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flowwochair · 4 months

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Doves and their Peculiar Taste (Aimevout) - Prologue

After much debate (and because apparently I have to wait to make an AO3 account????) I decided to post the prologue to the fic I have been working on here, depending on how long AO3 takes to release me from purgatory I might just go ahead and post the chapters I have so far on here too. NOTE: The fanfic starts with Aimée's engagement to Lannes and is meant to end with her wedding to Davout following her as she becomes disillusioned with Lannes and falls in love with Davout, who she meets by chance at an event hosted by her brother, the prologue is set before this. Although I tried to stick as much as possible to historical accuracy here there will most likely be bits that are not as accurate. I attempted to be as accurate as I could be to Aimée's initial engagement to Lannes and how things were going back then but I don't have a lot of specific info on that and the specific circumstances she was in and this fic is largely my own creative take on how the engagement was dissolved and how Davout and Aimée met. In reality, I don't even know if Davout and Aimée had met at all prior to their wedding, let alone have a soapy lovey dovey will they won't they slowburn romance develop between them. Likewise, I did my own take in characterization to some extent, I wrote the characters involved the way I see them/think of them, but some of them will change throughout the fic (notably Lannes, Davout, and Aimée). I apologize for any historical inaccuracies, like I said this is my own creative take about a very specific situation which I don't have a lot of insight on :((( . TLDR: there will probably be some historical inaccuracies here and there PLEASE dont be mean to me about it or I'm gonna cry and show up in your living room and throw up on your carpet, thank you. Anyways, enjoy.

Prologue – Scene 1

“An illegitimate child with another man?”

The words slapped Lannes back into consciousness as they left Bonaparte’s mouth.

“I find I should be concerned myself, my situation is not much better than yours, but, how do you feel?”

Lannes realized he had been venting to Napoleon without a second thought, and only then did the reality hit him. What now? Well, Napoleon was the best person to ask wasn’t he? “What now?” Lannes looked up at Bonaparte with a puzzled look, seeming almost as if half awake. “I guess I need a new wife”. Bonaparte could see his sorrow being converted into anger, typical for Lannes given his nature, “And have you thought of someone?” he asked, to which he earned a quick reply from Lannes’s increasing frustration “Fuck no.”

Bonaparte reclined on his chair, staring down at Lannes who sat on a camp bed, his back hunched, his eyes on the floor. “Lannes,” as Bonaparte called, he looked up, eyebrows still furrowed, “You’ve become a close friend to me… and what do we want in life if not to see our friends cared for?”. Lannes’s expression changed to one of confusion, “What? Do you have someone in mind?”, he didn’t like it when Napoleon was vague with him. “I have already sought connections for my sisters, they are cared for, however, they themselves have connections which aren’t.”

“Well honestly I’m not sure if I wanna think about women at all right now.” Lannes hastily got up as he spoke, grabbing his hat in the process and turning towards the tent’s opening, until Napoleon stood up and grabbed him by the arm, “God, listen to me won’t you” with a movement of his chin he gestured towards he chair he previously occupied, “Sit.”

“Fine”, Lannes sat “Hurry up.” “My sister, Pauline, is married to Charles Leclerc, you know him do you not?” “Yeah whatever I think so”, Lannes gestured vaguely. “Leclerc has unmarried sisters, one in particular who is at proper age, Louise-Aimée-Julie Leclerc.” “I never met this girl.” “I have heard and read snippets of her character here and there, she seems like a docile girl, well behaved, just a bit shy but perfect for marriage, especially as a rebound after something like this. Not to mention, by marrying her, you would be brought into my family through her connection to my sister. You would be cared for in being provided with a good loving wife, a wealthy familial connection to the Leclercs, and a connection to me.” He spoke more as if he were pitching a business deal than as if he were pitching a marriage.

Lannes still looked at him, but this time with some interest. It would seem the ‘sales’ pitch may have been successful at hooking him in. Access to wealth… a connection to Napoleon… a docile wife who would not give him a bastard child. “Huh… What does she look like?”.

“Brunette, brown eyes, small stature, she is quite petite.” Bonaparte replied, still in the tone of someone selling furniture. “Well you know how I am-“ “I do and I am hoping you would not take such a style with her.” Bonaparte replied sternly, “Her brother is quite protective of her Lannes, you should treat her as a crystal if anything.” “Sure… well, fine, let’s give it a shot.” Lannes said, standing up once again, this time with a much more interested expression. “Great.” Napoleon stood up as well, extending his hand towards Lannes, “I will propose the idea to Leclerc tomorrow, he has been looking for a suitor to his sister, surely he will be pleased.” Lannes shook his hand “Surely”, he said with a smirk.

Lannes, having put his hat back on, then left Napoleon’s tent, as Napoleon sought an aide to write a letter to Leclerc on his behalf.

Prologue – Scene 2 Egypt had been hell for everyone involved, by then the campaign was falling apart and if anyone knew this for certain it was its leader, Napoleon Bonaparte, his return to France was already in plans. One of the many men condemned to stay in the hellish uncaring desert was one Louis Nicolas Davout. In a situation not too dissimilar from that of Lannes, having recently divorced his wife for an incident of a similar nature, he was down on his luck, one of the few things which at the very least kept him alive was his friendship to one Louis Desaix. “Davout?”, Desaix whispered, entering Davout’s messy tent, a stained jacket sat in rough shape on a chair near his bed, where Davout himself was sitting, staring at his glasses, the left lens badly shattered.

“Still awake hm?” Desaix sat on the chair facing him, his eyes attempting to meet Davout’s downward gaze. “Mhm.” He didn’t speak much, he never did, even to his closest friends, but still Desaix could read him so well, and he knew Davout was tired, he had been for a while. Desaix gently took the pair of glasses from Davout’s hands, which made Davout look up at him, “I’ll get take these with me, and send you a brand new pair from France! Whaddya think?” Desaix smiled at him. Although his expression did not change, Desaix could tell Davout’s mood had lightened slightly at the interaction. “Have you thought about what I said to you?”, Desaix kept his eyes fixed on Davout, concentrating in reading his expression. Davout looked down again, making Desaix concerned. “I don’t see the point. I tried once, it did not go well, why should I try again? I doubt it would result in success, besides I don’t have much to offer, it would simply be a pointless transaction on both ends.” Davout answered in a matter-of-fact manner, he looked up at Desaix once more with a straight expression. “You just haven’t met the right girl yet, you’ll see”, Desaix had been insisting a similar plea to Davout for long now, it wasn’t the first time Davout had heard him say this. “I am to return soon… I could… I could sneak you, yes, in the ship back to France, and-“ “General Bonaparte would never-“ “I don’t care what he has to say! I’ll sneak you in, I’ll take you to France, maybe you’ll meet someone there! Maybe at least you’ll change your mind, I could-“ “Desaix.” At this point, Davout was looking at him with concern. Desaix realized he was failing at hiding his distress. “I’m sorry.” He realized he had lifted off the chair towards Davout when he was speaking, he sat back down. “I worry about leaving you alone, I really do.” He placed his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his knuckles. There was silence between them for a little while.

“I’ll be fine,” Davout spoke, as he did Desaix looked up at him, his smile slowly reappearing. “I suppose as long as I am alive I am fine”, Davout shrugged. “Surely”, Desaix chuckled. Hesitantly, he stood up. “Keep me informed Davout, we should meet as soon as you yourself return to France, which I am hoping will be soon.” “I’ll try to remember to write to you, but you should write to me when you get there.” Davout responded, Desaix laughed at his response much to Davout’s confusion. “I will, have a good night Davout, I hope you’ll be at the port before I leave.” “I am hoping you do not intend to-“ “I won’t sneak you into the ship I swear! I just want to say my goodbyes that’s all” Desaix spoke honestly. “I’ll be there.” In a rare sight, Davout smiled at Desaix. “See you.” Desaix gave Davout a pat on the shoulder before leaving his tent, still holding Davout’s glasses in his left hand. Not long after, Davout blew the only lit candle inside the tent, and tried his best to fall asleep.

Surely I’ll be fine.

#idk what's wrong with the line spacing and idk how to fix it xoxo #this is literally the first fic I ever wrote in my entire life please don't be mean to me #napoleonic era #napoleonic #napoleons marshals #louis nicolas davout #aimevout #aimée davout #aimée leclerc #jean lannes #napoleonic fan fic #fanfic

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dykevanny · 2 months

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Hehe I got more screenshots. Still finding it difficult to get Vanny and Vanessa in the same room unfortunately, for now that blurry screenshot is the best I can get. So! Interesting thing, the glitch filter multiplies so heavily on each Vanny that this is her jumpscare when you have multiple spawned. (I'm pretty sure her normal jumpscare is more red)

Here's a couple other screenshots while I spam a wall of text about this glitch

So basically the way I got this glitch in the first place was doing the atrium section, hopping over the security barriers to get out of bounds and grab the security badge from the prize counter, getting me security level 4 if I remember right.

Unfortunately there's not much else I can do from here besides go down the elevator and just use my security badge to skip the endo section.

(If you do this without getting the map bot jumpscare he won't spawn in and you get softlocked from entering the endo section ever again. Just a little side note.)

If I try to get the party pass early, timelord Moon insta-kills me. No escape. After doing the Freddy repair I can head up the elevator to Rockstar Row. (thankfully it's pretty simple, which is good because I need to repeat this glitch back from the beginning to make this work.)

From here I can do the glitch with or without getting the party pass. Vanessa acts very.. odd during this mess. I think some part of her AI realizes she's not supposed to be here. Last time she followed the Vannies to El chips before realizing and running off, never to be seen again. This time I led the Vannies to Rockstar Row so I figured Vanessa would stick around. Nope. She wandered around with her idle animation for a while before running off towards backstage, never to be seen again. They were in the same room for a while but I couldn't get a screenshot with both of them in the frame because of the view from cams.

Ironically I'm more afraid of Vanessa than I am of the Vanny swarm. Vanessa is half-giga honestly, like the monty in the daycare. She keeps going after you for a while and her pathing is really smart. For all I know she could pop up at any second. At least the vannies walk slow and are predictable lol.

Speaking of.. because it spawns in Vanny from the atrium (literally all I did to spawn them was walk in vaguely the direction of the escalator near fazerblast. For some reason this time it spawned in 3 at a time, last few times I did this glitch it was 4 at a time. Idk what I did differently.) Anyway back to the topic. Atrium Vanny has a constant tracker on you, but she can only walk. She can't do the horrifying t pose and run that lost and found Vanny does. (Highly recommend getting a save for that point in the game. Her AI is fun to mess around with.) She'll constantly chase you unless you do one of two things (with pretty intelligent pathing most of the time too.) If you use Freddy as a door, like I did. Or if you walk on an elevated surface she can't jump to, for example the boxes near the vent in Freddy's room. Doing this is really interesting actually. If you get her stuck behind a door she can't access (Freddoor or the door to El chips, since you need to crouch to get in.) She just keeps skipping to your location. But if you jump on a platform they all freeze in place, doing their idle animation but it's basically walking in place. It's very hivemind behavior lol, that's how I get the majority of these screenshots.

It's really interesting to me and I'm definitely gonna keep messing with it lol. Hope this ramble was more entertaining than a boring wall of text, this glitch is really fun to experiment with, if you'd want to hear/see more about it I'd totally be up to share more screenshots the more I experiment with this glitch :)

Oh my god i am obsessed. Overpowered vanessa (who can Find you) just going oh shit . Wait I’m not supposed to be here. What the fuck why are there 500 of me. And just sprinting from the room is so fucking funny…… and then she is never seen again omg.

Also TIMELORD MOON LMAO…

Ur not boring at all this is quite fascinating. The vannies skipping around in a single file line is fantastic. Also yeah vanny jumpscare is usually a lot more red oh no…her LED eyes ran out of battery:(

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taylorswiftstylequestions · 2 years

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Hi Sarah! THIS IS LONG I’M SO SORRY! I hope I can vent a little here—I feel like explaining this to anyone irl would take a ton of contextualizing (and honestly I feel…very silly for being upset about it?) I recently joined a Swiftie group (which I won't name, not trying to put anyone on blast) that I was super excited about, since I knew I’d have a lot of overlapping interests with the people there (cont.)

