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badgerbl00d · 1 year

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one piece boys confessing their feelings

☆ characters: zoro, mihawk

☆ up next: what are we? (law x reader)

☆ a/n: my two favorite swordsmen.. i didn't realize how much i missed writing for zoro so definitely expect more marimo content in upcoming posts. enjoy lovelies!

zoro

“Let’s go fishing, Usopp,” Luffy laughed, “Oi! Zoro! Wanna fish with us? I heard there’s Sea Kings in these waters!”

Zoro waved a hand in Luffy’s direction to dissent, though he wasn’t really paying attention to anything happening around him.

A third bottle of beer found its way into the hands of the scarred swordsman, and was happily chugged within seconds.

His head was buzzing, though not from alcohol.

He was nervous.

He wiped his sweaty palms against his shirt for the umpteenth time that night, trying to work up a sense of courage.

To his satisfaction, no one else had seemed to notice his behavior,

You were flipping through a magazine with Nami, suntanning in the tiniest bikini he’d ever seen.

He couldn’t think straight when you were around and he really needed to- now more than ever.

For weeks now he’d been trying to think of how to admit his feelings to you- a harder feat for him than most.

To completely let down every wall he’d spent years and years building up for even just a moment or two of vulnerability.

He’d come close to telling you several times already, and he was pretty sure he might have let something slip before when he was drunk, leading to more than one awkward morning after. He’d avoid you, beat himself up over it, get drunk again that night to forget anything ever happened, and repeat the night before.

It was a disaster.

“You know,” Sanji had said one particularly awkward morning after- more to himself than Zoro, “You’d have a better shot if you didn’t ignore her completely the morning after a horrendously drunk and half-assed confession.”

Zoro had ignored him and stormed out to cut something in half but his advice- if you could call it that- stuck with him.

So here he was now, looking for a quiet place so he could rehearse what he was going to say.

What did he want to say? He paced back and forth, muttering lines he’d written down from movies or famous love quotes.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” he’d tried, turning towards a mirror to see how he looked.

Absolutely not. You’d definitely read that book.

“You have bewitched me body and soul- No. No way, I’m not saying that.”

He crushed the piece of paper in his fist and opted to take a nap and have a drink, failproof support systems that had yet to fail him.

“I don’t know, Nami,” you said, “I mean he’s been drunk every single time and it’s starting to really piss me off.

It’s like… every time I’m stupid enough to believe it! Even though I know he’s drunk he gets so sincere for a moment or two and says stuff like ‘You're really beautiful you know that?’ or ‘I feel… a connection with you’. And I’m dumb enough to believe it every damn time.”

“And then he ignores you the next day and pretends nothing happened.”

“Yeah. It’s so weird though, ‘cause I swear- it’s like he gets possessed by rationality and calm in the midst of being a drunken idiot and he says these things with such intent! It’s jarring. I mean he goes from a moron to a Jane Austen romantic hero. What the hell is that?”

“I mean, no offense,” Nami started, your stomach churned with dread before she could even continue, “But maybe he’s just.. you know, trying to hook up. Drop some half assed compliments and hope that’s enough to get him laid.”

An uncomfortable feeling of sadness swallowed you whole. You sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

“I know. I don’t think he’s lying about the attraction, but it would save me a lot of grief if he was just straightforward. That way I could just hook up with him and get it over with.”

Nami laughed, “Gross! You know he showers like once a week right?”

“I can fix him,” you said, laughing with her.

The boys had caught a mountain of fish and sea creatures, so Sanji had promised you all a feast.

Brook had started playing before the sun had set and Robin and Franky were dancing.

You played some beer pong with Luffy and Usopp, while Nami helped Sanji in the kitchen.

You loved nights like these, but as much as you wanted to enjoy yourself you knew that with parties and fun came booze.

And with booze came a certain drunken swordsman promising you sweet nothings.

You tried to focus on the game but were getting badly beat.

You walked into the kitchen to sit with Nami who was sipping on a piña colada, special treatment from Sanji, of course.

“Make me one too Sanji-kun! Please,” you asked.

He gladly obliged.

The three of you talked and laughed while Sanji cooked, enjoying the music and sight of the younger boys playing with Chopper.

The kitchen door swung open and in walked Zoro, who had been very clearly napping. His hair was matted in some places and his eyes still carried the sag of someone who’d been involuntarily woken up from a nap.

“Smelled food,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

You finished your drink and got up out of your seat.

“Leaving, Y/n?” Sanji asked.

Zoro turned to look at you, like he was about to say something.

“Uh, yeah, I’m gonna go read for a bit. Thank you for the food!”

Nami shot you a sympathetic look and waved bye to you.

Zoro sighed, not totally oblivious to the timing of his entrance and your departure.

Sanji and Nami glared at him.

He rolled his eyes at them, “I’ll fix it.”

And he walked out to join Luffy.

Amidst the general excitement that had spread itself throughout the crew over the course of the night was Zoro who was making his way toward the crow’s nest, in hopes of finding you.

You were tucked into a corner of the room, reading a book.

Your knees were up on the sofa and you seemed to be nearly asleep.

He felt somewhat guilty interrupting you.

But it was now or never.

He walked in, not saying anything.

You sat up, closing your book.

Your stomach was in a knot.

The swordsman sat next to you, close enough that his knee touched yours.

He was sitting up straighter than usual, and seemed restless, fidgeting with his hands until he finally set his left hand on top of your right one that was resting beside you.

Your eyes widened, you were surprised by this, but didn’t say anything.

“Y/n, can I tell you something? I’ve been meaning to for a while but I- Well, I’ve never done anything like this before so I fucked it up. More than once. So I’m going to fix it right now.”

You nodded hesitantly, caught somewhat off-guard by his unusual behavior.

“I love you.”

Your heart stopped.

Everything around you momentarily stopped as your brain tried to catch up to speed with everything that had just happened.

In an instant you were suddenly hyper-aware of everything- the strong pulse of your heartbeat, the sweat that had gathered on your palms, how you felt suspended in both motion and time as he sat waiting for some kind of response.

But you knew Zoro, and recognized that rosy glow on his cheeks. You knew that when he approached you after midnight with unusual confidence and gusto, on a night when you’d all been celebrating.

How he always sat next to you, closer and closer every time, this time placing his hand on top of yours.

You broke eye contact to look down at your hands.

“I love you, too,” you chose to interpret it as a friendly drunken slip-up, “Make sure you tell everyone else that you love them too, or they’ll get jealous.”

You turned back to your book, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, covering it up with an unconvincing smile.

“No.”

You turned, confused, “N-no?”

“I meant it.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him.

“I love you.”

The air around the two of you was completely stagnant, full of tension.

He’d done this before; gotten drunk, been suddenly affectionate and touchy, and then acted completely normal the next day, even ignoring you when you tried to talk to him about it.

You weren’t going to let it happen again.

Scoffing, you brushed him off, moving your hand out from under his.

“You’re drunk,” you said, trying to ignore the disappointment that had started to spread throughout your body, “Why don’t you get some water? Or bread? But don’t do this to me again.”

You got up and placed your book down, ready to make your way to your room and try and forget anything had happened, like he would.

A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

Zoro stood up behind you and turned you around to face him.

“I’m not drunk,” he started, “Last thing I’d want to do is ruin this with some kind of idiotic drunken rant. I-I want to remember this- I want you to remember this!

Everything about this- how damn cold it is up here, what you’re wearing, what I say to you, how it ends, everything.”

His hands were squeezing your shoulders, and his stare was full of an intensity you couldn’t have reciprocated if you tried.

You’d seen him before in battle- swords drawn, back hunched, and eyes settled onto his victim like a hungry animal.

But this was different, it was vulnerable. He was being weak in front of you.

He took a deep breath.

You had never felt so focused in your life, your eyes were intently set on his and your brows furrowed in concentration as you took in everything about this moment.

“I love you! I love you and- and I don’t mean it the way we say it to each other in battle, or as crewmates.

I hate that! I hate calling you my crewmate, my friend, my companion.

You are!

You are, but I hate that that’s all I can call you.

So I came to you to tell you that I love you.

Entirely.”

He brought his hands down to interlace them with yours.

“I love you,” he said again, this time bending down slightly to level his eyesight with yours.

He looked at you with concern, lips slightly parted.

Your breath was shaky and you had unconsciously grabbed onto his forearms to stabilize yourself while you tried to process what was happening.

You stayed silent, your confusion as evident as his desperation.

Another few moments passed with no words exchanged, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath- waiting for you to say anything.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your mind racing through the millions of different things you wanted to say.

How dare you? Are you serious? I love you too! I never want to talk to you again. I love you too! What happens now?

Zoro’s grip on your shoulders softened and his shoulders sunk. A look of disappointment settled itself onto his stoic features and he let go of you, in a kind of heartbroken acceptance.

He nodded, more to himself than you.

“Goodnight,” he said, walking back out.

“Zoro- Zoro, wait! Wait, please.”

He stopped and turned around- Were those tears in his eyes?

“I love you, too,” you said, in a much calmer tone than expected, “I have since I set foot on this ship, since I first saw you. I love you.”

His eyes widened and he picked you up in his arms, wrapping them around your waist as you sunk into his chest hugging him back with all the force you could muster.

He spun you around, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

You cried into his chest, and felt a tear or two fall onto your forehead when you looked up at him as he finally set you down.

“I thought that- I thought I’d fucked everything up and that-”

Zoro was rambling, his hands holding onto you again, with a grip that reassured you he didn’t want to let go.

You interrupted him by crashing your lips into his, sending him reeling backwards.

He landed on the floor, one arm breaking the fall and the other wrapped around you.

You straddled him and deepened the kiss bringing your hands to rest on his chest as he pulled you closer into his body.

The two of you kissed and kissed, pulling away only when you were desperate for breath, before resuming again.

When you were finally tired enough, you simply sat smiling like idiots at each other.

“I should’ve been honest with you months ago,” Zoro said, bringing a hand up to your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek.

You grabbed his forearm, leaning your cheek into his hold.

A smile spread out over your face.

“It’s okay, I knew.”

mihawk

He’d been dreading it for weeks- months, even.

Never in his life did he think that he’d find himself in a position of having to stay on Red Hair’s ship, but here he was. Sat at a table on the deck, an overflowing pint of beer in his hand, and Red Haired pirates laughing and swearing and drinking on all sides of him. And then out of nowhere, there was you.

They told him you’d been part of the crew for 5 months now, a rookie pirate in need of a ship and some stability and had found your way onto the Red Force after winning several games of poker against Shanks.

He’d had an eye on you from the moment you walked out onto the deck, in a pair of deliciously short shorts and a tank top that hugged your curves in the most alluring way he’d ever seen.

You poured yourself a pint and played a game of blackjack with members of the crew whose name’s he didn’t know, or care to know.

He sat with Shanks and the other officers in the crew.

“She’s somethin’, isn’t she?” Shanks asked, laughing as he took note of his friend’s interest in you, much to his evident annoyance.

“I suppose I just didn’t think a woman like that would be on a crew like yours, Red Hair.”

“Neither did we,” Benn chimed in, earning a playful nudge from his captain.

A sudden eruption of noise diverted their attention towards the betting table you were sitting at.

You were smiling, graciously accepting your winnings from your crewmates who were alleging cheating.

“There’s only four jacks in a deck!”

“I saw her hand moving!”

“She was card counting!”

Yasopp laughed and called you over, “Before they start swinging!”

You approached their table, weaving your way toward them through your drunk and rowdy crewmates, before taking a seat next to Mihawk, who was clearly uneasy with your presence.

What was he supposed to do? He felt a strange desire to make a good impression on you, and realized part of him was hoping to form a friendship. His stomach churned at the unusual feeling.

“Didn’t think I’d ever meet a legend like yourself,” you’d said to him, as you extended your hand, “Y/n, pleasure to meet you.

You’re a lot less scary in person! And a lot more handsome.”

You smelled like cherries and whiskey, sweet and addicting.

He took your hand, despite his embarrassment at your compliments and against his better judgment followed up with, “Likewise.”

Shanks whistled, and put his arm around the swordsman’s shoulders, “Never seen you flirt before!”

The table laughed and you asked Benn for a cigarette, bending over to let him light it for you.

“Calm down, Shanks,” you said as you puffed a small cloud of smoke, “No one’s flirting.”

He felt his chest tighten slightly, had you not been flirting? He wasn’t experienced but he figured that you had at least professed some kind of interest.

You turned to look at him and winked.

His chest tightened again.

Lucky had started another card game, and you played as you talked. Mihawk asked about your life before piracy- a story for another time, you’d told him. He talked about details of his life that were unknown even to Shanks- small things like his garden at home, his favorite things to cook, and even certain details of his warlord duties. It was unlike him to share anything with anyone, but the way you stared up at him batting your big doe eyes with a cigarette hanging lazily from your plump glossy lips… he found himself unable to resist the urge to keep you interested in his presence.

The noise of the ship eventually faded into the background, the talking and laughing melting into their own conversations.

Hours passed and eventually music started playing, some other new crew members that had brought their instruments on board with them.

“We finally have some good musicians, don’t we Y/n?” Shanks asked.

“Mhmm,” you replied, looking through your cards barely paying him any attention. You tapped your feet rhythmically against the floor, humming along to the quick paced flamenco melody that was playing.

“Do you dance, swordsman?” you asked, turning to look at Mihawk.

You heard Shanks groan in the background.

“Occasionally.”

You set your cards down, face up, revealing a winning hand. The rest of the table threw their cards down in frustration.

“Will you do me the honors?”

A rare smile settled onto his face. He offered his hand to help you up out of your chair, and you guided him to a more open area on the deck. He placed a hand on your waist, and you took a guilty pleasure in how unyielding his grip was against you. You could feel the pads of each of his fingers holding onto your soft skin, and trailed your hand up to his face, lightly tracing a finger down the side of his neck before resting your hand on his shoulder.

People whistled and clapped.

“Keep up,” you said.

“I’ll try.”

He appreciated your warning, you were like a different person when dancing. The cool, calculated demeanor you adopted when playing cards with your poker face perfected and your breathing steady and even, was completely washed over by a fiery intent to move.

He did struggle to keep up at first, you slipped through his hold like water, your feet moving and landing between and around him like a downpour of rain.

He managed to match your tempo- catch the tail end of your movements and proved a worthy partner, but he didn’t come close to matching your mastery of the art.

By the time the song was finished beads of sweat dripped down his neck, and his heart was pounding loud enough that he could barely hear the cheering coming from the other pirates.

He wanted to give you the credit of wearing someone of his caliber out, he could take on a hundred men and barely increase his heart rate.

This was different though- the beating in his chest, the excitement in his belly, the way his eyes clung to your figure as though attached with string. He couldn’t get enough of you, he inhaled smelling your perfume again.

Another smile settled onto his face, one of satisfaction.

Three week had passed and Mihawk was grabbing the last of his things- a photo of the two of you you’d forced him to take. It was of you pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Shanks lightly knocked on his door.

“Sure you don’t want to stay another week?” he asked, awkwardly standing by the door.

“That’s what you came to ask?”

Shanks rubbed the back of his neck, “No, it’s actually about Y/n.”

This caught his attention.

“What about her?”

“Well,” Shanks walked over to sit on the bed, “I think you should talk to her before you leave, tell her how ya feel.”

“How I… feel? And how exactly do you think I feel?”

“C’mon man, it’s obvious- No offense. The way you two look at each other? You danced with her. In front of people.”

The swordsman scoffed, but didn’t disagree and chose to maintain his silence as he packed the rest of his clothes.

“She likes ya, Hawk-eye. I think you knew that though.

Don’t say anything if you’re gonna hurt her.”

He got up and gave him a friendly pat on the back before heading back out, “We’re headed to a bar right now, so you’ll have the ship to yourself. Take care of her!”

It was unclear whether he was talking about the ship or you.

Mihawk sighed, he adjusted the collar of his loosely fitting white shirt, and set out to find you.

You were in one of the common areas, one of the musicians was showing you how to play the guitar. Plucking at a few strings here and there, you laughed and sang, trying to play a song with your clearly limited ability.

Mihawk stood and watched you for a moment, before clearing his throat.

You turned, smiling when you saw him.

“What do you think? Good enough to dance to?”

He let out a light laugh, “Maybe in ten years.”

You smiled, plucking a few more strings before asking, “What brings you here? Shouldn’t you be packing?”

