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buck-nialled · 3 years

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3:1 - B. Barnes Imagine

NOTE: this is my first time writing for bucky or sebastian stan in general so feedback is appreciated! please let me know if you like this and if you'd like to see more. THIS DOES CONTAIN SMUTTY UNDERTONES TOWARDS THE END, MINORS DNI

TAGLIST: I just added sebastian stan/characters to my taglist form so if you already filled it out before just message me and I'll add you to this one.

three times bucky was clueless with technology and the one time he used it right

Despite spending most of his less-than-average life inside of a giant freezer and aging up to triple digits—if we’re speaking technically, your boyfriend still gained many physical benefits compared to most men his age. For one thing, he is still alive and breathing—a huge accomplishment, if anything, maybe even a record. The physical appearance and athletic ability he still maintained were not a downside either. As far as anybody is concerned, James Buchanan Barnes appears like any other millennial/super-soldier/metal arm-bearing person.

With exception to the fact that the man himself can’t even call you on your phone without needing assistance. That sentence is way less sad when taking into account that he was not alive for the upbringing of touch screens and AI’s, which happened to be waiting everywhere around the complex to aid him and his various, enigmatic asks, such as:

“My phone died. How do I revive it?”

“What did I win a free iPad for?”

“Friday, what does the word ‘bih’ mean?”

Once speaking the last one, he is left unanswered, and Friday is alerting you in the living area moments later.

“Y/N, Mr. Barnes is needing your assistance with a text you sent. He would like a definition of the word ‘bih’ but I cannot find it in my dictionary.” The AI asking for your help in babysitting Bucky on his phone earns a snort from you.

“Thanks, Friday. I’ll go help him.” You heave yourself up from the couch cushion and march towards his bedroom--technically, it is both of yours now. After reaching the entrance, a smile crawls onto your lips at the sight before you. The hefty Miriam-Webster English dictionary splayed open on your lover’s lap as he flips through pages, reciting miscellaneous words his eyes land on in search of the one from your message.

“Big, bin, bio…” Seconds later, he is slamming the book shut and tossing it aside. A loud thud resounds across the room as you watch it land on the hardwood floor. When you glance back up to announce your presence to Bucky, you see his gaze already transfixed on you. A quiet huff comes from him, and his eyes avert from your figure in the doorway, his cheeks becoming tinged with an opaque red. It was no puzzle that the sergeant despised calling for help, even on the minuscule tasks, like how to turn the flash of his camera off or define a slang term unbeknownst to him until your message was delivered to his phone.

“A little birdy told me you needed help.” You cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the doorframe with a satisfied smirk. You were one of the few and trusted Bucky had learned to open up to in the time that you have come to know him. No matter the issue, or how long it took for you to wear down the stubbornness on his tongue, the plea would sound eventually.

“I just don’t know what this word means.” He grunts. “Is it a typo?”

A line of giggles fall from you at his hopelessly confused expression--eyebrows furrowed, pupils appearing lost in thought at this simple “code word” he couldn’t crack. It made you want to swaddle him in the softest blanket and cuddle him until eternity.

“That’s because it’s not a real word,” you begin through laughs. The scrunch on his face only deepens in its perplexity. “‘Bih’ is short for...it’s short for bitch.” You shrug. His mouth parts in revelation.

“So you...you think I’m a…” he turns his eyes down to the pixelated string of messages…”thick female dog?” You snicker.

“‘Thick bih’ is a compliment, Buck. It just means I like your body a lot.”

“Oh...thank you?” He casts his eyes up at you once more, quirking a brow.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyways...now that you’re here. I emailed you a photo.” He shoots a wink in your direction. Almost as though you two had traded faces, the confused look transferred over to your wrinkled forehead and tilted head.

“Oh...okay. I’ll check it later.”

You thought nothing of it, and let his statement slip your mind. It was not until later that you decided to scan through your emails with Wanda, who mentioned something mission-related in your inbox that she demanded the two of you look at and study. As you skimmed through to find it, you deleted several junk emails and starred some important ones. When you landed on the electronic mail your boyfriend mentioned earlier and clicked on it, your breath left you at the large photo of his considerably-sized girth.

“Woah! Woah!” Wanda squeals, reaching her hand up to shield her eyes now tainted with the sight of your man’s junk. The early afternoon comes back into your mind, with you against the doorframe, Bucky throwing the dictionary and demanding a translation of your text, and the wink he threw at you.

Of course, the wink. It should have been obvious what the intentions behind his email were at that point, but then again it really shouldn’t have. Because who sends nude photos over email?

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, now wearing red cheeks. You turn to face Wanda who is already out of her seat and facing away from the computer screen, calling back to you in a desperate scurry to her room, “We’ll just talk later!”

“Bucky,” you enter the bedroom with a growl minutes later, a rather great contrast to what you were feeling earlier in the day.

“Hey, doll. Did you ever open my email?” He was seated on the edge of the bed, eyeing something on his phone. He quickly pockets it, allowing you his undivided attention.

“Yeah, and Wanda had something to say about it too.” The comment came out through gritted teeth, but he deciphered every word. His blue eyes enlarged, petrified.

“She was with you? Wh-why’d you let her see it?” He almost squeals in his fit of mortification. Serves him right, you think to yourself. He won’t have to face Wanda and apologize to her later.

“I didn’t know when you said “picture” earlier you meant a nude! Who sends a dick pic over email, Bucky?” Silence follows your outcry until his deep voice pipes up moments later.

“Is that not normal?” He is fiddling with his fingers, clenching his teeth in anticipation of your answer. Which is an expected:

“No.” The man in front of you turns feeble, wearing a humiliated face that turns your insides to mush. The twenty-plus minutes of lashing you were practicing in your head on your walk to the room disappeared as he turns his face down.

“I’m sorry, doll. You know...you know I’m not good with this stuff.” A sigh exits your lips as Bucky is approached by your consoling figure. You take a seat beside him on the bed and a comforting hand takes place on his metal shoulder, with you leaning your head down on the flesh one, closest to you.

“I know, Buck. Just warn a girl next time...with more than a wink.”

“In 1943 that was considered a warning.” The two of you chuckle.

“You know what, better yet...” your hands are flying to his pocket before he can stop them. He barely utters the question before you’re fingertips are tapping across the screen.

“Hey, what’re you--”

“You should really put a lock on this thing.” You chuckle. “A thumbprint, passcode...something.”

“You can do that?” His ludicrous question has you fighting a roll of your eyes. Shaking your head, you wait a few moments for the application to install on the device, and smile triumphantly when the neon yellow square pops up on his home screen. The white ghost in the middle of the icon stares back at him when you place the phone back in his hands.

“There you go.”

“What is this?” He clicks the app to find out for himself, only to be met with the options of logging in or creating an account.

“An app that’s appropriate for sending nudes.” Shivers trail down his spine from your whisper against the shell of his ear. He hums, admiring the screen for a few seconds and taking no further action to make an account.

“You need help, don’t you?”

“It’d be appreciated.”

Since that encounter, your significant other has learned the basics of social platforms and how to properly exploit each one for his needs. Ignoring the one week where he discovered Snapchat filters and send photos of himself in every single one nonstop, the most common one you two have grown to use is the messaging application. It was efficient and easy for him to understand.

Until he, much like when he used Snapchat, discovered something new. And that something new was emojis. After receiving a Snapchat notification from him, which could no doubt be holding either a photo of him with the dancing weiner or his actual one, he shot you a text message from across the compound.

did you see my chatsnap? 🌚

You chose to disregard the blatant, incorrect name and reply:

yes, buck. I get notifications

and WHY THE HELL DID YOU SEND THAT EMOJI??? 😫

what? it’s just a moon 🌚🌚🌚 see?

I can see it’s a moon Bucky. Why did you choose that one?

It’s nighttime. and I’m smiling. It fits.

It’s creepy is what it is

It’s just a moon! 🌚

STOP SENDING IT! 😖😖

fine.

🌝

🤦‍♀️ that’s not what I meant

it’s not my fault you’re scared of the moon, y/n 💅

You chose to change the subject then, no longer holding the desire to stare at the infamous “molester moon” or bucky’s new use of emojis in a sassy manner

please tell me the snap you sent isn’t of the dancing hot dog again

I could tell you that

but I’d be lying if I did.

🙄

🌝 I think this one's my favorite

The third time Bucky struggled with the new-age doodads surrounding him, his rage was at an all-time high. But his reaction is justifiable after discovering it was purely out of fear.

“Do you know what the weather’s gonna be like tomorrow?” He mumbles as the two of you were longing on the bed, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck and shoulder.

“Not sure, why?”

“Was thinkin’ we could go to that café. The one with the jukebox.” His head bounces with your body as you let out a few light laughs.

“Because it’s the one piece of technology you can actually use?” He pulls away from you defensively, a frown smeared on his face.

He whines out. “I am not that bad with technology?” You roll your eyes and reach for your phone on the bedside table, clicking the button on the side.

“Hey Siri, what’s the weather look like tomorrow?” You ask aloud, cueing Bucky to furrow his eyebrows.

“Let’s see...the weather tomorrow—“ you were unable to hear the rest of the AI’s sentence due to the sight of Bucky springing out of bed and tugging the set of sharpened knives from his pants.

“Whose there? Who the hell said that?”

“Bucky—“

“I think the complex may have been hacked. Come on, let’s go get Bruce o-or somebody.” He stutters out in a panic, tugging your body behind him in a protective manner. Siri was still activated on your phone, which was now lying on the bed.

“I’m not quite sure I understand—“

“Who the hell are you?!” He demands in a loud voice.

“Bucky, Bucky…” you rest your hands on both his shoulders, urging him to calm down. “It’s just my phone.” After the quick reassurance, he feels his shoulders slump.

“Oh...oh…I knew that.” He puts his knives away, following you as you crawled back into bed. Before fully getting beneath the covers, he sheathes himself of his trousers and top, leaving him only in a pair of boxers.

“Sure you did.” You reply.

“I did.” He insists, before covering both of you with your comforter. Before succumbing to a much-needed rest though, he reaches over and grabs a knife left on the floor, tucking it beneath his pillow.

Just in case.

The following morning, Bucky is no longer paranoid that the complex was hijacked and broken into. Rather, his mind was on a package he ordered online (AND ALL BY HIMSELF, a large victory if you ask him) that, according to the tracker, is one stop away. When you peeked your eyes open to admire him beneath the covers basking in the morning glow, his mischievous smile lit something warm inside you.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You yawn through languid blinks. He only responds with a shrug, aiming to keep the box a secret.

“Big day ahead, why don’t you go start us a shower. I’ll meet you there.” He smirks, blue eyes flashing with something cunning. At this point, you were even more curious.

“Big day? I thought we were just going for coffee?”

“When I’m with you, it’s always a big day.” His raspy voice is sly, metal hand even slyer as it glides up and down your hip.

“Alright Barnes, you win. See you in a minute.” You press your lips to his for a short few seconds and heave your body up from the bed to venture to the connected bathroom. As soon as you crack the door behind you, Bucky leaps from his spot in the sheets and nearly stumbles to the ground, his foot getting tangled in part of the bedding. He wastes no time scurrying to the front door, nearly nude and praying to God nobody would cross paths with him. Seeing the package laying on the doormat in all its glory--Bucky swore he heard angels singing hymns from above. Taking it into his grip and hustling back to his room took little-to-no time. When he slipped inside of the bathroom, he found you removing your hair from the messy knot you threw it up in the night prior, the rest of you bare.

He dropped his boxers and followed you inside the transparent cube, soon to become fogged with the warm steam and your panting breaths if he is lucky enough to pull another round from you.

Spoiler alert, he got lucky. Twice.

Whilst getting dressed, he halts your attempt at wiggling on a pair of leggings.

"I have a surprise for you." He says, waltzing over to the package he haphazardly threw on the bed in his eagerness to join you in the shower. The package lies in your hands seconds later, Bucky delivering you a nod as permission to tear it open. Once you do, your jaw unhinges at the packaging.

The small, pink sex toy stared back at you in all its glory. You could only muster a few blinks at it, wondering how your boyfriend managed to deliver this to himself all on his own yet still strains himself in trying to change his profile picture.

"Wha--how..." you are at a loss of words, to say the least. His piercing blue eyes grow dark at the sight of you holding his surprise.

"It's a big day today, because..." he snatches the packaged toy from you, beginning to open it, "you're gonna wear this out for me today. And I'm gonna control it." Your eyes grow big at his explanation before they dart to the now unpackaged vibrator.

"There's no remote." You point out, and gasp as Bucky holds up his phone for your eyes to see. The application which connects the controls of the vibrator to his phone stares back at you dauntingly.

"Figured I'd give this wifi-powered one a try. But, you know how I am with technology so...it may take awhile for me to get the hang of it," his tone is sultry as he mumbles, and it sends chills through you that directly target your privates. His eyes bore into yours, still holding that look of playfulness from earlier.

"Finish getting ready, doll. I'm ready to take this thing for a test drive."

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #Sebastian stan imagines #Sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan fluff #Sebastian stan smut #Sebastian stan angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader

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hualianff · 3 years

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Mi Amor(tentia)

A Window To The Past – John Williams

Harry Potter AU. In his final year at Hogwarts, headboy and Hufflepuff quidditch team captain XL is caught up in a scandal where he performed magic in front of muggles to protect them from dangerous, dark sorcerers who had escaped Azkaban.

After the crucial incident ends with minor injuries to the muggles and XL’s miraculous defeat of all five dark wizards–though only one of them was successfully captured–the ministry expels him from Hogwarts due to his hasty and rash decision to duel without calling for backup, exposing hundreds of muggles to magic. The normalization of advanced technology had led to an alarming spread of awareness of the wizarding world. A messy clean-up indeed.

XL’s family’s name was dragged through the mud, the once appraised pure-blooded lineage honored no more. In addition to being estranged from his parents, XL’s so-called friends left him alone. He also lost a lot of who he was in his early adolescence. Since then, he has learned that even when his intentions are good, the end result isn’t always favorable.

After being expelled, disowned, and alienated from the wizarding world at age eighteen, XL traveled the world completing various bizarre jobs in order to get by and keep busy. Over a decade later, XL chooses to take the base exam equivalent to graduating from a magic school. With this requirement completed, and his years’ worth of experience under his belt, XL is qualified to teach as a professor at a magic school.

XL is lucky that JW, as the new headmaster, decided to hire XL onto the staff, as the new herbology professor. Herbology was always XL’s favorite subject. He’s in the middle of writing a massive index of new species he observed during his twenties!

It’s been so long since XL stepped foot in Hogwarts. Funnily enough, it feels a lot like coming home, a feeling XL hasn’t had in many years. He has a week to re-familiarize himself with the school grounds and meet the other professors before the students are scheduled to arrive for the new year.

One of the tasks XL is assigned as the herbology professor is to supply the potions professor with special plants and ingredients he has access to. The potions professor is named Hua Cheng, an intriguing name if XL says so himself. Though the first two times XL searches HC out to figure out which ingredients were needed most, HC isn’t in the room.

XL ponders if he should put together a basket of goods based on his own memory of which ingredients are popular in potions and see if HC has other suggestions afterward. Instead, XL decides to leave a letter arranging a meet-up time in hopes he can converse with the potions professor in person.

The next day XL enters the potions room, a tall youth stands over a cauldron while glancing down at a thick, opened book. He wears the standard black robes, the emerald green collar symbolizing he is part of Slytherin’s house. His hair is tied up in a high ponytail. XL wonders how a student is allowed to brew potions in the classroom a few days before all the other students return to Hogwarts.

He must be a prefect, or even headboy, to gain this privilege, XL decides.

XL shuffles around a bit until the youth notices his presence.

“Hello! So sorry to interrupt. I’m looking for Hua Lao Shi,” XL greets politely with a nod of his head. The youth merely straightens up. He tilts his head without saying anything. XL figures he must be a bit confused. XL quickly introduces himself, “I’m Xie Lao Shi, your new herbology instructor.”

The Slytherin student blinks. “Nice to meet your acquaintance, Xie Lao Shi. May I ask what the subject of your meeting with Hua Lao Shi entails?”

“Ah, I simply need to discuss the supplies Hua Lao Shi needs for the start of the school year.”

“Oh, that’s very considerate of Xie Lao Shi to ask beforehand. None of the previous herbology professors did so,” the youth comments idly. He steps away from the cauldron, waving his hand over it to temporarily seal the potion. XL’s eyebrows raise, impressed at the casual display of finesse. “But it’s nearly the start of the school year. Am I correct in my assumption that Hua Lao Shi hasn’t made himself readily available for a meeting?”

XL hums good-naturedly. “I’m sure he has his reasons. He must be quite busy these days leading up to classes starting.”

The Slytherin student lifts his hands in a playful shrug, a gesture implying, “As if.” He must be really close to the potions professor to act like this behind his back.

“Do you, by chance, know where Hua Lao Shi is at the moment?” XL asks, approaching the youth.

“Probably in Slytherin’s common room. At the beginning of each year, Hua Lao Shi performs numerous charms to prevent it from being ruined by whatever disastrous activities students engage in throughout the year,” the youth answers. He gathers up a bundle of scrolls to the left of the potions book, walking around the table to stand next to XL. “I can lead Xie Lao Shi to our common room, if he wishes.”

“Yes. That would be wonderful,” XL confirms with a smile. They begin exiting the potions room. “Thank you…?”

“Xie Lao Shi can call me San Lang.”

“San Lang seems very knowledgeable and mature for his age. Am I correct in my assumption that you are headboy?” XL questions, eager to know more about this charming youth who has given him the warmest welcome to Hogwarts yet.

SL lets out a throaty chuckle, eyes briefly closing as he laughs. Next, he sets those dark eyes on XL, shining with mirth. They maintain a steady pace of winding down staircases and corridors that eventually lead down to the dungeons.

“I’m afraid Xie Lao Shi is incorrect in his assumption this time. Headboy does not suit me.”

“Hmm, I beg to differ, based on the conversations I have had with you thus far,” XL disagrees lightly. Without thinking about his next words, XL continues teasingly, “San Lang seems like the perfect character to be in charge and order others around.”

This emits another loud laugh from SL. A hint of satisfaction bubbles in XL’s chest.

When they finally arrive at their destination, SL doesn’t even need to utter a password for the passage to open up. Strange, XL thinks. SL truly must be a figure to be reckoned with.

They enter an empty common room, spotless of any disorganization. Yet, no Hua Lao Shi in sight. XL follows SL who places the scrolls on the largest table in the room, which is already packed with inked parchment.

XL’s eyes flit over the pieces of parchments, belatedly making out class instructions, plans, and assignments written out.

Wait a second…

XL snaps his eyes back to SL, who turns around while pulling out the hair tie. Long, thick waves of raven hair spill over his shoulders; a black eyepatch now covers his right eye.

“Welcome, Xie Lao Shi,” Hua Cheng says knowingly, voice notably deeper. “Shall we start our discussion about the supplies?”

***

Potions professor HC is also the head of Slytherin. He is considered a prodigy who has published five potion manuals that are highly regarded among the wizarding world. HC is very intimidating and direct with his words; strict with his instruction but gives credit where credit is due. And he certainly doesn’t hesitate to take away house points!

He is known to wear an eyepatch but no one knows the reason why.

To put it shortly, many of the students and staff fear him.

Because XL hasn’t kept up with the wizarding world’s gossip, he didn’t know about HC’s reputation, even less about his physical appearance! It took HC revealing his true identity with the eyepatch for XL to recognize he had been talking to the potions professor all along!

***

“How very sly of Hua Lao Shi to masquerade as a student this entire time,” XL says with disbelief. He is incredibly close to dissipating right then and there from the sheer embarrassment of not realizing his mistake. Perhaps the Slytherin common room has a mysterious hole that can swallow him out of sight.

“I apologize if I have offended Xie Lao Shi in any way. However, he is the one who sees me as young enough to be a student. How could I do anything but indulge him?” HC replies, not unkindly.

