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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Dirty Work 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: We made it to Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The watch ticks on in your hand, counting down the seconds you spend trapped beneath the bed. Cowardice, embarrassment, shock. Pick one. You finally break your paralysis and crawl out from beneath he frame, listening cautiously as you drag yourself across the floor inch by inch.

You stand, glancing furtively around the room. You clutch the watch and turn, hovering it just above the night table. That's too obvious. It wouldn't just appear out of nowhere. You need to come up with a story but you don't know if any lie you tell could be believed. It seems, he even doubts you when you are honest.

You drop your hand to your side and near the door, turning your ear out to listen to house beyond. You grip the door handle tight and lift the door on its hinges as you open it. You slip out, easing the handle down then up to keep the mechanism from clicking.

You peer down the hall as you hear Mr. Laufeyson in his study, the shuffling and scuffing of drawers being pulled in and out.

There are two paths forward; put the watch somewhere and let him find it or return it to him and feign ignorance. You don't know which is better, both entail a lie you aren't equipped to tell.

You pad down the hall, sidling against the wall and into the library. You could pretend you were there all along, say you found the watch earlier. He would think you busy as he was in the shower. That you were in a world, and a room, separate from him.

You go to the desk and set the watch down as you sit. It takes you a moment to get your mind to focus and you open the lid of the laptop. You hit the power button and tap your fingers on the wood as you wait for it to start up. As the screen lights up, the door from the study opens. You don't have time to hide the watch. The path forward is paved.

Mr. Laufeyson sweeps in without pretense, as he often does. For as much as he resented his brother for the very same, he is comfortable in just barging in. You sit up and look at him over the top of the computer. He crosses his arms as his eyes peruse the space.

"You've not seen--" He begins, his voice trailing off as he faces you. Like a hound, his eyes fall instinctively to the watch. You don't acknowledge it.

You type the password in to unlock the computer. He comes forward and leans forward, spreading his fingers wide over the other edge of the desk. He hums.

"Where did you find that?" He dips his head down, gesturing to the left of your laptop.

"Uh," you let your eyes wander over, "oh!" You look at him with surprise, "I was cleaning and it was... by the sofa. I meant to return it but I haven't seen you, Mr. Laufeyson."

He squints and shifts his weight. He pushes himself straight and smooths his shirt. He is without his usual jacket. He takes measured steps around the desk and comes to stand right beside you. Too close. You feel the heat radiating from, smell the same scent from the room cloying from his figure.

"The sofa?" He questions as he snatches up the watch. He examines it, as if he suspects it is a dupe. "Why, I should be grateful, yes? You've found the very thing I was in search of."

"Er, I guess," you shrug and drag your fingers around the touchpad listlessly. "Uh, excuse me," you stand, the chair scraping loudly behind you, "I forgot my bag downstairs, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Hvitsten," he wags the watch at you, staying firmly in place, "a Norwegian brand," he explains, "this is the North Sea model. Backed with Lapis Lazuli," he turns the face out, "nice, isn't it?"

"Um, sure, Mr. Laufeyson, I... I don't know much about watches," you eke out.

"But you can see it is a fine watch, yes?"

You take a step back and he takes one forward as your leg hits the edge of the chair. You gulp and stare at the watch hanging over two of his long fingers, "I like the colour--"

"If you were to guess, what do you think this piece costs?"

You blink and shake your head. You don't understand why he's asking. Can't he just thank you and take the watch?

"I don't know, Mr. Laufeyson," you croak.

"A pawn shop might offer you a few hundred, but that would be a con," he scoffs and turns the watch over, bringing his left wrist up to hook it in place. "This particular model retails for over two grand. I expect that's more than your rent," he tuts, "a fair amount for anyone but I pay for quality."

"I... it is really pretty," you offer.

"Oh I am aware," he smirks, "naturally, it catches the eye. One can hardly miss it."

You frown. Is he accusing you? You don't say a word. You expect whatever you say wouldn't change his mind.

"So, what I mean to say is I am very grateful that you've found this," he tugs his cuff straight, "for it would be a great loss indeed."

He drops his arm and stays where he is. He does not retreat and despite the urge, you do not either.

"I must be mistaken to think Thursdays you were to clean the second floor only," he remarks, "though it may be a trick of fate that you did the first as well."

"Er, I... had a few minutes-- Mr. Laufeyson, my ledger is in my bag--"

"In time," he crosses his arms and leans back on a heel. You dare to glance up as his eyes scan you from head to toe, "these..." He dips his head to allude to your attire, "are new?"

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I thought-- no more jeans," you press your palms to the wool pants.

"Mmm," his hum is less than delighted, "still, lacking."

You wilt. You really tried and it's still not good enough. He unfolds his arms and you stand dumbly, frozen, as he reaches to pick a thread from your collar. It unravels and he lets it dangle before you.

"As I said, quality is worth the extra cost," he harrumphs and lets the thread fall, "I did provide you a rather generous signing bonus but perhaps your first check will provide adequate compensation."

You watch the thread fall and back up to bend and retrieve it. He watches you and you close your hand around the string.

"I'll throw this out," you assure him, "and grab my bag--"

"I did not dismiss you," he insists.

"I am coming back--"

"You do grow bold, yes?"

"Sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn't mean--"

"If you would let me speak, I might be able to tell you what I had in mind when I entered," he rebukes, "I have a delivery expected at two. I would need you to sign for it. Can I trust that simple task in your hands?"

You chew your lip and bow your head. He inhales and backs away slowly, "very well, go." He flicks his fingers at you dismissively, "grab your things and get to work.”

🧹

There's a pungent stench as you enter the house. The TV blares loudly from the living room as the stale waft of tobacco lingers in the air. But more, there's something far more putrid.

You peek into the living room. It's later than usual. Your father's head is tipped back as he snores upright. His oxygen tube is taught across his nose and the tank pulled against his leg. As you turn on a light, you notice the dark stain across the front of his pants. Oh no, that's what that smell is.

He gurgles, frightening you. At first, you think he's choking. He coughs and spits into his ash tray. He waves his hand in front of his face.

"What're you waking me up for?" He snarls.

"I was just checking on you--"

He groggily shifts back and forth, shaking his head as he gets his bearings. He looks down and you see him tense. He sits up and reaches for the remote.

"Um, did you need any help--"

"Piss off," he snips, "I was yelling for you earlier. Where were you?"

"I... was working. I told you--"

"Working? What the fuck is work? You? Pfft," he scoffs as he flicks through the channels.

"It's okay, dad, I'll grab you some new pants--"

"Shut up!" He barks. He's obviously embarrassed. You are too. Worse, your guilt sears in your stomach. You should've been there.

"Dad, it's not--"

"You're a dumb bitch, you know that? Shoulda let me fucking sleep," he grits out, "like you shoulda let me die. Now I'm hear sitting in my own piss with no fucking smokes."

He throws the empty pack at you and you wince. You pick it up as your eyes tinge hotly.

"Maybe... maybe I could look into getting a nurse. The doctor said--"

"I can take care of my fucking self!"

You snap your mouth shut and clasp the package between your hands.

"I'm only trying to help--"

"What? By keeping me in this hellhole? Eh? It's fucking torture. Why the fuck would you that?"

"Dad," you squeak, "I love you--"

"Proves how fucking stupid you are," he snorts.

You stand in scalded silence. You're just trying to help. That's all you've ever done and it's never been good enough.

"If you don't got smokes, go the fuck away," he hisses.

You obey and leave him, tossing the empty pack in the garbage. You head upstairs with heavy steps and yawn at your door. You drop your bag on the bed and go back to close the door. You lean on it as your tears begin to flow.

You can't do anything right. No matter what you do. It's like you're trying to get your head above water in the middle of a storm. You slide down to the floor and hang your head over your bent arms.

You know you can't stay home. As prickly as Mr. Laufeyson can be, he pays you well and he isn't entirely unkind. He didn't have to pay you a bonus but he did. He didn't have to hire you at all. Besides all that, he can at least admit when you've done something well.

It isn't him you can't say no to, it's the money. Not just to pay off the hospital but to keep the house running. For yourself as much as for your father.

And you can't leave your dad alone to fend for himself. He obviously can't, not anymore and he doesn't want your help. You might love him but there's only so much you can do.

You lift your head and inhale, sniffling roughly as you wipe your nose. Tomorrow, you'll go to the hospital and ask about home nurses. You'll have to find room in the budget.

🧹

You're out of breath as you get on the bus. You had everything timed out so you could get to Mr. Laufeyson's on time. Still, your usual bus went out of service and you had to get a transfer onto a different route. The change throws your entire day off and adds to the disparity of your week.

You get off a bit further from Mr. Laufeyson's as this bus doesn't go as far as the other. You run down the street, sweating in the black polyester pants and peach coloured button-up. You scramble to get out the phone and put in the proper code.

Your first try is with the one from the day before. On your second try, you clatter through and scurry down the path. The backdoor proves just as troublesome in your frantic rush.

You get inside and leave your shoes by the door. No cleaning, or at least, you don't plan on it. You near the bottom of the staircase, breathless and puffing, clinging onto the straps of your leather bag.

"You are late," Mr. Laufeyson strides out of the den.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm sor-ry," you gulp through repressed pants, "the bus--"

"I don't care about the bus. It is your responsibility to be here on time, regardless of the method."

"I understand--"

"I am starting to question if you do," he rebukes.

"Mr. Laufeyson, it won't happen again."

"I know it won't or you will not have another chance to be late," he warns, "you were not here to prepare the tea for my guest. I had to do it myself."

"Guest? I... didn't know--"

"I didn't ask if you knew. If you'd been here on time, you would have," he chides, "it seems, in my efforts, I forgot to fetch the biscuits with the teapot so you will go and do so."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you nod, "I'm so sorry--"

"Sorry, yes, I'm sure you are," he lifts his chin and turns on his heel, "you certainly will be..."

At first, you're not sure you've heard the words. That he would say something so callous. You back away, heart hammering as you try to convince yourself it wasn't real.

You go back down the hall and shove your bag in the back closet. You veer into the kitchen and search the cupboards; biscuits, biscuits, biscuits...

You find an unopened tin and bring it down onto the counter. You peel away the plastic and take out a sleek black serving plate. You use some tongs to lay out the biscuits neatly, an array of each type. You'd done similar for Corrissa with the hors d'oevres. You take the plate and carefully make your way into the hall, trying not to disturb the arrangement.

You enter with your head down, hoping not to disturb Mr. Laufeyson as his deep voice carries to the high ceilings. The curtains are open and the windows shine brightly. You peak up as you approach him and his guest.

She doesn't notice you until you're a foot away. You shy away from her gaze, her pupils a greenish blue and her golden hair silver along the temples. You place the plate on the round table by her elbow, just between the chair and the end of the sofa where she sits.

"And who is this?" She preens curiously.

"Mother, you needn't worry--"

"You hired a full-time maid?" She wonders.

"Mmm," he hums, "suppose she would be a house manager. She handles all the little details I don't have time for."

"Oh, like Evelyn."

"I suppose," Laufeyson agrees dryly.

You back away and look up again. Is that really his mother? She's beautiful.

"Please, darling, join us," she trills.

You blanch and look at Mr. Laufeyson as a line squiggles between his brows. He looks between you and his mother. Before he can protest she is on her feet.

"Please, I do love to get to know the staff," she approaches, "I'm Frigga. I hope you've heard a lot about me. His mother, of course. I only came to see that he's well... he never has time to call. Perhaps you might change that, hm?"

You glance over at Laufeyson again, frightened. Not just by this over friendly woman but by him. You don't know if you should say you have work and refuse or if that would be rude. She is his mother and you wouldn't want to upset.

"Mother, she does have her work--"

"Tosh, it can wait," she puts her hand on your arm and ushers you to the couch, "have some biscuits, darling, you look faint."

Laufeyson huffs but does not speak. He hooks one leg over the other and places his chin on his knuckles. He glares at you and you look to your lap.

You've done the wrong thing again but you're not sure there is a right option in this circumstance.

"These are my favourites," Frigga declares as she holds out a braided biscuit with large grains of sugar sprinkled over it. "Don't tell me these are the same I gifted you for the holiday," she tisks.

"I haven't much of a sweet tooth."

"I do forget, Thor tends to fancy the sugar," she chitters and returns her attention to you, "forgive me, I didn't get your name."

Your mouth is dry. You stare at the golden rings on her fingers. You clear your throat and utter your name, sealing your misdeed.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor #maid au #au

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changelingsandothernonsense · 10 months

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Wip when I get the time.

Hey! I got tagged again. Thanks to @thequeenofthewinter, @mareenavee, @friend-of-giants, @archangelsunited and @elfinismsarts for the tags, I'll get to everyone's posts! I've been avoiding certain parts of the internet this week for my sanity so have been a bit slow getting to things <3 Anyways this week is art and writing again. I've finished 1 art, almost finished another and started one that is a little on the NSFW side, yay me. Oh and because I've been down it's obviously more Josh because that's all my brain can draw atm. Art!

Yeah, Glock!Josh is almost done and the meme is almost over! Next art is under the cut coz length lol.

And here's the most self-indulgent thing I have ever created...the safety version!

It is very self-indulgent, will be a massive pain in the ass and I can't post the full image outside of discord and pillowfort but dammit I'm going to paint this!

Now writing!

More Josh, he's gotten off the boat and is stuck in a room. What's he gonna do? Fuck with Socucius Ergalla of course! It's all dialogue so feel free to skip and just look at the art. :)

“Thank you, now on to the next question,” the Breton paused for a moment, did he expect Teldryn to interrupt him again? “Your cousin-”

“I don’t have a cousin,” Teldryn interjected, oh he was going to enjoy this.

The Breton sighed before continuing his line of questioning, “Your cousin has given you a very embarrassing nickname and, even worse, likes to call you it in front of your friends. You asked him to stop, but he finds it very amusing to watch you blush.”

“Well, I don’t know what you Bretons like to do with your cousins but-“

“Will you shut up!” The Breton finally raised his voice at him, just the rise Teldryn was looking for.

“Of course, officer, please do continue with these very important questions,” he pointed at his right ear, “I’m all ear.”

“Your three options are, A. Beat up your cousin, then tell him that if he ever calls you that nickname again, you will bloody him worse the next time.”

Teldryn nodded, he’d let him finish this one.

“B. Make up a story that makes your nickname a badge of honour instead of something humiliating. Or C. Make up an even more embarrassing nickname for him and use it constantly until he learns his lesson.”

“All three,” Teldryn stated before scratching his nose again.

“Choose one please,” the Breton’s tone was becoming increasingly irate.

Teldryn laughed and took a step towards the desk, sitting on its edge. His chains shook as he moved, “You see first I’d cover for myself, make that name sound all heroic in front of these friends.” He moved some of the papers to the side, earning a somewhat mortified look from the Agent. He grinned at the Breton before continuing, “Then I’d call my cousin over, wait for him to use it again and beat the shit out of him. Teach him a lesson and all that. I’ll have plenty of ammunition for an even worse name later!” He laughed to himself before standing back up and returning to his original position, “It’s fucking brilliant!”

The agent just pinched the bridge of his nose, bit his tongue, “Next question.” Teldryn would take that as a win.

“There is a lot of heated discussion at the local tavern over a group of people called 'Telepaths'. They have been hired by certain City-State kings. Rumour has it these Telepaths read a person's mind and tell their Lord whether a follower is telling the truth or not.”

Teldryn remained quiet this time, why not let him continue this one?

“What do you think of this rumour? A. This is a terrible practice. A person's thoughts are his own and no one, not even a king, has the right to make such an invasion into another human's mind.”

Well, this was an odd one, didn’t the Empire use these sorts of mages in their spy rings?

“B. Loyal followers to the king have nothing to fear from a Telepath. It is important to have a method of finding assassins and spies before it is too late.”

“What kind of bootlicking response is that?” Teldryn muttered under his breath, it earned him a stern glare from the Agent before him.

“And finally, C. in these times, it is a necessary evil. Although you do not necessarily like the idea, a Telepath could have certain advantages during a time of war or in finding someone innocent of a crime.”

“How are any of these answers options?” Teldryn shifted his weight where he stood, why was this room so hot? “Oh, I don’t know…The first option is the least stupid.”

“That is the most common response among recruit- “The Breton paused, he’d clearly misspoken, Teldryn decided to keep that bit of information for later, “amongst those being released.”

Teldryn just nodded silently, the word recruit still swimming in his mind.

“Question five, your mother sends you to the market with a list of goods to buy. After you finish you find that by mistake a shopkeeper has given you too much money back in exchange for one of the items.”

And the thought of his mother trusting him with coin and a list sent Teldryn into another laughing fit, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please continue,” This was just ridiculous!

The Breton furrowed his brow. Clearly, he was trying his best to keep his composure, “Do you A. Return to the store and give the shopkeeper his hard-earned money, explaining to him the mistake. B. Decide to put the extra money to good use and purchase items that would help your family. Or C. Pocket the extra money, knowing that shopkeepers in general tend to overcharge customers anyway.”

“Is this a trick question?” Teldryn asked, “You do know what I was arrested for? Right? It’s in that fancy notebook you’ve got there.” Teldryn pointed to the ledger that the Census and Excise Agent had closed earlier.

“It’s a hypothetical situation, now could you please answer the question without all the commentary please.”

“What do you think?” Teldryn shook his head.

“I don’t know, you need to answer the question.”

“The latter,” he looked up at the ceiling and noticed a long, thin crack in the plaster, how much longer was this going to take? He was beginning to feel restless, for a variety of reasons, he did just wander off a cramped ship after all.

The Breton took a deep breath before moving on to the next question, “While in the marketplace, you witness a thief cut a purse from a noble. Even as he does so, the noble notices and calls for the city guards. In his haste to get away, the thief drops the purse near you. Surprisingly no one seems to notice the bag of coins at your feet.”

“Oh, another trick question ha?” Teldryn moved back onto his heels, the shackles around his ankles pinching at his skin. He really wanted those things off. The old man ignored his comment.

“Do you choose option A. Pick up the bag and signal to the guard, knowing that the only honourable thing to do is return the money to its rightful owner.”

“What bullshit!”

The Breton glared at him again, “Do you B. Leave the bag there, knowing that it is better not to get involved.”

“Also bullshit and terribly stupid.”

“Or finally do you choose C. Pick up the bag and pocket it, knowing that the extra windfall will help your family in times of trouble.”

“Oh, come on officer! What kind of leading questions are these?” Teldryn watched as he scribbled something down into that ledger. Notes? Was he being assessed? Teldryn sighed, “Fine, the last one.”

“Thank you, question seven, your father sends you on a task which you loathe, cleaning the stables. On the way there, pitchfork in hand, you run into your friend from the homestead near your own. He offers to do it for you, in return for a future favour of his choosing.” He paused, glancing at Teldryn for a moment before continuing, “Do you A. Decline his offer, knowing that your father expects you to do the work, and it is better not to be in debt.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Enough commentary please,” the Breton snapped. He wrote something else down in that ledger as he continued his line of questioning, “Do you choose option B. Ask him to help you, knowing that two people can do the job faster than one, and agree to help him with one task of his choosing in the future.”

“Also stupid,” Teldryn interjected again.

“Please just let me finish,” no, this was stupid and Teldryn was adamant that he’d prove that point, “Or finally C. Accept his offer, reasoning that as long as the stables are cleaned, it matters not who does the cleaning.”

Teldryn smiled, He attempted to fold his arms but got caught in the chains, he leaned back instead, “Oh that’s easy, if the s’wit is stupid enough to want to shovel guar-shit, then he can shovel guar-shit.”

“Interesting way to put it, most ah, prisoners choose the second option,” he continued scribbling down what Teldryn assumed was his answer or a commentary on his answer, he couldn’t quite see.

“Well then, most prisoners are stupid,” Teldryn offered, he found another knot in his hair to fiddle with. It felt greasy, he didn’t like it one bit.

“Question eight, your mother asks you to help fix the stove. While you are working, a very hot pipe slips its mooring and falls towards her.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” The Breton questioned, pausing long enough to dip his stylus into the inkpot.

“I’m not helping mother with a stove! This question is stupid! Next!”

“Please, we only have two left!” the Breton’s composure slipped again as he raised his voice at Teldryn, “Now option A-“

“Next. Question.” Teldryn growled through gritted teeth, he was officially over these questions and it seemed that in this case, the Census and Excise Agent was just as willing to move on.

He flipped through a few pages, marking each as he went, the elderly man appeared to be clenching his jaw as he went, “Question nine, while in town the baker gives you a sweet roll. Delighted, you take it into an alley to enjoy only to be intercepted by a gang of three other kids your age. The leader demands the sweet roll, or else he and his friends will beat you and take it.”

“Kid sounds like a dick, if you ask me,” Teldryn interjected, really what was the point of this?

#wip whenever #my art #my writing #teldryn sero #dunmer #danger!josh #skyrim #morrowind #nerevarine!teldryn #nerevarine #Morrowind fic lol

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luxmaeastra · 4 months

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Iseult titled her head, listening the reports. Her lips thinned, iron nails drumming on her sette.

"Pull your siblings then. The Lesser Dens will come here next and I will not bid them entry. While I'm not happy to break contracts, it must be done to protect the Den."

"Yes Mama."