I was looking through some of the posts and found one where a lot of people where pretty upset about the recent lavender haze situation (I won’t go into detail since I know you’re avoiding spoilers, but I remember you indicated previously that you generally know what’s going on). To be clear, I am absolutely not opposed to being critical of Taylor. But it felt really weird seeing people voice criticisms I share right next to criticisms I am fundamentally not on board with. (cont.) It felt like some of my more negative opinions regarding Taylor were reinforced, but then taken WAY further than I’d take them. (e.g. do I sometimes have the thought of “babes, you have multiple mansions and a private jet and you do NOT need any more of our money?” Sure. I could say the same for literally any celebrity at her level. But do I think she’s being intentionally manipulative to her queer fans in a way that’s vaguely sinister? As a queer fan myself, no.) (cont.) I also find conspiracy-level speculation into her personal life very uncomfortable (e.g. you’ve immediately lost me the second you suggest that her current relationship is fake). I didn’t even post on this thread, I just read through it and suddenly felt and extreme sense of burnout and it…kind of ruined my day? And then I was like OH MY GOD am I in way too deep with this fandom that something like that COULD ruin my day? (cont. again I'M SO SORRY) (Last one I promise!!) I’m just upset because I have been so excited for Midnights and was having so much fun with the TSS relistening party, and today I haven’t even been able to listen to Red :( And also very disappointed because I had been looking forward to engaging with this group I joined, and I now have it muted. Anyways, being a fan of anything is supposed to be FUN and not draining, and I hope I can get back in that headspace by the time Midnights comes out! Hi Sarah! I just sent in rather a long vent—and wanted to close by thanking you for making the! Best! Corner! Of this fandom! This page has never once left me feeling drained, and that is all thanks to your efforts in setting boundaries and prioritizing critical kindness. If I’m gonna engage with any group during release week, it’s this one 💚

---

Here's the thing. I think we all know the age old lesson of "You can't control how other people feel about things, you can only control how you handle your feelings in reaction to other people" etc etc. But as with many many things in life - it's more nuanced and complicated than that, isn't it?

I think the point here is not that your day felt ruined by something and then you felt embarrassed(?) for feeling like something as silly (#lovingly) as the TS fandom could have that much power over your life so as to ruin your day. BUT WHAT WE SHOULD FOCUS ON is not the day ruining.

What we should focus on is you had the presence and awareness of self to actively make choices that would make your day and your life and your overall mental place better. You muted and stepped back from a mood that was killing your vibe. You got the weight out of your body and your mind by ranting to a friend. You're refocusing your energy to think about things that make you feel light and happy and do bring you joy. THAT IS WHAT YOU FOCUS ON!! Not that for one moment you felt drained or sad. But that you made the active choice and had the wherewithal enough to say, "I feel this way. But I know that I don't deserve to feel this way. I am choosing better things for myself."

And that is beautiful, friend. And you should feel really proud of you. 💚

With that, IT'S OFFICIALLY RELEASE WEEK BABY BUNNIES!!!!!!!!!!! GET HYPED.

#tsser

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jeymoi · 10 months

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reaaalllyy hoping i finish all these sketches/doodles some day soon because i am very satisfied with them and want to see them complete lmmaaoo — we will see though because art fight is once again taking over my life and all my energy. but for now, you get sneak peeks of my most perfect imperfections (aka, they don’t look quite right but i’m still happy i got them started).

CW: venting/emotional (?)

ANYYYWWAAYYY — my quick tumblr diary vent entry is just gonna be me appreciating my best friend and picking apart my brain✌️🥹.

for the most part, life is kind of kicking my ass and everyday feels suffocating, but for once in my life, i genuinely have someone who i can comfortably open up to. it’s a weird feeling? being vulnerable in a healthy way? in a way, i think parts of my brain is trying to reject the idea that i can fully trust and ask for support from someone. i’m really not that sure why my walls have come down like this so quickly in a sense?? but i’m really grateful for each and every day that i am able to spend with them. there is nothing i could do to ever repay how much they’ve done for me. this has been the most growth i feel within my own character and emotional well-being. though of course there are many important people in my life, i’ve learned so much from just one person about so many different things and so many ways to think positively, accept myself, and to look for the things in life that may be fulfilling. i’m relearning to take care of myself more and to try to prioritize my well being. though life-long habits will die hard, the comfort of knowing someone cares enough to be patient while im growing hits me like a brick. as a chronic cry baby, i’m relearning that it’s okay to cry in front of people and that being sensitive doesn’t mean i’m weak.

the other day, i told my best friend my deepest secret after an especially rough night. i cried so fucking much that day. it’s terrifying to tell someone something you’ve been closely guarding almost all your life. it’s terrifying when the last person you showed vulnerability to in the same way told you to just find a way to deal with it and to never talk about your struggles again. it’s terrifying to give your all to people who tell you that you mean so much to them only to realize too late that you don’t actually mean as much to them. in every sense of my being, this fear still racks at my brain, though i think i’ve accepted it as my fate, my role and purpose. now, though it feels like a weight lifted from my heart, i find it terrifying to feel like i matter to someone just as much as they to me.

the intrusive thoughts in my mind warn me that i’m making mistakes. they tell me that i should run away, that i should put back up the fucking walls because they’ll keep me safe. but some part of me wants to trust again. i want to keep indulging in being able to rely on someone who doesn’t judge my very being. the guilt eats me alive each time but they reassure me that no boundaries are being crossed. though, even if i’m blinded by hopefulness and my experiences run parallel to that of the past, i will never resent everything i’ve learned and the validity i received.

as fucked up as i am of a human being, i truly hope in this world that everyone is able to find someone for them even half as lovely and genuine as my best friend. even if just for a little bit, i want to keep trusting in his words.

(if you happened to have read through the entirety of my vague-ass brain dump, thank you very much 🤭<3 i dont think much of it makes sense as it is past three am and i have had so very little sleep the last couple if weeks, but i wanted this here for myself hehehe — hopefully it had some sort of entertainment factor if you were bored enough to read it !! anyways, now that i’ve gotten this off my chest, time to try to fix my sleep schedule once more.)

#angst art #vent art #sketch #doodles #dnd oc #art dump

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slothrusts · 9 months

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hi sorry childhood trauma under the cut just gotta vent for a sec!

historically my mom has just completely avoided ever even vaguely mentioning or referencing the David Times™️ (when we were still living w bio dad) and for a lot of the super serious shit my brother was too young to remember so I’ve kind of been feeling like a lone survivor without any evidence to back me up and it just makes you feel a bit crazy!!

I’ll be telling stories to my therapist and I’m like did that really happen though? I don’t know ! Am I just making stuff up? I don’t know! I can’t tell! I don’t think I am! But it has never been discussed anywhere else with anyone else so it’s really hard to tell!

Anyway this weekend my mom randomly decided to break her silence I guess (though I did kind of press her) because they were talking about the rising crime rates in the city (🙄 they watch Fox News) and I was like hey mom didn’t we literally live on East colfax in a motel when we first moved here? And she didn’t respond at first but I was like no I will have a confirmation on this god dammit so I asked again and she finally said yes! And like actually where!!! And my dad (stepdad, very nice guy tho) was like holy shit y’all lived there??? That’s the worst place in the city! And my mom had a little dam breaking moment and spilled a lot of stuff that I was like I KNEW THAT HAPPENED but just had never heard anyone else talk about and it was actually really nice to have it validated by another source? I mean my mom isn’t a great source she’s also a mess but like just having another human being be like yes I was there and it did indeed happen was so so so validating.

Like yes David was using drugs intravenously instead of watching us kids! Yes my mom was the only one who could work and had to leave us there so she could at least afford to keep us somewhere that had a roof! Yes at the age of 5 I was responsible for taking care of my infant brother when David was high (though sometimes the sex workers helped look out for us when they weren’t also dealing w their own shit, they were very kind)! Yes I had to eat so much god damn puffed wheat cereal from the food bank! God that shit is nasty. And yes my mom left David cause he would beat the shit out of all of us and she remembered growing up w her dad doing that to her mom and she was like “ok well I’m not going to be the best mother ever but I can at least be better than my parents in this way”

This must be how scientists feel when their hypothesis is proven correct or something lol

#I’m like #VALIDATION #from the place you’d least likely expect ir #it #my mother #lmao #sus #tw drugs #tw child trauma #tw child neglect

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lostinthewiind · 3 years

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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 3

Next →Part 5

Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.

You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.

Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.

“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”

“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.

Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”

Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”

“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”

You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”

Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”

“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”

Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”

You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.

Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”

“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”

Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”

“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward.

“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.

The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”

You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you.

“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”

“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy.

“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”

“Right.” You nodded.

While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair.

Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.

“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”

Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”

“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”

“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”

You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”

Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”

“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”

Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park.

“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat.

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”

“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”

Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.

Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”

You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”

Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”

You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”

Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”

“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”

“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”

“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”

“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”

“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”

Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”

“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”

Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”

“Sneaky?”

“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”

“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”

The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed.

“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”

You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”

Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”

Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different.

“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.

You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”

“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”

“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”

Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”

“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret.

Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses.

“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish.

“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him.

Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”

“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.

A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.

If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #ukai #ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #keishin #mature #haikyuu smut #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #part 4 #song fic

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cinnamonest · 3 years

Note

All modern genshin boys use 4chan. Except Zhongli ofc

Zhongli uses Facebook and gets caps lock stuck on and can't figure out how to turn it off 😔

They do all use 4chan BUT ALSO you know what I have thoughts on this and I'm subjecting you all to them:

Childe and Venti use Instagram a lot. Venti attention whores on Instagram. All the time. Like posts a selfie with irrelevant comments vaguely implying he had a bad day or something is wrong, but when people ask what he's just like "no no it's nothing" and only finally tells once he has a sufficient amount of attention.

Childe overshares. He's the dude that feels the need to broadcast every moment of his life on insta. Like my dude no one cares. Also abuses Snapchat. So many black screen rants. Updates his story 5 times a day. And it's all whining about having no gf and thus his life is sad.

Xingqiu uses Twitter and he gets into Twitter discourse on a daily basis. Like. Literally the instant there's drama of any kind he's all over it even if it's in a community he has never interacted with before. Enjoys Twitter fights for the sake of it.

Chongyun also uses Twitter but it's the opposite, he's so nice. All he ever does is leave nice comments on people's art and selfies. Also 100% simps for some Twitter egirls. Whites knights for them too. Angel.

Bennett honestly sticks to the mindless entertainment that is TikTok, and has friends on discord. He keeps away from most socials. The last 3 times he joined a social media site someone hacked his accounts.

Diluc uses Reddit no I do not accept criticism. He trauma dumps unintentionally onto random threads. Like "oh yeah my dad liked that game before he died brutally" then continues on as if he didn't just dump that information all over the internet. Shares way too much personal information in general, if anyone he knows irl ever finds his account he's screwed bc you could easily pin it to him by how much information he doesn't hesitate to give out. Is subbed to the standard subs and many many gonewild subs. It cures his loneli™

Albedo also uses Reddit and is literally. The most obnoxious. Bastard. He's one of the pretentious redditors. Have you ever used reddit and left a single short comment with an opinion or idea, or maybe a statement that was not 100% right, and someone responds with a 5 point essay on why you're not only wrong but a complete ignorant buffoon? And it's not even on something important it's like "what brand of this is best" or some bullshit? That's him. Unironically pulls "to be fair you have to have a high IQ to understand Rick and Morty"

Xiao still uses Tumblr. He uses it a lot less now bc he was originally on it for porn. He makes the posts that are just "." But then vents in the tags but like, he makes those posts on an everyday basis when he's sad at 3 am then deletes them the next morning. He's also on 4chan a lot.

Scara uses 4chan the most. Active /pol/ user. Actively takes joy in being as much of an asshole as possible. Takes joy in the suffering of others bc it makes him feel better about his own life.

Xiao is the one posting the greentext stories with the > format, telling of his daily failings. Scara is the guy that leaves super negative comments and has absolutely nothing constructive to say. They have absolutely interacted on multiple occasions. Xiao laments about how he tried and failed to speak more than 2 words to this cute cashier that works at the place he goes to every day (complete with depressed wojak for thread image) and of course Scara is there to be like "ahaha you fucking pussy" when he's literally just as much of an incel shut-in as he is

There's also some dude on the same incel-y threads as them. Lamenting that he's not like the rest of you losers, no he's pretty and tall, but something about his personality drives the foids away?? Why must he suffer so. He shouldn't even be here he says, he's not the type of loser that uses 4chan, but he overshares and regrets it whenever he goes on anything else, blah blah. Scara and Xiao both kinda bully the poor bastard bc how dare he be tall. Anyway, yes Kaeya is a 4chan user

#i have a vendetta against pretentious redditors #lena's asks #q

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fabricated-misslieness · 3 years

Note

Hey, can you do a Dazai x Port Mafia Executive Male Reader. Where reader is Dazai former partner before he gets replace by Chuuya and instead of Chuuya coming for Q and fighting Lovecraft its reader instead. Readers ability is like Shigaraki from bnha.

Dazai Osamu x sadistic!male reader

Ngl I was a little confused cause the last time I watched bsd was months ago.

Also made the reader sadistic because yes. i forgot the reason

Part 2

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 3859

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (Dazai stuff ofc), angsty boi

“You want me to pair up with this rookie?” You gesture in the vague direction of Dazai. You know he’s there, but you don’t act like it.

Dazai huffs, offended by your words. He crosses his arms. You weren’t giving him the best impression and if you were going to be partners, he at least had to tolerate you enough to keep his head on his shoulders.

“Now, now,” Mori chides with a sweet tone. You don’t trust the guy, he may act kind, but you’re sure he hides something with that kindness. “He’s already a port mafia executive.” You roll your eyes, he was only one of them because he witnessed the old boss handing down his title ‘willingly’. You seriously doubted he did do it willingly, seeing as it was a mere few minutes before his death. That sort of coincidence belongs to a movie.