“Hua Cheng is indeed...shameless,” XL breathes out. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, mind and body telling him to find a place to hide!

He settles for taking a seat at the table.

“Please, continue to call me San Lang,” HC requests gently. He takes a seat next to XL, rolling out a blank piece of parchment to write out the ingredients he’ll need from XL. “‘Hua Cheng’ is too formal.”

The explanation is surely a bit faulty? Why have XL call him ‘San Lang’ when his name is actually ‘Hua Cheng?’ Do the other professors call HC ‘San Lang?’

XL clasps his hands together on the table.

“Very well. I will address you as San Lang, but only when we’re alone,” XL says, determined to remain professional in front of the students.

Wait, that was very suggestive, wasn’t it-?

“When we’re alone, may I call you Gege?” HC adds on, interrupting XL’s internal panic. The younger man pins XL with a curious gaze, staring in a way XL is not used to being stared at. XL clears his throat while looking away.

“I will allow it.”

(Brainchild w/ @no-one-says-hi)

《II》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #HP au #xie lian #hua cheng #first meeting well more like reuniting but #XL has been through a lot #HC has too #hey they are meant to be #I love them so much #THEY WILL DO A LOT OF FLIRTING OKAY #hush I'm proud of the tittle #no I don’t support JKR

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fanfictiondreamscape · 4 years

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Average? Darling...

Request: Hi! I saw requests were open so I was wondering if you’d be ok with doing Headcanons with Undertaker and Sebastian with a s/o who doesn’t really think their pretty? Like they don’t think their ugly or anything, just mundane and average so they just think people are being nice and don’t really mean it when they’re told they look pretty? (Sorry this is long, I wanted to make sure I made sense) thanky and I hope you’re doing well amidst the chaos going on!

Title: Average? Darling...

Genre: fluff, mayyyybe a little bit angsty (yay insecurities!) (emphasis on mayyyybe)

Pairing: Undertaker/Sebastian Michaelis x Fem!reader (separate)

Notes: This made me so happy to see. Literally. Anon, thank you for requesting this!

That said, I totally understand this idea and outlook, and I still struggle with thinking of myself in a way that isn’t seen as absolutely hideous or terribly average. I can only escape that through cosplay, and I absolutely hate taking almost an hour or two putting on makeup just to feel drop-dead gorgeous for thirty minutes.

Anyway, you can ignore that little tirade if you want! I tried to make it as realistic as possible (from my experience), so I hope it lives up to what you like. Otherwise, thank you for saying that - I hope you’re doing well, too! (It didn’t come out trippy this time, yES-)

It is also a female reader default, so I apologize if that isn’t what you expected. It seemed to flow better for me personally, so I just rolled with it.

Below the cut!

Undertaker

surprisingly, out of these two, i find the undertaker would be more inept here

because while both him and sebastian are not human and can barely understand certain human emotions,

one has had more basic observation and interest than the other

that ‘other’ being undertaker

from what i can remember, i can only assume that he would have focused his attention towards his over-the-top plans to screw with the reapers, demons, and angels

but that’s not the whole point right now

to cover how your relationship happened, you would have had to know him for a while

and he probably would have only come to realize that he had feelings for you after he got to know you

so to sum that up: your personality is sexy to him.

that was the first thing that he was attracted to, but your appearance?

that was a bonus

so when you stop and say that you aren’t anywhere near as beautiful as people say, he just tries to get you to admit that you are wrong within a few minutes

“i’m really not as beautiful as they claim, undertaker.”

“dear, that is not a funny ‘joke’.”

“i’m not joking, darling, i’m nowhere near as beautiful as people claim i am.”

he jumps into a tirade

i don’t make the rules, okay? he just does.

and it involves many, many, many instances of your beauty.

your eyes?

they glitter and almost glow in the shadows and light in the most attractive manner.

your hair (or lack thereof)?

simply gorgeous, simply shining - quite beautiful

your figure?

quite fitting for the time, and quite a sight to see when walking.

to him, you are what an angel looks like, and you have the personality of one as well

a total package, if he must say so

but that is about where he would stop.

it doesn’t last long, but it does hold meaning and he refuses to let you believe anything else

but he may only step in and say something when it gets to be too much for you.

those times when your insecurities get the better of you?

he’s already on it, coffin open and ready for you to cuddle with him as he makes grand statements of your beauty

“your beauty truly reaches across centuries, across millenia - a quite haunting beauty if i may say so myself.”

“your eyes perfectly match your complexion, almost glowing against your countenance.”

“and darling, your figure...if i may, i must say that it is truly gorgeous...truly supple. it fits your clothing very well.”

(that last one was a lil bit sensual but hey - it was bound to happen at some point in this)

but every one of these times was very short.

eventually, though, his words started to make sense.

through those short little sessions, they worked somewhat.

i’d like to say that they worked almost immediately

but that is a blatant lie

again, this is undertaker

subtly only matters to him when it is a part of a scheme he has.

so that immediately negates any hint of it becoming extremely common, as that depends on how often you vocalize your thoughts on people’s compliments

but otherwise, they work a little bit.

in a weird way

(again, undertaker.)

but he tries, so make sure that he knows he has made you feel a little better

don’t lie, but don’t hesitate to tell him what you thought of his perspective

he covers it in his own little way, and you both don’t mind it too much. :)

Sebastian Michaelis

okay so

sebastian found you to be meager at first

but that was because you were shielded by a shadow and he only caught a glimpse of your outfit

when he caught you in full light though?

gorgeous.

he had held a distaste to angels, but you were one that he doubted he could stay away from

and because ciel had gotten tired of watching his butler fawn over you as you two worked together, he straight up demanded that he talk to you

and a butler can’t deny his master’s orders, can he?

from there, he grew to love you more

and though he will admit that he fell in love with your appearance at first, your personality was even more beautiful than you

so you can imagine his surprise when you told him that you were only average

he had caught you looking at yourself in the reflection in the glass of a window, and he became intrigued

was this simply a human thing?

possibly a female quirk, though he may have chalked it up to feminine mannerisms

but when you spotted him and he questioned your actions teasingly, you gave him the answer to his question.

“darling, may i ask why you are gazing at yourself?”

*shock*

“um, well - when you or someone else tells me i’m pretty, i don’t believe it.”

for once, pure and unadulterated shock presented itself on his visage

“dear, i must inquire why.”

“well, i’m not...’gorgeous’ as you claim. i’m simply average, nothing more.”

he had decided then and there to treat you as the sparkling darling that he knows and loves

“well, darling, i beg to differ.”

you and him then sat down and just talked.

unlike undertaker, who i feel would try to make his s/o feel gorgeous from the get-go

sebastian would be the type to get the point across over time

he’s observed humans for centuries, so he has the least amount of understanding

human insecurities cannot be mended within minutes, but rather longer

so he did the best that he could to make you feel better about your beauty

after all, he appreciates art in it’s finest form

and you fit into that category

so after reassuring you that you are just as gorgeous as others see you to be

(”your eyes are the most beautiful (e/c) i’ve ever seen.”)

(”your skin is quite glowing, much like you yourself do.”)

(”your body, too, darling - it’s to die for. just perfect.”)

he makes it a goal that you become completely aware of your beautiful

someone just complimented you and you reluctantly accepted it?

“darling, i promise you that you are gorgeous.”

another person just told you your beauty measures to that of madam red?

(don’t blame me, blame google - i tried to find more information, but this is set in the 1880s, not the 1890s, so gibson girls were barely there and were not yet considered the peak of beauty at the time. and after that mess, i went to see what characters were ranked highest and madam red was the highest ranked female on that list, at 14 i think, as the rest were male. due to that, and the fact that she is a doctor that must be fairly well known, she would be known and ogled - cuz lets face it, she is sinister, but she is also gorgeous.)

(sorry about that, let’s continue)

“they aren’t incorrect, my dear. you do truly glow, much like she does, but your’s is more bright.”

anyone compliments your figure when doing measurements and you tell him?

“as i have said, your figure is truly fair and quite admirable.”

sometimes, even when you were resting at either your’s or ciel’s manor, sebastian would make sure to remind you of your higher beauty

before you were to go to bed?

“dear, sleep well. i would say that you may want your beauty sleep, but you don’t need it when you’re already gorgeous.”

reviewing papers?

“your eyes, my darling - quite beautiful. they truly do sparkle.”

simply reading and resting?

“a beautiful brain and a beautiful appearance - my, my, you really are a gem to view, my love.”

you blushed every time, but the more he did what he did and said what he said

you slowly came to realize that you truly are as beautiful as others say you are.

and though you are aware that there are others out there that may be more beautiful

you now know that your beauty is much more prominent than that of the common female

and your realization made sebastian all the more giddy

(well, as giddy as he could get - remember, demon!)

(and again, that little rant earlier, i-)

180 notes · View notes

uenodivision · 3 years

Text

Sakurai Clan Drama Track 1 - So It Goes.

Pt. 3

-- Yuzairu Residence --

[The time was approximately 12:18 P.M. as the sun shined high in the sky in the city of Ueno. It was the weekend, which meant that the town was actively busy as people were either walking or driving to and from their various destinations. Some were middle-aged men and women on their way to walk, despite it being a Saturday afternoon. Others were young teenagers talking about the ins and outs of their lives, be it with school, parents, or whatever else gossip was on their minds at the moment.]

[In one of the suburbs of the Division was the adobe of Kisouna Yuzairu, 1/3 of Ueno Division's rap group, Sakurai Clan. Sitting on her couch in the living room, she had a multitude of papers and folders in front of her. At first glance, one would think that they had something to do with her work, which would be no surprise considering her profession. But that would be an incorrect guess.]

[Actually, these papers all contained information on all the available rap groups that were most likely to take part in the Division Rap Battle Tournament that was to take place in a few short weeks. After being informed a few days ago by Aranai that Chuohku had entered them without their knowledge, Kisouna, in her spare time, had done research on every team and division there were. Luckily, one of the interns at her law firm was a big fan of the D.R.B., so when Kisouna asked, he divulged all information he had on him. Most of what he knew was already common knowledge, but it still helped.]

[The prosecuting attorney was deep in her thoughts, studying one of the papers until the doorbell rung, sending its signal throughout the entire house. Standing up, Kisouna walked to the entrance. Peering through the peephole, she looked as it was the remaining members of the Sakurai Clan: Shisuta and Aranai. Unlocking the lock on her door, she opened it.]

Kisouna: *Nods her head to both of them* Shisuta. Aranai.

Shisuta: *Bows her body with her hands together on her lap* Good day, Kisouna-san.

Aranai: *Holds her left hand up* What up, Boss-Lady?

[Frowning at the nickname her leader gave her, she sighed, shaking her head as she moved slightly to the side, allowing the two women access into her house.]

Aranai: *Walks inside, looking around with a frown* I know that this is part of your shtick and all, but would it kill you to add some life into this place?

Kisouna: *Frowns as she closes the front door, following her friends* F.Y.I., it's called 'minimalist'.

Aranai: *Scoffs* It should be called 'boring'.

Shisuta: *Frowns* Aranai...

Aranai: What? It's true! *Looks back at Kisouna* I don't see how you and your daughter can live with how empty this place is.

Kisouna: *Still frowning* For your information, Yomi actually likes the house like this.

Aranai: *Scoffs again, speaking under her breath* She's just too young to know better.

[Knowing that she had said something, the prosecuting attorney chose not to reply; instead, shaking her head as she made her way back to the living room couch.]

Shisuta: Speaking of which, where is Yomi-chan?

Kisouna: I dropped her off at her friend's house. They were having a birthday party, and she begged me to take her.

Shisuta: Oh. *Slightly upset* I was looking forward to talking and playing with her.

Aranai: Same here. *Scratches the back of her head* She's the only good thing I like about coming to this place.

Kisouna: *Frowns at Aranai* Gee, thanks.

Aranai: *Shrugs* Just telling the truth.

Kisouna: *Sighs and shakes her head* In any case, it's good that you're both here since we can get to work now.

Shisuta: *Looks down at the papers and folders* What are these?

Kisouna: Information on every team that's most likely going to enter the Division Rap Battle.

Shisuta: *Looks up at Kisouna* Every team? *Looks back down at the folders*

Aranai: *Frowns* No offense Boss-Lady, but I highly doubt that all of these teams are going to join.

Kisouna: *Looks seriously at Aranai* We don't know that for sure. Remember who it is that's overseeing this tournament.

[At that, both Aranai and Shisuta frowned as they knew that Chuohku, or more specifically, the Party of Words, were the ones who put all this together.]

Kisouna: Chuohku will use any means necessary to get what they want. *Looks back down at her papers* These teams could have voluntarily joined or could have been extorted into joining, like us.

Shisuta: *Frowns* True.

Aranai: But what would they want with all these teams in their tournament for anyway?

Kisouna: I don't know. The benefits may seem to be for the team that wins the tournament, but we all know Chuohku isn't that generous. Whatever their end game is, it only serves to benefit them in the end.

Shisuta: Wouldn't the safest option be not to win, then?

Aranai: No way! You know what happens to the territories of the teams that lose, right?

Shisuta: *Nods* Yes, they are given to the overall winners of the tournament.

Aranai: Exactly! And I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather not see Ueno in the hands of someone else.

Kisouna: *Nods* Crudely put, but I agree.

Shisuta: *Nods, a serious expression on her face* As do I. *Looks back at Kisouna*

Shisuta: But if what you say is true, and this tournament only helps to benefit Chuohku, then what can we do?

Kisouna: *Sighs, shaking her head* I'm afraid there's not much we can do, Shisuta. As of right now, we, the other teams, the Divisions, even the Hypnosis Microphones, are all just the government's puppets.

Aranai: Puppets?!

Shisuta: *Puts her hand up in a calming manner* It's an expression, Aranai.

Kisouna: As long as Chuohku is holding onto the strings, we can do nothing but move as they want us to. *Looks up at her teammates*

Kisouna: And if any of us even thinks of stepping out of line, they'll bring the entire force of the government down upon us.

[All three women sat in uncomfortable silence as the reality of the situation came upon them. They knew the consequences of what would happen if they lost, or worse, if they refused to acquiesce to Chuohku's wishes. As Kisouna stated, the PoW were the ones holding all the cards, and there was little they any of them could do about it.]

Aranai: *Her head is down, shadows over her eyes* ...I'm sorry.

[At this, both of the other women looked up at their leader, surprised. It was rare for them to hear Aranai apologize for something, and be so serious about it.]

Kisouna: ...Sorry for what?

Aranai: *Still has her head down* For being the reason why we're in this mess, to begin with.

Kisouna: *Confused* What are you talking about, Aranai?

Aranai: You both read the letter, didn't you? The reason we're forced to join this tournament is because of me. *Has her left arm over her chest, holding onto her right arm*

Aranai: If we didn't join, then the government would have used my past as an excuse to put me away. Maybe for good.

Kisouna: Aranai... *Opens her mouth to say more, but doesn't know what to say*

Aranai: *Laughs bitterly* Guess it's true what they say. You can never escape your past no matter how hard you try. I mean... I knew it would catch up with me eventually, but I...

[As the former Bōsōzoku was about to continue her speech, she was shocked as she was suddenly pulled forward into a hug. Glancing upward, Aranai looked as Shisuta had her hand on the back of the leader's head, putting it in the nun's bosom.]

Shisuta: *A gentle smile is on her face* That is enough. No more talking like that.

Aranai: *Still shocked* S-Shisuta...

Shisuta: No one here blames you for this. You've moved on from being the person that you once were. And for Chuohku to try to use that against you is wrong and inexcusable of them.

Aranai: Y-yeah, but...

Shisuta: No buts. *Lifts Aranai's face to look at her* You are not the same as you were yesterday. The fact that you feel sorry and upset about it is proof of that.

Shisuta: *Looks behind at Kisouna on the couch* Don't you agree, Kisouna-san?

Kisouna: Y-yeah. *Clears her throat before speaking*

Kisouna: Shisuta is right, Aranai. Neither of us blames you for this predicament. It was only a matter of time before Chuohku targeted us. If it wasn't you, then it more than likely would have been one of us. If they didn't use your past, then they would have found something else to use instead. *Looks down at all the papers on the table, again*

Kisouna: That just shows how despicable and desperate they are to have everything under their control.

Shisuta: *Nods in agreement* Indeed. *Looks back down at Aranai*

Shisuta: So stop blaming yourself for this. This is Chuohku's doing, not yours.

Aranai: Y-yeah. *Clears her throat as she is released from Shisuta's grasp*

Aranai: Sorry, you guys. *Looks away, hiding the pink on her cheeks* And, t-thank you.

Shisuta: *Smiles* You are welcome.

Kisouna: *Smirks* It's a shame I didn't have my camera on me. A picture of you humbled like that would have been one for my scrapbook.

Aranai: *Scowls at Kisouna* Ha-ha. Laugh it up. Just know: if you tell anyone about this, I'll hurt you.

Kisouna: *Still smirking* Of course.

[At that, all three women stared at one another, before chuckling and finally laughing out loud, their spirits renewed.]

Kisouna: Alright. *Looks at her teammates, a confident look on her face* That's enough small talk. Let's get to work!

Aranai & Shisuta: Right!

[For the next hour, the trio spent their time looking through the various teams and individuals, analyzing their strengths, weaknesses, abilities, and anything else they felt might give them an edge in the tournament.]

Aranai: *Sitting on the floor, looking through a random folder with a frown* Is Chuohku just sending everyone a Hypnosis Microphone? *Puts the folder down on the floor*

Aranai: Some of these teams I've never even heard of before.

Kisouna: *Sitting on her sofa, looking through a different folder* The Party of Words is responsible for the mass development of the Hypnosis Microphones. In a way, you could call them the real power behind Chuohku.

Aranai: *Has a confused look on her face* Yeah, but aren't Hypnosis Microphones dangerous? Why send them out to a bunch of strangers? In fact, why send them out at all? With that kind of power, they could easily take over all of Japan without going through the trouble of having everyone compete in a tournament.

Kisouna: *Puts her folder down* I may be wrong, but I don't think Chuohku's goal is to take over Japan. They already did that when they usurped power during WWIII.

Shisuta: True. *Lays her folder down beside her on the other end of the couch*

Shisuta: After their takeover, they put a ban on all firearms, and instead developed the Hypnosis Microphones as a way to settle disputes. *Sighs, sorrowfully*

Shisuta: Battle is still the same. The only difference is the weapons.

Aranai: *Still has a confused look* Yeah, but why? Why send out the Hypnosis Microphones in the first place? If their goal is to make everyone fear and obey them, wouldn't it be smarter to keep them for themselves?

Aranai: And why go through all the trouble of creating a tournament just to give the winners money and the losers' territory? What does Chuohku get out of it?

[Aranai's questions gave the three women much to think about. Why did Chuohku go to all the trouble of sending out Microphones when they could just use to them exert dominance on everyone? And why create a tournament just to reward the winner? It didn't add up.]

Kisouna: I don't know what Chuohku is up to, but you have to remember, the PoW doesn't do things for no reason. This tournament is probably their way to exert loyalty from the masses and the Divisions.

Aranai: 'Loyalty?' For what? Just because they reward the winners with some cash and some land?

Kisouna: I think by rewarding the winners of the tournament, they are showing their supposed benevolence to everyone in Japan, in hopes of getting the populace on their side.

Shisuta: For what reason, though? As Aranai stated, they could easily dominate anyone who opposes them.

Kisouna: *Shakes her head 'no'* Ruling with fear isn't always the best way to rule if history is anything to go by. Fear leads to anger, which leads to hate. If Chuohku started oppressing the masses, they'd have riots on their hands all throughout Japan.

Aranai: *Shrugs* So? Couldn't they just put them down? Seems like an easy thing to do.

Kisouna: They could, but that'd just lead to more people fearing and hating them. *Shakes her head* Of course, this is all just speculation.

