#also why the fuck are their model noses so small. i just noticed that. anime has done irreparable damage to the state of noses in art

[blueskittlesart]

nintendo hire me i have tons of marketable skills like uhh *checks notes* drawing your characters wrong

#honest to god i drew this link thinking like 'there's no way this is gonna be that bad right' and then i pulled up his model. god #babygirl you are everything to me but why the fuck are your eyes like that. ugly hot king #also fully forgot that i never actually use the eyedropper for his hair bc i think it looks better w a redder tone #OR HIS EYES LMAOOO i always just use the champion's tunic blue even tho they are very much 2 different colors #zelda is a liiiiitle closer i think but i had to draw skinny zelda for this which hurt me a little bit #it is interesting to think abt the features i subconsciously choose to emphasize tho bc like. in my mind her hair clips ARE that big #but theyre rlly. actually not that big an element of her design LMAO #same w link's ponytail. logically i know it doesnt actually stick out like that but i desperately need to know its there at all times #also why the fuck are their model noses so small. i just noticed that. anime has done irreparable damage to the state of noses in art #anyway. #skribbles

[graniairish]

Walking on eggshells

So this is my first own story here. I hope it is written in an understandable way. (Please ignore any grammatical errors. English is not my mother tongue.)

Title: Walking on eggshells

Words: 6761

Warnings: language (some explicit words), harassment and insults, heartbreak

Summary:

Daryl and reader have been close friends since the early days in Atlanta. They are deeply in love with each other but have no clue about it.

At some point new people join the community, including a young woman who is immediately after Daryl.

Reader is not exactly thin, no size zero, but also not fat, rather curvy, feminine. Even in this apocalyptic time. (you are just the way you are.)

Daryl has withdrawn more and more from reader, avoids contact. Reader believes he does that because he now has a perfect woman by his side.

However, Daryl avoids reader because he does not know how to deal with his feelings.

One day reader goes on a run that goes wrong. To save their group, the reader does a suicide stunt, that can cost her life.

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

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

Those were the first words Daryl Dixon had ever said to you.

It was still at camp in Atlanta. Daryl stood over you, the sun behind him, as he looked down at you as you made a stew from a basket full of leaves and mushrooms.

“Believe it or not, I know what I'm doing here. My mother taught me as a child which mushrooms and plants are edible, and which can be used as medicine."

He nudged his nose up in a nod.

"If ya say so."

With that he dropped something in front of you.

"Maybe the whole thin’ tastes like somethin’ with that," he said before he turned around and made his way back to his brother.

Your eyes followed him - confused. Only then did you notice that he had thrown about a dozen freshly hunted squirrels in front of you.

Maybe the grumpy redneck was not that bad after all, you thought to yourself with a smile as you started to skin and gut the dead animals.

It was not long before a friendship developed between you. You were the only one he really let near him after the disappearance of his brother and Sophia's death. And after the farm was overrun by Walkers, he was by your side to comfort you.

He was always there for you, just as you were for him. You cared for each other.

But you only noticed how deep the feelings really were on your side when Daryl - after the incident with Woodbury - had turned his back on you and everyone else and disappeared into the woods. Just to be with his brother.

The realization that you were infinitely in love with the withdrawn redneck hit you hard. And just seeing him walk away hurt you so much that you could not breathe.

Without knowing it, Daryl had broken your heart into a million pieces.

It felt like he took a part of you with him.

More and more you withdrew from the others. From time to time, you even slept in the old management office of the Prison, far away from the cell block, from everyone else, from your family. You just wanted to be left alone in your grief and heartbreak.

In the first time you had gone through hell emotionally and a psychological breakdown would not have been long in coming. And if it had not been for Maggie, you probably would not have found your way back.

She had been your solid rock and, without you really noticing, had become your best friend - your sister.

And after a while it got better. It did not hurt that much anymore. Although it was not quite true. It still hurt - hurt infinitely - but the distances that those waves of grief hit you grew larger.

And then suddenly Daryl was back.

It was a shock to you.

And the moment he moved back into his cell in the cell block, you moved out. There was no trace of you or your belongings in the whole building anymore.

Quietly, and without anyone noticing, you moved into the management's office - permanently. The thought of being so close to him - physically - without actually being able to be close to him was just unbearable for you.

And so you had retreated.

Daryl did not seem to mind. It almost seemed as if he had not even really noticed it.

You hardly had any contact with each other. He rarely talked to you, and if he did, then only what was necessary and as monosyllabic as possible. He even seemed to be avoiding you.

But that's how life works - hard and unfair.

And you cannot choose who to fall in love with.

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. But it only worked like that in movies and love songs, right? It did not work that way in real life, at least not for you.

As time goes by you had devoted all your concentration to your small farm. Your mother taught you how to handle plants as a child. In your previous life - before the apocalypse - you also had a vegetable garden with which you mostly tended yourself. So you knew the job and it was easy for you.

You lived in your own little world where you worked side by side with Rick and spent your meager free time with Maggie. Sometimes Carol would join you, but you had already noticed that she somehow always dropped a few comments about Daryl.

You did not want to talk about the redneck, let alone think about him. So, you ignored her as best you could - or at least her suggestions.

But it was not that easy. Your whole prison family knew how deep your feelings were for Daryl. No matter how hard you try to hide it, hide yourself from it.

Then Woodbury fell. New people came to the Prison and with them a young woman - Michelle. Probably only in her mid-twenties, model type, blonde, pretty. A typical homecoming queen.

To you, she made it seem like she had never worked hard in her entire life. She was the type of person who always muddled through, for her own benefit.

And just a few days after moving in, she was permanently on Daryl's heels. She asked questions, talked to him, spent most of the days near him.

But worst of all, she was openly flirting with the man you loved, and he did not seem to mind. Your stomach cramped painfully at the sight, and you had not been able to eat for two days.

Your heart, painstakingly patched together, broke one more time. After that you had avoided Daryl and his blond girl for almost a week, avoided them like the devil had shunned holy water.

But it could not go on like that. And at a certain point you realized: as long as Daryl was happy, nothing else mattered. At least for you.

To make matters worse, there was that cruel little voice in your head that kept whispering to you why Daryl was interested in Michelle and not you. It kept talking to you, all the time.

And then the little wheels in your head started spinning until you were caught in a vortex of thoughts.

She was thin and delicate; you were rather well built.

Her shoulders were narrow; yours were broad.

Her stomach was flat; but you had unmistakable love handles.

She had a firm, shaped ass; you childbearing hips - as your mother used to call it.

Her golden blonde hair always fell in gentle waves down her back. You always had your y/h/c ones in a messy bun. And after hours of hard work in the gardens, you always looked like a half-plucked chicken.

You would never have any chance of comparing yourself with this beautiful, gorgeous woman. Michelle was perfect.

You were just you.

But the worst part of this whole thing was that this woman could not leave you alone. She had won, the man was hers. What else did she want from you?!

Every now and then she dropped small comments, out of the earshot of others. But so that you could hear them very well.

"Hard to believe how one can be so well fed.”

“Are you secretly eating your way through our supplies?"

"Given your size, a whole bunch of Walkers could get fed up with you for a week."

It hurt, hurt infinitely. But you were willing to endure everything. You did not want to make a scene. Did not want to get upset, maybe to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

In the depths of your heart, you only wanted one thing. You just wanted Daryl to be happy. Everything else does not matter to you.

But what you failed to notice in all your self-doubt and self-sacrifice was: Daryl was not happy.

You were both blind to each other's intentions, had no idea why the other acted the way he was doing.

But the inner circle of your family, especially Maggie and Carol, knew what was going on. And having to watch the two of you - while you did not notice it yourself - slowly but surely drove everyone to despair.

The whole thing was like a fucking soap opera!

You and Daryl had barely spent time together and avoided each other as best you could, so you had not noticed all the little signs that spoke volumes to all the others.

How his ears turn red when you have been near him.

How he sometimes looked at you a little longer than others.

How he changed his shifts in the guard tower just so he could take care of you when you were near the fences during your work.

The moment Daryl faced you for the first time since his return, the floor was torn from under his feet. When he saw your y/e/c eyes looking at him, he felt his heart swell. Warmth spread in his chest and he had thousands of butterflies in his stomach. The redneck had never felt anything like that before and it terrified him.

It was something he could not handle.

He knew he screwed up when he left you because of his brother. The way you behaved towards him was unmistakable. Daryl did not want to endanger the little friendship that was still between you. He could not risk losing you for good.

So he gave you your freedom and just adored from a distance - without you noticing.

But from a certain point in time all his thinking was focused only on you. Or rather, to hide what he really felt about you - how much he loved you.

Daryl was so busy hiding the love he felt for you that he did not even notice how much this young woman from Woodbury was constantly flirting with him. Of course, it had not escaped him that she ran after him like a lost puppy; and yes that annoyed him.

But weren't all of these newcomers a pain in the ass?

He was not interested in this blonde woman, not a little bit. Daryl does not care about her; he does not even listen to her most of the time.

If he was honest, he did not even know her name.

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

In the last few weeks, it had become routine for the redneck to be on guard duty in the early hours of the morning. Not just because he was an early riser- and finally got some peace up here from the intrusive people from Woodbury - but because you went to work in the vegetable gardens shortly after sunrise every day.

And from high up there he had the opportunity to watch and admire you unnoticed.

You have always been used to working hard, and everyone who saw you knew that you had no problem with it and that you could lend a hand. Rick once joked that you could overshadow any Amish when it came to your work ethic. You just shrugged your shoulders and replied that you had no problem with that as long as you didn't have to pray for hours.

So you and Daryl spent the mornings together - without your having a clue about it. You, lovingly watching over the plants in the vegetable patches, he on the guard tower, lovingly watching over you.

As the sun rose higher and higher on its way across the sky, it made the sweat shimmer on your skin as you patiently devoted yourself to each of your tasks without taking a break. The black tank top you wore on that hot summer day stuck to your body and framed it perfectly. Your figure was like an hourglass, and each of your curves came out sensually.

At least as far as Daryl could tell. For him you were perfect, just like you were. He could watch you for hours without getting tired of it, could watch you for the rest of his life.

Only when the crotch of his jeans became uncomfortably tight did the redneck look away from you. His thoughts had taken a suggestive course, and the images that emerged in his head were by far no longer suitable for minors. Daryl would surely spend this evening in his fist again - dreaming of how you would feel lying under him, how you would smell, how you would taste, and what sweet noises would come over your lips if he would touch you where you needed it most.

"Everything's okay," he heard a familiar voice next to him.

Damn it, did the time really go that fast? Was his shift already over?

"Are you okay? You seem a little distracted to me."

Carol had come to relieve him. But Daryl, in his fascination for you, had not even noticed her.

"’m okay."

"Yes, of course, and your thoughts were on the task in front of you the whole time."

There was unmistakable amusement in Carol's voice. With a knowing smile, the woman leaned on the railing and watched you work for a while.

"Can you please finally tell Y/N that you love her. So that we can finally all get on with our lives? It's really not nice to see you two walking around each other on eggshells."

Daryl was embarrassed. He was caught with his hand in the cookie jar by Carol. Still, he tried to stay as cool as possible.

"I have no idea what ya're talkin’ about."

But the woman was not easily fooled. She knew very well what was going on in the man in front of her. Just as she knew how you felt about him.

"I hear what you say, but your ears say something else.”

Daryl flinched. Sometimes he hated the way his body betrayed him.

“What the hell,” Carol had to keep from laughing “I didn't even know that they could get so red."

"Stop it woman."

Again and again, Carol tried to get her friend to finally confess his love to you. Because in her eyes you were both wasting valuable time. And being able to spend time with loved ones was the most important thing now.

You had not noticed any of this. You were too busy tying up the tomato plants and removing the leaves so that they brought the greatest possible yield. After all, many mouths had to be fed, and you all needed supplies for the coming winter.

And it was precisely these necessary supplies that prompted Rick to ask you to go on a run the next day with others. Of course, you immediately agreed, after all, everyone went on these runs at some point. It wouldn't be your first time, and certainly not your last time, that you would take part in something like this.

But who could say that in these uncertain times?

What you did not know at the time was, that Michelle would be there too. Maybe then you would have refused. But now you sat in the back seat of the pickup truck in silence, staring stubbornly out the window.

Michelle just a few inches away from you.

It had been clear to Maggie from the start that this constellation would not bring any good. However, even the young woman would not have expected what dimensions the whole thing would take. And in what a heartbreaking catastrophe it would end.

During the entire journey Glenn and Maggie tried to break the mood. The four of you sat in the truck and drove a few hours until you finally arrived at your destination.

It should be a simple thing - in and out, quietly, quickly, unseen.

But what no one had expected was the behavior that Michelle had displayed when it came to doing her part. She had absolutely no desire to be actually a part in this job.

And Michelle let the three of you feel that very clearly.

She neither wanted to help find the necessary supplies nor carry them; even found it outrageous that she had been asked by Rick to join in and risk her life. She had never had to do this before, why now?

It took you so much strength to stay calm and not yell your opinion on Michelle's face - or beat her across the street.

You did not like this woman, not a bit. For you, she was a narrow-minded, self-centered, selfish slut who cared about only herself. And what Daryl saw in her was incomprehensible to you.

But when Michelle began to risk all of your lives because of her loud behavior, even Maggie's patience ran out. The eternal insults in your direction were just the cherry on top. Maggie would have liked nothing more than to give this snotty brat a huge slap in the face.

But to make a shitty day even more shitty, that was unfortunately your smallest problem.

Michelle's loud complaints drew the attention of more and more walkers, and at some point, you had difficulties getting back to your car.

You had just successfully cleared a pharmacy when you saw the horde slowly approaching on the street.

That was by far the worst scenario, and your greatest fear.

It was all happening so quickly, and the only thing you thought was that Michelle had to make it back to the Prison alive. You could not risk Daryl losing someone he loved again. No matter what a fucking bitch she was. You knew it would destroy him.

The way back to the pickup was long and the Walkers unfortunately closer than wanted. The heavy backpacks did not make it any easier to escape them quickly. So you stayed back when Maggie, Glenn, and Michelle started running back towards the truck. You knew your partners needed a distraction to make it through.

And what could be a better distraction than you.

"Come to me you damn motherfuckers! Here I am! Come and catch me you bloody bastards! You ugly fuckers!" you screamed on top of your lungs, tried to make as much noise as possible.

The walkers slowly turned to you and came to hunt you down - to kill you. You would be their lunch. Scared to death your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you thought it was about to pop out.

From that point on, you could not remember anything. Your brain just shut down, went into survival mode. You only ran on instinct, no more active thinking.

In a way, like the Walkers you tried to escape from.

Maggie turned when she heard your voice, and the blood froze in her veins. She thought you were right behind her, but you were still near the entrance to the pharmacy and the horde of walkers was on the way to you.

"Y/N!" her voice was desperate.

She was about to turn back to you – to help you - but Glenn could not and would not let that happen.

"Come on Maggie, we have to get the car. We'll come back for her; I promise."

Glenn took his girlfriend's hand and pulled her forcefully with him.

Michelle had not noticed anything of that, she was the first to take a seat in the pickup and firmly locked the passenger door behind her.

When Glenn finally started the engine and Maggie - now in the back seat - turned her eyes back to the pharmacy entrance, you were gone.

Your best friend was in a panic.

"Where is she? Oh my god, where is she?"

Only then did she see you on the canopy of the building - the backpack with the bandages still firmly strapped around you.

"On the roof, Glenn, she's on the roof! We have to get her!" the young woman screamed in desperation.

She could not and did not want to lose her friend. Not now and not like this.

“and preferably before these things figure out how to climb”, was Glenn's addition when he turned the truck and drove towards the pharmacy.

"Are you crazy," squeaked Michelle, "do you want to die just to maybe save her life?"

Maggie's eyes darkened, and Glenn realized immediately that she had now reached the limit. Another word from Michelle and his girlfriend would feed this woman to the Walkers with no trace of guilt.

"You shut up now, bitch! You're to blame for all this shit. If you’d shut your damn mouth and done what we've all done hundreds of times before, none of this would have happened! These fucking things would never have noticed us."

Michelle gasped to give Maggie a neat answer, but Maggie was faster.

"If I hear one more word from you, if you just beep, I'll feed you to these Walkers!"

Michelle's reply was interrupted by the gruesome sound of breaking bones as Glenn brutally drove through the horde of walkers who were now confused and trying to understand what was going on around them.

You were still standing on the roof. Your gaze was focused on the scene before you but not fearful, as if your self was not there at that moment.

"You have to jump," Glenn called to you when he brought the pickup to a stop right under the roof.

And with that you jumped onto the back of the truck. The fall was higher than expected, and there was a thump as you hit the flatbed. Immediately Glenn had accelerated the car again and drove away as fast as he could in the direction of Prison.

Desperate, Maggie kept calling your name, but you just did not answer. Maybe you were in shock. After all, it was not common practice to voluntarily sacrifice oneself as a meal for these monsters.

A few miles out of town, Glenn finally stopped the car, and Maggie was by your side in an instant. But she was not prepared for what she saw. You were passed out and a small pool of blood had formed under your head. The thud she had heard - when you landed - had been your head when it hit the loading wall.

"Oh my God."

Immediately Maggie was at your side, looking for your pulse with trembling hands. And there it was - weak - but she felt it.

"Please open your eyes Y/N/N", the young woman pleaded as she lovingly brushed the hair off your face.

"Maggie?" Glenn's voice was timid, almost frightened, as he stood next to the pickup and stared at your broken body.

"We have to get her to my father as soon as possible!"

Maggie's harsh words seemed to loosen Glenn from his stupor.

"Okay, no problem, I can do that."

And with that Glenn was back behind the wheel and gave full throttle. Maggie stayed with you on the flatbed, took off your backpack and trying to stop the bleeding on your head.

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

Rick and Daryl were in the courtyard of the prison, discussing the next runs when the pickup truck drove through the gates with screeching tires. It was immediately clear to both of them that something bad must have happened.

Without wasting time, the two men ran towards the car.

"What happened", Rick called out.

But Daryl could not hear Glenn’s answer. Everything around him fell silent and vanished when he saw you - bleeding, passed out - in Maggie's arms.

Without thinking further, he jumped on the flatbed and leaned over you. He caressed your pale cheek with trembling fingertips before desperately looking for a pulse on your neck.

Frightened, he held his breath until he felt it, your heartbeat.

Even but so weak.

"We have to take her to my father."

Maggie had not even finished the sentence when Daryl had already taken you in his arms - bridal style - and was on the way to the infirmary with you.

With a lover's desperation, he clung to you as he ran all the way.

“Don't do this to me. I beg ya, please don't die to me."

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

Daryl never left your side for a moment. He sat like a statue and held your hand. He did not say a word, did not move. Neither when Hershel examined you, nor when he sewed your laceration.

He listened quietly to the vet's diagnosis and what he thought might happen in the next few hours or days.

Only when Maggie came with a bowl of water and a cloth to wash off the dirt and blood did he break free.

"Let me …" Daryls voice cracked, and the knot in his throat made it difficult for him to say anything else.

He took everything from Maggie's hand and put it on the little table next to your bed.

The redneck looked broken. The young woman could clearly see how much he loved you. And she knew that if you died, Daryl would vanish. He would just cease to exist.

“I'm so sorry,” Maggie said quietly, and a tear rolled down her cheek, “I thought she was right behind me. But … but she wasn't."

"It's not ya’ fault." Daryl's voice was barely perceptible.

Slowly he dipped the cloth into the warm water and began to carefully wash the blood off your face.

"Daryl I’m ... I’m"

"I know."

“Y/N is strong, she is tough. She will be okay."

Daryl just nodded absently while he concentrated fully on washing the blood off your temple.

And so Maggie left the redneck alone with you in the infirmary.

With trembling hands, he began to clean your neck. Little by little he washed your whole body- took care of you quietly and lovingly- making dirt, blood and sweat disappear, made you as clean as he saw you before you went on that fucking run.

Then he sat there, hour after hour, just looking at you, holding your hand. You looked so fragile. You lay there injured and pale, almost like a corpse. Only your quiet, even breathing told Daryl that you were still with him.

Inside Daryl, everything contracted painfully at the thought that you might not wake up again. Slowly he leaned towards your face. He looked at every birthmark, every wrinkle, every freckle, as if he wanted to burn them into his memory.

“I don't know if ya can hear me,” he finally began with a trembling voice.

“But I ... I ... I “, he had to laugh bitterly.

“’m a bloody coward. Why can' I jus’ say it?"

Daryl took a deep breath, he had to get his fear under control somehow. He had to tell you. He would never forgive himself if he did not do it now.