“Like I don’t know that.” You shake your head. “Fine, fine, I’ll be his partner. I only want to know what he can do. He has an ability, doesn’t he?”

You finally acknowledge his presence, turning to him and sizing him up. Dazai is flustered by the gesture, but he pretends to act calm and collected, something that works with that young poker face of his.

“Yes--” Mori is interrupted by the executive himself, who is eager to show off.

“Yes, I do.” Dazai replies, uncrossing his arms. “But what’s yours?”

You furrow your eyebrows. Abilities are wide and unique, ranging from psychological to physical to straight magic. Knowing your ability could be a part of his ability. You were to work together so he’d know either way, but at the moment, you wanted to know his weaknesses.

“That’s valuable information.” You crack your knuckles and stretch, pretending to prepare for a fight.

“No fighting in my office.” Mori reminds you. “Or the building, for that matter. One of your abilities is particularly destructive, and we don’t know what you could do. Go to the training area if you’re going to fight.”

You give both of them a smirk, “Who says I was going to fight? I was merely enjoying the look in Dazai’s eye.”

Dazai frowned, quickly fixing his composure. It’s true, he was a little intimidated and he did not mean to let it show.

“You’re quite sadistic, aren’t you?” Mori chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s one thing right about me, boss.” You smile brightly. Dazai furrows his eyebrows and examines you. That smile of yours is sickeningly sweet, almost mocking. You look like a monster, but maybe that was part of your act. He’d know your ability in no time.

“Well, as partners you do have to know each other’s abilities. I picked Dazai specifically for you.” That gave each of them a hint to each other’s abilities, more to Dazai than anything.

You nod letting out a sigh, “Do you have anything you don’t want, Mori?”

Dazai quirks an eyebrow, interested in the peculiar question. Mori nods, nudging forward a tongue depressor, those big wooden popsicle sticks, one he could very well spare.

You pick up with all but one finger, your middle finger, holding it up for both of them to see. “Do you have anything for the debris?” Mori slides a metal tray towards the edge of the table.

“Pay close attention, Dazai.” You give him a glance before looking back at the stick, putting your final finger on it. It disintegrates in a matter of seconds, turning into pieces so small that they look like ash. “What’s yours?” You turn to him.

Dazai seems to shrink under your gaze, but he keeps a stoic look. “Put your hand on my arm.” You raise an eyebrow. Does he wish to experiment with your ability or is it part of his?

You put your hand on his arm, once again with all but one finger. You don’t trust him, that much is clear.

“Trust me.” The look he gives you is genuine, albeit the smile is devilish, though you oblige all the same.

Your eyebrows furrow when your ability has no effect. The skin doesn’t disintegrate, nor does it fall apart as usual. “That is my ability, No Longer Human.”

“And that is why I paired you two up.”

You huff a little angrily once you realize. His ability stops other abilities, what triggered it you didn’t know, but that wasn’t the most important thing for you. He paired you two up to have him be your control. You don’t need anyone to control you and you don’t want anyone to control you. You want to do you and you do not want this boy to hold you back.

You open your mouth to protest but Mori interrupts you. “This is my decision and mine alone, you cannot say otherwise.” As much as you want to mess up his pretty face, you couldn’t disobey the boss.

“Fine.”

As time grew on, Dazai had become a friend, though sometimes he felt like more than a friend. Despite your early refusal to the idea, you’d really warmed up to each other.

Dazai, the young bastard, was also quite the prick at times. Though you couldn’t really complain about his age since it turns out you’re within the same age range. While he was a prick, he was also caring, as you’d come to learn.

Sometimes he’d hold your forearm when you were touching something, even though over the years you’d built up the habit to not use your middle finger. Every time he did so you would laugh and it would somewhat fluster you, you’d tell him you didn’t need it and without fail he would say “Just in case.” It was nice to know he cared, and the other little gestures he would perform were even nicer.

You were known for being a little sadistic, taking joy from inflicting pain for no reason. When he’d hold you back from attacking some random lackey at the time it would make you angry, but a few minutes later you’d be grateful for it. After all, that lackey wouldn’t be very useful with an injury.

Though sometimes even he couldn’t hold you back. When you’d start a fight with another executive just for your enjoyment, he was quick to be there and keep you in touch. Perhaps you did need control after all.

The other executives were rather thankful for Dazai, as you chose someone to pick on every week. Something you hated about Dazai was that he was immune to your mockery. He got used to it from your partnership and he couldn’t be hurt by your ability. But you supposed it was for the better, the other executives were starting to get really annoyed by you.

Except everything changed when Nakahara came along.

Although your partnership was relatively new, you found comfort in each other’s companies. You protected each other’s weaknesses and complemented each other’s strengths; so when the news came along that Chūya would replace you as Dazai’s partner, both of you were a little ticked off, per say.

Dazai’s first impression on the newer rookie didn’t help their relationship. Chūya annoyed him to the very ends of the Earth and he did not want him to replace you. It wasn’t just Chūya either, he’d grown very fond of you. Sometimes he couldn’t even fight without you; He was used to you being there to back him up, though this detail he would not tell you.

In time, you didn’t look like the monster he’d thought you were in his first impression of you. You actually looked sweet.

Your smile, which for everybody else would be sadistic, turned out to look more endearing to him. Everybody caught onto the fact that the smiles you’d directed at him weren’t the smiles he’d show others. Somehow you hadn’t realized it, but he had.

You’d grown to like him, dare say crush on him, which was something you denied. His triumphant smile after the end of a mission and the jokes he’d make as you fought were always the highlight of your day.

None of you wanted to give up the other.

“This is his decision and his alone, we cannot say otherwise.” You mocked, making Dazai snicker. The fact he used the same words was quite ironic, really.

Tomorrow marked Chūya and his first mission together, so you’d dedicated this day to each other. Dazai did not look forward to tomorrow, and as much as he wanted to vent to you about Chūya’s very abundant annoying qualities, you’d both promised not to talk about it.

The news of your separation had made both of you realize your growing crushes for each other. You were no longer in denial, though you loathed the idea… but when you really thought about it, you didn’t loathe the idea. Musing to yourself about hugging him, playing with his hair… thinking about the fact that you did in fact like it made you gag.

As the night neared to an end, your guts told you to tell him. You wouldn’t see each other all that often anyway and if you were never to interact much, at least you would be getting this off your chest.

“Dazai.” You both stared out the window of the HQ, prior to you speaking up you were in an awkward silence. None of you wanted to say goodbye.

He turned to you and you to him. As much as you wanted to avoid eye contact, you thought it might help. “I like you… don’t joke with me.”

Dazai was going to make a joke. It was amazing how much you got to know him in so little time. He smiled, and your hopes raised when you took notice of how it wasn’t pitiful. “I like you too.”

You immediately let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Where’s the big sadistic lion?” Dazai questions, playfully mocking how meek you are right now. His smile seems more joyful than usual, as it should with what just happened.

You snicker, giving him the sadistic smile he’s used to. “I’m right here.”

Dazai was your anchor in the Port Mafia, even when he plead for double suicide with you. Before you were partnered up, you absolutely despised the place. The other executives and the occasional lackeys were fun to provoke but it was almost as if that was your coping mechanism. You often complained about how awful the Mafia was handled with the previous boss, but he would never change anything. He was an idiot up until his very death.

You thought Mori’s recent ‘crowning’ would change your opinion, but it didn’t change it at all. You still hated the place. It was almost as if their only objective was to keep their hands on Yokohama. You wanted more than that, you wanted the whole of Japan to be your turf.

Mori didn’t want that and while he would take the opportunity once presented, he wouldn’t do a thing otherwise. He was perfectly happy with that and you weren’t.

Dazai was the only reason you stayed, but now the reason had been diminishing. You barely spoke and barely hung out. This wasn’t what ‘dating’ was and both of you knew it.

He wanted to try harder and so did you, but with your current situation, you couldn’t. When he wasn’t with Chūya, you were out on a mission. No, you weren’t jealous. This wasn’t Chūya’s fault nor was it something either of you could control. There were various times you debated on breaking up.

Dazai was the only thing holding you back from leaving, so if you broke up you didn’t have to worry about him. But you liked him and both of you would be heartbroken. You never liked thinking about it, but someday, it had to be addressed. That day never came.

The final day you were with the Port Mafia was the day that you had a brush with death.

You’d called for backup, you’d received none. The henchmen you were commanding left like cowards. To think these were the people you’d trained.

One of your big weaknesses was fighting groups of people alone. These henchmen knew that and they’d run. Where were their morals? Where was their faith, their loyalty? Where was their honor, their pride? It was then that you’d learned the Port Mafia wasn’t your place. These people weren’t your people, this turf wasn’t your turf. They were cowards and you were no coward.

Alone and fighting recklessly, you were down. You refused to flee, and that stubbornness was what caused you to nearly die. Luckily, you never crossed death’s doorstep. The people you were fighting presumed you dead the moment you dropped to the ground.

They were fools but a fool you were too to let your emotions get the best of you.

That day somebody had found you on the brisk of death. They claimed to be a spy and they offered to get you help.

Of course, you accept without asking for conditions. You were dying, what else could you have said? The conditions turned out to be joining his organization and feeding them with information or something equally as important.

No longer would you be associated with the Port Mafia. You were glad to leave them. But your only consequence being leaving behind Dazai, the love of your life and the highlight of the day. It was a hard decision to make that was for sure, but it was either this or death.

You felt selfish.

Months after joining them, the so-called ‘Guild’, your heart ached. Leaving Dazai was your biggest mistake but joining the Guild was the best thing that had happened to you since him. For the longest time, you’d wanted to tell him. You never had the guts to. And then you left Japan to join the bigger part of the guild in North America.

In time you’d stopped thinking about Dazai.

The crew was polite, a contrast from the cold lackeys and executives from the Port Mafia. It’s a nice change, one you wish won’t ever change. But maybe the hope of a different life blinds you from how bad these people really are, their underlying motives and morals, their similarities to the Port Mafia executives.

The guild is ambitious, their leader most of all. They have a turf and the turf is way bigger than the Port Mafia’s, something you’re proud about. You certainly feel better about this place than the Port Mafia.

Your sadistic personality never changes either, and while the others are certainly annoyed by it, they handle it in a different way. They make sure you know that you can’t hurt them severely, or there’ll be repercussions. Maybe not repercussions from the Guild’s rules, but them hurting you back. It’s a nice change, one that gets your adrenaline pumping every time you pick a fight.

The only time you did think of him was in your nightmares, the middle of the night. Those nightmares consisted of him calling you a traitor, betrayer, but that wasn’t what hurt you. They played out scenarios of you telling Dazai.

He’d kiss you, hold you tight, ask you where you’d been, question the new stitches and scars… and then you’d tell him.

His face would be ridden with denial. “No. No you couldn’t have! You’re joking, you’re lying!” He laughs, tries to believe it’s a joke, but he can’t get it out of his head that it isn’t.

“It’s not.”

It’s then that he lets out a sob. He trembles, pushes you away from him, looks you in the eye with a look full of betrayal. It’s then that he calls you names, which stated before aren’t what hurts you. It’s how he looks and what he says next that hurts the most, “I thought you loved me.”

That’s when the nightmare ends. You wake up with tears of your own, they’re hot and sting on your cheeks. You furiously wipe them away, but more keep coming.

You sob loudly, which wakes up John and Lucy. They’re the only ones you’ve trusted with your secret, Dazai. They comfort you the best they can but the most they can do is tell you it’s going to be okay or something along those lines. As much as you try to believe them, you can’t.

Dazai becomes a mere figure of your past. You think of him as unreachable, unattainable, as something you should scold yourself for thinking about.

If you could’ve taken him with you, you would’ve.

Learning that you will go back to Japan because of the leader’s obsession with a ‘tiger’ almost breaks you like your ability would.

You hadn’t thought about Dazai nightmares in the past year, but now you remember him again. You begin to regret leaving him, your heart aches again and your nightmares act up again. Everything gets worse when you arrive in Japan.

War breaks out between 3 organizations but the only thing you can think of is the Port Mafia. It’d been 6 years. Could he still remember you?

You don’t care who wins, you just want this whole thing to be over with. It upsets your ‘teammates’, but you don’t care. Once again, you think about leaving the organization, maybe live a normal life. That sort of life feels far-fetched right now and you know it’s something you’ll never have the chance to achieve. But still, you hope for it.

But then you see him again.

The second your eyes land on him you want to run. His eyes land on you and they must look the same as yours.

It hurts, but you have to persevere. “Hey, Lovecraft?” You glance at the man with the strange ability and appearance. “You want to go sleep, right?” You let out a mocking yawn of your own, giving the two in front of you your signature sickly smile.

“Yes.” Lovecraft replies, voice monotone and deep as always.