[At that, the three women returned back to work, though their minds were still heavy with the number of questions they were still left with. The room was relatively quiet, as the trio studied and looked through various files and folders.]

Kisouna: *Looking up at Aranai from her folder* By the way Aranai, has Chuohku sent you another letter about the team(s) we'll be facing yet?

Aranai: *Shakes her head 'no'* Nope. And trust me, I've been checking my mailbox and email like crazy for any letter that has a PoW symbol on it.

[A few seconds later, the leader of SC felt a short, but loud 'chime' emanating from her coat pocket, which was a sign that she had just received a new email on her cell phone.]

Aranai: *Rolls her eyes* Probably more junk mail...

[Sighing, the former Bōsōzoku pulled her phone out and looked as the screen on the phone brightened, revealing the email. She frowned as the subject of the email read, 'Untitled'.]

Aranai: *Rolls her eyes again* Knew it.

[Preparing to delete it, the SC leader opened the letter, preparing to hit the 'send to junk' button on her email app. However, she suddenly stopped as she spotted a familiar insignia on the top right corner of the message. Her eyes grew big and wide as she instantly recognized it.]

Aranai: *Looks up at the other two women* Hey guys, *Kisouna and Shisuta look up at her* Guess who just sent me an email about the tournament.

Kisouna: *Her eyes grow wide* Chuohku?

Aranai: *Nods* Yup.

[Walking over to the sofa where the others sat, Aranai placed herself in the middle as Shisuta and Kisouna huddled near her.]

Shisuta: What's it say?

Aranai: Umm... *Scrolls down on her phone to reveal some of the email* ...it's a tournament bracket.

[Flipping her phone horizontally, the trio looked as there was a large-sized bracket filled with numerous teams. Most of them were obviously from different divisions, but some were present right here in the city of Ueno.]

Aranai: I don't recognize half of the teams on this list.

Kisouna: They must be complete unknowns.

[Scrolling down on the phone again, the trio was surprised to see that the email still wasn't done. Just below the bracket, there was a video file. Clicking it with her finger, the file opened on Aranai's phone, revealing the figure of Otome Tohoten sitting behind her desk in the PoW HQ in Chouhku, with her hands locked together as she was staring at the camera.]

Aranai: *Looks at her teammates* Do we have to play it? I really don't feel like listening to this woman any more than I have to.

Kisouna: *Scowls* Neither do I, but if she has something important to say about the tournament, then we have no choice.

[Groaning, the former Bōsōzoku reluctantly pressed the big blue 'play' button on the video, starting it up as the Prime Minister began speaking.]

Otome: Salutations. If you are viewing this video, then you are either a team or Division leader, and have successfully filled out you and your team’s registration for the Division Rap Battle Tournament. And for that, allow me to say, ‘congratulations.’

Aranai: She sure loves to hear herself talk, doesn’t she?

Kisouna: Shh!

Otome: As you can all see by the bracket, which I hoped you viewed before playing this video, these are the teams that will be participating in the Division Rap Battle Tournament, which I am pleased to announce as of right now has officially begun.

[At this, all three women’s eyes grew large and wide.]

Aranai: *Shocked* What?! I thought the tournament was supposed to start in a few weeks!

Otome: I imagine that many of you are feeling shocked and/or upset at this news. And for that, I apologize. *A grin then appears on her face*

Otome: However, I felt a few more weeks of waiting would be too long for you and the people of Japan to wait for the tournament. Thus, I felt that having it begin right away would be more beneficial for everyone.

Aranai: *Growls* That bitch!

Shisuta: *Frowns* Aranai!

Aranai: *Frowns back* Sorry, but...

Kisouna: Shh! Quiet, she's still talking!

Otome: *The grin is gone from her face* In each division, there are four teams in total. These teams will compete against one another in the qualifying rounds. The last team remaining will be the official team selected to represent their division, and will move on to the semi-finals, which will be held a week later.

[After finishing her sentence, a small square-like screen appeared beside the Chairwoman, which showed a large dome, which was obviously a coliseum.]

Otome: On the last day of the tournament, the Division teams will proceed to the special Coliseum, here in the heart of Chuohku, where they will compete against one another to determine the overall winner(s) of the tournament. The winning team will not only be awarded 100,000,000 yen for each member but will also receive the territory of the defeated divisions, as well as the prestige that comes with being the winners.

Aranai: *Scoffs* Yeah, a lot of good that does us...

Otome: You will all soon receive a schedule, detailing when and where your battles will take place. *Her grin returns* I wish you all the best of luck. I, as well as the whole of Japan, are looking forward to a good tournament. Do not disappoint us.

[With that final threat, the image of the Chairwoman vanished and was replaced with the familiar insignia of the Party of Words, as the video soon ended. As it did, all in the room was relatively quiet, save the hissing from the air vent which blew out cool air into the room.]

Aranai: ...Well... *She sighs* ...shit.

Shisuta: *Frowns again* Aranai...

Aranai: *Frowns back* Shisuta, please... don't start.

Kisouna: Indeed. *Sighs* I hate to say it, but I agree with our leader's choice of words, vulgar though they may be. *Lets her head fall back, hitting the couch as she places her right hand on her forehead*

Kisouna: This turn of events does not bode well for us.

Aranai: Well, no kidding! Now we have less time to prepare than we did before!

Shisuta: Indeed.

Kisouna: It's our own fault. We should have expected this sort of thing from Chuohku. It's not out of sort for them.

Aranai: Yeah, but still! They could have at least gave us some heads-up! Why the hell did...

[In the middle of her rant, the Sakurai leader felt her phone vibrate and beep in her pocket for the second time today. Growling, she briskly pulled it out of her pocket and looked as a notification appeared on her home screen signaling that she had received another email. Like the previous one, the title of it read, 'Untitled'.]

Aranai: *Sarcastically* Gee, now who could this be from, I wonder...

[Touching it, the email app reappeared on the screen, the email showing up. Like the previous one, a familiar insignia was shown on the upper right part of the email: the Party of Words.]

Kisouna: Chuohku?

Aranai: *Nods* Hmm.

Shisuta: You certainly have to admire their diligence. When they say they will do something, they do it.

Kisouna: Indeed. *Looks at Aranai* So, what's it say?

Aranai: *Looking at her phone* ...It's our match schedule. Apparently, our first match is the day after tomorrow at 8 P.M.

Shisuta: Who are we facing?

Aranai: Some unknown group called Ueno's Crusaders.

Six days later...

-- The Art of Law, Ueno Division --

[It was early evening as a groan escaped Kisouna Yuzairu's mouth as sat in her office, rubbing her eyes in a circular motion, trying to wake herself up. With the announcement that the Division Rap Battle had begun almost a week ago by the Chairwoman, the city of Ueno was in an uproar over it.]

[Four days ago, the team of Sakurai Clan had scored a decisive victory over the team of Ueno's Crusaders. In fact to call it a 'victory' would be a complete and gross understatement. The team of SC had completely trounced the other team in a matter of minutes. Even without the judges' announcement, it was clear to everyone that SC were the winners.]

[With their victory over the Crusaders, Sakurai Clan now had one final hurdle to pass: the team of the Benten Shōguns, who also had a victory under their belt after defeating their opponents. Whichever team won would be the team to represent the Ueno Division.]

Kisouna: *A tired, but determined look is on her face* We have to win this battle tonight.

[In an effort to make sure that their team was prepared not only for the qualifiers but also for the tournament itself, Kisouna had been pushing the team nonstop. If they weren't studying up their opponents, ascertaining their strengths and weaknesses, they were practicing their hearts and souls out. Though she knew it was for the good of the team and for Ueno, the prosecuting attorney personally could not wait for this whole mess to be over with. Between her work, the tournament, and taking care of her daughter, it was a wonder she wasn't dead on her feet.]

Kisouna: *Sighs, rubbing her eyes* When this tournament is over, I'm taking Yomi with me on a nice, long vacation...

-- Ueno Park --

[The time was five minutes to 8 P.M. in Ueno Park. Despite it being evening time, the park was still open to all. In fact, evening time was really when the park started to get busy. The majestic scene of the cherry blossom trees blowing their beautiful flower petals in the air, created a very tranquil and beautiful picture, like something out of a work of art. It was no wonder that this was Japan's most popular park, and the site for many of its festivals.]

[As stated, normally the park still had throngs of people walking amongst the pavement despite the time of day. But with news of the Division Rap Battle taking place, it seemed as if almost all of Ueno City was present here, even though it was just the qualifying rounds. However, tonight's round would be the deciding factor. Which of the two teams would be the one to go on to Chuohku to represent Ueno Division in the tournament: the Benten Shōguns, or the Sakurai Clan?]

[With the time for battle swiftly approaching, both groups stepped onto the stage, with cheers, shouts, and applause from the crowd. Both teams were staring at one another, knowing full well what was at stake. Kisouna appeared focused, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see her daughter, Yomi, sitting on the shoulder of Aranai's friend, Kaba. The young girl was smiling and waving at her mother, who discreetly smiled and waved back, though her attention went right back to the matter at hand.]

[Shisuta had her eyes closed, but was subtly moving her lips. Both Aranai and Kisouna knew she was most likely praying, as she always did. Lastly, Aranai tried to ignore the beating of her heart, which seemed to be all she could hear at the moment until the moment that the announcer stepped onto the stage between the two teams. It was a female, wearing the traditional uniform of the Party of Words, which was no real surprise since this tournament was being held and funded by them. Everyone in attendance quieted down as their attention was now focused on her.]

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! This is the qualifying round to determine Ueno Division's representatives for the D.R.B.! Which of these two teams will emerge victorious and go on to Chuohku to represent Ueno City?

Announcer: Will it be... *Points to the shōguns* ...the team of the Benten Shōguns? *Moderate shouts and cheers*

Announcer: Or... *Points to the Sakurai Clan* ...the team of the Sakurai Clan? *Loud shouts and cheers*

Announcer: Since the Shōguns won the coin toss, they get to go first!

Aranai: *Frowns at the announcer* I still say that toss was rigged...

Announcer: So without further ado, let the battle begin!

[Moving off stage, the SC looked as Shōguns began their song, which, admittingly, was well-done, as most of the crowd was rather engrossed in it.]

Aranai: *Looks back at her teammates* I hate to admit it, but these guys are actually pretty good.

Shisuta: *Nods* Indeed. They have really good unison.

Kisouna: Well, it'd be disappointing if they were a lackluster team after making it to the finals.

Aranai: We need a good song if we want to pull this off. Any ideas?

Shisuta: Hmm... oh! What about that song we've been practicing these few days?

Kisouna: *Looks skeptical* Are you sure? We still haven't exactly put the finishing touches on it.

Aranai: No better time than the present. Besides, we've got no choice. We're up next.

[As the Shōguns' song finished, it was met with cheers and applause from the audience as they proceeded off stage.]

Announcer: A spectacular performance from the Benten Shōguns! The Sakurai Clan will have to pull off all the stops in order to win! And now without further ado, the Sakurai Clan!

[Stepping back on stage, the group was again met with cheers as they stood in front of the audience on the stage.]

Aranai: *Looks back at her teammates* You guys ready for this?

Shisuta: *Nods, cheerfully* Hai!

Kisouna: *Nods* Let's do it.

Aranai: Right!

Bring the Beat!

[Sakurai Clan:]

Listen to my song, grasp this crazy game We’re going to protect our space Everyone look, it’s not bad to see my face Kicking my rap is just like this!

Listen to my song, grasp this crazy game You should stop before you get burnt You’ll never forget once you hear my phrase Kicking my rap is just like this!

Just like this… Just like this…

[Aranai:]

Yes, yes, y’all Hey yo! Do you remember me? It's Ride or Die, the master emcee I'm not afraid of a backroom brawl Mess with me, you best be ready to play ball! Have I lost some fights? Sadly yes, I'll admit But never once did I yell, 'I quit!' And I never will cause that's not who I am! Even if the odds are stacked, I'll still play my hand!

[Kisouna:]

'He who wishes to fight must first count the cost' That doesn't apply to me. In the end, it's your loss! Many people go to war, and then seek to win But I do just the opposite, again and again My win/loss ratio speaks for itself Because everything that's not positive, I quickly expel! Cause trouble in Ueno, you won't escape punishment A new sheriff is in town, and her name is Verdict!

[Shisuta:]

Blessed and highly favored, that's all I need to be In the splendor of God's glory, I have the victory! Ueno City's my home, and thus, has my heart As long as we stay strong, we won't be torn apart! A fool once stated, 'love gets in the way' But I wholely believe that love paves the way That's why, as The Saint, no matter the pain I will never have a reason to complain (Plain, Plain, Plain...)

[Sakurai Clan:]

Listen to my song, grasp this crazy game Listen to my song, grasp this- game Listen to my song… Listen to my song… Listen to my song…

Listen to my song, grasp this crazy game We’re going to protect our space Everyone look, it’s not bad to see my face Kicking my rap is just like this!

Listen to my song, grasp this crazy game You should stop before you get burnt You’ll never forget once you hear my phrase Kicking my rap is just like this!

Listen to my song, grasp this crazy game We’re going to protect our space Everyone look, it’s not bad to see my face Kicking my rap is just like this!

Listen to my song, grasp this crazy game You should stop before you get burnt This is Sakurai Clan's funky sounds Kicking my rap is just like this!

[As the final beat to the song ended, the entirety of Ueno Park was filled with cheers and screams as the song ended, with the majority of them cheering for the second group who just finished.]

Crowd: Sakurai! Sakurai! Sakurai!

[The cheers ceased to stop even as the announcer stepped back on stage.]

Announcer: Well ladies and gentlemen, it seems clear by the shouts and cheers that we have our winning team! So with that being said, it gives me great honor to introduce to you the winners of the match, and the Ueno Division's representatives for the D.R.B., the Sakurai Clan!

[A light shined down from the stage as the rap group was illuminated in light, which seemed to fit as the crowd continued cheering and shouting for them. The three women stood on stage, smiles on their faces, proud of their accomplishment. Shaking heads with the opposing team, the group was quickly overwhelmed by the cheers of the crowd, as many yelled for an encore of their song.]

Aranai: *Looks back at her teammates* Something tells me this is going to be a long night...

Kisouna: *Sighs* Unfortunately.

Shisuta: *Smiles* Well, that's popularity.

Aranai: True that. *Takes her microphone back out of her coat pocket* What do you say, girls? Got room for one more song?

Kisouna: *Sighs again, but nods* Why not? Doesn't seem I'll be getting Yomi to bed anytime soon, anyway.

Shisuta: *Nods* I'm in!

Aranai: Then let's do it... again!

Shisuta & Kisouna: Right!

[With that, the city park was filled with cheers as the group continued their song. And the night sky filled with stars as it signaled just another day in the great city of Ueno...]

To be continued...

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #drama track #aranai norikoru #shisuta heisha #kisouna yuzairu #ueno division #sakurai clan #so it goes

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oh-boy-me · 4 years

Note

Idk if you’ve ever talked about it before, but how does Mammon speak in Japanese? In the translation, he speaks kinda rough and casual (maybe a bit of a southern USA flair? he uses y’all once or twice iirc) Does he have a particular accent or dialect in the OG text?

Oh, Mammon might be hard to break down, but I’ll see what I can do!

So I don’t think Mammon has any particular accent, per se? I think he’s just very informal.

From what I’ve noticed, Mammon’s speech is characterized by informal phrasing and some phonetic changes. I don’t think it goes into any actual ヤンキー (”delinquent youth”) territory, but I might be wrong as I don’t have any experience with that subculture. Regardless, it’s pretty rough, and very informal.

The following example sentences all come from the phone call where he cancels your plans (I think it’s intimacy 25?), his home screen dialogue, and the current Halloween event.

And this time more than any before, Japanese is not my first language and I have never lived in Japan, so if you find anything incorrect about the content below, please let me know so I can fix it.

---Informal Phrasing---

Japanese has lot of different ways to say the same thing with varying levels of politeness. Mammon tends to use (one of) the most direct ways of saying things.

It’s important to remember though that a lot of these “direct” things are characteristic of male speech in general, and I won’t go over those. Mammon says やつ (guy, basically) to refer to others sometimes, but so does Lucifer. Likewise, it’d be weirder if he didn’t use the dictionary verb form most of the time. There might be some that I describe even though they aren’t particularly unique to Mammon, because I’m not an expert on masc-coded Japanese.

悪い！！ (warui)

(Phone call) This literally means “bad,” but in this context it’s “my bad” or “sorry.” It’s a rough way to say it, rougher than ごめん (gomen), which I know Levi says off the top of my head, and すまない (sumanai), which I know Lucifer says.

If you need to apologize in Japanese, I think it’s best to stick to すみません (sumimasen) or ごめなさい (gomenasai) to avoid accidentally coming off as too rude or too stiff.

許せ！！ (yuruse)

(Phone call) This means “forgive me,” but like. As a command. A pretty demanding one at that. An example you’ve probably heard is when a man yells やめろ (yamero) to make someone stop what they’re doing.

その時は何があっても予定を空けろよ！ (sono ji wa nani ga attemo yotei wo akero yo)

(Phone call) Here’s the imperative again. 空けろ (akero) is the command form of 空ける (akeru), which here means to clear your schedule (予定 is schedule). The よ (yo) at the end softens the command a little. The sentence means “At that time, no matter what you’ve got going on, clear your schedule!”

A softer way to say it would be 空けて (akete), and even softer would be 空けてください (akete kudasai). I’m pretty sure Mammon isn’t the only character to use the imperative like this, but he’s certainly uses it a lot.

館中の掃除を言いつけてきやがって…… (yakatachuu no souji wo ii tsuketeki yagatte)

(Phone call) You can tag やがる (yagaru) onto a verb to show your contempt for someone’s actions. You hate that they did something. Like most of these, it’s pretty harsh. The sentence means “He had the nerve to order me to clean the house,” but with the strength of やがって, “He fucking ordered me to” might be closer in attitude.

近いうちにまた誘ってやるから (chikaiuchi ni mata sasotte yaru kara)

(Phone call) If you read the Levi post, you might remember that やる (yaru) is a more colloquial way to say “to do” than する (suru). It’s also a more colloquial way to say あげる (ageru), “to give.” It used to imply that the recipient was on equal or lower standing with you, but I don’t think that’s really the case anymore except for how it’s not really a polite phrasing. Attached to a verb, both あげる and やる imply a favor is being done. This means “I’ll invite you out again soon before long, so”

---Phonetic Shift---

In general, the most common phoneme shifts in Mammon’s lines are cutting the middle and monophthongization. Cutting the middle is a term I’m making up for the sake of this post and is exactly what it sounds like: lengthening the first syllable in place of the next ones. Monophthongization is when a vowel made of two sounds (diphthong) is pronounced as one sound (monophthong). In the case of rough Japanese that we’re working with, that usually means <ai> and <oi> turning into <ee>.

そのなんつーか…… (Sono nan tsuuka......)

(Phone call) つーか (tsuuka) is short for というか (to iu ka). You can see how “to iu” assimilates to “tsuu,” especially if you say というか a few times fast. なんつーか/何というか means “How should I put it?”

だぁっ！わーったよ！！ (Da-! waatta yo)

(A Devildom Halloween, 1-3) わーった (waatta) is from わかった (wakatta), which means “I get it.”

そりゃ傑作だぜ！ (sorya kessaku daze)

(A Devildom Halloween, 2-16) そりゃ (sorya) is a shortened それは (sore wa), “that is.” Also, I’m not sure where else to put this, but ぜ (ze) is a very strong assertive particle that I don’t think many people actually use anymore irl. The line is “That’s a great joke!”

すっげースピードで鞭とんでくるんだけど！ (suggee supiido de muchi tondekurun dakedo)

(Phone call) Here we start the examples of monophthongization, which is probably the worst word you’ve had to read in a while but I promise is the easiest phonetic concept to understand here.