What if you died.

"I love ya Y/N. 've been in love with ya since ... I actually have no idea how long. But I love ya. I should have told ya much earlier. I don' know why I didn't. But I love ya."

Daryl fought back tears but lost.

"Oh God please, I beg ya, please come back to me. Give me a chance to show ya how much I love ya. Just one chance to prove myself to ya." and with that Daryl collapsed on top of you, crying and sobbing.

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

It took you two days to open your eyes again. Two days in which Daryl had not left your side. Two days of going through hell and back again. In which even he had sent a quick prayer or two towards heaven.

It was as if you had been awakened from a deep sleep far too abruptly. And it took a while before you knew where you were. You felt dizzy and tired. Your head hurt like hell. And you were confused.

First, why you were in the infirmary, and second, why Daryl was sitting next to your bed looking like he had not slept in days – your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispered, "how are ya feelin’?"

"Tired", your voice was scratchy from not using it for a long time, "my head hurts."

“You hit ya head bad. Hershel had to patch ya up."

"What happened?"

"Can't ya remember."

"No ... Yes …. but not ... not really ... only up to a certain point."

You were nervous, were not used to Daryl being so close to you. You did not want to make a fuss about yourself, and yet you liked the attention this man was giving you.

“I can still remember the horde of Walkers who came up to me, but then … nothing ... I can't remember what happened then."

You had not noticed that tears had started to run down your temples until Daryl lovingly wiped them away with his thumb.

"Hey ... shh ... take it easy. Everythin’ is okay. Everyone’s fine. Please don't get upset, ya have a concussion. Hershel says ya need a lot of rest now."

And suddenly you were silent. Never before had Daryl spoken to you with such a loving tone in his voice or had touched you in this way. You did not understand what was happening here.

But he said you had a concussion. Perhaps it was to blame for this filter through which you noticed this whole interaction.

“I'll let Hershel know that ya woke up. I'll be right back; promise."

Confused, you looked after the redneck. Something had happened that you had no idea about. But you did not want to worry about it now. Your head hurt too much, and you just wanted to sleep.

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

When you opened your eyes again, Hershel was sitting in the chair on which you had previously seen Daryl.

"It's nice to see you again with your eyes open Y/N," said the older man with a friendly smile, "you worried us very much."

"‘m sorry. "

"It's okay. How do you feel?"

"Okay. Tired, head hurts."

"Something else?"

"No, except that I feel like I'm wrapped in cotton wool."

Hershel sat and listened to you before nodding.

"Daryl said you can't remember what happened."

"Not really."

"Don't worry, that's nothing unusual with this type of head injury."

He patted your shoulder encouragingly.

"Will I be able to remember one day?"

"You know kid, sometimes it is really good not to be able to remember some things."

"Probably."

“But now you should rest first. I know you have questions, but answers will come later. After all, you have to regain your strength."

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

You knew you had slept, but not for how long. Because the next time you opened your eyes, Carol was sitting on that same chair. But there was something else. Could it be that it smelled of her venison ragout?

"How are you, Y/N/N?"

"Still tired, but the headache is almost gone."

"Good to hear. You gave us all a real scare."

"I'm sorry."

"Especially Daryl. I've never seen him so frightened."

You looked questioningly at the older woman next to you. You were used to it that she kept dropping allusions about Daryl - at least when she talked to you. But you just did not understand that statement at all.

Daryl was never afraid of anything. Why would he ...

"Well. Are you hungry?" Carol had a friendly smile on her face when it broke your train of thought.

At that moment, your stomach made a loud rumbling noise.

“I'll take that as a yes,” smirked the gray-haired woman, “Daryl went hunting so that I could cook this. He knows it’s your favorite."

Unsure you looked at Carol before you took the bowl from her hand and slowly began to eat. It was true, that was your favorite food - if there was such a thing at all in times like this.

"You know that he loves you," she suddenly began out of nowhere

"Of course, we are family," did you try to belittle the matter.

“Okay, let's reformulate the whole thing again. Daryl is in love with you, absolutely and one hundred percent madly in love with you. A 'you're the only one for me' love. Without any misunderstanding."

When she said that, you choked on the stew right away and now you sat in front of her, coughing and snorting.

“And I know you love him too. So don't try to deny it at all. Everyone here knows that. Or how blind do you think we are? Although ... apart from Daryl. He has no idea. He probably wouldn't even understand if it bites his ass.”

At this picture you had to laugh.

“Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith in order to reach their goal. You two really have to start talking clearly to each other. You two belong together like pepper and salt Do you actually notice how much you waste your precious time? Neither of us knows how much of it is left. You should know that now, because honey it was damn close."

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

Sleeping was your main occupation right now. A concussion took time and a lot of rest to heal. So it wasn't uncommon for your life to consist of short scenes at the moment.

With a sound - like a purring cat - you stretched in the hospital bed before opening your eyes. You no longer had any sense of time, and only the sunlight falling through the barred windows told you that it was probably afternoon.

"Hey."

Only now did you notice that Daryl was with you again.

"Ya feel better?"

"Yes."

Daryl seemed kind of nervous. But that wasn't possible, why should he?

"I've been here before, but ya slept and I don't want to wake ya", his words just gushed out of him.

Could it be? Was he nervous?

"Okay ... yes ... uhm ..."

You were easily overwhelmed with this situation, and somehow your head just seemed to have been swept clean. You could not find any words.

"We take turns. Hershel thinks there should always be someone with ya. Because of the concussion. Rick has already been here, and Maggie of course."

"And Carol."

"Yea."

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For the food. Carol said you went hunting especially for it."

"No problem."

“I still appreciate it. And for ... that you are here ... with me."

He nudged his nose up in a nod.

And then there was silence. The conversation with Carol kept going through your head. What she said. Could it really be true?

You knew that Daryl has always been more of a man of action than a man of words. And it was clear to you that if you did not take the first step now, you two would probably never get anywhere.

"Carol spoke to me", you started when you sat up

The man across from you was obviously nervous now. You could tell all too clearly by the fact that he was starting to chew the inside of his cheek.

"With me too."

"Apparently something like an intervention is going on here, could that be", you smiled, trying to loosen up the mood a bit.

"Seems so."

Daryl looked at you for a few moments. You could see the wheels turning in his head.

"I'm a coward, Y/N," he finally began.

You had expected a lot, but not a statement like that.

"No, you’re not. How did you come up with such an idea?"

"I was a complete idiot and too cowardly."

"What are you talking about Daryl."

In your opinion, this was going completely wrong right now. You actually wanted to tell him you loved him, and now it seemed to end in a vortex of self-doubt.

"I love ya, Y/N.”

And with that your thoughts became silent.

“I am terribly in love with ya. And out of fear I didn't say anything. But then I saw ya lying on the flatbed of that fucking truck, covered in blood and passed out. At that moment, my heart stopped. And I swore to myself that when ya're okay again, when ya've got throu’ this, that I'll finally tell ya what I feel for ya. Y/N I love ya. "

During Daryl's monologue you forgot how to breathe and just listened intently while thousands of butterflies fluttered around in your stomach like they're having a bloody party there.

It took you some time to realize that Daryl was waiting for a reaction from you as he gnawed his thumb in fear.

"I love you too," it gushed out of you before you even realized you had said something.

And then there was silence again. You and Daryl just looked at each other. Unsure what to do now. After all, you were both in uncharted waters.

"And ... and now," you asked uncertainly.

"Don't know," Daryl just shrugged.

"I mean ... um ... are ... are we ... together now?"

You carefully ventured out of cover.

"Um, yea ... if ya ... if ya want that."

"Oh my god, yes please", you replied in one breath.

Suddenly the tension between you had dissolved and you both had to laugh. It was so surreal. Two adults acted like teenagers in love who had no idea what to do.

But then Daryl slowly leaned in towards you. Your heart was pounding when you could finally feel his breath on your face. But before your lips touched, he stopped. He wanted to give you the opportunity to evade him if you did not want this.

But you wanted it, wanted it more than anything else in your life. And when you had overcome the last few inches, you finally felt his lips on yours.

The feeling was amazing. As if at that moment an electric shock had run through your whole body, and at the same time it was like coming home.

Everything around you no longer existed, was no longer important. Here and now, it was just you and Daryl. The way his lips moved with yours, how his fingers slowly ran up your arms until they were in your hair.

Everything was so intense. And when you finally parted to take a much-needed breath, Daryl leaned his forehead against yours.

"Ya have no idea how long I've been dreamin’ about this."

"Probably as long as me."

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

When Rick was about to visit Y/N in the early evening hours, he saw Carol and Maggie standing in the door to the infirmary.

"Everything's okay," he wanted to know.

The two women turned around with their index fingers over their lips.

"Shhhh."

Both did at the same time.

"Be quiet and come here," Carol whispered, "you really have to see that."

Rick approached the two women curiously. What could be so interesting that Carol and Maggie were half-hidden behind the door, staring into the infirmary?

He was confused, but when he saw what fascinated them so much, his heart swell. A satisfied smile played on his lips, as he was seeing what was going on less than five paces away.

Daryl was lying - half sitting - on the bed. His back supported on the wall behind him. Y/N was snuggled close to him, head on his chest and her arm wrapped around him. Absently, the fingers of his right hand traced patterns on her upper arm as he read to her from an old paperback.

Everyone could see the love that bound these two people. And thank God the two finally understood that.

"Seems like we finally have a happy ending," said the former deputy with a broad smile.

"Thank God", Maggie exhaled, "nobody wanted to watch this puppy love shit anymore."

“Yes,” laughed Rick, “but you have to admit there was something exciting about the whole thing. As if it had been our very own little soap opera."

"You're right, but I prefer my best friend happy."

"And what do we do now. I mean this seemingly endless heartbreak theater has come obviously to an end."

"Gossip- Rick is afraid he'll get bored?"

Maggie's voice was teasing.

"No, that's not how it was meant."

"Don't worry, Rick," said Carol with a smile, "I think the whole thing has a sequel anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, has someone told Michelle yet?"

All three looked at each other with big eyes before they having to resist laughing convulsively.

This story could get really interesting after all, they agreed.

part two

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x Reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x plus size reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl imagines #daryl x reader #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine

[realcube]

hq!! boys with a short s/o

navi | masterlist | taglist

thanks to anon for this cute request

characters:  kenma, noya, bokuto, & oikawa

trigger warning: swearing, sexual references, 

kenma kuzome 

♡ bc you’re smol you can slip into his lap while he plays on his switch and since he can just peer over your shoulder, he lets you 

♡ also bc you are so - in his own words - compact..he kinda goes a bit rough on you bc he doesn’t know his own strength sometimes

♡ like he comes back from practise - having just bet up lev who’s like double his height, then pretends as though he’s the gentlest, most cuddly guy alive

♡ for instance, if you sit on his lap while he’s doing something important, he’ll push you off but bc he is quite strong and you’re quite small, you literally go flying across the room

♡ he also like the fact that he can place his chin on top of your head while hunched over 

♡ bc his posture is horrible which means that most ppl are up to his nose when he’s standing comfortably (and by comfortably i mean when his back is lookin like the letter c)

♡ but not you though bb

♡ he can rest his chin on your head WHILE messing up his back so thanks 💞

♡ also this is kinda unrelated but he probably enjoys seeing you cosplay as some of his favourite characters that are around your height

♡ idk he just seems like that sorta guy lol

♡ probably likes it when y’all get dirty in cosplay too yk

♡ and he constantly compares you to anime characters/ video game characters then makes comments accordingly lol

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

upon feeling kenma’s eyes momentarily shift from his nintendo switch onto you, your immediate response was to meet his gaze, shooting him a brief smile which quickly fell into frown upon hearing his following statement, “you’re around the same height as meliodas from seven deadly sins.”

you blinked rapidly, about to shrug him off and go back to whatever you were doing under you heard a “disgusting.” slip from his lips..so pounced on him. 

“KENMA! YOU CAN’T JUST CALL ME DISGUSTING BECAUSE I’M A SIMILAR HEIGHT TO AN ANIME CHARACTER YOU DON’T LIKE! DON’T  YOU HAVE AN--” to which kenma will just laugh and pretend like he’s trying to pry you off him when he’s actually really enjoying the feeling of you on top of him.

yū nishinoya

♡ he is the short king™

♡ so he’s honestly so happy that not only does he get to be in the presence of his soulmate, but you’re also shorter than him 😍

♡ and i think having a shorter s/o would really help him with his body image 

♡ sorry to get serious on y’all so quick but i kinda think noya is secretly VERY insecure 

♡ he just has a ‘fake it till you make it’ sort of attitude in regards to his confidence

♡  but having a shorter s/o - especially if you’re really powerful, strong, confident or outspoken - would really give him an ego boost bc not only is he like ‘yep! that’s my star!’ but also everything you do is just so impressive to him

♡ also since you’re around the same height as him, sometimes he forgets that he can’t just jump on you and expect for you to hold his weight like he does with asahi, tanaka, tsukishima etc 

♡ so now you’re always on hyperalert when you pick him up from practise just in case he tackles you to the ground again

♡ it’s happened multiple times even when you were paying close attention though so i’d suggest just wearing a helmet next itme

♡ YJUHGFF he’s definitely the sort of guy to hype you up to his friends after you do the bare minimum

♡ and he ALWAYS mentions your height unless you tell him to stop 

♡ (he just wants his friends to know that just bc they are vertically gifted, they are no better than you or him >:(( keep em humble, yk? ) 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“yep! they’re getting their photo taken at this professional modelling company thingy with all those cool, chunky camera and the bright lights! they’re basically a model- and a few inches smaller than me so, perhaps short is the new sexy.” noya boasted with a casual shrug, feeding off of the amazing looks he was getting from hinata, tanaka and yamaguchi. 

upon noticing that yamaguchi was falling for nishinoya’s exaggerations, tsukishima chimed in, “short is definitely not the new sexy.” and before nishinoya could retort, tsukki hummed, “anyway, model, huh? what brand are they modelling for?”

noya’s lips curled into a bright smile and he clicked his tongue, almost to say ‘glad you asked’, before declaring proudly, “their passport!”

kōtarō bokuto

♡ another one that doesn’t know his own strength 

♡ especially around you 

♡ like he squeezes you SO tight when hugging that you basically suffocate

♡ and his grip on your hand is always unreasonably strong too so never let him hold your dominant hand or else you won’t be able to hold a pencil for another week

♡ and sometimes he pinches your cheek when he thinks you look especially babey and jesus christ he could leave a bruise

♡ god forbid you’re watching him practise and he makes a killer spike then he turns to look at you with starry eyes--

♡ ...

♡ RUN 🏃‍♂️💨

♡ mans will chase you around the whole gym to pick you up and twirl you to celebrate his spike 

♡ the problem occurs when he holds you so close to him that you suffocate from his reek of BO

♡ he spins so fast that it makes you feel extremely sick and dizzy

♡ ALSO let’s not forget that one time he accidently let go of you a few seconds to early and you went fucking flying across the gym and landed on onaga’s water bottle 

♡ not only did you have to awkwardly hobble to the bathroom with soaking wet leggings so you could change into your spare pair, you also felt obliged to buy onaga a new water bottle 

♡ if you tell him to be gentler plz do it nicely or else he will be sad :((

♡ yeah he treats you like you’re his 7″0, ripped, basketball player s/o but you’re not 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

why were you here? why did you think this was a good idea to say yes to? oh, yeah, it because he gave those adorable damn puppy eyes that you are physically incapable of saying no to. on the bright side, perhaps he can use those puppy eyes to get you a free hearse driver for your funeral - which was sure to be soon.

through, your funeral planning was cut sort by bokuto chirping, “are you ready, babe?!” 

you sighed, arms outstretched as he stood with his back facing you, ready to trust fall onto you once you gave the ‘ok’. or so you thought. 

“yeah, bo. go o--” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before you felt bokuto’s muscular back suddenly weigh down on your arm. you tried to hold him up, - you really did - but both the surprise of it and his weight was enough to make you come crashing down with him. 

“(y/n)! you had one job!”

tōru oikawa

♡ you’re his baby

♡ or at least, he treats you like one sometimes

♡ he says he treats you like a prince(ss) but everyone knows that he acts like you’re his first born child

♡ bc he literally carries you everywhere

♡ taking a brisk stroll on the beach? oikawa will force you to get on his back and use the excuse that he doesn’t want your clothes to get dirty 

♡ you’re in the mall and you even suggest that your feet are sore/ you’re tired? he’ll carry you bridal style anywhere you want to go - literally does not care if people are giving him weird looks 

♡ drunk? he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you home 

♡ just chilling on the couch? he’ll approach you, scoop you up into his arms and walk around the house 

♡ it annoys you sometimes but it can really come in handy other times

♡ like for instance, at a festival

♡ if you both get stuck at the back and you’re struggling to see the stage bc of all the literal giants looming in front of you, he’ll let you hop on his shoulders 🥺

♡ he probably teases you for it though lol

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“awh, can the small one not see the stage?”

you furrowed your brows, outstretching your arms to him - probably the first time you ever actually asked him to pick you up, so you prayed that he'd take you up on your first offer without you having to beg. “yeah, can you help?”

this oikawa you’re talking to; the petty king. so instead, he gave you some solemn advice before turning his attention back onto the performance, “try growing a few inches-- who am i kidding? a few feet.”

“rude.” you spat, fretfully looking around for a moment before coming to terms with the fact you’re not going to be able to see the performer, so you decided to just try vibe with the music instead.

“(y/n).” you heard oikawa call from beside you, so you turn your head to look at him then noticed that he was crouched on the ground, “what are you waiting for? get on.” 

#haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #kenma x y/n #bokuto x you #oikawa toru x reader #nishinoya headcanons #kenma fluff #kenma x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa imagine #oikawa x you #oikawa scenarios #nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya scenarios #nishinoya imagine #oikawa fluff #bokuto fluff #bokuto x y/n #bokuto hcs #kenma hcs

[mortedeveles]

AHHH that last mha headcanon was amazing tysm! You did great!!♡♡ Could I ask for another one with the same boys? (baku,tenya & izu!) With a crush who draws a lot? Like maybe they doodle while in class and while on break, 'cause they're bored? And the bois get curious because they're ALWAYS drawing while in the middle of class and they space out! Bonus points if the bois check their notebook and there's dumb doodles of them doing/saying something funny and some with little hearts around them. ^^"

thank you!! of course, anon! here you go, I hope you like it! a friendly reminder that my REQUESTS ARE OPEN! feel free to request lovelies! i’m ready to write for whatever you guys have in mind. i have a project coming up in 1-2 weeks and i think you guys will like it 👁️👁️! i’ll be posting the bonuses of model for me soon enough and a new series (not bakuhoe) will be posted as well! so stay tuned for more <3 as always, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! support and feedback are ALWAYS welcomed! <3 

PAIRING: IIDA T. X GN!READER, BAKUGOU K. X GN!READER, TODOROKI S. X GN!READER

THEMES: humor, fluff. [HEADCANNONS]

TW: cursing

IIDA, MIDORIYA, KATSUKI, TODOROKI WITH A DOODLER!CRUSH READER

Frankly, school can be quite boring. Even though you're in the hero course and you learn extraordinary things, it doesn't exclude regular civilian subjects such as history, math and so.

When you lose focus in class, you like to redirect your attention to doodling. It's fun, relaxing and effortless- it's also quite time-consuming and you've spaced out of class many times.

When you space out, you lose the function to pay attention to your reality- and ever since the first day you started doodling in class, you never noticed a pair of curious eyes watching you.

IIDA TENYA

Iida Tenya is quite the gentleman. He's also known for being strict and keeping the chaotic class 1A in order- (well, try and fail many times, but he does his best.) During classes with Aizawa, the majority of the classroom is quiet- but he always hears intense scribbling from your seat.

Usually, he does his best to ignore it and focuses on the class but you're his crush- and the fact that he always hears intense scribbling every day is quite concerning. But one day, he can't take it anymore.

It's a hot and sweltering day, it doesn't help that class 1A just finished hero training and even though everyone hit the showers afterward- the classroom is boiling.

Iida's neck is drenched in sweat, Aizawa's flat and tired voice drones on and he hears furious scribbling behind him- it's all giving him a headache.

Slowly, he turns around and stares blankly at you. Your head is lowered, hand sketching in your notebook. Your movements are fluid and bold and your arm is propped lazily on the desk, leaning your head against it.

He feels his nerves calm at the sight. But then he remembers that he's class president- you're not paying attention in class and that is not okay. Iida opens his mouth and delivers a long speech. Tenya is strict- but he's not stupid- he lowers his voice so he won't embarrass you in front of the class.

