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sickficideas · 9 days

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it's alright, it's okay || akutagawa siblings sickfic

ao3! 11.1k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings!

16 May, 2012, 09:31am - Yokohama

"You look awful, Ryuunosuke."

She has a feeling that he's heard that a few times today, because all he does is sigh. She's waiting for him to protest that comment, he always does, but she has enough evidence to prove her point. He's unusually pale and she can tell he's dizzy just by looking at him. That red around his eyes is always either a sign that he's beyond exhausted, or he's starting a fever.

"Good morning, Gin," he opts for instead, despite sounding entirely annoyed. Gin decides she's not going to play this game and bother with pleasantries. She reaches up to lay a hand against his forehead, and before he swats it away, she gets enough proof to make her case.

"You're warm," she tells him.

"I'm fine. I haven't slept," he offers as an explanation as he starts to walk off towards the entrance to the subway station. That might be entirely true, but she thinks he doesn't realize that wouldn't necessarily cause him to look like this, with a fever on top of that.

Gin caught a glimpse of Higuchi when Ryuunosuke was first walking over, and she turns to wave her off, and the latter gives a meek wave in return. She probably had to deal with Ryuunosuke's attitude all morning. She feels sorry for her.

"Thank you," she mouths behind her hand, and she catches a smile from Higuchi before she turns around again.

"I hope you were nice to Higuchi," Gin says when she catches up to him. She notices the container in his hand. "What do you have there?"

"Tea," he answers simply.

"What kind?" she asks.

"Ginger," he says.

"Who made it?"

"Higuchi."

That tells her all she needs to know. Higuchi wouldn't make him something like that for no reason, she must be at least a little aware that he's ill, or not feeling well, at the very least.

"That was nice of her," Gin says. Higuchi is always that nice, no matter the occasion, whether he wants it or not.

"Mhm," he mumbles. "You're talkative today."

Gin huffs out of her nose. He’s not saying enough, but she won’t bother arguing with him.

She takes Ryuunosuke's arm as they walk down. It's painfully obvious how dizzy he is and she really doesn't need him cracking his head open on the subway stairs, that's entirely inconvenient. "You should have taken the elevator."

"It's out of service," he tells her.

The line to their apartment is always quick to bring them a train, and this time she's especially thankful for it. She leads Ryuunosuke to one of the only open seats. He, of course, stares at her for a few moments, expecting her to take it, but she grabs his shoulder to push him into sitting down, leaving him without any choice.

She takes a bit of a defensive position in front of him as she takes hold of the pole right next to the seat they've found. It's just a few stops, thankfully.

Ryuunosuke looks tense. She's not entirely sure what happened. She knows he and Higuchi had to meet with Mori, but she doesn't know why, when, anything, and she doubts Ryuunosuke will tell her - but clearly, whatever happened there is still heavy on his mind. But at least, now, he's closed his eyes.

She wants to think of something that will help him relax, but with how unwell he's looking, she has a feeling she'll need to think of ways to prevent a worsening illness instead.

The train arrives and Gin quickly kneels down to take his arm to lead him through the doors, they're always so quick. This time, Gin really has to make an effort to keep him upright once they're on the platform, and she's really worried he's about to pass out. She stood him up too quickly.

"I'm okay," he assures her with a shake of his head in some attempt to get himself together, but she keeps their arms locked regardless. She knows at least that this station has a working elevator that they will be taking advantage of.

The elevator doors let them out on the street level, and they begin the short walk back to their apartment.

"Did your job go well?"

"It did," Gin tells him with a nod. It's not uncommon for things to go smoothly - she, Tachihara and Hirotsu make a good team. "Tachihara is out for four days, by the way."

"Is he now," he says, after a few faint coughs. Gin nods. Tachihara never elaborates on what he leaves for, but it’s at least once a month that he’s gone for something. "I suppose…the timing is good."

Gin has a feeling that means Ryuunosuke knows he won't be going back to work tomorrow, either.

There's a cat in front of their apartment that Gin always likes to stop and pet. It's a little thing that she looks forward to. Ryuunosuke doesn't usually engage. He pretends he's not a fan of cats, but she thinks he secretly is. Regardless of his feelings on the cat on any particular day, though, he usually waits for Gin. But today, he's unhooked Gin's arm and he's already headed up to their apartment without a word to her.

Gin stays for a while, regardless, just to give Ryuunosuke some silence for a few minutes. She's concerned about him being sick. It's never just a little cold or a headache, it's always a whole ordeal for him. He can never catch a break from it.

"What should I do with him, hm?" Gin asks the cat, who of course, gives her no good answer. He just purrs and presses against her hand for more pets, but before long, he's moved on to his spot on his doorstep in the sun.

Once she's back inside, she realizes this is where she's going to have to really take care of her brother. This is where he'll let his guard down enough for her to help him. She hangs her coat and keys by the door, takes off her shoes, and peers into the kitchen.

She sees him almost doubled over the sink. She sighs. That was inevitable, really. He's lucky he even made it this far, that willpower of his is something else, but as she gets closer, she realizes he hasn't actually thrown up. He's still breathing heavy like he's nauseous.

"You okay?" she asks gently as she walks over. Of course, he doesn't look okay at all. The arms holding him up over the sink might collapse on him at any moment, but even so, he nods. He could be on the brink of death and still be in denial.

"Okay, let's take this off," Gin says as she tugs on his coat. He doesn't look thrilled by the idea, but he's gotten better about letting his guard down in these kinds of situations over the last few months. He views himself as completely defenseless without long coats like this, and often he'll refuse to take it off even when they're at home. She turns him around and unzips it, pulling his arms out of the sleeves, and getting another feel at just how warm he is. She's worried he's going to turn into jello if he's standing any longer.

She takes his wrist to lead him to the bathroom, so she can at least wash his face for him. He often grumbles in protest about how he doesn't see the point in such things, but she knows how much it helps her after a long day, and insists on it anyway. She sits him down on the toilet lid and he rubs his eyes at the harsh bathroom lights, which she turns off for him, instead opting for the natural light coming in through the windows.

"I'll be right back. I'll get you a change of clothes."

And she does just that, finding a t-shirt and a light pair of sweatpants for him to wear. He's not going to like the t-shirt, but Gin won't let him walk around in a sweater with a fever, which she's sure he has.

She's done this countless times, ever since the first time he came home to their apartment with injuries so bad he couldn't brush his own hair. He knows by now that if she brings him to the bathroom, that she's going to help him whether or not he wants her to.

"Do you need help changing? I was thinking I could check if we have any medicine," Gin says when she places his change of clothes on the counter.

"I think I can do it," he says quietly, gingerly reaching for the clothes. He looks and sounds so tired. Gin won't keep him up, but she wants to at least help him wash up before he gets to bed.

Gin isn't sure they have much of anything, but she's concerned about his nausea. She needs to think of something to relieve him of that so that he can rest comfortably.

But of course, before she can start a proper search for medicine she hears Ryuunosuke fall. She scrambles to get back to the bathroom, already horrified that he's hit his head and he's out cold - but thankfully, he's still conscious. He's managed to get the sweatpants on but the shirt seems to have been the problem. He's leaned against the cabinet with a hand pressed against his head and his shirt only halfway on.

"Did you faint?" she asks him gently, deciding to not force him back up. The way he moves his head doesn't tell her if it's a yes or a no, but it's obvious enough to her. It must have had something to do with holding his arms over his head. She helps pull his shirt down all the way, since it seems he got most of the way there on his own.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, hardly audible.

"Stop. Don't be sorry, Ryuu," she tells him gently. The last thing she wants is for him to feel guilty. "How long have you been feeling bad for?"

"Not long," he murmurs, coughing into his hand, "it hit me this morning."

Gin doesn't think he's being dishonest, because she's seen this happen before. It always seems to go downhill incredibly quickly for him with his poor immune system.

She does her best to be quick, but she has a feeling that he's gotten used to letting this help him wind down. She's careful with washing his face, but she thinks the cool washcloth is soothing with the fever he's running. He probably needs a shower at some point, but she would rather he rest first, especially after he fainted.

She takes a moment to brush out his hair, too. She's thankful that in recent months it doesn't seem to be falling out as much, in fact, there's not much hair caught in the brush at all. She hopes that means he's taking better care of himself, but it's hard to say. It could be a coincidence.

She takes his hand to help him up. He has to lean on the counter for support for a few seconds before he takes any steps further. He's still very dizzy.

“I’m fine,” he tells her, even though she doesn’t say anything to him. He makes it clear that he doesn’t want any help, and Gin knows not to push his limits, so she doesn’t offer it.

"Please go lie down, I'll go get us something to eat," Gin insists.

"You don't need to do that," he murmurs with a sigh. He doesn’t move from where he’s standing.

Gin sighs back at him. "When did you eat last?"

Of course, Ryuunosuke won't answer that.

"It's been over twenty-four hours, I'm guessing. You need to eat, Ryuunosuke,” she says. They’re six years out of the slums and Ryuunosuke is still this stubborn when it comes to food.

"I don't think I'll be able to."

She's always stressed about his weight. He hides it well underneath his clothes, well enough for Gin to forget, most of the time. Gin feels guilty for it. She can see it now, his collarbone past the t-shirt, the way he’s standing making the bony surface of his shoulders a little more prominent.

"Then I need you to take some medicine for your nausea. I'm picking up food whether you can eat it now or not,” she tells him. She won’t push his limits most of the time, but she will when it comes to things like this.

He doesn’t say anything to her, his expression just falls a little like he’s silently accepting her response. That’s good enough for her, he thinks. He takes his body off of the counter and keeps a hand on the wall, tracing it as he takes himself to his bedroom, thankfully with no incident.

Gin decides she’s just going to place an order for something online. She doesn’t want to leave Ryuunosuke alone while he’s feeling like this, and she knows he’s afraid of being left alone with his guard lowered like this - so she finds her phone and puts in an order for something she knows will arrive soon.

She straightens up the bathroom for a few minutes after washing her own face and brushing out her hair. She needs a shower, too. There’s a lot of things she’d like to get done, actually, but she won’t distract herself with things that will take her attention away from Ryuunosuke right now.

She closes the door behind her and peers into the bedroom, hoping he’s at least laying down, by now - but he looks like he’s just sat up, and now he knows she’s there.

"Gin," Ryuunosuke stammers with a hand over his mouth, "the - the trash bin, please -"

By the time Gin can get the bin to him, he's just dry heaving between already painful sounding coughs. Gin can't imagine he has anything in his stomach to bring up, considering how long it's been since he's eaten - and he did this earlier too.

That makes it clear enough how unbearably nauseous he must be. He's far too good at hiding it.

After several minutes, he lies back down with a shaky sigh, not looking relieved in the slightest. He looks like he's in pain, his eyebrows knitted together. His body is frail and weak, he can hardly handle the exertion it takes to even attempt to vomit. Gin can't realistically give him any comfort, which is one of the worst parts of seeing him like this.

“I’ll leave this here, okay?” Gin says, setting the bin down on the floor beside the bed. “Will you take some medicine for the nausea?”

He just nods, sinking back into the pillows underneath him. Gin has always thought he has far too many of them, but if it’s comfortable for him, that’s all that matters to her.

She goes back to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water for him to take with the medicine. She’s a little worried about if he’ll be able to keep it down or not with how nauseous he is right now, but he has a better chance at feeling better taking this than he does just suffering through it.

He takes it without any complaints. Gin busies herself with a few quiet tasks in the apartment - straightening things up, things to keep her hands busy while she decides what to do. She would really like to get a doctor to him now, but she thinks she’ll have a hard time getting him to agree to that. Now, if it has to wait until tomorrow, should she call one in or take him to one? He doesn’t like having people in their apartment for any reason, understandably, but with how he feels right now, any sort of car ride or train ride to a doctor would make him feel significantly worse.

She should probably call Higuchi too, seeing as how the two of them are planned for another meeting tomorrow, but she may put that off to avoid worrying Higuchi for a longer period of time.

She peeks back into his room after half an hour or so, hoping he’s asleep. He's curled into his side, a pillow tucked between his arms. She's thankful that he's finally decided to lie down and stay there, but he looks miserable.

"Can I call a doctor over for you?" Gin asks quietly.

"No," Ryuunosuke murmurs. He’s completely avoiding eye contact, likely very aware that Gin doesn’t like that answer. "I'll be fine tomorrow."

Gin knows he's lying, but she'll respect the boundary he's setting, at least for now. As long as he’s not doing worse.

"If you're not doing better by tomorrow, I'm calling a doctor. Okay?"

He doesn't object to that. He shuts his eyes, and Gin decides to close the door and let him sleep for a while.

17 May, 2012 05:27am

Ryuunosuke sleeps through the day and into the night, which is troubling enough on its own. He’s never been known to sleep for long periods of time at all, not when they were younger and living in the slums, and still not after all of their years outside of the slums. Gin managed to find time to shower, order food in, and not any of her movements woke him. Not even when she laid clothes over his hot forehead, or when she slipped a thermometer under his tingue to take his temperature.

It’s a quarter until six the next morning when she takes his temperature again, and it’s steadily climbing. It stayed at around a hundred even throughout the day, and now as it beeps, the numbers ready one hundred and one point six. She bites her lip, brushing his hair out of his face.

He looks exhausted, but worse than normal. His gaunt face is only dimly illuminated by the lamp in the corner of the room, but even its warm light can’t cover up his horribly pale skin.. She doesn’t think he would have the will or energy to move even if he were awake. His brows are twisted together like he’s still uncomfortable, in pain. Even while he’s sleeping.

“Ryuunosuke…even after all this time, you still look the same when you’re sick,” she says quietly to herself, brushing back his hair, remembering his thirteen-year-old face illuminated by the candle she managed to find at the time. At least they’re safe here. At least she can properly take care of him, now.

Now is probably a good time to call Higuchi.

She steps into the bathroom and shuts the door, to help conceal the sound just in case it were to somehow wake him, as she pulls up Higuchi’s number.

"Gin, is everything okay?" Higuchi stammers almost immediately, not leaving room for a ring. Gin realized she hasn't exactly thought of what to say.

"Hi, miss Higuchi," Gin says a little nervously. She doesn't want to alarm Higuchi, but this isn't exactly a good situation, either. "I just wanted to let you know my brother needs to stay home today…maybe a few days. He's not well."

"I knew he was coming down with something…" she grumbles, sounding frustrated with herself. Gin wasn't want her to put any blame on herself, she's positive Ryuunosuke did his best to hide his condition from her. She hears shifting around, the sound of keys. "I can call a doctor over. Or if you think it's a better idea, I can come pick you two up to take him to the clinic at headquarters, but -"

"I think he'll be okay. It's not too serious," she assures. She’s not quite sure how truthful she’s being, but she didn’t have any plans to involve Higuchi. "I just don't want him to overwork himself."

The shifting stops. “Okay…if you’re sure. But, Gin, please call me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Gin almost feels herself tearing up at the sentiment. She’s thankful for Higuchi’s kindness and willingness to help, and she’ll certainly take her up on it if she needs it, but for now, she thinks everything is okay.

They end their conversation with a few pleasantries, and Gin steps out into the kitchen.

She hears the cat’s little paws on their front door, and she opens the cabinet at the front door to access her secret stash of cat food for the little thing. There’s a few others on the street that feed the cat, but she thinks that lately, he has begun to favorite her. Ryuunosuke has made remarks here and there that they can’t keep a cat, they’re not home enough, but she thinks there’s no harm in this.

She fills up a little bowl with some kibble and sets it outside the front door for him. It’s started to rain a bit, the cat’s fur is damp. He purs and meows at her, rubbing his head against her hand as she sets it down. She scratches behind his ear as he eats. He really is cute. She wants to give him a name, but she can’t think of anything. She can already hear her brother telling her not to name stray animals, that it creates attachment, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

"Gin…?"

It's so quiet in the apartment that Gin can hear her brother's weak, raspy voice despite being at the front door. She pats the cat and tells it to be careful before she shuts the door and heads for Ryuunosuke’s bedroom.

She doesn't think that he'll be able to hear her, so she doesn't bother responding. When he’s sick like this with fevers at those numbers, he's so out of it that he has trouble understanding her even when she's right next to him, so she makes great haste in taking a new washcloth from the kitchen to replace the one that's still resting on his forehead.

She's careful when she opens the door just like she always is, but especially now, to avoid scaring him.

His eyes follow her the moment she can see him, but that's all. He doesn't have any energy to move, not even lift his head.

She kneels down beside him on the futon to press the new washcloth against his forehead. She lets a hand linger on his cheek to get an idea if his fever has gotten any worse, and she thinks it may have.

"What's the time…?" he croaks. He’s still so exhausted, it almost looks like he’s fighting to stay awake. She can see it in his eyes.

"I think it's around six in the morning," Gin tells him. She's not entirely sure. She's been up all night looking after him, but she doesn't find herself tired at all. She's used to it. "I contacted Higuchi earlier, she knows you won't make it in today."

"Higuchi…"

"She was very concerned for you," Gin tells him.

Ryuunosuke is quiet from that point forward.

It's raining hard outside. It puts her on edge. It always has, it's a feeling from the slums that she's never been able to shake off, and Ryuunosuke's the same way. But she's worried right now that his fever is bad enough to make that feeling subside. He's so out of it that he almost seems relaxed, which isn't right at all.

His shirt is damp from sweat, she’s noticed. She needs to shower him later when he’s a bit more awake, maybe with some lukewarm water to help bring his fever down a little, but he’s not awake enough to even sit up, right now.

She holds up his head, gently, to slide out the pillow under his head and replace it with a dry one, a cooler one that’s bound to feel nicer. She sees him visibly relax at the feeling as his head sinks back into the pillow.

"I had a strange dream," he says quietly, after a few minutes of silence. His voice is hoarse, it gets quieter with each word to save his throat from the trouble.

"What kind?" she asks him.

"All of our money turned into chocolate."

Gin isn't sure if he's being serious or not, but she remembers this is her brother - he doesn't joke, not ever. She chuckles, she can’t help it.

"Chocolate? Like back in the slums?" she asks.

"It seems so,” he says. She almost sees his lip twitch into a smile, but in the end, without the energy to commit.

She laughs, this time.

"That won't be very useful to us now," Ryuunosuke says.