“Go get John and leave, get to sleep faster.” You nod in the direction you’d seen Chūya knock John towards. Your eyes stayed on the two in front of you. They both act as if they’d never seen you before, which you’re glad for. You don’t know if you could’ve handled seeing the same look Dazai would give you in your nightmares.

“But Francis and... you.” You’d like to think you’d gotten close to Lovecraft, but really he treated everybody the same because of his ‘contract’ with Francis.

“I’ll be fine. I know these guys’ weaknesses, anyway.” He doesn’t question how you do nor does he protest further and leaves immediately. “Quite the reunion, huh?”

“(y/n)..” Chūya growls. He glares at you, something you’d never seen 6 years ago as his senior executive. He never dared to interact with you. He knew he’d be replacing you as Dazai’s partner and knew about your relationship together. If anything, it was out of pity, and that you hated.

“Chūya.” You reply. “How’s the family, the mafia, the kids?” You mock. Chūya all but seethes, he looks like he’s ready to strike.

“(y/n),” Once Lovecraft is gone, Dazai gives you the look you dreaded to see. “H-How--” He doesn’t know what to say and neither do you. Your smile fades, turns into a frown. You don’t want to fight him but you also don’t want him to take on Lovecraft. As much as you liked the guy, he was a nightmare incarnate.

“Dazai.” Is all that you say. The vague response hurts you both.

“Chūya you might want to do that here.”

Chūya looks back at Dazai, shocked and taken aback. “You want me to do that? Dazai, I don’t think that’s needed and you know how shit that makes me feel.” It’s clear he doesn’t want to give into his corruption.

“You shouldn’t underestimate him.” Dazai speaks with experience, and it hurts you to know that he knows that.

“Don’t hurt him too much, we’re dating.”

“You’re still dating?!”

“Technically we never broke up!”

You laugh, staring at the limp body next to you. Chūya is deep asleep, or knocked out, you don’t know. You never really saw the aftermath of his corruption.

“That was a nice fight.” You remark, loud enough for Dazai to hear despite how weak you feel. Chūya had basically broken both your legs and injured you, but at least he hadn’t killed you or put you into a coma. The pain was unbearable for most people, but it was a simple background thought for you.

“It’s been…” Dazai starts.

“6 years.” You finish for him.

“I missed you.” You’re glad to hear that instead of the words from your nightmares, but you’re sure those words will eventually come.

“I did too.”

“You did?”

You sigh, nodding. “There were plenty of errands I had to run around and do for Francis. That rich old guy didn’t do anything himself. I didn’t think much of you, but I never forgot you. I had my own fair share of nightmares about you, they’re all the same.”

Dazai moves you to lean against the bark of a tree. You look into each other’s eyes, and you can tell that his are pleading. “Please stay.”

You ignore his remark, weakly reaching over to feel his coat. “New coat?”

“Yes.” Dazai grumbles, sitting down next to you cross legged. “Answer me.” He pleads again.

“You don’t want to know why I left, first?” Dazai shakes his head, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, prompting a pained groan from you. He quickly apologizes for it.

“I don’t know if I can.” You sigh, rubbing the back of his hand. You were quite touch starved, seeing as you couldn't really hold or touch anything properly. “If Francis wins I’d have to stay with him. If either of you win, I’ll most likely end up in prison.”

“Join me.”

You think back to the Guild. They were inviting and you thought them to be good, but just then did you think about how bad they really were. You’d known all along but you always refused to believe it. You wanted to be there just to escape the Mafia, you never wanted to be there because it was the guild.

“What was it… the Armed Detective Agency?” He nods. “How would that stop me from going to prison?”

“I don’t know.” Dazai admits with a huff. “Just.. please stay.”

“Okay.” You smile at him. Dazai remembers that smile, it’s burned into his memory and he takes note of how it hasn’t changed a bit. He’s missed it ever since you left. “Would they accept me, though?”

“They will, they will.” He says it as if he were determined, but he knows there’s a high chance they’ll refuse.

Dazai pulls you into a much deserved kiss. Long, gentle, sweet, and full of fireworks, it’s almost like your first. The only thing is it’s a little weak on your end, but he can’t blame you.

“Not going to mention sucide?”

“I haven’t seen you in 6 years, at least let me cherish this for another 2 months.”

#anonymousrequest #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x male reader #dazai x reader #dazai x male reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x male reader #bsd x male reader #angst fic #bsd angst

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littlemissreadstoomuch · 3 years

Text

Wait, Since When is Peter Scary?

Based on a post by @spindler-spider thank you so much for letting me write it!

The Avengers had just gotten back from a mission when they found Peter hanging upside down from the ceiling, glaring at a corkboard in front of him. It was covered in pictures of his classmates and red yarn, all connected by blue pushpins.

Tony looked at him for two seconds before deciding, “I’m not even going to ask.” He then went back into the elevator to go down to the lab.

“Ok, I’ll ask,” Clint said as he launched himself over the back of the couch, “Whatchya doing, Spidey?”

Peter didn’t even look back at him, “I’m trying to figure out how to get back at Flash, he pulled a prank on me in chemistry the other day and I need revenge.”

Steve shook his head, “Revenge is never the answer, Pete. Maybe you should talk it out with him, try to make amends.”

Peter snorted, “Yeah, ok Cap. I’ll do that.”

The Captain seemed happy enough with that response because he nodded and walked off to his art studio, not noticing his teammates’ snickering.

“Ok, but seriously,” Said the teen, “What should I do?”

“You need us to scare him off for you?” Natasha asked, only half-joking.

Peter shook his head, “No, I can do that on my own-” Sam barked a laugh and he turned to glare at him, “Do you have a problem?”

Sam continued laughing, “S-sorry Pete, but you’re about as scary as a kicked puppy!” Clint and Bucky started laughing too, even Natasha was hiding a smile behind her fist.

“What? No, I’m not!” Peter defended, jumping down from the ceiling, “I’m one of the most feared vigilantes in New York!” Sam, Bucky, and Clint just started laughing harder, “You’ve never seen me in action, have you? Criminals have asked me to arrest them. Some even run away screaming like little girls the second they knew I was there.”

Natasha gave him a condescending look, “Of course, Peter, we believe you.”

Peter scoffed, “No you don’t,” then he smirked as he came up with an idea, “But you will.”

The four heroes only snorted as the teen left the room. As if the nicest kid in the world could be scary.

They have never been more wrong.

🕸 🕷 🕸

That weekend, the tower was empty. The team just assumed Pepper had given them a night off, but that wasn’t the case. The night before, Peter had told everyone not to go to work because he was going to pull a prank on the Avengers, and since they all know what happened during the last prank (long story), they agreed.

All throughout the day, Peter shifted through each Avenger and gave vague threats until the sun went down. No one thought anything of it at first, it was just Peter being...well, Peter. But then, one by one, Peter picked them out, starting with Steve, Clint, and Natasha.

They were on their way to the gym for a training session when they heard movement in the vents.

“Come out, come out, little spider,” Clint said, looking up at the ceiling, “We know you’re here.”

There was a loud BANG at the end of the hall, the lights flickering like a scene straight from a horror movie.

Natasha scoffed, “You think a few flickering lights will scare us off, Kid? You’re mistaken.”

Steve looked around the hall, “What the…?”

Suddenly, the hallway went dark, all except for one light at the very end, where a dark humanoid figure with red glowing eyes and four legs sticking out of its back stood. Everything is still until the last light goes out as well.

Steve looked a little frightened as he said, “You really think-”

Natasha cut him off with an elbow to his side, “Shut up, he’s probably gone anyw-”

All the lights start flickering again, and the figure starts bouncing on the walls and ceiling in chaotic movements. The four legs on his back tearing at the paint as he gets closer. As soon as the figure is in punching distance the lights all go out and come back on again, and he’s gone.

“Where the fuck did he go?” Clint panicked.

And, with his voice modulated to sound deep and intimidating, Peter says, “I’m right behind you.”

Clint screams.

Peter grabs Clint’s legs to catch the man off-balance, then dragging him up the wall with ease. Before Natasha and Steve even had a chance to react Clint was webbed to the ceiling.

“H-hey, that’s enough, man! Let me down!”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Is that the best you got, Паук? You don’t even have the guts to kill people. Why should we be afraid?”

If he didn’t have his mask on, they would have seen Peter’s manic grin, “They only say that because they never find the bodies.”

“WHAT!?” Clint shouted.

Steve tried to throw his shield but Peter caught it and tore it in half like wet paper. He throws it to the ground at the Captain’s feet and jumps on the ceiling to once again drag a squirming Clint.

Natasha’s eyes widened, “Kid, ok you’ve made your point-”

The archer looked like he was about to start crying, “No, no! Put me down I refuse to be played with like this.”

Peter crawls over to the vent he jumped out of at the start of this and climbs inside, Clint grabbing onto the sides in an attempt to not be dragged away.

“No no no no no, please let me go!”

Natasha tried to jump up and grab her friend, “Shit!”

All the while, Steve kneeled on the ground, holding his broken shield and staring at it in horror, “What the fuck?”

Clint’s hands slipped and he was dragged further into the vent, leaving the two other heroes to listen in terror as fighting and screaming erupts from the vent.

Then everything goes silent.

Natasha tensed, “I’m going to go find Tony, see if he can track Clint.”

Before Steve can reply Natasha is running down the hall towards Tony’s lab.

Out of nowhere, a hand was on Steve’s shoulder, “Hey-”

Steve screamed and jumped away, throwing half of his shield at who he now knows is Bucky, “NOT ME! NOT ME! NO-”

Bucky dodged and looked at the shield, “What the fuck? What happened to your shield?”

Steve sighed, a hand over his racing heart, “You almost gave me a heart attack! I thought you were Peter.”

Bucky barked a laugh, “Yeah right. Peter isn’t scary Punk. Come on, we have to find him anyway.”

Steve tensed and looked up at the ceiling, “I...I have an idea where he is.”

#bamf peter parker #mcu #marvel

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canvas-the-florist · 3 years

Text

I Am Not a Poet

Ship(s): Past ambiguous Anxceit, romantic Intrumoceit (Remus, Patton, and Janus),

Warnings: food, swearing, jokes about sex, vague body horror

Summary: Janus was not a poet. Sure he liked expressing himself with words and phrases, but that was not what made a poet. He wasn’t sure what he was at all. This was based on a poem I made while bored in my French class, enjoy y’all! AO3 Link Here

Word Count: 5.2K

‘Whatever I want is the will and want of the gods; with no one to stop me I will say all the stupid things imaginable. What sins will be committed? What crimes against nature have already occurred? Who will be the savior left to rot by my hands and pen? No one can say, except me. And that is a dangerous thing. This sounds like a beginning but that is solely dependent on time, so for now nothing is certain.

The gods have stopped existing for years, and I have been on my own. Writing dumb things with those stupid quick hands of mine. What else is there to do when the world is doomed? If I stop too much reality will seep into my pores and inhibit my every movement. That is unacceptable for the one person supposed to be in charge, isn’t it? No breaks, no stopping, no rest. Nothing will end as long as I am here. But for how much longer will I lie about my experiences to raise hopes? I don’t know, I’m just trying to escape my boredom by making a false world all about myself. I will become the main character of a story. I do wish it won’t be a tragedy.’

Janus had decided he was not much of a poet. He liked poetry, of course, but he never really did anything with it. Sure, he had an urge to write out his feelings whenever they became too much, but isn’t that what everyone did? There has to have been a narrator torturing a character just to not feel alone at least once, right? But even with this all in mind, Janus was definitely not a poet. None of his words rhymed, metaphors were decidedly not his forte, and he only felt angry and tired. This didn’t stop him from pretending to experience positive emotions. Or to vent about it quietly in a worn notebook. He closed the book and hid it underneath some of his Decartes books, and sat up to stretch.

He knew that even though no other sides bothered to come into his room, he felt the need to hide everything that revealed a personality. Janus wasn’t comfortable with the idea that people could know who he is and how he became that way. The idea of people watching or studying him, for any reason whatsoever, was terrifying. And no one was allowed to know. Janus readjusted his capelet and hat before walking out his door and disappearing.

‘For any simple reason, I must hide who I am. It doesn’t matter how small or silly it may seem, but mysteriousness calls my name. Guess my natural hair color, guess my age, guess my favorite food. Nothing will be given for free. Fight to know me or suffer along with me and my hesitance.’

The living room was full of sides all quietly sitting in different areas, looking different degrees of uncomfortable. Virgil raised his eyebrow at Janus as he walked it. Janus decided to ignore the knots in his stomach as everyone else stared at him. Of course, Roman immediately went to sink out, without making direct eye contact.

“Oh, it’s Patton’s best friend,” Virgil remarked to a Logan who wasn’t paying attention. That’s when Patton walked in. He was gripping his mug tightly, almost as tight as his forced smile. Janus noticed him shaking but trying to stay calm. Virgil looked over to Patton. “And the liar’s friend too, how nice.”

