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drjholtzmann · 6 days

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this is dreamling more than dead boy detectives but it's been in my head since reading issue #25 after s1 of sandman. so, now feels like a good time to release it into the world. i just want them all to get in each others way

(season of mists spoilers)

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It’s not often that Hob smokes. It’s an expensive habit, and secondhand smoke and all that. But it’s hardly going to kill him, so he’s usually got an ancient pack on hand somewhere. Handy, especially in situations like this. Not that there’s ever been a situation like this before but, well. You live long enough.

He slips out into the beer garden of the pub, lighting up almost absent mindedly, the action still muscle memory.

“What the fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip, “what the fuck. Dream, if you have bloody anything to do with this, I swear to god, Morpheus. What the fucking fuck.” He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the brickwork. Despite it all he huffs an exhausted laugh. Because sure. Of course. Yeah, why not. Of course this would happen. “Jesus Christ, Morpheus. Even if this isn’t you, bloody… fucking wish I could just ask.” It’s all said barely above a whisper. Just in case. Always just in case. He blindly ashes his cigarette and heaves out a heavy breath, “Lord above,” he scoffs, raising the cigarette to his lips again.

“Hob?”

Hob startles, eyes snapping open, head knocking back sharply against the brick. “Fuck – ow – Dream?” He raises his free hand to rub the back of his head, wincing slightly. “That, uh… that worked better than expected.”

“You were calling for me?”

“Yeah… sorta. I didn’t… think it worked like that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You did not. I had thought briefly of you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hob grins. “How come? You miss me already?”

Morpheus sends him a withering look.

“I, um… dreamt of you. While ago. Was that – real?”

“It was.”

He nods, thumb nervously tapping the filter of his cigarette. “Uh huh. Figured. With the wine, and…” he trails off. The hollow feeling of that dream, or rather, of that waking coming back to him in full force. “You said some ominous shit. Then I said some ominous shit. Was that real, too?”

Morpheus nods solemnly.

“Right. Don’t suppose you’ll explain that?” Morpheus remains silent. “Right. Course not. Things okay, though? Now? I mean,” he gestures to his friend, “you’re here. That must be good, yeah?”

“Yes. And no.”

“Great. Fab.”

“What I thought I was facing has… changed.”

“...’kay. Well, can I ask you a question?”

Morpheus pauses but, after a moment, nods.

“S’it got anything to do with the dead kids hanging out in my pub?”

“What?”

“Yeah, couple of boys who look like they should definitely be in school – about, oh, fifty years ago. At least.”

Morpheus’ eyes don’t actually widen in alarm, but there is something to that effect happening… not quite in his expression, but in his aura, perhaps. Hob gets the feeling that if he were a cat the fur along his spine would be standing on end.

“So… it is related?”

“Perhaps.”

“Definitely, then.” Hob takes a short puff of his cigarette.

“Show me?”

“Uh… I don’t know if they know that people can see them. I don’t know if people who aren’t me can see them, actually. So just, um…” the caution dies in his throat as he realises who it is he’s talking to. Morpheus will do what he will, Hob’s advice be damned.

Dream draws close, peering in through the windowpane of the door back into the pub. “How do you know?”

“You get pretty good at feeling when things are off once you’ve been around the block six hundred years or so. Also, they walked in through the closed front door. As in, passed right through the solid wood and glass.”

“I see.”

“Why are they here?”

“To sample your fine selection of craft beer, perhaps?”

“Oh, he’s joking,” Hob has joined his side in peering not-so-surreptitiously through the door. “‘Mortal plane’ here, not here-here.”

“Death must have been busy… It is not like her to leave a job unfinished without good reason.”

“Must’ve…? What the fuck could be so horrific that Death is being kept busy?”

Morpheus, beside him, is silent. Deadly still. And it tells Hob all he needs to know.

“Dream,” he hisses, “what the fuck is this? What’s going on?”

There is a long pause. “I ought not to tell you.” Dream murmurs, still facing the glass panel of the door.

“And I ought not have two dead teenagers in my pub. All things relative.”

“They are causing no harm.”

“I don’t doubt that. It’s you I’m worried about now.”

“Your concern is of no use. What I mean is that they are no poltergeists, not aggressive, there seems to be nothing demonic about them.”

“Which means… there are poltergeists and demons running about at the mo?”

“I told you, I ought not say. There are diplomatic proceedings to take place.”

“You get that that makes even less sense, yeah?”

Dream seems to, at last, with an almighty eye roll, give in. “Hell is closed,” he hisses, turning to face Hob directly.

“Hell is closed.” Hob repeats back, dumbfounded. “And that means… The devils are all here?”

“Precisely.”

“But the boys… aren’t devils?”

“They are not.”

“Okay. That’s good news. And the devils?”

Dream shrugs, sharp and languid. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”

“Great. Okay. Less good. Very much less good. So, uh. What… do I do? Am I supposed to exorcise them? Because, I have to be honest – would really rather not do that.”

“You are under no obligations.”

“Oh.”

“They could not be here without Death’s knowledge or her say-so. She will come for them in time.”

“Oh.” Inexplicably, Hob’s heart sinks a little.

“They are not alive, Hob.” Dream says, looking him in the eye. “They cannot live forever as the dead.”

“Hm. Yeah. S’pose.” He looks through the windowpane at the two boys, chatting animatedly at a corner table out of the way. “They’re just kids, though. Barely got a normal life.”

“You cannot save them, Hob.”

“Why not?”

“You cannot. They may not be destined for Hell, but that doesn’t mean they can stay amongst the living.”

“Says who?”

“The universe. Death, herself.”

Hob smirks, tilting his head down a fraction to look up at Dream from under a quirked brow. “You know what I think of Death.”

And Hob catches the tension at the corner of Dream’s mouth that he knows, whatever he might say to the contrary, is a suppressed smile.

“C’mon, what if I just help ‘em live a little? While they’re here?”

“Hob.”

“What?! Can’t a guy be nice?”

“I have meetings to attend to.”

“That’s not a no.”

“I think it a poor choice to flaunt immortality in front of two who have died so young. I would caution against it.”

“Okay. Fuck, fair point. But they don’t have to know about me. They wouldn’t somehow know, right?”

“I would caution against it, Hob Gadling.”

#sandman #dreamling #dead boy detectives #sandman fanfic #my fic #hob gadling #dream of the endless #charles and edwin get a cameo lets say #im so excited for the show yall have no idea

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https-furina · 4 months

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“your order is complete!” this order is for @jingyuansbird:

“heyo heyo ✌🏾 congrats on 500! so, for my order, it'll be for alhaitham, size medium, with a cappuccino, soy milk, and foam please, and thank you!!!”

alhaitham x gn!reader | fluff, college!au + established relationship | 1.1k words notes. thank you so much !! i hope you enjoy your order (it should be mentioned that alhaitham despite being a previous main of mine is not one of my strong suits so i apologise if it's bad...) <3

thirsty? see our café menu before you order! | order receipts

with finals week drawing ever closer, it can sometimes feel like you're going insane with the repetitive revision and those god awful prep talks from your professors but adding onto that to make things worse, the most (seemingly) sane person in your circle really doesn't help the looming feeling of insanity. he seems to have no qualms with the endless academic revision thrown onto you for the sake of grades, his head always buried deep in a textbook that keeps him occupied whilst your friend circle do what they're best at… procrastinating.

"i'm really starting to think college isn't worth it," you mumble, highlighting another line in your notes - you're hoping the pretty colours will attract your attention more, "when am i ever going to use this in the 'real' world?"

your boyfriend makes an evidently amused noise from where he sits opposite you, his slim fingers working diligently at typing on his laptop; the one that you had snuck a cat meme sticker onto, much to his dismay but he is still yet to remove it. it is silent for a few moments save for the exceptionally fast clicking of laptop keys before your boyfriend presses the enter key, his turquoise eyes flickering up to meet your already staring gaze. you smile sheepishly and he rolls his eyes, a crack of a smile on the corners of his lips.

"we're almost finished and you're giving up now?" he mumbles back into the quiet of the library, almost filled to the brink with students and their numerous cups of coffee. you recognise that alhaitham has a point but all of this seems excessive when you glance around at all the dark circles under people's eyes, hair tied up in messy buns and stomachs full of leftover food because they're lacking time to cook. a frown adorns your face and alhaitham is quick to pick up on it, clearing his throat as he fixes his posture, sitting straight.

"it's all we've done for weeks now, haitham," you pout, jutting your lower lip out. without realising, you'd just made your boyfriend keen in a matter of seconds, his eyes quick to look away before he's caught slacking, "can we go for a walk? anywhere but… here."

alhaitham can't deny that the pair of you had locked yourselves away in the library for far too long to the point where his limbs have gone stiff and he's sure his knees might sound like he's aged beyond his years when he stands up. this means - much to his disliking - that he also cannot deny you, his darling partner, this walk you're requesting.

"alright, fine," he groans, slamming his laptop shut before he turns his body to slip the piece of technology into his worn leather satchel. he doesn't miss the way your face he adores so much lights up almost instantly, your eyes twinkling and wide, "but you have to promise to finish this chapter tonight."

you don't even reply to him under the premise that it'd be unwise for you to make a promise you may not be able to keep, not that it would be your fault. your friend group had tendencies to rope you into unwise things, to say the least. it could be any of them; kaveh, nilou, cyno, dehya… you have the inability to say no unless alhaitham is there to beat you to it. you're thankful for his input when it keeps you on the right track throughout college.

with your fingers laced with alhaitham's own, the two of you begin to make your way out of the jail that is the campus library. the spring sun beams down a hug of warmth on sumeru during these months, slightly sticky with humidity. alhaitham is always less than pleased about the heat, more so when he has tasks to do that require him leaving his accommodation. to quote your boyfriend, this weather in his eyes is good for nothing at all but here you was, removing him from the safe confides of an air conditioned building that was nonetheless silent - that's his idea of perfection! he bites back saying his complaints out loud, only because it's you.

"do we have a destination to this walk?" alhaitham breaks the silence first, slightly out of character for your boyfriend and it shows when you glance over at him in mild surprise, your eyebrows raised. he scoffs, looking away. you take this moment to trail your eyes over the beloved features of your partner from his silver locks and the pair of white bluetooth headphones that hang around his neck at all times. he never parted from them, almost like how he never parted from you.

you shake your head when you realise you never answered him, clicking your tongue to your teeth as you admire the bustle of the college campus - usually a little too crowded for your own liking but today it seemed to be just perfect, at least it lacked to feel like a sweaty tin of sardines, "nowhere in particular."

alhaitham appears to nod out of the corner of your eyes, his own gaze falling to a patch of empty grass on the green in the middle of campus. he squeezes your hand to catch your attention, beginning to lead you silently as you weave through the aforementioned crowds you'd been mindlessly watching prior. you didn't question his sudden change in directions, knowing alhaitham there was always a possibility the man had gotten overwhelmed in the current situation. he settles onto the lush grass first, pulling you down at his side due to your joined hands which only earns him a yelp of shock and a glare.

"that was unnecessary." you comment stubbornly and a small noise comes from your boyfriend as he watches you finally settle down, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh.

"this walk was unnecessary." he retorts, earning him a slap on his leg that curls his lips as he looks away, squinting to watch other students.

"it's good to get outside and feel the fresh air, haitham," you muse as your eyelashes flutter shut, relaxing as you feel alhaitham's thumb brushing over your knuckles subconsciously - this is just one of his many habits he does without realising but you most definitely notice every single one, "y'know… photosynthesis."

alhaitham scoffs, suddenly turning his attention back to you as he glances over your face while your eyes are shut. he takes in the way you styled your hair today and the minor details of your face you think nobody notices. seconds pass with no more words said before alhaitham leans to press his lips to you, catching you off guard as your eyes widen. pleased with your reaction, he pulls away with the faintest of a smug expression on his face as he dares to utter a response to your earlier comment, "love, we're not plants."

#⌞a café on the sea front !!⌝#( sealed letters )#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #https-furina

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inoreuct · 3 months

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i mean- if youre willing to write the angstier version 🥺🥺

https://www.tumblr.com/inoreuct/738704605780885504/thinking-about-zoro-being-the-crews-main

more than willing 🤭 enjoy!!

everything kind of hurts when nami comes to.

she honestly can’t tell if she’s opened her eyes or not; it’s all pitch black, and her eyelids feel gummy. the lashes of her left eye are crusted together with what’s probably the same thing making her forehead stiff, so that’s most likely blood. lovely.

the back of her skull bumps against something hard and cold with damp as she cranes her neck around, trying to get her bearings, and she can bend her wrists just enough to confirm that those are chains wrapped around them above her head. it's still too dark to see but she can smell salty air, mildew and rust, hear the vague murmur of the ocean; her body feels sore and stiff all over but she can't have been hanging here long. her shoulders haven't started hurting the way she knows they can.

something moves within the shadows ahead, and nami deliberately keeps her breathing even as footsteps get closer to her. the person reaches the wall to her left and pries something away— a plank, she realises, as moonlight starts spilling through the barred window and the face of her visitor is thrown into sharp relief.

the man is pale, slim to the point of being gaunt with a greasy, grimy quality about him; she presses her teeth together as he slinks forward and clasps his hands behind his back and cocks his head.

“cat-burglar nami,” he begins, beady eyes blinking. "tell us your plans."

her eyebrows go up in a flash, lips pinching in bemusement. getting right to business, are we? "we don't have any," she laughs, and chokes when a fist sinks into her gut.

she admits that she hadn’t expected that as she sputters, coughing as her lungs burn. people usually work up to it; a little bit more forceful questioning and a couple of threats against, say, anything and everything she’s ever loved, and then she’d figure they’d start punching. this man, or whoever he represents— they’re desperate.

and he just proves her right, god, men are so predictable. "what do you mean, you don't have any?" he spits, jagged nails digging in as he grabs her chin forcefully.

nami chuckles again, weak huffs that make her chest heave. her shoulders are starting to ache. “we see someone that needs help and we help them. we don't plan anything."

another swing, straight to her solar plexus. "where's your crew?"

"you don’t… interrogate people often, do you?” she wheezes, and holds her breath as his fist draws back again. the pain bites and then blooms across her cheek, blood-hot and thrumming like an infection, and she works her tongue between tooth and soft flesh, the pocket around her lower gums as she bares a grin and turns her head.

"where is your crew."

this time, when nami's laugh flutters from her mouth, blood goes with it. "here." she takes great pleasure at the fear that singes the edges of the man's face before he tries to blank it again. it’s not very effective. "they're here."

"impossible," he sneers. "we're on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere."

it’s false fucking bravado and it fills her with a sick sense of glee as she smirks at him through sweat-sticky lashes. "impossible's what we're best at, if you haven't noticed." she has no doubt that her nakama have already tracked her down. it’s a matter of time before luffy takes the roof off this place or sanji kicks the door down with a flaming leg.

the third possibility, well— this guy better hope it’s not zoro that comes for her.

she watches as the man digs into his pocket, his breathing harsh. “fine.” the brass knuckles he slips over his fingers gleam in the low light, a pretty polished bronze, and nami’s mouth goes dry. “you don’t wanna tell me? fine.”

all she knows for a while after that is pain. hell, she’d never even been beaten this badly under arlong’s thumb, and aside from the occasional swat to the wrist her mother hadn’t hit her either. this, though— it’s slam after slam of metal into her gut with a hand pinning her shoulder to the wall. her entire body shuts down for a moment when the hard edges jab into her liver, and she chokes back a scream when she feels her ribs snap seconds after she hears them break.

the air feels too thick when he finally pulls back, damp with her own breath, her body hot all over and shivery with pain. this isn’t an interrogation— this is someone taking out their frustrations, and it’s confusing because she doesn’t even know one, who this guy is and two, what they did to warrant such a violent retribution because, and she reiterates, she has no idea who the fuck this guy is. if it turns out that he’s just a nobody who got too ballsy she is going to be relieved but so, so mad.

her entire body’s starting to feel like one big bruise. the joints of her arms burn as she tries to lift herself up, to take some weight off her shoulders, but a cold chill settles in the pit of her stomach when she sees the glint of metal. something else, as if the knuckles weren’t enough— silver this time, sharp and liquid, and she is gonna throw luffy in the godsdamned ocean for taking his own sweet fucking time because where the hell are they.

her new personal annoyance breathes a huff of a laugh as he slowly drags the knife down the front of her blouse (and thank god she’d decided to wear one today), grazing over the shiny buttons until there's a soft snck and the dull sound of the very last one clattering to the floor. "still not talking?”

