#he refuses to assist him for multiple reason

[nilonne]

Please watcher, give me the strenght !

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#the key of happiness #tkoh kalani #poor kalani he's been tried today #he's thinking he's not paid enough for this nonsense lol #he refuses to assist him for multiple reason #1 he doesn't like him as you can tell 2 he doesn't want to be associate with him and ruin his own reputation #but mostly cause he can't stand his ass ☠️ #and desmond if kiara was about powerful rich man you really think she'll be married to kevin ???? my girl doesn't care 😭😭

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

-

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

#jjk #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk fanfic #kento nanami #nanami headcanons #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #jjk imagines #nanami smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento smut #kento x y/n #kento x reader #kento x you #jjk kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami angst #nanami x you #nanami angst #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 4

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider-girl!reader

cw: suggestive scenes, insecurities, a bit of cussing

wc: ~2.1k

a/n: god i am SO sorry how long this chapter has taken. i'm not the type of writer to have multiple chapters in a series done before posting them every week, i literally post chapters right when i finish them lol. thanks for sticking with me and being patient!

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

Miguel is still a grumpy man, sneering at anyone who dares to get in his way, still stressed out about keeping the multiverse on track and recruiting capable Spiders to assist him, but at least you’re no longer the main culprit of his frustrations.

Well, you’ll take that back, you’re no longer the one being yelled at.

Your transgressions are dealt with in another way…

Miguel is…insatiable to say the least. Since the day he reprimanded you through very unconventional means, seven suits have fallen victim to his desperation, shredded until they slipped into a pile below you.

Before he could destroy another one, you demanded a nanotech one of your own, tired of having to wait days in between for another one to be tailored, but he refused to give you one because he’s concerned about the unstable WIFI.

Eager fingers tug at the neckline of your suit. He groans, listening to the delicious sound of his claw tearing at the fabric. Red eyes darken as he watches each thread give out to the sharp point of his claws, slowly revealing the supple skin of your throat. He only gets down to your collarbone when you suddenly move away with a huff.

“Mig! Stop.” He frowns when you pull away from his touch, confused as to why you’d reject his advances.

“Sweetheart?”

“You’re always tearing up my suits.”

He’s still confused. You’ve never complained about it before. Actually, you seem to enjoy it, flushing with desire when he uses his claws on you.

“Look, I’m done wearing the extra shirts you keep in your office, Miguel. It’s…awkward having to navigate through HQ to get home without real clothes.”

Miguel’s frown grows deeper. He loves seeing you in his shirts, watching how your smaller frame practically drowns in the fabric and brushes against the softness of your thighs. There’s a hint of domesticity in a sight like that, one that he’s longed for since losing his family. It brings out a whole new side to him and he’s stubborn to let it go.

“Plus, all the Spiders wear their suits 24/7 so it’s even weirder that I’m only in a shirt!” You don’t seem to notice how lost in thought he is, how much your words are impacting him. “...so how about getting me one of those nano-suits? That way I don’t have to worry about bothering the seamstress for the fifth time this week…”

Miguel’s hands pull you closer, cradling the back of your neck as his thumb fiddles with the small tear against your throat. “Mm…no, nanotech isn’t super reliable…” His hand drifts down and cups over one of your tits, “and I’m not letting anyone see what’s mine under here.” He squeezes gently, watching avidly as your lips part with pleasure.

“Yes, but–”

“No ‘buts,’ honey. This isn’t up for discussion. You know exactly what I’m talking about…”

It’s true, you’ve seen the risk of technologically powered nano-suits first-hand when Miguel gave the Spiders a glimpse of his impressive *cough* stature *cough* during a debriefing meeting.

Needless to say, he was the talk of the city for reasons other than being the grumpy boss…

“Okay, fine. But still…I’m serious about the suits.

That’s when you established the first ground rule of the relationship: no ripping suits unless there’s another one ready to go.

Sure, Miguel sulked about it for a week, making sure you saw his pout when he’d peel your suit off you, but he still made an effort to follow it, carefully evading the sharp tip of his claws when he’d get too eager to see what’s underneath.

You weren’t surprised when you returned to your apartment a few days later to boxes full of suits. Miguel stood there with a proud grin, fangs and claws ready, eyes glowing like rubies. You barely got in the door with your suit still intact.

You also made another rule: no touching during work hours.

You were surprised that you had to make the rule as Miguel is universally known as a strict boss, but similarly with your shredded suits, sometimes he just can’t help himself.

There were enough instances of almost being caught and having to scramble for one of his shirts (or tug on the biggest piece of suit left on the floor) because Miguel forgot to lock the door, that you had to put your foot down.

You grumble as Miguel attempts to pull you onto his lap.

“You know the rules, baby.”

His arms loop around you as you stand between his legs, “But it’s five o’clock!”

“Mm…check again.” He looks up at the holographic clock, you were right, it isn’t five. “It’s four fifty-five.” He raises a brow, unamused.

“Hm…” He yanks you against him causing you to fall over his seated figure, “Fuck it.”

“Miguel!”

—

Sure, being with him is hot and fun, but Miguel isn’t exactly ‘boyfriend’ material.

But it’s not like you’re any better.

Back in your dimension, you were never interested in relationships. You preferred to coast through flings and crushes rather than get emotionally involved with someone.

So this, whatever it is, is all new to you.

That being said, you had zero expectations when it came to this thing between the two of you. You’re like an eager puppy, enthusiastically taking everything he gives you and returning it tenfold. This could mean everything…or nothing.

You assume it’s been a while since Miguel has been with anyone. He’s…hesitant with you, sometimes, like he’s holding a part of himself back. Like it would be too much if he were to fully commit to you and show you what he wants deep down. There’s a constant push and pull with Miguel and it’s either very intense or barely there at all.

It’s a dynamic you’ll never get used to.

Sometimes you spend hours curled up on his lap, content with enjoying his company without a word exchanged between the two of you as he works on his computer, matching anomalies to dimensions and answering messages from different Spiders.

It’s peaceful and oddly domestic. You can almost forget about the collapsing multiverse, the worries that loom over all Spiders, and pretend it’s just you and him.

But then, there are the other times.

Moments that you’d like to forget.

Sometimes he needs space. He needs time to methodically plan out missions and brood in his office until it gets late enough that you know he isn’t coming to your apartment.

Sometimes he disappears for days, or even weeks at a time, never giving you a hint of where he’ll be, just an, “I’ll be back,” thrown over his shoulder. And then you’re left at the entrance as he shuts the door behind him, desperately waiting for him to return so you can be happy again.

You don’t know why he turns cold, and you’ll probably never find out because he doesn’t talk about his past.

It could be your fault.

You never ask.

You never push him to tell you about that little girl whose photo floats on his desktop, or the ring that sits in a drawer right beside his side of the bed.

Sometimes you wonder if you should. If that’s what you’re supposed to do in a ‘relationship’ like this. If you deserve even a crumb of vulnerability from him. But you’re too afraid to lose the fragile thing you have.

You left everything for Miguel. Without him, you’d just be a girl floating in a sea of spiders.

For some reason, you’d rather constantly be on the edge of your seat than lost without him. Because that’s how it would end. You convince yourself that the good times outweigh the bad.

Your infatuation blurs the blue waves and disperses the confusion and hurt until it barely feels like a pinch. He buries your seeds of worry with delicate kisses and numbs the creeping feeling of defeat with the heat of his touch.

With every cold shoulder comes a warm embrace, and you’ll wait weeks in the chill if it means you’ll be in his arms again.

—

Hobie is back, again, despite claiming to quit a couple of weeks ago. Always expect the unexpected with Hobie because consistency is not in his (very British and barely decipherable) vocabulary.

“Oi, Black-Widow, long time no see, eh?” His eye must’ve caught on to your new outfit, a custom dark-gray suit with nano-tech details. Miguel finally reimbursed you after carelessly shredding through your one and only suit.

It’s really nice, and you’re finally more recognizable with this one than the old red and blue traditional you sported before. You turn, spotting his iconic hair and piercings.

“Hobie! You’re back!” You practically jump into his arms, and he catches you easily. “Where’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know, here and there.” A cleared throat echoes through the room and he sets you down on your feet before slightly stepping away from you. Right, you’re still in his office. Whoops.

“Brown.” Miguel acknowledges Hobie, barely, despite talking directly to him. Hobie looks between the two of you, picking up on the change almost immediately. Whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t show it.

“O’Hara.” He replies with an amused expression.

“Ready to get back to work?”

He shrugs, clearly not shaken in the slightest. “S’why I’m here, innit?”

“Good. Go report to Drew, you’ll be leaving in 20.”

“Right…” Eyes back on you. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah, we can catch up later! Be safe.”

“Will do, Spider-Woman.” You catch Hobie sending Miguel a teasing smirk as he draws away from the two of you and leaves the room. 

Freaking bugger, he’s trying to rile him up!

“I don’t like that guy.” He says it after a few seconds of silence.

You sigh, “I know.”

You turn to face him, meeting his signature scowl as he continues to glare at the door.

“With you.”

“I know.”

—

You’re still trying to do things your way, which, in your opinion, is the right way. And Miguel is still webbing you to any convenient surface and telling Parker to watch over you so he can get back to work.

“Not today, sweetheart.” You tug against the wisps of glowing red webs, nearly growling in your struggle. He’s clearly upgraded their strength after you’ve been able to escape and secretly tag along behind him.

“Wait, but, Miguel–!”

“This operation is especially sensitive. I can’t have you window shopping in a crumbling mall again.”

“That was one time! And we weren’t even on a mission.”

He raises an accusing brow, “Exactly.” He starts to walk away, ignoring your groaning and moaning. “Don’t forget you’re still on thin ice after you disobeyed orders last time.

“Ugh! C’mon, that was eons ago. I think I’ve proven myself.” He walks away, clicking a few buttons on his watch before a portal appears.

“Yeah, on unauthorized trips.”

“Still!”

“Brown, you ready?”

Hobie pushes off the wall he is leaning on and gives Miguel a teasing salute, “Aye-aye, sir.”

“What?! I’m stuck over here, but he gets to go?” The Brit sends you a teasing wink.

“He’s dispensable, cariño.”

“Ouch.”

You look over to the other side of the room where Peter sits.

“Okay, and what about him?”

“He's on babysitting duty.”

“Really? We’re still on this?” You raise an annoyed brow.

Peter holds his hands up in surrender, “Don’t look at me, look at your boyfriend. You’re not the only one suffering from this arrangement.”

“Boyfriend? More like father…” You mumble grumpily.

Hobie’s mouth quirks up, “Father? More like d-”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence, Brown.” Of course, this doesn’t discourage him, if anything, the low growl only makes him smile wider. Miguel sighs, releasing the sudden tension from his body with a quick roll of his shoulders. “Alright, we should be back in a handful of hours.” He begrudgingly looks over at his mission partner, “Let’s go.”

“Okay, call me if you need help!” You yell as Hobie disappears into a flash of neon lights and pulsing sounds.

Before Miguel follows and slips through the portal, he stops and looks back, not at you, but at your babysitter, “And Parker,” He pulls his mask on, always ready for battle, “Make sure she behaves.”

