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anantaru · 1 year

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— rejecting his cuddles

including dan heng, jing yuan, gepard, blade x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, we‘re evil

— dan heng

"nope!"

you quickly place your hands on top of dan heng‘s chest to swiftly push him away— although tied with an eased and playful shove, your boyfriend was still left baffled and most of all, supremely confused out of his damned mind.

primarily— since when did you ever reject a comforting, cozy cuddle from your pretty man the moment he rushes straight home to come and see you, principally spoil you with all the bundled up physical affection he could possibly channel and provide?

one hundred percent, never. in point of fact was it you instead who would hug him first afresh.

"oh— i‘m sorry." dan heng backs away, as to not cross any boundaries with you. his voice shakes and creaks in the back of his toughened throat. it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he in fact, did not expect to have such a hard time being rejected by you.

"s-so.. uh, yeah."

dan heng corrects himself— or lets work something out to express it differently, at least tries to spell out a follow up sentence because you actually managed to make him speechless, at loss of words with nothing more than arbitrarily prattles bubbling past the tip of his tongue and leaving his lips.

there‘s a punch of cold silence, stolen by a deep sigh from your irritated lover— one might think that dan heng strongly thought about what he had done wrong or if he messed up in some way. yes, the possibility on you playing tricks on him was always there but this time you really put in all your acting skills into this one moment, carving it to almost perfection.

"can— can i ask why?" he nervously whispers, deciding that there, nothing was as gruelling as not receiving a hug from his significant other, "i don't know, can you?" which unbeknownst to him, was playing a devilish play with all expenses falling flat on top of his shoulders.

you smirk, your body moving on its own as you suddenly shelter his body into your frame, "surprise! it's a prank!" and nuzzle yourself into his chest, cheeks flushed on top.

granted, his facial expression was hilarious, but you could only go that far before the man would suffer from a heart attack.

"you're unbelievable." dan heng rolls his eyes while leaning his head into your neck, his nostrils slightly flaring at the pocketed entry of your signature scent welcoming him at last.

"you still love me though."

— jing yuan

to wholly fool someone, precisely form their running thoughts anew, was it wishful thinking or actually possible? what an absorbing charge to partake in, you figured.

but despite that, you were awfully aware that someone as hellishly meticulous and careful to their surroundings such as jing yuan was without question to be an utmost arduous task to accept— yet, who were you to give up so easily?

your heart had been softly pounding with a minuscule increased pace signalizing your nervousness the minute your boyfriend unlocked the door to your shared home. if you had been honest to yourself, the following sequences that would normally happen work as followed— if you didn't decide to be a little evil today, they never change, you greet the man in addition to embracing him in a warm hug, point blank, and jing yuan unreservedly savored such implementing like no other.

the man sought after a soothing embracement all day long, he thinks about it, and when closes his eyes he imagines it too. it's a crucial source of serotonin to him and he requires it each night before passing out into a deep slumber with you by his side.

"i'm home, my love."

your ears point at the all too recognizable voice dotting a comforting timbre into the living room as you silently moved up from your seat to walk towards jing yuan who had made it his own personal duty to part his arms the second he sees you saunter towards him.

"hello, love." you greet him with a smile, your voice had been soft and actually managed to fool him for the short duration of your prank.

but then, "oh, no thank you!" you skillfully dodge his attempt to wrap his arms around you, waving your hand in between the awkward space of your bodies, shaking your head.

"excuse.. excuse me?" that's a little less confident than how jing yuan would for the most part articulate himself— to underscore his brilliant irritation, he cocks up a brow in disbelief.

but he's cautious, your darling— so don't be fooled, the man had a sharp and blazing eye on remote sections that might go unnoticed to other people, to the innocent faces and crowds, it was jing yuan who was keeping the control interlaced in the palm of his hand.

"hmm?"

you play the guiltless, in the clear significant other a little too well and you applaud yourself for your very own performance— at this rate it makes you wonder if you should have actually pursued a career in acting after all.

while your boyfriend was now feeling a sense of dread in his joints and limbs, the color of his eyes had gotten hidden by a dusty darkness.

