put stitches in a few of them, but Val was pretty sure they'd close on their own. They'd mostly stopped bleeding, at least. "I assume fighting with family is a normal part of having one? Maybe not physically, but Veci do tend to be more direct than humans. He doesn't like the way I do things, I don't like him acting like he knows better. We fought, I won, so I'm right."

Sir Pentious

That sounded much simpler.... But Penny couldn't help his frown. He took her hand in his, and kissed it.

"He hurt you. I would tear reality asunder for you and your smile, my love."

Valera

... Ah. Valera has to try very hard not to make a noise like a deflating balloon crossed with a dying whale, wheezing quietly and folding in at the waist as Pentious metaphorically stabs her with surprise affection straight to the heart. Thunk. Her head, thumped down to his chest. Don't look at her. Don't acknowledge her. She's feeling feelings.

Sir Pentious

He's petting down her hair, looking over her damage and that gored tail....

Penny gently pets down said tail, careful to mind the wounds.

Valera

Give her a bit to recover, and then she'll perk back up to see what he's doing there.

"Hm? Something wrong, love?"

Sir Pentious

"OF COURSE. YOU'RE BLEEDING AND WOUNDED AND OUT HERE BY YOURSSSSELF." He's looking so concerned... "I DON'T HAVE ANY BANDAGES ON HAND...."

Valera

"What?" Wait, right. Aliens worry a lot more about that kind of thing, huh? ..Or was that everyone not heavily traumatized and used to regrowing limbs? Hard to keep track, really. Whatever. He's concerned, which is the OPPOSITE of what she wanted!

Quick, say something comforting! "I'll be okay, darling! I'm used to... it...?" She squints. Wait. No. That sounds bad, actually. "It'll grow back in a few minutes! You'd never know I was hurt!" YEAH THAT'S THE ONE.

Sir Pentious

Frown! WEH!

"WHO CARESSSS WHETHER I KNOW OR NOT, YOU *ARE* HURT! AND I WANT TO HELP!"

Valera

She looks... A bit baffled. But once she's over the initial surprise, she takes one of his hands in hers and pats it.

"Oh. Um. Alright, do you want to.. Help me to the bathroom? I'm sure we've got medical supplies in there."

Sir Pentious

Listen, caring about other people is not Penny's strong suit, but he cares so so much about Valera.

"YESSS, GLADLY."

Valera

Being cared about is not something Valera is used to, she's not sure how to handle being the one getting fussed over. But if it makes Pentious happy... She'll try to fumble through it. Time to get up, then. He can't lift her, but taking the weight off the worst leg should make it easier to not open anything on her carpets.

Awkward cough.. "Thank you, love. I was just going to sit out here until everything healed over, but. This is better."

Sir Pentious

"YOU SHOWED ME THAT I DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE ANYMORE... SO, PLEASE LET ME SHOW YOU THAT, TOO." Hand kiss....

Valera

He's lucky she's already standing or else she'd do the affection wheeze all over again. But no, she has to hide her face against him like a normal person and pray the blush doesn't reach the tips of her fins. Just. Just going to take his arm and let him lead her along, then.......

Sir Pentious

Off they go..... To the bathroom........ Womance....

Valera

He can put salve on her wounds and wrap up the more uncomfortable ones, and she will be very embarrassed and very grateful... And also whine a lot because ow, the salve Hilda makes is NOT soothing in the slightest, it burns!!! Sure heals things fast though, the smaller cuts vanish in moments!

#extermination party palace #autokrates #hissandvinegar #chat log

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og-danny-dorito · 4 years

Text

《 Call Out My Name 》

〔 A/N :

Hey, I know no one likes reading this part so I'll try to make it brief. This was done as a gift for @youthbitch whom is very entertaining and sweet and honestly just flat out adorable with the coolest and most creative ideas I've heard in a really long time. I hope y'all like this, even though it's not that great of a project considering some of my other stuff. Basically Jason tells the reader to vent and they do, leading to an awkward pat and a promise that he'll be there for them. Tell me if y'all want gendered five or not and I'll release ones for any genders separately or change the pronouns in some to be custom to male, female and/or gender neutral. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you like the story thing.

⁃ Danny ✌🏼🗿 〕

<<------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->>

Cigarette smoke pooled on the hotel ceiling. The scent of it hanging in the air, the visual as it whisked in curls on itself as it moved freely, even the feeling of it curving around your skin made you feel the familiar sensation of a flipping stomach. You could remember the exact moment where this had all began; where the phone calls on the middle of the night and the surprise break-ins through your window took place has remained no lost memory even though it happened quite a few months ago. There was always someone nearby, always someone watching. It had been like that from the beginning.