"It would've been gold back then," she tells him. She’s still plagued with a strange sense of relief whenever she sees chocolate of any kind. They would trade it for anything they needed back then. It was especially useful to them when he was sick - they could trade it for medicine, blankets, clean water.

She brushes through his hair again.

"I remember the time you were really sick, before we lost everyone," she says quietly. They didn’t have anything for him back then, not until she took he situation into her own hands. "They were all so afraid you weren't going to make it through the night."

She sees him tense up.

“It’s only thanks to you that I survived,” he says quietly.

Gin chews her lip.

28 February, 2006, 16:57 - Suribachi City

"How's your shoulder?"

"It's fine."

Gin knows he's lying, but right now, arguing with him isn't worth it at all. Ever since they were forced out of their last place, Ryuunosuke has been on edge. She's afraid even speaking too loudly to him will scare him, and with the loose control he has on his ability, that could be a dangerous situation for her.

"You two should go to sleep," he tells her, and Sayaka meekly standing behind her.

"I can stay up," Gin tells him, but the look he shoots her says he's not willing to accept that answer.

Right now, it's just the three of them. This is how things often end up when Ryuunosuke isn't fit enough to leave their shelter. She's pretty sure that he's broken bones in his knee and shoulder, but he's used his ability to force everything back into place and now he's simply pretending he's not in any pain. Gin can see it, though. He’s trying really, really hard to hold it together.

“I’m not - I’m not gonna argue with you, Gin,” he huffs, clearly frustrated with her non-compliance.

“And I’m not gonna argue either. I’ll stay up. You need to rest, Ryuu,” she says. “I know you’re in pain.”

She knows that he hates her talking like that in front of Sayaka.

Ryuunosuke turns his head away from her, but something else is on his mind, now. She watches his breaths start to pick up the pace. He waves her off and stumbles out of the shelter, I’ll be right back, he tells her silently, but Gin won’t let him run off. She gives Sayaka a look to make sure she doesn’t follow them, and runs after Ryuunosuke.

He didn’t get far at all. He’s just outside of the shelter in the little makeshift alley, sitting on the dirt ground and leaning against the unstable wall.

“What's wrong?” she asks him as she kneels down beside him. She knows he's nauseous, she can see it in the way he holds himself up, in the expression on his face, the way he’s breathing. But he won't say anything. He never does.

He brings a hand over his mouth like he's trying to stop himself from throwing up.

Vomiting is probably the worst thing for them to do here. Food is so hard to come by, especially as they’re just coming out of winter now, and throwing it up is so much worse than just losing the food. The dehydration that follows is the worst part. They don’t have clean water, they don’t have anything at all.

“It’s okay, Ryuunosuke,” she tells him quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. She bites her lip. If he really is sick, they’ll figure it out. They have to.

She rubs his shoulder and he leans off to the side to choke up what little he’s had in his stomach to begin with. He has a hard time breathing through it, he’s really trying - but she thinks between the nausea and the pain from his injuries, this is all too much. He groans and lowers his head, trying to keep quiet but ultimately losing the battle.

She’s trying to think of a game plan. Rin and Shinya should be back the quickest, the left first this morning, maybe she can leave in their place to see what she can find for him. They won’t have brought back any medicine, they don’t have any idea that Ryuunosuke is sick - and she can’t ask them to turn around, if they’ve been out scavenging for hours.

She takes his arm once she thinks he’s finishing throwing up to lead him back into their shelter. She’ll get him to rest for a while this way, at the very least - he can sleep on the couch cushions they managed to find a few weeks ago.

Sayaka doesn’t say anything when they walk back in - she knows not to, but she can already tell what’s going on, Gin can see it in all of the concern in her eyes.

"Lay down, okay?"

She's shocked that he listens to her, it's telling enough of how he's really feeling. He curls up on the cushions with a little pained noise, his uninjured arm wrapped around his middle.

“It’s just from the pain,” he says quietly, but she knows he’s lying. She’s angry with herself that she didn’t realize he was sick.

Gin isn’t sure what to make of this. She lays a hand on his cheek and realizes he’s warm, so he’s been sick all this time. Getting sick from eating something bad is so much easier to deal with, but he must have an actual illness.

What else can she do? They can't take him to a doctor. Medicine is impossible to come by. They’ve already used everything they could trade in to replace everything they lost at their last shelter. They have absolutely nothing for him.

"What do we do?" Sayaka asks meekly from behind Gin.

“We’ll just see if some rest will do him some good,” Gin assures her with a nod. She’s hoping that will help, she’s praying for it, but she has a feeling they won’t be so lucky.

Shinya and Rin make it back an hour or so later, unfortunately with nothing more than a water bottle - but that’s certainly better than anything else they’ve been finding.

“Gin? Is Akutagawa…?” Shinya starts, eyes darting to Ryuunosuke’s curled up half-asleep form in the corner of the room. Both of them saw him as soon as they got back, but held off on saying anything.

She just nods, she doesn’t need to say much else. Shinya and Rin both exchange nervous glances. Ryuunosuke was sick for nearly two weeks last time, unable to do much other than sit up - and they need him more than anyone else, a fact everyone is painfully aware of. Ryuunosuke’s very aware of this too - that’s why he’s so hesitant to rest at all. He’s the reason all of them are alive. His ability is invaluable.

“He’ll be okay. He has to be,” Rin says with as assuring smile. Gin appreciates the sentiment, it helps her a tiny bit, but she can’t avoid her concern.

A few hours later, most of their group has returned, and Ryuunsouke is doing much, much worse.

He’s thrown up two more times since the first, and Gin’s holding a bin out for him now, Takehiro helping him keep steady because he doesn’t have the fight in him to even hold himself up. He doesn’t even have anything left in his stomach - they tried to get him to drink water a few hours ago, but it just came right back up.

Not to mention the fever. His skin is so hot that it burns to the touch. He’s covered in sweat, his hair is damp from it, but he’s freezing. She watches him shiver under the blankets, even with the fire going, and there’s no telling how bad that fever really is. Gin’s stomach twists, he’s gotten so much worse in a matter of hours. He’s still in so much pain, too.

She watches him blink away tears as he lays back down. It’s humiliating for him. All of these kids look up to him, he’s their pillar, their protector - and now he can’t even sit up on his own. She knows he would rather suffer alone than with any help.

“Gin?” Yuji starts quietly, just after Ryuunosuke has calmed down enough to rest his eyes. Yuji is abnormally quiet, like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear. The rest of them are curled around the fire pit on the other side of the room.

“Yeah?” she says.

“Do you remember…a few months ago, when Akutagawa told us that the Sheep owe him for something?” Yuji starts quietly.

Gin’s eyes widen.

She’d forgotten about that.

She doesn’t remember what he did for them, but she’s not sure he ever told them - but she distinctly remembers that they do in fact owe him something. And right now would be the perfect time to cash in on that and get him some help. The two of them only know this because he's told them that if they need something important, that's the route to go.

This is important. He may not consider it so, but she’s not sure he would survive this kind of illness this time around.

Gin stands up and walks toward the fire pit, where the rest of the group’s wide eyes stare with concern.

“I’m going to get help. Please take care of him while I’m gone,” she says quietly. At least, while he’s this sick, he can’t try to stop her.

“By yourself, Gin?” Rin asks nervously. “I’ll go with you.”

“I won’t be long. I know where I’m going,” she says. Rin’s already been out all day, she can't ask her to waste her energy to simply accompany her. “If I’m not back in two hours, come look for me.”

“Please be careful,” Sayaka squeaks.

Gin nods. She has to make it back for her brother, after all.

She takes her pocket knife out of her bag and stuffs it in her pocket, looking over Ryuunosuke and decides she has to go without saying anything to him - she can’t worry him, not with how awful he’s feeling already. She’ll be back before he can even realize shes left.

She scurries out, only with her knife and a plan to hunt down a sheep.

28 February, 2006, 19:49

Gin spots one after only half an hour of sneaking around their territory. Long, brushed out pink hair. She’s walking inside the building, but Gin won’t let her get that far. She’s cornered this girl before, and she knows that of she gets her, she can get who she wants to come out.

Within seconds, Gin has her against the wall with a knife up to her throat, close enough for her to feel how sharp it is, but not drawing any blood.

Her wild eyes stare straight into Gin’s. She seems to recognize that screaming right away may be a death sentence for her, so she stays quiet for a moment.

“Where is he? Your leader?” Gin growls.

The girl somehow manages to push Gin back long enough to shout something without a knife against her neck. “Shirase!”

“Answer me. Where is he? Where can I find him?” Gin snaps at her, digging the knife again, feeling her hand shake. Realistically, she has no solid way to defend herself, and no reason for them not to kill her - but she doesn’t live in a world where she can politely ask for help.She has to demand it, or else, her brother will continue to suffer.

“Get offa her, bitch!”

Gin whips around fast enough to catch the new boy off guard, presumably Shirase, and she holds the knife up close enough to his throat to draw blood. He's frozen in fear for just a second, caught off guard by Gin’s quick movements, but that’s all she has. He pushes her to the ground.

“Where is he?” she stammers, standing up on her shaking legs. The girl runs behind Shirase and grabs his arm, pointing straight at Gin.

“Kill her! She’s crazy, she tried to slit my throat! I didn’t even do anything!” she shouts, and Gin swallows back her fear. She wants to shut this girl up. If she wanted to slit her throat, she would have.

“The hell do you want with him, huh?” Shirase growls, sticking an arm out over the girl like he expects Gin to go after her again. “I’m not gonna let you near him if you think you can just go around holding knives to our throats, you psycho!”

Gin, for some reason, has enough courage in that second to try to go after him again, but he kicks the knife out of her hand and pushes her to the ground, pressing the heel of his boot into her chest.

“What did I just say, dammit!” he yells, stomping once against her ribcage. She cries out, fairly certain he’s cracked one of her ribs with that action. What they hell was she thinking? Why did she think this was going to be easy, that she could simply get help for her sick brother? She can’t hold her own against these people.

“Get off her, Shirase!”

Another voice shouts, and a boy with red hair suddenly appears in her line of sight. She knew she made the right call. She always sees these two around the leader.

“Don’t go near that bitch, she tried to kill me and Yuan!” Shirase growls. Yuan has already scurried over to snatch Gin’s knife off of the ground before she can reach for it again. “Held that knife to our throats!”

“Well, you still got your heads,” he huffs. Shirase looks completely taken aback by that. He scoffs.

"You're the Sheep's leader, right?" Gin asks. Her hands are shaking as she sits herself up. She has no chance in fighting anyone back now, so she needs to make her case.

"I'm not anyone's leader. Whaddaya want, kid?" The latter snaps. He keeps his hands in his pockets, glaring down at her with a raised eyebrow. The way he looks at her makes her wonder if he recognizes him.

"The Sheep owe us. Our group," Gin says quietly, slowly trying to stand herself up. Shirase and Yuan back up as soon as she does. "My brother, he…he helped you guys with something. A few months ago."

He looks suspicious, and waits for Gin to continue making her case.

“You’re not seriously gonna hear this bitch out, Ch-”

“Shut up. Let her talk, dammit,” he groans, waving his hand around to signal her to continue talking. He doesn’t make any steps forward, anything to make he think he’s going to retaliate. She tries to swallow back her nerves.

"I'm sorry, I don't…he didn't tell me what happened,” she mumbles quietly. She doesn’t have any idea. All she knows is it was significant enough for them to make this deal together.

"Ability user?" The red-head asks, cocking his head to the side, like he’s recovered a memory.

Gin nods.

"The one whose clothes turn into knives," he confirms.

Gin nods again.

"Yeah. We owe him. Where is he?" he asks. Shirase drops his jaw, starting to argue again, but the boy waves up his hand to shut him up. “Why’d he send you and not come here himself?”

"He needs a doctor. He's really sick," she murmurs, eyes dropping to the ground for a moment, intimidated by the red-head’s intense stare. "Do you know anyone that can help him?"

He exchanges a glance with Shirase for a moment. Shirase looks angry that he would even consider helping, but he knows what the latter is about to suggest without him even saying it, it seems.

“We know one in the city,” The leader says.

“Don’t help this punk ass kid, dammit. She just tried to slit Yuan’s throat! And mine!” he reminds him. Yuan doesn’t seem to want to speak up against this, for some reason. She stares back at Gin with a confused look.

“Well, we owe her brother a favor,” The red-head huffs, not even bothering to give him a look. “No take-backs for that kinda stuff. You know how it works, Shirase.”

Shirase pushes his shoulder and nearly knocks him to the ground. “Since when do you put outsiders over the rest of us, huh? The hell’s your deal? If I wasn’t here, this bitch would’a probably killed Yuan, you fuckin’ - ”

“This girl’s brother took out the guy who stole Yuan, you dumbass,” the leader snarls. “She’d be - if it wasn’t for him, she would -”

“This - that guy…?” Yuan starts, eyes suddenly full of concern as she looks over at Gin, and she starts to put all the pieces together. She remembers the day Ryuunosuke killed the trafficker, the man whom he met with to get supplies in exchange for favors. She suddenly feels sick, remembering his face, and then, his dismembered corpse at her feet. She doesn’t remember why Ryuunosuke ended up killing him, but even if it meant their supplies significantly dwindled, she was thankful he was gone for good.

Shirase is suddenly quiet.

“Please,” Gin starts quietly, feeling her eyes flood with tears with the resurgence of those memories, “I just want him to get better.”

“We’ll help you. I’ll get the doctor to come here if you can get your brother here by tonight,” the Sheep’s leader says.

“Next time, you can just ask for help, instead of trying to kill us,” Yuan grumbles, but her expression still holds that sadness.

Gin feels tears slide down her cheeks.

17 May, 2012 10:03am

Gin thinks to herself, that kid looked an awful lot like Chuuya. But that can't be right, there's no way Chuuya's from Suribachi City. Besides, she knew the Sheep leader's name. What was it again…?

"I'm going to go pick up the dry cleaning, I won't be gone for longer than half an hour. Do you think you'll be okay?" she asks Ryuunosuke. He’s been okay over the past few hours. No change in his fever, but he hasn’t thrown up. “I’ll pick up something to eat, too, but I think you might not be ready for that yet.”

“Not yet,” he confirms, letting his eyes fall shut. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Gin says with a quiet sigh, fixing the cold cloth on his forehead. “Just call me if you need anything, I’ll have my phone on me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but Gin knows she heard him. She dresses herself quickly and scurries out of the front door.

Motomachi isn’t far at all from the apartment, she wouldn’t have left if she knew she couldn’t make it back in a timely manner. She places an order at a restaurant right around the corner from the dry cleaners, that yall it’ll be ready for her once she’s finished picking up their clothes. Efficiently using her time.

She’s caught off guard by a familiar voice before she can wander inside, though.

"Gin!"

Higuchi. Gin whips her head around a little too fast.

"Good morning, ma'am," Gin says, bowing her head for a moment. She’s made herself a little dizzy, but manages to keep her composure.

"You don't have to call me that, Gin. I've said you can call me Ichiyo," Higuchi says. Gin isn't sure she wants to do that. Higuchi is still technically her superior, but she thinks she's latched onto the fact that she knows Gin's secret, now. "How's Akutagawa doing?"

"He seems to be doing better," Gin says, but it's not necessarily true. She'd rather give a vague answer than worry Higuchi any more than she already has. She wonders why Higuchi isn’t at work, but it makes sense that she wouldn’t have any reason to go in with Akutagawa home sick.

There's a girl standing close enough to Higuchi to lead Gin to believe they're out here together, and she almost does a double take at how similar they look. They must be related, but Higuchi's never mentioned anything about having siblings - let alone one that’s near identical to her.

"Ah, sorry, Kuniko," Higuchi says. The girl smiles as Higuchi politely gestures to Gin. "This is one of my coworkers."

"Subordinate," Gin corrects, bowing her head again.

"And Gin, this is my younger sister, Kuniko,” Higuchi introduces cheerfully. The girl smiles back at her.

“It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you,” Kuniko says, a statement that warms Gin’s ears up. What kind of things is she telling her sister about them? “Sorry if we’ve interrupted your plans.”

“Oh - no, it’s okay,” Gin says politely. “I was just going to pick up dry cleaning and some food before I head back home.”

“Do you think he needs to see a doctor, Gin?” Higuchi asks, her eyes suddenly full of concern. She’s not sure what tipped her off. Maybe there was too much urgency in her voice.

“I’d…I’d like him to, but…” Gin says nervously. She chews at her lip.

"I'm so sorry, I should've tried harder to get him to see one yesterday," Higuchi murmurs. She knows that Huguchi’s best efforts would have been wasted on him anyway, he’s far too stubborn to ever take advice or listen to that sort of thing - but of course, Higuchi’s guilt over the situation is tangible nonetheless. Gin doesn't blame her one bit. “I wish I’d noticed sooner…”

"It's alright, ma'am. He's stubborn," Gin says. Of course, to her, the signs are obvious, but she's known Ryuunosuke since she was born. He'll start to space out and become confused over things that make perfect sense. Sometimes he'll get quiet. He way he breathes has been engraved into her memory. She spent several nights keeping watch over him in the slums when he was sick enough to make her think she would wake up to hear his breathing cease.

"Gin?" she says.

"Yes?"

“He’s been getting sick more often,” Higuchi says quietly, her eyes lowered. “I’m worried.”

“I know,” Gin says, but it’s all she can say. She doesn’t know why. He’s never had a good immune system, but it’s only gotten worse. He won’t see doctors, he won’t tell Gin how he’s feeling or why, not ever. All she can do is watch.

"I promise I'll keep a better eye on him, next time,” Higuchi says.

"Please don't blame yourself,” Gin tells her. She would rather take the blame onto herself.

The dry cleaners and picking up food both take much longer than she would have liked them to, and she ends up back at their apartment about an hour later than she planned.

She sets the take-out back on the counter and drops the dry cleaning bag onto the floor before she scurries back to Ryuunosuke’s bedroom, but there’s no sign of him in bed. The sheets are disheveled like he was in a hurry to get out.

"Ryuunosuke?" Gin calls out, but she doesn't see him anywhere in the room. He might be in the bathroom. She’s worried that he’s thrown up again.

