#every time someone says something like this i get a little bit meaner to t*ilgate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

channiebbang · 3 years

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bet

synopsis: sometimes love is never meant to be. no matter how much you want it. y/n learns this the hard way when seungmin confesses he never loved her.

characters: Seungmin, Han, Main Character

pairing: douchbag!Seungmin x girlfriend!maincharacter

genre: angst

word count: 2.8k

warnings: will hurt your heart and you will want to whack seungmin at some point lol

author’s note: uuuuu i’m really proud of this one. i remember i wrote this out of anger lmaoo i was so over seungmin always being the goody two shoes and always being this innocent dumb boy that i was like ‘fuck it imma write about him being an asshole’ and so i did lol i hope this is as fun to read as it was for me to write, enjoy! 💛

The cold air blew the loose hair around her face across her cheeks, the rest wrapped safely in a loose ponytail.

The spring wind felt relaxing, serene and calm, too calm. Too calm for the situation she was in, the silence around her deafening.

It was too quiet, the ringing that was picking up in her ears proof of that. She didn't know if she was even breathing.

Her glistening eyes were fixed on the boy in front of her, the boy she thought she knew all to well. But did she? Because in a matter of seconds he was a stranger.

She didn't know if she heard him right, she didn't know if he even said anything at all. She didn't know anything anymore. But the scoff he let out, breaking the overbearing silence, was answer enough. The answer was yes, she heard him right and yes, he had said something.

Although she wished she didn't and he hadn't.

She knew she should've felt cold in her light, loose, V neck crop t-shirt and high waisted trousers, but weirdly enough the wind kept her cooled off, as if the elements wanted to console her. Comfort her breaking heart, calm her down.

She breathed in slowly through her nose, lips parted, regaining control over he swirling emotions. She wasn't going to cry.

And even if she was hurt, in pain and struggling to breathe in and out properly she tried to comfort herself. She told herself she knew this was coming, she knew this was going to happen, she knew something was off.

She knew Kim Seungmin was just playing with her.

She focused on him again. She cursed at whoever was in charge up there for making him so good-looking, so easy going, so likable, so lovable and so comfortable to be around.

She cursed at herself for knowing what was happening and still losing herself in him. Drowning in the siren that was Kim Seungmin.

"So? Are you just going to stand there?" He taunted snapping her out of her thoughts.

She blinked a couple of times, eyes shifting around herself. They were seemingly stood alone, but she knew better, for she knew whenever she was with him they were never alone. After all, you can't play with someone without proof, right?

The only person she could be mad at was herself. So she smiled, her lips stretched ever so gently, her hands coming in front of her chest to hold onto the strap of her bag, resting against her hip.

Seungmin's eyes looked at her confusedly, she was smiling. Not even 5 minutes ago he had told her she meant nothing to him, that the past eight months meant nothing to him but a measly deal with his friends.

And she was smiling. Why?

"What do you want me to say, Seung?" She looked at him again, her eyes back to how they usually are. Bright, smiling, not glistening. Her smile never faltering.

The brunette, stood a few meters away from her, frowned. This was not the reaction he was looking for nor the one he expected.

He was annoyed, she had to stop acting so nice all the time. She needed to stop acting like a goody two shoes constantly. It was driving him insane, why can't she just get mad and scream?

He had broken her heart, for fuck's sake, give some reaction.

Seungmin looked around himself exasperated, not looking for anything in particular. He frustratingly ran his fingers through his hair, a harsh scoff leaving his lips. Unbelievable.

"Can you drop the act?" He spoke harshly, a strain to his voice. He didn't know why he was getting so worked up. He could've left, really. He had to just break the news to her and he could've left. But he didn't. His meaner side wanted to see her reaction, hoped she had one.

He hoped to see her riled up, angry, even crying. Maybe throwing a fit about how rude and mean and evil he was. He wanted to hear what the previous air headed bitch had yapped at him when he dumped her ass. How she gave her all to him, how he broke her heart, how she would take her revenge on him.

But he was frustrated, so fucking much. Because the girl in front of him did none of that, and to be completely honest, Seungmin felt robbed of his entertainment. So he huffed out a breath again, eyes trained on the girl as she stared at him. Smiling. And it pissed him off so much.

"I don't know what you expect me to do, Seung. There's nothing much I can do about all of this. What we had was fake, I get it, there's nothing I can do to change it. No matter what my reaction is, things won't change," she spoke softly, and Seungmin felt like she was mocking him.

Her smile was mocking him, her understanding eyes were mocking him, her soft voice was mocking him. It seemed like he had just told her about his day and not that he had been faking it all along. He groaned frustrated.

"Oh my God! Fucking do something, I don't know! Why are you just standing there?" He raised his voice a little, he watched as she took a small step back. That was the only movement from her. If he had not paid attention to that he wouldn't have even noticed any change in her.

"You want me to scream at you? Be angry? Cry? Fight?" She spoke, listing all the possibilities, and Seungmin found himself nodding, another groan leaving his lips.

"Yes! Do that, all of that," he desperately exclaimed, before continuing, "but don't just fucking stand there and act all nice and whatnot, stop smiling. The fuck are you smiling about? I just told you I was faking this relationship, I just told you it's over," he angrily spoke, his frustration getting the best of him.

Y/n calmly observed the guy, breathing heavily. She hated to admit that his revelation didn't change her feelings for him. Sure, she wasn't going to beg for his attention and his affection but she wasn't going to lie and say she didn't still love him. After all, Kim Seungmin was the perfect boyfriend throughout the whole ordeal.

His true colors were shown only now. And she understood how little she knew someone she claimed to love. She believed him when he said it was all fake. She didn't question anything. She didn't question all the sweet gestures he had shown, she didn't ask herself if those were fake too. They most certainly were, and she knew it.

She was just too stupid to see it.

"I'm not going to do any of that, Seungmin. Unlike yours, my feelings were real, I'm not going to question your feelings behind how caring you seemed to me, nor am I going to question the motive for what you did and I'm not going to ask what you gained from this either," y/n muttered, her smile gone. And Seungmin thought he was going to get the reaction he wanted, even if just a little bit. But he frowned deeply as he listened to her words.

"Why?" He asked, genuinely curious. Why didn't she want to know? Why was she so calm? Why. Is. She. Not. Reacting? He watched as she blinked at the ground a couple of times.

"I wasn't faking it. I know your feelings weren't real but mine were. I know the person you acted to be was not you, I know nothing was real. But I can't deny my feelings, so I would like to remember you as that person, I'll get over you better if I just pretend that things just didn't work out between us," she nodded as she concluded her words, her eyes looking up at him, the smile back on her lips.

Seungmin stared at her, lips parted, confused. He didn't know what she meant, at all. She wanted to pretend he didn't play with her feelings? Delusional.

"You are delusional," he spat out, lips formed into a snarl. The girl nodded, clicking her tongue.

"Perhaps, I am. That's okay with me," she smiled at him again. She could breathe fine again, the chilly breeze helping her.

He didn't know what he had to do to get a reaction out of her. So he just rambled nonsense.

"Every word I said was a lie, everything I did was planned out, nothing I did was genuine. It was all a game, everything was fake. Every kiss was fake, I never wanted to kiss you. Holding your hand was awful, I lied when I said I loved your hugs. I lied when I said I couldn't sleep without you in my arms. I hated it when you wore my clothes, I acted the whole time. I never wanted you around myself, all of it, every single instance was a lie, fake, awful," he spluttered out, one after another. He didn't know if he meant all of it, at this point he didn't even know what he was saying, he just wanted a reaction. He wanted her to stop being so nice and understanding.

When he looked back at the girl he knew he struck a chord because her smile was gone and a solemn expression graced her features.

He wouldn't say she looked like she was about to cry, no. Her eyes weren't glistening like they did when they watched sad movies. Her lips weren't downturned like they did when they'd have to leave the local pet cafè.

Her brows were pulled in just the slightest, her lips pursed in a small pout and her hands gripped the strap tightly. Disappointed. She was disappointed.

"I see," she nodded, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. Then her smile was back. Seungmin just stared at her.

"Well, I hope you accomplished whatever you were trying to do. I'll leave first," she spoke firmly, although she didn't feel one bit strong. In fact, she knew she was going to cry at some point, it was just a matter of when.

Seungmin watched her with narrowed eyes as she quickly closed the distance between them. His eyes widening in panic when her arms wrapped around his waist and her cheek rested against his shoulder as she pushed up on her feet a bit.

He was frozen in place, his arms on his sides as she hugged him tightly. He looked down at the girl against his chest, her head turned away from him. He couldn't understand.

And as much as he didn't want to believe it, Seungmin knew. He knew he wouldn't understand and he would remain in that state of confusion for a long time. He knew this would bother him every time it came to mind in the future. He knew that the unsettling feeling that grew throughout the whole time would haunt him every night.

When nobody kept him company but himself in his room, lying awake at night. Staring at the ceiling, he knew he would think back at this moment. And he will be confused. But he will not have any answer to why.

Why was she smiling? Why was she not crying? Screaming? Hitting him? Cursing him out? Why was she not asking for answers? Not believing this was happening? Why was she acting so understanding? Was she acting?

He will not know, and it will eat him alive. But for now, he just stared frozen at the girl that had her arms wrapped around him.

She loosened her arms and pulled her head back, looking up at him. A sad smile on her lips as she tried to take his beautiful features in, she looked down at her shoes, arms still loosely hanging around him, not holding as tightly anymore.

They were close. Too close. Close to the point where her forehead brushed against his chin. And Seungmin would've pulled away or pushed her away harshly if it were any other person but not y/n, for he was too busy being taken off guard tonight.

Y/n slowly brought her hands up to her neck, fingers barely touching the thin necklace resting against her collarbones. Seungmin watched her, not moving, as they stood so close. He didn't know why he wasn't pulling away, why he just stood there like a mannequin.

He watched as her fingers fumbled on the back of her neck, working the clasp of the necklace he had gifted her. The necklace that meant so much to him. Now that he thought about it, he didn't know why he had given it to her, but it had felt right when he did.

A light click was heard before she slowly brought the thin chain in front of her and gently took a hold of one of his hands. She turned it palm up and dropped the necklace.

She looked up, their eyes locking, and Seungmin flinched slightly from the abrupt strong gaze. But he stood still as her hands rested on his shoulders and she pushed on her tippy toes, her soft lips coming in contact with his jaw.

"Be happy, okay? Bye, Seungmo," she whispered against the skin, his nickname rolling off of her lips as she pulled away.

His eyes trained on her retreating figure, as she walked away.

She stopped briefly in front of a bench, where a lone figure sat, a newspaper in front of their face.

"You're wearing the hat I gave you, Jisung," she murmured smiling fondly at the boy with the puffed out cheeks as he stared at her from behind the newspaper, eyes wide and big. Y/n pinched his cheek flashing him a smile and before he could say anything, she was already walking down the street again.

Seungmin stared after her. He had broken up with her, told her about his ill intentions. Then why did it feel like he broke up a real relationship?

Jisung looked at his bestfriend, then back at y/n's retreating back, then again at his friend. He knew Seungmin like the back of his hand. And what he saw on his bestfriend's face wasn't the excitement and smirk he'd usually have after breaking the nth heart. Something different was in his eyes. His face morphed in what he could decipher only as confusion. But what has he confused of? Wasn't this the norm for the guy standing in the middle of the street?

"Yah, Kim Seungmin," Jisung called for his friend's attention standing up from the bench he was sitting on. He watched gaping as Seungmin's expression changed in less than a second. His confused stare gone as he rolled his eyes and chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

"Bro, you okay?" Jisung asked hesitantly, Seungmin shot him a confused look before smiling and stretching his arms over his head. A groan leaving his lips as he relieved his aching muscles. Damn this was exhausting.

"Peachy," he said, voice back to his cheery tone. He turned around walking to his car, his friend quickly following behind him.

"Sure?" Jisung asked after the both settled in the car, Seungmin turning on the ignition and pulling out of the parking spot. He chuckled humorously.

"Why wouldn't I be, rat?" He flashed a teasing smile at his bestfriend and that seemed enough to put Jisung's worries at rest. Not before a thought flashed in his mind though. Because for once it seemed like you were caught in the middle.

Y/n on the other hand was seconds away from crumbling, and she hoped that when she did she would be out of Seungmin's eyesight. She turned the corner at the end of the street and that's when she let herself fall to pieces.

She staggered a few steps before pressing her back against the cemented wall, the tears finally rolling down her cheeks as the back of her hand pushed against her lips, in an attempt to not let out any sounds.

She swallowed harshly, throat tightening, as she tried to stop herself from making any noise and not hiccupping.

She felt physical pain she didn't know was possible feeling from a heartbreak. Her chest hurt, the base of her neck feeling like someone had their hands wrapper around her throat and was slowly squeezing.

The muted out sobs that wrecked her body too painful to bear, but even then she forced herself to stand up straight and wipe her tears away.

What was gone, was gone. There was no point in feeling miserable, she could only pretend that the Seungmin she just faced wasn't real. She could pretend that her Seungmin was the ever so caring person she fell in love it.

And she knew she was delusional and she was stupid for thinking that, but if that was the only way she could feel better about herself, then so be it.

She would be delusional.

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vampiretickles · 3 years

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sk8 t-word headcanons

So,, episode 10 absolutely killed me!! I was in tears, and I’m so happy for them,,, and scared for episode 11.

Aaaaaanyways..

im a bit embarrassed to post this, but since theres basically no tickling content for them, i guess ill have to make some myself

this ended up being quite a long post haha

LANGA:

- absolute baby

- After hearing him laugh, Reki was definitely obsessed. I can imagine him just straight up asking him if he’s ticklish, and Langa says yes, because he’s oblivious.

- Que Reki tickling the shit outta him. Just taking in his beautiful laughter and cute smile

- Langa doesn’t mind it, as long as its from someone he likes, like Reki, Cherry, Joe, Shadow, or Miya

- gets cheerup tickles from Joe

- It definitely reminds him of good memories of his dad; he might get a bit emotional afterwards, but honestly it only makes him wanna be tickled more

- sides, ribs, armpits, thighs, are all very sensitive, but honestly tickling him anywhere would give him a reaction

- he definitely snorts, and can tolerate a lot of tickling

- As a ler, he probably just stares blankly for the most part, but if someone like Reki gives a cute reaction? God he’ll blush for days, and give a little smile

- laughs along with the lee

- he probably won’t do it too often, but if asked to tickle someone, he would be really chill and do it happily

- not much for teasing, at least not on purpose

- tickles Miya a lot

- gives Reki plenty of kisses when tickling him

- switch

REKI:

- a walking tickle spot

- absolute sunshine boy

- GOD his smile is precious and sweet, and his laugh sounds like honey, he radiates warmth

- I’d say his feet are the most sensitive, anything there will get him screaming

- he likes to laugh, and be close to people he likes. so yes, he definitely likes it

- loves hugs afterwards, no matter if hes lee or ler

- loves ticklish kisses on his neck from Langa

- soft tummy soft tummy

- raspberries make him go wild

- knees and thighs are totally ticklish

- he miiiight provoke people, puts his feet up, even over peoples laps, wears crop tops and stretches his arms up a lot, so his tshirt rides up and all his spots like armpits, sides, and tummy are right out in the open

- definitely gets tickled a lot by Joe or Cherry, for being silly or just because hes cute

- snorts, wheezes, everything. loud, very loud

- silliest most playful ler

- tickles Langa and Miya the most

- tells them how cute they are

- always laughs a long

- rapidly switches spots to get the lee giggling

- lots of verbal teasing

- total switch

- loves tickle fights

- tickles Miya to put the lil shit in his place

JOE:

- hes ticklish in a few places

- ya gotta really dig into his sides, to get sweet giggles

- his hips and neck are probably the most ticklish

- has very loud, bright, handsome, but boyish laughter

- cute and sweet smile

- he isn’t opposed to being tickled, but wouldnt provoke or ask for it... most of the time

- very much a dad to Reki, Langa, and Miya, he always tickles them

- he also tickles cherry a lot when they’re throwing insults and bickering

- but also because he loves hearing cherry laugh and struggle beneath him

- tickling his armpits lightly will turn him into a puddle of giggles

- snoorrttts

- He is definitely more of a ler, and a silly, dadlike, happy ler

-”oh it tickles does it? Here? oh and youre ticklish here as well?! does thiis tickle? wow kid, youre just a bundle of giggles”

- sucker for cute reactions

- stops when hes asked to, mostly

- good at restraining people, because of his strength

- gives the best hugs, in general, but especially after tickling someone

- especially melts when one of the kids disolves into bright, happy, cackles

- gives them a kiss on the forehead or cheek afterward

- pokes everyone, always

- he will find it funny if one of the kids, or even cherry tries to tickle him

- he lets them, but be prepared to get wrecked after

- he probably lets cherry tickle him the most... because he loves getting the attention from him

CHERRY:

- he is veerry ticklish

- he repsonds more to light tickles, harder ones will just hurt

- bratty lee, secretly loves it from Joe, but will never admit that (Joe is already well aware, and thinks its cute af)

- his armpits and belly are most ticklish, but is ticklish everywhere

- restrained, light giggles, until he reaches a certain point, where you get wheezy cackles and belly laughter

- gets very embarrassed when tickled. he also definitely cries of happiness

- kisses/raspberries on his tummy will leave him red, and giggling

- his bellybutton is definitely his worst spot, even blowing on it is enough to send him into hysterics

- he also finds back tickles relaxing, and he’ll giggle a bit. Softly tracing his tummy, is also relaxing, but way more ticklish

- has very ticklish toes

- he definitely provokes Joe to tickle him, by being slightly meaner than usual

- expects a massage and nice meal afterwards lol

- as a ler, he tickles the kids whenever they do something silly or stupid, as punishment

- he might tease them, mainly tells them off. Miya gets tickled for his attitude a lot by him

- he thinks they are adorable, but never shows it. he cares for them deeply :)

- pokes Joe when they bicker, turns into a tickle fight

- he thinks Joe has the sweetest laughter, like music to his ears

- very nimble and precise fingers, absolutely deadly.

- he thinks tickling is foolish, but when he finds out Reki likes it, he starts tickling him a lot more, and secretly thinks its sweet

- always has a small, but kind smile when he tickles people, even if it was as punishment

- although, when he was younger, he would straight up go to Joe, arms in the air, and blush, avoiding eye contact, until Joe figured it out and tickled him

- probs more of a lee

SHADOW:

- yeah he’s definitely ticklish, but he doesn’t let people know that

- basically ticklish everywhere

- he saaays he doesn’t like it, but who knows if thats true

-if its one of the kids, he will let them do it for a second, before tickling them to tears

- mean ler

- lots of taunts, like, ‘are you really gonna let me get ya without a fight?’ or ‘you sure are sensitive!’

- he goes right to their worst spot, loves hearing them scream

- If its with a partner, he definitely likes being tickled, and will melt into a blushy mess if he’s tickled

- sides, feet, thighs, knees, and probably shoulders are ticklish

- has a very goofy laughter, and is a bit embarrassed about it

- he probably almost never tickles Joe or Cherry

-if he found out you like being tickled, you will never hear the end of it.

- he will also tickle you a lot

- ler leaning

MIYA:

- Like I’ve mentioned, he always gets tickled for his attitude

- silly childish laugh

- very loud belly laughs, and screams a lot

- gets tickled the most by everyone

- bright and silly smile

- says he hates it, doesn’t really, but he likes playing mean

- ticklish everywhere, especially ribs and feet

- curls into a ball, and hisses like a cat when poked

- he also pokes others a lot

- he’s practically asking for it, 24/7

- loves to provoke people in every way possible

- he doesn’t tickle people much, but likes wrecking his slimes friends every once in a while

- a lee for sure

- expects candy right after being tickled

- mean and teasy

- he finds out Reki likes tickling, and bullies him for it. He isn’t actually mean about it, as he likes it just as much

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 tickling #tickle #tickling #tickling headcanons #woo first post #i hope someone enjoys these #this was fun for me to write

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

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v e l o c i t y - chapter ix

The one where John’s your true mate, but he doesn’t want you to be his.

In a universe where fate grants you a new mate whenever you lose yours, John has lived quite comfortably for many years with the knowledge that he was alone after Mary. That all comes crumbling down the second that he meets you. How could the universe choose someone so young to be his omega?

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: Okay so, my bad. One more chapter after this one!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I had a hard time sleeping since that night in the laundry room. Well, it was hard to go to bed alone, knowing only one wall separated me from John, knowing the only thing missing for him to claim me was time. He needed time to get over the image of me as a child, accept that I was another person, a woman now - and his mate. And I needed to find some sort of patience to hold onto while he got there.

That didn’t mean I was a saint, though. My desire was still there, even stronger, I dared to say. Now that he had recognized that he truly wanted me, it felt too easy, it felt simple and I just wanted to reach out and have him touch me - really, anywhere.

But I wanted to give him the space he needed to come to terms with this. So I resorted to long nights of touching myself to the thought of him, wondering what he was doing on his bed, if he thought of me when the bunker’s silence grew almost deadly and the sky became darker than a demon’s eye.

And then one night, I heard it.

It was a woman’s moan, coming from the room next door, and instinctively every nerve in my omega body stood in attention, ready to pounce. Who the fuck was with John? Why would he do this? But then his groan reached my ear, sounding much closer, much clearer, and by the time I heard another male’s voice panting, I knew what was happening.

John was watching porn.

The thought thrilled me to no end, even though I couldn’t really explain just why. Maybe it was the fact that he was doing something that intimate, right next to me, not knowing I could hear…

Or maybe he did, and that’s exactly why he was doing it. That had me drenching my panties, quickly getting rid of my clothes before laying back on the bed, a hand between my legs as I tried to listen to his every sound.

Only a few grunts and pants seemed to come from him, the rest mainly from the movie he was watching, but I could distinctly identify the wet, rhythmic slap of his hand meeting his navel along the sounds of the television, and that was the tempo I followed as I started to touch myself.

I got lost in the memories of when it was his fingers inside of me, his scent drowning mine, yet my attention never wavered from the room next door, trying to memorize every little thing about his search for pleasure while I did the same. I just knew it wouldn’t be enough to get me off until his pace quickened, a growl escaping the depths of his chest as he reached his release, and the thought of his cum covering his naked body had me mewling as my cunt clenched around my own digits.

Suddenly, it was all too quiet. All too very quiet.

“Are you touching yourself, little one?” His voice came closer than I expected it to - not that I expected it at all - and it had me gasping in surprise, imagining him on the other side of the wall against which my bed rested, trying to hear me do the exact same thing he’d been doing seconds before. “Are you touching yourself to the sounds of me getting myself off?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. How the fuck was I supposed to resist him?

“Are you soaking wet?” The questions just kept coming, prompting my movements to grow quicker, more desperate at the clear desire dripping in his tone. “Because of me?” A simple chuckle shouldn’t sound this hot. “No James here to prepare you this time, huh?”

And that was all it took for me to reach my high, cumming around my fingers with a strangled moan as John’s low laugh resonated from my left. “Atta girl. Bet you’ll sleep real good tonight.” And just when I thought he was done and I could finally breathe again, “I know I will.”

Oh, shit. I was trying to be patient and give him his time, but if he thought I’d let this sort of teasing just go by, he was in for a treat. Better get ready for war, Winchester.

John’s P.O.V.

I knew I was playing with fire, but no one could have prepared me for the special type of hell I was forced to live in during the next few weeks.

It was like she was doing anything she could to make my resolve break. She wanted me to lose control, take her again just like I did that time when I thought another Alpha would try to lay claim on her.

And I had to give it to her - the memories of when she was young were nothing but distant flashbacks I could only remember if I tried to think back on why I was trying to resist her.

Even then, it was like that little girl was someone else entirely, someone I didn’t know anymore - certainly not the young woman who was currently caressing the inside of my thighs and slowly getting closer and closer to my crotch in the middle of this fucking diner.

I took advantage of the fact that Dean had left the table to hit on one of the waitresses and Sam had left to ring someone to finally hold her wrists, stop her quest for control over my dick and my nerves.

“You keep trying to test my patience, you little brat. You wouldn’t like what I’d do if I actually lost it, right here, right now.” Her sharp inhale was music to my ears, a smirk taking over my face as I looked down on her by my side.

But of course, she couldn’t just let it go.

“What would you do, old man?” My chest inflated as I took in her defiance, glancing at the door and Dean to make sure no one would come back soon before turning my body fully towards her, caging her against the wall in the booth.

