#not for malicious reasons but because of her intense curiosity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

Blood pt.4

Stiles Stilinski x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2589 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The pack finally gets to meet this mystery girl of Stiles’ but that glaring secret of theirs just keeps causing problems.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

—————————————————————————————————

The table fell silent as you walked up to it, every single one of their attentions poised on you as if you were the most interesting thing they had ever seen in their entire lives.

You hated it.

For obvious reasons, werewolves made you really uncomfortable and as much as you wanted to trust that Stiles knew his friends well enough to know they weren’t going to freak out and rip you apart, you weren’t sure.

You didn’t like them.

Though, as Stiles became more and more aware of the fact that you were dragging your feet, his grasp on your hand tightened to help you remember that you weren’t completely alone.

“I’m going to be here the whole time, just relax” he prompted, hoping that his words were going to be enough to make you feel better about this whole thing while also knowing that wasn’t going to be.

This was something you never wanted to do in your life, but if you wanted to live your life here, you’d have to do it. You had to find out if what he said about them was true, so that you knew that you could stay.

It sucked.

The only thing that made you feel any better about this situation was seeing how well your act had worked on Scott this morning. If you kept it up like that, there was a chance that they would never know what you were at all.

Maybe you could just keep it a secret from them forever.

You had done crazier things.

By the time the two of you made it to the table, the entire group had shared knowing looks, shocked that the tall tale Scott had weaved about what he’d seen this morning wasn’t all one big lie. It just wasn’t something they ever thought would happen.

“Hey, there they are. I was worried you were playing hookie today” Scott grinned, addressing his words to his best friend, who only shrugged at his words.

Not showing up at all today would have been a better idea, all things considered, but you’d have to answer the questions at some point.

It was much better to just get it over with.

“Could you blame me?” Stiles jokes, sitting down beside Scott at the table, taking you with him. You were stiff as you sat down, doing your best to stick in your own little bubble without drawing too much attention to yourself.

Unfortunately, that was basically impossible given the circumstances.

The two of them shared a laugh before Scott addressed a question to you, one that you missed completely because you were still trying to come to terms with the situation you had found yourself in. There was just too much going on at once, and you couldn’t help but be a little overwhelmed.

You weren’t designed for this, after all.

You should have never been afraid of anything, or had to answer to anyone but that had gone out the window when you decided to attach yourself to a teenage boy who was involved with a pack of werewolves.

Just your luck.

“Y/N, honey. You okay?” Stiles hummed, obviously addressing you that way for their benefit. Scott had asked you a point blank question and while he was well aware of what was going on with you, they weren’t.

You had to get a handle on this.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just a lot at once” you shrugged, plastering that bubbly grin on your face that made you feel as though your cheeks could crack in two at any moment. It wasn't natural for you, but as you had previously decided, it was natural for this girl Stiles was dating.

This girl that you were pretending to be.

“It’s okay. We’re all friends. We’re just a little shocked at the news is all” Scott allowed, smiling at you in a way that was surprisingly genuine. It wasn’t like the werewolves you remembered from all those years ago, that were made up mostly of gnashing teeth and threats of violence.

He didn’t look like he could hurt anything, or anyone, even if he wanted to.

“Stiles didn’t tell you, did he? He can be so goofy sometimes” you laughed, bumping the male in question with your shoulder. The action was surprisingly natural for you, and Stiles reacted naturally as well.

Pretending to be a couple was the easiest part of this whole thing, for both of you.

It was real life that you were struggling with.

“I just didn’t know how” Stiles decided, moving your two hands, that were still interlocked, onto the tabletop. It was a blatant display of the relationship the two of you were supposed to share, but you didn’t mind it.

The more they focused on the show you were putting on, the less they could pay attention to you.

“Come on. Tell us more about it, how did you two meet?” another in the group, a redhead, prompted. She had a cheery demeanor, with eyes that held an intellect that you could have seen shining there a mile away.

She wasn’t a wolf, but she stank like one just like Stiles did, that much you could tell. Of course, she wasn’t human either, but based on what you could get from her alone, you had no clue what sort of creature she was.

“We sort of just ran into each other, and went to get a bite” you shrugged, not even bothering to hide the clever little nod to how you really met within your answer.

If nothing else, knowing something they didn’t made this a little more entertaining.

It was hardly the meet-cute that Lydia had been hoping for, but that didn’t mean she didn’t accept the answer you gave her. After all, it was clear that Stiles really had a thing for you and as long as he liked you, she liked you too.

Contrary to what you would have thought, she wasn’t as tough a critic as Scott seemed to be. He just wanted to figure out what was going on right now,

Stiles had never once had a girl over like that, and every time he’d ever gotten close, Scott knew about it. Sometimes, Stiles stopped talking to a girl to call him in the moment and let him know that he had talked to a cute girl.

He just had to make sure you were legit.

That was literally his whole job as his best friend.

“So, you go to school here Y/N? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before” he questioned, offering another comforting smile to you which you couldn't help but be a little tired of. Every time you looked at him, all you saw was your coven, torn apart and left for dead.

It was really putting a damper on this whole conversation.

“I used to live here actually, a while ago, and now I’m moving back. I actually enrolled when I got here, but it's been a little difficult getting used to being back” you shrugged, not totally lying this time.

Being around this many people, any number of whom could have walked in on you that day instead of Stiles, was hard to wrap your head around. You were so used to being alone; travelling alone, living alone.

You were always alone.

...But you had to do something, and if you wanted to stick around here for a little while, you knew that you had to build a life for yourself.

“She’s gonna stay with me for a little bit while her folks get settled” he allowed, hoping that at some point, the intense line of questioning would come to an end. Even if you were just a girl he was seeing like they believed, this was a bit much.

He’d never had this many questions for someone Scott was dating.

Though, Stiles knew that it was just his friend's curiosity that was driving him. There is no malicious intent or suspicion behind it, that you would likely want to read into it later when it was just the two of you alone.

This was just how Scott was sometimes.

“Well, it’s good you two have each other then”

You expected more, more questions or pointed looks in your direction but the group seemed content with the backstory they had been given, at least for now. The more direct questions he had, Scott was just going to ask Stiles when they were alone.

It would be easier that way, so that he didn’t make you super uncomfortable.

There was definitely still something about the relationship you two shared that Scott didn’t fully understand but eventually, he came to the same conclusion that Lydia had. It was clear that the two of you liked each other, and for now, that was good enough for him.

It had to be.

After all, he had no reason to assume there was something wrong with you. You had only just met and deciding things like that took time.

“They hate me” you decided, plopping down on Stiles’ bed as if you owned it. On the outside, your meeting them had gone fine but you just had this bad feeling about it. You hadn’t sold it hard enough, or maybe you had sold it too hard.

In any case, it seemed clear to you that they were never going to like you. Just the way Scott looked at you told you everything you needed to know.

They didn’t trust you, and they never would

You were an idiot to think that you would just be accepted here, like you belonged.

“What are you talking about? They loved you. You were great” he hummed, really not seeing where this was coming from. His friends had no reason not to like you, just like his dad was going to have no reason not to like you.

This was all going to be just fine.

All you had to do was trust him.

“I’m not supposed to have to do any of this. I’ve lived lifetimes, and never had to worry about something so trivial” you grumbled, your voice muffled by the pillows and blankets of his bed, which you were still face down on.

You didn’t want to do this, to pretend to be something you weren’t just so that you could live here but now that you were potentially in danger, you had to.

You had to keep this up until Stiles found a way to tell Scott what you really were and even after he did, there was a chance it wouldn't go well and you'd still have to leave. There was just too much that was up in the air for you to relax.

This wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Still, before Stiles could really get a chance to comfort you over the whole thing, your attention snapped up at the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. This time, it wasn’t accompanied by the terrible stench of dog, which meant it wasn’t Scott.

Sheriff Stilinski must have been home.

“Okay, this dinner is going to be a lot easier than at school. You just have to let me handle it” Stiles prompted, sure that you would be able to handle that much. If you could sit at a table full of werewolves, his dad wasn’t going to be a problem.

In fact, he had every confidence that tonight was going to go perfectly because Noah was so easy going.

Stiles was a good kid, he did as he was told and never got into too much trouble, if you didn’t count all the supernatural business. If the most he needed to do was have a girl stay at the house for a while, he doubted his dad would mind.

It wasn’t like he was home too often anyway.

You nodded, not bothering to tell him that you were pretty sure you’d decided to just let him handle everything from now on and stood up, doing your best to keep calm. Though, as it seemed to be doing a lot lately, something went wrong.

You couldn’t have dinner with his dad.

Not only did you not eat, and wouldn’t be eating but as far as food was concerned, you were also starving. You didn’t have to feed super often but with all this stress lately, your system had just blown through the little bit of blood you’d had yesterday.

If you didn’t get something in you soon, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Um, Stiles? Did you say dinner?” you clarified, though your comment served more as another gentle reminder that you weren't’ like he was. The male seemed to keep forgetting that you weren’t human like him, and that you couldn’t do the same things.

You had other things you needed to attend to, like the hunger gnawing at your system as you spoke.

“Oh, yeah-okay, change of plans. I’m going to have dinner with my dad and you’re going to stay here and lay low” he suggested, not really liking the idea of leaving you out. However, that was quickly remedied by the fact that you wouldn't have wanted to partake anyway.

As much as you had enjoyed a nice hot meal when you were human, you weren’t anymore and you preferred to get your meals from a different source.

“That sounds great, but what am I supposed to do about my dinner?” you asked, trying to be subtle about what you were going to have to do. There were some things about harboring a vampire in your home that weren’t pretty, and this was one of them.

...but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t just starve so that he would be more comfortable.

He had to figure something out, or else you would have a repeat of the event that got you here in the first place, and you were pretty sure he didn’t want to deal with that again. You got blood everywhere when you did that.

Besides, keeping you fed was in his best interest, considering you live in very close quarters with him now.

“I’ll take care of it” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead and heading out before he could even think about what it was that he’d done. His glaring feelings for you could wait, because he had something much more important to take care of first.

Thankfully, Stiles did have an idea.

If his best friend didn't ask too many questions, there was a way that he could get some blood for you without having to hurt, or even involve, another person. He just had to hope that Scott was willing to help him.

It was really a long shot, at this point.

“Hey Scott, buddy. When you get this message, I need a favor” he prompted, speaking as plainly as he could into his phone and leaving a voicemail for Scott that he could only hope the other male would get and be able to be cool about.

After all, what he was asking wasn’t exactly a normal thing best friends asked of each other, even when one of them was a werewolf.

It was definitely going to come with a few questions.

Stiles just had to hope that would be lucky enough to be able to lie his way out of those. He had been doing that an awful lot lately, but in his defense, he had a promise to keep.

167 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Note

How do all the other stands feel ab sr? I’m sure they all somewhat get along, right?

i’ve been wanting to give a longer, traditional hc style post about this!! since you’ve asked it’s the perfect opportunity to express my thoughts on it. it’s more of a combination of SR with the user and their stand, i hope that’s okay hjrktme

Bruno Bucciarati;

Sticky Fingers is the first Stand from Bucciarati’s group that you got to see! So there’s a special place in your heart for it. By extension, Bruno was the first person to see Scarlet Ribbons. SR was very inquisitive during their initial meeting, since it’s the first time she ever saw a Stand other than herself. She was looking around a lot, and lowkey wondering where are this things bows at??

Though Stand powers wildly vary from one another, Bruno was able to give you a general explanation of what to expect from SR. He didn’t want to go too overboard with advice because he feels a natural fighting style stemming from your own abilities/instinct is best, especially since your Stand is created from your soul. He basically just told you to go with your gut, which at the time felt a bit frustrating... it turned out to be good advice though!

Sticky Fingers and SR have almost opposite abilities in a way? SR can close up gaps whereas Sticky Fingers opens them up. It’s not uncommon that when you and Bruno are chatting, that your respective Stands are just kinda messing around in the distance. Sticky Fingers likes making zippers in walls, and SR tries to see if she can close them with ribbons... it doesn’t work like that, but it’s kinda endearing to see them interact with one another lmao.

Giorno Giovanna;

It’s gonna be super cute okay. Giorno in general might give the impression of knowing what he’s doing when it comes to romance, but he really is just winging it and kinda going ??? the entire time. Meanwhile, Gold Experience is going ham with SR, pulling all the stops to impress her (and you, by extension). His Stand makes flowers of a striking red color, trying to match the shade of SR’s ribbons!! Mostly poppies, tulips, and occasionally roses.

Giorno is kinda curious how SR seems to be out a lot of the time, he’s thinking should I do the same thing with GE...? You’ll be doing exercises, and SR is there bringing a water bottle over to you. Or when you’re cooking, SR is hovering over your shoulder wanting to help out as well. She’s just almost always around, even if only in the background to explore her surroundings. It makes Giorno let GE out more often, subconsciously.

He does ask you about it once, and you just kinda shrug and say SR likes the freedom to do as she pleases. Since she isn’t rambunctious like Pistols, you don’t see the harm in letting her roam around.

Gold Experience wants to try making ribbons, but the best it can do is creating ribbon eels. It’s not quite the same, but it’s a solid effort. Giorno just has to stop GE from putting the ribbon eel on his head in the same way SR has a ribbon on hers. Mista was around to witness this historical event, and no, he does not intend on letting Giorno live it down. Giorno’s grateful he stopped it from actually happening though.

Guido Mista;

Let’s just say your Stands together can be pretty chaotic. The first time you met Mista, and he realized you were a Stand user like himself, he had a very pressing question. When you showed him SR, he looked at it for a moment, as if in deep thought.

“D-does... yours talk too?”

Mista passed Polpo’s test only to be gifted talented, albeit troublesome little gremlins. Before he realized giving Pistols food is a reliable method of calming them down, it was a war zone. One of the mornings where the two of you had to do some standard protection fee collection, he looked like a borderline zombie. Lamenting that the Pistols refused to let him sleep, and asked if you’d please use SR to cover their mouths lmao. They were protesting the entire time, trying to convince you not to do it.

When Number Five starts crying, SR makes a little ribbon to put on his head!! It’s super cute and Mista’s heart is just leaping in his chest. Then, of course, all the other Pistols want one bc equal attention!! When the two of you aren’t paying solid attention to your Stands, you’ll sometimes spot SR testing how many accessories she can fit on the tiny Pistols. It isn’t a lot but they’re insistent on trying.

Pistols are always trying to get SR to do crazy stunts for their entertainment. Eventually, you had to lock your refrigerator with her ribbons to prevent the Pistols from stealing your food. But when you’re busy, the Pistols keep trying to convince SR to undo them so they can snack. She actually felt bad for them once, released the restriction, and the Pistols went to town on your leftovers. : (

Mista felt pity for you though and offered to take you out to get more food!! So it all worked out for his benefit in the end. The Pistols do not take issue in reminding him of this as well, saying that they’re the reason he got to go on a date with you. :’ )

Pannacotta Fugo;

He remained fiercely adamant on keeping Purple Haze from you for the longest time. Fugo hates how his Stand practically comes out of its own autonomy whenever you’re in the vicinity, wanting to get a closer look at you. There have been a lot of close calls when you first got to know when another, leading to Fugo abruptly leaving in conversations.

Your Stands get along well once Fugo feels comfortable enough to let Purple Haze out around you. Since SR is a long ranged Stand, she can do her cute ribbon tricks from a distance outside of the virus’ range!! Though she has a habit of trying to get closer, just out of curiosity. Fugo gets freaked out when this happens though, so she waits until he’s distracted with talking to you (a little genius)!

Purple Haze makes the biggest puppy dog eyes at SR, which humiliates Fugo to no end. He gives his Stand intense talks when you’re not around, telling him to keep it cool, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s an idiot. But as soon as he even mentions SR, Purple Haze gets all thrilled and is like !!! So it’s ultimately counterproductive. Fugo just hopes you don’t put two and two together, over why his soul likes yours so much. It’s his daily prayer...

Fugo has an embarrassing habit of doodling ribbons on stuff he’s working on, when he starts zoning out. When he realizes what it is he’s doing he gets flustered about it, cursing underneath his breath and hoping that you don’t happen to come by and notice. Unfortunately for him, as SR likes to see what everyone is up to, she came over and saw what he was doing. After putting two and two together, she gave him a nod and a thumbs up on his doodles. Didn’t snitch to you though, so the two of them have a mutual understanding. :’)

Narancia Ghirga;

He wants so badly to impress you with Aerosmith. Narancia will whip his Stand out in your presence at any given opportunity, having it do a few flips and tricks more than necessary. Then he stares over to see what you and SR think about it... she once clapped in Aerosmith’s honor. It was all Narancia could think about for the rest of the day.

The two Stands typically just play around with one another. Aerosmith likes to make little ribbon shaped clouds, and SR attempts making a plane shape out of her ribbons. It’s not quite the same, but she’s trying!! Narancia finds it adorable, and tries to make requests of shapes and stuff for her to make. SR does her best to fulfill the requests, concentrating hard on the task!!

Since SR enjoys making hair accessories, she’s tried to make a bandanna similar to Narancia’s for you. Though she ultimately scrapped the idea, giving you a disapproving look and fastening it back into the normal bow it normally is lmao. When you mentioned this behavior to Narancia he was like wait, what?? Lemme see! But if SR doesn’t find something fashionable, she doesn’t have any intention on doing it again. So he’s outta luck...

It doesn’t stop him from asking about it. He just can’t believe that your Stand thought about him when he wasn’t around!! It touched him in a way he never knew possible. It’s also a bit of a relief since you’re often the subject of his thoughts.

Leone Abbacchio;

Similar in a sense to Fugo, where he didn’t want Moody Blues around you that much at first. He takes a much more serious approach to his Stand than others, since it’s deeply rooted in his past trauma. It’d actually be one of the few moments he might snap at you, should you ask to see his Stand one too many times. Not out of malicious intent, he’s just... very disillusioned with Moody Blues at first.

You two had a job which required some investigative work, the client having seemingly disappeared with some goods that belonged to Passione. Figuring out what happened with the merchandise was essentially child’s play for Moody Blues, a replay showing the full extent of the events. Abbacchio wasn’t keen on showing you his Stand, but it couldn’t be helped any longer.

Unlike the others who tended to pester him on the extent of Moody Blues’ abilities, you just complimented him. Saying that it’s similar in utility to your Stand. You willingly comparing yourself to him, and in a positive light nonetheless, kinda had him at a loss for words.

He didn’t really offer a strong rebuttal like he normally would, so you assumed he didn’t think much of your comment. Which, of course, couldn’t be further from the truth. If you could see good in him of all people, then well... there was a lot for him to think about that night.

After this incident, he’s noticeably just a tad kinder to you in general. What you said meant a lot to him. Obviously not enough to make all his self deprecation go away overnight, but it just gave a small glimmer of hope. That maybe he can someday be better.

Trish Una;

Another person that I picture SR being especially adorable with!! After the events of Bruno betraying the boss, you and SR would be feeling hurt on Trish’s behalf. You instantly draw the parallels of living a carefree life, only for Passione/gangsters to come in and essentially ruin everything.

While dealing with the pain of rejection from her father figure, Trish also wonders if you consider her less important. Since your original job was to protect her, due to being the boss’ daughter, wouldn’t it make sense you don’t care about her now that it’s no longer your job to?

SR covers the spot where her hand was severed with a bow, even after Giorno properly heals it. Trish just looks at you confused, and you explain it’s your Stand’s way of wanting to help her feel better. That where her father had inflicted pain, Trish has the support and strength from you and herself to overcome it.

Needless to say, Trish thinks highly over you, the feeling extending over to Spice Girl. During your meetups after everything is over, Spice Girl and Scarlet Ribbons come out and embrace one another!! Well, it’s more like SR goes for the hug, and Spice Girl is just :’) woah affection. Trish finds it a little embarrassing at first, but secretly loves and it and looks forward to it. Though she does wish Spice Girl was a tad more discreet.

During Trish’s travels for her singing career, if there’s anything that even vaguely reminds her/Spice Girl of you, she snaps a photo to text to you. It’s mostly red hair accessories and clothing, which she of course purchases. Spice Girl misses SR a lot, so expect to receive a lot of texts asking how you and your Stand are doing.

When Scarlet Ribbon spots Trish’s name popping up on your phone, she immediately brings it over. The Stand impatiently shoves your phone in your face, as if to say respond now!! It’s Trish, it’s important!! Scarlet Ribbons loves her a lot 🥺 especially since Trish sends her accessories...

406 notes · View notes

kim-miri · 3 years

Text

HALF(have a little fun) pt. vii

→ one | two | three | four | five | six

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part seven / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 4,732

☾vii. part vii: start of something new

Waking up in a warm, quiet room 199 floors from the ground at Heaven’s Arena, Sayomi sat up in her bed, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

She had slept more soundly than she had in a while, between Meteor City and the watching eyes of the Mafia.

