#but they can be beasts to me as well though it occupies less of my internal monologue. a small extremely chipper black and tan poodle i saw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

narrators-journal · 7 months

Note

im gonna just send u these in a little bulk and you can do em whenever u want, anyway, ryomina teratophilia n dacryphilia <3

Is this good? I don’t know at this point. But was it fun to write? Yes! I wrote it as a personal gift to myself for my birthday, so I went full guilty pleasure, self-indulgent, personal favorite thoughts sort of angle. I just wanted my favorite personal Ryoji form included lol. Also! Shout out to SleepyCoffeeOwl on Ao3! Who was nice enough to read over a bit of this beast for me! They helped me fix up a few things about this lil story, so I’m very grateful to them.

Also! While I will be rather busy around halloween, If you make/made a request I promise I’ll get to it! I’ll write into November if I need lol. So feel free to ask away until the 31st!

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Predator/prey, teratophilia, at least a little dacryphilia, overstimulation, dubcon yet again, size difference, cum inflation, canonicity is very loose. My own monster design,

With a sigh, Minato Arisato trailed behind Junpei and Yukari as they patrolled the silent streets of the dark hour. Watching the smaller, less hostile shadows skitter away from them, or stare at the trio as they went, admiring the rotund moon hanging in the sky, and breathing in the stale, cold air.

It was boring.

Not his work as a SEES member, that was always interesting on some level, even when he was doing little else but strolling around in the oddly colored night. No, what was boring was not having his mp3 player to occupy his mind on their patrols.

Not from lack of trying, though. The blue-haired emo had tried all that he could think of to bargain, barter, threaten, and even proposition Mitsuru to put a plume of dusk into his mp3 player so that it functioned like her bike.

It went over about as well as you’d expect. So, while Yukari and Junpei were going back and forth with their semi-flirting bickering ahead of him, Minato simply found another way to entertain himself. watching the small hand creatures skitter about like some fucked up version of rats, or the whispy clouds that hung in the vibrant sky, or played I-spy with himself.

At least, until his mindless daydreaming made him run into a suddenly tense Yukari. “What’s going on?” he asked, noticing that Junpei had his broad sword at the ready, so he went ahead and pulled out his katana. Scanning the silent streets ahead of them for any sign of threat until Junpei finally whispered, “I think someone, or something, is ahead of us.” nodding towards an alley further down the sidewalk, where a soft shuffling could be heard in the stagnant air. “Minato, why don’t you go check it out? You’re the one with all of the personas. You’d have a better chance if it’s hostile.” Yukari suggested, getting a scowl from the shaggy-haired wildcard before he pushed past them. Whispering to her as he went, “Just admit you’re scared.” and not hanging around to let her hiss out some indignant venom.

Instead, he crept forward with his weapon drawn and his senses keen for any sudden sounds. Though, in an odd twist, there wasn’t any sound. Outside of the shuffing and pained whimpering of whatever was in the alley, the street had gone as still and silent as a grave. That’s a new one. He thought, but mostly brushed it off and kept his focus on the potential enemy. Though, when he got close enough to the alleyway to press himself to the brick wall of the store, the first thing he noticed wasn’t blood, the sound of ripping flesh, or aything like that, but the strong scent of graveyard dirt and decay.

That wasn’t normal. While the dark hour had a cold, stale taste to the air, sometimes with the tinge of iron or still water, it never smelled so clearly of decay.

Yet, when Minato peeked around the brick wall of the coffin-filled store, he didn’t find any shadows ripping someone apart, or even Strega dealing with a fresh corpse. Only a brunette man in a vibrant yellow scarf curled into the fetal position on the dingey alley floor. “Ryoji?” He asked, his defenses dropping along with his sword, Junpei and Yukari giving squawks of, “Ryoji?!” To mimic his own, but he waved them off. Keeping them at a distance as he stepped closer to the late-semester transfer student. Trying with a gentler edge to his flat voice, “Hey, are you okay, Ryoji? Are you hurt? Scared?” Which, got him no reply. So, he took another step closer and knelt down to put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder.

And that was when he reacted. Ryoji’s voice, usually sing-song and light as a feather, burst out in a guttural snarl that felt as if it physically knocked Minato back. “Get away from me, Minato!” Yet, at the same time that his words were deep and forceful, the sharp edge of pleading rang in the wildcard’s head like a bell. “Huh?! The fuck do you mean? If you’re hurt, I need to help! Otherwise, you’ll get your ass eaten! And not in the way you like.” He snapped back, returning to his feet while Ryoji tried to drag himself away from the man. Which, was the most unnerving part of the encounter. Seeing a man who usually greeted Minato like a hyper dog seemingly power through hellish pain to escape him. Fucking ouch. “Mochizuki, get your ass back here right now-” “NO!”

That time, his voice knocked the breath from Minato like a punch to the gut. Some small part of his long-numbed brain getting frazzled. Awakening a dose of dread that the blue-haired man hadn’t felt for eleven long years. “What...the fuck?…” He breathed out, a hand on his chest to steady his frantic heart rate as his storm-colored eyes watched the brunette curl into a ball against the back wall like a beaten dog. Shaking like a leaf in a tornado, with...blood? on his hands. “Ryoji. Are you okay?” He asked, stepping closer again, his annoyance and confusion put aside for concern. “Please...leave me alone. Run…” Ryoji said, his voice quieter, that time. Less hostile, yet still powerful enough to make the blue-haired wildcard shiver in a mix of excitement and fear. But, he ignored his pleas and pushed through the odd sensation.

He took another step closer, reaching for the brunette again. But, before he could grab Ryoji to try and pull him out of the passage, the cowering man screamed. Startling the persona user again, but not nearly as much as the bloody, slimey appendage that ripped itself from Ryoji’s back with a sick, wet ripping sound. “Minato?! What the hell is going on?!” Yukari asked, closer than she had been. “Stay back!” He snapped back, not letting his stormy eyes leave what turned out to be a fucking wing. Ryoji was growing wings, but not only one or two, but four. The transfer student who’d been so desperate to befriend him wasn’t human. “R-Ryoji?” He tried again, his voice almost a whisper. Inwardly wincing at the edge of anxiety in his words. “What...what’s going on?” He asked, stepping back as he spoke. Watching as the boy cried and contorted in pain. His body bulging and shifting beneath his skin and clothes, his face twisting into a sick grin as his teeth fell out and his eyes darkened. It was almost too horrifying to watch, yet kept Minato’s eyes glued to his classmate. Rooted to the spot by the pained, inhuman shrieks to watch what was human only a moment ago, slowly turn into something more beastial. Something that made Yukari shriek behind Minato.

And just like that. The spell was broken.

Turning on his heel, Minato bolted like a rabbit from a wolf. Blind of where he was going, just knowing that he couldn’t stay, and that he couldn’t stay with Junpei or Yukari. Though, he was vaguely aware that the duo seemed to follow his lead, each haring off from the scene of the crime the moment they saw Minato fleeing the alcove between buildings. Though, the wildcard’s adrenaline wasn’t racing out of fear exactly, In the frantic rush to get away, enough clarity was there to identify that much.

No, the midnight-haired emo wasn’t running out of some fear of dying to whatever creature Ryoji was becoming, but simply because it was what felt right. After all, while not knowing what the hell his classmate was, he was damned sure of one thing. He was predatory.

So, the wildcard ran for all his training with Akihiko was worth. Down dark alleys, empty streets. Dodging immobile cars and caskets housing the normal citizens of Tatsumi port, he let that odd, amoral rush of excitement and dread push him further. His feet pounding into the asphalt, his blood rushing in his ears, and his mind racing with alternating thoughts of Gotta get away, and Oh god I hope he’s chasing me. Like the two most primal parts of himself were battling within him. Yet, only one got its wish. “Mina! Come back!” Ryoji’s voice called from the silent street behind him. The sing-song sugar back in his words, but the impact of his words wasn’t entirely softened. Whatever was calling to him may have been Ryoji Mochizuki, but he wasn’t the Ryoji he knew.

Which...was thrilling.

The rush of dread was overtaken by the buzz of giddiness at that point. Making Minato’s breaths puff out in gasps as he hooked around a corner and ran down another thin passage to a new street. Fueled by the rush he got each time the monster’s voice called out, “Mina! Funeral lily! Come here! I won’t hurt you!” “Please! I just want to see you! Mina!” With what Minato thought might be an exilerating edge of desperation. God what the hell am I doing?! That thing’s not human! I shouldn’t be aroused at it chasing me! He scolded himself, trying to get his barrings on whatever perverse side of himself was muddying his thoughts, but that didn’t stop that voice from arguing, Okay, but he’s capable of intellegent speech, and whatever it is WAS Ryoji ten minutes ago. It wouldn’t be a sin-

The thought was shoved away. Minato was no stranger to odd hook-ups, but a classmate who turned into a shadow? That was enough to make his stomach itch with shame.

Yet, in his thoughtless weaving between streets and coffins, Minato realized that he had managed to lose track of where he was. Even when he tried to spot identifiable landmarks as he ran, nothing looked even vaguely familiar. The full, yellow-green moon doing nothing to clear up the thick shadows, and the air that stung Minato’s lungs still tasted of decaying leaves and graveyard dirt. It shouldn’t have, though. After all, he was running down a dark street lined with houses, not graveyards or dead trees. If the dark hour hadn’t been in effect, the place would’ve been nothing more than your average, well-off culdesac.

Yet, the dark hour was in effect. So, instead of a peaceful neighborhood with an HOA, the green-tinted street was full of dark nooks and the peering eyes of whatever courageous monsters dared peer out of their hidey holes.

Yet, that was all the shadows did. That’s all that they had done ever since Ryoji had turned into...whatever he became. Even with Minato disoriented from confusion and weakening from exhuastion, no shadows dared try to attack.

So, with legs like jello, and the coordination of a baby deer, the blue-haired man almost involuntarily slowed to a stop at the end of the block. Peering around at the houses and yards that blocked his escape. Steadying his breathing as best he could to try and focus on the eerie silence of the eerie neighborhood to try and pick out any suspicious squeak or tap on the asphalt or houses.

Nothing.

Even the usual ambiance of shadows going about their usual existence, or the stirring of air under, assumedly, Ryoji’s new wings had been mute for...however long. That’s not good, is it? Minato asked himself, looking behind himself as he thought. What does it mean when a monster scares the other shadows? Even the arcana shadows had smaller shadows in their areas. He thought, his wide, stormy eyes studying every non-descript lump of darkness before turning his head back around. Only to feel the tickle of heaving, night-scented feathers on the tip of his nose.

Sitting before him, pale mask smiling down at Minato from an impressive height, was that human-bird abomination that was Ryoji.

How the fuck did he get here?! Was the shaggy-haired man’s first panicked thought, only for another to rear-end that blip of as soon as he’d had it. How close has he been this entire time?Did I ever even lose him? Was he only messing with me by letting me run? Are Mitsuru and the others okay? Are they alive?! And many more piling up like a car wreck until all the man could do was tilt his head back numbly to look up at the beast that was once a lovesick classmate.

With that same wind-brushed hairstyle Ryoji wore with two twinges jutting up like antennae. A mask-like face of snow white with bottomless pits for eyes and an eerie, toothless smile. Not to mention skin that--Minato took a step back without realizing it. It was grotesque. That skin so black, as black as obsidian stretched over a large, human upper body that was no longer an average, soft weight, but emaciated. It was like the goofy man had morphed into some feverish nightmare. A feverish nightmare that now sat in front of him in the flesh. With his four large, dark feathered wings shimmering with unearthly color in the green light at any small movement, and two...were they legs, since he had human arms? Hind legs? Of a bird. Each four-toed foot adorned with claws sharp enough to slice chromium like hot butter.

If it wasn’t for the voice whispering in the wildcard’s head about the looming beast being a predator, he would’ve seemed kind of cute with how he sat. Watching the wildcard with his legs out in front of him when the man all but fell on his ass to crawl away from him. ”R-Ryoji?...” Minato tried, the tentative word little more than a lustful-fear-choked croak in the stillness of the green night. Yet, it seemed to be all the invitation the shadow needed. Reaching for the blue-haired persona user with boney, clawed fingers to pluck him off of the asphalt while he tried to scramble back to his feet.

Not that running anymore would have done any good. After all, it had only taken Minato looking away for a brief moment for the beast to be mere centimeters in front of his face. It didn't take a rocket scientist to calculate the chances of his escape.

But, that didn’t stop the blue-haired man from writhing and fighting to get out of the monster’s hand. Even resorting to trying to bite him, though to no avail. All he managed to do was exhaust himself. All the while, Ryoji stared down with his bottomless eyes like his attacks were nothing. As if Minato was only laying limp in his palm. Only stilling him with a series of cooes, trills and trapping Minato under his thumb so he could use a claw to gently cut through the mortals clothes.

He was cutting Minato’s clothes off. “H-hey! Don’t do- Stop that!” The wildcard squawked, his cheeks burning with a melancholy mix of skin-tingling excitement and cold disgust. Swatting at whatever he could reach to stop the shadow from stripping him like some lewd doll. But, for all his fighting, the blue-haired emo only got was a happy, sing-song trill from the beast. Allowed to kick and snap to his heart's content since, with his midsection trapped, it was all in utter vain. Yet, he still tried. Minato fought for all he was worth to worm his way to freedom, or at all dissuade the bird-thing.

Yet, all that got him was a sweat by the time the beast finally slipped the now-ruined school pants from his body. No progress in his fight for freedom, just tired, with a nagging sense of blood-thrumming fear. All Minato could do was slam his fist down on Ryoji’s hand and plead, with rain threatening to fill his cloudy eyes. “Please...Ryoji, please don’t.” Only to get a gentle shushing, like a soft breeze through the trees on a quiet night, and an affectionate chirp in response. Before the masked monster lowered his head, and a long, wet tongue slithered out from the mouth of his eerie mask. “Hold on, what- what are you- Ah!”

Leaving a slick trail of warm saliva in its wake, the tip of the shadow’s long tongue languidly slid from his asshole, up and over his groin. Coming to a stop below his ribcage where a ripple of shame continued to Minato’s burning face at how the slow drag of the wet muscle over his pale skin made his stomach flutter. Oh god, am I...am I ACTUALLY into this? Minato thought, trying again to wriggle out of the shadow’s hold. What is that supposed to mean? How is this even registering as hot in the first place?! But, those questions got shunted into the depths of his mind for later when Ryoji’s monstrous form circled its tongue around Minato’s member. Letting out a whine from whatever mouth that perpetual smile hid. as if disappointed that the 5’6 persona user didn’t have the proportions to…what? Fuck him with? Ryoji, I swear to god if I survive this encounter, we will be having such a talk.

Yet, that moment wasn’t the right one for questions. The priority in that moment was to try and bite back the pleasure flowing into his stiffening member. Yet, the slick warmth, flexing muscles, and calculated movements worked together to pick off each one of the wildcard’s mental defenses regardless.

And, there was no way Ryoji was clueless about what he was doing. Even though Minato saw nothing but a void of endless darkness when he looked into those eyes, he could tell from the beast’s use of that cursed, blue-black tongue that the squeezing and stroking was 100% intentional. Curated specifically to deftly increase the hellfire under his skin until his rational thoughts were overrun with that familiar headrush of need.

The monster’s tongue worked him until Minato’s attempts to get free of the thumb pinning him had devolved into thoughtless pants and humping into the moist heat. The more aggressive those lewd impulses became, the foggier Minato’s thoughts became. And in turn, the less he could focus on fighting, or even his own shame.

At least, that was the logic Minato could piece together to rationalize his predicament. That was all he could do, after all. Lay in the beast’s hand, pinned beneath his thumb. Fighting for some coherent thought while his hips twitched and moved with Ryoji's tongue in a disgraceful dance. Until, despite his attempts to stall, the bubbling rush of excitement crept in. “Ryoji! W-wait, I’m gonna cum!” Minato yelled, sure to wince at how whiney and desperate he sounded later. But, in that moment of forbidden bliss, when the friction and technique won against his denials and rationale, all he could do was claw into the creature as his stomach clenched and shuddered with pulsing pleasure.

In the aftermath, Minato hadn’t even the energy to contemplate what had happened. All he could do was let his head loll back and gulp in desperate breaths of nearly-stale night air. Meanwhile, his captor lapped up whatever stray squirt managed to escape him. And Minato let him. Letting the warm weight of the shadow’s tongue press into his body while he tried to will the stability back into his gelatinized legs.

Yet, in that moment of leisure, what Minato didn’t expect, was the cool asphalt to be what touched his stomach next. But, sure enough, when his storm-grey eyes snapped open he no longer looked into the tornado-green sky, but down an abandoned road. Still ladden with thick shadows and no sign of life outside of the rumbling and shifting weight of the human-bird abomination above him. Those noises soon giving way to a more gut-twisting soundtrack that was all too familiar to the man.

The sound of bones crunching and cracking. Of muscle tissue tearing apart like a fork tender roast.

He didn’t dare look back to see the explanation. Minato didn’t even think of his lack of clothing as his feet scrambled against the unyielding blacktop. The only thing on his mind for those precious few seconds was Run! Oh god, get out of the car!

Before, the frantic train of thought crashed on its tracks. Minato kept from his freedom by a firm, yet measured weight pinned his belly back to the road. And, while the shadow’s hand was smaller, big enough to hold onto the back of Minato’s neck to keep him in place on the rough terrain, but not engulf his entire body, he could still feel how much of the beast’s strength Ryoji held back. ”Stay. Put.” Came the order. Whispered in a melodious voice that was equal parts smooth and soothing, and gutteral. Like a verbal shot of cinnamon. Spicy, yet still capable of luring out a small whimper from the wildcard. The power in those two words reverberated through Minato. Snatching away the courage to fight, and replacing it with a taboo bolt of enticing fear. Which, was a feat. Considering the emo was rarely intimidated by the horrific creatures in the dark hour, yet, with Ryoji’s clawed hand around his throat and his masked face close enough for his warm breaths to stir the edge of the persona user’s shaggy fringe, his pride couldn't help but take a back seat to the mingling and mixing of fear, disgust, and desire.

Yet, he didn’t get much time beyond that to beat himself up for cowing down to a monster, or how his dick twitched. Because once the beast was sure he wasn’t going to try and bolt again, his hands were back to exploring Minato’s body. Feeling along every scar and curve as his face nuzzled into the man’s neck to lap at his skin and drink in the scent of his lavender body wash. Meanwhile, Minato could hear his talons clicking on the paved road while the monster adjusted his size and stance. Keeping himself large enough to pin his prey, but judging from what parts of his body the wildcard could feel lifting his hips or puffing against his neck, small enough so that he wouldn’t kill him. Once satisfied, though, his face finally dislodged from the persona user's neck. Instead trailing mimed kisses down his spine. So, taking the opportunity to sate curiosity, Minato took stock of what he could through the storm of uneasy pleasure and disgust.

The first thing, was the utter lack of any noise. Even with it feeling as if the Dark Hour should end, the plump moon hung overhead in the sky, so the streets still lacked the usual night life. Secondly, and more worrying, was that despite Ryoji's reveal as a monster, the brush of a barbed something against his ass still made Minato's cock twitch again.

Ryoji lifted him off of the pavement. Abruptly dragging him out of his contemplation and back to his position as the plaything of a semi-human bird creature. Who, when the wildcard looked, had sat back on his hind legs to calculate how to go about the next step. Yet, whatever thoughts might be going through Ryoji’s monstrous head was secondary to the...member Minato saw between the creature’s legs.

After all, with a softer pink skin tone to contrast the ebony color painted onto Ryoji’s skeletal frame and soft barbs going down its length, it was hard to miss. Tapered at one end, drooling a thick precum, the appendage didn’t quite look like a human dick. But watching it twitch while he was placed over him, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess its use. “H-hey, wait! Ryoji, that’s too- Fuck!”

Regardless of his words, the monster pushed him down onto the odd cock. Stretching and filling the blue-haired mortal to the point of sparks of pain. Thankfully only pushing a little over the ‘tip’ in, but against Ryoji's cool, skeletal chest, the squirt of heat that filled Minato’s stomach was overwhelming. Bringing more tears to his dark eyes as he clawed into Ryoji’s hand, Jesus, how big is he at this point?, while the monster ground into Minato’s ass until the blue-haired man breathed out a quiet moan.

That was all it took. One small sign of possible consent, and the shadow was fluttering his wings and pushing him further down his length until Minato gasped and yelped, “R-Ryoji!” Throwing his head back and clawing into the monster that held his midsection. Yet, any concern he was going to voice escaped him. Because, as he stared up into the bottomless eyes of that pale mask, and the thickening cock slipped deeper inside of him, pleasure overtook him. The barbs added a delicious bit of extra drag over every sensitive inch of Minato’s body they managed to reach, and It was breathtaking. the lascivious mix of pain and pleasure, leaving no more room for fears of the consequences.