“I was hoping to speak with you for a moment,” he paused when you stayed put, “Alone.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh! Of course!”

You handed the guitar back to its owner, ignoring the whistles that followed you out of the room.

You took Mihawk’s arm and walked toward the deck, your stomach turning.

You stopped at the railing, leaning over it, trying to take deep breaths of the salty air to calm yourself.

What on Earth could he have to talk to you about? Shanks had promised not to say anything… Could he possibly-

“I’m… very appreciative of your company these past few weeks.

You’re a very intelligent, talented, beautiful woman, and I cannot think of a better companion with whom to have spent my time,” he started, interrupting your train of thought.

You softly smiled, a light breeze dancing around you both.

You said nothing and only looked up at him, unsure of how to pick up from where he left off.

Luckily, he continued, “You… You are a good friend. Of mine, I mean. And I hope that my departure from this ship won’t change our proximity.”

Friend. A dull, warm pain ebbed in your chest.

It wasn’t sharp like a direct rejection would have been, it felt more like a heavy rock had been gently placed right on your heart.

You nodded, looking out toward the ocean when you felt some tears well up in your lash line.

Blinking them away you turned back toward him suddenly emboldened by the memory of how he held you that night when you danced.

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but can I ask if you hold me in any higher regard than that of a friend?”

He was silent. Color rushed to his cheeks and he stared down at you. His eyes were undersold in legend. To say they were hypnotizing was a disservice. They were compelling- when you made eye contact with him your entire being longed to be with him.

“I do.”

You exhaled, tension lifting itself from your shoulders.

“I like you, swordsman,” you gently wrapped your hands around his, bringing his hand up to your chest, placing it against the left side, “I’ll miss dancing with you. Please visit. Please don’t forget me.”

In a sudden motion, Mihawk wrapped you into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around your shoulders as he pressed you into him.

You wiggled your arms free and quickly reciprocated the hug.

You breathed in a long, long inhale, and as you exhaled sunk even further into him.

“I’ll visit,” he promised, “I’ll write. I’ll call- I’ll think of you always. You’re quite unforgettable, you know?”

You laughed and looked up to him as his hold on you softened.

You inched yourself up onto the tips of your toes, hovering your lips just slightly over his.

A smile creeped onto his face, and his hands dispersed across your body, one grabbing onto your ass- something he’d longed to do since the first moment he saw you. The other hand wrapped around your waist to provide you support.

You brought your hands to the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him toward you.

His lips closed around yours, and you deepened the kiss- pulling him closer into you, your tongues swiping at each other as you closed your eyes and indulged.

You inhaled each other- the taste of wine and mint flooding your mouth, the smell of his cologne overwhelming your senses.

The strong grip he had on your ass was so deliciously indulgent.

You let out a soft moan into his mouth before you pulled away from one another.

He tucked some stray hair behind your ears, and you gently wiped some of your gloss from his bottom lip.

“I’ve been waiting for that for weeks now.”

He picked you up, making his way toward your room, peppering your face and neck with kisses and you laughed and kissed him back.

“Let me make it up to you, hermosa.”

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judeyswife · 3 months

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not what i’m looking for. — jude bellingham x reader. II

genre : angst

word count : 928

note : hii lovies, this is official part two of the series not what im looking for !!! (part one) please let me know of what yall think in the comments! there will be a part 3 guys so don't worry, but it'll probs be a wrap up for this mini series since i want to get started on some other fics too + made a few format changes and writing from author's pov this time -- but thats it! enjoyyy! requests box always open !!

‏‏‎ ‎ ———————————————————-‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎ ‏‏‎ ‎

"i'm sorry"

it's horrendous how fast people switch up. or i'd say men, in this case. it's been roughly about six months since that conversation had happened. it was honestly one of the worst days in your whole life. i mean, yeah you'll get through it. but why? every once in a while you think about what did she have that you didn't.

but this is a topic that hasn't been brought up in about a month. and a certain individual isn't mentioned anymore in your life thank the lord.

you have gone to a beach house near where you live with a few of your best friends, layla, jess, and liv. yall needed this vacation after months of torture. or studying.

they've been with you since day one. truthfully you'd say who needs a relationship when you have your homegirls?

"Y/N, come here right fucking now." -- layla screamed from our room in the house.

you could literally think she had been getting murdered with the way she was screaming honestly.

"oh my god what!"

"whats his name posted a fucking video of missing someone LOOK."

who? jude.

you sit next to her curiously taking her phone from her hands in order for you to take a look at the tiktok she was trying to show you.

( for the sake of the story, jude has tiktok xoxo )

you were shocked. who genuinely who would've though that he'd actually miss us? it didn't even sound right thinking about it.

"maybe it's about her layla" you shrugged getting up to grab your water bottle from her desk.

"are you stupid girl, he's obviously thinking about you, i mean look at his caption." - 'didn't think a situationship could hurt more than an actual relationship' don't be a fool y/n"

liv and jess had entered the room a few minutes ago listening to the conversation making liv enter the conversation.

"ain't no way he has the nerve to do that bullshit on social media"

you stood there listening to them diss jude for about 5 minutes straight. but your lost in your thoughts. i mean, why would he ever miss something he supposedly never had? it's genuinely so draining and confusing.

"guys just drop it, its whatever. lets just go hang out at the hot tub, i really fucking need it"

your friends just looked at one another not saying a single word. they knew better. not to make you sound like a maniac or anything, but they knew how you were with bottling up your feelings. jude was a sensitive topic for you. they didn't want to be the cause of ruining your vacation over some dumb tiktok captions. they simply agreed with you and started getting changed to go out the the hot tub.

•

it had been a few hours since you last seen your phone and you're now inside getting ready to have dinner with the girls and settling down. so you took these few moments, unlocked your phone and checked out what you had missed.

you furrowed your eyebrows trying to figure out who this number could possibly belong to. since you and layla are sharing a room for the trip, she was getting ready at her vanity and noticed your confused expression.

"y/n what's up?" -- asking you meanwhile putting a face mask on.

"i don't know, this random number just texted me with my name i'm just hella confused"

"that's weird. ask who it is obviously"

you nodded listening to what she had advised you to do.

you had this conversation silently without saying a word to layla about who this "mystery person" was. mainly because you wanted to fight your own battles. i mean you basically already had jess and liv involved. not that your mad at them or anything, you know they want what's best for you. clearly they're on team jude. those girls.

"who was it?" layla said getting up from her chair to grab her phone from the charger near her bed. "no one important, they got the wrong number and person" you honestly don't know how she believed you. you hate to admit but you were feeling jittery after having that conversation with jude after so long. even if it was barely a conversation.

you hated that you needed to lie to layla, but you truly believed it was honestly for the best. when you and jude were talking, they knew every single detail about the relationship you had with jude. and by they i mean your friends and his friends. always involved. one of the main issues why miscommunication was lacking horribly in your relationship. so that's why you want a new beginning. not just to "lie" to your friends but to feel the sense of control in your life. even if tomorrow was the last conversation you had with jude, you wanted to keep the moment to yourself.

•

without saying a word to anyone, you and jude had been chatting it up all night. just a catch up with each other. you guys went from telling every detail of your day to each other, to not saying a single word for months to each other. it felt nice being able to slowly regain that comfort you once had when you guys would text or facetime all night long.

you were honestly praying for the best in tomorrow's conversation, you had no idea what it could lead up to.

but the overthinking was done on your pillow all night long, plus his texts of course.

#Spotify #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fan fic #jude bellingham one shot #bellingham x reader #football x reader #bellingham angst #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham angst #footballer x reader #football fanfic #football angst #real madrid #judeyswife

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orbitswritings · 1 year

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human!jake sully/fem!human reader Neteyam fic is still in works, I just wanted to take a break and push myself to quickly write something in a few hours without worrying about beta readers. so here’s something really self-indulgent that i had kicking around in my brain. let me know if i should continue (i mean i do want to i just like hearing other people say it) synopsis: reader works as a pencil pusher for the RDA and finds herself in a relationship with human!Jake Sully. Their relationship is on the rocks when Jake suddenly becomes a traitor for the Na’vi, forgetting about reader. unfortunately, she’s left in a position where she cannot forget about him.

(feat. Jake the dog and reader the human) c/w warning: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut. and jake’s kinda an asshole for now

The last time you saw Jake was right before he turned traitor.

His visits with you were already getting more and more spared, spaced out as the months went on. In the beginning of his deployment to Pandora you two were nearly inseparable, literally, wrapped in a tangled mess of blankets in your private quarters.

You were just a pencil-pusher and file manager, tasked with handling the never-ending information and data from several departments of the RDA. One day when delivering a stack of legal papers to the lead scientist Grace, the man seated in a wheelchair next to her, named Jake Sully, took an immediate interest. You did as well, although yours was more based on wanting to know why a buff marine guy in a wheelchair was doing around the other nerdy scientists. Jake’s was more coming from below the belt.

One night while laying in bed together after a session of sex, your hand aimlessly began running up and down his arms. His biceps used to be the size of your head, now he looked frail, malnourished. His body was practically wasting away. Jake now had been at least two months into his whole Na’vi thing. Yet you didn’t know any details since he was pretty tight-lipped about it all.

“Are you getting enough rest? Do you eat enough?” You asked with concern, stroking the hair out of his sweaty face. Jake had initially arrived on Pandora with the traditional military buzzcut, but now his hair had grown out, further adding to his ragged, disheveled appearance. “If not, I can write up a document for the food storage guys to give mor-” Jake just shrugged you off, turning away from you with a grunt of “mh fine.”

You’d later realize Jake was just using you to empty out all the cum and sexual frustration he would build up while gone. Word among the staff was the female Na’vi he’d been frolicking around with over the course of the few months was proving to be a tease. Unable to stomach thinking about what he was getting up to, you instead threw yourself into your work, trying to ignore the horrendous thoughts that clouded your mind.

You wish you had the guts to confront him on what would ultimately end up being your last night together, but you were just too lonely and so happy to see him after such a long time apart that you kept your mouth shut and legs open. All to just save the moment. Next time, though, you told yourself you would confront him.

That next time never came. In that time Jake Sully and his crew knocked over the chess board, turned traitor and proceeded to fuck over everyone. The plug on the whole operation was pulled, sending everyone packing onto their ships. Well, everyone except a few of his other human allies . . . . and you.

Not that he specifically asked for you to stay on Pandora. In fact you were sure he never even gave you a thought. What happened was when all the humans were being rounded up, you managed to slip off, going into hiding. There was a small, abandoned outpost, its existence having falling out of everyone else’s minds except yours, only being known by you due to your various dealings with files. It was similar to the one Jake and his gang had been stationed to in the Himalayan mountains, difference being luck for you it was within a day of hiking distance. There, you had everything you needed (for the time being). Filtered air, canned foods, jugs of water.

But why not go with the other humans? Being put into a tube of jelly for another five years and sent back to a dying planet with your sizable paycheck waiting for you in the mail was still miles better than sitting alone in some rundown old trailer on an alien planet where everything and anything can and will kill you, all the while slowly picking away at your limited rations.

It was simple. You weren’t alone, and your growing waistline was ever so slowly revealing it. Apparently the very last time you and Jake saw each other he was kind enough to leave you with a little going away gift, entirely unbeknownst to the either of you. The cheap condoms the company supplied did have an expiration date wasn’t to be taken lightly, but Jake had been out playing Na’vi for so long he completely forgot to grab new ones.

It was a hard rule that babies couldn’t be put in cryo, and being pregnant while in cryo lacked a lot of research for any factual statements but generally it was advised to avoid it. At that point you weren’t far along at all so either you were going to be tubed, putting both you and your baby at risk, or be forced to terminate.

Of course Jake couldn’t help you. He was too busy playing blue outlaw cowboy, rounding up the remaining RDA humans to ship them back to Earth.

But now, supplies were running low, and you knew this whole ‘pregnant while solo’ thing wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. Carrying was already hard enough. Giving birth alone was more of a horror movie plot than something you actually wanted to try out for yourself. So, you made the decision to finally bite the bullet, hook up the radio, and put out a signal to the other remaining scientists.

That same night you got a response back, the scientists on the other end both very surprised that another human was still on Pandora. They already knew you and so conclude you weren’t a die-hard RDA fan, making you not a threat to their operation. In the end, a helicopter was sent your way.

You were so grateful and relieved they agreed to come get you, you just wished they had told you Norm was going to be in his avatar form when picking you up. You nearly pissed your pants from the shock and blood-chilling fear that coursed through you when a gigantic blue alien suddenly appeared, peeking through your window.

The bump of your stomach acted as an elephant in the room, everyone on the helicopter doing their best to avoid looking directly at it as if doing so would cause permanent vision damage.

It wasn’t like they knew it was Jake’s, believing you two had ended your little fling long before the possible frame of conception, so that awkward topic was luckily avoided. Of course not all hard topics were off limits. They still asked you why you were here on Pandora, the unsubtle hint being they thought they had successfully chased out all the other dirty greedy humans from their prized forest playground. You were honest and gave them your reasoning, hoping it would squash any fears of other RDA agents lurking out there. They nodded in quiet understanding. You wanted to ask about Jake, how he was, but the fear of it possibly raising any sort of questions made you bite your tongue.

#jake sully x reader #avatar x reader #avatar imagine #avatar 2009 #jake sully #weird cliffhanger to leave off of but im tired and i wanna sleep

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kingdomofred · 1 month

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Burn & Burn Again (Male Yandere!Writer x GN!Reader)

feat. Sun Vasileiou Nevrakis

♡ pt.6, approx. 600 words | prev. | next.

♡ post-specific warnings: n/a | series warnings: yandere themes, reader is a horrendous flirt

♡ a/n: this is purely a work of fiction. yandere behaviour in real life is a cause of concern. unedited, not proofread.

♡♡♡

“You don't have to explain yourself,” you say, over the steam rising from your mug. Somehow, you had winded up sitting down, and it was less that Sun was persuasive — which he was — and more that you couldn't stand seeing that shattered expression on his face. Something akin to a kicked puppy, and who could really ever say no to a look like that? All that being said, you were still slightly bitter and ruffled from the events of the day.

Sun bit his lip, his cup abandoned on the coffee table between the two of you. “I wasn't planning to.”

Your eyebrow twitched. You stood by your prior statement, of course, but you weren't expecting Sun to be so blunt about it. Perhaps it annoyed you just the slightest, although he continued speaking before you could say anything to retort.

“Not because I don't want to,” he scratched the back of his hand, refusing to meet your gaze. “I just can't. It's stupid because even though I write for a living, I can't find the words to explain my feelings for the life of me.” He let out a small, self-deprecating laugh and you watched him as he ran a hand through his hair.

Jostled inky locks falling over streaks of blonde, and his eyes seemed clouded like his mind wasn't really there. You faintly recalled what he said to you when you'd arrived.

Writing started as an outlet for his anger, so perhaps now, he had a hard time expressing any emotions that weren't anger. It could be the case that he hadn't really meant to snap at you. Seeing how frustrated he was getting over it, and how quick he was to apologise and rush to retrieve you, you really wanted to believe that.

“Y/N,” he called your name, sounding resolute, “I want to make this work with you. I really do.”

You acknowledged that with a nod, taking a sip from your mug. It warmed your throat as it went down. Subconsciously, you noted that Sun made spectacular drinks.

“And I know I'm the problem here. You've done nothing but accept me. It's just,” Sun sighed, and slumped, “difficult.” Quieter, he said, “...but I want to change. I like whatever we have. I don't want you to get tired of me. I'm scared.”

There was the truth.

You thought you'd done a good job of reassuring him, but that was a stupid assumption on your part. Rarely, were someone's tumultuous thoughts overturned by a few words offered in passing.

A simple promise of ‘I'd never leave you,’ only gained weight with time. Something you had to talk into existence, becoming believable as you repeated it: ‘I'd never leave you,’ after they cried, ‘I'd never leave you,’ when they crumbled, ‘I'd never leave you,’ while they smiled. In their anger and insecurity, and their passion and pride.

Although, time could only run its course, and you could only wait for it. Until then, you had action. Until he believed you, you would stay. After, too.

You took a chance, placing your cup down and moving to sit beside him on the other sofa. One arm over his waist, and the other around his shoulders, you tugged him to you. His head buried into your neck, your fingers smoothing through his hair. No more words were said. No more words were needed. The two of you sat like that for the longest time.

