#yeah ill tag the individuals why not
t4tails · 2 days ago
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24 hour hog lockdown. happy birthday character of all time
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jaskiersbard · 2 months ago
Thoughts on Secrets of Dumbledore - SPOILERS
So basically I have a cold/sore throat from screaming at kids for four days straight so I’m not actually well and I was so close to not going on opening day in the UK today (well, technically it’s Saturday now so it’s yesterday but still) because I feel rotten. But I had to - as someone known for their Fantastic Beasts obsession, and having waited for nearly four years, I wasn’t about to miss out on this film on opening day.
There was a lot going on and I’m not well so I may have missed some things out or even missed bits in the film, so please bear with me, I’ve tried my best to remember as much as possible and I’m also happy to answer any DMs or asks if people have questions! Also, I’ve tried to keep it as in order as it happened as possible, but again, I’m ill and have probably gotten mixed up in places!
So, here’s my post about the film. There are SPOILERS below the cut so please don’t open the post and then send hate to me because I spoiled the film because not only is it marked and tagged, it’s also under a read more! You’ve been warned!
Firstly, let me take a moment to say FUCK JK ROWLING 🖕🏻 ANYWAY, moving on:
First of all, I liked SoD a LOT more than CoG. Like a LOT more. It felt more like the first film mixed with a bit of Harry Potter, and even used a LOT of the same soundtrack from the first film
This film was funny in place but also REALLY dark in others??? Like holy shit???
I’m not sure how long after CoG the film is set quite frankly but I’m pretty sure at one point they said that it was a month ago??? Or Lally said that a year ago was when Jacob met Newt??? But then Bunty says she’s been working for Newt for 8 years and however many days… I don’t know, I thought it was the 30s???
Also it’s Autism Acceptance Month and the fact we’re getting Newt Scamander being his beautiful autistic self this month just makes sense ♾
So the film starts with Dumbledore and Grindelwald having tea which is kind of nice
Sorry to the Depp fans out there but Mads Mikkelsen should have been cast as Grindelwald from the start… I agree what WB did was appalling, but I loved Mads as Grindelwald, which I honestly wasn’t expecting
“Because I was in love with you” - HE FUCKING SAID IT. The gasp that went out in the audience was so fucking funny, like how do y’all NOT know by now???
NEWT IS MY AUTISTIC HERO 😭 I adore him, I almost wish the films were solely about him searching for magical beasts frankly
Newt helping the mummy Qilin give birth was so Newt, I love him, he was putting his head on its side and comforting her, I adore him
Grindelwald’s followers got the first baby Qilin but then the mother had twins 😭❤️
Newt cradling a baby Qilin is not the content I was expecting but I’m grateful for it
The Newt scenes remain my favourite in this film, and maybe I’m biased because he’s autistic and I’m autistic, but yeah
Pickett with his mini glasses 😭❤️
Teddy being in charge in the case was adorable like omg
Wooo Wyvern!!! I love seeing more beasts!
So apparently Qilins bow to those who are pure of heart and can also see the future or something?
Grindelwald kept touching Credence/his face in a way that made me VERY uncomfortable
Queenie is now a platinum blonde????
Theseus remains my hot husband 🤧😮‍💨💛 fucking adore that man and would jump him without second thought
Theseus was hardcore judging Dumbledore for making that blood pact and I find that really funny??? He’s like “… why would you do that???”
I love love LOVE the Scamander brothers so much, I love their dynamic and them as individuals! The banter, the moments… love them!
I can relate to Theseus being the exasperated older sibling but also relate to Newt being the autistic one whose sibling is like “…????? The fuck???”
Queenie checking on Credence was nice, they have a couple of nice moments together, and I love that she told him that she doesn’t always tell Grindelwald what she hears Credence thinking
I don’t think I was supposed to be thinking “LESBIAN QUEENS” when Vinda and Queenie were in a shot together and yet that’s exactly where my brain went 😭
Jacob was still getting the biggest laughs out of the audience, I love him. He remains such a wonderful character even in the depth of a depression/funk
To be fair, there were quite a few laughs in the film and it wasn’t just me laughing, there were a lot of people of there and most of them were laughing
Noooo not Jacob’s bakery struggling because of the Great Depression (presumably)
I love love LOVE the Jacob and Lally dynamic so much, it was one of my favourite things in the film
Bunty is the fucking thirstiest most desperate bitch. I don’t like the actress and I don’t like the character and every time she appeared and made a joke I had to roll my eyes. Her character is STILL very much “I’m in love with my boss who doesn’t love me back” and not a lot else
Shout out to the reviewer who said she was “one note” and another who said she was a “JK R*wling lookalike” lmfao 🤣
I love that Newt and Lally are already friends who have corresponded, it’s so sweet
Newt introducing Lally to everyone and forgetting his own brother 😂
I’m not sure but… are the films gonna make Theseus and Lally a thing??? There was a little moment where they met each other/were introducing themselves directly to each other, then they got paired up in Bhutan… idk, maybe just me?
Also I think two of their names in the film are said to be “Alfie” and “Timothy”???
By the way, someone on Twitter that I was once friends with said a few weeks ago in the audio chat/space thing that Newt’s autism “disappeared” when he hugged Jacob (because that had been seen in trailers) and I would like to say NOPE. Not how it works, don’t care if it was a joke or if that person was autistic too, it made me super uncomfortable! And when I said that, she blocked me so… yep.
^Sorry but I don’t like jokes like that. Maybe I’m just sensitive but it made me, an autistic person who loves Newt and is so grateful for him being autistic, very upset and uncomfortable. Maybe some autistic people are fine with those jokes, and that’s fine! I’m just personally not, it makes me upset and makes me feel like they’re mocking Newt being autistic or saying he’s not really autistic so… sorry.
Knowing he’s autistic made me so happy and helped me accept the fact I was going for an autism diagnosis (and have since received the diagnosis that yes I’m autistic). Knowing this non-stereotypical character I loved and who’s played by one of my favourite actors is autistic helped me feel better during the process and made me feel like it would be okay, so yeah!
I love that Lally was praising the shit out of Tina and saying she was an incredible woman, we love to see it
Okay, on the topic of Tina… I wish there was more of her. I do. Writing that she’s too busy just seemed kind of lazy. She has like 2 minutes of screentime near the end of the film, first at MACUSA and then at the Jacob and Queenie wedding???
You can’t honestly and seriously tell me that Tina fuckin’ Goldstein would rather be head of the Aurors than try to help her sister or Credence???? Like yeah yeah yeah, she’s a career girl and all that, but also she was willing to lose her job and break the rules to save Credence before??? What the fuck???
Newt seemed super sad about Tina being busy and Lally jumping in to say how amazing she is… ??? I don’t know why but it felt like there was more to it than just her being busy??? Because I’m pretty sure there was a weird silence, and it sounded like they were trying to cover it up???
JACOB GOT A WAND 👏🏻🤧 it didn’t have a core but still?!? He deserves it
I love Teddy refusing to let go of Theseus’ red and golden tie 😂
NO BUT DID JACOB MAKE A WAND INNUENDO JOKE OR???? I couldn’t hear properly because my ears are blocked by my sister’s friend was sitting next to me and she started laughing??? Something about Theseus’ wand actually working???
I do appreciate Theseus just being the bemused and dry older brother, I know some of it is probably down to still being sad about his fiancée dying but still
There were quite a few mentions of Leta, by the way, which was interesting
I had some trouble hearing the dialogue at times, and I thought this might be just because I’ve got blocked ears from my cold - but then my sister and her friend (both of whom are not sick) also said that they struggled to hear it so… ???
Not Theseus getting himself fucking arrested 😭😭😭 my dumbass husband I love him
It’s the fact he got arrested going after the people he recognised from the rally where Leta was killed 😭
Newt was trying to go after Theseus as they dragged him away but was stopped because “not here, there’s nothing we can do”
Also Jacob starting to protest about Grindelwald’s name being cleared like “I WAS THERE, HE LITERALLY MURDERED PEOPLE” and the others having to shush him
I don’t think Newtina are together by this point but there’s no inclination they are or aren’t??? It’s like “where’s Tina” “she’s busy, she’s head of the Aurors” and then her conversation with newt is basically “did you do something with you hair?” “Just for the wedding” etc. There’s no kiss, no “she’s my girlfriend/fiancée/we’re together”, it’s very confusing for me
An instruction for Bunty’s eyes only… the fact she was given important jobs AND was the one to have the Qilin at the end… so cheesey. Sorry but I can’t stand her 😭 she’s the only character I dislike to this extent. JKR wanted her to be the main girl instead of Tina so bad and it failed
(I’m still at least somewhat convinced that Bunty got such a big role because Katherine called JKR out explicitly - more so than anyone else - for her bullshit, and it’s of course just a very interesting coincidence that Bunty - whose actress sucked up to JKR during one of the transphobic tirades - is suddenly given such a big part… 👀 … anyway)
Interesting to know that Wizarding world politics is just as corrupt and fucked as muggle politics
Dumbledore talking about what Ariana used to like and Aberforth like “I WAS there, you know”, such sibling behaviour
Aberforth calling the person at the door a sod and then apologizing because “sorry for calling you a sod, Minerva” 😂
The Albus and Credence fight was actually pretty cool, not gonna lie
I noticed in the scene with Grindelwald and Yusuf Kama, Leta’s theme could be heard in the soundtrack 🤧
Yusuf Kama being a triple agent was… interesting
Bunty continuing to be cringe by making jokes that it’s her husband’s case and he’s “so forgetful that sometimes he forgets he’s married to me”, followed by the most awkward 10-15 seconds of laughter I’ve ever had to sit and witness 🤦
I’m not saying she’s a pick me girl but she kind of is???
Nahhh but why were they suddenly swarming Grindelwald like he was a rockstar 😭😂
I do love Grindelwald just rocking up to this fancy ass dinner with his top buttons undone, bow tie undone, his followers flanking him
Vinda looked fine as fUCK in her suit, by the way 👌🏻 👀
Why the house elf conducting music??? 😭😭😭 stop putting house elf slavery in, I’m-
Jacob saying the Norwegian Minister of Magic looks like his uncle 😂
Not everyone thinking Jacob was attempting to assassinate Grindelwald 😭 he’s literally a muggle, how the fuck you think he gonna use a wand??? Use your brains???
Lally looked like a QUEEN in her dress by the way
I love Queenie low-key doing a little bit of magic to stop Jacob getting hurt even as she walked away with the rest of the acolytes
Newt snatching the photo of Tina away before the jail keeper at the Erkstag could take it 😭❤️
Not me crying at the jail keeper taking Pickett and Teddy away 😭 I was laughing at them both being in Newt’s coat and him being like “he’s a pet… he’s a pet too” but then crying two seconds later at them being taken and locked away
No but the laugh I let out at Newt doing the dance was literally inhuman, I canNOT-
Newt and Theseus doing the manticore dance was one of my favourite moments. In fact all of that sequence was amazing and I wish there were more sequences like that
“I am swivelling” “I don’t think you are” - GOLDEN
The big manticore was TERRIFYING by the way, it ate people and then spit them back out
Teddy and Pickett are not the duo I expected but they’re the duo we deserve and they stole the movie 😭❤️
I’m still crying with laughter thinking about Pickett falling with Newt’s wand and the Niffler jumping up, looking like he’s about to help Pickett… and then he soars past him to grab a shit ton of gold 😂👏🏻 beautiful scene right there, 11/10
The Erkstag place is actually terrifying as a whole because the prisoners are tied upside down and they have lanterns with these little firefly things next to them, and when the lanterns go out then the big manticore at the bottom eats them before spitting the remains back up for the baby ones to eat???
Newt and Theseus realising they’re still holding hands when they had Portkey-ed to safety and immediately letting each other’s hands go LMFAO JUST SIBLING THINGS
Jacob saying he got his wand for Christmas 😂
Not the Slytherins giving Jacob a bag of Cockroach Clusters 😭😂
Jacob calling Hogwarts students “pint sized wizards” LMFAO
Dumbledore giving points to a house that’s NOT Gryffindor?!? Unheard of! 🤣
I nearly died laughing at Aberforth giving them the worst looking food to eat and Theseus immediately tucking in like “after being in that dungeon, even this tastes good to me”
So Credence is in fact Aberforth’s son?!?! Jesus Christ??? I’m not sure how I feel about that like what the fuck (his mother was just “some girl from Godric’s Hollow”)
Also confirmation that Ariana was an Obscurial! I went “oh???” When that was revealed
This is probably just because I’m sick because I felt like this film was so long… not necessarily a bad thing but I’m not well so 😭
Grindelwald straight up nearly choking Credence for failing to realize there were TWO baby Qilins though
Theseus holding the baby Qilin 😭👌🏻❤️🤧 GOODBYE MY OVARIES I CANT-
There were 5 cases and they all chose a random one so no one knew which one was the real case and therefore none of Grindelwald’s side could know it either
So Grindelwald killed the first Qilin baby then resurrected it so that it would bow to him at the ceremony and put him in charge??? And Newt + the gang’s main plan is to get the alive Qilin to Bhutan so the election isn’t rigged???
I do love that they kept on reiterating how pure of heart and brave Jacob is 😭
Interesting that the decoy cases, from what I could tell, were filled with stuff seemingly related to the person who randomly picked it: Jacob’s had pastries, Lally’s had books, and Theseus’ had Quidditch stuff (perhaps hinting at him being a Quidditch player at school?)
Jacob and Queenie truly couldn’t have chosen a worse time or place to have their little romantic reunion 😭 like I’m happy for them but Jesus Christ it was so poorly timed???
They’re very sweet though, and him saying that his heart isn’t full because it’s always got room for her (or something to that effect) was so beautiful
Not that bitch (whose name I can’t remember, something Fisher?) taking the case Newt had and destroying it, and he thought it was his actual case I think??? 😭
I’m sorry, I can’t believe this is a whole ass film about a Wizarding Election?!? I don’t even like thinking about real politics, let alone fantasy politics
Also they went from talking about a democratic vote to deciding “hey, let’s let the magical creature bow and choose our leader” like, excuse me??? 😭
Not Grindelwald using Crucio on Jacob 😭
No but it’s the very first thing Grindelwald does upon getting elected, torturing Jacob, and people were STILL rooting for him, what the fuck-
Credence turning to the side of good seemed kind of out of left field, I won’t lie. Like I know Dumbledore said stuff to him after their fight and Grindelwald straight up choked him but also it just seemed a little… out of nowhere?
… of course Bunty was the one with the real case. Because of course she was 🙄
I wanted to cry at the alive-Qilin seeing her zombiefied-twin and trying to talk to her, and Newt telling her “she can’t hear you” and “maybe somewhere she can hear you” 😭
I do like that they showed the British MoM, the French one from the second film, MACUSA… it was a nice little callback if nothing else
Not the Qilin bowing to Dumbledore, meaning he’s pure of heart 🤨 but I did laugh when he was like “… oh no no no no no-” LMFAO
Grindelwald really fell backwards off the mountain and disappeared
Look I’ll admit it’s been a while since I watched the first two films but… sometimes during the film I was like “… what is happening”, and that’s how I felt about the blood pact breaking. Like sure “he shot to harm and I shot to protect” but…? What??? Maybe I’m just stupid 😭
I’m 90% sure Credence died off screen after Aberforth took him home. It’s made very clear he’s dying but they don’t show an actual death so who knows anymore???
No but I had to try very hard not to do some hand flapping at the sight of Newt stimming, it just makes me so happy 😭❤️
Bunty: *sees a photo of Tina in Newt’s case* // Me: LMFAO sucks to be you bitch
I hope she cries at the future newtina wedding 🙃
At least she seems to accept that Newt loves Tina I guess??? If I had to say one positive about her???
Jacob and Queenie have spent however long apart and suddenly they’re getting married??? Even though in the last one he made a big deal about it being against the law??? And it’s not like they’re in England by the way, they’re still in America and the law is still very much in place against No-Maj and magical mixing????
I love Queenie teasing Newt like “you’re nervous for another reason, aren’t you?” (Because he’s going to see Tina at the wedding)
Queenie’s dress and head piece was… a thing. She looked beautiful but it’s not something I’d personally wear myself
Newt being Jacob’s best man at the wedding and worrying over his best man speech was content I didn’t know I needed 😭 I kind of wish we could have heard the speech!
Tina is maid of honour 😭❤️
THE USE OF “Newt says goodbye to Tina” (aka THE Newtina theme), I was SOBBING
I’m still so bloody mad that Tina’s only scenes were 1) her just looking at the election broadcast at MACUSA (no lines) and 2) the wedding at the bakery. I mean yeah there’s the photo but still???
She looked fab as fuck, and I love her and Lally hugging but… yeah.
Small thing, my sister said Katherine looked extremely skinny in the film and I don’t know if that’s due to COVID or not, but… anyway.
Newt, Theseus and Jacob in their suits 👌🏻
I’m pretty sure Theseus made a comment to Newt before entering the bakery that just screamed: “… you’ve complimented how everyone looks BUT me” 😂 I can’t remember the exact comment but I’m pretty sure it happened
Cannot believe the approximately 15 people getting up and walking out before the credits even rolled 😤 like there were 30 seconds left and NOW you get up and leave?!?
Okay but who the fuck invited Bunty to the wedding when she barely fucking knows Jacob and Queenie??? And she turned up late???
The soundtrack had mostly pieces from the first film, a couple from the second, and then some Harry Potter soundtrack in there
My sister isn’t really a fan of the films but she has seen them and she didn’t like it 😭 she said it felt like it dragged and was super slow (and sometimes I admit that I felt that way a little bit too but whatever)
If nothing else, the film has made me want to jump back into writing newtina fics in a way that the first film did and the second film didn’t, so yay!!!
There’s a song (like a song with lyrics) that plays when Jacob is in the bakery thinking of Queenie and again at the wedding and then again over the end credits, and it’s called “Heaven” by Gregory Porter - it’s the official Jacob/Queenie song, let’s be honest!
So… to be honest, this felt very much like a final film. The blood pact thing is resolved, Credence knows who he is and is most likely dead (at the very least, he’s dying), Jacob and Queenie are married… I don’t know. It feels like it’s a final film but also enough there that there could be more films, if that makes sense. I feel like WB are planning to see what the box office/reception is before continuing forwards, to be honest, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
I really hope it’s not a final film because I would admittedly like to see more Tina, more Newt, more Newtina, and also that final duel between Grindelwald and Dumbledore. Despite how much I whine and complain, I’ll be very upset if this is where it comes to an end because this series does still mean a lot to me. It was definitely a HUGE improvement on the second film - in fact, this would probably be my favourite of the three if not for the severe lack of Tina.
I do want to watch it again, when I’m NOT sick and when I’m mentally ready again because mentally I’m all over the place at the moment, especially if this ends up being the last one. I wholeheartedly recommend the film though, I truly do, and I look forward to hearing what other fans say!
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satoji · a year ago
the price of obedience | z. naoya
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naoya zen'in x f!reader
word count: +3.6k
summary: you are an outsider to the clan, unaware of the dark rumours on the grapevine — until you unfortunately catch his eye.
tags & warnings: nsfw + master/servant relationship + misogyny + dubcon + slight degradation/humiliation + a sprinkle of exhibitionism + fingering (f!receiving) + mentions of death (of no major characters) + darkness towards the end + naoya zen'in and his bullshit
notes: if man bad then why hot? yeah... i don’t have any excuses...
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“This one.”
There is a hesitant silence, the aides tentatively wanting to make him reconsider his choice without offending him, in fear of retaliation.
The other servants – mostly women – are still; some relieved, others anticipating the development of the current situation. You ignore the pitying looks, eyes strained on the patterns of the wooden floor instead.
In retrospect, you should have cut ties with the clan the moment you began noticing the red flags; the hunched shoulders of the female servants, their exaggerated compliance, their silent downcast looks when on duty. But you were naïve, sure that you were special, free from misfortune befalling you – everyone grows with such optimism until they hit their bad luck and lament their choices.
What sets apart some individuals from others is the way which they face these moments and take them in stride, with enviable strength and conviction that it will all pass and make way for better days.
“She will do.”
There is no room for refusal or dissuasion. He is easily the next highest-ranking person under this roof after the head; the servants lining the hallway bow at their lowest before him.
“Yes, Naoya-sama.”
What ill fortune you have come across.
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Naoya Zen’in is a man of archaic values. On the surface, he appears to be easy going, sometimes uttering mischievous retorts that earn him disapproving looks from the other clan members.
But like an unspoken fact acknowledged by everyone, you know better. It’s not that he pretends to be someone more agreeable in front of the rest of the family, but his belittling, backhanded comments fall easier when he is alone with the servants.
‘You serve well, as a woman should.’
‘Look at her, at least she knows her worth. Don’t fall out of line and stay back behind the men.’
You wonder if there is a story to his behaviour, an explanation to go with his insults. His disdain for women being anything but pretty flowers in the background is not too odd coming from a member of a long standing, traditional family, but it certainly strikes as concerning at his young age. But despite his strong outdated convictions, you have never seen him raise a hand against a woman in the compound.
You muse if he ever has, as you follow his hurried stomps and shaking shoulders. Always three steps behind him, meek — knowing your place. You haven’t seen him this angry before, storming out of the meeting room in a fit as you patiently waited out by the door as he liked it, not privy to the important discussions. You wonder what transpired, but for a man of dangerous ambitions like him, it is easy to take a guess; his angry rant gives away his source of annoyance.
“Damn elders! Interfering with their upturned noses where they don’t need to... So what if uncle has children, they will never inherit the title of the head, not as women and not as long as I am alive!”
...matters of inheritance. Usually the more senior servants up to date with the finer details would ease his anger, but if he were to rampage in his quarters in this state, somehow the blame would fall on you for your incompetence in your management. It is the first time you have served him alone since your appointment and you were not ready to sully your capable reputation yet.
And in the short time during which you have had the mischance to work under him, there were a few things you learnt about Naoya Zen’in and his manners with women, or more specifically, you. The purposeful grazing of his fingers against yours when you presented his tea, the fanning of his breath across your nape as you flitted about his room to tidy up his garments, the inquiring gaze that unabashedly observed the gentle features of your face... Little things which shouldn’t mean anything, but you were a woman, and he, a man — such obvious conduct left little to be imagined for what they meant. And it would be shameful to admit that you allowed this man his little indulgences — if you could call them that; he was not the least bit shy — because you craved the tender attentions of another person, so deprived of them you have been for years. You were never one to take advantage of such sentiments, but if you were to play your cards right...
“Naoya-sama... you are a great man. I am not privy to the delicate matters of the clan, but I believe you deserve what you wish for.”
Naoya looks over his shoulder, the soft lull of your voice silencing him. Your gaze is down, dutiful, eyelashes falling over the tops of your cheeks like soft petals. Their fluttering on your slow blinks has him captured.
But it is your words that make him still. Prettily said, however...
“...sweetheart, you realise what you said goes against most of the clan members’ wishes?”
He towers over you, feet near yours, a small distance between your bodies. The scent of cologne is rich on him.
Your chin is caught by his long fingers. “I don’t like to admit it, but your words could be taken as treason, insolent for just a servant to voice.”
...he wants a reaction out of you. Whether out of frustration or a desire to be consoled, you don’t know. But he hasn’t been completely placated yet, so you bravely raise your gaze to his handsome, striking eyes, the black tips of his hair gently falling over them.
“...you are a great man.”
Naoya sees you shift back to being demure. He’s not sure if you have figured him out, charming him with elegant manners before ensnaring him with hidden strength; a subtle game between your subservient front and your knowing, womanly side which has him playing in your gentle hands.
He wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise if he hadn’t had the luck to catch an accidental glimpse of it.
Naoya lets you go. You drape your hands in front of you, attempting to ignore his ardent attention.
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You’re cutting fruit in the kitchen when you hear the story. The knife promptly falls out of your hands.
“What do you mean... how can a servant end up like that?”
“Well, she was from the main branch of the clan but since she had no talent in sorcery, she obviously served her male relations. It’s not that uncommon. But the bit that’s kinda concerning is that after she started working under Naoya-sama, she supposedly lost herself—”
“—in her craze for him I say!—”
“—and just ended up... like you heard. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but devoting yourself to a man like that is really... you know...”
“Anyways! They say she was caught in the crossfire between Naoya-sama and a curse because she got in the way, but if you want to listen to some of the more grimy rumours — when they retrieved her body, they said it didn’t look like she was killed by a curse!”
Injuries that were not from a curse... the implications go unsaid.
The servant girls wince when they notice your incredulous look. “If it makes you feel better... you’re a domestic worker? Something like that won’t happen again since the house is kinda short on servants, and the other clan members were really mad about the incident too. With being a noble, reputable shaman house and all that. Servants like us don’t come often, you know!”
It was certainly true; the big families were not only known for their powerful status, but also their secrecy. Being the cornerstones of their sorcerer world meant they operated under certain rules, and that included making sure that their secrets were safeguarded by keeping their interactions with the outside world to a minimum.
That included people like you, servants who came with foreign, odd ties to the families. Rarely did some not associate themselves with their birth clans and instead leave, with most deciding to stay and serve as shamans or other safer roles if they had the luck to be born without the appropriate talent. People like you filled the missing, turning clogs of such lineages. It was a small but powerful world, one which kept the common folk safe from dangers they could not imagine.
But that was not the problem. Naoya Zen’in’s nonchalant but domineering character was well known; his increasingly shortening temper even more worrying among the workers as of recent.
The girls share a look while you pick up your dropped object. “...I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” For your own sake.
“Okay... well... keep doing your best while you serve Naoya-sama so the ancient roof doesn’t fall on our heads. We’re depending on you! The senior ladies are quite happy with you so far, he must have said good things; so maybe that was a one time accident.”
You can only imagine what kind of employer reference Naoya Zen’in gave to his aides. His dark gaze flashes in your head as you walk to the dinner room, intent to tidy up the cutlery and utensils and retire for the night.
You don’t expect him to still be there.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Swallowing at his toothy grin, you excuse yourself in with your eyes trained down on the tatami, back turned to him, focusing on clearing the dishes.
Your shaking is unnoticeable to yourself until he grabs your wrist.
“What has you so worked up?”
Really, you cannot forget the girls’ words from earlier. His touch burns your skin.
“...it is nothing, please excuse me.” You hope he fails to notice the wavering of your voice.
But he doesn’t let go despite your tugging. Naoya watches you intently, searching for something in your gaze; he forcefully grips your jaw when you look away.
“Look at me. Suddenly afraid?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, but it is the truth. Naoya Zen’in was a ticking time-bomb, waiting to be set off to destroy both himself and you. Your expression gives you away.
There is a heavy silence between the two of you until you yelp, suddenly dragged and trapped in his strong arms. Your face begins burning upon the soft grazing of his lips against your ear.
“When you shake like a little animal... it’s enticing.” A seductive whisper from behind, drenched in arousal; one which makes your body heat up. “When you women act like this before a man, it turns me on.”
Naoya snakes an arm around to grip your face, palm covering your gasps, his lips leaving searing, open mouth kisses on the exposed skin of your neck; the other grips your midsection under your bust. The agitation you felt earlier leaves your body in quivering breaths, thumping heartbeat drowning out the dark words he mutters on your skin.
“I’ve had my eye on you. The other girls are no good; too chatty and defensive.” He’s fondling your tits, rolling your nipple between his thumb and index — the sensation has you rubbing your thighs. “Some modern bullshit if you ask me. You women... you look better when you’re quiet. Just standing there prettily.”
Naoya turns your head back to face him and he softly admits, “but you know your place, you know when to speak and when to shut up.” Your breath hitches when you see the needy look in his dark pupils, when he presses two of his fingers on your tongue, saliva pooling around them and down the corners of your mouth. “And... you’re easy on the eyes. I’d say we look quite good together, hm?”
Eyes straining on the look on his face, you feel him spreading your legs wide; when you shyly try to close them, he sets your knees apart with his own, the hand which previously left your nipples sore trailing along your thighs and finding your clothed cunt.
This... was wrong. He was a dangerous man, capable of things you wouldn’t waste your time imaging for the sake of your own inner peace, his treatment and degradation towards you and your sex shameful. But he was also a captivating man — the fleeting glances the younger and more impressionable girls secretly sent his way attesting to that fact.
And what a mean thing for him to say. Naoya Zen’in was a well-bred man of the highest stature, your master first and foremost — unattainable to you, but the unfortunate longing you felt only made you weakly push his arms away with no actual conviction.
When he fails to release you, you shamefully allow it to happen.
He has you on your knees, hem of your robe bunched at the waist and exposing your rear towards him. Precarious hands brush the back of your thighs, and next thing you know, your underwear is down to your knees and he is two knuckles deep in you.
The strangled moan that leaves you makes you mortifyingly dip your head between your arms, appalled at the extent of your desire which Naoya makes sure to announce and embarrass you with.
“Would you look at this! Drenched to the core! You’re swallowing my fingers like you don’t want to let go.” He laughs when your hips jut back, allowing you this much. “I’ve been wanting to have you like this for a while now. Can’t say you haven’t noticed it.”
At this moment you vaguely remember his deliberate touches and looks, but your mind is much too preoccupied with the feel of his fingers reaching deeper in your heat against the most sensitive spots. It has you whining louder, asking for more, but he pulls his fingers away.
When you inquisitively look back, Naoya holds you by your cheeks, lips jutting out.
“Clean them.” The unforgiving expression on his face has you whimpering; you can only demurely suck at your own arousal on his fingers. “Cutely.”
Belatedly you notice the slightly open doors of the dining room, but the embarrassment you would have felt at doing such a deed where the risk of being seen and heard was high is overridden by the sudden weight on your back.
Naoya settles himself behind you, gathering the dripping slick from your cunt onto the tip of his cock and pushing past the initial resistance. The sting of intrusion has tears gathering at your eyes. From between your legs, you can only see his bare thighs.
The sharp rutting of his hips to yours is accentuated by his degradation. “Women spread their legs too easily for any man of high status... I’ve seen plenty, shameless and vulgar, only looking to forward their own agendas and secure themselves a cosy future.”
The slapping of skin and the wetness of your cunt is loud and makes your cheeks burn in embarrassment, but your mind slowly turns to mush with Naoya hitting the right spots, making you feel the places deep in which your fingers have never been able to. There is a fleeting thought that passes, wondering how you ended up like this, allowing a despicable man like him to be in you, claiming you as his in a moment of heat. The servant girls’ faces ominously appear in your mind.
“But I’ll allow it for you. If you keep up this good behaviour, I’ll give you a nice reward.” You absentmindedly hum, unable to see his expression; your mounting high has you pushing back into him instead, head delirious with searing desire and an urgent need for release.
“Please what, sweetheart?”
You desperately beg through your tears. “Naoya-sama... Naoya-sama please... touch me! Only you—!”
He lifts himself to see your stained face pressed on the floor, swollen and alluring. The feminine whines that beg for his touch to relieve you of your burning lust... he finds it adorable. A primal emotion bubbles in his chest — the need to put you down but to comply with your heated requests the way only a man who can sate a woman’s desires can; he’ll give it to you, as long as you remain the perfect woman for him. 
Only asking for him, only belonging to him, only needing him.
When he reaches between your legs to press sensual circles into the nerves of your clit, you cry, body shuddering and soft walls fluttering around him.
Naoya’s hips stutter as your cunt milks him for what he’s worth — you should probably panic when you feel his hot cum in your womb, but you’re too fucked into bliss to utter a disagreement, cheek pressed on the dampened tatami mat. Naoya stills on his knees with hands gripping the fat of your hips, still in you, cock creamed to the base — observing you with a domineering look. He doesn’t pull out even when your hips twitch with oversensitivity.