“Oh, come on–”

Peter grins and sends Miguel a half-hearted thumbs up, “You got it.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #scratches and bites #atsv

[lyomeii]

delicated

-> warnings: yandere themes, manipulation, obsession, death mention and much more.

-> request by anon! If requests are still open, can I request yandere Dylan from I tamed a tyrant and ran away with a darling who is Charlize’s beloved younger sister? Thank you!

-> a/n: loved writing this one, even though I got a little struck while writing, for some reason, it made me quite happy when finishing it.

-> charlize loves you since the beginning. you are her other half, her younger twin sister who unlucky her, managed to have a better life than her, well, that what she thought at first.

-> like charlize, you were blame for mother’s death, yet you were way kinder than her, sweeter and even more stupidly apologetic to brothers and father. thinking they were only playing silly jokes, you were to naive compared to charlize who was turned into that blade.

-> during the many and many years of her suffering, charlize heard what happened to you that time. you went look after her unstoppable, even refusing marriage proposals and become lonely inside that bedroom she shared with you. father attempted to help you move on from her, only to end with you screaming at the old man and stomping away from that household to never be heard again.

-> she hopes that you got married with someone you loved and had a great life far away from that household, however, charlize knows that you probably search after her til your death originally. she even heard that father send multiple people after you, only to never find you. maybe that was the point when father almost died by a heart attack.

-> when she regress time and now have a chance to change the future, charlize didn’t lost a second to take you out that place and make you her assistant when teaching the young prince.

-> firstly, charlize didn’t want you to become closer to dylan. she felt that he was dangerous and would use you in a sooner future, yet that didn’t stop you for befriend the boy, after all, how long have you talk with someone that wasn’t your own sister?

-> as guilty she feels, she didn’t stop you for talking with dylan when there wasn’t any classes. sometimes, he would take you out to experience foods and gift you small pieces of clothing that all made you. all of this making you become even closer to the boy, even with him introducing you to his mother way earlier than charlize expected.

-> in fact, she would become worry about the closeness between you two, so she began ordering you to help her even more in her duties, something sending you off the palace to buy something or even for spending a day outside.

-> there was no doubt that dylan has feelings for you. she knows it. the little touch in your shoulder whatever you two go out, how every time you hand him something, he always blushing for the mere touch of your hand against his. charlize isn’t liking it.

-> in a desperate way to make send you away from dylan’s eyes, charlize had no other option than send you back home. the choice made her feel bad and of course, you yell at her and things get complicated between you and her, but one day, you will know that she only did this for your safety.

-> when you didn’t show up next day, dylan questioned your absence and charlize told him a lie.

-> “ she felt homesick and return back home for a while” you won’t return anytime soon. she won’t let you visit her, even hating father and brothers, she made them lock you inside that house for your own safety no matter how depressing you become.

-> dylan, of course, doesn’t believe her words and send someone to look after you. he soon discovery your state inside that place, how sad you are to be locked with those people who claim to love you, but only after neglecting you for years and years.

-> as much he loves you and want you at his side, he stood calm and cool. he has a plan to take over the empire and make him the next leader of the nation, of course, with you as his significant other.

-> as he keep studying under charlize, dyaln dream about having you, someone who finally understands him no matter the circumstances. when the moment arrive, he will be there to catch you from that place and make you finally his.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere manhwa #manhwa x reader #yandere dylan sean braithe #dylan sean braithe x reader #dylan sean blade x you #i tamed a tyrant and ran away #yandere I tamed a tyrant and ran away

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for refusing to lend a friend money? 🐱🐱🐱🐱<- (for finding later)

I (28nb) have a friend (28m) who has recently had some problems with employment. He lost his job but has since found another. He is in a living situation with his fianceé where he pays half the rent.

Today he sent me a message asking, very politely, if he could have $59 dollars to cover his half of their rent. He made it clear in his request that he had not discussed this with his fianceé yet.

I said no - one reason being we recently totalled our car and depleted our savings putting money down on a new one (and those interest rates....still ouch), the other being that we've lent almost 1000k to a different friend of ours over the last two years, and haven't been paid back despite multiple verbal agreements.

We are a two income household making a combined 100k a year, but the majority of our income is spent on rent and our student loans. I feel bad because it seems surface level, $59 dollars isn't really that much of an ask. But looking at our broad finances, we're more in-debt to the institutions our loans are paid to than our actual income. We do, however, live comfortably and are privlidged enough to save some money most months. We do donate to causes, and have in the past given our friends places to stay for months at a time when they have no where to go / are in bad financial situations.

When this friend lost his job, I did help him by brainstorming with him on jobs he could do that would suit his sensory needs, and didn't involve customer service. I did research on multiple places close to him that would also suit his transportation limitations and pay him well while accentuating his skillset, and compiled links to the job listings. He has since been hired and onboarded at one of those jobs; he's a very sweet, genuine individual and I'm truly happy because I was also supporting him emotionally during this time and could see how hard this situation was on his mental and physical health.

The other reason I said no was this - he is getting married in one week from the time I'm sending this in. He made it clear in his message he had not talked yet about how he was short for rent with his fianceé. They live together, and go half on rent. I felt very concerned that he was bringing this to me first, and not to his soon-to-be-wife, who deserves financial transparency from her partner (as do we all). I don't think he ever intended to not tell her, but in my opinion money-matters should always be discussed with your significant other first in a healthy relationship.

I discussed this with my wife and she agreed. I told him we couldn't lend him the money and he said he understood. I also encouraged him to talk to his fianceé because she's his best friend and support. I didn't include my p-o-v that he should discuss money matters with her first and foremost because of their relationship and housing arrangement, because I'm hoping that's a conversation they can have in the immediacy?

But I still feel like an asshole and I'm not sure if it's because I said "No," because I have provided financial / housing assistance in the past to others and didn't this time, or because I actually am an asshole.

So - what do you think?

TL;DR - A soon-to-be-married, recently unemployed and then re-employed friend asked for $59 to cover rent. I have helped other friends in the past with rent and housing but said no because we can't afford it right now (which is true, despite being dual income) and also he hasn't discussed being short on rent with his finaceé / housemate yet.

#aita #am i the asshole

[blues824]

I know you have a lot of requests and you can ignore this in the trash if you feel like it, but can I request something for the overblot guys + Malleus of Twisted Wonderland with a Pokémon trainer Yuu who specializes in helping to rehabilitate rescued pokemons and even trained some to be like therapy/service pokemons?

Something like Riddle ends up bonding with a rescued springatito, who starts rubbing there paws to create an aroma to help Riddle calm down when he is angered. Or Malleus with a hisuian goodra that once was lost, just to give him a buddy so he feels less lonely.

Gender-neutral reader.

Riddle Rosehearts

Mans needs it desperately, and I think we can all agree. He might try to refuse the Pokémon at first, but he will come around

Since you are his significant other, he is more likely to listen to you out of anyone else (excluding the teachers)

He thought that your occupation was an admirable one, since taking care of animals is something his dorm specializes in

I feel like he would definitely need a Springatito to help him calm down when he gets super freaking angry. It would be better if you were there, though

Leona Kingscholar

He also needs therapy, just like all of the other overblot victims. He acts like he hates the Pokémon first, though.

But, there are a few times where he gets lonely in his bed, so he will take you up on your offer for a therapy Pokémon

For that reason, he could use a Snorlax. They both like to sleep, and the Pokémon is like a pillow, so it works out.

Unfortunately, the Snorlax does not replace you or your cuddles and warmth or your scent. Leona won’t ever tell you that, though

Azul Ashengrotto

This is a situation where he needs to see therapy as beneficial not only to himself but to the economy, the one that he contributes to by running the Lounge

However, it can be pretty stressful to be balancing school and work, so he needs a Pokemon that can help him relax at night

You can not tell me that he would not be vibing with a Jigglypuff. It would not only bring a soothing vibe to the Mostro Lounge, but Azul here can get an adequate amount of sleep

The only thing that could make it better was if you were there to cuddle with the very flustered cecaelia.

Jamil Viper

We all know that this man is stressed and stretched out to his complete capacity, even after his overblot.

If you were to give him an Evee, who has multiple different evolution forms, it will be a huge burden lifted off of his shoulders

Because not only can all of the Evee evolutions help him in a variety of different forms, Evee also offers companionship

Then, if you join in on helping him around Scarabia, it only sweetens the deal. Not only would he have his Pokémon pal, but also his significant other

Vil Schoenheit

He struggles with maintaining both his beauty and his reputation, and he feels as though no one understands how cutthroat this industry is

So, in order to make a therapeutic breakthrough with Vil, he needs a Pokemon that truly understands him

That’s why I’ve partnered with Milotic, because nothing is better than a humble and kind but also beautiful Pokémon

Not only does Milotic understand what he goes through in his rivalry with Neige, but he also has you to help him if he needs extra assistance.

Idia Shroud

This man’s struggle is shyness. He hates being around a single person that isn’t you; you are the only exception

However, you are not available all the time, so you proposed a Pokémon pal for him. It didn’t sound horrible, so he agreed.

You decided that a Shaymin would be perfect for Idia. The two get along so well, you would think that you’re irrelevant

A little sidenote: I chose Shaymin because it has a flower and it reminded me of the Greek Mythology of Hades and Persephone

Malleus Draconia

Last, but certainly not least, we have Malleus Draconia. The man is lonely, and that’s where y’all’s savior complex comes in

But, as the Ramshackle Prefect as well as a Pokémon caretaker, you don’t have a lot of time to just drop everything and hang out with the young prince

So, you offered to introduce him to one of your many Pokémon, and you decided that a Goodra would be the best fit

The three of you acted like a little family, with you as the leader because the others were emotionally attached to you.

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle #twst riddle rosehearts #twst riddle x reader #twst leona x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #twst leona kingscholar #leona #twst azul x reader #twst azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul #azul x reader #twst azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #twst jamil viper

[akutasoda]

may I request angst where Dazai’s s/o dies protecting him?

i wish i never let you in

synopsis - being with you was the greatest thing to him, now it seems to be the worst

includes - dazai

warnings - gn!reader, angst no comfort - kind of went overboard toward end (sorry), reader dies, small descriptions of injury, wc - 654

it was well known to himself at this point that he wasn't that willing to let people get close to him. the facade he normally fronted day in and day out for the people around him covered that very well. most the time he was friends with people without letting them get too close or knowing more than he would let them. and for this reason he never really saw himself having a proper relationship.

scratch that, he never saw himself ever having another genuine friendship let alone relationship. and that would be for multiple reasons on his end - reasons he knew but refused to address or fix. but that sort of changed the first day you walked into the agency.

you were a new hire for the agency and first he was indifferent toward you. treating you as he would any other colleague and nothing more. and that was until he started feeling something a bit more, starting hanging out with you more and more. there seemed to be something about you, if not all of you, that drew him toward you.

and it did still take quite the time before he started truly letting you in and that was after the painstakingly long drag along the line between friends and lovers. when eventually he had decided it was enough to let you in. you truly were someone he never thought he would encounter again, someone he could let the mask slip around and trust.

you became somewhat of a home base for him. someone he slowly started going to for problems instead of ignoring them and was met with the sweet embrace of you. that was something he treasured and while he had more doubts about this relationship considering the line of work you both engaged in, he just promised himself he would never let history repeat itself.

so he knew it was inevitable for a dangerous mission to arise requiring your presence. he dreaded it dearly but wasn't going to argue as he had faith you would handle yourself well. but that didn't stop him from making you indulge in a child like promise before you left - interlocking your pinky fingers as you promised you return before sealing the promise with a kiss.

he should've seen this coming. from the moment something didn't sit right when he looked at the vacant space of your desk in the office and your usual spots in his residence. aferall he always accepted the fact that everything he cared for was lost. and he was determined to change that so he demanded that he join you on the mission.

somehow he was allowed and now guilt enveloped him like weighted blanket. he had joined you and was focused on protecting you ensuring you both returned safely but one of his predictions went astray and you stepped in. he had no clue his life was in danger before he felt your presence beside him disappear as quickly as it appeared.

by the time he turned to face you, you were collapsed on the floor unmoving and unresponsive. he knew this scenario far too painstakingly well. he couldn't cry and he was thankful there were others to assist in battle as he put his needs above theirs as be cradled you body close whispering broken promises.

he had let it happen again and he couldn't help but blame himself. he chose to go on that mission to help you but his help had now cursed you to the grave. a grave that sat cleanly polished and honoured upon a hill underneath a tree. your name engraved upon the tombstone as he stared at it with remorse. a small glance toward the grave to the left was an even more painful reminder that he had let another person he deeply cared about die. all because of his foolish recklessness.