#redw.rites #redw.ritesocs #redw.ritesyandere #redw.ritessfw #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #gn reader #yandere oc #oc #my ocs #reader insert #male yandere #male oc #male!oc #yan x reader

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saintsenara · 10 months

Text

author self-recommendation

thank you so much for the tag (quite a long time in the past...) @ashesandhackles!

when you get this, reply with your five favourite fics that you've written. then pass it on to five other writers. spread some self love.

did i laugh at self love? the answer is yes.

these are my five (and by five i mean six) favourite complete fics - obviously i’m sufficiently fond of my wips to keep coming back to them, no mean feat for someone with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder - and i’m hyped to get to showcase them.

bookbinding

tom riddle/myrtle warren teen | 35k words

lord voldemort and moaning myrtle in a rom-com - and especially a rom-com with a happy ending - may not appear to be the instinctive response to a prompt from @ladiesofhpfest asking for heartthrobs and heartaches. and yet, when i started writing it i couldn’t stop. my profound affection for dear old tom marvolo riddle is well known, but i’ve also always been very fond of myrtle, and i really dislike the way she’s treated in the canon narrative - especially, as i’ve said before, the fact that she is one of the worst victims of jkr’s tendency to use a lack of conventional physical attractiveness (and, in particular, fatness) to indicate characters the reader is not supposed to root for.

i like the fact that the glimpses of myrtle we see in the series - when she’s not shrieking (behaviour, may i say, i find relatable) - show someone who has lots of admirable traits, which are only poorly expressed because she’s forever fourteen (can you imagine). she’s kind, she’s perceptive, she’s strong-willed, she’s sensitive, she’s assertive. on the other hand, she’s clearly very lonely, she can be extremely clingy, she’s unhappy at hogwarts, she’s insecure. she’s also someone with a bit of a cruel streak, who clearly understands the impulse to externalise one’s own self-loathing onto other people.

in other words, she’s tom’s dream girl. once she’s worn him down a bit.

i loved writing this, i made myself chuckle self-indulgently on multiple occasions, i have teared up at dozens of the comments i have received about it (someone made a reddit post recommending it at exactly the moment i was leaving a horrendous day at work and i was on the train howling like myrtle in her u-bend), and i like to imagine the two of them are still happy nonagenarians in some universe somewhere.

everlasting ink

harry potter/ginny weasley teen | 6k words

this was a gift for @whinlatter, because she is a sweetie-pie. it was also a gift for me - not only because it was lovely to write, but because it enabled me to indulge in one of my favourite emotions: spite.

i am on the record as not being a fan of hinny. there are several reasons for this, some sillier than others, but one major one is that harry’s idealisation of ginny within the seven book canon into a place of comfort and safety is pretty fucking condescending. harry never acknowledges in the text that ginny spends deathly hallows as a resistance leader in her own right, he's constantly trying to direct her away from the fighting despite acknowledging generally that she is a talented duellist, he associates her primarily with the safe-space of the burrow, he breaks up with her ‘for her own protection’ without offering her a choice in the matter, he doesn’t welcome her into his intensely co-dependent relationship with ron and hermione, and - and i think this really is the kicker - he's incredibly dismissive of her experience with tom riddle. indeed, harry separates the voldemort of canon out into two people: there’s tom, who is an orphan, and is hot, and whom harry pities; and there's voldemort, who has red eyes, no nose, and killed his parents. but ginny can’t have these two separate people in her head. the horror she experienced came at the hands of the pretty, charming, sympathetic voldemort - and harry really doesn’t get that. and sure, by the epilogue harry and ginny appear to have ended up in a happy, equal marriage. but the text never shows us how they get there, and i think it’s perfectly plausible to write stuff in which they don’t.

which is to say, i published an extremely tongue-in-cheek post saying this, and several hinny fans were amusingly passive-aggressive about it. undoubtedly they thought my position as a tomarry defender had scrambled my brain and i couldn’t see the beauty with which the complex parts of their favourite ship could be written.

so i did it. six thousand words on ginny and harry learning to function as a couple among the dust of war and grief, featuring ginny’s complicated feelings on how harry sees her, voldemort, being a daughter and a mother, relating to ron and hermione, heredity, love, and what being a family really means. i enjoyed writing it, and the chance it gave me to think from the other side about what hinny would need to work, how the characterisations of harry and ginny (and voldemort!) i typically write could be nuanced, and what trauma looks like in the immediate aftermath of the battle of hogwarts. and i also enjoyed writing it to prove that i could.

that i have received no reciprocal tomarry in return has been noted…

leather

nymphadora tonks/multiple explicit | 3k words

this was something which spiralled out of a conversation with @evesaintyves around the blind-spots many of us have as authors when thinking about sexuality and gender identity - and especially how those blind-spots become particularly pronounced when they come up against canon compliancy. initially, we were talking about hinny - and the fact that keeping them as end-game has absolutely no reason to prevent either of them identifying as queer, either of them exploring their sexuality or gender identity within their relationship, or, indeed, either of them still understanding themselves as cisgender by the time the epilogue takes place - but we then moved on to talking about tonks, and how the readably queer aspects of her canon characterisation (at least in order of the phoenix) are treated within many of the popular ships which feature her, and, in particular, how both her and lupin’s (potential) queerness is sometimes obscured within end-game remadora. there are numerous reasons for this, and the vast majority are - of course - the result of gentle, human fallibility rather than maliciousness, but it set me to thinking…

so here we have a canon-compliant look at tonks looking at herself, exploring her sexuality, becoming comfortable with her gender, and thinking about how her metamorphing would impact how she understands both of those things, shot through with the hedonistic paradise of the lesbian bar and the tight hold of leather.

lux aurumque

sirius black & james potter teen | 3.5k words

sirius’ last days of normality, before he is betrayed by wormtail, haunt me. the idea of this poor lad, who is absolutely convinced he’s pulled a blinder which will keep the man he loves safe - even if it results in his own death - having that certainty pulled out from under him is just devastating. no wonder he couldn’t stop laughing at the grim absurdity of it all as they carried him off to azkaban.

one of the things i find most fascinating about sirius as a character is how he embodies the value of choice - and, above all, how he does so far more than james, whose brief appearances in canon set him up as someone with a much more self-righteous certainty about the path he will take than his best friend. sirius chose to leave his family, and fight, and protect the potters, and he also made a choice which would prove to be disastrous and lives with the consequences.

so, here we have seven dawns which change sirius black - or, red and gold for the man who chose those colours and earned them several times over - featuring harry being a mashed potato fiend and maybe the tiniest bit of prongsfoot if you squint.

there’s basically no lupin though, because he is - i fear - irrelevant.

nor all that glisters gold

sirius black & bellatrix lestrange teen | 9k words

i am definitely a committed james & sirius (or james/sirius) girly, but another dynamic i love to explore is sirius’ relationship with his cousins, bellatrix chief among them. in fact, i always think that sirius’ choices become all the more impressive when we consider that he’s - let’s be honest - quite a lot like his dear and deranged relative. they have a shared arrogance, a shared ruthlessness, a shared deranged jealousy, a shared dogged loyalty, and a shared complicated relationship with their role in their family, which i can see leading to an incredibly intense and codependent friendship, despite their age gap, when sirius is a child.

but this, of course, is then utterly torn apart when sirius enters his teens. this piece asks why. is it just the inevitable drifting which happens when one of you is married and the other is in gryffindor? or is someone else the cause? the dark lord, perhaps?

remus lupin is once again irrelevant in this. sorry to him.

the shack at the end of the lane

merope gaunt & voldemort general | 4k words

death is something i think about a great deal. not because i’m unusually morbid - nor, at the risk of protesting too much, because i’m a killer - but because i’m a doctor, in a speciality where death - and often death in traumatic circumstances - is ever present. obviously, one way of coping with this involves quite a lot of dissociation from what’s in front of you, but another is trying to treat the dead with as much dignity as possible, which is often more dignity than they had when they were dying. the cadaver is a colleague, as one of my professors was fond of saying.

spending so much time trying to offer this fundamental dignity is the cause, i think, of my fondness for attempting to write meaningfully about people who are in no way the heroes of pieces. the violent, the sad, the lonely, and the unlikeable appeal to me far more than the good. our star, merope gaunt, and the combined forces of the horrifying things she did to tom riddle sr. and the horrifying things she endured herself within a world which didn’t give her the tools to know any better, is all four of those things. and i have built her an (after)life here where she can try to make up for what she did on earth by acting as the ferrywoman for a procession of other lost souls on the other side of the veil...

i have taken so long to bother doing this that i’m sure everyone’s done it. if not, please consider this a blanket tag.

#asenora fic recs #hp fic recs #bookbinding #everlasting ink #leather #lux aurumque #nor all that glisters gold #the shack at the end of the lane #tom riddle x myrtle warren #hinny #nymphadora tonks #sirius black #bellatrix lestrange #merope gaunt

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blondiest · 2 months

Note

2 & 7 for bury us both :)

HI these are such fun ones tysm <3 bury us both currently takes up like 65% of my whole entire brain i think. including portions typically dedicated to things like work and sleep and social activities u_u

2: What scene did you first put down?

so the first scene that actually made it into the fic was the scene in the first chapter where near enters her hotel room and is lovingly held at gunpoint by mello, but there was a vague concept that preceded that and which is DEEPLY not representative of the trajectory of the fic that i am including below the cut for funsies. it's fairly explicit, so i am flagging this as not suitable for minors & asking anyone under 18 to refrain from interacting.

7: Where did the title come from?

hehehe it comes from a line in michelle pfeiffer by ethel cain -- the full context is "i hate to let you go / but if i don't / then we both know / i'll bury us both / fed to the night as ghosts"

fanfic asks

okay i wish to repeat that this is no longer relevant to the trajectory of the fic hgsjdghdsh i am just horrendously inclined towards writing. kidnapping kink. i fucking guess.

The business of getting her little captive from New York to Los Angeles was a tricky one, and one Mello had to see to herself. She drove across the country, alone with her precious cargo, sleeping in motels and screwing in the car on the side of deserted country roads, her hands around Near's pretty neck, her thick strap-on buried in Near's cunt.

#asks #nsft #mdni

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honourablejester · 1 year

Text

PF2e Character Concept: Inbal the Listener

So I was browsing around the Investigator class in Archives of Nethys, and some of the flavour text leans towards an occult detective: You seek to uncover the truth, doggedly pursuing leads to reveal the plots of devious villains, discover ancient secrets, or unravel other mysteries. I’ve been wanting to build an occulty sort of character in PF2e since basically reading some of the occultism skill feats way back when. If you want a sort of ESP-feeling, psychometry, vibe-focused sort of character, occultism just feels like a really good skill to build around.

So I was looking at that, and the Investigator methodologies, and for some reason while browsing past the Forensic Medicine methodology, my brain thought ‘Igor’. Gothic horror, bodies, henchpeople. Frankenstein. Which, naturally, brought me back to the Fleshwarp ancestry. Because they’re just really really cool. But. If we tie a bow around all of that. Bodies. Forensic Science. Occultism. Gothic Horror. Servants.

How about a character who was built, designed, to search out occult mysteries. A body built from pieces of strange creatures, a servant crafted to aid in certain obscure and obscene mysteries. A shambling creature who wound up on their own, with only insatiable curiosity, strange senses, and a healer’s eye for the physical form to keep them going. A hideous creature, a feared creature, but they offer help. Medicine, healing. Expertise. Help for when things are strange or terrifying.

Inbal the Listener. A nervy, alarming creature with long, spidery fingers and worrisome sensory tendrils, who sidles around the edges of civilisation offering cheap doctoring or help with unusual mysteries to survive.

(Yes, my Nosferatu is showing again. VtM was responsible for a lot. Also Universal and Hammer Horror)

Character Concept: Inbal the Listener, Sensor of Hidden Things

Ancestry, Heritage

Fleshwarp, Surgewise

I really, really, really like Fleshwarps. Horrendously transformed or warped or created beings, strange bodies for unusual people. For Inbal we’re aiming for a gothic/cosmic horror sort of origin, a bit of an Ustalavian feel. Some scientist or necromancer in Ustalav decided to make themselves a servant to help search out and understand areas of heavy occult energies, and in that cause decided to merge a broadly humanoid form with several … more unusual sorts of organs and origins.

So we’ll be going for the Surgewise heritage: The undulations of your body's cilia are hyper-attuned to wellsprings of magic; they trill and thrum with insights into occult energies, and their vibrations alert you to the presence of secrets. You gain the trained proficiency rank in Occultism. If you're trained in Occultism, you instead become trained in another skill of your choice. You also gain the Oddity Identification skill feat.

You’ve got to love a heritage that gives you canonical sensory tendrils (cilia). I want to imagine a sort of skinny, hunched, hairless creature, with bluey-grey skin, and these little fringes or fronds of cilia along certain areas. Below the ears. Along the spine and the back of the neck, over the crest of the head. Along the ridge of the arm, down to the wrist. The hands are elongated, pale, spidery fingers that stitch your wounds or delicately trace writings or gently examine clues. The eyes are dark and without whites, black orbs, and … let’s make the eyelids transparent. The eyes don’t close in sleep, or they don’t appear to close, though the transparent lids do protect them and keep them from drying out. Inbal is neither male nor female, they were never designed with reproduction in mind. They were meant to feel and to seek and to explore.

The medicine, the understanding of flesh, they came to themselves, as a product of their making.

As a note, ‘Inbal’, in Hebrew, means ‘tongue of a bell’. They named themselves, as something that will not only listen, not only feel, but also speak. They were not designed for it, but they have their own mind, and they have carved out their own life. That is important to them.

Ancestry Feats:

Low-Light Vision: You can see in dim light as though it were bright light, and you ignore the concealed condition due to dim light.

Unusual Anatomy: Your unorthodox body resists physical afflictions meant for other creatures. You gain a +1 circumstance bonus to saves against diseases and poisons.

Oddity Identification: You have a sense for spells that twist minds or reveal secrets. You gain a +2 circumstance bonus to Occultism checks to Identify Magic with the mental, possession, prediction, or scrying traits.

And for our first level ancestry feat we’ll take:

Deepvision: Your vision is suited for night or the underground. You gain darkvision.

Planned Future Ancestry Feats:

We’ll take the Ancestral Paragon general feat at 3rd level to get:

Living Weapon: You've learned to use part of your form as a weapon. When you select this feat, you gain a claws unarmed attack that deals 1d4 slashing damage and has the agile and finesse traits; a horn, jaws, or tusk unarmed attack that deals 1d6 piercing damage and has the versatile trait; or a tail unarmed attack that deals 1d6 bludgeoning damage and has the backswing trait. Each of these unarmed attacks is in the brawling weapon group. Your features are mutable; you can select this feat at any level, and you can retrain into or out of this feat or change the type of attack you gain. Special You can take this feat multiple times. Each time you do, select a new attack from the options above.

Just because Investigators are martial classes, and a weapon that can’t get taken away might be handy. Not going to lie, though, Aberration Kinship is also very tempting, particularly on an occult detective sort of character. Toss up there. Then we’ll take:

Uncanny Awareness: You have a keen sense of movement around you. You gain motion sense as an imprecise sense out to 30 feet. Motion sense allows you to detect nearby motion through vibration and air movement.

Because we have sensory cilia and we’re damn well going to use them. And for the same reason, at 13th level we’ll take:

Augment Senses: You open vestigial eyes, unfurl tympanic flaps of skin, or otherwise enhance your senses. Until the start of your next turn, you gain the following benefits: you can't be flanked; when you Seek for creatures, you can scan a 60-foot cone or a 30-foot burst instead of the normal area; and when you Seek for hidden objects, you can search a 15-foot square instead of the normal area.

And at 17th level, just because, we’ll take:

Spew Tentacles: You can open your mouth to an immense size and spew forth an impossibly large field of tentacles. You can cast black tentacles once per day as an innate occult spell, though when you do so, you spew them from your mouth out to the appropriate range, where they take root and begin Grappling creatures as usual. The tentacles recognize you as a part of them and don't attempt to Grapple you, even if you are in the area.

For our 9th ancestry feat, it’s a toss up. Coating of Slime or Slip the Grasp work defensively. Transposable Compliance really gels well with our medical slant, allowing Inbal to use their own body as a set of healer’s tools, in very upsetting ways, using their own blood and skin to fix other people’s injuries at the cost of damage to themselves. It is tempting. But. If we want a combination, a very upsetting biological defensive feat, we could go:

Gaping Flesh (reaction): Frequency once per day. Trigger A creature you are aware of damages you with a melee Strike. Your wound yawns open, appalling your attacker. The attacker must succeed at a Fortitude saving throw against your class DC or spell DC, whichever is higher, or become sickened 1 (sickened 2 on a critical failure). It can't recover from the sickened condition while it's adjacent to you.