…okay, that's it. time to get out of here. "fuck you," she says loudly, turning her face towards the window so her voice carries even as she keeps her eyes on the leering bastard in front of her. hello? she wants to yell, the voice in her head steeped in annoyance and fringed in just the tiniest bit of anxiety. i needed backup in here ten minutes ago? ring ring? anyone there?

she can see the looks on her crewmates’ faces. luffy would have that big sheepish grin on, one hand pressed to the top of his hat on his head as she reams him out for their tardiness before he blames it on zoro, the swordsman looking off to the side with a hand on his hilts, in a stubborn sulk.

the knife digs into her cheekbone, grimy fingers squishing her face, and nami grins as she chokes out the first name that comes to mind, under her breath and half-mouthed. "zoro."

he's here, she's sure. her crew is already here and he’ll hear her, he always does. she can feel it in her bones, in the blood that's dripping from her chin, because zoro's never let any of them down. he’s one of the first people who had understood the weight of guilt and unwanted responsibility crushed onto her shoulders, even through her betrayal, and he’d fought for her freedom without hesitation. he won't let anything happen to her. luffy wouldn't, sanji wouldn't, usopp wouldn't— they're gonna get her out of here and then she’s gonna see these bastards burned to the fucking ground.

nami’s a pretty thing, she knows. all short skirts and slender hands and freckled skin but she packs a punch, and she can take one too. she’s held out this long and she can do longer if need be.

she isn’t afraid to ask for help anymore, either— not since then, that faraway time when she’d pushed metal through the only physical evidence of her ties to the man who she’d nursed so much hatred for, hatred that she’d turned into strength.

the man pushes her face away and the tip of the knife nicks across her skin, a shallow slice down to the right side of her upper lip and then the knife is moving, a bright flash of silver, and her voice breaks when it stabs right into her shoulder.

it fucking burns. the tip wedges between the joint, slowly snapping cartilage as the man twists it with a cackle, and she seethes through her teeth. luffy had taught her that strength was asking for help. that admitting that you need someone to save you, if only in that moment, is the bravest thing anyone could do. zoro had taught her to wield it like a weapon, to withstand the strongest of the storms of her own creation—

and she grins, now, as the blade cuts through her flesh and blood drips into her mouth, eyes wild. “zoro!”

the knife drives deeper into her shoulder, white-hot. "cry all you want. they won't get here in time."

that pain is a reminder that she is alive.

her core tenses as she kicks off the wall and drives her boot into the man's gut, heel slamming into his spleen— it winds him enough that he doubles over gasping and nami smiles painfully wide, a wild, vindictive thing. "fuck. you."

“you’re gonna regret that, bitch,” he hisses, and he’s shaking, trembling as he drags himself upright and nami knows that by the gods, he’s only human and she’ll kick him again. she’ll kick him as many times as it takes. sanji would be so proud.

she huffs a laugh, mean and low and raw as she presses her cheek against her bicep and lets her head tip down. she’ll rest, just for a little while before she gets back to fighting and clawing like a bat out of hell. something flickers at the edges of her vision, warm orange bleeding into the peripheral even through her lowered lashes and a soft, whispering crackle that carries on the breeze, smelling of ash— fire. a resounding boom shakes the walls and the man’s head snaps to the window, to say something or maybe to yell—

nami doesn’t get the chance to find out before a blade cleaves him clean in two.

the vertical halves of his body stay frozen for a split second before they slide apart and crumple into a mess of pink and ivory, slick red on the rough-hewn floor. wado gleams wickedly in the moonlight as zoro flicks the gore off her blade, shining silver streaked with the same blood that drips from the swordsman’s face.

“witch,” he grits out, eyes blazing beneath his bandana as he pushes a seething breath through his teeth, and there’s clear worry in the way he uses the side of his hand to push her sweaty bangs off her face and tilt her head up. it reminds her of her mother checking her forehead for fever, and she almost laughs. “you good?”

nami’s eyes burn as she stares at him tiredly. “no. i’m not fucking good,” she deadpans. “get me down.”

sparks shower down above her head as zoro cuts through the chain stringing her up, and her stomach swoops when she drops before an arm catches her around the waist. she cries out as it hits her ribs directly and zoro swears, his sword clattering— and then nami's world tilts as she's leaned carefully against the wall and zoro's face swims into view.

"hands out."

"what took so long?" she snaps weakly, trying to catch her breath. her hair bunches against the wet, grimy stone, and now that there's nothing to worry about she almost gags.

"they weren't completely stupid. took a while to find you," zoro grits, voice tight, before his face softens. "now put your hands out."

it's a struggle to lift them but she manages, albeit with her arms lopsided. the iron shackles around her wrists and rusted and heavy, tight enough that the skin of her wrists is itching, and her arms ache something fierce as zoro slices through the short chain connecting them and then eases his blade through the scarce gap between metal and skin to pop them open one by one.

she hears a cannon boom again. franky, probably— the walls shake and all of a sudden she’s aware of the raw relief coursing through her system, so much that it hurts, like blood rushing back to a limb. she’s lightheaded with it. or perhaps that’s… something else, she ponders faintly, as a knee buckles underneath her and zoro hauls her up before she can fall.

"just hang on, witch, i've got you,” she hears him murmur, squinting at him in the orange light as she’s lifted horizontal, an arm below her back and one beneath her knees.

her own arm flops uselessly, blood soaking her sleeve and collecting in the crease of her elbow. nami reaches up to find purchase and digs her manicured nails into the swordsman’s trapezium. "zoro."

a pause in movement as he looks down. "hm?"

she pulls herself up enough (or pulls him down enough, she can’t tell) to look him in the eye and says, low and dangerous, "i can't do it myself right now, so— give them hell, but don’t kill them. make an example of them. make them a warning.” the last word is spoken quiet enough that she can barely hear it herself, and zoro’s eyes are deadly serious. “death’s a privilege i don’t want them having just yet."

she can tell that the idea doesn't sit well with him; he bristles like an angry cat and his nostrils flare, but she knows he understands when he jerks a nod at her all the same as they step through the busted door and past piles of bodies, all the way out until they’re graced by the last smears of yolk-orange sun across the sky.

somewhere, luffy laughs.

nami shifts and as far as she can see, her crew is going fucking ham. she watches usopp shoot a man point-blank in the face with something that explodes in a shower of red dust and sends him twitching to the ground. another guy goes flying as jinbei quite literally throws him, and a whole row of goons get slammed into a crumbling wall as her captain swings his arm.

“cook!” zoro roars over her head, and it’s barely a second before sanji’s cutting a path towards them, kicking enemies out of the way left, right and centre before he stops right in front of nami.

his mouth parts in a silent question even as his eyes grow stormy blue with anger, face darkening when his gaze locks with zoro’s, and neither of them need to say anything. sanji just nods, solemn, before zoro carefully hands her off and makes sure she’s settled. wado sings as he pulls her out of her scabbard, and he’s relatively out of sight with a spray of coppery red.

nami swallows, suddenly very aware of her dry throat as her temple thumps down on his shoulder, and she gets the sudden ridiculous urge to apologise for her half-dried blood dirtying his suit.

“none of that,” he hushes, and fuck, she must be more out of it than she realised if she’s speaking out loud. sanji chuckles tightly. “you're alright, my dear. we've got you now."

she cranes her neck slightly to check her immediate field of vision, counting off mentally. "where’s everyone else?"

"taking care of things." an elegant hand appears and curls around her broken ribs, making sure they don't jostle as robin walks calmly into view. her beautiful face is serene. “they hurt one of ours. nobody except our crew is walking out of this place.”

nami blinks at her, limbs leaden, eyes narrowing with an irritated sigh as she cradles her injured shoulder against her body. “somebody better get my fucking clima-tact.”

she passes out.

the world is a soft blur when nami wakes, like she’s seeing things through dandelion fluff. or pain meds. probably pain meds. she knows she’s in chopper’s infirmary; the smell of antiseptic is painfully sterile, and she is glad of it. she vaguely remembers being carried in, sanji’s voice pitched low, someone sponging the blood from her skin as chopper’s hooves carefully prodded her torso.

the mattress dimples under her fingers and she jerks a little at the sound of slippers pattering towards her, cutting off abruptly with a yelp and a few hissed words. luffy’s hat is lopsided, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

she slips back into unconsciousness with a smile on her face.

the next time she comes too, she’s still in the infirmary. she doesn’t open her eyes just yet— soft breathing fills her ears, slightly raspy, a soothing rumble like the earth itself is shifting. she knows it’s zoro. it couldn’t be anyone else.

sure enough, the swordsman is asleep next to her pallet, squished into a chair that’s slightly too small with his arms crossed and his chin dipped to his chest.

nami coughs loudly, immediately regretting it as her chest and shoulder flares with pain, and then deciding that it’s worth it when zoro nearly tumbles out of his seat.

they stare at each other for a while. nami raises an eyebrow after three seconds of zoro being wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “how long was i out?”

the swordsman recovers himself with a swallow and a hand scrubbed through his hair. “not long. it’s the second morning after.”

she hums. “who were they?”

“a bunch of idiots who got lucky. we just jumped in and beat the shit outta them like usual.”

a muscle twitches in her forehead because god, they really were just idiots with balls too big for their pants. “and where are they?”

“marooned on that island, s’far as anyone’s concerned. luffy and franky turned their ship to splinters.” the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth is a feral, satisfied thing. “ain’t no way they’re going anywhere anyway, even if they still had a boat. probably can’t even get their sorry asses off the sand. we didn’t kill them—” he says before she can get a word in edgewise, and nami closes her mouth, “but they’re closer to death than life, that’s for damn sure.”

a second’s pause, before she deems the answer satisfactory. “the others?”

“resting. or on watch.”

and it sounds to her for once like there’s nobody rootling around in the kitchens. “awfully quiet, no?”

zoro huffs a laugh, knowing what she means immediately. “the cook told luff to keep it down.”

both her brows go up at that. their captain is not one usually inclined to keep it down. “surprised he listened.”

“he does what he wants.” zoro shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “and he wants you to get better, so he listened.”

maybe it really is the simplest thing in the world. luffy is simultaneously layers upon layers and one thin sheet. he is so much and yet still so simple in the way that he cares. nami takes stock for the first time, vision widening to encompass the rest of the room. it’s early morning, early enough that the top of the sky is still dyed dark, pale blue and pink streaking the rest. her body aches all over, concentrated in her shoulder and ribs, bandages looped in layers beneath the soft, loose shirt that she’s pretty sure is sanji’s. there are dark circles smudged under zoro’s eyes and his hair is loose. her clima-tact sits on the table nearby, as does—

luffy’s hat glows in the early dawn, individual strands lighting up like spun gold. it’s old and battered and worn thin. it makes nami’s heart feel warm.

“sorry."

she blinks, turning back to zoro to find him with his head bowed, hands clenched tightly in his lap. “…hey."

"i'm sorry," he says again, taking a deep breath that shifts his massive shoulders as he sits back. "we should've gotten there sooner. they shouldn't have been able to get to you at all—"

"hey." nami pushes a palm against the mattress to sit up before the pain makes her decide against it, grimacing. "don't be stupid. you got there before anything happened."

zoro's eyes are blazing when he finally looks up. "that's bullshit. the fact that they got you at all is—” he bites off his words, chest rising with a measured inhale that she suspects doesn’t help much. “and something happened, witch. a lot happened. you're bruised half to hell. they broke your ribs. your shoulder—"

"will be fine," she stresses, rolling onto her uninjured side to face him.

“your face.”

“superficial.” nami reaches up to press her fingers over the bandage on her cheek, feeling the silhouette of stitches beneath. unbothered by the way zoro’s seething. “our doctor’s one of the best. at worse, now luffy and i match.”

“you’re missing the point,” zoro grits, fists and teeth clenched so hard they both creak. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. nothing like this. not with me around.”

she knows her physical injuries aren’t all he’s talking about. knows he’d noticed the missing button on her shirt. knows that it’s guilt that’s eating him up inside, staining his undereyes the same purple as her bruises and putting that haunted look on his face.

nami sighs. zoro's a dumbass on a good day and he's got the emotional awareness of a brick wall, but of course he has to get this of all things.

she says it sarcastically in her head, but the thought makes her want to curl up and cry. the way he’s staring at her, wide-eyed and waiting for her judgement, makes something in her ache so fondly that she sniffs before she looks down.

he looks his age, for once. not a child anymore but also barely a man. too young to have so much weight on his shoulders, but aren’t they all? the words would be easy to say. it’s not your fault. don’t beat yourself up over it.

but mercy towards himself a language in which zoro is still not yet fluent, so for now she’ll defer to a more familiar tongue. "i'm fine. promise,” she mutters, looking down like she doesn’t mean it with everything she has. like she wouldn’t say anything to make him feel just a little better. “but you keep up with this attitude and i'll add to you debt."

he sputters, weak but still incredulous. "i just saved you, you witch."

"so?" she swallows her heart as she arches a brow. "you didn't do it fast enough. what's your point?"

"you're a tyrant," he breathes, rolling his eyes and huffing a loud breath as he looks away.

nami smirks. "a tyrant who budgets for your liquor with our beri, might i remind you. now go get your cook to make me a snack."

"he's not my cook!" zoro hisses, half in shock, getting up on reflex like a startled animal to yank the door open and storm out.

nami can’t help it— she laughs as tears spill hot down her cheeks, and she swipes them away so her bandage stays dry. it feels so good to be able to banter like this again. she hears her crew now, their voices rising and falling as zoro breaks the news, the cheers going up against the still morning air; it warms her through like fire on a brisk winter’s day. the gauze wound around her torso restricts her movement, but nami eases herself back down into the pillows with a sigh and let the noise of her nakama wash over her.

it soothes the ache. they always do.

(zoro returns within ten minutes with a slice of tangerine cheesecake and a mug of rich, creamy chocolate. sanji's drawn a spiky, frowning mossball on the top with milk foam, and she giggles when she looks up and zoro's making the exact same expression.)

(later, before the sun is even properly up in the sky, her crew curls around her in the tiny room she’s temporarily calling her own. they sit on every available surface and take up every available space, in the infirmary, in her heart; luffy’s cross-legged at the foot of the bed, beaming at her with a mouth full of chocolate biscuit. robin’s hands lift her hair off the nape of her neck. franky’s knitting some sort of sweater with yarn that’s coincidentally her favourite colour, and jinbei’s voice is deep and calming as he chats quietly with brook.

zoro stands, a silent sentinel by the door, arms crossed and brow lowered, and when she catches his eye his face softens.

“you gonna stand there all day?” she asks, brow arching in expectation, and she scoots over to make space for him to squeeze in next to sanji by her hip. their lack of squabbling does not escape her notice, but she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth— she’ll enjoy her peace and save it for another day.

and there will be another day. she’s planning on sailing with this crew for a long, long time.)

(even later, after everybody else has filed out of the room, zoro remains by her hip. his face is shadowed and unreadable.

“they should have died for what they did to you,” he says, low and soft. not tightly, no, not when she’d already told him it wasn’t what she wanted— not a protest. just a statement.

“you already bisected the one who did it first-hand,” she hums with her thumb shoved halfway through the middle of a tangerine, oil misting into the air, pith gathered beneath her nails as she pries it apart. “isn’t that enough?”

zoro doesn’t look up as he shakes his head, hands clasped in his lap, and nami feels something in her chest soften because zoro, for every good thing he is, has never been one to address how much he cares, and this— this allowance, however indirect, for her— it means a lot. it means everything.

his head snaps up with a frown as the piece of rind she throws smacks him square between the brows, staring down at the slice of fruit she offers him next like it’s something alien.

he shoves it in his mouth anyway, and she bites back a laugh.

they don’t say much more. they don’t need to.)

