#me​ @my heart: could you perhaps not be irratic? all i had was a single mountain dew calm the fuck down

[qasian-tech-support]

.

#hhhhhhhhhh #i really need to learn not to stay up so late. i stayed up until 4am and woke up about 9-ish and now i am FILLED with anxiety #but its not like a *bad* anxiety exactly; its like a mix between excitement; nervousness; happiness; dread; etc etc #i just ordered some stuff last night (aka blew a chunck of my money) and im excited for it but also terrified that my dad may see it #(he thinks i waste a lot of money on a regular basis when in reality this is like the only stuff ive bought for myself in months; but it #wont help for him to see a bunch of packages); #and im surprised bc im actually looking forward to something and its got my mind racing; but im also mentally hitting my head on a wall bc #ive been in a shitty place mentally/emotionally lately (for a few months now) where it feels like i cant envision what a future for myself #may look like and its really hard to get out of #..okay maybe it is a little bit of bad anxiety.. #i may be able to catch a little rest before i have to work but like. FUCK #me​ @my heart: could you perhaps not be irratic? all i had was a single mountain dew calm the fuck down #sorry for the infodump i just felt like i was going to burst #vent post #delete later

[edensrose]

God, do I have a yandere idea for you. Could I request headcanons of a reader who's pretty much the reincarnation of Thrandail's late wife in looks, but absolutely adores fighting and gets into fights/gets injured no matter how badly he locks them up?

Also you've dragged me into this inescapable fandom and I will never forgive you for it 😭

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ yandere!thranduil ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. the elvenking was already teetering the edge of madness, what happens when he sees a woman identical to his fallen queen? ( yandere themes ៸៸ manipulation ៸៸ toxic relationship ៸៸ implied violence ៸៸ possessiveness ៸៸ dark themes present, viewer discretion advised )

· ⊰ note. dear you are f e e d i n g my yandere obsession istg. here, have these headcanons and a little oneshot piece at the end. I also take full responsibility for dragging you into this hellhole, welcome <3

ʚ The second Thranduil laid eyes on you he knew that he had to have you - he needed you. With the fact that you bore the looks of his late wife? It was enough to get the darkest gears in his head turning, he wouldn’t accept your refusals nor the actuality of how truly messed-up his motives were. Yet it seemed that the odds were in his favour, this time around 

ʚ You gave your everything to Thranduil and completely submitted to him. Desperate to find favour in his eyes that was for you, not her. You obeyed his commands, you bent to his every whim. Most saw you as a little puppet, dancing around and acting as a distraction for the ever-maddening king

ʚ It just so happened the elvenking’s charm was enough to woo you, despite the countless warnings from those around. You knew why he sought you out, favoured you - and in a way, you were responsible for the relationship you now found yourself in. After all, you were the one to make it so easy for him; to bend to his will in hopes to gain his love and adoration in a different way other than the fact that you looked exactly like the former queen. Deep within your heart, you yearned to have him love you for the person you were, to have him separate you from that woman. Was this an irrational hope? Perhaps to some, and it was the very thing that got you into this mess 

ʚ Alas, there was one thing that he had no control over, one thing that created a wedge within your relationship and drove him up the wall; your will to fight. It wouldn’t be a problem for most of his kin - but for the king? It ran deeper than one could imagine. After the loss of his first love, the mere thought of you throwing yourself in harm’s way was enough to send him into a frenzy. Due to this, he forbade you night hunts or any battles that the elves may face. He couldn’t lose you, the thought was enough to drive him even more to madness ( if that was actually possible with his already horrid mental-state )

ʚ It was the one thing he couldn’t get you to obey and of course, the single topic you both butt heads over repeatedly. At first he would simply lose his temper, shout at you, berate you, in hopes that it would deter your desires. Yet the more you disobeyed him, the further you ignored his commands, his reactions grew more severe. This prompted a vast array of punishments - hoping that this would put out the fire within you. It ranged from tactics of manipulation to the point where he would often lose composure and result in choking you, locking you away in his resting chambers for the night, guilt-tripping you. And when you still refused to listen? He would up the anti. Threaten to harm those who fought alongside you, threaten you. 

ʚ Inevitably, Thranduil would not be able to hold on to his dwindling sanity for much longer and would eventually lose himself to his darkest demons. You would only realise the severity of your mistake when he follows through with his threats, splattering the blood of those you called companions and locking you away in the deepest, darkest parts of his dungeons - where no one would hear your screams for help nor have any access to you. No one but him. 

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ一

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Thranduil,’’ with trembling words, glistening eyes, you stare up into the pair of icy sapphires which look upon you nonchalantly. The stone floor scrapes against your knees, leaving you shivering, uncomfortable - yet you are unable to rise to your feet due to the heavy chains that hold you down. 

“P-Please. . .’’ You try to lean forward, but the restraints on your wrists which fix your arms above your head leave it impossible to do so. “Let me go,’’ a single tear slides down your cheeks and you hold a breath once he takes your jaw within his hold. 

Any previous warmth that his gaze held for you was now long gone, any gentleness faded. All this replaced by a glare and rough, unceremonious motions that left you feeling like a ragdoll. 

“Let you go?” Thranduil scoffs, leaning down so that silvery locks cascade around you. “You truly are daft, hmm?” 

You gasp, more tears slipping from your eyes as his hold drops to your throat and cruelly squeezes, forcing your head back into the cobblestone wall. A whimper eases from your lips and you refuse to return the fierce kiss he presses to your mouth for but a moment before his breath fans against the shell of your ear. 

“Never,’’ it’s a shaky, ragged breath, rumbling from his chest which heaves violently. “I will never let you leave me again, my darling starlight.’’ 

#— ꒰🌺꒱ 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐬 ៸៸ the hobbit/lotr ❜‧₊ #thranduil #the hobbit #lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #thranduil x reader #thranduil reader insert #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x you #yandere thranduil #dark thranduil #dark!thranduil #the hobbit x reader #lotr x reader #yandere #tw yandere #dark themes #dark content #headcanons #mirkwood elves #writing

[haikyuu-boys-headcanons]

𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽

request: Hi author Chan can I request headcanons for how oikawa , kenma , bokutos and tsukishima would react to u saying the safe word but them not hearing it at first until u start to cry

this is part two of the series :) if anyone wants any other characters, please go to my request box <3

tsukishima is a very analytical person, he always pays attention to small details

hence why he tends to rely more on logic than emotion

but very rarely, he requires an outlet to get all of his emotions out

he made an extremely poor and irrational choice of using what was supposed to be a pleasurable and exciteful night to release his bottled up emotions

which resulted with boundaries being broken as well as hearts.

something seemed off about kei the entire night. during dinner, his fork was hitting his plate with a much more aggressive manner. the subtle hostile tone in his voice began to sharpen with every word. seeing kei like this truly perplexed you, it was such an unusual sight to see. the usual lively chatter you two would have every night had suddenly died down to the sound of tsukishima grinding his teeth. perhaps something at work happened? you were too intimidated to ask anyway.

“come on,” kei huffed as he wearily got out of his chair. a look of sudden confusion grew on your face. 

“don’t you wanna..?” he hinted, already making his way to the bedroom. you nodded. something about this didn’t feel right at all, you could already detect a feeling of dread grow and devour your stomach. even so, you still made your way to the bedroom. 

the split second you walked through that door, a calloused hand forcefully grabbed the side of your jaw. that same hand that caressed you every night before you fell asleep. now, this wasn’t unusual behavior from kei. you two have had plenty of long chats of what you both like and what your both comfortable with, and rough sex was frequent between the two of you. you both truly enjoyed rough activities! yet this time was different, much more different.

you could see the true amount of anger and pain kei had in his eyes as his hand abruptly pushed you up against the wall. there was true emotion to what he was doing; more importantly, the emotions weren’t loving. you could truly feel the amount of pain in his force.

still, you were already so turned on. you had your legs wrapped around him as he pounded you into the wall so effortlessly. his grunts sounded frustrated and exhausted rather than pleasurable, and with every thrust you could feel your hips bruising. 

“kei..” you cried, unsure if those tears were out of pleasure or worry.

“shut the fuck up” he growled, tightening the grip he had on your jaw, “are you that fucking pathetic that you can’t even shut up for a single moment of your life? i’m sick and fucking tired of hearing you”

you began to sob as you muttered the safe word. all his attention was focused on his movements, so much so that he didn’t hear you.

“kei!” you sobbed, “i said blue.”

he looked up to see the horror and fear grow in your eyes. he let out a small gasp before quickly pulling out and letting go of the grip he had on you. it felt almost as if he snapped out of his hostile state, as he slowly realized.

“y/n..” he whispered as you collapsed onto the floor, bawling your heart out. your breathing had become so rapid, you were so close to hyperventilating. in that moment, you were so terrified of kei. you truly thought the one you love the most was trying to hurt you.

“w- why didn’t you hea- hear me kei” you wept, as your hands instantly went to cover your flushed and horrified face, “why were you so- so aggressive”

“i...” kei was speechless, more horrified with who he had become in the last few hours. he was so horrified with himself and the way he acted. he cautiously got down to your level, slowly wrapping his arms around you. you sobbed into the crevasse of his collarbone as his hand caressed every inch of your body ever so delicately. his actions spoke for the words he was too horrified to say. 

you two laid like that for around 20 minutes, entangled with each other’s bare bodies in silence. the silence spoke the words that kei was too cowardly to say out loud.

he suddenly lifted you up into his arms as he travelled to the bathroom. you could hear the bath faucet run as he softly placed the two of you in the bathtub. you were comfortably laying on him as he wrapped his slender arms around your stomach, holding you ever so closely to him.

“i’m so, so incredibly sorry y/n” he muttered, attempting to conceal the slight cracks and chokes in his voice, “i... i can’t make any excuse for the way i acted tonight. things at work have just been so intense. i should’ve never let that fuel my anger”

“i promise you, i would never do such a thing to hurt you. i just-” kei’s voice was only getting weaker and weaker, “i love you so much. more than you could ever imagine.”

“i love you too kei” you muttered, averting your gaze towards his hazel eyes, “i was just so scared”

“i know, i know sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your forehead with such passion as his lean fingers intertwined with yours. his actions were once again speaking for the cries trapped in his throat that he was trying ever so hard to withhold. 

#haikyuu #haikyuu hcs #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima x reader #kei hcs #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima smut #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x you

[starshipsofstarlord]

𝑅𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝐹 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐷𝑈𝑆𝑇

Summary: Kaz had faced two of his fears - almost watching you die and going against his touch aversion. And now he has to deal with the consequences that not only burden him, but also yourself

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of violence, touch aversion,

Word Count: 3255

Masterlist Link

The night, it’s integrity toiled with you, as you say at the camp, with Inej planning on abandoning you all, and Jesper missing that bleating goat. It made you wonder of what direction that you should pursue going in, as you ogled up at the glittered sky, the sequinned stars glinting mischievously back at you. You were nothing other than a speck in the world, as they were in the laminated skyline, the Saints and dark generals were the ones that whisked you down such demeaning paths. The crows were to scurry from their brash threats and existences, the journey of catching the sun summoner had been all for nought.

Not a kruge had been earned in your name, the small bump of adventure had inevitably ended up as being a waste of both resources and time. And now the task of returning through the dreary and life threatening fold lay at your feet; such a plain that was created from pure evil was nerve wrecking. You’d never be considered as one of the goods that served the gods, but you were nowhere close to the Darkling’s maleficence. Had he not only taken hostage of a symbol to all geisha, but your veins were adeptly black, and the toxic venom was spreading with each hour that sourly passed. None of your fellow murder knew of the state that was combusting you; you had saved Kaz, with no regrets of doing so. That dagger had landed in Aleksander’s shoulder, and he had spread his shadowing cloud over to you, tormenting you with the image of complete destruction.

You were lucky to have escaped from his entrapment, Kaz had saved you, whisking your from the overbearing plough of suffering, even grabbing you with his glove covered hands, pressuring himself to do such an act to keep you alive. Though, you didn’t know how much longer you would remain so, and that was why you were gazing up at the constellations; hoping that you’d end up in their blazing glorification. Perhaps you’d survive, nothing was known of your current condition. Or you’d be cursed, turned grisha or something significantly worse. One thing that you’d learned on this gruelling mission was that anything was possible, even Kaz had made a step in his discomfort to rescue you, hauling you away from your inevitable doom by the arm, and stepping into the shrouding darkness. If it had not been for him, then you’d surely have composed into a defiled corpse, ripped apart by the darkness that Aleksander exhibited, and had enhanced through ancient looms that had been integrated onto absorbable parchment.

“I see that you’re less tense; does this mean that you are no longer mad at me?” His voice rang in your ears, prompting you to grind your teeth together as though you were mashing up crystals of salt. Eternally, you were grateful for the risk he had taken to ensure that you would not meet whichever saint you believed in once you travelled through the ropes of pitch and certain demise. You refused to give him the source of satisfaction of giving him your undivided attention; most feared him enough to comply and give him all the attentiveness he demanded as he struck his cane upon a surface, however, unlike those commoners, there was nothing about Kaz Brekker that struck fear in you. He were merely a man, whilst albeit had done some unforgivable things, had suffered same as everyone else, but terribly more so. “I’ll take your silence as a no then, should I?”

In turn, you crossed the folding origami of your arms over the expanse of your chest, and continued to ogle your pupils up towards the passageway of luminescence that hung like a chain in the velvet sky, causing Dirty Hands himself as he had been known, to release a heartfelt huff of frustration. It had taken quite the toll on him to oppose his own serious paranoia, and yet here you were, ignoring him after the cold events. Gulping, you couldn’t help but have annoyance seed in you as he continued to hover his presence beside you, he was using the tactic on purpose, full well knowing that it would eventually have you splintering until you cracked. You’d always had a soft spot for Kaz since the day you had met him; he was so brutally concurred with the ways of making a victim squeal like a sow giving birth, yet there continued to be an innocence within him, of which he hid from most. It was quite the contrast, as were his child like eyes that bore into you like his wish was to make you frail from poised embarrassment until you disappeared into a fine speck on the shoulder of his coat.

That was an irrational thought though, Kaz Brekker simply wanted to know, and not for the first time, why you disposed of reciprocated speech, and chose to pretend to be deaf to his consolation that he was attempting to reprimand with you. “Because if you remain to be angered with me saving your life, then, I would like to know. I’m not going to scoundrel around your presence all evening, we’re going to have to start moving sooner rather than later if we ever hope to get upon the route that I have planned. As useful as your combat is, and irreplaceable as I may think you are at times, I will allow you to go on your own path as you wish. You aren’t the only one that wants to part from the crows; Inej also has intentions to. If this is also because of the sun summoner, then they are freely your beliefs, though I certainly think you have the strength to strive towards something controversially more.” Inej leaving - that was news to you, and thus you finally surrendered, turning to him with spite written upon features, and commenced in supervising his lean form with integral eyes.

“To where do you have plans to go Kaz?” In turn, the volume of your sound increased, as you marked him as your target of choice. “And you’re right, I am pissed that you decided to save me rather than prioritising your own life; if anything were to happen to you, I’m not sure how I’d handle it. I have an inkling of a feeling that I wouldn’t even be able to. That’s because if you weren’t here I’d probably go crazy and envelop myself in a spiralling madness of which I’d be averted onto a path of nothingness. You are the one that has gifted me with a purpose, and time and time again you continue to preserve my life and I’m not sure I can cope with that. Just knowing that you are willing to throw yourself in the eye of danger to ensure that I do not meet my eventual end that is coming anyway. And worst of all, you faced off against that no good, dirty grisha, murderous General. Do you have any idea of what he would have done to you if he were to explicitly, and cruelly as are his routines, contort your body into the whim of his Darkling abilities.”

“I have an idea or two.” He admitted, toying with the fingers of his gloves, relieved to not see what lay beneath the leather. He stared at you in the face, feeling sickened from the sight of the creases that promoted your frown that was directed thoroughly towards him. It wasn’t a good feeling to be on the other end of your diverging glare, it was making him conflicted with the perishing of his emotions. A part of him was laughing inside that he was intimidated by someone, a woman no less, the other was rather impressed with your ample stubbornness. Now that was one thing that the two of you had in common; you both stood like stone, shadowing behind your beliefs or there lack of, as though Medusa had fixed the pair of you with her grey glazed glare, and forced you to be the way that you were. “And it was in fact you who decided to save my life first, I was merely returning the favour.” He now took it as his shift to allow his eyes to travel up into the beyond, the highlights that flawed his irises being triggered by the ambience that strobed in the frustrated sky, that was getting more antsy by each second that passed.

“I saved your life because I care about you, not because I value your skills and require them. That is a vast difference that separated us from being merely a single detail in a rope of stars. We’re separate in thought, and consolably close in real time and space, that fate has chosen us to be. We were both close to death in that second, he could have tarnished us both if that were his main priority, and we should be thankful that he realised that we were not lying when the admittance of not knowing of Alina Starkoff’s whereabouts fell off our tongues like misconducted liquor.” Your voice cracked, thinking about Kaz dead was the last thing that you wanted to obscure your mind, however it was the only thing that was roaming around the space like a moth darting around in a light fixture, having fallen captive to its own instinctive nature to fly too close to the example of fire. “Never, and I mean this Kaz, step in the path of death that narrows in my sights; I’d rather it be me than you of whom takes a fall into such a never ending abyss. You’re the face of this operation, and I am merely a killer that you decided to take under your wing whence times got too tough for either of us to cope alone.”

“I am not bound to make any promises, especially when you speak of accepting death so gracefully. And to answer your prior question, we are returning to Ketterdam, and I- i um-“ he fidgeted, his jaw contained to clench and release in a rhythm as he attempted to get the words out. “I need you to come with me on this, trust me, I have a plan, one that does not involve you dying. There will be no funerals that parallel this task ahead of us, if anything happens, you are my priority.” The heart felt ropes of words interlocked, much like the passage of beaming stars that made a blanket in the material of the sky; they shon stirringly in the abyss of the above, daring to deter you as its source of focus, causing you to freeze up as Kaz spoke his difficult to say words. “And when we get the one million kruge, that is when I will allow you to go out on your own, then you will have the expenses to protect yourself, and disappear if we cannot manage to end this eternal wrath that the grisha and hierarchy establish through the existence of the fold, they turn the tides of where whomever can go, and if they are gone, you shall have the freedom to venture to the place that your heart most desires, you’d no longer have to be trapped by my side similarly to my cane.”

“Everything that you are saying is tipping my head upside down; that I out of everyone, am your priority and that you are to set me free like a bird that has been trapped in a cage? Perhaps, this is a situation that it seems not you have enquired to think of, but I do not want to leave your side, even if I can. If I so much as wanted to, I’d have taken the chance to wrangle free in the midst of the journey from Ketterdam to these exasperating lands that want us to be persecuted for this job that we have taken underneath our midnight wings, though if you hadn’t noticed, I remain here. And whilst I wouldn’t have been peripherally if you weren’t to have saved me from my possible annihilation, I still have no intentions of abandoning you in any way, although that resolutes from you openly willing to take the risk of your own life in order to preserve my own. Never, and I compensate that with defiance, do that again.” You swiped your finger towards him, watching as the crease between his brows stiffened and grew deeper like a crescent that exhibited itself in the lawns of time, he poised his head back at your jurisdiction, clearly offended by your selfless demand.

“I cannot make that promise, there are little to no things that I have connective nurturing for; money and wealth stomp on nearly anything, but to me your life is priceless, even if your opinions do not retrograde the same reflection of worth.” His palm was shaky beneath its armour of leather as he went to reach for your hand, it took him a minute or so until he paid the dues of contact, but he faced his greatest fear, and denied avoiding contact. The prospect of Kaz touching anyone, let alone it being you, stirred a strange sensation through your body, as though you were being electrocuted via a storm, more specifically, a bolt of lightning that shot down from the angry clouds, shooting adrenaline and a high pulse through every limb of your form. “Do not mistake me for not having care towards Inej and Jesper, but without you I’d lose the path of succeeding through all my personal struggles, because you are the one thing that reminds me to continue to fight all of the harms in the world that wish to prosecute us, as though we are rodents that climb out from the sewers and run through the streets, poisoning them. There is a strong suit that wraps around me, stubbornly suffocating my interests, so that I have an avoidance of ever allowing anything to proceed to happen to you - get that through that steel skull of yours, you are smart and strong and my number one mine of gold for me to protect.”