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai x reader

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 51 🔞

Prompt: Boy Next Door (Wooyoung x Fem!Reader)

Tags: Narrator is female, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do it), multiple orgasms

A/N: Let’s see how thirsty Wommys are

I was just finishing getting ready when I heard a timid knock on the door. My date for the event wasn’t supposed to be here for another ten minutes. A quick peek through the peephole revealed it was my next door neighbor.

“Problem?” I asked. It was the only reason Jung Wooyoung ever showed up at my door. He wasn’t the least bit subtle about checking me out.

“I need help with my sink again, but I guess you’re busy,” he said.

“Yes, I am,” I replied. My phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Hottie from Coffee Place: Something came up. Sorry for the last minute cancel. Will make it up to you.

“You’re joking,” I grumbled at the message.

“What happened?” Wooyoung asked, still standing in the doorway.

“My date canceled on me 10 minutes before we needed to leave,” I waved him in.

“Where were you going?” he asked.

“This thing my parents are hosting. Some kind of charity event for an animal shelter. The oldest daughter has to always be there of course,” my bitterness bled through in spite of myself.

“I can come with you. If you need a date,” he offered.

“Thanks, but I think I might just stay in and claim I got sick,” I sighed.

“How formal? I think my tux is still pressed,” he replied.

“Very funny,” I rolled my eyes.

“No, I actually own a tux. Though given how short your dress is, I’m guessing a nice shirt and pants would suffice,” he took that as another shameless excuse to check me out. I didn’t mind as much the second time.

“How do you know you don’t wear a short dress to a black tie event?” I asked.

“I’m a second son. Of those Jungs,” he chewed his lip a little. “I know all about formal parties and impressing investors and birth order.”

“So that’s why you’re completely incompetent yet refuse to call maintenance when you break something in your apartment?” I smiled a little.

“And I might have a crush on the girl next door who can fix minor plumbing or electrical issues. I promise I’ve never broken anything on purpose,” he smiled back. I considered what he’d said. Neither of my parents would have their phones and if I messaged their assistants it wouldn’t get there in time. I wasn’t in the mood to get bitched out in the morning for not showing.

“Go get changed and I’ll meet you downstairs,”

My parents were shocked when I introduced Wooyoung as my date. Not much impressed them, but apparently the handsome son of the Jung Enterprises empire was one of them - even if he was the second son. Of course, he found out who I was in the process, but given he lived in the same middle class apartment I did he clearly shared my feelings on getting out from under your parents’ weight.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked after we got back.

“I’d love to,” he grinned.

“Thank you for coming. I appreciate it,” I told him.

“I had a good time. Though I think it was mostly the company,” he replied.

“So tell me more about this crush,” I pulled him down on the couch next to me.

“Well, she’s really hot, but she’s also nice. The first week I moved in I broke my sink and couldn’t find the number for maintenance so I went to ask her and she was able to fix it herself. She always smiles and says hi when we see each other in the hall. I’ve really wanted to ask her out, but she’s so pretty and nice she’s got to have a boyfriend already, but I just found out she doesn’t,” he said.

“So does that mean you’re gonna ask her out?” I asked.

“I think I’ll see if she’d like to go out to dinner tomorrow,” he replied.

“I think she can clear her schedule,” I grinned.

“Can I ask you something else?” he inched a little closer.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Can I kiss you?” he met my eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I pulled him into me and joined our lips. Before I knew it, I was straddling his lap, holding his face in my hands, and letting his tongue do things in my mouth I never knew were possible.

“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?” he asked when we finally came up for air.

“Depends, what did you have in mind?” I traced patterns over his collarbone.

“I’d like to fuck you, if you’re up for it,” he looked up at me.

“I was hoping to get laid tonight,” I kissed his cheek.

“Great!” he immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re cute,” I giggled as I walked him to the bedroom. “I even tidied up in anticipation.”

“Wow, you were into this guy,” Wooyoung observed.

“I’m over him now. Turns out my hot next door neighbor is into me,” I said. I pulled off my dress and lied down on the bed, my panties steadily soaking through as I looked up at him.

“Yes, yes he is,” he grinned and stripped completely. “Though if you don’t mind I’m going to tease your pussy first.”

“Don’t mind at all,” I opened my legs so he could get my panties off and get his face between my legs. If his tongue did magical things to my mouth, it was doing otherworldly things to my pussy. Under most circumstances, I would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of my mouth. This time, I let myself groan and whine until Wooyoung literally held down my hips to make me come.

“Oh fuck,” I planted and pushed my hair out of my face after I finished.

“Now time for number two. You don’t mind no condom?” he said.

“No, I’m good if you are,” I replied, still trying to catch my breath.

“Perfect,” he gave me a peck on the lips then slid into me. “Hard? Slow? Don’t care?”

“You pick,” I told him.

“Then I think I’m gonna take you slow. At least let you catch your breath before I make you come again,” he grinned, lying on top of me and kissing me again. Our bodies slid against each other, sweat slicked and needy, as his hips moved against mine. Our kisses were slow and deep. This was different for me, very different, but I liked it.

“Time for you to come again,” he breathed against my ear. He pushed himself up over me and fucked into me harder. I could barely keep a grip on his arms, but managed to as he made me come a second time that night. My back bowed off the bed as I dug my nails into his biceps. I felt him start to empty into me a few seconds later.

“Fuck,” he breathed when we both finished. He rolled us over so I was on top.

“Amazing,” I kissed him. “Thank you.”

“For which part?” he asked.

“The whole night,” I replied.

“You’re welcome. Still want to go to dinner tomorrow?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” I grinned. “Assuming I decide to let you out of bed.”

“I knew I was good, but I didn’t think I was that good,” he laughed.

“Well, now you know,” I rested my head on his shoulder and traced circles on his chest, blissed out more than I’d been in a long time.

#just fucking write 2k24 #minors dni #ateez fanfic #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung x reader #ateez smut #ateez hard thoughts

[howlingday]

Codename: Red Dawn

This is a man with an ambition.

=============================

Jaune: (Opens the door) Hello? Can I help you?

Adam: My name is Adam Tauren. I'm a co-worker of Mrs. Belladina. She left this magnifying glass in her office.

Jaune: Oh, well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Blake stepped out for a moment.

Adam: (Thinking) I already know. This was just an attempt to get close to you, since you're the reason she's so distracted from her mission.

Jaune: Would you like to come inside for coffee?

Adam: I suppose if you're offering, then I have no reason to deny it.

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

Adam: You have a lovely home.

Adam: Jaune Arc. If I find out that you're a detriment to our mission, then I will see you eliminated!.

Jaune: Thank you, but it was my wife who mostly did the decorations.

Adam: This man is very skilled. Finding a weak-point may prove difficult.

Jaune: (Thinking) He's so intimidating! Aside from Sun and Saph, I've never had a guest on my own before! Just remember; you are Blake's husband. You are Blake's husband!.

Adam: Removing him directly would prove too risky. It's better to convince him to leave on his own.

Adam: Your daughter... Penny, right? She seems to be quite the active child.

Jaune: Huh? Oh, yeah! She's always got so much energy!

Adam: That must be difficult. It must be hard to keep up with her sometimes, doesn't it?

Adam: She's only your step-child. Why bother putting in so much effort? Let me take over.

Jaune: Hard? Not really. I have a lot of energy myself, too, y'know! Now, if she was moody and down in the dumps all the time, I don't know what I'd do! Besides, we have a ton of fun together!

Adam: Spare me the affection. You're not her father.

Jaune: But the one who really struggles is Blake. She's spread so thin as it is, I can't help but feel like I could be doing more...

Adam: Bingo. You're not meant for this operation. You need to realize your own inadequacy.

Adam: Yes, I have heard Mrs. Belladina complain on multiple occasions about your inability to-

Penny: Penny has returned home~!

Blake: Adam? What are you doing here?

Adam: Greetings, Mrs. Belladina.

Jaune: Mr. Tauren was returning this magnifying glass.

Penny: Oh! That's where it was!

Blake: Ah, I see. Thank you.

Blake: (Thinking) If he's here, then it must mean there's urgent business.

Jaune: I'm surprised to see you three back already.

Blake: It looked like rain, so I made sure Juniper was quick with her business.

Blake: (Speaking normally, Code-talking) Why are you really here, Red Dawn?

Adam: (Speaking normally, Code-talking) I'm here to assess the progress of your mission.

Penny: (Mind-reading, Thinking) This scary guy is a spy, too?!.

Blake: The mission is going fine.

Adam: Is walking your daughter's pet vital to the mission? Why not make this man do all of your errands. Is he refusing to cooperate?

Blake: (Narrows eyes) What are you trying to say?

Adam: You're spending less time focused on the mission and more on this household fantasy. I suggest we reevaluate your operational tactics.

Blake: You're in no position to suggest anything.

Penny: Mama and this scary guy are fighting! Is he a bad guy?!.

Adam: Agent Nightshade...

Adam: I LOVE YOU.

Penny: (Blinks, Shakes head)

Adam: I LOVE...

Adam: YOOOOOOOU~!.

Penny: ...

Adam: How can she not see how perfect I would be as her husband? I can offer superior domestic support! Exquisite five-star meals, five-digit financial support, laundry complete in no time, lifesaving first aid, and even reconnaissance assistance on all your enemies you'll ever face, including names, weapons, allergies, and how many white hairs they have on their heads!.

Jaune: I'll make some more coffee. Penny, would you like some cocoa?

Adam: We'll honeymoon in Vale.

Blake: What is he thinking? I can never tell.

Penny: ...