Unbeknown to you, Naoya Zen’in makes with himself a dark promise.
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The change is subtle at first, but you see it. It would take an absolute idiot to not eventually realise.
The most obvious are the younger servants with their dirty looks and accusing eyes. How dare you. Why you?
The more authoritative women are silent, somewhat accepting of it as long as you behave and keep your mouth shut.
You want to laugh; of course, it’s not like the two of you were particularly quiet, and Naoya especially had nothing to hide. Like most men of his position who cared little for the consequences afflicted to those below them as long as they gained what they desired.
He did gift you with a small trinket the next morning when you pretended that nothing transpired, intently moving to do only your duties. Not as an apology — the playful look when he gently brushed your cheek was but a promise for more. And men like Naoya Zen’in did not apologize, especially not to women like you who only served to please him and make his life comfortable. The favours he bestowed on you as reward for your good work and behaviour where just that; rewards.
And so your trysts continued. You figured it became a game for him, to fuck you in every room possible as a challenge; if you successfully managed to not get caught while the other family members were on the other side of the door was only a bonus. You had earned their disapproving glares and embarrassed sputters more than once; there was little you could do but hide behind your master’s back, silently hoping he would take all the blame.
Perhaps you started deluding yourself too, at one point, wondering if it was possible to eventually come to love a man like Naoya Zen’in, as you lay on your side observing his glistening bare back in the early hours of the morning. What was that late female servant thinking? Was she just enamoured by his good looks and promising position? Did she dream of a future at his side, whether as a servant or a woman? Was she misled by his false attentions? Did she obtain the affections she craved?
Your head whirls with thoughts while Naoya places you on his hips, stretching your walls to a familiar weight. You question if you are in a position to be envied; you are a woman receiving the needy touches of a man who is obvious with his desire for you, hands groping the fat of your tits, mouth latching and sucking, littering your skin with marks. Or was it that you were just different from the others in the sense that you were unlucky to have caught his eye?
Naoya must have understood your silent and forlorn look.
“You’re thinking too much.”
You want to scoff, to hit him with an insult. His sudden upwards thrust has you placing your hands on his chest instead so you don’t knock your head with his.
“Whatever you’re worrying about, forget it. What do you even need to think about when I’m here? Just let me make you feel good, and take it like a good girl.” He runs his hands up your arms, then down your back and hips to steady you as he makes you bounce on his cock.
The silence of the room is interrupted by your heady whines and his grunts.
Lifting himself on an elbow, Naoya grabs you by the back of your neck. “Your job is to submit to me. Serve me and obey my every order. You do your duties as a woman, and I’ll look after you as man.” It’s a dark order, and you briefly wonder if there is also promise in there, but he resumes his rutting before you can answer him.
It’s something that nags you for days, weeks on end, on edge and unsure what it means for you even as Naoya comes back one day, furious and blood boiling as an outcast boy overtakes his authority and becomes the head of the clan. The insults and vulgarities he yells make you freeze — he looms in the room like an enraged demon, and the servant’s dark rumours echo in your mind.
You wonder if this is the end of it, for both you and him; Naoya paces about the room, anger clouding his thoughts, when his eyes land on your person. He’s on you before you can evade, however, fingers pressing in the deep flesh of your cheeks, a desperate look in his eyes.
“You won’t leave me. I’ve looked after you all these months, and some kid won’t take over what’s mine. You will stay.”
The bruising pressure on your face isn’t what scares you, but the wild look in his irises which makes you paw against his strong arm, nails digging into his skin.
But he doesn’t budge, and you feel his unshakable resolution, which marks the end for you.
In retrospect, you should have cut ties with the clan the moment you began noticing the red flags.
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beenovel · a year ago
A Faded Understanding
Word count: 733
A/N: I’m gonna be honest here. This is very much based on me and my hair. I thought this up as I watched my hair color fade from dark yale-ish blue to a really dark kinda blueish version of my normal brown. This isn’t really a fic, it’s more like an extremely detailed draft.
Warnings: none, unless you need a warning for stupidity because himbos abound in this fic. WAIT, I nearly forgot, there are some F-bombs so be wary
Summary: Your hair dye starts to fade and the company gets… mildly concerned
Tag list: @elvish-sky @kumqu4t @anjhope1
My thanks to @claraofthepen and @elvish-sky for beta reading!
So you joined them after falling from your world with medium blue hair and while everyone was curious, they didn’t ask (and kept the younger/more forward dwarves from asking) because hair is very personal for dwarves and their thought process was basically “we don’t know much about humans in the first place and this one is from another world, it might be normal there or it could be extremely personal, best not to ask”
But then your hair color starts fading and getting darker
They start getting worried “what if she’s not eating enough, is she not sleeping enough, is she not resting enough, what if she’s sad, elves can die of sadness, humans here can’t, but what if humans there can, she seems to like when it rains, is she not getting enough rain, is that it? Her hair is blue and I mean she said it ‘watered her’ but we thought she was just joking, was she not joking, is she not getting enough sun, dirt, water, is she sick, is she dYING WHAT'S HAPPENING TO OUR HUMAN”
So individually they’ve been taking ‘small, unnoticeable’ steps to try and get your hair to retain its color.
Bifur and Glóin both keep walking up to you and checking your forehead with their hand without a word. This has been making you very nervous.
Óin has been asking you how you feel every time you stop for a break, which is just making you even more nervous.
And Bombur keeps giving you extra-large portions of food but you don’t eat all of it, and that just makes them more worried.
Ori has been getting very sad every time he looks at you and you’ve been trying to cheer him up by telling him stories and it’s kinda working??? But not really???? For a couple of minutes the stories will cheer him up and you’ll be like “yes, go Y/N” but then suddenly he’ll look even closer to crying than before and that makes you want to cry. (hint: it’s because he keeps thinking about how if you die you won’t be around to tell him stories anymore)
Bofur has been hanging around you a lot, constantly trying to get you to smile and laugh. He and Balin also keep saying things like “if you ever need to talk… I’m here”. This has left you very confused on numerous occasions.
Thorin has been having the company take twice as many breaks and won’t let you keep watch or help unpack and set up camp like he used to. Kili all but tackled you to keep you from picking up a heavy object and every time you dismount there are at least three dwarves ready to help you down.
The past couple of nights Fíli and Kíli have been rubbing dirt on your arms to see if it’s not enough dirt or something cause they’re both dumbasses so you keep waking up with your arms covered in dirt like “???? wtf”
Basically, none of them know the meaning of subtle.
You’re sitting down to dinner and they keep ‘sneaking’ glances at you. Finally you’re like “ok wtf is going on you’ve all been super weird the past couple of days, what’s up?”
Ori immediately bursts into tears next to you and you’re like “Woah, it’s ok, don’t cry, pls don’t cry, what’s happening, what did I do”
“Please don’t die”
“????? what????”
Thorin: “your hair color is fading and we’ve been worried it means you’re ill or sad”
Y/N: “That’s it?”
Thorin: “What do you mean ‘that’s it’”
Y/N: “My hair dye is just fading”
Dwalin: “Hair… dye?”
Y/N: “Yeah, like the dye you use on leather? It’s like that, only for hair. It just washes away eventually.”
Kíli: “Why did you dye your hair?”
Fíli: “KILI”
Kíli: “WHAT?!?!”
Fíli: “Don’t be rude, it’s probably personal”
Y/N: “actually I just liked how it looked”
Ori: ”So *sniff* you’re not *sniff* dying?”
Y/N: “No, is that why you’ve all been so weird lately?”
Kíli: *scoff* “we haven’t been weird”
Y/N: “...”
Y/N: *has a thought* *thinks about recent ‘dirt on arms’ thing* “Also, WHOMST THE FUCK put dirt on my arms?”
Kíli: *the oh fuck face appears*
Y/N: “Kili… what even was going through your mind?”
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hersunsetbook · 7 months ago
A Note To ProAna Accounts:
Am I taking time out of my day to write this? Fck yeah, dude.
You think that if I see some chick actively telling other people to starve themselves that I’m going to leave because it offends me? You misunderstand the notion of when to mind your own business. Let me explain.
You mind your own business when you see an individual putting food on their plate. You mind your own business when an individual is picking their nose. You mind your own business when a mom is breastfeeding her child in public.
You do not mind your own business when someone is endangering a child. You do not mind your own business when someone is telling another person to go die. You do not mind your own business when someone is abusing another person.
Create and recreate accounts, I know you do it. It doesn’t matter how many times you get reported and blocked or banned.
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@mrgreybones Are you some dude on tumblr trying to get women to starve themselves for your own pleasure? Or are you someone who is suffering with an eating disorder and this is just some really unhealthy, fcked up way to motivate yourself by telling others with a mental illness to not eat? Or that they don’t deserve to eat. It’s actually really sad to think that you are out there hurting so much that you want others to feel the same kind of pain.
How about instead of spreading the disease, we cure it with positivity and light. Maybe some therapy? Friendship? Seriously, I want to know what it will take to reverse the damage accounts like this do to people.
To those of you trapped in this perpetual cycle of starving, binging, hating yourself, losing yourself, ALL OF IT… have hope. Recovery is possible and you are worthy of nourishment and love and a safe place.
It took me years of this cycle, and I am still stuck, but I promise you recovery is possible and not out of your reach.
I write these notes—angry notes—because accounts like this are one of many possible reasons why some don’t make it out. There is never anything good that comes from these accounts.
You want to try recovery? Block ED tags. Block health and fitness tags. You’re going to be in recovery, and that doesn’t mean switching your focus to the fitness industry. Change the media you expose yourself to by focusing on other hobbies or goals.
Healthy goals: read one book a week, write one chapter for your novel every week, learn a song in another language, study Greek mythology, teach yourself to skateboard, learn how to do different braids in your hair, call someone you love every week, save money to go to another country.
At the end of the day, you’re not a fckn number. Make the world a better place and all that.
Drive your friend to the beach because she’s been depressed lately. Bring a home cooked meal to your coworker who called out sick. Run errands for your mom. Make their world better.
Sick and Tired, but still Here.
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itsclydebitches · 7 months ago
It amazes me that humanity WAS untied, by Salem, of all people. They were just united against the Gods, which screams to me that the Gods only give a shit about themselves and their worship, yet Yang says Salem is only motivated by the loss of Ozma and not the fact Salem was driven insane by untold centuries of isolation (which is what Shlushie had issue with her rant). Again, she had every right to not sympathize, but it’s an extension of show not acknowledging the Gods’ evil.
The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that Jinn’s vision should have been seen only by the audience. Not because there aren’t fantastic things to do with the setup of the characters seeing it too, but because RT hasn’t done anything with that. At this point it’s not just lost potential, but a blight on all their characterizations too. What group of eleven, distinct individuals see/hear about the number of revelations packed into those twenty minutes and acknowledge none of it? The immortality reveal hardly even counts by Volume 8 considering that Ruby, at some point off screen, developed the confidence to tell Salem to her face that they’d beat her, even though last we saw, they were all attacking Ozpin due to the supposed impossibility of winning this war. This is what fans mean when they say that the characters aren’t characters, but just puppet-like creations that move according to whatever new plot point has been introduced.
Speaking specifically about the Salem sympathy issue, yeah, between the vision itself and the group’s reaction to it (such as Ruby gasping when Salem stabbed herself), we have more than enough “proof” (for lack of a better word) that our Big Bad really went though it. Of course, the villain having a tragic backstory is nothing new. It’s almost expected and there’s a reason why we’ve adopted B99’s “Cool motive, still murder” line to summarize the argument that a hard life before doesn’t excuse the horrors enacted now. This is why I really wish the show would establish how much of Salem is still Salem post-grimm pool. A villain choosing to try and destroy the world is very different from a villain infected by a kind of magical "I love destruction" illness that, if stripped away, will reveal a flawed, but far from villainous woman. Personally, my ability to sympathize with Salem now (not the version of her in the past) depends heavily on understanding how much agency she currently has, which RWBY has been maddeningly unclear about.
But really, Salem’s sympathetic nature (or lack thereof) is really a separate point. Here we’re talking about the group’s reaction to her circumstances and you’re absolutely right that the story hasn’t even acknowledged that “proof” or its implications. The group saw everything the gods did to Salem. The group also don't know how much agency she holds post-pool. So why isn’t the group having the same responsibility debates as the fandom? Why aren’t any of our heroes questioning how much of this is Salem’s fault, or struggling with their fury at her vs. their new understanding of her circumstances? Why aren't there any arguments over whether Salem is the villain or the Gods' victim—or both? The fandom’s very complicated reaction to Salem’s backstory is evidence that, if the characters were written like people, they would be having a complicated reaction to it too! I maintain that Yang didn’t need to sympathize in that particular moment when Salem was in the process of trying to kill them, but some of the characters should have been sympathizing at some point post-vision. I think this sort of work is similar to what’s been discussed lately in the RWDE tag regarding Ruby maiming Tyrian. Putting aside for a moment RWBY’s now tenuous relationship with disability, for me the issue is not that Ruby took action to defend herself. Tyrian is 100% the bad guy here and Ruby is 100% in the right to do whatever is needed to defend herself, her friends, and her uncle. No one is arguing otherwise. However, Ruby is supposed to be a (then) 16yo “simple soul” who wants to help people, not hurt them, so I would expect her to grapple with the fact that she maimed someone, no matter who they were or what the circumstances were. Especially given that this was his physical identity as a faunus. Especially since her sister is, currently, grappling with a lost limb. It's not that Ruby made the wrong call, only that the story didn’t allow her to work through that action with the seriousness it deserved. Hell, get rid of the "You're not like Ozpin even though you told Ozpin's exact lies" speech from Qrow and replace it with a "You're not like Adam for maiming someone" speech instead. Let Ruby doubt herself and let Qrow lay out that sometimes you have to take extreme measures to defend yourself. That doesn't make you the bad guy here, even though you're understandably having complicated emotions about doing that.
But Ruby doesn’t care that she maimed Tyrian. Blake and Yang don’t care that they killed Adam. No one cares that they lied to Ironwood for months, even after experiencing that with Ozpin. No one cares that Ozpin was abused, tricked by the gods, and has the literal weight of the world on his shoulders. And no one cares about what Salem went through either. If these are our heroes, I expect them to care about humanity/the faunus, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. Or better yet, given the size of our cast, let there be a variety of opinions on this topic, again, just like we're seeing in the fandom. For example, shouldn’t we consider that the group just found out that Salem existed, idk, a few weeks ago? To them, she’s just this far away, shadowy figure. They know she’s dangerous, of course, but knowing it intellectually isn’t the same as experiencing it first-hand. Every tragedy they’ve encountered thus far, from Beacon to Haven, was enacted by the B Team villains—the same sort of villains they were fighting long before they ever heard about a Salem. The first time they see her, really see her outside of Emerald’s exaggerated vision, is as a human woman mourning her partner’s death, cursed by the Gods, making super questionable choices, and then tortured unimaginably for that. Wouldn’t it be interesting to have some of the group come out of that experience with more sympathy for her than, say, Ozpin who has spent thousands of years being tortured by her? That could be a compelling, generational tale. No more “We don’t need adults,” but rather, “We’re privileged to be able to see Salem without all that personal trauma attached and thus we’re in a position to, maybe, help her. Or at least understand her. Ozpin can’t do that. Not because he’s unwilling or weak, but simply because he literally can’t. She’s hurt him for too long. Us though? We have the benefit of some distance.” With the obvious acknowledgement that not everyone would have such a reaction. How does Weiss react to a woman forcibly kept in her room and doing everything possible to keep the happiness she'd finally achieved (relatable much?) vs. Jaune who lost Pyrrha and has no intention of considering the feelings of the woman who orchestrated her murder? Let the group have differing perspectives!
The real kicker for me is that so many of these villains have personal connections to the cast that the story could draw on to explain the characters’ sympathetic approach. Raven is Yang’s mother. Ironwood is a long time ally and friend. Salem had her horrible backstory shown in a way that made the characters literally live it, not just hear about it second-hand. Fans may not like if the characters forgive them/help them/if they’re just depicted sympathetically by the writing, but there’s a good foundation for saying, “Yeah, but the whole point is that these characters are complex, flawed people and I can understand why they’d go this route, even if personally wouldn’t or couldn’t do that.” But what does RWBY do instead? Redeem Hazel who, five minutes ago, was literally torturing Oscar and who they've only known as a would-be child killer. Redeem Emerald who the group barely knows and has no reason to trust after her first betrayal. Give us a scene of Cinder crying, the one whose backstory was confined to the audience’s knowledge. Once again, it feels like RWBY has everything a little backwards. I can understand the group struggling with their feelings about Salem post-vision in a way I can’t understand them looking at the woman who helped destroy Beacon, pretended to be their friend, was LITERALLY just trying to murder Penny, and laughing happily because #forgiveness. Everything that makes Emerald sympathetic? The characters don't know about it. But they know about Salem. Arguably, Salem has done far too much for many characters to forgive her, but I would expect some level of understanding for the tragedy of her circumstances and the ambiguity of the magic at work, even if it's just from one or two characters embodying the "simple soul" who sees the good in everyone, no matter how villainous. But, just like there was no sympathy for Ozpin, or Ironwood, and on the reverse side Hazel and Emerald were sped run through “redemptions,” there’s nothing for fans to sink their teeth into here. Sympathy for characters is either ignored entirely, or is 100% and comes out of nowhere, leaving the cast feeling like plot pieces, not people, for either ignoring everything sympathetic they know, or shrugging off everything concerning just to forward the plot.
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asset35-maya · 9 months ago
I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕
Oh my god, they were roommates…
“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”
“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”
“Are you even listening to me, Tina!
Goddamnit Tina!”
Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.
“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”
Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.
The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.
Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.
“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”
“Get with the times, boomer…”
Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.
“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”
His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.
“What place?”
“The Tincan ghetto!”
Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.
“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”
“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”
“Hmm… let’s see…”
Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.
“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”
At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.
“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”
Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.
Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.
Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.
He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.
RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.
Gavin sighed in relief.
“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”
The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.
“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”
“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.
Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.
He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.
He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.
“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”
Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.
He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.
Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.
Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.
“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”
There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.
“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”
“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”
There was a flash of steel blue eyes.
Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.
“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”
Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.
“What do you actually do?”
Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.
“I’m a private investigator.”
“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”
Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.
“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”
“For safety?”
“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”
“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”
Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.
Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.
“What pissed you off so much?”
Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.
“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”
Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.
“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”
“So what’s your problem?”
“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”
Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.
“I respect that.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”
Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.
“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”
Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.
“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”
“That was actually… very astute.”
Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.
“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”
The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.
Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.
Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.
For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.
Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.
He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.
That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.
“Thank you.”
“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”
Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.
“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”
The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.
“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”
“I know.”
No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.
“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”
“Join law enforcement?”
“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”
“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”
“He is, isn’t he?”
“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”
“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”
Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.
“What are you… watching?”
Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.
Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.
Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.
Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.
He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.
His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.
Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.
“Oh good, you’re up.”
“Wha-what happened!?”
Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.
“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”
Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.
“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”
“You could’ve easily opened it.”
“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”
Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.
“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”
Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?
He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.
He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.
“Why so happy?”
“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”
“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”
“Android. Singular. Just him.”
“Wowwww… he sounds special.”
“Who did this?”
“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”
“Who phcking did this??!”
He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.
“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”
“Androids do not feel pain.”
“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”
“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”
A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.
“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”
“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”
“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”
“Huh. How’d that happen?”
Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.
“I was… distracted.”
Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.
“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”
“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”
“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”
Captain Fowler nodded and winked.
“That’s what they called it in my day too.”
Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.
“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”
Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.
“Oh thank RA9!”
Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.
“Watch the ribs, big guy.”
“I was so worried.”
“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”
“I meant about you.”
Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.
“I can’t believe you have to ask.”
The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.
“What the-”
“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”
Fowler glanced at Tina.
“The case, Chen?”
“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”
She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.
“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”
“Oh my god, they were roommates…”
“Yeah legit.”
Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto
This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3
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dorthyanndrarry · 9 months ago
Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -7-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 6 || Part 8 ->
Draco leaned back against the door to Elle’s apartment as he shut it, Elle and her brother’s voice coming through the thin wood.
“-he’s a friend-”
“You can barely take care of yourself, the last thing you need-”
“Ryan,” Elle interrupted, “he just needs a place to stay. He’s just sleeping here until he gets some money problems sorted out.”
“And how long is that going to take?” Ryan said, “You don’t know, do you?”
“And you know that it doesn’t work like that,” Elle said.
“Why can’t you just move back in with Mum, Ellen? She has your old room-”
“So she can micromanage every aspect of my life while treating me like I’m made of glass? I’d rather go back to the group home,” Elle said.
“Don’t say that-”
“You left. You don’t know what it was like-”
Draco stepped away, sipping from his half-empty whiskey and coke as he hurried down the stairs.
“Ey, Draco,” Samuel said, looking up at the sound of his footsteps. The skin under his eyes was puffy with weariness, and he held a large insulated mug in both hands.
“Since when do you drink coffee?” Draco asked, dropping onto the bench beside him, “Caffeine seems like-”
“A bad idea?” Samuel finished for him, “Yeah. Makes me jumpy as fuck.”
“Long night?” Draco asked.
“A lotta long nights,” Samuel said.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
“The other dishwasher walked out, and the boss asked me to cover his shifts until he can hire someone new,” Samuel asked.
“So you’re working double shifts?” Draco asked.
“Seven days a week, every night,” Samuel said, shaking his head, “It wouldn’t be too bad, but I’ve got other things to do, y’know? So when I gotta run to the shops or the bank or whatever- it gets a little rough.”
“Can’t you ask for time off?” Draco asked.
Samuel frowned faintly, rubbing the back of his head, “I mean… I could; I just don’t want to risk messing this thing up. I need this job.”
“I could cover a few days for you,” Draco suggested.
Samuel raised an eyebrow, “I doubt you’ve ever worked a day in your life. No offence.”
“None taken. But I’m fairly certain I could manage. For two or three days,” Draco said. “Probably.”
Samuel chuckled and shook his head.
“Look, if you show me how to do everything, I’m certain I can do it,” Draco said.
“I wish I had your confidence, man,” Samuel said.
“It’s better than working yourself to death,” Draco said.
Samuel’s grin grew, “I’m tougher than that.”
“Just because I haven’t worked before doesn’t mean I can’t,” Draco said. “I’ll have you know, I was a very adept learner in school.”
“In what?” Samuel joked, “Curses and hexes?”
“Curses and hexes are a subset of Charms,” Draco said, “You would know that if you were a proper wizard.”
“Sure, man.”
“So?” Draco said.
Samuel thought about it for a while and then nodded, “Alright. I’ll call my boss and see if he’d be game for you to step in for a few days. Monday and tuesday are usually pretty light. Just, probably best if you don’t bring up the wizard stuff.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about it to non-wizarding folk, anyway,” Draco said.
“Yeah, good. I’ll be right back,” Samuel said, standing up and heading over to his ground floor apartment. He stopped and turned around, “That cop of yours was hanging around here earlier.”
“What happened to him?” Draco asked.
“He was sitting on the bench across from me, and he up and left. He must not have liked how I was looking at him,” Samuel said, pulling open his door and stepping inside.
Draco could just imagine the look Samuel had been giving Potter. Samuel had a ‘leave me alone’ stare that could make the most hardened individual feel deeply uncomfortable.
Draco sighed and stood up, stepping out of the courtyard and looking around.
Potter was leaning against the outside wall chewing on his thumbnail, somehow contriving to look even worse than Samuel.
“You look like shit,” Draco said.
Potter’s head jerked up, and he glared at Draco with red-rimmed eyes, his hair in a particularly unpleasant mess, “No thanks to you.”
“Did telling you ‘no’ bruise your little ego?” Draco asked.
“I had nightmares all night because of what you said,” Potter said.
“Boohoo,” Draco said sarcastically, “I feel so sorry for you. As if I wasn’t racked with nightmares for years about nearly dying in a flooded bathroom at the hands of an idiot.”
Potter scowled down at his feet.
“Why won’t you just go away, Potter?” Draco said, truly exasperated.
“Are you actually going to work for that guy?” Potter asked, completely ignoring Draco’s question.
“Yes,” Draco said.
“But you wouldn’t take my money,” Potter said.
Draco snorted, “It’s not about the money, he could use a break, and I want to help.”
“But you do need money,” Potter said.
Draco rolled his eyes, “I don’t want your money, Potter.”
Potter turned his glare to Draco, “The money I offered you was just to replace the thousand from your wallet. It was a loan to help you out until I could get your stuff out of processing, which I have been trying to do.”
Draco sighed, “I don’t want your money.”
“Then what do you want?” Potter asked.
“For you to go away, as I have said, numerous times,” Draco said.
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Potter said.
“You are such a stubborn arsehole,” Draco said.
“Says you, prick,” Potter shot back.
Draco shook his head, “You can’t ‘fix’ this. You can’t save me like some sort of damsel in distress.”
“Well, that’s true. You’re definitely not a damsel in distress. I couldn’t think of a worse description for you,” Potter said sarcastically. “You’re more of a henchman. Or a sentient cactus.”
Draco laughed.
“...What?” Potter was staring at him.
“Sentient cactus,” Draco repeated, “I like that.”
Potter looked away with a frown.
The sound of a door shutting and footsteps heralded the return of Samuel, who stopped right under the archway leading out onto the pavement.
Samuel paused to throw a glare at Potter before turning his back to him and talking only to Draco. “I talked to my manager. He said he’d be game, but it’s going to be unofficial-like because he doesn’t want to deal with all the paperwork just for a temp. So I’ll pay you out of my wages, alright?”
Draco nodded, “That’s fine. When do I- we work? It’s almost time, isn’t it?” He glanced up at the sun, making its way into late afternoon.
Samuel shook his head, “It’s saturday. Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to do everything during the first half of my shift when it’s quieter, and then, if everything works out, you can take over on monday.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Draco said.
Samuel smiled tiredly, “And, thanks, man.”
“No problem,” Draco said.
Samuel held out his hand for a fist bump before headed towards the tube station.
Potter didn’t speak until Samuel was out of sight, “Do you really not know what day it is?”
“It’s not something I need to know,” Draco said.
“And you’re going to work in that?” Potter said, nodding to the joggers and loose t-shirt Draco had been stuck in the past few days.
“Probably not,” Draco said.
“So, how’re you going to get new clothes without any money?” Potter asked.
Draco found himself starting to grin at this stupid little game Potter was playing. “I could always borrow something from Samuel,” he said, “But I’ll probably go to a thrift store down the way and copy something decent.”
“You’ll steal something,” Potter said.
Draco rolled his eyes, “No. Potter. The original clothes will remain in the shop and can still be sold. My copies are, as you call them, not real clothes. They’ll only last a week or two before the magic dissipates.”
“If you’re going to just copy some clothes, why not copy something expensive?” Potter asked.
“Because the Geminio charm copies everything,” Draco said, “Including those little clipped on plastic things that set off the alarms when you try to leave with them. And every time I’ve tried to just vanish the alarm, it vanished the whole fucking outfit. Cutting them out works, but it’s a lot of work for clothes with holes in them that will disappear in a week.”
Draco lifted his bottle of coke and whiskey to his lips and took a rather large swallow.
Potter squinted at the bottle.
“What?” Draco asked.
“I was half expecting it to be a beer,” Potter said.
“Ugh,” Draco wrinkled his nose, “I do not understand why people drink beer. The last thing I want to do is taste my alcohol.”
Potter narrowed his eyes at the bottle in his hand.
“Whiskey and coke,” Draco said, “You think I would talk to you sober? Not likely.”
“The last time I was here, was that-”
“Vodka cranberry,” Draco said.
Potter frowned, “Do you always drink so much?”
Draco shrugged the question off, “I suppose since it’s saturday, you already had the day off. Can’t fathom why you’d want to spend it here,” he gestured to the sad-looking little neighbourhood.
“Aurors work all days of the week. I only specially ask for sundays off,” Potter said. “Why do you drink so much?”
“Because,” Draco said flippantly. “So you had to take more time off to keep stalking me then?”
“I have a lot of personal days saved up,” Potter said, “Because why?”
Draco frowned at him, “Just because.”
“I answered all your quest-”
“I don’t owe you any fucking answers, Potter,” Draco snapped. “Merlin, why can’t you just mind your own business!” He turned and stormed back into the apartment complex.
He went back up the stairs. Thankfully, he didn’t have to go back to Elle’s flat and her angry brother because Potter didn’t follow him. Draco sat down on the top step. When he tilted his coke up and got nothing more than a few drops from the bottom, he threw the empty bottle down the stairs. It clattered loudly against concrete and metal before coming to a slow rolling stop. Draco leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes.
Draco blinked slowly, his eyes tracking the clouds moving past the little square of blue high over the courtyard. The concrete bench he was lying on dug into his hips and shoulders, but at some point, he had stopped caring. He was humming under his breath, a soft nonsense melody just to break up the silence around him.
A shadow fell over Draco, and he squinted through the change in brightness. The shadow plucked the bottle dangling from Draco’s fingers and held it up to the light, yellow-white sunlight streaming through the liquid.
“Lemonade?” Potter asked. He sniffed the mouth of the bottle and frowned before taking a tiny sip and making a face. “Jesus, Malfoy, how much vodka did you put in this?”
“Too much,” Draco muttered, “Tastes like shite.”
“You still drank most of it,” Potter said.
“And I’ll finish it,” Draco said, reaching up to take the bottle.
Potter kept it easily out of reach.
“You don’t know where that’s been,” Draco said.
“Your mouth? What, did you spit in it?” Potter asked.
“You wish,” Draco said.
Potter snorted, “I’m not one of your hookups, Malfoy.”
“You just have terrible taste,” Draco said sourly, “Never could see quality when it was right in front of you.”
“Probably because you always open your mouth and ruin it,” Potter said.
“Rude,” Draco said, but couldn’t help smiling, “but probably true.”
“Definitely true,” Potter said. He pushed one of Draco’s legs off the back of the bench and sat on the edge.
“I thought you’d finally given up,” Draco muttered.
“You said you were going to work for three days,” Potter said.
Draco grimaced.
“Went well, did it?” Potter said sarcastically.
“I did the job. No one had any complaints,” Draco said irritably.
Potter didn’t say anything.
“I washed all the plates and pots and washed more and washed more, and smelled like their weird soap,” Draco held up his hands, “my hands got all pruney.”
Potter frowned in disbelief.
“I lied. I wore gloves the whole time,” Draco said.
“You’re supposed to wear them, for hygiene,” Draco said.
“Why did you lie?” Potter asked.
“Pruney hands was funnier,” Draco said, “Not that you ever laugh at my jokes.”
Potter looked at him with a sigh, and Draco lifted his foot and tried to kick Potter in the side but missed, nearly slipping off the bench.
“You’re drunk,” Potter said.
Draco pulled his legs back up, tucking his feet up by his knees, “Fuck off.”
Potter sighed again, “… I don’t think I can.”
“Are your legs broken?” Draco asked sarcastically.
“Malfoy...” Potter said.
“I had to be good,” Draco said.
“At the working. I had to be good, so I didn’t drink much. I didn’t want to get Samuel in trouble, so I was good.” Draco said, “I worked hard. I was good.”
“That’s- that’s good?” Potter said, his brow furrowing.
“Why can’t you?” Draco asked.
“What?” Potter asked, “Can you try to make sense? I can’t follow half the shite you’re saying.”