Iseult stood, walking down the dias and through the small door behind the throne. Tristam was looking over the little hatchlings, cataloging reactions and movements to a small round of stimulus - light, dark, cold, heat.

"What's the latest?"

"The Lesser Dens are breaking their shackles and will likely come here."

Iseult sighed, fingers running over one of their children.

Lilith's brood still did it all natural. Lilith didn't have her first centum waiting for gestation. That wasn't efficient or profitable.

"Well what can we expect from them. Will you asking the children to bringing any new blood here?"

"I suppose, should you think we should indulge this mate nonsense for them?"

Tristam frowned and set his notebook down. Iron nails, pushed some of her hair behind her ear.

"Do they ask for it? I agree their curious but they wouldn't know how to rear them."

Yes, her love was right. While they needed new blood, and protections against whatever awful concoction the Valg made next...she and Tristam raised the children. She didn't trust the others to know how to do the things they did.

They'd slowly given some of them that information but nowhere near what they knew.

She knew it was a weakness but she adored the little ones crawling over her and demanding her attention.

"No, maybe we can give them any of the orphans and see how that goes."

He tilted her face to him, making her look at him.

"Do you wish to step down darling?"

She shook her head, the gold on her glinting in the candlelight.

"No, but I worry for the changing times."

"There will always be wars, they will always need our children."

------

Sebastian sighed and looked to the messenger from Rask.

"Pulling back? Why? What's happening?"

The messager shrugged eyeing the gold goblet he'd left. He eyed it with them and looked back to them.

"You want it? Tell me."

The messenger sneered and turned to Sebastian.

"We have more than enough, we don't need such pitiful parlance....but as I like you. I will say be wary of the ones in camps - we are hearing things."

"None of yours are in the camps."

"We have our ways. Good luck Sebastian."

Sebastian found Natalia later that night.

"Rask is pulling their soldiers out of the contracts across the realms. Something is happening. The messenger spoke of the labor camps. Have you heard anything in your travels?"

Rask was held the most powerful army in the realm. The Changelings that ruled there were the ones to formalize the siphon stones in combat. Their teachings were taught in all of the Valg War Camps.

Their mercenary armies cost a small fortune and many kingdoms and principalities payed it for their adaptability, ruthlessness, and loyalty.

The news was getting more dire with each and every day, the world was getting bleak. The further they had gotten from the wars, had they become more complacent? Did they think that peace would come?

Her eyes rose from the flames of the flickering fire, her attention drawn to him when he found her curled up contemplating her own thoughts and news.

So he to had heard. She sipped at her drink, her nose creased slightly before she lowered her glass. “Grumblings, a sense of discord,” she admitted. “I haven’t heard specifics, but nothing that could help us at the moment. I did send a letter to Day, maybe they have heard something? They have people our look for information all the time.”

Natalia closed her eyes and sunk back in her seat, her shadows reached out to brush against Sebastian. “Should we start planning, getting barriers in place?”

#Muse | Natalia

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theraspberryler · 3 years

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IRL Benchtrio Tickle Fic (creative, I know)

Welp, here you go! This is my first ever fic, and I’m actually kinda happy with how it turned out.

Summary: Ranboo’s staying with Tubbo in the UK, and Tommy goes over to visit them. However, Ranboo ends up finding himself in a,, mood, of sorts. He overthinks the situation too much and ends up freaking out, but luckily, he’s got two awesome friends who are there for him! (hurt/comfort)

~This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, then move on please~

TW - Panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ranboo had been in the UK with Tubbo for a couple days now, and the two of them have been having a blast, the pure joy and excitement of finally getting to see each other in person had given them the energy to keep going constantly over the past two days, with them doing multiple streams and other activities. They had decided to meet up with Tommy that day, planning to record a vlog for Tommy’s vlog channel, but the past nights of practically no rest had caught up to the two, and when Tommy arrived at Tubbo’s house and saw how exhausted they appeared, he insisted they take the day to rest. They could record the vlog later, it wasn’t a big deal.

Of course, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately protested, but once Tommy made up his mind he was a force to be reckoned with. Eventually they settled to spend the day relaxing at Tubbo’s house, no cameras, and Ranboo had to admit, it was pretty nice. The three of them hadn’t had the chance to just talk without the stress of cameras being in their faces for quite a while, and they all needed the chance to just mess around and act like kids. No need to worry about carefully choosing their words to avoid any discourse.

Tommy was currently sitting in the chair at Tubbo’s desk, aimlessly spinning in circles as he recalled the events of the previous day, waving his hands around with an animated expression. Tubbo and Ranboo were seated on opposite ends of Tubbo’s bed, Tubbo laughing at Tommy’s over dramatic retelling of,,, something. Despite his best efforts, Ranboo couldn’t seem to pay attention to Tommy’s words. He told himself that he didn’t know what was causing his fidgety mood, but he knew he was lying to himself.

Earlier that day when Tommy first arrived, he shoved the door open with his usual flair, and loudly announced his arrival. Obviously excited to see him, Tubbo and Ranboo rushed over to greet him. Ranboo had instantly gathered Tommy up into a hug and held him close. And despite the show Tommy put up of not liking Ranboo, he latched onto the other as well, though of course not without poking fun at the other for being so eager to greet him, and a few playfully exchanged insults. That had been great, the thought brought a smile to his face. The part that had Ranboo squirming in his seat right now, was the way Tommy scribbled his nails into his sides after not being able to come up with a witty comeback to one of Ranboo’s playful jabs. It was brief, and after laughing at the squawk Ranboo let out good-naturedly, he dropped it. But, it was more than enough to send Ranboo’s brain spiralling into a lee mood, which only intensified as the playful atmosphere in the room continued.

Ranboo had told Tubbo before about this,,, liking of his before, and he had responded with only positivity, and he knew deep down that Tommy wouldn’t judge him either, but he still tried to forcefully shove the mood down, still telling himself that it was weird, and that Tommy and Tubbo would surely mock him if he admitted to them how he was feeling.

The only problem was, while Ranboo was lost in thought, the other two had noticed how unusually quiet he had been, and Tommy paused his storytelling, asking if he was alright. At the attention being turned to him, Ranboo froze up, and his nerves kicked in, but he still tried to play it off.

“I-I uhm, y-yeah, I’m fine.” Ranboo cursed himself for his lousy attempt to reassure them, and the other two clearly didn’t buy it.

“You sure, ‘Boo? If we’re doing something to make you uncomfortable, you can tell us.” Curse Tubbo for being so damn sweet, and those big, worried eyes that were carefully observing him. Ranboo fidgeted in place, refusing to make eye contact with either in the room. He was silent, getting increasingly frustrated with himself. Why couldn’t he come up with a response? Why did he have to be so bad at social interaction? This is so stupid for me to get worked up about, just say something!

As Ranboo remained silent, Tommy and Tubbo’s concern for him only grew, and Tommy pushed himself up from the chair he was sitting in. making his way over to sit on the bed next to him. Seeing how uncomfortable Ranboo seemed, they didn’t push him to talk anymore, and both shuffled around to sit on either side of him. Ranboo risked a glance to his side, and, catching his gaze, Tommy offered him a kind smile, slowly reaching out to softly grasp his hand. And, oh shit, Ranboo could feel that familiar burning behind his eyes, and he quickly pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face into them. God, why were they always so sweet to him? He was getting so worked up and upset over a stupid mood, and couldn’t even manage to say anything to them! In his frustration with himself, the tears in his eyes began to overflow, and his breath hitched.

Tubbo pressed up closer to him, bringing his arms up to wrap around Ranboo, before he paused.

“Hey, ‘Boo, it's alright. Can I touch you?” Ranboo managed a nod at that, and Tubbo wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. It was a little awkward with Ranboo being so much taller than him, but the embrace still served its purpose and Ranboo melted into his touch. Tommy brought his free hand up to Ranboo’s back, rubbing circles into it.

“Hey, Ranboo, it's okay. We’re here. Breathe with me, yeah?” He hadn’t even noticed how his breathing had sped up, but he allowed Tommy to guide him through the panic attack, as he counted their breaths, in and out, moving the hand on his back up and down along with the rhythm.

After a few minutes of counting and failed attempts, Ranboo had managed to considerably calm down. In that time, the three of them had managed to maneuver into a laying down position, both Ranboo and Tubbo practically laying on top of Tommy, nearly crushing him, but somehow, they were comfortable. After a couple more moments of them all breathing together, Tubbo broke the silence.

“Hey, ‘Boo, you think you could manage to tell us what happened? You don’t have to, but it would help Tommy and I be able to help you.” Ranboo took a deep, stuttering breath, before he opened his mouth to speak. His voice was rough and scratchy, but he pushed on anyway.

“I-Its stupid, really. I was just in a certain, u-uh,, m-mood, and got frustrated with myself. I-I’m fine, really, I was just upset that I couldn’t say what I was thinking.” Tubbo caught on to what Ranboo meant by “mood” pretty quickly, Ranboo having told him about it before. Tommy still didn’t know what he meant by that, but pushed on anyways, and spoke up.

“That's not stupid at all, not being able to say what you’re thinking can be really frustrating and scary. You did a great job just now, though, with telling us what happened, I’m proud of you for that.” Ranboo whined at the slight praise, though he couldn’t deny how Tommy’s words and reassurances made him feel better.

Tubbo forced himself to sit up, stretching his arms and rubbing his eyes.

“Why don’t we put on a movie? And, uh,, if you wanted to um,, do something about that mood, ‘Boo, we could. Or not! Whatever you’re comfortable with, I don’t wanna push you! We could just watch the movie!” Tubbo was hesitant to offer; not because he didn’t want to help Ranboo with his mood, oh no, he just didn’t wanna make him uncomfortable, or make him feel like he had to.

At the offer, Ranboo felt his face heat up. Wow, and to think that he could have just gotten that so easily. Ranboo pushed the mildly self-deprecating thought away, and shyly nodded in response, hiding his face in his hands. Tommy, still confused as ever, just watched their interaction, not saying anything.

Tubbo gently pulled one of Ranboo’s hands away from his face, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Is it alright if I explain to Tommy, ‘Boo? You know he would never judge you.” Ranboo looked away and nervously bit his lip, but nodded after a few moment’s hesitation, pulling his hand back. Tommy looked between the two, his confused expression growing concerned, both because he was worried this “mood” Ranboo was in was something bad, and because Ranboo had thought that he would judge him for it. Tubbo noticed Tommy’s concern, however, and was quick to set him straight as he guided Ranboo to lay down on the bed of his back.

“Don’t worry, Toms, it's nothing bad. Ranboo explained it to me over Discord one night. I’m pretty sure he called it a ‘lee mood,’ which basically just means that he's in the mood to be tickled!” Tubbo didn’t miss the flustered squeak that Ranboo let out when he said the word, and smiled fondly at him, even though Ranboo couldn’t see it, since he was covering his face.

Tommy, upon hearing that indeed nothing was wrong and this “mood” was something as sweet and innocent as that, instantly lit up.

“Awe, Ranboo, that's so sweet! There's nothing wrong with that at all! You want us to tickle you, big man? Is that alright?” Ranboo squeaked again, and thought this just may be the most flustered he's ever been, but it’s not a bad feeling. Definitely not.

He couldn’t even attempt to hide how happy Tommy’s positive response made him, and at the light, teasing tone in Tommy’s voice towards the end sent tingles down his spine. Unable to find his words, Ranboo just nodded in response, curling up slightly. He let out yet another squeak as he felt someone’s hands on his sides, unable to hold in his anticipatory giggles even though the hands weren’t even moving yet. He shyly peaked out from behind his hands to see who had placed their hands on him, only to immediately hide again as the other two cooed at his reaction.

“Giggling already, ‘Boo? I haven’t even done anything!” Ranboo shook his head in response, his giggles heightening in pitch.

“Dohohon’t tehehease!” Tubbo pouted playfully at Ranboo, not that he could see him.

“Awe, why not? It's fun teasing you, because I get to see your adorable little flush and hear your sweet giggles!” Ranboo only whined louder, causing both lers to laugh.

Tubbo began to lightly massage little circles into Ranboo’s sides where his hands were laying, occasionally scratching his nails into the sensitive skin. Ranboo, his sides being a fairly bad spot and already being wound up from the teasing and anticipation, let out an embarrassingly loud squeal, arching his back.

“Whoa, did you see that Toms? His sides must be sooo ticklish!” Tubbo snickered.

As much as he was enjoying watching Tubbo tickle Ranboo to bits, Tommy decided he was bored of just watching, and would find a spot as well. After a couple moments of consideration, Tommy fluttered his fingers over Ranboo’s neck, gasping excitedly at the squeaky giggles the spot produced. Ranboo shook his head back and forth and scrunched up his shoulders, still keeping his hands over his face.

“C’mon, ‘Boo, stay still for me, yeah? It’s hard for me to tickle you when you’re moving around all over the place.”

Ranboo still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it had been such a long time since he’d been tickled, he honestly wasn’t sure where he was ticklish, or even if he was ticklish at all anymore.

So when Tommy’s fingers glided over his ears by accident, even he was surprised by the shrill shriek that he let out. The sound startled the other two into stopping for a moment, and Ranboo felt himself flush darker. He was about to start apologising when suddenly Tommy’s fingers were back to his ears, tracing his nails around the shells of them.

“Holy shit ‘Boo, I didn’t even know someone’s ears could be so ticklish,” Tommy giggled.

“SHUHut uhuhuhup!” Ranboo’s plea fell on deaf ears, as Tubbo picked up his tickling at Ranboo’s sides.

“No fair! How come Tommy gets the good spot?” Tubbo playfully complained, a childish pout on his face. Tommy let out his signature barking laugh, and stuck his tongue out at the other.

“Sucks to suck, bitch boy!” Tubbo just huffed in response, deciding to try out a different spot; maybe he could find a spot worse than his ears.

Ranboo would normally laugh at them and play along with their childish antics, but something about how they were talking about tickling him so casually was extremely flustering to him.

“Guhuhuys! NohoHOHO!” Tubbo’s fingers had pressed into the divots between Ranboo’s ribs, vibrating them in place. Ranboo threw his head back in laughter, his hands finally leaving his face to instead latch onto Tubbo’s wrists, though he didn’t push them away.

Tubbo grinned victoriously, flashing Tommy a cocky smirk as Ranboo began kicking his legs out underneath him. Tommy just growled in response, immediately searching for a new spot. He experimentally squeezed at Ranboo’s thigh, being rewarded with another hiccup, but not much else. Tommy pouted as Tubbo cackled at him, narrowing his eyes at the shorter.

“‘Sucks to suck,’ huh Toms?” Tubbo mocked, eyes lighting up as he reached Ranboo’s upper ribs, causing Ranboo to let out a louder hiccup than the others and a squeak.

Ranboo couldn’t even attempt to form proper words now, between how hard he was laughing and how flustered he was, and he was enjoying every second of it. After a bit longer, Tubbo began to slow down his fingers, allowing Ranboo to take a breather.

As Ranboo began to recover, Tommy smirked as he got an idea. He gracelessly shoved Tubbo off of Ranboo, earning him an undignified squawk from the shorter, before he sat himself on Ranboo’s hips and unleashed all ten of his fingers along his belly.

Ranboo jolted like he was electrocuted, not expecting the sudden attack, before snorting and falling into loud belly laughter. As Tommy crowed victoriously, Tubbo couldn’t even bring himself to be upset that he lost their little ‘competition,’ instantly cooing at Ranboo.

“Awwe, does someone have a ticklish belly?” After a moment of violent thrashing, Ranboo went limp, and just accepted his fate. Even though he was laughing so hard his belly was starting to hurt, and he could feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, he couldn’t deny how good this felt. To be so carefree around his friends, not even trying to muffle or contain his reactions as he snorted and laughed to his heart's content.

“NAHAHAHA- *snort* T-TOHOHOMS!” Tommy laughed as his name was called out, pulling his hands away from Ranboo’s belly, flopping on the bed next to him. Tubbo climbed back up on the bed as well, laying himself across the other two. Tommy grunted from Tubbo’s weight being added onto him, and pulled Ranboo into his arms, rubbing his back soothingly. Ranboo buried his face into Tubbo’s hair, trying to regulate his breathing. After a minute of comfortable (almost) silence and Ranboo’s giggling still hadn’t let up, Tubbo laughed, rubbing his shoulder.

“You alright, Boo?” Ranboo nodded, his head falling back against the bed, taking deep breaths.

“Y-yeahahaha, I’m goohohod.” Tommy fondly rolled his eyes as the giggling still didn’t completely stop, pulling the two closer to him. Tubbo shifted around, wrapping himself around Ranboo, before relaxing and closing his eyes. The only two followed shortly after him.

“Softyinnit.”

“Shut the fuck up Tubbo.”

#tickle fic #mcyt tickle fic #lee!ranboo #ler!tubbo #ler!tommy #ler!tommyinnit

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

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Chrollo, Hisoka, and Illumi Headcanons

Chrollo, Hisoka, Illumi, and Leorio headcanons

Hello, anon! I am so sorry for taking longer than usual to respond to this post. I have been so busy with A LOT lately but I have time now! I don’t know if you want N/SFW, romantic or non so I’ll go based on what comes to mind! I know many Tumblr users have made these types of assumptions for them a lot but I wanted to join in. I started writing this last night so forgive me if there are any unbearable grammar errors. I hope you like it anon, I tried my best. I have to work on my headcanons for them because I try to keep them in character. Since we don’t have much background info on ⅔, I have to keep it as realistic as possible. FYI N/SFW content is mentioned.

Discord for Voltron and HxH fans

Let’s start with Chrollo.

Chrollo (SFW)

I’ve seen on here that a lot of you headcanon Chrollo to be an understanding man when it comes to feelings for his significant other. Given his soft voice and calm demeanor, I’m sure that is somewhat true.

It seems like Chrollo isn’t on board with over-the-top PDA meaning he would agree to hand-holding and his arm around you but nothing more. He saves the...other stuff for when you two are alone. Because of Chrollo’s past, it seems like he wouldn’t want to be seen in public that much because that can cause him to get caught by the authorities.

He takes your safety very seriously. You understand that when he is with the Phantom Troupe that you are not to interrupt until the business is over. He doesn’t allow you to get involved with the missions because of how dangerous they can be (example: the auction). He knows you can handle it, he prefers for you not to be involved. Feelings and work can make things difficult.

Although Chrollo hides in the shadows, I imagine he lives in a penthouse with expensive furniture, white and black color pattern, and large windows that have an astonishing view of Yorknew.

After you both have worked long and hard, you open the door just to see the lights dimmed so dark that it matches the night atmosphere. There are rose petals leading to the bathroom where a bubble bath is waiting. As you enter the bathroom, your boyfriend is waiting there, submerged in bubbles sticking his arms out. Candles light up the tiny room casting a romantic shadow from your body. You grab his hand and gently sit in the tub. The warm water felt amazing; it helped your aching muscles (from exercising) feel better. Chrollo gently grabbed your arm and pulled you into a warm, loving embrace. He wrapped his toned arms around your body and rested his chin on your shoulder. He didn’t say a word but instead breathed heavily, kissed your shoulder, and leaned back against the wall. On days like this, he didn’t say much but his actions spoke louder than words.

Chrollo NSFW

I think Chrollo is a passionate lover. This assumption comes from his calm demeanor. He seems to be incredibly patient so if you aren’t positioning yourself the right way or something, he’ll work with you to make sure you get it and you are comfortable.

He is touchy. That means during the nitty-gritty, he likes to touch your face, chin, lips, and your torso as a way to show more affection.

When he is in the mood, he moves slowly then very fast. He cannot resist the urges and feelings he has for you.

He loves to do this while the drapes are open although you have expressed that you like your privacy. It’s ironic. He doesn’t like extreme PDA but is ok with sleeping with you while the lights from the city shine near your penthouse window. Ah, guys are confusing.

After the climax, he lays flat on the bed and pulls you close. He leaves about an inch in between because heat is still radiating off your bodies and it’s summertime.

Hisoka (SFW) If his significant other was shy.

People have mixed feelings about Hisoka, feelings, and whether or not if he is gentle or not. I don’t think that Hisoka is gentle but begins to lay off the harsh jokes or pranks as he sees that you both have fought before and you’re not as weak as he thought.

Unlike Chrollo, he is all for PDA. This ranges from hand holding to playful kisses to passionate kisses. When I saw Hisoka for the first time, I immediately thought he was a fuck boy. A fuck boy is a boy that is only interested in sleeping with someone and doesn’t intend on pursuing a relationship.

He’d take the pleasure of appreciating your presence as well as testing your patience. If you are shy and are easily flustered, he will change that. He’ll do things like kissing you, calling you affectionate names, or anything that will cause you to respond. You hit him jokingly. Still not getting the message, he continues and you hit him harder. This is where he releases a medium moan which causes everyone to look in your direction. You freeze; face flushed and he’s laughing his ass off.

“What’s the matter,” he asks, covering his mouth. “You look flushed~♥.”

“You’re doing too much. Stop playing around! People are staring~💯.” You cover the side of your face. True enough you were a little mortified but in a good way. You knew he did this because he liked you but sometimes he played too much.

This is when he pulls you closer to his face, your ear next to his mouth, and whispers something in your ear that sent chills down your spine that made you blush more than before. He nearly puckered his lips as he spoke. He took his index finger and thumb to caress your cheek.