#rwby #spy x family #jaune arc #adam taurus #penny polendina #blake belladonna #knightshade #rwby au

[ursafootprints]

today on "5k worth of a fic idea that I constantly spin around in my mind like a rotisserie chicken but am not invested enough in to actually write:"

Identity porn omegaverse dystopia AU; Peter is an infertile omega who, despite May's attempts to give him the best chances possible by scraping by to get him an education in both domestic skills and academics, has pretty much zero prospects for his future. Sure, she'll take care of him herself as the household alpha for as long as she can, but she knows a time will come when he'll be on his own, and she knows what happens to infertile omegas-- no matter how wonderful of a housekeeper or nanny or tutor she makes him into, who's going to hire him for that in earnest when he could be used for other things on the side, and who's going to marry an omega who can't give them children?

So one day, she’s helping clean up after a charity event for F.E.A.S.T. that was sponsored by Stark Industries, and she accidentally wanders into a back area and overhears something she's not supposed to through a door. Tony Stark himself, venting on a phonecall to a friend about how the executive board is starting to put real pressure on him to marry if he's going to continue to lead SI-- the public is starting to lose faith in him as a good alpha when he refuses to settle down with a beta or omega and share in his gifts as a protector and provider, yadda yadda, and no matter how much he argues that he's being a protector and provider for the whole country through his work at SI they aren't letting up, and he doesn't even want kids and he doesn't want to saddle some poor omega with the burden of being Mr.-or-Mrs. Stark and everything that goes with that, and they're even implying considering a motion of no-confidence, and and and--

May stands there and listens, and thinks about how she doesn't know Tony Stark personally, but he's made the news before by actually hiring highly-educated omegas (from overseas, where that's permitted) for research positions at SI, and she knows that he funds multiple different charities for omegas in distress, and--

She doesn't like being a charity case, but she does have an omega in distress. So she prepares her speech in her head, and once Tony's off the phone she steps into the room with him and closes the door behind her, and she lays it all out.

She has an omega nephew who's infertile, and he's going to be turning 18 in only a few short years, and she already can barely afford to take care of the both of them even with the tax breaks from claiming him as a dependent. So when he turns 18, sooner or later he'll have to go to work, and being an infertile unwed omega with no prospects means that he'll be nothing more than a glorified prostitute in any position he's hired for, no matter what his supposed job title says. He has the skills to be the perfect househusband, or hell, even a lab assistant if Tony doesn't mind training him up a little, he's smart and he's as educated as May could make sure of, and fine, yeah, he's pretty. And he's on the brink of a life of misery, and May does not want that for him, to the point that she's willing to ask for help from an alpha that she doesn't know and has no reason to actually trust, but if what Tony needs is a sham marriage where he'll get to prove he actually does have all those necessary alpha instincts that make him a good leader, without the expectation or even the possibility of children--

Tony cuts her off eventually, initially disgusted that he's being offered some kind of child husband as a solution to his problems and that May's apparently willing to pawn her nephew off on the nearest rich scumbag, but May straightens her shoulders and makes it clear: she would continue to scrape by for Peter as long as possible, but a day is going to come when that's not going to work anymore, and as much as it hurts her to do, giving Peter away to someone that at least has an incentive to treat him well is the best option she has. She puts it back on Tony: she's only offering Peter to some rich scumbag if he is one, so is he? Or is he actually willing to put his money where his mouth is and protect an omega in need, and help himself out in the process?

Tony sends her away without answering, and she's deflated over it for all of a day, because the next day she gets a phonecall to arrange a first date.

Peter is nervous when May explains it to him and apologizes for arranging things without his input, but also thrilled, because one of the things that May left out when she was describing Peter to Tony was that Peter is huge fan of his. Even aside from the fact that marrying Tony might genuinely be an escape from a very grim future, having Tony Stark as a husband is just unbelievable to think about, after Peter had all but given up on the idea of getting to be married at all once his infertility was diagnosed. It might be nerve-wracking too, marrying someone over twice his age that he'll barely get a chance to know before the wedding, and Peter hopes and hopes that Tony is as good of an alpha as he seems to be from television and magazines, but-- he can't help but be excited.

So he meets Tony at the tower for a lunch date, and Peter does his best to present himself with perfect manners and deference and charm because he doesn't really know how to put his best foot forward otherwise-- Tony's rich enough to have staff for the cooking and cleaning and homecare even if Peter wasn't any good at it, and after you take that and minding any children out of the picture Peter doesn't really know what he has to offer as an omega. (Well, he does, but Tony's expression turns sour at even the slightest hint of flirtation, and Peter doesn't know whether to be relieved that Tony obviously isn't after him just for his capacity to take a knot or terrified that maybe Tony isn't interested in him at all.) But then Tony directs the conversation toward Peter's studies instead, and-- Peter leaves still feeling unsure over Tony's feelings, but during that part of the conversation Tony did at least perk up and ask a lot of questions and even smile, so that's something.

Their next meeting is more of a business meeting than anything, so May is a bigger part of the conversation than Peter is. She negotiates the potential marriage contract aggressively in Peter's favor, to a point that even Peter is shocked by-- they don't even have a dowry to offer, so their bargaining power is next to nothing-- but Tony just shrugs and accepts all of her conditions, and even makes suggestions that May and Peter don't think to ask for.

And after agreeing to draw up a contract that includes all of May's demands, Tony turns to Peter and explains exactly what being Mr. Peter Stark will involve-- the incessant gossip and prying into Tony and Peter's private life, including Peter's infertility, the criticism from the press on Peter's looks and clothing and behavior every time Peter goes out in public, the fact that a lot of the people Tony has to keep company with are not at all progressive about omegas and Tony will do his best to protect Peter from that, but shutting the bullshit down in the aftermath won't shield Peter from having to hear it in the first place, the fact that Peter might find himself lonely with the huge shift in class if his friends grow distant or fake once he has money, etc. etc.

He makes it clear that he wants to be absolutely sure that Peter knows what he's signing up for, and that Peter's really thought it through before anyone signs anything. And Peter is touched by the gesture, but of course none of that is anything near as bad as what he has waiting for him otherwise, so-- a week later the paperwork is finalized and signed, Peter has his first kiss in front of his aunt and Tony's closest friend, and he becomes Tony Stark's husband.

He's nervous but not scared when Tony takes him to his new home and gives him the tour. He hasn't known Tony long, and he's heard the horror stories of alphas that were sweet and adoring right up until the wedding night, but-- Tony had been so concerned about Peter's comfort when they were negotiating the contract, and it even included clauses that would allow Peter to leave him, with something called alimony, so Peter feels pretty secure in the thought that Tony will at least be gentle with him, if not actually-- passionate.

But then Tony leads him past the bedroom with nothing more than a quick peek and a, "This is my room; feel free to find me in here if you need me," and takes Peter to another room down the hall where he stops and says, "Here's yours. The movers got here earlier, so feel free to change things around if it's not set up how you want it, and I got some new things for you that you'll need."

The 'new things' turn out to be a collection of beautiful suits and dress shoes and other accessories, and not-- what Peter thought they might be-- and the room is fully set up and organized, Peter's trinkets and tech scraps sorted into tasteful bins or proudly displayed. Peter's twin bed from his apartment with May has been replaced by a queen, and that he was expecting, but the bedding is a close match to what he had before, and the whole thing gives the impression of a stylish update to his childhood bedroom.

He's flattered and touched and a little embarrassed-- the room doesn't exactly scream 'married man,' but he does love it, and it was such a sweet gesture on Tony's part-- but Tony brushes off his breathless thanks in favor of talking about their plans for tomorrow. Tony wants to take him shopping-- Peter can wear whatever he wants, Tony says, but he thought Peter might appreciate some new casual options now that he was married, and they can go back to the bespoke place that Tony had given his measurements to for the suits if Peter wants some more formal options as well-- and then maybe to lunch, as a low-key introduction of the new Mr. Peter Stark to the world before they start having to tackle galas and red carpets.

And Peter is beside himself with gratitude and awe at Tony's thoughtfulness, and rapidly losing even the expected jitter of first-time nerves the longer they talk, and he makes his smiles soft and shy and inviting as the conversation starts to wind down--

But then Tony just claps him awkwardly on the shoulder with a, "Well, good night," and goes off down the hallway to his bedroom, leaving Peter lingering confused and a little disappointed in his own doorway without even a kiss.

At first Peter thinks Tony is just being overly-conscientious of Peter's comfort, so he does his best to show Tony that he's perfectly comfortable and that he trusts Tony and he's ready without being overly suggestive about it-- he still remembers how Tony reacted when Peter tried to flirt with him on their date-- but three days into their honeymoon week, Peter has met several of Tony's friends and eaten in fabulous restaurants and bought enough new things to make his head spin, but he still hasn't even been scented, much less anything else.

So that third night, he takes a risk on the idea that Tony needs him to be more overt about communicating his comfort, and when Tony tells him good night Peter leans in for a kiss. Just something chaste, nothing that should put Tony's hackles up if he finds immodest omegas a turn-off-- but Tony actually puts a hand against his shoulder and leans away, and Peter's stomach drops to his feet.

"I'm sorry," Peter apologizes immediately, weakly, chilled to the bone by what he can only interpret as the disgust in Tony's expression. Tony-- Tony wasn't affectionate, but Peter had never thought for a second that Tony hated him; it didn't even make sense that Tony would hate him when he had been so kind. "I'm so sorry-- I didn't-- I thought--"

"No-- Peter, you're fine," Tony sighs, but he doesn’t drop his hand from Peter's shoulder, holding him firmly at a distance. "I'm not-- we're not doing that. Okay? It's nothing personal; you're just too young for me."

"But I'm your husband," Peter says blankly, not quite processing what that could possibly mean.

"I know, and the fact that that's even allowed is an absolute failure of our legal system," Tony says with a grimace, finally letting go of Peter but shifting back two steps. "Look, I'm-- did your aunt not talk to you about this? I'm going to be a good alpha for you, you can do whatever you want and I'll make sure you stay safe and you have whatever you need to be happy, but this is just an on-paper thing, kid. You don't have to put yourself out there to get abused by knothead alphas; I don't have to bring kids into this world to screw up; we both get to have society see us as a healthy pair of red-blooded Americans mated to a different designation just like god intended. You don't have to do anything for me that you don't want to."

And Peter had known that it was mostly political-- well, that it was all political; he doesn't kid himself for a moment that he actually has anything to offer Tony that the man seems to be interested in-- but he hadn't realized the extent to which they weren't even going to pretend. People got married for political reasons all the time, but they still made the best of it-- they were still affectionate, they were still intimate, they were still partners--

The words 'what about my heats' almost make their way out of Peter's mouth before he remembers to keep things focused on his alpha's needs, not his own, and he says, "What about your ruts?"

"I'll handle them the same way I have for the last thirty-something years of my life?" Tony shrugs, brushing the idea off like it's nothing, but he must see the lingering conflict in Peter's expression. He sighs, and awkwardly ventures, "And for your heats... You can handle them however you have been so far, or you can buy some toys, or-- hell, if you want to find a strapping young alpha to help you through them, that's fine with me."

Peter is horrified.

"You want me to cheat on you?"

But Tony is just as dismissive of that as everything else, and he just says, "There's no fidelity clause in our marriage contract."

Peter doesn't know how to feel. Being with Tony so far has felt like a dream, and this-- this is still so much better than the alternative, this sham half-relationship where he's apparently meant to be-- Tony's ward moreso than his actual partner, so he knows it's entitled, he knows he shouldn't say it and that he's still making out like a bandit regardless of Tony's answer and he shouldn't even expect anything else, but--

"Are you going to cheat on me?" he asks, voice tiny, and Tony goes still.

