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#it’s so strange to me that there aren’t more ame lovers out there
achilleslyre · 9 months
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listen yahiko is so very full of love and i like to talk about that in a silly way often bc he really does extend grace to so many people in a world that prefers immediate combat but……. what’s really so lovely about yahiko (and ame trio) is that despite their love they’re still revolutionaries and hate and criticize the shinobi system and actively fight against it. idk they’re a lot like sasuke in that regard in which they’re all very loving characters but they also do actively oppose konoha/shinobi system. which is obviously very rare to see in the manga and it’s super important to me.
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m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months
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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // THREE
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Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.
Chapter Synopsis: You have your first day at the Royal Fire Academy, where you meet the other girls, including Kaho.
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Zuko x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 5.1k
Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery
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A/N: zuko in his letters (sage, wise, cool and collected) vs zuko irl (SOO fucking awkward)
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To His Royal Highness The Prince Zuko,
I apologize for my earlier language. In truth, it feels strange for me to speak to you as if you were my friend. I think that it is because you are my benefactor, and a prince besides, so there is a need for formal and proper conduct. We have that kind of relationship, if you can see it from my perspective.
Your offer of help is greatly appreciated, though I am not quite sure what I have done to deserve it. I shall try to solve my troubles on my own, when I can, but if it should come to it, I will try to remember that I have the prince of the Fire Nation on my side. I wonder how many girls at the academy can claim that, indeed!
Anyways, my roommate is nice. Her name is Jia-Li, and she is self-reportedly average, but all told, we get along well enough. I wish I could say the same for the rest of my classmates — barring, naturally, Ty Lee — but I am afraid to report that we already do not get along. There is this one girl, Kaho, who has a specific grudge against me, despite my attempts at avoiding that outcome…but I should not bore you with the details. Suffice to say that not everyone is as kind as Jia-Li and Ty Lee and Mai and you have been. It is as Jia-Li said, though: two true friends are better than ten false ones. It does not upset me (though it might if I am challenged to an Agni Kai!)
Thank you for feeding Bian. She did seem pleased when she returned to the aviary at the academy. I also gave her a treat. By the way, the falconer said she was supposed to be yours. Is that true? If it is, then I do not think that I deserve such a creature, though of course I thank you for giving her to me anyways. She is very beautiful and possesses a gentle heart, which is a solace in the more trying times.
Ever Your Highness’s humble and obedient servant Sincerely, Ursa
P.S. I am sorry to say that I still do not recall anything about my past. I shall keep you updated if that changes.
You were up before Jia-Li, nervous energy thrumming through you in anticipation for the first day of classes. Ty Lee had stayed late into the night, and then you had spent the candle Jia-Li had lit for you writing to Prince Zuko, so you hadn’t had any time to read or prepare for lessons.
“Ugh,” Jia-Li groaned when you threw open the curtains, the rising sunlight filtering into the room, a beam landing directly on her face, which she promptly covered with a pillow. “What are you doing?”
“You’re a Firebender, aren’t you? Don’t you all rise with the sun anyways?” you said.
“I don’t know who told you that, but they were full of bullshit,” Jia-Li said. “I rise after I’ve had a full night’s rest, which I have not yet.”
“Breakfast is soon,” you said, pulling on your shoes. “You’ll miss it if you don’t get ready now, and then you’ll have to go to class on an empty stomach. I’m sure that doesn’t sound appealing.”
“On second thoughts, I miss not having a roommate,” Jia-Li said, though she did toss aside her pillow and roll out of the bed, thudding to the ground and shoving her feet in a pair of fluffy slippers. Her hair stuck up every which way, and there were bags under her half-lidded eyes as she trudged past you to her vanity table. “You can go ahead and meet Ty Lee in the dining hall now, if you want. I’ll come down later.”
“Do you think she’ll be there already?” you said.
“Yeah,” Jia-Li said. “That girl is the epitome of a morning person. She’s probably been anxiously waiting for you for a while now.”
“Then I shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer,” you said. “See you in class, Jia-Li.”
“See you, Ursa,” she said.
As Jia-Li had predicted, Ty Lee was waiting outside of the door to the dining hall, where all of the girls who boarded at the academy had their meals. She was playing with her fingers nervously, but when she saw you, she bloomed with joy, dancing over to stand beside you.
“Good morning! Are you ready for our first day?” she trilled.
“Not at all,” you said. “I didn’t have any time to read yesterday. I don’t know anything. If the teacher calls on me, I’ll be lost.”
“It’ll be fine,” Ty Lee said, putting a piece of bread on her plate and spreading something on its fluffy surface. “We’re new, so we’ll probably get away with sitting in the back and doing the bare minimum.”
“Let’s hope so,” you said, copying her, trusting her to know what was and wasn’t good to eat at the school. She flounced to the end of the table, and you followed her, sitting across from her so that you two could talk.
“Ty Lee!” a girl said. “Come sit with us!”
“No, sit with us!” another said.
“We asked first!” the first girl said.
“So? She obviously likes us more, we’re way hotter!” the second argued. They began to squabble as you gave Ty Lee a bewildered look.
“What is going on?” you said.
“Besides Kaho, almost everyone at the school liked me…” she said awkwardly. “I guess you could say I was popular! Everyone’s happy I’m back.”
“Looks like it,” you said, baffled at just how many people were trying to claim the spot at Ty Lee’s side. Thankfully, none of them tried to take your space, though you got your own share of dirty glares, which you could only cock your head at in confusion.
“Guys, go away. I’m trying to hang out with my friend from the palace, Ursa,” Ty Lee said.
“What was she there, a servant?” one of the girls said. You glanced down at your clothes, which were the same uniform as everyone else, and then you swallowed. Unlike the other girls, with their expensive hair ribbons and jewelry, you didn’t have anything to your name that marked you as a daughter of nobility — because you weren’t one. It was a safe assumption for the girl to make, and it was even one you’d made about yourself in the past, so why did it hurt your feelings that she had said such a thing?
“Hey!” Ty Lee said. “She’s a friend of the prince — I mean, the princess! Yeah, that’s right, she’s Azula’s friend!”
Immediately, the girls scrambled away from you, and the one who had called you a servant paled. Dropping to her knees before Ty Lee, she bowed her head.
“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect to a friend of Princess Azula’s!” she said.
“Apologize to Ursa,” Ty Lee said, chipper again now that she had found some kind of justice for you.
“It’s fine, Ty Lee. I can see why she thought that, so I’m not upset,” you said. The girl took the opportunity to leap to her feet and race to the other side of the table, the others following suit at the reminder of the princess.
“Those girls are all jerks,” Ty Lee said once you were alone again. “I’m sorry she was talking about you like that.”
“It’s not something you should say sorry for,” you said. “You didn’t do it. Anyways, I was expecting it; Jia-Li told me that the girls aren’t that nice, so it’s not a surprise. The real question is why you claimed my association to be with the princess instead of the prince.”
“Oh, that’s an easy one to answer,” she said. “They all remember Azula from when she attended, so she’s a more concrete threat in their minds. Only a few of them have met Zuko, and he’s been banished for a while, so his name doesn’t carry as much weight. Besides, if you’re associated with one member of the royal family, you’re associated with all of them, so I wasn’t technically wrong.”
“Alright,” you said, forcing yourself to chew on your food, even though it felt heavy and leaden in your mouth. It wasn’t a question of taste; somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could tell that you would ordinarily like eating this. It was your nerves which were ruining the experience, which made your tongue stiff and your jaw tight. You knew, though, that you needed food in order to have energy for the day, so you made yourself eat it despite your misgivings, despite the mental labor that even the mere act of swallowing took.
The classroom was small, which made sense, considering there were only a few girls in your year. What didn’t make sense was that the two desks in the very front were left open, though you had an inkling that one specific person had something to do with it.
“Ty Lee. Ursa,” a girl said. Her hair was pin straight and dark, half of it tied up with a white-and-gold ribbon, the rest falling around her shoulders, her midnight eyes reflecting the torches hanging around the classroom. “We saved you two seats.”
“Kaho,” Ty Lee said through gritted teeth. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I know,” Kaho said. “You can say I did it out of the goodness of my own heart.”
“Like I said,” Ty Lee said. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Thank you,” you said softly, not wanting to get into an argument with the very girl Jia-Li had warned you about last night.
“See,” Kaho said. “At least one of you has proper manners. Though, to be honest, I would’ve expected the daughter of a nobleman to be raised better than the girl that the prince found in the trash.”
“She wasn’t found in the trash!” Ty Lee said.
“Wasn’t she?” Kaho said.
“You can let it be, Ty Lee. It’s fine,” you said. “Let’s just sit down before the Etiquette Mistress gets here.”
Your first class was on the proper etiquette to have in polite society. Considering the many subtleties of etiquette, this was something you were nervous for, as you had no idea how to behave in polite society, or what any of that meant in the first place. It seemed that the others expected as much, for there was a multitude of snickers as you sat in the very front and waited for the Etiquette Mistress to arrive.
“Wonderful, everyone is on time!” the Etiquette Mistress said as she walked in exactly at the second class had to start. She was a neatly dressed and perfectly put together woman, with not even an eyelash out of place. “Let’s begin promptly with a review from our last class. Who can tell me what the three pillars of etiquette are?” She scanned the room, but only one girl had her hand raised. “Kaho?”
“Respect, consideration, and punctuality,” Kaho said, smirking as she folded her hands in her lap. The Etiquette Mistress did not frown, but the corners of her mouth threatened to tug downwards, and before you could think about it, you were raising your own hand.
“Ursa?” the Etiquette Mistress said. “Do you have something else to add?”
“It’s a common misconception that punctuality is a pillar of etiquette. However, in truth, it is not a pillar unto itself but rather a natural development and extension of the pillars of respect and consideration,” you said, though you had no idea where the words were coming from, only that some long-dormant knowledge of yours was bubbling to the surface. “The third pillar is actually honesty, madam, though of course honesty does not imply brutality but tact, benevolence, and integrity.”
Everyone in the room was silent. You could feel Kaho’s eyes boring holes into your back, but you stared steadily ahead, waiting for the Etiquette Mistress to react.
She smiled slightly. “That is correct. I also appreciate that you addressed me with a title; it demonstrates an elegant sort of etiquette that a lady must be born with or else have studied in depth from a young age.”
“Thank you, madam,” you said. The Etiquette Mistress nodded before turning to the board so that she could continue to teach you a lesson on which utensils to use for which meal.
This, too, you excelled in. You were the only student who knew when to use each utensil, even during the trick questions that the Etiquette Mistress threw out to trip you up. With every subsequent test passed, you felt your approval in the eyes of the Etiquette Mistress rising, though it was rapidly falling amongst your classmates, especially Kaho, who must’ve once been the star of the class.
“I thought you said you didn’t have time to study!” Ty Lee hissed once the Etiquette Mistress had left and you all were given a five minute break before the History Mistress arrived.
“I didn’t,” you said.
“Huh? Then how’d you manage to answer her questions so perfectly?” she said.
“I’m not sure. I just knew it already, somehow,” you said.
“Looks like Prince Zuko has a keen eye,” Kaho said from behind you. “To find the diamond amongst the sludge.”
For some reason, even though she was calling you a diamond, it didn’t feel like much of a compliment. Ty Lee seemed to agree, her kind, open face closing into a dark scowl.
“Kaho, you should just shut up,” she said.
“Is that a challenge?” Kaho said.
“It could be, but don’t forget that I’m one of Azula’s most trusted comrades. Is that a fight you think you could win?” Ty Lee said. Kaho seemed furious, but she had no argument, not when Ty Lee was objectively correct.
“The History Mistress will be here soon,” Jia-Li interjected, trying to break the tension. “Let’s forget about all of this and move on.”
“Sozin’s beard, Jia-Li, nobody cares about history,” Kaho said, rolling her eyes. “Just sit in the back and keep quiet like usual.”
Jia-Li stuck her tongue out at Kaho when the other turned away, but you noticed she did not stand up for herself. Ty Lee was the only one who was brave enough to say anything, and even then, you wondered how much of it was false bravado and how much of it was genuine self-confidence.
“Good morning, class,” the History Mistress said.
“Good morning, History Mistress,” you all chorused in unison.
“Today, we will be learning about an event that occurred relatively recently, but will definitely be written down in the history books in the years to come: Prince Zuko’s defeat of Ba Sing Se,” she said.
Ba Sing Se — it was where the prince had found you. You knew that the city had, at some point, fallen to the Fire Nation, but you didn’t know what had happened or how it had happened. This was definitely a topic of some personal interest to you, and you could not help leaning forward in your seat a bit.
“I thought we might go over this, since we now have a personal connection to it in the class,” the History Mistress said. “Namely, Ursa, who was found by Prince Zuko during the invasion.”
The entire class turned to look at you as the History Mistress began to draw a diagram on the board. The weight of their gazes was a suffocating burden, but you did not afford them the privilege of seeing you crumple, for you knew that you had to, in some way, remain strong, lest they pounce upon your perceived weakness.
“During his hunt for the Avatar, Prince Zuko and his uncle, the former General Iroh, found themselves separated from their ship and amongst Earth Kingdom refugees fleeing to the capital city of Ba Sing Se.
“It seemed to be a damning sentence; after all, what place does Fire Nation royalty have in such a city? But our prince is wise and loyal. He and his uncle opened a tea shop in order to bide their time, blending in with the city and learning its secrets.
“Taking a risk, he wrote to his father, telling him he had found a way into Ba Sing Se. The Fire Lord Ozai, who has always had the utmost of faith in his son to do what must be done, sent him the Soldiers of Agni in aid, promising a larger army if the Soldiers of Agni were not enough.
“For those of you who do not recall our lesson from the beginning of the term about the military structures that Fire Lord Azulon put into place, the Soldiers of Agni are the most elite Firebenders in the nation, excepting, of course, the royal family.
“So these proud men, who were the epitome of Fire itself, donned the muddy browns and greens of the Earth Kingdom on the command of their lord and snuck into Ba Sing Se in the same way that Prince Zuko and former General Iroh had. There, they met the prince, who formed their plan of attack.
“On the agreed-upon date, the Soldiers of Agni and Prince Zuko stormed the palace, beginning by executing all of the guards who tried to fight back. The rest of the guards, knowing they were outnumbered, quickly defected, and when the former General Iroh tried to stop them, they took him prisoner for the royal family, allowing the Soldiers of Agni and Prince Zuko to continue their invasion.
“Their main goal was to get rid of everyone who lived in that palace, in which they were successful. Not even the Earth King’s pet bear was spared. He and the rest of the palace’s inhabitants were destroyed, along with an entire wing of the Earth Palace, which the Soldiers of Agni brought crumbling to the ground with their fire and their might.
“Sadly, all of the Soldiers of Agni that fought to take the Earth Palace lost their lives that day. Most of the palace staff were Earthbenders, and they fought back, outnumbering the Soldiers of Agni ten to one. The Soldiers of Agni possessed superior skills, but those were barely enough against such a large quantity of enemies.
“We cannot forget the sacrifices they made. It is through the bravery, spirit, and courage of the Soldiers of Agni that the Fire Nation finally took Ba Sing Se for good. Even in a confrontation where they were at such an enormous disadvantage, the Soldiers of Agni kept fighting for their country, their home, and for the Fire Lord, eventually emerging victorious, though they were unable to enjoy the fruits of their victory. We must always follow this example of duty and selflessness, ever asking ourselves what we, too, can give up for the welfare of the Fire Nation.”
After her long-winded explanation, the History Mistress exhaled, wiping away a tear from the corner of her left eye and then holding her hands to her heart. You all had a quiet moment, presumably in honor of the Soldiers of Agni, and then, tentatively, Jia-Li raised her hand.
“History Mistress, what does all of that have to do with Ursa?” she said.
“That’s something you should ask her, not me,” the History Mistress said, motioning towards you. “Go on, Ursa. Tell us what part you played in this entire tale.”
You gulped. “To be frank, I don’t remember myself what my role was, but I’ve been filled in by Mai and Prince Zuko. Apparently, I was a Fire Nation soldier on the front lines, but at some point, I was taken prisoner by the Earth Kingdom. They were torturing me in Ba Sing Se for Fire Nation secrets. After invading the city, Prince Zuko found me, and he brought me to the palace to be healed. It was there that I woke up without any memories.”
“You were a soldier?” Kaho said, without even raising her hand. She scoffed. “You look entirely too soft to ever have been fighting on the front lines.”
“Kaho, she was in jail for who knows how long,” Jia-Li said softly. “Of course she’s not in fighting shape anymore. Especially if they were torturing her…poor Ursa. You’re so brave for not giving in.”
“That’s right,” the History Mistress said. “We must all endeavor to be like Ursa, as well, who after all of her ordeals is still set upon nothing but improving herself for her country. She truly is the example of what a Fire Nation citizen should be like. Now, let us thank her for sharing her story.”
“Thank you, Ursa,” everyone said. You sat on your hands and hated every second of it. You didn’t like the attention being called to you once again. You just wanted to fade into the background and be forgotten, but more and more, it seemed like that was impossible.
“The topic of prisoners is a great segue into what we’re going to be talking about in today’s lesson. Who can name one historical Fire Nation figure that was also kept in captivity by the Earth Kingdom?” the History Mistress said.
To no one’s surprise, it was Kaho volunteering once more, but this time, she was unchallenged, as you focused all of your energy on writing notes about the material. After all, you didn’t know any of this, and you figured it was likely important that you pick up such things, considering the entirely blank slate that was your mind at present.
The academy’s aviary was only a short walk from the dormitories, and you found yourself frequenting the path already, both because of your correspondence with Prince Zuko and because Bian was one of the few beings that you could say without question was your friend.
“I don’t understand why they already have decided that I am so worthless,” you sniffed, finally allowing yourself to cry in the solitude of the aviary.
Bian tilted her head at you, nudging you with her cold beak. You wiped away your tears before scratching her on her feathery chest.
“I don’t even know half of their names,” you said. “Yet they are convinced that I am someone less than them. Someone worthless. They think of me as waste, Bian — a rubbish girl who does not deserve to be their peer.”
Of course, your messenger hawk was not intimately acquainted with the subtleties of such politics and divisions, but for the moment, it seemed as if she understood, as she let out a low, rumbling coo. It was the most comfort you could dream of, and you bit your lip to prevent a sob from falling past your lips.
“Maybe it’s true,” you said. “You can decorate trash all you want. At the end of the day, you can’t change what it is. Maybe I don’t belong here. I don’t know what Prince Zuko was thinking, sending me to study with these girls.”
Bian nipped your sleeve, almost like a reprimand. You gave her a warning look, reminding her to keep her beak to herself, but all you earned in response was indifference — your reward for thinking a bird could read your expressions and would care about them, even if she could.