“Raising your voice at me? That simply won’t do. Aren’t you aware of the consequences~♥?”

You knew better than to not say anything because he would cup your cheeks and pull you into a deep kiss, and wouldn’t let go until he was sure that everyone was looking.

Both of you enjoy red, white, and rose wine. To him, wine equals classiness and sophistication. After fighting each other for hours (which he considers training for you and exercise for him) drinking wine and watching Lifetime (television for idiots) is a great way to end the night.

NSFW

As stated above, I originally thought that Hisoka was a fuck boy, so I am going to roll with that thought. This man has the potential of being rough and if he is too rough this is the time where you can speak up and say so. He’ll listen to you. Similar to Chrollo, he can be very romantic if he wants to. The rose petals gimmick was played out.

Instead, he hides in the darkest part of the living room waiting for you.

You turn on the lights and immediately head to the kitchen to drink a bottle of ice-cold water. Summer nights in Yorknew were hot and humid, almost unbearable. It felt like you were being suffocated. Becoming impatient, Hisoka clears his throat loudly causing you to nearly jump out of your skin; choking on the water you were drinking. He released a sexy chuckle. When you turned around, there stood your chiseled buff boyfriend bare with a ribbon tied in various directions around his body. Your birthday was two days ago and he was your gift. Although you have seen him like this before, for some reason you were too flustered to make a move. He already knew that you were tired from work, so he carried you in his arms to the Exercise Room and laid you gently on the floor. You smiled as a rush or passion took over your body resulting in you tearing off the ribbon tightly wrapped around his body. Since this was your birthday gift, he made it a night you’d remember forever! Surprisingly, no roughhousing, just soft and gentle. This proves that Hisoka has the capability of being humane. His strokes were to your liking and the gazes that you both exchanged were mind-blowing. Why couldn’t he be this way all the time? After it all, you fell asleep at her quickly. You were on the floor but now on top of your king-sized bed, with the message control on high. He stayed awake, watching TV, and thought about how he was going to pick a fight with you at the crack of dawn.

Hisoka’s ability to flirt and send the intended person swooning is a talent of itself. Lots of people do not possess this talent. Sometimes it's intentional and sometimes it's not. He speaks softly and smoothly, are he has to do is ask and it shall be done.

Illumi SFW

Illumi gives the impression that he is a “quiet” freak. This means that true enough he is focused on his job but if the moment comes along he will give in. He isn’t into PDA at all and if he does feel like showing some affection it will be done in private. Even though he appears to be a zombie, laying on or even cuddling with his significant other will help him relax for once. Imagine having to complete many missions in a day, exhausted, and have a wonderful person waiting to act as a human pillow for your weary head. Even Illumi can’t resist that.

If he likes you and plans to marry you, he will make that known to everyone to avoid confusion. Illumi represents the stereotypical shy boy; he is anti-social, prefers to only be around people he knows and trusts, and carries out the duties of his job.

After everything has been completed for the day, he wouldn’t mind ( and secretly begs) for silent cuddles with his significant other and to just fall asleep. At this point, you are used to it so this is all you want and you are satisfied. When he does talk, it’s usually about something he found out from work that he knows should be kept quiet but he tells you anyway. Late nights are the time of day where Illumi vents for a few hours. The details of these vent sessions could range anywhere from “I wish you were there to see it” to “No, it would be too much”. As quiet and reserve as he is, his love is shown in a unique way that you have grown accustomed to.

NSFW

When the urge slaps him across the face like a sack of rocks, he cannot resist. Usually, he fights off the urge by exercising (mainly because you are out of the house or sleep) but this time he couldn’t shake it.

Before he gets started with anything, he styles his long hair in the shape of a bun so it doesn’t get in the way of action.

Although he is portrayed to be an emotionless zombie, he has some feeling deep inside him that he unleashes just for you. This is shown by gentle moist kisses being placed along your neck and once he reaches your shoulder that is when you wake up. Halfway through your sleepy eyes, you see a man with a devilish smile painted across his face. Who is this man? This couldn’t be your boyfriend. No way, no how.

Once he sees your sleepy smile, he just releases so many kisses that you throw the blanket off and he pulls you in closer.

Illumi will allow you both to switch the roles meaning he is in charge one time and you are on another day. Since you were still asleep, he decided to take on the role. He is surprisingly gentle in the beginning but as soon as it takes off, your ride him like a donkey. It ironic; he releases more noises than you! You have to remind him that noise travels! Great, you’re doing your job well! While it is important to take your job seriously, you need to have time to release that stress.

He uses his large eyes to stare into yours; you always found yourself lost in his gaze.

After it all, you lay back down waiting for your boyfriend to return from the kitchen. Illumi craves food like crazy after a good session. What’s better than donuts at 3 AM? COMFORT FOOD!!

These urges also come when you two are training together. Several times he’s had to guide you from behind on how to aim his needles. This time you noticed the packing of his pants which surprised you.

“Any questions,” he asked in a monotone voice.

“Yes. Why did you wear jogging pants? You’re giving yourself away.”

It was at this moment, he knew he fucked up. But let’s be honest, ok? He is standing behind the most beautiful person in the world, nostrils full of perfume, hair tied up, and has his left hand placed loosely on your thigh?! What was he thinking by wearing jogging pants when he was with you? He acted as if he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“You really don’t know?”

You kicked your backside out against him causing him to fall to the ground.

“Wow! Your legs are like jelly!”

“Why tease me,” He asked breaking out a small smile.

“You’re the one denying it.”

“Just get to it. I can’t wait any longer or else I’ll explode.”

The quiet ones are always the freakiest.

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that-one-shitty-fanfic-writer · 3 years

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Fashionable Discharge

Part 2 - Yandere Vil x Chubby Reader x ???

Warning: Strong Verbal Abuse

Proofread and Edited By (Discord) spyratical

Part 1 - Part 3

When Mr. Χάος proposed these "hangouts" (if you can even call them that), you did not imagine that each time you were invited over, the majority of the time would be spent in an awkward dead silence between the both of you. You sincerely make multiple attempts to make friendly conversation with the man, but with your lack of social skills and Vil's blunt answers, it made for poor exchanges. Whenever the hour was up, Vil would dismiss you, and you would call Mr. Χάος shortly after, whom would always be ready to pick you up at a moment's notice; it seemed that out all of your supposed guardians, Mr. Χάος is the one whom cares about you the most. As you would relay the events of said hour, he could tell that you're crestfallen with yourself.

Shortly after each session, Χάος would treat you to your favorite snack, and spend time with you afterwards; from taking you out to a new place to explore to simply making dinner at your place whilst you wallow in your emotions within the comfort of your own space, you simply said the word and Mr. Χάος would do his best to accommodate to your wishes. As professional as his job required him to be, especially as one of your parents' best advisers and legal consultants, Χάος always made time and put effort into caring for you, only with the best intentions in mind. He understood that with you coming of age, you would want to explore more of the outside world rather than the confined limitations of the studies your parents would allow your tutors to teach. With your inept social skills, he also understood that you needed a way to practice how to mingle with others who are not from the small circle of people your parents trust with the secrecy of your existence. Hence, how he came up with his offer for Vil; Vil, being your age, could serve as a familiar to converse with, and afterwards you could also go on small expeditions in the outside world, if you wished.

The only thing Χάος wished could go better would be Schoenheit's behavior towards the temporary arrangement. He expected this conduct to happen within the first two meetings but seeing the fifth meeting bear the same results as the previous ones, he couldn't help but feel weary.

Alas, today is a new day, and with that, the sixth meeting with Vil; you hold hope for a fresh start with your acquaintance. In all sincerity, with the given circumstances, you still could not care if the deal fell through, you just wish you will at least make a friend out of Schoenheit. To have a friendship outside of your limited circle, much less your age, would mean a lot to you, an amazing stride forward towards progress of becoming your own independent being. Much like Χάος, you too wished Vil would be more kind, you wish you could confide in someone from an outside perspective of your caged life and provide some words of comfort. However, with Vil still only giving you short responses and long silences, at this point the only thing that provided you with any sort of warmth was the tea you sipped.

That is until Vil finally was the first to break the silence, with a slip of venom.

"Why do you come here?"

Unprepared for the question, you ask him to repeat himself.

"Why do you come here?"

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand-"

"Why do you keep coming over? The past five meetings have all been reticent and a complete waste of time; yet here we are again, and nothing has changed."

The man is starting to become heated, and you know little to calm him down, "I'm sorry, Schoenheit, I don't mean to upset you. It's just that in the agreement-"

"To hell with that thing!" You jump, startled by Vil's fist coming down on the table at his interjection. "I never want to hear about that contract ever again, not when every other adult in my life is constantly nagging at me about the bloody thing!"

Your heart is in your throat, and you don't know what to say. "I-I'm sorry, Schoenheit, I didn't know that-"

"Did you ask your parents to make this arrangement?"

"What?"

"Don't think I didn't notice how you never spoke up against the engagement in the meeting!"

Your brain is pounding within your skull, and you don't know what to think. This isn't how this day was supposed to go.

"N-No, it's not-"

Yet the man still addresses you in disgust.

"Fucking Pervert. Wasting my time with what could be some semblance of peace and quiet for myself."

"..."

"Do you always do whatever your mommy and daddy tell you to do?"

Tears start to cascade down your cheeks freely, and your vision starts to blur. You couldn't argue against him at that moment, after all, that is what you have been doing with your life up to that point. "Please... stop."

"Of course, you still keep up formalities, even with a man whose face you still refuse to even look at and insults you to your fatty cheeks. Pathetic."

"Please... please..." Your pleads grow weaker as you fists clench tighter onto your being, hugging yourself; you feel helpless and weak. A small reminder goes off on Vil's phone, telling him to check the time. After leaving money for a toll phone in front of you, he stood up from his chair and begun to walk away.

"Times up… I'm done... Like I would ever want to marry the likes of you. Go call your lawyer, fat pig."

Once the clicking of shoes disappeared, you finally stood up and slowly started to step away from the scene. Steps turned into a walk, from walk to a jog, and naturally, jog turned into a run. None of this was supposed to happen, you were not supposed to be crying, you shouldn't be running away, Vil was not supposed to be so cruel. Yet it did happen, he was that cruel, and you're crying and running through the nearby forest as though your life depended on it. Perhaps your life did depend on it, seeing as you allowed thorns, twigs, and branches to scratch and claw at both your skin and clothes, all while running away from your current reality. It's only when you had tripped over an unearthed root that you came to a halt, crashing down onto the forest floor, whimpering for the putrid shame that overwhelmed you for your very being.

If only the ground could just break open and swallow you whole, then you wouldn't be in the predicament that was about to occur. If only you had called Mr. Χάος, like Schoenheit had told you to, then he wouldn't have heard the soft and distant thump of you hitting the ground. If only you could stop whimpering to yourself in self-hatred, then he wouldn't be able to follow the sounds of your soft weeps. If only you had obeyed direct orders one last time, then he wouldn't have found you.

"Oh goodness! Are you okay?" Through your blurred vision, you see the vague shape of a man with splashes of yellow and blue rushing over to you.

Trying your best to wipe away any tears, dirt, and grime, with a raspy voice and a heavy heart, you answer with, "I'm sorry... yes, I'm fine." Though with tattered clothes, bleeding scratches, and puffy wet eyes, it would be hard to convince anyone that it was true. Slowly helping you up to your feet, the stranger puts your arm around his shoulder and allows you to lean onto him for support as he leads you out of the forest and into safety.

As he begins to aid you at his place of residency, he questions as to what events occurred that led to him finding you so far away from the closest town. As he continued to press for reasons, the floodgates reopened and you recounted that day's events, though you did make sure to not bring up Vil by name, not wanting to tarnish his reputation even now. After the retelling of events, the stranger comforted you with genuine kindness, consoling you with lighthearted banter, getting you to feel mirth and relief, allowing you to welcome the distraction. Whilst exchanging pleasantries, you briefly brought up your desire for a friend, but just before you could move onto a different subject, the stranger asked, "How about we become friends?"

A twinge of guilt courses through you, afraid that you may have put him in a tight spot; you're quick to answer with, "No, you don't have to-"

"Sweetheart, please, I want to, truly!" Pulling out his phone, he's quick to unlock it and pop open an app. "C'mon, let me just add you on-"

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I don't have a social media presence."

"Well in that case, we can just start off by texting each other."

"I apologize, but I also don't own a phone."

"I guess I don't have any other choice..."

Feeling defeated once again, you lowered your head to hide revived tears, making themselves present at the brink of cascading, having already lost your first friend.

"I'm sorry-"

"We'll just have to visit one another as often as possible!"

"What-? I mean, you really don't-"

"Too late~ it's already set-in stone! Instead of going to meet that other man every two weeks, from now on, you'll visit me! In turn, whenever I get a chance, I'll go visit you, Chipmunk~!"

"Chipmunk?"

"Lots of people like to come up with nicknames for their friends as their bonds bring them closer. Since I'm going to be your first real friend, I figured that you would like to already have that kind of bond with me. Start out early so we can grow even closer as time moves on; plus, Chipmunk sounds like a cute and fitting nickname for you, doesn't it?"

Not willing to bite the only hand offering you any semblance of friendship, you nod in agreement instead of offering your discomfort on the matter. Was it normal for people in your generation to advance friendships so quickly?

"Great! Now, to commemorate our first milestone, let's take a picture together~!"

Quickly remembering your parents' rules regarding the public's knowledge of your existence being limited to what they would allow, you try to shut down the action, "I don't think that would be a good idea. I'm not really comfortable with putting myself out there all that much."

"Oh, don't worry! I won't share it with anyone, you can trust me, Chipmunk."

After some personal deliberation, with a light sigh, you situate yourself next to your new friend as he brings you closer with his hand on your shoulder. As the little timer starts to count down, he retorts a clever little joke that makes you genuinely laugh just at the nick of time of the photograph being taken.

"Thank you for becoming my friend-... I'm sorry, I don't think you ever told me your name."

"Oh right, where are my manners, I'm Neige LeBlanche."

#yandere vil #yandere x reader #yandere x chubby reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere vil x reader #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #yandere vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #chubby reader #yandere neige #neige leblanche #yandere neige leblanche #neige leblanche x reader #yandere neige leblanche x reader #yandere neige x reader

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ask-fantasy-sanders-sides · 3 years

Note

So, wait, toes Remus know that Virgil is a dragon too?? if he does, did Virgil tell him or did he just figure it out?

It wasn’t too long after their escape from the prison complex that Remus got irritated.

He didn’t regret dragging the strange assassin along — after all, Remus probably wouldn't have been able to escape without him — but he was getting more and more frustrated with his lack of response to...well, anything.

Remus has attempted more than once to scare and/or gross the stranger out with diatribes of gore and violence, but that hasn't phased him at all. Really, Remus thinks he probably should have expected that response from a dark-elven warrior, but it was a little jarring to have his usual monologues accepted with little more than a cursory glare. It didn't help that he had to speak to the soldier in the goblin language, which neither of them knew well enough to share many complex ideas.

Then, there were his rages. Remus wasn't really himself in that state, and he knew he was quite the sight to those who had never heard of a barbarian. He's pretty sure that if he had some foggy awareness of the assassin being disgusted or even mildly intrigued by his berserk mode, he would have remembered them. As it stands, nothing.

Then, there was his trump card: The first time Remus let out his true form and went berserk on a few guards, the assassin barely even noticed the difference. Remus dismissed it at the time, assuming they had just been busy doing their thing and hadn’t seen him do it. But, as they were sneaking away from the castle spires the next day and he had to dispose of some noble-looking witnesses, Remus definitely saw the assassin look at his wings.

Still he made absolutely no reaction! He doesn’t seem to react to much of anything, unless he’s being mad at Remus for yelling too loud or missing a swing. Admittedly, being able to spark annoyance in the stuck-up soldier is a little fun, but even his moments of anger are few and far between.

This is the first and only time someone has seen Remus’s kick-ass undead angel wings and not had a damn thing to say about it, and Remus can honestly say he hates it.

So, now that they’re finally outside of the Colony walls (and Remus doesn’t have to worry about the assassin chewing him out for making a scene,) Remus smirks deviously at the unsuspecting drow.

“Hey! Watch this,” Remus shouts, then closes his eyes to focus.

He reaches deep inside himself to connect with that boiling mass of discordant energy — a frothing core of divine light that’s spoiling rotten and necrotic, burning away the mold, healing, and then spoiling again, over and over with each beat of his two hearts. As he’s practiced ever since he was a child, Remus grabs that energy and pulls it out, dismissing a weight in his stomach that he hardly notices until it's time to let go.

The instinctual protective glamor that hides his true form dissolves in the firelight of his true essence, as bone-like angel wings, void-like eyes, and a tidal wave of smoke pour out of Remus like air from a popped balloon. A sickly green glow outlines his irises, his scars, and emblazons the emblem of a sword over his chest. He can feel it as the energy unfurls, how the world spins and sears into focus, how his senses grow sharp and breathing is suddenly so much easier than it’s ever been before. This is what he truly is, how he really looks, and it is a figure that strikes fear and awe in every creature who has the misfortune of seeing it.

All except one. Apparently.

The assassin simply stares at Remus, stone-still as Remus’s whole fucked up magical girl cutscene plays out point-blank in front of him. The fear-inducing necrotic gas rolls past the assassin's feet and into his lungs, but nothing happens. A few seconds pass, and he still hasn’t moved, but he’s clearly not gone into shock or anything of the kind.

Eventually, the assassin gets the impression that Remus is expecting a response. So, he cocks his hip out to one side and folds his arms, mimicking the facial expression that he’s gathered humans make when they’re confused: a pointed eyebrow raise.

(Given his usual glowering expression, it comes across more like sass.)

The minute passes, and though Remus feels the smoke dissipate and his eyes and scars return to normal with a sinking feeling in his gut, the wings remain. Instead of dismissing them, Remus throws his arms out wide with a growl,

“Seriously? That’s it? You’re not scared!”

“Scared?” The assassin parrots lowly.

A wide smile stretches across his lightly-freckled face. In the space of a blink he’s behind Remus, gently peeling the barbarian’s tattered shirt away to get a better look at the base of his wings.

He lays one ice-cold hand against the divot between them, touching him clinically, like he’s trying to figure out how solid Remus's wings are. His hand smooths gently across the stump where flesh gives way to semi-transparent bone before Remus's brain catches up. He shrieks and jumps away from him,

“What the shit are you doing?!” Remus squeaks, eyes wide as saucers. He would be more embarrassed by how absolutely unthreatening he sounds right now if he didn’t still feel the shape of that hand on him like a brand.

(He decides that this is more because of the supernatural nature of his wings, and not because Remus hasn't been touched that carefully by another person since he was like eleven. He doesn’t have time to unpack that feeling whatsoever.)

“You told me to look.” The assassin teases, openly laughing at Remus’s expense.

Then, — and Remus could swear he’s doing it slowly just to make sure Remus sees him — the soldier takes a deep exhale, and his purple eye flashes a soft glow. Suddenly, his body evaporates until he is a cloud of shadowy smoke. This smoke quickly blends in with the surrounding darkness of the cavern, and before Remus can get a word in edgewise, the assassin has re-solidified and is poking his back again.

“StoOOP TOuching me!” Remus yelps and spins around to face him, face red as blood and hands up in a defensive position, “Since when could you do that?!”

The assassin rolls his eyes at this, his hands falling to his sides. Now he takes a moment to think, before reaching down to untie his dagger belt and pull his tunic loose.

“What are you doing?” Remus protests louder, covering his eyes with his hands.

The assassin doesn’t respond.

Though he’s reciting curses in his head and trying very hard to respect this stranger’s privacy, Remus’s curiosity quickly gets the better of him.

He peeks out between his fingers to find the soldier shirtless, his white hair parted and pulled over his shoulders. He looks up at Remus with a completely unimpressed stare.

The assassin reaches out to grab one of Remus’s hands, then turns to show Remus his back.

Remus stares for a moment, eyes tracing the thin, ragged lines of a latticework of scars. They stretch across and around the assassin’s back, some older and some deeper. Most seem to have been inflicted by animals or monsters rather than weapons.

Remus feels no sense of pity at the display — he’s got his own patchwork of scars and his own complicated relationship to them, but over all he sees them more as a mark of survival, as stories to tell. But, he is definitely curious, and his mile-a-minute brain is already spinning outrageous tales to match each and every mark.

Then the assassin guides his hand up towards the top of his back, just alongside his spine. The skin there feels leathery, and significantly warmer than the skin of the elf’s hand, though the heat seems to be emanating from someplace lower on his spine. It’s also slightly off-color, a bit lighter than the skin around it. Whatever this is, this scar is old.

Remus traces the outline of it up, then off to the side as it tapers to a thin line between his shoulder and the base of his neck. The assassin’s ears twitch at the gesture, and Remus’s hand flinches away.

He turns to look at Remus over his shoulder, his neutral grimace returned.

“We are the same. Shadow and wings. You are kitrye'maelthra, right?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Remus frowns, always frustrated when the assassin sneaks an elven word or two into their rare conversations,

“I’m not super good at reading energies, but you don’t feel like an angel… You have wings??”

“No.” He frowns, his gaze becoming soft and distant, “Not anymore.”

“Oh.” Remus sighs, now reeling at the possibilities.