It takes him a long time to answer. Enough time that Peter has started trying to acclimate himself to that reality-- being one of those omegas that everyone looks at with pity and shakes their heads over, whose alphas come home every day smelling like someone else, and-- well, it wasn't like anyone had ever been going to believe that he was enough to keep a leash on Tony Stark anyway, so it's stupid to be upset about it; people were going to assume Tony was cheating on him whether it was true or not. He can deal with that. It's fine.

"No," Tony says finally, slowly. "I-- kid, I'm sorry, I thought you knew how this was going to work. But no, I'm not going to cheat on you. The whole point is for me to be a good alpha to you, not to make you miserable."

"What about me being a good omega to you?" Peter asks, pressing his luck; his knees are already weak with relief so he doesn't know why he can't keep his mouth shut and stop talking back, but he's just-- in shock.

Tony grimaces again, shaking his head, and says, "I don't need you to be a good omega to me, kid; I'm a grown man and I can take care of myself. What kind of person do you want to be? Do you want to-- study science and learn to build computers, do you want to design new LEGO sets, do you want to do music or travel the world or run charities like your aunt? Worry about that. Figure out what you want to do and tell me and we'll make it happen, but don't worry about me."

And it is a dream come true, being told he can be or do whatever he wants-- who said stuff like that, who let their omegas behave that way?-- but Peter is still stuck, because--

"What if I want to worry about you?"

"You don't," Tony says bluntly, such an abrupt shutdown that it doesn't even hurt. "You've just been told that's the only thing you're good for your entire life, so you think it's what you're supposed to do, but it's not true."

And Peter-- doesn't know whether to be offended, not that he could act on it even if he did. It is offensive, being told his own mind, but he can see that Tony's frustration is for him and not at him, and that this is Tony trying to-- be sweet, somehow, in his own way--

Tony says, "You have so many better things you could be doing than wandering around after me in case I need something, all right? I'm a big boy; I can get my own snacks and pick up my own socks. So let's figure out what your 'better things' are."

--And Peter is still utterly befuddled by it, and doesn't really understand what Tony is getting at with how he's been essentially groomed to be obedient/deferential and suppress his own needs in favor of his alpha's, and he's still nursing a little bit of hurt and disappointment and grief that Tony doesn't want him at all and that their marriage is nothing but a mask all the way down, but.

They spend the rest of their honeymoon week with Peter trying out different things and getting different experiences to see if he likes them, and by the time Tony goes back to work, Peter has a private tutor to help him get an education past the last level that was available to him as an unmarried omega, and his own workspace in the apartment for his tinkering, and a personal chaperone so that he can go to whatever museums or expos he wants with an extra layer of security beyond what just his wedding ring provides.

It works, even though it still chafes Peter a bit to be treated essentially as a foster child instead of a husband, especially when he's in heat and Tony tends to him like an alpha parent does for an omega child instead of like a lover, and especially when they travel overseas and Tony actually takes his wedding ring off and won't introduce Peter as his mate.

("I'm not trying to cheat on you, Pete; things are just different here," Tony explains, and Peter doesn't get it because everyone already knows that Tony Stark is married and who to, but-- things are different overseas, and it is a little bit thrilling to see omegas wandering around so freely, living whatever lives they want to lead, and Peter is too nervous to go exploring without Tony or Happy anyway but the idea that he could is incredible.)

But they fall into a routine, and Peter's still so grateful for getting to live a life alongside Tony even if it isn't exactly what he had pictured.

And then-- and here's why the "not going to actually write it" disclaimer, 3k words in, because that would allllllllllllllll just be set-up for:

Peter goes on a tour of the Osborn building as a part of his science education, and he's trying to get more comfortable with not needing a chaperone when he's out in public because maybe Tony will start treating him more like an adult if he tries to be more independent, so he doesn't stay put and wait while his tutor is in the bathroom, aaaaand he gets bit by a radioactive spider.

And as he's realizing in the aftermath how it's changed his body-- how he's strong now, stronger than any alpha, stronger than ten alphas-- he starts... thinking about things. About all those vigilantes he's heard of, out on the streets, putting themselves at risk to protect people. About how many times he's had to walk past omegas with black eyes and 'wedding rings' that they wore around their necks, his head lowered in vicarious shame. About how maybe-- if he was brave enough-- if he could shake off that nervousness that told him he needed a chaperone, that he was doing something wrong by being an omega out on his own--

So he does.

Tony bites his tongue about it when Peter starts going out on his own, because he's stressed to Peter over and over how he wants Peter to do whatever he wants, and he genuinely doesn't know where the line between 'controlling alpha' and 'responsible adult' is when he's married to a literal child, but he relaxes when Peter starts coming back bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and thriving with his new independence.

...Until he sees enough clips of this "Spider-man" that it piques his interest, and does enough research to figure out who it is.

He and Peter fight about it, which is wild and new because Peter never actually talks back to him, raised with those perfect omega manners, and only ever gently questions Tony during those moments where all Tony's doing is trying not to treat him like a piece of property.

But Peter throws all of that back in his face now, arguing that Tony is the one who always says that Peter should do what makes him happy, he should do whatever he wants, and he shouldn't base his entire life around what he thinks Tony wants because he's his own person, and this makes him happy, this is the 'better thing' that he can be making of his life if Tony's not going to give him the dignity of at least pretending he has any value as a husband--

And Tony doesn't know how to argue about it, because he has said all those things, but Peter is also a child and it's not right for him to be throwing himself around putting himself in danger like that, and-- and also he didn't know Peter was so fucking bitter about Tony not treating him as an actual spouse, and he hates that for Peter because it's not going to change anytime soon but it's also fascinating, somehow, to hear Peter be sharp with him after nearly a year of nothing but polite deference--

He rubs a hand over his face and says, "Pete, if any of those alpha criminals get their hands on you--"

And Peter takes a liberty he's never taken before-- he hasn't tried to touch Tony on his own initiative at all since that failed attempt at a kiss, except to shrink against his side when he was uncomfortable in public-- and takes Tony's wrists gently in hand and walks him back until Tony's pinned to the wall without a single hint of strain, and he just says, "Try."

He's not mean or even condescending about it, instead watching Tony with a plaintive plea for Tony to understand. So Tony accepts the challenge, and-- he's seen the videos, he did know how fucking strong Peter had to be to do those things, but it's not until he's struggled fruitlessly against Peter's grip to the point that he's breathless with it that it really, truly sinks in.

So then he's standing there, red-faced and panting and pinned to the wall by Peter's unfaltering grip around his wrists, and he registers the way that Peter's expression has changed, all dark-eyed and flushed even though holding Tony in place clearly wasn't a strain for him at all, and he registers how close they're standing to each other, and he registers how heavy Peter's scent is in the air, all warm honey sweetness--

And he says, "All right, fine, you win," because he suddenly needs to not be having this conversation anymore.

He does take some steps, though. He builds Peter a better suit, and he loads it with an AI to take care of him and to alert Tony if Peter starts getting in over his head. And Peter accepts it with genuine gratitude, and it helps Tony feel a little better, but-- Peter gets hit so hard sometimes, and there are so many situations where Tony wouldn't even have time to intervene before Peter could be critically injured or even dead on the spot, and Tony doesn't honestly know what he thinks he would be able to do about it if Peter did get in over his head, it's not like he has super powers--

But then he gets to thinking, and in all honesty, it's not like he needs actual superpowers, is it? When he could just build himself something. Something that would let him actually help Peter while he was out there, fighting for the good of a world that would've thrown him to the wolves in half a second if Tony hadn't intervened, if May Parker hadn't had the strength to ask for help-- and if for some reason Peter seems to hate it when Tony actually speaks into his heroing, like it's some kind of insult that Tony wants him to be safe, maybe he'll accept some help from someone else--

Peter doesn't know what to think of Iron Man when he comes on the scene, at first. It's a little irritating how often he tries to tell Peter to hang back, when he clearly doesn't even have the same amount of experience that Peter does, but it's not too long before Iron Man's deferring to Peter instead, and then it's not too long after that that they become a pretty good team. And once Iron Man learns to treat him as an equal, Peter finds that he's funny and thoughtful and sweet, and he tells Peter whatever he wants to know about how the armor works, and--

Peter has never for a second actually considered exploiting the lack of an infidelity clause in his and Tony's marriage contract. But there is something a little-- addictive, about having the respect and attention of this brilliant armor-clad alpha, when his actual alpha still treats him like a child, and he starts... thinking.

And Tony has never for a second actually thought of Peter as an actual mate. He's too young; that would be-- disgusting. But-- Peter's almost an entirely different person in the suit, or maybe he's just an entirely different person when he's not with Tony-- his alpha-- because Spider-man is all sass and vinegar and unyielding strength of character, and Tony wishes that Peter would bring some of that home with him instead of the return of his unending soft-spoken deferential politeness, because if he did--

If he did--

On second thought, Tony's not going to think about it.

#starker #half-baked ideas #quasific

[theboywithburninghands]

Hey guys, here’s the next chapter of my Arranged Marriage Funnybunny AU. Hope you enjoy it. It’s a bit short but I love it, especially the first half. Oh yeah and uh @fernstarsblog your tag as always

T/W: Era appropriate sexism (just in case), implied vomit

Primum Peccatum Ch. 4: Hit The Road, Jax

The next day, life resumed as normal. Or at least, a reasonable facsimile of normal.

Vladimir and Mirella were sated by Pomni’s assertions that she was charmed by Jax Krolik upon meeting him, and thus had a change of heart. There were a few “I told you so’s” and apologies issued by both sides. Pomni truly did feel awful about the words she had spoken to her parents, especially her mother, but it seemed that those ugly feelings were muted by excitement about the coming ceremonies.

Pomni’s mother drafted about a dozen letters to all of her relatives, most of them for her Silurian cousins that lived in the sprawling burg of Angel’s Peak in Telychia. Mirella always expressed a desire to holiday in Angel’s Peak, but Vladimir turned her down each time, claiming it wasn't worth the onerous process of renewing their papers. Pomni was always secretly grateful for this, since a city that size would surely send her into hysterics with its overabundance of people and noise.

Vladimir, who had considerably less living family to worry about, had taken to completing all the necessary paperwork for the wedding. Predominantly monetary matters that required careful scrutiny, inheritances, the dowry and the like, but also billing and housing concerns for the construction team that were building Pomni and Jax’s manor on the other side of Primum Peccatum.

As for Pomni, she spent the morning pondering. This Jax Krolik seemed genuine enough in his assertions that the wedding would be a formality and nothing more. As he had stated yesterday, had he been more inclined to have Pomni fill the role of housewife, there was little Pomni could do to stop him. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the beastman was hiding something behind that Cheshire smile.

Perhaps that was prejudiced of her. She should give Mr. Krolik the benefit of the doubt at least. It was a dreadful stereotype that beastfolk had hidden, malevolent intent behind their actions. This generalization was only furthered by the inane propaganda that walnut-brained politicians and mad street evangelicals spewed, fantasies about beastfolk eating human flesh in secret or stealing human babies from their cribs.