"ah, i understand." he smiles, but the way he approaches you was almost tactical, and that grin on his face— on the outside, modest and upright while on the inside, it concealed a bristling confidence that yes, figuring you out was easier than he thought.

"that's okay." jing yuan walks past you, slow, each step echoing and slipping past your ears, his hand too, was listlessly tapping your shoulder once twice, as he made you turn around to face him again.

"i do not need it anymore." huh, for him to not even utter a single complaint, something, anything would do, really.

your lips pucker into a pout when you realized it‘s over, when you noticed that your boyfriend was getting way better at this, as if he had you wholly figured out from the very start— did you never stand a chance to fool him to begin with?

"ugh." you cross your arms around your body, "you knew from the start, didn‘t you?"

"of course i did, love." he breathes his words featherlight, but his smile stays strong regardless.

"i always do."

— gepard

in the beginning of your comical scheme, gepard was convinced you didn‘t want to hug him because he had just returned from training the new recruits of the silvermane guards and fair enough— he didn‘t have the chance to take a shower prior to returning to you.

yet, keep in mind, in any other instances you did not care about said fact, more so was it you who‘d practically hug him for hours on end and pepper him with kisses all over. being the mighty captain of the silvermane guards of beleborg not unexpectedly came with a tightly shut package of both it‘s very own positives and jarring negatives.

while the positives would greatly outweigh the stormy negatives by a tenfold, having limited free time to spend on each other would sometimes be a strenuous obstacle you can only manage together, as a team.

"i can shower right away." gepard panics, he didn't think it was possible for his body to sweat even more than earlier when he fought against the new recruits and your poor boyfriend curses himself underneath the warm racks of his fastened breathing on why he didn't manage to be in the bestest shape for you tonight.

he adds on, "don‘t move, i‘ll be right back!"

the sides of your mouth twitch in an amusing snort and you carry on to gnaw down on your bottom lip to suppress yet another wave of laughter, "oh, i think you‘re misunderstanding me." and step back just a little bit more to accentuate your evil plan and push your boyfriend over the edge for good.

"i don‘t want to hug you tonight." you raise your brows while scratching the back of your neck.

this sentence alone was like a sharp stab into the blonde's heart as he sets his eyes to meet your own.

"like at all." and you finish him off with an indirect blow right against his handsome features, "at— at all?"

if you were aware of one thing, it was that gepard never wasted any time to talk things out with you— basically being transparent and working together, "okay, baby'" he pauses, "listen to me." and almost squeals in sadness, placing both hands on top of your shoulders.

"if you're still sad i had to cancel our dinner the other time, i can try to figure something out—"

how adorable, you realise.

pinching his cheeks with your fingers, you smile, a shadow of intense guilt poking on your heart, "i’m sorry!" you yell, "everything is fine, i‘m sorry." and abruptly lean into his warm body, arms crossed around his chest as you sensed the upping beat of his heart underneath his ribcage.

gepard couldn’t believe you this time, truly, and lets his eyes fall close before sighing out— in relief but also a slight bit of annoyance written across the rest of his heavenly features.

"i‘ll get back at you for this."

— blade

"hmm, you sure darling?" he acts innocent that's for certain but blade’s next look on you, fuck, if you didn‘t know any better you would've sternly stated that it entirely formed into a menacing demeanor— stone cold and fierce as you felt it wash over your trembling skin.

a followed sharp click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth is all it took for you to whole-heartedly regret and loathe even considering to work out a prank against your boyfriend, at all.

"yes, i pass."

notwithstanding, you couldn‘t back away now, quite obviously would it blow up in your face with you becoming the pranked one instead. at this graven point the entire situation had already been in great favor of blade instead of you— the most plausible solution would be to somehow make it out as a winner regardless while your lover thoroughly found delight in engaging in those games with you.

"what a shame." he sighs and tilts his head to the right— pending his eyes from your lips to your legs and up, then approaching you a step closer so your cheeks could immediately sense his warm breathing.

