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inhonoredglory · 3 years

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Run Away from Me: A Levi Meta

The core of this meta is to show that, IMHO, Levi’s violence against Historia in Chapter 56 is his emotional fallout from the torture of Sannes, as well as his own guilt at the person he had become. Coming from having only watched the anime, I personally found this placement in the manga of the Historia scene right after both the torture sequence and the Reeves Company alliance as incredibly meaningful, especially for Levi’s character and his emotional journey.

Levi is an immensely compassionate person, someone who wants to aspire to the “unimaginably altruistic” life of Erwin Smith (Isayama, SNK Encyclopedia). So how would this torture he had to inflict affect him? Because imagine for a second: This is the man who was the only one to truly react with horror and sadness at the knowledge that they’d been killing human beings all this time when they fought Titans. This is the man who went out of his way to ally with the Reeves Company in order to answer the Trost townspeople’s woes:

In Chapter 53, Levi is confronted with blatantly disrespectful Trost merchants who think the Survey Corps haven’t done enough to save their town. It’s the everyday things that burden these people—taxes, thieves, putting food on the table. Levi doesn’t once shoot back at them for their criticism. Instead, he listens. And then he spots a woman at the side of a merchant’s stall. She’s holding a baby and her eyes burn into Levi’s. She holds his attention while above him, the merchants continue their tirade. I think Levi’s thinking of his mother here: like this woman, she was a single parent raising a child in a city that is not unlike Trost now, a town abandoned and forgotten by society, poor and struggling. That child reminds Levi of himself, and this time, Levi can do something about it.

This is why Levi goes out of his way to ally with the Reeves Company. Levi and Dimo share a long, deep conversation, demonstrating that Levi’s alliance with them is more personal than merely the company’s strategic value. Dimo Reeves called Levi an “awkward yet kind man.” He goes on the say that Levi will “protect us and the barely-alive District of Trost, even though he doesn’t really have to.” This is Levi answering that townsperson’s accusation that “you in the Survey Corps aren’t working hard enough.” Levi entrusts to the Reeves Company the responsibility to bring the town out of poverty in the new world the SC will create. That’s his compassion, that’s his care, that’s his humility. That��s how he values the lives of people, not just by defeating Titans, but valuing their livelihoods. “A man like that must have come from absolutely nothing,” concludes Dimo.

This is the same Levi we find torturing Sannes.

In Chapter 55, the torture of Sannes happens because of the horrors Hange saw inflicted on Minister Nick. It is Hange’s passion for avenging Nick that drives the torture sequence, their anger at the tortures that had happened under the MP’s First Squad that motivates the payback inflicted by Hange and Levi. Levi’s violence is done, not out of his own desire, but primarily Hange’s. This is not to say that Levi was guiltless or without responsibility for Sannes’s torture; on the contrary, his actions weigh heavily on him, as will be discussed. But it’s interesting to note that out of all the tortures they did, breaking Sannes’ nose was the only retribution all Levi’s own (in reaction to Sannes’ justification of a series of horrific things the MPs had committed).

I also find it relevant that after everything they had done to Sannes, Levi was still visibly shocked at Hange’s overreaction to Sannes’ hesitation to answer their first real question. Because in Levi’s mind, everything they had done up to that point wasn’t torture—in one sense. It was instead a like-for-like payback for the horrors Sannes had inflicted on Nick. Note that it was Levi who had to pull Hange out of the emotional distraction of Nick’s death in Chapter 52, the same emotional distraction that drives Hange to overzealous violence here.

There’s an interesting parallel in what happens next with what Levi had gone through with Annie earlier. Levi threatened Annie with torture of her real body and said he enjoyed intimidating her as she was bound and trapped. Sannes confessed that for him, he enjoyed violence and tormenting the helpless—so why should he complain if these torturers, Hange and Levi, are the same as him? It’s a subtle parallel, but it’s a relevant theme in SNK that everyone, on all sides, are devils and monsters. Or as Sannes says later, “The world will always have people like us.” People who are violent, people who are lunatics, people who condemn themselves and get their hands dirty for the sake of some higher “good.” Sannes’ accusation isn’t lost on Levi, because this is the same Levi who looked at a struggling mother in a forsaken city and did something about it.

Justified violence is still violence. So what if Annie deserved to have her limbs cut off, time and time again, without relief of death? So what if Sannes deserves to have his fingernails torn off, one by one, without even a question put to him? They had, after all, inflicted death and untold horrors on innocent people. But does justice look like this? Does the name of justice absolve your hands from actions this ugly?

Morality is complicated. And Levi is the first to tell you that he doesn’t know how to slice it. “I’m not telling you what’s right or wrong. I certainly don’t know what is” (Chapter 59).

So now in Chapter 56, we come to the scene with Historia, right on the heels of that torture. The first red flag for me went up when Levi realizes he has “forgotten” to tell his squad about Historia’s true bloodline. It’s not that he didn’t intend to tell them, it’s not that he was not supposed to tell them. (Unlike, say, the entire Female Titan arc.) He forgot, and he’s clearly embarrassed when they confront him. Why? Because he’s not supposed to lose focus like that. But he did, because that information came from Sannes, and after that horrendous experience, Levi, like Hange before him, was emotionally distracted. That’s the only reason I can figure for Isayama focusing on Levi’s oversight like this, and showing Levi in such an obviously emotionally awkward place.

Hange isn’t here to translate for Levi, like she did when Levi berated Eren for being unable to harden during the experiments in Chapter 53. Levi takes the scenic, colorful route when explaining his feelings. To Eren, he admitted that his criticism wasn’t about blaming Eren for being unable to harden, stating that “going over our shortcomings and bitching about our situation is an important ritual.”

In this light, we can read Levi’s words and actions with Historia as a complicated picture of his psychological landscape. Notice how just prior to this scene, we saw Hange act out the aftermath of the torture by kicking the table. Levi too reacts, taking it out on Historia.

Imagine where Levi is right now. He’s taken on the role of Sannes in this new world—the executioner, the ultimate killer, Humanity’s Strongest. “Your hands are already dirty. You can’t go back to the way you were,” Levi tells Armin later, but it’s also what he believes about himself. All that idealism that brought him into the Survey Corps—a life bigger than being a thug in the underworld. Did all that idealism bring him here, to do this? He has to make it worth it, he has to make it count for something. It’s what he does every day when his soldiers die under him—he’s been there to make their deaths worthwhile. But who’s there to make the deaths and terrors he’s dealt out worthwhile for him?

Levi’s expression in the last panel is angry, yes, but also wracked with pain.

So when Historia says she’s unfit for the role of Queen, when she says she can’t be Queen because she’s not good enough, Levi snaps. “Then run,” he said, grabbing her. “Run away from us as fast as you can. Because we’re going to do anything and everything to make you do what we want.” Levi’s eyes are downcast, not looking at her, because what he’s saying is more about him than it is about her.

Because he knows he’s dark enough to follow those orders to do the worst things to a human being to make the entire world a better place. He knows it’s in his bones to commit these atrocities. He is afraid of what he found he’s capable of. He’s already come to terms with killing humans as Titans. He’s come to terms with torturing humans as humans. He knows he can and will do horrible, unforgivable things. That’s his strength, that’s what makes him valuable, useful, important. He’s not like other people—“I’m abnormal… probably because I’ve seen far too many abnormal things.” But he’s ready to condemn himself, to make his hands dirty for the sake of others. He’s decided he has to go full through with the darkness he’s committed, because how else can he justify what he’s done? “I’m fine playing the role of the lunatic who kills people like that. I have to be ready to rearrange some faces. Because I choose the hell of humans killing each other over the hell of being eaten. At least that way… all of humanity doesn’t have to be damned.” His are the hands that will be stained with blood, his is the conscience that will be stained, his is the soul that will sink to hell—all so that others’ innocence can be spared.

The 104th look at him like he’s gone mad, abusing a young, helpless girl like that. But they haven’t seen what he had to do. They haven’t seen how bloody his hands have gotten. His violence here is a desperate reaction to get someone to save him. He’s always been able to avenge the deaths of his soldiers. But this time, he is the one in need of redemption. He could not justify his violence completely, he could only plea for her to make them unnecessary in the future. By becoming Queen, it means he won’t have to keep torturing, keep killing, keep shedding human blood. Her becoming Queen means a peaceful transition of power. Her becoming Queen means he won’t have to pave the path to a new government with more blood and more guilt, at least, not more than he has to. He’s enslaved to doing what his strength allows him to do. He’s begging her to not let people ask that of him.

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

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dating the armed detective agency’s medic

a/n: of course i have to write one for the ADA even though i’m a biased port mafia bitch. there’s a bit more characters here so i’ll try to keep each one short but still very fluffy and sweet <3

this man is always getting himself injured and even though agency has yosano, fukuzawa thought it would be a good idea to hire another medic who could deal with less life-threatening injuries

ofc dazai flirts with you the first chance he gets and every time he comes into your clinic

dazai: good morning my dear belladonna! the weather is beautiful today, but not as beautiful as you of course

you: YOUR ARM IS BROKEN PLEASE SIT DOWN

although as much as he likes to slightly mess with you, dazai genuinely enjoys coming to the clinic and being treated by someone like you

he likes observing your hands and how careful they are when they bandage his arm or that cute little scrunch of your brows when you’re bandaging his forehead

while on a mission, atsushi and kunikida go the extra length to protect dazai because they know you’re worried about him

and then one day dazai comes into your clinic again and instantly you think that something has happened

until he surprises you by bringing out a bouquet of flowers

‘if i get injured less on missions, would you let me take you out on a date?��

jokes on you though after you guys date dazai finds every excuse to visit you in the clinic

he’ll get papercuts on purpose just so he can get you to put a bandage on them

kunikida is annoyed because dazai they’re just papercuts jfc also please go back to work

seeing that you’re always concerned about his health and well-being, dazai finds himself making much less attempts cause he knows the stress it puts on you when you have to bandage him up after and make sure he’s alright

thanks to you our man is able to take care of himself a bit more

even though he is your boyfriend he’s still going to mess with you in any way he can

he’ll barge into your office claiming that his chest hurts because you didn’t give him a kiss that morning

also will highkey hug you from behind even if you’re treating another patient

the first time he meets you is for a physical exam check-up because it was required at the agency and he feels embarrassed at first seeing that the agency’s medic was gorgeous

atsushi was fresh out of the orphanage so of course he was quite malnourished and still had some injuries from his abuse

you had no idea who’d dare hurt such a sweet boy so you do your best to treat him and instructed atsushi to come in for some follow-up check-ups

although when he comes in for that check-up he talks about how he’s been healthy because he eats a lot of chazuke and you’re like ‘oh no, no, no, please eat other things too’

you end up packing him a bento box because he’s your patient so ofc you have to keep him healthy

the two of you run into each other a lot in the morning because atsushi tends to come in way earlier than he’s supposed to so you often find him sitting in front of the locked door

thus begins your early morning chats. atsushi’s always polite and never interrupts when you talk and you love how he shows so much interest in whatever you say

atsushi began to realize that he has feelings for you but boy is he bad at concealing them also ranpo kind of busted him in front of everyone in the agency including you

but atsushi was saved by you hinting that you wouldn’t mind going on a date with him at all and he’s ecstatic until he realizes he hasn’t been on a date before

he takes you out to a nice restaurant and insists on paying for everything

nothing much changes with your routine but atsushi likes to bring you breakfast in the morning and the two of you have little dates before going into the office

he knows how worried you get when he goes out on especially dangerous missions but he does everything he can to protect the city and the new home he found with the agency and you

this guy was one of the people, other than yosano and fukuzawa, who interviewed you for the job and you can’t forget how intense he was when it came to asking questions

of course, you answered all of them well but kunikida was very serious that you knew how dangerous it could be to be involved with the agency

there was a self-defense portion in the interview that you knew about and of course kunikida was the one who added that

to his pleasant surprise, you managed to dodge all his incoming attacks (kunikida lowkey found it hot, like that’s requirement number ten on his list checked right there)

kunikida does get injured a fair amount during missions and he doesn’t want to get dissected by yosano all the time so he goes to your clinic that’s right near the office

he likes how efficiently you work and how gentle your hands are that even when you’re stitching up his wound he almost can’t feel a thing

however, kunikida does have a bad habit of not resting for the appropriate number of days. like, even with a bullet wound he’ll still hobble over to his desk to finish his paperwork

once, he came down with a terrible case of the flu so of course you sent him home only for kunikida to sneak back into the office when he thought no one was looking

you ended up taking kunikida home but poor guy could barely do anything by himself so you took care of him too

kunikida is definitely the delirious babbling when he’s sick so he ends up talking about his list of traits for an ideal woman and how you filled out a good portion of it

when he wakes up (much more sane) he sees you reading that list on his notebook and he’s like WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING

he handed you the notebook personally before passing out and kunikida can’t live it down

you: well, even if i don’t match all these requirements, would you still be interested in going out?

kunikida: yes... please

everyone can tell that kunikida’s about to go on a date because of how nervous he is the entire day

he knows how tight your schedule can be and how busy he is with with work but he always makes time to have his lunchbreak with you

loves to hear about your day and even has some space in his notebook dedicated to any interesting stories you have

the first time you met him was when he also had his physical check-up which ranpo insisted he didn’t need but fukuzawa made him so he had no choice but to follow

the entire time ranpo’s just like ‘nothing’s wrong with me, see?’ and then you do a simple dental check-up and find that he has like two cavities he didn’t want to tell anyone about it because he’s scared of the dentist *cue ranpo trying to run away and you grabbing him by the poncho*

of course fukuzawa makes him go to the dentist too but ranpo insists that you have to be the one to take him and schedule the appointment and come along

truth be told, you’ve always been pretty attracted to ranpo because you know of his skill as a detective so you were excited to have this day with him

only for you to have to physically restrain ranpo to the dentist’s chair (you even had to call kenji to help) while his teeth was getting checked

ranpo was squeezing your hand the entire time and he was fairly grumpy after the whole ordeal that he wouldn’t even talk to you until he asked if you could get ice cream

you: the dentist just told you to eat less sweets

ranpo: but i neeeeed them

you: fine, how about frozen yogurt?

after the dentist trip, you know how much of a hard time ranpo has with eating less sweets so you decide to leave fruit on his desk as a healthier alternative but he won’t TOUCH IT

after some bribery on fukuzawa’s part (’i’ll acknowledge you if you eat fruit more and also tell atsushi to give you a piggyback ride every day’) he finally concedes

he actually finds himself liking fruit so in the afternoon he’ll swing by the office just in time for you to be slicing fruit

ranpo gets over the fact that you sent him to the dentist and enjoys his time in the clinic eating fruit with you and sleeping on the cots inside

your clinic is where he hides when he doesn’t want to do work and when he pouts and asks you to say that he’s sick you can’t help but go along with it

he’s also super physically affectionate around you. will literally have his body draped over yours sometimes while you work

people start talking about how you two look good there and one time someone asked if the two of you are dating and ranpo’s like ‘of course we are!’

and you’re surprised self is about to protest when ranpo smirks at you and says ‘why? am i wrong?’

lmao ofc he’s not you’ve been struggling to keep yourself from being a flustered mess around him

he’s still clingy around you but this time he comes into the clinic every few minutes to ask for a kiss

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @atsumu-brainrot @laure-chan @goodfoodxoxoxo @guardianangelswings @ah-kaashi @amberalisa

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gingersnaaps · 3 years

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making things right

you and iwaizumi just aren't meant to be, and if he has to fuck some sense into your little brain for you to understand, then so be it.

wc: 3k

tags/tw's(PLEASE PLEASE READ): noncon, self harm(a more accurate tag would be forced assisted self harm??), explicit n*fw, blood, emotional manipulation, emotional sadism, dumbification, degradation, fem!reader with inner genitals, has something resembling an actual plot

a/n: couldn't decide which way i wanted to take the plot so i just did both. read a version of this without the self-harm here

i don't want minors interacting with my content

Oikawa really doesn’t like how much time Iwaizumi has been spending around you lately.

It’s not that he’s jealous, of course - that kind of pettiness is far beneath him - it just doesn’t seem right. It’s not the natural order of things for someone as pretty as you, all soft skin and glowing smiles, to be practically draped around Iwaizumi all the fucking time.

He’s counted, you know, and today was the thirty-eighth time that you’ve visited their lunch table and somehow ended up on Iwaizumi’s lap.

And doesn’t he also have to think of his team? The Spring Interhigh’s coming up, and it wouldn’t do for one of the most important players on the team to be constantly distracted. He’s seen the way Iwaizumi looks at you: it’s adoration encapsulated in a gaze, the kind of tenderness and admiration that he’s only ever seen Iwaizumi direct at himself.

Oikawa’s going to have to fix this, isn’t he? He’s going to have to make everything the way it should be.

He finds that he enjoys the constant planning and brainstorming and especially the fantasizing far more than he’d anticipated.

Oikawa notes down which days you go home immediately after school, which days you stay, and the routes you take home. He writes down all your friends in a little notebook, familiarizes himself with the classes you take, and pays extra attention to your mood swings.

Of course, as he spends more and more time detailing every aspect of your life, it’s only natural for his thoughts to… wander. In class, he catches his own attention drifting away from Japanese literature to thoughts of what you’d look like strung out on his cock, eyes squeezing out tears as he stuffs you full and claims your pussy. He thinks about how slutty your skirt looks when you’re bending over, and about how much he’d like to rip it off of you. He likes to imagine how Iwaizumi would react, too - the way he’d cry and sob and finally understand that you don’t belong with someone like him.

He finds that these thoughts allow him to tolerate Iwaizumi’s presence near you a lot better, even though the two of you have only grown closer as of late. When you start getting particularly obnoxious with your flirting, he just has to picture you screaming in pain as he fucks you dry, or think about the bulge in your throat from his cock shoved deep inside your mouth. And when he sees Iwaizumi finally ask you out on a date to the ramen place nearby, he almost feels sorry for how short-lived, how temporary, your romance is going to be.

As the weeks go by and the Interhigh draws near, Oikawa thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of how to make it happen.

It starts off almost too easy.

Oikawa’s usually the one who stays late after practice, slamming his serves into the opposite end of the court until his vision goes dizzy and his arms turn numb. But Iwaizumi - bless his generosity - had planned on staying after to help a few of the first years out with their serves.

He waits at the school gates, scanning the entrance for any sign of you. You should be finishing up with your little club soon if the notes he’d been keeping were any indication, and sure enough, he spots your bright teal jacket scurrying towards the gates after just a few minutes.

Oikawa plasters on his friendliest smile, waving you towards him. “Hey,” he greets. “Iwa-chan told me to wait for you today. Do you want to come over? He’ll be along in just a minute - he’s just cleaning up the gym a bit.”

“Aren’t you the captain?” you tease. “So much for being responsible.”

He forces out a laugh.

Do you realize how insufferable you are? Because you’re really not doing yourself any favors with the way you’re acting. But he pushes down the surge of anger that threatens to spill over, because he knows you’ll change your tune as soon as you arrive at his place, and he can’t wait.

The walk home is filled with empty banter, useless conversation that flits back and forth on the most boring of topics. To be honest, Oikawa appreciates this - it gives him the mental room to think about much more interesting things, like the way your breasts are pushing against the jacket, or the slight sheen of your lip gloss. Or, alternatively, the way your breasts would look spilling out of his hands, and the way your shiny lips would look smeared with spit and cum.

He places a hand on your waist as he guides you inside his house, but you stiffen. “Isn’t Hajime supposed to have caught up to us by now?” you ask.

Hajime.

First name basis, huh?

It’s a small detail, but it’s the kind of change that has him seeing red at the periphery of his vision, the kind that makes him want to grab your throat and claw at the paper-thin skin until all he sees are lines of scarlet and your off white bones. He’s been friends with Iwaizumi for twelve years. Twelve years, and all he’s gotten from him is a nickname. You’ve known him for barely a fucking year, and here you are, sauntering away with his first name.

His hand on your waist tightens, gripping and squeezing at your lovely flesh until he can feel you wince in pain. “I’m afraid it might be a while,” he says, voice brittle.

“What do you mean?” you ask, turning around, your eyes widening.

Oikawa shoves you inside and slams the door. “I mean,” he hisses. “That your precious Hajime won’t be coming around anytime soon.”

Panic rises in your throat, but he slaps a hand over your mouth quicker than you can scream. All that escapes is a strangled cry, weak and thin, one that quickly dies out in the entrance hall of his house. It’s much too quiet to reach any neighbors, you realize with a sinking feeling. The last bit of faint hope you harbor in the back of your mind dies when you realize that there’s no concerned housewife coming to check on the commotion, no fumbling child who might stumble in on you and Oikawa. You’re alone. You’re fucked.

He’d made sure of it.

“Bitches like you are so stupid, aren’t you? Making me spell everything out for you.” His voice drips condescension as he yanks you by the hair towards the bedroom. There’s no reason to put up an act anymore, he thinks, so he can be as rough as he wants with his new toy - he just has to make sure he returns you in one piece to Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s sure he won’t mind if you’re a little beat up around the edges, a little used by the end of this.

As he throws you down on the bed, the thought gives him immense satisfaction. You’d been so eager to do things with Iwaizumi - he’d coaxed out embarrassed confessions from his friend over late-night calls - so he’s almost sure that you’re a needy slut during sex.

Of course, you’re not nearly so eager now.

Who would be in your situation? He holds your squirming body down on the bed with one hand, flicking open a sharp, sharp pocket knife with the other.

“You do realize that this is what you get, right? It’s your fault for being this fucking easy. Should’ve thought a bit harder about going home with me. Did your mommy and daddy never teach you to not trust men?” he says, face curling into a smile.

You’re unable to get a word out, mouth dry and cottony from the fear that pierces you. He watches your eyes flicker between the blade in his hand and his face, uncertain and wary, like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa can’t help the sick pleasure that bubbles up within him at the look on your face.

“Please,” you say hoarsely. “Please.”

“You have to use your words, you know. You could be begging me to stop, but I think you like this. I think you’re begging me to get on with it,” he says.

Maybe he’s taking it a step too far with the dramatics, but he can’t bring himself to tone it down - not when he’s right about to get to the good bit, and certainly not when he sees those pretty tears trickling down your face.

Oikawa reaches for your arm, grabbing at your wrist. He rubs his thumb in light, tender circles over your skin, like a form of twisted reassurance. It’s the kind of action that would seem almost loving to any outsider, but the malice in his eyes makes it clear what kind of situation this is.

You feel ice in your veins, your vision sluggish - almost dreamlike - as he brings the knife up to rest at your forearm.

“Hold still when I slice up your wrists,” he says. “Wouldn’t want to accidentally cut too deep, yeah?”

Oikawa begins to carve out thin lines of red, angry and harsh against your tender skin. His brow creases in a mockery of concern when you let out a pained cry, jerking away weakly from his cuts, but he only leans closer and presses wet, hot kisses into your neck as the edge of the blade digs at your forearm. A high-pitched whimper slips out from your lips.

“When you go back to class tomorrow,” he whispers. “I want you to wear something pretty for me. Something with short sleeves, like one of your sundresses. I want you to show off these beautiful lines so that everyone knows what a mentally ill whore you are.”

The pocket knife clatters as he throws it to the side, and he looks you up and down appraisingly. He’d always thought you were rather pretty, with your soft halo of hair and your glittering smile - but he can’t deny that there’s a special sort of charm in the way you fidget uncomfortably under his gaze, blood streaming down your wrists and making a mess on his sheets.

It makes him hungry.

As he spreads your thighs apart, all he can think about is how much he wants to claim you, to ruin you, because that’s what he imagines fucking you is like: ownership and victory spread on his tongue while your juices drench his cock. All the filthy dreams he’s had, every fantasy he’s gotten off to late at night, and the stifling heat spreading through his core is begging him to fuck you, to ravish your tight hole until the only name you know is his own.

He doesn’t really want to bother with prep. He’s sure that stretching you out on three - no, maybe four fingers until you scream would be fun, but you don’t deserve that kind of special treatment. Aren’t sluts like you supposed to be wet all the time anyway?

You can feel the outline of his dick dragging along your soft thighs, pressing close to your cunt, a breathy moan escaping his lips from the friction of his sweatpants grinding against your body. It’s not long before he pulls his cock out all the way and strokes it a few times. He grabs at your hips, maneuvering you like a rag doll, and fits the tip of his cock at your fluttering entrance. Nudging at your hole, he pushes in just the head of his cock - enough so you can feel the sting of his girth, but not nearly deep enough to offer any real relief.

You whine involuntarily, and a grin lights up his face. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” he asks, dragging a thumb against your lips. “Is it because Iwa-chan doesn’t fuck you well enough? Is his pathetic dick too small to fill up that hole of yours properly?” he leers. “I’ve seen his cock before… mine’s bigger, you know.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble. You’re dizzy from the blood loss, but anger still seeps into your veins at his crude words.

Maybe if your head was a bit clearer, you would’ve realized that only stupid girls talk back.

Oikawa’s hips snap into yours harshly, his cock tearing at your insides, and you let out a strangled gasp. You’re not prepared for how well his cock stretches you out - it’s curved in all the right places, ramming into your cervix, brushing up against your tender g-spot - and as he ruthlessly pounds your frail body into the mattress, your mind blanks, overloaded with sensation. You can’t remember who you are, or why you’re getting fucked. The only thing on your mind is the raw feeling of being cunt split wide open, of having your insides rearranged until you’re a drooling, dumb mess.

“Fuck who?” he asks, shoving two fingers inside your sloppy mouth,

“F- fuck…” you whisper. His fingers are gripping at your hips so tightly you can feel the skin beginning to bruise, and there’s just too much to handle. He’s everywhere; his fingers probe around your mouth, making you gag, and his cock drags along your tender walls until you’re left quivering around his length.

He leans down to kiss at your forehead, his lips brushing tenderly against your hair. “You can do it, baby,” he encourages, cooing at you. “You can say it.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper quietly, cheeks burning with shame.

“Good girl,” he says, voice sickly sweet. “I knew you could do it for me.”

Fucking you feels so much better once you’re compliant, he thinks. He slows down a bit, savoring the sensation of your cunt twitching uselessly while you writhe on the bed in pleasure. He feels a sharp jolt of arousal as he looks at the marks he’s left all over you, admiring how the bruises on your arm and waist begin to purple, how the lines cut into your forearms are still dripping scarlet.

You tug at his shirt, sniffling and crying. “Please,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re asking for anymore, not even sure whether you want Oikawa to stop or continue, but you can’t handle the way he’s slowly fucking you senseless.

He raises an eyebrow. “You want it faster?” he asks cruelly, bouncing you into his cock. There’s no response on your end, but Oikawa thinks he’ll take that as a yes. And if that’s what you want?

Well, that’s what you get.

The hum of pleasure in your core intensifies as he picks up speed again. This time, he angles his cock until it grinds down harshly on your sensitive spot, leaving your legs limp and body helpless as your cunt tightens like a vice. As you shudder from the orgasm that washes over you, he spills into your pussy until your hole is leaking white down your thighs.

You can feel him laughing softly as he pulls out and climbs to rest beside you, leaving you stuck in a pool of your own sweat and cum and blood. He wipes the remaining cum off of his cock, smearing it on your face, but you barely react. You feel so dirty, so tainted and violated, but you’re not sure you could move even if you tried - his cock has left you boneless and made sure that every square inch of your body is sore and aching.

“Well,” he says, breathless. “Better run home unless you want Iwa-chan to find you all used and cut up.”

Hajime? Your eyes widen, welling up with tears as he continues talking.

“I lied at first - he wasn’t going to come over after practice - but I did just send him a text. Told him I had some homework I really needed his help with,” he says, eyes glinting with triumph. “But you don’t want him to see you like this, do you? You look fucking pathetic right now. He’s always suspected you were a slut, and if he sees you now he’ll know that you’re a depressed slut too.”

You feel like screaming, because deep down, you know that Oikawa’s right. If Hajime comes over now, you know you’ll have to explain why you look like a used little sex doll, why you’re all cut up. You can already see the pain in Hajime’s eyes if you were to tell him that his best friend for the past twelve years had ruined you, fucked you so thouroughly that you could barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure.

You don’t want that, you realize miserably. You can’t have that.

Oikawa watches you fumble around for your clothing, entertained by the way you trip and stumble as your weak legs attempt to hold you upright. It makes for an awkward, ugly image - but he can’t deny the warm thrill of satisfaction that runs up his spine as you wipe the blood on your forearms away and slink out of his bedroom.

He’s finally making things right.