“Kaz…” it felt like a forbidden sentence slipping off your tongue, simply by saying his name. You gave his hand a squeeze, noticing how he stiffened for a moment, and then relaxed a second later, getting used to the notion of silent amorist exchange; his blue eyes scalped every inch of your face, staring at the skin that compressed against your bone structure, the twinkle of the stars illuminating each distinctive feature that condoned your image. “I don’t know what I should say it’s - it is like we have been risking everything for nothing. And I am no gold mine, I cannot get us all that kruge, and I sure as hell can’t beat against the most powerful grisha known to man. I may be strong, but I am not strong enough. I may be smart, but certainly not smart enough. Overall, to everyone I am missing something, and it makes me wonder what else you see in me rather than an opportunist that can bring men to their knees in a second by sweeping beneath them, ready to swipe anything of value that they carry within the income of their pockets.” Drifting on their own accord, your eyes diverted once more to gaze up into the magnificent scenery that stroke above; each star was different within its placement, as well as how much it glowed under the pressure of insistent staring. It was as truly beautiful sight, and as you accorded your eyes to focus on the chord of light, Kaz’s eyes remained tuned upon your perseverance.

“The fact is you could bring any man, including myself,“ he gulped for a moment, feeling just how cheesy his words were as they spewed out, before he continued. Each word he spoke with giving you a new light that you saw Kaz under, he was not just a ruthless killer that likened to getting his hands dirty on a job, he was human like everyone else, many people seemed to forget that. But he had never appeared more humane as he did in the second with you, his hand clasped foreignly in the clasp of your own, and his eyes void of all intent, they were pure and for a second juridical with the haven of content. He wasn’t envisioning good, he was allowing himself to see what was right in front of him. “To their knees.” He finished his sentence, only to go on and elongate the mercenary like talk that he often had a problem with discussing. Though now could be the last moments that he could open up in such a way; it was uncertain how the turn of planned events would turn out, sailing through the fold was a danger all in itself, a toiling threat that was pushing you all forwards with a stern hand on each of your backs. “And you don’t even have to lift a finger to do so, every emotion you make me emit makes me possess a vigil weakness that I try to keep hidden, but in order to get the last of my strength through it, I acquire to get this off my chest before we venture to our next route. I care deeply for you, when I’m around you it feels like I am beneath water, the liquid gurgling in my lungs like sickening liquor. I have never felt this way, not have I ever had a desire to be monitored by these virtual sources, but they’re here, as are we.”

Taking a sturdy breath, you raised Kaz’s gloved hand and aligned it with your lips, gently pressing a kiss to the material that separated your skin. “You will not lose me Brekker, I’m not going anywhere. We’ve gotten this far, and that’s impressive all on its own. The trip back to Ketterdam cannot be as difficult as our journey here, we endured betrayal from that oaf that helped us cross the border, we got in and out of the Little Palace unscathed, and escaped the General on another account. I’d say that’s quite impressive, and behind every ploy you have been the grand mastermind. So let’s go home, and we can pick this up from there. ‘Tis a shame though, the stars don’t quite shine as bright back there, but we’ll have each other, and that is enough to brighten and guide me through the nights.” His lips stretched at the sides, depositing an appearance of relived thought. There had merely not been much of a fight between you on the situation, if he were to have pried any further about your safety he was sure there’d have been, but things had settled before they reached that stage. The primary battle though was to be against one of the most powerful grisha to walk the earth, of whom was keeping the Sun Summoner hostage. But as you had supposed, things would work themselves out. “I’m going to check on Inej, I won’t be a second.” He remembered the smile on your face as you trekked off, it was a notion to which he analysed that you were one of the few people who were kind to him. Once you were out of his vision, he looked up at the stars. There may have been no saints resting up there, but it sure was a peaceful view.

#kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker oneshot #kaz brekker x oc #kaz imagine #kaz x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone #imagines #imagine #xreader #freddy carter x reader #Freddy Carter imagine #freddy carter imagines #s&b fic #s&b imagine #s&b x reader

[angelicmichael]

my mind forgets to remind me - you're a bad idea w andy 😳👉👈

A/N: Thank u sm for sending this!! You had no idea how happy this made me to write :’) I’m sorry it took me a min tho lmao. The prompt is from Eva’s taylor swift prompt list 😌, but also - I tried to make this fluffy but there is some angst 🤐 actually a lot of angst.. I’m so sorry djdjd. The dynamic /overall relationship is very much like my other Andy fic ngl.. which I wanted to point out haha. This is also probably the most unedited thing ive ever uploaded so plz dont judge my writing too harshly 😭 Otherwise enjoy! <3

Warnings: kinda slow burn?, pining, angstt, Hedwig slander, brief conflict, some fluff hehe, friends to lovers, jealous! reader

You heard the rumors.

Andy Dolan was with Hedwig.

To be completely honest; even without the rumors it was painfully obvious how much truth those words had behind them.. You saw how they acted together. How Andy’s eyes, which were normally filled with torment, finally got some light to them whenever he looked at her; how he was so careful to never disagree with a single fucking word she said or demand she made.. happy to oblige as long as it meant she was his and wouldn’t leave him.

It made you sick.

You hated the kind of person Andy Dolan was making you become.. Seeing your best friend with someone like Hedwig, so selfish and narrow minded made you beyond pissed. But regardless; anger wasn’t the main emotion that you felt when you were with Andy. That was only a result of seeing him with someone else.. someone who wasn’t you.

Trying to deny your feelings was redundant but so was the obvious truth; that he was with Hedwig.

It was something that even though you were nearly positive was certain, you were terrified to confront him over. You were scared that you would finally be the one he would take his anger out on.. He would finally get tired of seeing you and entertaining your prescience when he had no real reason too.

After all; you knew why he commonly enjoyed the presence of Women.. and now that he was taken, you weren’t needed.

Simple as that.

Or that’s what you feared, anyway. That wasn’t actually reality.

Andy Dolan (to your surprise) invited you over for the night.. something that you really thought nothing of until you saw him.

He looked serious; something that was not uncharacteristic of him but it still kept you on edge. Perhaps because you were waiting for him to speak.. wanting desperately to know why Andy had chosen to call you and not Hedwig.

“I’m sorry for calling you over so late,” He started.

He avoided eye contact.. pacing around his room as he stood over currently one of his nightstands.. you sat on his bed - paranoia still clouding your fair judgement.

“It’s okay,” you said.. even though it really wasn’t.

You wanted him to turn around. To make eye contact with you and to tell you directly why exactly he had chosen to call you over, because that reason was starting to become painfully obvious.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” He turned around, his gaze slowly averting from the floor to meet yours. You struggled to see whether he was actually looking at you or not since the lights were off - leaving the two of you in a completely dark room.

You stayed silent for a moment - quietly calculating what you wanted to say next and how you wanted to say it.

Was it insomnia that kept him up?? Nightmares?? And why wasn’t he calling Hedwig or some other girl to help him with this issue?

Why you?

Why now?

“Andy.. since when did you ever have insomnia?” You confronted him carefully.

His eyes, which finally started to come into focus, peered up at you almost in a guilty manner.. as if you had caught him straight in a lie.

You were scared of being too direct at first. Scared that you would set him off and he would ‘force’ you to leave and that would be that.. Because even though being next to Andy was torture; being next to him like this.. in the dark, late at night with no one else around where you two could just talk.. was all that you ever wanted, as corny as it kinda sounded.

“You think I’m lying?” He bit back.

“I never said that, I just.. I don’t know why you would choose to call me instead of someone else-“

“I can’t call Hedwig for everything, (y/n). She only likes to stick around when she’s getting paid,” He says with a snort.

You bit your lip when you heard him say her name.. ‘Hedwig’. He knew exactly what you were getting at.

Fuck.

You wanted to apologize for being irrational and for jumping to conclusions but you didn’t. Apologizing felt wrong in this situation.. this wasn’t about you.

“How did you know I meant Hedwig?” You inquired wholeheartedly.

You could now make out the entire dim outline of his body as he continued to stand by his nightstand, watching you for any sudden movements or - really movement at all.

It was completely unbeknownst to you but Andy felt terrified.

Anxiety was never a feeling he was ever completely unaccustomed too; the constant burden and paranoia of everyone he ever remotely liked leaving him was a reality he had to face more than twice.. perhaps even more now if he actually followed through on his plans tonight, with you.

The paralyzing fear he felt that only grew stronger with every step he took closer to you was nearly too much.. it threatened to consume him - nearly bringing tears to his eyes just at the mere thought of you leaving and rejecting him.

He never felt more fucking ridiculous and dramatic in his life.

“Why do you care so much about Hedwig? I sure don’t, She never gave a fuck about me.. not really. After all - there’s a reason I chose to call you.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s your reason?” You challenged.

You expected for him to recite some bullshit he didn’t really mean. Something to make the two of you feel a bit better about the current predicament you were in but, his next words were sweeter and softer than anything you were willing to anticipate.

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly approached you. He was realistically only a few steps away but every step he took seemed to take a eternity.. like he couldn’t possibly get to you soon enough while simultaneously being too far away.

His steps continued until his feet bumped into yours - his sock covered feet accidentally bumping into your shoes.

Suddenly confused at the sudden accident.. you tilted your head up unexpectedly, before catching his gaze only briefly before you did the unthinkable.. pressing your lips to his in something that was just short of a rational decision.

You waited at first for him to pull away - scared to let yourself become fully swept away by the moment but.. it happened anyway.

Andy’s hands quickly touched your back as his lips started to move slowly and sweetly against yours. Seemingly savoring every moment he now had with you; one that perhaps he thought too, would never get a chance to experience.

You pulled away just before you felt him try to deepen the kiss even further. Only to take a deep, steady breath before leaning in once more. Not letting your brain necessarily control your movements anymore but rather letting your heart take over instead.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instinctsxbaby @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @twilightzone24 @glamourouslife99

Let me know if you wanna be added or removed to the taglist! :)

#Andy x reader #Andy Dolan x reader #andy dolan fanfiction #Andy Dolan #cody fern fanfiction #asks #sojournmichael #my fic #reading this back is so funny bc I tried so hard to make this fluffy but- #it’s basically full angst 😭 sorry lmao #but I hope you like this Eva 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 #sorry again it’s so late lol #will crosspost to ao3 in the near future lol

[tinyfantasminha]

Grim overblot HC and TWST ending theory (SPOILERS AHEAD)

 K so you’re all familiar with Grim overblot theory right? I just have this- angsty headcanon which I cannot stop thinking about.

It would happen right after Malleus overblot. After eating Malleus black blot stone Grim becomes that huge ass chimera while everyone, including Yuu, is watching. And that just destroys Yuu.

They will be devastaded. Grim has been with them ever since the very beginning of their stay in Twisted Wonderland. Sure he caused lots of problems for them but it’s undeniable that Yuu also cares for Grim. Grim also showed us to have grow kind of fond of Yuu as we see in episode 4, Grim could’ve just left Scarabia alone and left Yuu behind but he didn’t. I’m pretty sure prologue Grim would have done that, that’s just how his character developed.

Yuu would weakly call out for him and try to snap him out of it. They would approach him and overblot Grim wouldn’t recognize them, instead glaring at them with irrational hatred, no trace of his old memories coming back. Someone would have to actually throw Yuu out of the way or they would end up straight up killed by Grim’s magic. First year gang would protectively take Yuu’s side while Dorm Leaders fight the beast. 

But then something just went wrong. They managed to defeat him, he’s back on being the tiny little gremlin we all know and love. But he isn’t waking up. Maybe all of those overblot stones plus Malleus stone (since he is one of the most powerful beings in the TWST world I don’t even want to think about just how much power his magic stone holds- ) were just too much for his tiny fragile body. He couldn’t bear it. Yuu would run to his side, tears in their eyes, and gently scoop him on their arms... Flashbacks sparking through their mind, all of the silly moments they had together, hanging out with Ace and Deuce, helping out of the Dorm Leaders with their overblots... But they couldn’t help Grim.

The mirror chamber is almost completely destroyed, everyone is just inconsolable. Ace and Deuce would stay by Yuu’s side, fighting back tears. 

I realized that I was unconsciously thinking about this scene... 

That’s from Lilo & Stitch 2: Stitch Has a Glitch, it’s a sequel to the first movie. Near the end of the movie Stitch dies (like for REAL-) and Lilo gently holds him, while shoowing away anyone that approaches them. She then apologizes and says these words:

‘‘I kept saying how I needed you. But you needed me more. You’re my ohana Stitch, and I’ll always love you.’‘

And I imagine Yuu saying these words to Grim and just... my heart... (that scene was one of the few times a disney movie actually made me cry when I was a kid)

So, as we know, there’s a pattern that every dorm which was the main focus on a chapter becomes your ally against the next dorm leader. Diasomnia is the last dorm so we can only assume they (especially Malleus) will play a big role in Grim’s overblot chapter. 

We don’t actually know just how much Malleus is capable of, but he could... Try to bring Grim back to life? idk?? It might be possible?? 

So Grim comes back. With the power of friendship, love or magic (or all combined lol) there, we have our happy ending. BUT NOT YET-

Crowley found a way to send Yuu back to their world, it was all they were hoping for since the beginning but... Now it just feels wrong. Everyone they met, they will be left behind. They’ll probably never see each other again, and they don’t even know if after going back to their world their memories of Twisted Wonderland will remain. 

Then... What about Grim?

Grim and Yuu are a single student, he could enroll into NRC only because Yuu was paired up with him. Without Yuu, Grim will have to leave NRC and... Just be by himself, completely alone since he doesnt’t have a family nor a place to return to.

Then my theory is, Grim will go with Yuu to the real world.

They are basically the only family to each other at this point, it just doesn’t feel right to leave Grim behind. Of course since the real world is a place in which magic doesn’t exist (I wonder... perhaps  👀) Grim would become a normal cat, no more fiery ears, no more pitchfork tail, and of course no more hability to speak like a human. It might take a while for him to get used to it, but he will still continue to be a smart little gremlin always ready to cause trouble. 

Wholesome ending in which Grim becomes Yuu’s pet in the real world and finally has a loving family and a warm home that he deserves. 

---------

I LOVE MY BABY KITTY GREMLIN SO MUCH OK 

This got very long holy sh- Excuse me for any english errors as it is not my first language  👉 👈

#if you have any thought about this send it to my inbox!!!! #i would love to hear your opinions!!! #twst #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst theory #grimm #dorm leaders #overblot #disney #yuu/mc #twst mc #twst spoilers

[lightsinthedistancee]

Under the Cover of War: FO!Poe Dameron x Resistance!Reader

Pairing: FO!Poe Dameron x Resistance!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: “‘Let’s go,’ he murmurs. ‘Let’s run.’ His gaze is fixed on you, begging for this. He needs you—he needs you to be there for him so that he has a place in the galaxy, a place he would never have otherwise. ‘Please.’”

Following the destruction of the Hosnian System, a promise and a dire decision are made by you and Poe.

Warnings: Language

“Why?”

The single word is clipped, volatile, dangerously soft in nature. It’s a question, a plead, an accusation, all at once. It seems to scream in the silence, to imply a million other queries that Poe doesn’t want to answer.

He simply remains quiet as he stares at your back turned to him. You sit on the edge of the bed, breath shaking, refusing to even look at him.

He inhales, blinking rapidly. “Sweetheart—“

“Why?” This time, it’s a scream. The sound is ragged, painful, your voice cracking. It makes him flinch, makes him draw into himself.

The loud cry echoes, disintegrates as the seconds pass.

He wishes he could transport himself back to five minutes ago, before either of your holos had rung. Before the First Order had reported a victory to him, before the Resistance had reported a devastating, unfathomable loss to you.

He wants to return to when he’d laid beside you, running his fingers down your sides, when the memory of pressing you into the sheets was still fresh in his mind.

But somehow he knows that whatever the two of you have will never return in any way.

“How could you?” you whisper, the shock of five of the galaxy’s most populous planets being obliterated in mere minutes still in the process of shattering you to pieces.

Poe wants to shrink into the air, disappear in moments. He knows you’re crying, that you can’t handle it. He’d be lying if he said he himself was handling it at all.

“I…I don’t know what happened.” He stares at the sheets, tears running down his own face. He can’t imagine it. The deaths of tens of trillions. Their screams, the pain they must have felt in the blinding light of imminent death.

Your hands tighten into fists as you shake. Your form is locked in tension, perhaps about to abruptly turn around and strike him, perhaps about to break and collapse into a distraught pile of bone and flesh. “You’re a liar.”

The words are akin to a strike itself. He near hisses, unstable in his new knowledge. “Why the fuck would they tell me? I’m not even a colonel.” His volume rises, swirling in the atmosphere, ready to completely burst free. “I didn’t have a damn thing to do with it—“

“But you certainly have something to do with those who ordered it!” You finally turn to him. You’re livid. Eyes red with tears, lips in a tight line, a glare that threatens to break him.

And your statement is not something he can deny. He deflates, silent. He can feel your eyes on him expectantly, but nothing comes.

When enough time passes, you stand from the bed, grabbing your things from the bedside table. As your fingers delicately wrap around the blaster you regularly carry around, he briefly thinks that perhaps you’re about to turn around and shoot him.

But you don’t, and something new finds home beside your anger: a heartbreaking sense of disappointment.

It’s on instinct when his hand shoots out, grasping your arm. “No, wait…please. Don’t go,” he says quietly.

You’re all he has. There’s nothing more to say other than that. Life in the Order is a cold one, always has been. While he may not agree with the side you’ve chosen, you’re the sole warmth in his life, the sole radiant light.

You jerk in his grip, but he tightens it, eyes unashamedly pleading with you, begging you to not leave him.

Even in the place you always meet him, buried beneath layers of rock, surrounded by passages of clandestine activity necessary in your illicitness, his meetings with you never fail to be the only times he’s truly happy.

“Please…,” he pleads once more, thumb running over your knuckles.

A debate takes place on your features, and he can read you better than he can anyone else. He’s the person you’d let into your heart, the person you’d revealed every personal secret to. He’s the one who’d whispered ‘I love you’ one fateful night, the one to whom you’d whispered it back. He’s the one that had challenged your blind loyalty to any ideology, the one to whom you’d done the same.

He can see all those things viciously, ruthlessly grappling with the horrifying events that had just transpired: bodies being ripped to shreds, building being reduced to dust, life being annihilated in fire.

And in an act of emotional obscurity, the two opponents are shockingly close.

It’s evident which wins out when you limply fall back to the bed, body slumping to lie down, eyes tiredly closed.

“Then tell me why,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Why what?”

“I want to know why you joined the people who did…this.”

And at that simple request, he feels his walls rise. Even if they’d fallen long ago when he was around you, they’d never truly disappeared.

“I thought we don’t talk about stuff like that,” says Poe quietly.

“Well, I changed my fucking mind.”

He gazes around the room, reminded of the sole thing that prevents full, unconditional commitment to the other. The space they are in is a brutal reminder of the fact, for it presents itself in sets of two, an embodiment of duality.

Two blasters on top of the bedside table. One polished and new, the other dull and thoroughly used.

Two sets of boots clumsily scattered by the door. One shiny, lacking a single scuff mark, one that’s appearance suggests it’s been passed through several owners.

Two jackets. One with the hexagonal, sixteen-rayed symbol of the First Order, one with the starbird of the Resistance.

It’s a glaringly horrid representation of the two of you, never destined to be the same.

“Did your tongue also vanish along with the five planets?”

He slowly comes back to the present with your words, forcing away his disconnect.

It’s not something he can afford right now. Maintaining his privacy, hiding the events of his past, concealing the cause of his motives—he can’t afford any of that if he wants you.

And somehow, all he does want is you. You, you, you—to the point that he wonders if it’s unhealthy, if it’s even real and true, but that’s something he refuses to consider in the moment.

Even though you’d seen some of the darkness through him, he is certain that your loyalty to light is stronger, if only marginally, and that means he has to tell. He has to reveal.

“My mother,” he simply says, gaze unfocused. “She was a rebel pilot. She died.”

The slight stirring of your body freezes. He’d never talked of his family’s loyalties; he’d always given the impression that they’d passively existed in the deluge of light and dark that had overtaken the galaxy.

