#it's the most simple thing in my eyes. but people keep screwing it up somehow

[wrenhyperfixates]

Synopsis/tw: Dottore taking care of you because that’s what I need right now :’) not proofread. reader’s a bit depressed/has been crying a lot. gn!reader. non-sexual nudity. it’s sfw but below a cut bc it’s a bit long I’m slowly turning into a dottore fanfic blog ig

People say that to feel your heart break, you have to have a heart. Well, Dottore was pretty sure he didn’t have one, yet he felt a distinct ache in his chest when he saw your eyes, puffy and red. And those small gasps and winces as you slow and hide your sobs.

Dottore closed the door slowly behind him so as not to disturb you where you sat on the couch. Heaving a hefty sigh, he removed his mask and sat next to you. You’d screwed your eyes shut to help stop the flow of tears. When it became clear you weren’t going to be opening them any time soon, he sighed again.

“Love, look at me.”

Though his words were a short, simple command, the gentleness hidden in the tone of his voice—gentleness you knew him well enough to hear—turned the phrase into a plea.

For anyone else, his face would be set into a grim look of annoyance. New as he was to the soft feelings he held for you, he tried to keep such an expression, but his eyebrows still drew into a tight line of concern.

Eyes not quite yet dry, you do as he asks, gaze darting around a bit, but ultimately looking at the doctor.

“You’ve some nerve, trying to hide something from me,” he spoke again. Dottore cupped your cheek and you immediately leaned into the warmth of his gloved palm. “Just give me a name, and I’ll have whoever hurt you chained to a lab table by sunrise.”

A gasp flies past your lips, followed by a small chuckle. “Thanks, ‘ttore. Though no one did this, I’m just…”

He allows you the time to pick your words, waiting patiently for you to continue, and stroking your cheek with his thumb in the meanwhile.

“…overwhelmed,” you finish after a few moments. “Overwhelmed with- Archons, overwhelmed just by life itself.”

A sob breaks your voice as you finish your sentence, more salty trails staining your cheeks as tears once again spill from your eyes. Before you can blink them away, Dottore has pressed you to his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

“Now, now,” he tuts. “You underestimate me.”

“What? You gonna tie my feelings up in your lab?” you tease, though your tone lacks some of the mirth you tried to force into it. Still, it earns a laugh from Dottore.

“Hm, perhaps not. But it is nothing I can’t handle. I am used to working with machinery on the brink of disrepair and volatile chemicals… Perhaps it is not the most apt analogy for humans and their feelings, but I do know how to handle things with care.”

Humming in thought, you snuggle closer to his chest to muffle the small sobs that you haven’t yet gotten under control. In the silence you realized the second harbinger, a force of nature, had a very steady heartbeat and his stoic presence was somehow calming.

“Ok.”

“Good. Now love, I’ll need you to do as I say, but it is of the utmost importance that you make it known if I do anything that causes you to be uncomfortable.”

After waiting for you to nod in affirmation, he bids you to stand and follow him. Though, you don’t hesitate, you weren’t expecting your destination to be the bathroom.

Dottore ran the water so the tub would fill as he rummaged through some draws, pulling out a variety of jars and bottles. Some seemed to be what he was looking for and others he cast aside. From the looks of it, maybe you couldn’t be sure you weren’t about to become one of his experiments.

“Love,” he calls over his shoulder, “I’ll need you to strip, if you’re feeling up to it. There’s a robe on the hook by the door if you want it.”

Heart-skipping a beat you do as you say, fastening the plush robe tightly around you. It smells strongly of your lover, and you wonder if the musk is from his soap or if it’s his natural scent.

Dottore has the bath ready quickly, water warm and dotted with bubbles and rose petals. With your permission, he removes the robe from your body and helps you into the water. The rolled up sleeves of his button down get wet as he helps you get settled, but if he notices he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Everything ok so far.”

“Yes, ‘torre.” Your eyes shine with gratitude as you look at him. They still shine with tears too, but for the moment, your mind is elsewhere. “Thank you. Sorry to make you take time out of your day for this.”

Laughing he shakes his head. “My schedule always includes time for you. Besides, I take pride in what is mine. And love, lest you forget, you are mine.”

To anyone else, those words from the mad doctor would be enough to set their heart beating at a rapid pace and a shoot a tingle straight down their spine. To you, those words were coated in honey, whispered against your skin, and punctuated with a kiss to each of your fingertips.

Relishing in his touch, you nod and do your best to relax in the water. Dottore continues to whisper sweet reassurances into the steamy air of the bathroom, observing each microscopic change to your expression so he could adjust his words to be exactly what you need. His love was genuine, even if the way he expressed it was carefully calculated.

When he feels the water begin to dip in temperature, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles to capture your attention, then looks you right in the eye as he speaks.

“I intend to wash you, if you are alright with that.”

Turning over the prospect over in your head, you reach a conclusion faster than you expected, but the answer rolls off your tongue naturally. “Yes.”

He does not hesitate before setting to work. His hands, devoid of gloves unlike earlier, make direct contact with your skin. They’re calloused, and for saying he knew how to handle things with care, they treated you a bit rougher than expected. But, perhaps it was intentional as there was a sort of calming effect to strong, decisive actions. Something that kept you grounded when you felt you were drifting away.

Dottore took his time lathering the soap on your body before rinsing it away, following up by doing the same to your hair, massaging your scalp and skin as best as he could as went. Despite not being particularly practiced with giving massages, in tandem with the sweet nothings he began to softly whisper again, it did more than enough to calm your tensed body.

Once done with the washing and with your approval once again, Dottore begins to pat you dry. Instead of trekking to your room to fetch your own things, he pulls out his own clothes for you to wear, leaving you to change while he acquires some pastries you had stored in the fridge.

“Feeling better, love?”

Dipping the bed as he takes a seat next to you, he rests the tray on his lap. You reclaim your place snuggled into his side as you grab a pastry and pop it into your mouth. Fiddling with the buttons of his shirt which you now wear, you hum your affirmation.

The corners of his mouth turn down. “Promise?”

You eat a couple more pastries before answering. “Yes. I am feeling better. Having you here, the way you’ve taken care of me helped. Honest!… I’m just maybe not all better yet.”

“Mmm, well, that can’t be helped. Healing is a slow process for any wound, and I would not expect the ebb and flow of you anxiety to suddenly bow to my whim.”

“Yeah. Any chance you can keep helping though?”

He polishes off a couple pastries of his own before offering you the last one and setting the tray on the bedside table. Pulling you into his lap, he tugs the blanket so it rests securely round you both.

“Well, of course. I’m not one to abandon an experiment after a single trial.”

Resting your head back so it laid in the crook of his neck, you continue to let the his presence wrap around you and melt away the buildup of your stress. You press a kiss to his collarbone, and he responds with a peck on the top of your head.

“What about after two trials? Or three? Will you be tired of me then?”

“Honestly, my love, you ought to prepare yourself because the trials shall be endless. Or, let me be more blunt: I shall never tire of you. After all, you are mine. But more than that, I am yours.”

#dottore x reader #dottore genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #dottore x you #dottore #genshin impact x you #skrunkly doctor man 🩵

[tiredstressedemotionalmess]

i remember you saying at one point that ghoul would have some tattoos, mostly of sentimental value. i would absolutely LOVE to hear more about that if youd like to share :)

okay so most of his tattoos are things that relate to his past crewmates/people he's cared about who've been ghosted:

- a green eye on his forearm for the first joy he can remember being with, who looked after him when he was a baby/toddler. they died when he was still super young, around four or five, and so the oy thung he can really remember about them is that they had green eyes like him

- below that hes got this sort of scattering of little screws and bolts and things like that which wraps around his arm to represent the next crew that took him in; a bunch of gearheads who sort of sparked his passion for machines and building shit

- he definitely has one for the man that took him in after that (the guy referenced at the begining of ttid who drops him off with the crew that be meets jet in) but idk what it would be exactly. i need to think abt this one more 😅

- (a more ttid specific one here, and yes mentioning his and poison's tats is a revision i need to make leave me alone its not my fault i kept forgetting to mention them earlier 😭) he has a little chain of small wildflowers around his wrist on the opposite arm from the first two. there were always a BUNCH of flowers that grew around the old gas station they lived in, so flowers sort of always remind him of that time in his life

- also in reference to that time! he has a star on his chest, just a simple black outline right over where his heart is. hmmm i wonder if thats supposed to be a sort of memorial for anyone in particular 🤔 yes i promise i will bring this up in ttid

- minor ttid spoiler for this next one ig? idk its not anything super relevant but just in case you somehow care abt waiting to find out why ghoul knows how to read.

anyways, after being separated from the crew with jet, he gets found by this old bookbuzzer dude who lives in this doomsday bunker library type thing underground! he always talked about the value of reading and stories as vessels for the truth, so he makes it his mission to teach kid ghoul how to read bc its "his best weapon against bli, one they cant take from you", so he gets this open book on his shoulder. the pages are sort of fanning out, and theres a little illustration of a knife on one of them

- when he was older, like early teen years, he was running with with ine crew for a WHILE, almost as long as he had been with jet and that group. he basically thinks that hes found the people he's found his family, his permanent crew for the foreseeable future, so he gets a cluster of little bees and other bugs bc the group called themself "the hive" or "the swarm" or something dumb like that.

anyways! long story short, these fuckers screw him over, his face gets cut up yadda yadda yadda you know the drill, and so he covers the bugs with a raven to represent his bad luck that seems to follow him whenever he joins a crew,cand serving as a reminder for why he goes it alone for so long as its by far his biggest tattoo

- a few years after he officially joings party and kobra and jet, he gets each of their symbols tattooed in a line undernath the raven, and maybe theres some sentimental little quote or word undernath them but idk what id be lol ill get back to you in that

- also! he and poison have matching tattoos of bombs that say "shiny" across them! i talk more abt this in my list of party poison's tatoos that i still need to post so look out for that ig

- the final tattoo he gets is done a few days before they go into the city to save the girl. its of her boombox with the words "keep running" above/ around it and he gets it as sort of a prayer for her own safety, and so he can die with a reminder of her bc he jusg knows hes not making it out of that city alive.

i might think up some more later down the line for little moments or important things in ghoul's life, but these are all the biggest and most important ones to him!!! thanks for asking i fucking loved the excuse to talk abt all this :D

#asks #danger days headcanons #danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #my headcanons #fun ghoul #fun ghoul headcanons #ttid

[richardsphere]

Leverage Redemption Log: The Pyramid Job

Well either we're going to Egypt (not in the budget) the louvre (not in the budget) or a Bass Pro Shop (in the budget, unlikely). That or its an MLM. --- Woman is telling her MLM bosses about how she needs to leave the MLM. They tell her success is definitly on the way.

Huh an MLM that has a return policy. (i mean its definitely a shit policy that scams them but thats better then most MLM's)

And they reverse psychology the woman back into the pyramidcult. --- Scene opens with a person in an old london flat-cap getting thrown into a container of hay by Elliot. (this guy is so london that i'd be suprised if this doesnt somehow tie into the "Sophie Backstory" that is being slowly woven into the season-arc.)

Pick London Tweeds pocket full of diamonds, fund a school, pay off debts. Denouement for an off-screen adventure.

Huh, im right. Its just not the same guy but this "Billie the Gent" fellow is also wearing a flatcap (and this guy is even wearing something tweed-like) So i assume this scene is taking place in a London warehouse (the beautiful thing about warehouses, they're pretty standard regardless of geographical location. No need for expensive on-location shots)

Billy is worried about his daughter (she was a baby when Sophie sent him and Arthur to prison)

Elliot dated someone who bought the product.

Billie is doing a bit of a guilt trip, and Elliot doesnt trust him. So expect a third-act betrayal of some sort. --- Con starts in-medias-res. Breanna is an accountant. She does not like how much firewalls they've put around comic sans slideshows of babies.

The point of the Con (at least for now): Get a virus on the server. Automated "return true" to all attempts at a refund.

I dont think that the people working at the datacenters of an MLM are usually in the "level"-based structure. So we need a Diamond key... well if they're all on the funky little wristwatch-drives like Saphire here has? Thats a simple Parker Pickpocket. (seems that she's thinking along the same lines).

Also daily, streams from the boss bitch? Thats gonna make a return, and knowing the standard Leverage MO: That is gonna be her Confession Cam

Sophies scheme for Richard: Divide and conquer by convincing him he needs some more Toxic Masculinity in his life. But like, only a smidgen. So its a Harry job, not an Elliot.

--- Sophie arrives at the cult-fundraiser thing. (Parker is in situ as waitstaff) Thank god this show is willing to drop the C word. (Cult. Though though the other one might be apropriate as well) Ok so apparently the company just steals downlines whenever they want?

Richard exists stage to let Debra shine. Do some pseudo-inspirational brainwashing. We have found Billies daughter Miranda. Parker offers up the Venezuela Protocol. --- Operation Bromcom is initiated. I do not like the Tom Selleck stache on Harry.

Bromcom makes it into Phase 2 no problem. --- Debra reads through Sophies accent and really puts her on the spot, also she puts the spots on her. Cut for comercial as if Sophie doesnt have an earpiece. --- Ok we're not even bothering with the earpiece, Sophie is just gonna StageCultBS her way out of this.

But yeah Debra is onto Sophie. Which isnt really a problem? (Sophie is only here to keep an eye on Miranda and create an opening for Parker to do her thing. Being in the spotlight is kind of the point) --- Back with Breanna, Saphire very much is starting to see the dawning light Re:Pyramids. It's far from noon yet but its definitly twilight.

Ronald has a real "they've got skulls on them" moment when he sees the Teletubbies sunbaby on a giant pyramid in the logo. --- Sophie has Parker feign a pregnancy. (she named the kid after Hardison)

And we've just (temporarily) screwed over Miranda. (look there are no stakes here)

Seriously how many glass pyramids are on this table Miranda is standing at?

"I dont have a tissue but you can use my sleeve". 10/10. Well looks like Parker has succesfully convinced Miranda to leave. --- Meanwhile Billy is talking on the phone with someone in a foreign language. Meanwhile Elliot, not involved in our Con, is keeping tabs on Billy. Turns out Elliot can see a narrative throughline when its in his face and is gonna punch it out of Billy before the concequences of Sophies past come to blow our heroes' faces off. --- Back with Harry, Parker tells him to play the "manly emotional insecurity card". ("If only my dad had been able to tell me he was proud of me when he was still alive") Richard has a safe and Parker is ready to go. (so we're switching Diamond-bracelet targets from Debra to Richard) --- Back with Elliot, Billy is remniscing about old times. (turns out food works just as well as punches)

He doesnt trust Sophie, but also he doesnt have any grudges against her. (he understands that she didnt sell him out, he was going down anyway and he doesnt resent her, unlike Arthur) --- Back at Cultcon, Sophie is being politely interogated by Debra. (Debra sees a kinship/rivalry i think?)

Oh i see. (perhaps a bit late). its a maternity cult, about parenthood. And Sophie was always very maternal basically taking all of 2 episodes before becoming an all-out mom to Parker in the OG run. We're about to drop the "you abandoned your child" revelation aren't we? The narrative throughline of the season isnt the Duke she married, its the current duke/duchess that's gonna be the season finale. --- Back to Breanna and Robert, turns out the cheap bracelets cost 200 USD. Also he wants to play Jazz. Breanna knows where the Yes Virus needs to go (penthouse computer) --- Parker tells Harry to move it like a madagaskan lemur. Gold bars, land title deeds in Uzbek... (close enough to russia that it might have been a something Billy was covering up. Except then a reveal that Elliot knows he wasnt speaking russian cause Elliot speaks Russian.)

Oh god he's working with Billy. Thats our 3rd act complication isnt it? (yes a "sophie had a child" reveal would be a twist but it wouldnt be a complication to the con. But a betrayal by Billy...)

Richard challenges Harry to a duel. (who has spotted the bracelet. its in the mancave.) --- Oh Sophie is doing exposition about Nate, i thought we were gonna get into the Duke. (Or it could be both)

Richard just knocked Harry's earpiece out (quick, tell him its a hearing aid. You've spent too much time around loud cars and payed the price. He'll fall for it!) --- Back from commercial, It seems Harry is going for the lie i came up with (im starting to really get feel these writers)

Parker is compromised with her fake belly, and unfortunately Richard isnt buying the hearing aid story (worth a try) --- Breanna is so pissed that Harry's sword-fighting a viking and she's stuck as an accountant. (Ronald has gone home, grabbed his trumpet, returned to tell Breanna and now he's off again) --- "your brandy is watered down and your cubans are fake" hitting him where it hurts him most.

Harry gets to catch punch out a guy with a sword and catch a thrown axe with his shield. He's really getting into Phase 4. --- Meanwhile back at Sophie, we're she's stalling for time with expositiondumps to Debra. And the clock strikes (i think it was 4?) and Sophie turns the tide from reluctant admisions of past trauma to goading and baiting Debra into a confession. Oh she's calling for security after she just confessed to her actions on her own daily livestream? I do wonder what'll happen when we get back from commercials --- So yeah she was on broadcast (cause of course)

Breanna used Harry as a distraction to put her virus on Richards Wristband (man, if only Debra hadnt insisted on a Nuclear Missile-type 2-key situation she could've stopped all the returns from happening right now)

Harry runs into the Denouement looking like a fool because someone has to explain the logistics of the financial fallout (also he put in a call, the repoman works fast) --- Back at the theatre the Selleck Stache has been glued to a mixer. Parker is keeping the baby, and Harry is keeping the armor (it reeks but its probably expensive)

Richard spilled some beer in the car (which, is anticlimactic as far as "you ruined my car for the mission" jokes go), and Richard is playing jazz outside the theatre. ---

YES I KNEW THAT IT WASNT RUSSIA! It was the Uzbek deed after all! So our next mark is presumably this Ramsey guy. (if he's into runways, he's probably a plane-based smuggler) Final camera pan upwards to a devil-like statue. (not a Gargoyle as it isnt a waterfeature, and its mouthes and orifices are closed so it also isnt a grotesque)

#leverage #leverage redemption #leverage redemption season 2 #the pyramid job

[marchtothefuckingsea]

You Can Do Magic - Loki x reader

Hello I'm not sure if I even finished this to be honest it seems like it kind of ended abruptly but-

My Masterlist, if you're interested!