When you go to school the next day, wearing the sundress that clings to your skin and rides up your thighs and shows off your lovely arms - exactly as he’d ordered - the stares you’re met with aren’t sympathetic. They’re judgemental, and you can feel the shame prickling against the base of your neck and student after student scrutinizes the cuts on your arm.

For the first time ever, you’re glad that you don’t have any classes with Hajime. It makes it easier to avoid him, and you purposely choose to sit as far away as possible from their table in the lunchroom. You don’t bother responding to his messages either, every single text of his sending a bitter jolt of pain through you, and you eventually block his number.

Weeks later, you’re not sure he’d believe you even if you were to explain everything. What would you even say? That the scars on your arm were put there by someone else? By someone he knows and trusts? Oikawa and him seem closer than ever, and you start to wonder at your own stupidity. To think that you could ever get in between a bond as close as theirs - maybe Oikawa was right all along.

You’re walking home alone one day, the hazy late-day sun bathing the roads in a shimmering heat, when you hear footsteps and a voice behind you. Your heart hammers unsteadily, getting ready to run, when you hear three words that make your stomach drop.

“I’ve missed you.”

#don't want to clog up the tag so i'm just keeping this indulgence on my blog #tw.noncon #tw.self harm #tw.blood #tw.manipulation #lin.n*fw #tw.dc

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Text

Give in to Love

so I have several thots about this. Like with Kiri, he would be like, relieved you’re being submissive but then he’d become like super depressed that you aren’t like idk seeming to live in your body, like you’re just a husk and he’d get so worried and sad and pamper you with so much love.

Yeah so aside from Kiri, a yan that I imagine this type of scenario is with someone like Victor Nikiforov from YOI

yes. This Bitch right here.

So first fucking off, he’s rich. Money is no problem for him.

Second off, he’s so confident that he would not hesitate to do whatever he wanted.

Third, he’s actually pretty kind (especially to pretty, vulnerable little things like you)

It’d probably start out with the man spilling coffee all over you or something SUPER cliche like that.

(Warnings - not much. NSFW but only the teeniest tiniest bit. barely even a mention. but obvs Yandere, dub con, dark content.)

He’s in a rush, he was bursting out of the coffee-shop, you just so happened to be walking by and in the direct path of the door and so smacks into you, knocking you onto your butt.

Immediately, you’re being helped up by a silver haired man, he’s apologizing heavily, patting your clothes into place, smoothing your hair, steadying you onto your feet. He’s so sorry, he didn’t even see you! And then the man stops, looks at you, smiles blindingly and blurts out that you’re pretty.

You’re understandably stunned. but you quickly just brush it off, his accent is foreign, it’s probably just a cultural thing.

Then he’s offering to buy you something to make up for him trying to give you a concussion, asking if you like coffee, sweets, maybe a sweater? You look cold.

And you’re just so tired, life is exhausting, you don’t really even care anymore what happens to you. You don’t protest as the man doesn’t wait for an answer, immediately grabbing your hand and marching you into the coffee shop he had just burst out of.

“Pick anything you’d like, my treat! An apology for not paying attention to such a beautiful thing.” He smiles, gesturing at the menu.

You study it for a second, but there’s too many choices, and it’d just be easier if you didn’t have to, and you’re so used to people telling you what to do and making decisions for you and you’re lost. Where do you even start?

After a few moments of silence, the man (who's been not-so-subtly watching you as you deliberate) speaks up. “Can I pick? I LOVE their raspberry cheesecake! So good!”

It sounds fine, and you’re somewhat relieved that he was going to choose, take the burden of responsibility off of your shoulders.

He buys one of the giant slices, ushers you to table, sits you down. The man watches you take a bite, his face lighting up and giving a little clap when you give a thumbs up. He has his own fork, and he takes bits and pieces here and there from the slice. While you eat, he talks.

His name is Victor, he’s from Russia, are you from around here? What’s your name?

“That’s such a pretty name!” He says your name once, twice, rolling it around in his mouth like it’s something to savor.

Victor is a ball of energy, confident, full of life. He’s frankly an intimidating man, with how attractive he is, the obviously expensive suit he wears, the way he dominates the conversation and expertly handles your awkward silences and uncomfortable pauses.

By the time you leave, he’s entered his number into your phone, quickly scrolling to find your own number (even though he was only supposed to put in his own - but you really didn’t care) and note it down.

You’re pretty sure he won’t actually be texting or calling you - he was just being polite, feigning interest in someone as boring and pathetic as yourself.

Lo-and-behold, that evening you get a notification that “Vitya! (:” has texted you.

Hello! Is your body feeling alright?

Immediately confused, you send out a reply

Who is this?

It’s Victor!!! From the coffeeshop, haha.

Oh, hi (: your contact name says “Vitya” lol what a typo

Not a typo, I like it when pretty girls call me Vitya (;

Baffled, you don’t reply, and no further messages are exchanged.

A few days go by, Victor texts you on the fifth day, asking if you wouldn’t mind recommending some fun local activities. You have to apologize - you don’t get out much, you’re sure there’s info online though.

Victor asks why you don’t go out, you decide to be blunt and succinctly explain the fatigue, you’re anxious, this is your first time being out on your own and you’re so used to other people dictating your life that it feels uncomfortable and wrong to be able to make decisions.

The man asks if you would go to that coffeeshop again with him. The switch of topic relieves you, but at the same time you’re frowning. You probably word-vomited all over him, complaining about your problems.

For some reason, you agree.

He meets you at the coffeeshop again, this time not even bothering to ask what you’d like to order. Victor just gets a few cookies, leads you to a table and plops down, spreading them in front of the two of you

“In case you don’t like one of them. And if you have allergies!”

You smile at his explanation.

Victor slowly becomes a constant in your life.

The texts turn into quick calls, inviting you places, begging you to come sit with him in the park, feed some pigeons. Go to the grocery store with him? He’s lonely, don’t make him go by himself!

Even if you refuse, you’re gently bullied into doing virtually everything he says. It’s not like you mind though, you’re used to it.

He starts showing up at your apartment, you aren’t even sure when you gave him your address, but now he invites himself inside.

The first time he had shown up, completely unannounced, you had protested only once before letting him in. You could tell he was scrutinizing your home, but what did it matter? Victor was wealthy, everything you owned seemed shabby and poor.

He came over most nights, sometimes bringing food, making you sit with him at your table and eat. Sometimes he brought a book, or his laptop, and quietly sat on your couch while you puttered around. He’d always get distracted from what he was reading though, chattering towards you about this or that or the other.

Victor was nice.

He made decisions for you, he made you eat, he quickly picked up on when you were too tired to function, when all you could do was collapse somewhere and fall asleep.

But Victor was also threatening.

If you tried refusing him too many times, or if you mentioned your coworker telling a funny joke (It’s not like he wasn’t funny, the joke was hilarious - Victor just didn’t seem to like it) Victor’s face would sour, eyebrows drawing low, a deep frown etched onto his face. HIs voice would take on a commanding tone, low, as if he was going to do something that neither of you would enjoy if he had to ask again.

It was scary sometimes.

But he had invaded your life, and you had stood by and idly watched. It’s not like you had put up a fight. You didn’t even know why he hung around you so, with the way you were constantly tired, moving through life like a zombie, sad and sleepy all the time.

Months passed and like every other year of your life, you could barely remember them slipping by. When had Victor become so comfortable in your apartment? It made you uncomfortable, but you were used to discomfort.

It came to a head when you retreated to your room for a nap, body sore and fatigued from merely existing. Victor followed you, nagging about wearing something cooler, to drink some water, how he heard about this new thing recently-

He followed you into your bed.

Like it was normal. Crawling under the covers with you, still maintaining a respectful distance, still talking. You were so tired, you didn’t care about how it made you uncomfortable.

When you woke up, he was curled around you, holding you tight. When you shifted, he had perked up, peeking around your shoulder to see your face. He had been awake the whole time, just chilling.

It was weird.

You were too tired to fight it.

Victor started paying for too much.

Of course it started small, as everything concerning Victor did. Sweets, small little gifts, occasionally a week’s worth of groceries.

Then it escalated. He was paying for your medications, for your therapies, for your health aids. He started trailing after you to doctor’s appointments, introducing himself as a concerned friend.

You knew this wasn’t good, wasn’t healthy. Something was wrong about this, but you just didn’t care. Something was always wrong, you were always being directed and pushed towards this or that. You just had to accept it.

Then Victor was paying your rent, buying you clothes (since when did friends buy each other underwear?) surprising you with bigger and more expensive gifts until you tried to put your foot down.

You had gotten a stern talking-to, treated like an ungrateful child. And maybe you were? Victor was doing so much for you, shouldn’t you just accept his care?

Victor suggested that you move into his house, since he practically lives at your little apartment anyways.

“My place is so much cozier! I have a fireplace, I miss it! I want to spend time with you but we could hang out in a more-” He looked around at your apartment “-comfortable place?”

You tried to argue, you did. But it took one disapproving glance from Victor and you were subdued, meekly agreeing to do whatever he wanted.

He called your landlord to terminate your lease. He helped you pack your clothes (that he had bought) into boxes (that he had bought) and arranged for your furniture (that he had bought, always complaining that your couch was bad for his back) to be sold.

Once moving in with him, he got more and more affectionate.

Right from the start, you quickly realized that Victor was very tactile-oriented. He wasn’t shy about physical touch, always wanting to hold hands or giving super long hugs, or begging to cuddle. He didn’t think it was weird, so you tried not to think so either.

Now that you were in his house, his gigantic, expensive house, Victor became even more physical. He showered you with kisses on the cheek, pressed to your forehead, on your shoulder, your neck when he curled around you at night (because of course you slept in the same bed. Victor had just laughed when you asked where your bedroom was)

Eventually, he kissed you on the mouth.

You were surprised, but you didn’t fight it. Why would you?

A heartfelt confession followed - how he had fallen in love with you at first sight, and how every day he fell more and more in love with you. You were his everything, the light of his life, he would die for you.

Don’t you feel the same?

You did, because that’s what Victor wanted to hear.

So now the two of you were dating, sharing kisses and intimate touches and eventually sharing bodies, letting him touch you even though it made your flesh crawl, touching him because he asked you to.

He provided everything, it was simpler just to do what he asked, what he desired. You didn’t even really mind being told what to do, what to wear, what and when to eat - it gave you a sense of comfort, knowing that you didn’t have to make decisions for yourself like that.

Victor would take care of you.

Even when you didn’t want him to

After all, it was simply easier to give in to love

#yandere victor nikiforov #yandere #victor #victor nikiforov #dark victor nikiforov

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sevsssnape · 3 years

Note

Some Snape headcanons:

-He goes days at a time without showering due to being too busy, and the only successful way any of his colleagues had managed to get him to shower at least weekly is by threatening to give Peeves specific permission to pelt him with water balloons.

-His colleagues (and sometimes students) who go down to the kitchen at 4AM can find him perched on a counter eating a box of cereal.

-The dungeons get cold in the winter, so he has more than four thick blankets to sleep under. Every once in a great while, he makes a blanket nest in front of the fireplace to sleep in.

-He's overslept and missed his morning classes before. -Snape drinks tea, but he only drinks coffee when he needs a energy boost, because otherwise it makes his hands too shaky (which is a very bad thing if you need to slice ingredients. He's had Madam Pomfrey reattach his fingers once.)

-He's not above pilfering from Professor Sprout if he finds himself short on an ingredient. He makes sure to compensate her for it.

-This man does not like spiders. He won't freak out when he sees one, but he will go stock-still and keep his eye on it until he's able to either squish it with a book or trap it under a jar. -For some reason, horses and horse-adjacent creatures love him.

oh hello bestie :>

- yeah i think this is true, especially considering he has depression and how it fucks your life i agree and the part about peeves ghwejakdwef

- yep. definitely him. and not just ANY kind of cereal. he's the hugest fan of fruity pebbles and separates the colours while eating. like one spoonful of the yellow ones, one spoonful of the green ones and so on :_)

- hmm idk, considering he's the type of nerd that knows more spells and charms than Merlin himself, i think he would be walking around in a tank top and bermuda shorts in the dungeons while everyone else is freezing under a dozen layers of sweaters and coats, bc "you absolute imbeciles just charm your bloody clothes, what do you learn in those classes"

- yeah this TOTALLY happened. you can't tell me he and Minnie haven't ever stayed up all the fucking night drinking and missed their morning classes the next day, bc this has happened more than a TRILLION times, he told me himself. yep.

- ugh yeah, definitely agree. poor baby. and i think he's ACTUALLY a coffee person at heart but can't, bc what you said and also anxiety is a nasty little bitch. *sigh*

- yep. yep, that's it.

- oh yeah he hates spiders, BUT, he's fucking terrified of them. like goes fucking white. but doesn't ever show it bc you won't ruin that cool and composed facade, but deep down he's screaming like a three year old.

- aww yeah omg this so uwu and i think this has shocked more than a couple... hundred people over time, like "oh shit that horrifying beast is running towards snape like hell, yep, he's as good as dead" and then the creature just stops in front of him nuzzling their giant creepy face against his shoulder like a little cat and he's like "...get away from me you idiot" but is secretly loving it and BARELY keeping himself from petting the creature for the rest of the damn year, and everyone is staring in shock like... wow.

T______T <33

#severus snape #pro snape #i love him sm

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newswcanonprompts · 4 years

Text

prompt #37 - Jedi are like Magpies and love their clones

sorry we haven’t posted in forever! to make up for it, i’m posting one of our longest and detailed prompts (maybe even the longest)- this came from a LONG discussion a few weeks back, and it was a lot of fun. this idea morphed a ton, and it became this huge thing. this is personally my favorite one, so hope you enjoy!

Jedi collect trinkets and wear them!!! Hand them to others as a very important gift

The Clones dont really get it, but they are happy

The jedi make them things like jewelry, keychains, little beaded things, colored strings, they’ll give them feathers, you name it

Its another way to show that they are individuals, and that the jedi know them specifically

The veteran clones have long keychain type things and the shiny clones want them very much and it’s something they look forward to

The padawans hand the commanders things and being sad when the CC’s tell them they can’t take them into battle

Krell gets found out earlier.

“Okay, look, i know krell is… well, he is *something* and i don’t want to accuse a master of the order but have you looked at his men?! where the hell are their keychains?!”

The padawans stage a protest at the senate because how else are they going to make sure that their troops know they are loved and get their trinkets

This idea can get angsty really quickly (finding trinkets after battles, in ship crashes, or post-order 66), but we won’t do that because of how angsty this server already is, we need some fluff sometimes

Palaptine can commit self delete

Clones will paint armor for padawans cause that is how they show honor and stuff

The clones, upon figuring out what they mean, give their jedi trinkets also

Mirialan padawan holding armor they got: “ITS GREEN LIKE ME!”

There are little figurines, some painted rocks, some little shiny things found on the battlefield

The clones who aren’t as good with their hands singing songs or telling stories

The jedi record them and keep them on little datachips that they keep on them at all times

Barriss doesn’t go bad because this is happy time

The jedi padawans start a riot / protest outside the senate building because some clones got their trinkets taken away by asshole civilians because they’re “not human”, just copies

The (now very pissed off) jedi sprung into action

If a snooty senator(s) takes away a clone’s trinket, the jedi just sit back and grind to a halt. Because if the clones, the PEOPLE WHO PROTECT THE REPUBLIC, are gonna get treated like that, the war can wait

The jedi knights and masters just meditate wherever the padawans are protesting

This is done to ‘keep the peace’

If anakin hears a snooty senator degrade the clones, he starts ranting and shouting about their individuality and accomplishments, while pointing at each trinket.

Someone live streams this

Luminara joins in (barriss is right behind)

Aayla too

Luminara, anakin, aayla, tag teamed shouted speech

Ahsoka and barriss are being held back by the CC’s (ahsoka is making some very crude hand gestures and barriss is like “i can name every bone in your body as i break it” - cause barriss has all that healer knowledge)

Once these three are done, mace windu comes along with the council. They think mace is going to scold the three of them until mace starts shouting at the senators too. The council just lets mace do all the talking.

This is the most watched live stream this year. It’s very funny and starts a ton of memes (obi wans face, yoda meditating, the look of “oh shit” on the original snooty senator’s face, the look of surprise on everyone when mace starts shouting too - there is also a gif made of the council looking at the situation, looking at themselves (mostly mace) and then they all step back to let mace do the talking, the clones faces when they see that three jedi and then the jedi high council are defending them)

Mace, rolling up his sleeves: “okay let’s do this”

The senators: backing away in fear

Obi wan might commit a war crime right now because no way people can talk about his troops like that

Obi wan: “am i allowed to kill a senator?”

Cody: “General, do not-”

This whole thing leads to a massive debate and overwhelmingly good PR for the jedi and clones

Shady sheev doesn’t like that. Good PR for the jedi? No thank you. But since this is a fixit he gets his ass kicked later on so everything’s fine (skeevy sheev has to scramble to try to fix his plans though)

All the padawans from that one lightsaber episode (the one on ilum where the younglings got their kyber crystals) are there and SHIT’S GOING DOWN

Petro in particular is very close to kicking someone’s ass

Caleb dume is there also.

“Master depa said we should never raise our blades in revenge or anger. But this is not revenge.” this is war, this is justice, this is defense of a defenseless group

Padme also joins in all of this (but much more calmly)

She also might make some passive aggressive comments about the snooty senators trash outfit

She and all her senator friends are gonna blacklist the original culprit

Padme and bail organa (they also got help from many jedi) put in the clone rights bill the next day

In the halls outside the debate chamber, padme threatens to gut people with her hair pins if they don’t vote in her favor

sure, it’s *technically* extortion, but come on, who’s gonna stop her? those pins are pointy y’all

Anakin tried to help draft / present the bill but he spent most of his time ranting about the injustices the clones have to face (leia had to get it from someone)

Anakin, out of breath: “AND ALL YOU SENATORS JUST SIT HERE, DOING NOTHING, WHEN THEY’RE OUT THERE DYING FOR YOU-”

Padme: “okay ani i got this, drink some water please”

Ahsoka also jumps in

Plo, who’s watching the debate: “little ‘soka, please don’t hurt anyone” (but he’s not about to stop her, after all these are his sons we’re talking about)

If someone said “well they’re not slaves?” anakin would go OFF. if you thought he was angry before… you got another thing coming.

“I AM A FREED SLAVE! I KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE! THESE MEN HAVE LESS RIGHTS THAN I DID AS A SLAVE!”

If the public doesn’t know about his childhood before, they do now

Imagine the shock

Padme: “Ani, deep breaths, it’s gonna be okay.”

Also padme, to the other senators: “well i mean he’s not wrong you assholes”

Padme is also making very well timed comments and suggestions. It’s the most successful day she’s had since she became senator

She’s also revealing all the senators’ dirty secrets

Padme: “oh, senator so-and-so, i released all your finances and your voting history on the holonet. I’m sure your supporters will love that you’re embezzling funds. Oh, you lost your support? Tragic.”

The jedi also have dirt on everyone and they just casually let everything slip like they weren’t secrets

Shady sheev Palpacreep is in his little podium thing during the debate, and he is very pissed, because his plan is getting ruined, but he can’t let it show or else people will discover the truth about him

Anakin: “isn’t it great that we’re finally doing something about it?”

Sheev, pained: “Of course-”

This whole debate is still live streamed - and it’s very popular

The senate who made the original comment and started all of this is #cancelled

This is the greatest thing the galaxy has ever seen / watched because drama

If a jedi dies, and they aren’t brought back to the temple, they are burned with the other dead on the battlefield. Young padawans take their master’s trinkets in remembrance, wanting to follow their path and have tangible proof that the master passed into the force but that they left their mark in the world

You do not burn the trinkets. Krell tried once. It almost started a jedi civil war (maybe that’s how he gets found out)

Or maybe krell was found out because he gives zero trinkets to his men, and everyone caught on and were like “hey wtf man”

But if you wanna make it angsty ( cough cough umbara ) then krell tells the 501st to remove / burn / throw out their trinkets or he’d do it for them

He gives them an example by slicing a very special one that anakin and ahsoka both gave to rex

Krell also slices one of dogma’s. It was the only one dogma had because he was newish to the battalion at the time and wasn’t sure if accepting the trinkets was against regs or not. Krell slashes it and dogma doesn’t say anything but there were tears in his eyes

All the jedi who find out what happened replace all the trinkets so fast. They also give krell’s men a shit ton of presents.

Krell��s men have no idea what to do with them, but they are so touched a few shed tears when they get them

The clones get small tattoos of patterns that the little padawans drew for the men

The tattoos are small because some of them *might* just be random squiggles but the padawans looked so happy the clones just had to get them tattooed

Anakin orders japor wood with padme's bank account to make snippets for the clones because it’s not only a jedi thing, it’s from anakin's homeworld - and that’s like the highest praise you can get from him

The clones might not know exactly what it means but they know its super special

Padme figures out a way to buy japor wood in bulk. Anakin is very touched by this

When snooty senators start badmouthing clones, yoda just sits there and meditates to drive the senators nuts

“Sitting, i am, because stand you bitches, i cannot”

Padme gets many trinkets from the 501st because they all *know* about her and anakin

Any trinkets that she gets she likes to incorporate into her outfits (like the warrior fashionista that she is)

She embroiders some of them into her dresses and hairpieces

They both get a TON of trinkets when the twins are born

Padme also gives trinkets to the 501st, some of the 212th, and all of the coruscant guard. Especially fox cause she sees all the work he does and the senators he has to deal with

She’s besties with the coruscant guard. Like yeah, she knows the 501st and they know about her and anakin (and she’s one of them because of it) but the guard is who she’s always with

She probably wore red on debate day to represent them

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

alright, you asked. Cue Sanders Sides Swap AU number Five Billion! (original post here)

Morality!Remus:

He is...chaos.

Always has a huge smile on his face.

Changes his outfit every other week, but it always has a lot of flower prints and loud color schemes.

Pure energy.

Owns the room whenever he’s in it.

Has very little self-control and can sometimes come off as rude.

Makes a lot of snap judgments.

Lowkey willing to fuck up anyone who messes with his best buds.

LOVES disney

Pretends to be innocent, but makes a lot of dirty jokes while batting his eyes.

Misleading compliments for days!

“Boy, what an ass...et to your personality, am I right?” is completely him.

He’s actually really afraid of being hurt and takes things really personally.

The breakup hit him hard. He tried his best to move on but he still blamed himself for being Too Much and ruining things.

He’s more self-aware than people give him credit for. He knows sometimes he’s overbearing and hurts his friends but he doesn’t know how to stop.

On the morality side of things, he’s really loose about it. Always asking what Thomas thinks. He’s kind of afraid to be too harsh.

Best friends with Creativity!Logan and Anxiety!Roman. Argues with Logic!Janus a lot.

Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil kind of scares him from a morality perspective. And a personal perspective. He sees a lot of himself in Virgil’s exuberance and wonders if he’s really as rude and insensitive as Virgil is.

As for Deceit!Patton...things are complicated.

Creativity!Logan

Cue engineering montage from Big Hero Six.

Wears a science lab coat, his fingers are always stained with grease, his hair is ruffled from running his fingers through it.

Builds stuff. Loves robots and exploding beakers.

Gets very passionate about everything he creates.

Is lowkey the mechanic of the friendgroup and always fixes broken fridges or washing machines.

If you get him talking, he will NOT shut up. He’ll just jump from tangent to tangent for hours.

Owns a million bajillion books.

Has trouble making a good balance between his friendships and his work

Can come off as cold or disinterested when he’s really just thinking through a problem

Is a huge perfectionist.

Always tries to please everyone and reach their expectations for him. He wants everything to be nice enough for Morality!Remus, safe enough for Roman!Anxiety, and make enough sense for Logic!Janus.

Plus it has to meet his OWN standards, which means it has to be original and flawless and the best it can possibly be. And if it’s bad, then he’s failed as a person and Thomas will lose his job and die in the streets.

He may be a little OCD.

But he tears himself apart trying to meet these standards, sacrificing sleep and food, and it’s only after he finally cracks that his friends catch on.

He’s on good terms with Logic!Janus, although sometimes they argue. He’s best friends with Morality!Remus and is warming to Anxiety!Roman, though they sometimes argue. (Logan argues with a lot of people, he has a temper, especially if he hasn’t slept.)

His relationship with Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil is not great. Virgil represents all the chaos and unhinged energy he tries to avoid, and he feels that if he lets Virgil win, it’ll destroy the rules and boundaries he created. And without the limitations and expectations he’s surrounded in, he doesn’t really know who he is.

Kind of likes Deceit!Patton, though. His jokes are funny.

Anxiety!Roman

Ohhh boy.

Always has two hooked silver swords in his cloak.

‘Cause he’s ready for a fight at the slightest provocation.

Has absolutely almost taken Morality!Remus’ whole face out when he was startled.

Thomas probably has a severe anxiety disorder bc Roman has absolutely no chill.

Thinks up really imaginative scenarios in which Thomas dies or is hated by the entire world.

Insomniac.

Focuses a lot on Thomas being a Terrible Person and Hated By Everyone and Should Just Hide Before He Ruins Everything Else.

He’s accepted now, which is cool, but he’s still kinda insecure about his place in the group.

And before he was accepted? He made Thomas’ life a living nightmare.

Thomas still hasn’t fully recovered from some of the stuff Roman did.

Roman has apologized, and Thomas forgave him, but nobody can forget.

Roman has regular panic attacks. He tries not to let them affect Thomas, but it’s hard. Logic!Janus is the best at calming him down and Morality!Remus is the worst, just because he’s so overwhelming.

Jumps to all of the conclusion. He’s like a freaking frog with all the jumping he does.

Still a huge Disney nerd. Loves all the hero songs and wishes he was a hero, instead of the person born to be the villain.

Lowkey hates himself on a daily basis.

Nickname king.

He’s pretty good friends with Logic!Janus. Morality!Remus would die for him without hesitation and Roman thinks he’s a lot of fun. Him and Creativity!Logan have reached a tentative truce, but Roman always finds himself snapping at Logan. It doesn’t help that he just increases Logan’s perfectionist tendencies.

Thoughts on the Dark Sides are complicated for him. They used to be his best friends.

Now Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil is okay, kind of funny. Deceit!Patton? Can die in a fire for all he cares.

Logic!Janus.

You know that ‘um, actually’ friend? That’s Janus.

He will deliver all the knowledge with the most sass and panache possible.

Always looking for an opportunity to make the others look stupid.

Sarcasm central over here.

Can and will throw down with a bitch.

Self-care is his priority, because it’s logical to take care of yourself. This puts him in direct opposition with the others a lot, but he can handle it.

(No he can’t.)

Gladly plays devil’s advocate at every opportunity.

Debates. For. Days.

Don’t bring up paradoxes or his brain short-circuits.

Makes a million puns with a deadpan expression. No one’s quite sure how to respond to it.

Inside, he is a huge, massive dork. (And not the penis kind, Virgil.)

He really loves Disney, onesies, and fun turns of phrase.

Is really select with what he says. Always poised and ready to roll.

The few times he’s been caught off guard, nobody mentions again.

When he told his name after Morality!Remus did, Thomas laughed, and Janus is still salty about it.

He’s not that concerned with morality, so sometimes his logical suggestions include murder, arson, theft, or blackmail. They’re mostly jokes.

He’s not joking when he actually sides with Deceit!Patton on multiple occasions. Morality!Remus forgives him for it, but Janus thinks he hasn’t actually done anything wrong, and they have yet to actually talk through the growing resentment between them.

He can be a real asshole sometimes, blunt and straightforward. This makes friendship...hard.

But it’s fine. He doesn’t need friends anyway. All he needs is to keep Thomas and the others alive and successful.

He gets listened to--he wouldn’t allow anyone to ignore him--but they discount his advice more often than not.

It’s three against one, after all.

And Janus is the one nobody can stand.

(Even though he counts none of them as friends, he’s actually quite close with Anxiety!Roman and Morality!Remus. Even Creativity!Logan thinks he’s funny.)

As for the Dark Sides? They tolerate him, listen to him (especially Patton) and sometimes he wonders if he’d be better off with them instead.

Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil

Just vibing, let’s be real.

The epitome of Style (tm.) Piercings for days and always rocking killer eyeshadow.

Quotes memes on a daily basis.

Appears on top of the fridge randomly.

Way more relaxed than canon Virgil. Just having fun and living his life.

Loves conspiracies and cold cases, and reminds Thomas of them at one in the morning.

A force of chaos and does whatever he wants.