She knocks, briefly, to no response. She opens the door, slowly, carefully - Ryuunosuke is curled up against the wall, arms wrapped around his middle, features twisted up in pain. She doesn’t think he’s entirely awake, but he’t not asleep.

“Ryuunosuke?” Gin starts, kneeling in front of him, "You should go back to bed. It's not good for your body to sleep like this.”

She thinks his fever's gotten worse. He's not responding to her. He looks as white as a sheet, and he doesn’t show any sign that he’s heard a word she’s said to him.

"Ryuunosuke, I think -"

Her hand grazes his waist in an attempt to grip his arm, only for a moment, but it sets something off. He flinches so hard that she's worried for a moment he's hit his head, but the bigger problems begin when the ends of his sweatshirt turn into tendrils and hurdle toward her throat. They're wrapped tight around her neck before she can even think to fight back. He’s almost using enough force to pull her off of the ground, and no amount of pulling at his ability could possibly get her out of the restraint.

She feels like she’s going to die. She can feel it start to get sharp, but the choked plea she manages is enough to bring her brother back to reality.

As soon as he lets go, coughs and coughs, really thinking for a moment that she was going to stop breathing. She lifts her head and sees Ryuunosuke halfway up, staring at her wild-eyed, horrified at what he’d just done.

She knows why. He's never once told her, but she knows.

"Gin…I, I'm -" he hardly manages before he forces himself up to vomit into the toilet bowl, clearly not for the first time that day. Gin's angry with herself, she chose a terrible time to leave him. She should have known he would only get worse.

She knows she's safe to touch him now. He's alert, he's said her name. She scoots up closer to him and rubs his back. There’s nothing left for him to bring up. He’s just coughing and dry-heaving. It sounds so painful.

Gin bites her lip when she spots blood drip down his chin.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. His voice shakes. He can’t lift his head just yet, he’s still trying to catch his breath.

"Please don't be sorry," she says quietly. "It's okay."

She holds him for a few moments after he finally lifts his head. She wants him to know he's truly safe, and leave no doubt in his mind.

She can't help but cry.

"Gin…" he manages pulling back and reaching a hand out like he’s trying to comfort her.

"I'm sorry, it's not - it's not what you did," she murmurs. Of course, it scared her, but she's heartbroken that he still reacts like that. He'll never, ever let his guard down. That’s the worst part of it all.

"Your neck…" he says, his face all twisted up with the slew of emotions he’s feeling. God, he’s so pale. He looks like he’ll pass out any second.

"It's okay, Ryuunosuke, I promise,” she assures him, rubbing at the spot that’s starting to become sore. This is truly the last thing he needs to be worrying about. She’s dealt with much, much worse. “Let’s get you back to bed, okay? I think - ”

His eyes roll back and his whole body goes limp and falls forward before she can even finish her sentence. She hears a tiny noise of discomfort from him as she lifts him up to take him back to bed, but she certainly can’t let him fall asleep in the bathroom again.

She manages to get him back to bed, deciding to change out his comforter to something not so damp. His skin is so, so hot - she bites her lip when she feels his forehead. It must feel nice, her cool hand, she can see him visibly relax at the touch.

His eyes open again when she lays a washcloth over his forehead. His eyes don’t look for Gin for a few minutes. She takes his temperature, and the thermometer reads one hundred and three, now. It’s a miracle he’s able to talk to her at all. God, he must feel absolutely miserable.

“Hey,” she greets quietly when his eyes finally find her face, “you passed out.”

She doesn’t want to cause any confusion. He sighs, like he’s disappointed in himself.

“I think I should take you to a doctor, Ryuunosuke,” she tells him. She knows he’s not going to get any better on his own, especially with how much he’s throwing up despite eating nothing.

“I’ll be fine,” he breathes out quietly.

She sighs again. She wishes he weren’t so stubborn. She can’t imagine feeling as miserable as he is right now and refusing any kind of outside help.

"I ran into Higuchi earlier," Gin tells him, “she’s worried about you. She offered to take you to a doctor. Or call one in.”

"She's a fool," he whispers, turning his head away. He can’t comprehend anyone else caring for him. He’s never understood the lengths that Higuchi has gone to for him.

"She's just worried," Gin says. "You don't need to be so secretive with her. It might have saved you some trouble if you told her you weren't doing well yesterday."

"It's not her problem to deal with," he murmurs. He coughs a few times.

Of course he would think that way.

Gin isn't sure what she can do to change his mind. This has been the way he's thought since they were kids. His problems are his own. He never shares them with Gin, she always just happens to find out.

"That doesn't mean you should suffer alone, Ryuunosuke,” she tells him. "You wouldn't want me to suffer alone, would you?"

He scoffs, like it’s a ridiculous comparison, somehow.

"I doubt you would want that for Higuchi either. Or Tachihara, for that matter… any of us. I know you’re not heartless,” she says, patting his hair.

“You always say strange things,” he says quietly, the last of his words drifting off as he starts to fall asleep once more.

17 May, 2012, 17:41

Only a few hours later, Gin’s finding it hard to breathe after she checks the thermometer.

One hundred and four point one.

She can’t wait anymore. He needs to see a doctor right away. Even if it’s not what he wants, someone needs to help him, to do more than Gin possibly can from their apartment. Her hands shake as he brushes his hair from his face - he’s not reacting to anything. Not to any pinches, squeezing his arm, nothing.

But the worst part is that even through his delirium, only a few moments ago, he turned his head to the side to choke up a mouthful of blood, staining the white pillowcase beside him.

She scrambles for her cell phone and searches for Higuchi’s contact. It rings. Once, twice, three times, and Gin almost hangs up, but Higuchi finally answers.

"Miss Higuchi," Gin murmurs, trying her hardest to hide the shake in her voice. She knows there’s no hiding it.

"Gin? Are you okay?" she asks immediately, evidently recognizing the hurt in her voice right away. She already hears shuffling, like he’s getting ready to leave her apartment.

"He’s not…he’s not responding anymore. He needs a doctor,” is all she says, tears slipping from her eyes. She dips her head onto his shoulder and squeezes his arm, tight. His far too hot skin. She can’t see anything in front of her, the salty tears blocking her vision.

“I’ll be right there. Please don’t worry, I’ll be there very soon, okay?” she says gently, but Gin can hear it in her voice, too. She’s afraid.

Gin hangs up the phone and chokes back a sob.

Higuchi arrives in record time only minutes later, Gin stumbles to the front door to let her in, tear tracks staining her cheeks. She tries to wipe them off, she sees the way Higuchi is looking at her like she’s absolutely heartbroken to see her like this - it only makes her cry more.

“Hey, it’s okay, Gin,” Higuchi tells her calmly, holding her and squeezing her tight for just a moment. Gin sobs, covers her face, Higuchi pulls out of the hold and takes her hand before Gin leads her to Ryuunosuke’s bedroom.

Gin won’t have any problem carrying him, he’s so horribly thin, but Higuchi is still on standby. She sees the horror on her face as soon as she’s in the doorway, seeing Ryuunosuke in the state that he’s in - the blood, his white skin, the way he’s nearly limp as Gin lifts him from the bed. Even then, she gets no reaction from him, nothing but a pained moan.

“He’s not responding at all…?” she asks with a shake in her voice as she follows Gin out of the front door and down the steps to her car. Higuchi opens the back door for her to set Ryuunosuke in.

Gin gets into the other side of the backseat just as Higuchi climbs into the front, and without any deliberation, they’re off.

Higuchi tells her on the way there that she’s already notified the nursing staff at the Port Mafia headquarters infirmary that they would be on their way, which is reassuring, they’ll be ready. Gin cries and squeezes her brother’s hand the whole short ride there. Nothing has changed. Even six years later, she’s still terrified of losing him.

They get him up to the infirmary floor of the building in no time at all, and without any reaction from Ryuunosuke. She watches his eyes flutter, like he was trying to regain control, but simply couldn’t. She quietly reassured him the whole way, just in case she could hear him.

Once Gin takes him inside, she lays him down in the cot that they’ve prepared for him and she kneels down beside it, her hands reaching up to the guards on the side. Higuchi has already run over to the staff, and she tries to listen in, but she’s too focused on the restraints on the sides of the cot.

Her stomach drops.

"We won't treat him unless he's been stripped of anything he can weaponize," the doctor says as she approaches, neither her nor any of the nursing staff daring to come any closer.

Gin freezes in place, and stares at them in horror.

She understands their hesitancy to treat him. He's dangerous. He's killed members of their staff, years ago. After that point, Dazai was required to be present for any treatment that Ryuunosuke underwent, to negate any effects of his ability.

But he's not here. There’s no one who can do that anymore.

"Please don't do this," Gin says quietly, slowly standing beside the cot. She’s familiar with this doctor. She’s treated her many times, but she becomes very cold whenever her brother is brought up in conversation. "You don't understand how humiliating that is."

"It's not worth risking the lives of my staff, sir,” the doctor says. She holds eye contact. She almost looks like she feels guilty. Higuchi stands behind her, eyes wide and confused. She likely had no idea that this would be involved at all.

"I'll stay here while you treat him. If it looks like he'll hurt anyone at any point, I'll take the hits," Gin stammers, biting her lip. She’s not even sure that would work. She’s just so desperate for someone to help him, She knows he's dangerous. He's hurt her against his own true will many times. She can still feel his sweater wrapped around her neck and holding her in the air. But it's all out of fear. He's lived so much of his life with no choice but to be that way.

“Please, please help him. He’s so sick,” Higuchi begs, eyes darting between the doctor and her staff.

“I will have him thrown out the moment he hurts any of my staff. Do you understand?” she says.

Gin begrudgingly nods. She just needs someone to help him.

They’ve made their agreement, and finally, the nurses start treating him.

Gin stays beside him the whole time, knees on the tile and elbows on the side of the cot, squeezing Ryuunosuke’s hand. He’s so out of it. He doesn’t react to a single thing that’s going on. Not even the multiple attempts to palace an IV catheter - he had terrible veins and it’s always a painful process for him, but even now, there’s no reaction.

They’re able to get some medications in him, too, through the IV, ones that she doesn't have to worry about coming back up. Something for the nausea, his fever - the doctor said she’s concerned about his lungs, she doesn’t like the sound she’s hearing. Gin knows they aren’t good to begin with, but the doctor is concerned about him developing pneumonia. She squeezes his hand tight again, and just as the doctor sets her stethoscope on his chest again, she feels him flinch.

The tendril stabs through her shoulder before she can recognize it, and she stops breathing for a moment. It's so painful. She's never felt anything more sharp than the fabric of Ryuunosuke's ability, it's almost so sharp that it's numb. She realizes it’s only hit her because of the angle she’s at. He meant to hit the doctor.

"Ryuunosuke," she chokes out, gritting her teeth. "They're trying to help you, Ryuu, please let them. Please."

His eyes are so wide and full of fear. She squeezes his hand tighter. The doctor is frozen in place, fully aware that one wrong move could result in a decapitation.

“I’m here, okay? I would never let anyone hurt you,” she says, tears flooding her eyes.

“I’ll try to give him a sedative,” The doctor whispers. She mentioned that she’s been hesitant on giving him one with the condition of his lungs, but it’s necessary.

One of the nurses has already had one on standby.

He makes a sound that almost resembles her name. He’s fighting to keep his eyes open. Gin cries just looking at that expression, it’s more heartbreaking than anything she’s ever seen on him. She can feel the tendril start to slide of her shoulder and return to its normal form as the doctor injects the sedative into his IV line, and the blood from the hole in her shoulder starts to drip down onto the cot.

Within seconds, his eyes fall shut.

“Gin - ” Higuchi gasps as she runs over, two other nurses following one they realize Ryuunosuke is sedated.

“Will he be okay?” Gin breathes out, wincing as one of the nurses rip the cloth from her shirt to expose her shoulder. “With - with that sedative?”

“I’ll keep a close eye out on him,” she says, brows knit together at the sight of Gin’s injury. She doesn’t want to look. It hurts so much, she hears the whispers from the nurses behind her as they try to coax her into sitting on the neighboring cot, but she doesn’t want to move.

“Gin, let them help you, please,” Higuchi tells her gently, taking her hand and moving her back to the cot. Her voice is shaking so much. “I’ll watch Akutagawa, okay? Let them help you before they can’t fix this anymore.”

Gin's finally starting to get tired herself. She feels her eyes roll back, a few shouts of her name, and everything is black.

May 19, 2012, 18:03

The soreness in her shoulder is the first thing she feels when she starts to feel herself coming back.

“Thank goodness, Gin,” she hears Higuchi say with an exasperated sigh. “I thought you were going to sleep forever…”

She finds Higuchi looming over her when she opens her eyes again, looking concerned but relieved all at the same time.

“Guess not takin’ care’a yourself finally caught up to ya’,” a new voice says, one that she recognizes, but certainly not one that was in the room last time she was awake. She rubs at her eyes as she tries to figure it out, and her stomach drops when her brain finally connects the dots.

Tachihara. Tachihara, who said he would be gone for four days last time that she saw him. Which, if she’s doing the math right -

“How long was I asleep?” she gasps as she sits herself up, wincing hard at the pain in her shoulder. Higuchi squeaks and lays a hand over it, frantically looking around for something to help her.

“I think…it’s been over forty-eight hours, now…” Higuchi says, meekly asking her to be careful as she leans forward to see if Ryuunosuke is still in the cot beside her.

He is. He’s sitting up, propped up by some pillows, leaning forward a little like he’s been watching her, too - as soon as they make eye contact, his shoulders relax with a sigh.

God, she’s so glad to see he’s doing better.

Gin scrambles to get out of the cot, with Higuchi nearly stumbling after her. Ryuunosuke seems a little surprised to see her move so quickly, and she regrets it a little - she feels dizzy, but she needs to check him over.

"Gin," he whispers, eyebrows knit together, "your shoulder."

She looks down at it, finding that blood is starting to seep through the hospital gown she’s been dressed in. It hurts, a lot more than most injuries she’s recieved, but she won’t show him that. She lays her hand over it.

"It's okay," she tells him quietly. He looks so much better than before. There’s color in his face again, his eyes aren’t so glazed over - there’s still an IV catheter in his arm, so he’s still recovering, but this is a massive improvement from before. “You look like you’re feeling a lot better.”

He sighs, like he was expecting her to say that. “You need to look after yourself, Gin.”

“Only if you promise to do that yourself first,” she tells him. Higuchi has found a chair for her and she urges her to sit down, taking note of her shaking legs, not quote yet ready to be walking around after being asleep for so long. She sighs. She hadn’t slept the entire time she was taking care of her brother, and the stress of it all really knocked her out for that long.

“I’m sorry, Gin,” he says to her, very quiet, eyes turned away. He feels guilty, she can see that clear as day. It hurts her to see.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault you got so sick, but you have to let me get help for you sooner next time. Okay?” she tells him, taking his free hand. He just nods, not quite wanting to look her in the eye yet, but that’s fine. As long as he’s acknowledged her words.

“You guys are scary similar,” Tachihara puffs.

“They are…” Higuchi sighs.

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 year

Text

First!Time February: Fic 10

Soft Dom Yunho x Sub!fem reader

Requested by: @stardragongalaxy

Do you want me to write more fics where the reader is desperate and needy? Apparently you do because my Lee Know fic is now NO.2 on my top posts and it’s been less than a month!!

I could just write something called Desperate!June…maybe….maybe not.

Content Includes: ANGST!! Yunho and reader have a misunderstanding, Shower foreplay, fingering (Fem receiving) oral (Fem receiving), nipple play, size kink (duh, it's Yunho), corruption kink, size training (just the tip) kind of sex, unprotected sex (DON'T) cum play, reader is called 'princess'.

The themes in this fic are not toxic but they're not healthy either so just read with care.

Word Count: 1.2

The steamy mist of the bathroom walls filled the air as you quietly opened the door and closed it behind you, attempting to not make a noise and keep the surprise.

You were nervous and doubting yourself as you removed your clothes with hesitation, carefully placing them on the floor as you watched Yunho’s form through the translucent shower curtain.

‘Princess?’

Disappointment filled you as Yunho peeked out from behind the shower curtain, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

‘What are you doing?’

The last article of clothing was removed and you were now bare in front of him,

‘I don’t know, I just heard the shower and wanted to be with you’

Yunho held the shower curtain open for you and you could see the uncertainty in his gaze, perplexed by this very, very sudden change of behaviour.

‘Oh, you didn’t want to wait?’ He questioned,

You looked up at him with widened eyes and an unsure look on your face,

‘No’

Your fingers tentatively trailed up Yunho’s arms and you gasped as the water sprayed on you and you slowly…ever so slowly…pressed the side of your face against Yunho’s wet chest, clutching him against you.

There was a hidden reason why you entered the shower with Yunho as your heart leaped out of your chest and knots formed in your stomach.

You didn’t want him to leave.

Yunho didn’t react straight away to your touch and his body was tense and mind becoming unclear, he had just gone from thinking about nothing to thinking about how your warm, nude body is pressing against his and he has no fucking idea why.

‘I’ve never showered with anyone before’ You murmured against his chest,

‘I’ve always wanted to, I thought now was a good time’.

You and Yunho had been together for a few months now but it felt like he was slipping away from you, you were honest about how little and few your sexual encounters had been and he said he was fine with your inexperience.

But it seemed now he wasn’t fine.

His kisses and touching were few and far in-between and even when you initiated the making out, praised him with your adoration and gazed up at him like he hung the fucking stars.

It didn’t seem like it was enough.

You were desperate and desperation always means irrational and non-sensical thinking.

Your heart wasn’t enough, your words weren’t enough and your efforts weren’t enough (in your mind) so you were choosing to give him this…

Your body.

A gentle kiss was placed in the middle of Yunho’s chest as you tilted your chin to look up at him,

‘Can I kiss you?’ You asked shyly, attempting to crane your neck further upwards so he could get the hint.

‘Of course’

Yunho leaned down and kissed you eagerly as he set the pace, eager and demanding, he groaned into your mouth and you caught it with a sigh, letting him open your mouth with his tongue and his strong hands wander over your nude body.

‘What’s gotten into you? Is my princess feeling a bit needy?’ He teased, a soft smirk graced his features.

‘I just want you to touch me’ You responded breathlessly, ‘I’m ready’.