#well. this wasn’t as zoro-centric as it was supposed to be #more a zoro nami dynamic study. with a sprinkle of romance dawn trio #whatever it’s still delicious DINNER IS SERVED *rings bell to summon yall*#one piece #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #strawhat pirates #romance dawn trio #zosan #because there’s always zosan…#also i find it hilarious how nami’s just kind of pissed off. woman’s barely stressed bcs she knows she’ll be fine she’s just MAD #ino writes

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yesimwriting · 2 years

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could u do something about stu being sweet w the reader after something making jokes but she’s being sensitive and he realises she needs sweetness from him

ofc i can!! i love stu sm, even though the oldest daughter of an immigrant household in me would fr be fighting with him every two seconds lmao

also part 5 of final girl is coming, she's just big😭 and my homework levels are insane and i don't want it to feel rushed, and these drabbles/fics are easier to get out during weeks like this!! but i'm working!

warnings: bit of toxicity tbh (expected tho lol), mentions of Billy bc they're a matching set in my mind lol, but it's brief and his role in the relationship is pretty open I think, pinch of manipulation, cheesiness lol

----

Sometimes the way you care about people gets under Stu's skin, like a bug bite that he can't scratch because it's on the inside.

He doesn't hold it against you, or at the very least, he really tries not to. But sometimes, when you get like this on the behalf of other people...

Stu lets out a low sigh as he shoves his hands into his pockets. When he first realized that you had locked your window, he had briefly tried to not jump to worst case scenario. Maybe you weren't that mad, maybe the early fall draft kept blowing the window open, or maybe you were out with Sidney and Tatum. But no, the tightly shut window was intentional.

After knocking on your front door and being greeted by your mother, Stu had learned that you had just been in the kitchen, complaining about being bored.

"You're actually that mad at me?"

At the sudden intrusion, you snap your head back, the chair in front of your desk moving back slightly with the motion. Your panic lasts for less than a second and is quickly replaced by a small sigh and an eye roll.

"Stu, you nearly gave me a heart attack." It's not the first time that you've scolded him for that. Despite his typical energy and tall frame, he can maneuver like a cat when he wants to. "I-I locked the window, how are you even in here?"

He leans against your doorway, angling his head so that he's looking at your dresser instead of at you. There's something about your room that's just so you. It's comforting and sometimes overwhelming if he hasn't gotten off in too long.

He could spend an entire afternoon looking through your drawers and sampling your perfumes and lotions. He actually did that one Friday you slept over at Tatum's.

Stu shifts his gaze, his eyes meeting yours. You're trying to be harsh, he can see it in the slight draw of your eyebrows. It's endearing, especially with the stubborn almost pout of your lips. Sometimes when you're mad all Stu can think about is kissing you.

"Your mom told me to go ahead and let myself into your room," he mumbles, pushing away from the doorway as he steps entirely into the room, "You might be mad at me, but she's not."

Your eyes narrow a little at that. You know that Stu knows exactly what he's doing. "Well, she shouldn't have." You scratch the back of your wrist, trying your best to avoid Stu's gaze. "I'm doing homework."

"She said you were bored."

"History homework tends to do that."

Stu takes another step forward. You move your hand, gripping the back of your desk chair. When it comes to staying mad at Stu, physical distance is your only ally. The closer he gets, the less your brain functions.

"You said your history homework wasn't due until next week." Another step forward, the skin over your knuckles strains. "You can't be that mad at me." He continues to walk further into your room until he's so close to your desk chair that he has to turn his head down to look at you. "Let's just watch a movie or something. I'll let you pick."

His piercing gaze cuts straight through you. You can barely breathe. You drop your gaze in order to be able to get your thoughts out. "No, I said I wasn't talking to you."

Even in your own ears your words sound weak. Stu, already feeling his victory, reaches forward. He takes your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilting your head up so that he's inescapable. "All of this over a few things I said to Randy? I was joking, he knows I was." When your frown doesn't go away, Stu lets out a sigh, "If it means that much to you, next time I see him I'll give him a joint or something and we'll be even. Promise."

You lean back, pressing your spine into the side of your desk. "It's not really about Randy, y'know." You inhale, thinking through your words carefully. Stu takes your reproaching well as long as you don't cross any invisible lines. "You can't just say what you want about people. It hurts their feelings, and you might forget about it after a second, but that person doesn't."

Stu blinks, an oddly uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach. You genuinely care so much about how other people feel. Everyone. Even people you don't know.

Thinking about it too much makes him uneasy. It makes him feel like anything he feels for you is so much more than anything you could ever feel for him. You consider everyone's feeling, he can only bring himself to worry about how you and Billy are feeling.

He forces himself to back away from you. Stu moves to sit on your bed. Safe distance. The thought is mainly subconscious but that doesn't stop it from rolling in his stomach. He likes to think that he wouldn't actually hurt you over something this small, but he refuses to take the chance when it comes to you. Even more so when Billy isn't around as some kind of silent assurance.

"I thought that the other woman was supposed to be less of a pain in the ass. You're cute, sweetheart, but at least Tatum knows when to drop something."

Out of all the things he could have said, that stung the most. And he knows it. Your relationship exists in a world of in-betweens. You didn't like the idea of being some kind of side piece, especially the side piece to one of your best friend's boyfriends. But you guys never figured out how to stay away from each other.

Stu had spent so much time swearing to you that things were different than they looked. He promised time and time again that his real feelings are for you, that you were it for him, and that he couldn't just blow off Tatum for the sake of the group. With everything going on, with Sidney still grieving, it'd be selfish to risk it all over feelings.

By keeping your thing together secret, you were protecting everyone's feelings while still not breaking your own hearts.

But that single comment burned it all away. You were just starting to believe him, and now... "Really?" The word is pointed, but nowhere near as violent as you want them to be. "You really don't care about anyone's feelings but your own." Your eyes feel teary. "I'm such an idiot because I-I defend you when people say things like that about you, and I'm always thinking that it's just that they don't know you like I do. But they're right--you're--" None of the words that come to mind feel harsh enough, so you decide to just be honest, "You're mean."

Stu blinks as everything you've said settles into his chest. A rare, fleeting touch of a feeling some might have labeled as guilt stabs at him. He crossed a line, and now you’re looking at him in a way you never have before. And your eyes...fuck, your eyes are so wide and glassy. You're about to cry.

He had dealt with your anger before. Petty, teasing anger, sure, but still--anger. Stu could handle that. He knows what to do when you push him away and pout and even knows what to do when you curse at him. But this, this is so much worse than any of that.

You're more hurt than angry and Stu hates it. He hates that he doesn't know how to fix it. He hates that a part of him wishes that Billy was here, he'd be able to smooth this over and get you to stop looking like that.

"Not true," Stu finally manages, his voice nearly wavering at the shocking amount of honesty in it, "I care about someone's feelings."

You shift in your seat, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, your own." Stu watches expectantly as you squeeze your hands together on your lap. "You should go."

"No," Stu stands, "I'm not leaving you like this." Before you can register what's happening, Stu is by your side, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it, I just--" He can't put it into words, and even if he could, he wouldn't be able to express it to you without making you want to call a psychologist. "I'm sorry. You know how I feel about you."

With a sigh, you look up at him. "Stu, go." You stand up, forcing him to let go of you as you start walking towards your bedroom door. "I mean it. Either go or I'm going downstairs and telling my mom I have a migraine, and she'll tell you to leave."

Stu's quiet as you take another step forward. You should have taken his silence as a warning.

You're about to walk out into the hall, but before you can make it, something strong catches you by the waist. You instinctually squirm, but Stu ignores that as he forces you down onto your bed.

A small yelp escapes your lips. You hear the door to your bedroom shut before you can sit up fully. "Stu!"

He's on you in a second, trapping you so that you're forced to stay on your back. If you were struggling to think before, being completely beneath Stu has made it impossible.

Stu's hand finds your face, his thumb soothingly moving across the apple of your cheek. "I didn't mean it." That was true. Tatum is just a part of the plan now, and an occasional lay. But you--you're his first and final thought each day. You're everything, more than you'd ever understand. "You're it for me. No matter what."

You bite your tongue, fighting to not give in to the way he's looking at you. His eyes are pure adoration. "You said that before, and look at how quickly you changed your mind. Since I'm so annoying and I have no interest in being 'the other woman' as you put it, go away."

He doesn't want to talk about this anymore. It's making him feel something that he can't name. He doesn't want you to be mad or upset, he just wants things to go back to normal.

Stu slips his hand across your cheek so that his fingers can twist themselves into your hair. Before you can question him, he presses his lips to yours.

The kiss feels different than the normal way he touches you. It's persistent despite the patience behind it. The way his mouth moves against yours is vulnerable and the way he swipes his tongue against your barely parted lips is pleading.

Your hand instinctively find his chest. You push against him with lethargic force. Stu pulls your bottom lip in between his teeth. A breathy sound that's equally surprised as it is needy escapes you. He takes that as his opening to deepen the kiss.

Just as you start feeling out of breath, Stu pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. I love you.

The thought comes so suddenly Stu has to bite his tongue hard to keep from blurting it out. It's not like he's never felt that towards you, but this is the closest he's ever come to blurting it out.

It's instinct to shut your eyes as you focus on your breathing, but you can still feel his eyes on you. You feel him move, but before you can say anything, Stu starts kissing down your cheek. You don't open your eyes until you feel teeth grazing against your jaw.

"Stu." It's supposed to be a warning.

His hands move, forcing the oversized shirt you're in to ride up enough to expose your hips. Stu squeezes the newly exposed skin as he starts to kiss down your neck. "Do you trust me?"

Yeah, after the way he's been acting, there's no way you're answering that. "There's no way I'm doing anything even remotely sexual with you after what you--"

He finds that one spot near your collarbone. Your breath catches itself in your throat. Stu moves, pushing your shirt up a little more. He kisses down your stomach. You're lost in bliss until you feel his teeth sink into the soft skin of your stomach.

You nearly jump out of your own skin. "Stu!"

Grinning at your tone, he rests his head against you, chin pressing into your hip. "What?"

You're desperate to hold onto your anger, but with the way he's looking at you? It's nearly impossible to not smile. "You're so weird."

"You love it."

Pressing your lips together, you pause to think. "I love it better than you being an asshole."

Not taking the bait, Stu squeezes your hips a little firmer, "I love that smile. It's your 'you-wish-you-were-more-mad-at-me' smile. I think that that's the smile I see the most."

Fondly rolling your eyes, you casually move your hand in order to softly comb your nails through Stu's hair. This is a cute game. "I love that my anger amuses you."

"I love when you do that thing with your nails."

You finally let yourself grin. There's just something about Stu when he's like this, all relaxed and touchy and content. "I love when I can tell you're happy."

"I love you."

Your hand pauses, still in his hair. There's no way you heard that right. "Shit," he breathes, hiding his face against the fabric of your shirt. "I said that out loud." Oh my god--you did hear that right. He just said-- "I was going to be romantic about it. I was going to take you out to that one hill where you can see all the lights from town, and then we were going to go to my place. And I was going to let you pick the movie, and I wasn't going to talk about it, even if you picked that really lame one you're always talking about."

Still in total shock, you blink, stiff beneath him. "I kinda like when you talk about the movies we watch." Stu, looks up, but you don't meet his gaze. "But that's not what we're talking about, so I um--" You shift awkwardly. "Did you mean it?"

Your rush of words come out jumbled, but Stu understands them regardless. "So much. I love you, and I'm sorry that I'm an asshole, but you're not--" He lets out a breath. His silence forces you to finally meet his gaze. "If you think the friend group and Sid can handle it right now, I'll go over to Tatum's right now and break up with her."

Stu's boldness nearly surprises him, because in that moment, he really thinks he might mean it.

Everything you want is hanging there, right in front of you. Every selfish fiber of your being wants to say yes. You want to send Stu off and have him back in your arms in less than an hour. Stu can see it, but he can also see the hesitance in your eyes. After all, you care so deeply about everyone's feelings.

"It-it wouldn't be right," you whisper, more to yourself than him, "Not that any of what we're doing has been right, but that feels meaner than it needs to be. To just completely dump her on a random Saturday night without starting to pull away to prepare her first."

"I'll start pulling away." He's glad to have something productive to latch onto. He could start to pull away from Tatum (like he hasn't already with all the time he spends with you) carefully. Not enough to get her to break up with him, just enough to ease you. He could play at that game until he and Billy finish their plans. "Really laying the ground work for a breakup starts next time I see her."

You nod absentmindedly, the excitement from his confession waning fast. You're retreating into that quiet version of yourself that comes out whenever you think too much about your arrangement.

Stu leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your side. "I think I might've already started because you're all I think about."

"Shut up."

He adjusts his hold on you, "I mean it." You still don't seem too convinced. "You can scold me as much as you want about being nicer to people or anything else. I'm in love you." You finally crack, a smile playing at your lips. "Which is something I've said three times now without you saying it back."

At that, your jaw playfully drops, "Hmm...yeah, you have said it three times now. Weird."

The glint behind Stu's eyes is dangerous. He pulls himself off of you with no warning. You're too confused to do anything until you feel his hands on you. He moves his fingers swiftly, tickling you as you squeal and try to push him off. "What were you saying?"

Through fits of giggles, you manage to get out, "Th-that I'm--" You can barely breathe as you push against him. "That I'm in love with--with a--sadist."

At that, Stu pauses. "In love with, huh?"

"Unfortunately," you sigh.

Stu throws you an exaggeratedly offended look. "Rude. You're going to need to make it up to me."

Deciding to play along, you hum in agreement, "Let me guess. You have something in mind."

Stu leans down, placing a quick kiss to your lips. "You know me so well. C'mon let's go to my place and watch a movie."

#scream 1996 #scream imagine #stu macher x reader #stu macher #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #x reader

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saltydumples · 6 months

Text

Oh, goddammit, I came up with ANOTHER idea for an AU and I have NO TIME to write it so I'm just going to scribble down my notes here:

Ze is a human astronomer. He specialises in tracking constellations and planets, and mapping them out. One night whilst stargazing he notices something really weird. Like scientifically life-changing weird. Unfortunately, he never gets to share his discovery.

Chilled is the captain of the galaxy's fiercest space pirates. Or, at least, he's trying to be. He's got the ship, he's got the chaotic charm and charisma, but the crew is, well...questionable. That and the job itself isn't quite what it used to be: there are rules to follow now. And, one such rule, states that any lifeform that does not hold a universal intelligence level of at least 5 Caulks (a very precise galactic measurement not at all to be mistaken for the material used to seal joints) then they must be shielded from any knowledge of lifeforms outside of their solar system until they meet the requirement.

Chilled is a terrible pilot. Very wreckless driving - he has twelve separate accounts of wielding a plasma gun at the wheel. Against the advice of pretty much everyone else on the ship he decides to use the gravity of a small solar system as a slingshot. They're meant to be in and out in the blink of an eye but instead the engines stall and for a second the entirety of the Mungus System is on display right outside of a planet called Earth. And, after a moment, the ship's detectors show that it has not only been witnessed but recorded.

Ze is halfway through looking over the pictures he'd captured of the strange event when they suddenly disappear. Entirely. Wiped from his device - nothing to show for their existence whatsoever. So (panicking over the potential of losing the discovery of his lifetime) he starts to draw it down on a piece of paper from memory. And Ze's memory - when it comes to constellations, at least - is very good. So good, in fact, that the system in Chilled's spaceship warrants him as an immediate breach of law and does the only thing it knows how to in order to fix it: it brings him onboard.

Cue a whole lot of chaos and shenanigans - a space adventure packed with pirates, space nukes, galactic riches and a fantastic abundance of cosmic kitties. The main story will follow Ze as he tries to navigate his love for the unknown with his desire to return home.

That's pretty much the overview of the plot! I'm going to note down more stuff about characters under here:

Ze: Unwilling evidence of a universal breach in conduct. Homesick 60% of the time, curious for the rest of it. He's a fast learner and does his best to find out everything he can from everyone on the ship, even though they're pretty unwilling to teach him. Because, unfortunately for Ze, everyone low-key assumes that he's too dumb to learn it. In fact, given that the average intelligence for humans falls under universal regulations, Ze is not able to be classified as an official crewmate but rather more of a pet. However, as his time in space continues, he soon proves himself to be more competent than about 80% of the ship.

Shubble: Head engineer. This fungi-descended crewmate has a soft spot for all kinds of animals and a penchant for leaving mushrooms in the vents. She's also the second most dangerous person on the ship. She's the proud owner of a rare voidal cat called Starlord alongside her newly adopted human, Ze. If she didn't adopt Ze then she was 90% sure that some of the other crew might have eaten him.

Chilled: The Captain. Reckless and yet simultaneously paranoid; willing to accept ridiculous odds but inconsolable if one (1) space bug is found on the ship. He plans to one day commit the biggest space heist ever seen - legally, of course - and is always in search of the perfect crew to pull it off, most of the time not realising he already has it because half of the people he employs spend their days acting like they're consistently rolling critical fails.