Enjoy!

x gender neutral reader, no usage of y/n, hurt/comfort, bit of enemies to lovers

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Injury, blood, loss of consciousness (I think?), this hasn't been proofread

Summary: Reader can perform magic, very similar to Loki's. When reader is weak, they cannot perform magic. Loki constantly teases them because of this. Whenthey end up injured badly on a mission with Loki, of all people, they try to hide their injuries but inevitable must rely on him to heal them.

"Don't," I gritted my teeth. "Don't even start." I wanted to smack that smug grin right off of the god's face. He kept up his pace beside me easily, opening his mouth to take another jab at my powers.

"Did someone not sleep well enough last night, love? Forget to eat breakfast?" He mocked me. It took all of my willpower to keep my eyes focused on the quinjet in the distance and not stop to argue with him in the middle of a mission.

I had strong magical powers, very similar to Loki's, and I could hold my own against him easily enough. Until I tired out or got injured. I assumed it was because I was a mere human, who had nowhere near the stamina of an immortal god. I was happy with my powers and how they worked, but I would be lying if I said it didn't irk me when he used his magic for simple, everyday things like changing clothes. His arrogance about it, how much he took it for granted, is what annoyed me the most.

Once he had found this out, he had teased me to no end about it. It was fine at first, bearable, but it became more and more mocking and degrading as time went on, the way he treated me as if my magic were somehow inferior to his. I was somewhat..grateful-if that's what you would even call it-though eventually, as it pushed me to do better and work harder. I had increased my stamina pretty significantly; to me, anyways. He still found it 'weak'.

I picked up my pace, clenching my jaw as we neared the jet and I tried to hide my limp. I collapsed onto the seat, glaring at Loki when he sat right across from me with the same arrogant grin on his face. He, surprisingly, said nothing the entire way back. I drifted in and out of sleep, exhausted both from overusing my magic and combat.

I groaned, jolting awake by the plane touching down back at the tower. Loki was no longer sitting in front of me. Instead, he was already at the exit door, looking tense.

"Something wrong?" I asked him, trying to hide the fatigue in my voice.

"No. Nothing at all." He replied shortly. I decided not to push it any further. If it was important, I would know one way or another.

Once the jet came to a stop, I stood unsteadily on my feet, cursing when I forgot about my ankle, putting my full weight on it.

I stumbled into the tower, making a beeline for my room. After my nap, I'd heal what I could, rest up, and then heal the rest of it. I had another mission with Loki in a couple of days and I wasn't going to make a fool out of myself.

I dropped onto the edge of my bed, pulling my boot off and wincing when I saw my ankle. It was now various shades of purple and red, the bone jutting out of the side awkwardly. I tenderly placed my hands on either side of it, bracing myself as a soft glow emanated from my palms. I gritted my teeth, my face screwing up in pain as I set the bone back and eased the swelling. Unlike Loki, I had never quite mastered numbing the pain that accompanied the forced healing. I had never really cared to; I never healed anyone, only myself, and I had spent my time instead learning more useful, combat centered magic instead. I fell back gasping, all my energy spent.

I curled onto my side and immediately fell asleep.

"We've gone over this a hundred times, Cap, I think I've got it." He gave me a look but shut up.

I pulled on my gear, strapping weapons here and there. I straightened up as Loki entered the room, turning to acknowledge him. He nodded politely at me, signaling he was ready to go.

I bid Steve a farewell, turning to the hallway and briskly following behind Loki. I still favored my ankle slightly. I hadn't healed it all the way, just what was necessary; I had to save my energy for this mission. The two were quite closer together and I hadn't had as much time to rest up, but this was our best chance at infiltration. The big guys were all at another base, leaving only a handful of guards behind for the most part.

I settled into a seat on the jet, situating myself to sleep the entire five hours until we arrived to regenerate as much of my energy as I could.

I blasted another agent with a wave of magic, stumbling back as I felt a massive amount of energy leave me. I clutched a hand to my side, putting pressure on the gunshot wound I had sustained. Blood ran through my fingers and dripped onto the floor.

Loki was covering my back, slashing agents left and right while using his magic to hold the others that he wasn't beating the shit out of back in the hall, like an invisible door. Even the enhanced ones. I once again found myself annoyed by the nonchalance with which he used his magic.

I grimaced when an enhanced soldier swung at me, hitting me in the ribs. I countered by stabbing him in the shoulder. He grunted, but didn't relent. He punched me in the ribs again, and again, and again before sending me flying into the wall.

Another, not enhanced, stormed me, slashing my collarbone and stabbing me in the shoulder as soon as I slid down to the ground. I gasped out a strangled cry, using the last of my magic to place a shield around myself for a few seconds, knowing I would be completely vulnerable afterwards.

I watched my arms shimmer slightly, my vision hazy. The man in front of me froze, making a choking noise, before dropping to the ground in front of me dead, with a dagger sticking out of his back. I pushed myself to my arms weakly, struggling to force my body into a sitting position as a blurry Loki came into focus. My shallow breaths were wet with blood and I coughed, shielding my mouth with my arm. It came back spattered with blood; that wasn’t a good sign.

I released my shield, slumping forward in exhaustion. My forehead on the cool floor, I breathed in shakily in an attempt to calm myself. I felt a cold hand on the side of my neck and I couldn’t stop myself from involuntarily leaning into the gesture and sighing; his cooling touch brought some relief to my suddenly feverish body.

I lifted my head up, suddenly aware of the situation I was in. I saw Loki open his mouth in an attempt to either ask me if I was alright, or mock my weakness again. Judging from the look on his face I would guess it was the former, surprisingly enough.

“I’m fine.” I snapped at him before he could get a word out, my voice cracking pathetically. I slapped his hand off of my shoulder, glaring at him before stumbling to my feet. I leaned against the wall for a moment to regain my balance, once again pressing my forehead to the cool concrete. I groaned, pressing my hand to the bullet wound on my side, prioritizing that more than anything else. My ribs hurt, I was pretty sure a couple had been cracked; blood flowed freely from my shoulder since the knife had been pulled out, but I didn’t dare try to reach that wound to apply pressure to it, afraid to pull at the hole in my abdomen. My face was contorted in pain. My legs felt weak beneath me.

After a deep, painful breath, I turned around to face Loki, steeling myself for the trek back outside. His lips were pursed as he stared at me in concern. I didn’t believe it for one second.

I took a single step forward, immediately collapsing when my legs gave out beneath me. Loki caught me, his arms around my waist, before I could hit the ground. I gasped in pain, leaning fully against him. He gently lowered me to the floor, allowing me to sit up with my back against the cool wall. I grit my teeth, suppressing a cough. His hands were still on my shoulders, but I didn’t care. It felt rather nice.

I glanced up, wearily meeting his now very obviously concerned gaze. It threw me off a bit and almost made me worry about him.

“I’m fine.” I tried to reassure him. I broke off into a fit of coughs. He pulled me into a bit of a hug, holding me protectively against his chest as coughs wracked my body. I leaned into him, allowing the coolness of him to soothe my fevered skin. I rested my forehead against his armor, shaking with each cough. His hands rubbed soothingly up and down my back.

I didn’t pull away once I stopped coughing, instead I slumped against him weakly, everything finally having taken its toll on me. I breathed shallowly, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth and throat. The building was eerily silent, save for my panting and Loki’s occasional murmurs of comfort into my ear.

“Let me heal you.” He said quietly, suddenly pulling away and looking down at me. I shook my head.

“I won’t tease you anymore, you have my word. Just allow me to heal your injuries.” He insisted.

“I can make it back to the jet. I’ll be fine.” I mumbled, leaning into him again and chasing the cold he provided. “Just give me a second.”

Eventually, I struggled against his hold, giving him the signal that I was rested up enough. He gracefully rose to his feet, gently tugging me along with him. He looped his arm around my waist carefully, and we shuffled down the hallway.

After a few twists and turns, I had tired immensely. I leaned against him, barely picking up my feet. Nothing seemed real, and my vision had grown worryingly black around the edges. As we exited the building, the brisk winter air managed to wake me a little bit. I noticeably perked up, the cool air soothing my burning skin.

Loki glanced around in visible confusion, his arm still around my waist. He touched his other hand to his earpiece, irritation becoming apparent on his face.

“Where’s the jet?” He demanded.

“We had to leave, some of them stormed us, they were making too much of a commotion. Meet us a couple miles south, there should be a clearing in those woods over there. We’re there.” I heard Sam’s reply through my own earpiece.

“Can’t you meet up with us here? My partner is hurt.”

“No can do, sorry. We can’t draw any more attention.”

I heard him swear under his breath before turning to check on me. I looked back at him reassuringly, trying not to show how weak I felt. I knew he was being helpful now, but after the mission was over, he'd never let me hear the end of it.

I blinked hard, attempting to clear my vision that had suddenly become dark and hazy. Loki immediately noticed, guiding me over to the side of the building and helping me sit down. I let out a quiet whine, pressing my hand harder against the bullet wound that still hadn't stopped bleeding. He seemed to just now realize the extent of my injuries as he looked me up and down, undisguised panic in his eyes.

My head lolled to the side.

"Stay awake." I felt his cool fingers on my face, stroking my cheekbones as he tried to keep me from passing out completely. I groaned in protest.

"Look at me, love." He said softly. I opened my eyes slightly before jerking back in surprise at how close his face was to mine. I winced.

He mumbled out an apology before his fingers found the hem of my top. He glanced up at me for approval and I managed a slight nod, leaning my head back against the wall and allowing my eyes to drift shut.

I felt his slender fingers prod here and there on my abdomen; I winced slightly at some spots. He moved onto my ribs and my eyes flew open, panting. I pushed his hands away weakly, mumbling out incoherent pleas.

"Let me heal you." He said softly, taking my hand into his.

"You're never going to let me live this one down, are you?" I muttered out, forcing my heavy eyelids open once again.

"I've come to a realization." He admitted, brushing his thumb across my knuckles.

"Please, your injuries are severe." That captured my attention. The god never asked for permission to do anything, let alone begged, but his voice was pleading. I knew he didn't have to ask me, and yet he did. I was intrigued.

"Okay." I whispered. That was all he needed, a soft green glow emanated from his palm, radiating out to his fingertips. He gingerly brushed his fingers along my torso, healing the bullet wound and mending my ribs; before moving up to my shoulder, a gentle warmth trailing behind as each injury healed. It was a far contrast to how my magic healed. The only thing that didn't disappear was the fever on my skin and the exhaustion, but the only remedy for that would be time off and rest. It was the price to pay for using my magic, after all.

His hands tenderly found their way up to my face, the emerald glow fading all except for his thumb, which he softly stroked over my busted lip. I sighed, once again realizing how close our faces were.

He leaned in closer; I could feel his cool breath fanning across my face. My breathing, which had evened out after he healed me, was now shallow, but for a completely different reason this time.

He gave me plenty of time to move away, to tell him I didn't want this, but I didn't. I leaned towards him as his eyes flickered down to my lips for a brief second before meeting mine again. My eyes fluttered shut as I felt his cool lips on mine. It was a brief kiss, but full of unspoken emotions.

"Why? Why did you ask?" I breathed out.

He knew exactly what I meant.

"I wanted you to trust me," He said lowly. "I wasn't going to heal you without your permission unless absolutely necessary."

"Like if I was dying?"

"Don't say that." His hand came back up to caress my cheek. "You were far too close to that today."

"I know." I murmured. "Thank you."

"Of course. Let's get to the others now, shall we?" He rose to his feet, offering a hand to me like so many other times he had done so, mockingly. Except this time it was genuine, and I finally recognized what I had always seen in his eyes. Affection.

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[cherienymphe]

Gangsta’s Paradise (Michael Gray x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON BORDERLINE NON-CON, blackmail, loss of virginity, (for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that Finn Cole is taller than what he is okay)

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: an agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.

~

Soft lips brushed over your bare shoulder, even softer hands guiding the strap of your slip down your arm, fingers dancing along your skin. Despite the cold weather outside, your room was sweltering, and you pinned it onto the man behind you...the man who was currently unwrapping you like a gift. With fear coursing through your frame, you realized that in a way, you were a gift. A pretty little gift given to the big bad gangster in exchange for resources and protection and whatever else your family needed.

Your eyes fell closed, and you thought back to the day where your father’s desperation had first begun. Desperation that you had ultimately underestimated.

You had been nervous as you tended to the dishes that day, glancing at the clock every now and then. Cleaning and tidying up was how you coped, how you attempted to calm yourself. It normally worked, but today was an exception. Looking around, you realized that there was nothing else to clean, and with a sigh, you leaned against the wall, biting your lip.

The rest of the family had gone to Birmingham. They’d gone to handle...business, and you being the only girl in the family since your mom died, you weren’t allowed to have a hand in the business. It had been a great deal of bitterness for you for years, ever since you were old enough to understand what was really going on, but now you had gradually accepted your father’s reasoning.

Your father and brother and uncles had left early, taking some of their best men with them. You knew they only did that for serious matters, and you had been worried ever since you saw them leave. You had scrubbed the house from top to bottom, and now you had nothing to do but wait. It was fortunate that you didn’t have to wait for much longer, hearing several cars come down the driveway.

No one greeted you when you opened the door, faces pinched and sullen, and you knew then that things didn’t go as expected. The only one to acknowledge you was your father, the older man pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before trudging inside with the rest. You swallowed, conflicted on whether or not you should say anything, but your worry got the best of you.

“How did it go?”

Before your father could answer, you heard your brother slam his hand into the wall, the pictures shaking from the force.

“Peaky fucking Blinders,” he spat, and your blood ran cold.

Your eyes met your father’s, and he gave you a look as if to say leave it alone, but you were in shock. You had never imagined that your family would start doing business with the likes of them. Everyone had heard of them, knew who they were and what they did, and the thought of your family being involved with them in any way was a terrifying one.

Everything those men touched turned to poison

“Father,” you had chided as soon as you walked into his office moments later.

From behind his desk, he held a hand up, the other pressed to his forehead as he sighed.

“Not now, Y/N,” he said, sounding tired.

“You promised that things would be different,” you whispered, ignoring his words. “You told me that we would start becoming legitimate, legal. That we’d start doing things right.”

“Y/N-.”

“You promised.”

He slammed his hand down onto the wood, making you wince.

“They’ve got their hand in every cookie jar that matters. Thomas Shelby is a political man, now-.”

You cut him off with a scoff, folding your arms over your chest.

“Only a fool would get mixed up with the likes of them.”

He shot you a scathing look, and you swallowed, looking away with a sigh.

“We need their influence, their resources...their allyship.”

Your eyes widened at this, realizing that your father intended for much more than a one time business deal.

“You can’t be serious,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond right away, simply heaving a sigh before turning his attention to the paperwork before him.

“I will do my best to keep you away from all this, but prepare yourself for seeing a lot more of them, eh?”

He didn’t say anything more, and when it became apparent that that was the end of the discussion, you turned and left. You could hear your brothers and uncles murmuring in the kitchen, going over the day’s events, no doubt, and you made your way upstairs. You never knew exactly what it was that your father sold, but you figured that drugs and alcohol was the gist of it. He’d been in the business for a long time, and he’d made a promise to you that he was going to put a stop to it. That he’d start making money the right way.

Getting mixed up with the Shelbys, the Peaky Blinders, was not the way to go about it.

You understood the appeal though. They had power, resources, influence. With them as an ally, people would think twice about screwing your family over...but was it worth it? Was it worth the increase in violence? Putting the family in the kind of danger you could never even imagine? Was it worth the devastation and death that seemed to follow them like a plague? The answer was simple.

No.

Your father didn’t seem to care about any of that though. Day in and day out, for weeks, you watched your family leave early in the day and return late in the evening, looking more irritated than they did the previous day. It was safe to say that negotiations with the Peaky Blinders was not going as expected. The frustration and annoyance was plain as day on your father’s features, and even though nary a word was uttered to you about anything, you could feel the tension mounting in the air.

The first time you actually met someone of the infamous family, it was a Wednesday. It was a rare day within the past few weeks in which your father was at the house. He had been holed up in his study all day when there was a knock on the door. You had blinked in confusion, trying to recall if your father had mentioned anything about company, but you had only just begun to move when you heard your father’s heavy footsteps traveling down the hallway.

“Stay back.”

Normally you would have argued against him, especially with a tone as harsh as his had been, but something in his voice made you listen. There was something in his eyes, something in the way he walked that made you understand the severity of the situation. You remained in the living room, listening as your father answered the door, unfamiliar voices eventually joining his.

Two men who you’d never seen before joined him in the hallway, standing between the kitchen and living room. You had slowly put your book down, story long forgotten at the sight of the strangers, and your movement caught their attention. Both of them were wearing hats and long coats, but you could still tell that their hair was dark. The lankier of the two was a bit taller, a mustache adorning his face while the other moved a toothpick around between his lips, a faint smirk crawling onto his face at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” the taller one greeted, and you quietly returned the greeting.

Your father cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

“Arthur, John...this is my daughter, Y/N. She likes to look after the house when I’m gone.”

It was the truth. After your mother’s death, the house was where you felt most comfortable, and you were more than happy to lock yourself in its walls. Especially while the rest of your family ventured out.

“Darling, this is John and Arthur Shelby. I’ve been doing some business with them, remember?”

You fought the urge to sneer at your father, keeping your gaze on the strangers in your home instead.

“Of course. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said with a tense smile.

Knowing you so well, your father could recognize the displeasure on your face, and if the other men before you noticed it too, they didn’t speak on it. You watched as they followed your father upstairs to his study, the younger of the two tipping his hat to you before departing. You remained there for a time before slowly exhaling, turning to make your way outside. You paid no mind to how long they stayed, spending the rest of your day away outside in your garden. Your mother always kept one, and you had done the same since she died.

That was the first of the few times you ran across Arthur and John Shelby. They were the only two that ever came by the house, greeting you with tipped hats and secretive smiles. You had grown somewhat used to their presence and faces, but not enough to be completely comfortable around them. You didn’t meet the rest of them, didn’t meet him, until weeks later.

“What?” you had breathed, staring at your father in disbelief. 

You watched as he rubbed his forehead, face pinched and eyes clouded over, telling you that he disliked this as much as you did.

“You’ll come to the next meeting with us,” he repeated, and you let out a sharp breath.

So you had heard him correctly.

“...why?” you eventually asked, sounding much calmer than you actually were.

“I know you hate them, but those Shelbys do have some morals about them. Things have been rather tense lately. It seems that we just can’t come to an agreement,” he sighed out, leaning against his desk. “...and I fear that things could become...rowdy.”