You weren’t entirely sure if you were ready for this, to enter into this level of intimacy but you wanted Yunho to feel desired and that you desired for him to touch you, to take your body in the hopes that he’ll stay and he won’t leave.

He cornered you against the shower wall and you gasped lightly at the cold tile against your back, he loomed over you and his arms caged you in, making you feel smaller than you already did.

‘You might need to be a bit more specific, love’ His lips were against your neck, whispering and murmuring.

‘What are you ready for?’

‘Whatever you want’

Time stood still as Yunho touched you and the next thing you knew you were bracing yourself against the wall as his tongue was on your clit and two of his fingers were scissoring inside of you, he was moaning against you as your fingers scraped against his scalp.

‘You’re so tight, I need to open you up, I don’t want to hurt you’

‘Yunho…omg’ You cried out in pleasure, your body jolting when Yunho’s tongue shifted from circling your clit to nibbling at the underside slightly, the tension in your core building.

‘Yun..I’m coming..I’m com-’ You moaned out as you climaxed against Yunho’s face, your hips pressing back against the tile as Yunho’s tongue licked the sensitive area clean.

Your hands clutched at Yunho’s biceps as he stood up with reddened cheeks and his mouth wet with your slick, his hair falling in his eyes.

‘I think that’s enough for today, yeah?’

Your eyes showed your discontent as you clung onto Yunho’s shoulders.

‘No…I want more, want to go all the way'.

There was silence as Yunho turned the taps off and he didn't look at you as he stepped out of the shoulder, wrapping himself in a towel and then holding out the second one for you.

You stepped into Yunho’s arms as he wrapped the towel around you, your chin wobbling as you felt him rub your shoulders.

'Are you going to leave me?’

Yunho stepped back and gazed down at you with confused eyes.

‘No, why would I?’

‘Because’ and you started to tear up, your lashes becoming wet.

‘You haven't been affectionate and you've been more quiet than usual, I thought you were getting bored of me because I don't have the experience other girls do at my age’.

Yunho’s eyes narrowed in concern,

‘No princess, it's not that, I just didn't want to tell you is all’

He reached out with his thumb to wipe a stray tear from under your eye,

‘Can we move to the bedroom first? I don't want to tell you while we're in the bathroom’ Yunho chuckled awkwardly, nodding his head towards the bedroom.

…

‘I haven't been touchy because I'm worried I'm going to hurt you’ Yunho sighed out and ran a hand through his damp hair, both of you sitting on the bed with your towels wrapped around each other.

‘I can't control myself during sex like I can with other things, I don't want to get carried away’

‘I don't care if you get carried away, I just want you’ You leaned forward to kiss Yunho’s gently, gazing up at him with as much love as you could muster.

‘Please? Don't make me beg more, just have me Yunho, have me’.

That response was enough to quickly reach over and kiss you, his hands pressed on your shoulders as you set yourself back on the pillows.

‘Here, put a pillow underneath you’ Yunho reached out to grab one and you eagerly removed your towel, causing Yunho to go ‘wow’ at the sight of underneath him.

He removed his and now he hovered over you, his legs in-between yours and resting on his knees.

‘Wait…can you come closer please? I want to feel you above me’

‘Anything for my Princess' Yunho smiled and adjusted himself so his hand was framing your face, the other on his cock.

‘Just the tip okay? Let's start with just the tip’.

You jolted slightly as Yunho pressed himself inside of you, both of you letting out a wanton moan as you felt him inside of you.

‘Fuck, that feels so good already' Yunho moaned out, his voice all gravelly and husky.

He widened your right thigh and moved it to his hip, causing the tip of his cock just to slide in a little more and you shuddered as he stretched you even further.

‘Yun…feels so good…I feel so full’.

'I’m not even halfway in yet Princess, here come look’

You tilted your head to see Yunho’s hand was still around his shaft and he was right, he was about ¼ in and you already felt like he was splitting you open.

‘I don't..I don't think I can take anymore’ You whined out, your mind becoming fuzzy.

‘We’ll stop here for now, besides I think we just broke your hymen Princess'

You let out a breathy laugh at that response,

‘Yay…not a virgin anymore!’ You chuckled, causing the severity of the moment to lighten up.

Yunho’s thrusts were tiny, he was more rocking his hips forward but you could feel how deep he was anyway, your hands clutching the pillow above you and you were sighing from the exertion.

‘Here’ Yunho panted out, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles ‘feel this’.

He placed your hand on your mound and you could feel his cock moving and you looked up at him in surprise.

‘Omg-whaaaa?’ You chuckled out in surprise as Yunho leaned in to kiss your forehead gently, the moment softening to something more gentle.

'You're taking me so well, we’ll keep trying until you can take me all the way’

‘I can't wait’ you beamed up at him and pulled him down to kiss you again.

A few more pumps were had before Yunho pulled out and released on your stomach, eyeing the sticky mess with a sense of ownership, feeling his possessiveness take over in his mind.

‘Such a dirty girl, letting me cum on you’ Yunho teased as he cleaned his cum up with a baby wipe, reaching down afterwards to place soft kisses along your stomach.

'But you're MY dirty girl, you can only be MY sweet, little princess’.

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Taglist: @destiny-fics @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @hipster-shiz @creativechaoticloner @cherry-0420 @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @scuzmunkie @mrcarrots @reighlee-greaves @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @kodzukein @whatsk-poppinhomies @yeosdarling @hologramhoneymoon @dilucpegg3r @marievllr-abg @craxy-person @itbtoblikethatsometimes @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @thirstybchanstan @necessiteez @softquokka @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @hijeongguk @berryberrytan @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny

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noirsfantasy · 6 months

Text

On the fourth day of Christmas...

𝔄 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔬 ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔱. 𝟐

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Actor!Michael B Jordan x OC!Naomi Samuels

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 6.2K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ Naomi decides to go to the Christmas market with Michael, Dan, Ashanti, Teresa, and her husband James. Grandmother gives them an activity to do while they're out. A Christmas scavenger hunt. They decide to split into teams and Naomi ends up on a team with Michael... and Ashanti. It's looking like it will be an eventful day.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Y'all, why are there actually no Christmas movies with Michael B Jordan in them??? This man was made for the holidays! all I can say is that I'm wishing for him to be under my tree come Christmas day. But in all seriousness, this story is so fun to write and I just have so many ideas. Please let me know your thoughts and enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

Part 1 Here

Part 3 Here

The morning sun spills its golden hues into my room. I groan as the light reaches my eyes, causing me to squint. I sit up in my bed, grateful that my scarf stayed on the entire night. Glancing at my calendar, I note that it's only six days until Christmas. I try not to focus on the fact that I'll be spending those six days with Michael B Jordan, the idea is still unbelievable to me. It's a bit chilly, so I make sure I have a warm pair of socks on before heading downstairs.

As I step into the kitchen, the enticing aroma of breakfast greets me. The lively chatter of family members already fills the air as they prepare for the day. I notice my grandmother sitting at the table, sipping her coffee. She's always been an early riser.

"Good morning, Mimi," she greets me with a warm smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"Morning, Grandmother. I slept like a baby. It's a bit cold in here, though." I reply, giving a small shiver and rubbing my hands together as I return her smile. "Can we turn the heat up?" Grandmother gives me a knowing grin.

"Oh no, darling. We not running up my electric bill. It is fine where it's at." She shakes her head and I sigh softly, rubbing my arms to heat them up. I turn to walk away, but she starts to speak again.

"Why don't you go find that young man and ask him to light the fireplace for you? I know he's somewhere around here." She suggests, her grin growing. "You know, since you're so cold," she chuckles, sipping from her mug again. I smile and roll my eyes as I get up and head to go look for him.

I make my way through the corridors of my childhood home, the wooden floor creaking slightly as I walk along the boards. It's still early, but most of the house is already awake and alive with the energy of this holiday season. After a brief detour through the kitchen, where my aunts mingle as usual, I head towards the den. There, sitting on the couch, I find Michael, deep in conversation with my younger twin cousins, Matthew and Mason.

"Hey, guys. What y'all talkin' 'bout?" I ask as I shuffle over to stand in front of them. The twins look up with wide eyes, clearly still starstruck by the presence of the famous actor. Michael flashes them a friendly smile, instantly putting the young boys at ease.

"We were just telling Michael about our favorite superhero movies!" Mason exclaims, his excitement palpable as he holds onto his Incredible Hulk toy.

"Who's your favorite superhero, Michael?" Matthew chimes in, listening eagerly. Michael leans back onto the couch, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Is it Killmonger?" Mason questions.

"Killmonger in some ways, could be seen as a hero with a lot of depth and character. But he's technically a villain." He explains. "I'd have to say that Spider-Man is my favorite superhero, but I did enjoy playing Killmonger." Matthew and Mason giggle at Michael's reply and I smirk, finding it endearing.

"But the real question is, which Spider-Man?" I ask in a teasing tone. Michael raises his eyebrows at me.

His expression immediately lights up as he recognizes my attempt at taunting him. He gives me a small smile and laughs.

"Oh come on now, Mimi, you know that doesn't even have to be a question. It's obviously Tom Holland."

"No!" both boys reply in unison, laughing and shaking their heads.

"It's obviously gotta be Toby! He's the original!" Mason shouts and Matthew nods enthusiastically.

"Well, personally, I think Andrew Garfield was the best," I add. The boys go silent and stare at me with disappointed looks.

"No offense, Mimi, but you've let us down," Matthew says, shaking his head slowly. I look at them shocked as they look back at me awkwardly.

"What? Why can't I have my own opinion on this?" I question with a laugh.

"You're just not cool like Michael is." Mason shrugs his shoulders and Michael raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Wowwww," I cross my arms in fake offense. "You know what? You boys haven't brushed your teeth this morning, have you?" I purse my lips at them and they drop their shoulders.

"No..." They both say as they slowly get up from the couch, groaning in protest.

"Uh uh, I don't wanna hear it. You got so much to say but you ain't even got clean teeth. Shameful." I taunt, causing Michael to laugh. "Make sure that Jessie girl brushes as well!" I call after them. Their mopey mood is replaced by a competitive one as they begin to challenge each other to who can get to their sister the fastest. Michael and I watch in amusement as they leave.

"Did you brush your teeth, Naomi?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. I narrow my eyes at him.

"Let's not go there, right now," I give him a sarcastic smile and he laughs a bit. "I need your help with something," I say, shuffling my feet.

"Sure, what do you need?" He responds, standing up from his seat.

"Well, it's absolutely freezing downstairs. Do you mind lighting the fire for me?" I ask, grinning sheepishly. Michael snickers at the request.

"Fireplace duty, huh? I think I can handle that." He follows me down to the living room and kneels next to the fireplace.

"Thank you," I say as I sit down on the floor in front of the fireplace and lean my back against the couch, watching as he adds the logs and lights a match. As soon as the fire starts to crackle, Michael steps back and glances at me. I realize that, even though it's early in the morning, he's dressed and ready for the day. The only thing he doesn't have on is shoes, but I still feel a bit embarrassed at my appearance. I haven't done anything to my hair and I am in my pjs still.

"You look pretty cozy over there, Naomi." He teases. I side-eye him slightly, turning to look at him as I hold my hands out to feel the heat and wiggle my toes while I let the fire warm my feet.

"I'm just trying not to freeze to death. I hate the cold." I retort, rubbing my hands together. Michael chuckles and sits down next to me, offering me his warmth. He leans his arm on the couch, letting it fall slightly so that his hand hangs over to the side of the couch where I'm sitting.

"Didn't you grow up here in the cold?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at me. I smile slightly, letting out a soft sigh.

"I didn't like it then and I don't like it now. It makes me glad I moved to New York. It's at least a little warmer there." I shrug, pulling my knees to my chest so I can be warmer.

"I understand it. I grew up in New Jersey, so I've had my experiences with the cold." He admits. Michael looks over at me, seeing me shiver. "You know, you don't gotta put on this act of being freezing cold." He says and he puts his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. "If you wanted to get close to me, you could've just said so."

I try to contain my shock, blushing at his boldness. My heart is racing and I'm hoping that he doesn't notice.

"It's not like that at all," I mutter, trying to keep my voice steady. He chuckles at my reaction.

"Oh yeah? Then what's it like?" He questions, noticing that I'm completely at a loss for words. I clear my throat and shrug.

"I just feel comfortable with you." I finally say, looking at him from the corner of my eye. I laugh, leaning into his shoulder.

"Better?" He questions as he rubs my arm to warm me.

"Much better. Thanks for the invitation." We both let out a light laugh, leaning back against the couch.

"I've got a question," Michael says after a moment.

"What's up?" I look up at him, realizing just how close to me he is.

"Why do they call you Mimi?" As he asks this, I stifle my laughter.

"Oh, God. That nickname haunts me everywhere I go!" I cover my face with my hands and Michael laughs at my reaction.

"What's wrong with it? I think it's cute." He winks at me playfully.

"It's little girl cute. Other names have cool nicknames like you have Mike and Daniel has Dan. But I just have this lil cutesy nickname, Mimi. Makes me sound like a kid." I rant adorably. Michael continues laughing until he composes himself.

"If it bothers you then why don't you choose a new nickname?" He suggests and I raise my eyebrow at him in confusion.

"Like what?" I question, doubting there's anything better for me. He thinks for a moment and then smiles when he's got it.

"Nao." He says waving his hand as if the name is supposed to appear out of thin air. I look deadpan at him and he starts laughing once more, a genuine smile on his face.

"Nao?" I raise my eyebrow even higher.

"You know, like Ne-yo, but cooler. Nao..." He does the thing with his hand again and I shake my head, giggling.

He continues to laugh as I mutter, "You're so corny." I roll my eyes at him and he gives me a playful shove.

"Well, you love it." He teases and I cross my arms. "So are you gonna consider the nickname or not?" He questions and I pause. My eyes shift to the side and a slow smile spreads across my face.

"I guess anything is better than Mimi," I concede with a sigh.

"Nao it is then." As Michael and I laugh with each other, we hear a loud bell from the kitchen. Michael looks at me with confusion.

"It's the breakfast bell. Means the food's ready. I should probably go get dressed." I mention. Michael removes his arm from around me and stands up offering his hand to help me up as well. I take it graciously. He pulls me to my feet, smiling warmly at me. Our hands linger for an extra second, our eyes locked onto each other.

"Alright, let me go see if I can help set the table." He says after a moment, letting go of my hand. He heads towards the kitchen, but not before calling back, "Don't forget to brush your teeth!" I smile to myself as I go back up the stairs.

As I walk through the common area to get to my room, I'm stopped by a voice behind me.

"You don't really think he'll go for you, do you?" I look over and see Ashanti in the doorway of the bathroom. I raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, already knowing I'm about to deal with some bullshit.

"Michael is a man who is way out of your league, don't you think?" She questions, crossing her arms.

"Ashanti, I'd love to get into whatever this is, but I need to get dressed," I say, turning away.

"I'm saying he should be with someone more on his level. Someone like me." She has a smug look on her face and I turn back towards her.

"Don't you already have a boyfriend?" I narrow my eyes at her.

"He's more of... a friend with benefits." She lies and I roll my eyes.

"You literally share an apartment with him." I retort.

"Don't try to deflect, Naomi. You need to back off of Michael, so I can show who he really should be with. A refined and classy woman with my social standing is the perfect match for a perfect man like him." I side-eye her as she spews these delusions.

"Whatever, Shanti. Have him, I don't care." I walk away before she can respond and shut my door. I should have known she'd come at me like that. It's always like this with her. She's jealous of me and wants Michael for herself. I won't try and stop her from going after him, but if he wants me, there's not much I can do about that. That being said, there's no telling if he likes either one of us. For one, we just met him yesterday, and two, we don't even know where his head is at right now.

I shake that conversation off and get ready for the day. I make it back to my bedroom, deciding to take a quick shower and change into something more decent to eat breakfast in. I'm feeling pretty good about myself until I remember the moment this morning with Michael and I suddenly get butterflies in my stomach. I take a few deep breaths and take my time to apply lotion and perfume.

After I feel I'm presentable, I slip on some jeans and a brown sweater to stay warm. I quickly brush my hair, checking myself in the mirror one last time before heading down to eat.

As I get down the stairs, everyone is already eating. I notice Ashanti sitting very close to Michael as she talks his ear off while he eats. Michael smiles politely, but it's obvious he's not into it. I head into the kitchen and grab some breakfast before sitting at the kitchen table, next to my mother.

"Good morning, Mimi." She greets me, smiling warmly at me.

"Morning, Mom. What are the plans for today? We doing anything?" I ask as I take a bite of food. My mother glances around the table, her eyes lingering for a bit on Michael and Ashanti.

"Well, I was thinking." She starts, "Why don't you older children take a trip to the nearby Christmas market? I'm sure there will be some great activities there."

"Sounds good," I reply. I steal a quick glance at Michael, who seems to be searching for an escape from Ashanti's chatter. Our eyes meet for a moment, and he offers a small smile. "Are we bringing the kids, too?" I ask, looking back at my mother. She shakes her head.

"Your uncles are taking the boys and Jessie to go sledding." She tells me and I smile at that.

"They'll love that," I say as I finish my food, putting my utensils on the plate. "Give me a call if you need me."

"Don't worry, baby, you just go have fun. Oh and..." She leans in to whisper to me. "Make sure to put the works on Michael. I need a son-in-law." She teases. I cover my face in embarrassment and sigh.

"I'll see you later, Mom." I laugh as I walk away, putting my dishes in the sink. After everyone is finished, I grab my brother, Teresa, James, Michael, and Ashanti and tell them what we're about to do.

"Hey guys, Mom suggested that we go to the Christmas market for the day. It's just a short walk down the street, y'all down?" I ask them.

"Oh my God! We used to love going to the Christmas market when we were younger, remember?" Teresa asks, beaming at the memories. I nod, smiling in response. James gazes admirably at Teresa as she brightens up. He always likes to see her happy.

"That sounds like a good plan. I've been dying for that food all year!" Daniel says excitedly. Michael laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

"I'm down to go. I've been wanting to see more of this place." He replies, looking a bit excited as well.

"Well, you already know if T is going, J will be there also," James smirks, leaning against the wall. Ashanti gives him a look of disappointment.