"and here i thought my significant other actually liked me." and slowly whispers his finishing line against the shell of your ear while idly leaving it to his gravelly voice to place a shivering thunder-like sensation on your skin, in this cold your body welcomed the flames of your flustering frame, the furnacing warmth and the fuel this man was capable to inflict on you was ridiculous, but so did you work wonders on his psyche.

you knew your boyfriend, entirely— his sweet perceptions, his personal views and his virtually scary attention to detail for bodily responses of his usual targets.

"ugh, cut the crap blade." you roll your eyes at him playfully, laughing out a frustrated heave with a deep scowl on your lips.

"me?" blade dramatically places his hand on top of his chest, his mesmerizing eyes growing at the size of saucers, what a pain in the neck, literally.

"yes you."

despite everything, you, with the kindness of your heart, attempted to silently move forward to cuddle him, practically leaving your failed prank in the past while blade, in his radiating confidence, was swift to dodge you.

"no thanks." blade says sternly, "i‘m rejecting this hug."

how unwelcomely, indecently, annoyingly typical for your boyfriend to turn this entire malfunctioning situation upside down and play it into his very own favor.

if only he wasn‘t so breathtakingly handsome when he greeted you and presented his confidence so tastefully, smiled so prettily at you too, his shining whites and canines poking from under his lips and greatly accentuating the rest of his bewitching features while his large hands slowly ran up and down your shaking arms.

"tsk." you avert your gaze, not being certain if you're more embarrassed that you lost or that he beat you so effortlessly too, "you‘re unbelievable blade."

okay, hold on— even though you started this game, now witnessing it in a different perspective on how it would‘ve played out the other way around was a little frustrating, to say the least— while you also made sure that you‘re calling yourself out for that sprinkle bit of hypocrisy climbing up on you.

"i‘m unbelievably funny." he drawls back at you with a wink and kisses your forehead playfully— then your nose, which he found adorable and lastly your cheeks before gently trapping your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger to make you look at him, "and i have to put you in your place sometimes, you know?"

as he at last, conveniently pulls you into a warm hug, both smiling and laughing into the comfort of the situation.

2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

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things-we-used-tc-share · 5 years

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Manifestor // 19

Plot: Set in a world where Witchcraft is real, and the government hunts down those who practice magic, Thomas must flee to an underground safehouse after being discovered. Now fighting a war against Witches who seek the end of non-magic people, Thomas must learn to control and harvest his powers, as well as the manifestation of his sides to bring about peace and unity in the Human and Witch world. (Nanowrimo 2018)

The next day, Jack and Thomas had to have a discussion about two things. Dan, Phil, Dodie, Atticus, and Lucia went to do some joint training together and left the two alone in Thomas’ room. The first question came straight out of Thomas’ mouth the moment the two were alone “Jack, what’s happening?” It is of course in reference to the lack of control the other was displaying in terms of the possession of his body. His job as the host was becoming impaired as the others were finding it easier to slip in and out of control. “You really don’t look well at all, you look exhausted, and pale and sick Jack,” There’s worry written in the color of his eyes and the lines of his face as his eyebrows draw together in confusion, in all honestly it sort of breaks Jack’s heart to see his friend so upset and worried about him.

“I don’t know,” He admits quietly, his arms fold across his chest and he can feel the pounding of his own heart as if it were trying to break from the confinements of his chest, his hands shake whilst he feels the turn of the blood in his veins. When did he start to feel so cold? He wonders absently, drawing his eyebrows together, his mouth suddenly feels so dry, when was the last time he had a drink of any kind? Had it been yesterday or the day before? The image of his own body drying up from the inside flashes across his mind and he inhales as sharp as the wind against tall cliff faces. “I think he’s making me ill,” Is what finally comes across his lips in a heavy observation of a terrifying conclusion “It’s like he’s trying to rewire my brain, make it hard for me to remember to look after myself, it’s making me ill,”

Thomas has a solemn expression on his face, like a widow at a funeral, his lips press into a firm line as he vividly sees his own friend’s body unraveling itself in front of him, with only decay left inside a weak and frail body. A shaky breath escapes him and he shakes his head firmly, banishing the thought and vision far away from the forefront of his panicked mind. “Let’s get you some food and drink, Jack, we’ll keep you afloat until you’re strong enough again,” Weakly, the pale man gives a gentle and thankful smile, before moving to pull the other into a hug. Even now Thomas can see evidence of the other slipping away as his grip is no longer firm and wrapped in the strength of love, but tired, weak, the shake of his trembling muscles can be felt straight through Thomas’ bones straight to his breaking heart.