Instead, the only fear Minato could find as he was drug up and down Ryoji's cock only heightened the thrill. All he could focus on was how helpless, full, hot, and good he felt. Shaking with pain from how he was being stretched, but at the same time, Ryoji’s cock never seemed to miss a weak spot. The barbs brushing along his clenching walls, flooding his blood with a fresh bout of fiery thunder with each drag. All the while, the curve of the dick allowed the tip to grind perfectly against Minato’s prostate when the bird monster moved right. The disgust at being a shadow's toy would come later. For now, Minato lost himself in the stomach-tightening bliss.

All the while, Ryoji smiled down at him, puffing out breaths and growling with his own pleasure. Keeping a careful hold on Minato as to not squeeze his guts out, and letting the smaller male claw into his fingers against the pain. Not seeming to care for a second. even when the emo managed to break skin a little bit, all he seemed worried about was the lewd moans and whimpers Minato gave, and the wet schlick schlick schlick of his cock working its way into the mortal until no more could be squeezed into him.

He only paused his pursuit of every possible sound Minato could make once. Right when the wildcard felt as if he was about to unravel a second time that night. “What the fuck?!” was the thoughtless snap that delay got. Minato's chest heaving, his hair a mess from sweat, and his grey eyes flashing with impatience when he snarled up at his captor. Yet, all the shadow did to his annoyance was snort. Wiping away the tears that had started trailing down Minato’s cheeks in the heat of the moment. Lifting his hand back to the grinning mouth of his pale mask, the monster lapped up the salty tears and cooed down at the mortal. As if to thank him for something. Admittedly, through the haze of nearing orgasm and taboo mixing of pain and dread, it was hard to tell.

Then, without missing a beat, he was back to thrusting into Minato. Trilling when the mortal gave a startled mix of a moan and a yelp. Though, this time, the monsoon of hot pleasure and satisfying fullness didn’t stop. Even when more tears escaped Minato’s usual impeccable control, Ryoji would only trill as he ground into him. Dragging him along the barbs of his inhuman cock with increasingly unsteady hands. But, to Minato's gratitude, the soft bristles kept the human-bird abomination from speeding up.

Yet, even when his inky wings flared out and flapped in some mindless search for leverage, he kept going. The unyielding onslaught of euphoria breaking down the emo’s shame. Going and going without a sign of break. Flooding him with euphoria until an electrical current soaked into Minato’s muscles. Arching his back in the monster’s hand as a yowl ripped from him. Partially out of pain, but also born from the crescendo of bliss that rushed to his head at last.

Yet, the wildcard didn’t get to enjoy his orgasm for long. That rush of dopamine immediately gobbled up by a harsh sting of pain that increased the further past his limit Ryoji pushed him. “Ry...oji…” He muttered. Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the way being so full soured from a pleasing burn, to a colder pain. Yet, the winged shadow was too far away to hear him. Continuing to drag him along his ridged cock like a toy. Enjoying the whines, tears, and hisses just as much as Minato's moans and pants.

Again, all Minato could do was whine and plead to the discolored night. His words lost on his captor, and his strength ebbing in the acidic waves of masochistic pleasure. Clinging to those sparks of dark need to keep him from passing out or letting the aches and stings of Ryoji's member stretching him overwhelm him.

Regardless, though, the wildcard hung on. Focusing on whatever he could to keep his shaking body from going too limp or his vision from going too dark. Until, at long last, Ryoji’s wings flared out a final time and gave a shudder as he pumped what felt like molten lava into Minato’s body. Overwhelming his senses once more with sensations. Ryoji, meanwhile, throbbed inside of him. Panting against Minato's back and letting out small noises into the discolored night as his four wings quivered and shimmered.

He was beautiful, in that odd, sad sort of way you might find a body in a casket to be beautiful. The shimmering of his feathers subsided, his pale mask contrasting against his dark skin. It was as if he demanded all Minato’s focus, even as he did little more than coo and chirp down at the wildcard in sleepy affection. Though, perhaps that focus was Minato’s encroaching loss of consciousness.

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dyrewrites · 3 months

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Before Deluca -- Rock and Sea and Fire

Cool as the water made me, it did nothing for the irritation burning through Lucient’s mumbled French curses as the mountainous shadow of our home hit us with a final ripple of night-black wash. We could still see it, of course, but it was well and truly out of reach—had there been any way to reach it.

Yet we were not without options.

Another ship floated just beyond the empty space ours had occupied, if less than a quarter in size. A small schooner, from the arrangement of its sails, and it was empty—what with its owner lying dead, or dying, on the Lune Royale.

And, numb as I was, absently treading water, I reacted sarcastically, “Well, love, you wanted a new ship…”

“Merde,” was Lucient’s response as, holding me ever-tighter and shivering so hard his teeth chattered, he pointed to the massive black shadow of ours, “Everything we own is on that one!”

“True,” my voice sounded strange to my ears, missing the emotion I was used to hearing as I tried to be logical, to hold onto sense, “but maybe we can take this one and follow it.”

Lucient stared at me, too easily visible despite naught but the moon to light him, competing as well with the shimmering dark of the water, “How are you so calm?”

I laughed, though the look on his face told me I shouldn’t have, “Amore mio, this is not calm. This is broken. You are speaking to a broken man,” he tried to kiss me, slipping in his hold before kicking and scrabbling at my shoulders to remain afloat, but I couldn’t find the smile that ought to have garnered. Something kept tickling my bare feet, with peculiar skin that felt too much like rock to be a fish and I had no desire to find out what it was, “a broken man who’d like to flee from whatever is under us.”

Looking down, he saw what I refused to and gasped before tugging me to swim forward. I followed, head held as high as I could manage and focused on the ship and not the stretch of black on black all around us—void that it was, yawning and cold.

Had I looked down, I might have screamed, instead I gasped and Lucient yelped, as we were lifted out of the water by something. Something larger than reality allowed me to accept. Its crown alone would have made the Lune Royale look like a tugboat.

The ocean fled our feet, leaving us but ankle-deep in water on a mound of pitted rock just as blueblack and we scrambled to run along it—desperate not to scream—until we could roll onto the slim deck of the schooner.

While Lucient got it prepped, knowing more of such things than I did, I headed below deck in search of light to see the thing chasing us. Moonlight was enough for most things but that thing refused to be seen and, fool that I was, I had to see it.

Hanging by a meager bed I found a familiar singing lamp, same as those which filled the manor, and as I carried it above—marveling at its pulsing warmth, so much like a heartbeat—Lucient’s eyes bulged.

“Wisplight,” He gasped.

But he wasn’t gasping in surprise of it. He was gasping at what it called, what came with a wave that shook us even as the wind caught in the sails and we glided quick enough to force hands to rails.

Then the creature breached behind the schooner, gifting us the horror of its face.

“Throw the light,” Lucient whispered, hand firm on the mast, eyes on it.

But I didn’t move; standing in front of the cabin entrance I could only stare. It kept pace, somehow it kept pace, always just behind us despite our speed. And it did so without appearing to move, as if it were anchored to us. And it was nothing known, nor of a comfortable oddity as some sea beast grown too large yet still understood on some level.

What chased us was altogether alien and terribly familiar.

Cave wide, its eyes were lit with man-sized fires but its face bore a delicate, oval sweetness with a serene smile on lips that looked far too human. Yet it was no man, no flesh and blood creature either. It was rock and sea and fire. Ocean water poured from its head as it rose higher, as waterfalls of hair it was, glistening in the moonlight and the peculiar orange flames of its eyes. Higher it rose, allowing the sight of a slender neck and what struck me as islands on their own on either side until it tilted that impossible head and those islands shrugged ever so slightly.

“Throw the light,” Lucient whispered again, hissing it at me.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The thing looked like a mountain, or a woman carved out of one, ready to speak to us, or eat us—a simple task with how large its mouth was. And it continued to keep pace without appearing to move, beyond blinking and tilting its head, as if intrigued by us—studying us. The sheer size of its face prevented seeing anything behind it, but surely it had to have a body attached somewhere. And as I wondered of it, my thoughts filled with soft fingers.

My love, Lucient prodded, she wants our light, but if I move to take it from you she will scream. We do not want her to scream. Throw. The. Light.

Mechanically, I snapped my arm back and chucked the wisplight off the side of the ship—realizing in that motion that her mouth was wider that the schooner, her eyes at least as tall as its mainmast. But I didn’t have the chance to worry too much of that as she swooned with the splash of that lamp in the water.

A harrowing wail through a deep cave that sound, and it brought a breeze and a wave with it as she sunk back into the black. We weathered the wave, schooner moving too quickly by then, but I kept my eyes stuck on where I thought she was. Too black that sea, too matching her rock, but I could follow the eyes—still burning beneath the water.

Then the mountain woman reached for the lamp floating uneasily on the rippling shadows of the water and the sight of those fingers, massive and rocky as they were, reminded me of the horrid Sea Witch’s island. She sunk deeper after, with only the glow of her eyes to remind me she lingered, and Lucient pulled me into a hug before I found breath to scream.

“You really haven’t been out to sea, have you, my love?” he asked through kisses on my neck.

I didn’t appreciate the mockery, or the insinuation that ours was a normal interaction to have in the open ocean; I’d read plenty of tales, heard more from sailors, and never any mention of her, “Maybe it’s for the best if that’s out here.”

Guiding me toward the cabin, he shivered and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing in close to his back as he explained, “While it’s not a common occurrence to see her, all sailors know of the Wandering Isle, and that she likes the song of wisplights.”

“Good we no longer have one then,” I said, wondering briefly if the wisplight had been a lure, a trap set by the Hunter, as I followed him into the cabin and below deck—darker than open night without the lamp.

“Yes, and good that our late Hunter chose such a speedy ship to store hers in,” Shiver not yet gone from his limbs, Lucient sighed as I held him closer before he turned in my arms and dug icy hands up my soaked shirt. Swooning together with the touch, he fed wet kisses to my neck, backing me into the walls of the hull and rubbing those chill hands around to my back to grip as I gasped.

“And so simple to sail, requiring so little attention,” I added through hitching breaths and, uninterested in explaining how I knew that, I was grateful he didn’t ask.

The smile, too bright to my eyes in all that dark, marked me a fool yet again—of course he knew—and he teased with tone, if not words as he freed my skin to yank at my breeches, “There is the matter of all these wet clothes to deal with.”

#writeblr #snippet #writing #novel #before deluca #why yes i did cut it off before the filth happened #when i tell you that it makes me giddy to put the wandering isle into other things you must understand #i am fucking cackling about it #i loves my big island lady #she is horrifying and wonderful

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legendaryprofessorwisteria · 1 year

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Hey Professor!

Don't worry about missing my name, it's pretty hectic over here too. I've been working with rehabilitating an entire pod of dratini (poor things were poached from Alola, and the sanctuary there doesn't have enough room), finishing up documentation to apply for a liscence to care for legendary pokémon myself, and now the Raidons. So like, I completely get it

I actually got to experience riding on the Miraidon at the sanctuary today, as I took both Raidons in for a general checkup. Both are very healthy, thank Arceus. The throat and tail on Miraidon seem to have turned into wheel-like rings and actually spin. Like, spin spin. Do they detach? I don't really know, but it was quite cool to watch. It also made for prime entertainment for the dreepy at the sanctuary, as they chased Miraidon and I around.

The Koraidon was sleeping the entire time, in a sunny patch nearby.

I hope everything with Lilith and the other Raidons at your lab go well!

- Aster

Hi Aster! So sorry for the late response, we have a Koraidon and a Miraidon here along with a few other Pokemon and they're keeping me pretty occupied, as is Lilith. Everyone is doing fairly well aside from the general global chaos, but it's times like these that I'm reminded why this isn't a part-time job...I'm going to respond to the bulk of this under a cut, though.

A pod of Dratini? You have wonderful problems, Aster. I hope they're doing well though, I know poaching can really mess with the psyche of Pokemon, especially young ones. Given your track record and the fact that the 'Raidons appear to be getting along well with you, the license will probably be a breeze though. I'm currently scrambling to get a Dangerous Legendary license myself, as I currently own the basic one from my grad program but there's a good chance most of the Paradox Pokemon will be classed as Dangerous like the Ultra Beasts are, though the 'Raidons appear to be exceptions to that.

It's awesome that Miraidon let you ride on it! Miraidon's wheels are...weird. As far as we can tell, they're actually solid energy constructs rather than flesh, allowing them to spin and move independently of the Pokemon's body. This also allows them to replicate some of the tight maneuvers that smooth wheels would normally struggle with, meaning they're about as nimble as Koraidon while retaining that absolutely blistering top speed.

I imagine that the Dreepy at the sanctuary quite enjoyed that, as I recall, Dreepy very much enjoy speeding after other fast Pokemon, especially Dragons, and Miraidon is likely a prime candidate. Both of these Paradox Pokemon seem to be much more playful than the rest, which is interesting. My pet theory is that because they're much stronger than the others, they don't have to be on guard or as aggressive all the time. If they had fewer natural threats, or even were the natural threats, it would explain why they're so much less paranoid - and why the other Paradox Pokemon seem to treat them as authorities.

#pokemon #koraidon #miraidon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon scarlet and violet spoilers #paradox event #paradox pokemon #in character #wisteria answers

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androideql · 2 years

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Bit of a long reflection summarised.

I frankly give no shits about how my "content" does. In a way, it makes it pretty hard to do anything because it means there isn't much of a motivation to finish anything, much less to share it. Now, it almost feels like I'm forcing myself to do it. I start thinking about making the post halfway through the process, and that feels like a chore. I hate it. I'm doing these things for myself. That used to be fine. It doesn't feel fine anymore. Now the the act of sharing anything, an intrinsically social action, nags at me with the same insistence my hamster chews on the bars of her cage after I change all the substrate.

Why am I thinking about posting this stuff? Aren't I a lot happier just doing the thing with zero feedback and engagement? Why am I subject myself to something that doesn't interest me? I'm not against it, but why is it an expectation when I have every single notification turned off and I barely look at the way people react?

I started sharing because I wanted something to occupy my time and thoughts other than a very specific problem that was fucking me up. And it used to be fine at first. Make a post, forget about it, see some nice comments months later, feel grateful. Neat shit. Awesome distraction. Talked to some cool people. Pats in the back and a thumbs up, but that's in the past.

It's warped now. It's warped from the pressure to demonstrate that all this time and all the materials I've wasted haven't actually been a waste. I'm guessing that the last five years of work may have messed with me. My employers extracting as much value as possible from me may have left me feeling that I have to be constantly proving I deserve to stay and continue to be paid. They held a power over my productivity. Out of a job; out of money. Out of the resources I needed to stay alive and do the things I enjoyed. Even though I had no time to enjoy them.

Well. I'm self-employed now. All I need to do is what I have to do, and I can spend the rest of my time on fuck all if I want to. Besides my responsibility to myself and my self-preservation, I don't need rules. I don't need to impress anyone for survival.

Inertia, however, has kept me in the same mindset for the past few months. I'm not sure how I want to go about shaking it off. I have noticed the issue, but that's just half of the trip. I might need to start journaling again.

Although, from all this exercise, I've concluded that, in a way, I want to reach a sort of inner greatness. Not for recognition, but for the satisfaction of dying feeling like I truly lived. It's not for the sake of approval, not for the sake of immortalizing myself, and not for the desire to be more than a beast aware that it exists and is doomed to stop existing eventually.

So if greatness that comes from the core and stays in there is my goal, then maybe that's a lead. Maybe, the outside needs to be as close to 100% an afterthought as possible again. Kind of hard to do given all this more recent conditioning to consider what is thought of me.

I guess I will have to learn to be my own boss in more ways than one, then. Fucking hell.

#it's a redundant ramble don't say I didn't warn you #i want a tag for this kind of thing so that i can find them later...#walk up in the club like what up i had a big thunk #tell me you're a millennial without saying you're a millennial #let's try another one #FUTURE CRINGE #there we go that's more like it #android talking

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fandom-puff · 3 years

Text

A Lion’s Feast

Pairing: tywin lannister x younger!wife!reader

Requested by: anon ‘Could you write a modern au for tywin lannister x younger wife reader. Maybe they have a Lannister family dinner and its all just chaotic.’

Notes: I didn’t end up doing this as a modern AU, because I found it easier to work with everything in like... Westerosi time frame, but I hope this is okay.

Warnings: older man/younger woman, political/arranged marriage, Joffrey, use of words like slut/whore etc (cheers, Cers), reference to Jaime and Cersei’s incest, awkward family dinner

Gif creds to owner

“We will be dining in the Queen’s chambers tonight,”

You tensed up, staring straight ahead as you walked through the gardens of the Red Keep with your lord husband. “Am I… in trouble?” You asked softly. You were new to King’s Landing, shipped over from the Vale to marry the Lord of Casterly Rock, and you weren’t quite used to the way King Joffrey’s court worked.

“No. I’ve arranged for us to dine together as a family. You have not properly met my children and grandchildren. You are a Lannister by marriage, you are their mother-in-law, whether they like it or not, and it’s high time we acted like it,” his voice had a bitter edge to it; it hadn’t taken long for Queen Cersei to make her distaste clear. While no one in court would dare insult Tywin Lannister, the girl from the Vale was an easy target for gossip. You had been called every name under the sun, but the Queen’s favourite jibe was ‘whore’.

“Alright,” you murmured, lowering your eyes. You knew there would be no point in arguing. You had quickly learnt that when your husband put his mind to something, there was no turning back. As a few men of the court crossed your path, you felt Tywin’s hand come to rest on the small of your back, and it did not move until you were in the tower of the Hand. You smiled softly as you caught sight of the steaming tub of hot water, scented with sweet oils as you entered your bedroom. “You’ve had this all planned out, haven’t you, my Lord?” You asked, a small smirk gracing your lips. “You should’ve just told my handmaidens to do it in my chambers, to save the walk up all of those stairs,”

Tywin smiled ever-so-slightly. “You’re hardly ever in your own chambers downstairs, wife,” he reminded you.

“Only because you’re the only person I really know in this godforsaken keep, and even then I don’t know you that well. Besides, if I stayed in my own chambers, I’d get lost and end up in the maze of dragon skulls below the keep,”

Tywin smirked, giving you a little push by the small of your back. “Bathe. Wear red, and preferably rubies and gold,” he said sternly. You sighed, knowing Tywin wanted you to dress the part, to look like the Lady of Casterly Rock. You bathed and dried, perfuming your skin and hair before pulling on your smallclothes, calling in your handmaiden to tighten your bodice, then help lace up your dress. It was a deep red, with golden embroidery on the bodice and cuffs that glimmered when you moved, just covering your shoulders and showing the swell of your breasts, and you fastened a pendant around your neck- a golden lion with tiny rubies for its eyes, tongue and claws. You braided back the front of your hair, but let the rest fall down over your shoulders.

You emerged from the room into Tywin’s main office, your hands folded in front of you. He surveyed you briefly before nodding, offering his arm.

You sat in silence as you ate, eyes fixed on your plate. Tywin was sat to your left, Jaime to your right. Cersei and Joffrey occupied the heads of the table, and Tyrion sat across from you, in between Myrcella and Tommen.

“More wine, my Lady?” Tyrion said out of the blue, holding up the jug. He gave you a slight smile, knowing how you must feel to be the outcast, like a stranger with the people you were meant to call family.

“I... yes, please. Thank you, my Lord,” you said.

Tyrion smiled as he poured, before filling his own glass. “Just Tyrion will suffice. Let us leave formality at the door,” you smiled slightly and nodded.

“I agree,” said Jaime, earning himself a sharp look from Cersei, who was used to her twin almost always siding with her. “Wasn’t the whole point of this evening to introduce you to us? As a family,” Cersei scoffed into her goblet. “We won’t get very far with ‘my lords’ and ‘my ladies’, will we?”

Tywin nodded his approval at his sons’ attitude and you smiled, beginning to relax a little, though the presence of Cersei and Joffrey kept you on edge. “Tell me, Lady YN, how is the Vale at this time? Have the northerners got their grubby claws on it yet?” Joffrey suddenly asked.