“She’s why I joined.” He flinches at the memory, grimacing at the pain he’d felt as a boy. “She died because of rebellion recklessness. Because of belief in blind hope.”

The anger—it’s simmering once more, bubbling higher, inching further and further to the edge of his chest.

And he can tell yours is too. Your fingers grip at the sheets as your eyes narrow. “Reckless…blind…hope?” He’s questioning your belief, accusing it of something dangerously irrational, and you yearn to lash back on instinct, to defend the beliefs you’d lived your life by—even as your own doubts of it conceal themselves in the background.

He laughs bitterly, his voice rising again. “Don’t kid yourself. That’s what the New Republic lived off of, and it was a fucking mess.”

You tense up, practically shrieking your next words, wholly, viciously attacking him back. “Who are you to say that—“

“There were people revolting in the streets!” he yells, his voice perhaps even louder than yours had been. “There were people in the Outer Rim starving! It was chaos—“

“And the First Order is what? Orderly?”

“They’re better than you and your—“

And he falls silent all of a sudden. He stops himself.

He knows where this is going. It’d happened and been resolved before, but he has a sneaking suspicion that that won’t be the case if the two of you continue down this road.

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath, his back slumped as he rubs his face with his hands.

“Me and my what?” you ask quietly.

He just shakes his head.

You fall back to your laying down position, head burying in the sheets, trying to block everything out. He’s right. He’s entirely right. The flaw in the Light, the flaw in the Republic, but you can’t bring yourself to denounce the loyalty you’d inherited.

He sniffles, hiding his tears behind his hands, and his figure—he knows it’s one of pure pain. As good as he’d gotten at hiding his emotions, they always seem to show themselves in your presence, no matter how hard he tries to defeat them, and it’s undeniable that you feel them to the fullest.

“You say ‘mama’ in your sleep sometimes,” you whisper all of a sudden.

At the revelation, he goes still. It’s an unsettling thought…that perhaps you’d known of his weakness long before he’d willingly showed you, long before he thought you deserved to know.

That maybe you’d heard the words of him crying out for his mother before you’d even known the slightest deeply-personal thing about him, when you’d only known the feeling of him inside you and the feeling of his lips on yours and the weight of his body as he slept beside yours.

His reluctance to look at you only increases tenfold when the shame floods in. The shame of a lifetime at this point—of weakness regarding his family, of putting blaster bolts in people who didn’t deserve them, of not being able to let go of his past, something he’d been striving for his whole life.

It all externally devolves into a mere fit of subtle trembles.

“Poe?” Your tone is soft now, gentle. You’re on your knees, sitting up, a single hand on the side of his face joining the space between the two of you. A certain mixture of concern and inquisitiveness finds home in your eyes, and for a second, he thinks your expression reflects one of a person staring at a beaten-down, once-aggressive animal.

“I regret it—joining the Order,” he simply says, voice cracking. The gas, plasma, fire, flesh, and bone of the destroyed system fill his imagination. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Only if you mean it.” There’s still no sympathy to your voice, but there’s a softer edge to it, the kind that’s always existed but disappears in every fight.

“I do.” He leans back into the pillows, forearm over his eyes. It feels as if this has been going on for far too long, for he’s exhausted.

Your hand finds its way into his curls, tracing from his hairline to the base of his neck. It’s hauntingly reminiscent of what he’d felt so passionately and tenderly before the conflict had even begun.

“All darkness dies in the light,” you whisper.

It’s an ambiguous statement to many, but he automatically knows what you’re asking of him—you want his darkness to die in your light.

And while part of him begs and yearns to submit to your wish, something about your words perturbs him—the words unsaid. His darkness…the one he’d held for so long, you don’t want it to disappear, you don’t want it to transform, no, you want it to die. You want him to kill it.

“I can’t,” he says softly, fingers fumbling with the sheets, almost hoping to blindly find you.

“The Light Side’ll—“

“I’m done with the fucking sides,” he interjects, his words lined with a sharp edge. A puff of air leaves his lips as he desperately wishes for calm, one with at least some semblance of permanence. He finally looks at you, eyes now completely devoid of any anger or menace they’d held before, just the sadness of someone who’d made one too many wrong choices. “It’s just pain either way, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” you admit, a brief expression of hesitance crossing your face. “But you have to choose.” The hesitance turns to anguish, a revelation in its most subtle form. “There’s more pain if you don’t, and perhaps…perhaps that’s why I chose my side.”

He props himself up on his forearms at the mere implication—the implication that your unwavering loyalty to the light is not so unwavering, that you’d gone head in like he had with his loyalty and was now beginning to doubt things.

“Some don’t choose—“

“And they suffer for it,” you interrupt, finishing his statement with your own thoughts. It’s something you’ve seen your whole life: those who don’t choose being made to do so—often in violence.

He laces his fingers with yours, delicately wrapping each of your digits around his palm.“We’ve suffered our entire lives, darling,” he muses. “Born into a galaxy at war, a brief respite, and then yet another one…just suffering, suffering, suffering…within us, around us…what’s a little more?”

The whole room seems to freeze as you peer at him, part curiosity, part doubt, part disbelief. “What are you suggesting?”

“I think you know,” he says softly. The warmth staring back at you is undeniably something you would die for.

“Say it.” Your whisper is said with the deepest conviction, awaiting the words that would cement your decision, perhaps a decision you won’t know until you hear the offer leave his lips.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs. “Let’s run.” His gaze is fixed on you, begging for this. He needs you—he needs you to be there for him so that he has a place in the galaxy, a place he would never have otherwise. “Please.”

Your breath shakes, just barely, contemplating, debating. There’s an inevitable weight to war, the kind that crushes people to pieces, and the temptation to run from such a force—it feels right. It feels right to be free, to live safer, to be with whom you want. “There’ll be sacrifices to make.”

“There’ll be sacrifices either way,” he insists, and you’re certain he’s right. “Darling….” His words fade off, and he surges forward, gently locking his lips with yours. It’s tender and pleading, the ultimate question asked once again through touch.

“Poe….” The way you say his name is filled with something decisive, something deliberate. The seconds pass. He waits. “Let’s go.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Taglist (for everything): @dark-academics-and-florals @theultimateslashgirl @princessxkenobi @djjarins @jitterbugs927 @whovianayesha | Taglist (for Poe): @synical-paradox @paper-n-ashes @spider-starry | This fic: @silkandribbons (i believed you expressed interest once; hope you don’t mind!) @spicemaidenfic (this just seems like your jam tbh)

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#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #first order poe dameron #my moodboard

[dangermousie]

CFC Chapter 54

“A crashing car?” Ahahahaha I see you, Meatbun. But it was indeed an utter pileup!

I know I commented on this passage in its various iterations eight billion times already but I still have more to say. And it’s that XQC taking so long to realize that even though HY is young, his emotions and feelings are as genuine and strong as those of anyone older is so realistic - people do tend to think that especially with regard to children - think of a reaction of an adult to a three year old crying over ice cream they dropped. It’s all amused even if not meanly so. Because to an adult with vastly more experience, this is not a big deal. But what that forgets is that whether it’s ridiculous to someone else or not, to the person at issue that is a real feeling, AND that of course a person can only feel through the lens of their experience - what else is there? Emotions aren’t any less valid because they are informed by lesser or different experience.

Honestly, to me so far this is one of the driving messages of the novel - everyone is in their own world of issues and pain and none of these characters can truly look through the lens of another person and it would be so much better if they did. To XQC, for so long, He Yu’s strong feelings (and we know so many of these feelings are awful - despair, and self-loathing, and loneliness) never quite felt real and therefore never quite felt fully valid. And by the time it wasn’t the case, it was too late.

But the same is true for He Yu - he is so concentrated on his own grievances and his own pain, he cannot perceive others’ different issues. In He Yu’s mind, he’s the winner and always champion of Misery Olympics and while he’s had a horrible time of it, that doesn’t mean other people didn’t either just in different ways. Whether because of his condition, his issues or just his age, HY is not empathetic in the least.

And think about it - XQC does not have a horrible illness. He does not have unfeeling parents. But he had to watch his beloved parents brutally murdered in front of his eyes at 13 (!!!!) and then had to raise a 5 year old by himself. Is it worse or better than HY’s trauma? That’s a matter of opinion but what there is no question about is that is a different type of trauma and a different type of scar. Or think about the patient in the asylum whose name I am too lazy to look up - her life is such a theater of horrors that to me, it makes the combined issues of HY and XQC seem small, though once again that’s subjective. Nobody wins when people start this sort of competition.

My heart breaks for XQC but also - I am sorry - if/when HY x XQC hook up again (how? I have no idea! But that is one of the joys of Meatbun - I both have no idea how/where it’s going and utterly trust her), please have He Yu read up and learn things because Good God. You should not be in major pain the morning after unless you are into pain and XQC clearly is not!

The other thing is the bit about XQC forcing himself to walk in his usual ramrod-straight manner is the moment I went utterly gone for him. I mean, I liked him and found him interesting before. But this is the thing that flipped that invisible switch for me and I went rabid and irrational and now I am Team XQC and I don’t care what he wants and does from now on, he should have it. It’s so small but so real. My mother and her mother were both big on straight posture. And one of the reasons they gave was when you walk with good posture - you look confident but also it makes you feel confident and stronger. And I’ve actually found it to be true - when you throw your shoulders back and straighten your neck and hold your head up, it does not just give others a signal, it gives a signal to your own brain. So to see XQC insist on doing it, despite being emotionally and physically shattered - because of his pride refusing to give up, because he’s so unbending, but also this being some sort of instinctive armor, just hits straight through the heart.

OK, I laughed at HY as a fucking machine. But also, this is another point in the whole “everyone has issues” narrative and HY’s life could be worse. HY, with all his other issues, can pay an insane amount, an amount that XQC could not pay in a million years, so easily. It’s not even a blip to him. Hell, the fact that he forgot to pay speaks to that - I can see forgetting to pay a friend a couple of bucks back right away because it’s not much money. HY forgets because it does not loom in his mind. And this rich lifestyle is instinctive, is ingrained in him. I think he’d find it hard to be poor.

THAT is what he’s thinking about? Priorities are...

The sole good thing that came out of this insanity is that XQC is getting in touch with his emotions, even if those emotions are (rightly) rage. He’s too closed off from them normally.

The fact that you slept with a man should be secondary to the fact that you drugged and raped him, but here we are...

To me, this sums up He Yu as a moral wasteland. To still, when sober and past his fit and not under influence of wine, to still feel excitement over his revenge and to somehow twist it that it’s XQC’s fault for being raped by He Yu is !!!!!!!!!

(I suppose if I were charitable, I’d assume that the disquiet is small stirrings of almost dead conscience and his “he deserved it” is an attempt to justify the unjustifiable to himself, but I honestly don’t want to think so because I am so angry at him. Not until I see some more evidence. I don’t feel like being indulgent with He Yu since he’s indulgent with himself enough for two.)

1. The fact that you can tell from the picture XQC got taken by a man (I am gonna defer to Meatbun’s expertise here) definitely points to the fact that the pictures are going to be used for something bad later - because if it’s just oh XQC had sex, so what, he’s single what’s the big deal. But like this it becomes a different matter. No idea if it will be used for HY or XQC or both, and by whom (money is on Duan and co, but after the way HY went off, I would never say HY himself won’t use it badly somehow) but knowing Meatbun, it will go for maximum damage.

2. Ruthless? Perhaps. Unfeeling? Hmmmm. I am not He Yu’s biggest fan atm but that’s a wonderfully misleading adjective here. He does still seem to be in shock. And fixating.

3. The whole “hahahaha XQC is a hypocrite when he was all ‘I am not interested in sex’“ is - I am not sure if HY is just short-circuiting (fine) or using a rapist justification/rolling in a sea of toxic toxicity (not fine) because I am sorry, that’s totally like “he/she had a reaction, can’t be rape” writ large. Yeah, sure he had a reaction - you poured drugs down his throat. That has nothing to do with his default preferences or his actual state. THE FUCK?!

Anyway, we end on the whole “u mad bro?” bit and you know what strikes me? HY was all “I am done, we are done, my revenge is complete I don’t care” but here he is, still desperately seeking and craving reaction and interaction from XQC.

I remain utterly puzzled as to how these two will ever be a couple except for a couple being defined as “two mutually homicidal people.” Leaving aside everything else, I am willing to accept HY is in the closet - clearly whatever his orientation is, it includes men. But I do not get that sense from XQC at all. When he’s not drugged, he’s barely interested in sex with anyone and I do not get the sense he’s in the closet either. Chances of anyone, let alone He Yu, who is both a man and someone who raped him to humiliate him, being able to entice him into sexual encounters voluntarily is about the chance of me going to visit Mars. Meatbun loves doing insane things so I can’t wait.

PS I know people use the term psychopath all the time casually but ummm, I think He Yu may actually be one? When he has his father (!!!) on speakerphone, calmly carrying a conversation with the man as he’s raping his father’s friend in the club as he talks (!!!!!) that is...in RL I’d be “team lock him up for life, there is something so basic broken in him that it can’t be fixed.” Like - the hell? The ability to put things on different shelves so much is not in the same country as sane (it makes me think of 2ha and TXJ banging CWN being the curtain while performing court business but TXJ was bona fide clinically insane and also this is worse because this is his actual freaking father omg.) Of course, only time will tell whether it’s evidence of him being irreparably incapable of normalcy in terms of living in the world/interacting with others or it was an extreme psychotic (in casual parlance not medical one) break because most people are capable of truly horrific stuff if certain levers are pushed and his default is saner. It’s the question, isn’t it? Whether He Yu’s factory default setting is the monster of the previous chapters or the kid who’d cut his wrists so as not to hurt others.

Anyway, this novel is a terrifying roller coaster ride and I love having strong emotions.

#cnovel #meatbun doesn't eat meat #case file compendium

[fulltimemoaner]

Just something cute like Childe and Zhongli are crushing on each other but they think the other doesn't share their feelings so both of them are being dumd and trying very hard to hide their feelings. Meanwhile, everyone knows they're in love with each other.

Zhongli knows he is being irrational, there is nothing in the world that could possibly bind an adeptus and a human together, nothing short of disaster and broken hearts, anyways. Of course, there are adepti that could argue with his stance, such as the law consultant Yanfei, who is the very product of such a connection. However, the vast difference between a mere law consultant an ex archon is omnipresent in his mind, and so is the fact that he is more than five thousand years older than a certain troublemaker. When he sips his painstakingly prepared tea, his face sours, the leaves leaving a bitter tinge on his tongue, over-boiled and somewhat stale. There went six hours of wasted kitchen labour, all due to his own knack for overthinking and contemplating. He had all the time in the world, after all, to drown in his own musings, even if Hu Tao was still yelling at him to do his duties and other earthly errands. No, Zhongli didn’t look down on those, quite the opposite. He had taken to loving the simple life of the human Zhongli, without the hassles of being Morax. Humanity, however, came with its cons, such as attraction and irrationality. Again, it wasn’t like he hadn’t loved as an Adeptus, madly so, perhaps, but this wasn’t the time for him to be arguing with himself. He simply had to put his desires on a leash. He took another sip of bitter tea.

There was no way Ajax liked him back, after all. He was young, a few millennia so, (yes, he isn’t about to stop repeating that to himself) and strong, quick witted, humorous, loud, adventurous- Everything that Zhongli had lost in the past thousand years of being Morax. A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he leans his chin into the inside of his palm. In times like these, it’s hard not to miss Jueyun Karst and the company of his kind, it’s in times like these when he is filled with confusion and lack of understanding involving the humans he so greatly adores. He wonders if the loss of his Gnosis led to the loss of some of the divine, whether it brought him closer to the earthly beings, which was why he found his heart squeezing so hard at the thought of ginger hair and aquamarine eyes.

A loud thud shakes Zhongli out of his reverie, the sliding door of the Wangsheng Funeral parlour slamming open to reveal Hu Tao’s gleaming eyes, as well as a very handsome yet petrified Snezhnayan. “Zhongli!” The woman coos, her hand holding an iron grip on the Harbinger’s wrist. “Someone needs your assistance.”

“Tartaglia.” Zhongli clears his throat, easing into his front of apathy despite his hammering heartbeat.

“Ah, Mr. Zhongli.” Childe laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head in that telltale way that radiated tides of awkwardness that would put his elemental abilities to shame. “There is a death within the Fatui,” He’s lying. No one has died under his watch. “And we need to bury him, it’s too hot to transport him back to Snezhnaya as it is.” His stuttering voice is probably giving him out, but Hu Tao elbows his ribs so hard he almost gasps.

“Ah, what a tragedy!” The parlour owner throws a hand over her eyes. “Such honoured guests suffering a loss like that! Zhongli, this calls for your assistance. I am so busy and I’m afraid my knowledge in Snezhnayan burial customs is vastly limited, so feel free to take this on!” She gives Zhongli the most suspicious thumbs up known to mankind and sticks her tongue out, and just like she always comes and goes, she practically evaporates out of the room.

Childe is sweating. He is staring at Zhongli with wide eyes and a suspicious tingle in his stomach, a playback of Scaramouche’s words rolling in his brain like a jammed tape.

“Go short your stupid crush out. Don’t show your face in the Northern Bank until you are ready to act normal, fucking idiot. You’re slowing us down, and by the Tsaritsa, I’m not above ratting you out and having you demoted to an errand boy.”

Childe almost cringes at the memory of the aggression in the Sixth Harbinger’s voice. He is going to kill him. Childe Tartaglia Ajax is a massive coward, and he is about to be murdered by his superior because he has a crush on a six thousand year old adeptus that is too good for him and wouldn’t bat-

“How did they die?”

Childe’s brain is like a train about to derail. Zhongli is up now, boiling some tea that smells suspiciously much like Jasmine, just like Ajax prefers it. If he tries to do as much as think of a single thing, all he can do is visualise Zhongli’s golden eyes gleaming underneath the lanterns of that odd Liyuan festival that Childe did not exactly comprehend, be it for his lack of interest at the time, or his complete concentration on that rich voice that kept whispering tales to him about the lanterns and the dead and the local myths.

“There is no one dead.” Childe blurts out, now or never. To be frank, he is absolutely shitting it. This is harder than fighting in the Abyss, worse than getting his ass kicked repeatedly by Traveller and that flying chicken that followed him around all the time-

“I seem to have misunderstood.” Zhongli watches him confusedly, teapot hanging forgotten on one hand. Childe can almost visualise him making that very same tea in his home in Snezhnaya, with the raging blizzards going strong outside, his soothing voice telling tales of dragons and giant monsters to his baby siblings to entertain them for a lack of anything better to do in the catastrophic winter. “You do not need my assistance?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not in that way.” Childe grunts, rubbing his eyes with both hands, stood ten feet away from Zhongli because he simply can’t stand the way his body burns when their shoulders brush together. The ex archon continues to look completely lost, his lips slightly open and his brows furrowed in his weak attempt to grasp the situation. Childe is stubborn, ridiculously brave at most instances, but above all, he is an idiot. And like an idiot, he says: “Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

Zhongli stills, blinking stupidly, unable to tell whether this was another one of the Harbinger’s jokes that their generational and cultural gap didn’t allow him to understand. He places the teapot down. “Excuse me?”

Childe wants to smack himself across the face. He forces out a loud laugh. “No, that was a joke!” He can feel the hairs on the side of his head sticking to his face. If the Abyss could swallow him again, now was the time. “What I mean is…” Childe takes in a deep breath. “Will you go out on a date with me?”

Zhongli stares at the wall across him, way past Ajax, into the eyes of some unseen divine force that is absolutely messing with him right then. “Did Hu Tao put you up to this?” After all, she always told him he needed to get laid, but he never understood where exactly he was supposed to be reclining. Mortal language had taken to weird expressions over the centuries.

“No, God, no,” Childe shakes his hands defensively. “Alright, mr. Zhongli, I’m so into you I can’t sleep at night, and I have been like that since I first saw you walking by Wanmin Restaurant, when you were trying some local delicacy and doing your ridiculous, bourgeoise critique on the authenticity of the flavours-” Childe goes quiet, his rant dying amidst its blooming as he watched Zhongli’s eyes soften and his brows tense, an unmistakable redness spreading over the adeptus’ face. “Mr. Zhongli?”