He helps the Irish man to the main hall, where he sits him down and pours him a glass of orange juice that’s looking very lonely in an almost empty fridge. He scrambles to find some food, settling on a tin of beans and some toast which will generally be quite easy on Jack’s stomach. The seconds tick by as he waits for the toast to spring out, placing it on the plate before the timer on the microwave, which suddenly seemed agonizingly slow, pinged to let the other know it was ready to be taken out. He wraps the bowl in a towel and carries it with the toast on a plate with a fork resting precariously on top. “Here you go buddy,” In the light of the cavernous hall, Jack looked even paler and thinner and Thomas distantly wonders how he’d gotten to this point without any of them noticing. A terrible friend is an understatement to how he was currently feeling about himself, but this isn’t about him this is about making his friend stronger again so he’s not vulnerable to attack; from the inside of himself and outside factors.

As Thomas waits for Jack to eat, patiently watching as each shaky forkful of food makes its way to his mouth; he feels his heart sink ever so slightly. If Jack can’t get well, what would the consequences be? Would he even be himself, or would his sides constantly have to animate what essentially a dead man is walking? A shudder runs through his body and he has to swallow down his fear in order to give Jack an encouraging smile, nodding towards the food in a question that his lips are suddenly too shaky to formulate. Jack smiles and nods, his eyes look a little less tired and with each mouthful of food takes away a little more of his slouch and exhausted body stance; a sigh of relief passes Thomas’ lips as the other begins to get into the rhythm of eating his food, taking sips of his drink more and more. He was going to get better.

It’s as Jack finishes his food that the other start to pile in, wondering where the two of them were, Dan and Phil were jesting with each other, giving light shoves and encompassed in their own little world. Thomas admired the two of them; they were the closest friends that he’d ever seen in his life, almost like brothers. It’s not like he entertained the question of whether they were in a relationship or not, he hadn’t asked because it felt like prying, but every now and then the question crosses his mind.

Dodie was smiling at the two of them, with Lucia all but floating by her side with her fluid movements. This woman never seemed to falter, or trip, or stumble, another thing that Thomas greatly admired considering that he couldn’t walk in a straight line without tripping over thin air or his feet. Behind them all, looking quiet and reserved, and absolutely beautiful, is Atticus.

Thomas doesn’t think he’ll get used to the way this man scowls at everyone else, his dark eyes focused and quiet. His lips fixed firmly in a straight line until his teeth sink in gently to his lip. His arms were permanently fixed across his chest like it was a habit he has formed. With more time to actually take in the other’s appearance, he acknowledges that without his hair styled the messy cut of brown and violet falls distinctively into hazel eyes. The pale expanse of skin that dips up beyond the cut of his large black jumper almost reflects the light. He looks almost as pale as Jack currently does. Maybe it’s a UK thing.

“Anyone else want some breakfast?” Thomas asks as they approach in a group, Dodie sits next to Jack with a worried expression and presses a calming hand to his shoulder. The man smiles gently in thanks, continuing his new routine of eating food.

“Yes fucking please,” Dan groans and flops down in a chair, his brown curls tumbling over his forehead with the same exaggerated bounce as his current statement. “I couldn’t be more hungry if I tried,” Phil shakes his head next to him muttering something that sounds like ‘don’t swear’ and ‘drama queen’. Thomas, suddenly very aware of his friend’s safety and invested in their care, not wanting any of them to become like Jack, immediately sets off towards the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” Comes the soft and yet gravelly voice of Atticus, who hasn’t even sat down in the first place as his slender legs carry him towards Thomas. Thomas doesn’t want to say he’s blushing, and if anyone else says he’s blushing they’re a dirty liar (He’s definitely blushing that a handsome man is currently coming to his aid to prepare the impossible task of making food for a growing group of people).