Look. They are a strange cobbled-together creature made of the upsetting bits of upsetting creatures so they could go out and look for more upsetting creatures and places and things. Their innards are not pleasant or rational things to look at. Okay? Heh.

I fucking love Fleshwarps. Anyway.

Planned Future General Feats:

Nothing too concrete, but I’ll definitely be getting True Perception at 19th level. Sensing is kind of our whole deal, after all. I’d also pick up the usuals. Fleet, Toughness. Since we’re an investigator, though, I’d like either Expeditious Search or Thorough Search. We like to examine things.

Background:

Necromancer’s Apprentice: You apprenticed under a necromancer—a hard education in a field where a cadaver you were dissecting could suddenly animate and every magical artifact seemed deadly. Now on your own, you're grateful you learned to identify magical threats quickly and thoroughly. Choose two ability boosts. One must be to Constitution or Intelligence, and one is a free ability boost. You're trained in the Arcana skill and the Necromancy Lore skill. You gain the Quick Identification skill feat.

To go back to the Frankensteinian origin. Though it’ll be ‘made by’ instead of ‘apprenticed under’ a necromancer, in this case, and the necromancer also had some more … esoteric interests as well.

As for what happened to said necromancer … Inbal doesn’t know. She’s gone. Not dead, Inbal doesn’t think, just. Gone. It’s a little hazy. A lot hazy. Something happened, and suddenly Inbal was all alone in the world. Suddenly they had to investigate mysteries and poke around strange flesh for their own curiosity, instead of their master’s. But, well. That’s all right. They have a lot of curiosity. And they’re a lot freer to try to help and talk to people on their own.

Background Feats:

Quick Identification: You can Identify Magic swiftly. You take only 1 minute when using Identify Magic to determine the properties of an item, ongoing effect, or location, rather than 10 minutes. If you’re a master, it takes a 3-action activity, and if you’re legendary, it takes 1 action.

Class, Subclass, Archetype

Investigator, Forensic Medicine, Eldritch Researcher

Yes, I want to take an archetype on Inbal. Eldritch Researcher just feels so fitting. We’re an occult detective with a medical streak. I’m only going to take a couple feats from it, but it’s so nice for flavour and a couple of specific little details.

Forensic Medicine: You've learned that in most cases, especially murders, criminals tend to leave more evidence of the crime on the body than they'd like to believe. Information from bruising, bone fractures, blood spatters, and even the life cycle of carrion insects can provide valuable clues that help reconstruct the scene. You're trained in Medicine and gain the Forensic Acumen and Battle Medicine skill feats. When you use Battle Medicine, on a success the target recovers additional Hit Points equal to your level, and the target becomes temporarily immune for only 1 hour, not 1 day.

Forensic Acumen: You understand the principles of forensic medicine, making you better at examining a body to determine the cause of death or injury. You can perform a forensic examination on a body, as described under Recall Knowledge in the Medicine skill, in half the normal amount of time it would take (to a minimum of 5 minutes). If you succeed at your check, you can attempt an immediate check to Recall Knowledge to follow up on something you found, with a +2 circumstance bonus. This check is usually related to the cause of injury or death, such as a Crafting check to identify a poison or weapon that was used or an additional Medicine check to identify a specific disease. If you prefer, you can instead attempt to Recall Knowledge about the type of creature whose body you were examining, using the appropriate skill and gaining the same circumstance bonus. The circumstance bonus increases to +3 if you have master proficiency in Medicine and +4 if you have legendary proficiency.

Battle Medicine: You can patch up wounds, even in combat. Attempt a Medicine check with the same DC as for Treat Wounds and restore the corresponding amount of HP; this doesn't remove the Wounded condition. As with Treat Wounds, you can attempt checks against higher DCs if you have the minimum proficiency rank. The target is then temporarily immune to your Battle Medicine for 1 day.

Eldritch Researcher (at Level 2): An eager student of occult lore, you enjoy reading rare or forgotten tomes with ancient rituals and hidden secrets. You connect disparate facts to unlock deeper mysteries and uncover the truths of the universe, and you zealously hoard the knowledge your painstaking research produces. Aberrations fascinate you for many reasons, not the least of which is because their anatomy is wholly alien and yet, to the insightful, eminently sensible.

Eldritch Researcher Dedication: You gain the ability to cast a single arcane or occult cantrip of your choice (which is heightened to a spell level equal to half your level rounded up). If you weren't already, you become trained in that tradition's spell DCs and spell attack rolls with Intelligence as your spellcasting ability. Regardless of whether you choose an arcane or occult cantrip, you also become an expert in your choice of either Arcana or Occultism. You also gain a +1 circumstance bonus to checks you attempt with the chosen skill when Investigating or Identifying Magic. Special You can't select another dedication feat until you've gained two other feats from the Eldritch Researcher archetype.

Statistics:

We’re going to start with 18 Intelligence, 14 Constitution and Dexterity, 12 Wisdom, and 10 Strength and Charisma.

We’ll finish at 20th level with 22 Intelligence, 18 Constitution, Wisdom and Dexterity, 16 Charisma and 14 Strength.

Skills:

Because Investigators are insane when it comes to skills, at 1st level Inbal will be trained in: Arcana, Crafting, Deception, Diplomacy, Intimidation, Medicine, Nature, Necromantic Lore, Occultism, Religion, Society, Stealth and Thievery.

By 20th level, they’ll be Legendary in Crafting, Diplomacy, Medicine, Occultism, Society and Stealth, as well as Master in Arcana. Because, again, Investigators are kind of insane for skills.

Planned Class Feats:

Scalpel’s Point: Prerequisites forensic medicine methodology. Your stratagems benefit from your precise knowledge of anatomy. When you critically hit with an attack on which you substituted your attack roll due to Devising a Stratagem, if your attack dealt piercing or slashing damage, you also deal 1d6 persistent bleed damage to your target.

Blind-Fight: Prerequisites master in Perception. Your battle instincts make you more aware of concealed and invisible opponents. You don't need to succeed at a flat check to target concealed creatures. You're not flat-footed to creatures that are hidden from you (unless you're flat-footed to them for reasons other than the hidden condition), and you need only a successful DC 5 flat check to target a hidden creature. While you're adjacent to an undetected creature of your level or lower, it is instead only hidden from you.

(Inbal’s cilia and augmented senses are doing a lot of work. A very sensory creature in general)

Suspect of Opportunity: Frequency once per hour. Trigger A foe takes a hostile action against you in combat. Sometimes something intrudes upon your case unexpectedly, such as an ambush sent to bring your investigation to a close. You've learned how to compartmentalize your main lead and pursue a new one for your current predicament. You Pursue a Lead against the triggering foe, setting aside but not ending one of your currently active leads, if you have two leads. At the end of the combat encounter, you stop Pursuing the Lead against the triggering foe and return to the original lead, if you have one.

Foresee Danger: Trigger A creature targets you with an attack and you can see the attacker. You perceive every possible way your foe's attack could land and attempt to avoid them all. The triggering attack roll targets your Perception DC instead of your AC. Though this allows you to avoid taking penalties to your AC, it doesn't remove any conditions or other effects causing such penalties. For example, an enemy with sneak attack would still deal extra damage to you for being flat-footed, even though you wouldn't take the -2 circumstance penalty when defending against the attack.

Reconstruct the Scene: You spend 1 minute surveying a small location (such as a single room) to get an impression of events that occurred there in the last day. This involves moving about the area and studying footprints, the placement of objects, spilled drinks or blood, and so forth. You get an indistinct mental impression of significant events that happened there. This gives you clues and details of the past, including the overall events and their time frame, but it's not a perfect record. This also isn't enough to identify who was involved in these events if you weren't already aware the person was there. As determined by the GM, you also pick out various seemingly small details that could serve as important clues, like a memorable weapon someone used for a murder or the type of cloak someone wore when passing through.

Trickster’s Ace: Requirements When you make your daily preparations, you must specify a trigger for this reaction using the same restrictions as the triggers for the Ready action. You also choose a single spell from the arcane, divine, occult, or primal list of 4th level or lower. The spell can't have a cost, nor can its casting time be more than 10 minutes. The spell must be able to target a single creature, and you must be a valid target for it. Trigger You specify the trigger when you make your daily preparations (see Requirements below). Whether from jury-rigged magic items, stolen magical essence, or other means, you have a contingency in your back pocket for desperate situations. When the trigger occurs, you cause the spell to come into effect. The spell targets only you, no matter how many creatures it would affect normally. If you define particularly complicated conditions, as determined by the GM, the trigger might fail. Once the contingency is triggered, the spell is expended until your next daily preparations.

(We’ve dabbled in a bit of occult spellcasting before, after all, from ancestry and archetype, so why not dabble some more)

And to cap:

All the Time in the World: Your firsthand experience of the subjective nature of time and space has given you new observational insights. Your mind processes information so quickly that time appears to stop for all creatures but you. You can take up to 9 actions in 3 sets of up to 3 actions each. During this time, you can use purely mental and observational abilities such as Recall Knowledge, Seek, and Devise a Stratagem, and you can use an action to move a mental projection of yourself to a location within a 60- foot radius to observe objects more closely and from different angles, though you can't affect your surroundings in any way (for instance, you could move your mental projection more closely to a distant door to read a minute inscription on its handle, but you could not open it to observe the other side). When the duration elapses, time resumes its normal flow.

If you can’t already tell, Inbal is definitely going to be running on a theme of sensing things. Heh.

Planned Archetype Feats:

Strange Script: Prerequisites Eldritch Researcher Dedication. You have such familiarity with obscure texts that you can compel them to reveal their secrets. Once per day, you can touch a single text (such as a tome, a wall of hieroglyphics, or something similar) and understand its meaning for 1 hour. If the text is in multiple languages, you gain the ability to understand them all for only the purposes of reading the text. If the text is in a code or cypher, you don't automatically understand the text, but you gain a +2 circumstance bonus to checks to decipher it.

(I’m going to merge this with one of the skill feats I wanted to take, Read Psychometric Resonance, and flavour it as being able to sense the meaning as a psychometric resonance.)

Entities from Afar: Prerequisites Eldritch Researcher Dedication. You can call in aberrations to fight for you or to answer questions. You can cast summon entity as an innate occult spell once per day. If you couldn't already cast occult spells, these spells use Intelligence as your spellcasting ability, and you become trained in spell attack rolls and spell DCs for occult spells; if you could already cast occult spells, your proficiency in spell attack rolls and spell DCs for occult spells increases to expert. As soon as the aberration arrives, instead of giving it any other commands, you can demand that it help you with a single question you pose to it. For the creature to effectively answer, you must Sustain the Spell for 1 minute, and you must understand and be understood by the aberration. If you do, the aberration gives you a cryptic clue as provided by the read omens spell, except that the clue is even more enigmatic than normal; the creature then immediately returns from whence it came without providing you any other benefit. At 16th level and every 2 levels thereafter, the summon entity spell is heightened by 1 level (to a maximum of 8th level when you reach 20th level).

(… Look, Inbal’s already 90% Aberration, they might as well get to call some up for help occasionally)

Planned Skill Feats:

I’m going to mention these, because there’s some specific skill feats I want for the vibe and to build flavour in and around class/ancestry feats.

In particular I want:

Read Psychometric Resonance: Prerequisites trained in Occultism. With a touch, you can read the psychic impressions left on objects by their previous owners. This exploration activity functions similarly to Detect Magic in that you move at half your travel speed or slower while looking for psychometric resonance. You must brush your bare hands over any objects you pass while you do this. This detects objects with significant emotional resonance attached to them, such as the joy from a child's beloved teddy bear, the sorrow from a widower's wedding ring, or the fear from a victim's murder weapon. If you're looking for a particular type of emotional resonance, you can choose to ignore other emotions. If you find an item with that resonance, you can explore that resonance with the following action. Psychometric Assessment (concentrate, divination, emotion, exploration, mental, occult) Requirements Your bare hands are touching an object in which you detected psychometric resonance; Effect You spend 1 minute concentrating on the object to get a vision of the face of the person who imbued the item with such emotion in the first place. If the associated emotion is painfully negative, you might take 1d6 psychic damage, as determined by the GM.

PF2e has a psychometry skill. I love it. You don’t know how much. Like I said above, I want to build this with a few things, like Inbal’s sensory cilia from Surgewise, and the Strange Script feat from Eldritch Researcher. Their spidery fingers and swaying tendrils give them glimpses beyond the physical. They were made to feel things and to explore things, and they’re not unhappy about it.

On a theme of occultism and sensing things, I also want Arcane Sense, Consult the Spirits: Occultism, Recognise Spell and Quick Recognition. Root Magic is more protection than sensing, but that also fits in pretty well.

On a theme of Medicine, because it’s how they make their little space in the world, how they help, how they convince people not to murder them, I would also like Ward Medic, Robust Recovery, Advanced First Aid, Paragon Battle Medicine, and Legendary Medic.

All of this is possible, by the way, because, as mentioned, Investigators are ridiculous when it comes to skills and skill feats and they get twenty million of them. So on top of those, we can add on some of the usual suspects like Swift Sneak, Foil Senses, and Legendary Sneak, because Inbal is gonna need to be sneaky, because they’ve got to skulk around the edges of the world and avoid being hacked up as an abomination. Streetwise and Legendary Codebreaker from Society, because they’ll need some mundane mystery-solving abilities, and Codebreaker fits nicely with Strange Script too, in that by higher levels they’ve sensed enough to learn how to decode languages manually and permanently, instead of just reading meanings in the moment. And then we’ll throw in Magical Crafting, Craft Anything and Legendary Negotiation, because Investigators just have all the skills. All of them. Heh.

Spells: As a small side note, by the time they finish, between various feats, Inbal will also have a small collection of mostly occult spells available to them: Haunting Hymn, Detect Magic, Telepathy, Summon Entity and Black Tentacles.

And … that’ll be Inbal the Listener. A strange skulker around the edges of the light, with a curious form and a curious mind, looking to help and to explore in equal measure.

#pf2e #character concepts #investigators #occult detectives #cosmic horror #body horror #esp #i'm building around a theme of sensing things #i love fleshwarps #excellent ancestry

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droningmachinations · 10 months

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Is To Shout The Truth: A Droning Machinations Episode

Written By Joseph M.

My name, my story is something I can't yet reveal. What I can reveal, speckles of my past that are already dashed throughout my writings and ramblings. I can disclose my alias, an online name I use to shroud myself in a veil of mystery and cloak my identity: MrHacker.

The story I am about to immortalize forever in these writings is one of action, adventure, mystery, myth and religion, fantasy and reality. I will take you back in time, first to the year of 1940 during the Nazi regime, in a country controlled and overseen by Hitler himself called Nordland, wherein lived a soldier named Colonel Geri Becker.

Researching, I admired this man's feats. He was a North Texan who resisted the Nazi invasion of Nordland during the Second World War. His prickly shaved black beard and dirty soldier uniform told all, that he was a soldier at heart and a man of his army. He brought pride to Nordland, a Spanger speaking country (Spanger being a portmanteau of the two languages comprising this code-switched language.)

As the Spanger speaking people would say, "Lang lebe el hombre de Nordland." Touting and praising the man of Nordland, it was something he well deserved, especially after his feat of greatness in the Battle of the Holy See.

The Nazis had invaded the Holy See; crosses were replaced with Nazi symbols, crucifixes were replaced with idolatry and Hitler propaganda. Upon reading their horrendous acts of removing and destroying Christian symbols, I was surprised; usually the Nazis would twist symbols like the Swastika to try and create their message, but here they were outright removing it. It's not like it was any less immoral anyway.

Case in point: Geri Becker, stationed in the Holy See, fought off Nazis and acquired a precious artifact. He stumbled through the burning Greco-Roman inspired pillars and into a Pantheon-esque building to retrieve a highly coveted artifact that had the same amount of value and prestige as the Holy Grail itself.