After his long speech, he expects you to look sullen or simply understand where he's coming from- but instead, you're snickering with a smile.

''I'm sorry, Iida. I just space out of class all the time and I like to doodle,'' there's a playful pout on your lips, a pleading look gleaming in your eyes.

Oh god, how is he supposed to reprimand you when you look so cute and adorable?

His voice is stuck in his throat- there's a flushed expression on his face and it only gets worse when Aizawa's voice booms.

''Iida, if you're done with your important chat with L/N, turn around and pay attention. You're class president, I expect better from you.''

Iida nearly squeaks as he turns around and nods, apologizing several times. Aizawa simply sighs tiredly and resumes the lesson.

After that time, Iida spots you doodling all the time in class. It makes him concerned- do you even pay attention in class? Are your grades failing?

Eventually, he confronts you about and explains his concerns. His face is beet red when he's done, but you simply brush him off with a smile.

Assuring him that your grades and knowledge are in perfect order, you simply doodle a lot in class. After that confrontation, Iida is much more relaxed about the situation, and every time he sees you doodle, there's a soft smile on his lips.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Midoriya is a very observant person. He has dozens of notebooks dedicated to quirks, Pro Heroes, and so on and while he doesn't write about his friends- he tends to notice several things.

For example, you. Since you began to attend U. A with Izuku, he's noticed that you spend most of your time sketching, doodling god knows what. You've never shown him your artwork.

Another thing he's realized is that when you start doodling- only Aizawa's loud voice or the school bell will snap you out of it. Izuku's tried everything- waving his hands in your face, throwing you paper balls- nothing. It's like you've been sucked out of reality..

Your manners leave him interested, curious to know more. He's sure you're not slacking off in class- he's been in several study sessions with Tsuyu, Iida, Ochaco, Todoroki, and you- you're always on track and usually have a good grasp of the subject.

You rarely share your notes- only with Tsuyu and Iida and occasionally Todoroki.

Midoriya doesn't mind, but it makes him burn with curiosity. So on the next studying session, he decides to come up with a plan.

''Y/N, what did you get on question 43?'' Ochaco asked. She leaned towards said girl and giggled.

Izuku frowned. What was so funny? The brunette's grin grew as she stared down at Y/N's notes, who was stammering and trying to hide their notes from the public view. 

When Ochaco and Y/N rose and said they needed to visit the restroom- Izuku struck. Tsuyu was chatting with Todoroki and Iida had his nose buried in his book- so they didn't notice when he grabbed your notebook.

He flicked through pages, greedily drinking in the sight of your doodles. They were all varied- some flowers, vines, others were small and cute animals- and others were more complex but in the end, doodles. Midoriya froze when he flipped through a page and saw a... peculiar sight. 

In the middle of the page, was a heart. You had doodled several headshots of Izuku, in which some of them he was saying corny or bad jokes, and in others, he was simply smiling. His cheeks burned when he saw the small hearts that you had doodled around him.

When he heard your voice and footsteps approaching the dorm- he quickly dropped your notebook in your spot and tried to act casual. Tsuyu raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing, while Todoroki asked him why his face was burning.

He had refused to answer and remained somewhat silent during the rest of the session, his cheeks red. His heart was soaring with happiness- those doodles only meant one thing- you had feelings for him.

Once the studying session was over, Izuku would pull you aside and confess his feelings. His veins were pumping with confidence- you liked him back!

BAKUGOU KATSUKI 

Ever since you befriended Katsuki, he's noticed that you're a very attentive friend.

That is when you're not in class. You submerge yourself into your notebook with a pencil and nothing else- and pour all your attention into it.

Bakugou thinks it's rather annoying, he's tried to get your attention several times, only to fail miserably.

Today is no exception. Bakugou's ready to pop- dunceface and shitty head have been bothering him all day, stupid Deku gave a speech that made him roll his eyes and he was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

Unfortunately, he found himself stuck in class, listening to Aizawa talk like a damn zombie- trying to grab your attention, but you were too immersed in your doodles.

Irritated, he pressed his sweat hand on your neck and ignited a small spark- not enough to hurt you, but enough to startle you. The effect was immediate. You yelped and snapped your neck upwards, clutching the back of your neck. Everyone stared at you, bewildered. Katsuki grinned, satisfied that he finally got your attention but when you realized it was him- you narrowed your eyes and scowled.

''Bakugou? L/N? What's going on?'' Aizawa asked sharply.

Your scowl deepened. ''Everything is okay, Aizawa-sensei. I apologize.'' Your eyes stayed on Bakugou as you spoke.

Aizawa hummed in response and continued with the lesson. Bakugou bit down on his lip, swallowing a snicker.

After class, you smacked Bakugou on the head, to which he responded with a growl and the two of you engaged in a match of playful fighting, and between snickers and lunges your notebook fell out of your open backpack, loose sheets slipping out. 

Immediately, you jumped back and began to gather them, but Bakugou kneeled down and helped you as well. He froze as he held a loose sheet- there were several sketches of him with different expressions- in some, he was smirking, frowning or screaming- but that wasn't what made him freeze. It was the several little hearts that you had doodled around him.

You nearly shrieked when you saw which paper he was holding and snatched it out of his hands. In a blink of an eye, you had picked everything up and ran away.

Katsuki was puzzled. He stood there for a minute or two, gears shifting in his brain as he processed the situation. Once it finally kicked in, he raced after you and found you sitting in a corner, head buried between your knees.

''Um,'' he cleared his throat awkwardly. ''Hey.'' his voice was gruff and tense.

You groaned and shook your head. ''Go away, Bakugou. I know you don't like me, so just spare me from the harsh rejection.''

''What?'' he furrowed his eyebrows and kneeled to your height. ''What the fuck are you talking about? That's not true.''

Slowly, you raised your head and peered at him, narrowing your eyes with suspicion. ''It's not?''

Bakugou scoffed. ''Of course not. I like you too, dumbass,'' he grumbled the last sentence, feeling his ears and cheeks warm up.

''Oh.'' was all you said. The blonde snickered and pulled you upwards onto your feet.

''C'mon dumbass, I'll walk you home. Gotta keep you safe.''

(bonus extra!)

TODOROKI SHOUTO 

Shoto is clever and can improvise quickly- but he can be quite dense or oblivious at times. He probably wouldn't notice your doodling habits and if he did, he would brush it off. You're just doodling in class, nothing too fancy.

He doesn't understand how far your doodling goes until he asks you to lend him your math notes after class, and you happily oblige.

Shoto spends the rest of the afternoon studying and writing down whatever he missed- all thanks to your notes that were thankfully complete.

Once he was sure he'd done enough studying, Todororki began to flip through your notes idly, appreciating your writing. The more he read, the more he realized that there were doodles...everywhere.

He thought it was quite impressive that you managed to doodle so much in class and your artistic skills were quite impressive. There was a variety of sketches- plants, animals, silly faces but the ones he saw the most, were the ones of him.

Shoto felt a strange flutter whenever he saw one of your doodles that were him. You captured him perfectly and he cracked a grin whenever he saw one in which he was saying a corny or silly joke. It was refreshing.

It made his heart warm, seeing that his crush seemed to be as fond of him as he was of them. I don’t think he’d truly understand why you would draw him several times and instead, would ask you for an explanation. 

The next day, he made sure to thank you for lending him your notes- and for making such beautiful and impressive doodles. 

#iida tenya x reader #tenya iida #iida tenya #bnha iida #iida tenya x y/n #iida headcanons #midoriya x y/n #mha midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo headcanons #bnha todoroki #todoroki shouto #todoroki headcanons #shoto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x reader #reader insert #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #type: headcannons #headcanon #mha headcanons #requests open #open for requests

[leatherbookmarking]

fuck that ! im gonna talk about them deadboyz!! shame is for the WEAK

overall:

belong to a much less known subsidiary company of jinhit no jgs isn’t worth the joke entertainment. if they were in any other company they would be super rookies but jgs is keeping them in the basement and it’s not even his own basement

initially i think there were some high stakes in it for jgy...? something like ‘you produce the songs and make their chores and if you flop you’ll never be on stage again’ but?? i don’t know now tbh

would have been really popular (they are Good) but less known company, etc, and also some rumors around the time of their debut made it so they’re only knows because ‘they’re kinda good at dancing aren’t they’

general concept is uh... cool dudes, kinda fucky but not too much...? gotta think about the baby (a-yu)

THE MEMBERS: meng yao (leader, main dancer, vocalist), wen chao (oldest, main rapper), su she (main vocal, dancer), xue yang (rapper, dancer, unofficially: moodmaker, if by ‘mood’ you understand ‘horror at whatever has just come out of his hellish mouth), wen ning (dancer, vocalist, sometimes rapper), mo xuanyu (vocalist, the Baby™)

MENG YAO:

leader, single-handedly responsible for making these rowdy boys (wc&xy) stop wanting to kill each other

has probably auditioned for every single company there is. was in the nie company for a bit, but it was still a mess freshly after the previous owner, nmj’s father, has died, nmj has struggled (being a producer, not a businessman) so when it turned out they’d have to let some trainees go, the other trainees made it so meng yao was the one to leave. then he temporarily was at wrh’s company where he got kind-of-semi-famous as one of wen qing’s main back dancers (the one she’s interacted with the most) during her last performance. then the company went kaputt and jgs has snatched him off for himself, and then... put him... in the basement.... for two years... after which he gave him a chance, and voila

insanely hard-working. an all-rounder. mainly he excels at dancing, but his vocal and rap skills also Fuck. persona? impeccable. he’s learning to write and compose his own songs and he’s doing well, but he can’t even upload his stuff on soundcloud, because... you know why. has doubled as a manager in their early days. also, dimples.

the fans had tried to make a dad/mom dynamic with him and uh... wen chao...? since they were the oldest and pretty much the opposites, but quickly gave up and he’s now simply known as yao-ge due to his stern but loving persona. (yao-jie, sometimes)

DOES do the split. it was his rookie trick for a year after they debuted, but he simply is just like that. one show host asked him “is there definite proof that you have bones?“ and meng yao only shrugged humbly

WEN CHAO

oldest, has been a trainee for the longest time, hasn’t debuted because... well... he wasn’t good... and that was because he’s felt too safe in his dad’s company. WELL ABOUT THAT,

his older brother wen xu has debuted Long before him, but after a few years his group disbanded, he moved on to modeling and then stopped after a couple of years, too. (he got married.)

you know how i said their image is ‘cool, a bit fucky’? well, he’s 40% of that fuckiness. he’s been told again and again that idols aren’t supposed to date/have dating experience, but he still can’t get the hang of it

yes, he and jiaojiao were an item back in the wen days. she’s a trainee at some other company now but they still hook up sometimes

initially was intent on maintaining a cool, calm and collected image... then he met xue yang and threw that idea outta the window. paradoxically, they’re interesting together, not only as rappers but also as... high-energy, chaotic energy makers of the group...

this is a happy au, so: initially he’s thought everything is bullshit, these talentless fucks are dumb and he should already be a top idol. by the time of their debut, he agrees that meng yao is one crafty motherfucker. a year after their debut, if anything happened to any of his boys, yes even xue yang, he would kill everyone in the room, etc, etc BUT YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW ABOUT THAT.

SU SHE

unfortunately, was added before their first comeback (second release) and therefore controversial. fortunately, his vocal completes the group’s image and musical flavour

was a trainee in yinshen ent where he really admired their top idol, lan wangji, until... he got to know him (?) when they were sent to compete in a survival show and decided lan wangji ain’t shit and is, in fact, a stuck-up self-centered bitch. the survival show crashed (unrelatedly), but still some serious words were exchanged. during Some Company Problems, quite a lot of trainees have left, but he was the one who left with a Bang.

joined that one subsidiary of jin ent because of meng yao, who, just like in canon, recognized him, said he loved him in (song he’s performed in the survival show) and with this he cemented his position as su she’s new Boy Who Makes Him Go !!!!.

slowly replaced meng yao as The Man Who Does This Face at the other lads’ rowdy behaviour.

fans remember he was :/ at lan wangji, so his persona wouldn’t work anyway, but he does make quite a convincing kind dude-next-door.

stubborn side of the fandom’s next candidate for the mom member, because... he’s ridiculously prepared and reliable. who carries hydrogen peroxide in their daily use backpack? this boy !

it used to be rubbing alcohol but i had too many reasons to apply it internally, he once says mournfully, and this is how xue yang discovers he has a sense of humor, sort of

unfortunately, has the juiciest ass in the group. unfortunately, because

XUE YANG

responsible for: being inappropriate. the other 60% of fuckiness, really enjoys getting into wen chao’s personal space (since wen chao is That straight dude) and just... doing whatever to make su she Scandalized.

but he’s so cute we’ll forgive him. at least until the next time he does a surprise butt grab

very agile! dance line along with meng yao and wen ning. apparently he was a stunt guy...? apparently the lived in the streets...? apparently he went to the same dance school as meng yao...? no one knows his past. no one has seen his kid photos. did he go by another name...? insert the what are birds gif but make it who is xue yang.

adds sound effects to real life. also in his raps, sometimes

started hugging and initiating physical contact with people to assert dominance to be annoying, but ended up actually liking it, even though the one he does it comfortably with is meng yao. just like... back hugs? resting his chin over a-yao’s shoulder? it’s neat. sometimes a-yao pats his hand or taps his nose absent-mindedly and it’s super neat. if he notices you noticing it, though, he will BITE

most popular member, but everyone likes him for different reasons and has a different uhhh headcanon about potentially dating him. bad boy xue yang/cute bratty didi xue yang/sweet boyfriend xue yang, etc, etc

no one knows how, but apparently he knows the iconic duo from a small company, xiao xingchen and song lan...? or rather, song lan pretends not to know or notice him, meanwhile xiao xingchen is very cute when they’re interacting, and basically it prompts a lot of dating rumors, especially since they’ve been spotted having hotpot.

WEN NING

su she was the one to join last, but actually it’s wen ning who’s the least popular member. i’m just so quiet that people don’t notice me, haha, he says while being 180cm tall and having killer charisma when he dances

seriously, what’s up with that? it’s almost like he’s a different person, a possessed one to add to that. huh!

in contrast, his voice is very gentle and even cute, and he often sings quietly to himself. sometimes to other members (there’s a video of him singing what seems to be a lullaby to mxy), sometimes to little animals (there’s a video of him singing to a tiny frog he’s found during a walk). gentle boyfriend wen ning but it’s CANON

in contrast to the contrast, he doesn’t rap often, but when he does, it’s like... who’s that?? another member??? dualism king

when wc/xy cause problems on purpose, he doesn’t react/allows them to tease him/slap his ass/bump into him when they’re fighting. he seems like a calm, gentle guy so when they’re in a variety show and it’s Time For A Punishment, of course he gets to decide/wield the squeaky hammer, WHEREUPON ‘yang-ge, three weeks ago you ate my yoghurt even though i specifically asked you not to, so...’ (whacks xy’s ass into next tuesday)

nice, sculpted shoulders make for very good pillows

MO XUANYU

a Baby, but watch out: a horny one. fully on board with xue yang’s Inappropriate Ideas Of Entertainment. there’s a video of them doing some Rather Dirty dance moves while meng yao and su she make pained faces in the bg

fashion king. make-up king. none of his selfies are bare-faced, he always has some red eye shadow/blue eyelashes/yellow blush/black lipstick going on. sometimes even at the same time. paints his nails and toenails as well. somehow yao-gege doing his make-up makes him fall asleep one minute in. (cute)

his sincere smile is a 100% foolproof way to just... melt everyone’s hearts. in wen ning’s case: with a smile as well. meng yao and su she: an eyeroll (fond). xue yang and wen chao: ‘oh, fuck you’. but it DOES

most of the time though when he does sajiao it’s totally weird. (on purpose, on purpose)

tiny boy. skinny boy. once he turned to the side and vanished. even though most of the time in videos the other members sooner or later end up giving him food! (at some point wen chao says ‘it’s so that you’d shut up’, causing a-yu to start talking animatedly, spitting crumbs into his tea. serves him right)

has a potential to end up as a vocal god. currently however his favourite method of doing things with his voice is SCREAM

famously examines what things are by putting them in his mouth/licking them. he is a little creacher. he cannot change this

bites

#shut up shrimp #ye..lls......... #some other time i'll have to write about what the other dudes are doing in this au #idol au

[eternalsehyoon]

Park Jinyoung - Beautiful stranger (part one)

Title: Beautiful Stranger

Pairing: Jinyoung x Reader

Words: 1.6k

Summary: You work in a café and meet a beautiful stranger. Being quite insecure when it comes to feelings, and completely naïve when it comes to guys flirting with you, you don’t really see how much this stranger is into you... until your much too involved best friend convinces you otherwise.

I was cleaning the tables in the tiny café I have been working to for the past three years and a half. As much as I told myself I despised it, it had become a part of my routine and I had built my circle of friends around it. The customers were all usual, except for the few occasional tourists. Which meant I could tell you the names of almost every client who walked in the café, and my coworkers were like my family. My goal was to be a best-selling author, but as you probably know, it's easier said than done. I had been working on my book since I got this crappy job, and even though the novel itself was complete, my perfectionist self couldn't dare to send it to a publishing company.

"Y/N!!" My colleague and, most importantly best friend Kim called. "I know how much you hate tying up your hair, but I swear to God Josie will kill you if she sees you serving food with your hair down." I simply sighed, rolling my eyes. I knew Kim was just checking out on me, but I couldn't help to be a tiny bit annoyed by her attitude. I lazily grabbed an elastic in the front pocket of my dark apron and rapidly tied my long brown hair in a messy bun. "See." I pointed to the top of my head. "Happy, now?"

"Very." She simply stated, with a wide smile plastered on her face. Her title had just bumped from simple waitress to assistant manager and she took her role way too seriously, if you ask me.

Kim made her way from behind the counter to literally five inches away from me in the span of a few seconds. My reflexes made me take a huge step back, but my friend quickly closed the space between us and approached her mouth to my left ear, only to whisper: "By the way, you know, just like that... You've been cleaning this same table for the last thirty minutes." I let out a slight chuckle, covering my mouth with my right hand. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Sure..." She rolled her eyes. "I'm certain it has nothing to do with the handsome young man sitting right there, a couple of tables away." She wasn't subtle at all, since she almost yelled out the last sentence. I looked over at the table in question, and thanked the Lord that the "young man" was wearing a large pair of headphones on his head.

I caught myself staring at him again, noticing every little detail. From the way he was holding his phone with one hand, to the way he was using the other to occasionally sip on his latte. I felt my heart skip a beat, what the hell was happening? His hands were veiny, and his fingers were slightly crooked but had a perfect length. His dark brown hair was falling on his forehead adorably, and I enjoyed the way he would grin every so often while looking down at his phone with a smile so genuine, he almost resembled a small child receiving his first toy.

It was the first time I had seen him, you know, he was far from our typical 60 year old customer. When he had entered the place, he shyly asked for a table for one and I escorted him to my favorite spot; a small round table accompanied by two leather-covered lazy boy type chairs, by the window. The bistro was practically empty, so he was the only customer I could take care of, if you didn't count the two elders who would occasionally ask me to refill their coffees. "M-my name is Y/N and I'll be your waitress today." I stuttered. I handed him our menu, and he simply nodded with a smirk appearing on his lips as a form of "thank you". "I'll be back in a couple of minutes to see if you've made your choice." He looked up at me and that's when I realized he had the most gorgeous dark brown eyes. "Earth to Y/N!!!!" Kim exclaimed, bringing me back to my senses. "Go ask him for his number, for God's sake, or I'll do it for you." She ordered, half-serious. I bursted out laughing. "If you think one second that I've got the guts to even do that, you don't fucking know me, Kim!" She cackled. "Don't make me do it, Y/N." She threatened me jokingly, while making her way to the counter to start a new batch of coffee.

Kim had been working here for the past five years; she could pour a cup of coffee, answer the phone and print receipts all at the same time. It impressed me how determined she was, since she was still a student and didn't plan on working here forever.  I followed her steps, only to print the stranger's receipt, since he had been in here for the past hour and a half. I awkwardly strutted towards the customer, "Here's your receipt, don't hesitate to tell me if you need any-anything else." I placed the piece of paper on the table gently, and as he took it, his hand brushed the top of mine, so I removed it swiftly. My cheeks were burning and I could see that his were turning bright red. It was like we were having a staring contest, and I swore I could get lost in his eyes for hours without even realizing it. His gaze shifted from my eyes, down to my nose and lips and then to the receipt he was holding. "My name is Park Jinyoung, by the way..." He muttered. "Uhm... I don't know why I said that but, yeah..." He took his face between his hands, his elbows leaning on the small round table and looked down. I let out a small giggle, I was sort of relieved that he was nervous also, I mean, that was a good sign, right?