"Please, never refer to yourselves as 'T and J'. It sounds stupid." She tells them. James and Teresa both laugh and Ashanti rolls her eyes. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun!" She squeals, wrapping her arm around Michael's and leaning into him. He winces as she lets out a loud gasp, "Let me go get changed! There might be paparazzi there!" She giggles excitedly as she leaves the room to get ready. Michael gives Dan a surprised look.

"Is she always like that?" He asks, chuckling nervously. We all slowly nod our heads.

"I'm afraid so..." I reply.

"And, unfortunately, she's a professional at missing hints." Dan jokes and we all share a laugh. Grandmother makes her way over to us slowly, carrying six sheets of paper and six mini Polaroid cameras. Teresa's eyes light up once more.

"Are those what I think they are?" She inquires and Grandmother gives her a warm smile. Teresa reads her list carefully, eyes growing wide as she realizes what Grandmother has set up for us.

"Yes, it is, baby." We each are given a piece of paper and a camera. Upon closer inspection of the paper, we realize that it's a checklist.

"What is it?" Michael asks, a bit confused. I grin excitedly as I realize as well.

"It's a Christmas hunt!" I blurt out. Daniel looks excited as well and turns to Michael to explain.

"So, when we were younger, every year we'd visit the Christmas market and we'd do a holiday-themed scavenger hunt." He starts.

"Grandmother always made the list and we had to take pictures with each item on this list. We'd spend all day checking things off of it." Teresa chimes in.

"And, if we finish everything off of the list, we got to have Grandmother's famous Snickerdoodle Cookies! And a bunch of cute photos to put on the mantle." I add with enthusiasm. Michael looks at us all with amusement and nods his head.

"Okay, I'm in!" He tucks his list into his jacket and Teresa and I look at each other eagerly. Eventually, Ashanti returns from her room, dressed in a pink sweater and matching pink leggings.

"What? A scavenger hunt? You should've told me! I would have dressed accordingly." She whines. We all laugh and roll our eyes and head out the door, James and Daniel each pulling a wagon behind us.

The Christmas market bustles with activity as we pass the booths, and festive music all around. The colors and lights take me back to when I was just a little girl. The air carries a sweet scent of roasted chestnuts and the lively hum of joyous conversations.

"Wow, it seems like forever since I've been here," I say, my eyes lighting up as I look around.

"It hasn't changed a bit." Dan smiles, enjoying the nostalgia he gets from the place. I'm walking between Michael and Daniel and Ashanti clings to Michael's other side. Instead of letting her get the satisfaction of walking on Michael's arm, he links his arm with mine as well and I do the same with Dan so that we are all walking together. This seems to annoy her a bit, but we continue on. Teresa and James are walking hand in hand ahead of us and stop at the entrance of the market so we can make a game plan.

"Okay," I start, pulling out my list. "So it looks like we've got enough of things on here to keep us out here for a while." Everyone gathers around with their lists out.

"I've got an idea. How about we split up into teams? Three vs three?" James suggests.

"I like that. So who's on who's team?" Daniel questions. Teresa puts her arm on James' shoulder, smiling.

"It doesn't matter to me. Just as long as I have my boo with me. Otherwise, I'm lost." She says, causing me to giggle at her cuteness.

"Aww." He grins back at her. "I'll make sure to take good care of you then."

"You better. Or I'll come after you." She replies, punching his arm playfully. He laughs and puts his arm around her shoulder. Ashanti rolls her eyes once more at them.

"You two can do what you want, but I'm gonna stick with Michael." She says in a condescending tone. Michael raises an eyebrow at her, but he doesn't bother to argue. I shrug, already knowing she'd choose to team with him.

"Dan? Which team are you going to?" I ask and he gives me a mischievous smirk that seems to only have been seen by me.

"You know, I gotta team with my boy James and Cousin Tt." He shrugs his shoulders. "Sorry, I'm in it to win it." Dan and James dap each other up and I shake my head while laughing.

"Sigh, I guess I'm stuck with Ashanti and Michael," I say in mock annoyance, putting my hand on my forehead dramatically.

"Oh poor Naomi. Forced to walk around with the two hottest people here." Ashanti pretends to wipe a tear.

"Shut up." I roll my eyes.

"I'm just saying, we just look so good together." She wraps her arm around Michael's again and he looks off to the side. I feel the annoyance building but I push it back down.

"Don't be mad, girl, you know you're up there, too," Teresa assures me, nudging my shoulder.

"And besides, I wouldn't consider you being on my team a bad thing..." Michael replies, winking at me. A small smile comes across my face, but I quickly remove it.

"Perfect," Ashanti says under her breath, but I ignore her.

"Alright, teams. It's currently 1:00. We'll do as many items on our list as we can and meet back up here at 4. How does that sound?" James looks around at all of us and we nod in agreement.

"And the first one to find all of the items wins the cookies!" Teresa announces excitedly. We all chuckle a bit and nod again.

"You're on," I say competitively.

"Alright, see you back here in 3 hours." He says, handing his wagon to Michael and walking away with Teresa and Daniel.

"This'll be fun..." Daniel replies, nodding. Our teams split off to do their own thing and find the items on the list. Ashanti sticks to Michael the entire time, sticking to his side as though they were on a date. I have a feeling this is going to be a painful day.

"Okay, let's get started," I say with a determined smile. As we make our way through the market, we start looking at our list.

"Let's see, it looks like the first thing on the list is to take a picture with the most festive-looking person in the market," I say and Ashanti grabs her camera, handing it to me.

"Oh, that's easy." She does a little twirl and puts her hands under her chin. "It's obviously me." Michael and I glance at each other and start laughing.

"I'm not so sure that pink sequins and fur coats exactly scream 'festive'," I giggle and she shoots me a glare.

"Well, what would you know?" She turns her nose up.

"How about her?" Michael says, pointing towards a woman walking in the snow with a beautiful umbrella. She's wearing a cozy red dress and has Christmas trees stitched to the fabric. She has a green fur shawl on and lights braided into her hair.

"Now THAT'S festive," I grab my camera and we all start heading to her, Ashanti groaning under her breath. "Excuse me, miss!" I catch her attention and she turns around, smiling as we approach her.

"Hi, I'm Naomi, this is my cousin Ashanti and our friend Michael." I introduce. She holds her gloved hand out and shakes mine.

"Hello, I'm Helen." She does a small curtsy. After exchanging pleasantries, Michael asks her if she'll take a photo with us. Helen says yes and holds her umbrella out as we get someone to hold the camera for us. We gather around her and smile. With a flash of the camera, the small Polaroid photo ejects out the top and starts to develop. We thank the kind gentleman who took the picture and thank Helen. She walks away and we happily check the first item off the list.

"Alright, that's one off the list." Michael pumps his fist in the air and gives us both a playful high-five.

"Okay, next thing," I say, tucking the photo into my pocket. We set off to check more things off of the list. "We need to take a photo with a street performer or musician. That shouldn't be too hard; the market is filled with them."

As we continue through the lively market, we encounter various street performers showcasing their talents. From musicians playing cheerful tunes to magicians captivating the crowd, the festive spirit is in full swing. We finally settle on a group of carolers dressed in Victorian-era attire, harmonizing beautifully.

"Perfect," Michael declares, "Let's ask them for a quick photo!" As we approach, the carolers welcome us warmly, and we pose in front of the Polaroid.

"Ooh, let me choose the next one!" Ashanti says, pulling out her list. "How about the handmade ornaments?" She suggests.

"Now you're talking," I reply with a smile and we head towards the market's craft section. There are many booths with cute wooden trinkets, nutcrackers, and toys. After a bit of searching, we finally settled on a booth.

"Oh my gosh! This one would go perfectly on the tree! Don't you think?" Ashanti picks up an ornament that is covered in pink sparkles and shimmers. Michael and I grin at her, nodding in agreement.

"It really screams Ashanti," I comment and she takes it to the vendor to buy. I look around for a bit, wondering what I should get.

Michael picks out a small carved wooden reindeer from the section and I settle on a mini clay Santa Claus. I look back over at Ashanti and see her holding a star ornament made out of gold wires and encrusted with gems. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"I thought you wanted the other ornament?" I ask with a snicker. She simply smirks.

"I know, but this one is just speaking to me right now. I have to get it."

"Well, I gotta admit, it does look pretty festive," Michael adds, nodding his head. Ashanti smiles proudly.

"See, Michael likes it." She playfully sticks her tongue at me and I laugh.

"Don't worry, I like it as well." I look at my Santa Claus ornament and head over to buy it from the vendor. We take our pictures with the ornaments and place them in our wagon.

"Alright, that's three down, we're making good progress," Michael says as we start to walk again. He looks at the list and smiles. "I like this next one." Ashanti and I both look at his sheet to see what he's pointing to. It says "Find a mistletoe and take a group photo underneath it." Ashanti immediately lights up.

"Oh! I remember where they sell those!" She says, grabbing Michael's hand enthusiastically and pulling him in the direction of the booth. I sigh, shaking my head as I grab the wagon and follow behind them.

When I finally catch up, I see them standing in front of a charming mistletoe display near a Christmas tree vendor.

"Naomi, you hold the mistletoe, and Michael and I will kiss, okay?" She suggests and I raise my eyebrows at her. She's being bold today. Michael chuckles nervously and takes the mistletoe from Ashanti.

"How about you both hold the mistletoe and you both kiss one of my cheeks while I take the photo? That'll be a good picture for sure." He holding the mistletoe out to us. I exchange a playful glance with Ashanti, who seems to be more interested in being near Michael than holiday fun. Nevertheless, we gather beneath the mistletoe and we lean in to kiss his cheeks. Michael makes a silly face and snaps the photo. The result is a cute selfie that really captures the fun that we are having.

Over the next hour, we get pictures with a holiday elf, a gingerbread house, and even a guy with an ugly Christmas sweater. Ashanti keeps trying to cling to Michael, but he always seems uninterested in her. Instead, he makes sure to include me in the fun and we all have a good time hunting for the items off of the list.

"Dang, it's already 3:00," Michael tells us, checking his watch.

"And we've only got 9 things marked off the list." I sigh and Ashanti groans loudly.

"Ugh, this is taking forever!" She whines, dropping her shoulders.

"Well, this next one should be great, then. We need to take a pic drinking some hot chocolate. We can rest a bit there." I suggest. Michael smiles at the idea.

"Sounds good to me." He says and Ashanti nods as well.

"Oh, yes! It'll be the perfect pic to post on my story." She says, completely forgetting about the scavenger hunt and walking ahead of us. Michael walks beside me, breathing a sigh of relief.

"What, do you miss your little girlfriend?" I ask, teasingly. Michael rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head.

"Don't even get me started on her." He replies, shaking his head as he laughs. "She's very determined, I'll give her that. But can I breathe?" He shudders and I laugh.

"Well, I guess that's the price of being a famous actor, Mr. Jordan," I smirk at him and he raises his eyebrows.

"So, it's like that then?" He questions, faking a look of hurt.

"Oh yeah, especially after today," I reply with a nod. Michael smiles mischievously at me and puts his arm around my shoulders.

"Aw, are you upset because Shanti keeps stealing me away from you, Ms. Samuels?" His voice is low as he leans into my ear and I find myself blushing again. I ignore the feeling of butterflies as I wrap my arm around his waist, looking up at him.

"Oh yeah, I'm so jealous, right now. I just want you all to myself." Sarcasm drips off my voice as our back-and-forth banter causes us both to burst out laughing.

"If I'm honest, I feel less pressured when I'm around you," Michael admits. "Most people treat me like I'm royalty or something, or they just see me as a celebrity. But I don't feel that with you. I feel like I'm just some regular guy and like you actually genuinely like me."

"Well, I do genuinely like you. You're more than just an actor and I think you deserve to be treated like a human being." I smile at him, leaning my head on his shoulder. Michael gently rubs my arm and gives me a reassuring smile.

"Thanks. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I genuinely like you, too," He whispers, playfully nudging me as we continue to walk. We catch up to Ashanti at the booth, where she's sitting on a stool posing for selfies with her mug. I sit next to her and Michael sits beside me, causing her to glance over at us.

"It's about time you two came over. Here, Naomi. Take some pics for me." She shoves her phone into my hand and I sigh, holding it up for her as she does various poses. Michael chuckles and starts ordering drinks from the vendor. When Ashanti finishes, she snatches her phone back to look at the results.

"You're welcome," I mutter under my breath. Michael slides a mug of hot chocolate towards me and I accept it graciously. "Thanks, Michael," I say, appreciating the gesture.

"Of course, here." He says, taking his Polaroid and standing it up against one of the menu stands. He sets the timer on the camera and leans close to me, flashing a smile and holding his mug up. I do the same and the camera flashes, printing out the photo. We clink our mugs together as the photo develops and begin to sip the hot chocolate.

Ashanti, noticing us clink our drinks together, seems upset again and pouts, glancing over at me before turning back towards Michael. We make eye contact and I give her a smile because I'm in a good mood and not about to be a killjoy. She ignores my attempt to be kind, though, as expected.

After finishing our hot chocolate, Michael stands up and picks up his camera. "All right, it's about time we get out of here. We're halfway through our list. Team, what items do we still have left?" I pull out my list and scan over it.

"Next one says to find a gift for someone in the family and have it gift-wrapped," I reply, before looking up and seeing the others. Teresa, James, and Dan stroll over all grinning at us.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is." Daniel gives us a smug smirk as they walk over.

"What's the smug look for?" I step up to him and cross my arms and he does the same.

"Oh, nothing, just worried you might go hungry when we eat all those cookies in your faces." He responds and we both glare at each other jokingly before breaking out into laughter.

"You two are something else." Teresa shakes her head.

"Don't act like you're not just as competitive, Teresa. I still have back pain from playing musical chairs with you." Dan retorts, rubbing his lower back. Michael leans over to whisper in my ear.

"Remind me never to play musical chairs with her." He says and I nudge his shoulder playfully.

"Have y'all gotten to the snowman one yet?" James asks and we all shake our heads. "Perfect, how about a contest, then?"

"A snowman-building contest?" Ashanti gives him a look of confusion.

"Yeah, each team makes the best snowman they can think of," Teresa adds.

"What does the winning team get?" Michael inquires.

"Nothing, it's just for fun."

"Oh, no, I don't do these types of things for 'fun'. There's gotta be something at stake." Ashanti says, tapping her foot.

"How about the loser has to knock down their snowman and take their photo with the remains," I suggest with a mischievous smile on my face.

"I like the sound of that." Dan nods.

"Let's do it!" Teresa shouts and we all head over to a wide patch of snow. The teams huddle to discuss our strategies and then take a couple minutes to gather any items we need.

"How about we make a fashion icon snowman?" Ashanti suggests.

"No, it's got to be something outside of the box. Something no one would think of." Michael replies, tapping his chin as he thinks. I smile once an idea comes to me.

"What about an upside-down snowman?" I look at their faces to see their reaction. "Who is also a fashion icon," I add and they both slowly smile.

"I've gotta admit, that is pretty outside the box. Let's go get the stuff!" Ashanti says and we hurry to find supplies. The snowman building begins and we enthusiastically make a snowman with its head buried in the snow, making sure that the other team doesn't see what we're doing. Michael, Ashanti, and I work together to create the perfect snowman, laughing as we give it quirky accessories and make it stand out.

Daniel's team reveals their snowman to be a gentleman with a top hat and a scarf, seemingly scrolling on a phone that happens to belong to James. We all get a kick out of it, but I know that ours is the one that's really gonna blow them away. We bring them over to our snowman and they immediately start laughing, enjoying how we put boots on top of the snowman for its feet.

"Wow! Okay, I think it's obvious that's the winner right there." James says in surprise.

"What can I say? We've just got that creative touch." I say, putting my elbow on the snowman. Unfortunately, it wasn't packed together sturdy enough and my added weight caused it to crumble and me to fall on top of it.

"Naomi!" Ashanti shouts, annoyed that I ruined the snowman. Michael rushes over to help me up as Dan, Teresa, and James all laugh at the sight. Michael is laughing a bit too, but he makes sure I'm okay and pulls me to my feet. I brush snow off my bottom and chuckle at my clumsiness.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean for that to happen." I rub my neck sheepishly and look over at Ashanti, who looks livid. "You okay, Ashanti?"

To Be Continued...

#fluff #christmas #noirsfantasy #12 days of christmas #black reader #michael b jordan #black actors #black men #black romance #black writers #black fem reader #black oc #michael b jordan x reader

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miasmaghoul · 1 year

Note

Rain spitting in Dew’s mouth, there really no subtle way to put it is there

No need for subtlety if you ask me!

Also I made this dom!Rain forcedfem because I am in a Mood(tm) and no one said I couldn't.

It's long! Enjoy!

Dewdrop swallows hard as he stares at himself in the mirror.

Sometimes he doesn't know why he lets Rain do this to him. Lets the water ghoul dress him in satin and lace, lets him paint his face and clip his hair back. It's the most degrading thing in the world, being made to feel like-

"How's my sweet girl doing?" Rain's lilting voice drifts through the door. Dew's dick throbs in his panties, a frission of combined excitement and shame skittering down his spine. Oh, right. That's why.

"Almost done," he huffs, palming himself through the soft fabric. His face is bright red in the mirror, and it matches Rain's choice of outfit for the night. A lacy red bralette and matching garter belt, red fishnets and an embarrassingly small pair of white satin panties. He's barely half hard, but Dew can see every bit of the way his cock is filling out. There's already a damp spot forming at the front, the satin practically see through.

He's gotten better at doing his makeup. The wings of eyeliner almost match, and there's only a couple little smudges of mascara on his eyelids. The lipstick Rain had chosen for tonight is baby pink and glossy, shining in the too-bright light of the hotel bathroom. Dew can't stop making ridiculous faces at himself to see it glint. His hair is tied back in a loose tail, as he was instructed. Nothing fancy tonight. Rain must have plans to fuck it up. Dew shivers at the thought.

There's one more piece to the outfit though, and for some reason it was the one Dew was stuck on.

"Don't make me wait, baby," Rain coos, and Dew whimpers under his breath.

It's just a necklace. That's all. He's worn them before when they play like this. It's no big deal. Just jewelry. Nothing more, Dew tells himself. But his hands still shake as he stares at it.