But maybe it was the faint, earthy scent that Kite had left behind, or perhaps it was the fact that Sayomi was now free to live on her own in one of the most populated cities in the world. She decided it was the latter this time around.

A good night’s sleep had proved to resolve the conflicting thoughts in her head, as Sayomi settled that Kite was a good friend, and would never be anything more.

In this way, she was able to accept the reality that there had never been anything more than friendly interactions between them, and it would stay that way.

In all honesty, she needed a teacher if she was going to make a life out of fighting at Heaven’s Arena. And judging by the immense aura Kite had surrounding him even while he was resting, she knew he outclassed her in nen abilities.

As of now her nen acted as her last line of defense, still being rather inconsistent and hard to control. Though she had improved a great deal with her independent training in Meteor City, she still had a lot to learn about the potentials of her abilities.

Stretching out her limbs and rising from bed, Sayomi got ready for the day ahead of her.

☾vii.

Kite and his student were waiting for Sayomi on the 60th floor, as Stick Dinner had his 60s match later today.

The three would train in the gym on this floor as they waited for Stick’s match to come around. It was rather empty because the 60th floor was merely a transitioning floor where contestants would come and go.

Kite started his two students off with a basic nen introduction, explaining the four major principles: Ten, Zetsu, Ren, and Hatsu.

Sayomi had already learned all about nen and its history back when she was around 4 years old alongside Illumi. Kite was aware of this as well but needed to explain the basics to Stick.

A long lecture and one Water Divination Test later, and Stick was now educated of his nen abilities and excited to learn more.

They had now moved onto attempting to recognize Stick’s hatsu, which would become his own personal nen ability.

Sayomi’s own hatsu was already established, being her hypnotic spell and corpse control. And because she had only truly used it while fighting for her life in Meteor City, she still had significant difficulties with using her power.

Kite was also aware of Sayomi’s hatsu from the days he’d used to visit Kukuroo Mountain. He remembered Sayomi demonstrating her power on weak intruders and aggressive animals, their deceased corpses moving like puppets at her command.

Though he’d never say it out loud, it was quite terrifying.

For this exact reason, Kite had apologetically said Sayomi should wait until she was free to use nen in the 200s battles to train her hatsu. It was just too dangerous to practice for the purpose of training.

Therefore, instead of practicing her hatsu like Stick, Sayomi was put to work training her ren. She would have to maintain it for an hour today, and Kite mentioned she would eventually progress to longer durations of time.

Sayomi’s ren was intense, she had to stay 10 feet away from anyone else to make sure she didn’t affect them. Her body was surrounded in a malicious, deep purple shroud of energy, contrasting with Kite’s pure white aura.

☾vii.

Half an hour had passed with Kite’s training, said man working with Stick to strengthen his hatsu while Sayomi stood concentrated on maintaining her ren.

As of now, she was still fine, just rather bored with the method of training.

She opted to watch the on-going fights on the monitor above her instead of staring at the wall in front of her. However, this proved to be even worse, as the contestants she watched were all terribly amateur.

Sighing when she saw a contestant trip over his own feet on the monitor, she had caught Kite’s attention. “Not tired yet?”

Sayomi looked to Kite with a guilt-ridden expression. “Ah, not yet, but that’s not why I… nevermind. Sorry!”

Kite let out a rather short laugh at her frantic apology, walking just outside her ren aura to stand in front of her.

“No need to apologize. This exercise is meant to be a drag, it trains not only strengthening your nen, but also patience and putting mind over body. Looks like… you have about 20 minutes left, keep it up!”

Sayomi smiled weakly at Kite’s attempt at encouragement. He was a blunt person by nature so to anyone else his words probably came across as sarcastic, but Sayomi recognized his sincerity.

She thanked him with a short smile.

Around the 50 minute mark, Sayomi was finally breaking out a sweat, her arms and legs had actually been burning for a while now, but she’d been holding in any signs of weakness.

She was getting a little dizzy now, putting more force into her legs in order to stay upright and not swaying along with the room in front of her.

“Annnd time. Sayomi your hour’s up.”

Sayomi’s ren faded as she fell back to lean against the wall for support.

Damn, I must be out of shape or something.

Kite stepped over to where Sayomi stood trying to catch her breath. “Not as easy as you thought?”

She looked up with a sneer. “I’m just getting started, gimme a week and I’ll pass you up.”

Kite’s eyes were now filled with amusement. Having sent Stick off to standby for his match, he took a seat in front of Sayomi, motioning for her to do the same.

Sayomi sat cross-legged with her head resting against the wall, her eyes closed as she attempted to regenerate her aura.

“What’s your record anyway?”

Kite looked across at the exhausted girl. “About a day.”

“A DAY?!” Sayomi’s eyes flew open at Kite’s response, clearly having underestimated her instructor.

He only nodded in return, wishing to change the subject off of himself. “If I may ask... what exactly is the eldest daughter of the Zoldyck family doing at a place like Heaven’s Arena?”

There was the question. She was surprised he hadn’t asked her earlier.

To lie or not to lie…

“My parents sent me here as a test of strength. I’m not allowed back until I reach the very top.” Sayomi lied through her teeth, not wanting to tell Kite about her banishment.

That should convince him.

“The very top? Ah, so they wish for you to become a floor master. I see... well with the right training, you can surely get to that point perhaps within a few years?” Kite looked at Sayomi expectantly.

A few years? What the hell even is a ‘floor master’?

With a measly lie, Sayomi had screwed herself over. She had originally intended in making a few million jenny by cruising through the 100s and getting her own room. But with this whole floor master thing, she could already sense that her future at Heaven’s Arena would become much more complex.

The title does sound pretty cool though… maybe I’ll just go along with the flow for now.

“Right! Haha… they want me to become a floor master. So you think you’ll be able to help me get there?”

Kite looked deep in thought. Did I say something wrong?

Meeting Sayomi’s eyes once again, he spoke. “On second thought Sayomi… I’ve made a promise to train Stick Dinner, and with the danger of your nen abilities, I don’t think I can do you any good as an instructor.”

She was about to take back her words and say becoming a floor master was unnecessary, but he cut her off.

“However, I just realized something that I should’ve thought of before. I’m not sure how you’d get along, but there is someone with more experience than me at Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi looked up, interested in his proposal.

Noticing her apparent interest, Kite continued, “I happen to owe him a favor as well, because I’ve been staying in his room on the 200th floor with Stick. He’s… a rather interesting person, and he finds enjoyment in fighting powerful individuals. But nevermind his personality, I think you would benefit greatly from his experience both with nen and Heaven’s Arena, more than I could ever do for you.”

Kite examined Sayomi’s expression, it seemed to be a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity.

“I’m not proposing you make a decision right away, as he’ll actually be absent for some time… but I recommend you consider it as a possibility.”

In her mind, Sayomi was unsure of what to think about this mysterious acquaintance of Kite, but in her heart and soul, there was an undeniable hunger for more power and more recognition. If she were to become a floor master, her name would surely spread throughout Yorknew City and perhaps even reach her parents.

“When will he return?”

Kite smiled at her sign of interest in his offer. He knew she would be able to handle his colleague’s eccentric personality, and from there she would only have room to grow even stronger.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. He’s a very spontaneous man, and the last time I saw him he mentioned traveling around the world to find his next rival.”

Sayomi thought about her current options.

“I understand… training my nen would most likely require the death of victims, which you would never allow, but without improving my nen I would seemingly get destroyed in the 200s matches. Right?”

Kite took a moment to consider her words. “Yes, more or less.”

Sayomi nodded in return. “So then supposedly… this acquaintance of yours would be willing to train my nen even if it would mean others will die?”

“Precisely.” Kite grimaced at her blunt deduction of his words.

Sayomi threw her arms back, resting her hands behind her head. “Well alright then! Until this friend of yours gets back I guess I’ll just see how far I can get without using my nen.”

“Acquaintance. But yes, I suppose fighting without your nen until he gets back would be a good use of time.”

☾vii.

Sayomi and Kite headed to the stands of the arena after wrapping up their conversation. Kite’s student was up for the next match, leaving the two childhood friends to watch amongst the crowd.

Stick’s match went smoothly, he had outsmarted his opponent by anticipating each of his attacks, and in the end all he had left was to tire him out enough to land the finishing blow.

He was now qualified to continue on to the 70s, while Sayomi’s fight would be the next day.

☾vii.

Kite stood leaning against the back wall of the 60th floor arena, his eyes focused on the light-footed girl currently playing around with her opponent in the ring.

He felt almost a sense of pride, watching the little Zoldyck girl who had used to be too shy as to even raise her voice, now dancing around in the illuminated arena full of confidence.

She was taking her time with the unworthy opponent who stood across from her. Under normal circumstances, Kite would have been infuriated with Sayomi’s disrespectful actions, but this time it was much different.

Her opponent had spent the final minutes before their match catcalling and spilling other obscene words towards Sayomi. Kite had moved to step in between the two contestants, ready to punch the man’s teeth in, but Sayomi had given him a look so full of malice he knew to hold back.

She was waiting to absolutely ruin her opponent in the ring.

So when he saw Sayomi taking her sweet time and making a fool out of the man who’d previously disrespected her, Kite only smirked in satisfaction from a distance.

Sayomi you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you… all this anger and hatred coursing through your aura.

In the arena, Sayomi brought a swift heel down on her opponent's hand. An attack that was worth no points but only for the purpose of causing pain.

Pain… who hurt you Sayomi? What ever happened to the girl who’d cried when she accidentally swatted a butterfly?

Kite experienced a flurry of conflicting emotions as he watched Sayomi torture and eventually knock down her opponent.

He was worried about her emotional health, knowing for sure now that she had experienced something so tragic and crucial it’d turned her pure aura a 180 degree turn into bloodlust and malice.

However, he was glad to know one thing was for sure.

She would definitely survive and benefit from his unstable colleague’s training, for now he realized they were so similar it was almost as if they were the same person.

Or perhaps two halves of a whole.

☾vii.

1 year later

It was the weekend and Sayomi was currently on an off day in between fights.

In the year that had passed with her progressing through Heaven’s Arena, Sayomi was now a single fight away from the 200s.

Admiring the view from Kite’s old room on the 199th floor, she smiled to herself. 200s at last.

The truth was that Sayomi had a room of her own now, being well into the 100s. However she’d already been so accustomed to using Kite’s room that she’d convinced him into switching rooms with her.

Now that all three of them had rooms of their own, the borrowed room on the 200th floor was empty once again, waiting for the return of its owner.

Sayomi had just finished combat training with Kite and Stick, still unable to use her nen because of the possible consequences.

As she gazed longer out the window in front of her, she started to see her reflection cast in the clear glass, and soon it was all she saw.

Who am I?

Staring back at her, the reflection she saw in the window was much different than she’d expected. Her violet eyes were dull, emotionless, and the passion that had once lit up her soul was now gone, replaced with a worn out ghost of who she used to be.

This was all it took to make Sayomi forget about all she had done to make it to where she was now. This, being her reminiscent thoughts about the family that had ditched her.

She may have declared to herself millions of times that she was indeed her own person now, but the lingering desire to be loved once again forced her start over every single time.

She needed someone to rely on, though she’d never admit it. It was her constant overthinking that she would only become a burden to those who cared about her that stopped her from seeking support in others. Her family had left her insecure and broken, desperate for someone else’s attention.

Let’s see… If Illumi and I are turning 19 this year, that means… Killua will be 9.

9 years old, huh…

I wonder if he still looks like me? God, if I were with him I think I’d spend every last jenny just to see that smile one more time.

...I hope you’re hanging in there Killua.

Just wait a little bit longer, and I promise I’ll come save you.

Forgive me I just need more time to be able to face everyone again.

☾vii.

Watching the sunset over Yorknew City from his new room on the 199th floor, Kite was currently typing back a response to a rather unclear message he’d received from his traveling colleague.

No matter how many times he’d read it, he just couldn’t decipher the exact reason or message behind the text he had received.

Staring at it with a skeptical expression, he read it once more:

Isn’t it quite amusing how fate plays out sometimes?

I’ve arrived in the city and can’t wait to meet this student of yours, as it seems I’ve already partially met her without even realizing it.

I can’t wait to start training with her. ♥️

Kite let out an exasperated sigh.

What does he mean by ‘I’ve already partially met her’? I swear he’s always so ambiguous with his words.

Damn, what an exhausting guy.

☾vii.

Today was the day of Sayomi’s fight that would determine whether she’d advance into the 200s. That meant it was also the last day Sayomi would fight without her nen and weapons.

However, her day was about to get much more eventful than a promotion into the 200s.

Kite’s acquaintance had arrived in the city the other day, and after a short visit to a friend, he would make it back to Heaven’s Arena later today to meet his new student.

Kite had no knowledge about this part, as all he was told was that he had arrived in the city.

Back in the 199th floor arena, Sayomi had arrived early, taking her time to stretch and enjoy the time left before her final fistfight.

Kite stood alongside Sayomi in the mostly empty waiting room, it would be his last day with his childhood friend, at least without an excuse to spend time with her.

Once she was in the 200s, Kite wouldn’t be able to do much for her, as he had his own student to manage.

He stared sympathetically at the little Zoldyck girl from his childhood. She had grown into a relentless fighter, leaving no time to enjoy living her life during her prime years.

All he could now was hope that his assumptions about his colleague were right, in that he would not only provide Sayomi with the right training, but also fun and other things kids of her age should be doing.

Sayomi finished her preparations well before the scheduled time of the fight, leaving the two with time to talk and reminisce about the old days.

They’d also talked briefly about Sayomi’s new instructor. Kite explained how he’d finally arrived in the city the other day, coming back from seeking out the most powerful assassins and hunters to challenge in fights to the death.

Sayomi was delighted at this, getting a feeling that this mysterious instructor would put up a solid fight against her while they trained. “You said he was on the 200th floor, right? Has he not been able to defeat a floormaster yet?”

Kite raised his eyebrows at her question. “Ah… no, not yet. But I believe that’s because he’s constantly sidetracked with trying to find his ‘perfect rival’.”

Sayomi bit the inside of her cheek, confused. “Hmm but if he’s back now… does that mean he found someone worthy on his trip?”

Kite nodded at this. “Yes, I believe so. It’s either he’s satisfied with the amount of people he’s massacred, or he’s found a formidable opponent he knows he can come back and fight at a later time.”

“I see… he sounds… rather interesting.” Sayomi was actually a bit excited, it’d been a while since she was to face someone of such a high reputation.

Beside her, Kite had taken notice of the slight change in Sayomi’s aura. It seems I predicted correctly, she’ll get along just fine.

☾vii.

“Our next fight decides who moves on to the 200th floor. We have Ichihiro versus Sayomi! At this time, choose your side and place your bets!”

Under the spotlights, Sayomi stood with her hands resting behind her head. Her eyes remained closed, she seemed to be taking the last minutes to relax.

“The bets are in! Looks like today’s match is in favor of Sayomi Zoldyck!”

Ichihiro let out a scoff, mocking his opponent who, in his eyes, seemed overconfident to the point where she didn’t even need to look at him. “Are you nice and relaxed over there, girl? I’ll tell you now you’re gonna regret facing me.”

Sayomi disregarded her opponent's words. In reality, she was worried, and anyone who could see her aura could notice this as well.

Kite turned his head at Sayomi’s restlessness. What is she so tense for?

Sayomi tightened her grip around her other hand. Inside her head, she tried to calm the exhilaration that stemmed as a result of her final match without weapons. She couldn’t wait to finally stand on the 200th floor.

In other words, Sayomi wasn’t afraid, or intimidated by her opponent. She was worried for him.

God damn… if I don’t calm down I might accidentally kill the guy.

The adrenaline rushing through her was threatening to spike over, which would cause her to lose control and flip her assassin switch on.

Relax, Sayomi.

“Fighters ready? Following the 100s rules there will be no time limit and fighters will fight until a TKO by 10 points or a KO.”

Sayomi opened her eyes, moving to stand upright as she stared at her opponent.

“The winner will move onto the 200th floor. Fight!”

Ichihiro held back from making the first move. He had reviewed Sayomi’s last fight and seen her strategy of using her opponent’s force against them.

Sayomi raised an eyebrow at his lack of movement.

Not gonna move, huh? So you think you’re smart.

She took off with steps faster than the average eye could see.

I guess I’ll just have to come to you then.

With a flexible left leg, Sayomi lifted her heel above her opponent's head, slamming it straight into the side of the unexpecting man’s face with a roundhouse kick.

Ichihiro stumbled to the side gasping, spitting out blood from his now split gums.

He raised his head ready to curse out the teen, but all he saw was white.

Sayomi had met the man’s face with a solid left foot, sending him backwards onto the ground with a cry of pain.

Ichihiro was clutching his bloody face now, unable to recover in time for yet another left swing kick, this time to the side.

From far back against the wall, Kite watched with a surprised expression on his face.

She’s holding back quite a bit. Only using her left leg…

A few more solid kicks to the ribs and Sayomi halted her movements as if on command. Turning to the baffled referee, she asked, “TKO by 10 points right?”

“Ah, r-right.”

Shaking out of his apparent shock at the one-sidedness of the match, the referee raised a flag. “Winner by TKO. Sayomi Zoldyck!”

The crowd cheered as they could now collect their money from the bets they’d made.

With a small wave to Kite at the back of the stands, Sayomi exited the arena with light steps.

She was proud of herself for restraining her bloodlust.

☾vii.

That night Sayomi treated Stick and Kite to dinner on Heaven’s Arena’s 200th floor diner.

It was a congratulatory dinner, as Sayomi would now be moving on to training her nen, but it was also one of sentimental feelings. The group of three had become close friends within the year they’d spent together training at Heaven’s Arena.

So although no one addressed the fact that the group of three was to become a group of two after today, everyone shared a bit of the sorrow in their hearts as the evening soon came to an end.

The three parted ways around 9, Kite wishing the best to Sayomi on the 200th floor. It wasn’t like they’d never see each other again, they were only a floor apart after all.

However, without the excuse of training or a coincidental passing by, the childhood friends knew that they most likely wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while.

☾vii.

Sayomi let out a heavy sigh as she walked alone down the hallway of doors to her room.

Releasing her hair from its taught ponytail, Sayomi ran a lazy hand down her face.

Can a day get any longer? All I wanna do now is take a nice, warm shower… and then sleep in till noon.

Arriving in front of her door at last, Sayomi reached into her pockets for her room key. Sliding the key into the lock, she frowned when she found the door to be unlocked.

Strange… I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten to lock the door before. Maybe because I was too excited?

Sayomi shrugged, speculating she’d probably forgotten to lock the door out of the rush to get ready in the morning.

Swinging the door open without another thought, Sayomi moved to take a step further into her room when a cold chill ran down her spine.

What… is… this devilish aura?

She was on full alert now, awakening her own aura to try and ward off her intruder.

In the darkness of her room, she could make out a faint silhouette surrounded by the deep purple, murderous aura she’d felt earlier.

“Who… are you? What are you doing in my room?” Though she’d sworn her voice was steady, there was a hint of uncertainty as the intruder’s aura became more intense.

The intruder turned to face Sayomi in the darkness. “Hm? Ah, you’ve finally returned… I’ve been most awaiting your presence, Sayomi Zoldyck.”

The man took exaggeratingly slow steps towards her, and Sayomi noticed he walked almost completely on his toes. Almost like he was walking across a tightrope.

She squinted through the darkness, perplexed at the stranger knowing her name. Her mind screamed at her to fight, run, do something, but her feet remained frozen in place as the man’s figure slowly illuminated with the dim lights of the hallway.

The man was considerably tall, though he was also wearing heels, an interesting feat. His brilliant red hair was styled as if he’d been caught in a windstorm, framing an all too pale face with distinct face paint decorating either cheek: a star on the left and a teardrop on the right.

In a way, he was handsome.

This crossed Sayomi’s mind as well, however she’d mentally slapped herself as she was brought back into the reality of the situation.

“How do you know my name?” Sayomi was on guard, ready to either attack or run on a moment’s notice.

The man only laughed, his pale lips turning upwards in a wide smile as he looked Sayomi over from head to toe.

“Oh darling, you mean you haven’t caught on to the situation yet?”

A step closer and the man’s full frame was now in front of Sayomi to see in all his glory. Broad shoulders, chiseled, toned biceps, a tiny waist, and proportions to die for.

Get a grip, he just broke into your room.

In her flustered state, both from confusion and the rather attractive man towering over her, Sayomi suddenly felt as though she’d forgotten how to speak.