“I’d put you over my knee, rip those pretty jeans and spank the shit out of you, omega. I’d let everyone watch me bruise your skin, I don’t even care that all these alphas are staring at you. I’d let them see, so maybe they’d know they ain’t got no chance with you.” The sweet smell of her arousal was easy to catch, so I knew she was soaked by now - and my smirk warned her of just how much I was aware of my effect on her body.

A few seconds of silence followed my words, both of us breathing heavily as we stared at each other, trying to hold back. Until she broke the spell, simply by being her.

“God, can you get any kinkier?” I wanted to be mad, I really did, but it was just impossible. My whole body shook under the power of my laughter, and I knew Dean was looking back at us now, just like some of the other patrons.

“Try me,” I provoked, raising my eyebrows at her as I reached for my mug of coffee again. She just kept staring at me, lips pursed in a pout, arms crossed in front of her body, the perfect picture of annoyance.

“You’re hot, but you’re very mean. Did you know that?” I choked on the hot liquid, almost spilling it all over myself, not having expected to be so casually called hot by someone as attractive as her in a million years.

“But you know what?” She pressed on, not giving me any time to recover. “I can be meaner.” That sentence, whispered in my ear as she pressed her body against mine, sent shivers down my spine. “Game’s on, Winchester.”

… What had I gotten myself into?

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The fact that we had managed to get John Winchester to go to a club was mind-blowing and hilarious to me. He looked so out of place - much older than most around, and underdressed in comparison to the guys his age, who were all displaying the same type of clothes as the fuck boys who were so desperately trying to get with anything that moved.

“You have something in your hair,” I commented, using this as an excuse to press my body tightly against his when I reached out to fix his locks, and even though he was quick to push me away, keeping me at a distance, there was a smile on his face.

“You need to stop doing that.” I bit my lip as I looked up at him with the most innocent expression I could muster. It was honestly hard not to laugh.

“Doing what?” John scoffed, letting me go to turn back to his whiskey, but once the liquid was in his lips again, his eyes traveled up and down my body, almost undressing me.

“You like my dress?” I asked, twirling so he could get the full view, even though I already knew how he felt about it. There was an entire discussion about the piece of clothing before we managed to leave the bunker, and I still believed it was the entire reason why he decided to tag along to my night out with the boys.

“I think we’ve established this is barely even a dress, little girl.” Giggling, I stepped closer to him again, using the excuse some drunk dude gave me when he lost his balance and wobbled in my direction, my hand falling precisely over John’s crotch as I pressed our bodies together once more.

“You know there’s other people around us, right?” He whispered right by my ear, raising goosebumps all over my skin when the hand that wasn’t holding his drink settled over my ass. “This little skirt of yours is giving me all types of thoughts…”

I was just about to ask him to elaborate on that when his head suddenly snapped up, meeting my eyes instead of looking at my breasts. “Why on Earth aren’t you wearing any underwear?”

I giggled when I understood that he could feel the absence of other fabrics underneath the thin material of my dress since he was now rubbing and squeezing my butt. I was suddenly shy, more because I didn’t expect him to call me out on it than anything else, so I buried my face in his chest as he kept teasing me, “Do you have something against it? Is that it? Are you allergic to panties?”

He swayed us somewhat to the beat of the song that had taken everyone to the dance floor, and I just relished in his embrace before finally coming up with something to say. “You liked it so much the last time…” I reminded him, not expecting what he’d counter.

“Last time was a mistake.” Immediately, I pushed away from him, meeting his eyes in shock and hurt as his words pained me in a way I never expected him to do - not again. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared back at me, obviously confused by my sudden reaction until he understood what he had said.

“No, no,” he called out, easily pulling me close again despite me trying to escape. I hated that I cherished that night so badly, desired him so ardently ever since, just for him to go ahead and write it off as a mistake.

“That’s not what I meant, ‘mega,” he tried to calm me down, nose rubbing over my scent gland in an effort to lower my heartbeat and suppress my anger. It worked perfectly, as much as I didn’t want it to.

“I just mean, I didn’t want the first time I touch you to be because of anger and jealousy.” His explanation drained all irritation from my body, leaving me slumping against his hard chest.

“I didn’t want it to happen like that,” he continued. “You deserved more than that.” My heartbeat was pounding to the rhythm of the music, not quite believing this turn of events.

“I mean… I didn’t even kiss you, for fuck’s sake.” The sound of his despair against his own actions had me mewling against him, absentmindedly rutting my ass against his crotch, not even realizing I was doing it until his fingers pressed tightly on my hips - not stopping me, just… holding me there.

“I want- I want our first time to be meaningful.” And that, right then, stole my breath away. Because I understood the implicit message. I understood that this was him, saying he was ready. “Hopefully, in a bed,” he continued, and I smiled to myself at his sweet plans for us.

“But if you keep teasing me so much, I’ll bury my fingers inside of you right here, I swear.” This last part was uttered against the shell of my ear, making me go perfectly still, at last stopping my movements against the bulge that had become more than evident in his old jeans.

“And Lord knows where that would take us,” he commented, hands holding me just under the curve of my breasts, making me shiver as he nuzzled against my neck from behind. “By now, you know how easily I can get carried away.”

And I did. Just the memory of it made me shiver, but maybe it was the man behind me, whose hands were now openly exploring my body as if we weren’t surrounded by people in a smelly club.

“Yeah, I know…” I panted, body sensuously moving against his without even intending to, just needing to feel the weight of his hands all over me, forever. “You’ve done it before.”

And that was the last thing I spoke for the next few hours because right then John turned me in his arms and took my lips on his, devouring me in the dark corner of the dance floor, while the rest of the club danced without a care in the world, not taking notice on two mates finally giving in to one another.

The only thing that mattered right then was him and I.

#my series #john winchester x reader #john winchester reader #john winchester series #john winchester reader insert #john winchester reader inserts #john winchester fanfiction #winchester fanfiction

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eyeless-cunt · 4 years

Note

Prompt idea: Eyeless Jack stumbled upon a victims house to find them chained up, covered in wounds and bruises, and obviously poorly treated. EJ is about to nope tf out but she reaches out to him with t h e l o o k. So he has to help her escape. AND THEN LO AND BEHOLD THE RAT BOY (or whoever) APPEARS AND TURNS OUT SHE'S HIS HOSTAGE. -Cat eyes

PART 1: HEALING FIC

PROMT 11

alright listen— ill bite. but we’re gonna change this a lil.

🔪—————————————————————————🌸

word count: 3.5 k

summary: Ej is hundreds of years into his immortal life, the human population has run into their cities and left the woods to the dogs. Ej finds someone in his woods with something to hide, and then finds the hidden

nsfw: no just angst and trying to heal

warnings: gore, blood, violence, mentions of sexual abuse/sexual violence/hintings of rape, kidnapped reader, sensory deprivation, spitting on corpses that deserve it

READ PART TWO HERE

🌸—————————————————————————🔪

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. But then again, it didn’t exactly start out the way it was supposed to either.

I was just hungry. That’s it. I hadn’t eaten in a while, i’m still not sure how long I went without food. That’s not important. I was just hungry. They were just standing there. I didn’t question why they were in the woods, why they were bloody. I didn’t question why I had never seen this cabin before, why someone was in my woods, why he had blood all over him, blood that wasn’t his own.

I was just hungry.

If I didn’t eat soon then another part of me would surface. I needed food. He was my food, and I didnt give him time to blink. I pounced as soon as I saw him, teeth sunk into his throat faster than lightning, to ensure a quick death and the inability to fight me back. I didn’t want a half assed human’s struggle, I wanted food.

I was done with him in less than thirty minutes, I had practically picked him from the bone. My hunger was sated, but my new curiosity in the wake of getting my sense back was not. Why was he in my woods, so far from human civilization. Who’s blood was covering him? I was so hungry I hadn’t stopped to taste him, I hadn’t noticed the difference between that blood and his. I doubt I would find any of it now in the wake of what I had done to him.

I smelt for a trail. What direction had he come from? West. I left him, there was no one else around to see him anyways. He had no use anymore. For some reason, I didn’t think anyone would miss him. I followed his scent trail, it didn’t stay to the path. I went through my woods, I hadn’t been to this area in a long ass time. Years maybe ? Not sure. I had lived too long. It could have been easily twenty years since I’d last visited this area and I would have no idea.

I’m not sure how long it was, I don’t keep time well, I came across a medium cabin. It looked like it’d been added to a few times. It was ugly. I wanted to burn it. Why the fuck was this in my woods? How did the little shit stain even get here? Slender needed work on his cloaking skills, it seemed. I walked around it, Listening keenly. I heard movement. Faint. I could hear things clearly from extreme distances, so why was this sound faint? A basement? That still wouldn’t do much. A sound proof room? Why would he have one of those?

My curiosity peeked, and I found myself trying to open the front door, only to find it locked. I smirked and rolled my eyes. What a weak door. Humans could be cute sometimes too. I delivered one kick to it, and the hinges completely gave out. I scoffed at how brittle it was, and continued inside the cabin. No lights were on, but that was fine. I could see perfectly fine, eyes or not.

I searched all the rooms—nothing to be found in any of them. So it was a basement then. I pulled up all the rugs in the cabin—nothing. What was he trying to hide so badly? I tried listening once again, but could hear nothing of what I had heard before. I smelt around and caught the scent of fresh blood. I followed it to what seemed to be his bedroom, and into his closet. I rummaged around his clothes and lo and behold— a wide wooden board too out of place to be natural. I tugged it and it stayed in place. If i couldn’t move it then how would he? I tugged a bit harder and it came undone in a splintering mess. If I hadn’t been wearing gloves then I would have gotten my hands dirty. This place was a mess.

It was a dark hole. Straight down with a rusty ladder. I definitely had not been in this area for a longer time than I had previously thought. I ignored the ladder and jumped down, hitting the ground about eight feet down. I looked around the space I had jumped into. One room. One door. I tried opening the door only to find a digital lock. I broke it with my fist and tried again. Still wouldn’t budge. I sighed and kicked the door. Why did he need such a thick metal door? How much porn was he hiding down here, hm?

I kicked it harder, once again, harder and again, and eventually it caved in on the side. I grabbed the part that I kicked in and tried pulling it my way, no dice. I moved backwards and stood two feet away from the door, then ramming my shoulder into it hard enough to send the door crashing into the opposite wall, making a loud crashing noise that reverberated through the room. My bad. I looked inside to find it bright, artificially lit, obviously. I almost walked right back out again after seeing what I saw.

In the corner was a slumped figure. She had bandages covering her eyes, arms chained above her and her feet in heavy shackles. Plugs in her ears, rag in her mouth, and gook stuffed in her nose. She couldn’t hear, see, or smell me. He was torturing a girl down here. I couldn’t tell her age or anything, but she definitely felt the tremors I had caused with the door— seeing as she had her head turning every which way and was pressing herself against the wall.

No wonder he had so much to hide. I walked over to her, and took the rag out of her mouth. What do I do with her? Do I set her free? What if she sends the cops to my woods? Slenderman’s cloaking only does so much. She immediately took a deep breath, and started choking on the air. Her chest moved up and down sporadically and she hung limp in her chains. She said nothing.

I took out the ear plugs and waited again. She said nothing. I couldn’t see her facial expression behind her bandages. i took the corner of her shirt and wiped the gook out of her nose as best as I could. She was patient and didn’t put up a fight. How long had she been down here? How long had she been kicked into submission? I was hesitant to remove the bandages, was she injured?

“What’s wrong with your face.”

She immediately halted any movement, then started to struggle. She didn’t recognize my voice and immediately figured I was a threat, it seemed. She just pulled against her chains, her mouth slightly open and her lungs laboring harshly. She obviously was a harsh breather. I didn’t know how long she had been here. How much of her stamina had been sapped away?

“Calm down. What’s wrong with your face?”

She didn’t say anything, just kept breathing harshly. She stilled immediately though. Obviously she knew english.

“If you don’t answer i’ll take the bandages off myself.”

She pressed further into the wall, and started shaking like a leaf when I cut a bandage with my nail, after removing a glove and sticking it in my pocket. I tugged at it and unwrapped her face, now in full view after a few moments. I didn’t see anything wrong with her. Normal. She however, started to cry as soon as the bandage hit the floor, reaching for it as hard as she could. She shook her head at me, willing me to go away.

“Do you want to be free?”

She only cried harder, grasping at her chains and pushing away from me, gasping for air.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Her sobs racked her entire body, as if she was expecting something that she couldn’t stop. I took her left arm chain into my hands and crushed it. It took more force then I was expecting, yet I did a leg one next, trying not to crush her leg in the process. She was probably scared out of her mind watching me crush her restraints with one hand like it was nothing, so I didn’t look up to see her reaction. I went to the next leg chain and then her arm. When I was done I expected her to run, hit me, scream, freeze up.

Nothing. The clasps of the chains that were now detached from the actual chains were still dangling from her limbs. I wouldn’t be able to crush those without hurting her fatally. She only stood there, swaying, and she looked immensely confused. I didn’t blame her. Where do we go from here? I settled on getting her out of this room.

“Can you make your way out by yourself?”

Nothing. I was starting to get annoyed. I was all for peace and quiet but this kinda pissed me off.

“Answer.”

I felt bad about growling like that, it was deep and could probably make a child cry. She flinched back and hit the wall, her lip trembled. Still nothing.

I wasn’t all too patient at this moment, I was still recovering from who knows how long of hunger. I wasn’t in my normal mental state. I was harsher, meaner, louder, easier to anger.

So I grabbed her arm. Maybe a little too hard. I hadn’t been gentle with something in a long time. I had forgotten how much my strength had increased over the years. This immortal body had forgotten how to be soft. She whimpered and winced, but never pulled away.

I dragged her to the ladder and made her to grab the rungs. Forced her up the ladder and out of the closet. She hit the ground at her knees when I released her. I noticed the blueish purple marks on her, where I had been. Shit. It looked almost mangled. Why didn’t she pull away? How long had she been down here?

I tried again. I tried to be softer. This human wasn’t for eating right now. I tried to remember that when I hoisted her up onto my back, her arms hanging limply over my shoulders, her head pressing softly against my back. Small, fragile. Just like all humans. Even smaller than that man in the woods. It didn’t matter their size, gender, strength— they were all small and fragile prey to me. Something caught my eye. Something I hadn’t noticed before. I set her on the couch, practically dropping her there. She stayed put, didn’t move an inch.

Something that no human would notice, a thin crack in the wall. I pulled at it and it came undone quite easily. A simple hidden door behind water rotted wallpaper. Simple, easy, no one would look here. I entered cautiously, was there another human here?

No. Just a video camera and a computer. Set up at a desk in the corner of the room. I turned it on, it blarring to life loudly. Human technology had grown in the years, and apparently gotten louder with the years as well. I looked around the screen, everything was labeled with dates. The earliest one was two days ago. I clicked on it only to freeze for a moment. Pictures of her. Pictures of his hand at her throat, fingers in her mouth, a picture of him digging his nails into her left breast.

I clicked through them, there was easily fifty of them. Disgusted, I clicked out of them to try to find the earliest ones. sixteen years ago. I hesitated, then clicked. A video.

The screen was dark for a few seconds, then someone picked up the camera and suddenly the soundproof room wall was visible. The man holding the camera sniffed a bit and turned the camera to face empty restaints on the wall. They were different from the rough chains she had previously been trapped in.

“Alright, well, here they are! I think they should hold my little pet fairly well. They’re pretty sturdy and adjustable. God she’s such a thrasher, so I hope these hold as well as the guy who made them said they would. Not like she’d be able to leave the room anyways but... well I’d still rather her be restrained,” he sniffed again, and his hand made it’s way onto camera, reaching out to hold the brown straps and mess with them.

“I’m sure she’ll love this room much better than the previous one. That one was so dark, I know she’s afraid of the dark so I felt kinda bad. Hearing her cry in the middle of the night was so annoying. Made me wanna hit her upside the head and knock her out. Aha, yeah, but,” another sniff, “I really should go grab her and get her into this. bye now.”

The video ended. The next one was two hours later. I clicked it and once again there was a dark screen for just a few seconds.

When the camera got pulled up however it showed not a wall but her instead. She was so much smaller, so worn and bruised. She was glaring at the camera, tugging at her restraints. She seemed so tired, like fighting back and pulling constantly was starting to hurt her arms. She seemed to be in a lot of pain.

“Tell the camera your name. Come on now.”

Her lip trembled, then she started to thrash harder, letting out a scream. He growled and grabbed her by the throat, shoving her head back against the wall.

“Tell. The. Camera. Your fucking name. Now.”

She whimpered and stopped struggling. Tears had pooled in her eyes and her lips trembled harder. He pushed against her throat again when he got no response.

“y/n.”

She said it quietly, but he seemed satisfied. He released her throat and delivered a soft hand on her head, patting there gently. She tried to cower away from his hand but he still followed.

“And how old are you, y/n ?”

She started to cry, a hiccup hitting the air. He moved his hand to her throat again but she didn’t need the warning this time.

“Si-si-six,” followed by another hiccup and sob.

He cooed at her, asking her things like what her favorite color was and her favorite song. She cried through the whole thing, her cries gradually getting louder. The video ended panned on her face, her eyes cast downward and tears streaks down her face.

I was grossed out, disgusted. I had the thought that maybe I should have dealt with him in a slower, crueler way. I searched through the pictures, looking for another video. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, maybe it was the need to understand what she’d been through. It didn’t matter, I just needed to see more.

It panned directly on her face now. She was full out sobbing and thrashing, her cries bordering on screaming. He had a hand at her throat and a hand on the camera. He got up and set the camera down on a nearby surface. He walked into view, and changed tha angle so you could see her full body in the restaints. I got a sick feeling in my stomach, but continued to watch, wondering where this was going. The bandages were now on her face. I looked at the date of the video, july 27th, seven years after the first video. She would be thirteen at this point. Still so young. He walked into the view of the camera, a wild smile on his face. Sure enough, it was the man in my woods.

“Y/n... do you want to be free?”

She sobbed louder, gasping and screaming, “No! Stop! I don’t want to do this again! I hate it! It hurts! Its disgu—

He delivered a swift slap to her face, causing her to whince and cry more. She stopped speaking but continued sobbing. He glared at her, even though she couldn’t see it with the bandages on.

“You know not to talk like that. Especially on camera. And it’s not disgusting! So don’t ever say that. It’s an act of love, you useless and spineless whore. It means I love you.”

He continued insulting her, spitting out insults and praising himself, telling her how much he loved her, how lucky she was to be here with him, ect. It was disgusting to watch. He started to grope her all over, her body shaking. She was scared. She was terrified. He took her face in his hands and upwrapped the bandages, dropping them on the floor. Her facial expression was heartbreaking. She looked so beaten and broken down.

“I’ll ask again, do you want to be free?”

“NO!”

“Wrong answer,” she sobbed harder, her head limp and slouched over as her cries took over her body, “Of course you want to be free, and i’ll show you how to be. Just relax. It’s fine.”

I was sick to my stoumach at this point. The events that transpired next I won’t explain, they were too vile and disgusting to explain in full detail. I didn’t end up finishing that video. I turned off the computer, and walked out the door and back into the living room where I had set her. She was still there. Looking at her after seeing those videos, those pictures, those memories— I still felt sick. She had gone through that in my woods. I had neglected patrolling my woods for so long, and this had happened as a result. I had become lazy, I had relied on slender and his cloaking. That decision had allowed this to occur. It was my fault that she had endured this pain for sixteen years. It was up to me to make it up to her, even though I knew it was impossible to make up for that amount of crushing hurt. I knew it, but I still tried.

I approached her slowly, then kneeling down to her face level where she laid on the couch. She starred at me, but said nothing. She was confused. I didn’t blame her.

“Can you walk? Or do you want me to carry you? If you don’t answer i’ll assume you want to be carried, and I won’t blame you. You probably have no leg strength left.”

She said nothing once again, and so I picked her up, more gently than I had before, more fitting of thin and expensive decorative glass. Her arms swayed limply as I carried her princess style out of the cabin and into my woods. I walked through the trees and stopped a few meters away from the man’s body. I felt that she needed justice, she needed to know she was safe. He was gone. I just didn’t know how to go about it. So I did so cautiously.

“The man who kidnapped you,” she froze in my arms, “he’s gone. Forever. He’s dead. Do you want to see? It’s gross, bloody, a disgusting display. You won’t even recognize him. He’s practically bones and slop now. If you don’t say anything i’ll assume you don’t want to see and we won’t continue in this direction. He’s just past those trees. So, do you want to see what’s left of your captor?”

I waited for a minute, but she didn’t say anything. I took that as my answer and turned around, ready to go in another direction. Her harsh grip on my sweatshirt stopped me. I looked down to see her lip quivering.

“I want to see it.”

She said it so soft, but I heard it. I nodded and turned back towards the trees, steadily making my way there. When I got there I stopped three feet from his body. She looked towards him, face turned away from me. I couldn’t see her expression. She started to cry, harshly and loudly. She went limp in my arms, so I kneeled down on the ground gently, setting her down and moving her so that she leaned against me. She cried for a good amount of time, I didn’t mind. When she stopped, she waited for a minute, then got up, me helping her. She took steps towards him, and when she was a foot away, she spit right on his skull. I almost smiled under my mask.

“Are you ready to go?”

She nodded and I picked her up once again, then making my way to my place. I wondered where to go from here. How much physical rehabilitation would she need to be able to move freely without my help? How much mental help? Did she have a home to go back to? Could I send her back? Would I keep her with me until she died? Humans had such short life spans, it wouldn’t be that long for me. Would she even want to stay with me? And what happens when I accidentally get too hungry and go feral, or on the verge of feral?

Would I kill her?

#eyeless jack fan fic #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack fanfiction #eyeless jack is feral #ej is my boy #we love ej #creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #tw: rape #tw: gore #part 1 fic #🌸🔪

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ari-the-gooose · 3 years

Text

Every Character with the Despair Disease

I really loved seeing all the characters that were effected as their opposite selves so here is my interpretation of all the others

Hajime:

Just kinda has that "whatever" and shrugs it off kinda attitude. He would see someone die and be like "oh welp". Does not care about a single thing going on, would rather just live his day to day life like a normal teen boy, even if it is in the middle of a murder game. They would try to figure out how to cure the disease and Hajime would just wanna chill at the beach instead.

Twogami:

This boy would almost be like Ibuki in terms of listening to whatever anyone says but not be as stiff. Instead of being the leader of everyone, he would hide away and just follow along. It would be really difficult for everyone cause they would have relied on him for so long at that point but it would be interesting for sure. He would also have some self confidence stuff because instead of being the great Togami, he would see himself as just another student.

Chiaki:

She would become such a bitch. Like imagine Chiaki becoming Hiyoko but even meaner. Like not afraid to curse people out and yell at them. Cause picture how sweet and kind she is on the spectrum, but flip that. Like she would make fun of you, but in an accurate way. She would get to what you don't like about yourself and mock you for it.

Nekomaru:

I was thinking about making him shy, but I think what would be even better would be if he became suddenly very refined. Like he just walked in wearing a suit and demanding only the finest foods that can be eaten with a knife and fork. He asks to be excused to the "restroom" and everyone is so confused. Any time someone yells, he asks them to use their inside voice and his encouragement is about the same level as Byakuya.

Peko:

This one is super depressing. She just hates Fuyuhiko and no one knows why cause it's not like she was ever that close to him (wink). And she suddenly is like out to get him and is very brash with her attacks, so much that they have to pick her in a room where she is basically going wild and yelling a lot. Like she is just going pure psycho about killing him. It's super sad for Fuyuhiko to see her like this and he has to play it off like he doesn't know why she is out to kill him but in his heart he knows it cause she loves him that much.

Teruteru:

He just drinks that respect women juice and becomes so pure and innocent. Like someone says something incorporate and he just covers his ears or acts super confused. That's all I really got for him, don't judge me.

Hiyoko:

So you know how I said that Chiaki becomes super mean, well Hiyoko is the opposite. She becomes like a dark chick who hides her emotions super well, but will build up your confidence any day. You're insecure about that dress, don't be cause Hiyoko is your biggest fan. But also, she would never reveal what's wrong with her or how she is feeling cause she doesn't want anyone to see any sad or pitiful side of her. Hers would probably be the most drastic change compared to anyone else.

Mahiru:

Mahiru basically now thinks it all about her all the time. Like her ego grows bigger than any star out there. Someone tries to ask for her help about something and she immediately changes it to be all about her and it's so annoying to people. Also, she becomes that giggly, dumb bitch whenever guys are around. Like she only talks about herself but to put other girls down and to impress the guys. It's pretty uncomfy for everyone.