A length of red ribbon, smooth and satiny. No closure, intended to be tied around his neck. That part was fine. He was mostly struggling with the gold hoop at the center of it. The one that had the word 'SLUT' dangling from it in sparkling charms. "Bought it special, just for you," Rain had whispered in his ear, "I think it's perfect for you."

Dew turns from the mirror, takes a deep breath and ties the collar around his neck just tight enough that it takes effort to swallow. Rain will like that. He steps out of the bathroom, fingering the letters that sit at the hollow of his throat.

Dew has to give his eyes a moment to adjust - the room is dark, lit only by the ambient light filtering in through the open curtains. They're on a higher floor and Dewdrop can see stars speckling the night sky. Rain clicks on a lamp and Dew looks over at him.

"Look at you," Rain purrs. He sits across the room in a plush armchair, legs crossed, head tilted. Smirking as he sips from one of the wine glasses on the table. His icy blue eyes flash in the warm lamplight and Dew feels himself shiver. "My beautiful girl."

Dew groans and nods. Rain uncrosses his legs and pats his knee, canting his head. Dewdrop pads over and perches himself in Rain's lap, hoping the low light hides how flushed he is. No matter how many times they do this, the initiation is the hardest part. But soon Rain will have him floating and absent, and Dew knows his suffering will be well worth it.

"You like your present, princess?" Rain murmurs, setting his drink down. His fingers ghost over Dew's sharp collar bone, fiddling with the letters and making them clink together. Dew swallows and gives a stilted nod, breaths already starting to come quicker. Rain chuckles, leaning in to nose at the soft skin behind Dew's ear. "Use your words," he says, flicking his tongue over the lobe.

"Y-yes," Dew rasps. It's not entirely true, but he hopes Rain doesn't hear his hesitance. The ribbon is tight around his throat. That part, at least, he does like.

"Tell the truth, sweetheart," Rain says, nipping the shell of his ear with a fang. His fingers slip beneath the ribbon, tugging it even tighter. "Good girls don't tell lies."

Dew makes a strangled sound as his cock kicks against the satin. He nods fervently, licking at his lips. He wants to say yes, wants to tell Rain he means it, but the words stick in his throat. Rain tuts at him, and Dewdrop is immediately disappointed in himself.

"Kneel," Rain instructs, tugging at Dew's ponytail. He slides from the taller ghoul's lap with a whimper, looking up at him with sad eyes. He doesn't want Rain to be upset with him. He wants to be his good girl. Always. Rain runs his thumb along Dew's jaw. "You look so pretty down there. Open up for me, gorgeous."

Dew does without argument, tilting his head back when Rain tucks two fingers under his chin. He expects them to slip between his lips, for Rain to make him suck them, and Dew sighs at the loss of Rain's touch when he pulls back instead. He reaches for his wine glass and Dew swallows with his mouth open, an odd, wet sound.

"Thirsty, hmm?" It's not a real question, and Dew doesn't respond. He simply watches, mouth watering as Rain's tongue glides over the rim of the glass. The crimson liquid flows over his lips, dark and decadent, and Dew has to grip at his garters to keep his hands from shaking.

Rain puts the glass down and leans over, smiling. He slides two fingers into the collar again and Dew lets himself be pulled forward, his breaths coming faster and faster. Rain's other hand grips at his jaw once they're nose-to-nose, and Dew feels his eyes glaze over.

Rain opens his mouth and lets the wine pour free. It flows over Dew's tongue in warm rivulets, sharp and smooth, berries and oak. Tinged with petrichor. He keeps his throat closed, lets it pool at the back of his mouth as he shivers. Rain is staring into his eyes and Dew wants to get lost in them. Rain pulls back once the last drops have fallen from his tongue, but his grip on Dewdrop's jaw keeps him from swallowing.

"One more thing," he says, voice edged with something dark.

Rain spits into his already filled mouth, and Dewdrop feels like he's drowning. Rain releases his grip and Dew swallows greedily, panting hard. His body is electric, the edges of his mind going wonderfully fuzzy already.

"Tell me what you are, babydoll." Rain's fingers tug at the ribbon again, and Dew is only too happy to say what he wants to hear.

"I'm...I'm your slut," he slurs, feeling the wet spot on his straining panties grow.

"Good girl," Rain breathes, and Dew thinks he's never been so happy to degrade himself. Rain leans in and licks a droplet of splashed wine from Dewdrop's painted lip. "Now let me treat you like one."

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain/dewdrop #dom!rain #sub!dewdrop

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michelleleewise · 2 years

Note

I have another request!

Loki x Female Plus size reader

Maybe some angst after a proposal where the reader distances herself from Loki because she’s feeling, or someone made her feel, less than enough and too much at the same time. She’s been convinced he might wake up some day and realize he could have had someone else that’s prettier and smaller. Fluff or something mildly spicy to fix it up though! Its just something that has always ran through my mind when I’m feeling low on the self esteem side of things…

Feel free to change whatever!

I love this! Thank you so much for sending it to me!! I really really hope you like it!! 💚💚💚💚

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enough

Pairing: Loki x plus-size readed

Warnings: self esteem issues, self deprecating behavior, angst to fluff, bit of crying, sadness, happy ending of course

Summary: Loki quickly became one of the most popular avengers, having redeemed himself, saving countless lives. When he proposed, you were the happiest woman alive, but you had a hard time not letting those voices get to you.

You sat behind the counter looking at your ring. The emerald always seemed to shine brighter under the florescent lights. You smiled, remembering the night Loki proposed, seeing the God as nervous as a school girl warming your heart. "Hey y/n, your boy toy is here." You heard Susie as you looked up, seeing Loki making his way into the bookstore, a crowd of women flocking behind him as he smiled. He always told you how unusual the attention felt, and you always kissed him and told him he deserved it.

"So tell me, it doesn't bother you that all those women follow him around?" She asked leaning on the counter. "No, why would it?" You asked watching them. "Because y/n, look at them, they would do literally anything to snag him, and they're all gorgeous." She said sighing. "Well no, I know Loki is mine, and I'm his." You said looking at her. "Well, I don't see a city of men following you around" She said as you looked down. "Sorry. I didn't mean...."She started "No it's fine, your right. I honestly don't even know why he's with me." You whispered as she rubbed your arm. "Because your kind, and sweet, and loving, and you are very pretty." She smiled as you nodded.

"Darling, sorry I'm late." You heard as Loki came around the counter hugging you as you squeezed his middle. "Everything alright?" He asked looking down at you "yes, now that your here." You smiled as he leaned down kissing you. "My brother asked if we wanted to join him for lunch, I told him I would ask you." He smiled. "I would love to." You said grabbing your bag, not letting go of his hand as you both walked out of the store.

"Loki, y/n, over here." You heard Thor say as he waved. Holding Loki's arm you walked to the table sitting down. "Were you mobbed again brother? I can't even make it down the street anymore." Thor laughed as you sat playing with Loki's fingers. You loved touching him, it was your love language, if you were around him, you were touching him. "Yes, I've never had people throw themselves at me like this before. I may just teleport everywhere from now on." They both laughed. "And y/n, how are you?" Thor asked as you smiled "oh I'm good, just a long day at work." You sighed lacing your fingers with Loki's.

"You two could almost be the same person." Thor laughed looking at you "what do you mean?" You smiled "whenever you two are together, it's hard to tell where you end and he begins." He laughed again as you giggled nervously seeing Loki look down, shifting in his seat. Did he not like you touching him so much? You thought he did. Loki walked you back to work where you spent the rest of the day overthinking your conversation with Thor. Was Loki just humoring you? Were you irritating him. "Hey Susie, you've seen me and Loki together, do you think I....touch him alot?" You asked as your thoughts began to spiral. "Well, you do have your hands on him alot, but who wouldn't." She laughed "He just doesn't seem like a touchy kinda guy to me." She shrugged walking off.

Your thoughts were all over the place. Maybe he didn't like it? Why hadn't he said anything? Were you being too much? Your mind looping over and over. "Hey look, it's your man." Susie said bringing her phone over, seeing Loki being filmed by someone, surrounded by women on the street, wearing that perfect smile of his. You heard several of them ask him out, others asking for just a night with him as you slowly deflated. "I'm not good enough for him am i?" You whispered as Susie looked at you "why would you say that?" She asked. "That's why. Look at them." You said pointing at her phone as a woman ran her fingers up his chest. "Y/n, your amazing, their just...." She started "perfect." You whispered. "I'm gonna head home, I'll see you tomorrow ok." You said walking out.

You got home, pulling your phone out seeing Loki had tried calling, you chose not to call him back deciding to shower. You sat on the couch as your phone dinged. Looking at it, it was a news story, the title slapping you in the face "Her......Really Loki?" Scrolling down seeing pictures from the restaurant the night he proposed, him kneeling in front of you. The first line of the article reading "He could have anyone, and he chose that.." made you throw your phone as tears streamed down your face. You decided to go to bed, picking your phone up as Loki called again....deciding it was best not to answer. You always felt like you weren't good enough for him, not pretty enough, or skinny enough, but you pushed those thoughts away everytime he told you he loved you, everytime he hugged you, kissed you. But the more attention he garnered from every woman in the city, you knew he would find someone better, more attractive, and your deepest fear would come to life, the day he realized your weren't enough for him.

You spent the next few days ignoring your phone. Loki had called several times, asking you to call him back, or message him, but you hadn't. He tried to come into the shop a few times, but you went to the back before he saw you, his mob of women distracting him. You sat on your couch, turning the ring he gave you in your hand. You hadn't spoken to him in days and it was killing you, but maybe if you let him go he could find someone worthy of him.

You heard a knock on the door, setting the ring on the table you went and opened it, seeing Loki standing there, had he been crying? "Y/n, why won't you talk to me? What have I done?" He asked as he looked at you, his eyes red and hair a mess. "Loki, I just...it's not you its..." you sighed looking down. "W..where is your ring?" He asked stepping closer. "It's on the table, i.." You started as he sunk to his knees, hugging your middle. "Love, whatever I've done, please tell me. I can't lose you." He said against your stomach as you pushed his hair back, seeing his shoulders shake slightly.

"It's not you Loki, you haven't done anything." You sighed looking at him. "Then what is it? Tell me please, I'll do anything." He said looking up at you. "Come inside and sit down." You said as he got up, sitting on the couch eyeing your ring. "D...do you not wish to marry me?" He asked quietly. "No, no I do! Its just, I'm not good enough for you Loki." You said sitting down. "Who said that!?" He demanded as his head snapped up. "Everyone Loki! Do you not see the news stories, and what people say about me!?" You yelled as your eyes burned. "No, I don't pay attention to those." He said. You grabbed your phone, pulling up the article you read "this....this is disgusting." He said setting the phone down.

"And its the beautiful women who follow you around, and Thor saying I touch you all the time and you didn't say anything, and just.....what if you wake up one day regretting me when you could have had someone better..... prettier." You said as you fidgeted with your hands as he scooted closer. "Darling, I will never, for the rest of my days, ever regret meeting you, loving you, and making you my wife." He said picking up the ring. "I wish you could see what I see when I look at you." He said twirling the ring around.

"W..what do you see?" You asked looking at him. "I see the most beautiful woman in all the realms, your kindness knows no limits, you give love in bounds, you have supported me and stood by my side through becoming an avenger and being here on Midgard, you have given me a reason to smile, to laugh. You give me a reason to look forward to waking up. Seeing your beautiful face smiling at me has given me a reason to try to be the best man that I can be, for you." He smiled cupping your cheek as tears streamed down your face. "I don't want anyone else, I never will. You own me y/n, no matter how I have tried to fight it, I am yours, and I always will be." He said, grabbing your hand sliding the ring on your finger. "L...loki....i.....I love you so much." You sobbed as he grabbed your hand.

"And the reason I didn't say anything with Thor is because I knew he was teasing me, which he enjoys doing." He laughed. "I never want you to not touch me, these hands hold so much love and care." He said holding your hands to his chest. "Please, never stop." He smiled. "I...I won't, I promise." You sniffled. "Y/n, will you still be my wife, please?" He asked looking at you as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, him holding you to him. "Of course I will, I love you Loki and I always will." You sobbed into his neck as he buried his face in your hair "and I will love you forever my sweet girl." He breathed holding you tight. "You've made me the happiest woman alive." You said holding him. "Not as happy as I my love." He said, never wanting to let you go.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

*if you want tagged, or added to my permanent taglist let me know!! I'll be happy to add you!!! 😁💚

@vbecker10 @lokiprompts @lokisninerealms @lulubelle814 @sinsandguilt @commanding-officer @mcufan72 @midnights-ramblings @daggers-and-mischief @chickencouncilrep @buttercupbestie @cabingrlandrandomcrap @xorpsbane @lonadane

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ecstacy-appleofmyeye · 17 days

Text

< go back

TW: nightmares, slight animal gore, puking

if any of those make you uncomfortable, stop reading. im not responsible for the works you consume

...

They return to the hostel around 7pm. The sun is still up, blinding their view.

The walk back to is quiet, completely quiet (Nico still finds it off–putting, though not so surprising anymore), but Nico blames it on their mutual exhaustion, rather than the tension that seems to follow them. They don't mind, rather finding the silence as a time for their mind to calm down. Nico's thoughts have been a mess these few days, the sudden leave from home not making them any better, not that staying would. Still, Nico does what any emotionally repressed teenager would do, and buries the thoughts deep in their mind, hoping they'll forget them, eventually.

(They'll conveniently forget all the times this backfired, just so they have a moment of peace.)

Upon entering the small room, [Name] immediately heads to the bathroom to change his clothes. Nico sits on the bed, absentmindedly playing with his hair, twisting and twirling it around their fingers. They decide to change there, pulling off their dirty jeans and putting on much more comfortable pyjama pants. As they were removing their shirt, [Name] comes out of the bathroom, quickly stuttering an apology and turning the other way.

He moves with his back turned to Nico to the windows of their room— which both learnt are actually two huge doors for a miniscule balcony. [Name] opens the curtains a bit. Nico panics.

“What are you doing?” They ask, struggling to put on the clean t–shirt. Can he not see that they're still changing?

“I'm just–” he turns to Nico, heat reaching to his cheeks, and turning away with the speed of light – “I'm sorry! I thought you were done.

Nico grumbles under their breath, frustrated with their shirt, and partially [Name]. No, they have no real reason to be mad at him.

“Are you okay?” [Name's] tone is obviously concerned and worried, and it irritates Nico even more. Why why why, you stupid brain. He's just trying to be nice. Maybe they should some deep breaths to calm down. Yeah, that'll help.

“I'm fine,” they say, brows furrowing. [Name] looks at them with an expression that says ‘not believing that’, and continues to annoy them.

(To be fair, Nico could never be bothered or annoyed by him. He's just too pretty to stay mad at.)

“Dude, you look like a zombie. Or a vampire. That's more believable,” he says, and Nico wants to protest, because how is being a vampire more believable than a zombie? But, they're not going to debate that. Not today.

[Name] adds, “Pale, cold to the touch,” he stops his very useful and informative description of Nico's current state, touching lightly their cheek (which makes them slightly pink, though they'll deny it to their grave). “And, you complained when I opened the curtains, like you'd turn to ashes if the sun hit you.”

(Um, acshually, they panicked for a different reason, thank you very much, so it doesn't count.)

“You're insufferable,” Nico bemoans, pulling their shirt all the way down, past their hips— and its original length —like they're trying to rip it apart. “If I was a vampire, you'd be my first victim.”

“Hmm. Subject denies the allegations. Interesting.”

“[Name], I swear to any god that's willing to hear me, I will find a way to suck your blood out of your body.”

“Kinky,” [Name] says, trying to muffle the chuckle that escapes him, which turns into uncontrollable laughter. Nico rolls their eyes, playfully smacking him on the head with a pillow. They mutter quietly, ‘You’re so disgusting,’ diving on the bed. As horrendous as it seems, it's really soft and comfortable.

Nico sighs into the pillows, closing their eyes, the orange light of the sunset seeping through the window warming their body. Their nose scrunches when a harsh light hits their face. They open their eyes, propping their head on their hand, seeing [Name] holding his camera.

“Shit–... The flash wasn't supposed to be on…” he mumbles.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You looked nice. Photographable, even.”

“... And you look like a creep, just standing there,” Nico huffs, face falling back on the pillows. [Name] pouts and flips them off, going to lay on the right side of the bed. Nico rolls on their back, hand clasped behind their head, while [Name] has his resting on his stomach.

The only sound in the room is Nico and [Name's] breaths, the occasional creak from the springs of the bed when either shifted to get more comfortable. Nico wants to say something, and they guess [Name] does too. Neither of them are brave enough to break the silence first. Nico doesn't want to give [Name] the satisfaction of speaking first, like it's a competition to see who's more of a coward between them. They sigh.

“Wanna play UNO?” Nico asks. [Name] gets up with a groan and pulls from his backpack and throws the UNO cards at Nico, who catches them easily. They start shuffling the cards as best as they could while [Name] shifts on the bed.

With seven cards on his hand, [Name] places the first card, a 3 green on top of a 6 green. Nico looks at their cards, placing down a 3 blue. [Name] continues with a 5, and then Nico with an 8. [Name] groans, being the first to draw a card from the pile. Nico smirks as they place down an 8 green, and the smirk is quickly turned into a scowl when [Name] places a green skin, paired with a +2. They huff, pulling two cards, and then using a 4 green, [Name] a 2, Nico a blue 2. He smirks, placing down a +2 blue. Nico draws two more cards. They use a 7 blue, [Name] a 9, calling UNO. They click their tongue as they place a 4. [Name] looks up from his cards, a devilish smirk on his face as he uses his last card, a 1 blue, winning the game.

Nico groans. “Fuck you,” they say, tidying and shuffling the cards for another round.

[Name] giggles, rocking his body sideways in a small victory dance. “Sorry, Nico. Someone had to humble you.”

“Oh, really?” They raise an eyebrow, challenging.

“Yes, really.”

“I'll make you eat my dust, [Surname].”

“I'd like to see you try, di Angelo.”

Nico loses. Two times. It's embarrassing, really. Still, they think it's worth it the blow on their ego when [Name's] so happy and smiling so bright he could put the sun to shame.