“Kiddo, you’re still my best pal!” Patton’s voice was waning slightly. Janus went to grab the mug, half wondering if Patton was strong enough to crack it. When Virgil scoffed to hide his own tears, Patton’s grip softened, allowing Janus to grab it. He didn’t really want to get involved with all the problems that were going on, nothing he did would specifically help anyway, but it would feel worse if he did nothing. “Virgil, I care about you a lot! I, I love you. What am I doing wrong?”

Janus, at this point, was walking away, but decided to stop. He had asked himself that question too many times in regards to Virgil. It was frustrating to care about someone when they wouldn’t talk to you without yelling in your face.

“That’s your job isn’t it? To know what’s wrong?” Virgil scoffed. Janus clenched his fist and decided to go back to his room. “Though I don’t know how good you are at it.”

Later Janus found himself knocking on Patton’s door with a small plate of dinner. He had no idea if Patton ate with the others or not, but walked in anyways. Patton was crying silently into a pillow. When he noticed Janus, he quickly wiped his tears and gave a smile. Janus decided to close the door, place down the food, and open up his arms. Patton collapsed into the hug, sobbing into his shirt. Janus wasn’t used to people being vulnerable around him. Everyone was so on guard whenever he showed up, because of the innate lack of trust. What had he done to get Patton to be like this?

“Patton, you are going to be alright,” Janus soothed, not quite knowing if he was lying or not. He ran his hands through Patton’s hair softly. His emotions didn’t matter in this, and he knew that. Right now, Patton was being comforted and that’s what was important. “Everything will be fine. I won’t leave you. I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be.”

And he, true to his word for once, stayed until Patton fell limp in his arms from exhaustion. Janus quietly tucked him in and walked out. That was enough vulnerability for a while. Virgil was outside the door, holding cookies on a plate. Janus looked at him and blinked away any facial expression that could occur. Virgil tried to shove past him and into Patton’s room but Janus blocked with pseudo-nonchalantly.

“Believe it or not, Anxiety,” Virgil glared at him. “Patton has decided to rest from an emotionally taxing day. I suggest you wait until tomorrow.”

“What do you know, Deceit?” He asked, looking directly at him. Janus resisted the urge to look away. He hadn’t really liked eye contact that much and opted only to use it when necessary. “You’re kind of new to being friends with people without manipulating them.”

Janus was not a poet, but he had some choice words he wanted to use. Patton was sleeping, now was not the time for yelling. So, he took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts in a way that Virgil could understand. “You are not the person who decides who I am. That’s me. And I am friends with Patton, and today you hurt him a lot. So I would appreciate it, if you took your self-righteous bullshit and realized that just because you’re a light side, doesn’t mean you don’t need change. Patton is working so hard on himself, and not judging others too harshly and you’re so quick to shoot down anything he does. Just let him sleep before forcing him to deal with yet another guilt trip from an emo raccoon. Okay?”

He decided not to wait for a response, not sure if he was going to get one regardless.

Janus just hoped that Patton was sleeping better than he was going to be.

‘Every single thing I experience feels like the end of the world. By the time I was thirteen I was convinced that I wouldn’t live past my own birthday. Who would’ve thought I was growing to be an edgy adult with a yellow and black color scheme? I stand up for myself and think it’s a death sentence and have the same reaction when I do nothing. The world is ending and I didn’t save it.

The plane is crashing, and I’m looking down at the sand like everything is okay.’

Janus was around Patton a lot. Because of this, he noticed that no one else seemed to communicate with him, aside from Remus. He certainly wasn’t expecting Patton and Remus to get along, but it was a nice surprise. Janus didn’t expect to have a growing friend group so quickly. If quickly meant over the course of several years. Still, surprising nonetheless.

They were all in Patton’s room, watching an animal documentary together. Remus was on the floor, enjoying whenever an animal got killed somehow or learning a gross fact eating a mixture of rocks that vaguely looked like corn kernels. Patton was on his bed, hugging a stuffed animal tightly, smiling whenever cute moments showed up and hid during everything else. Janus was kind of just there because… well he wasn’t entirely sure, but he did enjoy popcorn from time to time. Perhaps more often if it meant hugs and cuddles from his friends. Remus had grabbed his leg at one point, and Patton was basically suffocating his arm. But he refused to change anything about it.

He didn’t know where Virgil was and was too tired to pretend he didn’t care. Janus was originally planning to keep it to himself when his most annoying and lovable companion spoke.

“Yo, Snake-Ass!” Remus yelled, Patton looked up from under his blankets in confusion. His glasses were slightly askew and Janus would’ve melted if he weren’t so consumed by worry. “You haven’t made a single response to all of my wonderful commentary about this delightful kid’s film in the past forever! What is up your butt?”

Patton was about to chide, but decided to stop himself. Janus almost felt proud of his growth. “I, I would like to know that too, Janus. Are you okay?”

A sunfish was the center of the screen being eclipsed by two faces peering at Janus. “Oh, I’m totally fine, don't worry about it.” The two gave him looks that clearly told him his doublespeak wasn’t working out. Janus groaned. The two morons have gotten way too close to him and he despised it. Clearly. “Virgil hasn’t been… present in a while. I would totally be concerned about him but I… I don’t know what he wants from me.”

“From you?” Patton repeated, fixing his glasses.

“Oh, definitely hate sex.” Remus blurted with a short nod. When there wasn’t an immediate response he shrugged. “Or he’s jealous that you decided to finally move on from whatever happened between you two and he hasn’t yet.”

That was certainly a way to look at it. But Janus didn’t know if he had moved on yet. Sure, he had grown past it. But moved on? How can he say he was fine with what transpired when sometimes he would wake up in angry, bitter tears? When Janus still wanted to wrap his arms around Virgil just to be nearby? Janus was hurt. Not as much as he used to be, but he still missed his friend. He missed Virgil.

“You think he’s jealous? Why?”

Patton leaned on Janus’s shoulder. “I think that he’s afraid. Not of you, but that we won’t like him anymore. That doesn’t make up for what he said to you, or… or to me. But we shouldn’t discount that he’s jealous that we’re friends because he doesn’t want to lose anyone. Or, or maybe I’m projecting. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, daddy.” Patton immediately sat up, red in the face. Remus didn’t seem to notice. “This is something that Virgil has to deal with. It is not your responsibility.”

The three stayed silent. The documentary was reaching its end but none of them cared. Patton slowly put his blanket over them all, placing himself in the middle. Remus put his arm around Patton’s shoulders, and Janus discreetly pretended not to place his hand on his thigh. He eventually cleared his throat. “Do you think the others will still want to be my family? Even though I’m with you guys now? I know it was the right choice, being with you both. But what if Roman, Logan, and Virgil don’t talk to me unless I give up you two? I don’t want to lose my family. Either part of it.”

“I don’t know, Patton.” Janus responded. “I can’t promise that you won’t have to decide, but I won’t force you to.”

Remus squeezed Patton’s shoulder, in a quiet show of support. Patton gave a weak smile. When the documentary finished, the three of them were cuddling on Patton’s bed, appearing asleep. Though it was hard to tell with figments of someone’s imagination. The credits rolled with an orchestral song playing softly with them. Janus leaned into Remus while holding Patton’s hand limply. The blanket was almost completely stolen by Patton somehow but if the other’s minded, they were too asleep to notice. Janus woke up, seeing that at some point the TV turned off and the world was dark. He blinked to get used to the static from the lack of light, and decided to sit up.

His head was aching slightly but Janus elected to ignore it. Janus looked at Remus and Patton, who were still sleeping. He wasn’t exactly sure when Remus stripped off almost all of his clothes, but he didn’t really care, just pulling the blanket over him so he wouldn’t get too cold. With that, Janus walked out of the room as quietly as he could. He knew that technically he could stay but he wasn’t in the right headspace for feelings for his friends at the current moment. The door closed before Janus could see Patton open his eyes.

‘The world loves to change its tempo whenever I manage to get a hold of it. God forbid I have enough time to apologize. But now I must wallow in pleasant situations worrying about everything I cannot pause to think about.

Time is awfully inconvenient and yet I try to fight it for more. When will it be enough? When can I finally feel peace? When can I rest? I never know what to do when time lingers, but I know that I will make mistakes. I have made mistakes.

Is writing this one of them?’

Virgil was sitting on the stairs when Janus passed by. He stood up quickly and grabbed his circle before sinking down. Janus yelped as he found himself in Virgil’s room, but composed himself. While looking around, Virgil sighed and put his hands in his jacket. Janus straightened his back, looking directly at him.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what you uh, what you said.” Virgil started. Janus denied himself the thought of heckling him. “And, as much as I hate to say it, you’re right. I don’t have to like you, and to be clear, I don’t like you.” There was a pause, Janus looked down. “But, that doesn’t give me the right to be… rude. Me not trusting someone shouldn’t be equivalent to acting like a piece of shit. Now that that’s out of the way… What’s next?”

“What’s next?” Janus repeated. “What’s next is you don’t expect me to accept this immediately. It will take time.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, Patton apologized and you immediately started to date him so I thought this would turn out relatively okay.”

“What?” Janus asked. “Patton and I- we aren’t- I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And I thought you were a genuine threat.” Virgil huffed, taking his hands out his jacket and carding them through his hair. “Listen, I don’t like you. Don’t hurt Patton and we’ll be on equal footing. Now get out of my room.”

Ignoring the fact that Janus was forcibly pulled into the room, he had something else to say as he walked out. “Have you talked to Patton yet?” Virgil didn’t immediately respond, looking down so Janus decided to assume the answer. “You should. Not that you wouldn’t already know, but Patton misses his ‘best bud’ or something similarly cheesy.”

With that he left. Janus, at another movie night with Remus and Patton didn’t feel like mentioning it. Maybe Virgil’s apology could stay between them for a bit. He didn’t want to ruin his chance at having him as a friend again, despite never willing to admit that he missed Virgil. This time the group had decided to watch Centaurworld, a show for all of them. Cute fun songs, hidden dark lore and intrigue, and the stable fart jokes. Perfect.

Janus leaned on Remus’s chest, his eyelids heavy. Patton put his arm around him, kissing his cheek. He felt himself blush but was too tired to move. Remus ruffled his hair. Janus wondered if Virgil would ever talk to him again, as a friend. Or was everything too late? He thought back to what Virgil said about him dating Patton… It was safe to say that Janus had certainly thought about it before, he was going to think about the cheek kiss for weeks to come. All the tiredness in his brain was lifted as he became aware of how close he was to these two sides. Was that okay? Everything was so fucked up, was this the best time?

“Fuck,” He heard Remus whisper.

“I, uh,” Patton stuttered for a bit. “What’s wrong, Remus?”

Remus hummed, making Janus vibrate slightly uncomfortably. “I think I’m in love with you and Janus.”

He couldn’t imagine the facial expression that either of them were making, Janus was focusing too hard on keeping his own in check. “Thanks for telling me! I… I think I love you two too! Oh, tutu… Sorry, I just, are you going to tell him?”

“I could,” Remus started playing with Janus’s hair, and he subconsciously leaned into it. Janus started legitimately falling asleep. “But he’s dealing with a lot. Being accepted by Thomas and all that’s happening is probably a lot to deal with. Especially for an integral side. Also, I want to know what my favorite daddy has to say about it first!”

Patton coughed from embarrassment. “Well first of all mister, you should probably stop with the names. And second, you are an important side, Remus. I may have been hesitant about you at first, but that wasn’t right of me. You are integral to Thomas.”

“Thanks,” It was so quietly said, Janus wasn’t sure if it was Remus. “Are you going to give me a chance to sweep your DILF self off your feet?”

“Oh, honey, I’m already head over heels!”

While the two laughed, Janus went fully limp and lost consciousness. Hearing that two people he cared deeply about admit their feelings and flirt obnoxiously was entertaining but he was too damn exhausted to care. Janus only hoped they’d remember to tell him about it when he finally woke up.

‘Why must I feel guilty to enjoy things? To take up space? I spend every waking second justifying every single thing about myself. I make up reasons for my existence and why people would hate me for it. But I’m scared. I’m scared to let myself be happy, to let myself breathe or take even a small break.

This isn’t how it should be, but it is. And I don’t know how to change it. Or if I should.’

Everything was going good for Janus, great even! But why did he not feel that? Why wasn’t this enough? Virgil apologized to him, and was also working on himself, which was great, but he missed Virgil. Patton and Remus confirmed that they had crushes on him, but he had yet to get told directly. Logan was acting more passive aggressive, like he was compensating for something. Janus wasn’t exactly sure what it was about, and didn’t feel like pushing it. And Roman… He had to admit that the fallout between him and Roman was almost entirely his fault. Janus just wasn’t sure how to fix that, if he even could. So he mostly just left Roman and Logan alone. In turn, he spent most of his time around Patton and Remus.

“You seem to be mentally distracted many times a day, Janus.. Is there any particular reason for that?” Logan asked. Janus blinked at him in confusion for a few seconds.

“Just have a lot of things on my mind, figuratively.” As he said this, Janus took off his hat to make the statement literal instead. Logan scrunched up his nose and narrowed his eyes. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes today, so Janus put his hat back on. “I don’t understand why you would care about my state of mind, anyway. Don’t you have sides you care about… more?”