Can and will drink milk straight from the container, sit on whatever surface he wants, and respond to any complaints with “It do be like that sometimes.”

Societal conventions can go fuck themselves. If he wants to dress in fishnets and commit arson, no one can stop him.

“Vibe check,” he says and knocks Creativity!Logan out with a baseball bat.

Feral goblin child.

Wishes Logan would lighten up and give him more creative control.

His ideas are actually good! Just...not conventional. And kind of creepy sometimes. He likes horror stories.

And he does wreak havoc with intrusive thoughts, mostly the anxious and/or nihilistic kind, so Thomas isn’t inclined to let him stick around.

Deadpan and will slice into peoples’ insecurities with a glare if they try to threaten him.

“Big talk from the guy no one likes,” he says to Logic!Janus after Janus dismantles his claim that reality is an illusion.

“Why don’t you do everyone a favor and think for a fucking second about what you’re saying?” he asks Morality!Remus after Remus condemns Virgil’s ideas as mean.

“Nice to see you again,” he says with a smirk when Anxiety!Roman tries to get him to leave. “But knowing you, you’ll be back soon.”

Basically he tears into anyone who tries to force him into a mold or shut him up.

Except for Creativity!Logan. He’s always begging Logan for more power and Logan always shuts him down. Because he’s afraid of what Virgil means, afraid of how boundless creativity could affect his friends, afraid of the way Virgil can easily smash his carefully constructed standards.

Virgil really just wants the freedom to create what he wants.

And deep down, he kind of wants his brother back.

But he’s got Deceit!Patton, who thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread, so he’s alright.

Deceit!Patton

Okay so...this is not unsympathetic Patton. But this is maybe morally grey Patton. Fair warning here. I get it if you’re uncomfortable with that. He cares deeply about the people in his life but advocates some harmful coping mechanisms and...yeah.

He’s sunny. He’s bouncy. He’s always smiling and makes the best jokes.

He’s also fucking terrifying.

He’ll silence someone with a smile. He’ll say the most terrible things in the sweetest voice. He’s outwardly kind and supportive of everyone, but there’s steel underneath that.

He can impersonate people, although he doesn’t do it very often. He prefers to simply state his objective and convince Thomas.

And Thomas isn’t used to a Side that is so nice. That takes what he says into account. That doesn’t argue with the others or call anyone names. He loves his main Sides, but Patton makes him feel heard.

So he ends up almost giving Patton way more control than he should have.

‘Cause yeah, Patton is self-preservation. But he takes that in an, um, different direction than Janus would?

He’s the lies you tell yourself to make yourself feel better.

Small stuff. “It’ll be fine. Everything’s okay. It’s not a big problem. It’ll solve itself. I don’t need to study.”

Well, it seems like small stuff. Until it piles up.

Patton creates a facade around Thomas. He doesn’t want to solve problems. He doesn’t even think himself capable of that. Instead, if he hides the problems they have to go away, right?

He’s basically King of Repression.

He’s less about preserving Thomas’ health than preserving Thomas’ happiness.

And preserving happiness isn’t helpful when someone actually needs to work through their feelings.

Patton’s pretty damn terrified of negative emotions. And although he kind of knows that Thomas can’t hide from stuff forever, he’d scraped out a fragile status quo. This stuff gets worse before it gets better, and the kind of painful honesty that Thomas would need to confront this stuff...he’s scared of that.

He doesn’t want Thomas to get hurt. He doesn’t understand that hurt is natural and a part of life. He doesn’t understand that sometimes you need to hurt in order to grow.

He’s deceptively good, kind, and alluring. It’s only after you’ve taken his route that you realize how poisonous his ideas are.

He’s working on being better. And he’s got people inclined to help. Logic!Janus disagrees with him, but enjoys his company. (Patton’s the only one who never insults him.) Creativity!Logan tolerates him. Morality!Remus disagrees with him vocally, though. And Anxiety!Roman would gladly run him through.

Thomas admits that Patton is a valid part of him. However, Patton still needs to understand the difference between protection and suffocation. Repression is bad for you, and right now, so is Patton.

However, everyone’s growing and learning. So maybe Patton has a chance to be...better.

If anyone’s interested, I could write what I think the episodes would be and how they would play out!

296 notes · View notes

cajunquandary · 3 years

Text

A Beacon to Beasts

AO3 Link (in the works, check back later)

Summary: While Dean is in Purgatory, he comes across some interesting monsters who help him through.

Created for @spndarkbingo

Square Filled: Fornication

Rating: R (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Benny

Warnings: Dark Fic. Canon level violence, SMUT (p in v, biting, anal, oral, dp, unprotected sex *dont be silly wrap the willy,* all the smut, also I might be developing a praise!kink here??), angst, traumatic memories. If you squint: suicide, Destiel, Denny

Word Count: 7600

A/N: Originally published in early 2017, this is a total rewrite with the tremendous help of @thinkinghardhardlythinking and @wonder-cole. You talented bitches. I love you.

Lightning spider-webbed across the sky, for a brief moment illuminating every shadow across Purgatory. The forest practically hissed in the unwelcome brightness as the trees whispered amongst themselves. A crack of thunder caused a quake larger than you’d felt in the god forsaken land ever before. It cracked the sound barrier, bent the hellscape reality at all of its slithering edges, and sent a shockwave so powerful it nearly tore apart every cell in your body. With an eerie silence, darkness fell again, and as your eyes adjusted, you could see that the beast attacking you was fleeing the other direction from whence it’d come—no, not fleeing. It was chasing the impact.

Something pulled in your chest like a red-hot meat hook, something that sent sparks of electricity straight into your brain and signaling an overwhelming raw need. You were familiar with such will-crushing lust. Your fangs were proof. But this… this was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before. It nearly drove you mad. You could feel your mind slipping, until you took a step forward, then another, and another. The more you walked towards the source of the prior disturbance, the more sated you felt. The more whole.

It took weeks of fighting others like you and endless backtracking to find the source—a vampire and another beast. It was a bit like a human, but no humans could be in Purgatory. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating.

Your body shuddered at the proximity of the delicious flesh. The warmth. You were merely a moth, drawn to a flame of your own destruction. Your head swam and you reached towards the man, but another fang sped from the shadows opposite you first. This was just enough of a distraction to pull you back from the brink.

You crouched behind a half-rotten tree, only one eye peeking from behind your cover. The human barely had time to react before the fiend had him forced into the well-trodden packed earth. His fall was hard. Your mouth watered as his pulse quickened and echoed through your soul.

The vampire accompanying the human sent the attacker’s head flying so closely that spattered monster blood landed on your hand. The foul stench drove you deeper into the safety of the trunk. You didn’t want to be next.

In this land, the best way to survive was to stay hidden, quiet, so you decided to follow them for the first few weeks, being careful to keep to the shadows. The thirst for the human ebbed and swelled unpredictably. At times, it was all you could do to resist the pulse exposed on his neck, especially when the man slept.

For days you tried to figure out what the other one was, who he was, but damn, was he a monster magnet. You’d been in pretty thick shit before, but never like this. Your cover was nearly blown a few times a day, but you were thankful the two were too busy fighting their own to notice you.

“Damn, man. You’re humanity is gon get us kilt.” The vampire wiped the rancid blood from his blade on the latest dead monster’s shirt.

“Yeah well, as soon as we find Cas, we’re getting the hell out of hell.” A human in Purgatory? How? No wonder there had been such a disturbance. He must have been pulled here by a great force--one that very nearly ripped the entire existence apart.

“Hey brother, I’m startin to think the angel don’t wanna be found. Dean, think about it. Every time we get close, he disappears again.”

“Benny—don’t.” The human stormed away from the vampire. What was going on? A human and an angel? Things must be getting really messy up top.

The vampire, Benny, turned suddenly in your direction, and you closed your eyes, hoping the thick layer of leaves and thorny bushes camouflaged you well enough. It must have, because he merely shrugged and walked after Dean.

This night was the quietest it had been since The Event. It had been hours since the last monster attack and you were almost as exhausted as they looked. It wasn’t long before the men settled down into the dust and a pile of dry brush and began to lightly snore. Usually one stood guard as the other slept, but on this occasion, both must have been too far gone to care.

You crept slowly forward, focused completely on the human. He was so beautiful. The creases of his forehead were reduced to fine lines as he slumbered, slow, tender breath fluttering across weary-pale swollen lips, freckles and mud mixed on his cheeks, hair tousled and bloodied, yet still so soft and shiny. His lashes twitched as he dreamed. You were only a few feet away now, beginning to feel lost in the warmth radiating from him, drunk in the light from his soul.

A sharp pain through your side interrupted your trance and you collapsed into a prickly shrub. Between gulps of agony, you could just make out that you were pinned to the ground with a rough makeshift javelin, reminiscent of a butterfly pinned to a shadow box as you’d owned as a human. You screamed in pain, and if you weren’t already twice dead, you’d worry about losing too much blood.

A pair of boots came into your view. “I smelled you days ago. I know you’ve been followin’ us. Why haven’t you attacked? You workin for someone?”

You looked from under your brows, straining to see if Dean was still where he had been, but found nothing. All you could do was gasp shallowly against the burning splinters. It had been years since anyone had gotten the jump on you like this. The bit of human that was left within you prayed that this was a bad dream, that you would wake in a moment in the gently swaying safety of the treetops.

The javelin was ripped from your aching side, and you screamed again as your organs smacked back together in the loss of pressure. The vampire threw you against the nearest tree. Through the pain that overwhelmed your ability to flee, you watched in utter captivation as the human secured you with heavy, rusted chains.

The latter bent close to your face, piercing green eyes a stark contrast to the caked mud and blood spattered across pale cheeks. “Now look, you piece of shit. I’m gonna waste you like I’ve wasted every damn thing in this place. But first, you’re gonna tell me where the angel is, and why you’ve been following us. If I like your answer, I’ll make it quick. If not… well, I don’t normally like the answers.” He smirked, tilting his head just slightly as if he was considering just how he was going to end you.

You gulped hard knowing the human meant business. You’d seen him firsthand, the violence, the rage. All this man left behind him were wide trails of blood.

You were shaking now, feverish and confused. When had your fangs come out? You retracted them in an attempt to look less intimidating and more cooperative. Between gritted teeth and a gradual tunneling of vision, you managed to respond. “I’ve been tracking you since you arrived. There was this storm, and I’ve felt a pull towards you the whole time. I-I don’t work for anyone, I swear.” His gnarly blade pressed into the soft flesh of your throat now and panic was rising and threatening to close off your throat if the blade didn’t do it first. “I didn’t even know about the angel until earlier today when I overheard you.”

“Well. I don’t think I like your answer.” Dean sliced deeply into your arm, which produced a guttural scream from deep within your core. The blade itself didn’t hurt that bad, but whatever was on it sure did. Benny walked away, knowing what was coming. Benny was a monster—Dean was worse.

“P-please I don’t know, I just know the light—your soul is like a candle in this endless darkness. I’ve been here for so, so long and you feel like home, like safety. I crave your closeness and I don’t know the details of why, but I couldn’t hurt you.”

Benny looked over his shoulder as Dean paused. Something struck a chord. Benny walked back over and pulled Dean slightly off to the side, almost out of earshot.

“Brother, I think she’s tellin’ the truth. We should give this one a chance to talk.”

“Why? She doesn’t know anything about Cas. She’s just another monster in my way.”

“And so was I. We were both human once. Let’s hear her out. She hasn’t even fought back.”

The fatigue and injuries caught up with you. Focusing on the thick red-black ooze streaming from your wounds, sleep was finding you swiftly with your head falling forward, blood-soaked hair in your eyes and chest pulled tight against the restraints.

Dean lifted your chin with the end of his blade, remnants of your internals still glistening on the edge. Your eyes followed the length of his arm to his face where he held you in an unwavering gaze. Those eyes were greener than anything in this world—more than the trees you hid in, the brush around you, or the sparse grass beneath your feet.

You seized your breath and relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into those eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting. Your mortal soul had been tired in life, grown wearier after you were turned, another century had passed before you’d been sent here after a hunter took you out. The memory flashed by: how you sat there on your knees, glad to be facing the barrel of the gun after so long that you didn’t even fight. Had you known you’d end up here, you may have fought more to stay topside. But now, you faced oblivion, or so you hoped. This would finally be the end of the suffering, the fighting.

Dean must have read the all-too-familiar look of defeat and acceptance in your face. He lowered the knife, letting your head fall forward again, and caught you in his arms as the chains broke and clattered to the dust.

He leaned you against the base of the tree. You weakly gazed upward through hooded eyes, wanting to see past the leaves to the empty sky, but couldn’t. It was all grisly branches for a hundred feet up.

“Why were you creeping up on me?” Dean pulled your attention back to them.

Battling the unconsciousness that nipped unwaveringly at the corners of your mind, you whispered, “The ache in my chest… the closer I get to you, the easier it is to handle. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed to be... closer.”

“And is this better?” He motioned to the foot’s distance between you.

“Yeah,” You half-smiled through gritted teeth, the pain from your side still throbbing. It wouldn’t kill you. Nothing in Purgatory killed a monster except another monster—usually by beheading. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and left you exposed and vulnerable like a wounded animal.

He pursed his lips and shared a look with Benny, who shrugged. “I’ll stay up and watch, Dean. You get more rest before it starts again. And I’ll watch you, specifically.” The other vampire motioned at you, an intensity behind his blue eyes you could identify with. This human was meant to be protected, no matter the personal cost.

Dean was soon asleep again, his back turned to you.

The earth supporting your broken form was anything but forgiving. But still, you weren’t going to waste time whimpering to yourself now that you were a part of the misfit group. “Benny, where are you from? How long have you been here?” You wondered aloud.

He eyed you suspiciously, pausing before he answered. “I ran with a crew out of Louisiana, but we sailed all over the Americas. Been here a long time.”

You adjusted your position with a grunt. Benny’s hand was already on his weapon. “Calm down, sailor, just tryin to get comfortable... I’m from Shreveport. Been here a long time, too. Only did about two centuries up top, though.”

“Well, I’ve got a few on you then, sister. Shreveport was nice. Rolled through there a few times.” The vampire chuckled at the memory.

Even still, your body had different plans for the evening, and if anything else was said afterwards, you wouldn’t remember. Rest was in the cards that evening, even if your mind protested. Between stretches of sweet nothing, nightmarish memories flashed by in haphazard, non-chronological snippets.

There you stood, on the bridge above deep, twisting waters. Though the wind whipped your hair wildly, you could feel nothing. Not since the day you were bit.

Then you were in the shed on your grandfather’s land, centuries before, when you were young but still so old. Had you ever had a chance? And there were fires and anthills, guns and chains.

Before that one could go where you knew it would, you shot awake. Benny raised a concerned brow in your direction, but you couldn’t face him. Not after that. Within moments, sleep took you once again.

The butterfly pinned in the box. Such a stark contrast was that orange and red and blue against the green felt and the glint of silver pins. You would chuckle at the sight if you could. Tiny fingers traced the outline of the glass.

Then you were on your knees. You didn’t even fight. This? This was the day you died… the second time. By the hands of an inexperienced young hunter who was too focused on fighting with his dad to even notice you there. I mean, he practically tripped over you. The boy looked tall for his age, hazel eyes partially obscured by choppy bangs and mouth pressed into a thin line. He hesitated too long. You’d cocked your head to the side, wondering if he even had it in him to off you, and you almost felt sorry for the kid. Especially when his dad saw. The old black-haired ass berated him, belittled him. Compared him to his older brother. A disgrace, he’d said. Nothing like him, nothing like Mary. When the boy could look you in the eyes, you gave a slight nod as if to say, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Those bright hazel eyes morphed into the moon cast over a monster wasteland.

By morning’s light, you felt better, somewhat healed, but mostly sore. You and Benny spoke all the while, learned your ins and outs, and caught up on the situation with Dean, the toothy leviathans, the apocalypse (again), the dick angels, and everything else Dean had filled him in on weeks ago. If you weren’t in Purgatory yourself, you never would’ve believed all this. I mean, angels? C’mon.

Sure enough, Benny was right. Beasts continued to attack in waves. There were a few close calls, and not one would speak of the whereabouts of the angel Castiel, though a few tried to save themselves by spouting lies. Dean would see right through them. It only ever took one question. “What color are the angel’s eyes?” A few had gotten lucky and guessed blue, but Dean didn’t even accept that answer. You asked once, what answer he was hoping for. He only shook his head in response.

There were times, though, when he would describe Cas to you in the quiet of night, and it was like listening to a lost lover. Dean gave in after some months and described the angel’s eyes as full of grace, blue, but slightly glowing. And not just any blue, no. The bluest blue you could ever imagine. The purest blue. He spoke longingly about things they’d done, things he wanted to do, wanted to say. Needed to say. You would close your eyes and drift off to him mumbling stories of Cas, the fondness softening his voice.

It was dark again and the almost empty end of a particularly difficult day. You’d all sustained serious injuries from the violent fray that only seemed to become more dense as of late. You and Benny would heal quickly, but Dean wouldn’t… and you worried for him, lingering protectively close.

The weary hunter screamed in time with the monster as he thrust his knife through its eye, his voice echoing long after the lifeless body crumpled in front of him. In a rage, he threw his weapon down, stalking over to a nearby tree. He punched, kicked and threw himself against the bark until he was nearly bloodied beyond recognition. Benny could only look down, powerless to help his friend. Unable to watch any longer, you forced yourself between Dean and the tree. His eyes were closed until his bruised fists struck soft skin stretched over bone, the unexpected change in texture catching him off guard. You winced against it but grabbed his jacket in both hands, balling your own fists into it to hold him firmly in place. Jerking him forward until you were nose to nose, breath and blood mixing, you growled, “We will find him, Dean. But not if you kill yourself first.”

“Y-you sound like him,” His voice cracked and his head fell to your shoulder. You could feel his tears, hot on your frozen skin. This world was so cold and it never ceased to amaze you how he kept his warmth. You held him tightly, even as his knees buckled and swayed. By the state of those green eyes, you could see resignation and defeat creeping up on him.

You shared a look with Benny, and he knew, too. “I’ll keep watch. You make him rest, cher.” You’d come to learn that Benny preferred to keep watch from all the years he’d had to watch his own backside here. You’d survived in hiding, while he’d made a name for himself—a killer, like Dean (not that either of them ever wanted to be.) You had to give it to him, though. After all, you’d tried to fight off everything in the beginning, but it was too tiring, like living was. So instead, you learned to thrive in shadows and whispers, moving like a ghost through whispers of the trees.

You were grateful for the moment alone with the warm beacon of a man, though. If the electricity across your skin anytime you touched the human indicated anything, it was a confirmation of your heart’s longing. You kept him pulled flush against your chest, his heartbeat so strong that it reverberated through your body. You focused on the feeling. How many centuries had it been since you felt your own beating? Dean’s was so strong it could surely support you both, you thought.

With a groan, Dean pulled the two of you down into a horizontal heap. You couldn’t make out the details of his face in the dark abyss of night, but his heart rate had shifted notably, along with his breathing. His anguish was palpable and you couldn’t help but to take some of it on as your own. He exuded it, it leaked from every pore.

Supple lips brushed against yours, and you closed your eyes, slowly guiding one hand to his back above you and the other through his hair. It was as soft and silky as you’d hoped it was. You pulled just slightly, allowing your nails to gently spread and retract in circular motions. Dean clenched, the softest sounds carrying on the thick night air. Smiling at the reaction, you carded through the messy spikes and repeated the measure for several moments before Dean crashed into you, with his sudden need matching yours. Every kiss grew deeper, longer, and your tongues began to wrestle gently but urgently between locked lips. He grabbed at you hungrily with a certain ease, unable to hold back anymore, with palms stroking openly up and down your torso, until they slipped below your core.

You both pushed and pulled, wallowed and rolled, careful of injuries but powerless to pull away, fighting to get closer. You helped him slip from his leather jacket, and he groaned into your mouth with a tantalising mixture of pain and pleasure. The sound made you shiver, and you hastily removed yourselves from worn and tattered pants, breaking only for a moment.

“Shh, Dean,” you whispered next to his ear. He nodded, understanding that even in this embrace, you were exposed and hunted. But with skin on skin, it was difficult to keep logic and sanity at the forefront of your mind.

Dean slowed his pace and shifted until you were straddling him. With a touch so light it tickled, he let his hands trace every angle of your body, until he felt the latest wound and drew back suddenly.

“It’s okay,” you breathed into his gaping mouth.

“No, I-- I’m sorry.” His voice was feeble, desperate.

Taking his hand in yours, you placed it back where it’d been. It was a small gesture, but the effect it had on Dean was profound. With both hands now, he clutched your sides so tightly, it sent swells of something delicious straight to your center, before rippling out to every nerve ending exposed to the cool air, and then some.

Just as you began to give in, a rustle from only several feet away snapped you back to reality. You shot up upon bare feet, weapon already in your hand as you scanned the malevolent shadows for the source, listening and feeling for any shift in the air. Dean lay frozen by your feet, head still spinning in weakness and lust.

In a swift turn on the balls of your feet, you faced the intruder, ready for war.

“It’s just me, cher. I heard something and wanted to make sure you two were okay.” As Benny took in the situation, he laughed softly. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll be over there…”

With an annoyed frown, you allowed your stance to go slack. “Thanks.”

Dean touched your leg, leaning in to kiss it lightly before planting a little nibble at your ankle. You slipped back down next to him, gasping when he quickly found your neck and nipped along your clavicle to the sweet spot in the hollow of your neck.

He was shaking slightly under the strain, but lifted himself atop you. To help keep him steady, you placed your hands on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his torso. With a grateful kiss, he traced his tongue across your bottom lips as he lined himself at your entrance.

His tip sank into your soaked folds and his resulting keen made you tremble beneath him, itching for more. “Dean, p-please…”

“What do you want?”

You rotated your hips against his, fighting to make him move. “Please, fuck… Dean I need you. Need more.”

Your begging tore his resolve to shreds and he sunk into you, stretching and filling you like nothing ever before. Your back arched at the sensations as they nearly overwhelmed you, drowning out the hell around you and leaving only Dean. Your heavy breathing barely registered as you whined his name. A shallow shriek betrayed you. Dean placed a calloused hand over your mouth, and it only drove you more mad.

As he bottomed out and began short but powerful thrusts, tears gathered at the edges of your eyes. Everytime, he hit that sweet spot. Everytime, you whimpered into his hand and dug your fingers into his flesh tighter. Everytime, he moaned in response.

It wasn’t long before those slow, drawn out jolts coiled you so tight you could barely contain yourself. Dean could sense the change as you began to rub against him, allowing the friction to take you over the edge. Right as you fell off into a fierce and roiling sea of ecstasy, Dean replaced his hand over your mouth with his own, swallowing your choppy breaths as you twitched and spasmed beneath him.

Still lost in the swell, you felt the hunter release and fall, spent, onto your chest. You managed to wrap your arms around him and held him steadfastly, not ready to let go. It was incredible to watch Dean unravel and relax for the first time. In fact, it’d just become your favorite drug.

Unknown to the broken lovers, a pair of “gorilla-wolves” attempted to interrupt throughout the steamy romp in the leaves, but Benny quickly took care of them. The nasty things wouldn’t have gotten as close as they had, but the vampire had been distracted by the sinfully delicious sounds coming from the far side of the tree. He’d tried to ignore it at first but found his mind wandering. It’d been ages since he’d felt the touch of another being, and the want rose up in him, a fire in his stomach.

You panted next to Dean when he rolled to the side, your injuries far from mind in the lasting rapture from being one with the human. His breathing was still ragged, but slowing. The wound on the back of his shoulder had reopened. Begrudgingly , he let you patch it again. Once dressed, you fell back to the sorry bed of leaves. Dean nuzzled into your side and let out a pained sigh as sleep found him. You could’ve sworn you heard the faintest “Don’t let me die here…” fall from his lips. Your grip on him tightened. You’d get him out if it killed you. But first, you had to find that elusive angel.

It was another month of the same routine. Days and nights ran together. The closer you got to the angel, the denser the swarm of monsters was. Even Benny seemed to be on his last leg. You offered to keep watch this time. At first Benny protested, but you shut him down.

“It’s broad daylight out here. I can see them coming from far enough off, I can give you plenty of time to wake up and fight if I can’t handle it. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t feel like protesting too much, and finally nodded, sad blue eyes locking on yours in a silent promise of trust in comradery.

A few hours passed, and you stood to stretch. A twig snapped behind you, and you twirled quickly, your knife to Benny’s throat. His hands raised. “Sorry cher, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nearly lost your fool head. Why aren’t you resting?” You dropped your arms and stood next to the vampire, staring out through the forest again, scanning. Listening.

“I rested enough.”

“Right, that’s why you have to use that tree to support yourself.” His lips pressed into a hard smile, electric eyes dropping to the ground. When he looked back up, something in them had changed. He reached towards you, hesitant, and brushed the wavy mess of hair from your face behind your ear, hand gently gliding across your jaw until his thumb rested on your lip.

You closed your eyes and shuddered under the vampire’s touch. It was more familiar than Dean’s. You leaned into it, following as it guided you into his embrace. He was larger than Dean and still smelled of the swamp and sea. The scent was intoxicating, dragging all of your attention to Benny.

He pulled back for a moment and cradled your face in the large, thick hands of a sailor. “You okay with this? Don’t want you to feel pressured, darlin’.”

“Mm not pressured,” you smiled up into those spirited sharp blue eyes. You lost yourself in them, completely ensnared. You could see past them, to cerulean glittering waters, could feel the lapping of them against your old boat, hear the seagulls and crows chattering as they glided on heatwaves, taste the salt on your tongue.

You stretched up on your tiptoes, craning to taste the salt on his lips, feel the waves in the way his tongue twists. Benny must have felt the same, as he met your parted lips in a feverish kiss, maneuvering you effortlessly between himself and the tree for support until he was rutting into you.

The touch was bittersweet and starved, driving both of you as you stripped away layers. Benny pressed into you until the bark bit into your back and arms. You knocked the hat from atop his head to get closer, to guide him in, and he responded by taking the thin flesh of your neck into his mouth. Fangs drug thin scratch lines over your chest and shoulders, followed by sucking kisses. Benny grunted as he settled next to your ear, the growing bulge in his remaining trousers becoming almost painful in the restriction.

Sensing this, you moved to loosen the last piece of his clothing until it slumped to his ankles, all the while raw, needy noises spilled from your mouth. If only you’d found each other topside, things would have been better. You wouldn’t have let that young, long-haired hunter boy and his grumpy father kill you.

In one smooth move, Benny hooked his fingers into your jeans and slid them off, until you were completely free of them. With lust in your eyes, you found his full lips once more. You bit and sucked at his bottom lip until he was throbbing against you and whispering your name in short breaths in desperation.

With a slight adjustment in position, he grabbed your ribcage and lifted you just enough to line himself at your entrance. Hungrily, you raised your knees and rested them on his sides. You dug your nails into his shoulders in anticipation, but he didn’t keep you waiting long. With a final shift of his angle, Benny slid into you unrestrained.

His pace was unforgiving. He was rougher, more desperate, yet somehow more controlled than Dean. Pain was something you both knew too well, and found pleasure in at this moment. Neither of you had to hold back in fear of hurting the other.

Benny muttered a long string of praises as he placed his cheek on yours and relished in the fragmented breaths and mewls leaking from your gaping mouth.

Between the friction to your front and the sharp ache in your back, the intense set of his pace brought unwanted tears to the corners of your eyes. Before you knew it, he had you biting back a scream as you came in his arms, your back digging into the tree as he held you through it. You sank your teeth into his neck, drawing blood and pushing back the sharper set as they threatened to emerge. He snarled into your ear and released, standing for a moment, relishing in your closeness.

For a time, you just remained in that position as he softened inside you, foreheads resting fondly on each other.

Dean stirred, grumbling as he woke. With a silently shared promise to continue the embrace another day, the two of you straightened yourselves back out and rounded the tree to greet the sleep-starved human.

Over the next two weeks, the three of you grew much closer. Sometimes in between attacks, you took solace in each other. Most times it was talk, but when words were too difficult and your bodies needed to feel something… else, something primal and good and pure, they would pass you between them, never straying too far.

Benny's eyes would always drift and land upon Deans. It intoxicated him, pulled at his heart in ways that tore him apart. Deep green eyes, full of hope and goodness and humanity… something fragile yet unbreakable, much like what he once saw in Andrea’s. Just like Andrea’s. As much as he tried to put her memory to rest, Dean’s gaze would always take his breath, whether they were fighting or fucking, and the feelings that washed over Benny were wild and raw.