They don't remember when was the last time he smiled like that. Before the night on the train, for sure. As Nico unearths more of their memories, they remember that [Name's] been gloomy even before that, and they've, along with Will and Hazel, been itching to ask him about it, but it never came up in a conversation, or he expertly avoided any questions.

As much as Nico knows they should give [Name] time, they think it'd be better for him to talk about it— if all the lecturers Hazel gave them about opening up and not bottling your feelings are of any worth after all.

But then again, they'd be a huge hypocrite. You win some you lose some, Nico guesses. All of this… it can't be a sudden idea [Name] had, right? There's no way. He seems so… calm, so ready, as if he'd been preparing to leave. Nico doesn't know what to do with that thought. They leave it be.

A question worms in their head, “How much money do we even have?”

[Name] stills. He thinks for a while, counting with his fingers. “I have… around 820 dollars and some change. You?”

“1000 in cash, and a lot in my card.” [Name] hums.

“You should take the money out of your card. It'll make it easier to track us if you use it.”

Nico nods. “Alright. I'll do that tomorrow morning, when we leave.”

“Okay.”

Both play quietly again. Nico wants to grab [Name] by the shoulders and— kiss him —shake some sense into him. For the love of everything that's dear, [Name], you really are pushing the limits to Nico's neverending— or so they claim —patience.

“I think we should start planning now for tomorrow.”

“You just want to because you're losing, di Angelo.” [Name] teases them.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night,” they roll their eyes. They place down their last card. Ha, in your face, [Name]. 3-1. They sigh.

Nico pulls out their phone— a secret, second phone they bought and paid with their own money. For just in case —looking at tickets for Frankfort, Kentucky.

“They're sold out.” They say.

“Oh, great. Should we find another destination altogether?” [Name] asks.

Nico shrugs. “I don't mind. I'm just following along. This is your, um. Trip.”

[Name] shifts, looking down on his lap. “Right,” he mumbles. A beat of silence. Nico can hear people from the other rooms talking and laughing. Good job, Nico, way to ruin the mood.

“How about… Georgia? Atlanta, specifically.”

“Are. Are you just naming random states?” A small smile of disbelief and amusement dances on their lips. This dork.

“Shush,” [Name] puts his pointer finger on Nico's lips. “Yes or no?” Nico pushes his hand away. They shrug, “Sure.”

“Atlanta it is.”

Both spend an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to find the cheapest train/bus (Nico isn't picky) to Atlanta. Now Nico knows the pain and torture that is planning for trips. They hate it. It's so frustrating for no reason! They really wish to never do this again. They get tickets for a 16 hour drive in a bus, at 9pm tomorrow from Union Station. [Name] sets an alarm for the next at 9pm, tidying his cards and tucking himself under the bedsheets. Nico stays up for a while longer, tidying up the room for tomorrow. They try not to make too much noise, and fail, when they trip on the bedside table. [Name] shifts on the bed, turning to Nico's direction.

“Why are you still up?” He asks, half of his words muffled by the pillow and blanket that's over his head. “Come sleep,” he pats on the empty side of the bed.

“Yes yes, let me tidy a bit first.” At that, [Name] falls silent again. Nico looks up at him, greeted by his calm expression, sleeping peacefully. Nico finishes moving their clothes in their backpack, trying to get under the covers without disturbing [Name]. They get comfortable on the bed, trying to keep their distance from him.

It's not the first time they've slept in the same bed as [Name]. They used to have sleepovers all the time with Bianca when they were younger. Nico and Bianca’s shared room only had two beds for them, so both had to compromise and let [Name] sleep in either bed. Usually, he slept with Bianca, but sometimes he'd share a bed with Nico. Still, this feels more… intimate to Nico, since it's just the two of them. Ultimately, they decide not to dwell further in their thoughts, they wouldn't sleep at all if they did so. They turn off the lamp at their bedside table, closing their eyes.

At first, they'd been having a nice dream, not that they remember much from it, they never do. Only that it made them happy. There was a weird feeling in Nico's stomach, one that wouldn't let them sleep any more. They force themselves to wake up.

When they wake, they're in the hospital, their clothes soaked. The wetness of their clothes makes them mad, they want to rip them off and tear them apart. Nico hates how it feels on his skin. They decide that waiting is no use, and get up, right hand on the wall— the wall is painted white, with a blue stripe in the middle. They walk outside, in a back alley, lighting up a cigarette.

As they walk, they find a small, orange cat. It lays unmoving on the cold floor, its fur wet and sticking to its malnourished body. Nico hates to think that they could end up like that. Still, they take a puff and exhale, the smoke dancing above their head as it disappears in the night sky. It's really beautiful, in a weird, morbid way, that Nico can't help but romanticize. Hm. Weird thoughts they're having today.

Upon closer inspection, Nico notices a part of its ear is missing, and one of its eyes, the right one, has popped out of its skull, a black void in the space it used to be. The eyeball is attached to the optic nerve, still connected with the animal’s brain. Blood pools under the cat's head, spilling from its eye. The blood is fresh, so is the smell surrounding it.

Nico grimaces, a sick feeling in their guts and stomach, that's traveled all the way to their esophagus, to their mouth. They gag, their hand immediately flying to their mouth. They really don't want to deal with this right now, in a back alley. Still, it's what they deserve, Nico guesses.

Nico tries to swallow away the feeling, to no avail. They turn the other way, fist on the wall to keep their balance, the cigarette long forgotten. They feel their eyes water and their throat pushing their diner out. Their throat itches, skin turning red when they claw it with their nails to stop it.

They don't remember when exactly they woke up, or how they ended in the toilet, one hand desperately smothering their bangs away from their face.

They pull their hair in a ponytail, hand gripping porcelain toilet tank. Tears fell from their eyes as the familiar burn in their throat, the disgusting smell and taste of everything they ate today, came, spilling in the bowl of the toilet. Nico sucks in a shaky breath, their lips quivering, before they puke again.

Tears spill along with puke. Nico hates this feeling of choking, the horrid smell and aftertaste it leaves in their mouth, how their throat burns and itches. How their stomach is empty, yet even the smell of foods make them feel like puking their guts out again.

Nico's chest rises and falls. They swallow, immediately regretting that decision. They flush the toilet, moving to the sink. Nico looks themselves in the mirror; a complete mess, with their hair sticking out in every place, even when it's in a ponytail, their eyes bloodshot from crying, and the bags under them the same colour as their irises. Their olive skin is almost pale again, sticky to the touch, sweaty. Their cheeks seem to be the only part of them that stayed the same, since their lips are red, covered in spit and saliva.

They wash their face throughout, brushing their teeth four times before they feel clean again. Nico redoes the ponytail, feeling hot and constricted. They change to a new shirt, the old one soaked with sweat. They try to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb [Name] further. It fails, obviously, cursing the gods for the stupid luck they bestowed them.

“Hey…” [Name] mumbles. His voice is still groggy from sleeping, and his eyes half–closed, trying to adjust to the harsh light of the bathroom lights. Nico turns and closes them.

“Sorry for waking you up.”

“Are you alright?”

They don't answer. [Name] sighs.

“C’mon, come here,” he pats next to him. Nico sits, albeit a bit stiff, his hands fidgeting with his shirt.

“Do you want a hug?” Nico nods. [Name's] arms slowly wrap around their waist, bringing them closer. They reluctantly hug his torso, burying their face in the crook of his neck. He rubs circles on their back, the only sound in the dark room being the rustles of their shirt and their breaths.

Nico relaxes at the touch. They remember that Bianca did the same when they were having nightmares and meltdowns back then. They think that she would've teased them relentlessly, but luckily for her, they have Hazel now to fulfill the job. Right. Hazel. They left her behind. No note, message, not even a text. They feel even more shitty now. Wow, thanks brain, you're so useful sometimes. Nico feels like a shitty older sibling, leaving Hazel behind, alone.

“You're thinking very loud.” [Name] snaps them out of their thoughts. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“... Not really.”

“Okay. Let's go to sleep?” Nico hums in agreement, letting themselves be dragged by [Name] onto the bed again. He keeps them close with enough distance so they don't feel sufficient. [Name] holds their hand, still, interlocking their fingers together.

“Try to get some sleep.”

“You too.”

“Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight.”

#the-tower's-archive #why. why did this take so long to write 😭#nico di angelo #nico di angelo x male reader #non binary nico di angelo #transmasc reader #trans man reader #nico di angelo x reader

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blorbocedes · 2 years

Text

"Georgie, do you know you're a robot?" Alex says casually, but the way he's assessing George is anything but.

"Ha-ha." George says with a straight face. It's not like Alex to resort to the lowest common denominator jokes, George's heard it a thousand times, he's awkward, stilted, Pinocchio, robot. Alex usually aims deeper with his casual insults and leave George up at night discovering he has a new insecurity now. Once it was 'having a side profile that was in the reject pile for Roman coins.'

"No, really." The strangest thing is Alex sounds dead serious, no upturned quirk of his lips George knows is a giveaway when he's playing a joke. "Well. You have an override that deflects self actualisation. But robots aren't supposed to fall in love either, and you overrode that." Alex scrutinises him, voice calm.

"You're not being funny, Alex." George retorts, rubbing his palms against his thighs. It's weird, he can't see any of Alex's tells, as if overnight he became an excellent liar. What else has he lied about straightlaced like this, and George had no clue? He'd always prided himself on knowing Alex, better than anyone. It makes a panicky feeling bubble up, he doesn't like thinking of Alex intentionally being duplicitous; it's paranoid, it's unbecoming.

"Come on. Aren't there things that don't add up?" Alex urges gently, takes his hands, warm against his, which are slightly sweaty. He runs a thumb over George's pulse and George can feel it thudding. George looks up at Alex, confused why he's doing this. He's barely actually registered the consideration, too ridiculous to even think about, but rather why Alex is bringing it up. Is it his roundabout way of telling George he's robotic? They're going through the motions? He had thought things were going fine. Are they not adding up anymore?

It's a little bit insecure to say, 'are you breaking up with me?' at your boyfriend calling you a robot.

"Why are you saying that?" George asks, and it sounds more pathetic than he meant it. Would a robot be this emotional, Albon? A treacherous thought in his head betrays him, that of course he would be programmed to feel them.

"Nevermind." Alex sighs, looking disappointed. George hates disappointing Alex but he doesn't know -- should he have played along? Maybe Alex is bored of his robotic boyfriend who can't play along with a joke.

"I'm sorry." George blurts out.

Alex shakes his head, smiling now, squeezing George's hand one before letting go. "Got you. I'm sorry, it was a bad joke." His hands feel awfully cold now.

It's what George wanted to hear but now Alex sounds insincere, like he's trying to cover something up -- the Alex he knows how to read. Alex presses a kiss against his temple in apology, George's heart lurches the way it always does when Alex is this close to him.

"Seriously, don't even think about it."

George thinks about it.

He thinks about it a lot, at how honest Alex had looked in his assertions. He's in the bathroom, washing his face, Alex is in their bedroom putting something on the telly. His boyfriend. Why would Alex be dating a... not a real person, George wonders hysterically, staring at the mirror like his face holds the answers.

He frowns. If Alex was a robot, but he was still Alex, George would still be with him; no questions asked. They've already gone over the worm question, George would build a terrarium with plenty of enrichment.

Staring at his own reflection until his own face started looking strange to him. Too unnervingly blueish silver eyes, a chin that juts out too much, pores around his nose, patch of redness around his neck. All these little imperfections that pile on, why would someone create something and then give it flaws? That seemed antithetical. He sprayed water over his face -- doesn't short circuit like an iPhone charger because he's a real boy.

Things that don't add up... Alex had said. Everything added up, he had a pretty average childhood like everyone else, mum dad sister and a dog. University. Alex. Alex. Alex. It was all accounted for.

'Aren't supposed to fall in love either...'

George can't remember falling in love with Alex. He frowns. He has a million memories of him, all catalogued. From the smallest micro-expression change, to how his eyes light up when he sees a cat or how he groans before coming, shivering together when they got caught in the rain, their first real fight during a road trip and Alex's casual 'we'll wing it' and finding the motel they were supposed to stay at was booked finally getting to George's need for structure, apologies in the form of convenience store snacks and hooking up in Alex's shitty Toyota. All of those are real, tangible experiences. There is life before Alex but he doesn't put too much stock into it. There's life after Alex but George doesn't think about it, that's barely living.

There's a razor, beside all of Alex's hair dye products. George is relatively hairless, something Alex has harmlessly made fun of many times -- not being able to grow any facial hair. He's never dyed his hair either, in fact altering his appearance had never been something he'd considered, even as Alex went from red to blonde to brown; gorgeous in all. No tattoos, no piercings, not even a single scar from a scrappy childhood fight; completely unblemished, unchanged. Maybe it's arrogance, he knew he was perceived as handsome -- Alex certainly found him so, so why change what works already? He chalked it off to being conservative in his fashion sense, and risk averse to never offend anyone to get in a fight, rather than any conscious decision making to avoid it.

How's this for impulse decision making? George thinks, taking the razor and swiping his against dried cheek. He'd have a tiny scar, no more unblemished and perfect. A hysterical laugh bubbles in his chest if a copper asks what happened, Officer I gave myself an uppercut because my boyfriend played a cruel joke and I had to confirm my morality, no, please don't take him away.

He swipes it before he can think of why he shouldn't, a dozen reasons why forming an excel pros and cons list in his mind with the pros side blank. A frantic voice in his head saying he's being irrational, that nothing's going to come out of this and he's going to be feel real stupid. He's never hurt himself on purpose before. Alex is going to think he's such an idiot.

It stings.

George waits for the drop of blood.

Instead, he watches as his skin instantly heals itself where George had cut it, completely disappearing, leaving it smooth and unmarked.

"Bake-off's on, get in here already." Alex calls from their bedroom.

#galex #robot gr au #cw: self harm to confirm he's a real boy and not a bunch of wires #f1 rpf #my fics #this isn't Good but it came to me fully formed and I'm stuck in traffic #robot au

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optiwashere · 4 months

Note

Moar Asheera image 👉👈?

🥺

Well, I decided to start a very fast Asheera run through with some mods. Basically "play this game in the easiest possible way so I can focus entirely on Asheera's feelings about the companions' reactions and motivations" for some writerly inspiration. Plus, I've been feeling the need to re-experience everything and get some Act 1 and 2 screenshots/saves.

I know there's some nasty quest item related bugs right now, but I completely avoided any sort of bugs in my first playthrough so fingers crossed!

Anyways, where was I? Ah yes.

Nautiloid business. Freed Shadowheart. Woke up on the beach, etc.

I'm trying to focus on roleplaying Asheera here, and she was definitely tempted to look at the artefact but this Shadowheart - what a strange name, Asheera would think - knew a fair bit on the nautiloid. So, awake she goes. They naturally decided to group up for safety in numbers. Shadowheart's cagey about a lot of things, but now's not the time to think about it.

Next, the pair had a run-in with a few intellect devourers, but they were no problem. A few sword slashes and mace hits and they were good as dead.

Also, this is where I mention that I cheated in a bunch of gear because I really don't want to interact with anything but the companions, a few NPCs (like Rolan) and the main quest. I plan on doing this run in a few big sessions over a weekend or two!

When it comes to Gale, Asheera's first impression is that he's a strange, strange man. She thinks he needs to just get to the point sometimes. She of course said #2 here. (Again, pay no mind to the get up lmao)

But a wizard is a fine companion on a dangerous journey, even if he's a bit odd. Then again, aren't all wizards?

Up next, they had a little run-in with the warrior from the nautiloid. How curious, she's all stranded up in this cage? It's no matter, Asheera convinces a pair of tieflings to go away so that she can talk to this woman again. She's even more knowledgeable about the mind flayers than Gale or Shadowheart it seems.

Asheera is naturally convinced of a cure and committed to finding one, which immediately makes Lae'zel warm up to her. Even just a little. (Side note: I hate Lae'zel's new dismissal to camp dialogue. Why is she soft right away?)

Side note pt. deux: Shadowheart is starting to regret trusting Asheera after this whole... let Lae'zel out thing. She says she trusts Asheera, but I think at this point she's starting to reassess things.

The group follows the tieflings' directions to the camp they called out only to find a band of adventurers being attacked by goblinoids. They call out a war cry to "the Absolute," whatever that is. After they're dispatched, the party meets another friendly tadpoled face.

Wyll is familiar to Asheera because of his moniker, and it's nice to put a face to the name. It's also a bit odd to find out someone she considers a real Hero is a fair bit younger than her. He's teaching a young tiefling how to distract someone in a fight long enough to run away, and Asheera thinks that it's A) super wholesome and B) clever to focus on the child's ability to confuse and confound if things ever got to be that bad.

Also, Asheera is beginning to see all these refugees and after talking to them she realizes they're likely from Elturel. As a Baldurian, she should be a bit frazzled by them. Some part of her probably is a bit annoyed to be helping people from what is essentially the rival school equivalent. But seeing children potentially in danger tempers that a fair bit.

Side note: Asheera laughed at this line from Shadowheart (there's a couple very fun, jokey lines Asheera says this early on for sure)

Asheera decides it's time to talk to the leaders of this place, and she gets wrapped in a whole thing with some girl named Arabella (side note: seeing her with her parents again legit almost made me cry)

I think this is a great time to talk about the fact that I'm using an Approval Dialogue mod. I want to see options when they conflict with companions' approvals and what the weighting implies. This won't always work since I'm going with my "canon" paths for everyone again, but it's something that I want to be able to see and think about from time to time.

This one where you talk to Kagha comes up after you can persuade her to let Arabella go (+1 to a bunch of approvals, but for right now I want to focus on Shadowheart for obvious reasons)

She has nothing to say about 1 or 3, but she gets a huge boost from 2. That's definitely the Sharran in her speaking through, but I do think part of it is her current mindset of pure survival instinct. If it was strictly "I'm a big evil Sharran" rather than whatever fucked up cocktail her brain is at this moment in the game, I think she would have some disapproval for 1 and IMO she might even enjoy 3 a little bit. But she doesn't necessarily mind 1 in particular, which is what Asheera says. It's a bit surprising to Asheera that Shadowheart doesn't have a comment on that. Worth noting for our half-orc.