“Ajax, stop.” Zhongli hasn’t felt this flustered in thousands of years. He isn’t sure what it is about this human that is so awfully endearing, but it’s making him sear and liquify from the inside. “I’ll go out with you. We need to discuss the place and time, as well as the attire and the mood of the overall meeting, since leaving things unclear leads to misunderstandings that can not be resolved without-”

Ajax’s smile is stretching so wide across his face that he fears it’s going to split, a sudden ego boost booming so hard into his chest that he feels like he could fight the entire Fatui army and win. He takes a few steps forward and puts his hands on the table in front of the ex archon, hovering slightly above him. “Leave it to me.” He leans in closer and Zhongli can smell the exotic perfume on his skin. “There’s only one question left.”

“What?” Zhongli treads carefully, his jaw setting when a gloved hand finds his chin and tips his head back, fixing their gazes together.

“Have you ever kissed a Snezhnayan?”

#thank you so much for requesting this anon!! Here is zhongli and childe being so awkward u will probably cry #send me more questions if u guys want me to write smth #tartali #zhongchi #chili #tartaglia ajax #childe #childe genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli genshin impact #morax #childe x zhongli #genshin impact

[funtimebunnyblog]

Pillarmen with a s/o who’s terrified of the dark 🥺? She always clings to them if they’re near if the lights suddenly go out. She only feels safe in the dark of her pillarman is there to protect her 🥺

I really like the irony of this request! 🤔😆 4 ancient Aztec Vampire Gods (who have dwelled in darkness their entire existence) with a Mate who doesn't like the dark! 😂😂😂

In other words, please remember my dear Anon that no fear or phobia is too silly 🙂❤ Thank you very much for this submission and please enjoy!

The Pillarmen with an s/o who's afraid of the dark! 😱

(Under the cut for length!)

Nyctophobia: The extreme or irrational fear of the night or darkness...

Kars:

• To him, fears of any and all kinds are meaningless.

• This was because Kars was powerful, of course; every inch of him brimmed with strength unmeasured.

• Why should he hold very basic and useless fears for anything when he was above any threat?

• You had mentioned off handedly one or two times that you didn't like the dark, it didn't go unnoticed by him that there usually wasn't a room in the house without a light of some sort on, but he never really paid any mind to it.

• He didn't realize just how serious your "dislike" ran until one night during a nasty storm when the power went off.

• When the lights suddenly went out and the house was encased in pitch black it didn't so much as bother him as he could see just fine in the darkness.

• This was just a minor inconvenience in his eyes. As for you on the other hand...

• Your scream pierced the air like a siren, puncturing his heart like a nail to a balloon even from all the way downstairs.

• The very sound made his hair stand on end and every primal instinct he had to protect you activated at once.

• "KARS!" You shrieked. "KARS HELP!!!"

• The Pillarman was out of his seat in a fraction of a second, kicking down the door of his study and flying down the stairs two at a time to reach you.

• You must've fallen. You must've hurt yourself. You must be bleeding. Dying. Thousands of logical things were running through his mind as to why you were screaming like that.

• He found you backed into the far corner of the livingroom, still screaming, your arms entangled around yourself as if to try and protect yourself from some unknown danger.

• "Y/N!" He cried, reaching you at last. The very second you felt him near you, your arms flew around him in a desperate and clinging embrace, your screams dying down to sobs.

• Kars held you in his arms, eyes frantically scanning your quivering body. "What is it? Where are you hurt? Did you--"

• He was cut off suddenly. "DARK!"

• The massive man stopped, blinking stupidly. "What?" "It's dark! It's too DARK! IT'S TOO DARK!!!" You cried, shaking your head frantically as you hugged him even tighter.

• You were desperately trying to worm your way deeper into his arms; as if trying to hide and disappear from the dark world around you completely.

• The Pillarman stared owl eyed down at you; you were screaming... just because it was dark?

• Kars opened his mouth, ready to scold you for startling him so terribly and making him think that you were in some sort of real danger when suddenly... it all truly dawned on him.

• You were scared of the dark. This was legit and real, tangible fear to you... and you turned to him because you were afraid enough to think you needed protection.

• Frowning, he carried you to the couch and sat down, cradling you in his arms and allowing you to cling to him as tightly as you wanted. The storm continued to crash and rumble in the distance; it was likely the power would not be back on until morning.

• He wasn't going to let you sit in the dark all by yourself; struck with terror and crying inconsolably like so until dawn.

• "Shhhh, it's alright, my little light." He whispered, smoothing his big palm over your back as you continued to cry. "Close your eyes and it won't be so dark and listen to my voice..."

• As you did so, he encouraged you to take deep breaths, waiting for you to calm down just a little before carrying out his next action.

• "Just listen to me, breathe... that's it. And again... don't focus on anything else, just the sound of my voice." His breath tickled your ear as he spoke softly, buried in the crook of his neck.

• You could feel him smile softly against your skin, "Now, I want you to imagine that you're outside, standing in the loveliest field you've ever seen. Rows upon rows of colourful flowers greet you under the warm, golden sun..."

• Kars talked quietly to you for a good long while, calming you down and taking you on a trip via your mind as he rubbed your back; distracting you completely from your fear.

• The darkness shrouded both of you until morning but you had long forgotten about it, Kars' soft voice had lulled you into a deep sleep.

• He made sure from then on to take extra precautions for your fears and you could always count on him to console you and help you if the dark ever came around.

• Even though he was above phobias, he wasn't above your needs.

Esidisi:

• Esidisi laughed in the face of fears; spiders, heights, closed spaces, you name it! Anything of the like were nothing in his eyes.

• He had gotten so used to not fearing anything standing in his path, he forgot the fact that other people did indeed have legit fears.

• That didn't help the fact that he liked to tease people for being afraid of something (mostly when they were afraid of him).

• Because of that, you never told him that you were afraid of the dark; you were afraid he'd laugh at you or worse, tell you to grow up.

• Esidisi ended up finding out about your fear first hand one night when the power unexpectedly went out due to a powerline being hit somewhere on your grid.

• You had been sitting on the couch next to Esidisi, watching T.V when all of a sudden the T.V clicked off, the fan stopped spinning, the low hum of the fridge fell silent; everything quickly went dark.

• Immediately, you froze up, hands flying to your mouth to stiffle the shriek that wanted to rip through you as nothing but an infinite wall of black hit your vision.

• You tried to hold your composure, inevitably crumbling in the face of your worst fear. Terror squeezed your heart and lungs painfully, your head spun, the only thing keeping you grounded was a little voice in your head screaming "Don't panic!"

• Esidisi frowned, looking around the dark room. "Hmm, and I was enjoying that show too..." he groaned quietly, turning his gaze to you.

• He could see you clear as day where you sat, paralyzed, and a chuckle passed his lips; he thought you were just in shock from the sudden outage.

• "Oh, what's the matter, dear? Don't tell me you're scared now!" He laughed, prodding you in the side with a finger.

• His laughter fell silent when you didn't respond and he suddenly took notice of the fact that you were shaking, your hands gripping the couch like a vice, your breaths were starting to come quickly and audibly.

• That look on your face hit him square in the gut, he could now see the tears trickling down your cheeks... Oh... OH!

• The moment it dawned on him, he felt absolutely terrible. Why didn't he see this sooner?!

• Your could hear him rustling around in the dark (at least you prayed that it was Esidisi fumbling around) but couldn't see him of course.

• You let out a yelp in surprise when two hands suddenly grabbed you by the hips and you were picked up, dropped into a familiar and warm lap.

• Light. A single golden and red flame of a candle licking at the air hit your eyes blindingly from where it stood on the coffee table, captivating you in mere seconds with its brightness. Another lit. Then another. And another!

• Before you was an entire table of lit candles, casting the once endlessly dark livingroom in a soft warm glow. Surprised, you turned your eyes back to meet the loving smile of Esidisi, his olive skin ruddy in the candlelight.

• "There. Not so dark now, is it?" He asked, only hugging you closer. The warmth of his embrace was soothing, the light and the safety of his arms ebbing your fears just a little.

• He chuckled as you breathed out an audible sigh of relief, he could feel the tension drain from your body as you sank deeper into his hold.

• "You know, it's actually a very good meditative practice to sit and focus on the light of a candle." He murmured, a massive and heated hand wrapping around yours. "It stimulates the mind and helps soothe too. Perhaps we can try it for a bit, since there's nothing on Television..."

• Rest assured; Esidisi would never laugh at your fears. No matter what they were or how childish they seemed.

• As long as you had him around, he would act as your beacon in the darkness.

Wamuu:

• Like many people, Wamuu outgrew his fears.

• As a Pillarchild he was afraid of a few things but as he grew under his Masters tutelage and weaned to be a Fighter, he learned to face those fears and use them to harden himself into a Warrior.

• Now as a fully grown Pillarman, Wammu didn't hold fear for anything; fears would only give an opponent an advantage and any he had only drove him to cast them aside when they happened to arouse.

• He once told you about the many fears he overcame (you had asked him what he was like when he was small) and he questioned if you had done the same.

• You were quite the opposite. Hesitantly, you told him you still held quite a fear for the dark. You never conquered it.

• This surprised Wamuu but he didn't look down on you for it and he surprised you in turn when he asked if you wanted some help in learning to try and overcome your phobia.

• You accepted his offer and he began to "train" you gradually.

• He'd start by turning off "unnecessary" lights; like simple nightlights you'd keep on in hallways or lights not being used in another room. Then He'd move into having the room partially dark or having the hall dark with the bedroom door open while you slept.

• He never once pushed you and never went too far by putting you in complete dark.

• However, one night, an unexpected power outage hit the town. Immediately, you found yourself practically jumping into your Mates arms as the entire house was encased in darkness.

• "Breathe, my beloved." The Pillarman told you, a hand rubbing over your head. He let you grab onto him all you wanted watching over you in the dark. "Remember all our training together, the dark cannot hurt you. The dark is nothing, it does not wield weapons and it cannot strike..."

• You'd try. You'd try with all your might. Breathing so hard your lungs burned, trying to focus but failing and feeling yourself slowly becoming more consumed by your fear.

• However, this was an improvement. Had Wamuu not spent so much time "training" you, you would be absolutely screaming your head off right now.

• Tears prickled in your eyes. Your ears hypersensitive to every sound around you, almost jumping in your seat every time a floor creaked or the wind outside brushed against the house.

• It was slowly becoming too much to handle with every passing second. It was just too much! It was just too dark!

• Wamuu smiled softly, only holding you closer to him and allowing you to bury yourself in his neck; if it meant you felt safe, he would let you do so all you wanted.

• The Warrior put himself back to when he was a Child, remembering how he had clung to his Masters when struck with fear...

• He felt terrible you were still living and feeling such real fear to this day.

• Quietly, Wamuu began to hum an old lullaby. The vibrations of his wide and hard chest sent shivers through your whole body, like you were sitting in a massage chair at the Mall.

• His voice was deep and rich, the tune and the power of its tone distracting you of the fact you were sitting in complete darkness and keeping you grounded.

• Music had always helped him when he was scared and his Masters had always been excellent singers. It would seem he had the power to bestow the same effect on you.

• He sat there, holding you close and humming until you stopped shivering; he helped you only focus on him and not the darkness shrowding you.

• "Even though you cannot see, I can." He murmured, watching as you struggled to keep awake any longer; eyes falling open and closed helplessly.

• "I will keep watch and protect you in the dark." Those words were what sent you off to sleep in his arms. "I will always keep you safe, my little Warrior, until you feel ready to fight for youself."

• Wamuu could only hope he'll be a good enough teacher to help you until one day, you weren't afraid anymore.

Santana:

• Very similar to Wamuu, Santana had fears of his own as a small child.

• He wasn't as brave as Wamuu when it came down to facing them, more often he would learn to find ways to distract himself from his fears rather than find ways to overcome them.

• To this day, Santana feared very little but he never really showed that fear in him to onlookers.

• After getting a strange letter in the mail, Santana wouldcome to learn that you didn't hide your fears as well as he.

• He didn't know what a "planned outage" was but he simply deemed the notice "junk mail" (as you called it) and disposed of it.

• One day later, at around 8:30pm, the power shut off.

• "S-Santana!" You cried, eyes darting around helplessly in the darkness where you stood in the middle of the livingroom, knees quaking and too afraid to move a muscle. "Santana, wh-where are you?!"

• His head poked into the room, eyes falling on you with immediate confusion.

• "Help!" You were practically choking on your words now, the Pillarman stared in shock as you started to bawl. "Please, please help! It's dark! It's too dark!"

• His nostrils flared, he could practically smell the fear off you now as he watched you cower before him in the darkness. It was all too familiar to him.

• Without another thought he dashed back into the kitchen, the sounds of him fumbling around in the drawers hit your ears and only added to your ongoing anxiety.

• "San-Santana?!" You whimpered, thoughts of an intruder or unseen danger running rapidly through your head as the footsteps came back.

• Click! You were blinded by a bright blast of light, squinting and holding a hand against the powerful beam directed onto you. Santana stood before you with a flashlight in hand; the biggest and brightest one in the house.

• You breathed a sigh of utter relief, your throat stinging painfully from the gut wrenching and primal shot of fear you had just undergone, as you reached to take the flashlight.

• Santana, however, had other plans.

• In a split second, you were pushed down into the armchair and the flashlight dropped into your lap; its beam shinning onto the wall across the room.

• "What-- What are--?" The words died on your tongue as a shadow suddenly appeared in the beam. The shape of a dog.

• "Woof." Santana's voice was as deep and deadpan as always as he moved his fingers, making the dog "bark" for you. The antics only stunned and confused you for a solid moment before his hands shifted to cast the shape of a duck. "Quack."

• Shadow puppets? A little giggle rose up inside of you as you kept watching, suddenly utterly captivated and very entertained.

• Santana wasn't the best at putting sounds to the shapes he cast but he was most excellent at using his hands to make very convincing silhouettes.

• In fact; he made you laugh so hard at one point by trying to convincingly "Meow" you were rocking in the chair!

• When the lights came back on suddenly, you blinked in absolute shock. A whole hour had passed and you had completely forgotten about the fact that you had been sitting in the dark the whole time!

• Santana smiled softly as you looked at him, gobsmacked. "How-- Why did--" You couldn't even form the words. "I am afraid of heights." His voice cut you off, the words spoken only stunning you further into silence.

• His eyes cast to the floor, "I am afraid of falling." He continued. "When I am somewhere up high, I try to focus on the sky or the birds or the stars rather than down below. When I am distracted, I am not afraid."

• You could only blink at this revelation. Santana just confided that he had fears of his own and he had spent the past hour making sure to distract you from yours.

• Next time, when the power went out or when you were sitting somewhere way up high, the both of you were well prepared to distract one another and laugh the time away until it was over...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #wamuu x reader #esidisi x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers (Minus Asmo) at Their Worst Pt. 2 (Satan, Beel, Belphie)

This is still a lot darker than I usually post so please take the warnings seriously. Soft content will probably return after this because being real? Pain hurts and writing pain kinda hurts too. I like my life fluffy because it helps me unwind, you know? For any of you who dwell in darkness, here is my humble offering. I hope you’ve enjoyed because that would make all the effort worth it in the end. Will I go this dark again at some point? Maybe. Suggestions will always be appreciated, but know that it’s not an area in my comfort zone.

Check out the Masterlist for more.

Warnings: THEIR SINS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO AN EXTREME (AND ALL THAT IMPLIES), Abusive/Controlling Relationships, Yandere-ish, Violence, Gore, Cannibalism, Angst, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Intro: Maybe the MC should have known better. It should have sunk in a long time ago that they were in incredibly risky territory... They should have remembered that these men, though they call them friends, family, and perhaps even lovers, are still demons at their heart and core. Each of them are the embodiment of some of the worst behaviors man has to offer... MC, there are some people you just shouldn’t date, even if they love you, and now you suffer the consequences...

Satan

If there was any one flaw people could point to with Satan it was his temper. Truly something befitting his sin, it burned white hot and could ignite like a flash fire. 

It was the MC who came in and finally brought him a bit of peace. Sure, he could still get mad, but for once he felt like he relied less on his facade. He felt like he could actually be relaxed and not let his anger control him...

But Wrath is more than just anger. It’s irrational. It’s undiscerning. It’s… spite. So. Much. Spite.

That’s why even after the storm of rage within him quelled, Satan was far from the perfect lover. 

He just couldn’t seem to let things go... Anything that the MC did, every little thing he disapproved of, he kept on a running tally. He didn’t like himself for it but he almost couldn’t help it. Every misstep had to be admonished and every jab had to be repaid. Maybe not right then… But he always had his way in the end. 

For small things, it was annoying at best. Being the knowledgeable man he is it’s fairly easy for him to lord his superior intelligence over people, the MC included. If they just went along with him and the boat would stay righted...

For larger things, the cracks begin to surface. No one likes a know-it-all telling how to live, after all. But Satan never cared to hear their complaints. He knows what’s best and he would “kindly” remind them of this by bringing up every mistake they’d ever made before. Any insult they lobbed, he had three waiting to counter.

It was all just repayment. If they wanted to hurt him, then he should get to hurt them back shouldn’t he?

If someone had reminded him that relationships aren’t transactional then maybe he’d have seen the problem sooner… If someone had intervened and told him he was actually being far from fair, he might have rethought his position... But no one else saw those warning signs. It was just Satan being Satan. Wrath made flesh.

He was legitimately shocked when the MC finally cracked one day. They were in yet another argument (one where he was winning) but he just had to throw in one last dig. One final insult to the pile... One more mistake they had made...

It was genuinely just a reflexive move that sent the MC flying against his bookshelves after they lunged at him. He didn’t think, he just acted and tossed them back with full force. He’s a demon though, so it wasn’t exactly pretty.

Seeing their crumpled form on the ground sent his mind into a panic... What did he just do?? His brothers came rushing in and accused him of throwing them in anger, but for once he had a clear head! Or… so he thought...

While the MC’s body recovered, their bones mending and blood vessels repairing, he realized that he hadn’t been thinking clearly at all. It was nothing but spite that drove him to cause them so much mental pain… A spite from within him that he’d let hurt even the person he loved most…

Satan shut himself away from others for a while. He felt defeated... Even after thinking he had a better handle on his anger, that he had grown into something more than the sin that made him, he was only ever acting on his Wrath to start with…

His breakup with the MC was painful but in his eyes well-warranted. He just couldn’t stop himself from hurting them...

Beelzebub

Beel is always hungry and that’s practically a universal law by now. There’s always an empty pit in his stomach just looking to be briefly satisfied by food of any kind... 

It’s that brief satisfaction he chases like a junkie does his high. Sometimes he can’t even control his body’s need to devour, he’ll see food and just lunge for it. He’s a Glutton and it’s no secret.

Yet the MC made that pain he felt just a little more manageable. He couldn’t explain it, but they just made him less hungry... And for that, he wanted to protect them forever.

Unfortunately, it all happened in the one place they should have been the safest. Right there next to him in bed, their body pressed against his while his arms held them close. Nothing should have hurt them there, not a single demon would have dared to try…

...so why did it have to be him...?

He was having a terrible nightmare. He felt the ever-present pain in his stomach getting worse and worse. It was as if he could feel it in his very bones just this empty, gnawing, festering need to eat and consume whatever he could to make the pain just go away and-

He woke up to their screams.

Belphie had him pinned before he could process what had happened. All he could hear was a wail of pure agony from across the room and he could taste…

Meat. Metallic… Raw… He swallowed without thinking. But once he saw the source, it made him feel truly sick...

MC had left the bed and was crouched against the farthest wall, a blanket in their hand desperately trying to apply pressure to their shoulder. The blanket was soaked with blood…

A deep, lacerated bite wound lied underneath.

He had tried to eat them…

His other brothers were in the room in record time while Belphegor screamed at him. Questions of “What happened??” “What’s wrong with you?!?” “How could you!?” all leapt from their mouths.

He didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t believe it himself. He wanted to wash his mouth out with gasoline then never open it again… sew it shut for all he cared…

His brothers just might have murdered him that night if the MC hadn’t intervened, still wincing from the pain. Maybe they saw his tears and took pity…?

They tried to reassure him that they knew it was an accident. They said they knew he’d never hurt them on purpose, even as the blood soaked through their shirt… But for some reason that just made him feel worse. Why couldn’t he just control himself like everyone else could…??