He was quiet as he breathed, his eyes closed as he inhaled the smoke from the cigarette between his left index and middle finger. It was a crime how pretty he looked while breathing in that cancer stick. A self destructive item for an equally self destructive person, you supposed, but it didn't stop you from feeling the same amount guilt for not being able to talk him out of it. You weren't perfect; you never had been. And you didn't intend to make it so either. So why did he look at you like that? Why when he touched you, you felt like the most implant person on the planet? Why, even though he rarely spoke, did his words feel like they were made for you? A chunk of you felt shame for it.

Shame for the selfishness of wanting to keep him there, with you, away from what he so often found solace in even though it was a continuation of the past events that left him so scarred and beaten. You weren't a perfect empath, but if you were in his position, every day would feel like the beginning of the end. Waiting for it to all come back looping. For the cycle of attachment, pain and grief to repeat itself only to halt when he could no longer bear to witness its gruesome pillage of the people around him and himself. No matter how strong he was, he felt the pain. And you saw it. When you were alone. When you were quiet and settled. With his hands gripped tightly to you and his head rested in the nook of your shoulder. Armor did only so much with a fragile warrior underneath.

"I can almost hear your thoughts from over here." His voice was low, kept quiet due to the desire to keep this serene state of the room. The TV ran, but the words weren't heard. Background noise; always a good deterrent from doing any hard and focused thinking. He seemed to take another drag from his cigarette, and, turning his head over to roll in your direction, he shifted in place to adjust his sore muscles a little. Jason hadn't bothered to undress into pajamas much less take of his shoes before getting into the bed, settling with just putting on the TV, lighting a cig and letting his thoughts run with a warm body next to him. Of course, he hadn't ever implied using you as just a warm body, but you had thought it over and decided you didn't mind much if he used you like that for a night or two.

You were quiet before glancing over, leaning your head back against the board of the cheap bed frame. Silence. You couldn't find anything to say that might contribute, but he managed to stay patient. You noticed he was getting better at that lately; he must've been going to therapy more often lately. "Something up?", he said, concern lacing his tone. You raised a brow, moving your head over just enough to roll to meet his eyes. Vibrant green, like radioactive waste., almost like they were glowing. A light at the end of a river. Or a beacon of a lost past long since having been chased after in hopes of its repeat. The question jarred a small grin out of you. "Not much you'd be interested in. Why, you wanna switch listening positions for tonight?", you asked, sounding coy. He snorted a little, rolling his eyes before taking another drag from the cigarette. It was interesting to see how his lips closed around it. They were chapped but full. Almost made you wonder what they'd feel like under the pad of your thumb, but you were smarter than tricking yourself into thinking it would happen.

Jason exhaled the smoke after keeping it in his lungs for a while. It shot from his lips quickly, soon rising to the ceiling before eventually dissipating after a few moments of lingering around it. It was so dim in here you could imagine that the ceiling wasn't grimy and stained from previous chainsmokers. But you doubted anyone else had revealed the deepest parts of themselves like you had both done before here. His amused grin turned to a small frown as time passed, and you watched as his brows furrowed. "I'm..." he paused. "I'm just concerned, is all. You just seem a little dissociated. Haven't contacted anyone lately or really talked to anyone in a few days, even me. I might be reading this whole thing wrong, but if something's up, you can...” He took a second to shift a bit in his seat. “...I want you to let me know."

The last sew words seemed to permeate for a good few reasons, but he spoke with such determination in his voice you swore he'd hunt down and strangle your problems to death if it weren't for the fact that they weren't tangible. You ran a hand through your hair, and almost immediately he managed to grab a small strand and twirl it between two fingers. He had always been fascinated with your hair, although you never found much special about it. He seemed to care more about smaller details than the bigger picture. For a good few seconds, you remained quiet, eyebrows furrowing to try to figure out what the hell to say without making yourself seem pissed off.

He extended the cigarette to you, and you shook your head before straightening up a bit. The bed creaked under the pressure. "I uh..." You squinted at the TV ahead. Seemed like some infomercial was on, but it didn't catch your interest. Even though you wanted to, you didn't change the subject entirely to the infomercial since he'd pinpoint that as avoiding the question and would then be even more worried for you. You attempted to sort your thoughts, but you supposed venting wasn't about organization. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I like...I'm just getting tired of all the shit around me, yknow? I just want things to change."

