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nataliasquote · 3 months

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Double the trouble | a day out | n romanoff

Part of the ‘Double the trouble AU’

Summary: a day trip with 2 3-year-olds is a lot to handle…

Warnings: none

Pairings: WandaNat

wc: 2.9k

note: this was a request from anon (my first request!) so I hope I did it justice

- ⧗ -

Isla was always the loudest twin. She had all her firsts before her sister; word, steps, you name it, she beat Y/n to it. Which often left the younger girl feeling behind and unworthy, born to only follow in the shadows of her twin sister.

Natasha and Wanda tried their hardest to treat their girls equally, but with Y/n’s reluctance to try anything new and Isla’s strong temperament, they had a difficult situation on their hands.

Being three years old meant days were filled with trips to the park and fun days out for the whole family. Isla had been begging to go to the zoo, the colourful picture books she begged Wanda to read every night cementing her love for animals. Y/n nodded when asked if she wanted to go too. But what was she supposed to say? She did everything Isla did.

But the zoo wasn’t her thing. Whilst her older sister toddled around and pointed animatedly at all the different animals, Y/n stayed beside the stroller, her tiny hands fiddling with the fabric seat as she stared at the concrete pavement. Natasha tried her hardest to involve her, often picking her up so she could see over the fences and pointing to the monkeys who were chasing each other around the enclosure. But the little girl was having none of it, her fist wrapped around the strap of her mama’s tank top.

“What’s the matter maylshka?” Natasha asked, holding Y/n tight to her body as she lead them both over to a nearby bench. “I thought you loved the zoo?”

The small girl shook her head, flaming hair falling loose from its braids. “Isla like zoo. Not me.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed as she looked at her daughter. “But you said you wanted to go?”

Y/n gave her mother a glare. A very familiar one at that. “No. Isla said go. Not me.”

Natasha shifted so her daughter was now sat on her knee. She gently moved a stray piece of hair from her forehead and kissed it gently, rubbing the soft cotton of her t-shirt. “I’m sorry malyshka. I thought you wanted to go too.”

“It’s ok Mama,” Y/n said, placing her cool palms on her mother’s warm cheeks. Natasha smiled softly at the gesture and booped her on the nose, making the young girl giggle. “Can we get ice cream?”

Natasha pretended to think for a moment. “Ice cream? Hmmm, I don’t know.”

“I think yes!”

“Do you? And does Y/n make the rules now?”

The young girl nodded happily, her whole body moving with the force. “Ice cream!”

“Ok, big girl. Let’s get ice cream.” Natasha stood up from her seat and began to set Y/n down on the ground, but the three year old clung to her front like the monkeys behind her, tiny heels digging into Natasha’s waist. There were many things Nat loved about her youngest, but Y/n’s clingy nature was by far her favourite. It made her feel wanted, important.

With a stroller handle in one hand and a child balanced carefully in the other, Nat set off towards the jungle themed cafe she’d spotted on the map by the gate. Wanda had taken Isla off to god knows where, the young girl unable to sit still with so much happening around her.

The cafe itself was rather busy so Natasha expertly manoeuvred the stroller into a corner booth table and kicked the brake down so it wouldn’t roll into anyone’s way. She sank down onto the cushioned blue seat and allowed Y/n to straddle her lap, soft red hair tickling her nostrils as the young girl lay against her mother’s chest.

Natasha quickly scanned her surroundings before pulling out her phone and punching a quick update text to Wanda, who replied back with a video of Isla at the penguin enclosure.

“Look Y/n,” she turned her phone so the young girl could see but Y/n didn’t pay much attention. She watched for two seconds before her head went straight back to Natasha’s collarbone, finding more comfort there than anywhere else. “You’re really not bothered by the zoo, huh?”

Y/n shook her head lazily, her thumb coming up to brush against her lips, a telltale sign for Natasha who was well trained in motherhood.

“I think someone’s tired?” Another sleepy nod. “You wanna go for a nap, detka?” Talking was clearly too much for Y/n, who only replied with yet another nod. Natasha took her response and pulled the stroller close. However, she was met with some resistance as she tried to transfer a now squirmy three year old into her seat. “What’s wrong?”

