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filwld · 3 years

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You shine just as bright.

Summary: you go star gazing with Alcina and have a sweet moment together. Warnings: Fluff (:<

(THE NSFW FIC IS STILL IN THE WORKS IM A PERFECTIONIST AND LIKE IT TO BE PERFECT SO UNTIL THEN HERE!)

Castle Dimitrescu was so beautiful at night. The way the moon light would shine through the windows would bring you so much joy, naturally you were happy but you had this sort of connection with the night since you were a mere child that you just couldn't explain.

Staring up into the night sky you smile softly letting out a relaxed sigh, shoulders relaxing releasing all the tension from your body. You sip your tea while sitting on the open window seal feeling the cold breeze go against your skin, it was a summer night so you knew it wasn't to cold for the girls just in case they barged in. You often found yourself like this in the library at night. Just sitting, staring up at the moon waiting for your lover to be done with her work, sometimes you consider bringing her with you to stare at the moon but always choosing otherwise because you don't want to bother her with your silly interest in the night scared that she might laugh at you. You knew deep down that, that statement was far from true. Alcina would never laugh at you over something that brings you joy but that didn't stop your insecurities from flooding your mind. Sighing you look down staring into the teacup that was now almost empty. You twirl the cup watching the liquid swirl inside, you were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice Alcina had entered the room and called your name softly which goes unnoticed by you to far lost in your own head. So.. Alcina just admired you smiling softly. The way the moonlight showered on your skin, and the light making your eyes shine a little brighter than normal.. She couldn't help but feel her undead heart beat once more, all for you. All for her little maiden. All hers. You finally noticed her and let out a surprised yelp jumping slightly and putting a hand over your heart breathing heavily. "Jesus! My love you must say something before sneaking up on me like that." You breath out after taking a few deep breathes to try and calm your racing heart. Alcina chuckles walking over to you with a few large strides due to her long legs. "I'm sorry for frightening you little one but I did call out to you.. But you were to caught up in thoughts to notice. Is everything alright?" Alcina asks you softly while moving a strand of hair out of your face smiling down at you softly before taking a seat beside you on the window seal luckily being one of the bigger windows she didn't have to worry about her size causing any discomfort. You lean into her touch smiling while putting your hand over hers staring up into her eyes loving the way the moonlight danced on her face. "Yes dear I'm alright just.. Relaxing simply." You answer her question and love the way she visibly relaxes and smiles down at you. You chuckle to yourself. Alcina raises an eyebrow. "What's so funny draga mea?" You shake your head smiling, before answering her. "Just thinking about how adorable you are." You watch her eyes widen slightly before chuckling lifting her hand from your cheek to your hair petting you gently. "You are the only one to ever refer to me as 'adorable' but ill take it if its coming from you." Alcina says chuckling. You smile shaking your head before returning to look at the moon. Out of the corner of your eye you see her follow your gaze before looking back at you. "Star gazing tonight little dove?" You hum to the question, drinking the rest of the tea before setting the cup down onto your lap without turning to her you respond. "I do this every night." You could tell she was shocked and slightly annoyed that she didn't know this. Alcina always prided herself in the fact that she knew everything that happens in the castle so hearing that there was something she didn't know obviously bothered her. "What? How have I never notice this? Draga mea why didn't you ever tell me." Alcina responds, you smile at the annoyance in her voice. Turning to face her you see the annoyance in her eyes, but mostly shock. You take the hand that was rested in her lap and placing it on your own. "Darling take no offense to this, I just simply didn't think it would matter to you.” You respond watching as Alcina's eyebrows furrowed and she pouted slightly grumbling out. "Everything about you matters to me pet.." You

can't stop the wide grin that appears on your face at the sight of her pout. You lean up to kiss her softly placing a hand on her cheek, she sighs softly into your mouth moving both of her hands to grab your waist and place you on her lap bringing you as close as physically possible.

You giggle at her face as you pull away, moving to caress the side of her head staring deeply into her eyes. "Alright dear I'm sorry, but now you know. So why don't we stay here awhile and enjoy the moonlight together?”

You ask her watching as her pout disappears and here comes her charming smile that made you weak in the knees. She hums running a hand up and down your side loving the warmth that radiates off your body. "Yes.. let's, but before we do that I have to show you something." before you could protest your picked up bridal style and being taken to wherever she see's fit. She begins walking you down a hallway that you've never seen before, furrowing your eyebrows wondering how you've never seen this part of the castle even after all these years of being here. not soon later you reach a door leading to outside you assume by the handle, you watch as she pushes the door open with one hand, the other holding you close to her chest. You gasp at the sight behind the door, there in front of you was the most beautiful garden you've ever seen, all type of flowers going from roses to peony to even hibiscus flowers! All blooming beautifully under the moonlight.. In the middle of the garden was beautifully cut grass and the view... Oh the view was beautiful, you could see the whole village. You look up at Alcina surprised and see her already staring at you, smiling lovingly down at you. Eyes widening at the expression before you smile and express your love through your eyes placing a hand on her cheek and pulling her down slightly to kiss her softly on the lips. She hums and deepens the kiss tilted her head slightly for a better angle. Alcina pours all her feelings into this kiss, and you do well to do the same. The way the moonlight is shinning on both of you felt amazing, making it feel so intimate.. So peaceful. You never wanted this to end. Not now, not ever. The softness of her lips brushing against yours.. Nothing could ever top this feeling you get when your with her. Soon she parts and allows you to take a minute to breath before her lips are on your neck pecking it softly before letting you down, you whine at the lost of connection. She chuckles before patting your head. "We have the whole night to kiss away darling, but why not somewhere more comfortable yes?" Alcina says while walking forward towards the grass. You raise an eyebrow wondering what she's doing before they widen widely. Alcina grabs her dress and goes to sit on the grass getting comfortable before looking back at you, your jaw drops at the sight of her getting her dress DIRTY just to sit in the grass with you. "Are you just going to sit there pet or are you going to join me?" Alcina says smirking well aware of the effect she has on you. You blush quickly going to sit besides her just before your butt hits the floor you feel hands on your waist. You yelp feeling yourself being placed onto something much softer than grass, turning you notice Alcina was smirking down at you after placing you on her lap wrapping her arms around your waist, bringing your head closer to her chest. You feel her warm breath on your neck as she whispered into your ear, "Now you can see the sky so much better don't you say pet?" You know your ears are burning red from how flustered you are. To far flustered to speak you simply nod. You feel the hot air leave her mouth as she chuckles, Alcina nuzzles her nose into your shoulder taking a deep breath breathing your heavenly scent in before sighing in content. The way the moonlight showers over the two of you making everything so romantic to the point you feel like a princess in one of those romance novels you read. You smile to yourself at the thought before focusing back on your love at the feeling of her nibbling on your neck beginning to giggle at the feeling, slightly ticklish in that area your eyes widen feeling Alcina smirk at the realization. She tries to continue tickling you but you yelp and quickly turn around throwing your arms around her neck shaking your head. "No no no, don't even THINK about it

Alcina!" You say trying your hardest to make a intimidating face, Alcina stares at you surprised by the face before whole hearted laugh escapes Alcina to the point she even throws her head back. You glare at her and she notices laughing even harder but still looking at you. After a moment she collects herself before staring down at you smirking "Oh well aren't you scary little one?" Alcina says teasingly. You blush but hold the glare. Soon she sighs smiling, "Oh alright little one no tickle fights tonight." Alcina says and goes to caress your cheek. You grin at the victory throwing your hand up into a first saying a slight "yes!" to no one in particular. Alcina watches with kind eyes smiling so hard it looks almost painful.

After your little "Victory dance" You look up into the sky at the perfect time and watch as a shooting star goes across the sky, your mouth falling open in awe at the sight. "Wow.." You whisper, you look to Alcina to see if she saw it and see her looking at the sky with a peaceful look on her face. The laugh lines showing as she smiles, the peaceful look in her eyes, the way her chest moves up and down with each breath. You smile before continuing to look up into the sky again joining her.

You both just stay there for some time, staring up into the sky loving the feel of having each other near. After some time Alcina breaks the silence. "I think I understand why you like this so much now pet." You look back at her and raise an eyebrow. "Really?" You respond to her. Alcina nods her head and without looking at you, she continues. "The sky is so peaceful to stare at.. I find myself getting lost with trying to count how many stars are out." You nod understanding what she means fully. Admiring her as she talks falling even harder for her. You go to respond before you shut your mouth shut as she opens her mouth to continue. "But I found myself loving the night simply because YOU love it dear.. The sky is just the sky to me normally. But you make it have such a deeper meaning draga mea.. And I want to thank whatever made you but ill settle for thanking you. You make me enjoy even the simple things pet, And I cannot thank you enough.." Alcina finishing and returns to looking at you, staring softly at your expression. Eyes tearing up you throw your arms around her neck pulling her close crying silently into her shoulder. "Oh Alcina.. I love you so much.. So so much.." You whisper to her. You feel her hum and tighten her hold on you bringing you closer. "And I love you.. My shooting star."

#alcina dimitrescu #gxg #hot vampire lady #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil #dimitrescu #house of dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu x oc #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader

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ficsnroses · 4 years

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—𝑨𝒏 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑬𝒙𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆. 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓—

summary : you sell your virginity to John Wick.

warnings : smut, consensual sex. oral sex. x f! reader. 5.5k.

notes : hope ya like it! I’m hoping to actually maybe make a part two. I think it would be nice to explore how this turns out for them. please leave feedback! I’m a little nervous about this one, feedback would be so so appreciated. enjoy! xx

John Wick is a man of focus; little diversions that fray from his work were often absent of his mind. It’s been years since his semblance of hope, the light at the end of the tunnel had gave out on him, and he’d been dragged back into the world of gruesome sin for good.

Bound, serving under the table. A life liberate of vice was something John had stopped dreaming of long ago.

Work had been all that engrossed John, absorbed each inch of energy his battered bones could muster up for far too long. To be working, meant to be seldom alone. Being alone, translated to being unaccompanied, with himself. Listening to the weary, dark loomed thoughts that crawled in the crevices of his mind.

A crisp pour of amber bourbon sloshes into the clear crystal glass; a lone cube of sparkler ice accompanies the liquor John would soon shoot. Something that burns, something that might ease the part of him that thinks, ponders, wonders if this was alright.

Is what he’s doing, really, alright?

He stands, leaning on the high raised counter of the bar equipped in his hotel room. The crème walls of the Continental held many secrets, secured home to the worst of folk he’d had the ill-fate of dwelling among.

The men in here were awful. Cold, indifferent, chilled blood coursing wicked veins; John knew well of the evil that rummages within the corridors of this so called, safe haven.

Anyone else would destroy her.

Could ruin her.

John wouldn’t do that. Something separates John from the bulk of the crowds, something that differs him from the norm. John would on no occasion hurt an innocent being. John wouldn’t rip her to shreds. John would treat her as human; something people often forgot that John too, is.

Temporary relief, relaxation, substance; he’d vexed them all. Often, after a job well complete, he’d find himself in dire need of long repose; a minute to rest his somnolent composure. A moment to recharge, before he’d be forced to do it all over. Human contact, connection, was something he’d scarcely recalled.

A Bourbon would often have to do, the familiar scald down the cascade of his throat the only comfort he’d been accustomed to as of late. Yet recent, he’d been craving more. He’d been yearning for something more; something physical to satiate relief.

A heavy inhale floods his lungs, a lone hand held to his drink as his other toys with the collar of his brittle white dress shirt. Her eyes stayed on him, drinking in each of his features, desperate to understand how he’d be. John Wick is a man of few words, a stoic nature barely illuminating enough light to read.

He turns, the crystal glass set down on the hotel room table as he turns to her, on his bed, her legs crossed closed, silent. Like a lover, the silk of her short black dress seduces each curve of her devourable body, thin straps kissed to her satin shoulders, her silken skin gleaming under the hotel room lights. His voice is deep, ravishingly rich, throaty with gruff as it protrudes her ears. “You’ve never done this before?” He confirms, walking closer to her delicate frame, watching her equally unreadable expression.

When he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d found himself unable to look away. Captivatingly beautiful, enough to make any man week in his knees. John wasn’t one to fantasize, to want a woman, let alone offer a second look.

Yet seeing her, he’d downed in the enchant of her beautiful features; and the best part of all,

She was selling. She’d been looking to give herself to the highest bidder.

John Wick had found himself at the right place, at the right time. An impulsive buy, one might say. But he couldn’t leave her. Not only did his body yearn for someone, something to channel his deep need into, he also knew. She was far too precious, pure; whatever circumstances had brought her to do such a thing, he wouldn’t ask.

He’d buy her. And he’d use her service.

He needed it. Sex hungry, his body longs for someone real to take care of him.

Her eyes are soft, lips stained a rosy shade of mauve as she makes direct eye contact. Blushy cheeks, soft, shining hair flutters gentle in free air as she shakes her head ‘no’.

She’d never been with anyone before. She was pure. Untouched.

With a down of the final few drops of drink in his glass, John’s shirt unbuttons, peeled off his torso in a swift motion, revealing beautifully toned, bulked muscles; rosy skin, a broad back, tattooed with bold ink on display. John must have been 20 years her senior, yet his shape proved peak. Firm biceps, defined torso, beautifully groomed, lengthy chocolate locks only adding to his splendour.

She’d expected to be bought by some middle aged, unattractive man looking to be with anyone other than his wife. John was far from that. She didn’t know if he’d seen seeing anyone else, if he was married, taken.

Not that it was any of her business.

She watches his hands move to fondle a heavy worn belt, working the buckle as it comes off his dark slacks.

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do.”

John’s rich voice surges through her ears, his question falling his thin taut lips as more of a statement, an establishment of boundaries.

She didn’t think she’d get that choice. She’d expected to be used however her buyer pleased.

With a gentle clear of throat, she nods her head no, gazing out the window of the high story hotel suite. Busy New York city life buzzes below, the nightlife pulsing through the city heart. Endless opportunity. Endless chance.

John’s belt thuds to the marble floor with a heavy clink, his body inching closer, hand dangerously close to her feeble frame as he asks, the question sending shivers down her spine. “Can I undress you?”

The question came with surprise. Part of her thanked the universe for delivering her to John, of all men. He’d been hard to read, reserved, but he hadn’t done what she’d prepared herself for immense. Although she knew, her body was merely a vessel for him to use, to get what he wanted, he hadn’t treated her as such. Hadn’t treated her as she’d gave up her right to respect when she’d bartered her purity.

When Y/N nodded, John moves in closer, placing his dense frame beside hers as he begins, unravelling her as if a present. Yearning, wondering of what held underneath the rippling drapes of the sleek fabric, his eyes gloss over her skin, thick fingers removing the straps of her dress, before reaching behind her to unzip the seams of her wear. Diminishing to her mid, her modesty falls perfectly plump on her chest, embellished in expensive lace. The swell of her chest leaves him feel the weight in his pants to harden, the sight of her cleavage, pursing together with hardened nipples. Unclasping the dainty hooks that shield her breasts from his prying gaze, John allows the thin textile to fall off, exposing her beautiful femininity; her breathtaking curves, soft, supple skin tender to the touch. His hands can’t seem to resist, callous palms moving in to roam the exquisiteness, thumbs swirling her tender nipples as he sighs, drinking her in.

“Stand up.” John’s voice demands, his own form staying placed at the foot of the bed as he instructs. Doing as told, she feels his warm hands tug at the seams of her dress, allowing the fabric to pool at her feet, leaving behind nothing but her lacy underwear covering what no one had indulged in before. Paired with pencil black heels, John takes a moment to devour the look of her stood in front of him; bare, voluptuous, almost entirely nude, causing a tent to rise in his pants. Without time to waste, his fingers intrude the skimpy cloth, gentle peeling her panties down, revealing all of her, solely, exclusively for his taking.

Had this not been an exchange where John owned her, he might have just fell prisoner to her mercy. Y/N was a beauty he’d never seen, mirroring a sex siren in her own right. The dips and curves of her frame mesmerise him, a gulp swallowed down his tight throat, a hefty palm unknowingly moving to palm his swollen cock through the fabric of his slacks. She bites her lip, vulnerable, never have being shown to anyone this way before.

John was the first to see her in all her glory, she finds herself moving shy hands to cover her form, nervous to the way he scans each inch of her body, as if memorizing it, keeping the sight locked away, stored within his gaze forever. “Gorgeous…” John’s voice whispers a gruff, two of his sturdy fingers moving to slick through her folds, palming her pussy as shivers tingle down her spine. She’d been trying her best to stay calm, to allow John to do as he pleased.

Right now, in this moment, her body rightfully belonged to him. He was permitted to do whatever he sought.

“I want you on your knees.” John explains firmly, connecting his bold gaze to hers and she nods, falling in front of his form sat on the silky sheets. Without a moment to waste, his hands trail down his zipper, throwing the expensively stitched slacks off his thighs to the floor, left in nothing but a pair of thin boxers. In a swift moment, his stocky fingers dip into the opening, allowing a hardened shaft to fall out in his grip, full, bursting balls to accompany.

She’d seen a man’s cock before; but John, John’s member was a sight to be seen. She swallows, intrigued by the grandeur, the rosy tip swollen, the thick veins that run up his length, a slight curve to its form. He offers himself a few measly tugs, dark eyes connecting to hers once again. “Do you want a safe word?”

A safe word. Perhaps if a word; a small, paltry word could save her from nonetheless being in this situation, she would have used it.

“No.” Her voice falls quiet, eyes diverted to the crème marble below. “If its too much, I’ll tell.” In the dim light of the room, a channel glow casts to her exposed skin; velvet and soft, making the plump of her mauve stained lips rouse John’s needy cock in desperate anticipation.

Without hesitation, John’s lust falls deeper, his throat tight, breath heavy.

Being with a woman, was something John felt had last happened centuries ago. Seeing her, stripped, uncovered, on her knees, keenly awaiting to be wrapped around his length; a fire burns in his belly. A hunger that rumbles across the surface, desperately ready to chase sweet, sweet relief, from her.

“Here,” John encourages, taking hold of his base with a loose grip. With his spare palm, his fingers thread into the locks of her hair, gently pulling her mouth closer. Slowly, firmly, his palm glides over the bottom of his shaft, beads of glossy pre cum quivering out the pink tip as he speaks. “Put those pretty lips on me.” Obliging, she nods, positioned between John’s thighs, nervous to the core.

She’d seen videos, heard people talk. But she’d never taken a man into her mouth before.

John would be the first, to feel her in every sinning way he pleased.

“Fuck,” John sighs through gritted teeth, feeling the warm haven of her lips circle around the thickness of his tip. Tightening on her tresses, his hand falls from his base, cupping hers in a gentle hold, before guiding it to replace his own. “Use your hands on what you can’t fit.” He instructs, walnut eyes darker, yet held with a certain sympathy.

A tenderness; mortality. “Move, baby.” John manages, eyes fluttering shut as his senses indulge, the feel of her tongue gently, kindly swirling his shaft take over. Gradually, his hand, laced within the locks of her hair guides her further down the bulk of his cock, forcing her to take a little more with each eager bob.

“Hallow your cheeks, darling.” John watches her intent, in awe with the way she learns so quick. “Eyes on me,” Practically sputtering into a pool of bliss, John’s deep baritoned words sear through her veins.

“Tighter.

Deeper.”

Drawn into his, her eyes pierce into his own earthy orbs, unknown to the throb of arousal growing in her core; John bought her for the evening. Was it sick of her to be…fascinated by him?

His room is simple. A suit jacket rests to the arm chair on the right, a barely touched bar of liquor to accompany. Little of him can be told from the depths of this room, perhaps he wasn’t here too often.

The folk of the Continental were scarce when not at work, leaving little trace of who they really were behind. She’d heard whispers of a man they called John Wick, she hadn’t been entirely unfamiliar to the dread he’d upheld within the sanctioned walls. Wick was a name that held fear to the tips of even the worst of sinner’s tongues; yet she finds herself far from. She wasn’t fearful of John Wick. She wasn’t scared of what he’d do.

As John urges her further, a choked gap emits her throat, eyes filling with a char of hot tears with his cock still shoved inside her mouth. Collecting herself, she keeps him inside, albeit, allowing some of him to fall out. “You’re alright.” John soothes, wiping escaped tears with his callous thumb. “You’re doing well.” With a nod, her movements commence, eager to find her pace again, free hands massaging his thick balls and veiny shaft that couldn’t accommodate in her mouth.

The sound of hallow gags and a mouth full of cock echo the room, throaty slickness and gasp for breath, John harshly praising her with a guide of pace. “Perfect. Fucking perfect.” A firm hand follows suit to her bare breast, palming, kneading the fleshy skin as her mouth words wonders on his sensitive skin. Without much notice, John’s eager hips buck impatiently into her mouth, so nonchalantly, a test of waters if you may.

If he had it his way, he would fuck her tiny mouth senselessly right then and there. Have her throat bruising, aching for days in his aftermath.

But John Wick isn’t a monster. John isn’t selfish.

Each time she comes down, slowly, cautiously, his swollen tip hits the back of her throat, threatening to venture further with each throb John’s bulge radiates inside. With his hips thrusting into her mouth lightly, John’s jaw tightens, goosebumps peppering his ink adorned skin. With his pace fastening, his primal desires barely cease; barely offer mercy when he pulls her head closer, wrapping his palms firmly to her head as he moves her head on his cock hastier, stiff, needier, causing srteams of sweltering tears to flow her soft cheeks as she tries her best to hold in her gags. Dangerously close to release, her head yankers back in John’s grip; strings of saliva webbing off her lips, connected to his tender shaft, allowing the bulk of his member to fall out, still erect to an intimidatingly large size.

He could have done with just her sinfully tight mouth; yet he wouldn’t. Tonight, he’d cum inside her. Tonight, he’d have something other than the lonesome grip of his sloppy hand for company; to extinguish that rummaging burn.

With a rise off the bed, John offers her a larger hand, eyes interlocked as she accepts, rising off the ground. His gravelly voice is low, Y/N’s unchecked tears and swollen lips leaving her a beautiful mess as John’s inquisitive gaze washes over her. What comes next, causes her breath to hitch; her insides searing, arousal growing wetter by the second.

With his rock hard cock digging into the skin of her stomach, she finds her self locked lips with John, who’s taken her in a sweet kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. The kiss personifies appetite, thirst, all things John craved in the moment. With his hand taking hers, deliberate movements guide her to the tall side of the bed, silky sheets and cotton pillows awaiting her arrival. His skin smells of cologne, something expensive, something sauvage. The taste of his heavy liquored tongue meddles with hers before letting go, lustful eyes encouraging her to lay down in the ripple of sheets. With his cock firm in his hand, he continues to offer himself a couple of strokes, a spare hand intruding into the hard oak nightstand to the side.

“Are you taking anything?” His voice flows through the room, heavy, shallow, adding clarification when her brows furrow. “For protection.”

Fiddling with her growing nervous fingers, she tenses, suddenly urged with the realization of what would come next. This was happening.

This was

really

happening.

John was going to fuck her. John, soon, would take that piece of her. This beautiful stranger, mysterious, yet intriguing, would make a part of her belong to him

forever.

“No sir.” She answers, eyes downcast, unsure of where to look as he preps himself. Fishing out a condom from the side drawer, the silver lining falls discarded somewhere on the marble floor along with the shambles of their clothes, mindlessly placed. “Lay down.” John tells, dimming the lights further, the curtains closed shut as night falls over the shadowy New York city horizon. She does as told, awaiting his body to accompany.

Her eyes find his back once again, watching delicate, cryptic ink that coats his broad skin in curiosity. A seemingly cross centers in the middle, an arrangement of words unknown to her cognizance bedecked along. As he finds himself crawling a top her sprawled figure, his hands guide her legs open further, hand palming her mound as she bites her lip. Slow, steady, he guides in the stock of two fingers, sensually slow, preparing her pretty cunt for his taking.

Coated with her silky arousal, his fingers gleam, a creamy mixture of her gloss glazed over his hand. Punctuated by her tender, soft, barely audible whimpers, a light chuckle emits John’s throat. “You don’t have to stay quiet.” He clears, fingers pumping slightly faster now, expertly judging her expressions. “Ever done this before?”

Y/N was a virgin; but no saint by any means. She’d touched herself before, even brought herself to orgasm on occasion. With a shy nod, she answers, punctuated by her own barely held together, soft moans to the feel of John’s much thicker fingers pulsing in and out of her. With the pad of his thumb, he works her clit, his hand arranging a beautiful symphony begging to fall off her lips.

The feel of John’s touch was nothing like her own, paired with the weight of his body on hers. As if habitually, her back arches, her toes curl, a whimper secreted when he draws his fingers out. With his heavy cock in hand, John lines himself up with her entrance, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside; to feel what she had to offer. With his enlarged tip rubbing over her clit, his voice registers barely in her ears, lost in the feel of him on her.

“Tell me to stop.” His gravelly voice reminds, assertion heavy on his tongue.

John was proving awfully hard to read. She appreciates the respect; the boundaries he was willing to set for her. She’d sworn, she could see a light of humility in him, contrasted, laced with dark need. If he wanted, she knew he could ruin her.

Without much warning, she feels his tip impend into her walls, sinking slow, stretched by his weight, her eyes widening noticeably when John’s girth pushes into her, cock widening her immensely.

She knew John’s member would be far larger than the feel of anything she’d felt before; yet perhaps she’d underestimated just how much larger it would feel. Plunging in further, a tight moan escapes John’s lips, drowning in further, slower, steadier, until he’s reached her end. Hissing at her tightness, he feels her clench around him, a breathy gasp of her own fleeing, nails sinking into the sheets in a fitted clasp.

Had the circumstances been different, he’d have asked her to hold onto him instead; maybe even let her burry her face in his neck as he works her body whole.

But that wasn’t what this was. This was merely an exchange. An agreement for him to get exactly what he needed;

mind blowing sex.

All John needed right now, was a rough, and good fuck to hold him over.