Gundam:

The most basic, boring person out there. He shows up in a nike or some other brand t-shirt and some jeans with no makeup on or anything and everyone has no clue who this guy is. His pets are back in his room and he just acts like a normal teen. And the weirdest part, is that he is super chill with Kazuichi and Kazuichi has no clue how to respond. This dude just becomes boring with no particular interest in anything and it's tripping everyone out.

Fuyuhiko:

He is scared and apologetic for everything. It's almost like Fujisaki because he is scared of everything, will break out into tears about the situation and is afraid everyone hates him. He is super clingy to Peko, but like hers, no one really gets why it's her but she can't say anything. He has to stay with the group out of fear of being killed or even just missing out.

Sonia:

She shows up in a hoodie and sweatpants, and a messy ponytail. She is clearly sleep deprived so she is sorta out of it. She is also kinda into Kazuichi and tries to flirt a little bit but Kazuichi has lost any interest in whoever she has become. Essentially, I just picture her as a normal, tired high school girl not afraid to be gross and not care about anything.

Kazuichi:

This one is my personal fav cause he kinda like Peko, goes wild. Like not even Sonia can stop him. They have to contain him because he is just screaming out profanities while threatening to kill Monokuma. This guy thinks he has the power of God or something because his confidence is so high it's dangerous.

And that's it! Let me know if ya wanna see this with the other games :)

#Danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #goodbye despair #despair disease

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whirlybirbs · 5 years

Photo

--- tenderly feral.

summary: you’re used to being alone. daryl, somehow, changes that. rating: t for violence, references to murder/assault/loss, s5 spoilers, if that matters. word count: 3.7k a/n: this is set mid-season 5. right before alexandria. listen, i know, i’m catching up, okay???? anyways, i wrote for daryl when i was literally in high-school and i think this is very fitting. it all comes full circle. this will, no doubt, be a series. ✘ next chapter. ✘

You’re quiet. Mean lookin’ and awfully quiet.

Daryl Dixon reasons you’re a little bit like a feral cat - used to bein’ outdoors and used to bein’ mean, mean as can be. You’re not used to havin’ others around. It shows.

You don’t trust easy.

And that’s fine, because neither does he.

You’re with the group a little over a week when you finally speak more than a word -- it’s to Rick, saying you saw some formula and diapers and baby blankets in one of the neighborhoods South of Atlanta. It’s a metaphorical olive branch; offered in favor for the next-to-nothing meals and for the church roof over your head...

For saving your skin.

Your voice is a rasp, sounds like you haven’t used it in months. The words fall past your lips slow and sluggish.

(Daryl wonders if it’s from the bruises around your neck, from the hands that had been strangling you into the pavement with no remorse when he found you.)

You’re trying to say thank you. The words don’t want come out just yet. Daryl knows how that feels. So you offer a supply run instead. Risk your neck. Show your thanks.

You figure you won’t be around for long. Might as well make it worth it.

The archer squints into the evening sky as a sunset flare draws a halo around your head.

“Didn’t think t’ grab it, then,” you mutter, lips ghosting over the words as your worried eyes bounce to the cooing infant in the officer’s arms. You toe the dirt, “But, I could grab it now. She’s gotta eat.”

Rick doesn’t trust easy anymore -- not to say he ever really did before.

His eyes narrow, a blink of a microexpression that’s laced with skepticism and curiosity and a vague sense of doubt. Despite it, you stand unwavered as Daryl watches through the mousy strands of his hair from the front steps of the church. After a moment, Rick nods.

His eyes dart across the wooded horizon.

“Tomorrow,” Rick says finally, “Sun’s gonna set soon.”

Daryl watches as you nod, shuffle past, and retreat to the church. His stare follows the steps of your well-worn boots, blue eyes watching as you weave through the open doors to the Lord’s home silently.

You’re a feral cat tryna be an indoor cat.

But you’re tryin’.

Daryl guesses that’s all that matters.

✘

You prefer being alone.

It’s just... better that way.

You leave before sun-up and come back that afternoon with a carload of supplies -- Daryl isn’t sure how you managed to swing it, heading out to the ‘burbs with the van alone like that, but you do and there’s grub in everyone’s belly at the end of the night because of it.

It’s either sheer stupidity or pure survival and Daryl isn’t sure which one.

That night, he watches from a few pews back as you fork a can of brown bread into your mouth while you shake a bottle of formula.

In the lights of the candles, you seem softer -- maybe not so mean.

You present the bottle to Carl, lips quirked up into a ghost of a smile as the boy thanks you and bounces his sister on his hip.

(The boy reminds you of someone you knew once, then, and the formula hangs between your hand and his as a memory punches you in the gut -- you remember Boston, and Pennsylvania, and every loss along the way and Carl sees it before you can wipe it away. You try your best to distract from your gaping wound with a tight-lipped smile, but the burn of tears unfallen paint the boy’s face all sorts of guilty.)

“You okay?” he asks, eyeing the bottle.

“Yeah,” you whisper, ducking to the ground, “M’ fine.”

You ain’t. Daryl sees that.

The pew creaks as Rick settles beside the archer.

Silence runs like a river between the two men as you cross the church and settle back against the wall by the altar. They’re both watching, like wolves protecting their pack, and you avoid the weight of their gazes in favor of your canned bread and the small comfort of your corner.

You swipe angrily at the tears streaking your cheeks.

Daryl sees it. He doesn’t know what to make of it, but he sees it.

This is why it’s better to be alone.

“If we’re gonna move soon, after we get Beth,” says Rick after a few beats of breath, “We need more supplies. Somethin’ t’ last us more than a few days.”

Daryl blinks into his can of beans, knee bouncing.

“Yeah.”

“She offered to show us the spot. Go with her tomorrow.”

Daryl nods, tipping back the can into his mouth as Rick pats his knee.

✘

“I’m comin’ with you.”

You go rigid, stiff as a board, when Daryl’s voice passes behind you. Swallowing, you bend at the knee and move to finish shoving a few balled up bags and some water into your camping pack -- when you stay silent, his boots carry him closer, and you’re left to eye the lopsided laces staring back at you.

“Y’ alright with that?”

“Don’t matter,” you say, words biting a bit more than you mean for them to; you’re quick to stand, hauling your pack onto your back, “... Does it?”

Suddenly, the world swings on a hinge and like a screen door slamming open, you’re locked in the orbit of Daryl Dixon. The shiner around his eye makes him look meaner than he is. Blue eyes are soft, betraying him even more. You stand straight, unwavering, as the archer wets his lips and breaks away. He toes the ground and swings his crossbow over his left shoulder as he squints along the tree line.

Mean, mean, mean. Ain’t you?

“No,” he breathes, “It don’t.”

✘

The ride to the South End ‘burbs is quiet.

You forfeited the keys without a fight, swinging yourself into the passagender side of the van -- your fingers had clawed at grime and scum lining the windshield only to yield nothing but smears. So, as the van rolls on, you opt to look out the window.

The view, however desolate and broken, is nice.

After a long stretch of road and a longer stretch of silence, Daryl finally speaks. Blue eyes dart to the curve of your face. They linger, following the column of your throat.

“... Those bruises are healin’ up good.”

He eyes the road with a noted sense of worry.

Again, you seem to stiffen and turn inward. Your hands fly to your neck, pushing the collar of your worn flannel up. The brush of your fingers spurs a wince that flashes into a snarl. Daryl sees it.

Mean.

You plant a boot on the dashboard and cross your arms.

And that’s that.

✘

You manage to stock up three bags of cans, water, and medical supplies.

It’s not much but it’s something, and as you drag yourself up into the van, you catch Daryl’s figure in the rearview. There’s a cigarette hanging between his lips, fingers prying at a bag in the trunk -- the smell of nicotine is better than that of the upholstery which has seemingly soaked up all the residue from it’s previous owner.

The stain in the carpet is big.

Your eyes fleet up from aforementioned stain, connecting with Daryl’s like keys fitting a lock.

He’s always watching.

You reason Daryl Dixon is a bit like a fighting dog -- nasty when he needs to be and fiercely protective. It shows.

He doesn’t trust easy.

And that’s fine, because neither do you.

(Even when if he is the man who’d saved your fucking life. Even if Daryl Dixon is the man who’d pried another living being off you -- even if he’d tackled that fuck to the ground while you gasped for air and stars swam in your eyes. Bloodied fingers clawed at the hot pavement and the world swayed, but you could breathe and you were alive, even if the sound of a tinkering belt and violent threats still sat in your ears.)

Trustin’ ain’t easy now-a-days.

✘

The dance of candlelight carves his face into something softer -- you swear you can see the play of a smile there when Carol talks; as the grey-haired women waves her spoon and shrugs, you find yourself missing conversation for the first time in a long time.

Maybe you have been alone for too long. It shows in moments like these.

You tuck your knees closer and fork the peaches in the tin can with an edge of frustration. In your corner, you sit, far from the lull of the group’s conversation.

But, it’s Tyreese who drags you up from the bottom of that pit of loneliness -- the deep baritone of his voice rouses your attention.

“... Where are you from, newbie?” he asks, words weighted with sincerity, “Where’s home?”

(You’re not a newbie. Maybe that lanky boy Noah is, but you’re not -- this is just something temporary between the running. This group... well, nothing is ever permanent anymore. Especially with the current state of things.)

The conversation holds itself still the lungs of those around you, stuck in their throats as Tyreese drives apart the sea and welcomes you in with a kindness unfounded.

Your eyes hit the bottom of your can. The sugar sweet peaches glisten like tears.

“Boston,” you muster finally, exhaling.

“Christ.”

A sea of murmurs. You can feel the distrust of Rick and Michonne in the tempered reactions -- as Rick bounces a cooing Judith, you’re suddenly feeling like the flame the moths flock to. You feel obligated to share this part of your story, after all isn’t that what people do?

You’re not sure. When you’re alone, you avoid the living like the plague.

But, despite your hang-up’s and hesitation, you nod again, move forward and sit up. You swallow and wet your lips.

“Been on the road for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Since it started.”

Daryl’s face flinches. You see it. He knows.

“Why?” asks Michonne with a pointed edge, “Why not... settle?”

“I did,” you say, “Tried to, at least. Then people died, shit fell apart, and... I kept moving. I had to.”

“Alone?” asks Rick, eyes narrowed.

You nod. Shame weighs your shoulders.

“Seemed like I was bad luck,” you chirp, “Real bad.”

“Well, you’re here now,” says Tyreese, “And we’re glad.”

You wonder if that’s a good thing, after all.

✘

“Here.”

You narrow your eyes.

In his hands hangs a tube. The label is faded.

You squint up at Daryl Dixon from your spot on the church’s steps as a mid-day sunray curls right around his head like a halo. His face is set in something awfully serious. Fiercely protective. Like a damn fightin’ dog.

(You wonder who holds the choke chain, who yanks the leash.

Is it Rick?)

You take it, confusion flying across your face.

“It’s some cream,” he says, “Carol found it. Said it’s good for bruises.”

You see the way his eyes fall on your throat.

“M’ fine,” you croak, “It... It don’t even hurt.”

“Bullshit.”

“How would you know, huh?” you bite, lips snarling, “I’m fine.”

“‘Cuz I been choked out before,” Daryl snaps back, looming closer, “Take th’ damn cream.”

You do, only with a lasting look of irritation. The moment the tube leaves his hands, he relaxes.

Like that, the air dissipates into stillness.

Daryl’s eyes roam the steeple. When you speak, it catches him by surprise.

“... Thanks.”

You’re still feral. But you’re tryin’.

✘

You stay back -- you don’t know much about this mission to save one of their own, but you know you want nothin’ to do with the pigs in that hospital. You’ve met them before, out on the streets of Atlanta, and you have no intention of meeting them again.

The thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

And when there’s trouble with the walkers that crawl to the church, following the hysterical father, you barricade them in alongside Michonne without second thought -- but this turn of fate dredges up this gut-churning feeling of bad luck.

Bad, bad luck.

And then, a fire truck full of friendly faces plow into your concept of bad luck and compounds it with a lie about a cure for all this and a busted trip to Washington.

And then, when you all drag yourselves to Grady Memorial and Daryl Dixon hauls a dead Beth Hershel out those back doors in his arms? When Maggie, the kind woman with the kind drawl crumples at the sight? When Daryl wails and Carol tries -- god she tries -- to calm them both down?

You’re left to wonder if you’re better off alone.

If you and your bad luck is better off in the streets.

Mean and awfully quiet.

✘

The group finds two cars.

They park in the woods and bury Beth at sun-down under a sky of red.

You pass dirt along the grave and remember a prayer from long ago. It’s a croak on your lips but it means something to Maggie, who reaches for your hand and thanks you after it’s all said and done.

Grief sits heavy in Daryl’s gut.

He’s at the edge of the makeshift camp, nothing but a shadow. But, you find him.

In your hands is a can of beans.

You settle next to him on the log. The wood groans but Daryl doesn’t flinch -- his eyes art trained on the low fire that glows before his boots. The embers crackle. He inhales, sharp and fast, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s been crying.

So, you pull your knife from your boot and crack the top of the can open. You gesture it towards him.

“Eat.”

“I ain’t hungry.”

Your jaw tightens.

Silence draws itself up between you and Daryl and dances in the flames of the campfire. You bounce your knee and clutch the can. That suffocating silence swells there, finally bursting when you turn to eye him with a careful amount of worry.

“... Who was she?”

You see his mouth move. His brows knot, then his face falls.

“A friend,” he whispers, “Family.”

You wonder what that’s like -- to have both of those with the current state of things.

(You had it once -- before things fell apart and you started moving on your own. You had a sister and friends and people who had killed for you by your side. You’d killed for them, too. You would, again. Maybe you’d kill for Daryl, too. A part of you already feels like you owe him.)

“I know it’s not my place,” you say slowly, “But she’d want you t’ eat.”

Daryl’s eyes rocket upwards, catching your expression.

He knows your right.

He takes the can and your fingers brush.

“... Thanks.”

And that’s that.

✘

Tyreese.

You liked him.

You forgot how this felt. Loss. Grief. Death.

You stand shoulder to shoulder beside Daryl over a shallow grave.

And you cry.

✘

It’s bad.

You’re bad -- you’re nothing but bad luck and all this? This is how it’s gonna end.

A thousand miles, and for what? To starve on a Georgia highway?

Behind you, like a ball and chain, is a horde of walkers that snarl and gasp and trudge along, waiting for one of you to drop. You wonder if you’ll go first -- if your last meal will really be peaches. Canned fuckin’ peaches.

You swallow, swipe at your clammy skin, and keep moving.

For the first time in a long time, you’re tired of moving. Tired of running. Of being alone.

For the first time in a long time, you glad you’re not alone.

Daryl is lingering behind you. His steps are sluggish and his crossbow is slung across his waist, posed and ready. The vest around his shoulders is soaked, tattered shirt darkened with sweat. You’re no better. The hair along your neck clings with reckless abandon. You spare him a glance, then slow up to match his pace.

You’re quiet for a while, steps falling in with his.

And then you speak.

“I never said thanks.”

Daryl’s face gives nothing away. HIs eyes, though, dart to you for a moment. When you speak, your eyes are off on the horizon.

“That guy was gonna kill me over a can of soup,” you speak slowly, ignoring the garrish flashes of the scene that unfolds behind your eyes every-night, “And you stopped him.”

“... Had to.”

“No,” you shake your head, finally breaking to look at him, “You didn’t.”

He’s quiet for a few feet, then he sighs. “Jus’ ‘cause things have got t’ shit don’t mean people don’t matter.”

Your mouth goes dry. “I’m bad luck.”

“You’re not.”

“Ever since I joined up,” you drawl, movements sluggish as the horizon glimmers, “I... People have --”

“It ain’t your fault.”

His words are firm, backed by a rush of anger that knocks you for a loop. Daryl staggers along, face set in some unreadable way that leaves you wondering what he really thinks -- he’s like Rick and Michonne. Pointed and distrusting, but there’s something else there.

“Tell the others I’m goin’ t’ look for water.”

He dips into the woods and disappears.

Mean and awfully quiet.

✘

He doesn’t find water.

But when the skies split open and pour rivers of rain down on you all, you find yourself not caring. You lay in the street beside Tara and Rosita and you laugh -- peels of joyous sounds that mesh as the group scrambles to grab bags and bottles.

And when the sky roars, you and the group hole up in that barn down off the beaten path.

You curl up in a corner, far from the fire, as the come-down of the day seeps into your bones with the rain.

It’s Daryl who approaches, rousing you from a half-sleep.

He plops down against the hay bail, prompting you to stir.

You inhale and shift, rubbing your eyes. You blink at him, caught in the tired look on his face and the cut of his cheeks. He looks rough -- you haven’t known him long but you know this isn’t him. He’s a ghost of himself. Between grief and starvation, Daryl Dixon looks nothing like the man you’d watched nights ago back in the church, glowing in the light of prayer candles and good grub.

“You okay?” you ask softly, voice nothing more than a mere wisp.

“I wasn’t gonna save you at first,” he blurts, “Wasn’t gonna fight that guy, wasn’t gonna... stop him. Things have been bad and... I don’t --...”

His words die. Your chin drops.

“All this?” he gestures suddenly, “All this is just remindin’ me I’m alive, y’know?”

You turn to eye him, then nod. “Yeah.”

His fiddles with his fingers. Silence creeps between you two and your chest aches with some sort of feeling you’re not too sure of. Maybe it’s dread? Maybe it’s regret or... distrust. You don’t know. But it’s not nice.

“I’d do it again,” he leans, “If I had to.”

“Do what?”

“Kill someone,” Daryl mumbles, “If it meant savin’ you. I don’t regret that.”

You think of the sound the crossbow bolt made when it passed through that man’s skull. You think of Daryl, scrambling to help you up as a group of walkers creep in -- you think of him and Carol, prying you out of the thick of it and saving your fucking life.

“You don’t know me,” you say slowly, “What if I’m not who you think I am?”

“I’d know,” he watches you and you feel like you’re stuck in cement, “Everyone would know. But you ain’t bad. You know that.”

Maybe you do.

Again, the quiet rolls in like mist in the morning. You’ve started to realize it’s a part of Daryl -- he isn’t a talker, not like Glenn or Eugene. He’s quiet and reserved and he picks his words; there’s nothing that doesn’t matter in the way he speaks. It’s all him.

He spins a piece of grain between his fingers.

Your head rolls. You trace his profile with your eyes.

“M’ sorry about Beth.”

“Yeah,” he breathes as he drops his head back, “Me too.”

“... Think we’ll survive this?”

“We always do.”

✘

His name is Aaron.

And you don’t trust him.

You wonder if it’s because you’ve met men like him before -- promising a safe place to rest your head. Promising safety and a future. Those men have all been liars, thieves, murderers.

(You wonder if this is how Rick felt about you. If welcoming you in with Daryl’s blessing was met with the same hesitation? Were you once nothing more than another Aaron?)

But... he’s not lying.

Rick notes your discomfort. He needs that. He needs the good and the bad and the ugly, the trusting and the distrusting. He’s a good leader -- you’re seeing that now in the ex-cop.

That’s how you get shouldered in between Aaron and Michonne in the backseat of that shit-box Lincoln. That’s how you plow through the dead at 45 MPH, heart dropping into the pit of your gut as you haul ass out of the car and plunge your hunting knife into as many heads as you can. Your survival instinct is feverish and terrified and full of desperation; as you roar, Rick watches.

In a flash, something settles between you both.

You book it through the woods and hit Route 16 with no RV in sight.

No Carl, no Judith... No Daryl.

The moon casts inky shadows in your wake.

No time to stop. You all keep moving.

✘

Rick whistles. He gives a call.

There’s a response.

You carry yourself into a collision of an embrace -- Daryl curses, quietly, as he sways on his feet and grips your shoulders tightly. In the light of the alleyway, it’s just the two of you; the moment passes like a ship in the night and peel yourself away with a broken laugh.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back and gauging you. The touch makes his skin hot.

“Fine,” you croak, “You?”

“Never better.”

✘

Alexandria is what they call it.

In the cramped back of the RV, you spare Daryl a look as the vehicle rolls to a stop and Abrahram announces the arrival with a measured level of reservation.

You can’t remember the last time you stopped running.

No better time than the present.

After all, you’re just a feral cat, tryin’ its best to be indoors.

#tenderly feral #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon reader insert #twd imagine #twd x reader #norman reedus x reader #WAHHOOOOO

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woahhiperson · 4 years

Text

Making a new au so here we go:

The ‘idk wot to call it yet au’

So Naga and Grima both have religions connected to them, but what if the Cult of Grima disbanded after Grimas defeat by the first exalt? So people stopped believing in Grima. Grima became another myth, another scary story to tell in the woods to unnerve people.

So Robin is born, but he has the same parents as canon. So he ends up with the right lineage and genes to be

The vessel for Grima!

But no one knows that.

Robin grows up as a tiny bean (his mom IS around and validar isnt a meanie because haha no grima to make all those issues and because i need robin to be happy this au might end up really angsty) and then he turns five or somethin and Robin begins to hear a voice in his head. At this age it is very faint, much like a whisper, and he tells someone, but they just tell him ‘thats your thinking voice’. Robin goes with that for quite awhile until he line 9 or 10 and he’s like ‘this aint my thinking voice’, cause 1: he has a thinking voice and this one is very different, and 2: this one doesnt even have his personality. So Robin once again tries to tell everyone and they deny it again (possibly trying to pass it off as an imaginary friend??).

Robin is frusterated but goes along with it. Time passes, and Robin is now a teenager. the voice gets louder and meaner and he still has no idea what it is. Then he turns eighteen. The voice is pretty much equal in volume to his own thinking voice, and its finally able to tell him “I am the Fell Dragon, Grima.” Now of course Robin is just like ‘what???’ So Robin tries to do some research. Robin is able to find one source, in a very old book. Robin reads of how Grima was ‘the god of destruction’ and how ‘he killed many people’. Robin is well, disturbed, and tries to ask the voice if it really is Grima. The voice tells him one thing: “I am the Wings of Despair, I am the Breath of Ruin, I am the Fell Dragon, Grima.” Robin is like: ok this thing might actually be in my head for some reason?? But he is also internally laughing because wile the voice was threatening, it was still quite funny to hear it almost repeat itself. Robin reads the rest of the small amount of information on Grima, and finds out Plegians used to worship him. Robin gets v e r y nervous. He IS plegian afterall. So Robin puts the book away and sits with this information for a while.

Grima continues to say the same thing, it seems only capable of saying that for now even though it used to berate Robin at almost every turn. Robin gets more nervous and tries to tell someone. Whoever it is, they laugh. They tell Robin that Grima is just a myth. ‘Its just a voice in your head. Don’t even worry about it.’ Robin is well, frusterated. He’s even a little bit scared. ‘The voice only keeps getting louder. What if it can take control?’ Robin begins to get paranoid. He tries talking to other people but they all don’t believe him, saying similar lines of ‘its a myth’. Robin feels a need to get to the bottom of this, and he is technically an adult now, so he ventures off with a small amount of gold to go find more information on The Fell Dragon.

He ventures around Plegia, but is unable to find much more information in the places accessible to him. And he even snuck in some places. He finds some buildings with Grima-like markings but they all seem run down and the few markings left were practically unreadable. All the places seemed destroyed on purpose, but destroyed long ago. (They were destroyed by the cult of grima for one reason or another, but robin dont know that) So since Plegia was lacking info, Robin decides to venture to Ylisse, because it seemed that Grima and Naga were connected somehow.

Robin is sttill unable to really find anything, and the people of Ylisse also denied Grima’s existence. Robin thinks there must be information somewhere, so he settles down in a tiny three room shack (he aint got that much money and hes currently more worried about Grima) with a kitchen, bathroom, and empty room. Robin sets up a bedroom in one half of the empty room, and uses the other half for research. He is able to get his hands on quitw a few books and tries to connect the information together. It takes a long time, and he gets little information from it. Robin starts to think that he’s going to need the more valuable history books and scripts for this.

So one day he is on his way the capitol, and is walking through a field. He is almost to the town when he stumbles and falls into the dirt. People find him and one person (yall all know where this is going) offers a hand. Robin takes it and is introduced to Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick. He learns that they are out all patrol and that Chrom and Lissa are royalty. Now this sparks a plan in Robin. He could try to see if they’d let him into the rarest history documents. So he asks and is shot down by Frederick, who is suspicious of someone just wanting access to such important documents. Chrom is like ‘Robin asked nicely so we should let him’ Frederick scolds Chrom for being too trusting. (honestly robin is kinda suspicious rn..) So they part ways.