He didn’t continue, but you were smart enough to guess where this was going. When the realization hit you, your heart dropped, and you stared at your father like he was a stranger. The man you knew, the man your mother had married, would’ve wanted you as far away from any business dealings as possible. Somehow, the very same man was standing before you and suggesting…

“You think my presence at the meeting will make them behave...make them think twice about doing anything...violent,” you murmured, more to yourself than him.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to, and you clenched your jaw.

“...and if it doesn’t-?”

“It will,” he argued.

“...but if it doesn’t…” you repeated with more force. “...then what? What will you do if they bring out the guns and razor blades right there? What will you do if they decide to use me to make you agree to their terms?”

Your father was silent, and you stepped towards him, eyes pleading.

“What will you do then?”

You watched as he straightened, standing to his full height as he looked down his nose at you. It was like you were looking at a completely different person, someone who wasn’t like your father at all. As you eyed him, you could see the stress on his face, the strain in his muscles, the conflict in his eyes. You’d had your suspicions that your family’s business with the Peaky Blinders was more serious than you could’ve imagined, but the toll it was clearly taking on your father confirmed it.

Even if you didn’t agree with what was going on, how your father went about getting what he so clearly needed and wanted, it was obvious that this was important to him. Since the death of your mother, very few things brought your father happiness. Very few things even halfway satisfied him, and hoping that this would, shoulders sagging with defeat, you agreed.

This was how you found yourself seated beside your father at none other than The Garrison. The pub was empty of any patrons or staff, only those important to the meeting present. Thomas Shelby, the man himself, was seated across from your father. He was as intimidating as you always believed he’d be, smooth voice having done nothing to calm you when he introduced himself.

John and Arthur, the two you were familiar with, were on his right while two more men by the name of Isaiah and Finn were on his left. They were one short in comparison to your father, his two brothers, your two brothers, and yourself, but an empty chair told you that one more was on their way. Seeing that the meeting had already begun, you deduced that their tardiness wasn’t a concern. Considering the nature of the meeting, a whole bunch of words that could be summed up into “who controls what”, you envied the mystery person’s absence. 

For minutes now, you had contributed nothing, but then again… That wasn’t your purpose. No, the purpose of your presence was to keep the men in line. Your entire purpose was to play on what few morals the men had, and you fought to hold in a laugh. With every member of your family being armed, you wondered if your father even believed this would work. Too busy stewing over how your father had purposely put you in harm’s way, you didn’t take notice of the pub door opening.

You were only pulled from your thoughts when the sound of footsteps finally registered. Considering that your back was to the door, you couldn’t see their face, and you didn’t want to appear nosey or unprofessional or draw attention to yourself in any way really by turning to look. You only glanced up when he finally came into your line of sight, and you observed him in the same manner that you did all the others.

Something about him reminded you of Thomas, but his features were much softer, not so harsh. However, that made him no less intimidating. He wasn’t sporting a hat, dark hair neatly pushed away from his face, and something about him was different from the rest. On his own, he didn’t look like he belonged with the rest of them, and as Thomas explained that he was their chief accountant, you got the feeling that that was purposely done. He introduced the man as Michael Gray, his cousin, and losing interest once again, you looked away.

You played with your fingers beneath the table, wanting to desperately be anywhere but here. You had a feeling that you’d get your wish very soon, taking note of the change in tone in your father’s voice. He sounded happier, relieved, and you glanced up at him, his relief contagious. As you did so, your eyes briefly connected with that of the newcomer, Michael, and you quickly looked away. Even still, you could feel the weight of his stare, and you reluctantly returned it.

He didn’t look the least bit ashamed at having been caught, bringing his cigarette up to his lips, a thick coil of smoke escaping them moments later. His face was hard to read, and you felt yourself frowning slightly. You blinked, eyes trailing to your brother on your father’s other side, but he seemed invested in the meeting. Everyone seemed to be...everyone but you and the man named Michael.

When your eyes met his again, it was just in time to watch him lean over, lips at his cousin’s ear as he whispered something to him. His gaze held yours the entire time. You glanced around again, feeling as if there was a meeting within a meeting going on, and you were the only one to notice. Brushing off the unease you felt, you sat back in your chair, eyes on the table. It was hard to ignore the heavy gaze that pinned you to your seat, but you fought to manage.

Especially since it seemed that an agreement was finally being made.

However, that sinking feeling in your chest traveled to your gut, settling there as you watched John move to whisper something to Thomas. The man, the leader of this great gang, paused for the briefest of moments. It happened so quickly, and John was back in his seat as if nothing had happened, and while Thomas’ words did not falter, the way his eyes briefly flickered to you had you straightening in your seat.

Your eyes fell onto the blue-eyed newcomer again, and he took another drag of his cigarette. Every single one of them wore smug expressions, from the first moment you’d been introduced to every individual man, you noticed that they all looked as if they owned the world. Michael Gray was no different, but the way he looked at you made you want to be as far away from here as possible. As more tendrils of smoke left his pink lips, you noted that he didn’t look at you like he just owned the world. He looked at you like he owned you too.

“Everything does seem to be in order, but...there is another matter I think we should discuss,” you heard Thomas Shelby say.

You looked to him, watching as he stood, his family following his lead and your family following theirs. You tightened your coat around you as Thomas gestured for your father to follow him into the back. His absence made you nervous, but you simply stepped closer to your brother as you watched him follow the other man.

“Let’s wait outside,” your brother said, and eager to be out of here, you hastily agreed.

Your other brother remained inside with your uncles while you followed Matthew, the middle child of you three, outside. 

“You alright?” he asked you as soon as you were in the fresh air. “You looked a bit tense in there.”

You watched him light a smoke, and you glanced away.

“The other one...the cousin, Michael… How much do you know about him?”

Matthew shrugged, exhaling.

“Not much. Doesn’t say much at the meetings, mostly handles the money,” he told you.

That did little to ease you.

“Why…?”

You were just about to tell him the reason for your curiosity when the door to The Garrison came flying open. You watched in shock as your father came storming out, your other brother and uncles hot on his tail.

“What’s going on?” Matthew asked, just as alarmed as you were.

Instead of an answer, your father simply grabbed your arm, and yanked you along. You almost tripped over your feet, and you looked at your father like he’d lost his mind. His face was clouded over, eyes thunderous, and you wondered what had happened in such a short time.

“What-?”

“Quiet,” he hissed, sounding the angriest you’d ever heard him, and your eyes widened at this.

“...but-.”

“I said quiet! Get in the car,” he spat.

He didn’t give you a chance to listen, opting for shoving you inside himself. Your foot was barely inside when he slammed the door shut, and you stared at the window in shock. Matthew joined you and your father in the car while the rest piled into the other vehicle. Your confusion only grew as the car roared to life, and you glanced up then to rest your eyes on a familiar face.

He leaned against the door to the pub, a fresh cigarette held between his lips as he lit it. His blue eyes were focused entirely on you, even as the smoke clouded his view and your father began to drive off, he didn’t appear to be interested in anything else but your trembling frame.

You sat at the dining table in shock, listening to the muffled sound of your father’s angry voice that traveled from his study. He was in there with the rest of the family, and he’d been in there for hours. He had barely looked at you when you all came home, heading straight for his office as he ordered the rest of the family inside. There was an unspoken agreement that that did not include you.

Still, the uneasiness from the meeting remained. You could still feel the heated gaze of the blue-eyed man, smell the smoke that drifted from his lips, see the way he watched you as he whispered to John. You could see the way Thomas had looked at you as John whispered to him, and this was what made you press your ear to your father’s study door hours earlier. This was what drove your curiosity to discover just what happened when you and your brother left.

“He wants her,” your father had forced out, sounding like he was going to be sick.

There was a long pause, and you had frowned in confusion.

“Who?” your other brother, Nathaniel, had eventually asked.

“The Gray kid! Polly’s son,” he spat as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He wants her.”

You could hear your father’s heavy breaths, hear him pacing, and the confirmation that the discussion was about Michael Gray did nothing to quell your confusion. The silence that followed was loud and heavy, something unspoken in the air that you had yet to understand.

“...what?” you heard one of your uncles murmur.

Your father heaved a sigh, sounding much calmer now.

“They are...prepared to meet us more than halfway if we let him have her,” he slowly said. “Everything we’ve been working towards, everything we’ve been yearning for… It could be ours in a matter of hours if we let him have her.”

“No!”

Nathaniel’s voice could be heard before your father even finished.

“Absolutely not-.”

“Nathaniel…”

“You’re not considering this...are you? Father…”

“They’ve given us the day to think it over-.”

“What is there to think about? She’s our sister, your daughter, not some whore on the street,” Matthew interrupted, his words making you freeze.

Bile threatened to spill from your lips as you stared at the door, slowly backing away, their voices becoming less clear as you did so. Your back was pressed to the wall as the truth settled over you, and you suddenly felt foolish for failing to put it together sooner. Your stomach swirled, fear settling into your bones, and before you knew it, your head was in the commode, expelling everything you’d eaten that day. The tears had come shortly after, and that was how Matthew found you hours later, sitting at the table with tears in your eyes.

“I know you heard,” he said, sitting across from you.

You hesitantly looked up at him as he poured a glass of whiskey.

“You never could keep your nose out of things. Told you years ago to stop listening in on father’s conversations-.”

“Well, I’m glad I did this time,” you tearfully spat.

Matthew sighed, sliding the glass towards you.

“I think you deserve it tonight,” he said as you threw him an odd look.

Your shoulders sagged, and you gratefully accepted it, scrunching your face up at the strong taste that hit your tongue. The both of you sat there in silence for a while, listening to your father’s muffled voice, and you took another sip.

“What’s he going to do?”

Your fear must have been evident because his hand rested on yours on the table.

“Hey...he’s not going to agree, alright? He would never…”

You shook your head before he even finished, sniffling as you took another sip.

“I don’t know, Matthew. I don’t know,” you breathed.

Your eyes met his, and he frowned at you.

“These past few months or so… He’s been different, and you know it. He’s made deals before, but it’s different this time. Everything he’s ever wanted is so close. It’s different this time, and you know it, Matthew.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. You both knew that it was different this time, and you shuddered to think about what tomorrow would bring.

The next day came and went, much to your relief, and although you were glad that your father didn’t give into the Peaky Blinders, into what they wanted from you...what he wanted from you, it was still an unacknowledged elephant in the room. They still left the house for business, but you didn’t know if it was with the Blinders or not. You shuddered to think of how that conversation went when your father refused their offer. 

You got the feeling that they weren’t used to not getting their way.

It was three nights later, three nights since that fateful meeting in which you’d caught the eye of Michael Gray, that you left your room to get a glass of water. The house was dark and quiet, an unusual sight seeing as at least one brother was usually up late in the kitchen, drinking or having a smoke. That wasn’t the sight that greeted you.

The kitchen was empty of anyone else, and you drank your water slowly. You hoped that things would be better now. You recalled how relieved your father had looked over the past few days, how much softer his features looked, and you desperately hoped that it was because the family was finally on the right track. You made your way back into the hall, glass pressed to your lips, when you paused.

The only light in the living room came from the moon, it’s rays bleeding through the windows and onto the furniture. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to take note of the shape that didn’t belong. The shape of a man. Light flooded the room, and all of your breath left you, glass shattering at your feet.

You stared at him in shock, taking in everything from his neat hair to his shiny dark shoes. He was dressed much like he was the first day you met him, a dark grey almost black looking suit hugging his frame. He leaned back in your father’s chair, nursing a glass of Brandy, and it was then that you realized he’d been here for a while.

“Father!”

It was instinctual now, how your father was the first person you ran to. He didn’t respond, and you called for him again, cutting yourself off when a smirk slowly danced along Michael’s lips. Your mind whirled, and dread filled you.

“What are you doing in my house? Where is my father?”

A small chuckle escaped him, eyes twinkling with mirth as he slowly pulled out a cigarette. 

“What do you think I’m doing here, love?”

Your entire body froze, the implication behind his words clear, and you shook your head. You called for Matthew...then Nathaniel...then your uncles and your father again. The only thing that met you was silence, and your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden. The weight of your predicament fully settled over you, and you slowly shook your head.

“No,” you breathed in disbelief. “...no.”

The man before you didn’t respond, simply pressing the cigarette between his lips, reaching in his pockets for a light, no doubt.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was what you said, what your lips formed, but your heart and your head didn’t agree. Something didn’t feel right from the moment you woke up, and a part of you that you desperately wished would shut up did believe him. 

“Do you really think your father would allow anyone into his home without his knowledge or permission?”

You watched him pull a drag, smoke filling the air, and you stumbled back, running for the door. You didn’t hear him behind you, and for that you were relieved, but your relief was short lived. Upon swinging the door open, you were met with the sight of John and Arthur Shelby dawdling in your driveway. They appeared to be having a conversation when you opened the door, their voices abruptly cutting off at your appearance. John simply smirked at you from around the smoke in his mouth, Arthur tipping his hat towards you.

“‘Ello, sweetheart.”

With a shriek, you slammed the door shut in their faces, chest heaving with uneven breaths as the situation fully resonated with you. You stumbled back further into the hallway, and Michael was still in the same place as before, nursing a cigarette as you fought to figure out a way out of this.

“You can’t...you can’t do this,” you eventually murmured, glaring at him.

Michael simply fixed you with an even stare, smoke escaping from his nose, the cigarette dancing between his fingers.

“I’m a Peaky Blinder, love. I can do whatever I want.”

He said it with so much conviction that you knew he believed it, and the longer you stared at him, the more you believed it too. You warily glanced around, telling yourself that you might actually have to fight this man, might have to fight to protect what your father had wrongly given away. Even though part of you denied it, you slowly accepted that Michael was telling the truth. Despite the fact that your family’s business and even lives were at stake, your father had no right to trade away what didn’t belong to him.

Michael’s eyes never left you as you stood there, and you finally looked to him again when he cleared his throat. The cigarette rested between his lips as he slipped out of his jacket, and you swallowed at the dark look in his eyes. He took another drag.

“Before you do...whatever it is that you’re about to do…”

He parted his mouth, the smoke swirling in there for a bit before pressing his lips together, tendrils escaping his nose.

“You should know that I’ve shot men in the head with no hesitation. I drug my blade across a man’s throat once and reveled in the taste of his blood on my lips.”

You flinched, taking a step back.

“When Tommy first tried to scare me away, threaten to send me back to the village in which I grew up… I told him about a well there, that I’d blow it up with dynamite if he made me go back...didn’t care if my hands went with it.”

He finished his cigarette, putting the rest of it out, eyes boring into yours as he slowly exhaled the smoke he’d been holding in.

“I just knew it’d be worth it to see those pretty white bricks all over that pretty village green...and I meant every word of that.”

You didn’t respond, and his blue eyes slowly dragged over every part of you, taking you in from your hair all the way to your bare feet, lingering on the thin nightgown in between.

“It’s something about the violence, you see.”

His words unnerved you, and he continued.

“The violence, the blood...the fight...it does something to me. Gets me excited, all riled up, so please…”

He gestured towards you, eyes glinting with something that made your heart stop.

“Do fight back, hit me even… It’ll just make me want to fuck you that much harder.”

The tears finally skipped down your cheeks, and you stumbled back as he stood to his full height. With a shaky breath, you staggered up the stairs, running to the last room at the end of the hall, a guest room. You were quick to pull the window up, looking down below in worry. It was high up, that was for sure, but the alternative was worse.

Before you could even get a foot out, warm hands pressed into your stomach, pulling you back against a broad chest. A startled scream left your lips, and Michael’s hands traveled to your arms, fingers pressed into your skin as he held you tight. You leaned your head away from him as he pressed his face into your neck, breathing you in.

“Your father made a big mistake bringing you around us, eh?”

You couldn’t will your lips to move, too paralyzed with fear and nerves and anxiety for the unknown. The way he touched you was foreign, the scent that clung to him, a mix of cologne and expensive liquor and cigarettes, was foreign. The creeping sensation that blanketed your body was foreign. All of this was foreign, and more tears pooled within your eyes as the inevitable drew closer.

“He thought you’d keep us in line, keep us on leashes...but ever since I saw you, the only thing I wanted to do was take you like a fucking animal.”

You jerked in his hold, fighting to get away from him, but Michael tsk’d. 

“Let’s not spoil this, hmm? You seem like a good girl...if you catch my drift.”

More tears fell at his words, and he hummed.

“You do. You strike me as a well behaved lady of the house...and you girls like for this to be special, yeah? All gentle and loving,” he slowly mocked as he forced you towards the bed.

He shoved you onto it, knees pressing down on either side of you soon after, preventing you from going anywhere. Your tears soaked the sheet, and Michael’s fingers ghosted over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“I want you to look at me as I fuck you.”

He gently turned you over onto your back, and you stared up at the man before you. Even in the darkness, you could see the blue of his eyes perfectly. They were bright and filled with a hunger that scared you, a hunger you had never been on the receiving end of before. Michael leaned over you, caging you beneath him as he pressed his forehead to yours, soon followed by his lips.

You’d kissed men before, but they were soft sweet nothings that could barely be called a kiss. You knew that if you wanted to marry well, contribute something of substance to your family, you had to be smart about your actions...your reputation. All of the men, realizing that you weren’t going to give them what they wanted, left. Accepting that your family and reputation came first, they always left, and it hurt every single time. 

But it will be worth it.

That’s what you constantly told yourself. After every heartbreak, every sneer, every harsh insult thrown your way about what a frigid bitch you were, you told yourself that it would be worth it. And yet...here you were...beneath a gangster, having your reputation ripped away from you by a man who stole and murdered and wasn’t decent in any way.

Life was funny.

After slipping out of his shirt, the flimsy material floating somewhere behind him, Michael guided your hands to his chest. Your trembling fingers danced along his taut skin, taking note of an imperfection. An old bullet wound, you deduced. The dark-haired man groaned into your mouth, pressing into you, and you could feel him hard beneath his trousers. The reality of what was about to happen seemed to slink around your neck like a noose, and you didn’t even realize that you’d started panting until Michael’s hand found your neck.

“I-I can’t- I can’t do this-.”

He shushed you, kissing you again.

“Behave...and I’ll be good to you. Breathe,” he urged.

You slowly did as he suggested, squeezing your eyes shut as his other hand pushed the smooth material of your nightgown up your legs. One hand was still on your throat as that same hand traveled to his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. Your whole body went numb for a moment, ears ringing and vision blurring, and when you finally came back to earth, Michael’s hips were pressing against yours, nothing in between you.

