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cupid-tune · 1 year

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hey uhm could you tell us more about your fantrolls? they all look really cool but i dont know much more about them besides that. :P (also i like jhudas shes very pretty :])

OH ABSOLUTELY!! You have no idea how happy I am to get messages like this! This is gonna be a long post just because I want to get all of my guys in here, apologies in advance!

Not all of my trolls have fully fleshed out backstories yet, but the ones with dancestors are part of a fansession I'm in, they've had the most development by far.

Armane

Armane is probably my most neglected character, but I do really love his design and concept! He's a Burgundy with a lot of fight in him, despite his weak stature. He partakes in a lot of underground fighting rings in lowblood districts, usually to take out his anger or earn a little extra money. He's obviously gotten very hurt from it many times in the past, but that hasn't scared him away from a fight just yet. One of the reasons he gets violent so often is just the fact that he wants to prove himself to be tough and independent, since his lusus is very protective of him and has been ever since he was a wriggler. He's just a little problem child.

Armane is very afraid of death, but he hates mentioning or bringing up any of his fears. In general, he just isn't a very social or talkative troll, preferring actions over words and keeping his distance in any kind of gatherings. You could probably get him to warm up to you easy if you don't pose as a threat, but Armane follows the hemospectrum pretty strictly, and usually won't talk to mid bloods or higher on his own.

Nonemu

Nonemu is the leader of a cult called the Anon Trolls. I haven't done very much with their character in terms of backstory yet, since I really like them as a blank slate for whatever I could use them in. Her cult is meant to serve as an escape from society, living in a commune much more isolated from other trolls. To be apart of the family is to denounce your place in the hemospectrum and completely hide your color, as a way of being treated equally amongst everyone else in the commune. It's unknown what caste Nonemu is, but some say all the possible traits are hidden away, like their eye color for example.

Nonemu is a very kind and patient troll, serving as a sort of parental figure over his commune. He takes great responsibility and pride in his work, and can be quite a mystery to talk to. Nonemu is the type of person to speak in very vague terms, never really being fully truthful or transparent. It's up to interpretation whether or not they can be considered truly kind or malicious with their intentions.

Fennek

Ok Fennek is like. Think of troll Jesse Pinkman and that's what you got. My concepts for Fennek are in general pretty scattered, but his main gig is that he participates in a lot of illegal business as a supplier and seller. Having grown up on internet culture and self study, Fennek has taught himself all kinds of useful skills in advancing his unfortunate position to make the most of life. Chemicals and weapons are his specialty, but his skills and personality are nearly opposite.

Fennek is a very chill and easy-going kind of guy, never really taking any situations seriously. It's a wonder he hasn't died yet with the amount of life threatening risks he puts himself in. The mask really is the only precaution he takes when it comes to working with chemicals or other substances, his hair is probably full of toxic shit. It kind of gives off the idea that Fennek knows he won't live very long anyway, so he doesn't care either way. Live life to the fullest while you can.

Trinet

Admittedly, the dancestor designs are some of my favorites. The first concept for Trinet was that I just wanted a troll who was really into explosives, and oh boy is he into them. Similar to his dancestor, Trinet is an inventor who specializes in bombs. Explosives of any kind! He's very loud, probably due to the fact that his hearing isn't all there. It's probably a Snuzek tradition to just not be properly equipped for the shit you're trying to do, precautions aren't a concern whatsoever.

Trinet is VERY outgoing and active! He talks a lot and fast, you might not catch everything he says. Although his personality kind of gives off the idea that he's dumb or aloof, he's much more impressive when talking about the stuff he actually knows, like how to make this specific bomb or what that compound of elements can make! With how bright and joyful he seems, sometimes the things he talks about can be pretty dark or upsetting. There are lots of themes of death surrounding both Snuzeks, which I'll probably elaborate more on another post.

Zuzu

Zuzu is a whole fucking bundle of fun!! Ok the original concept was supposed to be a DJ troll, but somewhere through the designing process, they ended up turning into a Vocaloid. Centered around a lot of 2010 scene-type themes, Zuzu is an underground music artist and singer trying to make a name for herself. She'll take up any gigs available, hoping to be the party of the life and meet all kinds of trolls. Unfortunately, the music business is tough, and trying to get famous off of it is a lot more work than he initially thought.

Zuzu is the type of troll you'd go to for help or advice, a people pleaser with the full intention of trying to look good in the eyes of everyone. They can be pretty pushy at times, and they're not very good at reading the room. Although Zuzu means well, they fuck up social situations frequently, instead making him seem desperate or clingy. It seems like their emotions are amplified on all sides of the spectrum, one bad day can be a harsh blow for them.

Farrow

Although scary looking at first glance, Farrow is probably one of the most harmless trolls you'll meet. A simple farmer with a goal to live a just as simple life, Farrow is a recluse who lives on the outskirts of the city. They hardly ever interact with other trolls, not after an incident that caused them to lose their vision. A long time ago, Farrow worked as a bounty hunter, usually taking culling jobs as a means of getting trades for other goods. Now Farrow has taken up a more harmless line of work, disposing of the bodies from other troll's dirty work. They'll get rid of anything you might need to hide, using it for their own benefit such as fertilizer or food for their lusus.

In general, Farrow is very close to their lusus, using him as a guide around the farm and other places. Laying low is the next best option, but Farrow really doesn't mind. They are a welcoming troll with a habit of appearing much scarier than they mean to. Whether it be a creepy smile or misjudging you for an intruder, Farrow walks the line of good and bad. They don't really see their actions as immoral, simply understanding that their planet is a cruel place, and they really aren't the worst there is out there.

Fichte

Fichte was my first fan troll ever, originally used as a persona and turned into a dumbass philosopher. He is an absolute stuck up prick and will not apologize for any of his behavior. As cold cut as you can get with someone, Fichte is the type that will upright tell you his intentions and then get upset when you don't follow through with them like he wants. He'll study you, use you for research, and completely discard you after if you aren't of any use to him.

While seemingly emotionally distant, if you spend even a little time with him had he not pissed you off already, you might start to see signs of insecurity or loneliness. Fichte always favors logic over emotions, finding comfort in knowledge rather than the untameable pool of socialization. The subjects he studies varies, but his main interest is philosophy and studying the behavior of other trolls. One thing he especially loves doing is keeping notes of just about everyone he meets, and he has plenty of notebooks filled with just that.

Xarlow

Xarlow is just the guy you'd expect him to be, a silly clown guy with a horrible personality. He likes to consider himself popular and well known, running his own circus with his found siblings and performing to his heart's content. Xarlow specializes in the art of extreme performance, commiting acts of violence against others and himself. His tight corset is in fact one of the self proclaimed "art pieces" of his, using his body as a canvas and thereby destroying it. Speaking of, Xarlow had managed to lose one of his horns by accident during a public show, which ended in him tearing out the other to match. That was not a pretty show.

Xarlow doesn't seek sympathy. He isn't a good person outside of performing and he knows it. The general consensus of his personality is that he's bad, but there are so many personalities to choose from that it becomes confusing at times to pinpoint just one. He's manipulative and cruel, hypocritical at its worse. His history with Fichte is a great example of this cruelty, moirails turned kismesis to what eventually became too toxic to keep. They both hurt each other in their own ways, it's difficult to take sides. One thing is for certain is that their experience has had lasting effects, Xarlow isn't someone you should consider for a quadrant.

Onette

Onette is the definition of a gentle giant. What you see on the outside is entirely what's on the inside, a harmless troll who wants nothing more than to just create and enjoy life. A very soft spoken girl, Onette tries her best to appear harmless and approachable despite her size and caste, dressing in delicate clothing and using a gentle, warm voice to reassure others. Onette has a fascination with creation and art, one of her biggest hobbies being that of making dolls and paintings.

Onette has a certain distain for those in her own caste, often chastising them for their treatment of lowbloods, but doing nothing herself to stop them. She's soft, but perhaps too soft. Onette can be frightened easily, and is extremely nonconfrontational, something that she has a difficult time trying to come to terms with. Ironically, Onette has an interest in purplebloods especially, due to their popularity in being known as clowns. Many of her dolls are inspired by them, which can almost be seen as creepy or obsessive if you stepped into her hive.

Jhudas

Jhudas is very different from her dancestor, nearly opposite in nature. My biggest inspiration for her was the song Brutus, which can be seen in both her design and personality. She is a backstabber, often engaging in violence of all kind just to pave her way to the top. Unlike Onette, Jhudas has a clear hatred for the castes above her, purplebloods especially because she believes they rub their position in her face as being the caste right above. Jhudas deals with anger issues, and will likely explode on you with any minor inconvenience. She works as an assassin, usually taking up jobs from fellow highbloods even if she despises that fact.

Jhudas will be subservient to those she works for, but you can tell there are ulterior motives behind it. Waiting for the right moment to strike, to prove she is above everyone else in order to get what she wants. Despite all this, Jhudas may be one of your best allies, especially in quadrants. She's protective of those she deems worthy, and exerts a lot of tough love if she believes you can do better in handling yourself. It's just advised you should watch your back with her no matter what.

Veictr

Just from looks alone, you can tell what his deal is. Crazy scientist troll with the absolute worst intentions, gleefully using others in his nonsensical experiments all for the name of research. Veictr is just that! Everything about him should tell you that he's dangerous, and he very much is. Having stole the headlight of his dear lusus after a particularly nasty fight, Veictr began his work diving into the world of body modifications and mutation. He managed to find a way to hook the light to his own system, forming a symbiotic relationship with his body and the bacteria just as a symbol of award from his lusus.

Veictr is quite a confusing character in terms of personality, showing absolutely no sympathy for anyone while also being a sweetheart to those who manage to stay alive in his presence. He doesn't mean to intentionally hurt anyone, it just so happens that death and injury occurs when experiments fail. He's quite giggly too, with a hyperactive attitude and a great interest in others, Veictr can make for great conversation. His curiosity knows no bounds, and it really is a wonder how he manages to prove some of his theories correct.

Lucius

Lucius is probably the most unfortunate of my trolls. Having suffered the consequences of their own actions, Lucius managed to find herself trapped at the bottom of the ocean by a certain Fuchsia due to an obsession gone too far. Before this incident, she was considered a dangerous troll, perhaps just as much as her dancestor, but unfortunately, she was shut down far before she could get too bad. Although her entrapment was meant to be her execution, Lucius managed to survive with the help of her lusus, escaping after a sweep of just barely making it out.

Now, Lucius is an entirely different person. After so long of being in isolation, they've become paranoid and weak, suffering the many effects the ocean put them through. What was the most interesting part, however, was the fact that they returned with a strange mutation. It is unknown how exactly it happened, but Lucius now suffers with a bioluminescent stomach, her skin seeming thinner or perhaps even transparent.

Her story breaks off into many directions depending on the context, but one involves the scientific interest her own dancestor took of her after being discovered in this state. I'm currently in the progress of making an animatic based on this particular outcome which I'm very excited about! More lore stuff to be expanded on later.

This is the general information for each of my characters so far! There's a lot more detail I'd like to expand on in separate posts, especially considering I'm trying to cram a bunch into one. I really really appreciate the interest in my characters, and I hope to post more content about them soon! It makes me super happy that people enjoy them as much as I do.

This took a while to make LMAO

#homestuck #homestuck oc #fantroll #oh get ready for these tags #armane cedroc #fennek snuzek #trinet snuzek #zedroi telcho #farrow takshi #fichte nicolo #onette anikin #jhudas anikin #xarlow anowin #veictr loffei #lucius loffei #nonemu #long post

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sapphire-weapon · 8 months

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Sorry to bring more discourse to your blog, but it's about the whole "problematic" shipling thing, because it's a part of older RE plot, that absolutely does my head in. It doesn't fucking make sense. We can talk ALL day about how Leon is canonically responsible for genocides. It's canon that these things have happened because he never has the backbone to finish the job or manage his feelings like a grown adult. It's an interesting talk, but it's NEVER (or very barely) addressed that way in the actual material. His whole "turn the other cheek, because he needs a vague romance" trope is really just one massive fucking plot hole and I don't know why people aren't completely pissed about it. His messy narrative is one of my least favourite things in the series. It almost turns me off of his games and movies entirely. I enjoyed REmake, 7 and 8 the most because at least the characters add up. Their motivations are clear. It's a fully formed story and we know who does what and why. They just haven't fucking done that with Leon. They can't decide on whether to flesh him out properly or to keep throwing him early naughts b-movie tropes that arguably, just make him less likeable (to me).

Sorry for the rant. But holy shit. Anything about his character outside of "I'm angry, let's shoot" has been fucking terrible, in my eyes. They have no idea what to do with him. His choices constantly fucking contradict themselves. He's like a nonstop, unstable "what to doooo?" asshole and I DON'T KNOW WHY ANYONE ELSE ISN'T MAD ABOUT THE CONSTANT PLOT HOLES AND SENSELESS BULLSHIT THIS CHARACTER DOES I HONESTLY DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW HE BECAME MORE POPULAR THAN CHRIS, CLAIRE, WESKER, HUNNIGAN, ETHAN AND JILL OTHER THAN "HE HAS COOL BANGS AND TELLS JOKES SOMETIMES" LIKE WHAT?

I know I'll get roasted and shredded for saying it, but jesus christ man, it's such an enormous pet peeve of mine. I just want the remakes to finish their job of understanding that Leon hasn't been written well and he's gotta be fixed. That Ashley actually has a whole load of potential and Ada has only ever been an empty, racist and sexist stereotype that can't be fixed unless they bother to actually write any sort of story for her other than "sexy Asian is mean sometimes, but her terrorism is okay because the emo boy kissed her this one time and has known her for a combined 15 hours."

Phew. I am mad. I'm sorry for exposing you to this. I've only gotten into RE like less than a year ago and the stupidity and lack of literacy and analysis in this fucking fanbase is crazy to me. If I see one more "sibling coded toxic age gap, Leon is flawless omg ashley little girl so silly" post I'm going to shave my head. Even my phone is glitching because it can't keep up with my seemingly very unpopular rager.

homie i'mma need u to fuckin breathe and understand that this is the same series where the only reason that the main villain ever had to hate the main protagonist was the fact that the main protagonist laughed at his science project -- and then that detail was retconned out of the remake, and now there's no reason for wesker to hate chris at all, actually.

this is the same series that killed off its main villain way too prematurely, realized immediately that they fucked up by doing it, and, instead of just retconning it and bringing him back, they tried to "oops! all weskers!" it, then didn't know what to do with that, then just decided to write it so that he had a son, but then nobody liked him, either, and now they're just going FUCK IT LET'S JUST REMAKE THE WHOLE THING.

this is the same series that is so unabashedly and unrepentantly racist that it sends its white american protagonist into the heart of africa, whereabouts he encounters a village with actual mud huts in it, where the townspeople are dressed in actual tribal clothing, and they chuck actual literal spears at him.

this is the same series where the creators openly admitted to not allowing their main female protagonist to visibly age because they thought it'd hurt their bottom line.

this is the same series where the objectively best title in it has a story that's so fucking bad that the dude who wrote and directed it said that he'd only support a remake of it if the remake fixed his shitty fucking story and actually told a good one.

this is the same series where rachel fucking foley exists and is meant to be taken seriously.

this is the same series where a dude fucking a spider is, questionably and arguably, canon.

leon is not remotely the worst part of resident evil's storytelling, nor is ada the most offensively racist part of it. THE ENTIRE NARRATIVE OF RESIDENT EVIL IS NONSENSE DOG GARBAGE. leon and ada are just par for the course.

if you are not a raccoon and/or opossum who enjoys gorging yourself on garbage, perhaps resident evil is not the series for you.

that's why they called it raccoon city in the first place.

because the playerbase must inevitably be filled with raccoons, because only raccoons would enjoy the sheer amount of garbage that the story throws at them.

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astorythatwritesitself · 2 years

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Shepard AMA round 3

Thanks to @spookyvalentine for putting these together, this is a ton of fun!

1. How often does Shepard use the omni-blade? - Pretty often. Her fighting style is... weird. Either long distance sniping, or close in with a Charge and jab; especially if cloaked. Either way, it's a favorite!

2. What does the Virmire Survivor think of Shepard? - They were pretty good friends! They shared a spiritual streak, an appreciation for the wonders of space, being legacy recruits; Ash even helped Shepard get back into an appreciation for poetry. They were pretty damn close, and that's what made Horizon cut so deep- especially after Ashley had grown to respect Shepard's commitment to integrating with wider galactic society & soundly shutting down any ideas of 'humanity is special', seeing her with Cerberus was a slap to the face. (They did make up, though.)

3. Top three comfort movies: The Blasto series, a 4-hour documentary on Earth's ocean life, and The Princess Bride. (I'm convinced that one'll make it xD)

4. How many languages can they speak (without the translator)? - Adrian made it a point to understand and be mildly proficient in the most commonly used asari, salarian & turian dialects as she was growing up- not great, but she can make herself understood. Additionally, her upbringing & constant moving around has left her with a passing understanding of several other Citadel races' languages- can't speak half of them, but she can understand like, basic directions and the like. (As well as an enormous amount of profanity)

5. Does Shepard keep a log/journal? - She keeps a basic log of events, considering her role, but she also started keeping a personal little scrapbook when she was around ten or so. (Against all odds, it outlived her.)

6. What kind of driver is Shepard? - Adventurous. This is not a compliment, nor necessarily a criticism. (Tali actually wound up taking over a lot of the Mako driving when there was a more pressing mission, because at least she knew how to stay on task-)

7. Shepard witnesses a petty crime. What is their response? - Honestly? If it's something that's not actively hurting someone else, Adrian just... doesn't really give a shit. She might head the perpetrator off and give a lecture/help depending on the situation.

8. Revenge, or the high road? - 80% high road, 20% revenge is nice, actually.

9. What will always distract them? - Nature. Most ground missions are in fact 90% of Shepard actively reining herself in from wandering off because everything is so fucking pretty, yes even the smog-covered glorified asteroids. Virmire in particular was... interesting. It was so awful- but so beautiful.

10. Does Shepard ascribe to any sort of faith? - She was always vaguely religious, but never ascribed to any particular faith until meeting Thane. There's initially some awkwardness because, while drell polytheism isn't closed, converts- especially alien converts- are really fucking rare; they spent a lot of time with the priests and elders on the Citadel for a while. (Adrian finds herself most drawn to Kalahira, incidentally.)