Skadj and Speedy: Deputy Engineer and Assistant Enginer respectively. Really Speedy has the skills to be Head engineer but he turned every offered promotion down - more workload and more responsibility? No thank you. They both come from the same firey planet and have slightly draconian features - claws, tails and orange scales. They can seem a little intimidating but tend to care a lot more than they show. Fun fact: when Ze was abducted onto the ship, they were the first to suggest eating him because humans used to be an old delicacy on their planet.

Kara: Leading Medic/Biologist. One of the only people on the crew with an actual braincell, she's the main glue keeping the mess that is the crew in one piece. Half human, half snake, this space naga is not to be messed with (Chilled should know - she's threatened to crush him twice now): though kind in nature she used to work as an assassin, only switching to piracy so that she could conduct her scientific experiments legally (mostly).

Pasta: Assistant Medic. Less concerned about using shields to save people, more curious as to what they can survive while it's on. Completely unpredictable but protective when it counts, this apparent descendent of the Great Spaghetti Monster has a big heart and one of the best laughs you've ever heard. Chilled didn't so much as hire her as he did find her stowing away on his ship and deciding to let it slide. She's been a part of the crew ever since.

There are so many more people but idk how I would get through them all so I'll just leave it there for now.

Bonus fact: Ze spends 80% of his first few months in space wearing fluffy pastel onesies that Shubble buys him because until he's proven to be above the set universal intelligence level he can't legally make any purchases himself.

#a silly little ramble #there is no way I'm tagging all these people #private recording 1 #pr1 #MY WRITING IS SO INCONSISTENT #I JUST WANT TO ACTUALLY FINISH SOMETHING FOR ONCE #WHY IS IT SO HARD???

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httpseiki · 2 years

Text

skz as types of moments!!

summary: types of sweet, chill or fun moments I think the skz boys would spend with you!!

genre:

-> fluffiest fluff, I might say.

-> fem!reader x members

tw: mentions of anxiety, bit of Christmas!au

note: this is my first ever post on here, so please give me tips on how to use the app, I'm terrible. ㅠ^ㅠ

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Bang Chan - sitting in comfortable silence.

he's the one if you think sitting in silence, while both of you focus on your own work is the best way of spending an evening.

just chilling in his studio or in your apartment or in his dorm room, sitting on the bed with your laptop on your legs across each other.

silence isn't always comforting, but at the right time, with the right person, it can be very soothing.

even if you're both working on different essays, Chan would make sure to give you something to smile about; something to remind you that you're still in his presence.

that would mean he'd make a random noise just to get your attention. or he'd interlock your fingers whenever you'll be reading your masterpiece. and if you're lucky enough, you'll get a tired Chan laying his head on you.

as much as he'd like to do any other couple activity with you, being the busy man that he is, he tries to enjoy your presence right by him, even if you're not sharing a word for a long chain of minutes.

Lee Minho - feeding stray cats together.

knowing the soft spot Minho has for animals - especially cats - you always wait outside the company for him to finish his practices.

since he always got out pretty late at night, you guys found at least three kitties in need of food on your way home. so, it became like a habit.

whenever you went to pick him up, you brought some cat food in a bag as well. Minho's smile grew larger on his face whenever he saw your little tuna fish conserve in your hands.

in awe, you bent down to a baby cat who was meowing towards you. letting him open the can, you placed the fish in front of the stray animal.

with your heart shattered at the kitten's hunger, you looked back at him, asking if you can adopt her. shaking his head, Minho protested, saying that you already have 3 cats at home to feed.

pouting, you get back up and hold your boyfriend's freezing hand. his glance was soft towards you, thinking how he could deserve an angel like you. as the kitty finished eating, he picked up the can before he dragged you back home, not realising the kitty following.

Seo Changbin - collecting plushies.

as soon as your eyes landed on a vending machine, you dragged Changbin's arm towards it. smirking, he took out his wallet and inserted some coins.

after a few failed attempts, he finally hit jackpot, and won not one, but two plushies for you. smiling proudly, you hugged him and kissed his cheek.

arriving home, you rushed to cut the tags off the toys your boyfriend won for you. hugging you from behind, he asked you if you needed any help.

refusing his offer, you moved out of his grip and run in your bedroom. chuckling at your behavior, he followed you inside. placing your new friends on the bed next to the other ones, you giggled happily.

softened by your reaction, changbin pushed you into the pillows before throwing himself on top of you, kissing you.

as you laid there, enjoying each other's presence, Changbin gasped and got up, walking towards his luggage. sitting up with furrowed eyebrows, you watch as he came back with a green, dino plushie in his arms, smiling proudly.

Hwang Hyunjin - switching paintings every 5 minutes.

concentrated on finishing the tree you were picturing, you didn't notice the clock beeping, signaling is time for Hyunjin to take your place in the drawing.

whining your name, you finally looked up to see him pouting. frustrated, you gave him your canvas and took his in your hands.

you gasped, seeing the beautiful, blue flower vase painted in waterpaint. you thought how could you continue his art piece, quickly getting the idea to add a window behind it.

changing the canvases again, you notice a squirrel sit by the tree you created. as your tongue poked out, you decided to add a tree house for the small animal.

seeing the small detail you added, Hyunjin tilted his head and smiled. he continued the vase by adding multicolored flowers.

he loved doing this with you, because you never knew what the end would look like. sometimes, it would end up looking godly. other times, it ended up being random details all out of context. even if your drawings weren't the best, hyunjin still loved it - you don't need to have skills to make art, right?

Han Jisung - singing while playing the guitar.

as fun as playing the guitar can be, for you and Jisung, it can be very calming, too. it became a habit for the both of you to grab the guitar and strum it in order to shoo away the anxiety crawling up the other's spine.

with deep, small breaths, the knee you once bounced up and down slowly stopped, your eyes closing, as your brain focused on the guitar, and not on all the thoughts lingering all around.

Jisung started humming along the sweet melody released by his fingers, making you smile. you loved his voice.

giving in, both of you started singing. surprised by it, he mistaken a chord. he scrunched his nose, and sang in a higher pitch in embarrassment, making you giggle.

he quickly cleared his throat and continued to play the song. you followed his lead, and tried to hamonize with his sweet vocals.

even if your voice would have some cracks or squeaks, Jisung would watch you with soft eyes, making you blush and make a mess of the song.

Lee Yongbok - baking together for the members.

snow falling gently from the sky, Christmas music playing in the background, flour on your nose and the members dancing around the kitchen.

taking in the cinnamon smell, you hummed, while Felix tasted the batter you were both focused on preparing. scooping some on his finger, he brought it to your lips.

agreeing that some vanilla would mix well, you tried to make your way to the shelve, trying not to bump into the joyful members singing carols.

bringing the vanilla back, Felix's eyes caught your attention - it seemed the snow he was busy admiring reflected in his eyes.

placing the vanilla on the counter, you leaned in to quickly peck his lips. becoming all giggly, he gave you a peck back.

getting lost in your own little world, neither of you noticed Minho coming back with the already frozen icing. placing your arms around his neck, you swayed your hips to the slow carol. Felix held your waist and followed your moves. this might be the best Christmas ever...

Seungnim - cuddling while you read.

sitting in bed, under the blankets on a rainy day while reading with Seungnim spooning you. it couldn't get better than this.

but as you were way too captivated in your book, he was getting impatient. squeezing you, he tried to get your attention.

it was obviously a fail. whining, he pulled you while he rocked back and forth. annoyed, you told him to stop.

unwrapping his arms that were around you, making you shiver slightly, he rubbed his palms on your thighs.

getting frustrated at his actions, you turned around to ask him what he wants. his hands stopped from moving, as he pouted, as if he was about to cry.

sighing, you opened your arms, signaling for him to sit on your chest. Seungnim happily obliged, hugging your waist. now, you were holding the book with a hand and playing with his hair with the other. now, it truly couldn't get better than this.

Yang Jeongin - planning each other's outfits.

you and Jeongin are both the type to have a leaning towards fashion - always being somewhat overdressed.

and as your cousin was getting married this week, you needed a full on glamorous outfit. so, Jeongin came to the rescue!

taking a look through your closet, he asked what mood you were going for. clarifying, you said you want something unique and elegant, but not very eye turning, as you wanted your cousin to have all the attention.

a pout forming on his lips, he picked up a white skirt, alongside a lacy top. nodding your head, he also took out a black corset, in curiosity, but he decided to keep it.

making you try it on, his eyes studied every piece of your body. you shined!! coming closer to you, he kissed your cheek and gave you a hug.

showering in all the compliments and observations Jeongin added to your outfit, you became a flustered mess. playfully hitting his chest, you sent him downstairs to complete the outfit by picking a pair of shoes, as you changed back - you always loved the fits he chose for you!

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

A/N: okay this was an emotional rollercoaster as this was the first thing like this I've ever written. but I hope y'all enjoy it ㅠ^ㅠ

#skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz bang chan #skz jeongin #skz seungmin #skz lee know #skz jisung #skz minho #skz felix #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz stay

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crankycreates · 1 year

Text

Apparently I'm writing pamita now. Time someone took me out behind the shed and shot me.

Bolthole

Fandom: Far Cry 4 Pagan Min x Amita Explicit Tags: Extremely Dubious Consent, Rape/Non-con Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Whump, Pagan is Not Nice, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Pagan Min and Amita have one thing in common: Ajay Ghale screwed them both over, and now they're both on the run. Amita finds herself "rescued" from certain death by the erstwhile king of Kyrat. She might have preferred freezing in a snowdrift to being a prisoner in Pagan's bolthole.