You froze slightly. You were here to talk, yes, but not talk politics. “The Vale... your grace, is not quite like the Reach, or the Riverlands, or even like Winterfell or Casterly Rock,” you said carefully, fully aware of all of the eyes on you. You looked at Tywin, and when he gave you an approving nod, you turned back to the king and continued. “The majority of the Vale is mountain, with the valley you desire buried between them. Even Robb Stark’s best men couldn’t seize it. No one could. To take the Vale, one must take the Eyrie. To take the Eyrie... well... you just couldn’t,” you were happy sharing this fact, as it was known across Westeros that the Eyrie was impenetrable.

“There are other ways to the Eyrie, though. Marriage,” Cersei said. It was the first time she had spoken, and she had a conniving gleam in her eye.

“There is only one heir to the Vale. Jon Arryn was murd-died before he could have any more children. Only little Robert Arryn is the Lord of the Vale, and he’s just past his sixth name day I believe. Besides, his mother is... very protective of her boy. As I’m sure you can understand, your grace, as a mother yourself,” you said cooly. You didn’t know what possessed you to speak that way to the Queen, but something about speaking of your home, your true home filled you with confidence.

“Indeed. There is nothing quite like a mother’s love,” she responded, fixing you with a cold stare.

“I’m unfamiliar, having lost my mother when I was seven,” you said.

“Does the Eyrie really have a trap door that leads nowhere?” Tommen Baratheon suddenly asked, breaking the silence between you and his mother.

You smiled softly at the little boy. How could someone so innocent come from the loins of a beast like Cersei. You supposed some of the good nature came from his father- his true father, that is, Jaime Lannister. “Yes,” you said. “They call it the Moon Door. It’s a big trap door that opens into the sky. If the Lord of the Vale commands, prisoners can be thrown from it,” you stopped, realising quickly how gruesome that must sound to a little boy.

Tommen simply shrugged. “I suppose that must be less messy,” he said, returning his focus to his food. Soon Tommen and Myrcella were bundled off to bed, and Myrcella told you rather sweetly that she liked the way you did your hair.

Once the children were gone, it left only you and Tywin, his three children and the King. Tywin suggested you move away from the dining table to sit and drink wine. Joffrey excused himself, utterly disinterested with continuing on with the evening. You felt a little lighter after he left, although you could feel Cersei staring daggers at you.

“It must feel strange,” Jaime said. “Coming down here from the Vale. I imagine it’s all rather confusing, and daunting,”

“You can say that again,” you said. “I thought I’d just get bundled off to Casterly Rock, never seen or spoken to,”

Tywin laughed slightly. “Come now, wife, we do have some level of decency in this family,” he said. You smiled shyly, looking at your lap. He was often a little more... relaxed after a few glasses of wine.

“Ha!” Cersei said, having also drunk a fair bit. She had been holding her tongue all night, and it seemed now it had loosened. “Once he puts an heir in your belly, you’ll be shipped off to Casterly Rock. And if it’s a girl, you’ll be spared a visit or two, until you give us a son. That’s all you’re here for, that’s all you’re good for,”

You sat up a little straighter, responding before Tywin could. “I am aware of the general concept of political marriages. Your father gets a wife and an heir, my family gets money, or protection or something of the sort. The Seven know, you Lannisters have gold pouring out of your ears,”

“I believe the phrase is that we ‘shit gold,’” Tyrion supplied with a smirk, making you chuckle.

“You think this is a game,” Cersei hissed. “I’ve seen you, prancing around court, dressed in red and gold, following father around like a lost dog! Fluttering about like a common slut,”

“Cersei-” Jaime said lowly.

“No! No! Can’t you see, she has her claws in father the same way Margaery has her claws in Joffrey! And you want me to accept that whore as my mother,”

It was silent. Cersei panted, now standing up. Jaime and Tyrion looked between her and Tywin. Tywin remained stoic, although his eyes revealed the way he seethed. But it was you who spoke first.

“I don’t expect you to accept me as your mother. I am not your mother. Nor will I ever try to be, or call myself that,” you said quietly, contrasting the Queen’s outburst. “I will, however, do my best to serve my husband, to provide him with the heir that is expected of me, the same way you provided King Robert with his heirs,”

Cersei snorted. “I’m sure you do a fine job of serving, you brazen little who-”

“Enough, Cersei!” Tywin finally said, standing up. “Whether you like it or not, I have married YN. She will give me an heir, or two, or more. And she will remain the lady of Casterly rock, no matter how much you protest,”

“She’s not fit to be lady of Casterly rock. She can barely curtsey,” she spat. “You have heirs, father,” she said, almost pleasing. “What need have you for a little whore,”

“I have a son who swore an oath, another who has more interest in wine and whoring, and a daughter who is not nearly as clever and tactical as she thinks she is. Casterly rock will not be left to either of you when I’m gone. It will be left to mine and YN’s son,”

“It could be! It could be left to one of my children,” Cersei hissed.

“One of your children? I wouldn’t put a bastard on the seat of Casterly Rock,” Tywin said cooly. Cersei opened her mouth to argue but Tywin held up his hand. “Give it up, Cersei. You told me yourself, my legacy is a lie. You have had your chance to build the Lannister name. Now it is time for YN and I to rebuild what you have trampled into the ground with your lies and your... acts,” he said with disgust. “And if I so much as hear the words whore or slut to describe my wife, I will resign as hand, withdraw my knights and my gold, as well as that of the Vale and leave you to pick up the pieces of this kingdom that I have been holding together. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from the Tyrells. Come YN,” he said, turning away from his daughter and resting his hand on your waist, guiding you out of the Queens chambers and back to the tower of the hand, not giving you a chance to curtsey to the Queen.

As the door slammed shut, Tyrion drained the rest of his wine and clapped his hands as he stood. “Well. That went well,”

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen

#tywin lannister imagine #tywin lannister x you #tywin lannister x reader #tywin x you #Tywin Lannister #request #got #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #Joffrey has his own warning #Cersei being herself #2021

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Try A Little Tenderness

Summary: Han Seo gets treated with kindness and affection and he doesn’t know how to process these foreign feelings. Also he gets a first eye contact of the mafia couple.

Author's note: A few of you said you would like to read this so I popped it out real quick in between real life and all that mess, I did something like this for IOTNBO and really enjoyed that sometimes it’s fun to see a relationship from an outsider’s pov. I also saw a few people say that they ship our puppy with a certain someone so I threw in some crumbs because the visuals would be very pretty and good for my health. It has talks of past abuse (see psychopath brother) but I don’t think it’s any darker than the regular show. Happy reading!

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to realize that he's nowhere near good or smart enough to keep alive such less work so closely to them and listen to their plans. They trust him, he can tell by the way that conversations don't taper off if he comes into the room with another question about how to use the copy machine- there are so many buttons and it's confusing figuring it out by myself.

This first time he sheepishly asks for help after reading articles online and coming no closer to understanding the massive machine, he expects more fanfare; a slap on the cheek, a rap on the forehead or just a simple sigh and "idiot" that he would smile in the face of but the word would stick to his heart for days on end. His eyes were glued to the ground after his inquiry so he missed whatever look they originally gave him but surprisingly enough Ms. Hong stepped forward, he almost flinched as the hand approached his view but instead of pain he just felt warmth on his shoulder.

Guiding him with the hand on his shoulder, she led him back over to the machine and patiently explained all the buttons to him, even smiling gently when he pulled out a little notepad to write down the many directions.

"You really only need these three buttons this is the power button, but this thing is ancient so sometimes it may need a good kick." He jumped marginally at the loud bang of her foot against the side, quickly writing that down as well.

Really old. Needs kick.

"Then you press this button to choose the amount of copies, choose double or single sided and choose with staple and that's it." His eyes darted rapidly trying to keep up with her directions while taking his notes. It sounded simple enough but his brother had taught him that if there was a way to fuck something up, he would find it, naturally. So his nerves skyrocketed when she turned to him with a grin and said, "Are you ready for another test? Make 20 copies of these." She handed him a small stack of papers.

His heart jerked in his chest and suddenly he was fifteen years old again staring at a test sheet and knowing none of the answers. It was hard to study with the fear of Han Seok barging into his room at any moment to do another sick experiment on him, once he had sliced his finger just to watch it bleed. He'd told his father that he accidentally cut himself while cooking and let the shame wash over him as he got a look that screamed that he was incompetent and pathetic.

"Han Seo? Are you okay? You seem like you're a million miles away." The pretty lawyer's concerned voice brought him back to reality and he could feel the stares of the other men in the room on his skin, Vincenzo being the heaviest. He really didn't want to look stupid on front of the man for some unexplored reason. He swallowed hard before facing the machine, feeling like he was going off to war.

He pressed the big power button, shaken when nothing happened but suddenly remembered his notes and with an almost unnoticeable glance he found his answer, swiftly kicking the beast of a copier he watched it roar to life and almost on autopilot he mimicked the motions that Ms. Hong had just demonstrated and watched in terror as the paper was swallowed and the copies were spit out from the compartment in the bottom.

I did it.

Everything seemed to be in order and the machine hadn't exploded. Yet.

"Oh."

The triumphant smile that had graced his face slide off like rain on a windowpane.

"I messed up. I'm sorry. Please let me try-"

He was bowing before he could stop himself, shame a familiar friend at this point in his life. There were very little moments that he didn't feel a tsunami of shame crashing over him in a thick heavy sheet.

"You just forget to select stapled. But that's minor, we can just staple them by hand." She responded nonchalantly picking up the copies and bringing them over to the table, "Good job though. Next time you'll probably get it perfect right?"

It was pathetic. He was pathetic. There was no reason for pride to grow in his chest like a mustard seed, he had only completed a basic task. Something that even a monkey could, actually monkeys could do even more complicated tasks. It was nothing to be proud of. He shouldn't have been smiling as largely as he was, they would think he was insane and kick him out.

But.

She'd said he did a good job. That wasn't a phrase he was used to hearing, he wasn't someone who did anything worth praising. He shuffled away back to the shelves that needed to be organized in alphabetical order, moving a large file to the front of the row unaware that there was an equally huge smile on his face. It stayed there for the rest of the day.

Working there was different from working with his brother. Astronomically. Nobody hit him there, even when he made mistakes. Instead he just got three heads over his shoulder helping him fix said mistake or Mr. Nam pushing his chair out of the way and taking over with only a gentle chide of, "Be careful next time." And it's clear that they all care for and respect each other. It's evident in the way that there's no clear hierarchy at the law firm, when they have meetings they alternate on who makes the coffee for the team, take turns buying meals and they are all allowed to speak and share their ideas without waiting for approval. It's nothing like he's used to and it makes him wonder if this is normal and what he's used to is...not.

It's enough to overwhelm him.

Then something catches his attention in the peripheral of his eye, Ms. Hong impatiently goes to take a sip of her coffee ignoring Vincenzo's firm warning against doing so and she flinches at the heat of the beverage, sticking out her tongue instantly after the first sip, blowing and huffing theatrically- something he's grown used to seeing from her. This isn't what shocks him though, it's Vincenzo's reaction. Immediately he walks over to the water cooler, filling a little paper cup before bringing it back over to her and thrusting the cool liquid into her outstretched hands.

"I told you to be careful." He says voices filled with exasperation as she gulps down the water, shooting him puppy dog eyes.

"I thouf it mould be cool enouf." She replies around her extended tongue and he watches the interaction with wide eyes, that only grow larger when the murderous Mafia member picks up the lawyers mug of steaming liquid and starts to blow on her coffee, his lips puckered into a perfect o. Ms. Hong watches absently as if this is expected behavior and after a few minutes, Vincenzo takes a sip of her coffee deeming it cool enough before handing it back to her. She takes a sip dangerously close to the spot his mouth had just occupied and hums at the temperature, shooting him a brilliant smile. To his utter surprise the usually stoic Mafia member smiles back fondly, before walking off to make a call. Ms. Hong watches him walk away before realizing that he's watching their interaction and a delicate blush blossoms in her cheeks before she stutters walking off to her table.

He glances between the two with his head tilted. Feeling curious.

Once he starts looking it's almost indecent how often the two touch each other, Vincenzo's hand never too far from Ms. Hong's back or arm and she never reacts to the sudden touches, no flinching or tensing up when a foreign hand is suddenly on her person. That's a new concept for him, he doesn't like surprise touches.

Then there's the fact that Mr. Cassano never allows Ms. Hong to hold anything, when she comes bustling through the doors with bags in her hand the smell of pasta permeating the room the older man is already making his way across the room tugging the bags from her hands wordlessly. He places them carefully on the table before smoothly dragging out her chair and guiding her into it with a hand on her waist.

"I brought your favorite. Authentic Italian food." She smirks up at him, opening the containers and he feels his mouth water at the tantalizing aroma that fills the room even more than before.

"It smells amazing! Where did you find authentic Italian food?" He asks inserting himself into their conversation and for a minute, he second guesses himself gearing up for a blow. But it never comes and Ms. Hong waves him closer, pushing a container of thick noodles in his direction.

"Are you hungry? Here have some!" She shoves chopsticks into his hand and watches him eagerly and he can do nothing but follow her orders, stuffing the tomato sauce drenched noodles into his mouth. When he looks up he sees that they are both watched him avidly, awaiting his review and he smiles around his bulging cheeks putting up two thumbs.

"It's delicious! Best Italian food I've ever had!" He stares excitedly and he's unprepared for Vincenzo's sudden glare, it's the first time the man has thrown such a look his way he gulps nervously at the unnerving sight.

"What- did I say something wrong?" He warily asks watching the Italian man angrily stomp off whilst muttering something indecipherable to him but that makes Ms. Hong smile mischievously, grabbing the container and chasing after the fleeing man.

"Stop being a snob! Have some, say ahhhh!" He can't comprehend the sight that he's watching, dumbfounded as the petite lawyer hangs on Mr. Cassano's arm and tries to feed him the Italian food.

"No! I don't want it, stop! Why do you keep bringing that here?" The Italian Mafia boss whines pushing her away but he notes that he never pushes her too hard, his shoves are very soft barely rocking her slight body. When she starts to chase him around the room, Han Seo can only watch in shock the behavior too childish for him to reconcile that these are the same people who have been thwarting all his brother's plans. Not even Mr. Nam entering the office is enough to stop their shenanigans and in the end it's Vincenzo who admits defeat, backed into a wall. Han Seo waits for her to give him the food and for this moment to come to an end. But neither one of them make a move, frozen against the wall staring at each other looking a million miles away.

It's then that it clicks for him.

They are more than just partners.

When one of the various plaza tenants burst through the doors only then is the tense moment severed, Ms. Hong jumps back flustered thrusting her hand at his face and Mr. Cassano has to open his mouth lest he get smashed in the jaw. He watches amused as a grimace crosses the older man's face as he swallows the food as if it's poison.

Ms. Hong flies across to help the cute pianist that he's seen around a plaza a few times. He stares at her from under his bangs, looking away when she catches his eyes. Coughing loudly he walks away to do something important that doesn't involve losing his wits because of a pretty girl. Maybe he can talk to Mr. Cassano later just to ask about her, there's nothing wrong with being curious about your neighbors after all.

He doesn't know where else to go so he comes to Jipuragi, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees all the lights off. He pulls the key that Mr. Nam gave him from his pocket, still in disbelief that they trusted him enough to give him a key to the establishment. He had blinked away tears when the older man pushed the small metal object into his hands, it felt like a huge responsibility. Almost like he was being accepted into their makeshift family. It was far more than he deserved.

Sitting down on his chair, he lets the agony wash over him. His cheek is throbbing, sore and swollen from the open handed slaps against the skin. Their stocks had dropped again from all the accusations and bad publicity, and his brother had once again taken it out on him berating him like a dog before kicking me out. It's nothing new, nothing he's never experienced before but it feels worst. Now that he's been around people who don't treat him like he's dirt, it hurts even more to go back to the old ways. He's so lost in thought he doesn't notice the door opening or the person creeping inside.

"What are you doing here?"

He jumps at the unexpected voice, twisting in his seat panicked. His heart rate settles once he sees the cool eyes of the man he's grown to respect. Vincenzo Cassano. He slumps in his seat, no excuses coming to mind and then it's too late and the other man is crossing the room and taking a seat across from him.

Those cold eyes narrow as they search his face, "What happened to your face?"

Images of his brother looming over him and slapping him on the ground flood his mind, along with his screams of pain as he pleads for him to stop. Then visions of a much smaller version of himself pleading similarly as his brother pulled his hair and laughed at his cries. He's crying before he ever realizes that the tear has condensed.

Vincenzo tenses across the table, looking lost and uncomfortable.

It only makes him cry harder. It's so much better than getting hit.

Without a word the Mafia boss stands up pushing his chair away, stomping powerfully to the door. He watches alarmed before finding his voice and calling out, "Where are you going?"

The man looks at him darkly answering, "To kill your brother."

He gapes at the statement said so matter of fact and a bubble of laughter rises to the surface, making him chuckle through his tears. He rears back further at the other man's blatant confusion following his outburst, feeling freer than he's ever felt because this is the first time someone has tried to defend him.

It feels nice. Better than nice, unbelievable.

His heart thumps as he looks at the other man that he has every reason to be scared of but instead he feels safer than ever in his presence, it almost feels like what a brother should. A real brother not the one that he has who would kill him tomorrow without batting an eyelash.

"He's not done suffering yet. But thank you." Vincenzo shifts awkwardly at his show of gratitude never accepting of thanks something he has noticed while observing the enigmatic man, he vaguely wonders what this man has been through to make the complicated person he sees in front of him. Maybe one day he'll ask.

"Well if you're going to stay here, there's a bed up there."

Impulsively he replies, "Have you ever used it before? Is it really okay for me to use?"

He's met with a puzzled look, which he returns with a calculating one and then he spares a quick glance over to Ms. Hong's table and the gears click and Vincenzo is tomato faced and yelling, "Watch your mouth you brat! Do you want a beating?"

It shouldn't be funny with his face still throbbing from a beating just hours earlier, but he laughs so much his stomach hurts and that pain dulls the ache in his face.

"Oh my goodness what happened to your face?" He's barely able to get out an answer before Ms. Hong is jogging across the room, ever so gently catching his face in her small warm hands. Immediately he's reminded of his mother and he has to look away before he embarrasses himself.

He mumbles a lie about tripping but she's already sending a ferocious knowing look over to her partner and he watches their silent conversation with large eyes, until her voice breaks the pregnant pause.

"I can't wait until we kill that punk. How dare he put a hand on you? I'll go get some medicine, you-" she points to Vincenzo, "get him some ice before it starts to swell." The man automatically follows her instructions, looking like a dutiful husband.

And that's how Mr. Nam finds them, Vincenzo pressing ice wrapped in towels against his cheek as Ms. Hong squeezes creamy ointment onto her finger and smears it across his cheek. He blames his glossy eyes on the pain in his cheek and not the one in his chest.

It's his first time walking around the plaza and he tries to ignore the suspicious eyes that trail him, he knows that they know him as their enemy's brother and underling so he doesn't blame them for not trusting him, he would do the same. The clang of piano keys catches his attention and leads him to the source of the noise like a siren luring lost men, he watches transfixed through the glass as delicate fingers fly across the keys in a frenzy. It’s mesmerizing.

He was forced to get piano lessons when he was younger, he was surprisingly good at it even better than Han Seok thus his brother became enraged and smashed his fingers putting a permanent end to his lessons.

The music lulls him into a sense of comfort so much so he doesn't realize when it ends and the small pianist notices that she has an audience.

When he finally looks up and catches her eye, he freaks out expecting her to look at him like all the others have today so he's unprepared for the door to slide open and for her to beckon him in with a crooked finger. He walks in almost as if in a trance, she's so pretty it's almost unnatural a supernatural glow surrounding her in her white flowing dress.

"How does it feel working at Jipuragi?" She asks suddenly catching him off guard, he sputters before taking a deep breath and looking away before replying, "I feel useful. It's....new."

That's all he can disclose and honestly it's more than he intended on saying but a knowing smile stretches across her pale face.

"Vincenzo, he's someone special who can make others feel special too." He smarts at the clear adoration in her voice, of course. She liked Vincenzo too. Every woman at this plaza probably did, the Italian was much more appealing than he would ever be- naturally charismatic and handsome, every woman's dream.

He smiles defeated stepping further into the space, running his fingers longingly across the piano keys. Something else that just wasn't meant for him.

"You like him too. It makes sense, he's really cool." He whispers, self deprecation swaddling him like a blanket.

It's obvious who else he's referring to only Vincenzo and Ms. Hong seem to be in denial at this point everyone else assuming that they're already dating.

She doesn't deny his accusation. It's his own fault for having hope but that knowledge does nothing to tamper the hurt that rumbles in his chest.

She hums before walking closer to him, fingers trailing across the black and white keys.

"I did. But they're good together."