He stays still for a moment, feeling her cunt pulse around him, and her eyes shut tight, breathing measured as she relishes in the feel of him full, nestled inside her wet haven, before placing both sturdy hands on her hips in a strong hold. Rapt with desire, John’s primal instincts kick in, the feel of her welcoming pussy so perfectly mould to his cock; he’d sworn or a moment that she was perfectly, exclusively crafted just for him to fuck. With his hips picking up pace, John sucks in a sharp breath, a groan of pleasure to the way her heavenly walls tighten around him, tight, blissfully gratifying.

She can’t help but gasp, searing tears returning once again to the ungodly stretch. John burns inside, allowing her minimal time to adjust. His hips buck into hers, gradually picking up pace as he thrust deeper, harder, conjuring up an almost selfish pace.

She’d never felt anything like this before. The pain, the pleasure. The sinful pleasure of him practically splitting her inch by inch. His cock glides in and out her constricted entrance, and she practically whimpers; unsure of whether the moans signified pain, or immense pleasure.

It hurt, but in the best ways possible. His aggressive roll of hips only quickens, faster and faster until Y/N’s moans caged no more. Her lips longed to moan his name, scarcely able to keep her eyes open to see the way he pants above her figure.

With her breasts bouncing vigorously to his pace, John’s want only cultivates further. Watching his cock glide in and out of her sends him in a frenzy, the way she violently jerks with each movement, the sound of his balls smacking against her sweltering core give life to a filthy symphony of her stifled yelps and moans, blended religiously with his growls and throaty gruffs.

His eyes roll shut and he bites his lip, the sounds of her wetness bobbing him fill the room to his violent labour of hips, each time he sinks in and out. His cock glistens with her honeyed dew, her hand reverting over her mouth to confine a loud moan threatening to surface. Whimpering, she bites her arm in complete ecstasy, the feel of John throbbing, completely filling her whole becoming much.

John had been practically pounding her, minutes in. The feeling of having someone to spend the night with, left him far more aroused than he’d initially planned. Her legs tremble, gazing down to observe the way his load exits her cunt fully before slamming back in repeatedly, over, and over, and over, erratic imperative. With every nerve in her body threatening to snap, she relishes a moment to feel John inside.

John’s thickness is something she doesn’t think she’ll be able to forget. Each nerve, each throbbing vein, that curve of his shaft she witnessed earlier; his thrusts become urgent, cock twitching within, grinding vigorously to her g spot as his breathe lays hot, close to her skin. Ridged and rough, his fingers threaten to leave purple bruises peppering into her hips, his hold of her body immensely stiff, as if fearful of her disappearing. The bed below creeks, headboard assaulting the walls with profound hits to his demanding haste; she’s already sore from his massive size, and he hasn’t even finished yet.

“Fuck...you feel,” John’s deep voice, sultry and stiff surges her ears, rich as butter. “You feel fucking amazing, tighten up for me, darling.” He instructs, wanting to feel her milk his cock. She follows as told, squeezing her walls around him, squirming, wailing underneath his form. He pushes as much of himself in as possible and she screams, feeling a cocktail of their fusing released drip down her thighs. John looks delectable this way; beads of exertion peppered to his forehead, muscled skin sticking to hers, the smell of sex prominent around them as he continues pumping her relentlessly, senselessly. To a particularly rough thrust, her toes curl, arms coming around his shoulders to hold on dearly, tightly as he continues his rummage into her body. She holds tight, fingernails digging into his skin as grunts and ear-splitting moans intrude the atmosphere.

John is fucking her so well, so intense, that tears fall still, the raunchy sounds of skin slapping skin, enticing whispers of praise off his lips for her body only pushing her further. John feels his release close, lost in the tender haven she’d given him to spoil in, and he shudders; shivering, buried deep, deep inside her, the sounds of her wetness slicking his member echoing the walls. Within a few particularly lewd, unaltered thrusts, she screams his name, gasping, holding onto his biceps lifelessly as he quickens his pace, his own release not far behind.

He slams, harder, and harder, channeling an animalistic pace to her core, a rhythm of lust drunk pleasure imploring each inch of his body as he still deep, deep inside her pussy, spurting thick streams of sticky, glossing white cum into the dainty condom he’d worn. He stills for a moment, neither of them speaking; heaving sighs and rapid breaths as they come down from their highs, her limbs still securely wrapped around his frame. A joint euphoria; a paradise they’d created together. A creamy mixture of their releases drips to the satin sheets below, although John ceases to care.

Right now, in this moment, he finds himself truly, wholly

relieved.

He’d gone so long, so distant without sex. Without human touch, connection. With his cock still sheathed inside her warm harbour, he sighs, relishing even in the feel of her holding him.

And a moment passes, then another; and another. With his weight rested on shaky palms to the bed sheets on either side of her, John sighs, panting, watching the way she swallows a lump in her throat; beads of vapour dotted to her glistening skin.

Gorgeous, he thinks.

She’s got those pretty eyes, satin skin. She felt surreal. He’d seen the stars buried inside her.

Slow and steady, John moves, allowing his flaccid member to slip out her warm hold. The sun has fully set, and the moonlight barely filters in through the slits of opaque curtains. With a towel retrieved, one he’d set aside prior to their session beside the bedframe, he finds place back, next to her worn out frame.

John had fucked her so good, so hard, she’d worn her legs may just give out in any attempt of rising on her feet. Relishing, sunken into the mattress as she watches him move calm, collected, the feel of John cleaning what he’s left behind off her womanhood causes the softest of blush to intrude, peppering her skin. With the condom discard, John’s hoarse voice rasps, breaking the still of long endured silence. “You’re alright?” He probes, watching the way she sits up on the bed, the threads of the duvet he’d spent countless nights burrowed in alone fixed in her grip, pulling it over her bare breasts, covering herself from his chocolate gaze.

She’s shyer now than before, after sex bliss stippled over her skin, her pussy sore from the action. The emptiness John had left ached. She’d be reminded of the mysterious man with painted skin for days;

prompted by what story his back really told.

What intrigued her so much, about the man who’d taken her in the filthiest of ways.

“Did I hurt you?” He inquires, and she’d sworn the way he looks at her…the way his eyes glaze over her features, as if watching so intently her every move, a symphony flows inside her, coursing that acquainted boil in her stomach. Nodding her head, no, she watches him pull on a pair of long forgotten boxers, opting himself a seat to the edge of the bed as she stays put. Despite having just had had sex with him, she finds herself nervous to be exposed to his eyes again; a dire side effect of the toll his handsomeness had truly taken on her.

She finds herself, tense. Intimidated by his grandeur.

A story writes itself, a tale that brews in the depth of their minds. Racing a mile a minute, he’d known. And perhaps she had too; that the sex had been far too good.

Dangerously good.

The words brew on the tip of his tongue, yet he finds himself cautious of their release. Would he be awful for thinking these thoughts? Was he soiling her, tainting her for his selfish needs, thinking of the dirtiest fate he could try her; propose to her before she’d be gone.

A fuck this good doesn’t come easy, and John wasn’t looking for romance. Love was something he’d forgotten a long time ago, wasn’t sure he’d been worthy of such a thing.

;yet he’d found her. Someone who could take care of his physical needs; someone he could use for that intimacy he too, direly needed. Had lacked for years, finally tasting it, within her.

The way she felt was something John would find himself struggling to forget. The warm, wet, deliciously slick feel of her welcoming cunt; John hadn’t had someone as good as her. She’d ruined it for him. Nothing had compared. No one had taken care of his cock the way she’d done in a meagre 30 minutes.

He’d request. He’d propose. He’d bargain her an even exchange.

With a gruff crisp in his throat, his guttural voice catches her by surprise. Under the duvet, her naked skin flushes to a warm, temperate ease. Fulfilled, relaxed, riding high on sex satisfied clouds, tingles still felt within each snapping nerve of her skin. His tone is calm, collected; upheld with dominance.

She delighted in his dominance. “I want to offer you.” He begins, a hand placed on his bare thigh. “A contract. For your services.”

Services. Bold of him to assume, this was something she’d planned on doing for more men. “An offer…?” Her tongue seeps, the words a quiet, barrel mumble to his proposition. In the barely lit room, her inquisitive eyes glow; a familiar glow to the way they’d shone, glossy. When his cock had been rammed deep down her tight throat.

“A contract.” He repeats, professionally. “I want you. Again.” His tone finds a quiver building within her core, her thighs longing to be wrapped around his waist, the way they dripped control, power. “I’ll pay you, generously.” He nods, eyebrows raised, a gaze to her smaller body buried in his sheets. “But when I need you, you come. No questions, no excuses.” He adds, studying her form, the way her brows furrow, lost in the aftermath of his words.

“You’ll be mine to use. For the duration of the contract.”

His. She could be

his.

Racing a mile, a minute, her thoughts haze, the rush of adrenaline, the weight of his proposition thick in a fog on her brain. Her senses tense, her thoughts freeze. The sight of him catches her lost.

His. To belong to the man, with the muscled back and bold tinted ink. The man who’d fucked her pornographically. Her cluster of deliberations interrupts with his thick voice, velvety, rich. “I’ll let you sit on it.” He offers, standing, the crisp white dress shirt he’d peeled off his frame earlier back in his sturdy grip as he drapes it on. “I need to take care of some business with the manager. I’ll be back within the hour.” Buttoning the top, coffee hued locks curtain his face, his perfectly groomed beard in perfect contrast with the lighter fabric; the bulge of his toned arms protruding at the textile. “And when I’m back,

I’ll be expecting another round.

Have yourself ready, please.”

And with those piercing words, he dresses himself, leaving her bare, exposed, in his bed.

A promise to come back for more left behind.

A demand, for more when he’d be back.

John wasn’t looking for love. John made it clear. This was physical. Something to quench his every longing need.

The ring of the door shut, the buzzing New York traffic below. She sits, decision tense on her mind.

John Wick, was her first.

And he, wanted her to be his last.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

part 2

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #john wick x you

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 5

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader (Gender neutral) Rating: T for language and mentions/references to an (emotionally) abusive relationship. Mild, brief violence. Warnings: TW for referenced emotional abuse, mild TW for possible physical abuse (sorry, angry Dani is not 100% gentle with people she doesn't love-love) Notes: Music for this chapter here. If you're following this story and really want to continue reading, but worry about the TWs for this chapter, just send me an anonymous message and I'll write up an alternative version of this post. It's not something I would do without it being requested, but it's also not a big deal so don't feel like you're bothering me if you want that. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Tocatta

Chapter 5: Poco a Poco (Italian: Little by little)

Finding a schedule for lessons to follow proved to be an insurmountable task. Consistency was something that Daniela struggled with greatly, even when it came to things that she genuinely cared about. Things like ensuring you lived long enough to entertain her. Instead of working with you to find a balance that worked for both of you, the youngest Dimitrescu daughter seemed intent on doing things in her own time. Little by little. Which would have been fine, if the two of you weren’t restricted by time.

Fate wasn’t entirely unkind, however. There were still a few things that Daniella recalled from her “youth”, bits and pieces of musical theory, the bare basics of reading sheet music. Not having to teach her proper posture or the structure of a piano would save you a little bit of time. On top of that, you had been informed that, somewhere in the castle, there were a few books of sheet music you could borrow. Assuming you were eventually able to find them, that is. So far they had eluded you, but you hadn’t even had much time to search, as you were still expected to perform your usual Maiden-related tasks.

In the end, it was Daniela herself that proved to be the biggest obstacle in your way.

“Look,” Daniela said one day, barely ten minutes into a lesson, “I think we should take a break… maybe have some fun?” One of her hands is resting on top of yours, the other tucking your hair behind your ear. There’s a smirk on her lips, unsurprisingly, and she’s mere inches away from kissing you. If not for the heavy threat hanging over your head, you would have already thrown yourself into her arms. Instead, all you can do is sigh, turning away from her as you do. “Don’t be like that, sweet thing. C’mon, no one can hear us right now. Might as well enjoy ourselves.”

“Babe. Darling. Buttercup, honey, cute little button on a bear, you are not the brightest bulb in the lighting department,” you replied, holding the bridge of your nose between two fingers. Instantly Daniela is upset, giving you a (thankfully) playful smack on the arm. Before she can protest more you continue speaking. “Your family would not hear us making out, true, but they would definitely hear us not playing the piano. I’m pretty sure your mother already thinks I’m doomed to fail as a teacher, and the last thing I need is to give her a reason to drop the curtains this early into our performance.”

“First of all, I am not an idiot,” Daniela said, a bit of a growl to her voice. “Secondly, what harm can a few minutes really do? Don’t you think I’ve been working hard enough to earn a little reward?” Now she’s holding a finger under your chin, lifting it up, making sure you’re looking right at her. There’s no dissuading her, it seems, as she leans in for a soft kiss. This was one of the more frustrating aspects of dealing with (courting?) her; communication felt like a one-man play, except the audience was as likely to throw knives as rotten tomatoes. Whenever Daniela acted like this, pushing away your concerns in favor of her pleasure, it felt helpless to try and resist her.

So you kissed back, wrapped your arms around her, and hoped that she’d be more open to compromise afterwards. At least kissing her was nice. Even though it had only been a week since you first kissed her, she was already getting better, evidently learning through experience. The passion behind her movements had grown as well, leaving you a tad breathless. Regardless of her odd perception of romance, and her insistence that she knew best, you found yourself charmed by her. It was scary. Terrifying, really, how you felt yourself falling under her spell. Wait. Hadn’t you been in this sort of situation before?... Staying with someone who wasn’t good for you? Why were you kissing her? Why were you starting to tremble, tears in your eyes, mind falling down a slippery slope of memories?

By the time you snap out of it, you’re sitting on the floor, Daniela awkwardly kneeling by your side. What the fuck? You think, sniffling a little. Head spinning, mind reeling, you struggle to form coherent thoughts. Next to you Daniela is unsure of how to help. But she’s trying, sort of, one hand holding your own, the other gently rubbing your back. She’s saying something, the words going right over your head. Understanding her takes times, focus, like tuning an instrument until the pitch is just right.

“I don’t understand, we were only kissing, what happened? Can you even hear me? Is this your way of tricking me into not making out with you? Because that’s a total dick move and-” she rambles, only stopping when you give her hand a soft squeeze. Then she’s meeting your gaze, looking uncomfortable, shoulders tense. “You’ve been weird for a while. Distant. Like you don’t want to touch me anymore. Don’t you still love me?”

There’s real, honest pain in her eyes when she speaks. If the timing had been different… you’d have thrown your arms around her and covered her face in kisses, promising to hold her onto she felt better, promising that yes you cared. You cared so fucking much. But she’s making you exhausted; every second has to be focused on her, not you. Every moment of concern is flipped around until she’s the victim, or at least the one that needs comforting. You didn’t think that she even realized what she was doing. Well, you hoped that she didn’t, wanted to believe that if she understood she’d change.

“Remember the first day we kissed?... how you pulled me close, and I kissed you harder, and we started…. Remember how I made a move and you pushed me away? I’ll never forget the look on your face. I felt like shit afterwards. I should have asked before I tried anything,” you explain, letting go of Daniela’s hand so you could pull your knees to your chest. Somehow you can’t bring yourself to maintain eye contact with her- not right now, not when you could still remember what it felt like to be on her side of this story. “I don’t want to push your boundaries, or make you feel pressured to do something you don’t want to do. The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you like that.”

“Oh bullshit,” Daniela snarled, shocking you, before getting to her feet. Confusion doesn’t begin to describe how you feel in the moment as you watch her pace back and forth. Both her hands are clenched into fists, and she’s refusing to look at you. There’s a buzzing sound in the room, faint but growing louder, like she’s a split second away from entering swarm mode. “We’re a couple, aren’t we? Shouldn’t you be able to tell what I want? Shouldn’t it be obvious what I desire, when I’m pinning you to the wall and shoving my tongue down your throat? What more do you require?”

“Holy shit, Dani, I know communication isn’t your forte, but have you really not even considered talking to me? That’s simple, easy, literally the first thing that should come to mind!” You snapped, too in disbelief to keep your voice down. For a moment Daniela stops her pacing, turning to stare at you with narrowed eyes. If you weren’t so mad, you’d be convinced she was ready to kill you. But she doesn’t move to grab her sickle, or otherwise advance on you, instead groaning and tugging on her own hair in frustration.

“Because that’s not romantic, genius!” She replied. Some dots start to connect in your mind, but you lack the full context, as if looking at sheet music with no clefs or time signature. It’s not until Daniela continues that you really understand; and, by extension, realize just how ridiculous this whole mess is. “None of the books I’ve read involve conversations like this. People just… they just love each other! And figure it out as they go along, reading each other’s body language and facial expressions, inferring what they need to know through touches and reactions. Why can’t we do that?”

“This isn’t a fucking book, dumbass! I don’t have powers like you, I can’t just read your mind and figure out what you want. That’s not how relationships work! Communication is key. And you can’t just talk, you have to listen, hard, and understand,” you continued, still on the floor, heart pounding so furiously you thought it might leap from your chest at any moment. As angry as you are, you wonder if you’re being too loud, too angry, wonder if there was a better way to get through to Daniela. Before you can think of a solution the air is ripped from your lungs. Your “partner”/student is grabbing you by the front of your shirt, yanking you to your feet. Instinct makes you struggle against her, as useless as it is.

“I. Told. You. I’m not an idiot!” Her free hand comes up to your face, cupping your cheek for a moment, then pulling away just as fast. When it moves back up she’s gripping onto her sickle. The sharp edge ends up resting against your neck, the slightest movement threatening to cut you open. This is the most Daniela has ever openly threatened you, and in that moment all your anger melts back into fear, tears spilling down your cheeks. A flicker of something shows in her eyes, making you think that even she doesn’t like where this is going. “Give me one reason not to end this right now.”

“... I don’t… I can’t think. I… Why would you?” The words leave you in a rush, even with the pauses, and each syllable makes the sickle press into your skin a little more. There’s sure to be a cut there, though you can’t even begin to estimate how bad it is. The blade is sharp, clearly, and it hardly even hurts as it slices you. Thankfully the sensation doesn’t last long. Once you’re done speaking, Daniela’s grip loosens considerably, hand slowly letting your shirt go. Her other hand takes a few seconds to move, but eventually pulls away without any fuss. For a few seconds she just watches you, eyes filled to the brim with a rich sorrow, mouth open but unmoving.

“No lesson tomorrow. I need a break,” Daniela whispers, barely audible. Then she’s dusting herself off, no longer looking at you, and heading towards the exit. Just like the first time you met, she pauses in the doorway. “How’s that for communication, hmm?” When she laughs, it’s empty, forced. Part of you wants to stop her and ask if she’s okay.

Instead, you watch her leave, unspoken words tangling with your tongue until you almost can’t swallow.

Then your feet move, automatically, leading you to the piano. You sit down without thinking. You touch the keys without thinking. When you play, you play without thinking. It’s just a song, the world tells you, and you have no choice but to play. It’s not just a song, you know this, but you can’t think. Can’t argue against the personification of your isolation, or the embodiment of your trauma. All you can do is let yourself get lost in the music, softly, recalling lyrics from a forgotten time.

I’ve been running all my life, trying to find a place to hide ‘Thought that I had settled down, but I guess things are changing now Don’t make me go, don’t make me go Just don’t make me go, this feels like home

As soon as the last note fades out you stand, wordlessly, and leave. Your feet carry you down corridor after corridor, past maidens working, some of whom gasp when they see you. But you don’t stop, not even when you cross paths with Lady Bela, who eyes you with surprising concern. She doesn’t try to stop you, though, and you doubt you would have cared if she had tried. It’s not until you are within your shared room that you finally stop moving. It is there that you sit, shaking, finally pressing a cloth to your neck. Blood stains the fabric, first in just a few dots, then spreading out. There’s not enough to make you fear for your life, but there is enough to make you cry harder. Washing the wound will sting… so you don’t do that. Soon you will have to return to your work, and the thought puts pressure on your skull, summoning an all-too-familiar migraine.

When you close your eyes, you don’t mean to fall asleep, but that is exactly what you do. And when you dream, you do not wish for nightmares. You never do- and fate never denies you their company.

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #big oof in the chat for this one boys #introducing the secondary conflict #don't worry the next one will be happier :)#tw emotional abuse #we learn little hints of the reader's backstory here

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Reiji Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the underground waterway

Yui: ( I’m sure Reiji-san will be upset with me if I follow after him. But even so, I... )

Uu...

ー She pushes open the portal

*Creaaaak*

*THUD*

ー The scene shifts to the forest in the Demon World

Yui: ーー I’m here...

( This is the Demon World...It’s as dark as ever. Even more so right now, with the lunar eclipse still ongoing... )

( Oh no. I don’t know the way...It’s pitch-black, I can barely see a thing. )

( Which direction should I go? )

( I want to meet up with Reiji-san as soon as I can... )

*HOOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...!!

( The howling of wolves...Don’t tell me, they’re nearby? )

( Those wolves which attacked Ayato-kun... )

ー A flashback ensues

Yui: Ayato-kun!!!!

Ayato: Fuck…That hurt! The fuck’s your problem!!?

ー The wolf continues its assault

Ayato: Guh…Chichinashi, don’t you dare move from underneath me…!!

Yui: B-But…!

Ayato: Shut up…Guah…!!

*RIIIIIIP*

Ayato: …Guh…Uu…!!

ー The flashback ends

Yui: Ugh...

( Oh no...I remembered, and now my body won’t stop shaking. )

( Perhaps I made a mistake by coming here all by myself... )

*HOOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...! Again...

( Also, I feel like they’ve gotten closer than before... )

( Either way, staying here is dangerous. I should look for a place to hide. )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to inside the abandoned building

Yui: ーー There’s a house all the way out here...

( The building seems to be quite old and there doesn’t appear to be anyone living here right now... )

( Perfect. I’ll use this as my hiding spot. )

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Phew.

( I finally got to catch my breath... )

( However, I can’t stay here forever. Perhaps it isn’t too late to turn back after all... )

*Thud*

Yui: ...!!

( I heard a noise coming from outside right now...Don’t tell me, there’s someone here? )

( What should I do? Where can I hide...? )

( Ah! I can hide behind those curtains! )

ー Yui moves behind the curtains

??? 1: The noise was coming from here, right?

??? 2: Yes. I am positive.

??? 1: ...You’re right, it definitely reeks of something in here. Oi, search the room.

??? 2: Yes, sir!

Yui: ( ...Who could those guys be? Are they perhaps Vampires...? )

( Oh no. Who knows what they’ll do to me if they find me. )

( Please, don’t let them check here...! )

??? 2: ーー There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. Should we turn back?

??? 1: Hm...

Yui: ( Thank god. Seems like they’re leaving already. If I just stay hidden like this, I should be able to go unnoticed somehow... )

??? 1: ...?

??? 2: Is something the matter?

ー He opens the curtains

Yui: ...!!!

??? 1: So this is where you’ve been hiding. Hah, how naive.

*Rustle*

Yui: Ow! No, let me go...!

??? 1: A woman, huh? And a human, on top of that. Where did you come from?

Yui: F-From the human world...

??? 1: Why did you come here? Did you come with a specific reason in mind? Or perhapsーー

...Hm?

Yui: Eh...?

??? 1: What is this scent? For a human, it’s somewhat...

Oi, woman! Are you truly a human?

Yui: I am...

??? 1: Suspicious. Seems like we need to investigate you more thoroughly.

ーー Oi, take this woman to our castle.

??? 2: Roger!

Yui: No way...! Stop, please! I have somewhere I need to go immediately, so...!

??? 1: Keep quiet and follow us!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!

( At this rate, I’ll get taken with them...However, I’m no match for these people... )

( No...I’m scared...Save me, Reiji-san...! )

???: May I ask what you are going to do with her?

Yui: Eh...?

Reiji-san...!!

( This is the real one, right? I didn’t think he’d actually come for me...! )

??? 1: ...! You are Karlheinz-sama’s...

Reiji: Long time no see, Zweig-sama. I suppose it must have been since the last evening party.

Yui: ( Reiji-san knows this person...? )

Reiji: By the way, would you kindly let go of the lady?

Zweig: My sincere apologies! I was unaware of the fact that she is your prey...

Reiji: No. She is my lover.

Yui: Eh...?

( He said that like it was nothing... )

( But I’m happy. He’s willing to refer to me as his lover in front of others. )

Zweig: ...I see. In that case, I should return her to you.

Reiji: Thank you very much.

Zweig: However, what was she doing here?

This is the Demon World and on top of that, the lunar eclipse is still ongoing. It is extremely dangerous for a human woman to be wandering around the woods by herself.

Reiji: You are absolutely correct. This was a blunder on my part. ...I am extremely ashamed.

Zweig: No, I was not blaming you or anything...

Well, let us move on from that. In the end, nothing happened after all.

Reiji: Once again, my sincere apologies.

Well then, we shall take our leave now. ーー We are leaving, Yui.

Yui: Y-Yes.

ー The scene shifts back to the forest

Yui: ーー I’m so sorry, Reiji-san. I caused you trouble.

Reiji: Is that all? Nothing else you should say?

Yui: Well...I acted recklessly despite my promise to remain in the human world...

Reiji: My thoughts exactly. Good grief...I was right sending a Familiar down there to check just in case.

Who knows what could have happened if I arrived just mere seconds later.

Yui: ( He’s upset... )

( Of course he is. I caused him trouble because of my own selfish acts. )

Reiji: I doubt you are aware, but those men were part of the Snake Clan, also known as Vibora.

Yui: Snake...? So they’re not Vampires?

Reiji: Yes. However, that does not make them any less dangerous. After all, they are highly territorial.

They were patrolling around the abandoned building to keep an eye on possible intruders wishing to enter their territory which lies just past that area...

If one were to set foot inside their territory, not even a fellow Demon would make it through unscathed.

You were truly playing with fire.

Yui: ( I see... )

I really am sorry...

Reiji: Haah...Well, I suppose I can let it slide. Nothing happened this time after all.

Please use this as a lesson and refrain from being so reckless in the future.