AO3 link

~~~~~

A man is sitting on a stool, tending the fire. He’s wearing good winter clothes, jacket thrown open. A thick scarf bundled around his neck all the way up over his nose. Above it, slanted eyes, weathered brow, a short crop of black hair. The description fits pretty much any man in Kyrat.

“Where—” she tries, but it comes out a weak croak.

His eyes snap to her face. They narrow somewhat, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners. She thinks he’s smiling. “Ah! So you’ve decided to live, after all,” he says in English, straightening and clapping his hands on his thighs. “Splendid!”

She clears her throat and tries again, “Where am I?”

The man’s chuckle is muffled by his scarf. “Middle of fucking nowhere, Kyrat.” He bends over to the side, reaches for something — a log, which he pokes into the fire.

She realises she’s on edge, expecting an enemy. But if this were one of Sabal’s, surely she’d already be dead. He might not know who she is, then. Or — hope flares in her chest — perhaps he’s one of the last few loyal to her? She reins in her hope. Can’t risk exposure, if he’s not.

“Who are you?” she asks. Perhaps she ought to be more circumspect, but it’s a fairly reasonable question to ask of someone who has rescued you from certain death, if only so that you can thank them properly.

The man just looks at her for a moment, eyes once again narrowing. “Amita—” He drawls her name, makes the final syllable a syrupy caress. “I know we’ve never been formally introduced, but you can’t tell me you don’t recognise me?”

He leans forward into the light, pulling the scarf away from his face. Mouth drawn wide in a dagger-slash smirk, firelight playing over sharp cheekbones, a mad gleam in his eyes.

Amita no longer feels warm. She jerks upright when understanding hits her. Or, she tries. In the attempt, she learns two more things:

The first is that she’s tied down. Something is looped around her wrists, ankles and neck — plastic coated wire rope, she realises later — and anchored to the head and foot of the pallet (bed?), in such a way that her attempts to draw her knees up and sit upright are both cut short. The cord around her neck tightens like a noose when she strains against it, and she thumps back into the bedding, coughing, desperately fighting down the panic surging in her chest.

The second thing she’s learned is that she’s naked. The blankets covering her have slipped down from her shoulders, not quite exposing her heaving chest, and a chilly draft sweeps along her collarbones.

And Pagan Min sits on his stool, somehow managing to make it look like he’s lounging, watching her like a cat. He has propped his elbows on his knees and is leaning his chin on one fist. “Sorry about that,” he says amiably. He doesn’t look sorry at all. “Had to take some precautions. I’m sure you understand.”

#please don't kill me #pagan min x amita #far cry #far cry 4 #pagan min #amita #bolthole fic

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luveline · 2 years

Note

hi lovely, i absolutely adore your writing. would you write a little something about tasm!peter and a reader who has trouble getting out of bed? if you’re not comfortable writing that just ignore this ask, except for the part where i say i love your writing :)

thank you so much, this was such a nice request <3

You usually follow Peter into the bathroom in the mornings. When you don't, he knows it's a bad day, and he quickly finishes brushing his teeth in the hopes you can be persuaded with some affection.

"Come on, pretty thing," he murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed. He brings his hand up to your face, smooths down the stuck up eyebrows on your left side.

You open your eyes, possessing none of your usual lightness.

"Good morning," he says for the second time today.

"Morning," you say, word sticky with sleep. Heavy, each breath you take seems reluctant and exhausted.

"Do you want me to start the shower for you? No? How about breakfast?" he suggests.

"Um…" you begin, though you never finish. Peter traces a line down from your eyebrow to your ear and then back up, hoping to soothe the discontent he can see on your face, the burrow of your brow.

Then, when you look almost asleep again, he realises his mistake and reluctantly pulls his hand away. He kisses the tail of your eyebrow.

"Sorry, dove, y'gotta get up. We have so many places to be and no time," he reminds you.

You draw your shoulders in.

Like cat and mouse, Peter hopes his absence will prompt you into getting up. He gives your shoulder a small shake, says, "Come on," and then escapes to your kitchenette to warm up some porridge. It smells nice, if he says so himself.

Still you don't appear. You barely even stir. He can't hear anything, but he can smell salt.

He sends a quick email on his phone and leaves it on the countertop with the porridge even when his stomach growls, crawls back into bed by your side. He pulls your body into his chest and sighs into your hair, feeling worried for you.

"'M sorry," you whisper, sullen, a single silent tear dribbling from the corner of your eye.

"C'mon sweetheart, don't cry," he whispers back, lips touching your neck. "It's okay: you can't do it today. It's okay."

You turn slowly in the circle of his arms to duck your face into his chest. His hand hovers over your face, the barest touch of his middle fingertip ghosting over the hills and dips of your cheekbone, the well of your eye, the bridge of your nose.

He bends his neck to talk into your hair. "You wanna go back to sleep?"

"I don't wanna do anything," you confess, almost despondent.

Peter takes this in stride. "Then we won't."

He can't do anything to help you out of this place that he hasn't already done, but he can lie with you, can stay and keep you safe and warm while you recuperate.

"I'm here. Right here." He smiles to himself, grips your upper arm in his hand and squeezes. "Not going anywhere."

"Love you," you say, more breath than word.

"Love you," he says, just as quiet.

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hamsterclaw · 2 years

Text

Sketchy (Part 2)

Jungkook and you left your past lives, together. Your ex-boyfriend wants your help, and he's trying to pull you back into the life you left behind. Featuring Taehyung.

Pairing: Jungkook x F!reader, Taehyung x F!reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol gang AU, smut, angst

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Sexually explicit scenes, explicit language, criminal activity

Part 1

Part 2

Seven years earlier

Jungkook has always loved the shape of your face. When you’re together, he finds his eyes drawn to the curve of your cheekbones, the lovely angle of your jaw. In fact, he likes your face so much it took him a while to realise that the rest of you is pretty too.

He’s watching you and your father mow the lawn. Most of your face is hidden under the brim of a ridiculously large straw hat, but he can see the way your lips are set in a grim line.

You hate yard work with a passion, and he’d volunteer to help but he enjoys your disgruntlement too much.

You were right in that he does enjoy watching you suffer, just a little.

Jungkook’s pencil is moving across his sketchpad, trying to capture the exact curl of your lip, but you’re moving too fast, stalking across the yard.

He snaps his sketchbook shut just in time.

You’re standing over him.

‘Jungkook,’ you say. ‘Can you give us a hand?’

He’d do it for nothing but you’ve already assumed he’d want something in return so he waits.

‘I’ll bake those brownies you like,’ you say, hopefully.

‘Can you bring them over wearing your cat shorts?’ Jungkook requests.

You look at him, confused. ‘I don’t have— oh, you mean the Halloween shorts?’

‘Those are the ones,’ Jungkook confirms.

‘I’ve got other booty shorts,’ you offer, and Jungkook makes a mental note to remember that.

‘I like those ones. They’ll give me an excuse to call you kitten,’ Jungkook tells you. He gets up to give your dad a hand.

He doesn’t look back at you, but he knows your face so well that in his mind’s eye he can see exactly what you look like, scowling at him.

***

You stomp into Jungkook’s garage after dinner, carrying a tray of brownies.

He looks up from the engine diagram he’s studying, and waits.

You glower at him, then slip off your hoodie and baggy sweatpants.

You turn your back to him, now clad in a cropped tee and your 'cat shorts', as he so eloquently named them.

‘Can I draw you?’ Jungkook asks.

You look at him, thoughtfully.

‘You can watch a movie on my laptop,’ he offers.

Jungkook sets up his laptop, puts your brownies and phone within your reach and gets you to sit in front of the screen, legs curled up under you.

Like this, he can’t see your face, but he still likes the view.

You shimmy your hips, and he groans.

You swing your face round to face him.

‘Like the view?’ you ask, smiling at him. He rarely ever sees you look so pleased with yourself.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he tells you. ‘Stay still. I’ll be done in a few minutes.’

He pulls out his sketchpad, and obligingly, you stay perfectly still until he tells you he’s done.

You get dressed. He still can’t see your face, but something about your posture has him concerned.

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I’m not just being an asshole. You can look, if you want.’

He flips through a few pages on his sketchpad to show you.

Your wide eyes take in the drawing he’s just done, and you look up at him.

‘It’s just the shape of you,’ Jungkook explains. ‘You’re a pretty shape.’

He doesn’t know why he feels nervous all of a sudden.

You smile at him, brightly. ‘You’re a good artist,’ you tell him.

The way you skip out of his garage makes him feel a little guilty about the nude pictures he’s sketched of you that he didn’t show you. All based on his imagination, of course.

He hasn’t seen you naked. Yet.

***

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel, eyes on your surroundings. You see the man running up to your car when he’s still a few feet away.

You drive getaway for Taehyung and Jimin sometimes, in a beat-up old car that runs like a dream, thanks to Jungkook. The stickers in the back window make it look like a taxi, on purpose.

Taehyung and Jimin are in the building he’s just run out of, still.

He slams the flat of his hand against your window, and you crack it open.

‘If you get me out of here, I’ll make it worth your while,’ he tells you.

He leans closer, and you recognise him.

Lee Young Jae. He’s the prodigal son of the Lee family, and Taehyung and Jimin are here to meet him.

The Lee family run a string of nightclubs in the city, and they pay Taehyung’s uncle to provide security, or at least they should.

You think your boyfriend is a reasonable man.

There’s only one reason why he’d be running away from Taehyung.

You know Taehyung and Jimin have got each other’s backs.

You unlock the doors.

‘Where to?’ you ask, like you’re a taxi driver.

He names a place on the other side of the city, and you set off.

You drive fast, but carefully, and as you cross the bridge that divides the city, you feel his eyes on you.

‘What’s your name?’ he asks.

‘Y/N,’ you reply, eyes on the rearview mirror.

‘I’m Lee Young Jae,’ he tells you. He watches you for signs that you recognise his name, but you just snap your gum, bored.

‘Hey, stop here,’ he says, a few blocks away from where he told you to drop him off, initially.

You stop on a quiet street.

His elbow flashes up to your face, and you jerk your head back, just in time. The back of your head hits the window, and you’re a little dazed, but you keep your eyes on him.

Taehyung, in his infinite wisdom, taught you a few fighting tricks when you first started driving getaway for him and Jimin.

Your open hand snaps up, making direct contact with his nose. His head snaps back, and your other hand slams into his throat.

You grab the blade under your seat and press it to his throat. He doesn’t need to know it’s a rusty box cutter you used to use for art projects at school.

He stares at you, eyes wide.

‘You said you’d make it worth my while if I helped you. Instead you tried to attack me,’ you say, voice low.

‘Now say you’re sorry and I’ll let you go.’

You press the blade a little deeper into the side of his throat, under his jaw, and he trembles.

‘Sorry,’ he chokes out.

‘Pay Kim Taehyung, or I won’t feel so generous the next time we meet,’ you say.

You unlock the doors and reach behind him to open his. He spills out onto the street, and you pull the door shut and drive off.

***

Rumours of your ‘attack’ on Lee Young Jae spread, and before you know it you’ve earned yourself a reputation as Kim Taehyung’s beautiful but unhinged girlfriend.

Taehyung just laughs about it.

He was livid when he heard what Lee Young Jae tried on you initially, but his anger faded to an odd sort of pride when he found out you’d used moves he’d taught you to defend yourself.

You move in with him and Jimin when you finish your diploma. You’ve got a job as a hostess in a three-star hotel downtown. It doesn’t pay much, but with a cut from your side gig as a getaway driver, you get by.

Taehyung and you settle into a routine of sleeping in the day, working at night. You’ve never lived with a boyfriend before, and the novelty of fucking anytime you want has yet to wear off.

Taehyung kisses his way down your torso. You’re propped up against a mound of pillows, giving you an incredible view of his muscular back as he presses his face between your legs.

The tiger tattoo over his shoulder blade ripples as he raises himself up on his arms.

‘You’d look beautiful with a tattoo, right here,’ Taehyung tells you, stroking a finger under your breasts.

You scoff. ‘Maybe I should get one on my ass because you’re always staring at it anyway.’

Taehyung chuckles. ‘I love the idea of you with a big fuck-off tattoo. Maybe of my face so other men will have to look at me when they fuck you.’

You laugh, amused. ‘Who are these other men who are fucking me?’

‘No one,’ Taehyung says, possessive.

‘Maybe a tiger,’ you muse, thinking about it.

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. ‘You know it’s a Kim family symbol.’

‘Am I not allowed?’ you ask.

‘I’d be honoured if you got a tiger inked on you,’ Taehyung tells you.

‘Maybe I’ll just get your face instead,’ you tease.

Taehyung slaps your ass. ‘Come on, let’s fuck. I have somewhere to be.’

You roll your eyes. ‘If you’re too busy…’

‘I’m never too busy for you,’ Taehyung says. ‘I’m just saying I want to make you cum at least twice before I go.’

‘Let’s go, lover,’ you say.

Taehyung laughs, lowering his mouth to yours.

***

Taehyung and Jimin are discussing his uncle’s new restaurant. You tune out and busy yourself doing the washing up from dinner.

Taehyung made dumplings, he’s a good cook, but he’s pretty messy in the kitchen.

You tune back in just in time to hear Jungkook’s name.

‘Jeon Jungkook?’ you ask.

Jimin nods. ‘Yes. He’s great with cars, and I’ve heard he’s a useful person to have in a jam.’

‘You used to live next door to him, didn’t you?’ Taehyung asks. ‘How loyal is he?’

‘I’ve known him since we were kids. I’d trust him with my life,’ you say, simply. ‘That doesn’t mean he’d be loyal to you, though.’

‘Maybe you should approach him then,’ Jimin suggests. ‘We need him for this upcoming job.’

You look at Jimin and Taehyung. ‘He’s a good guy. I don’t really want to drag him into this.’

Taehyung’s eyes are on you. ‘We wouldn’t be dragging him into anything – he’s got his own reputation.’

You raise an eyebrow. ‘What kind of reputation?’

‘He’s got a side business taking apart stolen cars for parts,’ Taehyung says. ‘He’s not the innocent baby you seem to think he is.’

You laugh. ‘He’s not a baby.’

‘How do you know that?’ Taehyung asks, and his voice is quiet now. He looks at you intently.

‘I’ve lived next door to him most of my life,’ you say. ‘All my friends had crushes on him in school.’

Jimin gets up to pour himself a drink.

Taehyung looks at you. ‘Just ask him, Y/N. He can always say no.’

***

You visit your parents for dinner and stop by Jungkook’s garage with a slice of the cake you brought home.

He’s at the desk in his garage, frowning over another engine diagram.

‘How’s your bike coming along?’ you ask.

In amongst all the chats about bike parts, you’d managed to absorb enough to know he’s working on a Kawasaki ninja, building it painstakingly, part by part.

Jungkook looks at you, and a smile tugs at his lips.

‘Look who’s here. The dangerous Kim girl.’

His voice is sarcastic, slow.

You sit down on his sofa, tucking your legs under you.

‘Lee Young Jae had it coming,’ you reply. ‘He tried to attack me. I was only defending myself.’

Jungkook turns his chair around to face you.

‘Did he hurt you?’ he asks. There’s an odd note in his voice, one you haven’t heard before.

‘Only my pride,’ you say, dismissively.

You stretch out, looking at the ceiling. You nod to the slice of cake you’ve left on his worktable.

‘I got you cake.’

‘Feed me,’ Jungkook says. He lifts your legs up and seats himself at your feet.

‘I told Taehyung you weren’t a baby,’ you muse, sitting up and feeding him a spoonful of the cream cake you brought him.

Jungkook smiles at you. ‘I’m not a baby,’ he agrees. His tongue flicks against a dollop of cream at the corner of his mouth.

You stare.

Jungkook takes the spoon from you and offers you the cake.

You part your lips automatically for him, and his eyes darken as he watches you swallow.

The way he’s looking at you is making your panties damp.

‘Taehyung and Jimin wanted me to ask for your help with a job they’ve got coming up,’ you tell him.

Jungkook swallows another spoonful of cake, throat working.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I heard.’

You put your hand on his arm. ‘I told them you’re a good guy and that I don’t want you to be dragged into this seediness.’

‘What about you?’ Jungkook asks. He’s looking at you intently, cake forgotten.

‘I’m fucking Kim Taehyung,’ you say flatly. ‘I’m in it.’

Jungkook sighs. ‘Thanks for looking out for me,’ he says. ‘And for the cake.’

You nod and get up. ‘How’s the sketching coming along?’ you ask, tilting your head at the sketchbook on his worktable.

‘Yeah, good,’ Jungkook says, straight-faced. ‘I’m working on nudes now. Want to pose for me?’

You laugh. ‘Maybe another time.’

Jungkook watches as you walk out of sight, until your shadow fades from view. He keeps staring at the entrance to his garage long after you’re gone.

***

The job with Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin goes well. Even more remarkably, Jungkook, Taehyung and Jimin get on like a house on fire. Soon Jungkook is a fixture in your shared house.

You get back from work at midnight one night to find Jungkook playing video games in your living room.

‘Drink?’ you offer.

Jungkook barely glances up. ‘I’m waiting for Jimin and Taehyung, we’re going out.’

You pour yourself a glass of water and stand at the kitchen counter drinking it.

You slip off your shoes and go upstairs to the bedroom. You’re unbuttoning your shirt when there’s a knock at your door.

‘Yeah?’ you call.

Jungkook pokes his head around the door. For a moment he stares at you, at your half-unbuttoned blouse.

You pull the two halves of your blouse together and stare back at him.

His lips twitch.

‘Tae says you’re thinking of getting a tattoo,’ Jungkook says. He gestures to his own chest. ‘I can take you to my tattoo artist. He’s excellent.’

As if to illustrate, he pulls back the sleeve of his shirt, and you see he’s added more tattoos since you last saw his bare arm.

Your fingers trace over the black swirls over the inner part of his upper arm.

Jungkook tilts his head down to you.

‘I’ve got more on my chest,’ he tells you.

You look up at him, and your lips are so close you freeze.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, quietly.

Jungkook’s lips brush yours for the briefest of moments, so brief you almost think you’ve imagined it.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

The front door slams open, and you take a step back.

‘This weekend?’ you ask, glad that your voice is almost normal when it comes out.

Jungkook nods, closing the door behind him.

***

It turns out that one’s ribcage is one of the more painful places to get tattooed.

Jungkook’s right though, his tattoo artist, Jin, is excellent. He’s meticulous about the design and the placement, and is attentive, suggesting breaks even before you realise you need them.

And then there’s Jungkook.

You’ve never seen this side of him before, more used to suggestive comments and a pained tolerance of you as his neighbour.

He accompanies you for all three sessions with Jin, sitting quietly in a chair, sketching, but also fetching you water regularly and sometimes chatting with Jin. He doesn’t mock you, not once.

Your tattoo is beautiful when it’s finished, a graceful tiger that curls just under your left breast and down your torso.

Jungkook stands behind you, looking at you in the mirror as you thank Jin.