He nodded, making sure to slowly make his way up to rub at your scalp. It felt oddly nice, maybe even a little soothing, to have someone vaguely pulling upon your hair. He was quiet, taking drags from his cigarette whilst also paying close attention to you. But thankfully not to the point of feeling like you were being scrutinized. "But..my goal takes time. And I'm a patient person, but I can't...I don't want to wait if it's all I do. I wonder a lot if it'd be different if I was somewhere else in a different environment, but I don't want to just...leave everyone. I've got a good system set up.", you said, furrowing your brows. Jason was quiet as he listened but made sure to nod while you spoke. He sighed a little, leaning back. You were feeling yourself sink into the mattress. You had to get somewhere tomorrow, but it wouldn't kill you to fall asleep here. You'd probably sleep easier if you were next to him, anyway.

He seemed to tense a bit at the last part, but spoke nothing of it. The only way you could tell was how his left bicep shook a little to make your hair feel like you were being petted like a cat, but he covered it up by shifting quickly enough to play it off as an attempt to get more comfortable. You pursed your lips. Maybe he felt uncomfortable. You refrained from talking for the moment, letting him mess with your hair for now. It made you feel at ease, although the tenseness in your shoulders gave away your lack of relaxation. From the corner of your eye you could see him slow to a stop in his movements, scooting a bit closer to your side. "What would you do if you could?"

The question made you pause, head tilting back to expose the bare flesh of your neck and the slight sheen of sweat that formed on the surface like a veil. It wasn't even that hot in here, but since he was an old man and always hated the cold he cranked it up enough to leave you a little damp on the skin. He might've liked it actually; the way it shone in the light brightly to make this messy afterglow on you was priceless. It was odd to think that you weren't just some vivid hallucination he felt when he got like this, that you were a living body with weight and a mind and tangible flesh. Even more so, it was odd to think that you even felt comfortable talking to him about this. Jason didn't deserve this. He was becoming more sure of it as time passed.

"I don't know. I..." Your brows furrowed, leaving you with your eyes blankly looking to the tv. White noise, a distraction. A distraction from focused thoughts or too much of them. The only time it wasn't helpful was when you were trying to genuinely sort out your thoughts; like writing words on a page, only to have your elbows violently jerked every so often by some outside force to derail you for a few moments. Your joints and muscles felt sore from the day. It had been a long one, and you were pretty sure you needed another swig of the beer that was sitting between your thighs. Grabbing it, you brought the rim of the bottle to your lips, letting it clink against your teeth softly before allowing the burning to go down your throat.

He was quiet as you did this, letting his hand fall to his lap where the cigarette slowly burned out. "I wouldn't know where to go from here. I mean I have an idea but I don't know if it'll work...", you trailed off, letting your head drop. It took Jason a moment to fully register what you said but by the time he did he was already splaying his hand out at the back of your scalp. His hands had always been chapped, regardless of whether he was working or not. Always something to keep him busy. Always something to keep his mind off of things. But he didn't feel the anxiety he had before at most things. Now it was a dull undertone of a feeling, a familiar knot in his chest that made his brows furrow together and his mouth pull into a taut line in thought, just as he had now.

You assumed he was listening intently, but a part of you wished he would feel more than you thought. Simple confusion was easy to decipher, but he seemed more...concerned. Concerned for you. Which seemed like an odd concept right now considering you did most of the worrying. But you didn't question it, and after a few long moments of glaring at the TV screen and letting the slow feeling of sleepiness come over you, you felt the hand leave your scalp to snake around your shoulders.

This initially caught you off guard, but as soon as you saw that Jason was narrowly avoiding eye contact and lighting another cigarette with his free hand and the stick between his teeth, you found yourself cracking a small but noticeable grin. The bags under your eyes seemed to disappear for a moment as the muscles beneath your cheeks scrunched up. "It's uh... it's gonna be okay, alright?", he said gently enough to hear but not loud enough to echo. You sunk a bit into the mattress and his arm behind your head, head turning lazily in his direction. For a moment he seemed awkward, but at your relaxation into his embrace, you felt his arms soothe a bit under the pressure and revert from their tensed state. "Is it?"

The teasing question made him avert his eyes even further, finding interest in the wall nearby. But it was noticeable that he was blushing, regardless of the poor lighting in the room. Here- where it smelled like ashes and cleaning products, where the light burned a dying yellow and the mattress creaked under little to no pressure, where the smallness of the room and bolted down furniture made you feel odd and away from home. Here is where you felt the most safe right now. Not with anyone else, not anywhere else. Just here. And as you reached over for the cigarette between his lips to take a drag from it yourself, you watched as the smoke rose to the ceiling and dissipated without another word.

"I'm here for you, Y/n."

<<_E N D_>>

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