Yui: ( Huh? He only scolded me. In the past, I would have received a severe punishment... )

Reiji: What is the matter? Making such an odd expression.

Yui: Uhm, I was just thinking you’ve kind of changed.

Reiji: Why would you say that all of a sudden...?

However, if I have truly changed, then that would be...because of you.

Yui: Eh?

Reiji: Well then, let us head home.

ー He offers his hand

*Rustle*

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“Look at those flushed cheeks...Seems like my lover is quite the shy one per usual. Although that is part of what makes you so adorable.”

“You honestly are hopeless without me. I suppose I would be able to rest at ease if you were constantly connected to me like this.”

Yui: Ah...

( He grabbed hold of my hand... )

( His hand is so big...His fingers are long too, it really feels like a man’s hand. )

( I wonder why? This isn’t the first time he has touched me, but my heartbeat’s going crazy... )

Reiji: Why do you avert your gaze?

Yui: I-It’s nothing...

Reiji: I shall not allow you to keep any secrets from me. Answer me, Yui.

Yui: Well...I feel somewhat embarrassed...

Reiji: Embarrassed?

Heh. Why are you still flustered over this? We are lovers. Therefore, it is only normal for us to hold hands.

Or would you perhaps prefer another method?

Yui: Another method...?

Reiji: I will tell you if you so wish...But when I do, I assume your cheeks may turn an even brighter shade of red.

Yui: Uu...

Reiji: Fufu...You truly are a straightforward person.

Yui: ( ...I wonder if he’s teasing me? )

( However, even that makes me happy. )

( His voice is so gentle, therefore I can tell that he cares for meーー )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the entrance of the Sakamaki castle

Reiji: Well then, we have arrived.

You are dirty, so you should take a shower first.

Yui: Yes. Uhm...Is Ayato-kun alright? If possible, I’d like to see him...

Reiji: Ayato has yet to regain consciousness. There is nothing you can do even if you go see him.

Yui: I see...

( Vampires usually have a speedy recovery. Yet, he still hasn’t woken up... )

( I wonder if he’ll be okay...? )

Reiji: ...Well, would you like to go take a quick look?

Yui: Eh? I can?

Reiji: It is written all over your face that you are worried sick.

I doubt you can relax and take a shower in your current state.

Yui: Thank you very much!

ー The scene shifts to one of the bedrooms

Yui: ...

Ayato: ...

Yui: ( He really won’t even budge. )

( I don’t want to think this way, but it’s almost as if he’s dead... )

Reiji-san, how’s his condition...?

Reiji: The wound on his left arm is the only physical injury. It is recovering quite well, but to this day, he has not shown any signs of awakening.

He might have hit his head hard on something.

However, I am not a medical specialist, so I cannot say for sure...

Yui: I see...

Uhm, do doctors not exist here in the Demon World?

Reiji: I believe I have mentioned this in the past as well, but the profession of ‘doctor’ does not exist here.

Aah, however...

Yui: Does something come to mind?

Reiji: Yes. There is one thing.

Father’s pharmaceutical department. If we go there, they could examine Ayato’s symptoms.

Yui: Really?

Reiji: Yes.

Well then, we have been here long enough, no? Let us leave.

I doubt you can relax in those dirty clothes.

Yui: Ah, just a little longer...Ayato-kun has some sweat on his forehead, so I’d like to wipe it off.

Reiji: I shall do that.

Yui: But...

Reiji: ...You are rather dense.

Yui: Eh? What do you mean?

Reiji: You wish to remain by Ayato’s side that badly? More so than spending time with me?

Yui: Eh...?

( Don’t tell me, is Reiji-san jealous...? )

ー Reiji steps closer

Reiji: Good grief. To think you would make me go this far...I assume you are prepared to get punished?

Yui: N-No way...I was simply worried about Ayato-kun, that’s all...

Reiji: Are we talking back now? In that case, I assume those defiant lips should be first to receive a penalty.

Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ...

Y-You can’t...Reiji-san...Ayato-kun’s right there...

Reiji: He cannot tell since he is asleep. Come on, keep still.

Nn...Haah...

Yui: ( They’re only light kisses, yet it’s making my head spin... )

( At this rate, I’ll... )

Reiji: Fufu...You look as if you are about to melt any second now. It would be troublesome if you were to collapse on me as well, so I will leave the follow-up for some other time.

ー Reiji walks away

Yui: ( Geez, Reiji-san...! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Sakamaki Prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfreijidarkprolog

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shedreamsofstars · 3 years

Text

better the devil you know

rating: explicit

tags: emotional manipulation, referenced cheating, angst, unhealthy relationships, physical abuse, explicit sexual content, mildly dubious consent

... xxx ...

They say the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. But what if the one you know is the worst of them all. What if he had your back arched against a wall, cold hands gripping your hips, mouth warm between your thighs.

What if he was a lover who could unlock heaven with nothing but his touch.

This and several other thoughts had crossed Akito’s mind as she cursed holy, reaching for the head of dark hair below her waist, tangling her fingers in the fine, silky stands as she pulled him closer.

It was a shame that her lover had to be Shigure Sohma of all people, prideful bastard that he was.

She tugged at her tie, loosening it and throwing it to the ground as she filled her lungs with shallow breaths whilst Shigure worked his tongue against her, unleashing some primal instinct with each stroke. He paused to laugh against her inner thigh as she squirmed, pulling back enough to look up at her, perfect teeth flashing in a grin.

He knew her.

Knew her down to her bones, to the very blood that ran through her veins.

And yet, she could never say the same about him.

He could predict her every movement, know exactly where to push her to make her come apart, fall like a helpless victim into his waiting arms. But she could barely scratch the surface of him, so thick was his armour.

Part of it was her fault.

She could admit that much at least, breath hitching as he slung one of her legs over his shoulder and pushed his tongue deeper inside her. It took all she had to keep her eyes open, to keep from closing them and giving in to him completely.

She needed to witness this.

Needed to see him giving her exactly what she wanted, needed that semblance of control over him no matter how insignificant or fleeting it might be. She needed to know she had him, even if just for this moment, because when they were done she would lose him again, just like always.

He was always someone she could never be deserving of. Or perhaps her wretched heart deserved nothing better than this man who could fuck her like she was his god, like he worshipped no one but her, and then turn on her with flippant indifference.

His tongue lashed against her wildly, sending sparks searing through her skin and a different kind of warmth between her legs. But before it could blossom into anything more, Shigure pulled away.

His warm exhale sent shivers up and down her spine, but before she could ask him why he’d stopped, he was standing before her. Those dark unreadable eyes stared down at her as his finger hooked against the top of her shirt.

“I hope you’re not too fond of this,” he murmured, tugging at it harshly. The top button snapped loose and skittered across the floor. Akito huffed in annoyance, undoing the other buttons herself and letting the loose material slide off her, exposing the tight bindings she still wore across her chest.

Shigure made short work of them, eyes locked onto hers the entire time. She felt lighter the moment they fell away, breasts aching from the sudden freedom. If Shigure noticed her wince of pain he didn’t show it as his hands ran down her naked form.

It was her fault his armour was so thick.

She’d hurt him, and he’d bled, and he’d scarred, and then she’d done it again and again. With every consecutive cut, his scars had grown thicker and thicker until they were so tough that she couldn’t get through to him anymore. He was impenetrable, and she often found she barely recognised the empty gaze that watched her so keenly.

His touch was slow and caressing, but his kiss was anything but as his mouth collided with her own. It was all teeth and tugging and tangled tongues as his hands reached her chest, massaging and flicking her breasts. This time they ached in a pleasant way and she sighed into him.

She ran her hands across his smooth shoulders, drawing off his kimono and boxers until he was kissing her as bare as she was. His cock was hard as he ground his hips against hers, and she throbbed for him to be inside her already.

“Hurry up,” she snapped, biting at his lip hard enough for it to sting and opening her legs wider for him. He pulled back with a hiss, running a hand across his full lips. He tilted his head at her, tutting softly.

“Have a little patience, Akito,” he said lightly, smiling infuriatingly. “It’s not like we’re in a hurry. Unless, of course, you’re expecting someone?”

Mischief glimmered in his eyes, taunting her to respond, to refute or confirm the statement but she refused to rise to it. Instead, she gripped the back of his hair tightly, giving a sharp tug.

He chuckled lowly, chest vibrating and breath ghosting over her face as he adjusted himself and pushed into her. He was slow, agonisingly so, with those calculating eyes took in her every expression as he stretched and filled her, smiling smugly as he felt how wet she was for him

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasped, dipping down to groan into the softness of her breasts. Her body quivered as his tongue traced unholy words on her skin. “It’s such a shame you choose to hide this you.”

“I thought I told you to hurry up,” Akito hissed, tugging his hair again as she longed for the fullness of him inside her and for his mouth to stop talking so much.

Shigure rose and pressed his forehead to hers, his already dark eyes shifting to pure black as his hands settled against her hips. “Don’t say you didn’t ask for it,” he whispered sensuously, ramming fully into her without any other warning. It was enough to steal her breath away, leaving her clinging to him for dear life.

Shigure moaned into the shell of her ear, slurring something about how good she felt as he began to thrust in and out of her. He was forceful enough to make sure her hands were on him at all times, holding onto his back, his ass, any part of him she could reach so long as it made her his.

Her hands traced the muscles on his back, toned and rippling with every pant as he sank into her, hard and full and thick enough to make her gasp with every stroke. Akito shuddered as his hips pulled away, screaming in pleasure when he thrust back into her fully.

His hands slipped to the side of her neck, thumb brushing her chin as he towered over her. “That’s a little loud, love,” he growled, his hand crushing her mouth as his pace intensified, muffling the moans against his skin, capturing them in the palms of his hands as his own heavy breathing filled the room.

He groaned as she tightened in the best way, clenching around his cock as she screamed something that was unmistakeably his name, legs shaking as an orgasm rocked through her. It was almost enough to make him come from the sound alone. He slowed to a stop, brushing Akito’s damp hair out her eyes as she came down from her climax, held up only by his strength alone.

Shigure brought them both to the ground, sitting her against the wall before lounging lazily beside her, his eyes raking across her shaking form as the last shudders of pleasure ran through her.

Her breath was still shallow when she laid eyes on him, trying to decipher that look on his face that lingered somewhere between tortured and pleasured. “What are you thinking?” he asked when she was quiet for longer than she’d intended to be.

“Nothing,” she said, unable to hide the annoyance in her tone. She hated that he was so upfront like that, asking her to bare herself for him whilst never doing it himself.

“It’s not that again is it?” he said with a disappointed lilt to his deep voice.

Akito’s eyes flashed dangerously. “What?” she challenged, hoping, and praying to whatever higher being there was than her that he wasn’t going to bring that woman up. Not now, when he’d just been inside her.

Shigure clearly caught onto how dangerous his words had been and changed his tone completely. “It was nothing, don’t trouble yourself,” he said nonchalantly, as if he was merely going to ask her what the weather was like tomorrow.

But there was that gleam in his eyes that betrayed him.

“No,” Akito said firmly, leaning in closer to him so their faces were merely inches apart. It didn’t escape her notice that he was fully aroused, but she was too focused on his words to care about anything else. “Say it,” she pushed.

He might have been stupid enough to bring up the topic, but she was the one who’d make sure he saw it through. Shigure worked his jaw as he breathed out a wary sigh. His hand ran down his face before resting on the ground in between the two of them. “Akito, the thing with Ren was-”

The back of her hand connected with his face so quickly that she barely had the conscious thought to lash out before she’d already done it.

His head cracked to the side, cheek gleaming red from where the impact of her nails had sliced against his skin like claw marks. Small beads of blood rose to the surface, staining the hair that had flicked across his face.

Shigure was barely phased as he pressed his fingers to his face, smearing a bloody trail down his cheek, proof of her sin. He leaned towards her slowly, grasping her chin in the same bloodied fingers as he forced her to look at him, to stare at those infuriatingly empty eyes, devoid of all emotion.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to do that,” he murmured, his breath pushing against her lips, his nails digging into her jaw. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, he would never go so far as that, but it was uncomfortable to say the least.

“Get off of me,” she growled, attempting to shake her head as she pried at his fingers with her own. But his grip was like a vice, and with every attempt to escape, he only held on to her harder.

His mouth collided with hers, teeth knocking against hers in a violent kiss. She hated that she wanted it, that she returned it instead of shoving him away like she ought, knowing that nothing good could come from this.

“What did you think that would achieve?” he asked, voice a harsh whisper as he dragged mouth along her jaw, teeth scraping along her skin.

“Do you think that hurts me? That it’ll make me weak enough for you to control,” he continued when she said nothing, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest. Akito gasped as his free hand dived between her legs, fingers dipping into her. “Try. Harder.”

She squirmed as he curled his finger, buried inside her to the knuckle. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out as he moved quickly, too quickly. She grabbed at his wrist, pinning it to the ground, his finger covered in her slick as she backed off it.

“What?” Shigure said, raising a single brow at her. “I say one truth that mildly upsets you and suddenly you don’t want this.”

She did want it. She wanted it so bad that she ached for him despite how horrid he was to her. That was what scared her, what made her hesitate.

“You look like you want it,” he said smugly, pulling his hand free and bringing his slick finger to her lips. “See for yourself.” She could taste herself on him, the watery sweetness only further proof of her need for him.

She pushed his hand away once more. “I can do that much without your help.”

“Maybe,” he countered. “But it’s me you’re thinking of when you do it.”

“Is it?” she said, frowning as if in thought. “Because I can think of others who can please me the way I want.”

Shigure clicked his tongue, pulling her by the waist until she rested in his lap. She tried to snap her legs shut but it took him no effort at all to pry them apart. “Two can play at that game,” he whispered against her neck, pushing his hard cock into her with a single smooth thrust.

Akito gasped as he filled her with his warmth just as he had before.

And again, she let him.

Let him lift her hips and slide into her over and over and over at a punishing pace. She hated that she loved it, loved that she hated it. She wanted him to go, but she never wanted him to stop, didn’t want to lose the connection she had to him, the way he made her very soul shudder with delight.

“You know he can never compare right? The one you always run to when things get too hard to handle.”

Akito tried to reply, but he thrust into so hard that she had no breath left to even protest his roughness let alone argue, her arms tight around his neck as she held onto him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said breathlessly when he finally slowed a little. She reached down to trail her fingers down his arms as he continued to pound into her. His muscles flickered under the touch, his cock twitching wildly as he shoved her back roughly, her head knocking hard against the floor as he covered her with his large frame.

“He can never fuck you the way I do. I know you better,” Shigure spat, jealousy simmering off of him in hateful waves with every word as he pressed his body further into hers, moulding himself to the shape of her.

“He can learn,” she bit back.

“No,” he said with a slight shake of his head, frowning as he stared down at her. “There’s no learning you.” One of his hands tangled in her hair, nails dragging down her scalp pleasurably.

“I can make you whine and beg and scream and scratch and claw and bite with every shove of my cock inside you. That’s not something he can learn, no matter how many times you try to convince yourself he’s just as good as me,” he said stonily, catching her lips in a bruising kiss as he picked up the pace, fucking her into the ground with every thrust of his hips, relishing in her breathless moans and whimpers.

She hated that he was right even as she loved the way he stretched her, treated her as anything but a delicate doll, like she couldn’t be broken.

Kureno was … adequate. He was gentle and tender, which was nice until it wasn’t.

He was good until she remembered that Shigure could do all that and this, could be loving and rough all at once. But there was no chance in fiery hell that she would ever admit that to him. Not when he’d slept with her mother, the vile woman who had birthed her and tormented her, all in the name of revenge.

And some revenge it had been, when it was he who had been the first to drift away from her.

“Do you think of me when he’s inside you?”

The words brought her back to the present, and instinctively she pushed against his chest to get away from him and his twisty double-edged words. But he met her resistance with his own, keeping her against him.

“Do you lie back and moan into his ear, pretending that his writhing pleases you when with every thrust you imagine my face on his, my lips on yours, my cock inside you.”

She pressed her hands against his mouth, trying to get him to choke on his own words even as she chased paradise with every lift of her hips to the rhythm of his. But he was trickier than that, of course he was. He opened his mouth under her fingers, sucking on them and making her lose her delicate threads of control.

She pulled back with a loud hiss the second his teeth nipped at her skin, locking her left leg around his and flipping him around so he was underneath her, his hands finding her hips instantly to pull her deeper onto him.

Akito reached out to the side, panting heavily as her hand searched for purchase on anything she could use to her advantage against the man beneath her. It landed on something silky and she pulled it towards her, finding the tie she’d abandoned earlier.

Without another thought, she shoved it into Shigure’s mouth, muffling whatever taunt he was currently in the middle of. It was one way to keep that infuriating mouth of his shut at least she decided, wondering why she hadn’t thought to just gag him sooner. But even still, those damned eyes of his glimmered with mirth.

The bastard was clearly enjoying this.

She supposed she could see why. She was working herself on him and pleasuring them both, whilst all he did was sit back and admire the view. She wanted him to suffer though, she wanted to take and give nothing in return the way he did to her so often that she was left wondering how he had any space left in that tiny heart of his.

She had very few weapons at her disposal, especially now, but there was one that would do the trick just fine.

She lowered herself onto him, deep and full over and over until she felt him begin to twitch wildly inside her, waited for him to throw his head back and moan through the fabric in his mouth. But just before he could find release, she shifted off of him effortlessly, rolling off and to the side in a single fluid motion.

“I’m tired,” she said sourly, ignoring how empty and unfulfilled she felt without him inside her as she turned to face him. “Leave.”

Shigure let out a shocked half-chuckle, partially sitting up on his elbows as if half believing her actions to be a joke. His cock was still hard and pulsing as he pulled the tie from his mouth. “You’re not serious?”

But she was. If he wanted her to get him off, then he would have to beg for it. And she knew he never would.

“I said you can leave now,” she said again, narrowing her eyes dangerously.

“So that’s how it’s going to go, is it?” he said, sitting up fully and facing her. “You get everything you want, and I get to leave unsatisfied.”

Akito said nothing, focusing her gaze on the open window and staring blankly at the moon.

“Of course,” he continued quietly. “That’s how it’s always been and that’s how it always will be,” he said, laughing violently as he threw is head back, his smooth chest glistening in the moonlight.

“Maybe next time you’ll learn to keep your mouth shut whilst in my presence,” Akito snapped.

He pulled on his clothes with venomous force, his lips plastered into a smirk as he dressed himself, kimono draping over his raging boner and hiding it from view. “Maybe next time there won’t be a next time.”

Akito bristled at that, hating that she couldn’t so much as hide how much she hated the thought of that. Of losing him forever.

“You were the one that brought up Kureno,” she spat, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes from pure frustration. “How you were so much fucking better than him.”

“I am,” Shigure yelled back, the mask of indifference slipping for a single moment as hurt flashed across his face. But then it was gone, so quickly that she wondered if it had ever really been or if she’d just imagined it. “And in case you didn’t notice Akito, you liked it.”

“I … didn’t,” she said, her words dying to a whisper.

He sighed, composing himself once more. “Don’t lie to yourself. And don’t worry,” he said, voice as soft as honey, deceptively hiding the anger she knew simmered just below the surface. “I’ll send Kureno to finish what I started. Or perhaps he’s already outside, waiting like the bitch he is.”

With that, Shigure sauntered out the door and Akito felt the tension in the air release. The door slid shut behind him and already she felt her heart ache for his presence, for the feel of him pressing into her, taking up too much space and forcing her to make room for him.

But with him gone, she found herself shaking from the cold night air. The window had been thrown wide all evening, but with Shigure here sharing his warmth, she’d barely noticed it. Akito stood to close it before heading into the bathroom.

She didn’t recognise the person in the mirror. Dishevelled hair and red-rimmed eyes stared back at her. Shigure’s blood was still smeared against her chin like a mark of possession, reminding her that she was his no matter how much she denied it or fought against it.

She ran a finger down her skin, the blood mixing with the light sheen of sweat on her face. It disgusted her. He disgusted her.

Akito slammed open the tap and threw hot water onto her face, scrubbing brutally at her skin to remove every trace of him. She dunked her head under the water and when even that wasn’t enough, she walked into the shower and turned it so hot that it almost seared her skin, letting it burn away the remnants of his touch as she scoured herself raw.

It was a long while before she felt clean again, pure. But though her body had been cleansed, her mind was anything but. As she stepped out of the steam and stared at herself again, skin as pink as a new-born and hair hanging damp around her face, thoughts of Shigure pressed her again.

He was exasperating and maddening, but she couldn’t help but long for his touch again. For his lips to kiss every inch of her skin, to find rapture every time he sank into her, for him to call her beautiful, call her his.

Akito ran a finger down her chin, tracing where his blood had stained her chin. It was gone now, but she could still feel like, like an invisible scar binding her to a man she despised often and loved often more.

Shigure was bound to her by a chain entirely other to the zodiac bond they shared, but somehow this one seemed more powerful, more important. Though all the zodiac members held the potential to hurt her, to leave her and pain her, Shigure alone held the power to ruin her.

And he would.

Given half a chance, he would destroy her and everything she stood for. And yet Akito knew that all the broken pieces of her would continue to find a way to love him anyway. To cut him and make him bleed, but also to love him so brutally that there’d be nothing left of her.

They say the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. And so what if the one you know is the worst of them all. So what if he’s difficult and manipulative and definitely worse than anyone else out there. What does that matter when sometimes he’s yours and yours alone, fucking you senseless in a hell of your own making.

Hell is where the devil belongs after all. And Akito knew she belonged right there with him.

#akigure #fruits basket #better the devil you know #someone please throw me in the sin bin #i can't even explain what this is

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mc-lukanette · 3 years

Text

Luka groaned, sitting on the edge of the Liberty and running his fingers through his hair, still lamenting how badly he'd messed up even though a week had passed. Being in his temporary spirit form didn't give him any right to take things as far as he did, yet he'd gone through with it anyway. He imagined that Anarka would've been proud, but to him, that was all the more reason to regret what had happened.

And all for a girl. Taking advantage of his family's chaotic connections to spirits and the like to use it for himself? Granted, he supposed that's what the Couffaine family had always stood for - personal happiness - but that didn't make it right.

In the middle of his mental scolding, he heard a voice call out from behind him. "...U-um, hello?"

Luka stiffened at the familiar voice, but ultimately chose to ignore it. He'd long since gotten used to people seeming to talk to him when they actually weren't, and that 99.99% of Paris wasn't able to even see him anyway.

"Ah—" the voice spoke again. "Y-you! With the highlights!"

He blinked in surprise at that, then looked around for Juleka or just generally anyone with highlights. Finding no one, he finally turned around, noticing the girl - Marinette - staring directly at him from across the Seine. He pointed at himself, just to be absolutely sure, and she nodded at him.

If he had a heart right now, it would've skipped a beat. It didn't make sense. There were limitations to his spirit form concerning who could and could not see him while he was in that state.

The only way she should've been able to see him was if she loved him in some capacity.

He stood, hopping off the edge of the Liberty and floating over to her. There was a certain level of shock and awe in her expression, but she nevertheless stepped back to make room for him to land in front of her.

"Um." She twirled a strand of hair, staring down at the ground. "Sorry, this is all a little weird for me, but you—" She peeked up at him. "You were possessing A-adrien all that time, right...? I-I saw you fly out of him r-right before I was about to kiss—um—you? Adrien? I don't know."

He frowned regretfully. "I'm so sorry. I knew it was his attention you wanted, but I—"

"N-no! No!" she interrupted, flailing her arms at him. "That's..." She fidgetted, toying with the bottom of her shirt. "That's what I came to talk to you about?"

He tilted his head, not understanding but seeing how much effort she seemed to be taking to talk with him.

"I—" She sighed. "This is going to sound so dumb. I don't even know your name, but... s-see, I got to spend some time with Adrien after you left, and it just—wasn't the same."

He imagined it was a stupid question, but couldn't help asking anyway, "Isn't that a good thing? You wanted to spend time with the real Adrien, right?"

Her blush deepened. "I did. I thought I did, anyway, but I mean that it wasn't the same because I liked spending time with you more. I idolized Adrien, but when I got to see the real him..." She slumped, seeming regretful. "I ended up disappointed. All I could think of was when it was you and how calm and comfortable you made me feel. I..."

She met his gaze, her eyes staring into his so intensely that he swore it was having an effect on his physical body.

Rushing out the rest of the words, she stammered, "I-I fell in love with you!"

Luka’s jaw dropped. Had she really just said that, or had he actually died and this was just some sort of afterlife hallucination?

Meanwhile, Marinette looked away in shame, apparently embarrassed by her own confession. "A-anyway, I just had to say that. If the whole possessing thing was just a prank, that's okay. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

He snapped back into focus as she turned away and began to walk off. He reached out in a futile attempt to grab her hand but, failing that, hurried to get in front of her. She stopped - which was great because she could've just walked through him if she really wanted - then looked up at him in confusion.

"It wasn't a prank," he corrected. "Not at all."

"R-really?" she asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

"I'm not the type of person who'd just possess someone, and I knew it wasn't right, but—" His gaze softened, posture relaxing at the memory. "I saw you and that was all I needed. You were a music box begging to be listened to, and I wanted nothing more than to do just that. When I saw you were into Adrien, I thought maybe I could help so you could be happy. I thought I could have him spend time with you or mess around with his schedule, and I tried to excuse it by saying that he'd be happy in the end because who wouldn't be happy with you?" He sighed, the regretful feelings coming back. "But I got selfish. I loved hanging out with you so much that I kept up the act way longer than I should've. I fell for you, and it was only when you were about to kiss me—Adrien—that I realized how much I'd been deceiving you."

She blushed at that. Placing a hand to her heart, clearly touched, she asked, "B-but you just wanted me to be happy? Even though..."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Even if my real body wasn't unconscious right now, you were in love with someone else."

She let out a breath, and he couldn't tell if she was relieved or merely absorbing everything he'd said. It took a few seconds for her to smile, echoing him with, "Were. Past tense."

"Ah—" Right. She'd just confessed to him. "Yeah..."

