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personasintro · 3 years

Note

bruhhhhh what about a drabble in which y/n is a little TOO drunk and jimin and tae cant handle her after they brought her back to her apartment so jk the mf king comes to beat her ass 🥊🥊🥊 ( and he is like able to shush her and shes intimidated by him ) 😏✨🤭

A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

word count: 1.9k+

a/n: I hope you’re enjoying these!! please let me know what you think about it and if I should write more of them x

You’re not the one to usually get fucked up.

With friends like Taehyung and Jimin, you’re usually the one looking after them and calling them a cab so they get home safely. They’re the wild ones that love to party, talk to other women and spend the night making out with them, if not inviting them to their apartments for a casual hook-up.

So, when the time comes and you tell yourself to “fuck it” because you’ve to loosen up and release all the tension from your new job and the responsibility that comes with it, you’re the one that needs to be taken care of.

However, even though you’ve planned to drink a little more tonight than you usually do, you haven’t planned to get fucked up at one of those nights where Taehyung insisted on going to a club. Again.

To be honest, you’re not sure what he likes about clubbing that much. You don’t like it but you go, because it’s always fun with your friends. But there are other factors that make you literally go “nooo” when someone proposes to go clubbing. Like all the people, sweaty people, that don’t know anything about personal space. Some of them probably carry perfumes, most of them being women because you could always smell the mix of different perfumes whenever you’d enter the restroom. It’s not a nice smell though. It makes you vomit and especially when you’ve had enough.

Not mentioning all the intrusive guys who are drunk and just looking for a vagina they could fuck.

It sounds as if you’re going clubbing often, but you’re not. If it weren’t for your friends, you’d barely go clubbing because you’re not the type to want that on your own. It’s not usually your idea to go, if ever. But everything seems fun with your friends and honestly, you feel comfortable enough to go with them.

Friends, who probably find you very difficult and annoying at the moment as they’re trying to make you sit on the small bench in your corridor.

“I hate clubbing,” you mutter drunkenly at them, laughing when Taehyung gets on his knees in front of you and tries to grab your ankles to take off your heels.

“We know, you tell us that every time you get wasted.” Taehyung mutters, ignoring the way your mouth falls open in disbelief.

“Taehyungie,” Jimin scolds him, getting on his knees as well to help Taehyung who seems to have trouble with taking off your heels.

Giggling through the entire time, you’re suddenly reminded of something when you look at the two men in front of you, seeing nothing but the top of their heads. “I got two men on their knees.”

Taehyung looks up, cocking his brow at you and finding you extremely annoying as you’re laughing to the point your shoulders shake. Jimin chuckles, nudging Taehyung with his shoulder as he breaks out a grin before they finally get your heels off.

“Kook, we’re taking her to the bedroom!” Jimin calls out to Jungkook who must be somewhere in your apartment. You can’t remember where he went.

“Oooh, sounds… exciting boys!” you joke, your voice resounding in your apartment.

Jungkook chuckles at that, currently in your kitchen preparing you a glass of water and pulling out painkillers from one of the cabinets. You’ll need it for sure. There’s a lot of commotion coming out of your room, something about taking off your make-up which makes Taehyung groan loudly. Jungkook doesn’t fight off the amused grin, only because now Taehyung finally understands how annoying he’s being when he’s drunk. Or at least he hopes he understands.

Jungkook pulls a coke out of your fridge and pours some for himself and for the guys, knowing they’ll have to wait until you fall asleep so they can go. Honestly, Jungkook wonders if one of them should spend the night just in case you get sick. Which you probably will because he hasn’t seen you this drunk in a while. You mentioned something about work when you first entered the club and had your first drink. However, Jungkook wonders if the problem lies somewhere else and that is Heaven. Or whatever his name is.

You’ve been dating for a while and it’s been only over two weeks since you mentioned the relationship isn’t what it used to be. He can smell a break-up in the air and he wonders if you got drunk because it either already happened or you know it will. Maybe he’s just overthinking this. Maybe you just wanted to have fun and get fucked up like Taehyung and Jimin do on a daily basis.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung suddenly yells, the door being opened before they’re loudly shut, Jimin’s soft but loud voice heard for a second.

Jungkook straightens up, ready to make a way over there but before he can move, Taehyung already storms into the kitchen. Face read and annoyed as he looks out of breath, as if he was fighting off a—

“Demon,” Taehyung breathes out, “Y/N is a freaking demon when she’s drunk.”

Jungkook laughs, “She’s just drunk, Tae.”

“Yeah, and she just slapped me for apparently pressing her eyes too harshly when I tried to take off her make-up because she can’t go to sleep without taking it off. God, that woman is a nightmare when she’s drunk!”

“It’s not like you’re a dream when you’re drunk,” Jungkook murmurs, earning a huge glare from Taehyung who keeps his mouth shut because deep down, he knows he’s just as bad.

“Go there! She’s your responsibility right now!” Taehyung exclaims loudly as Jungkook rolls his eyes and puts his body to a move as he brushes past Taehyung.

He barely gets to hold the doorknob before the door is being pushed open again and exhausted Jimin makes eye contact with him. “Great, you’re here!”

Jimin is out of the room and quickly joins Taehyung in the kitchen. Bastards…

Jungkook warily makes it into your room, looking around and barely noticing the flying pillow aimed at him. He catches it at the last minute, frowning at you as you’re standing at the corner of your room next to your closet, still wearing the dress that you wore to the club.

“What was that for?” Jungkook exclaims, watching you drunkenly and messily walk towards your bed before you take another pillow. Before Jungkook knows it, it’s thrown in his direction all over again and he catches it effortlessly and stomps his way over to you.

You’re screaming as if he’s about to kill you, trying to get away from him by jumping onto your bed and getting off the other side.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook asks, trying to get you from the other side but for a drunk person, you’re quick and make it out of your bed while standing in the middle of the room.

Jungkook stands there, watching you with narrow eyes for a moment. You do the same thing, stumbling a little. Jungkook uses the moment of surprise and he rushes over to you, not giving you any time to react and even when you try to, he gets a hold of you.

“What the fuck,” Jungkook groans when you trash in his arms, “Calm down, you need to get to bed. You’re going to hurt yourself, you damn woman.”

“No!” you whine, gasping when Jungkook lifts you up while his arms are wrapped around your waist, tossing you to the bed.

“Stop it,” he scolds you in a warning, pointing his finger at you which makes you slouch your shoulders in defeat. “What’s the matter?”

“I wanna go clubbing!” you pout, slapping your hands beside your sides like a bratty kid which makes Jungkook roll his eyes at your behavior.

He hears Jimin and Taehyung peeking out behind the door, watching the scene in front of them with curious and amused eyes. Jungkook glares at them but they just grin at them, silently telling him “See?”.

“You’re acting like a brat, Y/N,” Jungkook comments, sitting on the edge of your bed as you dramatically gasp. “And you’re drunk. You wanted to go home just a few minutes ago.”

“Yeah?” you ask, holding your head high as you’re fighting off the pout again. “Well, I wanna go back. I changed my mind.”

“You can’t just change your mind,” Jungkook shakes his head, “You’re already home.”

“You’re no fun,” you comment, tossing yourself on the back as you stare at the ceiling. “I don’t wanna be alone here.” you almost whisper, not really sure why you just admitted that all of a sudden.

Just a minute ago you were having fun and wanted nothing but be alone.

“We could stay here…” Jungkook reminds you softly. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Can you? I think I’m gonna throw up once I fall asleep.” you admit, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. You sound so innocent and child-like. If you weren’t wearing that tight dress, he would actually believe you’re a kid for a moment.

“How about you change your clothes and put some pajamas on? We’re gonna set the couch and stay the night.”

“You’re not gonna fit there!” you whine, “Can you stay here with me?”

It wouldn’t be the first time you guys share a bed, but ever since you started dating Haechan there weren’t many opportunities to do that, nor were you looking for those opportunities. You’re not sure how he’d like that and just out of respect, you and Jungkook mutually understood you should tone it down even though nothing ever happens. You’re friends.

“You sure?” he asks, raising his brow. You might be wasted but you can still think logically, which couldn’t be said five minutes ago.

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly, “Can you rub my back though?”

Jungkook laughs, Jimin and Taehyung join too who are still watching the two of you and how easily Jungkook has handled you. “Deal, but be in bed in your pajamas once I come back. Or no back rubbing.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Y/N!” Jungkook screeches, standing up as he looks at you in annoyance. You’re such a brat, you know he hates being called that and you’re still teasing and annoying him even in your current state.

Taehyung cackles and Jimin joins too, not being able to hold it any longer as Jungkook rushes them out of the door to give you the privacy. Once Jungkook makes it to your room to check on you, you’re patiently waiting for him and his back rubs patting the spot next to you. God, he thought you’d fall asleep.

But he joins you, rubbing your back just like he promised until you fall asleep so he can take a shower. Jimin and Taehyung are already sprawled on your couch, talking a bit before they fall asleep too. And when you wake up in the middle of the night, Jungkook holds the bucket for you until you fall asleep again, silently apologizing.

The next morning, Taehyung doesn’t forget to remind you what a pain in the ass you were which causes Jimin to scold him while Jungkook glares at his older friend. But you easily tell him to fuck off, reminding him all of the times he was the one being annoying and a pain in the ass.

Jungkook doesn’t fight off the grin he gives you. You can take care of yourself, maybe not entirely when you’re wasted but you can easily handle Kim Taehyung.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #jeon jungkook au #jungkook x y/n #ask: mutual help #personasintro

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Tranquility

A/n about time i wrote something for my privateer,, my love, Nikolai Lantsov

Summary: You and Nikolai are masters of being a couple without actually dating, and the only thing threatening that is the way Nikolai gets after having a nightmare.

Tranquility. So rare for a world on the cusp of war. I guess that’s what the difference between a world at war and a world only boarding on it, the occasional glimmers of goodness, peace. I shift cautiously, careful to not disturb Nikolai. He is tranquility, especially in the few moments in which he allows himself to rest. Not long ago, I found his trips to my bed in the middle of the night strange. But now I only think of the oddness of it when I can’t fall asleep and I find myself enjoying the peaceful lull of his even breaths more than I should. I think a lot of things we do are more indulgent than they should be.

Nikolai only comes to visit me when the bags under his eyes become noticeable and his humor falls flatter than normal. I tell myself he takes my comfort because he trusts me to some extent and I give it to him willingly when he seeks it. I’m not fully innocent. I take his peace, his touch and warm sentiments, when they are offered to me. But now I’m bordering on something else. Something much more devastating.

This isn’t something I can afford to think about, to weigh on. Not now when war is on its way and Nikolai already has so much to worry about. Perhaps I’ll mention this to Alina and she’ll manage to give me some type of perspective, but that isn’t something I should do now. When the world has ended or is made safe, then I will sort through the significance of the way my heart stalls or speeds up for him and him alone.

I should just try to fall asleep again. If I do, when I wake up again Nikolai will either already be gone because of his duties or he’ll make some kind of joke about how fortunate I am to wake up to such a sight before trying to coax me back to bed. I shouldn’t want that.

Ugh. He’s so pretty, I hate it. It’s unfair--one cannot expect someone to have someone like Nikolai dote on them, playfully or otherwise, and not catch some type of connection. Even in sleep, with his golden hair disheveled, parted lips, and fluttering eyelids he’s unfairly attractive. I sigh, the irony of the situation twisting my stomach--if he knew my thoughts his ego would bask in them.

As if he can feel my conflict, his defined eyebrows draw together, his placid expression turning harsh. I tense, watching as that look only hardens. Is he...okay? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had some kind of nightmare. Nikolai’s lips press together, and then he makes a noise. A sad, discomforted sigh.

The remnants of my drowsiness disappear at that. I place a hand on his shoulder thoughtlessly, shaking him once. “Nikolai.” I keep my voice low and soft. His expression stays hard, “Wake up, it’s not…” He lets out another broken sound. I shake him a little more determinedly. “It’s not real.”

Nikolai’s eyelids flutter once more, and he’s pushing himself upwards, sitting up and breathing harshly. My hand falls off his shoulder, but I think it’s better this way. He needs space to realize that he’s safe.

Taking two shallow breaths, Nikolai turns his head. I watch him carefully, resisting the instinctual urge to help him, to comfort him and chase away the darkness that wants to engulf him.

“Y/n?” His voice is so fragile a part of me doesn’t recognize it as his.

I nod my head once, folding my hands in my lap to avoid reaching for him. “You’re okay. It was just a dream.”

His gaze flits from my face to the ruffled blankets draped over me. He’s silent and still. Two things he should never be for a long period of time. Nikolai shifts slowly, as if still trapped in a daze. I let his hand take mine from my lap and pull it towards him. He squeezes my hand once, bringing my knuckles to his lips. I inhale sharply as he exhales, warm breath burning my skin. And then his lips brush against each knuckle. I let him, fighting not to let myself be reduced to a puddle.

Nikolai lifts my hand, coaxing my palm open before placing it on his cheek. I brush my thumb down his cheek. He lets out a breath, the sound is soft yet it leaves my heart raw.

I don’t say anything as he moves his hand down my arm, fingertips leaving my skin electrically charged as he always does. He pauses once his hand is on my shoulder. I let him grip me harder than I normally would. It feels like I am an anchor, weighing him in place so that the dark cannot take him away from me.

My lips part, but I have no words to offer him, not when I don’t know the extent of his torment. Nikolai’s hand brushes past the sleeve of my nightgown and across my collarbone. I swallow once, dropping my gaze to avoid the sharpness of the look he’s giving me.

“You’re heavy sometimes,” I keep my voice low, “I wish I could--”

“You do,” his voice leaves no room for argument. The tone is filled with a tension that he has never used on me. “You do everything.”

“And you are everything.” His expression softens at my words. It feels like a reward in a way.

Nikolai moves forward, the bed makes a noise as he rustles the sheet. I don’t bother asking what he’s doing. He’s always touchier than usual after a nightmare, breaking even more social rules than normal. I let him place his head in the crook of my neck while ignoring the warmth that pushes itself into my chest as he adjusts himself against me. I hesitate before placing my hand on his back even though I know he’d never reject me. He lets out a breath at the additional contact, adjusting himself so that he’s even more against me. I move my hand up and down his back.

The urge to ask him about what his dreams are about bubbles in my chest, but I ignore it. If he wanted to speak about it, he would.

“Things are easier with you.” His voice is so delicate it’s almost hard to bear. His hand presses into my side and my breathing stiffens as a result.“I’m glad you’re here.”

I meet his gaze as he tilts his head upwards. “Of course I am, how could I ever resist someone as wonderful as you?”

The corner of Nikolai’s lips tug upwards, a sign that he appreciates my attempt at humor. “You’re not wrong, darling.” I roll my eyes as he grins, ignoring the way my stomach tightens as he presses his face into my shoulder to hide his amusement. “You’re the wonderful one.”

I smile slightly, sarcastic retort dying in the back of my throat as something in Nikolai shifts. His eyes have taken on a simple, dark quality. I’ve seen this tension in him before, but I’ve never understood it. Nikolai tilts his head slightly, regarding me with more intensity than I know how to deal with. He shifts closer until I can feel his breath on the edge of my jaw. And then I feel his lips brush against skin. Testing, cautious. I don’t move. He must take this as a good sign because he then presses his lips further up my jaw. Again and again, always gentle, always fragile--always more welcomed than it should be.

I close my eyes, indulging in the feel of his touch, and then I feel him touch my cheek. The contact is feather light as my eyes flutter open. He’s close in a different way now, lips two centimeters away from mine.

This means nothing to him, this is nothing to him. It is just a way to push through pain he refuses to share with me. “Nikolai.” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out as a breathy sigh. “Nikolai…” A little stronger, he pauses, face a centimeter from my face.

“Y/n.” My name is soft grace on his lips.

My eyes shut. “You can’t--you can’t kiss me just because you need to be distracted.”

His eyebrows draw together and then he straightens. The distance between us leaves me colder than before. “Do you really think that?”

I press my lips together. “We should just go back to sleep--”

“Y/n,” he sighs once, “Is that what you think?”

I stare at the blankets, gripping the fabric. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” His voice is hard, losing all touches of irony. “It matters.” I stay silent, avoiding Nikolai’s gaze. “Out of all the reasons I want to kiss you, being distracted isn’t even on the list.”

My head snaps in his direction. What is he implying? “What?”

“Y/n,” his hand is on my arm, warm and tempting, “I want to kiss you because when you smile it feels like all the bad goes away. I want to kiss you because you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking and then that’s the only thing I can think about. I want to kiss you for the same reason I come to your room whenever I want to rest. You’re my tranquility.” My eyes soften at his words, my mind racing at the implications of them. “You’re biting your lip again, darling, and it’s torture.”

On instinct, my lips part slightly. He doesn’t move closer or farther away. I exhale slowly, trying to push away the electric current the potential of this moment is stirring. Nikolai’s hand moves up my arm and settles on my cheek.

His thumb brushes against my cheek, making me melt. “I want to kiss you because when I’m with you all of the bad, all of the uncertainty disappears.”

Nikolai leans forward slightly, breath warm near my skin. “Is that all?”

If his touch wasn’t so enticing I’d roll my eyes at such a blatant attempt to get a compliment. But his touch is all consuming, especially when he moves to run his thumb across my bottom lip. “No--you’re also ridiculously enticing, but something tells me you don’t need me to add to your ego.”

He grins, shifting impossibly closer before finally letting his lips meet mine. The contact is everything I’ve ever needed, his lips warm and inviting and eager. I kiss him back easily, melting into him like that’s where I’ve always belonged. Nikolai pulls away slowly, drawing out the kiss and letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

“For the record, you’re the only ego boost I need.” He smiles lazily, hand not leaving my cheek. “You’re my peace, y/n,” he exhales flatly, “Please remember that.”

There’s something strangely sleepy yet revered about his tone. “Of course I will,” I hum, letting him rest his head against my chest, “You’re my peace, too.”

“Sometimes when I dream I see you and then I lose you.” Nikolai’s tone leaves my heart sore as he adjusts against me.

“You’re not losing me,” I whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “Ever.” He exhales gently. “Get some sleep--you never get enough rest.”

He squeezes me once, pressing a quick kiss to my collar. “Whatever you want.”

I half roll my eyes, too tired to to call him out on his teasing, the lull of sleep strengthened only by the weight of him against my chest.

general tag list: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone show #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine #grisha #grishaverse x you #my works #six of crows imagine #grishaverse imagines

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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Hi there, congrats for the 1500 subs. How about the bros reaction to an MC who's an empath?

Brothers with an MC Who is an Empath

This should not have been as hard as it was but maaan, my brain just wasn’t working. Finally got it done though!

Intro:

An Empath is essentially someone who is highly sensitive to outside stimuli like sounds, personalities, energies, emotions, or just hectic/chaotic environments. They tend to absorb the emotions of others into themselves because of this. Though their sensitivity can grant deeper understanding for others, it comes at the price of the Empath’s own emotional and physical health if not given enough time to decompress which can lead to feeling drained, irritable, depressed, or overwhelmed.

Lucifer

Oh boy, if there was ever any demon not in tune to his own emotions…

He started out legitimately not knowing what an "empath" was and frankly he didn't care to know. His main concern was just keeping the MC alive.

Though that didn't seem to be too hard because they apparently get tired quickly… or at least they had to take extended periods away from most of his brothers.