What sort of dark elf grows wings, and how can they be removed? He winces at the phantom pain to his own wings as he parcels through every guess. Did a monster tear them off? The scar was so smooth, it seemed more like they had been burned away with acid. Did he fall into the pit of a living ooze, or maybe it was a punishment from some cruel cultist—

“Yours are broken.” The assassin pries, still staring at him while Remus zoned out.

“Broken? No they're not!”

“You have no skin.” The assassin remarks, like that should have been obvious, “And you look like a ghost.”

“Wait, skin? Like a bat?” Remus laughs, imagining it. He shakes his head, “I’m not supposed to have skin! —Well, I mean, I am, but also feathers. Y’know, like a bird?”

“Bird?” The assassin repeats, like he doesn’t understand the word. He probably doesn’t, goddamn Underdark.

“...Ehh, forget about it. I’ll show you one when we get up there.” Remus shakes his head.

The assassin pulls his tunic back up and re-ties it. While he waits, a sudden thought knocks Remus out of his gruesome imaginings.

He thinks he probably shouldn’t ask, but it takes him all of three seconds to snap and say it anyway,

“Hey,” Remus hums offhandedly, like he’s not extremely invested in knowing the answer, “If you could ‘go ghost’ or whatever this whole time, why didn’t you just poof yourself out of that cell?”

(“And why did you stay to help me?” Remus refuses to add, because he is not that attached to his little stray-criminal monsterboy, goddamnit. He refuses.)

The assassin doesn’t answer or turn back to him, simply staring off in the direction of their path.

Remus huffs and rolls his eyes,

“Fine, damn, keep your secrets. Bet you just can’t hold it that long~”

“Don’t xhandal me, lotha mal'dhalaruk. Usstan orn da'urzotreth dosst et'zarreth.”

“Again, I do not know what the fuck that is.”

#lets roll #long post #long answer #janus's visions #tw violence mention #tw scars #hehe toes #ive stopped making the visions all in italics. its fun flavor but it makes them hard to read lol

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

Photo

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Charlie’s 5✩ Inspiration: Daytime Spiritualities [昼日疑魂] Date Translation (END 5: Heart-throb)

“Entrust me all your fears and astonishment alike; there’s no need to hold back.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Charlie’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *5✩ Inspirations have 5 Endings!! *CG Image used with permission from 蓝咕咕 ☆ *Charlie’s tag will be #For Night, For Paradox

✥ Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

How should I reply to him…?

★ E5 NIGHT: Nope★

As an adult well-versed in the horror genre, I was immune to horror movies for the most part.

MC: Of course not. We can bet on it if you don’t believe me.

Charlie: Stakes?

It appears that I had aroused his competitive spirit, for he smiled at me with interest.

MC: How about we bet on… who gets scared out of their wits first?

Charlie: Are you certain? I’ve never once lost a bet.

It was a gamble where the outcome was uncertain. The loser would be the first to lose their composure from fear.

There’s no way I’d admit defeat all so easily in the face of a show-off like Charlie!

MC: Absolutely!

Charlie: Interesting. I accept your challenge.

Charlie: You’re going to be the one losing your pride if you get so terrified afterwards that you can’t move.

Charlie: But, before we commence this bet… Aren’t you forgetting a little something?

MC: What do you mean?

Charlie: Where did you go this morning?

MC: The hospital.

Charlie: Think again. Before the hospital?

MC: Before…? Oh, right! I went out to buy snacks.

I jumped up, running to the door and rummaging through the bag of groceries I’d left there.

MC: What do you want to drink?

Charlie: Beer, like you.

I secured two cans of beer from the contents of the bag… Wait, no! What did he just say? He wants to drink BEER!?

I thought he didn’t drink? I mean, last time…

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During my last day off, Charlie had called me in the middle of one of my drinking moods.

Charlie: You’re drinking your sorrows away at home?

MC: I’m not drowning my sorrows in alcohol. I just felt like I was in the mood to drink; there’s an emotional appeal to it.

MC: Don’t you do the same when you go to bars?

Charlie: ...I do go to the bar, but I don't drink.

MC: ...Oh?

The rumoured star of the night who bombed a ton of money in private clubs is actually a “good boy”?

MC: How's that possible? You're lying, aren't you?

Charlie: Is it that odd to not drink?

MC: ...Not really.

Charlie: It's even odder to think that going to a bar equals drinking.

Charlie: Let’s just put it this way. The only reason why I go to bars is to play.

Charlie: And administering alcohol to the body is the greatest thing one can do to sully the living and perfect human brain.

Charlie: Especially this sort of low-quality alcohol made with fermented malt. 100g of the sweetened water called beer and its low molecular weight generates 180 joules of heat with your body.

Charlie: Drinking beer? Might as well swallow active bombs instead. At least, it’ll be much faster that way.

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So… Just what was going on here? It was one of the principles he lived by. Yet, he was doing a whole 180?

MC: Aren’t you afraid that ingesting alcohol will be an insult to that sober brain of yours?

Charlie: Didn’t someone say that drinking appeals to the mood?

Charlie: I'm with my Fiancée right now. Do you think I should retain a high level of reason, or show a rare moment of dullness?

MC: Do I have a choice?

Charlie: Of course not.

Charlie: Don’t worry. I won’t use the excuse of being inebriated to pull anything funny.

MC: ...Look who’s talking here?

Charlie: I can’t stand those sort of people.

Charlie took the can of beer from me before sitting back down.

Never mind; I'll gladly drop the topic. How can an adult not drink at all? Although, I bet his abstinence is probably so that it doesn't affect his job.

Click! Click!

The crisp sound of cans being opened sounded.

Never thought that he'd open it for me.

MC: Thank you, Dr. Zha!

I naturally held an outstretched hand out, waiting for him to pass me the open can of beer.

However, Charlie didn't react.

Click, click, clack…

The continuous sounds of cans clacking came from him.

I curiously peered over, only to find Charlie staring awkwardly at the cans with his brows furrowed. They were still as intact as they came.

MC: Charlie, don't tell me that not only have you never drunk alcohol, but you also don't know how to open cans…?

Charlie: You're questioning a doctor's practical ability?

MC: Then, you...

Pop!

Charlie had cracked the can open.

He freezes, frantically shoving the beer into my open hand. Then, he shoved his hands into his pockets, putting up a professional act.

Charlie: I have the habit of trimming my nails for surgeries, so it's not convenient for me to be opening cans.

For a moment, I didn't quite know what to say as I looked at our nails. They were nearly equally long.

He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t even know how to open a can. So why does he suddenly feel whimsical enough to start drinking today?

I cracked open his can of beer for him. He carefully wiped the foam that bubbled forth the mouth of the can with a tissue.

Charlie: Just now...

He took a sip of beer and slightly furrowed his brow.

Charlie: It was a mere mistake of a perfect person.

Charlie: It will not happen again.

Saying so, the glint of pride returned to his eyes once more. And the can of beer was quietly pushed far, far away.

MC: Okay, let's get back to watching the movie.

The paused screen lit back into action, encasing the room in a chilling and terrifying atmosphere once more.

The plot gradually thickened and I got increasingly absorbed with the movie.

Everything around me started to fade as I zoned into the movie, Charlie included.

Charlie: *Coughs*

MC: ……

Charlie: (Y/n).

MC: ……

Charlie: Are you really not scared?

MC: Stop moving.

All I could do was to use a free hand to keep Charlie in place as he fidgeted in his seat.

Charlie: ……

In the movie, the prisoner that was on death row managed to successfully escape into a cramped and narrow underground passageway. As muddy water splashed everywhere, the horrible cries of the jailer sounded from the other end of the door to the secret passage.

I'd given my entire self over to the movie at this point, watching the prisoner's every step with peeled eyes. I'd totally missed the faintest of all finger snaps in the world that'd sounded by the sofa.

Squeak…

The door to the entrance opened.

MC: Is the prisoner about to get caught?

However, the movie never cut scenes to show the jailer coming through the door. Still, I was fairly certain that I'd heard the sound of the door opening. And if had also been very clear.

Just as I was about to turn around to ask Charlie about it, I witnessed a bone-chillingly horrible scene…

The door the prisoner had closed suddenly opens. Sinister winds were brewing outside.

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MC: ……

MC: It should be a sealed-off corridor outside. There shouldn’t be any wind…

The more I thought about it, the more terrified I got. All I could see was the epitome of horror in this movie unfolding before my very eyes!

I felt a chill run down my spine; one different from anything I'd ever felt before, its icy tendrils spreading across my body. An alarm sounds in my heart. I was hyper-aware, with all my nerves strung tautly. It was as if any minuscule change in the surroundings would be able to set my senses off.

BANG!

A loud sound rang out in the air as the secret passageway’s metal door was knocked down. The jailer’s savage smile was reflected upside down in the pool of water by the prisoner’s feet.

MC: AH!

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I frantically covered my eyes, subconsciously backing away into the thing I was leaning against.

Crap! I had such a big reaction! He definitely noticed...

Alas, his low voice entered my ears.

Charlie: Scared now?

His warm and powerful arm snaked around me from behind, wrapping itself around me above the blanket.

My searching back hit his chest; and the moment it did, a small yearning for comfort started making itself known within my heart, growing ever more so… Just like a lost traveller who'd finally found the lone source of light deep inside the forest.

Charlie: Admitting defeat this quickly?

Charlie's warm breath brushes against the top of my head, making the shell of my ear burn. Just a little closer and my face would be able to access the crook of his neck.

MC: Am not.

I stubbornly refused to admit defeat, but my feeble voice, muffled by my hand, proved otherwise.

Charlie: If so, then why are you covering your eyes?

Charlie: You're the one who said we're going to be watching this together? Can't live up to your words now?

His chest rumbled slightly. There was undeniable mischievousness in his voice.

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Charlie: Last chance. I’ll count to three. Put your hand down, hm?

Charlie: Three.

MC: I’m not even closing my eyes! See!?

I vehemently glared at Charlie through the gaps of my fingers.

Charlie: Not counted. I don’t advocate such viewing methods.

Charlie: Two.

MC: ...What can you even do to me?

Charlie: You don’t want to admit defeat, but neither do you want to put your hand down. Is there ever a bet so kind in this world?

His bony left hand reached up to cover the back of my hand as he attempted to push my hand back down.

I struggled against him with all my might, but he was way too strong. Hence, I had no choice but to admit defeat in this losing battle.

MC: One. I lose!

Charlie lets up, dropping the strength he’d been putting behind his fingers and ruffling my hair.

Charlie: Why are your lips poised so high up? Mad?

Charlie: Losing to me is nothing to be ashamed about.

Charlie gathered up the blanket that pooled around my waist, inadvertently pulling me closer to him as he did.

I sulked and refused to reply to him. I can’t believe I still managed to get scared by a horror movie when I’m already a full-grown adult! Not only did I lose, but I also feel ridiculed by this!

Still, I didn't want to admit that Charlie's embrace certainly did provide me with a sense of comfort.

Charlie: There, there. Don't be scared. I'm here.

He gently pats the back of my hand, speaking softly in a manner one would comfort a child.

His warm chest pressed against my back as his steady heartbeat resonated alongside mine, beating in tandem.

MC: ……

In hindsight, I realized that I’d always felt at ease and that I could forget about all my troubles whenever I was with Charlie. Even though he never fails to render me speechless and makes me want to roll my eyes at him for the most part.

Maybe it’s because he’s always so frank about things with absolutely no intent to hide anything? I don’t know...

Leaning into Charlie’s embrace, my fear and panic slowly ebbed away.

However, the door still made me feel a little uneasy, and I often found myself looking at it with frazzled nerves.

Suddenly, I noticed something strange about the little tailor alarm clock by the door.

Its hour hand was pointed at 12. The small mechanical tailor that told the time had jumped out of the clock, bobbing as it frantically rolled its measuring tape back up. Yet… I did not hear any chimes from the clock itself.

MC: What's up with today?

MC: Please tell me it’s not an actual supernatural occurrence…

I was just about to ask Charlie about it when a far-fetched reasoning for this suddenly flashed through my mind.

And it ingrained itself in my brain upon appearance, growing ever stronger…

No sound, with only the motions… Why didn’t I think of this earlier?

MC: Charlie?

Charlie: Hm?

MC: Is there anything that can cancel out sound?

Charlie: Why do you ask?

He withdrew his hand and stuffed it back into his pocket. There was a sliver of wariness in his eyes.

MC: It just came to mind. Just answer me.

Charlie: Vacuum. Sound cannot travel without mediums, and there are no atoms or molecules in a vacuum.

MC: And isn’t that your talent?

Charlie: Y-Yes?

I was getting closer and closer to confirming my suspicions.

The door that had suddenly opened without a sound, and the soundless alarm clock. If there was a scientific reason to explain all of those, then it’d be…

Charlie had just created a vacuum inside the door. That way, the air difference in air pressure on the inside and the outside would be able to push the door open.

Pity; but the soundless alarm clock had given me enough hints to piece everything together.

MC: You purposely scared me so I'd admit defeat myself? Well done, Charlie.

The movie was currently showing the part where the jailer collided with the metal door.

Thud, thud, thud…

This sound was vaguely familiar. A sudden idea hits me.

I tugged on the corner of his clothes, purposely lowering my voice.

MC: Charlie, do you hear something?

MC: Thud, thud, thud. Like someone knocking on the door.

Charlie: Are you having auditory hallucinations now? That's coming from the movie.

He held my head with both hands, turning it left and right.

Charlie: You haven't gotten any water stuck in your ears either.

I directly put my finger to his lips and looked around warily.

MC: Not that. Listen carefully.

A distant but very real thud sounded above us.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie was so terrified that he'd started shaking as he looked up at the ceiling incredulously.

I took the chance to grab onto his arm, leaning sideways to get closer to him and whispered into his ear.

MC: Believe me now?

MC: Actually, I saw something by the door just now and…

Charlie: What! What’s by the door!?

He quickly shot up from the sofa, encasing me in the shadow cast by his tall and wide back.

The movie had been paused, stopping on the dark scene of the secret passageway. The door of my entryway was partially shrouded by the eerie lighting coming from the projector. The creepy atmosphere intensified.

Charlie silently stared into the darkness for a good ten seconds before letting out the breath he’d been holding.

Charlie: What can there be?

Charlie: If ghosts truly do exist in this world, then why would the world ever allow someone as perfect as me, someone, who goes against even the laws of nature, to exist?

The corners of his mouth were raised in their usual arc. Looks like he has already regained his spirits.

The only thing that betrayed the nervousness he felt deep down were his hands that had yet to crease trembling.

He placed both his hands into his pockets, putting on a calm facade as he surveyed the room…

He’s putting his hands into his pockets again? Does he like to do that whenever he feels nervous?

Charlie: Perhaps something fell upstairs. It’s just a coincidence…

He'd only just finished speaking when another thud sounded. This time, it was much more solid, the sound seemingly reverberating through the very air of my apartment.

All colour drained from Charlie's face. I hurriedly stood up.

MC: Do you hear that!?

Charlie: Yeah.

I hid behind Charlie, slowly putting my hand into his shirt pocket. I could feel the slight tremor of his shoulders through the thin fabric of his dress shirt.

Charlie: ...I certainly do hear something.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down more of his fear. He unwittingly attempted to put his hand back into his pocket… only for it to brush against my hand that had touched the cold beer earlier.

Charlie: AHHH! HELP ME!!

Charlie: SOMETHING’S HERE!

Charlie could no longer maintain his noble attitude. He jolted, frantically throwing his composed facade out of the window as he flung my hand away.

MC: It's me!

Charlie: You…

Charlie gripped onto my shoulder with one hand while the other went to his chest. His frantic breathing slowly eased back to a normal rhythm.

Maybe it’s about time I tell him about “that”?

MC: Actually…

MC: There was once a girl who'd been imprisoned here in this room. She died from starvation here. That's why you'll often hear the sound of the door being knocked in the middle of the night.

MC: I never thought that she'd make an appearance in the morning this time…

Charlie: You're joking, right!?

I shook my head with a pained smile.

I placed both hands on his shoulders as I reached higher. I cupped my hand and got close to his ear and purposefully lowered my voice.

MC: If everything was fine and well at my place, then why would I have to call you here to watch a movie with me?

MC: Don't tell me you're thinking of running…?

Thud!

A resounding thud suddenly rang out, shaking even the walls as it reverberated.

Charlie: AHHHH!!

Charlie lost all his composure, screaming shrilly as he dove for the loveseat. I lost my balance as my knees hit the loveseat.

Amidst the chaos, Charlie had wrapped his arms around my shoulders as we both tumbled into one of the corners of the loveseat.

Charlie's skin was flushed from all the adrenaline, his breaths coming out in short and ragged pants. He was akin to a laboratory mouse who had its amygdala stimulated, lying against my shoulder paralyzed in fright.

His shrill scream earlier still faintly resonated in the air, making my eardrums ring in protest. I could help but recall how confident of himself he looked back when he made the bet...

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Charlie: You’re going to be the one losing your pride if you get so terrified afterwards that you can’t move.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

MC: Pft- Hahaha! This is way too good!

I couldn't keep up the act anymore. I leaned my forehead against his as I snickered like mad.

MC: Okay, okay. I'm just pulling your leg!

Charlie: ...What?

Charlie: You're joking? But, you— I— Just now…?

Charlie raised his head, looking absolutely appalled. Having just had a tumble, a tuft of hair stuck out from the top of his head.

I grabbed the tuft of hair that stood arrogantly upwards and pushed it back down with a vengeance, smoothing it out in my revenge.

MC: Yeah! Who told you to scare me with your vacuum earlier!

I could acutely feel how his face immediately heated up against my shoulder. Is it because he just found out that I was tricking him? Or is it because of something else?

MC: So, can you get off me now?

Charlie: I refuse.

He simply buried his head into the crook of my neck shamelessly, avoiding my gaze.

Charlie: You'll have to first explain to me just what is going on here.

Charlie’s arms were snugly wound around my body, seemingly threatening not to let go until he’d attained what he wanted.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Is this man truly the same Dr. Zha that was listed on the leaflet detailing the famed doctors of the Hospital...?

MC: The hungry ghost was just a story I made up to scare you

Charlie: Uh-huh.

Charlie: But, just now…

MC: That was just the heating pipes.

MC: The grandpa upstairs turns the heating on at noon every day.

MC: It's going to be summer soon, yet he still keeps it up. Always at 12 sharp. The man's way more on point than the afternoon news broadcast.

Charlie raised his head, his sweat-soaked hair brushing across my cheek. It was a little ticklish.

Charlie: That's it?

MC: Yup!

Charlie: Ahem.

He sat back up, lightly clearing his throat before composing himself. Gone was the embarrassment from having lost his composure.

MC: Phew… You finally let up, huh.

He reflexively smooths out his collar. Soon, he returned to his usual self that you were all so familiar with.

Charlie snaps to attention with his hands behind his back, purposely looking around the room in an off-handed manner.

Charlie: Actually, I could already tell that something was wrong with the structure of this housing apartment the moment I stepped into it.

Charlie: Alas, it was just as I expected. The pipings are so terribly loud.

Charlie turned to look at me, slightly lowering his head and peering down at me in approval.

Charlie: Also, your acting is really good.

MC: ?

Charlie: Actually… I wasn't scared at all.

MC: ??

MC: If so, then may I ask what’s the whole purpose behind the fear that you so kindly expressed earlier?

Charlie: I was merely playing along with you. It’s the greatest form of acknowledgement towards your acting skills.

Just who is playing along with whom, in this case? Is this even up for discussion?

Still, I think his red ears speak louder than words.

Charlie returns to his seat on the loveseat. His familiar warmth envelops me once more.

Charlie: You still lost today.

MC: How did this come back to that?

Charlie: You're the one who got scared out of your wits first. You still have a penalty to serve, so...

Charlie: Comfort me.

He turned his head to the side as he hugged me. His cheeks were a rarely seen shade of red. He was flushed from the neck to the tip of his ears.

Looking at how embarrassed he was, I couldn’t help but find it a little adorable.

The heat in his embrace didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, it made a reassuring sense of familiarity slowly spread through my heart, like a warm summertime breeze blowing from the side.

I boldly nestled deeper into his arms, basking in the soft dream-like moment.

MC: How rare for you to be so quiet.

MC: Man, if only your first instinct wasn't to pick fights...

Charlie: Please, Miss. It's not like you don't enjoy it either. It'll be over soon enough.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The movie ends before we know it after the dazed silence that lapsed.

The projector stopped screening once the movie came to a close. The screen blanked out along with my guilt, panic, and fear.

And I’d completely missed the ending of the movie.

MC: Charlie? Do you remember how the prisoner who was sentenced to death got away?

I thought that Charlie would respond immediately in that prideful tone of his, giving me a clear and concise answer. Hell, I was even prepared to withstand another round of his narcissism if that ever came to pass.

Yet, he sounded a little unsteady and unsure, almost as if he too, was thinking of an appropriate answer.

Charlie: ...How did the prisoner getaway? Simple. He defeated the jailer who imprisoned him. All horror movies end the same way.

MC: He defeated… the jailer?

MC: The jailer here is a figment of his imagination; it doesn’t exist.

MC: The prisoner’s trapped in his own dream.

To prove what I’d said, I quickly pulled up the homepage of the movie where the summary and all the reviews were written. I pointed it out to him.