He was speaking to you, you noted.

“...what?” you murmured.

“What’s your name, love?”

You swallowed, quickly darting your tongue out to swipe over your lips.

“Y/N.”

He repeated it, clearly liking the taste of it on his tongue. He nodded at you, drinking you in as he ran his eyes over your face, seemingly committing you to memory before sliding into you with one quick thrust. Your nails pressed into his skin, and he hissed, your own lips parting to let out a pained gasp. Michael held himself above you, a low groan escaping him as his forehead touched yours again.

“You feel fucking amazing,” he whispered, nose bumping against yours.

He held himself there for a long time, just feeling you. You weren’t naïve enough to think he did it for your sake, and you got the feeling that he wanted to drag this out for as long as possible. When he did finally move, your chest arched upwards, unable to handle the unfamiliar feeling. His hand was still on your neck, and you wrapped your hand around his wrist.

The feel of him inside of you was strange. You couldn’t describe it, but you felt full...you felt stretched...and in a way, it felt unnatural, but the heat that festered deep within your stomach said otherwise. One of Michael’s hands was pressed into the bed beside your head, holding himself up so that he could look at you. You remembered his words, and too terrified to disobey, you fought to keep your eyes on him.

His face was strained with concentration, eyes flickering between your face and down to where the two of you connected. The hand that was on your neck slid down to your chest, thumb brushing over a heaving breast before resting on your stomach, pinning you down as he snapped his hips into yours. It was too much for you, too much at once, and your lashes fluttered. 

“Look at me,” he roughly breathed.

“I can’t...I can’t,” you panted, head twisting from side to side.

You could hardly focus on anything other than the way he was thrusting into you, taking you to heights you never knew existed. He called your name then, and you reluctantly met his eyes, the hunger in them making you shudder.

“That’s right. Eyes on me, love. Keep your eyes on me while I fuck you,” he murmured.

The smugness in his voice and face made you frown, a spark of anger in you.

“Do you fuck all of your girls like this? Huh?”

He didn’t respond, pink lips simply curving upwards into a humorous smirk.

“...or am I special because you get to ruin my life and go on with yours?” you shakily spat.

Michael slammed into you then, forcing a choked gasp from you.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. You just focus on milking my cock, hmm?”

You wanted to hit him, spit at him, do anything other than lay there and take his unrelenting thrusts, but your body seized before you could do any of that. Your toes curled and your stomach clenched and your body shook as stars exploded behind your eyes. You hadn’t even realized what a moaning mess you had become until Michael paused just to listen to you, just taking you in with something akin to awe on his face.

You didn't have time to catch your breath before he was chasing his own high, hands pressed into your waist so hard you were sure you’d bruise. Your nails dug into his wrists, choked moans tumbling from your mouth as you clenched around him again, just in time for him to spill into you, releasing a long breath as he did so. You clung to him, tears catching in your lashes as you laid there, mind whirling at what you’d just done.

You flinched, shrinking in on yourself when his lips brushed the corner of your mouth just before pulling out of you. You winced at the action, staring up at the ceiling as you heard him moving about. You turned your head when you heard the strike of a match and watched as he lit himself another cigarette, pants just barely settling on his waist.

“So what happens now?” you finally asked, voice low in the dark room. 

Would your father and brothers come through that door tomorrow, pretending that they hadn’t sold you out? Would they be able to even look at you? Stomach the sight of you? Fresh tears kissed your eyes just as Michael spoke.

“Well…”

He took a pull, exhaling the smoke through his nose as he neared you.

“...I’m going to fuck you at least three more times before the night is over.”

You sat up at this, paying no mind to the pain in between your legs as you stared at him with wide eyes. Without realizing it, you gripped the end of your nightgown, pulling it to your knees as if somehow trying to prevent that very thing from happening.

“What-?”

“...and then I want you to pack a bag. Just some things that’ll last you a few days. I’ll be buying you a whole new lot of clothes anyway.”

“Michael-.”

“You’re my girl, now,” he quietly said, voice firm as he stood over you, free hand playing with the strap of your gown as the other held his cigarette to his lips.

You shook your head, staring up at him in disbelief.

“I...no. My family...they-.”

“Sold you away without a second thought.”

Your heart clenched as he threw that in your face, and you turned away as he reached for you. His fingers pinched your chin, jerking you to face him, and you swallowed. He bent down, staring into your eyes.

“You won’t have to worry about that with us...with me.”

He took one more pull of his cigarette before placing it on the nightstand, tendrils of smoke escaping his nose and mouth just before he pressed his lips to yours, fingers pressing into your skin as he settled between your legs.

~

tags: @cocoamoonmalfoy @trinittyy @ziamslarry-blog @a531a​ @s-u-t​ @sunshinechim-98​ @callmechannel​ @lil-hungryy​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @scissorkidscult​  @madamerubrum  

#peaky blinders #michael gray #michael gray x reader #michael gray x you #michael shelby #thomas shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #finn shelby #isaiah jesus #dark fic #dark michael gray #polly gray #michael gray smut #michael gray imagine #yandere

[lausterdomyamong]

HAIKYUU BOY MAFIA AU

note: this is from all of the results from my haikyuu mafia quiz, this is about who they are and how he met you. I’m so embarrassed by my writing but yeah, I’m already here so here we go <3

Characters included: Kita, Atsumu, Osamu, Suna, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Mattsun, Makki, Bokuto, Akaashi, Kuroo, and Sakusa <3

The quiz

Kita Shinsuke: Gather the scattered group of yakuza to be one since his young age, and reign as the leader since then. his underlings accidentally mistaken you for another 'girl' and bring you back to the headquarters. You're ordered to strip and let them appraise your worth- luckily, Kita notices the mistake. despite being a yakuza and is doing something horrendous, he has a moral code. he promises to make it up to you. maybe it's a part of his plan from the very start- but hey, every mistake can be made.

Miya Atsumu: 'dealer' they say. yeah, atsumu is a dealer on everything. drugs, gambling, and many more. to be frank, he's very creative and heretical. kita almost wants to disown him, only if he's the one that keeps inarizaki flourishing with his wit. your soon-to-be-ex just lost a great amount of money to his hand, so they try to steal your money- fortunately, atsumu sure is accidentally to be there and help you out, 'dealing' with your ex and swoop his hand around your figure, comforting you and offer you a better life! but yeah, maybe he's planning this all along :/

Miya Osamu: unlike his twins, he uses his ability in the killing field. osamu is expressionless, he's killing someone without moving a single muscle on his face. oh, maybe he's heartless, he can't feel a thing even someone is slaughtered before his eyes! but wrong. osamu has himself wrapped around someone's fingers without himself knowing. your smile, your manner, your whole being. he almost feels shame that he kill people for money and you're completely standing on the other side of the world, pure and typical. this man sure will protect you from afar, he will make sure no one will ever fuck with you. he's the hitman of inarizaki after all.

Suna Rintarou: he's the center of all news and stories. this man's probably a walking yellow book, he knows everything and will use every last bit of that to inarizaki's benefit. Suna is always by Kita's side, he's also the leader's trusted interpreter. even he plays such an important role, no one really sees him in flesh except for inarizaki's members. he's always inside the headquarters, living with you. of course, he has to protect you by bringing you in, makes you become a part of his clan. the farther you are away from him, the higher risk you'll take to survive.

Oikawa Tooru: don't let the pretty face tricks you, or you may have bitten off more than you can chew. he's the leader of 'seijoh' after all. they're well-known for their ruthless and immoral deeds, there's no way the leader would be just a simple smiley, sweet guy. many gangs have been fallen and destroyed by him because they underestimate Oikawa, and overestimate themselves. there are two ways to survive ① make his gang money and/or ② become someone special in his heart. but worry not, you may conquer the second option already.

Iwaizumi Hajime: he's not the morally sane one, sorry. Imaizumi isn't a good guy in lion's den, he's part of the lion pride, and being the strongest one himself. even so, he's still less rough and more merciful when it comes to working- but still, he's in the dark grey area. you may accidentally pique his interest. fortunately, he would treat you like a princess and spoiled you rotten. but unfortunately, if you're no longer interesting, he may leave you on your own. better keep him lit up or being a partner in crime, kay?

Matsukawa Issei: the former forensic technician at a local hospital, now the pathologist of seijoh. he's working with the dead more than the living ones. his smile is always painted with a dangerous impression. mattsun may seem so laid back and friendly at times, but he's not someone you could easily screw up. he's clever, skilled, and experienced. the last person that tries to meddle with seijoh has found dead without an actual cause. you just happen to be a one-night-stand that he's really hooked. and he does not hesitate to tell you every secret seijoh has to trapped you in his crew forever. because no outsider would make it out alive knowing their secrets :D

Hanamaki Takahiro: oikawa's trusted fund, trusted friend, and trusted confidence man. he's tricking people into fake lies, gaining their trust, then their money, and run away, leaving them bankrupt. he somehow only tricks the authorities (which is a great threat for seijoh) but never the commoners. don't get me wrong, he's still as nasty and dangerous as any other seijoh member, but he just thinks that it's more worthwhile. makki may just think you're practicable so he lures you in and makes you be a part of his big scheming plan. once you do, you can't run away anymore. you're sticking with him forever, good luck.

Bokuto Koutarou: he's somehow bright and kind- you've mistaken him for a normal authority. but oh, he's one of the most dangerous fellows out there. he may come off as someone kind and enthusiastic, but trust me, he's no different from other mafia bosses. even more primal. he still kills someone by himself, with the widest, scariest grin. bokuto may seem like someone with a simple mind, but when he's falling in love, he falls deep. he might need to learn how to establish a relationship first, but this man takes you in right after he realizes you're the one anyway <3

Akaashi Keiji: calm, serene, and stoical just like a rain forest. with bokuto, he can make fukurodani bigger than any other generations before him. he's smart, composed, and knows everything. without him, this clan would be infirm and even more barbaric. he works his ass off every time this clan is in a problem as if his life depends on fukurodani's prosperity. his mind is so tired, but he pledged to the god already, he would make fukurodani go far, stopping mid-work wouldn't be appreciated. until he met you, your smile, your greeting, it makes his tired-out soul light up once more.

Kuroo Tetsurou: working under fukurodani's command, still, stand above all. he's as powerful as the boss himself. With a smile, he would talk his way until the negotiator blew it. his mouth is truly a weapon. with a word or two, he can get what fukurodani wants. he's on seijoh's 'beware on sight' list. really a schemed man. he would meet you at one of the auction that only authorities can join, he sees you beside a gross old man. look at your face, your expression; you do not want to be here. so he swoops in and talks his way until he can separate you from the said man, and abuse his power as underboss of fukurodani to keep you with him instead :)

Sakusa Kiyoomi: with his presence alone, you can tell how much power this man held. he's so young, has a bright future ahead, and yet- choose to become the darkest part of this society. he's inherited his father's legacy and name, and he runs everything like his father always did. despite being so young, he can control every part of the gang so perfectly. frankly, he wouldn't even bat an eye on you, only if his underlings did something he forbid with you, in front of everyone in the party. the punishment is one thing, but your tears that already shed make him feels something stirring inside.

#haikyuu #my writing #quiz #haikyuu quiz #haikyuu x reader #kita x reader #suna x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #matsukawa x reader #hanamaki x reader #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #kuroo x reader #sakusa x reader #mafia au #yakuza au

[kdramabrainrotstation]

i’m thinking again about how gaon didn’t move after he saw the cctv footage. how he just dropped down and cried. 

it’s difficult to imagine exactly what gaon is thinking, but probably because he’s thinking about so much at once. first and foremost, and most obvious, is that he’s realizing yohan is innocent in the case involving the fire. that all the times he went back and forth on whether yohan was actually the devil everyone painted him to be, he wasn’t, because everything he did was for elijah. 

seeing yohan literally screaming and crying and begging and unraveling at risk of gaon watching that footage was probably as confusing as it was heartbreaking. even in his most vulnerable of moments, yohan maintains a certain level of composure and control--yes, even as he’s reacting physically to gaon’s accusations/attacks--but in that moment, he broke down completely. he didn’t bother concealing the frightened uncle who didn’t want to see his niece demonized in the eyes of someone he truly cared for--gaon. and even if he didn’t think gaon would demonize her, he didn’t want him to look at her any differently.

he didn’t want anyone to know what had happened, even if it was accidental, because eventually it would reach elijah, and accidental or not, she’d realize she’s responsible for the death of her parents.

and the entirety of that disgusting group of rich people didn’t care about whether it was accidental or not. if the footage got into their hands, they would find some way to use it, without caring about the little girl whose innocent mistake could lead to years of self-loathing and guilt. if it somehow meant they’d profit, they’d use her shamelessly. 

gaon is realizing yohan was willing to accept the label of ‘the devil’ for the sake of protecting her. that his seemingly extreme choices, uncouth as they were, were made out of love and the desire to destroy the people who would never understand what love even means. 

and he’s realizing that he stepped right in and trounced on that multiple times. gaon didn’t understand what was on that footage, and it’s within reason to suspect that yohan’s concealing something much more malicious with how determined he was to keep it hidden. but he understandably feels overwhelmed with guilt because he effectively ruined yohan’s attempts to protect someone who matters more to him than life itself. that he didn’t just screw yohan over--he screwed elijah over in the process, too.

gaon loves those two so very much, and even when he was bitter and distant, he still wished them happiness. so there’s two levels of heartbreak here for him:

1. when he realizes yohan’s plans could be in ruins and elijah could be in for one hell of a potenially-life-ruining reality check

2. acknowledging the fact that, unwittingly or not, it’s his fault.

gaon legitimately hates himself for how he allowed himself to be so heavily manipulated. his mentor, who he had genuinely looked up to, had outright betrayed him on such a deep level that when yohan says “you should know by now how futile evidence can be, how easily humans are fooled” it probably comes crashing down on him at that point. 

he was ready to kill yohan because of how deeply he had been manipulated. and he allowed himself to get to that point. 

of course he’s willing to die by then. between guilt and self-loathing and loneliness and just the simple fact that he had allowed himself to get so hung up on things that he’d outright betrayed yohan more than just once, dying for him and elijah just seems the only right thing to do.

gaon had a lot to process there. of course he sat and cried. for once, he just sat and cried, rather than impulsively lashing out. going on a suicide mission after is arguably just as impulsive, but my point still stands. there was nothing gaon could do there that wouldn’t make matters worse.

#the devil judge #kim gaon #kim ga on #kang yohan #kang elijah

[yourlocalshittywriter]

The Duty of a Hero

Author’s Note: Howdy folks! I’m here with my first proper fic and I really hope that y’all like it! This will be exploring what could’ve happened if the Dabi that Aizawa fought wasn’t one of Twice’s clones. Since this is a fight, I advise the folks that are sensitive to things like that to click off and read another fic. Also, since this story does change scenery and moods a bit, I included some songs that change along with the the stories mood! This is mainly just because I like showing off my music taste and shit. Here’s Part 2!

Songs to Go Along: The Fighter by In This Moment, Acid Bubble by Alice In Chains, The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I felt extremely at peace for once in life. I felt the normal crackling of my joints silence into a warm nothingness. My aching muscles that had been torn to shreds time and time again, the ones that had been strained and stretched beyond the limits of the human body seemed to reform perfectly as they melted into the rest of my numb form. My skin, a forest of calluses, scars, stitches, and open wounds felt as if it was no longer there. I was no longer confined to the space of my body, and instead moved around as freely as water or air. I was a sort of goo, unmoving, stationary, simple, yet free. 

With a quirk as self-destructive as mine, becoming a hero was a sort of death wish. My quirk was known as “pain transfer.” Anytime I made eye contact with a person, I could activate my quirk and subject myself to pain only to have them suffer the pain of the injury for as long as I was looking at them. I could also transfer existing pain to my target. Although I may have had a wicked high pain tolerance and quick recovery period, my humanity was bound to catch up to me eventually. Quirks like mine, “villainous quirks” according to most people, should be kept hidden and the people born with them should go on to live normal lives as ordinary civilians. My parents were among these people. When I told them that I was enrolling in the hero course at UA, I was given the choice to either become a hero and be disowned, or ditch my pipe dream and stay their beloved child. I packed my things that night.

It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exam the next day. I was running on little sleep, the loss of my financial support, and the trauma that came with the realization that your parents didn’t love you anymore because you didn’t live in a way that they approved of. I had trained since my will to become a hero first arrived, a sort of passionate drive that crashed into my life so unexpectedly that the impact nearly gave me whiplash. 

I supposed that that inferno of, what? Spite? No, not spite, something deeper, hotter, and more righteous than spite. Let’s say ardor. This ardor was what drove me to take out as many robots as I could, despite the fact that my quirk was utterly useless in this situation. I took out a decent amount of robots, at least, decent enough to get into the hero course. A lady by the name of Recovery Girl healed me before I went on my way. I thought that I just had a few scrapes and bruises, but apparently I had a broken wrist. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the worst-off there, some poor kid broke both of his arms and one of his legs. 

The time between this moment and when I got into UA seems to have flown by. I came into UA, a semi-blank canvas, and now here I was, bleeding out on the campsite that I planned to spend my summer at with my classmates. Dying feels far less painful than one would assume; you really don’t even realize that you’re dying at first. It’s sort of like that feeling you get after eating a warm meal after starving for so long, sickening at first, but comforting after you grow used to it. It’s like taking a hot bath after spending a day in the snow; it burns at first, but the burning subsides into a comforting numbness. Your senses slowly dull into nothingness but your brain is left to conjure whatever image it pleases. I could have seen dead relatives, met idols, or even pictured an alternate life where my parents still loved me, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want it. Fame, fortune, admiration, acceptance, rebirth, none of it. I wanted none of it. I wanted to live. I wanted to do what I swore to do as soon as I got into UA. I wanted what I signed up for when I packed my bags and left my parents’ house at age fourteen. I wanted what I fought tooth and nail for. I wanted my ambitions and goals fulfilled.

Of course I wanted what I had worked for, that was beyond obvious, however, I also wanted the small things in life. I wanted my afternoon tea with Yaoyorozu, Sato, and Todoroki. I wanted my fashion shows with Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure. I wanted my midnight conversations with Shinsou and Tokoyami. I wanted my video game sessions with Kaminari and Sero. I wanted my morning meditation meetings with Shoji, Ojiro, and Koda. I wanted to watch pro-wrestling with Bakugou and Kirishima. I wanted to train with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. I wanted to swim with Asui. I wanted to listen to music with Jiro and Mr. Present Mic. I wanted inappropriate jokes with Ms. Midnight. I wanted to make Mr. Aizawa proud; I wanted to make myself proud. So, with so many incredible things to live for, I opened my eyes, and attempted to move.