He wasn't sure why, he first assumed it was because they found his brothers annoying but that didn't seem to be the case either...

He'd see them grinning with Mammon after a jackpot, relaxing with Satan in silence, and even crying with Levi over things so niche and pointless he couldn’t imagine that they actually cared...

It wasn’t too long until they set their sights on him.

They always seemed to know when he was stressed or when he needed to talk to someone. He'd even be embarrassed to admit there were days when he’d just hover somewhat close to them, face more or less slathered with "I really need to talk right now" but too proud to make the first move.

After some time, he decided to look up what an empath was again and it all clicked into place. They probably knew when he was tired because they could just sense it off of him.

And who knows how exhausting that must be for them...

After that little revelation he actually started paying more attention to his own health to keep it from spilling over to them, but he would still go to them to talk from time to time. He honestly never expected a human to become his closest confidant.

Mammon

Mammon has BIG energy. He’s one of those personalities that just brightens a room he walks in but damn… if he’s not a little exhausting to be around sometimes…

Truthfully, he was kind of into their whole “I know how you feel so you don’t have to say it” vibe though it was really confusing to start with...

On the one hand, they never made fun of him for his sensitive side. Not once. And they seemed pick up on the days where he wasn't feeling his best as well, which only made him happy and want spend more time with them.

But on the other hand, he'd be lying if he said that their need to recharge away from him didn't catch him off guard a lot... Hell, for the first few weeks of getting to know the MC he thought they didn't like him at all!

It took the MC sitting him down and explaining to him that they're more sensitive to things like lights, sounds, and emotions for him to kind of get the picture. It wasn’t that they didn’t like him, they just needed to be somewhere calm.

Cue a lot of “Okay human, I’ll be calm. Promise! Ya won’t even now I’m here!” in a well meaning, but pretty loud voice and not getting much better from there, bless his heart...

Even after he eventually gets the picture and stops hanging off of their leg, it does bum him out to be separated for however long it takes for them to get better (at worst, it can be days).

But he really gets excited like a puppy whenever they finally come back again! Big grins and lots of hugs (good luck peeling him off now).

Levi

Levi is... best taken in short bursts.

Though his personality isn’t big like Mammon’s, he does have a lot of lingering negativity around him. Not exactly his fault, being Envy and all, but not great for someone who’s sensitive to emotions.

In truth, Levi genuinely loves being around the MC because they “get” him even if they don’t get what’s happening.

While his brothers may roll their eyes or struggle to understand how he can put so much emotional investment into an anime or a character, the MC would always seem to feel and respect that his emotions were genuine and let him experience them without question.

… But at the same time, that sensitivity meant that they got carried in with him through his every emotion, good, bad, or somewhat erratic depending on the situation…

Add to that his higher than usual need for validation, investment, and feedback due to his insecurity and unfortunately he’s easily the most emotionally draining person in the House...

It took some time to explain to Levi what an empath was and that their desired space wasn’t because there was something wrong with him or anything, they just needed breaks. Thankfully, being an introvert himself meant that Levi understood this a lot quicker than Mammon.

In truth, being with Levi could be fun and rewarding for both parties. During his high points, his happiness truly does shine like no other, just… don’t overdo it.

Satan

In the beginning, Satan was honestly pretty impressed how quickly the exchange student saw through his fake smiles. They’d know that there was no actual joy behind them and thus avoided him for the most part.

This was before they formed their pact so he was perfectly fine with that. Let them hide, that’s the smart idea.

But after getting to know them and going through the body-switch, he started to see that it was deeper than just some good intuition on their part. Something about them… reflected the people around them...

They appeared to be acutely aware of the emotion in a given person or a given room and reacted like they were soaking in the atmosphere they found themselves in. Taking it into themselves…

It truly confused him.

Satan is the picture of emotional control, it’s been taught to him again and again to always keep a good handle on himself because things go flying when he doesn’t. The idea of being so open to others just didn’t make much sense to him…

Why would anyone want to live so dependent on the emotions of others? It sounded chaotic just to hear about it...

But after he opened up to them about his own inner doubts he started to think it wasn’t such a bad thing. They appeared to be equipped to help him navigate his own emotions, especially the new ones he didn’t have the best grasp on yet.

He later did his own research into human emotions, discovered empaths, and that put it all into perspective. Like Lucifer, he did his best not to overwhelm them after that but there was little worry about that anyway. Satan is, again, emotional control at its finest.

Asmodeus

Oh, Asmo picked up on their human’s little quirk relatively quickly compared to his brothers. Being emotionally observant is just part of what makes him so good at what he does.

Honestly, he enjoyed just watching them from afar… Watching the way their eyes lit up when talking to a cheerful Simeon or how huffy and frustrated they’d get along with Mammon when things weren’t going his way. It was cute to him, like a child playing “Pretend.”

Eventually, though, he started to notice that it went a lot deeper than mere imitation...

One day, Levi came home distraught about the tragic death of some voice actor he fancied and the MC was right along with him, crying as if that loss was theirs...

On another, Satan had spent the whole day silently fuming and the MC was a complete wreck, tense and on-edge for no other reason than the feeling of aggression in the air…

And crowds… crowded rooms seemed to be the death of them. So much noise and constant input, they’d have to leave so quickly…

Asmo saw all these things himself, without having to be told, and he became a refuge for them when things became too much. He has a big personality himself, but he could tone it down for a time and offer them a place away for a while.

If school, parties, or the brothers themselves just became too much, the MC could always go to Asmo’s room to vent like they let everybody else to with them. He’d keep the place quiet and calm and just help them sort things out...

Thank their father for Asmo’s observance.

Beelzebub

Legit the calmest, sweetest, nicest person to be around. Truly the best companion for an empathic MC to have.

Beel’s personality is positive, sweet, and (most importantly) stable. He’s not too bombastic nor too withdrawn, he’s not riddled with hidden stress or self-loathing, and he’s not even manipulative in any way, he’s just… Beel.

Am I saying that Beel is the MC’s emotional support demon? Yes. Yes I am.

Being around Beel is like hooking them up to a walking battery recharging station. Something about him just exudes warmth and comfort… They could be wrapped up in his arms for days and never say a word yet still be perfectly content...

Beel doesn't really mind them coming to him when distressed either because he likes being able to help them when they’re feeling drained. It makes him feel kind of special, they don’t seem to go to anyone else in quite the same way.

Usually, one of his brothers will be in a bad mood and the human will flock to Beel like a protective barrier. They'll hug him or trail along behind him like a lost puppy, which he thinks is very cute.

If they’re feeling really out of it, he’d carry them around on his back while they rest like he does for Belphie sometimes. Any time his brothers try to get too close to them or look like they’re going to bother them, he’ll just carry them away to some place quieter.

Though, the MC did pick up the deep sadness he felt for Lilith and Belphie (while he was gone) from time to time.... Which, considering how kind and comforting he usually is, just makes that dip in mood all the more painful and distressing for them. Poor baby…

Belphegor

Belphie is another calm personality to have around, kind of similar to Beel, but since he's more prone to sadness and irritability he doesn't make the best companion…

If Beel is comfort, then Belphie is repose. Relaxed and peaceful, but also languid and sluggish… When Beel isn't around, then he makes a decent second, but only on good days.

Belphie has a mixed opinion on their uncanny ability to pick up on his feelings… He tries his best to be “mysterious” so having someone who can read him like a book gets under his skin just a little…

But he also really likes how much it helps them get to know him and understand where he’s coming from (being the youngest, he isn’t as used to being heard by anybody other than Beel). So, he’s very conflicted…

It didn’t help at all when it came to light that the MC could legitimately tell that he felt very hostile and angry towards them while he was still in the attic. When he asked why they helped him anyway, they told him so that they could make Beel happy again, regardless of how he felt about them which... ouch...

As if he could feel any worse about that particular incident… They could feel how guilty he was about that… right?

Even if they can’t he makes sure that they know that he’s sorry and he won’t do it again. Probably the lil’shit.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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fireladybuckley · 3 years

Text

It Isn’t in my Blood

Fandom: 9-1-1 Prompt: Inspired by @kitkatpancakestack‘s “what if Buck finds the pamphlet“ post Pairing: Implied future Buddie - Evan Buckley (Buck) x Eddie Diaz Word Count: 2,330 Summary: SPOILERS - A 5x01 missing scene - Buck finds the pamphlet on anxiety and panic attacks given to him by the cardiologist at the hospital and encourages Eddie to tell him what happened. Eddie breaks down and admits that maybe not everything is okay.

Beta’d by @firemedicdiaz Thank you babe <3

Read it on Ao3

“I’ll just be a minute, you staying here?” Eddie asked, hopping out of the truck and looking over at Buck.

“Sure, sounds good,” Buck said, yawning. Eddie nodded and closed the door, hurrying up the sidewalk as Buck settled back in his seat. It had been such a long, chaotic shift and Buck was exhausted; Eddie just had to drop off a form at Christopher’s school and then they were going for breakfast. Buck figured he had time for a short nap and shut his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come.

After a while it became apparent that Eddie was going to be longer than he’d said, and Buck was getting restless. He grew bored quite easily of late, so he began poking around Eddie’s truck - changing the radio station, fiddling with the air freshener. Absently, Buck hit the button on the dashboard that opened the glove box in front of him and looked down into it, wondering if there were any travel brochures left in there from a previous road trip that he could look at. Instead, he pulled out a very different kind of pamphlet that looked like it had been shoved in carelessly and as he read the front, his eyebrows contracted with a small frown.

Understanding Anxiety and Panic Attacks - Recognize the Signs and Symptoms

Underneath the pamphlet were a couple of folded sheets of paper. Upon quick inspection, Buck saw that they were discharge papers from the hospital dated a few days earlier with Eddie’s name in the patient field.

Buck’s heart squeezed painfully as he stared at the slightly crumpled papers and then back at the pamphlet, realizing what it must all mean. Buck had been startled earlier in the shift when that doctor had called out to Eddie, but Eddie had been very resistant to talking about his trip to the hospital. Buck had dropped it for the time being as they had been chaotically busy the entire shift, but he had always intended to grill Eddie about it later. Now, he suddenly understood what must have happened. He knew from experience how scary panic attacks could be, how they could feel like a heart attack, especially if a person had never had one before.

He remembered how uncomfortable Eddie had looked when Buck had tried to confront him. Buck knew how much Eddie relied on everyone thinking he was this stoic, unmoving rock, because it allowed him to hide his feelings and keep everything bottled up. Buck was well aware that he himself and Bobby were the only two people that Eddie ever opened up to, and it made Buck’s heart hurt as he considered how shaken up Eddie must have been by the whole incident to be so resistant to telling him about it.

Buck sighed, wishing he had known, thinking about how he could try to help Eddie as he skimmed the pamphlet. He wanted to help, hating the idea that Eddie could be going through this alone. He distinctly remembered how Eddie had tried to drag Buck out of his horrible depression and anxiety after the fire truck had crushed his leg and he wanted to be there for Eddie in turn. Buck knew that Eddie had Ana, but if Buck was right about their relationship, he suspected that Eddie would be uncomfortable talking to her about his emotions. He’d always had the feeling that while Eddie clearly liked Ana and they got along well, their relationship wasn’t particularly deep and Buck knew that Eddie had to really trust someone before he would open up.

Lost in his thoughts, Buck was still looking at the pamphlet in one hand, the discharge papers held loosely in the other, when Eddie returned.

“Alright, that’s all done, let’s go t-- Buck, what the hell?”

Buck jumped as the driver’s door opened and Eddie swung himself inside, only to freeze when he saw what Buck was holding and reading through. Buck started to stammer as Eddie snatched the papers and pamphlet out of his hands and threw them back into the glove box, snapping it shut and staring straight ahead, his chest rising and falling quickly, his jaw set.

“Eddie, I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop, I just found that in the glove box and I couldn’t help looking at it…”

“It’s fine. It’s nothing.” Eddie’s voice was clipped, and Buck could tell he felt vulnerable and was not pleased about it.

“I mean, it’s not nothing,” Buck replied cautiously in a coaxing tone. He hadn’t been planning on talking to Eddie about this before breakfast, but then there was no time like the present. “Is this why you were in the hospital the other day?”

Eddie shot him an annoyed look, because it was obvious that Buck had seen the discharge papers so the question was redundant, but then he sighed and nodded.

“Yeah. I’m fine though.”

“Eddie… you’ve been through so much. There’s no shame in having a panic attack--” Buck began, but Eddie started the truck and cut through his words sharply.

“I don’t panic.”

Buck frowned as Eddie pulled away from the curb and began to drive without saying another word. Deciding to give him some space for a few so he could collect his thoughts, Buck stayed silent as they moved through the streets. To his surprise, Eddie pulled up in front of Buck’s apartment building and parked, still looking straight ahead.

“I… thought we were going for breakfast?” Buck asked slowly, not sure what to expect. Eddie seemed to steel himself, then glanced towards the building and shut off the truck.

“I know you’re not going to let this go, and I don’t want to do it in public. Let’s go up to your loft.”

Eddie’s voice was gruff, but Buck was grimly pleased that he wasn’t resisting. Buck knew that Eddie knew Buck would not let this slide, would not let it rest until he was sure that Eddie was okay. Taking his lead, Buck agreed and hopped out of the truck, following Eddie up to his building and then leading the way into his apartment.

“Let’s get this over with,” Eddie said in a resigned voice as he moved into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, Buck pulling himself up and sitting on the counter across from him. “What do you want to know?”

“What happened?” Buck asked simply. “I know you went to the hospital, you were seen by a cardiologist, and now you have a pamphlet on panic attacks. What actually happened?”

Eddie gnawed the inside of his lip, still refusing to look at Buck as he mulled over what to say. He was staring at the lower part of the counter in front of him, Buck’s shoe dangling in his line of sight, though he wasn’t seeing much. All he could see in his mind was that damn suit store, the feeling of the tightness in his chest making him feel claustrophobic and deeply uncomfortable.

“I don’t know. We were trying on suits, and then I just… collapsed. I thought I was having a heart attack,” Eddie summarized it as succinctly as he could, but he knew it wasn’t going to be enough for Buck.

“Okay, but what triggered that?” Buck asked, his voice gently prodding. “Did something upset you, or…?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably, and Buck’s lips curled in a small, sad smile.

“Eddie, it’s just me. You can talk to me. You know you can trust me. Please tell me what happened.”

For a brief moment, Eddie lifted his eyes and met Buck’s gaze. Buck’s expression was earnest, concerned, and Eddie knew he was right. If there was anyone in this world he could trust, it was Buck. Still, he hated talking about his emotions, especially ones he felt like he couldn’t control. And yet, he felt like if he didn’t share it with someone he may explode because he was starting to seriously wonder what was going on in his brain.

“I… you know I’m not good at this,” Eddie muttered, and Buck nodded.

“I know, but… you were there for me when everything with my parents was going on. You told me it was okay to feel what I was feeling, and to share it. I want that for you, too,” Buck told him gently, and Eddie sighed. He felt like a hypocrite; he had told Buck those things, and he had meant it. But for some reason when it came to himself, he had different rules.

“The last time Chris and I wore suits was at Shannon’s funeral,” Eddie said, averting his gaze once more as he began to speak. “I guess that was already putting me on edge. I couldn’t stop thinking about her death and everything that had happened right before she died. I just wanted to get out of there.”

Eddie paused but Buck didn’t say anything, not wanting to interrupt. Buck had a feeling that if Eddie stopped talking he wouldn’t start again so he waited patiently, keeping his mouth shut.

“I think Chris was feeling it, too, but I was too distracted to notice. And then… then the sales guy called Ana Chris’s mom.”

Buck tilted his head to the side, looking over at Eddie, slightly confused. Eddie and Ana had been together for nearly six months, it was only natural that at some point she would be mistaken for Chris’s mom. But Eddie seemed shaken and Buck wasn’t sure he was going to continue.

“What happened then?” Buck asked quietly, trying to gently prompt Eddie to speak again without spooking him. Eddie had gotten a somewhat haunted look in his eyes and Buck could tell he was getting upset. He was tempted to tell Eddie to stop, not wanting him to be distraught, but he sensed Eddie really needed to get it out there, so Buck would do everything he could to coax it out.

“I- I genuinely don’t know,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “Hearing that, it just… it intensified my thoughts about Shannon, and thinking of Ana as Chris’s mom is just - just so far beyond where we are in our relationship, and I- I…”

Eddie was starting to get visibly upset and Buck slipped off the counter, moving over to stand beside him in case he needed support.

“It made me realize that m-maybe I don’t want-- maybe things aren’t going so great, or something. I don’t know.”

“And then?” Buck prompted gently, feeling his heart break as Eddie glanced at him, clearly upset.

“And then… I don’t know. I don’t panic,” Eddie said stubbornly, though as he thought back to what had happened, he let out a long, unhappy sigh. “But… I guess I panicked. I don’t know. I felt overwhelmed, and my chest got tight and I couldn’t breathe… I got really dizzy and fell over, I thought I was having a heart attack.”

“Panic attacks can be really scary,” Buck told him, trying to reassure him. “They can definitely feel like heart attacks.”

“I don’t panic,” Eddie repeated, scowling at the floor. “I never panic. Not in the military, not when Shannon died, not when you nearly died several times…”

“Eddie, you’ve been through a lot,” Buck reasoned, trying to brush off the last part of the sentence, as though it wasn’t a big deal to him that his near-death experiences were one of the things Eddie considered most upsetting. “Do you think the shooting could be part of this? Or is it just your relationship?”

Eddie shifted uncomfortably again, not responding, and as Buck watched him, he saw tears start to pool in Eddie’s eyes, despite Eddie continually refusing to make eye contact.

“Are you okay?” Buck asked quietly, reaching out and touching him, gripping Eddie’s forearm lightly in a gesture of support. This one little touch seemed to have caused him to come undone, however, and Buck saw his expression contort, his lips pressed together tightly as he tried and failed to stop himself crying.

“No,” Eddie finally blurted out, seemingly completely against his will. “No, I’m not okay.”

Buck’s heart broke and he immediately reached out to embrace Eddie, giving him a chance to pull away if he wanted. When he didn’t, Buck wrapped his arms around him and held him as Eddie choked into his shoulder, trying desperately to stop himself from outright sobbing. It was rare that Buck had seen Eddie cry - he hadn’t seen it since Shannon’s death - and Buck wished he could take Eddie’s pain away, wished he could make the world right for him again.

After a few moments Eddie squirmed in his arms and Buck got the message that he was uncomfortable so he pulled away, but he didn’t go far. Eddie seemed determined to not meet his gaze, furiously wiping at his eyes, and Buck gently rubbed his back, sensing that he really wanted comfort but was trying to stop himself from allowing it. They stood like that for a while, until Eddie’s attempts at stopping his tears dissolved and he took a shaky breath, letting them slip down his cheeks as he pulled himself together.

“It’s okay to not be okay sometimes. You’re going to get through this,” Buck told him, his hand stilling in the middle of Eddie’s back. “And I’m gonna help you get through it, if that’s what you want.”

Eddie swallowed, sniffing, as he listened to Buck speak. He’d always gone through things alone. He’d always thought that was the best way to do it. But in that moment, standing there, knowing he had Buck’s full love and support behind him, Eddie started to wonder if maybe having Buck at his side would be a much better option than going it alone. Eddie nodded slowly, glancing at Buck for a moment before looking away, nodding again.