“And for some reason, Kaho has a personal vendetta against me,” you said. “I can’t think of anything I’ve done to deserve it. Is it because I corrected her during our etiquette class? But she hated me even before that.”
Jia-Li had mentioned something about Kaho envying you for your closeness with the royal family, but it wasn’t as if you had chosen that. You hadn’t chosen to be saved by Prince Zuko. You hadn’t chosen to lose your memories. You hadn’t chosen to live like this. None of it was in your control, so why did she blame you for it all?
“I just wish I knew who I was,” you said. “Things would be easier if I knew there was someone who loved me. Someone who was waiting for me to come back. If I was a Fire Nation soldier, then my family — they might be nearby, right? I should…I should be trying to find them, not studying at this school!”
You could feel the judgment rolling off of Bian in waves, which was ridiculous, because she was after all just a messenger hawk and was incapable of judging anyone. Still, if she were a person, you fancied she would be judging you at the moment, and your shoulders slumped as you realized how ridiculous you sounded.
“I’m in a position that many greatly desire, and here I am, complaining. I am in an elite institution, my tutelage sponsored by a prince who is only all-too-eager to help me with whatever I need. It is silly that I am so upset, it’s just that — it’s just that I feel like some part of me is missing. Like I lost who I am when I lost my memories, and not just in the sense of my identity. It was something physical. There is something more to me that is out of my grasp, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot reach it,” you said, extending your hand and closing your fist around empty air.
As per usual, there was nothing. It was a futile exercise. No matter how many times you did it, the result would be the same. You would not be able to find that part of you again, not for some time.
“Who am I, really?” you said to Bian. “That’s what I want to know. Who was Ursa? Who were my parents? Did I have siblings? What about friends? What did I do for fun? I don’t know any of it. I feel like I will only be happy again if I can find out. Even if it’s terrible. Even if it means reliving the torture that the Earth Kingdom put me through. I just want to remember.”
But try as you might, there was still nothing. You still had no idea who you were. Although you had had a full day of instruction at the academy, you were in no better of a position than you had been on the day you started.
Ursa,
You really can just call me Zuko. You don’t have to refer to me as the prince, unless you are completely more comfortable with that. Though it is true that I am your benefactor, I am not someone you should defer to. If you can bring yourself to do it, then I should like if you actually think of me as your friend. I would like to consider you mine, and so I will speak to you as if you are until you tell me otherwise.
I’d expect that none of the girls at the academy can claim that the prince of the Fire Nation is offering them friendship, and will be on their side even if they should reject that offer! Anyways, I have no doubt that you will be able to solve any issues that come your way, but sometimes, it is nice to have support. I want to be that for you. Even if it is not me, I hope there is someone at the academy who you can turn to for that.
It is a relief to hear that your roommate is someone likable. I asked Mai about Jia-Li; though she had nothing favorable to say, there was also nothing unfavorable, which is almost more of a compliment, coming from her. It’s good to know that you do not have to sleep beside someone you detest.
And speaking of, I am angered to hear that they have been treating you that way. Please remember that you are worth ten of them in my eyes. You only need to say the word, and I will have them spoken to harshly. Especially that Kaho, who has always been the horrid type (Mai was a little more explicit in her description, but I will spare you the specifics. Just imagine the most obscene expletives you can think of, and then imagine something even worse — that is probably in the range of what she was saying about her). Do not let her get you down; she is a spoiled, sheltered girl whose father is an Admiral and allows her to get away with doing whatever she wants because of his high status in the military. If you stand up to her, then I am sure she will back down. People like that usually do.
Yes, Bian was supposed to be my hawk, but I already have one and have no need for another, so she would’ve just sat in the aviary once I received her. It is for her own good that I gave her to you. If you do not like such an extravagant creature being yours alone, then you may imagine that you are borrowing her from me for the time being (though I will not accept her return — I think that she is attached to you now).
She is an exemplary bird, is she not? The falconer was very proud of her when she hatched. Although, I don’t know if anyone else would agree that she possesses a gentle heart; it’s not something typically said about messenger hawks, which are frequently ill-tempered. It is further proof that she is fond of you and was always meant to be yours, no matter whose name she was hatched in.
My own life has been dreadfully boring as of late. Meeting after meeting after meeting…it is definitely busy, being the prince of the Fire Nation. It’s like everyone wants to talk to me suddenly! But I’m not complaining. I much prefer being home to living on a ship and constantly wondering when I can go back, even if I had considerably more free time back then. 
I cannot think of anything else to write to you about, but I do not wish to stop quite yet, because once I am done with this letter, I will have to attend to some paperwork that I have been putting off. 
It has been sunny recently. The cooks made my favorite meal yesterday. Mai has been moping a lot more than usual (I think she misses Ty Lee). I gave bread to the turtleducks in the pond, and it seemed to cheer their spirits. My father allows me to sit at his right side for meetings nowadays, though as always, Azula is at his left. 
That’s about it. I guess that, as the heir to the throne, I should not keep procrastinating. It’s not very princely of me. 
Yours, Zuko
P.S. Once again, I am sorry to hear that. 
P.P.S. Please keep writing to me frequently, and with as many boring details as you care to include. I like hearing from you will take any excuse to not fill out these ridiculously tedious forms.
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john doe with a gn partner with bad period pains?
JOHN DOE X GN!READER [PERIOD HC’S/SCENARIO]
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SUMMARY: You’ve got some mighty bad period pain, but both luckily and unfortunely, John’s right there to help!
WARNINGS: PERIOD PAINS, MINORS DNI
WORDS: 1,266
A/N: Friendly reminder from a real-life enby, periods aren’t just for women! I get a period, and I am a very proud Bigender individual, Trans-men get periods, and those are %100 without a singe doubt, real men, if you still think otherwise, get the fuck off my blog. :)
HC’S:
 -Oh, he’d be so very worried about you! Especially if you, rightfully of course, are loud about your displeasure, he’d be hovering anxiously over you for hours.
-He’ll get anything you want him too, although he really has no idea what he’s doing, and will likely get most orders wrong, you’ll be seeing a example of that soon.
-Doesn’t like leaving you alone, his separation anxiety is already horrible on a good day, but when you’re in pain? In discomfort? He’ll cling to you like the world is ending, and honestly, if you’re in pain it does feel like his world is ending.
-He’ll give you lots of snuggles and whatnot, he’s usually quite touchy but he’ll only worsen during this week, especially if you’re cramping, but since he smells wet and raw you’re enjoyment could vary.
-You’ll notice his hair will move to try and smother you while he cuddles you, almost like it’s alive..
-Since he can’t cook, you could convince him to let you go for just a few minutes to go grab some takeout, he’ll be reluctant to leave but if you’re starving, well that comes first, but expect him to bring home something extremely strange.
-He talks a lot, but with while he frets and panics over you, it’ll become almost babbling, sometimes completely incoherent as he violently worries about you.
-His body is weirdly warm and cold at the same time, so if you’re looking to warm up or cool off, he might be able to help.
-If you’re like me and sweat a lot during cramps, don’t expect the sheets to be changed, he absolutely loves how your natural odour smells, though he’ll (very begrudgingly) change and wash them for you if you have a leak-through.
SCENARIO:
You moaned, clutching the heat pack to your uterus as the warmth of it starts to dwindle.
Its a tight pain, your uterus tensing achingly as you hunch more into yourself, sweat and tears of excretion building on your skin and in your eyes as a sharp stab shoots throughout your stomach.
Sounds of pain escape your mouth despite yourself, and you try to keep it quiet since your boyfriend was asleep in the other room.
It was a rare occurrence, you figured out as much when you awoke every morning to his comically large eyes staring down at you, small hearts in those even smaller pupils.
It was the only time you got some relief from his presence, not that you didn’t love your eldritch lover, but with his constant clinging and presence pressed against you, stemmed from his separation anxiety, it could get a little suffocating at times, something John didn’t seem to really understand.
He only went to sleep after you assured him you weren’t going anywhere, and that everything was fine, and his grip was tight when you tried to shimmy out of it.
It was true— everything started out fine, your stomach felt a little off but you figured it was because you hadn’t eaten yet, but shortly after you felt the tell-tale feeling of a wetness between your legs.
It lead you to laying in your bed, clutching your now empty stomach as you’d already thrown up the contents, your warm bed helped soothe your tensed muscles where the heat pack couldn’t, and your arm thrown over your eyes protected them from the light streaming through the window.
It was time to roll over onto your back, your right side getting sore where you rested all your weight on it, its been a cycle of side to back to other side for about half an hour now.
With a grunt of effort, you adjusted onto your back, the light trying to burn your retinas now removed, you remove your arm from your eyes.
You jerked violently when you met familiar wide eyes, staring down at you in concern, and if the unblinking gaze wasn’t enough to convince you of his worry, in your peripheral vision his shirt had shifted to a frowning face, how’d he even get in without you noticing?!
It was hard to see the frowning shirt as he was leaned in so close, his face only inches from yours, and because of that, you’re glad when he kept his voice down when he spoke, as a shout might’ve burst you eardrums.
“Dearest, you look so sad! Did somebody upset you?! Tell me who, tell me tell me tell me tellmetellmetellmtell—“ 
He was gripping your shoulders, panic and upset at your clear discomfort, the frown on his shirt melting downwards in the midst of his stress.
“John, calm down.” Your voice was a little gravelly even to your own ears, rumbling out more than you’re use too, and its only once you move to grip his shoulders does he stop babbling, “Its just period cramps, don’t—!“
You inhaled through your nose, you curl into yourself slightly when your stomach almost lurches at the stab in your uterus, and a small wail leaves your mouth.
You can feel John scramble, clutching desperately at you as his anxiety spiked, he didn’t like seeing you in any pain, and was always quick to remove anything or anyone causing you any sort of sting.
“Love!“ his voice grew in volume, and the air around you shifted, dropping in temperature with his worry, you tried to pull yourself together the best you could, the heat pack you’re clutching now ice-cold like the room around you.
“Fuuu.. I’m alright, ergh,” your noises didnt convince him, and his four fingers are still holding onto your shoulders tightly, he’s even more tense than you are, “Can you just, ugh, heat up my pack? It’ll help.”
He snatches up the rice-filled bag you hand to him, eager to help, though you can see how reluctant he was to leave you, rushing off to the kitchen.
You relaxed back into the bed, you and the sheets surrounding you probably stunk of sweat, but fear not, you knew for a fact you’d find John burying his nose in them later, proclaiming how good you smelt, you didn’t know which was more embarrassing.
John might be clingy, reliant and a little odd, but he truly did care, always trying his hardest to please you and make you happy despite not understanding that most people don’t want to be gifted organs, he tried.
You loved him, and he made it quite obvious how much he loved you back, his sharp yellow teeth always bared in a grin whenever his large eyes were on you, and they were always on you, whether you realise it or not.
And you kept that swirling in the back of your mind when the sound of the fire alarms blare, your stomach cramps painfully when you jump up from bed.
Running through the door, you hunched over and kept your arm around your uterus as you made way to the kitchen, desperately searching for your boyfriend.
And there he was, unharmed thankfully, leaned over a sizzling frying pan, your heat pack catching fire where it rested against the smouldering metal, the smoke wafting straight into the alarm on the roof.
“Dearest!” He cried while he turned to you, ignoring the newly-fiery heat pack cooking like an egg, “What’re you doing up?—“
He cut himself off with a loud, feral hiss when water shot down from the roof, he launched for any sort of cover from the offensive roof rain while making deranged cat noises.
Maybe next time, you should just suck it up and get it yourself, less you want your house burnt down.
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masuchu · 5 months
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“𝐙𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒” [BSD MEN]
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what happens when the bsd men’s gf gets zoomies? ‧₊˚
genre. fluff !! kinda silly ngl . perhaps ooc but idk
characters. dazai, chuuya & fyodor
love, masu. this has been rotting in my drafts for sooooo long!! i polished it off and i love it now!! it’s a very stupid idea, but who even cares
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(大哉) 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 ‧₊˚
Zoomies are contagious for this man. When you start sprinting around your shared apartment for absolutely no apparent reason, he questions nothing and joins you.
As much as he finds it amusing to sit back and watch you run around like a toddler, he feels the childish longing to join you bubbling up inside him.
When you crash into things? He crashes into them too! You’ll clean later, for now, he’s perfectly content to copy your strange antics.
However, he can only last so long running around like a lunatic. He will be worn out by the end of your spree!
“Bella, how are you still going? I feel like I’m going to die…”
You halted your movements and peered down amused at your heaving boyfriend, strewn out clumsily on your sofa.
“Aw, can’t keep up Samu’?” You teasingly muttered against your lover’s lips, much too close to escape without being gripped firmly and ambushed with kisses.
“Haha! Leave me alone!” You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips teasing all around your face.
“So long as you stay here with me and stop giving yourself whiplash~”
You giggled again. “For you.”
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(中也) 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 ‧₊˚
Oh my god, not a day goes by where you don’t severely decrease the concentration of braincells in this man’s head.
When suddenly begin to dart around his million dollar apartment with seemingly zero spacial nor social awareness, you actually stun him.
Jaw dropped, eyes switching from wide to squinted every few seconds, completely and utterly speechless.
What the fuck were you doing?? This man loves you with every fibre of his being, every inch of his soul— however, sometimes you really do make him question if you were, well, okay.
When he gets over his initial shock, he shakes his head and pretends it never happened. He may chuckle and call you something along the lines of ‘damn weirdo’, but he really does love you and your oddness!
Your heavy breaths are all that can be heard throughout the room, hands on your hips in attempt to allow more oxygen into your lungs.
“Ah! I’m so tired, what are you drink— Why are you looking at me like that?”
You finally take notice of your boyfriend’s humorously perplexed stare, and shake your head at his expression.
“What on earth was that?!”
“What was what?”
Chuuya blink twice and lets his head fall back, allowing a mix of a groan and a laugh to escape his lips.
“Forget about it.”
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(费奥多尔) 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 ‧₊˚
Fyodor tends to allow you to do your thing in these situations.
He understands you aren’t looking for attention, your nerves are just going haywire. So long as you don’t break anything or kill anyone (anyone important, at least), he is perfectly content with carrying on with his work and leaving you to your devices.
That is, until you do break something.
The torment you put this man through is humorous, considering his occupation and life goals. He prays he may live one day without something happening.
“What, exactly, am I looking at?”
You look down at the shattered vase on the floor, and let out a shaky laugh. A laugh that was more of a ‘shit! I am in trouble’ rather than a ‘this is very funny’.
“Urm. Well, I sort of crashed into the table. And then, it kind of, very much fell off and shattered.”
A moment that was much too long for you liking passed by painfully. You shuffled from foot to foot, and placed you gaze anywhere but your lovers face. It was not in Fyodor’s nature to feel empathy, but he didn’t care about the vase. And he supposed it would be a hassle to deal with you in an apologetic and guilty state…
“It is fine, I didn’t care for it much. Though, please refrain from destroying any more of my ceramics when you continue… doing whatever you were doing.”
“I will try. And it’s called ‘zoomies’!”
“….Right.”
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2024 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!
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ranhaitanisgf · 6 months
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Hi 👋. Can I have “enemies to lover” and “stuck together” head canons with Ran. They get handcuffed together by their friends. And are forced to spend the day together. And they both realize they aren’t as bad as they thought. Since they were only ‘enemies’ due to some misunderstandings. Maybe reader has to go through her schedule and Ran just in a forced to tag along. So they go grocery shopping, he sees her taking care of siblings, etc. Ran teases her a lot as well. Thanks!
— ran haitani // enemies to lovers // stuck together
[𖤐] haii i once again just cranked this out w/o thinkin abt it sawr. idk !! i am so tired rn i cant even tell if this is good but wtv lmk if its good or not lol. i hope you all enjoy xoxo !
wc ; 1.8k+
masterlist || 2k masterlist
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❥ when you felt something cold and metal click on your wrist as you were getting ready to leave school, you were certainly not expecting to come face to face with ran haitani, and you were especially not expecting for the thing around your wrist to be a pair of handcuffs, the other end being attached to his own wrist. when you glanced at the people next to him, you could only sigh, seeing his brother and your best friend grinning devilishly, (you swore you’d only seen that look on rindou’s face when he was beating someone up, which seemed unlucky for you somehow). 
“can you guys stop fucking around and take these off? i have things to do.”  “heyyy, that’s so mean to me, (y/n)! i’ll come by your place and take them off at the end of the day, but for now they’re staying on! you’ll thank me later!”  “what?! get back here-! ugh, already gone…” 
❥ you stood there for a few moments, wondering if you should just drag ran along with you and chase after the pair until they let the two of you go. you’re not really concerned about whatever is on ran’s schedule for the day, but you’re more worried about how you have to get all of my responsibilities done. you have to go to the grocery store, pick up tonight’s dinner, cook dinner, help with your sibling’s homework, do your own homework, and one of them ask for you to bake something for their school? that was also going to take time, but maybe-
“hellooo, earth to (y/n)? you there?”  “yeah, i was just thinking. you heard of it?” “guys would probably like you more if you were cute instead of so aggressive, y’know~”  “do you ever shut up about stupid shit for more than two seconds? you know what, don’t even answer that. i have stuff to do that’s more important than your stuff, so let’s go.” 
❥ on the walk to the grocery store, you heard quite a number of complaints from ran about how ‘he’s a busy guy’ and ‘i’ve got stuff to take care of too!’, but frankly, you just dragged him along anyways. you knew that if there was anything seriously important on his schedule that he would probably be more serious, but given the teasing tone of his voice, you completely ignored him. 
❥ walking through the aisles of the grocery store was a bit of a challenge given the special circumstances, especially with the fact that ran was like some kind of child, popping random snacks into the cart when you weren’t looking. it didn’t help that the two of you received some very strange looks, people whispering about god knows what as you walked by, (you could never come back here). 
“what’s with all this stuff you’re getting anyways?”  “for my siblings.”  “you have siblings? how many?” “three younger; two brothers and a sister.” 
❥ there wasn’t a whole lot of serious talking during the shopping trip aside from that, but you noticed that ran seemed very pensive when he learned that information. you probably would have thought about his sudden seriousness a bit more if you weren’t very eager to get out of this store, (though you had to admit, he was somewhat cute when he was serious). 
❥ the walk to your home proved to be just a tad bit awkward; there wasn’t a whole lot of words exchanged between the two of you. you weren’t sure what you were even supposed to say given the situation, so you just decided to stay quiet, which is what ran had seemingly also decided. at least, until he suddenly spoke up. 
“do you do this everyday?”  “hm? yeah, on days when i’m not working.” “working? isn’t there some school rule that you can’t have a job?”  “yeah, that’s why i work in yokohama.” “yokohama?!”  “yep.”