11. Fondest childhood memory? - 👀 This may be getting a more in-depth write up. Short version for now: The first time she experienced a beach on Earth. (At about 16 years old.)

12. Most embarrassing adult memory? - Getting smashed on ryncol and waking up on the bathroom floor... a second time...

13. What does Shepard choose to do about Gavin Archer? - Never did that DLC.

14. Is Shepard the type to gossip? - She doesn't spread much, but she loves to hear what's going on; Mordin and Joker are her favorites when she needs to get some info.

15. How does Shepard react to Garrus’s Archangel reveal? - Disappointed but not surprised. I usually get Mordin before Garrus & I always imagined he had some info; either way, as soon as she heard rumors that Archangel was a turian, she just... knew. She very much hoped he would try to do something more peaceful, but alas.

16. What was the N7 program like for Shepard? - Grueling- but not as much as it could be for other candidates. She'd been preparing for this pretty much her entire life, and failure wasn't an option- not out of any sense of family pride though, but because like fuck was she going to have gone through all that and not reach N7.

17. Go-to karaoke song? - Birdhouse In Your Soul

18. What choice does Shepard make on Rannoch? - The details here are fuzzy, all I remember is Legion died but the ultimate outcome was saving everyone possible.

19. Which kind of reaper do they think is the ugliest - ehh... Omen? Honestly, from a purely aesthetic standpoint, she finds the Reapers fascinating!

20. Can they dance? - Yes... in a partnered dance. Solo, she's godawful and thoroughly aware & uncaring of it.

21. What is Shepard’s relationship with Hackett? - Respectful. She appreciates his assistance and faith in her, but they never became particularly close.

22. What’s their alignment? Paragon, renegade, a mix… - Paragade. She strives to take the high road, but sometimes you've just got to sink low and get threatening. (Basically takes the paragon/charm route as often as possible, but will not back away from some impulse & intimidating options if they'll get the job done.)

23. Got any allergies? How bad? - Nothing in particular.

24. When’s their birthday, and how old are they? - Basic bitch who rolls with canon here; April 11th and 29-31 depending on point in the series.

25. Trash talk or potty mouth - Trash talk on the whole; Shepard swearing is usually a sign that things are going really south.

26. What’s their temper like? - A tsunami. A slow build and sneaks up on her, and nasty once it finally hits- on the whole she manages it well enough, though, but sometimes you get a lot of high stress things in a row and throw a merc out a window... (I'm sorry I can only weigh character more than over the top vindictive gamer moves so often xD)

27. What does Shepard think of Bakara? - Amazing, and a fantastic influence for Wrex. They became fast friends on the Normandy, but unfortunately, things got in the way and that's about it :(

28. A reoccurring nightmare: Akuze.

29. Which news correspondant/journalist does Shepard bring on the Normandy? What’s their relationship like? - ... ok I honestly don't remember this aspect well enough to answer xD

30. Who’s got the biggest crush on Shepard? - Barring her actual boyfriend/husband? For some reason I've always figured Miranda kind of has a Thing. (Garrus and Tali are both lightly smitten, but not quite so much.)

31. What kind of relationship do they have with Dr. Chakwas? Which doctor do they bring her on board for 3, and why? - Overall, very close- Chakwas is up there with Anderson in people to turn to when Shepard has an 'I need an adult' moment. She's good for talking over a problem and getting advice, and the two have commiserated over coming from backgrounds that essentially funneled them into their current lives, and how inescapable it can feel. Chakwas 100% came back because it just isn't the Normandy without her.

32. Who has Shepard’s grudging respect? - For a very brief while, The Illusive Man - guy's a dick of massive proportions, but at least he was doing something about the Collectors. And then he proved to be even more of a dick who could fuck all the way off.

33. Reaction to the window over their sr-2 bed - Startled, but liked it in the end. She's not fond of being completely boxed up, and it can be nice when they're docked planetside.

34. Does Shepard want children? - Not particularly, and she recognizes a lot of it comes down to selfishness- most of her life has felt like putting others first. She doesn't want to keep that up, if she ever somehow leaves the Alliance. That said- she named Kolyat her primary beneficiary after her death (and had she lived, with or without Thane, she would have looked out for him if he was receptive). She also does jokingly call Grunt her son, but they've got a more sibling vibe going on.

35. What does Shepard consider their greatest mistake? - Akuze.

There's a reason she stands and fights every thresher maw she encounters- Akuze was a rare time where she directly disobeyed orders, and ran instead of staying to fight.

Logically, she knows she wasn't going to turn the tide when there were multiple maws attacking, trying to fight was a suicide mission; it was an extraordinary circumstance and deemed an acceptable choice. Still- she broke rank and ran, they stayed and fought. They died, she gets commendations and condolences.

37. Does Shepard ever play matchmaker? - Not intentionally- but she is kind of responsible for Tali & Garrus hooking up, as well as Gabby and Ken.

38. A silly daydream: Leaving the Alliance. Building a home near the beach. Maybe switch to becoming a diplomat or negotiator; something where she can still travel the galaxy and do good, but less violent.

39. What kind of media do they consume the most? - Music. Sometimes audio books, movies are a rare treat because it's difficult to get her to sit down for that long.

40. Favorite ice cream flavor - Dark chocolate with cookie crumbles- but there's also a sorbet from some fruit on Kajhe, she will drop damn near everything to get ahold of it when it's in season.

41. If Shepard has a LI, what would they say are a couple of Shepard’s flaws? And strengths? - Thane would say that they're roughly the same things. She's remarkably determined, and works herself to the bone to resolve conflict and unite everyone possible. But she's treading a fine line between hero and martyr, and there's been some heated words where her desire to save everyone clashes with the reality that not everyone can be saved.

42. Are they quick to laugh, or slow to smile? - Very quick to laugh and smile through ME1. Post-Virmire, and especially ME2, she's still quick but they're significantly shallower and fleeting. Joker amps up the wisecracking because for a long while, he's the only one who recognizes just how fucking bad that was.

43. What does it take to earn Shepard’s trust? - Honesty. Hell, even if you're a chronic backstabber jackass, she'll offer you some trust so long as you're upfront about being a jackass.

44. Top three people shepard thinks are hotties: Thane, Aria, Garrus. (Honorable mention to Matriarch Aethyta.)

45. What’s the easiest way to gross them out? - That's a question the galaxy has yet to answer, and may never get.

46. What are some of their favorite combo moves with team members out on the field? - Tali sending out a drone while Shepard Charges in like a freight train! Other fun options involve the other snipers laying some suppressing fire while she cloaks and gets in close.

47. Can they forgive easily, or are they the type to hold a grudge? - 'Forgive' is a strong word. Overall, she tends to let things go once they're done, unless there's repeated bullshit (see: Council).

48. Does Shepard have a good sense of direction - In the wild? Yes. In stations and urban zones? Just dump her in the Backrooms she's never getting out of there.

49. Did they enjoy their party on the Citadel? - Never got that DLC so it never happened :'D

50. What is Shepard’s ending? - Synthesis.

A lifetime spent in service, to the point where even her death comes by giving up her entire being in the hopes that it will save as many as possible- there's no ethical choice here, she hates it but at least it means minimal death or fucking over of free will. (That & I have some light Synthesis headcanons that make it less altering the galaxy's living and more of a trigger command- that the galaxy achieved a point of creating the Crucible & that they have achieved a balanced cyborg situation... it's very rough draft but i'm the weirdo who actually likes the gist of that ending & also wants their Shepard decidedly dead.)

It's also... very motivated by selfishness. She will be gone. No one and nothing can put her back together for another mission, she can be well and truly done.

(But also- ok so weirdly I'm not big on making 'everyone lives' AUs here, but.

I kind of like to imagine Mordin wound up being at least a little right.

That a couple decades down the line, in a galaxy at peace and finally growing instead of just healing, there's a human and a drell who meet in passing. They get to talking about something, and for a moment- just a second- there's something like the echo of a memory in the way one talks, a gesture they make. They're not high profile, either of them, but if a Normandy survivor saw them... well, it might give them pause.)

+1 …got any kinks? ... definitely, but I've never fleshed it out beyond 'oh she's into something' xD Putting some actual thought into it, I do think a certain sort of praise/worship thing would ping something for her. She's deeply uncomfortable about being singled out in public; but in private, with the right person? Might be a different story...

Ok coming back to this as I've been shaking off the rust and familiarizing myself with everything, I'm not sure how they'd pick up on it but: yeah very praise focused sub.

#mass effect #shep tag #nsft #not in depth or anything just courtesy warning for the bonus question

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winchestershiresauce · 3 years

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High on You

Summary: Smoking weed to relax after a rough day becomes a whole lot more when Daryl joins you.

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

3455 words

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, drug use (weed), almost public sex, fluff, mentions of the bible

A/N: Special thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams for suggestions/edits. This turned out way softer than I originally intended, but I love it. I hope you enjoy!

After the long day you’d had, all you wanted to do was decompress. You’d tried reading, you’d tried sleeping, but you realized you needed something just a little bit stronger. So, with a plan in place, you grabbed your trusty bible and snuck down the stairs. You had to admit, you felt a bit like a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night to get up to trouble, despite the fact that you were a grown woman and the world as you’d known it had ended.

You silently crept out the front door into the night, slowly pulling it closed behind you. It was about two in the morning as you tip-toed across the porch and sat down on the steps of the Alexandrian house you shared with other members of your group of survivors. Setting your leather-bound bible in your lap, you opened it and flipped through the well-loved pages to get to the good stuff inside, but froze when you heard a plank of the porch floor creak from around the corner. You turned around to see Daryl approaching, his crossbow in one hand.

"Can't sleep?" he grunted in your direction, and you subtly closed the worn cover to your Bible as he sat on the step next to you.

"Nah, not after today. You?" you replied, and he merely gave a little shrug.

"Didn't know you was religious." He nodded toward the book in your lap, and you smiled sheepishly.

"I'm, uh, not, actually." He raised his eyebrow at you, expecting you to elaborate or explain, so you opened the Bible and showed him the contents, chewing your lip. About an inch from the edges, the middle of the pages was cut out. In the space that remained was a baggie of weed, a lighter, and pieces of blank pages that had been cut out and trimmed to size for use as rolling papers. Daryl's eyes moved from you to the illicit stash, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yer kidding," he chuckled. You loved the sound of a genuine laugh spilling from his lips: something you didn't hear nearly often enough.

You shook your head and shrugged, "Not at all. The pages are the perfect thickness to roll joints with."

"Yeah, guess I just didn't peg ya for a druggie." You feigned offense, pretending to clutch your pearls, but found yourself laughing as well.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Dixon, but it's the end of the world. Hell if I'm gonna pretend I don't like pot because of the social stigma anymore." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the conversation was happening, and began fiddling with the crossbow in his lap that you weren't sure you'd ever seen him without. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you got to work rolling a nice little joint for yourself and he went back to whatever it was that he was doing with his bolts. When you licked the paper to try to seal it closed, you glanced over to see that Daryl had been watching you.

"Yer not doin' it right. That's gonna fall apart before ya can even smoke it," he critiqued, watching as you frustratedly attempted to turn the twist of weed and paper in your hand into something smokeable.

"I know! I'm just tired and don't wanna waste the paper so I'm trying to fix it!" you retorted.

"Give it 'ere." He reached his open hand out to you, and you rolled your eyes.

"Fine. If you think you can do better, have at it." You felt a little irritated - you knew how to roll a joint, dammit - but placed what was definitely one of the saddest-looking joints you'd ever seen into his outstretched palm. He carefully unrolled it and adjusted the pile of dried cannabis to better resemble the innards of a cigarette. You watched intently, unsure which you were enjoying more: the way he expertly turned your sad mess into a work of art by comparison, or the way the muscles in his forearms tensed and rippled as he worked his large callused fingers at such a delicate task. When he raised the joint to his mouth and licked the paper to form the closest thing to a seal he could get without adhesive, you couldn’t help the quiet reactive groan that escaped from your throat.

“What?” he asked as he continued to lick the paper to finish rolling the joint. You weren’t sure you wanted to answer, as it wasn’t exactly dignified the way that you were eyeballing him, but you did anyway.

“It’s just,” you started and bit your lip a little. “It’s hot when you do shit like that.”

“What?” He sounded incredulous.

You let out a small laugh, you couldn’t believe you were about to say this, “You’re so good with your hands and, I don’t know, the way you licked that just did things to me.” You shrugged, trying to play it off like you didn't just admit to ogling him. He didn’t even reply, just stared at you for a moment. His eyes narrowed a bit and you were pretty sure he thought you were fucking with him. He handed the now nicely-rolled joint to you and you took it, pleased.

In silence, you held the blessed joint between your lips and lit it. Taking a long drag, you inhaled fresh air to push the smoke deeper into your lungs and offered the joint to Daryl. With a slight nod, he took it from you and took a hit himself. You leaned back, blowing the smoke up toward the black night sky, and couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. It was just what you’d needed. For a few minutes, you and Daryl passed the joint between the two of you without speaking. You both reveled in the way the smoke danced into your lungs and escaped from your lips, letting the quiet night and the drugs do their best to calm you.

“Why do ya say shit like that?” Daryl eventually asked. You had just taken a large hit, savoring the feeling as you watched the joint dwindle to almost nothing, and you turned to look at him. He stared off straight ahead, looking utterly entranced with the neighbor’s flower garden.

“Shit like what?” you questioned, letting him have the last hit or two left. You raised your eyebrow at him, confused, since you hadn’t said anything in a while.

“How it’s hot when I do somethin'.” He shrugged vaguely and murmured some sort of noise that sounded close to “I dunno.” He tilted his head slightly and looked at you cautiously. “What ya said before…” You leaned your head back in realization: he really didn’t believe you when you told him he was fucking attractive.

“Because it’s true.”

“Nah.”

“Whatever you say, Dixon. You don’t have to believe me.” You smiled over at him and he let out a noncommittal grunt. You redirected the conversation to something a little lighter, but found things naturally meandering back to a similar topic after only a short while.

"So, how come ya couldn't sleep?" he asked, daring a glance into your eyes.

"Honestly?" you responded, and he nodded. "Well, I needed to decompress after the run today, so I was reading this book and, uh…" You pressed your lips together and decided you were about to share a little too much information.

"And what?" His question was genuine and you weren't sure if he could even pick up on your embarrassment.

"Promise not to laugh?" He regarded you for a moment, but nodded. "Well, I was reading a romance novel," you paused to see if he'd break his promise and laugh, continuing when he didn't, "and it got me a little wound up and made me realize how much I miss sex. You know?" Daryl stared, a little wide-eyed and very unsure of how to respond.

"A book made ya so horny ya couldn't fall asleep?" There was a slight laugh in his voice and you recognized that little twinkle in his eye when he lightly teased you.

"Not exactly, Daryl." You gave him a pointed look. "It just made me think about how long it's been and maybe I kinda miss it. Don't you?" He shrugged. "I guess I just wish some things were easier in the apocalypse. I really wanna be fucked good and hard until I'm begging for mercy." You exhaled forcefully, something between a laugh and a sigh.

"Why don't ya just ask somebody? I'm sure anybody here would help ya." You were honestly a bit surprised at the lack of reaction from him. Very personal conversations weren’t usually his forte, but the weed seemed to have mellowed him out a bit and he didn’t even blush.

"I don't know. That's not quite what I want, I guess. Tara and I fooled around some a while ago but it didn't feel right. I wanna feel something, and the only person I feel something for doesn't seem interested."

"Then they're an idiot." You tried your best to hide the smile that threatened to blossom on your face at his response. He was so genuine, and so sure. It was too bad he had no idea you were talking about him.

"Oh, so are you saying you'd be interested?" The relaxation from the weed had you feeling bolder than usual. You couldn't believe you'd asked, but there was no turning back.

"Not sayin' I'd not be." You could see the pink flush up his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears, and it made you feel warm.

"I see," you replied, biting back a grin. The two of you, again, sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments and you scooted closer to him. You set your hand on his where he'd had it resting on his thigh since he'd set aside his crossbow in favor of the weed. You slipped your fingers between his and you could feel the roughness of his pants beneath your fingertips. He looked up at you, uncertain, but didn't say anything. "This okay?" you asked. Again, he just nodded. He didn't want to risk his voice in case it gave away how nervous he was feeling. The quiet night enveloped you again, but it didn't bother you. You finally felt relaxed and maybe even a bit safe there with Daryl's hand in yours.

Daryl flipped over his hand under yours so you were palm-to-palm and he could wrap his fingers around yours. "Hey, Y/N?" he asked, and you looked up into his eyes.

"Hmm?" you hummed in reply.

"Can I kiss ya?" There was no holding back your grin anymore as the embodiment of strength, masculinity, and independence looked to you for an answer to a question you thought he'd never ask. You reached your hand up to cup his cheek, bit your lip, and nodded.

With that confirmation that you wanted what he did as well, he crashed his lips into yours. At first it was clumsy, like you were just getting to know each other, but soon your mouths moved together in sweet harmony. For a few minutes, you just kissed each other's breath away. Then, almost as if a switch was flipped, suddenly the movements of your mouths and tongues together weren't enough. You swung your leg over his, straddling him, and he immediately slid his hands down to cup your ass and drag you into his lap.

Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him, desperate for friction. With one hand, he pulled your hair behind your shoulder so he could place open-mouthed, hungry kisses across your jaw and throat. You could feel how hard he was beneath you and it only made you more desperate. Heat pooled between your legs, your pussy wet with anticipation as you kissed and groped each other like a couple of teenagers. You would've been glad the whole town was asleep if you'd had enough thought to care about how you looked at that moment.

"Fuck, Daryl," you panted, trying to catch your breath as he took it away. One hand had moved from your ass and began to paw at your breasts through your shirt. Pressing your center down on him, he bit your bottom lip and you pulled him closer as if you were trying to meld your bodies together. He let out a low groan that rumbled through his chest, and you giggled. He cocked his head at you in confusion.

"What?"

"Sorry, sorry." You continued to giggle, "I just can't believe we're doing this."

"Why's 'at?" You loved the way his words slid together like he was drunk on your touch (though, logically, you knew the weed likely had something to do with it).

"I've wanted you for so long, Daryl Dixon." You put a hand on either side of his face and looked right into his eyes. Goosebumps creeped up your skin as his rough fingers caressed your sides under your shirt, and you bit your lip before reaching for the hem of your t-shirt. You swore his eyes sparkled as he watched you pull the fabric up and over your head.