He stills in shock, lightly pressing down on the key beneath his finger the sound vibrating through his skin. Then she presses another key that rings harmoniously with his and he can't not look over at her and he jolts breath stuck in his throat when he finds her already staring at him with a serene smile, "There are a lot of interesting people here though, someone else has caught my eye."

He plays the final note to fulfil the chord they started and their eyes never leave the other, music floating on the air between them.

Full. He’s never known what that felt like before but now he feels full of everything and he can't go back, can't ever go back to the way things once were.

There’s no looking back, only forward.

#vincenzo #jang han seo #best boy pov #chayenzo #but as his doting parents #a new ship that I think would be absolutely adorkable #I want to put han seo in my pocket #little brother energy #hyungs #Vincenzo #vincenzo cassano

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this-is-spn20 · 3 years

Text

FLUFF ALPHABET! Sam Winchester!

A/N: Here’s Sammy boy! My small adorable baby! Let me know what you guys think about this!

-Marissa

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A ctivities- What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sam is a pretty laid-back man. When he sees a chance at relaxing with you, he snatches as quickly as possible. Whether it’s just walking or driving around towns, going to the local library (cause God knows the only book they have at the bunker are the Wizard of Oz books, and the men of letters’ books.), to looking up fun recipes to try with you. The man will always keep you occupied!

B eauty- What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sam likes that despite you being very soft-spoken, you’re nowhere near dumb. You’re also very confident. Of course, you’ll still ask Sam what he thinks if you piece together a somewhat bold outfit. But you might as well call him Bruno Mars cause- well you know.

I feel like if you are an artist of some sort, he might decide to pick up your art of choice as a hobby for when he has no research or hunts. Maybe if you draw, he’ll buy both of you sketchbooks and pencils. Or if you use a tablet he might buy you a better one. He’ll try doing simple drawings to start off with a tree or two. An eye here and there. He struggling and he’s probably gonna get a bit upset with himself if his skills don’t pick up like yours. But he’s trying really hard! If you like making music, he might ask you to play guitar. He might even ask you to teach him how to sing! But be patient, he can barely carry a tune but he’s so happy to learn! Might take him almost a year to get the hang of it, but once he does, he is an absolute Beast with some strings!

C omfort- How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Sam has anxiety himself so he knows the signs when one is coming on. He’s been around stressful things/people/events all his life. His father was abusive throughout his and Dean’s childhood. When he ran away to go to college, he had to learn to interact with new environments and people. In conclusion, the man KNOWS what anxiety is. And how to handle it. He’ll have you sit down and close your eyes. He won’t touch you just in case it makes you more nervous. He’ll breathe slowly with you, serving as a guide to get your bearings. Once you’ve slowed your breathing he knows you can’t hold anything so he gets you a glass of water with a straw and holds the glass for you. He knows you probably won’t want to eat anything so he just picks you up when you say he can, and brings you to bed, and reads you to sleep while holding you close.

D reams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Sam knows for sure he wants to marry you. He also wants kids with you but the risk of being raised in the life he kept him up at night. Now don’t get him wrong, he knows that whatever happens, family will take care of it. They always do. But he’s not sure if that’s a risk worth taking. He just wants to have the apple pie life. He’d kill every monster with his bare hands just to have that with you.

E qual- Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Sam is quite dominant in the relationship. He always takes care of everything for you. He doesn't buy into the stereotype that women should be doing everything for their partners. He tries to help you out with everything and he doesn't take no for an answer. You've known for a while that Sam's love language is Acts of Service. All he's done all his life is help people, so it just seeps into the relationship. Sure he believes that a relationship should be a healthy balance of 50\50, but at the same time, he can't help take over and take care of you. This man is just precious.

F ight- Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Depending on what the fight was about Sam would be pretty open to forgiving you pretty quickly. However sweet Sam can be, if he believes that he has even a pinky toe to stand on in the fight, he’ll stick to it. It’s only when the shouting has gotten too much for you that you walk away that he may see where you’re coming from. Give him a or two. That way you both had time to cool down. You’ll spend the rest of the day talking it through, seeing each other’s perspectives. Even if you guys can’t agree with each other, you’ll know how to better handle the situation next time.

G ratitude- How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Even though he mostly does mundane things for you, you try to help out as much as he’ll let you. For example, if you noticed that he has a lot of research to do, while he’s sleeping or is on a supply run, you’ll continue his research so that he’ll have more time to relax and let loose a bit more. You think he doesn’t notice but he does, and he appreciates it. It makes him feel like he hasn’t been ‘slacking off’, or that he hasn’t wasted too much time doing other things. Sometimes you’ll even finish the research and he’ll have nothing much to do for a while. Except relaxing with you of course!

H onesty- Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Sam doesn’t have to hide much from you. You’re a damn good hunter. He would even go as far as to say you were better than him and Dean. He knows damn well you can take care of yourself and that you don’t like being babied often. He knows your secrets as well as you know his. It takes a big weight off his shoulders, knowing he doesn’t have to hide who he is with you.

I nspiration- Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You were always an adventurous and carefree person. You always had a hard time balancing fun and work. Sometimes it got you into trouble. Sam noticed this when you two first met and as your relationship got more serious and tried to help you with the balence. By all means you aren’t magically better, but you’re learning. Sam on the other hand, had the same issue. The work and fun balance is a tricky one to master. You help Sam have more fun, like you he’s getting better at having more fun. But again it’s not going to happen overnight. Oh and you eat a salad of two once a month now!

J ealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

On the rare occasion the Sam gets extremely jealous, it's usually when someone tries to touch. Regardless of whether you let it happen (for fun) or not, he can’t help himself. He wants you all to himself. No Sharing!!

K iss- Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Sam is a very good kisser. He always kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in years. Most of the time his kisses are very rough but intimate. The first kiss was after four dates. Yes that’s a long time but you wanted to make sure you did this right with Sam. Plus he reassured you that he’d wait as long as you wanted to. You were sitting next to Sam in the Library doing some light research since most of it had gotten done earlier that week. The tension had been building up all week, you were finally ready to kiss Sam. Despite this not being your first kiss, you hadn’t kissed many people so understandably, you were nervous. You reached your arm over his and gently closed his laptop and angled your body toward his. You leaned over to him slowly, creeping your hand to his shoulder and finally your lips connected. Sam’s hand softly grabbed your hand on his shoulder and you both stayed like that until you both needed air. That was one of, if not, the most intimate moment you’ve had with Sam so far.

L ove Confession- How would they confess to their s/o?

Sam would be a bundle of nerves when he tries to confess. He’s tried to do it at least three times but each time he either got too nervous or something would interrupt him. Eventually settled for being simple, yet intimate. He had invited you to come to the library with him to sit and read for a while. It was about an hour and a half of you both being immersed in your own books that he told you he was going to the coffee shop in the bookstore to get a coffee. He got you your favorite drink. He had the barista give him a sharpie before they made your drink, then he wrote his message to you and bought you the drink when the order was done. You could see Sam was shaking and fidgeting but you couldn’t tell why.You figured you’d let him tell you when he’s ready. If only you know. You were only a few sips into your drink when you noticed some writing on the cup. Curious, you read the message which read;

(Y/n), I have loved you from the best of times to the worst. Would you do the honor of going on a date with me?

-Sam

You sat up, a bit stunned. You looked at Sam to see him smiling shyly at you. You couldn’t do much but giggle and nod at the giant softie.

M arriage- Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Marriage is something Sam and you have talked a lot about it. You two know you definitely want to get married but the question was when. You want to do it sooner rather than later. While Sam agrees, he also feels like that it should be a sign of both of you leaving life for good. Sam is a very nostalgic person, which means he’ll most likely recreate him asking you out and your first date. At the end of the night he’d get down on one knee and before he gets to say one word you burst into tears. When he finishes his speech, you of course say yes and the night continues...elsewhere.

N icknames- What do they call their s/o?

Sugar is used more often than not. Baby and babygirl are pretty prevalent. Honey Bunch is used less but when he does call you that usually puppy dog eyes are shortly behind.

O n Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When Sam is in love it’s less obvious to everyone, but if they know Sam, they’ll notice the little things. Things like Sam now has permanent smile lines and his shoulders don’t hold so much tension anymore. If you didn’t come on a hunt with him and Dean he always has Dean stop off to get a bouquet of flowers. Of course he gets shit from Dean but he still does it everytime cause he is a good big brother.

P DA- Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

While Sam will let anyone know that you’re together (if need be), he’s pretty subtle about it. There is the subtle hand on your thigh or around your waist. Maybe a little quick forehead kiss but other than that unless they knew you, someone wouldn’t be able to guess you two are together.

Q uirk- Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Sam has this really deep, rich, raspy type of voice. That makes him the BEST narrator ever! He often reads you to sleep when you two spend a lazy night in or if you have a nightmare. He’s there with a book you’ve been reading and he reads you a chapter or two before you’re out like a light.

R omance- How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Sam is the KING of romance. When he plans something for you, he goes all out! When it comes to making you happy, he’ll do whatever it takes. There are almost no limits to his love. He lives by the term “Happy Wife, Happy Life.”. Sam is pretty nostalgic so he’ll be cliche, but he’ll be creative and add his own twist to it! So you could say he’s pretty creative.

S upport- Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Sam loves learning about your goals and helping you achieve them. If you have 5 different goals, he's all there for you, helping you learn ways to achieve them quicker. If you want to. If you feel like those goals are impossible to reach, he’s there to help you see nothing’s impossible.

T hrill- Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

While Sam likes to have a solid routine, he tries to keep things *spicy* when it comes to your relationship. Whether it's something mundane or outrageous, you and Sam try your best to keep things fun for the both of you.

U nderstanding- How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

You and Sam know each other so well it's gotten to the point where if you or him need something, you know what’s needed and how much before the other even opened their mouth. When this happens, Dean just kinda stares at the both of you with a “what the actual fuck?’ look.

Sam: *sees you walking into the kitchen* Hey babe we-

Y/N: We need to get some milk today. You wanna leave at 11?

Sam: *goes back to drinking his coffee* Yep.

Dean: *freaking the fuck out*

V alue- How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Sam knew from the first date that his life would be in your hands. He trusts you with everything he has. What’s your relationship worth to him? More than any diamonds, jewels, or power. Nothing can ever be worth more than you.

W ild Card- A random Fluff Headcanon.

Sam took you to an event at a bar one night for a date. The theme that night was ‘50’s and 60’s dance night!’ He bought you a dress that would be worn in that era and he wore his brand new tux he bought, just for tonight. Just for you. Your feet were screaming in your heels but you and Sam were having too much fun to leave the dance floor. When you guys got home that night Sam gave you the BEST foot rub ever.

X OXO- Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In private, Sam will smother you with kisses and cuddles. The man can almost never let you go. The poor touch starved baby.

Y earning- How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Sam likes to log in to your Spotify, he knows most likely wherever you are, you’re listening to your music. He likes to listen to your playlists with you. It makes him feel closer to you.

(He’ll never admit it but you have better taste in music than him.)

Z eal- Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

It’ll be a close call but if he had to choose to save Dean or you, he’d choose you. It’d break him for a while, but he knows his brother wants him to have the apple pie life with you. And in the end, he’d always do it. No matter how hard it’d be for him and you every time, he wouldn’t change a thing.

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A/N: Thank you guys for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Requests are always open!

Spread Love!

-Marissa

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #dean winchester #supernatural imagines #supernatural

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Hallucination

Prompts: i love your fics insanity and real or not real!! can i request another fic where a side is struggling to tell what's real and what's a hallucination? can be in the same like universe (carrying on with one of the stories) or a completely different universe/person, idm - anon

*crashes into ur asks*

Hey if you’re still taking requests could you do just Janus comforting someone on the verge of a meltdown? Like lots of soft words and caring Janus? He’s my comfort character and I love him - anon

Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3 Part 1 (ish)

Warnings: talk of hallucinations, uncertainty

Pairings: focus on creativitwins, intrulogical, dukeceit, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Word Count: 3864

Sometimes Thomas watches things and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes Thomas decides to watch something late at night, when it’s dark outside, even though Virgil tells him it’s a bad idea, and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

Sometimes when Virgil has gone to his room and he’s fine, but Thomas’s mind can’t stop playing it over and over and over and over, he starts to expand on it and it isn’t Remus’s fault.

He can’t remember the name of the video. Something to do with being stuck on a misty island in the middle of nowhere with a monster and villagers that wait to sacrifice tourists to the monster to sate its hunger. Something about a daring rescue or an escape plan doomed to fail.

Something like…

“Do not go outside. Do not turn on the lights. Don’t make sounds.” The old man draws the curtains sharply across the window. “And whatever you do, do not look out the window.”

It’s late now. Patton’s asleep. Virgil’s in his room, probably asleep. The rest of them are still awake in the Imagination. It’s slumber party night for the twins, having created a big sprawling mansion in the Imagination for them to run around in. Logan is here, Janus is here, Roman is here.

Villagers?

They’re talking about what Thomas watched.

Logan straightens his legs out. “It’s not a bad practice, staying quiet.”

Janus rolls his eyes. “Come on, what is this, some haunted island?”

“You saw the people in the video.” Logan rests his weight on his elbows. “Something was amiss.”

“The only thing amiss was how awfully boring you lot are being.” Janus sighs and stands, stretching. “Well, I think a night of entertainment sounds wonderful.”

“The old man said to be quiet,” Roman points out. Wait, is the old man real?

“Do you know how prone to flights of fancy old people are?” Janus smiles. “Incredibly.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh don’t start that.” Janus rolls his eyes and his gaze lands on Remus. A smirk crawls across his face. “Well,” he drawls, sauntering across the room, “someone’s being awfully quiet.”

Remus just shrugs. Janus crouches down.

“What do you think about this monster,” he asks, tapping his fingers on his chin, “about the thing that sneaks around this island, peering into windows, through the keyholes of locked doors?”

“Janus,” Logan warns.

“What? I just want to hear what our other little scientist thinks about this.” He raises his eyebrows when Remus won’t hold his gaze. “No? Nothing? Need more data? Well, I’m sure you could ask around if you wanted to.”

“We’re not supposed to leave,” he says softly.

“I know you’re a goody-two-shoes, Remus, but you’ll never get anything done that way.”

“Leave him alone, Janus,” Roman says with a wink, “he’s just mad at how pathetic the monster design was.”

Long limbs. Dark eyes. Moved like shadow.

“And the Boy Scout, coming to the rescue.” Janus rolls his eyes as he stands. “Aren’t you tired of being so boring?”

Roman holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m all for exploring!”

Janus sighs. “Ever the dashing prince, are we?”

“Ask nicely and I may sweep you off your feet too.”

The banter continues. Logan just sighs and pulls out a journal, the pen emerging from god-knows-where as he writes. Remus swallows and glances toward the window.

In. Out. In. Out.

Roman and Janus are still tossing barbs and jests back and forth. Remus cannot help but notice how loud they are being.

The old man said to be quiet.

Logan looks up when he begins to crouch down and shuffle behind the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Changing.” He gives a half-hearted smile. “Texture spoons ran out.”

He nods and goes back to his writing. Remus glances at the nightstand. Only 8:00. The conversation gets progressively louder. Logan joins in eventually, rolling his eyes at Roman’s increasingly elaborate proposals to bring in jukeboxes, disco lights, and speakers.

“Let’s think about this logically. If the ghosts or whatever the hell the monster is sensitive to sound, why not pump everything to like, 300 decibels and blast their eardrums out?”

“Or it could be that they just hear things like we hear things,” Logan remarks.

“Mm.”

“Why do I have to be quiet?” Roman spreads his arms. “I should not have to deal with that!”

“Actually, you know what,” Janus says gleefully, “I agree. We shouldn’t have to be quiet. If this place doesn’t have adequate monster protection, that’s on them.”

This place…didn’t they make it safe? Roman said they made it safe. Is it not safe anymore? Are the shadows—is the monster here?

“Always the entitlement,” Logan sighs, seemingly resigning himself to the voice of reason as he settles his journal to the side, “assuming that everyone should cater to your needs.”

“Oh come on, Logan. You have to admit that having a hotel that isn’t secure makes little to no sense.”

Hotel? Isn’t this still the mansion?

The low buzz of an LED sign comes from outside. Remus blinks. Has…has that always been there?

“Not respecting the rules of wherever you choose to go makes little to no sense.”

“That’s gotta hold up in court though.” Roman glances at Janus. “You get me?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Janus says, drawing himself up like a lawyer, “I would like to sue on the grounds that my intestines were devoured horrifically by a terrifying, savage beast that the hotel owners neglected to inform me of. How am I standing here, you ask, if my intestines have been devoured? Simple. Spite.”

Roman’s off, cackling to his heart’s content. Logan bites back his own smile.

“And how, may I ask, is this not the fault of yourself?”

“May I say, Your Honor, that victim-blaming is not cute—“

“Here here,” comes Roman’s voice.

“—and also, the information about aforementioned monster came from someone who was not an employee of the hotel,” Janus finishes grandly, “therefore they can suck my—“

Logan hits his hand against the nightstand, still fighting down laughter. “Defendant is charged with contempt of court.”

“Do not pass go,” Roman chortles as Janus swoons dramatically, “do not collect 200 dollars.”

“Remus,” Janus cries out, “avenge me!”

Remus does not respond. He is too busy trying to figure out when the mansion became the hotel.

“Remus,” Janus cries again, crawling dramatically across the floor, “save me from this indignity.”

“No, thank you,” he mumbles instead.

Janus huffs, pushing himself off the floor. “Then by all means, please tell us your ingenious solution to this monster problem that we find ourselves in.”

Remus looks up, his face carefully blank except for a small smile. “I’m going to hide underneath the sheets,” he says in a soft, small voice, “because everybody knows monsters can’t get you when you’re under your sheets.”

“That is adorable,” Roman chuckles.

Janus’s eyebrows raise slowly until another fiendish smirk crawls across his face. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“Aww,” he coos, “hiding under the sheets to get away from the monsters, how adorable.”

Remus doesn’t respond.

“If only the others could see you now,” Janus crows, “they’d know how intimidating you really are.”

Logan takes his glasses off, polishing them with the handkerchief from his pocket. “As if you’re any better, crying over a torn seam in your cape.”

“That bastard took two weeks to get right!”

Remus ignores them once more, glancing at the clock. 9:45. An acceptable time to try and go to sleep. He moves slowly and quietly as he tries to get into the bed. The monster could be here. The banter continues behind him as he pulls the sheets tight around him.

He does not see Logan glance over. He does not see that Logan frowns and glances at the clock, thinking perhaps Remus is more tired than he appeared, but…still. He does not see Logan look back at the others still talking, they’re probably not going to go to sleep for a long while.

He does not see Logan look over at him as Janus leaves the room, claiming he’s going to go find somewhere more fun to sleep. He does not see Logan frown, looking to see Remus still on his side, huddled under the sheets. He does not see when Logan starts to count.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He does not see Logan beckon Roman closer.

He does not see Roman frown as he comes closer, sighing at the notebook in Logan’s hands.

“Logan, why the hell can’t you take a break for…” he trails off when he sees Logan’s face. “What?”

“Perhaps I like to keep myself occupied,” Logan says smoothly, even as he nods insistently to the notebook, “even in times where the circumstances might be less than ideal.”

Roman raises an eyebrow. Subtle, Logan.

“You are chronically incapable of taking a break, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you know any words other than ‘perhaps?’”

“Perhaps.”

Roman hides a smirk as squints at the text.

I think Remus is actually afraid. Don’t tease. - L

Remus does hear Roman exhale sharply. He does not see him glance up at the bed before he looks back at Logan and nods.

“Well,” he sighs, stretching and yawning exaggeratedly, “on that note, it’s probably a good idea to try and sleep.”

Logan snorts. “And here I thought you were supposed to be an actor.”

He swats at him halfheartedly as he starts getting ready to go to sleep. What that means is just a matter of snapping his fingers to change out of the prince costume. He packs his other clothes away and crosses the room, keeping his footsteps loud but not too loud.

Now that he’s paying attention, he can see how scared poor Remus is. He’s frozen under the sheets, barely moving. As Logan starts talking quietly to himself, he sets his bag down next to Remus’s and sighs, moving around to make a bit more noise.

Remus still doesn’t move.

When he’s made all the noise he can reasonably make, he walks a little closer to the bed and reaches to fix the curtains, unable to stop the soft noise when his shadow falls over the bed.

“Hey, Re,” he whispers, leaning down and brushing the sheet a little further from his face, “it’s just me, it’s just Roman. Can you open your eyes for me?”

It takes him a moment but his eyes do open. He smiles down at him and cups his face for a moment.