すっげー (suggee) comes from すっごい (suggoi), which means either amazing or terrible, depending on the context. Like I said before, <oi> often simplifies to <ee> (the second “e” is written either ー or え). The line means “The whip’s gonna come down real fast.” すっげー is emphasizing the speed.

By the way, やばい (yabai) also means amazing or terrible, based on context, and can be changed to やべー (yabee) in the same way. Mammon’s said that before too, but I don’t think it’s in my example pool.

あー…金降ってこねえかなー (Aa... kane futte konee kanaa)

(Home screen) This time, the negative こない (konai) turns into こねえ (konee), with the same <ai> --> <ee> shift. This time, it got written as ねえ instead of ねー. This is his “wish it’d rain money” line, and the translation is basically the same.

うるせぇ…… (urusee)

(A Devildom Halloween, 2-13) うるせぇ is from うるさい (urusai), which means “shut up.” This time the second え is the smaller ぇ!

おっせえよ。俺を待たすんじゃねえ (ossee yo. ore wo matasunjanee)

(Home screen) We’ve got two here, with 遅い (osoi), late, turning into おっせえ (ossee), and 待たすな (matasu na) becoming 待たすんじゃねえ (matasunjanee). Putting んじゃない where a な would normally be makes it a rough-sounding command. And then the ない turned into ねえ like tends to happen with Mammon.

The line is “You’re late. Don’t keep me waiting.”

気安くさわんな！ (kiyasuku sawanna)

(Home screen, UR+ animation) This could possibly be in the first section too, idk, but. The general way to say “don’t touch me” is 触らないで (sawaranaide), and a more casual way to say it is 触るな (sawaru na). Mammon takes it a step further, and drops the る to say さわんな (sawanna). Levi uses the 触るな style, so I assume Mammon’s style is pretty noticeably informal.

他人の為に何か買ってヤンなきゃならねぇんだ！ (tanin no tame ni nanka katte yannakya naraneenda)

(A Devildom Halloween, 2-13) やらなきゃならない (yaranakya naranai), is already a pretty casual way to say “have to.” Mammon’s version uses the same んな as the last line, turning やらなきゃ into ヤンなきゃ (yannakya). Also notice the switch from hiragana to katakana, which is often used to convey the conversational tone. And then ない once again becomes ねぇ! The line is “Why do I have to buy something for someone else?!”

And last but not least... そうだ、殿下。　言い忘れてた (souda, denka. ii wasureteta)

(A Devildom Halloween, 2-23) This line means, “that’s right, your highness. We forgot to say.” Why is this one last? Mammon says this line to Diavolo. From what I’ve seen it’s about the same level of politeness that Lucifer uses when talking to Diavolo.

It’s worth noting though that Lucifer and Mammon both speak casually to Diavolo.

So this isn’t organized at all, but I hope this gave you an idea of how Mammon’s idiolect ended up giving him a distinct one in the localization!

This is always a hot topic with Mammon’s portrayal as a POC character, so I need to say that I don’t know enough about Japanese subculture and language codes to say anything for sure about whether this makes him sound “uneducated.” Impolite, definitely, but “uneducated,” I don’t know. Regardless, the connotation definitely exists in how he’s written in English. And with that I’d like to remind everyone that your idiolect says nothing about your intelligence. Don’t judge a person’s worth by how many big words they use.

#obey me #obey me translation #obey me mammon

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drawlfoy · 5 years

Text

Joint Custody

masterlist request guidelines i’m technically on hiatus until oct 15 but if i really like your request i’ll take it

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

request: oh yes, from maybe late july? i’m sorry for getting back so late to this one

summary: your pet snake is a snake in more ways than one...for example, befriending the most obnoxious boy in your year.

warnings: language, snakes (so if that’s a fear i don’t recommend this)

a/n: ohhh gee it’s been a while hasn’t it? i’m working on my ucas rn, and as an american with literally no one in my area who knows anything about it, i’d be happy to get tips from anyone who knows about oxford ppe. i hope you guys enjoy! i’m taking a little break from mirror, mirror rn since i have no idea what to do w that. also i have never owned a snake so i apologize if i say something incorrect about the care of y/n’s snake

word count: 3,692

tags tags tags @accio-rogers @geeksareunqiue

music recs: i listened to random music so idl

Y/N dug through her knapsack, her fingers brushing past everything but the scales she wanted to feel.

“Monty? Monty? Where are you??” she whispered, flinging her bag onto the potion table and opening it so the light illuminated the insides. Her worst suspicion was confirmed: her magically shrunk corn snake was completely gone.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” her friend Luna Lovegood asked from the opposite side of the table, her eyebrows scrunched in concern. “Are you missing something?”

“Er...” She took one final sweep of her pockets and her bag before sighing in defeat. “Yeah. Monty is gone again, but this time he isn’t listening to me.”

“Off to snack on nargles, I presume,” Luna said, a smile drifting across her face. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you. He wouldn’t put himself in danger and he’ll always come back to you.”

“Thanks, Luna.”

“Of course.”

With that, her Ravenclaw friend turned and left for her next period, leaving Y/N to deal with the situation alone. She weighed her options: she could, technically, just summon her snake, but then she’d risk smacking him into a wall and injuring him. She could also ask Snape for his help, but one look at the greasy professor confirmed that, as always, he wasn’t in the mood to make the life of a Hufflepuff any easier.

Y/N scanned the room, noting that there was no yellow snake on the floor of the dungeons. He really could move fast when he wanted to.

“Who’s this?”

A familiar voice caught her attention behind her...no doubt originating from the Slytherin section. Against her better judgement, Y/N turned around to see Draco Malfoy staring down at his hands with a wonder she had never seen in his eyes before. Further examination made the cause clear: Monty was curled around his fingers, hissing contently.

“Hey!” Y/N said, catching his attention. “That’s my snake!”

Malfoy’s head shot up, his eyes filling with realization as he connected the yellow and orange colors of the pet to Y/N. “Oh? It seems as though he chose to come over here on his own accord. Probably got sick of being a house traitor, isn’t that right?”

To Y/N’s horror, Monty seemed to agree with the sentiment, slithering up his arm.

“That’s my snake, Malfoy, give him here,” she snapped, holding her hand out. he raised an eyebrow, running a finger down Monty’s scales.

“Don’t do that! Snakes don’t like to be pet!” Y/N was positively fuming as she saw how her pet didn’t even react badly to the physical contact--even though he was supposed to.

“That’s interesting,” Malfoy mused. “He doesn’t seem to mind it when I do it.”

“If you don’t give him back now, I’m going to kill you in your sleep,” Y/N said, whipping out her wand and pointing it at him to emphasize her point. Amusement flickered across his face.

“Okay, okay, you can have him back,” he said, gently unwrapping the snake from his arm and placing it back into her hand. His thumb brushed her palm in the process, and she was surprised to feel how warm it was. “Just remember that if you’re ever sick of hufflepuffs, I’m always here.”

He directed the last part at her snake, affection creeping into the edges of his tone. Once he seemed satisfied that Monty understood, he turned around without another word, grabbed his things, and left Y/N to stand in shock.

Draco Malfoy likes my snake?

The unthinkable happened the next Saturday night. Y/N was getting ready to go spend a nice study session in the library with her roommates and went to grab Monty from his perch, only to find that he was simply...gone.

“Monty! Monty!!”

While she wasn’t a parselmouth, she knew for damn sure that the snake knew she was looking for him.

“Monty, I’m going to put you in a cage if you keep doing this to me,” she scolded, sifting through her room to try and locate her pet. He was, unfortunately, nowhere to be found.

A very scary realization crept into her mind as she worked. Y/N hadn’t seen Monty since dinner...and there was no way that she could be sure that he was even in her room to begin with.

Oh, Merlin, I’m the worst snake owner in the history of snake owners. I didn’t even realize that he was gone...

Once she was sure that her room was snake-free, she burst out of the dorms and into the common room, where she asked everyone if they had seen Monty. There was a unanimous and concerning no from her housemates, only serving to raise her stress levels.

“Retrace your steps?” a particularly worried 7th year proposed. “Monty couldn’t have gone far...and plus, you both get along so well. There’s no way that he’d just leave you like that.”

Y/N nodded and burst out of the door, running down the corridor the way she had just come from and yelling her snake’s name.

She reached the dining hall entrance in record time, panting as she placed her hand on her knees and breathed. She really should’ve just gotten an owl or a cat like everyone else.

A flash of blonde caught her eye, and she turned to see a rather amused looking Malfoy leaned up against the wall opposite to the door.

“Looking for something?”

“You git! Where is he?” Y/N pointed her wand at him and clenched her other first, trying to regulate her breathing.

“I had a feeling you’d come back,” Malfoy said lazily, kicking off of the wall and striding closer to her. “For the record, it wasn’t my fault. Your snake must’ve gotten into my pocket during dinner.”

“He got from the Hufflepuff table to the--”

“Slytherin table? Yeah, I know, I was impressed too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a hand with a yellow snake curled around long, elegant fingers. “It seems like he has a preference.”

“I hate you,” she muttered, offering her hand to Monty and inwardly rejoicing when he chose to slither onto her.

“Okay,” he responded, seemingly unbothered. “Are you at least going to thank me for taking care of him?”

Y/N studied him for a second. “No. Putting him in your pocket and waiting for me to find you doesn’t count as taking care of him.”

He snorted, stuffing his hands in his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I can see why he likes to get away from you every once and a while. How did you even get into Hufflepuff?”

“What are you talking about?” she increduled (i don’t think that’s a word but whatever).

“I’ve only spoken directly to you twice, and both times you’ve managed to offend me,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine how your roommates deal with you.”

“They start by being tolerable people,” Y/N spat, slipping the hand that held Monty into her pocket, “Something that you ought to consider.”

“Ooooh.” He mimed twisting a knife in his heart. “You got me there. Touché.”

“I’m going to see my friends,” she said, glaring at him. “Please come directly to me if Monty ever bothers you again.” She began walking back down the hall, taking extra care to make the ride comfortable for Monty.

“Wait,” he called after her, causing her to stop in her tracks. “He really doesn’t bother me.”

She spun around to face him. “So?”

“Er...” Malfoy scratched the back of his neck. “Look, clearly he likes both of us, and I have a feeling this is going to happen again, so... do you want to just split the time with him?”

“Split the time with my own pet?”

“I actually really like him,” he confessed. “And it’d probably save you the stress of having to deal with constantly losing him...I know that snakes sometimes get bored with just one owner.”

“How do you know that?” Y/N asked.

“Er,,,” He stumbled over his words. “Just...perks of being a Slytherin, I guess. Nothing to think too deeply about.”

Y/N huffed, thinking over the proposal. No matter how much it pained her, it appeared as though her snake actually did enjoy Malfoy’s company.

“Okay. Fine. You have to learn how to take care of him, though.”

“No problem,” he said quickly. “Can I have him tonight?”

“What, need him for a ritual or something? Is it time sensitive?”

He laughed. “No. If I needed a snake, I could just serpensortia my way out of that issue.”

“Fair enough.” She paused before sticking her hand in her pocket again. “I need to go get his food and perch, then. I’ll be back in a moment, okay? You can hold onto him if you’d like.”

Draco seemed to visibly brighten at this remark, nodding and holding his hand out. Y/N tried not to take note of how immaculate his hands were as she allowed Monty to slither back onto his palm.

<^>

Y/N gathered her items quickly, ignoring the glances from her confused roommates.

“I’ll explain later,” she promised, darting out the door before they could ask any further questions.

When she showed up at the meeting place, she was relieved to see a bored looking Malfoy cooing to the snake twisted around his hand. He blushed a deep red when he saw that she heard him.

“Took you long enough,” he drawled.

“I’ve never heard you sound like that,” she said, chuckling instead of acknowledging his previous rude comment.

“Sound like what?”

“You? Cooing to Monty?”

“You’re going batty.” He scowled, putting his hand intertwined with Monty into his pocket.

“Sure. I’m guessing you want to go to the Slytherin dorms?”

“Congratulations on your deductive reasoning,” said Malfoy, rolling his eyes and starting off at a brisk pace. “Try and keep up, will you?”

<^>

On the way, they spoke about official terms: each would get the snake for two full days, and they would meet outside the Great Hall to transfer the equipment. Malfoy was adamant that they not tell anyone about the deal--something about how his parents would die if they knew he was sharing a pet with a Hufflepuff. Y/N was adamant that he finance the portion of food that he was using, which he initially protested to but eventually gave in.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Malfoy began once they stopped in front of the Slytherin common room entrance, “But thank you. For being open-minded. I know we aren’t on the best of terms...”

“No, this is most certainly not good-bye,” Y/N interrupted. “You need me to show you how to set up the perch in your room. And, of course, I need to demonstrate how to feed him. He’s very picky.”

Malfoy swallowed, his hand pausing before the bricks that obscured the entrance.

“Okay. All of the older Slytherins are out at Hogsmeade right now, so I can probably sneak you in.”

“Isn’t Hogsmeade closed to students after 5?” Y/N questioned.

“Yeah. We have our ways.”

With that, Draco muttered the password that she couldn’t quite catch and pushed open the door that appeared.

“Be quiet, though,” he cautioned.

They entered the Slytherin common room. and Y/N was blown back by a gust of damp, heavy air. It smelled like the inside of an expensive, appointment-only store.

“This is kind of cold and unfeeling,” she told him as they neared the entrance to the boy’s dorms. Malfoy looked like he was going to snap at her to be quiet, but something made him freeze.

“Shit. The wards.”

Realization flowed into Y/N. “Oh...oh, how could I have forgotten...”

“Can you just show me how to set it up here?” He asked, nervously passing his hands through his hair.

“No, no, I can’t,” she said. “I wish, but I need to see the layout of your room...there are specific requirements as to where the perch can be placed...”

Malfoy mulled over this for a few moments before letting out a long sigh. “I can’t levitate you past the wards. I have to carry you across.”

Y/N paled, even though she knew that that was the only possible way to make it happen. “Okay. I’ll leave the stuff on the ground. You help me over and then bring the perch and food.”

She set her things down and awkwardly stepped closer to him. Malfoy seemed just as uncomfortable as he held out his arms.

“Turn around and loop your legs over my right arm...like that...”

Before she knew it, she was scooped up off the floor and on the other side of the wards, the expensive silk of Malfoy’s suit pressed up against her cheek. She was surprised, yet again, at just how warm he was compared to his usual cool demeanor.

Malfoy set her down on the ground, and grabbed the box of snake supplies. “Last door on the right.”

<^>

“So you scored a single, huh?”

Malfoy’s room was made up of just a one large bed instead of the standard three that she saw in Hufflepuff dorms, and she couldn’t say that she was surprised. The Malfoys had the connections to get these sorts of things.

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly. “Anyways, show me what to do. Monty is getting antsy.”

Y/N made quick work of unpacking the perch and locating an appropriate corner to place it. Showing Malfoy how to feed the snake was easy, and before she knew it, they were done.

“Enjoy Monty,” she said as they made their way to the ward again. “Let me know if anything weird happens or if you have any questions.”

Malfoy simply nodded and opened his arms again, signaling that he had to pick her up to let her out. She obliged, turning around and looping her legs over his arm, allowing herself to be scooped off of the ground. It was strange, really, getting moved so gently by someone who she thought, until recently, wouldn’t spit on her if she was burning to death. They were just over the ward when the common room entrance opened and the sounds of many Slytherin teenagers--albeit drunk Slytherin teenagers--filled the room. Malfoy’s face turned sheet white and he spun around, striding back towards his room.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Put me down!”

He didn’t answer her until they were safely inside the room, the door locked tight.

“They’re normally not back until midnight,” he said, his tone rushed. “It’s hardly 10:30...I don’t know what they’re doing here...”

“That’s okay, we can just wait until they all go to bed,” Y/N told him, placing a hand on his arm. “No worries.”

“Er, yes worries,” he corrected, moving further away from her. “Saturday all-nighters are very common here...you aren’t leaving this room until morning.”

“Are you joking?”

“I wish.” His eyes nervously darted around the room as he wrung his hands. “There’s nothing we can do right now, unless you know a very strong disillutionment spell...which I suspect neither of us do. They’ll be out in the common room for a while, and honestly, I should probably join them.”

“You’re just gonna leave me here?”

Malfoy seemed rather conflicted, but he screwed his eyes shut and exhaled sharply. “Yes. I said I would meet them afterwards. This way you can sleep, too. I won’t be here.”

“Are you sure I’m not intruding?”

He let out a shaky laugh. “No, you are, but it’s not your fault. Just stay here and don’t let anyone in unless it’s me, alright?”

“Alright.”

He got up and made to leave. “Oh, and, Malfoy?”

He turned to face her. “What is it now?”

“I don’t want to sleep in my school uniform,” she told him, her face darkened by a blush. “Do you have anything that I can borrow? Just a shirt or something?”

She could see his jaw clench before he ducked his head down and walked over to his dresser, tossing him the first shirt on top.

He was out the door before she could properly thank him.

<^>

Y/N took a long time to fall asleep, but when she finally drifted off, she was out like a light. Malfoy’s bedding was heavy and smelled like green tea and ink, something that she wasn’t expecting but most certainly appreciated.

So, when Y/N jerked awake just a few hours later, she was a little frustrated.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, wake up.”

She opened her eyes to see Malfoy standing over her, holding a candle and looking very tired. “What is it?”

“They’re gone. You can leave now.”

She groaned, turning over and searching for her clock--only to find that it wasn’t there, as this wasn’t her room. “What time is it?”

“3:20. Now are you going to get up, or do you want me to drag you out?”

“You said I could sleep here,” she complained, hardly completely awake yet. “And now I have to walk all the way to my dorm from the dungeons? At night? I don’t think so.”

The candle highlighted the frown etched into his face. “You should go.”

“This is the situation you created,” she countered. “You told me you were pulling an all-nighter. Why don’t you?”

He sighed, this time a staccato puff, and placed the candle holder on the nightstand. “Sorry I lied.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” she mumbled, turning back over to drift back into sleep.

“Wait, wait! What am I supposed to do?”

“That’s for you to figure out. I’m going back to sleep.”

“But you can’t just--”

“Sh.”

Y/N let herself fall back into the realm of dreams, but not enough to completely lose consciousness. She was aware of a few sounds of movement from the room she was in--she assumed it was Draco, Draco, that sounds much better than his last name--but it wasn’t enough to motivate her to lucidity.

However, when she felt the bed on her opposite side dip, that was more than enough.

“What the hell, Malfoy,” she snapped, shooting upright.

“Can you please be quiet? I’m sorry, it just so happens that you’re refusing to move from my bed, and I have no other options, unlike you.”

“I don’t want to argue right now! Can you just go somewhere else and let me sleep in peace?”

“I could say the same for you!”

The two sat in a heated silence until Malfoy finally took the high road.

“I’m sorry about this, but I’m offering you one last time to carry you over the wards. If you don’t want that, I’m going to sleep in my own bed whether you’re in it or not.”

Y/N swallowed. “Okay. Okay, fine. I’m not going to leave.”

“Goodnight.”

<^>

Y/N wasn’t totally sure what woke her up--perhaps it was the breath on her neck, or the warm arm that was draped over her side, or the tickle of something that felt suspiciously like very vine hair on her cheek--but when she did, her heart almost stopped.

Malfoy had slung an arm around her waist, pulling her closer than what was comfortable. His face was mere centimeters from her own, and every time he exhaled, a few rogue strands of pale hair brushed her cheek.

This was not good. She had to do something--but the most unethical part of her did not want to. Malfoy was no doubt going to be upset when he woke up to see this, and she needed him to be in a good enough mood to let her out of the boy’s dorms.

“Malfoy?” She broke the silence, softly nudging his side with her elbow. He groaned, burying his face into her neck. “Malfoy!”

Y/N gave him a swift shove, effectively detaching him from her.

“Er...what?” He shot up, looking very alarmed and confused. “What?”