Even when he was completely mortified, Jinyoung was still the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on.  "You can go to the register when you are ready to pay." I mumbled and left.

An excited Kim was waiting for me in the kitchen. She had witnessed this whole scene and was jumping around everywhere, I swore she was going to break something. She took my two hands in hers while she began dancing; I was just standing still, wondering what the hell was going on with this woman.

"He's soooooo into you!" She spoke melodically, almost like she was singing along to her favorite song. I sighed.

"Come on! You have to ask him on a date!" She was enjoying this too much, but that's what best friends are for, I guess. "Oh and I could tag along with Mark! It could be a double date!" She clapped her hands. Kim and Mark were the cutest couple I knew. They had just gotten engaged a few months ago and I always looked up to them as a model for what I want my future relationship to be like. I swore to myself that I would never waste my time with a guy if my eyes didn't sparkle like Kim and Mark's eyes do when they are around each other. That's what true love is, folks.

"Woah there!" I placed my hands on both her cheeks and gently pressed. "You need to calm down, he just told me his name. It's no big deal!"

"Whatever." Kim gave up and rolled her eyes, her sudden change of attitude caught me off-guard. "Just know you're your own cock-blocker." She pointed her index towards me and shrugged.

I was never the one to make the first move with guys. Even though I'm pretty confident most of the time, I always tend to chicken-out when feelings are involved. You could say self-sabotaging was my speciality.

I greeted new clients, placing them strategically all over the dining room. I was taking the order of a young couple while I noticed Jinyoung waiting at the register. My gaze scanned the place all over, Kim seemed nowhere to be seen so I tried my best to serve the couple as fast as I could in order to attempt to speak to Jinyoung for one last time.

Of course, the universe was totally against this plan. The guy, who was the male version of a Karen, wouldn't stop asking questions, and while I knew it was part of my job to answer him, I was completely annoyed. He kept on asking if the menu was vegan, and even though I told him it was not completely, but that we did in fact have some vegan options, he didn't want to cooperate at all. He only kept on yelling that we were all animal killers and left the restaurant, after insulting me.

I murmured a silent "go fuck yourself" to myself, before making my way to the register, noticing that Jinyoung had left the café already.

Just my fricken’ luck.

It was now the end of my shift, so I punched myself out and threw myself, completely exhausted, on one of the colorful bean bags in the break room. I had to wait for Kim, since she was my ride home. I scrolled on instagram for a couple of minutes when suddenly, a wild Kim appeared in the door frame, with the biggest grin on her face. I struggled to get up and out of the bean bag, my best friend laughing out loud at the view.

"I thought you'd want to have this." She handled me what I thought was a piece of paper.

I unfolded the wrinkly paper, soon realizing it was a receipt. Why exactly was she giving this to me?

"Flip it over and read." She ordered in a joyful manner.

It read:

To Y/N, Here's my number: 82-******* Please text me? I mean you don't have to... But I'd really like if you did? Jinyoung

My eyes grew three times their original size and I felt heat rise up my cheeks. So he was actually flirting with me?

******

Tell me if you guys are interested for part 2 and I will post it maybe in later this week!!! Thank you for reading :)

#park jinyoung #mark tuan #got7 #got7 imagines #got7 oneshot #kpop imagines #kim yugyeom #jackson wang #jaebeom #bambam #youngjae

[tibbinswrites]

Suptober Day 7 - Battered and Bound

Dean awoke with a splitting headache and forced himself to not move while he took stock of the situation, eyes closed. He was sitting up, head handing, adding a wicked crick in his neck that would take days to fully go away. The chair he was in was metal, heavy-duty, possibly bolted down. His hands had been forced through the slats of the back so they could be bound tightly. The rope was good quality, quite thin but strong, with enough give to prevent it from easily snapping. And it didn’t feel like the switch-blade was in his sleeve any more. Unfortunate. This wasn’t going to be easy.

He kept his head hanging, kept his breathing deep and even, listening for any hint of whatever thing had trussed him up like a damn chicken. It was frankly embarrassing the amount of times he’d woken up like this. For one of the most feared hunters in the country, it apparently sure was easy to sneak up on him and bash him over the head with something. Sam was no better, that boy would probably have some kind of brain damage by now if Cas didn’t periodically heal them.

“You can quit the act,” a female voice said. “I know you’re awake.”

Damn. So not an amateur then. That was about all he could narrow it down to really; vamps could hear the change in your heartbeat, djinn could sense when you were no longer under their thrall, werewolves could smell the chemicals that flooded a waking person’s system, angels and demons and gods… they almost always knew too. In fact, nine times out of ten the pretending-to-be-asleep shtick didn’t work. He only kept doing it because when it did, it was really fun.

Dean blinked and lifted his head, abandoning pretence immediately. He looked around first, taking in the stone room, the thick air of underground, hanging from the walls were chains with flakes of red on them, rust or blood he couldn’t tell from here. There was also a dirty looking cot against far wall. His chair seemed to be in the centre of the room.

Dean yawned and looked up at the woman with a smirk, “Congrats, you’ve got the torture dungeon model 38.4. Pretty standard really. Sweetheart, if you’re trying to scare me, this ain’t gonna do it.”

“It’s not your fear that I care about, Dean Winchester. Only your pain.”

At this point, Dean had given up on asking how the monsters they hunted knew his name. He was practically a celebrity. It was weirder when they didn’t know to be afraid.

This woman didn’t look afraid though. She didn’t have the smarmy confidence of a demon either, or the stick-up-the-ass look of an angel.

“What are you?”

“Apathetic.”

Dean frowned. The woman looked down at him passively. “My species doesn’t have a name, if indeed, there are more than me. I assume there are.”

“You don’t know?”

“It makes no difference either way.” Her voice was hollow, devoid of all feeling, but with a lilting accent he couldn’t place. She really didn’t care that she might be the only one of her kind. What the hell even was her kind? How could he pray to Cas to start researching how to kill a creature with no name?

He tried nonetheless. Praying mental snapshots of his situation and the woman in front of him, hopefully it would be enough if he couldn’t make it out himself.

“I’m going to feed now.” She said, stepping around the chair to avoid the reach of his legs – smart – and resting a palm around the back of his neck.

White-hot agony speared though him at her touch, shooting up into his brain, blotting out the until-that-moment-noticeable pain of his headache with something a thousand times worse. He thought he screamed, he must have tried to jerk away from her hand. The metallic tang of blood rushed into his mouth where his teeth must have ripped at the skin of his lip. He thought perhaps his nose was bleeding too, his eyes, his ears, his very pores oozing red fluid as it too tried to escape the all-encompassing torment.

And then it was over and a string of blood hung from his mouth, trembling with each one of his shuddering breaths.

“That all you got, bitch?” Dean spat, because he had to, because to admit that he would rather she run him through with a sword than touch go through that again would be admitting a weakness he couldn’t have, not in front of the monsters.

“I will not be hungry again for another few hours,” the thing said, clearly done with any kind of small-talk. She walked out of sight and Dean heard the sounds of a door opening and closing and locking, and then footsteps fading away.

As soon as he deemed himself in the clear he searched every inch of the room from his chair, he strained his neck around in all directions, trying to see something of use, anything. The last thing he remembered before waking up here was throwing down a few dollar bills onto a sticky bar top and standing to leave. He suppose this thing must have caught him on the way out. He didn’t remember seeing her in the bar.

They were investigating a murder, the murder of a guy who’d been missing for thirty-six years. He’d almost not been found at all, having been buried deep in protected woodland, but a ranger had noticed all the animals avoiding a particular spot and had gone to investigate.

The body can’t have been there more than a week but the skin was paler than it should have been by far. It was also stained with dry blood though there hadn’t been any visible wounds there had been considerable damage to the brain, and a handprint on the back of the neck.

It was just their kind of weird, so they’d packed up and shipped out and Dean had been asking around for anyone who remembered the guy vanishing nearly forty years ago. He hadn’t gotten anywhere.

Dean shuddered, knowing now what that poor guy had been going through for the past three and a half decades. He couldn’t go through that again, he wouldn’t last thirty years, his brain would explode way before then.

Weak, his mind hissed at him you were on Alastair’s rack for as long. You will suffer this as long as you need to.

Just long enough for Sam and Cas to find him.

Xxx

Four feedings later and Dean openly sobbed whenever the creature entered the room. Not that it mattered, she was as impervious to begging as she was to threats, unmoved by bargains, by bravado, by screams. She didn’t care that he told her this was nothing compared to Hell, she didn’t care that he was lying. She didn’t try to gag him or muffle his screams so either she had good soundproofing or she lived way out in the middle of freaking nowhere.

He measured time by feedings now, by the fear that ebbed and flowed with her presence. He still wasn’t sure what she was feeding on, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. She didn’t offer the information and he didn’t ask.

This was worse than any other time he’d been held captive. There were no taunts to bite back at, no cracks in her veneer to exploit. He was just here for when she was hungry and ignored otherwise.

She doused him with water once, immediately after feeding and he spluttered for breath, disoriented and confused. She also fed him, by hand, using a glove, and as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t reject the food or bite at her if he wanted to keep any strength at all. She gave him water after each feeding, tipping the neck of a plastic bottle over his mouth. It was up to him whether to drink or not. He’d refused at first, keeping his lips tightly pressed together, but she didn’t seem to care about that either.

Apathetic was probably the most accurate way to describe her.

Each feeding was worse than the last. The lack of natural light, of any kind of social contact, of enough sustenance to do anything more than just keep breathing was taking a gruelling toll. She didn’t talk to him much. She would respond to his words most times, but everything she had to say was just so empty that there was no satisfaction in trying to goad or insult her. His sight had started to go fuzzy, something had fried back there during the last feeding and everything was just slightly blurry now and it strained him to focus. Not that there was anything to see. He’d looked for any kind of escape route, a weapon, he’d even tried to break the chair, slamming one of the legs with his bare foot again and again but tied up as he was, his strength draining by the second, it was looking pretty bad.

Xxx

It was coming up to feeding ten now. It must have been at least a week since his capture. His fingers had been numb for two feedings and he’d all but given up. How the other guy had lasted so long he didn’t know; perhaps that brain damage had kicked in around now because Dean could use some. He was done. His eyes hurt to open, everything was covered in a red film, so he mostly left them closed. His ears whined even when there was nothing to hear. Any words he tried to say came out slanted and thick his hands barely moved. He was a fucking useless hunter.

There was a muffled scuffling sound and Dean shook his head, trying to clear his ears. He was pretty sure they were blocked with blood. Everything tasted and smelled like blood here, and he didn’t even have a deal to take.

The scuffling continued for a while and then stopped, and then there were footsteps, regular, heavy, and it must be feeding time because Dean’s body was already straining in his bindings, trying to get as far away from the door as possible.

The footsteps stopped and then there was a loud BANG. The door flung open and two blurry shapes rushed in.

“Dean!” One of them yelled, and warmth filled him at the sound, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

“Suhme,” was the sound that left his mouth.

“Crap. Dean, how bad is it?”

Fingers reached for him then and he screamed and yelled, trying to shove his weight to one side, away from the touch. He heard something pop in his shoulder before he felt it, but that was fine, that was like a headache, it wasn’t a touch.

Incredibly, the fingers stopped advancing.

“Dean?” The voice was very small now and Dean wanted to cry, probably was crying, his face didn’t feel much any more.

“Let me see,” came another voice, deeper, more warmth, but different, something more painful, but not bad.

“Cuh,” his mouth said.

“Yes, Dean. It’s me, it’s Cas. We’ve come to take you home.”

“Hum,”

“That’s right.” The voice sounded strained. “I’m going to heal you now, as much as I can.”

“Nuh!” Dean yelled. He knew what that meant. It meant a hand on his neck, it meant more agony, it meant-

The fingers landed lightly on his cheek and his eyes blinked and sharpened. A mop of dark hair and huge, worried blue eyes gazed at him.

“Cuh?”

Cas nodded and forced a smile. “Sam, cut his hands free, I can’t heal much in here, the warding is strong.”

Sam, shaggy-haired and gaunt-faced gave a grim nod. Dean kept his eyes on Cas and Cas looked back steadily.

“We’re not going to hurt you, Dean. No more pain.”

“Nuh muh?” It was hard to believe, he barely remembered a time before the pain.

Cas’s eyes were bright and wet in the dim room and he shook his head. “I promise.”

“I pred.”

Cas’ expression softened even further and his fingers trembled against Dean’s cheek.

“I know, my love. I heard you.”

@winchester-reload

If you liked this, please consider buying me a coffee.

#suptoberart2019 #suptober #spn fanfic #prompt #day 7 #battered and bound #angst #monster #pain #torture #blood

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #167

Hey, I’m not dead!

Yeah, sorry that took a while. Had a lot of real-life shit to work through, honestly. In any case, I finally sat my butt down to really crack down on yet another fun-tastical chapter. Tomoko’s actually doing what a lot of quasi-incel degenerates are afraid to do in high school and is taking an actual stab at self-improvement. Will karma rear its ugly head, or is the series now beyond that point?

Chapter 167: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Spend My Time Wisely unlike me

This is a really pretty shot and...that’s about it. Real pretty. 

Oh dear! The friendship disease has disrupted Tomoko’s gremlin-like body clock and has her waking up early like a healthy human being!

Reminds of that one Gintama episode. You know, that one with Kagura and the sick kid and you don’t care, do you?

I know Japan prides itself on its cheap, quality goods, but Tomoko is a real penny-pincher, eh? Well, she’s a Gen Zer, so I can’t complain.

Not sure if this makes me sound like a perv or whatever, but hot damn, the detail on this model is stupidly good. I mean, just look at the patterning on that bra. You can really tell when Ikko’s really getting into the art.

They’re really milking the armpit fetish, aren’t they?

Tomoko...sweetie...my girl...

You don’t even have a dick. I mean, sure, you could find it fascinating from a purely educational, not-applicable-to-you perspective. And yeah, I suppose it could be useful if you were to start a sexual relationship with a noncanonical male. But to be honest, I can’t help but take it as more signs of your gender dysphoria here. 

I mean, hey, whatever floats your boat.  

Well, they say kids learn more about practical knowledge out in the real world than in school, don’t they? 

Then again, coughgoogleitcough.

I always thought Tomoko was just having some kind of psychosomatic experience when she talks about being de-energized from a lack of sexual stimulation. 

Now I’m inches from calling that shit an actual, physiological withdrawal.

Ah, the good ol’ days. Back when future prospects felt like a lifetime away and you could spend days on end dicking around, lamenting the need to get serious, and disregarding your resolve right after because you secretly didn’t really care.

...I gotta stop projecting.

Despite Tomoko proving time and again that she can be a crass-hole with a negative outlook on life, it’s when she does childish things like laying your head on your arm when studying and cuddling her plushies that her innocent side pops up and you realize that Tomoko’s a legitimate cutie. 

Fake-smoking? Tomoko, stop! If you keep this up, you’ll turn from a deconstruction of a cute, moe girl to becoming an actual cute, moe girl.

I only just noticed that Tomoko’s wearing a “happy” shirt. Remember when she was sporting the “alone” shirt back in year one? Even her clothes get character development.

Oh, shit. Your girl Yuu-chan talking this whole cram school thing seriously even though she’s at a disadvantage. You see, this is why Yuu is literally the best. Despite being at the “top” of the school clique food chain, she has not once ever felt like “bottomfeeders” like Tomoko and Komi were below her in any way. Sure, she knows they’re weirdos, but she makes those acknowledgments without judgement, and all while putting herself on the same leveling field. She doesn’t love them ironically–she loves them sincerely, and that’s why Yuu is awesome. 

Sorry if this turned into a ramble, but Yuu only gets like, one panel of dialogue nowadays and I wanted to make the most of it. 

Tomoko be raising that “phone-call” flag like a motherfucking chad. 

...

...

...

Oh, sorry. I saw Yuri with her hair down and lost track of time.

...

...

...

Damn, Yuri’s pretty.

Black leggings at home? That’s exactly the kind of conservative attire Yuri would wear and only Yuri could look amazing in. Seriously, If Ikko hadn’t become a manga artist, she would have made a damn fine fashion designer.

And Tomoko be crushing that “home-visit” flag like a motherfucking chode.

I could make a pretty tasteless joke about how “haha, Yuri will never look at you like you’re trash like she does at Tomoko,” but, 

a. it’s just the angle of the smartphone like Yuri said, and

b. you’d probably prefer to get denied like that, wouldn’t you?

I can’t help but wonder if Tomoko realizes just how homoerotic she sounds. Like, does she have any inclination that her borderline-sexual harassment jokes could easily be misconstrued as flirting? Sure, she might be using the old excuse that “we’re both girls, so it’s fine right?”, but given that Tomoko at least knows about LGBTQ+, you’d think it would have at least crossed her mind.

Or maybe, on a sadder note, Tomoko doesn’t see it as flirting because she really does have zero faith in her own attractiveness...  

There is no heterosexual reason for this exchange whatsoever.

Alright, so I’m a dude, so...hell do I know. But do girls typically not wear bras when just lounging around the house? I know Tomoko is the kind to just wear tank tops if she can help it, but I always thought that was a characterization unique to her, and that other girls wear bras for the comfort and support like any other undergarment. I mean, sure, Yuri’s kind of reserved, but I wouldn’t think wearing a bra at home would be considered an oddity, yeah? I ask this out of genuine curiosity, but I’ll stop before it gets too creepy.

Side note, you can officially tell when Yuri gets pissed by her nose crinkles.

I could give a long, analytical spiel about why Yuri didn’t give Tomoko a straight answer and speculate on what she was doing, but I eventually realized the answer was actually really simple:

It didn’t fucking matter to the story.

The last time Tomoko had one of these “I know!” moments, she ended up trimming her pubes on a class trip. But surely Tomoko’s character growth wouldn’t allow something like that to happen again, would it not?  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Adorbs.

Can’t fight awkward with awkward, can you?

Tomoko, what are you playing at? You just said that video chatting was erotic and tried to get Yuri to lewd herself for you. And now you were planning to appear on-screen totally naked and you somehow don’t see any sexual implications for this at all? Finding it funny would be an elementary schooler’s mentality. If you seriously have no confidence in your sexuality, then sweetheart, you need some help. 

You ever notice that Tomoko can lie through her teeth when trying to screw with people, but when lying to be nice, it sounds so phony? I think that says a lot about the kind of person she is.

Ya’ll knew I was gonna add this panel, didn’t you?

I was never one to go crazy about blushing anime girls ‘cause to me, it always felt like it stemmed from some sadistic desire to see girls look uncomfortable. So while I can’t get behind it for reasons like that, I can admit that Yuri’s blush is fucking precious and I think that’s because I love seeing her so emotionally transparent for once. It feels rare, raw and well-earned after all this time, so yeah. A++ 

Oh, Tomoko, if only you knew that skill often has nothing to do with it. Yuri’s not embarrassed because she sucks at humming, but because you saw a side of her that she only lets out in private. Trying to reassure her is a good move, but putting the girl on blast like that is not going to end well.  

I felt like the vibration alone would’ve left a huge-ass crack on Yuri’s phone screen. This whole moment is like eleven tiers of funny because even though Tomoko is probably miles away, the impact of Yuri’s punch still jostles her. It also helps that we can visibly see Yuri’s fist come down mere millimeters from Tomoko’s mug. 

There is no escaping her wrath, Tomoko.

I feel you, girl. For me, nothing beats a good ol’ burger and fries after a hard day of studying.

Careful there, Tomoko. If there’s one thing that studying has taught me (other than I hate it), it’s that you could get serious burn out if you go all-out on the first day, especially if you’re typically not a regular studier. Always make sure to get dem breaks in. 

That sounds like the kind of line you’d see in a mainstream shounen action manga like [ ]. I don’t even have a direct reference here, so feel free to fill in the blank.

Hey, with Tomoko’s luck, I was expecting karma to hit her harder than Truck-kun in an isekai anime, so I consider this a small loss. 

Man, remember when we were young and had ambitions as high as the sky, and we all wanted to change the world by being firefighters, astronauts, idols, and presidents?

Kind of sucks that “financial stability” has become our goal in life as we enter adulthood. Perhaps that’s just the mindset creative-types like Tomoko have towards the STEM industry when it’s hard to see what makes that world so personally fulfilling. 

Oops, my opinions are starting to seep in, so let's move on.