“Hey, there, Re,” he murmurs, “can I come join you?”

He barely nods.

“Thank you.” He frowns when he doesn’t move over. “You gonna let me in?”

He can tell by the way his eyes glass over that’s not a good idea unless he can convince him otherwise.

“Come on,” he whispers again, “scoot to the other side for me.” He nudges his shoulder gently. “Logan misses you.”

Loren doesn’t let his mumuring falter but he does reach across the small space between their beds to lightly pat the side closest to him.

Remus moves, as skittish as the new dragon pups, clutching the blanket tightly to his chest, his pillow gripped in his other hand. Roman swiftly takes the warm spot he’s vacated, wincing in sympathy as he shivers on the cold sheets.

“Thank you,” he sighs, making a show of getting comfortable before reaching out for him, smacking his lips together in sleep, “now come here.”

At his quickly stifled questioning noise, he drops the act and opens his arm wide.

“It’s okay, Re,” he whispers, far too quiet for Logan to hear, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

He stares at him a moment longer before he realizes that shit, he’s not going to be able to move on his own right now.

“Can I come get you, Re?” Roman smiles when he gives him another one of those jerky nods. “Thank you, I’m gonna pull you over to me, okay?”

He takes him into his arms slowly and carefully, wrapping him up in the sheets until just the very tops of their heads poke out. He relaxes just enough so that he can maneuver him to where he likes, but he’s far from the sleepy pile he expected.

“Hey,” he whispers, tucking his hair behind his ear, “you want to stay here with me, Re?”

He blinks sluggishly. Roman bites back a curse and leans down to rub his nose against his.

“Hey, hey, Re, you just focus on me, okay? Stay with me here—“ he tightens his grip— “right here…I’ve got you.”

He frowns when he makes a small little noise that sounds like it could be his name.

“Yeah, Re? You calling for me?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He kisses Remus’s forehead.

“Nonverbal,” he whispers, “or just scared? Or both?”

A moment passes.

“Both it is then.” Roman tucks his head under his chin. “Why don’t you go ahead and close your eyes, Re, I’m right here.”

They stay there, wrapped in the blankets, Remus warm and snug up against Roman’s chest. He plays with his hair, one of his legs slung over his to hold him close, working to lull him out of his frozen state. After a while, Logan stands from the other side of the room and pats Roman’s shoulder.

“Your turn, Roman.”

Roman rolls over. “Huh?”

Logan nods his head toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

Roman sighs dramatically and presses another kiss to Remus’s forehead, leaving his brother dazed, blinking up at Logan. Logan watches Roman leave before he turns his gaze downwards. Remus tries to pretend the shiver that goes through him at the way Logan softens his gaze is just the cold.

“Remus,” he calls softly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Remus, may I join you?”

A pause.

“Tap the bed twice if yes, once if no.”

A pause, then Remus hesitantly reaches out to make two little taps.

“Thank you.”

He slides smoothly into the bed, reaching out to carefully slip an arm under his and pull him off of the sweat-soaked sheets—when did that happen?—and into his arms. Remus moves pliantly, tucking his chin into the space left between his chin and the pillow.

“Hey,” he whispers, gentling his voice as he tucks his head closer to Remus’s, “hey.”

Logan is warm. Is Logan—Logan said it made sense to be quiet. Logan knows. Logan understands. Logan always understands.

“What’s the matter,” Logan calls gently, “can I help?”

Remus swallows. “Monster.”

“Are you afraid of the monster, Remus?”

Remus nods. “Black eyes. Shadow. Kill you and Roman and Janus and then go find Patton and Virgil and Thomas. Bad.”

“The monster isn’t real, Remus,” Logan says softly, running his hand through his hair, “it doesn’t exist.”

Remus shakes his head. “We’re in the hotel on the island. It’s real. Roman left and the monster will kill him.”

“Roman is just in the bathroom,” Logan corrects, moving his head to indicate the running water sound, “he’s alright. We’re not in a hotel, we’re in the mansion you two created.”

“But the LED sign is buzzing outside.”

“Would you like to look and see?”

“No!” Remus wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist. “We’re not supposed to look out the window, the old man said not to.”

“The old man isn’t here,” Logan says patiently, “I’m here. I have you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“He said—he—he’s not real?”

“No, Remus, he’s not real.” Logan gives him a gentle squeeze. “This is real. This is real, Remus, I’ve got you.”

“You’re real.”

“I am.”

“You said it’s safe to look out the window?”

“It is.” Logan squeezes again. “Would you like me to show you?”

Remus nods. Logan leans up and pulls back the curtain, peeking outside. There’s no bright red light from the hotel LED sign. Just soft moonlight.

“There’s no sign, Remus,” he murmurs, “you’re not in a hotel.”

Oh.

“The scar,” he blurts, his hand flying to his chest, “from the stab, what if it’s already got us?”

“I don’t have a scar,” Logan says, lying back down and taking Remus’s hand, “here…feel.”

Logan presses his palm to his bare chest, pulling his shirt out of the way so Remus can see. There’s no scar.

“You don’t have one either…may I?”

When he presses his palms against Remus’s chest, there’s no scar.

“We’re…not there?”

“No, Remus, we’re not there,” Logan says gently, “we’re here, in the mansion, safe, there’s no monster.”

The water stops. A moment later and Roman emerges, tossing a towel over his shoulder. He sees the two of them in the bed and pouts.

“You stole my spot!”

“I had Remus to comfort,” Logan says smoothly, waving him over, “though you are welcome to help.”

Roman ruffles Remus’s hair. Remus leans into it.

“Ro, are you real?”

“Yes, of course, I’m real, Re, what…” Roman trails off and his eyes go wide. “Oh, Re, did we—did I push you into hallucination territory? I’m so sorry, yes, we’re real, we’re here, we’re in our mansion, we’re safe, Re.”

“Safe?”

“Yeah, Re,” Roman murmurs, getting in to cuddle his brother properly, “we’re safe.”

“Real?”

“This is real.”

Remus buries his nose in his brother’s real neck and holds him close. Logan stays by his side, stroking his hair and murmuring that Remus is here, they’re real, they’re safe.

After a moment, Remus takes a deep breath and pulls apart.

“You know the rules, Ro-Bro.”

Roman grimaces, his head dropping to rest against Remus’s sternum for a moment before he nods. Logan looks back and forth between the two of them.

“What are the rules?”

“When Remus gets pushed into hallucination territory,” Roman says softly, “he sleeps alone.”

Logan frowns. “But surely it would help to have us reassure you and help ground you?”

“Wouldn’t help for the intrusive thoughts and hallucinations to include you too.”

Logan winces. “I suppose not, but—“

“Lolo we’ve tried,” Remus mumbles, “we—this works. It sucks and I hate it and so does Ro but this is what works.”

“I trust you,” Logan says, squeezing Remus’s hand, “and I trust you to know what works for you.”

“We’re just overprotective.”

“I’ll say.”

Roman gives him one last hug before standing and pulling Logan to his feet. “You know we’ll come as soon as you call.”

Remus nods. “I know.”

The room feels empty when they leave.

The night passes.

During the witching hour, he startles awake.

The sheets are soaked in sweat directly under him. His eyes are wide. His breathing is too controlled.

The monster is not here but the shadows are.

Somewhere in this house, he knows, something is here. He can hear the voice in the movement of the curtains, hear the step in the way the floorboard settles. Hands never meet his tender flesh, a mouth never bites his fragile throat, but something is here.

Step. Step. Step.

The fear clouds his eyes as it drips into his ears. The light flickers. Something brushes a knuckle up and over his cheek. Something pauses outside his doorway.

Through the depths of the fear filling his ears, something knocks.

The chill rips its fingers out of his mouth and smears them over his throat. Something knocks again. There’s something outside. There’s something outside.

“Sweetie,” he calls as he opens the door, “Sweetie?”

Janus steps inside.

“You’re awake,” he says, shutting the door and sitting on the edge of the bed, “it’s quite late.”

“I know,” Remus says as he sits up, wary, “sorry.”

Janus hums, reaching out to idly brush his hair off his forehead. The chill curls and lingers around his fingers, the shadows diving to hide in the lea of him, greedily drinking the fear from Remus. Janus goes to pull his hand away only to notice the prickles on Remus’s skin.

“Are you cold, my dear?” He frowns and lightly dusts his forearm with his fingertips. “You look it.”

Remus shakes his head. Janus raises an eyebrow, pressing his thumb hard against his arm to reveal a white imprint. It takes long seconds for the chill to let blood color the flesh again.

“Let’s not lie,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back up to catch Remus’s, “shall we, sweetie?”

Janus reaches up to trace the air around the curve of his cheek, one finger lightly tracing his jaw. The electrifying tingle clenches his hands in the sheet. He tilts his head and hums softly.

“What’s keeping you awake, sweetie?”

The chill snarls, refusing to let go of his throat.

“You can speak,” he encourages, lightly knuckling the underside of his chin, “it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head a little.

“None of that, now, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He closes his hand around his. “To be afraid is nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie, you know that.”

The shadows move slowly, wary of him, eager to taste his fear. The chill huddles around it, icing it in place, refusing to let him breathe without reaching its fingers into the pit of his throat.

“Oh, my dear,” Janus murmurs, running his fingers along the side of Remus’s neck, “can I do anything for you?”

He shakes his head quickly. Too quickly.

“Sweetie…”

“You’ll be annoyed.”

“I’m concerned,” Janus corrects gently, “that’s all.”

Remus risks a glance at the shadows.

“And you know, Remus,” he continues, lifting his hand to press a chaste kiss to its back, “taking care of you is never annoying.”

A different type of fear tingles along his fingers as they brush the curve of his jaw. This one reaches deep, deep along his fingers, up his arm, down to the curve of his shoulder, wriggling in between the cold knots to pulse against him. The shadows bloom in the corners of the room, shying away from the light flickering over his face, his shirt, his hand.

Through the mouthful of fear, his tongue wets his lips. “You’ll find it stupid.”

“Never, sweetie.”

“The dark,” blurts shamefully from his mouth, “I’m afraid of the dark.”

“The dark, sweetie? Is this about…”

“I got pushed into hallucination territory earlier.”

Janus makes a noise of sympathy, murmuring an apology for teasing earlier.

“I can’t see anything but the shadows,” Remus whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, “and the noises, and how empty it is because I know it’s not empty.”

“And what helps this go away,” he asks, still cupping his hand, “what makes the shadows leave my sweetie alone?”

“S-stay? Please, with—with me?” Remus’s breath starts to catch again. “Don’t—don’t let them hurt me.”

“Oh, sweetie, of course,” Janus murmurs, “of course I’ll stay.”

The poor thing chokes out a sob. Janus reaches forward to lie him back down when his hand brushes the edge of the sheet. He frowns. Picking the sheet up between two fingers, he winces. He can feel his fingertips rubbing together, it’s barely warm enough.

Remus’s breath still hasn’t caught when he returns with a thick quilt, spreading it over him to banish the last of the chill.

“Hush now,” he soothes, smoothing the corners of the quilt, “hush, sweetie, it’s over, you did so well, shh…”

Janus climbs into bed, pulling the shaking Remus to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly, tightly around the poor thing as he cradles Remus protectively.

“Come here, my sweet,” he whispers, “come here, now, shh, shh, you’re alright now, sweetie, shh, shh…”

His cries soften, gentled into mewls against his chest as he warms him against his skin. The poor thing is still clenched tighter than a fist. He croons, taking his wrist in his hand and pulling him flush against him.

“It’s alright, sweetie, you did so well, it’s gone now, you did it, there you are, here you are, right here, sweetie.”

The poor thing whines.

“Oh, sweet one, shh, shh, shh, my dear, you’re alright…” He makes a noise of sympathy when he doesn’t stop. “What’s the matter, sweetie, tell me, say it, come now…”

He brings his hand up to stroke gently under Remus’s chin.

“Say it, sweetie, tell me what’s troubling you so, let me help, I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“The shadows,” he whimpers, “the shadows, I can—I can hear them, they—they’re everywhere—I—they’re looking at me, they’re touching me, I can—I can feel them—I—“

“I’ve got you, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Remus’s cheek, “I’m right here, nothing can touch you, here—“

He pulls the blankets up and over their heads, creating a little bubble of intimacy in the dark room.

“I’m here, sweetie, it’s just me, I won’t hurt you, you know I won’t. Shh, shh, hush now, sweetie, it’s alright.”

They stay like that for a little longer, Remus sobbing out the rest of the fear as Janus hushes him softly, pulls him close, soothes away the last of the tremors with gentle hands and tender words.

After a while, Remus pulls away.

“…thanks, Jan.”

“I promised,” Janus murmurs, “I promised that I’d do it when you need me to.”

“I know.” Remus sniffles. “I just…wish you didn’t have to.”

“Don’t ever feel bad about needing something,” Janus chides softly, chucking him lightly under the chin, “especially not when you really need it.”

“Already sent Lolo and Ro away for hallucinations, you—“

“They’re fine, sweetie, a little worried, but they came and told me what was happening.” Janus kisses his forehead again. “They’re not angry, they don’t begrudge you needing things, and they’ll be here for you. They always are.”

“I know.”

Exhaustion begins to seep into his eyes. He blinks sluggishly.

“This is real, right?”

Janus gives him a squeeze. “It’s real.”

“Can I sleep now?”

“Oh, of course, sweetie,” he murmurs, leaning back up to rest his head on the pillow next to Remus, “you go right ahead. I’ll be right here. I’ll keep the shadows away.”

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic remus #sympathetic deceit #hallucination

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thebadluckmagnet · 2 years

Text

Started writing this Miraculous fic in November of 2016, if one person comments I’ll revisit and rewrite it (cuz I think the concept is cool and I feel like even though I haven’t written since high school my way of writing is still at a higher level than 16 year old me who didn’t know what love was.

Anyway, here it is:

It felt a tug, small at first, like a child trying to get it's mother's attention. Then that tug turned into a pull, then a great force grabbed hold of it, pulling it from its hiding places. It's ripped from the walls and the ground, snatched from the cracks and crevices it resides in. It swarms to this… beacon of darkness, drawn like a moth to flame. No, something more primal, more ancient. It's pulled to the source like the sun being pulled across the sky, nothing in it's path keeping it from it's destination. Something is calling it. It responds to the call.

“Cataclysm!”

The swirling mass of blackness is pulled in, concentrated into a single spot. All of that bad luck, brought together and forced to occupy the same space, practically growling in protest. So much of it in one place could lead to disaster. One mistake, and you could potentially destroy reality itself. Just before it's plans.. well, not really plans. More like intentions. Intentions of a mindless beast, a force of nature, really. Just before it grabs hold of the fragile fabric of reality, it's plans are squashed, quite literally, between the fingers of a boy, a boy who wields their power to destroy. It cannot fight it, that primal urge to obey. But bad luck is chaotic. It causes discord, bringing down even the greatest of warriors. It's not something you can prepare for. And it does not like to be restrained.

Adrien Agreste was having a bad day.

Not that he wasn't used to it, as being a miraculous wielder tended to have side effects. “Bad Luck Magnet” was in the job description. But couldn't the universe give him a break every once in awhile?

It was as if every time something bad happened today, something worse would happen right after. Like they were stacking up on each other, or trying to one-up one another. It was days like these that made him wish for Ladybug to be by his side even more. Whenever she was around, he felt luckier. Maybe it was part of her powers. Or maybe it was her presence alone that reminded him that life wasn't so bad. She was like the embodiment of everything he loved about life. Freedom, love, helping people. The whole shabang. She was his good luck charm.

Now, where were we?

Oh yeah.

Adrien Agreste was having a bad day.

In truth, he should have expected the akuma attack to happen right as he stepped into the locker room for fencing practice. His phone buzzed with a new notification on the Ladyblog, alerting it's followers of new miraculous activity. He sighed, hastily opening his locker and unzipping his bag, revealing Plagg sitting atop his supplies.

“Akuma.” Adrien whispers.

At this, Plagg rolls his eyes. This was the third attack this week. You’d think the boy would be used to super villains interrupting his extracurricular activities.

Less than five minutes later, Chat Noir was running across the rooftops, baton in hand, checking the address the akuma was spotted at. He doesn't need them though. The cloud of smoke rising up from two streets away is a pretty good indication of where he should be headed.

He stood on the roof of the building next to the one he had spotted and surveyed the area. Nothing was on fire, as far as he could tell. There were firefighters down below taking care of that. He searches left and right, hoping to spot the akumatized victim from his rooftop vantage point. He spotted the akuma at the same time he spotted her.

It was like… everything has been in darkness before. Greyed out and unimportant, like a backdrop to a play. Everything was dark and cold.

And then she came into the picture.

She was like the rising sun, bringing warmth and light to everything. Suddenly, there was color again, and everything was brand new.

Was he exaggerating? Yeah, probably. Was it warranted? Also yeah.

They had the akuma cornered on the roof when it happened. It seemed normal, routine. Corner the akuma, find the object, lucky charm, break said object, purify the akuma, etc, etc.

But something was different this time. Everything seemed off balance. Like his world was slightly askew. Nothing felt right. It didn't feel wrong exactly, just not right.

He was thrown back onto the edge of the building, his head hanging over the side. He stood, shook his head, and jumped out of the way of the akumas next projectile.

“Geez, with aim like that, you should be in the major leagues!” he yelled out as he landed on all fours.

The akuma, a pitcher who hadn't made the cut for the school baseball team, screamed in rage.

Crud. He’d touched a nerve there. Sometimes even he wondered how he could be so annoying. He suspected Plagg had something to do with it.

He ran forward, providing a distraction for Ladybug to use her power. He heard her shout “Lucky Charm” behind him, but didn't look back to see what random object her power had given her.

The akuma brought back it's bat, ready to hit one out of the park, but Chat was too fast for him. He slid under the bat like a runner sliding into home plate, playing a deadly game of limbo. One thing was for sure; “Strikeout” hadn't been rejected by the team for his lack of batting skills.

Rising from his slide, Chat Noir back flipped into the air in one fluid motion, landing on the akumas head and launching from it. He landed right beside Ladybug, who now held a [and that’s where it ends lol, just cut off mid sentence]

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #miraculous fanfic #adrien agreste #writing #my writing

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shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

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To-do list

i have no idea when i posted last, it has been a while. sorry, but i have been a little sick and unmotivated but alas, i am back with the normal cressworth. i read a post by @ink-insomnia about thomas making a list with absurd things (kissing audrey rose, being a god amongst men) so i made a fic out of it. it is pure fluff, pure ecresswell being dramatic. enjoy!

Audrey Rose has always claimed I am less organised than her. Despite my plans that surprise her in everyday life, I am more scattered. I disagree of course, Audrey Rose may be meticulous in how she leads her life but I am just the same even if she doesn't realise it. My sporadic ideas are part of my charm. Nonetheless I have devised a plan to help convince my love of her mistake. I shall leave a list of plans on our shared desk, much like she does, in order to show how organised I can be if I tried but I tend to make plans that are open to changes whereas she does not. I also rarely write my plans down but my darling wife loves to sit us down to make plans so she feels comfortable in the knowledge she wont forget an important date.

I watch my ridiculous husband write something at our desk, a small smirk playing at his lips meaning only one thing: he is up to something that will only be bad. I roll my eyes and leave the door quickly before he spots me watching him. We had spent the weekend at Thomas's holiday home, taking a much needed break after one of the longest cases we’ve ever experienced. We were only going to take the weekend off but uncle had decided to take the entire week off so Thomas insisted we do the same. Perhaps that insistence has something to do with what he is writing now.

Sir Isaac walks out of one of the spare rooms, his room as Thomas claims, despite the beast sleeping in our room and pestering us in every room but that one. However, every time I mention that to him he waves me off saying our little baby needs his own space and it's not his fault he adores us so much he stays with us as much as possible. I smile at the memory of him telling me that he was lying in bed playing with the cat, using one of the many toys he has brought to keep the cat occupied. I had brought up some breakfast for us both, as well as coco for thomas. He gave me a wide smile and came to me as soon as the door opened, taking the tray from me and setting it down, wrapping me in a hug that made sir Isaac jealous enough to start climbing up my leg. He laughed at my scowl and thus began that conversation.

The cat walks alongside me as I set myself down in the kitchen, resuming the book I was reading earlier this morning. We sit in silence until Thomas enters the room, a smirk that only results in problems, one that he is trying to hide from me.

I debated just asking him what he's done but he would not tell me so easily. Instead I chose to ignore that smirk and ask: “how are you, love?’”

“Perfect darling, how are you, how is the book?” He sits beside me and starts stroking our cat who purrs loudly at the attention.