Her mouth opened and closed without sound, concentrated entirely on the man in front of her.

Sayomi’s frazzled state seemed to add on to man’s already overflowing confidence as he let out another brief laugh before crossing his arms.

“It seems as though Kite has yet to tell you anything about my arrival.” He frowned before continuing, “Well, I suppose you’ll find out all about me in no time, I’m your new trainer after all.”

Sayomi eyes widened at his words. Of course, Kite said he was arriving soon, I totally forgot!

“Ah… well in that case… nice to meet you?”

Her new trainer smirked at her hesitation. “I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be so visually appealing, darling. It seems Kite decided to keep your beauty from me for as long as he could, that sly bastard.”

Sayomi felt her face heat up in a mad blush. No one had ever called her such things, as she was accustomed to words like vicious or murderous.

Sayomi failed to get the words out of her mouth once again, effectively fazed by the man’s comments.

Said man ran a slender hand through his hair, laughing once again at his undeniable effect on the young assassin.

Reaching out ever so slowly, he grazed his knuckles over the left side of Sayomi’s face, who in turn became even further flustered at the sudden skinship.

“You, my dear, are going to be quite the pleasure to work with.”

☾vii.

a/n: guess who?

taglist open:))

82 notes · View notes

xbustian · 3 years

Photo

CHARACTER PARALLELS

Crowley ( Good Omens ) , Kaz Brekker ( Six of Crows ) , Faith Lehane ( Buffy ) , Roy Kent ( Ted Lasso ) , Thomas Shelby ( Peaky Blinders ) , Berlin ( Money Heist ) , Annalise Keating ( HTGAWM )

TIDBITS:

Age : 20 ( Jan 13 )

Born : Limerick

Father : TBD

Mother : Azra

Step--Mother : TBD

Half-Brother : Rodolphus

SECOND-PERSON HISTORY BITS:

You were born into royalty the bastard son of a whore, but a Lestrange prince nonetheless, second only to your older half-brother, Rodolphus. Despite the dimpled smile and chubby cheeks, you were nothing but a spare. A safety net. A necessary mistake as your birth mother was sent away with a dark threat lingering over her. Should anyone ask: you were the product of a perfect marriage. You would call the woman who despised you, despised what you reminded her of, MOTHER.

Despite the circumstances, your father looked upon you with proud features. His chest stuck out and he held his head high as he appraised his two sons like a diamond he would consider buying. But when you burrowed deep within the sheets of your bed, or played those childish games with whatever nanny your mother hired that week, your father was busy appraising other avenues. You didn’t realize this when you were younger, but your father controlled an impressive legacy. He was the captain of a rich and beautiful figurative ship, compared only to the Flying Dutchman.

He produced fear like a billionaire entrepreneur.

It took a long time for you to realize what exactly your role in the family was. The cavalry, they called you. The warrior who would ride in and save whoever was lost or in danger. You see, as you grew older, and your temper began to surface, your proud parents no longer viewed you as a simple back-up plan. No, you were so much more than that. You were to act as a confidant to your brother an easy enough task, you thought ignorantly, seeing as you had already taken up the mantle. But the cavalry was a heavy crown to rest upon your head, and you began to feel the weight the more your parents discussed your future. Because even at eleven, or thirteen, or fifteen, you could see their definition of cavalry change. It adapted the more they viewed your growth. You were too smart, too tough to be thrown in the background. You were made to stand up front with the rest.

You began to feel separated from yourself. People would discuss you, in front of you, and you would think they were bragging about some stranger you never met. You even found yourself thinking, God, this bastard sounds like a total fucking tool. Though you couldn’t exactly blame them. It was your fault, too. Your mind was too curious, too far reaching to listen and merely agree. You read Machiavelli’s The Prince and found power to be something earned rather than inherited. Were you truly a Lestrange man if you sat back and let royalty wash over you? Or were you nothing but a figurehead without the brains to control them?

While most settled for flattery when it came to life, you settled for fear, because it was always safer than love. To care about someone was to owe them something in return, and you refused to owe anyone. Not your father, not your mother, and certainly not your brother (or so you liked to think). You were a machine: alone and angry, pulling at strings to unravel whatever bullshit people would throw your way. You acted like a proletariat sometimes, wishing your life wasn’t so luxurious and stiff. You wished your parents weren’t so perfect because then you would have a reason to slouch. It was all incredibly moronic. The crown was getting much too heavy and soon, you were drowning.

But then she gave you air to breathe. Harper Macmillan: the exception to every one of your rules.

You never told her this, but the first time you noticed her was when you were fourteen years old. Sure, you watched her as she was placed in Hufflepuff, mentally noting how cute you thought she was - but it wasn’t until three months into your Charms lesson that she truly embedded herself within the recesses of your mind. Finally succeeding with her charm, she let out a contagious laugh and you couldn’t help but compare the shine of her smile to the stars above.

Harper was as tantalizing as she was beautiful, and you despised the way her surname left a bitter taste in your mouth. The Macmillan family were blood traitors and you could remember every shallow and disgusting thing your parents and their friends have said about them. They are trash, and we would rather them lay dead on the floor than have them so much as look our way, his parents snapped.

So you were fourteen and you ignored her. You were fifteen and you ignored her. You were sixteen and you ignored her. You were seventeen and your palms began to bleed because Thomas Peak, the stupid mudblood, asked her out. You clenched your fists so hard you barely noticed the way your fingernails dug into your skin. You couldn’t remember feeling so angry. So murderous.

Your jealousy continued to brew as you noticed how she and her blood traitor friends rarely ever parted. How come she could associate herself with someone so low, and you couldn’t? You complain to yourself, but you know, deep down, that you are held to a much higher standard. But still, the curiosity got the better of you, and when you were seventeen you approached her friend with a question about class, subtly looking over at Harper before saying hello. You pretended not to care. You pretended to acknowledge her with such little interest that you might as well have been speaking to a wall. And when she said hi back? You shrugged. Uncaring. But your heart practically ripped itself out of your chest right then and there, forcing you to rush off the moment her friend finished her answer.

One word. Just one fucking word. Harper Macmillan uttered one word to you and you were convinced she belonged to you. Like a possession. Like the gems your mother would polish, or the money your father would practically swim in. She was yours. Eventually you could look at nothing else, your eyes always washing over her lithe form whenever she walked into a room. She was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you felt no desire to torture yourself by staying away. People swarmed you, treated you like a god, and yet you kept looking only at her.

And one day … she looked back.

No one knew of your relationship - or so you told yourself. You were smart enough to know when to be careful, smart enough to never mention her name. And sure, your anger got the better of you from time to time, resulting in a bloodied mess of any stupid fool who thought it smart to flirt with your girl - the same girl who appeared single to anyone curious enough to look.

It was your own fault, and you bloody knew it too.

Feeling this way was changing you and you didn’t like it. You felt more open to discussion, often keeping an eye out for Rodolphus simply to ask how he was doing. While a part of you always cared, despite your objections to the matter, you were never so open about it - once having been caught like a deer in headlights when claiming you were proud. A simple scoff and chuckle later and the matter was resolved. You were joking, of course. But you knew, deep down, if you didn’t get control of the matter, you wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer. Over the years, the blonde was slowly erasing what your parents so forcefully cast upon you: your inability to be a human fucking being.

To make matters worse, or better depending on who you asked, you have been secretly in contact with your birth mother. Having given up on ever knowing her, it was a surprise when an owl flew your way, dropping off a letter from the woman you thought was long gone. She never forgot about you - and unlike your other family members, she took a keen interest in your interests. She wanted to know everything about you. Naturally you kept out a lot, inwardly terrified she would be as disgusted with you as you were of yourself. But just like Harper, she was your connection to something safer. Something happier. And the greedy bastard in you won’t let her go.

Your family can never know.

PERSONALITY

The man is infamous and rightly so. But despite his reputation, Rab has been known to isolate himself more often than not. Reasonably eschewing human interaction, he uses this time to reflect on himself, his body and its warnings. This is called interoception, and Rab requires this level of perception in order to control his anger and shift it into something more positive. Helpful. With this understanding he is able to exercise full consciousness, therefore limiting the times he allows his temper to roam free. Furthering this point, this helps guide him when understanding others emotionally. When he is able to better understand his enemies, he is able to view their hopes and aspirations. To know them is to know how to defeat them.

He is constantly at odds with himself. He prides control over mostly everything and yet he struggles with intense anger issues. He becomes malicious and vindictive, almost blind to the world around him. When Rab sees red, no consequences exist. This is, once again, why he tries his best to remain isolated - until his services are needed, of course. Then he wears a twisted smirk and dances along the line that separates sanity and insanity. Switching back and forth is tiring, and he often disappears for long periods of time following an intense change. People are unaware of where he goes, and they don’t try to find him.

Even the most feared of students know to give him his space.

While this may be difficult to see, Rabastan is a family man. Despite the endless deception and bullshit, he continues to side with his immediate relatives. They are his connection to ethos. His reminder that he is human and worthy of being loved. This can be seen as his ultimate weakness. For instance, his father threatened his mother and blackmailed her, and yet he still stands beside his father and shows a form of loyalty that could not be matched. He would die for his family - something they would be all too quick to accept. His devotion to the Lestrange family has nothing to do with their legacy or their name, but rather their blood relations. He has made the mistake of trusting them time and time again only to be disappointed in the end.

Rab expects disappointment and therefore always has a back-up plan. He can bounce back to an almost pathological degree, wiping figurative (or sometimes literal) blood from his face with nonchalance painted across his features. He uses his disappointments as a way to empower himself. His limits are constantly being challenged and he has repeatedly come out on top, showing a tenacity that is difficult, if not impossible to duplicate.

#revelio.intro #hi garbage man #here is my trash #harper ain't here yet #oops

6 notes · View notes

danddymaro · 4 years

Text

Death Stranding | Sweet Façade

Pairing : Higgs monaghan X Reader // Sam Bridges x Reader

First part : Stay

Previous: Goodbye

Again, this is just a little direction I want to go; a little idea that pathed it’s own way.

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

Wordcount: 3066

Sweet Façade

Small globs of rain descended from the gloomy sky as a calm shower of precipitation stretched out for miles, something which didn't bother the calm male as he coolly made his way into the shelter, brushing off the bits of moisture that stuck to his shoulders with his gloved hands.

“ Package for miss (f/n) (l/n),” the arriving porter said aloud, his voice bouncing off the walls of the safe enclosure as he stepped forward, all while detaching the special package from his backpack,

“Hello? Anyone here?” He questioned loudly before he stepped right before the access terminal, placing his other hand out to utilize it, waiting a total of three minutes before he received a response back,

"Hello?" greeted a woman’s voice, sounding huffy and breathy, having just run through her little underground home to greet him.

Before him a holograph appeared, the moving image of the young, (h/c) haired woman greeting him,

“Did you say package?” She said with surprise, her brows raised high as her eyes seemed peeled wide, “For me?” She added with apparent curiosity, all while pointing a single index towards herself.

At the question, she watched as his gloved index finger trail beneath the letters of her name, sounding them out with a sure nod.

He wore a sweet smile as he addressed her, "(F/n) (L/n), That's you right?" He asked, his liquid blue eyes raised up to her, glued to her artificial image with unmistakable fascination.

Despite the knowing fact that she was simply just a hologram, the porter had trouble straying his eyes anywhere else. Selfishly, he swallowed her whole, not having a mind for anything else but the (e/c) eyed beauty manifested before him.

Oblivious, (f/n) remained calm, not having an idea as to how intensely the man eyed her, nor was she aware of the merriment that shone within his blue crystals as the white cap he wore obscured a good portion of his face.

She did, however, notice his growing smile, and catching onto the subtle curl of his lips she mirrored him, nodding.

Smiling gently in return she responded, “That's me,” she told him with a firm nod, " But I wasn't expecting anything," she said with a bit of confusion, still offering him the pleasant upturn nonetheless.

" Oh?" He said back to her, his eyes finding hers, staring right at her image with surprised, widened orbs. "That's pretty weird, cause the name here is yours," he said tapping the container, " This is also your location," he added as he placed the package down, a sure grin on his face as he waited for her to receive it.

‘You’ll just love it,’ He thought to himself, certain. ‘I just know it...Just like I know you…’

"Ok, let's see," He heard her mutter as she came down to it, inspecting it with the curiosity of a kitten.

She then opened it carefully, not sure what to expect at first.

It wasn’t like she didn’t trust the porter, she had no reason to, but still, she was somewhat skeptical.

‘I didn’t order anything,’ She told herself, ‘in fact, it’s rather strange he’s even made it all the way here,’ She mused, ‘Given the storm and all,’ she went on.

She had doubts, however, the moment her eyes landed on the contents within the secured case, her eyes grew wide, glimmering with absolute joy,

‘Could it be?’ She wondered, swallowing hard, her hand gently skimming over the surface of the hardcovered book.

Stunned, she stared down at the item with stillness before she gave an unexpected jump, a literal hop full of glee that surprised the man,

" I can't believe this!" She said with astonishment , pressing the small booklet close to her chest, twirling around happily. She held it with adoration as she beamed at the porter, unable to hide all the giddiness she felt,

"You have no idea what this means to me!" She said happily.

He watched her, his head slightly cocking to the side as he watched the woman gleam, a joy so sweet and pure worn out on display, that he felt it was a shame not many people could get a chance at such a lovely sight.

He'd never felt his chest hurt so much, and with such sweetness nonetheless,

‘It’s only when I think about you,’ He thought with a shake to his head. 'That's the only time this happens,' He added, wanting to press her hand to his chest so she could feel the heavy bouncing for herself, just so she’d understand how intensely he felt for her.

(e/c) colored eyes seemed so warm and sweet, being windows to a heart he wanted to hold and claim, one that he was certain was deserving of everything lovely the world had left to give,

‘Sweetheart,’ he mused, ‘I’d snatch up what’s left of the world just to give it to you... If it'd make you smile just like that, I wouldn't hesitate.' He silently assured her.

She was like an innocent, little butterfly walking right along his bloodied palm,

careless and free, small and beautiful…

Of course, the lovely, delicate creature didn't know the malicious danger she was in. She was unsuspecting as such, naively crawling over his mercy, trusting in his words and his convincing façade.

He knew who he was, what he was capable of, and with the same little perk to his mouth, he wondered what would take place,

Just how would their love take course?

Would he simply crush her? Unintentionally, would he end up destroying her just as he had a habit to do so to many other things in his life?

‘If you’d be mine, would I somehow ruin you? ’ He thought with a touch of sadness,

Would he adore her so much as to keep her in a glass jar? Far away from everyone else, safely hidden away until only he knew where she was being kept,

‘How long would I have to hide you?’ He wondered, knowing that somewhere along the line he’d be challenged,

‘Eventually, he’ll come looking for you,’ He thought with a little huff of amusement, one so small, the woman had ignored it, not paying it any mind.

‘I know I would. I’d go crazy trying to find you again,’

"Where did you even find this?" (f/n) asked, astonished. " I'd lost hope I'd ever see this again," she said, continuing to hug the small booklet, looking down at the porter with open ears.

“ I know we haven't met personally, but I come here frequently,” He informed her, not entirely lying because he did make frequent deliveries to her as a freelance porter.

However, as of late, he’d been busy with Amelie,

‘And her bullshit,’ He thought annoyed.

In fact, he made sure he was the only one that ever really got through,

‘I make an attempt at it,’ He thought with more annoyance, knowing that somehow, Sam bridges made it through to her,

‘Every...single...time.

Somehow Bridges gets a hold of you.’ He added with disdain.

“Anyways, I was just going along with my normal deliveries and I happened to come across it," he further explained, " I've also got some fuel here for you, seems like it's an old order you'd made a month back that just never made it's way here. I figured I'd drop it off to you, and maybe get the chance to finally greet you," He said with a small chuckle, causing her to release one of her own,

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" She said with true regret evident, even through her little giggle. " Even moreso, Thank you!" she added,

" It's taken too long for us to meet each other then, " She added while shaking her head.

"Entirely," He added softly, agreeing.

Carefully setting the book aside, she continued to happily chat with the man,

"From the bottom of my heart, I'd like to thank you for your service, " She said with gratitude, wishing she had something else to offer him other than a meager ‘thanks.’

"Oh no, no please!" He fretted, both hands set before him, "I don't do this to get praised, you're making me blush," he added, keeping the little grin she wore alive.

“Um, hey, If you don’t mind me asking,” he started, “ what is it? " He asked, sounding interested, speaking in regards to the booklet she'd earlier pressed against her bosom.

"What was in the package? It must have been something real important to you, given your reaction," he said with a hint of tease in his tone.

Glowing pink she bowed her head with embarrassment, thinking of how silly she seemed with her little squealing and twirling,

"I'm sorry you had to see that," She muttered with embarrassment, hiding her face within her hands.

'Are you kidding me?' He thought to himself, 'Baby, you're killing me... being so damn cute with me...'

"If it makes you feel better, it made my day," he said amused, causing her to release a little groan, "Nooo…"

"I'll remember this day for a long time," he added, causing her to throw her head back, "Stop it!" She whined, continuing to laugh.

It’d been the first time in weeks she’d laughed, so much so, she’d forgotten she even had the ability to do so.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," He told her, "but it is a nice pick me up," He added, not lying at all.

"Really?" she said with a placid, little pleasant smile taking over as she settled down from her little fit, "How?" She asked with a shake to her head, wondering how her strange outburst could have ever made anyone's day.

"Defiantly. Being stuck out there in this gloomy weather all day, you're smile feels like the sun," he beamed, causing her face to instantly burn as the words reached her.

"customers like you are the best," he added, loving how easy it was to cause her to fluster. "So I should be thanking you," He continued on, knowing just what he was doing, slipping in little teases masked by convincing innocence.

"Anyways, the book," he pointed out, making (f/n) snap out of her little daze,

" Oh," She said while calming, " This book...It's actually just a mess of things," she confessed, instantly smiling so hard her eyes were squeezed together.

"it's stupid...really," she muttered with the same cute upturn that had him swooning.

The booklet was full of pressed flowers and leaves, along with little pictures she'd taken, as well as a written page here and there that were coupled with meaningless, little doodles on every other page.

It wasn't much, probably worthless trash to others, but a treasure to her, holding memories and sweet moments, all the things she never wanted to forget.

"I guess you could say it's like an old diary of mine," she explained, not going into much more detail before their conversation was interrupted by a loud-sounding crash outside the enclosure.

It was then that a harsh banging sound spread across the field outside, traveling into her home in a violent boom, startling her. A sharp gasp left her as she looked up to her ceiling with a tremor raking her entire body.

Heavy rain continued to fall, all sounding stronger than it had a few minutes prior, and at the recognition of the large, vicious goblets attacking her structure, her gaiety ceased in its entirety, (dark/light) eyebrows creased up with worry as she cringed at the strong downpour that crashed over the roof of her little home.

She could hear it echoing even from her safe enclosure, knowing that just outside, it disintegrated everything it smothered.

'Again with this endless downpour ; Again with another storm, ' she thought with a mix of bitterness and sadness, because yet again she thought of the traveling porter whose name had become infamous now.

Connecting the world…

Bringing everyone together…

Through blood and sweat; Through harsh breaths and slim escape as well, he did it all.

'I hope you're not out there right now… stuck somewhere with those monsters,' she thought with a forelone expression placed over her. 'that merciless rain that takes everything it touches…the same one that won’t hesitate to take you as well,’ she added as she felt her heart race, anxiousness clawing at the walls within the muscle.

'Please...Please be safe,' She thought while a dark cloud loomed over her.

Meanwhile, the man outside watched, his eyes fixed on her saddened expression, his gaze softened as he looked on to what he considered to be a true gem, because even as she began to grow sullen, she was a charming sight,

'Downright breathtaking,’ he thought astounded.

If only he could run his fingers through those strands of (h/c), and not just that, but coo sweet words close to her ear to lure yet another smile from her.

He’d give anything for another one of those wide grins, much more to see the previously settled cute, little color find it's way onto her sweet face.

'Anything,' He thought while lovestruck. ‘ I’d give anything to do so,’ he added.

' But for now, I have to go. ' he thought with a pout, unloading the rest of the lost cargo he mentioned earlier, sending it through to her.

“Well I should be heading off,” he said with a small wave, causing her to stare wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open at his sudden leave.

'The damn storm is picking up,' She told herself, 'And he just up and leaves?!' she added worriedly.

“Hey! Wait Just a minute!” She cried out, her voice laced with alarm, “ Don't tell me you plan on going out there like that," she said with concern, her hand reaching out to him as a natural response despite the fact that they were in separate rooms, not anywhere near for her to grip him back.