‘You ok?’ he asks.

‘Yes,’ you say. You look at him in the mirror. ‘Thanks Jungkook,’ you tell him.

He wraps your oversize hoodie around you from behind, helping you slip your arms into the sleeves, then zipping it up for you.

His arms stay around you for a moment, and he drops a kiss on the top of your head.

Apart from the brief kiss at your shared house with Tae that you still aren’t sure if you imagined, he’s never kissed you before.

You turn in his arms, and cup his face in your hand. He leans into your touch.

Outside, the woman behind the counter waves you off when you go to pay.

‘It’s taken care of honey, Jungkook paid for you.’

Your eyes fly to Jungkook’s.

‘I can’t let you pay for my tattoo, Jungkook,’ you say. ‘It’s way too much.’

Jungkook shrugs. ‘Take me to dinner.’

You take Jungkook to a noodle bar that serves the best cheap sake in town. You’ve never met him before, but drunk Jungkook is cute, whiny in an adorable way, tattoos and muscles notwithstanding.

You giggle, curling under his arm to support him as he staggers a little leaving the noodle place.

He leans on you.

‘You’re not that drunk, are you?’ you ask, suspiciously.

Jungkook pouts at you. ‘I’m only a little drunk,’ he tells you.

‘Then why am I carrying you?’ you ask. You’re a few blocks away from home, and he’s heavy.

Jungkook peers down at you. ‘You’re too little to carry me,’ he agrees.

You roll your eyes. ‘I’m not little, you’re big.’

Jungkook looks pleased at that. ‘Only because you keep feeding me,’ he says. He actually looks accusing for a minute, and you burst out laughing.

‘Come on, big baby,’ you say.

Jungkook starts singing when you’re a block away from your house. His voice is pretty, silvery, and it’s a song you know. He’s good.

‘Shhh,’ you say, as you reach your street. ‘People are sleeping, Jungkook.’

‘There’s worse things than getting woken up by my voice,’ Jungkook says, petulant.

You giggle again. ‘You’re fun when you’re drunk, Kook.’

You leave Jungkook on your sofa and go to get him some water and blankets.

You peek into your bedroom and realise Taehyung is out.

You make up the sofa for Jungkook, tucking him under the covers, and you’re about to go up to bed when he reaches out a hand.

‘Cuddle me,’ he says.

‘Just for a minute,’ you say, slipping under the covers with him.

He curls an arm around you, mindful of your tattoo, and falls promptly asleep. Within a few minutes, you are asleep too.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re a little disoriented.

You sit up, pushing the covers aside.

Jungkook hands you a glass of water. ‘Here,’ he says.

His hair is messy, but otherwise he looks none the worse for wear after your drunken night out.

You drink your water, and your gaze falls on the sketchpad he has left open on the coffee table.

‘Drawing me again?’ you ask.

Jungkook smiles a little. ‘Can you pose for me?’

You sit up, pushing your hair out of your eyes.

Jungkook looks at you for a moment, then his hand tugs at the zipper of your hoodie.

You watch as the zipper slides down, baring your chest. He stops when he reaches your navel.

You look down at yourself. Like this, he can see the middle of your torso, but both your breasts are still covered.

Jungkook pulls one side of your hoodie aside, and your right breast is bared.

You’re not looking at yourself now. You’re looking at him.

He sits back, and picks up his sketchpad.

He starts to draw.

You use the time to admire his face, the way his brows draw together, the slight pout to his lips as he concentrates.

You shift your legs. His eyes meet yours.

You slip a hand into your jeans, under your panties. You’re soaking wet. You bite your lip at the pleasure of it as your fingers stroke over your clit.

Jungkook’s pencil snaps in half.

‘Show me,’ he says, voice husky.

You push your jeans off your hips and spread your legs for him.

‘You show me too, Jungkook,’ you say.

Jungkook’s eyes don’t leave yours as he pushes his sweats down. He’s hard, rigid, and he gives himself a pump as you admire him.

‘Do you ever think about me when you’re doing that? Touching yourself?’ he asks.

You moan quietly.

‘Because I think of you,’ he tells you. ‘I think of you coming undone on my cock, under my mouth, on my fingers.’

‘I want to fuck you so damn much,’ Jungkook says.

You’re stroking faster now, and you know you can both hear how wet you are.

Jungkook strokes himself to the sound of your moans, using his precum to lubricate the slide of his hand over his cock.

‘I’m gonna cum, Jungkook,’ you cry out.

‘Show me,’ Jungkook groans. ‘Show me what you look like when you cum.’

You orgasm around your fingers, panting, moaning for him.

Jungkook shuts his eyes as he cums, spurting all over your spread pussy.

‘Fuck,’ you say, breathless, falling back onto the covers.

‘Fuck,’ Jungkook echoes.

He lays beside you for a moment.

‘I’ve got more where that came from if you need to moisturise your tattoo,’ he says.

You groan. ‘That’s disgusting. I’m going to tell your mom, Jungkook.’

Jungkook just laughs, and after a moment, you’re laughing too.

©hamsterclaw 2022

#bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut

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braunbakery · 3 years

Text

meet me at our spot (1)

☞ eren jaeger x reader [fem bodied] [chapter word count: 1.5k]

☞ sfw, fluff, mild angst, modern au, short fic, other characters present

fic plot: before high school, you and eren were best friends. after high school, you and eren are strangers still grasping at those same past threads.

inspired by meet me at our spot by the anxiety

next.

1. i’m not getting younger

it’s when you see eren have a small kickback after graduation through your bedroom window that you know you’re going to go back up to the treehouse.

it feels dumb that it had taken that long and it was that specific and pretty unsurprising straw that had led you to realise that, fuck, there is no small withering hope that maybe the two of you could go back to old times again.

there was something about the green and white graduation gowns sauntering around eren’s back yard that made your stomach turn, that made you realise that after middle school, small nods of acknowledgment and maybe a spare smile were all you were ever going to get from eren. even if you were neighbours or childhood friends or whatever string you thought would always remain between the two of you.

so you decide that night that you’re going to wake up the next morning and make the trip to the treehouse between your yards. you had stuff from years ago to get, and what better way to say goodbye to this part of your life than to pack it all up?

so why the fuck is it that at ten in the morning, after finally making your way up the dusty ass ladder to the treehouse, you’re met with eren bent in front of a box in the small wooden room and violently rummaging through it. you consider turning back around but he’s already craning his head back when he hears your heavy footsteps on the creaky floorboards.

“shit, hey,” he says, twisting his whole body to face you and standing upright. you don’t want to feel resentment towards him, but you can’t help it when he gives you a small smile like the two of you haven’t properly had a conversation since fucking middle school.

“hi…” you say carefully, “what are you doing here?”

eren laughs before he even makes a joke. you had forgotten that about him, “i mean, this is my treehouse too.”

“right.”

you don’t think you’ve stood in front of him for this long or this close in four years. and you knew he’d grown out his hair, so you don’t know why you can feel your eyes widening when you realise he has it tied up in a bun. eren cocks his head at you.

“you good?” he asks, pulling you straight out of your thoughts.

“right,” you repeat again, “well, i’ll just go then…” you start turning back around. childhood memory decluttering can wait.

“wait,” eren calls out to you and you freeze in place faster than you’d like to admit, “you don’t have to.”

“uh…”

“you’ve got stuff here too, right?” eren asks.

“yeah, i’m pretty sure anyway.”

you both shift awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“so you gonna get it?” eren cuts through the thick silence.

you blurt out a hurried ‘oh yeah’ and shuffle towards the side of the room he stands on, walking past him and crouching down to the same set of boxes he was rummaging through when he walked in. your hands freeze when crouches down next to you and his knee accidentally knocks into yours. what are you expecting? this place is tiny. you know this and you know that he’s just here to kill time probably.

you pretend to be intently looking for nothing in particular, sifting through scrap books and drawings and home-made keychains (and a box of dried paints and play dough? alright then.) maybe eren will get up and leave with whatever it is he wanted and you can be left in peace.

for someone who had spend the last couple of years wondering when he would speak to you again, you sure were in a hurry to get rid of him.

it’s just…awkward. and you’d rather avoid awkward.

“hey,” eren says, nudging your arm with his elbow. his touch makes you immediately jerk your head towards him, heart pounding, “check this out.”

before you can say anything eren is passing you a dusty photo album, his fingers slightly brushing over yours when he pushes it into your arms. you open the first page and there you and eren are, hanging off of the same tree you sit on now eight years earlier.

“i completely forgot about this,” you say quietly, flipping through more and more pages of you and eren and other people the two of you played with.

“yeah,” eren laughs curtly and you can feel his gaze on you. you can feel him watching you flick from picture to picture, and you think that this is starting to seem a lot more like before high school, “pretty sure we insisted we keep it here.”

“you sure that wasn’t just you?” you look up at him grinning and you’re so acutely aware of the way your nerves are starting to trickle away from you and for some reason you’re relieved.

“hey,” eren feigns offense, snatching the photo album up from your hands, “you used to be just as bad as me before you became all goodie two shoes in middle school.”

you laugh at his defensiveness, grabbing the photo album in his hands and attempting to pull it back to your lap, “i think that’s called growing up, eren.”

eren’s grip doesn’t relent, so you pull harder and harder at the photo album. his eyes look straight at you, teeth gleaming with that same cheshire cat smile from when he was a kid.

“you can do better than that,” eren teases when you fail to loosen his grasp on the album.

“fuck you,” you say, donning the same grin as him as you give the photo album one final pull. and suddenly eren’s grip is completely gone and you’re being sent backwards until your head hits the floorboards and you’re staring at the ceilings. you only realise eren has scrambled on top of you when his eyes enter your vision.

“shit,” eren exclaims, grabbing your upper arms in an attempt to pull you back upright, “sorry, i didn’t think you’d go fucking flying back.”

as eren pulls you back up the stray pieces of hair at the front of his head lightly brush against your face and you recoil at the tickling sensation. eren laughs at you.

“your hair is too fucking long,” you comment when you’re sitting back upright across from eren.

“oh really?” eren raises a brow, “there go my rapunzel plans.”

“yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at him and try to ignore the way your heart races when he chuckles again.

bzz bzz bzz

both of your eyes dart down to eren’s glowing pocket, and he immediately fishes out his phone and puts it up to his ear.

“hello?” eren speaks to the person at the other end of the phone. you watch him carefully, mentally tracing out all the new scars and bruises and wrinkles that mark his face now that hadn’t before. his brows are bushier, his under eyes slightly darker, and you think you can make out a hint of stubble. for some reason it just makes the feeling of loss that had always dawned upon you whenever you walked past his house, or past his lunch table, or past him come back to you.

why are you hoping you see him again after this? it’s over now. you both have your own lives. you’re both off to college after this summer. 4 years don’t disappear just like that.

“yeah, i’ll be there soon,” eren says before hanging up the phone and shoving it back in his pocket. he gets up off of the floor of the treehouse, looking down at you with an apologetic smile. why is he sorry? he doesn’t owe you anything. you don’t want him to owe you, you want him to want to hang out with you out of his own accord, “i’ve gotta head out.”

“yeah, see you then.”

“you staying here?”

“yeah.”

eren nods his head at you before making his way towards the ladder outside the treehouse. you can hear the creaks of the first few steps.

“hey!” eren calls out, and your head is jerking up again, meeting his eyes as he begins his descent down the ladder, “i’ll see you around, yeah?”

you smile and nod, “yeah.”

the disappointment sets in when you see him walk back towards his house. you wait until you hear him start his car engine and watch him pull out of his driveway ‘til you climb back down and make your way back inside your house.

you wanna say that this sucks because you were only just starting to get over the loss of one of your best friends. and then you had to see him and laugh with him and talk to him.

but you know that the truth is that it just cruelly reminds you of how you’re very much still not over it at all.

taglist;

@sashabrausbrainrot , @saramelcky , @chawyn , @xadist , @dai-tsukki-desu , @queen-flower

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#aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fic #snk x reader #snk fic #aot #aot sfw #eren fic #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #eren angst #aot modern au

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

ブン-ブン

(Here’s my Yandere Bunny Polnareff x Female Reader story :))

Sorry if this is too OOC or too fast paced! I tried my best, but I’m unhappy with the result.

TW: !Noncon!, Pol is a hybrid!, breeding kink!, cumflation!, !!!HOMIE PISSES ON YOU (this is not really a kink, just animal instinct)!!!!, alludes to cat violence (Not you)!!, marking (rubs his scent glands on you)!, overstim!, etc..)

Please proceed with caution!!)

Hearing a loud yowl from your backyard, you hurry towards your back doors. It seems your tabby cat, Garfield, has gotten himself into some trouble.

Clicking your tongue to gain his attention, you unlock the French doors, flinging them open.

You only allowed the fatass outside for a few minutes! How is he already into something he shouldn’t be in?

Stepping outside, your eyes are immediately drawn to a mass of white and orange. Your cat is currently wrestling with the biggest rabbit you’ve ever seen.

It’s the same size as your fatass cat, hell, maybe it’s bigger! Its head alone is larger than your fist!

Its ears are currently being gnawed on by your feline son, specks of red dripping from the bun’s white coat. Garfield is nailed in the side with a powerful kick, causing him to yowl once more. Seeing this, you snap out of your shock, immediately hauling it towards the fighting duo.

“Garfield, stop it! Leave that bunny alone!” They pretend they can’t hear you, and continue to brawl. Once by the two, you yoink them up from the lush grass, separating them by holding them in opposite hands. You’re grabbing them by the scruff of their necks, frowning at them, “Alright, break it up!”

Your cat takes a couple swipes at the rabbit, the rabbit tries kicking at your cat, both of them ultimately missing one another.

“Would you two stop it?” You huff, pouting cutely. The bunny is a lot heavier than you originally thought, forcing you to readjust your hold on it, “Do you see how dumb you look? You’re both fighting the air!”

Garfield hisses in response, causing you to roll your eyes. At least the rabbit has better manners than him.

“Fine, whatever. We’re going inside now, so I can patch you hooligans up. You both better both behave.”

Turning on your heel, you stomp inside, wounded animals cradled to your (bountiful/small) chest. Both of them calm once in the crook of your arm, allowing you to have a moment of peace.

Great. Now you have to patch up your asshole cat and his rabbit friend.

Bringing them into your master bathroom, you set them on opposite sides of your two sink vanity. Opening the vanity’s middle drawer, you quickly grab your first aid kit, and lay it between the two annoyed animals.

“Alright you two, if you can’t get along, don’t go near one another. Stay on opposite sides of the sink, okay?” You keep talking to them as if they know what you’re saying, and unbeknownst to you, a certain rabbit finds it endearing.

Popping open the box, you withdraw white wrappings, q-tips, and hydrogen peroxide. Twisting the cap open on the peroxide, you set it on the countertop, before pouring a capful of peroxide into it. Grabbing your cat’s shampoo from underneath the sink, you turn on your sink’s tap, filling it with warm water. Once done, you slowly approach the nervous bun.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to bandage your wounds,” Its nose twitches, seemingly sniffing out if you’re a threat. After a tense moment of silence, it makes itself look as small as possible, showing submission.

Giggling quietly, you pick it up, and place him in the water. Its head and ears are above the water, keeping them from becoming wet. Dipping your hands into the water, you smooth down its fur, slightly wetting the top of its head. Once done with that, you pour soap into your palm, rubbing your hands together.

Now that your hands are sudsy, you start to bathe the calm bun. Its blood quickly washes off, cleaning its wounds.

Once clean, you pick it up, placing it on a hand towel you got from beneath the sink. You dry the bunny off, making sure his ears are completely dry, before dipping a q-top into the peroxide, and cleaning out his wounds completely.

After seeing his wounds, you realise he doesn’t need any wrappings, thus leaving you to set him on an old t-shirt that’s sitting on your tub’s ledge.

“There you go, Bun Bun. Sit there until I finish with Garfield,” You unplug the sink on the bun’s side, and move towards your seething cat. Drawing him his own bath, you clean out his wounds, and give him many kisses, “Good boy, Gar. I’m proud of you for not scratching me.”

He meows in response, allowing you to dry him and fix his wounds.

Now that the two animals are clean and no longer have raw, open wounds, you pick them up, and move towards your living room.

Setting Garfield on the left side of the couch, you move towards your back door.

“Okie dokie, now that you’re all clean, you can go home now! I’m sorry that Garfield was mean to you.”

Opening your back door, you gently place the bunny on the ground, before going inside, and locking the door behind you.

Little did you know that that bunny wasn’t truly a bunny at all, but a man who’s severely touch starved.

And, is a man who’s completely, totally in love with you.

When Polnareff returned to his burrow, he was practically shaking with excitement. He’d found his mate!

Once laying down, he could hear his leg thumping with happiness. He can’t wait until you go into heat!

Then, the two of you can have cute kits! He just knows that they’ll be beautiful, just like their mother…

Oh yes, once you go into heat, he’ll be there to keep you satiated.

He just needs to make sure that fat cat stays out of his way.

Garfield lays on your tummy, practically smothering you with his weight. Looking down at him from your lying position, you roll your eyes, “You’re so heavy! Move off of me!”

He ignores your whining, nuzzling against the area above your uterus. Huffing in annoyance, you pick up the snoozing cat, and walk towards the kitchen. The little shit wouldn’t let you move for hours, and you’ve become rather hungry.

Once in the kitchen, you set him on the counter. He stretches dramatically, before rubbing against you like a madman. His hackles are raised, yellow eyes transfixed on something outside.

Looking out at your backyard, you see a certain giant rabbit. Sighing, you choose to ignore your pet’s dick measuring contest with the bunny outside.

Pulling out (microwavable food), you quickly open its packaging, and chuck it into the microwave. Pressing in the time, you rest against the counter your cat is standing on, petting down his raised hair.

“Garfield, you’re honestly acting ridiculous. The rabbit isn’t scary-” The orange fiend jumps into your arms, furiously rubbing himself onto you. He’s cuddling you like a good boy, stopping you from scolding him, “Awe, you’re so cute when you’re clingy and not biting my shirt sleeves.”

He lets out a small hiss, but stays in your arms willingly.

His yellow eyes are trained on the bunny, practically taunting the other male.