“I’m well, the book is interesting, mostly, though I am wondering whether I should find another for the night.” my own plan formulates as I begin to stand in order to go to our room and find a new book and peek at what he was writing. He holds my gaze with a knowing look. Of course he knows what I'm going to do, but the question is, will he let me?

To my surprise he does and I make my way upstairs. I place my book on the desk, moving around the papers and finding what could be what he wrote today. It is a list. I bite back a laugh as I begin to read.

To-do list

-Be a god amongst men (as always)

-Get Audrey Rose to call me a scoundrel

-Kiss Audrey Rose

No longer do I bite back my laugh. My husband took to heart my complaints about his jokes about lists. Well, almost. In his own fashion of course. I put it back and go to our bookshelf to find another book, contemplating whether or not to tell him I know his plan or make my own just for fun for him to deliberately find. I was fully aware he knew I would look for it, which leads me to believe he saw me standing in the doorway but refused to look at me. He was infuriating at times, but little did he know I would play his absurd games. ‘A god amongst men’ was completely foolish, and the fact he wrote about kissing me, as if it was some hard task or something that was to plan for. Sitting, I picked up the discarded pen and wrote my own to-do list.

To do list

-stop whatever my foolish husband has planned

-kiss said husband

-remind Thomas to act his age

I put the list inside the book and walked back downstairs, to the kitchen where there was a familiar sight of Thomas and sir Isaac playing on the kitchen counter. I smiled at the peaceful sight, a wave of gratitude washing over me. Every case, very close calls made me cherish these smaller moments more. Every ridiculous act of Thomas he got to do just to make me smile was something I felt could be snatched away from us so I stood for a second and let them play. I set my book down, opening it so the note was visible but folded so Thomas had to open it up.

“Found one?” He asks not to turn to face me because our cat demands attention and Thomas always complies.

“Yes. enjoying playing?”

“Of course,” this time he turned and winked and I nearly blurted out ‘scoundrel’ but I didn't want to make completing his list easy. Instead I sat and moved the sheet of paper and opened the book and began reading. Silence descended for a while until I felt Thomas's hands around my waist. Instinctively I leaned into him, savouring his warmth and love. He kissed my temple as sir Isaac jumped onto the table and nudged my book, forever in need of our attention. Thomas, as usual, obliges by scratching his head then he reaches for the discarded page.

“What is this love?”

“A list, but also a bookmark.”

“Another list?” He smirks at me and flips it open, reading the list and then I hear his laugh fill the room. I should have added to make Thomas laugh, although that is my goal everyday even if I never go out of my way to try and make him laugh. If his laugh was the only sound I could hear I would still be happy. “My love,” he sets the list down, a smile still graces his face as he squeezes my side, “i agree with only one of these, I’m sure you can guess which one.” he adds a wink.

I roll my eyes and mutter scoundrel. Of course he would focus on the kiss and not the fact I implied he is an immature child that is pranking his wife. Again.

“I have a list of my own, but I’m sure you already know that, and one thing on my list was to hear you call me a scoundrel as it is my favourite word to hear from you. Your filthy mind truly amazes me.”

I twist and face him, eyes narrowed. “My filthy mind? You are ridiculous Thomas. Why did you make that list?”

“I wanted to understand your obsession with them. I think I do now.”

I roll my eyes at him but all he does is press a kiss to my forehead. Both of his hands rest on my hips again and he gives me a soft smile. “My love, may I kiss you, and complete something off both our lists?” he asks, moving his head so it rests on mine. My absurd husband makes it hard to be mad at him, or even annoyed. Even though this began with him mocking my habit of making lists, even unintentionally mocking me, i have to admit this has been a fun game and knowing my husband he will keep doing this now as ways to distract us from cases or just to kiss me. Even though he can kiss me at any point now.

I lean into him, pressing my lips to his and I feel him smile into our kiss. His hands reach up and cups my cheek, his other tightens slightly on my waist. My own hands rest against his chest as he deepens the kiss. We stay like that, lost in each other until our cat nudges my back making me jump. I curse as Thomas laughs at me, sir Isaac finding his way onto my lap. I scratch the little pests' ears.

“I finished my list before you, I kissed you, you called me a scoundrel and I am always a god amongst men.” he winked at me, picking up sir Isaac and moving to sit across from me. I twist, looking at my own list. He out-does himself sometimes with his dramatic nature.

“Thomas, neither completed the list, I can never stop your immature games, and you cannot be a god amongst men. It's absurd you even put that.”

“I can, love, and this wasn’t immature, it was-”

“Foolish? Childish?”

“Okay fine, it was a tad childish, I never meant to mock your list making by the way, I just thought it would be fun and to prove I can make lists to you.”

“It wasn’t just a tad childish, but Thomas love, I know you can make them you just choose not to, and there are more things we can do than make lists for each other. We needn’t make lists just to kiss each other. We’re married, if you want to kiss me, kiss me.”

He smirks, the cresswell charm in full effect, “you are obsessed with kissing me.” he leans over the table and kisses me.

The rest of the week follows similar patterns, sir isaac always interrupting our kisses, Thomas being dramatic and a constant smile on both of our faces. We are both reluctant to leave, to start work again, but we pack our bags and return to our home, uncle already with a case ready for us to uncover.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

(Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list)

#cressworth #sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #thomas cresswell #Audrey Rose Wadsworth #audrey rose #cresswell #wadsworth #sir isaac mewton #kerri maniscalco

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

🖤💔Yandere!Demon Slayers As Demons💔🖤

Dear readers for the first time in two weeks I offer you something that isn't a random post or a rant. This is an AU that I’ve been working on for a while, and seeing how this turns out I might continue it in terms of one shots and a mini series. Please enjoy!!

👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺👺

Demon Tanjiro is much more complex than his human counterpart. His mood fluctuates too much, alternating between a loving docile young demon desperate for his lover's warm embrace, to a rabid beast who's willing to tear your stomach open with his claws and feast on your entrails while you're still breathing. He's just too unpredictable, what makes him praise you and litter your body with toothy kisses, might just get your arm dislocated the next day. There's just no telling, he just isn't Tanjiro anymore, he's some wild, savage, murderous monster wearing Tanjiro's face.

He's always watching...

His mere gaze isn't enough to turn you into a motionless rag doll. Slumped in the corner like a forgotten toy. No, but his silence is. The way his eyes are locked on you as if your some sort of little bunny that waltzed into his territory, the way his mouth is sewn shut by some invisible thread, the way his head is tilted to the side like he was trying to calculate your next move...it's all too tranquil, too clam, just like the eye of a hurricane.

Languidly Tanjiro begins to crouch down, his moves are rapid and glitchy as if he isn't in control of his own body. Somewhere you hear something cracking, it's a dreadful noise like hammers pounding at your skull. It's only when you lift your eyes to the Oni in front of you, do you realize the noise is coming from him. It's like he's deforming in some way, dying and regenerating all in a single breath...and yet he still looks so...so beautiful.

Even while he's stalking towards you on hands and knees, you can't deny how stunning he looks. Mouth molded into a small smile, long rust-colored locks pooling on the ground around him and his eyes... they're red one second and brown the next, changing ever so quickly just like his moods.

He's much more passive like this, you note as if you've made some sort of groundbreaking discovery. So docile and calm...almost like a storm before it strikes. No, Tanjiro is not a storm you remind your self. He's a lion stalking its prey, relishing in the taunting silence it radiates by its mere presence.

Tanjiro's eyes have lost all hope, all passion. They're nothing more than empty spheres resting in his sockets.

You vaguely remember -or at least you think you do- a time when every action coming from the rust haired boy was entangled in a blanket of passion, every move had a clear purpose, every word was laced with an unyielding fire that had been beaten into his spirit. But now....well you didn't know what he was now, what Mozen and his sadistic "creations" had turned him into. What had they stolen from him? Was it his soul, his hope, or maybe something far worst.

Your amazement only shatters when you notice just how close he's gotten. His icy cold breath tickling the side of your neck. You squirm, pressing your palms flat against his chest. Tangiro doesn't flinch, his head cocks back to the side, his broken stare, vaguely reminds you of a discarded doll. Maybe that's what he is, not a slayer or a demon, just some broken doll that keeps you locked up in his room so that he can get a sense of being needed.

A wave of empathy crashed over you. Wearily you dropped your arms to your side, in a flash Tangiro wraps his long gauntly arms around you, squashing your bones as he pulled you ever so closer to him, nuzzling his visage in the crock of your neck.

Tanjiro Kamado may have once been a remarkable demon slayer on his way to becoming the next water piller of the demon slayer corps...but now he was nothing more than a pitiful broken demon, seeking the feeling of humanity inside a breaking, mortified girl.

👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹

Zenitsu is a lot bolder, a lot pushier with his affection now that he's been turned into a demon. He wants you to love him the way he loves you, only this time he isn't afraid to break a leg or two, so you'll have no choice but to stay with him.

His child-like tendencies are still there, albeit demented, yet ever-present. The tantrums and endless crying are as frequent as ever...except now, well now he breaks a bone for every tear YOU make him spill and leaves a scar for every time YOU couldn't satisfy him. Just remember that none of this is poor Zenitsu's fault, oh no, how could it be his fault? He's given you everything you could ever dream of! Even though you're nothing more than a pathetic useless human, Zenitsu still took you as his beloved wife! You should be grateful to him, dedicate your every living second to him, play the role of the loving, caring wife! Not some ungrateful brat, who is always trying to run away!

And yet, you've become oddly accustomed to it. No longer do you mind the screams and beatings. They've grown to be a part of you, a sick and twisted thing that resides within you, infecting your every thought. Much like how Zenitsu's become a heartsick, defective shell of his former self.

"STOP IT"

something shattered against the wall, breaking into a million flying shards. The noise echoed through the light less room. Weary, your eyes flashed from the broken remains of what may have been an antique vase, to the crying monster in front of you. The tips of his long curved horns were turning a stark blood red, an indication that his blood was starting to boil. Although you didn't need the mood indicating head tusks to know just how upset the blond crybaby had gotten, they were still a nice little warning to remind you of just how far you could push him.

"Stop trying to escape!"

Had his voice amplified since your last "screaming contest"?

Did Muzen really think that Zenitsu's voice needed to get any louder, anymore irritating?

"I wasn't" you deadpanned, your arms crossed in front of your chest. "How can I, did you forget what you did to my leg this morning?" the bones inside your left leg had been deformed, causing your entire leg to point sideways. It was a detestable sight, yet it seemed to fill your rotting heart with a sense akin to a school girl's crush.

'Zenitsu-chan still loves me! See, see, he went out of his way to touch me!'

'No you idiot, he went out of his way to hurt you.'

Your mind had seemingly been slashed in half since your arrival at the former demon slayer's hideout. One tiny voice acted like a deranged lovesick little girl. Whist the other pertained some form of logic and common sense. This typically led to many interior arguments, all bordering on the exact same premise.

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

HE LOVES ME

HE'S HURTING ME

"Quit your whining!" the voice that escaped your lips, was flat and commanding, for a second it vaguely reminded you of Giyu Tomioka before the memory of your former lover shattered. Zenitsu's crying continued but his angry shouts slowly died down, his golden eyes shifted to stare directly at you. wearily you lifted your hands towards him, like an infant begging to be picked up.

"I'm hungry Zenitsu! Take me into the kitchen, after all, it's your fault I'm like this!"

Sure Zenitsu was much more powerful than you, sure he could snap your neck, ending your pitiful life at any moment. But his desperate need for approval -something else that had transcended from his human life to his current one- gave you the upper hand in this muddle of a relationship.

As a demon Inosuke is more...feral, for lack of a better word. He is all so keen on seeing just how far he can push his darlings limits, both mentally or physically.

He's always hovering around you, trailing his clawed fingers over patches of exposed skin. Smirking all so curly as you shiver and shrink back. His knife-like fangs seen to be permanently impaling your neck. Draining you of your life force. He's just so damn heartless!

🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️ 🗡️

Although he may be a ruthless monster, a creature of the night that fed on the innocent, there was no denying that Inosuke was resourceful, resourceful, and strong. He knew just where to hide you, so you would neither be found nor have a chance to escape. There was also the way he routinely cracked your fibula and tibia as a “preprecaution”.

Your arm wasn't meant to bend that way, neither was your leg when you thought about it. Yet despite the odd angle there had yet to be any cracking or popping to indicate the limp had been, once again, broken. The only real evidence to suggest that the limps were in fact being abused was the white scorching pain coursing through them. A feeling that you had almost grown entirely familiar with.

Inosuke's green eyes shifted lazily between your scrunched up face and the twisting limps. One of his "normal" arms was occupied mangling your left arm, the other two appendages that sprouted from his back were pulling your leg upwards at the knee joint. Inosuke's head leaned over his remaining arm, he looked bored, like your pain was so mundane that it couldn't even grant him a mere chuckle.

"I like it better when you scream" his voice was laced with a demanding malice, something bitter and rotting. "It's boring when you try to act all strong and mighty".

You weren't acting, acting required skills, and an audience who wanted to believe in the performer. No, your lack of response wasn't a show of strength or iron will, it was merely because your vocal cords had been shrieked raw, preventing them from making a single peep.

Your tear-filled eyes shot up to stare into his depraved orbs. Had there ever been a time when his eyes didn't strike fear into those who peered into them? You highly doubted it, heck the idea of Inosuke ever being anything less than terrifying was a laughable thought.

An eerie familiar noise filled the room, the cracking noise happened in three instances, like three swipes of a blade. First, it was your talus followed by your patella, and then to finish the spin chilling symphony was the crescendo of your breaking humerus for the hundredth time.

Tears began to flow rapidly from your eyes, staining your thin layer of clothes. You could feel Inosuke's presence shifting about, leaning ever so closer to nuzzle into the side of your neck. His teeth grazing the already punctured skin.

Inosuke use to be a demon slayer right? A passionate young man who wanted nothing more than to destroy the very same monsters that he himself became? What a laughable story, a fictional tale if ever you'd heard one!

This man was and would always be nothing more than a cruel demon!

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x you #yandere demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x you #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba tanjiro kamado #kimetsu no yaiba tanjiro kamado x reader #kimetsu no yaiba tanjiro kamado x you #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado x you #yandere tanjiro kamado #yandere tanjiro kamado x reader #yandere tanjiro kamado x you #demon slayer tanjiro kamado #demon slayer tanjiro kamado x reader #demon slayer tanjiro kamado x you #demon slayer zenitsu agatsuma #demon slayer zenitsu agatsuma x reader #demon slayer zenitsu agatsuma x you #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #zenitsu agatsuma x you #yandere zenitsu agatsuma #yandere zenitsu agatsuma x reader #yandere zenitsu agatsuma x you #demon slayer inosuke hashibira #demon slayer inosuke hashibira x reader

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theamberwriter · 4 years

Note

OKAY SO OMEGAVERSE- can I please have Todoroki, Bakugou and whatever other characters you wanna write for when their omegas nest gets destroyed by something (maybe a friend, a parent, whoever) and they’re really sad about it? I just need some protective alphas rn. (Thank youuu)

Pairings - Alpha!Todorki x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Bakugo x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Kirishima x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Yaoyorozu x Omega!Reader, Apha!Ashido x Omega! Reader

Word Count - 9722

A/N - Wow, this took waayyy longer than I thought it would to write. But it’s also kinda long, lol Anyway, I really hope you like it! I had lots of fun writing it! Also, I’m going to apologize now to Denki lovers for the last one!

~*~

SHOTO TODOROKI

Todoroki was a force to be reckoned with, especially where it came to his mate.

Nobody got to fuck with them.Much less his own father.

Endeavor had made it painfully obvious he didn't like his son's chosen mate.

Especially since they were a seat higher in hero ranking than Shoto.

He couldn't believe his own son had been outranked by an omega.

Shoto didn't mind, in fact, he was very proud of you.

He may not have known you in school, but your mother had embarrassingly boasted a laundry list of your accomplishments when you introduced him.

She also gave him a very detailed rundown of every single step of your hero training. Starting from a young age.

You could've died of embarrassment.

Shoto listened intently, taking in every single detail.

He firmly decided that you deserved your seat, maybe even a higher seat than that, and he made sure you felt proud of your ranking too.

Since your position pissed off Endeavor, Shoto always found a way to wedge it into conversation with him.

Anything to make the old crackpot flame.

It made family gatherings rather awkward and difficult.

Usually the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

As hard as Fuyumi tried to make things chill and normal, Natsuo and Shoto made sure Endeavor knew they liked you more than him.

So to say that your relationship with your future father-in-law was nonexistent was an overstatement.

Endeavor couldn’t stand being in the same room as you. Shoto refused to allow you to be in the room with him, especially alone.

The two of you were basically strangers connected through a mutual.

Honestly, it was stressful.

He was going to be at family gatherings, he would be at your wedding the following year, he'd be grandfather to any pups you raised - no matter what, he was always going to be there.

You couldn’t escape him. So you might as well make peace, right?

You had a bad feeling, but you couldn't keep walking on eggshells.

You made sure Shoto didn’t know what you were up to. And waited until you had a day off and Shoto was at work.

You already knew he’d disapprove of the olive branch you were trying to extend.

You and Shoto lived in a lovely house on the outside of the city where his agency was.

Shoto wanted it built as an early wedding present. You'd only been there for about six months.

It had large, beautiful gardens, a good amount of land, and a pond. It was your own personal wonderland.

Having this little spec of gloom in your personal paradise wasn't ideal. But you had to put a truce on this.

It was noon on the dot when a knock came to your door.

You were still not mentally prepared to handle this on your own.

You smiled as best you could and opened the door. “Enji.”

“[Name],” he said in disdain.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Thank you for coming. Come in, the tea just finished.”

He glared at you for a long moment but then walked into the grand foyer.

Enji glanced around blankly. You couldn’t tell if he liked the house, or if he hated it because it was yours.

“Shoto designed everything,” you noted. He nodded at that. “Uh, the dining room is this way.”

You led him through the library and down a hall.

You opened the door, allowing him in first. He entered without so much as a glance at you.

“Take a seat.” You gestured to the two chairs where your lunch and fresh tea was laid out.

Endeavor sat stiffly in one, and you in other.

“The cooks Shoto found make the best food I’ve tasted,” you noted awkwardly.

Shoto had hired some staff to help since you two were so busy.

“For you, I’m sure,” he grunted but picked up his utensils anyway. “Thanks.”

You two ate in tense silence for a minute. Your heart pounded in your chest, it nearly made you gag with nerves.

You should’ve waited for Shoto.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of tea.

“I’ll be frank, Enji…” you started. “I asked you here to extend an olive branch.”

“An olive branch. Really?” Enji seemed more annoyed than ever.

“When Shoto and I get married, we’ll be family. - I’m not saying you have to like me. Or that we have to talk to each other. All I’m saying is that I want to make a truce. So we can be...civil?”

He grunted. “Does Shoto know you’re doing this?”

You shook your head. “He’d probably disapprove. But I thought I’d try. So if it doesn’t work out, he’d still come around. You know how he can be. He’d be even more furious with you, and probably wouldn’t go any family functions for a while.”

“You seem to know my Shoto well enough,” Enji noted.

You shrugged, laughing uncomfortably. “We’ve been dating for five years, engaged for almost two. So I’m hoping I do.”

After another few moments of silence, he asked, “May I use your facilities?”

You nodded and gestured. “Through that door, make the left, follow it down the hall, and it’ll be on your right.”

You cursed under your breath when the door finally shut. It was a relief being out from under those eyes. Away from his alpha stench. It was burning your nose, and making your eyes water.

You didn’t think anything of it until fifteen minutes had passed.

Had he gotten lost? Definitely not, right?

You left the dining room, going down the hall to find the bathroom door open and the room empty.

You followed the hall down and around and finally back to the foyer.

That’s where you smelled it. The undeniable scent of smoke.

You followed it up the stairs and down one wide hall and then another.

Your heart felt like it snapped in half as you watched smoke pour from the door with a sign (lovingly made by Momo) that read Nest Sweet Nest.

You launched yourself into the doorway. Sure enough, Endeavor was slowly lighting item after item on fire.

“What the -” you started, walking into the room with a sleeve over your face.

“I will never make peace with you,” he snapped. “Extending a branch without so much as consulting Shoto. How degrading and insulting to your alpha. And being outranked by an omega of all people. It’s disgraceful. Shoto deserves that spot you occupy. As well as an omega stronger than you.”

You felt something in you snap. And then you were consumed by overwhelming energy.

Your quirk had activated, and you hadn’t done it consciously.

The energy surge lifted you up, engulfing you in the form of a bear that barely fit in the room. Luckily the energy could be phased through objects if you wanted.