He looked back at her with a half-smile, his blue eyes staring dead at her startled expression. Grimacing, he spoke, "I think I don't have a choice do I ? besides it's my job," he told her with dismissiveness towards his own well-being, something that astounded her.

"I had just planned to drop off your deliveries and be off, " He told her, " But I got so caught up talking to you, I lost track of time, " He explained, " I should have left a long time ago!" He said shaking his head, seeming disappointed with himself.

"Anyways, don't worry about me mam," he said pulling up a boyish grin while mock saluting her by using his pointer and middle finger, "You just stay safe," he added, not really wanting to leave, but of course not having any other choice.

It would have been easy for him to simply take her, singlehandedly destroying everything that got in his path from doing so, but he’d decided that with her, he wasn’t taking that risk.

'He's crazy,' (f/n) thought to herself, jumping at a particularly loud clap from outside her thick, protective walls.

She then better lip tightly,

Thinking...

Contemplating…

'What if something happens to him?

What if he gets caught up in that storm? ‘

And much worse,

‘ What if he never makes it back?' She wondered distressed,

'if any of that were to happen, I wouldn't ever be able to live it down,' she told herself.

He bothered to bring back some lost package, something she'd forgotten already, all because he thought it mattered, coming through what were probably the worst conditions to travel, and much more that that he’d been loyally delivering cargo to her for a long time now.

“ Hey…” she uttered softly, sounding small uncertain at first, swallowing the heavy clump in her throat.

“ You can stay here,” she told him, growing more confident, “ There's a vacant room here that you can use,” she added, nodding with more assurance as she saw him halt in his steps.

“ You can use it if you want or, at the very least stay until the rain stops.” she offered, “That's all I ask of you,” she added, hoping he’d accept. "As far as I know, there's nothing out there to hide under...no other shelters in sight either. " she reminded him.

He then turned back to her, a grateful smile adorning him being a mask to hide the snide that lay beneath.

“You’d do that just for me?” he asked her, eyeing the melting worry that was over her face. As he seemed to contemplate the suggestion, she relaxed her shoulders dropping and her (e/c) eyes brightening.

" Please? At least until this clears up," She said lowly, nodding.

“You’ve done enough for me already, believe or not,” she further explained, “ I haven't seen another person in what feels like forever. And I know traveling through this area has gotten very difficult. But you did so...All in order to hand me some lost cargo I had honestly given up on finding." She said astounded,

"Not only that, but you also brought me some essential supplies, " She added.

" You risked your life for me when you could have very well walked away at any given moment, especially when the first storm hit. " She rambled on,

" So please," she said again, clasping her hands together, "Please Stay. Take it as a token of my gratitude seeing as I have nothing more to offer you," She bargained.

‘Truly….Truly I am smitten,’ he thought to himself, all while nodding, pretending to be defeated by her plea.

"Just until then," he said quietly, "I wouldn't' want to impose,"

" But you're not!" She said hastily, "Believe me, you're not!" she said giggling, waving him off.

Eagerly nodding she went to open the door, “ Just come in," she responded back, all of which was a mistake of course, but how was she to know?

How could she have guessed that the man she invited in her home was none other than the same terrorist in the golden mask both feared and hated by mass populations ;

Higgs Monaghan.

She reached out for him, her hand circling around his wrist, tugging him inside, the sudden coldness of the outside world hitting her hard before she was back within the warm safety of her home with him following in suit.

"come on," she persuaded, anxiously as she heard just how vicious the wind blew.

Safely inside he watched her, eyes fixed on the back of her head, the (h/c) hair making his fingers twitch.

They were loose, the (long/short) strands bouncing with each step she took, teasing him with their bouncing movements,

'My dear...sweet... (f/n),' Higgs mused, head over heels for the woman, mad with desire,

'I can't wait to have you all...to...myself.'

Next : Open Heart

A/N: I fixed it. I hadn’t slept for a whole day when i completed this and I just knew I let a lot of stuff slip me. Have you ever been awake, but not awake? It’s an experience.

71 notes · View notes

destroy-the-cannon · 3 years

Text

IT’S HERE!

Hey everyone! It’s finally happening. The long awaited Olivia x MC fit is happening. I’ll leave the rest of my thoughts as the bottom as not to bore you, but I’ll put one tiny thing here: there’s actually no Olivia in this chapter. I know, I know! She’s the whole reason you’re here. But I had to do a chapter without her to set up for something you’ll see in a future chapter. I promise, it’ll prove worth your wait. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get to it!

Tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, queer romance, eventual lemon(s).

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, death, illness. Language.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Paige couldn’t remember a time in her life when she wasn’t working towards something. She busted her ass all through highschool, working her way into a scholarship at a decent university. From there, she had concocted a simple, five-step plan:

-Graduate with honors

-Get into a fantastic business school

-Get an amazing, ultra-high paying job

-Pay off debt

-Buy a good house for her parents, and live out the rest of her life comfortably.

But no. Nearly a month after she graduated from college, her dad got diagnosed. As he spent more and more time in the hospital, the bills rolled in. Charge upon charge upon charge, until Paige’s mother had spent up their retirement funds and was looking into getting a second job. So, naturally, Paige stepped up. She got a job working at a tiny bar downtown, and sent her every spare dime to her family, rooming with strangers, because all her friends still lived back home in California.

And then, just as Paige thought her existence couldn’t get any bleaker, it did.

She was sent one final charge, then never any again.

After that, she threw herself into working extra hours at the bar, no longer having the energy to look into jobs anywhere else. For two years, she worked and slept, worked and slept. The only person she ever really talked to was Daniel, a friend who was good for cracking jokes and aimless chatter, but not ideal as emotional support. So, completely on her own, she did her best to heal. She cried till she couldn’t, screamed, cried some more, and did anything she could to try and lessen the complete suffocation that was her grief. Each day, she did whatever she could to wake up feeling a bit lighter, until she felt almost nothing at all. It took two years, but she was finally starting to feel like a person again.

That’s when she met three of the five people who were going to change her life forever.

That day, it was just the men who happened to be in the restaurant. This did make sense, because it was a bachelor party, after all. Not that that was easy to tell, just looking at them. Their clothes ranged from a simple denim-and-white-jeans look to a three piece suit, leather shoes, and a pocket square. Honestly, who still wore pocket squares? Paige shuddered just looking at it. It seemed that she was dealing with a typical group of douchey, overgrown frat boys. It would suck while she was serving them, but usually at least one of them would remember to leave a decent tip. She sighed and strode over, pulling out her pad.

“Hi, what can I-” She broke off for a tiny moment before resuming. “What can I get for you today?” Trying to cover her tracks, she flashed a bright smile.

The reason she had broken off was sitting there, watching her. He wasn’t dressed particularly flashily, in his garnet sweater and khakis, but he had an air of quiet importance about him, something almost noble. His posture was perfect, his hair done with not a strand out of place, a neatly shaved face, a perfectly straight and clean collar. It was the little things about him, things that one didn’t typically find in a crappy downtown bar, that made Paige even warier. He grinned a small, curious grin at her. Before she could respond, the man in the suit began to speak.

“So firstly, I’d like to ask about your wine. I’m assuming there’s a separate list?” Mr. Denim and a (quite cute, actually) guy in a black button down traded amused glances over Sir Suit’s shoulder.

“Sorry, we don’t. We have a good selection of beer an-” He cut her off with a horrified look. She’d never seen such a prim rage before; she had to stop herself from snorting.

“There’s nothing else? I’ve never even heard of some of these labels before! I’d think I’d like to speak to your mana-”

“Tariq.”

The sweatered man, the quiet one, lay a hand on Mr. Suit’s shoulder. His voice was warm, strong, and seemed to contain just a hint of some foreign accent that Paige couldn’t place. He smiled apologetically at her.

“That’s completely fine. We’ll take a bottle of your finest whiskey, and four glasses.”

“Great. Will you be having anything to eat with that?” She was making some strangely intense eye contact with The Sweater (she’d have to try and catch his name) when Tariq cut in obliviously. She was really starting to hate this guy.

“Yes, we’ll each take a filet mignon, medium rare, prepared with a bearnaise sauce.”

Paige blinked. The man smiled blandly at her as though this was a perfectly normal request.

“Sir, the closest thing we have to a filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

Now it was Tariq’s turn to blanch in horror. “Burger?”

“Sounds great! We’ll take four.” Mr. Denim cut in, shooting a glare Tariq’s way.

“Right then. I’ll go put your order in, and I’ll be right back with that whiskey.”

She turned and made her way back to the kitchen, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to take over her face. Taking out Tariq, this seemed like a group of pretty decent guys. Usually, she expressed nothing more than a vague sort of interest in customers, a kind of unattached curiosity. But listening to them laughing and yelling, she couldn’t help but to want to pull up a chair and join them.

Sighing, she pulled out their glasses and whiskey. She was putting in their order when she felt eyes on her. Without moving, she peered out of the corner of her eye.

The three friends were talking, except for the quiet one. His eyes traced the curve of her neck, and her spine tingled with awareness of his every move. She arched her form just a bit, trying to be as subtle as she could, and his eyes slipped lower.

Just as she was about to turn, his friend elbowed him. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the quiet one smiled and turned his attention back to the group. She didn’t miss how his eyes fluttered back for just a half second, darkening, before he focused back in on the booth’s conversation.

She sighed, and grabbed the whiskey. Oh, well. This was going to be a boring night, but hopefully, in terms of tip, a fruitful one.

* * *

“Excuse me?”

Paige turned to find the sweatered man from before.

“I think we’re about to head out, and I didn’t want to do so without apologizing.”

The bar had emptied out completely, and the two were completely alone. Sweater’s friends were jostling around out front.

“Apologizing?” She frowned. “For what?”

“Well, I know we kept you late, and my friends can be pretty…” He paused. “Demanding.”

“Demanding, huh? Well, it was nothing I can’t handle. I’m used to it by now.”

“Well, be that as it may, I’d still like to apologize. We’re about to head out to a club right near here. Could I buy you a drink?”

“Which club are you going to?”

“Oh, well…” He winced. “We were actually hoping that you could help with that. We’re not from around here.”

“In that case, I know just where you should go.” She scanned him with a critical eye before making a decision. “You don’t seem like the kind of guy that would particularly enjoy some wild party spot. There’s a great little secret cove right near here you might like.”

He grinned in relief. “That sounds amazing. I’m getting just a bit tired of the traditional bachelor party antics. Why don’t you lead the way?”

“Sure, that sounds awesome! Let me just get out of this uniform, and we can get going.” She turned to go, then stopped short. “Before we go, can I get your name? I’m Paige.”

She turned to offer her hand, expecting a firm shake. To her surprise, he leaned down and actually kissed her knuckles. An honest to god bow-and-kiss. As soon as he’d done it, his eyes widened in embarrassment before shrinking into a wince. “Sorry, that’s an, ah, custom. Where I come from. It’s tradition. I just- just forgot you don’t do it here. I’m Liam.” He was clearly quite mortified, but Paige smiled. She thought it cute, and made her feel oddly regal. There was something so gentle in the gesture, it was almost reverent. Sweet. Grinning, Paige ducked back into the backroom, changing into an emerald-green dress she kept in her bag. She paused for a moment to check her reflection, fluffing out her hair and dress. Confident, she followed Liam into the night air.

As soon as she stepped out, the first thing she heard was: “Daaang! The waitress is hot!”, quickly followed by a more earnest: “That uniform didn’t do you justice.” Before she could respond, Liam stepped forward.

“Hey. Paige is a guest among us, and I doubt she appreciates you commenting on her appearance like that.”

If he didn’t before, he now had her full trust.

She was pretty used to receiving comments like that by now, and it didn’t particularly bother her. At least these guys didn’t seem to have any cruel intent. She got much worse in clubs or on the street. But it was rare to see another man stick up for her like that. Liam barely even knew her, and yet he was ready to call out his friends for her. Instantly, she found she liked him even more.

The guys stuck their head down and muttered apologies. They seemed sincere enough, and clearly eager to earn a fresh start, so Paige let it go.

“So, the waitress is coming with us?” Mr. Denim piped up, looking Paige over.

“Actually, we’re going with her. She’s picked out our next destination.”

“So she’s our tour guide now.” Denim raised his brow. He didn’t seem malicious, per se, just skeptical.

“Hey, Paige very graciously agreed to show us around, so play nice.” Liam turned to her. “Lead the way!”

“I’d love to, but can I get the rest of you guys’ names first? I can’t be referring to you three as ‘you there’ this whole night.”

“I’m Maxwell! Maxwell Beaumont.” Button Down grinned and shook her hand enthusiastically.

“I’m Drake Walker.” Denim stepped forward and also shook her hand, though much less enthusiastically.

“Great. And you’re Tariq, right?” She pointed at the third man, who was smiling at her in a way that did actually make her just a tad uncomfortable. He nodded, his smile growing.

“Awesome. Let’s get going!” She spun around, and they followed her into the night.

* * *

They emerged from a small swath of greenery into a beautiful little cove. The starlight shone on the ocean, and the whole place seemed mysterious and magical. Like anything could happen.

“We should build a bonfire!” Drake looked happier than he’d been all night.

“I am will not be engaging in manual labor.” Tariq looked like he was about to throw up.

“I forgot who I was talking to. What I meant was, I’m going to go build a bonfire.” He practically skipped off. Paige could’ve sworn she heard a giggle. The men turned to take in their surroundings.

“This place is awesome! Skinny dippiiiiiing!”

“Keep your pants on, Maxwell.”

Liam turned to Paige as the other two bickered. “Thank you for taking us here, Paige. I can tell the guys are enjoying themselves already.”

“Forget your friends. Do you like it here?”

“I love it.” He was completely sincere.

“This is my secret spot, so I’m really trusting you here.” She was teasing, but he looked her directly in the eye as he responded. “I will do everything I can to be worthy of that trust.”

There was a moment there, where he held her gaze. But he looked away and turned his eyes to the sky as he spoke.

“There’s only one problem. How am I supposed to buy you that drink now?” He’d made his tone light as meringue, but there was a tiny crease between his brows.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ll just keep owing me.”

“Seems fair enough to me.” They stood together for a second, until Drake called out.

“Guys! The fire’s ready!”

He beamed as he motioned for them to sit. His proud beam suddenly reminded Paige of a particularly peppy golden retriever. She stifled a giggle as she tucked her feet under her.

“Hey, can I ask you guys something?” She had grabbed one of the beers Drake had insisted they get from a convenience store on the way. She sipped from the bottle, trying to appear casual. Maxwell looked up from one of the pop-tarts he had picked up. “What’s up?”

“Well, what’s up with you guys? What’s your deal?”

As soon as she asked the question, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. The air grew thick with tension. The boys traded nervous glances, each one visibly uncomfortable. Finally, Liam spoke.

“Guys, it’s fine. She deserves to know.”

“Are you sure?” Drake’s puppy-like grin had vanished, replaced with a look of guarded skepticism.

“Positive.” Liam nodded, and they all turned to her.

“Okay. Paige, there’s something you should know about us.”

“Alright…” It suddenly occurred to her that she was on a remote island with four strange men who were now all staring at her, and why did she think this was a good idea? She tried to tamp down her growing panic.

“As you know, we’re not from here. But where we are from, specifically, is... Cordonia.”

“Okay. And this is a secret why, exactly?”

Liam shifted again. Clearly, there was more.

“Well, we’re not just tourists. I mean, we’re not really, ah, average citizens.”

Hm. Well, that wasn’t too surprising. Liam’s controlled manner, the way Maxwell kept looking over his shoulder, Tariq’s pocket square. But what, exactly, did this all mean? They were either spies, mega rich, or criminals. She waited for them to go on.

“What I mean by that is… well, we may have left some things out in our introduction. Drake really is Drake Walker, but the rest of us are different.”

Maxwell piped up. “I’m Sir Maxwell Percival Beaumont. Of Ramsford.”

“I am Lord Tariq Nadar, of Larada.” He bowed and leered at Paige in a way that caused her stomach to lurch suddenly.

“And I am Prince Liam Cicero Constantine Rhys, prince of Cordonia.”

Prince of Cordonia. The way he kissed her hand. The way the other men seemed so keenly aware of his every command. His cordial behavior. She had been flirting with a prince. An heir, she guessed.

But, if he was an heir, then that could mean-

Oh, God.

“Whose bachelor party is this?”

To her horror, Liam raised his hand tentatively.

“It’s mine.”

Shit! Ew, ew, ew. Her opinion of him dropped right down to the ground. Of course he was fucking engaged. He had been flirting with her, checking her out, and he was engaged! Fuck that, fuck him. She hadn’t even been that into him, so any disappointment she may have felt was swallowed by anger and disgust. She was almost ready to leave when he jumped in, probably sensing her rage.

“I’m not engaged. I mean, I will be, but I don’t actually have a fiancé yet.”

Oh. She lowered herself back onto the log, smoothing her pinched features.

“But wait. That doesn’t make any sense. Why have a bachelor party if you’re not even engaged yet?”

“That’s what you're concerned about? Not the nobility thing? I mean, I would- ow! Drake!” Drake elbowed Maxwell into silence before turning to Paige to explain.

“Liam’s at the age where it’s finally time to pick a future queen. The social season begins the day after tomorrow, and by the end of it, Liam’s gonna have a bride. They try to win the favor of the king and queen, catch Liam’s eye, demonstrate their queenly abilities through a series of competitions, blah blah blah. We’re throwing a bachelor party now because the next one’ll basically just be a press event with a bunch of nobles he barely knows.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to say. What the hell was she supposed to say? This was a huge bomb to just drop on her casually.

“I hope you don’t think we’re trying to fool you. If that is the case, it’s completely understandable-”

“I believe you.” Oddly enough, she knew they weren’t lying. Somehow, in her bones, she just knew. These were genuine nobles, ones she’d just happened to somehow convince to spend the night out together. Her, the broke, tired waitress. Intellectually, she knew this was an absolutely wild and preposterous thing she was doing, but emotionally, that just wouldn’t register. This felt right, like an evening out with three old friends and one Tariq.

But then again, this was different for them. They weren’t used to spending time with people like her. She was suddenly keenly aware of her own casual behavior, how she’d treated them like any old group of people. They weren’t. She started to gather up her things, fussing with her bag. She should leave them. Why would they want to spend time with someone like her?

“Does this mean I should have been curtseying? Bowing? Using your proper titles?”

“Well, personally, I wouldn’t have minded if you had-”

“Shut up, Tariq.” Maxwell twisted towards her. “This night has turned out to be awesome. You’ve turned out to be pretty awesome. And it doesn’t have to end! Let’s stay out! Just keep thinking of us as regular tourists. Don’t go.”

“I-” She stopped. “Okay. I’m staying.”

Her answer seemed to have surprised her as much as it did them. But she meant it, truly. She was having fun, and as weird as this night had turned out to be, she felt like she had made friends. Real friends, not work ones. This night would become a cool story she told at parties, and these people would become ones she’d wonder about and obsessively google for years to come, she was sure. So she didn’t leave. She sat with them, and it was one of the best nights she’d spent in a very long time.

* * *

“Paige! Wait up!” Paige turned to find Maxwell running after her. Her face split into a surprised grin. “Maxwell! What are you doing here?” He bounded up with a bright look about him. “I’m here for you! The plane leaves in like half an hour, and I wanted to catch you before we left.”

It was the morning after the bachelor party, and Paige was trudging to work. The sidewalk was choked with people rushing from place to place, and Maxwell was struggling to hold his ground.

“And why did you need to catch me, exactly?” Surely, from the beam on his face, he wasn’t just delivering a lost earring? Hope started to tickle at her insides, though what it was for, she had no idea.

“I wanted to make an offer. Obviously, it’s totally cool if you want to say no, and there’s no pressure or anything, but I had to ask.”

“Okay…” What was he doing?

“Come with us.” Her expression must’ve been absolutely shocked, and he hurried on upon seeing it.

“Liam looked really happy last night. Like, uncharacteristically happy and smiley. And you seem really cool, so I got to thinking. You could come with us. You’d be sponsored by House Beaumont, and you’d have a real shot at it! It wouldn’t be easy, since you’re not technically nobility, and House Beaumont is kind of-” he stopped himself. “Um, I mean, it would be hard. Is what I’m saying. But cool! Fun! Are you in?”

“Sorry, what is ‘it’, exactly?”

“Oh, yeah, shoot. Liam’s hand in marriage!”

Liam’s hand. In marriage. The sidewalk seemed to spin. She liked Liam just fine, but marriage? There was no way. She knew it, deep down in her soul. She wasn’t going to marry him, and she never would.

She glanced back over her shoulder, back at the bar. The whole place seemed grubby and hollow. Daniel was wiping away at the counter, a faraway expression on his face. He was dreaming of an out. They had dreamed of that out together, on mornings like this.