MC: Look, it’s even written in the movie’s summary…

I raised my head to clarify with him, but Charlie chose to completely ignore me, turning his attention to the plush pillow on the sofa. His eyes were very shifty.

Suspicious. VERY suspicious…

MC: Charlie, you… you didn’t take this movie seriously at all, did you?

Charlie closed his eyes in a slight grimace, his eyebrows knitting…

That reaction…. I KNEW IT.

However, he quickly bounces back from that moment of frustration. His expression suddenly turned serious and exaggeratedly grim.

Charlie: (Y/n), life is but a fleeting one.

The hell is this man talking about!?

I didn’t quite know why, but the serious tone he was taking with me sounded vaguely threatening. I could only nod in accordance.

Charlie: I see that you agree as well.

Charlie: If one wishes to have a glorious life as glamorous as the sun in this fleeting period, then some trivialities will have to be forgone.

Charlie: Alas, that movie earlier was an unfortunate one to have been forgone by this perfect life of mine.

MC: ……

MC: I see. I never knew that there was such a poetic way of saying “I don’t remember”.

Charlie: Who says I don't remember?

Charlie: I remember as clear as the day how my Fiancée got so terrified that she burrowed right into my arms.

I helplessly sighed. Looks like it'll be a long time and a good long way before I'll ever manage to understand how that brain of his works.

MC: Then, does the matter of rating and evaluating this projector still exist in your precious time of existence, Dr. Zha?

Charlie: The projector? Average.

Charlie: It's hard for me to be evaluating a projector below $200,000.

Charlie: But, I can consider using it as a console for couples.

He raised an eyebrow, smiling.

MC: And just where are your thoughts running off to?

Charlie: I'm just giving my honest, unbiased opinion.

Charlie: I hope you can convey this precious review of mine to the brand makers. Consider it my good deed for the day.

MC: Alright, Mr. Charitable.

MC: Now, are you quite done with your charitable acts? I'm going to pack the projector up and send it back.

Charlie: Why?

MC: Because… I feel like I don't really need a home theatre.

Charlie stilled my hand with his own, moving to block the projector off from me.

Charlie: Wait. I’ll take it if you can’t find a use for it.

Charlie: Send it to my house next weekend.

MC: You sure about that?

Charlie: Of course, I naturally have the right to accept any common personal property that my Fiancée chooses to give up.

Charlie: Come to my house next week, and don't stand me up.

With that being said, he confidently walked out of the apartment.

The golden sports car parked by the road gave a tremendous roar as it sped up. It soon faded away, replaced by the ever-present bustle of the people on the streets

Watching the silhouette of the car gradually disappear, the events of what had gone on within my apartment resurfaced to the forefront of my mind… Charlie was far more bizarre than any horror film I'd ever watched.

However, it’s as if his appearance was slowly lowering my impenetrable guard over my small piece of land.

Now, as for what will appear in the future… Will it be volcanos? Or channels? Who knows; we’ll just have to wait and see.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ★Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Paradox⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: Prologue

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #查理苏 #Charlie #For Night For Paradox #昼日疑魂 #Daytime Spiritualities

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nctsworld · 4 years

Text

couldn’t be better

✩ mark x reader | fluff | campfire au | 1.2k

→ summary: you and mark hang out with the boys in johnny’s backyard during one evening. → warnings: none - pure fluff as sweet as marshmallows! → rating: general

→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

With his guitar in tow strapped around his body, Mark’s fingers are daintily hooked with yours as he leads you into Johnny’s backyard through the side of his house. You’ve been there a couple times, but you’re always taken aback every time at the picturesque sight that could be straight from a magazine.

The landscape is one thing to notice; colourful assorted flowers are sprinkled everywhere in the midst of the thick greenery of bushes and trees. However, what draws the attention of most is the large covered pergola encircled by dim, small light bulbs. Underneath the pergola lies enough comfortable cushioned seats and matching side tables for a sizable party, fitting for the many friends Johnny has. And in the middle of everything, a campfire blazes brightly in the circular fire pit, warmly welcoming all who enter.

The host formally greets both of you with a hug, albeit more of a side hug since Mark’s guitar interferes, while you’re holding bags full with snacks to share and take-out dinner for the both of you. More greetings are exchanged with Johnny and Mark’s closest friends already seated around the fire before the host gestures with a nod for you to sit in one of the loveseats. You oblige and Mark places the guitar next to the furniture, while you’re filling in the space next to him and setting the food and snacks out on one of the tables.

Dinner begins immediately as the rest of the guests trickle in and fill the seats surrounding the fire pit. Main courses are inhaled quickly and when you and Mark finish your meals, he eases into his normal routine. Arm slung over you casually, mindlessly drawing circles and lines on your thigh, playing with the tips of your fingers, and the like. Although you’re not always conscious of his every touch, you nevertheless relax into them and reciprocate if possible. Soon enough, Johnny’s handing out long skewers alongside an extra-sized pack of marshmallows being circulated.

Beginning to roast your respective marshmallows, you lay your head on Mark’s shoulder, gaze focused on the dancing flames heating the sweet treat. Unaware, you don’t see the little smile Mark flashes downwards to you, adoring how precious you are. Your boyfriend plants a tender kiss upon your head. In response, you break away momentarily to link an arm through his and rest your head back upon him, snuggling close.

Just as the fluffy sweetmeats are smoked to your taste, you ensure to blow on them before consumption. Despite how you’re still blowing yours, Mark suddenly holds his marshmallow between in fingers in front of your face. Your eyebrows ruffle as you glance up at him, unsure why he’s offering his.

“Mine’s cooled down already,” he mutters close to your face over the crackling embers and vibrant voices. Without hesitation, you open your mouth and Mark plops it in.

“Is it good?’ Mark giggles at the sight of you nodding, chewing, and humming with a full cheek. His hands then reach for yours holding the skewer and drags it closer to his face, continuing to cool your marshmallow on your behalf. Once done, he gestures it towards you. Your fingers gently pluck it off and like what Mark did moments ago, you drop it into his mouth, but he abruptly makes an O with his mouth.

“Are you okay?” You sit straight up, unsure what was up with him. Realization dawns on you as he begins to fan his mouth.

“It’sh shtill hot,” he manages to say. You offer him his drink, but he declines, not wanting to ruin the sweetness. Shaking your head with a laugh, you run a hand through his hair and pet him lovingly.

Darker shades of blue fade over the night sky while marshmallows and skewers are traded for Mark and his guitar. Songs vary in genres and moods, but regardless, everyone who knows the words to whichever song Mark plays sings along. At times it’s discordant with laughter and exaggerating notes, but there are times when people harmonize as a canorous choir. The stars aren’t quite out yet, but stars could be seen glittering in your eyes, marvelling at your beloved’s natural inclination with music and singing.

After some time, Mark passes the guitar over to Taeil and finds his hip glued with yours again. You whisper affectionate compliments in his ear prior to your lips meeting his cheek, while he thanks you and wraps an arm that encompasses your waist.

Stars finally engulf the sky and since it’s near the end of summer, the wind rises with a slight bite. Mark catches on quick, knowing you like the back of his hand, when it’s becoming too cold for you. Without a word, he takes off his plaid button-up and places it atop your shoulders, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.

A few moments pass before he whispers into your ear that he’ll be back. You yearn for his body warmth the second he leaves your side. As a close replacement, you move closer to the flames and rub your hands.

You observe Mark heading towards Johnny, interrupting his conversation, then your love makes a bee line into the host’s house. He heads back out with a thick blanket in his arms. You two are tucked underneath in seconds and thanks are given.

“You know I got you,” he replies. Even with the blanket, you can feel the goosebumps on his bare arms since he was only wearing a t-shirt underneath his button-up.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

He nods, dismissing your compassion. “Gotta keep my girl happy, don’t you worry about me.”

A wink follows, and it warms you more than the fire ever could.

The conversations all about have veered to topics that you and Mark aren’t as invested in, so you and him are left in your own bubble. Sharing the occasional meme on your phone. Talking about the dazzling constellations. Comparing each other’s hand sizes.

Across the fire, Johnny notices you lovebirds off in another world away from the party. The contrast between you two and the fire, the soft lighting, and the night sky make for a gorgeous moment, so he rushes to grab his camera next to him and snaps a picture.

“So,” Johnny speaks up, words cutting through the fire and popping the bubble you’re both in. “What’s it like being the oh, so picture perfect couple?”

Everyone’s conversations die down, shocked at Johnny’s loud inquiry and intrigued since you both haven’t really spoken up much during the evening. Eyes are on you and your love. You face each other as if on reflex, appreciating each other’s features for a silent moment.

You watch Mark’s eyes sparkle, reflecting the strong blaze, which compliment his saccharine grin.

Mark loves how you glow brighter than anything he’s ever seen before, and the way he feels at home whenever he’s with you.

“It’s pretty good. You?” Mark raises an eyebrow, still keeping his stare on you.

You nod, matching his steady gaze.

“Couldn’t be better.”

As Mark reaches in and cusps your cheek to share a kiss, fake gags, wolf whistles, and lengthy oh’s erupt in the background along with a “Get a room!” from Haechan.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #nct #nctcreations #nct imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark x reader #mywritings #myfanfics

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ready-to-obeyme · 3 years

Text

starlight (Lucifer/MC)

For @dazatsu for the Obey Me Secret Santa for 2020. I hope this fic of mine makes you smile at least once! :) I loved thinking up of the prompt for your secret santa, so I hope I did your aesthetics and preferences justice! I tried including both of your faves and ended up focusing on one.

Feel free to message me on discord or on my personal @epiphyllous.

Happy Holidays! :)

Summary: It’s been a few days or so since you’ve returned to the human world to attend your university classes. Missing you, Lucifer decides to give you a visit, (with Belphie tagging along) hopefully without being seen, just to check up on you.

Or so he planned. He never could have anticipated how much he actually misses you.

notes: gn!reader, College Student MC, sfw, (sorta) established relationship, pining

Be patient, Lucifer tells himself. One semester: four months, or even better, fifteen weeks. Lucifer would never admit it to anyone else, but he counts the days until you come back to the House of Lamentations, occupy the room that is now too quiet for comfort, and sit at your seat at the dining table and laugh with all of them again.

The first week after you leave to attend university classes, he keeps his brothers in line, making sure they keep on going to RAD classes instead of spending the entire day moping over your absence. Not that he didn’t miss you, because, of course, he did. At the best of times you were like a buoy in a stormy night, and at others, you were a comforting presence at his side who taught him how to laugh again.

But you had promised to come back, and he had promised that they would be waiting for you when you did. Lucifer prides himself on control, so in control he would be.

Or so he would have been if he had not already planned to ‘check-up’ on you in the human world at the end of this week.

(He tries not to think about the fact he has caved in only one week after you’ve been gone, but demons are weak to temptation-- so he forgives himself, just this once, because it is to see you.)

To anyone else, especially his brothers, he’s visiting the human realm to take care of human exchange student documents. Only Diavolo, and Barbatos by association, knows why he’s actually settling the last piece of his paperwork prior to his trip. Diavolo had only given him a wide smile, but he is embarrassed to be so evidently transparent to his old friend. (It would have been even more embarrassing had Barbatos had been there to receive the news, so Lucifer is thankful for that at least.)

With everything in order, his brothers threatened to do well in class while he was gone and too distracted to notice the real reason he’s so eagerly planning a trip away, Lucifer heads out the door.

Belphie is waiting for him in the doorway.

“You aren’t planning to go by yourself, are you?” Belphie says with a leisurely smile, and Lucifer can only sigh.

“Oh, sorry-- er, Pro-Professor…”

Lucifer watches as another student meekly ducks past him, skittering away with their head ducked low until they merge with their group. He can hear snippets of what they’re saying, and he isn’t sure what to think when all the comments have been on his attire. It didn’t dawn on him when he first walked onto campus grounds with Belphie in tow, but with the glances he’s been given and the attention he’s been garnering despite his attempts to stay hidden, he realizes how strange his outfit must be when compared to the rest of the population.

He sighs and crosses his leg on the wooden bench they’ve perched themselves on, turning towards his youngest brother when he hears him laugh. Belphie gives him a sleepy smile that does not hide any of the amusement behind it. “Those people think you’re a cosplayer,” he says to Lucifer, pointing to a group of students who were looking at the two of them. “From an anime about vampires or butlers.”

Lucifer looks down at his fur-collared coat on his shoulders and gives it a slight tug. “Ah, I suppose the coat is a little bit ill-suited for the weather, isn’t it?” He huffs when Belphie gives him a deadpan. “I jest, Belphie,” he says, crossing his arms (regally, in a way that only convinces everyone who watched him that he was playing in-character). “I understand clearly now that my ‘casual’ attire is not the norm for this university campus.”

“Or any other campus,” Belphie mutters. “People have been saying your vest makes you look like you part-time at Olive Garden… wherever that is. You should have just dressed like me today.” And Lucifer cannot argue with that sentiment, considering how well Belphie fits in with the university atmosphere and environment with his long jacket worn over his tee. If he ignores the comments on his own attire, Lucifer can hear the whispers of awe and even admiration at the cow-printed pillow that Belphie has brought along with him today to ‘comfortably sleep in class while he waits for you,’ or so he has explained to Lucifer.

“I’m not sure how I would pull off the university-look you so excel at,” Lucifer says exasperatedly. “I doubt it would…” Just as quickly as he cut his sentence off, Lucifer jumps to his feet, quickly dragging Belphie by the pillow (much to his complaints) to hide behind a particularly bushy shrub.

“Ugh, let go of my pillow, you’re going to stretch it out--”

“Shh, be quiet,” Lucifer snaps, glaring at his brother who only stubbornly looks back. “I’d rather not be caught sneaking around on campus when we’re not supposed to.”

“Wait, what? Aren’t we here to see them?” Belphie retorts, “Isn’t this the whole point? Wait, unless…”

Lucifer can feel the tell-tale heat on his ears as warnings of an oncoming blush and wills it away with a scowl, daring Belphie to finish his thought. As expected from his free-spirited and equally willful brother, Belphie does anyway.

“You didn’t tell MC you were coming, did you?” Belphie says, and as much as Lucifer is happy to have such a cunning brother, he wished Belphie were otherwise at the moment. “That’s why we’ve been hiding around trying to find them rather than just having them ditch class--”

“I would not make them ditch class--”

“--and spend time with us.” Belphie pauses. “Why didn’t you just tell them we were coming?”

In the corner of his eyes, Lucifer sees you walk down the crackling pavement-- backpack on your shoulders, skin a healthy glow (thank Diavolo), and eyes as bright as ever-- and Lucifer’s thoughts trail to a stop. His gaze follows you as you walk past them without notice, and he thinks to himself that a human like you truly does belong to a place with the sun, because you are as radiant as starlight.

Lucifer looks back towards Belphie who had fallen silent, only to fight back another bout of embarrassment as Belphie stares back at him with a knowing, mischievous gleam.

“Let’s grab a seat in their class,” Belphie says, standing up easily and walking the same direction Lucifer watched you disappear into. Just when Lucifer thinks the gleam is only from the sun, Belphie continues, his voice dripping with saccharine, “Just so you can watch them a little more closely.”

Lucifer sighs, less inclined to argue when they have little time to catch up with you. (Though even if he did have time, there was not much to say when nothing Belphie said was wrong.)

Looking back at the conversation now, Lucifer wishes he did argue, just a little, because maybe then he would feel better upon watching in horror as Belphie sleeps beside him in class only five minutes into lecture.

After following you, they had picked inconspicuous seats in the back row of the lecture hall (with these tiny, little tables-- Lucifer doesn’t understand how anyone could write on these), hoping to remain unseen by you who sat a few rows up in the middle. Based off the scattered, quiet laughter that surrounds them, Lucifer thinks that their choice in seats was a moot point now.

“Belphie. Belphie,” Lucifer hisses, nudging his brother’s leg in hopes of stirring him awake. “Lecture just began. How are you asleep already?”

“S’fine,” Belphie mumbles, waving a flippant hand. “We don’t even take this class.”

From behind them, Lucifer hears someone quietly whisper ‘legend’, and it takes everything in him to not bury his face into his hands and make themselves even more noticeable. He sighs, but regardless, he looks forward, spotting the back of your head almost immediately in a sea of students. Ever so often, he would see your head dip down to look at your laptop and up again to read the slides that were presented. The movement is repetitive, most likely reminiscent to how you would also be in a Devildom RAD class, but for some reason, watching you focus and intently study in your university classes makes it very evident how often he finds himself proud of you.

And he almost feels guilty for following you on campus. After all, he did make a promise to be there when you came back after waiting patiently for you, and it was not as if you left happily. If anything, you had hoped to stay-- but your future awaits, and so you promised to work hard to get back to them as soon as possible. Perhaps he should keep to the promise you had made to each other-- oh.

Lucifer watches as you lean down to rummage through your backpack, and he almost feels his heart stop when he sees your D.D.D in your hand. Your fingers scroll through something: Past texts? Your gallery, perhaps? Regardless of what the reason is, Lucifer feels something warm spread within his chest as he thinks that maybe you had missed them (hopefully even him?) just as much as they missed you.

What he does not expect is to have his phone vibrate with a text from you.

>> Are you busy right now?

Lucifer is thankful that Belphie is asleep because he does not see the way Lucifer fumbles to get his D.D.D out and text with his heart at his throat.

<< Not at the moment.

He pauses.

<< Is something the matter?

The response is quick.

>> No, nothing is wrong!

>> I’m just in class right now and ngl it’s kind of boring.

Lucifer buries his chuckle into his fist.

<< And here I thought you had an emergency.

>> :crying emoji: This IS an emergency. I’m DYING

>> of BOREDOM

>> Save me, Lucifer!!

<< I will not be an accomplice to distracting you during class.

He’s already enabling you by responding, so it’s not exactly the truth, he admits. But he does like the way you tilt your head as you are wont to do when you find something amusing.

>> Darn, okay I tried

>> I just

Lucifer watches as the text bubbles stay on screen, and he waits for your upcoming message when the people around them stand up, putting their laptops into their backpacks at the end of the lecture.

>> I miss you guys

He looks up to see you standing up, D.D.D. in hand, head down and fingers still over the screen. After a moment, you type something else and lock the phone, putting it into your backpack before heading down the aisle to leave the class.

Your last few messages pop up.

>> Class just ended so I’ll have to go study at the library but

>> I just wanted to say I really miss you

>> Hope you’re doing well

>> Love you.

“What are you waiting for?”

Lucifer turns toward Belphie, whose violet eyes are still bleary from sleep but whose words are as clear and succinct as ever. He yawns before continuing, “Go after them. Let me know when their classes are done so we can actually do something together.”

At this, Lucifer feels his gaze soften. “Yes, I’ll let you know,” he says, standing up and walking down the path to the door. “And, ah, Belphie…” He waits until his youngest brother looks up from his pillow before telling him with a small, wry smile, “Be sure not to get locked inside the classroom when all the lectures finish.”

After a few mishaps, Lucifer manages to ask for the directions to the library most commonly used by the student body. The first few times he tried, his language was too formal for anyone to truly believe he was asking for direction. “Who are you cosplaying? Can I take a picture with you?” was thrown at him numerous times. “Am I being pranked right now? Are you a youtuber?” was also asked at him twice-- which was not often, but it was strange that it happened that many times.

Eventually, someone had, after watching him cross his arms indignantly, given him the instructions to the library. It was only when he was walking up the steps to the building that he thought that everything would have gone much faster if he had only demanded directions and hypnotized a random student into telling him. But he imagined that if you ever found out, you would not be pleased, and that-- if anything-- was the one reason why he resisted the urge to.

Lucifer walks into the air-conditioned building and searches for you. It does not take him long until he sees you, sitting at one of the desks in the library, laying your head on your arms, fast asleep.

It is around three in the afternoon, the sunshine filters through the ceiling windows and scatters across your desk, showering you in a flurry of light, and Lucifer thinks he was a fool to ever think he could bear to not see you for a moment longer.

The seat beside you is open, so he sits there, watching the moving sunlight dance across the hand you placed near your face. Your chest rises and falls evenly, and for a moment, you clench your hands but do not wake, seeming to dream of holding onto something instead. It takes all the self-control Lucifer could muster to not take your hand in his. Instead, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, careful not to let it fall off, and watches as students filter in and out of the library in the hustle of academic life.

Lucifer isn’t sure how long he waited, surrounded by tall shelves of books and aisles of encyclopedias, but you start to stir, waking up and wincing at the sun in your eyes in a way that has him smiling in amusement. You first grab onto the jacket that had started to fall off your shoulders, and upon realizing that it did not belong to you, you look up to see Lucifer, smiling fondly.

“Lucifer?”

Lucifer can feel the side of his eyes crinkle at the sound of your voice still raspy from sleep. He sweeps away the lint on your shoulder as you sleepily gather up his jacket into your lap. “Whatever happened to ‘studying in the library’ as you told me?” He says teasingly, smile widening when you fluster and laugh nervously.

“I-- you know… I was taking a break and,” you start to say, pausing only to look at him accusingly, much to his amusement. “Wait, forget about that! How are you here? Why are you here?”

“I’m the vice-president of the student council-- I’m able to be wherever I please,” he tells you, and you huff at how smug he sounds. “As for why I’m here, it’s to check up on one of our human exchange students, of course… is what I would say.” Lucifer leans forward and gently caresses your cheek with his thumb, unable to push the affection that bubbles forth as he sees your hand press over his. “But I also just wanted to see you.”