Much to my distaste, it turns out that my relief from pain, as well as the disassociation from my body was nothing more than a thin veil that was easily permeated as I rose from near death. The forest was nothing more than a verdant blur, one that was far from easy to navigate. However, all things end eventually, so I decided to run from death and wherever I ended up would be the least of my worries. I sprinted through the disorder and dysfunction, and wound up walking in on my teacher fighting the son of a bitch who had left me to die a lonely death with only the company of insects and whatever plants were to take over my wilting corpse.

As Mr. Aizawa tackled the cremation villain, I rose from the forest, stared at the man in restraints, and activated my quirk. As the pain transferred from me to him, I felt the veil of insensibility slip over me once more. The villain howled out in agony, the very agony that he had inflicted on me only minutes before. 

“Whatever you do, don’t break your gaze Eraserhead!” I chimed as I finally straightened my form, not wanting the hero to see me in such a state, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one!” Mr. Aizawa nodded, keeping a steady gaze on his target.

“Tried to kill me off?” I snarled as I made my way towards the sadistic bastard and beloved teacher holding him in place.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the captive growled through gritted teeth, still under an amount of pain that would knock-out any average human. He looked beyond pissed that I survived, as if he took offense to the fact that I didn’t appreciate his work. I waltzed over to him, just far enough from Mr. Aizawa, but just close enough to the charred villain. 

“Surprise, I remain,” I cooed, low enough for only the villain to hear. He bared his teeth at me, looking at me as if he were some sort of rabid animal. I wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make fun of the fact that he had been taken down by a high schooler and their teacher, but I knew that it was never good to brag, because Karma would usually come to bite you in the ass for it. 

I stared at the man covered in staples, every blink I took releasing him from the effects of my quirk. Every blink motivated me to continue staring at him, to immobilize him so Mr. Aizawa could use his eye drops or blink, to buy him some time. However, I knew that this game of “pass the villain” could only go on for so long. Something had to be done. Eventually, the patchwork villain would catch both of us off guard and use his quirk, or one of his buddies would come and back him up. Mr. Aizawa and I were miles away from my peers or the rest of the pro-heroes. It was just the two of us up against this villain, and we were growing tired.

Only minutes after the realization had struck me, the villain escaped from Mr. Aizawa’s scarf when the two of us accidentally blinked at the same time. The human crematorium stood before us, and before I could use my quirk to disable him, he shot out a flurry of blue flames my way.

I dodged this attack as Mr. Aizawa ran towards the villain, yelling out the name “Dabi.” Before Mr. Aizawa was able to restrain him, Dabi grabbed the erasure hero and threw him headfirst into a brick wall, effectively knocking him out. I desperately wanted to check on my partner in battle, but I knew that I couldn’t let my guard down, because now Dabi was staring me directly in the eye.

I could attempt to charge at him, but I would be charred to bits, and even if I somehow managed to avoid his flames, I would meet the same fate as Eraserhead, knocked out and at Dabi’s mercy. I was screwed, I had no back up, my teacher was unconscious, and I was face to face with one of Japan’s most notorious criminals. I was dead meat.

That was until I devised a plan, one that would take out the cremation villain for good. One that would end his reign of terror once and for all. However, there was only one downside to this plan, and that was the fact that this plan would result in two casualties, Dabi and me. However, if I went with any other plan, Mr. Aizawa and I were to become the victims while Dabi walked off scot free. 

I was destined to become a martyr.

With that realization, I turned to my teacher who was slowly coming to his senses and gave him a gentle smile,

“Eraserhead, it has truly been a pleasure,” I announced as Dabi’s arrogant gaze turned to one of confusion. As Mr. Aizawa slowly faded back into his previously comatose state before he had time to be confused, I focused my gaze back on the blue-flamed bastard. It was time to end it, to end his rule once and for all.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed a tiny weapon that fit perfectly in my hand, locked eyes with the villain, smirked, and painlessly slit my neck. As Dabi grasped his neck and choked on his unseen blood, which was truly my blood, he fell to his knees.

As I took what I knew were my last steps, I came face to face with the first half to my murder-suicide. He glared at me, an amalgam of agony that felt nothing at all, and snarled.

“I’ll see you in hell, you cunt.”

I laughed, of all the things he could’ve chosen to be his final words, he chose to give into the childish desire to have the last word with me. As his oddly-familiar eyes drained of life, I felt the pain I had so carelessly inflicted upon myself finally hit me like a freight train.

I began to choke as I fell to my knees, similarly to how Dabi had fallen only seconds before. I knew that my time was up soon, I would succumb to my injuries and lose the thing I had fought tooth and nail for only moments before. I looked to the horizon to find the sun casting his loving gaze upon my battered body. It was as if Apollo himself was granting me a warrior’s death, like he knew I had made some kind of a righteous sacrifice that warranted a soothing transition from death to afterlife.

The sunrise was something like I had never seen before. The blues burned brighter than the flames I had defeated minutes before, the yellow pooled around my weary being like an evening gown to a death dance, and the red painted a comforting scene in the clouds, as if to distract me from my own red that painted my body and the ground around me. I smiled my final smile as I walked into the loving embrace of the sun.

My duty as a hero had been fulfilled.

#shouta aizawa #mr aizawa #eraserhead #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #dadzawa #dadzawa x reader #aizawa #aizawa fanfiction #eraserhead fanfiction #dadzawa angst #aizawa angst #mr aizawa angst #shouta aizawa angst #eraserhead angst #mha angst #my hero academia angst #bnha angst #boku no hero academia angst #mha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero academia fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #shouta aizawa fanfiction #mr aizawa fanfiction #dadzawa fanfiction

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Fire and Darkness Chapter 6

The Darkling x reader

Word Count: 1340

Summary: Time to plot

“Okay,” you said after he’d finished explaining the gist of his ‘brilliant plan’, “I’m gonna need you to run all that by me again.”

Aleksander rolled his eyes, somehow looking fond as he did so. “Where, exactly, did I lose you?”

You screwed up your face as you pretended to think. “I think it was the part where you said you’d gain the king’s favor.” Right when he was taking a breath to speak, you continued, “Or maybe it was the part where you sounded like you were honestly suggesting that you could make an army of grisha??” You kept your voice low to keep from being overheard even out here in the middle of the woods where you decided to make camp for the night, but that did nothing to disguise the incredulity in your voice. 

“Think about it,” he prompted, gesturing vaguely with the portion of jerky he held between his elegant fingers, “why should people with the sort of power that grisha control be the ones hiding?”

Easy. “Because we’re hopelessly outnumbered, Sasha.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that you alone couldn’t take down a squadron of men.”

“Not everyone is as powerful as us,” you argued. “I’ve seen other Inferni struggle to light a candle.”

“That wouldn’t be the case if they were properly trained, and that’s part of my plan.”

“And that doesn’t mean that they’d ever be able to progress as far as you seem to think they could. We don’t know how strong you can push a weak grisha to be; some just don’t have the juice. Plus, why would they want to fight for a king that’s openly persecuted them for all of their lives?”

“For safety and a salary, I don’t think it would be hard to convince them. As for their natural power, not every grisha would need be a soldier; there is work to be found in a kitchen for a weaker Inferni with a love of baking, or a squaller with a mind for performing in making smoke dance like art.”

“I thought your scheme relied on convincing the king that we would be his army.”

“At first, yes,” he admitted, “but think of what good we could do, what we could convince him to allow us to do once the otkazat’sya realize our usefulness.”

You sighed. Every part of you heavily doubted that this plan would succeed--even if it did, it would take years in the making--, but you did love that spark of hope (or was it excitement?) that danced in his eyes. “Say this plan works,” you allowed, “how would you even set it into motion?”

A mischievous little smirk played at Aleksander’s lips. “You know it as well as I that there’s never publicly been another grisha with abilities like mine. If the otkazat’sya were to capture me after seeing what I can do, they’d likely be inclined to warn the king of the new threat.”

“Meaning that they’d haul you before him and make you dance like the court fool before sentencing you to death. Aleksander, this is madness!”

His hands clasped yours, and immediately you felt that oh so familiar zing of power that sang between you whenever your skin touched his. “Not if I can convince him that I can be of use to him.”

“A man like him would never take a suggestion from a grisha.”

“He would if he believed the idea were his own. A man like that is desperate for one thing and it’s power.”

“And how would you plant that idea in his head? Are you secretly a witch, too? Able to manipulate other’s thoughts on a whim?” The idea was ridiculous. Yes, people experimented with merzost, but never had you heard of something like that taking place.

His thumbs rubbed distracting lines along the backs of your hands as he spoke, voice pitched lower, huskier than normal in a tone much like the way he’d sounded upon waking next to you in the mornings, “While merzost would be a useful tool in my arsenal, I have yet to tamper with such a thing. No, I think you’ll recall that I can be quite convincing when the occasion calls for it. This little plot would simply take a subtle hand.”

“There is nothing simple about anything that’s coming out of your mouth.”

As soon as the sentence left your lips, his were gently pressed against yours, silencing any protest for a moment. You allowed it, but you did not relax, nor did you forget your point. Your resolve did, however, crumble a bit in the face of the pleading expression he leveled you with when he pulled back slightly. “Trust me,” he begged. “This will work.”

You clenched your jaw. “And if it doesn’t? How would you even begin to escape?”

The movement that he made following that question was a swipe of his arm so lazy and graceful that you almost didn’t notice the swirls of darkness he was commanding as he did it. A loud thud prompted you to turn and notice the sapling toppling over behind you, cut in half easily by his power. “You’re not the only one that can go on the offensive, dearheart,” came his cocky reply.

In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to kiss that smirking mouth, but there was still more you had to discuss. “And what of me? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t said where I fit in this scheme of yours.” A small part of you believed that he wouldn’t simply abandon you like his silence implied, that he simply didn’t have room in these plans for the likes of you. The rest of you, the cynical part, knew from the second that you saw the darkness dance around his fingers that there was something so fundamentally different about the pair of you that you’d never truly be part of his world.

And then he had to surprise you, just like he always did. “I will be honest with you; I have never seen an Inferni like you before. Most can do much, but nothing on the scale that I feel rolling within you whenever we touch,” he squeezed your fingers for emphasis. “I want you beside me; I need you to know that.”

You could read between the lines. “But not as your equal.”

His brows furrowed. “In my eyes, you are my only equal; I have never trusted another like I have trusted you.” The sincerity of his words was clear. “I . . .” He took a deep breath. “I have never been able to so much as touch another because I’m an amplifier.”

You knew what he was, but it was still a shock to hear him admit it openly for the first time.

“I tried once.” Those grey eyes squeezed shut.

You tugged your hand away from his to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the skin there comfortingly. “I imagine it didn’t end well?”

“It was the first time I killed someone,” he admitted.

You leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “So what would you have me do?” you asked with your lips still caressing his skin.

“Once I convince him to go along with this plan, I want you by my side, but no one can know the true scale of your power.”

“You want me as a secret weapon.” You leaned back once more.

“I want you with me,” he corrected, “and to fight by my side should the occasion arise.”

Your eyes narrowed as you gazed into his. “If we do this, there can be no other,” you said, voice as serious as the grave. “I will not play the heartsick fool and watch you bed anyone to get your way and be content with your words alone.”

Suddenly, he was close enough that his breath mixed with yours. “I would never want another like I want you, but if you need my word you have it. I’m yours.”

“Then I am yours.”

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #reader insert #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #inferni au

[interact-if]

Day 2 of Pride Month interviews! You know them, you love them…. give it up for Ames!

Ames, author of Attollo and Metamorphosis

Pride Month Featured Authors

“…and it was a singular, terrible thought, which burrowed itself into your mind like an engorged maggot. This was not a man nor a monster. This was a concept, an ideology, a terrible myth, which had personified itself to stand before you now.You were, to put it simply, screwed.”

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend.

Too bad it’s never so simple.

Demo: Attollo, Metamorphosis (TBA)

Tags: cybernoir, thriller

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: Tell us a little bit about your project(s)!

Attollo is a cyber-noir horror set in a walled city off the coast of the Atlantic that’s been a victim of a nuclear disaster. After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your sibling’s apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s going on and, hopefully, be home before the weekend. Too bad it’s never so simple. Attollo is a 17+ game that deals with heavy topics and a lot of moral questioning; from cults to corrupt government, it has no shortage of monsters in the dark—both metaphorical and literal.

Metamorphosis is a crime/horror story based in the world of crime scene cleanup, where there are three simple steps: Get the call, clean the scene, and don’t ask too many questions. These are the rules that you live by under the employment of Noctua’s Crime Scene Services, and you credit them for keeping you alive.

However, after a routine house call brings forth nightmares of memories that are not your own, you find yourself pulled deeper into Noctua—a city of both monster and man—in a bid to find out the truth behind the murder of Deirdre Callow, and better yet, how her memories came to be yours. Your job mandates that you don’t dig too deep—but could this finally be the exception?

Metamorphosis is 18+ and will have explicit content; follow the last moments of a stranger to find out not only who took her life, but how this connects to the underbelly that Noctua works so hard to hide.

Q2: Why interactive fiction? What drew you to the medium?

Lmaoo, oh man. I think it really all began last summer when I first found examples of interactive fiction. I don’t even remember how I came across it, it might’ve been that I saw it mentioned in a post or I saw it as a tag on Itch.io, but at some point, last summer I began to investigate it more. I think what really drew me in was the ability for the player to control the narrative; it was like playing an old RPG, but modernized, and the fact that I could see a story unfold that was influenced by my decisions was so fascinating to me. Not to mention that IF allows so much more character depth than regular novels, in my opinion.

I’m 99% sure my first exposure to interactive fiction was through the game Crème de la Crème (a fantastic game, by the way) and I just enjoyed it so much that I went haywire for the genre. Then Temple of the Endless Night came out (another fantastic game that I’m looking forward to!), and that was really the turning point for inspiring me to give it a go. Now, almost a year later, here I am working on my own two games!

Q3: Are your characters influenced by your identity? How?

My bisexuality doesn’t have much of a major influence on the game, but I do think it contributed to the way that I view and write relationships. I figured out my sexuality around high school (I kissed a girl in high school and found out I liked it just as much as when I kissed a boy) and since then I’ve been very involved in the LGBTQ+ community of both my hometown and uni town.

I think this involvement, like being able to hear about other people’s experiences and share my own, has made me feel a lot more comfortable writing some of the characters in the game. Although Attollo and Metamorphosis both don’t focus heavily on relationships (both have murder in them, which I feel is a bit more pressing), I do keep the option for any RO’s to be romanced by anyone, regardless of gender or preference, because that’s simply what I’ve become so attuned to. In terms of side characters relationships as well, I think my involvement and my own experiences have allowed me to write far more diverse relationships than I might have, and I think that this has also allowed a more fulfilling experience for players when reading through.

I also have incorporated some struggles that I’ve faced before because of my identity into the games. For example, I and a few others have faced issues with religion due to who we are, and I incorporate this into both games. Dreamwalker, Pariah, and Sysba from Attollo all have shadows of this experience in their character origins, and Ilali and Ariston from Metamorphosis has a major point involving identity and beliefs. Both games also have undertows of ostracization and division between groups, which is also something I’ve experienced in the past. Being able to grapple these moments and control them via a narrative has been eye opening for both myself and others involved, and I’m hoping it can be a learning experience for the readers as well.

Q4: What would you like to see more of in LGBT+ fiction?

I think, now, the amount of progress in LGBTQ+ fiction is expanding at a wonderful rate. There are so many interactive fictions with options to select sexuality, select gender, select beliefs, etc. However, despite this expansion, there’s still a good deal of backlash against some aspects of LGBTQ+ fiction.

For example, as a bisexual woman who has dated men, I know there are some individuals who may not consider me a part of the LGBTQ+ because of this aspect. Not only is this incredibly disheartening, but it’s a viewpoint that I think should be educated against, and fiction is a fantastic pathway to do this. Another example I can think of is a friend of mine who identifies as asexual but is sex-neutral rather than sex-repulsed. Most people can’t believe her when she says this, and she often faces backlash for this declaration as well. This is another thing that I think that, with exposure through a medium such as fiction, can be worked on.

What I’m trying to say here is that I think LGBTQ+ fiction can be a brilliantly educational platform—if used right. Although it already teaches so much with what it has, I think having that representation of different subgroups of sexuality, of their experiences and beliefs, so people can become aware and knowledgeable of these options, is something I’d like to see more of.

Q5: What or who are some of your biggest inspirations?

Oh man, I struggled to list off inspirations because I know I have some, but as soon as someone asks me who they are my brain just goes ‘brrrrrr’ LMAO.

In terms of the games that I write and the worlds that I build, I think David Lynch and Robert Chambers are probably the two that I somehow incorporate. Attollo and Metamorphosis both have a lot of surrealist horror, which are what these two really specialized in. Shirley Jackson is also another person who inspired me a lot when it came to the writing and creation of Attollo, especially the intrapersonal relationships between the characters.

In terms of life, this is something else I really struggle to answer. I don’t really have celebrity inspirations or anything like that, but I do get inspired by my close friends and sister a lot. Seeing them go through the struggles that they face and absolutely thrive really drives me to push through my own struggles. They’re the strongest, most brilliant group of people that I know, and I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can be a part of their lives. Not only that, but we also all collectively encourage each other to push further and to chase our dreams (as cheesy as that is LMAO) and that’s something that I think is another stroke of good fortune. I struck gold when I met them, and they’re some of the biggest inspirations in my life.

Q6: What’s a super vague spoiler for your current project?

For Attollo, I’d say ‘Home is where the heart is.’ For Metamorphosis, to quote John Berendt, ‘Always stick around for one more drink.’

Q7: Lastly, what advice would you give to your readers?

What advice would I give to you all? Oh my, I’m not exactly a wise woman here, but I’ll do my best to give you something lmaooo. I think what I really want you to walk away with, from both my stories and this interview, is that if you’re passionate about something, then share it with the world. Don’t let anyone deter your passion.