Paige pictured elegant palaces, glamorous parties, beautiful people. She imagined dancing the night away, drunk on champagne and laughter. She imagined stolen corridor kisses and secret rendezvous in lavish gardens.

She turned back to Maxwell.

“I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes. I’ve got some packing to do.”

Son that was the first chapter! It’s out a bit later than I’d like, but it’s out! Sorry again about the Olivia thing. I promise, she’ll be a key character in chapter two.

I’m really new to publishing my stuff, so if you have any tips or suggestions, please let me know!

#slow burn #enemies to lovers #olivia nevrakis #choices stories you play #the royal holiday #the royal romance #trr au #trr mc #trr #the royal heir #choices fanfiction #choices fandom

32 notes · View notes

risingsouls · 3 years

Text

Recruited: Chapter 16

[Probably a little boring this time around save for the TRAUMA but hey. One step at a time. I thought about making it longer and going a little further but this felt like a natural cut off until the next big thing.

Links for the rest! Desktop. Mobile.]

Nabooru

Four dragonballs. Four slaughters.

In no time at all, Frieza used the information passed along by the first elder to track down three more villages. Nabooru could do little more than watch and o as she was told as each one panned out the same as the first: Frieza demanded the dragonball, the Namekian elder refused, people died, they retrieved the dragonball. He rotated his generals out for what he called the honor of persuading the Namekians: Zarbon for the second, Nabooru for the third, and Dodoria once more for the fourth. The Gerudo, at least, tried to make the deaths wrought by her hands quick and clean.

At least if Frieza gathered most of the balls, it would leave less work for her and Vegeta. If she could figure out how to hinder them, get a chance to secure a single ball for herself and hide it, it would at least buy them time. The only reason they had little trouble for the moment was because they could use the scouters to seek out the villages. She considered breaking the scouters, but she couldn't get away with destroying those, either. Not without endangering her life and her people's.

Vegeta’s and Cui’s arrivals had been expected, the only surprise coming from it the spike in Vegeta’s power level that destroyed hers and Zarbon’s scouters and, to a lesser extent to her, his disposal of Cui within seconds. She did not share Zarbon’s or Dodoria’s concern over him surpassing them and in turn herself; she had come to terms with the fact that she may well die on Namek by Vegeta’s hands, anyway. Mercy and understanding had never been his style. Holding a grudge, no matter how petty or misplaced, was.

However, two scouts presumably perished while investigating another pair of power levels that appeared and disappeared shortly after the scouts stopped transmitting. While Nabooru doubted the Earthlings Nappa and Vegeta faced were the only ones in the universe that could fluctuate and suppress their power levels at will like that, the timing seemed a little uncanny. Had the Earthlings come along with Vegeta as the others suspected? Had they come on their own? Or were they an entirely different entity all together, threatening to complicate her plans further?

Their arrival at the fifth village differed in that it appeared deserted, but Nabooru sensed a few power levels in one of the houses. Scouts confirmed that only five remained in the village and forced them from their abode to stand before them: three elder adults and two children. Dodoria’s scouter picked up a pair of blips in the cliffs that disappeared immediately. While he and the others dismissed them for local fauna, Nabooru stared after them a few moments longer. Had Frieza not begun his spiel with the village elder, she considered asking permission to investigate for the sake of curiosity and to avoid murdering them for the ball.

Another refusal and Nabooru balled her hands into fists at her sides. As per the formula, Frieza ordered for a demonstration of their power of persuasion, though this time, he ordered Zarbon to take care of them. A kick for the first adult and a blast in return for the second adult’s attempt at retaliation, reducing him to ash.

Until Frieza threatened the children, hand rising in menacing threat, did the elder begin to cave, swearing to tell them anything they wanted to know. Her senses caught the flare of ki again from the same direction moments before Dodoria’s scouter, serving as a distraction from the task at hand. Then, a trio of readings from the opposite direction followed, these flying toward them at a rapid rate. Three Namekians landed before them, younger and apparently more physically fit than many of the others they encountered. Dodoria read their power levels off as 1000 apiece, but learning from her former cohorts’ adventures on Earth with the Namekian that resided there, she didn’t write them off so quickly.

The foot soldiers, bolstered by the low readings, charged the Namekians. These were unquestionably warriors, their power rising in the throes of combat. As such, the trio had no trouble dispatching the attacking squadron, soldier after soldier falling to their underestimated might. Nabooru inwardly cheered for their success, though she knew it was short lived. They didn't stand a chance against Zarbon or Dodoria if this was the height of their strength.

"Nabooru, why don't you take these three?" Frieza suggested. "You enjoy a good fight, yes? Use those ki swords I've heard so much about. I could use a good show."

Her gaze shifted to the trio of warriors. Warriors, a miniscule comfort in the face of more death on her hands. More lives taken for standing up for themselves. Is this how it would have been for her people if Frieza's soldiers never arrived and they chose to fight a war they could not win?

Nabooru bowed her head. "Gladly, Lord Frieza."

With a warning from their elder, the three warriors lunged at her the moment she stepped forward and faced them. She dodged aggressive and quick punches and kicks, the warrior in her yearning to fight them properly in a true spar under friendlier circumstances. Their skill shone and put her firmly on the defensive despite her own speed and strength. Their determination to defeat her was admirable but, as had the courage of the elders, it made her heart ache to know they fought a losing battle to the most vicious and merciless tyrant in the universe.

Nabooru caught the swing of one of their legs and swung him into the other two with enough force to send them sailing away from her and allowing her to regain the offensive. She kept hold of the first's leg and raised her hand. Orange ki shot from her palm and obliterated him. The other two regained their footing and charged once more. Fingers curled into her palms and orange light materialized into a pair of curved blades of energy. In two swift arcs, one vertical and the other horizontal, the swords sliced through the Namekians and halted their forward momentum. The blades sank back into her hands and, to spare herself, the elder, and the children the horrific sight of the warriors bleeding and falling to literal pieces, she cremated them with another blast.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked hard before returning to her post with the others. She avoided the gaze of the children and elder, knowing she would only find anger, terror, and hopelessness there. Only when the elder took to the air did she dare look at him directly. To see the beam headed straight for them. For Dodoria. His scouter exploded in a spread of shattered glass and plastic shrapnel. Several other beams followed, fired at rapid speed and resulting in miniature explosions. It took several seconds, but it finally dawned on her. The elder had done what she wished she could have to hinder their progress. He wasn't looking to kill with those shots. He was aiming for the scouters specifically.

She didn't have to look over at Freiza. She felt his irritation surge from him with the realization they lost their only way to track down the villages and their dragonballs. Brief but chilling. The elder returned to the ground in triumph. "Nabooru," Frieza said, nodding to the pair of children clinging to each other for dear life. For a moment, she saw not Namekian children, but two young Gerudo. "Punish him."

She didn't have to ask what he meant, how he meant her to do it. As she raised her hand, she willed the kids to run, fly away if they could. Anything to allow her the excuse of missing. Orange ki materialized in her palm and they did run, but their panic or lack of experience urged them in a straight line. She fired the blast, hitting the one dressed in yellow squarely in the back. Her hand fell limp at her side and she watched the other child shake the limp body. Tears streamed down his face.

The elder finally caved. He disappeared into one of the houses and returned with the dragonball. He handed it over to one of the remaining soldiers. "There. Take it." His gaze drifted between each of them, hatred burning hotter in his eyes as it rested on the Gerudo. "Take your leave now.."

"So bold thinking you can give me orders." Frieza chuckled. "Before we leave you to bury your dead, could you point us in the direction of the next village? You destroyed our scouters and only means for locating them."

The elder growled. "Never! I gave you what you came here for! I refuse to endanger my brothers!"

"Have it your way." He nodded to Dodoria. "Finish the job."

The general grinned maliciously. He shot behind the elder and gripped his head. With a sickening crack, he snapped the elder's neck, leaving only the second child alive. The last of his village, his family. Dodoria turned on him, and Nabooru could only imagine the torments the vicious warrior thought up for the kid. He loomed over the child, but another surge of energy from the cliffs caught her attention. A blur slammed into Dodoria and he crashed through the nearest house. A second kicked him back down and scooped up the child. She caught a glimpse of them before they took off: a young boy with dark hair and a bad haircut and a bald man in orange.

Dodoria pulled himself from the rubble, cursing loudly. "Dodoria!" His head snapped over to Frieza, the fear in his eyes palpable in the wake of Frieza's scolding. "Do you plan to let them make a fool of you and escape? Get your ass moving!"

Dodoria bumbled around an apology and took off after the interlopers. Several beats of intense silence passed before Zarbon broke it. "My lord, I need not point it out to you I'm sure, but without our scouters, we are blind and directionless. What do you suggest we do next?"

"We regroup at the ship." He clicked his tongue, and his hovercraft drifted higher into the air. "I suppose we'll have to do this the old fashioned way and send out scouts to search the planet for them. For the trouble, we will instruct them to ensure no Namekian survives."

Frieza wasted no time awaiting a response and took to the sky, heading back toward the ship. Nabooru and Zarbon followed suit, the former scooping up the abandoned dragonballs. She cast the focus of her senses in the direction the strangers and Dodoria had flown, finding that Dodoria had caught up to the pair and Namekian child. She then searched for Vegeta again, and sensed his energy darting toward another cluster of signatures. Another village. If he knew what they did, she had no doubt he would show as little mercy as Frieza in retrieving the ball, another village of innocents murdered.

Once they dealt with Frieza, she hoped to find a way to undo all this carnage. If she got the chance to.

#fic: recruited

2 notes · View notes

joy1579 · 4 years

Text

the RFA bois react to empath MC

so in this context im gonna say MC is an empath in that she can feel other peoples emotions. they feel separate from hers though as she’s had a lot of time to learn to compartmentalize her emotions separate from others. she can also promote emotions to other people but not force them. think of it like the difference between being near a small campfire and wrapped up in a blanket in you house. if your feeling sad she can help you feel a little better help you not slip too far into depression but she cant solve the problem. if your surrounds by cold sadness she can be a small campfire to warm up next to until you have enough strength to make it home. some people can tell the difference between her promoted feelings and their genuine ones but its difficult and often takes a lot of practice.

I might add jaehee and Saeran a bit later. if you guys want me to leave a comment. otherwise i’ll probably move on to my next project.

oh and master list

Jumin

Curious, defensive, once he accepts it he’s thankful that you can understand his feelings so easily

- He doesn’t believe you at first. At least he says he doesn’t but you can feel his curiosity

- You tell him to ask any questions he has and he does

- “Can you make people feel something?” Sorta but not really, I can promote or encourage feelings but not force them

- “Can you tell when people lie to you?” it depends on why their lying. I can fell maliciousness and that can tell me if their lying.

- “Have you ever used this power on me?” You can feel the anxiety behind that question. He doesn’t want his love for you to be something you created. You don’t have to be an empath or a mind reader to see that concern.

- I can’t turn off feeling other people’s emotions that’s how I knew how much you were hurting. “you know that’s not what I’m asking MC”

- You sigh defeated yes, but it isn’t what you think. I didn’t make you love me; I could never do that. there isn’t a point if those feeling aren’t genuine. I tried to calm you down, make you feel more safe and secure. You were so anxious I couldn’t stand to see you so hurting like that so I tried to encourage peace

- You could feel him processing that, you watched as his grim and serious face slowly melted into the gentle smile you loved you could feel his warm and soothing love

- can I show you something? I, I’ve never done this but I want to try to make you feel how I feel about you.so you can understand “you may”

- you instructed him to breathe deeply. The way he did when he meditated (a hobby he had begun after reading about it in a book about Romanian vampires)

- it’s easier if your empty and open. A blank slate to receive what I’m projecting are you ready?

- He nods and you start. You pour every ounce of energy you have into showing him how much you love him the warmth in your face when you catch his eye, the tingles in your fingertips when he kisses you, the giddy bubbliness in your heart when he makes those silly dry jokes of his and last the hunger in your blood when he smirks at you.

- When you stop sending him your feelings you can feel them mirrored back at you with their signature Jumin charm.

- His face may not burn but he’s never found it difficult to fight a smile before he met you, his fingers may not tingle but they twitch with the need to hold you, and he feels that same giddy bubbliness when you laugh at his jokes, last but certainly not least you feel the aching need for you when you glance at him slyly

- You laugh at the cosmic ridiculousness of it all, you two felt so similar yet so different two sides of the same coin.

- You wouldn’t have it any other way

Yoosung

Embarrassed, thinks you can mind read, tries to not think anything naughty thinks EVERYTHING naughty

- When you tell him he turns bright red and you almost choke on the embarrassment he’s feeling

- Why is he so embarrassed though? you don’t get it feelings aren’t embarrassing

- “so you um you know all my thoughts?” oh okay now you get it he doesn’t understand

- No I can’t read your thoughts I just feel your emotions, like if your happy I can feel your happiness or if your sad I can feel that sadness

- “so um can you feel if I feel um like nope never mind no its nothing I’m going to go study”

- Now you’re curious so while he’s studying your focused on him searching for something anything beyond the pure embarrassment he’s feeling

- Slowly you can feel a small piece of his emotion a wavering flickering determination to hide something

- You don’t approve of spying. But he was acting so strange you were worried. So you watched him for the rest of the evening as you scampered around doing everything in his power to stay busy and avoid you

- You can’t keep avoiding me forever Yoosung what are you so afraid ill feel that I haven’t felt already

- That’s when he locks eyes with you and you can feel his need ;) at the same time that his face flushes a near impossible shade of red

- “MC can you feel when I have naughty thoughts?” He blurts clearly a little panicked

- You can’t help but giggle because you can feel his nervousness under laden by the obvious thoughts he’s been trying not to think

- Only when you think about them really hard *you wiggle your eyebrows at him*

- And now you’ve broken him he’s a puddle of embarrassment on the floor you should probably stop teasing him now

- Yoosung listen if you’re worried about me thinking your weird, or not feeling the same way myself. You don’t need to. Honestly most of the time I feel how sincerely you love me, how much you enjoy being with me, how much you cherish me. Every now and then I feel you get a little needy and to be honest, I feel the exact same way. I love you of course I feel that way sometimes.

- Then his lips are on yours and your drowning in the intensity of his emotion

- How can such a cute and innocent looking boy feel so, hungry. You have to admit its intoxicating

- you hold him tight against you and try to make him feel your love the way you feel his love right now

- you don’t know if it comes through but you figure you probably have the rest of your life to keep trying.

- At least if the devotion and love you feel from him is really as strong as it feels

- You know better than anyone that feelings can change in the blink of an eye

- But you have no intention of letting this go

Saeyoung

skeptical at first, he jokes about conspiracies and magic because they seem so far fetched to me so you’ll have to prove yourself.

- when she tells him he doesn’t believe you

- “prove it what am feeling right now” he said teasingly

- Skeptical? You replied blandly it didn’t take an empath to figure that one out

- Saeyoung laughed at that and you couldn’t help the bloom off love in your heart

- “okay that wasn’t a good example” he joked “how about this what’s Saeran feeling”

- “emotionally exhausted, a little depressed, but mostly apathetically curious

- ... it’s the best he’s felt in a while to be honest but it’s getting better” you said solemnly

- You felt his heart sink the all too familiar weight of guilt he carried quickly pushed aside to focus on more pleasant things

- “that would have been a better example if I could fact check it but it seems right” he said with a glance to his brother lost at the computer in the corner of the room

- I can try to affect your mood would that prove it? You offered

- He brightened instantly at that “oh yeah! that’s a good idea bet you can’t scare me”

- “I can’t force emotions but I can promote them so let’s try it out. First it’s easier if you clear your mind and start with a blank slate” you instructed

- “my minds always a blank slate” he quipped giving you his signature goofy grin

- you couldn’t help but laugh for a moment and you felt his pride swell at your giggling

- after a moment you calm yourself down and begin to focus on proving your point

- suddenly he’s stiff and trembling in front of you

- “I don’t like that” he whispered stopping you immediately

- “I’m sorry did I push too hard” you fretted

- “I, don’t, I believe you just don’t do that again”

- “of course I’m sorry” you promised worriedly

- “I haven’t felt like that since, never mind I just don’t like it”

- “here let me try something else something better”

- This time you sent warmth, comfort and love. the feeling of stepping inside your warm home on a cold winter day. you can feel him beginning to relax into it and you hope this makes up for your earlier faux pas

- “I recognize that feeling you’ve done this for me before”

- you caught me I did this a lot when you were with me at Rikas place I didn’t like you feeling bad so I tried to help usually the calls helped with they didn’t I did this

- he pulls you into his arms and hugs you tight you can feel his adoration and gratefulness

- “you’ve been helping me since the beginning. thank you”

zen

instant belief (because he has psychic dreams after all) probably falls more in love with you because you can completely understand his feelings

- now he knows why you believed him about his psychic dreams so wholeheartedly with no hesitation

- no one had ever believed him so quickly and honestly it meant so much that you had trusted him

- then his eye’s glint and he asks if you can feel what characters are supposed to be feeling

- you almost laugh at that but he’s serious

- he thinks about how helpful that would be for his career, how easy it would make character analysis

- you almost wish you could when you see how passionate and ambitious he is

- but you shake your head and explain

- “I have to be with the person”

- He nods at that but you can feel his confusion grow mixed with curiosity so you continue

- “and if there’s multiple people I have to work harder to focus on just the person I want to read.”

- it’s in this moment that clarity dawns on Zen’s face you were so good at isolating people’s problems focusing on exactly who you needed to. the reason you were always so focused on him and his feelings was because you worked at it. You had practice.

- You could feel his admiration though you weren’t sure what thoughts a brought it you had started talking and now it felt like you couldn’t stop you had never told anyone about how your power felt and now it was pouring out of you

- “It’s like being in a crowded room and trying to isolate one person’s voice from all the others. it can be overwhelming because people don’t have inside emotions like they have inside voices. when something exciting happens in a movie, sometimes it feels like the whole theater is screaming.

- “that’s why you hadn’t heard of me before we met. You avoided the theater because it was to emotional?”

- “I couldn’t get into the story because the actors never felt genuine and I got a headache from all the people in the crowd it was easier to watch things at home where I couldn’t read people so easily”

- “but you come see my plays now?”

- You blushed at that averting your eyes “your acting is different. You actually feel the part. You make it easy for even me to believe you. if it’s you, I think it’s worth the headache from the crowd. If it’s you I think I understand how the crowd can get so worked up.”

- He lunged at you and in a flash your back was against the couch as he loomed over you hungry and full of adoration he leaned down to whisper in your ear

- “can you tell how I feel right now?”

- You shut your eyes tight and nodded face red with embarrassment.

- “then you must have some idea of how much I love you. still I’d like to prove it, if you’ll let me Jagi”

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #jumin #jumin han #jumin x mc #yoosung #yoosung kim #yoosung x mc #saeyoung #luciel #seven #707 #saeyoung x mc #zen #hyun ryu #zen x mc

94 notes · View notes

c-ptsdrecovery · 4 years

Link

“Did it ever get physical?”

This is often the first question we ask someone we know or suspect is in an unhealthy relationship. While starting a conversation around physical abuse is essential, the issue is when it’s the only question we ask.

Stopping short of inquiring about other forms of abuse implies that physical violence is the defining factor of an unhealthy relationship. Even worse, it conveys the message that whatever else might be going on is just “not that bad.”

This is a huge issue, because emotional abuse can absolutely be that bad.

Even if relationship never gets physically abusive, emotional abuse can escalate over time with devastating consequences, even death. And while emotional abuse does not always lead to physical abuse, physical abuse in relationships is nearly always preceded and accompanied by emotional abuse.[i]

Why don’t we hear more about emotional abuse? In addition to the common misconception that it’s just not that serious, many people simply aren’t sure what emotional abuse actually entails.

My aim here is to help you understand what emotional abuse really means and what makes it so dangerous so that you’re better equipped to start the conversation. Because if you want to stop it, you first have to know what you’re dealing with.

Defining Emotional Abuse

Understanding emotional abuse is complicated for many reasons. One reason is because there are several different names used interchangeably to refer to the same kind of abuse, including emotional abuse/violence, psychological abuse/violence, and mental abuse. For simplicity, we’ll use “emotional abuse” going forward.

Another complication is that there isn’t one accepted definition of emotional abuse. It seems that everyone has a slightly different version.

We’ve identified several common threads that make up the most widely accepted definitions and combined them here to create the following description of emotional abuse:

Emotional abuse is any abusive behavior that isn’t physical, which may include verbal aggression, intimidation, manipulation, and humiliation, which most often unfolds as a pattern of behavior over time that aims to diminish another person’s sense of identity, dignity and self worth, and which often results in anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Wow, that’s a lot.