“You have to carry me out of the wards, remember?” she told him, slipping out of the covers and pulling them off him. “We should get going as soon as possible. There might be people out in the common room the later it gets.”

He seemed to understand the problem as he swung upright and ran a finger through his ruffled hair.

“I’m sorry about that,” he mumbled.

“Sorry about what?”

“For, er, touching you, I know that I shouldn’t have done that,” he clarified, turning away from her, but not quickly enough to hide the blush on his cheeks. “I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s okay,” she mused. “I guess if we’re to have joint custody of Monty, we should get to know each other anyways.”

Malfoy froze for a second before he gathered his bearings. “Er, yeah. Yeah, good point. For Monty.”

Once he seemed ready, they left the room, Y/N giving a wave to Monty, who was curled around his perch.

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry about him,” Malfoy told her, spinning her around by her shoulders and opening his arms to pick her up again. She looped her legs over his arms again, leaning back into him and allowing her to lift her up and take her over the ward.

He set her down softly after making sure the coast was totally clear, looking down at the ground immediately after.

“Thank you, Draco,” she said quietly. “For everything. Sorry I was a bit of a pill last night.”

“’S only fair, I’ll been worse to you.”

Y/N couldn’t see for sure, but it appeared as though the very outer corners of his lips had turned up.

“I’ll see you in two days? Outside the dining hall?”

“Yeah.” He sounded almost breathless, like he was winded or something.

“Okay, well..I think I’m going to go,” she said, backing away. “Feel free to show up to the Hufflepuff entrance if you want any help. Or if I’m not there, then you can normally find me in the library, or you can always ask in potions...”

She trailed off once she saw that Draco’s face had broken into an exasperated but amused expression.

“Okay, I should go then.”

“Yeah, me too.”

With that, Y/N turned and left the Slytherin common room with the feeling that that was certainly not going to be the last time she was going to be there.

final a/n: i didn’t know how to incorporate actual fluff in here and i shouldn’t even be writing this rn lmaoooooo but here it is and i’m so sorry if it sucks i haven’t proofread

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x oc #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x oc #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter imagine #draco lucius malfoy

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phcking-detective · 4 years

Text

FOUND

Find Familiar: ch 1

Rating: E

Summary: Nines cast the spell Find Familiar, but instead of an animal, they accidentally summoned a werewolf. Gavin is just happy to have finally found his mate and start pack bonding with the half-elf wizard. His best idea for a fun bonding activity? Touching his dick of course!

***

Gavin wakes up with a warm, breathing body pressed against his own, and it's all he ever wanted.

Then reality seeps in like cold rain and he realizes it's just the one person, not a dog pile, because he doesn't have a pack. Only a wizard who maybe sort of magically owns him now.

So that's a great start to the morning.

He gets a stew started like he promised, once he finds some potatoes and carrots, one lonely haunch of meat in an icebox, and no spices beyond salt. There aren't many places to look, since the whole room is five, maybe six hundred square feet.

Gods. Gavin's a lone wolf living half-feral without a tent or even a fire half the time, and he still thinks this is pathetic.

He knows better than to touch any of the books scattered around—fucking wizards—so he doesn't try to clean anything while he waits for his new … boss? Alpha?? person, to wake up.

(He does risk moving a stack of papers to sit in front of the black leather collar on the desk. Not hidden. Just. Out of sight.)

"No celery?" the wizard asks.

Gavin bites down on a flinch and a few choice swears. Sweet Selûne shift him. Who the fuck goes from asleep to awake completely silent like that?

"No," he growls.

Nines blinks themself more awake. "Is your negative an agreement to my question or simply a negative?"

"Baby, I have no idea what the fuck you mean, but there's not any celery."

"Oh. Thank you."

The conversation ends there when he dishes out a bowl of stew, that Nines eats at their desk, one agonizingly slow bite at a time, almost as an afterthought as they work on creating papers and papers of writing.

Since the wizard is so absorbed in their scribbles they can barely notice food, Gavin strips down and takes a bath. The water runs hot straight out of the faucet, even without any signs of pipes. Sinking into a whole tub of it feels goddamn luxurious.

He's half-shifted before he even realizes, but Nines probably wouldn't notice he got out and swung his dick around like a propeller, so he doesn't force himself back. His hybrid form always feels better anyway, the best of both animals, with human hands and wolf senses, still able to stand and walk upright but with stronger muscles and thicker protective body hair.

He's still sunk down and amusing himself by blowing bubbles in the water with his near-snout when Nines finally surfaces for air on their own side of the tower.

"Gav—oh."

They turn around and blink at him. Gavin hunkers down lower in the water and prepares to force himself back, but even without actively poking the bond, he can tell there isn't any fear or revulsion from the wizard. He still pulls his snout of out the water and scents the air just to check, but … nothing.

"Good. Yes. Feel free to utilize any of the …" Nines pauses, stuck on the words. "Accommodations. Can you read?"

It's probably a fair question—especially since the answer is barely—but Gavin still hauls himself out of the bathtub and onto the sand pit so Nines will have to look at him. All the scars, the body hair almost thick enough to be a pelt, the way his bone structure is clearly halfway between one form and the other right now.

But instead of making the wizard flinch away and stop asking questions, Nines just grabs a different notebook and begins sketching him.

"Why?" Gavin growls out.

He can still speak, but just like his amount of literacy, the amount is barely. With lots of effort.

"Hmm?"

Nines looks up. Sort of. They lift their head at least, but their eyes stay focused down on their notebook, reluctantly dragged up at the very last second.

"Mm? Oh. Yes, here is your contract," they say.

They place the small stack of papers they'd written onto the dining table in the center of the room, then the two of them meet in the middle, each awkwardly taking a seat across from each other at the table, then staring at each other even more awkwardly.

"That is my brother's seat," Nines says.

Gavin raises an eyebrow but doesn't move his ass out of it. At least he put pants on before sitting down.

"I have never had another visitor," the wizard continues. "So. That has always been …"

They trail off, then grab their notebook and begin reading from it.

"My name is Nines. I am a wizard. I am thirty-two year half-elf. I do not have a gender. I use they-them pronouns. Pause for—"

They stop abruptly and look back up at him.

"… Gavin," he says. "I'm a fighter, thirty-six, werewolf. Born, not turned, so we don't really keep track of any races. You're either a wolf or you're not. Probably human though. Uh, he-him."

If they don't bother with human binary genders, maybe they'd understand just … switching genders? He thinks about it while Nines writes down what he'd said, like anything he says is actually important enough to be recorded.

Maybe he should let them get a little more attached to him before he tells them about the other crazy, evil wizard with a claim on him—and all the transformations they'd done on his body.

"Does your entire pack consist of born lycanthropes?" they ask, drawing him back into the conversation.

"Can just say wolves," Gavin grumbles. "And yeah. Haven't taken in a stray for a while."

No one does. That's why he's still—ugh, stop it. Fucking feeling sorry for himself.

"Is there a significant cultural difference between born and turned … wolves?"

Gavin stares at the wizard. Significant cultural difference, Selûne shift and collar him.

"Turned wolves don't have a pack," he finally says. "No one to share the mental load—most of the poor fuckers don't even know what's happening until they're already shifted and scared and starving. They've got just enough instinct to go back home, and then the screaming and running starts …"

He assumes he doesn't have to finish it from there. A hungry wolf sees something run, and they think prey, not child.

"I apologize if I ask simple questions," Nines states while still writing. "But I have never had the opportunity to meet a wolf in person, and so my knowledge is likely biased and incorrect. Is a coastal environment a suitable habitat for you?"

Gavin shrugs. "Sure. You gonna let me run around outside at some point?"

"Yes, of course. You may come and go as you please," Nines says. "How much land will your pack need? I do own the surrounding—"

His pack? Gavin stares at Nines as they ramble on about this land they own and how it's too rocky to support farming but has access to a cove, and the ensuing treaty with the local pod of merfolk, and—

And his pack. He has no idea what game the wizard is playing, but he never imagined it would include letting him "come and go as you please" and providing land for his—

"I don't have a pack," he blurts out.

Nines stops and blinks at him.

"Got kicked out."

He doesn't explain. It's impossible to explain just one thing, because it's all tangled together, in his mind, the words stuck in his throat. Refusing his pack's Alpha, bargaining to have his body changed and transformed, his womb scooped out so he could never be bred, never ever—

And where exactly that got him. They sit together in silence for a long, horrible moment.

"No one has need of a ninth child," Nines finally says.

"You really call yourself that?" Gavin asks in return, for lack of anything less dick-ish to say.

"Yes." Nines looks at him without any self-pity and factually adds, "It states all that most need to know. They do not need me, and I do not need them."

Gavin nods. "Fuck 'em."

"Yes. Well. I—" Nines stops and abruptly pushes the small pile of paperwork closer to his side of the table. "Here is your contract. It details what I … do need. And, expectations. I suppose the fifth clause is no longer necessary, unless you intend to create your own."

"My own … pack?" Gavin asks slowly.

"Yes."

He snorts. "I'm not going to run around and start turning people."

"Yes, that is included in the clause," Nines says. "Subsection A. Not to offend, but I thought it best to lay out a certain number of precautions first. B notes that you will be beholden to all the same laws as any other citizen, and C states you will make adequate arrangements for the full moon with myself or Knight Commander Anderson."

Gavin pulls a face at the rank. That shit's almost definitely a paladin. No sense of humor, holier than thou, and allergic to critical thinking. Just because you pledged allegiance to a deity society deemed "Good" doesn't actually mean literally everything you do is always going to be right or kind or morally just.

"He is also a lycan—" Nines stops and corrects, "A turned wolf, you called it? If expecting the two of you to … have commonalities … is unreasonable, then the subsection can be adjusted accordingly. The point is merely that you arrange for a safe and secure location each month."

"Yeah, we're not going to sniff each other's butts and be best friends," Gavin tells him. "It's probably how you feel about sorcerers and warlocks. Magic just looks like magic to me, but—yeah."

He stops when he sees Nines's face collapse into itself in the purest form of affronted disgust he's ever seen. This time, he can't stop a chuckle before it slips out.

"I can just stay here though?" he asks.

Nines unfurls their face enough to nod. "Yes. My power may be my own, achieved through my own studies, but I was sent to the same monastery as my twin. I acknowledge you have been sent by my patron deity, and I will fulfill my responsibilities to you thusly."

Gavin's eyebrows shoot up. "You're religious?"

"I worship Selûne," Nines answers.

Gavin stares at the wizard.

"Children born under the full moon often have enhanced magical ability," they explain. "She is also the goddess of navigation, quests, and all who work by night. It was the battle with her own twin that caused the formation of Mystral, the goddess of all magic. Many arcane users still worship her as such."

"And werewolves," Gavin says as how this shit all happened clicks into place.

"Your duties outlined in the contract." Nines stops and clears their throat. "Every power has a price, and mine was enacted at my birth. I have always needed certain accommodations. I realize now a mere animal would not be enough to serve as my familiar, yet a person has never been summoned before. A familiar that is both animal and person, however …"

Gavin nods at the stack of papers. "So am I your familiar or your employee?"

"Well, both," Nines answers. "You are magically bound to me, but you obviously are not a simple animal. I have made adjustments due to these extenuating circumstances, but this is a standard contract for all minions, assistants, and others employed by wizards."

He snorts. "Do I have a union?"

"Yes, subsection E, although you will need to opt-in," Nines replies, very sincerely.

Gavin taps the top paper to make a point when he asks his next question, and the paper suddenly yells the word "HEREFORE" at him.

"Oh, my apologies." Nines takes the stack from him and scribbles a few marks in the top corner. "There, the volume should be properly adjusted."

Gavin cautiously slides the papers back over, being careful to only touch the sides of the stack. He takes the first page off the top and pokes his name, one of the few words he recognizes.

"Gavin," the paper announces.

"I have paperwork I must complete to officially register you as both my familiar and my new minion," Nines tells him. "I trust you can be left to your own devices to review our contract?"

"Yeah," Gavin says.

"Very good."

Nines gets up and returns to their desk. Still no collar, only … this contract. Gavin runs his finger along the first line.

"The entity known as Gavin, herefore referred to as THE FAMILIAR, will enter into a magically binding contract with Nines, herefore referred to as THE WIZARD, to serve in the capacities of both a FAMILIAR and a MINION, as outlined by the Wizard Coalition of …"

***

Gavin nuzzles into his bed and groans. Three days of barely stopping to hunt and sleep to get here, and now it's been another three days of slowly figuring each other out.

Which hasn't been bad or anything. He got to run around outside, do a few laps around the borders of Nines's land. Cold, wet, and rocky, but he has to admit, he's kind of digging the melodramatic sea-side vibe. The air smells like salt and storms all the time, crowding out all the memories of soft earth and dense forest.

And he's got a contract. A "boss." That's the word Nines wants to use, so Gavin says that, but they both know he means Alpha.

It's good to have a job, food, and a bed, blah blah blah, he's really grateful and all, it's just—

Maybe not everyone has them or wants to indulge in them, but Gavin does for both.

And it's been nearly a week.

"Nines," he finally says.

He pokes at their bond too for good measure. The wizard won't pay attention to him unless he does. They'll look up and point their face at his face, but somehow their hand will keep writing in the scroll and they won't hear a goddamn word he says.

Even with the mental prodding, Nines barely turns their head. "Hmm?"

"I need to jack off."

Nines keeps writing for half a second before they blink and actually look at him. "… now?"

Gavin half-shrugs, still laying down. "I mean, tonight, yeah."

He's a werewolf using testosterone cream—kept in a jar in his coin purse, which was much more important to enchant to shift with him than shoes—who just formed a mental pack bond again. Full moon already past or no, his hormones are screaming at him that he needs to fuck.

But that's probably not Nines's idea of a fun bonding activity.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks, then continues with narrowed eyes before he can even reply, "Do not use my spell components."

Gavin barks out a laugh. "What—I'm gonna jack it with oblex ooze? That'd melt my fucking dick off!"

"Yes, it would."

He pauses. "Do … you know that for sure?"

Nines sighs. Deeply. "I attended an academy meant to train paladins, clerics, and perhaps the odd druid."

"All the most repressed spellcasters, huh?"

Nines doesn't deny it. Gavin snorts, imagining all the magically-inclined tithe-children being told to keep themselves pure so they can be properly donated to the gods turning into magically-inclined teenagers hit with guilt and libido in equal measure—and all the idiot fuckery they probably got up to without any actual education about their bodies.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks again. "I do not keep supplies for that on hand."

"You don't keep supplies or you don't uh, keep anything on hand?" Gavin wiggles his eyebrows.

Nines flushes and glares like they're still a prefect at that academy. "I—that is not—"

Gavin raises his own hands to prove they're above the sheets. "If that's not any of my business, sure. Figured that, honestly. Which is why I'm telling you that I've got needs, but I can just go downstairs if you want."

"Downstairs?" Nines frowns less furiously.

"That little entranceway at the door is large enou—"

"I'm not going to send you out into the hall," Nines says, like that's what will make them clutch their pearls in shock. "You can stay in your own bed."

"Yeah?" Gavin gives the wizard a once over. "I'm good with that. So good. But what I'm willing to do with pack and what you think is appropriate for a roommate probably isn't the same thing."

Nines's frown turns more calculating, like they're correcting the runes in a spell. "We are discussing you staying in your bed to masturbate while I continue my studies, correct?"

"… yeah?"

"Are you going to call me names, attempt to touch me, or—"

"No, no," Gavin rushes to reassure them. "I can just …"

He moves his hand down and cups himself, just to demonstrate that he's only going to be touching his own body, before he remembers that's not socially acceptable around humans either. Nines only cocks their head to the side though, a mild curiosity leaking through their mental bond.

And fuck, just his hand feels good right now. It's been nearly a goddamn week.

"Do you have adequate lubrication?" Nines asks.

Gavin shivers under the sound of their voice. "Don't need it. Get wet enough myself."

He feels the bond pulse again with that academic sort of curiosity, like Nines is going to start taking notes on him again while he jacks off. He pushes his trousers down, moving slowly enough to give his boss plenty of time to look away. He isn't wearing smalls of course. They'd just be another piece he'd have to pay to get enchanted.

Nines eyes his cock like they might sketch it in exact anatomical detail.

Gavin doesn't mention how he got it—his bargain and the Collar, the collapsed tower, the vows of vengeance—he'll get around to confessing it all eventually. But in the meantime: a fun bonding activity.

Gavin grips his cock and gives it a few strokes. Nines blinks in a way that's more like shutting their eyes repeatedly. He exhales slowly and makes himself stop, although he does still keep his hand held loosely around the base.

"If you don't want echoes, you'll have to wall off your mind on your own end," he advises Nines. "I'm uh … a little too busy here to concentrate."

"Echoes," Nines repeats.

Shit, right. Human. Doesn't seem to specialize in any divination or enchantment magic—so they probably don't have any experience being inside someone else's head.

"Yeah, that's why I offered to," He jerks his chin at the door. "Distance helps, some."

Nines does that tiny little head tilt again. "May I observe?"

Gavin licks his lips. "Yeah."

"May I ignore you?" they ask next.

"Uh, sure?"

He doesn't have any human hangups about nudity, but he's not going to whip his dick out and waggle it at anyone who doesn't want to see it. Jacking off in the same room is probably already pushing it, but then again, the rules seem to be different in boarding schools and barracks and sometimes bars but sometimes not—humans have so many weird fucking rules.

"Then," Nines says. "You do as you please, and I will do the same."

"Works for me."

Gavin gives his cock another squeeze, and Nines turns back to their scroll. Yeah, he's a little disappointed about that, but it's enough just to have his pack in the same room and know he's not alone.

Since the wizard isn't watching anyway, Gavin rolls over and shoves a blanket down around his crotch. He has a whole nest of them, all piled up on top of a mattress Nines insisted he have. They'd tried to bring in an actual bed, but it's just weird, sleeping so high up and away from the ground for no reason.

He gets a soft little mound built up and grips himself again through the blanket. Even if Nines makes him wash it after, this will make his bed smell like him and home and—

Gavin buries his face into his pillow and inhales. It still has Nines's scent on it. All the blankets do too, so now they'll smell like the both of them, like pack.

He feels a fresh jab of interest spike back through their bond and guesses Nines is watching him again. Maybe jacking off right in front of them like that was a little too much, but with everything mostly out of view now, they're back to curious again.

It only takes him a minute to build up a steady rhythm, rutting into the blankets and his own hand. He groans into the pillow and hears Nines breathe in sharply.

Echoes. He grins and keeps going.

He doesn't know what kind of needs Nines has or wants to fulfill, but he likes the thought of making them feel good. Would like it even better if he could crawl over between the wizard's legs and find out what they're working with by licking it.

"Gavin …"

The wolf whines in response to his name in his Alpha's mouth. He squeezes his hand tighter at the base of his cock against the knot trying to plump up there, just in case Nines wants it.

"Yeah, baby?" Gavin manages to growl.

"Oh."

Nines breathes the word, and Gavin can feel a small simmer of arousal bounce back and forth between them—this time from the wizard's end, not his.

"Does it always feel like this?" they ask.

He groans in answer, the only response he has to the soft wonder in their voice. He knows humans' senses are weak and dull, that they don't get hit with lust and frenzy the same way wolves do.

But hearing the awe in his human's voice the first time they feel it too makes him want to show them how good it can really feel.

"Yeah," he bites out. "Better with … you."

His canines get in the way of the words, the partial shift rippling through his body. He's never had particularly good control of it, so there's no stopping the change now when his blood's up.

"Are you wet?"

The question stabs through him. Gavin loses his rhythm with a whimper, nearly overcome with the instinct to crawl over and show his Alpha, present his cock or his mouth or whatever hole they want to use.

And he is wet. He can feel it dripping down the length of his cock, more pooling at the head, smearing into the palm of his hand.

"Uh huh," he pants.