"Yer so beautiful," he sighed before ducking forward to wrap his lips around your nipple. Your fingers tangled in his hair and a loud moan escaped your lips as he flicked his tongue over the hardening bud. You tugged his head back to make him look up at you and he melted at the soft smile on your face.

“Daryl,” you whispered and he quirked his eyebrow up at you. “Do you want to take this inside?” You weren’t exactly shy but if you were being honest, you didn’t want to share the moment with anyone who may also have trouble sleeping and happened upon the scene. He nodded and you pressed your lips to his again before moving off of his lap.

The two of you had barely made it in the door to his basement room when he had you backed up into the wall. The pressure of his mouth on yours was more delicious than you’d imagined and your knees grew weak as his scruff tickled the skin around your lips. You were surprised at the way he had taken the lead in this dance, but you were far from complaining about it. Loving the way he felt against you, you moved your hand to rub him through his jeans. He was rock hard and pressed against the seam of his pants, making him groan as you pressed into him.

You began to unbuckle his belt but stopped when you felt his breath hitch against your skin. You looked up at him to find his eyes closed and what you hoped was a look of bliss across his face. When he felt your movements stall, he opened his eyes and caught your soft look of uncertainty.

“Wha’s ‘a matter?” He moved his hands so his thumbs rested at your temple.

“Just want to make sure you want this.”

“‘Course I want this.” The rough calluses of the pads of his thumbs brushed down the soft skin of your cheekbones and your lips surged up to meet his. Your fingers continued their delicate mission with his belt before unbuttoning his pants. His hips bucked up to meet your warm palm as you slid your hand between the cotton of his boxer briefs and the denim. Daryl’s hands slowly made their way down your body and found themselves at the button of your own jeans. As his fingers made quick work of the button, you slid your hand around to his hip so you could feel him pressing you heavily into the wall behind you. You gasped at the feeling of his hard length pressed against your center and the moan that left your lips as he rolled his hips into yours was downright sinful. His mouth quickly found yours again and he swallowed down your moans as his talented fingers found their way to your slick folds.

“Yes!” you cried as the tip of his middle finger circled your clit. Your breath eluded you as you felt something shift in his demeanor. Suddenly, Daryl was shoving your jeans and underwear to the floor as you frantically grabbed for the hem of his shirt, barely detaching your mouths long enough to pull it over his head. The feeling of your wetness against his skin was so perfect that he couldn’t even find the energy to be anxious or ashamed as your hands danced over the scars that littered his back. His clothes quickly joined yours on the floor and he thought he might lose it at the sigh that escaped your lips as his cock brushed against your core. You lifted one leg to drape over his hip so he could better access your excited pussy. With one hand, Daryl fisted himself and teased you as he slid his tip over your entrance and through your slick. His other hand moved to your ass to lift you up and give him a better angle.

As he thrust into your wet heat, he growled against the delicate skin of your throat. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt anything so perfect as when he buried himself in you. The way he filled you to the brim made you tremble, and Daryl paused to try to get himself together. The way your walls clenched around him would be the end of him, he was sure of it.

“Daryl,” you whined, “I need you to move. Need to feel you.” That was enough to snap him out of his reverie and he pulled back just to slam himself into you again. You let out a cry and tightened your grasp around his shoulders and squeezed your legs tighter around his waist.

“Ya feel so good,” he rasped in your ear as he pounded into you again and again. The way he slammed into that sweet spot with each thrust was divine and you couldn’t get enough. You felt the familiar warmth begin to bloom below your belly button as he dragged you toward your peak.

“You feel incredible. Don’t stop!” Your voice was much higher pitched than usual as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge. His grip on your ass tightened and you wouldn’t have been surprised if there were bruises forming where his fingers pressed deep into your cheeks as he held you in place and fucked you like you’d only dreamed he would.

“Fuck,” you chanted and Daryl’s breaths became staccato as the friction built between you. You could feel his pace quicken and his rhythm stuttered as you tumbled over the edge of your climax. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder as you came, feeling your whole body shudder. Daryl fucked you through your peak as the waves of his own orgasm crashed over him. The feeling of him spilling hot inside of you made you dig your nails into his biceps as if you could cling to the sensation. He placed surprisingly soft kisses along the bottom of your jaw as his breathing began to even out.

“That was—holy shit—exactly what I fucking wanted,” you sighed and let yourself collapse into his chest as he set you down.

“Good, now let’s get some sleep.” Daryl pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and moved to steer you toward his bed.

He lifted the blanket so you could crawl in and he followed right after. As you settled in, you couldn't help but curl up against his side, his warmth engulfing you as he tucked his arm around you. You turned to face him and placed a kiss on his chest when you felt him tense beneath you.

"What?" you asked, and you felt him shake his head.

"Mmm," he started, collecting his thoughts. "Jus' wonderin' if this is a one-time, we're high kinda thing or—"

"I hope not." You wrapped your arm around his torso and craned your head to look up at him. "I meant what I said earlier about wanting you for a while, and not just 'cause you're sexy." He scoffed but you felt him relax again, and he pulled you closer in to his side. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home. There was nowhere you'd rather be than contentedly tucked into his side, his bare skin pressed softly against yours.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x you #The Walking Dead #daryl dixon imagine #walking dead imagine #daryl x you #daryl x reader #friends to lovers

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rotshop · 3 years

Text

get prankt this isn't an angst fic lol ,,

ANYWAY ,, i realized earlier that i could've just been calling 'auditor reader' employer reader this whole time and then i had a funny silly goofy little idea and now we r here,,,lol,,, ill proof read this later but i did this in one go no breaks so . help.

I might continue this later so!! consider this a sort of 'introduction' if u will,,

note ; auditor uses he / she / they pronouns in this bc ive decided im just going to push my propaganda onto all of you <333 also Hank uses he / they / xe

tw ; dissociation, dereality, some light body horror

Bloody Management

"This is out of your jurisdiction. You've wasted enough time here," you seethed dryly, staring down at the shorter being. "You've made no progress and have only proved your operation to be a strain on our relations and resources."

"Out of MY jurisdiction? YOU'VE never even been there before! You think you can just storm in and suddenly kick me out of my own work?" Auditor shot back, hands slamming down on the mahogany desk in front of her.

"Yes, actually, I do," you snapped, eyes narrowing. "I think you're forgetting just who you're speaking to. You've let this drag on for far too long and your ego has grown in tandem with its pointlessness."

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continued. "Look, I understand. You put effort and thought into this little pet project of yours, but the results have all proven zilch. You fucked up, that's fine, but you can't keep meddling with this reality in hopes something will suddenly work again! All you're doing is tearing and poking holes the rest of us will have to deal with later."

"If you just gave me a little more time I could-"

"We've been giving you time. We've given you more time than we've ever given any project like yours," you gave a desperate look, "It's over. You tried and we tried, there's nothing that can be done. If you just worked with us then we could help you."

There was a long silence as they faltered, hands falling into their lap as their gaze followed, landing on the floor.

"And what happens to my Nevada?"

"We'll try and clean it up again. Return it to..some sort of normalcy," you hummed, "Though, with some of those tears in the fabric it'll take a bit longer than anticipated. That..clown, is proving to be rather difficult."

You paused, grin finding it's way onto your face.

"It's been tricky, if you will."

"Not the time."

You gave a 'tsk' in response, shrugging lightly, "I don't regret it."

"You'll be going back to our depths, effective immediately. While this project was a failure, we're still curious to see if there's anything else that can be done in a different time and place."

"And what about you? Are you going to sit all pretty in this fake office for the rest of eternity?" She questioned sarcastically, eyes dragging up to meet yours.

"God, I wish. I mean, seriously, you have no idea how nice it is to have some peace and quiet after dealing with that fuckin' office."

With a dry snicker and -presumably- an eye roll, they finally stood accepting their defeat.

"I presume I'll be seeing you?"

"If your little posse doesn't cause me too much trouble, yes."

"Have fun with that, I do hope it's as grueling as possible," he hummed, turning and striding towards the door to nothing.

"Thanks, was nice seeing you too."

The door peering to the void shuts soundlessly.

"Was the pun really that bad?.."

---

"What do you mean they're just neutral suddenly? It's not like they all just suddenly unionized or sum' shit! There's gotta be something going on," Deimos groaned, irritation dragging onto him and clinging desperately.

"Well- What do you want me to say! I'm just as confused as you are," Sanford huffed back over comms, making a vague gesture with no audience.

Hank stood in the other room, staring down at the few agents that were on their knees with their hands held tight behind their heads. They'd made no attempt to attack Sanford and xem, simply staring in a bit of surprise when the two'd busted in. It'd completely thrown the raid off, leaving them both in a state of stunned confusion. The agent that they'd asked about the sudden change in demeanor just gave some shaky shrug, stammering out that they'd all received an order to not attack under any circumstances from some unknown contact. 'They really just listen to anyone then?..'

It was hard to believe, hard to find any reason or meaning in that lead to any conclusive endings. Which, had lead to a small dispute going nowhere and fast. Hank only picked up on little parts of it, the words being muffled and distorted through the wall. Xe didn't really have much interest in getting a clearer reading of it though, it didn't sound like it meant much.

"Look, I'm just going to try and look for any documents or actual recordings of this apparent 'ghost order,' alright?..." A pause. "Deimos? Are you there? Shit- Of course the line dies now of all times."

The line wasn't dead. It was somewhere else, some-when else.

---

The ground felt cold.

No, was it warm?

Wait- No no no, it wasn't warm..

Was it even the ground?

Did it even matter?

Deimos could fuzzily recall it. Arguing with Sanford over the line. The points he made exactly didn't seem to ring through the fog of confusion and numb in his mind. Something about the Auditor, the agents, blah bla..something.

He'd been making to say something else when he'd seen it, something off in the corner of his eye. It wasn't anything huge, if you asked him he wouldn't even be able to tell you what it was. There was something wrong, but there wasn't. The ground was cold, but it was warm.

Something was wrong.

Everything is fine.

He'd turned around, looking around for whatever in his vision wasn't right.

That's rude to say, you know.

He'd never found it, something reaching from the depths to grab him.

You're making me sound awfully cruel.

With a groan, he picked himself up off the ground to observe his surroundings. White and black stretched infinitely around him, the 'ground' underneath him was the deepest of not-color while the 'sky' was its blinding twin. A building stood in front of him, a mix of ivory and ink twisted to form its structure. The door faced him, standing tall and straight as a soldier in spite of how tilted and off the world felt.

Before he could even really register it, something was pulling him up off the floor. There were no hands or strings physically attached, nothing sticking from him to drag into the infinite beyond his comprehension, no no. It was something quiet, a ghost or a whisper in his mind that pulled him through the ocean and to shore. The door grew larger- closer. His mind grew blanker. His hand twisted the knob.

Color flooded into his vision finally, the room in front of him coated in it graciously. The floors were a velvet carpeting, a wine red that felt of lavish and glitzy. The walls were lined in bookshelves, each filled to the brim with titles somewhere between poetry and latin white noise where imagination fell. At the head of the room stood a desk, polished mahogany standing tall and still, frozen indefinitely in time. Behind it, you.

Me.

Once again, he was pulled forward. Each step fell in front of the other, unsure of weight behind them and noise that followed suite. He felt half there. Half of a man and half of a void. It was..something.

Not pleasant, not bad.

The ground wasn't cold, wasn't warm.

It just was.

He finds himself meeting your gaze as he plops down into one of the seats in front of you. He finds his neck straining and bowing under phantom limbs that aren't there. He finds his eyes training on yours which stare back pointedly, finds himself between hot and cold. He finds himself sitting down before you as he watches from the window.

There's no window in the room.

"You must be so confused."

Your voice is in front of him, right? That's where you are, so your voice should be coming from there. It isn't though. It's around him somewhere. Even as you tilt your head to the side the noise of your own voice doesn't seem to follow it.

"Don't think too much on this all, alright?"

You mutter something. 'These grunts really weren't made for this- to be here. I'm surprised he even woke up.'

Someone nods in agreement.

"Wh..who are you?"

Is that his voice? It is. It has to be, it fell from his own mouth. He barely even felt it move. Is it his mouth? It has to be.

You pause for a moment, seemingly caught off guard. He doesn't know if its because he spoke or because of what he asked. Nobody clarifies.

"Why don't you call me [name]? That'll be easiest for you. I do apologize for dragging you here rather than appearing there," you hum, leaning forward on your desk. "I just wanted to make sure we had the utmost privacy."

I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be able to forget.

"Now, Deimos," is that his name? "I need to tell you something, I have to work on restoring things for you, so I can't deliver this message to everyone myself in the most..effective of ways. You won't mind filling your friends in for me, right?"

He doesn't answer. He can't. His tongue is lead and his mouth is stuck shut, if he opens it will surely be left that way for the rest of infinity- for the rest of this place, this time. Someone says yes in his voice.

"Good. Now, try to listen carefully..."

---

He wakes up on sand. He's sitting up quickly, stilted as his mind finds his body. His tongue is lighter, teeth separated once more as his jaws are their own entities again. The cliff is still under him, wind passing by him peacefully. The horizon stretches infinite.

The ground is warm, there's no mistaking it.

"Deimos? Are you there?"

He pauses briefly.

"I need to tell you guys something."

#deimos x reader #SORTA???????#I MEAN. U GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS HIS ASS SO LIKE. TAKE THAT AS U WILL...#idk he's definitely in gay love w/ you but like in that 'aha hey bestie what if we kisses and you were a cosmic horror :flushed:'#madness combat imagines #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madcom x reader #auditor reader #employer reader #<- gonna be usin that tag too now ig??

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

Text

Rockin' the Suburbs: Chapter 4

chp1 chp2 chp3 or read on ao3

After an afternoon of failed research attempts, Dean found himself carrying an excited Jack in his arms, walking up the sidewalk, hand in hand with Cas. Which didn't immediately send Dean's mind running wild because it honestly was starting to feel natural. Which of course is what sent Dean's mind running, but at least the act of Cas grabbing his hand wasn't the real source of the freak out anymore.

Dean's fine by the way. Totally cool and normal and under control.

"You ready?" Dean asks as they come to a stop at the back gate.

"As I'll ever be" Cas quips, giving Dean's hand a squeeze, which he gratefully returns.

"Holy shit" Dean gasps, jaw-dropping, head quickly snapping towards Cas.

"I agree completely...." Cas trails off, as he drags Dean further into the backyard.

There were people, food, drinks, tents, music blasting, and lights strung up everywhere. And a giant fire pit in the center, with crowds of people hovering around it, roasting marshmallows and hotdogs.

How many people lived in this damn neighborhood?

"So see any fugly faces?"

"If you're talking about demons, then no-"

"Well, what about that lad-"

"No she's no-"

"What about that group, those guys seem kinda-"

"No Dea-"

"Okay well, what about th-"

"Dean if I see a demon I'll be sure to let you know, promptly" Cas sighs, clearly exasperated, which only causes Dean to smile wider.

(read the rest under the cut)

"Okay.....but what abo-"

"Hi guys! Oh my god, we're so glad you decided to come!"

Their heads snap over to see Molly and Jason making their way towards them.

"Time to schmooze with the capitalists" Dean whispers to Cas, earning an elbow jack to the rib, but when he looks over, he sees amusement in Cas' eyes.

"Your home is lovely" Cas gushes when they're within earshot.

"Yeah, this is quite the rager you've got going on back here" Dean muses, earning bright smiles from the pair.

"Thank you! But Amanda's already managed to find at least ten things wrong with the decor, or the lights, or the food" Molly grumbles, as Jason gently rests his arm around her waist.

"Seriously, and Bill picked up every bottle of wine and inspected the year. As if these people aren't drunk enough to even care about the aged taste" Jason continues with an eye roll.

"Oh! Speaking of drinks what can we get you? We've got beer, wine from the wrong years, whiskey, scotch? You name it we've got it"

Shit. Dean hasn't had to talk about this with anyone outside of his family, but his dumbass should have thought about it. He is a party after all.

"Oh um..." Dean starts, but trails off realizing he didn't actually think through what he was going to say. His mouth has been doing that a lot lately.

"Oh we actually don-"Cas rushes in, giving Dean's hand a squeeze, which makes Dean's breath hitch.

Dean was floundering like an idiot and Cas cut in to help. That stupid, undiscussed swirling feeling dancing in his stomach, and he also can't help the dopey grin that spreads across his lips.

"I actually don't drink anymore, not since this little bug came around. But Cas here will definitely take a beer" Dean smiles, giving Jack a little bounce in his arms.

"Dean are you sur-"

"Yeah babe, it's good. I promise. Have a beer, you dork" Dean says turning to fully look at Cas so he gets that he means it. And he must because Cas gives a small smile back, which definitely doesn't make his stomach flip.

They turn back to the pair, praying they get the memo so Dean doesn't have to explain any further.

"Oh! So we have water, seltzer soda. We've got sprite, rootbeer-" Molly quickly moves to offer.

"A coke is good if you have it" Dean interrupts before Molly lists every single brand of soda they've got. And with a nod, Jason jogs off to get their drinks.

"Oh! Jack's probably itching to play with the rest of the kids. There's a whole section set up on the far side of a yard, keeping them far away from that fire pit! But don't worry, a handful of the parents are taking shifts" Molly rushes to add, as she points them in the right direction.

The two turn to follow her finger, Dean's eyes blowing wide at the sight. Four different size bounce houses, two jungle gyms, a huge sandbox, and pretty much every toy you can imagine. And yeah there's things definitely for toddlers, but Dean can only focus on the height of the slides and the amount of kids jumping inside that inflatable nightmare.

His hold only tightens around Jack, as he glances down hurriedly at Cas. But to his surprise Cas isn't gazing horrified at kid-sized deathtraps, he's smiling brightly, eyes shining.

Dean's gotta put his foot down. There's no way, it's too dangerous

"I don't know Jack's neve-"

"Exactly, why he should. There is more than enough equipment his size, and looks like there's plenty of kids around his age. And we both agreed it would be good for him to play with more children his own age, remember?" Cas supplies calmly, resting a hand over his shoulder. The heat radiating through Dean's jacket is doing nothing to put him at ease.

"Yeah but that fire-"

"Is perfectly safe. See, there's at least six parents over there right now. We can even take a shift watching the kids soon if you'd like?" Cas offers in the same tone, eyes shining with sincerity. And Dean manages to pull his gaze away long enough to glance over at the kids' party zone again.

There's a sort of gate squared off in the corner of the yard, with a large and small bouncy house, and what looks like a group of parents watching every move intently.