I remember listening to this painter once who commented to his friend how he ‘really liked painting’, and his friend’s first response was ‘but are you good at it?’. He then compared this to the scenario of walking; would you say, ‘but are you good at it?’ to someone who said, ‘I really like walking’? No, because it simply wouldn’t make sense, and it doesn’t make sense to say that to anyone who’s doing something out of passion.

To put it simply—if you love something, then don’t let anyone take that passion from you. I began writing these stories because I’m passionate about Attollo and Metamorphosis; I love each character, each bit of lore, and I share it with you because I want you all to enjoy it as well. Am I the best writer? God, no. Does everyone like what I write? Definitely not. But will I let this stop me from writing, from enjoying what I’m doing? Never, and I want you to do the same.

Explore your passions, embrace your passions, and let what makes you happy continue to do so

#if: events #Pride Month 2021 #pride month #queer authors #queer fiction #queer creators #interactive fiction

[supercorpkid]

Mind Controlled – The Series.

Part 4 – There’s no forgiveness.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader.

Word count: 2190.

Warning: Injuries, pain, angst.

Previously on the series - part 1, part 2, part 3

Kara lands in the backyard when the first ray of the sun hits the sky. You’re still glued to her, covered in blood, sweat and tears. Your throat hurts like you’ve been screaming for hours straight. Your mind feels lazy, like for some reason you’ve lost part of your brain function. There’s blood coming out of several parts of your body, and you don’t know how any of those bruises ended up on you.

“Water, please.” You beg, when Kara goes inside the house and she takes you to the kitchen, still carrying your floppy body everywhere. You look at the kitchen wall. Bricks exposed, dust and broken parts on the floor and you gasp at the image imprinted on the wall. “I hurt you.”

“No, baby.” Kara sits you on the stool. She grabs water and pours cereal into a bowl for you. You don’t move. You can’t take your eyes from the wall. “You know I have super strength. You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I tried to.” You drink the water, so your mind gets occupied with something. What have you done? “Where’s mom? Did I hurt her too?”

“Baby.” Kara goes to you, and holds your face, gently. “I know you don’t remember anything, but you have to believe me. You didn’t hurt a single soul, ok?” You want to agree, but it’s hard because you really don’t remember if it’s true. “Eat something. You really need to shower this blood off, and you need some sleep.”

“But-” You try to argue, but Kara doesn’t want to talk anymore. So you look to the floor, finding impossible to stare at the wall and the proof you’ve acted like a monster. “Oh my God.”

“What, baby?” Kara follows your eyes to the floor.

“Mom’s vase. I broke mom’s vase.” You get up from the stool, stumbling your way to the vase. You fall on the floor, collecting one of the pieces. “She loved this.”

“My love, it’s just a vase.” Kara makes her way to where you are, crouching next to you.

“But you brought as a gift from that time you went to Japan, and she… SHE LOVES THIS!” You cry, trying to collect every piece, bleeding on the porcelain. “She will never forgive me.”

“Baby, no, no.” Kara takes the broken pieces from your hands, and picks you up. “That’s enough of self-loathing, come on.” She sits on the stool again. “Eat, please.”

You do as she told you to. It doesn’t take long until you’re clean and wrapped up in blankets and Kara’s arms, and you fall into a turbulent, but still needed sleep.

When you wake up, it’s the middle of the afternoon. You make your way to the kitchen, feeling equally shitty on the outside, but at least you can stand up now. On the inside you feel worse, like you have done things so horrible your brain is refusing to let you remember them. It sits heavy on your stomach and on your heart. You hope to Rao you haven’t done something irredeemable.

You walk in the kitchen and look around. Kara already cleaned the vase, and even though the wall is still broken, she somehow managed to make it look less like her body-shape. There’s so much food waiting for you, it looks like Kara is trying to feed a Kryptonian army.

“Hey, baby. Got some rest?” Kara comes closer, and she grabs your hands, studying them for the marks there. She looks at the marks on your wrists, and even lifts your shirt to look at the raw flesh of your ribcage, to make sure your injuries are better. They are not. “You need sunlight.”

“Momma, I’m not a sunflower.” You huff, while Kara picks you up again, taking you to the backyard, to the table there.

“Yes, you are.” She jokes and you look up to her while pouting.

“You are a sunflower.” You cross your arms, making Kara laugh.

She comes back into the house to pick up the food, and a few seconds later most of the food is in front of you.

“Where’s mom?” You ask, looking around, and since you don’t have your glasses, you can use your x-ray vision. “You said I didn’t hurt her, so why isn’t she home yet?”

“You didn’t hurt anyone, but you broke some stuff.” Kara grabs one slice of pizza, and sits next to you. Your eyes grow bigger.

“Besides her vase?” You still can’t forgive yourself for that. Kara nods. “What else?”

“Your training center.” She sighs, and your eyes are filled with tears right away. “You burnt it, actually.”

“I’m so sorry!” You cover your face with your hands, feeling embarrassed and sad. You loved going there and practicing with aunt Alex and your momma. Why the hell did you do that for?

“It wasn’t you.” Kara pulls you into a hug, and kisses your forehead. “You didn’t want to do or say any of those things. We know, baby.”

“But-” You tried to argue, still not understanding.

“Baby, you were mind controlled.” Kara breathes out her answer. “You did things you didn’t mean to. Someone else was pulling the strings. None of that was inside of you, none of that was what you once thought or wanted to do, ok?”

“Is that why I don’t remember a thing about it?” You ask, confused. Kara agrees with her head, and you look down trying to think. That’s a good thing. To know none of that was inside of you, and to know you didn’t mean to do any of that. But still, somebody used your body and your memories to hurt the ones you loved and the places you love, so that is terrifying. You look up to her again. “Someone, who?”

“Lex.” Kara lets out and you agree with your head, not wanting to hear anything else.

Ok, so you didn’t physically hurt anyone, but you know Lex (or at least his reputation), so you know that he probably found other ways to hurt people. And Lena, poor Lena, was probably his first choice for that, because he genuinely hates her.

You really want to apologize, so you can’t wait until Lena to get home for you to do so. But she doesn’t come. You wait and wait, but Lena never arrives. You probably screwed up with her big time.

Kara keeps reassuring you that you didn’t, that none of it it’s your fault, but it can’t be true. So, one day Lex mind controls you to beat up your momma, destroy important places to you, and you’re supposed to believe this has nothing to do with Lena not coming home to you?

You wake up before Kara does, and you go to the kitchen to make her breakfast, so you can somehow apologize for whatever it is that happened on the day and night before. You make her all of her favorites, and leave a note under a flower on the counter for when she wakes up.

You are the sunflower.

You don’t wait for her to wake up, though. Your heart has been desperate for hours wanting to see your mom and have her forgiveness and feel her comfort. There’s nothing more comforting in the world than Lena’s hands on your hair while you place your head on her lap.

You listen to her heartbeat, and you go to her. You land on Lena’s balcony at L Corp, looking inside to where she is sitting on the couch. You also notice other things: Her overnight bag pushed to the side, untouched food in front of her, her red eyes and puffy cheeks. It breaks your heart all the more.

“Mom.” You go to her, kneeling on the floor in front of her and placing your head on her lap. “Please, forgive me. Please.”

“Come on, baby, stand up.” Lena tries to hold your hand, but you settle on her lap, weeping mercifully.

“I don’t know what I said, or did, but I know I’ve hurt you. Please, please, forgive me.” You ask between the tears and the cracks in your voice. Lena’s hands go to your head. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“It wasn’t you.” Lena strokes your hair, gently. “It was Lex mind controlling you. Babygirl, I’m not angry. Everything is ok.”

You lift your head so you can look at her. Lena gives you a sad little smile, while cleaning the tears on your face.

“But-but you’re here.” You look around. “You’re not home, because you can’t be around me anymore.”

“What? Baby, no!” Lena holds your arms gently, making you stand and sit next to her. She gives you a comforting hug, that feels too nice to be fake. And cups your face, right after. “This has nothing to do with you. Do you hear me?”

“I don’t understand.” You furrow your brows, looking scared and lost. “You’re sleeping in your office at L Corp right after I was turned into a monster. How can this have nothing to do with me?”

“Babygirl, do you trust me?” Lena asks. Her eyes flicker, anxiously, studying your face, like she’s afraid of your answer.

“More than myself.” It’s your most truthful sentence. She gives you a soft smile.

“Then believe me when I tell you, I’m not mad at you, and I’m not here because I can’t be around you.” She strokes your cheeks with her thumbs. “I love you more than anything, and I’m very, extremely, deeply happy that my baby is back.”

“I am.” You repeat, agreeing with your head. “Then, please come back home.”

“I can’t.” She kisses your forehead, and then lets go of your face. “Not now, anyways.”

“Mom.” You try, but she shakes her head like she’s telling you to stop this conversation.

“Please, have breakfast with me?” She asks turning to the food before you, and even though you already ate, you refuse to say no and let her eat alone.

When you’re finished eating, and you see that Lena actually ate something, you decide to pick the subject back again.

“Mom, I know I was mind controlled, but, um, I need to make sure I didn’t physically hurt you or said anything too painful.” She looks at you, pointing at herself, like she’s saying that she’s not hurt. “Right. And the second part?”

“Baby, I told you. The things you said? All Lex.” She kisses your forehead again. “Stop worrying.” You wish it was that simple. That you could just simply stop worrying, but you look at her face, you see the sadness in her eyes, and you know you would do anything to make her happy again.

Your phone starts ringing and she looks at it, reading the name in it.

“Answer it, so Kara doesn’t worry about you.” She says, and you furrow your brows.

Kara. Heart beating fast. Breath stuck in her lungs.

“Hey, momma.”

“Kid, where are you? You made all this breakfast and left me here to eat alone?”

“Came to check upon mom.”

“Oh, um, right. How-How is Lena?”

Lena. Choking on her words. Dear Rao. This isn’t about you at all.

“Sleeping at her office, so not great.”

Lena raises an eyebrow at you, and you hear Kara sucking on air.

“You guys want to tell me something?” You ask on the phone while looking at Lena.

“We’ll talk when you get home.” You hear Kara’s voice, and then the dial tone. You lower your phone and keep waiting for Lena’s response.

“It has nothing to do with you.” Lena says, holding your hands, and stroking your bruises lightly. “This is between me and your momma only, ok?”

“Mom, please, come home. Whatever it is, you two need to talk.” You ask, and she shakes her head in denial.

“Please baby. Let’s not talk about it.” Even though she added the ‘please’ you know it’s not a request. You know your mom, and you can see it on her face that you better drop the subject right now, or you will make things worse.

So, it seems that none of your moms are mad at you, or sad about the things you’ve said and done. It looks like it has nothing to do with you, and it’s a fight between them.

Alex also doesn’t seem to care, when you see her in the middle of the week, she just smiles and waves at you. She doesn’t even want to listen to your apology, she just cuts you off with a “kiddo, save that apology for a time you do this with your worst intentions. This wasn’t your fault, so I don’t need no apology.”

And you wish that could go into your brain and make you forgive yourself for the things that you know, now, you’ve done. But there’s still exposed bricks on your kitchen wall, there’s still no place for you to practice, and there’s still no Lena in your house. And as the week goes on and on, and you don’t know if she’ll ever come back, there’s no forgiveness you can give to yourself.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #kara x reader #supercorp daughter #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #lena x reader #reader insert

[pigeonp0st]

Hey can you do a fic where reader is under mind control of some sort from an enemy and is forced to attack Nat and the rest of the avengers and Nat has to talk her out of it and calm her down something rlly intense and angsty pls

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #6

Words: 2,177

Warnings: Agnst

(tell me if there’s more I should add)

Notes:

I realized after I finished writing that I didn’t have Nat talk R out of it like you asked...I solved it in another way...i’m sorry!! I hope you enjoy anyways, thanks a lot for requesting (and sorry for spelling mistakes...there’s probably a lot) also sorry for this in general...I’m disappointed in it and the ending...I was sleep deprived and delirious for half of it...

———

It was supposed to be a simple mission, and a simple day. You and Nat had planned to head to the beach for the first time in a long time afterwards and everything. It was supposed to be a good day.

Good day...ha.

The sad truth is, is that things don’t always work out the way you expect them to. Sometimes things go horribly wrong.

Sometimes you get mind controlled by the ‘big bad’ and hurt the people you love most. Or maybe that stuff only happened to people like you. ‘Heroes.’

——-

You were conscious. That was the cruel agonizing part of it all. It’s that with every swing of your knife, every landed hit, every plea that fell from their lips, you knew what was happening.

You knew what was happening but could do nothing about it. Well...you could, technically, but it hurt. It hurt to fight. The pain was similar, you imagine, to what it feels like getting burned alive and then ran over eighteen times.

You didn’t think you could do it. Your will power wasn’t that strong. You would probably die trying to gain control—

It hurt. It hurt. You didn’t want to. You couldn’t, you—

Natasha. Natasha was saying; “fight it, Y/N, fight it,” and to you and to the pain that fighting the mind control caused, she may as well have been saying, “die, Y/N, die”

And yeah. Okay. For her, you will. For her you must.

Tears were running down your cheeks, it was the one thing the mind control didn’t have control of. It was...weird. Weird feeling such an immense amount of pain, such an immense amount of suffering, and being unable to show it. Unable to scream. You were silent, but your body felt loud, your head felt loud.

For a long minute you couldn’t hear them, you couldn’t even register the things you were seeing, all you knew was pain, everything outside of that was illegitimate.

Then, silence. For a brief, blissful moment before it was gone again. Nat’s arms were around you, and you were shaking, but completely still otherwise—finally, finally, you weren’t hurting them— “You’re okay,” Nat whispered, and how could that concept, in a few moments of agony, become something so foreign. Have you ever been okay before? Have you ever lived without this much hurt?

———-

“Nat,” you croaked, the words shaking almost as roughly as your body. “Natasha, kill me.”

Those three words, said with an immeasurable amount of desperation, were just as much not your own as your body was at this moment. They were said in a moment of pain.

Somehow, Natasha knew that. She knew that. She knows what you look like when you’re experiencing physical pain. It’s been seared into her mind countless times, but that doesn’t prevent her heart from aching as much as it does when you start begging.

“Natasha please, please baby, please. Somebody, please! Before it—”

And then you were screaming, and Natasha hates how it’s even worse than the begging.

Somehow you’ve managed to gain control of your vocals, but your body isn’t yours again, she realizes it when you start struggling against her arms…it’s a terrible thing to realize.

“Stop,” Nat yells, so obviously terrified and raw that half of the Avengers freeze where they’re circling you. “Stop fighting it, it’s okay, it’s okay.” She holds you as tightly as she can, with her eyes screwed shut. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And god, she hates the way it sounds like a goodbye too, but she just knows that even if you could register her voice right now, you aren’t going to listen.

You’re going to keep fighting to protect her and the others, because it’s what you’ve always done.

So Natasha takes a deep breath, in and out, and tries to think about her options. She tries to think about her options with you struggling and trying to reach for your knife, and the Avengers circled around her with nothing but ashen expressions that speak of nightmares to come, and she doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.

There’s no safe way for her to knock you out for a long period of time, not ones that won’t cause long term problems afterwards, but she doesn’t need any because suddenly your body stops struggling, and stops moving, and you’re slumped unconscious in her arms.

It’s a great relief for everyone until Natasha lifts her hand from your pulse, and says, shockingly and terrifyingly devoid of emotion; “I think she’s going into shock.”

——

Everything is a blur to Natasha after that. She recalls yelling, lights, arriving at the hospital, a countdown of; one, two, three, and then she’s sitting in a seat next to your hospital bed wondering when everything went so wrong.

——

All Natasha hears when she closes her eyes is you screaming in agony at the top of her lungs, and all she feels is the phantom touch of your cold ashen skin against her hands.

You’re okay now, Natasha reminds herself. You’re going to be okay, but there’s something deeply traumatizing and everlasting about the moments where you’re sure everything won’t be—the moments you’re almost sure the love of your life won’t be.

Hearing someone you love beg you to kill them, seeing the person you love most in so much agony, it’s...scarring...but Natasha will be strong. She has to be, because being weak hurts too much, but more importantly; you need her to be.

As traumatizing as the experience was for her, she knows that yours was just as bad—if not worse. You were strong for her, so she’ll be for you.

Like protecting her to you seemed like your only option, even while you were hurting so much because of it, it’s Natasha’s only option too.

So she’ll keep it all together, until you’re back to normal and she doesn’t have to anymore.

——-

Natasha startles when you wake up. She physically startles, because the first thing you do is start sobbing, sobbing hard enough to make Natasha concerned that you’ll start hyperventilating.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, up from her seat in a flash to be by your side, “is he still mind controlling you? Are you still hurting?”

You aren’t looking at her, Natasha realizes with a large amount of grief. You won’t look at her, but you’re shaking your head no to her questions, and she supposes that perhaps you are okay—physically.

She wants more than that for you, so she sighs, heavily and sadly— because she can’t protect you from this anymore than she was able to protect you from the mind control—and wraps her arms around your distraught form.

“It’s okay,” Nat mumbles, and then winces and corrects herself because it’s so clearly not. “It will be okay.”

That she is sure of, but you aren’t.

“Natasha,” you force out (Natasha tries not to remember the way you said her name yesterday), “You’re covered in- you’re covered in bruises and cuts...baby, i’m so sorry.”

Your voice cracks on sorry, and Natasha closes her eyes to prevent her own tears from falling. “It wasn’t you,” she whispers fiercely, “i’m not mad at you. Of course i’m not.”

“You should be.”

You pull away from her then. Natasha feels the loss in her heart, she’s sure.

All she wants to do is hold you in her arms and never let go, but with the amount of unjustified shame you’re feeling she doubts you’ll let her.

“Your arm,” you stutter, “did it need stitches?”

Natasha won’t lie to you, so she says nothing—instead she tries to meet your haunted eyes. It’s a useless attempt.

She knows what you’re remembering, and she hates it. “The cut on my neck...it wasn’t that deep. It shouldn’t even scar.”

“I didn’t ask you about the cut on your neck, Natasha.”

Natasha tenses where she’s standing, caught off guard by the loathing in your voice until she realizes that it’s not directed at her, but at yourself.

Your eyes finally, finally, meet Natasha’s. They’re tear brimmed, scared, and unbelievably angry. “I’m going to kill him,” you rasp brokenly, “Natasha, i’m going to kill him.”

——-

Nat says nothing. She just continues to stare back at you.