Gavin bites down into the blankets as he ruts harder, but a sharply clicked tongue brings him back to awareness. He turns his head to the side and blearily stares up at Nines as he continues fucking his own hand.

"I would like to hear you," Nines says.

"Baby," Gavin breathes in reply.

Nines closes their eyes and shivers. Well, if they like his voice …

"Wanna lick you," he says. "Suck on you and make you—ahhh, make you feel good."

"I—" Nines stares at him with wide eyes.

"Shh, shhh." Gavin keeps making the noise in a low mumble as he slows down his pace into a dirty grind. "Gotcha baby, get my mouth on your nipples an' your neck, your mouth, make you wet too."

"I don't usually like to be touched," Nines admits.

Gavin's brain snatches onto the word usually, but he doesn't want to push. There's some shit he knows for sure he won't ever do, but then there's a lot more he just doesn't know if he really doesn't want, or maybe only in the right situation, with the right pronouns and body parts, the right person, but then how is he supposed to know if he wants it enough to try it if he won't know if he actually wants it until he's already tried it?

So that's a whole big nest of wyverns, and neither of them need to try to sort it out right this moment.

"Can give you this though, yeah?" Gavin asks.

He twists his wrist on the upstroke against the head, but then stops and holds completely still. Nines tries to strangle a whine in their throat at the lost sensation.

"… yes."

That confession sounds much better. Gavin grins at the wizard and starts thrusting again, still looking at them. Their long eyelashes and shoulder-length hair almost soften their face into pretty, but then thin lips, a straight nose, and strong jaw sharpen the effect back up again. And the ice-blue eyes set against pale skin and black hair just sends it all careening past beautiful or handsome into big words about being scary-haunting-magical that the wolf can't think of right now.

He can feel his orgasm building up, drowning in those eyes staring right back at him, but he squeezes harshly at the base of his cock. The sensation strangles at the root, like the little moans Nines won't let escape their mouth.

He probably shouldn't tempt it, but he sinks into the feeling of tightening and loosening his grip around his knot and the waves of pleasure that sends rolling through them both.

"You," Nines says but can't seem to find anymore words.

"Mmgff." Gavin huffs into the pillow and tries to make his own words work. "Good, feels good. Sorry. Won't knot if—fffuck."

If that scares you. Disgusts you. Bores you, to be stuck listening to him come and come and come while the exasperated wizard is trying to focus on their studies.

He pries his eyes back open when he hears footsteps and stares up at Nines paused in an awkward-half crouch over him, like they're not sure if they're allowed to touch. His tail makes the decision for both of them by immediately wagging in anticipation of pets and attention.

"May I touch you?" Nines still asks.

Gavin nods past a desperate whine. A hand slides up the back of his neck first, while another soothes over his bare flank. Must've kicked off his trousers at some point. All that matters is the hand on the back of his neck, pinning him down, holding him place, exactly where he should be for his Alpha.

His tail wags harder.

"May I see?"

The hands urge him to roll over, and he does, without hesitation, like a dog showing his belly when his master comes home.

Laying on his back like this, he knows the partial shift is even more apparent. Just about everything humans think they know is bullshit, but his hybrid form really does look like those shitty illustrations of big scary wolf men.

And that's without the thick, hairy cock jutting out between his legs.

He's proud of it, wanted it, needed it, but that was for himself. He wasn't trying to impress anyone, and he's not expecting a human to like it.

"Does your phallus typically have this appearance, or is it increasingly engorged due to your partial transformation?" Nines asks.

Gavin stares up at them and tries to impress through their mental bond just how many fucking words that was.

Nines flushes and tries again. "Does it get bigger when you shift?"

"Yeah," he says. "Touch me?"

He holds his cock slightly out toward the wizard in offering. Nines hums in consideration but doesn't make any move toward it. That's fair.

"Do you knot without …" They struggle with the words again. "Sex?"

Gavin strokes himself, tugging upward and pause at the head. It leaves his knot free below, not quite there yet, but noticeably swollen under the attention.

"Can. Sometimes."

"Will you show me?"

Nines stares down at him and meeting their eyes is like looking at the moon. Humans want so badly to sort everything into Good or Bad, even the deities they worship. But some things aren't good or bad, only intense.

Gavin nods, mouth slack and panting. He wraps his left hand around his knot to work it while his right keeps stroking the rest. Nines's eyes sweep up and down him like a search light scanning for a rogue.

"Feel … good?" he asks between pants.

Maybe he's already asked, but it's hard to think right now. He tugs at the bond, trying to pull Nines's mind closer to him, get them to come down out of the sky and feel it with him. The wizard's hands clench into the robes draped over their kneeling legs.

Then they open their eyes again, and Gavin could swear their irises really have turned a silvery-blue.

"Behave."

The order thunders down their bond and into his chest. Gavin groans, the tightness coiled inside him easing another measure. He's not quite ready to unspool, but maybe—maybe just a little?

"I am asking about you."

Nines's voice changes from questioning and a little stilted to informing him of how it is, like casting a spell. Gavin doesn't have any ability himself, but as far as he knows, that's kind of how they do it. Spell casting is just telling reality what to do with enough conviction that reality up and does it.

"Do you want to be mine?"

Gavin thrusts into his hands in answer. It's sloppy and a little pathetic, because there's nothing for him to rut into. But he starts nodding again, just in case that wasn't enough.

"Like this?" Nines touches him for the second time, one hand gently curling around his throat. "To be mine."

He's coming undone. Falling apart. Food and shelter and an Alpha, their own little pack of two, someone touching him and promising to claim him.

"Suh … 'posed to be … yours."

He knows it's true, it's true, true. The call in his mind, their contract, both of them bound by Selûne.

"Yes," Nines confirms. "Show me."

Gavin comes almost before they finish speaking. He tries to hold eye contact as long as he can, but eventually his own squeeze shut as he curls in on himself with a shudder. The first wave passes deceptively quick, with just a few spurts from his cock.

But he's not done.

"Good boy."

Those hands are back again, just like before, this time encouraging him to roll back onto his belly. They stroke through his hair and scritch behind his ears when he obeys, and he thinks life couldn't possibly get any better until there's a warm body sliding onto the mattress behind him.

Then he's being spooned and everything inside him unravels without any warning.

When he's done coming for the second time, he's aware of a few things: the hand wrapped back around his throat, first. That the gangly half-human, half-elf is tall enough to almost envelope him completely. The soft murmur of praise in his ear, shifted halfway up his head now and nearly wolf-like.

Yours.

It's harder to send the thought out when he's only partially shifted. Even with other wolves, they all share best as animals, some basic concepts as hybrids, and only faint echoes when unshifted.

But being the wizard's familiar must be different, since he'd heard the summons in his head from damn near across the country, in all forms, while Nines can't shift at all.

You are mine. I will take care of you, if you allow me to keep you.

Oh yeah, that's definitely different. Wolves share senses and feelings, not full sentences.

Keep me, Gavin manages to think back.

"Yes," Nines murmurs aloud.

The third wave hits him, and he sobs as he comes for his Alpha. His body is just doing the best it can to please, still managing to pump out another two shots of cum. He can finally feel a tinge of mild revulsion from Nines, but it seems to be aimed more at the mess than himself. Bold feelings from a wizard who left a hunk of bread to mold so long they mistook it for a stoneshroom.

"Perhaps I should invest in a toy," they muse. "A sleeve somewhat akin to a bag of holding, so that it can contain all this mess."

Gavin groans in a not-sexy way. "Don't make me fuck a void."

"No, the pocket dimension would only be applied at the tip of the—"

He can't help but start laughing. Pocket dimension applied at the tip—and said completely straight. Goddamn wizards.

Nines expresses their irritation at being laughed at by nipping his ear, and yep, there's wave number four. To their credit, they do continue to hold him until he gets another brief reprieve.

"How many times does this occur?" they ask when he's done.

"Depends," Gavin scrapes together enough brain matter to say. "More with … partner."

"Hmm," Nines says, like the feral scientist they are.

Gavin flips off his pride and goes straight to begging. "Please."

He's not sure what exactly he's begging for though—not to be forced into multiple orgasms while Nines observes or takes notes, or that the wizard will get started on that right away.

"Please, please, baby."

Nines pulls him back to rest half on top of their body, which lets them switch their right hand for their left hand around his throat without him laying on top of their arm. And that in turn frees up their right hand to drop down to his cock.

"Yours, yours," he mumbles. "Alpha."

"What do you need?"

Their hand brushes his own, the one gripping his knot. He lets go for an agonizing second to press their hand against it instead. Nines lets him wrap his hand back around theirs, using both of their hands to squeeze and lightly tug the knot.

"Ah … ahhh …"

"Ask properly," Nines orders.

"Alphaaa!"

He practically wails the word, shaking apart in Nines's arms and beneath their hand, but he can't now, it's not enough on his own anymore, not without permission.

"Hmmm."

Gavin cries freely, but doesn't make Nines grip him tighter or stroke him off. His Alpha will give him what he needs, and he'll take what he's given, like a good boy.

But that doesn't mean he can't ask for more.

"Baby," he groans. "Need it, need it, I—phck, please!"

"Yes."

The final wave sweeps over him so hard he goes blind, or his eyes shut, or he's back on his belly again, face smushed into the pillow, Nines's hand still around him and the blankets beneath his cock to rut into and it's not the last because Nines tells him Again and Again, until he's coming dry, throat hoarse from crying.

And then once more after that.

When he regains consciousness again, his whole body feels sore in the best possible way. There's drool running down his chin, tacky and drying to the pillow. He has his knees tucked up beneath him, but that's OK, because this is how he's supposed to present anyway.

Except the hand reaching between his legs doesn't breach him. Something soft and wet swipes over him instead, and he can't even muster up the mental energy to be scared, to explain why that's still there, that he managed to bargain for a working cock and all his insides scooped out, but that's still—

"Hush." Nines soothes him with another hand rubbing his back. "You did very well. All you must do now is rest."

Gavin sinks back down into the delicious ache and doesn't move while Nines cleans the slick from between his thighs, then further up to his cock. The blankets he'd rutted into have already been removed at some point. He knows from experience not even the best wizard on the material plane could wash his scent out though and takes a moment to feel a little smug about it.

"Yes, you came a truly impressive amount," Nines says. "Excessive, actually."

Gavin smacks his mouth before he can speak. "Your fault."

"Hmmm."

Nines stands when he's done and moves away. Gavin manages to flop onto his side and curl up. His boss did say he could sleep now. He just needs a little nap.

He gets a flask of water shoved in his face instead. The hand petting him goes back awkward again, pat-pat-pat instead of real pets. Nines doesn't seem to know exactly what to do now that they're done, but clean up and water was still really nice of them.

Gavin finishes gulping down the flask and heaves in air.

"I have work I need to finish," Nines informs him. "Have your needs been sufficiently met?"

Sufficiently met? Fuck, he's had orgies that didn't wear him out this good.

"Yeah," Gavin answers. "Need to sleep now."

Nines smiles at him. "Excellent. Good boy."

Gavin grins lazily back at them. "And when I wake up, I'm gonna crawl over between your legs and make you feel good too."

Nines flushes and half opens their mouth to protest.

"When you need a break from your scroll-thingy, and only if you let me," he adds.

Nines closes their mouth. They don't say anything else, but that means they also don't say no. Their blush doesn't go away either. They simply stand back up and sit down at their desk, spending far too much concentration fussing over the exact alignment of all their inks and quills instead of looking at Gavin.

Who keeps grinning, even as he yawns and snuggles down in his bed. He just needs a little nap, and then after that … he has all sorts of ideas for fun bonding activities.

***

This fic was commissioned by one of my followers to continue the first drabble! Subscribers to my Patreon get early access to all my commissioned fics 2 weeks before they’re posted to AO3 and tumblr ^^

#reed900 #gavin reed #dbh #dbh fic #detroit: become human

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catty-words · 4 years

Note

uhhhh you made some gifs about ben tryng to kiss devi twice despite her not wanting that and you got real poetic in the tags. have you considered that maybe that's messed up? he tried to kiss her. twice. without her consent. a second time he did it after she'd said no. Devi looked really uncomfortable. And he never apologized, just blamed alcohol. how can you romantiise that??? shipping her with ben is fine but uhhhhhhhh that's fucked up

good lord, okay. if that scene bothers you, then it bothers you and i’m likely not going to change your mind about it any more than you’re going to convince me not to enjoy it. but the tone of this ask feels as though your trying to deem it problematic™ in order to feel like you’ve done your work reading the text critically and, like, look. i’m not going to say that your reading is incorrect. devi was uncomfortable. she removed herself from the situation, such was the gravity of her discomfort. but i also don’t think yours is the most genuine reading of the scene, if you wanna be honest. and hey, you came into my askbox, so you’re inviting my honest opinion.

consent is important. let’s start there. if ben were a more perfect person, he’d have asked if he could kiss devi before doing it. but the thing is, one of the main takeaways from the scene is that, far from perfect, ben is an awkward teen boy very much in his own head about his newly intense crush and his all-consuming loneliness. so he doesn’t ask the first time he leans in—he instead relies on the context clues of the birthday present and devi generally being cute and a little giggly to decide she might be into kissing. totally understandable. endearing, even, that ben and devi have this what-the-hell-i’ll-go-for-it kind of approach to crushing in common.

so, the second kiss. not as clean-cut i’ll grant you. devi’s body language and her words communicate that she’s Not Into It. but one of the things i personally find interesting about the scene is the way they’re on two very different pages the whole time. ben wants to unload about how much his parents suck, and devi didn’t exactly show up to the party to shoulder the burden of ben’s loneliness. she’s dealing with plenty of her own that she’s trying to ignore with a Traditional Popular Kid Experience, while ben’s trying to ignore his by hanging with his crush.

that said, ben wanting to kiss devi so badly that he misreads her “it’s cool” as an invitation rather than the placating gesture it is strikes me as well-motivated based on what we know about ben and as a very human thing to do. unflattering? totally. hard to look at directly for all the secondhand embarrassment? depends on your tolerance level. but messed up? i don’t feel the need to take it to that place.

more importantly, though, devi doesn’t feel the need. she tells him in no uncertain terms that him trying to kiss her is why she’s walking away, but she stops and listens to his apology that he pretty much immediately gives her. she trusts him enough to place herself in the extremely vulnerable position of moving in with him.

and sure, i’ll grant you that in both his apologies—because he does apologize and he does it twice, once immediately and then again when he sees her at school—he uses alcohol as a justification. but he’s clearly embarrassed and uncertain where they stand now. we’ve been shown the way that his dynamic with devi is a grounding force in his life; it makes sense that he’s a bit panic-stricken. when i’m flustered by my own shortcomings, i don’t give the best apologies, either. so the fact that his first and also most pressing instinct is to smooth things over, to me, speaks to his character in a good way.

tl;dr: i don’t feel the need to problematize ben’s behavior because devi was in control of the situation the whole time! but if the awkward mess that is those two interacting while wanting wildly different things isn’t entertaining to you, i do not begrudge you this!

anyway, thanks for thinking my tags are poetic that was nice

#anon #replies #never have i ever #devi x ben #feel very proud to have typed out anything resembling reasonable discussion because my primary reaction to seeing this ask was #sfkbgjsngsbjlkjdfb #nhie meta

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 3 years

Text

Winter Fox Part 1 / 2

Summary: Steve and Bucky discover that they know the Female!Rogers!Reader more than they think.

TW/CW: Bucky Barnes x Female!Rogers!Reader, other than that I don’t think there is any but if you know any I should add, lmk. Set after the snap. Spoiler Alert: Reader and Bucky end up together in a different part.

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,396

A/N: Uh I used Google Translate for the Russian so I apologize if it’s incorrect. I didn't get very far in learning Russian and it was a while ago when I was learning it. I had to split it into multiple parts bc I was afraid it was getting too long but should I just do a second and like time skip to when Reader remembers everything and she and Bucky are together or would you guys prefer that I make a series of it and show her regaining her memories? Spoiler Alert: Reader and Bucky end up together. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Requests are Open!

Your POV

They call me the Winter Fox. Often times, if it weren’t for me, the Winter Soldiers wouldn’t have been able to complete the missions they were sent on. My missions were generally the same, get intel of a subject and give it to Hydra so that they can figure out how to send a Winter Soldier after them. That was until they tried to start sending me on missions with the Winter Soldier, the first of his kind. These missions were always a power struggle and they ended up having to add who was in charge to our mission commands otherwise we would get into arguments and almost compromise the mission.

When the Winter Soldier escaped and Hydra supposedly fell, another head of course took its place. I was taken from the storage facility in Siberia, where I was being kept with the other Winter Soldiers. They didn’t need the others if they had me. I could out match all of them put together. Even still, I was kept in cryofreeze until Hydra saw fit to raise their head again.

It wasn’t until three years after the lost half of the world’s population returned from The Snap that Hydra decided The Avengers had gotten too comfortable and wanted to shake things up again. Of course, most of them had been wiped out in the snap and brought back. I wasn’t though. I still remained in cryofreeze. Once, they brought me out again, they prepped me and immediately sent me after Steve Rogers, which I suppose I should be thankful for.

I failed to complete the mission the first time and the Winter Soldier, well I suppose he prefers his real name now, recognized me. I don’t actually know his real name, or maybe I do and don’t remember it. It’s on the tip of my tongue but I can’t figure it out. Anyway, I failed that mission but Hydra sent me right back out after a memory wipe. I failed again and that brings my thoughts to where I am now, good timing too.

A red headed woman enters the room with her head held high, “Privetstvuyu Gidru.” (Hail Hydra).

Suspicious, I confirm, “Privetstvuyu Gidru.”

Not missing a beat, she commands, “Zimnyaya lisa, dayte otchet o missii.” (Winter Fox, give your report.)

“Po ch'yemu prikazu, neznakomets?” (On who’s orders, Stranger?) I inquire.

“Vasily Karpov. Vash staryy komandir mertv, i teper' ya glavnyy. Ne zastavlyay menya povtoryat'sya,” (Vasily Karpov. Your old commander is dead and I am in charge now. Don’t make me repeat myself,) she says.

Convinced, I give her my mission report of the failed mission I had just been captured on. As I finish, she turns her back and faces the one-way mirror, “So, this one wasn’t only sent for Rogers but for Barnes as well.” The name Barnes catches my attention but I keep my gaze lowered and ignore it. I haven’t been spoken to therefore it’s none of my business. After a brief moment, she turns back to me, “Chto eto u tebya na sheye?” (What is that around your neck?) I pull the dog tags out from under my shirt. I had long since forgotten about them but never took them off, I was ordered to keep them on. “Kto oni takiye? Chitat' ikh,” (Who’s are they? Read them) she commands.

“James B Barnes,” I pause. There’s that name again, “32557038 T41 42 0. R. Barnes. 3092 Stockton Rd. Shelbyville, IN.” The look of shock on her face is unmistakable. She turns to the window again.

Bucky’s POV

Everyone in the room has their eyes on me now. Those are my dog tags. Why does the Winter Fox have my dog tags? Tony goes to say something but is interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y, “Mr. Stark the results are back from the DNA test.”

“Okay, let’s hear it then,” says Stark.

“Captain Rogers, Sargeant Barnes, you may want to take a seat for this,” F.R.I.D.A.Y cautions.

“Just get on with it, please,” Steve insists.

“The DNA matches that of one (Y/N) Rogers. Born (Your Birthday), 1916.”

“That can’t be. She disappeared back in the 30s,” Steve says in surprise.

“The DNA test isn’t gonna lie, Rogers. That’s why we did it in the first place,” Stark informs gently.

“But she disappeared 90 years ago,” Steve says, not wanting to accept that his older sister is now sitting on the other side of the glass.

“You’re right. She disappeared but that doesn’t mean she died, Steve,” I say, finally finding my voice again.