They stayed in that silence for a moment, Luka watching as the nervousness Marinette had shown before ebbed itself away, her back straightening and her previous shyness disappearing. As if she were having a casual conversation with him, she asked, "Can I have your name then?"

She'd surprised him yet again. It wasn't as if it was a weird thing to ask, given that they technically knew each other in a way, but he was still having a hard time grasping how serious she seemed to be about this. "Marinette, I'm grateful, I'm happy, but I don't have anything to offer you like this." He gestured to himself. "Almost no one can see me but you. I don't know when my body's going to wake up. You can't even touch me."

"That's okay." She giggled. "You were always so respectful of touching me in Adrien's body anyway so it's not like that much will change."

He let out a shocked noise from his throat, unable to believe that she had the capacity to joke when he was bringing up what he felt were extremely legitimate concerns. Yet, there she was, standing confidently in her feelings and doing far too much to him emotionally than should've been possible to happen to a spirit.

He exhaled despite not needing to, mostly just to fill the silence, then replied softly, "Luka."

"Luka," Marinette repeated, beaming at him. "My secret boyfriend. I like it."

Luka was speechless, even as she bid him a fond farewell and walked away. He was glad to be invisible to most of the world, since he was sure he looked stupid standing there. Marinette was not only okay with the knowledge of his deception, but apparently they were dating now?

Eventually, he got himself to move and fly back to the Liberty, returning to his sitting position with very different feelings than before. He passed the time by replaying the scene in his head, just to make sure it really happened and that there was no way he could've somehow made it up.

Juleka returned home within the hour, though he didn't notice her until she was crossing the gangplank with a firm, "Hey."

He looked up, and she was halfway down the steps before her expression contorted into abject horror. She recoiled from him, falling back onto the gangplank and shielding herself with an arm.

"What’s wrong?" he asked.

"Ugh." She made a vague gesture at him with her free hand. "You're radiating mushy love energy. At least do it at the front of the ship where it's not in my face."

That was when it registered with Luka that it was real; that Marinette really showed up, confessed to him, and called him her boyfriend. He broke out into a smile, even as Juleka practically begged him to "tone it down."

"Sorry, Jule," he said, very much not sorry, "I think I'll be playing at full blast for a while."

#lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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m-y-fandoms · 4 years

Text

[SDR2 Girls] x selectively mute reader - imagines

Request: SDR2 Girls reacting to hearing a selectively mute S/O speak for the first time, please!!

Sure thing! Also, so that more people can relate and read this with themselves in mind, if you want to, you can read this as an s/o who simply doesn’t talk often due to shyness, idk. I wrote it with selectively mute in mind like the request says though. Also, some of these take place in SDR2, some in DR3 the anime, in Hope’s Peak Academy. - Admin Kokichi

Warnings: selectively mute reader, implied past trauma, self-hate and doubt, insecurities, mild and not in detail, always resolved with fluff.

Mahiru Koizumi

“(S/O), what do you think of these ones?” Your loving, strong-willed girlfriend, Mahiru Koizumi splayed out a bunch of photos before you, carefully ordering them in a particular way and looking to you with an almost nervous anticipation in her eyes that was uncharacteristic of her. She stood behind you, looking over your shoulder anxiously. She valued your opinion highly, above most of the artists and creative minds she’d become acquainted with in her years of expert-level photography.

Your eyes scanned the pictures thoughtfully, appreciating every inch, every focal point, every hidden meaning. You took in the composition, the symbolism, the saturation. Your girlfriend was so passionate, so gifted, and far too hard on herself. Slowly, your brows raised. She took this expression immediately to mean disapproval, and began to defend herself.

“I know, I know. I was trying to do a series here. It was a new concept I’m trying... a bit too bold I think for now. I should stick to just quality headshots for the time being, that was my last concept. Following the first photo, the rest were suppose to connect and flow like a story but I understand if it’s not coming through-” you interrupted her speedy string of words, the shield she put around herself and her work.

“This is the best one yet!” Your mouth hung open, lost in the colors. Your eyes swam, bouncing from polaroid to polaroid.

“No, be honest because like-” Her eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “(S-S/O)???” She spun you around to face her, tears at the corners of her eyes. She pulled you into her chest, nearly squeezing the life out of you. All doubts about her work went out the window. If it was good enough to make you speak, it was good enough for her.

She left little pecks all over your cheeks, and insisted of taking a photo to remember this moment.

Peko Pekoyama

Being rather quiet and reserved herself, Peko didn’t mind your timid nature. She knew of trauma, seeing much of it growing up in the yakuza way of life. She had trauma of her own, and had caused others great trauma in the line of duty, protecting her Young Master. Once she’d started dating you officially, she’d become your sword and your shield, quite literally as well as emotionally. She didn’t need words. She knew how you felt, when to back off, when you needed comfort. Being intuitive, preceptive, strong-willed and incredibly intelligent made her your perfect defender, your rock.

She was used to you pointing, signing, even drawing out your feelings at times, and didn’t need to know what your voice sounded like to love you, but when you spoke up, breaking your silence, for her sake nonetheless, she held back tears, eyes glistening.

“Peko, I worry that you’re not happy sometimes… the Kuzuryuu’s overwork you. I want you to be happy.” You’d been sitting across from her in the dining hall, just the two of you all alone, Fuyuhiko having ordered her to fuck off for the day. Your voice was small, gentle, barely existent, but it was there. Her intense, scarlet eyes flew up to your mouth, sure her mind was playing tricks on her. She could tell from your posture and expression the past hour that you’d had something on your mind. Something was bothering you, but surely that hadn’t prompted actually speech?

“(S/O)... did you just speak to to me?” Peko spoke concisely, purposefully like always. You nodded nervously. Maybe you’d overstepped by bringing up her line of work or the Kuzuryuu clan. It wasn’t your place. She’d been doing that far longer than you’d been with her.

At your reply, the swords-woman merely closed her eyes pensively, almost appearing to be in a state of meditation. A small, barely noticeable smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She was elated, ecstatic that you’d chosen to speak for her, that you loved and trusted her this much, but she wasn’t one to make a big scene of things.

“I appreciate your concern for me, but no matter how hard I work, being with you makes me happy, preforming my duties make me happy. I’m sorry if I ever gave you reason to doubt either of those facts.” Her steady, confident hand reached out and stroked your back lovingly. You smiled, leaning into her touch.

Ibuki Mioda

Ibuki talked enough for the both of you. You found comfort in the way she could endlessly hold a conversation where you could not. She made friends with ease and people loved her. Sometimes you feared that you held her back, that your quiet personality and baggage from your past was a grey stain on her neon spirit.

Despite your doubts, Ibuki never hesitated to show her love for you. She held your hand all the time, regardless of if you needed that physical comfort at the moment. She carried the conversations, easily rolling with your signing, gesturing, and nods. She never forced you, never pushed your barriers, taking you completely as you are. You’d seen her bite people, scream, pull people away into her manic fantasies and crazy ideas, but with you she was a bit more patient, reserved.

“Ibuki... w-why do you go easy on me? You’re so wild and free with e-everyone else... I hope I’m not holding y-you back,” you stuttered, fighting back tears. You weren’t really in the mood to talk, but this question had been burning in the back of your mind for too long. Ibuki’s fiery eyes widened. Her hands flew to her cheeks in a state of amazement and awe. You smiled sheepishly at her, completely in love with how passionate and alive she was at all times.

“Whaaaa?! (S/O)!!! Your voice is like, totally adorable!!! Ibuki love-love’s it!” She ran over to you and wrapped her arms snuggly around your waist before jumping up and down in place, ignoring your actual question completely.

That was your Ibuki.

“But-”

“You think Ibuki goes easy on you!?!?! Perish the thought, oh lovey dovey lover of mine! If this is going too easy on you, I can go harder!!!!” She pulled away, shredding an air guitar in front of you with her teeth gritted in false exertion. You could tell she was purposely ignoring your second comment, the one about you holding her back. Ibuki didn’t like to focus on the negative, and her not answering your silly, nonsense question was her was of saying it was in fact a silly, nonsense question. She loved you, and she wanted to be with you.

No if, and’s, or but’s about it.

Mikan Tsumiki

Mikan was rushing back and forth, cleaning up messes, doing paperwork, organizing her backpack. The nurse’s office would be a hell hole without her. Hope’s Peak wasn’t even paying her for her endless duties as the nurse’s assistant, which was an outrage in your mind already, but then she spent every day fretting over homework, her studies, her friends, her job, and your relationship with her. It was criminal, the stress life put on that girl.

Today was no different. Mikan had been to class, the to the nurse’s office to tend to ill students, then back to class, then lunch, and now here she was again, nearly in tears as she tidied up the actual nurse’s files in-between writing her own notes and research. She never let up on researching and perfecting her ultimate talent, and feared letting down anyone in her life, whether they deserved her attention or not.

You sat on a hospital bed behind your frantic girlfriend, watching her struggle with a lump in your throat. You technically weren’t allowed to just be here unless you were sick, but the nurse hardly ever did her job, so she would never find out. Mikan sat before you, her cheeks wet and a grimace seemingly permanently etched into her face. You couldn’t take it any more. You stood, walking over to her and grabbing the files and pen from her hand. She let out a small yelp of surprise, so entranced with her work that she didn’t even notice your approach. You placed the cursed objects down, and wrapped your arms around her tightly.

“Mikan, please. You need to slow down. You can’t keep working this hard.” Your voice shook, jittery as you buried your head into her shoulder. She jumped, startled by your actions.

“(S-S-S/O)! Y-you just spoke! You just spoke to m-me!” She froze, excited, anxiety-ridden, surprised, overwhelmed all at the same time. “Your voice is s-so cute! S-Sorry! Sorry if that’s weird to say!” Her bandaged hands reached up, grasping onto your forearms embracing her chest.

“It’s not weird, but did you hear me?” It was imperative to you that she understood, that she agreed to pace herself, to put herself first from now on. You couldn’t watch her stress herself into an early grave any longer. With her already existing tendency to trip and fall clumsily, she didn’t need this constant stress and exhaustion to cause even more accidents.

“Y-yes. Yes. I heard you. I’m sorry for not answering. I’m so s-stupid! I should’ve b-ben listening closer, eh!” She shook her head frantically, holding back tears. You only squeezed her tighter.

“You’re not stupid. I love you, Tsumiki.” She stiffened up, then began to sob loudly, snot and tears rolling down her face. These words were so new to her, so unfamiliar. She didn’t feel like she deserved your love, but yes, she loved you, too.

She loved you more than herself, more than work or school, more than nursing.

More than life itself.

Hiyoko Saionji

You loved Hiyoko, you really did, but she got on even your nerves at times. Your relationship with her started as one mutual respect, a kind of unspoken agreement that she would be little nicer to you than she was to others. She liked you, physically and mentally. She found you attractive in every way, and showed it the only way she could at first: by teasing, by bullying you, but you never responded, never gave her the satisfaction of a response. She liked that. Well, she hated it outwardly. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn’t get a rise out of you, but inside her admiration for you only grew with every exchange.

She started to treat you like a best friend, an older sibling like Mahiru, and loved that you could keep up with her, that you weren’t intimidated by her, or at least if you were, you didn’t show it. She eventually pushed her pride aside enough to ask you out, wanting to make you hers before anyone else could, and you accepted, but again, it didn’t mean she didn’t get on your nerves from time to time.

Today in particular, she was trying your patience. Everything you did, she complained about or belittled. She was teasing you, in some horrible mood today, demeaning everything move you made. You’d been spending the entire day together, and it was going a little something like this:

You went to the diner, she criticized your choice of food.

You went to the beach house, she made fun of the way you bonked your head off a surf board in the storage room.

You swam at the beach with some of your classmates, she pointed out the silly way your wet clothes clung to your body.

Now you were back in your cabin with her, just shooting the breeze and making small talk, when she waltzed out of your bathroom with something in her hands. Something of yours.

“What is this? I didn’t know you were this kind of pervert! Gross!” She cackled, holding up a pair of your underwear that were, let’s just say, maybe a more flashy and indulgent... not for daily or casual use. You’d discarded them just before your shower the night before, and forget that you’d simply left them on the bathroom tiles.

You felt your cheeks heat up as she feigned disgust, swinging the garments around while continuing to comment and mock you loudly. You fists began to shake, and your blood felt like it was boiling.

“Can’t you ever just give it a fucking break, you little troll?!” You marched forward, snatched the underwear from her hand, snarling inches from her face. A look of shock and horror crossed her face, and you both stood there, frozen for a few moments. Then, impishly, mischievously, her hand slipped up to cover her mouth, and she smirked devilishly.

“Well, well, it’s about time you showed some back bone. Put me in my place, pervert~!” She giggled maniacally, stroking your cheek with one hand. “That was kinda hot.” Your cheeks continued to heat up, but now it was more from a flustered feeling in the pit of your stomach rather than anger

Chiaki Nanami

You’d been dating Chiaki for a long while now. You guys went together like peanut butter and jelly. She was quiet, a bit lazy, low maintenance, and didn’t require you to speak endlessly... or ever really. She didn’t talk much herself, but she would when she needed to. You see, Chiaki could’ve been the ultimate empath, in her own right. She could feel for others, support them, comfort them, read their hearts, give the best advice. When it came to the things that really mattered, she was never one to slack off and be lazy. She was your perfect match.

What’s more, her main hobby and passion, gaming, often didn’t require any speech, any communication at all. You either watched her play, resting your head in her lap silently, or during co-op, the game either guided you with tutorials, or Chiaki herself did all of the talking, looking to you for nods of confirmation. You two spent hours upon days upon weeks like that, just enjoying one game after the next. She often even let you choose the game, loving all genres herself.

Today was the day: you were going to finally tell her how you feel. You were going to work up the courage and speak your heart. Of course, Chiaki knew you cared about her, and you knew she cared about you... but was it love? Did she really love you, or were you just comfortable, easy to deal with, her little outlet for social interaction? Were you just best friends, platonic soul-mates with the false label of a romantic relationship? Today you’d find out.

You and Chiaki sat in her dorm as usual, in the dark with only a screen lighting her face gently. A soft blue glow softened her adorable features, and you felt your heart flutter. God you loved her so much...

Scooting closer to her on the ground, you placed your head into her lap, heart beating at the speed of light.

“Chiaki?” You spoke quietly, gently, anxiously.

“Hmm?” she hummed in acknowledgement, her fingers never halting their rapid movements on the controller in her hands.

“I... I love you.” You inhaled sharply and held that breath, heart thrashing violently against your ribcage. You waited eagerly for a response that you both desperately needed and were terrified to hear.

Chiaki simply smiled warmly, the sounds of gunshots and a level-up in your ears as you waited. She didn’t make a big deal of your speaking. She knew it would come eventually, when you were ready and comfortable.

“I love you, too, (S/O).” She gently stroked your hair with one hand, reassuring and calming you, masterfully owning the battlefield with just one spare hand.

Sonia Nevermind

“I just don’t see why the others won’t try it out with me! You’d think even one of them would be interested!” You sat across from your regal lover, watching her throw her little tantrum in her unique and particular way of speaking. You loved the way she put accents on certain syllables, the way she messed up common lingo or phrases at times. It was so adorable. You couldn’t expect someone who knew dozens of languages to be perfectly fluent in all of them. “You know what I mean?” You nodded enthusiastically, lost dreamily in her eyes.

She stood, beginning to pace back and forth in the dining hall on the second floor of the restaurant, a clear nobility to her strut. It was clear in her tone that she was used to giving orders, to speaking with purpose so that others would listen with fervor.

“I mean, all I wanted was to try cosplaying, just once with everyone. Father never let me at home. He says it’s a silly past-time, and gets in the way of my royal duties!” She paused, fists in front of her chest in a gesture of exasperation. You nodded, eyes trailing up and down her milky skin. Wow, how did you get so lucky? “Hajime said he’d feel silly dressing up, Mahiru said she is busy, but I know she is not! Akane said it just wasn’t her thing. How does she even know unless she tries?!” You nodded, watching her chest rise and fall passionately. “I need at least five people to do this! It’s a group cosplay! Why don’t they understand? And Chiaki is nowhere to be found! She’d say yes, I know it!” She stuck one finger out matter-of-factly. Her eyes met yours, and she frowned slightly. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to sound ungrateful. It means a lot that you said you’d do it with me-”

“You are so beautiful when you’re all riled up...” You spoke, your head resting in your hand lazily. You felt in a daze, so enraptured were you with her aura, her energy. Her eyes widened a bit, before she rushed over to you, cooing and giggling like a fool. “S-Sonia!” Your princess, so strong and bold despite her demure and innocent appearance, scooped you out of your chair and into her arms, twirling you about in the air.

“Ahaha! My, my! I will have to get riled up more often if I get to hear your voice as a reward, my love!” She nuzzled her button nose against yours, setting your heart aflame.

Akane Owari

You sat in your room, crying, weeping softly into your blanket. Today had been a horrible day. Not only were you suffering the normal anxiety about being in this killing game, but you were already a naturally stressed person despite that, and today, your insecurities and self-doubt were at an all time high after a savage bullying session from Hiyoko. Your pillow was now soaked, and your body was shaking. Hiyoko really knew how to wound a person at their very core.

“(S/O)! Check this shit out! Teruteru-” Your lively, protective girlfriend, Akane, came bursting into your room, startling you half to death. She halted in her tracks upon seeing the tears streaking your face and the pink puffiness of your eyes. On her own face, numerous crumbs from various fried meats and sauces from what were no doubt extravagant dishes were displayed proudly, sticking to her chin and cheeks. In her hand was a silver platter of what was unmistakably the offending feast. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Who do I need to beat the shit outta?!” She set the platter on your bed, rushing to your side and hugging you to her ample bosom. You looked up at her, shaking your head softly and wiping some crumbs from her cheek. “Who is it?!”

She was starting to get frustrated. You shook your head again. Akane didn’t mean to get mad at you, and truly, she was more upset at the situation than at you. You knew that. Akane was simply a fire-brand: strong, short-tempered, loud and opinionated. You never took her outbursts seriously.

“So you’re just sad? It’s one of those days? Nothing happened?” You nodded. “Something did happen?” You nodded again. “Gahhhh this is so hard without you talkin’ and shit!” She threw her hands up in the air, fuming until she saw your lip start to tremble, a wetness glossing your eyes. She sighed, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Look... you know I love ya, (S/O). I’m sorry for being a loud-mouth asshole. I’m not mad at you.” She squeezed you tight enough to break a bone, but then pulled you away, looking into your eyes deeply. “Who?” Now she was dead serious.

“Hiyoko...” You nearly whispered, but it was there. Your voice was there. Akane blinked once, twice, her head tilting slightly. Had she heard that right? She was looking for an answer, but she’d never actually prepared for one. Slowly, her shock, rounded out lips turned upward into a devious smirk. She stood, walking briskly toward the door. “Akane-!” You reached out after her. She spun on her heel, hands on her hips.

“I’m gonna go give that little shit a piece of my fist!” She turned to leave again, a shit-eating grin on her face. Pausing, she twisted around again to face you, pointing her finger toward you with gusto. “And when I come back, I’m gonna ravish you, babe! You better be ready!” And she sprinted out the door, leaving it wide open in her wake.

Your cheeks had never been so warm.

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kibybun · 4 years

Note

What about a yandere scientist au? (Poly yanderes mha you decide). Yanderes try "altering" like Handmaid's Tale style their darling to love them but they don't realize the phrase be careful what you wish for. "Boite en argent" is a song that I think suits the darlings monologue.

Ooo! I love this idea, its dark and twisted! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Yandere Poly Todoroki and Momo x reader Science Handmaid's Tale au!

Tw: Yandere, manipulation, gore, implied rape

Enjoy!

🧪In a world where fertal women are wanted and practically inslaved, you are unfortunately fertal.

🧪You didn't have a husband, wife, or kids so atleast you didn't have to go through that pain. You didn't appreciate being stripped from your home and put through a "training" program.

🧪You made friends to whisper plans and secrets to, excited to make such good friends even though the circumstances are so grim.

🧪Of course, all wasn't so peachy. You had a hard time concealing your personality and may have lost a finger or two.

🧪But that didn't matter now, today you got assigned your "commander" as they were called. A silly named for religious cult leaders but you still went along with it. You didn't want to get your mouth sewn after all.

🧪All the girls were thrown into a car and sent off to their new homes. There you'll get your new name, have to cook, go to the store, get punished, and be held down as you're raped as a "ceremony".

🧪You wanted to fight back, to break free, to run but you know if you do the consequences would be great. You needed to think through your plan and you'll succeed.

🧪You arrive at your new home and are guided in by an Aunt. Inside you meet your commander and mistress.

🧪You peep up at them through glances as the Aunt and them talk. The commander had white and red hair split down the middle with a scar on the eye of the side with red hair, a stacotic expression resting on his face. The mistress had long black hair and grey eyes, a far too kind expression rested on her face.

🧪The Aunt introduced you as Of'Todoroki, the new handmaid of this household. Then the Aunt leaves you, saying she'll check in within the next week.

🧪Once she leaves the mistress bounces over to you, happily taking off your bonnet and introducing herself as Momo.

🧪You were shocked. They shouldn't be this nice. They should've made you go to your room or something, not greet you with smiles and warmth.

🧪It was a test. If you failed you'll be punished and sent back.

🧪You gently grab your bonnet back and thank the mistress for her kindness.

🧪Her and her husband laugh, claiming it was ridiculous how formal you were being. They then lead you to your room, Momo gushing about how adorable you looked confused as her husband stayed silent.

🧪You hated this already. If this was some sick test they wanted you to fail at they were definitely going to have to try harder. You lost fingers for your defiance, you weren't planning on losing more.

🧪You take in the dark decoration of the house. All dark colors with pictures of anatomy or something gorey decorating the place. It was disturbing.

🧪Once at your new room the mistress happily shows you all the little trinkets and decorations she had put up for you.

🧪You tell she was too kind and that you didn't deserve all of this.

🧪Fear washes over you as her eyes water and asks if you don't like if. You quickly tell her you do just you don't think you've earned or deserve this.

🧪Her husband, who you learned is Shoto, walks up and puts a hand on her shoulder. He comforts her and tells her that you're new here, you'll adjust and it'll all be good.

🧪Then he looks at you, cold eyes unreadable. He tells you exactly what your thinking. It wasn't a test. They prefer to have someone they can connect with rather than treat as an emotionless slave.

🧪He tells you to apologize to Momo. You do, sincerely and full heartedly. You still didn't fully trust the "equality" side of their kindness but maybe it was an opportunity to escape.

🧪She wipes her tears hugs you, something that you had had in such a long time. You almost hug back before she pulls back and says she'll call you when dinner is ready.

🧪She leaves but the commander stays. He pats your head in a way you can't understand and says he understands if it takes some time to adjust, then he walks away.

🧪You listen as their conversation and footsteps fade. You were alone now. You take this chance to look around at the other gorey pictures hung up in your new room, the little trinkets scattered around the room, and the bed that looked so much more comfortable than any other bed you've seen since your time here.

🧪You wanted to explore your room more, maybe even some other places in the house, but as soon as you layed on the bed you passed out. Pathetic but it was the best sleep you've had in months.

🧪You wake up to Momo's voice cooing in you ear with Shoto's farther away. You didn't have to open your eyes to know they were right next to you.

🧪Your face must've twitched letting them know you're now awake because they started laughing, saying it was cute you were just letting them gush over you like this.

🧪You try to sit up but they stop you, arms wrapping around you with Momo's face right in front of yours. She stares at your face with a smile that was, again, to warm and sweet for a place like this.

🧪She tells you that you didn't come down when she called for dinner so she sent Shoto to fetch you. They were so surprised to find such a cute sight! You all curled up and sleeping warmed their hearts and made them so happy!

🧪You tense as you feel the commander's breath on the back of your neck as he agrees with his wife.

🧪They slowly start asking you about yourself as they continue to hold you there. Your old name, what you did for a living, your favorite foods, colors, etc. You answered all of them hesitantly, unsure if this was allowed but you went along seeing how happy they were when you did answer.

🧪Yoh were about to answer how many siblings you had when Shoto let you go, standing and pulling you up with. He tells the two of you that diners probably already cold.

🧪Momo jumps up and says she'll go reheat it. leaving you with Shoto.

🧪He looks at you and tells you that all you need to do is remember your manners and be nice, then your life her will be paradise. Then he walks away, signaling for you to follow.

🧪That's how everyday went. You woke up with one or both of them cuddling you. Then you'd get dressed and eat breakfast before one of them drags you off to help them work or just to smother you. You help make lunch and they switch you off so the other has equal time with you. You help make dinner and finally gets time to yourself, allowing you to plan your escape.

🧪Though, they treated you so well even if they were a tad bit clingy. You knew that no other house was as nice. On one of the off occasions they send you to the store you ran into one of your friends, now Of'Bakugo. She did something wrong, she wouldn't talk about what, and had her ear blown off with her commander's quirk.

🧪You were lucky indeed.

🧪Well, untill it was time for the ritual.

🧪How could you let yourself trust them? You were stuck in a place where they raped people for children then tossed them aside, why did you think you were different?

🧪The whole time you tried to picture yourself somewhere, anywhere, else but they kept bringing you back with cooing in your ear or actually touching you.

🧪Hands touching everything, face being caressed and kissed upon. You hated it so much. It reminded you that everything was fake, that you needed to escape.

🧪After that night everything shifted. You no longer wanted to comply to their polyamorous dream. You wanted to either be treated like how you were trained to be so you had more time to plan your escape or to just be free.

🧪They absolutely despised this. They continue to try and treat you like their little girl or Momo treating you like a little kid.

🧪Momo was someone to worry about. Mainly because if she cries to her husband you'd get punished.

🧪You didn't let her spoin feed you breakfast while Shoto worked, causung her to start to cry. He stormed out of his office and smacked you out of your chair. You had a bruise on your face for a few days after.