“We may… clash, but that doesn’t mean I am not concerned about the overall well being of Thomas, himself. And you are a part of Thomas, logically I’d be concerned about you as well.” Janus raised an eyebrow as Logan seemed very on edge. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t imitate me for a joke, it… I am not fond of that version of myself.”

With that, Logan decided to promptly leave. Janus sat, confused about what had just happened. What exactly was he supposed to gain from that conversation anyways? Janus knew that Logan was not doing well, but he was starting to believe that he was under exaggerating what had been happening with him. Too focused on, well, many other things that might not be as top priority.

Janus was not the person that Logan wanted to see, but Janus still wanted to be there. He knew how he wanted to help Logan, but he would need assistance from… someone else. Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be easy for any parties involved.

‘When the time comes to ask for help, the immediate response is to fight against it. Trying to swim back to shore when you yourself were the one who swam too far, and refusing to scream for a lifeguard. Even though it is someone’s job to help, I am so sure of myself that I can do everything alone, as I have for so many years.

But now? When people would actually listen to my pleas? It is so hard to unlearn something that was taught to me for my own survival. But I do not need to survive off the bare minimum anymore. I am allowed to sit on the shore, watching the waves instead.’

“What do you want?”

“I just want you to help me make coffee.” Janus reiterated once more. Roman was glowering at him, but Janus stood tall. “Along with a paper face mask. One of those that has healthy ingredients and moisturizes your skin or whatever. They aren’t for me, Roman, and I can’t do that myself. Only you can summon things outside of the mind palace.”

“Not the good twin?” Roman spat out. Janus winced, he knew that Remus could also summon as well, but admitting that he wanted all the other sides to like him would be… embarrassing. Not to mention all the fighting going around with everyone in general. “What schemes are you even going to do with these things? Why do you think I would want to help you?”

He didn’t know how to respond, but Roman was right in a way. Right to be suspicious of someone who treated him badly, and pretended like it never happened. Janus would have to accept that he couldn’t win back the trust he broke. “I’m not going to say that you have to trust me, I just want to make the situation… improved.”

“... you make us better…” Roman muttered to himself, seeming to echo something. Janus thought back to any previous interaction they’ve had but couldn’t recall where the phrase was from. Roman took a breath which ended in exhaling with a shudder. He felt like he should step closer, give words of comfort, but he knew not to. Janus turned around, knowing that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted but he felt something lightly hit his back. When he looked on the ground, it was a back of ground coffee beans and a box. Janus looked at the prince. “Cream masks are more effective. I don’t forgive you for what you’ve done, but you’re not a villain.”

“You’re not either.” Janus replied.

Roman sniffed and wiped his face. “Sure.”

Later, Janus gave the gifts to Logan with a short apology and awkwardly left to collapse on his bed. He told Remus and Patton about the exchange a few hours later, who seemed proud of him. It had been a while since he had felt truly proud of his own actions and it was nice to have support. While lying in between the sleeping Patton and Remus, Janus idly wondered how Thomas was feeling.

‘At one point in life, I got too tired of the world. I wanted to give up, but I spent the last of my energy on being kind. Some people live their entire lives without knowing just how hard it is to be nice. It truly sucks being a good person and trying to be good to yourself as well. Terrible.

But at the same time, I appreciate the things others do just a bit more, and that makes me want to try too if they can. Maybe kindness deserves my energy.’

The world took a long time waking Janus up. He was still surrounded by the warmth of two other sides. Nothing was perfect but he could pretend that it was while curling into Patton’s chest with Remus’s arm draped over him in a way that should not be possible if he has bones in his body. Still, nothing could remain. Remus stirred and reset his arm to look functioning once more with a terribly loud snap that woke up Patton. Janus let himself fall off of Patton and rested his back on the bed while looking up at the ceiling. He felt the peace of an early morning for a few seconds before Remus interrupted it loudly.

“Janus do you want to have sex with us?”

“What.” Janus sat up too fast and loud at Remus with exasperation.

Patton looked very embarrassed. “He didn’t mean it… exactly like that. But, I, we… have found out recently that we both really like you, romantically-”

“Or sexually!” Remus added.

His eyes darted between the two, officially woken up and just KNOWING that his hair looked like shit. “You two will discover the death of me one day.” Patton looked concerned while Remus looked excited about the prospect. “To clarify that, I would just absolutely despise dating the two of you.”

Janus opened his arms for a hug and got toppled into the dog pile he was anticipating. Who knew that he would’ve felt so comfortable around two of the most eccentric sides Thomas has to offer? And, just as he thought that, he was forcibly summoned and barely had enough time to grab his hat.

“Woah, this too early?” Thomas asked. He looked tired, which wasn’t ever surprising. Janus snapped on the rest of his outfit and gave a look trying to convey that Thomas should just get on with it already. “Oh, well… I just have a feeling or two that you’re causing something in my brain.”

“Janus can only cause things in your brain, as he is a part of you Thomas.” Logan clarified. Janus jolted back in surprise, not noticing he was there before turning to see that Roman and Virgil were there as well. “You should really be clearer with the information you’re trying to get across.”

“Which is that your slimy snake boy is changing a lot of shit up.” Virgil summed up. Janus didn’t necessarily disagree, a lot of this seemed out of character for him, but he didn’t love being villainized even more. “I mean, you saw that he was wearing colorful socks with a cartoon turtle pattern on them, right?”

Roman nodded, pointing at Virgil slightly. “I did notice that! I didn’t know if anyone else had caught that.”

“Let’s focus up!” Thomas said. “What have you been up to, dude? My mental health is actually improving and that’s weird.”

“Yes and we all know that I’m solely in charge of that.” Janus deadpanned. “I definitely didn’t focus on your growth as a person because of mistakes that might have been made and that changes how I react to things. That would be strange, wouldn’t it?”

With no one knowing how to respond, Janus wanted to fill the silence. “I don’t care if none of you in this room forgives me, because I was just doing my job, but I can’t deny that there were better ways to go about things that I didn’t originally know about. I am self preservation and recently part of preserving the self gives to caring about other people, because Thomas is trying his best to be a good person despite my best efforts. Am I good to go now that I’ve given my MOST heartfelt speech?”

“You can do what you want, buddy.” Thomas replied, he seemed to be thinking a lot of things through. Janus made eye contact with Logan who nodded at him, then to Roman who gave a small weak smile. Before sinking out, he looked at Virgil. Virgil’s eyes looked vacant for a second before looking back at him. Janus didn’t know how to feel, he wasn’t a poet and didn’t know how to put any of his emotions into words.

But he sank out and felt the need to cry, out of relief perhaps, and was comforted by a hug from his new significant others. Janus didn’t know what he was doing, he never really did. Patton rubbed circles into his back while Remus held Janus’s head softly to his chest. He was trying really hard to be better, and it was so hard. Everything felt difficult when trying something new. He knew he had to try though, because this was worth it. Janus cried for what felt like hours, and when he was cleaning his face with water, he looked at his reflection and gave himself the smallest, honest smile.

‘The winds are quiet and I am watching the seashore. Others are collecting shells, or swimming, or surfing, but I am content where I am. The world is finally quiet and I am learning to understand that I have an important place in it.

Everything is cruel, and horrible, and dangerous. But it is also hopeful, nice, and working to be better. And here I am, in what feels like the middle of it all overwhelmed. Everything feels like too much, so I cannot possibly imagine it all, and I hope I never will. I am tired and cruel and kind, and I’m not going to stop trying to improve. I’m worth the effort.’

Taglist: @emsiemaefander @jackscareington @aromantic-trash-panda @aricana8 @idont-freaking-know @lickoutyourbrains @littlestr @izzy-dunoire @caprine-hyacinth @beetles-and-art @plume-pigmented-pili @gaytrash330 @soap-allergy @bard-in-blue @ciarrac @you-gay-bitch @obsxdiannn @robinhooddee33 @some-fander @intruality-overlord @tuesday-jorts @subtlereferencetomyinterests @dancinglifeboat @theres-a-snake-in-my-croc @froglegss @yiqiangmina if you want to be tagged in any future fanfics or not be tagged please interact or communicate that somehow, thank you <3

#intrumoceit #moceit #intruality #dukeceit #sanders sides #swearing #emile writes #fanfiction #thomas sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #character thomas #logan sanders #virgil sanders #not me forgetting my own plot I made for this story #fake shitpost

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zombieheroine · 3 years

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Domestic Enemy

Pairing: MegOp Rating: G Word count: 2486

MegOP week prompt: Domestic * Optimus came to slowly. He had a vague recollection that he had been hit by something heavy, and as he regained consciousness he realized he was lying under some support beams in a half collapsed hallway. Little by little, it came back to him. A battle in a nebula, an old Cybertronian outpost in an asteroid field. Energon storages and a race for them against the Decepticons, who had the disadvantage of not having and up-to-date map but the advantage of natural scouts and experienced miners.

Structures built inside asteroids, metal merged into rock, and a network of bridges and flight paths between asteroids. Megatron. Optimus blinked and stared up to the half-collapsed ceiling. He wasn’t sure which one of them had made the mistake, but they had focused on each other and engaged in their own private battle so deeply they had gotten separated from the others. It had been Megatron’s fusion cannon that had brought the eons old tunnel down on them, but privately Optimus cursed his own foolishness just as much. It seemed that no matter how many times he repeated to himself that he shouldn’t lose focus in combat and be lured to Megatron alone, it still happened again and again. It had happened again, and now he was stuck alone in an ancient tunnel, laying over some rusted railway tracks that had once been used to transport minerals from the asteroid mines, and so far removed from his troops that he couldn’t even hear them anymore. But mulling over his past mistakes never helped, especially not when he had more pressing matters in the present. Optimus regarded the position he was in. There were some rocks on him and around him, but mostly he was pressed down by a large support beam that had been half torn, half melted off the ceiling. He cycled air through his vents for a few moments before wrestling his arms underneath the beam, then decisively pressed it up and off his chassis. It took him a serious, concentrated effort, but eventually the metal groaned and gave way, bending off his chassis, and letting him out of the trap. But as he rolled away, Optimus realized he was far from freedom. The tunnel around him was still unstable and he was technically buried in there, but getting to move was a good first step. Very carefully he pushed his way past piles of rocks and tried his best not to make his situation worse, and so he crawled through the tunnel towards the way he had been going for. The Autobots had had a few old maps about the mining colony, so Optimus knew the tunnel would eventually lead into a larger hall where freshly mined energon would be loaded for transport, but just knowing where he was going didn’t solve all of his problems. Megatron was still somewhere close by. There was a possibility that he could have died when the tunnel collapsed, but Optimus knew he wasn’t that lucky. After what felt like eternity crawling under rocks and boulders and dust filling his vents, Optimus finally made it into a room. It was a mid-sized loading station, the tracks ending at stoppers and large loading patches. There wasn’t that much in the room otherwise, simply loading stations, repair stations and a small break area, and – “Well look who made it after all,” Megatron grunted with a roll of his optics. “I expected nothing less of my luck.” For a moment Optimus was ready to fight, but Megatron didn’t seem to want to. He was seated against the wall at the break area, and just like Optimus covered in dust and dents, but also clutching his arm to his side. He didn’t seem too interested in continuing their rumble, so Optimus didn’t fire up his blasters, simply pulled himself back up to his pedes. “I could say the same to you,” he said, puffing air through his vents in an attempt to clear them. It felt like there was a persistent layer caked on the metal, and it didn’t come loose no matter how he puffed. He didn’t try too hard. It was dangerous to show any weakness in front of Megatron, even though right now he didn’t want to fight. It might change if he re-evaluated the situation and decided for example to use Optimus’ compromised cooling system against him. Optimus stayed well away from Megatron, sticking to the other side of the room. He took a look around in the room, searching for a way out while subtly using his comm system to call out to his troops. “Go ahead and call your pitiful little followers,” Megatron called from his spot. “No reason to be shy about it. I already called mine.” “I’m not shy,” Optimus scoffed, but he let his arm hang more freely by his side as he