“I want you to fuck off; you said no,” Draco said.
“Because… I want to make this right,” Potter said.
“fuuuuck,” Draco groaned.
“You were-” Potter grimaced, “-you were right. I’ve- I’ve fucked this all up, and I owe it to you to try and fix it.”
Draco closed his eyes with satisfaction, “Say it again.”
“That I fucked everything-”
“That I was right,” Draco said.
There was a long, long pause that promoted Draco to open his eyes again and watch Potter grimace and furrow his brow like someone had shoved a lemon in his mouth.
“…You were right,” Potter said reluctantly.
Draco grinned hugely.
“Fucking hell, Malfoy,” Potter muttered. “Just tell me what you want.”
Draco tilted his head back to look back at the sky.
“Anything. Whatever you want,” Potter said.
Draco smiled wanly, “‘Whatever I want’ that’s a dangerous thing to offer.”
“Within reason,” Potter added.
Draco scoffed.
“So what?” Draco said.
“What do you want?” Potter asked.
A pigeon flew in and landed on the edge of the building, its wings opening and flapping absently to keep its balance.
“Malfoy,” Potter said.
“I don’t know,” Draco said.
“I don’t,” Draco said.
Potter sighed.
Draco pushed himself up, dropping his legs on either side of the bench, his knee pressing into the side of Potter’s leg, “Give me my drink back.”
Potter looked at the bottle in his hand and frowned. He tightened his grip, the plastic crinkling in his hand, and for a moment looked like he might throw it across the courtyard, but reluctantly passed it over to Draco.
The last swallow of the cocktail was sour and biting with vodka, gone warm from sitting in Potter’s hand.
“Malfoy, what can I do to make this right?” Potter asked.
Draco flipped the empty bottle upside-down and whacked Potter on the side of his head, “I don’t want it.”
“What?” Potter said with a frown.
“Your stupid- anything,” Draco said, smacking Potter again with a hollow plastic tong.
“I know you don’t want my money,” Potter said.
“I don’t want anything from you, because it’s you. I’d rather die than take your fucking charity,” Draco said.
Potter grabbed Draco’s wrist before he could hit him again and pulled the bottle easily out of his hand. “It’s not charity, Malfoy. I fucked up your life. I owe you. I want to fix things.”
Draco sneered at him.
Potter threw the bottle out of reach.
“Let me go,” Draco said, trying to pull his hand away.
Potter let him go.
Draco rubbed his wrist even though Potter hadn’t hurt him in the least.
“Fine. Fine. What- what about a deal then?” Potter said, his voice dripping with frustration, “There’s something like that, isn’t there?  An unbreakable vow but a deal between two people.”
Draco snorted, “Not a chance; unbreakable vows are fatal if you break them.”
“Which is why I asked if there was something, less- less fatal!” Potter said.
“A Birkin’s Bargain?” Draco said.
“Which is what? How does it work?” Potter asked.
“It’s a magically binding vow for both people,” Draco said.
“And if someone breaks the… bargain? What happens?” Potter asked.
Draco shrugged one shoulder, “It’s broken. The deal is off. No one really uses Birkin’s Bargain because there’s nothing to really bind the vow without the threat of death.”
Potter rolled his eyes, “Of course not. Nothing in the wizarding world lasts without some sort of threat of death or injury involved.”
Draco laughed faintly.
“So let’s make a bargain then,” Potter said.
“It’s not a bargain if you don’t want something,” Draco said.
“Who said I don’t?” Potter said.
Draco frowned and leaned back, “...What do you want?”
“...Stop drinking,” Potter said.
Draco grimaced, “We talked about this, Potter, you can’t damsel in distress me-”
“Why not?” Potter said.
“Why can’t I save you? You think I can’t? I bet I could,” Potter said, his expression settling into fierce determination, the likes I which Draco hadn’t seen since they were both in school.
Draco shivered and then frowned at himself.
“And you can have whatever you want,” Potter said.
Potter nodded.
“So I could live in your flat?”
Potter’s mouth tightened, but he nodded.
“And you would take care of all my needs?” Draco asked.
Potter managed a very tight nod.
Draco leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart, reaching up and brush Potter’s cheek with the back of his hand, the faint shadow of stubble scraping across his skin, “All my needs?”
Potter jerked back, “No sleeping around either.” He narrowed his eyes and took Draco’s hand, pulling it down to the bench, “If you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work.”
“Does it ever?” Draco said.
The corner of Potter’s mouth turned up in a faint smirk, “No.” He held out his hand, “It’s a bargain then?”
“That’s not how the spell works,” Draco said.
“Malfoy,” Potter said impatiently.
“You’ll break the bargain first,” Draco said.
Potter snorted, “Doubt it.”
Draco eyed Potter’s hand warily, “Fine,” and shook it.
💜 Next update will be tuesday pst 💜 😉👍 but hey, at least we’re finally at the beginning of where the original story started lol
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you soooo much!!!! 💜
💜 @slyther-ink I think his upbringing and school trauma probably primed him to always put himself first for his own safety but he needs to work on that shit now  :<  💜 thank yous!!!!💜
💜 @cats-extra-tails :D thank you!!!
💜 @shadowybook  it’s like the tables have turned lol 💜thank you!!!!! 💜
💜 @lilyinthebreeze Harry is a twit :D  💜thank you so much!
💜 @devilrising it still always surprises me how loud and shrill kids can be lol thank you so so so much!
💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you!
💜 @dewitty1 thank you soooooo much! loved that ‘harry needs to step down off his high horse and clean off his glasses’ lol that’s a good line!  💜 💜 💜
💜 @chosenpotter :)) thank you so much!!!
💜 @iamactuallya-cat thank you!! 💜
💜 @idareyoutotakealook 👍👍👍👍👍heck yea! thank you!
💜 @addicted-to-w0rds thank you! and happy frickin birthday! I hope you had a good one 😘 💜
💜 @languedor71 ‘Harry handed Draco a knife to stab him’ Gooooood I loved that!! That’s so good 💜 💜 💜thankyou!!!!
💜 @champagnemonarch thank you!
💜 @dracodragon19872 it’s been a while since Harry’s had some push back, it’ll be good for him 😁 💜thank you!!!
💜 @justafangirlslikes draco being nice to everyone but harry hmmm🤔🤔🤔 wonder if that will cause problem later 💜 💜thankyou so much!!!
💜 @mortalsfool thank you!!!!! 💜 💜 💜 💜
💜 @onomtonks  💜 @cloack  💜 @whenrainbowsend 
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sawamooora · a year ago
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Terushima x Fem!Reader x Daichi
Part one | two
A/n: It’s here, it’s finally here! Thank you all for waiting, I know it’s been forever!
This piece can be read separate from the first, or you can read them as a set :)! Whatever floats your boat! Huge thanks to both @shorkbrian​ and @drxwsyni​ for beta reading both parts!! I know it’s not easy LOL.
Again, as per usual, this content – and all the content on this collab’s MASTERLIST – contains dark themes. Please HEED ALL THE WARNINGS, stay safe, and enjoy all our talented member’s contributions!
Summary: Waking up in a new environment has you understandably on edge. Your instincts beg you to run, to get away while you still can – but how can you leave when Daichi’s been nothing but kind? He’d never hurt you, right? When your conversation takes a darker turn, the line between friendship and hostility quickly becomes blurred. What’s real? What’s fake? At this point, you can’t tell the difference. Throughout this whole mess, only one thing is certain – you won’t be getting out of this unscathed.
W/c: 9.2k
Rating: 18+ / M
T/w: yandere, smut, dubcon/noncon, gaslighting/manipulation, explicit language, reader ‘cheating’ on an unnamed character, mentions of somno, mentions of blood, daddy kink, heavy physical abuse, slight Stockholm syndrome, drugging of the reader, indirect ass to mouth... (Let me know if if miss anything!)
Note: this story goes at an insanely slow pace. Like usual, the juicy parts/the smut, is wedged between the asterisks ([****] in case you wanna skip to/avoid that!!)
Again, PLEASE BE WARY OF THE TAGS, and please, please, please, be safe with your mental state!
All characters are 18+
Read at your discretion
To put it gently, waking up is a nightmare.
Lost, broken, scared, confused... These aren’t the right words, but they’re close.
There’s way too many expressions for just one word to describe the turmoil you're feeling. Although, if you had to choose, unbridled fear is probably the most fitting.
The shattering of glass, the honking of horns, the agonizing screams echoing through the streets… If it were up to you, you’d rather stay asleep – forever if possible.
The aching in your limbs urges you to drift away, to sink back into unconsciousness – but the world has different plans.
The pounding in your head demands you do something. Even just the twitch of a finger has you groaning out in nauseating pain. If you don’t get up soon, or at least roll onto your side, chances are you’ll choke.
The world spins violently as you turn to cough up your fluids. Even with your eyes squeezed shut, and your body placed firmly against a solid surface, it feels like you’re being hurled around on a carnival ride.
A small whimper leaves your lips in a desperate plea for help.
No one comes.
When you finally work up the strength to open your eyes, you're met with the soft, static hum, of an old box TV. It’s an odd sight for sure, do they even still make those?
It takes a moment for the world to stop spinning and your eyes to start working. Taking in your surroundings is no easy task. The room is dark and musty without a clear window in sight.
Small streams of artificial light leak through the individual planks, but it’s not nearly enough to help any sense of vision.
Whoever lives here took the liberty of boarding up every exit – aside from the one rear entryway.
The walls are covered in what you think is a floral wallpaper, but it’s hard to tell when most of it lays shredded on the floor. You’re not sure, but the popcorn ceiling seems to be covered in a green grime – what it’s from? You can’t say.
As you continue to survey the rooms one thing becomes blatantly clear – aside from you, no ones been here in a long time.
If you squint hard enough, you swear you can make out a series of deep cracks and water damage in all the supporting structures. As one might expect, all corners of the room hold the thick remnants of dust and cobwebs.
As you begin to regain consciousness, a sudden wave of fear courses through your limbs. Your mind races as you start to fully register the situation. You can’t remember a thing…!
Terushima, the crates, the alleyway, your violation… You whimper at the thought. Why can’t you remember anything past that?
Where am I? How long have I been out? How did I get here?
All of these are valid questions, but you’re unlikely to find the answers staring blankly at the scene in front of you.
A distant clatter startles you from your thoughts. Your voice cracks with its sudden and wary use, “H-hello?”
Your body screams as you bring yourself into a sitting position. All of a sudden, the world is spinning again. In a desperate attempt to steady your mind, you grasp your head between your palms and slowly countdown from 10.
10… 9… 8… 7… 6…
You only make it to 5 before you hear what you think is a door being slammed shut. Through clenched teeth, you call out to the noise, “Is… is anyone there?”
You wait a few minutes, but there's still no response.
Once you somewhat regain your senses, you continue to survey the room.
Surrounding you is a series of tacky, old furniture. Both the couch you occupy, and the armchair off to the left, are made up of a clashing pink and turquoise floral pattern. It certainly doesn’t bode well with the orange florals on the wall…
To your right is a puke green aluminum TV tray, and in front of you is a mahogany coffee table covered in a large off-white doily. Centered on the table is a misplaced blue and white porcelain vase.
The scene is perfectly set. It’s a time capsule of what you imagine a 90’s home would be like – of what your grandparent’s house looks like. You must be dreaming. There’s no way this can be real.
The only sign that you’re not alone, is the hum of the tv, the ratty blanket wrapped around you, and the lingering set of footprints in the dust.
Upon hearing the squeaking of floorboards, and the heavy fall of footsteps, your body begins to violently shake. The closer the figure gets, the more you start to panic. A cold sweat works it’s way over your limbs. The clattering of your teeth is almost deafening.
Who's there? If only you were brave enough to call out...
Instead, as the handle of the door rattles open, you wrap the ratty blanket closer to your huddled form and whimper out in fear.
Your instincts tell you to run, to get away while you still can – but your body refuses to cooperate. A lone tear drips down your face as you hear the door open and slam shut behind you. You reach to grab the vase, lifting it just above your head tightly before whipping around to face your attacker.
“Y/n?” Your eyes shoot open in fear.
He knows my name?
A mixture of shock and awe flash over your eyes as you register who’s standing in front of you.
Your weak voice trembles it’s response, “D-Daichi?”
He raises his hands up in surrender, or as much as he can with a plastic bag hanging in each grip.
“Don’t be scared,” he calls out warily. “It’s just me.”
With slow and cautious movements, you bring the vase down to rest in your lap. “W-what’s going on…? What, what are you doing here? How did we- how are we- is this real?” Your lip quivers with fear as your eyes well up with tears. It’s all too much for you.
“Hey hey hey, shhhhh. Calm down Y/n.” You watch through blurry vision as he slowly sets the bags onto the floor. He raises his hands once again, obviously in an attempt to show you he has no ill intent. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I’m your friend, don’t you remember? I’m gonna help you.”
You remember Daichi, of course you do. He was your best friend, he is your best friend. He’s been with you all throughout High School, all throughout your toughest years...and yet, you can’t help the way you flinch back at his approach. Is he going to hurt you too? Like Yūji...
With his long strides, it only takes a few seconds before Daichi’s placed himself next to you on the couch. You visibly cringe when he reaches out his hand. “Please.” A soft sob leaves your lips, “P-please don’t…”
Daichi frowns, slowly lowering his hand, and his gaze, back down to his lap. “Please don’t look at me like that.” His once confident voice takes on a much softer and unsure tone.
“Like- like what? How… How am I looking at you?”
Daichi brings his gaze up to meet yours, “Like I’m a monster…”
A gentle silence stretched between you two until Daichi can’t take it anymore.
“I’m a cop now, so… I’m not gonna hurt you, Y/n. I’d never do that. Even if it wasn’t against the law, and my moral codes.” His statement is followed up by a nervous chuckle.
Your eyes widen in shock, “Y-you’re a cop?”
“Yeah,” he just shrugs before slowly pulling out his badge. “See?”
You reach out to take his badge, thoroughly examining its legitimacy before reluctantly handing it back. The surprise etched across your face must be pretty evident.
“Is it really that hard to believe?” He asks.
“N-no!” You’re quick to correct yourself. “I just, I wasn't expecting it, that’s all…”
“Oh, yeah?” He tucks the badge back into his pocket, “I guess it has been while, huh.”
“Yeah…” You cautiously pull the blankets aside,carefully monitoring his expression for any signs of danger.
For the first time, you’re able to properly look at your body. You can’t help but notice that he’s bandaged and cleaned all your wounds. In fact… there’s not a spot of dirt on you… Not to mention, he’s even taken the liberty of changing you into a clean dress – one that seems to fit you to a T...
You feel panic start to bubble in your chest. Ever observant, Daichi is quick to speak up. “Wait! Before you freak out, you were covered in grime, and your wounds were oozing. I promise, all I did was clean you up. When I was changing you I kept my eyes closed the whole time, I swear! And that dress? My mom left it here the last time she visited.”
The last time she visited? When was that? 30 years ago? This place looks abandoned…
Besides, you’ve seen his mom… there’s no way you two could swap clothes this perfectly...
To be honest, his response doesn't make you feel much better. But he is a cop…
It’s his job to take care of the vulnerable, to protect the weak… In this case, that means you…
Besides, you know Daichi. He’s a good guy, he always looked out for you in the past... The two of you were best friends after all… It’s what you keep telling yourself anyway.
With that in mind, you decide not to press the issue further – despite how badly you want to. Instead, you just nod your head in acceptance.
It takes another moment before you decide to speak up. “I-I can’t believe you just happened to be in the area…”
“What a crazy coincidence right?” Daichi’s nervous chuckle throws you off.
“Y-yeah, coincidence…”
You flinch backwards as Daichi gets up from the couch. He cringes a little at your reaction but says nothing. “I’m gonna go make us some tea, does Jasmine sound alright?”
You just nod, unsure of whether you’re allowed to talk...
It’s all the answer Daichi needs before he turns to scoop up the forgotten grocery bags and takes off down the hall.
What would normally feel like hours passes by in the blink of an eye. As you stare intensely into the static screen, you find yourself lulled into an unresponsive state.
You don’t hear the whistle of the kettle, you don't hear the heavy clattering of china, and you certainly don’t hear the creaking of the floorboards. You’re just so tired, so incredibly exhausted. It takes everything in your power just to stay awake.
You're jolted from your thoughts with a light shake to your shoulder. Daichi looks at you with distressed eyes as you involuntarily whine and curl into yourself.
Realizing your mistake, you’re quick to right yourself. “I-I didn’t-”
Daichi brings up his hand to silence you. “It’s okay, you don’t need to explain.” You just nod, appreciation and admiration filtering through your eyes. He motions towards the teacup placed in front of you. “Drink.”
With a few weary glances between Daichi and the tea cup, and with his nods of encouragement, you bring the hot drink up to your lips. A soft moan involuntarily leaves your lips. It’s much sweeter than you anticipated – it’s delicious.
The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. You aren’t sure how long it stretches, but you know that you wish it would’ve gone on longer.
“Do you believe in a higher power Y/n?”
You visibly wince as Daichi’s voice cuts through the room.
“Sorry,” he chuckles. You watch as he gently places down his cup. “Sometimes I forget how to use my inside voice.”
You stare up at Daichi, confusion clearly filtering across your gaze.
“A higher power?”
“Yeah,” he mumbles to himself. It’s almost cute how he nervously scratches at the back of his neck. “Sort of like there's someone out there, looking out for you, watching over you, keeping you safe…”
You look at him with a blank stare, you don’t understand what he’s trying to get at… He just lets out a weak sigh upon seeing your expression.
“I don’t know…” He sounds discouraged. “You just, you said something to me before you passed out...”
“Oh,” you mumble. “I see. I can’t really remember… everything’s kind of a blur.”
If you force yourself to think back, like really force yourself, you can slightly make out little bits and pieces of what happened.
You think you remember being saved, it would certainly make sense. After all, Yūji isn’t here right now…
It would make even more sense if that person just happened to be Daichi, seeing as he’s literally seated right next to you. Still, all of those ideas are just that, an idea.
All you can truly remember, is a figure bathed in light…
You turn to face your childhood friend, “I guess you’re kinda talking about the whole god thing, right? As the higher power?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles nervously. “I guess that’s what I mean.”
“Well, in that case.” You set down your tea, meeting Daichi’s eyes in a serious manner. “I guess if I had to believe in a higher power, than it’d have to be you…”
A small smile graces your lips as you gage his reaction. “What I mean, is that I guess in this scenario... you’d be my hero… my god... ” An awkward silence begins to stretch between the two of you before you break out into a soft laugh.
“What’s with that shocked expression Diachi? I meant what I said. You did save me after all! You really are my God.”
He’s at a loss for words, still unable to process the words leaving your lips. His face is riddled with uncertainty.
You quite like this expression, it’s something you’ve rarely ever seen on him. He’s always been so sure of himself, so confident – always acting with an underlying level of conviction. You can’t help but tease him a little further, hoping to prolong the bubbly mood. You find yourself relaxing, finally giving in to your long lost best friend. It’s easy to fall back into a playful routine, your light banter coming back naturally.
“I guess I should start worshiping you now, huh.”
You mean it as a joke, it’s obvious to anyone who might’ve happened to listen in – but to Daichi, your words are like a sacred text. He’ll follow them to a T, hanging off every syllable if need be. The intensity of his gaze should’ve given you some indication of his intentions, but you’re much too stupid, much too naive.
Still, despite everything that's happened tonight, you don’t catch on to the increasingly tense atmosphere. Instead, you continue to open up, telling story after story about your time away from Diachi. He watches you with calculating eyes as a huge smile plasters itself across your cheeks.
As much as Daichi loves to hear your stories, he can’t help but ask. “What were you doing outside tonight? You know it’s not safe.”
You just scoff. “It wasn’t exactly like I planned it…”
Daichi just continues to patronize you. “You’re so careless Y/n. Don't you know how dangerous it is for a young, vulnerable thing like you? You’re so weak, how could you even think to be wandering alone at night? Even at the best of times it’s dangerous. But tonight? What was going through your head?”
You swat him playfully on the chest, slightly annoyed at his treatment.
“Don’t treat me like a child Daichi. I’m only a year younger than you. I’m not that weak. Besides,” you continue. “I wasn’t planning on going out. I don’t know if you remember – you know, that guy who was attacking me?? That was Yūji, you know, from Jōzenji? He just randomly showed up and started chasing me.” You shiver at the memory.
Daichi just clenches his jaw, is that what happened… interesting.
You smirk playfully at your friend, trying to lighten the mood a little. “I bet I could take you.”
Daichi just bursts out into a loud laugh. “Sure you could, Kitten.”
You freeze at the name. Kitten… How? Why?
Daichi watches as you tense up. “Is everything all right?” You refuse to meet his eyes.
It has to be a coincidence… Kitten isn’t an uncommon pet name… right?
But the fact that hours earlier, Yūji had called you the same name… it just doesn’t sit right. That horrid pet name plays in your mind on a never ending loop.
Still, you give Daichi the benefit of the doubt. Surely, he has a good explanation.
“What- what’d you just call me?”
“What?” He questions in surprise.
“You just, you called me Kitten…”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just a reflex.” You watch as Daichi scratches the back of his neck. It's a tic you don’t fail to notice...
The mood in the room turns sour. Soon enough, the air is filled with a suffocating tension and an unresolvable silence.
You glance at the small clock in the corner of the tv screen. It’s hard, but eventually you’re able to find your voice.
“I think I should go Daichi. There’s only a few hours left of this year's Purge, no ones going to be out anymore… Besides,” you start. “My boyfriend was expecting me. He’s probably so worried! Especially since I seem to have lost my phone… I couldn’t contact him all night. He has no idea where I am, or that I’m safe.”
Safe, what a subjective term.
As you go to get up, Daichi grabs your wrist, forcing you to stop your upwards movement. You shoot him a questioning look.
“10 more minutes,” he pleads. A strained smile filters across his face. “Here,” he says while picking up your empty cup. “Let me go refill your drink.”
You bite your lip nervously at his suggestion. You really should get going... Your stomach flips at the thought of being forced to stay here, but it’s only ten more minutes…
Taking your silence as approval, Daichi goes to get up, sending you a warning glance as he leaves.
Before you can even contemplate sneaking out, he’s already returned with a fresh cup of tea. You take it from him with a reluctant smile, thanking him under your breath.
“So,” he starts. “Tell me about this boyfriend. How did that happen? When?”
This line of questioning makes you feel uncomfortable to say the least. You nervously shift in your seat as you try to think of a way out of this. You pretend you don’t hear him, choosing to sip your tea instead. Your face scrunches you a bit. There’s something off about this cup, it’s so bitter. Maybe he just forgot the sweetener… either way. You’re not about to complain.
You continue to remain silent, but that tactic doesn’t work, not for very long anyways. Sooner than you would’ve liked, you realize that you’ve reached the bottom of your cup. Looking up, you're met with Daichi’s intense gaze – he’s still waiting on your answer.
You gulp down your nervousness and turn your body to face him. “Oh- my boyfriend? That story’s pretty boring. It’s nothing special, really…”
Daichi ignores your protest, choosing instead to keep prodding you for answers. “I’d like to hear about it Y/n, unless you’re trying to hide something from me.”
You cringe at the use of your name and the heavy implications of his statement. Why should you have to tell him anything? He’s been absent from your life for years? If only you had the courage to speak up.
You’ve never been good with authority figures, and the way he’s speaking to you… It almost feels like you’re in some kind of trouble with the school’s principal.
To your reluctance, you just glance at Daichi. Your fingers nervously toy with the handle of your teacup as you think of how to make your response as short as possible. “Well, we met at college – through a school project. He was really nice and helped me with everything I didn’t know. And then, it sort of just happened.”
“How long.” His questions are immediate, short, and direct. You cringe at their harsh tone.
“M-maybe 6 months now?”
6 months.
Daichi clenches his fists. Grinding his jaw in frustration, he bites out his next question. “Is it serious?”
You flush, “Y-yeah. I mean, we were thinking of moving in together… After tonight...”
He hates the giddy expression on your face. You shouldn’t feel that way about anyone, not unless it’s directed at him.
The two of you just sit in a tense silence. Could 10 minutes go by any slower? You keep staring at the clock, wishing the numbers would change just a little faster…
For some reason, the more you try to focus, the hazier things seem to get. As you squint, trying to get a better look, you swear you can see the number counting backwards. You cry out in panic as the whole world starts to move around you.
“D-Daichi, something wrong… I-I’m scared!”
You drop your cup to the floor and desperately try to clutch at his form.
“Shhh, don’t worry little one.” He strokes your hair, pressing your head tightly against his body. “Everything is gonna be okay. You’ll see”
You wince as you feel a wet streak slip down your cheeks. Are you crying? Panic wells in the center of your chest. You go to pull yourself away, you want to leave – now. But you quickly find out that your wants are just a pipe dream.
Your panic only increases when your body refuses to move. A strangle cry leaves your lips.
“I-I can’t move. Daichi please, what’s going on?” Daichi lifts your chin to meet his gaze. His once soft features have a harsh frown etched across them.
“I’m sorry little one, you lost the bet.” Your eyes flicker with confusion.
Bet? What bet? What’s he talking about?
Daichi gets up, laying your limp body gently on it’s side. “You can come out now,” his booming voice echoes through the room.
Before you can question who he’s talking to, a familiar chuckle dances through the room. “See Daichi, I told you our little kitten was a fucking slut. You didn’t believe me but I was right.”
Daichi frowns at his choice of words, but he doesn’t refute them. For once, he had to admit, Terushima was right.
Meanwhile, you’re trembling with unadulterated fear.
What, what is he doing here? Hadn’t Daichi taken care of this? Didn’t he save you? Why are they talking like old friends? This can’t be real… you must be dreaming… Daichi, he’d never… he rescued you!
By now, your vision is completely skewed, and your mind is in a whole different state of existence. You call out in confusion, begging for an explanation.
Neither figure answers you. While you think you’re forming coherent sentences, all that manages to leave your mouth is a puddle of drool and a string of grunts.
The world is full of colour and pitch black all at the same time? Are you flying, or are you sinking? Your mind whirls with the endless possibilities of your current physical state. As your vision continues to blur, and your mind starts to mush, you take one last glance at your friend.
Even now, standing beside your tormentor, he looks like a god.
Beautiful, strong, calm, and collected. Maybe it’s the drugs, but there’s something different about Daichi. Something you’ve never noticed before.
Like always, there’s an elegance to him. Even the way he stands screams ‘elegance’. Needless to say, he radiates power. Not only in his form, but in his mannerisms.
But underneath that, there’s a distinct aura you’d never seen before. One that screams danger, one that calls for your submission. It urges you to run away, to escape while you can – but it’s much too late for that.
You can’t seem to find your voice anymore. Your lips are frozen in place. Instead, all you can do is whine out your fear, doing your best to blink away a few tears.
Daichi frowns, it didn’t have to be this way. Why did you resist? Why wouldn’t you just love him? Why did you have to go and get a boyfriend?
You’d always seen him as your friend – your best friend in fact. Time and again he told you how much he hated Yūji – so why is Daichi standing there next to him? You’re rapidly diminishing processing skills can’t keep up. This has to be a joke… He has a good explanation for this… you know it.
Daichi was, and will always be, your protector. To you, in your hazy state, it’s nothing more, and nothing less.
But as he stands over you now, with a pair of handcuffs clenched in his fists, you start to see him in a new light.
If you had to describe Daichi as a colour, you would call him a navy blue.
He’s the kind of navy that draws you in on a hot summer's day – with the promise of a refreshing drink. The kind of navy that pledges you peace and comfort – the kind that will shade you from the dangers of the heat.
He’s the kind of colour you just can’t rip your eyes from. The kind that no matter how hard you try, you’ll never see the bottom. Similarly, once you dive in, you’ll find an escape.
His colour is a void.
The longer you look, the deeper you're drawn in. He’s the kind of colour that’ll trap you in it’s depth, holding you until he’s ready to let go. It demands control, just the way Daichi likes it.
On the other hand, Yūji is a bright, neon orange.
He’s the kind of colour that burns at your eyes. The kind that leaves you with a bad taste in your mouth and a roaring headache. Unlike Daichi’s, Yūji’s colour is eccentric.
It demands your attention, the pure saturation making it impossible to ignore. The longer you look, the worse you feel…
And yet, even knowing that, for some reason, you can’t look away.
Daichi and Terushima are a combination you’d never expect, not in your wildest dreams. But the colours don’t lie – blue and orange are complementary after all…
As they stand next to each other, watching you slowly fade into unconsciousness, you can’t help but notice how their colours mix to form a perfect shade of grey – a colour that lulls you to sleep with a false sense of comfort.
You wake up to a soft electrical hum. It almost feels like a repeat of your earlier situation.
W-where am I? What happened? How did I get here?
The same questions circle through your hazy mind. At this point, you’re convinced that you’re stuck in some horrible ‘time loop’. A groan leaves your lips as you try to take in the situation.
It’s a struggle to make out what happened. The last thing you remember is wanting to leave... Why hadn’t you?
Daichi, he convinced you to have another glass of tea… That tea! Is that what’s responsible for your memory loss, for your loss of consciousness? It can’t be… he’d never…
And yet, after you drank it, everything went fuzzy, you can barely remember anything – certainly not how you ended up here. Your lip quivers at the implication.
With blurred vision, you desperately try to get a grasp for your surroundings. In all your earnestness, you try to steady your breathing – it’s important to stay calm in a situation like this. Even so, you can’t help the panic that starts to well in the base of your chest.
The first thing you notice isn’t visual, it’s the physical pain stemming from your wrists. You’re not sure how much time has passed, or even how long you’ve been out, but you can tell you’ve been hanging all your weight on your delicate joints for far too long.
Now that you’re conscious, you’re able to stand and alleviate some of that pressure – but it doesn’t make up for the damage that’s already been done. A quick tug at your legs tells you that your ankles are being spread apart by some kind of shackle.
You want to investigate further, but you can’t really see in here, it’s much too dark. There’s no windows, just the flickering of a dim fluorescent, hanging just above your hands. Your hands. With your vision slowly returning, you’re able to make out how they’re shackled together, attached to the ceiling off of a chain and a hook.
Wait, you squint even harder at your wrists. Are those? Are those handcuffs…?
A flashback hits you with full force, these are- these are Daichi’s! You let out a weak sob.
Why is he doing this to you?
You resign yourself to weeping alone in this dingy, musty room, it seems like you’ve been caught after all. You never escaped, it was all just a lie – a beautiful lie…
“Don’t cry, Kitten.” You stagger backwards at the sound, at least as much as your chains allow you. You know that voice…
The figure that emerges from the shadows has your heart dropping to your feet. You’ve lost all the air in your lungs, as if you’ve been sucker punched in the gut.
“Y-Yūji…?” Your voice is weak and uncertain. The figure in front of you is mostly just a blur, 3-5 blurs in fact, but the glinting jewelry sparkling off of his tongue, and that signature hair cut… It has to be… No. This can’t be real… right? This is just a side effect of the drugs – it has to be.
As if sensing your confusion, the figure steps closer, helping your mixed vision to converge into one, hazy image. “That’s right, Kitten.” At this distance you can clearly see the wicked gleam in his eyes, and the shit eating smirk stretched across his lips. “Did you miss me?”
Of course you didn’t! You could go a whole lifetime without seeing his face and it still wouldn’t be enough… But you weren’t about to tell him that. Instead, with a weak and groggy voice, you ask him questions of your own. “H-how’d you find me?”