Cas is right. Jack will be fine. Of course, he will be. And if he's not, they'll just kill whoever's responsible. Stupid angels and their stupid sound logic.

"Alright, you're right" Dean sighs in defeat, as he gears up to walk across the yard. Besides Dean can probably use this as a chance to talk to some of the other paren-

And it happens so fast Dean almost misses it.

But he sure as hell feels it.

There's a heat on his cheek that quickly comes and goes, but there's a lingering warmth that blossoms in its place, spreading across his entire face and down his neck. Lighting shooting through his veins with a jolt, and of course that swirling feeling is back.

What the hell?

Dean's slowly turns towards the source and sees Cas smiling up at him. There's a nervousness dancing behind his features, the kind that's only visible to the trained eye. His hand his still on his shoulder, but he's closer now-wait.

Dean's entire brain short circuits as it works to catch up with the rest of his body, most importantly with his face and that whole lightning thing going on.

Then his brain finally snaps back into action, sending his stomach flipping, that swirling thing looping right along with it.

Because Cas kissed him.

Cas kissed him. On the cheek. Like it was nothing.

And the culprit refocuses in his vision, still smiling up at him anxiously, blue eyes searching his features. And Dean without even thinking, smiles back, which seems to settle Cas.

"I'm very proud of you for making the mature fatherly decision, now go! I'm sure Jack's dying for a turn on that bouncy thing" Cas teases, shoving Dean away, and he vaguely hears Molly giggling behind him. Dean doesn't even have time to process what he said before he's walking across the grass.

Actually, Dean isn't processing anything at the moment.

Because Cas just kissed him on the cheek like it was nothing, and Dean's face is on fire while his heart does its damnedest to pound its way out of his chest. Because now Dean Winchester is having a flustered meltdown over a friggin kiss on the cheek like he's thirteen again?

But it was more than that. Because he sure as hell didn't think Cas would go for it first so what i-

Dean almost stalls, but quickly forces his feet to keep moving as his stomach twists.

Because that feeling, the feeling Dean doesn't talk about is swirling in his stomach, bubbling upwards, trying t-nope.

Dean clenches the hand, that isn't currently supporting Jack, into a fist, nails digging into his palm. It was just a peck on the cheek it didn't mean shit. They had talked all about PDA, and both agreed to it, so that's all it was. It was a kiss for the sake of the case, all for the act.

So Dean tries to shove it from his mind, but failing to get rid of the warmth still radiating through his body and the tingling on his cheek. But hey, he isn't perfect.

He thankfully makes it over to the kid's section in one piece, but unfortunately, an over-excited mom immediately spots him.

"Hi I'm Maria, I don't recognize you, so must be one of our new neighbors!" Maria practically cheers, and Dean doesn't buy her false enthusiasm for a second, but he plasters a smile on his face ready to play the part.

"Yeah I'm-"

"I spotted you and your husband carrying boxes in yesterday! Didn't look like you had very much hmm?" Maria continues as if she hadn't heard him. And Dean didn't miss that little dig and he definitely didn't miss the way she emphasized husband.

"Yup that's me, Dean Richardson, and this is my son Jack" Dean says before she has a chance to cut him off again.

"Pleasure to meet you two! Now I assure you Jack is in good hands, you've got some of the best parents on duty right now!" Maria jokes and Dean has a feeling she's a little tipsy, which only increases his nerves. At least there's some other capable-looking parents standing around.

Maria continues to chatter loudly about god knows what, so he ignores her opting to carefully stand Jack on the ground, crouching to his level.

"Alright Squish, you're gonna hang out over here and have some fun with the rest of the kids! Me and your Dad are going to be right over there" Dean says excitedly, which only makes Jack even more excited.

"So if you need us, you tell one of the other grown-ups, and we'll come right over. And remember the rules kiddo? No mojo, capiche?" Dean reminds, whispering the last part.

"Capeesh!" Jack promises and Dean can't help but smile. So reluctantly, he presses a kiss to Jack's hair, and gently nudges him towards the other kids, watching as he runs away laughing.

"He's such a little cutie! Oh look he's playing with my Ella" Maria gushes while Dean silently prays Jack will drop that kid so he doesn't have to Maria and her false sweetness, ever again.

"Yeah, adorable. Anyway, my husband and I will gladly take a shift watching the little rugrats a-"Dean starts trying his best to sound like he doesn't want to strangle her.

"Oh no I wouldn't dream of it! It's your first party in the neighborhood, we have more than enough capable parents on duty tonight! Get back to your husband, drink, mingle!" Maria interrupts shoving him away, and Dean has no choice but to obey, unless he wanted to cause a scene. Which he did want to, because he was practically fuming from that subtle dig at capabilities at a parent, but he couldn't he had the damn case to think about.

And with a final glance to assure Jack was okay, Dean quickly surveys the crowd, easily spotting Cas' leather. He begins to make his way over, but suddenly the memories from five minutes ago come rushing back leaving him frozen.

Cas had kissed him-yeah it was on the cheek, but it was a kiss nonetheless. And that stupid swirling feeling began to bubble up in his stomach, unable to move as the-

"Dean, over here man!" Jason calls from across the yard, effectively kicking Dean's back into gear, as he made his way over to them.

Stuff it Winchester, focus on the case. It's all for the case.

So Dean jogs, over stopping next to Cas, who was lightly laughing along with Jason and Molly. Jason hands him a bottle, an honest-to-god glass bottle of Coke. They probably had to buy hundreds of these, must have cost a fortune.

"Is Jack all settled?" Cas asks, the slight worry on his face. And so without thinking, Dean takes his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Yeah babe, kiddo is having the time of his life over there," Dean says with a sweet smile, pet name rolling off his tongue like nothing as he meets his eyes. Cas only responds with a smug smirk that says "I told you so", which definitely didn't make Dean's stomach flip.

"So, new neighbors let's get the good gossip out of the way before the bitch squad corners us. Tell us about yourselves! What do you guys do for a living?" Molly teases, effectively snapping them out of their staring contest.

Showtime

"Well I'm a mechanic, still looking for a good space in the area to set up shop, but Cas here is all set with a position at Amherst College in the sprin-" Dean begins, gushing about Cas like a proud husband.

"Dean, of course, is wildly underselling himself. He specializes in classic car restoration" Cas cuts in also like a proud husband, but there's a hint of sincerity in his voice that twists Dean's heart.

"Wow! So that gorgeous Impala really is your's after all?" Molly asks in awe.

"Yeah that's my Baby, rebuilt her after a crash a while back, she's been in the family for years" Dean shrugs, hand instinctively reaching for the back of his neck, but he can't help the little sense of pride that swells in his chest. He feels Cas squeeze his hand, but before he can glance over Jason starts talking.

"And Cas, Amherst that's impressive! What course do you teach?"

"English literature, and global history" Cas answers. They decided to tack on the history on account of Cas knowing pretty much all of history, and that it might be an in seeing as weirdo rich people are often weirdo history buffs.

"Oh I actually teach history over at the high school" Jason reveals, and Dean has to hold back a laugh.

Weirdo rich people, weirdo history buffs. Score.

"Well looks like we're surrounded by academics! Amherst, an incredible school, but that's a bit of a commute from here, isn't it?

"Oh it's not too bad, and the drive is all worth it if we get to live in this beautiful neighborhood. But what about you, Molly?" Cas deflects smoothly shooting them a charming smile-that Dean definitely didn't find charming.

"Oh, I'm a real estate lawyer. That's how we're in this gorgeous neighborhood" Molly jokes, Jason laughing along.

Real estate law, Dean tucks away that info for later because maybe that's how they got their house on the market and sold so quickly.

"Hey everyone, sorry to interrupt but we just wanted to introduce ourselves to the new neighbors," A shorter man says as he appears on the other side of Cas, with another man in tow.

"Oh come join the real party, anything to stay away from those vultures" Molly snorts with an eye roll, earning a laugh from everyone.

"I'm Tom, and this is my husband Stephen" The man, Tom, supplies as they each stretch out a hand. Dean reluctantly lets go of Cas' hand, and as they each shake their's, exchanging greetings.

Turns out Tom and Stephen live right across the street from them. Great, they're gonna have to get in extra good with them, because they might have seen something the night of the murders.

"So, we were giving these two the rundown on our lives, before Amanda and Bill start circling" Molly groans, and Tom and Stephen launch into discussing what they do for a living. Dean, of course, listens very intently, as he tries not to think about the sudden loss of warmth in his hand.

But he really doesn't have to think too long because he finds Cas' arm is curling around friggin waist.

Dean's eyes instantly snap up, as he tries to keep his expressions in check, but he can feel the heat creeping over his cheeks. Cas only gives him a nervous look, which makes Dean's chest tighten at the sight. Damnit.

Because yeah Cas keeps taking the lead, but he's never actually done this before, he's just doing what he thinks he should do. Cas must be anxious as fuck. And Dean's general "lets never talk about emotion or affection" attitude, probably isn't helping. He's the one who knows what to do, he should be helping ease Cas into this more, not having breakdowns every time they make eye contact.

So without really thinking, Dean slightly leans into Cas, causing him to wrap his arm around him tighter. It clearly settles Cas' nerves, because that worried look is gone, replaced with a smile, before he turns his head back to the conversation.

And Dean figures since Cas is listening, it's okay to tap out for a moment. Because excuse him, but Cas' arm is around his fucking waist, not even 20 minutes after he kissed him. Dean's just surprised he isn't passed out on the ground yet.

And that feeling-the feeling Dean of course doesn't talk-about is back and swirling around his stomach, threatening to bubble up his throat. It's making him feel nauseous, as his heart thumps against his chest.

But he can't exactly bring himself to care because there's a warmth washing over his body in waves. The heat of Cas' arm around his waist and shoulder resting against his own, radiates through his jacket. Dean can smell the worn leather mixing with Cas' cologne as he tries to focus back in on the conversation-what is he doing.

He's supposed to be getting info about the neighbors, and all he can think about is Cas' arm around his waist. Which is only there to keep up the act, and it doesn't matter that it fee-nope not even gonna go there.

Focus Winchester.

"-but enough about work, how did you two meet?" Dean catches Molly asking, and thank god he chose that moment to pull it together.

So Dean quickly meets Cas' eye. Both knowing they have to nail this part if they plan to gain anyone's trust. They hadn't exactly rehearsed it, but they are best friends who've spent over a decade lying for a living. They've got this.

Dean takes a steadying breath, ignoring the swirling and the warmth and the heart rate.

"Well, it was back in 2008. I was sort of going through a bit of a rough patch at work and was frequenting the local bar a bit too much. But maybe the hangovers were worth it, because one night this guy with wild hair and baby blues strolled in and happened to sit at the other end of the bar. And just my luck he looked about just as much of a mess as I did-no offense babe" Dean began putting on a show, and Cas rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, you didn't look half the mess that I did" Cas teases dramatically. Cas then gave him a look, leveling Dean with an arched eyebrow, causing laughter to bubble around them.

"Yeah yeah Casanova, we both looked a wreck okay? So much of a wreck that we apparently felt so sorry for each other, that we unknowingly bought one another a drink"

"After the bartender pointed out who bought me the beer, I looked up to see it was the person I had just bought a drink. So I figured he was worth a little conversation, and I moved to sit on the stool next to him" Cas continues, throwing a wink at Dean.

Damn they were good at this.

"And it turned out we were both walking disasters. I was out of a job, and Cas here had just gone through the world's worst breakup-"

"We had been together for years, and I had decided I'd had it. It was a mess, his whole family got involved. But I guess it was a good thing it was such a disaster, or I never would have gotten a drink from the gorgeous man at the end of the bar" Cas cuts back in, which definitely didn't make Dean's cheeks flare.

"Anyway, we got to talking, probably overshared way too much with a complete stranger, and called it a night. But I thought I'd be crazy to let him get away, so I practically chased him down on the street to get his number. And god was I lucky he didn't think I was a creep-"

"Actually I thought it was very romantic. Like a movie, too bad it wasn't raining. But honestly, I was just lucky he didn't think I was a creep when I called to ask him on a date the next morning" Cas jokes, earning another laugh from the group. Dean quickly surveys their faces to see that they're hooked. Time for the grande finale.

"And really the rest is history, we just sorta clicked. It sounds like bullshit, but it was like we were made for each other ya know? Cas just always knew what to say, always knew what to do to, understands me better than anyone else, helps me through every obstacle. I guess you could say he basically pulled me out of hell. And he still does, every day. There's no one else in the world I'd rather have by my side" Dean gushes, tacking on the hell line as a joke, but it didn't exactly sound like one. No, it sounded like the most sincere thing Dean's ever said, and he quickly realizes that it's not part of the act. He really means it.

He glances back over at Cas to see him slightly slack-jawed, gazing at him in soft wonder. Dean's heart picks up again, stomach swirling as he makes a little fist to ground himself.

Because of course, he means it Cas is his best friend, he's family that's nothing new. But it's more than that and yo-nope. Focus. Cas is only looking at him like that as part of the act, he's playing up.

Dean quickly tries to wrack his brain for something to say, but thankfully Molly cuts in.

"God aren't you two just the cutest, sappiest couple in the entire world! Oh my god, you're like a romcom. The perfect couple" Molly practically shouts earning a laugh from everyone and nods of agreement.

"Trust me, it wasn't as simple as a romcom. We fight, and we scream, but we always come back to each other" Cas says earnestly, looking right into Dean's eyes.

And Dean's pretty sure his heart is gonna burst through his chest because Cas' heart eyes look pretty damn convincing and it's sending his thoughts running. But thankfully, Tom and Stephen start telling the story of how they met, so Dean can thankfully push those thoughts aside. For now.

And after an hour of small talk, Dean and Cas have got a pretty good grasp on the people they're dealing with.

They learn that Stephen and Tom are both doctors at the same hospital, they have three-year-old daughter named Elizabeth. And with a glance over at the kids' section, they see that she and Jack are playing together. Another couple, Emma and Rachel come and join them all about halfway through. Emma is a cardiologist, and Rachel is a biomedical engineer, and they're in the process of adopting. They also learn that this entire week is the "Annual Autumn Festival", and there's a different event hosted by a different family each night, ending with a huge block party on Saturday night. Apparently, the school in town gives the kids a whole week off for some "district convention" with the higher ups, so they've been doing this for years.

And honestly, despite everything, Dean's actually having a good time. Yeah, these people's careers are insane, but Dean thinks they're pretty normal, and he's genuinely enjoying talking to them. And they seem to have warmed up to them, so with a slight nod from Cas, Dean goes in for the kill.

"So, we have to ask. We saw some crazy stuff in the news about this neighborhood, of course, it was after we bought the place. But we couldn't find much info about it" Dean begins gently to ease them into the conversation.

"Oh you must be talking about Carol and Mike" Rachel supplies with a frown, and a silence settles over the group.

"We're sorry, we didn't mean to pry. We were just curious sin-"Cas begins to apologize

"No, it's okay. You've got a right to know since it is about your house and all. Not your fault someone paid to keep it out of the news" Ton sighs heavily, and Stephen comfortingly presses his kiss to his temple.

"Carol and Mike were our best friends before they we-before everything" Stephen chokes out.

"We're so sorry for your loss" Dean offers, Cas nodding along.

"The night it happened, we were actually all supposed to go out to dinner. The four of us and the kids, it's a monthy tradition. But when we walked across the street to meet them, Carol answered. We should have known something was off bu-"

"Hello! I'm seeing frowns which is never a sign of a good party!" A shrill voice calls, which earns a groan from the group.

Damnit. They were so close.

Suddenly there's a shorter woman with platinum blonde hair, and a man with enough goop in his hair to grease a pan, who've both clearly had some work done.

"Hi I'm Amanda, and this is my husband Bill. You two must be our new neighbors" Amanda smiles with her too-white teeth, extending a hand with perfectly manicured nails. Of course, they are.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes, but with a squeeze on his side from Cas, he's reaching out his hand to shake theirs'.

"Bill, a pleasure to meet you! Nice to see you've already found your people. I know how you guys like to group up" Bill laughs with an equally blinding, white smile.

A pit drops in Dean's stomach. "Your people", who does this guy think he is? And these aren't Dean's people he's stra-

Give it a rest Winchester, you can only lie to yourself about so many things at once.

Fine so maybe they are "Dean's people", but this homophobic assclown has no right to say it, especially not like that.

"Well, not as much as your people lik-"Dean starts, only to be cut off by a pinch to his side and he whips his head towards Cas.

"Just let it go, he isn't worth it" Cas softly whispers in his ear, while he gently pulls him closer. With a huff, Dean begrudgingly lets it go.

He turns back to the conversation to see Bill and Amanda completely ignoring them, as they ramble on about nonsense. Dean quickly locks eyes with each couple, they throw him an eye roll, or a face when Amanda and Bill aren't looking.

"Oh Amanda and Bill, looks like you found the new neighbors" Molly calls slightly strained as she and Jason practically run back over.

"Yes, but sadly we don't have much time to chat with them tonight. There are still some people we must say hello to" Amanda informs, and honestly, Dean could cheer from relief.

"But you two must stop by sometime this week so we can get you properly acquainted with the neighborhood. Maybe widen the variety of your social groups" Bill snarks and Dean opens his mouth to retort but is silenced by a sharp tug from Cas.

"Thank you for the offer, bu-" Cas answers cooly before Dean even thinks about reopening his mouth.

"Perfect! Stop by Tuesday around two, we'll have lunch! But like I said we must be going, try to have a pleasant evening. Oh and Molly, that chicken looked a bit dry, might want to check on that" Amanda proclaims, and then she and Bill are disappearing into the crowd.

Dean turns to glare at Cas, who only gives him a look that reads "we'll talk about it later".

"I'm so sorry you got trapped by them. God, they're the fucking worst" Molly groans in apology

"Yeah can't argue with that" Dean grits out, still fuming from Bill's words and Amanda's stupid smirk.

"And Bill's such a homophobic bastard, thinks he's so subtle. God, what I'd give to shove a-" Emma rants, only to be cut off by a gentle shove from her wife.

"We can try to get you out of the lunch with them, we can sa-"Jason offers, but Cas of all people shuts him down.

"It's okay, if we go once and make them hate us, maybe they'll never bother us again. Oh and I'm sorry, but we really better get going. It's almost Jack's bedtime. Thank you for everything" Cas explains with a smile, shooting a look at Dean.

"Yeah, this was a killer party. So great to meet you guys, hope we see you all soon!" Dean says plastering on a smile despite his bubbling anger.