Pomni, now restless, left her bedroom, and after her father turned down her assistance with the paperwork, she decided to go and visit Mr. Kinger.

Kinger Rooker was a 48-year-old shapeman who resembled a king chess-piece that lived in the manor neighboring The Shutnyk estate. He had a wife for some years, a shapewoman with the visage of a queen chess-piece, appropriately enough named Queenie. She had passed away in her sleep when Pomni was only four, something about not getting enough minerals, an essential part of any shapeperson’s diet. The Rookers earned their fortune through the publication of various encyclopedias and almanacs, the most famous and successful of which was The Essential Encyclopedia of New Hirnantian Insects, which could be found in just about every library in the country and was a must-own for any aspiring entomologist. Pomni had read the book cover to cover multiple times now, and she hardly considered herself interested in insects.

Kinger refused to remarry and had no children, and was content living out the rest of his days as a widower, preferring to donate his fortune to the state upon his death. But, despite his solitude, he had become close friends with Pomni and her family over the years, as the young Ms. Shutnyk often ran into Kinger in the midst of bug collecting when she went out exploring the pine forests of Primum Peccatum. He had been over to the Shutnyks’ for dinner just about every winter solstice.

Pomni’s most distinct memory of these holiday visits was when she was five years old. Before eating his plate of spaghetti carbonara, she saw Kinger sprinkle some sand onto his food from a small bottle, and eat it no issue. She wasn’t allowed to speak unless spoken to at the table, so hadn’t the chance to ask why he did that. When her parents took her shell hunting on the island’s coast a few days later, she grabbed a handful of white sand off the beach and tried some for herself. She learned a valuable lesson about the difference between humans’ and shapefolk’s dietary needs that day.

Pomni walked over to the Rooker estate, thankful to be wearing a plain black dress and her usual sunhat instead of that gaudy red thing her mother put her in yesterday. It was a sunny day, the sky full of feathery clouds, and the breeze was cool. Pomni intended on telling Mr. Kinger that she was going to be married soon, and would be moving to the other side of the island. But this was by no means goodbye, as she would visit him frequently. She pondered telling Kinger about the plan she and her “fiancé” had hatched the previous afternoon, but thought better of it. Kinger was by no means a quisling, but he did tend to blurt out whatever was on his mind. So best not.

Pomni turned off of the dirt road onto the brick path leading to The Rooker Estate. His front garden had gone to seed, taken over by enormous weeds nearly two decades ago. If she had more of mind for gardening, Pomni might have offered to pull up the weeds and start a real garden for Kinger, but she knew Kinger wouldn’t look after it. His heart lay with insects.

She tapped the toes of her pumps on the bottommost stone step of Kinger’s front porch, chasing off any dirt that clung to their soles, and rapped on the door with the tarnished brass knocker.

“Mr. Kinger! It’s Pomni Shutnyk, I have an… important development to share with you!”

A voice from inside sounded out.

“Ms. Shutnyk! Good heavens, it’s been ages! Come in, the door is open!”

Pomni couldn’t help but smile a little. They had seen each other the previous weekend. The old codger’s memory could be spotty. Her father was around the same age as Kinger, but his mind was still quite sharp. Pomni suspected that the memory issues had something to do with grief. She pressed down on the handle with her thumb and opened the door.

The best way to describe Kinger’s manor was organized chaos. Most every surface was covered in papers of all sorts, postage, scraps of writing, files of important documents, diagrams detailing the anatomy of insects or other animals. The only completely bare surfaces in the foyer were the steps leading to the second floor and the mud mat, where Pomni sat and took her shoes off. It was dusty, certainly, but there was no rubbish or moldy food or pest droppings. Pomni was fairly certain that she could ask Kinger to find a sketch of a certain kind of beetle that he made 17 years ago, and he would be able to find it amid the mountains of parchment.

Pomni coughed politely. She was lucky enough to avoid inheriting her father's beastly dust allergy, but this much dust did irritate her throat somewhat. She took her sunhat off and placed it upon one of the document stacks by the door, clearing her throat.

“Come to the kitchen, Ms. Shutnyk!” Kinger called out. The kitchen was where Pomni had most of her chats with Mr. Kinger, as he had converted the dining room into his office after converting his office into his insect habitat. Pomni carefully walked over the stacks of paper into the kitchen.

The kitchen probably had the most free space in the entire manor, enough room on the counters and stove top for preparing and cooking food, and the end two-seated end table was always unoccupied, for eating a meal or enjoying a cup of tea. That didn’t stop the clutter entirely, however, as by the door to the dining room, a few stacks of paper that hadn’t quite fit on the dining room table or in any of the other designated storage spaces, sat on either side

Kinger sat in one of the end table chairs in his usual purple nightgown with mink, raising his usual cup of plain Permian red tea.

“We were just talking about you, Ms. Shutnyk.”

“We-?”

Pomni froze mid step. In the other chair sat a purple rabbit in a gray waistcoat, lighter gray trousers and black socks, with a crimson ascot just below his chin. Surprise flashed for a moment in his yellow eyes, before his wide, toothy smile spread across his face.

“Well if it isn’t my fiancée!” he declared, raising one hand skyward and keeping the other on his teacup. “Yes, I was just telling Mr. Rooker about our meeting yesterday afternoon!”

Pomni blinked her eyes, both from irritation and the fact that she was still reeling from shock.

“Mr.- Mr. Krolik. What a… what an unexpected surprise!”

“Surprises do tend to be unexpected.” Jax replied evenly, sipping his tea.

“And what, may I ask, motivated you to visit The Rooker Estate? Not one day after we met at my home?” Pomni asked through clenched teeth.

“Visit? Oh, I’m not simply visiting, dearest.” Jax said.

Kinger nodded. “Jax here is renting the guest room. I forgot I had left the lease open, but he’s already given me a month’s rent. In cash!”

Kinger picked up a small bag of crowns tied off with red string off the table. The coins jingled.

“That’s… Would you excuse us for one moment?”

Pomni grabbed Jax by the hand and marched him into the foyer. His glove was damp with sweat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed once they were safely out of earshot. “This was NOT part of the agreement.”

“If I recall, the agreement was ‘I was to leave your house and not return until the day of the ceremony.’ This isn’t your house. In fact, you’re the one who arrived here uninvited.” Jax said.

“You moved into my next door neighbor’s spare room! I knew you weren’t to be trusted..!”

Jax, still holding Pomni’s hand, lightly tugged her wrist so she focused back on him.

“Pomni. If this ruse is going to work, we have to actually appear infatuated. Would you not think it a little suspicious if we both spent the next few weeks avoiding each other?”

Pomni chewed her lip. He… made a valid point. She was never particularly skilled at pretending she was interested in something. If it bored her, it bored her, and no amount of reprimanding from her parents could make her convincingly play-act interest. So perhaps this was for the better…

“Could you please let go of my hand? Your glove is… extremely sweaty.”

Jax looked down. He did still have his hand over hers.

“This outfit isn’t exactly breathable. And if I’m not mistaken, it was you who grabbed hold of me, n’est ce pas?”

He relinquished his grip either way. Pomni wiped the perspiration off on her dress, looking rather ill.

“You really want to live here just to maintain a charade? Wouldn’t you rather stay at an inn?”

“Prolonged stays at inns are costly. Here, I get my own room for a meager fee.” Jax said, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket. “Besides, I quite enjoy Mr. Rooker’s company.”

“He is a charming gentleman…” Pomni agreed. “But please, Mr. Krolik. He is not a sideshow, he- are you quite alright?”

Jax pressed the hand that was just entwined with Pomni’s against his abdomen. His yellow eyes had grown wide and staring. His gaze flicked to Pomni and he managed another, considerably weaker smile.

“Pardon me. I’ve been battling dyspepsia for a while, I- HURK!”

Jax put a hand to his mouth and hurried up the stairs, ducking upstairs towards the lavatory.

Pomni looked up the dusty stairs for a moment before sighing. “Ah… I suddenly have no more desire for company.” She called out. “Mr. Kinger? I’ll be back later, I just realized that I have an urgent errand that requires my attention.”

“Very well, my dear, but do come back soon!” Mr. Rooker replied.

Truthfully, she did feel quite peccant for leaving Mr. Kinger with Jax, but… truthfully, once her sanctuaries had been breached, she had little desire to remain in them. She would have to invite Mr. Kinger over to her house as an apology, even if that did go against her typical routine…

“Farewell! And… farewell, ‘darling.’” she drawled. Jax did not reply. She picked up her sunhat, shaking any dust from it, and slid her shoes back on before exiting the manor, profoundly unsatisfied.

As she walked down the weedy path back towards her manor, a shapeman with an enormous set of dentures for a head in an impeccable red suit jacket, black pants and white gloves, stepped out from inside the manor. He had not a speck of dust on his clothes. He pulled a silver pocketwatch out of his jacket, examining it. There were no needles on the face of the clock, nor numbers.

“Hm… yes. I believe this will be fine.”

He snapped the watch closed, walking back into the manor. The door drifted closed behind him, certainly caused by an errant breeze.

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #arranged marriage au #tadc pomni #tadc jax #oh no cringe #jax x pomni #tadc kinger #tadc caine

[gregorovitch-adler]

Hi there! I was wondering what your thoughts are on ACD Watson's wives. First of all, I know nothing about the marriage traditions or laws in Victorian England but it seems weird to me that he kept remarrying because I guess his wives kept passing away? I mean he didn't/couldn't divorce them back them, right?

He didn't do very well with his private practice from what I've gathered. How come he could afford remarrying all the time. Also in my culture (East Asian), if a person's spouses kept dying, the matchmaker would refuse service because that person would be considered a curse.

Thank you and have a great day!

Hi!

Your questions are pretty interesting. As a South-East Asian, I can understand how people would frown at the person whose spouses kept passing away. There must be quite a few similarities in our cultures, even if we're not from the same country/region.

1.) A simple, detached answer would be that Arthur Conan Doyle was not the best person when it came to keeping his stories consistent, especially on the character-related details.

He might've wanted to tell us that Watson got married, but probably he didn't want Watson's marriage to keep him from assisting Holmes with his cases, and that's why everything about Watson's married life and wives is so skewed.

He wasn't even consistent about the location of Watson's gunshot wound in A Study in Scarlet. Initially, Watson was shot in the subclavian artery of the left side. But on the next page, the wound location has been shifted to his leg? This is just one of the many examples of Doyle's inconsistencies in his stories.

Maybe he didn't check that Mary Morstan had died sometime during one of his stories. Anything is possible.

2.) Another version of the answer (which is heavily filled with Holmes/Watson shipping): Watson was an unreliable narrator and didn't want any unwanted attention of the general public drawn towards the nature of the relationship he had with Sherlock Holmes. That's why Watson was so inconsistent in the stories that he published in The Strand magazine. I believe there's a reason Watson describes Holmes as cold and calculating at some points, but goes on to describe the incidents where Holmes was undoubtedly kind to someone at other points of the stories. I even wrote a meta about it here .

The fanon version is that Watson wanted to avoid the risk of being arrested on the grounds of gross indecency, and so he made up a wife - or even several wives - to cover it up.