He chuckles at your response. You’ve always been stubborn, almost stupidly so. “It wasn’t hard Y/n, you’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”
His answer is hardly satisfactory, but you decided to press on anyways. “H-how’d you get in here?”
“The front door of course, duh.” You stare at him in shock. As the drugs slowly start to wear off, you begin to absorb the words he’s saying.
“The-the front door?”
He looks at you like a newborn, how can he not, you’re just so stupid.  “Jeez,” he calls out. “Did you hit your head or something, Kitten?” He knows full well that you did, multiple times in fact. After all, he was the sole contributing factor.
As if you’ve completely forgotten how you ended up in this scenario, your thoughts go to your captor best friend.
“D-Daichi!” you croak out. “W-what happened to Daichi? What did you do to him?!” Panic and concern lace your voice.
“Oh him? Don't worry about him, he’s long gone. He won’t be able to touch you while I’m here.” You shiver at his words, a lone tear trailing down your face.
“D-Daichi…” What’s happened to him? Your soft plea almost goes unheard.
Before you can ask any more questions, Terushima forces himself into your space. With one hand he grabs your chin between his thumb and fingers, and with the other, he lands a hard slap to your cheek.
The force of the strike throws you off balance. You’re barely able to focus on the pain before he grabs you again, landing a solid hit to your other cheek. By now, your face is stained with tears as you sob into the air. Upon the impact, Terushima opened some of the previous wounds he’d given you earlier. Small trickles of blood begin to mix with your tears.
“I told you,” he warns. “Don’t worry about him, only me.” Your cries only encourage him. “Do you understand me, Kitten?”
When you don’t answer, Terushima slaps you again. This time, he takes a step back, putting all of his weight behind the strike.
“I said, do you understand.” You can’t answer him, not verbally anyways. The pain in your head is unbearable. With your head hung in defeat, and your mouth hanging open – a stream of drool and blood dribbles to the ground. You sob at the soft ‘splat’. How did your life manage to end up like this? What did you do wrong?
Another slap brings you out of your thoughts.
The most you can manage in the way of an apology, and a simple understanding, is a small, pathetic nod. Thankfully, that seems to be enough.
When he reaches out for you again, you’re quick to whip your head backwards. The motion is much too fast, and you’re quickly forced to clench your eyes shut in pain. Everything's spinning. Are you seeing stars? Or are they snowflakes? Does it even matter?
Terushima sighs at your reaction. “You know I don’t like to hurt you,” what a lie…
“So why do you make me do it? Why can't you just behave, Kitten. We could have so much fun together.”
You don't know how to respond. Did you even hear him right? He’s delusional.
When Terushima reaches out his hands, much like the times before, you can’t avoid them.
Gently cupping your cheeks, he brings you forward to meet his lips. When they touch, it’s soft and sweet – something you’d expect from lovers. “See,” he coos. “If you just behave, we can have a nice time.”
His words are meant to sooth you, but they only make you sob harder. You don’t want this.
Your cries do nothing to dissuade him. Terushima just pulls you closer, running his filthy hands over your newly cleaned body. “This is a pretty dress, Kitten, too bad it has to come off.”
A loud rip echoes through the room as the soiled cloth falls to the floor. You cry out in hysteria, desperately trying to escape your tormentor.
With your hands restrained above your head, and your feet stretched with chains, you never stood a chance in fighting him off.
Terushima grins with pride as you stand almost completely bare in front of him. The only thing preserving your modesty is the cute lace panties you’d put on to surprise your boyfriend. You never intended for anyone else to see them – let alone Terushima. Not the first time, and definitely not now!
“These are too sexy for everyday, Kitten. I didn’t get a chance to look at them before. You must’ve worn them for me, right?” His stupid smile has you visibly cringing. “How thoughtful of you to remember that this is my favourite colour. You must really have wanted to please me.”
“N-no, it’s not like that… please-”
Terushima scoffs at your response, twisting your nipples between his fingers. “So you’re saying this isn’t for me?” His eyes bore into yours, “Such a dirty little whore.”
He lands slap after slap across your sensitive chest. You cry out in pain, begging him to stop – you can’t take his punishments anymore.
You sob in relief when he lets up his strikes. You’re grateful that he’s giving you a moment's break.
It doesn’t last long, soon he’s resuming his brutal pace. This time is different though, now it’s not his hands that meet your flesh, but rather his belt. You scream out in desperation and the cold leather licks at your sensitive skin. You can’t take it anymore, your body’s beyond it’s breaking point. He doesn’t stop, not until thin trails of blood drip down your body.
How can he resist? You’re like an angel when you cry out for him so beautifully. An angel he’s determined to steal away, to keep all for himself… promises and bets be damned.
“Scream all you want,” he teases, “No ones coming to save you. Not now, and not ever. You're mine!” Terushima’s deep chuckle does nothing but unsettle you. When you feel his hand dip into your panties, you almost wish he was beating you again.
You sputter out your words, desperate to get him to stop. “P-please, don’t do this! I won’t tell anyone, just let me go!!” Tears stream down your face as you meet your tormentor's eyes. Upon a deeper inspection, there’s not a trace of compassion to be found, only lust.
“Now, why would I do that, Kitten? Give me one good reason as to why I would let you go? Why would I set you free when I could have you all to myself? Do you think I’m stupid? Is that what you think, Kitten?” You cry out as he roughly twists your clit.
“Listen here you little slut, I caught you, so now, I own you. You’re mine, MINE, you get it? And as MY play toy, I'll use you however I want, take whatever hole I want – you’ll never be free. Understand?”
You sob as you feel his fingers slip your panties to the side.
Without any warning, he shoves his index and middle finger into your dry ass. The sting is unbearable, you weren’t ready, not even close. Terushima knows that, but your pleasure is the last thing on his mind.
He has forever to make it up to you, right now is about your punishment.
You watch through teary eyes as he rips his fingers out of your ass, and brings them up to his mouth. You shiver in disgust as he licks them clean before hucking a large glob of spit over his two fingers.
“Are you ready, Kitten? I wanna take that sweet little cunt of yours next.”
You scream out your protests, desperately wriggling to get away. “No, no, no, NO!” Terushima just continues to chuckle. “You’re so cute, acting like you don’t want this.”
Terushima brings his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. It’s a far cry from the romantic version you’d had moments earlier. This one is brutal – filled with nothing but blood, lust, and the taste of your ass.
Your cries of protest are easily muffled by his overbearing kiss. Even if he could hear them, it’s not like he cares. He wouldn’t stop over something as pathetic as your discomfort.
When he pulls away, your lips are left raw and swollen, it feels as though they’ll fall off at any moment.
Slowly, as if to torment you more, Terushima traces his fingers down your curves, teasing all your most sensitive spots. You shiver as your spit leaves a cool trail of goosebumps across your mutilated skin. You’d never admit it, but this isn’t the worst thing you’ve felt…
You visibly cringe when his fingers finally reach down between your legs. A pinch to each thigh has you wailing in pain. All the while, he never once breaks eye contact.
You almost shiver with pleasure as he runs his fingers through your slick, playfully teasing at your sensitive clit. A sick part of you almost wants this… You let yourself pretend for a second.
Just like it appeared, the make believe world you created suddenly vanishes.
All your ideas of pleasure and desire are long since forgotten. As Terushima roughly pumps his fingers into your cunt, all you feel is a searing pain. Terushima doesn’t take any time to prepare you, and why should he? You certainly don’t deserve it.
“P-please!” you cry out.
“Please what?”
“Please stop!” The tears won’t stop leaking down your face. “It hurts, it hurts so badly! I cant- I can’t take it!”
Terushima just groans out his pleasure. You’re so fucking sexy like this – squirming around, writhing in pain – all for him. The mere thought makes him want to cum in his pants.
“Wrong answer, Kitten.” As a punishment, Terushima brings his free hand down to pinch your clit. You scream in pain as he twists your sensitive nub between his fingers.
“Do you like that, Kitten? Do you like being a whore?” You shake your head, no, no – it hurts, it hurts so badly!
You clench your eyes shut in shame. With the way Terushima’s thrusting into you, curling against that soft, spongy spot, you can feel moisture begin to build between your legs.
Noticing your discomfort, he can’t help but smirk. He’ll never miss an opportunity to tease you like this.
“What would your dear boyfriend say about this? I wonder what he’d do, huh, Kitten? Do you think he’d want someone as filthy as you? A dirty slut who gets off on this? Yeah, you think so? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers? When I violate all your slutty little holes?”
You don’t answer him, you can’t. What would you even say?
Instead, you continue to cry – loud, pathetic, broken sobs. You feel helpless, pathetic. There’s nothing you can do to stop this… and do you even want to? It's hard to tell when you feel yourself clenching around his digits, when you feel a jolt of pleasure pulsing up your spine. With the way he’s pumping into you, it won’t be long before you come undone…
Unsatisfied with your responses, Terushima continues to rip you apart with his fingers. He’s stretching you far beyond what’s comfortable. Another slap to your face has you redirecting your focus.
Lowering your head, you clench your eyes even tighter, bracing your body for the impact you know is going to come – except that it doesn’t. Instead, there’s a loud smash before the sound of a heavy thump echoes through the room. You cautiously pry your eyes open, gasping at the sight before you.
Laying on the floor, directly in front of your feet, is an unconscious Terushima.
What-what happened?
Your whole body trembles as you bring your gaze up to meet the figure in front of you. “D-Daichi.” Your voice is weak and filled with pain.
It feels like Deja vu. How many times can an event repeat itself?
Even though you know, deep down, that Daichi’s the one holding you captive, trapping you against your will in this dingy old basement, you can’t help but look at him in awe.
He saved you. He saved you, again.
He frowns upon taking in your state. Your body is bruised and battered, bleeding and abused, The wounds on your face have clearly opened up, and there’s an unhealthy amount of swelling all over your figure.
It’s already too late to remedy, by tomorrow, your face will be black and blue with the marks of another man. The thought has Daichi clenching his fists in frustration.
Terushima. That slimy little bastard.
He’d broken their agreement, he wasn’t supposed to rough you up like this. Just scare you a little. Daichi never should've left the two of you alone… He never should’ve run out to take that call. He’ll regret it until the day he dies.
Without a second thought, Daichi drags Terushima’s unconscious body out of the room. It’s a scene the two of you are all too familiar with...
After that, it only takes another couple of minutes to clean up the pieces of the broken vase scattered along the floor. He doesn’t like you seeing such violence, but it had to be done.
When all that's out of the way, he devotes all his attention to you.
“I’m so sorry, little one. I should’ve been here to protect you…” Daichi takes the time to gently wipe the tears from your face before stepping behind you, carefully reaching up to undo your handcuffs. The skin around your wrists is rubbed completely raw.
You’re in so much pain that you don’t even notice the little prick of a needle Daichi places against the joint of your wrist. It’s just a precaution, to make sure you can’t run away… To stop you from resisting. That and to help you enjoy what’s about to come next…
When he finally frees your hands, your body falls limp in his arms. You think nothing of it, it’s not like you have a choice. But Daichi’s beaming with joy.
You trust him enough to leave yourself vulnerable – it tells him that your relationship is strong. He refuses to consider that your behaviour is due to the abuse you’ve just suffered, or the course of drugs running through your veins.
Once he releases the shackles around your ankles, Daichi picks you up in his arms, gently carrying you over to the ratty mattress tucked away in the corner of the room. You moan out in pleasure as the cool, soft fabric, rubs gently against your skin. Wanting to feel the sensation against your mutilated chest, you roll onto your stomach.
Without a care in the world, you bury your face into the provided pillows, unconsciously lifting your ass into the air. It’s not that you’ve forgotten Daichi’s presence, it’s just, for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. You’re all of a sudden much too hot.
Daichi groans at the way you’re positioning yourself. You’re so fucking beautiful. Do you know how tempting you look when you present yourself to him like that? You can’t be doing this on purpose… can you?
“D-Daichi?” You turn your head back to face him as your whimper out for your captor.
“What is it, little one?”
“I-I’m so hot.” Daichi quirks his brow in question, the drugs seem to be working faster than he anticipated. “Is that so? Can you show me where?”
You just flush, nodding your head the best you can. With a lift of your hips, you wiggle your ass even higher. Daichi just tilts his head, urging you to continue. You huff in protest. “I-It’s here Daichi.”
“Where little one, use your words.” He runs a gentle stroke over the soft skin of your back. You can’t help the lewd moan that leaves your lips. Daichi bites back a moan of his own, he can’t let you see how much you affect him – not yet anyway.
When you don’t answer him, Daichi begins trailing his finger all along your body. He starts at the base of your neck, slowly tracing your over your shoulder blades, and then down your spine. You moan out in pleasure as he reaches the crack of your ass. Just a little lower.
Daichi pulls his hand away before you can find what you’re looking for. You snap your eyes open and groan in frustration. Daichi just chuckles. “Use your words little one.” A quick swipe to your clit has you babbling like a whore.
“P-please Daichi, fuck. I’m so hot, my pussy’s so hot. I can’t take it anymore. I want you so badly.” Your pleading eyes meet his gaze. “Please, make me feel good.”
Daichi moans out his approval. “Such a good little girl. Do you think you can take Daddy’s fingers?” You just moan, nodding the best that you can.
Unlike Terushima, Daichi takes his time with you. Your wriggle around, thrusting yourself against his fingers as he toys with your clit. Daichi’s going painfully slow, making a pattern of linear strokes and sharp circles to your sensitive nub. “Does that feel good?”
“Y-yes. Please, please, I need more Daddy. Please let me cum on your fingers.”
Daichi just chuckles, rubbing his fingers a little faster on your clit. “If that’s what you want...”
It doesn't take long before you find yourself panting in pleasure. The more he rubs at you, the more pressure builds up inside you. It gets to the point where you can’t help but feel like you’re going to piss. It’s a telltale sign that you’re just about at your limit.
Daichi knows this. He can see the way your cunt clenches around nothing, just begging to be filled. Who is he to deny his favourite little slut?
Without warning, he shoves his fingers deep into your cunt. You hiss out in pain as he’s quick to move inside you. You’re still ripped from Terushima’s rough treatment of you earlier, something like that doesn’t heal in a matter of minutes. Even so, your body’s quick to dismiss that pain when he curls his finger to meet that special spot inside of you.
Daichi feels the way you clench down on him, he knows that you’re close. “Cum for me, little one. Show Daddy what a good little girl you are. I wanna see you cum all over my fingers.”
That’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. You scream out in pleasure as you feel liquid gush from your cunt.
“Oh my god, D-Daddy! Daddy, I'm cumming. I’m cumming Daddy! Please, please please please! Please fuck me harder! I- I can’t stop it!”
Daichi groans in pleasure as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. The two of you moan in tandem as you ride wave after wave of your orgasm. Daichi continues to help you down from your high, fingering your g-spot ever so gently.
When you finally come down, you’re coated in a thick layer of sweat and cum. Your legs are unbelievably slick, and the mattress beneath you is ruined. Neither of you care at the moment, both too preoccupied with the intensity of your last orgasm, and the promise of the next.
“D-Daddy,” you cry out softly. Your eyes are filled with tears.
“What is it, little one?” Daichi reaches forward to wipe the string of drool off your chin.
“I-I want you inside me now Daddy. P-please?
“Oh? But I was already inside you, wasn’t I?”
“N-no! Not like that.” You flush with embarrassment, momentarily burying your face into the pillow.
“How then? I can’t read your mind.”
“I-I want you to fuck me Daddy, I want you to fuck me with your cock. I wanna cum around your big fat cock, Daddy! Please!” Your lip quivers at the demand, afraid you'll be turned down. In all your frustration and desperation, you fail to notice the tears trickling down your cheeks.
“Shhh,” he coos. “No need to get upset, little one. You can have whatever you want. Daddy will take care of you.”
You watch eagerly as Daichi undoes the buckle of his belt, slowly unzipping the fly of his slacks. You moan out in anticipation as you watch him reach into his pants.
“Look away little one, I want this to be a surprise.” You frown at his request, but oblige nevertheless.
Daichi strokes your ass, gently toying with your clit. You visibly tremble as you hear him moan out behind you.
It doesn’t take a genius to tell he’s jerking himself off. A part of you is disappointed…  What’s he doing? Why isn’t he fucking you? Are you not good enough? Does he not want you anymore? The thought has your heart sinking.
You hear a loud ‘ptuh’ before you feel a wed glob of spit hit your cunt. Not even seconds later, Daichi’s forcing himself inside.
You bury your face into the pillow, screaming out in pain. It's too much, he's too big. Tears leak freely from your eyes as you desperately try to take his girth.
Despite his previously patient nature, Daichi doesn’t wait for you to accommodate him. Right from the start, he brutally thrusts into your tight little cunt.
You’re already so sensitive from your previous orgasm, you don’t know how much more you can take. When he bottoms out inside of you, pushing roughly against your cervix, you feel like you’re seeing stars. It doesn’t take long before pain becomes pleasure, and soon, you’re moaning like a porn star around Daddy’s cock.
As he brings you to the edge of your high, you can’t even begin to recall how you ended up like this. Instead, all you can think about is how he’s saved you, once again. That and the thick cock burying itself deep inside your cunt.
But what you don’t realize is that this is just another one of the duo’s plans to keep you complicit, to keep you vulnerable. Terushima was never truly a threat, not the first time, and certainly not the second. Daichi was always there, just waiting to step in when things went too far.
After he’s done with you, that’s when Terushima will have his turn… It’s not ideal, but Terushima lost the bet. As the rules dictate, he gets the sloppy seconds.
Despite everything, in a state of drugged out oblivion, you gaze at Daichi in pure rapture. As he reaches his hand down to your clit, your vision is filled with stars.
You cry out the name of your saviour as you tumble over the edge for a second time.
The clenching of your cunt has Daichi groaning in pleasure.
Fuck! It’s too much.
He knows he won't last much longer. In an effort to be closer to you, Daichi grabs your hair, pulling your back to meet his chest. With a few more carefully placed thrusts, he reaches the edge of his high. His erratic motions stop as he finds his release. Passion filled moments pass between you two as he spurts thick globs of cum into your sloppy little cunt. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, Daichi can’t help but leave a little bite.
You gasp in pain, desperately squirming in his grip. Hot tears slip from your eyes as he bites hard enough to draw blood.
Daichi wants everyone to know who you belong to, especially Terushima.
His breath tickles your skin as he slowly licks your wound. “Such a good little girl.” He coos. “You’re perfect for Daddy, you know that?”
As much as you want to deny it, his paise has you bubbling with a sick sense of pride.
Gently, he lowers the two of you onto the mattress. In your weakened state, you don’t even try to escape – not that it was ever an option. Daichi beams at your compliance. He knew you’d see things his way.
Pulling a blanket over the two of you, he proceeds to gently stroke your hair before showering you with a never-ending stream of praise.
With the drugs still heavily coursing through your system, it takes all the energy you have just to stay conscious. Daichi notices the way your eyelids start to droop and assures you that everything’s going to be okay.
“Sleep now Kitten. You’ve done so good. You made Daddy so happy. Don’t worry about a thing, okay? Daddy will always keep you safe.”
Safe. There it is again. What an empty word. As soon as you’re asleep, Terushima will have his way with you. He’s been waiting all this time, it’s only fair.
But you don’t know that, and you likely never will. You won’t be conscious – not with everything coursing through your veins.
Trusting in his words, you let go of all your worries. Deep down, you know you're not safe. How could you be? He handcuffed you, he’s the one who trapped you down here. You know all that, and yet – you can’t seem to find the will to care.
Laying in the arms of your lover, with his cock still buried deep inside, you make yourself a promise. From this day, until the day you die, you will forever worship this false god.
Thanks for reading!
See you in the next one
566 notes · View notes
arvandus · a year ago
Touch (pt 9) - Amity
PAIRING: Dabi x Fem!Reader
STORY WARNINGS: 18+ only please!  Drug abuse/withdrawal, adult language/themes, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, fluff, pining, slow burn, eventual emotional SMUT. *please pay attention to the chapter tags as these warnings will apply at different times*
CHAPTER WARNINGS: talk of killing, blood, needle/medical sewing; pining... lots of resistant pining.  Typical sensory overload due to quirk use.
CHAPTER SONG: Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish
Part 1   Part 8
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Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)
Part 9: Amity
Between your second night in a row of poor sleep and waking up incredibly early, it didn’t take long for exhaustion to find you again.  By mid-day your sensory overload had subsided enough that you collapsed into your bed, dreamless sleep dragging you under instantly.  It was short-lived, however; it felt like no sooner had your head hit the pillow, that a knock on your door roused you groggily from your slumber.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stood up and answered the door to see Toga standing in front of you, a bloodied washcloth held to her temple.
“Oh my god, what happened to you??” you exclaimed, as you let her into your room.
“I was out running some errands and a thug tried to jump me in an alleyway.” Toga replied cheerfully. She halted in her tracks.  “Oh… aren’t you still sick with the flu?”  She instantly covered her mouth and nose with her free hand, taking a step back.
“Huh? Oh!” you exclaimed. Right.  Crap. You forgot about that little white lie.  “Sorry, hang on a sec.”  You quickly went to your medical bag and pulled out a white disposable mask, placing it over your face.  “Is that better?” You asked, your voice muffled.
The tension in Toga’s shoulders instantly left, her posture easing as her hand dropped away from her face. “Yeah, thanks.  Are you feeling okay?  I could try to do this myself this time…”
You balked at the thought of Toga treating her own injuries.
“I’m fine right now, I promise.” You replied. 
The blonde shrugged and fully entered your space, although her folded hands in front of her body communicated she didn’t want to touch anything.
“So, a guy jumped you in an alley?” You asked.
“Yeah.  He was big, too.  And had a quirk that gave him extra reach on his arms.”  Toga explained.
You weren’t quite sure what sort of errands required Toga to be in alleyways, but you had a feeling none of them were good. The curiosity pulled at you - you could feel the question on your lips, but you swallowed it down.  When you had first joined the League, you and Shigaraki had discussed the importance of compartmentalizing your role from the others.  You were the only one out of the group who was defenseless after all, so as the weakest link within the League, you had both decided it would be best if you knew as little of the League’s affairs as possible, in case you ever got captured and questioned.  You were allowed to participate in general discussions regarding the League’s next moves and what areas were important to you that you wanted to focus on, but the nitty gritty details were kept separate: private meetings with other villains, locations, times, that sort of thing.  So, despite your curiosity, you knew not to pry.
Instead, you asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she replied, “but I can’t get this to stop bleeding.”
“Let’s take a look.” You gingerly removed the cloth from the wound to see a deep gash in the skin before new blood filled up. You placed the washcloth back over the wound before it could spill over.  “Hm. Better keep that on there.  You’re going to need stitches.”
“I figured.” She grinned. She took over holding the cloth to her head while you grabbed your medical bag.  You escorted her into your bathroom and had her sit on the toilet seat. Her outfit was speckled with blood, some of it from her wound, and, you suspected, some of it not.
“So…” you started, as you washed your hands in the sink. “What happened to the thug?”
“I drained him.” She replied cheerfully.  The casualness of her statement filled you with a confusing mixture of fear and pity.
“You killed him?” you asked, as you prepped your needle and thread.
Toga looked at you with her yellow feline-like eyes.  “He would have killed me if I didn’t.”
“Tilt your head back.” You instructed.  Toga did as you said, and you carefully removed the cloth before placing your fingers over her open wound. She winced slightly at the contact, but quickly relaxed as your quirk soaked in. 
Silence filled the room as you cleaned her wound with antiseptic and set to work.  The heavy quiet dragged on as your mind mulled over the girl next to you.  You had a thousand questions in your mind, but none of them seemed very appropriate to ask, not without upsetting her.  And despite your good standing with the League, you made it a careful point not to get on anyone’s bad side.  It wasn’t so much that you didn’t trust them, although a part of you was always wary around those who were willing to commit violence.  But you also understood on a personal level that the problems these villains had went far deeper than society was willing to acknowledge.  Mental illness, quirkology, environment… all of it played a role in dealing the hand that these outcast individuals had been dealt.
Minutes passed as you stitched up the cut and cleaned the blood from the sealed wound once more. You were washing your hands when Toga finally spoke, her voice soft.  “Are you mad at me?”
You paused to look down at her.  Her brow was furrowed, her mouth pulled into a sulky frown as she stared at her hands. She looked like a child waiting to be scolded, and in that moment, you could see how young she still was.  You gave a soft sigh.  “Of course not.  He attacked you, right? You had to defend yourself.”
You paused then followed up with, “I’m sorry you had to do it.”
“Don’t be…” she replied. “I liked killing him.”
Your hands faltered as you began putting away your supplies and Toga noticed. 
“You don’t like it, do you?” she asked, accusation lacing her voice. She was defensive, waiting for your judgement. 
You couldn’t blame her. No doubt her quirk was something she likely struggled with all of her life before finally giving in to it.  She had never given you her story directly, but it wasn’t hard to guess.  Everything about her – from her ramblings to her actions - spoke of a caged animal who finally got a taste of freedom and refused to be captured.
Contradicting feelings warred within you, and you struggled to wrangle them.  You had to admit, you hated the idea of her killing.  More importantly, you knew that her victims weren’t always street thugs, villains, or corrupted heroes.  But at the same time, despite this uncomfortable fact, you also understood how strongly quirks affected behavior, how it could act like a poison, messing with the mind and forcing its way into being expressed.  It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it; you understood it intimately.
You looked down at her and a familiar sense of pity unfurled in your gut, snaking into your veins, pulling at your emotions even as your core roiled at the idea of needless violence. She was just like him... a victim in her own way, despite the horrific things she did.
“You think I’m a monster.” Her words cut through your thoughts, and your attention refocused on her. She had her knees hugged up to her chest, her feet propped on the closed toilet lid that she occupied.  You mentally scolded yourself for abandoning her as you got lost in your head and crouched down next to her.
“No.  I don’t think you’re a monster.” You answered soothingly.
“Then why do you look scared of me?” Toga demanded. 
You gave her a smile that you hoped reached your eyes. She was more perceptive than you gave her credit for sometimes.  You had to choose your words carefully. 
“I’m not scared of you.” You explained.  “ But I am a healer, Toga. I see someone who’s hurt, and I want to take that pain away.  It’s what my quirk is. It’s a part of who I am and it’s what motivates me. So, I won’t deny that it’s hard for me sometimes to understand why you do what you do because it’s so opposite of how I am.”
Toga averted her eyes, her body tightening in on itself.
“But…” you continued as you placed a hand on her forearm, “I’m not scared of you.  And even though you do monstrous things, I don’t think you’re a monster.”
Toga slowly lowered her knees, letting her feet touch the floor as she stared at you.  “Why not?” she asked.
“Because,” you replied, “You still care about people.  You and Twice were the first to welcome and befriend me when I joined the League. And the way you take care of Twice… like he’s your big brother… that counts for something.  You even care about Dabi, even though he’s an ass. That was why you checked on him that night, right?  You treat each of us like family.  Now why would a monster do that?”
“But I still want to cut you guys all the time…” she confessed.
“I know.  But you don’t.  That should count for something.”
Toga smiled at you with teary eyes.  “You’re so nice, big sis.”  Her compliment made you smile. 
Toga hopped of the toilet with a nimble bounce, signaling the end of the conversation.  “Am I all done?”
You nodded.  “You’re free to go.” You announced.  Toga made her way to your bedroom door, but she halted when you called her name.  “Toga… don’t forget to change your clothes.”
Toga looked down at the bloodstains splattered across her school uniform.  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Thanks, big sis!”
She left your room with a jovial wave.  As soon as the door closed behind her, you slumped down onto your bed as you removed the white mask from your face and placed it on your nightstand.  Exhaustion washed over you again, deeper this time than it was before.  It wasn’t even so much due to your quirk since you didn’t have to use very much of it this time.  Instead, your mind focused on Toga, replaying the conversation.  It filled you with a swath of competing emotions; pity, anger, frustration, helplessness, fear.  The feelings swirled in you making a rank stew in your soul, old and familiar.
This was just like before.
You shoved the feelings aside, unwilling to look too closely at them. You already had enough on your plate as it was… you didn’t want to dredge up more of the past.  It would only add more stress and it wouldn’t change anything.
You laid down again in the hopes that this time, finally, your sleep would be nightmare free and uninterrupted.
 * * * * *
The withdrawal-induced restlessness Dabi felt lasted throughout the day, making sleep near impossible.  To keep himself from going crazy, he forced his energy into cleaning up his space, despite his typical disdain for chores.  He straightened up his desk, took out the trash, and most importantly, did his laundry. It was overflowing and stank of mildew, and he was in desperate need of clean towels.  His bed was no better, reeking of sweat and infection and covered in chip crumbs. But while his body appreciated the movement, the lack of mental power the activities required did little to distract from intrusive, obsessive thoughts.
He wasn’t sure which thoughts he wanted to avoid more - thoughts of his family or thoughts of you.  The memories of family were old and familiar, but the emotions in them were raw, threatening to suck him in and shred him to pieces like it’d already done so many times before.  But thoughts of you weren’t much better, at least not to Dabi. He didn’t like the warmth he felt each time he thought of you, and yet he kept going back to that feeling, like opening the fridge to stare at that last piece of cake.  He was at war with himself, and he didn’t know how to fight it.
Somehow, with all of his coming and going from his room, he somehow managed to never run into you. He wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but like all other uncomfortable thoughts, his forced himself not to focus on it.  It shouldn’t be important.  You shouldn’t be important.  His mouth pressed into a thin line.  The number of times he had to tell himself that were becoming too many to count, and it never did seem to make much difference.  
The cleaning only occupied him for so long.  Towards the end of it he found himself sitting in his room, waiting for his clothes to finish drying so he could retrieve them.  He had laid back on his bed just for a moment, to stare at his phone. He woke up an hour and a half later, his mind muddled with jumbled dreams and memories.  Cigarette smoke, a child’s laughter, the sound of himself screaming in agony…
He shook his head to knock the unwanted fog from his brain and grabbed a smoke to soothe the shaking in his hands.  The cigarette was gone within a minute.  The haze still lingered though as every inch of Dabi’s nerves hummed and his gut clenched in discomfort.  So, he inhaled a second cigarette for good measure and followed it up with an electrolyte drink paired with a couple of antacids.  His laundry was likely done now; no point in letting it sit there and risk another League member touching his things.
With the laundry dry and sitting on his bed in a crumpled heap, he stared at the contents, a frown on his face.  Your towels were mingled with his, and the sight of it filled him with an uneasiness that had little to do with his withdrawal.  It looked entirely alien to him, intrusive in his personal space.  His stomach gave a weird flutter before giving way to a wave of nausea.
Stupid, he thought to himself.  They’re just fucking towels.
He began folding the first towel. It was half-assed in its effort and one hundred percent intentional, as if giving careful care to your items would give away something about himself he wanted to keep secret.  But even as he did so, intrusive curiosity crept into his mind.  How did you fold your towels?
Idiot.  He caught his wandering mind and reeled it back in forcefully, but it did little good. His mind was a master escape artist, running away to explore other unwanted thoughts without his permission as soon as his mental back was turned.
As he folded your items, his hands slowed slightly in their actions, taking in the feel of cotton on his fingers. He watched as he rolled the soft material between his thumb and forefinger while memories bubbled forth, broken and vague.  Waking up in the shower, sitting on the toilet with your towel over his head, feeling of your hands working the cotton over his wet hair. He tried not to think of your face, but of course not wanting it made it appear in his mind.  He remembered your eyes, the concern in them, and the memory filled him with a warmth that he was still struggling to understand, even as he tried to deny its presence. 