And with quick goodbyes, Cas' arm unsnakes itself from around Dean's waist. But before he can mourn the loss, he feels his hand in his dragging him silently towards the kids' section. They scoop up an exhausted, but ecstatic Jack, and carefully avoid running into Maria, as they make their way through the gate.

Now that they're alone, walking down the cold, dark sidewalk, Dean can hold it in anymore.

"God we were so damn close then, Barbie and Ken had to show up and shut the whole thing down! And now you want us to have lunch with them?" Dean rages, pointedly ignoring the way Cas' hand that isn't holding a sleeping Jack, squeezes his own. And of course, the fact that they're still holding hands.

"I know they were dicks, but I noticed them circling us for at least ten minutes, and they only rushed over as soon as we started asking about the murders. Isn't that suspicious?" Cas questions.

"Yeah I guess, but wh-"

"So I think they might be the thing we're hunting. I only agreed to lunch so we could check them out, and scope out their house" Cas continues, amusement dancing in his voice

Of course. God, it's so obvious how could Dean miss it? This whole thing is really fucking with his head.

"Alright, no need to be smug about it. But I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me tear that assclown a new one" Dean grumbles, anger quickly returning as they climb their porch steps.

Cas sighs dropping his hand, turning to look at Dean fully. Dean's heart starts up, as Cas levels him with an intense, unreadable stare.

"Because he's just some rich, homophobic asshole, who believes he's better than everyone. But he's not, because he isn't even worth your energy or thought. He doesn't know anything about us" Cas speaks, softly, as he rests a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean suddenly realizes they're standing almost nose to nose.

"And I certainly don't care what he thinks of me or you, and I certainly don't care what he thinks of us. Because all that matters is how we think about ourselves." Cas continues purposefully, and Dean's throat constricts at the words. Dean of course knows Cas is "indifferent to sexual orientation", but he doesn't know that he-wait is Cas-

"And besides, if he's the monster. We'll get to kill him, slowly" Cas says in a mock-serious tone, which startles a laugh from Dean's throat. He's so close he can feel Cas's breath on his face, and Cas can probably hear Dean's heart racing.

But thankfully the logical part of Dean's brain is still somewhat running because it reminds him that it's all for the act. "He doesn't know anything about us", Cas was talking about the act. These people don't know they're pretending.

Because none of this is rea-

And it happens so fast that Dean almost misses it, again. But now he's watching Cas' retreating form walk through the doorway, and up the stairs. Leaving Dean, standing alone in the cold night air, his hand moving to his cheek without consent.

Cas kissed him on the cheek, again.

But this time. Nobody was around. They were completely alone, nobody to put on an act for.

That swirling feeling his back and wreaking havoc on his stomach again, while that lightning thing courses through his veins, and his mind races a mile a minute.

Dean lets out a breath, aggressively running his hands through his hair, as he stares out onto the empty street.

Because what the fuck is happening.

tag list:

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sidespart · 3 years

Note

For the fake fic title, if you're still doing it: Why do you hate me? (I honestly don't know where I came up with this lol)

X-Men AU!!! Found Family + Anxceit friendship. TW: child soldiers, child endangerment, abuse etc

(So typical X-men universe set up: some people are born with the X gene, which typically triggers during puberty, giving that person a mutation which normally results in cool powers. Many people hate mutants for their differences (/ bad press of people using their mutant powers for the evilz) and so most mutants live in hiding. The Xavier Institute is a school set up by an extremely powerful mutant which seeks to provide a safe space for young mutants to learn to manage their powers, get a regular education and hopes to see peace between humanity and mutant kind. The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants is a group of mutants who believe humans will never let mutant live in peace and do various anti-human, pro-mutant vaguely terrorist-y actions (there’s like a billion version of the x-men and these details may not be correct for all the versions all of the time because comics but this is the vague idea))

ANYWAY PLOT - Containment breach at the Super Secret Child Soldier Lab (SSCSL) - Subject VII has escaped. Subject VII is only 6-7 years old but his mutations were artificially triggered much younger than is normal. He can warp reality and create very sophisticated illusions, but has very limited control over his powers.

Cut too - Virgil and Dee, a couple of teenage mutants living on the street. They find a little boy with a buzzcut wandering around The Bad Part Of Town and Virgil immediately decides they need to adopt/help him (Dee makes more of a fuss about how this is not their responsibility and the kids barely even talking and do you know how hard I work just to keep you and now you wanna add another mouth to feed?? Huhh?? but obviously does not actually say no) (Dee is like. Barely any older than Virgil he’s just dramatic).

Naturally, just as the three of them have had time to bond, the SSCSL and other assorted bad guys show up to try and take VII back. There’s a big fight, Virgil and Dee have a lot more experience with flight and would probably have ended up dead if the X-men (Patton and Logan) hadn't shown up to save them.

But they lose VII.

Patton and Logan take them back to the Xavier institute to recuperate and offer to let them stay. They can go to school there, get some training and help the X-men track down VII and the whole SSCSL. Virgil says yes, Dee says no.

(So, reasoning - Virgil's mutation developed when he was 12. It was not pleasant. Various students at his school were injured and the media set up a which hunt for the mutant that caused the chaos. Virgil ran away from home because he was worried about the backlash on his family and about hurting anyone else again. So to him, this school full of mutants who can help him control his power, can offer him stability and a return to normal structures and routines, who are promising to help him get in contact with his parents if and when he’s ready?? This is like every fantasy he’s ever had come true

Unlike the other characters, Dee’s primary mutation is physical. He was born with it, its very obvious and its resulted in him being rejected for most of his life. He bounced around increasingly disturbing foster homes before running away when he was very young, so most of his memories are of living on the streets and surviving on his own. So, to him, number one: all adults are inherently untrustworthy idiots and number two: stay at a school? where they expect him to have a curfew? and, what - write essays? follow all their random arbitrary rules? rely on them for food and heat and all that shit? Completely ludicrous.)

It doesn't occur to either of them that the other one isn't going to agree with them. The resulting argument is epic and cruel, both hurling accusations at the other (Ungrateful /controlling are two of the big ones..) and both basically feeling hateful and 100% betrayed. Dee leaves and although they look for him, he’s got a lifetime experience of hiding and they cant find him.

CUT TO - 5 years later. Virgil is a (semi) well adjusted 19 year old junior X-men. He’s still a bit withdrawn, but is very close with Patton and Logan. He’s still holding out hope of finding VII one day and still firmly pretending he’s not listing out for any possible news of Dee (there were rumours some years ago of him joining the brother hood of evil mutants but then it all went quiet) who he, of course, hates for his betrayal.

BUT THEN - mysterious knocking at the door in the night. Dee, now wearing a hat and cape and calling himself Janus, has returned. And he’s brought with him a little boy with a buzzcut and a tattoo of XXII on his foot.

Janus and Virgil need to put aside their resentment and work together to help XXII, who really does not seem interested in helping them, and hopefully use any clues he can give them about the SSCSL to track down VII. But that's difficult when they’re both still struggling with their own trauma and have no idea how to reconnect - both of them want to ask why do you hate me but are a bit too scared of the answer. ...

This already got way to long so mutant power/ extra back story descriptions under cut!

Patton - 22/27 years old. An extremely powerful telepath/empath. It takes him serious concentration and focus to not hear peoples thoughts and its almost impossible to not feel their feelings. Some people dislike him because of this as they feel he's spying on them. Grew up in the Xavier institute and 100% believes in and is committed to the future where humans and mutants live in harmony. Has pretty limited life experience in the real world. Sometimes floats. (inspired by professor X)

Logan - 21/26 years old. Fires destructive laser beams from his eyes. Was in a car accident when he was younger leaving him with permanent but apparently harmless brain damage - until his mutation developed and he slowly realised that no matter how much he trained he just couldn't control his power. Has to wear specialised eye guards at all times to keep himself from accidentally destroying everything around him. Had big plans to go to university and was angry at his mutation for a long time for getting in the way of that. Eventually enrolled online and is now a very dedicated teacher at the Institute. (inspired by cyclops)

Janus - 15(?) / 20(?) His primary mutation is lizard/snake like scales over most of his body, but especially the left side. Has oversized fangs, and yellow eye and a short lizard tail. His secondary mutation makes him immune to almost any sort of mental based mutation (so Logan could still knock him on his ass with his lasers, but Patton cant sense anything form him and Virgil cant whammy him). Spent a lot of his life on his own and got by being sneaky, cunning and charming. Initially took Virgil in because he saw that his powers could be useful for keeping them both safe, but eventually Virgil became his first real friend.

Virgil - 14/19. Shadow manipulation and ‘draining’. Virgil can make himself (and with practice, people he touches) literally disappear into the shadows. He can also direct shadows as powerful energy ‘blasts’, but in order to do so he has to drain any surrounding living things of their energy. When his mutation first developed he took out half of the school hall where his exam was being held, leaving 15 students in a coma. (inspired by rouge/shadow cat)

VII - 6? / 11? Reality warping/illusion powers. One of the institutes first successful subjects. He was able to escape by changing the wall of his cell into a door. He finds it hard to talk but can project his ideas as lifelike illusions who can talk for him. One of his best is the image a handsome grown up Prince and he will often use this Illusion as an avatar to communicate. When he was 6 he did have some hazy memories of outside the SSCSL and expressed a desire to go home. Current status is unknown.

XXI - 7. Illusion powers (reality warping has been removed from the program by his time as subjects proved too difficult to control). Has no memories of outside the institute and is extremely uncooperative with his new captors/guardians. He does not understand the affection they’re trying to show him and lashes out a lot, often by creating a lot of extremely disturbing and graphic illusions. Bites.

#sanders sides #anxceit #virgil sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #fake fic meme #remus sanders #sidespart writes #x men au #giving it its own tag because ive been thinking about this one for a while and might do some more with it.#Anonymous

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

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

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition.

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down.

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold.

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms.

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness.

“You sure? You dont really sound it?”

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?”

“Not… not right now. Please?”

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand.

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle.

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom.

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with.

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together.

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side.

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line.

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie”

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’.

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible.

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom.

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person.

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

#tom holland #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagines #harry holland

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shesawriter39049 · 3 years

Text

|Breakdown’s & Bugatti’s| M|

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (Ft a hint of Tae & Jin)

About- Namjoon just does what he has to do to keep you ....calm while at a charity gala!

OR:

CHAPTER 1 : MEET THE KIMS OF NEW YORK

**WARNINGS: **Semi public sex, Fingering (F receiving), Minimal prep, Light dirty talk, Light spit play, Choking, Spanking, Gags (Makeshift), Non protective sex (Creampie), light overstimulation

WC: 7K (This is a sneak peak so it’s 1.2k)

NON SEXUAL WARNINGS: (Fictional political background) Hints at recreational drug use (Molly) Brief mentions of death, father issues, and panic attacks/anxiety (All of these topics are super minor but again, out of respect I’m mentioning them)

The remaining “characters” will be introduced at a later date

This chapter hints at various future plots

This is almost 2 years old, I reworked it recently

If you’ve been following me for a while this is the original draft for “Club First Royale”

FINAL NOTE: I haven’t been active in damn hear a year ( 8 months) So I am posting sneak peeks intentionally! No, not to torture you guys lol but to get my blog flowing again because I’m sure people aren’t really checking in anymore

OT7 ALTERNATING STORYLINES

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

FINALLY, fuck 36737 years later you spot your Kim!

Standing there in all his glory, in a Valentino slim fit navy blue suit, the jacket appearing to have some sort of paisley print, opting against a tie. Leaving his crisp white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, teasing at his broad carnalized chest as he makes his way from the bar. Heading over to the table, which has an empty seat waiting right beside him with your name written all over it...literally!

Purposely dodging the old lady to your left in a coat that would have PETA ready to throw hands! Gaudy diamonds, terrible Botox, and smelled as if she showered in an entire bottle Chanel No. 5!

Yeah, no, sorry, not in the mood for another meet and greet right now!

“Joonie” Squeals from your lips once you’re in close enough proximity, his dark piercing eyes cut over to meet yours. A playful smirk tugging on those sinfully thick lips of his, accompanied by those disrespectful ass dimples!

“There she is!” Eyes dripping with warmth, as he ushered you in with open arms ,and in these types of situations, Namjoon felt like home, he was your safe space. “You look fuckin good” The words hushed into your hair in a tenor meant for your ears and your ears only! A hint of something a little more than just friendly playing on his tongue.

A small little “Thank you” leaves your lips, and if I didn't know any better I’d think the compliment made you a little flustered.

Namjoon was the definition of Ocean arm’s and goddamn if you didn't just love how big this man was! It literally felt like he was hiding you from the entire universe when he has you nuzzled into his frame! The whole interaction couldn't have lasted longer than 20 seconds in all actuality but god you needed it!

Face flush to his chest, wrapping your arms firm around his waist, letting your eyes flutter shut briefly, a deep slow exhale flooded through your body. Inhaling the musky yet sweet scent of his cologne mixed with his natural aroma, which has grown to become a calming mechanism over the years.

“You had me worried for a minute…” Placing a quick kiss in your hair, that you would have missed if you blinked but again, your in public soo...

Palms soothing up and down your back gently, as he breathed into your hair , pulling back a little so there was some form of personal space between the two of you.

“Your late, even for you princess...I know you started early, I got your live(Instagram) notification, so what happened?” Head clocked to the side as he appraises you and fuck, the bass in his voice still has you all types of fucked up! Glancing over your shoulder briefly before leaning up to place a kiss on the hinge of his jaw, that tittered the line of passing as an “innocent” greeting.

“I’m fine Jonnie it’s nothing, we just got held up in glam.., Ariel was flying in from Miami...we got a late start” Gaze intentionally diverted as you welcomed yourself to his glass of Scotch instead. Damn near inhaling the entire drink as we speak and you hated dark liquor so that alone let him know something was up!

Merely resisting the urge to smooth out the crease he felt forming between his brows, a dry snort left his lips, rolling his eyes in response to your blatant stubbornness. Nevertheless, always the gentleman, reaching down to pull out your chair so you could take a seat next to him. Mirroring your actions just moments prior, quickly scoping out his surroundings before he brought those plush pillows he calls lips a centimeter away from your ear.

Fuck.

“Right, so I'm just going to assume you don’t wanna talk about it right now! Or wait I’m sorry, have you just upgraded to insulting my intelligence straight to my damn face?”

Brow quirked inquisitively, and you could literally feel every word, tone taking on a hint of seriousness the more he talked. Namjoon licked his lips and the tip skimmed the edge of your ear and I - .

“For one you smell like an entire bottle of Heidsieck, I can almost taste the nicotine on your tongue and you've been crying I know you. ”

Pulling back just enough to glare down at you above the brim of his glasses, which he always wore low along his bridge. Eyes daring you to look him in the face a lie again, teasing his fingers through his chocolate locks. Styled in the perfect semi grown out undercut, the top a little on the long side, while the sides tapered into a crisp fade. Sideburns outlining that extremely understated jawline of his! Though you had to admit the yellow gold diamonds dawning his ears were kinda stealing the show right now!

“So again, do you just not wanna talk about it right now? Or have you forgotten that I have an IQ of 137, and can smell bullshit from here all the way to Gangnam!?”

You're having very vivid day daydreams of your hand wrapped around this man's windpipe and for once it’s not even remotely sexual!

Blatantly ignoring the strong twitch within Namjoon’s jaw and simply saying “I’m here, aren’t I!?” Face stoic, tone flat as all hell, in case it wasn’t clear that this conversation was more than over, you opted to eye his bourbon glazed salmon until he got the hint.

“Oh, for fucks sake! ” Hissed from his lips without a lick of heat behind them, because as quiet as it’s kept ,your lowkey Joon’s baby, which is why he cares to begin with! Picking up a piece on his fork before essentially shoving it into your hand ”Your lucky I can’t have your ass getting sick on me tonight, we still have like, 3 hours left of this bullshit.”

More like he just can’t tell you no, but hey, whatever helps him sleep at night! Sliding his plate in your direction, completely giving up on eating at this point, he knew you needed it more anyway! Finally, starting to feel your mix of poisons hit your system so you knew you needed to even it out with a little substance. I mean yeah, you could have just ordered your own plate but meh, this was easier!

Namjoon started busying himself on his phone while you ate, scrolling through a couple contacts until he landed on a contact labeled under “Kookie”.

“Even though you were only late because “Your glam team ran late” There were air bunnies involved, and again you just really wanna choke his ass! “What are you thinking tonight? He’s actually on his way here right now, but he already has a couple options on him...”

The question was vague and for damn good reason...considering…

However you knew exactly what he was referring too.., and thank god!

Speaking over a mouth full of salmon, sounding utterly exasperated! “Honestly, any fucking thing at this point…”

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, sucking on a Bourbon soaked Ice cube “He’ll be here in 20, I just went with Smartees…always a safe bet...”

Smartees, candy, Vitamin -E, Molly... Estcasy...it’s all one and the same, just depends on who you ask!

He leans back in, apparently keen on whispering tonight. “Maybe, if your a good girl and eat enough we can split one before we leave...chill you out a little bit. '' Voice thick and heady, lips curling into a grin with a hint of something wicked playing on the ends, as his fingers idly ghost over your forearm. Giving it a light squeeze and regardless of how innocent the skin-ship may seem to the naked eye, you’re well aware of all the underlying innuendos behind it!

You make a noise of agreement, trying your damnedest to ignore the slight chill coursing up your spine at the pet name. Though before you could even dwell, Namjoon was sliding back in with another update, this one however wasn't as...arousing…to say the least!

“Fox 2’s been waiting for you to get here by the way...since the event was put together by council and all. They've been wanting to talk to us together about the fundraiser, just the same shit as last year.”

Waving his hand dismissively idly twirling the various pieces of Bvlgari around his fingers, seemingly un-phased while you on the other hand...release the most exasperated huff! Reclining against your seat, eyes rolling to the back of your head in 30 different directions! Yeah, It comes with the territory, you know this, hints Namjoons reaction, or lack thereof! But fuck you just really weren’t in the mood to do press tonight, It’s literally physically exhausting to pretend that you weren’t just PISSED!

“Of -fuckin- course they do!” Stabbing your mashed potatoes in a way that's... somewhat concerning…

“Baby.” It was a warning, though his voice sat barley above a whisper, his tone was crystal! Eyes cutting in your direction briefly before dropping back down to his phone….