I mostly agree with this theory, because otherwise, Watson (who's married by the timeline of The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes) going away with Holmes to Switzerland, and even sharing a room with him would be pretty weird and not exactly plausible, I don't think his first wife, Mary Morstan, is an imaginary character. But it's very much possible that her marriage to Watson was just a ruse to hide from the prying eyes of the public.

If we strictly talk about canon, then Watson marries Mary Morstan in The Sign of the Four, then she probably passes away by the time of The Return of Sherlock Holmes short-story collection (the jury is still out on that one - again, because of Doyle's inconsistencies), then Watson starts living with Holmes again as a bachelor for a long time. Then by the time of Casebook of Sherlock Holmes, his wife is brought up again.

Either it was another case of Doyle's inconsistencies, or Watson remarried sometime off-stage. (Though I think Doyle would've at least made a passing reference to Watson's remarriage, him being the POV character in most of the stories and all... idk.)

From what I've gathered after reading all the stories, Watson seemed to have only two wives at different points of time. Mary Morstan and another unnamed one in Casebook.

From the first-hand experience of reading those stories, I don't think Watson having multiple wives is a canonical thing. That's also a part of fan-interpretation. It's because the physical description of Watson's wife/ wives kept changing every time she was mentioned in any stories because of the lack of consistency in the whole narration. That's how it seemed to me when I read the stories. Though I've gone through them all only once, which means I could be wrong about this bit of detail in particular.

Still, Watson didn't seem to have numerous wives in canon to me. Just two.

And yes, you're right. Watson wasn't well-off even with his private practice. The fact that he was able to afford to remarry so many times (if he ever did) is quite odd.

Then there comes the social stigma behind divorce/remarriage. I'm not that familiar with the marriage traditions in Victorian England either, but I don't think people worldwide were so free and open-minded about the topic of divorce in general. Things have advanced in Western countries nowadays, but the social aspect of all this must have been quite different in the Victorian era. So, you're right about that thing too.

Tl;dr: There is no specific answer to your question, because the author of the original stories didn't bother to keep his details intact. They kept changing in canon, so you're free to believe whatever you want to. Because, as you said, the fact that Watson keeps remarrying all the time doesn't add up with his financial condition along with the societal conditions in that era.

So, everything is just open for interpretation here.

I personally believe that Watson only had one wife - Mary Morstan - whom he had a lavender marriage with (a fake marriage for the sake of society). I know this isn't canonical either, but what actually is canonical - well, nobody has a definite answer to that question.

I hope you find my answer satisfactory, because your ask was rather interesting.

Thanks.

#asks #anonymous #acd canon #john watson #holmes/watson #sherlock holmes #acd johnlock #the mysterious case of Watson's wives #Doyle's inconsistencies #arthur conan doyle #canonical discussion #meta #sort of #johnlock

[yanderehsr]

Hello! I hope im not late for he event ahaha, please forgive my bad english, its not my first language and congratulations on 1k! :D

My oc is called Atalai,Male, 23

Looks: He is a 7'2 male, with tan skin, long dark brown hair tied in a low pony tail and black eyes. He is muscular, has bull horns and tail and has a a scar running down his cheek and abother crossing his nose bridge.

Personality: He's outgoing and very kind, he is mostly friendly but he isn't naive. He is mostly calm and collected but sometimes he is quick to anger and isn't afraid of starting a fight, he likes to help people and doens't like to be fooled or tricked.

Backstory: He grew up as an orphan in Snezhnaya, and would take any job to survive, thanks to this he was able to travel other nations since young until two kind ladies took him in so he became some sort of famer assistant. he started to see them as his big sisters and he loves them a lot, being the two most important people in his life. As he grew older he started to be some type of traveler, doing any work in any nation to pay back his "Big Sisters" since he wants to give them a easier life. He learned how to fight thanks to the multiple robs he had to face at night, he uses a type of claymore that he can divide in two to turn it into dual swords, he does like the thrill of fight and hunt but he doesn't fight or hunt unless necessary.

For the yandere could i have either Zhongli, Lumine, ningguang, or Diluc please? Any of these four is fine :D

Thank you a lot and feel free to ignore if i broke any rules!

Sure, thanks for the request, Hope you'll enjoy😁

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

Diluc: At first he is suspicious of Atalai, just like he is with anyone from Snezhnaya, it will take Diluc some time to trust him, let alone fall for him but when he falls, oh boy he falls hard, Snezhnaya doesn't deserve Atalai, his sisters doesn't deserve him, hell not even Diluc sees himself as worthy, but he sees himself as the only one that can protect him.

Diluc doesn't care how strong Atalai is, in the end he is mortal, and like any mortal he can die, so he needs to be shielded. Diluc isn't afraid of fighting him either if it's to kidnap him, sure Atalai may become a bit... burnt but Diluc doesn't mind.

"Stop being so stubborn, you are safer here then you ever was in Snezhnaya, so stop fighting it and accept that your place is by MY side"

Ningguang: She herself is from humble origins so she fells a bit connected with Atalai concerning that, but what she really falls for is his kindness as cheezy as that sounds, the fact that he can stay kind yet not naive is something she admires and she falls for, she wants him and what she wants, she gets.

Ningguang has an idea how to get him to come willingly with her, she wants to be the one in control of this relationship, at first Ningguang will try to buy him off, she can support his sisters financially, if he really wants whats best for them then he'll accept, if for some reason he refuses, well she isn't above threatening them, she has hired assassins and the second she gives the word they will die, she does all this so she can own Atalai, he is hers, he has no option in this.

"The clock is ticking, tell me your choice before I lose my patience, be mine and I'll make sure no harm comes to them"

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere male #yandere female #yandere diluc #yandere diluc x reader #yandere ningguang #yandere ningguang x reader #oc #oc x canon #oc x character event

[sassyfrassboss]

List of their wrongdoings from 2017-2019:

Meghan releasing her Vanity Fair cover while Charles was on tour.

Meghan crashing Pippa's wedding with Harry's help.

Meghan talking over Kate and glaring at her at the Fab Four Forum.

Harry demanding "what Meghan wants Meghan gets."

Meghan making Kate and Charlotte cry.

Meghan commenting on Kate's "baby brain."

Meghan being so rude at Prince Charles' birthday garden party they were asked to leave.

Megan insulting the pro-life Irish.

Meghan ignoring a child who was trying to get her attention.

Meghan showing her camisole at Harry's friends wedding for merch money.

Meghan announcing her pregnancy at Eugenie's wedding.

Meghan yelling at the Governor General's wife in Australia.

Meghan making sure to stand apart so she can easily crop the photo later.

Meghan making her staff cry while on tour.

Meghan throwing a cup of hot tea at her assistant.

Meghan leaving the market after 10 minutes because of her own ego.

Meghan failing to properly curtsy the Princess of Tonga.

Meghan refusing to let go of Harry's hand so he can properly greet the Princess of Tonga.

Meghan forgetting and then turning around to curtsy to the King and Queen of Tonga.

Meghan using the AUS tour to make $$$ off of merching. Harry too...

Harry coming back from the tour and bragging to everyone how they are the better royals and everyone is jelly of them.

Meghan crying because she was mad she was not on the main balcony during the Remembrance Day parade.

Meghan starting the Rose and William rumor.

Meghan's $300k baby shower and the cost payers for her security.

Meghan refusing to follow protocol on the Morocco tour and walking ahead of Harry to greet the King.

Meghan refusing the dates offered.

Meghan forgetting to say goodbye to the Prince of Morocco and having to turn around.

Meghan making multiple surprise appearances on days when Kate had important engagements.

Meghan purposely wearing the same color as Kate on such surprise engagements.

Meghan forcing Harry to leave the departing line early of the Commonwealth Service.

Meghan going breaking protocol and going ahead of Harry in the departing line of the Commonwealth Service.

Harry for allowing Meghan to force him to stop talking and leave the guests in the departing line.

Meghan and Harry for being rude to the guests of The Queen.

Harry and Meghan for refusing to use the correct titles for the Wales kids on social media for their birthdays.

Meghan and Harry for lying about the details of Archie's birth making the BRF look like idiots.

Megan and Harry for naming their son Archie and stealing Prince George's nickname.

Meghan for crashing the polo match were she made sure to get in photos with Kate in the kids but refused to have anything to do with them.

Meghan for clearing out an entire section at Wimbledon.

Harry asking the president of Disney for a job for Meghan at the Lion King premiere.

Harry and Meghan for taking tons of private jets in just a matter of days.

Harry and Meghan for refusing to go to Balmoral for the family weekend and instead going to the South of France.

Harry and Meghan using taxpayer money for their lifestyle but refusing to announce Archie's godparents.

Harry and Meghan lying that Archie was too small to go to Balmoral but took him to the South of France.

Harry for lecturing about climate change but using private jets all the time claiming it was for safety reasons.

Meghan for lying to the palace about her Vogue edition.

Meghan leaving the Smartworks event early because of "feed time."

Harry and Meghan turning the SA Tour into a pity party for themselves.

Harry and Meghan for filming a documentary that was supposed to be about the tour and they made it all about themselves.

Harry and Meghan insulting the Muslim family who cooked for them by not eating anything.

Meghan by not dressing appropriately in the mosque.

Meghan complaining that no one had asked her if she was okay and then we later found out she expected special treatment during her pregnancy but afforded none to Kate.

Harry talking about his relationship with William during the SA tour.

Harry and Meghan for suing the UK press.

Harry crying at the Wellchild awards about how lucky he is to have a healthy baby while in front of kids who are dying.

Harry and Meghan for trying to torpedo William and Catherine's Pakistan Tour.

Meghan and Harry for taking attention away from Remembrance with their own plans.

Harry and Meghan for staying in a house owned by a Russian with shady connections.

Harry and Meghan for making Canadians pay for their security.

Harry and Meghan for releasing their Christmas card to overshadow the royals on 12/23.

Meghan for leaking to Omid about Megxit right after Christmas so the focus was on Harry and her the rest of the year.

These are just off the top of my head.

Also does not include all the leaking THEY did against the family or the time the purposely did things to overshadow.

If I have missed something please feel free to add.

[enforcerrinzler]

/* not specifically one of the prompts from the captured meme, but inspired by it... Hope this works? --@not-that-dillinger */

Coming here turned out to be the worst of Ed's impulsive ideas, to date. Picking the lock on Flynn's arcade to go exploring? Bad impulsive decision number one. Sure, that was technically trespassing, but he was just looking around, no harm there, and that part of town had long since been abandoned, it wasn't like he was going to get caught.

In hindsight, getting caught there might have been the better outcome. Then he wouldn't have found the hidden basement, or The Computer. (And oh, wasn't that creepy. He still remembered his father's disembodied voice coming out of it. He'd had nightmares of it clear through middle school, he did not need that again.) He should have turned around and gone home, or to a bar or somewhere a reasonable person would go after a long day at the office, but no. Bad impulse decision number two: hacking into Flynn's computer. Again, technically illegal, but. Maybe he cold solve the mystery of where Flynn had disappeared to?

...And that had led directly to bad impulse decision number three: shooting himself with a high powered laser.

To his credit, Ed knew what the laser was. His father had ranted and raved about it in what seemed like fits of madness when Ed was young. But. Yeah, could have gone way worse.