It was short-lived – the memory of your tender gaze soon faded away to a terrified one, and now he was remembering your scar.  A new thought came into his mind then, dark and plaguing. The look of fear you’d given him that night - did you wear that same frightened expression on your face when you were burned, marked by whatever asshole laid their hands on you?
Dabi could feel his body temperature begin to rise.
The last towel was folded, and he swiftly grabbed the pile and shoved it on top of his dresser as if were contaminated.  Contaminated with memories, contaminated with you…
He faltered for a moment, his anger disrupted by that strange sense of guilt that gnawed at him.  The unwelcome mental picture of you cowering in fear as flames licked your skin danced in his imagination.  No wonder you had been so utterly terrified of him that night. No wonder you’d been unable to look him in the eyes the next day…
Dabi caught himself staring at your things and forced himself to turn around to finish his laundry. He folded his clothes swiftly, not caring whether or not they were done nicely before shoving them into the dresser drawer. Then, with his clean towels in his arm, he went into the bathroom to give himself that much-needed shower.
 * * * * *
You woke up feeling groggier than usual as the orange-red glow of the late afternoon haze filtered into your room. As predicted, your sleep was restless and riddled with hazy uncomfortable dreams that instantly began to fade away as soon as you opened your eyes.  You sighed in annoyance as dissatisfaction slinked across your tired skin. It was as if you had slept the entire time with your body tensed, ready to run at a moment’s notice, and now you were feeling the effects. 
You got out of bed with a stretch to ease the stiffness in your muscles.  Maybe something to eat and drink could lift your spirits and wake your body up.  You slipped on your shoes and opened the door before remembering to grab your mask off of your nightstand.  Then, you left your room to trudge downstairs.
The smell of pizza greeted you as soon as you stepped out onto the main floor, and your stomach growled in response, your mouth watering.
“Y/N!” Toga cheered. “Did you take a nap?”
You frowned as your hand self-consciously went to your messy hair. Was it really that obvious?
“Yeah, I was pretty tired.” You confessed, as you tried to fix your stray strands.
“Are you feeling any better?” Magne asked.  You could tell she was asking about the ‘flu’ you were supposed to have.
You shrugged. “Yeah, a little…”
“And how about Dabi? You were treating him too, right?” Magne continued.
You felt embarrassment bubble in you, and you scratched at your cheek as a distraction.  “He’s doing okay… I think it’s hitting him harder, though. He’s probably going to need some more time to recover.”
“He came down here yesterday without a mask and everything.” Spinner grumbled. “Then decided to take a stroll.  He couldn’t be that bad, could he?”
You shrugged. “Stomach bugs are weird and vary from person to person.”
Shigaraki’s voice surprised you from behind.  “How’s his burn?”
He knew about that…?  Maybe Dabi said something the day before.  Either way, no point in lying about it now…
“It’s doing well... but it’s not completely healed yet.”
Shigaraki grunted and grabbed a slice of pizza from the open box sitting on the bar.
“Hey, Y/N!  You want some pizza?” Twice offered.
“Yes, that’d be-“
“She can’t eat pizza when she has the flu!” Toga scolded.  “She might throw it up.  She needs something simple!”
Your heart sank.  No pizza??
“No, it’s okay…” you started, your eyes staring at the perfect slice.
“I’ll go make you something, okay big sis?” Toga chirped as she bounded lightly towards the small kitchen behind the bar.
Oh… oh no….
“Oh, um… it’s okay Toga, I’m not really hungry…” you tried to call after her, but she was already gone and out of earshot.
You fiddled with your hands nervously.  Cooking was not one of Toga’s strong suits.  Fortunately, Kurogiri was present, watching the exchange.
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t burn down the kitchen.” He commented, as he followed after her.
You stood there awkwardly, strongly contemplating grabbing the entire pizza box and running away with it. But you’d just had that personal exchange with Toga earlier, so abandoning her when she was trying to do something nice for you probably wouldn’t go over well.
Damn it.  You were too nice for your own good sometimes.
On defeated feet, you walked over to the couch and sat down next to Compress who was reading a book. He put the item down as you sat next to him and gave you a smile.  “How nice of you to grace me with your company, little flower.”
You crossed your arms and sulked into the couch cushions, wishing they would swallow you up.  “Toga is cooking for me.”
“Oh dear, so I heard.” He commented.  “However, Kurogiri is supervising her.  Perhaps this time it won’t be so bad.”
“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” You pointed out.
“True,” he laughed. “But perhaps you set your standards too high.  I never said he’d ensure that the food is good; however, his assistance may ensure that it is edible.”
“Don’t you use logic on me, Mr.” you replied, even as you tried to suppress a smile.
“Then perhaps a magic trick then?” he offered.  “As a distraction.”
“Sure.” You grinned.
A few minutes later, Toga came out with two steaming bowls sitting on a rectangular tray.
“Oh good! You’re still here!” Toga smiled.  “I made you soup!”
You stifled a groan as you stood up and stared at the contents.  It… didn’t look bad…. It looked like it was canned soup at least, which, all things considered, were one of the simplest things to make. Still, it had that a slight burned odor to it when the steam reached your nose.
“Why are there two bowls?” you asked.
“Oh!  One’s for you and one’s for Dabi.”  Toga explained.  Behind her, Magne chuckled at the table.  “He hasn’t come down to eat yet today so he’s probably hungry.”
“It was my suggestion.” Kurogiri stated.  “You are still sick after all, so it would be in the League’s interest if you and Dabi had your meals in your rooms until you are no longer contagious.”
“Maybe it can be like a little dinner date!” Toga added.
You fought the flush of hot heat that seemed to take over your insides.  “A what?”
The last thing you needed was the League thinking you and Dabi were dating.
The blonde girl giggled as she handed you the tray.  Her hands instantly went up to her hot cheeks, her eyes glazed over with infatuation. “What I wouldn’t give to have a private dinner date with Izuku!”
“Oh geez, not this again…” Spinner grumbled.
“Hey!” Toga shot at him.  “It’s rude to tease a girl in love!”
You were grateful that Toga was easily distracted, and you took the opportunity to make your escape. “O-Okay. I guess I’ll go take this upstairs then… Thank you, Toga.” You mumbled.
You walked out of the room quickly, the soup sloshing in the bowls and threatening to spill.  But you wanted to get out of there before things got even more awkward.  Toga wasn’t even the real concern – the real concern was Magne.  Her chuckle had not gone unnoticed by you, and she was a master conversationalist when she wanted to be.  The last thing you needed was more intrusive questions or implied statements, especially with everyone there to listen in.
You took the stairs instead of the elevator, not trusting the old rust bucket to run smooth enough with bowls of hot soup in front of you.
Dinner date.  You wanted to laugh.  Dabi certainly wasn’t the type to do dinner dates.  In fact, Dabi probably didn’t even date. He probably just hooked up with random girls whenever he felt like it.
Your stomach tightened into an uncomfortable knot.
It didn’t matter.  You weren’t his type anyway.  And he shouldn’t be yours, not with all of his baggage. And boy, did he seem to have a lot of baggage.  Besides, he didn’t need the pressure of someone pining over him while he struggled to keep himself together.  He needed someone he could trust.  He needed a friend.
You felt yourself start to calm as you centered yourself on that single fact.  He needed a friend. You could do that.  You’d already committed yourself to it.
You made it to your own room and set the tray on the floor outside your door so you could go in and grab your medical bag.  If you were going to take soup to Dabi, then you might as well treat his wounds and give him his pills.  It was about time for it anyway.  With your bag slung onto your shoulder and the tray once again in your hand, you went over to his door and knocked.
It opened and you froze, eyes wide, as a warm humid air wrapped you up in the scent of shampoo and body wash.
Dabi stood before you in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination.  Shit. It hadn’t even been a full five seconds and you were already staring at his crotch.  Hot embarrassment flooded you as you averted your eyes, only to get stuck on his glistening, bare form.  You’d seen him shirtless many times, had your hands on his body, even… but something about this moment was different.  Maybe it was the shower.  Maybe it was the simple - yet absolutely sinful - sweatpants.  Or maybe it was how he seemed to be carrying himself in this moment, like he was the king of his domain.  He was a living art piece, every angle of him stunning from the slope of his shoulders to the cut of his lean waist. Even his stitches looked beautiful, the light bouncing off of them like gems.  Whatever it was, Dabi seemed to be a thousand times hotter than you remember him being, and it left your brain feeling dumb as hot desire washed over you.
You were staring.  You knew you were staring but you couldn’t break the trance he seemed to put you in. Your eyes took in the cut of his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips.   Aqua blue eyes stared at you in knowing amusement, grabbing you like the tide and pulling you in.  You could feel yourself floundering beneath his intense gaze as you struggled to get a hold of yourself.
“Uh…” you stuttered.
You were still staring.
“Hey, Doll­…” He greeted, a playful grin on his lips.  His voice washed over you, and you felt lightheaded.
This was so embarrassing.  If he had any doubts that you found him attractive before, then he certainly didn’t now.
“Hi.” You said dumbly.
His eyes broke contact with yours to look down.  “Hey-” His hand shot out to quickly grab the tilting tray, soup splashing messily over the sides of the bowls.
“Shit! Sorry, sorry.” You cursed, as you adjusted your hold. You kept your eyes down, unable to stare at him any longer.  “Can I come in?”
Was that a chuckle you heard in his voice?  How dare he.
You crossed the threshold, only to find yourself even more smothered by the clean scent of his recent shower that permeated the entire space like a fog.  Beneath it, the faint hint of cigarette smoke was present, but it was muted.  The light in the room was dimmer than you remembered and you realized why – he had put one of his shirts over his shoddy lamp, reducing its brightness.  The humid warmth in the room was paired with a strange heavy silence.  Your eyes instantly checked his window and there was no billow of the curtains this time, no street noise coming forth.  Your breath froze in your throat for a moment as you realized – he remembered.  All the things that had bothered you this morning were modified for your arrival.  A weightlessness swelled in your chest, intertwining with the attraction you were still grappling with.  You set the tray down with shaky hands before wiping your sweaty palms onto your pants.
Dabi came to stand next to you with his towel on his shoulder, the warm bare skin of his chest brushing against your arm as he stared down at the bowls.  With his proximity so close and your own emotions running amok, it took every ounce of mental fortitude not to hug him right then and there.
“Did you make that?” he asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Oh, uh.. Toga did.” You finally said, as you moved slightly away from his bare skin.
“We should have let the tray fall.”  He stated as he stared at the contents with distaste.  You couldn’t help but laugh at his comment, and it helped clear some of the brain fog.  He gave you a soft glare.  “Why did you even take this?  You should have just said no.”
“Well, not all of us can be as nice as you, Dabi.” You teased.  “Besides, she wanted to do something nice for us because she thinks we’re sick.”  You explained.
“If I eat that I probably will be.” He retorted.
“Oh, come on… it’s probably not that bad… just a little smokiness to it.  That shouldn’t bother you, right?” You put a spoon into a bowl and handed it to him.
He gave you a deadpan look as you held the bowl against his chest, his hands refusing to take it. “I’m not eating it.”
“Hey, if I have to eat this, then so do you.” You glared.
“Like hell.” He replied. “Besides, I already have food here.”
You set the bowl down and stared at the bags on his desk.  “Yes, chips, beef jerky, and cigarettes!  So healthy.”
“The three basic food groups.” He agreed with a grin. He sat down in his desk chair, his legs spread wide as he slouched back.  It took extra effort to not let your eyes wander.  “Tell ya what, doll… you try it first.  If you don’t throw up or die, then maybe I’ll consider eating mine.”
You rolled your eyes at him and grabbed your bowl.  “Fine, you big baby.” 
You filled your spoon and raised it to him in a mock toast before placing it into your mouth.  He watched the motion in silent amusement, his eyes focused on your lips as they closed around the spoon.
It was awful.  Definitely burnt.  And the parts that weren’t burnt were overcooked, making the textures all wrong in your mouth.  You swallowed forcefully, suppressing a gag.
“Mmm… You look like you enjoyed that.”  Dabi teased.
“Hey at least I’ve actually tried it.” You shot back.  “So, I guess that means only one of us is a little bitch.” 
Dabi’s eyes widened, the light in them dancing in amusement, as a grin spread across his face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, doll?  You’ve been with the League too long.”
You pointed your spoon at him.  “Don’t try to act like you know me.  And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not dead.  So eat up.”  You picked up his bowl again and held it under his nose. By this point, you knew the soup wasn’t really that edible, but now you were determined to have him suffer with you.
The smell wafted up and he wrinkled his nose.  He pushed the bowl away back towards you.  “I don’t think so.”
You narrowed your eyes at him.  “You said you’d try it if I did.”
“I said I’d consider it.”  He replied. “It’s been considered and denied.”
“You’re an ass.” You pouted. “It really is awful though…” you confessed.  “and she had Kurogiri with her, too.  Like… how?”
“Kurogiri doesn’t eat.” Dabi replied.
You laughed.  “That’s what I told Compress!”
Your conversation was interrupted by a loud, hungry rumble in your gut.
A low chuckle rumbled from Dabi’s chest that made your heart pound and your flesh feel warm.  “C’mon doll, don’t torture yourself.” He said. “Why don’t we just go get a bite to eat. There’s nothing keeping us locked up in here.”
Toga’s words echoed in your head.  Dinner date.  Oh geez, if she or Magne saw you two leaving the premises together, you’d never hear the end of it.  The offer was tempting though, and you were pretty sure Dabi was starting to get tired of his snacks.  Junk food could only satisfy for so long; at some point he needed a proper meal.
But something nagged at you as you stared at the man in front of you.  He seemed to be doing okay at first glance… his recent shower certainly seemed to lift his spirits.  But you had been too distracted by his attractiveness earlier that you hadn’t taken the time to really assess him.  Now, you could see the exhaustion still in his face, could see the small wiggle of his leg and the drumming of his fingers on the table.   You checked the time on your phone – no doubt your quirk and the pills were beginning to wear off.  But how far along that was, you couldn’t really say; it was hard to tell with Dabi; he didn’t show his pain very easily.
You knew your appetite would disappear once you pushed yourself into sensory overload.  But Dabi couldn’t wait, even if he might try to play it off that he could.  More importantly, you didn’t want to try to deal with a withdrawal-suffering Dabi out in public. Your heart sank slightly. Goodbye delicious dinner, for the second time that night.
“…I should probably treat you first.” Your eyes landed on his bag of goods as your stomach rumbled again. “But maybe a snack would be good.” You confessed.  You felt embarrassed for asking, especially after the big show you’d just point on… but pride had to take a back seat before your stomach ate itself.
His blue eyes stared at you for a long moment.  You could feel your skin start to prickle under the weight of them.
“Sure, doll.”  He finally said.  He rummaged through one of the bags until he found what he was looking for under a bag of spicy chips.  “Is this your style?”
He tossed you a prepackaged muffin about the size of a softball.  You couldn’t fight the smile that blossomed across your face.  “Yeah, thanks.”  You opened up the wrapping and began breaking off pieces of it.  “You want some?” you offered, holding the muffin towards him.
He shook his head. “Nah.  Don’t feel much like eating.”
You broke off half of the muffin for him anyway.  “I still need to give you your pills, so you should eat something first.  Besides, this is too big for me to finish by myself anyway.” 
Was it a lie?  Of course. You were starving.  Did Dabi know that you were lying?  Of course.  But he took the other half of the muffin anyway.  You sat on the edge of his bed while he sat in his chair as the two of you ate together in silence for a moment. As you ate, your eyes wandered around his room.
That was when you noticed it.
 “Are those my towels?” you asked. 
Dabi looked over at his dresser as he stuffed the last of the muffin into his mouth.  “Yeah.  They’re clean now.”
“Thank you…” you replied. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details.  “You cleaned up…”
Dabi shrugged. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m not a complete slob.”
You stared at him as he began fidgeting with a pack of cigarettes, tapping the box on the table, flipping it over, and tapping the other end.  Over and over it somersaulted, and you wondered if he was craving one right now.  Why didn’t he just take one out and light it up?
Was Dabi… being considerate?
Then again, the action didn’t come as much of a surprise to you as it might have before.  He’d been more willing to do small acts of kindness ever since the night of his withdrawal.  Bringing ramen.  Adjusting his room for your sensory overload.
Now this.
Was it fueled by guilt? Or did he actually care?
He looked like he was waiting for something.  You watched as he rubbed at his scarred arm with his free hand, irritation flashing across his eyes.  Of course. He was waiting for you and your quirk. You ate your muffin faster.  As soon as it had disappeared into your mouth, you reached for your bag and took out the pill bottle.  His eyes were on it instantly, the shaking in his leg stilled by the sight of it, his shoulders releasing some of their tension.
“Here.” You offered, handing him his pills.  He took them and swallowed them dry before opening up a beverage and taking a swig.
Dabi eyed the bottle in your hand as you closed it.  “That’s looking awfully low there, isn’t it?”
You put the container back in your bag, enclosing it in a zippered space.  “It’ll be enough to last us through tomorrow morning.”
“That’s cutting it real close, don’tcha think?” he replied.
You looked up to see his brow furrowed in concern and offered him a reassuring smile.  “It is.  But I’ll be picking up the refills tomorrow before our evening session, so there’s nothing to worry about.  Now let’s take a look at your back real quick.”
He stood up and dragged his chair over to where you sat and straddled the seat with his back facing you. The bandage was still on, but you could tell it had gotten wet in the shower.  You’d have to be careful when changing it this time, since the bits of skin that were starting to heal might reopen.
You applied your quirk first around the bandages, then began to delicately remove the wet gauze and tape. Your fingers were cold on Dabi’s skin and a small shiver ran up his spine at the sensation of your touch.  The wound didn’t show any signs of infection or fresh damage, so you continued business as usual, applying the antiseptic followed by fresh gauze.  As you patched him up, your eyes kept drifting to your towels, thinking about what had happened that night.  There was something important you’d been meaning to ask him.  Something you had to know.
“I… have a question.” You ventured.
“Hm?” Dabi responded, his head turning slightly to the sound of your voice.
“The next day… after I helped you out that one night… was there anything… off?  About you specifically?” you asked.
There was a long pause and you could tell Dabi was thinking heavily, which only made the dread in your gut sink in deeper.
“I couldn’t feel anything.” He finally admitted. 
“I’m not talking about the pain.  I’m talking about… I don’t know.  Anything else.”
“I know.” He replied. “When I woke up, I couldn’t feel anything.”
Your brow furrowed and the dread hardened into a stone.  “…what does that mean?”
“It means I didn’t care about a thing, doll.  Everything was turned off.” He was facing away from you and in that moment, you wished he wasn’t – you desperately wanted to see the expression on his face.  Your hands felt clammy as you processed his words.
“You mean your emotions?” you clarified.  You needed to understand more.  You needed to know how bad it was.  “What… did it feel like?”
You finished putting the last bandage on him but you barely noticed as your vision became unfocused, your thoughts whirling.  Holy shit. You had turned off his emotions?  You supposed in hindsight it made sense, since it was likely his memories and the emotions attached to them that were torturing him that night.  Why else would he have been blabbering incoherent apologies as if he were desperately trying to atone for something? But still… the severity of that made your blood run cold. Emotions were everything, contrary to what some people might think. They fuel how people think, how they act, how they react… entire personalities – entire identities are built around how emotions are felt and how they are dealt with.  You very well could have entirely erased Dabi as a person. In fact, you likely did, at least temporarily.
You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and tried to calm your panicked breathing.  “…How long did it last?”
He was quiet again, and the silence was worse than anything.
“Please tell me.” You begged.  “How long?”
Your heart was racing and your ears ringing.  Your eyes began to sting but you fought it, focusing on a patch of scarred flesh on his back to distract yourself, memorizing its pattern.  You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again.  And certainly not twice in one day.  You wanted to apologize, to beg his forgiveness, but you couldn’t make the words come out, not without your emotions spilling out with them.  Instead, you forced yourself into action, treating his scars with your quirk. 
There was so much more you wanted to know. How did he get his emotions back?  What did it feel like? Was it slow, or at all at once? Did he feel relieved?
Did it hurt?
But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask those questions, no matter how badly you wanted to know, no matter how badly you wanted to understand.  They were too personal, and you could already tell by Dabi’s growing reluctance that he didn’t want to talk about it any further.
You’d apologize to him. At some point, once your emotions were under control, you’d apologize.
You finished numbing his back and shoulders, even tracing down his triceps a little.  “Turn around,” you instructed.
He did as you asked, adjusting himself in the chair so he was now facing you.  You avoided looking at him, the shame and guilt far too heavy for you to lift your eyes.  Unbeknownst to you, a frown pulled at his brow, his lips.  You wore your emotions so plainly…
You took his hand in yours and continued your quirk as your skin began to prickle and sting. The sound of the shower dripping in the bathroom was louder now. Dabi shifted slightly in his chair and the scraping sound against the floor was like nails on a chalkboard.  The odors in the room went from pleasant to offensive.
“I gotta question for ya,” Dabi suddenly ventured.  “Did you change my clothes that night?”
Your hands faltered and you glanced up at his face before you could catch yourself.  His eyes had a glint in them you couldn’t quite place in your distracted mental state.  You felt embarrassment creep across your skin.
“I did.  I had to get you into the shower before you combusted.” You replied as you continued to treat him, your hands on his collarbone. The feel of it was so familiar now…
“I was naked?”
“Only for a moment!” you replied.  “You were in your boxers for most of it, but I had to change you out of those after the shower.” God, this entire conversation was so embarrassing… why did he have to ask about this of all things?
“…did ya peek?” he asked.
Your mouth struggled like a fish out of water for a moment as you glared at him.  “NO!” You finally exclaimed.  “Of course, I didn’t!  Why would you even…”  but then you saw the grin on his face and you realized he was teasing you. 
You playfully punched his arm.  “You’re an asshole.” You fumed.
He laughed.  “That didn’t even hurt.” He mocked.
“Of course it didn’t, idiot. I already used my quirk there.” You shot back.  “Now stay still so I can get your damn face.”
“So feisty…” he murmured.
Shit.  With your senses heightened, you could almost feel the vibration in his voice, as if he were closer to you than he actually was. For the briefest moment, it distracted you from the growing pain of your scar, from the sound of the drip drip from the bathroom shower.  You wondered what it would feel like to have those words uttered against your skin, his hot breath warming your flesh, the feel of his rough lower lip brushing…
You clenched your jaw until you nearly gave yourself a headache, forcing the intrusive thoughts out of your mind.  You weren’t here for this.  You were here to treat him and get out of his space.  You weren’t his type.  You repeated it to yourself like a mantra, a prayer, a reminder to the illogical part of you that wanted to follow the lure of his voice.  Why did he have to be such a flirt?  It didn’t surprise you, but it certainly left you feeling confused when his actions and words sometimes contradicted themselves.
All it meant was that he was getting comfortable with you again. He was treating you like a friend, and friends teased all the time.  Right?
His eyes watched you closely as your hands caressed his jaw, relieving the ache there.  You seemed lost in your thoughts and while you certainly didn’t look comfortable, you also didn’t look too be too horribly in pain. You were doing better today.  Still, your fingers danced quickly across his skin, skating under his eyes which he instinctively closed, and barely touching his lower lip.  It happened far too quickly before the presence of you disappeared, and it left him feeling empty.  How badly he wanted to grab your hands right then and put them back onto his face. 
When he opened his eyes again, your own eyes were downcast as you stretched your fingers slightly.
“You okay?” he ventured. The question sounded odd coming from him, even to his own ears.
You looked up at him then, and you could see he was concerned. That’s right… he knew about your quirk and your scar now.  You clasped your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.  Shaking from the pain you were feeling, shaking from the fear of your own thoughts and desires.
“I’m fine.” You lied. Did he know you were lying with this too?
He knew.  In fact, you’d given him the same false words he always gave you.  It was like looking into a mirror.
“You don’t gotta do the legs.” He offered.  “I’m not dressed for it anyway.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You chided.  “Of course I’m going to do your legs.  The better I treat you, the better you can rest.  And your body needs rest to heal your burn.”
He noticed that you made no comment on his withdrawal, which a part of him appreciated; it helped him avoid the discomfort of shame that was always associated with it. Still…
“It’s not like I’m going anywhere, doll.  I won’t be needing them.  Besides, the drugs help.” He replied.
You eyed him for a moment, assessing.  “How about I just do your calves then?” you bartered.
He assessed you in return before he gave a small half-smirk.  “Deal.”
By the time you’d treated his calves down to the tops of his feet, you were definitely grateful you didn’t have to do any more.
You rubbed at the bridge of your nose, feeling the onset of a headache as you skirted just shy of overload. You closed your eyes, hoping maybe the lack of visual stimulation might make the auditory more bearable.  Or at least bearable enough that you could actually move your body instead of feeling frozen.  But it only made it worse, allowing your brain to hyperfixate on it. You covered your ears against it as you struggled to find your way out of it, to regain control of yourself.
While you lost yourself in your senses, Dabi watched you in displeasure.  He’d made sure to have everything ready before you showed up.  He even made sure not to light up a cigarette, as much as that had grated on him, since he knew the smell would linger long after. But clearly, something was bothering you.  What had he missed?
He watched, waiting, giving you time to figure yourself out or ask for help while he secretly tried to decode the mystery.  Your eyes were closed, your hands over your ears.  Was it multiple sensory attacks?  You flinched again.  And again. There was a rhythm.  So, it was something you were hearing.
Curiously, Dabi closed his own eyes listening for anything that stood out.  Slowly, the quiet sound of water dripping greeted his ears like a whisper.  He opened his eyes just in time to see your flinch match with the sound.
That was it.
“It’s the shower.” He commented. 
It wasn’t a question – it was a statement.  You opened your eyes and looked at him with surprise before giving a nod, your hands still over your ears.  He knew his shower leaked for a bit after he used it, but he’d gotten so used to it that he just tuned out the sound by this point.  But for you… especially after using your quirk on him…
Why didn’t you just get up and leave?  Why stay here if it was bothering you this much?  Obviously, you wanted to get away from it…
Maybe you couldn’t.  Maybe, for some reason, you were stuck in what you were experiencing, unable to find your way out.
Dabi could relate to that.
And he didn’t like it.
He stood up and closed the bathroom door before returning to sit in the chair in front of you, waiting.
You could still hear it. But it was manageable now, muffled. Quieter.  You could feel yourself start to process the rest of what you were feeling.  The pain on your back; the feel of your clothes, your hair; the smell of Dabi’s body wash, fresh linen… cigarettes.  Slowly, your hands lowered from your ears as you focused on each sense, identifying all you recognized.  The world was still loud around you, but at least you could somewhat function again. Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him watching you through an unreadable expression.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much.” You replied. “Thank you.  Again.”
“It’s fine.”
A heavy, awkward quiet filled the space, and in that moment, despite Dabi’s kindness, all you wanted was to be back safely in your room.  Maybe it was because you were feeling overwhelmed by your own emotions, unable to properly control how your heart pounded around him, or how you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, his expression unreadable yet his gaze intense, as if you were all that he was focused on and he was determined to discover all of your secrets.
Either way, you felt an ache grow within you, threatening to drown you. But you couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t dismantle it or bury it, not while your brain fought the senses overwhelming you. You could handle one or the other… but you couldn’t handle both.
You needed the comfort of your room; you needed your safe space.
“I’m… going to go lay down.” You said quietly, as you grabbed your bag.  It felt heavy in your hand.
If Dabi noticed the shift in your mood, he didn’t say so.  Instead, he stood from his seat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“Yeah.  Me too.” He replied.
Despite the suddenly aloof atmosphere, he still walked you to his door.  After you left, he leaned his back against the cold wood and ran his hand down his face.
So much for not caring…
Part 10 ________________________________________________
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marvel-sluts · a year ago
please don't go.
request: Can I request prompts 3. Please don't go & 16. Enemies to lovers with Tom Holland? 😊 - @palna (sorry it won't let me tag you)
prompt list
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pairing: Tom Holland x reader
warnings: swearing, emotional abuse, angst, fluff
summary: you worked with Tom on set and ever since the first day he hated you. one day he overhears a phone call between you and your Dad, making him feel horrible for how he treated you.
a/n: im planning on making a masterlist soon so look out for it! anyway, enjoy lovlies!
you opened the door to your apartment after a hard day at work. flopping onto the sofa and turning on the TV, not really paying attention to the six o'clock news.
that bloody Holland kid thinks he has the right to make your life a living hell. from the moment you met him he hated you.
you walk into the room flashing a smile to the people in there. you had been chosen to play a part in the new spider man movie. having quite a few successful movies under your belt you were well known.
you went round shaking hands with people, each one of them greeting you with a small smile and a hello. that was until you reached a certain individual.
"hi, I'm y/n" you say holding out you hand.
he looked you up and down with a grimace and looked at your outstretched hand, taking it in his and shaking it roughly.
"Holland, Tom Holland."
the buzz of you phone wakes you from your trance and you looked down to see your best friends name flash on the screen.
you quickly answer the phone and her voice can be heard throughout the room.
"sorry to bother you like this y/n but can we go out tonight? I had a shit day at work and need someone to take my mind off of it." she said.
"you read my mind, where do you want to go?" you ask, relieved to have an excuse to leave the house.
"how about the bar down the road from your house?" she said.
"sure, let me get changed out of my clothes first."
"okay I will be at your house in half an hour." she said hanging up the phone.
you run up the stairs and put on a black skirt and a pink shirt, touching up your makeup from filming and pulling on a pair of boots.
a few minutes later b/f/n (best friends name) rings the doorbell of your apartment and you go to greet her.
you reached the bar and grabbed one of the only remaining tables.
"so, what made your day so shitty?" you asked taking a sip of your gin.
"just my dickhead of a manager. he has given me about 5 projects and is expecting them all done by next week." she sighs rolling her eyes at you.
you snort into your drink "like your gonna get all of that done in such a short amount of time." you say.
"I know right. anyway whats going on with you?" she asked, knowing something was up. "is it that Holland guy again? I swear to god I will punch his nose in if he's done anything to you." she said, knowing how much he bothers you.
"there is nothing that you can do. he just gets on my nerves. I don't know what his deal is with me." you say.
"what does he do?"
"glares at me alot, won't speak to me unless its to criticise what I'm doing and just overall makes my life miserable." you say with a sigh.
"and you dad...?" b/f/n asked.
"same as usual, he still hates me and continues to tell me how much of a failure I am." you say rolling your eyes. your dad was a dick, you and him had never gotten on.
"I know, you just have to ignore him. he just doesn't see how amazing you are." she said smiling at you.
"I guess..."
after a few hours of talking and forgetting your problems. b/f/n drove you home.
after getting undressed you collapsed on your bed, exhausted. falling asleep within seconds.
you woke up with a start and checked your phone. shit. you had slept through your alarm and you were going to be late for filming.
quickly pulling on clothes and fixing your hair and makeup you ran to your car and got to set only 15 minutes late.
"oh here she is, finally decided to show up did you?" came a chastising voice.
you sighed, knowing immediately who it was, choosing to ignore the comment you walked to your trailer.
the hair and makeup team quickly got to work on you, making you look amazing within minutes.
after throwing a quick thanks over your shoulder, you rushed to set and got told what scene they were filming and where to stand.
half an hour later you heard a "and cut, great job guys. go and get read for the next scene."
you quickly checked your script and realised that you were needed for the next scene, opting to go to your trailer and wait to be called.
suddenly your phone rang, making you jump. you picked it up before checking who it was, assuming it was b/f/n.