clicked the cover plate over the comm system shut as if he had never tried to hide it in the first place. “Sure,” Megaton replied with a roll of his optics. “Whatever you say.” “What happened to you anyway?” Optimus demanded while measuring the Decepticon leader with his optics. With all his heavy armour and weaponry he was now sitting down on the floor, a position Optimus wasn’t sure he had ever seen him before, covered in a heavy layer of dust and dirt and splattered energon, his arm limp in his lap. Megatron’s expression didn’t even twitch when he replied through his sharp dentae: “Nothing. I’m fine.” His spinal strut was straight where he sat as he was there out of pure will of his own. To Optimus’ curious gaze he looked like a miner fresh out of a disastrous accident, and he wondered if this was more like Megatron’s original form he had only ever talked about and never shown. “No, you’re not. I can see that you’re hurt. Do you need help?” Optimus insisted, his gaze focused on the way Megatron’s powerful arm hung limp in his hold, the blaster cannon dark, and dust and dirt caked on it in dark clumps that must have been due to spilled energon. “No. Mind your own business!” Megatron snarled with bared dentae, but clutched his arms tighter, the limp movement highlighting how it couldn’t move on its own. The image of a wounded miner crouched on a floor made Optimus feel a pang of guilt over his previous failure over reforming Cybertron, partially in ways Megatron had held him up to, but the snarl and the personal wound from stellar cycles ago kept his mind cleared and irritation as the most seminal emotion he felt. “You started it!” he snapped back, perhaps giving away more personal investment that was proper for them, and Megatron responded with a disgruntled frown. “Don’t nag me,” he said in a put-upon huff once again rolling his helm like it was all a big, unimportant bother to him. “I am not nagging!” Optimus snapped, more slighted than he ought to be and more out of control than he usually allowed himself to come across. A moment of silence followed with Megatron seated where he was, gaze focused well past Optimus, and Optimus defiantly refusing any care or worry for his enemy, yet venting heavily and leaned forward in focused concern. It took a moment for Optimus to gather himself. He was a Prime now, there was no individual and no personal agenda, only principle, and that was what he focused on. He calmed himself, took a step back and lowered him voice. “Do you need help?” he offered in a voice full of his newly found confidence. Megatron barely spared him a glance of his narrowed optics, the red glow of them mean and uncaring. “No.” Optimus rolled his optics. It had been a formal question with the positive answer clearly within reach, and Megatron must have well known it, yet he still lied and refused. Optimus couldn’t care for the game anymore, so he cut simply to the core of the matter: “You need help. Let me.” Finally Megatron turned his gaze back to him, now baring his dentae at him in an open snarl and angrily demanded: “Why would you even do that? We are enemies, get that through your thick helm already, Optimus Prime!” All the anger and bitterness flew past Optimus. He had come to expect that, and now that he got more of that sour anger he felt barely anything. He simply sighed and stepped closer: “Just show me your arm already.” It was that push that was all that it took. Optimus stepped closer across the floor, and Megatron didn’t say anything more, simply watched him approach without mocking. He didn’t cover or dodge, and Optimus expected nothing like that of him, but he was still glad he was allowed to approach. It was a slow dance. Even though Megatron was wounded, he was still extremely dangerous as Optimus had witnessed multiple times himself, and just because he had his own stubborn idea about helping him didn’t mean he was ignoring everything he knew about his enemy and just barging in on danger. But nothing happened. Optimus approached, Megatron stayed

where he was, and finally Optimus managed to crouch down next to him on the floor. Just taking a look that close up made it clear that there was nothing seriously wrong with Megatron’s arm, it was simply dislocated, and Optimus knew how to hep him. It was reaching out and touching a wounded gladiator that was the problem, and Optimus bided his time well. “I’m going to set it back into its socket,” he declared, servos hovering over the wounded warlord’s limp arm. “It will probably hurt, but I’ll be quick.” Megatron didn’t reply and opted to look the other way, and Optimus took that as a sign to go ahead and do his thing. He grabbed a firm hold of Megatron’s forearm and with his other servo on the shoulder guard, then in one powerful move yanked them both in different direction while keeping them in firmly same level. Megaron didn’t even make a sound, just clenched his dentae and offlined his optics, until the mechanism locked down in its proper place. When there was a sharp snap of a joint in its socket, and he released the air he had been holding in a controlled exvent. With the joint in place, Megatron flexed and moved his arm. First the digits clutched together, then the whole arm rose from its delicate cradle, and he stretched it out and rolled the joint over a few times in gentle movement. Optimus saw his enemy regaining his senses and power, so he took a few careful steps back from him, even when Megatron remained seated. After a few stretches, Megaton gave him a hostile yet dry look, and muttered: “I hate when you do that.” Optimus quirked his optic ridges in disbelief and crossed his arms. He might have been disapproving, but he wasn’t surprised. “What, help you? I though you would be glad to take advantage whenever you could.” “Not when you act like you care about me like you used to,” Megatron growled, the earlier bitterness gaining more and more foothold in his tone. He didn’t sound smooth and aloof like when he taunted him, or enraged like he often did on battlefield. This bitter tone was mostly foreign on him, but also more close to the way Optimus thought about Megatron inside the privacy of his own mind. He tightened the lock of his arms in front of him. Optimus gave Megatron a flat stare and considered the words. It was yet another cruelly clear window to the way Megatron viewed the world: it was full of deceit and pretence, a world where no one did anything out of pure kindness or care but simply in order to take advantage. In his world there was nothing more expect abusers and victims, those stronger and cleverer than others and those left trampled under their pedes. Every time they had a chance to discuss anything personal, Optimus was bitterly remained that to Megatron he had always been only something to fool and use, not anything to appreciate or open up to. He scoffed, once again detaching himself and raising above all worldly grievances and burdens. “Think of this whatever you will. It has become very clear of late to me that you wouldn’t understand it.” Megatron was silent. He was silent for a long while in that thoughtful, genuine way that he often had been in a way Optimus had never heard from anyone mighty or powerful. Megatron’s silence was the type that opened up to the other and considered them seriously. Ironically it was on moments that he was silent that Optimus was transferred back to times when he had desperately voiced an opinion or a view of his own, something vulnerable and new and deeply personal, and then had it faced with this silence. It had always felt like he had gotten through to Megatron, like he was really listening and letting his voice in. Shockingly, it was like that now, in this foreign, long since abandoned mining colony at the end of a collapsed mining tunnel that Optimus felt it again. For a split of a klik he was hopeful. He felt heard and seen, his sentiment sinking into his counterpart, opening up something new and beyond imagining. Hope soared and got the better of him, just for a klik. Then Megatron closed off again, his

expression souring and helm tilting back against the wall behind him, his healthy servo absentmindedly rubbing over his set arm. His gaze slipped past Optimus again, indifferent and cold, and his upper lipplate revealed a part of his dentae as it drew back. “Our troops will come for us soon. This will be over then,” he remarked in a deep, dark voice without looking at Optimus. Hope slipped and shattered for the hundredth time in Optimus. “I am aware, and I accept it,” he replied, quietly doubting his earlier sentiment. He never knew what to make of these passing moments of connection and understanding. They were too sudden to be deception or imagined, but consistently they shattered and vanished, so they weren’t too real either. Glimpses of what once where, he supposed. Glimpses of something overdue and impossible. Optimus walked back across the room and wondered if Megatron even knew what his most devastating weapon against him in this war even was. He might have not, since after all he didn’t seem to appreciate finer things or matters of the spark that much at all. It was all the same to him, and he let them slip by him as if he was certain there was plenty of more of them to come. Optimus couldn't say for certain that he was wrong.

#megop #megop week 2021 #maccadam #tfp #transformers #kapteenin raapustus

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niconebula · 3 years

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Ai’s Feelings

After some reflection, I’m going to say something a little crazy. Take this with a grain of salt, but I find this SO interesting and I truly hope it’s the direction this story is taken. Neiru’s explanation of Ai simply being attracted to the teacher has seemed way too simple, but I can’t help but think a grain of it has to be true in some way.

Hear me out:

Ai is lonely and soaks up attention like a sponge. She is shy and has been bullied for her heterochromia - then she is approached by Koito who brushes the hair away from her eyes and, later, is the first to tell her they are pretty. Why Koito approaches her so intently, I’m not sure.

It’s not lost on me the romantic undertones of this - and it’s not just me looking too hard. The flower language is obvious. And the bed scene where Koito compliments Ai. Especially when a similar line is used to paint Sawaki in a romantic light (🤢 I hate him, we all do, that’s the point). It’s interesting to me that this coding is the one episode where we just get to see them interact one on one without external influence. Anyway —

They become friends and Koito begins to be bullied. It could be for association, or already because of Mr Sawaki’s ‘special treatment’ - or both. Ai doesn’t help out Koito’s situation much because she is scared, queue the failed recording from the closet scene but Koito puts on a strong face (reasons unknown again).

It seems like Koito backs away from relying on Ai after this, and she’s seen in the club room in Sawaki’s embrace. Ai expresses apparent resentment over the fact that Koito didn’t come to her to vent (and well it’s because you weren’t being too helpful). Koito herself seems to crave more attention from the teacher and suggests Ai should drop out and she can take her place for his art project.

This is where the logic of Ai being jealous over the teacher’s affection starts to come into question - what I just mentioned doesn’t seem like a disingenuous line at all. It’s actually something hard for her to admit, and it’s jealousy over Koito’s attention and not Sawaki’s. Koito’s actions however line up with the idea that she was attracted to the teacher, for now. I believe there will be a lot more revealed there.

I’m going to be deliberately vague on some of this because it’s impossible to parse out right now - but I think Koito and Sawaki are... muddled in Ai’s mind?

I like to look for patterns here. They both make comments about her eyes, make sudden intrusions into her life and home (symbolized by feet and shoes actually), and she both idealizes them and has feelings of resentment. They’re also both figures of safety for her at school (Koito in the past and now Sawaki as she returns). And the feet thing is legit, the first shot of Koito in Ai’s house is her bare feet on the carpet, and when Sawaki is there we almost always see his shoes first.

Here’s my ‘thesis’ statement then:

I think Ai is genuinely, hopelessly confused about receiving attention and love from others. When Koito was kind to her, Ai became attached. She idealized (and still does it seems) her; describing her as “gentle, innocent” and “pretty”. This could have been in a romantic sense, though Ai never realized it and it is very muddy in the first place. Now Koito has died and she is left with Sawaki, who does some similar things. Ai wants to see the best in people, and soaks up attention like a sponge, so now she has been led to believe he is a good person. She quite literally attaches herself to him at the end of the episode and vows to return to school.

Now this sounds really weird but. Is Mr Sawaki a replacement in Ai’s subconscious for Koito? Koito dies and her comfort is gone - she becomes a shut in. But she makes Mr Sawaki her new rock, and upon realizing this she can go back to school. And of course he is going to break that trust.

I believe everything in this show is there for a reason, it’s a tightly packed 12 episode anime. To me, this checks out upon the rewatch of scenes and leaves really interesting possibilities for Ai as a character and her development. Sorry if this is less cleanly written than my other post - but I hope it can make some people think.

#wonder egg priority #ai ohto #koito nagase #mr sawaki #anime #am I crazy or am I crazy? :D #also ur place to judge if either of these are romantic #I would say yes but also no.. esp with the teacher I don’t think she would actually want that

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actress4him · 3 years

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The Barn 4 - The Pole

(Prompt #1 for Summer of Whump)

Yes, I’m coming in at the last minute with one more Summer of Whump prompt, and yes, it’s prompt #1. Also, if you read more than one of my series I’m sorry that this one is kinda like that one chapter of In Irons...? But I actually thought of this one first, and yes, it was inspired by Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Warnings: captivity, restraints, dehumanization, references to beating, mild blood, starvation, dehydration, nausea, emeto, fainting, heat exhaustion/stroke, probably medically inaccurate

Stetson dropped Jacob’s foot, and another puff of red dust went up into the air, joining the cloud that his body had created as it was dragged. It would have been the perfect time for him to leap up and try to run again, but he couldn’t move. His everything ached.

A second later a leather-clad hand gripped his arm and yanked him upright. Jacob’s head swam with the swift change in elevation and his nose throbbed. While he was busy trying to get the world to stop spinning around him, Stetson roughly pulled his arms behind his back and started winding rope around his wrists.

Fantastic. He hadn’t even gotten to enjoy them being free.

Once they were thoroughly wrapped and the rope pulled tight, Stetson stood, taking the tail end with him and jerking Jacob’s arms backwards in the process. He cried out in surprise, and tried to get up. His legs only cooperated enough to scoot him back a few inches, but it was enough to let his arms rest against his back again.

Whatever Stetson was doing, he finished up and came back around to squat in front of his captive, arms propped across his knees and brown eyes studying him just as emotionlessly as ever.

“Maybe a few days of this’ll teach you some manners.”

“Doubt it,” Jacob immediately shot back without thinking. “My mom’s been trying to teach me manners for twenty-six years. I wouldn’t count on a few days making much of a difference.”

Stetson huffed very lightly, something that almost could have been taken for a laugh if Jacob wasn’t positive the guy didn’t know how. “We’ll see.”

Straightening with a quiet popping of joints, he turned and strolled away.

There was no way he was just leaving Jacob alone and able to run off. Craning his neck painfully around, he finally took a look at what was behind him. A post. A wooden post, probably coming up to around his shoulders. And the rope that was tying his wrists was looped through a metal hook in the top and knotted.

Okay, no problem. Jacob was good with his hands, he had nimble fingers from spending all day typing code. Struggling to his feet, he bent over forward so that he could reach and felt his way up the rope until he reached the knot, fingers fumbling around it, trying to get a sense of where it started.

Instead, he found a padlock.