Naturally, Ed's first instinct on finding himself in a strange new world was to go explore. He was used to being cautious, aware of his surroundings when he was out, and quickly realized someone was following him. He tried to lose them in the not-so-dark alleys of the glowing city, taking turns at random until--

--he'd turned a corner and came face to face with five others, all wearing masks, and realized he'd walked right into their trap. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was one of the programs throwing something small and round at him, and the thick white smoke it emitted.

...

He awoke in a cell, some time later. At first, he tried to just... sit and observe, figure out where he was, and who had captured him, and why.

Except, there wasn't much beyond the two guards posted at the end of the connecting hallway, and it didn't take long before his claustrophobia made him feel anxious.

"Hey!" he screamed at the guards. "Let me out!!!"

The guard made a gesture that Ed couldn't quite see, but could safely assume was rude.

Ed continued to scream at the guards, because there wasn't much else he could do. He may have been trapped, but they also stuck with him.

Except it turned out, the guards could do something about that, and one of them marched over opened the cell, and--

--Oh. They had staves.

Ed lay in his cell, some time later, out of breath and everything aching. He was certain he had a cracked rib, if not more. And a broken nose from the way it was bleeding.

And broken glasses.

It was some time later that Ed heard footsteps approaching his cell. Everything still hurt, but he hauled himself to his feet anyway. "Come back for round two, asshole?" he asked.

In response, the guard disabled the force field that enabled his cell, and shoved someone else inside.

Then they reactivated the force field, and walked away.

Ed sighed, and sank back down in his corner heavily. He eyed the blur of his fellow prisoner warily.

Rinzler hit the ground hard, barely managing to cover his helmet with his arms to avoid it getting even more damaged. One of the guards had decided to use Rinzler’s helmet as an emotional outlet after he had gotten a nasty hit in on one of them. Any assistive programming in their helmet was completely offline and the glass had multiple cracks with a few bits missing from the back as well.

Usually, Rinzler would have turned and grabbed the guard’s ankle before they could leave. Would have tackled the program and forced them to guide him to the exit or derezzed them with his claws if the guard refused. But it wasn’t just a shattered helmet and pounding head that was keeping Rinzler down. His captors had latched a bizarre mechanism over his disc and dock that made his whole body ache and every move just seemed to make the mechanism dig in even more. It was frustrating and humiliating beyond belief to be thrown into this cell like a helpless beta, they were supposed to be better than this. Not to fall for some poor young program that had been forced to act as bait. They should have seen through it. Rinzler swore to themself that they would derezz every single one of those who had done this.

When the blurry room finally stopped spinning Rinzler was just able to focus enough to hear the sound of ragged breathing above his own broken clicking purr. He wasn’t alone. The Enforcer looked up towards the sound, spying the blurry figure. They couldn’t see any bit of light on the figure that could indicate their alliance, in fact they couldn’t see any circuitry at all.

“Identify, program.” Rinzler shakily pushed himself up into a sitting position, keeping his gaze on the figure in case this was just another trap.

@not-that-dillinger

#initializing system… #File Five #not-that-dillinger #ic #// a this is great! I’m so excited for Ed and Rinz to meet! #Rinlzer 🤝 Ed: Shitty vision and not having a good time

[cinnamonest]

for the interaction requests (hope I'm doing this right!) Xiao + "Xiao, will you please take me outside? Please, please, please? I want to feel grass and see wildflowers and dip my feet in a stream. I miss the world."

Bless you anon my sweet boy

Also sorry if it's not quite right but I took it to be in like a whiny tone bc I love whiny darlings

---------

You didn't like the silence that followed. It told you, if nothing else, that your request was not going to be met with an immediate agreement. Not that you were expecting immediate agreement, but it was frustrating nonetheless.

You couldn't see his face, your back was pressed to his chest where you lay in bed, and even so, it was far too dark in this tiny, dreary room to see much anyway.

But he sat up nonetheless, looking down at you. You couldn't make out any displeasure, more of a neutral expression, which was a good start, you supposed. It wasn't that slight frown and narrowed eyes that usually indicated your request was outright upsetting. He looked downward, to the side, eyes avoiding contact with yours.

"I can make you a stream. In here."

You clenched your jaw. It was more or less the answer you were anticipating, and you certainly weren't expecting to have your wish granted, but you still had some hope there would be some consideration, that it wouldn't be met with immediate refusal or attempt to negotiate into something less.

You inhaled. Exhaled. Long and deep.

"I mean outside. The real world. Not the yard out there."

The abode had a brief grassy patch that surrounded this concrete slab of a room, but it was largely devoid of anything but dull grass that felt artificial to the touch, lacked moisture and sleekness. That was, on the very rare occasion you were even allowed to venture there. From what you understood, landforms of various kinds could be added and modified at will with the assistance of some spirit or another, so a stream was likely well within the realm of possibility. Still, you imagined it would have the same feeling of inauthenticity, and really, part of it was a matter of principle. You wanted to go outside, and seeing as you felt there was no reason why you shouldn't be able to, a familiar irritated persistence took hold.

"That wouldn't be any different from one I can have created in here," he replied. "I can get all of those things. You don't need to leave."

You huffed, letting your arm drape over your face, forearm covering your eyes. "It's different."

Your voice was a whine. You knew better than to do this, really. There was no need to start an inevitable conflict. Reasonably, you should just let it go, drop the matter entirely. But the frustration was simply too unbearable. It followed a pattern, frustration would build up over multiple incidents, until you finally caved to it, usually at inopportune moments.

The initial question created a tension in the tranquility, but the raise in volume and the change in your tone began to escalate that tension. It always did. Likewise, you could hear a rising frustration in his own voice, a shift in tone, beginning to get irritated and defensive.

"How?"

"The air is different," you grumbled. "Fresh air is..." You made a circular gesture with your other wrist, "special. Nothing feels the same. I can tell the difference."

"That's all in your head." He was quick to respond. "It is no different from the water and air in here."

Your fingers curled, you raised your arm just enough to show your eyes to look directly at him. "Would it really be that hard to just take me out? For five minutes? You can watch me. You could literally stand right there the whole time."

He folded his arms, eyes narrowing. His voice was a bit quieter as he responded. "We have been over this before. You already proved yourself untrustworthy with such an opportunity." His voice carried a tone of irritation and resentment, no doubt from thinking of the incident in question.

You exhaled another long, frustrated breath. It was true that you had had one prior opportunity, and essentially ruined it. It was early on, and looking back, you felt incredibly stupid for trying such a weak plan.

You'd reached a compromise and gone out into the wilderness, far away from any other humans, but conveniently an area where you thought you might be able to hide yourself within the nearby trees. You'd tried the only strategy you could think of. You had pulled, and he had actually fallen for, the 'what's that thing over there?' trick. He had turned to the direction you pointed in, taking a moment, responding with a 'what thing?' only to turn back and realize you had taken the momentary opportunity to run off. Not that you got very far, soon tackled to the ground in less than a minute, and immediately dragged back.

Predictably, the incident had been a sore subject ever since its occurrence (no doubt largely due to it being your default target for teasing and mocking when you felt like it), and it had been the first and last time you were ever allowed back into the real world.

You opened your mouth, but hesitated. You could feel an increasing tension. It was obvious you would not get what you wanted, and you knew that persisting beyond this point would do nothing but make both of you more upset.

You clamped your jaw shut, swallowed your frustration, and rolled over onto your stomach. Your voice was muffled as you spoke.

"Fine. Forget I asked."

A few more seconds passed in silence. There was a heavy weight to the quiet.

He sighed. "You can have what you want. You've merely convinced yourself to be discontent with anything less than your terms because you are stubborn."

But that alone broke your resolution to end the matter peacefully. The sentence made a burst of anger flare up in your chest. You bolted upright.

"Oh, I'm stubborn?" You couldn't help the raised volume to your voice, the way your eyes narrowed and your features contorted with annoyance. "You're calling me stubborn?"

His eyes widened, shifting slightly away from your outburst. His expression almost seemed surprised, as if genuinely caught off-guard by the statement. His eyebrows furrowed. "In what way am I stubborn?"

You glared, nose scrunching up. Your eyes narrowed. "Are you serious? Even trying to get you to consider anything I say is like arguing with a brick wall."

But rather than an immediate reply, he paused, looking back at you with a blank stare. "...What?"

You huffed, raising your hand up to rub at the bridge of your nose. "It's a saying. A colloquialism."

"It doesn't make sense. That's not possible."

"I— I know. That's the point."

"That's not animate. Nor sentient."

"I know! It—ugh!" You squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. "It means that arguing with you is pointless because you won't even budge. You don't compromise on anything."

He nodded. "Yes. I can't afford to be compromising with you. Your wants are careless and foolish. You would be harmed." After a pause, he added, "if you know it's pointless, why do you still try to argue so often?"

You clenched your jaw, buried your face in your hands, taking a moment to collect yourself. He had a way of infuriating you with that combination of bluntness and transparency, without saying much at all.

After a moment, you shuffled back, pulling the sheets away from your body, and raised one of your calves. The chain made a soft jingling noise as the movement caused it to swing. You gestured with your hand to the spot where the cusp was bound to your ankle, eyes half-lidded in an unamused, exasperated expression.

"And this?"

He paused. Looking at the binding, blinking. Eyes flickering back to your face, to the binding, them back to you again.

"I don't see what you mean."

You let out a deep exhale through your nostrils. Your fingers curled, grasping at the sheets. "You think," you let your leg fall back onto the mattress, shuffling to reposition yourself upright, speaking through clenched teeth, "that keeping someone locked in a tiny room for years and refusing to let them leave for five minutes," you leaned forward, "isn't stubborn?"

But he did not miss a beat. "That is different." He held out a hand in an explanatory gesture. "It's a matter of ensuring your well-being. Whereas you insist on making frivolous and unnecessary demands."

You opened your mouth to retort again, but fell silent. Your shoulders went slack, and you put a hand up to your forehead, rubbing at your temples.

This wasn't worth it. It never was. You let yourself fall back onto the mattress, and once again rolled over face-down, burying your face into the pillow.

"Just... forget it. Fine. Make it in here, I guess."

You waited for a reply, but were met with silence. Either he didn't know how to respond, or trying to provoke you into saying something more. Likely the former — if he just wanted you to continue, he would say so, always very direct, so much so you weren't certain he would even think to do otherwise.

"...Only if you apologize."

You turned your head to the side, just enough to look at him, but didn't sit up. "For what?"

"You have been hostile and unnecessarily aggressive."

You immediately turned your face back downward. "You're out of your mind."

He was quiet for a moment, but finally responded once more, voice a quiet, bitter grumble. "Then you will have to accept staying in here."

You didn't respond, but you supposed that, combined with your heavy exhale, was an answer in and of itself. You let your body go limp against the mattress. Getting into these spats was always so tiring.

He did have a point. You had almost never successfully persuaded him to do anything, so much so that trying often felt pointless. Maybe that was stubborn, but if so, you would gladly accept being stubborn.

You didn't make any move to do something petulant like squirm away or swat at him when he laid back down by your side, though. That would just lead to a whole new session of bickering, and you had had enough of that for one day. Or whatever unit of time could be used in a dark, windowless room.

#he is so dumb my poor baby boy 🙏 #.x #yandere genshin impact #yandere xiao