Each part of the definition presents its own complications to fully grasping the reality of emotional abuse, so let’s dissect what this really means, piece by piece.

Breaking Down Emotional Abuse

1.“…any abusive behavior that isn’t physical…”

Pretty broad, right? Emotional abuse is difficult to comprehend because it encompasses so much. Just take a look at the non-exhaustive list[ii] below of behaviors that are potentially emotionally abusive:

Intimidation

Manipulation

Refusal to ever be pleased

Blaming

Shaming

Name-calling

Insults

Put-downs

Sarcasm

Infantilization

Silent treatment

Trivializing

Triangulation

Sabotage

Gaslighting

Scapegoating

Blame-shifting

Projection

Ranking and comparing

Arbitrary and unpredictable inconsistency

Threatening harm

Forced isolation

We specify “potentially” abusive behaviors because some of the behaviors on this list could occur in a healthy context as well. Let’s take sarcasm and infantilizing speech, for example. Many people consider sarcasm a key component of a good sense of humor. Many people would also agree that using infantilizing speech as terms of endearment is harmless, for example referring to a significant other as “baby.” However, in the context of emotional abuse where the intent is malicious, these behaviors can be extremely cutting, especially when disguised as affection or an innocent remark. For example, someone who repeatedly tells his or her significant other “My baby is so smart” in a way that’s meant to mock their partner’s intelligence using sarcasm as well as infantilizing speech to make them feel small is a form of emotional abuse.

2. “ …which may include verbal aggression, intimidation, manipulation, and humiliation”

The key word here is “may.” Not only is the list of emotional abuse tactics incredibly long and dependent on context, the particular combination of behaviors that show up, how they show up—whether overtly or covertly—and with what intensity can also vary greatly from relationship to relationship. As a result, we have another layer of complexity: emotional abuse doesn’t have one specific look.

For example, an emotionally abusive relationship where overt aggressing behaviors like yelling, threatening and blaming are predominantly used will look very different from a relationship where only very subtle forms of abuse like gaslighting, passive-aggressive put-downs, and minimizing are used.

3. “a pattern of behavior over time”

Emotional abuse is rarely a single event. Instead, it occurs over time as a pattern of behavior that’s “sustained” & “repetitive.”[iii] This particular characteristic of emotional abuse helps explain why it’s so complicated and so dangerous.

Even if you’re the most observant person in the world, emotional abuse can be so gradual that you don’t realize what’s happening until you’re deeply entangled in its web. As a result, the abuse can go unchecked as the relationship progresses, building for months, years, even decades, especially if the abuse is more covert. In such instances, the target’s self-esteem is steadily eroded and their self-doubt becomes so paralyzing that they often have only a vague sense that something (though unsure what) is wrong.

4. “aims to diminish another person’s sense of identity, dignity, and self-worth”

Regardless of how emotional abuse unfolds, experts agree that it has devastating effects on those who are subjected to it.[iv]

Unfortunately, these effects as well as each harmful act of abuse are largely invisible. This makes it difficult for most people to comprehend the very real risks and damage of emotional abuse.

Let’s demonstrate why. For a moment, try to imagine a scene of physical violence, a fight. Even if you’ve never witnessed or experienced it firsthand, your imagination can probably fill in the picture pretty well. The struggle. The adrenaline and fear. The aftermath of blood, bruises, tears. It’s a painful portrait but likely one that you can envision.

Now, try to picture a scene of emotional abuse, specifically someone whose self-identity has been annihilated. Can you see it?

Chances are your mind doesn’t know where to begin. But if you are able to create a picture of either the acts of abuse or what the damage looks like on the person who experienced it, can you put that image into words?

While describing physical wounds is pretty straightforward, it’s much harder to articulate emotional trauma. The parts of a person that sustained emotional abuse destroys—identity, dignity, and self-worth—are abstract, almost impossible to picture or measure.

5. “results in anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts or behaviors, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)”

Because emotional abuse is essentially invisible, singling out the abuse as the culprit of its destructive effects is another kind of challenge and frustration.

Even in cases of extreme emotional abuse, there are no bruises or gashes where the victim can point and say, “This cracked rib is from that constant belittling and invalidation” and “That swollen eye and broken lip are from the incessant name-calling and guilt-tripping and pathological lying.” Instead, what emotional abuse ends up looking like is a person suffering from painful yet not uncommon afflictions like anxiety or depression.

It can therefore be heartbreakingly easy for anyone—whether the person inflicting the emotional abuse, a third-party observer, or even the target of the abuse—to misattribute its damage to some other cause like unemployment or family stress or even blame the target’s prior mental state if he or she battled similar issues in the past.

Closing Thoughts

Hopefully this explanation of emotional abuse is as comprehensive as possible, but I recognize that it’s still bound to have gaps due to the complications I’ve just mentioned. Think of it more as a springboard for future conversations and exploration than an all-encompassing definition.

Emotional abuse, like any other form of cruelty, thrives in the darkness when no one understands, discusses, or recognizes it. Use your newfound knowledge and curiosity to shine the light on the risks and devastation of emotional abuse.

A great place to start is with asking the question, “How does that behavior or action make you feel?” or “Did it ever get emotionally abusive?”

#emotional abuse #abuse #mental abuse #verbal abuse #psychological abuse

179 notes · View notes

zalrb · 4 years

Note

How would you have written damons character as an antagonist, in a way that is believable for elena to fall for him? Or do you have any examples of shows that have done thaf dynamic well?

OK well first of all, the main thing, like I’ve always said, is that Damon can’t do what he did to her friends and family. It’s too much.

He rapes Caroline

He tries to kill her

twice

actually, no, three times

He tries to kill Bonnie

He’s responsible for Vicki

Turns out that he’s the one who killed and turned her birth mother and they’ve had sex

He kills Jeremy

Not to mention that he got Jenna stabbed

Like he causes too much carnage to Elena’s circle specifically that her falling for him in any capacity doesn’t make sense unless Elena is actually just a terrible friend and sister.

Eric doesn’t even do this much damage to Sookie’s circle, the most he does to her friends is chain Lafayette in his basement and then feed on him, which actually has context because Lafayette was selling vampire blood and that’s a grave offence among vampires.

So that’s the first thing that I’d have to change.

The second is that he has to have a story that is actually sympathetic and not just, I fell in love with a woman who told me specifically that she’s interested in me because I love her more than she loves me

because that’s stupid. I have so many different posts about this but in 1864, I would’ve made Damon a pillar of the community with a wife and kids because at that age he would’ve had a family and then Katherine comes and completely torpedoes his life, she promises him an eternity of them together and swears that her being with Stefan is just to use him, she actually seduces him and perhaps compels him and has him so wrapped up in her that he abandons his family and his wife finds out that Katherine’s a vampire and tries to out her but Katherine convinces him to put her in an asylum, like actually have Katherine be malicious in how she deals with him and have Damon do all this terrible shit, only for his father and the townspeople who he had once considered his community turn on him and kill him and he can’t see his kids again and he’s destroyed his wife’s life and he carries that guilt and that anger for over a century, just biding his time for the comet to get Katherine out because she promised him eternity only to find out that she wasn’t in the tomb, she knew where he was and she didn’t care, and she always loved Stefan and then just have him completely break. That kind of storyline doesn’t paint him in the best light but with the right acting and the right script and the right dialogue and the right chemistry, it makes him sympathetic and his hatred of Katherine and his hatred of the town is rooted in something real. So if Elena is going to feel any sense of sympathy toward him, with that kind of storyline I can understand it. And I could see her helping him realize that the people who live in the town now don’t deserve to die so when he has that whole “I came to this town wanting to destroy it but I found myself trying to save it”, it’s earned.

In terms of Elena “falling” for Damon, I have always said there are various ways this could’ve been done. Like actually make them a dark relationship:

If Elena becomes a vampire and that’s supposed to be a game-changer then she has to change internally. I would want Elena to feel constrained by Stefan and have a reason for it, like if Stefan is all about here is how you control your urges, here is how you appear as human as possible, then I would want Elena to realize that she’s actually curious about losing control, curious about the blood, curious about the freedom of vampirism and Damon gives her that.

The show thinks it did that but it didn’t because Stefan did everything right. He taught her how to hunt, how to defend herself, he stimulated her sexually, he took her to parties so she could learn how to socialize while being oversensitive, he provided opportunities like the motorcycle so she could relish the power of vampirism and he looked for the cure secretly, he consistently told her she would make it through this period, he even celebrates her being alive with champagne, like Stefan was actually perfect, the ONE thing he couldn’t do was teach her how to feed on humans, that isn’t enough of a chasm. And Elena constantly said how she didn’t want this life. If Elena didn’t actually say any of that and did things like, Maybe I should learn how to feed on humans and he shut her down, or if she compelled someone and he was like Elena, I know it’s tempting but you need to not do that and she just felt stifled then I could see why she would go to Damon.

Then when she’s with Damon, he encourages all of her worst impulses. She no longer looks at her friends as friends but as food and it’s not something that Damon helps her navigate because she’s a vampire and this is how vampires feel, they feed together, they drink like crazy together, they drive like maniacs together, she leaves school because fuck it, she has eternity, why does she need to be confined by human rules anymore

Another thing I said I would do is I could see the triangle being like Will/Elizabeth/Jack in PotC:

Elizabeth was attracted to Jack and I think that’s fair because he’s attractive and because he did everything she wanted in that he followed his impulses, he was outside the law, outside societal constructions, he did what he did because he wanted to do it and yet she knew he also had morality in him. So it was this tension of sexual curiosity and the belief that he could be redeemed. And Jack plays on her sexual curiosity, there is a ton of innuendo, a lot of flirting and when it really counts he proves her right in being a “good man” but that’s also directly related to Will, helping Will, saving Will, trusting Will and while Will believes she loves Jack for like half of POTC At World’s End, Jack and Elizabeth both know it’s always Will. There’s no question. And I think that could’ve been Delena. I think Elena could be curious about Damon and attracted to Damon and I think he could play on that because he’s Damon but when it comes down to it, for both of them, it’s about Stefan.

Jack works because he’s not bound by romance, his love is intangible, it’s the sea, it’s it’s the Black Pearl, it’s being a captain, it’s his crew, it’s the components that construct what freedom is to him and I would’ve given Damon something like that, unconcerned with earthly preoccupations like love particularly since he’s a vampire and immortal and I think that would’ve been very interesting with Elena being there as a sort of reminder that earthly preoccupations aren’t always a waste of time, like a good bond that’s in between friendship and romance but never crosses over to either. So I could see that happening.

I have also said that I could see Elena being attracted to the idea of Damon, the way the Delena fandom is attracted to and romanticizes the idea of Damon where, like, a part of her that she really hates --- and we see that she hates it --- we get a Buffy-esque breakdown like this

likes the fact that he’d let everyone die to save her, is flattered by the fact that when she says something to hurt him, he spirals out of control, misconstrues his toxic behaviour as intense love and finds herself curious about him because he comes on strong all the time, so she wonders if being with him would be passionate and consuming, have her romanticize the idea of a consuming relationship only for them to get together and realize how unbelievably awful it is to be in that relationship where every time they fight and he storms out, she calls her friends to make sure they’re safe and tell them to avoid Damon at all costs because he’s on edge, have her feel the guilt of knowing a fight between them caused an innocent to die etc.

71 notes · View notes

princessizumi · 4 years

Text

Prompt Fic

This was written for the prompts "Look at me okay, breathe" and "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere" that @unlimitedelations and @headcanonsandcupcakes requested. Thank you for the requests and please let me know what you think!

Izumi was eager to get back to the palace when her school let out. Her grandpa was visiting Caldera city and she was impatient to meet up with him. This morning over breakfast he had promised her that he would finally teach her the dragon’s breath technique, something she had been dying to learn for years.

The young princess nearly dragged her bodyguard the entire way back, urging him to pick up the pace. Once they arrived home, she unceremoniously dropped her things in her room and raced to the courtyard to meet her grandfather, only it was empty.

Disappointed that he had forgotten his promise, she set out to look for him in the large palace. Izumi asked the attendants if they knew where he was, but no one had seen him. She checked any and everywhere he could be. She looked in the dining room, his room, and even peeked into her father’s meeting to see if he was in there but she couldn’t find him.

The girl huffed as she sat down in the courtyard to practice her breathing like her father had taught her. Deep breath in, deep breath out. She tried clearing her mind but couldn’t help it, she was so looking forward to practicing with her grandpa.

“That is a good breathing technique you have there.” A voice interrupted. “As you know, the power of firebending comes from the breath.” Standing behind her was her Grandpa Iroh.

“I was trying to find you.” Izumi took another deep breath, “I looked everywhere.”

“Obviously you did not look everywhere my little Tea Leaf, because then you would have found me.” Iroh chuckled as he sat down in front of his granddaughter. “My apologies, I was busy and lost track of time.”

“Where were you?” Izumi pouted, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Iroh was quiet for moment before saying, “I was visiting an old friend.”

The girl scrunched her nose, “Who?”

Iroh considered his words before he spoke. The princess was 13 now, hardly a little girl anymore. As much as his nephew tried to shield her from the horrible parts of their family, Iroh didn’t see any good reason to lie to the girl. “Well, you don’t know him personally, but you do know about him. I was visiting my brother, Ozai.”

“Ozai?” She was taken aback, “But I thought he was in jail, why would you want to see him?”

Iroh stroked his beard. “Yes, he is in prison and for very good reasons. You can call me a sentimental old fool, but he’s my brother. There is no harm in sharing a cup of tea or playing a game of Pai Sho with him.”

Izumi pondered her grandfather’s words before asking “What’s he like? Is he nice to you?”

“I believe he looks forward to my visits. I’m think he gets lonely in there without anyone to see him so he’s a nice as he can be.” Iroh could see the girl turning that over in her head. “Now if I remember correctly you were very eager to learn the Dragon’s breath technique this morning, huh?”

Izumi forgot all about Ozai at the prospect of learning about the new technique. She spent the rest of the afternoon practicing her bending with her grandpa.

It wasn’t until much later when her, her father, and grandfather were eating dinner together and catching each other up on their days when Izumi remembered what her grandfather said earlier.

Izumi set her chopsticks down and announced, “I was thinking… I think I want to meet Ozai.”

Both men froze. There was a long moment of silence before Izumi said. “I’ve never met him before, and I think I should.” She looked between them, waiting for a response.

The old man looked to his nephew whose shocked expression hadn’t changed. He cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence that had come over the dinner table. “Well… I think that’s something for the Fire Lord to decide. Zuko?”

“Dad?” Izumi looked concerned at her father who hadn’t said a word.

Zuko broke out of his shock and addressed his daughter. “Let me think about it, ok, Turtleduck?” The topic was dropped for the remainder of their dinner.

“Absolutely not! I won’t allow it!” Zuko exclaimed as he paced back in forth in the sitting room while his Uncle drank tea on the couch.

Iroh sighed. He felt personally responsible for the princess’ interest in his brother. He was the one who brought up the former Fire Lord to her, thinking it would open up a line of communication between them. He thought she would ask him questions about the man, not want to outright meet him. And this whole ordeal was clearly causing his nephew a lot of stress.

“I don’t like this, Uncle. I don’t like this at all. Why on earth would she want to meet him?”

“The girl is curious, there is nothing wrong with that.”

“Nothing wrong? The thought of her even being in the same room as him is just- it makes me sick.” Zuko continued ranting. “I don’t want him even a hundred yards near her.”

“Zuko, you are overreacting. Nothing would happen if she were to see him.” Iroh took a sip of the hot tea. “The worst that could occur would be a few harsh words and we can easily put a stop to them.”

Zuko sat down with his head in his hands. “I can’t, Uncle. He’s so cruel and malicious and… she’s my baby. I won’t let her go through even an ounce of what he put me through.”

“And she won’t.” Iroh placed a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “You raised a strong young woman, she’s hardly a baby anymore.”

“I know but she’s still just a child. She’s so good and innocent.” His voice sounded desperate. The thought of Ozai hurting Izumi the way he used hurt him made Zuko’s blood run cold. “He can’t have her.”

“And he won’t. He cannot change your daughter’s good heart, just like he didn’t change yours.” Iroh handed the Fire Lord a fresh cup of tea, which he took, thanking his uncle.

Zuko glowered into the hot beverage. “He doesn’t deserve her.”

“Yes, you’re right. But he is not the one making demands. This is what Izumi has requested. So, you must decide if you want to be there for her or shut her out.”

Zuko stayed silent, staring into his reflection in the cup.

“You have to promise me that the second you feel uncomfortable you’ll let me know.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“And don’t be afraid, ok. I’ll be right there the whole time.”

“I know.” Izumi tried to swallow down her anxiety as they walked the path up towards the prison.

“And you don’t owe him anything. If he asks you something you don’t like, you don’t have to answer.”

“Ok.”

“And remember, he can’t hurt you.”

“I know.” She repeated.

Iroh smiled at the Fire Lord. “You worry too much my nephew. Your daughter is a strong little firecracker.” Iroh winked at Izumi and she felt her anxiety lessen.

The princess was flanked on each side by her father and grandfather as they made their way inside the prison. Zuko nodded at the guards as they stood at attention for him. They stopped in front of a metal door she assumed belonged to Ozai.

“Last chance. You sure you want to do this?” Iroh wasn’t sure if Zuko was asking his daughter or himself. Izumi nodded, the anticipation rising high in her stomach.

The cell was dark, the only strip of light illuminating the lone figure inside. The Fire Lord stepped in first and Izumi followed in behind him, practically hiding behind his larger frame.

“To what do I owe this pleasant visit?” His voice made it clear that the visit was anything but pleasant. Izumi peeked from behind her father to get a good look at the infamous Fire Lord Ozai she heard all about. He was old with long, graying hair and a shaggy appearance.

Zuko looked as if he wanted to speak but just stood with his fists at his side, frowning at his father.

“We brought some tea.” Iroh set down the tray, “And a new visitor.”

“Ah, so you finally decided to introduce me to my granddaughter, Zuko.” Ozai stood up, his eyes shining with interest.

“She already has a grandfather. She doesn’t need-” Zuko stopped himself from speaking. He promised himself he would try to make this as smooth as possible for his daughter’s sake.

Ozai ignored his son. “Come forward.” The way he said it made it seem like he was used to giving orders.

Izumi hesitated, unsure.

“It’s alright, Zooms. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Her dad whispered over his shoulder, his face a lot softer than it was a second ago.

The princess stepped forward and faced the man in the cell. “Hello.”

Ozai didn’t speak at first. He looked her over with an intense gaze for a long moment. She made eye contact with him for a second but quickly broke it. He looked so much like her father, but his expression was all wrong. Her father never looked at her like that.

“Yes, I have been waiting to meet you, Princess Izumi.” Her name rolled off his tongue, smooth as silk.

Izumi stayed silent, completely forgetting what she was planning on saying when she met Ozai. He was a very intimidating man. His voice, his posture, his demeanor. His eyes. Everything about him commanded submission.

“You remind me of my daughter. How is your fire bending? Not like your father’s I hope.” He said with a condescending smile.

“That’s not- I-” Izumi looked back at her father who was scowling. “It’s good.” She said.

“Good?” Ozai frowned, raising an eyebrow. He made her feel so small.

“Yes, good. Can’t you hear?” Zuko interjected, stepping up behind his daughter.

Ozai sneered. “That answers my question then, you’re nothing like my daughter.” He looked down at her disapprovingly.

Izumi regretted coming here. Looking at this man before her she can see that he had no remorse. For all the evil things that he’d done, and she’d heard of a lot, it was clear he didn’t regret a single one.

The girl watched as her grandpa served the tea. Ozai picked up his cup without even a glance to his brother, as if he were a lowly servant. She watched him take a sip of the tea that her grandfather carefully brewed back at the palace specifically for him. She watched him place his cup down with his right hand. The same hand that he used to burn her father’s face. She is the same age her father was when it happened. She wondered if Ozai could still firebend, would he try doing it to her too?

Izumi didn’t realize that she was being spoken to until she was outside of the prison cell, her father’s face in front of hers.

“Izumi, look at me, ok? Breathe.” He instructed holding her face in his hands. He took deep breaths and she followed along with him, until she felt calm enough to speak.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Please don’t apologize.” Her father hugged her, “Are you ok?”

She nodded. “Can we go please?”

“Of course.” Zuko kept his arm around her as he told his uncle they were leaving. Iroh stayed behind, saying he had a few words he wanted to share with his brother.

The duo walked in silence on the way back to the palace. Zuko looked down at her, trying to think of the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry. He’s not a nice person.” That was an understatement.