"oh you've finally decided to stop ignoring my calls have you?"
shit, it was your Dad. "hey dad, and for the record I wasn't ignoring them. I was working."
"yeah, what job again? that acting thing of yours? how many times y/n, thats not a job."
"okay" you whispered quietly, just wanting this to be over.
"your such a worthless bitch you know that? even your Mum thought that before she died. it was probably you who killed her. admit it y/n. you killed her." he said, trying to press your buttons.
"how many times Dad, the doctors said that she died of a heart attack. it wasn't me." you say.
"pfft, your just covering for yourself. how about you buy me a new house to make up for it?"
"Dad, I just bought you a new house, and a new car. surely you can't need anything bigger." you say, knowing he is just using you but feeling guilty for saying no nevertheless.
"well I want new house, maybe somewhere by the sea. or some big mansion." he said.
"but Dad i was planning on giving some of that money to charity and the rest was going to s/n (siblings name) school fund. so that they can go to a good school."
"fuck s/n, I want a new house. and if you don't then you really would be as fucking annoying as your mother. your no good for anything." he said, hanging up the phone.
a tear trickled down your face. you should have known all he wanted was a new house, new car. why not get a new fucking kid while he's at it. you bought him a new car last month and a new house the month before that, surely he doesn't need another one.
a knock was heard on the door of the trailer that you had accidentally left open. you spun around to see Tom, worry etched across his face. he walked into your trailer.
"hey y/n, are you okay?" he asked, putting a hand on your arm.
"get off of me" you say, shrugging him off. "why would you care anyway, you've had this grudge against me ever since I started here."
Tom's face fell. "I'm sorry y/n I didnt mean to treat you like that."
"then what did you mean to treat me like because it was pretty damn obvious that you hated me. everyone saw it." you said.
"it wasn't you." he said looking down shamefully.
"look if this is about what you overheard with my Dad, don't worry about it. don't tell anyone and continue treating me like shit." you say, turning away from him again.
"no y/n what I overheard made me feel really guilty for treating you how I did. what I did was wrong and it wasn't your fault for how I treated you." he said, grabbing you and forcing you to look at him.
"then why did you do that to me?" you asked, confused.
"just before we started filming me and my girlfriend had broken up, she was toxic and would hit me and scream at me." he said, tears clouding his vision. "the day we started filming was the day I ended it with her, so I wasn't in the best mood. but when you walked in I could of sworn it was her. your hair and eyes are similar but your face is completely different."
"so from a distance I looked like her?" you asked, beginning to put the peices together in your head.
"yes. you had such a kind personality, always caring about others and everyone else loved you. but I couldn't get it out of my head. I guess that's why I treated you so badly, because you looked so much like her."
"Tom you could have just said something, I would have understood." you say, looking at him.
"I know I'm sorry." he said. "how are you, what happened with your Dad?" he asked.
"he keeps asking for new stuff, I just bought him a new house but he wants another one, and he wants a new car when he has the newest model. but at the same time he's always telling me how worthless and stupid I am, and how this acting thing isn't a proper job." you say, "maybe I'm just being selfish."
"no y/n, your not being selfish. I heard what you wanted to put that money towards instead of buying him stuff that he doesn't need. a selfish person wouldn't give to charity and help with paying for s/n schooling."
"are you sure?" you asked, doubt seeping in.
"very sure." he said, "is there anything you need, I could say that you are ill or something, give you some time to think over what happened with your Dad?"
"no I'm okay." you say.
"how about you come round to mine after work, we could talk everything out."
"yeah okay, I'd like that."
after filming was over, you drove over to Tom's apartment. he answered the door quickly and let you in.
you sat down on his sofa and admired the little things he had "borrowed" from the sets of different movies.
"do you want a drink?" he called from the kitchen.
"can I have a f/d (favourite drink) please?" you call back.
he came back in with your drink and a coke for him.
"look about what happened today with my Dad, I never meant for you to overhear that and I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone." you say, looking down at your drink.
"your secrets safe with me, and if you don't mind me saying. your Dad is a bit of a dick." he said, smiling kindly at you.
"tell me about it." you laughed. "he's been like that ever since I can remember, he's always favoured my siblings over me." you say bitterly.
"well don't tell them but I prefer you." Tom said, trying to cheer you up a bit. "and I'm glad I overheard that conversation, because it made me think about I had treated you. and I'm starting to think that there was maybe another reason I didn't like you." he said sheepishly.
"and whats that?" you ask.
"I kind of liked you. I still do. after what happened with my last relationship I was scared I guess but I don't want to fuck anything up. I really like you y/n, I never meant to treat you like I did but I was pushing you away so that I didn't fall further than I already have." he said, blushing furiously.
"well Tom, maybe I like you too. thats why it hurt so much when you were horrible to me." you say. "do you just like me because I look like her?"
"no no no, that's not it at all. I like you because you have this sort of aura around you, people love you and your so nice to people." he said. "I like you because of your personality, the fact that you look slightly like a toxic ex has nothing to do with it." he added as an afterthought.
"aura?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.
"yeah, people sort of want to protect the innocence you radiate. your aura makes everyone love you and it's how your smile brightens up a room and how you look when the sunlight hits your features." he said, gently placing his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.
"I'm sorry for how I treated you, and it's my fault, but maybe we can start again?" he asked.
"okay." you say smiling up at him. before pulling away from his hand and sticking out your own. "y/n y/l/n, nice to meet you." you say.
"Tom Holland, pleasure." he said shaking your hand.
you turned around as the shrill sound of your phone broke the brief silence, checking the called ID this time you saw Dad appear on the screen. you look over at Tom in fear, showing him the screen.
"answer him y/n, maybe he wants to apologise. and I'll be right here with you" Tom said, flashing you a reassuring smile.
"okay" you said picking up the phone and putting it on speaker so that Tom could hear better. motioning to him to be quiet, him nodding in response.
"hi Dad." the fear in your voice evident.
"how's the new house you were going to buy me coming along? don't forget I want a big one." he said.
"actually Dad, I've thought about it and I just bought you a new car and house. the money is going towards s/n schooling and charity. I don’t think that you need anything else." you say, smiling weakly at Tom who gave you a thumbs up. egging you on.
"I don't care what you think, I'm your parent and you should listen to me. you are such a selfish bitch I don't even know why I bothered with you." he spat down the phone. "you are just a waste of space and I don't know how you made all of this money, who would ever want to employ you?"
"Dad you're not guilt tripping me into buying anything for you like you did last time. I'm not doing it." you say, tears beginning to cloud your vision. Tom noticed this and put his hand on your leg gently. in order to calm you down.
"you're such a fucking bitch. I never want to see or hear you again." he spat, hanging up.
as soon as he had hung up the phone, tears started falling down your face. Tom reached up and wiped away some of your tears before pulling you into his chest.
"hey hey hey, it's okay calm down." he said kissing your forehead and pulling you back into his arms.
"he hates me and its all my fault." you choke out before collapsing into tears again.
"its not your fault, your Dad is just being selfish and is only using you for your money. don't listen to him." he said, stroking your hair to comfort you.
"do you want me to go and get you something? ice cream maybe?" Tom asked.
"no, please don't go. I need you." you say.
"okay, I'm right here love. don't worry I'm not going anywhere." he said.
eventually you fell asleep, with his arms around you and your head on his chest. before Tom drifted off he kissed your temple and whispered "I'm so sorry y/n, I love you."
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heyheyloki · a year ago
Loving Is (Not) Easy [1]
Summary: Sometimes the best thing you can do is take it head on and wait.
Spencer Reid x M!Reader
Word Count: 4876
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1. Sometimes, you need to wait.
The first time you met Doctor Spencer Reid was one that you wished happened under different circumstances. Although, if it did happen different, you highly doubt things would turn out like the way they have. You probably would never be living with him, never be able to be your true self, and never have found the man you want to love for the rest of your life. But, with any love story there will be always things in the way. Your enemy just happened to be time.
Around six months ago was the first time you saw him. He was literally your light in the darkness. He had saved you from a hell you couldn't escape for fifteen years. Over and over again you would wake up in that small room and the devil and his partner would strip you of yourself. They took everything they could from you, yet he was the one to give it all back.
It was around winter, the seasons turning as the green grass began to be dominated by the white fluffy snow. You were never really able to see it though. They wouldn't let you. The only time you got to see the outside was when they would remove the nails from the sheets that blacked-out the window from your eyes. You suppose you could always just try to tear the fabric down, but they would never let you back up in your room without your hands damaged. Too damaged to even touch anything. It stung.
You always believed that your life was supposed to be this way. That you would eventually die before you could even figure out how long you’ve been in this place. Before you could even know how old you actually were. Birthdays, time, those things were long in the first three years up here. After that, everything was such a blur that you barely tried to pay attention to it anymore. You believed in so many things, positive things, and yet as the time went on negative thoughts crawled inside your mind. You would never be able to experience love, or even get a job and normal social life. Something you have been deprived up ever since you came out to them about something personal. Something they thought was filthy and disgusting.
You thought for such a long while that it was your fault, and you still did to this day. Maybe if you had read the signs more you would have noticed. But what young boy notices that stuff? What young boy would think their parents are capable of such acts because of their sexuality?
You never tried to scream. Your mother always told you that if you scream then you’ll get punished. You never tried to learn what that punishment would be. Although, one day the pain was just too unbearable that you let out noise. Your parents didn't like it much. But how can you not scream as they cut open your skin? 
Even with the punishment. Even with the beatings. You think the only thing that saved your life was your scream. You only thank those who heard it, the neighbors. They were the ones who brought him to you. And you thank them every day of your life for it.
It was normal day at the BAU section of the FBI in Quantico, Virginia. The team there had received a case from the police in Denver, Colorado about a possible abusive household. Normally, things like this would be handled by the police only. Although, this case was proving to be more and more gruesome than they ever thought possible.
The team had collected in the conference room, the board lit up with two pictures. One of a man and the other a woman. They looked to be completely normal, normal people anyone would pass at any time of the day.
"Nicolás and Vanessa Perez are a married couple in the Denver area of Colorado." A woman known as JJ stated. She had short blond hair and fair skin. Each of those at the table had a conflicted look on their faces, especially since she didn't show any pictures of them as bloody corpses.
"What's so special about them?" Agent Aaron Hotchner, leader of the team asked.
"Well, they aren't dead for one. Although, neighbors have heard screams coming from the house." She said, her thumb clicking on a button on the remote she carried. A small window of video popped up and immediately began to play. It was focused on the ground, a sidewalk. Even so with not being able to see anyone, the bloodcurdling screams of a male was present in all of their ears. Screams that called out in the darkness when monsters are visible. Screams that should never be made possible. But, it was. Those types of voices were signs of clear distress and pain rather than fear. And everyone in the room knew that.
Once it ended, a couple of people let out a deep sigh. Their hearts speeding up for just one moment before putting back up the shield that helped them do this job.
"Do we know who that was?" Doctor Spencer Reid, the youngest of the agents asked.
"No one had any idea up until a few days ago when a neighbor took this picture." JJ said as she put up a somewhat blurred image of a young individual looking out the window of what looked to be an upstairs room or attic.
"We have any idea who the kid is?" Derek Morgan asked.
"No one can get an ID on him." JJ informed the team. Although, just as she believed they would hurry to Denver, Colorado, Hotchner asked, "I understand the severity of the situation but why did the police need us on this case?"
"Well," JJ muttered. Her thumb clicking a button once more as ten pictures of young woman popped up on screen. The youngest at eighteen while the oldest ranging up to her thirties. "All these woman have been going missing in the area where the screaming can be heard. Police there believe it is this couple kidnapping these young woman, but they have no proof."
"Wait, but the one in the picture there is obviously a young man." Emily Prentiss stared clearly for everyone to hear.
"Yeah, that does seem to be the case." Spencer Reid agreed, his hazel hues keeping on the blurred picture of the young man.
"Either way, I don't like the odds that boy has." Hotchner said, picking up himself and the items he owned from the circular table as he and his team moved out. The screams they all heard from that video echoing non-stop in their minds.
2. Don’t Make A Sound
 When they all reached the police station cops were running back and forth as commotion ensued the place. They looked around at the panic before picking up the pace to the one who calls the shots, the Chief.
"What's going on?" Special Agent David Rossi asked. He and his team watched as the police chief turned to them just after he hung up the phone. Some determination deep within his eyes, or perhaps anger.
"We just got another report of screams coming from the same house." He quickly stated. "I'm about to go visit the home again, you all are free to tag along."
Everyone quickly agreed, however, Hotchner was quick to leave JJ and Reid at the station to start up a profile for the unsubs. Meanwhile, everyone else traveled to the most unsuspecting home in the most unsuspecting neighborhood. It was one of those neighborhoods that would be in an ad back in the day that promoted the American Dream to foreigners. The clean cut green grass, the perfect two story home, and of course, the whit picket fence. When the team came up to the house and knocked on the door the woman answered first. She stared at them with narrowed eyes as she scanned all of the badges they whipped out for her to see.
"Mrs Perez? We have a few questions for you. May we come in?" Derek asked with the deep and silky voice that attract woman left and right.
"Sure," she stuttered. Her fingers scrunched against her thin scarf that hung loosely around her neck as she stepped aside for them. Each one that entered her home allowed another squeeze at her scarf.
As the officer and members from the FBI looked around the home, they noticed nothing out of the ordinary. It was a typically normal home with a normal living room, kitchen, even bedroom. When they all sat down in the living room to talk, Derek couldn't help but notice a door that looked to lead up to an attic. One that would have to be pulled down from the sealing. Thing was though, it had a lock. He kept it in mind as others began to question her. Rossi looking around at the picture of her and her husband along a table, as well as several items that indicated she was religious.
"Where is your husband, Mrs Perez?" Rossi asked. He stared at the back of her head for a moment before going back to the pictures when he heard her reply, "The store, we needed more food."
"Ma'am, we've been getting several reports now of screams coming from your house. Mind telling us what that's all about?" The officer asked, his brows furrowed more the longer he stared at her.
"I have no idea. It's just me and my husband, you see. We don't bother anyone." She stated calmly. Although, even with her calm demeanor, something about this woman irked Derek to his very core. He could feel it in his gut that something was wrong, and almost on some god-given luck a few noises--like footsteps--came from above. Everyone was quick to get a look up, their minds racing. However, when they looked back at the woman on instinct she said, "We have a raccoons nest up there."
"Better get them out soon, raccoons tend to carry all kinds of illnesses." Rossi said in a manner that was almost read as sarcastic, like he wasn't buying any of it. Although, even with the timid questioning, things began to heat up at an exponential rate when he saw a photo of a small boy. In the picture it was easy to say he was a cute kid. Smooth skin, full lips, gorgeous colored orbs, and healthy looking hair. The kinda features for a male that would mature into god-like looks.
"This your son?" Rossi asked. He held the photo up for her to get a look at when she turned her body around.
"Yes. His name is [Name], a sweet boy." She sugared, something about her honeyed words clawed at Rossi.
"So, where is he now?" He asked, walking up to the group once he set the photo down. He watched as she grabbed a hold of her necklace, a cross, as she said, "I sent him away. Boys like those detectives, they get a lot of attention."
"What kind of attention?" Prentiss asked, her arms folded over her chest.
"Attention one boy should not be getting from another." She hissed out. Her hatred now clear for everyone to see. Her dark eyes scanned the room before her voice became strong, more stern. "How would you feel if your son was kissing other boys?"
"I wouldn't care." Hotchner quickly stated, his own eyes burning with hatred as well. However, his hate was targeted somewhere different. "What did you do to him?"
She stared at Hotchner for a moment. Her eyes twisting into something that made his stomach turn at what she could have done to her own son. Then, a moment later, she raised her chin and said, "Somewhere better. Somewhere where he can learn god's will and fix his devil like face."
After the interrogation at the Perez house, the team went back to the station where Reid had been fixing up a board that helped him classify the unsubs.
"Whatcha got, pretty boy?" Derek asked with a small smirk. He saw Reid turn around with a sorta mocking face for a split second before getting into his findings.
"The only connection I could find between the missing woman was that they are all between the ages of eighteen and twenty, not only that but after about a week they are discarded and replaced." Reid started out saying, thoughts now running through his family's minds when he said, "It was almost like they were defective to them in some way."
Derek was the first to speak his mind, even if he didn’t like the conclusion he and many others were coming up with only after meeting the wife once. “When we went there, she went on about sending her son to a ‘better place’ where he can ‘fix himself’. If her and her husband have him and are taking these women, is it a stretch to say that they’re taking these women for him?”
“Well, why would they be doing that?” JJ asked. “I mean, you guys said that it sounded like their son was homosexual.”
“He can still be.” Rossi said, “but the parents think they can fix his sexuality by forcing these women onto him and when they don’t..”
“They’re killed and replaced,” Hotchner finished, his eyes scanning the board before saying aloud, “let’s go give the profile.”
3. Escape Never Looked So Easy
You’ve known this place most of your life and for the longest time you could remember a new girl coming to visit you every week. No, visit isn't the right word. More so forced to see you. You knew what was going on as you got older and you knew the first thing you had to do was help these women in anyway you could. Over and over again you have failed in ways that no one would ever understand. However, you were determined to help this one. You had too. Not only for a lofty sense of justice and pity, but since it was also your chance. She could help. Go to the police. The FBI are here now, they will help you.
"It'll be okay, I promise." You whispered to a scared woman who hugged her knees in her chest. The tears down her face wouldn't stop, staining her pale cheeks. Her wobbly eyes gazed up at you, staring at every possible scar that they left on your face.
"How do you do it?" Her brittle voice asked. Her head leaned to the side as her eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.
It was weird to be asked such a question, but not an uncommon one. They all ask it eventually, and you guess at some point in time you found the answer.
"I.. learned to adapt." You muttered out, your own head leaning downward as you stared at the rotting wooden floorboards. It was quiet for a moment, but you could still feel her eyes curiously watching you. Searching you.
"H-How long have you been up here?" She stuttered, almost scared to know the answer.
This time it was your turn to mirror her look of confusion. You could always tell when it was night and day, when the seasons chance, but you never have been able to count the years that have gone by. That was always the hard part.
"Don't know," You uttered, your voice soft and vulnerable. "All my life, I suppose."
Looking back, all you remember is this place. This way of living. You truly believe the only thing that kept you from believing this was okay in anyway was the books your father sneaks to you. He ended up doing it for as long as you could remember, but after some time whenever she would leave the house he would come up here. He'd teach you things, tend to my wounds, even apologize.
One time, he even tried to help you escape. A while ago, after they put up the tarp so the neighbors couldn't see you from the attic, he left the nails very loose in the wooden boards along the wall. It was easy for you to take it off without making too much noise. The jump down wasn't much given how it's only a two story home and the land would be in some bushes, but she tends to be more concerned with locking you away from the world. Father said it was so you don't 'act on the devil's desires'.
That sentence never did make sense to you. As much as you believe in your own intelligence, you could never wrap your head around it. After all, how would you be acting on the 'devil's desires' when she calls you the devil in disguise. Wouldn't it just be your own desires then? And even so, what's so wrong about desires? That's what makes an individual, otherwise wouldn't we all just be the same?
Father told you it started off with my looks. She believes you’re not their child, and he predicts that's how she can act so monstrous towards you. She apparently used to tell him about how the devil is supposed to be depicted as a handsome man, one with radiant features and charism so he can make others sin. She was always scared of you, of how you would look when you grew older. But, the moment she caught you innocently giving a kiss to a boy, she snapped.
She tells your father that they are ridding great evil from the world. Not so much about protecting you, fixing you. But more about protecting other people, helping other people. She used to call priests all the time when you were younger, but they stopped coming after some time. Your father thinks it has something to do with the fact that she didn't want the priests to see the scars on your face.
The first one she placed on you was on your left bottom lip. It drags from your lip to a little on your chin. It's noticeable, that's for a sure, as well as jagged. Over time, the cuts got smoother. The latest was under your right eye. It was curved to match my eye socket as well as wide more in the middle before riding off. All the other scars just happened to be on your body. Chest, back, legs, arms. She wanted to make sure that you were no longer the devil she imagined. After all, if your face was no longer sinful, if your handsome features were cut up, who would think of you as even the least bit attractive?
You only snapped out of your own thoughts when the girl across from you tapped on your shoulder. Your eyes quickly met hers that were filled with some kinda new strength while you felt wetness stream down your face.
"We're gonna get outta here. Both of us." She said to you. It was the first time someone had offered to take you with them. The first time that they didn't just care about their own escape. Although, you never blamed them.
"Y-Yeah," You stuttered, your voice cracking the longer she stared at you.
However, you decided at this point it would be best to just focus on her. She was more in danger than you were, so, you told her a plan. One that was full proof as long as that woman is out of the house.
"I can't take the tarp down, nevertheless open the window with my hands." You informed her. She guided her eyes to your shaky hands that where riddled with scars and bruises. Some cuts open with dried blood the only thing keeping the wound shut. "They haven't hurt you like they have me yet. So, it's up to you."
"How will I know she's gone?" The girl asked.
"She will be soon. This is the time of the day that she goes out for more supplies. It will take her at least twenty minutes." You informed her. Your head dropping for a second before saying softly, "Get back here with those FBI guys before then."
"Why?" She asked curiously.
You never did answer that question. It was your least favorite of all questions, especially when the answer most of the times is so easy to figure out.
4. God Sent Me An Angel
Fifteen minutes. That's how long she's been gone for. As much as you hope she would bring those people back, you wouldn't blame her if she just ran for the hills. Something like this, it would scare a lot of normal people. Though when does something scary turn into another person's normal? After time? You suppose that could be one answer; maybe even the only answer.
You think it was in a book you read stated that faith could be something of salvation and yet could lead someone onto the highway to hell. You truly believe that is where she will go after she dies, and you do hope that she realizes the truth. The single truth that you are not the devil in disguise. That you are not a sinner. That you are not Satan himself.
It was so quiet, quiet enough to hear your own breathing as it entered through your nose and out your mouth. Your breath laid still in the air, visible by the cool air that surrounded the attic. There wasn’t a heater in there, so the temperature was determined by the weather on the outside. 
One minute. Two minutes. You felt like you had started counting the seconds, lost so much in your head that you didn’t hear anything until the sound of clanking wood rang loud in your ear drums, infecting your brain.
You whipped your head around and stared blankly at the only exit or entrance of this hell besides the now broken window. Although, you had heard the sound so many times before that it was normal, most of the time you wouldn't even go to look. But this time you wanted to see, you wanted to look to see if the true devil was going to look you in the eyes or maybe perhaps it would be an angel himself.
However, you heard no sirens. Heard no new voices or those of those men before. So, the moment you saw the light shine from the house into the attic, you knew you would be staring into the eyes of the devil. And you did.
You knew the moment you saw the disembodied look on her face that my fate was sealed with a bloody end. Perhaps now your suffering can end, maybe now you can actually get some peace.
"Get over here, boy!" She yelled, her words like poison. Yet you hoped in that moment that when she wrapped her hand around your wrist that you would be let to your salvation. Maybe when you die you would see the pretty stars, the beautiful moon that somehow gave you a sense of hope in that dark and cold attic.
Her grip was solid and terrifying, although the fear you had for that woman died a long time ago when she started to slash your face. You couldn't see your father for miles, you had just assumed in that moment that perhaps she killed him as well, just like with all the other woman before. The ones you failed to save but each made a vow to, one they wanted you to keep before they met their end.
It wasn't until you both went into the kitchen and found yourself in the spot that she makes a mess with your body that you felt something. It wasn't so much fear or anger, but more so hope. It was the hope that this never ending nightmare would finally come to a close, that you would finally wake up.
"Sirens.." You muttered to yourself, your voice soft like that of a childs. You watched as her face contorted in fear when some men began to pound on the door and claim to be with the FBI.
When the door was busted down she pulled you close to her and held an object close to your neck, yet before it all she managed to grab the nearest bag and place it over your face. Essentially, even to the end she would rather hide me from them all entirely. With your vision gone, all you had was sound and touch to go one.
"Put the knife down!" You heard a man yell. You could remember him as one of the men that came here the other day.
"Mrs. Perez, let the boy go." A soft voice spoke. You couldn't explain why it was silky and not as deep as the other but gave you a sense of calmness. You could tell you would be fine in that moment, and believed it more than the entire universe.
"I'm not letting such evil into the world! None of you understand! He's the devil himself!" She screamed, the knife's sharp edges more prominent against your neck. You didn't make a sound though. You thought maybe you could get punished if you did.
"Why do you believe that?" The man with the calming voice asked. You could tell he was trying to calm her down to let you go.
Her firm grasp on your shoulder suddenly grew tighter, you believed she could shatter your bones if she really wanted to. "Everything about him. He's a sinner, he makes other people sin." She whispered, "He doesn't look like me or my husband."
"You think he's the devil because of his looks?" He asked.
It was silent for a second before she uttered, "I know he is because of his looks. I tried, I tried so hard to make it so he wouldn't make others sin. So he wouldn't spread such evil into this world."
"Why don't you tell me all about it after you hand him over?" He asked. You could tell all of his words were lies. "If.. If he's in custody with the FBI then he won't be able to spread the evil you speak off."
"Could I.. get rid of him?" She muttered. It was quiet, so quiet that all you could hear was your own breathing until you felt the hand on you shoulder slowly loosen. The knife around your neck moved around and before you knew it you could feel a pair of gentle hands on your upper arms.
You could hear the shuffling next to you and the jiggle of metal as they cuffed the woman next to you. It wasn't until you heard those footsteps echo off into the distance that the one in front of you asked, "Are you alright?"
You only nodded. It wasn't that you had an issue with talking or something, you just didn't want to at the moment.
"I'm gonna take this off, okay?" He asked. Your mind guessed he was taller than you and looked up an inch in turn. It was the first time that someone asked permission to do something to you.
You nodded again and once you did the crinkling the bag ran loud into your ears as the darkness you saw turned into light. When you opened your eyes, you stared at the man in front of you. He was young, maybe in his early or mid 20s. His chestnut hair was on the longer side and did this cute thing were it got curly on the ends. It reached down to his jaw that was sharp. He had pale skin, and had these eyes anyone could get lost in. They were sweet, something you haven't seen in anyone but those woman and your father at times.
The both of you stared at one another for an extended period of time. While you admired the man's features, you thought perhaps he was in shock at how hideous you look. Between the scars and such, you wouldn't be surprised if he thought that. However, the more you looked into his eyes, the more the idea of disgust was pushed from your mind. It was like that emotion wasn't even present as he stared at you.
Though, when he snapped out of his daze, he looked back on his game.
"Hey, there," he uttered calmly. "My name's Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI, you're gonna be okay, you understand?"
You nodded your head again. You could tell he probably thought you were mute or something so when he started to move away you said aloud, "[Name]."
He was quick to move his head around back at you. The expression on his face was one of shock. He was truly baffled you were speaking, which made you almost retract. Although, I didn't.
"What was that?" He asked in confirmation.
"[Name]." You said more firmly, my natural deeper tone coming through. "That’s my name, since we’re sharing."
This time it was his turn to nod his head a bit, but at the same time, he smiled. It was softer and showed no teeth, but a smile nonetheless. It somehow softened you a tad, almost made you feel vulnerable to an extent. However you knew that it probably had something to die with the fact that he saved your life.
"We're gonna take you somewhere safe. Is that okay with you?" He asked. The second time someone has asked your permission. It truly felt wonderful. It was almost like you mattered, like your feelings were valid.
"Sure," you said. It was at this moment that your turning point would occur and you would be be allowed the freedom to do what you pleased. Something you were deprived of for over fifteen years.
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ghostypeppers · 5 months ago
2021 is coming to a close soon and there's just...so much I want to say.
2020 was a rough year for me. Ok well, it was rough for everyone, but in terms of very specific life situations—yeah, it sucked hard.
We had just gotten out of an abusive living situation my dad had foolishly thrusted us into for 4 years straight. I had to finish the first half of senior year trying to pretend my life wasn't falling apart around me. I had to drop my advanced English class and switch to a lower leveled one just so I could MAYBE graduate.
Two of my dogs died only a month or two apart. It still hurts, especially when one of their deaths was not at all expected. I'm still convinced she fucking murdered our dog on purpose.
I was still processing my relationship traumas, my identity, and just... everything. Halloween was miserable. Christmas was miserable. Things just kind of sucked for a while.
But I will say that this year was certainly a lot better. In around February/March, we finally moved into the new house my dad had been hyping me up about. I wasn't mentally stable during the packing process, but I was just happy we were finally getting a new start and hopefully my father wouldn't thrust himself into a new relationship and just...enjoy being single? At least for now.
In March, I got into Happy Tree Friends from a friend who was only fixated on it for roughly a month. I ended up making that fixation last the rest of the year. I made a lot of new friends, lost one of them, and then stumbled into a kind of community I never thought I would have ever grown.
This was the year I really started making money off of my work. Still isn't enough to live off on my own, but it was one hell of a result comparatively.
I got to graduate highschool through the skin of my teeth (being the first from BOTH parents to, which was a huge flex for me personally), and in October I actually started a project and finished it on time. That was unheard of for me. I landed a spot in a film collection organized by a content creator I really enjoyed, and THAT was really cool.
I think that's where most of the good ends? Granted it's still a lot better than last year was. Still...most of this year was just me processing. Processing the shit I went through for the past 4 years (now the 1st anniversary of leaving has since past). Processing why things happened the way it did, how I felt during that hopeless situation, how I still resent the people who forced me there when I should have been able to just leave.
I learned that, as an individual human being, I deserve agency as much as other people do. I shouldn't have to tolerate horrible people just for the sake of somebody else. I shouldn't have to sacrifice my time and energy on someone who doesn't care enough to do the same for me. I shouldn't have to let people invade my boundaries, or make me feel unsafe/uncomfortable, or demand that I read their mind while talking to me in a patronizing passive aggressive tone.
Online, I block liberally now. I don't care if it hurts your feelings anymore. If you make me feel unsafe, I'm taking you out of my life as soon as I can. I can block whatever tags I want to. I can pull myself out of social situations I don't want to be in. And I don't care if any of this makes me look bad, I'm sick of hurting myself just so that one more person can tolerate me just a little bit longer. I'm so ill from all the dishonesty in my life. I shouldn't have to play Mindgames in order to figure out how you feel about me. And you shouldn't guilt trip or target my friends just because you don't have the balls to confront me directly. I've done that song and dance before! My second-last serious relationship ended that same way, and that relationship made me look at myself for a long time. Mostly because that person made me feel bad for wanting to have a little bit of alone time while they proceeded to openly mock me and refuse to tell me they didn't want to be friends in the first place, when that's all they had to do. That was the relationship that finally had me look into the aromantic label, and I realized I was forcing myself into (romantic) relationships in order to achieve happiness, a form of it in which was not achievable for me. I found that I'm much happier in platonic relationships far more than a single romantic one.
But. Still. Even if I was incapable of loving a certain way, that did not justify the way I was treated when I tried to mend things back into shape.