“Yeah,” Eddie took a shaky breath and looked over at Buck, feeling the tiniest flicker of hope in his heart. “That’s what I want.”

-----------

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#911 #Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #Buddie #fanfic #canon compliant #but definitely pre-Buddie #evan buckley fanfic #eddie diaz fanfic #buddie fanfic #buck fanfic #9-1-1 fanfic #Buck #911 fanfic #spoilers for 5x01 #9-1-1 s5 #911 on fox #9-1-1 on fox

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

(Needles (aphrodisiacs!), blood, and medical paraphernalia ahead. No outright NSFW, but implied at the end)

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

Latex gloves snapped as they stretched over the man’s hands.

You were nervous.

“Sign here. It’s a consent form for the vaccines you’re receiving today.” His voice was level, almost monotone as he placed a clipboard and pen onto the counter next to your chair.

Three vaccines, routine injections.

You’d been putting them off, wary of needles, wary of people having to touch your body. You knew it would be an all-around unpleasant experience, but you had to get it done sometime, no matter how much you tried to avoid it.

Originally it had just been two shots, but the Doctor, Chisaki Kai, had called back informing you that a third injection would be necessary.

A quick scribble with the pen before the masked man was whisking the clipboard away, confirming you’d signed the papers with a quick glance. He had pretty eyes, you noted - golden iris’s visible above the surgical face mask covering his mouth and nose.

Those pretty eyes snapped to yours, the man looking significantly bored. “All’s in order.” You watched him begin assembling the injections on the counter, needles by bottles, alcohol wipes and bandaids nearby.

“The first will go in your left arm, the second in your right, and the third in your left again. It will hurt.” His bedside manner left something to be desired.

He worked quickly and efficiently, plunging the first needle into a bottle, drawing back the plunger to fill it full of liquid before removing it from the bottle. “Please roll up your sleeves.”

Then he was stepping close, needle in one gloved hand, sterile alcohol swab in the other. You were watching him like a hawk, trying your best not to flinch when the cold wipe came into contact with your exposed upper arm.

A quick glance at your flinch, the slight bit of air hissing through your teeth at nothing but the coldness of the wipe had the man cocking his head, but he said nothing.

“Uhm, can you please-uhm, tell me when you’re about to do it?” You gulp, wide eyes trained on the far wall. Just don’t look at the needle, you’ll be fine.

“You prefer to know when to expect the pain?” It was less a question, more a statement, but you nodded nonetheless. “I’ll count to three.”

“One.” A gloved hand lightly touched your arm.

“Two.” Pointer finger and thumb smoothed over your skin, keeping it taut.

“Three.” There was a pinch, immediately followed by deep burning, stinging pain that had you gritting your teeth and wincing.

-----

The scent of bitter, sterile alcohol filled your nose, harshly jerking you to consciousness. Everything smelled like chemicals, latex and bleach and ammonia - not the most pleasant thing to wake up to.

Opening your eyes was easy, lifting your head not so much. You were slumped in your seat, head resting against the counter at your side, feet planted on the ground.

The doctor was crouched in front of you, a small wipe pinched between his fingers, held up to your nose. Golden eyes studied you closely, and upon seeing your eyes open, lashes fluttering, the doctor withdrew the wipe, subsequently taking away the chemical smell.

“You fainted.”

A blink as you gained your bearings, feeling disoriented and weak. You were still in the exam room, a tiny cramped space with barely enough room for a chair beside the exam table.

You swallowed, throat feeling dry, head fuzzy. God, did you hate needles.

“Have you had this reaction to injections before? It’s not uncommon in patients.”

“I.....no? I don’t-uhm-don’t think so...” It felt funny talking, as if you weren’t inside your body.

The doctor stood abruptly, quickly discarding the ammonia wipe into the trash, stripping his gloves off as well before donning a new pair.

“Stay there while you recover. Are you up for the other two shots today, or would you like to schedule an appointment for them at a different time?”

Why the hell didn’t he just give you the shots while you were unconscious?

“I wanna do it today please.” You sighed, reaching to feel the bandaid on your left arm. “I would hate to have to come back and do this again, know what I mean?”

Nothing else was said, just a brief nod from the man before he disappeared from the room. You shuffled your feet, closing your eyes as you leaned back in the chair.

“(Y/N)? Do you feel ready to stand?” He was back, standing in the doorway and looking at you.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You rocked up to your feet, rolling down your sleeve as the doctor stepped froward towards the counter. He gathered up the remaining syringes, bottles, and other supplies before stepping around you and back towards the door.

Again, you did your best to not shy away when he passed you, not wanting to make contact. Your skin was so sensitive, you hated touching people, or feeling their clothes brush against your skin. The man didn’t seem to notice, but that was alright. You were used to dodging threatening sensations in your life.

He guided you through the clinic, towards the back where a small office was situated, a comfortable-looking couch against one of the walls. His name wasn’t on the door - you remember now, Doctor Chisaki.

Or was he a nurse? You didn’t know.

But his name wasn’t on the door. Was it okay to be in this office? Don’t they usually make you wait in the exam room?

“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back shortly.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

Today was your day off, the entire day devoted to getting your shots done, to overcoming this obstacle, handling the immense stress that came with it. It didn’t bother you to spend it sitting down and playing word searches on your phone.

But still....

“Don’t patients usually wait in the exam room? Or in the waiting room?” You asked the man as soon as he re-entered the room, stack of paperwork in one hand as he shut the door with the other.

He gave you a once-over, body tucked into the corner of the couch, before he spoke. “Usually, but I want to make sure you don’t pass out where I can’t see you. That’d make me a bad doctor. This isn’t common procedure, sure, but I didn’t expect your body to be so-” weak “-easily indisposed.”

The tone of his voice kept completely level, hardly any emotions showing on his face, but still you felt... chilled by this man. There was no reassurance from him, no compassion or empathy.

“I’ll administer your remaining shots in 45 minute increments, that should give you enough time to recover between each one. You’ll have to lay down for them though, that’s why you’re sitting on that couch.”

Polite, but it still felt like you were getting talked-down-to. He was patronizing you.

You gave him a curt nod to show you understood, before fumbling your phone out of your pocket to begin passing the time.

Doctor Chisaki sat down behind the empty desk, neatly placing his stack of papers on the wood before taking a sheet off the top and clicking his pen. From where he was sitting, you were in his direct line of sight, and you could feel him glancing at you occasionally as the scribble of his pen and the tapping of your fingers filled the silence.

45 minutes passed quickly, too quickly for your liking. You weren’t looking forward to the next shot.

Same instructions as before - roll up your sleeve, he’d count to three.

But the doctor paused after swabbing your arm clean. “You keep flinching. Am I hurting you?”

“No, I mean, not really.” You shrugged. “I don’t like it when people touch me I guess, feels funny.”

“Well, try to relax.”

Easy for him to say, hard for you to do.

This time, with you laying down, the shot went much smoother. The doctor counted the three, you hissed in pain at the burning slice of the needle, but retained consciousness. Which frankly, was a success.

“That really hurts.” You breathed as soon as the needle slipped free from your arm. Even thinking about the thin point being in your muscles made you feel queasy. At least you didn’t have to look at it.

“That’s a common side effect. Muscle soreness because the needle is essentially causing a small injury to the fibers, and there are other reasons, but they're more complicated. You want ice?”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ll just deal with it.”

The man blinked. “You have an interesting reaction to pain.”

“Uhhh...” You scrunched up your eyebrows as you glanced up at him, sitting up as you did so. “Thanks?”

“You’re extremely sensitive to tactile stimulation, like to know when you’ll be experiencing pain, but you don’t particularly care about relieving it. Have you ever given blood?”

The question caught you off guard, especially after realizing the man had been analyzing you more closely than you had expected.

“Nah. Does that matter?”

“Not particularly, I’m just curious I guess.” Doctor Chisaki admitted, once again stripping off his gloves and disposing of them before sliding on another pair.

He went back to his paperwork, and you to your phone, but his frequent glances weighed you down. Did you have something on your face? Was your hair messy?

“Could you point me to the bathroom please?” You rose to your feet slowly, making sure you weren’t going to faint as you stood up.

“It’d be better if you stayed seated.” Was his curt reply.

With a frown, you sat back down. Why couldn’t you use the bathroom? Maybe it affected..... something? With the vaccines? You didn’t know enough about how these things worked to really question it. Doctors were professionals, and they had their reasons.

Still, you’d feel a bit more comfortable if the man wasn’t watching you so closely.

45 more minutes of squirming until your next shot.

-----

Lay down.

Roll up your sleeve.

Try to relax.

Deep breathe.

“You smell.”

“What?” Your head snapped to the side, confused. You smelled?

“It’s not bad. What scent is it?”

Blinking back surprise, you relayed the scent on your shampoo and conditioner. This doctor was a bit... unconventional. But his sudden question did take your mind off of the countdown, off of the pain. Smart.

“My nose is sensitive, most scents are overwhelming and while I like cleanliness I cannot stand the smell of bleach or most cleaning products. I chose the wrong profession for that, didn’t I?”

His version of a joke made you almost chuckle, a lazy grin stretching across your face instead. “You certainly did. You ever try Pine Sol though? That’s what I use for like, everything.”

The doctor shook his head, and you chattered on about the unoffensive-smelling cleaner, where you bought the bottle you have under your sink, how you use it. He listened intently as he plastered another bandaid over your arm.

“Alright, I can go now?” You asked, sitting up for the last time.

“No.”

“No?”

“Vasovagal syncope can still occur, I’d prefer you not faint and bash your head open on the ground. There’d be such a mess.”

Mouth snapping shut at the fancy medical term, you couldn’t help but sigh as you slumped back against the couch.

“Bored?”

“I’ve been here for almost four hours. You don’t have other patients to get to?” You didn’t think to check the accusatory tone in your voice.

The doctor put aside his pen, folding his hands on the desk as he stared at you with golden eyes. “They’ve been transferred to different doctors. My current patient has taken precedence. I don’t half-ass things like some people, I see my projects to completion.”

You were a bit taken aback at the vehemence in his voice, the way his eyes dropped to slits, narrowing fiercely at you.

“That’s what it means to be in this profession. I’m here to cure people. I make sure that sickness doesn’t spread between humans like fire in a barn full of hay. What I do is important and deserving of respect, I’m ensuring the survival of humanity, am I not?”

The intense tension in the air built, the doctor staring you down. “I’m close to becoming a renowned doctor. Just one, one breakthrough will finally get the world to see me. ”

He cocked his head, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled beneath the mask. “I thank your efforts in being a volunteer towards my latest project. It’s been a bit difficult to find someone who readily accepted an unknown injection.”

Unknown.. injection?

“What are you talking about?”

“The second injection isn’t a vaccine, more like a... pet project of mine. I can’t wait to see what it does.”

“You can’t-this is malpractice, I didn’t consent to this-” Your fists clenched as you stood.

“You signed the consent papers. They’ll hold up in court. Most people receive the vaccines you got today when they’re still teenagers, and under their parents care. Lucky for me, you’re afraid of needles it seems, so you’ve been a bit neglectful. Hard to get a parent to sign over their child as a test subject, easy to get a fearful individual to listen to their doctor.”

A twinkle in his eye made you want to punch his lights out. “What the hell dude, you call yourself a doctor? What did you inject me with?”

The man rose from behind the desk, moving until he stood in front of you. “You’ll see soon enough. I’m pleased that you’re so concerned with hygiene, that makes this easier for both of us.”

“What??”

“And you can forget about calling for help, not that you’ll want to. But everyone’s left for the day-” He checked his wrist, where a nice watch gleamed at you mockingly. “45 minutes ago. So feel free to disclose your symptoms as they pop up as loud as you’d like.”

The man sat down on the couch, easily sinking into the plush material looking up at you with a malicious gleam in his eyes. He had been playing you since you’d walked into the clinic. Was this some sort of prank?

“You’re messing with me.”

“I’ve told you, I see my projects to completion. This is the testing stage, and it might be a while before it’s over. Why would I waste time messing with someone else’s dumb little life?’

Your mouth felt dry, face warm. Why did your legs feel all pleasantly tingly? There was a slowly-building heat simmering low in your core, and if you weren’t standing directly in front of Chisaki, you’d rub your legs together. What did he do to you?

“Now, sit down, and tell your doctor what's bothering you.”

#kai #kai chisaki #chisaki #bnha #yandere #Yandere bnha #Yandere chisaki #Yandere kai #Yandere kai chisaki #Chisaki kai #overhaul #overhaul Chisaki kai #medical au #quirkless au #dark chisaki #tw.dubcon #tw.needles #tw.medical issues #tw.vaccines

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hakutaichou · 2 years

Text

[JP] Love and Producer: Animage (2020 October Issue) [Victor]

This translation is from “Animage Magazine” which released on September 10, 2020.

Bonds and Future: Victor, Lucien Encouraging Comrades: Kiro, Gavin

- Bonds and Future -

“The role of teaching the reality while showing the path of dreams” “MC is a partner who can stand up together with Victor”

“When I fell down after protecting Victor, he took good care of me. He was thrown into 10 years later world. But can he return safely?”

...

Interviewer: The latter half of the anime series, are become a chaotic development.

Sugita: To those who have seen the original game must have understood, but this work has various elements in the first place. It’s like, a survival that wins the company funds, a fantasy that fights against mankind’s enemy, and a sci-fi that travels in space and time..... When the episode changes, the genre of the work may changed so much, and the tone of story also changing a lot.

Interviewer: It’s full of surprises, isn’t.

Sugita: But, I’m enjoying it as well. Besides, on the top of voicing as Victor, I think if there’s not much problem on it. Because there’s a scene where he exists with MC, so no matter what situation he is in, I can understand that, “Oh, that’s why he won’t leave her alone”.

Interviewer: So far, Victor has had a lot of daily interactions with MC.

Sugita: Victor, has a strong appearance, but I think he played the role of “The wall that MC faces”. And while teaching MC the reality, he is the person who shows her the patch to the dream. However, if he discussing about it so easily, it will boring..... Probably, I think the one who closest to MC is Senior Gavin.

Interviewer: Other cast members also said that, “If you want to make a friend, choose Gavin”.

Sugita: I think so too. The word “Senior” really suits him. I think he has a position of a caring older brother. Lucien is, a person who “acts” to get along with her. Kiro is, a trustworthy and kind to her, but since he’s a superstar, he wouldn’t have much room to deepen understanding a ordinary people. On that point, Senior Gavin is city’s civil servant, in that sense as well, it’s easy to talk to him.

Interviewer: Speaking of Victor, Sugita-san was said that “A person who is looking for an understanding person” in special program in June.

Sugita: That’s right, but that will be same as MC too. Even though there’s no teacher who begging for teaching, she have to continue making programs by taking over the company that left by her father. Victor is depicted as the opposite character to MC, but the situation is similar. In the situation where there’s no understanding person, It is said that only the results are sought after it.

Note: for 1st Anniversary Special Interview Program Translation, I’ll add it later...

Interviewer: How did Victor climbed up to this far?

Sugita: It’s not drawn, is it? he’s the CEO of venture company, but probably his style of work, is the exact opposite of love and familiarity. I think by looking at the numbers without being distracted by the emotions, and approach somethings that are likely to grow is a venture job. Especially if Victor thinks “This is not good”, he will easily cut it off.

Interviewer: How can I make friends with Victor?

Sugita: First of all, how can you talk to him. Since Victor isn’t interested in someone like me, in indirect way, I will said ”How much?” to him. After that, he will say “You suddenly talking about that!?”, the air is getting worse, and his assistant Goldman is going to stop us (lol).

Interviewer: Suddenly talking about money (lol). I’m glad that Victor was also a chef at a famous restaurant.

Sugita: The ruthless CEO, is actually good at making sweets that makes a gap direction, but it’s a good thing that why he making pudding, is because it’s related to MC’s memories and his own destiny. I thought there is inevitability as his behavior.

Interviewer: What part of MC’s weakness do you think Victor is felt of?

Sugita: It’s probably a partner who was originally decided as his fate, but I think it’s not just being swept away by fate, and it’s not one of them pulling up the other, it’s “The partner who can stand up together”. In his words, I’m glad I was able to come to that conclusion.

Interviewer: At last, please give a message to the fans!

Sugita: ...In the time like this, what will Victor answer? Maybe in very short words... No, he won’t even say “I look forward to working with you”. Since he is a deviate person, he carelessly won’t answer. Is it after showing him the document made by company? As I thought, he is a scary person. But what if Victor and the other three get involved? Until now, the side connections between the four people have hardly been drawn, so I feel like, I want to see what interaction between men is like.

#mlqc #mlqc jp #mlqc victor

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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The difference between the Adventure group’s and the 02 group’s respective relationships with their Digimon

Kizuna very prominently depicts a difference between the older six Adventure group members (Taichi, Yamato, Sora, Koushirou, Mimi, Jou) and the younger six 02 group members (Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke, Ken, Miyako, Iori) in terms of how they interact with their partners, and part of it is because of the strange relationship between Kizuna and 02′s themes, but, in fact, there had always been a rather subtle difference between said dynamics even since all the way back in 02, just exacerbated by the 02 group being the only ones to be able to open Digital Gates via their D-3s and the fact that the circumstances of the plot were a bit engineered to make the 02 group a bit more functional during its duration.

The image of “every human-Digimon partner pair hanging together all of the time even through mundane daily life events” is certainly romantic, but, in fact, the older Adventure group is not portrayed as a group that necessarily longs for such an arrangement, and the 02 group doing so is something they specifically do because of their own personalities. This is something very tied to the distinction between the Adventure and 02 groups’ respective ways of life and internal dynamics, and what it says about each individual group’s preferences of independence vs. mutual support.

Once Adventure’s finale hit and the Adventure group had their first bout of “separation” from their partners, thus began the “two-and-a-half year break”, in which the Adventure group had to suddenly accept separation from their partners after (what had been to them) months of being together all of the time. It’s an understandable feeling of loss! You “took something for granted” when it’d been with you all of the time, you made an incredible, important friend and suddenly had to part. That said, there are some nuances to this that need to be taken into account here:

Takeru and Hikari (who turn out to later become involved with the 02 group and take on their mentality) are the two most confident about their parting on the note of “we’ll definitely meet again, don’t worry about it, it’ll be okay,” which is a pretty obvious meta hint at 02 airing one week later, but also does say a bit that they’re the ones most hung up on the possible reunion.

The two-and-a-half year break is characterized not so much by a permanent and unbroken separation as much as the lack of ability for Taichi and his friends to meet up with Agumon and the other partners on a regular, controlled basis. They weren’t completely cut off from contact -- Taichi receiving a message from Agumon in the above-linked drama CD, Koushirou keeping in contact with Gennai regularly, the entire events of Our War Game!, the Adventure mini dramas (yes, those are canon), the 15th anniversary drama CD, and the reunion depicted in 02 episode 27′s flashback. Moreover, the way Koushirou approaches the Digital Gates in the early episodes of 02, along with Two-and-a-Half Break itself, makes it clear that the gates still did open sporadically, it’s just that, since there was no real rhyme or reason to them opening, meetups with partners weren’t something that could be coordinated smoothly. Given that, it’s not that surprising that Taichi met up with Agumon without altogether too much fanfare in 02 episode 1 -- it certainly wasn’t something he could have done often, but the two had met up a handful of times during the last two and a half years, so it’s understandable that it doesn’t necessarily merit a massively dramatic reunion, especially when there’s a crisis going on at the exact moment.