“-na stay with you,” Y/n mumbled around her thumb before Nat gently prised it out of her mouth. Y/n’s big green eyes blinked up at her tiredly and Natasha couldn’t help but coo at the sight. Her girls were the most adorable things in her life and when they were tired they were so precious.

Nat moved her body back into the corner of the booth and allowed Y/n to swivel around so she was flat against her chest, cheek resting comfortably on the softness of Natasha’s chest. They may not be fed like that anymore, but the twins still found great comfort from their mamas’ chests.

It didn’t take long for Y/n’s breaths to even out and Natasha couldn’t help but take a quick selfie with her daughter, the moment too precious to capture. She stared at her screen with a blissful expression before posting it to her close friends’ instagram story. Only family and the occasional friend was allowed on there, and Yelena of course was the first to send a reply.

@ yelenabelova7

you better be bringing those munchkins to me soon. I want baby Y/n hugs too

Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed as she replied, flawlessly typing even with one hand.

@ natromanoff

i’m impressed you got the twin right. and i’m not putting them on a plane so you’ll have to come here. I know isla would love that.

@ yelenabelova7

I can’t believe you doubt me Natasha. I know my Y/n when I see her. Besides, she’s always clinging to you. You got the quiet one. Wanda has her hands full with the other monkey

@ natromanoff

They’re both our children, Lena. Wands is just happy to be dragged around a zoo. I’d rather sit

@ yelenabelova7

HA! You’re getting old sestra. You’re a mother, not a grandma. Not yet anyway.

Yelena’s comment made Natasha roll her eyes and place her phone down on the table. She cradled Y/n’s head to her chest and rocked her gently back and forth. A smile broke out across her face as she spotted her wife push through the large glass doors, Isla tugging on her arm impatiently.

Natasha held a finger up to her lips as her favourite girls approached, trying not to disturb her youngest. But her efforts were in vain as Y/n recognised the approaching voices and lifted her head to peer around. Wanda bent down and kissed her head softly, brushing her hair back as she pulled away.

“Hello sleepy head,” she cooed, taking a seat on the opposite bench and pulling Isla onto her lap. “Did the ice cream make you sleepy?”

“We didn’t even get that far, did we?” Natasha laughed, watching as Y/n’s head perked up at the mention of the sweet dessert.

“Can we get it now?”

Wanda looked down at Isla. “You wanna get some with me and we can bring it back for Y/n and Mama?”

“Sure!”

“Me go too!” Y/n squirmed off Natasha’s lap and ran over to Wanda, taking the hand on her other side. “Mama stay?” She asked, looking back at Natasha.

The redhead nodded. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Wanda led the twins away like a mother duck and her ducklings, holding their hands tight until they reached the large glass cabinet. The young woman behind the counter smiled at the precious sight in front of her as the twins stretched up on their toes to peer in.

“Pink!” Y/n exclaimed, pointing to the candy floss ice cream that sounded disgusting in Wanda’s eyes. “Can I get pink?”

“Mommy I want chocolate!”

“What do we say when we want something?” Wanda asked, putting on her best ‘mom’ voice.

“Pleeeeeese?” The girls chorused, tiny toothy smiles dazzling up at their mommy. The worker chuckled and caught Y/n’s eye so she smiled widely at her too.

“That’s better. And yes, you can get whatever you would like. But you have to ask the nice lady politely.”

Isla being Isla spoke up first, puffing out her chest as she took a deep breath. “Please can I have chocolate please?” She pointed into the cabinet, just in case the server wasn’t sure which one was chocolate.

“Of course you can sweetheart. Is that in a cone or a cup?” Isla looked at her blankly and turned to Wanda, a clear cry for help.

“The smallest cone you do please. And just one scoop.” The girl nodded and began preparing her order. “They don’t need too much sugar.”

Once Isla’s order was complete the server turned to Y/n who was staring intently at all the colourful flavours. “Which one would you like sweetheart?”

“Pink?”

“Strawberry?” Y/n looked up at Wanda, tugging her sleeve for help. The mother shook her head and watched to see which one her daughter pointed too. Granted, Y/n could barely point in the right direction but her intention was enough to go off.