It was a small golden orb with lime emeralds glistening as it was pulled through the orange and yellow monsters consuming the Holy See, and it dazzled as two oily hands brought it into the white gaze of the blistering orb revolving around our very home, the gleaming ball constantly shining and giving our sphere of blue and green stuff light as we circled around it in a wonderful dance, its gaze intermittent and often shrouded by storm clouds.

Case in point: Geri Becker acquired the artifact known as the Saucer from the Holy See, and I acquired it through Geri Becker's old confidantes. By the twisting and turning path that my life took me down, I ended up posessing the most powerful relic in the Catholic mythos, and now was the best time to put its mythical qualities to the test. I removed the emerald sphere from its case and examined it, before stuffing it into a black backpack and rushing downstairs into the poorly-lit basement, the entrance concealed by an alphabetically-sorted bookshelf.

I was inclined to stop the terrorist organization LEVIATHAN, and I was determined to do this at all costs, though I calculated that this operation had little risk and many rewards, especially beneficial to the fate of the cosmos. LEVIATHAN was almost as bad as the Nazis, maybe even worse in some aspects and from some viewpoints, and maybe one of the worst terror-mongering groups of all time, and some of their acts are so horrendous no writing would do it justice, and no speech either.

Before I had entered the basement, I grabbed a book detailing the origins, the history of the relic dubbed the Jesus Stone snd flipped through the dusty, tanned and inked papyrus. Remains of the ink-dipped feather pens used to write this manual were still here, and ink residuals smudged the pages. I said to myself, "Here goes nothing."

I flipped to the right page and began reading aloud the Latin script. Some of it I could translate despite my rough Latin knowledge, but the writing was desecrated and eroding away slowly, withering from the effects of time. From what I gathered, the first line of the spell that activated the Jesus Stone translated to, "See my heart, know it true; open my eyes to see the past, future too; Jesus Stone I call to you."

As I recited the spell contained within the torn pages of the manuscript, the letters on the pages began to light up, and orange embers floated out from the page; it was like the same creatures of warmth and orange-yellow glow that consumed the Holy See were returning from the pages of the book, now purified and tame.

Case in point: the Nazis didn't burn down the Pantheon structure Geri entered; it was a lightning strike, possibly divine intervention.

Researching the Jesus Stone, I learned of the relic's holy powers. Whoever recited the chant contained within the hallowed Book of the Stone of Jesus could attain a power only God Himself had: the foresight of the future and the ability to see the past, all the way to the Cretacious and Jurassic periods of the dinosaurs, all the way to an infinite amount of time even before then.

This was it. This was the tool I could use to finally bring down Leviathan.

But somehow, I wasn't in my basement anymore. I was in Jerusalem, and I was approached by a man with tangerine and charcoal fur on his olive skin; he had long, woven matte black dreads that seemingly flew softly in the 33 BC Jerusalem breeze. He had a gruff voice like a tiger, and thick fur on his face; two fangs ran down his face, almost poking into his chin.

While I stared in shock, he introduced himself as the Messiah. "I am Jesus Christ, the Lord of the Tigers and Man, Slayer of the Serpents, the Son of God, and the one destined to save humanity from eternal damnation. Believe in me and you shall have eternal life." His tiger ears fluttered as he said this, and he had a gentle smile on his face despite having the appearance of a tiger.

It was then certain in my mind that he wasn't just a man who bore resemblance to a tiger; he was both a tiger and man at the same time. He put his paw on my shoulder, and led me to a shambly hut with his talon-crowned trident of fuzz and knuckles, a crumbling abode where he sought refuge during the punishing reign of Julius Caesar and during famishes and droughts. He extended both arms as if to pull two clumps of air together, extended his hands, stood straight and met my eyes with a heat-struck gaze.

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themochiverse · 2 years

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Wanna Play? | 01

Banner credits go to the amazing ➳ @introgfx (tysm!)

➤ BTS: Series

⪧ Wanna Play? ✎✘🗡 (BTS!au, yandere!au, best friends to enemies!au, game!au?) Taehyung x fem!Reader (feat. BTS)

➳Word Count: 3.6k+

➳Chapter Summary: You've been best friends with Taehyung for a long time. Your relationship is pretty good with him, but your delusional brain seems to cause big problems ahead of you.

➳Implied Warnings: Swearing, slight manipulation, mentions of stalker-ish behaviour and consensual-kissing? Angsty Tae! OC is naive :p

A/N: Hey! I'm so sorry this took forever, I was a little busy, a lot of changes happened in this chapter and I wasn't sure if it was good enough or not. I tested positive for covid unfortunately :( so writing is the only thing that's mostly keeping me occupied. I would love feedback and comments, I hope you enjoy~

Chapters | Prologue | 01 | 02

Taglist: @minshookie29 @6tslovr @proflyndo @pinkcherrybombs @xanslii @papijiminfeed @justanotherstarlightmonger @kittykatfey @princess-sunshyn @jinniesjoon94 @trashlord-007

"Boom! And that's how you win the Ultra Zombie Shoot Out!" You yell, as you finally shoot the last horrendous looking zombie, the fake blood splattering. You clap your hands in delight. Tickets were whirling out of the machine as you got the high score in the game. You were currently in an arcade with your best friend, Taehyung. Whom you glance at, was on his phone, the screen lighting up his facial features.

You roll your eyes, as you start poking his shoulder.

"Taehyung."

"Yeah?" He replies.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Tsk, what does it look like I'm doing Y/N?" You can hear a hint of annoyance coming from him. Clearly, you were pissed at his attitude, and you weren't going to let him get away with it like he always does. So you put your hands on your hips, before talking to him.

"Tae, you know I only invited you to come to the arcade with me, so we can hang out." You tell him.

Taehyung examines you, identifying your mood, the change of behaviour, your body expression, and how you looked extremely beautiful with oversized clothes. He was staring at you for a while until you interrupted him by clearing your throat.

"So, can we play one more game? Please, Tae? I promise I'll make it up to you." To make him agree with you, you pout, enlarging your eyes, your hands on your face.

How could he say 'no' to that face? Finally, he turns his phone off and gives his boxy smile.

"Sure, we'll play just one game, and after that, you're buying me some Whiskey."

"Deal!" You accept the offer. You walk past him, trying to pick out a game before you feel a hand grab you. You look back and see Taehyung gazing at your lips before looking back at you.

"Oh." You mumble as you give a quick peck on his soft lips. Taehyung gives a soft smile as you both walk off to play another game.

"That was not fair!" You currently were strolling down the streets, mad at the fact that you lost the last game at the arcade.

"It was fair, you weren't just good enough Y/n," Taehyung explains to you. You gasp, he just insulted you for not playing well.

"Excuse me, I did do well, you on the other hand kept asking me which buttons to press for throwing a fucking bomb."

"Still, I did better." He shrugs.

"Well, it wasn't my fault for getting distracted by you." You indicate the word 'you' on Taehyung a little harshly.

"Me? What did I do to distract you?" Curiosity hit Taehyung the very moment you mentioned that sentence.

Quiet for a moment, you rewind back to the time in the arcade. Taehyung’s dark brown hair, curled so adorably, the light cream hoodie he wore with baggy pants just really suited him. His facial features were looking sharp and beautiful. The straight nose, his bright smooth skin and his small parted lips really made you wonder of how such beauty existed.

You took a moment to reply with something.

"I don't know! You just look awfully great today. I mean you looked so cute playing the game, I just lost focus..." You mutter the last sentence quietly but Taehyung sure heard it.

You feel Taehyung wrap his arms around you, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I'm joking, you know? You're probably one of the best competitive players in this world, Y/n. And you know that too." Your cheeks blush a little from the comment.

"Now, let's go get some Whiskey, and remember you're paying!" Taehyung playfully yells as he starts running to the nearest club in front of you guys.

"Hey! Wait up, I gotta know if the Whiskey is expensive or not." You run after him, giggling that you had found such a perfect best friend.

"That is your fifth glass Y/n," Taehyung sighs. For the past thirty minutes, you told yourself that you wouldn't drink, not until Taehyung teased you about it.

"So? I'm just really, really thirsty tonight." You slur, your head on the bar counter.

"Oh my god, don't tell me I need to carry you home tonight." Taehyung groans in annoyance.

"I did a lot today, Tae." You sip the remaining Whiskey left in your glass.

"Another one please." You tell the bartender.

"Y/n, I'm pretty sure that's enough, you were drunk from your third glass."

"Did I tell you, that you look extremely handsome today?" You point your finger towards Taehyung's chest. Taehyung sort of widens his eyes.

"Why did your hair have to be curly Taehyung? Why are you so good-looking?" You declare in a state of drunkenness.

"Alright, we're going now," Taehyung states, grasping your arm and pulling you out of your seat.

"But, Tae." You whine.

"Taehyung?" A different voice is heard this time. Taehyung releases you when his eyes are on someone else.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung replies. Your eyes trail to where Taehyung is looking at. In front of you, both was another man, slightly taller than Taehyung, though he didn't have curly hair as he did. Instead, this man had a nice cut to his, his arm was covered in ravishing tattoos, silver loops on both of his ears and a lip piercing perfectly chipped to the corner of his small lips.

"I never knew you had a girlfriend," Jungkook announces.

Girlfriend? Oh, this guy took the wrong impression.

"We're not together."

"We're together."

You and Taehyung both gape at each other in shock. Jungkook follows your movement and smirks.

"Friends, I guess?" He rhetorically asks.

"Best friends," you reassure him.

"Good, I thought it was the 'Friends with Benefits' thing." He quotes. You widen your eyes, quickly replying.

"I doubt so that will ever happen, I mean we're best friends, we just cuddle and kiss, there's nothing bad in that." You let that out in a rush, realising after three seconds of what you had said.

You cover your mouth with your hand and mumble.

"Shit, I wasn't supposed to say all of that was I?"

Jungkook just stares at you in amusement, before he glances back at your best friend.

“She’s pretty, will you-“ He gets cut off by Taehyung harshly.

“No.”

“Why? You’ve certainly got luck in your side.” Jungkook continues.

“I said no,” Taehyung replied sternly.

“The hyungs won’t be happy to hear about this…” Jungkook says in a quiet voice.

“Get your own.” Taehyung grits his teeth.

“She’s mine.” He adds.

You were literally confused about what they were talking about. You just only remember being at the arcade and magically ending up here, stuck between two men arguing whatever bullshit they were saying.

“Fine, but, everyone has got their eyes set on the prize.” Jungkook ends, you watch him disappear within the crowd.

You rest your head on a very pissed Taehyung, slurring out more sentences that would probably embarrass you in the future.

“Why do you guys speak in riddles?”

The atmosphere in the car was not very welcoming at all. It was freezing and you had no idea why Taehyung didn’t turn on the heater during the trip home. You could tell Taehyung wasn’t in the mood at all, his knuckles were white the whole time when he was driving, his steering wheel would probably need a new change.

The car abruptly stopped, making your body jerk out of your seat for a little. The silence was definitely heard in the air when you got out of the car.

You look at Taehyung who wasn’t paying attention to you at all.

“Drive safely.” You tell him.

“Be safe and call me if you need anything.” He replies before whirring off into the night.

Weird, why does he always sound like an overprotective boyfriend?

You shrug off the thought as you enter your house. That was until more questions stirred in your head.

When Jungkook mentioned the word ‘girlfriend’ it reminded you of the number of times when you thought kissing your best friend was wrong. You met Taehyung a couple of months ago, it started with bumping to each other in a café, spilling your coffee all over him.

After a hundred times of saying sorry, he instead bought you a coffee, arguing about how he should have watched where he was going. Then things started to progress slowly. You guys coincidentally kept bumping into each other at different places, just casually talking to not make the conversation awkward.

Taehyung made the first move, asking for your phone number. It really seemed like those cliché ‘love at first sight’ types but it wasn’t.

He wanted to become best friends.

You guys were so sweet and caring for each other, that you didn’t realise the day Taehyung told you to kiss him.

He convinced you it was normal for best friends to do that, it showed love and affection, like as if it was holding a rope, where neither of you can tug it, so at the end it will never snap.

Unless… one of you pull it, so the rope is loose to whoever’s freedom.

Was light pecks or kisses alright?

Is that why Jungkook asked if you were Taehyung’s girlfriend? You didn’t kiss in front of him, maybe you two just looked really great together.

It felt wrong to do so, but it made you feel special and loved. And you wanted that so badly. It was a craving desire, you and Taehyung were so close, you both had so many things in common and so far there weren’t any huge arguments that would disrupt the relationship.

You had a real friend. A friend that you would probably cherish for the rest of your life. But, was kissing a friend alright?

You could always trust Taehyung, right?

You ignore the thought and go to your room, instantly lying on the fluffy bed. You fiddle with your fingers for a while, the silence killing you slowly. You could hear crickets chirping and just the rough wind, swishing away so hard you could hear the branches of trees hitting against each other.

Your bedroom window was slightly ajar, the moonlight glowing your face up.

Wait, why was the window open? You remember it was closed with the curtains covering it-

You immediately sat up, flicking the lights on, only to be greeted by a guest who made you jump.

"What the fuck?"

"Hello, Y/n." Under the nose of you was Jungkook. You surprisingly remember him. How the hell did he get in your room?

"What are you doing here?" You question out of fright and curiosity.

"Mm," he simply says, sitting on one of your armchairs, legs sprawled apart.

You barely know this guy and a disturbing feeling knotted inside your stomach.

"Listen-"

"Do you want to play a game, Y/n?" He queries.

"If it's with you, then... no." You respond arms crossed over your chest. Right now, you really hoped this deranged fucker would go away. How does he have the audacity to sneak into your house and ask you to play a game?

"Are you sure? It's a really fun game." He stretches, those doe eyes piercing through your soul.

"Like I said, no." You scoff, getting annoyed. Jungkook, on the other hand, scanned your features- if you played this game, you had no idea how happy Jungkook would be.

"Everybody likes games, and I know you do too... but, have you ever played a game that earns you money?"

"Money or not, I'm not interested." You say the word slow and hard for Jungkook to hear.

"You're going to regret it, Taehyung's in it." Your head quirks up to the mention of Taehyung's name. Taehyung? Playing a game? And he didn't tell you?

Jungkook watches you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Money or not," he mocks the first couple of words you say "though, wouldn't it be much more fun if you were playing with your so-called, 'best friend'?"

"The price of friendship is dealt more than the price of $35 million." He continues. Thirty-five million? What insane game was this?

"W-what game is it?" You catechize.

"Oh baby, it's not just one game, it's multiple. That's how the money adds up." He clicks his tongue, smirking. The name he just used made you cringe, what gave him the right to say that?.

Realising your quiet response, Jungkook scrutinises you. He noticed how close you and Taehyung were. It infuriated him that his own Hyung didn't tell him about you. You were gorgeous, an angel sent from heaven, someone to keep forever. Jungkook and his other Hyung's would share all the time, and to his surprise, Taehyung didn't mention anything. He never mentioned you.

Well now, he was going to make things a whole lot better.

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, "But, don't you want to know what this is?" Between his two fingers was a small type of card. Golden, in fact, your eyes examining and reading the small, capitalised letters printed on it.

"Wanna Play?" You breathe out, "Is that the name of the game?"

"Yeah, it is." Jungkook retorts, playing with the card, you watch him flip it over and over again.

"All the details come from the card." He tells you, tapping the card twice with one of his fingers.

"You choose, whether you want to play or not." He says casually, placing the card on your bedside table while standing up. He reaches to your window, slightly leaning against the wall as he views your movement.

He eyes you holding the card, you contemplating it. Jungkook was ready to leave until something popped up in his mind.

"Oh, and Y/n..." He catches your attention as you glance at him "don't tell Taehyung, or there will be consequences." He didn't hesitate to tell you this, after all, it was simply just Taehyung's fault. You somehow managed to realise how many octaves his voice dropped down. It almost sounded like a warning and that made you tense. You drop the card on your bed, a strange question occurring to your mind.

"Wait, Jungkook... how do you know my name?" But as you look up ahead, he was no longer there, only the curtains swaying and a creaking window.

The next day, you were walking back and forth, wondering about the current situation you were in. Jungkook's warning got you alarmed- telling Taehyung will result in consequences. That's what he said, yet, you always tell Taehyung everything. Or mostly anything. How could you not tell him about this?

You wrote down the number on a notepad just in case.

Taehyung is playing this game, so shouldn't I be allowed to as well? You question yourself multiple times.

Why didn't he tell me?

How does Jungkook even know my name? Did he get it from Taehyung? They looked pretty close at the bar-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a ring, coming from your phone. You checked who it was and it was no other than your best friend.