You ventured off to scout ahead one day, leaving Benny to help Dean walk after a surprise run in with a gorilla wolf didn’t fare so well. Those things sure liked Dean. Could you blame them? As you cleared the spaces ahead, you reminisced on the first time it happened.

It’d started innocently enough, some kissing and tender touches traded between you and Dean. You craved comfort, and his touch never disappointed. The fading daylight illuminated something… different, something new in his eyes. There was a spark of acceptance? Resignation? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for some reason the usually tightly wound hunter was relaxed. His movements were delicate and slow, a stark contrast to the usual quickie on the run.

You nearly lost your balance when he stripped your pants away and traced deliberate sucking kisses down to your sweet spot. You’d had to catch yourself from falling over at the heady sensations, threading your hands into his hair and holding on for dear life (or death.) Within moments, Benny swooped in to support you from behind, snaking a strong arm around your stomach as Dean began to lick and hum and stroke you in ways you’d never felt. Your blood burned like fire, causing every inch of your skin to become more sensitive.

Benny brushed the hair from your shoulder with his free hand, then took a fistful of it and guided your head back. With a contented sigh, he took your exposed neck into his mouth and you twitched violently between the shivers running down and the heat rising up. The contrast of Dean’s soft lips to the burn of his stubble mirrored that of the rough, blood soaked fabric of Benny’s jacket against the smooth of your skin… and it drove you mad. Your vision swelled with every wave and the sounds of the cursed world around you faded as if cotton had been shoved in your ears.

Your legs gave way and you fell into Dean’s lap as he chuckled, watching you come undone. The orgasm hit you somewhere along the way down, untouched but wound so tightly that you couldn’t hold out another moment.

While you writhed against him, Dean held you securely to his chest with arms that crushed into your ribs and pinned your arms to your sides. Your head finally came to rest upon his shoulder, and as your senses eased back into focus, you realized that you were completely laid down upon his bare chest. Still buzzing from the high, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck and laid a small peck. Dean’s resulting smile stretched wide, and you could feel it there without even needing to see it.

“You okay, baby?” Dean gently stroked your back up and down with one hand, and moved to tangle strong fingers in your hair to hold the base of your head tenderly with the other.

When you found your voice, you muttered a small, “yeah, thank you.”

Benny kneeled beside you and lowered his face until your foreheads met, the three of you so impossibly close. “You up for some more, sugar?”

You smiled wryly and closed your eyes. “Yeah, I’m all yours.”

Though your limbs were but heavy gelatin, you managed to lift out of your shirt as the men undressed. Pulling Dean’s discarded coat over you like a blanket, you rested against a fallen tree and admired them. Dean was more slender, but faster and stronger. The way his muscles rippled and creased beneath pale, freckled skin reminded you of a swimmer--all lean and mean. He was graceful in every movement, like a dancer. Benny was a little more solid, built like a tank. Maybe he wasn’t as fast, but there was no going through him. You’d seen beasts hit him straight on with full power, and the vampire had barely flinched. Those fists could break anything, but his face was always… soft. Kind. Dean’s was hardened, but you couldn’t blame him. And yes, there were moments, like this, where the lines of his face smoothed, and some color returned to his cheeks.

How you’d ever found Heaven in this Hell, you’d never come to understand. But you were ever grateful. Hopeful for a future with them topside, however it may go.

Dean’s outstretched hand pulled you from your daydream. You took it, letting the jacket go as he helped you stand. As you stood, he continued to pull you forward until you were flush with him. He pressed a firm kiss to your scalp and rubbed his palms up and down your body. His cock twitched against your belly, and you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing just a little tighter at the new flood of arousal.

Benny snaked his arms around you from behind, until his hands rested on your neck, not gripping, but just *there.* The weight of them naturally guided your head to fall back against his chest. He growled into your ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful. So good for us, cher.”

Your mouth fell agape and released a strangled moan as Dean kissed along your exposed neck and mumbled a steady stream of “You’re such a good girl for us, such a good fighter, a great companion.”

With every word, a new fire raged through your veins. Your face burned hot. Dean’s hands wandered south, caressing every inch passionately. One hand found its home grasping your thigh right under your ass, and the other came to rest in your dripping folds. You bucked against the touch and right into Benny’s length resting between your cheeks.

You whimpered, needing more, needing release. “D-Dean please, fuck. I need you. I want you inside me, please--unnghh.”

Dean teased your entrance for a moment more before the wrecked look on your face and the subtle, high pitched sounds spilling from you completely enraptured him. Benny nodded, moving his hands to steady your sides as you squirmed uncontrollably. With a swift movement, you were raised up with both of Dean’s hands cupping and spreading your ass until he lined up at your folds and let you sink down much too slowly.

Pathetic cries filled the air as you struggled to maintain control, the stretch of him almost too much to handle and not nearly enough all at once. You shook and grabbed at anything you could hold with a flutter in your chest that threatened to make you implode. And yet, the intense feelings only grew. Benny planted himself and anchored with a strong arm outstretched and clutching to Dean’s shoulder.

Dean bit his lip fiercely and let out a pained groan at the other man’s unyielding hold on him. His cock twitched again as he bottomed out deep inside you. The depth burned and ached, and with it your eyes came to focus on Dean’s.

The emerald green was more prominent now, outlined by the hot blush beneath a spray of freckles. His brows were drawn tightly and jaw slack, full, pink lips parted in bliss. His breathing was erratic, and with every intake of cool evening air, Dean trembled.

You mewled and whined, shifted against them, desperate for friction. The slightest broken smile graced the hunter’s face and he nodded, knowing but not yet ready.

Tears already began to gather as you fought the urge to physically fight the men into submission, to finally scratch that itch. Benny didn’t leave you waiting much longer though, before he was slipping and pushing into place in your ass. The deliberate burn of him spreading you open opposite Dean left you thrashing between them.

Dean took a deep breath in as a reminder for you to do the same. If it weren’t for him grounding you and helping you through, the black void would’ve already sucked you in as another victim. You did your best to relax and bore down, allowing Benny to fill your other hole completely to his base.

The vampire grimaced through his own keening, the tightness of you nearly sending him over the edge right there and then. You stilled between them, already on the verge of destruction as the three of you adjusted to the new feelings washing over you in waves.

Dean’s lips found yours, open and wanting. Taking his tongue hungrily into your mouth, you sucked and fell absolutely limp as he sucked your lower lip between his. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating, and you were ready once more.

Benny began to move in tandem with Dean. With every movement of the both of them against your thin membrane, a wailing cry seeped between your clenched teeth. Benny was now clutching both of Dean’s shoulders so tightly that were white bloodless patches beneath each of his fingertips. This made Dean buck harder until the hunter’s eyes shut tightly and left his head bobbing backwards in lust.

The symphony of your cries was lost beneath those of the two men, who shuddered and swayed. The sweet, sinful music flooded your mind and sent you reeling over the edge once more, clenching and swearing and falling against Benny’s outstretched arm.

Dean’s thrusts faltered as his stuttered, “I’m.. I’m about to--”

“Just let go, brother,” Benny encouraged.

It was the only confirmation Dean needed before his load spilled into you, sending renewed longing to your stomach as he pulsed inside you. “Fuck Dean,.. You feel so good,” you managed.

Benny came seconds later, and you relished in the full warmth of them.

You smiled to yourself as the familiar electricity flooded your veins and leaked to your core. It may have been the first time, but every time since had only been… better. Impossibly, incredibly better.

Upon your return, you noticed that Dean had found new strength.

“We’re closer than ever to Cas, he’s three days away by the river. We’re almost done! We can go home!” Dean was grinning widely, a spark finally back in his tired eyes.

You smiled, scooping him into a rough embrace. If Dean was happy, you were happy. Benny joined you in the bear hug. You were so ready to be topside again, and now, it was so close you could just taste it.

Your second chance.

With a start, Benny hollered and let go, leaving Dean tense and alert in your arms. Then, he threw you to the side as a beast attacked. Its whole face morphed into a shark-tooth ringed mouth, and you grimaced.

Leviathan. You must’ve been really close to that angel.

You drew your weapon as one engaged you, swung and lopped its head off easily after years of practice, until something glinting and sharp emerged where it should not have been.

You looked down, the blade bloodied and protruding through your chest, through your lungs. Unable to draw a breath, you fell to your knees.

“No!” Both Benny and Dean were yelling, voices echoing through the hostile forest. Black ooze covered them from the slain monsters. You looked up as your assailant withdrew the sizable knife from your back and placed it against your neck. It was another vampire. You looked back to the boys.

“You killed our sister, so now we’re gonna kill yours,” the voice behind you teased in a sing-songy tone. More boots shuffled into your line of view.

Benny looked absolutely broken as he charged, extra teeth bared sharply in defiance. Dean bounded to you, holding your gaze with those emerald green eyes as he expertly dodged the advances of his adversaries.

Once again, your breath was seized and you relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into the comforting depths of that hunter’s eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting…This would finally be the end of the suffering. To oblivion. The warmth from Dean’s soul flooded over you as he got closer, but it was too late.

Your head rolled from your body.

Dean decimated the group of vampires in record time, the rage fully restored and urging his body forward against all odds. Once again, the hunter had become more vicious than any monster in the land. In two days, he would limp to the river and find his angel.

You, however, woke on the other side of Purgatory. Oblivion was not something that would ever come for you. There would never be a release. Despair, overcoming any hope you ever had, creeped its dark tendrils through your entire being and swiped your feet from underneath you. So that’s what happens to monsters who die in monster heaven… they get respawned and zapped to another part. Great. You were stuck in hell, too far away now to reach them in time. One day you would find a way out. You had to. But first, you would have to find the strength. Strength you may never have again. You curled into a ball, mind silent as you gave into the feeling, a single, small tear streaking a thin line from your eye into the dust.

You were alone. Again.

Your second chance gone along with the human and his friends.

This was my second attempt at writing smut and maybe I got carried away??

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0 @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie-supports @thinkinghardhardlythinkingogblog@icecream-and-gadreel

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

#spndarkbingo #2020-21 #beacon to beasts #dean x reader #benny x reader #dean x reader x benny #smut #read the warnings #chris writes sometimes #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn smut #dean smut #benny smut #dean winchester x you #benny lafitte

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tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

#WaynesAngel

The Maribat AU by @ozmav and @maribat-archive is all I can think about atm, so enjoy more of this

Summary- After Grayson posts a video on the wrong twitter, Damian feels like he should lose his social media privileges, and possibly his hand.

Part 1

Part 4

Part 5 (HERE)

This was a impusle write as I was trapped in a car for over 50 hours in three days. Please do not ask for another chapter.

_________________________________________

Wayne’s Angel @FashionInGotham

Why is it weird that I’ve never met a Bat before? It’s not like Damian or the Waynes have ever seen Ladybug or Chat Noir or the Miraculous Team in Paris, and they’ve been in Paris a lot more than I’ve been in Gotham #confusion #AMERICAEXPLAIN

Jason Todd Lives @BestTodd

@FashionInGotham Whomst the Fuck is Ladybug and Chat Noir?? Also, Miraculous Team Sounds like some magical girl anime Cass watches

Call me Cass @CainYouBelieve

@FashionInGotham @BestTodd 🖕🏼

Wayne’s Angel @FashionInGotham

@FashionInGotham @BestTodd @CainYouBelieve They’re the Paris superheroes, they showed up almost five years ago to fight the little bitch of a villain, Hawkmoth and his stupid peacock assistant, Mayra.

Dick Grayson @AFlyingGrayson

@FashionInGotham @BestTodd @CainYouBelieve @ FashionInGotham WHAT?! Paris has heroes??

Wayne’s Angel @FasionInGotham

@FashionInGotham @BestTodd @CainYouBelieve @ FashionInGotham @AFlyingGrayson Oh yeah, I forgot that the mayor was trying to keep it a secret from the rest of the world #MyB But yeah Ladybug and Chat Noir have been there the longest but there’s also Abeille, Viperion, Ryuko, Pegasus, King Monkey, Bunnyx, and Badulf

Chloe raised an eyebrow at her friend as she saw the tweet thread that was quickly going viral, “You realize my dad is going to flip about this.”

“He deserves it,” Adrian pipped up from where he was painstakingly painting Kagami’s nails a deep burgundy.

The other teen heroes hummed in agreement as Chloe huffed.

“Well Yeah, but I was hoping to do it with a little extra flair than a twitter thread.”

Alix snorted as she finished up Kim’s banana yellow toes, drawing a crude smiley face on his big toe with bright blue, “She’s dating the youngest kid of the most influential family in the world and has like 100 million followers. Plus she called Hawkmoth a little bitch and it already has 90k likes. I call that flair.”

It was a surprise when Nathanial had had his freak out during his second battle, against a Crimson Peacock event no less, and had called her Lady Marinette in front of the other temporary heroes, but had lead to many nights like the one they were having now. Onesies of each other’s heroes’ identities donned as they lounged around Chloe’s room, simply enjoying each other’s company after a long patrol. Chloe and Adrian had demanded they have a spa night, which is why everyone was either giving or receiving mani-pedis while they waited for their face masks to finish. It was nice, to have so much support outside of the masks, especially as they entered their final year in Lychee.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “It’s only 98 million, Alix, and plus I figured four months after I made this account was long enough to make the slip up seem genuine. We need to catch Hawkmoth soon, or else this entire mess will get a lot more complex.”

They all frowned as they realized the truth behind her words. They were all facing hard decisions if they couldn’t pin the man down, not like they hadn’t already sacrificed so much to continue the battle. Max had already turned down graduating early and a full ride to MIT, citing his desire to graduate with his friends before moving across the globe. Luka had been invited to tour with Jagged, only to politely decline, telling the pouting rockstar that he wanted to do some soul finding first. Kim had given up a summer training camp with the French Olympic team. Alix had given up going on an expedition with her dad and brother, missing out on the chance to explore the dunes of Egypt. Marinette had turned down three internships at this point, one from Audrey Bourgeois, One from Raven Baxter, and lastly and most devastatingly, one from Edna Mode.

They needed to end this, before the overwhelming feeling of their futures slipping right between their fingers got them akumatized.

Tim Drake Offical @TJDrake

Seeing the demon spawn panic when he realized @FasionInGotham isn’t any safer from maniacs in Paris then she is in Gotham is strangely endearing and vaguely terrifying #whyismyfamilylikethis

Duke of Hazard @DoneWithTheRich

@TJDrake Like you and Barb aren’t frantically searching for anything you can find on the Miraculous Team and these weird-ass butterfly dude.

Call me Cass @CainYouBelieve

@TJDrake @DoneWithTheRich Bugout.com, It’s in French but informative.

Tim Drake Offical @TJDrake

@TJDrake @DoneWithTheRich @CainYouBelieve How did you find this before Barbs and me????

Call me Cass @CainYouBelieve

@TJDrake @DoneWithTheRich @CainYouBelieve @TJDrake Alfred.

The news swept up the story in an instant and suddenly the whole world was demanding to know what the Parisian Mayor had been thinking and why the Justice League hadn’t been involved.

It wasn’t long until the entire Miraculous Team was seated in front of the Louvre. Countless new agencies from around the world were present, eager to hear the story of the sickeningly young-looking heroes, but the one video that received the most views was the shaky camera videos that were uploaded to Marinette’s Twitter, as they shortened the two-hour-long Press conference into manageable clips that highlighted the most important points.

Wayne’s Angel @FasionInGotham

Full Lineup, Damn. Haven’t seen that since the last time we had a Scarlet Moth incident. For those who need context, this is like seeing the entire founding Justice League together to us Parisians.

The clip attached showed A panning shot as they introduced all of the heroes. Ladybug and Chat Noir sat in the center of the long table flanked by Vipirion, plucking his lyre absentmindedly, Abeille, glaring down her nose at the reporters, a beaming King Monkey waving excitedly, and an eerie serious Bunnyx sitting as still as a statue to their right, on their left was fierce-looking Ryuko looking ready to slice anyone who got too close, the calculating Pegasus, mumbling under his breath, and lastly the timid Badulf, struggling to keep his red bangs out of his eyes.

Wayne’s Angel @FasionInGotham

LMAO RYUKO #DRAGONQUEENSLAY

Don’t question Paris’ Heroes like that, they’re feisty.

The clip showed a British reporter demanding to know why the heroes hadn’t contacted the Justice League previously to gain their assistance in taking down the dangerous threat that was Hawkmoth.

You could Ladybug’s eye twitch at the condescending question, but before she could answer Ryuko leaned forward to the mic situated in front of her with a glint in her eyes.

“I apologize for my English,” She started, “I am not as versed in the language as some of my teammates. To answer your question on why we haven’t had the League’s help is because Green Lantern is a fuck.”

Silence filled the gathering before Chat, King Money and Bunnyx burst into giggles, the rest of the heroes struggling to keep a straight face. The media was staring at them dumbfounded until Ladybug finally leaned forward.

“I’m sorry for the outburst,” She started, lips still trying to twitch upwards, “But as Ryuko said we did ask for help. About five months into our heroship Chat and I received an answer from the League after trying for three months to contact them. The ‘help’ came in the form of Green Lantern coming and assessing the situation. Unfortunately for us, Hawkmoth is smart and when the neon green monstrosity of a hero flew in he laid low instead of attacking when a Leaguer was present. Without an attack and no physical damage present as one of my powers allows me to restore all damage done to Paris or its citizens, He decided we were powered children that were trying to get in the spotlight.”

“Getting lectured on wasting the League’s time and resources before he flew off really put a damper on us asking again,” Chat added in, toxic green eyes narrowed and laser-focused on the reporter, “So we handled it ourselves, gaining our own allies as we needed them. But please continue telling us how the League could have helped sooner if only we had asked for help.”

Clip after clip, ten of them total were uploaded into the thread. Explaining the worst battle the heroes had ever faced, the strength of their enemy, what the villain and his assistance could and would do, the worst attacks, the easiest wins, the ways that Ladybug and Chat chose their allies, but the last two clips seemed to get the largest reaction out of the audience, both at the press conference and the internet.

Wayne’s Angel @FashionInGotham

Not gonna lie, seeing my tormentors get put on blast by all of the Heroes is very vindictive #IsthatMean? #MaybeSo

“You’ve seemed to have shifted your support away from one local blog, to another over any official news agency,” One of the nicer reporters at the events said, “Is there a particular reason? And why the sudden shift two years ago?”

Chat’s face was strangely pinched, “Oh you mean why we switched from giving exclusives to the LadyBlog to BugOut? It’s quite simple. We go to the news sources we trust to take the information we are willing to give without worrying about ratings as their top priority. We tried going to Nadja Chamack at first, the local news anchor that we all hold a great deal of respect for, but the producers threatened her to get a ‘highly-rated’ interview. It led to her asking questions Ladybug and I thought were counterproductive to the reason we were invited to the interview and was trying to turn us into celebrities instead of allowing us to do the jobs we needed to. It was a similar reason we stopped going to Alya Cesaire, the Ladyblog editor.”

Ladybug took over here, “Miss Cesaire has the ability to be a very good journalist, but as her blog grew in popularity, so did her need for highly viewed content, this caused her to not only start posting more rumors and speculation than anything we’ve ever said but also to stop fact-checking with us things she heard. Even after talking to her about removing the content that was blatantly untrue and was told no due to the high ratings it had received we realized that we simply couldn’t work with her anymore.”

Abeille piped up in a low regal voice that was dripping with venom, “It really didn’t help that when we started interviewing with Aurora Beaureal from BugOut, shortly after my introduction, Miss Cesaire began a smear campaign against her, claiming she was faking her sources and videos publicly on her blog. Luckily we were able to shut that down quickly enough but it didn’t stop Miss. Cesaire from running into battle to distract us, and frankly, harass us for answers even after we told her no. It’s lead to more than one incident where she, other civilians, and even ourselves have been hurt.”

“Either way,” Chat took over again, “We want to support local news sources but only when they are willing to listen to our boundaries and work with us instead of trying to push issues.”

“Does that mean that info we found on the Ladyblog is not to be believed?” Another reporter called out.

“I would take anything after the first post about Lila Rossi with a grain of salt,” Ladybug said, only for King Monkey to snort and lean towards the mic.

“Yeah and if Lila Rossi is mentioned at all in the post just assume everything in that post is fake. Miss. Rossi is a known liar and problem for us.”

“Can you give us an example?”

Ladybug sighed before explaining, “The first time I heard of Miss. Rossi was an interview on the Ladyblog of her claiming to be my best friend. Now I very much value the secrecy I and my team have created for ourselves because it protects our friends and families, but even a lie about knowing me in such a public setting is dangerous because Hawkmoth and Mayra have proven that they aren’t above underhanded tactics to try and get the upper hand in our fights. I went looking for the girl to explain why she can’t say such things for her own safety, only to find her telling a boy that she possessed the Fox Miraculous in a public park. I will admit I called her out in a way that wasn’t very nice but either claim was enough to put her in danger, but both were painting a target on her back and it scared me that someone would do something to impress a boy. After that, she was akumatized for the first time and since then it has gotten even worse despite me apologizing the second I cured the Akuma. Some of her lies are enough to count as Slander if any of the celebrities she lied about knowing saw the posts, but no amount of persuasion seems to get her to stop.”

Wayne’s Angel @FasioninGotham

Watching their powers without the looming threat of an Akuma/Amok is a blessing. They look so cool! #Love #Miraculous

The clip started with the heroes standing in front of the table, grouped differently than before. Off to one side King Monkey, Viperion and Bunnyx stood, Viperion holding a microphone.

“While we would love to an demonstrate our powers as requested,” He explained, “Our powers are not really good for demonstrations. Mine is known as Second Chance.”

He raised his hand and pulled the slider across his bracelet as he named it, a flash of pale teal light admitting from it, “When activated like I just did, it allows me to return to the point of activation at any time before I detransform in fifteen minutes as many times as I wish with only myself remembering the previous changes I have made.”

Without even acknowledging the startled whispers from the crowd, he handed the microphone to King Monkey, who offered a cheeky smile.

“So my power is called Uproar. It allows me to create a toy-like object that when it comes into contact with someone causes all of their abilities to malfunction.”

He goes to pull his staff from where it was strapped to his back only for Vipirion to stop him. A silent exchange passed between the pair before the taller hero nodded and handed the microphone off to Bunnyx.

“Viperion and I have a similar reason for our powers being hard to show off, only his is a little more versatile,” She started in a voice devoid of any emotion, swinging her pocket watch slightly, “I have the power Burrow. It allows me, and anyone I chose to take with me, access to a pocket dimension where I can travel to any point in time or space that I chose, past, present, or future. While you might see me fight during any battle I can make it to, my power is a last-ditch effort, as I would have to travel back in time to change the past if I do this assume the future is unsavable.”

The hush that falls over the crowd was quickly broken by Ryuko tapping her group’s microphone to draw attention to the opposite side of the stage where she stood with Abeille, Badulf, Pegasus, Chat, and Ladybug.

“I believe it’s best to not dwell on any one of our powers,” She told them, “Our powers are scary and knowing that they can be taken from us at any time and used for nefarious purposes keep all of us up at night, but we ask you to trust us to use them only for good.”

She waited a moment for the crowd o calm down before giving her own explanation, “My ability is known as the Three Dragons, the Water Dragon, the Wind Dragon, and the Lightning Dragon.”

She handed off the microphone to Pegasus, before calling forth the Wind Dragon and bursting into a group of clouds that swiftly blew around the stage before traveling over to the Louvre Pyramid and watching as the heroine reformed at the top, offering a small wave before the call for Water Dragon could be heard and a large dome of water formed over the entire courtyard.

Before she could call for her last form the snake hero grabbed the microphone, “Lightning Dragon is a bad idea, Ryuko.”

The heroine didn’t even question him, instead, vaulting off of the pyramid, the crowed gasped only for her to effortlessly land next to Bunnyx in a crouch, brushing herself off as she rose and turned her gaze to the horse miraculous user, who quickly explained his power before calling forth Voyage.

His cry caused blue light to circle his arm and he sent it towards the top of the still-present water dome, with a controlled flick of his arm.

The heroes didn’t even blink as the crowd filled with cries as the Eiffel Tower fell through the portal, Ladybug’s yoyo whipping out to direct it’s decent, the entire courtyard shaking as the 10k ton structure landed.

“I’m up next!” Chat called out with a large grin, while the reporters didn’t seem to know if they should pay attention to the moved monument or the hero. His explanation was short since they were many videos of him using it but that didn’t stop the international reporters from screaming as Cataclysm swirled around his hand eating away at the Eiffel Tower, leaving a pile of rust in the crater

“Is-Is this much property damage necessary?”

Abeille shrugged, “No, but once we get to Ladybug, it’ll make more sense. Either way my turn.”

An unpleasant chill went up the world’s spine as she demonstrated how she could freeze all voluntary movement of her target on Chat Noir, who was still as a statue the second her stinger touched him.

Ladybug quickly took the mic and began explaining her powers. The world watched in amazement at her pulling a red and black spotted camera from thin air before she launched it into the air with a cheer of “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Suddenly a glowing swarm of ladybugs formed and tore through the air, covering Chat Noir, releasing from Venom, before healing the crater and rust from nearby, dissolving the water dome in the same instance.

If there hadn’t been so many people present the world wouldn’t have believed that so much damage was just repaired in the span of ten seconds, but staring at the unimpressed Parisians around them the world finally seemed to grasp the reality of the situation.

These children were past what one would even expect from metas, from aliens and superhumans like they had seen around the world already. These were heroes that were harnessing the very forces that made up the universe and fighting them at the same time. Bunnyx wasn’t exaggerating when she mentioned that sometimes there would be apocalyptic endings to their fights.

Instead of letting the knowledge stew Badulf step forwarded, twisting the microphone as he explained his power of illusions for the reporters.

With a short tune on his flute suddenly the group of heroes was gone, All that remained was a Sign thanking them all for coming. Even after the illusion faded the heroes were nowhere to be found, having used the final demonstration as the perfect cover to sneak away so that no one could follow them.

Wayne’s Angel @FasionInGotham

I must say I was not expecting such an outpour of love for all of Our heroes but damn am I pleased by it. Ladybug is our big name but the others are honestly way underloved in Paris, especially Chat who’s been there since the beginning. #MiraculousTeam

Quick Poll Who’s your favorite, everyone? Mine’s Chat Noir

Ryuko (19%)

Abeille (12%)

Ladybug (14%)

Bunnyx (8%)

Viperion (12%)

Chat Noir (15%)

Pegasus (5%)

King Monkey (5%)

Badulf (10%)

Call me Cass @CainYouBelieve

@FashionInGotham I like Badulf, he’s the newest correct?

Wayne’s Angel @FashionInGotham

@FashionInGotham @CainYouBelieve Yup! He’s only been around for four months, but he’s a pretty great fox!

Tim Drake Official @TJDrake

Fun Fact: I just heard Alfred swear for the first time while watching the press conference and it was to call Hawkmoth and Mayra an arsehole FLOB and his fucking Slag.

Never been more terrified,

Based on the faces around me neither has any of the other Waynes #AlfredisTerrifying

Wayne’s Angel @FashionInGotham

Why am I the go to person for everything Mircualous Team? BugOut.com is a great source if you want more info.

Still Queen Bee @BuzzBuzz

@FashionInGotham Probably cause you're most famous Parsian? Or cause you were a miraculous user once?

Jason Todd Lives@BestTodd

@FashionInGotham @BuzzBuzz IM SORRY?? DID YOU JUST SAY MARIGOLD HAD ONE OF THOSE MAGIC FUCKING GEMS???

Wayne's Angel @FasionInGotham

@FashionInGotham @BuzzBuzz @BestTodd That didn't come up in the conference did it? A few of the old users of miraculous got outed as heros so LB doesn't call on them anymore, but keeps tabs on them since HM and Mayra will try and emotionally malipulate them into getting akumatized. A few of us bonded over it.

Still Queen Bee @BuzzBuzz

@FashionInGotham @BuzzBuzz @BestTodd @FashionInGotham Its common knowledge in Paris, Mari, me and our other friend @NotaModel all had miraculous at one point, but HawkBitch found out so we can't ever use a miraculous again sadly. I had the Bee, Mari had the Mouse and Ari had the Snake

Dick Grayson @AFlyingGrayson

Why is Damian staring at a wall and not responding? What broke him? #Help???

Dick Grayson @AFlyingGrayson

@AFlyingGrayson Nevermind #HecouldnthaveanormalGF? #HolyShitMari

Wayne's Angel @FasionInGotham

So I can no longer say I've never seen a Bat before, just saw Signal and Red Robin, I think???