The translucent white-blue bear roared and growled at Endeavor.

“Get. Out!” you snapped from where you controlled the bear from within.

Endeavor shot fire at you. But the bear stopped it from entering your energy form.

You took the bear’s massive paw and swatted at Enji, pinning him under it.

Your bear leaned down, shifting into the form of a lion. It snapped and snarled at his face.

Endeavor showed no fear. Though you could smell it through the lion’s nose.

You picked him up in the mouth of the lion. Putting just enough pressure to pin and threaten him. But not enough to crush.

The lion and you squeezed through the door, swept down the halls, and back to the front door.

Your butler stood, waiting with the entry open. “I’ve instructed the others to put the fire out.”

You nodded at him, then squeezed out to the front path. The lion grew even larger, dwarfing the house.

“Consider this war, Endeavor,” you snapped, voice echoing through the lion. “All branches have been burned. And I will be telling Shoto.”

The lion tossed him out into the middle of the front lawn.

You watched as he hit and rolled across the grass. When he stopped, he pushed himself up and glared at you. Then he lit up and readied himself.

As soon as he launched into the air, he was caught in a flow of ice.

Only one person could do that.

Walking up the drive was no other than Shoto, home early.

You’d semi-lost your mind to the beast. A struggle you’d been having since your quirk emerged. Only rage made you lose your mind now.

The lion roared at Shoto, stalking up to him. But he showed no fear. You couldn’t even smell it on him.

He placed a hand on the lion’s snout, staring at it as blankly as ever. The lion sank into a laying position.

Shoto climbed up on it and forced his way into the energy field. Like you’d showed him, just in case.

He was pulled to the center, where you were. Immediately, he took you in his arms, cradling you against his chest.

You struggled at first. But calmed down at his cinnamon scent.

He rubbed your back and kissed your hair, pumping out comfort pheromones.

You felt the energy draining and you wrapped your arms around him in turn. With a sigh, the two of you settled to the ground.

“Shoto,” you yawned, your quirk completely deactivated. “You’re home early.”

“Got a call about a fire,” he grunted. “I can see why now.”

Shoto released his father, who hadn’t bothered melting the ice on his own. The two just stared at each other, then Endeavor left without a word.

“What happened? What was this all about?” Shoto asked as he hauled you off the ground.

You were worn out. Rage energy was much harder to control. It was much more draining than how it was when you did hero work. At least you had control then.

You explained the situation to Shoto. He was not happy, to say the least.

“What were you thinking? You should’ve waited -” he started to scold.

You couldn’t help the tears that flowed. “That’s not even the worst part. - Come see.”

Tiredly, you pulled Shoto up to the charred room that once held your nest.

Fond tokens of love and memories were burnt to ash. The blankets and clothes and pillows you’d hoarded were all gone now. Nothing was left of what was except the charred Nest Sweet Nest sign on the door.

“He...he burned everything,” you wheezed, wiping furiously at the tears on your cheeks.

“That bastard,” Shoto cursed under his breath.

He held you closely, glaring into the blackened room. He wasn’t going to let his father get away with this. But, for now, you were his priority.

He got you changed into clean clothes, then took you down to the entertainment room.

Shoto put on your favourite movie, had tea brought down along with snacks, and cradled you in his arms until you zonked out.

He’d never seen you like that. He had to admit, it was terrifying.

Honestly, he never thought he’d have to use the emergency maneuver you’d taught him. You were so good with your control.

Of course, Endeavor would be the one to break it. Natsuo and Fuyumi were going to hear about this.

However, revenge was for another time.

Right now, his omega was the most important thing.

~*~

KATSUKI BAKUGO

God, you were just too cute and you didn't even fucking know it.

Katsuki smiled to himself as he cast one last look at you in your nest before going off to work.

He'd bought you a body pillow cover of himself as Ground Zero as a joke. But here you were, curled up with your face stuffed in it and a leg thrown over. Drooling like a kid.

He'd scented the entire thing for you. There was no getting rid of that smell for a while.

He never thought he'd find this with anyone. He was so caught up in work, romance was the last thing on his mind.

But one chance encounter changed everything. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

With that, he left for work. Unaware of what would soon transpire.

All of Katsuki’s friends loved you. In fact, there were times they preferred you over him.

But not all of your friends loved Katsuki.

The shallower ones of the bunch were jealous you’d nabbed a hero. But they were all concerned about your safety. Not just from villains, but from Katsuki himself.

They found him too brash, too rowdy, too aggressive. And they were worried that would turn on you.

Not that they’d ever tell you as much. But you could tell they weren’t fond of him.

They’d never seen the side of him you had. Or even the sides of him that his friends got to see.

He was usually busy when you hung out with your friends.

Even when he was home, he didn’t like to get in the way of your friend time. Which was becoming fewer and farther between. No matter how much you wanted him to hang out with you all.

They weren’t exactly begging for him to come along either.

Your friends had seen him in the media. Seen the way he acted in battle, the way he talked to the press and yelled at the paps. How he bullied even fellow heroes.

They didn’t trust him as far as they could throw him.

It was the weekend and you were having them over for the day while Katsuki was out on patrol.

You had everything ready by the time they arrived for lunch.

There wasn’t really much to do. Katsuki kept the house tidy, while you did laundry and dishes. You took turns giving the dog a bath, and that was that.

Your dog, an Amstaff named Pooki - a name she came with, much to Katsuki’s chagrin (he did try to change it, but she wouldn’t respond to anything else) - barked when a knock came at the door.

Behind it, stood your main little group of six. They all seemed on edge, except your best friend of the group - Haruto.

He grinned and hugged you immediately.

“I’m so glad you all could make it! - Did you all find it okay? I know we’re a little out of the way,” you said and moved so they could enter.

“Uh, yeah. We found it fine,” Akari, Haruto’s sister, said.

Haruto was already baby-talking the dog.

“Is he -” started Sota, a friend you’d made in middle school. Your other friend, Mei, nudged him.

You shook your head. “No - my boom boy won’t be back until this afternoon. He’s out patrolling.”

Misato, the most serious and mom like of the group, came and put a hand on your shoulder. “It’s good to see you haven’t lost your spunk.”

“What’re you -?” you started, then shook your head. “Nevermind. C’mon, I have a game loaded for us to play. I promise you’ll love it.”

You led them to the living room. It was a decent size with two chairs, a four-person couch, and a loveseat. Katsuki had a gaming station set up around the electric fireplace.

Your friend Yuto pushed his way to the front of the group. “No way is that -”

You nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. He wouldn’t shut up about it in the group chat.

“But that hasn’t even come out yet -”

“Katsuki got it for me,” you laughed. Tension in the room spiked. “It was a thank you from the company. He saved their building from being destroyed, you know. This game never would’ve been released, if it weren’t for him.”

“Remind me to thank fireball later,” Yuto noted half-heartedly. He perched in one of the chairs, grabbing a controller. The others followed.

You were squished in between Haruto and Akari. Pooki took up residency on your lap. You were going to have to put this dog on a diet.

“Help yourselves to the snacks. Made them fresh just before you got here,” you noted.

It didn’t take long for them to dive in.

The day was going nice for the first few hours. What you didn’t expect was another knock at the door.

Pooki shot off your lap, racing to it. You were surprised to find Katsuki’s friends.

“Mina, Eijiro, Hanta, Denki - what’re you guys doing here?” you asked, letting them in.

“Here to see you, of course.” Eijiro hugged you tightly. The others followed.

“Besides, Katsuki said he wanted to chill today, anyway! Just so happens that we all had early patrols,” Mina explained.

“Katsuki won’t be home until later -” you started, moving with them as they made their way to the living room.

“We like hanging out with you, ya know?” Denki said, rolling his eyes.

“Who’s this?” Haruto said, looking over the back of the couch as you all entered.

You glanced between the two groups. “Uh....well, this is awkward….Guys, these are Katsuki’s friends. Eijiro Kirishma, Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido, and Denki Kaminari. - Everyone, these are my friends. Haruto and Akari Ito, Yuto Watanabe, Misato Yamamoto, Mei Nakamura, and Sota Sato.”

Katsuki’s group said their hellos. But your friends all stared in tense silence until Misato spoke up. “Hello, it’s very nice to meet you all.”

Pooki nearly knocked Denki over jumping on him.

“Sorry, she’s gotten fat since you saw her last,” you laughed.

“Still cute as ever though, aren’t you girl?” Denki replied, baby-talking to her.

Eijiro’s eyes moved to the screen. “What’re you all playing?”

“Remember that gaming company that Katsuki saved the building?” you asked.

Denki’s eyes lit up. “Really?! That one!”

You grinned. “Mhm. Someone can take my spot. - I’ll go get chairs.”

“Don’t worry,” Eijiro chuckled, patting Pooki. “We can get them ourselves. That’s the manly thing to do.”

With that, the four of them left. You laughed under your breath, rolling your eyes after them.

“How long are they staying?” Sota asked snidely.

You shrugged. “Until Katsuki gets home, I suppose. Trust me, you’ll like them -”

“I doubt that,” Haruto said, slumping back into his seat.

You settled awkwardly back between Haruto and Akari, your legs crossed under you.

That’s when the others came back with chairs. Well, at least Hanta and Denki anyway.

“I’m just gonna sit on the floor,” Mina said with a shrug. She came and sat in front of you, leaning her back against the couch.

Eijiro sat on the floor across from you, leaning against the coffee table to pick at the snacks.

“Here, Denki,” you called, tossing him your controller. “I know you’ve been dying to play it. Just - don’t zap another controller, please? I thought Katsuki was going to kill you last time.”

“Awesome!” he cheered. “[Name], you’re the best!”

They started the game back up. It was Denki, Yuto, Mei, Sota, and Haruto playing.

“So,” Misato started, clearing her throat. “You all have been here before?”

“Oh yeah,” Eijrio laughed. Pooki begged him for a cracker. “We helped them move in. Pook here was just a pup then.”

“And you come even when - Bakugo - isn’t here?” Haruto asked grouchily.

“We come here all the time when they’re home alone,” Mina noted, scrolling through her phone. “We love hanging out with [Name].”

“Katsuki thinks I need protecting,” you chuckled. “So he sends in the heroes.”

“You do!” Hanta interjected.

You rolled your eyes. “From what?”

“From -”

“Pooki’s too cute to be handled alone, it’s dangerous!” Eijiro interrupted. He was wrestling with her now.

“You’re going to break something.”

Eijiro grinned. “Nah, besides -”

Pooki chomped down on his arm. A few of your friends gasped.

“Pooki!” Akari scolded. “Let him go -”

“It’s fine, she does this all the time. She thinks I’m a chew toy, see -” Eijiro hardened up his arm and moved to show the one in Pooki’s mouth. “She can’t hurt me.”

“Wait - you’re Red Riot. Aren’t you?”Akari realized.

Eijiro laughed. “You caught me! Guess my secret is out.”

“None of you are exactly hiding,” you stated, rolling your eyes. “Besides, I told you guys Katsuki was friends with heros.”

“All of you are?” Mei asked, glancing around.

“Chargebolt,” Denki announced, throwing a thumbs up and grinning.

“Pinky!” Mina laughed and held up a picture of her in costume.

“Cellophane,” Hanta said, beaming.

“Are any of you heros?” Eijrio asked.

You shook your head and smiled. “No. - We were put in the ‘Useless Quirk’ club.”

“I dunno, your quirk’s pretty cool. I’m surprised you didn’t work for the police,” Mina said.

You shrugged. “Wasn’t really into law enforcement. I’m happy running a shop.”

“[Name]’s right, though. None of us could ever make it as heros,” Haruto said. He seemed a little warmer to them now. “I can turn small objects into cubes, Akari can change her skin into whatever material she touches. Misato can make a flower sprout wherever she touches. But only one flower at a time. Yuto can change the color of his eyes, nails, hair, and teeth at will. While Mei can turn anything she touches red. And Sota, well -”

“Just say it,” Sota snapped. “I don’t have a quirk.”

It was tense and silent a moment. You wanted to hide. This was not going well.

Didn’t Katsuki tell them that your friends were coming over today?

Misato interrupted the quiet. “[Name], where are the facilities?”

“Uh - oh.” You were snapped out of your stupor. “That way and down the hall on the left.”

You couldn’t wait for Katsuki to come home.

Everybody rotated controllers. Each leaving on occasion to get water or use the bathroom.

Pooki followed everybody in and out of the room.

Everything seemed fine until Pooki started barking in the living room doorway.

You got up to see what was wrong, supposing it was just a delivery man you hadn’t heard ring the doorbell.

Instead, you followed her to the upstairs hallway. She stood with her nose pushed against the door to your nesting room.

“What’s wrong with you, silly girl?” you laughed. “If I show you there’s nothing wrong will you take a nap?”

You were not expecting the sight when you walked in. Torn blankets, charged clothes, broken pictures and knickknacks. Everything was ruined. Nothing in the room had gone untouched, except one pristine Ground Zero body pillow.

Pooki growled at your feet.

You stared. Your chest becoming a hollow cavity. So much had happened in this room. And all the fond memories held in the items were all ruined. You couldn’t stop the sob in your throat. Pooki rubbed against your leg.

You wiped at your tears. You didn’t even notice someone special had crept into the house.

“There’s my omega,” Katsuki’s voice said.

You flinched, eyeing him at the top of the stairs.

He halted in his pace when he saw your wet face. “What’s wrong? Who’s ass am I kicking?”

He came and wrapped you in his arms. You gestured to your room. As soon as he laid eyes on it, his scent became threatening, murderous.

“Yo man, you okay?” that was Eijiro, the only one brave enough to face Katsuki in this state. He was coming up the stairs.

Katsuki glared him down. “You and those idiots better not have done this.”

“Done wha -” Eijiro stopped short, staring in the room. “What happened? We’ve been downstairs all day.”

“You better not be lying -”

You stopped Katsuki. “It’s okay - alpha - I, I got this. Do you mind, Eijiro?”

Eijiro nodded. “Do what you got to.”

“Look me in the eyes.”

Eijiro did as he was instructed, and you activated your quirk. Your irises swirled with the whites of your eyes. Hypnotizing him.

“Tell me, Eijiro,” you started. “What was the purpose of your visit today? Was it to do this?”

“No,” he said robotically. “We came today because Katsuki invited us. He was worried your friends were up to something, so he sent us to watch over you. I had no part in what happened to your nest.”

You nodded and blinked, releasing him.

Eijiro blinked too, rubbing his temple. “I forgot how weird that felt. You haven’t done that since I told you Katsuki was going to ask you out. - But see. We were just here to watch out for you. Nothing more. We’re your friends [Name]. And it’s totally uncool to do this to a friend’s nest.”

Your heart sank. That meant only one thing then.

“I can go -” Katsuki started.

You shook your head. “They’re my….friends….I’ll do it.”

You took Katsuki’s hand and went to the living room. His sent still smelled like death walking.

“Everything okay?” Misato asked. “Hello, Bakugo.”

You nodded, then went to sit back between Akari and Haruto. Katsuki grunted, leaning on the doorframe with Eijiro beside him.

You waited a moment, then flinched and rubbed your eye.

“Ow - I think I have something in my eye. Can you look for me Haru?” you asked, and turned to him.

He twisted to face you. “Sure.”

You caught his eye and he realized what you were going to do. You activated your quirk before he could turn away.

“I really hate to do this. But - tell me, Haruto,” you sighed. “What was the purpose of your visit today? Was it you all who destroyed my nest?”

Mina gasped. “Wait, what?”

“Shit,” you heard Akari mutter under her breath.

Katsuki’s friends were tense, ready to tackle the first person to move and break your connection.

“We came today to see you. But also to wait for Katsuki to get home. We were going to destroy your nest, but frame him for it. That way you two would argue and break up. When his friends came, we decided to make it look like they did it. Then you’d break up with him because of his awful friends. I couldn’t bring myself to destroy anything, though. So I told Pooki to get you.”

“Wait, you ratted on us?!” Sota yelled.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, tears beginning to flood your vision.

“Because,” Haruto continued. “We wanted you back. We don’t see much of you. And Bakugo is too violent for you. He’s going to hurt you - like he does to the paparazzi and all those villains.”

You sobbed and hid your face in your hands, breaking the connection.

“We were just doing what was best for you -” Misato started.

“What would you know about what’s best for my omega?” Katsuki snapped, the thick scent of burnt caramel nearly suffocating. “Do you think hurting them like this was the best way to tell [Name] your concerns? Wouldn’t it have been better to sit them down, like normal people?! Also - you all are a bunch of fucking dunces if you think I’d ever hurt them!”

“Katsuki may have a temper, but you didn’t know him before he met [Name],” Eijiro said.

“But -” Haruto started.

“It’s true,” Denki countered. “He was totally different.”

“We didn’t even meet y’all before today, and we’re here a lot,” Mina noted. Katsuki uttered, too much under his breath. “So you obviously haven’t even made the effort to hang out with them both. And see for yourself how he is.”

“I think it’s time for you fuckers to leave,” Bakugo growled.

“We were only trying to help!” Mei shrieked.

“You were trying to solve a problem that didn’t exist!” you cried. “Just - leave. Please.”

“[Name]....” Haruto pleaded.

“Haru just - just go,” you sighed, watching as tears dripped onto the couch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and then got up.

Once they were gone, Katsuki changed into lounge clothes and sat next to you on the couch.

Mina and Eijiro moved from the floor to a regular seat. Hanta and Denki put the kitchen chairs back and went to occupy the empty spaces.

You curled up into his protective grasped, watching as they played the new game.

Your heart, though sad with your nest being ruined, felt full knowing that you’d always have Katsuki and his friends on your side.

~*~

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

Your mother hated the fact that you were an omega. She thought, with your parentage, you should have been an alpha.

Imagine her disgust and disappointment when you showed as an omega. The only in blood family to be.

Her rage grew when you met a hero named Red Riot once you joined an agency. An alpha with a musk like strawberry cream. He was just as sweet as he smelled.

Your mother had hoped you'd grow to be an alpha. Your scent changing, and your behavior.

Or even that you would take on alpha characteristics, even while biologically being an omega.

But you were still the same at twenty as you were at twelve when puberty hit and you emerged as an omega.

You may have been more adult in appearance and a little more patient. But you were just the same in many other aspects.

You'd taken to Red Riot right away. Although you tried not to be the clingy omega everyone else typed you as.

You didn't think he was into you. Even as he'd pat your head, and stand just close enough to rub a little scent on you.

He was Red Riot, after all. His face was all over the news, even as a first year in high school!

And you were...well, you.

Little did you know that he was just as taken.

But it wasn't just with your scent. You were gorgeous to him. And you were so kind with a smile that melted him. You'd made him so nervous the first time that he could only blurt out random facts. You found it endearing.

But none of this mattered to your family, especially your mother.

Some forgave your nature due to picking up a top hero. At least you were bonded to someone with status.

Your mother, however, had been furious when she met him. Hero or not, there was simply no way your family could be the type to be owned by someone.

It didn't matter how many times you explained that Eijiro didn't own you. She pitched fits, started arguments. Banned him from the house. She even started to lock you out!

Eijiro tried to apologize, and break it off with you. For your own good. But an explanation on the matter made him understand that nothing he did was going to help.

Not to mention, you were already so in love with him and he with you that he was quick to move you in with him.

His roommate, Ground Zero aka Katsuki Bakugo, didn't mind. As long as you "cleaned your shit up and didn't fucking bother him".

Getting your stuff was a different story.

You had to break into the house while everyone was away.

Luckily, the neighbors liked you and didn't call the cops.

Katsuki, Eijiro, and a few of your collective friends had you all moved out in a matter of hours.

The rest was history.

You knew your mother had been trying to find you for months. But you'd changed your number and gotten a new phone. Your hair was different now, and Eijiro bought you clothes you actually liked.

You were everything you wanted to be. Everything your mother hated.

But Eijiro loved you more every day. Watching you grow and become the person you were meant to be.

You were helping him grow too. And Katsuki, not like he'd ever admit it. But he did like you. And didn't mind having you as a roommate.

The trouble came a day in late autumn, both the alphas of the house were out. You were home alone, taking a week off for the impending nesting that was coming.

Katsuki was at work, and Eijiro had taken the day off to be with you. He'd run to get some groceries and supplies to keep in your nest.

With you smelling like heat, he was afraid you'd get harassed if you when on your own.

You'd been meticulously fiddling with your nest all day. Trying to get it just right, and make it big enough for two.

You'd thought nothing of it when there was a knock on the door. You'd ordered food for when the guys got back.

But, instead of a delivery person, there stood your mother. Her face unreadable.