❥ for the next few minutes there was no other words spoken, but he grabbed some of the grocery bags out of your hands, carrying a couple more bags than you were. 
❥ this was one of the only times you had ever seen him this serious, and it was throwing you a bit off. he was usually the stark opposite of serious, so to see this new side to him made you wonder what he could be hiding. just a moment after you turned the idea over in your head, the teasing tone was back in ran’s voice. 
“so, you’re finally able to be seen with me in public, hm~ how does it feel?”  “what’re you talking about?”  “just so you know, it isn’t cute to play dumb, sweetcheeks.”  “um, seriously, what are you talking about?” 
❥ you’re still unsure of how to feel about the words exchanged between the two of you during the rest of the walk; honestly, you had always disliked him because of the way that he disregarded the fact that he was quite privileged to be able to attend school and therefore almost never attended, but you’d never hated him for something small like that. and sure, maybe you thought it was stupid that he was always beating people up, but to be honest, it wasn’t exactly any of your business in the first place, so why would you care? 
❥ he revealed to you in short time that he had been informed that you were embarrassed to be seen with him at all, which was why he disliked you, (you never recalled even thinking such a thing, so you were really questioning the source of his information). 
❥ he’d even acknowledged the points you’d told him about school, ran even mentioning that he was trying to catch up on his studies so that he could maybe still graduate with the rest of the grade, (the amount of work he had missed was incomparable to any other student aside from rindou). 
❥ you felt a little bit relieved when the two of you arrived at your house, entirely because you didn’t want to think too much about ran haitani right now. you have other priorities, and thinking about ran haitani can wait until later. 
❥ when you opened the door and slid your shoes off, you could hear the pitter-patter of little footsteps running to the front door. your siblings all ran for you, wrapping themselves around your legs and hugging your side as they all talked at once. 
“i missed you so much!”  “school today was so boring, and at lunch-” “what’s for dinnerrrrr, i’m sooooo hungry!” 
❥ despite all of the overlapping of the sentences, you still responded to each one of your siblings with patience and kindness, making ran’s heart skip a few beats, (he’s ignoring why). 
❥ when your siblings asked about the boy next to you, you just said that he was ‘some guy from school’, but the teasing wink you sent his way did something to him. he had only ever seen the side of you that was always slightly annoyed with him, so this was truly the first time he had ever seen you even somewhat outside of this norm. 
❥ he thought it was pretty nice :)
❥ he helped you set all the groceries on the counter, even taking them out of the bags and handing the cold items to you as you put them in refrigerator. the sudden change in the relationship between the two of you did feel a little bit weird, but it was somehow in the best way possible. as you cooked dinner, the playful banter between the two of you as he watched you cook and helped with prepping ingredients was honestly refreshing, which was something you never thought you would think about ran haitani. 
“hmm, i bet i can shop a carrot faster than you~”  “oh really? you realize i’ve been chopping carrots for a long time?”  “you’re not the only one who cooks dinner around here, doll.”  “okay then, you’re on!” 
❥ maybe it was the fact that you were both older sibling’s, but you somehow felt like he was so understanding of the situation. despite the fact that the both of you were forced to be together after school, here he was, helping you cook dinner for your family and not trying to pull apart the handcuffs, (you had to admit though, it was a challenge to cook with only one hand). 
❥ you also had to admit that seeing ran interact with your younger siblings during dinner completely warmed your heart; his charm was turned up all the way, but with the best intentions possible. he was indulging in all the random talk about their current interests and hobbies, and he even offered to teach one of your younger brothers how to skateboard!
❥ after dinner, you helped out with any homework you could while you did your own homework, telling ran off at the fact that he didn’t collect the homework assignments that he had missed in the past couple of weeks, (he took a couple looks at your paper and what you were working on, then immediately shook his head and said, ‘next time, maybe…’). 
❥ after your siblings were asleep, the two of you even had a blast baking the brownies for your younger sister’s school event! at one point, he threw a handful of flour at you, leaving you covered in the white powder. you both stood there shocked, ran looking at you with a shocked look on his face as if he wasn’t expecting that outcome at all. 
❥ and so went to get your revenge. 
❥ your hand dipped into the container of flour throwing it right back at him, even going so far as to rub it all over his scalp so that his dark roots were now white. you were a bit unnerved by how good he looked when he was laughing, and how melodious his voice was, especially when he was calling your name- stop! what are you even thinking right now?!
❥ the fight eventually died down when the amount of space between the two of you was suddenly very small, both of you slowing down your actions and stopping, looking at each other, (was there some kind of drug in his gaze? why can’t you look away?)
“y’see somethin’ you like?” “w-what?! no! i mean, i was just, i wasn’t even-” “relax, relax, i’m just teasing. you should’ve seen your face though; it was pretty cute~”
❥ and with that, he just continued on with baking the brownies, acting as if what he just said was completely normal. somehow, this technique worked on you, since you also just pretended like nothing happened, though you didn’t step away when you realized the two of you were standing arm to arm at the counter. 
❥ even though you were pretending that nothing had happened, you couldn’t deny the butterflies you felt in your stomach, courtesy of ran haitani of all people, (if somebody had told you this morning what would happen, you would have called them a bumbling liar). 
❥ maybe being temporarily attached to him wasn’t so bad…
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dearly-somber · 6 months
Text
Twister | j.jk
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-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)
-> genre. slow burn, eventual romance, fluff, humor, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, found family, high school!au, eventual smut
-> w/c. 1180
-> rating. 13+
-> a/n. Devil All The Time is an actual book I read, and, to this day, it’s still one of my all-time favorites. The excerpt at the beginning is also real!
-> warnings. None!!
-> collection. mini-series
-> started. Aug. 16th, 2022 @ 15:00
-> fin. Sat., Sept. 16th, 2023 @ 16:59
-> edited. Mon., Oct. 30th, 2023 @ 23:03
-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn
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Unless he had whiskey running through his veins, Willard came to the clearing every morning and evening to talk to God. Arvin didn't know which was worse, the drinking or the praying. As far back as he could remember, it seemed that his father had fought the Devil all the time—
Someone knocks on Jungkook’s door. You look up from your book (The Devil All The Time by Donald Ray Pollock) and smile smugly at Yoongi as he stands in the doorway, a grumpy pout on his face. “Can I help you?” you ask saccharinely.
He grumbles something you don’t catch before saying, “We’re playing Twisters downstairs.”
You gasp dramatically. “Am I dreaming or are you actually being nice to me for once?”
He growls low in his throat. “Don’t push your luck, human.”
You set your book face-down and skip past him, bounding downstairs with a smug grin. “I’m not leaving anytime soon, Boongles, so you better get used to it!”
“What did you just—“
“Y/N!” Jungkook’s face breaks out into a blinding smile as you enter the living room a few paces in front of Yoongi, his metaphorical tail wagging excitedly.
“Hey, Kook. I heard you’re thinking about me,” you tease, gently patting his back when he rolls his eyes and pulls you in for a hug. As you pull away, you ask, “So! How are we doing this?”
“I was thinking teams, since it’s only four of us playing,” Hoseok says, looking up from where he’s slung an arm around a still-grumpy Yoongi’s shoulders. “We can have two players move during one spin, and the other two the next, that way we can take turns so it’s not too chaotic.”
“The others aren’t playing?” you ask, kind of disappointed. Oh, the amount of chaos there would’ve been if more of them had joined you.
Jungkook shakes his head no. “They’re not feeling it. We convinced Jisoo noona to spin for us, though.”
Jisoo walks in from the kitchen with a glass of red wine in hand. She smiles amicably at you as she takes a seat. “Hey, Y/N. How’s the book so far?”
“Good, thanks.” You turn back to the others. “I assume JK and I are gonna be in a team, then?”
Hoseok grins mischievously as he shares a strange look with Jungkook, saying, “Told you. It’s me and you, hyung.” Hoseok smiles down at Yoongi, who sighs his acceptance.
“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbles.
You turn to look at Jungkook, who quickly tries to hide a dopey smile. “Why? What did Hobi oppa tell you?”
“Shh.” He turns you back to the mat with his hands on your shoulders. “Focus on winning.”
“Alright!” Jisoo sets her glass down and picks up the wheel. “First spin!” She flicks the plastic arrow, waiting a few seconds for the outcome before calling out, “Right foot, yellow!”
“You go,” you tell Jungkook. He nods, dropping his hands from your shoulders and taking a confident step forward as Yoongi does the same.
“Next… Right leg, blue!”
🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕
In hindsight, Jungkook should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve known Hoseok was trying to set him up from the second he asked if “angel” would be joining them for Twister, even though Jungkook had been more than content to let her stay in his room a little longer. (His complacency with her absence had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that her scent was getting on his sheets.)
Now, with Y/N bending in front of him in a makeshift downward-dog and only one viable option for his next callout (right foot, blue), Jungkook wants to smack his head against a wall. He’d have to move his leg halfway across the mat, so he wouldn’t have any balance.
Unless, of course, he held onto Y/N’s hips.
Twister was a cursed game and he’d never play again.
“Jungkook, you gotta make your move in the next five seconds or else you’re out,” Jisoo warns.
He panics and shifts his foot farther out than he meant to, holding onto Y/N’s hips as his balance gives out and thanking whatever god is out there that Y/N can’t see the disgustingly bright pink hue dusting his cheeks with her ass so close to his crotch.
“You’re gonna make me fall!” Y/N complains, teetering forward. He tightens his grip on her hips and pulls her back ever so slightly. Hopefully he won’t get a boner. Gods, that would be embarrassing.
“Just—focus on your next move!” he half-yells, mouthing a curse at Hoseok, who was knocked out almost five minutes ago and is now standing smugly off to the side trying to contain his laughter. Asshole.
“Stupid game,” Y/N grumbles under her breath, her arms shaking.
“Left hand, red,” Jisoo announces.
Y/N grunts as she moves her hand closer to her body, unintentionally pressing into Jungkook. He bites down on his tongue and focuses on his breathing as blood rushes to his cheeks.
Yoongi huffs as he crouches and sets his hand on the red circle closest to him, grinning up at them with a dark look. “It’s over for you,” he taunts.
“Alright, Kook. Left hand, green,” Jisoo says.
Jungkook crouches down and sets his hand behind him, making eye contact with Y/N for the first time in almost ten minutes straight. “Next time—“
Y/N gets cut off with a yelp as, on their next turn, Yoongi bumps into her and sends her falling back into Jungkook’s lap. He groans, his hands shaking with the effort to keep himself up.
“Asshole! You pushed me!” Y/N yells, her ears turning red with rage as she pushes herself off Jungkook, about to angrily rush Yoongi when Hoseok picks her up around the waist and holds her off to the side with an arm around her shoulders.
“Now-now, kids, no fighting,” he teases.
“Beat his ass, Kook!” Y/N says in response, glaring at Yoongi.
Yoongi rolls his eyes as the game continues. The longer Jungkook has to play, the more tired he becomes—holding weird positions for long periods of time is surprisingly taxing. Just when he thinks he’s going to give out, Yoongi’s sweaty hands slide to the side and he ends up falling over, ass in the air.
Y/N squeals with excitement and rushes Jungkook as he stands up to his full height, massaging his lower back with a grimace. He oofs as she slams into him, her arms around his neck. He blushes and hides his face in her shoulder, trying to subtly breathe in her scent as she drops down before excitedly smacking him on his arm.
He smiles down at her and avoids looking at Hoseok (who he’s sure is having his own little mini-celebration) as Yoongi sighs as he stands up. “Well played,” he grumbles.
Y/N grins triumphantly, but holds her hand out for him to shake. “Good game.” Yoongi hesitates, but takes her hand. Y/N grins. “How does it feel losing to a human?”
“Gods have mercy…”
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caffedrine · 8 days
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Azel Radwan - The Beast’s Love is Unstoppable - Event Summary
This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.
Azel, the Living God of Tanzanite and Emma’s lover is not an honest person. He often says, ‘I don’t love you’ and ‘I am not in love with you’ and has never said anything else. However, Emma knows that words aren’t everything when it comes to him.
As she sits on the steps of a dilapidated temple and gazes at the moon dominating the night sky, a shadow falls over her. With an exasperated expression on his face, Azel asks what Emma is doing out here.
Emma explains that she wanted to go for a walk, and Azel wonders since when has she developed the bizarre interest in walking through wastelands. Emma points out the moon, remarking that she will never grow bored of looking at the Tanaznite moon.
Azel tells her that is a stupid excuse, and worse yet, she is wasting her time out here. Scoffing, he settles down next to her, obviously not intending to leave her alone. Emma asks if he came out just to look for her.
Azel denies this, he only came out looking for fresh air. Emma asks what he was just saying about walking through wastelands, but Azel corrects her. He is going on patrol. Emma decides to drop it. She knows no matter what Azel says otherwise, he would not spend time with her if he didn’t like her.
Shifting closer to Azel, Emma apologizes and explains that she’s cold, and then snuggles up next to him. She smiles a little and remarks that he feels warm.
Azel refuses this and stands up as if he was planning on running away from her. Instead, he circles behind her and settles down, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He explains that this is more efficient at comforting her, and not to worry, he’ll collect the fee for warming her up later. Emma agrees, telling him to look forward to tomorrow’s breakfast.
With his arms wrapped around her midsection, Emma leans back against Azel, wondering why he doesn’t want to admit that this is love, no matter how close they are together. She turns her head, meeting Azel’s gaze.
God’s eyes are a mysterious color, making her think of starry skies, and draw her in. Azel asks why she’s so interested in his eyes, and Emma admits that she still hasn’t figured out what their color is.
Azel insists that it doesn’t matter what color his eyes are, but Emma is serious. She wonders if she could call it a dreamy color. Azel complains that she’s using girly names for his eyes. Emma grumbles, wondering if his eye color will ever be given a name.
Emma continues to look at Azel, who remains silent. Rather, their faces are drawing closer and closer. Suddenly Azel remarks that he has often been told that he’s strange, but when she looks at him like this . . .
The stary-sky color comes closer to Emma, and their lips touch. Emma’s eyes widen with shock, and Azel complains that the atmosphere between them was telling him to kiss her. Emma disagrees, it wasn’t that atmosphere at all. Emma turns her head away, only to hear evil laughter from behind her.
Emma asks why he kissed her all of the sudden, and Azel insists that it’s just a physical desire. Emma disagrees, but Azel insists that there are many mysteries about the human body that have yet to be unearthed.
This isn’t a mystery. It’s love.
Azel begs Emma not to mix up physical and emotional ties. Even as he denies being in love, he doesn’t stop touching Emma and pokes the back of her neck. Emma lets out a strange noise, and Azel laughs again. Emma turns around and smacks him in the chest.
Azel tells Emma to stop hitting him, otherwise he might kiss her again.
Emma asks if God has always had a flair for physical desires, and Azel reminds her that this god is a human too.
Maybe some gods only feel the physical desire, but from Azel’s expression, Emma could tell that this went far beyond a physical connection.
The longer Emma stays with Azel, the more she feels a sense of immorality, as if she’s defiling something sacred. As she stares into his eyes, Azel grabs her chin. He assures her that she can look into his eyes as long as she likes. In return, he will kiss her as much as he likes.
Maybe Azel should thank his eyes.
The kiss that starts out with them barely touching each other morphs into one full of lust. Even though Azel usually has a pure and holy expression, when he’s with her it melts away to one of base instincts.
In between kisses, Azel’s hand slides down Emma’s waist. His hand caresses her back through her nightgown, running over her shoulders, and bringing out all sorts of immoral feelings. Azel’s tongue flicks along her mouth, and Emma’s stomach grows hot. She asks Azel to hold on, it’s too intense.
Full of false sympathy, Azel asks if Emma has forgotten to breathe, which she has. Poor thing, he thought she was better at this. Just before he can dive back in, Emma covers Azel’s mouth with her hands. Nope, they need to take a break from kissing.
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(Azel just wants to kiss only Emma, spend time with only Emma, and sleep with only Emma. Totally no feels)
Emma gasps and jumps when Azel’s tongue runs along the palm of her hands. He takes the distraction to remove her hands from his mouth.
Emma grumbles that the feeling of wanting to kiss someone is considered ‘love’. Azel disagrees, he’s not thinking of something so horrible and crazy as love when he’s with her. He just feels selfish.
Seriously, he’s not in love with her.
Emma decides to leave it be, thinking that one day, she’ll have to show him a mirror so he can see the love in his reflection.
99 notes · View notes
bookshelf-dust · 7 months
Text
community service
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ghostface!billy hargrove x fem!reader
word count: 3,714
warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, being drunk, drunk driving, domestic abuse (super small mention), rather violent and descriptive murder, literally this is just murder, slight suggestive ideas
a/n: hi!! look at me! i remembered how to write! anyway. this fic has been in the drafts for months, but here it is. one of the kills is inspired by a kill from scream 2, and another is from *i think* the first season of chucky. anyway. it’s not gonna be for everyone! it’s dark and fucked up and kinda questionable. but it’s also for my masked men lovers. i see you. i am you. i hope you enjoy!! i love you!! <333
other ghostface! au’s: steddie & eddie
————
You check your watch for what seems like the millionth time, only for a few minutes to have passed since the last time you looked. Billy is late again, but at least now you know why. 
You hadn’t been stupid enough to think he was having an affair, not when you know so much better than that. When you know he’d do anything for you. 
The longer you sit here, the more unfocused your eyes get, and you start to think about everything you’ve realized over the past week. Part of you has known for longer. You just didn’t want to overanalyze this, not like you do everything else. 
You hoped he’d come to you. But clearly he wants to keep this to himself. 
He’d been doing well, too, up until you found the smear of blood inside the bathroom cabinet. He’d pranced around the room half-naked that night after his shower, so you knew he wasn’t the one who’d been injured.
Last week you decided to clean out the closet on your day off. You remembered a pair of shoes that you hadn’t seen in forever, and began looking through all the boxes buried in the corners, under piles of clothes discarded in a rush to get ready. 
You’d pulled the lid off a surprisingly light box, only to find a mask. One you’d seen in costume stores, at Halloween parties. On the news. 
And you just knew. 
There hadn’t ever been an instance where he’d worn it. None of his simple Halloween costumes ever required a mask. He hadn’t ever worn it for you, even if you’d like that much more than you’re sure is normal. 
What’s more concerning is that this realization–it didn’t scare you. You aren’t scared now, sitting in the living room, waiting for him to come home, knowing exactly what he’s been up to. He probably thinks you’re in bed by now, anticipating him joining you. 
Instead, you sit curled in a chair, socked feet tucked up under you. Your body is tired, you can feel as much, but your mind won’t rest until you’ve taken care of this. 