“I’m sorry Dad, for making you go all the way over there.” Izumi didn’t look up, clearly ashamed.

“Hey.” He stopped walking and turned her to face him. “None of this is your fault, ok. It’s his. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you.” Izumi’s lip quivered as she reached up to lightly touch his scar.

Zuko took a deep breath, blinking away tears. “I love you.” He hugged her tightly, pressing a kiss to the side of her face. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, Dad.” Izumi cried into his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other. When they finally broke apart Izumi looked up at her father.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being the best dad in the whole world.” She sniffled, smiling.

Zuko felt the swell of love in his chest grow a million times bigger, a large smile spreading on his face.

They never felt the need to think about Ozai again. He was insignificant.

#Zuko #Izumi #Iroh #Ozai #Fire Lord Zuko #Princess Izumi #Fic #Atla

44 notes · View notes

selenacosmic · 4 years

Text

Siren’s song

Gender: Romance, siren AU.

Suitor: Motonari.

The wind blow against the pirate’s hair as he walks around the beach. His ship anchored as his crew waited for their captain to return, for now he was looking for trouble, something to entertain him. Naturally, he would stop only for missionary work, negotiate on alleys the little treasures he had found (or stolen). It was his... “legal” way to get money, to sustent his crew and ship. But now he wanted to have some fun, a fight he could get to make his blood rush with excitement. Perhaps he would be lucky enough to encounter one of his deadliest enemy, or a lovely encounter with a lady. As he walk through the sand a voice is heard, he couldn’t hear it well, it was a bit far away. Curiosity took over Motonari as he followed the feminine voice, so sweet and melodic.

He was curious to know what a woman was doing alone on the beach, this place could be dangerous, such a naive person. He arrived at the tides who were filled with rocks, some were sharp and others not. So the lady decided to go to a place more dangerous, how interesting. The beautiful voice was more audible now, and his curiosity to know who is the strange girl only grow. Without any problem, he passed through the rocks with cautious steps, being careful not to slip into the ocean. Finally, he could see the owner of the voice, for the first time in his life, Motonari was surprised with the sight before him. A beautiful woman was sitting on a rock, her gracious body full of curves, her wet hair in one shoulder and her breasts covered by a gray “bra”. One of her hands was against her chest as she sang there, and the rest of her body? A beautiful blue tail, shining from being wet, his surprise was short though, he could only give a fearless smile. What an interesting discover. He made his way to you being careful so you wouldn’t notice him, and as soon as he reached behind you, his voice interrupted yours with that pirate accent.

“Looks like I found myself a little fish here.” He chuckled when you turned around with a scared face. He crouched until he was at your height. He needed to get a better look at you. “Interesting. Found a very pretty one as well.”

You remained silent, afraid this guy would do something to you. How could you be so careless? Letting a man hear you, singing so close to the beach, how were you suppose to escape now? You pressed the hand that was on your chest, thinking in a way to escape.

“It’s not yer lucky day, little lady. You were found by a pirate, a very dangerous one...” he caressed your cheek, making you whimper away from his touch. He could only chuckle to himself, you were quite the pretty little thing. Rose and glomming lips, soft and strangely warm skin, if he wasn’t good at resisting temptations, he could have kissed you right now. “Made quite the discover, how much would you cost, little lady?” You were very scared now, was he going to sell you? You tried to escape from his grip, but he was very strong. “Was only joking. Ya think I would just sell a big discover like you?”

Your breath was rapid, what was going to happen to you? Suddenly, the pirate got very close to you, inhaling against your hair. For some reason the warmth he provides you is very comfortable, his touch wasn’t innocent, but it wasn’t malicious either. It didn’t felt like he would attack you like a hungry wolf, you started to calm down. To him, you had a sweet scent, didn’t smelled like a fish, which was amusing. He moved away from you, smirking at you as he catch you in his arms. You yelped with the sudden movement that you gripped on him, putting your arms around his neck. He was smirking at you as you cling on him, too afraid to even think. With that, he walked away with his prize back to the ship.

◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸◹◸

When he was back, all of his crew were intrigued by what he discovered, no one believed what their eyes were seeing, but Motonari didn’t want anyone to see you, so he got inside his room, you were too scared to even look around you. Before he could say anything, your tail was gone, now you had legs. How...? He laid you down, looking intensely at your eyes, very cold eyes scanned your body. The rest of it was quite beautiful too. In modern days, you would be wearing a bikini, covering only your feminine parts. But this was the Sengoku era, to any men you would be close to wearing nothing.

“How?” It was the only thing he said, looking at you.

“Huh?” Your sweet voice was back, quite intoxicating. It was then that you realized what he meant. “I only have my tail on the water, when I am out of it I am free to walk...” your voice was weak because of your fear, receiving a amused smile from the pirate.

“Is that so...Guess I will have more fun with you being capable of walking.” He could see you get more scared because of the words he used, making his expression get more serious. “Hey, I’m not going to have fun with your body or anything. I might be dirty, but not that much. Now, if you feel like it...” this time you hit him in the arm, getting another chuckle. “Kidding!”

His men were calling for him outside, confused by the fact that he had brought a random woman to the ship, they were curious too because of...her beauty! Apparently they didn’t see her tail, but were shocked by her cute appearance. He gave you a final smile before heading out of the room, all you could do was explore the place.

From that day, the pirate had a pretty little siren on his hands, a treasure he wouldn’t trade for the world.

Fin?

Hey! Just wanted to say that I am going to do the other characters since all of them were chosen. The next one is Shingen!

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen motonari #ikemen sengoku motonari #AU

110 notes · View notes

targaryenimagines · 5 years

Text

Because, I Love You

Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,325

Summary: Everything you do was for her. Even if it meant that you could no longer be with her.

Warnings: Angst

The heat was sweltering in its intensity.

You could feel sweat starting to bead your brow. However, you did nothing to remove it. You were standing as still as you possibly could. Your only movement was that of your chest. You didn't dare make any other motion than that.

The area around you was filled with an oppressive silence. The type of silence that seemed to pound against your skull. It was like the moment right before glass hits the ground. You knew what was about to happen but you had no idea how bad the outcome would be.

You watch as Cersei stands above you. Her poison green eyes staring with nothing short of maliciousness. You had never met the woman in person, Daenerys hadn't allowed you to come to the Dragon Pit meeting. Despite your concern and overall outrage at her decision you hadn't argued with her. Not when she was so clearly worried about your safety.

"You are the purest thing in my life, my love. You are like the first ray of sunlight after a raging storm. You are everything that is good in this world, but that woman. That woman who claims herself as queen is toxic. She taints everything she touches, and I refuse to have that happen to you because I love you."

Now, standing in front of her, you understood what Daenerys meant. You could see the complete lack of empathy within her gaze. Normally you would associate it with a ruler looking at an invading army, but something wasn't right with the way she smirked. With the way she seemed to revel in the pain of others just to appease her own desires. Even before this moment, you know, that Cersei Lannister was cruel. She wasn't a ruler looking at an invading army. No, she was like wild fire waiting to erupt. To destroy everything, and everyone, in her path. For if she couldn't have the throne, no one could.

Out of your peripheral vision you can see Daenerys and Tyrion standing near one another. You know that Daenerys was letting Tyrion lead this interaction, but you weren't sure in the stability of the decision. You care for Tyrion, greatly, but you had seen how he reacted when around his family. No matter how much he may say he hates them, you know, he will never want to cause them harm. Which, in the grand scheme of things, when in the middle of war wasn't the best vendetta. Especially when said family was the prime enemy in said war.

You know that no matter what Tyrion will try to reason with Cersei. Something that would not end well when taking in account the things Cersei has done in the past.

You shift your attention back towards Cersei when she moves. You could never understand what drove this woman to do what she has done. Was it all purely for her self preservation? Or was it something more? No matter the reason you were mainly concerned about the end result of this meeting.

You were mainly concerned for Missandei.

For without Missandei you were afraid that Daenerys would break. Your dragon had already lost so much. Viserion, Jorah, Rhaegal and the majority of her army. You didn't want her to lose Missandei too. Nor did you want Grey Worm to lose his love.

The sound of the gate being opened drew your attention towards the man that steps out. Cersei's hand if you remember what Tyrion told you correctly. A weasel of a man really, as slimy as he was greasy.

You watch as Tyrion moves from Daenerys's side. His movements cautious as he approaches the man.

"My lord," Qyburn says with an oily smile. That Tyrion doesn't even bother to return. Instead he stands straighter his eyes flashing.

"Queen Daenerys demands Cersei's unconditional surrender and the immediate release of Missandei of Naath."

"Queen Cersei demands Daenerys's unconditional surrender. If she refuses, Missandei of Naath will die here and now."

At his words your heart drops.

No.

Not Missandei, not the sweetest woman that has ever lived. Who has never done anything malicious in her entire life. She didn't deserve this. You couldn't allow this to happen.

"Qyburn, you're a rational man," Tyrion says softly, trying desperately to appease to the man.

"Or so I flatter myself, my lord," he responds and you can't help the small shudder that works it's way down your spine. However, you understand what Tyrion is trying to do. Play to your opponents arrogance and they may very well hang themselves for you.

Tyrion steps, slightly, towards Qyburn his eyes showing the seriousness of the situation. "We have a chance here, perhaps our last chance, to avoid carnage."

You close your eyes briefly at Tyrion's words. You know that if it comes down to it Cersei will do anything to keep the throne. Bloodshed wouldn't matter to her. Why didn't Tyrion understand that?

"Yes," is the simple reply. A reply that causes your stomach to turn. How could someone be so cavalier about the prospect of unnecessary blood shed?

"Help me. I don't want to see this city burn. I don't want to hear the screams of children burning alive."

The thought causes a chill to run down your spine.

"No, it is not a pleasant sound," the weasel says, and you couldn't help the small frown that appears at his words. How the hell would he know? All the answers that filter through your mind at the question causes your heart to lurch.

Tyrion clearly perplexed by the answer begins to speak once again. "I-- I don't want to hear it. Help me save this city."

"My lord, I am only a mouthpiece for our queen," Qyburn says, his eyes twinkling vindictively.

"Your queen."

Qyburn's eyes narrow at that, but he speaks without anger within his tone. "Cersei is Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You are her subject."

You would rather die than be a subject underneath Cersei Lannister's rule. Something, you were sure, the majority of her subjects had lived up to.

Tyrion, however, doesn't back down. His voice coming out as sharp as valyrian steel. "Her reign is over. You understand this. Help her understand it."

Instead of backing down like you were assuming Tyrion had hoped for, Qyburn simply smirks. It seems his bravado completely stemmed from the fact that Cersei had allowed hundreds of innocent people to die for her while she stayed in King's Landing. A thought that causes your eyes to flash with anger.

"We understand nothing of the sort. Your queen's last dragon is vulnerable. Your armies are battle-weary and depleted, while ours have been reinforced with the Golden Compan--"

Tyrion seemingly tired of listening to Qyburn's obnoxious voice moves passed him. Something that causes not only you, but everyone to stiffen. Your eyes watched with anxiousness as Tyrion drew nearer to the wall. The Queen's Guard already prepared to strike him down if Cersei commanded it.

"Ready! Nock! Draw!"

As Tyrion draws closer to the wall your eyes land on Missandei. You can see the resignation already starting to form in her brown eyes. Eyes that are always so hopeful are now filled with nothing but sadness. You couldn't let Missandei's light be taken from this world.

You couldn't let Daenerys lose anyone else.

Your gaze lands on Qyburn and with a subtle motion you beckon him towards you. His eyes, filled with curiosity, stare into your own as he approaches. You see out of the corner of your eye that Daenerys was watching Tyrion with rapt attention. As was Grey Worm, so you could do what you're planning without any interruption.

Once Qyburn stops in front of you, you begin to speak lowly. "If you let Missandei go I will take her place. Have your queen kill me. Killing me would have a much more profound effect on Daenerys than Missandei."

The man simply stares at you with a quizzical gaze. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm her lover."

You watch as his eyes widen slightly before a twisted smirk makes its way onto his face. He turns his head slightly towards Cersei and seems to catch the woman's gaze with ease. You watch as green eyes meet yours and you simply stare into them. You know that you're staring at your own executioner, but you were never one to back down.

Before you can react Qyburn grabs your arm and starts to pull you towards the city gates. Something that draws everyone's attention towards you. You could hear Daenerys make a noise of outrage and sounds of the Unsullied shifting. You could, also, hear Drogon make a disgruntled noise. However, you do nothing to stop Qyburn from leading you to your certain death.

You watch as Tyrion turns towards you with horror written across his face. You can only muster a small smile but you know it doesn't reach your eyes. You try to convey to him without words what you were doing and why you were doing it.

You hadn't even realized you had slowed down until Qyburn pulls you forward sharply. Causing you to stumble and almost crash into the ground. You glare at the man but he simply smirks coldly at you.

Qyburn then turns to Cersei, who had been watching the scene with amusement, and speaks. "Your grace, it has come to my attention that there is another's death that can hurt the dragon queen. More so than the girl you have now."

Cersei raises an eyebrow. "I'm assuming it's the girl you have now. Tell me, why would I trade the two?"

"Because this girl is the foreign queen's lover," Qyburn says with malicious glee in his voice. It causes your stomach to churn at the sound of it.

"And how do you know this?"

"Because the girl told me."

You feel your breath catch at Qyburn's words. You know that your reaction was caught by Cersei. Her eyes taking on a sinister edge. You want nothing more than to go to Daenerys. To be in your dragons arms once again, but you wouldn't back down. Not when Missandei's life was on the line.

You watch, with bated breath, as Cersei deliberated her response. Soon her green eyes met yours once again, and you knew her answer.

"Very well. Let the other one go and bring the lover to me."

Relief rushes through your body as Missandei disappears from view. Only to reappear a few moments later with a few of the Queen's Guard. You catch Missandei's eyes as she passes you. You can tell that she wants to approach you, but a sharp tug of her chains keeps her from doing so. However, all you needed to see was in her eyes. You could see the gratefulness within her brown orbs, but you could also see her grief. Her pain at what was to come.

You just hoped that your own message was clear in your eyes. All you needed was her to take care of Daenerys once you were gone. As long as Daenerys survived you could die knowing the world was in good hands, and with Missandei alive you know that Daenerys won't be consumed by her grief.

You say nothing as your led towards the platform. The winding staircase that will lead you to your demise. The echoes of your footfalls and clinking of armor is all you hear. Each sound reverberating back towards you. A hollow echo. Seemingly showing you how alone you, truly, were.

You have to squint when you finally reach your destination. The sun seemed to be even brighter up here and you couldn't help but notice that you sweat seemed to still be lingering on your brow. Soon you're in the spot that Missandei had stood in only moments before. Staring down at all the people you have come to adore.

You see Missandei wrapped in Grey Worm's arms.

Tyrion is still relatively close to the wall but his stance has completely shifted. You can see the defeat written across his face.

Then, finally, you turn your gaze towards Daenerys. Her beautiful eyes were staring into your own. You could see the pain clearly shown in their violet depths. You could see her confusion at why you were doing this. You could see the tears that were already starting to form. Causing her eyes to shimmer like amethysts. You wanted nothing more than to be in her arms. To tuck your head underneath her chin with her singing a valyrian lullaby softly in your ear. You, however, know that you could never do that again. That you had sealed your fate the moment you saved Missandei.

You stiffen slightly when Cersei grips your forearm, and she simply smirks before saying. "If you have any last words, now is the time."

You turn your gaze backs towards Dany's and with a pounding heart you speak. Your voice echoing across the silent landscape. "Nyke'll sagon waiting ondoso īlva lemon guēse, ñuha zaldrīzes."

Your words were for Daenerys only and you refuse to let Cersei understand them. You square you shoulders when you hear the hiss of a blade being unsheathed. You stare out across the horizon and watch as the sunlight seems to cast a halo in the sky. Even though you were about to die you couldn't help but appreciate the beauty in the world around you.

Even as the sword moves down towards your neck in a deadly arch. You couldn't help but think back to all the things that led you to this moment. Every pit fall and triumph that led you right here.

You know that you wouldn't change a thing.

Even when you feel pain as the sword cuts your neck. You wouldn't change anything, you would always make the same choice over and over again.

For only one reason.

"Because, I love you."

#daenerys #daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader #game of thrones imagine #got imagine #because i love you

265 notes · View notes

dontenchantme · 4 years

Text

sanguine

Rated M, Asmo x MC, some Satan x MC - sexual scenes.

[vampire au] he had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen. sometimes they were a rosy orange, just like the sunset. at other times they were red. bright red, like the colour of blood.

fics masterlist

She was given two warnings to heed when she first started living in this mansion.

Number one – do not fall in love with any of the residents. She could do that. She wasn’t here to find love, after all. She just needed a roof over her head.

Then there was number two – do not get too close to the one named Asmodeus.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out why. Asmodeus was a charmer, playful and flirtatious, and she could never quite tell when he was being serious and when he was just complimenting her to be polite. Talking to him confused her sometimes.

She knocked on his door, and as she waited for him to respond, she tried to steel her nerves, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. It had been a few months since she started living here, and she ought to have gotten used to this by now.

But then Asmodeus opened the door, his eyes half-lidded and his light caramel hair artfully tousled, and she had to keep her gaze away from the bare skin he displayed so gratuitously, her face warming as she tried to remember what she was here for.

The laundry. Yes. “Today’s laundry day,” she reminded him. Asmodeus yawned and opened the door wider, revealing his torso – her gaze followed the long, lean lines of his narrow waist and she shook her head a little, thankful that Asmodeus seemed too tired to notice her embarrassment. She didn’t want him to start teasing her.

“Come in then,” he drawled, stepping aside so she could enter his room. The small woven basket in which he kept his used clothes was practically overflowing.

“How do you have so many shirts?” she grumbled, walking over to the basket – she was very much conscious of his gaze lingering on her, and the back of her neck prickled. “It’s ridiculous. Do they even all fit in your wardrobe?”

“Well, they do if you know how to pack them properly.” Asmodeus grinned. “I’m rather good at squeezing things into tight spaces…if I say so myself.”

His playful tone made her think of things that sent blood rushing up to her cheeks, and she had to hide her face as she picked up the basket, hoping he wouldn’t see how flustered she was. “You should put a shirt on, or you might catch a cold.”

“A cold?” There was amusement in his voice. “How sweet of you to worry about me, little lamb. But I’m hardier than I look.” She heard him yawn and she glanced up at him then, confident that her blush had receded by now.

“What time did you sleep?” She guessed he didn’t come back until the early hours of the morning. Asmodeus was hardly ever home at night – he’d rather head down to the pubs and get his dinner ‘straight from the source’, or so he called it.

She shuddered at the thought. Though she had grown used to living among them, that didn’t mean she ever forgot how dangerous these men were. A memory of the emergency rations they kept in the kitchen floated through her mind, clear crystal bottles filled with a rich, viscous red that was almost like red wine, but not quite.

“I don’t know. Is it important?” He shrugged, then gave her a wicked smile, the kind of smile that had other women fawning all over him whenever he went out in public. “Are you concerned about me, darling? Because nothing would please me more.”

“You think too highly of yourself, Asmodeus.” She made to leave his room, having retrieved what she came for, but then he moved, too quickly for the human eye to follow, and suddenly he was right in front of her, his hand reaching for her face.

She gasped, instinctively taking a step back, but then his fingers rested gently on her cheek and she stilled, abruptly forgetting how to breathe. Her entire body was tense. “You like to run away from me, don’t you?” he whispered, studying her – his eyes seemed to flicker between orange and crimson, and she was so mesmerised by them that she almost didn't realise he had asked her a question.

“Why would you think that?” The second warning floated through her mind and she flinched – Asmodeus, observant as always, narrowed his eyes and leant closer. She couldn’t help but think about how nice he smelled, even though he just woke up. A trace of cologne mixed with something sweet, something distinctly Asmodeus. Her eyelids fluttered as his thumb traced a slow, delicate circle over her cheek.

His bare skin was smooth and flawless and tantalisingly close. Her fingers twitched. “You don’t even look me in the eye sometimes, you know.” He was so near her that she could feel his breath ghosting over her ear, and she shuddered. Her hands were still clutching tightly onto the basket. “Are you frightened of me, little lamb?”

A little. But she was more intrigued than afraid. She just knew better than to let him get too close – she didn’t want to become another one of his conquests. And with that thought, she managed to snap herself out of her trance, ducking away from him as she shifted the basket to her side, putting some extra distance between them.