Polnareff is seething. How dare that undeserving feline take his rightful place? How dare that fucking cat scent you during your heat?

It takes everything in him to not crash through the window and beat the cat into the ground. But, he knows his nightly bathroom break outside will be soon, and that’s when he can strike.

The blue eyed man watches you eat, happy that you’re preparing for your upcoming heat. Ignoring your pet, Jean feels happiness overtake him. You must know that he’s watching, if you’re eating such fatty foods.

Little does he know, that’s just the normal way of human life.

You continue to chow down on your yummy food, a smile on your pretty face, none the wiser to your hybrid stalker.

Once finished, you let Garfield out into the backyard, “Don’t cause trouble with that rabbit, Garfield.” He didn’t listen to you, and ran in the direction of that damn white rabbit.

You pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance, but do nothing. If he wants to fight with it, that’s on him at this point.

Sitting on your couch, you turn on your TV, flipping channels until you land on a forensic science TV show. Leaning back, you recline yourself into a comfortable position.

You sit in that position for about an hour, before you realise your cat never came inside. Shooting to your feet, you rush outside, turning on your phone’s flashlight.

“Garfield? Garfield?” You call out, searching through the bushes, and clicking your tongue to grab his attention.

He doesn’t come, causing you to panic. Garfield and you grew up together, and you can’t remember the last time you went without him.

“Gar-Gar? Please, please come home!” Tears well up in your eyes, as a sob escapes your throat.

As the first tear falls, you feel someone grab you from behind, “Why are you crying, Mademoiselle?”

You jump a mile off of the ground, and stumble, almost falling face first into the grass. Whipping around, you come face to chest with a very naked, very large man.

“Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in my backyard?” Your scent is thick with fear, and your voice trembles. A saddened feeling pools in Jean’s heart; he didn’t wish to scare you or hurt you in any way!

“Do not fear me, My Love. I am Jean Pierre Polnareff, your future mate!” Blanching at his statement, you finally notice the very apparent white bunny ears on the top of his head.

“What. The. Fuck.”

With that, you turn, and haul ass into your house. His heavy footsteps are heard behind you, same with a few pleading words for you to come back.

Once inside, you slam your French doors closed, and use your body weight to hold them shut, as you try to lock them. His built frame slams into the doors behind you, using all of his strength to bust inside.

“There’s no need to be afraid! Just open the doors, My Heart! I’ll treat you well!” Your nimble fingers try to turn the lock, but the constant shaking of the opening makes it very hard to do so.

“Leave me alone! Did you do something to my cat? Because the moment you showed up, he disappeared!” Immediately, the doors stop shaking, allowing you to lock them.

A long beat of silence follows, before he speaks again, “Oh, I didn’t realise you found him.”

You gasp, feeling as though your heart was ripped from your chest. He really did something to Garfield!

“Get the fuck off of my property! I'll-I'll Call the police!” Tears Pool in your eyes, before dripping down your face. Whoever this bunny man is, he must be dangerous if he goes around killing things for no reason.

“My heart, how you wound me,” You peek through the curtains, only to see him looking back at you with an intimidating gaze. His ice blue eyes seem to be staring into your soul, “This… Garfield of yours was challenging me. He may have had you first, yes, but the rules of the animal kingdom say that if we find our mates, the new found mate must be left alone. But, that feline of yours blatantly disrespected our relationship, My Heart, so I had to teach him a lesson.”

You gape at him in horror, backing away from the doors, “Stay away from me! I’m not your mate, I’m not your anything! How do you even know me?”

You hear him laugh through the door, as he lands a swift kick towards the door handle, “You bathed me just the other week, don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten?”

Running towards the kitchen, you grab a small knife that is easy to use. Did you seriously help a hybrid?

You hear him kick a few more times, before the doors come crashing down. His heavy footsteps echo across your hardwood floors, as he makes his way to you. Looking around for an exit, you quickly move towards the kitchen window.

Unlocking it with ease, you slide it open, making quick work of the screen keeping the bugs out. You hoist yourself onto the counter, shimmying towards the opening, only to be yanked back by two strong hands. In your (dominant Hand) is the knife you grabbed, allowing you to slash at the large man.

“Get away from me! Don’t fucking touch me!” He releases you for a moment, dodging your erratic movements. A saddened look crossed his handsome face, as he man handled the knife out of your sweaty hands. Once disarmed, he forces you against his chest, chucking the knife into the sink. His now free hands grip your wrists, stopping you from fighting against him.

“Shh, calm yourself. There’s no need to be so erratic-“

“Fuck you! You killed my cat and broke into my house, there’s plenty of reasons for me to be erratic!” You try kicking at his strong legs, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“I understand that your heat is making you irrational-“

“What the fuck are you talking about?! I’m not an animal, I don’t fucking have heats!” Thrashing with your entire body weight, you try to bring him to the ground, but he’s too sturdy for you to do so.

Instead of answering, he brings his head into the crook of your neck, sniffing the area loudly. You don’t see it, but a look of disgust is apparent.

“We need to fix this awful smell. Hold still and I’ll scent you-“ You head butt the large male, knocking him back and off of you.

He stumbles back, and you make a run for the open window. You get halfway out of it once more, before you’re dragged back inside by your waist.

You’re thrown to the floor in an instant, shoulder hitting the wood harshly. A yelp leaves your lips, as more tears drip down your face.

“Don’t be difficult, Love. I don’t want to hurt you. Just let me scent you, and I can help you through your heat. You just have to trust me,”

You shake your head, “No, just leave me alone!”

He frowns, but nods, “It’s ok if you’re difficult, I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

Without warning, Jean grabs his half hard cock, aiming it towards your crumpled form.

“What the fu-“ A stream of clear piss hits you straight in the mouth, causing you to gag and splutter in disgust. You wipe at your tongue, a wretched sob wracking your form.

The stream hits your neck next, before traveling down your entire body. You’re absolutely covered in piss, all whilst crying your eyes out. You try to scramble away, but end up skipping in the acrid liquid.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the-why the fuck would you do that?” He fries. to approach you, a small smile quirking at his lips, but you kick at him, trying to keep him away from you, “Get the fuck away from me! Don’t fucking touch me! You just fucking pissed on me like a-like wild fucking animal!”

He grabs you in his arms as you slap, punch, and scratch, quickly bringing you to your bedroom. He tosses you onto your mattress, effectively sullying your new sheets. You try to scramble off of your bed, but his large frame suddenly dwarfs yours, trapping you to it.

“I didn’t want to do it, My Heart, but you left me no choice. You wouldn’t let me scent you, and I couldn’t let you wear another male’s scent-“

“You don’t own me! We don’t even know each other!” You smack at his well toned chest, as you cry. He kisses you on your piss covered forehead, nuzzling into your slightly damp hair.

“But we will. We’re mates, after all,” With those words, he starts to strip you. “All you need to know is that I know what’s best for you. Right now, you need a big, strong mate to breed your in heat womb, and I’m the right one for the job! So, just lay back and let me help you!”

Your top half is exposed to him, breasts bouncing as he tears your clothes to shreds. Your hits have no effect on him, as he is stares down at your naked body hungrily.

“Why are you doing this to me? I’m not a hybrid, it doesn’t make any sense-“

“Nature doesn’t need to make sense. Nature decided that we’re made for one another, and the sooner you realise this, the sooner you’ll realise that I’m good for you,” He hoists your thighs over his broad, muscular shoulder, a teasing grin on his face, “But right now, I’m going to make you cum as many times as I can.”

He attaches his mouth to your unprotected pussy, lips sucking at your clit, whilst his tongue enters your unprepared opening. A loud yelp leaves your lips at the feeling.

His veiny hands grip the fat of your thighs, as he moves your hips to rub against his face. At first, you’re really uncomfortable, but after a few moments, you’re having to restrain yourself from moaning lamely. Jean is paying special attention to your clit, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine.

A particularly hard suck has you gushing with arousal, and although it wasn’t an orgasm, it was enough to make your thighs shake pathetically. You can feel him grin against your slit, as he inches a hand down to your cunny, and slips a thick finger inside of you. A loud mewl echoes through your chest, as your once slapping hands cover your face in shame.

“Are you feeling good, Heart?” His airy voice would be suave if it weren't for the fact that you’re being assaulted, and you’re covered in a strange man’s piss.

“Nu-no!” He chuckles at your weak attempt of denying him, and dives back into your weeping pussy. Polnareff rubs his finger against you g-spot with ease, not struggling to find it at all.

That, coupled with the intense suckling on your clit, sends you over the edge. Your juices shoot out onto the white haired man’s face, coating him with your essence.

“That was a strong orgasm, My Love. Are you sure you’re not enjoying yourself?” The teasing lilt in his voice makes you want to punch him in the face, so that’s exactly what you do.

He grunts in pain, and in a moment of anger, flips you onto your stomach, hands held firmly in his grasp. Your back is arched just right to be in the prime breeding position, causing his cock to throb in need. Jean always liked a head-strong woman.

“There’s no need for violence. If you wanted me to make love to you that bad, you could’ve just told me,” He didn’t wait to hear your response, instead choosing to sink his massive cock into your tight walls. Gods, you’re so tight.

The rabbit couldn’t help bun moan at the feeling of your spasming cunny. It’s almost like you’re trying to draw him in!

If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll receive.

Jean starts a rapid pace, his hips slamming into yours harshly. His heavy balls smack against your clit with every thrust, causing you to scream in both pleasure and pain.

Within moments, you’re creaming and gushing around his length. Moaning in unison with you, he speeds up his ministrations, quickly cumming inside of you. His hips stutter, before stopping, allowing him to cum what seemed like buckets. Your body sags, signifying your belief that he was finished, when in all actuality, he’s far from it.

He immediately restarts his jack hammer pace, his free hand gripping your hip, “You’re perfect! A perfect pussy that squeezes me so good, a perfect personality, and a perfect body. I’m going to knock you up with many kits!” You sob into your pillow, trying to block out his voice, cock, and smell of piss.

You cum again and again, being filled with liters of virile cum. His hand that once held your hip cups your bloated tummy, a dopey smile covering his handsome features.

Jean can practically feel you becoming pregnant, and it satisfied him greatly.

Noticing your lack of movements, he realises that you’ve passed out.

Oh well, when you wake up, he’ll be sure to attend to you once more.

#polnareff x reader #yandere polnareff #jean polnareff #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #jjba x reader #yandere jojo #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #stardust crusaders

419 notes · View notes

realcube · 3 years

Text

randomly falling asleep with hq!! characters 💤

navi | masterlist | taglist

thank you anon for this cute request!

characters: ushijima, tsukishima & yachi

content warning: swearing, mentions of sexual assault

thank you to anon for this cute request

wakatoshi ushijima

♡ he shows affection in his own...special way 😊

♡ by that, i mean that if you fall asleep while sitting next to him and he thinks you look cute, he’ll just stare (●__●)

♡ like deadass if he was anyone else, it’d be creepy as hell but he’s your bf so-

♡ he stares bc not only do you look precious, but he doesn’t want to touch you as he’s afraid that he might wake you up

♡ though, if you’re in public (like sitting next to him on the train) he might gently put his arm around your shoulders to make sure that onlookers know that you’re safe with him

♡ also, it only takes one time for him to catch on to your habit of disappearing and falling asleep in the most unconventional places and istg he is the BEST at guessing where you are - it’s a gift

♡ like he’ll arrive home and if you’re not there to immediately greet him with kisses, he’ll take a moment - let him boyfriend senses take over and walk him over to whatever room is giving him ✨(y/n) vibes✨, open the door and there is a 99% chance you are in that room sleeping

♡ and he probably got it right first guess (which is a pretty big deal considering y’alls house resembles a sims fkn mansion made with motherload money)

♡ he’ll open the door to the storage cupboard to find you sleeping with the mr muscle spray and it’s such a shame bc he was going to be a clown and make a ‘why are you cheating on me?’ joke but you were in REM sleep 🙄

♡ or he’ll walk in to the conservatory and see you laying in the fetal position on the floor and that is the ONLY time he interferes with your sleep bc he doesn’t want you to fuck up your back 🥺

♡ like he has an obsession with your posture - like if you are slouched he will tell you to stand up straight or if you are sitting hunched in a chair, he’ll creep up behind you to start massaging your shoulders while fixing your posture

♡ not to be rude though- just bc he cares

♡ also, he never questions how you end up falling asleep in the most random of places, he just goes with it

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

ushijima sighed as he hung up his jacket, realising that this was one of those days were you won’t come scurrying to the front door to greet him with kisses and instead he had to hunt through in search of you. although, it wasn’t much of a hunt considering his gut instinct said you’d be in the study room and there you were, cuddled up by the bookshelf.

however, your back was hunched over in way that didn’t look to comfortable so ushijima thought it was his duty to transport you to somewhere that there was a lot more appropriate and fit for sleeping.

so he gently slipped one hand behind your back and the other under your knees to slowly pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom. is efforts may have been in vain though as he noticed one of your lids flutter open out of the corner of his eye, “good afternoon, sweetheart.” he hummed, steadily shifting his hand from your back to the back of your head to tenderly caress your cheek with his thumb as you cuddled into his chest. “are you awake?”

“No.” you groaned.

“Shame, I was going to suggest going out for walk on the beach--”

“I’m awake! Let’s go!”

kei tsukishima

♡ he probably calls you lazy but he’s really just jealous of how well you can sleep

♡ coz he just lays in bed till 4AM staring at the ceiling

♡ i imagine that if you were to fall asleep next to him in a crowded, bustling place - like on a train - he’d take off his headphones and clasp them over your ears so the loud announcements don’t wake you up

♡ he doesn’t fall asleep on transport btw (not even planes) so don’t worry about missing your stop

♡ though he’s not usually a fan of PDA, he’ll hold your hand without a second thought to lead you out the train when you’re still recovery from the post-sleep haze because of course he doesn’t want to lose you in the crowds of people or anything

♡ and if you have a cute lil sleepy face then he might take a picture but he’d probably edit the picture with snapchat or something and draw like a moustache on you, put a sarcastic caption or something then send it to you

♡ (but he’d save an unedited version of the pic bc you’re adorable-)

♡ like tsukki leaves you on delivered most of the time on snapchat bc he believes if you have something important to say, you’ll just message him normally but the rare occasion you do get a snap from him, don’t get your hopes up bc there is a 99% it’s just something like a picture of you with a drawn on crown and the caption ‘sleeping beauty 🙄’

♡ ‘so you think i’m a beauty 🥺’

♡ then he leaves you on read

♡ he will not carry you under any circumstances in public btw

♡ and at home, if you were to fall asleep on the couch next to him while y’all were watching a movie, there’s a 50/50 that’d he carry you to bed

♡ but if he doesn’t take you to bed, he’ll set down a pillow for you on the couch and shift you around so you were laying in a more comfortable position, then drape a blanket over you

♡ in regards to when he comes back from work, you’re usually already asleep in bed - but there is one time that you were not in the bedroom, and he still teases you for it until this day

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

most of the time, you’re sound asleep in bed by the time gets home but tonight you weren’t - in fact, you were no where to be seen. he had searched everywhere, called your phone multiple time and he looked at your schedule, but it appeared as though you were supposed to home right now - so hours, he was sitting fretfully on the couch, contemplating calling the police.

however, all his distressed pacing really worked up an appetite so he poked his head into the pantry to grab a snack but his soul almost left his body when he noticed you laying on the floor, fast asleep, with the cat curled up in your arms. who he didn’t even noticed was missing lol

usually, he wouldn’t even think of waking you up but the rage and shock that shot through his body resulted in him barking out, “what the fuck?! what are you doing here?! i’ve been looking all over this damn house for you and--”

he was cut off by the cat springing out of your arms from the surprising sharpness of his voice and scurrying off, leaving you confused on the floor on the pantry, half asleep, wondering how you got here and why tsukishima was yelling at you? “hm? what’s wrong, sweetie?” you hummed, rubbing your eyes while tilting your head up to look at his tall, slender figure looming over you in the doorway.

as much as tsukishima wanted to stay mad at you, upon noticing how cute your bedhead was along with how soft your voice was, he quickly realised that there was no way he could continue yelling you. so instead, he scoffed and slowly kneeled down to sit next to you on the floor, looking at you with kind yet concerned eyes as he inquired, “why were you sleeping in the pantry?”

it took you a moment to try and remember but once you did, you blurted out, “oh, berry was having trouble sleeping.” yes your cat is called berry. don’t question it. her full name is strawberry tsukishima shortcake. “so i cuddled with her in her favourite sleeping spot and she slept like a baby. but i guess i did too.” yo chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck.

tsukishima mentally cursed you out as he was expecting a silly explanation but shit that’s cute. why does he lowkey want to join y’all next time?

hitoka yachi

♡ gsrbtrhryh she gets so flustered and nervous when you fall asleep with her

♡ and she always does tbh bc she has no idea what to do

♡ like she thinks you look so precious and angelic so she really wants to take a picture and - if she thinks you’d be okay with it - she clicks a photo and probably sets it as her background or posts it on her private story

♡ she is just so head over heels for you tbh that everything you do just astounds her

♡ she just stares at you like ◉_◉ for half an hour bc you are so beautiful then something inside her just prompts her to lean in and just *mwah* and at first she is quite satisfied bc she has expressed her affection

♡ but then a few seconds later her soul just leaves her body and guilt just washes over her

♡ ‘OMG I JUST ASSULTED MY OWN S/O’

♡ she feels horrible

♡ this close 👌 to calling the police on herself

♡ when you wake up, prepare to be bombarded with her apologies