It’s then, when you’re starting to get sick of waiting, that you hear the sound of heavy footsteps, thick-soled boots bounding up the front stairs. Your spine straightens, eyes glued to the way the lock turns with a twist of his key, his shadow as it spills across the floor when he walks inside. 
Billy isn’t surprised to see the living room glowing in a yellow light. You usually leave it on for him anyway. What he’s not expecting is to see you sitting in your chair, chin resting on your hand, as you watch him remove his jacket. 
“What are you doing up so late, baby?” 
You don’t move, just keep your eyes on him as he walks towards you. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, a very tight one, and it occurs to you that you haven’t seen his arms in a little while. They’re bigger. You’re sure of it. 
“It’s only eleven forty-five,” you say. 
He laughs, dropping gently to his knees in front of you, hands going to rest on your own. He presses a kiss to the top of your bare thigh. 
“You’re usually in bed by now.”
He kisses your knee, lips warm against your skin except for where the cold metal of his new piercing touches you. It’s healed, but still strange to see him with it after all this time.
“Wanted to see you.”
Billy is in love with you. And that means he knows you like the back of his hand. So this, the way you’ve sat out here for him, that sad but almost frustrated look in your eye, it tells him everything he needs to know.
It tells him that you know. 
You’re a very intelligent woman. You’re his smart girl, and he knew you’d figure it out sooner or later. He’d only kept it from you because he knew you’d worry. Knew you’d overthink it and make yourself crazy. He just wanted you to have some peace of mind. But clearly that hasn’t worked out so well.
“And ask you something,” you continue, reaching down to twist one of his curls around your finger.
There it is. 
“Shoot.” Billy wraps his hands around the backs of your knees, fingertips still chilly from the cool night air. His grip is soft, but still possessive. 
You rub your nose, look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath.
“When were you gonna let me in on your little secret?”
You can feel his breath on your bare legs when he exhales. He tilts his head and presses his cheek gently against your knee. 
“Look at me,” he says, voice firm. You oblige. 
“It feels kind of shitty that you kept it from me. That I only found out because I decided to be productive for once and do a little cleaning. We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other, Billy. That’s what makes this work.”
When you’ve finished, he straightens his back and pushes off the floor. He’s looming over you now. It doesn’t intimidate you, even if it should. If other people might be scared of him. 
That’s what he’s stuck on. You’re not scared. You’re not angry about what he’s doing. You’re concerned about fucking communication. 
He leans down and sets his hands against the armrests of your chair. You have no choice but to look him in the eye. 
“You’re my girl. It’s a crazy world out there.” He lifts one hand and runs his thumb underneath your eye before removing it again. “I gotta keep you safe.”
You drop your head back against the chair. “Jesus christ, Billy. This goes both ways. I want to take care of you just like you do for me. I don’t think it’s fair that you kept this to yourself when I could’ve helped you deal with it, I don’t know.”
He doesn’t scoff. He doesn’t even quirk a brow. He’s taking you seriously, just like always.
“What, you wanna clean me up or somethin’?”
You’re quiet. He rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek. 
“You know the answer to that.”
Billy takes your chin in his hand. “I apologize for not telling you earlier. I didn’t want to worry you. It takes awhile to get back from Hawkins, that’s why I’ve been home so late. Work was just an excuse.”
“Hawkins?”
He kisses you, mouth slotting against your own. The way he sucks on your bottom lip leaves you feeling dazed, though you know that’s exactly why he does it. Just to see the look in your eye. He should’ve known you’d take this well.
“Yeah. ‘Lotta shit left behind back there. Best to do some community service while I can, don’t you think?”
There’s a bruise on his bicep, dark in the dim lighting of your living room. 
“Yeah, Billy. I think so.”
————
The phone hooked to the wall in Jason’s office starts to ring. He rolls his eyes. Anyone important enough would know what time of day it is, and that means he’s busy. 
Jason stands still at the altar, flipping through the last few pages of notes he made for his next service. He checks his watch, noting that he should start confessionals soon. His shoulders rise and fall, steady breaths filling his lungs. 
The phone keeps ringing, and it’s starting to make him angry. He stops what he’s doing and stomps out in the hall, stepping just far enough inside the small room to answer the phone.
“What?”
The line is silent, but someone is on the other side, and he knows it. 
“Hello? What do you want?”
He hears someone inhale. “Why don’t you lose the attitude, Carver? Still haven’t gotten that stick outta your ass?”
Jason puts the phone in his other hand. 
“Excuse me? Who is this?”
“No need to worry about that, Pastor Carver. Now, would you like to play a game, Jason?”
The blonde rubs a hand over his forehead. What is he, five?
“No. I have a job to do. Grow up.” He hangs up the phone, slamming it back in its place before walking back out. 
Jason is older now. Went to community college, pursued ministry. He always knew that’s where he would end up. It’s what he deserves. It gives him great power, preaching. 
Not that a damn word that comes out of his mouth isn’t bullshit. 
But this is what he is good at. He will not be teased. He is important, and he knows it. 
He collects his notes from where he’d set them on the altar, picks up his personalized Bible, slips the cap back onto his pen. 
The confessional booth is set up in the corner, against the wall with the biggest window. He thinks it’s the most beautiful spot in the church, what with the way the stain glass plays across the floor. 
He enters the booth, thumb entwining in the chain around his neck. When Jason started his work, he’d taken part in confessionals much more often. Now that he’s so committed, he has to schedule a specific time period where people can come in. 
And he knows they will. They always do. People praise Pastor Carver for being so wise, for guiding them in the right direction, into the right hands.
But he doesn’t take kindly to criticism. He knows what he’s doing. He was made for this. Now he can protect people like him from the people he went to high school with. Now he has real power.
There’s some light shuffling coming from the other side of the booth. Did someone come in? Maybe he didn’t hear them over that stupid phone call. He shouldn’t have answered. 
“Hello? Is someone there?”
He’s met with silence. He listens, but there’s nothing. He knows he heard something. He’s still young, in perfect health. He doesn’t make mistakes like that.
“We can begin whenever you’re ready,” he says, wondering if maybe whoever is in the other booth might be shy. If maybe they’re a new member of the church congress.
Still he gets no response. He doesn’t like being ignored. What is with people today? 
Jason presses the side of his face against the wood, trying to hear through the small gaps. They’re not wide enough to see through clearly, but he gets a glance at something moving. He knew it. He hears the shuffle again, temper rising.
“Listen, If you’re not gonna—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. A knife, with a freshly sharpened blade, slices through that cheap wood, settling in his cheek. He can’t speak. The metal scrapes against his teeth. If he were to try, he’d certainly lose his tongue. 
Blood fills his mouth, and his ears start to ring. He can’t breathe, can’t hear. When the knife is yanked back, pulled maliciously from his face, he’s so completely shocked that he falls, brain malfunctioning. Shutting down, surely. 
Quick and easy was best for someone like Jason Carver. Such a big fuckin’ mouth. Never using it for any good, only to push his corrupt agenda on others—like he’s some god. 
He should’ve played the damn game. Maybe Billy ought to forego the phone calls and get eight to it. Seems that being blunt is the only way to get through to these assholes. 
Wiping his knife off against his robe, Billy steps out of the booth and walks around to Jason’s side. The man sits on the floor, slumped against the seat. His eyes are open, but he’s lost too much blood to be able to form a retort. 
Billy leans down, grabbing at the chain around Jason’s neck. The blonde tries to grab for this mysterious figure's arm, tries to do anything, but it doesn’t matter. 
The chain breaks easily, gold cross standing out against his gloved hand. He tucks it into his pocket. Such a waste of space, this guy. So fucking pretentious. 
Billy has never been happier to take out the trash. 
————
When Billy gets home, he’s pissed. Mainly because he’s dirty. Carver was a bleeder, got that shit everywhere. It’s on the hem of his robe, caked onto his shoe where he had to step up and get the necklace off. 
But more so, he’s pissed that he has to be the one to do this. That people are so blind to the shit storm around them. 
He kicks the back door shut behind him. 
“Billy?” Your voice calls out to him. 
“Headin’ to the bathroom, sweet thing.” He hears you hop off the bed and pad down the hall. 
You’re such a fuckin’ sweetheart. He can’t believe it. 
You walk into the bathroom the moment he throws the mask down on the toilet seat, blood staining the white material. You watch him put his shoes and the robe in the tub. 
He spins around, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, baby. How’s my girl?”
You meet him halfway for a kiss. “I’m okay. Are you?”
“Better now that I’m with you. Listen, can you do me a favor, sugar?”
You nod. 
“In the back of the closet, you know where, there’s a little jewelry box. Can you bring it in here?”
“Of course.”
He winks at you, tying his curls up on the top of his head. “Be quick.”
When you return, he opens the box, and your heart drops at the sheer amount of jewelry inside. But the longer you look, the more you realize what this is.
He’s kept something from everyone. There are rings. Chains. Keyrings. Holy shit. There’s a pair of earrings that look like some Karen Wheeler used to wear. Something very expensive looking, like only a Harrington would have. There’s a lighter, too. With the last name Byers engraved on it. 
You stop gawking when Billy tosses the cross necklace inside. He’s almost done. And when he is, you’ll both get out of here. He’s gonna give you such a good life. You just don’t know his plans yet. 
“It’s so much safer without them here, you know that, baby?”
Billy looks you in the eye. You push a curl back behind his ear. 
“I know. You do such a good job, Billy.”
————
Tommy Hagan has been a piece of shit since elementary school, and he’s destined to be one for the rest of his life. 
He works at a car dealership, still in Hawkins, still drinking and pretending like he’s seventeen. He peaked in high school, and everyone knows it. Shit, he knows it, and that’s why he’s still clinging to this lifestyle, even when no one else has. 
Fucking Steve Harrington even got his ass out of Hawkins, and that’s saying something. Tommy thought Steve would be there for the rest of his life, raising that stupid family he blabbed about, sending the kids to the same schools, but no.
Even Carol left. The woman he should have married. The chick he treated like shit after they graduated, all because he wasn’t ready to grow up–and she was. 
He’s still not ready. Not as he sits in his living room, alone because his wife went to stay with her sister. He’s been drinking out of his ass lately, and the other night, he put his hands on her. Tommy isn’t even sure he cares, if he’s honest with himself. 
He’s an insecure asshole. He was in high school, and Billy saw the way he treated you because you were quiet. Saw the way he spoke to Carol when they were alone, the way he’d corner other girls at football games or parties, even when Carol was looking for him. 
It doesn’t matter who he married. Not really. Tommy Hagan was destined to become a deadbeat wife-beater, and he’d never have had the initiative to change that. 
He finishes the beer he’s been nursing and pushes off the couch, heading for the kitchen to find another.
He tosses the bottle into the garbage can rather than the recycling, and it seems to hit hard enough that it shatters inside the trash bag. He shrugs it off. It’s not like he ever takes it out anyway. 
Tommy pulls the refrigerator door open, metal handle cool under his fingertips. That was his last beer.
“Y’gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
He slams the door closed, the rattling of jars and bottles inside echoing throughout the quiet room. He presses his forehead against the wall, thinking. Shit, if he can’t drink, he might as well eat something.
There’s a TV dinner in the freezer. He pulls it out, shoving it in the microwave as quickly as possible.
Something else that hasn’t changed: how fucking impatient Tommy is. He can’t even handle waiting the two minutes required for his food.
He opens drawers, trying to find the silverware before realizing it’s all dirty. He can’t believe this shit. 
He yanks open the dishwasher and pulls out the bottom rack. The microwave starts to beep though, and Tommy backs off for a moment to retrieve his dinner. 
With how loud the beeping was, he didn’t hear anyone approach. Didn’t hear the floorboards creak. Didn’t realize that there was someone lurking behind him.
He removes the TV dinner and wipes his hands down his face. “Fuckin’ hell.”
He bends down once more, reaching for a knife so that he’ll be able to cut up his tiny steak. 
He doesn’t expect to be shoved, not in the safety of his own home. And he’s certainly not quick enough or to be able to prevent it himself from stumbling, tripping, unable to catch himself. He yells out, but there’s no one else to hear it. 
He grabs for the counter, but it’s much too slippery with that fucking vinyl countertop. He’s got no chance. 
Tommy Hagan falls forward. When he realizes where he’s headed, what his body is falling over, he thinks for a moment that he should try and brace himself for the fall. But it’s no use. Nothing about his situation is providing him a way out. 
His body collides with the silverware basket, into every knife and fork standing there. Like they were waiting for him.
It’s happened so fast that he can’t even scream. All that comes out is a strangled moan. He’s bleeding and he can feel it. He can hear the footsteps behind him, and he tries to reach for the floor, tries to push up and twist to see who’s done this to him. His hand slips in the mess, but he doesn’t have to do much when someone is pulling his hair, using it as leverage to yank him up. The knives below him scrape and drag, his skin tugging in unnatural ways. 
Tommy coughs, blood filling his mouth. He can’t speak. He can’t do the one thing he’s good at: open that big mouth. 
The masked figure looming over him grabs his other hand, causing him to press further into the silverware. He screams, but it comes out garbled as they tug off his wedding ring. 
Tommy’s hair is released, and he sinks impossibly deeper, metal piercing everything. 
“Such a shame, Hagan.” The figure speaks. Tommy doesn’t recognize the voice. He wishes he could yell, ask what they want, why they’re doing this–but he can’t. 
“Never deserved that wife of yours. Never deserved anything you got. But this? Yeah, this is the surprise you needed.”
The last thing Tommy hears is his own front door slamming shut and locking. How did they get a key? He’ll never know. He’ll die here, and no one is coming for him. 
————
When Billy slips into bed with you that night, he coaxes your head onto his chest, wanting to feel you. Wanting to know that you’re really there. He leans down to kiss you, finding your eyes glued to the closet door. You know it’s in there. 
“What is it, baby?”
You blink, shaking your head. You sit up some, and slip your hand under the edge of his t-shirt, fingers running over the soft of his warm tummy. 
“Is this fulfilling for you? Is it something you think you’ll do forever?”
Billy allows himself to think for a moment, and while he does, he gently pulls you closer, leaning up to get that kiss he wanted. When he pulls away, he has an answer for you.
“It’s not something I want to do forever, no. I know we moved to the city and out of Hawkins, but I go back there because it doesn’t feel right to leave those motherfuckers there, roaming around and making it worse. There are good people there, and they don’t deserve to live in a place that’s drowning in shit. So yeah, it’s fulfilling in that I know I can make it a better place. I can protect the people who once protected me.”
And that’s true. Joyce is still there. He talks to her on the phone a few times a week. Shit, the woman is practically his surrogate mother. Max is still there, in college with her friends. Sure, she’ll transfer soon, but still. He can’t leave it like that. 
He would’ve taken care of Neil had he not done that himself. Stomped off one night, drunk, and never came home. He got in an accident. Billy was glad to skip that chore. 
“I’m almost done, sweetheart, I promise. Just wanted to leave behind something better. I won’t do this much longer. Just wanna keep you safe. It’s so scary out there, baby. I only want the best for you.”
You rest your head on his shoulder, watching his chest rise and fall. This should freak you out, shouldn’t it? It should alarm you? It doesn’t. He’s so good at this. He’s a natural. Doesn’t leave a trace. You do feel safer, admittedly.
“I understand. I just want you to be careful.”
His nails scratch lightly at your neck. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve got this. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby. This hellhole is gonna be so much better when I’m done.”
“Yeah, Billy. It is. Then maybe we can get out of here for real.”
“Of course. Anything for my girl.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
202 notes · View notes
yoimix · 2 years
Text
genshin men + a clumsy s/o
ft. kazuha, zhongli, venti
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[ requested by @jewelscara ] [ tw: alcohol, kazuha lightweight :-) ]
✽ kazuha is used to a life of wandering, dangers and unconventionality—and that means his senses are heightened above the capabilities of a normal man. as such, he finds your motions bizarre by instinct, but he also finds your ditzy steps strangely adorable. he supposes it’s because it’s you that he finds even your oddities heartwarming. as long as you’re not falling into pits or anything. he will also hold you by reflex if you trip or walk into something or slip on a particularly dewy patch of grass. to be fair, the last one is tricky. he’s always smiling so endearingly when you’re around too, and you can blame him for distracting you on most occasions. kazuha would never hold it against you either if you break something on accident or knock things over. all in all, he’s very concerned about you gravely injuring yourself traveling with him in particular, while still letting you stand up on your own two feet (even if they’re both left). 
although, his movement mimics yours with the tiniest bit of alcohol.
“more, more, more... more,” he drabbles on, as you try your best to drag him out of the tavern.
“goodness, kazuha, we both know i’m not cut out for this job,” you heave, as he finally takes a step in your direction only for you to lose balance and land on your knees. mondstadt cobblestones aren’t the softest to land on but your battered knees are used to a little bit of beating.
he looks down at you with a slight pout and furrowed eyebrows. “my love, did you fall again? are you hurt? oh dear.”
he stumbles onto the floor beside you, his outstretched hand meant for you to take breaking his fall instead. how could one fruity cocktail reduce him to this? to be fair, you don’t need even that to be as bad at keeping balance. 
“kazuha, we have to get up,” you tell him, brushing your knees as you get back on your feet.
“i’m up,” he says confidently while still sat on the ground. “you’re looking so blurry, maple, are you falling?”
“i’m afraid that’s not the case, sweetheart.” you shake your head, grabbing both his hands to lift him up.
your efforts do get him off the ground. however, instead of standing, he leans over onto you till his entire bodyweight is on you. of course. what else did you expect? he’s still so cute, you think. when did babbling, drunk men start looking cute to you? but then again, it’s only kazuha. you love every little detail of his.
“you’re gripping me too tight,” you say, trying to loosen his grip around your waist. 
“of course i am, (name). i don’t want you falling,” he mumbles, finally standing up straight. his arms don’t move. “do you know much it worries me to see the bandages?”
“i’m alright, kazuha. you don’t put me in any trouble more than i put myself in.” you press your hand against his cherry-red cheek, revelling in the warmth. “you can- you can let go...”
“i’d rather not let go of you,” he refuses, face as golden as the setting sun.
you furrow your eyebrows. met with his deep autumn eyes, what more can you do?
his grip around your waist isn’t getting any looser and the blood flows into your cheeks as he refuses to lower his stare.
“you will always worry me, (name).” kazuha sighs, but it soon turns into a smile. “so don’t wander too far off from me.”