Robin continues his search, and every once in a while, he’d find another small snippet of information. He begins to gain a reputation of ‘The guy with a weird obsession with Grima who believes the Fell Dragon lives in his mind’ and so people are a l i t t l e reluctant to give information. Robin is able to still get money through small jobs and stuff. Robin gets a little more disheveled as time goes by and Grima only gets louder. He meets Chrom on multiple occasions, and they eventually bechrom friends. Robin gets a ton of information written down and connected. But it still isnt enough.

Chrom can see how Robin is getting more frantic, and begins to worry. Robin brushes him off as he bechroms more secluded. Grima gets louder and is able to once again berate Robin. Grima begins telling Robin how no one will ever believe him and help him, how he’ll never be able to figure it out.

And so Robin goes to Chrom. The thing is, Robin liked having Chrom as a friend, so he never told Chrom about any of it. Chrom only knew he was researching something. So Robin sits him down for a chat. He starts off simple “I think the Fell Dragon, Grima, lives in my mind. Of course, Chrom laughs about it, but he stops upon seeing Robins face fall. Robin tries to tell him about it all, but unfortunately, like everybody else, Chrom was raised to believe Grima was a myth. Chrom is worried, thinking maybe Robin had been alone for too long. Chrom still wants to help, but he doesn’t believe Grima is the issue. Robin gets frusterated and attempts to politely leave, but is a little rude.

Chrom is very worried, and tells Lissa and Frederick. They also worry. Chrom wants to be a helpful bean but this information begins to spread like wildfire. If Robin wasn’t known before, he was now. This ain’t a good thing either. People make fun of Robin, and Robin begins to get more bitter and cold due to bearing constant mockery from Grima and others. Grima is at a shouting volume in Robin’s head, and is able to give Robin a headache everytime he speaks. Things are not going well, but Robin is still too paranoid to go back home.

Then Robin is sitting alone one night, looking over his information. There’s a knock on the door. He gets up to see who it is. Then he collapses. In his head is a low rumble, one that slowly rises in volume until Robin wants to shout at it to go away. His vision blurs, gaining a red tint. In the panic and pain Robin remembers something. It’s his twentieth birthday. He was born some time in the early night. The rumble stops. There’s a dead silence. Then a cold laughter begins to ring in his ears. It morphs into a sentence,”My patience has been tested.. And I won.” Robin is confused as the pain stops, and his eyes focus again. Then its as if a force slams down on him, shoving him down into his own body. His vision blurs again and he goes numb. He tries to turn his head, only to see black. He turns around in every direction. Its all a pitch black void. Everywhere but where his eyes last looked. Then the view changes, as if he’s stood up. A voice comes, slightly muffled,”Robin are you okay in there?!” It was Chrom. The laugh starts again. Its not in his head. Robins hand is brought to his face, sparking with electricity, before being moved away. He ‘walks’ and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Robin reels back as he now has six glowing red eyes, six black wings, and horns on his head. The Robin in the mirror smiles before going to open the door. Robin realizes what has happened. Grima took over. Was there a way to take control again!? Robin is quite frantic, but the void is, well, a void. No end, the only thing in there was the vision. The door is opened and Chrom is obviously taken aback, asking what had happened. Grima laughs and his hand begins to fizzle again. Luckily Chrom notices and backs away before being stabbed with a spear of electricity. Grima begins launching an attack on ‘that wretched Naga spawn’. Robin could now hear Grima’s thoughts. They really had switched places. Robin could only watch as Chrom drew his sword and the two began to fight. Both are hurt, but Robin does live in a town, and people begin to notice. Robin hears multiple gasps of ‘is that really grima??’ And similar lines. Some try to help, but they are kind of useless.

The fight chromtinues. Then Grima charges another spear, and drives it through his stomach. Robin screams. Grima laughs about that. Chrom falls unconscious, but still breathing. Grima rises into the air on his wings and continues to laugh. “You all didn’t believe the vessel, but now you can see, I have returned after so long. I am not a myth, but I am the Fell Dragon, Grima!” And Grima begins to attack the town. After a while he stops and thinks ‘can a revert to my dragon form?’ He tries, only for it to fail. Grima is furious and goes back to end Chrom for good out of rage, only to find the prince gone. Robin by now has found out that Grima cannot hear him unless he actually speaks, so he is able to internally sigh with relief as Chrom might be okay. Grima goes on a rampage and guards try to stop him, only to fail. Grima is not back to full power, but he is still extremely dangerous.

So he goes and begins to try and take over Plegia, and remake his cult. He attacks and stuff and finds Robin’s parents. They are of course freaked out and pained to know that Robin was telling the truth. Grima is able to take about half of Plegia for himself. Soon the Shepherds return and want to defeat Grima. (Haha soon... this is probably like three or four years later) Chrom is luckily alive and is quite angy about Grima taking his ‘friend’. They fight and have to retreat. They join with the Plegians that have been trapped in Grima’s controlled land and use the next 1-2 years to form a full rebellion. Grima has made the dragon’s table his home. He is finally able to conjure his dragon form, but only can keep it for about a day before needing another day’s rest. But his human form is powerful enough gor him to not need the dragon form very often. The rebellion makes its way to the Dragon’s Table, a force of about 2,000 people. Grima has countless Risen guarding and controlling his land, but the rebellion is able to get to Grima.

Grima transforms into his dragon form to end the rebellion for good, but Chrom and a few others are able to make it to him and end up on his back once transformed. They fight the summoned risen and make it to the human form. Chrom once again fights Grima. Robin, still stuck inside his own mind, feels hope. A feeling he truely hadn’t felt in years, but the only way he could think of that would get rid of Grima, was his own death. And he accepted it. Chrom and Grima both were able to go unharmed for quite a long time. Risen kept the others from helping. Then there was a loud hiss from Falchion as it sliced through the palm of his hand. It burned unlike any injury had before. Even the other cuts from Falchion on their first fight hadn’t felt like this. Grima’s vision blurred as he was partially shoved back into Robin’s mind. The dragon almost fell, quickly stabling itself. Robin stood, speechless, as he had regained partial control of his own body. He was distracted, and Falchion was able to leave a deep gash in Robin’s arm as he began to flee. Grima shouts and takes back control. But Robin isn’t completely locked away again. Where he has been cut, his hand and forearm, he could feel a small amount of control. Grima kept trying to fire magic at Chrom, but if it was cast by the right arm, Robin could mess up his aim. Grima figured this out and Robin was rendered almost useless. Robin tried to still help as both Grima and Chrom began to sustain more injuries. Robin was able to mess up Grima’s attacks and dodging. Every wound gave him more control. Soon Grima was barely able to fight, as Robin forced him to be hurt. But Chrom was also starting to struggle, as he has been sustaining multiple injuries as well. Chrom wasn’t aware of Robin’s help. He thought Robin was gone. So he went to try and slash Grima’s neck, convinced that his ‘friend’ was gone forever. Robin had gotten Grima to fall. But Robin couldn’t help but flinch, holding his right hand over his neck. The blade connected and sliced through the glowing mark that stained the hand. A great tremor shook through the dragon. Grima screamed in utter fury and agony as Robin could feel his presence fade away. The numbness turned into a sensation of wind and scales. Grima’s roar died down, his gritty voice gone. Robin felt something he had almost never felt. Emptyness. But.. It was good! Grima was.. completely gone. He couldn’t feel the god’s presence at all. His eyes began to burn. But then he saw a wrathful blade swing at him, and he had to dodge. Finally meeting eyes with Chrom after all these years. Chrom kept trying to attack him but Robin shouted,”It’s me! Grima’s gone!” Chrom only got angrier, believing Grima was just taunting him. Robin kept trying to convince him that Grima was truely gone. Then he decided to tell him,”No one ever believed me before. Please, believe me just this one time..” Chrom stopped and stared at Robin. Stumbling to Robin with wide eyes and dropping Falchion, he focused on his face. Noticing they were brown after being red for so many years. “..Robin...” Robin could only give a smile, as the now dead dragon began to drop from the sky. All the people on the back rushed to the pegasi and flew down. Once making it down to the ground safely, a cloud of dust forming and dieing down from the dragon’s impact, the Risen all fell, dead once more. The rebellion tried to attack Robin, but understood that Grima had no control over him anymore. Chrom once again turned to Robin and enveloped him in a hug as both began to shed tears, but for different reasons. Robin was still in disbelief that he was alive and free from Grima’s grasp, and Chrom could only choke out one whisper into Robin’s ear,”I love you..” Robin froze but nodded, agreeing. “I thought I lost you.” “Me too.”

(Woah that made a big space) And so they go back to Ylisse and make a cross-country announcement about Grima’s defeat and Robin’s return. They get married. But Grima did start another cult. Not everyone who was in Grima’s controlled land was in the rebellion. And upon learning of Grima’s defeat, they wanted him back. So.. is it truely over?

#fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #robin #chrom #grima talky in head au #idk ill find a better name and tag it xD #lissa #frederick #validar #grima #robins mom

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

Under The Bed / Chapter Three, “Down”

-> SERIES MASTERLIST

-> MAIN MASTERLIST

-> READ ON WATTPAD

WARNINGS: Mild swearing???

WORD COUNT: 5.9k words

LEGEND:

* : jump in time

* * : change in point of view

TAGLIST: IDK HOW TO DO THESE, BUT IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED SO YOU KNOW WHEN A NEW CHAPTER IS POSTED, JUST LET ME KNOW! :)

@berrynarrybanana

@wotamelonsugar

SNEAK PEEK OF COURSE ->

THEN

He kept doing that thing, and by thing I mean, showing up and scaring me.

Every night, he popped out from underneath my bed without fail, and scared the bejeezus out of me. He left me crying into my butterfly pillow from an impossibly horrible face he made, an insult he made that I took to heart, or because he wrecked one of my stuffed animals. I didn’t know how to get him to stay away, even if he was kind of cute I’d never tell him that, and when he screws up his blue face to look like a goblin, it’s not very cute.

I dreaded him coming tonight, just like any other night for the last two weeks. He never missed a night, and I had gotten used to staying up past my bedtime until he arrived, sure that that would save me some pain instead of getting woken up to frogs in my bed and gum stuck in my hair. He had told me about doing that to Polly down the street last week, and the last thing I wanted to do was explain that to my parents in the morning. So, I stayed awake even though it was so hard on so many nights. Tonight, it was hard, but in a different way, because I wanted more than anything to be asleep after my third horrible day of school. I had no choice in the matter, and it worked out that Harry showed up right at nine-thirty.

“Wakey wakey, bratty!” a voice booms, and I jump awake.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” I moan, unsure of who or why I announce myself.

“Shiiiiiiit, I was hopin’ ya wouldn’t be. ‘s much mo’ fun t’ scare ya awake, ya hardly made a peep jus’ then,” the voice tuts with a clicking of their tongue. A puff leaves my lips when the light flicks on and his menacing figure appears before my eyes. “Welcome back t’ tha world o’ yer nightmares, Josie, loud and proud. Afraid ‘m back fer anotha night t’ scare yer socks off.”

The My Little Pony covers slide off of me, and I fix the sleeve of my flowery night gown that rode up my shoulder. Ignoring him, I’m met with relief when my fingers grasp the cold familiarity sitting on my nightstand.

“What tha hell, are ya givin’ me tha cold shoulder now?” he retorts with a volume in his voice, but I kn- I hope that he won’t talk loud enough to wake up Mommy and Daddy. “Since bloody when d’ya do that, Josie?”

“I’m reading, shhh,” I tell him, turning past the first few pages of a Clifford the Big Red Dog book until I find the first page with a picture of him and his owner, Emily Elizabeth.

“Oh my days, I can’t believe tha nerve you have, girl,” the monster spits back at me, but with shaking fingers, I try to shove his voice away. I have an even harder time finding happiness in the pictures when it’s so hard to forget that he’s standing right there, ready to attack. “Ya think ya can talk t’ me like that, a full-on monster? Tsk, tsk, you dunno who yer talkin’ t’ here, ya li’l-.”

“Eh-eh-v . . ugh . . Eh-eh-v-r-e-e . . ,” I try to sound out the word at the bottom of the page, but it’s so long and I don’t know this one. “Eh-ev-ree . . won loves Clifford, b-b-b-bee-c-c-cah-ssssss-e he has good m-m-m-a-a-a-n-n-er-r-r-r-s. You don’t have good manners, Harry, that’s something you need to work on.”

“‘Scuse me, Josie Stephens? I reckon ya don’t even know what tha hell manners are, now d’ya, ya li’l shit?”

Gulping, I tear my eyes away from his angry green pair. Looking back to the book, I try to focus on reading the next part. I get the first two words, but then I’m stuck again, sounding it out like a dummy. I don’t understand how so many of my classmates already know how to read, and I don’t!

Creeeeeeeeeak!

My eyes shoot up and find Harry is closer, he must have taken a step towards me. As soon as I had looked up, his feet inch away from me, and I wish I hadn’t. Rubbing at my eyes sleepily, I take a deep breath and try again.

“M-m-m-m-y-s-s-s-eh-l-l-.”

“Myself,” Harry pipes up, and when I forget the book to look at him, we’re both shocked. “Tha word ‘s ‘myself’. ‘I taught him myself,’ it says,” he tells me slowly. Maybe, just maybe, he sounds normal and like me. Who would have thought that could be? “Duh, ‘s an easy word, even a Kindie like you shoulda known that, stupid.”

Shaking my head, I move the hair out of my eyes and continue to read, quieter than before, and yet I feel his eyes on me like a hot pair of sun rays.

“Clifford says p-p-p-l-eeeeee-s w-w-he-n he a-a-s-s-. Why are you laughing at me? I’m only five, we don’t know how to read yet,” I say, pointing my eyes at him. A sound flies from his lips that I’ve never heard before in that way. I think it might be a laugh, a happy one.

“Sounds like I jus’ heard a five year old swear right there. Looks like me job ‘s done, ruining you by teachin’ you yer first curse. Ass,” he titters, walking away and towards the end of my bed.

My throat begs for a glass of water and the words that didn’t make sense anyways become blurry in front of me. Swiping under my eyes, I get rid of the tears the second they warm my cheeks.

“W-What’s this word?” I ask nervously, keeping my head down and refusing to look at him. I know that he likes to see my tears, and I don’t want him to, because then he only becomes meaner. Sniffling, I listen as his steps creak along my floor and his musty smell tickles at my nose.

“Which one?” he groans as if I had asked the most stupid question in the entire world. I don’t answer out loud, and instead, I point to the one that starts with an ‘s,’ but my tired brain doesn’t want to figure it out.

“Sumthin’,” he responds, and it pulls my eyes up and over to him. The light catches in the caramel colored streaks in his hair, and the gold bits in his eyes. Shocks of pink around my room from posters, stuffed animals, books, and my Hello Kitty clock look funny behind him. “Something,” he repeats clearly, yanking the book from my hand to point at a word. “D’ya know this one at least?”

“P-p-p-puh-l-,” I begin, but he interrupts me with a whine of ‘you jus’ read it, c’mon now,’ and I continue until he nods when I say ‘please.’

“And this one?” he continues, pointing to one that starts with a ‘t’ that takes me a few tries until I get it. “What comes afta ‘thank’ usually?”

“You,” I tell him, and he nods, at some point perching himself on the side of my bed like a bird. I almost think I hear him say ‘good,’ but it’s gone before I can decide if I did or not.

The books lining my shelf across the room under the window itch for me to go and grab them, and sound out the words with him that look like nonsense to me. I hold back, and ask Harry to repeat what he said.

“Yer fallin’ ‘sleep,” he notes, bumping shoulders with me. I shake my head and blink hard, knowing that he’s right. “He says ‘thank you’ when he gets sumthin’. And he writes a thank-you note when someone gives him a present . . ,” and before I know it, the words from the pages are dropping from his lips, slowly, telling the story.

I don’t remember my head falling onto his shoulder or him letting it stay there. I definitely didn’t know that when I let my eyes rest for one second that I was going to fall asleep, and that the next time it would all feel like a dream, a far away dream that could never be true.

Because there’s a monster under my bed who’s really gross and mean to me, and he just read me a bedtime story and was maybe nice to me.

That couldn’t be, could it?

* *

The ripe smell of mothballs and wet dogs welcomes me back, ripping away the sweet relief of berries and cream that graced my senses for the last however-long-it-was. My feet land with a loud clap! onto the shambles of wooden decking below. I kick the forgotten remnants of a Scooby Doo stuffy away with the torn toe of my Converse. Loud, raucous laughter echoes around me and is followed by a spit and whizz of a bottle rocket nearby. It paints the ink black sky with shocks of gold and white for a few moments, suddenly making me miss the light. The next thought makes me stumble over a lost pink ukulele with broken strings. I think I miss the smell and the warmth, no matter if I never get cold.

How the fuck can I miss that obnoxiously sweet smell of ripe red strawberries, and decadent cream that they’re drowned in?

Would you shut the fuck up, Harry? What, are you finally going nuts here, on your four hundred and eighth year?

“Oi!” somebody shouts, yanking me from my thoughts much to my gratitude. “Wait up, would ya?!” they continue in their familiar lilt. Stuffing my hands away in my pockets, met with the typical cool temperature of my own body, my feet kick up sand clouds when they stop suddenly.

“What d’ya want, Ni?” I spit back, not bothering to turn my head. His cackle accompanies my boring slide down the Hill of Doom Jr. that he rides like a wave.

“Who put a stick up yer arse, ‘arry?” he gripes, almost losing his footing once we reach the end. “Not a good night with yer kiddies or summat?”

“Sure,” I answer stubbornly, my eyes flitting past the weathered signs slapped onto the pole, pointing every which way with words scrawled onto them. Minneapolis. Chicago. Detroit. Los Angeles. Washington D.C.

“I found some peanut butta at one o’ mine. I s’pose I could be a good mate and give ya some, but y’know what ‘s gonna cost ya. Figure I should get even mo’ than that seein’ as how ‘m deathly allergic.”

“Don’t want any,” I retort, walking around the scuffed Spongebob skateboard and Kim Possible figurine lying beside it, missing her signature head of red hair. But it’s forgotten when my foot steps on something, and I lift it to find a plush Hello Kitty with its head torn off, the white more like a light brown now from all of the shoe prints muddling it. A little stuffy that I know all too well, and had forgotten my handy work with until now.

Somehow, it bothers me more than it should, and tips me over the edge.

“What d’ya mean ya don’t-.”

“I said I don’t want any fuckin’ peanut butter, Ni, and I never said I wanted yer company, now fuckin’ did I?”!” I explode, whirling around and scaring him to the point that he almost runs into me. His unruly eyebrows sink and the neon purple in his eyes shrinks, the scaring of a monster quite comical in the thought.

“Fuck you, ‘arry. Dunno who shit in yer bed, yer always high as a kite afta gettin’ done with that Stephens girl. Jus’ cuz ya couldn’t scare tha lights outta her dis time doesn’t mean ya hafta jump down me throat cuzza it,” he says curtly, shaking his head of silver hair that sticks up at all ends. Muttered words float past me as he walks away with the pep out of his step.

“‘s not that I couldn’t . . ‘s that I didn’t wanna . . fer tha first time,” I curse under my breath, kicking a pink stone riddled with holes off the edge, not waiting to hear its plink! at the bottom of Ghastly Gorge.

Clenching my jaw to stop me from saying all of the words that ricochet inside of my skull, I take a few turns until I step onto a rickety lift. Ignoring the two vampires who cling to each other’s necks with loud suckling noises, I tip my head back and close my eyes against the yellow light of the naked bulb above me. I don’t even lose my footing as the contraption whips from side to side and up and down with the loudest of screeches, lastly halting with a piercing ding!

Sulking my way off and back to unsolid ground, the giggles from the ghoulish pair continue behind me, suddenly making me wish Liza was here. Biting my tongue, I try to forget about her, and the other her. Yanking open the door, it falls off its top hinge and I leave it there hanging, not giving a shit clearly. The squeals of the fireworks are almost out of earshot, but now, the shouting from some kind of game trickles past.

“Can’t even get peace and quiet here o’ all places?” I mutter with a long sigh, pushing harshly at the metal gate. It hits the fence with a deafening clang! of metal on metal.

“Heya, Harry!” somebody shouts and I nod and wave. More ‘hellos’ follow between the gravestones as I kick my feet along the black dirt path. “Oh, on your way to The Rotting River, I see . . Let’s leave him be, lads, he doesn’t look too terrible, the poor bloke,” Henry the Horrid whispers ever so loudly and I toss a hand up in the smallest of thanks, only bringing the memory back bigger and brighter.

Since when do I have fucking manners?

Their transparent white bodies float away with their silent steps, and from the corner of my eye, I see Marcus speed away like a flash of moonlight.

“Why? Why? Why in tha fuck why?!” I scream, pitching the hundred pound rock into the black water, far and away. “What tha absolute fuck am I doin’? ‘m gonna ruin it all, everythin’ ‘ve ever built!” the red rock crashes into the water and under the green cast of the orb hung in the sky, it smatters onyx droplets across the green. I pluck another one from the ground at random, in between shards of bones, glass, and lost lovers necklaces, propelling them into the lazy waves of the river, wishing it was crashing tonight like the throes of my heart. Something I thought I hadn’t had for the last few centuries, but here I am, low and behold, seeming to have one.

That doesn’t happen, it’s not supposed to be. My kind . . we’re not supposed to use them, or even have a working one.

How is it that when I saw the glassy tears in Josie’s eyes tonight, it felt like it was being squeezed in my chest? I can’t explain away the warmth I felt in it when her head fell onto my shoulder, and then when I pulled the covers over her tiny, sleeping body.

I broke a hundred dozen rules tonight, enough to get me sent to the headstones just over the hill, and I can’t decide whether I care or not.

* *

The tater tot casserole sitting in my stomach tried to lull me into an early sleep that next night, but with determination, I ignored it. I sat in bed with my school books in my lap, flipping through the pictures and trying to find familiar words. I knew that I wouldn’t find many, if any, but it didn’t stop me from trying.

I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there after dinner looking through the books and making up my own stories, until my tired eyes glanced to the window. There I sat, watching the last few rays of sun be sucked back into the ground, or that’s how it looked.

Smack!

“Arentcha a li’l old t’ be havin’ shit like this?” a voice pipes up, and before I see him, I smile. I really wish that I hadn’t, because when he turns around, that dark glint in his eye has returned. I don’t know why I thought his voice sounded- what did it sound like, like it had last night? When the words from the Clifford The Big Red Dog book fell from his chapped lips?

All of my questions are answered when there’s a loud crash! and my Hello Kitty pink clock smashes into a puddle of glass at his feet. “Whoops,” he giggles as I suck in air loudly, the dirty bottoms of his shoes crunching through the glass that I’m sure I’ll never get out of my carpet now.

“What, ya think ‘m gonna bloody read t’ you again or sumthin’, brat?” Harry says, nodding to the pile of books that I tighten my grip on now. “Not gonna speak t’ me, are you? Y’know that’s never a good bet, Josie Stephens,” he continues, each word laced with disgust from his lips. He licks them with his chalky pink tongue as the floor creaks with his nearing.

“Don’t!” I squeal when he reaches for the books, but I put up a fight.

“It never does any good fightin’ me, li’l shit, ya should know this by now,” he retorts, giving one last yank with his hands and painfully ripping the books from my grasp. “Ooooo, what d’we got here, huh? More stupid Clifford, Scooby Fucking Doo, Pussy Tom and that minx Jerry, and Peter Bloody Pan. Hmmm, looks like a good lot ya got here, Josie. I reckon they won’t be very easy t’ read if they’re in shreds.”

“Harry, no! Please, those are from school, they’re not mine! I’ll get in trouble with my teacher,” I beg, getting on all fours and crawling across my bed towards him. One look is all he needs to get me to stop, because I know if I took one more step towards him he’d pull out one of those faces that’d make me wet the bed . . again.

“Even better then, love,” he smiles that mischievous smile with his yellow teeth that he swipes his tongue across. I feel a lurch in my chest when the first book begins to look like rainbow snow falling from his fingers, then the next, and the others while he laughs loudly. My pleas for him to stop don’t make any difference, and I fear that they only make his devilish smile brighter and wider across his blue tinted cheeks.

“Why’d you do that?!” I almost scream, and one of his unruly eyebrows raises in answer.

“How many times do I gotta bloody tell ya t’ shut yer mouth?” he lips back in return, tossing the last handful of papery snow behind him.