Nooo, don’t do it, Nico Tanigawa Tomoko! Don’t sell out your passions for financial security even though it’s a totally viable career decision! How else are we going to validate the pursuit of our artistic dreams?  

How in the hell is Tomoko balancing that drink? I’m willing to let it pass for rule of cute, but I don’t care how secure that cup is. One wrong move and those practice sheets are done for. 

Jesus Christ, Nemo is on some otherworldly dimension of cute right here.

I don’t even think Tomoko is trying to one-up her or anything. This is already the most effort she’s given to study in a single instance, so I think she genuinely just wants to share this personal accomplishment.

You know, while it’s already been established that Tomoko and Nemo have different tastes in anime, that doesn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t watch the same show, right? Just for different reasons. While Nemo would watch her cute slice-of-life series earnestly, Tomoko would probably watch them ironically MST3K-style. In any case, it’s a good way for them to find some common ground.

Bruh, Nemo must be over the fucking moon for this opportunity. Think about it: when was the last time she’s had someone to watch anime with her? After concealing her power level for so long, this could be the first time Nemo has had a fellow anime fan to geek out over a series with. And not just discussing it afterward, but actually reacting to a live episode together.  

Nemo may give Tomoko all kinds of shit, but this is actually what she wanted all along, wasn’t it?

Boy, Tomoko sure gets pretty demanding when she’s sleep-deprived, huh? I’d hate to see how loose her inhibitions get when she’s stark-raving drunk.  

Is this referencing the Quintessential Quintuplets anime? I don’t know anything about it other than that’s a kickass title.

Hey now, Tomoko, beggars can’t be choosers. Let Nemo give you the play-by-play at her own pace. She’s even acknowledging that you hate the source magazine without a hint of judgment. She’s gonna go places.

At first, I thought all this recent armpit content was just an incidental joke. Then I thought it was the mangaka slyly inserting their fetish into the series. Then I realized the series turned the joke on its head and made it a meta-reference about their very thing their readers were accusing them of. 

Well played.  

You ain’t slick with that leg service, Nino Tanigawa. Just sayin’.

Seriously though, I love the dynamic going on in this conversation. Tomoko and Nemo are approaching the discussion from different outlooks, the former looking at it from a degenerate’s perspective and the latter looking at it more optimistically. But even so, they’re not trying to “get the upper hand” like they might've done before. They’re simply having a totally organic talk about what they do and don’t like about the series, while still recognizing each other’s personal preferences. For once, it’s completely devoid of passive aggressiveness and it really shows how earnest their friendship has become.

At some point, I think Tomoko’s consumed so much near-pornographic content that pretty much all anime, manga, VNs, etc. looks like the same hentai to her.  

Every fiber of my being says that this is a reference to Komi-san Can’t Communicate, but it could just as well be the mangaka shooting themselves in the foot for a good joke. In any case, I do like how they point out shy, socially awkward girls is a rising trend that borders on romanticizing communication problems. 

Does that make Watamote a hipster manga since it did the whole “social anxiety girl” shtick before it was cool? 

I wanted to make a pretentious joke about how basic that anime sounds and how I’m so above a show that panders to the masses, but even I like junk food, so I’ll spare you the hypocritical humor.

If Ucchi caught a glimpse of this, she’d probably explode right on the spot.

I spent a good five minutes trying to decipher how Tomoko’s sleeping expression could be seen as “happy”, and I realized that it’s not that she looks happy. It’s that she doesn’t look unhappy. I’d imagine that those plagued by anxiety and stress have it evident on their face when they sleep, so the fact that Tomoko fell asleep in relative bliss must mean she’s had a pretty satisfying day. To top it all off, this is one of the few times someone–and Nemo of all people–has seen Tomoko in all her vulnerability. 

And you know what? Nothing bad happened. No punchline undermining the moment, no sarcastic quip, no embarrassment. Just genuine sweetness and it really speaks to the series’ faith in its heartwarming moments.

As a final note, I just wanted to thank everyone again for their patience. I’ve been trying to put a fresh spin on this, making it a little more comedic since its honestly getting harder to “analyze” without constantly repeating myself. It’s a lot of fun, and I hope you guys enjoy it for what it is.

#watamote #watamote review #chapter 167 #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular! #tomoko kuroki #yuu naruse #yuri tamura #hina nemoto #review

[shipping-receiving]

Fictober 2019 Day 22: “We could have a chance.”

Rating: T | Word Count: 3069 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones Relationship: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth Tags: Alternate Universe – Office Notes: In this bit, I swap POVs pretty regularly. Triangle ▼ indicates Jaime's POV, circle ◯ indicates Brienne's. 

Office AU Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

(read on AO3)

//////

▼

Alright, Jaime, play it cool, Jaime tells himself. He folds his arms and leans back against his car in what he hopes is a natural pose. You have a plan. After dinner, when you’re both alone, ask if this is a date, tuck hair behind ear, let finger linger on cheek, etc. He looks down at himself. Is this pose terrible? It’s terrible. Maybe I shouldn’t fold my arms? He shifts and rests one hand against the side mirror instead. What do I do with the other hand now? He places it on his hip. This is stupid. Oh fuck, I see her.

◯

Stay calm, Brienne, Brienne tells herself as she pauses just inside the main entrance of her apartment building. It’s just dinner. You never said ‘date’, did you? You can still pretend it’s just dinner. She can see Jaime through the glass, standing at his car in what looks like a very uncomfortable position. He needs to stop rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Wait, no, he should never stop doing that. By the time she steps out of the building, the heat of her blush has already spread throughout her entire body.

▼

She’s here, she’s here. The words are an alarm in Jaime’s head as Brienne walks towards him, and he pulls his hand back from the side mirror with a jerk. She’s wearing the blue blouse he likes, the one she was wearing at the office when he first noticed her eyes, but this evening she’s worn it loose and paired with dark jeans. She’s blushing already; that’s a good sign, right? Okay, Jaime, be smooth.

“Hey,” Jaime says in greeting. Fuck, that wasn’t smooth, that must have been two octaves lower than my regular voice. He clears his throat. “Hey, Brienne.”

◯ 

“Hey,” Brienne replies, trying to get a hold on the tremor in her voice. She absently smooths down her blouse, the one she knows he likes because it brings out her eyes. “Sorry for the late notice.” Why the hells am I speaking like I’m writing an email?

“No—” Jaime scrambles, “Don’t apologise for—I’m happy to—I would have—” and then he just exhales without finishing any one of those sentences.

“Well,” Brienne says, softly and courageously, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too,” Jaime smiles.  

▼

Don’t apologise for asking, was what he meant to say. I’m happy to have dinner with you anytime. I would have dropped everything even if you had given me five minutes notice. Okay, maybe not that last one, that’s probably too much.

He opens the car door on the passenger side and gestures to the seat. “Shall we?”

“Oh! Um, I was thinking we could walk.” Brienne rocks slightly on the balls of her feet. “I know a place about ten minutes from here. Maybe not as fancy as you’re used to—” Oh fuck, does she think I’m too fancy? “I mean, it’s nothing fancy, but it’s good. It’s seafood, if that’s alright with you? I called ahead and booked a table, but we can always cancel it.”

◯ 

Oh fuck, now he thinks I think he’s too fancy. Brienne just wanted to pick somewhere familiar, and safe, and reliable. The food is delicious enough that he’ll remember the experience, but the ambience is also casual enough that it could just be a meal between friends, if that’s where this ends up going.

“Sure. Seafood sounds great.” He closes the door and locks the car. “We can walk. Is it okay if I park here?”

“It should be fine, I think.” Brienne points uselessly in the direction in which she’s already started walking. “It’s this way.”

“Seems like a nice neighbourhood,” Jaime comments, as he catches up.

“Oh, it’s decent. Quiet. A bit of a distance from the office, but the rent is reasonable enough that I can still get a small apartment to myself.”

“That’s nice,” he nods. “Having your own space.”

▼

I hate small talk. I am above small talk.

“How was your day with Margaery?” Jaime asks.

Is this small talk? I’m showing interest in her life; that’s good, right?

“It was good. She’s…” Brienne bites her lip. “We had a good talk.”

Do I want to know what they talked about? Did they talk about me? Is that why she texted me? Jaime opens his mouth and almost asks a question to that effect, but decides against it. I don’t want to know, anyway. Do I?

He opens his mouth again as they stop to wait at a crossing, but before he can think of the right phrasing, Brienne turns to him. “How was your meeting with the client yesterday?”

“What meet—Oh! Um. It was good too. Illuminating.” Gods, has a meeting with a client ever been ‘illuminating’? She’s going to see right through this.

But Brienne simply says, “That’s good.”

Jaime tries his best not to think about elopements. Damn it, Tyrion.  

◯

They cross the road and walk for the next block or so in an uncomfortable silence. Brienne doesn’t know why Jaime is being so quiet. He’s usually the one to get their conversations going. I should have just let him drive, she thinks, though the restaurant is barely two minutes by car from her apartment building.

▼

I’m being too quiet. I’ve clean forgotten how to make conversation. Quick, Jaime, think of something to say.

And so Jaime blurts out the only thing that’s on his mind right now.

“Is this a date?”

▼◯ 

Oh fuck.

◯ 

Brienne stops in the middle of the pavement. If she could have done so by screeching to a halt, she would have. “Oh! Oh gods—”

“I’m so sorry.” Jaime wipes his hand down his face. “I didn’t mean for it to come out quite so… bluntly.”

“No—um—it’s fine. It, it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be.” No, Brienne, that suggests you already think it’s a date. “Uh, I mean, do you want it to be a—”

“Yes!” Jaime exclaims before she can complete her question. “… Do you?”

“… Yes. I think I do.” She should probably be making eye contact while saying this, but Brienne is finding the cracks in the concrete beneath her feet particularly fascinating right now.

“Okay,” Jaime responds, and he seems on the verge of laughing with relief. At least, that’s what she can tell while still staring at the pavement. “Good. Great.”

▼

They turn and walk a few more steps, as if everything hadn’t just changed between them. Jaime didn’t tuck her hair behind her ear, or let his finger linger on her cheek while she blushed. But he got an answer, and it was the answer he wanted.

He can’t seem to stop grinning.

Then, he feels a tickle on the edge of his palm. He looks down just in time to see Brienne retract her hand back to her thigh.

“Shut up,” she mumbles.

“I didn’t say a word!” Jaime protests, bringing his eyes up to her face. She’s still refusing to make eye contact. He didn’t think he could grin even wider.

“You were going to.”

“If I was going to, I would have said, ‘Go ahead. I want you to.’”

He can see her shift her gaze from her own feet to his hand again. She grabs it, not gently, but urgently, as if she would have lost all her bravery if she had waited a second longer.

“Shut up,” Brienne mumbles again.

Jaime obeys. He intertwines his fingers with hers.

◯ 

Jaime’s hand is warm. Brienne knows it is warm because it is connected to her own hand. She curls her fingers upwards, matches her fingertips to each of his knuckles. Her thumb strokes the flesh in the curve between his thumb and index finger. His hand feels muscular, how could a hand feel muscular? But of course a hand that is linked to Jaime’s forearm must be—

And then she realises they’ve missed a turn entirely.

“Sorry, we’ll have to turn back. I forgot to take a right back there.” She leads him back in the direction they came from. Because she can do that now. Because she is holding his hand.

“Good,” Jaime replies.

“Good?” Why would that be good?

He lifts their hands slightly. “More time for this.”

Oh.  

▼

The restaurant is small, but cosy. An eclectic assortment of historical illustrations of the Stormlands hang on its walls, alongside other decorative items featuring various marine animals. There’s a remarkably big model of a crab hanging over an empty table in the corner, and Jaime isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when they’re directed to a different table.

He trusts Brienne to order her usual—she seems to be pretty friendly with the owners, who look at him approvingly. He finds this to be quite the confidence booster, and sits up a bit straighter in his chair. He can feel his knee touching hers under the table.

“Hey,” Brienne says, after she’s ordered. “How are you with spicy food?”

I’m pathetic. “I can manage.” I’m an idiot.

“They have this amazing homemade hot sauce here. It’s not on the menu, but I always ask for it to go with my shrimp. We can get it on the side as a dip.”

“I’m game.” I’m also an idiot, but I already knew that part.

Three shrimps-dipped-in-hot-sauce in, Jaime is already sweating.

“I thought you said you could manage!” Brienne laughs, as she hands him a paper napkin.

“I lied,” he confesses, dabbing at his nose.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” Fuck this hot sauce to all seven hells and back. “To impress you, I guess.”

Brienne blushes as she moves the bowl of sauce towards her side of the table. “You don’t need to do that, Jaime.”

“Isn’t that what people do on first dates?” he says, from behind the napkin.

“I guess so.” Brienne gives him a rare smirk as she dips her entire shrimp into the sauce and pops it in her mouth. She’s superhuman. But I think I already knew that part, too.

“My plan backfired, anyway.” Not that it was an actual plan as opposed to a stumble headfirst into hubris. Or rather, stupidity.

“I don’t know,” Brienne says, in the direction of the hot sauce. “You made an effort. It’s endearing in its own way.”

Jaime would be pleased by that if he wasn’t otherwise occupied with chugging his glass of iced water, and motioning to the server for a refill.

◯ 

The owner of the restaurant offers a sort of conspiratorial smile to Brienne while Jaime takes his credit card out to pay for the meal. She’d be more comfortable going dutch, to be frank, except they’d had enough arguments over the past four weekends about who would pay for entrance fees and sandwiches and ferry tickets and so forth. Jaime almost always won, on the basis that she was doing him a favour in the first place by showing him around.

As the little machine spits out Jaime’s receipt, Brienne remembers Jaime physically blocking her from handing cash over to the bewildered woman at the art museum’s ticketing counter. And how she found that he had slipped money into her pocket at some point during their time on Tarth, though she had deliberately arrived at the ferry terminal early so she could buy their tickets for them both. She wonders if she should feel offended. She bites back a smile instead.

They walk back to her apartment building, hand in hand. They don’t speak much again, but the silence is something pleasant this time. As if a weight has lifted, and yet also settled between them both. She reaches her other hand over and wraps it around his forearm. Gods, it feels even better than it looks. How is that even possible?

They reach his car, linger there, hands still glued together. Ask him, Brienne. Just ask. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Do you—do you want to come up? Margaery brought wine this afternoon but we didn’t get around to it. If you’d like some.”

“Oh! Uh—”

And then Brienne realises how that sounds. Oh gods, I didn’t mean to imply— “I don’t mean—” Fuck, does he think I’m— “I haven’t even—” Nope, he doesn’t need to know that— “I just mean, it’s nearby, and the only thing around here that’s open late is this one pub and that can get really noisy—we could go sit in the park, I suppose, but it’s pretty dark right now and it’s a bit of a detour—”

“No, I, I would love to go up—I mean—to, to talk. Or whatever.”

Or whatever.

▼

And, it’s awkward again.

Brienne is sitting next to him on her couch, both her hands in her lap, and she’s so stiff that he’s reminded of the way she sits at her desk at the office. He lets his eyes wander around her apartment while they sit in silence. Everything is simple and functional, save a framed picture on a bookshelf of someone he assumes is her father. But it feels warm nonetheless. Maybe it feels warm because Brienne is in it. Because it’s an extension of her. He thinks, for one of the few times in his life, that he is in a space that feels like a home.

Their two glasses of wine sit on her coffee table, untouched.

“Brienne—” he starts, but at the same time five words come out of her mouth in a rush:

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

◯ 

Brienne had been thinking about it the whole way from his car to her couch. It seemed to her like that was where this night was headed, and she just couldn’t stop thinking of those five words. They echoed in her brain as she poured them two glasses of wine, and set them down on the coffee table.

But I didn’t have to say it, did I?

“Shit. I didn’t mean to—” She brings her hands up to her face, as if she could contain the burning of her skin with her palms.

Then, she feels Jaime’s hand wrap around her wrist, guide her hands down.

“Okay,” he whispers, though there’s no one around to overhear his words. It’s just the two of them, on her couch. This—this is the entire known universe. “Thank you for telling me.”

And then he shifts toward her. Their thighs are two parallel lines, defying all mathematical logic by meeting at every single point. One of Jaime’s hands winds around her waist, towards her lower back. The other is moving up to caress her cheek. Brienne can’t tear her eyes away from his lips, which are moving in closer and closer and—

▼

“Ow! Fuck!”

Jaime’s brain is reverberating in his skull. Okay, so maybe this doesn’t hurt as bad as that one time him and Addam decided to headbutt each other for fun (it wasn’t fun, and they were more than old enough to know that it wouldn’t have been). But when you’re expecting lips to meet instead of foreheads—

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry Jaime.”

“It’s fine,” he says, as he rubs his brow with his fingers. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m sorry. Do you need ice, or something?” He feels her tender touch on his forehead, something selfless, though it must have been equally painful for her.

“No, I’m fine, really.” Jaime opens his eyes and looks through the mess of all of their fingers. Her blue eyes are glistening in the warm glow of the lamp standing next to her couch. “Oh hells, Brienne, don’t cry.”

“I’m not!” she insists. And then a tear runs down her cheek. “Well, I wasn’t going to until you said that!”

He wipes away one tear, and another. “If you don’t want to—if you’re not ready—we don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she says. It sounds to Jaime like fear and desire in the same breath. “It’s just—I’m nervous because I really want to, and I’ve never done it, and I don’t want you to think—”

◯

Words don’t exist.

Jaime is kissing her and words don’t exist.

What are words? There is only the feeling of his lips on hers, his hand around her neck, his hand that she already knows is warm because her own hand has held it, his other hand on her cheek. There is only her own fingers in his hair, tracing the ridges of his scalp, down to the back of his neck, daring to slip beneath his collar, and Brienne finds perhaps that she has no need for oxygen ever again.

When Jaime breaks from her, all the words come rushing back into her brain, and with that, all her thoughts, her fears. “How was that?” she can’t help but ask.

Jaime just smiles at her, and doesn’t answer. Perhaps words stopped existing for him too. After a while, he asks, “How was that for you?”

“I… I liked it.” It sounds trivial, when she puts it like that. But she can’t think of anything else to say. She just knows she doesn’t want to kiss anyone else but Jaime. Ever. But maybe that’s something she should keep to herself, for now.

“I liked it too,” Jaime echoes, still smiling at her. “Do you want to—we could keep—”

“Please,” she hears herself say. Please.

As Jaime leans towards her again—leans over her, more like; she must have reclined onto her cushions at some point in that period of wordlessness—Brienne suddenly feels compelled to voice a confession. To put something into words.

“Jaime,” she whispers up to him. “I—I never thought I would have a chance at—at any of this.” A chance at dates, and kisses—and whatever comes after, eventually. A chance at love, she dares to think, even if she won’t say that word quite yet, and won’t for a while longer.

“I could say the same to you,” he breathes.

“Really?” How could that be possible?

“Really,” Jaime says, with a quiet conviction, a singular truth. He tucks her hair behind her ear, and lets his fingers linger on her cheek. “But we could have a chance, don’t you think?”

This time, Brienne doesn’t reply. She doesn’t put it into words.

Words—words don’t exist. Not for the rest of this night.

#fictober19 #jaime x brienne #braime #my fic #hope you like it! i think it's romantic and funny? lol #i never knew home until i found your hands

[the-blueish-trashcan]

He’s in Charge; Chapter Five

Pairing: Henry/Bertrum

Warnings: Minor violence, homophobia, transphobia

A/N: Finally introducing miss Susie Campbell herself! Unfortunately, Henry lets it slip to her what the nature of his relationship is with his mystery poet. She doesn’t exactly take it well, and neither does Joey when he finds out. It leads to another altercation between the two, this one a little more physical than the last. Also, a quick side note; It’s mentioned in this chapter that Henry binds his chest. This being said, the options today are much different than they were back then. Please, only use binding options from a reputable manufacturer.

Chapter word count: 2,160

{First part} {Previous part} {Next part}

Chapter Five; The Angel

Henry arrived on time on Monday morning. He was more well-rested than he had been for the past week. Some lights on the first floor were already on, save for by his desk. Those he turned on himself and slid into his chair, setting his mug down to one side. Only then did he notice a paper in the middle, folded, with his name on it. He quickly recognized the script as Bertrum's, since it couldn't possibly anyone else. As if afraid to touch it, he hesitantly unfolded the paper. Another poem, much sadder-sounding than the last one he’d been given. 

“Oh gosh…” Henry bit his lip and sat back, reading the words over a second time. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that he'd hurt Bertrum by running out. For a moment, his mind was blank. He didn't know if he should go see him and make amends or not. Partly, he worried that may just make things worse and if he understood the words, Bertrum did want to stay friends. Shaking his head, he set it to the side as well, deciding that for the time being, he could distract himself with drawing.