You didn't have it in you to argue, there’s no way around this anyway, fuck it! “What -the-fuck-ever!” Sliding the half empty plate aside “Well, you wanna just get it out of the way now? Because I’m really not in the mood for-”

“Y/n..oh my god! Hi, honey how are you!? You look beautiful as always…” Suddenly there was a human, a human wearing the wrong shade of foundation kissing your cheek. A human by the name of Caroline, one of the local news anchors...clearly her damn ears were ringing.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys, that’s all she wrote, well kinda, actually she finished it like 16 months ago lol but that’s all she wrote for now I guess....

**_

_****Love you...see ya soon!!**

***SIDE NOTE, MY FRIEND MADE THE TWITTER EDIT SO DON’T ASK LOL IDK ****

UPDATE: HEADCANONS FOR THE KIM BOYS/OC

HEADCANONS

#Namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon au #kim namjoon #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon x reader #bts #bts smut #bts au #bts x reader #kim namjoon x you #kpop #kpop smut #kpop au

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: v

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 6 ||

word count: ~4k

coming to terms now, are we?

warnings: descriptions of medical settings, discussion of surgery and injury but nothing graphic, god fluff, nasty big fluff

——

wow. halfway through y’all. thank you to each and every ONE of you who have given this story a chance. enjoy some fluff and get ready for next week 👀 once again, beta-ed by the wuv @keiqos !!

||||||||||||||||||

Exhaustion had long since clawed a hole in your skull.

It was one of the many forms of malefactum that came from your fucking quirk, damn it to hell. The days following any sort of intense overstimulation episode of yours were always hellish. Constant fatigue, burning migraines, dry eyes, and confusion always waited for you by the time you rolled out whatever pushed you over the edge.

The villain attack was probably the worst episode you’d had, ever.

The entire trip to the hospital had been sort of a nightmare. There were so many people that needed treatment after the attack, so many of them worse off than yourself. You were lucky enough to get into a dark hospital room fairly quickly, allowing some of your symptoms to dull.

You were just coherent and aware enough to deal with everyone you needed to, paperwork and legalities of your visit sorted. You even managed to send a few texts to your parents and work groupchat to confirm that you were safe.

After a myriad of late-night tests and exams, it was confirmed that the next morning, you’d have a procedure to mend your leg.

...

Fixing the internal damage to your leg caused by the tearing of the glass was a fairly quick affair, according to your kind-smiled surgeon.

“I know it seemed abrupt, to do it so quickly,” The surgeon stuffed her hands in the pocket of her scrubs. “But, we’ve flown in extra medical personnel to help deal with injuries from the attack and well, you’re an easy fix.”

You smiled, the best you could, groggy with the anesthetic, “I’m glad it isn’t too bad.”

“Nope! Not at all,” She laughed, far too pleasant for all the chaos just outside your dimly lit hospital room. “We’ll keep you here tonight, and you should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon. You’ll need to keep weight off of that leg for about three weeks. We’ll have a follow-up appointment then, and make sure you’re healing alright. Sound good?”

You nodded, some tension releasing from your chest.

The procedure left you with a heavy plastic boot, clasped up to your knee. Not to mention your body ached with fatigue.

Most of the rest of that day was spent spinning in and out of sleep, only waking for basic checks and a delivery of flowers you received from the teashop’s owners complete with a passive-aggressive reminder that ‘this had nothing to do with us, you can’t sue <3.’

Your constant company was Hawks’s scarlet feather. As you moved through the bends of your quirk and post-surgical recovery, you held onto it like a lifeline. With each stroke of the soft filaments, your heart rate monitor would beep slower and slower towards a relaxed rhythm.

It made you think of him, and how he felt with your quirk activated.

Despite how shitty the circumstances were, really feeling Keigo with your quirk was heavenly. Feeling him in general, physically was a fucking blessing. You spent a lot of time that night and first day at the hospital fantasizing about how the beat of his heart felt like amber drops on your tongue and orange-bound warmth in your chest.

You wanted more of it.

Keigo stayed around to help deal with the mess, for once in his career. It was weird for him to spend the following day after the attack helping out on the scene. It was even weirder for the other Pros around that were aware of his reputation of simply not doing that.

It was out of character for him.

But, then again, Keigo hadn’t ever spent as much time at someplace he enjoyed like the teashop. Hell, the whole street. He’d patrolled plenty of areas for long stretches of time, but he’d never grown attached.

You were, obviously, a big part of that.

Seeing you hurt left him frazzled and fucked, and staying behind to help pick up the mess and provide aid made him feel a hell of a lot better. Sure, it was different, having local Pros look to him for guidance when he had to purely rely on his training from the Commission as opposed to his professional experience. He did well, he knew, especially based on the way the scene calmed even when he simply flew around.

Keigo had the power to bring people ease, even if he struggled with it himself.

The idea made him think back to you, undoubtedly still in pain, but more than likely entirely fine. He ignored the urge to text you anxiously as he was still parsing over the very sweet interaction the two of you had, even if it was in such a bad circumstance.

Your sweetness at the end was his constant reminder that you would be okay.

The implication and Keigo’s knowledge post- ‘the miel incident,’ as he was calling it, was obvious, and god, he wanted to fucking drown in it. The thought of having you so close that he could hear your heartbeat and feel the drum of your voice against your chest made him weak.

He was so fucking weak for you.

It was distracting, as it always was. It seemed fairly unavoidable especially as anxiety chewed at him. The one thing that lulled him was the far off feeling of the feather he had tucked in your hand. It had to be close to you still, the beat of your heart sending him shudders if he focused on it hard enough.

It became too much, thinking of you.

As his feathers swept piles of rubble, he pulled out his phone, the sun beginning to sink in the evening sky.

You had spent most of your recovery time in and out of consciousness, enjoying the time to rest and sleep.

A short buzz from your phone forced you into a half-wakeful state. You reached to the table next to the hospital bed, grappling for your phone.

[birdboy]: hey r u alive,

[birdboy]: how r u feeling

[birdboy]: speak 2 me

You cracked a sleepy smile.

[you]: alive, tired, surgery-ied.

You took a quick snap of your booted, propped up foot.

[you]: getting discharged tomorrow babyyyy

[birdboy]: oh fuck what happened?

[birdboy]: u sure ur good

The feather against your collarbone twitched, filaments waving. You thought little of it.

[you]: i tore some shit in my leg

[you]: and yes, just tired as fuck and want to be home

[you]: hospitals SUCK

[birdboy]: true, true

[birdboy]: would u...

[birdboy]: like a visit perhaps?

[you]: u sure??

[you]: i know ur busy and i dont wanna use up ur freetime

There was a pause in Keigo’s nearly instant responses.

[birdboy]: dove.

Your breath stuttered in your chest. That was newer; you only remembered it vaguely from the . It felt far more intimate than just ‘angel,’ and it made you shiver as you read it.

[birdboy]: busy schedule??

[birdboy]: i’ll make the time angel

[birdboy]: i’d love to come visit u

You couldn’t help the smitten expression that burst across your face.

[you]: and i’d love to see you

You wished you could’ve continued the conversation, but your night nurse knocked to offer you pain medication and sedatives and you couldn’t say no to more rest. Your mind and body needed it.

As quickly as it was administered, you were out again.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

You were exhausted. Still.

When you heard voices just outside of your door, you couldn’t help cracking open your dry eyes. It seemed far too early for them to collect your vitals. The room was still dark, large windows only showing a trace of the dawn’s light stretching from the east.

Your sleep-addled mind stretched to listen:

“Thank you so much for the autograph! My son is such a huge fan of yours.”

“Oh, really! Tell him I say hi! I really adore my fans.”

Giggling.

“Is she a fan?”

“Sort of, more of a friend of mine.”

He... said it again.

A shaft of light sprayed into the room, your quirk firing at the sudden intrusion. You groan, pawing at your eye with your fist, the feather held between your fingers blocking some of the light.

Even with your diminished vision and tired mind, you still caught it when he laughed at your reaction, stepping into the room.

Honey, softness, cream and heat that made your chest thrum like embers.

“H-Hawks?” Your voice was still itchy with sleep.

“That’s me.” His laugh rolled over you as your quirk receded, palms thrumming with the silkenness of his voice, “It’s good to see you, dove.”

“S’nice to see you too,” Your chest thrummed with his words and you couldn’t restrain the smile that spread across your face, “‘Ya know, you woke me up, just now.”

Hawks gave you a little chuckle, moseying his way to a chair nearby the bed and window, “Sorry about that. I had to sneak in here before official visiting hours so I didn’t cause a ‘scene’.”

You snorted.

“You, causing a scene?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him, “Hawks? Never. Not once.”

He stifled a laugh, dragging the thinly-padded chair closer to the bed and leaning back into it, “Glad to see you’re in good spirits, considering you’re still here and all.”

“From what I can tell, it could be a lot worse, especially compared to other people that were there,” The end of your sentence turned sullen, your expression darkening.

Hawks let out a little sigh, “It wasn’t pretty, that’s for sure. But, you’re safe, and most folks are safe. Bright side.”

“Bright side.” You repeated, softer, looking up from the plain sheets to meet his gaze.

You took him in, quickly.

He looked a bit worse for wear, the exhaustion from the days before still visible on his features. The dark circles under his eyes almost looked worse, perhaps uncovered and deeper since the attack. His wings weren’t even visible from your angle, plucked too short and sparse to be of much use.

But, Hawks was, undoubtedly, still stunning.

It was almost distracting, how unavoidable mentally eating him up was. You’d felt what he was like during the attack and that had apparently broken some mental dam for you. Holding back just how much you liked him seemed futile, at least mentally.

You would let yourself be honest, at least with yourself, as a treat.

What probably also pushed you over the edge was the fact that he wasn’t in his hero uniform, for once. You’d only ever seen him in his tan and black get up before. Seeing him casually dressed was shocking and very hot.

Hawks wore a simple black long sleeve with a long, wool jacket over it, black jeans, nothing seemingly extravagant except for the nicer looking chunky sneakers he wore and the fat gold watch on his wrist. It was all designer, knowing his paycheck. Without all of his normal regalia, you could better see that his pierced ears carried some light yellow stones that played off his eyes.

His feathery golden waves were messy, falling over his forehead and temples. The curves and angles of his jaw looked accented by the rising dawn light that was just beginning to filter into the room. There was the smallest quirk in his plump lips, but it hardly detracted from how stunning he was.

He was remarkably gorgeous, naturally, and you let yourself think about it freely.

Keigo felt a bit bad, seeing you in your state.

He tried to be subtle, looking you up and down, heart-thumping his chest as the feather in your hand-picked up your own pulse. It had sped up when he entered the room, even more so when you started to beam at him despite your state.

You looked like a bit of a mess, and with anyone else, Keigo might’ve indulged himself in being a little bit of sarcastic shit about it, but he didn’t with you. It didn’t seem right.

Your booted foot was propped up, a hospital gown askew over your collarbones under some thin blankets you were nested underneath. Your dark circles could’ve been worse, but your eyes were shining and alert, all directed on him it made him ache all over in the best way.

The feather twitched in your hand, your gaze darting to it. Heat spread across your cheeks.

“Oh, uh, shit,” You stretched your arm to pass the feather back to him. “Here’s this back. Sorry, I’ve kinda been holding on to it... a lot.”

“It’s alright, that’s why I gave it to you,” Hawks assured you, the feather whisking from your hand on its own and back to the downy stubs that Hawks had left. “Just a little reminder that good ol’ Number Two is looking out for you.”

You hardly needed a reminder. Thoughts of Hawks had been filling your head since it had stopped from swirling from your quirk. The thought of him leaving a bit of him with you only warmed your insides.

“How could I ever forget?” You leaned back into your pillows, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Thank you, Hawks.”

Hawks blinked at you, reaching down to rustle something down by his feet, “For?”

“You know, saving my ass.”

“That’s my job, angel.”

“Still. You thank me every time I make you your drinks, right?” You shrugged at his wide-eyed expression. “Same principle. Except, your life isn’t on the line when I make you lattes.”

“Oh, angel,” Hawks drawled and deflected. “That is a false statement. I rely on those. They’re my lifeblood.”

A little realization dawned on you.

You gave him a sad little smile, rubbing your own knuckles for some semblance of comfort, “It’s gonna be a while until I can provide anything life-giving, then.”

The teashop was destroyed and who knew how long I’d be until they reopened. Not to mention that your leg was post opt and you couldn’t exactly work on it.

Practicality aside, what saddened you most was that Hawks didn’t have much of a reason to see you without the shop.

As much as you had feared it at the beginning of your friendship, you had gotten comfortable with Hawks’s presence in the shop and in your life.

Too comfortable, and now it was biting you in the ass.

Thorns stabbed in your chest.

Keigo noticed your slow-falling expression and frowned, “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s nothing, just, uh...” You shook your head, blinking up at him,

Your voice cut off as your gaze refused to settle on him, Keigo clearly seeing your discomfort.

“Without the teashop, you know...” Then, with that honesty that scared him, you finally met his eyes, gripping the sheets of your hospital bed, “I’m gonna miss seeing you.”

The principle made Keigo’s mind swirl.

You missing him.

His thoughts slipped back to ‘the miel incident’, and your mutual feelings that you very obviously didn’t fucking know about. If you did, he was sure you’d know that he would be missing you a lot without your normal interactions.

This certainly wasn’t the setting to tell you, you were still stuck with an IV and probably somewhat traumatized by the event, even if you seemed in good spirits.

But, he could help assuage your fears. Subtly. Let himself use his honed arts to comfort rather than connive.

“Dove, it’s alright,” He gave the softest smile he could, shreds of real vulnerability in it coaxed out by you without you even being aware of it. “Just because the teashop isn’t around right now doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you.”

The stunned expression on your face would’ve been cute if it didn’t make Keigo’s heart stutter painfully in his chest.

“You... You do?” Your voice was so soft, you surprised yourself.

Hawks was a busy, busy man. Why the fuck would he bother with you? There was no cute coffee shop aesthetic in your foreseeable future. Maybe some decent drinks, but you wouldn’t be very mobile. You had some supplies and gear to make teas and some drinks at your apartment, but nothing as expansive as was destroyed at the shop. If it was flirty banter keeping him near, there were certainly other people he could go to for some natural chemistry, right?

He doesn’t need you.

Why the fuck would he bother with you, outside of what you could offer him?

“Dove,” Hawks’s voice shook you from your thoughts. “I’m here right now, aren’t I?”

“Uh,” You stuttered, mind catching up to the very obvious conclusion that, yes, Hawks does like having you around. “I guess, yeah.”

He frowned, leaning back in his chair as one of his smaller feathers whisked to your forehead, patting it a few times, “(Y/N), I like spending time with you. I care about you.”

Oh.

That was a little more vulnerability and truth than either of you expected.

Your eyes darted up to meet his, seeing a hint of unbearable fear before it was wiped away.

You didn’t know it, but it was just you that pushed that fear off Keigo’s face.

He forced his shaking hands to be still, mouth drying after saying words that he wasn’t sure he was ready to say yet. God, they were true, but were they okay? For him, or you?

And then you gave him the gooiest, biggest smile you’d ever graced him with, “I care about you too, Hawks. Thank you.”

It made both of your guts turn to mush.

In a stunned moment of silence, both of your breaths stuck in each of your throats. Neither of you could tear your gazes away from each other.

You both tightened your grip on your respective fabrics, your heart rate monitor beeping faster as you swallowed.

Hawks opened his mouth, inhaling, but he was quickly interrupted by a knock on the door. A head poked in, the same nurse as before.

“Hey, sweetheart, we need to take your vitals quick,” She came in, waving to Hawks gleefully.

Hawks’s softened eyes were gone, you realized. Torn away from the moment and now speaking comfortably with the nurse as she checked what she needed to.

Your hands shook.

Keigo noticed it, too, his own trembling as well.

The idle chat between Hawks and the nurse fell on your ears, though you didn’t process any of it. You were far too busy mentally coming to terms with the fact that Hawks cared about you. And, based on his tone and that familiar (but usually hidden) adoration in his eyes, it was a bit deeper than you expected and knew how to swallow.

You took a slow breath as the nurse left, Hawks waving with a wide smile plastered on his face.

When the door shut once more, there was a lull of silence that settled over the room. More early morning sunlight was beginning to slant into the room, throwing gold over the otherwise drab and lifeless greys and whites of the room.

The intense mood had been thoroughly interrupted by the nurse, but perhaps it was a hidden blessing.

Both of you were terrified, but so deeply yearning. You both were a bit too raw.

Maybe it would be better to let the fear fade, just a bit more.

“Oh, shit, I nearly forgot,” Hawks reached down next to him, pulling out a bag you hadn’t realized he had brought him. He set it on the edge of the bed. “I got you something.”

“Hawks.” You groaned, shaking your head and running your hands down your face. “You need to stop being so nice.”

“Can’t do that, (Y/N). I’ll be as nice as I want,” You could see that his grin was shit-eating through the space between your fingers. “Besides, you haven’t even looked at it yet.”

You took the bag into your lap, noticing the ruffles of tissue paper that puffed from the top.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” You told him, albeit still pulling the paper from the top to reveal a small, wrapped, fluffy object.

Hawks hummed, leaning forward to set his elbows on his knees, “You’re right. I didn’t have to. But, I wanted to.”

As carefully as you could, somewhat suspicious, you peeled back to the paper.

Your eyes widened.

It was a plushie, round and soft with a filling that made it feel like a marshmallow in your arms. The design was familiar, a character from one of your favorite cartoons, but you’d never talked about it with Hawks.

“I figured you could use a little pick me up after all this,” Hawks tilted his head and winked. “Did I get the character right?”

Your mouth fell open, blinking, “How did you... know? That I liked this one?”

“The little pins on your apron,” Hawks tapped his chest. “I figured you must be pretty fond of this one, since you had a couple of buttons for them, right?”

You wanted to give you a coherent, thankful statement to Hawks. Really, you did. Instead, you stared down at the doughy, round-eyed plushie. Maybe a few overwhelmed tears gathered in your eyes, which you promptly sucked down and shook your head.

“Thank you, really,” You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But, fuck, Hawks—”

For a moment, Keigo thought you were upset with him. Based on the slight contorting of your face, and the wetness in your eyes, his heart seized up. His fingers twitched from where they cupped his chin, wanting to shoot out and comfort you somehow.

However, Keigo stayed put as you turned back towards him, plushie carefully gathered in your arms and hugged snugly and perfectly to your chest.