🧪Shoto didn't mind your distance though. He only wanted you to be nice to Momo and keep your manners. He doesn't seem like the type to fear but he certainly was.

🧪They were growing desperate for your presence, your love, your sas, your anything at this point. They tried so many physical punishments, they never could part with you longer than an hour or so.

🧪They turned to adding more "rituals" into the month, wanting to feel close to you again. You didn't want that. You tried to fight back in subtle ways.

🧪Mainly not looking at them at all.

🧪Oh, how it hurt to be neglected by someone you wanted to be loved by. If you didn't want to look at them why should you be able to look at anything else?

🧪All it took was holding you down and carefully pouring in the yellow acid. The neighbors flinched and tensed at the thought of how you were being punished due to the unsettling screams they heard.

🧪All you could see was color now. Though, that was still a difficult task. You made sure to looks at their blurry colors whenever they so desired.

🧪But you were still determined to escape, not fall back into their trap.

🧪Their punishments slowed though. They didn't like seeing you in pain, they wanted to see you smile. Plus they were planning something different.

🧪They were both skilled neurologists so why don't they just make you love them? It'd save the painful nights of trying to train you to love them.

🧪While you slept they carefully brought you to the lab, making sure you were asleep.

🧪They were careful not to take off too much hair as they cut through your scalp and proceed to crave their way into your skull. They start picking out parts of you brain, merely molecules, and sew your head up. This was a long process after all.

🧪Everynight they crack open your skull and rewrite what they want. Your skull will neck be the same but they plan on replacing the broken bits with a metal plate anyway.

🧪When you wake up in the mornings Momo or Shoto are always there to greet you, feed you, and ask how you're feeling. It you said or even made a hint of discomfort they'd instantly shove pills in your mouth. It helped dull the pain but it didn't mask the disoriented feeling that lingered.

🧪You slowly forgot your life before. Job, friends, your old name, even what you look like. All you could see was the colors of you. You only knew commander Shoto and mistress Momo. You remember all the things they did to you but it was out of love right? They just love you that much right?

🧪It took four months to get the results they wanted. You wanting to be aroynd more, slowly showing more affection, even holding their hands or kidsing their cheecks. It was every they wanted and more.

🧪They didn't know you were watches them sleep, smelling them. Caressing a pair of scissors before cutting off small locks of hair which was a particularly tricking task, but you only managed to cut yourself thankfully.

🧪You collected so many things from the loves of your life, keeping them in a silver box hidden in the wall. It was a small hole in the closet that you hid it in.

🧪You only had hair, spit, and other bodily things but a whole new world opened up for you when you for the anesthetics they used. Now you have teeth, blood, and the taste of their skin you'll always cherish.

🧪They only notice when they see love bites along their bodies along with teeth missing. They slowly grow aware of the blushed looks you give them, how you shake as you try and touch them, how they always feel watched now.

🧪They enjoyed your affection but it scared them. They didn't want you to get upset or get executed so they were stuck. You finding new things to take from them while they slept, leaving horribly stitched lines across their bodies.

🧪They saw their deaths coming due to your horrible medical practices along with you trying to take organs now. Momo pleaded with Shoto, begging he didn't hurt you but you were killing his wife. He loved you but she mattered more.

🧪Just a simple injection, you deserved a painless death in their eyes.

🧪They recover, fixing each other's cuts and heal their broken hearts. You were their favorite handmaid they've had so far.

🧪But the past was the past, and they wanted a family.

🧪The doors open and another trained girl walks in, head raised this time. They adjusted to the household faster than you did.

🧪"Welcome home Of'Todoroki."

Kiby~💚

#yandere todoroki #yandere momo #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere shoto x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #bnha #bnha Shoto #bnha Todoroki #bnha momo #yandere bnha #my hero academia #yandere my hero academia #trigger #trigger warning #triggers

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agirlandhermonster · 3 years

Text

Starter for @rulesxunbroken

30 days. One full moon cycle. Okay, yes, more accurately put, it would be 29.5 days, but Samira wasn’t about to split hairs about a measly 12 hours when her own soul hung in the balance.

Just a few years ago, she would have said that there was no such things as curses and demons and horrifying other realms where life wasn’t really life, it was just survival until death. But now? Now she was in possession of an Eldritch horror all her own, complete with tentacles and a host of strange side effects that came with living in symbiosis with said creature.

The demoness that had tricked her into this particular situation had come to Samira in her hour of need, when the girl was mere hours from the other side, offering her her life back if only Samira would fulfill a small favour. Thanks to the amount of medications pumping through her system, the hospital’s attempt to help ease the pain and pressure of her failing organs, she’d seen the frightening horned woman as nothing more than a near-death hallucination.

What harm could indulging a hallucination do? And hell, if she were real, then Samira would live to see 30, all for the low cost of giving what she assumed would be another demon a place to stay for a bit.

But we all know how deals with the devil tend to go, and so they went.

30 days.

For the first time since that fateful deal, Samira had found herself in the company of the demoness who’d tricked her into hosting the monster she’d come to call Poppy, and the woman almost wished she were still enjoying the calming effects of a truly ridiculous amount of morphine pumping through her veins, as it might have made the meeting slightly less terrifying.

It’s about time you fulfill your end of the deal, my little horror.

The monster in Samira’s head seemed to cringe. She couldn’t see it, but she felt it. But when she opened her mouth to try and ask just what was going on, it was Poppy that spoke through her.

Already? Poppy’s voice was Samira’s voice, accompanied by a lilt, high and low, like an echo. Samira prodded Poppy inwardly for answers but the monster paid her no mind.

You’ve had your time, now it’s my turn. You know what to do, and I expect you to do so, lest you find yourself in a far more unpleasant situation than the one in which I found you.

Poppy’s anxiety raised Samira’s heart rate, and yet the woman was still ignored. Poppy nodded with Samira’s head. And just like that, the demoness vanished.

30 days, Poppy told Samira afterwards. In 30 days they needed to be in a very specific place. Poppy wouldn’t say more, not until Samira threatened to heave herself under a bus.

Poppy needed to be somewhere far north by the end of the current moon cycle, and it was going to result in the death of their host. Terrified beyond reason, Samira panicked. But what could she really do? Poppy had agreed to complete a task that they wouldn’t explain in return for passage from the Lower Realms to the Middle Realms and the acquiring of a host so that they could survive.

From the visions that Poppy had shown Samira over the years, the woman couldn’t blame them for not wanting to return, much less get sent somewhere worse.

Searching for a way out, Samira was determined. There must be something. A new host? Doubtful. And Samira couldn’t stomach the idea of dooming someone else to her same fate just to save herself. Besides that, she’d formed a bond with her monster, despite the uncomfortable nature of their meeting.

But there was only 30 days, Poppy argued, and Samira shrugged it. A month wasn’t so bad. Surely they could find someone with the sort of power they needed in that time?

Samira liked to call herself an optimist, Poppy liked to call her naïve.

Either way, travel was necessary, though not cheap. The first part of their trip north (all the while searching for some sort of strange power that could possibly help the both of them) was taken by bus, all the way up the eastern coast from Florida on.

Upon reaching the border of New Jersey, they followed the strings of rumours that led them to a town rumoured to have been touched by an odd magic. Some said it was a demon, some said there was a portal to another world.

Samira and Poppy couldn’t confirm either, but as they traveled, there was a certain note of..something in the air. Static maybe. Or magic?

Don’t get your hopes up, Poppy commented in Samira’s mind as they entered the town that seemed to be at the center of it all. Doesn’t look like anyone has lived here for awhile.

Samira shrugged, walking steadily towards where the air felt thickest.

“It’s worth a shot”, she responded aloud. “Obviously something happened here.”

The houses were nice enough, and Samira could see this was probably once a fairly nice suburban neighborhood. Nothing look broken exactly, but there were some things that didn’t seem to belong. A brand new house with a car in front that looked new but from fifty years ago. A streetlight with an odd grayish hue. Just little things, but odd nonetheless.

There was an empty lot with just a few wooden planks and concrete blocks, like someone had given up on building a house an hour into the process. Beside it was the house that caught Samira and Poppy’s attention however, giving off an energy that seemed to swirl, and Poppy swore that it was gleaming, though Samira brushed it off as a trick of the light.

The front door wasn’t locked. Even if it had been, Samira had been participating in the borderline illegal activity of urban exploration long enough to know how to pick a basic lock.

Stepping into the home was like stepping into a museum. Everything was dark and dusty and felt stuck in time, but the energy moved almost like a breeze as she walked through the house, seeking the source of the unusual sensation.

Careful, Poppy warned as Samira approached what she assumed was a cellar door. This feels similar to her energy.

Samira suppressed a shudder and pushed the door open, throwing caution to the wind as was her habit.

Down into the darkness, she pulled the flashlight from the side pocket of her backpack, always in easy reach. The first section of the basement was normal, but as she kept going, following the string of energy she swore she was starting to become visible, the beginnings of greenery began to creep over the walls.

“This must stretch under more than a few houses”, Samira muttered as the size of the basement mystified her. The hallway stopped abruptly, expanding into a circular area with doors heading off in several directions.

I don’t like this, Poppy asserted. This doesn’t feel right. We should go.

Samira flashed an irritated expression to the room at large. “Well I don’t like the idea of not going for any chance I’ve got at surviving to see my next birthday.”

Poppy sulked in Samira’s mind, the miniature tentacle that resided in her mouth full time, Poppy’s connection to the physical world, lashing anxiously against the inside of her cheek.

Turning in place, each door got a good examination. They appeared rather average, as much as a door in the oddly large basement of a house in a damned ghost town could be anyway.

“This one has a weird light. Are you seeing this too?” Samira asked aloud, gesturing to a door that shone shades of red and purple at the edges, just enough that it was only noticeable if one were looking for it.

The monster remained silent, so Samira pressed on. Stepping towards the door, she reached out for the doorknob. It was warm in her palm, like somebody had just been holding onto it.

The moment she opened it, the world went silent. There hadn’t been any real noise a second ago, but still Samira somehow felt as if there was not just an absence of sound. There was Silence. On the other side of the door was what probably served as a storeroom of some sort, if all the crates stacked one atop the other were any indication.

“..okay?” Underwhelmed and vaguely disheartened, Samira sighed and closed the no-longer-shimmering door. But when she turned around, the entire presence of the area had changed. Walls and floors and doors were still all where they were meant to be, but there was new life in the air, and the greenery wasn’t limp, but lush and thriving and seemed almost like it was reaching out for her.

“What the hell?”

#rulesxunbroken

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higuchimon · 3 years

Text

[fanfic] Invitations

Nasch’s attention flickered from the tiny girl seated on the throne to his left hand to the door, then over to the knight who stood to his right.

“Everything’s working fine,” Durbe told him, voice pitched low to avoid being heard by anyone who wasn’t the King. “All of the invitations were delivered properly.”

Nasch’s eyebrows narrowed ever so faintly. “Including the one to Vector?”

“Yes,” Durbe nodded. He’d been in charge of seeing to that particular invitation, while common heralds and messengers managed the others. The effects of their work showed here and now.

As did the effects of his – there wasn’t any sign of Vector anywhere, nor had any of the guards posted sent a warning of any sort. Perhaps the false celebrations they’d set up elsewhere would be enough to keep him distracted.

Tiny Princess Isis – a child Nasch and Merag found after a harsh battle in a distant land and brought back with them – sat on the finely carved throne, her hands resting on her lap, glancing nervously about. This party celebrated her official adoption by Nasch and Merag, bringing her into their family.

Neither of them were inclined to marriage or offspring. Merag had pledged herself to the God of the Ocean and while it wasn't forbidden for her to wed if she’d met someone, everyone knew that the odds of her meeting someone she’d choose were slim to non-existence. Nasch had other reasons for not wedding – reasons that Durbe knew very well indeed.

Almost all of the guests had arrived. Emperor Leonius arrived early, along with his favorite gladiator Alit. Rumors ran that Alit was far more to him than a mere gladiator – a common arena fighter wouldn’t be brought along on this sort of trip. Nasch didn’t question. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know the teasing allure of those who weren’t born to a royal title.

Someone new entered the chamber – two someones, in fact. Nasch glanced up to see who it was. Durbe knew them at once, of course.

“Mizael!” Durbe moved over, smiling. Nasch recognized the name as that of a famous dragon tamer who protected a land to the north and east. Someone he didn’t know stood next to Mizael, glancing around, a bit uncomfortable here. “Who is your friend?”

“This is Ryou,” Mizael said, nodding towards him. “We met a few months ago. I thought he would enjoy visiting here too.”

The stranger nodded politely. “It’s as lovely as I was told.”

After a few more words, Mizael and Ryou moved on, while Durbe returned to his position at Nasch’s right hand. He didn’t move away from it except to greet another famous guest, a general who’d won great acclaim on the battlefield and appeared here with his newly wed wife, an accomplished singer and musician. Not every guest deserved to be greeted by either the King or his Knight personally.

Nasch considered having a meal brought. It had been a very long day and his stomach rumbled. He started to gesture for one of the servants, when a noise came from the entryway, and Durbe stiffened at once.

“He wasn’t invited,” Durbe muttered. Nasch’s eyes narrowed as whoever it was moved closer.

“Who is it?” He demanded to know. Durbe glanced back at him.

“Do you remember the sorcerer Arclight?” the knight asked, his attention returning to the approaching figure. Nasch nodded; he’d heard many tales of the sorcerer and his three sons. “That’s Thomas, the middle son. I know no one invited him. But he’s here.”

Nasch’s lips thinned at that. It looked as if he wasn't going to be getting his dinner as soon as he hoped he would be. But he wasn’t going to allow anyone to ruin tonight’s celebration. He could see Merag also glaring at the approaching sorcerer – or whatever he was.

“Does he share his father's mage-talents?” Nasch asked. He’d heard a few things about how the youngest of the three was a skilled swordsman and the eldest took after his father in mage-craft, but not very much about what this middle child could do.

“He’s a fire-mage,” Durbe murmured. “Very talented with them, too.”

Fire-mages were rare and hadn’t appeared often in his realm, which was far more dedicated to the ways of water magic than anything else.

“What are you doing here, Thomas?” Merag asked, standing next to Iris and glowering with all the fury of the ocean at the newcomer.

The fire-mage laughed, tossing his mane of red and gold hair, sunlight glinting off of it. “Well, hello, there, Merag.” His eyes glittered hungrily. “I suppose I should have expected to see you here.”

“Considering this is my realm too, yes,” Merag snapped back. “No answer me. You weren’t invited.”

“What does that have to do with it?” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest. “You invited all of them.” He waved one hand to where Emperor Leonius and Alit, Mizael and Ryou, General Gilag and Sanagi, and everyone else. “So why can’t I show up if I want to?” He smirked. “Not enough golden plates to eat off of?”

“We don't’ eat off of gold,” Merag replied flatly. “You weren’t invited because no one wanted you here.”

Silence fell. Thomas’s lips thinned before he looked past her to where Nasch began to rise to his feet.

“Well, if it isn’t His Majesty.” Thomas smirked, waving one hand, tiny flames dancing on the tips of his fingers. Nasch tried to tell himself that the sight wasn’t attractive and failed rather miserably.

You have Durbe already. But there stood Thomas, blazing bright, with gleaming dark red eyes.

“What do you want here?” Nasch asked, fingers twitching. He knew his guards watched carefully; if Thomas made a move that he didn’t like, then he’d be a pincushion inside of a handful of seconds.

Thomas smiled. It was much like the smile of a shark. Normally Nasch liked those, but this gave off a different feeling.

“I’m here for the same reason as everyone else is.” Again he waved one flame-tipped hand. “This is a party. I even brought a gift for the new little princess there.”

Merag moved closer to Iris. It had been her idea to adopt the little girl, who now wrapped one hand around Merag’s, trembling. Nasch stood next to his sister, glaring sharply at him.

“What kind of gift are you talking about?”

“Why, just this.” Thomas twisted his hands and then held out a small gem to Iris. “This is a sunstone – a gemstone connected to the power of fire. It will always keep you warm, no matter how cold it is around you.”

“We don’t get cold weather here,” Merag said. “Why do you want to give her that?”

Nasch wondered the same thing. It never got that cold here. So what was he thinking about?

“She might not spend her entire life here,” Thomas pointed out, doing his level best to appear innocent, and not being very good at it. “But it also carries a powerful protective spell in general. You can throw it in the ocean if you don’t want it. But it’s hers – shouldn’t it be her decision if she takes it or not?”

Nasch glanced at Iris, whose attention focused on the sunstone. Thomas flicked his fingers again and now a silver chain hung from the gemstone. He offered it to her, and she reached for it slowly.

“Thank you, sir,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

Thomas smiled. It was probably the most genuine expression that Nasch had ever seen on his face. “It’s yours, then. Slowly he moved forward. Nasch found himself tempted to alert the guards, but he didn’t. Maybe the fire-mage actually meant well. He was just an ass – it wasn’t as if Nasch himself wasn’t the same way sometimes.

He slid the chain over Iris’s neck, then stepped back, glancing at Nasch and Durbe. “I didn’t just bring presents for her.”

Again his hands flashed with fire that coalesced into two polished gemstones, both of them a reddish-brown, a great deal like Thomas's own eyes, along with flashes deep inside of red, orange, and gold. It reminded Nasch thoroughly of fire itself.

“I brought these for you two,” Thomas said. “They’re fire agate.” A twitch to his lips. “Would you like to know what these gems mean?”

Nasch started to open his mouth, but Durbe beat him to it. “They increase physical energy and stamina. Or so the stories say.” He rested one hand on Nasch’s shoulder, and Durbe suspected there was something more to those gems than just stamina.

“That they do,” Thomas agreed. “But I also added something else for them. When you want to see me, all you have to do is touch them and call my name.”

“Why would we want to see you?” Nasch wanted to know. None of the tension had faded since he’d entered the chamber.

“Oh, who knows. You might want to talk. Or something else.” Thomas smirked. “Now, I came all this way. I want something to eat. You do have refreshments, don’t you?”

Nasch crossed his arms. “I could use something myself.” And he would definitely want to make sure that Thomas still didn’t cause any trouble.

He wasn’t sure of where those gemstones vanished off to. Perhaps Thomas just made them disappear again. But perhaps it didn’t matter, as for the moment, the fire-mage seemed content to accept a plate of food and settle down to eat. Durbe and Nasch picked up their own food, while Merag had a couple of plates brought to her and Iris.

Thomas nibbled on one of the finger foods and sipped from his wine cup. “This is a very nice party,” he said. “Let me guess, you didn’t invite Vector either?”

Nasch didn’t question how Thomas knew Vector. Everyone knew Vector, whether they wanted to or not.

“Of course we sent him an invitation,” Durbe said, a quick smile over his lips. “It just didn’t invite him to this party.”

“Clever.” Thomas leaned backwards. “I’m surprised you didn’t try the same trick with me.”

“We didn’t know you’d even want to come,” Nasch admitted. The Arclight family had been considered for the guest list, but Merag hadn’t wanted to. Nasch suspected that she knew more about the scar on Thomas’s face than either of them were ever going to talk about.

Thomas rested one hand over his heart. “I should feel wounded. Why wouldn’t I want to come? Now, my brothers – Christopher is busy with Prince Kaito. I think they’re sending a present of their own. Michael is busy somewhere else. I couldn’t say where – he’s trying to collect some ancient treasure or something. His lips pursed. “I think he teamed up with the son of an adventurer. They’re probably going to be busy for a while.

He shrugged and nibbled more of his food. “But I wasn't doing anything and if you’d sent me the invitation I probably wouldn’t have bothered.” Again that fiery glint in his eyes and Nasch tried to avoid thinking about it. He knew very well he was doing a very bad job of it. “But you didn’t – so I did.”

Durbe took a deep drink of his own. “So you just showed up because you weren’t invited.”

“Yes.” Thomas admitted without a care. He tilted his head up. “I probably won’t stay long. Too wet around here.” He caught Nasch’s eye and grinned. “But you can always invite me back with those gemstones. They’ll only work if you both use them at the same time. I wouldn’t want to break the two of you – up.”

The pause between words had to have been deliberate. He licked his lips slowly, eyes still fastened on Nasch and burning with an intensity fit to evaporate the ocean. Nasch didn’t look away, not even when he felt Durbe’s hand closing around his.

He’s offering – is he? Nasch wanted to think he knew but this was the first time Thomas had ever stood face to face with him. Why would he make an offer like that? He couldn’t possibly mean it.

Durbe’s thoughts ran in the same direction. “You hardly know us. Why would you claim that?”

“Claim what?” Thomas needed a lot of practice if he were going to sound innocent but he certainly gave it a good attempt. “I said you could invite me back. What do you do with guests to your kingdom?” He waved both of his fire-tipped hands again. “Really.” He also tried to sound offended. He was much better at that.

Nasch refused to commit himself and concentrated on getting his dinner finished. The other party-goers ate as well, mingling and chatting amongst themselves. Nasch could hear a few whispers that seemed more or less wondering exactly what Thomas was up to. No one else dared challenge him, and Nasch wanted to believe they thought that he could handle the matter if necessary.

Once Thomas finished, he rose to his feet. “It’s time for me to go. But as I said, invite me back any time. Perhaps I could get used to your realm if I see it often enough.” He glanced to where Merag glowered towards him. “And a good day to you as well, Highness.”

In between one breath and the next, a column of fire erupted from his feet, and when it faded away, Thomas wasn’t there anymore. Nasch glanced at Durbe, who looked more than a little relieved at his departure.

“Later,” Durbe murmured. “After the party.”

Nasch agreed; this was something far better discussed behind closed doors. The party didn’t last much longer after that; everyone finished their food, bid Nasch, Merag, and Iris good night, and retired to their quarters. The celebrations would go on for another three days, and Nasch expected everyone would be exhausted by the end.

He hadn’t been in his room long before the expected quiet tapping came, and Durbe followed a breath afterward. He moved over to embrace his lover for a few seconds.

“Do you think he was serious?” Durbe wanted to know as they settled down on the bed. Nasch brushed his fingers through Durbe’s wind-roughened hair. He’d probably gone on a flight with Mach before coming over.

“I doubt it. But we can test him to find out if he is. He claimed he’d be a guest. Let’s show him what the real hospitality of the realm is.” Nasch smiled his own shark-like smile. “He’s a fire-mage. He should know it’s not wise to play with water or air either.”

Durbe regarded him for a few moments before he laughed. “You’re right.” He slid one arm around Nasch and pressed a kiss against the king’s lips. “But we can talk about that later, too.”

Nasch definitely agreed. Planning how to turn the tables on Thomas could wait until after he and Durbe relaxed enough to truly enjoy it.

On the table next to the bed, two fire agates gleamed.

The End

Notes: I couldn’t resist sneaking my new OTP in there (Ryou x Mizael) and I’m beginning to like the idea of Durbe/Nasch/Thomas as well. The sparks would fly in every direction!

#fanfic #higuchimon writes #YGO ZEXAL #durbe #nasch #Thomas Arclight #durbe x nasch x thomas #zexal10th

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frumfrumfroo · 4 years

Text

I wrote a thing (Leia and Ben reunion angst)

Lamentations

Leia Organa hadn't really planned on getting old.

Not that she’d particularly expected to die young, either. The possibility (even probability) was certainly very real considering her tireless campaign to put herself in the thick of imminent danger, but logical reasoning about the likely outcome was never any match for her ambitions in life. Sheer bravado and the arrogance of youth had always been more than adequate to the task of pushing the reality of death from her mind. Even when fear or doubt got a grip, she had taken for granted that her rude good health and unshakeable self-assurance would continue in perpetuity as long as she managed to survive.

She hadn’t counted on a day dawning when she could no longer take matters into her own hands if need be. When tenacity might not be enough.

Now, hobbling down a corridor with the cane she hated but couldn’t yet do without no matter what her pride said, finding it slightly hard to catch her breath, she felt the years like anchors on every limb. She felt the weight of her choices pressing her shoulders down from their habitual imperious uprightness into an aged stoop.

She was on her way to meet her own son for the first time as a grown man and the harm she had done him, her failures as a mother, trailed her like a colossal shadow. She sensed the cold presence of the past looming over her, its encroaching guilt nipping at her heels, and it made her feel more ancient than the deepest rivers of the Force. As if her bones were formed from brittle primordial rock, apt to shatter with a touch.

If Han were here he’d cut her down to size for thinking she was the one keeping the whole universe together, for trying to bear every burden, fight every good fight. He’d depreciate himself and distract her from her navel gazing, bounce her back into reality and remind her not everything depended on her. But small things did. Smaller things than she ever remembered to notice. He’d kiss her on the forehead and forgive her for her self-importance. Han had kept her human when single-minded, hotheaded determination threatened to turn her into some kind of overbearing political droid.

But he wasn’t here and never would be again.

When the girl, Rey, repeated her story of what had happened on Starkiller Base, this time after her sojourn on Ahch-to, and in much more detail than before… It was the first time Leia wondered if she ought to blame herself a lot more personally than she ever had, if it were her fears and hurts, her emotional retaining wall which created an opportunity for Snoke. Perhaps it wasn’t so inevitable, the enemy wasn’t so crafty, and she had simply abdicated her post as guardian. Every far-flung, bleeding heart responsibility she’d voluntarily taken on in her life- some she’d deliberately snatched out of other, more cautious hands- and she’d shunned the one which had the strongest, most natural claim on her. It was the one job she was worried she couldn’t do.

He’d been so small when she’d pulled his childish, clutching fingers away from the folds of her dress and pressed him firmly towards his uncle. He’d been only just as tall as her chest, gangly and skinny in the aftermath of his first growth spurt. His eyes had looked huge in his slim face, enormous and soulful pools of hazel gold and brown. Pleading. She remembered putting her hands on his shoulders and smoothing back his hair as she looked at him and tried not to notice the sheen of unshed tears, the trembling of his lower lip. She’d decided this was best for him and so she had turned a deaf ear to any potential entreaties, unwilling to be swayed from wisdom by sentiment. It had to be done. For his own good, she had to pretend this didn’t hurt. She couldn’t waver.