✽ zhongli, ever observant, incorporates your tendencies into his habits. he can never be too careless with you around. in your defense, you couldn’t look at the man without your heart doing flips and somersaults. even as lovers, it’s ridiculous how you struggle to keep your balance around him. the number of walls you’ve walked into as a result of his smile is ridiculous. in fact, zhongli reflexively stretches out his arms before you can bump into anything. he will pull you by the waist if you walk a little close to the docks, place his arm between you and any solid surface that might hurt your shoulder, take your hand every time you step over the puddles after liyue’s much needed rain. it’s deeply evident how he cares for you. sometimes, though, he will just let you do your thing and look at you fascinated. he always carries bandages and antiseptic creams on him, even if he forgets his wallet.
“dear?”
“yes, zhongli?”
“did you fall into the pool or were you planning to take a swim fully clothed?”
you lower yourself into the waist-level water, fully drenching yourself. there’s a large scrape on your thigh and you’d rather not let your lover take note of it. partly because you’re embarrassed and partly because you don’t want him to fuss over you later.
“i’m fine down here, honey,” you mumble, looking away from him. you can still feel his intense gaze, regardless. 
when you stormed out of the house, annoyed with his lecturing on your habits, you should’ve expected some bad luck. (luck referring to your muscle coordination.) you know he only spoke out of concern but you took it a bit too personal. he knows you too well—and familiarity breeds contempt. soon, your little quirks will be burdens to bear. you didn’t want him to worry when you waked off, you just wanted some fresh air. to be fair, you did get some fresh air before plunging into freshwater too.
“i don’t want you catching a cold, love.”
zhongli gets down on his knee beside the clear pool of water, extending a hand for you take. after a moment of hesitation, you give your hand and he gets you out effortlessly. 
the thing is, you expected him to let go after you’re up. instead, you’re pulled into his chest, his arms settling at your back and waist, a deep chuckle leaving the man. you’re sure the water’s soaking through his clothes and yet there is no notion of his discomfort. is he made of rock?
“zhongli! why’d you do that? now both of us are drenched...”
“does it upset you, my dear?”
“no. but... you don’t have to go so far to coddle me,” you grumbling.
“hah...” he sighs. “one moment, you believe i’m angry with you and the next you think i’m coddling you? you’re as bewildering as ever.”
“you’re teasing me again,” you huff as you pull away and cross your arms.
“you know my adoration for you. i never meant to preach.” he presses his lips together and hums a sigh. “i should’ve worded it better. i don’t mean to coddle you and neither do i want to show you tougher love.”
his hand at your waist wavers and finally moves to rest against your cheek.
“now let’s get you fixed up. blood is not a nice color on you,” he speaks grimly, but not as a reprimand. if there’s anyone who wouldn’t either baby you or treat you with indifference, ire even, it’s your ever-steady lover.
“how did you...” you shake your head, a smile growing. everyone needs someone to lean on. “thank you, my love.”
✽ venti is quite mischievous with you, though he makes sure you’re alright in his own way. he sometimes blows a particularly strong wind in your direction just to see you flail, and follow up by grabbing your hands and pulling you towards him in a funny little dance. even if you step on his foot more times than you can count, he always finds a way around it—making fun of the mistakes you make till you’re forced into a rebuttal by pointing out his own. he just enjoys the way you move, as far as graceful as you can get, and yet as animated and lovely as windwheel asters. he also jokes often about how you don’t need alcohol to act silly. you say it’s the same for him; he’s not the most serious of men. venti also gets more affectionate when he’s drunk, much like a cat on catnip, and will show you off with the weirdest titles. (“my s/o can trip three times on a hike and still be okay!” “venti stfu”)
“oh thank barbatos,” you heave, as soon as you reach the tip of starsnatch cliff.
“you called?”
you shriek, your fists flying up to fend the source of your momentary fright off. however, instead of getting into a defence stance, you stumble backward and land on your butt right at the edge of the cliff. 
“you’re going to kill me, you idiot!” you scream while venti snickers, landing softly beside you. oh, to be as nimble as wind. you’ve got to say you’re a little jealous of the bard.
you scoot away from the edge to a much safer spot, while venti shrugs and lays his head on your lap.
“who said you could do that?” you quip, though you don’t move his head away.
“aww, didn’t you come here to meet me?”
“i meet you if i want to add more injuries to my body. every time i fall, you make me fall harder.”
venti’s eyes go wide. “my, that’s quite the romantic thing to say.”
you sputter out a half-assed denial. “y- you know that’s not what i meant.”
“well, do you want me to sing your bruises better?” he sits up giggling, the tune of his laughter playful.
“very funny, venti- oh dear archons, you don’t have to whip out your lyre harp.”
he strikes a familiar chord, a song of love and mischief, and you cave. it’s so easy for him to quieten you. then again, his melody always calls for attention. it’s so easy to lose track of time with him, and you’re glad you do. life can get hard, even in the city of freedom, and what’s better than the archon himself lifting your spirits? he’s quite good at that, even if he doesn’t realize it.
venti clicks his tongue when he notices you zoned out.
“c’mon now, i’m pouring my heart out for you!”
you roll your eyes. “oh lord barbatos, i don’t believe you could ever surpass the admiration i hold for you already.”
“unimpressive.”
you shake your head, huffing loudly.
“shall we dance then?”
“here?” you look around, furrowing your eyebrows at the steep ledges. no way. but of course, why would the anemo archon ever listen to you? he does as he pleases. you’re pulled to your feet and you take the tiniest of steps in his direction. the motion makes venti laugh, eyes closing. it really is a wonder how he makes the breeze howl in your chest.
“you don’t have to worry, (name),” he grins wider, taking your hands in his. “you can always trust the wind to catch you.”
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dulcesiabits · 1 year
Text
sacred are these hands of yours.
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summary: Mhin interrupts your outing with Vere, for reasons they don’t understand.
notes: 921 words, drabble, fluff, jealousy, Vere makes some innuendoes, spoilers for/reference to the demo
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The problem with you, Mhin thinks, is that you were the sun.
Someone that burns their eyes if they look at you for too long. Someone that brings all the dark creatures in the city scrambling for a piece of your warmth. Someone who, for whatever damned reason, lets Vere drape himself over you like a fur scarf, his face much too close as he whispers something inane in your ear.
Whoever you decide to call a friend is your own business. But it’s hard for Mhin to tear their eyes away when Vere is hugging you like a– like a lover, his arms tangled around your torso. The two of you were in public, but you didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you throw back your head and laugh at something Vere says, which causes his tail to swish pleasedly.
It’s not as if there’s something strange about intimacy. This is hardly the raunchiest thing that has ever graced the public streets of Eridia. But something about the way Vere leans his head against you. Something about the way you pat his shoulder affectionately. Something about the fact it’s Vere by your side, with his flirtations and effortless charm, easy with people in a way they could never be.
Something about that makes their stomach turn. You have bad taste, they decide. Terrible taste.
Whatever business they have can wait; it’s their job, isn’t it, to make sure Monsters and Soulless aren’t plaguing the streets? So this has nothing to do with you personally. You were nothing more than someone they have established an uneasy alliance with, and they couldn’t have you jeopardizing their plans by consorting with a Monster.
They’re halfway across the street before they realize it. Vere’s ears prick up at their footsteps, despite their attempts to be stealthy.
“Mhin,” he greets with a sly smile, tossing his head. “Care to join us? I don’t mind taking one more person.”
Mhin’s eyes linger on Vere’s arm, still slung around your shoulder. “You’re not the one I’m here to talk to.”
“What’s up, Mhin?” you say. “I thought you were busy patrolling today.”
“I am,” they respond bluntly. “And you’re adding to my workload. I need to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
“It’s something we can’t talk about with other people here,” they emphasize.
“Don’t mind me, Mhin. I’d love to join your little duo and make it a threesome,” Vere says. 
At this distance, they could smell Vere’s perfume on you, something cloying and unpleasant. 
“We should really talk in private,” Mhin repeats. “So get lost, Vere.”
“Touchy! It’s a good thing I like it when people treat me roughly.” Vere leans closer to you, eyes gleaming. “It looks like I’ll have to see you later, sweetheart.”
Mhin reacts before they know what they’re doing; just as Vere leans in to kiss your cheek, they grab you by the shoulder and yank you away.
“Mhin?” you say incredulously. “What the hell was that for?”
It’s at this point Vere breaks out into laughter. “Oh, I know Ais and Leander are going to love it when they hear about this.” 
“Shut up,” Mhin growls, their cheeks heating. Foolish. They were so foolish. They’d fallen into Vere’s trap without a second thought. At the very least, the only price they’d need to pay would be their pride… and Vere’s taunting remarks for the next few weeks.
You shake off Mhin’s hand. “If you really needed to talk to me, you could have just said something. Don’t just tug me around like that.” Then, you nudge them with your shoulder. “So? Where do you want to go to talk?”
They focus on you, trying to ignore Vere, still laughing in the periphery of their version. “I know somewhere. Just come with me.”
You say goodbye to Vere, and follow Mhin through the streets. By the end of the day, would you smell a little more like them, rather than Vere? Normally, though, they smell like blood, the tang of iron never fading no matter how many times they wash– They shake their head. Far too many foolish thoughts fill their mind when they’re with you.
The truth is, they don’t have any new information to share with you, nothing that you don’t know already. But it’s fine; they could make something up. Why had they pulled you away from Vere like that? Mhin can’t understand their own behavior sometimes.
Something about you drove them crazy. The way you smiled, the curve of your lips. Your desperation, the familiar taste of it. The way you gaze at them: with irritation, with mirth, with joy. You gaze at them, and never look away.
You should’ve been nothing more than someone they could easily discard the moment it was inconvenient. You have your own agenda. They have theirs. An alliance should only last as long as you need each other, and no longer. 
So why couldn’t they let you go?
The problem is that Mhin wants to know what your touch feels like: your hands in their hair, your hands on their skin. The problem is that desire is dangerous, and if they weren’t careful, they would fly too close and burn themself, feathers melting away one by one as they plunged into the sea. The problem is that they don’t care if they get burned, lose their mind and their very self, not if you could hold them just once. 
How warm would the sun’s hands be?
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uhohwhathaveidone · 1 year
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Dude I’m obsessed with your writing I’m so glad I came across your page omg 😭🙏 I Hope you don’t mind me requesting a Omnis gaunt x reader fic that would be about the reader being a pureblood like omnis being arranged to marry each other and the both don’t get along and then later on they both start warming up to each other and also start caring about each other one day the reader catches a slytherin girl flirting with omnis which makes her jealous to the point the reader is tempted to transform the girl into a damn chicken and Omnis immediately knows the reader is there so after the girl goes away Ominis starts teasing the reader which causes her to be flustered and then out of nowhere the reader quickly gives him a kiss (I’m so sorry if this sounds cringe but I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers and I can’t help but imagine omnis and the reader be like that at first)
"You're supposed to be my husband you idiot <(‵^′)>"
Marriage? (O.G)
hehe OG. Anyway, this is pretty long, if I do say so myself. I listened to a classical music playlist so I kind of got into it. Also, I think my nose ring got infected and now the tip of my nose hurst really bad, so I have to deal with that for a bit. Apparently you shouldn't use rubbing alcohol and stuff and only like saline solution but....my old college friend stole my solution and I keep forgetting to buy more. Anyway, no warnings, fem!reader, whose also in Slytherin. Its just the good old angst/fluff enemies to lovers trope. I've never written for Ominis before, and let me tell you, I kept typing Seb on accident before correcting myself. And thank you so much for all your requests, im still chipping away at them! Anyway, Enjoy <3 pt2, Marry Me
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You stood beside your mother, grasping onto her dress as you stood, watching your father talk with another man. Beside him sat a strange-looking boy. You noticed how his eyes were very different, unsure how to describe them if anyone ever asked, but his hair was laid nicely, done by his mother, no doubt. He was dressed in a rather fancy attire, one you would normally see at one of the many high-end parties your parents would hold, at it seemed to match the dress you wore perfectly. Your mother held a glare as she looked at your father, who shook hands with the other and walked over to you, kneeling down to your height. “Darling, I want you to meet Ominis Gaunt, the boy over there.” He pointed to the boy, who you now know was named Ominis, who didn’t wave or even acknowledge you. You huffed, crossing your arms. “Why must I meet him? He doesn’t look very friendly.” You complained, sending a childish glare his way. Your father sighed, placing a hand on your small shoulder. “You’ll be married to him in the future, so it’d be best if you met now and got along beforehand.”
“Marry him? That’s stupid! I don’t want to get married!” You shouted, running to hide behind your mother. She only sighed as she turned to you, patting your head. “Just go say hi to him, ok darling?” You puffed your cheeks as she ushered you towards him, leaving you there to go make small talk with his parents. You stood there, glaring at the strange boy. His eyes were creepy, and they only seemed to get creepier the more you looked at him. He didn’t speak a word, staring off into a corner of the room the two had been left in. You took a breath and brought your hand out, outstretched to shake his own. “Hello, my name is y/n. You’re Ominis?” He nodded, turning his head in your direction. He didn’t take your hand, nor even look at it. You grew impatient, feeling like a fool. “Well? Aren’t you going to shake my hand?” You asked, gesturing to him. “Right, sorry.” He said, and stretched his own hand out, moving it around in the air. “Seriously? Come on.” You sighed, grabbing his hand, and shaking it once. “You act like your blind, or something.”
“I am…blind.” Ominis said, furrowing his brows. You glared at him, still upset about the embarrassing handshake. “Clearly.” You turned to walk away, looking in the direction of your mother. “How boring, I refuse to marry someone as boring as you are.” Ominis glared in your direction, beginning to dread the arraignment your parents had set up. “I wouldn’t want to marry someone as spoiled as you, either.” Your cheeks heated up in anger as you turned to him. “I am not spoiled!” Ominis shrugged, “Could have fooled me.” You huffed as you stomped over to your mother, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go, mother. I refuse to marry someone like him, he’s boring and rude.” She sighed, looking over to your father as he narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have a choice, sweetie. Your father already set it up.” “Well then Father is a fool, I wish to go home and never see him again.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, little lady.” Your father scowled, crossing his arms. “It has already been set that you will marry Ominis, and even if you wanted to avoid him, it would be impossible.” You stomped a foot onto the cobbled ground, pouting. “And why is that?” You asked, glaring over at Ominis, who had made his way over, somehow. “You’ll be attending Hogwarts next year, same as him. No doubt you’ll be in the same house as well. You must get used to it.” Your father placed his cup onto the table, bowing his head to Mr. Gaunt. “I refuse!” Your mother grabbed your hand and began to walk you out, promising to let you out into the garden when you made it home. You smiled; finally being told something you like to hear. Your father only sighed as he stepped into the carriage behind you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s only ten, it’s quite the age to be set up for marriage.” Your mother reasoned, still holding your hand. You looked out the window, focusing on the world going by instead of your parents’ voices. “It doesn’t matter, we were the same age when we were told that we would marry.” He looked over at his wife, who refused to make eye contact with him. “And I resented you for a long while before we got to that point. All I’m saying is to give them time. Children their age don’t want to get married, they want to see the world.” “She has no choice, one way or the other.”
You stood amongst the crowd, watching as students were called up and placed into their houses. You fiddled with the ring your mother gave you, looking around anxiously. You watched a girl walk up to the front, sitting on the stool. You let out a shaky breath as you watched her smile and run to where the other Ravenclaws were. “Nervous?” You groaned, turning to Ominis. “Not one bit, but I would mind some personal space, you know.” Ominis shook his head, “You can’t lie to me. I can hear your breathing.” You glared at him, knowing he couldn’t see the anger that had made its home in your features. “Keep your ears away, just because you can’t see doesn’t mean you can use your hearing to spy on me.” Ominis shook his head, backing away slightly. “Still as rotten as always. Remind me to never try and help you with anything.” You scoffed, “As if anything I need help with would use your assistance.” Your name was called then, and you gave Ominis one last glare as you made your way through, sitting on the stool.
“You have great wit, you do. Bit of a temper… but not to everyone. I see. A rival already, perhaps? Your mind is strong, but there are other parts…yes.” You sighed as the hat rambled to itself, looking around. “I’d say… Slytherin!” You released the breath you had begun to hold, heading to the table where your father had sat many years ago. A girl waved her hand to you, patting the seat beside her. “Come sit here!” You nodded as you made your way over, taking a seat beside the brunette. “Hello! I’m Anne, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” She offered to shake your hand, and you gladly took it. “My name is y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” Anne smiled at you and pointed into the crowd. “You see that boy, the one with the brown hair near the front?” You shook your head, noticing that there were a long of boys in the assembly with brown hair, including Ominis. “There’s quite a few of them, Anne. You’d have to be more specific.” She sighed, trying to find an easier way to show you. “Oh! He’s standing by the other boy with brown hair, I saw him earlier, blind I believe?” You sighed, knowing she meant Ominis, and quickly spotted him. Beside his stood a taller boy, brown hair, just like Anne said. “I believe I see him now.” Anne smiled, “Good! That’s my twin brother, Sebastian!” You nodded, watching as the two boys got closer to the front of the group. “He’ll definitely be in the same house, I’m sure of it.” You could only nod, watching as Ominis was called up to the stool. Your father’s words replayed in your head, “No doubt you’ll be in the same house.” You shuddered, glaring as Ominis was, indeed, sorted into Slytherin as well.
You thought that would be the end of it, you’d be sorted in the same house, but otherwise not have to deal with each other. You were wrong. You shared many classes with Ominis in your first year, second too. Your friend, Anne, had also become his friend, along with her twin brother Sebastian. You felt your insides bubble in anger as you realized that you had to share friends now, unable to get away from the boring boy you were cursed to marry. Anne had come up to ask you once why you were sort of rude to Ominis, but kind to everyone else. You brushed it off, replying that you just didn’t get along with him. Ominis had let it slip once, though, in front of Anne and Sebastian.
You watched Ominis become more aware of his surroundings, able to navigate around furniture with ease now thanks to all the practice. He was annoying you, always bringing up the marriage situation whenever he tried to help you with something. You thought that maybe you hung out with Imelda too much, as you dragged some of the furniture around a bit, just barely noticeable to anyone. You then sat back, talking with Anne and Sebastian, eyes trailing to Ominis as he walked into the common room. You watched as he took his normal route, around tables and chairs, but his route was disrupted. You watched in glee as he ran his side into the arm of a chair, hissing in pain as he grabbed it. Sebastian quickly stood up, moving to help Ominis.
“Pretty clumsy, are you?” You teased, placing your arms behind your head. Ominis glared in your direction, already on to your plan. “I do hope you lose the habit of moving furniture before we get married, I’ll be dead before we even reach the wedding.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Perhaps that was the plan, my dear.” Anne and Sebastian looked between the two of you, confused. “Wait!” Anne spoke up, “Is that why you don’t like Ominis? You’re forced to marry him?” You nodded, gesturing to Ominis, “He called me spoiled when we first met.” Anne looked at Ominis, seemingly offended for you. Quickly, Ominis retorted. “You called me boring and rude! And said to “stop acting like I’m blind.”” You held back a laugh, “To be fair, no one told me you were blind before-hand.” Ominis sighed, exhausted. “Could have asked, you know.” “Be pretty rude to walk up to a boy I just met and go “Hello, I’m going to be your wife! By any chance, are you blind?” Although, that would be pretty funny.” Ominis shook his head.