Lucifer hears a cough from behind him and feels heat rushing into his cheeks at the (quite frankly) polite reminder that he was in a public space. He retracts his gloved hand and clears his throat, hoping that the moment is enough to clear away the pink that has undoubtedly found its way onto his face. He expects you to tease him, as you often do whenever you have the chance. When it does not come, he glances back to you, only to feel his heart squeeze at the way you look at him: your eyes softened, lips upturned gently, and gaze adoring in a way that made it seem like you believed he had hung the stars.

(If there were any more ‘coughing’ to remind Lucifer that they were, in fact, still in the library instead of their own world, neither of you take notice.)

“I missed you too,” you say, summing up his feelings in the simplest way that only you could do. You take his hand into yours and gently sway it back and forth. “Thank you for coming to visit me.”

It had been a good idea, after all, he thinks, to indulge himself for once and come see you if it meant he could hold your hand like this again. “Belphie was hoping you would give us a tour of your university,” Lucifer says softly, sweeping his thumb over your hand. “If you were done with classes.”

He feels you squeeze his hand in response to his affection, and his heart soars even as he listens to you speak. “Belphie is here?” You ask, surprised. When he nods in confirmation, you laugh. “Did he catch you when you were leaving or something? Threaten to tell your brothers if you didn’t take him along?”

Lucifer doesn’t answer you, preferring to huff instead, though he can’t deny that he is pleased that you can know his brothers’ behavior well enough to hit it right on the money. “He opted to sleep in the last lecture hall you were in rather than go on the wild goose chase I had to find this library. Is nobody at your university unable to fathom that someone would wear something slightly more formal to class?”

“Yup,” you reply easily, grinning at him. “But it’s okay, I like your outfit. It’s very you.” You pause. “Also, we can always go shopping later, though, so people can stop staring at you. And also to buy some souvenirs for your brothers!” Your eyes brighten as you think, and his heart melts at the fact that his brothers are in your thoughts. (For as much as he wants to have your attention, he finds that the love you can give to his brothers is as equally enjoyable to witness.)

You hum thoughtfully, “I think Beel might appreciate some food from this new restaurant that opened up last week. Maybe Levi would like something from the cute Japanese store down the road? Oh, and face masks for Asmo!”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy with anything you purchase for them,” Lucifer says, making you look up at him with a smile. And he wants to reach out to cup your face again.

Ring ring!

The both of you glance at your phone when it plays a tune, and as quickly as the alarm goes off, your hand is there to turn it off. Lucifer looks at you questioningly before you sigh. “I have class in about ten minutes,” you say apologetically.

“Is that so?” Lucifer says, standing up from his seat. “Then I shall accompany you.” He extends a hand in askance for his jacket, only to give a huff of laughter when you only stare at him incredulously. “Is it that much of a surprise that I would like to escort you to your classes? Unless, of course, you would prefer me not to--”

“No!” You duck your head down, looking around quickly, much to Lucifer’s amusement, before lowering your volume. ‘No, I mean,” you fluster, “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Oh, how Lucifer wants to press a kiss to your forehead, but to save you (and himself, though he thinks he no longer has anything to lose) the embarrassment, he settles for easy laughter as he wraps his jacket around himself. You follow after him, pushing in your chair and lugging up your backpack, your laptop securely inside.

“Shall we go then?” he asks, holding out an elbow for you to hook your arms with his. When you slide yourself close to him and walk down the steps outside the library, he realizes that this is the many things he has missed since you've been gone. Your hand is a comfortable presence on his arm and your footsteps are aligned with his as you walk in tandem to your next class. He briefly thinks about his brothers, most particularly how Mammon would bluster about their proximity, or how one of the romance novels Satan would have described this very situation he was in: walking alongside someone dear to him on a campus that does not seem as big when you are together.

Your hand squeezes his arm gently before you guide him through hallways and pathways. When a crowd of students bustles past them at the end of lecture, he feels you inch closer to him.

“It’s a lecture hall, not a discussion class,” you start to tell him, much to his confusion. You laugh. “They won’t notice you’re not part of the class, so you can sit next to me.” You lower your hand and take his hand in yours.

Lucifer squeezes your hand comfortingly as the last of the previous class files out. “Try not to be too distracted by my presence,” he comments and cannot help the upturn of his lips when you shoot him a withering look he does not have to see to know it has no heat behind it.

Among other glances and subtle affection that you provide him the rest of the day convinces him fully that there has never been a better decision than to visit you. When the two of you finally meet up with Belphie, who had been asleep on a nearby bench, the night is spent out following you as you guide them around campus and at the nearest hub of entertainment.

In the end, you do collect enough gifts for all his brothers, even sneaking a small present into his hands with a sly smile on your face.

And when he returns to the Devildom after a long, long farewell where no one wanted to leave, he provides his brothers with their souvenirs (after they stopped complaining to him about going off to the human world with only Belphie). He tugs off the coat that now lingers with your scent and places the gift you had purchased him onto his desk-- a little trinket that he can now look at and remind himself of you, with eyes of starlight and laughter as warm as the sun.

He thinks of the last message that you sent him and sends you a response.

<< I love you too.

<< Until next time.

#happy holidays!! i hope you like the fic!#ObeyMeSecretSanta2020 #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #lucifer/mc #fasdfksafdhaskjfd surprise i am alive

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theres-no-protocol-for-this · 3 years

Text

Inevitable

Years in the future, Dr. Mensah has grown old and tired. SecUnits aren't meant to survive this long, but of course, this SecUnit has persevered and grown in the intervening years. And like all people, it comes time to say goodbye.

Trigger warnings: mentions of death, grief, and ownership of people.

ART offered me video clips of the funeral, which I frankly didn’t need.

Mensah and I had met a few days prior. She’d been at home on the family farm, seated in her favorite armchair, and the silence told its own story. As if the whole place was holding its breath.

“Come, sit down,” she offered, patting the chair next to her.

I did as I was asked. What else could I do? My drones stayed behind in the entryway, settling into a kind of perimeter (a habit that had served me well over the cycles). For what came next, I needed my own eyes.

“How have you been?” the elderly woman asked, her gaze focused somewhere on the wall past my right shoulder.

ART and I had just come back from a rescue mission in the Corporation Rim. We were mostly all right; nothing the MedSystem hadn’t been able to fix. I had a feeling she wasn’t asking me about the trip.

“Fine.” I looked at her.

Mensah’s smile was weary, and there were more wrinkles around her dark eyes. I could compare images, but it wasn’t necessary. I knew that this was… an end.

I could feel ART hovering in the feed, suddenly rendered silent. Probably running calculations because it knew inevitability just as well as I did. Probably even better.

“Liar,” Mensah said.

I nodded. “Yeah, OK.”

“Amena will be here in a couple of minutes, and we can get this over with,” she told me.

This was the transfer of guardianship from Dr. Mensah to her oldest child. It was… a formality at best. No one on Preservation thought I — or any of the other constructs that lived on the planet — needed or wanted guardians. But, the others had come later, after the rules had changed. I was the last construct with a guardian.

Would always be the last one.

I didn’t have anything to say and felt no urge to fill the silence with words. Around Mensah, I didn’t need to pretend to be human; being myself was usually enough.

“Once I’m gone, you can petition the council,” she added, and her voice trailed off.

I shrugged. What did it matter at this point?

“You’ll be alright, SecUnit.”

“Murderbot.”

She smiled at me and for a moment, she looked much as she had so many cycles ago, ageless and unstoppable. “I thought you might never admit to your name.” And then, the weariness returned. “I always wanted to see you happy. From the moment I saw you in that forsaken cubicle.”

The silence that followed was broken by laughter and a child’s voice. “Grandma!”

Sasha was all of four, and Amena’s youngest daughter. The bravest of her siblings, she took many things in stride. Right then, she launched herself at her grandmother, short curly hair bouncing with every step.

Amena followed her inside a moment later. Grown now, she looked a lot like her mother, strong and kind and unbreakable. Even though I knew better. She’d become a solicitor, and had largely taken over Pin-Lee’s job in the last few years. ART and I sent newly-freed constructs to speak with her when the time came.

“Second Mom,” Amena said softly in greeting. “SecUnit.”

I could see that she’d been crying, but she was hiding it now behind a mask of stoic acceptance. I could sympathize. SecUnits can’t cry, but I had some inkling of what she was feeling.

They talked for a moment longer, mother and daughter, while the little girl nestled in her grandmother’s lap, largely unaware of why we were here.

And then, Amena pulled out a display surface. Her hands shook. Her gaze turned to me and lingered. “Are you ready?”

Was I? No, but sometimes… we take what’s given. ART played the opening theme of Sanctuary Moon in my feed — the show had ended decades ago, but somehow the melody still helped. It had lasted longer than Worldhoppers, something I reminded ART about when it got too mean about the media we watched.

“Yeah,” I said.

Dr. Mensah nodded and took the surface from her daughter. “I know you and your partners will be good to SecUnit, but… I guess I’ll worry until the bitter end.”

“Don’t say that, Mom.”

“Grandma?” Sasha asked, confused.

I reached out and offered my arms to the questioning child. She crawled off Mensah’s lap and curled up on mine, a monkey clinging to my neck. I upped my body heat for added comfort. Sasha was one of the few people with the privilege to touch me, fuck if I knew why. Maybe because she’d once announced that she wanted to be strong and brave like SecUnit. Maybe not.

“Mom’s sad.” Sasha looked frightened, and for a moment, the family resemblance was unmistakable.

“Mom and Grandma have to do something very difficult because…” Amena began and cut herself off, clearly unwilling to explain the Rim to her child.

“Because the place where I was made is not fair,” I finished. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s give your parent some privacy.”

This was written based on a conversation in the Murderbot Discord server and the nature of inescapable death.

#murderbot #fanfiction #grief and loss #snippet #death

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thecowardwrites · 4 years

Text

Touch Starved [Suga, Oikawa, Bokuto x Reader]

Originally requested by @0hakaashi:

Sorry to tag you in this again, just transferring stuff over from my old account! Hope you still like it

<><><><>

Suga:

Suga was your first boyfriend – at least your first real boyfriend.

You were very new to this whole being-affectionate-to-one-another thing that couples do.

On top of that, you said physical affection made you uncomfortable so Suga respected that and tried to show you he cared in different ways.

Like carrying your schoolbag in the hallway, making sure he brought sweets to school for you to have during lunch, he let you borrow his jacket whenever you looked cold, he made sure you got the best seat in the house if you went to the movies, he would buy you tacky (but cute) gifts whenever he went somewhere cool for volleyball – he did everything he could think of to show you he cared without the risk of making you uncomfortable.

One night, the two of you had decided on staying in to watch a horror movie and eat junk food.

Suga and you were leaning on each other (shoulder to shoulder) when he stretched and put his arm on the back of the couch behind you.

It wasn’t a big deal. Until a scene made you both jump, and he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to him.

At first, you both didn’t realize what happened until he started stroking your arm in an attempt to soothe you both from the absolute terror you had just endured.

That’s when your heart rate quickened once again, and you glanced up at him. Only to see that he was already gazing down at you, eyes wide.

When you didn’t react, he started to pull away mumbling apologies.

You basically yelled, “HUG ME!” as his arm was removed from around you.

He has never reacted to something so fast ~ Suga pulled you close to him once more (movie completely forgotten) and you laid a head on his chest.

You could hear your heartbeat, and although it would’ve been cute to say it was soft and soothing, his heart was beating just as hard as yours.

He began to stroke your hair as you snuggled yourself deeper into his embrace. He would occasionally lean down and press a kiss to your crown and you relished in the touch.

You faded into the comfort and didn’t notice that Suga was whispering to you, asking if you were okay. That’s when you realized you had started laughing.

“Are you okay?”

“Yea it’s just – It’s just that I… I really like being held apparently.”

Oikawa:

You had been dating Oikawa for a month now.

A month of you telling him that you hated being touched, cuddled, snuggled with – any of that.

A month of you still snuggling into him at night whenever you slept over. He never said anything though.

In your sleep, you would scooch over to him, wrap your arms around him in a death grip, and cling to him like a koala bear. That first time you did it, it scared the absolute shit out of him.

You told him you didn’t cuddle, so he didn’t expect to be grabbed onto in the middle of the night. When he finally realized what was happening, he had to stifle his laughter so that he wouldn’t wake you up.

He tried to tell you after that night, but you refused to believe him.

“You’re just making stuff up now, Oikawa.” You said, ignoring him and going back to getting ready.

So, he never said anything about it again.

He just tried to appreciate those moments when he did get to hold you – he was a snuggler after all.

One night, he had devised this plan to wake you up while you had wrapped yourself around him so that you could see what he was talking about that first night.

He waited until you had moved to the same position you had taken every night prior and gently stroked your cheek.

He softly called your name as he did this, and (it took a little while) but you were finally drawn from your sleeping state.

“What the hell do you want, Oikawa?” You mumbled into his shirt.

“Just look around, love.”

You adjusted your position, propping yourself up on an elbow, and ended up elbowing him in the abdomen.

He grunted, wanting to curl up in a ball, but he couldn’t because you were pretty much directly on top of him.

That’s when your sleep-ridden brain started to realize what was happening.

You started apologizing profusely, but he just laughed it off.

“This is why I tell you I don’t like being touched it just ends badly!”

“You basically crawl all over me in your sleep, though!” He retorted watching as you sat up by him. “You can’t blame me for you being a natural snugglebug in denial.”

You rolled your eyes at him, getting ready to scoot back to your side of the bed, when you shivered from the lack of heat from being held.

“Can I-“ Your voice was quiet and meek; Oikawa just nodded, opening his arms up to you.

You laid down, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His hair tickled your nose and the smell of the body wash he used flooded your senses.

Y/n.exe has stopped working

You didn’t really know how to react at first, your body was stiff as you hugged him. Your body shook with his as he laughed and let you figure out whether you wanted to stay like that or go back to your side of the bed.

It was kind of uncomfortable at first, but the longer you laid there, the more it felt right.

You face flushed when Oikawa’s arms rested on your back (since he figured you wanted to stay) and his cheek rested on the top of your head. Your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, and you had a hard time calming down.

It felt so nice, it was so warm, so weirdly intimate. You couldn’t believe you had refused to accept this feeling for months.

Bokuto: Written by @hurtbycanonthoughts

So right off the bat, Bokuto is fairly affectionate when it comes to people he cares about

You’re aware of that but he never really seemed to do much besides just giving you a quick kiss on the cheek which not only confused you, but it seemed to confuse Akaashi as well

It’s not that Bokuto didn’t want to do anything, he was just worried about making you uncomfortable since he can be a tad much at times

You have to reassure him that it’s ok and that you’d actually like the affection but he’s still nervous

Eventually he doesn’t necessarily care and just wants to hug you

It was right before practice, you both were talking, waiting for the rest of Fukurodani’s team to show up when he decided that he wanted to give you affection

Right before Akaashi got there he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck

You almost died on the spot because not only was he being cute, but you were touch starved and the affection he had given you felt so nice

He went to pull away and you made a noise, not wanting him to let go of you yet which if I’m being honest, kind of shocked him

You two stood in the middle of the gym, holding onto each other whenever the team got there and they definitely weren't about to pass on the opportunity to tease their captain

Though most of the things they said about you two he agreed with and the team really didn’t know how to react to you both still hugging when practice was going to start at any moment

Akaashi ended up having to pull you two apart because you didn’t want to let go since it was the first (of many to come) time he’s ever hugged you and been affectionate and you were way too comfortable in his arms

After practice Bokuto ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your cheek. That was just enough touch that made you melt into his arms. Not that either of you were complaining though

You eventually told Bokuto you were actually pretty touch starved because he never really noticed. He just thought you really enjoyed his hugs and affection. He does get more touchy as time goes on and eventually almost always has a hand on you or at least holding your hand

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #oikawa fanfiction #oikawa headcanons #oikawa x reader #haikyuu sugawara #haikyuu oikawa #sugawara x reader #suga x reader #sugawara headcanons #sugawara fanfiction #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto fanfiction #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines

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mrvdocks · 3 years

Text

Selcouth

You shouldn’t have come on this stupid trip. Not even if it had opened you up more to him. If anything, you felt this trip had soured the more time had passed. Alex could tell. But you two had to play it safe, play the parts that Karl thought you two assumed from his perspective. You resented that, having to stick to an image that he had formed of you, one that tried to act like you weren’t so in love with him it made your heart ache.

Or,

You and Alex plan a meet up with Karl for a week trip, only to have your feelings for Karl be put to the test when things don’t pan out how you all planned. (Karl Jacobs/Reader)

After

“Stop it.” He says, voice serious and no longer joyful or even hinting at friendliness. You’ve heard Karl be serious many times but this time sounded different. This time he sounded like he was scolding a child after being annoyed by them repeatedly.

“Stop what?” You ask, pretending to be aloof.

“Stop acting like a child!”

“I’m the one acting like a chil - since when was doing something I want, acting like a child?!”

He makes a hmpf sound. “What is this supposed to be, payback? Is that what you’re playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything here, Karl. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He scoffs. “Oh yeah? So you just suddenly developed an interest in Dream overnight, is that it?”

“Honestly, why do you care so much? My love life isn’t up for debate here.”

“Oh and mine was?” He retorts.

You knew he would bring it up, you just knew. It was perfect ammo right now. You stutter to find the right words.

“What - what do you want from me Karl? I don’t need to explain myself to you. Have you considered that maybe I just finally got tired of being alone? That maybe I just needed someone?”

Karl tries to not let this dig push him over the line but his frustration and jealousy wouldn’t let him stop seeing green.

“Is this what you do? You like playing with people's feelings? Do you think screwing my friends is going to help you or is this another one of your phases?”

It feels good in the heat of the moment but he knows he’s messed up as soon as he says it.

Your mouth drops open. Incredible. In-fucking-credible.

You laugh bitterly, trying to put up a strong front but your voice betrays you by cracking. “That’s low, Karl. That’s - really fucking low.”

Instantly regretting it, he tries to make amends but can’t put words together properly. His mind reels, heart races, palms suddenly feel sweaty and all he can manage is your name. “(Y/N)......I -”

You can’t bear to hear another false apology spill from his lips. If that’s how he felt, then there was no changing his mind. No matter how badly you wanted to.

“No you’re right. You’re right. You made your choice and so have I. Goodbye Karl.” You conclude and hang up, throwing your phone across the room. You stare at it until your vision becomes blurry with tears.

Where do you go from here?

Before

You didn’t think that when you first started streaming that you’d end up at the point you were now. You just wanted to have fun with your friends, maybe meet some new people, share your interests along with the loads of games you found amusing. Interestingly enough, your personality and content seemed to resonate with a lot of people.

Pretty soon you’d become one of the top streamers on Twitch behind the other big talent that once dominated your dashboard.

You’d made your way into the big leagues with names like GeorgeNotFound, Dream, Quackity, Nihachu, and even Karl Jacobs. Though you’d met the latter two years ago, you’d become quick friends with Quackity, or Alex(is), having bonded over having similar backgrounds and interests.

He was more like a brother to you than anything, much to the chagrin of many in the chat. You believe it had to do with growing up in a family with mostly girl siblings.

Your collabs with Alex garnered lots of views, with people tuning into the streams to watch you two yell at each other chaotically while playing odd games or attempting to bake things.

Of course, while he did your side of content, that meant you had to hold up your end of the bargain. Minecraft wasn’t your strong suit at first, but as time went on and with some help from both Alex and Karl, you became a little more proficient.

Karl was no stranger to you, not anymore. Alex had introduced you to Karl a little after he started streaming. You’d only really known him from a couple of Jimmy’s videos.

He seemed kind, goofy, friendly, and all around a pretty fun guy to be around. Which is why when you started to fall just a little bit for him, you were surprised. You came into this Twitch thing with one rule. Don’t fall for people.

Things could get messy, it was always a given. The fandoms would tear into you or them, people were unpredictable. It was just better to keep everyone at an arm's length when it came to shipping.

You were thankful nothing had come to fruition from your friendship with Alex. If anything, all you saw were people shipping you platonically. Though you two would often tease each other if one had a crush on someone.

Your dynamic with Alex meant that you had countless ridiculous and outrageous moments together, often documenting them when he would visit you in LA from Mexico or you going to Mexico to see family and stopping by to visit him.

It was starting to become a thing you two did a few times a year. This year was no different. Even when the pandemic seemed to sour your plans, you both promised to stay safe and healthy and limit the trips. So far, this was going to be the first trip you two would be taking anywhere.

Your phone buzzed next to you as you scrolled mindlessly through your discord server. You laughed a bit here and there, looking at memes and chatting with people.

Alex’s text ringtone was him rage quitting during a game where you absolutely obliterated his ass. You either cracked up at the sound of it or jumped in sudden fear when it bounced off the walls of your apartment in the middle of the night.

A: Hey wiener, are you packed?? I know you take like three business days to get ready.

You rolled your eyes. He was supposed to be coming to visit you first before you both made the flight out to see Karl in North Carolina.