All her life she hadn’t had time for her sorrows, all her life she could ill-afford the luxury of indulging her feelings. When was it time? When had she fought for long enough?

When she won. That was always the answer. She’d rest, she’d have a life, when she had made a universe worth living in. When she’d made things right. What could be more important?

“There’s always some new crusade, though, isn’t there, sweetheart?”

Han’s voice, sharp on the endearment which he’d always used equally often in chastisement as in affection, laden with barely concealed hurt. She heard his pain, but she chose not to listen to it.

She’d thought there’d be time to make it up to him. She thought they would wait for her, her family, that her life would wait for her.

Her step faltered when she found herself standing outside the room in the med suite where Ben was recuperating. He was mobile now, his wounds were closed and his ribs were healing. He’d needed a lot of rest, more for mental and spiritual exhaustion than physical damage. He’d become a conduit in the Force the like of which was only heard of in legend and there had been some question if he would survive. She’d kept abreast of his condition since she’d been told of his arrival three days ago; he’d been in her every thought and breath and prayer, but she couldn’t visit. There was too much to do, too many people to oversee and decisions to make. She had plenty of excuses to keep avoiding the reckoning.

Reportedly Rey hadn’t left his bedside once, never further from him than the fresher in the corner of the room. Poe said she was like a wild animal with a cub, hovering protectively over his prone body and questioning anyone who wanted to get near him. She’d maintained a death grip on his hand which only loosened slightly when she fell asleep in her chair at his side. Her own injuries were tended by a droid, under protest and without anaesthetic.

Leia leaned against the corridor wall and tried for what felt like the latest in several trillion attempts to come to terms with what Rey had told her about Luke. About Ben.

And she knew she deserved to blame herself. She knew. If he’d thought he could come home, he would have, and who had made him think he couldn’t? Han had fought for him and she’d have to tell him that no matter how painful it was to admit, she’d have to make sure he understood it wasn’t his father’s idea that Anakin’s blood flowed with latent corruption- not until she’d convinced him it did. Not until her secret festering fears clouded over the dawning love and hope they’d sacrificed so much to have.

The supreme necessity of forgiveness, of giving it and receiving it both, had become the hardest lesson she would ever learn. Her famously indomitable righteous anger had perished with a whimper, suffocated itself in weariness and despair; it was only fear that lived forever. It was fear which chained love, shackled hope, and bound the soul in darkness. And forgiveness drove out fear.

If Ben could forgive her, it seemed a mere pittance to forgive him.

When she rounded the corner the kids were silent but clearly communicating, the power of their connection like a subtle crackle in the Force which raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Rey was sitting on the edge of his cot, their heads very close together and her hands clasping both of his. Leia absorbed Rey’s mood first because it didn’t hurt nearly so much to look at Rey. The smile on her lips and the contentment in her eyes spoke of a peace the girl had never shown before. There was a confidence about her now, a knowingness. Leia had sensed she was searching for something from the moment she’d first seen her, noticed the void she was trying to fill. Leia had an eye for pressure points in people. She’d made use of Rey’s in hope that it would help her reach Luke. There might be an apology owed in that quarter too, but all thoughts of Rey vanished when Ben noticed her presence.

His head turned towards her and his face froze in an expression between horror and anguish, his pleading eyes just as she remembered them. He had a lot of his father in him, so much that it was striking, and a stab of agony lodged itself between her ribs that felt like her heart being pierced. But there was also so much of her in those eyes, in the slope of his jaw and the shape of his chin that she almost felt as if she were looking into a kaleidoscope reflection of her younger self. The certain, unshakable self she still half expected to see in the mirror before she turned on the vanity lights. He was a perfect marriage of her features and Han’s, with his broad cheekbones and regal profile, his full mouth and deep set eyes.

It was probably because he seemed in that moment somehow both a mirror and the spitting image of her husband that it was the shame which hit her first. She couldn’t help but spin around and cover her mouth to try to swallow a cry.

There was a tiny gasping noise from behind her and then Rey’s voice murmuring something. She couldn’t focus on the words, couldn’t understand what was being said, but she knew the sound of pain was from Ben. He thought she couldn’t bear to look at him.

And she couldn’t, but not for the reasons he must be imagining.

She gathered her dignity and forced herself to look again. He was clutching his blankets where they pooled at his waist, his long black hair falling in soft waves which framed the drawn pallor of his face very starkly. He looked ill and frightened. Vulnerable, a child again.

“Ben,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling boy. I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t know how long she’d been weeping into her hands when someone began to gently pry them away from her face, but her cheeks were wet and her eyes stung. She raised her gaze only to be confronted with a wide expanse of chest covered in the soft, oversized hospital smock which was standard issue for checked-in patients. She looked up, and up, and up to meet his eyes and couldn’t remember ever feeling so small in her life.

Leia was a short woman and used to fighting to get the world on her level, but this was her baby. She’d carried him in her belly, held him in her hands, she’d last seen him when she still had to crouch to speak to him eye to eye. His once little fingers now dwarfed her entire arm where he was holding her wrist and he towered over her to such an extent that the top of her head barely reached the middle of his sternum. Her baby was grown up and she hadn’t seen him in person since he was ten. Since their heights had been the inverse of this tableau. He’d become a man and she’d been there for none of it. She’d chosen not to be.

Ben was leaning down, studying her with trepidatious concern, and she couldn’t help but reach up and touch his face. She put his hair behind his ear and cradled his cheek in her palm, feeling the living warmth of his skin and the tickling sensation of a hot tear which rolled down from the corner of his eye and under her thumb.

“Look how beautiful you are,” she said, almost without meaning to.

He ducked towards her hand, hiding behind his hair.

She wrapped her arms around him and he folded into her, dropping nearly to his knees so he could hug her back, so tightly that it almost hurt. He was very strong, the harsh conditioning of a footsoldier obvious in the broad muscles of his back beneath her hands, and it hurt to think how badly he must have needed to be, how much he’d needed to rely on himself and his ability to fight. How he’d never been safe anywhere from the moment he was born.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. He sobbed hard into her shoulder, as if the words had broken a dam inside him. Deep, wracking sobs that shook his whole body and made her hold him as close as she could and whisper to him the way she had when he was a fussing infant, when the nightmares she never dared to tell her brother about had gripped him in their malingering claws. When the fear of darkness which ended up swallowing their little family encroached too close. “Shhsh, shhsh, it’s all right now.”

His voice cracked when he finally managed to tell her, “It’s me- I'm sorry; it’s me, it’s me, it’s me. How can you stand it, how can you stand it?”

Leia suddenly found herself meeting Rey’s penetrating gaze over his head. If there was judgement there, it was less harsh than it justly could have been.

“I should have protected you. I didn’t protect you.”

“Mother,” he croaked with enormous difficulty, “I killed him.”

Her stomach rolled over and her vision blurred with fresh tears, but she held him with her, gripping the fabric of his shirt with white-knuckle intensity. “He loved you. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

His face collapsed like wet linen and he slid to the floor at her feet, burying his head in her skirts. There was a mantra of apologies and self-recriminations amongst the desperate sobs and she lowered a shaking hand to stroke his hair.

“Ben, don’t. Please. Please don’t. Your father knew, he understood.”

Red eyes peeked up at her, his chin was trembling and those same fingers were clutching her skirts again and she wished she could go back to that day and tell herself her child needed her more than the galactic senate ever would. He needed honesty, his mother and his family, not a comfortable lie, a Jedi master or a carefully constrained destiny. She wished she’d seen him as clearly then as she did now, that she hadn’t been too afraid to look. She wished Han could be here to celebrate beating the odds one last time.

“If he could, he’d tell you this was the fairest trade he ever made.”

#basically a companion piece to my earlier fic #because fuck tros Leia didn't need to die and everyone killing her all the time is bullshit #this really isn't what I wanted? I don't know that the voice is right at all? idk angst because I'm mega depressed #is it cathartic at least?#fanfiction

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mmos-s · 4 years

Text

HIRAETH CH.4

Summary: girl gets told she might die and ignores it

CH.1 CH.2 CH.3 CH.4 CH.5

ao3

Many argue that the crunching of snow under the weight of someone’s foot, while they’re on a leisurely walk, is one of the most relaxing sounds in the world. Y/N argues that it’s mediocre at best. Your shoes get wet and your toes go numb. When you take a step your whole foot gets submerged into the snow and sometimes the shoe stays stuck there and you don’t notice so now your sock is completely wet. Yes, Y/N is implying that this has already happened three times. She swears she heard the Prince laugh the third time it happened.

Y/N bumping into Zuko’s shoulder for the 13th time had knocked her off her ‘why snow isn’t that great’ rant. This had been the thirteenth time they’d bumped shoulders and now she was convinced he was doing it just to annoy her. She tried to ignore it and keep walking.

Bump.

14.

“Ok, break.” She groaned.

Almost immediately both of them fell into the snow. Y/N laid on her back and sprawled out her hands, months ago she would have thought to make a snow angel. Her body and mind ached, and she couldn’t figure out which one hurt the worst.

The Prince supported his body up on his elbows and was looking at her rather intently. It was bothersome. Not to mention he’d been doing so ever since they’d been walking away from the cabin, that was hours ago, so that must have meant it was around noon now.

Neither of them had said a word since then. Only stolen looks and the fleeting feeling of brushing hands which were much worse than the shoulder bumps. Why were his hands so pleasantly warm? Even the slightest touch and she could feel it, the heat, the warmth.

At one point it had gotten so unbearable that she decided to cuff him with ice. Which he didn’t protest, just a barely noticeable scowl. Y/N hadn’t planned on doing so since he’d always complained but the contact was much worse than his nagging.

She was jealous of the warmth he had though. Not only jealous but extremely embarrassed.

If anyone had cried in front of someone that you’re supposed to seem strong and resilient to, of course there would be some drawbacks in confidence. So she’d told herself to not say a word. Because, well speaking on it would just make things awkward, so not speaking and just trying to forget it was the best option. So that was exactly what she did. When it had been just a couple minutes of them sitting in front of the cave(part of her hoped Ro would magically appear if they had just waited)Y/N had suddenly stood up, only waving her hand for him to follow. And that was the most communication they had for hours.

But he kept staring.

Every time she’d catch him he would avert his gaze almost always a second too late. He wanted to say something, but then never did. Y/N just pretended that she hadn’t noticed and kept looking up towards the sky like it was the most interesting thing in the world, which in a sense it was. It was cloudy, she wondered which type it was.

He was still staring.

Y/N shifted her head and looked his way.

“What is it?” Her voice was aggressive. It had come out to be so but Y/N was more mildly annoyed than anything else.

Zuko looked away far too slowly, bringing his gaze up to some random spot in the snow.

“Uh, nothing.” He blew hair out of his face with his mouth.

“It’s nothing,” He repeated.

Liar. It was obviously something. People don’t just stare at others for the fun of it, that would be boring.

“Just spit it out.” Please don’t be about her crying. Please don’t be about her crying. Please don’t--

“No uh . . . your bandages have been falling off for a while now, it’s bothering me.” He affirmed.

It was an excuse. He was almost too obvious. Sure, Y/N’s bandages were currently unraveling themselves on her arm but that was now. What about the other times, she was 99.9% sure that her bandages were fine before now. She was never very good at tying them though, maybe she was overreacting a little bit, a little too on edge. Y/N never really cared about other people judging her but something about his gaze sometimes made her feel small and uncertain of herself and her actions. She hated it.

She didn’t feel like pushing him any further, he didn’t look like he was going to let up. How annoying.

Y/N sat up and brushed the snow off her hair before looking at her patched-up arm. The Prince was right, it looked even messier than before. She tore it off and then immediately regretted it. It stung, and hard. The air felt extremely cold against the wound, she didn’t remember it being all open like that, the least she’d expected was a bruise. Dried blood soaked the bandages and Y/N didn’t remember that either. Spirits, did she have dementia or something? The most that she could recall was a few scratches with barely any blood. Had she missed it somehow?

“That looks bad,” Zuko stupidly pointed out.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Zuko frowned at her sarcasm, it was really too easy egging him on like that. She knew he barely tolerated her and used it against him, it was fun almost.

Y/N got rid of the used bandages and took out new ones out of one of her bags. She unraveled it and got to work. To be quite honest she was never really good at tending to wounds, she’d been taught the basics but she was always too impatient to listen in class, her friends would always make fun of her. That was part of the only reason she wasn’t completely littered in scars, for someone who practiced serums and medicines this was sort of pathetic. She just plain wasn’t all that good at it. It was the same with using water to heal as well.

After the fourth time of trying to tie the gauze to her arm, Y/N threw it to the ground in a fit of frustration. It wasn’t only because of the fact she absolutely sucked at this, but because he was staring. Again.

“What?” She grumbled.

“No wonder mine are so messy,” He commented.

Y/N nearly gasped, was he serious right now?

“Let me do them for you?” He asked.

Was he serious right now?

Y/N hesitated but then looked over to her injured arm and the ruined bandages. Whatever it’s not like this little amount of interaction would change anything. Y/N hated when people touched her now, but this wasn’t really touching was it? This doesn’t count.

“Fine.” Y/N decided.

He edged over next to her and then held out his cuffed hands. When she did nothing he looked at her in disbelief.

“You can’t expect me to do this with my hands tied.”

Y/N shrugged and almost let a smirk slip. “I don’t know, it’d be funny to see you try.”

He rolled his eyes and motioned his hands towards her again, this time she actually took them off.

He grabbed the gauze and went to put it onto her arm. She flinched as soon as he’d touched her, he was so warm. Had he not even noticed?

“Sorry,” He said. There was no reason for it but he did. Y/N didn’t reply, she merely nodded and let him wrap it around her arm. He was gentle. She couldn’t remember the last time someone else did this for her.

“You’re really bad at this,” He pointed out.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

It was a genuine question. She had reason to believe that he was talking about her poor bandaging skills but the way he’d said it sounded like he meant something else as well.

“. . .The bandages obviously.”

“Right.”

Then there was a lot of silence, not the awkward kind, but not comfortable either. It was an ok middle. The silence broke every time he had to apologize after tightening the wrapping, but it wasn’t strong. The silence didn’t break like a rock being thrown at glass but more like if you cut through fabric with sharpened scissors. It was nice, the woods were always deathly quiet.

“Okay done.” He tied the last knot and then let his arms fall to his side. Y/N hated herself for being disappointed that the moment was over. It felt like forever and she feared she was the only one that thought so. She tried to convince herself that he had just weirdly taken forever to tie them, but then that didn’t work either because that meant her thoughts steered towards the care and patience someone was willing to give to her.

It was done well, it didn’t look like it was going to fall off in an instant.

“Thanks.” She didn’t look at him. And she didn’t say ‘thank you’ because to her that sounded like she cared too much. Y/N was very grateful though.

“What about you?” She asked.

“What about me?” He cocked his head and sent a confused expression her way.

Was she dumb? What about him? Why did she say that? It’s not like she owed him a favor or anything, just because he so happened to know how to wrap bandages well didn’t mean something. None of this changed things, nothing ever would. Wow, she was dumb. What was she thinking?

“Nothing. It’s nothing just--nevermind,” She scrambled, both with her words and her things.

Y/N quickly got up and stepped away from him. She hastily picked up her bags and brushed herself off.

“Let’s go,” She said.

Zuko frowned. “It’s been barely ten minutes.”

“There's a small town close to here and we have to get through it before dark, we’ll rest later.” She kept looking at her bandaged arm almost in marvel, how was this done so well? “I have to meet someone. . .” She trailed off at the end. She hadn't meant to say it aloud.

“General Lee?” Zuko got up and they began walking.

“No, just someone that owes me a favor.”

“Did you kidnap them too?”

Y/N punched his shoulder and he yelped in protest.

“No. We just happen to know each other.” She corrected.

“So, a friend.”

“No. . . just someone who owes me.”

Zuko looked at her with a scowl on his face. “Are you that against friends?”

Y/N stopped walking and looked down at her feet. No person would be against friends, it’s physically impossible to not make even the smallest connection with someone, and that includes hatred. Sure that wasn’t friendship, but you still know them, well enough to hate them at least.

Y/N was never against before. But the less connection you make with someone the less it hurts when it’s over.

“It’s . . . complicated,” Y/N doesn’t know why she hesitated. Things had always been clear to her, especially after everything that happened. She’d promised herself something, and that something meant a lot to her. Going against what she’d been living by for months(nearly a year now)would just be pathetic. For once she could just plainly say ‘yes’.

Zuko raised an eyebrow and then looked over to his left.

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes.” Y/N finally answered, a little pissed off and embarrassed they were talking about this, she felt like she was being taunted.

“Not like you’re the type to be making friends left and right. I mean you tried to set me on fire when I realized who you were the first time we met.”

“Those were different circumstances!” He defended. “And I do have friends, for your information. I'm not as lonely as you are.” He shot back.

“Did you try and kill them too? Or were those. . . oh wait how did you put it?” Y/N feigned deep thought and put her finger on her chin. “Oh! Different circumstances.��

“That’s irrelevant.”

“Tell me, does it work? Maybe I should be changing my tactic.” She said jokingly.

“Oh noooo, honestly I think I’m really warming up to you. Might just be the Stockholm syndrome finally setting in, but it could also be your outstanding personality.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at that one. He was funnier than she’d thought, he didn’t look like he had much of a sense of humor when they’d first met. The Prince had actually said nothing during their first encounter, nothing at all. It was astounding, how he could stay silent for so long, Y/N just couldn’t help but be as talkative as possible. She’d obviously fallen silent when she’d realized who he actually was.

When there was no more trace of her laugh in the air, the Prince and Y/N said nothing more. Her shoulder bumped into his again but she wasn’t as bothered about it this time. And when it happened again, fighting the urge to hold back a smile had never been so hard. She should have realized then and there that she would never succeed.

The fact that the person Y/N was looking for was hiding in plain sight made things 10x more difficult for her. The town’s center had a handful of Fire Nation soldiers roaming around most likely collecting their ‘protection fees’ from local businesses. The crowd of civilians just trying to get through their day had this underlying anxiety and unsureness scratching at its skin and it just never went away. Darting eyes and hesitant footsteps showcased the civilians’ alertness and fear.

She’d unconsciously tightened her hand around Zuko’s and tugged him a little harder than needed. Of course she was on edge, just hours ago her house had been burnt to the ground by some of the same people. When the both of them had to stop because of a huge crowd Y/N finally got to catch her breath, at least they were blending into the crowd. Just to make sure she looked unidentifiable, Y/N pulled her hood further down her eyes.

Zuko got pushed into her side by one of the people in the crowd. “This is dangerous, there are soldiers everywhere.”

Y/N couldn’t answer him because someone had roughly tugged her arm and yanked it.

“Hey!” She yelled out.

“Shut up and come with me.” The voice said.

It was a soldier. Yet as soon as Y/N had heard the person’s voice she had nothing to be scared of. It was them.

She’d shot the Prince a look, warning him not to cause a scene, his expression read confused but he stayed quiet.

They’d caught the eyes of many people in the crowd, some fearsome and some just plain pitiful. This obviously wasn’t something that hadn’t happened before, yet still no one did anything. Of course, Y/N didn’t blame them, fear is something that’s hard to shake off. It’s in you and discreet. When it doesn’t want to be, it's in your eyes and the way your lip twitches. It’s the way your whole body freezes and you can’t move or say anything, and your heart pleads and yells, ‘I’M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!’. And yet your body stays still and you avert your eyes, you just wait until the moment is over.

That was exactly what everyone in the town did.

Before she knew it the three of them were in some alley. The soldier finally let go and took off their helmet. Shaggy hair covered their eyes and stuck to their forehead. Y/N recoiled in extreme disgust and they were clearly not happy about it.

“Spirits Tiho! You look disgusting,” She said.

“Oh whatever,” They ruffled their hair and tried wiping away the sweat with the back of their hand mumbling something about helmet hair.

“Who is this?” They demanded.

“A friend.” She answered quickly.

“You said you’d be alone.”

“I never said that.” Y/N lied.

“Yes, you did.”

Y/N huffed they were always so paranoid and although she knew they had every reason to be, it could get a bit tiring.

Tiho was undercover. Well, not exactly, since they were born in the Fire Nation and had decided to become a footsoldier themselves. It was when the both of them had met.

Tiho was dying and all the other soldiers had left them because of General Lee’s orders. She’d saved them. That was the favor they owed to each other. It also helped that Tiho had felt betrayed, they’d realized the deep flaws in their nation and was tired of everyone ignoring it. They aided each other and that was all, they both understood there was no friendship in this and that was what Y/N liked about them. At least they understood.

“Tiho, please. The sooner you tell me what’s been going on, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

Tiho let out a long sigh and looked at a non-existent watch with fake concern, Y/N now realized why they sort of got along.

“Fine.” Y/N grinned but her happiness was cut off short when they continued. “But! Tell me who this is, I know you don’t do friends idiot. Are you setting me up or something?” They asked skeptically.

Zuko looked over at Y/N expectantly and she did just the same.

“I’m um . . .”

“He’s um . . .”

They both spoke at the same time and Tiho raised her chin in suspicion. Y/N decided that telling the semi truth would be the best, she just wouldn’t mention his name. She was sure if she did Tiho would kill him on the spot.

“He’s just someone I need to deliver to General Lee.” She said, scratching at the inside of her palm.

“Really? You haven’t done that in a while.”

Y/N only nodded, afraid that if she said anything else she’d slip up. She was never a very good liar and to her dismay Tiho was very good at knowing when someone was lying, they remembered nearly everything. Y/N didn’t know she had a tell for lying until they happened to point it out once.

“Where are his cuffs then?” Tiho pointed to Zuko’s cuffless hands. Zuko looked like he’d been caught stealing and hid his hands behind his back, yeah sure, that totally didn’t make things more suspicious.

“It would just attract attention and that’s the last thing I want. I’m sure you can relate,” She quickly said.

They narrowed their eyes and stared the both of them down.

“Alright fine,” Y/N almost let out a breath of relief. “What do you want to know?”

“Why were Lee’s soldiers after me last night? Tiho, they were at my house,” She said. She let a smidge of anger peak through on accident, she didn’t want to seem so mad, it wasn’t exactly their fault.

“General Lee’s gotten real suspicious of you all of a sudden, think he’s realized how dangerous it is just having you run around buck wild out there.” They informed her.

“But we made a deal, it’s not like I’m planning on killing him or something!” She argued. “Not yet at least.”

“You of all people should know that an asshole like him doesn’t care about sticking to his word. Don’t waste your time and get out of here.”

Y/N’s face fell. She brought her hand and rubbed her temple, this was bad this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad. Maybe if she got the Prince to him faster then the deal would still be on, this couldn’t be happening; she needed to find out where they were and he was the only one who knew.

“I can’t--” Y/N started.

“You can.” Tiho reached over and tapped her shoulder twice, their way of affection. Y/N stopped herself from recoiling, it was just their hand that’s all.

“You’ll get yourself captured or even killed.”

Y/N only stayed silent at that. What was she meant to do?

“Tiho!” Someone yelled. Their heads snapped towards them and Tiho quickly put their helmet back on.

“Don’t make the wrong decision.”

And with that they left, Tiho ran back to a random group that must’ve been their assigned squadron. Another soldier slapped their back rather roughly while letting out a big laugh. Y/N could see how much they hated it by the way their hands clenched up into fists for barely even a second. She marveled at how well Tiho could hide their emotions. Something Y/N proved again and again she wasn’t all that great at.

She felt like exploding. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs until finally fizzling out and collapsing onto the floor, and then lay there and never be able to scream again, her vocal cords forever damaged. Why couldn’t everything just go to plan? Why had he decided to backstab her now, when she was this close. Y/N had never truely trusted him, she would have been dumb to, but this just pissed her off. It pissed her off, it really did, because of course some random small pathetic man has this much of a hole on her. They had made a deal.

‘Deal: an agreement entered into by two or more parties for their mutual benefit, especially in a business or political context.’ That was the definition.

It wasn’t; ‘Deal: to go back on your word and try and get you killed.’

Y/N hated this. She hated the general. She hated the Fire Nation for doing what they were doing, and took everything in her to not punch Zuko right in the face because the red he brandished on his clothes was only egging her on. What an ugly color.

How could any sane person do this to so many people.

That was the worst thing about all this, Y/N knew she wasn’t the only one that got everything strpped away from her in the flash of an eye. She knew it. That never stopped her from being selfish though, she promised herself she would do whatever it took and she did exactly that. So why wasn’t she rewarded? Maybe it was even more selfish of her to expect such a thing.

‘Don’t make the wrong decision.’ Was she meant to just give up? Give up everyone she knew and grew to love with all of her heart. Give that up and just try and keep living a good and honest life while there is a war that’s been dragging on for years on end. Just the thought of it made her feel like throwing up. How could she keep living with all this pain and suffering and regret and hopelessness and self loathing.

She was meant to get by with a voice in her head. A voice that screamed and pleaded for attention, ‘THEY MIGHT BE OUT THERE WAITING FOR YOU! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!’.

The Prince had made the worst decision of his life and brought her out of her thoughts by kicking the side of her leg.

“What?” She snapped.

He threw her an alarming look, like he was trying to warn her of something, “There’s someone that’s been staring at us for a while now.” His voice was weirdly off sounding.

His eyes flickered behind her. Y/N tried looking as discreetly as possible.

Red. All she could see was red.

A tall woman with jet black hair shaved all the way down to a buzz cut. Her eyes weren’t gold like Zuko’s and many other people from the Fire Nation. They were a deep, deep red, so red that Y/N felt like her eyes were on fire. Like her guts were being ripped out. Red jewelry, red clothes, red shoes. Y/N had never hated the color more in her entire life.

The woman was just standing in the middle of the huge crowd peering, no, burning into the alleyway that the two were in. Her face was emotionless and never looked like it was going to move, not even a twitch in the eye. And for the few seconds they had both made eye contact Y/N had felt nothing but fear.

Fear that she’d felt months ago. Not the kind she was familiar with. It was different.