By the time you made it to your third year, Anne had been pestering you constantly to try and be nice with Ominis. You could only sigh, telling her that she sounded like your mother. You continued to banter with Ominis day after day, insulting each other and pranking each other. The fourth year arrived, and Sebastian came along, informing you that Anne was unwell and unable to come back. Down a friend, you were stuck with Ominis and Sebastian, and you began to grow tired of making fun of your soon-to-be husband.
You walked into the potion’s classroom, taking your seat next to Ominis. He looked over at you, and you blew air from your nose. “Rough night last night?” Ominis asked, stating the obvious, but you could no longer fault him. He was unable to see the dark circles that had formed under your eyes from the study session you had last night, flipping through the chapter you would be going over today. You had always been anxious during Potions, the fear that one wrong ingredient would possibly cause an explosion was the key element that made you study so hard. “Yeah, you could say that.” You responded, grabbing your book, and opening to the page you were on before you finally surrendered to sleep. “You know, not every potions class is going to end up in flames.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You never fully know until it happens.” “Of course.”
Sharp began the class with the description of the potion they would be making, lecturing for about five minutes before letting the students begin. You sighed, reading off the measurements as you placed them in your pot. You had it memorized, thanks to the night before. You read how the potion was supposed to react, and how it reacted when ingredients were placed when they weren’t supposed to. The potion would blow up, and you refused to let that happen. You took a quick glance at Ominis, checking up on him, only to quickly look back at his hand in horror. He had grabbed the wrong ingredient, of course, and was seconds away from placing it into the cauldron. Quickly, you grabbed his hand, pulling it away. “Ominis! You really must double check before you start adding ingredients!” Ominis looked at you, surprised. “What do you mean?” You sighed, taking the moss out of his hand and placing it away from the rest of the ingredients, replacing it with milkweed. “You were about to blow yourself up, is what I mean. If you’re unsure, please check with me first. Imagine what I’d have to tell your parents if you blew yourself up.” Ominis listened to you ramble, a soft smile on his lips. You had started to become kind to him as you made it to your fifth year. Sebastian joked and said you were finally maturing. Ominis swore that, sometimes, you had been looking out for him as the three of you walked down the hall. Who else would tug on his sleeve and pull him slightly over before he bumped into a statue?
You had stopped talking, returning to your own potion. Ominis placed the milkweed into the cauldron, giving it a quick stir. “Thank you, by the way.” He said quietly, reaching for another ingredient. “Don’t mention it, you probably would have blown me up too, honestly. Here,” You said, grabbing his paper with the instructions on it. You had learned a spell a while ago that changed writing on parchment, and had tweaked it to turn words into brail. Waving your wand quickly, the ink turned to raised dots, and you quickly labeled the ingredients he was using. “So, you don’t blow us up again.” Curious, Ominis grabbed the paper you placed in front of him, running his fingers down it. He smiled and felt a slight warmth in his cheeks. You ignored him and continued to work.
It became a habit in potions now, where you would watch Ominis as he worked with his potions, making sure he was using the right ones. In other classes, you began to help each other, slightly. There was still the teasing and slight insult, but otherwise the two of you were rather tame. You began to walk with Ominis around the grounds, describing things to him when you didn’t have classes to get to. Ominis enjoyed the walks the two of you shared, enjoying the descriptions you made. Sometimes, you would purposefully describe something in a weird way, waiting for Ominis to catch on and tell you how crazy that would be, but sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes, Ominis would become engrossed in your voice, it always had a calm tone to it, even if you were acting out against him. It was one of the first things he noticed when you first met six year prior; the soft voice you used when addressing your mother, how it sounded annoyed when you asked if he was going to shake your hand, the stern tone you used when you told your father that he was boring and rude.
You grabbed his sleeve, shaking him from his thoughts. “No, no, no, where is it?” Your voice was panicked this time, one that Ominis never really heard much. “What’s happened?” You dropped to the ground, searching through the grass. “My mother’s ring! It must have slipped off my finger! I can’t find it.” Your voice cracked, and Ominis knelt down and found your shoulder. “Are you sure you didn’t take it off and leave it by your bed?” You shook your head frantically, tears swelling in your eyes. “Never! I never take it off, not anymore.” Ominis could hear you begin to cry. You had worn the ring to your first day of Hogwarts, a gift from your mother. You told him once about it, how its silver band curled around a pale yellow stone, Hufflepuff, the house your mother was in. You had taken it off every now and then if you were planning on dueling Sebastian or caring for creatures, but during the break between fourth and fifth year, your mother had passed suddenly, and you refused to take it off after that.
“I don’t know where it could be! I can’t remember when I had it last,” You wept, and Ominis found you once again and offered his hand. “I may not be the best help, but I can help us retrace our steps.” You looked at him, confused. “How?” “Well, you’ve been describing our walk this whole time, so if we go back along the same route and give it a good look-over, I’m sure you’ll spot it.” You nodded, taking his hand as he pulled you up, taking your hand and recounting the path you took. “I believe we left off at the tree with the pink flowers?” You nodded, moving back to the tree, guiding Ominis behind you. You scanned the ground as you walked, not seeing any sign of it. “Not here…” Ominis thought back again, “We visited the fence with the strange mushrooms growing on it, yes?” “That’s right!” The ring wasn’t there either, but Ominis refused to let your hopes down. “I remember you talking about the small pond where those giant toads lived, perhaps it’s there?” The two of you made your way back to the pond, and you searched through the grass. Ominis joined in, sifting through with his fingers, coming up to a round metal object with what felt like a gemstone attached to it. “Here it is!”
“Ominis! You’re a genius!” You shouted, running up to him. Ominis smiled, stretching his hand out. You looked at him, puzzled, not reaching for it as you tried to figure out what he was doing. “Give me your hand, I know you’re not blind.” You chuckled, placing your hand in his. Slowly, he guided the ring back onto your finger, closing your hand with his own. “There, best that we don’t lose it again, yeah?” “Right, thank you so much, Ominis. I have no idea what I would do without you.”
A few weeks had gone by, and the two of you had seemingly gotten closer. You helped each other in class, point out if one of your favourite food was at supper, and take the usual walks, which did not lead to you losing your ring a second time. Ominis had made sure that you wouldn’t, taking your hand with the ring in his as you walked, “A precaution,” Ominis said. You were unsure where you stood with Ominis at that point, unable to tell if you were getting along because you had to, or because you wanted to. You didn’t even know if you actually liked him, thanks to the arraignment; you felt conflicted, unsure if your feelings were real or made up to save face for your families. You weren’t going to ask Ominis how he felt, of course. You pushed the thoughts aside as you walked into the common room, ready to collect Ominis and head to the dining hall.
You looked over to the couch, eyeing where Ominis sat. Beside him sat another student, who had begun to play with her hair as she talked with him. Your eyes narrowed as you walked closer, disgust painting your face as you listened to her awful attempts at flirting. “So, I was thinking. Maybe we could go by the lake? It’s quiet there.” She said, and you glared daggers into the back of her head. Shameless fliting was one thing, shameless flirting with Ominis? A death sentence. Hexes ran through your head, the idea of turning her into a chicken and leaving her in one of the pens stuck out, another, turning her into a toad and leaving her to live with the other toads in the crowded pond. Ominis heard the small noise you made when she tried to get closer, and he smirked. He knew you were there, probably standing behind her as you glared at her, something Sebastian had described to him anytime Poppy would get picked on. You had made it your habit to stand behind your “victims” until they turned around and met your dagger-like gaze, threatening to hex them if they didn’t get out of your sight. Ominis could only imagine what scene was playing out before him, and he broke into a smile. The student took that as a good sign, “I’ll meet you there then.” She got up and turned to grab the book she had placed down, gasping as your presence startled her. “You have to stop sneaking up on people like that, y/n!” Your gaze never broke, “My apologies.”
The girl left, leaving you to huff in annoyance as you waited for Ominis to stand. His smile never left as he slowly got up and walked to you. “It’s quiet there? That’s so stupid! She needs to work on her flirting skills.” You crossed your arms, turning to walk to the door. “Is someone jealous?” You scoffed, as you exited the room, “Why would I?” “We’re supposed to get married, I’m basically your husband already.” You shook your head, pouting. “We’re not married yet, so why should I care?” You walked along the empty hall, the sound of your shoes hitting the cobble echoing around you. Ominis chuckled, “So I can…go to the lake with her tonight, then?” Your cheeks heated up and you began to stutter. “The- the lake? Absolutely not! Why would you-“ You took a breath in and sighed. “Go on then, go have your fun.” You stopped walking, turning to Ominis and crossing your arms. Still smiling, Ominis shrugged his shoulders and turned to walk away, and you huffed in annoyance as your face turned bright red. You quickly grabbed his arm to stop him, “You’re not…actually going to go, are you?” You asked, hanging your head and looking down at your feet. You heard him chuckle, as he turned, guiding his hand up to find your face. “I wouldn’t need to if my wife-to-be would stop being so stubborn.” He felt your cheek burn as you looked up at him, debating what to do.
Without a second thought, you quickly brought your lips together in a quick kiss, hoping that Ominis would understand. You pulled back just as quickly, watching his face heat up just as yours did, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “There she is.” “Shut up.”
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steinwayandhissons · 10 months
Text
arctic monkeys and every time the word ‘love’ is mentioned
whatever people say I am that’s what I’m not
tonight there’ll be some love, tonight there’ll be a ruckus yeah regardless of what’s gone before
~ view from the afternoon
oh there ain’t no love, no montagues or capulets
~ i bet you look good on the dancefloor
all that’s left is the proof that love’s not only blind but deaf… yeah I’d love to tell you all my problem
~ fake tales of san francisco
she makes a subtle proposition, I’m sorry love I’ll have to turn you down
~ when the sun goes down
lady, where has your love gone, i was looking but can’t find it anywhere, they always offer when there’s loads of love around but when you’re short of some it’s nowhere to be found
~ no buses
well how can you wake up with someone you don’t love and not feel slightly phased by it
~ leave before the lights come on
favourite worst nightmare
it’s wrong wrong wrong but we’ll do it anyway cause we love a bit of trouble
~ balaclava
and those dreams weren’t as daft as they seem, aren’t as daft as they seem my love
~ fluorescent adolescent
there’s room for the trouble and there’s lovers to be had
~ this house is a circus
it’d be a big mistake for you to wait and let me waste your time, really love it’s fine, I said really love it’s fine
~ the bad thing
old yellow bricks, love’s a risk… houdini love you don’t know what you’re running away from
~ old yellow bricks
another roll around and another push and shove, further away from the idea of love
~ da frame 2r
the more you keep on looking the more it’s hard to take, love we’re in stalemate… you’re slacking love where have you been
~ the bakery
am I too quick to assume that the love is no longer in bloom
~ too much to ask
humbug
i had a hole in the pocket of my favourite coat and my love dropped into the lining
~ i haven’t got my strange
suck it and see
i wanna feel your love brick by brick
~ brick by brick
do you still feel love is a laserquest or do you take it all more seriously… when I’m not being honest I pretend that you were just some lover
~ love is a laserquest
your love is like a studded leather headlock
~ suck it and see
jealousy in technicolour, fear by name, love by numbers… crushing up a bundle of love
~ that’s where you’re wrong
before she showed you how to shake love’s steady hand
~ the blonde o sonic shimmer trap
your love’s not what I need, so don’t give it to me
~ evil twin
am
it’s not like I’m falling in love I just want you to do me no good… the look of love, the rush of blood
~ no.1 party anthem
love buckles under the strain of those wild nights
~ mad sounds
I heard that you fell in love, or near enough
~ snap out of it
love like locked horns, love like dominoes… love like thunder, love like falling snow
~ electricity
I know you’re nothing like mine cause she’s walking on sunshine and your love would tear us apart
~ you’re so dark
tranquility base hotel and casino
love came in a bottle with a twist off cap, let’s all have a swig and do a hot lap… but it’s alright, cause you love me
~ star treatment
when true love takes a grip it leaves you without a choice
~ golden trunks
pattern language in the mood for love
~ the world’s first ever monster truck front flip
I wanna stay with you my love, the way some science fiction does
~ science fiction
the dawn won’t stop weighing a tonne, I’ve done some things that I shouldn’t have done, but I haven’t stopped loving you once
~ the ultracheese
the car
lights out on the wonder park, your saw toothed lover boy was quick off the mark
~ jet skis on the moat
put your heavy metal to the test, there might be half a love song in it all for you
~ mr schwartz
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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 months
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── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FOURTEEN
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Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.
Chapter Synopsis: You use Quynh’s powers to escape to Ba Sing Se once again.
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Zuko x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 4.6k
Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery
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A/N: normalize blaming the world’s problems on long feng and captain chhay…public enemies numba one and two !! (blaming the fact that i lowkey hate this chapter on them too ngl)
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“Well done, Chhay,” Long Feng said. “As soon as I am named regent, I will appoint you as the captain of the Dai Li. If you agree to keep doing my bidding, I will ensure that your salary is enough to fund all your luxuries.”
“I would’ve followed your commands no matter the compensation,” the young Earthbender said. Chhay had only just joined the Dai Li, and yet he had been singled out by Grand Secretariat Long Feng already, identified as a remarkable talent. Just for the recognition alone, he would’ve done anything. Extra pay was an additional benefit — certainly, he and his wife could use it, so he would not complain.
“It’s for that reason that I’ve selected you, Chhay,” Long Feng said. “It’s for that reason that I trusted only you to kill the king. And it’s the same reason why I’m approaching you with another job.”
“Whatever you ask, sir,” Chhay said. “You only need to say the words, and I will do it.”
“This request is a little more abhorrent,” Long Feng said. “I need you to kill a pregnant woman. Can you handle it?”
Chhay thought about his own wife, whose stomach was just beginning to swell with the beginnings of a child, and then he nodded. As long as it was not her, what did it matter to him?
“I’ll do it,” he said. “It’s as I promised. You’ll find no supporter more loyal, Long Feng. When you are regent, you will serve with me as your right hand.”
Chhay made his way down the hallway, balancing a cup of milk in his hands as he approached the royal chambers. The servants scuttled out of his way when they saw him; no one questioned his presence, even though it was out of the ordinary for him to be visiting the area. He was a Dai Li agent. He could do as he pleased without fear of retribution or questioning. 
Her second pregnancy had been harder on the queen than her first, or perhaps it was the recent loss of her husband that had left her in this state. Either way, she was a depressing sight, sallow and worn, her cheeks sunken and eyes like pits, though she managed to smile at Chhay when he entered her room. He did not return it.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the glass and holding it in thin, shaking hands. “I didn’t realize that you Dai Li were the considerate sort.”
“We do what we can,” he said. “Anything for her royal majesty, the Queen Regent of the Earth Kingdom.”
She took a sip of the milk, which he had warmed and stirred sugar into. Her nose wrinkled, for she obviously found the drink far too sweet for her tastes, but it was as Long Feng had predicted — she was far too polite to stop drinking it, far too well-mannered and high-born to ever do something as rude as rejecting his gift.
“The baby will be born soon,” the queen said. “Tomorrow or the day after, perhaps.”
“Hm,” Chhay said, not finding any particular interest in the conversation but needing to stay until she had finished and he could take the cup back with him.
“My husband wanted it to be a girl,” she continued. “He made sure to tell everyone he encountered about the news. But you’re new, aren’t you? So you likely didn’t hear him. Oh, he was so excited that we were going to have another baby. He would lay his cheek against my stomach for hours at a time, talking to her — he was convinced it was going to be a girl, you see, he even had her name picked out and everything — telling her how she’d be the most loved girl in the entire Earth Kingdom. He promised that as long as he was there — as long as he was there, she’d never want for anything. He’d take care of her no matter what. Even though he never met her, he loved her so much, to the point that Kuei got jealous of how his father spent all of his time waiting for an unborn baby to kick so that he could feel like she heard him. That's why they went to the zoo together, he hated seeing Kuei so upset, but then…”
She broke down into tears, covering her mouth with her hands and rocking back and forth on the bed as sobs wracked her body. Chhay watched her, waiting for her to compose herself. It took her a second, but eventually, she did so, taking deep, crackling breaths before finishing off the last of the milk and handing it back to Chhay.
“Thank you again,” she said. “I’m sorry for burdening you with all of that. Please be well. If you have a wife, remember to tell her you love her.”
“I will do that,” he said, leaving the queen to continue sobbing alone in the chambers she had once shared with the king. The door shut behind him with a note of finality, and he trained his gaze on the pewter bottom of the cup so that he did not have to look up.
It was fine. Long Feng said that nothing would happen to the child. It was that kind of poison which he had fed to the queen, a rare one that worked in peculiar ways, and so he had no reason to feel guilty. He hadn’t killed an innocent baby. He hadn’t killed anyone innocent at all. He had only done what the Grand Secretariat demanded him too.
The very next day, the queen fell sick. The best physicians in the kingdom were called to look at her, but none of them could discern what the matter was. She held on admirably, he had to admit, struggling to live for just long enough that she could be certain her child would survive.
She died the minute the young Princess Y/N was set in her arms. Chhay had been there, though he had hidden to watch her final moments, employing every bit of his Dai Li training to avoid detection.
“A girl,” the queen whispered, too weak to do anything but let the baby rest against her breast, her arms arranged around her daughter by one of the doctor’s. “So beautiful. You look just like him…”
The baby began to wail as she was abruptly ripped away from her mother, a wet nurse doing her best to soothe the girl. It was futile, though; she continued to cry and cry, as if she understood that the circumstances of her birth had been unfair, as if she could not bear to live without shrieking her frustrations to the world.
There was only one moment when she was silent, and it was when she locked eyes with Chhay. He thought he had been so well-concealed, but there was no doubt about it: Princess Y/N saw through him. Still wet with birthing fluid though she was, he nonetheless felt that, for just that one instant, he was staring at someone who knew what he had done and was judging him for it.
“Quynh!” you shouted breathlessly as you ran into the Den. She was awake immediately, her great head rising as she regarded your countenance. Her nose twitched, and then her eyes widened and she growled.
“Why is there blood on you, Y/N?” she said. “Were you attacked? Are you hurt? Who was it? Why did no guards step in to protect you?”
“No,” you said. “No, Quynh, I was the attacker. I’m the one who hurt someone else. I killed someone.”
“What?” she said.