"Hello?"

"Y/n, I've been knocking on your door for like a whole complete minute now, where are you?" Taehyung was knocking on your door, and you didn't hear him at all. Gosh, you were so in trance with your thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I'm coming right now." You hang up, running to open the door, greeted by a smiling Taehyung. You eye him up and down for a quick second. He wore a black leather jacket, with dark blue jeans. His hair looked extra spectacular today, and his lips were shining. Something about him right now, just made him look sexy. He licks his lips, gazing at you.

"Well? Aren't you ready for the day?" He asks.

"Huh, what day?" You were still occupied in your own thoughts.

"Friday? The day where we do whatever shit we want? Eating at your favourite café?" He rhetorically asks, expecting you to answer.

You peek behind him, glancing at the sky. It was dark and grey, gloomy and unsettling. It gave you an eerie vibe, and it was much different today. You didn't want to go, you just knew today wasn't the right day, and at this very moment, you didn't want to see Taehyung.

"U-uhm, is it fine if we.. you know don't go? I just don't feel well, so like-"

"That's fine, we can just hang out here." Taehyung cuts you off, ready to go further in your house.

Your hands land on Taehyung's shoulder, slightly pushing him back.

"No, it's alright, you should go, I don't want you to be sick because of me." You tell him, hoping it would convince him.

But of course, it didn't.

Taehyung snorts, removing your hand from his shoulder.

"Y/n, since when have I never taken care of you?" You froze, the card, now curled up in your fist was gripped even tighter. What Taehyung said, somehow made you feel nervous.

It was true though, Taehyung was always there for you. He was everywhere. You're at a mall and he would be there too or you're at a park and you would see him on a park bench, far from you. The point was, he always takes care of you, like as if he was a doctor and you were his close patient. Just always treating you, especially silently afar.

It sometimes made you wonder that Taehyung wasn’t just ordinary, he was just different. He was just as smart as you were, and you could tell that from the start. Though, you were much more naïve and so easy to grasp, especially to Taehyung.

The day he met you, he knew that this was a destined relationship. He had to make sure you were his, nobody else's. He wanted you only for himself, he didn't want to share like his Hyungs did.

Taehyung watched as your body tensed, muscles frozen and your eyes lost. He might have hit a nerve. Proceeding to calm you down, Taehyung puts his hand on your shoulder, your eyes finally making contact with his.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” You mutter, tucking a strand of hair. However, Taehyung notices your clenched fist, hands grabbing yours to see what you were gripping so hard.

He pulled out the card easily, your sweaty hands giving in and not helping at all. You gaze at him as he widens his eyes.

“Where did you get this?” He asks a little too loudly. When you don’t answer him, his hands grip onto your shoulders, tight. “Y/N, I said, where did you get this?” He repeats, anger glimmering in his eyes. You have never seen him this mad before, and it frightened you. The way those eyes narrowed and how it glinted with dark flames concerned you, especially because of the tightening grip he had on you.

“Y/N!” He says harshly, shaking you slightly. Terrified of his current behaviour you take a different turn this time.

“I got this today morning.” Lie

“From where?”

“I found it near the trash cans.” Lie

“Did you get it from anyone? Or found anyone who put it there?”

“No.” Lie

Taehyung searched your eyes but you made sure your tone was confident enough. He brings his face close to yours, just inches apart.

“You aren’t lying to me, are you?” He whispers very lowly, his hot breath fanning your face, making you shiver.

“I’m not.” You say again confidently. Taehyung was still in the same position for a couple of seconds before pulling away.

“You won’t be needing this,” he crumples the card in his large hands, ripping it seconds afterwards. You watch the tiny pieces floating in mid-air, slowly descending to the floor, just like how you would see visible snowflakes falling during your childhood.

“You should have never have gotten it in the first place!” Taehyung exclaims, kicking the wall so hard that it made you wince.

"What's so bad about it?" You barely let out a whisper. Taehyung heard, he turned around, querying you more. "You didn't call them, right?"

As if your body had let you down, you shook and broke yourself down. Crystal clear drops of tears were sliding down your cheek from the corner of your eyes.

"No! No, I didn't Taehyung, I didn't call them." Taehyung's demeanour changed within a second. He cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears away. Hugging you in a sense of comfort.

"Shh, look I'm sorry, please don't cry, I didn't mean it that way, I didn't mean for this to happen." He tells you, slowly pulling away.

"I wanted you to be safe." He mutters, lowering down to your level “I hope you get that.” He concludes. You nod your head, a small smile appearing on your face.

Ding

You could hear the text notifications coming from Taehyung’s phone. He takes it out and glances at the screen giving you a quick look as well.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he strolls outside. You stand and wait patiently, rocking from side to side. It was a habit of yours, especially when you were curious.

You suddenly hear Taehyung swear, his hand gripping onto his hair. He comes back in quickly telling you he has to go.

As he leaves, you watch him, making sure he fully left. Once you’ve checked, you rush back to your room, finding the notepad.

If Taehyung was going to be mad at you for getting a mysterious card, nearly scaring the hell out of you and left so quickly, then lord sure does know that he’s hiding something. And you were going to find out about it.

You grab your phone from your bed, the notepad on your lap, the number visible in black ink. Whatever safety shit he was talking about he should have told you what it was, what made him so frantic that he jumped at you, questioning you as if you were a suspect of murder.

What was so bad about the card? It was a game, you were told it’s a game. And if Taehyung’s in it, he shouldn’t be lying to you at all. If he was in the game and he didn’t tell you… well that’s a little ruthless, isn’t it? Especially as his best friend.

Dialling the numbers, you bring your phone to your ear, the ringing continuing for three seconds before it got answered. You gulped, hoping the tantrum that Taehyung did was something meaningful.

“Hello?”

#bts #jungkook #ot7 #yandere #angst #Taehyung #taehyung x reader #Wanna Play?#jimin #namjoon #Jin #hobi #yoongi #ch 1 #ongoing #3647 wordsss

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away.

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

feat. Miya Atsumu

Let me know if you like this, or if you’d like to see more! This is slightly different from what I usually write, so just a fun, simple experiment haha.

Masterlist link: here

Warnings: HORRENDOUSLY INDULGENT FLUFF WTF.

Miya Atsumu (Slytherin)

It was your bad luck to have been sorted into the same house as he and his twin.

Miya Atsumu is horrendously brash, cocky and an all around loud mouth.

You’d avoid him if you could, but you’re not only in his house, but you’re his quidditch teammate at that - the third chaser to the Miya twins.

He annoys you to no end in matches, pulling dangerous stunts that he and Osamu never test out first in matches, provoking their opponents, getting so focused on chasing the damn quaffle he never notices the bludgers coming his way.

‘Do you have a death wish or something?’, you snap at him after a practice match with Ravenclaw. Their normally stone-faced beater, one Tsukkishima-kun, was provoked enough by Atsumu’s taunts to send some nasty shots at Atsumu’s head.

‘I dodged all of ‘em, didn’t I?’ Atsumu crows, broom lazily slung on his shoulder. ‘And I plan on getting the better of glasses-kun, so stop being a worry wart!’

You storm off, cursing your luck again for ever having met one Miya Atsumu.

--------------------------------------------------------------

True to his word, Miya Atsumu continues to confound the Ravenclaw beaters in their actual match two weeks later. He and Osamu swan dive towards the ground before shooting up to the skies, pulling off flashy aerial tricks that make the girls in the spectator stands swoon, and you roll your eyes.

You don’t particularly like the glint in the blonde, cool headed beater’s eyes - call it intuition, but you can feel in your bones that something bad is going to happen.

Sure enough, when Atsumu’s back is turned to Tsukkishima, the blonde idiot bopping the quaffle with his head, having just scored a goal off Akaashi, the Ravenclaw keeper, Tsukkishima raises his bat and with deadly accuracy, smashes the ball right towards Atsumu’s head.

There isn’t time to think, let alone time to take a breath, and you’re just a hair removed from the ball’s trajectory - so you set yourself right in the bludger’s path. You only intended to stop its momentum with your broom, but the spin Tsukkishima put on it was unexpectedly vicious, and oh -

You’re falling.

Atsumu speeds towards you, but he’s a split second too slow, his fingertips missing yours by a hair.

The last thing you remember is Atsumu screaming your name before everything turns into darkness.

--------------------------------------------------------------

You wake up in the hospital wing. Your head is shrouded in bandages, and you’re cocooned in a warm blankets - and one suspiciously unwashed Miya Atsumu.

‘Did you even shower, smelly pig?’ you manage to croak through the pounding in your head.

He whips his head towards you, and for once, he doesn’t even bother to formulate a retort. ‘Thank god yer’ alive’, he breathes almost reverently.

You snort. ‘As if I’d die from a bludger shot like that.’

He chuckles, but the sound is strained. ‘Yer scared all of us, y’know. What were ya thinking, diving in and playing hero like that?’

You pause, wondering what exactly prompted you to play the shining knight to this obnoxious idiots.

‘I guess I didn’t want to see you get hurt’, you answer with startling honesty. He stares at you, taken aback.

Then he surges forward, and you squeak, worried that he’s about to squish you with his bulk, but stops right before your face, looking into your eyes with a quiet tenderness you’ve never seen before.

(It makes you want to swoon, like those damn girls in the stands)

‘Then how d’you think it makes me feel, seeing the girl I like get hurt cos of my stupidity’, he mumbles, before pressing the lightest kiss to your lips.

‘Atsumu! Nurse said to leave her alone and let her get some rest or she’ll throw you in detention!’ Osamu calls from the doorway, an amused lilt in his words.

The both of you stiffen.

‘I’ll see ya around, get well soon’ Atsumu hastily tells you, scuttling off in the direction of his twin.

You blink, tracing your lips with a shaky hand. Did that really happen?

Then you cast your eyes down towards the bedside table. There’s a pile of your favourite chocolates, and a card with Atsumu’s distinctive scrawl.

'Wake up so we can go to Hogsmeade together, okay?’

His sign-off on the card, which you note with some amusement, has been crossed and rewritten many times as if he were in two minds whether to keep it or not reads -

‘Love, Atsumu’.

#haikyuu!!#hq imagines #hq #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu romance #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #Miya Atsumu #inarizaki #hogwarts au

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mindofasupernova · 3 years

Text

The Inventor Part 2

Kaz Brekker x reader

Description: A killer is on the loose, eliminating Kaz's informants. In a desperate attempt, Kaz meets a certain inventor that has his mind racing, trying to figure out the complex puzzle she is.

Hope you like it, let me know what you think.

Kaz

A corpse? That's what she wanted? Did she think that he just kept all the bodies of his deceased workers in his room? How the hell was he supposed to get his hands on the corpse of one of his poisoned informants?

One day after meeting the young inventor, Kaz had sent Inej to gather answers to the Y/LN Manor. And just as promised, the girl had already identified most of the compounds, but due to "careless and messy manipulation", clearly referring to Kaz's pouch, she had been unable to determine a specific substance that acted as a catalyst. Inej returned to the Slat with Y/N's message asking for a meeting and a request Kaz wasn't exactly expecting.

According to Y/N, it was of the utmost importance for her to examine the body if she hoped to pinpoint the missing compound not to mention it provided a perfect opportunity for Kaz to tell her about how the poison had captured his attention.

Inej had returned later than usual, smiling and carrying a small brown bag that wafted a sweet and delicious scent. When Kaz had raised his eyebrows in question, Inej had told him Y/N had given her some recently baked cookies. He grunted in response and kept working, but his mind kept drifting back to the cookie bag and what that small act meant.

Inej was cautious but he also knew that she always searched for kindness in people. That snack could have been simply just a gift but Kaz wouldn't have made it this far if he considered all people as kind-hearted. Y/N was a stranger, a rich stranger from the highest of ranks of society who probably didn't care if Barrel rats like him lived or not. Y/N hadn't asked for a favor nor did she need money, she just wanted to know, that unsettled Kaz more than he liked to admit.

He had spent the day gathering information about her, her personal life, hobbies, and all the rumors he could find. He had found absolutely nothing that could give him an insight into the girl's intentions, he had finished empty-handed with the information he already knew: she was the only daughter of one of the richest men in Ketterdam, the perfect personification of a wealthy royal daughter, an innocent and pious little thing that went to Church with her family. Kaz scoffed at that, the defying look she gave her at their secret rendezvous accompanied with her enthusiasm for carving a corpse open proved she was far from innocent.

No, until he had more facts he wouldn't let his guard down. And yet, a small part of him yearned for her actions to be good-intentioned. Stop, hope is a dangerous thing. He had already made the mistake of hoping when he was nine and look where it got him.

Kaz returned his gaze to the papers in front of him, huffing in annoyance, he started writing down orders to get a corpse for Y/N.

_______________

Y/N : One day after the meeting

Y/N was quietly sitting at her vanity, a soft smile adorned her face, gaze completely lost on her new device when Inej, soundlessly crept inside her bedroom.

After Kaz Brekker had left the shop near the Church of Barter, she no longer felt the giddy spark she had when she left her manor. She couldn't blame Mr. Zhang for telling Mr. Brekker about their association, he was an old jumpy man who wished no trouble upon no one. She had left all the concoctions that Mr. Zhang had order, but she didn't show him her latest joy, she no longer felt as excited.

This new invention she had come up with consisted of a music box. But it was no ordinary music box, far from it. Y/N had noticed how most of the music boxes got damaged with time when the metal rusted and the music no longer sounded like a melody but more like a haunted house. So, instead of depending on metal to play music, why not use water vapor. Yes, she had spent four days perfecting the pressure at which each piston released the water so it was a perfect copy of one of the melodies in the Komedie Brute. Four days making sure that the amount of heat the flame distributed was enough to transform the water into vapor but not so fast it was gone before the song ended. And now, here it was, a vapor-based music box with a decorative firebird in the center that literally caught fire, warming the water below.

Mind too caught up on the mechanics of her own work, that, when the Wraith materialized from the shadows behind her, Y/N sent a rain of screws and nuts toppling down the floor when Inej's hand landed on her shoulder.

Wide-eyed, Y/N turned around to face the apparition in her room. The Suli girl raised her hands, to show she intended no harm and in a kind voice spoke:

"I'm not here to hurt you. Kaz Brekker sent me to check up on your progress."

With a sigh of relief, Y/N straightened relaxed her posture. "Why, of course, should have assumed Mr. Brekker would send someone. Please, take a seat. " with a small smile, she gestured to a plush burgundy armchair.

"As promised, I have successfully identified most of the compounds. However, I fear identifying the catalyst agent won't be possible unless I conduct a thorough autopsy on the unfortunate victim. The needle I was given was in an atrocious condition, too many foreign compounds had already interacted with it." Y/N answered, finishing with a hopeful tone.

Inej nodded her head and responded, "I'll let Kaz know, thank you Marchioness Y/LN." Inej turned around, making a bee-line for the window.

"You must not be thinking of going out in this beastly weather. Please, stay until this horrendous downpour ceases." Y/N quickly called back, wrapping her silk shawl around her petite frame, as if the thought of stepping outside was enough to send a chill running down her spine.

Inej hesitated, directing a fleeting glance at the crying sky outside, she resumed to her previous seat.

"Would you like a piece of Cinamon-coated Pavlova? I guarantee you won't regret it, the caramelized peaches are sinfully appetizing!" and before the Suli girl could respond, Y/N was rushing out of her room, the dainty patter of her heels clicking down the stairs.

Her room was exactly what Inej had expected: luxurious and overly grand. But there was something about it that Inej couldn't quite place, her room was tidy to the extreme, all the expensive perfume bottles lined up, gaps between that appeared as if they had been measured with a ruler. Nothing in her room showed a preference or indication of what she truly liked, at first sight, the room would have seemed like the perfect fairytale but now, upon close observation, the room looked generic, hollow, and cold. The spy wondered if all the riches were worth living into a life as impersonal as hers.

Y/N returned, carrying a tray full of fancy desserts Inej couldn't even pronounce.

"The baker proclaims himself a master of crème brûlées. I prefer his fruit-stuffed truffles, though. Mouthwatering" Y/N commented, gingerly placing the tray on her small mahogany table.

Y/N waited for Inej to take a bite out of the coffee tiramisu, after the Suli girl let a soft hum of appreciation, Y/N smiled and questioned: "I hope I'm not being too invasive, but how did you manage to climb all the way to my window? There are no nooks where you could have possibly held onto, you must have an incredible balance to perform such a feat."