Worse.

When Y/N had finally torn her eyes away from her she realized she could hold her breath for longer than she thought. Y/N also realized that her body liked to think on it’s own. She’d grabbed the Prince’s arm harshly as they both ran to the opposite opening of the alleyway.

She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when her skin had finally stopped burning, when her stomach had stopped feeling like someone had been chewing at her inside out, or when she could no longer feel a pair of scorching eyes on her, but it took too long. And maybe it was because Y/N was paranoid, but every step she took felt like a step further away from death.

Falling onto damp dirt had never felt so amazing. The snow surrounding her was half melted and all sludgy, forming small muddy puddles around her. Y/N didn’t mind the fact that she was getting her clothes all dirty and wet, she just wanted to relish in the semi warmth of the floor. She really wished the sun was out, not that it would completely get rid of the cold air that surrounded them.

Another blaze of fire ripped through the air and this time it was right next to her. Y/N winced and shot the Prince an alarmed look.

He only shrugged in response and then punched the air toward the ground again, when all the ice melted into the ground he seemed satisfied and layed down on his back. Y/N debated bending cuffs on him again but then decided against it. It wasn’t as cold here compared to back home, he’d have enough power to melt them.

Y/N sighed and held herself up with her elbows, she threw her head back and looked at the stars knowing that’s what she’d be staring at until the sun came up.

She muttered a ‘shit’ under her breath when she’d already felt like her eyes were closing.

“Will you quit that?” Zuko grumbles.

Y/N shoots him a glare. She’d honestly forgotten he was next to her. He somehow turned into the least of her problems in the matter of hours. Her thoughts were so clear before, now it all felt like meaningless white noise. Nothing in her body felt like it was working right.

“What?” Y/N drawls. She’s aware she probably sounds like a whiny baby at the moment but the command had bothered her for some reason. Why did he have to look so under control all the time?

“You’ve been sighing and groaning ever since we got here. You complaining 24/7 doesn’t mix well with my exhaustion.”

Y/N feigned concern and brought her hand up to her head like they would in plays. She dramatically gasped just to add fuel to the fire. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation but she really felt like making fun of him.

“My deepest apologies, Prince. I’ll try to keep the noise to a minimum from now on.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and gruffed. Well that obviously hit some kind of nerve, Y/N found herself proud. When he opened his mouth she quirked an eyebrow, sort of daring him to come up with something to say. When he closed it and looked away she knew she had won.

Then there's silence for a little while. It’s the type where you know someone wants to say something but can’t really find the right timing or the right phrasing for it. An accidental change of tone and it might sound rude or brash, or maybe just plain stupid. But it’s not the awkward ‘i want to say something so badly’ kind of silence because you always expect the other person to not feel the weird energy in the air and feel the ghost of unspoken words silently leave your lips when you think they’re not paying attention at all.

And that’s the only difference.

Y/N shifted her weight and kept looking up. One of her friends once said that the stars gave you courage.

“I’m still going to go through with this, you know.”

Y/N didn’t know why she felt the need to say it to his face(well mostly up to the dark sky). Maybe it was because it had only recently dawned on her that he was actually there when she was talking with Tiho. When Tiho had told her that the situation was lose-lose. That Y/N could die.

Zuko scoffed like she’d just said the dumbest thing in the world. And she guessed that he wasn’t so wrong to think that.

“You must have a death wish.” When Y/N peeks over at him she notices his eyes were closed.

“I guess so.” Stars are so small from down here.

Silence again.

“Why?” He asked. She still can’t place why he had.

Y/N nearly recoiled at the question. Such a simple one.

“Because I’d rather die than not try at all.”

When she’d said it she was looking straight up at the stars. Y/N didn’t feel an ounce of courage.

____________________________

Taglist: @lammello @royahllty @eridanuswave @idkdude776 @sokkas--boomerang

#sokka #zuko #xreader #self insert #zukoxreader #zuko x reader #atla fanfic #avatar: tla #avatar the last airbender #suki #toph #katara #aang #this one was hard #hope its ok

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sithsecrets · 4 years

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A Matter of Expediency - Part IX

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

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Part 9

4.7k words

Mentions: swearing

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The next several weeks of your life are a virtual continuum of meetings and planning sessions. You work both with the Board of Charitable Affairs and alone, studying poverty statistics, learning about various cultures, and deciding which locations and issues take precedence over other points of interest. It’s a lot of hard work, but you find satisfaction in your duties nonetheless. Every positive report and letter of gratitude that falls into your hands staves off feelings of burnout and discouragement, and after a month and a half, you feel like you’ve made a real difference in the lives of some of your underprivileged subjects. Even so, there’s still so much to be done, but you’re more than ready to rise to the occasion.

Other members of the Board are wowed by your dedication, and even some the Chairwoman’s cronies admit that your proposals have merit. Evan herself is still a thorn in your side, but mostly harmless. Her jabs are sly, and you know that she gossips about you behind your back. She’s furious that you’re doing so well, and it shows in every malicious remark. The Chairwoman could do nothing to spoil the work you love so much, and in any case, the friendships you’ve forged with your peers are fine buffers for her nastiness.

Overall, you feel more comfortable on the ship now. You know your way around for the most part, the strangers are less strange… The Supremacy feels like home, almost. You still miss sunshine and breathing real air, but you’re acclimating to this environment, to this life. People regard you with respect, and you think that most of them even like you— what more could you want?

Even your relationship with your husband has become a bit… smoother. The two of you have fallen into a routine together, and though you sometimes wish you saw Kylo more during the day, you’re still content to spend your evenings with him, to share his bed. He remains pleased with your charitable work, and you even caught him singing your praises to a group of officers once. Every compliment from Kylo, be it about your work, your appearance, or something else, never fails to make your pulse quicken, and you try to show him just as much kindness. Kylo isn’t free with his physical affection outside of the bedroom, but he does hold you each night as the two of you fall asleep, regardless of if you’ve had sex first or not. Though you yearn for a bit more affection in your marriage, this gesture does give you a bit of hope. You know that you’ve come to care deeply for Kylo, and you think (hope, pray) that he cares for you as well.

You find yourself mulling over the nature of you and your husband’s relationship frequently, plagued with worries about your connection. Truthfully, you wish you could see into the future so you could confirm for yourself whether or not you and Kylo will ever fall in love, but you have no such abilities. So, you’re left to wonder in silence, alone with your thoughts. You ponder the notion of simply being friends with the man you’re married to, of being cordial with the father of your children. The idea leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you finally gather up the courage to voice your concerns to someone you think may be able to understand.

“Miriam,” you say one evening, eyes your attendant in the mirror as she brushes your hair. She is focused on her work, never looking up at you even as she speaks.

“Yes, Empress?”

“Have you ever worked for someone like me before?” you ask, immediately realizing how the question could be cause for confusion. “I mean, have you ever worked for someone who’s marriage was arranged?”

“Oh yes,” Miriam says at once, adjusting her stance as she works out a knot. “Many of the women I’ve served had their marriages arranged. Some of them never even laid eyes on their husbands before their wedding day.”

The mere notion of such circumstances makes you feel marginally luck, seeing that you got to meet Kylo more than once after your engagement. Not knowing what your husband looked like before you married him? Stars above…

You sit up a bit on your stool, hands fidgeting. “Did… Did it usually turn out okay?”

“Define ‘okay’,” Miriam says slowly, throwing you a curious look in the mirror now.

“Well… Did the couples usually end up caring for one another? As lovers do, I mean, and not just as partners or… or teammates.”

Miriam sets your brush down on the vanity in front of you, running her fingers through your hair absently as she decides what to do with it. “I’ve only seen one such marriage play out terribly, and I think it had more to do with their age difference and the husband’s proclivities than anything else. In every other case, at least in my experience, the couples ended up caring deeply for one another.” Miriam expression shifts to one of concern, and she sets her hands on your shoulders rather gently. “Why do you ask, my lady?”

You could dismiss Miriam, you know. You could tell her that you’re done talking, you could shut her down completely and demand that she dress you without saying anything more. But Miriam doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, and your heart is too raw for cruelty at the moment.

Miriam must take your hesitation to speak as an indicator of trouble, because she narrows her brow and asks, “Has everything been alright with the Supreme Leader, Empress?”

It’s a bold question, almost too bold, but you’re happy to know that Miriam feels safe enough with you to speak in such a fashion.

“No, no,” you say quickly, rushing to assure your attendant that you’re okay. Because you are, in the grand scheme of things— you’ve just been locked inside your head too much lately. “Kylo’s been wonderful. I just— I just hope that I have his heart, or that I’ll come to have it, eventually.”

You hate yourself for crying, swiping away the tear that rolls down your cheek as if it’s burning your skin. Miriam watches you do this, concern and sympathy written plainly on her face. She finally takes her hands off your shoulders, threading her fingers through your hair now. An outsider would think that she was simply sectioning off your hair for styling, but her touch is far too gentle against your scalp to be anything less than comforting.

“Does the Supreme Leader have your heart, Empress?” Miriam asks quietly.

You force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat, biting back more tears. As a result, your voice is nothing more than a strained whisper. “I think so.” Miriam’s eyes soften considerably, and she quits fussing with your hair. You bark out a laugh, though it’s a humorless one. “Isn’t that pathetic? “I’m in emotional turmoil because I have a crush on my husband.”

Your attendant replies, failing to acknowledge your self-deprecating remark. “Though I don’t profess to know his feelings, I do believe that the Supreme Leader cares for you,” Miriam states, making an actual effort to style your hair now. “He doesn’t parade you around like a trophy or a decoration, but he does like having you by his side when the two of you make appearances. And you’ve told me yourself that he’s proud of the work you’ve done for all of the Order’s charitable causes. Men who don’t care for their wives definitely don’t care about what their wives do, no matter how great their achievements.”

Miriam pauses to meet your eyes in the mirror, smiling warmly. You return to the gesture, already feeling a bit silly about your little crisis. Everything that Miriam’s said isn’t news to you— perhaps you just needed to hear it from someone who’s not involved the way you are.

“And,” your attendant adds, “if I may be so bold… his affection for you is written plainly on your skin.”

Your entire body floods with heat at this, and your face turns so red so fast that it’s almost unnatural. You know good and well what Miriam’s referring to, the love bites on your shoulder, the bitemark on your chest. Kylo called them “reminders” the first time he ever put such a thing on your body— they’re supposed to help you remember how beautiful he thinks you are. And though you like to think that the sentiment is something special, you downplay it now in front of Miriam now.

“He could do that to anyone,” you say, flustered. Miriam raises her eyebrows a little, casual.

“He could,” she concedes, “but he doesn’t. He marks you where only the two of you can see. It’s not a possessive action, not meant for the benefit of others.”

You quite like the sound of that, but your embarrassment prevents you from saying so. Miriam tucks one last pin into your hair, and then her hands are gripping your shoulders again.

“The Supreme Leader thinks much of you,” she declares, “both as a diplomat and as his wife.”

You nod at this, encouraged by the serious look in your attendant’s eyes. Miriam gives you the smallest of shakes, a gesture meant to punctuate her conviction. “Love will come,” she assures you, “I promise.”

Part of you wants to argue, wants to say “what if,” but you push every doubting remark back down your throat. Miriam is no great oracle, she can’t possibly know how everything’s going to play out, but you trust her immensely. She’s lived far more life than you have, and if she says that something’s going to happen, then it likely will. And in any case, Kylo is sweet to you, he does hold you and kiss you and call you his when the door is closed and the lights are low. So for now, you choose to be content with what you have.

“Love will come.”

---

The rest of your day is rife with meetings and political engagements, more so than usual. You receive countless ambassadors and visiting parties in the throne room, talking with each and every single person at length about their concerns and worries. Winter is fast approaching on some of the Order’s most underprivileged possessions, and many leaders from those planets and territories fear for their poor and sick. You sympathize with them immensely, but still, it’s been daunting to take each proposal and plan in turn. But thankfully that’s all done for now; the throne room sits empty, the corridor outside of it vacant and quiet.

The ship’s evening cycle is upon you, and you’re more than ready to retire to your chambers. A hot meal and a warm bath would do you good, you think, along with a change of clothes. Your shoes have been pinching your feet for hours, and you’re just sick of being covered in beading and embroidery and delicate little things that you have to treat gently. Draping yourself in beautiful clothes is always such fun, but all the fussiness of it does get old after a while.

Before you can make it back to your sanctuary, however, two stormtroopers come out of nowhere and inform you that your husband wants to speak with you at once. With a raging headache and aching feet, you want nothing more than to send the both of them away, to send Kylo a com letting him know that he can come to your quarters if he wishes to tell you something, but you do none of this. If Kylo’s asking for you directly, it must be urgent, so you let the two troopers lead you through the ship, praying all the while that nothing too awful has happened.

It’s cold in the hanger bay when you and the stormtroopers arrive, icy air biting at your skin through the fabric of your sleeves and bodice. Kylo awaits you near a small craft, flanked by the other Knights of Ren. Though they bow deeply and regard you with the proper respect you deserve, you can’t tell what any of them think of you, these strange, powerful men and women who serve Kylo so loyally. Honestly, they unsettle you quite a bit, all of them faceless and expressionless behind masks and helmets, constantly armed and armor-clad. You suppose other people are afraid of Kylo for the same reasons when they first meet him, but you’re of the opinion that the other Knights are just simply less approachable, less human than he is. Perhaps if you could just see their faces…

Turning away from the stares of the Knights, you give your husband a tired smile. “What’s the matter?” you ask, bracing yourself against the chill of the hanger as goosebumps pop up all along your arms.

“I just wanted to inform you that the Knights and I will be leaving for a few days,” Kylo declares, voice robotic through the vocoder in his helmet.

A wave of sadness washes over you, heavy and completely unexpected. You try to cover it quickly though, keenly aware of your audience.

“Now?” you ask, voice rather small.

Kylo nods curtly. “Yes.”

Suddenly, you hate his mask, you hate the fact that your husband’s face is covered. You wish you could see his expression, the look in his eyes, anything that would let you know what Kylo’s thinking.

“How long will you be gone?” you ask, shivering now. It really is cold in this damn hangar, and you aren’t draped in a cloak like everybody else.

“Two to four days,” Kylo answers. The stab in your chest is inexplicable, but it pains you nonetheless.

“I see,” you say, just because you feel like you ought to speak. You cast a look towards the Knights, eyeing their weapons and protective garments, and it suddenly dawns on you that they may be armed for battle. “Where exactly are you all going?”

Kylo is in no mood to be specific, it seems, simply telling that they’ll be doing some scouting in the Minor Possessions. This feels like a lie, but you don’t call him out, unwilling to accept the fact that Kylo could be injured or killed in the very near future. You wish desperately that the two of you were alone, that you could maybe have a moment with him before he leaves. He’ll never let you show him affection, not out in the open like this in front of subordinates, so you just nod, trying to paint on a smile to the best of your ability.

“Well, I hope you all return safely.” You take a small step forward, addressing your husband directly now. “Please be safe.”

Kylo doesn’t say anything for a moment, and though you still can’t see his face, you do think his voice is a bit gentler as he goes to speak. “We’ll be back very soon,” he assures you, and your heart jumps when he reaches out to stroke your arm for the briefest moment.

You smile one more time, watching sadly as your Kylo and his Knights file onto their vessel. They blast off into space without another word, leaving you to watch as their ship becomes but a speck on the inky expanse of stars before you.

It’s an upsetting turn of events, Kylo leaving, and you feel almost childish for not wanting him to go. If he and the Knights decided to leave so promptly, whatever they’re off to do must be important. And who are you to hinder your husband’s work? He never begs you to take a day off from your obligations, nor do you think he would stop you from doing whatever you felt was necessary. But… It’s just that you’ve had a long, grueling day, and you were so looking forward to crawling into Kylo arms at the end of the night.

Thankfully, Miriam’s already waiting for you when you arrive back to your rooms. You drag your feet all the way into the ‘fresher, scrubbing at your eyes with makeup remover as your attendant works to undress you and let down your hair. After you’re changed into more comfortable clothes, you dismiss Miriam for the evening, unable and unwilling to make small talk any longer.

Eating alone is just as depressing as you thought it would be, though getting into bed is even worse. You turn in early, of course, completely drained from all you’ve done today, but you find the bed far too big and far too cold without Kylo beside you.

Tossing and turning, you lie awake until the wee hours of the morning, finally passing out after it seems your body cannot stand to be awake any longer.

---

Kylo’s absence and your foul night’s sleep does nothing for your mood the next day, and you spend much of the morning agitated and snappy. It feels as though your meeting with the Board will never end, and what’s worse, the Chairwoman seems to be in a particularly bright, almost mischievous mood today. You’re sure her cheerful demeanor stems from something that happened this morning, likely an incident that involved her spatting on a custodian or kicking a small child as she walked by. In any case, her shrill laugh and wolfish grin only serve to sour your mood, and as the meeting wears on and on, you grow more and more inclined to have Evan’s tongue cut out on site. However, she’s left you alone for the most part, so you feel as though the action would be unwarranted.

Not ten seconds after this thought crosses your mind do you find yourself reconsidering your self-restraint.

“Oh, my lady!” the Chairwoman exclaims, turning her sharp little eyes your way. Malicious intent curls out of her mouth like smoke as she speaks, you can practically feel the jab coming. “I meant to ask you— where has the Supreme Leader run off to?”

Holding back the urge sigh deeply, you regard the Chairwoman evenly, saying, “A planet in the Minor Possessions.”

You’re being very fair, you think, indulging Evan with the truth even though your husband’s location is none of her business. But she’s seemingly unsatisfied with this, and there’s a glint in her eyes that you don’t like.

“Well, you certainly are a good wife, letting him jet out like that on a whim,” Evan sighs. You’re keenly aware that all eyes are on yourself and the Chairwoman, everyone no doubt waiting to see how this volley between the two of you will play out. “I know I’d be much less inclined to let my man go if I knew that he was going to be out unattended with whores about.”

Evan’s smile is so bright, and you know it must be painful for her to set her face in such a fashion. Her comment is obviously meant to bait you, and you hate that you have to bite the hook— what she’s said is too scandalous to be ignored, and you risk letting her win if you don’t cast your own line.

“The Knights are not whores, Evan, at least to my knowledge,” you say, deadpan, though you do let a sort of wry smile play on your lips as you regard the rest of the table. “Though I don’t profess to know what they do in their free time, nor do I care.”

The quip gets most of everyone chuckling along with you, and Evan’s feathers are ruffled. She sharpens her verbal sword, trying in earnest to draw blood with her words now. “Yes, that may be true, but there are rumors that say that more than one of the Supreme Leader’s Knights of a Ren is a bit… more than just a knight in his eyes.”

If you didn’t know her, this remark might upset you, might make you worried that someone else is sharing Kylo’s bed while he’s away from you. But this is the Chairwoman, and she is nothing but a vile, spiteful woman who wants to make you squirm simply because she enjoys making people upset. She’s so threatened by you, this cruel, bejeweled woman. It’s pathetic.

You lean on the smooth black table before you, chin cradled in one hand. “Chairwoman, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, my lady,” Evan replies readily. Oh, and she thinks she’s winning, you can tell by the glint in her eyes.

“Do you ever get tired of coming up with the drivel that constantly spews out of your mouth?”

Your foe looks as if she’s been slapped, that stupid grin finally melting off of her face. She’s overstepped herself and she knows it.

“I— I was simply making conversation, Empress,” Evan says quickly, letting out a light, nervous laugh.

“No you weren’t,” you scoff, shooting daggers right into the Chairwoman’s gray eyes as you cut her down to size. “You were trying to insinuate that my husband’s abandoned me here so he can fuck someone else in peace.”

The Chairwoman flushes, sitting up straight as a pin as she goes to dispute this. “I—”

“Oh, will you shut up?” you spit, cutting her off. “All you do is fucking talk and talk and talk! Sometimes I think I should just do everyone a favor and cut your tongue out myself.”

Right about now, Evan, her little lapdogs, and even the other members of the Board all look like they’re about to soil themselves. The only person who remains cool, calm, and collected is Hux, glaring at the Chairwoman from your side as you finish your little tirade.

“But I’m not going to do that because I’m a nice person.” You break into a sarcastic, mean grin as you say this, turning Evan’s favorite expression right back on her now. “I am, however, ending this fucking meeting. My head is pounding, and I’m sick of listening to you hold court at my expense. Get your work done somewhere else and be ready to impress me tomorrow.”

Nobody moves, not even when you say that the meeting’s over. They’ve never seen you like this, threatening and aggressive. Really, you don’t take any pleasure in acting this way, but enough is fucking enough.

“Go!” you snap. “All of you!”

Everyone is up like a shot now, including the Chairwoman, fleeing from the room as if it were on fire. You remain seated, watching on with disinterest and contempt, sparing a glare to anyone who isn’t moving fast enough for your liking. Within seconds, you and the Chancellor are the only ones left in the room.

“You can tell me if that was too harsh,” you say to Hux after a moment, feeling a bit sheepish about your outburst now that it’s over with. The Chairwoman absolutely got what she deserved, but you probably shouldn’t have dismissed the Board the way you did.

Hux shakes his head. “They’re you’re subordinates,” he tells you. “You can talk to them however you like. Personally, I think it was time someone reminded them who they’re dealing with.”

That makes you feel a bit better about the whole thing, but you shoot Hux a look, teasing. “You’re my subordinate, you know.”

Your friend rolls his eyes, rising from his chair as he drawls, “Have me drawn and quartered for my insolence, if you must.”

But then the Chancellor gives you one of his reserved little grins, offering you his arm, and you can’t help but smile back.

The both of you decide that it would be nice to dine privately, so you arrange to have your lunch brought to you and Kylo’s quarters. Hux jokes that the Chairwoman will be accusing you of adultery next time she wants to toy with you, and the two of you have a good laugh about that one. Anyone who could actually believe that you and Hux are having an affair is an absolute moron.

You give Hux a little tour of your quarters while the two of you wait for your meal to arrive, letting him duck into your closet and ‘fresher to kill time. It comes as a bit of surprise to you that the Chancellor’s never visited these rooms before you and Kylo married, but you suppose he had no reason to. And in any case, you’re sure that Kylo’s always been a private person— he’s not partial to intimacy in general, and that goes double when it comes to conducting official business.

Hux is in the mood to chat, it would seem, tittering on about this and that as the two of you dig into your plates. You tell him about your abysmal night’s sleep, even going so far as to disclose that Kylo’s sudden departure upset you more than you’d like to admit. What with Hux’s usual no-nonsense demeanor, you’d been half expecting him to laugh at you for that; instead, he’s surprisingly sympathetic.

“It’s difficult to sleep without your lover,” your friend states, pushing some of his food around idly. “Some beds are just too big for one person.”

It’s only then that you notice how exhausted he looks, pale with dark circles stamped under his eyes. The vulnerability in Hux’s gaze is unmistakable when he sneaks a glance up at you, behaving as if he’s just told you something private, as if he’s made a confession. You assume that this is his very stiff, emotionally guarded version of opening up to you, and you feel rather touched that your friend has come to trust you in this way. Your first inclination is to press for details, to make Hux elaborate on what he’s just implied, but you know that he’d just clam up and refuse to speak about the matter ever again. So, you simply say that he’s right, eyeing your friend carefully as he nods and goes back to eating.

---

To say that you’re relieved as you crawl into bed that night would be an understatement. It’s been such a long day, and you want nothing more than to drift off to sleep and forget about everything for a little while. But like the Chacellor said earlier, your bed is too large and too cold without Kylo beside you, and you can’t make your thoughts stop racing. Your head is filled to the brim, images of the Chairwoman and Hux and your husband swirling together into a storm that chases sleep right out of the harbor of your mind. It’s infuriating, lying wide awake as your body screams for rest.

You find yourself tossing and turning, flinging yourself across the bed in every way possible in a vain attempt to make yourself comfortable. Still, nothing works, and after twenty minutes you’re about ready to burst into tears. The mere notion of getting another awful night’s sleep has you ready to throw a fit, and now more than ever do you wish that your husband was home holding you in his arms.

Kylo checked in with you earlier on the com, though your correspondence was quick. He told you that he and the Knights were doing fine and that the mission was going well, though he was vague on the details. You’d been reluctant to get off the line, happy to hear your husband’s voice, but then Kylo said it was time to make camp and that he had to go. Really, you would feel best if he were here with you, but hoping that he’s warm and safe will have to do for the night. Everyone is always telling you how tough Kylo is, but wish he didn’t have to be. It pains you to imagine him shivering, to think of him anticipating an attack even as he tries to rest…

Yes, you’d much rather have your husband next to you now.

Finally, after what feels like hours, your eyes grow heavy. Burrowing down under the comforter, you turn to face the pane of transperisteel on the far wall, drifting off with the stars glittering before you.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfiction #ame #my writing #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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queencarolinemikaelson · 4 years

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The Blood Bag

Klaroline Bingo as hosted by @klaroline-events Prompt // Blood Bag

This is chapter 3 in my fic The Other Side of Sacrifice, and fits nicely into one of my Klaroline bingo prompts! Hope you enjoy it! You can read the rest here!

Caroline passed out almost immediately after she stopped speaking. Klaus was pleased she wasn’t crying tonight, as she had been last night, but it pained him somewhat to see her so battered. For better or for worse, she was all he had for now. Maybe forever.

As she slept, Klaus decided he would explore the boundaries of the magic keeping him… wherever he was.

He’d never had to consider his own death before, or dying. He was arrogant enough to believe that was one night that would never come for him. But that didn’t mean his curiosity wasn’t piqued by the topic occasionally. Although, obviously the theories Klaus had collected over the years, were just that, theories.

He had always been an obscenely strong being, and as he said to Caroline, he knew a lot more about magic than he would ever be given credit for. He knew if he embraced the magic some more, pushed a little harder, concentrated deeply, he would likely be able to do something. Especially since he seemed to have regained control of his body.

He’d only had this form for the passed three days, as far as he could tell. Before that, he had his body, per se, but no control over it.