“He had no right, Natasha, he had no right to do that to me,” your face is crumbling now, anger turning back into devastation in an instant. “Nat, why—why was it me? I—god, i’m so angry, i’m so—i’m so sorry. I’m sorry, i’m sorry. God...what did I do?”

Natasha still says nothing, why isn’t she saying anything? You want to yell at her, you want her to yell at you, you want—you want.

“Is Clint...is he okay?” You ask wobbly.

You remember vividly the moment you stabbed him, and the betrayal on his face, the betrayal on everyone’s faces until they realized you weren’t in control of your own body.

“He’s okay,” Natasha says simply. Then, “the man who did what he did to you...Wanda is handling it. She’s able to block out his mind control.”

“Okay.”

“Can I hold you?”

“What?”

Natasha shifts where she stands, looking down. She’s never looked more uncertain. “You didn’t seem to want me close before...I wasn’t sure…”

Oh.

“Nat,” you whisper, heartbroken, “I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust I’m me.”

Natasha tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans down to kiss your temple. You want nothing more than for her to get away from you. You don’t want to hurt her ever again. You can’t. “Oh baby,” she laughs a sad sort of laugh, “you’ve been handcuffed.”

And that, for whatever reason, starts another wave of unreleased tears, but you're laughing now too...if only at the insanity of your situation.

You feel restricted by the handcuffs, trapped in the way you were during the mind control, but you also feel safe. Safe from doing harm, so you allow her, between breaths, to join you on the hospital bed.

She lets out a relieved breath when you do, both because she’s allowed to hold you, and because you’re laughing...yeah it might me a manic sort of laugh, but it’s something.

Something is better than nothing. It’s a start.

——

“Natasha, I can tie my own fucking shoes.”

Nat looks up at you from where she’s crouched by your feet, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Then why’d you ask me to do it?”

“W-What? No I didn’t.” Mind controlled. You were mind controlled again. Fuck—

“Yeah you did,” Natasha reminds gently, “while you were eating your disgusting jello.”

Oh. Yeah.

You release a shaky breath, laughing quietly all the while, because wow. Wow. You’re losing your mind. “I totally remembered that...they just slipped something into my jello…”

Natasha watches you carefully for a few moments before rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. “Tie your own shoes.”

“Asshole,” you mutter bitterly under your breath. Natasha pretends not to hear you and simply presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” she confesses quietly. Natasha’s been saying as much over and over again since you first awoke.

“Now I feel like the asshole. Just go get the discharge papers.”

Finally, Natasha laughs.

——-

You’re healing still, emotionally, the Avengers and Natasha are very aware of that. They’ve been as gentle as they can possibly be with you since you left the hospital a couple of weeks ago, but now—now it’s time for an intervention.

So naturally, you press the big red emergency meeting button Steve hides in his room and force everyone to meet in the living room.

“I’m not sad anymore,” You announce to them all when Wanda asks why the fuck she was woken up for.

The grumbling immediately quiets.

“Well,” you pause, considering, “I...am. Deep down. I’m tryna work through it but it’s kinda hard now that I'm forgetting a lot of what happened.”

Natasha sits up at that, alarmed. “You’re forgetting?”

You wave your hand dismissively. “My mind is blocking it out. I’m traumatized...but pretty okay otherwise.” The others don’t look convinced, so with an annoyed groan you relent. “I’m thinking about seeing Steve’s therapist. You guys should too.”

A chorus of protest instantly comes forward, not to your surprise...but Wanda...Wanda does surprise you.

“I am, too.”

Then Natasha, “I...was actually considering it myself.”

Well then.

“I’m also considering making my own sitcom,” Wanda continues, resting her head in her hand. “What do you guys think?”

“Stick to therapy, Wanda. Stick to therapy.”

At that, everyone comes forward in agreement.

You’re sure, in that moment, that with these people you’ll be okay.

#natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel x y/n #marvel x female reader #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #female reader #black widow imagine #black widow x y/n #black widow #black widow x you #black widow x reader #imagine

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Private and Public

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader Word count: 1.4k Summary: People don’t usually realize that you’re in a relationship since you weren’t one for PDA with your boyfriend. It wasn’t that you didn’t like to display affection, it was more the Public part that made you nervous. But one night at a party that might change. Warning: None Requested by Anon: malia x reader or stiles x reader. The reader is like a ('baby gay' for malia) (first relationship for stiles) and is shy/a bit nervous about doing things simple things like hugging or holding hands and they find it cute but also comfort the reader say stuff like its okay, we can take it slow, and kinda just doing things like hugging more often to get them use to it. idk sorry feel free to to change it up and do what you want. Anyway have a good day~ 🦊,🐺or🙃. A/N: so I realize I haven’t uploaded anything at all in over a week, but life’s a bitch so I’m not gonna make empty promises of me starting to upload regularly again. I guess thing’s will be uploaded when they’ll be uploaded. I’m really sorry for all those who look forward to scheduele stuff, but I hope you understand. Lot’s of love, Brina

The red plastic cup in your hand was still filled up to the brim, the only change was the temperature that it had taken on during the hour that you had nursed it without even attempting to take a sip of the gross beer inside. Honestly, you weren‘t all too sure why exactly you had agreed to tag along to the party, neither were you sure why you were even asked to. When Scott had heard of the party a bunch of juniors and seniors had planned to have on a clearing in the woods, he knew it was a recipe for disaster. The pack had tried its best to stop the party from happening altogether, but to no avail, so instead they decided that they‘d come along to keep an eye out for potential danger. Every single pack-member in the appropriate age-group - aka still in school - had shown up, even Brett and Theo had joined in, which meant that any potential danger would have to be careful. Still, you couldn‘t quite understand why you‘d been asked to come along since you were quote-on-quote ‘just a human‘ and were usually kept away from any immediate danger the second it seemed to be in your vicinity. Not today though, today you were basically dragged with them to attend the party no matter if you wanted to be there or not and Lydia had forced you to dress in something other than the nice PJ’s that you had been chilling in earlier that day. “Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” a boy asked as he joined your side. You inspected him for a few seconds until the cogs in your head finally clicked and you realized that he was in your english lit. class. “Mhm, you’re-” you bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you tried your best to recall what his name was, “James?” “Close, it’s Jim,” the boy chuckled and smiled at you. You recognized that smile and even though you had to admit that you were a bit naive, you knew that the boy wasn’t talking to you just for the sake of getting to know you as a friend. Not quite sure what you could do about it, you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “This party is pretty boring, what?” “Well, it’s a party in the woods in the middle of the week so I doubt there was much possibility for this to be the party of the century,” you shrugged and looked around at all the drunk people who’d definitely regret drinking so much the next morning. “You know,” Jim started and you had a bad feeling you knew where this was going, “We could get out of here, My parents aren’t home, sooo-” he scratched the back of his head and you just couldn’t help but sigh. “Listen Jim, you’re really nice, really, but I’m in a relationship.” “Oh, Ohh, okay, sorry I didn’t mean to...uhm… I just- I never saw you with anyone, I thought you were- I- Uhm- I’ll leave,” he rambled before taking a big sip of the beer he was holding and walking away with his ears tinted red-ish. You gave another sigh and shook your head slightly as you thought his words over. It was true, now that you thought about it, he had no real way of knowing that you weren’t single anymore and even though usually you didn’t mind that thought, suddenly it was somewhat bothering you. You and Stiles had been dating each other for just about a month now, but besides the other pack members and your families no one really knew about it since you weren’t really into PDA. Well, it wasn’t quite that, if you were honest. It was just that this was your first relationship and you were incredibly nervous at everything it included. It wasn’t that you felt uncomfortable with Stiles, it was the exact opposite actually, being with him was the time you felt most at ease, but you were just very anxious that you’d accidentally screw up. Of course, you also feared that your nervousness would annoy him and he’d decide that you were not worth it, but that fear was absolutely rootless since he was the most supportive boyfriend you could imagine. Oftentimes you could see the longing in his eyes when he was looking at you sitting besides him at Lunch and you knew that he just wanted to put his arm around you and give you a kiss, but held himself back for you sake. He also kept on telling you that it was okay and that you didn’t need to do something uncomfortable just to please him, that he was happy with all the cuddles and kisses he got in private and that he was more than ready to take it slow. What he did to help you otherwise was that he tried to get you used to a little bit of physical contact: hand holding in the car, small hugs throughout the day, cute little texts in class and the such. Suddenly, as you were thinking about it, you felt the strong urge to find Stiles and hug him no matter how many people were around and if you didn’t still have the completely full cup in your hand you’d think you could’ve been a little bit tipsy. You looked through the crowd searching for any sign of your boyfriend and the first thing that caught you eyes was the blond locks of a certain scarf-wearing-werewolf glimpsing through a group of junior girls that were giggling about something. With a rush of determination surging through you, you made your way through the masses of teenagers - somehow managing to hand your cup to someone on the way - and ended up only a few feet away from Isaac without having been accidentally punched or stumbling. It was like a scene in a movie when you came closer and recognized a few other pack members standing around Issac and they acted like a curtain that opened up as you got closer and revealed the most incredible boy in the world. If you’d been an outstander and had seen you stop in your tracks with a goofy, love-sick smile on your lips and your eyes almost watering up, you would’ve thought that you were watching a cheap romance movie, but you weren’t an outsider- no, you were you and you were looking at your boyfriend feeling full of love and admiration. Starting to walk again, you were sure to earn a few confused glances as you slid through between Isaac and Allison and more or less launched yourself at Stiles, your arms quickly interlocking around his waist and you face pressed into his chest. Stiles was obviously surprised at the sudden attack as he stumbled a few steps backwards before stabilizing and reciprocating the hug. You were very happy that your pack was so accommodating as they just shared some confused glances before continuing the conversation like nothing happened. “Are you okay?” Stiles leaned down and whispered in your ear, obviously worried by the sudden need for affection. “Mhm,” you nodded and basket in his hug for a few seconds more before looking up at him and smiling, “I just love you a lot and I missed you.” “I drove you here, we saw each other half an hour ago,” Stiles chuckled, but his cheeky smile showed that he was endeared by your sudden clinginess. “That was too long,” you just sighed and wished he would lean down to kiss you, but then your state of adrenalin and bluntness left you and your nervousness returned. Slowly you retracted your arms and went to stand beside him when you saw that the other pack members were looking at you with smiles on their lips. Blood rushed towards your face and your ears and you suddenly felt more embarrassed than you ever thought you would, even though you didn’t regret it. “You want me to bring you home? It’s getting pretty late,” Stiles asked silently but you could read between the lines and thankfully nodded, knowing that you’d probably ask him to come with you inside when you came to your house and cuddle. Because after all, Stiles was the best boyfriend you could ever imagine and if you couldn’t hug him all that much in public, then you’d hug the living health out of him in private.

#Teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #pack x reader #mccall pack #mccall!pack #fluff #cute #pda

[genshin-impact-writings]

Request for your special event-

Character: Albedo

prompt: 'I love you, my little prince"

Song: Once upon a dream: Lana Del Rey

If it is possible, Can the reader be the one to say the prompt and is a fatui harbinger [or someone that the knights are just wary off] ?? (I am a sucker for forbidden love but the reader is just "screw u, Imma date them anyways) I apologize if this is too specific.

Thank You in advance and Congrats on your milestone!! <3

First of all, thank you very much for your request. I love this song and Albedo, so it really was the perfect combination. Also, this turned out a lot longer than I originally planned, and I really hope you like what I came up with. Have a good day/night and take care! <3

Once upon a dream – Albedo x gn!Fatui!reader

I know you, I’ve walked with you once upon a dream

I know you, the look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

Mondstadt was beautiful at night. Although most of the shops were already closed, the streets were still filled with people, sitting in front of the taverns where they enjoyed a few drinks and the balmy breeze that blew gently through the alleyways. Everything was peaceful and somehow quite idyllic, and you stopped in your track to take in all the impressions that rained down on you.

In your life, you had barely experienced moments like this. As a member of the Fatui, you were always on the road, traveling wherever your Archon sent you and fulfilling every mission she gave you. It was a restless life, dangerous too, but you had never been one to complain, especially since you had always dreamed about exploring Teyvat, seeing other cities and meeting new people along the way. Without the Fatui, you probably would still be stuck in Snezhnaya where you would be doing the same things every day, always wondering if this was all life had in store for you.

Needless to say that you still felt incredibly honored that the Tsaritsa had chosen you, alongside with a few other Fatui Diplomats, to accompany Signora, one of the Eleven Harbingers, on her trip to Mondstadt. So far, the trip had been everything but fun, every day filled with work and duties, including spying on the Knights of Favonius that were understandably weary of every Fatui who set foot in their city. Most of them kept their eyes on you twenty-four-seven.

Even now, during your rare free time, you could feel the guards watching you as you made your way back to the market district. A couple of people were standing outside of Cat’s Tail, laughing and joking around, just like they usually did. By now, you recognized most of them since you came by here every day. It was one of the few spots in Mondstadt where nobody payed attention to you because they were too busy with minding their own business to wonder about a Fatui Diplomat passing by, eyeing them curiously before walking on.

Your destination was the upper square, the one with the pretty fountain, right in front of Good Hunter. You had enjoyed a few meals there over the past few days (people where rightfully proud of the restaurant) but at this late hour, the shop was already closed, promotional signs neatly stored away.

You sat down on one of the benches near the fountain and crossed your legs as you let your eyes wander. During the day, this square was a popular meeting spot but now, there were only a few people here. The perfect opportunity to see him again.

During the few meetings with the Knights of Favonius you had attended, he had stayed in the background, only speaking when someone addressed him directly and even then, his answers had been quite brief. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that he preferred to keep to himself, hence why he almost exclusively came here long after dark to inspect the Crafting Bench for any damages and to have a quick conversation with Timaeus, the alchemist who supervised the Crafting Bench throughout the day.

Usually, you kept your distance, admiring him from afar, but today, you had promised yourself to finally introduce yourself to him. Not only because it was rude to stare at someone you barely knew but also because a considerable part of you really wanted to find out who the Chief Alchemist truly was.

You didn’t have to wait long. Propping up your head on your hand, you watched him as he talked to Timaeus. His bright teal eyes almost seemed to glow in the warm light of the street lamps, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It really should be illegal to be that pretty.

About twenty minutes later, Timaeus made his farewells to the Chief Alchemist, leaving him with a bunch of notes. It took you a brief moment to realize that this was the moment you had waited for but then, you jumped to your feet and took a deep breath before walking over to him.

“Excuse me,” you said, your heart starting to beat frantically as he looked at you, a slightly confused expression on his face. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you continued and cleared your throat when you realized how squeaky your voice was sounding. “But I think you might have dropped this.”

You put out your hand, showing him the tiny gemstone you had bought at With wind comes glory a few hours ago. The stone’s color perfectly matched his eyes, the same bright teal that you saw in your dreams sometimes. You were absolutely sure that nobody else on this earth had eyes so pretty that you even thought about them in your sleep.

“No, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he replied softly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s not mine.”

“Oh,” you mumbled. Well, that didn’t go as planned, you thought and let out a quiet sigh. So, what else could you say to him?

Usually, you had a quick tongue and always managed to figure out a topic to talk about but right now, you felt like every statement that came to your mind was either incredibly stupid or completely irrelevant. Think, you urged yourself, think!

But he had already lost interest in you. His attention was back on the clipboard Timaeus had handed him earlier, his brows slightly furrowed as he studied the notes from his assistant.

“So, um- can I perhaps ask you a few things about alchemy?” you asked when the silence between the two of you got uncomfortable. He didn’t look up from his notes but at least, he nodded which you took as a good sign.

“I mean, not now,” you added, painfully aware that you didn’t even know enough about alchemy to ask him a simple question. It definitely would have been better to prepare for this conversation but now it was too late to turn back. “I just – I wanted to make sure that you’re okay with helping me before I deluge you with my questions.”

Finally, he looked up, his gaze meeting yours for a brief second. “Ah, it’s you. I saw you at the meetings. You’re one of the Fatui Diplomats,” he said but unlike others, he didn’t seem to judge you. He simply stated a fact, nothing more. If anything, he sounded a bit curious.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you replied, in an almost desperate attempt to keep the conversation going because a part of you really didn’t want him to leave. When you saw the small smile that flashed over his face, you felt like your heart stopped for a second.

“I’m Albedo.”

But if I know you, I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once, the way you did

Once upon a dream.

That’s when it all had started. Whenever you weren’t busy with your mission or other tasks Signora assigned you to, you spent every minute with Albedo, listening to his musings about alchemy and the secrets of the world he desperately wanted to disclose. You didn’t understand half of the things he was talking about but you didn’t mind. It was enough for you to just listen to him, watching how his eyes lit up whenever he made progress in his research, and every time he sheepishly thanked you for keeping him company, you found yourself falling for him a bit more.

Of course, you knew right from the beginning that it was stupid to develop feelings for him, given the fact that you had to leave Mondstadt at some point to return back to Snezhnaya – but there was nothing you could do to stop it. Everything about Albedo was adorable. He was a gentle soul, curious and kind and so beautiful that it still took your breath away every time you look at him. And you wanted to be with him, against all reason. There was just something about him that seemed so familiar, so wonderfully familiar that you simply didn’t have the power to resist him.

And before you had even fully realized what was happening, you were already head over heels in love with him.

You didn’t tell him, at first. After all, he was still the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favionius and you were still a member of the Fatui, someone the knights didn’t trust at all, and you didn’t want to spoil the precious time you could spend together.

But eventually, you didn’t want to keep it a secret any longer. You wanted him to know how much he really meant to you. It had been an awkward confession, your face hot from embarrassment when he didn’t respond immediately but as soon as he softly asked if it would be alright to kiss you, you fell in love with him all over again.

I know you, I’ve walked with you once upon a dream

I know you, the look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem

But, just as all good things, your relationship with Albedo came to an end about three months later when new orders from Snezhnaya arrived, recalling you and the other remaining Fatui Diplomats back to your home country immediately. Signora and the vast majority of her team had already left Mondstadt quite a while ago, and it would be a lie if you said that it hadn’t raised your hopes up that you were allowed to stay for a little longer.

Now, all your hopes were shattered to pieces. You could feel tears burning in your eyes as you stared down at the letter in your hand, reading the orders over and over again as you tried to understand that it was really over this time. There was no way you could convince your superior or even the Tsaritsa to prolong your deployment in Mondstadt.

How were you supposed to tell Albedo about this? How were you supposed to say Goodbye to him?