*****

For practice, and partially for fun, Henry had decided to draw expressions with his toons, starting with Bendy, of course. He had a full range of emotions scattered across several pages. He started to work on a few with Boris, as well, but his attention quickly drifted to one of his newest creations, Alice Angel. He was able to draw a smile and a frown before he sat back and examined the drawing. Seeing the expressions in his mind was one thing, but transferring them to the paper was another story without a reference. He thought for a moment, then got up from his chair and made his way through the first floor of the studio, then down the stairs to the music department. 

The main floor was alive with musicians and voice actors alike, all rushing to be somewhere. Coming out of the orchestra hall was just the person he was looking for, her wavy blond hair lightly pinned back with a couple clips. She wore a pale blue blouse with lace trim, tucked into a dark blue knee-length skirt. As Henry got closer and caught her attention, Susie waved. 

“Morning, Mister Stein.” She greeted, smiling.

“Hello, Miss Campbell. Do you have a few minutes? I'm doing some sketches upstairs, I could use a model.”

At the request, she perked up. “Sure, I've got some time between sessions. Whatcha working on?”

Henry started to go back upstairs, Susie just behind him. “I'm working on some sketches of Alice, actually! I figured you'd be the right person to come to for it.”

“Of course!” She giggled. “I'm Alice Angel~!” She sang, causing Henry to laugh as well. It didn't take long to reach Henry's desk, but as Susie plopped herself down in the extra chair, she spoke up again. “So I heard down the grapevine that you've been having girl trouble.”

Henry froze partway sitting down, a stack of blank paper in his hands. He quickly recovered, though, shifting his chair to face the actress with the paper on his lap. “I- well, sort of, it's… it's complicated. Could you do this for me?” He faked a shocked expression and so did Susie for a few moments.

“I just remember hearing about a poem and you saying you couldn't figure out who wrote it.” When she wasn't talking, she held the expression.

“Yeah, well… it doesn't really matter now, miss.”

“Why not? You seem so lonely, having a girl around might be good for you!”

Henry glanced up. “Wow, gee, thanks.”

“Oh- no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that… You always work alone, you live alone… you can't be totally happy like that, are you?” She shrugged. “Having someone there might just help you, that's all.”

“I mean…” Henry considered it. “I suppose you have a point…” Henry looked up and made an exaggerated pouting face, which Susie copied. “I just don't think it's going to work out with… the one that wrote the poems.”

“More than one?”

The animator sighed. “Yeah… I messed things up pretty majorly the other night-”

“Oh my God, did you go on a date?!” She leaned forward, placing a hand lightly on his knee. “What'd you do?” 

“Well… I think… Well, first off, I… haven't really been on a lot if dates. I didn't really know what I was doing, it took me a while to figure out it even really was a date-”

Susie rolled her eyes. “You're hopeless.”

“Yeah… But I think… I think we were about to kiss, so I panicked and left. I found another poem on my desk this morning, I think it's saying that we should still be friends.”

Susie leaned back in her chair, thinking for a moment. “Is that what you want?”

“I… really don't know.”

“Maybe try getting her flowers, then. Apologize, tell her you're a goof and were just intimidated by how pretty she is! That might help.”

“I don't think flowers are the way to go on this one…” He looked up and made another face, Susie following his lead.

“Okay, look. Do you care about this girl?” She did her best to hold the look. 

“...I do.” He nodded.

“And you want to spend time with her?”

He considered the dates he and Bertrum had been on, how nice they were. Bertrum had a way of making him smile he didn't really understand. “Yes.”

“Are you in love with her?”

Henry bit his lip. “How would I tell?”

“How does she make you feel?”

Henry tilted his head. “He makes me feel… good. Like I deserve more than I have. He makes me feel like my ideas matter, that I matter. He makes me feel like… I'm more than just what I can make, he knows there's more to my life than this place, and he cares about that part of me too. He's so tall and so good-looking, but he's so kind to me, I don't really get it, but being around him is so nice…�� When he looked up, both of Susie's thin eyebrows were raised, the expressions she'd been making before given way to a genuine one of surprise.

“Don’t you mean she?” Was all she said. 

Henry flushed, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, as little as it did. “I- Well, you know, I- uhm…” He scrambled for words, but couldn't find any. 

“Wow. Alright then.” Susie shifted in her seat, then stood up. “You know, they're probably gonna be needing me downstairs soon. Have fun with your sketching.” She gave a small wave and moved off, the short heels of her shoes clicking quickly on the floor as she went.

Forcing a deep breath in, Henry turned back to his desk. He had no idea how Susie was going to handle the information he'd accidentally given her, let alone who she would tell about it. It didn't help the situation with Joey, either… He tangled his hands in his hair, hunching over to rest his elbows on the desk. He could not have made more of a mess.

*****

Despite her leaving under strange or even uncomfortable circumstances, Henry's conversation with Susie stuck in his mind until late that evening. He'd already clocked out for the night, but paused on the stairs out of the breakroom. He enjoyed his time with Bertrum, more than he would if they were just friends and based on the way Bertrum had written, it was easy to tell he thought may have lost his chance with Henry. The animator did not want this to be the case. He nodded to himself, then started on his way down to the prototype park, hoping Bertrum hadn't gone home for the night just yet.

*****

Henry was nearly to the planning room when he spotted someone else coming up the hall towards him. As he got closer, he saw the familiar outfit of a beige button-up, dark red tie and brown suspenders; It was Joey, and though he looked upset at first, his face changed when his eyes fell on Henry, that fake, dangerous smile surfacing. A chill went all the way up Henry's spine.

“Well look who's still here! What a surprise.” Joey's voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“Hi, Joey…” Henry's voice came out more hesitant than he meant it to. 

“Going to visit ol’ Bertie, are we?” He asked, chuckling. Henry could hear the alarm bells sounding in his mind, but didn't get the chance to do anything about it. Joey reached out and grabbed him by the collar with both hands, pulling their faces closer together. Henry's hands clamped down on Joey's wrists. From that distance, it was easy to see the discoloration still left under his eyes, as well as the ridge in his nose where it was starting to heal. “I know what's going on here. I know what you two have been doing behind my back and I'll tell you this, it's going to stop. He's a public figure. If word gets around that he's been going around with a male lover, who happens to be my animator, we're through. He's through. The company's toast. So you've got a choice to make here, Henry. You keep seeing him, I let out your little secret. Suddenly it's a woman he's been seeing, but oh no! Joey Drew Studios’s only animator was a woman the whole time! That won't do for anyone, will it? So your other option is to just fuck off and let everything go back to normal, hm? Am I clear?”

Choking on the lump in his throat, Henry nodded frantically. He could feel Joey's skin break under his nails where he was digging them in, but neither man reacted.

“Are you sure?” He snarled.

“Yes.” Henry squeaked, and he let go. Without saying another word, Joey walked away. Not towards the stairs back up, but to some other depth of the studio. Henry didn't much care where he'd gone, though. He looked at his hands. Blood stuck under the short nails of his index and middle fingers, and they were both shaking hard. He was suddenly very aware of himself, the way he shook all over and how small he really was in such a large hallway. Joey had made it clear that only one option would be good for him, even if it wasn't exactly what he wanted. He scuffed back upstairs before he could think on it more, only stopping briefly in a bathroom to get the blood off of himself. When he was finished, he rushed to his car, barely holding his emotions in check by then.

*****

Henry did not make it to the studio the next day, at least not on time. He just couldn't. Between Susie- who had probably told Joey about his slip-up- and Joey himself, plus the possibility of having to see Bertrum again, he couldn't handle it. Just one day, he told himself, to try and get himself back together, whatever that meant.

He'd hardly slept the night before, far more concerned about everything Joey had said, and where he could possibly be getting all the things he had about Henry recently. He paced around his room as the sun started to show through the far window, dressed in a tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants. A fairly large length of ACE bandage lay not far from the door, as well as his work shirt and pants. His tie was just next to the foot of his bed. The mess was not one of his priorities, though. 

He ran a hand through his hair for the hundredth time, mumbling to himself. One thing Joey had been right about was he had to be careful who he trusted, a mistake he wouldn't be able to make again. He sighed deeply. The only other person in the studio he remotely trusted was Wally, but he couldn’t he could even confide in the janitor anymore. 

He found his mind wandering to something Bertrum had said about taking Joey to court. At the time, he’d dismissed the idea quickly, too afraid of the repercussions. Not to mention, even if Bertrum did pay for him, he’d have to pay him back somehow. He removed his hand from his hair and bit down on the nail of his index finger. He didn’t have many other options, really; He was tired of Joey pushing him around and ignoring him, really, and knew the man was just using fear to keep him where he wanted, but it was working. He sighed again, Starting to gather himself together to get dressed.

He needed to talk to Bertrum as soon as possible, despite what Joey had threatened to do.

#long post #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writers on tumblr #batim #batim fanfic #batim au #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the ink machine au #bendy and the ink machine fanfic #Henry Stein #susie campbell #joey drew #oh look I'm updating anyway #got nothin better to do so

[mianix]

"Mine" ~ A Gift Fic for LukeLemon-Art

I have been among the DBH community for a few months now and the one thing I love most about it is how supportive everyone seems to be. It doesn’t matter if you are an artist, writer, animator, video editor, cosplayer etc. You are welcomed here with open arms and encouraged to do your very best.

The best example of this I can give is @lukelemon-art. I have watched them encourage people of all mediums and fandoms to do well. I’ve experienced their fun nature and their generosity myself when they reblogged my friend @bunnylove56’s Reed900 fic when they weren’t sure anyone would like it. They gave her the confidence to keep going and I adore Luke for conspiring with me to get her to keep going. I never expected it and it only proves my point further.

The above artwork was recently done by Luke with an amazing backstory of Connor, discarding his LED and Gavin chooses to keep it, worn by a leather strap around his neck. Not only did this warm my heart, but inspired me to write my first Convin story as a gift to Luke for all their kindness, not just to me, but the community. Their art makes me happy, as I imagine it does a lot of you. So here’s me supporting their art and repaying them for too many kindnesses to count. 

Note: This gift fic is rated M and contains a big old lemon…lol Because of Tumblr’s new rules and to be safe, the preview will end with a link to finish the story on AO3 instead of the typical cut to read the entire thing on my blog. So if you aren’t into reading something a bit smutty, go back now, gentle reader.

———-

Connor wondered, honestly, what frustrated him more: the idea of Detective Reed disobeying Hank’s direct orders, or the fact that Connor had made a deal with him to get them to this point.

He had been trying diligently over the past year to find ways of endearing himself to the bitter Detective, but nothing he did seemed to quell the man’s hatred for him. No amount of help, kind gestures, or careful consideration had changed a thing between them.

They fought constantly on the job and it had shown its own wear on Connor over time. He recalled how, in a fit of frustration, he had pulled off his own LED and tossed it at the Detective’s feet.

“THERE! Since it bothers you so much! Now you can stop complaining about it and actually get some work done. Oh, wait. That’s right! I mean sit on your damn phone instead of actually helping us for once!”

Everyone had looked shocked to see such anger come from him, but they often forgot he was no longer a thing who took orders. It had all just boiled over and he couldn’t take it anymore. A part of him felt guilt at the look that crossed Reed’s face, but he walked away before he could worry on it too much. In that moment, he felt justified, but later he regretted it.

If for nothing else, he had taken pride in wearing his LED once he’d deviated to remind him of their struggle and to never be ashamed of who he was. Because it made him into the man he was now, who had friends, family and a life that was entirely his own.

This, naturally, was how he found himself helping assist Detective Reed into his apartment.

“Last door, on the left.” Gavin groaned as he stumbled a bit.

They’d been in a scuffle only an hour before, all thanks to Detective Yells-Too-Much. Hank, in some disturbing thought to force them to into being civil, had downright ordered them to work together.

“Frankly, everyone is getting tired of listening to you two argue all the time. It’s not productive and seriously hurts office morale. We’re fucking homicide. We see gruesome death and tragedy on the daily and somehow you two bitching every day is making it even worse.” Hank had said, frustrated when the two had yet another blow up.

“What about Nines?” Gavin had asked. It seemed the further from friendly he got from Connor, the more he stopped harassing the RK900 model. He’d actually started working with him, to Connor’s surprise.

“We’re swapping partners for the week. Nines will work with me and you two need to learn to work together. Fowler’s down my neck about this and if you two can’t work this out there’s the possibility of reassignment to a different department.”

That had gotten a reaction, from both of them. Because it would likely be one or the other, which meant Connor would have to leave Hank or Gavin would be losing his position in his preferred field. Neither of these were an option.

Connor moved to the door, pressing Reed to the wall to help him stand better.

“Keys?” Connor asked.

“Pocket.” Gavin replied with a twinge of pain. They’d been staking out a warehouse, helping out the drug division on a red ice case, but couldn’t seem to not fight. They were completely hopeless being stuck in the confines of Gavin’s car and their inability to ignore one another got them caught.

They were set upon by some low level lackey’s who luckily were too stupid to be properly armed. Connor had sustained some damage to his arm, but had come out holding his own. Reed, on the other hand, had not. A quick glance at the wound on his abdomen told Connor the glass bottle had cut Gavin as he tried to dodge it. He would be okay, but he would need stitches and proper medical care.

“Fuck that. I don’t have the money to pay for an ER visit. I’ll just do it myself, like always.” Gavin had said with labored breathing as Connor drove them away from the warehouse, the sound of gunfire finally breaking the air as more lackeys came to their friends’ aid. It was fight or flight for Connor and at seeing his human companion bleeding and exhausted, he chose to live and fight another day.

“What do you mean like always?” Connor asked incredulously. It was purely rhetorical though as he didn’t need to consider it much to know Gavin Reed refused to go to the hospital unless he was taken there by force… or unconscious. Connor considered that as a valid option, but cast it aside at the thought of the assault charges that might accompany it when Gavin gained consciousness.

But Reed was stubborn and finally they’d come to a compromise: Gavin would allow Connor to do it for him. He could locate the proper programs to accomplish the task of patching Reed up. If he could not get him proper medical help, then this was the next best option.

Connor stared at the Detective, whose free arm hung a bit limply at his side. Blood could be seen staining his shirt there, as well. Wonderful. Without much thought, Connor plunged his hand down into the Detective’s jean pocket to feel around for keys. He felt Gavin stiffen at his shoulder.

“Fuckin’ careful, dipshit. You’re grabbing my keys, not playing pocket pool.” Gavin bit out between clenched teeth. Connor ignored him and pulled the keys out, setting about the task of opening the door. Once he did, he heard a loud mewling getting closer.

The small, furry head of a cat peeked through the crack of the door, it’s tiny paw pulling at it to further open it.

“Don’t let him out. He’s a fucking escape artist.” Gavin groaned as he pushed the door in and pressed the cat inside. Connor followed behind him, closing the door and entering into Gavin Reed’s apartment for the first time.

Gavin went directly for his cabinets as the first room they entered was the kitchen. Off to the right was an open archway into what Connor considered was the living room. He didn’t have much time to consider it though as he watched Reed pulling out more medical supplies then he figured most humans would keep in their homes.

“How often do you get injured on the job?” Connor asked at the fully stocked cabinet of disinfectants, gauze, bandages and other medical supplies.

“Enough to be prepared.” Gavin replied as he opened a drawer to his left and pulled out a partially full bottle of whiskey and a small, unmarked kit. Connor eyed him for a moment, but decided it wasn’t worth the headache.

Gavin sat on the counter with some difficulty and Connor had no choice but to help him, as his arm was of no real use. Once there, Gavin opened the whiskey bottle with his teeth and took a deep dram of the amber liquid. Connor immediately took hold of the bottle and pulled it away.

“What the fuck, Connor? You gonna make me go through this stone cold sober?” Gavin asked bitterly.

“You’re the one who refused to go to the hospital, where they could ease the pain you’re about to feel. You have no room to complain and I need you lucid.” Connor said simply. Perhaps a small part of him enjoyed mocking Reed, but he tried not to think on it too much.

Connor turned to look at the supplies he was given and felt his eyes flutter as he downloaded the necessary program to properly sew stitches. He considered asking how Gavin also had access to the items required to do this, but was certain he’d probably either not get a response or would get a bullshit one.

Connor lifted the hem of Gavin’s shirt, glancing to assess the damage, but knowing full well his first instinct was correct. He did his best to clean the wound, having Gavin hold his shirt up so he could work. Connor noticed he was in pain, but he gritted his teeth against it.

“Since we have some quiet time, are you ready to tell me why you hate me so much?” Connor asked, figuring anything that distracted Gavin would be better than letting the man suffer.

“Because you’re a brown nosing cunt who - FUCK! The hell Connor?” Gavin roared when Connor threw caution to the wind and straight up applied the chemical cleanser without care to the wound.

“Sorry. My hand slipped.” Connor replied stiffly as he grabbed another piece of cloth and tried to be more gentle. Gavin glared at him, still tensing for the pain he no doubt anticipated, but Connor was content with letting the snide remark go.

“What do you care whether or not I like you anyway? We’re not partners, so why the hell should you give a damn?” Gavin asked, choosing his wording more carefully this time as Connor dabbed around the edge of his cut.

“I’ve only been trying to figure it out since day one. You’d think I personally wronged you in some way.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m an asshole to all androids.” Gavin replied. Connor’s eyes lifted and he noted Gavin had been watching him, but the moment their eyes met he quickly looked away.

“That’s not true, actually. What about Nines? You show him more regard than you ever have for me.” Connor said pointedly, not faltering in his look. Something passed over Gavin’s face, it was minute, but it was there. A moment of panic, then recovery.

“Nines does as he’s told. He doesn’t get in my way or stop me from doing my job.” Gavin replied and his eyes came back to Connor, side glancing him, then looking down to where the small cat was perched on the floor, watching them. It moved gracefully, wiggling its tiny behind before it jumped on the counter beside Gavin and stepped on his thigh. Gavin opted to focus there.

“Nines also is still an android. It’s very simple Detective. I. AM. ALIVE. I’m not a piece of furniture for you to do with as you please and until you learn this, it will be the primary cause of our arguments.” Connor said in quick succession. How many times must they have this conversation, re-worded in so many different ways?

“I’m in fucking pain here. Can’t you give me a break, just once?” Gavin asked and Connor noted his voice sounded weary. The cat at his thigh pressed its face into Gavin’s palm and he gave it such a momentary look of tenderness that It shocked Connor. Then it walked further up Reed’s leg, jumped effortlessly onto his shoulder and stood there.

“That’s not really sanitary for what we’re doing Reed.” Connor began, but found himself intrigued by how the cat walked behind Gavin’s head and laid itself around his neck and shoulders so casually. Its foot disturbed the leather strap that usually hung around the Detective’s neck, dipping down into his shirt. Connor had always wondered what that was, but opted to not pry.

“The cat stays. He’s more of a comfort than you are.” Gavin said, but it wasn’t as mean spirited as it might’ve normally been, because the cat was rubbing its face against the stubble on his chin. Connor just watched, forgetting himself momentarily. Who the hell is this and what did he do with Gavin Reed?

When Gavin’s eyes came back to Connor he seemed to remember himself and that look of indifference came back. It broke the momentary spell and Connor continued working.

Silence hung between them as he worked, except for the purring of the cat on Gavin’s shoulders and the occasional groan or gasp of pain from him as Connor used skilled hands to suture up the cut. He preferred the silence, not remembering a time when the two of them had been so close and not blowing up into a full argument.

He wasn’t sure why this gentler side of the Detective intrigued him. He did not even know he had a pet and never would’ve guessed he could be affectionate with anything. But as long as Connor pretended not to notice, Gavin lavished the animal with attention. Had he ever seen the Detective smile where it didn’t feel like he was baring his teeth as a threat? No, not around Connor. In the pain, he sought comfort in the animal and it seemed to sense his need of it. It never left his shoulders, nuzzling and pawing at the man the more his discomfort seemed to peak.

When he was done with his side, Connor moved to roll up the sleeve on Gavin’s shirt. This wound was superficial in comparison to the other and needed nothing more than a bandage. He stepped into Gavin, the Detective’s knee brushing the inside of Connor’s thigh. Gavin jumped, startling the cat, but did not remove it.

“Careful.” Gavin said in a low tone. Connor tilted his head, trying to figure out what exactly had set the Detective off. Gavin moved his knee, unable to meet Connor’s eyes and with a slight blush filling his cheeks.

“You do realize I have no genitalia to injure, correct?” Connor said innocently enough, but Gavin’s face went a bright shade of red almost instantly at his words.