Once the events of 02 kicked off, the Adventure kids started having some touching reunions with their respective partners now that the 02 kids’ D-3s could provide reliable standbys for going in and out of the Digital World, and, of course, it’s natural that they’d be a bit emotional after their contact had been so disjointed (even though, as with Taichi, it’s not actually nearly as dramatic as one might expect), but once that’s out of the way...

Practicality suggests that the Adventure kids’ Digimon partners would choose to spend most of their time in the Digital World for the duration of 02...but, in fact, even that considered, the older Adventure kids really don’t seem that bothered to not get to see their partners every day of their lives. Granted, they of course presumably don’t want to constantly bother their juniors all of the time to open the gate for them, but Sora demonstrates in 02 episode 12 that she will grab them and go in if it’s urgent, so there’s no reason to believe they wouldn’t recruit the kids to open the gate for them if they wanted or needed it that badly. Moreover, the juniors being able to consistently open and close the gate means that constant communication and occasional meetups with their Digimon partners are more than possible -- recruiting one of their partners to do something on the other end isn't too hard anymore, given the events of 02 episode 32 or such -- and so, the “inconsistent, fleeting contact” that spanned the “two-and-a-half year break” is no longer a problem.

All things considered, if the older kids really wanted to create some kind of pipeline or arrangement so they could hang out with their partners on the daily like the 02 kids do, you’d think they (especially Koushirou) would try a little harder, but they don’t actually seem to treat it with much more urgency than having a really good friend who might be a bit of a slightly inconvenient bus ride away. The fact that they actually have reasonably consistent methods of access to see each other if they really want to is comfort in itself. Of course, when Christmas comes and the juniors arrange a situation for all of their seniors to see their partners again, it really is a Christmas gift, because of course there’s the joy of getting to see an incredibly treasured friend you don’t normally get to see in a while!...but even then, Taichi says that Agumon should at least stay for the holiday, with a completely casual tone that suggests he has absolutely no qualms or emotional hangups about the idea that Agumon’s going to have to return to the Digital World soon and they won’t have day-to-day contact anymore (it’ll just be nice if Agumon can stay for the rice cake soup).

In the end, this is actually...probably a pretty normal thing to expect. Digimon partners are “best friends” in ways that are a bit unusually beyond your average so-called “best friend”, in that they’re somewhat psychologically linked to their human partners and thus “get” them in ways an average human friend wouldn’t, but nevertheless, it’s not like everyone constantly wants to have their best friend with them every single moment of every single day; boundaries and independence are a thing, and even Miyako felt that it was appropriate to leave Poromon with Koushirou for the duration of her Kyoto trip in 02 episode 33. (In fact, if you squint carefully, there are times when even the 02 kids’ Digimon occasionally don’t accompany their partners; Patamon and Tailmon didn’t attend the soccer game in 02 episode 8.) Or, if you want to take this all the way back to Adventure, “needing space” from one’s own partner once in a while was lightly addressed when Tentomon deliberately recused himself from Koushirou having a heart-to-heart with his parents, because he understood Koushirou needed catharsis on his own terms (and we see Hawkmon and Tailmon even do the same for Miyako and Hikari in 02 episode 31). So when those best friends were placed in dubious places of contact and it became difficult to tell when they’d ever meet again, it was emotionally difficult in the same way being forcibly cut off from a treasured friend and not being allowed to see them regularly would hurt -- but once some degree of regular, guaranteed contact was established, and it was understood that they could meet up when they needed to, they could schedule that easily (and in fact there’s no evidence that the older Adventure group never made use of that during days in the year that weren’t depicted in 02 proper).

Not only that, the Digital World is also treated as having its own “will” and letting Chosen in as needed in 02 episode 22, thus implying that, even without the 02 kids’ D-3s as a fail-safe, it was getting more receptive to open gates in general; Koushirou had been keeping track of them and alerting other Chosen to whenever they opened naturally (including Mimi in 02 episode 14), allowing contact to continue on a more regular basis.

So why are the 02 kids and their Digimon so different? Since the incidents depicted in 02 didn’t impact the real world itself until late in the series, why didn’t they make an arrangement like their seniors where the kids would meet up with their partners in the Digital World after school, thus avoiding the trouble of having to hide them in school and pass them off as plushies everywhere? Well, the thing is, they almost had that kind of arrangement...and it lasted only one episode. It was made a prominent point in 02 episode 2 that even after meeting V-mon and barely getting to know him, Daisuke couldn’t get him out of his mind. Then, Miyako and Iori met their own partners, and when they all emerged, the 02 group’s partners themselves came out with them, with Tentomon and Piyomon being the ones to say that they’d rather stay behind for the time being. In other words, it wasn’t a question of practicality surrounding the territory war with the Kaiser -- the 02 group’s Digimon and humans themselves actually wanted to stick to each other this badly, even if it meant that the Digimon would be staying in in an unfamiliar world long-term (after all, the Digital World is still every Digimon’s natural home, so it’s possible that the older kids’ Digimon aren’t too enthused about the idea of staying in the real world for so long themselves).

In the end, the real reason the 02 group and their Digimon stick to each other so constantly through any and all situations has to do with their mentality. In the case of the Adventure group, while being trapped in another world gave them a sense of necessity in sticking together all of the time and thus created a bit of extra shock when sudden separation occurred, either way, said older group was a bit more independent-minded and was ultimately able to mentally adjust to returning to a status quo where they couldn’t expect to see their partners all of the time, and managed to build proper lives around that assumption. Even when their partners were regularly accessible, they were able to live their lives somewhat independently from each other (especially due to the difficulty of integrating Digimon into the real world at this stage), with the understanding that they still could meet each other whenever necessary for anything ranging from a dangerous incident to simply just wanting to get together and have a nice heart-to-heart. The 02 group, on the other hand, consisted of a group of slight misfits with some degree of socialization problems prior to the start of the series, who have mentalities based on “their relationship with others” moreso than independence; their group dynamic was based on a slight amount of dependence on mutual support rather than necessarily being able to sustain themselves on their own, and it thus follows that they and their like-minded partners would be a bit clingier as a result, because they’re more in need of that emotional support and company on a day-to-day basis.

Look at Daisuke, whose entire character has a lot to do with his need for validation and support from others; it’s very easy to imagine that prolonged separation from V-mon might outright cause them separation anxiety before long (remember Daisuke’s reaction to getting briefly separated from V-mon after only knowing him for less than a day in 02 episode 2!). Or Takeru and Hikari, who still are parsing a lot of really unresolved issues that weren’t actually properly addressed in Adventure (remember: they’re the ones who were only able to accept the idea of parting if they had certainty that they’d meet again, and Tailmon especially associates Hikari specifically with a life she couldn’t initially have). These kids dislike being separated from each other for too long, so it stands to reason that they’re going to dislike separation from their respective partners even less. 02 being a story about relationships means it’s a series about how people who have difficulty finding their answers by themselves find it through the support of others, and so, more latently, it’s only natural that it’ll extend to their partners, and that their partners, being somewhat like-minded, would reflect that by willingly choosing to leave the Digital World to cling to their partners, even in an unfamiliar world.

Of course, you could potentially chalk this up to sheer practicality, in that the 02 group had access to D-3s and were simply making use of their time together, or that the nature of the Digital World territory war eventually getting brought out into the real world guided their actions this way...but, in fact, Kizuna continues to double down on there being a distinct difference between these two.

Because Kizuna only gives us very “limited context” by showing us limited snippets of a few days instead of the whole eight months 02 spanned over, we’re forced to extract from only a very small “sample size” of interactions, but one thing the movie does make clear is that the Adventure and 02 groups are both roughly in the same boat in regards to what they can and can’t do regarding their partners and the Digital World. The “advantage” the 02 group had over their seniors in that they could easily open gates is no longer in play, because travel can happen at leisure even with the older group thanks to the smartphone terminals Koushirou’s made (the deluxe Blu-ray booklet confirms that it’s the smartphones doing it, so it’s not like Yamato’s referring to the ability to grab one of the 02 group members here). On top of that, Digimon have some degree of recognition in society, so it’s not too much of a big deal to have them in real life, and all of the Digimon partners are probably much more used to going back and forth and being familiar with both parts of society. And yet, despite that, there is a difference.

The main reason I so often urge people not to take the question of “who has partners present in the credits and who doesn’t” as a definitive statement of who’s lost their partners like Taichi, Yamato, and Sora have is that the opening does the same thing -- none of the Adventure group’s partners are depicted in the respective characters’ vicinity, even though we know at this point that none of them have full-on disappeared yet. Rather, when you think about it, it’s more that the point being made is that their partners aren’t with them all of the time -- just because the gates are easily opened by anyone in this cast now doesn’t mean that the Adventure characters decided to bring them home to live with them the way the 02 group did. Tentomon is not shown to be in the proximity of Koushirou in the movie’s initial scenes, nor in the opening, nor during his company negotiations, and it’s only during later events when he’s seen in the office. Palmon not being on the plane with Mimi may well mean that she’s not actually with her all of the time, mainly just working alongside her every so often, and Jou’s memorial short indicates that there’s a certain degree of partners acting independently now (especially now that they can operate in the real world without too much issue). Obviously, said Digimon partners are still hanging around and reasonably well-involved in their lives, but they’re not always next to them, and may be hanging around elsewhere in the real world or killing time in the Digital World -- but meanwhile, the number of times any of the 02 group is physically seen in the movie or To Sora without their partner totals at zero.

In the end, the distinction between the older Adventure group’s and the 02 group’s respective behavior may have been somewhat exacerbated by the gate-opening issue at first, but even when that was taken away, the 02 group’s tendency to cling to their partners and vice versa was just something endemic to themselves.

Again, since Kizuna gives us a very limited frame of reference, it’s not to say that the 02 group is always stuck to their partners for every breathing moment of their lives; remember, even all the way back in 02 episode 33, Miyako was willing to leave Poromon with Koushirou for the duration of her Kyoto trip, and the memorial shorts also depict V-mon hanging out with Gabumon in a setting that we assume doesn’t involve Daisuke in the vicinity, and photos of Takeru and Hikari without their partners are seen on Imura’s board, and there certainly must be instances of need for privacy or busy moments of adulthood that couldn’t be depicted in the limited range of the movie -- but the point is made, and there is a massive contrast between the Adventure group living independent lives, and the 02 group playing around and doing mundane things and actively involving their partners in their conversations and interactions in ways far beyond that of their seniors. And, by extension, the fact that the drama CD depicts them going out of their way to meet up with each other in a setting where their seniors aren’t doing anything of the sort; the 02 group’s mentality, shaped by the events of their series, involves treasuring their personal relationships and gaining emotional support from each other as a bigger priority over individual ambition, and it’s applying even to eight years later in Kizuna to the point where it takes very little to recreate the aura of yet another average 02 episode.

Fundamentally speaking, neither group is in the wrong, and the “difference in mentality” between the two groups is reflected all the way into the 02 epilogue, so this is not a narrative that praises or condemns people for aligning more with being independent-minded and ambitious and not necessarily needing company most of the time, versus being the kind who needs company and emotional support from others and excelling better at giving that kind of support in return. Kizuna’s narrative doesn’t cast the more ostensibly distant (less so “distant” and more “more capable of independent action”) relationship the Adventure group has with their partners in a particularly negative light. I’m sure many reading this post will probably identify more with one group or the other here in terms of their way of living life and maintaining relationships. However, it does cast the concept of “abandoning one’s partner” as the reason for partnership dissolution -- not physical abandonment, but rather, emotional abandonment.

The timing of the partnership dissolution is the key, because the movie puts a huge spotlight on it not happening to Koushirou and Takeru for the time being, which means we’re obligated to look at Taichi and Yamato to see why it’s happening to them and them specifically, and what they have in common. Well, one day prior, they’d dumped their partners on their siblings with very few words, and then, over dinner, had outright scoffed at the idea of bringing their partners to school with them. Again, it’s not the issue of bringing them or not when even Koushirou doesn’t seem to be hanging out with Tentomon all of the time, but rather that they have such a condescending and cold attitude about it, as if their partners are “in the way” of their adult lives. Taichi doesn’t necessarily have to have Agumon live with him as a roommate, but he’s portrayed as horribly lonely and yet hadn’t even let Agumon visit once because he was so willing to shut him out. In other words, Taichi and Yamato had taken their partners so much for granted that they were basically yanking them out once in a while whenever they needed them for Digimon battles, and then tossing them aside flippantly to get back to whatever their lives were, rather than working on maintaining their relationships or allowing for emotional support. For the early duration of the movie, their conversations are not quite there, and are a bit stilted. Partner or not, it’s a cold way to treat a friend who just really wants to be there to support you.

And when you look at Sora, or Menoa (who’s revealed in the novel to have also been emotionally drifting from Morphomon for the sake of her studies), their abandonment of their partners was hardly physical -- Piyomon was there to watch Sora’s flower arrangement work, it’s just that Sora was coldly turning her away and snapping at her for the sake of her work, and Menoa was most likely still living in the same house as Morphomon back when she was studying in Colorado, but nevertheless, she hadn’t been talking to her anymore. Meanwhile, on the other hand, while Koushirou doesn’t seem to be with Tentomon all of the time, he still has a proper heart-to-heart with him in a way that wouldn’t be completely out of place in Adventure, so you can see why he’s not nearly in trouble as Taichi, Yamato, and Sora are at the time of the movie.

So, the take-home is that it’s not necessarily a requirement to be with your partner every single breathing moment of the day like the 02 group is; of course, them being more on the clingy (for lack of a better way to put it) side means that being emotionally in-tune with them is just a fact of life, but Koushirou, Mimi, and Jou all seem to have figured out comfortable ways of interaction and boundaries with their own partners even despite occasional distance, and that’s why they’re not in danger of losing their partners at the time of the movie, despite all of them technically being adults and Jou being a year older. (Well, there’s also the secondary metaphorical meaning of a partner meaning one’s own personal dreams and aspirations and how that factors into Taichi, Yamato, Sora, and Menoa’s actions, but we’ll leave that as a separate topic for the time being.)

One interesting thing about the epilogue is that, because the meeting depicted takes place in the Digital World and we have a very limited amount of information, we don’t really have evidence that most of the adult Chosen actually live with their Digimon partners on a day-to-day basis -- the only thing concrete we have is a strong implication that Hawkmon lives at home with Miyako’s family, which is reasonably par for the course with Miyako and Hawkmon’s respective characterizations (and although it’s not shown, you can also imagine that the very clingy Wormmon would likely prefer living with “Ken-chan” and his family). Otherwise, the only other “home” scene we get to see is that of Takeru and his son, but their partners aren’t shown in the real world.

The Character Complete File does add some implications depending on how you want to read certain ones, and Armadimon’s lack of presence in Iori’s attorney scene could conversely mean that he’s more likely to be a presence in Iori’s home life than he is in his work (which is also reasonably consistent with their characters), but either way, the take-home is that the nature of each Digimon partner’s involvement in each adult’s day-to-day life is ambiguous. So you can really make any kind of extrapolation about whose partners are involved in their lives to what degree; it’s been 17 years since Kizuna, relationships and day-to-day life needs have changed, and things like “career partner” and “family member” (or both) don’t necessarily have to entail a Digimon partner constantly clinging to their head and witnessing every moment of their life, as long as the understanding is still there that everyone still has a clear amount of emotional involvement and connection in each other’s lives to some degree.

It’s also interesting to note that the epilogue actually picks a slightly unusual way of phrasing the Digimon partnership phenomenon spreading globally: “a Digimon partner exists for everyone in the world.” In terms of sheer technical meaning, it’s not altogether that different from “everyone has a Digimon partner,” but such oblique wording brings more to mind the idea that, even now, not everyone may have met their Digimon partner yet, or may be living separately from them between worlds, or, with retroactive Kizuna context, being in a bit of an existential crisis or loss of self and having your partner not currently manifested for the time being -- but that doesn’t preclude you from having a partner, as long as you’re capable of maintaining some kind of relationship with them.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #shihameta

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ginkgomoon · 3 years

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Gavin’s Old Days Date- Analysis

I received an ask just then about this date and so I’m typing my heart away at 2 in the morning. It didn’t really fully sink in to how much of a good date Old Days was until some time had passed, with the way how I looked at Gavin back then different to how I saw him now. This date brought back so many emotions and memories- especially when it’s such a well-rounded story with various hidden meanings and references which enabled me to have something to analyse!

This date circulates around Gavin and MC’s high school history in the span of days Friday and Saturday- on that fateful day when Gavin wanted to give the letter, to the night he waited for her.

It also has a circular storyline structure, from when MC first dreams of Gavin that catalyses following events. But something we also have to note is that the whole entire time until the very last few minutes- MC is ‘dreaming’.

The turbulent flow of time and space stunned me, and countless doors opened before me one by one.

The memory fragments poured in, and those images reflecting me and Gavin flew past quickly.

He turned his back to me and walked away, his white shirt fluttering in the wind, almost engulfed by the increasingly denser mist.

I shouted his name aloud and ran desperately, wanting to catch up with him, but the corner of his shirt was like wind that couldn't be grasped, dispersing between my fingers.

His figure became increasingly blurred as he was farther and farther, finally disappearing completely in the narrow field of vision.

Standing in the void, I seemed to have lost all directions and motivation forward.

Until a gentle breeze with a familiar fragrance blew the fog away.

There seemed to be dazzling sunlight piercing through the clouds, and after the mist dissipated, a completely different space-time appeared before me…

This part of MC’s dream is like a metaphor for Gavin’s sudden leave. The mini fragments of her memories and the information that she knew now compared to back in high school come together to try to form some comprehensible picture in her mind, which in this case- her dream.

(Which probably was helped by the presence of Black Cabin with the ‘“doors”. But I could also argue that it wasn’t, because this isn’t supposed to be the first time MC enters Black Cabin. Then again, dates differ from the main storyline.)

But just like how MC is Gavin’s North Star, without him, even she is lost and directionless. They both need each other. As they are each others’ mystery, they are each others’ answers.

“This uniform and medals are my beliefs, with you guiding me in the direction forward.” -Go See Him

MC wants to reach out, not wanting Gavin to leave her, just like how he left seven years ago. Though even here, Gavin’s wind helps guide her forward- to meet him again in this time-space.

Dreams are still a big mystery to us. Some say it reveals our deepest desires and fears presented by our subconscious. By listening to it, we are able to guide our efforts in achieving and chasing what we truly desire whilst avoiding our fears. And if some dreams are based on truth, then it can easily foreshadow what we are about to encounter.

As MC finally settles in appearing at their old school of Loveland High, she sees Gavin.

Through the crowds, he seemed to be looking at the girl standing on the middle of the flag raising platform with a speech draft in her hands. Without realising, he crumpled the letter in his hand even more tightly.

The infamous letter.

Moments ago he saw me, he was so shocked that his pupils contracted slightly. He also slipped when he was about to jump down.

“Who are you?”

The shock in his eyes was now replaced by alertness and uncertainty.

Gavin clearly doesn’t know this MC- because in this time-space, she doesn’t really exist. As I said above, as dreams can be based on truth and our desires, MC feels like she could have done something to correct their relationship in this course of time. But at this stage between her and Gavin, she doesn’t know much about it because he never explicitly told her and she wants to know. This dream is a manifestation of that.

MC: “Excuse me, do you know MC? I am her cousin.”