He could say he’s especially taken to Atticus, not just because he’s very attractive although that definitely helps, but because of how he is. He’s quiet, thoughtful, snappy and yet extremely kind; he feels like a very real person, with a complex personality and every time he looks at Thomas the other man just wants to dive deeper and deeper into his eyes. They were very, very nice eyes.

Thomas loves Jack to bits, he’s become like a brother, a best friend and teacher in his life amidst a time where he needed all three of those things. Right now, he’s very scared for his friend’s safety and perhaps much like Jack came along in a time where he needed support, Atticus quite literally fell straight into his life when he needed some more. Now that’s not to say that Atticus has to follow some kind of destiny that the other man has set up in his mind, but much like Thomas, Atticus seemed to enjoy helping people (As proven now as they begin sorting out morning breakfast for everyone else).

And if Thomas could read the indigo haired man’s mind right now, he would know that the other man most definitely wanted to help. The two of them loved fixing people, perhaps much more than they enjoyed fixing themselves; and both Lucia and Atticus had fallen straight into some sort of broken, scared family and more than anything they wanted to fight to help people who, despite vanishing resources and a penchant for attracting danger, wanted to help them both.

As the plates of food started to pile up, they were carried out towards the others, Dan immediately dug into his food, throwing it down his gullet forkful after forkful until Phil had to physically tell him to slow down before he either choked or made himself sick. Atticus, for the first time since he’d got there, nursing his own portion of beans and toast, laughed. Thomas’ heart jumped. He felt his pulse heighten and he felt a smile grace his lips, he looked over at the other man, whose smile was trying to be pulled down away from his face and failing miserably. Phil chuckled in response whilst Dan pouted but slowed down his eating.

Lucia, who was looking at her friend with a warm and sisterly smile, squeezed his hand gently as if the sound of his laughter was a comfort to her. She whispers in his ear and the man with purple highlights looks down at his food with a gentle smile; Thomas thinks distantly that this is probably not the time for him to become distracted as he takes in the other man’s appearance, the diversion from his sullen expression, but if his life is short he may as well chase a fantasy.

See, Thomas had never truly had a relationship, he’d fallen in and out of affairs and people’s hearts, but he’d never stayed with anyone and never really thought he would. People like him, he thought, were not people who got to achieve the normality and comfort of a warm relationship, but until now he’d assumed he’d never meet someone else like him. His powers were not something he’d have to hide with another Witch.

The thoughts dissipate as fast as they come as people started to finish up their food. “I’ll do the dishes,” Dan offers, having not so far participated in the domestic tasks such as cleaning or cooking, everyone else worried he would not have the coordination or attention span for it, but no one else really wanted to do the dishes either.

“I’ll help,” Attached at the hip, it was becoming rarer and rarer to see Dan without Phil, and this is likely because if tragedy were to strike, the two of them would want more than anything to be together. Thomas first recalls the time he’d helped Dan and the sheer fear in his eyes and how it all seemed to disappear the moment that Phil, frantic and full of relief once he saw his friend, had appeared. The two of them were the only comfort they had in an otherwise uncaring world.

“I’m going to go to sleep,” Jack says gently, his eyes still very tired “I need to rest,” Thomas agrees with him, proud his friend was taking his own health and wellbeing into consideration. Jack stands, a little more firmly than he had before he’d started eating and disappears down the hallway, with the remaining four watching after him.

“I’m going to train Lucia today; she’s an Earth and water specialist so I think I can help her more with the Earth side of things if that’s okay Thomas?” Thomas falters for a second, knowing this would leave him alone with Atticus, which should not cause such unrest in him as it did. He nods with a small smile, looking at the other man, who nods also.