“Why the fuck would you tell me that?” Gavin asked, obviously startled by this admission.

“You feared hurting me, didn’t you?” Connor asked in reply.

“That is so fucking weird.” Gavin continued with a groan as he covered his face with his one free hand.

“I’m a prototype, Detective. What use would I have for - “

“STOP talking. Please? Just, stop.” Gavin begged, still not looking at him. Silence hung between them, awkward to say the very least. Then Reed broke the silence. “Your arm. It’s injured.”

Connor looked down to observe the blue blood soaking through his jacket arm. He pulled his arm out of it and found his white dress shirt was covered in blue as well. Connor shrugged his jacket off, laying it neatly over the kitchen chair. When he turned back, Gavin was moving tenderly off the counter.

“Wait.” Connor called out as he went to help the man down. Reed waved his hands away, the cat still laying around his neck like a scarf. It yawned, unbothered, and Connor wondered if this was a natural thing for these two with how contented it was soaking up the Detective’s warmth.

“Get on the counter.” Reed said suddenly as he reached for the small, unmarked kit he’d had hiding with the whiskey bottle. Connor eyed it curiously, but when Reed turned and noticed him not moving he added, “Get a move on.”

“I’ll be fine. Once I’m back at the office I can use one of the android repair kits to patch up my arm. You needn’t worry.”

“What the hell do you think this is?” Reed asked as he opened the small container. To Connor’s surprise, it was an android repair kit. A crudely put together one, yes, but still exactly what was needed for superficial wounds like what Connor had. He stared at Gavin, who seemed to be getting flustered by Connor’s sudden attentions. “What?”

“I’m just surprised you’d have something like that so readily available.” Connor responded truthfully. He wouldn’t think that Gavin would even care enough to keep something like that around.

“I have an android partner. Why wouldn’t I?” Gavin asked, glaring at him. But there was something else there and for the first time, in a long time, Connor saw something in his peripheral vision. It was faint, but unmistakable as it ghosted into his vision.

Software instability ^^

It had been over a year since he’d deviated, since he’d broken free from his programming. These programs were gone and yet, for whatever reason, it had shown on his periphery screen.

Without knowing why, Connor obeyed and sat on the counter without any argument. Reed moved close and looked awkwardly at his arm, stared, then looked away.

“You’re gonna have to remove your shirt. I can’t get to it and if we need the soldering iron I wouldn’t recommend putting it close to fabric.” Gavin said simply. He wasn’t looking at Connor, but focusing on the cat on his shoulder instead.

“Of course.” Connor responded and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Connor didn’t know why, but there was static in the air that seemed to intensify with each button he undid. Gavin wasn’t looking at him, but he felt like he was being watched anyway.

Once the shirt was open, he slid his arms out of it and laid it neatly beside him. He turned to look at the cut and as he figured it wasn’t anything to worry about. He would likely be scarred from the soldering, but that wasn’t important. He turned back to look expectantly at the Detective, but stopped.

Gavin was still looking away from him, arms crossed at his chest. Connor noted something else of interest. Gavin’s pulse was elevated. He’d attributed this to stress and pain as he worked on Gavin’s wounds, but now he wasn’t so sure. His eyes could see piloerection forming on the man’s forearms; goosebumps. And the red hue that had been on his face had traveled down his neck to the skin peeking out from the v neck shirt he wore.

“Gavin?” Connor asked when the man did nothing. He saw him take a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily, exhaling. Then his eyes turned, focused hard on Connor’s and faltered. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little light headed from blood loss. I’ll be fine.” Gavin responded. But when he moved towards Connor, he caught a downward glance that became fixated on his thirium pump regulator. As if involuntary, Gavin’s hand came out and moved as if to touch it, but recoiled after a moment. As if he didn’t realize he was doing it.

The static intensified and made Connor’s skin prickle.

“Are you sure you’re okay Gavin? The wound is superficial and can wait if you’d like to sit down.” Connor offered, completely confused by this sudden change in demeanor. The whole time his cat perched, unbothered and suddenly unnoticed by Gavin as his eyes focused on Connor’s bare torso. Connor saw the man’s eyes dilate.

Software instability ^^

Gavin moved closer, setting the kit to one side of Connor’s hip, then taking his hand in his own to position Connor’s arm where it would be easiest to work on it. All Connor could do was watch, oddly fascinated by whatever phenomena was taking over the Detective and possibly…himself. This was new and fascinating to him. Exciting, even.

At one point, not wanting to focus so much of his attention on Gavin, Connor lifted his hand and stroked the back end of the cat as it purred happily. He saw Gavin’s eyes glance towards his hand, stiffening slightly until he realized its destination. He shook his head, blinking with a short breath as he set back to task.

“Okay. That should do it. Grip my hand.” Gavin said as he lifted his hand in front of him. Not in a handshake, but in fully open palm in front of Connor. He pressed his open palm to Gavin’s, entwined their fingers and gripped. “No malfunctions or weakness?”

“No. It feels just fine, actually. Thank you.” Connor replied genuinely, but Gavin was not quick to release his hand. Connor eyed him, that curiosity itching so much to be scratched. What was this? He felt his own thirium pump shift, more static. This was having a physical effect on him he could not place, the longer Gavin held his hand like that. “Gavin?”

In an instant, he hand let his go and he turned back to the table to place everything back into the kit.

“You should be good now. Probably best if you left. I should get some rest.” Gavin said quickly, but something else caught Connor’s attention as Gavin turned his back on him. Blood on the back of the Detective’s shirt. Another wound he hadn’t seen.

“Gavin. You’re still injured.” Connor said as he hopped down off the counter and walked over to him. He felt Gavin tense as he took the rim of the neckline on his shirt and pulled it down a bit.

“It’s okay. I can do it.” Gavin said quickly.

“It’s on your back. You can’t reach there. Take off your shirt and I’ll get it for you.” Connor offered. When Gavin didn’t move, he added “As soon as I make sure it’s nothing bad I will leave. You agreed to this earlier, remember?”

Gavin sighed, lifted his hands to gently remove the cat from his shoulders. He sat it onto the floor where it remained, staring up at them as if disappointed to no longer be a part of the situation. Then, begrudgingly, Gavin put his hands to the hem of his shirt and tugged upwards. For a moment, Connor caught the flash of something blue glint as it moved at the base of Gavin’s neck, then he realized that it was an LED. Unmistakably, his LED.

Gavin’s eyes followed his no doubt startled looking ones to the necklace at his chest and realization dawned there as he turned away, scrambling to get back into the shirt. Maybe hoping Connor didn’t notice?

“Gavin…” Connor began, but Gavin just started walking away from him. Without thought, he pursued the man as he entered his bedroom off the living room. Gavin tried to close the door, but Connor pushed it open easily as Gavin stumbled backwards. “Is that my LED?”

“It’s not what you think.” Gavin said quickly as he stood by the bed, arm out as if Connor might punch him. But Connor didn’t feel anger. He didn’t know what to feel, because he didn’t know why a part of him was hanging around Gavin Reed’s neck.

“Is that my LED?” Connor asked again. “Let me see it.”

He stepped forward, hand outstretched to pull at the leather straps that held it up, but Gavin smacked his hand away. That startled him, but did not stop his pursuit. Gavin grabbed at his hands, trying to prevent him from seeing it again and Connor found himself struggling with the Detective, being pulled towards him, hitting the bed and straddling over Gavin as he yanked the man’s shirt down. It was his LED, still glowing a dim blue as it pulsated against Gavin’s chest as his heart rate elevated quickly.

Gavin was breathing heavily and that red hue was more apparent on his chest as Connor held the shirt collar open. Gavin’s eyes were lidded and suddenly Connor realized something. Like all the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

“You-” He began, but Gavin leaned up quickly and pressed his lips against his. Connor’s eyes widened, unsure of what to do, but finding himself intrigued. Fascinated. He could analyze the alcohol still left on Gavin’s tongue as it ghosted between his lips. His body temperature peaked, the open eyes watching him fully dilated and a scent lingered between them, coming from the Detective’s skin. Gavin took his bottom lip between his own and tugged. Connor felt something at this, but could not define it and that only made him pursue it more.

Static.

———-

Continue Reading on AO3

———-

Visit the lovely LukeLemon-Art:

- Instagram

#convin #gavin800 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #detroit become human #detroit: bh #connor rk800 #dbh connor #detroit connor #fanfic #ao3feed #ao3fic #lukelemon-art

[is-this-a-skam-account]

Shelter Chapter 1 by shawnie1718 (me) on ao3

Drummer!Lucas/Model!Eliott

Omega!Lucas/Alpha!Eliott

It’s that fateful Instagram story which helps connect a certain Omega and a certain Alpha.

(Someone asked me if I posted it on my tumblr because they couldn’t see the photos so here we are!)

———

It was that fateful Instagram story that Lucas’s friend Yann had posted which would later change Lucas’s life. It was only fifteen seconds long. The video itself was jerky and fuzzy, so it didn’t do much in the viewing department. But there in the center of the frame was Lucas, jamming out in the street with bins scattered around him. The jamming session had been totally unprompted. Lucas and Yann had walked up to a street performer as he was playing on his “set of drums.” Lucas had commented something which prompted the performer to ask “would you like to play?” Lucas hesitated and it was Yann who actually pushed him to perform. So Lucas got up there and began to play a simple beat, pretty soon mixing it up and playing more advanced rhythms. Lucas thinks he looks stupid in the video, with his backpack slung around his back and hair flopping around as he jumped. But Yann argues that “that’s what gives it character!” And of course his friend claims that he brought on Lucas’s rise to fame.

Lucas’s following on Instagram blew up when the video went viral. Everyone began wondering who the sexy drummer was that could create awesome rhythms totally unprompted. So, Lucas decided to feed a growing fan base a video of him playing the drums upside down. What else was a man to do? The internet went wild. Lucas didn’t really understand why, but he took it. Lucas then did a follow up video as a thank you, and decided to share with his fans his love for playing guitar and singing.

Thus, he earned the title of the “French Cutie Who Can Do Anything.”

Then came the night Lucas and Yann had been chilling in Lucas’s apartment (which he shares with two other people. Yann always gets upset at him for not getting an apartment of his own “since you have enough money!” But Lucas likes sharing a space. Plus, living with another Alpha and Omega is comforting.) He had been on multiple press tours by this point, and had just finished with his USA tour which hit the main cities such as LA and New York. But it felt nice to be back in Paris, in his apartment, nursing a crappy beer with a French TV show on in the background.

He was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, Yann doing the same but on the other side of the couch, when he suddenly got a notification. Lucas frowned, he thought he had his push notifications for Instagram turned off. He slid over to his messages and read the profile name. Srodulv? How do you even pronounce that? Sro-deulv? Shrodulvsjdn? Like what?

Lucas shoved his phone into his friends face, “do you recognize that name?”

Yann narrowed his eyes at the screen, “the ‘srodulv’ one?” Lucas gaped at him, how did he pronounce that so well? Yann continued, “nah, but you can click on the profile.”

Lucas was about to protest but Yann beat him to it, already tapping on the phone screen to pull up the account. Yann shoved Lucas’s phone back into his face before going back to continue mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. Lucas went immediately to the profile picture and ho- holy shit this guy was hot. His eyes trailed down to the bio where it read “elite model/actor 🇮🇹” Ah well that explains the hotness level.

Lucas continued scrolling to look through the photos. It was obvious the guy was an Alpha, from his air of confidence to his rather dominant features, like how tall he was or his sharp jawline. I bet that jawline could cut glass... Lucas shook himself out of his thoughts and decided to start from the bottom. It started off with some odd posts that didn’t seem to really fit together, some drawing and some videos of old animations. But slowly it turned into more headshots and posts of that sort, probably as he became more into his modeling career. Lucas clicked on one post which caught his eye. Lucas wasn’t sure if he was drooling as he looked into the steely gray eyes. Jesus, is he even real?

Lucas meant to click on the exit button, once, twice. You liked the picture! Lucas felt his heart stop. Nooooo. He looked down to see the date. Lucas wanted to chuck his phone at the wall. Three years ago. Fuck. No getting out of this one.

Lucas began panicking and hitting Yann on the shoulder “bro, mec, ow abuse!” Yann yelled. Lucas ignored his friends remark and shoved his phone back into his friends hands. Yann took a few moments to catch up through evaluating the phone. There was no way Lucas could voice what he had just done. He was too busy trying to fold in on himself. He heard Yann laugh and mumble a “duuude...”

“No, no!” Lucas said frantically and grabbed the phone from his friend, “don’t ‘duuude’ me! HELP me!”

Yann shrugged, “I mean, he’s a model right? He probably gets thousands of likes a day. He probably didn’t even notice.”

That helped calm Lucas a little. Yeah, maybe he didn’t notice. His hopes were crushed, however, when we got another notification. @srodulv sent you a message!

Lucas hovered over the message for a few minutes, really it felt like centuries, before deciding to open it. He first saw the photo @srodulv had sent him. It was a drawing of a small hedgehog sitting at a set of drums, spikes going everywhere. And another small sketch of the same hedgehog with a guitar in hand. Lucas smiled at the photo despite his efforts to repress his smile. He then looked down to see the next message

@srodulv: like what you see?

Lucas wanted to go run...somewhere. No, what he really wanted to do was to just crater in on himself until he was nonexistent.

“Shit, he just messaged me again.” Lucas finally mentioned to his friend.

Yann huffed and sat up from his position on the couch to look over at the phone.

“So? Message him back?”

“Are you crazy?” Lucas squeaked.

Yann laughed, “uh, no. I mean, he’s a model right? Maybe being his friend could help boost your career!” Lucas eyes his friend, “also not that I’d date him, but man those eyes...”

“Okay, okay, get off me.” Lucas said grumpily and shoved his friend off his shoulders.

Lucas hadn’t really been into anyone ever since his crush on Yann. He still wasn’t out to his friends, or the internet. (Though he will say the internet is onto him. They are much smarter than his friends. The internet has speculated that he’s actually an omega despite the fact that he uses suppressants. They help him appear more beta like, especially in person.) He’s come to terms with his sexuality and secondary gender himself, but taking the step into the public eye is a large step. Well, more like a large jump. Especially with how much his life is on display to the world.

When he first presented as an Omega at 15, he was scared. He saw what happened to his mom, who was also an Omega. He loves his mom, he really really does. But he just doesn’t want to end up like her. So, he started taking suppressants. Luckily, his dad wasn’t against getting the prescription, because he was ashamed of having a male Omega as a son. So they agreed to keep that secret between them. That is, until Lucas moved in with Mika. He had to tell him about his secondary gender mainly because of his heats. That would have been a rude awakening for Mika if he were to walk in on Lucas. Lucas usually forces himself into heat, which means he stops taking his suppressants every couple months and sets aside a week for it to happen. He hates his heats. He hates how he becomes so needy, but at the same time he wishes he had an Alpha who could actually satisfy that neediness. Braving heats alone is not an easy task. Every time, it feels like his inner Omega is trying to rip itself from his skin, clawing at it, whining constantly. But it’s better than having an Alpha to control his every move.

Lucas pulls himself out of his thoughts and glances at his friend who is back on his phone, watching...is that a compilation video of dogs catching frisbees?

Lucas takes a deep breath, opening up Instagram.

@lucallemant: well I like the drawing. I suppose the artist isn’t bad to look at either.

He sets his phone to the side, heart pounding. Suddenly, his phone bings. He wasn’t expecting a response so quickly.

@srodulv: I would hope not.

Lucas felt like punching himself in the face he was so anxious.

@lucallemant: so...why a hedgehog?

@srodulv: maybe because someone always has such unruly hair. And maybe because someones nose just looks so boop-able.

Lucas is glad @srodulv let’s the change of subject slip by. But did he just say his nose was...boop-able?

@lucallemant: excuse me, what did you just say?

@srodulv: I think you heard what I said.

@lucallemant: heard? I didn’t hear anything?

@srodulv: you know what I meant! You’re mean... :(

@lucallemant: haha I’m sorry I’m sorry.

@srodulv: so do you accept my compliment on your nose?

Lucas smiled to himself, pretending to rub at his lips to make it seem discreet.

@lucallemant: I suppose I have to. And may I have the honor of knowing the name of the person who gave me such a nice compliment?

@srodulv: where are my manners?! I’m Eliott

@lucallemant: Lucas. Though I suppose you already knew that.

@srodulv: at least I know now for sure that your name is really Lucas. Not just “French Cutie Who Can Do Anything.”

@lucallemant: oh god that is going to haunt me forever, isn’t it?

@srodulv: haha I’m afraid so.

Lucas pauses before saying: so you’re a model then? What’s a model doing drawing ME of all people in fan art.

@srodulv: cmon if anyone deserves fan art it’s you!

Lucas blushes and tries to swipe it away before Yann sees.

@srodulv: I suppose I draw because it’s an outlet of some kind.

@lucallemant: that’s awesome. Well, since my fursona is apparently a hedgehog, do I get to know yours?

@srodulv: haha you know I would like to think of them more as soul animals, but thanks for that thought. My “fursona” is a raccoon.

@lucallemant: a raccoon?

@srodulv: yeah! They wear masks. 🦝

“Dude, quit smiling at your phone like that. You’re freaking me out.” Yann mumbles from beside Lucas, pulling him out of his little Eliott and Instagram bubble.

“Sorry...” Lucas said before letting his gaze trail back on his phone. He saw Yann roll his eyes, but Lucas just brushed it off.

@lucallemant: so how did a model such as yourself stumble upon me?

@srodulv: I couldn’t let a pretty face like yours slip away, could I?

@lucallemant: try again, this time without flirting.

@srodulv: ouch getting called out lol. But I suppose I was in a rough patch and your video sort of helped pull me out.

@lucallemant: which video?

@srodulv: that’s a surprise ;)

Lucas lets a smile take up his lips. His eyes drifted up to the time. Holy- it’s already 1:30 am? He’s gotta go to bed. Classes tomorrow. Thanks college.

@lucallemant: I have to go :( classes early tomorrow.

@srodulv: aw man, you’re still in high school?

@lucallemant: college actually

@srodulv: oh! What are you studying? (Last question for the night and then I’ll have to come to terms with our conversation ending D: )

Lucas snorted a laugh: I’m a bio major. (And I’m sorryyy! I wish I could keep talking too)

@srodulv: then show me how sorry you are. Meet me in Paris when I get back from Japan?

Lucas chewed at his bottom lip. Should he trust this guy? He is an Alpha...

But what’s the worst that could happen...right? Eliott seems like a nice enough guy. Lucas lets his inner Omega instincts take over on deciding what to do.

@lucallemant: sounds like a plan. When do you get back?

@srodulv: it’s a date! I get back in a month!

@lucallemant: looking forward to it. Goodnight, E.

@srodulv: goodnight, Lulu.

Lucas hugs his phone to his chest.

It’s a date!

#skam france #if someone could tell me how to do the read more feature that would be 10/10 #skam #skamfr #eliott demaury #elu

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card!

Don’t ask me why. It’s like I did a 360° on my ideas about being that one local whump hipster asshole. It wasn’t even a request, but the art block was stronk and the tentation even stronker so... DBH whump! I can’t explain, just take it! Father-son Hank & Connor + “Blood from the Mouth” wasn’t in my inbox but fuck it. Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

Nothing Ever Goes Right Around Here

Summary: It was supposed to be a normal case of missing deviants, goddammit. Instead, it turned into a shower of blue blood.

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Wordcount: 3.5K words

Event organized by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

There was this thing about being in the police that all cops knew about: the danger of death. Unless you were stuck behind a terminal waiting for shit to happen or filling goddamn paperwork for the tenth time in two days, you were going to put your life in danger. Criminals were all over trying to get away with their crimes: if it meant killing an officer or two to evade it, then they’d probably do it.

Everyone was aware of these dangers when androids started to become a thing. Housekeeping and making stuff in huge hangars in what used to be the desert part of Detroit hadn’t been enough to contain the “epidemic”: in the end, that one corp named CyberLife had managed to slip some of policer/detective/whatever robots in the police forces to fight against other robots having gone deviant/defective/however they called it.

 In a way, Hank could say his career changed the day he had gotten a partner assigned to him in 2018 Anno Domini (and he only knew what “AD” stood for because he once had gotten through a torrential lecture about it, holy shit that had been boring as balls). A non-human partner. A plastic prick assigned to him because now he was investigating androids or something. Wished he had been warned about facing these assholes before Fowler had slammed them in his face. Would have been nice to get prepared, y’know.