“Captain Chhay of the Dai Li,” you said. “He’s the one who killed my father, as well as the assassin who came for me while I was in Ba Sing Se. He and Long Feng have been conspiring against my family for who knows how long! I was caught in Ba Sing Se, so Long Feng assigned Chhay to be my guard, but I knew that if I dared to sleep in front of him, it might be my final act. I pretended I had had a nightmare to lure him closer and catch him off-guard, and then I — I — I killed him.”
The magnitude of the act was starting to sink in, and your vision swam the longer you stared at the rust staining your palms. Wiping it off on your dress was futile; though your skin was clean, you were not. You had killed a man.
“Shh, it’s alright,” Quynh said, quick to pick up on your every shift in mood. “It’s alright, Y/N.”
“What have I done?” you said. “I killed him! I killed a person! What does that make me?”
“You did what you had to,” she said. “What would have become of you if you did not? What would have become of Kuei?”
“He must’ve had people who cared for him,” you said, pacing back and forth, rubbing your hands against your skirt. “There must be people who will wonder why he hasn’t come home. Even Chin the Conqueror was someone’s son; doesn’t that mean Captain Chhay was, too? And I killed him.”
“But weren’t you someone’s daughter?” Quynh said. “Until he stole that from you, that is? As you said, he killed your father. He is directly the reason why you have suffered so greatly, why Ba Sing Se has suffered so greatly.”
“I still ended his life,” you said. “Doesn’t that mean I’m a monster?”
“No,” Quynh said. “You cannot be faulted, princess. Understand this now, and understand it well: if you want to save your kingdom, then this will not be the last time you kill. In order to ensure peace, you must mete out death in equal measure. How many men do you think I have torn apart with my claws? More than you can count. More men than years I have lived. If I allowed myself to be lost in regrets, then I would be paralyzed with doubts or dead from indecision. The truth is that if a person threatens me or the people I love, then I cannot allow them to exist. It must be the same for you.”
Captain Chhay had killed your father. Captain Chhay would’ve killed you. He would’ve killed your brother, the only family you had left, the only person in the entire world who you were certain loved you as much as you loved him.
“I could not allow him to exist,” you repeated, the conviction chipping away at your lingering doubts. “When he was so set on my family’s destruction, I could not allow him to exist.”
“That’s right,” she said.
“But I don’t want to be like that,” you said. “I don’t want to kill the people I’m responsible for protecting. I don’t want to kill more men than I can count.”
“You needn’t,” she said. “Sometimes, though, it cannot be helped. I am not telling you to kill senselessly, without reason or justification. All I am saying is that if you must do it, then do not linger on it.”
Quynh was a spirit, and one born of Father Glowworm’s powers to boot. Her morality was tainted by the immense time she had lived and the malevolent source of her power. What did it matter to her if a man died now or in twenty years, when to her, those twenty years would pass in the blink of an eye?
“I will do what I must,” you said. “For my people. For the Earth Kingdom, and also for its king. Yet I do not think I can ever forget how it makes me feel. I do not think I will ever stop wishing I did not have to do it.”
“If you did forget, then you would cease to be yourself,” she said. “I do not want that for you.”
She was right. If you became the kind of person that killed without thought, that murdered without care for the consequences of those actions, then you would no longer be Princess Y/N. You would be another girl entirely, and the very thought made you shudder.
So you would kill, if that was what the situation demanded. If it meant protecting yourself, your home, your brother, or whatever else you deemed to be of import, then you would kill again, as you had tonight. Of course, it was not a decision which was lightly made, but one which was necessary. It was one that only you could make — you, the princess, the bender, the girl who cared for her subjects more than anyone.
“I have to go,” you said. “At any moment, they’re going to find Captain Chhay’s body and realize I’m gone, and I have to be far away by then.”
“Where will you go?” Quynh said.
“Ba Sing Se,” you said. “I have to go back. There’s things I have to do in the city. A person I have to explain things to — after all, I might not ever see him again, not if things go the way I need them to. And then, after that, there’s another person whose help I require, and I must go to him and ask him for it directly.”
It seemed counterintuitive, but the truth was there was no time safer to go to Ba Sing Se than now. Nobody would dare to be seen on the streets, not in the wake of the Dai Li’s brutal suppression of the earlier riot, and you had until the morning before Captain Chhay’s body was discovered. The night was yours to do with as you pleased, and you had to take as much advantage of it as you could before the sun rose and you were once again hunted by Long Feng and the Dai Li.
“You’re risking your life to explain things?” Quynh said. “You’ve already been caught once and already been nearly killed numerous times. Who is so deserving of an explanation that you will go to them in spite of that?”
“You know already,” you said. “But as I said, it’s not just him. The only way I can help Kuei in any way that matters is if you let me do this. I’m aware of the danger. I’m frightened beyond belief. But I have to do it.”
“It’s foolhardy,” she said.
“Yes,” you said.
“You’re drunk on the rush of victory,” she said. “You might’ve been able to catch Captain Chhay by surprise, but do you think you could face the Dai Li if they swarmed you?”
“I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “Perhaps not.”
“Reckless girl. Rash girl. Why must you be so similar to your father? Why do you never listen to those who advise you?” she said. You startled when you saw that she was weeping as she spoke.
Even though Quynh had never met your father, she had known him, as she knew all of those who were descended from Shan. She had loved him, too, loved every one of your family’s members as her children, and she had told you once that she could feel all of your deaths as stabs in the heart. She had felt his death like a stab in the heart.
“The Earth Kingdom was doing alright when my father was its ruler, wasn’t it?” you said. “Maybe things weren’t perfect, but they were okay. Being compared to him isn’t the worst thing.”
It was the grief that naturally accompanied vengeance. Your father’s killer was finally dead, but that didn’t mean your father was coming back. He would never come back. Your father was gone, and it was for that reason that Quynh was crying as she opened the door to Ba Sing Se.
“Thank you,” you said, and then, because you were overwhelmed with a bout of emotion from seeing her weep, you said, “I love you, Quynh.”
“I love you, too,” she said. “Go, before you are out of time and Long Feng finds you again.”
You shoved aside your misgivings and began to run as fast as you could down the passageway she opened for you. There was not a second to waste, and so you sprinted at top speed, praying you’d reach him in time, praying he didn’t hate you now that he knew who you really were. He couldn’t, right? After all, he had protected you during the riot. He had found out then who you were, and he had still protected you.
The door deposited you by the fountain, but you did not linger there as you once might’ve. Bowing your head and hunching your shoulders, you scurried down the street, staying in the shadows, though there was no real reason to fret. All of the houses had their doors and windows tightly shut, and the few stores which hadn’t been destroyed in the riot had long since closed for the night. If there was anyone left in the city who could recognize you, they were nowhere to be found.
You reached the tea shop in record time. Recalling that they lived in the apartment above the store, you looked around, trying to figure out where the door was. After all, the tea house itself was locked, and you weren’t about to break in, so you had to find an alternate method of entering that wasn’t the staircase you knew was located by the kitchen.
When your search proved fruitless, you took off one of your shoes, winding your arm back and aiming at the window. It was the only way you knew how to get his attention; however, there was an off-chance that the window was actually his uncle’s, which would be unfortunate. You wavered, suddenly doubting yourself and your methods, though of course you were limited in the scope of what you could do.
You had just about made up your mind to go ahead and throw the shoe anyways and hope that it was the right window, but that second of hesitation was all it took for an arm to wrap around your waist and a hand to cover your mouth, yanking you alongside your invisible assailant as they ran into the alleyways of the Lower Ring. Out of reflex, you screamed, but it was muffled by the attacker’s gloved palm, and though you struggled against their grip, you were not successful in breaking free.
Had the Dai Li found you again? Was Long Feng aware that you were missing? What had they thought of Captain Chhay’s death? What would they do to you now? If you had already proven too wild for a guard, then what fate was left for you — prison? Execution? Assassination? Obviously, that wasn’t something they were above. Would you face the same fate as your father after all?
You had just resolved to bend glass again when you realized that you weren’t heading towards the palace. Instead, the mysterious person had veered down a road that led towards a place you held familiar and dear: the fountain. The fountain! Did they want to kill you somewhere you had been happy? Were the Dai Li interested in poetry and theater to that extent? Because it felt more like a story than anything.
But when you emerged into the firelight of the deserted fountain, you realized that the person who had dragged you all of this way wasn’t a Dai Li agent. It was someone else, someone far more agreeable if not unexpected, and so, as you reached the fountain’s edge and he slowed his pace, you began to cry.
He stopped in his tracks, obviously alarmed by the development, but then he took in your appearance, and though he wore a mask, it was clear that he was horrified by what he saw. Bloody handprints on your nightgown, splashes of the same on your shins, possessed with only one slipper…you must’ve seemed like an entirely different person than the girl he had come to know.
“You scared me,” you hiccuped. “I thought you were the Dai Li. I thought you were going to kill me. Why did you do that? I’ve been so frightened all day, and you only made it — I’ve been so — I thought—”
Your stomach threatened to turn itself inside out as you sobbed, your fingers digging into his back, your tears soaking through his shirt as the world crashed down around you. You had almost died. You had almost died. You had almost died.
“I can’t stay for long,” you said, contradicting the way you could not bring yourself to let go. “I can’t stay for long at all. I’m in danger, and by being in danger, I am putting you in danger, too. I shouldn’t even have come in the first place, but I wanted — that tea shop idiot. I wanted to see him again.”
The Blue Spirit was gentle when he held you, unlike the last time he had tried to comfort you. He was like a wall, something solid that refused to move even as everything else was ruined around it. It was only by leaning on that wall that you could manage to keep yourself together, and so, despite Quynh’s warning, despite how the minutes dragged on, you did not pull away.
“After tonight, I might not ever see you again,” you said. “There’s a chance this’ll be the last time. I don’t know what’s going to happen. To me. To Ba Sing Se. Any of it. Tomorrow’s sunrise could be the last one I witness.”
The Blue Spirit held your face in his hands, cradling it like a glass sculpture, and there were so many things you still had left to say to him. A thousand things. A million things. Or, if you thought about it, really only one thing.
“Please,” you said. “Let me see your face. If this is the last time, then let us meet truly. Let me understand who you really are.”
You weren’t sure what you were hoping to see. Maybe you weren’t hoping to see anything at all. You just wanted to know. Once and for all, you wanted to know. The man who had given you jasmine flowers. The man who had run with you on moonlit rooftops. The man who had saved your life. Who was he really?
He ducked his head towards you, and you raised your trembling hands to untie his mask, your fingers fumbling with the carefully bound knot until it was finally unwound, pushing his hood back off of his dark, shaggy hair, revealing his face to you for the first time.
No. Not for the first time. It was a face you knew so well, for you had spent so long admiring it. Eyes like gold. Extraordinary features, fine and strong in equal parts. And, most notably, a large burn scar on the left half of his face, which you placed your hand against.
“Lee,” you whispered. “It’s you. It’s been you this entire time.”
Quynh had been right, though she had not recognized the extent of it when she had said it. You had always known. There had never been a dilemma, because they were one and the same. The person who saved your life. The person who made it worth living. They were the same.
“You — you say that you understand, but do you accept it?” he said, voice breaking. He was quoting The Mask of the Blue Spirit, you realized, and unbidden, a lump formed in your throat. He was afraid, and so he was asking the same question that the titular character asked Jin. “Now that you have seen how hideous my true visage is, what will you do?”
You tossed the mask to the ground and pushed the hand resting on his scar back, so that it could instead make its home tangled in his hair. Reaching up with the awkward inexperience that came from your many years of solitude, you pressed your lips against his own in a soft kiss.
It was brief. Flitting. Like spun sugar on your tongue, you barely tasted him for a moment before he was pulling back, searching your eyes with his own, disbelief etched on his expression. You allowed yourself to smile at him until tentatively, he smiled back. It transformed his face, that smile, turning it kind and filling it with light.
“Why did you wear a mask?” you said. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
“At first, it was an accident. I used the disguise to steal jasmine flowers for my uncle from a nearby abandoned garden, and that’s where I saw you that first time. But after that…it was because I thought that who I was was someone you wouldn’t like knowing,” he said.
“How could you think that?” you said. This time when you embraced him, your cheek lay against his own instead of the cool material of his mask, and the rise and fall of his body felt natural instead of mechanical.
“I just didn’t want to lose the — the way you made me feel,” he confessed against the skin of your shoulder. “No matter what, I couldn’t lose that.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the horizon was beginning to lighten. The sun was beginning its steady ascent, and soon it would be in the sky in earnest. You had to leave now to have any hope of making it to the Upper Ring before the rest of the world awoke, but it wasn’t fair. You needed more time. You needed an entire lifetime with him. How could you lose him so soon after finding him?
“I can’t stay,” you said. “I can’t stay any longer.”
“Don’t go,” he said. “Anyone that comes for you, we can deal with. Stay here and let them try; they will find themselves on the wrong end of my swords.”
“I won’t do that to you,” you said. “I won’t make you fight my battles any longer.”
“Then promise this won’t be the last time I’ll see you,” he said. “Promise that you’ll tell me what happened to you in the palace and why you are in this state. Promise that we will meet again.”
You kissed him once more, and this time, he did not draw away but kissed you back with equal fervor, his mouth hot and searing against yours, burning his desperation, his anger, his sorrow, into you. And this time, it was you who pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, clutching the fabric of his shirt to stabilize yourself.
“I don’t know if I will be able to come to Ba Sing Se again. Not in the daylight, and certainly not for a while,” you said. “But there is a way.”
“What is it?” he said, stroking your cheeks, your hair, your neck and your back, every part of you that he could conceivably reach. “What other way?”
“You can come to the palace,” you said. “You can come see me.”
“They’ll never let me in,” he said.
“They don’t need to,” you said. “There is another entrance. One that only you can find.”
“Quynh’s Door?” he said, his voice ticking up with uncertainty.
“Yes,” you said. “Quynh’s Door. You are loved by someone of Shan’s line, Lee. You can come and go to the palace as you please.”
“I’ll come,” he said, and there was no uncertainty remaining in his voice when he did so. “I swear I will.”
“Good,” you said. “I’ll be waiting. I swear I will be.”
By the time the sun peeked out over the rooftops and people re-emerged to go about their daily lives, you and Lee were both long gone.
Neither of you would ever return to that fountain again.
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DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol.5 Sakamaki Laito Animate Tokuten CD
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Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol. 5 逆巻ライト アニメイト 各巻購入特典ドラ
Source: Diabolik Lovers Para-Selene Vol. 5 Animate Tokuten CD
Audio: Here
Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke 
Translator’s note: Bowling master Laito kind of threw me for a loop, but it also makes sense? Like he strikes me as the type of guy who would be unexpected skilled at a bunch of random things. In general, I’ve been really enjoying these ‘date scenario’ CDs. They actually did a good job making every one of them unique and choosing fun locations for each boy. I know the chances of us getting another DL anime are really slim, but if they do decide to make one, I really hope it’s not a season 3 based on DF or LE but a bunch of OVAs instead based on the drama CDs.
“...What’s this? There’s quite a lot of people here despite it being so late at night. I guess bowling is pretty popular. I thought I’d be able to do all sorts of fun things with my Bitch-chan, such a shame! ーー Ah! Our lane is over here. Ah! Check out the monitor over there! It actually displays our names as ‘Laito’ and ‘Bitch’! I love your name. It really stands out amongst the others! I would have loved to be able to input ‘Bitch-chan’ instead, honestly. I felt pretty bummed when they told me that I could only input up to five characters. Right, Bitch-chan?”
You frown. 
“...? You’ve been quiet this whole time. What’s wrong? Did you want me to add the ‘-chan’ as well?”
You shake your head.
“Then what’s the matter?”
You complain about him wanting to come here. 
“Eeh~? Is it really that strange? Even I feel like playing a game of bowling every now and then. There’s no ulterior motive behind it!”
You squint your eyes. 
“Oh dear. You’re still suspicious of me? ...Fine. I’ll fess up the truth. ーー We actually gave here today because I wanted to do you a favor.”
You tilt your head to the side.
“Mmh. We’re usually active at night, so most places where high schoolers like to hang out are closed by that hour, no? So we’re limited in the things we can do, right? Well, you might be fine with that, but you’re still a blossoming high school girl, so I figured that you might fantasize about the kind of cute dates depicted in shoujo manga and such. ーー I thought it wouldn’t hurt to go on a typical high schoolers’ date for once, so I started looking around for places which are open 24/7, which brings us here today. How’s that? Do you understand now?”
You nod.
“Nfu~ I’m glad. With that misunderstanding lifted...Now that we’re here anyway, why don’t we get started? I’m up first, aren’t I? Let me think...Which ball should I pick? ーー Ah. This one will do.”
*Thud* 
“It has the same color as your hair. I’ll throw it as hard as I can, imagining its your head instead~”
You protest.
“Nfu~ Oh come on, you may say that, but I know you’re happy deep down! You love to get pushed around by me, don’t you? ...Ah! When it’s your turn, why don’t you pick a ball in the same color as my hair? I don’t dislike the idea of being at your mercy either~”
You refuse. 
“Geez...You’d be able to get so much more of of life if you just enjoy it as one of many fetishes. You’re so easily embarrassed. Fine. ...I’ll throw the ball, okay?”
Laito faces towards the lane.
“Let me think...I’m supposed to throw it leaning down...or from up top? 
You seem surprised he has never bowled before. 
“Eh!? Bitch-chan...Do you really think I’ve come to this sorta place before? Today’s obviously my first bowling experience!”
*Rustle*
“But don’t worry! Experience isn’t what matters...It’s all about chemistry...!”
Laito throws his ball.
*Clatter clatter*
“Huh? I knocked all of them over. Is this what you’d call a ‘strike’?”
You seem very impressed.
“...Nfu~ I got praised~ Anyway, is this really so amazing?”
You nod.
“Heeh...I wonder if I am a natural at bowling? Control is key, so it might be the perfect game some someone who is very technique-minded such as myself. In that case, I’m quite curious what you are capable of, Bitch-chan~”
You frown.
“Now, now, no need to be so modest. Show me what you’re made of. Go give it a shot! ...Nfu~ I’m very much looking forward to this.”
You walk towards the lane.
“Break a leg, Bitch-chan~! Throw it with everything you’ve got!” 
You throw the ball. 
*Thud thud* 
“Nfu~ Ah-ahー I guess the excitement ended up being her downfall. What a shame. ...They call this a ‘gutter’, don’t they? I can’t believe you didn’t even manage to knock over one of them. ...Ah, come on. One more try, no?”
*Thud* 
You try once more.
*THUD*
“Ahー You really suck at this, don’t you?”
You seem disappointed.
“No need to be so sad. My strike might have been just a fluke. I’ll go next, so watch me, okay?”