“I have chores to finish. We can talk another time, Asmodeus,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral. She expected him to tease her about her sudden reticence, and she was prepared to come up with some kind of rebuttal, but instead, he just sighed and stepped away from her, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Have a wonderful day, darling. Don’t let Barbatos wear you out too much.” For a moment she thought she saw his eyes darken, but then he smiled, and she figured she had to be imagining things. “He works you to the bone, doesn’t he?”

“He’s not that bad.” She laughed, relieved that he didn’t say anything to fluster her again. “I’ll see you at dinner. And please, stop throwing out so much laundry each week! Washing your clothes takes a lot of time, you know,” she scolded.

He had a penchant for silks and soft fabrics with the most delicate detailing and she always had to be careful with them, afraid that she would accidentally rip the fragile material. “I like it when you wash my clothes, though. My clothes always smell like you when you bring them back to me.” His lips curved into a smile.

She took back what she thought about him not flustering her. “Don’t try to use that as an excuse!” She narrowed her eyes at him, then turned away and strode out of his room, ignoring the peals of laughter that floated after her.

She busied herself with her chores for the rest of the day, finally able to take a break right before dinner – Barbatos said he’d prepare the meal for tonight, so she was in the common room now, watching Lucifer and Satan play chess.

It was always interesting to watch the two brothers play. Both were equally skilled, though they had differing strategies – Lucifer favoured waiting and watching, and he usually took on a more defensive style of playing, while Satan was undeniably aggressive, even when it was his turn to play black. She didn’t have a great head for chess, but she knew that it was far more likely for the black side to lose simply because they didn’t have the privilege of making the first move.

But she liked to watch Satan think of ways to overcome that disadvantage. Every time he played against Lucifer, he would choose the black side, and she wondered if it was because he enjoyed challenging himself, or if there was some deeper reason guiding his decision. “Checkmate,” Satan announced, moving his knight.

Lucifer sighed. “Very well. You win this round. Though I will win tomorrow.” He glanced at her. “What does this bring our score to?”

“Thirty-thirty-one,” she answered. Throughout their regular chess matches, she had somehow assumed the position of their scorekeeper, and that was a role she took seriously. “Satan is currently in the lead.”

Satan gave his older brother a triumphant grin. “See? I told you it’s better to play offensively. Taking a defensive approach only serves to extend your suffering.”

“You only won one game more than I did. And rest assured, tomorrow will mark the start of your losing streak,” Lucifer answered. “Anyway. This has been delightful, but I have to speak with Diavolo about something, so I’ll leave you two to clean up.”

“You’re always talking to Diavolo.” Satan tilted his head, and there was a strangely malicious look in his eyes. “One would think you two are more than just…friends.”

“I have no need to answer to your curiosity,” Lucifer replied. His red gaze was cool. “Besides, you have better things to amuse yourself with than my affairs, Satan.”

It was a subtle warning for the fourth-born to stop questioning; she half-expected him to ignore Lucifer, but instead, Satan glanced at her and shrugged. “Whatever you say,” he hummed, and with a quick word of farewell, Lucifer walked out of the common room. Satan sighed and relaxed into his chair, stretching gracefully – she couldn’t help but be reminded of a cat. “Why are you still standing around?”

She jumped. “Oh. Sorry.” She hesitated, unsure of what he wanted her to do.

He chuckled. “Don’t apologise. Talk to me for a while. I’ve some time until I have to go out.” His gaze lingered on her, and she swallowed as she settled on the seat Lucifer had vacated, suddenly aware of just how intense his green eyes were.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying to distract herself.

Satan exhaled. “Meeting Mammon. He said he needed a little help in town. Likely some scheme to trick yet another wealthy noblewoman into parting with her money, but anyone foolish enough to trust Mammon deserves what they get.”

Mammon. The second-oldest brother. She hardly ever saw him – he stayed out of the mansion most of the time, preferring to linger in the town’s illegal gambling dens, though he seemed friendly enough. “I didn’t know you two were close.”

“Close? Not really. But someone needs to keep an eye on him. We can’t have an angry mob running him out of town now, can we?” There was something charming about the roguish smile on his face. “Do you like to play chess?”

“I like watching you and Lucifer play. But I’m not fantastic at it,” she confessed. She knew the rules, and she had played a few games before with some of the residents, but she had never won. “You’d probably get bored if you play against me.”

“Hm. How bad could you possibly be?” He leant a little closer, and she felt trapped by those green eyes, unable to tear her gaze away from him. “I’m quite interested now. Why don’t we play one round? Whoever wins will get a favour from the loser.”

“That’s not fair. I’d lose for sure.” There was no chance at all that she’d come close to beating him in chess. She’d be surprised if the game lasted even ten minutes.

Something flickered in his eyes, an emotion she was unable to identify. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be accused of bullying a lady. How about this? You get two moves every turn while I get one. That should give you a distinct advantage, shouldn’t it?”

She hesitated. Even then, she wasn’t sure if she stood a fighting chance, but he was looking expectantly at her and she found it difficult to say no. What was the worst that could happen? At most he might ask her to bring dinner up to his room for a month or something. “Fine. If I beat you then you will owe me a favour, right?”

Satan nodded. “And vice-versa. But don’t worry, even if I win, I wouldn’t make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

He seemed trustworthy. She didn’t doubt his words, though it was somewhat discouraging to hear him talk as if he had already won. They began to play – he allowed her to make the first move, but even then, it wasn’t long before he turned the tables on her. It seemed like not even fifteen minutes had passed before he declared checkmate and she collapsed back into her chair, soundly defeated.

“I should have known better than to play against you, even with a handicap,” she huffed, eyeing Satan as he gave her a satisfied grin, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “That was outright bullying. Our skill levels are simply too different.”

“You agreed to the game with all its conditions.” His smile faded, being replaced by something more thoughtful. “And I already know what I’d like you to do.”

His favour. She wondered what he wanted from her. Satan didn’t say anything for a while, and as the silence stretched on, she began to feel uncomfortable, fidgeting a little in her seat. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Come here,” he invited.

She wasn’t sure what he had planned, but she approached him anyway. At first, she made sure there was a respectable distance between them, yet still, he beckoned her closer. When she was finally near enough, he grabbed her wrist and drew her to him, a little gasp of surprise escaping her mouth as she stumbled into his armchair.

He caught her before she fell onto his lap, one hand holding her up by the waist, his other still wrapped around her wrist. Her breath froze as she realised that she was right above him – his face was tilted upwards, his gaze fixed intently on her. “You’re so naïve sometimes,” he whispered, “but I think that’s what I find the most interesting about you. How you can continue to waltz around this place, completely unaware of how much danger you’re in.” His hand left her wrist, reaching up to her cheek.

His fingers lingered close to her, but he didn’t touch, and she tensed at just how close he was – her heart was hammering in her chest, and she found it difficult to focus on his words. “Diavolo promised that I’d be safe here,” she breathed.

“There’s only so much protection Diavolo can offer,” he replied. His fingers drifted down, hovering near her chin now. Still, he didn’t touch her. “The thing about our kind is that when we desire something, we become almost impossible to reason with.”

“And is there something you desire?” she asked – the words slipped out naturally, though her mind was racing, maybe from panic or nervousness or something else entirely. At her question, he tugged lightly on her waist and she fell forward onto him, settling comfortably on his lap. Her first instinct was to leap right off, but his grip on her tightened and she found she was unable to move.

“Of course. We all desire one thing above anything else.” He touched her chin then and she jerked, startled by how delicate his touch was – he tipped her head back, forcing her to bare her throat, and she stiffened, wondering if he was about to bite.

Should she scream? She wanted to – she had half a mind to. But he shushed her, almost as though he could read her mind. “Let’s not make too much noise now.” His voice was a murmur, alluring, enticing. “You owe me a favour, don’t you?”

“And this is what you want? My blood?” She had intended for her words to sound accusatory, but they lacked any real heat, and she saw his lips curve up – there was the barest hint of fang in that smile, and a shiver ran down her spine. “You said you wouldn’t ask for anything that made me feel uncomfortable!” she protested.

He nodded. “I did. But do you want me to stop?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely curious – she wanted to say yes, she wanted to tell him to stop and let her go right now, but when she opened her mouth to speak, her voice failed her.

He lowered his head and pressed his lips against the hollow of her throat, and she moaned, twitching when she felt the tips of his fangs press softly into her skin. “I’m not going to bite unless you say I can,” he told her. It was difficult not to reach up and run her fingers through his silky golden hair, to just let herself sink into the temptation he offered. It’ll feel good, his eyes seemed to tell her. There will be no pain. And she wanted to believe him.

His lips trailed down from her neck to her shoulder, one of his hands tugging at the collar of her shirt, exposing her skin to the cool air. She felt vulnerable like this, but there was no urge to push him away – her head lolled back, and she exhaled. “Why do you want my blood?” she asked, her voice the softest of murmurs.

“Do you know how sweet you smell?” Satan sounded almost plaintive. “All these times you lingered, watching me and Lucifer – it’s so difficult to concentrate when you’re standing there, looking so innocent…and so distracted.” His finger traced a line down her throat, and she had to bite her lip so that she wouldn’t cry out. “You’re a precious little lamb hiding in a den full of wolves. Shouldn’t you be more careful?”

Little lamb. The two words pierced right through her and suddenly she remembered a lazy smile and light orange eyes, eyes that sometimes looked almost the colour of blood – she nearly fell out of Satan’s lap in shock, thankfully catching her balance before she collapsed onto the floor. He stared at her, surprise in his green eyes, but she couldn’t focus on him now. The skin where his lips, his fangs had touched was burning hot, but she ran out of the common room, heading up the stairs.

She didn’t know why. She just had a sudden awful feeling, like something was sinking in the pit of her stomach. She went to Asmodeus’ room and tried the door, grateful when it opened without any difficulty. “Asmodeus?” she called.

The room was empty. She glanced around, wondering where he was – she was certain that he hadn’t left the mansion – but then suddenly the door shifted and she felt a lean arm wrap around her waist, keeping her still. Slender fingers touched her chin and tipped her head sideways. “Why are you here?” he breathed.

His voice was strained. She had never heard him sounding this way before. “I got the feeling that something was wrong,” she answered, and his grip on her tightened in response. “I thought I’d better come and check on you, just in case.”

“You have quite an uncanny sixth sense, don’t you, little lamb?” he rasped, and she felt his breath against her ear, making her shiver. “Did you know? Vampires are very possessive creatures. Territorial, even.” He paused. “You smell just like Satan.”

“Are you all right?” She tried to turn to look at him, but his grip on her was firm and she was practically immobile. Asmodeus didn’t say anything for a moment, though he leant back against his door, slowly closing it. It clicked shut with a solemn finality.

Maybe she ought to be more afraid. He wasn’t his usual self, and Asmodeus was, at the end of the day, a vampire – but she didn’t fear him. This mansion was the home of several dangerous men, but he had never once made her feel unsafe. Granted, his casual flirting and his teasing smiles confused her sometimes, but he had never tried to attack her, never once even hinted that he was interested in feeding on her.

“I’m not all right,” he finally said, his voice low. “I don’t like knowing that one of my brothers tried to bite you. I don’t like knowing just how ready you were to give in.”

“How did you know…?” Her head was pressed to his chest, and she could hear his heart. It was beating fast, so fast that she was a little concerned. This wasn’t normal.

“I needed some air. When I went down the stairs, I happened to hear everything that was going on in the common room. Neither of you was particularly subtle, you know.” His grip on her slackened, but she didn’t try to step away, uncertain about how he might respond. “Weren’t you about to let him sink his fangs into your pretty neck?”

“No, I wasn’t.” At least she didn’t think she would have. She slowly turned her head, looking up at him, and noticed with a jolt that his eyes were now a bright, vivid ruby, the same shade of red as Lucifer’s. “But would you have minded if I was?”

His eyes widened for a second, then he gave her that familiar breezy smile, laughing gently, letting go of her – she would have believed everything was fine if she didn’t notice his fingers clenched into fists at his sides. “No, I wouldn’t have. Feel free to offer your blood to anyone in this mansion, darling.” His smile was beginning to look forced. “Though I would tell you to be careful. I recall losing too much blood can be fatal for humans.”

“Do you want my blood then, Asmodeus?” He paused, glancing away from her, his eyelids lowering – his eyelashes were long and thick, and she was a little envious of just how pretty he was. “Because you’ve been behaving strangely ever since I came to your room. It’s almost as if you don’t like the thought of me being with Satan.”

Under normal circumstances, Asmodeus would have laughed it off and told her to have a good time. That was simply the kind of person he was. He glanced up at her then and she noticed that he looked almost upset. “Am I supposed to be happy for you?” he asked. “Do you want me to laugh and smile, and pretend that everything is fine? I can do that if you want me to. If that would make you more comfortable.”

She paused for a moment, just staring at him. Finally, she sighed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, a corner of her mind surprised at the way this conversation was going. He was the last person she thought she would ever have to press for an answer.

Asmodeus was so carefree and easy-going most of the time. Compared to the rest, he was practically an open book. Or so she thought. “Nothing,” he muttered. “I’m just…a little tired. You should go and enjoy yourself. Do something fun for once.”

Was he chasing her out? Something was definitely wrong. “No, I’m not leaving this spot until you tell me what’s going on,” she retorted. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was so insistent on being told the truth – all she knew was that Asmodeus wasn’t his usual self and she was concerned about him. He refused to look at her, his lips pressed stubbornly together, and she looked around, wondering how she could make him talk.

Her gaze landed on a letter opener he had left on his desk, and a sudden idea came to mind. She didn’t stop to think about whether it was a good idea or not – she just picked up the tool and studied its sharp edge. She could feel Asmodeus staring at her. She glanced at him, and he seemed transfixed by the tiny blade in her hand.

She drew a deep breath and raised the letter opener. His warning shout came too late, and she cut her open palm with the blade, the sudden pain making her gasp. The letter opener fell to the floor with a clatter, and she looked up from the wound – Asmodeus was still watching her, something almost like anguish in his eyes.

The cut wasn’t deep. But when she clenched her fingers, the thin line of crimson wept, bright red trickling down her wrist. “Asmodeus,” she said. “Look at me.”

For a moment she wondered if he even heard her, but then his gaze flicked up to her and she stretched her hand out, offering it to him. “You can drink if you want,” she told him, wondering if he’d take up her offer, wondering if he’d –

Asmodeus grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards him. But he didn’t do anything else, just staring at the bloodied hand in his grasp, his chest heaving. “What were you thinking, darling?” he asked, his voice husky. “You don’t tease a vampire like this. There are other ways to attract my attention. Safer ways.”

“I want you to bite me.” When she said those words, she realised that they were true – that no matter how good Satan made her feel, Asmodeus constantly lingered in the back of her mind, his smile and his silky hair and his uniquely sweet scent drawing her attention away. If she was going to be bitten by anyone, if she were to find out first-hand just how good a vampire’s bite was, then she wanted it to be him.

Infuriating, gorgeous Asmodeus who laughed with the careless abandon of a man who owned everything in the world. A man who knew just how handsome he was and who could choose to amuse himself with anyone he wanted. A man that most women could only dream of, who now stared at her with a look of indescribable hunger on his face. She wondered how long it had been since he last spent the night with someone.

“Are you sure, little lamb?” he whispered. “If you offer me something so precious, there’s no turning back. I’m not the kind who likes to share.”

She nodded. She didn’t just offer her blood to anyone, either. Her heart and her mind were ensnared by thoughts of this man – when was the last time a day went past without her thinking about Asmodeus? She couldn’t remember.

“How long has it been since you last drank?” she asked. His eyes darkened at the question; instead of answering, he raised her hand to his mouth, his lips pressing delicate kisses up her wrist to her palm. His tongue flicked out, running over the wound, and she gasped – it didn’t hurt, but that touch alone made her tremble. “Last night was the first night you stayed out in a while.”

She was surprised she could still talk normally. His nearness was making her mind fuzzy. “I didn’t go anywhere last night,” he mumbled, not meeting her gaze. “Just couldn’t sleep. I went out for a walk. Didn’t end up drinking from anyone.”

Before she could ask anything else, he bared his fangs and the next thing she knew they were piercing her skin, and a soft cry left her lips, the brief sting quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure that radiated from her hand to the rest of her body. “Asmodeus…” Did that breathy voice belong to her? She felt her knees give way, but his other arm caught her, preventing her from falling to the ground.

She never knew such euphoria was possible. She was floating, and her head felt ridiculously light. She couldn’t move any part of her body, and she didn’t want to either. He was slow and careful, not allowing a single drop of blood to hit the ground, and she whimpered when he sucked gently on the wound. He looked almost dazed, and she thought woozily about how beautiful he was, drinking from her like this. “Asmodeus,” she repeated, her voice weak, trying to reach for his face.

He released her hand, running his tongue once again over the cut, giving her palm a tender kiss. His eyes almost seemed to shimmer, and for a moment neither of them said a word – then he scooped her into his arms and deposited her on his bed, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “You should rest. You lost a fair bit of blood,” he told her.

“I want you.” She sounded stronger than she felt, and she saw his shoulders stiffen – he glanced at her, and she thought that this hesitance was very different from the Asmodeus she was used to. “I want you, Asmodeus. I’ve wanted you for a while.”

He sighed. “Darling…” But he didn’t resist when she feebly latched onto his collar, going along when she pulled him onto her. He held himself up, careful not to lie on her, and she tugged at his collar, frowning at him. “If I had known that biting you would make you behave like this, then I would have bitten you sooner.” He shook his head, though there was a small smirk on his face. “Aren’t you tired, my little lamb?”

“No.” She thought about the pleasure his bite had brought her and she shuddered, moaning again. “Come here.” She cupped his face and he laughed into her mouth when she pulled him down to kiss her. He lowered himself gently onto her, and she squirmed under his weight, enjoying the sensation of his body against hers.

“Are you only doing this because you want me to bite you again?” he whispered. “I have to admit that you’re confusing me. Just this morning you were running away from my room, and now you’re in my bed, you’ve given me your blood…have you been possessed by a demon, perhaps?” But she could see the hope that hid in his eyes, sense it in the way he pulled back, waiting for her to give him an answer.

“Do you love me?” she asked instead, and he flinched at the question – her hands reached up to run through his silky hair, and she felt him relax a little at her touch.

“Love is such a fickle thing,” he murmured. “I could tell you yes today, but would it still be the same tomorrow?” His gaze softened. “What I can tell you is that I want to protect you. I want to see you smile. I like how you blush and turn away whenever I tease you. I don’t know about love, but you’re undeniably precious to me.”

The look on his face made her chest ache. “Who hurt you, Asmodeus?” she asked, sliding a hand down the side of his face to rest on his cheek.

He chuckled. “No one you need to care about.” His eyes darkened and she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck when he kissed her again, this time a deeper, hungrier kiss – her body jerked when he ground his hips against her, and she pulled back, her cheeks flushed. “Yes. Keep looking at me like that,” he breathed, his gaze flitting all over her face. “I love seeing how flustered you get around me.”

He ground his hips against her again, slowly this time, and her legs instinctively fell open, cradling him between her thighs. He lowered his head, his mouth trailing soft kisses across her neck, and her eyelids fluttered as she whimpered, getting dizzy from his touch, from his intoxicating scent. He groaned. “The women who flock to me pale in comparison to you, sweetheart,” he whispered, his breath ghosting against her ear.

“You’re a known womaniser. I ought to be more careful,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders when he slipped a hand between her thighs, underneath her skirt. Her skin tingled wherever he touched. “Asmodeus…”

“It’s been more than a month since I last slept with anyone,” he confessed, the ring of reverence in his words. “I can’t think about other women. They’re mere distractions, while I’m nothing but a fool, yearning for someone who only ever spurns my advances.” But his fingers inched up her thigh and she certainly wasn’t resisting now, her head jerking back into his pillows when he finally stroked her through her underwear. She was already wet.

“You must be really thirsty…” She wasn’t so far gone that she failed to realise the implications of his words. Asmodeus didn’t take his meals with the rest of the residents. He complained that bottled blood tasted stale. And if he hadn’t been with anyone for a month – “How did you manage to survive without drinking for that long?”

“I did feed. Sometimes. I just didn’t bed them. They didn’t interest me.” He nipped at her neck and she yelped, feeling his teeth graze her skin. “Their blood tasted so bland. They were nothing like this. Nothing like you.”

His fingers worked their way beneath her panties, and she sighed when he spread her damp folds, his slender fingers sliding languidly against her wet sex. “But enough about me. Tonight, I’m going to make you feel so good, you won’t want to leave this bed,” he promised. When she looked into his gorgeous eyes, she couldn’t help but believe him.

#asmo obey me #asmodeus obey me #asmo x mc #asmodeus x mc #satan obey me #satan x mc #asmodeus #satan #obey me #obey me shall we date

3 notes · View notes