Y: Me??? I’ve been packed since last week. I thought you were supposed to be on the flight here already 🙄

A: I may or may not…...already be out. 💀

Your eyes widen. You abandon the chat and hit the FaceTime button. He lets it ring for a good five seconds before he accepts it and greets you with a close up of his face.

“What am I looking at?” You ask, feigning disgust.

“My beautiful face, what else?”

“Really? I thought it was a dog’s asshole.” You chuckle.

He guffaws. “Fuck off! First I get stranded here in LA, then I get some shitty chicken nuggets and now you’re calling me butt ugly! Why does life hate me so much?!”

“Menso! You were supposed to call me when you - wait did you say chicken nuggets?”

“Yeah, I still have the rest but I can’t finish because every time I chew I think of the pink slime.”

“Ugh don’t talk about Supersize Me, I’m still having nightmares about it. Who shows that to little kids??”

“Yeah well it’s shit, Burger King’s better.” He admits, munching down on the nuggets. He chews obnoxiously near the phone speaker to annoy you so you tap at the screen in retaliation.

“Hey, I was supposed to record you trying out American McDonald’s! Why are you taking sweet sweet content away from me? Now no one gets to see you lose your McVirginity!”

He sputters through a mouthful of nuggets and does a combination of coughing and laughing.

“Anyways,” he says, finally nugget free. “You coming or not? I don’t think I wanna sleep on the airport floor.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The airport was a forty five minute drive, thirty if you stepped on it and committed several traffic violations.

Maybe that would make good content.

You grabbed your keys and rushed out of your home, fully prepared to go fast and furious. You put your windows down, connected your phone to the aux and blasted Tokyo Drift as you merged into the freeway.

Half an hour later, you’d arrived at a packed airport pick up area and texted Alex to let him know you’d arrived. He replied that he was starting to feel the effect of the chicken nuggets but that he would push through people to get out of the building before he caught anything from anyone.

Once you could make out his figure up ahead in front of the other cars, you got the bright idea to switch your music to something more interesting. You pulled up one of his videos where he was fully invested in a rendition of Hey There Delilah and honked excessively once you got closer to him. He looked around and pulled his beanie down lower to hide his face in embarrassment.

You and the prerecorded Quackity sang in off key unison with the volume up as much as you could before he threw his luggage and bags into your backseat, hopped into the passenger seat and put the volume down.

“Never do that again.”

“Hey, that was your welcome salute. I don’t do that for other people, you’re special and I like it.”

“Could you try liking me a little less? I could do without all the cringe covers.” He laughed to himself as he buckled up.

The ride home consisted of a mix of very poor and impressive impressions of characters that would’ve annoyed nearly anyone else except you. Alex alternated from a gruff impression of Squidward to a raunchy Mickey Mouse that left you doubling over and gripping the steering wheel. You competed with him, doing your worst impression of Cookie Monster and Goofy.

Your impression competition was interrupted by a phone call, Karl’s photo flashing flipped a panic switch in you as you scrambled to grab your phone. Alex takes your phone and extends his arm far from your reach.

“Ah, ah, ah! No texting and driving! You want to kill us or something?!”

“I need to answer! What if he thinks I’m ignoring him?”

“I got it, I got it.” He assures, sliding the bar to unlock the phone and meet Karl face to face.

Karl makes a surprised sound, greeting Alex almost immediately.

“Hey bub!” You chime in, keeping your eyes on the road but getting a glimpse of Karl in his frog outfit.

“Hi! Sorry, I didn’t know you were driving.”

“No it’s okay! I’m just coming back from picking up this idiot.”

“Who you calling idiot, dumbass?” Alex suddenly burst into his Mickey Mouse voice from earlier, ending it with the iconic Mickey laugh.

Karl seemed to eat it up, breaking into laughter. It was infectious enough to make you chuckle.

“You guys excited for the trip? It’s looking really pretty here this time of year. I can’t wait to show you around.”

“You mean show us your sweater collection?” Alex jabs.

You nudge him roughly to the side as a warning, glaring at him when he glances at you.

You’d hoped that the change of scenery would do you some good. LA was an endless heap of heat that you never could seem to escape. Not even with air conditioning. It was October already, which normally would mean Fall, orange leaves, pumpkins everywhere, a complete shift in temperature, right? Nope.

It was the devil’s asshole all year round, something Alex could attest to.

“Don’t mind him, I think he was dropped as a kid.”

“How dare you! There is nothing wrong with me, I’m perfect.”

“Ha! Sure. As if you don’t have a lot of things wrong with you.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

You tap at the time on your screen, “We don’t have enough time to get into it.”

You turn your attention back to Karl, very attentive to your bickering, small chuckles here and there. It wasn’t until he made eye contact with you that you felt your hands falter on the wheel. You were lucky enough that it didn’t make you stray away from the road.

“Um - you know what? We’ll call you later, we’re almost home anyways.”

“Okay! Be safe! Goodnight. ” Karl bids you both goodbye and poses his phone in front of him in order to hug it from afar, as if to hug both you and Alex.

You groan to yourself, pretending to bang your head against the steering wheel as soon as you pull up to your complex. Alex laughs at your misery.

“Oh man, you really are down BAD.”

“Shut up! I regret telling you things sometimes.”

“No one said you had to! I guess I just have one of those faces.” He Chad swipes at his chin and squints at you.

“Yeah, punch able.” You remark with a quirk of your brow, slipping out of the car and heading to your front door.

Alex follows, grabbing his things in a hurry before you can get the chance to lock him out and leave him to sleep with the coyotes.

“Don’t leave me out here! I’m too delicious to die!” He cries.

You’re awoken by the feeling of warm sunlight on the left side of your face. You hesitate to move, feeling tired already even though you’re sure you slept longer than you should’ve.

You prop yourself up by your elbows, shielding your face from the sun with your hand. You get out of bed groggily, staring at the floor for a second before making your way to the living room and finding Alex sleeping in a weird position.

Amused, you rush back into your room and grab your phone to document this moment and post it on Twitter. However when you return, he’s gone. You lean over the couch to check if he’s hiding behind it but he’s nowhere to be found.

You’re about to crouch to check for his feet or any sign of him when you feel fingers dig in your sides. You yelp in fear and surprise, smacking your attacker until he starts to yell in a shrill voice.

Alex pushes you over the couch making you fall on your ass.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” You scream.

“That’s what you get for trying to take pictures of me!”

You try to stand, rubbing at your sore ass. “Ugh, what are you, a cryptid or something? The people have a right to see!”

“No one gets to see me in the morning! No one! I need my beauty sleep more than you.”

He extends a helping hand for you to take in a moment of truce but you take advantage and pull him down with you to land on his back. He groans when he hits the ground and curses at you in Spanish.

“Play time’s over, we gotta get ready. The plane leaves in…..one hour????!”

Your phone says it’s only nine in the morning but you hazily remember the tickets reading ten thirty.

“No way! I have to take a shower, I have to order food….” He begins, counting on his fingers the various things he suddenly had to do but you stop him by running into your room and getting your bags.

“No time! Brush your teeth, get dressed, I’ll buy us something at the airport.”

“NOOOO! Airport food is disgusting! Can’t we stop somewhere?”

“Like I said, no time! We gotta be out of here in thirty minutes.”

He grumbles under his breath.

“I heard that!” You yell behind you, grabbing a towel and turning on your shower.

After Alex rummaged through your kitchen, stuffed himself with some snacks and an alarming amount of frozen food, you urged him to shower in the little time span you had left and ordered a ride to take you to the airport.

You had to basically pull him away from putting on his finishing touches with his beanie, with him complaining that his hair wouldn’t settle under it the way he wanted. You rolled your eyes and shoved him and your stuff into the Uber and kissed California goodbye.

You two started planning what you’d do in NC as soon as you landed, besides getting food. You could practically hear Alex’s stomach grumbling the whole drive to the airport and even after the Uber gave him some snacks.

There was a sense of urgency that made your stomach twist in knots until you’d arrived at the drop off section. You stuck your tickets in your pocket as you hurried Alex, dragging him and urging him to run faster than he’d ever imagined to catch the plane.

With only minutes to spare, you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you panted and tried to regain it once you were at the gate. Alex makes a joke about you being out of breath to the pretty attendant that you make a note of later, just in case he tried to flirt with her.

Alex followed the attendant like a puppy while you popped your phone out from your pocket and snapped a photo of the plane. You debated sending it to Karl, not sure if wanting your boarding to be a surprise or not. You relented to posting it on Twitter and sending it to Karl.

Big things coming ;) You tweeted, exiting out of the app as quickly as you’d posted it, knowing you’d be flooded with notifications.

You switched over to message, sending it to Karl but unsure if he would be awake right now. Maybe it would make his day better.

On our way! See you soon! :))

You ran to catch up with Alex, finding him still talking to the attendant. In the most bitchy voice you could muster, you hugged him from the side and nestled your head into his shoulder.

“I’m so happy we’re going on vacation babe, thank you!”

His face fell, the attendant suddenly losing interest and suggesting the two of you find your seats. You intertwine your hands with his and hold it up, making a joke about how you two were inseparable.

He suppresses the urge to fight you and instead screams internally, whisper yelling to you as you both sit. “You couldn’t let me be a Chad once? Just once!”

“That’s what you get for slamming me on my ass earlier.”

#karl jacobs x reader #mcyt #yes I am aware that alex and karl might be a little OC #but I really wanted to get this chapter out of the way #myct fanfiction #myct imagines #dream smp

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Know No Better

Streamer Gang & Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, HUMOR, Crack, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A game of Among Us with this gang can never go without a halt for some spit-fire accusations and bickering, but throw their mutual friend Y/N in the mix and the chaos flares up twice as intensely.

Requested by my dear friend @thelittleplantlover Hi darling! Thank you so much for being such a loyal reader and never shying away from giving me your full honest feedback. You are an amazing person, a lovely friend and a mutual I’m glad I gained on my Tumblr journey. Love you with all my heart, Vy 💕

“Yo, sorry I’m....late“ Charlie’s eyebrow raises as soon as he enters the Discord call, almost half an hour after the scheduled time due to difficulties with his wi-fi connection. However, neither his presence nor his apology are acknowledged, seeing as how he wasn’t even heard over all the shouting going on in the call. “Um, what’s going on here?“ He asks no one in particular, aware that he probably won’t get an answer.

Surprisingly, though, someone does answer him - Sykkuno. “Hey Charlie, welcome. You missed a whole round and a whole debacle between...” The yelling voices give a clear idea of who this debacle is happening between: Rae, Corpse and Y/N. “Yeah, you can probably tell between who.”

“Yo, is that Y/N? Dude, I haven’t heard from you in so long where’ve you been?“ Charlie exclaims, eyebrows raising in delighted surprise, “What are you arguing about? Imma argue with you.“

“You don’t even know what we’re arguing about!“ Rae snaps, scaring the ever-loving daylight out of the newcomer that all but shrinks a bit in his seat, “These are matters the three of us have to deal with!“

You see, Charlie’s not one to press his luck - definitely not when the sweetheart Rae lashes out like that, reminding him that the impossible can be possible if you’re a strong enough believer - but right now, seeing as how he isn’t playing yet, he’s thirsty for some amusement even if it comes with the price of being verbally beat and battered by the currently bickering trio.

“God bless the day you three actually manage to deal with something by yourselves.“ He snickers, half-hoping Rae wouldn’t hear him. Actually, it’s more one third hoping she wouldn’t the other two suggesting otherwise. Adding gasoline to the fire - it’s basically in his resume at this point.

The reply he receives is not even oriented around his statement and it doesn’t come from Rae - whether that be a blessing or a curse - but rather from Y/N. “Charlie, help! Corpse and I are being wrongfully accused over here!“

“There’s nothing wrong about my accusations! I heard you bribing Corpse into vouching for you, you impostor!“ Rae spits out the word as though this argument is a real deal and not just them throwing a collective tantrum as they usually tend to do.

“He asked me for immunity in exchange for keeping his mouth shut! I never offered it to him!“ Y/N argues back, “Not my fault he’s a corrupt crewmate!“

“You were about to accept the offer though! Who does that?!“ Rae’s not giving up her ground either.

“Anyone! All of you know you would’ve accepted the offer had you been the one to be proposed it!“ Y/N whines, reminding themself and everyone else that they are not a very argumentative or confrontational. The only time they can be caught butting heads with people is as a joke, among this very group of people and over something as small as a bribery in Among Us. “And why is no one going off at Corpse for this? Why am I the villain here? Um, hello?! I’m an impostor, I’m supposed to be evil. One of your own betrayed you, and I’M your biggest problem?!”

“I’d like it if you didn’t get me involved...“ Corpse inquires shyly, as though fearing he too is in for an outburst from Rae if he dares oppose hers and Y/N’s statements.

Unfortunately for him, he’s attacked by their joined forces with a: “YOU STARTED THIS!” Shouted at him in unison. Just like Charlie, he too shrinks in his seat.

“Hey Toast.“ Charlie nudges one of his friends, one he hasn’t heard from for the entirety of his short time in the Discord call, “You there?“

“Sup man?“ Toast answers, unmuting his mic for the first time after approximately ten minutes of silence on his end due to this heated debate going on.

“Ten bucks says this goes on for another ten minutes.“ Charlie says nonchalantly, already planning the cheap dinner he’s gonna order with those ten bucks.

“Nah man, fifteen for fifteen minutes. These two have no chill.“ Toast says, taking a sip of his soda.

“You’re both wrong.“ Sykkuno interferes, “I’m putting in twenty for twenty and I’m starting a timer.“

“WHAT?!“

The three men sit there paralyzed now that the two sides of the battlefield have temporarily united once again to end them. Lord knows when Y/N and Rae unite, nothing good is in store for those who they’re up against.

“N-nothing...I was just announcing that...“ Charlie starts off, strategically reaching for the plug for his router, “...my wi-fi’s gonna disconnect in three, two...“

“DON’T YOU DARE!“

And WHOOP he’s gone. And so are Toast, Sykkuno and Corpse.

“I really can’t believe them sometimes.“ Rae grumbles under her breath finding the miserable number of remaining players once again gathered in the cafeteria after no one got voted out despite everyone knowing it’s Y/N.

“And here I thought Charlie would back me up.“ Y/N sighs disappointedly, shooting a brief look at their chat, “Hell if I ever trust him again.“

“Look at the bright side though!“ their friend, moments ago opponent, hurries to comfort them as though their argument never happened. Technically, it really didn’t. “He’s at least not gonna get those ten bucks he sounded so confident in getting.“

Knowing Charlie, losing a bet will most likely leave him feeling torn, but hey, much to his comfort, he was the closest in guessing the duration of the arguing. You win some and you lose some, this time he’s done neither. But he will get an earful from Y/N at the first given chance they get, which he’s grown used to over the years, being the one knowing them the longest. What he’s still trying to get used to is how much they’ve clicked with his friend group. Never did he imagine his socially awkward and shy friend would steal all his friends and literally wrap them around their little finger. Truth be told, amazement aside, he’s quite proud of them for it.

Yes, of course he’s gonna try bringing this up when they open fire on him as an attempt to calm them down. Yes, he knows it probably won’t work. But also: yes, he knows what will. Cause that’s what best friends do - they know. However, they should also know better than to bet on their friends.

But come on, it’s Charlie and Y/N we’re talking about over here - neither of them know any better. Hell, no one in this gang knows better. That’s what makes them so uniquely and wonderfully chaotic.

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

Breathing Our Last Breath-- Vampire!Luke Part 2

A/N: thank you thank you thank you! For all your love and support on my vampire series!🥰 it means everything to me. The title and overall theme correlates PERFECTLY with BMTH’s song ‘One Day the only butterflies left will be in your chest as you march towards your death.’ When I first heard the song I couldn’t believe how well it fit in with the way I wanted this story to go. And once again...I apologize but the angst will be worth it trust me. Love you please don’t hate me @irwinkitten

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: blood drinking, slight manic episode of the vampiric kind

To catch up:

Giving You My Soul (Part 1)

A bite (blurb)

Fangs (blurb)

Masterlist

• • • •

Him

Luke sought out the help of Michael the next morning after he and Y/N connected last night. It was after he showed her his fangs that while she was sighing his name he almost told her. He almost told her he loved her, but he couldn’t make himself do so. Cheeks flushed, hair splayed across his pillow with his bite marks staring up at him on her left breast, the words were caught between his teeth.

Saying those three words would complicate things more. Change her or keep her human? He stayed up all night wrestling with his thoughts while she slept soundly next to him. When she’d make a noise of contempt, he’d reach over and stroke her face until she relaxed, falling back into a pleasant dream.

He wrote her a note telling her of his whereabouts, gave a quick kiss to her forehead then ran to Michael’s place. He gave a swift knock to the door before bustling in only to find Michael and Kitty cuddled together against the counter.

Kitty’s legs were wrapped around Michael’s waist, their hands in his hair while Michael nuzzles against their neck. Kitty chuckles then opens their eyes when the front door snaps shut. They tap on Michael’s shoulder then says Luke’s name.

“Don’t you knock?” Michael asks turning around. His tone is accusatory, but his face is teasing, his eyes seem a brighter green than normal.

“I did, then just walked right in. Sorry to interrupt,” Luke grins. “Good morning, Kitty.”

“Morning, Luke,” Kitty laughs letting their legs fall against the cupboards. “Is Y/N with you? I can make us some breakfast.”

“No, she’s back at my place still asleep. I came to discuss something with you, Mike.”

Michael notices the change in Luke’s voice, he swallows thickly then turns to Kitty.

“How about you go take a shower and I’ll have breakfast ready for you, hm?”

“All right,” Kitty sighs slipping onto the floor. They peck Michael’s lips. “I want French toast. See you later, Luke. Tell Y/N I say hello.”

“I will,” Luke smiles at them. When he hears the bathroom door close he joins Michael at the counter who’s grabbing the breakfast essentials.

“What’s going on?”

“Are you going to change Kitty?” Luke blurts out. He tried coming up with an easy way to bring up the topic but couldn’t come up with something.

“I haven’t really thought about it or discussed it with them, why? Are you thinking of changing Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs quietly and leans against the counter.

“What brought this on?” Michael grabs the loaf of bread then moves to the fridge for eggs and milk.

“I feasted on her a couple weeks ago and now…I can’t exist without her, Mike.”

Michael sighs. “And since then you don’t want to change her but also don’t want her to die as a human…Have you talked with her?”

“No. It’s not really a conversation I want to have.”

“No one wants to have that kind of conversation,” Michael chortles cracking two eggs in a bowl. He adds a splash of milk then stirs the contents until it turns a pale yellow. He flicks on the stovetop then continues to stir. “She cares about you, too. Don’t make a choice that’s hers to make in the first place.”

“I feel selfish, asking her to make a choice between human or Vampirism and for what? Me?”

“Luke, she loves you. I know you’ve never really been in a solid relationship, but communication is key. Tell her what you’re thinking. Is this why you’ve been acting strange the last few weeks?”

“I’ve been acting strange? How?” Luke crosses his arms and becomes intent on watching Michael dip the piece of bread in the yolk and milk creation. Y/N likes her French toast with strawberries, cream, and syrup.

“You didn’t hear this from me,” Michael warns lowly, “but Y/N was telling Kitty you two haven’t really been…intimate in a while. Since you feasted now I know why. We haven’t known each other for very long but I can tell you’re pulling away, pushing the thing that scares you out of sight. But while you do that, you’re pushing her away as well.”

Luke is stunned into silence. Has he really not touched Y/N since the night he bit her? He goes through his memory quickly of the last several weeks then sees what Michael is talking about. No wonder Y/N was shocked at his sudden need of affection last night. The whole encounter felt different, something has shifted between them and he’s the cause of it.

“How can I do that without realizing it?”

“You’ve been alone for thousands of years,” Michael shrugs plopping the bread in the pan. It sizzles from the heat. “Kind of funny how I’m giving you words of wisdom, eh?”

Luke rolls his eyes but silently agrees. Michael has given him much to think about and all too quickly that becomes very dangerous. He weighs all three of his options; change her so they can be together forever, keep her human, and the third is discussing the first two options with her. The last one scares the hell out of him. He never wants to put her in danger or a place of discord.

For all of his life—human and immortal—he’s never had to worry about someone else. Hell, what he thought was courting her with the gifts he left was actually a little offensive. Then to ask her to give up her life to spend it with him? Does she love him, too?

His thoughts take over every part of him when he returns home to find her in one of his silk shirts—the teal one that contrasts nicely with her skin—making her own breakfast. His mind is elsewhere but he plays the actions well of kissing her temple and having small chat.

Luke hides his thoughts and emotions extremely well around Y/N for the next week. He acts normal. Kisses her, tangles his fingers in her hair and watches over her at the Bar in case Brone tried to approach. On the outside, he played his part well but on the inside he was in turmoil.

He’s been a wanderer, never staying in one place long, never getting attached to someone—human and Vampire alike. This is the longest he’s stayed in one place since Italy and he’s made a friend in Michael and found a deep love with Y/N.

He’s read of love, he even played Romeo at one point in his life. Songs are rooted from love, paintings, movies, poems. He’s observed it in many forms but has never experienced it. This is all new territory for him, waters he’s never swam in before.

Now, he’s faced with the choice to love her for the rest of her days or make her like him. Sure, he lives an extraordinary life, rubbing elbows with royals and celebrities, experiencing history firsthand. He’s seen the world change many times over while he remains the same. Frozen.