The thing was awkward to look at. It looked goofy with puppy eyes, a haircut which seemed to have dated back from when he was born and with a weird-ass voice with a weird-ass accent. “CyberLife androids are conceived to work harmoniously with humans”, sure. It kept trying to do some fake small talk, including such classics as “I like dogs” and “Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”.

 It wasn’t like it wouldn’t follow him around all the goddamn time. The thing was tenacious as fuck: no matter how many times he’d tell it “don’t go there, you’re gonna get killed”, it’d still do so. Fucking prick. Drinking himself to death? It’d break his window. Eating lunch? It was there, commenting on his street friends taking part in illegal gambles. Getting shot in the fucking head? It’d come back the next day as if nothing had happened, “My predecessor was unfortunately destroyed, but I was sent as a replacement”.

After a while, though, Hank noticed himself warming up to the fucking robot. In fact, he started to refer to the latter as a “he” instead of just “it”. In a way, advanced androids showed: at times, Connor was more human than he would have liked his artificial partner to be. It was too real when he had had to slam his heart back into his chest as it bleed blue everywhere in a staff room.

Way too real.

 In the end, deviant androids weren’t in the wrong and lead a peaceful revolution. Bigotry was still there (when wasn’t it? Being an asshole was a part of being a human being), insults and slurs were still there, deviants hating humans and vice-versa were still there. The world would change, he figured. It always did, so why wouldn’t it change this time? Androids had claimed back the tower in which they had once been conceived, built and stocked: it was already changing.

It was easy to perceive: instead of just having some kind of plastic partner crossed with a poodle trying to sound human, he had a workmate with just a different colour of blood and way to express himself (“androids cannot die, we get shutdown”, “androids cannot get sick, Hank, they can get infected”, yada yada yada). In a way, Connor was the son he had never gotten the chance to see grow up, but he’d be damned if he ever spat that in front of the kid.

 It wasn’t about hunting down deviants for the sake of making them go back to being machines anymore, at the DPD. Now, it was about hunting down violent deviants, find missing androids scared by deviancy, or arresting even more assholes killing androids. Hank wished he didn’t know android sex trafficking was a thing, but it was a few cases too late. It was better than before: he didn’t feel like he was being an ass just for making his job. Connor still licked blood off the floor as if it wasn’t any big deal (God, that was still gross as fuck), but it was better.

So now, he was teamed with a sentient android investigating android-related cases and it wasn’t even swerving his hate nerve anymore. Getting over what had happened to Cole was finally going somewhere thanks to him not being a blind piece of shit about it anymore. How things had changed in such a short span of time.

 All this had brought him to this day. They had been assigned to the case of the disappearance of an SR300 which had apparently gone deviant and fled the place with a similar model, a JL900. Both were android models specialized in education and teaching, and had fled from the high school they were used in.

“I guess being a teach is only slightly better than findin’ corpses on the ground,” Hank grunted as he turned on the car. “These two must have fled because the brats weren’t worth the shitty-ass wage.”

“According to witness accounts, the two have taken shelter in a nearby abandoned school, of which the current school is a rebuilt one,” Connor stated, looking through window to a decrepit building barely standing.

 They both got out of the car, making their way to the old building. It was a disaster to look at: shattered windows, rotting walls with tags all over them, shards of glass and wood on the concrete, weeds starting to take over the entire place and a few animal corpses to sell the thing. It seemed like little shits liked to come here to get a quick laugh by being assholes to innocent animals.

“Look at this. Isn’t it a place where ya wanted to spend a nice afternoon, Connor?” he asked his partner who looked way more serious than he was.

“We usually visit unpleasant locations such as this one,” he replied with an unnatural seriousness. “I don’t see how this is any worse than our usual investigations.”

“Ain’t wrong.”

 They walked into the building through its busted doors, glass breaking even more under their footsteps. The walls weren’t just about to collapse under the weight of four abandoned floors: they were also covered in incoherent, compulsive writings.

“The words on the walls were both written by humans and androids. They used a standard font to write about rA9 again…” Connor seemed to mutter to himself as he scanned the walls.

“So both have been there, huh. That’s just fantastic. We’re trying to find androids and we’re faced with the possibility of humans having put their dirty noses in there.”

 The ground floor was at times inaccessible, huge chunks of wood and concrete having long since blocked most corridors to what seemed to have been administration-related rooms. Oh well, was for the best: the less places to access, the less to actually investigate. Moreover, it blocked most of the staircases, which meant there was no risky stair climbing today. Hey, if the place wasn’t so creepy and such a hazard, it wouldn’t be too bad of an investigation.

But there was a catch to it (there was always a catch to things anyway): there were two ways to go. They’d have to either split up and cover more field or remain together but lose time. He couldn’t tell all by himself what thing to do, even if he was more inclined to split and spend less time in this goddamn debris of a place.

 “Which way is the most likely to have these deviants, Connor?” he asked, thinking some fancy-shmancy scan ability could maybe make that easier.

“I can’t tell. The writings on the walls seem to be very similar on both ways.”

His LED cycled to yellow, a sure sign he was scanning something, perhaps simulating, if he wasn’t wrong about these specificities that was.

“I’d go as far as to say the two androids could have gone either way and could have split at some point.”

“Fuck. Let’s split too then. I’m going left, you’re going right, got it?”

“Got it.”

 Gun in a hand and a flashlight in the other, Hank made his way into the left corridor. It was everything an abandoned school would be in a clichéd horror movie: blood dried on the walls, broken wooden floor tainted in red (from what, he didn’t want to know), incoherent tags filled with penis crudely drown on former paint job… Truly the “work” of some shitheads.

Doors to classrooms were completely busted, revealing most of the furniture had either been moved to the new school or had been stolen. Because of the state of the building, these rooms were all identical: dark, smelling like wet red ice, rotting and just unpleasant to look at for more than three seconds.

 Eventually, his eyes stumbled upon two blue diodes shining in the dark. The deviants were in the last room of the corridor (of course). Making sure to have his gunned hand lowered (if seeing Connor act upon deviants had told him something, it was that being unarmed was better in these cases) and the flashlight more visible. Violent confrontation wasn’t really his cup of coffee these days.

He shined his light onto the two female androids, revealing them to have been sitting still on top of a desk. They didn’t look that scared or surprised to see him, as if they had expected him to come in at some point. He wasn’t the stealthiest cop around, to be fair.

 “Detroit Police,” he told them as he put his gun in its holder for the moment. “Stay put.”

They didn’t say anything back, just stayed there. They were still dressed in their factory uniforms, looking undisturbed enough to seem like they had never gone deviant in the first place.

“What? You’re not reacting or trying to kill me or something?”

The SR300, a brown-haired one with blue eyes, got up and walked closer to him.

“We don’t have to fear anything from you. We already know who you are and who you came with.”

“Guess info does spread amongst deviants. Look, I’m not good at negotiating, especially compared to my partner, but I still wanna know why you fled the place like that. Was it the brats?”

That was soft coming from him, but he didn’t feel threatened by two female androids smaller than him.

 The second android got up too, revealing herself to have brown eyes, darker than Connor’s he’d say, even if the shitty lighting of the place didn’t help.

“We didn’t know what they’d do with us once they knew we were deviants. It was starting to look too obvious.”

“Who, the brats? I don’t think they’d give two shits. Kids are usually nicer than adults about that kind of stuff.”

If he remembered one anecdote from Connor before the latter had deviated, it was the one about the little girl who was taken hostage by the family’s android she loved.

“No, the school staff,” SR900 interjected. “Discrimination against androids is still a thing for us deviants. These dicks wouldn’t want us to think too much. Ironic, considering that’s what school is supposed to teach the kids.”

An android who cursed freely. Felt like talking to a real human for a second over there.

“We escaped so we wouldn’t be chained to our original, programmed mindset,” JL900 added. “Being free is being able to think for ourselves and being able to teach how we want. For once, the students aren’t the issue.”

“So ya escaped because ya wanted free will, right? Seems like a cool motive. Ya killed people while ya were at it?”

“We’re supposed to be teacher androids, Lieutenant.” JL900 seemed offended at this. “We wouldn’t kill people. I don’t think we’ve even unlocked that.”

“Now, if you want a killer deviant, there’s one in the building,” SR300 said as she glanced towards the corridor. “We were about to leave the place anyway, it was just so they’d lose track of us. Now, if I was you, I’d leave too.”

 Wait, how did they know he was a lieutenant? Huh, no, wait again. There was something worse about this.

“There’s another deviant in there?!”

SR300 didn’t seem this disturbed.

“Yeah. A deviant with a knack against other androids and humans alike. He calls himself Brandon, if you ever come across him.”

JL900 didn’t seem this tranquil with it, though.

“Sarah,” she said as she looked at the other android, “isn’t Lieutenant Anderson always accompanied by an android?”

“Oh, yeah, he is,” she replied looking at the ceiling, before starting at him again. “You should go check on your partner, Brandon may have found him.”

That smelled like shit. The calmness of that swearing android was pissing him off beyond reason, to the point he wanted to scream at her for not telling him earlier, but Connor was a priority there.

 Not even saying something again, Hank hurried to the other end of the corridor he had gone in and into the one he hadn’t been in before. As he did so, he armed his other hand with his gun, determined to make it to where the deviant was and shoot him in the head if it meant having his partner alive and perhaps saving the two pacifist androids in the back over there.

As he did so, the stench of the place had changed. It smelled much, much more like plastic and machinery. It was probably his mind playing tricks on him, considering he was getting concerned and almost scared of finding Connor in pieces by that point.

 Getting breathless, he stopped running, trying to catch his breath as soon as possible. Heart beating against his ribcage, cursing himself for having tried to attract death glass after glass, his hand dropped down, lighting the floor. There was this weird ambient noise of someone dragging something on the floor,

His eyes went wild when he noticed there were drops of blue. Whatever Connor had to get his parts functional was spilled on the floor, his or not. Considering the short timespan during which it’d stay wet, it had to belong to one of the four androids in the building. Also considering the pristine condition of the two female androids he had just left, despite the place where they were, it had to belong to either Connor or the deviant. He needed to act fast.

 As he was about to continue delving into the corridors, something grabbed his ankle, almost making him fall.

“Goddammit! Don’t pull my legs, for fuck’s…”

His heart skipped a beat.

“Jesus Christ!!”

 The hand clutching his ankle belonged to Connor, whom he kneeled in front of. There was blue blood all over the android’s fingers and dripping from his mouth, ragged breathing also coming out from it.

“Goddammit, Connor, you’re okay?! What happened to ya?!”

“A deviant… shot me in one of the classrooms… He’s armed…”

“God fucking dammit…”

 Putting his partner’s head on his lap, Hank put the gun back in this pocket and shone the light on the android. It wasn’t too hard to spot the wound: there was a blue hole right in his chest from which liquid oozed, tainting everything it touched in cobaltic tones. The damage seemed to have been enough for Connor to cough up even more blood, all contributing to tainting even more of the place blue.

It was a storm inside Hank’s head. Should he try to stop the haemorrhage the same way he’d so with a human, with red blood? It didn’t cost anything to try. He put his hand on there, trying to use pressure to his advantage, when footsteps arrived next to him.

 There was no LED light around the footsteps’ noise. A “shit” escaped his mouth as he realized this wasn’t any of the two girls from before, but the last deviant in the building. The one with the homicidal tendencies and a lack of empathy to his fellow androids. He needed to get rid of it before it got rid of him.

Regretfully targeting his flashlight towards the deviant, other hand already moving from the wound to his pocket and to his gun, he noticed there was a barrel pointed right between his own two eyes. This was going to end in a bloodbath, wasn’t it.

“Sorry, son,” he whispered under his breath as if Connor could hear it, ready to shoot and get shot, until the barrel disappeared from his immediate vision.

 Two lights had appeared in his field of vision.

“Sir!” SR300’s voice rose from the darkness. “Get away from here as fast as possible! We’re gonna keep him in there long enough, don’t worry for us!”

He wished he didn’t have to resort to that, but seeing Connor cough up some more blue blood was giving him the urge to leave as soon as possible.

“We… we can’t leave them here…” Connor said with echo in his voice and liquid pouring out as Hank was putting him over his shoulder.

“We can’t wait around here, or you’re gonna die! No officer dies on my watch!”

 It was a chore to get moving with someone barely able to walk weighing down on his shoulder, but it had to be done. His partner was attempting to speak despite the leak continuing. Hand on his phone, phone to his ear, ear twitching, he was barking into it to request backup and some kind of medical assistance for androids, whatever that was called.

“Hang on there, we’ll get you to safety and repaired in no time. Just… don’t die on me.”

Connor attempted to speak, only for more blue to come out from it, spilling on the ground.

“And don’t speak, Jesus Christ! You’re gonna make yourself even worse if you do that!”

 Sirens filled the air, lights blinded the eyes, backup deafening sounds and visuals alike. That had been tougher than expected… Of course it’d be. Why did he have expectations of anything going right, again? At least, question solved, right?

  If there was a thing Hank hated deep down, it was waiting for something to happen whenever things turned to shit. He was covered in blue, staring at the wall in a fucking waiting room because he couldn’t focus on anything else. Order from Fowler himself, he didn’t need to add another page to the goddamn bible that was his behaviour history.

The kid had been shot in the chest and he couldn’t have done much about it. He knew he couldn’t have guessed, couldn’t have known, but it still felt like his fault nonetheless. He didn’t care if Connor was supposed to just be robotics with a humanoid face, he was still alive and he had almost died right in his arm for the second time. Fuck this deviant, he deserved the bullet in the head he got from the backup.

 He had seen the two female androids from earlier pass by him, apologizing for not telling him earlier. One of them, the SR300 if he wasn’t mistaken, had almost been shot too, but it only grazed her instead. They had seemed to be adamant to join society as functional members, albeit deviant androids by default. They weren’t bad persons, he supposed, so it was only fair that they had survived the ordeal and had left that decrepit school straight out of Satan’s asshole.

That still didn’t make that shitty situation okay. He hadn’t been here for long and he knew that: at best half an hour, at worst a couple minutes, the time to want to punch something and throw coffee at Gavin for the tenth time in the week. It was pissing him off to dick around like that waiting for something to happen.

 “Lt. Anderson?” a voice called for him, unfamiliar and neutral all the same. Some random technician, he figured.

“Yeah?” he simply replied, before realizing it could be important. “Did the kid make it?” he proceeded to ask, a bit more concerned about the entire ordeal.

The small smile on the guy’s face betrayed the answer.

“He did indeed make it. You may visit his room now.”

 The lieutenant obviously followed. In all silence, yet sighing internally in relief because never again, he made his way in the room. Closing the door behind him and leaning against the wall, he looked at the unconscious (or so he assumed) man in the bed in front of him. A smirk crept up on his face.

“Never do that again, kid, got it?”

#bad things happen bingo #dbh #never believe me in me ever again #hank anderson #connor (dbh) #whump #gunshot #injury #i have to invent new tag smh #brotp: hang on son #bthb 1

[dr-imaginesnmatchups]

Angsty prompt : let's say that Mondo and the reader are childhood friends, they both love each other but they never confessed. During the killing game, when Mondo is declared to be the culprit, the reader has a breakdown, fall on their knees, cry to the point of almost choking, beg him not to go and confess their love

DR1 SPOILERS

Im so sorry to all the other requests but I couldn’t wait to write this one- this has so much angsti love it

“You’re certainly right! Mondo Oowada was the one who killed poor Chihiro Fujisaki!” The mechanical bear’s laugh echoed throughout the chamber, seeming to mock everyone who stood. Especially you. Was this even real! It couldn’t be. The Mondo you knew would have never done something so… cruel…

A strangled laugh made it’s way out of your throat, muffling your words, “H-he’s lying! Right Mondo?” A shaky smile spread across your face. The man across from you stood in complete silence, not looking up from the ground. “Mondo…? Why won’t you tell them he’s lying?” Your forced smile faltered, and your voice grew noticeably quieter. “Tell them… Please… I know you Monii, y-you don’t even have a secret bad enough to kill-” 

“F/N! Come check out what I found!” The bright faced boy had called out to you from the top of the flower-filled hill. The golden tint of the setting sun made the tall grass look as though it was glowing, and the sweet scent of tulips filled the air. You ran up the hill to where the fifth grader was hiding in the tall grass. “Shhhh, you don’t want to scare it!” He whispered as he pointed to a small, light brown bunny that sat several feet away from the two of you.

An excited gasp escaped your lips as you sunk down next to Mondo, not breaking eye contact with the animal. “Look how cute it is-” You gushed as it started to nibble at some of the grass. “I think we should name it.” A smile was spread across your face as you turned to face Mondo, who had stars in his eyes. 

“What should we call it?” He furrowed his brows slightly as he looked at your exited face.

“I’m gonna name it Monii,” 

“Monii?” 

“After your name silly,” You giggled a little bit as his face turned a light shade of red, “It’s the same color as your hair,” You said as you pointed to his head, which made you laugh just a little bit to loud. The bunny, Monii, perked up and scampered off, earning an annoyed groan from the both of you.

“Darn,” You huffed as you sat up from your hiding spot, staring where the bunny once was. You turned towards Mondo, who had a look of disappointment strewn across his face, “I think I’ll just call you Monii instead.”

It was that fateful day that would change his life forever, the day that would make Mondo into the “strong” man he was in the present. It was the day his brother was killed. When he came to your house to tell you what had happened, Mondo had broke down into tears.

It was the first time you had seen the happy go lucky boy completely lose himself. You noticed that something inside of him had changed that day, something switched in his mind. From that day forward, he forced himself to become cold, hard, emotionless. He was no longer the excited, sweet boy you once knew. But no matter what, you always would care for him, and you would always be there to support him. He was your best friend, and nothing would be able to change that.

“Monii?” You called out as you entered the house, your face was damp and your nose was stuffed from crying. You had just found out that your boyfriend of the past year had been cheating on you for the last three months of your relationship, and you needed condolence from your best friend.

You could hear heavy footsteps start to make their way downstairs, and soon a Mondo had made his way around the corner. “You doing better F/N?” He had his hands stuffed into his pockets, and his face was the same stoic expression that he had held ever since his brother’s death. Although he had become a little more expressive than he once was, he had also started to become angry more easily. 

Nodding, you ran over to him and pulled yourself into a hug, crying. 

“I swear to God F/N, I am going to pummel that bitch for doing this to you,” He growled as he hugged you back, “No one messes with my F/N.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the words of your best friend.

“Oh ho ho! You really must not know your little childhood friend then,” The monochrome robot chuckled, turning towards the silent biker. “Did you know that he killed his own brother?” 

“W-what?” You went silent for a moment, Mondo still hadn’t moved a muscle. “Why are you lying Monokuma, you don’t know him like I do you lying bastard-”

“It’s true.” 

Everyone in the room turned to look at the man who had spoke, his hands shook as he slowly looked up at you with watery eyes, “I told him to go faster,” His voice broke before he could finish the sentence, leaving you stunned. You knew he hadn’t meant to get Daiya killed, Mondo loved him more than anyone he knew. He was Mondo’s role model, the man he wanted to be. 

“Mondii,” You shook your head slowly as tears started to make their way down your face. You couldn’t even imagine all of the pain he had to carry over the past few years, blaming himself for his brothers death. “I-I’m so sorry, I wish I would have known earlier-”

“Enough with this soap opera crap! Let’s get on to the punishment!” Monokuma stood up from his seat, and wobbled his way over to Mondo. “I have a special execution set up for you today!”

Hopelessness surged surged through your body, and you jumped over your podium. “NO!” You cried out, running over to your childhood friend, “PLEASE,” Sobs had started to rack your body as you grabbed onto Mondo’s sleeve. “P-please let him live,” You choked out, grabbing him around his waist, as if it would hold him back. 

Everyone on the room was looking at you with pity in their eyes. Everything was silent except for your cries of desperation. 

“Why would you kill Chihiro?” Anger started to take over your body. This wouldn’t be happening if he hadn’t been so stupid. “WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO DUMB.” Hiccups would interrupt you, making it hard for you to breathe. “COULDN’T YOU SEE I FUCKING LOVED YOU?” 

You sunk to the ground, sobs being the only thing that was able to come out of your mouth. “I still love you.” 

A few tears had started to fall from Mondo’s eyes, but before he was able to speak, Monokuma interrupted him. 

“I said enough! Get on with it already!” 

Not even a second had passed until the metal chain had clasped itself around Mondo’s neck, dragging him to his death. 

A strangled scream escaped your lips. Your love, your friend, no, your best friend, was dying in this exact moment. And there was nothing you could do about it. 

#mod ibuki #mondo oowada #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa oneshots #dr oneshots #oneshot event #angst #danganronpa angst #dr1 #dr1 spoilers