“No, I won’t! Why’d you read to me last night if you were just gonna do that?” I sob, angry words flying with the tears. It’s only a second, but I think that I surprised him. “I thought you could be nice!”

“Ya well, ‘m not nice, Josie. ‘m a bloody monster, I dunno why you expected that I could ever be nice. Me job ‘snt t’ be nice, ya brat, and that was a fluke - a one time thing that’s never gonna happen ‘gain, ya hear? Stop cryin’ ‘bout yer bloody books and fuckin’ go t’ bed, ya cry baby,” Harry hisses, tightening the frayed red and black flannel tied around his body covered in holey black clothes.

“But you can be nice, I saw it! You are nice, Harry, if you just try!”

“What’d I say, li’l girl, huh? Go t’ bed befo’ I make ya, and ya don’t wanna see that happen, I can promise ya that,” he answers with a stern finger pointed at me. The lights flick off with no warning and I fall back when he pushes me onto my covers. I don’t remember when he left, because I was too wrapped up in the tears flowing down my cheeks, and the fear leaking through them.

He’s right, I am stupid for thinking that the monster who lives under my bed could ever be nice.

* *

Even after I slipped under the bed, and back into my world, her sobs still wrench at my heart and fill my head. It doesn’t matter how far I get away from her door that looks like a pixie threw up on it, pink as can be, I still hear them. If anything, they get louder and swarm around in my head. I shake it a bajillion times, wishing they would leave, and that when I pass other monsters who pat me on the back for the sound of her wails, I wish all the more for them to be gone. Suddenly, I’m not proud of them, and I had thought that the few tears she shed the other night bothered me, but this is anything but that. It rips apart my insides how they dig into the crevices of my mind, and how they pull me back to her.

With every step past the cracked headstones weathered of names and dates of life, my feet become heavier, like cement blocks. With each step, they grow a pound in weight, and the stones and boulders I chuck into the blackness can’t even compare. The shrieks and requital of the pissed off mermaids and slimy grindylows below don’t throw a damper on my exaggerated rock skipping.

“We’re tryna sleep here, ye fool!” one of the pinched faced mermaids bellows at me, propelling the sharp edged stone back at me.

“Does it look like I fuckin’ care what yer doin’?” I scream back, chucking a bigger stone in her direction. She yelps before her muddled neon pink hair disappears below the murky surface. “Fuckin’ mermaids, bloody lot still hate me afta I broke tha heart of yer beloved Hera last century,” I mutter under my breath, at last falling to sit on a smooth, red boulder. Prying the minuscule shards of glass from the soles of my shoes, my dormant lungs beg for air, something that stuck with me past my days as a human.

I don’t need to breathe or let alone be gasping for air, but it never escaped me, although most other mortal things certainly did.

It feels as if a stone stronger and wider than those beneath my feet sits lodged in my throat when I try to swallow, her face stuck behind my eyes. My throat soon feels akin to Darkly Desert a few miles away and the emerald reflected on the toiling waves grows messed up in front of me.

“What tha bloody hell?” I curse, swiping a finger across my cheek and feeling wetness greet my chalky skin. “Christ Almighty,” I breathe, feeling the cool tears scatter my cheeks as my nose sniffles accordingly. “I can’t remember tha last time I had a bleedin’ cry, certainly not since ‘ve been a monster. Tha fuck ‘s happenin’ t’ me?” I croak, my head collapsing into my hands.

“Gotcha heart broken by another girl, Harry?” a slinky voice asks, waves lapping against the rocks at my feet. I don’t need to peek my eyes open to know who it is, their revolting voice and squeaky, wicked laugh tells me the whole story.

“Would ya fuck off, Freya? N’body asked you,” I crack, toeing my shoe through a puddle of rotten weeds that I fling at her. She scoffs loudly and it’s unbeknownst to me whether she scurries away or lingers.

“Me’s hopin’ she did good work on it, if ya even have anythin’ left in there. Guessin’ ‘s a shriveled ol’ black thing by this time,” Freya bites back, making a loud exit and whipping her tail to spray me with the water that reeks of rotted corpses and fish.

“Like you’ve ever had one, Frey, it takes one t’ know one!” I shout, standing to my feet and tossing one more stone in her direction. “N’body likes yer kind anyways, jus’ glorified fish with boobs, you are,” I groan with a shake of my head, my feet crunching with every step over the tiny bones that her and her posse toss to the shore like it’s their own garbage bin.

Questions swim through my mind as I hike up the hill muddied by last night’s boiling hot rain showers, wondering how I can fix this. I jumped right past the wondering and decision making, and have landed right at the ‘how.’

I really do have a problem here, but the one that concerns me isn’t the existential one of sorts.

“Open alfucking ready!” I shout, pounding my fist on the chipped wooden door, streaked with red. I’m not sure if I want to ask the question of what made it red. “Zekey, c’mon open up , you git!” I continue, lifting my fist for another blow right when the door swings open.

“Da fuck d’yeh want, ‘arry?” he sighs in return, rubbing at his eyes and only further smearing the black makeup surrounding them. “Shouldn’t yeh be out on yer route, and not buggin’ me?”

“‘m uh, in between kiddies right now, Z. Ya busy, mate?” I explain softly, biting at my nails but there’s not much left to bite.

“Apparently not, and would it even matta if I was? ‘m sure yeh’d still barge right in, wouldntcha?” he tuts, turning around and leaving the door open for me. “By tha way, did yeh fookin’ tell Ly’ that I revoked his invitation? Told yeh not t’, I found him snoggin’ me girl and that’s reason enuff t’ banish him from here, I reckon.”

“Nah, that wasn’t me. Maybe it was Ni, I dunno. Can we get on with this, ‘s important,” I rush, tip toeing a careful trail through his doorway littered with empty beer bottles, cardboard pizza boxes, and cigarette butts. “D’y’know how t’ bloody pick up fer once, Z? Yer not even a monster, so ya can’t fall back on tha ‘messy monster’ cliche, mate.”

“I dont’ rememba askin’ yeh, ‘arry. Now, what tha fook d’ya want that I had t’ wake up fer?” Zeke responds with disdain laced in his voice, collapsing onto his maroon sofa that’s by far seen better days, perhaps last century even.

“‘m takin’ up that favor o’ mine ya owe me, and don’t even say sumthin’ like, ‘oh, what favor?’ Cuz ya bloody well know what favor, need I remind you?”

“No, no. My bloody God, ‘arry, jus’ name it already. ‘m not gettin’ any younger sittin’ here waitin’ fer yeh t’ explain yerself away, am I now?” he sighs, raking a hand through his spiked, electric green hair. I nod and with an unnecessary breath, I steady myself, and prepare the sentence that I’ve rehearsed over and over.

“I need some o’ yer Fix-It Dust,” I say slowly, waiting for his reply.

“That’s all? God, yeh scared me, thinkin’ I needed t’ hex somebody, bring a lover back from tha dead, or wipe a memory,” Z chuckles, springing up from the sofa and across the room to his bookshelf that’s never changed in appearance since that day I met him at the Wobbly Waterfall and came back here. “There, easy ‘nough,” he announces a moment later, tossing a small, dark bottle at me. The bookshelf behind him slides closed, and the fluorescent bottles coloring the rainbow disappear behind the moving novels.

“Thanks, Z.”

“Don’t mention it, Hare. I dunno why yeh think that warrants a favor,” he replies with a soft laugh and shrug of his shoulders.

“What d’ya mean?”

“‘s bloody dust, mate, not a bleedin’ spell, jinx, or body swap. Tell anybody I did this fer you, and yer screwed, but tha favor still stands. Good luck with whateva tha fuck it ‘s, I don’t care and don’t wanna,” he insists, waving a hand at me.

“I appreciate it, mate, thank you.”

“Since when d’yeh have fricken manners, Hare? Yeh gettin’ soft on me, or sumthin’?” he giggles, crossing his pale arms riddled with black ink, one or two of them my own handiwork.

“Oh, would ya learn when t’ shut yer fuckin’ mouth, Zeke?” I scoff with a tut of my head, turning around and kicking a few beer bottles out of my path.

“Hare, a softie? It really mus’ be tha end o’ days a comin’,” he titters from behind me, soon the sound of his TerroVision roaring to life.

“Mention that t’ anyb’dy and ‘ll knock a few mo’ o’ yer teeth out, mate!” I counter, hearing the last few licks of his laugh before the door slams behind me.

“This shite better magic me way back onto her good side,” I sigh, turning the dark bottle over in my hands, watching the flecks of fluorescent orange trickle around, and wondering just what the hell I’m doing. “I need t’ fix me fuck up befo’ ‘s too late,” I say, shoving it into my pocket hurriedly and padding down a flight of chipped steps, my heart thumping harder with every step that nears her.

Her decadent smell of berries and cream welcomes me back first, and then the sound of her slow snores. Her Scooby Doo night light smiles at me ironically, shedding light on the piles of torn paper on the cream carpet. Never, did I feel so guilty. The dried tears staining her cheeks and the heart wrenching sniffling in her sleep only make matters worse. Her mattress sags under my weight and I watch how her chest rises and falls with every breath, a sensation I can’t remember experiencing, but then again, I’ve never tried to remember it. I thumb away the strands of golden hair cast over her face, her smell wafting over me when I brush my thumb against her warm skin. Toasty breaths against my hand remind me that they feel like icicles, and that somehow long ago, they used to feel like her. They used to feel human, and so did I.

“‘m so sorry, Josie, for ruinin’ yer books and clock. Pinky promise ‘ll fix ‘em. Right here and now,” I whisper softly, placing the wild strand of hair behind her ear adorned with an earring of a little, pink ice cream cone. Standing up, I look over my shoulder to make sure I didn’t wake her.

She’s not really a heavy sleeper or a light one, I’ve found, somewhere in the middle instead. With my back to her, my grimey shoes come to freeze before the flurry of colored paper below me. Nibbling at the inside of my cheek, fretting, I fish the bottle from my pocket. The brown cork slides from the opening easily with a pop! before I turn it around in my hands, finding Zekey’s chicken scratch on the other side.

After sprinkling on your screw up, chant these words and it’ll magic your mistake away, like it never happened. Three times is a charm.

Fixus Motalus

“Easy enuff,” I mutter, stuffing the cork away into a pocket. Tipping the bottle to the side, I tap my finger against it to watch the glowing dust fall to the floor. “Fixus Motalus. Fixus Motalus. Fixus Motalus,” I recite and within a blink, the pile of torn books sparkles before an imaginary wind kicks them up into a tornado of sorts, mending themselves back together before my smiling eyes.

My steps leave creaks along her carpeted floor, something I’ve always hated, because it gives me away. I just hope it won’t do that very thing now, when I need to remain in secrecy more than ever before.

“C’mon, Posie, where’s yer markers? They’ve gotta be here sumwhere, bein’ a little kiddie and all,” I sigh, my eyes searching her desk that, of course, is a baby pink. Only when I pull open a drawer do I find a stack of plain paper, and a plastic box chalk full of markers.

Plucking one of the papers from the stack and a blue marker, I quickly scrawl a note on it before the cap clicks! back onto the marker. I’m careful to shut the drawer quietly and to not move a thing from its place, besides the Aladdin water bottle on her bed stand. Beside it, I find room to place the shiny pile of books with her teacher’s name written on the front, and with my note sat on top.

She continues to snooze away, unknowing of my presence, and ignoring the crackling of glass below my feet at the end of her bed. As silence trickles through the house, I watch until every last sparkling fleck has fallen from the bottle to the floor, leaving it empty. A small tornado of sharp glass whirls into the air above the floor, and like a puzzle, they fit themselves back into the pink frame of the clock. With a whooooooosh!, it flies itself back up the wall and to the nail that it hung from, a shiny glint on its glass.

“I dunno what yer doin’ t’ me, Josephine May Stephens,” I cluck softly, hands stuffed in my pockets as I trudge over to her bed and find a seat in front of her. “But I know ‘s no good, that’s fo’sure . . cuz I think I may be gettin’ a soft spot for you . . and monsters don’t get soft spots for kiddies, we hate you lot typically. Yet, here I am, thinkin’ I might be likin’ a kiddie. ‘m in fer real trouble with you, aren’t I, lovie?”

* *

Sun stretches through my blinds the next morning, trying to reach me. Groaning, I turn over in my bed and call back to my mom when she knocks on my door, asking if I’m awake. Flying up to sit, my eyes race around the room, hoping she won’t walk in.

“Alright, honey. Breakfast is ready, come and eat before it’s cold.”

“Okay, Mom!” I reply, swinging my legs over the side of the bed as I lift the covers, accidentally hitting my bedside table. Something falls to the floor with a slap! and my tired eyes follow curiously.

“What was that? I didn’t have anything on the table last night,” I yawn, my feet falling onto the carpet. “Huh?” I exclaim with wonder, falling to my knees and picking up the pile of books, the very same stack that Harry shredded to pieces last night. Questions roll through my head and no answers come as I flip through the pages that are just like before, not even a page tear in sight. “This is really weird . . Am I still dreaming?” I mumble. Something tells me to lift my head and when I look at the wall, there sits my Hello Kitty clock with her arms telling me the time, ticking along just fine.

Huffing, I glance back to the books but they’re forgotten when I see a piece of paper on the floor. Wait, that wasn’t there before, was it? I never wrote a note or colored last night before bed. Reaching a hand out, I pick it up and find that this morning can only get weirder, and weirder.

“If only I could read you, because I bet you’re from Harry, and then all of this silliness would make sense to me,” I huff, stashing the note in my side table’s drawer and trudging downstairs, wondering what to expect tonight from the monster under my bed who signs his notes with a really bad drawing of a monster.

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propertyofnikkisthighs · 4 years

Text

She’s My Collar pt. 3

Trigger warning: Mentions of domestic abuse

“It’s been 3 days Riv. You’re gonna have to talk to me about what the fuck happened the other day.” Tommy says standing on my balcony smoking a cigarette.

How do I even begin to explain myself though? I swipe his pack of cigarettes off the railing and light one taking a drag. Tommy raises an eyebrow at my actions, but otherwise is non reactive to the nasty habit I’ve picked up and quit for what felt like a million times.

“I’ve known Kevin most of my life.” I start, my voice already beginning to shake. “He is a few years older than me and worked on my grandparent’s farm and I was head over heels for him. Like I used to follow him around as he cleaned the barns level in love because he was always so kind and sweet to me.”

Tommy just nods his head along and I continue.

“We got married right after I graduated high school and that was when he stopped being so sweet. He found he preferred cuddling a bottle of vodka at night a lot more than he liked cuddling up with me. Then, instead of hitting the bottles, he hit me.”

Tommy’s hand curls into a fist at his side and he blows hard out of his nose. “Go on” he says and I can tell he’s working on keeping his cool.

“When I found out I was pregnant the beatings stopped for a little bit. He, um, seemed really happy for a while and I really thought this was what we needed to be happy again. Boy was I wrong.” I hadn’t even realized tears were streaming down my face until I felt them hitting my trembling hands in my lap.

“He came home one night drunker than I had ever seen him and meaner than he had any right to be and just let loose on me. A neighbor heard me screaming thank god and called the cops or I might have died that night along with our baby. We come from a pretty small town so there wasn’t much help for me to leave him, most people thought it wasn’t their business. About a month later I took every last dime I had, all the clothes I could carry, and left my ring and the life I had under ‘Rebecca’ there and came to L.A.. That was about a year ago.”

I looked down to see Tommy had silently slipped his hands into mine as I was recounting the story that I had hoped to never have to explain to anybody. He rubbed his thumb against the back of my hand and took a deep breath.

“I promise you Riv, I will kill him if he so much as looks at you again.” I’m soon crushed against Tommy’s chest in a tight hug and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t the safest I had ever felt in the last year. Hell, the last few years.

“Thank you Tommy, but I don’t want you boys to get caught in the crossfire.”

“What else will you do then?” He asks quietly.

“Probably pack up and move elsewhere. Somewhere he can’t find me.”

“No.” Tommy says standing straight up. “No you can’t leave Riv we just started being friends.” He paces back and forth on the small balcony while lighting another cigarette.

“You guys are on your way to doing big shit T-Bone. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“That’s even more of a reason to let the guys and I protect you?” He says as if it’s obvious. “Besides, you’re our photographer. Who else is going to capture all the nudity on camera?”

“You know for a second there you weren’t a gross pig.” I try to not mirror Tommy’s face splitting grin, but I’m not that strong.

“Atta girl.” He bounces up and walks in my house as if he lives there and calls behind him “Come on let’s go to the diner for pancakes. My treat.” I didn’t question how he earned the money to pay this time. I knew it was rarely legal.

I double over laughing in the booth for nearly the tenth time at another story of the stupid shit Tommy has done. We’re the same age, but I can’t help but feel inferior in the life I’ve lived. Besides packing up and moving out of town to come to L.A. on a whim, I haven’t done anything exciting. Tommy has had enough experiences for two lives.

“So anyway Nikki comes up with the genius idea to stick our dicks in breakfast burritos to cover up any scent that we had just fucked these other chicks. Cause like our girlfriends couldn’t know right?” He pauses to sip his Coke and pours the rest of his Jack shooter into my coffee.

“Tommy Lee!” I scold in a hushed whisper.

“Let me finish my story. So anyway me, Sixx, and Vinnie are basically fucking these burritos in the back of my van at the ass crack of dawn to all go home to our girlfriends because Vince wanted to fuck a bride to be at her bachelorette party.” Tommy stuffs more pancakes into his shit eating grin.

“Tommy you guys are insane. How the hell am I friends with you lunatics? Mick is the least insane one and he’s hardly around.” I laugh sipping my spiked coffee wincing only a tiny bit at the burn of the whiskey.

“You just haven’t known Mick long enough. He gets crazy too.” He wags his eyebrows at me suggestively “And you get to capture those moments on film”

“Oh lucky me.” I feign excitement and he tosses a sugar packet hitting me in the face. The walk back to the apartment from the diner is filled with just as many laughs as our meal was and my cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling. Tommy has one arm slung around my shoulder while his other swings at his side besides when he takes a puff of his cigarette. Tommy is everything my parents would’ve hated to see me hanging around with, let alone being as close with him as we are now. He had long dark hair, wore make up, and the only real work ethic he had was put into his drumming (that’s not to say he didn’t have work ethic they just wouldn’t have seen it that way).

“Ya wanna know something Riv?” Tommy asks looking everywhere that isn’t at me.

“I wanna know everything at all times.” I joke and he hip checks me lightly. A grin spreads across his face and I wonder if his cheeks hurt like mine from smiling so much.

“You have huge eyes.” He says finally.

I stop in my tracks and stare at him mouth agape.

“Tommy Lee are you making fun of me?!” I shriek and he’s double over laughing at my expression.

“I’m kidding! Well kinda.” I shove at him lightly and begin to walk away, but his hand in mine stops me from leaving him to laugh on his own and we resume walking together to the apartment this time hand in hand.

“What I was actually gonna say was-” Tommy’s grip on my hand tightens and a scary look casts over his features.

I follow his line of sight to see Kevin speaking to the landlord that lived on the floor level. It looked like he hadn’t noticed us yet and I wanted to keep things that way. I tug Tommy’s hand trying to pull him up the stairs to our floor out of his line of sight.

“Oh am I interrupting date night?” I hear behind me. Busted.

“Kevin. Not now.” I hiss not wanting to draw any attention to us.

“I’m sorry did I your HUSBAND interrupt your date with your new fuck buddy?” Kevin raises his voice.

“I’m only going to tell you once dude, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Tommy growls out between grit teeth.

“Hey nobody tells me how to talk to my fucking wife.” Kevin steps closer. Tommy doesn’t step back being that it’s hard to be intimidated by a man at least six inches shorter than you. “She left you bro. Get the fuck over it and move on.” Tommy had somehow maneuvered me behind him and positioned himself in front of me. Kevin clearly didn’t take kindly to that.

“Listen, dick head, I’m not leaving without my fucking wife. You can find someone new to fuck in a city like this. I guarantee she isn’t the only whore”

And that’s when I hear it, the sound of a fist connecting with a face and teeth clanking together. Tommy is on Kevin before I even have time to full process that a punch was thrown. Tommy had the element of surprise and uses that to his advantage to land a few good punches to Kevin’s face. Kevin’s foot connects with Tommy’s gut and gives him the opportunity to get up and land a few punches of his own.

“Guys please stop!” I’m shouting trying to get them off each other without getting hit. I know there’s nothing I can do physically so I do the only thing I can think of doing. And I scream for Nikki.

Nikki is pulling Tommy off of Kevin who looks worse for wear than I had ever seen him. Kevin’s lip is busted, he’s got a black eye forming, and there is blood coming from both a cut on the top of his nose and from his nose in general. Tommy has a small cut on his cheek, also what looks like a black eye coming, and is bleeding from somewhere inside his mouth because he spits blood on Kevin. Kevin charges at him again, but is knocked on his ass by Nikki kicking him square in the gut.

“Enough!” Nikki screams and a small part of me is scared by the sound.

I don’t bother to make sure Kevin is okay before I follow the boys up to our floor. I race into my own apartment to grab some painkillers, a washcloth, and a bag of frozen peas for Tommy. When I get into their apartment I see Tommy downing some whiskey from the bottle and he tries to smile at me and winces. I gently pluck the bottle from his hand and set it on the counter next to him. I run the washcloth under water and begin to clean the blood off his face. He hisses as I dab at the cut on his cheek and lip trying to be gentle so I don’t make the bleeding start again.

“Hey River, could you maybe not try to get my drummer killed?” Nikki jokes knocking back some of the whiskey. Tears well up in my eyes despite me knowing there’s no malice behind his words.

“I’m so sorry Tommy.” I sob tears cascading down my face.

“Hey, hey shhh” Tommy tries to console me by hugging me to him. “These things, they happen. Hang out with Sixx and I long enough and you’ll be bailing us out of jail in no time.”

“Fuck I’m surprised you haven’t already.” Nikki pipes up.

“This is all my fault if you wouldn’t have tried to stick up for me you wouldn’t have gotten hit.”

“I swung first.” He chuckles rubbing my back.

“Atta boy!” Nikki bellows and we all have a good laugh at that. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could sure use a fucking shot.” Tommy tosses back two painkillers and washes them down with a swig of whiskey offering the bottle to me.

“Fuck it.” I shrug and down two big gulps and pass the bottle to Nikki. He’s clapping me on the back while I hold the frozen peas to Tommy’s eye and pretend I can’t feel Tommy’s thumb rub tiny circles on my thigh where I’m standing between his legs. And I pretend the warmth I feel is from the alcohol and not because of the way he looks at me.

#she's my collar #mgk!tommy lee fan fic #mgk!tommy lee #douglas booth!nikki sixx #douglas booth!nikki sixx fanfic #daniel webber!vince neil fanfic #daniel webber!vince neil #iwan rheon!mick mars fanfic #iwan rheon!mick mars #the dirt fan fiction #motley crue fanfic #nikki sixx fanfic #tommy lee fanfic #vince neil fanfic #mick mars fanfic #tw: domestic abuse

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ticklybtswriter · 5 years

Text

what you deserve

summary: you had been teasing your lers too much for their liking. one particular tactic to get the tickles you craved, though, proved to be a bit too effective.

request: Finally thought of a request: could you write a scenario where you've been teasing the boys a lot, like exposing your spots in front of them or mentioning how sensitive you are, until they get frustrated and gang up on you? Love your writing btw :)

warnings: nsfw-ish themes (not soft tickles at all skdfmlksdfm), bondage, being nearly naked but not entirely, kind of submissive/dominant if you look close, excessive use of princess because this is me we’re talking about there

author’s note: brought the brat out for this one, guys... i hate saying that because it means i’ve admitted defeat... but anyway, i’m really excited for this fic!! i’m always a fan of punishment tickles akmflskmdf ahhh

Let’s get one thing straight: you knew what you had done. You were well aware of the fact that you had been teasing them, probably past the point of no return.

You had taken deliberate moves just so you could get them all in ler moods. You would show off your sides and stomach when on the couch, masking your teasing through a faked yawn and stretch. You’d also told them how sensitive your muscles were whenever you woke up, knowing that they were already aware of your nerves’ heightened state.

It seemed, though, that they had taken a page out of Taehyhung’s book. Whenever you were being bratty, he would stubbornly hold out on giving you tickles until you became a good little girl again. But for some reason, you wanted to push limits you never even neared before.

You were home alone, still deprived of your tickles. You were plotting new ways to get what you wanted, but you were drawing blanks. Well, you were until you were scrolling through a tickle blog on Tumblr and saw a picture of a girl showing off her bare tummy with a teasy caption beneath.