Your POV

I wait patiently as the woman seems to be listening to something, probably an earpiece. Suddenly, everything goes black. A blue theater screen lights up, bathing the darkness in a soft glow. Then, a movie starts to play on it. I watch as a young girl and two young boys play tag on a street corner. Somehow, I recognize the girl as myself. I watch as a woman calls the three children into the house.

The scene shifts and the three children are now nearly adults wandering down a long sidewalk. On the girl’s right, well my right, the tallest of the two men nudges my arm, “Ya know, doll, maybe you guys should at least come over for dinner tonight. Wouldn’t want you two to starve.”

I glance over at the shorter man beside me and he shakes his head as expected. “Thank you for the offer, James, but I think we’ll be alright. Besides, Stevie doesn’t seem to want to be around anyone right now,” I whisper this last part. So that’s their names, Stevie and James? Wait James as in, I, well the me that’s watching the movie, look down at the dog tags hanging around my neck. Surely this isn’t the same James, that’s such a common name.

I look back to the screen and now the movie me is standing on a porch with Stevie and James. I step aside as James steps forward and hands Stevie a key, “The thing is, you don’t have to. I’m with you till the end of the line, pal.” Stevie turns and unlocks the door before going inside. With this, James turns to me, “Take care of yourself, and him. You know where to find us if you need anything.” With this, he kisses my forehead before walking away.

Everything goes black again and I open my eyes. Now, there are several other people in the room with me. I look around and to my surprise, I see Stevie and James in the room as well, except James is also the Winter Soldier and Stevie has gotten a lot taller. Confusion courses through my mind as Stevie steps forward, “(Y/N), I’m Steve. Do you by any chance remember me?”

I look to James and back before nodding, “You’re my little brother and that’s James. He was our best friend when we were growing up.” My head hurts after remembering all this information. Oddly, that’s the last thing I remember until being assigned the mission I failed for the second time today. My mission, I was sent to kill my brother and his best friend, who I now know is the Winter Soldier.

“You’re safe here. Hydra can’t get to you here,” Steve says, “do you want to go lie down somewhere?”

Before I can answer, James speaks up, “Don’t tell her that, Steve. We don’t know that they won’t come for her or that someone else won’t for that matter.”

“Bucky, I’m trying to not scare her,” Steve scolds.

“He’s right. I’m their last weapon. They’ll come for me,” I mumble.

At this, Steve turns to a teenage girl in the corner, “Shuri, can you get the trigger words out of her mind like you did Bucky’s?” The girl nods. Steve turns back to me, “She can make it so that they can’t trigger you anymore. She did it for Bucky too.”

I look over to James. Steve always called him Bucky but I liked James better. He looks at me for a moment, “She can. You don’t have to do their bidding anymore, doll.” Doll, he always called me that. Rarely did I ever hear him call me by my name.

I return my attention to Steve, “Okay, let’s do it. The sooner the better, less likely that they get to me before she does it.”

Part 2 || Masterlist

Taglist:

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #imagine #imagines #requests open

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Note

I adore your work but psychopath and sociopath are outdated and ableist terms that refer to people with antisocial personality disorder and who lack empathy. lacking empathy is a stigmatized trait but isn't equatable with evilness. What is a sign of cruelty is lacking compassion.

The term psychopathy is still widely in use in both clinical and common settings. While I understand the move to ensure that people who have Antisocial Personality Disorder (APD, from here on out) are correctly referred to rather than simply being called ‘psychopath’ or ‘sociopath’ when that may not accurately describe them, Karen Renford does not have APD. I cannot emphasize that enough. She does not have a diagnosable mental condition, and it is not the root of her actions.

I am not using psychopath as a shorthand for APD. IIRC, psychopathy isn’t actually IN the DSM anymore. But no, Karen’s doesn’t have APD and I absolutely won’t refer to her as having it, because she does not have that diagnosis.

To use that to describe her or refer to her would be incorrect and would then turn her into a pretty awful portrayal of a very real diagnosis. I am utilizing the term psychopath - and it’s what Karen herself would refer to herself as, and what she believes herself to be, with neither treatment nor a true diagnosis, neither of which she has ever sought - as a common parlance that carries a context that helps encapsulate her personality for a wider audience not necessarily thinking in terms of clinical diagnoses.

I absolutely would not feel comfortable at all with linking her abject cruelty to any specific mental health condition.

Karen lacks empathy, to be sure, because she has a total inability to see other people as people and relate to them - but she also distinctly and totally lacks compassion and her cruelty knows no bounds.

Karen’s lack of empathy is not what makes her evil, although it is something that she finds useful in building the life that has chosen that feeds her cruelty. Her lack of empathy gives her a way to live out her evil, but it isn’t even the most important part of her story.

Her grandiose sense of self/god complex and her total need to have absolute control are far more evil, and far more the base of her personality, than anything to do with empathy itself.

If my words - what I have written - have given the sense that I believe Karen’s lack of empathy is the root of her evil, I deeply apologize for that and I will be more careful to emphasize in the future that it is her cruelty and need for control that have made her a villain, not a lack of empathy.

The lacking empathy thing is an important personality trait that helps to describe her and that carries great weight in her thought processes and the decisions she makes, but it’s not evil.

Karen Renford IS evil - because she is cruel, and vindictive, petty and manipulative, violent and obsessed with having total and complete control over the lives of innocent people up to and including having control over their deaths.

I believe the actual diagnosis of APD should be a neutral term and should not be used as a descriptor for my villain, and Karen doesn’t fit that diagnosis and is not neutral.

I would hope that no one reading this story is taking it as an example of a clinical diagnosis of any kind.

I hope this reply was helpful, and I’d be happy to speak further in private messages.

#karen renford #ask ash something and she'll answer

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bruciewayne · 4 years

Text

birthday suits and booty shorts

stevetony, fluff, humour, getting together, 2k

“Oh god,” Tony groans, “Please tell me you that you weren’t wearing a fucking nylon suit in the Battle last year?”

“Um,” Steve says, intelligently, “it’s flexible?”

Tony gives him an unimpressed look, which isn’t anything particularly out of the ordinary, “So are leggings, but you’re not going to fight gods in them!”

Steve has a sudden flashback to the time Bucky yelled at him for going into the HYDRA base in costume, not armour. It hurts less than it used to.

“Only HYDRA,” Steve quips, with a smile.

Tony looks like he’s going to have an aneurysm.

“I thought that was made up.”

“Howard told you!?”

“Called it heroic.”

“Buck called it moronic, so did Pegs.”

Tony laughs at that, “Yeah, he once mentioned it around her, and she gave me explicit instructions to never go into any sort of battle in booty shorts.”

“She always did give sound advice,” Steve says, deciding to ignore the ‘booty shorts’ comment (and if it’s because he agrees, then that’s not relevant).

Tony narrows his eyes, and Steve hasn’t known him long, but he knows him enough that he can clearly identify that as his ‘I’m thinking, shut up’ face.

“Didn’t she shoot you?”

“Four times.”

Tony looks at him incredulously, “Sounds like her, but this,” he says, waving his uniform about, “no bueno.”

Three days later, Tony has the suit made, reinforced kevlar, carbon nanotubes, biometric tracker, and a small ‘Captain Rogers’ on the breastbone. Of course, he only got it made this fast to get it out of the way, and not because he cared in any way whatsoever about Captain Uptight (that initial assessment may be incorrect and in need of revising, but he’ll get to that later).

Steve, predictably, is in the gym when Tony asks JARVIS of his location. Unpredictable is what he’s wearing. He’s doing Planche push-ups when Tony comes in, so all Tony can see of his godawful gear is the ‘PROPAGANDA’ scrawled over his ass, and damn, science in the 40s should get far more credit than it did.

Just before Tony goes to poke him, or kick him in his foot, Steve lowers his feet to the ground and jumps up, grinning and sweaty, “Hey.”

Tony would reply, with a normal, human comment, and/or greeting, but he’s too busy staring at his chest, and for all the wrong reasons, YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPAGANDA.

Steve notices, and the light flush from exercise deepens, “It was a gag gift. From Nat.”

“Well,” Tony says, against his better judgement, “it’s not wrong.”

The thing is, they are friends, pretty good ones now, at that, but Tony has an incredibly difficult time being in public with someone who wears jeans that tight.

“Aren’t your balls like, crushed?” Tony asks, as they’re walking through the park, because that’s just something they do now.

“You’re awfully concerned with my balls,” Steve comments, taking a long lick of his ice-cream.

“I’m just saying!” Tony defends. Steve just laughs, and overly assures him that he definitely believes him. Totally.

Tony attempts to reach up to tug a leaf off a branch to throw at Steve, because, for your information, he thinks about his ass far more than his balls, but, even on his tiptoes he can’t reach it, and he’s not about to make a fool of himself jumping to reach a branch.

Steve laughs even more, and even Tony’s man enough to admit that he lost all of his dignity in the 90s, so jumping to get a leaf to throw at his no good, very bad friend is barely news. So he does. And, predictably, he falls.

And less predictably, just as he readies himself for mud-covered Armani (because, whilst Steve is young enough to dress like a fuckboy, Tony, unfortunately, is a rich businessman who has to look the part (not that he’d particularly want to have to spray-paint on his jeans every morning (not that he’s allowed to wear jeans to board meeting, because, ‘Tony, you’re older now, and they expect something from you’)), and he cannot, and just as he should hit the ground, Steve’s around him, arms bracing him, strong and sure.

Steve’s lips quirk up into a smile, boyish and joyful, and the sun shining down from above highlights his hair in a way that makes Tony think, not for the first time, that Steve’s been sent down from heaven, for god knows what reason, because there’s no logical way that someone that good, someone so unpolluted in the face of all he’s had to fear, comes from humanity and-- oh fuck.

“I’m surprised you can bend like that in those jeans,” Tony says, too softly to pretend that’s all that’s running through his mind.

“I’m Superman,” Steve says, cheekily, rightening them both, and maybe it’s just Tony’s imagination, but he seems to linger longer than should be necessary. But he moves away, and the moment is broken, less like shattering glass and more like chalk falling barely a foot, broken beyond repair, but not the end of the world, which, in their careers, is a damn good place to be.

Tony takes it all back.

“You’ve never followed an instruction in your life, one day that might just end it,” Steve growls, still in uniform, because they saved New York again, and they’re fighting about god knows what, because god knows why.

“Don’t pretend to be concerned about my life when all you really care about is controlling the team, your perfect little soldiers,” Tony hisses.

Steve glowers even more. “Stop twisting my words.”

“Stop making bullshit calls,” Tony counters.

“It’s not bullshit and you know it.”

He’s not even loud, or explosive, like Tony, then, he’s quiet, still, unbelievably angry, but calm. And something about that lights a fire inside Tony, unstable and destructive.

“They never should have pulled you from the ice if all you’re good for is pure bullshit!”

For one, rage-coloured, gleeful, glorious moment, Tony revels in where he’s clearly managed to get a hit on him: his face lights with anger, the calm from earlier rapidly fades away, practically melting off his face.

And then his face, his body, his entire demeanour drop heavily, a slave to gravity, like the common man, like a puppet torn from its strings. The guilt floods into Tony’s system milliseconds before Steve turns on his heel and walks out without another word.

Tony realises, after he’s put himself in blackout mode, that the fight hadn’t changed a thing about the other day - Steve was always going to be ridiculously infuriatingly stubborn, hell, that’s why he’s so impossibly infatuated with him, he never gives up, never runs away, never stops, and for him to not fight Tony… he’s fucked up. Bad.

“Sir, if I may, an apology may be due,” and isn’t that sad, his AI had to listen to him rant aloud and then urge him to show basic human decency and at least attempt to preserve a relationship (one that’s somehow, sometime, become to absurdly important to Tony, the more he thinks of it, the more he wants to deck his old self in the nose (and if he ever did make a time machine, he knows that the punch he’d throw would be perfect form, thanks to Steve’s tutelage)).

“Yeah. Yeah,” Tony says heavily.

Unsurprisingly, JARVIS directs Tony toward the gym, where Steve’s beating apart a punching bag. He’s taken off the top part of his uniform and left it hanging around his waist, undershirt soaked through with sweat, hiding the aggregate sum of none of the strength contained in his muscles.

Even stripped down like this, the suit dirty and torn, no shield, no cowl in sight there’s no denying his raw power.

“Hey,” Tony starts, “what I said was uncalled for.”

Steve only stills his barrage when Tony began to speak, even though he must have heard him come in, but he doesn’t turn around.

“I… I’m not unaware of my flaws, Tony,” Steve says quietly, still not facing him, “nor do I believe that you’re needlessly reckless with your life.”

Tony takes a minute to process that. The air is still between them, rebuilding after the storm. They’ve gotten delightfully efficient at rebuilding, and with better adapted infrastructure, it doesn’t take long, but it still destroys something, still hurts a little.

“I’m glad that you were found,” Tony replies, this is the closest they’ve come to saying the forbidden ‘sorry’ aloud, and even though Steve’s the one to be facing away now, Tony knows that, had Steve been looking at him, whichever expression, he would be the one to turn away.

Small steps.

Steve nods, a sharp, short downward jerk of his head, and Tony takes that as his signal to leave, feeling lighter all for it. Maybe his earlier assessment of Steve has been right.

“I want you to know,” Tony starts, just as they’re about to initiate what’s definitely going to be the most violent game of 6 people water polo that’s ever conspired, “that this is one, an awful idea, and two, going to flood this entire floor.”

“You can sit out, if you really want to,” Steve suggests, partly out of care, partly because it would disadvantage their team.

Tony laugh aloud at that, “Absolutely not, you know I’d never pass up an opportunity to beat your ass, Rogers.”

“I thought you weren’t immune to it,” Steve says, grinning back.

Thor looks supremely confused, “Your humans’ trash talk is not dissimilar to Asgardians’ courting.”

“It’s not human’s trash talk,” Natasha says, tossing the ball between her hands, “it’s just Steve and Tony trash talk.”

Both of them, in displays of the utmost maturity, splash her with water.

JARVIS takes that as a cue to start the game timer, and it’s just as aggressive and chaotic as Tony thought - what else would you get from pitting four of the most capable humans in Northern America against a god and a guy who pretty much qualifies?

It’s water and it’s violent, two things which, historically, hadn’t been the greatest of situations for Tony, but there’s no point during this where he feels unsafe, or out of control (quite possibly losing, definitely).

He’s not nearly as ashamed as he should be to admit that he spent most of the time wrestling Steve.

He was fine during the beginning - when Steve’s waist was below the surface, and he was too busy staring at his face and chest, but after he’d jumped high enough that his feet were out the water, and he’d exposed those illegally tight speedos…

It made no sense whatsoever, all of them, bar Nat, were wearing regular, normal, socially acceptable, swimwear that didn’t expose just how big their dicks were, and he knows with relative certainty that they didn’t have speedos in the 40s, so where he got them fr-- Natasha.

“We only lost,” Tony says, panting, “because your speedos were a distraction.” Everyone else had gone to the showers, reluctantly congratulating Steve and Thor, and deciding on a rematch, leaving Steve and Tony in the pool, treading water in the shallower end.

“Would you rather I take them off?”

Tony looks at him, expecting at least that adorable light flush on his cheeks, but all he gets is a grin see-sawing the line between cheeky and joking and a proposition.

“I’d hate to miss out on you finally finding your true style,” Tony replies, matching him in tone.

Steve’s laugh echoes off the tiles, and Tony just has to kiss him, he just has to crash into him with absolutely no abandon, feeling reminiscent of his teen years, kissing in a pool, tugging off Steve’s ridiculous shorts.

Through half-lidded eyes, Steve tracks him up and down once he’d ripped off Tony’s swim shorts, breathing hard, “You should never wear clothes again,” he declares, sinking to his knees. Any and all thoughts of Steve and his questionable-at-times fashion choices leave Tony’s mind along with most forms of higher function.

masterpost

#steve rogers x tony stark #stevetony #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #my fic #my writing #happystevebingo #happy steve bingo #steve x tony #steve rogers/tony stark

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ticklybtswriter · 5 years

Text

the monster

summary: sometimes jungkook gets tired, but not the kind of tired where the first thing you want to do is sleep. no, the kind of tired where all he wants to hear is your laughter and your laughter alone.

request: Hi hi! I love your blog and I wanted to request something! Can you do a Jungkook x Reader fic? I have no particular idea in mind so the plot is all yours lol Thank you so much! and Can you do a fic of the Jungkook t-word monster scenario from your headcanons? Of course you don't have to if you don't want to since you just fed us a big and AMAZING headcanon.

author’s note: i’m not feeling myself tonight so i thought writing this would make me feel a bit better. it isn’t as long as i wanted it to be but i hope you all enjoy it nevertheless!! -rosalie

Honestly, Jungkook was just tired. Well, tired and frustrated. The day had been long and filled with as much work as humanly possible. All he really wanted to do was go home and unwind. The only issue is that his version of unwinding is your version of pure torture.

You weren’t prepared for it when he got home. You were simply reading a book while soft music played from your phone when he stepped into your room.

You glanced up from the pages, seeing his tired eyes. You asked, “Long day?”

He nodded. Jungkook saw your form, all unknowing and innocent, and he couldn’t help but smile at you. But it wasn’t that cute little bunny smile that he flashed you all the time; it was that one that you knew all too well... The one right before his trained fingers attached to your sides.

“Jungkook, no-” Your wide eyes only egged him on.

“Jungkook yes!” He smirked, throwing himself on the bed.

You were already giggling as he began pinning you down. This was one of his favorite parts of wrecking you: the act of wrestling with you until you ultimately were stuck beneath him, hands over your head and hips held together as he straddled you. All the while, you’d be giggling underneath him, throwing empty threats or pleading while not really wanting to be released.

“I missed my squirmy bunny today!” Jungkook told you, his fingers already working your shirt up to your chest. “And I especially missed your precious giggles! You’ll give me some of those, won’t you?”

Jungkook didn’t give you much of a choice in the matter before he started to lightly trail his fingers across the exposed skin of your bare stomach.

“J-Jungkook!” You squeaked.

“Mmmm, no,” He hummed. He leaned close to your ear, lightly blowing on it so you could get into a full lee-mood in half the time. “Not Jungkook. You know who I am, little bunny~”

“Plehehease!” You practically begged. Not even just because you wanted the tickles, but because you knew he didn’t plan to start totally wrecking you until you called him that dreaded name.

“You know the rules, bunny!” Jungkook said with a mixture of authority and playful mockery.

Damn, right you knew the rules. Mostly because those rules were designed in a way that thoroughly wrecked you into oblivion. However, the most common rule utilized in these life-destroying sessions was what you were told to call Jungkook. If you didn’t call him his desired name, you would be stuck in the exact state you were in now: ticklish agony without getting attacked in the way you wanted to be.

Still, you knew that this wasn’t a game you couldn’t win. You swallowed your pride and giggled out a “Tihihickle mohnsteher, plehehase!”

Satisfied, Jungkook started to use his free hand to dig into your sides. You instantly broke out into another fit of loud giggles, all while trying to instinctively squirm from the ticklish onslaught.

“Nohoho, thihis meeean!” You whined.

“No, this is mean,” Jungkook simply told you as he began to nuzzle at your sensitive neck while moving his fingers across your tummy.

You were fighting against his movements as best as you could, but the difference in strength was evident. Another thing that was clear was that you weren’t going anywhere until Jungkook- sorry, the tickle monster- declared that he was through with you. Not that you entirely minded. He didn’t need to know that though.

But, of course, he already did. That’s why he took such pride in being able to destroy you with a single hand. While his head was still occupied in brushing his nose against your ticklish neck, his hand traveled to your exposed underarm. He began scribbling at the skin there, taking in every little plea and laugh.

“Ahahaha! Nohohot there, Kohohokie! I mehehean t-t-tihickle monsther!”

As a silent punishment for calling him the incorrect name, Jungkook’s index finger suddenly dipped into your belly button. He swirled it around teasingly, makings sure to pull out every octave of laughter he could from you. Mostly because your high-pitched squeals of surprise were his favorite.