Even after their wound was treated and started to heal over he began to keep his distance from them… He couldn’t stand to risk them getting hurt again and he couldn’t trust himself not to do it. If they tried to reach out, he’d pull back. If they approached, he’d back away…

Honestly? It’s better this way...

Belphegor

Belphie could say that the MC did far more for him than just getting him out of that attic. They changed him... or more accurately, they helped him heal. There were just some things about him that even they couldn’t change...

If someone wanted to know what made him so tired, they could point to his sin. But Sloth does more than just make him sleepy... he was a lazy bastard too.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t expect everyone else around him to still give him 100% anyway, the MC especially. Truly, if there were ever four words to describe a relationship with Belphie they'd be: all take, no give.

It wasn’t that he was uncaring, it was just that he always seemed to want more than he was willing to give back... The MC’s time, attention, interest, and love all had to be for him at the drop of a hat but they could never expect him to do the same…

Of course, being lazy is one thing… but Belphie was manipulative, too.

He knew all manner of ways to get people to do things for him, even if they don’t want to. His favorite weapons against a reluctant MC were charm, flirtation, and guilt tripping… so much guilt tripping…

Say no to him and suddenly they must not love him enough. Or maybe they just don’t care, huh? He’d had a long day at RAD, his brothers were driving him crazy, and all he wanted was just this one little favor from them. Just one little thing. Was really too much to ask?

Never mind that his “little favor” would just be one of a thousand that came before it or that when they asked for small favors in return, half the time he was either asleep or couldn’t be bothered.

Never mind how used they felt as time wore on… unappreciated and exploited no matter how much they showered him with love...

Any time they brought it up, he'd just act disappointed with them. Like, somehow the problem wasn't that he was asking for too much but they just couldn't keep up. And he was so damn persuasive he actually had them believing it for a while... But only a while.

Now, Belphie did love them. He loved them a lot, actually, almost as deeply as he does for Beel or did for Lilith... And that's why it stung So. Bad. when they said they wanted to leave him.

Breakup? With him? Why?? He honestly thought they couldn't be happier! They showed that they loved for him time and time again so why did they suddenly want to leave? Without them he'd start feeling all alone again...

So he asked, well. No. Actually he shouted. 

He couldn't let them leave, not after he'd come to need them...! They did so much for him after all, couldn't they see they were his world? His heart? His everything??

He thought that he could still convince them not to go but they wouldn’t listen... He tried being charming, then he tried pleading... when those didn’t work he made a few threats then-

Beel's fist slamming into his cheek is what tore his hands from their neck after he went through a Complete. Meltdown. He had never seen his twin so mad at him before… 

Beel had him by the collar, shouting about how he had been running the MC ragged and how terribly he had been treating them… Belphie didn’t believe him at first but it slowly started to hit him. 

His slothful entitlement had made him so selfish… He not only asked the world of them then took them for granted, but it also blinded him to his fault in the whole thing... He wanted them to be his everything but he just wouldn’t accept his responsibility to be a good boyfriend to them in return…

Their shouting had apparently alerted the whole house and his brothers came in to investigate. The amount of anger that filled the room when they saw the MC curled on the floor, gasping for air, could have fueled a thousand Satans...

He didn’t want to keep away from them. He wanted to apologize and actually try this time but his brothers wouldn’t let him. He had hurt the MC twice now, so he just couldn’t be trusted… As far as they were concerned he could never be left alone with them again but the way MC avoided him too probably hurt the worst of all…

Maybe he should have never gotten that second chance after all...

Link to Part One: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #im so sorry beel #i feel slanderous #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

(pt 1) i really enjoy all your atla analyses & you've done a great job breaking down the usual arguments re how eip shows that kataang shouldn't have happened. i'm curious about your take on one specific argument that i just saw today, in an analysis of the show by a zker that was otherwise quite good and respectful (i know you've already talked about eip a lot, so no problem if you don't feel like rehashing). the premise: aang didn't just pressure katara in eip, he threatened her.

(pt 2) they point to when katara joins aang & asks if he’s alright: “aang: no, i’m not! i hate this play! katara: i know it’s upsetting, but it sounds like you’re overreacting. aang: overreacting? if i hadn’t blocked my chakra, i’d probably be in the avatar state right now!” the suggestion is he’s threatening her when he says ‘i’d probably be in the avatar state right now’ to describe his anger. i think this take exaggerates and oversimplifies it, but interested in your thoughts on it.

Hello my friend!! It is true I am Old inside and don’t like rehashing dhdlksjslks BUT your comments on my posts are always incredibly kind and insightful so I am more than willing to do a bit of rehashing for you 🥰 Besides! I’ve seen this general take before a few times and it’s always irked me for the exact reason you point out - it simultaneously exaggerates and oversimplifies the situation (and honestly that’s an impressive duality since it’s seemingly contradictory, so hats off to them lmaooo) - and now is as good a time as any to address it. So, for starters, let’s go ahead and get the excerpt they love to focus on so much:

Cut to Aang standing alone on a balcony. Katara enters and walks up to him.

Katara: Are you all right?

Aang: [Angered.] No, I’m not! I hate this play! [Yanks his hat off and throws it on the ground.]

Katara: I know it’s upsetting, but it sounds like you’re overreacting.

Aang: Overreacting? If I hadn’t blocked my chakra, I’d probably be in the Avatar State right now!

Here’s the thing about so-called analyses of this excerpt: in a manner extremely convenient to the poster, they never seek to contextualize this moment. (I mean, to do so would deplatform their entire “argument” - perhaps that’s why they avoid performing a full analysis?) So let’s avoid that pitfall from the start.

Firstly, below are some links to related posts; I’m going to do my best to summarize the most relevant parts, but for anyone who desires greater detail, I gotchu 😤

This post explains why EIP (the play, lol) is imperialist propaganda and is intended to belittle the entire Gaang.

This post explains how Aang never acted “entitled” to Katara’s affections, particularly in regard to EIP.

This post breaks down the infamous EIP kiss like Snopes Fact Checker, covering common misconceptions, important perspectives to consider, etc.

Alright. With that out the way, it’s time for some context.

Aang and Katara have this conversation on the balcony after watching 95% of “The Boy in the Iceberg,” a play chock-full of Fire Nation propaganda that demeans the entire Gaang in order to prop up the Fire Nation as superior (hence why the play ends with Ozai’s victory). Here is my general breakdown of Aang and Katara’s treatment in particular from a previous post:

- katara, an indigenous woman, is highly sexualized and portrayed as overly dramatic and tearful, because the fire nation objectifies women not of their own people and views them as less intelligent and less emotionally stable

- aang, the avatar, the sole survivor of the fire nation’s genocide of the air nomads who is incredibly in-touch with his spirituality and femininity, is portrayed as an overly-airy and immature woman. the fire nation portrays him with a female actor to demean him (like, that’s classic imperialistic propagandist tactics) and furthermore writing his character as a childish airhead reinforces the fire nation sentiment that the air nomads were weak, foolish people who did not deserve to exist in their world

In other words, these kids have just watched almost an entire play that preys upon their insecurities and depicts them using racist and sexist stereotypes about their respective nations. It is completely understandable that tensions might run a little high and that their interactions would not be as balanced as usual (Katara and Aang have a great track record of communicating well with each other, as it happens!).

So we have to keep that in mind when examining the aforementioned excerpt. But there are other factors to consider, too! Namely: they are kids. Children. Teens. Aang is 12, Katara is 14.

If we want to be scientific, a person’s brain doesn’t finish developing until they are 25, lmao, and the preteen/teen years are when the prefrontal cortex that controls “rationality,” “judgement,” “forethought,” etc. is still developing. This doesn’t mean Aang and Katara are irrational and make poor decisions 24/7 (obviously not), but it does mean that in an intense, highly emotional situation, like after watching a play that intentionally demeans them and depicts them as inferior, they are more likely to overreact, more likely to be emotional, and more likely to make mistakes. Like, I’m serious, lol. “Teens process information with the amygdala.” That’s part of the brain that helps control emotions! It’s why teens sometimes struggle to articulate what we’re thinking, especially in situations that require instinct/impulse and quick decisions, because we’re really feeling whenever we make those choices. Acting more on emotion. Our brains simply haven’t finished developing the decision-making parts, lmao.

In sum: Aang and Katara are both kids, not adults, and should be interpreted as such. This doesn’t negate their intelligence, because they are both incredibly smart and Aang is arguably the wisest of the Gaang, but they are human. Young humans. They have emotions, and we should not be so cruel as to assume they’d never act on them.

So taking that all together, we can now acknowledge the high stress Aang and Katara are under, understand why they might be upset (*cough* imperialist propaganda is hurtful *cough*), and examine how their youth might play into their emotional reactions. And funny thing - all analyses that come to the conclusion of Aang “threatening” Katara here do not usually bother with this context. I can’t imagine why!

And you know what, let’s add one more piece of context: Sokka states that Aang left the theater “like, ten minutes ago,” which is what cues Katara to go look for him on the balcony. The reason I mention this line is because to me, it suggests Aang knew he was more worked up than usual! He chose to separate himself from his friends so he could process his frustration! He did not take his anger at the play out on them; instead, he purposefully took time and space to be alone.

With that in mind, I don’t understand at all how Aang’s Avatar state quote could be interpreted as a threat? Canonly, Aang is someone who was aware enough of his frustration to separate himself from the others - yet the logical next step is him threatening Katara as a result? He knew his intense emotions were because of the play (which he says himself), so the logical conclusion is that he then pinned the fault on Katara? What?? Sorry, that interpretation has no textual basis, lmao. But I digress!

Aang tells Katara, “If I hadn’t blocked my chakra, I’d probably be in the Avatar State right now!” As you said, this is the line people point to in an attempt to justify their (baseless) conclusion that Aang is “threatening” Katara. So let’s bring in the two key pieces of context: imperialist propaganda and age. Given that Aang is 12, and given that Aang has just watched almost a full play that demeans him and everything his people stood for (and let’s not forget it also mocks his and Katara’s love for each other)…

His reaction is understandable. An exaggeration and needlessly dramatic, but understandable. He feels vulnerable and insecure and Aang is human. He is human and flawed and he overreacts here and I love that A:TLA shows how even our heroes, even people who are truly good at heart and in soul, can get overly upset (especially given the aforementioned circumstances!). Would Aang actually be in the Avatar state at that moment, had it been possible? Of course not! He’s young and he’s hurt and as such he says something dramatic to convey his anxieties and frustrations. The line is not meant to be taken literally, and seeing people do so despite all the factors that should be taken into consideration when analyzing it… Cue a long, tired sigh from me and so many other A:TLA fans.

And to be honest? I cannot fathom how people watch this episode and come to the conclusion that Aang is “threatening” Katara. To me, this episode - besides being a recap episode - is one that humanizes our cast even further. Aang snaps at Katara, kisses her when he shouldn’t (which the story appropriately treats as wrong). Katara pushes down her true feelings and retreats into herself, afraid to start a relationship with the boy she loves because she’s already lost him once before and can’t bear to do so again. Zuko further confronts the hurt he’s enacted upon others, especially upon Iroh. Toph practices being vulnerable and accepting vulnerability from others by conversing with Zuko. Sokka witnesses how others have erased his contributions and labelled him as nothing more than the token nonbender in the group. Even Suki learns that she is not the only person who holds a place in Sokka’s heart and that she can never replace what he has lost.

To watch this episode where our heroes must come to terms with how the Fire Nation deems them inherently inferior, with how they have more fights to overcome in the future with the Fire Nation than a single war, and to come to the conclusion that… that what, Aang is abusive? A monster? Irredeemable? That he would threaten his best friend, someone he loves in every way?

Wow. That says more than enough about the viewer, doesn’t it?

#getting back into the swing of things babey ✌️ #aang #katara #kataang #kataangtag #the ember island players #atla #avatar the last airbender #amy answers #dramaticowl #amy analyzes #also i am speaking in GENERAL TERMS here lmaooo this is not a direct response to any one post 😂😂

[kannra21]

Sniperhaul fanfic

ˡᵐᵃᵒ ᶦ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ'ᵐ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦˢ

Overhoe finally broke out of Tartarus after a very long time. However, he couldn't have done it without the help of a certain villain mistress. 😏 Who's she and why did she choose to help this terrible (x2) man? Find out bellow.

characters: overhaul (chisaki kai) x sniper lady

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, past memories, handless overhaul, hurt, comfort, gangs, yakuza, just girl taking care of her mans

notes: I'd like to thank the person responsible for proofreading this work bc I'm supposed to keep their identity a secret. 😎 Thank you once again! And of course, the manga and characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi. @meefal you were excited to see the final product so here you go, hope you like it. 🖤

✂-------------------------------------------------------

Overhaul couldn't remember how long he'd been there, he'd lost count weeks ago. The only thing he knew was that he was in "Tartarus", a prison located 5km off the coast of the Mainland. It may function like a conventional prison, but in reality, those who're deemed a severe threat toward the safety of the nation were locked up and monitored closely, regardless of whether their sentence has been decided on yet. The facility was divided into 6 levels, where the potential threat level of criminals was deemed "higher" the further underground you go. It's a prison where, once you enter, there's no chance of leaving.

He sat there in his cell, B10 being the lowest level in solitary confinement. It was too cold for his head to function and too dark for his eyes to see, with the small window above the prison doors being his only source of light. There was also an opening where prisoners received their meals, but considering that he lost his hands, the guards could easily enter without worrying too much for their well-being. They'd leave whatever they offered that day and give him a disgusted look before locking the doors after themselves. He couldn't see his reflection nor touch his face, he probably looked like crap by now. His skin was itching and he felt disoriented from all the germs occupying this space, it's been a while since he's gone out for some fresh air. 

He was practically Quirkless and yet they locked him out in the worst, most dreadful place the isolation block had to offer. He couldn't even feed himself properly, he couldn't do anything by himself whatsoever. But there was only one thing left to him; he spent days and days thinking about pops, Chrono, yakuza and everything he could have if it weren't for those stupid heroes-- no, if it weren't for his plan that so grandiosely failed. It made him feel miserable, desperate even, and with grief soon followed acceptance. It was all his fault, and he needed to live with this burden for the rest of his life. Because of him, pops is still handicapped to the bed somewhere, wherever the heroes might have taken him. 

He stood up and started beating the cell with his leg, curing his frustrations. He didn't know why he was doing it, it was irrational and he's hurting himself unnecessarily, but for some reason it made him feel lighter. At least he could transfer some of his inner pain to the outside world. Other criminals laughed at his patheticness, especially since they knew why the guards were allowed to enter his cell. They shouted that it was impossible to escape, but he wasn't trying to. He knew that it was useless a long time ago. 

Midnight came and all the prisoners mostly fell asleep. Overhaul, however, couldn't sleep a wink. Because of the dark room he spent most of his days in, he lost his sense of time so he was pacing around, deep in thought. He couldn't dream of anything nice anyways. 

"Can't fall asleep either?" a feminine voice could be heard from the other side. Wait. They allowed women here? What could she have possibly done to deserve such punishment? 

He leaned his back on the doors and slid down to the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Yes." he sighed, enthusiasm lacking in his voice "But it's not like I need you to talk about my problems." 

"Hm, whatever. Go beat your head against the bars. Fall unconscious, loser."

The man snorted, which might as well be his first time he ever did that. 

"Well, this certainly sounds effective. It's not like I have anything to lose anyways." 

"Hey." the tone of her voice was earnest, and it aroused further questions in his jumbled up head. 

"What?"

"We're going to get out of here." 

Is she being serious now? "Really? Because as far as I know, we're locked out here for good. We don't even know the severity of our sentences. They can do whatever they want with us."

"Not quite. You know that they're being supervised by 'The Hearts and Mind' party offshoots. They can’t do a thing to us as long as they have their heads to the pikes." 

This might be true, but he didn't believe in anything the government's been telling them lately. It's only a matter of time before they switch their plans and play by their own rules, because stabbing people in the back was the only thing they've ever been good at. 

"How did you end up here?" 

Oh the long-awaited question. She wondered when he'd ask. 

"It's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

He smiled, he liked this vicious side of hers. But he also realized that she could be nice as well because if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't spread promises of the escape. At least that's what he thought. 

"Sorry about that." 

"It's okay. We've all been here for a very long time, now weren't we? We lose our cool and act like total assholes."

"Direct and straight to the point I see." his deadpan voice could be heard from the other side of the bars. 

"'Been raised this way, for the better or worse." it didn't sound like she was bragging, yet it felt like she was just talking about herself, honest and confident, to cover up what she felt was wrong. The incoming topic which she'd rather avoid. 

The villainess didn't want to open up about her past, so she just answered his question. 

"I killed people beyond counting, following AFO's orders. He always wished to become the world's greatest demon lord and thus promised us enormous change in the hero society. So in order to achieve that, he needed his underlings. And that's how I ended up here."

"You were loyal till the end."

"You know what they say; there can be no progress nor achievement without certain sacrifice."

Wise beyond her years and just as sad. He wondered how her face looked like, how the world's been treating her. 

"I had my own sacrifices as well."

"Do you regret them?"

...

"I do." 

Now it was her turn to snort "Really? And I thought that people situated this low couldn't have regrets. You remember what they said about us. 'Beasts in human clothing', 'Simply dreadful beings'." 

He felt insulted, maybe the things she said were true but it's not like he was anything similar to these pigs he shared the same air with, unfortunately.

"I regret hurting the person important to me. The old man who once took me in when I was very young. He was the infamous boss of Shie Hassaikai." 

Something clicked in her, it's such a small world they're living in, "Yakuza? I know you guys. We used to trade with you back in the days."

"Todou Gang?" 

"You said it."

"But... you were a force to be reckoned with. One day you just collapsed and not a single trace could be found. According to certain sources, there was no way anyone could determine the exact cause of your downfall. So what happened?" 

"I killed them all." 

... 

"AFO told me to kill them to prove my loyalty to him and, of course, to make sure that there was no one I could turn to other than himself." 

For some questionable reasons, and he didn't dare to admit that it was empathy he felt towards a random stranger and a former gang member he shared some history with, Overhaul wanted to fill the silence that lingered between them. Perhaps, because he felt guilty for making her reveal more than what she initially intended. 

"I used pops' niece, a 6-year-old girl who had an extraordinary Quirk; it allowed her to rewind a person's body back to a certain state. That means she could put a body back to before it was injured or before the person even developed a Quirk. With that, I wanted to create a Quirk-erasing drug to get rid of the Quirk society altogether and to make sure that yakuza could rise once again. I cut her skin every day to take blood samples and to test her regenerative abilities. However, pops didn't approve of it, so I handicapped him to the bed and planned on waking him up the moment I realized my plan, to make him proud of the achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't play out as I wanted and I never reached him."

The silence followed and the woman wore a disheartening smile on her face. It's not the answer she expected, she didn't ask for another sad story from another messed up person she's met in her life. But the intentions were pure and for her, it was good enough. 

"We both fought for something only to lose it all, huh?" she laughed, but it was prominent in her tone that it was bittersweet. 

"At least you're brought here in one piece." 

"At least you can still revive your parent."

Were they comforting each other? Were they jealous of each other? Were they wallowing in self-pity? They couldn't tell. The only thing they certainly could was the embarrassment they felt from the moment they realized that some of the prisoners were eavesdropping and making fun of their vulnerabilities. See? That's what they hated the most about opening up about themselves; they were worried about their feelings being perceived as a joke. The only way to protect themselves was to rise up the walls and never let anyone get closer, except they didn't regret exchanging a word or two, as long as it was the two of them. 

The next day, 8:34PM Mainland-side entrance, the guardians of 'The Bronze Gate' announced a code red security lockdown. Panic and shouting could be heard from across the hall and the security alarm announced the potential danger. 

"Close any and all passageways on each floor. All workers are to enforce strict measures to maintain order."

"The surveillance system is down! It seems like we've been hit by some sort of EMP attack!"

Static waves were spreading around the metal frames and the prison doors of the isolation block unlocked. Overhaul could hear the commotion outside and the villains leaving their cells in a hurry, but as much as he tried, he couldn't push the heavy doors open.

"3 seconds until we're back online- wait... What the... With the system down we can't monitor the inside!"