Gonna be real tho, I was expecting to see them in Gotham, NOT PARIS #wtf #Whyaretheyhere????

Marinette had barely sent the tweet before her phone was ringing.

"Are you being serious?" Adrian asked, in lieu of a greeting, "At least two of the Batfam is here?"

"Yeah," She whispered a bit numbly, eyes still focused on the roof she had watched them disappear from mere moments ago. It was far enough away that if she had been a normal human she wouldn't have heard them, but she wasn't a normal human, "Hey Adrian, Don't tell the team what I'm about to say, okay?"

"Are you okay, bugaboo?"

"Questionable," She didn't even bother rebuking the nickname, "I think I might be dating a Bat."

______________________________________

Taglist: @kceedraws @northernbluetongue @starry-bi-sky @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @lexysama @vincentvangoose @theatreandcomicfreak @vinerlover @calvin1394 @interobanginyourmom @imanerddealwith @aarushi-03 @rikku052 @fantasticfourintraining @clumsy-owl-4178 @two-faced-biatch @celestiacq @vgirl-10123 @peculiarlylostdreamer @tinybrie @treebrosha @sam-spectra @zalladane @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @7-sage-7 @blue-peach14 @nataladriana9 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @xxmadamjinxx @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @i-identify-as-a-mango @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay @vixen-uchiha @face-of-lazyness @lunar-wolf-warrior @derpingrainbow @drama-queen-supreme @vivilakitty @mystery-5-5 @synnesstra @ijustwannabecanadian @sharksharkbb @lysslovsanime @zazzlejazzle @corabeth11 @ur-average-reader @virgil-is-a-cutie @paradoxal-occurance @dur55 @this-is-vander @cowardlygaydinosaur @phantomneow12 @numbuh-7-knd @slytherinhquinn @celerystick045 @silvergold-swirl @dzcile @lordsmeldingtonthethird @asabella1224 @miraculous-simmer7 @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @kuhakuanon @st0rmy-w1th1n @littleredrobinhoodlum @todaylillypads @screechingflapbiscuitpeach @a-complete-fool @urbanpineapplefarmer @woodland-queer @miraculousl4dybug @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @imanerddealwith @seraphichana @literalfantrash @zebrabaker @captainmac6

264 notes · View notes

blue-bird-kny · 4 years

Note

This is my first time requesting, sorry if it’s a bit unorganized. I’d like to request a soulmate AU in which you can taste whatever your soulmate is eating with Nemi. If possible, the reader is tired of tasting ohagis so they eat bitter melon to piss him off. This is on your choice to write but if you do, thank you so much!

This request was too cute to pass up so thank you and enjoy!~Amanda (Image creds to artist)

Warning: Language

( 1k+ words)

“Touches and Taste Buds”

Over the years, you’ve learned to hate the taste of red bean paste. It’s not because it isn’t delicious, because it most definitely is, but because your damn soulmate seemed to only enjoy that one flavor. At first, when you began tasting the same things as your soulmate, you thought it was so cool how you both shared the same taste buds. As time passed though, every time your mouth filled with the taste of red bean paste, you wanted to kill whoever was doing this to you.

They ate it at all times of day and it was infuriating. Even though they’ve ruined the sweet taste of Ohagi, you’ve always been very patient with them. However patients could only last so long and yours was beginning to wear thin. Sometimes you wondered if others had as much trouble with their soulmates, if they too had such a monotonous eater that drove them crazy.

“I swear once we meet, I’m going to make you eat every damn thing this world has to offer before you eat Ohagi again” you always vowed to yourself. Clearly your soulmate wasn’t aware that other food groups existed. It felt as though they rarely ate anything else

It’s been a very long, strenuous day of training with Gyomei. He’d taken you under his guidance in order to make you a better demon slayer, but he was one tough mentor. The demon slayer headquarters had a mess hall of sorts, a place where demon slayers who weren’t on call could come and eat freely. “I’m so hungry I could eat their kitchen clean” you rubbed your growling stomach as you filled your plate with the various foods they had spread out.

You decided to sit alone; you weren’t necessarily a social person as is, but especially now all you needed was a nice, warm meal. You raised the spoonful to your lips, mouth watering, “nothing could ruin this”.

You thought too quickly because just as the spoon reached your mouth, the familiar taste of Ohagi filled your taste buds. You dropped your food on your plate, gagging as the taste seemed to overwhelm your senses. “I’ve had enough! Just who do they think they are!” you bitterly thought as you gathered all your tools of torture and revenge.

You rubbed your hands together evilly as you decided on which food you’d eat first. In front of you neatly lay your means of revenge; a cup of vinegar, some bitter melon, and a spicy pepper you’d managed to find.

“Okay let's start small” you grabbed the cup of vinegar, bringing it up to your lips almost like it was a shot. You squirmed as its sour taste crawled over your skin and burned your throat. It was gross, you couldn't deny that, but if somewhere in this world your soulmate was tasting it too, it was worth it.

Next, you picked up a slice of the bitter melon. You griminced as you fiddled with the food; its crunchy outside contrasting its soft, water-like inside. “In the name of revenge” you thought as you bit the nasty food. You held onto the table for support as you swallowed, breathing deeply to compose yourself. There was some sort of commotion happening some tables behind you, but you ignored it, assuming it was some group of idiots messing around.

Finally you reached the spicy pepper. You were actually less nervous about this one because, unlike your soulmate, you ate a variety of food, especially spicy food. You placed the peppers tip between your teeth, chomping down on the vegetable. You marveled at the crunch it made as you chewed, the heat already beginning to spread over your tongue and lips, causing an almost numbing sensation.

“What the hell is wrong with that bitch?!” someone yelled behind you. You turned to find the wind Hashira, his cheeks red and his tongue hanging outside of his mouth. “What's his problem?” you thought as you watched the angry man throw a fit. Your mouth became dry as you noticed something on the floor; when Sanemi had stood up, he knocked his plate of food on the floor, balls of Ohangi scattered everywhere.

“Holy Shit, it's you” the words slipped from your mouth before you could even stop them. Sanemi noticed your blant starring and growled “The fuck you looking at!”. You stood on quivering legs, gently picking up your cup of water as you walked to the infuriated man. He was almost frightening like this, eyes crazed and fuming, not to mention he was taller than you.

“Here you go, this should help with the spice” you lifted the cup as an offering, almost as an apology. He snached it without a word, downing the whole thing in a few hard gulps. He slammed the now empty cup on the table, breaking it. All eyes fell on you two, him staring at you murderously and you staring right back at him defiantly. “I will fucking kill you all” he threatened the room, causing everyone to go back to their meals. “Hey!” you yelled as he pulled you by your collar outside where there were less people, “You’re coming with me” his voice was low and tense.

Outside he released you, staring down at you “You must be the idiot that did that to me so what the hell’s your problem?” he crossed his arms over his chest, fully expecting an answer. “Excuse me I’m not an idiot, I’m your soulmate. And what the hell is YOUR problem, always eating Ohagi. The taste alone makes me want to gag!” you retorted.

“You shit-head! You did all this just because I eat Ohagi? Unbelievable”

“You know what I’ve had a long day and you already ruined my dinner, I’m leaving” you didn’t want to deal with his bullshit tonight, so you left. “Fuck this!” he yelled and walked in the opposite direction. His ears were red and his heart was racing, but it wasn’t from the spicy pepper.

That night, Sanemi couldn’t sleep. Every ounce of him hated to admit it, but you did things to him. He wasn’t stupid; he knows what it means when someone causes your heart to beat quickly. It was different from when he was in battle, you didn’t cause his heart to beat like that, but instead you caused it to soar. Nobody has ever stood up to him like that, with such power and determination; it was hot.

The next day, you woke up staved. Leaving your room, you tried to get some food before there were too many people. Inside, you made your way to get food only to be stopped by a rough hand. “Excuse me-” you started as you saw Sanemi standing in front of you, it was too early for his bullshit. “Here” he rushed, shoving a plate of food in your face. Surprisingly it held all your favorites, “I remember tasting this so I figured that's what you ate” he muttered, his face was turned away from yours but you knew he was blushing. You smiled, gratefully accepting the plate “Thank You”.

“Whatever” he turned to leave but you stopped him, pulling lightly on his haori. “I can’t eat all this food by myself you know” you said, silently urging him to stay. He thought for a second, would it be so bad? He decided it wouldn’t and sat down at the nearest table, he gestured for you to sit “Well?”. You couldn’t help but laugh at his abrasiveness, in a way, it was cute. He grabbed a stem of grapes off your plate, popping them into his mouth one by one.

You two sat there talking for a while, the room empty and food long gone. Sanemi knew it was unlike himself to be so complacent and open with another person, but you made him feel comfortable and at ease; it was nice. “You know you’ve really ruined Ohagi for me” you commented, the two of you needed to get going, you both had jobs to do after all. “Well you do know how soulmates get rid of their taste bud connection, right? He smirked. Your breath was caught in your throat as he moved closer to you, his arm gripped your waist as he towered over you. “It happens when their tongues touch” he whispered teasingly. Warmth spreads over your cheeks and down your neck, your breathing sped up at this intimate position. Regaining your senses, you pushed his face away in embarrassment, “Sanemi you idiot!” you called walking away. Sanemi laughed as he knew you didn’t mean it. He also knew you two would meet again. After all, you hated the taste of Ohagi and he happened to have a strong craving for the both of you.

Main Masterlist

Idk why but the idea that there is a cafeteria in the demon slayers HQ is so funny to me, I had to include it. Anyways, I hope you all liked it, please read my other works if you did. Stay safe~Amanda

#kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #sanemi x reader #shinaguzawa sanemi #sanemi #kny sanemi #kny writing

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Audio

Playlist Feels

Part 1: Crying In The Club

Member: Juyeon (ft. Hyunjae/changmin????)

Genre: idk man. angst/chill/slice of life/fluff????? irdk

A/N: this was requested. no, i’m not like, posting/asking openly for requests BUT if you happen to see this, then you’re in luck. the only reason why i haven’t opened for requests is because i don’t have a large pool of followers, so if you like my style of writing and you have faith in me (because i’m not the greatest writer out there), feel free to drop me a dm/ask. i’m currently writing for tbz/nct/ateez/maybe txt idk, if you’re really interested, we can work something out :D

A/N part 2: i’m a very emotional (?) person when it comes to writing (otherwise i’m a stone cold bitch lol), so when i was asked if i could write a part 2 to this juyeon piece, i was quite surprised. the first reason being: i didn’t think the request would be for this particular piece of work for juyeon, because it got like 8 notes at the point of time i got the ask. the second reason is that i wrote the first part for me to release my feelings. whatever i wrote in the first part mirrors my feelings/situation in real life (yeah, i may or may not be worried about an ex-boyfriend stalking me welp, and yeah i may or may not have caught feelings for someone i know who stays in my dorm. unfortunately, it’s only in my imagination that he comes to my rescue, ha.). i just found it very mysterious (?) and strange about all these coincidences and it also made me really happy that people enjoy reading what i write :D

to the person who requested this, i hope you won’t be disappointed!

“what?” your friend nearly screams in your face. thank god the drinking crowd doesn’t come in until around 10pm, else the whole bar would be looking at the both of you. “like-- the lee juyeon? the one that’s got a fucking billion girls on his tail? and he kissed you?”

you look up over the rim of your spectacles and the edge of your laptop screen, and your friend completely loses it at the sight of your face that was void of emotion.

“the hell’s wrong with you?! didn’t you confess to the man like, a month ago? now, he’s god done kissed you, stayed over in your room when your crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend’s following you, and you have no feelings or opinion to account for that?”

your eyes were half-hooded from the cider, though not nearly enough to even make you tipsy, it was enough to make your eyelids droop a little lower than if you were wide awake.

“just because i liked him, doesn’t mean i need to warrant him any more attention. i’m too tired of this stuff anyway, especially with what happened to the relationship with my crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend,” you say with a lack of affection, only looking back to your laptop screen and resuming your furious typing. your friend has her hands on both sides of her face, nearly squishing all her features while she stares wide-eyed at you.

it felt so long ago that juyeon kissed you for the sake of scaring your stalker away, when it was merely a week ago. since then, you prayed every day not to run into juyeon or your stalker.

thank god you’ve seen neither. your prayers have been heard.

“whatever happened with your crazy ex-boyfriend shouldn’t have anything to do with whatever you want to do with your feelings now. are you really going to let him ruin your chances of being with freakin’ lee juyeon?”

“easy for you to say, you weren’t the one being threatened and stalked,” you retorted, not even bothering to look at her. you were lucky your friend knew the whole story, because any other person would’ve shut you down for being so rude and blunt. truth was, she knew you were emotionally exhausted, to the point where you were emotionally unavailable. even if lee juyeon really had a thing for you, it was going to take a lot of effort to encourage you to try building something out of a relationship with one of the school’s most popular boys.

you hear her sigh before finishing her own bottle of cider.

“i just want my feelings for juyeon to go away. i don’t want anything to do with the man, not when he’s got so many girls after him, not when i obviously don’t stand a chance at winning him over even if i was interested.”

your friend glares at you, with the words “really?” printed into her forehead.

“i’m not even gonna bother anymore. you do what you want with juyeon,” you smile at her final announcement to leave the case. you watch with softer eyes, your arms perched on the table and your chin resting on your clasped hands while she packed her stuff. “but mark my words, if it’s anything i know, lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people.”

you roll your eyes, pulling away from the table as she picks up her bag.

“haven’t we established that he only did it because i was being followed--”

“my girl, you don’t get a say in this. you’re too emotionally occupied... or shut down, to see what’s really happening. but from what my cousin tells me, juyeon’s not the kind to offer such intimate acts to people he doesn’t know well. that, you can trust my cousin.”

you bare your teeth in disgust at her final blow. if she hadn’t reminded you, you would’ve forgotten that changmin, who was part of juyeon’s popular boy clique, was a cousin of hers.

“i gotta bolt, you have fun and please don’t go back too late. i doubt juyeon’s going to magically appear again at one thirty in the morning to save your ass,” she looks back over her shoulder and raises a brow at you. nodding your head gently, you wave her off.

you mirror your friend’s actions from before and press your hands to the sides of your face, your fingers pressing against your temple. you shut your eyes gently, listening to the soft ‘clink clanks’ from the counter near the kitchen, and the soft shuffle and distant talking from other students in the bar.

“lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people”

you shake yourself out of it, drinking some water before resuming your work on your laptop. whatever your friend said about you being emotionally unavailable was true, but you had no clue how to get over it, and frankly, even if you did know how, it was going to take a lot of courage and a lot of patience.

you work on your stuff for about an hour, making a deal with yourself to head back to your room before midnight while the bar would be at its busiest. you thank the student staff who recognised you from the previous week, pulling out your phone from your pocket and empty-mindedly scrolling through your social media.

then, someone calls out to you.

instantly, all the blood rushes from every part of your body and into your chest. that voice... there was no way you were ever going to forget it.

your grip on your phone gets tighter, and your heart begins to race. your mind screams ‘run’ but your body reacts exactly like how every dumb white girl acts in a horror movie.

“i was wondering where you’ve been. i didn’t think you’d be back here after... well, last week,” you hear him scoff, and the sound of his shoes against the floor translates into a smaller gap between the two of you. “smart move, i must say. big reverse-psyche move right there.”

your breathing gets heavier, and your eyes were no longer tired from the alcohol. the fact that he was standing right behind you was making you feel trapped, and even though you could’ve taken off in any direction, the memory of what he did completely rendered your ability to move, useless.

“i don’t want to see you again, please. i stand by what i said last year, i’ll ruin your fucking life if i see you again.”

you take a step forward, but he grabs your arm from behind, harshly pulling you around so you were facing him.

nothing about him changed. his facial features, his height, his hair might’ve grown a little longer, but the look that you stole your will to love was still in his eyes. you wince as you try to pull away, but he doesn’t budge.

“ruin my life?” he smirks, and it makes you want to slap him across the face. “sure, but not after i ruin yours too.”

you felt your gut twisting like crazy inside of you, and your legs were losing their energy to even let you stand. you wince at his tightening grip on your forearm, and all you wanted to do was to kick him in the nuts, but you just couldn’t move.

“you’ve already ruined mine...” you quietly inform, remembering the feeling of being completely worthless, completely destroyed by him. “why are you doing this? you’ve already ruined my life, what benefit do you get from it?”

“oh?” his eyes widen, and a smug look pulls up on his face. “what about that kiss in the lift last week? didn’t he sleep over as well? i was there till four am, and he never left the building. i thought you’ve already moved on.”

you grit your teeth as both anger and fear runs through your blood.

you open your mouth, ready to hurl a string of vulgarities at him and protest against him being the world’s worst person, but someone beats you to it.

“pretty sure she already did, man.”

the psycho looks up from you and looks over your head, the smug smile completely wiped away and was replaced with a look of despise and anger.

you shut your eyes tightly, sucking your lips in between your teeth as you tilt your head like you were in pain.

it was hyunjae’s voice, and there was an almost close to zero possibility that he wasn’t with juyeon.

“mind letting my girl go?”

there it was.

you frown to yourself at juyeon’s words, still being held in an awkward position while you faced the psycho’s chest, and his eyes still glued to the two boys behind you.

“are you deaf or do you not understand simple instructions?” you finally see hyunjae reach your footing, and hyunjae lays a hand on the psycho’s grip on you. the psycho only lets go because he couldn’t read hyunjae.

you shift away quickly, rubbing your arm where his grip on you was marked with reddening lines. you back away and bump into juyeon, who only stretched out his arm in front of you, pushing you backwards behind him.

“did he hurt you?” juyeon turns to the side, only showing you his side profile.

“no...” you trail off, still rubbing your arm. the lines turn into light bruises, and you can only tell yourself that you were going to wear long-sleeved tops until they healed.

juyeon turns back to hyunjae, who now had his arm pressed against the psycho’s chest. for a moment, the psycho looked like he was ready to eat you like a lion hunting its prey, and the only things in his way were hyunjae and juyeon.

“go back to the dorms. i’ll come check up on you afterwards,” juyeon instructs. you watch as he takes large steps towards hyunjae and the psycho. you were already backing off, but his eyes never leave you while juyeon and hyunjae try to talk him out of being crazy.

your view of the psycho was almost completely obstructed by juyeon, and hyunjae was talking to him by his side. all of a sudden, the psycho lunges forward, pushing past juyeon and towards you. the sight causes you to jerk backwards and stumble to turn and run.

hyunjae grabs him by the arm while juyeon’s first instinct was to run back to your side, and before you knew it, juyeon has fingers intertwined with the collar of the psycho’s shirt, his fists balled up and their faces inches away from one another.

hyunjae watches on from a short distance away, hands on his hips as he scans the situation.

“does she look like she still belongs to you? does she look like she’s got your name plastered to her forehead? last i checked, i was the one who kissed her and spent the night with her, not you,” juyeon’s voice was low, and strangely calm. you wonder if he’s truly ever lost his temper at anybody. “oh, i forgot. you know, right?”

you were backed up enough to see the look on your stalker’s face, which was now contorted into an ugly mess of distaste, anger and disgust.

“after all we went through, you take one year to get over it? so quickly?” your stalker scoffs, loud enough for you to hear, loud enough to push all the wrong buttons.

juyeon shoves him backwards and pushes him so hard that he falls to the floor. before he could get up, juyeon has his foot on his chest, weighing him down.

“you really need to think twice about what you do around here. not only did you choose to be a crazy, psychotic stalker in a public area, but you just had to choose the one corner with a fully functioning CCTV.”

your stalker, who was on the ground, looks up and around the area, and you could see the intensity of panic that filled him the moment he saw the blinking red dot on the camera mounted to the corner where the ceiling met the wall.

“and unlike you, i’m not dumb enough to pick a fight with you,” juyeon retracts his legs and exchanged quick glances with hyunjae. “you can wait for your letter of expulsion to come in your letter box wherever you’re staying in school. and you better believe that if i see you anywhere near her, i’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life locked up behind bars.”

hyunjae turns and looks at you, allowing juyeon to finish his statement. he pats him on the shoulder, telling him to leave him alone. after a few moments of intense glaring between the psycho and juyeon, he finally backs away and follows behind hyunjae as they approach you.

you were back in your room, rocking back and forth with your rear mounted to the floor. hyunjae was on the phone telling the other boys that he and juyeon were sitting out from tonight’s drink session because ‘juyeon wasn’t feeling well’, while juyeon was sitting opposite you, watching you spiral into your own hole of thoughts and despair.

“they’re not gonna buy the excuse, but they let us off the hook,” hyunjae locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket, crossing his arms across his chest. juyeon nods at hyunjae, and the older boy takes his leave.

he shuffles nearer to you upon the door shutting, his legs on either sides of your hips and his feet under your bed. you were nearly leaning on it, with your knees hugged tightly against your chest. you were stuck between him and your bed, but who even cared anymore?

your vision was zoning out, but you feel him trying to take your arm when he notices the light bruises on your skin.

“i’m fine,” you muttered sharply, hiding your hand between your stomach and your thighs.

“why do you stay out so late? and alone?” he lowers his head, matching his eye level with yours. “i thought you would’ve learnt your lesson from last week.”

“i didn’t think he was going to circle back and find me at the bar again. i thought he’d scour the whole school looking for me, then give up once he realises i’m hiding from him.”

juyeon pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and runs a hand through his blue hair. “but he knows where you stay.”

“and i thought he’d back off after seeing us--” you straighten yourself to finish the sentence, frustrated that juyeon was interrogating you and speaking the obvious. but then you realise you couldn’t say it without feeling butterflies in your stomach.

damn these feelings.

juyeon raises a cocky brow, though not obvious, but it was easy to notice. a soft smile creeps up on the corners of his lips.

“so you were riding on the hope that he’d buy our skit?” juyeon shuffles forward again, now that you were sitting up straight and that movement created extra space between the two of you. you crane your neck backwards, the lack of distance between his nose and your eyes becoming painfully difficult to ignore.

“i mean...” you look away, annoyed at his ability to turn such a horrible night into one of his little talking games. “if hyunjae or changmin saw it, maybe they’d buy it. i know i would, especially if i didn’t know the situation.”

“changmin?” juyeon was now grinning, his eyes halving into crescents. “all of a sudden, why changmin?”

“i was with a friend earlier tonight at the bar. she’s changmin’s cousin and i know the both of you are close.”

juyeon hums in acknowledgement, now scratching a spot on his cheek.

there was an awkward silence in the air, and you couldn’t hear much besides your heavy breathing, split second flashes of whatever happened just about half an hour ago still running on repeat in your head.

“do you want to know something?”

you look up at him through the corners of your eyes, slightly afraid to look at him all too directly. there was something in his voice that was so alluring, like he was about to tell you a world-class secret.

“do i want to know?” you cautiously returned a question. juyeon chuckles and stretches both his arms forwards, resting his hands on the mattress behind your shoulders. your eyes widen as the change in position further narrows whatever distance you previously had, and if you weren’t already dying at the fact that you were caged between his arms, you were combusting at how close he was to you.

so close, that you could feel his breath on your forehead.

“changmin and hyunjae would totally buy it.”

huh?

“do you want to know why? or are you capable of deciphering ‘why’ yourself?”

oh, god, no. please, no.

“if i said no, could you spare me the information?” you ask, still refusing to look at him. juyeon chuckles again.

time seemed to pass extremely slowly as you fail to react to him removing one of his hands from the bed, now reaching up to your chin and pulling it to face him.

your heart picks up its pace again, and instead of fear that ran through you previously, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that were filling your stomach.

“if you’re about to confess, i’m begging you not to.”

juyeon’s smile disappears, and an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability and pity washes over you. your eyes don’t falter despite looking straight into juyeon’s. your words came out almost like a whisper, and if he wasn’t this close to you, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“why?” he asks quietly.

you feel your eye brow twitch, and your nose turn slightly sour.

oh, no, why do you choose to cry now?

“i can’t afford another heartbreak. i can’t afford feeling like i’m nothing again. not after i chose to give him my time, my heart... my body. only for him to use it against me, only for him to say that nobody will love me because of how depressed i am all the damn time...”

you shake your chin out of juyeon’s fingers, looking away as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes again.

you feel your tears dribble down over your cheeks, and before you could reach up to your face to wipe them away, juyeon beats you to it. but instead of wiping your tears, you found yourself stuck in another kiss.

this time, it wasn’t for show.

there was nobody else around for him to ‘scare off’.

you shut your eyes upon the contact, allowing all the cooped up tears to wash out from the crevices of your lids. juyeon has your cheeks cupped in his large hands that were probably the size of your face.

the touch reminds you of when you first kissed your ex-boyfriend. the feeling of melting chocolate fondue, the feeling of coming home to a warm cup of tea on a cold day--

you hurriedly pull away, panic slowly filling your heart again. “juyeon--”

“you begged me not to confess, but i hope that was enough to show you what i wanted to say.” juyeon interrupts, his thumbs now wiping away the droplets of tears hanging from your jawline and the trails left on your cheeks.

“but i’m never going to be able to act like i’m in a normal relationshi--”

“so be it,” he holds up your face so you had no choice but to look at him. “whoever said i wanted a ‘normal relationship’? it was my choice to choose you, and so it’s my choice to be with you as you are.”

you feel the panic slowly wear away, and his words warm your heart.

“give me time and i’ll prove that you’re the one i want to be with. i know it’s not easy to believe that with all the... girls chasing us around all the time... but i hope you’ll still give me a chance. one month ago, you told me you didn’t want an answer and all you wanted to do was to get it off your chest and get over me. i hope you haven’t succeeded.”

you feel your facial muscles relax at his confession, and the warmth radiating from his hands on your face made you feel so safe, so protected, in a long, long time.

“i haven’t,” you gently shake your head, reaching up to pull his hand away from your face and draw circles on the back of his hand.

juyeon gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen on him. he pulls you into his chest as you exhale all the worries from your heart.

it was definitely going to take a lot of courage and patience, but if juyeon was going to do whatever he said he would, then you couldn’t be any more happier to try.

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #juyeon #lee juyeon #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #angst #drama #tw abuse #tw depression #juyeon fanfic #juyeon imagine #juyeon scenario #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenario #argh #my hearteu dieded

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bnha-mha-imagines · 5 years

Note

Okay, get this: a new lov member who’s really awkward and shy. Everyone thinks she’s just a normal gal but it turns out she’s absolutely out of her mind? /sigh/ I don’t even know anymore 😔 rip. I’m so bad at requesting it should be my new party trick. Anyways, I hope you have a good day and I love your writing!!

Ahh thank you! :) I’m not sure if you wanted this to be cute or disturbing so I went with the latter because nothing I’ve posted so far is dark themed (all my stuff is like, fluff haha)! :0 Let’s get some well rounded writing up in here!

New LOV member who’s secretly insane

Warnings: DARK THEMES that include but are not limited to: Blood, dead animals, disturbing images, cannibalism, death, hearing voices, sadism/masochism, violence, mentions of self-harm etc. etc. You get the picture.

^^^Don’t read if you’re sensitive to similar topics. I went ham on this, yall.

Disclaimer: The reader depicted in this is chronically insane and is an extreme case. This is in no way a depiction of a person with a mental disorder. I don’t want to spread any misinformation, most people with mental disorders are lovely people and are not crazy/dangerous in anyway

Under the cut vvv

Tomura Shigaraki:

Look, he wasn’t a fan of the whole awkward-shy act, but hey, you were pretty hot and you had a quirk that the League definitely needed

So he let you in, figuring he’d just need to have that timid attitude of yours whipped out of you

But OH. It didn’t take long for him to realize you were completely bonkers.

Dabi was giving you shit like he did everyone, and all it took was a poor comment on his part for your usually pleasant expression to contort into one of malice and...joy? The way your face darkened and your eyes swirled with an unhinged gleam…

Maybe you’d be more interesting than he initially thought~ plus, seeing you threaten Dabi was definitely some brownie points in Tomura’s book

At times it gets frustrating because you can get out of hand, and he honestly couldn’t even handle the League WITHOUT another crazy added in the mix

But you were powerful and an important addition to the team, so you were stuck with this sorry lot whether you liked it or not

Kurogiri:

He was a little surprised, but pleasantly so, when Tomura recruited you for the League. You were actually...rather normal compared to the rest of the bunch, but he was far from complaining!

You were also modest and well-mannered, and Kurogiri especially admired that. The rest of the League was full of squabbling hotheads, so you were a breath of fresh air!