The smirk on your face could’ve rivaled Namjoon’s had anyone seen it.

You took a few hundred photos of every sensitive spot. From your neck to your stomach to your socked feet. You were a bit hesitant to send them at first, but then you remembered that they were being the stubborn ones. After that, you had all the confidence needed to press that “send” button before a series of pictures were forwarded to your group chat with them.

They were in dance rehearsal so you didn’t expect to get a reply as quickly as you did. It was only from one person, Jin, someone who was pretty well-tempered when it came to your antics. However, the message conveyed anything but the typically serene Jin you knew.

It merely said: Oh you’re in for it tonight kitten.

You were buzzing with anticipation; giddy or fearful, you couldn’t quite tell yet. The text from Jin kept you on edge, especially since that was the only one you had gotten and it had seemed so definite. You questioned whether you’d taken it too far, but then you realized it meant you were getting what you wanted.

Thinking too far into the outcome of this wasn’t going to last long. You heard the jingling of keys from the front door. What put you off was how silent the men behind said door were. Usually, they’d be laughing or groaning about how exhausted they were, yet you didn’t hear anything.

The door swung open. The first person you saw was Hoseok, his eyes instantly connecting with yours. It was almost eerie how quickly he captured you with his hypnotic, dominant stance.

“Hello, princess!” He announced gleefully. “Did you enjoy your day?”

It was a trick question, you were sure of it. You weren’t sure what the trick was, but Hoseok was too cheerful to actually be that, even for Hoseok.

You didn’t get to answer before Jimin was standing beside him. He held up a photo of your thighs next to his head. “Oh, I’m sure she did, hyung. Didn’t you, princess? Putting your lers in the mood while they were working must’ve been so much fun for you, huh?”

Now you saw the trick to the question. “U-Um, well, you see-”

“What I see is a little brat who needs to be dealt with,” Jungkook made his way towards you. He picked you up by your legs, making sure to steady you over his shoulder. “And we’re not going to waste any time in doing that.”

Next to feeling totally helpless in Jungkook’s grasp, the worst part about your ascent up the stairs to your room was seeing the other six men smirking at you as they leisurely strolled after you and Jungkook. It was more flustering seeing them so calm then seeing them angry like you envisioned.

“U-Um, I’m sorry?” You whimpered to Namjoon who had been closest to you.

“Aww, it’s too late for apologies, baby girl,” You simply told you. “You made your lers unfocused during rehearsal today. For that, you need to be punished.”

Your face went bright red. The promise of your demise hung in the air, and everyone around you chuckled darkly at the wide-eyed stare you gave them when you finally realized how totally screwed you were.

You’d only ever been punished by them once, and truthfully, you couldn’t feel your diaphragm for a week. You had stayed curled in a ball for hours until Jimin and Taehyung had to coax you out of bed. It was so wonderful, yet so horrid at the same time with terribleness outweighing what was so pleasing about it.

Jungkook deposited you onto the bed. He was careful as to not hurt you but also put you down in a way that let you know he was in control.

“Arms up, baby,” He commanded. When you kept your hands firmly to your chest, he sighed. “Do you really want to play that game, darling? You know how impatient my hyungs can get, and we wouldn’t want to keep them waiting. After all, the longer they have to wait to get their hands on you, the meaner they’re going to be.”

A part of you wanted to resist, just to keep up that tough facade, but even you weren’t bratty enough to go against seven angry lets. You put your wrists together and above your head like he had instructed.

“There’s our good girl~” Taehyung cooed.

With all seven of them working together, they were able to get you out of most of your clothes save your undergarments and have your arms tied nice and tight above your head.

“Look at you all pretty and tied up~” Jin purred next to your ear.

“Where should we start?” Yoongi asked the room as he cracked his knuckles, something he knew drove you up a walk.

“I say...” Jimin started ever so softly trailing his fingers across your bare stomach. “We take this nice and slow.”

Another thing that drove you insane: when they all decided to warm you up with tickles by doing this. They were the tickles that were just barely there, the ones that weren’t enough to even get a giggle out of you. The point of this was to make you squirm, and you squirming was euphoric to them.

“P-Please, don’t t-t-tease me!”

“What’s that?” Hoseok asked mockingly. “Are you actually telling us not to tease you? After everything you’ve put us through these past few days?”

“The audacity!” Jin scoffed. He emphasized his point with a quick scribble to your side.

It came as a shock from the light tracing, forcing a squeak from your lips. “AH!”

“Making cute noises already, baby girl?” Namjoon question teasingly.

You shook your head, even though you knew it was futile. Whenever they heard a squeak or a rogue giggle that was cuter than the others, it was an incentive for them to thoroughly wreck you. You were aware of their new desire when Namjoon brought this up and they knew that you knew as well.

“Ready?” Yoongi asked you.

“No!”

“Good~”

That was when the merciless torture officially began.

It was evil, beyond that. Your nerve endings were alight with ticklish sensations as all seven of them began scratching away at your sensitive skin. Not a single pair of hands relented or slowed or even showed any sign of hesitation. Even the softest of lers had taken to make sure you were wrecked with rough tickles.

“Nohoho! I’m sohohorry!” You whined.

“Are you though?” Jungkook debated with you. He hit a very sensitive part on your hips, loving the reaction you were providing him. “Because by the smile on your face, I’d say you’re pretty proud of yourself!”

“No! Nohoho, I’m nohohot!”

Someone started leaving butterfly kisses across your neck. You squealed at the soft sensations.

“Ahhh, Jin-hyung, I think she likes that~” Yoongi drew the phrase out.

“How could she not? After all, she’s always talking about how soft my beautiful lips are!” He exclaimed before returning back to his torture against your neck.

You wanted to focus on shooing him from your neck with your chin, but you had to throw your head back in laughter when you felt Jimin and Taehyung really start to scratch away at the roles of your feet. God, Jimin even went straight for the kill with your toes on one foot while he directed Taehyung to the worst spots on your other.

“Nohoho fahahair! Plehehehease!”

“Princess, I think it’s time you stop with all this complaining and just laugh for us,” Hoseok commanded of you. “Anything that isn’t a cute little laugh? Well, you remember, don’t you?”

How could you forget? Last punishment you accidentally cried out “no!” and somehow there was a toothbrush vibrating in your belly button. The seven of them didn’t bring out tools often, but you were fearful of their unpredictability... or maybe you were also extremely in love with it. Either way, it gave you shivers just thinking about it.

You nodded and just continued laughing. That was all you could do.

Your back arched when Namjoon and Yoongi tasered your sides in perfect synchronization. They gave one another a proud grin while you bucked between them. Those assholes... those freaking amazing and ruthless assholes...

You couldn’t even process the onslaught of tickles from those two for too long before Jungkook was back with his terrible hip tickles. All the while Taehyung and Jimin were still tickling your feet with such vigor. Hoseok was tracing patterns into one underarm while Jin got with other, making sure to add his tickly neck kisses into the mix.

You were in pure bliss but experiencing pure torture all at the same time. Your laughter began to go silent. Tears were running down your face before you knew what was hitting you.

“Such pretty tears, princess~” Yoongi cooed. He leaned over and kissed your cheek, showing some affection in this time of ruthlessness.

“Noho- I- ple-hehe- You were struggling to get the words out. Thankfully there was some shred of compassion left in Namjoon.

“Here, let’s give her a break real quick,” Namjoon told the others.

They retracted their fingers from your shaking body after some time. You greedily gulped in as much air as your lungs would allow while some of the guys rubbed your skin comfortingly. Tae and Jimin cuddled up to your sides, rubbing your sides soothingly.

“Having fun?” Tae asked.

“Mehehean!” You simply told them.

“Sorry, princess,” Jimin gave you a joke-pout as he pushed your hair back. “But you deserve it after everything you did today.”

“Yeheheah, I’m sohorry about that...” You apologized genuinely when you came down from your tickle high.

Jin ruffled your hair. “It’s alright, baby. But you can’t do that kind of stuff while we’re working. Your adorable tickle spots are pretty distracting, you know. Makes us want to be mean to you, which you don’t want. Well, that’s what you say.”

“We’re about to get a lot meaner anyway,” Yoongi informed you as he got closer to your body. You could see the assortment of feathers he was twirling between his fingers as he approached. “Regardless of what you say.”

“W-Wait!” You stammered. “I-I-I thought i-it was done!”

“Oh, you thought that we were finished with you?” Namjoon asked with a quirked brow. “Baby girl, this is a punishment! Did you think you could get away with only a few minutes of tickling? And besides, I do beleive Hobi told you that you weren’t allowed to do anything other than laugh.”

“Sit tight,” Hoseok patted your stomach. “The night is still young, kitten~”

author’s note: i’m kind of tipsy but i finished this so i’m content!!

96 notes · View notes

allthemslogans · 4 years

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Commercial slogans or taglines help if you plan to open up a business that has to do with commerce.

Commerce, simply put, is an activity of buying and selling.

If you are buying something or selling it to the general public, you are considered to have taken part into an activity called commerce.

And a business that revolves around commerce is known as a commercial business.

Today, a lot of businesses are commercial in a way that they let you buy something from them in exchange for money or anything else.

And commercial businesses are how economies are run and improved.

This is why if you are looking to start a commercial business, not only do we want to wish you luck but would also like to help you.

Listed below are some of the commercial slogans or taglines that you can modify and then make use of so that you don’t have to work a lot to come up with these ideas.

Let’s get started.

Note: These slogans are generated by our free slogan generator that uses AI and Machine Learning. Even though we've trained our model to provide you with the best slogans, you may still find some that do not sound perfect.

List of Commercial Slogans or Taglines for Your Business:

Following are some of the best commercial slogans or taglines to choose from.

Buddy that’s all COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL I want it all

COMMERCIAL perfection at its finest

Oh my god it’s a COMMERCIAL

hmm COMMERCIAL

Mamma Mia That’s a Spicy COMMERCIAL!

Award-winning COMMERCIAL

That’s Handy Harry! Stick It In The COMMERCIAL

Problem? The Solution: COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIALrific

COMMERCIAL is the best forget the rest!

COMMERCIAL is a winner!

It’s the COMMERCIAL You Can See

Don’t Say Brown Say ‘COMMERCIAL’

You don’t want COMMERCIAL as your enemy!

Snap into a COMMERCIAL!

Way to go COMMERCIAL!

COMMERCIAL – The Freshmaker!

Nobody does it like COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is the best!

COMMERCIAL you’ll love it!

I Liked The COMMERCIAL So Much I Bought The Company!

Worldclass COMMERCIAL!

COMMERCIALized!!

Happiness is COMMERCIAL-Shaped

COMMERCIAL for you!

COMMERCIAL – now!

There’s only one true COMMERCIAL!

COMMERCIAL – play it!

COMMERCIAL – see the light!

COMMERCIAL – a class of its own

COMMERCIAL – a safe place in an unsafe world!

COMMERCIAL makes you sexy!

Start the day with COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – Yabba Dabba Duh!

COMMERCIAL – go for it!

Free COMMERCIAL with your purchase

COMMERCIAL – as good as it gets!

COMMERCIAL the best you can get!

COMMERCIAL – it’s like heaven!

COMMERCIAL – to feel free!

Simply COMMERCIAL!

COMMERCIAL-Lickin’ Good

COMMERCIAL Making people successful in a changing world

Buy COMMERCIAL now!

Just One COMMERCIAL – Give It To Me

Gee Your COMMERCIAL Smells Terrific

The Sweet You Can’t Eat Without COMMERCIAL

Good To The Last COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL: Music to the ears

Let Your Fingers Do the Walking Through the COMMERCIAL

World’s finest COMMERCIAL

Nothing Comes Between Me And My COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL satisfies the need

COMMERCIAL We build smiles

COMMERCIAL – go for it

The Lighter Way To Enjoy COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL? Yes please

A COMMERCIAL Is Forever

COMMERCIAL for everybody

Feel good with COMMERCIAL

Feel The Raw Naked COMMERCIAL Of The Road

Lucky COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is the best

We Build COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL Making people successful in a changing world

Fall Into The COMMERCIAL

Be Like Dad Keep COMMERCIAL

It’s nothing but COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL right as rain

COMMERCIAL is the best forget the rest

How Refreshing How COMMERCIAL

Leggo my COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL chews ’em up and spits ’em out

COMMERCIAL wins again

The art of COMMERCIAL

It’s COMMERCIAL Time

When The Going Gets Tough The Tough Get COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL perfection at it’s finest

Full Of Eastern COMMERCIAL

Who wouldn’t fight for COMMERCIAL?

COMMERCIAL since 1845

If there is a will there is a COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL tastic

COMMERCIAL – Yabba Dabba Duh

One goal one passion – COMMERCIAL

I Scream You Scream We All Scream for COMMERCIAL

The COMMERCIAL spirit

Me and my COMMERCIAL

Come to Life Come to COMMERCIAL

We Bring COMMERCIAL to Life

There’s a bit of COMMERCIAL in all of us

COMMERCIAL ‘s got it all

The Dirt says Hot The Label says COMMERCIAL

Where is your COMMERCIAL?

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I want more I want COMMERCIAL

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My COMMERCIAL your COMMERCIAL COMMERCIAL for all

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Sometimes You Feel Like a COMMERCIAL Sometimes You Don’t

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Ooh la la COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL will get you more girls

Race for the COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL something for everyone

From Our COMMERCIAL to Yours

Simply COMMERCIAL

Happiness is a Cigar Called COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL eriffic

The Power of COMMERCIAL

Pardon Me Do You Have Any Grey COMMERCIAL?

Look For The COMMERCIAL Label

Don’t get in the way of COMMERCIAL

Nothing is faster than COMMERCIAL

Want a suggestion? – COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL makes you sexy

Mama’s got the Magic of COMMERCIAL

Feel it – COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL in touch with tomorrow

Melts In Your COMMERCIAL Not In Your Hand

If Only Everything in Life was as Reliable as a COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – as good as it gets

Get the new COMMERCIAL

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My COMMERCIAL to Yours

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COMMERCIAL the real thing

For The COMMERCIAL You Don’t Yet Know

I Feel Like COMMERCIAL Tonight

Follow your COMMERCIAL

Everything We Do is Driven by COMMERCIAL

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COMMERCIAL to hell with the rest

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Funky COMMERCIAL

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Have a COMMERCIAL and Smile

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COMMERCIAL – go for the game

See you at COMMERCIAL

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Happiness is COMMERCIAL -Shaped

COMMERCIAL – spice up your life

I see COMMERCIAL in your future

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The Queen of COMMERCIAL

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To COMMERCIAL or not to COMMERCIAL

I want my COMMERCIAL

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The COMMERCIAL Bars Are On Me

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COMMERCIAL Unscripted

Thanks COMMERCIAL

It Does Exactly What It Says On The COMMERCIAL

Dude You’re Getting a COMMERCIAL

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The COMMERCIAL people

This Is Not Your Father’s COMMERCIAL

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Make COMMERCIAL Yours

Step into the light with COMMERCIAL

Make Room for the COMMERCIAL

The Best COMMERCIAL Under One Roof

Go far with COMMERCIAL

Mamma Mia That’s a Spicy COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL kicks ass

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This Is The Age Of The COMMERCIAL

Give That Man A COMMERCIAL

Make Someone Happy with a COMMERCIAL

Where COMMERCIAL is a Pleasure

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It’s Slightly Rippled with a Flat COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL gets the job done

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Get In My COMMERCIAL

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COMMERCIAL for your kids

I fall for COMMERCIAL

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Splash COMMERCIAL All Over

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COMMERCIAL for you

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COMMERCIAL – be prepared

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I can’t believe it’s COMMERCIAL

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COMMERCIAL you’ve got it

Once COMMERCIAL always COMMERCIAL

I am Stuck on COMMERCIAL ‘Cause COMMERCIAL ‘s Stuck on Me

A Day Without COMMERCIAL is Like a Day Without Sunshine

COMMERCIAL Is Our Middle Name

The Incredible Edible COMMERCIAL

Moving at the Speed of COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL created by nature

You don’t want COMMERCIAL as your enemy

COMMERCIAL eclipses the competition

COMMERCIAL takes good care of you

Designed for COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL your family will love you

They’re Yummy For Your COMMERCIAL

See my shiny new COMMERCIAL?

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COMMERCIAL for your life

COMMERCIAL – now

COMMERCIAL shines through

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COMMERCIAL as far as the eye can see

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COMMERCIAL only if you want the best

COMMERCIAL wonder

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Do You Have The COMMERCIAL Inside?

Bring Out The COMMERCIAL

The queen buys COMMERCIAL

Grab Life by the COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL keeps going and going and going

There’s only one true COMMERCIAL

You know when it’s COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL the best service around

I Wish They All Could Be COMMERCIAL Girls

Naughty little COMMERCIAL

Only COMMERCIAL Has The Answer

t’s the COMMERCIAL You Can See

My Doctor Says ‘COMMERCIAL ‘

COMMERCIAL is your safe place in an unsafe world

The Curiously Strong COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL the only way to go

COMMERCIAL always and forever

COMMERCIAL puts the rest to shame

Go where the winners go – COMMERCIAL

Firstclass COMMERCIAL

Every COMMERCIAL Helps

Praise COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL makes your day

Let’s talk about COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL brings out the best

A COMMERCIAL A Day Helps You Work Rest and Play

COMMERCIAL finishes first

Get COMMERCIAL forget the rest

Aaahh COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL Take Me Away

My COMMERCIAL

There’s only one thing in the world I want and that is COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL it’s guaranteed

COMMERCIAL – The Freshmaker

See the USA in Your COMMERCIAL

Your Flexible COMMERCIAL

Time for a Sharp COMMERCIAL

And All Because The Lady Loves COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL know-how

COMMERCIAL the clever way

COMMERCIAL is always the one

A Tough COMMERCIAL to Follow

I’d Like to Buy the World a COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL outshines the rest

COMMERCIAL do you need anything else?

Chocolate COMMERCIAL Since 1911

COMMERCIAL reaching for the stars

COMMERCIAL try it you’ll like it

What’s In Your COMMERCIAL?

The Home of COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL the only solution

COMMERCIAL is inspiration

Men Can’t Help Acting On COMMERCIAL

My way is COMMERCIAL

Call a friend call COMMERCIAL

Just Do COMMERCIAL

Just gotta have COMMERCIAL

Gotta Lotta COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is better than chocolate

I Learned It By Watching COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL like business is better with multiple partners

COMMERCIAL – a class of its own

COMMERCIAL ‘s like heaven

The Passionate Pursuit of COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL innovate your world

Break through with COMMERCIAL

You’re Never Alone with a COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – to feel free

name_entry data-title=Start the day with COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is going places

America’s Most Trusted COMMERCIAL

Easy COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is my sport

We Want To Be Smiths COMMERCIAL

Fast COMMERCIAL and Good for You

Did Somebody Say COMMERCIAL?

Savor the Flavour of COMMERCIAL

Go Crack a COMMERCIAL

Tense Nervous COMMERCIAL?

I’d Walk a Mile for a COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – Your personal entertainer

COMMERCIAL quality you can see

Kick ass with COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL stands above the rest

COMMERCIAL the highlife

Our COMMERCIAL is bigger

The Future’s Bright The Future’s COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL love it or leave it

COMMERCIAL empowers you

COMMERCIAL for all

COMMERCIAL the secret of women

I’d do anything for COMMERCIAL

Make the world a better place with COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL with the Less Fattening Centres

Have COMMERCIAL Your Way

I Want My COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL when only the best will do

Wait Till We Get Our COMMERCIAL On You

Semper COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – your game

It’s my COMMERCIAL

You Need A COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – play it

Gonna Be a While? Grab a COMMERCIAL

Have a Break Have a COMMERCIAL

Next stop COMMERCIAL

Tough on Dirt Gentle on COMMERCIAL

Just Like COMMERCIAL Used To Make

COMMERCIAL you’ll love it

COMMERCIAL the choice cut

COMMERCIAL – it’s like heaven

Endless possibilities with COMMERCIAL

The secret of COMMERCIAL

The COMMERCIAL man

Welcome To COMMERCIAL Country

COMMERCIAL building a better tomorrow

It’s your COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL will make you feel better

You’ve Always Got Time For COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – a safe place in an unsafe world

Go farther with COMMERCIAL

The magic of COMMERCIAL>

The more COMMERCIAL the better

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COMMERCIAL – first class

COMMERCIAL ized

COMMERCIAL a cut above the rest

Buy COMMERCIAL now

COMMERCIAL Is Good For You

I’ve Seen The Future and It’s COMMERCIAL -Shaped

Don’t Say Brown Say ‘COMMERCIAL ‘

Snap Crackle COMMERCIAL

Do You uh COMMERCIAL?

COMMERCIAL this is it

Your COMMERCIAL Right Away

I Liked The COMMERCIAL So Much I Bought The Company

Get COMMERCIAL before your friend does

Hey have you tried COMMERCIAL?

Keep That COMMERCIAL Complexion

COMMERCIAL the best you can get

A COMMERCIAL Works Wonders

COMMERCIAL – once you have it you love it

COMMERCIAL what else?

Where’s The COMMERCIAL?

My COMMERCIAL is mine

Wrapped up with COMMERCIAL

Do you know COMMERCIAL?

COMMERCIAL online

COMMERCIAL Makes Everything Better

The Too Good to Hurry COMMERCIAL

Nobody Better Lay a Finger on my COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL one for all

Plink Plink COMMERCIAL

The Good COMMERCIAL Kids Go For

That’s Handy Harry Stick It In The COMMERCIAL

My Goodness My COMMERCIAL

You Can’t Get Quicker Than a COMMERCIAL Fitter

COMMERCIAL – get ready

We’ll Leave The COMMERCIAL On For You

COMMERCIAL it’s as simple as that

COMMERCIAL for president

Be part of COMMERCIAL

Nothing Works Better Than a COMMERCIAL

There Ain’t No Party Like A COMMERCIAL Party

Made by COMMERCIAL

Only a Fool Breaks the COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL lasts longer

COMMERCIAL – simplified

COMMERCIAL – see the light

Stop. Go. COMMERCIAL.

Way to go COMMERCIAL

It’s not a dream COMMERCIAL is real

COMMERCIAL Saves Your Soul

COMMERCIAL Really Satisfies

COMMERCIAL your way

COMMERCIAL the original

It’s a Lot Less COMMERCIAL Than a Hover

COMMERCIAL to play it safe

Worldclass COMMERCIAL

Snap into a COMMERCIAL

With COMMERCIAL you’ll have no more worries

No need to worry with COMMERCIAL

If You Can’t Beat COMMERCIAL Join COMMERCIAL

Spreads Straight from the COMMERCIAL

Things Go Better with COMMERCIAL

I Like the COMMERCIAL in You

Is It Live Or Is It COMMERCIAL?

I’ll show you my COMMERCIAL if you show me yours

Come See the Softer Side of COMMERCIAL

We Bring The Good COMMERCIAL To Life

COMMERCIAL whatever you want

It’s your COMMERCIAL!

Things Happen After a COMMERCIAL

Oh my goodness, it’s a COMMERCIAL

Designed for COMMERCIAL Engineered to Last

Poppin’ Fresh COMMERCIAL

Don’t Live a Little Live a COMMERCIAL

Turn Loose The COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL – when you just feel like it

Step Into The COMMERCIAL

The COMMERCIAL For All Ages

It Must Be COMMERCIAL

With COMMERCIAL you’ll have no more worries!

COMMERCIAL the solution

It’s That COMMERCIAL Feeling

Wow! I Could Have Had a COMMERCIAL!

Central Heating for COMMERCIAL

Try COMMERCIAL You’ll Like It

The COMMERCIAL that Smiles Back

COMMERCIAL you can’t live without it

It’s the Bright One it’s the Right One that’s COMMERCIAL

Just one more COMMERCIAL will do

See the world with COMMERCIAL

Connect with COMMERCIAL

The COMMERCIAL community

COMMERCIAL makes me want to do it again

Bigger Better COMMERCIAL

You Deserve A COMMERCIAL Today

COMMERCIAL let the good times roll

The Best COMMERCIAL A Man Can Get

Because I’m Worth COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL after a long day

COMMERCIAL when you need results

A day with COMMERCIAL

I’d walk a mile for COMMERCIAL

Long live COMMERCIAL

There’s Only One COMMERCIAL

Oh my god, it’s a COMMERCIAL

Kick ass with COMMERCIAL!