"Nice, 3 seconds be damned." he beat the door with his legs, pushed the surface with his shoulders, leaned all of his weight on the godforsaken thing just so it could finally open. Nothing. It seems like he lost a couple of pounds during his stay here. He couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening to him. After all this time of patient waiting and hoping to meet pops once again, it turns out he'd be the only one still trapped and all because he didn't have any hands. He panicked, he really couldn't decide on what to do next. But then he remembered-

"Go beat your head against the bars, loser."

That's it! This might be his only chance to escape! He didn't have much time left though, he could hear the shooting nearby so he definitely needed to hurry.

"The system won't come back on!! The ones in solitary confinement are breaking out!! Inside!"

"Control unit's on site!! Execute lockdown in the isolation block!"

"Follow procedure! If even one of them steps a foot outside their cell-"

"Fire!! Open fire!!"

Muscular threw whatever he could find in this messed up place back at them, excitement prominent in his big smile "You ain't gonna kill me with those puny toys! So how about you show me the exit already?!" 

Other villains were joining him, still overwhelmed by the sudden freedom they've been given "Dammit... After all that time..."

"Meat..." Moonfish mumbled as he cut his opponents with his blade-like teeth. 

The villain lady joined them in the run, still carefully examining her surroundings in case they were tricked into something, "The system isn't responding to my Quirk. 'Guess Tartarus really is falling." 

As she was running down the corridor, she could hear beating noises coming from one of the doors. It sounded dull so the person must have been using their head. 

"Eh, don't tell me the idiot actually listened to my advice. He must be desperate." 

She came to the doors and turned the circular lock in a hurry. She really didn't want to stay in this place any longer, but she couldn't leave him behind either. It's not like she could use him for anything since he was basically handless and Quirkless so why was she doing it? She didn't have an answer. Maybe it was their talk from the other day, maybe because they were both gang members with a history, maybe because of her regrets and her wish to do something right for once. Or maybe because she was just this kind. Nah, this couldn't be it, she never did anything in her life that didn't require a certain purpose. She cast her heart aside a long time ago and did what was necessary for the accomplishment of the mission. It would be weird if she suddenly started using her heart again, now wouldn't it? She was AFO's personal assassin, there was simply no way. 

He came out of the room with eyes wide in puzzlement. He was finally free and ready to find pops so he could possibly revive him and try to fix things as much as he could.

They looked at each other for the first time. They never said it aloud, godforbid, but they liked the other's eyes. And perhaps the eyes were a window to a person's soul, their broken souls, tormented by the life's temptations. They were still so young, probably in their twenties, and yet they looked older at the same time. Maybe because of the seriousness in their faces, their stronger stance, the way they defied their fate. They were destined to fall apart, no one would argue with it, but circumstances drove them to take action and rise from the bottomless chasm. And now they had each other. 

"We need to get out of here," she stated and pulled him by the sleeve that hung loosely from his shoulder. They escaped Tartarus and raided a small shop near the coast to change clothes and to mingle into the public unnoticed. She quickly picked out a dress and threw herself at work while Overhaul was still standing by the shop display, looking out for the potential intruders.

He couldn't erase the thought of this being some sort of a really weird first date; the girl coming out of the stall and the guy examining her looks. He shook his head, he never had this kind of thoughts in his entire life. He needed to pull himself together. 

The bob-hair came out and adjusted the ammo on her utility belt. He looked at her from the corner and she was stunning; intimidating with a tad bit of femininity in design. He stood there and watched how good it fit her curvy form. The thoughts wandering in his head sounded so wrong, terribly wrong. He needed to bring himself to stop. 

"Oh right, I almost forgot." she took a shirt off the shelf and came to him, showing him the garment in her hands "You need a little help, right?" 

"Sure.'' his voice was small and he stood still while she undid his buttons. Maybe from the outside he looked completely calm, but from the inside he was a complete mess. He looked at her face and wondered if she knew, the kind of effect she's having on him. She raised her head and he looked to the side, there's no way he could look her in the eyes at this point. He hoped she didn't notice. 

"You like this one, don't you?" she asked, filling the awkward silence. 

"Looks don't matter, the most important thing is to change and avoid getting caught." She looked annoyed. Great. He wanted to shove his head though the wall. Wait… Why was he thinking that? 

"I choose the clothes I like. It makes me feel better in my skin."

"You look good in it."

She looked at him surprised and he quickly corrected himself "the dress looks good."

"Sure." she trailed off and put the new shirt over his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tensing. This was probably because of the cool air, she assured herself. 

"Why did you break me out of Tartarus? It's not like I could be of any use to you." 

She buttoned up his shirt and fixed the wrinkled parts on the garment, hand accidentally brushing over the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Well... that was a surprise.

"I thought that maybe you could be of some use to the demon lord. Not Quirk-wise, but you may offer a valuable set of information. Something that the demon lord would appreciate greatly." she could feel it slowing down and her heart dropped just as much.

"But also because I... liked you."

He looked at her incredulously and she smiled. She pinched him to bring him out of the trance and he complained. "Don't be awkward, say something."

"I like you too... I, this is my first time I ever said this to anyone. It's weird."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder and he reached to take it but, yea, no hands.

"What the hell?"

"You're the one who's weird. But I guess that I like you this way." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek "Ew, you should definitely shave though. No doubt about it."

The former yakuza boss swore; he'll never understand women. But for some reason he couldn't deny that he was particularly drawn to this one. He wondered if pops would approve of her.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #overhaul #chisaki kai #sniperhaul #shie hassaikai #ch 311 #bnha spoilers #bnha fic #crack ship #parody

[awhitehead17]

His Tiny Person

TimKon, Soulmates AU, Canon Divergence, Mini Soulmates, Humour, that “oh” moment, Realisation of feelings, Getting together.

Summary: "Kryptonian's have something called soulmates and every single Kryptonian has one. We know who our soulmates are because mini versions of them manifest to us. To begin with you won't recognise them, or even know their name, until you actually meet them in person. You will meet, you are destined to, but whether you get along or not is another story."

When Kon finds a tiny person hanging around him he's extremely confused but comes to adore him anyway. However its still a complete shock when Kon learns that he's known his soulmate for years and has just never realised it.

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D  

No matter what anyone says, Kon believes that the freak out he has is very much warranted.

After getting out of the shower, Kon wrapped a towel around his waist before entering his bedroom and without any conscious thought he goes through his routine of getting ready for the day. The last thing he had expected to see was a tiny person perched on a pillow on his bed.

In all of his glory Kon let out a yell and scrambled backwards in surprise, his back quickly hits a wall which stops him from going anywhere. The tiny person on his bed openly stares at Kon and it feels like he’s being studied or even judged by him.

Kon stares back completely bewildered at the sight. There’s a tiny person on his bed. How did he get there? Who was he? Where did he come from? Is this some kind of prank?

“Conner, is everything alright?” Ma Kent’s voice could be heard calling him from downstairs. “We heard a yell.”

Still staring at the tiny person Kon tries to get himself together. He shuffles to his bedroom door, never taking his eyes off the person, and opens it. Over his shoulder he calls down to her. “Sorry Ma, I saw a spider. It caught me off guard that’s all. It’s all sorted now.”

“Okay dear if you’re sure. Breakfast is ready when you are.”

“Will be down in a bit, thank you.”

Kon quickly closes the door and debates on what to do. He takes a moment to observe the tiny person. The tiny person is a boy, he has messy black hair, two blue eyes, thin lips, a small body lean body covered by a red t-shirt and black sweatpants.

Kon has no idea what this is, however, weirdly enough he’s feeling a pull towards this tiny person. He can’t describe what it is but Kon feels kind of protective over him, like he wants to just wrap this tiny person up and hide him away from everything. The feeling is completely irrational because Kon knows absolutely nothing about what this could be.

The tiny person stands up and makes his way across Kon’s bed until he’s standing near the edge of it. Kon couldn’t help but find him adorable, he’s so small! He’s not much bigger than his hand in size comparison.

Kon approaches the bed carefully and crouches down so he's almost eye level with him. When they make eye contact the tiny person smiles brightly and Kon feels another pull inside of him, this time its sharp and releases a sense of warmth through him. His heart melts even more for this little thing.

“Hi, do you have name? Where did you come from?” Kon asks softly. The tiny person shakes his head and Kon frowns. “Oh okay. Well I’m Kon or Conner, its nice to meet you.”

“Conner your breakfast is getting cold!” Ma Kent’s voice comes from downstairs again and Kon knows he really should get going.

He turns back to the tiny person. Should he tell Ma Kent about this or not? How would the Kent’s react to this? Kon is still rather new to the whole family thing, he’s only recently moved in with them and is in fact still adjusting to life in Smallville, would this freak them out? Maybe he should work out what this person is doing here first before telling them anything.

With that in mind Kon sends him a small smile. “I’ve got to go have breakfast now, but once I’m done I can work out what to do with you.” He stands up and heads for the door but is stopped short when he hears a small thump.

Kon looks over to find the bed now void of the tiny person, initial panic rises up inside of him though it’s quickly diminished when he feels a tugging sensation on his jeans. Snapping his gaze down Kon finds the tiny person insistently tugging on his jeans with a panicked look on his face.

For unknown reasons, Kon’s heart breaks at the look. “Hey, I’m not leaving. I won’t be long, I promise.” The person shakes his head and without warning starts climbing up Kon’s leg, grabbing fists full of fabric to help him on his journey and he doesn’t stop climbing until he gets to the pocket and climbs inside.

Kon’s not entirely sure on what to do with the tiny person that’s now curled up inside his jeans pocket. Obviously he hadn’t wanted Kon to go, or perhaps it was more of a separation thing and had panicked when he thought Kon was leaving?

Running a hand through his hair Kon opts to leave it for the time being, he’ll work it out later on. As he once again moves towards the door, he hopes that the tiny person is comfortable enough in his pocket until he returns to his bedroom.

----

Throughout the next couple of weeks Kon learns a lot about the tiny person.

He comes to notice that he has his own personality, he has his own quirks and things he likes and dislikes. While he doesn’t speak, the tiny person makes sure his opinion is heard. He likes to train and work out and he’s wickedly smart. He also loves to be held in Kon’s palm and to have his hair stroked.

Through some misunderstandings, Kon comes to realise he actually needs to feed this tiny person, he also needs to regularly clean him, exhaustion and not sleeping enough is certainly a thing, injuries too. The first time this tiny person hurt himself Kon almost had a heart attack in concern and panic.

It’s literally like he’s looking after another human being, only this human is super tiny and can easily fit into his pocket.

Despite all of this he still hasn’t worked out how this tiny person came to be. Anything he’s looked into has come to a dead end, he’s even explored scientific possibilities but it’s all come up empty handed. He’s still completely perplexed on this person’s existence.

When an unfortunate event occurred, Kon became aware that he can’t be too far away from this tiny person either, only because the distance causes them both physical pain. That alone makes Kon believe there’s more to this whole thing, he doesn’t know what it could be but there’s definitely something.

Other than that Kon really adores him. He’s gotten used to his presence now and how he happens to be there in Kon’s everyday life. It frightens him to no ends when a mission comes up or if Kon engages in a brutal battle because he could get hurt. Nonetheless the tiny person is always there for him, its like he’s got his own cheerleader.

A few weeks after the tiny person appears, Kon is meeting with Clark on the farm to catch up. Since the man had finally accepted him as a person and has even named him as part of the family, Clark’s been trying to put effort into getting to know him. Kon appreciates the effort and knows that their relationship is slowly healing.

When Clark arrives they settle onto one of the benches outside with some food Ma Kent had baked and were generally catching up. However Kon’s focus on the man’s words instantly die when movement in his peripheral catches his attention.  

Kon glances down at the ground and freezes when he spots a small woman walking around within the grass looking completely at ease observing everything around her.

“Kon?”

Blinking Kon averts his attention away from the woman and back to Clark who is now frowning at him. How long had Kon not been listening for? Instead of saying anything Clark looks in the direction Kon had been and confusion crosses his face.

“What is it Kon?”

Kon waves a hand in the direction of the small woman. “Do you not see that? There’s a tiny person in the grass Clark!”

The man continues to stare at Kon like he's crazy. It makes Kon feel insecure. He wasn’t imaging this right? He’s got his own little dude hanging around him for weeks and now there’s a small woman too.

“Yeah… that’s Mini-Louis.” Clark says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Mini-Louis? As in your wife Louis?” Kon asks sceptically.

Clark pulls a face, clearly not understanding his confusion. “Yes Kon. My wife. She is my soulmate, therefore I have a Mini-Louis around me.”

Kon has no idea on what to say to that because what?

Realisation crosses Clark’s expression. He pulls back a bit, seeming surprised. “You don’t know about it?”

“About what Clark? What the hell are you on about?” Kon snaps.

Clark takes a deep breath and leans forward on the table using his elbows to prop himself up. “I’m sorry it must have completely slipped my mind. We as Kryptonian's have something called soulmates. Every single Kryptonian has one. We know who our soulmates are because mini versions of them manifest to us and these mini versions are attached to our souls. Once we finally meet our soulmate in person the bond between us is solidified.”

Kon blinks trying to digest that information. Soulmates. Soulmates are an actual thing and they appear in the form of tiny versions of themselves. Kon’s tiny person is in fact his soulmate. But he doesn’t know who his soulmate is, he doesn’t recognise him!

“Has your soulmate manifested Kon?” Clark questions after a long drawn out silence.

Instead of answering Kon carefully reaches into his jacket’s pocket and scoops up his tiny person. He’s been sleeping this entire time and Kon feels bad for moving and waking him up but he gently does so and places him on the table in front of him.

His tiny person looks disorientated for a moment. He sits down on the table, yawns and rubs his eyes with his fists as he wakes up. Once he notices where he is he looks alerted and sends Kon a panicked look. Kon reaches out a strokes a finger down his face. “It’s okay buddy, you’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. I’m finally learning about you properly.”

Kon glances up to find Clark watching him with warm eyes and a soft smile. Kon raises an eyebrow. “What? If you say this is my soulmate it would certainly explain why I’m protective over him. But why didn’t you tell me sooner? I don’t recognise this person, doesn’t soulmates work after you meet the one or something?”

“With Kryptonian’s, your mini-soulmate manifests when the younger one of the pair comes of age. Your situation is slightly different, thinking about it I could guess that your soulmate appeared once you were named as you were already of age.”

Kon nods to the explanation. He’s slowly understanding it. He’s still feels conflicted about it, like he’s afraid of the idea of it but he's also open to it…

“The idea is that you don’t recognise them, or even know their name, until you actually meet them in person. You will meet, you are destined to, but whether you get along or not is another story. You’re soulmates, but that bond can be either platonic, romantic, or even in some rare cases it’s a hatred bond. By the looks of it, yours is either a platonic or a romantic bond.”

Kon sighs, he guesses that’s better than it being a hatred soulmate bond. He thinks he gets on rather well with his little dude.

“As frustrating as this will sound, the main thing I can say is that only time will tell. When you meet your soulmate you’ll recognise them and then how your relationship with him progresses will depend on the two of you.”

After that they change topic of conversation, leaning more into Kryptonian heritage and ways of life as well as different battle strategies Kon could be using with his team. Meanwhile as they talk, Kon’s mini-soulmate joins Mini-Louis in exploring the wildlife together.

-----

It turns out Kon has already met his soulmate. In fact it turns out he’s best friends with his soulmate. He’s known him for a couple years.

It turns out his soulmate is Robin and he’s only finding that out now.

Young Justice, or rather the newly formed Titans, are gathered together and spending the weekend at the Tower. They were about to start their movie night when Robin tells them he has an announcement to make.

In line with their new team development he wants to clear the air and start fresh, hoping they would all forgive him for certain things in the past. Robin takes his mask off and gives them his real name.

As Kon meets Robin’s – Tim’s – eyes his heart stops. Without the mask obstructing the top half of Robin’s face, Kon clearly sees the same face that his mini-soulmate has.

Robin is his soulmate. How has he never made that connection before? The resemblance is uncanny, he’s literally been carrying around a Mini-Robin for 6 months.

He’s been on a team with Robin for a couple of years now. When he first escaped Cadmus, him, Bart and Robin made a trio team and over time the others had joined them, therefore creating Young Justice. A couple years later here they are joining the Titans and Robin is finally sharing his identity with them.

To begin with he and Robin never got on, they were always at each other’s throats and never saw eye to eye but as time went on they both mellowed out and come to accept the others presence. Their friendship became stronger as they both matured over time. Kon had moved to Smallville and began to really learn what life is about, how there’s a life outside of superheroing, while Robin had moulded the legacy he carries into his own and has found the confidence to become his own person rather than trying to be someone else.

Either way, he immediately recognises Robin’s – or Tim’s – face and not because apparently he’s famous but actually because Tim’s face is the one his mini-soulmate wears. There’s no mistaking it.

His mini-soulmate is currently hidden from view inside his jacket pocket but Kon could easily feel the excitement rolling off the tiny person, he’s practically buzzing with energy. Knowing he’s going to have to try and restrain his mini from doing anything rash, Kon brushes his telekinesis over him in attempts to calm him down.

At Tim’s announcement there’s a loud explosion from the group which lasts for some time until everyone calms down enough to settle so they can watch the films they have lined up. No matter what they put on, Kon couldn’t focus on any of them. His mind is too occupied with the thoughts of Robin being his soulmate and what that could mean.

He begins questioning his entire friendship with the bat vigilante. Reflecting on everything from the moment they met to now.

What kind of feelings does he actually have for his friend? He cares for him, they trust one another (the whole ID thing was a different matter despite how many arguments there have been on that topic) and Kon can’t imagine his life without Tim in it. Even back when he loathed him Kon wouldn’t have imagine Robin not being there.

They balance one another out. Where Kon is reckless and is hot headed, Robin thinks things through and plans accordingly. Where Robin is uptight and too hard on himself, Kon is freewheeling and helps him to relax and unwind.

When he’s with Tim he wants his friend to be happy, he wants him to feel safe and protected. When things get too much Kon reminds Robin he’s there to talk to if he needs it. When Kon’s felt overwhelmed by his powers Tim is the one he turns to because he helps Kon to understand them without making it feel like he’s being judged. There’s been numerous of nights where they’ve sat together in silent company, both of them wanting to be alone but not at the same time.

Kon thinks about his smile and his laugh when he’s genuinely happy and not wearing that stupid asshole persona. He think about how when he gets invested in something he would passionately defend it. How there’s a shy and genuine guy behind that mask despite all the confidence Robin plasters on in front of them all. He recalls when Robin would walk into a room and how Kon’s mood would improve significantly for no reason.

Well shit… there’s a lot more feelings towards Robin than he ever realised. Is this still platonic though or is it the start of something romantic? Can Kon even imagine what it would be like to be romantically involved with Tim? To hold his hand, to cuddle, to kiss and then maybe more, to be seen in public with him, to lean on one another without fear…

Kon’s heart misses a beat when he realises that yes he can imagine all that. Now he knows Tim’s name and knows what he really looks like, Kon can see himself doing those things with Tim and even getting to know him better than what’s slipped through his persona over the years.

Tim is his soulmate, they’re bound to each other in some way. Why hadn’t he ever seen it before?

What is Tim’s opinion on all of this? Kon’s mind suddenly goes into overdrive when it clicks that since Tim is his soulmate, he has a Mini-Tim with him at all times, then that means Tim would have a mini-him.

“on? Conner! Kon!”

A sharp stinging sensation gets his attention and Kon blinks, his thoughts finally residing for now. Kon looks around to find everyone in the room staring at him with concern and how Robin is standing in front of him with worry etched all over his face.

“Are you okay? You completely spaced out on us.”

Kon swallows thickly and sends Tim, and everyone else, a tight smile. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry just got lost in my thoughts.”

Tim doesn’t look convinced and now that his mask is no longer on Kon could clearly see his expressions. Despite only seeing Tim’s face for the first time moments ago, Kon can already read his facial expressions because they happen to be the exact same ones Mini-Tim wears.

Kon reaches out and pushes Tim away from him to create room so he can stand up. “Seriously I’m fine. It’s just been a long week that’s all. I’m actually going to head to bed, I’ll see you all in the morning.”

Without looking at anyone Kon flees the room, trying to get out of there as fast as possible. He doesn’t stop moving until he gets to his assigned room where he promptly barges in and slams the door shut behind him. Unable to stand still Kon begins pacing the length of the room, his mind back to working on overdrive.