I'm not going to let that happen again. I almost DID let it happen again. But no. Fuck you. I can only tolerate being treated like shit long enough, but the minute you thrust my innocent friends into a situation they have no right being in, that's when it gets personal. Calling it a "pet peeve" is an understatement. If you harass my friends over some dumb petty bullshit, I will not stand for it. Because my friends mean the world to me. There's a reason I even hesitate to vent to my friends half the time—because as far as I'm concerned—there are a LOT of things in my life that they simply cannot control! And I'm not going to make them feel guilty about it. Some things in life don't need an active audience to witness, and I hope people realize that.
Now that I'm done grieving over the life that could have been, next year is going to be my wrath year. Next year is going to be my "not taking bullshit sitting down" year. I've been hurt too many times to allow myself (or the people I care about ESPECIALLY) to be hurt again. I'm straight up biting people who make me or my friends uncomfortable. I'm no longer going to be nice to people who don't deserve it. I'm no longer going to offer an olive branch that you refused to accept the first time. I'm just going to punch you instead.
If we became friends this year (or have been friends for a while), I just want to tell you all how much you mean to me. Even if we don't talk much anymore. Because the truth is, it's hard for me to manage every single personal relationship I have. I wish I had all the social energy in the world to be with every single one of you 24/7. But I'm only human. Still, don't let that stop you from DMing me. You're still my friends, after all. I sometimes fear that people secretly hate me, so I still have the unhealthy habit of self isolation I need to work on.
But. If you really do care, then reach out. It doesn't have to be today or tomorrow, but...just let me know. At least once. I love you all more than I know how to properly express. /P. /Gen.
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growing-yet-into-magic · 7 months ago
Hello! I'm Steph, it's nice to meet you!
I was wondering if you could possibly help me with a protection & banishing spell? My fiance & I have been experiencing a lot of negative energies & it seems there's no way to get away. Thank you.
Hey, nice to meet you!
So, as far as getting rid of negativity goes, you might want to determine if it's something you think is attached to you, or attached to your house. The reason I mention it is if you think it's something you, say, carried home from work, a bath with sea salt, rosemary, and a citrine should help take care of it. If it's less targeted than that, and it's sort of just floating around in the house, I would recommend fumigating the house with dry rosemary or frankincense, and putting an iron nail in each of the far corners of your house. Wipe your windows with 50/50 lemon juice and vinegar on a cloudy day and finish by drawing a pentacle on each window.
(You can technically do this on a sunny day too, but if you do it on a cloudy day, it leaves fewer streaks.)
I tend to do double-headed cleansing and protection spells, where I just...do both things at both times. It makes distinguishing the two hard for me since I just don't practice identifying individual parts of my spells. Still, from what I can tell from plucking through the very large Judika Illes spell tome, the main recommendations I can provide from here seem to be 1) washing your wardrobe with a cleansing scent of choice 2) washing your house and 3) warding your home and your person with a ward of your choice.
And honestly, wards come in a very large variety of shapes, sizes, and anchors, so I'm just going to tag my overall Protection Magics tag and invite you to peruse! If you want something more specific to your needs or your routine or your home, you'll likely find something there. Otherwise, my recommendations will be exploring wards and warding tags online and on others' blogs.
Oh, and the Cleansing and Cleaning tag! Yeah, I tend to keep a lot of tags that are double-headed. I also don't know why. But I hope that this helps at least a little, and I hope things dissipate soon!
Good luck!
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ye4gerismarchives · 9 months ago
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the bachelorette: the wedding
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an: h-hey guys😅 a whole month w/o rhe bachelorette. y’all prolly forgot about it. fortunately, i haven’t😭 sorry yall, i’ve been up all night for the past month reading about nasty white men instead of writing for the bachelorette. this chapter has 4768 words, so i guess that’s a plus.
tags: black, fem reader. i don’t have any triggers off my head, if something does trigger you, do let me know
taglist: @taybird
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5:00 am
You had plans to send Levi to his grave. How dare he wake you up at like four in the morning only to start your makeup and hair an hour later? The makeup and hair team were completely respectful towards you and respected your space, considering today was going to be full of emotions.
As your face was getting beat, there was a knock at the door. The makeup artist working on your face stopped so that you could address the person at the door. "If your name is Levi, don't bother coming in," you say. The door opens and your heart jumps because
Her Royal Highness Princess Historia and her girlfriend, Ymir, were in YOUR room.
"Oh sh*t, Your Royal Highness," you let out. Members of your team start to curtsy and bow to Historia. Ymir stands awkwardly behind her. She must have been getting used to the royal bs around her.
You stand to curtsy as well but Historia raises a hand to stop you. "Today is all about you. Ymir and I are going to be your bridesmaids today! Levi called us and we decided we would support you today!" she says cheerfully.
So, Levi probably wasn't going to die today. Now, you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him but you still side eyes him. He was a powerful guy- you were still under the impression that he said something to Mikasa during the show and caused her unusual behavior.
"Yeah! Ymir and I will get changed but we'll see you in your dress."
And with that, the princess and her girl left your room. It was like a dream.
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5:30 am
Weeks before the wedding came, you went dress shopping. However, it didn't go how you wanted it to go. Ideally, you would be dress shopping with Sasha, Mikasa, and Connie. There was no way in hell you would call Sasha and ask her to go with you. You called Connie, who refused to pick up. You thought about calling Mikasa but you felt uneasy about it. So, Levi and his husband, Erwin, went with you.
Erwin was a complete angel. He asked you respectful questions about your life and even made you laugh. Spending time with Erwin made you realized how...dark Levi was and even made you question why they were even together. But your thoughts couldn't stop you from seeing how Levi melted under Erwin's touch. They loved each other. You hoped that You and Jean would be like that.
With their help, you managed to pick the perfect dress.
Slipping it on for the second time was just as magical as it was the first. Your team awed and cooed over how beautiful you looked. Historia and Ymir entered in matching pink outfits and immediately started fawning over how good you looked.
You felt your face redden up and you couldn't help but smile. But all of that went away when a familiar face entered.
"You...you look good, y/n."
"Mikasa...what are you doing here?"
Mikasa was standing in front of you in the same pink color that Ymir and Historia were in but her outfit was a sleeveless wide-legged jumpsuit. Her bangs were brushed away from her face and the rest of her hair sat behind her ears- well, mostly.
"Levi called me. He apologized for everything and told me to come over to apologize to you too. And then he forced me to be your maid of honor," Mikasa explained.
Levi forcing her to come over sounded like him but apologizing? He must have realized he went too far, especially since Mikasa was his niece. Levi was too caught up in creating and entertaining drama that he probably forgot Mikasa's relation to him.
So, you decided to let everything go.
You walk towards Mikasa with arms open and she's shocked but she doesn't hesitate to envelop you in her arms are well.
"I'm so sorry, y/n. I know was so out of line. I'll never let any man get in the way of our friendship again," Mikasa said as she squeezed you harder.
"Same here. If things don't work out with Jean, I'll marry you instead," you joke. You can feel Mikasa's laughter vibrate against your neck. She pulls away first and you proceed to ask another question. "Have you been in touch with Sasha?"
Mikasa purses her lips and shakes her head. "She's been radio silent. I can't tell if she got more backlash than me. She's off social media and just unwilling to speak with anyone. The hate probably got to her and she's just hiding for now."
You weren't too surprised. Mikasa was doing a job- a terrible one- but Sasha went out of her way to sleep with one of your guys...but she was drunk. You could imagine Sasha being the most discussed and debated online. Without speaking to her, you wouldn't know what was really going on in her mind.
"Oh! You never said hi to Princess Historia or Ymir. They're my bridesmaids for the day," you point out. The color leaves Mikasa's face when she realizes who's in the room with her. "Sh*t. Your Royal Highness," Mikasa curtsies. Historia lets out one of her signature giggles and begins to introduce herself and Ymir to Mikasa. As that goes on, your team starts helping you with your dress again.
You were slightly glad Mikasa was by your side today. The situation between the both of you was awkward but you were willing to give her another chance.
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7:30 am
In the last two hours, you've done photoshoots and chat with everyone around you. Now it was time for Jean to be yours and for you to be his. You did question the early wedding time that Levi gave you but this would probably be the last time you saw that man so let's just let him do what he wants.
You were visibly nervous. You were gripping onto Mikasa's hand like it would be your last time doing so. "Hey, just remember, he's not your real husband. At least for now. This is all show," Mikasa reminds you. She was right. Jean may have been romantic with you but also he got his hour of fame, he could possibly leave you. Maybe he would get married to Connie.
You started to take a few deep breaths as you pulled up in front of the venue. Levi had rented a beach (not the one you and Connie were on) for your wedding.
From what you could see in the car, there were multiple seats and people were filling them up. You hoped that Connie's family had no ill-feeling toward you and decided to show up. It would be a shame since you were caught on television talking about how you would love for them to be there.
Your car came to a slow end. "y/n, do not worry. Remember, THIS is all fake. Only you decide if it's real," Mikasa reminds you. Levi opens your door and offers his hand to you. "It's go time." Mikasa helped you with your veil making sure that it wouldn't hit the ground.
"y/n, I know I may have been a menace but I'm happy for you. You might have had the most popular season yet," he says. Him bringing up ratings was no shock to you. You don't reply and Levi have his moment.
You like to think that Jean would like to spend the rest of his life with you. You knew that wasn't the case with many Bachelorettes and Bachelors but you look at Levi and Erwin...ah well, that wasn't a good example, considering that Erwin wasn't a contestant. He was the previous host. 'CALM DOWN,' you tell yourself, 'YOU AND JEAN WILL BE GOOD. AND IF HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU, ITS WHATEVER BECAUSE I'M THE BEST THING EVER.'
Minutes later, you're at the end of the aisle. Jean has his back turned and he's pacing back and forth slightly. Next to him is Connie. You know this because you recognize his big egg head. You're happy he put everything aside to support the both of you.
Mikasa takes her place in front of you and the music starts. Levi offers you his arm and you take it.
This was really happening.
You looked into the audience with a smile on your face but everything was moving so fast, you couldn't recognize their faces.
Before you knew it, you were by Jean. He still couldn't look at you- not until Levi gave you away. The marriage officiant clears his throat and begins to talk.
"We are gathered here today to witness the union of Jean and y/n. Welcome friends and family! We're glad to have you with us.
Today is the beginning of a remarkable journey for this couple. Drawing on their mutual admiration, respect, and trust, they are ready to embark on the next chapter in their lives. We celebrate the love and light evident in their relationship and wish them well on this joyous occasion.
Who gives this woman away?"
"I do," Levi answers. He takes Jean's hand and places it on top of yours. Jean then moves his under yours so that he could hold it. He looks down at Levi and mouths 'Thank you'. The shorter male nods and takes a seat.
The officiant gives you and Jean a moment to face each other. Jean had the biggest smile on his face when his eyes landed on you. "You look gorgeous," he whispers. "You're not so bad yourself," you reply.
The officiant continues. "If anyone has cause to object to the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace." You look over Jean's shoulder to see Connie. You couldn't see his whole face, thanks to Jean's height, but you could see his eyes. They were narrowed and looking straight at you.
You wanted to feel bad, but you couldn't. YOU decided that Connie would not be your spouse, and that was final.
No one responded to the officiant's request, so he continued.
"Marriage is an integral part of the human tradition. Let us remember, as we stand here before the Universe, that the vows taken today hold great importance, just as they did to our ancestors. As individuals, we choose to enter the union of marriage to share all aspects of ourselves with our soulmate. Today, this is true for Jean and y/n."
Soulmate. You hoped that was true for you and Jean. You did meet him on a tv show.
"There are few greater joys in life than finding someone with whom we truly "click." In that spirit, I will now share a short reading on soulmates from author Richard Bach:
"A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we're pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we're safe in our own paradise. Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we're two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we've found the right person. Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life."
Under the eyes of Ymir, together we take a moment to acknowledge the seriousness of the commitment being entered into today. With great joy, we also recognize the special bond shared by Jean and y/n.."
This...this was a special bond indeed. Not only that, it was completely random. The next part of the wedding was your vows. The next part of solidifying your relationship.
"I will now invite the couple to share their vows. Jean and y/n, the promises you make today are sacred; they are the groundwork from which your marriage will grow and blossom over time.
Jean, would you like to begin first?"
Jean nods and squeezes your hands. "y/n, hopefully by the end of this ceremony, you will be my wife. I know there's a lot that you're worried about but I'll do everything to make you happy. I'll always protect you and keep you satisfied."
"y/n, your turn."
"Jean. I'm not too sure what to say...you've out-speeched me," you joke. Jean chuckled. "But...I too promise to love and protect you. I'll also make sure we're on the same page because that's very important for our relationship. I'm willing to fight for us."
You look at the officiant, letting him know that you were done.
"Let us proceed. Jean, before your family and friends, do you take y/n as your beloved Wife, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?"
Jean is silent for a moment. He's rubbing the back of your right hand and staring straight into your eyes- almost as if he was reevaluating everything. This made you nervous. Jean was a smart guy. You know you couldn't hold him down and force him to do anything he didn't want.
"I...I do," he finally answers. The weight on your chest dissolves.
"y/n, before your family and friends, do you take Jean as your beloved Husband, to have and to hold, through laughter and in sadness, through challenges and successes, so long as you both shall live?"
"Yes, I do," you answer quickly. You hear small laughs coming from the audience.
The officiant gives you a small smile before continuing. "Wedding rings are a traditional symbol of the strength of the bond between two soulmates."  Connie comes from behind Jean with the wedding bands and gave you both one.
"This bond is never broken, and continues in a perpetual circle, glowing with the warmth and eternal light of two souls in a perfect union. By wearing these rings, you will be always reminded of the connection you share and the vows you have made today. Jean, please, repeat after me;
I, Jean..."
"I, Jean..."
"present you, y/n, with this ring..."
"present you, y/n, with this ring..."
"as a symbol of our everlasting love."
"as a symbol of our everlasting love."
"Let it never lose its luster..."
"Let it never lose its luster..."
"just as my love for you will never fade."
"just as my love for you will never fade."
Jean, still gently holding your hand, slips the ring on (whatever finger your culture uses for weddings!). He can't help but admire it for a moment. He looks back up at you with the biggest grin. All you had to do was place the ring on his finger and your marriage would be "official".
"y/n, repeat after me. I, y/n..."
"I, y/n..."
"present you, Jean, with this ring..."
"present you, Jean, with this ring..."
"as a symbol of our everlasting love..."
"as a symbol of our everlasting love..."
"let it never lose its luster..."
"let it never lose its luster..."
"just as my love for you will never fade."
"just as my love for you will never fade."
You slip the ring onto Jean's left finger.
"By the power vested in me by the Ymir Life Church and Paradis, under the eyes of the Ymir, I happily pronounce you Husband and Wife! Jean, kiss your bride."
At that moment, everyone disappeared. It was just you and Jean. Jean places a hand on your waist and pulls you in. You find your hands riding up his chest and resting on his shoulder as you get closer. You and Jean connect and all of sudden, you're not in that bubble anymore.
"Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time, I give you Mr. Kirstein and Mrs. l/n!!."
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You and Jean left together as "spouses". The first thing you did was official wedding photoshoots that were to be spread all over Paradis and all over the world- thanks to social media. Y'all kinda look like Meghan and Harry tbh.
You both got an opportunity to change in your reception outfits. After that, it was another car ride to the reception venue. Jean held your hand and couldn't stop talking about how beautiful you looked. You were so flustered, you couldn't get a response out. When you reached the venue, the driver helped out first and Jean slipped out of the car after you. He took your hand and entered the reception venue with you.
When you entered the dining hall, you were welcomed by cheers and claps. It was extremely overwhelming- not in a bad sense, however. You looked around the room and caught some familiar faces. You saw Bertholdt and Reiner sitting at a table with another unfamiliar girl. Across the room, Mikasa is seated with Connie, Historia, and Ymir. Everyone else is family that Levi most likely reached out to.
You and Jean take a seat and the cheering calms down. You lean on Jean's shoulder and sigh. The day wasn't over yet, but you were already so tired. Jean places his head on top of yours. "I can't wait to just be with you. I don't know what you had planned tonight but to be honest, I just want to sleep. I haven't realized how tired I was until now," Jean says quietly. "I have to agree. Let's just take a shower, cuddle and just pass out."
Jean brings his head up and smirks at you. "A shower? Together?" You only roll your eyes jokingly. "Oh, look, I think Levi is gonna call us up to have our first dance." "Don't worry, I'll get my answer sooner or later, y/n. You can't run from me." Jean pokes your arm teasingly, which causes you to squirm a little bit. Levi calls you up and Jeans takes your hand to lead you to the dance floor.
(Song of your choice) starts playing and you're not even sure where to start. Jean has a hand on your waist and is holding your free hand. You have a hand on his shoulders. "I'm not even sure where to start, we never practiced," you whisper. Jean smiles softly. "Don't worry about it. We're in this together aren't we?" He begins to move, taking full control. You stumble a bit but your reception dress hides your clumsiness. After a bit, you weren't stumbling anymore. You rest your head on Jean's shoulder and he pulls you even closer. Your movements get even slower. The music slowly disappeared and so did everyone else. It was just you and Jean.
When the music actually came to an end, you pulled away slowly. "You did great," Jean says softly. "So did you." You both go back to your seats. Waiters started to come out and take everyone's orders for dinners and started to pour drinks- meaning a toast would be coming up.
Mikasa comes up to the dance floor and awkwardly clanks her glass, trying to get everyone's attention. Everyone turned their heads and it wasn't because of the awkward clanking of the glass. There were some 'What the hell is she doing here?'s and 'Eren's b*tch?'s. You could visibly see Mikasa's nervousness so you attempted to lock eyes with her. It took her a while but she could finally look you in the eye. Mikasa clears her throat. "Um, hi. You're probably wondering why I'm here but today is not about me. It's about y/n and Jean. I was once y/n's closets friends until I was pressured to do something that I wouldn't normally do." Mikasa gives Levi a side-eye. The shrimp man crosses his arms and rolls his eyes.
"y/n is absolutely amazing...I can't really put it into words but there's something about her that just make people want to be around her. I can see why Jean fought so hard to be with her."
Jean squeezes your hand when she makes that comment.
"I often think to myself about how y/n could have easily met Jean at a café or a movie theatre or something rather than on TV show. But at the same time, this was good for her...and all of us. Here we discovered the lengths of our friendship and who we really were as people. I believe these ups and downs helped y/n find Jean- her true love. Honestly, I wish you both a happy future. Make it worth it."
Mikasa raises her glass and everyone clinks their glass with their neighbors. Connie begins to walk up to the dance floor as soon as Mikasa leaves.
"I'm going to be really honest with you. This is was unexpected. I honestly thought that today was going to be about me." Connie raises his eyebrows at Jean, who furrows them.
"But I guess it's a good thing I didn't marry y/n. I wouldn't have been enough to handle. So, congrats to you, Jean. You're tolerable."
Connie gets off the dance floor without giving you or Jean a look. You look at Jean and he's hurt. "H-hey...maybe he's drunk or something. In his feelings, you know? Don't let him make you feel bad," you say. Jean gives you a small smile before sipping down his drink.
Moments later, it was time for parent dances. Jean got up to dance with his mom. It was a little bit uncoordinated than yours but they looked like they were having a lot of fun.
Next was the bouquet and garter toss. You started with the garter first. You sat in a chair with your legs cross. You knew this was going to happen but it wasn't rehearsed. Jean could see your uneasiness, so he started doing a silly sensual dance. It made you laugh and your laughter got louder once he started shimming down to the floor. He got closer to your thigh and you felt your face heating up. You slapped your hand over your mouth once he starting biting the garter and pulling it off. As he continued, you cupped your face. When Jean was finally day, cheers erupted and you uncovered your hot face. Jean closes his eyes and throws the garter into the crowd and it lands in the hands of Reiner. The guys cheer even louder for him as he awkwardly glances over at Bertholdt, who is a few people away from him.
Next was the bouquet throwing. You closed your eyes and the guest counted you off. Once you heard the number three, you threw the bouquet. You open your eyes and turn around to see that Bertholdt had gotten the flowers. His face is so red...he look like a tomato.
After your guest settled down, it was time to cut your cake, meaning that your wedding day was almost over. You picked a (cake of your choice) for tonight. "It looks delicious. I can't wait to try it," Jean whispers in your ear. "It is. You'll love it," you respond. You pick up a knife. Jean wraps his hands around yours. You both gently place the knife on the cake and pushed it down. You lean back to give Jean a kiss and he gives you one. Jean grabs two forks by the cake and hands one over to you.
Jean scoops a piece of the cake first. He places a hand on your chin and you open your mouth. "Ladies first," he says as he places the cake in your mouth. You take a minute to savor the taste before swallowing. You also take a piece of the cake and get on your toes to feed Jean. He chuckles softly at your struggle before taking the fork from you and feeding himself. "You're right, it's good," he says after swallowing. He bends down slightly to give you another kiss.
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The night was slowly coming to an end. There was no sight of Connie after his stupid speech and Levi and Erwin were getting ready to get home. Historia and Ymir had left right after the cake cutting ceremony but had promised to call you once everything had settled down. You and Jean formally greeted your guest and started your goodbyes.
Mikasa had gone up to you with a slightly awkward face. "Today wasn't so bad, huh?" she starts. You give her a kind smile. "It wasn't. Did you enjoy yourself?" Mikasa pauses to answer. "Your wedding was beautiful...however, I can't get upset over the reaction about me being here. y/n, I have to apologize again. What I did was completely wrong. I shouldn't even be blaming Levi for everything. I could have told you at first and-"
You pull Mikasa into a hug to shut her up. "Mikasa, move on. Come on, we're adults! At least you're apologizing and trying- unlike someone we know," you joke. You pull away. "Hopefully, if Jean and I have a real wedding, it won't be as awkward for you." Mikasa nods. "I'll see you around. Congrats." As Mikasa walks off, Reiner, Bert, and this mystery blonde come up to you. Inside Reiner's pocket is your garter sticking out and Bertholdt is clenching your bouquet.
"Hey," you start," Thank you for coming. Who's your friend?"
Bertholdt looks over at the blonde. "Thank you for inviting us...um...this is Annie. My dad thought you were her."
Now, why did Bertie's dad think you was this yt girl?😟
LMAO. "Nice to keep you, Annie. You Bertie's girl?" you ask.
Annie shakes her head no frantically. "OH, NO. Never in a million years, no. Yuck!" she answers dramatically. Reiner throws an arm over Bert's shoulder. "He's actually my boy now," he says proudly. "OH-! Congrats! So we're having a wedding for you soon, yes?" You tease. Reiner nods and Bertie tries to hide his face in Reiner's hair. "When did this all happen...? I just eliminated you like...two weeks ago?"
"Well...Reiner and I were still in contact and when I left, he reached out to me. We met up a few times and we hit it off," Bertie explains. "Congrats. I'm really happy to hear that," you answer. You turn around to look for Jean. He's talking to his mom. He gives you a small glance before continuing his conversation with her. "I better go catch up with Jean. It was nice to see you...and finally meeting you, Annie." The trio say their goodbyes before leaving.
You make your way over to Jean but you're stopped by the human fit of annoyance- Levi. You were so tired of him but you threw on a smile since Erwin was walking over as well. "Yes, Levi? I thought we were done here," you say in a singsong voice. "Aw, you're ready to go?" Levi says sarcastically. You open your mouth to answer but he cuts you off. "For starters, thank you for adding on to mine and Erwin's paychecks. We really appreciate it. Arrangements for your hotel and honeymoon have been put together. You're tired of me, but don't hesitate to call me if something goes wrong. Besides that, I wish you luck. Make everything worth it."
Levi walks past you and Erwin stops to hug you before following his husband.
Jean makes his way up to you, his mom following behind. "Everything good? I saw shrimp talking to you." You take Jean's hand. "Everything's good." Jean pulls you into a side hug. "Aw, you guys are so cute. I really do hope you last," Jean's mom comments, "I've always wanted a daughter."
"Mom, nothing's official yet-"
"I'm glad you think of me as your daughter, June."
"Well, I'll see you later. Jean, take care of her tonight. Be good to her and listen to her. Don't be rough, she's not a rag doll," June warned her son. She had a finger up in his face and everything. Seeing their relationship on the regular was going going to be hilarious.
Jean swats his mom's finger out of his face before waving her goodbye. He then fully wraps his arms around you. "No offense. But I'm glad this is over. We'll get to know each other one on one now," he says. You can't help but agree.
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ITS FINALLY OVER. well not exactly. i have one more chapter to write and y’all will never hear about levi, 12 guys, and dates ever again😭 but since this series has reached its goal (you getting married) please do me a favor and rate my series, it would be appreciated!
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djarrex · 10 months ago
Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.
There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.
It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 
I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.
Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.
Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,
I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 
It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  
Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,
I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.
Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.
Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 
Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.
One more thing:
I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 
To conclude:
I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  
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ihatetaxes99 · a year ago
A Little Rant
Okay, so I've been mulling over this for a long time and I have decided, fuck it, I want to talk about something that has been on my mind for a long time. Specifically, how much I just really, really dislike Katsuki Bakugo as a character and to do so, I'm going to compare him him to my favourite character... Well, technically, second favourite, since my overall favourite doesn't quite fit the discussion (Sorry, Sako-kun, I swear I'll give you the acknowledgement you deserve another time.)
So, uh, before I start, probably a good idea to mention that I am going to be very harsh to Mr. Bakugo here, so if you like him, I'd advise not reading for your own sake. I know that a lot of Baku stans tend to prowl the anti tags, and this isn't for you. However, if you think you can handle it, be my guest; Just don't get pissy at me if you don't like it.
Let's get started. Where to begin, where to begin? Well, we all know the characters of Katsuki Bakugo and Tomura Shigaraki, two of the most integral characters in the series and, as far as I am concerned, two rather noteworthy pieces of shit. For the latter, this is no surprise to anyone, Shigaraki is the main bloody antagonist. He's terrorised the world of heroes for around a year by the most recent point in the manga, has murdered dozens during the MLA confrontation alone and ultimately aims to wipe everyone out. At his purest form, he is an agent of chaos and nothing less. A young man who was driven out of society and forced to indulge in his own rage. He's very clearly a character beyond redemption, and even attempting to do so would just be silly. And yet, I love him. Easily my second favourite character, at some points, he has weasled his way into first place.
Then, we have Bakugo. Beloved by all, both in universe and in the fandom, Katsuki is an explosive, ill-tempered brat with a dispositon as childish as Shigaraki's was earlier on in the series. I really do not like his character, but at the end of the day, he hasn't killed anyone and hasn't committed any crime, so why should I?
Well, that second part is technically a lie. Yeah, we all like to forget the suicide baiting scene, even Horikoshi. But simply put, it cannot be forgotten and that is my big issue with Bakugo. Everything he has done both past and present is swept under the rug. He has acted absolutely abhorrently towards a Quirkless little boy who just wanted to be his friend for years, constantly belittled and in some cases assaulted this boy. During the initial training, he nearly blows Deku to kingdom come. And why? Because he doesn't like feeling inferior. Well tough shit, the little bastard has gotten his way all his life, and coming to UA was the perfect opportunity for him to put on his big boy pants, grow a pair and actually mature as an individual. Surely, an institution such as UA would not ignore or even reward his behaviour?
Yeah, UA deserves all that is surely coming to it following the end of the war, purely because of how they let Katsuki slide. Keep in mind, Nedzu and Aizawa fully acknowledged that his tempermental behaviour made Bakugo a target for the League of Villains. And yet, upon recapturing him, no attempts are made to actually nurture him into dropping this egocentric shit that makes him such a target. 
And of course, it's Katsuki who gets to learn about One for All first. Not Ida, the streadfast, loyal friend, not Uraraka, who has often been Izuku's closest confident. Hell, even Mineta, for all his faults, is more friendly to Izuku than Bakugo has ever been. And yet, it's good old Katsuki who gets to learn about it, the same Katsuki who didn't believe it at first, mocked the dead users of One for All and was generally a horrible, spiteful little shit. He even somehow has a friend in Kirishima, which frankly astonishes me. I am aware that 1-A don't know about Bakugo's past, but who would ever be attracted to his completely unstable personality?  
And of course, he's ended up calling himself DynaMight as his hero name. First off, my darling Mister Compress is right, that's so fecking tacky, even by BNHA standards. But secondly, what the actual fuck? Okay, so the actual disciple of All Might gets stuck with a hero name that everyone knows is meant to humiliate and tear him down while the cocky little bugger who has shown nothing but open contempt to the very nature of One for All gets to ape on All Might's name? Remember a very early chapter, that had a flashback to Midoriya's potential hero names and they were all intentionally childish and cringe? Yeah, this is quite literally that but unironic. God, I hate Bakugo.
And that's really it, what separates two deeply unlikable characters. Shigaraki is acknowledged by the writing as an awful person with a scant few redeeming qualities. His backstory never tries to excuse his actions, only explain them. And so, this ragtag violent scumbag ends up as a better character than the violent scumbag that we're supposed to root for. Because I cannot root for Bakugo no matter what. He deserves the full Endeavour treatment, frankly. Because at least Enji is finally receiving what he deserves for his actions (Even if the absolutely God-awful chapter 301 has muddied that a little by portraying him in a positive light for some reason.) Bakugo needs consequences, he needs intervention and he needs to actually fucking apologise with some sincerity before I'll ever accept him as an even halfway decent character.
Blegh. Sorry for this long, boring and ultimately pointless rant. I know that literally no one cares what I have to say on this internationally beloved character, but I needed to share my two cents. 
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thermodynamiclawyer · a year ago
yeah, this is gonna be a trainwreck. here’s @bandagegirl ‘s and my GHS headcanon masterpost. our goal was to have at least 3 per character, if not more. we kinda had to group the last few characters together in the end, though. it’ll be split up in categories between the characters in the Game, then Anime-Only, and then overall Worldbuilding at the end as for easier reading.
Game Characters
the Lost World/Gregory House is Gregory’s own manifestation through loneliness and envy. (see Worldbuilding)
he’s WAY older than a grandfather of James. he’s more of a great-great-great-great grandfather, but it’s easier to just call him grandpa.
he’s been long dead in reality for years. always constantly dreaming and manifesting his Lost World and eventually never woke up.
there is almost 0 records of him from reality. because of this, there is no clear time period he originated in, unlike the guests.
he’s a collector. he loves historically significant antique items to put on a shelf and learn all about.
as taken from the manga, his favorite historical subject is War.
he suffered from frequent night terrors as a teenager, making it difficult to sleep before the manifestation of the Lost World.
while he usually tries to set up a weekly chore schedule for the residents in the hotel, he usually ends up doing everything himself (both because the guests throw in the towel very quickly and that Gregory wants to do everything right).
his magic abilities include teleportation and immortality, but he’s still very prone to injury.
Gregory Mama
she’s actually a manifestation within the Lost World that Gregory used to cope/punish himself with.
has the tendency to adopt new guests as family members only to eat them/their souls later. this also applies to Gregory attempting to manifest new family members in the past, to which he stopped after Gregory Mama has shown to steal their souls each time.
obviously, she’s not Gregory’s real mother, rather a personification of the abuse Gregory suffered in reality.
as young children usually don’t use their parents real name often, she doesn’t have a real name.
he’s a child who escaped reality after discovering a forgotten family member (Gregory) in very old family photos; having little to no relation to the rest of the family.
plus, hearing rumors of a hotel that only appeared during moonless nights only encourage him to take on a challenge.
since he’s related to Gregory (even if it’s very distant), his monster transformation was a lot faster, becoming a full rat in little under a month.
he LOVES horror movies, especially slasher films. he might be a little too influenced by them.
he owns a large range of weapons, from toy water guns to actual chainsaws. that doesn’t mean he’ll use them responsibly, though.
he’s a very smart kid, even to the point where he can be manipulative to both the kids and the adults. he’ll even convince other kids to take the blame for him whenever he starts problems.
his parents from reality miss him very much.
in reality, Catherine was a German nurse in the 1940’s during WW2.
as a human, she was actually afraid of the sight of blood and would get lightheaded whenever she had to treat a soldier’s wounds. however, as a determined nurse, she tried her hardest to become tolerant of blood. tolerance became fondness and fondness became obsession to the point where she was hurting her patients just to see blood again.
she is attracted to both men and women, however she experiences internalized biphobia. due to this, she’s desperate to find true love with a man while specifically trying to avoid romantic relationships with women.
she knows how to take care of children.
she molts her skin during periods of time, you know, since she’s a lizard.
she didn’t gain magic powers along with her transformation, but instead gained physical strength.