Don’t play with fire play with COMMERCIAL

Swing your COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL will brighten your day

Ho Ho Ho Green COMMERCIAL

No COMMERCIAL no kiss

Try COMMERCIAL you’ll like it

Probably The Best COMMERCIAL In The World

Prolongs Active COMMERCIAL

There’s Always Room For COMMERCIAL

Don’t be an Amber COMMERCIAL

All you need is COMMERCIAL

The COMMERCIAL effect

Obey Your COMMERCIAL

It’s Different in a COMMERCIAL

Discover the world of COMMERCIAL

It’s the COMMERCIAL Fizz That Does The Bizz

For the love of COMMERCIAL

You Can’t Top a COMMERCIAL

Got a COMMERCIAL? You’re in Luck

A most excellent COMMERCIAL

The COMMERCIAL Bars Are On Me!

Truly COMMERCIAL

If You Like A Lot of Chocolate on Your COMMERCIAL Join Our Club

I love COMMERCIAL

Pleasing COMMERCIAL the World Over

COMMERCIAL the key to success

Now with 50% more COMMERCIAL!

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The COMMERCIAL That Likes To Say Yes

Nonstop COMMERCIAL

Everyone’s Favourite COMMERCIAL

Go to heaven with COMMERCIAL

Get The COMMERCIAL Out

Any Time Any Place COMMERCIAL

When you say COMMERCIAL you’ve said it all

COMMERCIAL – enjoy the difference

Loves the COMMERCIAL You Hate

The Most Interesting COMMERCIAL in the World

You Can On a COMMERCIAL Can Do!

COMMERCIAL will love you forever

Reach Out and Touch COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL have another serving

Ask the Man From the COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL it’s a kind of magic

Time To Make The COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL rules

There’s lots of fun in COMMERCIAL

New Thinking New COMMERCIAL

Enjoy COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL better than sex

Do it with COMMERCIAL

Don’t Get Mad Get COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL just what you needed

The Spirit of COMMERCIAL

My COMMERCIAL your COMMERCIAL COMMERCIAL for all!

One goal one passion – COMMERCIAL

151 Countries One COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL Born and Bred

Everyone wants a COMMERCIAL

Takes a COMMERCIAL but it Keeps on Tickin’

COMMERCIAL Comes to Those Who Wait

Nothing to worry about with COMMERCIAL

Long live COMMERCIAL

I want COMMERCIAL and I want it now

For a fresh change try COMMERCIAL

Today’s COMMERCIAL Since 1903

COMMERCIAL makes dreams come true

COMMERCIAL a radical new idea

When You’ve Got COMMERCIAL Flaunt It

COMMERCIAL fun for the whole family

Hand-Built by COMMERCIAL

They’re Waffly COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL will live on forever

Don’t forget your COMMERCIAL

Live in Your COMMERCIAL Play in Ours

COMMERCIAL stays on track

The Real Smell of COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL 100% guaranteed or your money back

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Come to COMMERCIAL and Let’s Get It Done

COMMERCIAL is your friend

The Loudest Noise Comes From The Electric COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is the sound of the future

COMMERCIAL will be for you what you want it to be

It’s Good To Talk COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL better than best

The Science Of COMMERCIAL

What Can COMMERCIAL Do For You?

COMMERCIAL will do anything for you

Change Your Whole COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is back

Snap! Crackle! COMMERCIAL!

Anyone can handle COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL new and improved

The view on COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL Keeps Going and Going

I Love What You Do For COMMERCIAL

The facts show COMMERCIAL is tops

3 2 1 COMMERCIAL

If You’ve Got the Time We’ve Got the COMMERCIAL

Saved by COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL Is Job 1

COMMERCIAL – empowering people

The Appliance of COMMERCIAL

Come One Come All To COMMERCIAL

Sharing the COMMERCIAL of your Life

The COMMERCIAL Sign Means Happy Motoring

Can you feel COMMERCIAL?

It’s time to think about COMMERCIAL

Don’t Be Vague Ask for COMMERCIAL

Beanz Meanz COMMERCIAL

I Saw COMMERCIAL and I Thought of You

Wear COMMERCIAL

Good COMMERCIAL Has Danish Written All Over It

Out Of The Strong Came Forth COMMERCIAL

Make the Most of COMMERCIAL

Get more from life with COMMERCIAL

Pride of the COMMERCIAL For Over a Hundred Years

COMMERCIAL is what the world was waiting for

The joy of COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL goes on and on

What Would You Do For A COMMERCIAL?

You can’t beat COMMERCIAL

Beware of Expensive COMMERCIAL

Solutions For a Small COMMERCIAL

Get Busy with the COMMERCIAL

Strong and Beautiful Just Like COMMERCIAL

Good Honest COMMERCIAL Since 1896

We All Adore a COMMERCIAL

All COMMERCIAL All The Time

COMMERCIAL the wise choice

There is no life without COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL gives that warm feeling

Maybe She’s Born With It Maybe It’s COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL just the best

COMMERCIAL – Xtending service

You Can Be Sure of COMMERCIAL

More COMMERCIAL Please

Say it with COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is rolling the others are stoned

We’re with the COMMERCIAL

You can’t stop COMMERCIAL

You Press the COMMERCIAL We Do the Rest

The magic of COMMERCIAL

Promise Her Anything But Give Her COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is all jacked up

All You Add Is COMMERCIAL

Good to know COMMERCIAL

Once You Pop You Can’t Stop COMMERCIAL

Everyone should believe in COMMERCIAL

Little Yellow Different COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL eats the competition

Ding-Dong! COMMERCIAL Calling!

It’s fast it’s furious it’s COMMERCIAL

The ideal COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIALeriffic!

COMMERCIAL is there day or night

Kids Will Do Anything For COMMERCIAL

Think COMMERCIAL

Make It A COMMERCIAL Night

COMMERCIAL i want it all

Every Kiss Begins With COMMERCIAL

free COMMERCIAL with your purchase

COMMERCIAL beat

The Right COMMERCIAL at the Right Time

COMMERCIAL any time of day

COMMERCIAL When there’s nothing else

COMMERCIAL good

For Mash Get COMMERCIAL

Free COMMERCIAL for all

Keep going well keep going COMMERCIAL

An Army of COMMERCIAL

Lipsmackin’ Thirstquenchin’ Acetastin’ Motivatin’ Goodbuzzin’ Cooltalkin’ Highwalkin’ Fastlivin’ Evergivin’ Coolfizzin’ COMMERCIAL

I am Stuck on COMMERCIAL ‘Cause COMMERCIAL’s Stuck on Me

It’s Just For Me And My COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL no one else is better

COMMERCIAL for a brighter shine

Tonight Let It Be COMMERCIAL

Strong Enough for a Man Made for a COMMERCIAL

I found me COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is my passion

Double the Pleasure Double the COMMERCIAL

The Future of COMMERCIAL

Let’s Face The Music and COMMERCIAL

Think Once Think Twice Think COMMERCIAL

Up up and away with COMMERCIAL

Let your COMMERCIAL flow

COMMERCIAL for the masses

COMMERCIAL is a female force

The Coolest COMMERCIAL on Ice

Run For The COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL extra dry

COMMERCIAL only

COMMERCIAL pointing in the right direction

Go On Get Your COMMERCIAL Out

COMMERCIAL See more Do more

Schhh You Know COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL one new status symbol

COMMERCIAL groove

Jesus loves COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL built to perfection

Plop Plop Fizz Fizz Oh What a COMMERCIAL it is!

Don’t Just Book It COMMERCIAL It

It’s How COMMERCIAL Is Done

The original COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL your way!

My Goodness My COMMERCIAL!

COMMERCIAL asks for nothing in return

COMMERCIAL the smart choice

Dude You’re Getting a COMMERCIAL!

Say It With COMMERCIAL

See the Face You Love Light Up With COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL for a better future

More Than Just a COMMERCIAL

Be alive with COMMERCIAL

Two COMMERCIAL are better than one

The Man From COMMERCIAL he says ‘Yes’

Better Living Through COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL when it has to get done

Top Breeders Recommend COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL won’t hurt that bad

My COMMERCIAL and me

Lightening the COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is crazy good

Don’t Forget The COMMERCIAL Mum

COMMERCIAL – first class!

COMMERCIAL It’s Everywhere You Wanna Be

I’m Lovin’ COMMERCIAL

Let The COMMERCIAL Take The Strain

The World’s COMMERCIAL Marketplace

Bridge That Gap with COMMERCIAL

Go where the winners go – COMMERCIAL!

Saved by COMMERCIAL!

I’m not Just the COMMERCIAL I’m a Member

COMMERCIAL knocks out the competition

The Ultimate COMMERCIAL Machine

Got COMMERCIAL?

COMMERCIAL you know you want it

With A Name Like COMMERCIAL It Has To Be Good

Go To Work On A COMMERCIAL

Get COMMERCIAL or Get Out

P-P-P-Pick Up A COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL as sure as the sun shines

My Anti-Drug is COMMERCIAL

You Too Can Have A COMMERCIAL Like Mine

Vorsprung Durch COMMERCIAL

The top pick COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL Just Feels Right

Can’t Do It In Real Life? Do It On COMMERCIAL

Let Your COMMERCIAL Do The Walking

COMMERCIAL you’ve got it!

Uh-oh Better Get COMMERCIAL

COMMERCIAL is so Bracing

Have a break have a COMMERCIAL

Australians Wouldn’t Give A COMMERCIAL For Anything Else

Sweet as the Moment When the COMMERCIAL Went ‘Pop’

Tell Them About The COMMERCIAL Mummy

COMMERCIAL – Just do it

the science of COMMERCIAL

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khadij-al-kubra · 6 years

Text

Persephone & Hades AU...

For your consideration, and bearing in mind that the original myth is not really all that toxic at all and is not a show of Stockholm syndrome...

The “””Kidnapping””” of Persephone:

Logan as Hades-

Bespectacled Ruler of the Underworld

Takes his job very seriously (wears a black and blue necktie with his long silky black robes)

Cold pale skin and intelligent grey eyes with slicked back black hair. Looks scarier and meaner than he actually is. (although he can have a bit of a temper if pushed and will have loud sharp outbursts of “FALSEHOOD!”)

Very logical and methodical in how he rules the underworld and keeps the souls passing through organized. Like he’s got the judgement thing down to a T! But despite his cold demeanor he’s actually very generous and kind at heart. He just recognizes the importance of his work and in remaining just yet impartial

Sucker for dogs, hence why he has a three headed one. He just wishes he had more time to play with Cerberus, but alas ruling the dead alone takes up a lot of ones time.

Has a sweet tooth and often indulges in jams made from the pomegranates that grow in his realm.

Is on decent enough relations with his brothers (Emile as Poseidon and Deceit as Zeus), although he STILL thinks that Deceit cheated in their straw draws, but let it go because he’s actually best suited as the more organized brother for ruling the dead.

Is secretly very lonely. Once in a blue moon he’ll sneak up to the surface for fresh air and sunlight. One day he spots a certain someone in a flower field who takes his breath away. (can you blame him, i mean that smile! )

Patton as Persephone-

Supreme flower child! (flowy sky blue clothes, grass green eyes, sun-kissed freckly skin and wheat colored curls, barefoot, flower crown)

Loves gardening, animals, and helping his father Demeter (Roman) with the changing seasons. Loves Roman to bits....He just wishes he wasn’t so overprotective. Like come ON dad, i’m a grown god, i can look after myself. I don’t run off on my own THAT much!

Is protective and loving towards most all forms of life and tries to see the good in each and every soul, both mortal and god/goddess #momfriendtothemax

Unless given reason to feel otherwise. Then...weeeell at the least he’ll give you a stern talking to but at worst...lets just say you DONT want to get on the bad side of someone who can grow massive and sharp thorn bushes and effect earthquakes when pushed too far. XO

Sometimes gets bored with the same old routine with Roman and wishes to get away and see something new from time to time. Maybe have some quiet time to make his own floral crafts and garden peacefully for fun and not work.

Often sneaks off when Roman is busy and goes wandering along dirt paths, sit under or climb a tree, or frolic in the flowers.

Roman as Demeter -

God of the Harvest, but like, EXTRA in all ways shape or form. (”we can top last years crop no problem, MORE WHEAT STALKS!” “No dad, we can’t, then there’ll be too much in this region and not enough for the next.” “LONGER SUMMER!!” “No! Bad idea dad! That’ll throw the seasons off”)

Often dresses in flowing gold threaded and sunset colored robes, but will change ensemble to match the seasons.

Enjoys watching the goings ons of the mortals, they’re just so entertaining! Especially is fond of traveling thespians and will bless the harvest of wherever they perform in.

Loves his son more than anything and has him help in godly duties because it keeps him close so he can keep an eye on Patton MUST KEEP PRECIOUS BAB SAFE!!!

Stubborn (but will never own up to it)

Virgil as Charon-

In charge of Ferrying souls across the River Styx

Doesn’t mind his job all that much but is #done with soooo many of these complaining, noisy and often rude or entitled souls. (like, NO dude, i don’t care who you were ruler of in the living world. Its two coins for passage like everyone else buddy!)

Really just wants a nap (often tries to hit up Remy a.k.a. Morpheus but he shows up late ALL the time)

Is actually very compassionate and gentle. He tries to ease the fears of souls who he sees are younger or were genuinely good in life or died in unfair ways.

Lives for the dark skull & bones aesthetic

Master of snark

Plays chess with Logan when either of them have some rare down time

Click the cut for full story

One day Roman and Patton are off doing their nature godly duties, and Roman is nagging his son about the proper way to harvest corn. (”Yes father, i know how to do it. you’ve only told me like a hundred times” “well i just want to make sure to remind you and that you don’t cut yourself on the sickle”)

Patton sneaks off one day to pick flowers since it’ll probably be the last bloom before autumn sets. Suddenly he sees a curious crack in the ground and ambles over to it to take a look. (”what sort of creature could’ve made this deep thing?”) He leans in too far however and pulls an Alice in Wonderland.

Turns out that crack was made by Logan. Apparently he’d become so deeply smitten by Patton that he went to his older brother Deceit/Zeus for advice. (Yes he was a dick and a little shit at times-although took his duties seriously when need be-and tricked many of his lovers into bed, but Emile didn’t have nearly as much love experience as their elder brother & Logan was desperate)

Deceit had actually been pleased when his too serious brother told him that he’d fallen for the spring god. His advice to Logan had been to simply kidnap Patton and either bed him then woo him or woo him and then bed him. Logan, of course, didn’t listen because that was the stupidest idea ever! (”what under earth was i thinking? This is the guy who turned himself into a cygnini in order to copulate with a woman behind his wife’s back.”) Besides, he was too painfully shy and socially awkward to try wooing. (He worked with the dead for crying out loud, not the best circumstances for practicing social skills)

He did however create a crack in the ground so he could sneak peeks at Patton from below the earth and admire him from afar. However, he’d been called back on an emergency and forgot to close one particular crack up before leaving again.

So sufficed to say, he was fairly shocked when he suddenly heard screaming above him one day. He looked up to find one Patton falling towards him and just caught him in his arms in time. (BLUSH CITY ON BOTH PARTS)

Patton thanks Logan but is admittedly miffed at him when he learns Logan was the one who’d made that crack in the ground. “What were you thinking leaving a big hole in the earth like that? Some poor oblivious mortal or animal could’ve fallen into it and gotten hurt!” “Apologies I-it was a foolish oversight on my part. i-I certainly hope you are uninjured?”

After a while Patton forgives him when he sees how truly sorry this (admittedly) scary and stern looking god is. (lest we forget he’s one of the big three) And Logan is honestly just trying not to show how flustered he is. i mean Patton is there in his realm! They both realize the crack is far too high up for Patton to get back out through right away. So Logan offers to have Patton stay in his palace until he can fetch his assistant Virgil/Charon to help Patton back up the next day. IN HIS OWN QUARTERS, OF COURSE! Logan says blushing, trying to be a gentleman. Patton agrees, promising upon Logan’s request to only follow one rule: “You must NOT eat anything”. Strange, but okay. Besides, it’ll be nice getting a break from his father. And it’s just for one night, right? (WRONG!)

Patton ends up having to wait longer than he realized because both Logan and Virgil are super busy with ferrying and judging souls. So he wanders around the Underworld. (of course he is marked with untouchable safety from almost everything as a guest of Logan)

One night however Patton finds himself stumbling upon a sparse garden. He’s surprised that anything is capable of growing down there in the realm of the dead, but even more shocked by the poor state of it. “Really, just look at the se rose bushes. They’re so brittle!” (it’s not Logan’s fault. He’s a busy boi. plus the god of the dead doesn’t exactly have a green thumb) Really the only thing flourishing down there is a single Pomegranate tree. The fruits on it look so red and shiny and juicy and...well...whats the worst that could happen if he eats just a few seeds?

Of course if you know the myth, it means now Patton cant leave. Because, well, greek god realm rules. Sufficed to say, Patton is pretty miffed that Logan hadn’t thought to tell him why he shouldn’t eat the darn fruit in the first place. Logan is greatly frustrated at Patton because a) he didn’t listen, and b) he actually has a point there and he does NOT like being wrong. Still, nothing to be done about it now.

Over time they cool off and apologize to each other. Patton’s still kind of mad though because now he can’t go home at all if he wanted too, but he recognizes that Logan wasn’t forcing him to stay on purpose. So he get’s over it and tries to make the best out of the situation. At least he can finally get away from Roman’s nagging for a while.

* Meanwhile in the living world, a frantic and angry Roman raises hell. “WHERE IS MY BOOOOYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!?!?” (Thebes did not have a good crop that year)

While in the Underworld Patton starts talking to some souls, listening to their stories and offering kind and comforting words. Which as it turns out makes them more at ease and willing to go for judgement as they pass on. Logan’s fondness for Patton grows as he witnesses these acts of compassion and kindness. He also comes to respect Patton when he sees just how fierce he can be in the face of those who’d been cruel or unjust in life. ”I’m sorry, you did what to how many people!? and NOW you’ve got the nerve to demand entrance into Elysium young man!? Logan, hold my flower.” “Fret not Patton. I have your bougainvillea.” (art link for this scene)

Meanwhile Patton cant help but notice that, although he’s stern and serious on the outside, Logan is actually a very gentle god deep down. (he picks up on this from the soft tone of Logan’s voice as he speaks to souls being judged who’d suffered in life, or the way he reassures the more anxious ones with facts and logic about the afterlife that set them at eases “it’s not all punishment and Tartarus you know. Statistically few souls on the grand scale are malign enough to enter there. The Asphodel Meadows are quite pleasant, I assure you.”)

Logan works so hard and tirelessly at his often depressing job, but never acts mean or harsh unless a soul is nasty or rude or was truly evil, and Patton gains an admiration of him for that. (besides, he is actually quite handsome and beautiful in a cold distant way, like the stars and moonlight on a midsummers night) Patton also sees what a softie Logan can be when he’s playing with Cerberus. (”Who’s my excellent tri-headed canine? Who is a good demon dog?”) Patton gushes and of course Cerberus and Patton LOVE each other. Watching Patton play with the big dog becomes Logan’s newest favorite thing. (”By the gods Virgil, it is too precious to process!”)

Sometimes Patton will keep Logan company when there’s a lull in souls. He’ll tell Logan about all the different places he’s seen and what mortals are like when still alive. Logan meanwhile will often go into rants about the fascinating bits of knowledge he’s accumulated over the years from souls who’ve lived full lives. Logan enjoys having someone who enjoys listening to him (not that Virgil isn’t a respectful listener, but Logan sometimes wonders if he only does is because he’s his boss) And Patton really likes being able to share his own opinions and ideas without condescendingly albeit gently being told, (“no, no, my silly sweet boy. This is the right way to do it. Now eat your cereal, you need the fiber sweet pea”) Having picked up some of the mortal’s sense of humor, Patton is very much a fan of word play and LOVES making puns. Logan is...less than amused by them. However, the first time he makes Patton laugh with a clever quip (about Virgil or one of the more disgruntled souls) he swore the whole Underworld actually lit up. He treasures every time he can make that precious god laugh and smile.

Heck, even Virgil warms up to Patton and actually becomes VERY protective of the spring god. Patton sees through to his anxious softie center and enjoys talking to Virgil who is a very good listener. Meanwhile Virgil finds Patton’s sunny disposition refreshing and his warm presence calming. Patton will often keep Virgil company, but can’t always bring himself to follow when he has to ride across the River Styx. The memories and voices coming off the water just make him too sad.

Virgil ends up playing wingman for Logan. He tells Logan how Patton’s been a bit down in the dumps and recommends Logan cheer him up with a present. “That is an excellent idea Virgil, but what? What could possibly be good enough for that sweet honeysuckle?” “Well you’ve spied on him enough times- and don’t try to deny it boss- what does he like?”

Sufficed to say, Patton LOVES his surprise underworld garden that Logan had worker rigorously on creating for him. He knows it couldn’t have been easy. Of course, being the god of the dead, Logan cannot maintain the garden and Patton is more than happy to have free creative reign over it. He giddily catches Logan in a big hug, and is pleased when a blushing Logan returns the heartfelt embrace, pressing a tender kiss to Patton’s forehead. Then he takes a blushing Patton’s hands in his.

”Patton, my honeysuckle, sunshine of my heart...I cannot contain it any longer. For so long you’ve been the object of my affection, but over the course of our time together down here, although the circumstances had been less than idea, my love for you has only deepened. Would you perhaps...although I am not worthy of you...would you consider marrying me, and ruling the Underworld by my side?” By now Patton is blushing like crazy and in tears because, although he’d been mad at Logan for getting him stuck down there at first, he realizes that he’s come to deeply love the dark god too. Logan worries that he’s crossed a line but then Patton beams and looks up at him with tears in his eyes. “Oh Lo-lo, my brilliant beautiful lobelia blossom, I-” BAM!

Cue a properly pissed off Roman crashing down to the Underworld. He’s also got Deceit/Zeus with him by the ear. “AHA! So THIS is where you’ve been keeping my precious boy!” “Deceit, you told him!?” “He got it out of me. Sorry, not Sorry. I may be the ruler of the gods, but Roman is quite -ow- convincing when angry.”

Roman rushes over to Patton and they embrace, because although it was nice having time to himself Patton did miss his beloved father. After Roman fusses over Patton-“Are you alright? Are you hurt? have you been eating properly?” “yes, yes, i’m fine father. I promise!”- Roman unleashes verbal hell on, well, the god of hell. He reprimands Logan for kidnapping his son, but Patton quickly comes to Logan’s defense saying that it wasn’t his fault and the whole thing had been an accident, not a kidnapping. When he hears the whole story Roman does calm down a bit, and is admittedly happy to see Patton so happily in love as well. (he may be a helicopter parent, but the god of the harvest is quite the romantic at heart and loves seeing Patton so happy. Even if he doesn’t think the doom and gloom Logan is good enough for his precious little sunflower)

But upon finding out about the pomegranate sees he practically begs Logan to release him so that Patton can come back to the land of the living with him. (besides, he does still need him to help with the seasons and crops) Logan apologizes, saying it’s impossible and there’s nothing he can do. He just doesn’t have that kind of power. Then all three hear Deceit clear his throat.

“Ahem. God of gods speaking, and if you’re all done blubbering, i may have a solution.” So he tells them that there may be a loophole he can work around. He’ll give Logan his blessing to marry Patton, who will also be allowed to go back upworld with Roman, but on the condition that Patton spends part of the year co-ruling the Underworld. He tells them that for the number of pomegranate seeds that Patton ate, he’ll be obligated to spend a month with Logan. “Well darling, how many seeds did you eat?” They all look at Patton expectantly. Technically Patton only at 3 seeds, but heckitty heck, he really wants more time with Logan than three months. And frankly, he enjoyed the idea of getting some time away from Roman too, bless him but he cannot face so much nagging again!

He lies and says six. Only six seeds. Because it’s not like anyone was there to see him or could know. Weeeell maybe the all seeing god of gods, but Deceit just winks and smirks at Patton, pressing a finger in secrecy to his lips behind Logan and Roman’s backs. So it’s agreed that Patton will spend the summer and spring half of the year in the Living world with Roman and the fall and winter half ruling the Underworld with Logan.

Before he goes back up with Roman though, Patton and Logan are wed. It’s Logan’s first and only time back to Olympus (he forgot how bright and noisy it was up there!) and all the greek gods and goddesses bear witness to their union. Even Virgil is granted a short vacation to be the witness of honor for his two favorite immortals. As it turns out the months apart end up being good for Roman as well as Patton. He gets a lot more work done now that he isn’t constantly fretting (actively anyways) over Patton or keeping him out of trouble or from wandering.