Jacob let out a frustrated scream, the first time he’d actually had a chance to vent his feelings since this whole nightmare began. It felt good enough that he did it again. Then he ran forward, as hard as he could, as if he was somehow going to break the rope or pull the post out of the ground instead of nearly ripping his shoulders out of socket when he abruptly reached the end of his lead.

Tied to a stupid pole like...like a horse, or a dog. He was a human, dang it! Who did these people think they were, treating another person like this? The last…forty-eight? seventy-two? He didn’t even know how many hours anymore...had been completely flabbergasting, just seeing the sheer number of people who thought this was perfectly okay. And now he was stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with some psychopath who thought he was gonna what, train him? To do what, he didn’t even want to know.

Night was falling by then. Jacob was beyond exhausted, and resigned himself to sinking back down to the dirt, resting his back against the pole and getting as comfortable as possible.

The next day dawned with little sleep having been found. The sharp pains of yesterday had given way to stiffness and aches that made it hard to pry himself off the ground. His face was coated with dried blood and who knows what else, making him sticky and disgusted in addition to everything else.

He’d really never liked the outdoors that much. He was much more at home inside, in front of a computer. The outside had far too many things that could get you dirty, like, you know, dirt, for instance, like the kind of dirt he was currently sitting on and covered in. Most of his friends growing up had been your typical rough-and-tumble boys who lived for mud puddles and rolling down grassy hills, but Jacob had never been able to stand the feeling of being dirty.

Sweat was a thing encountered more often outdoors, too, and was just as bad as dirt. He could feel it, collecting underneath his shirt as the sun rose higher in the wide, blue sky. There was nothing in the way of shade in this field. Just dirt, dust, and more dirt, all surrounded by a wooden fence. A corral, probably. Meant for horses, not people.

The heat only grew more intense as the day wore on. There was no sign of Stetson, no indication that he would be bringing food or water or coming to untie him. Jacob hadn’t had anything to eat since this whole thing had begun, and no water since before the auction. His tongue was beginning to stick to the roof of his mouth.

He tried pacing around the pole, circling until the rope was tightly wound one way before turning and going the other way. His brain wasn’t used to boredom. There was always something to think about, always something to do. But now the only thing to think about was how absolutely screwed he was, and that wasn’t helping anything.

He tried pulling some more, too, not running this time, but turning until he could grip the rope in his hands and tugging backwards with all his might. Which, to be honest, wasn’t a lot. He was a computer geek, okay, working out wasn’t high on his list of priorities. The moral of the story was, pulling on the rope did nothing but make his back and arms ache even more.

The heat and the lack of stimulation made the day drag on and on forever. Jacob’s stomach moved from groaning to aching to roiling. If there had been anything in it, he was sure it would have been expelled. His head pounded something awful, and he wasn’t sure whether it was from heat or light or lack of water or having it repeatedly bashed in the day before.

By the time the sun finally started to sink beneath the horizon, his clothes were soaked with sweat, which was not only gross but also turned cold once night fell. He never thought that he’d actually miss the sun once it was gone. But now he was shivering, and the headache hadn’t gone away, and his stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out, and he was pretty sure there was dirt in his mouth, and he was completely, totally, miserable.

Day two was somehow even worse than the first. Jacob tried standing up and stretching his legs, walking around the pole again, but he was so dizzy that he collapsed right back to the ground. Groaning, he dropped his forehead against the pole, grinding particles of dust further into his skin.

His...dry...skin. He didn’t know much about health and science, like, at all, but he was pretty sure not sweating in this heat was not a good thing. He almost felt cold still, like the chill of the night was clinging to his skin.

Hours dragged by. Every time he swallowed, it felt like nails going down his throat. Moving his head in any direction made the world swim around him, the blinding rays of the sun making spots dance across his vision. His stomach kept feeling worse and worse until he finally ended up folding over, retching uselessly again and again until every muscle in his torso was on fire and his head felt like it was exploding.

His only vague thought was, am I gonna die? before he fell face-first into the dirt and passed out.

A blast of cold woke him. He tried to gasp for air, but instead inhaled a mouthful of freezing water, sending him into a coughing fit that racked his sore stomach muscles. But the water just kept coming. It was harsh enough that he couldn’t even sit up against the onslaught, not that he was sure he had the energy to, anyway. The spray scoured every inch of his bare skin, leaving it stinging from both the pressure and the cold.

But it was water. Sweet, beautiful water. As soon as he stopped coughing he tried his best to gulp it in, letting the cold coat his scratchy throat.

He wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved when the spray finally stopped. Bringing up weary, unbound hands, he wiped the drips from his eyes, blinking blearily up at Stetson, who dropped the hose and stared him down.

“You didn’t last as long as I had planned.”

“M-maybe…” His voice came out as a croak, and he attempted to clear it. “Maybe you should try some...food ‘nd water. Haven’t...had any of that in a while.”

Stetson continued to stare with crossed arms for another moment before walking over and grabbing onto his ankle again. “You just had your water. Maybe you can have food tomorrow. We’ll see how well you behave.”

Ignoring Jacob’s weak protests and attempts to fight, he dragged him away from the doorway of the barn and into a nearby stall. Iron bars reached from the half wall up to the ceiling, giving it even more of a prison cell feel. The only good news was that he didn’t bother to tie him up this time, just threw him inside and left, shutting the door with a deafening creak and an ominous click.

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batboyimagines · 3 years

Text

Cold-blooded part two [Damian Wayne x Male Reader]

You will want to read the first part of this! And another note, I feel it’s important to say I haven’t actually seen the movie this is loosely based off of? I only know it’s vague plot. So heads up, this will definitely be deviating from that plot!

“So first things first, I’m gonna need supplies for this.” Your dad says.

You, Dad, Robin, and the rest of the Teen Titans have regrouped in the living room. After much planning and replanning, there’s finally a plan.

“I’m going to have to swing by an old flame’s to get some extra muscle for this ritual we’re setting up. It’s not made for a single person to do.”

“My ma?” You ask. Dad makes a constipated look.

“No,” He says, “her name is Zatanna. She’s helped the Justice League before and I’m sure she’d be willing to help them now.”

“Oh, okay.” You say sinking back into the couch, arms crossed. Though you know they’re in danger, you still feel a bit weird about helping them out. It’s a bit ridiculous, only Wonder Woman and Aquaman really have ties to the gods. And Aquaman’s not in any danger, so you don’t have to worry about him.

But you know your Ma, and you know how bitter she is over what they did to her. Which is totally fair. It’s just that you’re not sure how she’d feel about you saving one of the god’s pet projects.

“... and that’s that. So, when do we need to leave?” Your dad finishes. Oh shoot, you spaced.

“It would be best if we went right now.” Nightwing replies. He pushes off the wall and his team follows suit, readying to depart. Your dad turns to you.

“Listen, bud, do you think you’ll be fine holding down the fort while I’m gone?” He asks. You hesitate.

“Uh, actually, I was wonder if... I dunno, I could come along?” Your dad reels a bit.

“Kiddo, this isn’t a safe ‘Bring your kid to work’ deal, this is dangerous. You could get hurt.”

“I know, but I feel weird hanging out here while you’re not around. And I’m a bit worried that some rando could come to the door and I won’t know what to do. Also I’m an all magic half snake being with unknown powers sooo.”

Your dad thins his lips, looking thoughtful.

“Really, Dad, I’ll be fine. I’ll stick out of the action and whatnot and if I think I’m in any danger I’ll run as far as possible.” You plead. “I’ll have my phone with me? I know how to call now.”

“... alright. But you stay out of trouble.” He relents. You push to your feet with a grin and go to get your coat.

Under your breath, you hiss, “Hell yesss.”

The great thing about living with a magic user is that they have the best modes of transport. In your somewhat short life, you yourself haven’t traveled very much. When your mother is exiled and has no way of getting off her small prison of an island, you tend to not go anywhere.

Being passed between your Ma and your Pa is a pretty recent development. This is the most traveling you’ve done in your entire life, and the option to go to different places is still a marvel to you. Really, the average person can just walk down a street, hop on a train, and go to an entirely new place, no fuss? What a concept.

An exciting, and sort of terrifying, concept.

“I’ve got a short cut to hers down in that alley,” Your father explains, leading you and the Titans through the empty streets, “though I try not to use it much.”

“Why not?” You ask from his side, shivering a little and shrinking into your coat. Though you’re thankful that early mornings mean that only the occasional jogger is awake, they are unfortunately very cold. And you are part snake. With cold blood.

“We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

“Are you sure she’ll help us?” Koriander asks.

“Oh she will, she’s not my biggest fan, but she wouldn’t leave you lot to the wolves just because she doesn’t like me.” He finally comes to a stop in front of the alley. You, more focused on not letting your teeth chatter, bump into his back.

“This is it right?” You say, muffled into the collar of your coat. Man, you wish you brought a scarf.

“Sure is.”

The alley is a dead end, entirely ordinary and bland. There’s not even a dumpster shoved against one of its grimy brick walls.

But your father walks in, as if it leads somewhere, and you and the Titans follow. As you approach the bricked end, you expect your father to do, well, something to open the wall or whatever. But no, he just walks straight through the bricks.

You blink a bit. Since you’ve come to the modern world, you’ve been getting into video games. Shitty, old video games that your Pa bought from a thrift shop in panic before you had arrived for the first time. And your father walking through the bricks sort of reminds you of when you clip through walls.

Even so, you don’t want to be left behind. So even though that looked really weird, you walk through too.

The other side is much darker, and much, much grimier. And the air is stuffier. Your eyes water and you hack a bit.

“You alright there bud?” Your Pa asks in concern, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“The air here sucks!” You wheeze, blinking tears from your sensitive eyes.

“I agree.” Robin grumbles from your side. Looks like the Titans made it through fine as well. Your father raises an eyebrow.

“This is your city, isn’t it?” He asks. His city?

“Just because I protect this wretched place, does not mean I enjoy breathing it’s polluted air.” Robin gripes. Nightwing makes an amused face at that.

“Whatever,” Pa shrugs, “Zatanna’s down this way.”

Down that way, a quaint, hole in the wall magic shop glows. Back home with Ma, your light sources are either the sun, fire, or a magical doodad that somehow wound up in your possession. So no matter how many times you see light bulbs or neon lights, you don’t think the marvel will ever wear off.

The door rings a cheery jingle as your Pa pushes it open and you hit a wall of hot air when you enter. You revel in its heat. Living with cold blood is such a drag. Sometimes you miss the warm beaches of your mothers prison, though the nights leave warmth to be desired.

After soaking in the warm air, you take a moment to survey the inside. It’s... a bit cluttered. And dusty. For some reason, magical items are always old and it seems like old things are always a little dirty.

You brush a finger on one of the wooden tables displaying merchandise, yep, that’s some dusty stuff alright. You stick your tongue out. It smells dusty too. And like books and perfume. Flowery perfume. You hate flowery perfume. You tuck your tongue back in your mouth and grimace.

It’s one of the worse human inventions. One time Dad came home from what you gathered was some sort of fling, stinking like someone’s nasty perfume. Though you sort of feel guilty for it now, you couldn’t stick around in his presence for more than two minutes.

“Zatanna! You in?” Your father calls out into the maze of tall shelves. If you’re not imagining it, he’s making his voice just that bit more obnoxious.

Robin looks at you and catches your eye. He makes a face at your father’s behavior that has you stifling a snort.

“Zataaaaannaaaaaaa, aaaare yoooou heeeeereeee?”

Wow, he’s laying the annoying on thick.

“Zataaaaaa-“

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m here!” A dark haired woman gripes as she appears through the shelves.

“Zatanna! My good friend,” your father grins, “how’ve you been?”

“Great, until you waltzed back into my life.” She says flatly.

“Good, good, anyways,” you zone out at your father says things.

You’re distracted by the displays of magical items that you’re not totally sure are real. There’s not doubt in your mind that this Zatanna lady is a magic user, she totally is, but would she actually sell magic items? That stuff is no joke, your Ma’s told you plenty of horror stories about magic gone wrong. And you fell asleep in the middle of half of those!

“See something you like?” Oh shoot, she’s talking to you.

“Uhhh,” fuck, how do you respond? Well, there’s nothing catching your eye you guess, “uhm.. no?”

“It’s just that you seem so interested in the display,” she says amusedly gesturing towards the general space you just staring at.

“Well, I was just wondering if any of this stuff is real, cause, magic stuffs... dangerous usually.”

“I have real items, but I keep those in the back. This stuff is for the common folk.”

“Oh cool.”

“So,” Zatanna turns back to the others. You take that as a sign to go back to spacing out.

Heaters are awesome. They’re the best invention of the modern world, in your humble opinion. All the hot air is coming from a vent in the wall next to you. You scooch in front of it. Hot airrr, hell yeahhh. This rocks. You could stand right here for hours.

“C’mon kiddo, we’re off.”

GOD. DAMN IT.

Dejectedly, you trudge to the open door, where your Pa awaits. Ugh, that chilly breeze is not welcoming.

#Batman #X Reader #X Male Reader #Damian Wayne X Reader #Damian Wayne X Male Reader

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