MC also experiences being her own cousin such as in Time Subway’s Loveland High Noodle Bar and STF Drill Ground.

Gavin looked at me suspiciously for a long time, and finally nodded indifferently.

Gavin: “Oh, what do you want with her?”

MC: “How is she doing in school lately?”

Gavin: “I don’t know her that well.”

Gavin helps MC locate herself- her high school self- but when she looks back, he has already disappeared. She then overhears students talking about Gavin getting beaten up by a hundred people and becomes an investigator into his whereabouts.

The next part of the date isn’t from MC’s narration, which led me to believe that this really did happen in MC and Gavin’s own universe. The ‘truth’ of the dream.

*Beating up happening*

Random Kid Who Doesn’t Have Better Things To Do: “I heard that our school overlord is transferring to another school. Is that true? Since you are leaving, why can’t you be good?”

Gavin: “That’s none of your business!”

Random Kid Who Doesn’t Have Better Things To Do: “True, but after you leave, your beloved girl will no longer be under protection, right? Don’t worry I’ll take care of her for you. And I heard she’s our campus belle.”

Gavin (fiercely with an angry face): “What did you say?”

*More beating up*

MC’s POV begins.

Finally, I found the alley from memory.

Gavin: “You won’t get off so easily next time. Try getting near her and see what happens.”

Gavin leaves and even MC wasn’t fast enough to catch a wounded, bleeding Gavin. She racks her brains to try to figure out where he is, and finally comes to the piano room.

And BEHOLD- Gavin casually sitting on a ginkgo tree dressing his wounds.

Gavin (annoyed): “Why are you everywhere…”

MC: “Are you waiting for MC? She’s preparing for exams so she won’t be here today.”

Gavin: “...I wasn’t looking for her.”

Gavin reluctantly agrees to follow MC into the infirmary and she starts to help properly dress his wounds.

MC: “Are you not a close friend with MC?”

Gavin: “... I’ve just heard her name before. She’s got good grades and she’s very kind.”

MC: “Have you ever talked to her?”

Gavin: “Nope.”

MC: “Then how do you know she’s kind?”

Gavin: “Why should I answer your questions?”

He looked a little vexed, looking away with his ears turning red.

MC: “Sorry, I meant well. It’s just that she’s mentioned you to me. She says you’re not as bad as what people say you are. You helped carry her books and took her to the infirmary…”

Gavin: “I just happened to be around.”

MC: “Err, then you must happen to be around quite a lot.”

Gavin: “How do you know all of this?”

MC: “She tells me everything. We even look very similar don’t we?”

Gavin: “But you act differently.”

MC helps Gavin finish patching his wounds and Gavin is noted to be unwilling to stay with her.

MC: “I have one more thing to tell you. MC is a bit slow. She is not as good as you think, and will also be blinded by rumours…”

Gavin interrupts me coldly.

Gavin: “She’s a very nice person. What she thinks of me has nothing to do with anyone else. If you're here just to tell me these things, then I don't need to listen to you.”

Gavin grabbed his uniform, but a white object fell from his pocket to the floor.

It was a crumpled letter. Stained in blood.

I went to pick it up but the paper slipped out and I caught a glimpse of the contents by accident.

Gavin quickly picked up the letter and put it back without saying a word.

There was a flash of dismissal in his eyes. He tried to flatten the creases on the letter awkwardly.

(RIP LETTER. He even tried to flatten it. GAVINNN)

Gavin’s view remains the same in their own universe- “You can’t change other people’s opinions but you can change your attitude towards them. Don't let yourself be easily affected. You shouldn't envy me. You’re different from me. You're kind and thoughtful. That's what makes you, you. Besides, I’m not as free as you think, and I care about a lot of things.” -Company Footage [Chapter 3-7]

The scene around her changes. MC figures that if this is the memory of her and Gavin, then the most important thing was to find him.

MC’s mind fixates on the familiar bloody letter- recalling its words. MC then sprints to the school library.

The library looked a little deserted in the darkness. Looking along the rows of bookshelves, I finally found Gavin seated next to the window.

At this point, Gavin has been waiting a whole day for high school MC to meet him. She didn’t read the letter that had the time he wanted her to come.

He turned around and the moment he heard my footsteps, and the glimmer in his eyes suddenly died away again when he saw me.

I realised that on this day, he had wanted to say goodbye.

He just frowned and looked away, uninterested.

MC: “Are you waiting for MC? She might have misunderstood. Sorry, let me apologise for her.”

Gavin: “It has nothing to do with you.”

He paused and said in a self-mockery tone.

Gavin: “I knew she wouldn't come anyway.”

I’ve never seen Gavin like this. At this time, he was still so young and one could easily read his emotions.

Only then did I realise how he described his past as a mere “regret” was an understatement. He had to endure the long wait and the misery of being understood silently.

(It’s 2am and I’m crying.)

I mistook the farewell letter as a threat and threw it away. I never tried to learn the truth and misunderstood him. And still was protected and cherished by him.

I never felt so sorry and never wanted to blame myself even more.

If I didn't know all of this, if we had never met each other after we went in opposite directions…

MC: “Although I know saying these now is meaningless...You’ll be a very awesome person in the future, and you will stick to your belief and to justice. And you’ll also meet the person you want to meet. Even though she might not be great and always troubles you, you will definitely meet each other in the future. So…”

But when I looked back up, Gavin was gone.

As if back to the beginning of the dream, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up or make a sound.

And MC wakes up. (Circular storyline- starts and end with a dream- starts and ends with Gavin.)

“Why did it take you so long to answer? Did you just wake up?”

It was Gavin.

MC: “Gavin… I….”

Gavin: “Why do you sound so weird?”

MC: “I had a dream about you.”

Gavin: “Was it a bad dream? Don’t worry, it won’t happen. By the way, I'll be at your place soon. I brought steamed buns and soybean milk for breakfast.”

Just like how he bought milk and bread for her at the infirmary after she fainted during a school sports event.

The moment I saw Gavin, I threw myself into his arms, crying.

His strong chest, the familiar smell under his collar. This was Gavin, the Gavin who would never disappear or leave me.

Gavin: “Why are you crying?”

He tried to dry my tears clumsily, but both his hands were occupied, so he had to move to the table and put the breakfast down while I hung onto him like a koala.

Gavin: “Tell me, what was your dream about?”

MC: “In my dream, you skipped class, got into fights, and ignored me.”

Gavin: “...”

MC: “You also said, ‘it’s none of your business’ to me coldly several times.”

He held back laughter and listened to my tearful complaint. Then he suddenly took my hand, and slapped it on his palm.

Gavin: “Then bully me back now.”

MC: “Gavin, have you ever thought about… what if we didn’t meet?”

He gave it some thought and nodded seriously.

Gavin: “Yes I have. If I wasn't there, would the girl get bullied? Would someone be looking out for her? I’ve also wondered if someone would fall in love with her or give her a love letter.... Would she like someone else? So, if I were to meet her again, I must hold onto her.”

He took my hand lightly, and kissed it preciously, his voice soft.

“And never let her go again.”

(The same hands that helped dress his wounds. CRYING.)

All this time Gavin had regretted not being able to give the letter to her in person, presumably with the fear of rejection from the one person he cared about. Even if Gavin hadn’t had a conversation with her or knew her very well, the interactions they have had together was enough for Gavin to form an opinion of her- a strong enough opinion that even he refuses to listen to MC’s ‘cousin’ (interactions like wanting to introduce himself in the library but MC dashes off LOL).

Wanting to protect her continuously from the students during the alleyway fight and waiting day and night for her also really does showcase his determination and the effectiveness of having a glimmer of hope from and for someone goes a long way, especially with a loyal man like Gavin.

Additionally, MC states that he was cold to her, which shows that even someone who claimed to be her cousin wouldn't melt Gavin’s heart with secondhand words. (That wall that he built up between him and MC of how he bats each question she asks with another question LOL.)

Even in front of Cousin MC, he wants to keep up that tough and unbreakable persona, the one that high school MC is more familiar with- until the very end when he finally has to come to the conclusion that MC is not going to see him. This therefore really does make him think that she didn't want to meet him. And in the storyline, he really did have to live like that, thinking that she thought of him just like how everyone did- until they met again.

But after all that Gavin had been through, he’s willing to cherish every moment he has with MC in the future. Not basing their relationship off of the failures, misunderstandings and regrets- but their hopes and dreams of a better future together.

“Before you… I lower all my defences.” -Gavin

#ITS 2 AM #ANALYSIS OH HOW IVE MISSED YOU #mlqc #mr love queens choice #love and producer #恋与制作人 #mlqc gavin #mlqc en #mlqc analysis

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firebrands · 3 years

Text

the square root of infinity | stevetony

2.7k, established relationship, first fight angst | on ao3 | for @maguna-stxrk

***

Tony finds out with his hands deep in JARVIS’ code. Former-JARVIS, actual-JARVIS, he hasn’t really decided on what to refer to the mess of numbers of letters that formed his former AI, and now, well—Vision, too. It’s all a mess, really, and Tony wanted something simple to do with his hands, minimal focus, low-risk.

He should have known better, really. Nothing about him, his work, his life, has ever been low-risk.

It’s a command from Steve with a privacy protocol. Search, identify, and surveil Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, also known as The Winter Soldier. Missing, found, and missing again as of six months ago. Tony frowns at the monitor. He knows he hasn’t read it wrong, but can’t believe it; he reads it again.

Somehow, in the span of time of Steve coming back from Washington, of them settling in together, he’d done this. He’d asked JARVIS to do this for him, and keep it from Tony.

Tony leans back against his chair. “FRI,” he says.

His new AI chirps to life. “Boss?”

“Gimme everything JARVIS found on this.”

“It’s on your phone now, boss.” In front of him, a hologram materializes as well, displaying hundreds of photos, grainy and filtered, and copies of reports on sightings. Tony stands up, takes a step back and frowns some more. He opens his mouth a few times, borne of his need to verbalize even without anyone listening; he’s angry. He’s more shocked than angry, but the anger is there, low and simmering.

Beneath it, though, is a grain of doubt: Why? Why did he keep it hidden? Especially now—after all the truth came spilling out of them, crystallizing into something Tony held dear. And after all Steve had said, about keeping secrets, about trust. He briefly considers asking FRIDAY to print it all out, just so he can throw the sheaf of paper in front of Steve and demand: what the fuck, but he’s better now, more mature. Or so he likes to tell himself.

So instead, he walks to the penthouse and finds Steve reading.

Tony clears his throat.

Steve looks up. “Hey,” he says, setting his book down. “You done working?”

Tony smiles, pained and tight. “So,” he says, sitting at the foot of the bed. “Bucky.”

Steve’s eyebrows meet, looking concerned. “What about him?”

Tony shuts his eyes and counts backward from five. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Steve inches closer to him and rests his hand on Tony’s knee. Tony doesn’t open his eyes.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Steve says very quietly.

Tony’s eyes fly open, the anger now boiling over. “Oh is that it?” He asks sarcastically. “So you decided to use JARVIS—without my permission, to look for him?”

Steve’s mouth works, and he looks genuinely shocked. “You said I could talk to JARVIS.”

“That’s not the point!” He pushes Steve’s hand off him and stands. “Why would you keep that a secret?”

“I—I didn’t,” Steve says haltingly. “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to know if JARVIS could find him, but I knew it was almost impossible anyway, so there was no real point—”

“If there was no point,” Tony says, voice lowering, “then why’d you do it?”

“Tony,” Steve stands now, too, tries to reach out and touch Tony’s elbow, to disentangle Tony’s arms that have crossed over his chest on their own volition. “He’s my best friend. I’m worried about him. I just thought it was something I should do myself.”

Tony nods, not really listening. His head is swimming with what he thinks could be actual reasons why Steve had kept this from him. A tangled mess of fear and insecurity, then shock at his ability to be aware of it. Is this maturity? He doesn’t like it much. Better if it stayed Steve’s fault—and it is Steve’s fault, it is. But maybe Tony doesn’t need to work himself up like this. But then again, Tony’s already worked up. “Stop,” Tony grinds out.

So Steve stops, a foot away from Tony, looking more scared than Tony’s ever seen him.

“I’m going to go.”

“Don’t.”

Tony looks up at Steve. He hadn’t even realized he’d looked away. Steve takes a deep breath, closes the space between them, and takes Tony’s hands in his.

Tony sighs.

Steve threads their fingers together, squeezes Tony’s palms. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Want to say more than one syllable, maybe?”

A joke? Now? Tony feels his frown deepen.

“No.”

“Is this a fight?”

Tony looks up at him. “A fight means you don’t think you should be sorry.”

“Now, hold on a second,” Steve says, a small frown beginning to form on his face. Barely perceptible, if you didn’t know the signs. “I already explained why—”

“And that’s supposed to make it okay?”

“Where is this coming from?” Steve asks, letting go of Tony’s hands, which means he’s mad too, which drives Tony insane.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“There’s no need to raise your tone—”

“Don’t fucking use your de-escalation tactics on me.” Tony hisses, turns on his heel, and walks out the door. He gives himself the satisfaction of slamming it shut.

***

The next few days are filled with small acts of penitence: a cup of coffee on the bedside table when Tony wakes, a sandwich in the workshop, a completed report for a day-old mishap. It’s on Thursday that Tony’s heart finally softens. Over nothing, really, just a small doodle on his desk. He realizes, in that moment, that of all his achievements, perhaps learning to understand Steve Rogers should rank highest. Right up there with being understood by him, too.

Tony’s lying in bed, reading a report on his tablet, when Steve peeks in.

“Hey.” He sounds tentative.

Tony sighs, sets his tablet aside, and takes off his glasses. “Well, come in.”

Steve’s barely able to hide his grin, and nearly bowls Tony over when he hugs him. “Hi,” Steve says, burying his nose against Tony’s neck.

“Hello to you too, you overgrown labrador,” Tony laughs, pushing Steve away a little lest he be crushed under all combined weight of supersoldier and three bowls of pasta that Clint prepared for dinner.

“I missed you,” Steve says, hugging Tony closer to him. He looks up at Tony, resting his chin right on Tony’s sternum. “Was that our first fight?”

Tony snorts. “Unlikely to be our last,” he says.

“Hey,” Steve chides, leaning up and brushing Tony’s nose with his. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. Anyway,” Tony leans closer, brushes their lips together. “Make it up to me.”

Steve arches an eyebrow.

“Don’t start,” Tony warns.

Steve huffs out a laugh, tips them over until they’re lying down, and makes it up to him.

***

As a man of science, it behooves Tony to conduct experiments and to test hypotheses.

First, identify the problem.

Second, conduct research.

Third, develop a hypothesis: follow if / then structure.

Fourth, test through experiments: ensure factors are varied one at a time.

Fifth and final, draw a conclusion.

Tony’s tapping the tip of a screwdriver against his bottom lip as he thinks, and then two strong arms wrap around his waist and just like that, the problem has identified itself.

(One frustrating blind spot in Tony’s life: relationships. Which isn’t to say he hasn’t tried to make sense of them, sped read through self-help books and trawled through Reddit. Unlike everything else, research pales in comparison to experience, and there’s only so much he can do to make sure this one precious thing in his life is perfect.)

“Busy?” Steve presses a small kiss on the back of Tony’s neck. Tony can barely suppress a shiver.

He wants to say, I was, until you showed up. It doesn’t just apply to this moment. That fact shouldn’t hurt.

Instead, Tony says: “Yeah, kinda.”

“Okay,” Steve says easily, pulling away. He comes back to press a quick kiss to Tony’s cheek. “See you later?”

“Yup,” Tony says, and okay. Maybe he needs to spend a day or two really figuring out who the problem is, here. (It’s him. He knows this. He’s always the problem.)

Two days later, Tony settles on having to review related literature. In this case, this means sitting alone in the workshop as he relives every moment when Steve was distracted. Was that a sign? In a brief moment of clarity, Tony asks: “Fri, am I crazy?”

“Signs point to no, boss. But I can pull up recent results on the search engines?”

“I’d rather not hear what the general public thinks, thanks,” Tony says, sighing. He rests his face in his hands. It’s not like he meant to think of this—what is wrong with his brain, that the intrusive thoughts come in the form of the few moments he’d asked Steve what was on his mind, only to be brushed off?

What did that mean?

Did it matter?

Step three: if that was a sign, then there was a problem.

If that wasn’t a sign, then there wasn’t a problem.

If Tony didn’t figure this out, then there would definitely be a problem.

This isn’t how a hypothesis is meant to sound. Tony’s a terrible scientist.

“Fri, call Bruce.”

“Tony?” Bruce’s voice is rough. He sounds annoyed.

“Hey, seven PhDs, how do I form a proper hypothesis?”

“Fuck you, Stark.” The line clicks off.

Tony turns his wrist, checks his watch. Three AM? Figures.

He stretches out his back. “Friday,” he says, standing up. “The search functions for Barnes.”

“On it, boss.”

“Atta girl.”

***

Try as Tony might—and he’s trying, which in itself feels like a failure, because Tony stark does or does not and there is no need to attempt—he feels like something has shifted between them, and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Maybe he’s just making it all up in his head. That’s the easy solution, isn’t it? And that’s usually the answer: start with the easiest answer and work your way up. He can already see Natasha rolling her eyes at him. Maybe the solution is to stop treating your relationship like it’s quantum theory.

Steve’s hand is on his lower back, steering him inside a restaurant. He thinks only of what Steve said, all those weeks ago: I had to do it myself.

Tony wants to argue, right this moment. But how can he? It’s awful that they can be so alike. The only reason he keeps his mouth shut is because he knows that Tony’s used that argument before. Maybe this is growth, to know when to back down from a fight. Or to avoid one totally.

Steve reaches over the table, brushes his fingers over Tony’s wrist. “You okay?”

There are a lot of answers to that. Tony settles on the truth. “Not really.”

Steve’s brow creases with worry. “What’s wrong?”

Again: an infinite multiverse of answers to answer a question that simple. With this, Tony does struggle for a moment, and the next words are much harder to say—they almost feel caught in his throat, like a lump of meat. “I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything, you know,” Steve says gently. So gentle, it almost breaks him; Tony doesn’t deserve this. Steve doesn’t deserve this.

“I know,” Tony says, and this is him lying through his teeth, and this is what he’s good at, and maybe this is why he’ll never know how relationships are. It’s a trust issue, probably. He doesn’t know if the issue is with Steve, or with himself. “Don’t worry about it.”

Tony tries harder, now: smiles more, eats with gusto. He knocks Steve’s thigh with his knee, looks up at him from under his lashes. This is what life is like for Tony Stark: it’s acting. He knows the approximations to get his point across. As their evening goes on, the small wrinkle on Steve’s forehead smooths out, and maybe Tony wishes he wasn’t so good at pretending.

Maybe he wishes that Steve read him better.

***

The moment of epiphany is often described as transcendental.

This one hits like a ton of bricks—literally, because Tony does know what that feels like, and the suit is shock proof, sure, but that shit still fucking hurts, and even in moments of epiphany, somehow he still manages to go off on a tangent. The point remains: Steve’s hand is on his hip, and they’re in bed, and epiphanies usually equate clarity, peace.

Tony freezes up.

“Tony?” Steve murmurs, sliding his hand up Tony’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, sitting up. “I know I’m being difficult.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Steve sits up beside him, rests his hand on Tony’s shoulder, and turns Tony to look at him. “Who said you were being difficult?”