Cactus Gunman and Cactus Girl
both originated in the Mexican revolution, especially around 1910.
Gunman had been shot in the chest a few times in his life and surprisingly survived each of them.
Gunman’s personality completely changed once he arrived in Gregory House with his sister, becoming a paranoid coward from the brave “hero” he made himself out to be.
they both grow seasonal flowers in the springtime. Gunman grows one large red flower on his head, which he hides with his hat in the spring time. he prefers to only show to his potential lover. Cactus Girl grows smaller white flowers in her hair.
Gunman is in dire need of glasses.
Gunman is quite fond of gardening, and loves to talk about flora. sometimes, Lost Doll will accompany him in the courtyard while he weeds.
they would die for each other, so don’t cross them.
Cactus Girl can shoot better than Gunman, but prefers her lasso and other melee weapons. she’s sworn off using guns after the revolution.
Cactus Girl has the ability to spawn in zones in smaller closed areas, such as turning her hotel room into Cactus Land; sort of like a pocket dimension. it’ll disappear as soon as she leaves the room.
sometimes, they both don’t need to eat due to the occasional Photosynthesis, and can go a long time without water.
Hell’s Chef
he worked as a highly regarded chef in Russia at a fancy restaurant, with mixed European family origins.
him and Mirror Man were coworkers of some sort.
he came from a long line of wrestlers, but broke family tradition to cook as a passion and career.
he died after the restaurant went up in flames.
his throat is still scratchy and rough from the incident, so he isn’t much of a talker. not to mention the language barrier and that he’s still attempting to learn the language everyone else speaks in Gregory House.
while the appearance of his meals look absolutely irredeemable, Chef’s cooking is actually very tasty; so much that you almost can’t taste the poison. he prefers making meals that are hearty and savory, rather than “looking good”.
he prefers to do all the food shopping and butchering. nobody knows the best ingredient selections like he does.
like Catherine, all of this “magic ability” went to his incredible strength.
most, if not all of his body is made out of wax, with vein like wick all throughout the body, giving him general bodily structure.
Neko Zombie
(see Worldbuilding)
Clock Master and My Son
My Son was a stillborn in reality; the death of him and his mother gave Clock Master an alcohol addiction and depression.
1960 is the year My Son and CM's wife died, making it when time stopped for CM. he’s sort of “stuck” in 1960 in a way, which is why the year is plastered on both of their foreheads.
My Son was technically "born" in Gregory House.
when Clock Master came to Gregory House, an infant My Son was already waiting in his room. Because the child died before getting a name, CM referred to him as My Son.
while CM's time abilities are getting worse with age, they never were great to begin with due to the Lost World's unusual flow of time.
My Son's time abilities on the other hand have the potential to be the most powerful ability out of everyone's when he gets older, being able to play multiple timelines at the same time and even rewriting reality. this is due to being born in the Lost World, so his ability has adapted to Gregory House’s “time” system.
Judgement Boy + Gold
instead of a singular character, Judgement Boys are classified as a “species” considering there are multiple of them, with more being produced in the Judgement Factory daily. there is not a singular JB.
the Judgement Factory in Gregory House is a sub-factory of a much bigger Core Factory, where it branches off into different zones and other manifestations. There are countless Judgement Factories in existence, all with numerous JBs being produced and trained.
Judgement Boy Gold is an individual one-of-a-kind model, however, there are more in the “Metal” series similar to him in different factories with a variety of training jobs.
JBs came into existence after a lawyer in the early 2000’s won a court case that suppressed the rights and safety of these assembly line workers in a Toy Factory, which caused hundreds of workers to be injured or even killed. realizing the consequences of his actions, he spiraled downwards into insanity and ended up in Gregory House, rarely leaving his hotel room and eventually manifesting the Factory.
most models or designs of a Judgement Boy are based off of toys; one of the very few things reflected from the lawyer’s fatal court case.
the standard JB’s appearance is a bastardized caricature of the original lawyer, only with added cages and robotic features. the lawyer began transforming into a red monster with sharp teeth and claws, but never saw the results as he disappeared into the Core Factory one day, never to be seen again.
see @ask-factory and the #extended factory tag for a more extensive story.
Mummy Family
Mummy Papa, Mummy Dog, and Mummy Mama originated somewhere in the 1980’s.
the reason they’re in Gregory House is an overlap of death and the fact that Mummy Papa was unintentionally poisoning the 3, leading to ending up in the hotel as a “punishment”.
they’re Bloodhounds.
Mummy Papa loves to collect weapons and owns a saber collection, especially older historically significant ones.
Mummy Dog enjoys morbid facts and likes to tell the other children about death.
Mummy Papa has Münchausen Syndrome by Proxy, which is triggered when the sword shifts in his head. because of this, he keeps himself and the rest of his family sicker with unclear motives, perhaps to have the ability brag about their ailments. (more details here)
Mummy Mama suffers from more immune-system based illnesses and anemia while the other two deal with physical and phantom pain, which they all pass off as colds.
the plant in Mummy Mama’s head is a parasite, and needs to be fed directly to continue living if Mummy Mama gets too weak. (the plant prefers blood)
one of the few characters classified as a species.
TV Fish have a wide variety of fish or other sea creatures they can be. the TV Fish in Gregory House are much smaller.
some TV Fish don’t even have to be TVs. some can be other electronic appliances just as long as they’re combined with a fish skeleton.
they can be found across other Zones and places besides the Lost World, some with localized and native species differing from what we already seen.
TV Fish are an invasive species in the Lost World.
they’re attracted to people with better memory. a person more intact and in touch with their memories could attract an entire school of TV Fish!
Roulette Boy
practically a God, Roulette Boy has reality bending powers.
however, since he follows his own rules strictly, he sets limits on himself as to only use them for his games, and won’t apply them to himself since he’s the Game Master.
nobody knows what the “rules” he follow are, but he restrains himself on what he can do while hosting a game. though, once you’re in his game, it’s almost a free-for-all and he can change you to be whatever pawn he sees fit until the game is over.
while RB prefers traditional board games, nothing’s stopping him from hosting RPGs or other turn-based video games (as seen in Lost Qualia.) he also loves gacha games and gambling.
when not hosting a game, he likes to roleplay.
Angel/Devil Dog
she is not a guest in Gregory House, neither a manifestation of the Lost World. she is a messenger from an entire separate outside world/reality, and she’s always been Angel Dog.
her, Death, and Gregory have been around equally the longest.
her and Gregory have a long history of rivalry. she’s always meddling in the Lost World and trying to let souls out a backdoor. whether she’s doing it to free them, or just to piss off Gregory, depends on her mood.
Angel Dog has a solid grasp on reality, however, her reality is different from the guests. it’s why her and Neko Zombie get along.
she doesn’t have a split personality disorder, as she chooses to become Devil Dog whenever she feels like it. her decision making is very emotion-based.
she’s a Dachshund!
Devil Dog likes soccer, and Angel Dog likes american football.
Lost Doll
ever since coming to the Lost World, she has either stopped aging altogether or she ages very slowly, as most object-based guests do.
she’s a wooden marionette with the ability to change her size.
in reality, she belonged to a very poor family who could only afford a few outdated wooden toys, which is why Katie was so special to her.
she’s good friends with James, even if she’s usually the one falling victim to his pranks. sometimes, when Katie takes over, it can be the other way around.
she has poor volume control and tends to shout when she’s excited or provoked.
she’s the youngest guest.
Death, like Gregory Mama, is a manifestation of a part of Gregory's life.
he was created from Gregory’s favorite comfort movie, The Seventh Seal.
Death used to work in Gregory House as a doorman, welcoming the guests and wishing them goodbye, but fleed when Gregory Mama appeared and got rid of all other "manifestations".
his goal is to free Gregory's soul and end the Lost World, which is only possible if Gregory is the only person left.
Anime Characters
Dr.Fritz is also German like Catherine, but came a little later in time.
back in reality, his body slowly stop responding, so he illegally tried to build himself a new body. that new body wasn’t fully ready yet when he decided to transplant his own brain when he was wheelchair bound and starting to lose arm control, so it was a very long process.
because of his condition, doctors either didn’t treat him correctly or flat out ignored his problems, so he has a strong mistrust to other doctors, which is why he wanted to operate on himself. the other doctors said there was nothing they could do, but he had other plans in mind.
he was there for the Berlin wall falling, and still has a piece of it as a keepsake.
he falls apart easily and has to re-sew body parts or snap his neck back into place. Catherine helps put him back together (in return, Fritz helps her shed.)
Catherine calls him Fritzchen on occasion.
he documents the species of the patients he treats out of curiosity and hopes to help them better. his treatments may be considered “unethical” but he knows for certain that if it’s to cure or treat the patient, he’ll go great lengths to break any rule in the medical field.
Mono Eye Wizard + Frog Fortune Teller
both are canonically married to each other, i just wanted to make sure everyone knew :]
Mono Eye Wizard wears a helmet, and he’s also an amphibian with one eye underneath his robe.
both are very interested and knowledgeable in the Magical and Paranormal side of the Lost World.
both held onto their souls for longer than most people, but lost them in the end.
Wizard is normally very powerful, he just SUCKS at summonings. (plus, he’s a little bit of an idiot)
on the other hand, Frog Fortune Teller isn’t very powerful, but she is very smart (and stubborn). she’s almost always right, especially if it’s a bad thing she predicted.
Wizard, and other characters such as Musha Dokuro and Egypetit all worship the same Dark Lord.
the little horned skeletons in Wizard’s cult are also classified as a species. sometimes, he allows in other interested members.
Wizard is fluent in latin.
Second Guest
the Second Guest, as shown at the end of the season two, has the silhouette of a rat. that’s her actual form; a shadow.
her “job” is to eavesdrop on other guests to go and report to Gregory Mama.
she’s very fast, quiet, hard to catch, and a big snitch.
the others call her “Hello Sister” as a title, while Gregory Mama calls her “My Lovely Daughter.”
her cigarette embers still glow on the wall, which is one of the only signals she’s in the room, especially in a poorly lit one.
usually only Gregory, James, and Mama can “hear” what she’s saying.
Chef strongly dislikes her and Lost Doll avoids her like the plague.
a pair of indistinguishable twins, escaping reality after being rejected of their dream to become famous theater actors. both young adults.
they work multiple part time jobs, including helping out in the Judgement Factory in the hotel and Kabuki's theater, along with Poor Conductor’s performances.
they share drinks at the bar. their favorite drink is a raspberry/strawberry milkshake with two cherries. don’t forget to give them two straws!
they’re both learning how to cook with Hell’s Chef. so far, they can dice onions very well. :]
Public Phone
he’s in the Lost World as a punishment for being a greedy thief in reality.
he can create fake alibis, passports, various cards in addition to faking voices.
he’s drinking pals with Clock Master.
he takes any currency, just nothing fake. only HE can be the swindle here.
he’s a perverted little bitch.
Various Species
Haniwa Salarymen are classified as species, created from overworked businessmen in reality. The occurrence of them are very common, and season 1 happens to focus on one of them.
Black Ducks are a species, specializing in working kiosks, amusement parks, and other booths. Speed Mouse is never seen without a team of Black Ducks. Street Vendors sometimes accompany them.
Musha Dokuro are an invasive species to the Lost World.
Trap Mice are a (rare) artificial species built in the Lost World.
Dead Bodies are also classified as a species. they are the result of Death freeing an individual’s soul, leaving a husk/empty body behind.
species like these show up in reality to those who are close to their visit in the Lost World, appearing in the background or the corner of their eye, replacing real people.
individuals in all of those species are not visible/noticable until you interact and get close with them. they’re like NPCs.
Wooden Lizard was Captain Wood’s favorite keychain that came to life.
Fat Chicken is an omnivore. He can and will eat anything.
(see here for Pig Gentleman and Mirror Man.)
Mirror Man can summon his own pocket dimension.
Kinko and Inko know more than they lead on, and Kinko is definitely much more powerful, but he can’t be bothered to do anything about it. he’s lazy.
Inko smokes cigars, but hates cigarettes.
Earth Man (from Lost Qualia) is non-verbal. he’s also very eco friendly!
Hell’s Taxi is a manifestation of a false sense of hope to escape the Lost World. it can also manifest in Reality to pick up new guests.
Egypetit’s head is made up of Gold, a strong conductor of magic in the Lost World.
Poor Conductor was powerful enough to manifest his own room into the Lost World, rather than checking into the Hotel himself.
Unbaba is semi non-verbal and cannot remove his mask. he’s definitely powerful enough to make guests lose their souls.
Bonsai Kabuki needs to water his head frequently or else he’ll be drained of energy, and be unable to open his third eye.
The Rainbow Dragon fossils, which Bonehead is after, are cursed, and uses his wife’s voice to compel him into seeking after them to claim yet another victim.
Toilet Baby may not be as powerful, but he can still summon dangerous attacks related to pocket dimensions.
Sleepy Sheep is used as a vessel in his sleep for those who are powerful enough to enter dreams.
Gregory House was a real place back in Reality, and it originally belonged to Neko Zombie and his loving family.
However, years and years of built up envy and hatred from Gregory, a person who didn’t receive the same love and luxuries as Neko Zombie, manifested the Lost World as a way for him to cope with the things he didn’t have in Reality, bringing the house down with him.
The remains of the house in Reality is now a mere rumor in the town, but its influence spreads across many zones to this day.
Neko Zombie is the final remaining member of the original owners of the house.
Him and Gregory are LONG forgotten for generations in Reality.
Zones are a loose term in the Lost World, which could mean alternate realities, different dimensions, etc. The Lost World is a zone with its own manifestations.
Another Zone could have its own origins and realities. Reality is not a zone, if that makes sense.
A Zone itself can manifest as a single individual or object being the Core that keeps the zone existing. (See The Core Judgement Factory that branches off Sub-Factories into different Zones.)
The Lost World is a very large Zone that reaches and branches off into other Zones, pulling in individuals.
Because of Zonal shenanigans, time moves a lot differently in the Lost World.
awful hospital does a better job handling zones better than this, actually. we took a little bit of inspiration from it. see here and here for a better grasp on what i’m trying to say.
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felixcantstfu · a year ago
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The haikyuu babes have a group chat.
It goes about as well as you’d expect✨
A couple of my friends wrote this absolute fucking gem 💎 of a chatfic. I helped a little. Their links are posted at the bottom.
Warnings: swearing. Thats it. I know right?! If i'd written it there'd be 15 at least and half of them you couldn't say in polite company.
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This is your brand new, shiny server!
To get it started, invite some friends!
Koushi Sugawara added 15+ people to the chat
Koushi Sugawara: welcome! i made this so we can all stay in touch, even when we’re graduated and whatnot :))
Kozume Kenma: mistakes have been made.
Ryuu Tanaka: tHeSe NiCkNaMeS aRe So BaSiC
Daichi Sawamura: oh god my eyes
Tetsurou Kuroo: oya oya oya?
Koutarou Bokuto: BRO
Tetsurou Kuroo: bro!
Keiji Akaashi: oh dear lord
Tadashi Yamaguchi: southern voice oh lawdy jeezus
Tetsurou Kuroo: Im currently hallucinating due to the slep depravavtiounnn
Kozume Kenma: go to sleep
Tetsurou Kuroo: mevah
Lev Haiba: ?????????????
Morisuke Yaku: go tf to sleep
Koushi Sugawara: hewwo i haven’t slept in 35 hours
Shouyou Hinata: !!!!!!!!!!
Daichi Sawamura: Please go to bed
Tetsurou Kuroo: your nit my dadddd
Koutarou Bokuto: MY DUDE MY BRO GO TO BED
Tetsurou Kuroo: fine
Tetsurou Kuroo: gnight
Tetsurou Kuroo is offline
~~3 hours later~~
Tetsurou Kuroo is online
Tetsurou Kuroo: But… what if the sea is only salty because the land never waves back?
Kei Tsukishima: it is literally 2 am what the fuck
Koushi Sugawara: no no, he’s got a point
Tetsurou Kuroo: SEE?!
Yuu Nishinoya: cHaOs HoUr
Chikara Ennoshita: please no
Satori Tendou: i heard chaos and i ran as fast as i could
Ryuu Tanaka: hE zOoM
Wakatoshi Ushijima: Tendou, go to bed.
Satori Tendou: don’t wanna, country boy
Tooru Oikawa: gasp
Hajime Iwaizumi: no.
Tooru Oikawa: I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road~
Satori Tendou: i got my horses in the back~
Tobio Kageyama: i regret every decision in my life that has lead me to this point
Shouyou Hinata: No you don’t.
Tooru Oikawa: horse tack is attached~
Satori Tendou: hat is matte black~
Wakatoshi Ushijima: Tendou, for the love of god, go to sleep.
Satori Tendou: Sleep is for the weak. And I am not weak.
Tooru Oikawa: got the boots that’s black to match~
Satori Tendou: riding on a horse, hah~
Tooru Oikawa: you can whip your porsche
Satori Tendou: i been in the valley~
Tooru Oikawa: you ain’t been up off that porch, now
Koushi Sugawara: GO TO BED.
Satori Tendou, Tooru Oikawa, Wakatoshi Ushikima and 3 others went offline
~~The Next Morning~~
Tadashi Yamaguchi: on days like these, kids like us should be BURNING IN HELL
Daichi Sawamura: i-
Koushi Sugawara: Why do you say that?
Kei Tsukishima: hes pissed that practice got cancelled bc of the snow
Tobio Kageyama: And with good right!
Yuu Nishinoya: tHiS cHaT iS bOrInG wItHoUt SoMe FuN nAmEs
Ryuu Tanaka: BrO yOuRe RiGhT
Koushi Sugawara: You’re*
Yuu Nishinoya: i GoT oNe!
Yuu Nishinoya changed Koushi Sugawara’s name to Suga-Mama
Suga-Mama: Why god… why me?
Yuu Nishinoya changed Yuu Nishinoya’s name to ROOOOLLLING THUNDERRRR
Ryuu Tanaka: dO oNe FoR mE!
ROOOOLLLING THUNDERRRR changed Ryuu Tanaka’s name to Buddha
Buddha: oH hElL yEaH
Kei Tsukishima: why tf can’t i leave
Suga-Mama: you’re trapped :))
ROOOOLLLING THUNDERRRR changed Kei Tsukishima’s name to Salty-shima
Salty-shima: wow thanks! i hate it!
Wakatoshi Ushijima: What was the scream in the dorms?
Satori Tendou: semi-semi fell down the stairs :))
Tobio Kageyama: ha loser
Suga-Mama: is he okay??!??!?
Eita Semi: not really
Eita Semi: dropped my CROISSANT
Salty-shima: oh boo hoo
Daichi Sawamura: well, at least you’re conscious
Buddha changed Daichi Sawamura’s name to Dad-chi
Dad-chi: ...hmmmm
Buddha: a DySfUnCtIoNaL oNe At ThAt
Suga-Mama: Hinata is my favorite child
Shouyou Hinata: ¯\_( ͡❛ ͜ʖ ͡❛)_/¯
Salty-shima: pathetic.
Tadashi Yamaguchi: Calm down, Tsukki. I’m sure @Suga-Mama meant well
Lev Haiba: ow, i hate being SIX FOOT FIVE
Tetsurou Kuroo: sucks 2 suck i guess
Morisuke Yaku: ill steal your fucking kneecaps, BITCH
Suga-Mama: What’s happening here?
Chikara Ennoshita: hell if i know
Chikara Ennoshita: all i wanted was to sleep
Tobio Kageyama: fuck if I know
Dad-chi: guys, chill out
Shouyou Hinata: you are my dad~
Tadashi Yamaguchi: (you’re my dad! boogie woogie woogie!)
Dad-chi: i-
Salty-shima: shame on you, tadashi, i thought i taught you better than this
Tadashi Yamaguchi: he’s your dad too, Tsukki
Hitoka Yachi: shots fired-
Keiji Akaashi: i hope you know your typing gives me a migraine
Koutarou Bokuto: YOURE ON!!!!!!
Keiji Akaashi: shut up, bokuto
Tetsurou Kuroo: 👀
Suga-Mama: doesn’t class start in three minutes?
Buddha: bitch we’re on zoom, we got time
Dad-chi: did…..did you just call Suga a bitch?
Suga-Mama: 🔪
Tetsurou Kuroo: first name basis 👀
Wakatoshi Ushijima: Satori, you need to do this test.
Tooru Oikawa: SATORI???????????
Wakatoshi Ushijima: Shit.
Suga-Mama: are you two…?????
Hajime Iwaizumi changed Tooru Oikawa’s name to Dooru.
Shouyou Hinata: Iwaizumi literally could not care less :0
Hajime Iwaizumi: got that right, kid
Dooru changed Hajime Iwaizumi’s name to Iwa-Chan~
Iwa-Chan~: i absolutely despise you
Atsumu Miya: the energy of this gc is 💯
Buddha: cAn We GeT bAcK tO uShIjImA aNd TeNdOu DaTiNg
Wakatoshi Ushijima: No.
Dooru changed Wakatoshi Ushijima’s name to waka waka (this time for africa)
waka waka (this time for africa): Nevermind, you definitely should not have come to Shiratorizawa.
Dooru: eye-
Tetsurou Kuroo: hAH
Suga-Mama: not to rain on y’all’s parade but class started five minutes ago
Buddha: wAiT sHiT
Dad-chi: y’all’s
Suga-Mama: stopppp i can see you laughing on the call
Azumane Asahi: woah….this is something….
Lev Haiba: hi! welcome to hell!
Morisuke Yaku: it’s hell only bc you’re here
Kozume Kenma: stop being a tsundere, yaku
Suga-Mama: GO TO CLASS
Suga-Mama has locked the chat for the next 8 hours.
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Several other chapters are already completed and will be posted shortly as well as a BNHA chatfic by the very same talented group of individuals.
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Echo's links:
tumblr: echos-of-ages-past
Ao3: sugascookies
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Ao3: Help_Me_Unruly
Wattpad: Help_Me_Unruly
Instagram: @helpmeunrulywriter
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✨My spikes aren’t the only thing on point chatfic✨
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broskier · a year ago
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Bingo Fill: Truth Serum Title: As you are Rating: T Warnings: none Relationship: Roveth Tags: Secret reveal, Truth serum, half-elf Roche, alcohol Read here on ao3 or below: ----
Vernon Roche is a man of many secrets. Secrets which for the best of interest of everyone in the Northern Realms should remain exactly that: secret. Most of them have to do with his job, of course, as Temeria’s right-hand man. Or well, ex-right hand man now that Foltest kicked the bucket and Temeria is a highly disputed territory between Nilfgaard and Redania. 
Suffice to say, this intel if sold to a side could turn the tide of the war. But Roche doesn’t care jack shit about the war anymore. Not after this whole, quite frankly terrifying, ordeal with the invasion of the Wild Hunt and the battle that followed in the last fortress of the Witchers. 
But the most astounding one, the single piece of information that could end his very life ⁠—and he’s not being dramatic⁠— is the fact that he’s not as human as he leads people to believe. 
A secret worth a thousand, hidden beneath a cotton cap and a deep blue, almost black, chaperon. 
There have been close calls, he must admit. Moments in the battle against the Scoia’tael where Iorveth ⁠—and it always was Iorveth⁠— grabbed the liripipe of Roche’s chaperon and tugged. Moments that Vernon’s heart leapt to his throat because if he saw, the shame that was already eating Roche from inside would bloom into a festering wound that would lead him straight to the pyre. 
There are only a handful of people that know and they are either related to him by blood or they are entirely trustworthy individuals; Geralt and his Belhaven cousins included.
Vernon Roche is a bastard, a half-breed and he intends to take this secret to his grave. 
And here he is now, in Kaer Morhen, a crumbling keep in a sorry state up in the Blue Mountains having fought and won against the army of frost side by side with his friend Geralt, the other witchers, three powerful sorceresses and no other that Iorveth ex-commander of the fucking Scoia’tael.
Vernon sits on the edge of the outer walls, a bottle of vodka he stole from the keep’s kitchen cradled in his arms, staring at the melting pillars of ice. What a view. 
A sigh leaves his lips, an urge to do something ill-advised brewing at the corners of his mind. 
You see, they might have won against this otherworldly scourge, the Continent safe ⁠—as safe as war-torn monster-infested lands can be⁠— but that just leaves Roche feeling even more empty than before. Any camaraderie built with the survivors of the battle is rendered null and void when you’re hiding behind a mask⁠— or rather a hat. 
Roche the commander of the Blue Stripes. Roche the Temerian. The patriot. 
The human. 
What a godsdammned joke. If only they knew the truth. 
He takes another big sip of his vodka. The thought to give up, to come clean to everyone ⁠—even Iorveth, no, especially Iorveth⁠— strengthened by every burning gulp of alcohol. The elf deserves to know after everything they’ve been through together. Even if⁠— Even if Vernon ends up burning together with the Skelligers lost in the battle. 
He takes another sip, his free hand absently running the length of his chaperon’s tucked in liripipe. 
“Got any to share?” Iorveth’s voice sounds from behind him and the familiar tall figure clad in way too many layers moves to sit beside him, legs crossed. 
Roche sloshes clumsily the half-empty bottle. “A bit.” He hands the vodka to the elf, a shudder washing over him whole as his fingers accidentally brush Iorveth’s. “Why are you here?” he asks, almost resigned. 
“Not here to kill you.” 
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. No killing of guests in the keep,” he mimics Geralt’s gruff lecturing voice. 
“Thought you might wanna talk, dh’oine. This,” ⁠— the elf gestures to the melting corpses of the hounds⁠— “is fucked up.” 
A peal of laughter leaves Vernon’s lips. 
“What’s so funny, dh’oine?”
The laughter only becomes louder. There are even tears in Roche’s eyes, damn it!  
“Vernon, I’m seriously concerned⁠—” the elf says but cuts himself in the middle of the sentence, eye wide and a hand placed above his lips. 
Roche grabs the bottle from the shocked elf’s hands gulping down three long sips. 
“Dh’oine,” he says as if it explains everything. From Iorveth’s puzzled expression apparently, it doesn’t. “I’m no dh’oine Iorveth. Never was, never will be.” It’s like every barrier he meticulously kept raised in his mind was demolished by a tremendously powerful explosion. The words are flowing and he can’t stop them. And truth be told, he doesn’t think he wants them to stop. 
Gods, he’s so tired.    
“What are you trying to say, Roche?” Iorveth asks, more bewildered than Roche has ever seen him. 
He absently tugs at the folds and edges of his chaperon. Been too fucking long since he took it off in front of someone. 
“You’re gonna hate me, and you’ll be right to,” he confesses. 
“You committed war crimes, Vernon. What can be worse than that?” 
“You did too,” he retaliates. 
“I never claimed otherwise, arsewipe.” 
“Look,” ⁠—he sips a bit of that liquid courage⁠— “ever wonder how you knew where the- my Stripes would be? Where Foltest was running his latest attack?” 
“The letters,” ⁠—Iorveth locks eyes with him⁠— “that was you? Why?” 
“Hmmm… Maybe because I didn’t want Temeria to kill you lot. I know, I know, that’s high treason, makes me a shitty patriot and all that crap. But honestly, fuck Temeria.” 
Iorveth looks at him dumbfounded for a moment before he says, “I’ll drink to that. Roche the double agent; who would have thought?”
“Don’t act so surprised, Iorveth. You knew that intel had to come directly from the Stripes. No other unit knew so much.” 
“I suspected as much. ‘Twas too accurate to be coming from a simple soldier. That’s why I didn’t⁠— we didn’t take things to the edge with you lot.”
“You were trying to find the informant.”
“That, and⁠ I fel—” Iorveth snaps his mouth shut again. “The fuck is in this?” he shakes the bottle and Roche shrugs. The elf groans. “Never mind that. What I don’t understand is why.” 
“Told you, I’m no dh’oine,” Roche lets his tense shoulders fall, gaze fixed on the icy abyss below. “C’mon, must I spell this out for you? You know what, I’ll show you.” 
Carefully, he slips his hands under the chaperon, under the cotton cap and removes the intricate headwear placing it beside him. Fuck, it feels so good to feel the air against his ears, to feel his locks sway softly. He mentally thanks whatever this vodka’s actual ingredients are, for it certainly doesn’t come from potatoes. 
"Who knows?" Iorveth asks, his voice impossibly soft. 
"Geralt and his little polycule," he huffs a laugh remembering the way they found out. Gods bless witchers roaming Velen in their spare time. Roche wouldn't be here if it weren't for them four. "Y'know, except for them, Coën, Ivo, Aiden and Triss are my cousins from my pa's side. Probably shouldn't have said that⁠— fuck."
"Can't believe Foltest had two half-elves commanding his armies," Iorveth chuckles amused and Roche gets an urge he'd very much like to hide from the scarred ex-Scoia'tael. But he can't. Not when Iorveth's eye is glinting with so much glee. Not when for years, Roche denied his heart again and again. 
Vernon Roche can only hum in response, acutely aware of the blush blooming on his face. 
"I am relieved," the elf continues, briefly turning to face Roche before he turns his gaze back to the aftermath of the battle. He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter any more, the Blue Stripes, the Scoia'tael, Temeria. It doesn't matter."
"So what, after this we go back to being strangers? Or should we attempt to kill each other again for the hell of it? I'm tired, Iorveth. Of everything."
"I wanted to," Iorveth says, his expression solemn, "I wanted to hate you Roche. I wanted to hate you, the dh'oine I thought you represented and their- everything, viscerally. I never quite could. Thing is, Vernon, if anything from one commander to another-" 
Iorveth rolls his single eye. "From one ex-commander to another, I held nothing but respect for you."
This confession makes Vernon remember all those times Iorveth stopped his Scoia'tael from killing him. Gods, he should be dead twenty times over and yet- Yet he somehow knew that his nemesis, the one man in the Continent who Vernon respected more than the fucking king, would get him out of harm's way whatever the cost.
"I know." His voice cracks. "And now? Now that you know?"
Iorveth lets out a strangled breath. "Don't ask me this, Vernon. I can't resist the truth-vodka for much longer."
"Then don't. I can take the truth."
Iorveth opens his mouth and closes it again. "Aé a'kar aep a'baeth te." He says in the end. 
"Essea aen minne aep te," the words spill out of Roche's mouth, awkward and possibly with the wrong pronunciation. He closes the distance between them and runs the back of his hand on Iorveth's jawline, the elf's lips enticing, a breath away. 
Iorveth shifts, leaning into the caress, soft scarred lips meeting Roche's unmarred mouth in a chaste kiss. 
"Your Hen linge needs work," the elf murmurs against Vernon's lips. 
"Offer to teach?" 
"I've no other choice." 
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