At the bar, he’d talk a lot with you seeing as you were one of the calmer villains, but overtime he noticed that certain comments would raise a few red flags.

One day you bring in the mangled body of a cat and...oh.

The way you casually set it on the bar counter and grin at Kurogiri happily while you ask for a kiddy cocktail… all the while your hands were still soaked in its blood.

Tomura’s decision made a bit more sense now. You were completely off your rocker! He treats you pretty much the same as before, but is usually the one who has to reel you in when you start to show your crazy too much.

Dabi:

When you first joined the League, he couldn’t believe it. Was Tomura fucking stupid? How could a shy, pretty thing like you possibly fit in with the baddest villain organization?

Needless to say, he was kind of an asshole to you. He’d make rude comments, blatantly say you didn’t belong here, condescendingly give you names like “princess”

For the most part you would bear it all with a grin, and though he didn’t exactly understand you reaction, he would scoff and roll his eyes. “Weirdo”

One day he happens to strike a particularly strong chord with you, and suddenly you’ve shoved him against a wall, hands wrapped around his throat

You choking him wasn’t what off put him. It was the demented look in your eyes and the lopsided grin overwhelming your face. You were practically begging him to insult you again.

“It feels soooo good when you call me names!” you giggle, fingers squeezing into his neck. “Maybe you can choke me next?!” Your eyes were excited at the sadistic thought.

He shoves you off rather easily after he gets over his initial surprise, rubbing his neck. “Crazy bitch…”

The fact that he didn’t ignite your crazy ass on the spot means you’d gained his respect, if in the slightest. Clearly you’re a better fit to be a villain than he thought. He still picks on you, but significantly less.

Himiko Toga:

She was excited to have another girl! She flocked straight to you and grabbed your sleeve right away!

“Aiiya! You’re so cute, look at you!” She poked your cheeks and you got a little flustered under the attention. She thinks you’re so shy and adorable!!!!

She makes it her mission to become your bestest best friend! But she can’t help but get a little excited from time to time.

“(Y/n), you’re too cute! Please, can I cut you up!? Just a few slices here and there! You’d look ten times cuter if I do!” And she’s grinning.

Her grin completely falters, however, when you agree. “W-What?” she didn’t expect it at all! She was used to getting brushed off.

But no...the crazed look in your eye at the mention of spilled blood… you were practically dripping with insanity.

Kurogiri stopped the both of you before you both had the chance to completely slice each other up, but from that moment on your were pretty much conjoined at the hip.

Crazy cuties flock together

Spinner:

When a cute, shy thing like yourself joined the League, he was a total flustered mess! You were absolutely adorable!

Like Kurogiri, you were a breath of fresh air, a nice change of pace to the usually colorful bunch that he got to hang around with.

You were nice to him, and he always gets embarrassed when you compliment him! So naturally he assumes that you’re the sweetheart of the bunch!

You’re talking, and finally Spinner outright asks you, “How’d you even get roped into villainy?” because it blows his mind such a normie like you are in the League

And, very casually and chipper, you describe how you murdered your family in cold blood. They hadn’t even done anything to upset you. You just wanted to.

“O-Oh.” He honestly didn’t know what to say...but he didn’t really get a chance to speak as you suddenly pull a necklace out from under your shirt. It was a strange looking thing, a shriveled black lump on a string.

“Look! I even carry a piece of them around with me!” His eyes widen, and you just giggle and tuck the petrified piece of corpse jewelry back into your shirt.

Twice:

Needless to say, Twice had some mixed feelings about you when you first joined the League.

“What the hell is such a prude bitch doing in the League?” “Aww how cute! Finally a fresh face! Happy to meet you!”

He’s honestly probably the first to realize you’re absolutely batshit because he’s always half doubting your sincerity

Let’s just say he isn’t surprised when you’re on a mission and you start gnawing and eating at a fresh corpse on the ground

“Wow, that’s fucking bad ass” “Ew!!! That’s disgusting, what the fuck!”

And hearing his voices go back and forth, you just look up, blood smeared across your face, a strange gleam in your eye and you grin!

“Hahaha! Twice, you always say the funniest things!!!”

After the mission he tries to avoid you as much as he can. Though your quirk and tenacity was something the League definitely benefited from, that didn’t mean he wanted to be anywhere near you after the shit he saw that night

You were fucking wild

Mr. Compress

After Shigaraki let you into the League, he was pretty interested in you. You seemed pretty average and you acted like a timid civilian, so what kind of quirk did you have? Surely something must have caught Tomura’s eye that he wasn’t seeing.

So he, being the man of charisma and mystery that he was, made it his secret motive to find out what you were hiding.

He took it upon himself to show you around the hideout as your own personal guide. Not that you were complaining! Compress is so flashy and entertaining that you were actually enjoying your time with him.

Not gonna lie, he was acting a little too charming and over-confident with you, trying to get you to slip up and spill a secret

And spill you did! Though not intentionally. It sort of all happened at once. Compress was moving ahead of you and all of a sudden he was thrown back against the wall.

He hits it with a grunt and slides down to the floor, looking up at you with a stunned expression. What the fuck did he do to merit that?!

But you weren’t even looking at him. No, you were whispering under your breath, staring at the ceiling and grinning like a madman.

“You’re right! That was fun!” you spoke to the empty room, pausing a moment before letting out a loud, crazy laugh. “You always were good at jokes!”

Slowly he rose and moved away from the room where you stood conversing with your imaginary voices.

Telekinesis was a pretty powerful quirk! Though it seemed your perks also came with some hefty flaws… very interesting!

Magne:

Magne was so excited to have another girl in the League! She loved Toga, of course, but at times Magne found her to be a bit...much

So when you first arrived, seemingly normal, she was so ecstatic! She wanted to do all sorts of girl things with you that she couldn’t really do often in the boy-dominated League

You were so cute and timid, she couldn’t help but want to have a girl’s sleepover with you and Toga!

Your true colors started to show, however, during the middle of a truth or dare game. Magne had asked you what your favorite crime to commit was, expecting something calmer like robbery or identity theft

Color her surprised when your face contorts into the craziest, most terrifying look as you narrate a violent murder and proceed to grab a pillow and rip it to shreds with your hands as a ‘demonstration’.

Cute AND violently psycho. She can roll with that.

#lov x reader #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #bnha league of villains #bnha lov #bnha villain #bnha magne #bnha toga #bnha dabi #bnha twice #bnha kurogiri #kurogiri x reader #toga x reader #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #request

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talltree-writes · 4 years

Text

Art History, Philosophy, and Scientific Periodicals // K.NJ

Y/N is a senior in college and works part time at the library near her apartment. RM is the leader of the powerful Wings gang. Despite knowing his dangerous reputation, Y/N can't help but be interested in the sweet man who borrows vastly different books and talks with her for hours.

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, mild angst? (there's a brief fight between reader and her brother), f2l

Pairing: Kim Namjoon/(F)Reader

Warnings: Reference to sexual assault (it doesn't happen, but it's implied it could have), swearing, guns (make an appearance, but they aren't used in the story), fighting

Word Count: 7.2k

Author's Note: Inspired by Close to You by hollyhomburg on Tumblr (I just checked, and I think she might have deleted, so if anyone can find a link, that’d be really cool!). A really cool concept that I obviously enjoyed, haha! Also I intended this to be a little warm-up piece that was maybe 2k, but uhhh, that obviously didn't happen (it was still a bit of a warm up, it was just a warm up that lasted about 2 weeks...)

Photo isn't mine!!

-Kim Namjoon had always intrigued you.

-You had seen him for the first time at the local library you worked at part time, earning a bit of cash to help pay for the last bit of tuition that your scholarship didn’t cover.

-It wasn’t the best location, but it was close to you, you enjoyed most of the people who came, and most of all: you loved books. And, well, the enigma of a man who came in during your shift didn’t hurt

-Namjoon stood out in most ways from the normal visitors.

-For one, he checked out odd combinations of books. Usually, the books were philosophy or art history combined with a scientific periodical, often adding a book on a certain language (it changed every once and awhile), or one on music theory or history.

-Secondly, the man, with his blonde hair, piercings, leather jacket, and copious tattoos were far cries from most of the library’s usual visitors

-Lastly, he always came alone. Most of the regulars at the library brought someone at least occasionally, a child, a wife, a friend, someone. But never Namjoon.

-Curiously, instead of finding what he needed and either occupying one of the couches or arm chairs in the back, or even simply taking it home, he always sat at the table closest to your desk

-After a while of reading, he’d ask you a question or bring up a topic. Sometimes your day, or your classes, sometimes he’d ask what the oddest thing someone had checked out was, or, on particularly slow days, he’d leave his books and come sit on the counter next to you, where you two would chat about your lives or philosophy or mythology or art.

-He checked his books about thirty minutes before your shift would end, flashing you a dimpled grin and tucking his books into the beat up backpack he always had before waving on his way out.

-Now, you weren’t dumb. You knew Namjoon was RM, leader of the Wings, and that you should absolutely be scared of him. He sold drugs, he threatened people, hell, he killed people.

-But he was also Namjoon, the dork who showed up at the times he knew it would be slow (street reps were important), the dimple-cheeked guy who teased you about your love of dramas (before secretly confessing to enjoying a few himself). He was the guy who would help you put returned books away before he left, laugh brightly at your dumb jokes or confused face or ruffle your hair affectionately when you did something cute. He was the guy who made butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart thump wildly.

-So, against all logic, you couldn’t muster up any fear for him.

-However, you did fear your walk home

-Normally, you went unbothered, but that didn’t change the fact that you were walking through a bad area of town at night. You carried a small switchblade and pepper spray just in case.

-One night, everything had been going normally. You had finished closing up the library, waving goodbye to your coworker as you both set off in different directions.

-For the first half, everything seemed normal enough. You stopped at a small shop on your way, grabbing a few essentials that your brother had asked you to get before continuing on your way.

-A few of the street lights were out ahead of you, but you shrugged, it happened sometimes, and would probably be fixed in a few days’ time. Still, you were more cautious as you walked, conscious of the shadowy alleyways along the street.

-You palmed the small blade in your sweatshirt pocket, tensing as the area around you grew darker. Just a few hundred feet, you reassured yourself. Just a bit more and you’d be back in the light, in safety.

-A few feet from returning to the light, you were passing an alley when the shadows started shifting.

-Before you could react, foreign hands reached out to grab you, pulling you towards them. You screamed as loud as you could, but a hand wrapped around your mouth, another pressing something sharp into your side.

-“Shut up, bitch.” A man hissed into your ear.

-You whimpered as he dragged you backwards, the point of what you assumed was a knife digging further in, a silent order to comply. His hot breath in your ear sent spikes of fear through your body, and you felt tears drag down your face.

-The sudden cock of a gun forced both of you to freeze.

-“Let her go. Right. Fucking. Now.” A familiar voice commanded. Your eyes widened when you looked up and saw Namjoon standing at the alleyway entrance.

-The hands on your body shifted, and for a moment you thought he might let you go, but your heart fell when the hand at your mouth just shifted down, grabbing the knife from his other and bringing it to your throat. Your captor arranged your positioning to where you were acting as his unwilling shield, any shot your savior tried would risk your injury.

-You saw Namjoon’s gaze shift slightly to the area just behind you, and you heard another gun cock. “He said let the girl go, asshole.”

-Slowly, the hands around you released and you stumbled away from him, towards Namjoon who already held an arm out to catch you.

-You buried your head in the chest of the familiar man, one of his arms holding him to you comfortingly.

-“L-look, I didn’t know she was your girl. I-I just wanted a little fun. I’m sorry”

-You gulped at his implications, burying yourself impossibly closer to Namjoon.

-The other guy with a gun growled “It’s not fun if she isn’t willing, you piece of shit.”

-“JK, take care of this guy. I don’t want to see him around here any time soon.” You felt the rumbling of his voice through his chest.

-The arm holding his gun lowered, reaching back to shove the weapon in his waistband. He lead you out of the alleyway and back the way you were going. Faintly, you wondered how he knew, but were still too in shock to think too much about it.

-It wasn’t until you were standing outside a well lit shop that your emotions finally hit you.

-Honestly it’s not pretty.

-We’re talking snot, tears, all of it.

-But he just hugs you to his chest and rubs your back, letting you cry away your fear and horror before you got home

-“It’s going to be okay, you’re safe now. I won’t let that happen again.”

-You realized he was whispering soothing things to you and you just gripped his jacket tighter.

-Finally, after you had cried yourself dry, he leads you into the store, nodding once at the owner, and telling you to get some candy

-He left you to choose, always being careful to stay in your sights, and to keep you in his. He wandered to the drinks, grabbing two bottles of water and, after a moment of hesitation, a chocolate milk.

-The two of you met at the counter, you with a bag of assorted mini chocolates and him with his drinks.

-You started to take out your wallet to pay for all of the items (afterall, he saved you, you kinda owed him a lot) but he beat you to it, throwing down a few bills and telling the owner to keep the change.

-He gathered up your purchases in one hand, grabbing yours with the other.

-Outside, he offers you your choice of water or chocolate milk and gives you your candy.

-You choose chocolate milk, because you haven’t had it in forever and it just seems so comforting

-It is, in fact, very comforting and you smile a little at his thoughtfulness

-As the two of you walk, you don’t do much talking. You’re still pretty rattled up from the alley, but you offer him some of the chocolate from the bag you’ve put in your sweatshirt pocket. He doesn’t accept, and you just shrug.

-You don’t realize that he actually really wants some chocolate, but he refuses to let go of your hand and his other hand has water bottles in it.

-He forgets he’s carrying a backpack and can just put them in there, because wow you’re really pretty and distracting and your hand is so small and delicate and soft and he will absolutely Not be letting it go until he has to

-Eventually, you speak up.

-“Thank you, by the way. For the chocolate and for the… alley. I’d have been in much worse shape if you hadn’t shown up.”

-Your voice is quiet and scratchy from crying, but he catches every word, always so very aware of you.

-He shrugs, as if saving you was a given. “I don’t want to see you hurt. Especially like that, no girl should be treated like that.”

-You squeeze his hand again in thanks.

-You idly chatter to each other, but he seems a little more distracted, scanning the area.

-He glares at several people. Some cross the street with their head ducked, others pass with glares of their own. If they glance at you, Namjoon’s hand tightens around yours and pulls you closer.

-When you get to your apartment building, he only hesitates about walking to your door a moment, encouraged by your hand tugging him along with you.

-Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten his hand was wrapped around yours, only becoming conscious of it when he would squeeze it.

-He doesn’t squeeze it when you start to drag him into your building

-At your door, you look back up at him and send him a shy grin.

-“Thank you, again, for saving me. And for comforting me, and walking me home, and… yeah. You didn’t have to do most of that and I’m really grateful.”

-His eyes are soft and tender as they meet your gaze, nothing like the man who aimed a gun at someone not 45 minutes ago.

-“I’ll always do my best to protect you, Y/N. I re-”

-He was cut off mid word by your door swinging open

-“Y/N! Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?” Your brother’s gaze zeroed in on your red, puffy eyes and the small dribble of blood on your throat caused by the small cut the knife had made. You hadn’t even noticed until now

-Namjoon had. Namjoon was going to help you clean it up when you got back to your apartment if you let him.

-Namjoon, assuming the guy was your boyfriend, dropped your hand quickly and cleared his throat

-You really hated the lack of warmth honestly and had to stop yourself from reaching for it again

-Your brother’s eyes shifted to the large man standing in your doorway, noting his appearance and drawing his own conclusions

-“What the fuck did you do to her, you son of a bitch?”

-Namjoon was ready to knock your “boyfriend” out for insinuating that he’d ever lay a hurtful hand on you but you stepped in between the two guys first

-“What-- No, Jordan, he saved me. Someone attacked me. I’ll tell you the whole story later, but I’m fine now, and that’s mostly thanks to him.”

-Your brother’s jaw clicked shut and stayed tense. His words were clipped and cold, almost as if he didn’t believe you.

-“Well. Then, I suppose I should thank you. (Y/N)’s safety is very important to me.”

-Namjoon’s voice was equally as tight in his response.

-“It was no problem. I’d hate to see her hurt, too. I should head out, though. You guys have a good night.” You glanced at his retreating form curiously. You had seen RM, the gang leader, you had seen the Namjoon from the library, but you’d never seen this version. This one was standoff-ish, and nowhere near the passionate and boyish guy you knew.

-It unsettled you a little.

-Your brother gently gripped your forearm and pulled you into your apartment, shutting and locking the door firmly once you were both inside.

-He met your eyes with a searching gaze, but waited a moment before speaking.

-“You can tell the truth now, did he hurt you?”

-You recoiled in shock. Namjoon? Hurt you? Sure, you knew who he was and what his reputation was, but you felt safer standing next to Namjoon than almost anyone else.

-“No, Jordan, he didn’t hurt me. I know him, he wouldn’t do that.”

-You made to turn away and go to the bathroom. You wanted to shower and wash the last few hours off your body. But your brother wasn’t done.

-“Wha- Know him? (Y/N), do you know who that is? How in the everloving fuck do you know him?” He practically shouted

-You shushed him, conscious of your nosy neighbors and the thin walls separating the apartments.

-You rolled your eyes, though. “Yes, I know who he is. That’s RM, formerly known as Rap Monster, and he’s my friend. He comes into the library a lot during my shift and we talk.” You bit back a soft smile at the thought that he might be back tomorrow.

-Your brother sees this though-- he’s way too good at reading you

-“No, absolutely not. You cannot be friends with him. He’s dangerous and I don’t trust him or his gang members.”

-He crosses his arms and stands straight, as if the extra inch and glower will force you to conform.

-But you weren’t 14, and he wasn’t your father.

-Anger washed over you, and you nearly forgot about your nosey neighbors and the thin walls.

-“Jordan, I am not a child! In fact, I am a fully fledged adult woman who can make choices for herself! Now, I have been getting to know Namj-- RM for a few months now, and I’d like to consider us friends. Not to mention, he and one of his gang members just saved me from a rather fucked up experience, so I’d be pretty damn grateful for him right now. Tell me, though, how exactly would you stop me from being friends with him? I met him at the library, you know, the place I work? Are you going to make me quit my job too?”

-You’d started to say Namjoon, but figured he didn’t want too many people knowing his real name.

-“I know you are not a child! But you’re my baby sister, and I promised to protect you always. I’m grateful he saved you tonight, but maybe you should consider quitting. You only need a few more credits to graduate next spring, maybe you should focus on finishing up and looking for a big internship, you know?”

-You glared at him.

-“Oh yeah, because we can really afford to lose my income.”

-He didn’t have a leg to stand on and he knew it. But he kept going.

-“Ok, so maybe it would be tight for a while, but if it got too bad you could get a new one, maybe closer to campus, just until you could start using your degree.” His voice started edging on desperate, but you just rolled your eyes and turned your back.

-“I’m not quitting my job or avoiding RM, end of story. Now I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I’ve had a long night and I just want to move on.” You, once again, started for the bathroom.

-Your brother stepped forward and caught your arm again, his touch gentle despite the argument you’d just had, and when you turned his eyes were soft and concerned.

-“What did happen tonight, (Y/N)? Are you okay?”

-You swallowed and nodded. “I’m okay now. A guy grabbed me as I was walking and dragged me into an alley. He had a knife and a hand over my mouth so I couldn’t do much, but RM and one of his guys threatened him and he let me go. RM took care of me and brought me home.” You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. Honestly, you were still pretty rattled by the whole experience.

-His eyes searched your face again, and your expression must have been convincing, because he just nodded and let you go.

-“Get some rest.”

-“Thanks”

-The next morning, your brother was up and gone before you, as usual, but he had prepared breakfast before leaving for work. There was a note left on the counter beside it.

-‘(Y/N), I’m sorry about last night. Have a good day and call me if you need anything.’

-You smiled a little at his apology.

-The day dragged on; you had one class in the morning that ended around 11 and your first afternoon class started at 2, so you used the time between to get a headstart on homework. You usually tried some at the library, but got distracted by Kim Namjoon more times than not.

-Your shift at the library started like any other. You saw some regulars, some people just there on a whim or because they needed a reference. You checked books out occasionally, checked them in when you needed to, but all around, had a quiet shift.

-When Namjoon walked in towards the end of it, though, you were surprised. He’d been there yesterday, and he didn’t usually come one day after another-- even he couldn’t read the books that fast.

-Even more surprising, he didn’t even go look at the books. Instead, he sauntered over to the desks, settling himself next to you. His grin showed easy confidence, but his eyes were guarded in a way you hadn’t seen in months.

-“You doing alright?” He asked

-You shrugged. You’d kept your mind preoccupied enough today, but you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t affected you.

-When a classmate had run up to catch you after the lecture to get last classes notes, you’d noticeably jumped, your heart rate increasing far more than if it had been a normal scare

-You kept checking over your shoulder as you walked to class, despite knowing how safe your campus was and the fact that it was broad daylight

-You really weren’t looking forward to the walk home tonight

-“I’m still spooked, but I think that’s a little justifiable given the circumstances.”

-He bit his lip, looking like he was trying to figure out whether to ask something. Something must have won, because he asked

-“Are you walking home alone again? I mean-- is your boyfriend coming to get you or are you going by yourself?”

-You cocked your head. Boyfriend? “What boyfriend? Is someone telling people that he’s my boyfriend?”

-Now it was his turn to look confused.

-“The guy last night at your apartment? Jordan or whatever, wasn’t he your boyfriend?”

-You stared at him for a second, trying to gauge whether he’s joking or not. “Jordan? You mean my brother?”

-A look of shocked understanding took over his face briefly. “Your brother, oh. Okay. Cool, cool. That’s cool.” He had never been this awkward, and you had to bite back a smile.

-But when a bright smile broke through his guarded eyes, you let your own loose.

-Namjoon stayed for the rest of your shift, helping you shut everything down and walking out with you.

-You expected him to wave and head off on his own after you locked up, but he stood for a second.

-“You never answered my question about whether you were walking home alone earlier.”

-You’d thought about calling your brother, really, you had, but every time you had the opportunity to do so, Namjoon did or said something that distracted you

-He didn’t know he was doing it, of course. How could he know you were thinking of calling your brother to bring you home after your shift?

-“Oh- um, well no. I don’t. I can call my brother, though, and he’ll come get me.”

-“But you’d still have to wait for him to come get you, right?”

-You shrugged, already opening your phone. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I’ll just wait here or at the shop down the block.”

-“I mean, I could just take you home.” He shrugged casually

-This man is absolutely not casual in his head, he is freaking the fuck out

-He has his bike, which he doesn’t bring to the library most of the time

-Mostly because that’s kinda conspicuous

-But also because he’s been trying to work up the nerve to ask to walk you home for a while

-But today he figured you might not want to walk

-You glanced up at him. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s a long walk.”

-He shot you an easy grin, “I wasn’t proposing walking. I have my bike.” He gestured to the parking lot where a motorcycle sat

-Your resolve is already pretty low. The walk is long, and you’d have to wait for your brother and then do the walk yourself, and you’d honestly rather just get back home and go to bed

-So you nod and follow him to the barely lit lot

-He hands you the helmet hanging from the bars, and when you shoot him a questioning look, he shrugs

-“I’d rather I get hurt than you, and I don’t have another helmet.”

-He’s definitely buying one for you like tomorrow

-You put on the helmet and slip onto the seat behind him, loosely wrapping your arms around him

-He smiles a little at the feeling of your slim arms around his waist and kicks on the bike.

-Now, you’d been on motorcycles before, and you knew what it sounded and felt like. But that didn’t stop you from jumping a little and tightening your grip around him

-You feel the rumble of his chuckle as you cling to his back, only really relaxing once you had gotten on the streets.

-Truth be told, the way home wasn’t that long when you drove it.

-The ride came to an end far too soon. He walked you to your door again, and outside your apartment, you hesitated.

-You had been talking all throughout the end of your shift, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to keep talking, about the books he reads, about his life, about your life, about everything. You were incredibly interested in the enigma standing before you and just wanted to figure him out.

-“Do you want to come in tonight?” You offered, very hopeful.

-He glanced at the door with an odd look. Almost as if he wanted to just as much as you did, but was nervous or scared.

-Which is odd. Because he doesn’t get scared.

-Right?

-RM, leader of the most influential gang in the city, hardly rivalled and with numbers unknown, didn’t get scared of going into a girl’s apartment right?

-He didn’t get scared of overprotective brothers, or of not being enough for them

-Not at all

-Apparently, he does.

-Because he shakes his head, and says “I don’t think your brother would appreciate it.”

-He shoots you a smile, and heads back down the hall.

-You slip into your apartment and frown at your brother, who’d obviously been listening.

-“What did I tell you about him, y/n?”

-You glare and shake your head at him

-“And what did I tell you? He’s a good guy, he was just bringing me home.”

-You brush past him and towards your room. He was always like this with guys, which made sense, but didn’t mean you had to appreciate it.

-You showered and ate dinner, but otherwise stayed in your room doing homework. Your classload the next day was light, so you could sleep in

-When you woke up the next day, Jordan was already gone, but today he hadn’t made breakfast or left you a note.

-‘Message received, dickwad.’ You thought, moving to grab a cup of coffee.

-Both your classes were after lunch, so you studied all morning, until you got a text from a friend in your art history course who wanted to meet up and study, since he’d heard you had a quiz that day.

-You agreed, and got ready, getting to a coffee shop near campus by 11:45, 15 minutes earlier than you had agreed, but you didn’t care much.

-Soonyoung got there early too, and you both quizzed each other on paintings and their years and artists. The quizzes weren’t exactly hard, they were just a lot of memorization

-You went your separate ways for your first classes, yours a basic bio course that you’d been putting off, and his some advanced math class for his major.

-Both classes passed as normal, and you felt you did well on the quiz, which was largely due to the studying and warning Soonyoung had given you

-You both walked out together, smiling and talking, and he offered to go with you to your job

-He needed some reference material for the paper you’d just been assigned

-And you were both from the same area

-You’d just met at the campus cafe earlier so you could study longer

-He also has a big ole crush on you

-Has for like a year

-Mans literally took the class to get close to you

-You have 0 idea and just think he’s a really good friend

-It’s kinda because you’re very focussed on this really nice gang leader who reads art history and philosophy books paired with scientific periodicals and articles.

-Agreeing, you both head to the bus stop, chatting just as easily all the way to the library

-That is, until you get there and see a familiar figure walking from the parking lot, a motorcycle parked among the few cars

-You notice that there are two helmets now

-And one of them is your favorite color

-Something you’d told him months ago when you were playing a silly 20 questions game to pass the last hour of your shift

-And he’d obviously remembered, or just gotten lucky and guessed

-The smile automatically lands on your face

-He very rarely comes at the beginning of your shift, he’s a very busy man, afterall.

-“Oh shit, y/n, RM’s here.”

-You haven’t stopped watching the tall man, and his gaze hits yours, and he waves, a smile starting to grow before it lands on your companion.

-He tries not to assume again, because last time he’d assumed your brother was your boyfriend

-“Yeah, he’s here pretty often.” You look over at Soonyoung in time to miss RM’s glare at the boy.

-Soonyoung, who hasn’t missed the glare, glances at you. “I’ll stay until he leaves.”

-He’s determined, and you can see it, and before you can tell him that you’d literally never been safer than when Namjoon was around, you’re walking in the doors and you have to go clock in.

-Soonyoung goes to look for his references, very obviously keeping an eye on RM

-Unfortunately for him, the references he needs are a few aisles away from him, so he can’t watch him forever, and, about 30 minutes later, he’s alarmed to see RM leaning against your desk, laughing and grinning

-You’d dissuaded his fear before he’d even voiced it this time

-“Soonyoungs’s not my boyfriend either, you know.” You’d said as he’d approached with the same guarded look. “He’s just a friend who needed a few references for a paper our professor assigned”

-He’d brightened again, and decided to try and play nice

-Even if the guy is a rival

-Soonyoung thinks he’s making inappropriate advances because you look a little scandalized, but he can’t tell that you’re also laughing at the smiling guy in front of you

-Your friend slides in, all cool confidence, doing everything he can to edge between Namjoon and your counter.

-“Hey, man, what are you doing here?”

-You watch as the smile slides quickly from his face and is replaced by the expression he wore when he’d seen your brother-- expressionless, mildly intimidating, cold.

-“I’m getting a book and talking to y/n. What are you doing here, Hoshi?”

-One glance over Soonyoung’s shoulder told Namjoon that you had no idea about your friend’s gang affiliation.