She gets her hand pain here for the first time, but when Asheera asks about it the topic is stonewalled pretty quickly. Same with Shadowheart recognizing Dark Justiciars in one of the druids' wall murals. Fair enough. Asheera's a fair bit suspicious at this point, but they've got a unified goal and a paladin can cross that bridge when she comes to it.

Oh, and I got the wolf saving throw here which I didn't expect her to fail! It was fun having Asheera and Shadowheart talk about that so quickly. They're still a bit wary of each other, it's after all only the first (second?) day that they've even known each other. I think that Asheera would hear someone ask for comfort in a deep-seated fear and she would offer the simplest thing she can: protection. Shadowheart likely just sees it as a simple kindness given the way she words this, but I think it's very telling that just being... barely nice to her warms her to Asheera so quickly.

This is where Shadowheart's internal calculus shifts back to trusting Asheera again. Maybe she's a bit foolish about trusting Lae'zel, but there are worse people to have as a de facto leader in a situation like this.

(Also, I caught Asheera blinking lmao)

Summed up, Asheera's thoughts so far...

If this ceremorphosis is so deadly and swift, why are they all still alive?

The refugees need her help, and she's going to drag half this party into helping them if she has to.

Helping Elturians is not what she expected to be doing, but she also didn't expect to have a tadpole crammed in her brain so. You know.

Shadowheart is curious, secretive, and more than a little untrustworthy. She also approves of helping out the refugee children and seems a bit surprised to be offered basic kindness. So there's definitely more to her than the cold exterior shows, but Asheera can't quite figure it out yet. It could all be a façade. Asheera also has a thing for elven women with a little bite and wit.

Gale is an odd man with useful talents. He's been all right so far, being it's barely been a few hours, but of course a wizard would know to hide any ulterior motives right away. Asheera's suspicious of him and his kind demeanor.

Wyll and Lae'zel are the two that Asheera finds refreshing because it's clear what they want. Wyll wants to kill some devil, and Lae'zel is blunt about curing the parasite and going back to her people. They're easier than Gale and Shadowheart, even if Asheera is very lukewarm about Lae'zel. Wyll's a legend though, so she's just hoping this isn't a "don't meet your heroes" type situation.

Anyways, it was late when I decided to do this and I have other plans for the night. Next time, meeting Karlach and vampire boy and who knows what other fun moments! Toodles.

#hey you can ask me things!#oc: asheera #asheera replay posts #bg3 is a very easy game to begin with but I figured fuck it and I'm full sending a swift playthru #Hopefully I'll have time to play on the weekends? My Path of Exile fixation has ended for the league so there's time now #I actually had to jump back into an autosave for the Lae'zel screenshots because I'm still not used to taking them for myself lmao

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abusivelittlebunny · 1 year

Note

Hey have u seen this??

https://www.tumblr.com/littlemarylil/712509124270751744/this-is-felix-kammerer

This is our Paul bäumer!!! Waoo. I have got so many ideas after seeing this pic. He is so pretty and delicate❤

He didn't know where they got the dress and the wig from; all he knew was that the men around him have been eyeing him restlessly more and more in the last few weeks. They whispered amongst each other too, but never let in Paul to learn what about. But he felt watched, surrounded, like a bird in a cage.

When he was led to the captain's tent and given a bucket of clean water and a bar of half used soap, smelling faintly of chamomiles over the blood and grime and death around him, he almost sobbed in relief, not even questioning why he was the only one given such luxury.

"Clean yourself. Thoroughly." Then the dress and wig was put on the chair by his side, his captain impatient. "Then get into this."

Paul's eyes shifted to the fine material, translucent and elegant; a lady's gown or more like lingerie. He frowned at the wig, first mistaking it for a shawl; it was long, almost his natural hair color if he washed the grease and dirt out of his own. "What for... sir?"

"For the men, what else." His captain scoffed, like this was a rule Paul should have been well aware of. "Entertain them. They're lonely and pent up."

"B-but why me?" He didn't know how he could entertain a crowd, he wasn't well-versed in theater or dancing, and he only ever sung at school, not too well either. "I'm not really good for this sort of thing."

His captain looked his frame over with a judgemental eye. "By the looks of you, you're only good for this sort of thing."

Paul wanted to ask what he meant by that but then his captain was gone and he was left holding onto the bar of soap like it was a shield, his only refuge. He swallowed hard before deeming it better to do as he was told than to be ungrateful. He felt more refreshed with every splash of water, even his soul felt cleaner by the end of it, like a heavy weight of grime and dirt and fear and rot have been scrubbed off; he almost felt like he was worthy of the dress when he got into it. It fit him remarkably well, maybe a bit too loose at his hips and chest, but at least it was comfortable; not very warm though. He put on the long wig and adjusted it against his scalp with the ribbon it came with; just as he was thinking of how silly he must look, playing dress up like he used to when he was a kid rummaging around in his mother's closet, his captain came back in the tent and stopped shortly by the entrance.

Paul felt truly like a lady, almost gasping and trying to cover himself; he didn't have any underwear below and the dress was practically see through. Suddenly he missed the dirt and grime that stuck to his skin before, obscuring him from the captain's prying eyes.

His captain watched him for far too long to be considered polite before he slightly shook his head as if to clear it and walked over to Paul, looming over him and clearing his throat before commanding, "Sit. Please."

The "please" wasn't necessary, Paul would have done anything asked of him anyway, but the captain seemed bashful from his feminine appearance; he tried to be a gentleman.

Paul gingerly sat back on the chair, careful not to crease his gorgeous dress and looked up at his captain expectantly, who now seemed unable to meet his eyes properly, fidgeting with the box in his hand before getting down on his knees. It felt far too intimate and inappropriate as his captain took him gently by his bare ankle and raised it to rest on his thigh before dipping his handkerchief into the soapy bucket of water and cleaning Paul's feet.

Paul was blushing, he was aware, squirming slightly in his seat as he watched his captain, his gruff, mean, demanding and degrading captain, now wipe his scarred feet clean and rest them on his thighs like they were of a cherished doll's. They did seem tiny in comparison to his captain's bulking frame, his coarse hand able to wrap completely around his small ankles and then some more; he also seemed to enjoy holding them, doing thorough and gentle work of his cleaning before wiping them dry and opening the box by his side with a heavy swallow.

Paul shouldn't have been surprised by the box's content, but he still was, digging his nails into his palms, trying not to make a sound. Stockings. Sheer and light and translucent and lacy at the hem. He was going to put on stockings. Or, well, he wasn't going to do them by himself, the way his captain started bunching them up methodically, before raising his foot by the heel.

Paul pointed his toes and raised his skirt up to his knee without a word, swallowing hard too now, letting his captain roll the peachy powder pink stockings up his shin.

"Put it on my shoulder." His captain breathed, rough and low, and it took a moment for Paul to realize he was talking of his foot. It was embarrassing, the way his skirt slid up his thigh from the angle, and it didn't feel appropriate at all to put his legs over his captain's shoulder, but his brain couldn't think further as those hands caressed up his thigh to roll out the stocking to the very end. Touching him right beneath the dress. His touch lingered, acting like he was smoothing out the lacy seam when he was just fondling the meatiest bit of his thigh. There wasn't much to fondle though, Paul was thin as a paper, but his skin was smooth and soft. Hairless. He didn't have much body hair really, and even what little he had was faint, scarce and blond.

"My captain," Paul whispered when the older man didn't move for a couple long minutes, only groping him beneath his skirt, his gaze transfixed. His captain jolted out of his stupor, clearing his throat before drawing his hands back and reaching for the next stocking.

"On my shoulder, please," his captain slurred as Paul arched his left foot for him, this time his leg pressing against the solid body a bit braver. He felt a bit of confidence pooling in his stomach at the effect he had on the usually stern and gruff man; how polite he became from seeing Paul dressed as a girl, how bashful. He could feel him swallow as his ankle brushed against the side of his neck, the way he shivered as his shin slid along his shoulder the higher he pushed the stockings.

Retreating his legs from his shoulders when his captain was done felt strangely disappointing, but then he got given pretty black shoes, women's of course, narrow and a bit too small with heels. His captain adjusted the clasp on them and then put his feet down to rest them on his thighs, not letting his shoes touch the ground.

"Don't dirty them." His captain grumbled under his mustache, his cheeks red like he just drank a whole bottle of liquor, giving Paul's ankles a little rub before reaching in his breast pocket and producing a small tin jar. "Here, use it."

Paul took the tin, marveling at the rose drawn on the lid and before he could ask what it was, he read the label, faint and cursive beneath the flower: Rouge.

"I don't have a mirror." Paul said quietly, but his captain was already reaching back into his pocket to produce a small shaving mirror quickly. It had a crack on one side, but it was still usable. "Thank you, sir."

"Of course," his captain said quickly before he could stop himself, biting his lip after in embarrassment for treating Paul like an actual lady. "Get on with it quick." He added with a cough to save his ego.

Paul opened the tin and scooped a little bit of the rosy pink cream on his middle finger, smearing it on his lips once he got a good look at himself in the mirror in his other hand. He could see his captain staring at his face from the corner of his eyes, still on his knees in front of him; Paul wondered if he noticed that he was rubbing at his ankles or if it was an unconscious decision. He parted his lips delicately, dabbing more of the lipstain on and adjusting it around the edges and he could hear his captain breathe harder and swallow loudly. He wiped the excess rouge on his cheeks to give himself a rosy blush before he looked at his captain.

"How do Iook, sir?"

"Beautiful." His captain spoke like he was afraid of the word but couldn't take his eyes off of Paul, no matter how embarrassed he was at his obvious focus. "One more thing..." his captain cleared his throat and rummaged around in his sachet, cursing low under his breath before triumphantly handing over two earrings to Paul who could only stare at the fine pearls dangling from them. Were they real? Couldn't have been, could they? The golden body of it felt heavy though, despite its delicate size. They were clip-ons too, not requiring Paul to have pierced ears.

As he was watching them in his palm, mesmerized the way the lamp light made them glint, his captain took the mirror from his lap and held it up for him to look. Paul swallowed but nodded in thanks, adjusting his hand for the right angle, the touch feeling so intimate before he retreated his hand and watched himself in the mirror as he tried to fit the earrings on himself. The clip hurt a bit, but the jewelry looked so pretty against his hair, he couldn't mind. He felt like a pretty lady, looked like one too. A look to his captain confirmed that he agreed, his eyes blown and his lips fallen open, and when Paul dared a glance down, he could see the outline of his cock, hard and fat and twitching against his thigh beneath his trousers, a couple centimeters away from Paul's foot.

Paul shied away from his gaze, blushing at the reaction he elicited from him, the way the older man watched him so hungrily making him feel things he never felt before. He was scared but also... a little proud almost? For being so desirable to someone he looked up to. For making him erect.

"Gorgeous," his captain breathed, reaching up to hold Paul by the chin, guiding his face back to look at him. "So pretty. My pretty girl."

"Sir," Paul held onto the older man's wrist, not to push him away, just... as reassurance that he wasn't dreaming. His captain leaned close, one hand on Paul's jaw, the other fondling the inside of his thigh beneath his skirt, and Paul could smell the tobacco on his mustache from how close he was. "Captain?"

He didn't try to resist the kiss, letting the electricity of it wash through his body and warm his skin as he opened his lips to let his captain lick into his mouth and guide him closer by the back of his neck. Paul gasped into the kiss as he felt his captain's coarse hand caress further up and cup his little cock. When did he get hard?

"Captain," Paul whined, feeling that dry palm rub at his sensitive prick and balls, while thick fingers nudged at his hole below. "Captain, why..."

"You washed yourself here too?" His captain breathed against his cheek, pressing heated kisses everywhere he could reach, and Paul could feel him smearing his lipstain as he prodded at his asshole. "Are you a clean little girl?"

"Y-yes, but why-," Paul broke off in a whine as a thick dry finger slid up and into his hole, the pain eased by the palm rubbing against his crotch in pleasurable circles.

"Your pussy is tight, isn't it?" His captain groaned against his neck, leaving kisses there before retreating his hand and instead grabbing a hold of both of his thighs and spreading them out, exposing what Paul hid beneath his dress. It was utterly humiliating. "Such a pretty pink cunt. You don't mind me tasting it?"

Paul couldn't even answer before his legs were thrown over his captain's shoulder and his face was buried between them kissing and licking at his hole. Paul was speechless, clawing at the back of his captain's skull, feeling a pleasure he never experienced before; it was uncomfortable at first, the way that thick wet tongue prodded and lapped at him, but once he got used to the sensation it quickly grew exciting and pleasing, and his captain rubbed and played with his little cock too to ease his tension.

"Captain, sir..." Paul didn't know what to do, what to say, he could only hold onto his captain's head and lift his skirt to not get any saliva or precum on the material. His captain massaged at his thighs, pressing them close to his head to sandwich him in while his tongue begun digging into his hole, fucking him with it rhythmically. It felt so strange, but... nice. He let out a little moan when his captain thrust his tongue deeper than before, his legs squeezing around his skull.

"You like my tongue in your pretty flower? My gorgeous girl," his captain was rasping, drunk on his taste and eating him out savagely, "You're tight like a little virgin down here, like you've never taken a man before."

"I haven't, sir." Paul whispered, barely audible, but it was loud enough for his captain to hear it and come back up to face him. He looked confused and shocked, but he wasn't as intimidating as usual, not with his face so red and soaked with his saliva and his hair messed out of place by Paul's grabby hands. Paul felt shy now, holding onto his skirt protectively. "I haven't been with a man before, or anyone for that matter. I'm sorry, sir."

He didn't really know why he was apologizing, but it felt like his captain assumed he'd know perfectly well how to handle being taken by a man. Was that what he was referring to when he said he was only good for this sort of thing?

Suddenly his captain's second in command peeked in, raising a brow at the sight but not at all surprised unlike Paul who quickly covered himself up with his skirt, blushing wildly.

"Is our French hooker ready? The men have been waiting around for long enough for little Pauline to make an appearance." He lit himself a cigarette pointing with it at the captain. "You said you wouldn't hog him all to yourself, sir."

"There's been a change of plans." His captain replied, wiping his mouth, not at all embarrassed unlike Paul, who was utterly mortified at being caught in such a position. "The men will have to wait one more night. He's a virgin."

"No way," his second I'm command laughed, trotting in to the tent right up to Paul and passing his cigarette to the captain. "I thought a pretty thing like him wouldn't have been taken advantage of from day one."

Paul gulped as the man took him by the jaw and turned his face here and there to observe him from above and all Paul could do was stay pliant and not die of embarrassment.

"With a mouth like that you'd think he was a professional cock-sucker."

"Well, he's not." His captain batted away his hand, glaring up at him and passing the cigarette back after one drag. He was protective over Paul. He didn't know why that made him feel so good. "I'll train him for the night. The men can have their fun tomorrow once he's broken in."

"With all due respect, sir, why you?" His second in command sneered. "We've all been waiting for long enough."

"It was my idea."

"I supplied the dress."

"Strauss supplied the wig. Bertram the stockings. The list goes on. The point remains; he's never been with anyone. We can't overwhelm him on his first night." His captain started getting angrier, standing up tall to loom over the other man. Paul felt like a piece of meat two dogs fought over.

"Why not? I bet he could take it," the other man reached out to touch Paul again but his captain slapped his hand away, the loud crack of it deafening in the small tent.

"This is an order. Leave him to me." His captain growled, stern and intimidating again, like how Paul was used to him. The other man stood defiant for a minute before giving in and giving a slight nod, letting out a disappointed sigh.

"The men will not be pleased." Was all he said before giving a half-hearted salute and leaving without a dismissal from the captain. His captain just scoffed, watching him leave before turning to Paul when he spoke, voice small.

"Am I going to be a prostitute, captain?" Paul swallowed, feeling a bit betrayed and used. "Is that how I am to entertain the men?"

His captain sighed, tucking back a long lock of hair from Paul's red face, his eyes sympathetic. "Yes. But not tonight. Tonight I'll take care of you, Baumer."

"And tomorrow, sir?" Paul sniffled, leaning into his captain's hand involuntarily for comfort. "Will you throw me to them tomorrow, sir, after you're done with me?"

"There's a war going on, my boy," his captain crouched down in front of him, rubbing Paul's knee. "Everybody has to do their part to help. You should be grateful your part is something like this, not worse."

"Whoring? I should be grateful to be forced into whoring?" Paul flinched, shying away from his captain's touch until he was roughly wrung back to face him by the back of his neck, fat tears falling down his cheeks. "That hurts..."

"I can hurt you far worse." His captain growled, shaking Paul a little by his nape like an unruly kitten. "Listen to me, Paul, whether you like it or not, there are soldiers who are either too strong, too smart, or too crafted to waste, and then there are those that can be allowed to fall easily like pawns on the board, expandable. Do you not want to be one of the few crafted soldiers that we look out for, that we protect? I've met few boys nearly as pretty as you and they are cherished far above anyone else in their units because they're capable of something the others are not. Pleasing the men. Easing their worries if just for one night. Giving them a little pleasure in this rotten world. Something to fight for."

Paul finally looked into his captain's eyes, biting his lip and blushing at the encouraging words. Did he find him really so pretty? Was it just because of his dress and wig or maybe even before?

"It's not whoring, it's survival, my boy. It's a warm bed and a promise of not sending you over the line. It's safety. Do you want to be safe? Cherished?"

Paul sniffled but nodded after a couple seconds, wiping at his nose and eyes and his captain handed him his handkerchief to use instead of his hand. "...yes, sir."

"Good boy." His captain squeezed his knee before wrapping his arms around Paul and lifting him up and out of the chair bridal style, making Paul gasp in surprise.

"Sir!"

"Tomorrow, you're to be cherished by the whole unit, but for tonight," the older man huffed as he placed Paul down onto his bed, making quick work on undoing his own clothes while watching Paul's petite body hungrily. "I'll cherish you all by myself."

"...yes, sir." Paul could feel his face turn red, but his legs opened as if on cue for his captain. Maybe he was good for this.

#i actually still haven't watched it and im not sure if i want to but here have Paul getting dressed up like a doll and tongue-fucked #felix kammerer #all quiet on the western front #ask rambles #paul baumer

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