“Me, I’m saying it,” Tony says. Panic is beginning to bubble in his belly, slowly rising up his throat. Typical of him to mistake a eureka moment with a panic attack. Par for the fucking course for Tony Stark. “I’m being difficult right now.”

“No you’re not,” Steve says, rubbing up and down his arms. “Tony. Look at me.”

Tony breathes out through his mouth, then in through his nose. Steve tips his chin up and meets his gaze.

“Here are the variables,” Tony breathes out, is afraid of what he’ll say next, his brain is fogged over and full of static. “I love you, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

Steve takes a deep breath, takes Tony’s face in his hands. “Here’s a constant,” he whispers, breath warm on Tony’s cheek. “I love you. I love you. You, Tony Stark. I love you.” He kisses Tony, hard and close lipped, more aggressive reminder than affection.

“Okay,” Tony says, because there’s a wild part of him that still thinks—there was a problem, there was a problem and if this is love, then what comes next? If this is constant, then what variable will arrive to change all of that?

Steve kisses Tony again, almost desperate, this time. “Is this about Bucky?” Tony sucks in a breath at the question, horrified at being discovered. Steve hums, then he runs one hand down Tony’s back, up his arm, down his side. A reminder of his presence. Tony is suddenly grateful for it.

“And if it is?” he murmurs.

“Tony,” and somehow, Steve sounds fond, which throws a wrench in this whole debacle, and deep in the recesses of Tony’s brain, rationality begins to take root. “He’s my best friend. You’re the love of my life.”

Tony breathes.

“Did you hear me? You. You’re the love of my life. Please don’t make me compare,” Steve huffs out a small laugh, and it warms Tony all over, like sunshine peeking through the clouds after a strong rain. “And maybe you don’t believe me just yet,” Steve touches their foreheads together, then rubs his nose against Tony’s, the affection plain and chaste. It makes Tony feel more loved than he’s ever felt in his life—not that there were many moments to compare against, but still.

“I feel a little crazy,” Tony says, finding it in himself to smile up at Steve.

“A little crazy in love?” Steve asks, grinning.

“I can’t believe you just made a Beyonce reference. In the middle of my panic attack.”

Steve bites his bottom lip, a poor attempt at stopping himself from laughing. Tony flicks his forehead. “Say it again,” Tony says, and his smile still feels a little wobbly, but it’s a step.

“Crazy in Love?” Steve asks, pulling Tony close and wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist.

It’s an odd angle, and eventually Steve shifts to lift Tony up onto his lap. “Ass,” Tony says. “You know what I meant.”

Steve smiles again, right before pressing a kiss to Tony’s shoulder. “Step one,” he says. “The problem is you’re afraid I don’t love you. Step two: find out how to show you that I do.” He pauses, and Tony feels breathless as he presses another kiss to Tony’s bare skin. “Step three. Hypothesis? If I show Tony I love him all the time, then eventually he’ll believe me.”

“Sounds like a shaky hypothesis,” Tony says, but his voice quivers a little as he says it. He can’t explain how he feels, other than warm in Steve’s embrace.

Steve tuts. “Step four, experimentation. Small gestures, date nights.” Steve rubs Tony’s back as he speaks, and stops to tilt Tony’s head up to face him. “Am I getting this right?”

Tony smiles. “I don’t know, what’s the conclusion?”

Steve wraps his arms around Tony’s waist once more. “You’re here. I’m here. I love you.” He leans up, brushes their lips together. “Is that enough?”

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #(well hello) (sometimes you just want to write something warm and familiar. i thought i'd forgotten how.)#things i write

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dadsbongos · 3 years

Text

Insert Coin - 3.e / Series Masterlist

“I’m glad to see you’re doing better than yesterday,” (Y/n) murmured, “I was really worried about you, you know?”

“You should be, I’m obviously the only person here that actually matters.”

“Don’t say that,” she leaned over, testing his temperature with a slight frown, “You’re a valued member of the group, Nagito.”

Nagito looked up at his forehead where (Y/n) was touching, a brighter blush on his face as he did so - making no move to remove her from his space, “Get your hands off me. I hate you. You’re vile.”

“Well,” (Y/n) giggled, admittedly flustered, pulling back, “I can’t touch your forehead all day, so how about,” she locked their hands together tenderly, even through the tenseness of Despair Disease - the moment felt somewhat serene with Nagito. Moments with Nagito usually felt that way - calm, safe, peaceful.

He was calming as much as he was conflicting. His past violence not forgotten but instead… understood - in a strange way.

He was dying, much faster than the others, before being accepted into Hope’s Peak and finding out he lost years worth of memory must’ve taken a toll on him. Who knows when he could just… drop dead? Besides, his brain was deteriorating and his cancer progressing and he’d already survived much longer than most - who knew what that was doing to his thought processes?

The very thought made (Y/n)’s heart drop. Any dead classmates were terrible, but a dead Nagito felt like… misery in another category. An agony unknown - an ache in the chest and twist of the guts just at the mention of the possibility.

“You’re such a bitch, I really can’t stand you,” Nagito pursed his lips, clearly displeased with the abuse he slung at his caretaker.

(Y/n) chuckled at the poor boy’s predicament, “Thank you. I think you’re very sweet as well and I enjoy your company.”

“I can see why, I’m certainly the best person here,” he looked to his lap, clenching his eyes at a sudden wooziness. He rubbed at his eyes, “I’m very alert and awake right now.”

“I’ll let you rest then,” the mediator stood as her lucky counterpart laid down, “Want Mikan to check on you when you wake up or should I?”

“Mikan.”

“Okay, bub, sleep well.”

“I won’t.”

Exiting to the hall, (Y/n) spotted Fuyuhiko standing out beside Akane’s room silently. His arms crossed tightly to his chest and staring straight ahead at the plexiglass display across the way. Well, not staring more like…

Zoning out.

Looking at the display while his mind looked elsewhere and, to be honest, (Y/n) was pretty sure she knew what it was about. Peko Pekoyama, the Ultimate Swordswoman, and apparently, Fuyuhiko’s closest friend. Possibly more.

“Hey, slackin’ off too, I see?” (Y/n) teased upon her approach.

Fuyuhiko jumped slightly at the unexpected voice before settling down and letting out a, “She wanted to cry alone so I stepped out. Still pretty beat to hell about Nekomaru.”

“I would be too,” (Y/n) empathized, settling herself on the wall as well, “They were super close so it’s not like we can expect her to be okay with all this, especially with this new disease.”

“I get how she feels, at least somewhat,” he muttered, “I wouldn’t want someone fuckin’ staring at me while I cry either. That shit’s weird,” as if suddenly remembering, Fuyuhiko looked up to the mediator, “What about him?”

Him being Nagito Komaeda - the unmentionable man in Fuyuhiko’s book.

“Better than before, thankfully, he gets dizzy fairly often and easily so it’s rare to find him up and standing out of bed. Sleeping a lot and Mikan hasn’t said anything about it so I choose to believe it isn’t a bad thing.”

“You know, I don’t like the guy, but, I wonder what’s got him so fucked up? Ibuki and Akane seem relatively fine other than gullibility and cowardice but it’s like he’s dying or some shit.”

“Don’t say that,” (Y/n) immediately cut in, shaking her head and softening her tone when she realized how sharp she’d spoken just seconds ago, “He’s not dying… he’ll be okay.”

Nodding slowly, Fuyuhiko seemed to sense the emotion in her voice - quickly catching onto the fact that the peacekeeper had grown attached to their resident lucky student. “He’s not dying but he’s sicklier than the others, that’s all I meant.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. But- " she reached out to any hope possibly available to her and took it fully in her grasp, pulling at hay straws that broke in the wind as she clung desperately to any reassurance she could, “Mikan said he’ll be fine so he will be.”

“Right,” Fuyuhiko didn’t agree, that much was obvious, but he also didn’t feel like upsetting the girl more than she already was, “He’ll be fine.”

It was after the sick had fallen asleep for the night that the trio of helpers met under the cover of nightfall in the dusty, musty, dank “breakroom” that clearly hadn’t been tended to in years. At least. Mikan had to perform a final round of check ups on the patients before retiring to bed, and nobody questioned it. She was the nurse, she was the one working the hardest. They didn’t want to pressure the poor girl into exhausting herself by hanging out with them when she really should’ve been in bed.

From caring for Fuyuhiko to the diseased, she must’ve been stressed to hell and letting her get well-deserved rest was the least they could all do.

“How’s Ibuki?”

Hajime quirked a brow at the question as well as the two faces aimed at him, “Why are you asking me?”

Fuyuhiko and (Y/n) looked between each other before the girl spoke up, “Well, I’m caring for Nagito,” she jabbed a thumb in the blond’s direction, “Fuyuhiko has Akane. I guess we kind of assumed you would be with Ibuki.”

“No,” he shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “I was going to but Mikan said it’d be best if she didn’t interact with too many people, since she’ll believe whatever they say. I’ve mostly been following Mikan around honestly, holding things and writing things down for her.”

“Aww,” the girl of the group cooed, “You’re like a little nurse’s assistant, that’s kinda sweet. I never knew you were such a gentleman, Hajime.”

“It’s not much, actually,” Hajime waved off, hoping to end the teasing while it was early, “Mikan is still the one doing most of it.”

“Even so, it’s nice to help.”

Fuyuhiko pursed his lips, running a hand over his buzzcut, feeling the tickle of his short hair against his skin, “I wonder how the others are doing,” before either part could suggest it, he continued, “Not that I’m going down to the lobby, they’re all probably asleep by now anyway.”

“I bet they’re fine,” Hajime nodded, mostly to himself, “Sonia’s there. She’s usually pretty good at keeping everyone in check.”

“Even so, I can’t help but worry,” (Y/n) sided with Fuyuhiko, “When we’re all split up like this… there’s no telling what could happen. I think it’s what Monokuma planned for, when we’re divided we’re weaker - it’s what he wants.”

“We shouldn’t think that way,” Fuyuhiko sighed, pushing himself up from his seat, “I don’t want to think about what could happen,” he gave a small wave over his shoulder as he left the pair, “G’night, bastards.”

“Goodnight,” came the pair’s reply.

After a beat of silence, (Y/n) looked to Hajime, “I should get back to Nagito, he does this weird thing where before I leave, he wakes up to tell me about all the clones in the room.”

“Right, and I’ll…” Hajime paused, feeling a wave of uselessness crash over him, “go to sleep, I guess.”

“Hey, good rest is the first step to progress. Don’t pressure yourself into doing more than you know you can, that’ll only make things worse, you know?”

“I know,” he sighed in defeat.

“Good, then I'll see you tomorrow,” (Y/n) nodded before stalking off to Nagito’s room.

As she opened the door, she spotted Mikan standing over the lethargic boy. Murmurs falling from her lips as she brushed her fingers over Nagito’s pale, flushed cheeks.

“Mikan, are you okay?”

The nurse suddenly stopped, pulling back and turning to the other girl, a sickeningly sweet smile playing at her lips, “I’m fine, (Y/n). Just fine.”

(Y/n) watched the nurse leave, eyes following her figure as she went before going to take her previous spot at Nagito’s bedside. He looked so on-edge even in his dreams, brows furrowed tightly and fingers gripping tight at the bedsheets in a white-knuckle grip. She hated to leave him like this, she really did… but Monokuma’s ridiculous rules prevented her from staying the night.

“Goodnight,” she whispered with a small smile, knowing he wouldn’t hear her.

It was sad, she wished she could do more for Nagito. More for the group.

No, if she started thinking like that then it’d only be a burden to the rest of her class.

Closing Nagito’s door, (Y/n) looked upon the identifying nameplate before hesitantly leaving to her cottage just as Hajime and Fuyuhiko had.

#insert coin #komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #sdr2 x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 reader insert #nagito komaeda x reader

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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Covenant: Study Habits

Pogue Parry x Reader

Word Count: 2,095

Summary: You are stressing about finals and need to study. When Pogue graciously volunteers to be your study buddy, you don’t refuse the offer.

Silence and solitude, you decided, were your ideal conditions for studying for finals. Spencer Academy was a fairly serious institution given its status as a prep school, but the library and various common areas tended to transform into social scenes, especially during this point in the semester. As much as you enjoyed the chatter and laughs, you really needed to study in order to pass your physics final and make the honor roll.

At first you tried moving your studying to your dorm, which was definitely quieter, but it didn’t exactly give off study vibes either. It was way too easy to take a nap or raid your snack stash or eavesdrop on conversations that were happening in the hallway.

You looked and looked for a good spot and you finally found it in the discovery of the school’s shop classroom. Not many students at Spencer took wood or metal shop that you were aware of and you were a little surprised those classes were offered at all. The room itself was tucked away in a dim basement that shared space with random storage rooms and an unused bomb shelter, a relic leftover from the 1940s.

The day you found it was also the day you found out that the room’s door wasn’t locked by the teacher, which wasn’t good from a security standpoint, but made entering very easy for you whenever you dropped by after hours to study.

Being a shop classroom, it was mostly open space and machinery, not unlike a garage situation. You were extra careful not to disturb any of the projects-in-progress, even though some of them looked really cool, and avoided all of the tools, most of which you couldn’t name much less identify.

But there were a couple of waist high counter tables along one wall so you could sit down. The height was just right where you could alternate between sitting on a stool and standing on your feet which was honestly better for your circulation. Most importantly, it was abandoned at this time of night and that meant no distractions.

The sneaking around continued for a couple of days until your anxiety had had enough, prompting you to find out the teacher’s information so that you could email them and ask formal permission to use the room when school wasn’t in session. Mr. Clarke seemed happy enough to let you use it and you decided you liked him even though you had never met in person.

It wasn’t even until the second week of studying down there that you finally saw someone other than yourself. You had just finished dinner and made the trek from the dorms to the shop room when you noticed them. A radio played softly in the distance but as you got closer and closer to your spot, you figured out that it was coming from the room.

You paused just outside the door and debated whether you should still go in or not; you really needed to get through some practice problems, but would you still be as productive if someone else was in there? You really should do these problems. Besides, maybe the other person would leave soon.

The metal handle clicked as you opened the door.

A small boombox was blaring some Green Day out of its speakers and figure in a black tee sat next to it fiddling with a hand drill.

Wanting to get his attention before the drill started up you cleared your throat loudly.

Beautiful hazel eyes locked onto you immediately and you felt a little breathless. That was before he turned fully around and you were better able to appreciate his toned chest and arms through the black fabric of his shirt, small barely detectable sawdust particles attached themselves to his jeans.

“Hey there,” he greeted with a raised hand.

Of all people to run into you couldn’t believe that it was Pogue Parry, one of, and in your opinion, the student body’s top eye candies. Dazzled, all you managed was a timid wave back.

He cocked his head, his shaggy hair falling slightly to the side. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Come on, Y/N. Get it together and answer the boy.

“Actually, we have—”

“Physics together,” he finished with a smile. “I know. I meant down here in the shop.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. He recognized you! A Son of Ipswich noticed that you were in a class with him and you were so excited that you managed to ignore the fact that you had misunderstood him. “You’re right about that. I’ve only been coming here for, like, a week. I got permission to study here.”

“Cool. Mr. Clarke is a sweetheart so I’m not surprised.”

Trying to get back on track you asked, “How long do you think you’ll be working on that?”

Both of you looked at the drill.

“You probably want it quiet, huh? I can stop for today, this is just a side project I’m doing anyway, it’s gonna be a tv stand when it’s done. Definitely not as important as a final.”

As much as you felt bad for interrupting him and essentially taking over his spot, you took him up on his offer. He was now the hottest and kindest classmate in your mind. You dropped you backpack on the floor and spread your papers across the countertop trying your best to sneak peeks at Pogue where he was cleaning up a few feet away.

When he finished, he walked over. “What class are you studying for?”

“Physics.”

“No way!” He pulled up a stool and straddled it opposite of you.

It made you nervous to have him watch you write and when he pointed out a mistake you made, you felt like crawling into a hole. The eraser left behind eraser shavings as you corrected the error.

“Hey, wanna work together?” he asked either not noticing your embarrassment or choosing to ignore it.

“Sure,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Cool.”

He wasted no time and grabbed his own copy of the packet, clicking open a pen, ready to go.

You moved to the next problem and read it out loud.

“A block weighing 200 N is pushed along a surface. If it takes 80 N to get the block moving and 40 N to keep the block moving at a constant velocity, what are the coefficients of friction μs and μk?”

Pogue hunched over, quickly working it out when he noticed you sitting still, rubbing the end of your pencil against your mouth. Scooching over to your side of the counter he showed you his work and walked you through his steps.

“Wow, you’re really good at this.”

He laughed off the compliment. “Nah, I promise you I’m a pretty stupid student.”

“But you finished this problem in under a minute,” you insisted. “Meanwhile, I would’ve been stuck for hours and still have gotten it wrong.”

He stared at you and even though you couldn’t get a good read on him, it was too easy to get lost in his eyes. Eventually, he spoke.

“I don’t want to throw off your groove of anything, but maybe we can study together.”

Was this a dream? Because an invitation like that only happened in your fantasies.

“But I don’t know how that benefits you—you seem to a good handle on it already,” you admitted.

“As I told you, stupid student. Besides, my study habits are non-existent so maybe some of yours will rub off.”

You beamed at him, easily convinced. “Well then let’s go over the first problem again because I’m still confused...”

Every night for the next seven days Pogue met you in the basement and walked with you to the classroom for your study session. Despite not having a high opinion towards his academic abilities, he was very patient and effective tutor/partner.

“Wait, remember to multiply the variables in the parenthesis before subtracting it from the total. PEMAS is your friend Y/N.”

He was also very easy to talk to. Whenever he talked about his bike or swim regimen, two things you knew nothing about, he took the time to put it into words you understood without making you feel like an idiot. And when you were feeling chatty, he would actively take an interest in what you had to say.

“Hunger pains after a swim workout are the worst, especially after long swims where your aerobic systems are gassed. It feels like you’re one stomach growl away from wasting away.”

“Oh, speaking of food, I found a granola recipe. I don’t know who decide to mix coconut and cranberries with granola, but that palate combination amazing. I’ll bring you some if it turns out alright.”

“You’d better save me some then, even if it’s not to your ridiculously high standards. I can feed some to the boys, too.”

Time flew by and it didn’t feel like the studying had gone on for a whole week. Each session seemed to pass faster as you got to know him better, to see the him that didn’t have to be filtered for the public eye. You liked this side of him even better than what you have seen of him in class and in the halls.

But all things come to an end. On the last session before the final, you guys finally finished the last question in the review packet with a grateful exhale.

“You sir, are a physics godsend. I can’t believe we’re done with the whole review guide.”

“I hope the final isn’t as long as the guide is. He must’ve stuck every problem we did during the semester in this thing,” he complained.

“I really hope not,” you groaned. Because if it was, there was no way you would finished within the allotted one-hour period.

“But, I have a feeling you’re going to crush the exam. Just try your best not the set the curve too high, for the rest of our sakes.”

You playfully shoved him for the last part of his comment. Silence stretched on and you realized that this was the last time you guys were scheduled to study together. Fast on the heels of that thought was another: you didn’t want to leave. By the way he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, you hoped that meant he was reluctant as well.

“So…” he trailed off and you waited with bated breath. “Guess we should pack up, it’s almost nine.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment at his words. “Yeah, I guess.”

For a second, you were tempted to ask him out, or at least see if he wanted to hang out as friends, but you decided against it. He was the type that would’ve spoken up if he were interested. Best just to act dignified and be thankful that he bothered helping you in the first place.