-Soonyoung, who didn’t want you to find out this way, but was determined to protect you, regardless, stood his ground, “Y/N and I are friends and I came with her.”

-He doesn’t want RM to know where you go to school, that could open up a whole world of trouble.

-RM looks Hoshi up and down, before cracking a smile. “Ok. I guess I’ll just go look at my books over here.”

-He doesn’t want to start a fight in the library, but oh boy does he want to start a fight with this guy

-So he’s making it very clear that he’s not intimidated

-He doesn’t expect Soonyoung’s next words

-Neither do you, honestly.

-“I think I’ll join you.”

-This man is trying not to scare you, but he’s gotta get the point across to the Wings boss that you are Off Limits and Protected™

-You watch, astounded, as your two friends go off together

-You still haven’t really put the connection together that Soonyoung is in a gang

-Why would you, he doesn’t necessarily look like a gang member.

-He’s pretty delicate looking, and he doesn’t have a lot of piercings or tattoos like Namjoon, and he’s never done anything or given you any sign that he might be affiliated

-You go back to your work though, occasionally glancing at the guys

-Namjoon is facing you and catches your eye to send grins

-Otherwise they glare at each other over their books

-You’re getting more and more confused

-What had happened?

-They both stay to the end of your shift-- neither leaving before the other

-So they both end up helping you close up

-Soonyoung fails to notice how RM knows what to do and has obviously done it before

-They both wait for you to lock up, staring at each other and daring the other to leave.

-When you turn around, their gazes don’t move. “Ok, I think I’ll leave you two to get a room…”

-It’s mostly a joke, but you still brush past them

-It’s a joke because you’re not ready to walk home alone yet

-And you were really hoping the second helmet meant that Namjoon was going to take you home again

-And you got paid that day so you were kinda hoping you could pay him back with a quick dinner

-The joke snaps them out of it and Namjoon reaches out to (gently) catch your arm

-But Soonyoung doesn’t like that

-“Get your fucking hands off her!”

-He shoves Namjoon and steps between the two of you

-But now RM is mad

-This is the second guy who assumed he’d ever hurt you

-And that’s pretty offensive given that he’d literally let you run a bus over him -When i say the guy is whipped

-The first was your brother, which he excused. Brothers are allowed to be protective

-But this guy is another gang member and has tried to stake a claim on you that he doesn’t have any right to

-Back off, Hoshi, you’re going to scare Y/N.”

-Namjoon keeps his voice level because he really doesn’t want to scare you, especially given the events of the other night

-A glance at you would reveal that you’re really not scared, you’re just confused

-“Soonyoung-”

-You don’t get to finish your sentence because the fucker interrupts you

-Now you’re kinda mad

-“I’m just trying to keep her safe. She didn’t appreciate your flirting earlier, so just catch the fucking hint, asshole.”

-He turns and grabs your arm this time. “Y/N, let me walk you home.” You just look at him. This man just made a lot of presumptions about your life without talking to you and you don’t really appreciate it.

-“Actually, Soonyoung, RM is my friend, and I don’t like what you’re implying about him.”

-You’re kinda glaring

-Namjoon thinks you might be referring to the part where Soonyoung said he was flirting

-He was definitely flirting

-He’s a had a huge crush on you for a while

-He’s still angry at Hoshi but now he feels a bit like a kicked puppy too

-Oh well

-More emotion to take out on Hoshi

-But then you’re really glaring when Soonyoung pulls you closer

-“Y/N, that guy isn’t the kind to defend. You don’t know him, not really.

-Let’s go, we can talk more on our way to your apartment.

-He’s never been to your apartment

-And you don’t necessarily think he’d do anything

-But you kinda get a weird feeling about him going there.

-You wiggle out of his grasp and step towards Namjoon

-“No, Soonyoung, it’s fine, you go on.”

-Soonyoung is very determined not to leave you with RM

-“Y/N, c’mon, let’s just go.”

-He reaches for you again

-“I’m pretty sure the girl said no, Soonyoung. Go on home, and tell the other Diamonds that she’s officially under Wings protection.”

-Namjoon’s voice is pretty deep, and he puts his hand on your shoulder

-Which means he feels you flinch when you hear about the Diamonds

-The whole interaction makes more sense

-And you know why Namjoon called him Hoshi earlier

-But damn are you pissed that he didn’t tell you

-You step closer to Namjoon, bumping into his chest, when Soonyoung steps closer to you again, his face very apologetic and obviously trying to make amends.

-You’re not afraid of him, he can’t hurt you when literally the scariest gang leader is standing right there and just blatantly said you’re under his protection

-But you definitely don’t want him to touch you right now

-He looks a little hurt but backs off.

-You put your hand on Namjoon’s and turn your head up to look at his face

-“Can you give me another ride home?”

-The look he returns to you fills your heart. It’s so tender, damnit.

-“Of course. Do you want to go wait by my bike?”

-You nod and start to walk toward the parking lot.

-That is, until Soonyoung yells very angrily

-“Oh! I see! You’re RM’s whore, that’s how you got Wings protection-”

-The fool doesn’t even finish the sentence before Namjoon is shooting his fist out to meet Soonyoung’s jaw

-The fight breaks out quickly, and you stand shocked for a second

-Obviously you had seen fights before

-But Namjoon, no, RM, is absolutely wailing on Soonyoung, who looks like he’s reaching for somethi-

-A gun

-He’s reaching for a gun

-And you look up at the security cameras

-And you really don’t want the police asking you questions

-Especially because you must seem very familiar with two guys who have gang affiliations in the footage

-You also don’t want Namjoon to get hurt

-Like you really don’t -So you start screaming at them

-“Stop! Jesus fuck, both of you, just stop!” You try to move in to pull one off the other, but a poorly aimed limb hits you instead (you’re pretty sure it was Soonyoungs, but you can’t be certain). “RM! Soonyoung! Stop!”

-When you spot the gun, your screaming becomes a little more frantic.

-When you said you wanted to return the favor, you didn’t mean patching him up after a fight

-“RM! RM! Stop! Soonyoung! Stop!”

-Neither seem to hear you, and you can’t get in to pull one of them off the other, so you try something else.

-Honestly, it’s a longshot

-And you’re hoping you don’t hurt either of them

-Because you’ve got some heavy books in there that could give them a concussion

-But you just need to shock them enough to get them to stop

-You throw your bookbag at them

-It hits both, thankfully, so they both get distracted

-They’re still locked in the same positions, but now they’re both staring at you, their chests heaving

-Your chest is as well, but that’s out of panic more than exertion

-“Both of you, stop it. I don’t need the cops at my door asking me questions because I openly interact with you and you kill one another. Nope, no thank you.” You take a deep breath because now that shit seems a little de-escalated, your heart needs to calm the fuck down. “Soonyoung, go the fuck home, and don’t ever talk to me again. Return your books during someone else’s shift, don’t talk to me during class, just, don’t ever fucking talk to me again. I’m no one’s whore.” You glare at him with every ounce of anger in your body

-Which, to be fair, is a whole lot

-He lied to you, didn’t listen to you, didn’t respect your boundaries or when you told him no, and then called you a whore.

-“Y/N, look I-“

-RM, who has let him go and moved to stand in front of you again, opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it

-“I said go, Hoshi.”

-He tosses one more glare RM’s way before turning around. He walks off and for a second neither you or Namjoon move.

-Then you let out a sigh of relief when his form disappears around a corner -Namjoon immediately turns to you, hesitantly reaching out a hand to cradle your face and check if you’re okay

-“I’m fine.” He still looks at you, very concerned. “Really, I’m fine. I’m not the one who just got into a fist fight.”

-You start scanning your eyes over his face. You couldn’t see much in the low light, but you caught a cut by his eye, where the skin was darkening already.

-Otherwise he looked fine

-You couldn’t see the rest of him though

-And honestly, if you saw the rest of him…

-You probably wouldn’t be looking for injuries

-Let’s be honest

-“Joon, your eye…”

-You reach your hand up to brush your fingers over the cut, and you don’t even realize that you’ve just called him Joon

-But damn, he did. He doesn’t realize it but he’s holding his breath, and he’s staring at you with wide eyes and oh wow he might be in love is this what love feels like? It has to be because he can’t be this excited about a nickname unless it’s from someone he loves

-A couple of other people call him Joon

-It’s not that complicated of a nickname

-But he doesn’t get this feeling when they call him Joon

-You notice that he’s staring at you after a second of him not saying anything and you give him a more concerned look “Namjoon are you okay?”

-He starts breathing again, but kinda only because little black dots start appearing in his vision and he doesn’t want to scare you

-“I-I’m fine, y/n. Um, what did you just call me?”

-You get shy

-You really hadn’t realized you said it, but Namjoon just seems so formal sometimes and you wanted to give him a nickname

-Also you’ve been calling him Joon in your head for a while

-But only sometimes, not all the time

-Only when you were thinking about how cute his dimple smile is

-Or when you thought about that one time he hugged you -It was the day after your birthday a few months ago

-He’d found out because he’d come in on your birthday (he didn’t even want a book, he literally just wanted to see you)

-But you had asked your coworker to cover so you could spend the day with some friends and brother

-The official excuse was that you had a doctor’s appointment and it was the only time they could fit you in for a few months

-He’d been pretty concerned (and very disappointed) so he’d asked your coworker

-She worked the shift with you sometimes and knew the two of you got on well

-So she just shrugged and said it was your birthday

-She figured he wouldn’t snitch on you

-Also she really wants you two to get together

-Because she can see how he looks at you

-It’s literally like you hung the moon

-This man goes out and panic buys chocolate and a little plushie that he thinks is really cute and that you’ll love

-You do. You love both

-When he gives it to you, you’re really shocked, though

-Because you didn’t know that he knew when your birthday was

-And you didn’t expect him to care that much

-You should have realized then that he was coming into the library just to see you sometimes

-You’re really shocked, though, and you kinda run into his chest and give him a hug

-And he just wraps his arms around you

-And it’s the nicest hug you’ve had in a while

-Because he’s so much bigger than you

-And his arms are so warm and gentle and strong and safe

-Anyway, so you weren’t really calling him Joon that often, right? Just whenever you thought about him...

-You step away from him and drop your hand, wrapping your arms around yourself

-“I called you Joon…”

-You’re silent for about .5 seconds before you start babbling

-“I’m sorry, it just kinda slipped out, but your name seemed so formal, especially since you just defended me again. I won’t call you Joon again if you don’t want me to, it could just be a one time thing if that’s what you want but I just- I- I’m sorry.” You finish lamely and look down, blush tinting your cheek

-He cradles your face tenderly, guiding your eyes back up to his. “Please call me Joon again, Y/N. There is almost nothing I’d like you to call me more than Joon. In fact, please forget you have ever heard any other name for me.”

-He gives you that soft grin you’ve only ever seen when he looks at you, and it’s your turn to freeze

-His eyes are sparkling with affection and mirth

-And his hand against your cheek is warm

-And are you crazy or is he moving closer?

-He’s absolutely moving closer

-Oh my god oh my god oh my god

-His lips are soft, and honestly, you’d hardly call it a kiss, more like a barely-there brush of lips

-There aren’t any of the fireworks or sparks you read about in all those romance novels

-But it raises goosebumps all over your body

-He pulled back just a little to catch your reaction, his eyes holding a little bit of anxiety about being rejected

-You blink up at him owlishly before raising yourself up to meet his lips with yours again

-You keep it soft, trying to transmit your feelings through the kiss

-You break away a moment later, smiling softly “Do you maybe want to go get some coffee or dinner or something? My treat.” You ask softly, aware of the bare amount of space between you

-He grins, straightening and taking your hand to walk towards his motorcycle

-“There’s nothing I’d like more in this moment, Y/N.”

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 10/10 (Taywhora) - Juno

Chapter Summary: The three finalists are just three challenges away from the end of the Bake Off, and the reunion with their fellow competitors, families, and friends at the finale garden party. The Signature and Technicals will be the hardest yet, and the Showstopper will ensure the three finalists bare a slice of their hearts to the country. But who will take the winning cake stand?

A/N: I have been utterly blown away by the support and comments I’ve had for this fic on tumblr and AO3! Huge big thank you to everyone who has cheered me on with this. For ease, the finale and epilogue are in one here (but are split on AO3). I hope to be back soon with some short stuff for rare pair challenge! xo Juno

WEEK 10: GRAND FINALE

Aurora felt like she didn’t sleep all week back in Worksop, and now, the night before she had to take the train down south to film the grand finale, the very idea seemed virtually impossible. Her body and her mind tossed and turned, every time she closed her eyes she saw cakes and breads and pastries and all sorts of things she was sure she’d never have any desire to eat again.

She had no time to think about Tayce, but Tayce had found her way in through the cracks in her mind while she had practised. Gone from the tent, but not gone from her life. And her last act in the tent had been to give Aurora five words that had rung like a melody in her head ever since.

You can win this, bitch.

She reached for her phone in the darkness, and it said it was half past one in the morning. She’d have to get up in three hours to get ready, before she headed out for the train. Lawrence would already be on the sleeper train, and Veronica was probably getting up at around the same time. But as she opened their own three-way chat, she found both Lawrence and Veronica were also messaging at silly time in the morning.

They weren’t sleeping either. Aurora understood why now.

Sure, she’d see Tayce again this weekend at the grand finale garden party. But her departure still replayed in her head.

Why did I end up this reliant on her anyway? I can bake without her. I’ve done it for years!

But this wasn’t just baking. It wasBake Off. It was surreal, intangible. It defied gravity. How many times had Aurora had to anchor herself to Tayce to keep herself from floating away?

Her phone came up with a notification from Lawrence.

Lawrence:why tf ru awake

The irony of Lawrence’s message was not lost on Aurora.

Aurora:your meant to be on the sleeper train Aurora: sleeper Aurora: clue is in the name Lawrence: yh but its stopped Lawrence: we’re in carlisle Aurora: what’s it like in Carlisle x Lawrence: dark

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but it tickled her far more than it should, and she found herself laughing far too hard at the message.

Aurora: how much ru lookin forward to this bein over now x Lawrence: oh loads babes Lawrence: cant wait to bring that cake stand to Glasgow x Veronica:keep dreaming Lawrence Aurora: unlikely lol x

On second thoughts, the teasing and the laughter were a balm for her worried mind right now, and Aurora found she was laughing more than she had all week at their conversation.

Sleep is overrated anyway.

——

The tent looked huge and imposing, but Aurora was still not at the front to her relief. If Lawrence had gone home last week - not that Aurora had ever expected her to - Aurora thought she would have squirmed at the front under the gaze of the judges. Especially now, with just the three of them left, their voices echoing like a vast cave, all of their heartbeats just sounding amplified as they hammered against their ribs.

It’s the finale. I made it.

Aurora glanced at the two badges she’d won. The same amount as Lawrence, with Veronica having one to her name. But as they’d seen from previous series, the amount of times someone had won Star Baker was not an indicator as to who would win the whole thing. But it certainly gave both her and Lawrence a minor edge, and both of them a swell in their chests.

Everything felt new and fresh. Lawrence had re-dyed her hair, blue this time, the vibrant colour almost a distraction in itself. Veronica had new black nails which she tapped on the workbench, and her roots had been redone. Aurora hadn’t thought to do any of that, so she was pleased to still be at the back.

Her turquoise KitchenAid still glistened like new, the workbench sparkled with the glassy varnish, and the cupboards and shelves around in their pastel colours made the summer air feel all the more fresh and clean. She glanced over at Veronica, her own green KitchenAid in the same state, and Lawrence’s Cadbury purple one too.

I wonder if I can pinch the KitchenAid after filming without the crew noticing.

——

Signature: 12 iced doughnuts - 6 ring, 6 filled

If there was one thing Aurora hated doing, it was piping filling into something as fiddly as a doughnut. They’d have to cool down, be hollowed, and then filled, a really fiddly process.

It was the hardest day in the tent by far. The morning was rainy, light rain that almost felt like it wasn’t there, and the air was sticky and humid, pushing the temperature in the tent up, especially with the deep fat fryers they’d been provided for the doughnuts.

Aurora chewed her lip so hard that it bled, piping mixture, watching them all closely in the deep fat fryer, filling up her jam piping bag and spinning it so tightly that it threatened to burst and cover her in sticky apricot jam.

In front of her, Lawrence groaned a few times as she battled against the heat and the doughnuts as they spat in the fryer, while Veronica was wringing her hands at the dough as it came out of her own fryer.

“Too soft,” she muttered, followed by “God, too hard,” at the next batch.

By the time judging came, with Prue back from her illness this week, Aurora had almost forgotten what she’d flavoured them with, but she wasn’t alone. Across from her, Veronica stuttered as she spoke about her doughnuts, while Lawrence just pushed her hair back at the question.

“Don’t know,” she’d mused to the judges, some of the old humour returning to her voice. “Started making them, had a breakdown, and here they are. Enjoy!”

The judges all laughed, but Aurora caught a glint in Lawrence’s eye, and the same thought passed between them both.

It’s not a lie!

All of them had similar critiques. Unanimously told they had good flavours, good bakes, and good designs, it was becoming virtually impossible to differentiate between them. How were they going to decide a winner?

“How are they going to do this?” Veronica said aloud to the room, as they sat in Norton Hall (not Carr Hall, Aurora said to herself) waiting for the Technical challenge to begin.

“Not a fucking clue.” Lawrence sighed.

“Are any of you thinking about today though?” Aurora asked. “Are you just thinking about the Showstopper tomorrow too?”

Lawrence and Veronica both nodded slowly, none of them looking at each other.

“Are you all … doing the same thing as I am?”

Lawrence and Veronica just continued nodding.

None of them even needed to say a word. They all knew.

——

Technical: Victoria Sponge (no recipe)

Technical sounded daunting at first glance, but Aurora tried to reason with her worried mind. Baking a Vicky sponge from scratch with no instructions? Please. Aurora baked a Vicky sponge twice a month for the local shelter. She could probably have done it in her sleep.

But the pressure cooker of the tent just made everything go up in smoke in her brain.

Her nan’s voice rang in her head for the proportions that she used to use. Two, two, two, and two eggs. But two what? Two cake tins? Two bowls? Two competitors? No, two pounds. When would her nan come into the new millennium and learn that no one talked about measurements in pounds and ounces any more?

“Lawrence?” She leaned forward.

“Alright, babes?”

“How much is two pounds in grams again?”

Lawrence was frowning. “What?”

“Please - just tell me. I know it’s a competition and all -“

“I’m not trying to stitch you up hen, I genuinely don’t know, I don’t use pounds and ounces because I entered the twenty-first century a while back.” Lawrence shook her head, holding her hands up in surrender. “What do you need it for anyway?”

“Recipe,” Aurora said, her already-hammering heart feeling like it could break her ribs.

“What’s up, love?” That was Veronica’s voice. Aurora closed her eyes, wracking her brain, but Lawrence’s voice pierced the gloom.

“How much is a pound in grams, d’you know?”

“Yeah,” came Veronica’s in response, “a pound is about four hundred and fifty grams. Y’know, you can also go the other way. A kilo is two point two pounds. What do you need that for, yours is already whisking?”

“No, Rory’s having a meltdown, and not with the butter.”

Jesus Dawn French Christ, Lawrence.

A hand met her shoulder, and Aurora was astonished to see Veronica at her side.

“You alright, love?”

She held her gaze for a long time, unflinching, but her eyes were softer than ever, and her hand was surprisingly warm and calming as she rubbed Aurora’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Just - this,” Aurora waved her hands, encompassing the whole tent. Maybe that was absurd to an outside observer, but Veronica knew. Veronica understood.

“I looked at your instagram,” Veronica said quietly, “and I know you bake cakes loads, so I know you can knock this one right out of the park, alright? And you know that too. I mean, I can’t remember a thing about making jam now! And I’m probably going overboard with my sugar. But hey, it’s the finale! I can’t be sent home now!”

Veronica shrugged, her face split in a grin that bordered on maniacal, and Aurora had to admit that she had a point. She took a shaky inhale, then let it out.

“Look, I know you miss Tayce,” Veronica dropped her voice even lower, her hand squeezing her shoulder now, “because I’ve missed Tia since alt week. And we know Lawrence is missing Ellie, even though she’d probably rather move to London and take up Morris dancing than admit that.”

“You say that, but I can do that accent, I’ve watched Eastenders,” Lawrence called over her shoulder. “And I won’t be any worse than Dick Van Dyke.”

“We’re all missing everyone,” Veronica said, and Aurora knew she didn’t mean everyone, “but you don’t need Tayce to be able to bake. You can do it on your own. You’ve done it loads before this show, and you’ll do it again!”

“I can’t,” Aurora heard her fear contradict her in a whisper.

“You can,” Veronica said firmly, her gaze now stern. “You can do this.”

Aurora took a deep breath, held for four, and let it out for five.

“I can.”

“That’s it, love,” Veronica said, nodding and starting to walk away.

——

“Here’s to the last time we’re here as a three,” Aurora said, raising her glass along with Lawrence and Veronica. One of the producers had brought in a bottle of champagne, and even though Aurora didn’t really like the bubbles very much - they tickled her nose - she accepted the glass that was poured for her.

“How much does everyone remember about today?” Veronica asked, her arms and legs crossed on the sofa. “Because I can’t remember a bloody thing. I can’t even remember what the judges said about that piece of crap that my Vicky sponge turned out to be. Did I come last?”

“Yeah,” Aurora nodded. “Was nothing in it, though. We were all shit.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Lawrence muttered, a hint of her old mischievous glint back in her eye.

“And tomorrow we’re recording the finale,” Aurora sighed, swirling the champagne. “Five hours in a tent, followed by half an hour break, followed by presenting the Showstoppers, followed by the garden party, followed by our speeches. And then filming three endings. Where one of us wins each time.”

“It’s gonna be worth it by the end, though,” Veronica said brightly.

“Who’s gonna come from your family, Lawrence?” Aurora asked.

“My parents, my cousin Chloe, and my best pal Stinky Pete.” Lawrence grinned. “Can’t wait to see them. And who have you two got?”

“Uhm,” Aurora frowned. “I know Blake’s coming, and my nan, but I thought you could only invite two people?”

“Mine said four,” Lawrence replied. “God, you really can’t count, can you?”

“What about you?” Aurora asked, motioning to Veronica with her glass.

“My mum’s coming and my brother.” She twitched her shoulders. “None of my friends could get time off. Shame, really.”

Aurora nodded, sipping her champagne, trying to hold off on sneezing through the bubbles. “And the others.”

“Can’t wait,” Veronica smiled her usual pinched, nervous smile, her leg jogging. “I’ve missed them all. Tia especially, but I’ve missed them all. I wonder who they all think will win?”

“And Ellie still owes me a tenner for that Puff the Magic Dragon shit that she thought Tayce’s biccies were,” Lawrence mused.

Aurora pursed her lips at Tayce’s name, but pushed it to the back of her mind. What mattered now was not Tayce, but the fact that her eyes were drooping after not having slept the previous night, and the champagne making her head throb.

“Early one?” Veronica’s sigh must have read been a telepathic projection, because they all stood in unison and trailed each other up the stairs to their respective rooms, ready to pass out and begin everything again in the morning.

——

Showstopper: A picnic for a fellow contestant - to include one celebration cake, 12 savoury pastries, and 12 patisserie.

When the three of them had seen the Showstopper for the weekend, right after Tayce’s elimination, they’d all nodded knowingly to each other.

This one has been just …made for us all.

It was obvious. It was blatantly obvious that everything that had happened had been noticed by the producers, and the staff, and everyone with eyes and without them too, that all three of the finalists were missing someone.

Veronica was setting her alarms up, all five of them as usual, before dragging her ingredients from the bag she kept. On her workbench, she’d gently placed a photo Tia had taken of some landscape or other. Lawrence had laid all her ingredients out on a baby pink tablecloth that complimented the purple of her own KitchenAid.

Aurora only had one thing to remind her of Tayce. She’d gone into a charity shop in the week with Blake, looking for something he’d seen in the window, and had found something that Blake had gasped at.

“It’s a Welsh love spoon!” He’d thrust the small wooden spoon into Aurora’s hand, and she’d turned it over and over silently in her fingers, marvelling at the twisting pattern on the handle, curling into a heart shape at the top.

“That’s fate, that is,” Blake had nodded. “You’ve got to get that.”

Aurora set the spoon now on the counter top, resting against her own KitchenAid for now, as she ran back through the timings again in her head, and what she was planning.

The twelve savoury pastries were easy. Puff pastry sausage rolls with added baked beans and cheese. Even if Prue didn’t like baked beans, that was all Tayce seemed to be eating every breakfast time.

Screw what Prue likes. This isn’t for her.

The cake? It had taken some thought. Black Forest gateau with a mirror glaze to top it off, not something she knew if Tayce liked, but something that felt sophisticated and stylish. And the deep purple of the blackberries was a colour that Tayce loved.

The patisserie was the hardest one, but she’d settled on millefeuille, similar to some that she made before for her nan’s seventy-fifth birthday, delicate and decorative, fragile-looking but built to stand tall. Not to mention they tasted so good that the world ceased to exist when someone bit into one.

“It’s like they’re all back here, isn’t it?”

Veronica’s voice was quiet, but happy. Lawrence’s intake of breath was shaky, but she didn’t turn to face her, focusing on her bake.

“You’ve got a tin of baked beans on your workbench, Aurora, it’s so surreal! And Lawrence, you’ve got so much pink on your workbench today.” Veronica motioned to the pink fondant she’d made, pink icing, pink glaze, pink cake filling. Pink and white marshmallows, pink jam … every shade of pink imaginable. Lawrence just gave a snort and shook her head.

It was meant to be the hardest challenge yet, but it definitely didn’t feel that way. The tent heated up with the warm sunshine outside and the combination of ovens and bakers and inside, but as soon as nerves started manifesting, the three of them were all there to diffuse them all for each other.

When Lawrence started dropping her utensils, both Aurora and Veronica were at her side in an instant to grab her hands and calm her down before she started panicking. When Veronica clung to the edge of her workbench, motionless, Lawrence and Aurora were both there beside her to talk her down.

But when the last ten minutes were called …

Shit.

Aurora felt cold fear creep back up her chest. She still had the millefeuille to assemble. She’d done three, but nine remained. And the puff pastry had to come out of the oven. And the glaze needed to be poured over the cake for it to set into a mirror in time -

“Aurora?” That was Lawrence, with Veronica on her heels. “You’re making a squeaky whiny noise like a balloon letting out air. What d’you need?”

“But - ten minutes - your own bakes -“

As Aurora flapped, the other two simply ran round her side and started doing it without needing her to tell them. Soon all her pastries were on the tray, and the cake was out the fridge, the glaze ready to go.

“You pipe, I’ll load,” Veronica muttered, and she did just that, while Lawrence put the cake onto the metal tray, jogging back from her own workbench where she’d had to finish off one of her own patisseries, and as Aurora finished piping the last millefeuille …

“Bakers! You have five minutes on your final Showstopper!”

They were all pulling out the stops, dashing between all three of their benches. Veronica was throwing gold leaf around like it was confetti. Lawrence was covered in icing sugar, the sweet scent filling the air. Aurora poured the deep purple onto the cake, praying to the Monster gods that it would set into a mirror glaze in time …

“Time is up! The final Showstopper has finished! Congratulations, bakers!”

The whole world seemed to crumble at Noel’s words.

Aurora looked at the mountain of food she’d produced, everything that reminded her of Tayce, and she knew then that serving this would mean serving a slice of her heart to the nation. And that was the plan all along.

Everything in her body ached, her bones were hollow, her breathing felt too loud alongside the deafening roar of blood in her ears. But as she leaned on the workbench, surveying the amount of work she’d done, she felt a tickle at the back of her throat, and suddenly she was laughing, so hard that she felt like she’d never stop. And then so was Veronica. Then Lawrence began too.

They were all cackling, all three of them, delirious with delight. Noel and Matt came to congratulate them, clapping as they did so, and then Veronica came out from her bench to hug Lawrence, and Aurora ran to join in, and the three of them were suddenly hugging, laughing, sobbing, cheering into each others’ ears.

Until they were all too weak to speak.

——

Aurora, first alphabetically, was going to be the first out of the tent with her final Showstopper, to make her way to the garden party that was always put on for friends and family for the grand finale.

All her bakes were on an enormous tray and she carried it, with Noel on her left and Matt on her right, all three of them bearing the load. Aurora was flabbergasted that nothing was moving, nothing was falling, but everything was still and settled.

As soon as she stepped outside the tent for the first time, she was met by a blast of noise like heat from a furnace.