“Ah! Stohohap! This ihis unfahahaiiiir!”

He didn’t say anything in response, he merely kept on smirking.

One of the worst things about Jungkook, when he got into his ler mood, was the fact that he rarely spoke. The reality of it was that he just enjoyed savoring your unending laughter. It was like music to him, and who was he to interrupt such a beautiful symphony? Especially one that was all for him.

That didn’t always stop him from giving sly little comments whenever you said something borderline bratty to him, though.

“Yohohou are such ahaha jeheherk!” You insulted. Though you instantly wanted to take it back as soon as the words left your lips. “N-No! Wahait!”

“Calling the tickle monster a jerk, huh?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Okay, let’s see how you feel when I go for these feet of yours.”

In a quick motion, Jungkook let go of your hands and turned so that your thighs were pressed tightly against his calves. He gripped your ankles together with one hand while letting his other softly spider across any inch of skin he could get to on your foot.

“NOhoho! I’m sohohohry!”

“Sorry to who, though?”

“Tohoho the tihihck- NO!”

Your words were cut short when Jungkook hit that sensitive spot on your foot, right beneath the big toe and where you knew he’d be spending a lot of time.

“That’s not going to work, little bunny!”

And once again you were caught in one of Jungkook’s rigged games. He knew that you weren’t going to get the words out, he was so sure of it. Perhaps that’s another thing that comes with the ler Jungkook: when it comes to wrecking you, he’s always sure.

You were stuck in that predicament for what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. All the while you were attempting to sputter out an apology that would be ruined by Jungkook aiming for the most sensitive spots he could reach. It wasn’t until he had a little mercy on you that you were freed from your ticklish heaven hell.

He moved from your sensitive zones and opted to light tickle at a giggle-area without venturing into non-ticklish territory.

“So?” Jungkook asked expectantly.

“Ihihihm sorry tihihickle mons-monstheher!”

Once you apologized, Jungkook started to lighten up on his attack. He was nowhere near done with you, but he figured that a breather was in order. So he got off your legs and crawled over to your heaving form before taking you in his arms so you could relaxingly calm down. He smiled at your tired and flushed form. “You alright?”

It took you a second to get past the cute bouts of excess giggles, but you finally told him, “Yeheah.”

“Good,” He nodded. “Ready for round two?”

#bts tickle fic #tickle fic #bts x reader #ler!jeon jungkook x lee!reader #ler!jungkook #lee!reader #jeon jungkook x reader

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crowstan · 4 years

Text

How I see each house due to my friends

A side note before I begin: I can Not spell, so you will see me using different words throughout this, instead of my usual speaking words that I Can pronounce, so apologies for that lmao. The order of each section will be: ravenclaw, slytherin, hufflepuff, gryffindor, and outliers. The outliers get their own category because I refuse to put them with the rest of the data, you’ll see why.

Ravenclaw:

The people:

Leave her johnny, leave her: A good friend, we talk about stuff sometimes. Usually it’s her talking about legend of Zelda. I quite like her.

A pal: From India. Their English isn’t the best, but I can still understand them. Likes to talk about Disney movies and how Elsa deserves a girlfriend, and has called Disney a coward many times because they most likely won’t give her one.

Great British Bake off: From Brittan. Where, I have no clue. Likes to talk about how the law and justice system needs to be changed, and about her family sometimes, usually when prompted. I have no idea what she’s talking about half the time because I’m American, and that sometimes leads to funny misunderstandings.

Done with school: We haven’t talked a lot, but lives in the same state as me. Is completely done with their schoolmates, their school, the teachers, and with life. Often jokes about wanting to become a 7/11 crypt.

Wholesome: We talked for a while, and then somehow our conversation got deleted and I haven’t been able to find them since. Really like astronomy, and told me cool facts about the horoscopes, galaxies, and even a bit about stars. I miss them :,(

In conclusion: Ravenclaws most likely have a passionate topic they know a lot about, and are eagerly willing to share every bit of knowledge they have to teach you about it. They may even ramble about the topic for no reason and without prompting. They also really like learning for the sake of learning, and usually despise school because it “ruins learning” (source: me, Leave her johnny leave her, Great British Bake off, Done with school). Can sometimes lack common sense and “smarts” in some subjects, but excel in others. Also usually lgbt+ or a huge supporter of lgbt+ rights, and other rights movements such as black lives matter. I generally vibe with them very well.

Slytherin:

The people:

Bestie in the form of three ounces of whoop-ass: My best friend! We talk about psychology, mental health, psychological disorders, the apocalypse, and religion quite a bit. Some defining traits she has is: willing to fight for the smaller/weaker person, has good morals, is a chaotic neutral, a moral grey character, loves bloody anime and vocaloid.

Laid back: No offense to him, but he’s not the brightest. Can be snarky at times, but is usually more willing to let others do the talking and observe. Also may possibly be a people pleaser but I haven’t done much looking into that. Tbh I’m kinda scared of him.

Quakeing: Has adhd. Can sometimes be a dick, but it’s usually not intentional. Is actually pretty good at debate, not sure if she knows it. Is almost the perfect human version “Yes, BUT-” and “So?”

In conclusion: Mostly crackheads. Are also good friends. Some are trustworthy, some are not, just always be cautious.

Hufflepuff:

The people:

Owo?: Very soft. Doensnt really like conflict that much. Will fight you if you’re mean to yourself. Has talked me out of doing various... “Experiments”, especially the kind involving people in any way or involving scissors. Would not let me try to make an airplane out of playing cards. She does encourage my writing, and sometimes likes it. Is very positive.

In conclusion: A mom friend that won’t let me do anything I consider “fun”. Often passive, but cares about their friends, and won’t let them do anything that could result in even a potential scratch. Very nice to be around, hufflepuffs have calm vibes. They simply radiate calm. I have not met one that didn’t, tbh.

The people:

I call them K because I can’t spell their name right and at this point I’m too afraid to ask: Likes to be in charge. We don’t talk much, but they do have some dumbass/crakhead energy from what I can tell. May be a facade. Can be a little hot headed but mostly isn’t, haven’t seen them get too mad. Yet.

In conclusion: Somehow the only gryffindor I’ve met? I don’t know enough of these people to make any actual claims, because it could be a gryffindor thing or a personal thing, and I have no way of telling.

Outliers:

Furry: Hufflepuff. Excluded because they took too long to reply. Also a dumbass. Isn’t into harry potter but says that from what she was told, hufflepuff is the windclan of hogwarts. I have no idea what that means.

An ex long gone: Slytherclaw like me. Didn’t want to put him on the list twice, plus he fucked up all my data. Claimed that he hates anyone who lies, proceeded to lie to me, and then claimed he was doing the right thing. I only cut him off recently. he also frequently talked down to me like I was a dumb child. I did enjoy his company but in hindsight I really shouldn’t have had. Added him because he’s the only person that has the same 50/50 house mix as me.

The shape of friend: I think their house is hufflepuff? They wear a lot of hufflepuff merch, and are really sweet and loyal. Honestly, a good person, too pure. I really like them, even if we don’t talk a lot. Also somewhat shy. Didn’t add because I’m not actually sure of their house, and I didn’t want any of the sections to be inaccurate.

Is this even human?: An online friend. Doesn’t like to stick to one house, prefers to switch houses based off of mood and what they’re doing at the moment. Shouldn’t even be on this list but I thought I should add them anyway. Can barely function as a human, forgets to eat sometimes, has spent a full day and a half sleeping. Honestly, a whole ass mood.

Final thoughts: Most of my friends fit their stereotypes, and have a few bits in common that I, ultimately, associate with each house. This is in no way accurate to each house, as I can sometimes perceive things wrong (Example: this semester in science, in which I thought I understood earths plate movement, only to fail my test because apparently, what I had gathered was incorrect, even though it was what was taught). Anyway, this was quite fun to put together, and I quite enjoyed being able to do this.

#slytherclaw #slytherin #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #gryffindor #im sorry yall

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achingsunflowers · 4 years

Text

i was manipulated

I’m not much of a writer, I’m much more a poet. Long well-thought out sentences never work well for me, but little short phrases that express how I feel usually work so much better in helping me to process my hurt. But for some reason that’s not been useful for me at all. I broke up with my ex about 6 weeks ago now and even though my world shouldn’t feel different at all, everything has changed. My ex was my favourite person in the entire world, I wanted to spend most of my time with them, I knew I wanted them to be in my life forever, I’d hoped it would be in a romantic capacity. We would have moved into a house somewhere in the countryside, adopt cats and dogs, and eventually adopt kids together. I’d built an entire life with them where I didn’t hurt anymore, far away from all the people who had ever hurt me, who had ever wanted to hurt me, far away from every place that housed painful memories within their walls. I gave everything to them, every ounce of the energy I had went to them, and I happily gave it all up. I thought that’s how relationships were meant to be, I gave 100% and shouldn’t have expected anything back. I shouldn’t have needed to expect it! 25% some days, maybe 50% on a good day, but it was okay. I had enough for the both of us! I was so very wrong.

Even as I write this, I’m thinking of how they would react if they read it, how they wouldn’t agree or how they would show their friends this and argue that I am painting them in an incorrect light, what I am saying isn’t true to the situation, that I’m overreacting or twisting the truth to suit my own agenda. And that’s so wrong. I should not have to tiptoe around someone who is living in my mind rent-free, should not be shielding their feelings in any way, shape or form from the truth. And this is how I know I was in a manipulative relationship, or at the very least, I was manipulated.

I didn’t recognise I was in a manipulative relationship until it was pointed out to me, and this seems to be a common theme of people in manipulative relationships. I was once asked if I thought they were manipulative, and I said no! I did not feel manipulated at all, had never seen any manipulative behaviour from them, so how on Earth could I think they were manipulative? This question stemmed from something their previous ex had said about them, and if I agreed with them, I was in massive trouble. Even if I had felt manipulated, how could I answer that question truthfully? They were very insecure about this ex, did not understand why they had been blocked from their life without any reasonable explanation, and so reacted in a way that they thought was appropriate as a result of this. (I recognise that is very vague, however I made a promise to myself that I will never expose intimate details about somebody’s life as it detrimental and unkind). And as such, this ex was intertwined within a much bigger situation. And so, asking them to not bring up their ex was completely out of the realm of possibility. Iwas then accused of telling them not to speak about the much bigger situation by asking them to not talk about this ex. I had asked them not to talk about this ex as it felt as though I was constantly being compared to them which was not good for me (as it would not be for many people).

It started with the little things, the smallest of things that my friends picked up on. “You seem sad, what’s happened?” “What’s happened now?” “You argued again? About what?” These questions were constantly asked, and I always had excuses. I ranted and raved to them, then got side-lined by my feelings (and calls and texts asking if we can just sort it out). “It’s just because I’m stressed.” “Things will be better when we see each other!” “I’m just frustrated because I miss you so much.” Pointless arguments. Constant crying. But it was all fine because we always sorted it out, we told each other no more arguments, this was the last straw. No more “second chances”.

My friends would ask me if I was happy, and I can say that I was. 100%. I was very happy, but I felt myself slipping. I felt pieces of myself disappearing, aspects of my life that used to make me happy no longer did. I withdrew from my friends; they didn’t understand that I love them! They didn’t see the parts I did, the loving, caring parts. The parts that would listen to me sob in the middle of the night, the parts that would tell me how much they loved me, how much I meant to them, how I was their soulmate and that they didn’t realise what love was until they met me. If I could show them those parts, then of course they would accept the relationship and accept that I was happy!

I withdrew from my family, going home for the weekend only to spend most of my time with my ex. I missed important moments, but it was okay! They asked me to spend time with my family and it was my choice not to! I now wish I had spent more time with my family, they missed me so much and I was so blinded by my love that I didn’t recognise that they need to be a priority. After spending all day with my ex, I was made to feel awful about the fact that I didn’t want to fall asleep on the phone with them. It was a “tradition” that we had forged together, one that was sacred to them, but was draining for me. Spending time with my family in the evenings was off-limits, them going to bed early to seemingly spite me. Or saying they were going to bed so I should call them to say goodnight. Only to end up on the phone with them until it would just be silly to stay up and do something with my family, so “might as well” just go to bed at the same time as them. I now recognise that I was manipulated into believing that I had the choice, any decision that I made was heavily influenced by them. And it should not have been.

Manipulated is a big word, but the research that I have done after the fact leads me to believe that I was manipulated, or there was an element of manipulation present within the relationship. I was essentially isolated, feeling guilty for spending time with my friends or going out with my friends. I was not wearing clothes that they liked when I went out, them saying they “trusted me but not other people”. Them saying that they didn’t think my friends liked them, until I stopped spending as much time as I would’ve liked with them. I was once asked if I had logged into their accounts without them knowing, them saying they trusted me but “just wanted to make sure”. I often felt as though I was going insane, began doubting my own sanity at times as I was being gaslighted, about the smallest things. “No, you didn’t tell me that.” “You’ve only told me about that once.” “You have never brought that up in an argument before.”. There were a lot of other more intimate situations were I was felt as though I was being manipulated however this is too hard for me to talk about right now. All of these things being small in isolation, but once you see the bigger picture, it becomes all so much clearer.

Their friends think I am crazy, think that I am irresponsible and do not own up to mistakes that I have made and accept responsibility. And they are entitled to this opinion. I believe that with the information they possess about me, that is a logical conclusion to come to. But the issue is that all the information that they have access to and have had access to is through my ex. The limited interactions I have had with their friends does not yield for an impressive cache of information about me straight from the source. I got yelled at by one of their friends, and she demanded that I give her my address so that my things could be given back to me. Now this invasion of privacy may sound insane, however this is something that I am used to. Shortly after the breakup, information about my eating disorder was given to the friend in question. And when confronted about it, excuses were made, and a half apology was given. The point must be made that if my ex was able to so freely give out that kind of information after the breakup, what kind of information was being given while we were together? An intimate situation like an eating disorder was clearly not off limits, the question of what would have been off-limits needs to be posed. Where was the line drawn? What was just knowledge to be freely tossed into everyday conversation?

My feelings were seemingly too much, I can think of many moments where my feelings were pushed aside and dwelled on as an afterthought, or not dwelled on at all. When this was brought up, it was my fault and among all the sobs I heard from them, I believed I was being too harsh and that it was not fair that I was also side-lining their feelings. But eventually I recognised that this was wrong, and I did not stand for it any longer. I suppose I should have realised there was a problem then and there, when the times that I had said “I didn’t want to tell you this before, but I need to talk about it” piled up like things on my to-do list. Or when the times that I lay crying silent tears in bed turned from every once in a while, to every couple of weeks to most days. It was a problem that I refused to accept, despite my friends telling me that I needed to recognise it as the bad sign it was. I also remember of a moment a few days before our breakup where a comment about me wearing a dress that I loved so much was made, I will never forget the sinking feeling when I heard it, and the echoes of the recognising signs of an abusive relationship talk that I had rang loud, more distant echoes of a talk I had a school ringing warning bells in my head. It was brushed off as quickly as I brought it up, told that I needed to stop being so mopey and that I was ruining the night by being sad. Rushed sympathetic looks from me and I pulled myself together. It was like that for a lot of things, I recognise this now. I am disappointed with myself, “I am a nurse for crying out loud” I scream to myself. “This should not have happened to me!” I cry in a pillow. “I should’ve known better.” I deadpan to friends.

As I said earlier, I was so happy most of the time. I do not wish to convey that I wasn’t, there were many good times and they weren’t manipulative all the time. I was in control at times, I made mistakes, I fucked up, I was an awful person. I am not saying that this person is bad, I am not saying that their heart is devoid of love, I do believe that good people can do bad things, but that does not mean that they are 100% bad. There are many happy memories that I will cherish, many times where I felt as though I had found the right person for me, that I had found my soulmate. And I will never forget or regret all the times we spent together in each other’s company, content and not wanting for a single thing. In the beginning we spent hours just talking about anything, I would laugh and laugh and feel as though I was the luckiest person in the world. I had never smiled bigger, I had prayed for happiness and God had given me what I had wanted, with the addition of another person who could love me with all their heart. My point is, I had never known joy like it, but I had also never felt heartache like it. The highs and the lows were deafening. But the highs were there, so I did believe that they were worth all the lows.

I feel guilt even after the breakup, so much so that I felt sick with grief and guilt because of what I had done. I was the one to have finished things completely (although we do not agree on that detail) and as such held a lot of guilt for being the one to turn my back on the relationship so to speak. This guilt continued as I tried to be friends with them, all coming to a head when a talk in a coffee shop lead to a screaming match and them storming off. A further continuation during a text message conversation where I was made to feel guilty about the fact that they are “crying all the time”, worrying that they will never “be happy again” or “fall in love again” or “be intimate with anyone ever again.”. One of the last text messages them apologising for “if they’ve ever made me feel guilty”. I responded with an appropriate “it’s not IF you ever did, you did.” It was very hard for me to have a backbone, I worried that I was being too harsh for days after the fact. Suffice to say, we no longer speak. I even feel guilty for having written this, for even considering putting it online for others to see. I suppose there is no reason for me to put this online but perhaps I need to. Perhaps it will help someone else that may be in a relationship where objectively they are happy, but they are worried about things. Or they do not know if they are being manipulated. Perhaps this can help someone make the first step towards leaving a relationship that is unhappy. Perhaps this can help someone talk to friends and family or someone they trust about their worries.

The thing I must stress is that there is no blanket definition for a manipulative relationship, but there are a multitude of resources that can help you take the right steps if you are worried or scared in your relationship.

All of this leads me to say that I am hoping to not have anger anymore, not to hold on to the things that keep me awake up night, the things that I worry about for future relationships. I am scared to even entertain the idea of being with another person, for someone to know the ins and outs of my life, scared to smile for fear that I’m doing something wrong, or disappointing someone. I can let go of the anger, but it’s the anxiety that I don’t think I can let go of. Or the immense sadness that I feel when I hear their name, the nauseous feeling I get when I remember the bad times, or the happiness I felt when I woke in the middle of the night to see them next to me. My bed feels bigger somehow, like there’s too much room. No longer am I cramped up against a wall but habit dictates that I somehow wake up pinned up or arms outstretched expecting to feel another body next to me. I almost feel guilty about the fact that I am dating, no dates just yet but I am speaking to people and expanding my horizons. I yearn for one person, but it is wrong for me to do so, and detrimental to the both of us, for I was not the best girlfriend, I had flaws of my own which I will not deny at all. I feel the anger inside of me but it’s not healthy for me to dwell on it, I felt the waves of anger crash and riddle my mind with thoughts, but the best thing for me to is to let it pass through as if it is a train not due to make a stop. I can see the thoughts and anger and recognise that they are there, but they do not need to be so prevalent within me. I have made my peace with everything that has happened, and I have learnt some very hard lessons. The only person I am to please now is myself, as much as it may hurt me to do so as I am a massive people pleaser.

So, even though I was in a manipulative relationship, it does not define me. It does not have to be my story; I don’t need to think about it ever again if I do not wish to. But what I will think about is red flags, and what I will do is listen to the people who I love and consider their opinion of anyone I wish to bring into my life. Most importantly, I will listen to myself and not let myself get into this position again, being much more careful with the people I allow to become close to and recognising that there are warning signs. I may miss the signs as I fall for this hypothetical person, but hopefully as I listen to my friends and listen to my own gut, I won’t ignore them when they scream out at me. My manipulative relationship was full of great times as well as bad times and so I didn’t realise that it was happening, it does not have to be all tears and arguments for it to be manipulative, or controlling or abusive.

I finish this with something I read as I was researching, anyone can fall into a manipulative relationship, no matter how smart, savvy or feminist you are - and realising that you’re in one doesn’t make you any less smart, savvy or feminist. It is not a reflection on me that this happened, and it is not my fault that this happened. It will never be my fault.

#manipulation #relationship #manipulative relationship #control #healing

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