“You gotta stop being so fucking nice,” You sighed, pressing your face into the soft fabric of the gift. Your words were muffled, but Keigo heard each one perfectly. “I’m gonna start getting ideas, you know.”

Sure, Keigo could’ve pushed some of your buttons and fluffed himself up for some fun, flirty banter that would be undoubtedly lovely, but it wasn’t the time. You’d had a very long and tiring few days, and Keigo could see and imagine that you were in all sorts of disrepair.

Keigo stood slowly, moving just next to your bed where you turned your head upwards to look at him. Carefully, he placed a worn hand on your shoulder, feeling the small bit of bare skin exposed by the thin gown.

“Don’t worry about that right now, dove, okay?” Keigo let his voice go soft, quiet, and gentle as he could make it. Without thinking, he squeezed your shoulder, rubbing his thumb just under your collarbone.

It was too much, maybe. But neither of you would complain.

Keigo could see and feel the way you relaxed, eyes going half-lidded and leaning into his touch, even putting the slightest amount of your weight into it.

It was probably the most precious and sweet gesture he’d ever experienced.

He made it his goal to make more like it.

(Anything to see you so instantly mushy.)

“I saw a coffee machine when I was coming in,” Hawks voice was a hum, hand on your shoulder not moving. You didn’t want it to. The heat pressing against your skin made you melt. “Want me to grab us some? I know I need it.”

You managed to giggle, craning your neck to fully look up at Hawks. You swore you could see the slightest quiver in his bottom lip.

“I’d love some.”

“You sure you can stomach shitty coffee?” The thumb rubbed over your collarbone, Keigo’s pretty eyes searching your face, portraying far more than your words. “That’s my territory, angel.”

“I guess I’ll stoop to your taste,” You gave him a smirk like sweet lightning and tentatively, carefully, reached your hand up to wrap around his own, squeezing. “I take my coffee black.”

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taglist: @thepandapopo @sinclairsamess

#lavender latte #salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x y/n #hawks fluff #hawks fanfiction #this is a transition chapter shhh y'all are getting spoiled the next few chapters #enjoy a lil preview of the sweetness :'^)#hawks mha #takami keigo

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sirisuorionblack · 3 years

Note

Hello 👋 I was wondering if you could write about Remus Lupin bitting one of Harry’s friends, and they’re relatively alright with it but lovely Remus hates himself for it- a bit of angst but with happy ending?

Family

Remus Lupin x Sirius Black

Summary - The marauders are back at Hogwarts at the age of 34 for yet another adventurous night after years but this time it didn't end rather well but Remus had his family.

A/N Okie so this was a wonderful idea and I just had to write it and I might have tweaked my request status a bit. But, anyway, a few things before you start, everybody is alive, no voldy, no nothing. And since you didn’t specify which one of Harry’s friends, I naturally went for Ron to add in the drama. Also, this happens in their third year and Remus and Sirius are well, married, sorry if it isn't a pairing you are comfortable with. And this may be a bit rushed, idk but I loved it tbh.

Remus ran his fingers over the scars on his knuckles. Remus was gifted with such a beautiful life, his friends and family so close to him, leading a life filled with love and happiness, the sound of innocent laughter always echoing in his ears no matter what.

Over the years, he and his best friends had grown from adventurous teens to adventurous adults, still spending every full moon like a tightly-knit pack, running into the woods and barking in their animal forms. They had never grown out of it and Remus was more than grateful for it. It was truly a wonder, regardless of how much they had grown, married and having kids of their own, never spared a thought if any other was in need of help.

Thirty-four. It was bewildering how he managed to pass twenty-seven years tuning into a full-on beast with insane thoughts and no memory of his human self, only noticing the stag, dog and the rat that managed to keep him accompanied no matter what. He pitied the wolf at times, he would never have the chance to know what love is, never understand how people care about others and would protect their loved ones.

Remus knew what love is, Sirius taught him that like his life depended on it. Remus shivered every time he thought about this. They were no longer the playful and traumatized teens, they were adults with responsibilities now and it was terrifying. But Remus found comfort in the very aspect of it, teaching and just as his friends insisted he did become the Defence Against Dark Arts professor and he more than just loved it.

And now after years, they were back in the shrieking shack for the next full moon, this time, honestly dreading it. Remus suspected that Harry and his friends were rather curious about their shenanigans in the shrieking shack. Harry, of course, knew that Remus was a werewolf he had known it ever since he was realised, his father, Moony, Padfoot and Wormtail would go missing for hours and then his mother would be with Uncle Moony, treating all the new scars that Harry was told is a sign of bravery from a young age by his godfather.

For some odd reason, Dumbledore had requested that Harry must not know was that it was his very own Uncle Moony spending his night away in the shrieking shack for which Sirius had reasoned was solely for the drama it ensued.

“Moony, stop fretting,” James said, patting him on the shoulder and pulling him away from the window sill he was standing before, “It is Harry we are talking about, I think he would be rather cautious,”

“That’s the stupidest things you have ever told in your whole life, Prongs,” Sirius commented, smirking and looking out of the window, to see when the full moon rises.

“Hey!” James glared at him, “I mean, yes, he could be a curious little shit but he is…good,”

“This is not about if he is good or not, James,” Remus snapped. He took a deep breath and sat on a chair that had been placed near the wall, away from the three of them.

“Right, sorry,” James said, looking at him apologetically and remained silent giving Remus an opportunity to continue, “Just like you said, he is a curious child and his friends almost give him a run for his money and there is so little chance to no chance that they would not be coming here to “find out“ what’s going on! And like what if I accidentally hurt someone!?”

Remus shuddered as he said those words. Contrasting how he was speaking moments ago, he looked up to see Peter, James and Sirius looking at him and he fixed his eyes to Sirius’ and he whispered, “They could die or even worse become a monster like me,”

“Moony, enough,” Sirius said, calmly, drawing the attention to himself rather than Remus, “The full moon will be in minutes, there is nothing we can do,”

“Remus,” Peter sighed, emerging from the corner he stood in, “First of all - you are not a monster. Second of all - we are here, nothing wrong is gonna happen,”

”What if something does?” Remus argued. He didn’t have to see to know that Sirius closed his eyes to calm himself down.

“Sirius, do you hear yourself!?” Remus stood up abruptly, “Your words drip with irresponsibility!”

“It’s not irresponsibility, Moony,” he said, motioning Peter to take over as he walked towards Remus, “it’s the reality. What do you think we should do, then?”

For once, Remus Lupin was out of ideas. He didn’t know what to say but he knew Sirius was right, there was almost nothing they could do other than control the wolf and every full moon they deal with would be a unique tale of itself, never certain of what could happen. It was woven with time.

“It’s time,” Peter said, grimly. Remus took a shuddering breath and fell into Sirius’ arms, who was still in his human form, unlike the stag and rat, watching their moves carefully.

Remus was right. In the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory, Harry Potter laid wide awake, staring at the ceiling, the noises in the shrieking shack and the tales about it resonating in his mind. He was confused about what might be there and curious to find out when nobody would tell him the truth although they seemed to know. And today, they would unveil it.

James was rather happy that the full moon would end in a couple of minutes but he was not allowed to stay that way when he saw the wolf stop dead in tracks, sniffing the air. They all behaved rather weirdly, sometimes hilarious, in these forms but this time, it seemed different, like the wolf had encountered something out of order.

The stag and the dog stood cautiously, ready to pounce any moment while the rat, discreetly moved in the direction of the wolf’s sight and to a bush. They could hear whispers and murmurs as the animals and humans stood still on both sides, afraid of what might show and for the first time they all saw the wolf stand so extremely still.

And then slowly, a mess of unruly, jet black hair emerged from behind the bush. The wolf took deep, rapid, breaths that almost sounded like growling, bared its fangs.

The black hair further raised until they could see the bright green eyes, behind the round glasses and the wolf noticing the presence of the human, pounced.

The dog was rather quick to act and jumped on the wolf, redirecting its path but a stag and a dog wasn’t enough for the wolf to be distracted from its meal. Hunger in the pit of the wolf’s stomach derived its senses insane.

Harry stood up to his full height, wide eyes watching the wolf push a familiar black dog away from itself and leapt forward, fangs sinking into the flesh before it blacked out, falling to the ground.

He is going to get an earful from his father.

“Careful, Mr Lupin,” Madam Pomfrey rushed to him as Remus tried to sit up and take a look around. She gently pushed him back to a sleeping position on the hospital bed. Through half-lidded eyes, he frantically murmured Sirius’ name over and over again.

“Hey, hey, calm down, love,” Sirius was at his side, holding his scarred hand. Remus held onto it tightly and asked, “What happened?”

He could see Sirius hesitating to tell him and the vague memories remaining in his head from the night was not doing him any better.

“Sirus, please tell me what happened!?” He asked, anxiety rising in the bit of his stomach, the nasty churning feeling retuning. Sirius gently pushed the strands of hair from his forehead and leaned up, pressing his lips to Remus’ forehead.

“Th-the kids-” Sirius started just for him to be interrupted as Remus sat up, abruptly. He didn’t have time to sort out his chaotically, messy feelings and the one thing in his mind was what happened to the kids.

“Moony, Moony,” Sirius hurried to calm him down that, if anything, just made Remus panic even more in his hazy state of mind. Sirius placed his hands against Remus’ shoulder, pushing him gently to sit on the edge of the bed when he tried to stand up.

“Nobody is hurt, Remus,” he said, crouching a bit to look at Remus in the eyes but sighed with a pang in his chest when he saw Remus’ eyes unfocused and roaming above his head, at the various hospital beds.

Remus gasped and his heart sunk to the bottom when he saw the bed surrounded by kids and adults. It was Ron Weasley. His teeth had sunk into the boy’s shoulder blades where he could clearly see the bandages wrapped tightly around. He couldn’t imagine the pain the poor boy would have felt.

Remus Lupin felt like a terrible monster.

Why him? Why is it always him!? Just when he thought everything would be alright when he began to let himself wallow in the joy of being back at Hogwarts. And because of him the boy, merely thirteen, would have to become a monster every month.

“You are awake,” James, who seemed to have been outside the hospital wing, rushed to him, "Oh, thank gods-”

”I told you this would happen,” Remus whispered, hoarsely, staring at the foot of the empty bed before him. His mind was racing with unwanted thoughts. He felt mad at himself, at his friends, at the kids but was immediately engulfed in a pang of even bigger guilt.

A dry sob involuntarily escaped from his lips. He couldn’t understand how Greyback did that to the kids when here he was dying with guilt. He didn’t dare think of that one terrible evening when he was just seven.

Remus struggled to take a deep breath. “Moony, look at me, please,” Sirius said and these words in Remus’ head felt like a command. He slowly raised his head to look into those mesmerising grey eyes, sparkling like they always did in the sunlight. Those grey eyes were the only ones that had the ability to calm him down in seconds yet he found it difficult at the moment to regain his normal breathing pace.

“Hey, it's alright. I am here. We all are right here,” Sirius pushed the strands of hair out of his face as Remus tugged at his own shirt, as though it would help him breathe properly.

Sirius looked at James who immediately moved to the nearest window, pushing it open. The gush of fresh, cold breeze for some reason warmed his shattered heart. Remus, although still shaking, managed to take deep breaths.

“Listen to me, alright?” Sirius said, cautiously and slowly, “Nothing is wrong, everybody is doing good - I said you to just listen, Lupin. Ron did get a few injuries but, thankfully, since it was time for you to transform back, the bite was equivalent to that of a domestic dog or something,”

Remus didn't have the ability to comprehend what he was saying and just gawked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

Sirius smiled gently, looking at Remus’ wide, confused eyes. “Ron will not transform every month. You didn’t “ruin“ his life, which I am sure at this point you have confirmed. And Madam Pomfrey had down all the necessities so he would be alright in a couple of days,”

“Oh,” Remus breathed, chuckling lightly but happily. Ron was alright. He was alright! He wouldn't turn into a monster every month, he wouldn't have all those hideous scars, he wouldn't be weak every other day, he wouldn't seem to look way older than he actually was. He would be able to lead a peaceful childhood.

James sat next to him while Peter sat on the bed before him, “Now you might be wondering why is Molly crying buckets when her son would be alright,”

“No, I’m not James,” Remus rolled his eyes, pushing James away and shaking his head with a light smile. He discreetly wiped the tears forming in the edge of his eyes.

“Uncle Moony!” Harry yelled, and ran to his uncle. Remus tried to stand up as his nephew rushed into his arms, the boy holding onto him so tightly. Remus slowly wrapped his arms around the boy and felt Sirius stand up behind him, providing support to his weak frame.

“But you should ‘cause I have prepared an answer for it. If you are not asking me why then Padfoot go ahead,” James said and watched with a smirk as Sirius cleared his throat, and asked, “Why?”

”Thank you very much for your certainly not forced question - it is because she is a mother!” James said going jazz hands just for him to be hit with three pillows.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Moony,” Harry whispered into his uncle’s chest, feeling guilty as ever. He heard the man sigh and the arms wrapped around him grew tighter. Remus took off Harry’s askew glasses and whispered, “It’s okay to me, Haz but your mum,”

Harry giggled, burying his face into Remus’ chest, “I love you, Uncle Moony,”

“I love you too, Haz” Remus ruffled the boy’s already messy hair.

"Wait!" Peter said, jumping up and stood beside Harry, smirking, "Can we, I dunno, take points from him?"

"No! that's stupid!" James complained, shaking his head, "Gryffindor needs to win the house cup. We can ground him or something but not take away points,"

"Yes! Can I ground him, please?" Sirius asked.

"No,, absolutely not," Remus said, holding the boy closer to him, "Nobody is gonna ground the poor boy. Leave him alone,"

"Gah! You're no fun, Moony," Peter said, shaking his head in disapproval.

James, after controlling his laughter said, “Also, Harry, your mum told me to yell at you as a favour for her and she would do her job when you come home for break,”

"Uncle W," Harry said, making Peter chuckle at the nickname the boy insisted in calling him saying it was too weird calling his uncle "Wormtail", "I will steal your cheese sticks,"

"No," Peter groaned, dramatically, "Cheese sticks, my weakness,"

“But you won’t yell at me, dad,” Harry said, pulling away from Remus and putting his glasses on.

“I will,” James said, seriously.

“It is not that you won’t, Prongs,” Sirius said, from behind Remus, “It is that you cant,”

“Oh shut up,” James said, rolling his eyes.

Remus couldn’t help but allow his eyes to skip towards Ron every often and harry, of course, noticed it. “Ron is alright, Uncle Moony. He was actually saying it doesn’t hurt much anymore and he was rather bewildered why his mother was crying too. Oh! he also says you guys were so cool yesterday,”

“We know, prongslet, we are the coolest people ever to exist,” Sirius flipped his hair, dramatically. Harry laughed.

Remus took a deep breath. He would never forgive himself for what had happened, but he had his family with him and they sure would make him forget it. These wonderful people were his family.

#remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #harry potter #ron weasley #hermione granger #remus lupin x sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #domestic wolfstar #wolfstar raising harry #jily #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction

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trashscenariihxh · 3 years

Text

Pariston x fem!reader x Wing part 9

Um so there is some very dubcon, bordering on noncon in this chapter. Avoid it if it’s not your thing! Basically in this installment, Pariston is a massive asshole.

Tendrils of fear crept up your back as you stared unbelievingly at Pariston’s car. You checked your phone. It was only eleven pm. Pariston never got home this early. Tugging your coat around yourself, you hurried inside, hoping that Pariston had just gone to sleep, rather than wait up for you.

No such luck. As soon as you were through the door, the sound of Pariston’s mellifluous voice reached your ears.

“My my, Dearest, what’s kept you out so late?”

Anxiety gnawed at your stomach. Pariston’s voice was smooth, innocent, yet you knew better. Pariston was never innocent.

“Darling,” he pressed, voice growing colder by the second, “I asked you a question.”

You looked at the floor as if searching for answers. What could you say?

“I was with a friend,” you said finally. Not a total lie. Perhaps Pariston would buy it.

Pariston’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “But Darling, you have no friends.”

His words stung, yet you knew them to be true. Ever since marrying Pariston, you’d slowly grown apart from all your friends. Texts and emails had dwindled to nothing, and you were left alone with Pariston. Only Pariston, forever and always.

Knowing that Pariston wouldn’t stand for your silence, you continued, carefully. “I ran into a friend the other day. We had dinner tonight.”

“Hm, that must have been a late dinner.” Pariston’s gaze darkened for a moment, and you worried that he would ask more questions. Luckily for you, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Very well. I suppose you deserve to see a friend every once in a while. After all, who knows when this one will move on and out of your life.” He smiled at you, sanguine and sickly sweet. You felt sick to your stomach.

“What’s brought you home so early?” you asked, knowing that Pariston had no intention of letting you just go to bed.

“You, my dear. I had hoped we’d have dinner together, but I suppose you had other plans. If I had known…” he paused, letting out a soft laugh and waving his hand dismissively. “No matter. Tomorrow, perhaps.”

You could only nod in response. When Pariston said nothing more, you spoke. “I should really go to bed,” you said, feigning a yawn. “Long day.”

“Yes, I suppose you should.” Pariston eyed you closely, and for a moment you swore that he could see right through you. “Goodnight, dearest.” You turned to leave, but Pariston’s voice stopped you. “Darling,” his voice dripped with ice as he walked over to you. Gently, he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to him. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? It would break my heart if I found out you were lying.”

All you could do was shake your head in tight, jerky movements as you gazed into his dark eyes.

“Good.” Pariston beamed down at you, his smile not reaching his eyes as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Now, get some sleep.”

You smiled meekly at him before heading up to your bedroom. You desperately needed a shower. Thinking that Pariston wouldn’t be home yet, you’d forgone a shower at Wing’s place. You sighed as you stripped out of your clothing, inspecting yourself in the mirror. Wing had been careful not to leave any marks on you, which you appreciated greatly. You doubted you could explain away bruises and bitemarks.

As you stepped into the shower, you allowed yourself to relax. You’d managed to evade Pariston’s probing questions for now. Hopefully, he would drop the subject. Hopefully. As you washed yourself, you couldn't help but think about Wing, his softness, his sweetness. You thought dreamily of when you’d be able to see him again.

Shit.

You remembered that you’d promised to meet him tomorrow or the day after, but Pariston seemed to be in one of his attentive moods. There would be no way to sneak out under his watchful gaze, not that you’d dare.