And that's how Inej told her about her life as an acrobat, proudly sharing brief glimpses to her past, seeing no harm in the girl next to her. Y/N was more than happy when Inej started talking, she was glad the bronzed-skinned girl didn't treat her with timid whispers afraid of offending her royal title. It felt nice to have a normal conversation, being able to share honest opinions instead fake smiles and condescending words at galas, afraid that if the wrong statement slipped they'll become the next party gossip.

____________________

The morning after, Inej returned bearing Mr. Brekker's message agreeing to a nightly meeting where she'll be able to examine the corpse.

Saying that Y/N was thrilled, was an understatement, apart from a chance to put her brain to good use, it gave her the perfect opportunity to try a device she had specifically designed for creating an alibi while she was sneaking outside at unlikely hours.

Y/N hated piano. Don't get her wrong, it wasn't the instrument, it was the music, her music. Because for an unknown reason, her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own whenever she tried to. She admired the focus and dedication of musicians, she really did, but her mind easily got distracted thinking about her latest reading material instead of focusing on the notes. So, she had created a system capable of pushing the tiles as if her own fingers played the music. She knew it was wrong to fool her parents in such a way but it gave her a perfect cover to go in secret missions her parents would never approve of.

Proper ladies don't get excited over knowledge, much less probe in repulsive matters such as corpses. Look at you, Y/N, what would future suitors think if they discover you all cheerful over someone´s murder? The scandal! Zia Francesca's reprimanding voice resonated inside Y/N´s head. But she could care less about what the whole Ketterdam thought about her, science was her passion, and she would abandon it until the day she died.

Already outside, a navy blue scarf wrapped around her head to shield her delicate features against unwanted attention, Y/N waited for Inej at their chosen meeting point.

The sly girl slipped into view, with a grace greater than the one of a feline, leaving the shadows as if she and the night were one. With a brief nod, Y/N followed the girl into the awaiting hands of darkness. Leading her towards the Barrel, a place where monsters lurked behind every corner impatiently waiting to pounce any minute. Nonetheless, Y/N felt ecstatic, warm excitement pulsing through her veins, a river waiting in anticipation to break the thin modest facade she kept up to let her curiosity resurface in search of enigmas to solve.

When they arrived at a place named "The Crow Club", Inej went to get Kaz and some "others" and told her to wait. Y/N observed the lively atmosphere, seeing customers from different countries around the world when her eyes landed on a familiar head with wild red curls.

"Mr. Van Eck?" Y/N questioned in disbelief, the boy perked up at the sound of his last name, locking eyes with the hooded girl.

Never would she have imagined finding Wylan Van Eck down in the Barrel. She was shocked, Wylan supposedly should be in a music school outside of Ketterdam. Both belonging to affluent families, Y/N had met Wylan Van Eck at several parties. She hadn't gotten to know him very well, but she liked the quiet boy who shared the same look of misfortune Y/N had every time they were thrown into a classy social event. When his father had announced he was leaving to study abroad, Y/N was happy for him although she would miss being silently miserable together. But it appeared Wylan had been doing something far from studying, now sitting next to a tall Zemeni boy with his arm slung around his shoulder.

"Marchioness Y/N, I never imagined...W-What brings you here?" replied round-eyed Wylan, confusion, and astonishment written all over his features.

But before Y/N could respond, steps and the tapping of a cane interrupted their little meeting, Inej small silhouette trailing behind Mr. Brekker.

"So, you know Wylan?" he interrogated in that characteristic rasp, coffee eyes scrutinizing Y/N's form.

"Yes, Mr. Van Eck used to come to our social gatherings."

Wylan just nodded shyly while his long-limbed companion kept drowning shot like they were water.

Dirtyhands humphed in acknowledgment "Nice, know that we are all together let's go to...Jesper, I don't pay you to drink the bar dry. Get your ass down here and let's get moving so our dear inventor can examine the body, shall we?

"Wait, she is the contact you talked about?" the Zemeni, Jesper, questioned. Eyes going from Kaz Brekker to Y/N, as if this was some kind of joke.

"Wylan called her Marchioness? You asked for a royal's help?" Jesper asked, an incredulous mocking smile on his face. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz?"

Mr. Brekker scowled at him and without another word turned around not even waiting for them to follow.

"Well, nice to meet you, my lady. The name's Jesper Fahey," he said, bowing down and kissing her hand, sending her a mischievous wink.

"Very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Fahey. And please, there's no need for formalities, just call me Y/N." she comforted, as they finally reached the others. Glancing at the rest while finishing her last statement, prompting the rest to call her by her first name.

________

Kaz

Y/N radiated waves of elation, her whole face lighting up at the thought of an adventure, a star amid the tumultuous dark waters of Ketterdam helping him find his way to the shore.

Kaz wore an amused expression at Y/N's amused gaze roaming the dirty streets of the Barrel, a new unknown world full of carnage and sins. She isn't fit for the Barrel thought Kaz, her eyes dancing in amusement at every little detail that caught her interest despite her efforts to put on a serious face and regal posture. She probably saw wonderous adventures while Kaz saw the Barrel for what it really was: a ravenous, savage beast waiting to swallow the weakest whole and drain the lives of the ones who survived its ghastly bites. And somehow the concept that she didn't belong in this world, his world, made Kaz's heart wrenched a little.

During their walk, Kaz shared the details about the latest killer on the loose and his dead informants, all the while, Y/N remained quiet, evaluating every one of his words.

When they arrived at an abandoned building, a single man was stationed outside, leaning on the tainted wall with a tired look in his eyes. Kaz nodded at the guard who gave him a set of keys and trotted out of sight. Kaz guided them inside, careful no prying eyes had followed them. Kaz turned on the lights, briefly disconcerting his companions, and pointed to a table with a big bulk covered by a dirty cloth.

"As you requested, the unfortunate victim" announced Kaz as Y/N placed a small suitcase she'd brought with her forensic equipment and tenderly pried the cloth covering the thing that once had been alive.

Y/N didn't bat an eyelash when she saw the corpse's face, not even when Jesper started gagging or when Inej turned around and started quietly mumbling prayers to her saints. Kaz focused on her face, the calm inquisitive look of a scientist, he had expected a gasp at least. Kaz was impressed by her cool analytical demeanor when a simple glimpse of the man was enough to send Kaz back to the ocean, rotting flesh beneath his fingertips. Kaz shuddered at the thought, forcing down the vomit rising in his throat.

"If you need an assistant, Jesper is willing to help" Kaz stated, stabilizing his voice so it wouldn't show his true feelings.

"What?! Me? Umm..no...I...Helping isn't a Jesper talent." Mr. Fahey said, a fearful look in his eyes, face white as a sheet. Kaz hoped he didn't look as terrified as him.

Y/N stopped her scan, looked up at the two boys, and with a small smile spoke: "I appreciate it, but there's no need. I'm certain I can handle it on my own."

Quickly discarding her coat and scarf, pushing back the sleeves of her rouge-colored blouse, and pulling long laboratory gloves over her hands along with a white apron over her head, she set up to work.

Kaz stared at her features, as she transformed into an eager forensic, light illuminating her face, falling in the right places giving her an otherwordly glow. Rebellious strands of hair framing her forehead, a pink hue staining her cheeks indicating her joyous state. The sight before him would have put any masterpiece to shame, Kaz wondered how she could stare at a corpse and find glee in such a morbid image. But Kaz liked it, the brilliant gleam her eyes portrayed, her childish joy at the promise of adventure.

The spell was broken when she started pulling out scalpels, syringes, and other items Dirtyhands couldn't bother to learn the name of. Pulling the flesh taught beneath her fingers, Y/N made a Y incision, skin splaying open.

Cold lifeless hands gripped Kaz's throat. his brother's icy whispers brushing his skin. He turned his head away and as if perceiving his discomfort, Y/N's bewitching doe eyes stared back at him.

"You can wait outside if you prefer to, I'll notify you when I'm done." her gentle voice reached and Kaz couldn't have been more grateful.

With a sharp shake of his head, Kaz limped towards the exit, Jesper, and Inej quickly following his movements.

--------

After Y/N finished, she eagerly started explaining her findings, a prideful gleam emanating from her.

"Well, Mr. Brekker I must admit this case is a peculiar one. The simplest ones always prove to be the most challenging."

"Here I thought that after years of fancy tea reunions you'd know the meaning of a vast number of words. I'll be sure to buy you a thesaurus." mocked Kaz, a wolfish smirk creeping onto his face.

The inventor frowned at his comment, racing her chin higher, and started her rant, thoughts racing to prove her point.

"Oh no, Mr. Brekker do not confuse simple and easy. Simple is straightforward, plain facts to the observer. Ordinary details are hard to pinpoint, effortlessly found everywhere, which makes it harder to find unique characteristics that could serve as means of identification since their nature is so elementary." Y/N spoke swiftly, pacing around the room, eyes never faltering from Kaz's.

"And that's exactly what happened in this case. As I had mentioned, my extraction wasn't entirely successful, for an essential reactant was missing. However, it wasn't the only reason why I insisted on examining the body, no, a very simple and ordinary substance appeared when I separated the poison: Helianthus annuus or more commonly known as sunflowers." Y/N paused glancing at their surprised faces, clearly pleased with their reactions, she continued, the corners of her lips tugging upwards.

"You can imagine my surprise when I found sunflower pollen as the main component of the poisonous agent. I ran several more tests and the result remains the same, our killer is using these lovely flowers as a weapon. Now, back to the catalyst, the easy part of the equation. This component isn't as fastidious as the previous one, why, you may ask. Well, its vast majority consists of average materials but a small percentage of it contains alloys that are only produced in Ketterdam, that combined with the peculiar way they were fused, suggests a Grisha alkemi made this solution." Y/N concluded, grabbing a piece of paper and hastily writing before she handed it to Kaz.

"There are no signs of struggle, meaning either they knew the attacker or they were taken by surprise. A swift prick to the femoral artery, a clear pathway for the poison to reach the bloodstream, infecting the body within seconds."

"It shouldn't be very hard to find the alkemi. They aren't very popular and most of them are indentured. Here is the list of all the reactants, the specifics, and where I believe you might find them. " finished the girl, looking at the trio expectantly.

"If you don't mind, I have taken a sample to examine more carefully at my house. I'll try to find any details I might have overlooked."

Briskly reading the list, Kaz frowned and then pocketed the small scrap of paper. "First thing tomorrow morning, ask around for an alkemi who might have bought these materials. "

Kaz turned to look at his fellow crows, content with their nods of approval, grabbed his cane, and sauntered towards the door. Her chemistry knowledge was astounding, a marvelous domain of anatomy, and an even more gifted engineer from what he had heard. Hers was an indeed beautiful mind, not that he would ever tell her.

"Mr. Brekker?" her light voice shattered through the gloomy night. Kaz craned his neck, gaping back at her in question.

"Is there perhaps a place where I might be able to tidy myself up?" Y/N questioned, Kaz finally looking at her messy red-stained apron and her exposed arms displaying strokes of red all over them.

Kaz hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring the girl back to their home. "You can use the restroom back at the Slat." The girl had risked her reputation sneaking out on ill-advised affairs to help them, it was the least he could do.

"Thank you" Y/N replied as she carefully peeled her apron, attentive at not brushing her arms against her blouse.

___________

Once she had freshened up, Y/N stumbled upon the young Van Eck talking with a couple. The green-eyed girl was about Y/N's age, a generously carved complexion, holding the hand of a tall Fjerdan.

Y/N inclined her head as a form of salute, "I never pegged you for the rebellious type, Mr. Van Eck. I never thought you hated music lessons that much to run away." she told him in a joking tone.

"And I never thought you were the type to sneak out at ungodly hours just to play detective. " Wylan replied, a grin beginning to form on his face.

"Well, I suppose everyone has secrets."

"You must be Y/N, Inej told me you were the help Kaz so desperetly needed. I'm Nina, he's Matthias and well you already know Wylan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Inej had briefly mentioned them, she knew now that Nina loved food, maybe next time she'll bring those exquisite truffles she had so eagerly talked about. If there is a next time Y/N reminded herself, she desperately hoped so, but now that her work was done she wasn't so sure Kaz Brekker would ever seek her again.

"Well, you have saved me the introductions." Kaz sarcastically glowered at the green-eyed girl, Nina kept talking as if she hadn't heard him.

It was one thing for Kaz to admire her intelligence, it did not mean he trusted her, though. Pieces were still missing to the intricate puzzle she was and until that changed Kaz did not like the way she rapidly befriended his crows, her intentions were still blurry to Kaz, and even though he would never admit it he cared deeply about their well-being.

"You should stay a little longer, we could go for waffles as a way of thank you." prompted Nina.

"Your offer is very tempting, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I should be returning home." Y/N declined, grinning at Nina, blissful someone had invited her for waffles.

Kaz stared at her and wondered how many times someone had done something similar, not to thank her but rather to use her, so that such a simple gesture put her in a joyful state.

"Scared of what your parents may do if they found out the truth?" Kaz quipped once his crows had left the two of them alone. A teasing tone masking true concern.

"Terrified. Someone may notice I've been playing the same four songs for the last couple of hours, always missing the same notes every time and they might get ideas of checking up on me," she confessed, mischief coating her features.

"Good night, Mr. Brekker. I'm happy I could be of assistance. Please, let me know if you find your killer or if my experience is needed again."

Kaz just bowed, signaling for his Wraith to get Y/N back to her manor in one piece.

Both girls disappeared into the night, leaving Kaz pondering what the hell she had meant with playing the piano.

___________

Y/N

Almost two weeks had passed, no signs of Kaz and no visits from the Wraith, well not that she was aware of. Y/N caught herself glaring at no point in particular, she readjusted her expression and plastered a well-practiced look of keen interest, trying to focus on Lady Stathos' rant about the attractiveness of the Viscount of Chagny.

Y/N politely excused herself, with no intention of making a fool of herself if Lady Stathos posed a question related to her gossip.

Too busy drowning in her own sorrow, knowing that Kaz had probably captured the culprit and was happily celebrating his success and no longer needing Y/N's help, that she stumbled forward, barely catching herself when someone bumped her from behind.

When Y/N turned back around, searching for that someone, she was met with a sight she had only seen once in an abandoned warehouse late at night. One that made her mind scream: Helianthus annuus.

Mercher Dupont's eyes were deranged, veins gruesomely popping and blood spilling from his lips, before toppling in the middle of the dance floor, taking his final breath.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone #imagine #six of crows

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falsegoodnight · 3 years

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these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, podfics, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with *.

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 25th and any fics read after will be included in next month’s fic rec list because otherwise this is going to be obnoxiously long.

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main list ~

✰ black cherries and chocolate by @harryanthus | NR | 666 (intense and jarring in the best way. this leaves you with that heart-racing feeling and panic crawling up your throat)

There is something or well, someone in the walls.

✰ keep secrets just to keep you by @hadestyles | T | 1k (loved this so much!! and need 1000000 more royalty abos from rori immediately)

“With the elements as my witness, I take you to be my husband. My heartbeat begins with you and ends with you, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis sinks to his knees as well, salty tears mixing with the pure rainwater. “And I take you as mine. My heart beats for you and with you.”

✰ bitter coffee and sweet love by @dontfuckwithmyotp | G | 1k (so cute and sweet!! proud of you ari for getting your first fic out and excited to see what you do next!)

“Hello! Welcome to The Busy Bean! Are you new?” Louis blinked in surprise at the voice and looked around to find the source. “Behind you,” The person tapped his shoulder once and he whirled around at the unexpected touch.

“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to interrupt a person—” His rant stopped when he finally faced them. It was a guy—Harry Styles, according to his small black name tag. His eyes widened in embarrassment.

✰ turn your mic off, baby by @vogueharrystan | E | 2k (i love when lilli writes harry’s pov. this was so hot!)

Louis walks around the house naked all day and ignores Harry to play video games instead. Harry gets tired of it.

✰ This Could Be Love by mulletharry | G | 2k (such a cute and perfect little valentine’s day fic! put the biggest smile on my face <3)

Harry and Louis have been together for four months. They spend their first Valentine’s Day together.

✰ you appear as my soul by @hadestyles | T | 2k (so gorgeous and raw)

He aches — not as much as Louis, he could never imagine all that he bears quietly — and as cruel as it sounds, it keeps reminding him of how fragile they are.