When they consummate their marriage for the first time, hoooboi! Logan’s so bashful but respectful (never having been with any other being before, mortal or immortal) and Patton thinks its adorably sweet. Having been topside, well, lets just say Patton snuck off every now and then when he could to “frolic” with a few naiads and mortals he found sweet or lovely. So he ends up being a thorough teacher to Logan. Turns out they’re quite compatible in more ways than one ;)

Patton ends up being a fantastic co-king of the underworld. Heck, he’s even incorporated the new job into his aesthetic (he always wears a crown of flowers and bird skulls in the Underworld) and, as it turns out, can be even scarier than Logan! Only when some foolish soul makes him mad or gets on his bad side. So none do. And with the souls being more behaved it takes the pressure off of Virgil and Logan a LOT. But for the most part Patton remains a sweet, kind and benevolent co-ruler to the dead souls, and balances out Logan’s stricter judgements quite well. Logan now has a bit more breather time to read and play with Cerberus since he’s not the only one in charge of the whole Underworld anymore. And he and Patton LOVE spending time together in Patton’s dark yet flourishing underworld garden!

Patton is always so happy to go back to the Living world with Roman when winter’s over. Of course he hates leaving Logan and misses him. Logan doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his sadness and tears, but understands. He does get a bit clingy their last nights though. (he becomes a kissy snuggly fiend) Virgil always promises Patton that he’ll take care of Logan while he’s gone. But Patton is a child of the earth and he does tend to miss the sunshine and his father. So he get’s back to work with a newfound exuberance, making the flowers grow, spending time with Roman and frolicking about the world. He always does his best to bring back a new scroll or star map for Logan, who treasures every gift and is slowly building a library for himself.

Sufficed to say, the decades pass by, Logan and Patton attentively fulfill their godly duties, and remain happily and devotedly in love with one another.

Tag List: @altruistic-skittles @thekeytohappiness-is-you @canadian-crofters@icecoldparadise @the-pastel-peach @justisaisfine @bluebloodstains@purpleshipper @patchworkofstars @axyzel @hissesssss @beautifully-terribly@pink-and-purple-flowers @jynxlovesluck @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6@hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @moonstone-fox @smokeyrutilequartz@phlying-squirrel @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton @notveryglittery@eequalsmcscared @safesandersides @lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @ab-artist @unikornavenger @queer-human-being @grey-lysander @asofterfan @fangirltothefullest @tinkslittlebelle @allsortsofgeekery @fuck-my-life-i-want-food @ironwoman359

#KDsWriting #Persophone&Hades AU #logicality #sanders sides #sanders sides au #Logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #persephone #Hades #sanders sides fandom #famders #greek gods au

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vagrantblvrd · 5 years

Note

(not!)Fic prompt: FAHC!Michael has seen *some important person from pre-criminal days* in LS and, even more unfortunately, they saw him and were glad to reconnect. How's the electrician business these days?

Wherein the important person is his BFF he met when they were kids.

This Kerry kid. (Because I love the early AH videos with him in them.)

He was smaller than Michael and quiet enough that bullies zeroed in on him every damn time. And Michael learned early on he had no fucking tolerance for those kind of assholes.

It wasn’t like Kerry couldn’t take care of himself just fine on his own. Could come up with these wonderful little schemes that had the bullies landing themselves in trouble, but that wouldn’t stop the assholes from picking on him in the moment. (Didn’t stop them from stealing his lunch money or shoving him down when they were little, getting meaner the older they got and realized Kerry was A Problem to them.)

And Michael, okay.

He’s got a great scowl, a better glare, and an amazing right hook.

Taught the bullies that sure, Kerry was trouble on his own. Would find a way to make them sorry sooner or later, but Michael? Bet your ass he’d make you sorry right fucking now if he caught them hassling Kerry.

It was always this joke between them, because Kerry wasn’t helpless, twisty little mind aside. Took some martial arts lessons once, got real interested in parkour after seeing some videos or whatever.

Michael knows he can take care of himself, so it turns into this joke that Michael’s his White Knight and all that, and it’s great. (Embarrassing at times when their other friends lay it on thick, but whatever.)

But then they get older and Michael starts getting involved in sketchy shit. Starts out with this job working for a friend of the family who happens to be an electrician. Does a lot of shit that – technically speaking – he shouldn’t because he doesn’t have the right certifications/whatevers for it, but his boss and coworkers teach him on the side.

Gets paid under the table because it’s a favor, right?

But then his boss asks him for another favor, running messages and making side deliveries and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on after a while.

Still, the money’s good and he keeps his mouth shut.

But Kerry’s getting curious/suspicious because Michael starts to shut him out. Doesn’t want Kerry getting involved because Kerry’s one of those people who’s Going Somewhere, okay? Michael can tell.

He’s got a talent for writing. Wants to work in film or television, maybe both one day.

Michael gets sucked deeper into things of questionable legality and pushes Kerry away at the same time until he gets caught up in something big. No chance to back out because he knows too much and there are ~subtle threats made against his family if he tries to go to the cops, so he goes along with it and it’s the most terrifying thing he’s ever been involved in.

(He doesn’t kill anyone – not then, but he sees the aftermath of what the assholes he’s tangled up with have done and knows he’s fucked his life up but good this time.

Works with that gang – he’s in a fucking gang - until some rival gang comes through and kills the lot of them. Just miss him because he was out running an errand or leaving a message for someone and came back to fine the place up in flame.

And then he fucking runs for it.

Makes up some bullshit reason for his family – and runs. Takes what money has has saved up, raids a few stashes/caches his gang had around town and gets the hell out.

Bounces around from gang to gang, crew to crew until he hits Los Santos and the Fakes eventually pick him up.

He’s more cynical, jaded now. Done a lot of shit he never thought he would – could – do and worse, and at first he thinks the Fakes are going to be more of the same. (They’ve got the goddamned Vagabond with them, of fucking course they’re going to be more of the same, if not worse.)

But then there’s Jack, and Jeremy. Gavin when he comes back from a job for Burnie, favor for an old friend. Lindsay and Trevor and Matt. The rest of B-Team and Alfredo just showing up one day. All these idiots that make him realize they’re different from everything he’s used to.

Stops expecting the worst from them – notices how careful they are about things when it comes to him. Not coddling him, but careful, like they give a fuck about him as anything other than an attack dog or weapon to point at their enemies.

Sees the way the damn Vagabond is so at ease with them, this guy he’s heard stories about for fucking ever who will bicker good-naturedly with everyone, let Gavin pull him into the stupidest arguments. Get excited about the dumbest shit with Jeremy. (Fucking calls them the Battle Buddies, what the fuck???)

And then!

He’s casing an art gallery for a future heist when he bumps into this guy.

Short, mouse-quiet, and so polite -

“Michael?”

His heart fucking stops in his chest for a moment because it’s fucking Kerry.

This little idiot who used to give Michael shit just because, sly little smile and glint in his eyes and that dumb laugh of his.

Best friend since they were little, and what are the fucking odds???

But Michael can’t make a scene, come off as suspicious when the crew’s been planning this heist for ages and if he blows it they’re not going to be happy.

So he plays the game, right.

Doesn’t have to pretend to be shocked to see Kerry because he is, but everything after that is an outright lie of not heavily edited.

Tells him he’s got his life together now (he does), has a great job (he does), and good friends and the whatnot out here. (He does, even if they’re all assholes.)

Kerry gets this wistful little smile because he’s honestly glad for Michael, but the whole Michael being an asshole to him and his family for their own fucking good way back when.

Tells Michael he’s in Los Santos to meet with studio executives and the whatnot about some scripts he’s been shopping around, isn’t that great, Michael???

It so totally is, but Michael is kind of panicking because Kerry’s also telling him he’s been looking for a place to live in Los Santos because he can’t keep flying back and forth the way he’s been.

Because wow, all of the lies Michael’s just given to Kerry will unravel the next time the Fakes make the news and Michael’s old mugshot hits the screen. (Surveillance videos and the whatnot as well. Whatever footage the have of him from the latest clusterfuck of a heist.)

Is trying to find a way out of the conversation when one of the others calls him to ask how it’s going and he uses it to escape.

Thinks that’s the end of things with Kerry, that he’s going to find out about Michael’s shitty lying ass on the news like everyone else, but then!

They keep running into one another and Kerry guilts Michael into meeting him for lunch one day and Michael can’t weasel his way out of no matter how he tries.

Dresses ~incognito with a hoodie and big stupid sunglasses he borrowed off Gavin. (Not the gold-framed monstrosities he’s so fond of but something almost as terrible and ungodly expensive.)

Pretty obvious he’s trying NOT to be noticed, and Kerry invited him to the kind of place various movie stars and the whatnot go to sometimes, paparazzi lurking outside like vultures hoping to catch a glimpse of some of them.

Michael gets looks, everyone trying to figure out if they know him from something – he looks familiar, don’t you think? - when he pull the hood down and takes the sunglasses off because the lighting inside is too dim to keep them on.

Kerry keeps shooting him these little looks but he doesn’t ask about it and Michael doesn’t offer any explanations.

They have a lovely lunch wherein Michael realizes Kerry knows more about what happened with Michael than he expected, but before he can ask Kerry what the fuck he thinks he’s doing his phone rings.

It’s some minor crew crisis they need his help with, and he makes his escape yet again.

REALLY doesn’t expect to see Kerry again after that, but a week or so later Gavin and Jeremy go out to grab this super specific car they need for the heist.

Problem is, the driver refuses to budge (and also name drops Michael). Bewildered and slightly alarmed by this turn of events they bring the guy back to the warehouse/wherever the crew is working out of at the time and -

“Hey, Michael!”

It’s Kerry.

It’s fucking Kerry.

Kerry who seems completely unfazed by being abducted (carjacked???) by the Fakes or seeing Michael (voluntarily) working with them.

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy says, all awkward like. “There was a situation???”

Everyone looks at Michael who is just OH SHIT and having flashbacks t the times when he worked with assholes who threatened his family and loved ones. Threatened Kerry, this idiot who’s one of the stupidest smart people he knows. (Michael knows a lot of people like that really. Just look at his crew for God’s sake.)

“So anyway,” Kerry says, after introducing himself to the others. “We were interrupted at lunch the other day? I didn’t get to tell you about this script I’ve been working on for years now.”

Since high school even, and the moment he starts talking everyone else is like OH SHIT because look, okay.

Kerry script is about these two dumb kids who were BFFs until one of them got into trouble – got in over their head.

And this idiot, okay, this idiot thought the only thing he could do to protect his family and loved ones was to push them away even as he got deeper and deeper into trouble.

Michael’s told the crew enough about his past to realize Kerry is nowhere in the neighborhood of being subtle about this, is in fact really fucking mad, so they clear the hell out to let Michael handle things.

Michael watches the cowards run (doesn’t blame them, but fucking hell they could have taken him too, okay) and then looks back at Kerry who’s run out of steam.

Got to the bit where the friend left behind starts to piece things together just as they graduate from college. Thanks to the passage of time and whatnot he’s got the right perspective to look back and realize something Wasn’t Right with his BFF. That he’s been looking for answers for a long fucking time, managed to alienate people who thought Michael just turned into an asshole, showed his true colors at last. Finally got a solid lead, and wouldn’t you know it, his career path after college leads him right where he needs to be. Gives him the perfect cover – everyone knows Los Santos is crime-ridden, that people like him are looking for that next big script studios will fight over. Love a good crime-suspense-whatever thriller, so him poking into things won’t seem too out of character or draw too much suspicion.

“I, uh. Haven’t figured out the ending?” Kerry says, because it all depends on Michael who is just -

“What.”

Kerry acts like he has no idea what Michael’s on about and rambles about changing names and locations, fudging some details but everyone who knows them even a little bit will know it’s about them.

“You fucking idiot,” Michael says, because Kerry -

He’s not horrified at what Michael’s become, or maybe he’s ignoring the ugly parts – maybe he he just doesn’t know.

Whichever it is, he shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have tried to look for Michael (because look at him and tries to get him to leave, scare him off but Kerry knows him too well. Trusts that Michael would never knowingly hurt him (when he’s not being a complete idiot) and that he sure as won’t kill him.

“Yeah, so,” Kerry says, and squints up at Michael. “What do you think about it?”

Michael thinks Kerry’s a goddamned idiot, and he tries to convince him to leave, forget he ever saw Michael -

“Uh, that’s not going to work?”

Because word got back to some studio heads that Kerry was seen with this guy who bears an uncanny resemblance to Mogar, and does Kerry know if he’d be interested in this move about the Fakes? (They’ve searched everywhere but no one comes close to the kind for the kind of presence they want, and people say that guy had it, you know? They’re willing to offer Kerry a job working on the script or whatever if he can.)

“What.”

Kerry just laughs because yeah, no, he shut that down real fast, but!

He did get an offer to work on a script for a made for TV movie about the Fakes (WHAT) and did Michael know there are other projects about them in the works? Amazing, really.

Michael has no idea what’s going on anymore, and that’s when the others come back and Kerry tells them all about the various film and tv projects about them and they’re all weirdly interested.

Fucking Ryan perks up because hey, theater background and does Kerry know when the casting calls for these projects go out???

It devolves into the weirdest fucking day of Michael’s life – which, you know, is saying a lot since he got suckered into joining the Fakes – and Kerry totally laughing at him.

(Michael doesn’t miss the way the tension Kerry’s been holding the whole damn time starts to ease up as he gets to know the others, realizes there’s a reason Michael’s been with them as long as he has. One that doesn’t have a damn thing about being scared of them or for his family and loved ones being used against him by them.)

Eventually he manages to convince Kerry to go back to his hotel under the promise of meeting with him again. (As long as Kerry keeps his trap shut about the heist and so forth, which he does.)

When the heist is over Michael goes to meet with Kerry, has lunch at some posh little cafe and this time he notices the attention they get.

Since the initial reunion months back Kerry’s gotten something of a name around town. Has a show in the works and studios are fighting over that script of his – this shit-eating smirk on his face when he tells Michael about it. (Also tells him if he wants to know how it ends he might be able to get him into an early screening before it comes out??? >:DDDDDDDD)

Michael is so Annoyed at Kerry, but the little idiot’s successful the way he knew he would be and try as Michael does, he can’t stop him from popping up around the penthouse or wherever else the crew is hanging out.

Proves to Michael he knows damn well “what Michael’s become” and doesn’t give a damn about any of it because he’s still Michael, isn’t he.

Is so fucking sorry he wasn’t there to help when Michael needed him the way Michael was always there for him before, but he wants to make up for it now if Michael will let him.

Michael’s like NO, but Kerry’s insistent and hard to say no to and eventually he just gives up trying to keep him out of shit because Kerry’s just not having it this time around.

Gets to know the others and may or may not pull strings to get Ryan a role on his show – recurring – or an audition for one of the Fake AH crew projects.

Ironically, the casting director and whoever else don’t think he has that je ne sais quoi the Vagabond has? But he’s perfect for the role of Beardo or the Golden Boy depending on the projects. Either way he’ll have to cut his hair for the part(s) if he signs on.

Everyone loses it over that, and the whole Team Same Voice thing gets way out of control for a while, because idiots.

Kerry is for how realistic/dark and gritty his scripts and the whatnot are and never ever lets on that’s because they’re all based on stories the crew tells him.

And then!

When the main idiots decide to retire, let B-Team take up the mantle from them, Kerry ends up working on this documentary project about the Fakes. Funded by the Fakes themselves through a shell company or whatever and all the segments of interviews where the interviewees fae is blurred out and voice is modulated to hide their identity?

The actual Fakes, from the main six on down to B-Team, and it’s like those moments in reality shows where the cast tears into one another like they think no one’s going to find out what they said.

It’s glorious and chaotic and gets mixed reviews because people think Kerry made everything up – that it’s an experiment, and is just a bunch of paid actors going off-script or working with a terrible one?Kerry and the Fakes are freaking dying over all of it because it’s basically a confession to every fucking crime they ever pulled in Los Santos and half the world thinks it’s a joke.

And then, idk, shenanigans?

Someone realizing years and years after the fact that that one mystery actor who was seen with Kerry was actually the real Mogar. That Kerry had close ties with the Fakes for years and the “actors” in that documentary of his was actually the whole fucking crew pulling one last joke on the world.

Meanwhile, everyone’s living up on some tropical island they bought years ago and safe from the cops of FIB or whoever.

~ The End ~

#Aliciaforferris #replies #ragehappy #fahc au #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #aliciaforferris #Prompt Fills

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v3-killing-harmony-imagines · 6 years

Text

While I can relate to this in a way, it’s not exactly like this, anyways I hope everything is okay anon!

-Mod Shuichi

potential trigger warning

Shuichi Saihara

He had a hunch that something was up

Wearing long sleeves almost all the time, having a habit of crossing your arms....

It was just a thought that floated in the back of his mind.

He noticed your sleeve falling down as you went to pick up something and saw the gleaming contrast of stark white lines against darker, fleshier skin.

He...looked away once he saw you looking, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands and his gaze downcast.

“You can ask.” You said.

“Huh?”

“About my arms, I’m sure it’s been killing you.”

He frowned. “Yeah, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

“If you are I’ll let you know, okay?”

He sighed, but nodded, leading you to sit down.

It’ll be a long conversation, with Shuichi trying his best to paraphrase some...touchy questions.

Ex: what made you do this, are you still doing it- and most importantly- how can he help.

Please be patient with him, he has your best interest in mind.

Amami Rantarou:

When it comes to Rantarou’s problems he’s always very secretive and unwilling to speak about whats going on. Almost like Ouma.

But when it comes to his s/o’s issues, he’s got that covered.

But when he realized you had self-harm scars he....didn’t know how to approach this.

He could always just bite the bullet and ask up front but...he feels like that

would end badly for the both of you.

He decides to hint at it occasionally, and every time you questioned him about it he immediately let off of the pressure.

This back and forth cycle continued on for a couple of weeks, before you finally did’t let any more of it slide.

“Just say it to my face, Amami, what do you want to know?”

“Why you’d decide to scar yourself.”

You falter for a split second, and Amami is already apologizing when you shush him.

“Its fine, you deserve to know.”

So you tell him why, or when and how it all started, where you’re at right now and what’s on your mind about the future.

“I really was concerned about you, and I wasn’t sure of how to bring it up, sorry.” he places his hand on yours, comfort evident.

He makes an oath to help your out anytime you need it, so you won’t have to suffer anymore.

Kaito Momota:

VERY VERY UNSUBTLE.

At first he asks, “Hey s/o! What are those scars you have on your arms from? They like from a fight or something.”

Your face whitens, “Uh...something like that?”

“Well when did it happen?” Kaito over here has no idea that these were caused by

“It...Kaito I really...” you sighed. “It’s not like what you think.”

“What is it then....?”

You explain it to him, and as you keep talking you can see the confused yet excited look slide off of his face like a greasy egg in a pan.

And he just, psychically can;t say anything, he’s actually breaking out in a sweat.

“Doesn’t that...hurt..?”

“In more ways than one.”

“Then...why?”

He starts blaming himself, asking if he wasn’t good enough, if he couldn’t make you happy.

He’s not happy about it, he has to leave the room because his emotions are getting the best of him.

Things are....awlkward, needless to say, for a while.

He does want to help it just...he feels weird about it, the idea of you hurting yourself...it sends a shiver down his spine.

He’s a bit selfish during this, and he knows and he hates it, because you should be the one being afraid if anything, not him.

But it’s new to him, and he’s terrified of this new way he has to think about you (because it is, he;s always thought of you as happy and cheerful)

It’s a change of his perspective, and it’s rocky at first but you two will work through it together.

Kiibo:

He’s confused when he first sees them, and asks if you’ve been in contact with any gerbils or cats lately.

A really, really feral gerbil or cat.

Because what else could cause so many scars and marks?

Due to his misconception you just...let him think what he wants for a while, until you’re comfortable with telling him

And so for the longest time Kiibo goes around telling everyone that you’re being attacked by wild animals daily.

Unfortunately, Ouma eventually finds out about this, growing quiet when you enter a room, vague hinting at it sometimes.

You’ll be having a conversation with him just a normal, before his demeanor changes and he says. “How long are you going to keep lying to Kiibo?”

He then reverts back to his bubbly self, pretending like nothing happened.

From Ouma’s “encouragement” and your guilt from not telling Kiibo, you decide to tell him once and for all.

And at first he’s confused, until you bring up you’ve done it to yourself.

“Oh, self-harm and hatred, usually caused by anxiety or depression.”

He takes it surprisingly well, reassuring (or boasting on his part) that he was always searching for causes from external parties, not internal.

He isn’t very...delicate, when it comes to talking about emotional subjects like depression, etc, but he understands it, and knows the steps to take in order to help you.

Just...call him out when you feel uncomfortable, and tell him what he needs to do, he’ll adapt very quickly, and if anything, you’ll be closer by the end of it.

Ouma Kokichi:

He always had a hunch that something was up, but for the life of him he could never figure out what.

He’d try and pry the information out of you, but when you don’t even know what you’re asking someone to confess it makes things difficult.

So he sat, and schemed for a while, helplessly waiting for a clue to pass by.

When he does get this clue, it’d from another person, Kiibo, Maki, Kaede- someone who’s close to you.

And he’s shocked, and feels betrayed.

Not because you didn’t tell him, but because you told someone else before him.

He know its petty for him to think like that but he’s too busy being jealous to think of anything else.

His whole meaner around you will change, hawk-eye- staring at you as you walk into the room, giving hints that you should probably just tell the truth to him, basically everything he can do physically without actually having to straight up ask you.

This method takes too long, so finally he just decides to ask you “Do you not trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

He’s a big walking hypocrite, god knows that he’s not one for telling the truth to anyone.

He’s fed up with the situation , and mostly himself that he just gets up, makes an excuse and leaves.

The next time you talk to him it’s to talk things out and explain why you told others before him.

He’s angry, but it’s not anger at you, at himself for not being able to protect you, to make you think you couldn’t tell him.

He’s crying, actually fucking crying because he thinks of the pain you’ve gone through just because he was stupid enough not to put two and two together.

You reassure him it’s not his fault, that you didn’t want him seeing you so broken, he’ll still blame himself. “I love you, I don’t want you to ever, ever fucking forget that.” He clenches his teeth. “Okay?” his voice quavers, and the night is spent close together, tears being shed and bodies shaking.

Korekiyo Shinguji:

He’s a calmer, quieter reactor.

He never wanted to pry into it, as he knows that there are things people just want to keep to himself.

When you do tell him he thanks you for trusting him enough to share him with that information

He gently asks what was the cause behind all of this, and suggests other methods to vent your feelings.

Like painting or drawing on yourself, slapping yourself with rubber bands, he even discuses the idea of going to a therapist.

And if you want other methods of pain, there’s pleanty.

(Aka, more sexual, and delivered to one by another person, not drawing blood or a lot of it at least)

Overall he’s very supportive, willing to do about anything if it means helping you.

he adapts very quickly, and nothing has changed between the two of you.

Gonta Gokuhara:

Just like with most things, he’s clueless and can’t wrap his head around it.

He’s just always assumed those marks were from an animal or thorn, some outdoor elements.

The first time he actually considers that it might be something else, he assumes someone has hurt you, and freaks out.

When you get him to calm down, and reassure him that no one has hurt him, he’s relieved, but still a little puzzled.

When or if you do tell them that the marks are self-inflicted he honestly doesn’t understand why someone would want to hurt themselves.

You have to teach him that there’s people who...are in a lot of pain and do things because of it.

By the end of it he doesn’t understand the psychological element behind it, but understands that you’re in pain, which makes you do it.

So, to help out , he asks you what he can do to help you not be in pain.

They range from mundane things, making sure the bed is comfy, that your shoes are the right size to more complex tasks, talking about your feelings and giving gentle head-pats, telling you he loves you.

Ryoma Hoshi:

He tapped your arms and thighs. “You too?”

You looked confused, he clarified, biting his candy cigar.

“You have so much pain in your life that you need to cut it out of yourself to numb you, fight fire with fire as they say.”

You gulp, he releases your arm. “It’s alright.”

He pulls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit. “I know that you’ve been through.”

Tears well up in your eyes, biting the bottom of your lip, quivering.

He opens his arms, and you dive into the, letting all your dark thoughts and releasing it.

He coos into your ear, doing his best to hush your cries.

He stays with your for as long as you need after that.

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