Clean, you turned off the shower and slipped into your bathrobe. Quickly, silently, you dried off, rubbed expensive lotions and serums on your face and body (just as Pariston liked) and headed to bed. Pariston was in bed already, ostensibly asleep, but when you got into bed next to him, he lazily slung an arm around your waist and pulled you close.

You recoiled at his touch, eager for him to remove his arm from your person. He didn’t move it, if anything, he tightened his grip around your waist. You sighed in defeat, resigning yourself to a night of poor sleep.

***

You slept fitfully, dreamlessly. The weight of Pariston’s arm around your waist kept you awake for most of the night; instead of comfort, it brought forth a litany of negative emotions, from shame to dread. Feeling his breath on the back of your neck made bile rise in your throat. Everything about him was so unpleasant, so loathsome, that you didn’t think you could bear for him to touch you any longer.

Your attempts to wriggle out of his grasp in the early morning halflight were met with Pariston grasping you closer and stirring. “____,” he murmured sleepily, drawing you into his chest, “whatever is the matter?”

You said nothing, pretending to be asleep, but there was no fooling Pariston. “Darling,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck, “I know you’re awake.”

He kissed you again, and to your horror, you felt the beginnings of an erection pressing against your ass.

“Pariston,” you protested weakly as his hand ran up your body to cup your breast, “please, I’m tired…”

“You're always tired,’ Pariston snapped before sitting up in bed and staring down at you with cold, hard eyes. Per usual, a false smile was plastered on his face. “Now, my dear,” he cooed, reaching out to run his hand along your thigh, “I want you to get undressed for me.”

Shivering, you complied. How could you not? Nobody ever said no to Pariston, not even his own wife. Especially not his wife.

“Good girl.” Pariston stood, shucking his pajamas before rejoining you on the bed. You moved to lie down on your back, but large, strong hands caught you about the waist and flipped you over onto your stomach. You exhaled sharply in shock; Pariston’s strength always came as a surprise to you. A tug at your hips forced you up onto your hands and knees. You squeezed your eyes shut as you positioned yourself, readying your body for what would come next. From behind you, you could hear the soft slapping of Pariston stroking himself to full hardness Without offering you any preparation, he positioned himself behind you, and pushed inside.

You groaned at the sudden stretch. Pariston gave you no chance to adjust before he began snapping his hips against you, burying his cock in your aching sex over and over. His grip on your hips was like iron; you were sure that he’d leave bruises. Without warning, Pariston tangled his hand in your hair and wrenched your head back. Your back bowed as you tried to pull your head forward to relieve the tension of it all, but Pariston held on tight. His thrusts had taken on a staccato rhythm, his hips pistoning against your ass with wild abandon. You felt sore, used. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine that you were literally anywhere else, with literally anyone else.

With Wing.

Pariston was taking you even more roughly now, his ragged breaths a sure sign that his release was closing in on him. His grip on your hair never loosened; if anything, he gripped you tighter, pulled your head back a little farther. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he came, his hips snapping forward against your ass and stilling as he filled you.

With a short gasp, Pariston pulled out, releasing his grip on you. You fell forward onto your forearms as soon as your hair was freed, your chest pressing against the soft bedsheets as you struggled to regain your composure. You felt so fucked out, so used. Pariston hadn’t even tried to bring you to orgasm; to him, it wasn’t even an afterthought.

Before Pariston could chide you, you got up and headed to the shower to clean up. As soon as the hot water hit your skin, you let out a choked sob. What had your life become? You tried your best to stifle your cries, but it was of no use; your tears fell freely. You vaguely wondered whether Pariston could hear you. You were sure he could, and even more sure that he enjoyed it.

***

When Pariston left for work, you didn’t text Wing. You couldn’t, after what had happened. How could you face him after what had happened? You thought it odd, in a way that while you had been married to Pariston for years, and only been with Wing twice, you felt as though fucking your own husband was a betrayal of sorts.

Mid-afternoon, your phone buzzed. Predictably, it was Wing, asking if he could see you again. Unable to face him, you ignored the message, and waited for your husband to come home.

#tw abuse #tw abusive relationships #tw dubcon #tw noncon

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kim-miri · 3 years

Text

HALF(have a little fun) pt. iv

→ one | two | three

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

» part four / ?

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

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

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

» word count: 3,118

☾iv.

Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |

Hair color: White

Eye Color: Purple

Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)

Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana

☾iv. part iv: the mafia(1/2)

The ambience within the car was calm, or at least a calm for the situation at hand.

Sayomi was curious about what kind of job she was being forced into, but at the same time, she wanted to maintain her composed facade by staying quiet.

She decided to start with a subtle question. “So… who exactly are you guys anyway?”

The man seated next to her answered without an ounce of hesitation, “The mafia.”

Well, shit. So much for a subtle question.

Sayomi was thrown off by the man’s response for the first time since they’d showed up.

The mafia… what would they want with a nobody from Meteor City?

Her parents had often spoken of the Mafia. They had a reputation of harboring no-name assassins who’d overrun the market with their skill and mass numbers.

No names… Mother once said that the most notorious criminals hailed from the dumps in Meteor City. Because… their records didn’t exist! They couldn’t be traced, but I wasn’t born there. Do they know that?

Sayomi was on edge now, having a vague idea of what they might be planning to do with her. “What, am I gonna be one of the Mafia’s little assassins now?”

The man smirked at her quick deduction abilities. “You’re a bright one I see, Sayomi Zoldyck.” His tone had roughed up at her last name.

He knows.

“Well, seeing that you know who I am. You should also be aware that my family would never let me work for another group, right?”

He moved in his seat, turning to face her slightly as he sensed a long conversation. “And that’s why they left you here? Because they care about you?”

She grimaced at the hard truth behind his words.

In an attempt to hide her deflating ego, she replied an icy tone, “Don’t make assumptions. You people know nothing about my family.”

The man let out a monotonous laugh. “Ms Zoldyck, I’m not trying to start a fight here. We didn’t take you to use against your family or anything of that sort. We simply came to recruit our next line of assassins... and what a coincidence! The family we were following called one day to say they had a proposal for us, and that’s where you came in. It was just the luck of our draw that you happened to stumble upon the exact family of who would’ve been our next assassin.”

Ayame.

The man continued, “So please, rest assured we will not attempt to harm you or notify your family of your whereabouts. That would only be bad for both of us, correct?”

Sayomi nodded in defeat. She hadn’t stopped to think about the possibilities of her captors being a group so far up the food chain.

It’s true I don’t exactly want to go back home anyway. Maybe I’ll stick around and see what happens.

Sayomi closed her eyes as she leaned up against the cool glass of the window. Her head was throbbing from the sudden onset of overwhelming information, and all she wanted now was to let herself drift off into sleep.

Noting the lack of words from the teen beside him, the man made quiet movements to revert back to his original position, opting to stare out the window as the remainder of the car ride went without another word.

Deep in her dreams, Sayomi felt an emotion she hadn’t experienced since she was abandoned.

Happiness.

☾ iv.

Inside Sayomi’s dreams.

Sayomi looked down at herself to see she was wearing the kimono she had on the day her mother left her. There’s no way it could still fit her now, having grown almost half a foot, but there she was.

Fine, black silk ran elegantly down her shoulders, arms, and body. The silver accents shone like moonlight reflecting off of her form, while a shocking violet color made up the wrap around her waist.

“Sayomi! Get your head out of the clouds! If I beat you this time I’m taking your new daggers!”

Her head whipped up at the familiar squeaky voice. “Illumi?” she mumbled.

At the sound of his name, the boy turned back towards her, mid-run. The wide smile on his face was replaced by a frown as he noticed Sayomi’s perplexed expression.

Sayomi said nothing, however, only running towards her twin as she reached out to envelop her ever 10 year old brother in a hug.

But upon contact with Illumi, he vanished into thin air, taking the familiar scene of the courtyard away with him.

In a split second, she was back in Meteor City.

Sayomi blinked twice before slumping down into the sickening piles of junk and filth, sobbing as the absence of her other half sparked her back into reality.

“Ms Zoldyck”, a man’s voice echoed through her dreams.

“Ms Zoldyck”, once again and she opened her eyes-

☾ iv.

Sayomi blinked several times, spotting the reflection of herself slumped against the car door in the window.

It was much brighter now, the sun having risen far overhead while she had been asleep.

She squinted at the scenery whizzing by outside the window, sighing in defeat when she failed to recognize her new surroundings.

“Good Morning Ms Zoldyck. We have about a half an hour left to our destination.”

Bidding a slurred ‘good morning’ to the voice in return as she stretched her limbs, a weight dropped in her chest as she remembered why she was here.

Making use of the time left before her arrival, Sayomi attempted to wake herself further as she mentally prepared for the events to come.

15 more minutes in, and the nature that made up the scenery outside began to clear as Yorknew City came into view.

Worries aside, Sayomi stared at the rapidly approaching city in awe. She had yet to have visited Yorknew City, as her parents had felt she wasn’t ready for the big jobs yet.

But now she faced the megacity at last. She couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of being in the bustling city of Yorknew on her own.

She was like a teenager who had snuck out to the mall while her parents were at work.

There was something so exhilarating about going against her parents’ words, even if it was unintentional. In the back of her mind, she felt crazy for cracking a smile in the situation she was in, but the 16 year old side of her ignored it as she let herself enjoy the moment.

Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.

☾ iv.

Arriving at their destination, the three black cars pulled up in front of a luxurious hotel.

Sayomi looked up at the building in awe, her breath fogging up the glass as she gaped at the forever extending floors of the hotel.

The driver of her designated car stepped out, followed by the man on her left.

Rounding about the back of the car, the man opened the door on Sayomi’s side, gesturing for her to exit the vehicle.

She quickly obliged, slinging her katana over her shoulder as the men from the other two cars accompanied her into the lobby.

Sayomi was once again awestruck by the interior of the hotel, everything around her seeming to scream ‘high-class’ and ‘wealthy’. It was a stark contrast to the rags she wore, having no other clothes besides the now tiny kimono she’d left back at Meteor City.

Although the mansion was without a doubt far larger and much pricier than the hotel in which she stood, Sayomi was mesmerized by the people, walking around or sitting in groups, their friendly bonds shining through the crowds.

Back at home, Sayomi’s only ‘friends’ had been Illumi and the butlers. She had yet to experience what it was like to have real friends, her parents seeing them only as a distraction to her job.

She was pulled away from her thoughts as one of the men nudged her to keep walking, the group making their way to the elevators.

Stopping in midway through the hall in wait of an elevator, the man who had been sitting next Sayomi in the car spoke up, “Welcome to your new temporary home, Ms Zoldyck.”

Home? I get to stay in this classy hotel?

The man broke through her thoughts once again, “As I told you before, as long as you behave and prove to be a valuable asset to us, we will treat you with the utmost respect.”

Sayomi made brief eye contact with the man, still wary of the offputting kindness they were showing her. Nevertheless, she nodded, not wanting to ruin the rare opportunity.

A loud ding signified the arrival of their elevator, and the same man accompanied Sayomi into the elevator, the rest of the members turning to head back out of the building.

Inside the elevator, the man held two buttons down at the same time, the top two floors: 49 and 50. Sayomi tilted her head, curious of the maneuver. “Why two floors?” she asked.

The man looked over his shoulder at her, raising his eyebrows at her question.

“It’s a secret floor. For the Mafia and our hired assassins. Just above the 50th floor.”

Sayomi’s mouth formed a round O, clearly impressed by the revelation of a secret floor. Just how influential are these people? They have their own floor and everything.

The two of them waited in silence for the remainder of the time, only moving when the elevator arrived at their floor.

Sayomi followed the man out into the hallway ahead, mindlessly reading the different room numbers as they passed her by. 5102… 5104… 5106… 5108-

“Alright Ms Zoldyck, this will be your room for the time being. Inside you’ll find a uniform along with any other supplies you’ll be needing while we’re here. I’ll come back in about half an hour to get you started on the job, so in the meantime please change into the uniform and get settled.” And with that, the man handed Sayomi a room key while explaining how the elevators were locked, meaning she couldn’t escape.

Accepting the room key, Sayomi hummed in agreement before entering her new room.

Room # 5110

Two steps into the room, her heart raced with excitement at the view in front of her.

The room itself wasn’t the impressive part, being a small square with a bed and bathroom. It was the view from the large window in front of her that made her exclaim in delight.

Having grown up on Kukuroo mountain with only the occasional trip to the outside world, the vast city and its bustling streets made Sayomi swoon, her heart restless for a chance to explore the beautiful city.

Noticing the uniform hanging in the closet as mentioned, Sayomi made quick work to change into the fresh set of clothes, ditching her rags.

It was a classic black suit with black dress shoes, matching the clothes of the men that had accompanied her here from Meteor City. The change in outfits restricted the usual placement of her band of needles, and she opted to tuck the band into her pocket instead.

A knock on her door interrupted the silence, as the man asked through the door if she was ready to begin the job.

She replied with a “yes”, moving to sling her katana over her shoulder as she exited the room.

☾ iv.

“When we don’t have specific targets for you, this will be your job.” the man started to say.

Sayomi stared at the walkie talkie now in her hands.

“You’ll be staged as a bodyguard for the VIPs that visit the hotel. It’s nothing hard, just a deal we keep with the management to keep our floor up here a secret” he continued.

She nodded in understanding. A bodyguard, huh. Maybe I’ll at least get some action this way.

“Ah, right. The walkie talkie I gave you will notify you of incoming VIP clients. All you have to do is accompany them with your assigned team to their room, where you’ll stand guard either inside or outside. 50 percent of the time the VIP will have a few assassins after them, but the other 50 percent stay and go with no problems.” He started walking back up the hall to the elevators.

Sayomi followed closely behind, asking a question once she stepped into the elevator. “For those 50 percent- the ones targeted by assassins, I mean. Is it fair game to kill their attackers?”

The man laughed out loud. “But of course, disposing of any attackers would only mean a safer client. Do as you wish as long as the VIP’s safety is ensured.”

The assassin blood that ran through Sayomi’s veins was bleeding through. It seemed her inevitable instinct to kill would always resurface, no matter how sympathetic or innocent she tried to become.

Back down at the hotel’s lobby once again, Sayomi now blended in with the numerous other bodyguards dressed in black suits.

Sayomi’s escort pointed towards the main entrance of the hotel. “Ms Zoldyck, you’ll be stationed with Team 3 over by the fountain right outside. Introduce yourself or don’t, just stand posted until your team is dispatched through the walkie talkies.”

Before she could even respond, the man took off walking back to the elevators, leaving Sayomi to find her way to her post.

Wow, alright then.

Sneering at the man’s abrupt exit, Sayomi tied back her hair, taking a second to compose herself before walking out to the fountain to join her team.

Finding the line of bodyguards quite literally stationed in front of the fountain, the man’s instructions echoed in her head as she decided on the latter, keeping from introducing herself.

The team now had 6 members with the addition of Sayomi, and the others took a moment to size up their new member.

Sayomi did likewise, glancing down the row of suit-clad bodyguards. There were 4 men and 1 other woman, all of them looking to be around their mid-20s.

Talk about a let down, they’re all at best D-ranked assassins.

Unimpressed at the lack of powerful auras amongst her new allies, Sayomi’s shoulders slumped as she turned to face the busy street with a lack of enthusiasm.

Figuring out a way to pass the time, Sayomi settled for analyzing the hundreds of people that walked by. She was curious about the so-called urban culture she had heard so much about from Ayame back in Meteor City.

Though Sayomi wasn’t completely detached from society, she had still spent a large portion of her life either trapped in the mansion or, recently, in Meteor City. This being, she was fascinated by the little things, such as the different types of clothing people in the city wore, or the billboards and neon signs that began to light up the streets as evening fell upon Yorknew City.

I wonder what I’d look like if I wore a dress like that… nah but it’s probably impossible to run in anyway.

Looking down at the modest outfit she wore and back to the woman passing by wearing a rather revealing dress, she pouted.

It must be nice to be able to enjoy the nightlife in a city like this. Maybe when i’m older-

The static sounds of her team’s walkie talkies cut through her thoughts, finally dispatching their assignment for the next few days.

“Team 3. VIP client Adachi Yuto is arriving in less than one minute. The vehicle is a black Maserati and the assigned room will be 4823. Current stay will be 3 days.”

In unison, Sayomi and the rest of the team straightened their postures, now on alert while they awaited the VIP’s arrival.

Right on time at about a minute later, a black Maserati pulled up to the curb in front of the team. A few of the members began walking towards the car, and the rest including Sayomi followed suit.

The driver opened the door to the backseat in front of them, and a man looking to be in his early 20s stepped out, thanking the driver.

Must be the VIP.

Her fellow bodyguards started to move almost automatically, forming a circle around the young man. Sayomi quickly found her spot in the formation, walking behind the VIPs right side as the group made their way into the hotel.

Her team seemed to be far experienced, as they walked straight to the elevators without another word or break in formation. It was a silent trip up to floor 48, the VIP remaining occupied on his phone for the entirety of the ride.

Once arriving at room 4823, one of the bodyguards finally spoke, addressing the VIP. “Mr. Yuto, would you like any of us to accompany you inside?”

The VIP politely declined, only looking up from his phone to briefly thank the team for their hard work.

With the VIP turning in for the night, the 3 day timer began for the team. They would take turns in pairs, staying posted outside the VIP’s room, the others going to get rest before switching in once again.

One of the men volunteered to take the first shift, along with the other woman in group, leaving the rest of them to rest until their shifts came around.

Sayomi was paired with one of the remaining men to take the next shift. He was a stocky, sturdy-looking man, most likely one of the older members of the group from the signs of age evident in his facial features.

Agreeing to come back around to the post 15 minutes prior to their shift, the two returned to their rooms on the 51st floor.

☾ iv.

Sayomi flopped down onto her bed upon returning to her room.

Man, this job is getting boring already.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she decided to get some rest while she could. She had about 4 hours until the shift change, her break being in the most inconvenient time frame.

Sayomi’s shift would be in the dead of night, from 1 am to 5 am.

Not bothering to move underneath the blankets or even untie her hair, Sayomi fell into a deep sleep with her legs dangling off the side of the bed. Her mind and body were both exhausted from the day’s past events, and all she wanted now was to move on from what’d already occurred.

Because the past isn’t important… right?

That’s what she chose to believe for now, but she also knew in the back of her mind that sooner or later the past would come back and find her.

☾ iv.

to be continued.

a/n: my taglist is open!

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