✰ the energy from your body by sweetielouis | E | 3k (hilarious, hot, and cute!)

Harry and his friends have a popular podcast, for the Valentines Day special they get a bit drunk and talk a bit too comfortably about their friends arses.

It's a good thing Louis doesn't mind it all that much.

✰ look how i remember by @harryanthus | M | 4k (this left me speechless and aching)

He hates it, he wants to scream and tell Harry as much. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me as if we are in love. Kiss me like you will never do it again. Kiss me with so much hatred that it turns back to love.

✰ Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup | G | 5k (so so cute and funny!!)

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

✰ reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress | E | 4k (adorable and funny and amazing!)

Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'

✰ dancing in the moonlight by @outropeace | E | 5k (need 100k more of this immediately, thanks. so wonderful)

Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

✰ The truth is, the stars are falling by larrysbeanies | E | 5k (hot!!! walking-in trope that i love so much)

Harry knows Louis is gay. Hell, he came out to Harry exactly two months ago (when the dreadful dry spell started) because it was becoming increasingly hard to hide the fact that his one night stands were men. And, you know, they’re best friends so there aren’t supposed to be secrets and all that.

Thing is, Louis told Harry he’s gay ergo, Harry is aware that Louis likes men. Why the fuck did he act so normal while fingering him three days ago, then? Is this something straight guys do to their gay best friends in Harry’s world?

Louis would really like to know.

✰ to be used and to be in love by @thelesserneptune | E | 5k (blessed that this is a series. really hot and cute!)

Louis doesn't know why his filthy best friend turned into a vanilla boyfriend and thinks of the perfect birthday present to solve that problem.

✰ on the borderline by @princelouisau | E | 8k (the way danielle writes... poetry. this broke me down and then stitched me back up <3)

Louis makes his choice.

✰ One Step Closer by agrinwithouthiscat | G | 12k (reading asexual hl fics is instant comfort and this was lovely)

The one fake relationship AU where they don't end up together.

✰ i glow pink in the night by @raspberryoatss | E | 12k (hybrid louis perfection, beautiful writing, characters, and story as always!)

Harry reads a lot of articles about hybrids and Louis is determined to prove them wrong.

✰ The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by @speakingwithink | G | 13k (asexual hl again! this one made me cry)

Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.

✰ Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice by @harriblou | M | 13k (enemies with benefits to lovers goodness! so hot and entertaining)

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”

Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.

“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

✰ hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas | NR | 16k (this writer’s atmosphere/prose draws me in every time. such a lovely story)

Harry's in the army, Louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

✰ The Future is Now by @jacaranda-bloom | E | 16k (love fics in this five times format and this one was so unique and cool!! and the friends to lovers aspect = chef’s kiss)

Five times Louis follows the fortunes to seek out his true love, and the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.

✰ Visceral Heat & Carnal Highs by @theisolatedlily | E | 18k (the prose in this... gorgeous. so fucking good and addicting. delighted that there’s going to be a sequel and excited for whatever lily does next!)

Louis is a demon at a house party prowling for a meal, indulging in horrendous sins to satisfy his hunger. Harry is the talk of the night, beckoning all eyes on him and the reason why Louis’s plan goes awry.

✰ deFENCEless by @solvetheminourdreams | T | 27k (this was so cute and so funny and i had the biggest smile on my face the entire time. not surprised since stef always evokes that in me with her writing)

When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

✰ darling, you give love a bad name by snowcaplou | M | 29k (been waiting for this one since summer and i wasn’t disappointed! so wonderful and real!)

Louis’ has been best friends with Gemma all his life in this stupid little town he’s grown to hate. What happens when, after one night together with his best friend’s brother, he falls pregnant? Surrounded by small minds and conservative cultures, Louis has to deal with parents that demand they do the “right” thing. Get married before anybody finds out.

✰ The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson* by @helloamhere | T | 31k (will never not be an all-time favorite. louis’ character is my absolute favorite - gothic heroine indeed - and harry is the best dramatic gay ghost ever <3)

Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

✰ begged and borrowed time by @bottomlwt | M | 40k (this concept was so unique and so cool!! loved the medieval setting and the time travel and how everything fit together in the end!!)

“It wasn’t until 1568 that it became time for Prince Harry to find a queen and prepare to rule. However, the day he was set to choose his bride-to-be, he mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again despite the multiple search parties that went on through the years. To this day, historians still do not know what happened with the infamous Prince Styles case..."

✰ Lidocaine and Palm Trees.* by @daddyharrie | E | 45k (definition of ris comfort read - on nth reread and still love it wholly. makes me miss la which is an astonishing feat in itself)

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

✰ haunted by the ghost of you* by @missandrogyny | E | 49k (perhaps my favorite fic of all time? the humor, the characters, the angst?!?! all the britney spears!! and pink ouija boards and wikihow!!)

He’s tall—that’s the first thing that registers in Louis’ head when he spots him, standing with his hands behind his back. Tall, with curly hair, staring at them with the widest, greenest eyes Louis has ever seen. And wait, are those dimples? Louis didn’t know ghosts could have dimples.

Because he’s definitely a ghost, this boy. At first glance he looks normal, standing there pigeon-toed in a band shirt (The Ramones, Louis can’t help but note incredulously), dark jeans, and some boots, with rings on both hands, and tattoos littering his left arm—a sleeve made of anchors and names and roses and other completely unrelated things. But he’s also a little bit translucent; if Louis focuses, he can see the outline of the furniture, the design of the wallpaper through him.

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

✰ like real people do by @eeveelou | E | 64k (this was... so amazing. the characters were so wonderfully written and so was the journey of healing and growth that louis undertakes over the story :’) loved the contrast between l and h’s lives and how they fit into each other still so perfectly)

Jessica Jones AU in which the dead stay where they belong, featuring Zayn as the high-powered lawyer with a hopeless crush on his assistant Liam, Niall as the constantly stoned but strangely insightful neighbor, Harry as Manhattan’s media darling, and Louis as the never-was hero who’s just trying to pick up the pieces.

✰ Black With Autumn Rain by whimsicule | T | 93k (i actually can’t remember if i’ve read this before??? either way - it was wonderful! loved the setting and atmosphere and the supernatural elements! i was so intrigued from the first sentence onwards)

Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

podfics ~

✰ tall stories on the page by @soldouthaz & read by @softlouislove | T (hannah’s voice is so lovely and perfect for reading aloud - and ofc the fic itself is amazing)

Harry's tired of being interviewed by people that only care about the same pointless gossip. Louis is a nice change of pace.

wips ~

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved | E | 60k | 6/16 (just caught up fully today but i’m really enjoying everything! this is everything i’ve ever wanted in a fantasy fic)

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies | E | 39k | 3/10 (having a blast reading this one!! i’ve never seen the bachelor in my life but in fic-format, it’s so fun!)

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

✰ The Night Still Whispers Sins of Old by @toomanydreamers | E | 6k | 2/? (loving this so much, as expected. can’t wait to see how everything unfolds)

Two and a half years have passed since the fateful day when Louis and Harry were crowned Triwizard champions. Confronted with misunderstandings, wounded pride and heartache, Louis stumbled away from the possibility of a future relationship with Harry. Instead, he buried himself into relentless work as a junior Auror and refused to let himself be vulnerable with another person. Circumstances change that force Louis to confront his feelings - and Harry. Stolen glances, picnics at sunrise, thrilling adventures, original spellwork, midnight feasts, soft lips and cautious second chances culminate in an unforgettable mission - but will it be enough to mend their relationship?

non-1d ~

✰ like a bullet needs a gun by @millsxwriting | T | 21k | wilds au (despite me having no context, mills still got me to fall in love with toni and shelby. this was so cute and lovely!!)

Toni doesn’t expect to fall for anyone in her senior year. Least of all for Shelby Goodkind, the new girl that arrived in town just before the end of summer. In fact, Toni can’t even look at her for longer than two seconds, or listen to more than three sentences coming out of her mouth without wanting to accidentally push her off a cliff.

Cue a group project and endless bickering, and suddenly Toni finds herself with an unbearable crush.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

#fic recs #my fic recs #28th appreciation #february recs #2021 recs #february 2021 recs #scheduled

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

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Lie To Me

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Request by Anon: Nestor but with the angst prompts 28: Move out of my way before I make you, 37: Lie to me. I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again, and 47: You deserve so much better?

Warnings: angst, language

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This angst doesn’t have a happy ending, unfortunately. It was a tough one to write, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Also, if you were curious, prompts are from This Post

General Mayans Taglist (I don’t have one specifically for Nestor lol): @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @amandinesblogofstuff @bucky-iss-bae

You weren’t usually one to show up unannounced to Nestor’s place. You knew what kind of life he lived, and that it wouldn’t always be smart or safe to just pop in whenever you felt like it. But things had felt so off lately. He got distant frequently because of work, but it wasn’t that. This felt calculated, intentional. You were used to getting late replies and going to voicemail every now and again, but lately it felt like he had been purposely dodging your attempts to get in touch with him. Your initial instinct was to try and reach out to Miguel, because you knew that it was work that was keeping Nestor tied up, but the more you thought about it, the less you wanted that man knowing anything about your personal relationship with Nestor. And that was how you ended up making the decision to drive over to his house in the middle of the night, knowing that he would be home by that point.

Sure enough, there were dim lights on in a few of the windows. You took a deep breath as you parked the car and cut the ignition. You walked up to the front door, not bothering to knock as you took out your copy of the key and let yourself in. Usually, he came over to your place, and the key he gave you was for emergencies, but you didn’t care. It might not be an emergency like he was thinking, but you felt like you were on the brink of breaking down.

He heard the door opening and instantly grabbed his gun, pointing it at the door as he stood up off the couch. When he realized it was you, he immediately lowered his weapon. He couldn’t hide the frustration on his face, though.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too,” you mumbled as you closed and locked the door behind you.

“Everything alright?”

You threw your hands up in exasperation, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, Nes?”

There were a few beats of silence as he tried to figure out how to approach the situation. He knew you well enough to know that you weren’t just going to walk back out the front door without some answers. Half of you wanted to step in and wrap your arms around him in a hug, and the other half wanted to shove him hard enough to send him stumbling backwards a few steps. Neither half won out, though, and you let your feet stay glued to the floor at the entrance of the living room.

“I told you, shit has been out of hand with work,” he knew even as he was saying it that it was a cop-out, and a weak one at that.

“Yea. You told me that about two fucking weeks ago!” you shook your head, feeling tears starting to sting at your eyes, “I’ve been sitting home worrying about you. Every time you let me go to voicemail I’m always left wondering if it’s because you got fucking shot or run off the road or something horrendous that I don’t want to even try to imagine,” you ran your hands over your face, “Something’s gotta give, Nestor. I need something.”

“Nothing I say is going to make you feel any better, Y/N. I have no good news to give you.”

“You not being dead in a fucking ditch somewhere is good news to me,” the lump growing in the back of your throat was forcing you to focus on your breathing, “You get that, right? Radio silence freaks me out. A call or a text just saying that you’re alive and in one piece would make me feel better.”

“Well,” he stepped closer to you, holding his arms out slightly, “I’m alive. I’m in one piece. Feel better?”

It wasn’t like him to be so intentionally short and cold with you. It almost felt cruel, and you wondered what you did to make him act this way. Your tears began to spill over onto your cheeks. You wiped them away quickly, not wanting to be reduced to a mess so soon into the discussion. You didn’t want to seem that weak for him.

“What is so wrong with me wanting to know that you’re alright?” you wanted to yell, but your voice was soft.

You were met with silence. You could tell from the look in his eyes that his mind was racing with everything that had been going on the last few weeks when he hadn’t been communicating with you. You knew that it was probably serious shit—that was never something that you were trying to deny. But even in the depths of everything, finding five seconds in his day to text you that he’s wrapped up in shit with the Galindos but that he’s alive shouldn’t have been an impossible feat.

“I try not to think about you when I’m working,” he finally said with a slow shake of his head, “When everything is fucking falling apart, I can’t afford to be thinking about you. Because then it doesn’t feel like the work is worth it, and that’s not a mentality that I can have when my ass is on the line.”

His words hit you and it felt like they had knocked the wind out of you. For you, Nestor was something to motivate you through the tough times. Sure, tough times for you were drastically different than for him, but the sentiment was still the same. If you weren’t a light at the end of the tunnel for him, then what was the point?

“Then what the fuck are we even doing?” your voice broke as you buried your face in your hands.

He stepped in close to you, pulling you into his chest. He cradled the back of your head with his hand, softly kissing the top of your forehead. With a heavy sigh, he spoke, “The things we deal with, the things I have to do…I want you as far away from that as possible. When I’m doing the things that are asked of me, things that would make your skin crawl, I can’t be thinking about you. Because all I would think about is how you deserve so much better. And that would fucking break me.”

You pushed back off of his chest so you could look up at him, cheeks wet with tears, “There’s no better, Nestor. I want you, this, us. That’s all that matters to me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to try and make that work. But I can’t be the only one doing that. I can’t keep this together by myself. You need to give me something.”

There were so many things that you wanted him to say. You wanted him to promise that it was all going to be different, that he was going to try. You weren’t foolish enough to believe that things would change overnight, but the attempt to start would mean the world to you. You just wanted some reassurance that when push came to shove, he’d choose to fight for you, for the relationship the two of you had worked so hard to build.

“Things aren’t simple for me, Y/N,” his hand rested tenderly on the side of your neck, thumb running back and forth along your jawline, “you know that.”

You kept your cheek rested against his chest, “Do you love me?”

His body tensed, “What?”

You pulled back, looking up at him, “Do you love me?”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly, “You know it’s not that sim—” his sentence was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off.

Both of you turned and saw it buzzing on the coffee table. Your heart sped up, wanting to see if he was going to choose whatever it was over what the two of you had. You gnawed at the inside of your cheek, praying that he was going to let it fall by the wayside so the two of you could talk and try to figure everything out.

“I need to get that,” his voice was low, and you knew that he knew he wasn’t making the choice you wanted. You shifted and stood in front of him, blocking him from the low table. He sighed and tried to step around you, but you continued to block him. He shook his head, “Y/N, please.”

“You’re really going to do this? Now?”

“Move out of my way before I make you,” he couldn’t meet your eyes for more than a moment as he shifted you out of his way.

The phone call was quick, and from only hearing Nestor’s half of the conversation you couldn’t try to piece together anything that was going on. It was the side of his life that you didn’t get to be a part of, and in that moment, you truly didn’t give a damn what the issue was. You just wanted him to be present in the conversation with you and he couldn’t even give you that.

Despite the anger pooling inside you, you asked, “All good?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Nes, please—”

“Stop,” he was still quiet, but his tone was harsh, “Stop. Don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answers to. Anything you ask me right now is not going to make you feel better. And I’m not going to do that to you. I can’t afford to be honest with you right now.”

Tears started to fill your eyes, “Then lie to me,” you closed the distance between the two of you. You stood directly in front of him, close enough to touch him but you didn’t, “I don’t care what you say, just lie to me. Make me feel okay again.”

Nestor searched your face and you could see it in his eyes that there were a million thoughts running through his head. You knew that he was caught up between what he wanted, and what he was actually capable of. He wanted to give you everything that you were asking for, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. For as much as he cared about you and wanted to protect you, his loyalty was somewhere else. You didn’t know if that would change down the road, but there was part of you that knew that neither of you were going to wait in limbo for him to figure it out. It stung, though, and you could feel that it hurt him too.

He leaned down, cupping your face and pulling you into a rough kiss. You let yourself get lost in it despite the tears that were streaming down your face. You moaned quietly as one of his hands slid down to grip onto your waist and pull you as close as he could manage. Being pressed up against him so tight felt like home and you could feel the knot grow in your stomach at the thought that this might be the last time you got to have that feeling.

He pulled his lips off of yours, allowing both of you to catch your breath as he continued to plaster your cheek, jaw, and neck in kisses that felt needier than anything you’d ever experienced before. It sent jolts throughout your entire body as his fingertips pressed harder and harder into your skin.

“I love you,” he murmured against the skin of your neck before placing another kiss there, “I love you.”

You shut your eyes tight and leaned completely into him, trying to burn the memory of this into your brain. You knew he was lying, but it still felt good and that was all you cared about in the moment. You rested one hand on the back of his head as he buried himself further into your neck.

You choked back a sob, knowing that one of you had to be honest, “I love you too.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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