You should have stayed away from him right from the start. Then, you would have been the only one who got his heart broken by your new orders but no, you had decided to drag Albedo into this mess, and now you were forced to leave him.

You buried your face in your hands. This was slowly becoming just one big nightmare, one that threatened the wonderful, silly dream you had about your future. A future you wanted to share with Albedo. But of course, you couldn’t, not as long as you were a Fatui. And you couldn’t leave them either because you had sworn an oath to the Tsaritsa; you had sworn to be true to her and Snezhnaya, no matter what happened, and to break this oath had never been an option for you. Heck, you probably wouldn’t even survive betraying your Archon like that, let alone get the happy ending you wished for.

So, no matter how you put it, you had no other choice than to return to Snezhnaya.

*

You couldn’t sleep, contrary to Albedo who was sound asleep next to you, all snuggled up to you and completely unaware of the emotional rollercoaster you had been experiencing for the past few days. You had waited for the perfect moment to tell him that you had to leave but of course, it never came. There simply was no perfect moment to tell the person you loved that you couldn’t stay with them any longer, that you had no idea when you’d be able to see each other again. If you would ever see each other again.

And with that in mind, you had decided that it was for the best to just leave. Albedo would be heartbroken, yes, but he would be angry, too. And maybe that anger would be enough to make him move on from you. But for now, you wanted to enjoy the time the two of you had still left. The Fatui delegation would leave Mondstadt in the early morning, as agreed with the Acting Grandmaster, so you still had another two, maybe three hours you could spend by Albedo’s side.

You turned your head to press a soft kiss to Albedo’s cheek. He mumbled something in his sleep, and when you heard your name, your heart dropped. He was dreaming about you.

He was dreaming about you and you were about to leave him without even saying Goodbye.

*

Dawn came and with it the moment you had feared for the past few days. But you had made your decision, and it was too late to change your mind.

Carefully, you tried to pull away from Albedo who was still clinging to you, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, almost as if he had sensed that this would be the last night you would spend together. You felt terrible as you pushed his arm aside, freeing yourself from his hug, although every part of you screamed to stay here with him.

But you had to leave. And until now, everything went just as you had planned.

Until you accidentally knocked the small lamp on the bedside table over when you gathered the few belongings you hadn’t packed up yet.

Albedo stirred awake, his eyes fluttering open, confusion clouding his eyes.

“(Y/N)?” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep. “Where are you going?”

You bit your bottom lip, trying to fight back the urge to tell him the truth, and leaned back down to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Nowhere,” you reassured him softly. “You’re just dreaming, my love. Go back to sleep.”

Your fingertips caressed his skin, gently tracing the outlines of his face as you watched him slowly drifting off to sleep again.

“I love you, my little prince,” you whispered and pressed a soft kiss to his lips one last time before you turned away and quietly left the room. Please forgive me.

The walk to the town gate gave you enough time to regain your composure. By the time you joined the others, you had carefully locked away your emotions, putting on that blank expression that didn’t show how much it hurt you to leave this city.

Lyudmila, one of the other Diplomats, gave you a brief smile. “Looks like we’re all here,” she said. “Let’s go home. We’ve spent way too much time here already.”

You nodded, although you couldn’t help but flinch at the word home. Snezhnaya would never be your home again, not when Albedo couldn’t be there with you.

Maybe one day, you thought to yourself and granted yourself one more look at Mondstadt and the town walls that almost seemed to glow in the warm light of the rising sun, we will meet again.

But if I know you, I know what you'll do You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.

#albedo x reader #albedo genshin x reader #albedo genshin imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #15 days of songfics #genshin impact angst

[justmochi]

A Free Woman

pairing :: eden (feat. blackpink, teddy, jimin)

word count :: 1.5k

summary :: eden finally works up the courage to break up with jimin

warnings :: eden being a boss ass bitch

time :: march 31, 2019 - april 1, 2019

March 31, 2019

Eden sat in the leather chair, her legs pulled into her chest as she had read the message she typed out for the millionth time. The empty studio was her hiding place for times like these. It was quiet, so much equipment to potentially mess with, but most of all, the place where she could truly embrace herself without judgement.

She was at war with herself. She always knew that Jimin was bad for her. All the things that she wanted in a partner, Jimin didn’t have. She still was drawn to him. She still yearned for his touch and attention. She never planned for it to ever come to this point. Her self-respect was down the drain. She lost sight of herself. Her true self.

The girl spent the last two days trying to type out a message to Jimin. Even after reading each one over and over, none of them seemed fit to send to Jimin. Some messages sounded needier than others. Somehow she would find a flaw in every single paragraph she typed out. She even almost said screw it and considered staying with Jimin, not wanting to break up with him. But even she knew that she couldn’t do that to herself anymore.

Eden sighed to herself, turning her phone off and setting it down on the table. She hugged her legs while her cheek rested against her knee. The room was dim with the blue LED lights faintly brightening the studio. The soundproof walls were so tempting, she almost wanted to let out the biggest scream. A scream that would shake others to their very core. A scream that would cause people to worry whether she was being attacked or not. It was all very tempting.

Hearing a knock on the door, she used the table to spin in her chair, revealing Teddy who was standing in the hallway. He had the typical hoodie, looking as comfortable as ever.

“You doing okay?” He asked her, pulling another chair and slouching back against it.

“I could be better.” She shrugged her shoulders, her legs falling to the floor as she folded her arms.

“Did you send it yet?” The members were happy enough to hear that she was planning on breaking up with Jimin. They were destined to hound her if they knew she was hesitating on even sending the message.

Her texts were dry ever since he kicked her out of his apartment that day. Jimin kept talking to her as if everything was normal, as if he did nothing wrong and Eden was the enemy in the entire situation. A pep talk and crying on her sister's lap sealed the deal for her. The girls didn’t particularly like Jimin because Eden couldn’t keep her mouth shut and would vent about their problems. They tried their best to be a moral support system, but they all really wanted Eden to be happy and to break up with the asshole.

“No, I don’t know what to say.” She picked her phone up, unlocking and handing it to him. He read it in just a few seconds.

“May I offer my criticism?” He looked up from her phone, waiting for her to nod before he scooted closer to her to let her see what he was doing.

“This, it all has to go.” He held the delete button until her entire message was gone.

“What are you doing writing him paragraphs? You don’t owe him anything. He doesn’t even deserve an explanation.”

Her head dropped to her lap, sighing while her finger glazed across her freshly done nails.  “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Should I write something out for you?” He offered his best advice, trying to get her to look back up at him.

“Go for it.” Her elbow rested on the arm of the chair, holding her head in place with her hand.

She heard the keys click as he typed fiercely. He was seriously good at everything. He handed her phone back, her eyes adjusting to the bright screen as she read his text.

“That’s it?” She was quite shocked to see the five word sentence.

“That’s it. Simple but straight to the point. I guarantee he will feel shitty, and realize how dumb he is for taking you for granted.”

His reasoning was enough to convince her that it should be the final message. Now she just needed to work up the courage to send it.

Eden had her arm laying over Rosé, her head resting on her tummy as the two watched a show. Her members knew all about what went on. The girl brushed her fingers through Eden’s hair.

“Do you feel better?” She spoke low, trying to not startle her.

“A little.”

“Did you do it yet?” The members were so delighted to hear Eden was planning to break up with Jimin. They were just curious when she was going to do it.

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” She mumbled, finding a cold spot in the bed to rest her feet in.

“Eden,” She pinched her shoulder, anticipating when they could actually celebrate Eden as a single woman. “You have to do it soon. You don’t need him bothering you anymore.”

“I promise, I’ll do it in the morning.” She reassured Rosé, letting out a sigh before shutting her eyes.

“I am holding you to it.”

“I know.”

April 1, 2019

Just as she promised, she stood over the bathroom sink working up the courage to finally send the text. Her eyes were still tired and she didn’t even expect Jimin to be awake at this time in the morning.

She slapped her face with her hands, waking herself up but also telling herself to stop being a coward. She turned towards the shower, turning the knob and adjusting the temperature. She took a deep breath, clenching her jaw before finally pressing the send button.

I can’t date you anymore.

She instantly saw the message delivered and grew worried. She also felt a wave of relief. Like the baggage on her bag was finally released and she could breathe again.

She turned her phone off and hopped into the shower, rinsing off the guilt and cleansing herself of the person she told herself she would never become. She hated how much he influenced her, how much he changed her. It affected her emotional and mental stability, but now she could finally say she was free.

Once she was dressed and looking fresh, she walked out to the living room where the girls were eating their breakfast. Eden had her wet hair in a towel, instantly grabbing their attention as she entered the room.

“Guess what ladies,” She put a hand on her hip, quickly snatching the towel off her head and flipping her wet hair around. The girls’ raised their eyebrows as their cereal missed their mouths. “I did it.”

Rosé and Jennie shot right up, squealing and running to hug her. Eden became flustered, finally realizing how much this meant to them as her friend. Lisa and Jisoo soon followed, wrapping Eden in a group hug. Jisoo smiled, patting her head.

“I’m so proud of you.” The oldest congratulated her, brushing her fingers through her hair. Everyone wanted Eden to break up with Jimin. Jennie and Jisoo played a big part in helping her build up the courage and realizing how toxic he was for her. Confiding in Seokmin one night was truly the final push she needed to finally bring herself to break up with him. If Eden didn’t have this strong of a support system, she would still be dating him, losing sight of herself and ultimately becoming another person than who she really was. He corrupted her enough, and there was no way the people around her were gonna let him destroy her.

Hours passed before she checked her phone again, only to find two from Jimin.

lmao~

nice one babe~

Eden turned the phone towards Rosé, who she was cuddled up with on the couch. She let out an audible gasp, rolling her eyes and scoffing. “What a jerk.”

Eden relayed the message to the rest of the girls. They were quite shocked, expecting Jimin to lash out on her the second he got the message.

“Eunhye,” Jisoo butted in, biting her lip and sighing, “It’s April Fool Day.”

The room went quiet as Eden’s jaw hung to the floor. The holiday was nothing special to her, she didn’t even play pranks or get joked to on this day. The girls purse their lips, scanning the girl's face. Eden only shrugged her shoulders, letting out a hum. “Oh well, it’s fine.”

Lisa snorted, slapping her hand over her mouth.

“He would think you were joking. Just wait, he will see.” Jennie nodded before crossing her legs and laying back against the couch.

“He’s gonna be in for a very rude awakening.” Rosé giggled, giving Eden a high five as the two shared smiles. Her best friend was so happy that she was free from the restrictions that they all called Jimin.

#mochikocnet #aeskocnet #deluxekocnet #justmochi: eden #chaeden #eunsoo #eunnie #lisen #5th member of blackpink #blackpink 5th member #blackpink oc #fake blackpink member #fake kpop addition #fake kpop idol #fake kpop soloist #oc!kpop #oc!soloist #oc!idol #idol!oc #idol!au #idol!addition

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Would you please give me headcanons about how shigadabi caught feeling for each other? Loosely sticking to canon if you can🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

That "loosely sticking to canon" is a little tricky for me. Why? Because in the canon I see them as two guys that find comfort in knowing that someone understands them and they are free to do as they please because the other won't stop them.

This is gonna be a long one and I apologize for it, but I love them so much. I can't help it.

Still, here are my headcanons 😈:

In the beginning, Dabi is never around and when he is, he's being mean and annoying in the background. Shigaraki doesn't tolerate him, but he respects him. Since they met, Shigaraki knew that boy wouldn't stop to achive what he wanted, just like himself.

There was a moment between them, the seed of something. Before the summer camp attack, Shigaraki called Dabi apart so he could set the nomu to respond to his voice and his voice only. You can imagine Shigaraki walking up to him, telling him to follow and Dabi being a piece of trash about it.

Shigaraki them tells him why he's needed out loud and turns around, already walking. The rest of the League complains or comments in the background but Dabi leaves them without a word. He's too busy thinking Tomura must be really stupid to trust him when he barely knows him. Or well he could— He could be smart enough to see through him?

With the years, Dabi has learned to be careful of those guys. He doesn't trust people, no exceptions. He prefers to think Tomura is an idiot.

Being honest, that was the minute Dabi decided he would try to read Tomura. He was he new boss, Dabi was only only being careful. Nothing more.

Let's keep the imaging.

Tomura sits and he unceremoniously calls the nomu, gives him some commands and tells Dabi to use his voice to give him the same commands. They do it a couple of times until Shigaraki is satisfied and Dabi is free to go.

For someone else watching, it was cold and professional. For them, it was kinda weird. There was a little tension than neither of them was acknowledging and there was a quietness, a silence Tomura was used to. It was weird because it felt like they were alone, because they were used to being alone, but somehow they were being alone together— with the freaking nomu. It felt like visiting the vet. Dabi didn't like it.

Time goes by. Things happen.

They have a silent agreement that marks Dabi as one of Shigaraki's commander. He's a special one tho, because apparently he can do whatever the he he wants. He says he's gonna recruit? Tomura approves it with a simple nod and that's it.

Since we have only seen Twice's apartment, I'm assuming here that the rest of the League lived in the bar with Kurogiri and Tomura. Which makes sense because they wouldn't have anywhere else to go.

The only times Shigaraki and Dabi are together is when Dabi occasionally return to their base for whatever reasons. It is loud and crowded so they don't get the chance to interact that much. What they can do is observe the other.

None of them is ashamed of doing it. They stare and stare back. The League plays it off because that's probably two idiots trying to assert dominance or some shit.

It's stupid and they only find out about useless things. What they like to drink, how they walk or react to certain things, what throws them off, what makes them happy... Things you'd know about your classmate.

Their interactions change after what happened in Kamino and the night Magne died.

Dabi was taken by surprise when he saw Tomura walking in. He was calm, collected, even more honest than usual. When he took the hand off his face, the whole room held their breath.

His features were delicate, even beneath all the scars and dry skin. He's eyes were gentle, which was scarier than his maniac look. They held blood and the promise of danger, but not to them. Dabi brushed it off later.

Dabi keeps being his sarcastic self. Shigaraki doesn't react that much. Their barriers are tight closed as ever. Except when...

Well, those nights. The ones they don't talk about. The ones when Dabi is drunk and Tomura is way too sleep deprived and they find themselves insulting the other in hushes. They're normally out of the League's hearing range, alone in some abandoned part of their actual base.

Catching feelings for the other is a good expression. It's like they're catching a cold or something viral by accident. You just have to be in the wrong place at the right time to get yourself infected.

Their minds are blurry and their hearts are feeling raw the first time they interact like that. It's like Dabi is nothing but a young man trying to find his way back home from some bar because he was done with his working week. Or maybe Tomura is a tired student who's been dealing with a lot of stress and it's feeling bare and naked with his hair floating around with the wind.

They look at each other like they always do. Like trying to solve a mystery. Like trying to put together a puzzle. Like trying to decipher a code you shouldn't be worried about, but it distracts you from the world so why not.

Tomura is the one who notices Dabi is bleeding. He points it out. Dabi shrugs and then Tomura just shakes his head and starts walking, Dabi following him, recognizing that face from being a silent command.

For the rest of the night, Dabi teaches Shigaraki how to fix his staples and Shigaraki does so, taking the hand away from his face for better care.

They wonder about the other. How can Tomura know so much about fighting when it looked like he always lived alone? Why was Dabi drinking something stronger than usual? Where his scars always there? Had he patched someone else before? Was Dabi used to other people patching him?

They go to sleep. When they wake up, the only think in their heads is this can't happen again. They got distracted. Distraction means getting softer. That's a no no for them.

Except it happens again. And again. Until it starts happening when they're sober and they know they're screwed. They shouldn't be feeling safe enough with each other to don't feel the need to say something. They shouldn't be on the non-verbal stage. They shouldn't be taking turns what the other sleep to keep guard. Shigaraki shouldn't know where Dabi is most of the time, in case he wants to go and visit him in secret. The League doesn't know where they go most of the time, anyway.

If you're looking for a phrase to prove they have caught feelings for the other, you have no luck. They don't trust words, because most words are lies. But they can't lie when they look into each other's eyes

And against all odds, it changes nothing. No one suspects a thing, no one can sees them. Of course, what is there to see? Nothing at all. Just a king and his commander. Or maybe, just two guys sharing what's not there.

Because there's nothing there. If Dabi craves Tomura's fingers on his back, it's only because he's hurt again. If Tomura longs for waking up to the sound of Dabi's smoking by the window, it's because that means he doesn't have to sleep for a least a while now.

Dabi looks at Tomura across the room and thinks It's like catching a cold. It's gonna go away. A cold won't distract him from his revenge. When the time comes, he won't think about Tomura. And he's right. It's just a cold. Tomura is happy is just a cold too.

Ah, there's a problem, one we know but they forgot. It is too easy to catch a cold. They come back with the season, when we're vulnerable and cold. And if you catch enough colds and you don't cure them properly, it can become something worst. More permanent. More deadly.

For what they want, I hope they're being careful. Sure, they're fine right now, healthy, they talk and laugh and plan and murder. Do they sleep well at night? When they're hearts are freezing and they are too drunk or too sleep deprived, do they still go to each other? When their brains won't stop working, would the miss those nights? Would they wonder? Would they wish? We see only the surface, but beyond their walls...

Are they badly sick? Oh. Are they... Maybe.... No, of course not, but... When no one sees them, when no one talks, when they don't have to be something else, when they can just exists... When the remember their voices echoing in that room, that time, first time alone, just a nomu and their stares...

And sometimes, they'd look into each other's eyes just to make sure they still know how to do it. And they go crazy, becuase they must be doing somethinf wrong.

It is not an I won't see you die under my watch, so don't die until I'm back and it is not an I'll be taking care of myself too, so don't complain and it is not an prove it, come back safe and sound, come back to me.

That's not what they say. That's not what it means.

And still.

Red eyes.

Blue eyes.

And silence.

#Shan's asks #Shigadabi #Dabishiga #Shigadabi headcanons #Dabishiga headcanons #Shigaraki Tomura #Dabi #Tomura #Shigaraki #Dabi headcanons #Shigaraki headcanons #Tomura headcanons #League of villains #LoV #LoV headcanons #League of villains headcanons #Mha #My hero academia #Mha headcanons #Shan's mha headcanons #Bnha #Boku No Hero Academia #Bnha headcanons #Shan's bnha headcanons #Touya Todoroki #Tenko Shimura #Shigaraki x Dabi #Tomura x Dabi #Dabi x Shigaraki #Dabi x tomura