You were steps away from walking out the door when he stopped you by grabbing your hand.

“Actually, what I meant to ask is if you want to get a bite to eat after the test tomorrow. Is that weird?”

Your pulse fluttered in obvious joy.

“You mean like a date?” you breathed.

“Yeah. You’re a pretty cool, Y/N, and I’d be sad if this is the last time we hang out.”

“I would love to,” you assured him with a huge smile on your face.

He reached to slowly envelope you in a hug, and even if the angle was a little awkward due to the backpacks being in the way, you automatically hugged back. You were thrilled to discover that he smelled like an exotic mix of leather and, dare you say, magic.

You were even more thrilled when he walked you back to the dorms like the sweet boy you had observed him to be over the past week. Luckily there weren’t any people loitering out in the hallway because if word got out that a Son of Ipswich had walked you to your room, the whole school would know by morning and you were enjoying the moment far too much to have to worry about that.

“Good luck tomorrow. See you on the flip side,” he said in parting.

That night you laid in bed but felt like you were on cloud nine. In less than twenty-four hours, you would be done with physics for the semester and have had a date with Pogue Parry. Pogue Parry! You snuggled into your pillow and swore his scent still lingered freshly in your nose.

_______________

I was super inspired yesterday and wrote this. Good luck to everyone that’s prepping for final exams! Thanks for reading.

#the covenant #pogue parry #pogue parry x reader #imagines

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writeseasonally · 4 years

Text

Just My Type (Fred Weasley)

Summary: Wake, shower, eat, and study, that was (Y/n)’s weekly morning routine. She always studies before the start of class and tries her hardest to avoid all kinds of distractions. But when your best friends are the Weasley twins, it’s a lot harder than it sounds. Fred decides to disrupt her morning routine one time with words that leave (Y/n) all red and flustered.

Prompt(s): “Well you’re fun.” “And you’re annoying.”

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!reader

Warning(s): none

Word(s) : 1.5k

A/N: This is for @im-a-writer-right‘s 2k Followers Writing Challenge (congratulations again on 2k Ria! Well deserved 💖). This isn’t the first time I’ve written for the Harry Potter fandom, but this is the first I’m posting, so there may be some possible errors when it comes to characterization and I apologize in advance for that; While editing, I also noticed that I used “as if” quite often so...yeah, but with that being said, you may now proceed reading :)

[ please note that english isn’t my first language ]

Noise filled the Great Hall as the students' voices merged as one because of how they talked with each other continuously. It's a wonder as to how they managed to understand what the other was talking about, considering the Great Hall was filled with students who either enjoyed their breakfast while conversing with their friends or were trying their hardest to do a last-minute study before their first subject begins.

Sat on the end of the Ravenclaw table was (Y/n), who was alone. All the other Ravenclaws were with their friend groups; honestly, (Y/n) wished she could do the same, but with the coming OWLs, and with the essays she wanted to revise last minute, she was stuck on the furthest corner of the table with books surrounding her instead of her friends.

Letting out a frustrated groan, (Y/n) thought of how much time she wasted just to rapidly skim the book that didn't even give her much additional information. She closed the book and let out a shriek as a response when she saw a grinning face, specifically, Fred Weasley's grinning face.

"What're you doing sitting all alone here, (Y/n)?" he asked, pulling his face away and grabbing one of the books she previously read. He looked at the book cover and opened a random page before closing it abruptly, a bored look on his face. "I get that you're a Ravenclaw and all but you still need to have at least a little bit of fun."

"Sorry Weasley, but unlike you, I actually would like to make a good impression for the teachers this year," (Y/n) retorted, she paused to look at Fred before continuing. "Though, it clearly doesn't help with potions since Snape knows I associate with you Gryffindor lot, but eh, I don't mind. It’s not like anyone can actually appease him."

Fred grinned and swung an arm around her, "Well, Snape's clearly a greasy git of a teacher who shows his distaste towards anything other than the Slytherins. So I would've taken deep offense if you implied that being friends with us lovely and absolutely charming Gryffindors instead of those Slytherins was a mistake you've done."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, "There we are again, Weasley. You and your overdramatic self making me feel guilty for saying something I meant differently." Fred's grin grew larger at the statement, though it dialed down a little when (Y/n) removed his arm which was wrapped around her. She smiled at him one last time before burying herself in her textbooks again.

Letting out a small sigh, Fred tried to eavesdrop on what the other Ravenclaws near them were talking about. His grin returning for the umpteenth time when the words he was hearing started making sense.

"Come on Romina, you gotta tell us what your type is!" one Ravenclaw exclaimed. She, along with two other Ravenclaws, looked at a black-haired girl who looked unsure in answering the question. Though, not even a second after, the look of uncertainty immediately disappeared and was replaced by an odd confidence.

"First off, I'd like him to be a Gryffindor, considering as everyone in this house's too preoccupied with studying, it'll be fun to have someone who doesn't worry as much around." the girl explained, a smile on her face. "Especially if it's one of the Weasley twins, then that would be wonderful." She looked around and saw him staring, making her look away with an embarrassed smile. Fred too looked away, satisfied with what he's just heard. He didn't know some Ravenclaws acted like that, he thought all Ravenclaws were too busy burying themselves in their books to even care about those kinds of things; he assumed that all Ravenclaws were like (Y/n). He was proven otherwise.

"Not all Ravenclaws bury their noses in their books, you know," (Y/n) said from beside him as if she's just read his mind. She closed the book she was reading. "I just happen to be very conscious of my grades."

"Why couldn't have I befriended that girl over there? She's clearly more interesting and more interested," he asked, face being playfully serious.

(Y/n) snorted and replied, "Please, that girl over there's too possessive of what she thinks is hers. I'm surprised she hasn't yet declared her love for you, Weasley."

"Well, even if she did, I wouldn't be at all interested. She isn't my type, and I've already got my eyes for someone else," he stated proudly, his tone as if he's just won the Quidditch cup single-handedly.

(Y/n) looked at him with a raised brow. Curiousity about what he meant by 'his type' consumed her mind. "Oh? Then may I know what your 'type' is, Weasley?" she asked, emphasizing the word type.

Fred stared at her for a moment, amusement in his eyes. He pondered on whether answering her question seriously or if he should be the opposite of subtle.

Considering he's Fred Weasley, he decided to go with the obvious choice.

"Well (L/n), that's a tad bit too personal, don't you think? But if you must," he sighed heavily, as if (Y/n) was forcing him to share what his 'type' was.

She on the other hand tried to hide her genuine curiosity with an annoyed expression, though Fred can easily see right through her.

"First of all, she's got to be able to play Quidditch decently, making George and I constantly target her with a bludger since we both know she can easily swerve past it. She's also got to be a chaser for her house team, if I'm being more specific." Fred started rubbing his chin, making him look like he was thinking of something very deeply, "She's got to have (h/l), (h/c) hair with matching (e/c) eyes. Also, she's a prefect who'll obviously be head girl in her seventh year; she's always got her nose buried in a book as she claims that having fun is a last choice because she'd rather study, but we both know it's a lie. She's also able to be courageous at times, not physically, but implying it with the use of her wits." he paused for a second, holding on to (Y/n)'s eyes as her face suddenly felt hot. He smiled, "Pretty sure Granger's following her footsteps. But most importantly, she's got to be the person I'm talking to right now, whose face is almost as the same shade as my hair, and is the person I'm asking to be my girlfriend."

(Y/n) stared at him for a few more seconds, mind processing the words that just left his lips: 'the person I'm asking to be my girlfriend'. Um, what?

“What– who– me– why?” (Y/n) spluttered, completely flustered.

Fred only rolled his eyes teasingly at the question. He thought that his declaration was enough for her, but he did catch her off guard so he understood that she was still processing his words. But instead of repeating his essay-worthy declaration, he opted to use just simpler words that he knew would get a rise out of her, “Well, you’re fun.”

“And you’re annoying!” She immediately responded without a second thought. This emitted a laugh from Fred because her response was all too sudden as if she programmed herself to say those words every time he says she’s fun (and now that he thought about it, maybe she actually did. He could vividly recall telling her she was fun during first-year and her responding with the same three words. Huh).

(Y/n) zipped her mouth shut, she still felt flustered as she watched Fred’s amusement to her reaction, he was clearly entertained. Perhaps he achieved his goal after all: to distract her from her studying and entertain himself. She groaned on the inside, thinking of a way to compose herself. And she did just that

She closed her eyes for a second to calm her racing heart as she took in an intake of breath before releasing it. (Y/n) hoped that it would help her understand his previous words easier. And somehow, it worked.

When (Y/n) finally composed herself and got her confidence back, she looked at Fred with a small smile, her cheeks still burning hot, "Well, Freddie, you're lucky that you're just my type." She kissed his cheek before grabbing all of the textbooks in front of her, which were already arranged, before heading off to her first class.

George was watching everything that happened between Fred and (Y/n) from where he sat on the Gryffindor table. And when he saw (Y/n) plant a kiss on his brother’s cheek before scurrying off with a small, shy smile, he took this as his cue to finally near his brother and ask him about what happened. And tease him afterward of course.

"So was that a yes or a no?" asked George as he made himself comfortable on the empty space beside Fred. He looked at his twin expectantly, who didn't return his gaze, rather, he continued staring at the Ravenclaw's figure until she exited the Great Hall; mischief was evident in George's eyes as he gave his brother a teasing grin, "Merlin, you are already smitten."

×××

gifs are made by yours truly unless stated otherwise

posted: 08-01-20

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the-tragic-hero-and-you · 4 years

Note

ngl i need more angst with y/n x dark,,

Oh goodness. What have I done?

little bit of angst topped with domination. Enjoy~!

You always prefered to park the barrel, or ‘H.Q.’ near the beach, especially when summer was rolling around. Sure, there were more people around at the time, but there was something so satisfying about crawling out of the hot van and stepping out to the cool ocean breeze that gently blew in your face. Mark himself never complained, though you knew he prefered the Barrel to be parked someplace less public. You understood why, but it was your living space, so you could park it wherever you pleased and he had no say in it.

The sun was just barely peeking over the waves of the ocean before you, the day winding down to an end, crowds going home, nothing but the sounds of the waves. Your companion, Mark, had already taken his leave for a while. He was excellent in reading you, knowing when you wanted some space away from everyone else and enjoy your solitude. It was rather refreshing to have someone who respected that about you. You had no idea where he wondered off to, but you really didn’t care at the moment. He always found his way back the very next day anyways.

You sat yourself in the van door way, legs dangling off the edge as you looked out over the rather lovely scene, a blanket wrapped around you to stay warm as the nights here get a little cold. Something about the wind that caressed your cheeks had a bit of a bite to it, nearly winter like. You instantly tensed up as you felt someone come up from behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pull you flush against his body. You did your best not to panic as he rested his chin on your shoulder, the chill of his touch seeped through the the fabric of the blanket and your clothes, leaving you shivering against his body.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

His voice was gentle, in a sense. It’s the kind of tone he’s use to lower your defenses, make it seem like you could trust that he wouldn’t lash out at any moment. Recalling all those times didn’t help you relax one bit, if anything you curled up a little more into yourself, waiting for any form of impact from him. He seemed to notice your discomfort, letting out an amused chuckle as he tightened his hold around you, nuzzling a little more against your shoulder in a tender manner. You could have been mistaken, but this was feeling a little more like an embrace than attempting to squeeze all the air from your body.

“There’s no need for you to worry.” He muttered, listing his head from your shoulder and withdrew one of his hands from your waist to caress his fingertips through your hair. “I just wanted to enjoy this view with you is all, just the two of us now that we finally have time to be alone.” Despite how on edge you were about the situation you were in, you couldn’t lie to yourself about how wished this was all it was. No violent surprises or broken down mentality from him, just this. It felt like old times honestly.

You decided to take a risk.

Taking in a deep breath you closed your eyes, trying to forget the cold sensation that brought you great discomfort and focused more of the fact that he was holding you like he did in the old days, leaning yourself a little more against the demon of a man. This seemed to result in a change of atmosphere. You couldn’t describe it, but it felt like a form of calm, the echos of screaming and voices seemed to go quiet for a moment as you did this. Maybe you reached to the part of him that was long dead, or maybe he was just playing alone to get you on his side. Whatever the reason, there was no doubt that you didn’t regret your action as the man cradled you dearly, his head resting on yours in such a tender embrace. Anyone who saw this would assume the two of you were lovers.

“. . . I miss you.” He whispered in a near normal tone, hardly any distorted voice or mockery there of. You swore for a moment he sounded like how Damien would speak those words. Hearing this nearly made you melt in his arms, eyes still closed as you imagined that it was your old friend, a past flame that never went away. Before you knew it, you could feel his lips upon yours, your heart skipping a beat as he stole a gentle kiss from you. It was the only warmth that you could feel from him and you embraced it completely, your body relaxing in his arms as he deepened the kiss even more. You lost yourself, completely forgetting where you were, what all unfolded, and what he was now. All that mattered was the sensation of his fingertips along your body and the taste of his lips, all making the world you were tapped in fade away from your mind.

Unfortunately, with all wonderful moments, they end.

Eventually he pulls away, his brow against yours as he continues to cradle you close against his body. You swore you could hear his voice break a little as he spoke. “It’s not fair. . . We were suppose to be like this, not you with him. . . One day, you will be mine. And I will enjoy watching him bleed as I do so.” Just like that, Damien was gone from you. The cold returning just as quickly as it left. You opened your just a little to look up at him, missing your chance to look into the eyes of someone you’ve missed dearly. This broke your heart gazing up at the monster he was forced to become. He seemed to sense the growing pain in your chest as he smirked, trailing his thumb along your bottom lip. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.” He hummed, “You will learn to love me eventually. Even if it means have to break you first, and we have plenty of time for that~.”

Just then you could hear Mark from the distance, calling out to you with ‘good news’. The demon clearly was not fond of this interruption, sneering as he looked away from you and towards the obnoxious sound of the man he loathed greatly. “How obnoxious. . .” He hissed under his breath, his attention returning towards you once more. “Guess we’ll have to continue this some other time. I hope you’ll be as anxious and willing. Submission truly suits you.”

Before you knew it, you were alone, left sitting in the barrel as you were before his sudden intrusion. Bringing your knees up to your chest you held onto yourself, your mind racing from his words. More so still feeling his hands and lips on you as though he was still there. You were confused. You locked up so badly, caved into his advance just as easily. It as almost as if you were no longer in control of yourself.

You tried to act like nothing was wrong the moment Mark walked up, the man beaming as he offered you your meal. not once did he notice how troubled you truly were, how terrified you became as you pondered what Dark had in store for you the next time the both of you meet once more.

Mark was starting to rub off on you with how good you had become at acting. . .

#short story #Darkiplier #darkiplier x y/n

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aiorevelations · 3 years

Text

A Number, Not a Name: Part 19

Here’s another chapter for you all! Enjoy!

1 month earlier:

Milena stared blankly ahead. She took another sip of her coffee, trying to wake herself up. The last few weeks had seemed like a blur. All she had wanted were answers. She never could have envisioned the path it would set her on. Some days she didn’t have a doubt in her mind about the choice she’d made. Other days she’d question everything except her love for chess and cream brûlée. Everything had been much simpler before. Her life was set. At least that’s what she’d thought. She’d continue to run her father’s company. Eventually, take over for him. Most likely marry Lorenzo.

If there was anything she’d learned it was that nothing is certain. Inside she felt numb. Empty. The light had gone out of her eyes. It took her a moment to recognize the man who sat in the chair in front of her.

“Loren,” she said flatly.

“Lena” he looked down at his hands. “It’s been a while. You haven’t returned any of my calls.”

“I know.” It was clear things were awkward. She stared down at her mug, trying to avoid his eyes.

Lorenzo continued, his voice shaky. “I…I handled things badly earlier. What I said about you having to move on from your father. I was callous. I didn’t realize how much pain you were in. I’m sorry.”

Milena held up her hand. “Lorenzo…we each didn’t handle the situation as well as we could have.

Lorenzo took her hand in his. “I miss you. I’ve tried to give you space these past few weeks. But it seems every day we’re drawing further and further apart.”

“Lorenzo. You’ve been amazing to me. Everything a girl could dream of” she swallowed hard. “But right now I can’t…” she trailed off. Deep down she knew what she had to do. Though somehow she hadn’t been able to let go. Lorenzo was her only link to her life before. A life she was still struggling to say goodbye to.

Lorenzo found himself getting more nervous by the second as he had a feeling he knew what was coming. “Can’t what?”

Milena sniffed “Can’t be with you. I have some things I need to sort out. Things that need my full attention. I don’t know if I’ll ever…” she took a breath, “but I know it’s something I have to do.”

“I’m sure whatever it is we can take it on together.”

Lorenzo brought his other hand to Milena’s face. His eyes were large and luminous, shimmering with unshed tears. He gently stroked her cheek; her skin was smooth as silk.

Milena’s eyes fell to his lips; longing seized her—how wonderful his lips would taste, it had been so long since they’d been pressed against her own—Her eyes looked up at him—she was drawn closer—closer.

Using all her strength, she resisted the urge. In a moment, all other feelings receded as all her attention was focused on fighting her overwhelming waves of emotion. “No, no.” She shook her head. “This is something I have to do…alone. Trust me it’s better this way.”

“Trust you?”

“Yeah…”

“Milena...a few months ago we were talking about our future…possibly marriage, children.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you doing this?” His voice started to rise, the desperation evident.

She matched his tone. Her world had already crumbled, it didn’t much matter she figured if her relationship with Lorenzo did as well. “I already told you.”

“Yeah ‘it’s something I have to do.’ But that’s not an answer. It’s not good enough for me. We’ve been together for over two years now and you expect me to just sit back and let you throw it away!”

The cafe quieted down as other customers began to stare in their direction. Milena disregarded their curious glances.

“I’m not throwing anything away! You don’t think this is hard for me. I’ve thought about this. Gone over it a thousand times in my head. I’m not the same person I was. You deserve someone who’s not held back by the past. Who’s hopeful and optimistic. I don’t know…someone who isn’t nearly as messed up as I am. Someone who will love you completely.”

“I thought that was you,” he said sadly.

Milena pulled her hand back from Lorenzo’s and said softly, “It was.”

…..

3 months earlier:

Blackgaard knocked on the carved door of the brick house. Manicured bushes lined the outside of the house. The streets of Bulin’s Nakhar or lower district were almost empty at that time of night. He was sure though that she’d be awake. The door opened. A petite woman came into view. Her hair was raven black with a few streaks of gray, her eyes were dark amber, and she wore a clinging silk dress. For Regis, it was no surprise that she was able to enchant and subdue the most powerful of men with just one glance. Learn their deepest secrets with only a caress.

“Maria, you look as wonderful as ever.” Blackgaard extended his arms toward her.

She leaned against the doorway. Her eyes focused on the sharply dressed man before her. “Regis darling so good to see you.” The two shared an embrace.

“You as well.” Blackgaard offered a smile.

“Please come in,” she pushed the door open wider, “it’s a bit chilly this evening.”

Regis entered the parlor. The warmth of the room felt especially revitalizing after the brisk air of the outdoors. Plush wool carpet greeted his feet and the pleasant scent of candy corn met him from the candles burning throughout the room.

Maria closed the door behind them. “I was so sorry to hear of Professor M’s passing. You have my deepest condolences.”