Clapping, cheers, whoops, laughter. The crowd at the garden party was friends, family, co-workers, film crew, all the staff of Norton Hall, and of course Blu and Cheryl. She caught sight and sound of her nan - her nan! - her accent and her distinctive nasal voice above the rest of the crowd, bless. And Blake, waving his hands in the air and cupping them to his mouth to howl at the sky.

And the rest of the contestants, waiting with the biggest smiles, with applause, with cheers and shouts that drowned out everything else that was happening.

Tayce was in the centre. And Aurora had never seen her look so happy.

She rested the tray at the table outside the tent behind her name, and stopped, stunned, blinking so many times at the noise and her senses overloading. How green the grass was, how vibrant the gingham pattern on the table, how blue the sky was above her head, how bright and hot the sun felt on her bare arms.

“Go on, Aurora,” Matt muttered, pointing to the crowd. “You can go and see them!”

Aurora walked slowly, the dream she was in making her legs shake. Her feet were resting on air, two inches above the ground, just above the blades of grass. But she somehow made the walk, the whole twenty-foot walk, away from the tent towards them all, dazed by their overflowing love, their cheers and their applause.

Tayce was beaten in the first hug by Hurricane Ellie, swamping Aurora in her arms; and by the time she’d disentangled herself, Bimini was there, leaping forward and rubbing her arms and beaming at her; followed by a grinning Pip, followed by Joe, still cackling. In fact, everyone seemed to get a turn before Aurora was left with just Tayce, waiting patiently, the grin she wore showing all her teeth, her eyes crinkling in happiness.

“Told you you could do it, bitch!”

——

“I made this spread for Tayce,” Aurora began, still cursing that her name was first alphabetically and she was first up on the podium.

Part of the Showstopper this year was a little speech to the crowd at the garden party. It was meant to be a tear-jerker, obviously, for the viewers to have an emotional finale, but it had just served to make all the bakers pull their hair out while writing a speech about which contestant they were baking for, and why.

“I made it for her because Tayce has been my rock throughout the competition. We were on the back row together, we got through all the first challenges together … she corrected me on the name of the hall for God’s sake, I was calling it Carr Hall for ages!”

The polite laughter tinkled around the grounds.

“Tayce has been an inspiration in so many ways. She’s taught me that … that I can channel my worries into the energy that I use to make a cake or a bread or whatever - and that can be fuel for me, to push me forwards. Tayce showed me that they were just a source of power like anything else. She always told me to relax. Well, chillax. And when I did, I rediscovered that I loved baking.”

Aurora couldn’t look at Tayce, even from this distance. Couldn’t see her eyes. If she did she might burst.

Lawrence and Veronica sat on the chairs next to the tent, next to the judges, waiting their turns, while everyone else sat or stood on the grass; but Aurora’s position on the podium, towering over them all, kept eyes trained on her as she gave her speech about her Showstopper, before everyone would come and eat.

“Me and Tayce,” Aurora’s voice cracked. “Well, we didn’t always get along. It’s a competition, and we all have our eyes on the prize, and that pressure of wanting to be the best got on top of us both at times.”

The silence was only broken by birdsong.

“But Tayce taught me that I do my best when I’m relaxed. When I’m loving what I’m doing. She taught me that my thoughts can be my own worst enemy, especially when I’m thinking about other people.” She paused, glancing back at her cue card, the words jumbling before her eyes. “And most of all she taught me that - that I ama great baker. That …”

The lump in her throat was back, the fear creeping up her windpipe to strangle her words. She shook her head defiantly.

“That I am more than capable, that I’m skilled, and that I’m … loveable. She held up a mirror for me. So I made one for her too. Thanks, Tayce.”

More polite laughter, followed by applause, as she indicated the mirror glaze cake.

Finally, she met Tayce’s eyes, and as soon as she did, her own burned with unshed tears, emotion swelling in her like a tidal wave.

But Tayce too, her lip quivered, not even noticing the others around her or their applause. She opened her mouth, and her lips moved, but only for Aurora.

“Love you, bitch.”

Aurora managed to mouth back to her while applause rang in the air.

“Love you, too.”

——

“Ellie’s gonna hate me for this,” Lawrence muttered into the microphone, and Aurora looked over at the crowd, Ellie already shaking with silent laughter with her hands over her mouth. “I made a spread for her. She probably wasn’t expecting it, it rains too much to ever have a picnic outside in Dundee, poor bitch has probably never seen the sun -“

“Lawrence,” Matt Lucas piped up, “just a reminder that this will air before the 9pm watershed.”

“So I can’t say bitch? Fuck’s sake!” Lawrence put her hands on her hips.

Aurora put a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making too much noise, but laughing this much was making tears stream down her face; and Veronica, sat next to her, leaned into her arm, also shaking, stuffing her fist into her mouth to silence herself.

“Anyway, I made all this pink stuff for Ellie. And not just because Team Scotland has to stick together,” she added, as Ellie whooped in the crowd, “but because she really has been the best friend I could have made here.”

Veronica let out a cough that sounded a great deal like ‘sexual tension’ and she and Aurora spluttered with laughter.

“And ignore the peanut gallery over there,” Lawrence motioned to Veronica without even looking. “Because first and foremost, Ellie has been a great friend to me. She sat with me when I was upset when I did something wrong, and she was the first to celebrate anything I got right - even if it was at her expense.”

“Aww,” Veronica murmured next to Aurora.

“I take everything really seriously. I take baking to heart. If I’m not good at something, it freaks me out, because I’m usedto being good at everything I try. Gifted kid syndrome, if you know you know.” Lawrence thumped her chest. “But Ellie just has fun with it all. She taught me that you can have fun with something without necessarily needing to be perfect at it. There isn’t a yardstick of quality to having fun. And even if I’m not good at something, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth the time.”

Ellie was now quiet, as the others turned to watch her, but she was only looking at Lawrence, oblivious to everyone around her as the grin on her face quivered with emotion.

“Ellie is fun. And I wanted to make something that would be fun, and also her. That’s why there’s a lot more pink than I’m used to,” Lawrence continued, motioning to the huge pink cake and the pink icing on the choux buns she’d made.

“When I was unsure of myself, Ellie reminded me of what I could do. But she also reminded me that I should be having fun. That’s the reason I made this for her. Because baking should be fun, and should be something you don’t take too seriously. And once I got that, I loved it.”

As everyone applauded again, Lawrence gave the crowd a thumbs up, pushing her hair out of her eyes, looking as if she wanted to get off the podium as fast as possible.

——

“Come on Veronica,” Aurora muttered under her breath.

Veronica looked very short, smaller than usual, even on the podium, the microphone somewhere at her forehead before she adjusted it to her mouth. She licked her lips; her eyes darted to the crowd, to Aurora and Lawrence sat separate to them all, to the judges, and then down to her note paper again.

“Well,” Veronica said for what felt like the fortieth time, another giggle escaping her lips. “Hello, everyone.”

“She’s bombing,” Lawrence muttered.

“She’s just too nervous,” Aurora nodded.

“Right. So. I made this spread for Tia, you know this now, because there’s a sign saying Tea or Coffee on it, I thought that was a nice - erm, a nice touch.”

“God.” Lawrence put a hand to her chest.

Aurora watched as Veronica took a deep breath, held it for a second, and let it out slowly, the silence only interrupted by birdsong.

“I - I’m a perfectionist. If it’s not perfect, I don’t want it. If something is out, even by ten grams, even by a centimetre, I just want to throw it out and never look at it again.”

Veronica repeated the deep breath, clenching the podium, her knuckles white.

“Me and Tia just clicked. We’re quite similar, me and her. We have the same humour, we like the same police dramas and murder mystery documentaries, we both like art and drawing and stuff -”

“Since when does Veronica like drawing?”

“You need to check her instagram page,” Lawrence muttered back, “it’s all artwork.”

“- but the one thing me and Tia didn’t have in common was baking. Tia’s an amazing baker. But something about that tent - as soon as she was in it, she kept making a mess of everything, she won’t mind my saying that; and I know she got really frustrated, but she never wanted to quit. She just always wanted to get better.”

Veronica was tearing up, it was evident even from this distance, her white knuckles shaking. Tia, in the crowd, squirmed for her, clutching Pip’s hand as Veronica fought to get some more words out.

“Tia taught me that it’s fine to make mistakes.”

Another long pause.

“Not that - I don’t mean that Tia is always making mistakes! She does a lot of stuff really great! But she taught me that being perfect is basically impossible. And that I can trust myself if something goes wrong, that I can trust myself to be able to fix it, and not just give up.”

Tia dabbed her eyes with her free hand, shuffling nearer to Pip, who had a hand on her own chest in sympathy.

“Because she doesn’t give up. She just wants to do better. And I love that about her. I wish I’d put less pressure on myself when I first got in there, trying to be perfect at everything, instead of trying to be my best, and getting better by making mistakes.”

Veronica finally seemed to be settling, the rare smile appearing.

“She showed me that making mistakes is fine, and it doesn’t mean I’m a failure, it means I’m a person. And she - her bakes were amazing, and lovely, and she’s such a genuine person that everyone in the tent fell in love with her. Well,” she paused, looking up, “I did.”

Tia’s jaw dropped as she clutched at her chest, leaning into Pip at her side, tears falling freely down her face now as the rest of them clapped, while Veronica’s smile widened, her own tears falling too.

“That’s so …” Aurora murmured, not realising she was holding Lawrence’s hand.

“… cheesy,” Lawrence muttered, but her voice had a crack in it.

——

Aurora’s nan got the first hug when she went over to her family. Her best friend Blake had the second, patting her heavily on the back.

“So which one is the one you made all the cake for then?” Her nan motioned to the crowd of contestants, who had been mostly all mingling together, now breaking off to sit with the crew and each other.

“Tayce is - oh, she’s here.”

Tayce, appearing from somewhere, plonked herself on the grass by the picnic blanket and helped herself to a sausage roll. “Oi oi, saveloy! Oh, these look nice! You put baked beans in them?” Tayce grinned. “You know me like the back of your hand, Rory!”

“Beans on toast was your go-to breakfast, wasn’t it?”

“Oh god, yeah,” Tayce nodded. “Breakfast of kings! The only breakfast! If I could have beans on toast for the rest of my life, I’d die happy. A bit flatulent, but happy.”

She looped her arm through Aurora’s waist, planting a kiss on her lips, before picking up a pastry, leaving Aurora floating just a little from the contact.

“So are you two dating now?” Blake asked, his eyes wide as saucers, hoping for gossip as usual.

Aurora met Tayce’s gaze; they hadn’t really discussed anything official yet. Tayce’s smile was strangely shy, and her eyes earnest, a thousand questions behind them; but as they both nodded simultaneously, it felt like they could work out the details a little bit later.

“Yep!” They both exclaimed at the same time.

Tayce reached down and grasped Aurora’s hand. “And you’re the first to hear about it - not the tabloids, not Hello magazine!”

“You’re not just putting it on for the cameras, are you?” Aurora’s nan teased, wagging her finger at the pair of them.

Tayce turned to glance at Aurora, the same thought passing between them both.

“No way,” they both said at the same time, to a snort of laughter from Blake.

There had been a time, not too long ago, that Aurora might have taken the question as a cue to overthink, overanalyse - but that thought didn’t even exist any more. Instead of being like ducks, kicking to stay on the surface, they now just floated effortlessly.

Aurora just squeezed Tayce’s hand.

Everything was falling into place.

——

“Taking into account your final bakes, and your performances throughout the series, we’ve made our final decision.”

Aurora’s left hand was numb; Lawrence was cutting off the circulation to it.

They all stood before the judges, filming the first of the three endings to keep the actual winner a secret from everyone. This would be Aurora’s win; they’d then film Lawrence’s and finally Veronica’s. For now, they all stood in line; Aurora at Lawrence’s right and Veronica at her left.

Prue held the cake stand, the Bake Off emblem engraved in the glass, all of them in a line waiting for the decision, while the crowd stood impatient, ready to put on a show to congratulate them all.

“You’re all incredible bakers, the best in the UK,” Prue continued from Paul’s speech, “and this was the most difficult season by a long way to judge. You’re all so skilled, imaginative, and clever, and I know you’ll all go on to amazing things after this is over.”

Lawrence’s hand was shaking in Aurora’s; and she could hear Veronica’s breathing on her other side.

This is it.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

Complete silence.

Even the birdsong had waned in the background.

A silence that seemed to last an eternity.

Aurora watched Prue’s mouth, wondering when she would open it again, put them all out of their misery, Veronica’s breath audible through the silence and Lawrence’s hand sweating in hers and Aurora’s heart must be the loudest thing in the whole country right now at the rate it hammered her ribs -

——

EPILOGUE

October 2021

Tayce had had to let Aurora go for Blu to wield the camera at the three finalists on the smallest of the neverending number of sofas in Pip’s sister’s house. Lawrence in the middle of the three, all squashed together on what was really a two-person sofa, but they’d all linked arms and interlocked their fingers, staring at the screen, watching themselves.

“I’m never gonna get used to being on screen,” Tia mused, shaking her head. “I swear I don’t sound like that.”

“You do, you definitely do.”

But Tia was only half paying attention to Tayce’s words, her attention on Veronica, who was ignoring her, staring enraptured at the screen. Lawrence, on the other hand, kept glancing over to see Ellie, both of them doing that strange thing they did in filming yet again, just able to know when the other was looking over at them to make sure they were alright.

Tayce tried to relax, hands in her lap, but her chest fluttered every time she met Aurora’s gaze.

The finale had been Tayce’s favourite episode to watch, simply because she hadn’t been in it. The element of surprise was there as she watched it, although it was there for all of them, because there the finalists were, on the screen, still waiting for the winner to be announced.

It must be between Aurora and Lawrence. Veronica only has one badge; it probably won’t be her.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

The painful zoom of the camera on everyone’s faces. Aurora’s nervous smile, pure yet heartbreaking. Lawrence looking at the sky to stop herself from crying, both her hands occupied by another finalist. Veronica, her stare intent with anticipation, chewing her bottom lip.

“Aurora!”

The room erupted.

Cheryl was jumping up and down, the first at the sofa to hug Aurora as she sat still as a statue, hands at her mouth and eyes agape in shock, as Lawrence pulled her tightly to herself, planting a delighted kiss in her hair.

“It’s you!” Veronica shrieked, shaking her knee, “it’s you! You won! You won the whole thing!”

And then everyone else streamed in to hug her. Pip was first - Pip was always the first to lay a comforting hand - Tia was close on her heels - Ginny’s hands looped round her neck from behind and their eyes crinkled in joy - but Aurora still sat frozen, only her rapid blinking suggesting anyone was home at all.

Tayce felt time stop again, but this time in a moment of perfection and not defeat.

The contest environment evaporated, she couldn’t fathom feeling anything but pure elation for Aurora’s win, couldn’t fathom having felt any other way for this wonderful woman who she was lucky enough to now call her girlfriend, sat with her hands at her mouth and silent tears coursing down her face as Blu pointed a camera at it.

“Aurora! It’s you! It’s you!” Blu was patting her knee while the rest of them excitedly hugged and squeezed at her. “Do you have any words for us right now, or is it a bit overwhelming?”

“It’s - what - I can’t believe it!”

Aurora’s phone was buzzing on the dining room table, undoubtedly hundreds of friends and family calling and texting and tagging her in Instagram posts and tweets, congratulations spilling over from every direction, an outpouring of love and support and adoration.

The programme was still running, footage of Prue and Paul giving their final summaries of Aurora, and the other two finalists - other contestants giving sound bites - Aurora’s finalist speech as her face was red with tears - the where are they now segment starting to play for all the contestants.

Pip back at her day job, giving the camera a thumbs up, followed by a snap of her with Ginny at Blackpool Tower and a video of them both on the Big One. Joe reliving that Instagram video again, and clips of Cherry, Ellie and Asttina all trying to recreate it too. Cherry back at the dog-grooming business she worked for, and walking her own dog. Asttina back at the gym, followed by a photo of her and Bimini on a boat on the Thames. Bimini at their laptop, followed by pictures of them holding the childrens’ book they’d written since the show. Ellie’s move to Glasgow, a clip of her dyeing Lawrence’s hair back to the bright purple it was now. Tia and Veronica somewhere in the Lake District, windswept but with smiles a mile wide.

But Tayce didn’t see or hear any of it. Aurora was the only thing she could see.

And as she stumbled towards Tayce, draping herself into her arms and laughing in delight, Tayce held her as tightly as she could, crushing her eyes shut but not stopping her own tears, her heart bursting for Aurora as she was privileged to share this moment of exhilarated happiness with her …

She’s already a Star Baker. She doesn’t need a badge or a title.

But she’s got both now! And hopefully she can know that she’s a Star Baker as much as we all do!

——

THE END

#rpdr fanfiction #down with the recipe #rpdr uk #juno #uk2 #baking au #gbbo au #taywhora #tayce #a'whora #bimini bon boulash #veronica green #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #ginny lemon #asttina mandella #tia kofi #fluff #lesbian au

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prolestariwrites · 4 years

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The Wish [1]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero, V, Lady, Eva, Sparda, OC Rating: General Tags: Family, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Typical demon hunting violence

Summary: A demon gives Dante the chance to have his greatest desires made real. When he finds himself in a seemingly idyllic life, all seems well until it starts to unravel. Will he sacrifice himself to save the family he lost, or will he choose to give them up for the truth?

A/N: Hooray for a new story! This story takes place sometime between DMC4 and DMC5. Thank you to @solynacea for reading and lending her OC for this fic. If you’re read Promise Me Forever you might recognize Lir, but she is completely different in this fic, so I hope you like it! I’ll be publishing about every week since I’m mostly finished. Your comments are always appreciated, and you can check this out on AO3 and FFNet too!

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Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For

“Nero!” Dante’s voice echoes down the hallway as he peers through the rush of demons, swinging Rebellion as best as he is able as he scans for him. “You good?”

“Need help already?” The kid sounds nearby, but down a ways, and Dante snorts at the smart-aleck response. He bites back a response, remembering what it was like to be nineteen and feel invincible, to have power and stamina and enjoy the rush of killing demons.

It’s different now that he is older, the moves as familiar as breathing, the enemies mundane as paint drying. Meeting Nero and getting to know the kid, training him, especially with his suspicions all but confirmed, has breathed new life into the legendary devil hunter: but it’s still just a regular Friday night, clearing out another warehouse that houses another cell of demons for another client that’s just going to bitch about the holes left in the walls.

Dante continues pushing forward, slicing off arms and heads as he goes. There has to be a queen mother up ahead; no way this many slipped through a portal, these babies were bred. Maybe getting to the big bad will be interesting, and then he and Nero can stop before going into Fortuna to get a drink or six. Maybe he’ll even let Dante crash on the couch, now that he and Kyrie have set up in a house in town and have the room.

The drone of Red Queen suddenly cuts off, the lack of white noise catching his attention. “Nero?” he calls again, but this time instead of a snarky comment two shots ring out in response, followed by the entire building shaking as a roar goes up from inside. “Nero!” Dante shouts, slicing as he doubles his speed, actually trying now so he can find the kid and find out why the hell he needed his gun in such close quarters. Either he forgot one of Dante’s rules for demon hunting (“don’t shoot a gun in a tight space, dumbass”) or he’s in trouble.

Turns out it’s trouble—well, sort of. They are on the third floor, having been going methodically through each level to clear it out, and when Dante skids to a stop in the central part where the elevators are, he finds them gone. Instead, there is a huge hole where the elevators used to be, the concrete and iron in a heap below them where it had collapsed.

He looks up to see Nero on the other side of the giant hole, wiping his brow with his forearm. “You okay, kid?” Dante calls over.

“Yeah,” Nero shouts with a bit of a laugh. “I got them corralled but I guess the weight was too much. Just managed to jump out of the way.”

Dante shakes his head. “Stay there and I’ll come get you.”

“Nah, I got this. There’s gotta be a set of fire stairs at the end.” Nero points Red Queen towards the dark hallway behind him. “Let’s make sure that was the last of them. I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

“Yeah.” Dante sighs as he watches Nero go, and then looks around at where the floor and elevators had broken from the supports and given way. No way the weight made this happen; you could probably park a semi in here and it would hold. The building is structurally sound, supposed to be anyway, and it would take more than a few dozen demons to knock a hole in it. No, something made the floor collapse, and his gaze goes upwards, wondering where the queen bee could be hiding.

Dante doubles back and finds his staircase, taking the steps two at a time upwards. The hallways are eerily empty after the deluge in the bottom floors, and he stalks carefully through, checking each office. The damn place has a thousand places to hide, so there is no telling where the big bad could be.

On the top floor, lucky number seven, he hits the jackpot. The second he steps out from the stairwell Ebony and Ivory are drawn as he picks his way through the nest that covers the walls and floor and even ceiling. The emergency lights give a weird glow to everything, but his demon eyes can see clearly in the dim light as he listens carefully for movement.

He finds the demon in the corner office, thinking it has good taste and laughing at his own joke. At first he doesn’t see the queen, but a shift in the air catches his eye and he fires both guns into the dark, smiling at the sound of bullets making their impact.

With a wail it emerges from the shadow, clutching its chest. “What did you do that for?” the demon yells.

“Eviction notice, numbnuts,” he says. “Time to head back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

“I can’t,” the demon argues. “I have my eggs to hatch, my babies to look after—”

“Babies?” Dante chuckles, scratching his head as he places his other hand on his hip. “Sorry, I think I killed all of ‘em.”

The demon snarls. But instead of threatening him, Dante is surprised when it asks, “What do you want?”

“What?” he blinks.

“What do you want? To leave me alone?”

Dante huffs. “Don’t work like that, sweetheart.”

The demon moves closer and he aims his guns again. It starts to unfold itself from its spot, and Dante’s eyebrows go up to see it’s probably almost seventeen feet tall, completely squished into the office. “My name is Veguaniel,” it says. “I am the demon of fortune.”

“Good for you.”

“How much do you want?” the demon asks. “How much are you being paid to kill me? I can double it. Triple it even.”

“Are you serious?” he groans. “I don’t do this for the money.”

The demon looks him up and down. “That’s obvious.”

“Watch it.” He points the guns at its head, and the demon shrinks back a bit.

“I want to pay you! I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams! You’d never have to slaughter the innocents like me again!” Dante snorts as it tilts its head. “You can’t possibly like doing this.”

He cocks the hammer on each gun. “Not about liking it. About paying the bills.”

The demon gives an annoyed huff. “This is what I’m saying. I can make you rich. I can buy you whatever you want. There’s got to be something you’d rather be doing than this. Would you like a mansion? A yacht? How about a palace?”

Dante chuckles to himself, but admits it’s almost tempting. Suppose this demon has some fortune granting power? He tries to think of himself as some fancy millionaire and fails. To be honest, all he would really want is a nice house and a nicer bike. Maybe work on engines, build things? Meet a pretty girl with a sharp wit and killer smile and settle down, like Nero and Kyrie have.

“This is stupid,” he says. “Not gonna happen.”

“So why do you do it?” it asks. “There must be something a god of fortune can give you for one tiny, little favor.”

Dante growls under his breath, his patience out. “I’m a devil hunter because I’ve been hunted by demons my whole life,” he snaps. “Ever since you fuckers came down on my house when I was a kid, killed my family, and then made my life miserable. Getting paid is just a bonus.”

“Hmmm.” A tentacle slithers out and taps on the demon’s cheek, as if it is thinking. “Did that make you sad?”

“What?”

“Did losing your family and all that make you sad?”

“What the hell? Of course it did!” Dante snaps. “But I don’t see why—”

“So you wouldn’t be a demon hunter if they hadn’t died, is that it?” The demon’s voice trails off, and Dante frowns. “I can grant you a fortune that has nothing to do with money. Would you like your family back?”

He grits his teeth, anger starting to bubble. “Shut the hell up.”

The demon bares its teeth in a grotesque smile. “Done.”

The floor gives way, and Dante shouts as he falls, firing upwards. He gets a glance of the demon waving to him just moments before he lands headfirst on the concrete and the world goes black.

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The squeak of the shower turning on wakes him. Dante opens his eyes and immediately regrets it, pain piercing his temples like an ice pick to the brain. “Damn it,” he sighs, reaching up to rub his forehead.

The ceiling is white, not the faded yellow of his place, so he figures he must be at Nero’s. Damn, did the kid have to find him and save his ass? He’ll never live this down, and as he stretches his stiff limbs he sighs and closes his eyes again.

He remembers the warehouse and the demons, and Nero getting separated. Then he had found the head at the top of the building and it had… asked him about his family? Dante frowns, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. Demons are getting fucking weirder by the day.

He enjoys the few minutes of quiet until the shower turns off. Dante sighs, moving to roll over and sit up. Either Nero or Kyrie are in there, so he figures he’ll go downstairs and give them privacy, but when he sits up he notices two things. First, he’s in just his boxers, which is weird because that means Nero undressed him. Also, he doesn’t own boxers, preferring to let his junk ride free, knowing the ladies liked how it looked in tight denim.

Second, their bedroom is way different than it was. He’s been there a few times but he helped Nero paint the house and their bedroom was definitely green. Dante remembers this because Nero had bitched about the color to him because he couldn’t to Kyrie. But the bedroom is now a soft shade of blue, and he wonders if the kid finally confessed that the color sage reminded him of puke.

The door to the bathroom opens and a woman walks out wrapped in a towel. He blinks when it’s immediately obvious it is not Kyrie: this one is shorter, slimmer, her platinum hair almost white like his and falling in a trendy bob style at her shoulders. The woman takes no notice of him, moving to a set of drawers and opening the top one.

“Uh, excuse me?” Dante says.

The woman looks over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Who are you?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Har har, very funny.” She goes back to pulling out clothes and says, “I know I said I’d never work on a Saturday, but Jenny’s kid is sick and I didn’t have the heart to make her come in. But I promise it’s only a half shift, and I’ll be home by two.”

That doesn’t answer his question at all, but before he can point that out she drops the towel. Dante spins quickly, his heart pounding as he yanks the sheet up over his lap, hissing, “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’m covering for Jenny. It’ll be easy enough for a Saturday. It’s a nice day out, nobody goes to the library when it’s sunny.” Dante peeks over to see her thankfully wearing a bra and panties, which he stares at for a moment before remembering he shouldn’t be staring. He looks down at his own lack of clothes and frowns, wondering if it’s her house he slept in. Does that mean they had sex? Maybe he and Nero made it to the bar after all and he got lucky?

Not bad, he thinks as he looks back to where she is shimmying on a pair of jeans. She’s cute enough at least, gorgeous even, although he wishes he could remember her name. “Hey, uh—”

“Don’t forget to be ready by five,” she says, rolling on deodorant. Then she glances over at him and frowns. “You okay?”

“No. Yes. Sorry, five?”

Dante frowns and she laughs. “Yes. Reservations are at five-thirty and you know if we’re a minute late your brother will start complaining.”

That gets his attention, and Dante feels the blood drain from his face. “My… brother?”

“Yes. It’s your parents’ anniversary. Remember?” Dressed now, she runs a brush through her hair as she sighs. “Please tell me you didn’t forget. This has been planned for weeks.”

Dante jumps up and stalks towards her, pulling the brush from her hand and grabbing her elbow to turn her. She only comes up to about his shoulders, and his expression goes menacing as he glares down at her surprised one. “What do you know about my parents?”

“Dante, what in the world? What is wrong with you?” The concern in her voice tempers him a bit, and she pulls her arm away to press a palm to his cheek. She examines his eyes closely as she asks, “Are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head or something? You look strange.”

“I…” I fell, he wants to say, but she brushes his jaw gently. “Why don’t you take it easy today? You’ll have the whole house to yourself. Get some coffee and just relax, and when I get home we’ll see how you feel, okay?”

Did losing your family and all that make you sad? Where did that come from? “What about my parents?” he asks again harshly.

She takes a steady breath. “It’s the thirteenth. Their fiftieth wedding anniversary. We’re all going out to dinner to celebrate.” Then she rubs his arm gently, and it’s then that he notices the band on her ring finger. His eyes go wide, and startled, he looks at his own left hand, where a matching gold band sits on his fourth finger.

His blood is pounding in his ears so loudly he barely hears her goodbye. “Just stay home and relax,” she says, and when she reaches up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek it pulls Dante back to the present.

He watches her walk through the room and grab her purse just as she reaches the door. Then he is left blinking as the door shuts, the sound of his raging heartbeat still thundering in his ears.

#dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante sparda #dmc vergil #dmc nero #dmc fanfiction #fanfiction #the wish

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