You tried to slam the door in her face but she stuck her shoe in. She shoved the door back open, and invited herself in. Pushing you back into the apartment.

"I finally found you. You gave us all quite the scare there." Her voice dripped with the same venom you'd heard villains shout at you with. "What the hell are you wearing? And look what you did to your lovely hair!"

"Get. Out." you growled. "You are not welcome in my home."

"Home?" she laughed. "Smells like a brothel in here. You little whore. I can smell more than just your…hero...here. Look what that little red rat has turned you into -"

"That's his roommate! He already lived here when I moved in! It's not like that!"

She started to open all the doors. "Right. That's what you say now, at least. You are just a needy little omega. Just a bitch in heat. And, sooner or later, you're going to want any alpha you can knot you. Maybe even a few of them at the same time - This your nest?"

Your mother shoved open the door to room that homed your nest. The scent of Eijiro flooding out. He'd gone a little overboard with the scenting.

"It looks warm...cozy... it'd be a shame if someone ruined it all."

You stood in the doorway glaring her down. "Don't you fucking -"

"Then come back home," she snapped, narrowing her eyes at you. "Drop that sickeningly sweet alpha. And move. Back. Home. We can teach you how to be an alpha. How to let people not push you around. Look - you let me walk straight into your apartment. And you haven't laid a finger on me!"

"That's because I know you. I use my quirk and you go to the press about your abusive hero child. You'll blacken my name."

"Would I ever -"

"Yes! You would! I remember when you didn't like uncle's second wife! You smudged her name, destroyed her reputation so much she went into hiding! - I'm not going to let you do that to me."

"So you're moving back, good. Pac -"

You took a step towards her. "I'm not moving back either!"

"Fine!" your mother shouted. "Be the pathetic, useless omega you are!"

Your mother had an air quirk, she could make tornados. She kicked one up in the small room, sending objects flying. You ducked as a poster Eijiro bought you flew towards you in its metal frame.

It landed and broke somewhere in the living room.

You dove, hiding behind the couch. More things came flying. You heard clanking and shattering. You covered your ears and pinched your eyes closed tightly, a sob welling up in your chest.

You didn't hear the front door open. You didn't see them come in. You didn't notice as it went quiet.

Then a hand was on your arm. You screamed, the waves sending the person flying across the room.

"Hey," the person coughed. "Hey, [Name], it's okay! I-I-It's me!"

You opened your eyes, spying Eijiro standing up from the kitchen floor.

"Eiji!" you yelled, launching yourself into his arms. That's when the big tears began to flow and the sobs started. "Sh-She - and I - omega - useless - nest -"

"Hey, easy, I'm here now," Eijiro cooed. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should've been here. It wasn't supposed to take that long. Wasn't very manly to leave you alone for so long. But I got mobbed by fans at the store. Katsuki came home early and called me, he's dealing with her...I've got you."

Eijiro rubbed on you, scenting you with the comfort pheromones pumping out of him.

"You fucking bitch!" Katsuki roared. "I'll fucking kill you. - Doesn't matter if they aren't my mate. - You trashed my fucking house!"

You chuckled into Eijiro's chest. The pheromones finally starting to work.

"Get moving!" Katsuki yelled. You watched as he shoved her out the room towards the front door. He had your mother in power dampening cuffs. "I'll take her to the police. You're going away for vandalism and destruction of property. You crazy bitch!"

"This is your fault [Name]! I'll ruin you all. You'll never be 'heroes' again -" your mother shrieked.

Katsuki shoved her. "Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before. - Move!"

When they were out the door Eijiro chuckled, "And I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids."

You chuckled, relaxing into Eijiro's embrace. But the damp, sad scent coming from you was undeniable.

"We'll fix it -"

You pulled away. "But she ruined everything. Come look."

You took his hand, guiding him to your nesting room. The tears came again as you looked around.

The pillows had stuffing bursting from them. The blankets were nothing more than shredded fabric and batting. Trinkets he bought you were broken and embedded in the walls. Picture frames were cracked, the glass shattered. Clothes were just tatters now.

You weren't getting that security deposit back.

"Everything is gone," you wheezed.

Eijiro wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin. He held you tightly.

"I should've been here to stop this, I'm so sorry. - We'll fix it, I promise. We'll make it better."

~*~

MOMO YAOYOROZU

Momo was the kind of alpha every omega wanted. She was kind, patient, and overly nurturing.

Momo went a little crazy when it came to your nesting. She had an entire fucking treehouse built, and had dozens of the lushest blankets and pillows imported.

She was a spoiler.

Your happiness and comfort was her number one priority. Even if you begged her to stop spending so much on you.

But Creati's love knew no bounds. Neither did her spending habits.

So it pained her when, after a lovely day together, she had to sit you down in your nest and break a bit of bad news.

"[Name] you know I love you, right?" Momo asked. You were curled up under her chin. Nose against the rose-scented gland in her neck.

You hummed, squeezing her tightly. She gently pushed you away. "Mocchan, what's wrong?"

She smoothed a hand through your hair. "I'm having some old classmates over for some really important hero business tomorrow."

"Oh," you muttered. "You don't want me around."

"It's not that I don't want you around!" she panicked. "It's just really important and top secret, and you...can't know what's going on. Not yet. And unless it's super important, we can't have any interruptions."

You nodded, a little sad. But you understood. It was crucial hero stuff. "Okay, Momo, I won't bother you guys. I'll stay in my nesting tree."

She smiled, wrapping you back up again. Momo was going to make sure she gave you extra love tonight. To make up for the following day.

The next morning, it was starting to get cloudy when Bakugo, Kirishima, and Todoroki showed up at Momo's door.

You two had just finished brunch, so you went to hide in your nest. You had everything you needed to keep occupied in there.

Momo took the group to the dining room and shut all the doors. Then drew the curtains. If they were so sure their agencies were bugged, she didn't understand why they were having this meeting at her house.

Then again, it didn't really matter. Todoroki was a close friend, but it was more than that. The four of them went through hell together in high school. They'd go through hell together now.

They locked down, ready to plan for whatever was coming.

Momo made sure she sent food out to you. Cause she knew you'd forget to eat. While she had the house make tea and snacks for her and the guys.

They sat for hours, mauling over all the information they had.

The sky outside got darker and darker.

Before you knew it, it was thundering and lightening. The rain was sheeting down. The winds howled frighteningly outside.

It was dark out when you fell asleep. You didn't know what time.

Your tree rumbling and groaning woke you up sometime later though. Trinkets vibrated off the walls, crashing to the ground.

You panicked, wanting it to stop. You didn’t know what was happening.

Then there was a huge CA-RACK and you along with everything in the room flew towards one wall.

Before you knew it, you were covered by pieces of wood, glass shards, and ripped pillows. You could see the grass under you.

You groaned crawling out from the debris into the rain. Something sharp caught your calf and cut you all the way down. You hissed.

You stumbled into the open. The treehouse was in shambles. The tree split in half. And your darling nest and building were scattered all over the yard.

Nothing was salvageable. You would've cried if you weren't pumped full of adrenaline.

"Does this qualify as important?" you wondered aloud. But the stinging in your leg gave you the answer. You didn't want to look down at the cut. Too afraid of what you'd find.

You trailed blood, rain, and mud through the marble halls as you found the dining room.

You could hear them inside, but couldn't understand what they were saying.

Your heart was pounding. You felt bad interrupting.

"Are you alright? - The mistress will want to know about this. I do believe that needs stitches," said the butler outside the door. His eyes were wide, staring at the gash on your leg.

You nodded, swallowing thickly. Then pushed open the door to pop your head in.

"Uh, Mocchan…" you muttered weakly.

Todoroki turned to you. His mouth settled into a hard line. His forehead creased in worry.

You smiled at him weakly and waved.

Two pairs of eyes watched you from the other side of the table. You didn't really know them, but you knew who they were.

You waved at them too.

Her back was to you. "[Name], I told you -"

Momo stopped as she turned to you. Her eyes grew wide at the blood trickling down your face.

Momo pulled you into the room. You whimpered at the sick pain shooting through your leg. She moved the papers around and sat you on the table.

"Are you okay? - Well obviously not. - Why do you look like this, [Name]? What happened?! I thought you were in the treehouse -"

You were caught off guard by a sob in your throat. "It's all gone."

"Gone?! What do you mean it's gone?!" Momo began to make gauze, a towel, and wipes for your leg. You hissed as she sopped up some blood then wiped the cut down. But she kept fumbling as she tried to wrap it.

She couldn't take her eyes off the puddle of blood that had dripped on the floor.

"I - I don't know. The tree just...broke? And everything just…" You made an explosion noise. "It's all gone…"

The adrenaline pumping through Momo made her shakey. The gauze was just not wrapping.

"Dude, I think you should go to the hospital!" Kirishima said.

"Can I?" Todoroki asked.

He gestured to your leg, then glanced between the two of you. You both nodded. He put your foot on his stomach and began to wrap the cut up tightly.

Momo held your hand, not wanting to be away from you.

"Sorry I'm muddy," you muttered.

Todoroki shook his head. "It's fine, I wash. But you really should get to the er."

"But your meeting -"

"Screw the meeting," snapped the blonde behind you. "The three of us can stay here. Ponytail, get your omega to a doctor."

You pouted. "But Momo -"

Momo wrapped you immediately in her arms as Todoroki stepped away. She squeezed you tightly, her face pressing her face into your neck. "No, you're going. They're right. That looks bad. And we need to get your head looked. You could have a concussion."

"I'm sorry I got blood on the floor."

Momo laughed sadly. "Stop that. It's fine."

You wiped at the tears on her face as she pulled away. But it didn't help when you were wet from the rain.

Momo began wiping at your face too. She tried to absorb the blood trickling down your forehead.

"Let's get you a hospital."

Momo hauled you up on her back and piggybacked you out to the waiting car, although you offered to walk.

She was tense and silent for the whole ride. Gripping your hand as though you might slip away from her.

You arrived and were quickly put up in a room.

When the doctor came in he checked you over, confirming the need for stitches on your leg.

They simply cleaned up the cut on your forehead and used a bit of liquid stitch to keep it from bleeding again.

After your leg was stitched up, you were taken to be scanned and examined.

"You're lucky," the doctor said, looking over your results. "No internal bleeding or injuries. No broken bones. No concussion. Just some strained muscles. You can go home tonight. Make sure you keep your leg clean, the stitches can come out in four to six weeks. I’ll caution you against strenuous activity in the meantime, you don’t want to tear those. We’ll send you with some pain medication, you can take it as instructed."

You weren't surprised at the verdict of nothing being broken. That was your quirk after all - indestructible bones.

They were made of light but durable material with complex structures that made them very hard to break.

That didn't do much for your skin or organs though.

You and Momo thanked the doctor. The relief was visible on your alpha’s face.

She piggybacked you to the car again.

"You can sleep with my tonight, if you want to,” Momo said once you two were settled. She put an arm around you to tug you into a side hug. “I'm sorry you went through that alone. That must've been scary."

"We couldn't know that would happen," you whispered, hugging her back.

She kissed the top of your head. “We can rebuild, make everything better -”

“I’d rather have a room in the manor to make my nest. If that’s okay?”

You couldn’t see it, but Momo was crying again. “Of course. I want to keep you close.”

When you arrived back at the manor, you waited briefly on a couch outside of the dining room. Momo was catching up with what the guys had come up with.

They wished you well before leaving.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up.” Momo guided you to her bathroom and ran a bath in the large clawfoot tub.

You undressed and climbed in, then Momo did the same. You leaned back against her, her chin on your shoulder.

The warm water untensed all your knotted muscles.

Momo held you closely. “I promise, I’ll never leave you alone again.”

~*~

MINA ASHIDO

Mina loved Denki to death, he was one of her best friends. But he just did not treat his poor omega right.

Mina thought she could do it better.

She'd wanted to court you long before Denki did. She was just too nervous.

What if you didn't want a female alpha?

Honestly, she seared with jealousy when you came into work freshly scented like him.

You were happy. So that made her happy.

But your rose colored glasses didn't last long. Mina saw through your facade immediately.

You didn't smile as brightly whenever Chargebolt came in.

You didn't happily call him "alpha" as you'd done before.

In fact, you nearly hid every time you saw him.

And it didn't take long before Mina saw why - Denki seemed to think omega was equal to pack mule who bends to every whim.

He made you carry his stuff, then would pat your head and baby talk you.

He was always having you get stuff. And brag about how good you were. But complain that you were whinier than he'd expected.

Mina hadn't heard you complain about his actions once!

She didn't think it was her place to tell you to break up with him. But all the hints she tried to slip Denki about how he was treating you went in one ear and out the other.

She wasn't the only one to see it either. But she was the only one who bothered to help.

It pained her to watch you. To see you struggling to keep a smile on.

"I don't think it works like that," you told her when Mina finally told you to cut it off. "I don't think omegas can break it off with alphas."

"You are a strong, independent omega, [Name]," Mina scolded. "You need to stand up for yourself. You can do whatever you want. You're still your own person."

Honestly, you hadn't really even wanted Denki as your alpha. But no one else had shown an interest in you. Especially not Mina. Not in your mind, anyway.

Mina had been the one you wanted to court you. But Denki came along first. And he was kind of pushy.

So you accepted. It didn't take you long to regret it.

Nothing about it felt right. You felt like a maid, not a mate. You were pretty sure that wasn't what an alpha was supposed to make you feel like.

Denki couldn't even relax you. He didn't seem like he wanted to help you with your issues at all.

In fact, he made it all worse.

Denki had even invited himself and his friends to your apartment. Only giving you a day's notice.

He wasn't going to help with food or cleaning. He laughed and said that you could figure it out.

You were at your wits end.

You were Starlight, one of the top heroes in your agency. Not a doormat.

Still, you scrambled to clean. Mina came over to help. You tried to get food and snacks together. You updated your gaming system. Pulled out any movies and board games you could find.

Your house was visitor friendly by the time the weekend rolled around.

You'd never actually met three people who came. But you knew of them. Each being heroes that were in class with Mina and Denki during high school.

You'd also run into them when you were out with Denki. But he didn't have the courtesy to introduce you.

They introduced themselves as Bakugo, Kirishima, and Sero.

"Are you sure you're cool with this?" Kirishima asked, lingering in the doorway. Denki was already being loud with the other two.

"Would you shut up? We just got here," Bakugo snapped.

You shrugged. "I guess I have to be. Right?"

Kirishima's face twisted up into something between disapproving and pitying.

He hesitated before going into the living room. You saw him speak briefly with Mina. Their eyes flicking to you every now and then.

"I didn't know you had all these, Denk," Sero noted, flipping through your game library.

Denki shrugged coolly. "Yeah, you know -"

"Don't let him fool you," Mina interrupted. "Those are [Name]'s. Denki doesn't even have the newest generation console."

"Yeah, Denki's is an old brick," you joked.

"Baabbbee," he whined.

The guys chuckled, and you caught Denki's face flush red.

"Whatever, it's not that impressive," he huffed and stalked off to the kitchen.

You watched quietly after.

"You guys can play whatever you want," you offered. "I don't get to very often. So don't worry about copying over any saves. - Denki did that on the one game I did play…"

You trailed off awkwardly, earning you weird looks.

"I'll get snacks."

Mina trailed after you when there was a crash.

Denki was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the plate of food he dropped.

"Uh, sorry. You mind cleaning that up? Thanks. Oh and don't forget to bring out some sodas for everyone. Love you!" Then he ran to join Sero and Bakugo in the living room.

"I'll help you," Mina said, and you pointed her to the broom closet.

"That was super unmanly," Kirishima noted, grabbing some paper towels. "Does he always do this?"

"Uh, n -" you stuttered.

"All. The. Time," Mina groaned quietly.

You sighed, taking a few paper towels. "Mina, don't -"

"But you don't deserve to be treated this way!" She aggressively swept across the kitchen.

"Mina's got a point, dude. He's my friend, but it's super uncool of him -"

"The hell happened here?" Bakugo grunted.

"Denki." You three said in unison.

Bakugo rolled his eyes. "You got anything to drink?"

"I was going to - I can -" you started, beginning to stand. You hissed as a piece of plate cut your palm.

"I can get it myself, just tell me where it's at. I'm a grownass adult."

Mina stood carefully. "I'll get you a band-aid. Bathroom cabinet, right?"

You nodded at her, then pointed to the fridge. "Whatever I have is in there. Sorry it's not much. I wasn't sure what you all liked and Denki refused to go to the store with me -"

"He's kind of a crappy alpha, isn't he?" Sero asked joining the party in your small kitchen. "Don't worry. He's watching a tutorial on how to play the game."

"You know, if you're not happy with him, you can dump his dumb ass," Bakugo noted. He tossed Sero a soda can. "Just because he's an alpha doesn't mean that he gets to decide everything."

Kirishima stood and dumped the paper towels of food you'd both collected in the trash can, before washing his hands. "Yeah, it's your relationship too."

He then grabbed the broom and began sweeping.

"He's our friend but he's being an idiot, we're on your side." Sero gave you a grin and a thumbs up.

"Uh, thanks, guys," you muttered.

"I finally found you a bandage," Mina announced. "Let me see your hand."

You stood and put your hand in hers, palm up. The touch put you at ease.

"It doesn't look too bad. Let's clean you up."

You let her lead you to the sink and wash your hand. Then she dried it and put antiseptic ointment on it before sticking the band-aid over it.

Your whole body filled with heat as she kissed the back of your hand. Then she grinned at you.

The guys could feel and smell the shift as soon as Mina started taking care of you.

It was unvocalized but unanimous - you needed to dump Denki for Mina.

Once the kitchen was clean again, everyone crowded the living room.

"Hey, babe, it's kind of chilly. You got any blankets?" Denki asked.

You shook your head. "No."

"But I'm coollldd," Denki groaned.

"I haven't washed blankets in a while."

He groaned, but conceded as you sat close to him.

After a bit, your body heat didn't seem to be effective enough for him.

Denki got up and disappeared. You didn't think anything of it.

No until he came out into the living room a few minutes later with a pile of pillows and blankets. Special ones.

Your heart stopped. "D-Denki...where did you get those?"

"These? Oh - the second bedroom. So much for not having any clean -"

You bolted to the spare room. You couldn't believe your eyes. You sank to the ground. He'd ruined the carefully crafted nest you'd been building for years.

"Hey, [Name], are you okay?" Mina asked softly behind you.

"My nest," you uttered. Tears welled up, threatening to spill.

Mina put a hand on your shoulder. Getting immediately what you meant.

"Hey, babe, can you -" Denki started.

You shot him a glare. He stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked incredulously.

"You ruined their nest, idiot!" Mina snapped. A glare beaming from her dark eyes. "What the fuck is your problem, Denki?! You have like...the most perfect omega, and this is how you treat them?!"

Your heart leapt, heat rushing into your face at the words.

"What're you talking about? [Name] is happy to -"

"No," you sobbed. "I'm not. I'm not your maid. I'm supposed to be your mate. But…"

"You treat [Name] like garbage!" Mina kneeled to wrap an arm around your shoulders.

"But you're my omega -" he started, a little desperation in his voice.

"No!" you yelled. "Not...not anymore. We're done. Just - get out!"

"But -"

"Out!" Your eyes flashed a deadly shade of blue-white.

You leaned into Mina. She sighed, and held you tightly. She was pumping out comfort pheromones.

You eased right away. Nothing like this had happened with Denki.

"Fine. C'mon guys, let go -" he started.

"Not them," you sniffled. "Just you. They can stay if they want."

Denki held a smug face until he realized no one was going with him. "Oh come on guys!"

"Sorry, dude," Sero said awkwardly.

Kirishima shrugged. "But you did kind of treat them like dirt."

"You're a dumbass," Bakugo snapped, not even looking up from the game. "You fried your brain one too many times."

Denki looked like he wanted to say something snarky.

"Denki, dude. You fucked up," Mina said over her shoulder. "Just...leave. You already ruined [Name]'s nest."

"Fine!" he pouted and slammed the front door as he left.

"Can I see your phone, please?" Mina asked softly. You handed it to her, just in time to have Denki call. He was too predictable. She rejected the call and blocked his number.

“I guess I can always rebuild it,” you muttered. “I need to wash everything. It reeks like him.”

Mina nodded. “I’ll help.”

You and Mina spent the day washing all the sheets and shirts and blankets that had been in your nest.

You were more content around her than you’d been in a while. You hadn’t realized that she didn’t mind you being glued to her side.

Even when she made sure to stay late into the night so you could finish your nest.

You didn’t even question letting her in, it felt like the most natural decision in the world.

~*~

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