“Thank you.”

“I actually had been meaning to pay a visit to my old friend…and you of course. But my work unfortunately has kept me very busy.” She motioned to the chairs by the fireplace.

The long-time acquaintances sat across from one another. “No need to apologize my dear. In fact, it is precisely your work that is one of my main reasons for coming here.”

Maria crossed her legs. “And here I was thinking you came by to say hello.”

“Have you ever stopped by an old friend’s house just to say hello?” Regis countered.

She let out a small laugh. “Same old Regis. You could always find a way to get out of everything.”

“Why thank you. Unfortunately, pure cunning and cleverness don’t provide much in the way of financial support.”

Maria held up her hand. “Let me guess you need a new backer. Someone who has enough ambition to invest in such uncharted research yet who isn’t nearly as cunning or perceptive as you. Someone you can easily make your puppet…and pull their strings so to speak.”

Blackgaard's eyes gleamed with admiration. “You truly are something, Maria. You always knew me so well.”

Maria leaned closer to Regis, closing the space between them. “As it happens I know just the man. One of my recent shall we say ‘clients.’ Not only does he have enough ambition for three men, but he also is actively plotting to achieve his goals. He was even behind the assignation of one of this country’s most prominent and powerful citizens…Norvan Ohanyan.”

Blackgaard’s eyes widened at the sound of Norvan’s name. He’d heard word of his cousin’s untimely demise in what apparently was a car accident, though it was soon widely reported that it was not just an accident. However, there were still no leads as to who was behind it. A smirk spread across his face. Fitting that his cousin would meet such a brutal end. If anyone deserved one it was him, especially considering the way he had looked down upon him. Regarded him as nothing more than dirt.

Now the joke was on him. Who was nothing but dust at that moment? What he wouldn’t give to see the look on Norvan’s face if he found out his demise would ensure his “revolting” cousin’s triumph. “I’m intrigued. Who is this person?”

“Davit Dalmar.” Maria coolly replied. A devilish grin spread across her. “I have to say though if I was in your shoes I’d do the same. Manipulating such a pompous blowhard…I can’t think of anything more enjoyable.”

“Yes, what could be better.” A sly smile slowly curled his lips. Dalmar was his.

…..

Present-day:

The metal door opened, sending shafts of light flickering through the room. Tasha’s eyes met those of Elias. “Get up,” he roughly grabbed her arm and began pulling her up to her feet.

“Let go of me. I can stand on my own.” Tasha gave him a defiant look.

Elias glared at her, face reddening with anger. He pulled her closer to him and threateningly whispered in her ear. “If I didn’t have to keep you ‘intact’ you’d regret that.” He scowled and tightened his grip on her arm.

Tasha didn’t react but kept his gaze. “Go ahead,” she smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”

A voice came from the doorway. “What part of my instructions didn’t you understand?”

“Oh, I understood them completely. This one can’t control her mouth.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you won’t have to deal with her for much longer then.”

He let go of Tasha’s arm and backed away. Red marks, from where his fingers had been, lingered on her skin. As he stepped out of the room he uttered several crude words in Krudian.

“Come to say hello again?” Tasha asked her patience all but worn out.

Milena’s shadowy form came into view. “I thought you’d like a little time with your partner or whoever he is.”

“And then what next? What happens to us?” Tasha boldly asked, wanting to know as much as possible.

“You know that’s not up to me,” Milena snarkily replied.

“Then what is up to you? How did you even find out about us?”

Tasha hated having to rely on this woman for information. But she was out of options. Anything would be helpful to learn, perhaps provide her with a clue or idea about how to escape this predicament. Truth was she couldn’t mess things up more than they already were.

“If you’re thinking that you blew your cover, you didn’t. I knew about you before you even set foot here. My advice, the agency might want to think about who exactly they choose as their contacts. A person having a family may not be the best thing” She pulled out her gun from its holster and spun it around her finger. “As for what’s up to me. The future of this country. My sanity.”

“I didn't realize becoming a lawless vigilante was the only way to accomplish those things.”

“You know what, I’m done with this.” Milena stared down Tasha. “I can’t believe you have the audacity to question my actions. Tell that to yourself. You think you’re making a better world when in actuality you’re running around doing your government’s bidding. A government that can’t help but stick its nose in everyone’s affairs, tell other nations how to run things, and thinks it’s helping.” She scoffed. “Your government intelligence agencies have supported the assassinations of several world leaders. So don’t stand there and act like everything they’ve done has been above board while trying to give me a lecture.”

A moment passed without either one saying anything. The silence was deathly cold. Tasha knew any further reasoning with Milena was futile, she’d rather save her breath. Milena spoke. “So do you want to see your partner or not?”

…..

Every passing second was torture for Jason. Each moment the horrifying thought struck him that he was responsible for this—he had to fix this somehow. The consequences were overwhelming. He'd affected Tasha’s life drastically, all because he’d acted impulsively and she was the one by his side. But in what twisted world did trying to help others place you in danger every time? Everything about this world of spies and espionage—the intelligence community—was upside down. Those on the side of the free world, who tried to stand up to oppression, found themselves trying to be dragged down, crushed into nothing.

The door opened and Jason glanced up as he heard the door swing open. Fear ran through his veins from the agonizing thoughts he’d experienced over the last hours. In the doorway, he made out Tasha. Relief flooded through him. Thank God she’s okay. Behind her was a muscular man he’d seen earlier who threw her to the concrete floor. The door shut.

Jason made his way over to her, being tied up made it rather difficult to move. He was grateful though he wasn’t held down to the chair anymore. “Are you okay?!” he asked, his face etched with concern.

Tasha struggled to sit up. “I’m fine.” She eyed Jason up and down. “How about you?”

“I’m okay. Still a little sore from earlier.” He scooted closer to Tasha. “I’m so sorry. I got us into this.”

“Turns out it wasn't you after all. The people behind this knew we were coming before our plane even landed.”

Jason quickly responded. “That’s still no excuse for my actions. I was so intent on making sure our mission was a success I ended up compromising it and putting us at risk. I did more harm than good. When you’re out there and everything’s going as it should it’s easy to think that nothing is going to go wrong. You have to remind yourself just how risky this job is. I’m sorry it took something like this happening to make me see that. But I want you to know I’ll do whatever I can to make this up to you.”

Tasha could see the sincerity in Jason’s eyes. “I know you will.”

“So, are we good?” Jason asked softly, hoping against hope that they were.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Tasha said gently. They both slightly smiled.

Jason sighed. “Do you have any idea who’s behind this?”

“I thought at first it was probably Dalmar but then found out from a woman, who I’m assuming is the leader of this group, that he isn’t. Apparently, we’re being used in some plan of hers to bring down Dalmar.”

“That’s not much to go on.”

“No, it certainly isn’t. Right now all we can do is wait.”

“Waiting…not exactly one of my favorite things.”

“Really? You, having a hard time being patient. I never would have guessed.” She smirked.

“Not everyone can be a paragon of patience like yourself.”

“I’m not the one who brought this up” she wryly chucked. “Let me think, who was it? Oh, right it was you.”

“Well, that was different…I think…that was me talking about…me.”

Tasha shook her head. “Look at us. Tied up and we still can’t stop bickering with each other.” Tasha had never met anyone who could push and challenge her the way Jason did. Who could go toe to toe with her. Match her wit and banter. She found Jason’s sense of humor honestly annoying yet charming at the same time. At the very least it provided a distraction from their current surroundings.

“I guess we just can’t help it.”

“Yeah, how else could we possibly put up with each other.” The two of them shared an amused look followed by a light laugh. It felt comforting to share a moment of levity. To not be alone. For a second their troubles seemed to melt away, at least to a certain extent. Their banter made their lives seem more “normal” if that was possible. At least how it had been the day before. When they were just two coworkers together rather than two kidnapped NSA agents being held in an empty warehouse. Their thoughts began to once again drift to their present situation. Not knowing what was in store for them - that was what was most frightening.

The door suddenly swung open. Elias entered the darkroom and walked to where Tasha and Jason were seated. He violently tore Tasha away from the wall.

“What are you doing?! Let go of her!” Jason shouted.

“You all said I could be here,” Tasha responded.

“Time to go'' Elias responded as he dragged her to the door. Tasha didn’t resist. Better to save her strength for later when she’d need it the most.

All Jason wanted to do was help, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing except to be tied down and watch from the sidelines. The unfolding scene served as a reminder that their fate was in someone else’s hands, and at this moment there was nothing he could do.

As Tasha was dragged out Jason kept shouting “Stop!” over and over again. He felt shaken to the core seeing her disappear down the hall. Two burly men surged into the room; they grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall. They grabbed Jason’s arms and forced him through the doorway. He grunted and strained, trying to resist them but it was useless being tied up. The door shut behind them leaving them mostly in darkness. Jason was yanked and pushed down a long hallway. He wished this was a nightmare. One he could wake up from and forget - but it wasn’t. This was real. Uncertainty filled him, along with generous doses of fear, much more for Tasha than for himself. He was grateful his parents couldn’t see him now. They’d be consumed with worry and distress, especially after what had happened to Jerry. Losing another child was something they never wanted to experience again. The pain was unlike any other. Jason still vividly recalled coming from school. Seeing his mother and father desperately holding onto each other on the couch, weeping. They’d naturally been concerned for his safety when he told him he wanted to join the NSA but offered him their full support and prayers. He promised them he’d be okay. That was one promise he was determined to keep.

…..

Four days earlier:

Outside the sun crossed the sky and dipped down under the horizon. The moon appeared and the stars came out. Crickets chirped all around.

Milena lay in bed asleep. Her usual nights were filled with the memories and faces of the past. Her Dad, Mom, and Liana. Now a strange and twisted dream shook her. She saw a man who looked like Dalmar seated on a throne in the center of Izmirlian Square. Gold and red robes adorned him and a gilded crown sat atop his head. He held a golden scepter in his hand and was surrounded by a sea of people.

A woman in the crowd pointed at him and yelled, "You aren’t here to free us! You’re here to enslave us! Monster!!!” She was soon joined by all the other members of the enormous crowd. Suddenly, Milena was the person seated on the throne. The crowd began to press closer and closer. In their hands, they held stakes, pitchforks, and guns. Frantically, they cried out for her head. Milena stood from the throne. Panic gripped her eyes. She glanced down and saw that her hands were stained red with blood. In the corner of her eye, she saw something pointed to her head. She turned her head and saw a man standing before her holding a pistol to her head. His eyes were full of rage. She found herself shaking uncontrollably. The man’s finger found the trigger. “Please!” she pleaded. “I’m not a monster. This isn’t me!” The gun went off.

Milena jerked awake, gasping for breath. Her forehead was beaded with sweat and her cheeks were flushed. She tried to reason and calm herself down. It had just been a nightmare. A very strange and horrifying one albeit. She shut her thoughts out. She wasn’t some power-hungry monster like Dalmar, to be reviled and despised. Who was deluded with dreams of power or of the world holding its breath at one word from her lips.

She ran her hand through her hair and glanced out the window at the night sky. It wasn’t like what she’d dreamed was an omen or sign of the future, so why did she feel so uneasy? Perhaps it was that she was soon reaching the point of no return. Today, in merely a few hours, 1131 and 2362 would be arriving. The countdown was nearly over. Time was running out. She could either keep going or stop altogether. Who was she kidding? She knew there was only one choice.

#aio fanfic #AIO Fanfiction #jason whittaker #tasha forbes #Adventures in odyssey #adventuresinodyssey #aio #adventures in odyssey fanfiction #adventures in odyssey fanfic

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laws-yellow-submarine · 4 years

Text

🌠Shooting Stars🌠

An entry for the One Piece Summer challenge!

Law x Reader

Prompt: Stargazing Word Count: 1.6k

Synopsis: While travelling on the Polar Tang, you don't usually stay afloat for long. However, a starry night is too tempting...

♡

Summer.

Does it really matter?

Your head prompted on your palm, you were lost in the vagueness of the ocean. It was one of the few days that the Polar Tang would stay afloat in the middle of the sea. Actually, tonight, was a special night; the sky was a dark canvas painted with falling stars, decorated with brushstrokes of unmethodical, colourful patterns and dancing spots everywhere.

Even the air, it brought the salty aroma on deck, filling your lungs with it and cheering you up. You would never get used to it... and it was always such a pain to let it out of your system...

Travelling in a submarine had forever been quite depressing. The empty spaces were blocking any source of light from entering, therefore transforming themselves into a cloistered prison. You felt so cooped up sometimes, like a caged bird. Not even the palliative company of your nakama could alleviate the gloomy mood that was slowly eating you away.

Every single time you disappeared into the depths of the bottomless sea, it was as if the time froze. There was no morning, noon, nor afternoon. There was no spring, summer, autumn, nor winter. There was only the black of night.

Unlit and shadowy, it swallowed everything in its wake, you included.

You had always lived in the open air, enjoyed the blessings of nature, the warmth of the sun caressing your body and somehow driving all your preoccupations away. That's the very reason you became a pirate, to begin with.

If it weren't for those silver eyes, you wouldn't be here. Trafalgar Law, the Surgeon of Death, had managed to get his hands gripped around your heart, squeezing for all they were worth, leaving you aching with longing and a breath stuck in your throat. You knew he was no good but, there was something in him... something... hypnotising, that you simply couldn't ignore.

Even though the feeling of drowning in the blackness between the walls had been torturing you ever since you begun your journey, the mysterious glimmer in his look dragged you out of your fear and anguish. He was always by your side, in his own way.

A great Captain, indeed.

Yet, you couldn't omit the fact that something was seriously troubling him the past few weeks. He always had a tendency to isolate himself in his cabin, reading books and making research on medical grounds -- his muttering jargon under his breath confirming that -- but he didn't use to be that distant.

Especially tonight, when the scenery above you was remarkable to the point where one could literally gawk with their mouth hanging open. He would never miss a rain of falling stars.

"They remind of someone... special." he would always say.

You wanted to ask him, delve deeper into his obscure past, yet, he was too reserved. He kept his feelings and thoughts to himself, you highly doubt he could trust even his first mate. However, it was evident in his indolent eyes, an agony, a tremendous feeling, deeply rooted in his soul.

That you could tell, for the eyes are the window to the soul... And this man's eyes... they held many sorrowful secrets...

What with all this thoughts swirling around your head, you lost your grip on the reality, so you never noticed the lovable white bear of the crew standing next to you.

Bepo.

You never understood why he would want to become a pirate and leave his life in the Mokomo Dukedom behind, a place fraught with peace-loving, cheerful creatures. Maybe he was curious to see what was beyond that land.

Come to think of it, the entire crew is quite absurd.

But I love them anyways.

The way the salty breeze messed with his fur was making him look even more adorable.

"Aren't those stars beautiful?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yes, they are."

The previous silence took over once again, until...

"Uh, Bepo... Do you know where the Captain is? I mean..." you tried to sound as indifferent as possible, "...he never misses this."

You saw no reaction for some seconds.

"He was working in his cabin... I guess he'll come soon..."

A voiceless nod of agreement and then you were sinking in your thoughts anew.

You didn't have the foggiest idea how long you had been staring at the starry horizon. The moon seemed gigantic now, the only embellishment that begged to differ in that symmetry of white and black.

Bepo had departed some minutes ago, because he couldn't stare at the full moon for too long, as he couldn't control his Sulong form completely.

So, for the moment, you were standing alone behind the railing of the submarine, admiring the view and the expansion of dark blue stretching in front of you. It was so relaxing, you couldn't get enough of it.

Until a certain tattooed hand was placed on your shoulder.

"Oi, (Y/n)."

You turned to face the long awaited raven-haired pirate.

"Yes, Captain?"

His touch immediately abandoned you and his grey eyes narrowed. "How many times do I have to tell you? You don't have to call me captain. Just call me Law."

You tried to look away, but he was pinning you with his intense and demanding look. You couldn't help but simply nod to avoid any more of... this.

I could easily drown in these pools of silver...

He stood beside you, supporting himself on the railing while he took an eyeful of the scene ahead. At first, you didn't pay too much attention to him but tried to focus elsewhere. You didn't manage to stay like that for long, though.

You took glances of your captain now and then, curious to witness all his reactions to this boon. You saw his grey orbs meeting the pale one in the sky and glowing in delight, then a weak smile bending his lips.

He looked at the moon as if it was a person; a person he held dear.

"Law."

He averted his star-kissed gaze slowly, reluctantly, until it locked with yours. "Yes?"

"That special someone you had told me about... do you want to talk about them?" you asked timidly, eyeing him expectantly, albeit you practically knew you'd get negative answer.

"It's a very old and long story."

Is he actually going to talk about it?!

He paused for some good moments, making you reasonably think that he had no intention of giving more details, but... he had.

He didn't exactly give you chapter and verse of his backstory, but he explained how he lost his entire family and hometown due to Amber Lead Syndrome, how he ended up in the Donquixote Pirates, how the noble and kind Cora-san sacrificed himself to save him....

You always sensed he'd got a dark background but, that was just too dark. How could a child possibly endure all this losses and trauma at once?

However, he never ceased his recounting. He went on, revealed more about his experiences, his life. Until, a shocking exposure was made and pretty much explained everything.

The Will of D.

He, Trafalgar Law, was carrying the tremendous Will of D. Well, that pretty much accounted for everything.

"But why are you telling me all this?"

He shifted, his grey eyes boring into yours in a vertiginous labyrinth.

"I'll be leaving soon." he replied, his tone colder than before.

"What?! Why?!"

"I need to take care of certain things... and now that we are in the New World... you know that we either go against or ally with the Emperors..."

"And whose side are we on?" you enquired, still struggling to process all these information.

"It's too early for you to know..." he grabbed you by your shoulders, gazing fiercely at you, "...but you needn't worry..." he said, his voice softening as well as his sharp features.

A hefty sigh escaped from your lips, before you glanced at the stars. You were fixated there, observing them make their steady descent, leaving trails of glimmering starlight behind.

"Do you want to make a wish?"

Law's frown was followed by a chuckle. "Isn't that too childish?"

"No, come on! The shooting stars don't stay for long!"

He closed his eyes in defeat, probably wishing for something. His hands hadn't abandoned your shoulders, not even then. You waited patiently for the moment his steel grey gaze met yours and you almost melted on the spot.

"What did you wish for?"

"I can't tell you..." he reminded you, his lips stretching into a mischievous smile.

Right.

"...but I can show you." was all he said, before his soft lips landed on yours.

Taken by surprise, could be an understatement. It felt so surreal, it gave you the impression you were hallucinating. It was all slow and passionate, with the dull light of the stars showering you, the low splash of the waves resonating and the slight rocking of the Polar Tang dolling it all up.

Hell, even the scratching of his goatee against your glabrous chin was alluring. You were swimming in a pool of bliss by now, unable and unwilling to get out. You knew it wasn't going to last long yet, you flung yourself into it. You were only a couple of hours away from being trapped in that cage of darkness again, but now you didn't seem to care.

Now you knew.

Summer matters.

Because I'm the summer to his winter heart.

~End~

----- OMG this was so cute <3 Law, shooting stars, and kissing are like...three of my favorite things lmao “I can’t tell you...but I can show you” GAH! I died, my face has been squished in happiness, and I’m still squealing. Great job, hun!!

@doctorgerth

#[email protected]#one piece of summer #trafalgar law #stargazing #reader insert #one piece #summer #submission

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