Another week goes by filled with questions and more questions. While Y/N sleeps in his bed, her hand is tucked under chin and his shirt hangs off her body, he walks. He walks through the house, examines his belongings, tickles the ivories on his piano as he passes by then he walks his grounds.

He can hear Y/N wherever he goes, the steady lull of her heart and if she wakes he’ll be by her side in a moment. She’s in no danger.

As he walks, he thinks. He imagines the life they would have had back in his time. They’d have a large estate with beautiful furniture and paintings while her closet would be filled with flowing gowns. There’d be plenty of children running the grounds. A happy life, a promised life.

His head snaps to the house when Y/N rolls out of bed and stumbles tiredly into the bathroom across the way. He races back inside taking his place back in bed just as she emerges from the bathroom.

“Where were you?” she asks thickly and falls next to him.

“I got you some water,” he says holding up a glass. He got it on his way.

She rubs her eyes then takes a few gulps before curling up next to him. She fits perfectly against him, her body molding to his shape like the perfect puzzle. Luke stays awake, asking himself a million questions but never finding one answer.

Luke starts to spiral as more days go by. He decides to fast on his feedings as if doing so would clear his head. His assumption would soon be wrong.

He distances himself even more from Y/N by dropping her off at her place instead of his after her shifts at the Bar. He uses the excuse that he’s remodeling and doesn’t want to risk her getting hurt or inhaling too much paint.

That’s the first lie.

While he continues to deny his thirst, he starts to go mad, spiraling down a dark place he’s never been before. He’s going to a place which started the mask mandate in the first place. Vampires wanted to exist in society but when they denied their drinking they became lustful and more dangerous for a bite. The savage ones used the form of fasting as their own kind of drug, it made them see things, feel things they haven’t before.

While he looks at his memorabilia he’s transported back in time with whatever object he’s looking at. His eyes are darkened which darkens the world around him as he’s reacquainted with his old friends. He has gallant parties with them in his trinket room, his manic laughter echoing throughout the house. To a bystander or peeping Tom, they would see he’s completely alone while ghosts of his past keep him false company.

He ignores Michael and Kitty’s calls then slips further and further from Y/N. He makes more excuses. The second lie is when he tells her he needs a break. Something has come up in Italy. An old acquaintance needs help. Y/N asks what exactly the break means, and Luke laughs at the simple question that has an even simpler answer.

“A break of us. I need space, Y/N, my feelings have changed.”

That was the second lie.

The third lie is that he’s close to his answer, but he needs a little more time. A little more time of not consuming blood and everything will fall into place. He’s not sure how many days have gone by when he reaches this realization. The lack of sleep and blood alters time. (It’s really been a whole month).

Luke wakes from a dream, was it really a dream? Y/N was there, and they were laying in the white sands of Cala Luna beach in Italy. He’s not sure what woke him up, but she was on his mind. Not that she hasn’t been for the last however many days. When was the last time he saw her?

He thinks of calling her but then quickly changes his mind. He ended it so he wouldn’t have to force her to make a decision between her life and him. He’s even more of a danger to her now because he’s been without blood for so long and the way she smells to him? His actions could be catastrophic but that dream…he wants to take her to Cala Luna, kiss her in the sand.

He’s made up his choice.

He searches for his phone, checks the date and time and it’s her day off from the bar so he could go and get a blood bag, replenish himself and go see her. He’s ready to open up to her, wrap her in his arms again and kiss her chest with butterfly kisses.

“The Bar,” he mutters then laughs joyously at his brilliant idea.

He decides to run there and in his crazed mind he somehow remembers to put on his mask, although it’s haphazardly placed. Plus, he’s faster than his car anyway so the faster he gets to the bar the faster he can go to Y/N.

The scents of A positive and O negative tickles his nose and burns his throat. He’s so damn thirsty. His mouth waters as he rushes to the bar and orders two bags. He finishes them in seconds, not even using the glass supplied. He feels the blood drip down his chin and Trixie eyes him cautiously as he asks for two more bags.

Halfway through his fourth, a warm body presses into his back. With the lack of blood for so many days, or weeks, drinking it now and in such a rush has him buzzed. His eyesight isn’t completely back yet, it’s as if he has dark spots clouding his vision. How he’s feeling is the equivalence of drinking alcohol and getting drunk.

Luke turns around quickly; his normally pristine vision distorts the figure in front of him. A warm hand touches his cheek, their blood is sweet with a hint of flowers. In his distorted state, his body is on a fine line of going back to normal and lingering on his blood deprived state, he knows it’s not Y/N.

“Hey, it’s all right. I know who you’re looking for,” Celeste says, but his mind alters it into a singing tone.

“Y/N?” he mumbles. Was she really here?

Celeste’s blood entices him. The blood bags are fine and all but drinking directly from a warm body is better. Being out of human contact for so long, her blood allures him tenfold.

“Yeah, she’s upstairs fixing one of the beds,” Simone sings next to him now.

“She is?” he shifts in his chair then nearly stumbles out of it at the thought of seeing Y/N. Then he’s filled with embarrassment. He can’t let her see him like this.

“We’ll clean you up,” Celeste hoists him against her body. His mind reels at the scent of her blood.

“Yeah, come on, sweetie.”

Their voices sing to him as they lead him towards the stairs. The promise of seeing Y/N allows Celeste and Simone’s help. He doesn’t quite remember the stairs being this long, his body feels heavy and he can feel the blood slosh around. Will she be disgusted seeing it on his lips?

A door opens then he’s rushed inside, his legs knocking into each other as he’s pushed against the back of a couch. He starts to giggle. Was Y/N down the hall and Celeste and Simone shove him in the nearest room to save himself from having her see him this way?

“What’s so funny?” Celeste asks brushing away a curl.

“Hiding while I’m seeking,” he giggles. The girls join in his laughter then is jacket is pulled off.

“You know what will help when you see her?”

“We heard all that happened between you two,” Celeste rubs his cheek.

“Yes, we’ve grown quite close the three of us,” Simone sighs.

“What will help? I’ll do anything,” his words slur together. He keeps blinking his eyes trying to get rid of the dark splotches.

“Feed on us, Luke,” Celeste whispers in his ear. “We can tell you’ve been fasting. Your pretty blue eyes are so dark.”

“Yeah, and you don’t want Y/N to see you like this, right?”

“No! No, no, no, no,” he shakes his head, eyes closing. “She can’t see me. I can’t hurt her.”

“Shh, shh,” Celeste hushes while Simone touches his hand. “We’ll help you…”

“Yeah, we’ve got you sweetie…”

Simone reaches for the button of his shirt while Celeste offers him her neck. In his delirium he’s back at the beach in his dream with Y/N and she’s the one offering her neck. Her blood is so sweet, and he loves her so much, he gives in to “Y/N”’s actions.

“Go on, take a bite.”

HER

Y/N received a note from Michael and Kitty to meet them upstairs at the Bar. She’s very thankful for them because after the whirlwind of confusion with Luke they really helped her out. They kept her occupied and her mind off things while also providing comfort that Luke will come around.

When she walks inside she looks to the Bar in search of Trixie, she gives her a wave, but Trixie is busy with the slew of customers. Y/N climbs the stairs then sees the room the note indicated. Y/N opens the door and is horrified by what she sees. Her stomach plummets, her mouth opens in a silent scream and her heart shatters in a million pieces.

Luke’s shirt is wide open, his mouth latched onto Celeste’s neck while Simone is on her knees in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N…” he mumbles.

Tears sting her eyes. She’s gasping for breath while trying to speak his name. She hasn’t seen him in weeks, all this time she was hopeful he’d come back. That he would tell her what he was going through, and they could work it out together whatever it was ailing him. How could she be so naïve?

“Oh, look. We have a guest,” Celeste moans. She smiles deviously at Y/N who wipes furiously at her eyes trying to dry her tears.

“Y/N! What—” Michael’s voice appears and that pulls Luke from his stupor.

Luke shoves Celeste away, blood dripping down his chin. He gasps when he spots Y/N, falling apart in front of him. For a fraction of the smallest second, their eyes meet. He tries to say her name while tossing Simone off of him, attempting to fix his shirt and pants. Then she’s gone, running from the room and away from Luke.

“What the hell are you doing, Luke?” she hears Michael shout.

“Y/N?!”

Was that Kitty she passed? Y/N doesn’t know and keeps running, nearly stumbling down the stairs. As she runs Luke tries to get away from the two sirens who used his weakness against him. Y/N’s face sobered him, cleared his vision.

“Get the fuck out,” Michael hisses at the women. They scamper away with Luke trying to follow but Michael blocks his path. “Talk.”

Back downstairs, Y/N’s legs are shaking, her whole body is in tremors. Her heart is breaking and so is the rest of her. Trixie spots her just as Kitty catches up.

“What--?” Trixie’s eyes are wide at the sight of Y/N.

“Luke was upstairs with Celeste and Simone,” Kitty spits in anger. “Y/N, come here.”

Kitty pulls her against their chest, Y/N collapses all too easily with tears falling relentlessly from her eyes.

“Here, have her sit down. Try to catch your breath, babe,” Trixie consoles then runs for a water.

Kitty shuffles over to a chair but Y/N is resisting. She can’t be here. Not with Luke just upstairs and Celeste and Simone.

“No. T-take me h-home…I don’t wa-want to s-see him,” Y/N chokes out. Kitty glances towards the stairs but doesn’t see Luke or Michael. They nod to Y/N.

“Okay, I’ll take you home.”

“What happened?” Trixie asks on her return with a bottle of water.

As if on cue, Luke has flashed in front of them quicker than the speed of light. Kitty places their arms around Y/N protectively, guarding her from Luke and glares at him. Michael appears as well, his hand moving to Luke’s chest that is spotted in blood and still unbuttoned.

“Ask Luke,” Kitty sneers then leads Y/N out the door.

Kitty tries to console Y/N the best they can at her apartment but she’s sobbing so hard it’s hard to breathe. She gasps for breath so much that she dry heaves. Kitty holds Y/N’s face in their hands and recites a breathing technique to her. Her breathing finally picks up but her tears continue.

After a couple of hours, Y/N finally falls asleep, but it isn’t for very long. She wakes up, remembers what happened and her heart breaks all over again. She’s stuck between rose colored dreams of Luke and the dark nightmare that is her reality. She’s not quite sure which is worse to endure.

Days go by and she hasn’t left her bed. She’s cried herself dry and is left with her skin tight and dry. Her eyes are puffy. She’s so sleepy but she fights it off not wanting to dream of Luke. While she’s awake she wonders what she’s doing then hates herself for wanting to be with him after what she saw.

Kitty forces her to drink some water but refuses to eat. She simply has no appetite. Like her heart it’s disappeared.

On the seventh day, Michael arrives with a bag of goodies for her. While he was with Luke, Kitty and Michael were in constant communication trying to figure out exactly what had happened. When Michael discovered Luke had fasted he became so angry he shoved Luke so hard he flew out the window. Luke didn’t put up a fight, he knows he deserves way worse.

Luke begged and begged for Michael to bring him to Y/N but Michael refused, he’s done enough damage. When Luke overheard Michael discussing Y/N with Kitty and how they couldn’t get her to eat Luke jumped to her aid. He told Michael that taking a shower helps center herself and she needs a lot of blankets. Her comfort food is a warm cooked meal of chicken and mashed potatoes with brownies for dessert.

Michael stared at him in shock but heeded his advice then made his way to Y/N’s. He sits next to her on her bed, removes his mask then gives her an apologetic smile.

“Hi.”

She doesn’t say anything and continues to look out the window. He reveals the goodies in his bag, says he’ll cook her favorite food and that Kitty will help her take a hot shower.

“I want a bath,” she mutters.

“I’ll make sure it’s nice and warm,” Kitty promises then helps her from her bed.

The sun rises, the sun sets. The moon rises, the moon sets.

Her days roll endlessly together that she loses track of time. Her appetite comes back but it’s slim pickings. Her face doesn’t feel so stiff from her tears, but she still isn’t sleeping that well. Usually when she’d have a nightmare, Luke would hold her and murmur in her ear sweet things. Sometimes it would be in Italian and his words would turn into a song lulling her back to sleep.

She hasn’t returned to work, refuses to because she doesn’t want to come in contact with Luke. If she saw Celeste and Simone she knew she would claw their eyes out. Trixie is more than understanding and has banned Celeste and Simone from ever returning. Trixie made sure Y/N knew her job would be there for her when she returns and would still get paid.

She overheard Michael and Kitty saying that Luke hasn’t left the bar since that night. She wonders if he still has the blood on his face or did he clean it off? Surely Trixie wouldn’t let him sit there looking like that. She hates how she’s worried for him.

The sun rises, the sun sets. The moon rises, the moon sets.

Y/N wakes to hear Michael and Kitty talking loudly and in exasperated voices. She steps into the living room where they’re seated, Michael has his phone in his hand.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asks, their heads snap in her direction.

“It’s Luke. He’s been hurt.”

THEM

He hates himself. He let his fear take control which left him powerless. He’s sitting at the bar like he has been for the past five weeks, never leaving this spot in case Y/N walks in. He overheard Trixie on the phone with Michael that she takes as long as she needs to return.

He has half a mind to try her at her apartment but a nasty text from Kitty made him stay away. Michael would visit him frequently, drinks a blood bag with him. Michael hated seeing Luke this way, his skin is an unhealthy pallor, his eyes darkened with purple and black circles underneath.

His heart hasn’t beat in centuries, yet he takes on the appearance of what a broken heart looks like. When Luke asks about Y/N his voice is papery thin. He sounds as old as he is, thousands of years old. Fading, decrepit, frail.

Brone stalks up behind him, pushing Luke against the counter. Luke takes it but turns around slowly.

“You look like hell,” Brone laughs. “You’re really this torn up over that flower? Was she really that good in bed?”

“What do you want, Brone?” Luke croaks.

“Let’s have a little chat outside…”

Brone’s teeth sever into Luke’s flesh, his back, his shoulder, his arms. The venom doesn’t harm him, but it fills him with enough pain that he feels himself losing feeling in his body. In between bites, Brone screams at Luke to fight back. He’s waited all this time to get revenge on him for stealing away the love of Brone.

“What are you talking about?” Luke coughs out.

“Remember Lenore?”

Luke vaguely remembers the strawberry-blond woman. It was back in the early 1940’s, she was a candy striper. Luke befriended her one morning on his routine walk when her hat flew off her head. He caught it and they bonded over a new song from Glen Miller and his band.

The closer they got the more she confided in him and that’s when Brone was brought up. Luke has crossed paths with him too many times to know what Lenore was about to tell him.

“She never shared the same feelings for you,” Luke groans. He slumps to the ground against the wall, his body is starting to lock up from the venom.

“Yeah well, now I’m going to take yours from you.”

“No,” Luke hisses through his teeth. He tries to move but to no avail, the venom is quick, and he’s frozen as stone against the wall.

Brone crouches in front of him, smirking. “Oh, yes. I’ll get to see what’s so special about her to you, then I’ll feast on her. Might change her, might drink her dry. I haven’t decided yet. Catch you around, Luke.”

Luke fills with white hot anger, but he’s immobilized. He feels his eyes become heavy, the venom overtakes him, and his world goes dark.

“LUKE!”

Her voice. He hears her voice and tries to reach her but he’s floating somewhere. Somewhere that’s dark and still. Luke tries to resurface, reaching for the sound of her heart. She’s sobbing his name so close in his ear. Is she touching him? He can’t feel it. He wants to tell her to run, to get to safety.

“LU—”

He hears a commotion. Brone’s voice and Y/N’s then a scream and a thump. Michael’s voice. Trixie’s voice. Y/N’s heart jumps erratically, her breath gasping. Luke tries to scream her name. He tries to claw his way from the darkness.

The voices blend together, he’s trying to follow along with the words, but he can’t grasp on anything quite yet. Is Y/N all right? What’s happened? Where’s Brone?

Michael’s voice warps in and out of his mind while he’s screaming on the inside.

It starts in his fingertips and toes. He’s gaining sensation back in his body and when he can twitch his fingers he feels Y/N’s hand next to his. Her heart is still beating but it’s staggered. Where were they? Luke smells the area and they’re in his home on his bed. His bed that still smells of her sweet floral scent.

Michael and Kitty’s voices carry from downstairs, but Luke doesn’t decipher what they’re saying. His hearing is still deep underwater in the lake of the venom. His fingers twitch some more then he brushes her skin. That excites him. He keeps twitching his fingers until he hooks them with hers, he grasps her tightly, so she’ll know he’s there.

Did Brone bite her? Is she changing? Did he just drink a lot of her blood that it’s taking her so long to recover? He wants answers but if Michael brought them to his home then she has to be all right. Right?

More time passes and his ability to move travels up his legs and arms. His eyes and mouth are still clamped shut, that’s the last place the venom reached him, so it’ll also be the last place he recovers. He flexes his finger and toes, bones cracking from being still for so long. At least he can get a firmer hold on Y/N’s hand, now he rubs his thumb over her skin.

Slowly but surely, he feels the weight on his chest disappear. His neck feels lighter and he can turn it from side to side. Not long now and he can open his eyes, he can look at Y/N and assess what’s happened. He can apologize. He can tell her he loves her. He can tell her that fasting was a terrible idea and that he was scared. He can tell her he’ll do anything to gain her forgiveness back.

He counts the time with his clock from his trinket room. It’s been two hours and his jaw goes slack. He opens his mouth and can taste Y/N’s scent in the air.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters wanting his eyes to open now. Open, open, open, open!

Two minutes and his eyes flash open, he has gained full mobility back and he crouches next to Y/N. Her eyes are closed, there’s bite marks on her arms but he doesn’t smell the venom. So why hasn’t she woken up?

“Michael!”

Michael appears.

“Finally. I was about to lose my mind. How are you--?”

“What happened?” Luke interrupts pressing his hand to Y/N’s forehead. She’s not her normal temperature.

“I’m not too sure. When I came, she was on the ground next to you bleeding. I tried to get Brone and kill him, but Trixie got him with her cross bow in his shoulder and he ran off. I would’ve gone after him, but you were frozen and Y/N…I don’t know what’s wrong. I think he fed off her, but I don’t know why she isn’t waking up,” Michael explains in a rush.

“Y/N, lovie…” Luke murmurs caressing her cheek. He kisses her hand that’s still in his, her skin cold. Her heart starts to flutter.

“…uke…” she barely utters.

“I’m right here, love, what can I do to help?” he begs cradling her face.

“Butterflies…” she exhales, and he’s confused. What about butterflies?

“Hm? Should I get you some chocolate?”

Her eyebrows pull together, a weak movement, but he notices it.

“Do you feel butterflies?” he asks gently, her thumb jerks against his hand. That must be yes. “Where are they? They’re not hurting you, are they?”

“No…take me…away…”

“They’re taking you away? Where are they taking you?”

“F…from you…”

“You have to bite her,” Michael says. Luke had forgotten he was in the room.

“What?”

“If butterflies are taking her away then I think that means she’s…she’s dying. You have to change her Luke. Now.”

Luke looks at her frantically. Her heart has staggered more but she appears fine so how--?

“Luke!”

He hovers over her, rests his forehead against hers.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry for being distant and not talking to you. I pushed you away to try and protect you and now look at you. I’m so sorry for hurting you and for Celeste and Simone…they used my befuddled mind and lack of feasting against me. You’re the only one I want, the only one I desire, the only one I love. I can change you, make you like me but only if it’s your wish, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry lovie,” he confesses in one breath.

She squeezes his hand the best she can.

“Change…please…I can’t…leave…you…” her voice barely registers a normal octave.

“Are you sure?” he whispers nudging his nose against hers.

“I love you.”

It was her most coherent sentence. Luke kisses her forehead then moves to her chest. He pulls her shirt away so he can see his bite marks from months ago when he first bit her. He kisses the spot, lips soft as the butterflies, extracts his fangs and sinks his teeth into her flesh. She lets out a shaky breath as his venom spreads through her.

When he’s expelled enough, he licks his tongue over the puncture then drags his lips towards hers. His Sleeping Beauty will sleep now while her body changes, he gave her the kiss of death that will bring her to a new life.

“Don’t go…hold me….”

Tears leak from her eyes as the venom spreads, Luke kisses them away.

“I won’t leave you. You’re going to hurt, but I’ll keep you wrapped in my arms.”

He adjusts himself so he can hold her against him, her heart leaping and jumping at different speeds. Michael mumbles something about being downstairs to tell Kitty. Luke kisses her hair, breathes her in before the pain will take over.

Thankfully, the process isn’t long. It takes about twelve hours for the body to fully change into a Vampire. He stays with her while her breathing quickens then turns shallow. He keeps holding her when she thrashes against him, begging him to take the pain away. He holds her while she screams, telling her how much he loves her.

Her screams continue after the second hour. Her body goes slack, but her voice rings out from the searing pain. Her heart rate keeps increasing.

The sun sets, the moon rises.

When the clock chimes midnight, her screams go silent and her heart comes to a full stop. Luke’s gaze hasn’t left her face and he watches, and he waits. He touches her cheek with his fingers, she flinches then relaxes when she smells him.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs. She turns towards his voice; his arms relax around her, but he doesn’t pull away.

Then, like a butterfly appearing from their cocoon, she opens her eyes to a new life.

• • • •

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