Its only when something starts moving against him that he breaks out of the cycle. Kon stops in the middle of his room and gently scoops out his mini-soulmate. From the centre of his palm, Mini-Robin looks up at him and scowls. Kon winces in both guilt and embarrassment.

He places his min-soulmate onto his dresser and instantly Mini-Tim turns his back on Kon and crosses his arms over his chest. Kon frowns feeling terrible, he didn’t mean to make him upset or angry. He can’t help that he's a little incompetent when it comes to these sort of things.

Kon goes back to his pacing, now talking to his mini as he does so. “I’m sorry okay. I didn’t realise, all of this time and you’ve actually been in front of me. How many missions have we been on, how many rooms have we been in together, how many hours have we spent in close proximity of one another? After all of that its only now I’m figuring it out!”

He glances over to find that Mini-Tim is still ignoring him. Kon huffs. “Well it’s not like it’s entirely my fault! Robin is as much as to blame as I am. At least I have an excuse, I didn’t know it was him because he had half of his face covered all the time. What about him? He’s probably had a mini-me this whole time and has never approached me about the topic, it’s not like I’ve gone incognito.”

When he stops talking the silence in the room stretches out. Even though its only Kon and his mini-soulmate Kon could easily feel the tension between them. He doesn’t like feeling like this, especially with his little counterpart.

Sighing heavily, Kon shuffles over to the dresser where Mini-Tim is still standing and leans in closely. “Please don’t be annoyed. It’s a shitty situation and my emotions are everywhere. The last thing I need is for you to be annoyed at me too…”

When Mini-Tim continues to ignore him Kon frowns and carefully reaches out to him with his TTK. He gently prods his mini-soulmate, trying to encourage him to loosen up and even look at him again.

Eventually his insistence must work because Mini-Tim turns around and stares up at him with wide-eyes and a pout on his face. Kon pulls back his power and reaches out to brush a finger along his tiny cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Kon whispers softly, “I’ll sort things out, I promise but it may take some time.” The wide-eyes and pout soon turns into a glare without heat and a pointed look. Kon understands his message though. “I will talk to him, soon okay. Just not yet, I need to get my thoughts in order first.”

A knock on his bedroom door breaks his attention away from his mini-soulmate. Kon sighs and is reluctant to open the door, fearing what’s on the other side of it. When a second knock happens, Kon forces himself to walk over to the door and pull it open.

As feared, Tim stands there in the corridor looking worried and lost in thought. He notices that Kon has opened the door and snaps back to attention. “Uh hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can we talk?” Tim asks sounding unsure.

Kon sends him a tight smile. “Yeah.”

Tim enters his bedroom and Kon closes the door behind him. There's a pause between them before Tim turns around to face him wearing contemplative expression. “Your behaviour isn’t about my name and face is it?”

It sounds like he already knows the answer to that but Kon humours him by answering anyway. “No. No it isn’t, well, not the main part of it at least.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. How was he supposed to talk to Robin that he's his soulmate? How was he going to explain that for the last 6 months he’s been carrying around a tiny version of him but didn’t know because he never made the connection until today?

In the end he shakes his head, he’s probably way over thinking this too much. Maybe he shouldn’t use words, perhaps using actions is the way to go?

Kon moves around the room and goes back over to the dresser, when he leans in close he finds Mini-Tim hiding away behind a deodorant spray. He lifts his hand with his palm facing upwards and waits to see if his mini takes the invitation. Mini-Tim stares at him suspiciously for a moment before coming out of his hiding spot and climbing onto his hand.

Kon carefully turns around and shows Tim his mini for the first time. Surprisingly yet unsurprisingly, Tim doesn’t look shocked. His eyes widen but that’s the only reaction Kon gets. Tim wordlessly reaches down into his jacket pocket and brings something out of it, Kon could only gasp when he sees a mini version of himself on Tim’s palm.

Before he or Tim could react their mini-soulmates both make an excited sound. Mini-Kon jumps up from Tim’s palm and flies straight for Mini-Tim. In return Mini-Tim jumps up with his hands stretched out and grasps onto Mini-Kon when they collide together. Mini-Kon carries them around for a moment before they land on the bed and separate. They use their little arms and legs to wildly gesture to one another about something lost to both Kon and Tim. It’s rather adorable to watch.

“I think that answers a few questions does it not?” Tim says amusedly watching the minis with a smile.

Kon huffs. “Some of them yeah. Look dude there’s a lot to explain about this, I get you must be super confused about how a tiny version of myself just suddenly appeared one day and I understand that -”

“I’m going to stop you there Kon.” Tim says firmly raising a hand up in a stopping motion, he’s now looking at him. “I know a lot more than what you think I do. I know what this is and what it could mean. If anything I’m the one that should explain some things to you, like why didn’t I tell you sooner for example.”

Feeling rather overwhelmed Kon shakes his head and moves to sit down in his desk chair.

Tim takes it as an opportunity to keep talking. “We’ve always had a strange relationship Kon. From the moment we met until now it’s been odd, but quite frankly there’s not a thing I would change. I know those minis represent that we’re soulmates. I have to admit I was rather confused when you appeared tiny in my bathroom 6 months ago, to begin with I thought you had shrunk or something but there was something telling me there was more to it than that.

I got my answer about a month later when I ran into Louis, she had been at the Manor talking to Bruce when I saw she had a tiny Clark riding on her shoulder. After a conversation she explained that her and Clark were soulmates, it’s all to do with because he’s a Kryptonian. Of course then it made more sense.

The reason why I never approached you about it is because I didn’t know what to do. I knew it was you, it’s kind of hard not to tell y’know,” Tim sends him a knowing smirk at that comment, “but since you never said anything about it I figured you didn’t know it was me. It’s only then that it clicked that I still hadn’t revealed my face or even shared my name with you.

It wasn’t my choice not to tell you, you know that, it had been Batman’s orders. For months I debated on what to do, even going as far as arguing with Batman to share my ID at least with you. In the end Batman gave in but only after I explained why I was so insistent about it. And well, here we are.”

Tim trails off into silence and he’s looking expectantly at Kon, waiting for him to respond to his side of the story. Kon could only blink at him and repeat his story in his mind. The minis are currently sat together side by side on the edge of the bed’s footboard, they were holding hands and swinging their legs together as they share a smile.

As much as Kon would like to be frustrated at Tim for what he did, he knows he really couldn’t be. Its not his fault that Batman put him in an awkward position. Kon rationalises in his mind that’s its all done and over with now, he can’t change it but from here they can at least go forward.

He glances up at Tim. “So what do we do from here? How would you like to go forward? Also I’m sorry that I put you in this position. It was as much as a shock to me as it probably was to you.”

Tim glares at him. “Don’t apologise Kon. It’s not like you had a choice in the matter and you know what, I’m glad its you.”

That gets Kon’s attention. He stares at his best friend wondering if he heard right. “What?”

The sigh Tim lets out sounds almost resigned. “Why would I be bothered by it? You’re my best friend Kon, of course I don’t mind being soulmates with you. I know we’ve had one heck of a bumpy road in the past but we’re here now aren’t we.”

Kon grins, unable to deny what Tim had just said. He looks back up, taking in how Tim’s eyes are focused on him, how they seem to shine when the light hits them, he takes in Tim’s relaxed posture and how at ease he appears to be.

A sudden urge washes over Kon and all he wants to do is crush Tim in a hug and kiss him. He has no idea when he started thinking about Tim in that way but he finds that he doesn’t actually mind. It’s just the case of whether Tim returns them or not.

Kon stands up and steps towards Tim, standing so close to him that he could feel the others heat. “So how do you want to go forward with this? When Clark told me about soulmates, he said there are platonic, romantic and hating bonds. Is there a certain type you want to be?”

Kon wants to smack himself in the face for how bad that sounds. What the fuck is he on about. Thankfully Tim seems more amused than anything else. A glance to the side shows both minis exaggerating an eye roll each, Kon opts to ignore them.

Tim steps closer, finally pushing their chests together, he has to tilt his head up while Kon looks down to make eye contact with one another. “I don’t know… I mean to be honest if I had to say one surely it would be the hatred bond? I can’t stand you, you know? You get on my nerves too much.”

Kon snorts and shakes his head. “Maybe once upon a time. Anyway you’re just as bad, you and that neurotic brain of yours.”

They both grin at that, shaking their heads at the ridiculous turn in the conversation. Opposite him Tim opens his mouth again but this time Kon decides to cut to the chase. He ducks his head and presses his lips against Tim’s. There’s a pause on Tim’s side but after a second he’s responding to Kon and pushing back against his lips.

Some sort of spark passes between them and suddenly it’s like something inside of him has clicked into place and now he feels complete.

He presses against Tim even more and wraps his arms around him, keeping them pressed closely together. Tim goes with the movement, reaching up to wrap his arms around Kon’s neck and even buries a hand in his hair.

When they part the two of them are sharing wide smiles. Kon huffs out a laugh and rests his forehead against Tim’s.

The only thing that pulls Kon away from Tim is a light slapping against his neck. He pulls back and looks to the side to find Mini-Tim now standing on his shoulder trying to get his attention. Opposite him, Mini-Kon is floating next to Tim’s cheek also getting his attention.

Tim and Kon take a step away from each other to look at their minis. Mini-Tim is grinning wildly and Kon could just feel the excitement and warmth radiating off from him. Kon smiles back softly and reaches up to stroke a finger along Mini-Tim’s cheek, even poking his stomach for fun. It’s a pleasant contrast compared to what he was like a little while ago.

Kon turns back to Tim. “So, um, now that a few things are out the way, can I ask you out on a date? Lets give this a try?”

Tim gently nudges Mini-Kon away to stop him from prodding his cheek, he looks at Kon and nods. “Just text me the time and place and we’ll be there.”

It takes a moment but Kon quickly catches on that he means him and Mini-Kon. Of course, duh, if they’re going to be dating then by extension so are the mini versions of themselves. It probably should be weird but Kon finds that he doesn’t mind, in fact its cute and the fact that Tim doesn’t seem to mind either makes it better. He’s looking forward to the near future and what it could bring for him and Tim and their mini-soulmates.

#timkon #Tim Drake #Kon-El #clark kent #soulmates au #mini soulmates #humour #that oh moment #realisation of feelings #getting together #canon divergence #fluff #idea originally from shadowhunters fandom #i think #i absolutely love this soulmates au concept #fanfiction #the minis are adorable

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Gin and Paleta

Pairing: Javier Pena x Reader

Summary: When a storm knocks out the power, you ask Javier to spend the night with you to ease your fear of the dark. A few drinks later, you admit more than you ever meant to. 

Warnings: Drunk and emotional reader, a wee bit of angst at one part, anxiety because of the dark, Javier teasing you, mentions of prostitution

Word Count: 5400

A/N: This is my first time writing for Javier and I’m a little nervous about it. Hopefully it’s alright!

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The wind outside howled with an intensity that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You clutched your hot tea to your chest, allowing it to warm you in the nice cool Bogota night as you watched the rain fall hard and heavy outside your window. Every now and again there was a flash of lightning that crackled across the sky that was followed by a loud rumble. The storm was right over you and the lightning had gotten closer and closer to the apartments the embassy had put you up in when you moved to Columbia. 

It really was quite beautiful, this storm that raged across the city. It had been hot and muggy for days leading up to the storm but now the angry gray clouds that blocked out the stars and the pounding rain brought a blanket of coolness to offer refuge from the constant Columbian summer heat. Your favorite scented candle burned on the table, the smell mixing perfectly with the scent of wet earth, asphalt, and trees overtaking your apartment through the small crack in the window you’d left for exactly that purpose. The TV played mindlessly in the background to create further ambience.

Suddenly, there was a loud flash just outside your apartments that lit up the entire street, sparks flying everywhere out your window. You yelped in shock as the power surged and then cut out completely, leaving you in total darkness aside from the flame of your candle. At the same time, there was a deafening rumble and the whole apartment shook with thunder. 

Your heart raced and you panted as you walked towards the window to see that the power was across the next few blocks. There was a downed wire in the next street down that still sparked occasionally in the rain. Car alarms went off in the street. Lightning must have struck the wires. 

Then the darkness crept in. When you turned to face your apartment, the utter darkness and silence of every corner began to feel suffocating. You reached over to the table and held the candle up as your breathing struggled to stay level. On shaky legs, you made your way over to a set of drawers that held various boxes of matches and a few old lighters before searching the house for every candle and flashlight you could find. After about ten minutes, you had set up candles all across the main room of your apartment but it still wasn’t much light. Small halos of warm yellow light illuminated only a few feet in diameter around each small flame. 

For the final, and perhaps most paranoid move of all, you reached to grab your gun but stopped, fingers flexing and clenching into your palm as you tried to calm yourself down. “It’s just the dark,” you told yourself, breathing deeply, “Just the same things that are here in the day time. Stop being ridiculous.”

It was irrational to have your gun on you. What was gonna happen? The boogeyman was going to jump out of your closet and eat you? Maybe Escobar’s men would come and pick you, Steve, and Javier off now that it was dark. They did know where you all lived and they had already shown they had no problem flexing that fact when they killed Steve’s cat. That also was irrational and you knew it. They had better things to do and plot a whole assassination on three Americans during a power outage when God knows they had many other more menacing enemies. 

And even so, every little creak from the storm that had previously been endearing now became footsteps of intruders or monsters. Here you were, someone literally trained to take down drug lords, who had been in their fair share of gun fights and seen first hand the horrors that men can do to one another, cowered in the couch trying to stave off a full blown panic attack as you sat alone in the dark.

Maybe you could hang out with Steve and Connie for the night, at least until the power returned, you considered. No… they had Olivia now and you were sure they had their hands full without worrying about a whole grown ass woman who was just scared of the dark. You weren’t close with anyone else in the building except for Javier but that idea made you cringe. He would just make fun of you and you knew it. You already knew how dumb it sounded to be an adult who was scared of the dark. You really needed to just grow up and get over it. That was exactly what you’d resolved to do. 

Twenty minutes passed before you gave in. Twenty minutes full of startled gasps when the wind blew some leaves off the tree and into your window, the car alarms were silenced, or the wood floors creaked beneath your feet. Against your initial judgement, you pressed yourself off the couch, scooped up the candle that you’d had placed on the table and made your way downstairs to Javier’s apartment. 

You rubbed your arm nervously while you waited for him to answer the knocks, already foretelling all the shit he was about to give you. He opened the door and you noticed the single flashlight in his hand that seemed to be the only light in his entire abode. “Y/N, you alright?” He asked, noticing right away the way you kept peeking over your shoulder with an anxiety that radiated off of you. 

You nodded, “Uh, yeah. Your power’s out too?” The question was stupid and obvious and you both knew that. No shit the power was out. There wasn’t a single light on in the entire building. 

“Yeah.” He answered simply but there was little intonation in his voice that was certainly mocking you in his typical lowkey asshole way. He leaned against the doorway coolly and if you hadn’t been freaking out so badly, you would have stopped to admire. Maybe it was best that everything but his general outline was concealed in darkness. You’d been pushing down a crush on your friend and partner for months now, knowing it was unprofessional and knowing that he would probably never think of you the same way even if it wasn’t unprofessional. Coming to him like this made you feel like a damsel in distress and you weren’t sure if you liked that analogy, especially considering that you were convinced nothing would ever come of it. 

You rocked back and forth on your heels, “I was wondering if, um, maybe you’d be willing to hang out with me until the power comes back on?” 

A small smirk appeared on his face with a quirked eyebrow, “Are you scared of the dark, L/N?” He asked, using your last name as if to exaggerate the humor in the fact that a DEA agent who’s been shot at before is scared of something as little as the dark, “How old are you? Eight?” 

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning red but playing it off with a chuckle. “Shut up,” you whined, “Look, I know it sounds stupid but I can offer beer or gin and a few paleta that I need to eat before they melt now.” 

Javier looked you up and down in the low glow of the candle that was held between your hands, almost as if you were using it to keep your hands warm. He couldn’t help the little endearing smile that crept on his lips. In all honesty, he didn’t care much that you were afraid of the dark. He just loved to see the way you got flustered when he made fun of you. His jokes were never meant maliciously, especially when directed towards you, and he was glad you could take the jabs and even throw them back. It was one of the things that made him crazy about you. 

After a moment, he nodded, “Yeah, I can come hang out for a few. Just let me grab my keys.” He disappeared back into his apartment, flashlight illuminating his couch and table as he grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. Soon, he was following you down the hall and up the stairs to your apartment.

You hadn’t even locked the door in your hurried state to get down to Javier but you knew it wasn’t going to be a long trip. He noticed the various candles burning around your apartment, lowly illuminating the small space. 

“Beer or gin? I got water too if you want that though.” You offered, making your way to the kitchen to hold up your end of the bargain. 

“Uh, gin, please.” He walked in and made himself at home like he practically lived there. He had come over often to go over files sometimes over drinks and food late into the night. He was comfortable in your space and you were in his, with the exception of that hyperawareness of your every move when you’re around the person you like. There was a slightly electric feeling in the air for both of you but neither of you knew that the other felt it too. 

You brought two glasses of gin, probably a little fuller than they should have been, in and handed one to Javier and one for yourself. The pair of you sat on your tan sofa and you quickly inspected the packaged popsicles in your hand, “I have cajeta and chamoy.” 

“Don’t really care.” He shrugged, “sipping” his gin. You looked between the two and picked your favorite, giving him the other one. 

Two hours later, the pair of you were two paleta and three-quarters of a bottle of gin down (most of which you had drunk) and things had gotten personal. Topics had bounced from work stuff, to you teasing him about his well-known rendezvous with his informants, to childhood pets, and more. A silence had settled over the pair of you. Neither of you knew how late it was anymore, just that it was silent out save for the rain and the occasional gunshot. It had become evident early on that Javier held his alcohol better than you did but even he was slipping after this many glasses of hard liquor. 

“Do you ever get tired of being alone?” You asked out of the blue, staring up at the ceiling. 

Javier looked over at you, the way you tapped your nail against the side of the glass with too much focus. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to avoid his gaze after the question or if you really were just that interested in the sound it made in your drunken state. Your partner just shrugged though and deflected the question, “Get a dog or something.” 

Your face twisted in an over exaggerated look of thought. “I thought about it but it makes me sad to-,” you hiccuped, “to think about a puppy being stuck inside all day while we’re out chasing Escobar. No yard or anything for them to run around in.” 

Javier nodded in understanding, “Guess you’re right. Wouldn’t be a good life at all.” 

“See, though, Javi,” You pointed sloppily at him with a lifted finger from your fifth - no sixth - glass of gin, “You and I both know that’s not what I’m asking. But who am I kidding? You’ve always got all those little informants of yours hanging around. You’re probably not too lonely.” 

Your partner sighed, used to Steve giving him crap about it but you didn’t usually say much about it. “Yeah, well we all have ways of dealing with the loneliness.” Seeing the prostitutes in town wasn’t his proudest repeat offense and, if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t just see them for the information they had on Escobar. Even for people who had commitment issues, like himself, being alone got really damn hard sometimes. 

“It’s so unfair that they don’t have male prostitutes like they have women. What about all the lonely and frustrated women of Bogota?” You complained, taking a sip to punctuate your sentence. 

Javier couldn’t help but laugh a little, “You’re telling me you’d really go see a prostitute if there were men out there that did it?” Yeah, right, he thought. 

You shook your head and sighed in defeat, “No… I don’t think I would. I think I actually want someone to love, y’know?” You laughed at your own clicheness, “What about you, Javi? I know you have all your lady friends but have you ever loved someone?” 

If perhaps you’d been sober, maybe you would have noticed the way he sucked a guilty breath in and backstepped, maybe even might have apologized for prying into his personal life. In your drunk state, though, you had no qualms with your personal questions. 

“I, uh, I did. Once.” 

“Yeah? What happened?” 

He scratched his nose and hesitated. Another one of his less proud moments that he didn’t like to share. The only person he’d told that wasn’t family or a friend from back in Texas was Steve. Nevertheless, he swallowed hard and continued, the drinks even making him loose at this point, “We were supposed to get married but…”

“But?” You pressed, the intoxication making you obnoxiously impatient. 