Klaus decided it was time to discover what would happen should he try and interact with the world around him.

He pushed himself up from where he was sitting on the table and tried to walk through the door of the cell. But he was stopped by the wall in the physical world.

Seemed he was not the walk-through-walls kind of ghost.

Next he moved on to messing with the lock on the cell door. If he couldn’t walk through walls, maybe he could snap the lock off?

That was also no use, because even though he could grasp the lock, feel it in his hand, he was unable to physically interact with it. Apparently, while he had corporeal form on his side of the veil, he was merely an imprint on the physical world; bound to be constrained by the cause and effect rules of Caroline’s side, with an inability to interact with it.

Yet.

He would not be discouraged, because before a couple of days ago, Klaus would have sworn he would be stuck calling to Caroline in her dreams for eternity, until he wasn’t. So he would take all ‘rules’ he gleaned as about his situation as a dead man to be temporary.

That got him to thinking, why had he gone from her dreams to her waking hours?

And, hadn’t she outlined a similar progression of things to him?

She said she felt his presence, then his energy – though he was fuzzy on the difference just yet – then the dreams. Then on the day he had become a permanent fixture in her realm, she had seemingly heard some of his interactions with her, but not all. He had been talking to her for days without her being any the wiser. Why the sudden change?

But he benched those questions for the moment – Caroline would likely be able to shed some light on all that when she woke.

Klaus decided he would make it his mission to get the blood bag to Caroline. Bill had left the bag in the cell that night, to tease and tempt his daughter while he wasn’t there. And Klaus was determined, if there was a way for someone on the other side to interact with the physical world, he would find it. And help Caroline feed.

He walked up to it, and placed his hand on it. Much like the lock a few minutes earlier, he could feel the cool plastic beneath his hand, but was unable to squeeze it, move it, pierce it or do anything else with it for that matter.

Klaus caught himself wondering whether the bag could feel him, the way he could feel it, but quickly rolled his eyes at himself. It was a bag.

But this notion inspired him. When he’d touched Caroline the night before, she had recoiled from him. But not just him, from his touch specifically. She felt something but Klaus had been in too much of a rage at the time to discover what that something was.

But maybe the rage was part of the equation?

Testing a theory, Klaus placed his hand back on the blood bag, and began to feel.

He let every moment of displaced hatred toward Bill Forbes that had built in him over the past two days flow through his body. He channelled the wild anger felt watching the man continually torture his only daughter. Klaus imagined the hellfire he would rain upon the Bill for laying a hand on his daughter. He let the fury flow through his veins, tickle his skin.

And right as Klaus was quivering with unsatisfied ire, picturing his fist plunging into Bill’s chest for even considering injuring his daughter out of a skewed sense of loyalty, his fingers contracted around the blood bag, and the blood bag squashed inward.

With great effort, using the momentum built from his fury, and the sudden rush of delight about unravelling one secret of this realm, Klaus seized the bag and flung it toward Caroline. Lucky for the young woman, Klaus had particularly good aim, and even with the extra force for his throw, the blood bag landed square in her lap.

Caroline woke with a squeal and a start, nearly dislodging the bag in her lap.

“Careful,” he hissed, much more aggressively than he intended on being, still boiling with anger after all.

“What the hell, Klaus!” Caroline cried, indignantly. “I was trying to sleep!”

“Lap,” Klaus barked, as he took deep breaths, attempting to calm himself.

Caroline looked down, her eyes bugged out, then she looked back at him, then back at the blood bag.

“How did you…” she asked, disbelievingly.

Caroline had enough give in her restraints that she could grasp the bag in her hand, and bend her torso forward to take a drink. Luckily her father had already popped the top, so she wouldn’t have to.

Klaus watched as Caroline desperately began to drink from the bag, and was pleased with his efforts. She would be healed and back to full strength in no time.

So imagine his surprise when after only three sips, Caroline fought off her urge to down the whole bag, and stopped drinking.

“Caroline, you have to drink,” he said, incredulously. “You need your strength.”

“I know, I know,” she said, heavily, her eyes still black, fighting her ravenous urge to finish her meal. “But we have to be smart about this, what’s dad going to do if he comes back in here in a few hours and this bag is empty? I’ve had enough to heal from the past couple of days, and shake Carol’s vervain. I will be stronger tomorrow. We have to take it day by day at the moment.”

All traces of his pent up anger evaporated as Klaus watched her, stunned.

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen,” she said, grateful for anything to distract her. “Nearly eighteen.”

“How long have you been a vampire?”

“A few months, I guess,” she said, shrugging. “What’s it to you?”

Klaus shook his head and walked over to her, shaking his head, deeply impressed by her ability to control.

He placed his hand on the blood bag again, and using the sudden rush of emotion for Caroline, managed to pick up the bag, and place it back on the table.

“There,” he said, proudly. “Bill will be none the wiser.”

It required a lot less energy to move than the first time, and Klaus wondered whether it was an object-by-object thing? Maybe once you moved something once, had that physical connection with it, then it’s easier to get to? Like flattening a path through thick brush in a wood – it’s always easier to follow a path already made.

“Now, that’s exciting,” Caroline said, visibly intrigued by his work. “Two days ago you could barely whisper, now you’re moving things and influencing people.”

Caroline giggled at her own joke, feeling exceptionally grateful for the blood. She knew she wasn’t at full strength, but she felt well enough to regain her good humour, and no longer felt and pain or exhaustion from the days of torture.

“What’s impressive, love, is that you did not rip through that bag like an animal,” Klaus said, sitting down on the table again. “I don’t know if I’ve ever encountered control like that from one so young. It’s remarkable.”

Caroline felt quite chuffed with herself. Sure, getting praise from the devil was still getting praise from the devil – but it was still getting praise all the same. She knew she had good control, but never even considered maybe she was remarkable.

“Thank you,” she said, a pleased smile on her lips. “Wait, how did you do it?”

Klaus explained the thought journey he embarked on once she fell asleep, about things he supposed and thought could be possible.

“I also have some questions for you, if you’re up to it,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“You talked yesterday about how you had a similar progressive of symptoms – for want of a better term – as I did. Presence, energy, dreams, whispers, then I was here, is this correct?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Caroline replied, trying to sit as gracefully as she could while her arms were tied to a chair.

“Do you have any theories as to why the progression?” he asked. “Because I had been talking to your during daylight hours for a lot longer than the first time you noticed me at the poky tavern with that wolf-boy.”

Caroline frowned, trying to think. Klaus couldn’t help but be a little charmed by the expression on her face, she was so focussed, it was adorable.

“I don’t know, I guess I was more worried about it,” she said, as though questioning herself. “That morning, when I woke with the creepy stalker in my dreams, thank you for that, by the way.”

“Not a problem, love,” he interjected.

“I resolved that I’d keep a firmer eye out for strange happenings, and then I would tell Bonnie if it got too much worse.”

Klaus nodded, mulling over her words in his head.

“And I was considering sharing what was happening with Tyler, because then at least I could talk about it with someone.”

“Yes, you and the wolf were getting quiet close,” Klaus said, disapprovingly. “Such a lap-dog, that one, always running around like you’d just stood on his tail.”

“Hey!” Caroline exclaimed. “He’s my friend.

“He’s more than your friend, love,” Klaus said, pompously. “I saw his attempts at ravishing you, don’t forget, disappointment to the wolf kind.”

Caroline balked.

“Oh my gosh, Klaus!” she shrieked, going bright red. “You watched us? Having… you know! How could you! Did you watch me in the shower!?”

Klaus couldn’t help but laugh at her indignation. It was rather amusing to him how much she’d taken all the supernatural happenings in her sleepy home town in her stride, but was still scandalised by the implication of immodesty.

“Calm down, love,” he chuckled. “I will have you know, I may be a murderous hybrid, but I was still raised a gentleman. I did not peak on you and the wolf, nor you in the shower, nor when your urges became too much and you needed to help yourself out. And I only peaked a little when you went swimming, and slept in those tiny pyjama shorts of yours.”

“Some gentleman!” Caroline blushed.

“Gentleman, yes, love, but still a man.”

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered. “What do you mean you didn’t ‘peak’?”

“I mean if you were in the shower, I faced the wall. When you were with the wolf, I was rolling my eyes too hard at his attempts to woo you, I couldn’t see anything anyway.”

Caroline rolled her own eyes at this, but couldn’t help but smile at his joke. Though she would never ever admit it to him, or anyone else for that matter, she felt a little bit sexy at the thought of him ogling her… even if it was creepy on so many levels.

“Let’s get back to the brainstorm,” Caroline said, still a twinge of pink in her cheeks. “The only the I can think is that the whole thing was on my mind more the last few days.”

“So the more you thought about it, the stronger the connection became,” Klaus mused.

“But why me?” Caroline said, a little distressed.

“I believe that will be the million-dollar question,” Klaus said.

“I guess also, at the party, when I saw you in the crowd, I was really wasted as well,” Caroline said. “Inebriation makes a girl an easy target.”

“Right you are, love,” Klaus said, thinking his way to the next logical conclusion. “So, when you were hit with that vervain dart, it seems reasonable to assume you were weak enough for me to come to this side through your weak grip on your consciousness.”

“Wow, that’s a lot,” Caroline said. “Adds up though, I was fighting you before then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was actively pushing you and the dreams from my mind whenever I could,” Caroline pondered. “I would think about it at night before bed, but didn’t let myself dwell too much, or else I scared myself.”

“Well a theory it may be, but it’s a solid one,” Klaus said, resolutely.

Caroline nodded, and the two of them fell into silence, though it wasn’t one of the tense silences they’d been tangled in before.

“Are you a hybrid over there?” Caroline asked, suddenly.

“What?” Klaus asked, sharply. It wasn’t something he had considered before that moment.

“Well you died after completing all the steps of the sacrifice,” Caroline said, a little wary of how aggressively he responded. “But you died during your first wolf transformation. I don’t know if that first transformation is essential to the sacrifice.”

“What has this got to do with anything?” Klaus said.

“I guess not much,” Caroline replied. “I was just interested. We’re stuck with each other for a while now, I think, I think that rates some interest in what’s going on with you. Plus, I think we need to be as honest as possible with each other, or it’s going to make existing real awkward.”

“I suppose,” he said. “But in answer to your question, I don’t know if I’m a hybrid. I can’t transform, but I also don’t need to feed, nor can I harm myself. I’m not hungry, or thirsty. I just exist.”

Caroline hummed in interest, filing the information away for contemplation at another time.

“Can you exist beyond me?” Caroline asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, obviously dad can’t see you, and you still exist on this side while I’m asleep, but,” Caroline paused, trying to find what she wanted to say. “I guess I want to know how much your connection to this side is connected to me. If you weren’t hanging around here just because you can interact with me, could you, I don’t know, hang out in Italy, even if it is just to see the sights.”

Klaus was, once again, a bit impressed with Caroline. It was the second times in as many minutes that she had posited an idea he was yet to consider. Klaus had been so focussed on making his connection with Caroline for the past few months, he never tried exploring elsewhere on his side.

“I’m not sure,” Klaus said. “Maybe I should give it a go today? When your father arrives I slip beyond this cell and see if I can traipse the outside world of Mystic Falls.”

“Oh, sure…”

Caroline looked nervously away from him, her fingers beginning to tap a soft, unsteady rhythm on the chair’s arm.

“What’s the matter?” Klaus asked.

“I don’t know, nothing,” Caroline said. “It’s nothing.”

“Caroline, it was you who implored some shared honesty.”

Caroline thought for a moment, searching for how to articulate best what she felt.

“I would feel more comfortable if you were here,” she said, tentatively, still not looking at him.

“What?” Klaus said.

“When my dad is… doing his thing…” she said, awkwardly. “I know you can’t do anything, and I know it’s so stupid, but having you there in the corner of my eye or whatever, makes me feel a bit more comfortable.”

Klaus gaped blankly at her for a good long while. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“I know, stupid. You’re like a million years old, and Elena’s murderer. And just a murderer. And my murderer, in fact. But I don’t know, you being here right now, makes me feel like someone is in my corner.”

Klaus still had not said a word, stunned by her admission.

“And obviously it wasn’t misplaced,” she said softly, smiling wanly at him. “You could have done anything with your experiments today. You could have used what you learned about the emotion channelling to hurt me, or get the door open and leave. But you used it to help me. I know I’m supposed to hate you, because of the murder, and the terrorising my town, and because you were a total jerk last night and the one before. But it’s not like any of your murders stuck, and like for real now there are other people doing just as much terrorising, and I was kind of a jerk too. So… Anyway, you helping me, I think that kind of makes us buddies now.”

Caroline knew she was rambling to fill to the silence, but she couldn’t help herself, it was such an old habit.

“I’m not a million,” Klaus said. “I’m just over a thousand.”

“Right,” Caroline drawled. “After everything I said, your takeaway was I exaggerated your age.”

But Caroline smiled as she finished her sentence, and she was pleased to find he smiled back.

“I think we can be buddies,” Klaus murmured, feeling possibly more vulnerable than he ever felt in his entire life.

“Buddies, or maybe I just have transferred my Stockholm syndrome from my dad to you,” she teased him, with a wink.

But before Klaus could answer, there was a squealing of an unoiled hinge opening, signalling the beginning of another agonising day for Caroline.

“Good morning, Caroline,” Bill said, as he unlocked the cell door. “Have you used your reprieve to think about what you can do better today?”

“Daddy, please,” Caroline said, immediately forgetting entirely about Klaus and their conversation. “You don’t have to do this, I don’t kill, I don’t even –”

But she was cut of by her instincts kicking in, as Bill opened the blood bag. Caroline’s fangs dropped, and eyes changed. She knew what that particular bag tasted like, and it was oh so sweet.

“Oh, Caroline,” Bill said, the picture of a father disappointed by a nothing more than a test score.

Without another word, Bill pulled the fateful chains, sunlight and his daughter’s screaming filling the room once more.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #kcbingo2020

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ohshcscenerios · 4 years

Text

Scenario:

You sit on a velvet couch cushion holding a warm cup of fragrant tea in your lap. The Host Club is in full swing before you; hosts dazzling their guests with charming smiles, striking up idle chatter, and wooing them with empty compliments. The guests all swoon under their spell, convincing themselves they are their host’s one and only, all except for one.

Your boyfriend is seated beside you, close enough to feel his elbow brush against your arm. You enjoy the physical contact but a guest seated to your right would beg to differ. Ever since you and your boyfriend announced your relationship you’ve noticed one particular guest giving you rude side glances and nasty scowls. You know she is jealous but since she hasn’t acted on her jealousy you let her be. So far she has been harmless, a frowning face in the crowd, but today that would change.

The guest to your right clears her throat, attempting to steal your attention.

“Excuse me, Y/N.” She says. “You might want to head off soon. The afternoon train waits for no one and you don’t want to miss it.”

You stare at her, confused and a little taken back by her bluntness. You weren’t prepared for her comment and now you scramble for a response, rendered speechless.

‘Should I respond?’ You ask yourself.

You feel your boyfriend shifting in his seat and you realize her comment also made him uncomfortable. You know him well, better than he would care to admit, and you know her comment isn’t settling well with him. He prepares to defend you.

Tamaki Suoh:

“Excuse me dear, but what do you mean by that?” He asks, his princely voice shading his annoyance – for now.

The guest shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly, “I am just reminding the commoner of the finicky train schedule. It would be embarrassing to miss the last train home.”

Tamaki’s eyebrows furrow together, his patience running thin for the shrew.

“My lady I would prefer if you didn’t refer to Y/N as a lowly commoner.”

You want to roll your eyes at which insult Tamaki chooses to address. Of course he would tackle the name calling before touching the obvious insults.

The guest frowns, not pleased to see her favorite host defending you. “I addressed her properly. Is it not fact that she is a commoner? My goodness Tamaki, to think you would be attracted to such novelties.”

Her blatant mockery broke Tamaki’s composure. He pushed himself of the couch to stand directly in front the guest. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the doors.

“I will not allow Y/N to tolerate this abuse. It’s a shame, for such a pretty face you are ugly on in the inside. Now be a good girl and disappear. You are no longer a guest in our Host Club.”

The guest looks at you, tears forming in her angry eyes, and jumps from her chair racing towards the doors. She disappears into the hallway, never to be seen by you again.

Tamaki returns to his seat beside you and cradles your hands while capturing your eyes within his azure blues.

“I’m terribly sorry you had to hear such vile, my love. Stay as long as you care to, I enjoy having you near me.” With that he brings your right hand to his lips and places a gentle kiss on your dorsal. His lips are gentle and tender, just like his love for you, and you are eternally grateful for the fire underneath his passion.

Kyoya Ootori:

Kyoya veers a side glance towards the guest and you recognize the flicker in his eyes. She has regrettably summoned the Shadow King.

“Such a bold statement coming from you, madam.” He says cooly.

The guest tilts her head to the side, her lips twisting into a frown. “What do you mean by that?” She asks.

“I mean to say you shouldn’t throw out petty insults like that, considering your situation.” Kyoya replies. His teasing voice tells you he will have fun exploiting the guest. After all, there’s a world of secrets hidden in his black book and no one is safe from its treachery.

Kyoya turns to face her and the guest’s eyes widen at the trace of disgust written across his expression.

“My situation? I’ll have you know I am –.”

“The heiress to a dying paper mill, yes I know all about you.” Kyoya interrupts her without hesitation.

The guest stumbles over herself, clearly shocked by Kyoya’s unforeseen knowledge about her family’s personal matters. She attempts to regain herself, maybe even rebuild her pride, as she turns to face you.

“Even so, I am still better off than this commoner. Unlike her I don’t have to rely on sleazy public transportation. My father may be hitting hard times but I still rank higher than her. I don’t understand how an intellectual like yourself would bother with such a lowly person.”

“Is that so?” Kyoya questions sarcastically.

Your face is burning with anger. You want to say something in your defense but your tongue is tied up, adrenalin stilling your words.

Suddenly you feel Kyoya’s lips press into your cheek. His kiss is soft, sweet even, and your eyes widen at his affection. The guest’s eyes widen too and you connect in your mind that Kyoya is taunting her.

“It appears you have no interest in proving yourself to anyone but me. So I say to you now, no one ranks higher than Y/N. To me you are merely wasted potential, a stain in the elite. Your wealth and status cannot hide your ugliness and for that this commoner stands on your head.”

The guest bursts into tears and runs out of the club, her face buried in her palms.

You glance up at Kyoya and see his temper hasn’t died down yet. You grab his hand and gently run your thumb into his palm. His dark eyes meet yours and instantly they soften. Even his scowl turns into a slight smile, filling you with a sense of pride that you of all people can tame the Shadow King.

Hikaru Hitachiin:

Hikaru sizes the guests with skeptical eyes, starting from her scuffed dress shoes to her ruffled collar. His love for fashion would tempt him to offer her a make-over but he doesn’t. He is tempted to offer her something else instead.

“How about you get on the afternoon train yourself.” He says, his anger quickly boiling to a dangerous level. You love Hikaru but his short fuse always gets the best of him. He doesn’t know where to draw the line until it’s too late.

She stammers off, “Excuse me? I will not step foot in such a dirty, disgusting, trashy –.”

“The only dirty, disgusting, trashy thing here is you.” Hikaru barks.

You feel his arm muscles tighten beside you and you move your hand over his forearm, hoping it would be enough to calm him down. You appreciate him wanting to defend you but you don’t want to scare off the other guests.

“Hikaru, it’s alright. Just ignore her.” You plead.

“How can I ignore her? Her dress is a wrinkled mess. She has hideous split ends. Even her shoes are scratched up.” Hikaru rolls his eyes, somewhat proud of his fashion analysis.

“How dare you! At least I look better than that commoner!” She shouts, pointing a lone finger directly at you. “I can have these menial mistakes fixed within the hour while your girlfriend would have to scrub floors for a month to afford the same treatments. Honestly Hikaru, what do you even see in her?”

Her poisonous words hit you in the chest and you feel you’ve had enough of this guest. You want to say something but your thoughts won’t come out. Your tongue feels frozen in place.

“Y/N has never scrubbed floors before nor will she ever need to, not with me. She may not be rich like you but her character is worth more than all the money in your tiny pockets. Whatever you have in your wallet won’t fix your disgusting attitude. Now leave before I really lose my temper.” Hikaru practically yells.

The guest scrambles from her seat and leaves immediately, trying to hide her embarrassment but failing. Her blush is too obvious as she races through the doors.

“What a drama queen.” Hikaru teases. He swings his arm over your head and pulls you into his side. He wants to draw you near so he feels like he has protected you. You allow him this, mentally noting to talk to him after hosting hours about raising our voices.

Kaoru Hitachiin:

Kaoru whips his attention to the guest but unlike his twin brother he is able to hide his distain behind a cool expression. You, however, know better since his hand finds yours and clutches it tightly.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. Why don’t you apologize to Y/N and we’ll move on from this.” He says with a smile. You pray the guest will accept his offer but to your dismay she frowns instead.

“Why should I apologize to the commoner? I am merely suggesting she catches her… erm… ride before she’s left stranded.”

Kaoru’s smile waivers and slowly his lips fall into a frown. He swings his arm around your shoulder and sways your body with his.

“Y/N wouldn’t be stranded but thank you for your concern.” He says, his sarcastic voice hinting at his annoyance.

The guest rolls her eyes. “You shouldn’t bother yourself with her. She’s made it this far in life without limousine rides and fancy dinners. Let her be, Kaoru. You’re playing with a kitten without a pedigree.”

Kaoru raises his eyebrows at her brave maliciousness. You and Kaoru know that once in a while a narcissistic queen flows in with the crowd. It’s usually up to the host to throw them out before too much damage is done. By the glimmer in Kaoru’s eye you figure he thought of a solution.

He gently takes the cup of tea from your lap and pretends to bring it to his lips before turning and splashing the tea onto the guest. She yelps in surprise, watching the tea stain her yellow uniform.

“Kaoru!” She cried.

“Oops,” he said with a mischievous grin, “I suppose my hand slipped. I hope you have a spare uniform somewhere.”

The guest shakes her head as tears cascade from her eyes. Completely humiliated she darts into the hallway.

Kaoru pulls you close and whispers into your ear, “I don’t care what anyone says... You’re my kitten, pedigree or not.”

Mitsukuni Haninozuka:

Hunny pauses his fork between his lips and slowly scrapes the piece of cake into his mouth as he hears the guest talk rudely towards you. You see his large brown eyes lose an ounce of their shine; a dangerous occurrence to notice.

“Y/N-chan is going to ride home with today so there’s no need for her to catch the train.” Hunny says, forking another bite of cake.

The guest sneers, “Why is she going to your home?”

Hunny swallows his bite of confection and looks at the guest, innocently saying, “To eat cake! Y/N-chan and I love to eat cake together, don’t we?” He turns to you searching for your reaction.

You happily nod your head. You do love eating cake with Hunny. It’s humanly impossible for you to consume as much cake as he does but you enjoy each other’s company all the same.

“No,” the guest says, “I mean why would you allow such filth into your home? The Haninozuka family is a prestigious name. Your father must disapprove of allowing a commoner into your home.”

Hunny places his fork beside his plate and puts a cloth napkin to his mouth, wiping away the crumbs of cake and frosting. His movement is careful and slow, very unlike Hunny, until you realize it isn’t the cheerful Hunny you’ve grown to love adore seated next to you.

“I suggest you stop talking,” Dark Hunny presses.

The guest seems stunned to see her favorite Lolita host suddenly turn so dark and serious. You have seen Dark Hunny a handful of times, mostly when bullies threatened his friends or during karate training. However you’ve never seen Dark Hunny appear to defend you. You feel a gush of pride thinking about Japan’s most skilled karate master standing up on your behalf.

Hunny flashes his darkened brown eyes at the guest and she gasps nervously.

“Leave.” Hunny orders.

The trembling guest slowly stands from her chair and walks out of the club.

“Y/N-chan, would you like some cake?” Hunny asks, masking his dark side once again. You nod and accept his forkful of chocolate cake. Ah yes, Hunny also enjoys feeding you cake.

Takashi Morinozuka:

Mori looks at the guest, his emotions hidden perfectly behind his stoic face, but you can see the anger building in his steely grays. His protective nature has never tolerated bullies and nay-sayers, especially when it concerned you. Though Mori was never a man to turn to violence or scare tactics the language he spoke with his eyes could do as much damage. No one wanted to go face to face with Mori because without him saying a word he would reign victorious in the end.

“Did you hear me, commoner? Your train is going to leave without you. Come one, hurry up. Let Mori-senpai entertain his real guests.” The guest tries to shoo you away with her hand. A classless move, really.

Suddenly you feel two large hands slide underneath your knees and across your back. You look up at Mori as he lifts you into his arms and holds you close to his broad chest.

“Takashi, what are you doing?” You ask, reaching for his shirt collar to keep balance.

Mori doesn’t respond with words but looks into your eyes, willing you to understand his motives. You see it nestled in his gray eyes, the need to protect you and keep you happy. He has always prioritized in keeping you safe and happy.

He carries you into the kitchenette and closes the door behind him. He slides his back down the wall until he’s seated on the floor with you still in his arms.

“Takashi…” You whisper, “Thank you.”

He kisses your forehead and rests his chin on top of your head.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He says quietly, as if he were to blame for the guest’s rude comments. His self-inflicted guilt speaks of how much he loves you. He so wishes to be that barrier between you and the unforgiving world. Whatever he can bear on your behalf he will.

You shake your head and position yourself to kiss him. Your lips brush against his which he reciprocates, pressing into the kiss. In this moment the world melts away, leaving you and Mori tangled in each other.

When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours and whispers, “I’m glad you don’t take the train anymore.”

You chuckle. “So do I Takashi. So do I.”

I’m sorry for the lame gifs, this story made it difficult to choose the appropriate reaction. I hope you enjoy! If you have a suggestion/prompt let me know!

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #tamaki suoh #kyoya ootori #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #mitsukuni haninozuka #takashi morinozuka #ouran scenarios #ouran blog

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