“Did you have a good rest?” Thomas asks as he stands up from the table, with the smaller man following behind him, he got a shrug in response, and upon close inspection noticed there were bags under his eyelids. “I’ll take that as a no then, you can go and sleep if you want too, you know, you don’t have to stay here with me,”

“It’s okay, I’m unlikely to sleep anyway,” The smallest smile graces his lips and Thomas nods in understanding, sleeping hadn’t been as easy as it should’ve been his first night here and that had been under much more comfortable circumstances. “So what’s your specialty?” the taller chuckled slightly in response, but there’s a tired look on his face as he launches into an explanation of something, he’d been asked many times before.

“All four elements are my specialty, and I’m also a Manifestor,” There’s a confused look on Atticus’ face, questioning him what that word means, it’s the first time he’d seen that expression and relief washes over him. When he’d previously said those words to other people, there was an overbearing amount of excitement and gushing that made his skin feel tight, itchy and uncomfortable. “A Manifestor is someone who can manifest different facets of their personality into real people, which means it gets a little tied up in my head because they’re always arguing, but I can also call on them for specific situations, I’ll show you,” They head up into the training rooms and Atticus stands calmly by the side, eyes full of curiosity. “Logan,”

Atticus jumps, it’s his first reaction as a second version of the man in front of him appears, hair neatly tidied back out of his face, with a shirt tucked into a pair of slacks and a tie fastened neatly around his neck. “This is my logical side, but his name is Logan, he does all the analytical things, contains all my knowledge and is imperative in my day to day decision making,” A smug smile tugs at Logan’s lips and he adjusts his glasses. “Roman,” Atticus’ eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline as another side pops into existence, with neatly styled hair and wearing what could only be described as a prince’s get up from a stage production, complete with a sword that is holstered In a belt. “This is my creativity, Roman, he’s the best to consult whilst fighting, because he understands battle quite well, he’s also my passion, which makes him useful for fire control, and he’s the romantic side,” The grin Roman gives has Thomas giving him a firm look.

“Patton,” There’s a look of wonder starting to form on the dark-eyed man’s face, taking in all this new information “This is my moral side, he’s a little…ditsy, let’s say, but he’s really my heart and helps me with moral decision making,” This man, wearing a blue polo shirt and jeans with a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders, beams at Atticus, waving with exaggerated happiness. “And lastly, Virgil,” There’s a moment where it takes the only other physically real human in the room to adjust to this last one who had none of the happy air that the other’s, for a moment Atticus may have seen himself in the last one “My Anxiety, my fight or flight reflexes, he gives me my drive during fighting and tells me when running away is a good idea,”

Atticus can’t help it, he steps closer to this one, who flinches and takes a step back, he can almost see the way the cogs turn in his head, through a mess of purple hair and heavily lined eyes, he could see himself. “Me too,” He mutters and the other’s eyes widened “It must be really hard to be you,” Virgil’s gaze softens and he looks down at his hands, fumbling with his own touch before he meets the man’s eyes “Sorry, if I’m making you anxious I just, understand,” Despite everything and the situation the anxious side had been thrown into, his shoulders relax and he smiles. “It can’t be easy to be you,”

Patton smiles over at the two of them, before meeting Thomas’ gaze, almost giggling at the lovesick smile on his face. Roman is bouncing on the balls of his feet, no one in the history of Thomas’ entire life has ever been able to make Virgil relax, except for Dodie and Thomas himself; but Dodie used her powers to relax Virgil. All Atticus had to do was talk. Thomas can feel their excitement through his mind, even Logan looked vaguely impressed and he was never impressed by anything except himself. And if he was impressed he certainly doesn’t say it or show it.

Thomas watches as the two interact, his heart flutters when Virgil finally replies “Yeah, it is,” It was nice to see Virgil comfortable and relaxing around someone else, comfort was not his strong point.

It clicks in his head, then, that he’d finally met someone who completely relaxes his Anxiety. Relief passes over his lips in a gentle sigh, hiding the small smile that graces his lips.

Ko-Fi

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