He gave you a vaguely testing look before continuing, “But I never made it to the wedding.” 

You gasped, leaning forward and setting your drink on the table, “You left her at the altar?!” 

Javier flinched back at your sudden lurch towards him and looked at you with a slightly annoyed expression, “I know it was a shitty thing to do!” While he didn’t appreciate the judgement because he already felt shitty enough about the whole incident, he knew it was more the gin than you to blame for your outburst. He leaned forward and pulled your half-full glass of gin back towards him, not to drink for himself, just to get out of your grasp. “What about you? You ever been in love?” 

You bit your lip, “I don’t know. I’ve never really been in love before but there’s this one guy that I know that I think I could be pretty close to it.” 

Javier’s chest tightened at the thought of you loving another man. He knew he had no right to your heart but that didn’t stop the pang of jealousy at the thought. Part of him wanted to pry further, just so he could know you were safe (or maybe to fuel some twisted personal hatred for the man he didn’t know). In typical angsty Javier fashion, though, he opted for the aloof, detached, and slightly annoyed response, “Then why are you complaining about being so lonely? Sounds like you have someone.” 

You pulled your knees into your chest and threw the blanket that was draped over the couch over your now balled up form. You shrugged, glancing up at Javier with a look he might have noticed was longing if he hadn’t been looking anywhere but at you. “I don’t think he likes me the way I like him. I think maybe that’s why it feels so lonely. Knowing you could have someone but still being alone.” 

“If you could have him then get him.” Javier Pena, always the blunt one, especially when his own feelings were in the mix. 

You shook your head, “It’s not that simple.” 

Suddenly, Javier got a little nervous at your tone, “He better not be one of Escobar’s fucking men.” The thought of you loving someone else made him jealous and angry but the thought of you loving a sicario made him lividly angry. There was no way you could possibly love a monster like that but it didn’t stop the thought from crossing his mind. 

Your mouth dropped in offense, “Fuck, Javi, is that how low you think of me?” Your moods had been swinging all night thanks to the gin but you were pretty sure you still would have found the very suggestion just as offensive if you’d been sober. 

“What- wait - no. That’s not what I think of you, I ju-” 

“Well, clearly it is or you wouldn’t have suggested it.” You stood up off the couch, stepping away angrily but tripping over the low coffee table in the dark. Your slowed reflexes weren’t enough to catch you and crashed to the floor, “Shit…” You groaned, rolling over and trying to push yourself up to a sitting position. Your hair hung messily over your face when you looked down at where your hand met the floor. 

Javier jumped up and clumsily made his way to your side, “Shit, Y/N, you alright?” He knelt down and placed a hand on your arm, offering his other one to help you stand. Sparks flew where his skin met yours but you convinced yourself that you were just feeling because of the alcohol. 

You waved him off drunkenly and swiped your hair clumsily out of your face. Instead of sitting up, you leaned back and looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes for who the hell knows why. Were you angry or offended or desperate or just a drunk mess? You couldn’t tell anymore but you weren’t used to losing your emotions like this and Javier wasn’t used to seeing it either. He halted, uncomfortable at the way your eyes shone in the candlelight with your tears. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even suggested that you’d be in love with a sicario. I really don’t think you’d do anything like that.” Javier apologized, a rare occurrence for the man but, gosh, would he say anything if it meant that your tears would dry. Drunk or not, he couldn’t stand knowing that made you cry. 

You sniffled, wiping a crocodile tear from your cheek, “Why the hell do we even sit here and make ourselves sad, Javi? Y’know? I mean I sit here every night and pine over a guy who I’ve convinced myself won’t love me. Isn’t that stupid? I convinced myself! How the hell would I even know? So instead of womaning up and actually finding out the truth, I just resign to the thought that there’s no way he could love me. Isn’t that pathetic? I should just learn to be like you. Confident. Women don’t say no to you because… well how could they?” 

Javier shook his head and looked down, “No,” He admitted quietly, “It’s not pathetic. It’s different when you’re talking about love versus lust. I pay for twenty minutes with a poor girl who has to do it to survive. If anything, that’s what’s pathetic. Honestly, I’m scared shitless when it comes to love.” 

He thought about your words and how much sense they actually made. The reason he hadn’t told you about his feelings for you were partly because he thought you’d never feel the same way. He was convinced that his reputation as a womanizer asshole, that he had rightly earned prior to you moving to Bogota, had turned you off entirely. Besides, wouldn’t he just mess it up? He thought he loved Lorraine but look how that turned out. The logical reason he told himself was the relationships amongst partners would be frowned upon but he knew that was a lie. Since when did Javier Pena follow the rules? The only thing holding him back really truly was himself. So why did it feel so impossible to come clean? 

Javier shook the thought from his head. You were drunk and rambling. Even if he were to man up and confess his love for you, this was not the time to do it. He’d be surprised if you remembered anything in the morning. Besides, you were on about some man you loved and he could only imagine who it was. He’d seen your gaze linger a little longer on Carillo than was usual for a colleague. Perhaps that was who it was, the mystery man that you couldn’t have. He was married, after all. It would be a logical road block. 

Part of Javier wanted to probe your brain and know the truth. He couldn’t tell if it was something that would make himself feel better or worse. It would put him out of his misery. Maybe if he heard it straight from your mouth that you didn’t love him, he could finally get over you. It would take a while, certainly many drunken nights and a few visits to Freckles, but he could do it. But if he did know, he also knew himself well enough to know he’d harbor some silent resentment for whoever the man was for taking the girl he loved. 

He shook his head at his thoughts when he saw the way you swayed a little, as if rocking on a boat despite being on solid ground, your eyes drifting shut while you struggled to stay sitting upright. You weren’t in your right state of mind and to ask you such a personal question would be a total breach of trust and respect. He’d be furious if he found out anybody else had done the same to you. 

“C’mon, let’s get you in bed.” Javier swallowed hard before shifting to help pull you up by your arm. 

Your body flopped loosely to your feet and you whined, “Noooo! We were just talking! Besides, you’re just gonna leave me in the dark and go back home.” You pouted, head lulling against his as the full blown weight of the alcohol hit you. Any composure you’d managed to maintain, which admittedly was very little, melted away into Javier’s chest as he hoisted you up and carried you bridal style to your bedroom. 

He glanced down at your made up bed and laid down your body as gently as he could, though you did roll on your own accord more clumsily than he had hoped. Javier flinched when your hands shot up to grab his shoulders, “Javi! Don’t leave me! It’s dark and scary still.” 

He sighed, his hands settling on his hips once he managed to pry your hands off his shoulders, “Just let me grab you some water and you’ll be fine.” 

“What if I wake up in the middle of the night and it’s still completely dark!” 

“I have a feeling you won’t be waking up for a while, hermosa.” He chuckled at the way your face was already half smashed into the pillow, your hair was laying over your cheek, and your eyes were closed shut, surely already halfway asleep. 

You reached up blindly for whatever you could grab, your fingers sliding down his forearm before they managed to hook onto a few of his fingers, “Please, Javi. I gave you popsicles and alcohol! The least you could do is stay the night and keep me company.” 

  Javier reached down and pulled the blanket that was folded at the end of your bed over your body. “I’ll be right back.” With that he left your room, feeling his way to the kitchen to get you a glass of ice water before returning to find you curled up in the blanket with your eyes closed. A small smile grew on his face, astounded by how you could still be so beautiful even when you looked like such a mess. A few strands of hair had fallen over your face and Javier reached down to gently brush them away from your mouth and behind your ear. 

You shifted a little, “You can sleep here.” Your hand stretched out to feel the other half of your queen sized bed. 

Finally, Javier decided to give in. “No, I’ll just make up a bed on the couch.” 

“There’s plenty o’ bed to share!” You giggled, thinking what you said was way funnier than it really was. 

Javier shook his head, “You're drunk, Y/N. I don’t want you waking up in the morning to see me in your bed and you go getting the wrong idea.” 

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to wake up to see you in my bed.” You snuggled further into the pillow, your words barely above a murmur. 

“What?” Javier’s whole body seized up and he couldn’t look anywhere but you. He shook the thought away. There was no way you meant that. It was the gin and nothing more. He couldn’t get his hopes up, “Nevermind. You just close your eyes. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” 

You shook your head, “This is why I’m in love with you, Javi. Always the perfect gentleman, even when you’re an asshole sometimes.” 

Javier’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t deny your words this time. This was different. There was a difference between this is why I love you and this is why I’m in love with you. “In love? With me?” He told himself he wouldn’t pry earlier but the question came out before he could stop it. 

“Oh yeah... I’ve had a big ol’ crush on you for a long time. I don’t know what the hell love is but I think I might have it for you.” The wall that kept back your deepest thoughts came crashing down and your sentiments came flooding out like a semi-coherent tidal wave of admittal. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything because I know you don’t like me like that. You got all these beautiful women at your beck and call and I’m just boring old me who’s scared of the dark, spends more time working than living, and couldn’t dream of looking as beautiful as those ladies do.” 

Javier struggled to figure out what to say that wouldn’t be crossing the line, “There’s nothing boring about you, hermosa, and you are so much more beautiful than any other woman out there.” 

“But you don’t love me.” You insisted, cutting him off. 

He chewed the inside of his cheek. This had to be the worst time to be talking about this. If he said he did now, you probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Maybe you’d even write off your feelings as just drunken blubbering and he’d have to play along as if nothing had been meant. If he didn’t say it now, would it lock it in your mind that he couldn’t love you? “That’s not true.” He mumbled the words quietly but sincerely. He looked down at your form that was halfway asleep by now and pat your shoulder comfortingly, “Go to sleep. We can finish talking about this when you’re sober.” 

By the time the words left his mouth, you were already snoring. With a heavy breath, he looked away from you and walked back into the living room. He kicked his shoes off by the table and laid down on the couch, getting comfortable beneath the blanket that you’d left there earlier. Your conversations ran through his head about a mile and minute and he couldn’t slow them down. You actually loved him- nay, were in love with him. His feelings weren’t one sided. He tossed and turned for a while, battling with himself on how to address this (or even if he wanted to). He wasn’t so drunk that he had no control over what he said but he was just drunk enough to fuel a confidence that made him devise a plan to admit his feelings for you in the morning, even if sober him would most likely back out. 

**

When morning rolled around, neither of you were in the mood for admitting feelings. It took several cups of stove brewed coffee before either you were even able to form any more than a groan. The sunlight killed your eyes, even through the grey clouds. Your head pounded and you felt nauseous for the first half of the day. Javier was just slow and a little grumpier than usual. The two of you ate some tortillas that you’d thrown on the stovetop for breakfast in relative silence. 

The power was still out, the constant drizzle outside making it too dangerous for the power lines to be worked on. Thankfully, the sun cast enough light for you to not be freaking out anymore. Around eleven in the morning, you were finally feeling a little better and you looked up at Javier, who still had yet to leave your apartment. “Thanks for staying last night. Sorry for getting wasted.” You laughed a little at your expense. 

He sipped his coffee and rubbed his eyes, “Of course. You’re a mess when you drink, you know that?” 

You buried your face in your hands, feeling your matted hair. Gosh, you needed a shower. “Yeah, I’ve been told that before. That’s why I don’t get that drunk very often.” You sipped your own coffee, reveling in the scent that a few hours ago made you feel sick to your stomach but now smelled like the best thing on this planet. “You can take a shower if you’d like.” 

Javier gestured towards the front door, “I’ll just take one when I get back to my place.” 

“Oh right, you live here,” You groaned and chuckled at your stupidity, “Sorry, my brain is still moving kinda slow.” 

He smiled down at his coffee, fingers playing with the handle of the orange mug. “I, uh, I wanted to ask you about something, actually.” He began, his confidence from the prior night failing him. Javier could be suave as hell when he was trying to pick someone up at a bar but with you, all he could get was radio static in his brain. 

Your face twisted nervously, “Oh gosh, did I say something totally stupid last night?” You were already mentally facepalming. There were about a million things that ran through your mind daily, even sober, that you would be humiliated if drunk you had let slip. Things that ranged from a stupid dream you’d had about strapping bombs to pigeons and flying them into Escobar’s fincas to your unrequited harbored love for Javier ran through your head and you desperately hoped you had dumbly mentioned the former of the two topics. You could handle being teased about pigeon bombs. You didn’t want to lose Javier forever because you had your crush on him slip. 

One of Javier’s hands moved to his thigh and ran up and down the rough fabric of his jeans. “No, it wasn’t stupid at all, actually.” His pause made you nervous, expecting only the worst. “You said that you were in love with me.” 

Oh gosh. This was it. The moment you feared most. 

“I did?” You asked like a deer caught in headlights. You could feel your face visibly pale as you stared at Javier with wide eyes. His eyes flicked from yours down to his coffee and you panicked, “I’m sorry. I didn’t-” 

“I love you too.” He interrupted quickly and bluntly, knowing that if he waited any longer either you’d say it wasn’t true or he’d back out and either way it resulted in him never getting the words out. This was his shot at happiness and he was going to take it. 

Your mouth moved with failed words before finally sputtering out, “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I love you, Y/N. And I’m sorry if you didn’t mean it and I just ruined everything but you said last night that we sit around and make ourselves miserable by convincing ourselves that it could never happen and I just- I just figured I’d try to find a way out of the misery.” Javier wasn’t one for grand gestures or sappy heartfelt speeches but the confidence he’d had last night had returned to him for only a second to give you the closest he’d ever gotten to either. 

His words seemed to snap you right out of your foggy hangover haze and you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off him and the way his brown eyes seemed to bore into yours with a depth that made you almost scared to look away. “I-I love you too, Javi.” 

His eyes lightened up and his mustaches quirked upwards with his lips in a cautious smile, “Really?” 

You nodded, your voice breathy when you whispered out, “Yeah. I just- I never thought you could love me.” 

“Hermosa, I don’t know how anyone couldn’t.” 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena imagines #javier pena fics #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #narcos #narcos imagines #narcos fics #narcos drabbles #narcos headcanons #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Focus on the Good (Caius Volturi x Reader)

Trigger warning: Anxiety and Panic Attacks. 

Im going to add a little disclaimer too actually. I’ve written this in a very specific way. I am very vague about panic attacks and don’t write them in the readers POV because then i’d have to go into detail. This might have trigged readers with anxiety as well as triggered myself as I struggle with anxiety on a daily basis. However, i decided to focus on the positive of this kind of thing and hope that if anyone needs to hear that Anxiety doesn’t make you as a person and that it’s okay to have bad days- this is it. This is the message. As someone who spent their teens with this struggle and now into adulthood, i’ve put a message i try to remind myself of and what i hope could help others. That being said, please don’t send hate if there is any inaccuracies or flaws as I don’t want to get deep into Anxiety <3

"Master?" Caius turned to see Chelsea, her hands clasped in front of her and her face void of emotion. "I think something is wrong." Caius was standing almost immediately and hunting you down. That sentence was used to tell Caius that you needed him. You were self-conscious about your condition and so out of respect that sentence had been one used frequently after the first time.  Corin wasn't allowed to use her gift on you.  Caius was adamant that when the time came, he'd be the one to help you through. 

When he opened the door to your shared room, your back was turned to him. You had hunched into yourself and rigid. He moved to face you. "I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here." He lovingly stroked your face with his thumbs. Caius moved your crossed arms around his body. "There you go." He didn't have to say the words, your arms immediately squeezing.  He kissed your forehead before wrapping his own arms around you, lightly. He angled your head so that your airway was clear.  "Good." He said quietly. 

There had been one time when Caius wasn't available and something like this happened. He hadn't thought much about it at first, not understand the severity of these moments- at least in your eyes. Corin was permitted to use her gift, not too much to make you blindly content, but more so to calm you, take the edge off the anxiety. However Corin's gift wasn't quite right for the task and only seemed to confuse you more which led to more anxiety. When Caius arrived, long after you had settled. He knew as soon as he walked in the door that things had to change. You looked exhausted, afraid and disappointed. He had let you down because the one time you needed him, he wasn't there. After that day, if you ever had something like that again, he would drop everything and be there immediately with no exceptions. 

"What do I always tell you, cara mia?" Caius said, holding you tightly to him. "It's always darkest before the dawn." You managed out. "Good." He praised. "This will pass, understand?" You shifted slightly. "I know. You're uncomfortable. You can't find any relief in anything right now but believe me when I tell you, it's going to pass. We're going to do this together. Now what I need you to do is breathe in and out. Slowly, with me.In...out.” Caius repeated himself over and over again.  “You’re doing very well, keep going. We’ll stay like this as long as you need.” 

Minutes passed as you held him tightly. Caius stroked the back of your neck as he heard your heart beat begin to slow. “That’s it. I can hear it, cara mia.” He spoke quietly. “It’s beginning to fade, you’ll begin to feel it soon.” Caius kissed the top of your head. “You’re stronger than that sickening feeling, (Y/N). You prove it every single day. So just breathe, my love. It can’t hurt you.” Caius smiled slightly, hearing you heart rate as it continued to slow. He was proud, so very proud of you.  “Dawn is coming, rapidly. You’re pulling yourself out of the dark and you might not even know it yet. You’re wonderful, little human.” Caius tightened his hold on you, winding both arms around you again. “It’s irrational fears, mostly. You know that, but that isn’t weakness little one. It’s a sign of intelligence, a sign of life. You see the world around you and want to understand it. You won’t get all the answers but when this happens, the darkest moment...you see through to the end. There is a resilience to that and that is what makes you so wonderful, little human. Which is why you have to remember that, alright? You’re stronger than people think, that even you think. You experience this and carry on, which is good. It’s so good, little human.” Caius smiled against your head. “You go far beyond this feeling, there is so much more to you and it’s beautiful. This does not define you and it’s important that no matter how many times this feeling stands in your way. You remember that you will always overcome that feeling. It might be perceived as intimidating but it’s weak. It’s nothing against you. So don’t hold back on that feeling, my love. Beat it down, show how strong you are and all you have to do is breathe.” 

Caius pressed a couple of kisses to the top of your head. You felt tears run down your face and Caius spoke again.  “I love you so much, my dear. You make me want to make better choices, you remind me that i’m not the soulless monster i appear to be. Without your guidance, perhaps i was headed towards a lonely path of destruction but with you...you remind me of the good in this world, the beauty in it. I will always cherish you, cara mia. You make me remember there is more to life than being a warrior and a leader. I want you to remember me as i am now. Just as i don’t remember these moments you have. I think of you and remember all of the beautiful moments we’ve shared together- the memories no one could ever replace. That’s what’s important, That’s what makes you, you. When we first met, you had tears in your eyes. Although little did you and I know, that wasn’t the case. You saved me, (Y/N). You saved me from myself.” 

You were completely calm now, only tears escaping you. He pulled his head back to look at you and smiled at you as he wiped your tears. “So even if I have to be strong for the both of us...don’t think for a moment you even have to ask.” He kissed your lips softly. 

When Caius returned to the throne room, he walked into Aro and Marcus’ stares.  “Are they well?” Aro asked lightly. Caius wore a small smile. “Yes.”  “Doesn’t it frighten you brother?” Marcus asked to Caius and Aro’s surprise. “Doesn’t it frighten you how they can lose themselves in their own thoughts like that?” Caius thought about it as he returned to his throne. “Frighten me? No. It concerns me, from time to time. I fear what they think in those difficult moments. If they’re feeling helpless or alone but that’s not the end of it.” Caius explained.  “I don’t know what i could have done for Didyme if she had ever experienced that.” Marcus said, mostly to himself. Caius turned to Marcus, who looked sad and deep in thought.  “You would, brother.” Caius answered. “I assure you.” Marcus turned to Caius, who continued. “(Y/N) could get lost in their own head for days and whilst i’d feel all the concern for them. I know that in the end, even if they don’t know, that they’re strong enough to come back to me when they’re ready. Everyone needs someone and people who endure struggles as this, are very careful of who they rely on. Those that they can depend on and trust to help them...” Caius smiled slightly again. “...and I have the honour and privilege to say that (Y/N) trusts me to be that person. I can only hope that one day, they’ll realise that these moments are simply moments and for every bad day that they have, they don’t realise how much joy they’ve put into the world every single day. A thankless job that i will do my very best for eternity to reward.”

#warning #request #twilight #volturi #the volturi #caius volturi #reader #one shot #oneshot