Laito walks up to the lane again. 
“...Hah!”
*CLATTER*
“Aah~ I guess it wasn’t just beginner’s luck! I might have a knack for bowling after all! ...In that case, Bitch-chan, why don’t you come over here with your ball?”
You pick up your ball and approach him.
“Okay! Let’s practice how to hold the ball!”
*Rustle*
“Geez, no need to be so surprised. We came here to treat you to a good time today, so I’ll teach you very gently~ Come on, hold the ball.”
*Rustle*
“Hmー That won’t do.”
*Rustle rustle*
“You need to stretch your arm a little more.”
You try to scoot away from him, asking why he is touching you.
“What are you saying? I’m fixing your posture! I think I proved earlier that my bowling skills far exceed yours, so don’t you think it’s in your best interest to take my advice?” 
You frown.
“I mean, it’d be kind of difficult to tell you what to do without clinging to you like this, is it? I’m positive that it’d be so much easier to teach you good posture through direct touch!”
*Rustle*
“Come on, lean back against me and stand straight.”
*Rustle*
“Don’t move! You want to be able to throw the ball properly don’t you?”
You tell him to move away. 
“How mean, telling me to back off! I’m only trying to show my good heart by teaching you! I mean, if you lose this duel against me, you’ll get punished, remember?”
You seem surprised by that. 
“I mean, duh? Didn’t I tell you? All games have some kind of punishment game attached to it, don’t they? You have to expect those kind of things! By the way, now that you’ve already thrown once, you’re part of the game, so there’s no backing out~”
You ask him if he would punish you right here in public.
“Fufu~ Why would you ask that? ーー I get it. You’re curious about what this punishment would entail, aren’t you~? Were you perhaps hoping that I’d suck your blood~?”
You deny it.
“Nfu~ No point in trying to deny it~ I bet you imagined my fangs sinking deeply into your fair nape, didn’t you? Aah~ I suppose I have no other choice. That wasn’t the plan, but I’ll live up to your expectations and make the punishment something deliciously painful~ Please look forward to this punishment...which will turn both your body and soul to putty~”
You try to make a run for it.
*Rustle rustle* 
“Ahaha~ Oh come on, hold up! I told you that there’s no way out, didn’t you? You better behave...or I’ll do it right here, right now.”
You immediately stop resisting. 
“Nfu~ Good girl. Besides, there’s only a 50% chance that you’ll get punished, so just remember that you could always win and try to make the best out of it!”
You sigh in defeat.
“Well then, let’s continue your lesson. Now, where’s your spine?”
*Rustle*
“Nfu~ Found it~ Mm~
*Rustle rustle* 
“What are you saying? I’m helping you straighten your back! By tracing my fingers across your spine like this...See? You pushed out your chest which improved your stance! Try to hold this proper posture, okay?”
You ask him if he knows what hte proper posture for bowling is.
“Eh? No idea! How am I supposed to know what is the ‘right posture’ for bowling when I’m still a newbie at the game myself.”
You ask him what he has been teaching you then. 
“You’re just so terrible at this, I’ve just been giving you random points and then it was up to you whether or not you’d take my words for granted. ...Anyway, ahaha~ They’re really hard to miss when you’re standing looking straight ahead like that.”
You tilt your head to side.
“Over here. These bite marks on・your・neck~”
You squeak.
“They’re the proof of the love we share with each other every night~ It’s too bad you can’t really see them unless you move this close. I promise I’ll make them stand out even more by biting you nice and hard when we get back home, so rest assured~”
You complain. 
“You’re adorable when you pretend to dislike something. However, no losing on purpose because you want to get bitten ,okay?”
You insist that you would never do that. 
“I wonder~? You’re a naughty girl who seduces other by feigning discomfort. You want me to completely overpower you, run away with the victory and inflict pain upon you as a result, don’t you? And then you’d try to play innocent by saying ‘Oh I don’t actually want this, but it can’t be helped because I lost the game~', won’t you? ...Sure. Two can play that game. I like that sort of thing as well after all. I’ll make sure to slowly drive you into a corner...and then tease the living hell out・of・you~”
Your cheeks grow hot.
“Oh? What’s wrong? ...Nfu~ You’re flustered, aren’t you? Oh come, you are so shy~ ...Anyway, let’s get this game going! Try throwing the ball following my tips from earlier.”
You nod and throw the ball. 
*CLATTER CLATTER*
“Wow~ You actually knocked them all over! I’m shocked!” 
You rejoice.
“Nfu~ Congratulations, Bitch-chan. Judging from your sheer excitement, could it be that this is the first time you’ve ever hit a strike?”
You nod.
“Mmh, mmh~ I’m happy for you! In that case, why don’t we end on a positive note and wrap up the match right here? It’s obvious you’ll lose after all.”
You protest.
“I mean, even if continue to bowl one strike after the other now, you already threw a gutter once, so you have no chance at getting ahead of me.There’s no way I’d give away the win now.”
You shake your head. 
“Ah~ We can keep going until I have a slip-up if you want, but in return, your punishment will get more and more severe, the longer the game lasts. I believe you’d be much better off admitting defeat right now and simply heading home with me. 
I’m fine with either scenario. We’re here on a date today for you after all. You can choose whether you want to call it a day right now and quickly get your punishment, or if you’d rather have me tend to you thoroughly after I’ve messed with you a little longer.”
You call him out on being unreasonable. 
“Nfu~ Exactly. I might be messed up. But you love this crazy guy, don’t you? In which case, you have no other choice but to play along with me and slowly become insane as well.”
You sigh.
“Fufu~ Since you sighed in defeat, does that mean you’ve made your choice?”
You choose to go home. 
“Nfu~ Sure. As you wish. Well then...Shall we head home, Bitch-chan~? I’ll treat you to plenty of the good stuff which you love oh-so much~”
ーー THE END ーー
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slutforsilverfoxes · 7 months
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Letters From the Sky
[A/N: Bruv I so rarely write angst because I am a weakling and it makes me Big Sad, but this has been floating around in my drafts and I just binge watched a bunch of NCIS episodes that made me cry so 🤲🏽 a ficlet for u, here u go. It's not really the saddest ending so there's that, at least? I hope? I sorry] Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x wife!reader TW: references to funerals/loss, implied character death
__________
Settling down on the couch in your living room, you tuck your knees underneath one of your husband’s old USMC hoodies and create a makeshift table out of your lap. Writing a letter can help you deal with your emotions, help you move on with life, your mother had advised, and so here you were, pen in hand, staring at the blank piece of paper before you. Hi, I love you and I miss you didn’t quite cut it. And were you supposed to keep adding to the letter daily, filling him in on your life? Was time passing differently for him? How long would it be until you heard his voice again? Could you ask your friend for her thoughts, or would your questions bring up too many bad memories? Head growing fuzzy and eyes growing watery from your endless stream of questions with no answers in sight, you opted to just start writing. Foregoing a greeting, figuring your husband would know exactly who this was from, you let out a deep breath and put pen to paper. 
Funerals are such a funny thing, aren’t they, Jethro? The many faces from your past and present gathered around to celebrate life, lament loss, and say things aloud that they should’ve said to the person who needed to hear it most.
I miss you more than I could ever put into words. It was so strange being there today without you. How many of those solemn events did we attend together throughout the years? Family, friends, colleagues… Too many to count, and most of them senseless losses.
I don’t know how to keep going without you by my side, but it’s been such a blessing to be surrounded by your loved ones. We’ve been trading so many wonderful memories, stories about your fearless feats, your never-ending pursuit of justice, your stubborn nature, your devotion to those lucky enough to know you. I even met one of your former lovers after the funeral, and honey, let me tell you, we got to gossiping. Turns out you’re a regular Casanova, huh? It’s those steel blue eyes that keep you coming back for more, I swear.
I like to think that, even though we’re physically apart now, you can still hear me. After all, you always did say that about my optimism- “from your mouth to God’s ears, sweetheart”. Do you think, if I yelled loud enough, I could get a message delivered to you?
This big house feels even bigger without you. I guess I can think about it like those cases that would last for days, where I wouldn’t even get a glimpse of you until your perp was behind bars, but we both know it’s not quite the same. At least I can raid your closet without hearing you grumble about your favorite hoodies going missing- silver linings, my darling Jethro. I’m not sure how long they’ll keep smelling like you, but I’m determined not to wash them, just in case… My secret’s safe with you, right?
Speaking of secrets (more like hidden gems), I found a stash of Kelly’s artwork upstairs and I’ve started adding her drawings to the gallery of photos on the walls. I know I made some changes after we got married, but the sheer lack of decor when I moved in still astounds me. You’re such a man, she said lovingly.
Anyway, I think you’ll be pleased to know that
The sound of the front door opening alerts you to your friend’s return, and you hurry to jot down your last few thoughts.
Anyway, I think you’ll be pleased to know that your girls are all together in this big house of yours :) Hopefully, we’ll see you soon.
P.S. Not too soon. I know I call you my old man, but you’re not that old- yet.
Gibbs puts his truck in park on the driveway, returning home after another day added to the list of longest days of his life. He sits in the cab for a few prolonged minutes, trying to muster up the courage to enter your big house that feels even bigger now.
When he finally trudges up the walkway, he pauses with his hand on the doorknob and releases a heavy sigh before pushing the door open. And then, for just a split second, he swears he hears you calling his daughter’s name and her answering giggle overlapping with her mother’s voice.
The moment is fleeting, and no matter how hard he strains, he can’t conjure up the sound again. But the house feels warmer, lighter somehow.
And he smiles.
—————
LJG tags 🖤 @ilovemark1951 @doctorwhofan24
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pochipop · 8 months
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#HOMICIPHER !! ♡ — IN THIS SUNLESS MAZE, I'VE GIVEN MY TRUST TO YOU (MR CRAWLING X READER).
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#. synopsis! — you hit him with a crowbar in a moment of fear, but he cares and cares and cares .
#. characters! — mr crawling .
#. warnings! — canon-typical mentions of violence, spoilers for the homicipher game prologue/chapter one . (if you haven't played at least the prologue, i fear this will make absolutely negative sense.)
#. word count! — 1.9k .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw), @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
#. a/n! — come join my discord server? // i know this is not the content anyone is asking for from me but unfortunately i am in my dark and scary lover era and university is eating me alive, so pls go easy on me i am sensitive!!!
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The halls of this strange place are dark and dreary. The air is perpetually moist and it smells musty no matter where you go. Around every corner there’s something that makes your nose turn up in disgust, be it the cobwebs littering the ceilings from above, and subsequently the spiders resting all about them, or any of the other unsavory attributes this hell-hole has managed to acquire after being seemingly left to rot away for so long.
But you know you’re not alone here. Though you’re certain the residents you’ve come across aren’t truly human at all, —you know you’re not the only sentient creature here. For the sake of simplicity (and easing your weary mind of one thing, at the very least) you’ve taken to referring to them all as what they appear to resemble most: men. One walks the halls dressed in nothing but scarlet, carrying an umbrella to match his attire. You only caught a glimpse of him as he passed by, but a strange feeling overcame you when he sauntered through the dingy walkway, head facing straight forward like he was hyper-focused on something unseen just up ahead.
Though he was likely the most outwardly human-seeming of them all, you kept the farthest distance from him. If there was anything you had to rely on down here, it was your intuition, —and going near him was the exact opposite of smart decision making, according to your gut.
Another wore a grimy hood that smelled faintly of mildew and covered the entirety of his head, so much so that his face was completely shrouded by the shadow it cast down on him. . . If he even had a face at all, that is. It was an unsettling thought, but he was helpful in spite of your hesitancy, and he seemed to be guiding you in one direction or another. His voice was gravelly, sounding like he hadn’t used it in a long time. He made no move to accompany you past the small room you’d awoken in, but after encountering a plethora of oddities soon after leaving, you began to understand why.
Some were worse than others, like the man dressed in piercing red who made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Others spoke to you in spite of your inability to answer them in whatever native tongue they were using, appearing kind enough on the surface. You even half-heartedly followed the directions of a dismembered wrist and took the severed head of an auburn-haired male down a flight of janky stairs, almost tripping down the second flight when the lights flickered on and off overhead. It was a wonder the bulbs were still working, or that electricity still flowed through any of the wires of this place. Presumptuous as you may have been for it, none of those you encountered seemed like the type to work on circuitry. . .
Surprisingly expressive for being little more than a lowly head, you traded him off to a man with ghostly pale skin, silver-white hair, and bandages over his eyes that moved around just fine in spite of them. You sat with the two of them for a bit, receiving a lackluster language lesson that you didn’t retain much from, but thanked them for anyway on the off chance they might understand you somehow.
And then you high-tailed it out of the lowest level you’d been on thus far, narrowly avoiding an injection to the arm that you may or may not have accidentally agreed to. When you stopped to catch your breath, you found yourself concerned for the safety of a chopped head, —something you never thought you’d be worried about in your lifetime. Still though, the two of them had seemed cordial enough. . . Friendly, even, but a part of you feared you were anthropomorphizing entities much unlike yourself a bit too much.
Worse off, you barely circumvented the swipe of a strange hand with fingernails dirty enough to have colored themselves black that reached for your chest, —or, for the organ inside of it, rather. All that because you offered a weak smile to a creepy half-face peeking through the gap of a doorway.
Needless to say, you were done being naive by the time an oddly moving silhouette rounded the corner of the room you were hiding away in. After heaven knows how long of slipping between rooms and making generally poor choices, you’d come to the conclusion that enough was enough. The next thing that tried to test you, be it human, monster, or something else entirely, you were going to make them regret it. So you armed yourself with a rusty crowbar left behind in the rubble of the building and you tucked yourself away into a little cavern just barely wide enough for you to squeeze inside of. From the quick look you stole of it before slinking away inside, you could only assume it was the result of a half-finished wall demolition.
Steps came nearer, as if smelling you out like a bloodhound. Instinctively, you held your breath, hands shaking wildly, even as the hunched body rounded the corner and seemed to look at you through a mess of long, greasy, black hair. He only stumbled back slightly as you clipped his forehead with the crowbar. All things considered, it wasn’t much of a strike. It drew some blood, but had he been anything like you feared, he’d have clawed you to pieces there and then.
But he slumped back a little awkwardly, almost seeming dejected by your violence. When his forearm raised to his injured head, he mumbled something you couldn’t understand in a quiet, somber tone. A small amount of blood trickled down his forehead and he shuffled away just out of sight to sulk in the same corner you’d snagged the crowbar from. Now you just felt bad. So much had happened within your short time here, and you’d gone and taken it out on the only creature who didn’t seem to have any ill intentions toward you. And perhaps worst of all, you didn’t even have the vocabulary to properly apologize.
“Um. . .” you utter nervously, crouching down to his height, “I’m sorry. I thought. . .”
And then you trail off, realizing that it doesn’t really matter what you say anyway. It’s not like he understands you, and it’s not as if you’re in any position to be asking for forgiveness from someone you just bludgeoned with a rusty crowbar.
The way he turns at the sound of your voice nearly causes you to jump out of your skin. It’s not that he’s ugly, —his appearance is just. . . Alarming. Pair it with the location you’ve found yourself at, the inability to navigate this god forsaken building to any degree of efficiency, and recent previous encounters with those much like him, and you have yourself a recipe for disaster.
He’s responsive to the softness of your tone in a way you hadn’t expected, shuffling around until he’s facing your direction. His features are hidden behind the mess of his hair, and he moves toward you again, almost like he’s trying to figure out if he can trust you or not.
When you shift a bit, he shrinks back, but you utter another apology and do your best to remain still thereafter so as not to frighten him away. He wipes some blood from his forehead and slathers it onto the dirty floor, then comes close enough to touch you, leaving some smears of crimson in his wake. His placement is firm against your thigh, but it doesn’t feel salacious in the slightest. His hands are cold, but there’s a warmth he exudes that you can’t quite explain nor put your finger on.
Maybe it isn’t the smartest move you’ve ever made, —but you’re going with your gut again, and it’s telling you that this time it’s okay to test the waters.
There’s no malice in the way he kneels before you, head tilting up so he can see your eyes through his stringy hair. He smells faintly of metal from the blood on his forehead and hand, but it’s nothing that won’t go away after he cleans himself up. That lingering scent of mildew that the hooded man also had might stick around, though. . .
In a place like this, you’re sure it can’t really be helped.
“I’m sorry,” you say again, even if he can’t make sense of it. “You scared me, is all. I shouldn’t have hit you.”
There’s nothing in particular he does to indicate that he understands what you’re blabbering about, but he moves a bit closer again, invading your space to touch your shoulders. Thankfully, that wound you gave him seems to be superficial at most.
He says something, but you can’t make sense of it, so you stare at him blankly. He repeats it, a bit louder this time, and you shake your head.
“I don’t understand,” you reply.
He likely doesn’t either, and you’re playing a game of cat and mouse, but he doesn’t seem to mind much. His lingering touch is more curious than anything else, traveling from your shoulders down the length of your arms, then fiddling with each of your fingers on either hand.
You find yourself wondering what he is, —how he got here, what he’s thinking, what any of his unfamiliar words might mean. All things considered, he’s being exponentially gentle with you. Somehow, you come a little undone as a result. All the adrenaline has faded and you find yourself tearing up, the realization of your situation sinking you under all at once in a way it somehow hadn’t before. When you were moving through the halls and the stairways, there’d always been something to focus on, but now that you’ve come to this standstill with him, it’s impossible to keep yourself from unraveling a bit.
A soft sniffle makes his head snap upward, and he cups your cheeks in either of his cool hands. His nails are long and they sit against your skin so gently, though you know he could use them to rip at your flesh at any moment if he really wanted to. But he doesn’t.
His head tilts to the side like a small, confused animal, and he mumbles something that you obviously can’t comprehend.
He’s a bit rough as he wipes the tears from your eyes, but you’re almost certain it’s unintentional. Though he’s strange and you don’t understand a lick of what he says to you, —you find yourself feeling grateful for his presence. It’s the first time since you found yourself stranded here that you don’t feel so alone.
One of his hands moves away from your face, instead planting itself on the crown of your head. He stills for a moment, then drags his hand along your hair, as if petting a kitten or a puppy dog. You don’t complain, instead offering him a sad smile, which he returns (although his is much more unsettling.)
“Thank you,” you say, even though he can’t decipher it.
After a moment longer, he shuffles back toward the room’s opening and gestures toward the hall. You can only assume he’s trying to lead you somewhere, and you make the decision to trust him for the time being. Though he’s odd-looking and moves only by crawling on all fours, there’s something comforting about the idea of being less lost at sea with no one to help guide you through the maze that surrounds you.
Thus, you pull yourself to your feet and move toward the doorway, readying yourself for whatever comes next.
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