♡ once you reassure that it’d fine bc it was just a lil peck on the cheek and she is your girlfriend after all, it brings her the slightest peace of mind

♡ so you peck her cheek while she is asleep to call it evens and that basically fixes it

♡ but anyway, she is so careful around you when you sleep - like she will literally do the most just to ensure that she doesn’t interrupt your REM sleep

♡ however, that can lead to extremely sticky situations - like the first time you ever fell asleep around her

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

You were on the 5th movie of your barbie movie marathon when she looked over and noticed you had fallen asleep half way through, so she immediately paused it so the noise wouldn’t wake you up. This was the first time she had ever seen you sleep and she felt somewhat flattered that you felt safe enough around her to be vulnerable - even though, yachi never really considered herself to be a rather daunting or intimidating person.

she couldn’t help but just sit and admire you for a few minutes before realising that she should probably transport you to somewhere more comfortable as you were currently sitting next to her on the pink beanbag in her room. and although it was kinda comfy, the preferable alternative - her bed - was only a few feet away.

so she knew what she had to do.

she hopped to her feet and before she did anything too hasty, she stretched to ensure that she wouldn’t pull a muscle while doing what she was about to try. she inhaled deeply before crouching down - instead of bending over as she remembered what coach ukai had told her, ‘lift with your legs!’ - then snaking her arms under your torso and knees.

then, she sprung back up and immediately rushed over to the bed as even though you weren’t too heavy, she was afraid that if she held you for too long, you’d wake up. so once she reach the foot of her bed, she tossed you on so your neck was being supported by her soft pillow and yanked her duvet over you.

she gazed lovingly down at your cozy figure laying on her bed and she couldn’t help but smile.

352 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] S2 Gavin - The Stories Project

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers for content not yet released in EN!🍒

Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide

Features S2 Gavin but contains no spoilers regarding the S2 storyline

This is a continuation of The Broadcast Countdown Project. Do read that first!

[ This was released on 25 August 2021 ]

[ Chapter One ]

Gavin and I are standing outside Door 501 of the 7th block in Pavilion Village.

This is also the home of Zhang Nian, the kidnapper who handed me an anonymous letter in the TV station before eventually committing suicide.

A thorough investigation of the case involving the anonymous kidnapper and his suicide has ended. The STF has also removed the cordoning around the scene.

I liaised with the TV station, planning to showcase the incident from start to end in a special episode of the show which will be aired in the last episode of “Inquiries”.

Gavin: This used to be a crime scene. If you’re afraid, wait for me here. If you need any materials, I can head inside and find them for you.

MC: It’s okay, I don’t avoid such things... Also, I have a feeling that there’s definitely something behind this case worth seeing in person.

The husband and wife who were kidnapped had related the details to me, and mentioned that even though Zhang Nian had kidnapped them, they weren’t treated harshly at all.

It’s just that Zhang Nian was deaf and couldn't speak. He could only communicate with them with hems and haws, which ended up frightening them.

In hindsight, they realised that Zhang Nian never harboured malicious intentions towards them.

MC: What was Zhang Nian’s goal and what did he want to tell us? The answers to these riddles... they might be hidden here.

Gavin pushes the door open, and we step into Zhang Nian’s house.

Gavin: This place was sealed off since the incident, which is why the arrangement of furniture we’re looking at is the same as when he was still alive.

In contrast to the dim and cold space I had imagined, the living room is well lit.

The cream coloured wood flooring, a white cloth sofa, a simple wall painting of the ocean... all of these elements set off one another in the indolent afternoon sunlight, displaying a warm atmosphere.

MC: This place gives me such a strange feeling... the person who lived here must have really loved life...

Gavin: His fiancée decorated this place.

Gavin taps on a magnet on the refrigerator. Tiny colourful slips of paper are stuck underneath zebra, bunny, and elephant magnets.

“Special discount for wax gourds on Tuesday, special discount for pork ribs on Thursday.” - It’s as though the weekly booklet of discounts from the supermarket had been copied down.

“Invitation cards, wedding dress, decide on the hotel.” - The ring which had rolled onto the zebra crossing in the news immediately flashes across my mind.

Aside from that, they have simple recipes on them.

MC: What a pity. If that incident didn’t happen, they would have had a perfect life here.

Gavin: All the furnishings and decor came to a halt when the incident happened to Xu Wen. He did everything he could to retain traces of her existence. As for his own life...

Gavin opens the refrigerator, showing me that it’s more or less empty aside from condiments which had been used a few times.

White cold mist hover in the empty space, out of sync with the warm tones in the living room.

Gavin: This too.

He opens a wall cabinet to reveal a few boxes of ordinary flavoured cup noodles. The incandescent light in the cabinet is chilly, shining on plastic film surrounding the cup noodles.

Imagining the taste of cup noodles submerged in MSG, I once again turn towards the recipes stuck on the refrigerator.

Gavin shuts the cabinet, then points at the bedroom.

Gavin: MC, I want to show you something.

[ Chapter Two ]

Gavin: During the investigation, we found these.

Gavin guides me to the bookcase, then pulls open a drawer at the bottom.

MC: A disability ID, marriage certificate, graduation certificate, guarantee card for a hearing aid and a bank book...

Gavin: We checked his background. He grew up in an orphanage.

Gavin: Back then, the orphanage didn’t have adequate facilities, and didn’t have teachers or special medical setups for guiding people with hearing issues. He was always reclusive in the orphanage, and didn't have friends.

Gavin: When he was ten years old, people from the orphanage and community sent him to school.

While saying this, Gavin retrieves a pile of books from the drawer and shows them to me - they are all sketchbooks, and the pages have long since turned yellow. It’s evident that they were here for a very long time.

MC: He can draw?

Gavin: In these books, there are some sketches of streets and still life. Some are comics modelled after existing works. Although I don’t know much about art, I think he could draw pretty well.

While flipping through the pages, I find myself affected by the exquisite details conveyed in these drawings.

Perhaps because he didn’t go through systematic training, he wasn’t limited to one style in the way he expressed his art.

A distinct and unique style leaving a deep impression seems to break through the sheets of paper, revealing the emotions the artist had hidden in his heart.

MC: ...he must have been a really talented artist.

Gavin points at the wall - there’s a sketch hanging on it. It takes up almost half of the wall, and it’s mounted in a white frame.

MC: The person in the drawing is Xu Wen.

MC: ...it’s drawn really well.

Gavin releases a “mm”, and is unable to hold back a sigh.

Gavin: Extraordinarily well.

It doesn’t matter if it resembles the actual person. It doesn’t matter if it was meticulous or not.

The person in the drawing has her eyes curved upwards with a smile on her face, and she looks like any other young girl you can find in a crowd.

But the limitless gentleness and happiness contained in her eyes - that’s a unique feature belonging only to one person.

Gavin: They seemed to be schoolmates. I read through Xu Wen’s background - she graduated from the same school for deaf students. But there weren't any questionable points in this case, which is why we didn’t probe further. If you want to know the specifics, we'd have to investigate again.

My heart hovers in the air, wanting to figure out everything about this matter.

But from the STF’s perspective, this case is already closed...

Gavin gives me an affirmative gaze.

Gavin: I know what you're going to say. I want to continue listening to this story too. He wasn’t able to speak, but he left behind a voice that he hoped for others to hear.

After a pause, he turns his head, once again glancing at the drawing hanging on the wall.

Gavin: I can feel such emotions.

Gavin says this softly, and the light in his eyes grow deeper.

Floating dust in the surroundings gather on Xu Wen's portrait. We stand in this warm and tranquil space, as though we can sense their story surging forth without a sound.

[ Chapter Three ]

After this, Gavin and I gather information about Zhang Nian and Xu Wen from various sources.

A few days alter, we arrange to meet at a cafe to exchange materials collected from our individual investigations.

MC: I found the teacher from the school for deaf students. He said that when Zhang Nian first arrived at the school, he didn’t even know how to use sign language. He was gloomy and blue.

MC: Only Xu Wen knew how to converse with him, and would teach him sign language after school.

MC: After learning of his interest in drawing, she used her pocket money to buy him colouring pencils and drawing paper in secret without her parents’ knowledge.

MC: They had a pretty happy time in school. Zhang Nian even organised a small exhibition in school, and many teachers and students supported it.

MC: But after graduation, his days became a little more difficult.

He didn’t have a place to stay, and he couldn’t find work. While Xu Wen could rely on her parents for financial assistance, he could only rely on himself.

MC: During this time, Xu Wen seemed to have been using her parents’ money to buy him stationery for drawing, and even accompanied him to set up a stall for his paintings...

MC: But they couldn’t earn money at all.

Gavin opens a few files in front of me.

Gavin: Afterwards, he found a job in a finance company. He went around conducting financial transactions for people, and earned commissions based on the number of successful transactions.

Gavin: Not long after, this company was reported for illegal fund-raising. Both he and his boss were jailed for three years.

I recall seeing his ID from before - a crew cut and a white shirt along with a black suit which looked tidy and fitting.

Turns out he wasn’t working at a bank...

Gavin: Even during his time in jail, Xu Wen never gave up on him. She’d visit him every weekend and converse with him via sign language from across the glass.

Gavin: Of course, Zhang Nian behaved very well in jail, and gave his own drawings to many prison guards. After he was out of jail, he found a stable job.

Separated by the scorching 3pm afternoon sunlight, the gaze Gavin gives me is deep with a tranquil light.

Gavin: Do you know why he planned this kidnapping and handed you the video clip anonymously?

I shake my head. This has been my biggest question.

Gavin takes out a few photographs from the file.

Gavin: Before the case was closed, these documents couldn’t be disclosed to the public, which is why I didn’t tell you at the time.

I scrutinise one of the photographs - an A3-sized sheet of paper is stuck on a door, with a few lines written on it.

From the format of the digits, they appear to be bank account numbers.

Gavin: He was behind this door.

MC: Then these bank account numbers...

Gavin: We checked them.

He points at the first line of digits, then speaks calmly.

Gavin: The first account is for an animal treatment centre. It treats stray cats and dogs which meet with accidents.

Gavin: This one is for a 10 year old girl with hearing issues. She lives with a granny who sells fruits, and is currently saving money for surgery.

Gavin: The both of them had a habit of sending money to these accounts.

Gavin: Even though Zhang Nian continued sending money to them after Xu Wen passed away, he could only maintain his own livelihood with his income.

MC: What you’re saying is, if the video camera could capture this... and document them properly so that more people would know about them...

Perhaps he could help these people. Even if it was for the last time.

MC: ...but that was such a complex method. There was no need to do a good deed in such a roundabout manner, and even kidnap people to reach that goal.

Gavin silently picks up one of the photos from the table - it’s a note that Zhang Nian wrote before he committed suicide. A short message is written on it - It’s Wen Wen’s birthday today.

Gavin: Aside from that, he more or less did think of seeking revenge.

Gavin’s finger remains on the photograph.

Gavin: In Zhang Nian’s life, Xu Wen was the only one who gave him warmth. She was his lover.

Gavin: After losing such a person, it isn’t difficult to guess what kind of an attitude he had when facing this world, and facing the people who caused such an ending.

Gavin: When people are in pain, their hatred will involuntarily become amplified.

Gavin: From this perspective, at least he didn't take things even further.

Gavin’s voice is dull, as though he’s mulling over something, or affected by their misfortune.

I can’t help but reach across the table, gently bumping the tip of his finger with mine.

Silence permeates the air. He curls his finger slightly, hooking it around mine.

[ Chapter Four ]

The files, photographs, and a few scattered pages of a notebook are spread on the table randomly, as though illustrating their entire story in front of me.

The car accident was a tragedy, but it wasn’t the only tragedy. I find myself hesitating to speak. When I open my mouth, I sigh.

MC: Xu Wen was such a good person. She tugged onto him from beginning to end, and never gave up on him for a single moment. She actually managed to pull him out of the abyss.

Even though she couldn’t hear nor speak, she used her gentle gaze to heal the person she loved.

Gavin tidies the items on the table one by one, storing them properly.

His composed voice is mixed with ruefulness. He seems to be slightly moved, but has more or less come to terms with his emotions.

Gavin: From the perspective of an observer, there were many dismal and extreme traits in Zhang Nian’s personality. This is a point that can’t be denied.

Gavin: However, he was abandoned from the moment he was born. The path he walked on all these years, and the world that he saw - those are things we’d find difficult to relate with.

Gavin: Perhaps from the time he knew about the world, he realised that living was already something requiring courage.

Probably seeing such stories again and again when handling various cases, Gavin’s attitude is objective and calm.

Gavin: No matter what attitude he had when he made this decision, he shouldn’t have done so.

In contrast to the practised manner in which Gavin handles his emotions, I remain immersed in the regretful ending experienced by the two.

MC: Aside from her, he had nothing else.

The furniture, the recipes underneath the magnets, and the drawing hung on the wall... these images flash past me one by one.

MC: If I were the one who experienced this, and the only important person in my life was gone, I’d lose my connection with this world. Perhaps death would be a form of liberation.

Before I can finish speaking, Gavin raises his voice, cutting off my impending sigh.

Gavin: It wouldn’t.

He looks at me resolutely and decisively.

Gavin: No matter when, death will never be a form of liberation. Pain can always be treated.

Gavin: Whether it’s because someone important is no longer around, or if you were to lose contact with someone, it’s inevitable to carry some pain.

Gavin: Perhaps time is needed, and perhaps meeting a certain someone is needed, to gradually put an end to such pain, and to use various methods to put an end to such pain.

Gavin: But things will always get better.

Gavin seals the brown paper bag which is filled with materials related to Zhang Nian and Xu Wen, then places it at the corner of the table which has been warmed by the sun.

I watch as his palm presses against the paper bag, a moment of hesitation surging past his slightly lowered gaze. Almost at the same time, he looks up at me -

There’s only certainty in his eyes.

Gavin: No matter when, never give up on yourself. Xu Wen was constantly pulling him out of the abyss. He shouldn’t have given up like that.

[ Chapter Five ]

By the time Gavin and I walk out of the cafe, much of the sun’s heat has dispersed. Wind blows over from the river, and it’s refreshing and soothing.

Countless little flowers with names I’m unaware of bloom among the grass along the street, swaying in the evening breeze of midsummer.

MC: The weather is really nice today.

After sitting down for an entire afternoon, I can’t help but stretch, relaxing my shoulders and back.

Before I can take a few steps, I suddenly remember the moment I met Zhang Nian face-to-face, causing me to halt in my footsteps. He had walked towards me in a timid manner, a sincere and apologetic expression on his face.

He had handed me a letter, its edges creased from being pinched. Then, he turned away hurriedly before running away.

Too much time has passed. Even his Evol has lost its effectiveness.

Gavin senses that something is off about me, and draws a few steps closer. I wave my hand at him, signalling that I’m fine.

Having second thoughts, I can’t help but sigh with emotion.

MC: If only Zhang Nian was willing to contact me earlier and tell me about what exactly happened...

MC: If only I could tell him how nice today’s weather is. I wonder if he’d have made such a decision.

Gavin responds decisively from beside me.

Gavin: He wouldn’t.

Gavin: If someone told him that the weather would be nice today, he’d have definitely held on for a while longer.

Gavin: But he couldn’t always wait for someone to pull him along and bring him out of the abyss. He had to muster his courage and walk out by himself.

I nod quietly, gripping the notebook in my hand.

MC: Gavin, aside from the original plan for this episode, I think I’d need to add some new content...

Gavin halts in his footsteps, immediately reading the thoughts in my heart.

Gavin: Are you thinking about how there are many people in the world like Zhang Nian?

MC: Mm.

There are definitely some people who are shouldering pain alone, and are hesitating at the crossroads of life and death.

MC: Although this tragedy can no longer be salvaged, we could prevent even more tragedies from occurring.

I turn towards the direction of the river, looking afar at the boundless sky.

MC: I want to tell them about the beautiful scenery all around the world, and the beauty of the four seasons.

MC: Tell them about the colours of sunset, the sounds of the ocean...

MC: And tell them that as long as they’re willing to wait for a while longer, there are still people on earth who will love them.

MC: I want their eyes to be able to see the world that I see. I want them to believe that this world is always worth it.

Realising how overly idealistic and visionary my words are, I give Gavin a smile.

MC: ...I might have sounded too exaggerated.

Gavin: Nope. It will be a very meaningful show.

He suddenly reaches out, combing my hair which has been blown messy by the wind. His fingers linger on the ends of my hair for a long time.

The corners of his lips curl upwards slightly, and he brings me into his arms.

Gavin: Thank you.

Gavin: This world is always worth it.

His voice is far too soft. For a moment, I wonder if I misheard.

MC: What did you say? I couldn’t hear you clearly.

Gavin chuckles, then raises his volume.

Gavin: Since the weather’s pretty good, want to go for a drive?

MC: Did you drive here today?

Gavin: Mm. It’s rare to have such nice weather, so I took the car out for a drive.

MC: Wow~ That is rare. It’s been such a long time since I sat in Captain Gavin’s car.

Gavin takes my hand, striding with large steps as he leads me forward.

Gavin: Let’s go. The car’s in front.

- End -

Filming for the special episode of “Inquries” came to an end. When the final episode aired, the show became a trending topic. After watching it, many members of the audience provided assistance and support for organisations targeted at disabled individuals. Although Zhang Nian and Xu Wen have already left this world, they’ve enabled people who experience difficulties in life to obtain warmth. Such warmth continues to last. I guess being able to allow more people to believe that the world is worth loving, and to do what little they can to help those in need is what it means to be a person in the media industry.