“I think she means the candyfloss. The one with the glitter on it.”

Y/n’s was scooped into a similar cone to Isla and then placed on the stand. Wanda quickly sorted herself and Natasha out; two scoops of honeycomb crunch in a cup for herself, and a double scoop of caramel coffee for Nat. Wanda always teased her wife for crunching on the coffee beans that topped her scoop. Natasha sure was a strange one when it came to her flavour preferences.

Ice creams clutched tightly in hands, Wanda ushered her little ducklings back to the safety of the booth where Natasha was waiting, a large grin plastered onto her face that mirrored that of her ice cream laden babies.

Sweet treats were consumed from the safety of the jungle themed cafe and Isla and Y/n swung their feet happily as they nibbled on their cones. Sticky hands and faces were just inevitable and Wanda was soon ready to attack both with baby wipes the second they were done.

“Did you two see everything you wanted to?” Natasha asked, scrolling through the pictures on Wanda’s phone of Isla at various exhibits.

“I saw lions!” Isla bared her teeth and roared, shaking her head like she’d seen the majestic creature do hours earlier. “And the ‘raffes!”

“Giraffes?”

“Yeah!”

Y/n tugged on Natasha’s sleeve and pointed to part of the mural covering the wall to her right. “They have those here?”

The colourful sea creatures were definitely oversaturated; pink sharks didn’t sit comfortably with Natasha. But she followed Y/n finger to a sparkly blue turtle and smiled, noticing how Isla and Wanda also did the same.

“I saw a sign for an aquarium around the corner,” Wanda said. “There could be turtles in there.”

“We go!”

“Now hold on a minute-“ Wanda started, but telling two sugared-up three years olds on a mission to slow down was a fruitless effort. Natasha grabbed both of their tiny wrists and gently tugged them back to the table, earning little angry glares from both girls.

“What did we say about running off?”

“But-“

“Not buts, Y/n. What did we say?”

“Don’t run off,” they said in unison, the floor now much more interesting than Natasha who wasn’t smiling. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok munchkin, just wait 2 minutes and we’ll be ready.”

Wanda and Natasha packed up quickly and headed towards the aquarium side of the zoo, eyes glued to the two little girls in front of them whose hands were tightly clasped together. They may have their favourite parent and stay glued to their side, but Y/n and Isla’s bond truly was unbreakable. Starkly different, yet inseparable.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #fanfic #double the trouble au

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lichenes · 29 days

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I loved it! (I’m the same one who asked for the slow mornings) I swear I need more of your writings, they make something to me,,, I can’t explain it, but please keep doing your magic 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Awwhh thank you anon<33 (feel free to dm me btw... I'd love to talk to youuu) This is my attempt at portraying touchy Vincent cuz of the "shh baby... they're coming back" snippet that's been circling the internet because- lord have mercy. CW: slight mischaracterisation (sorry!!), physical contact, SFW wc: 474

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____

The first time you met, you felt a touch on your shoulder. "Excuse me miss?" You turned to face the silver haired man, struck by how bold he was. You looked at him questioningly. "Would you happen to know where the nearest ATM is?" You thought for a moment, cautious of your surroundings hoping this wasn't a kidnapping attempt.

"Uhm... I'm not sure... oh! I think one is just around the corner?" He thanked you and bid you goodbye. The interaction was so quick you didn't even register it fully, as did he.

The second time you met, he came up to you and gave you a hug. You turned around confused and angered at his forwardness. His features draining of colour when he realised his mistake. "Mon dieu- I- I'm so sorry I thought you were someone else-" He was honestly and truly sorry nevertheless, you giggled at his attempts at an apology.

"I was supposed to meet with a friend here and- and you two look incredibly similar and-" You cut him off before he managed to dig his grave further. "It's fine, don't worry about it." Happens to the best of us, he thought when you parted ways.

You didn't take him for the easily embarrassed type but giving the fact that he left looking like a freshly cut beetroot, you imagined he had something else on his mind, he wasn't telling you. You shook off the thought, assuming that this was just the way he reacted to awkwardness.

This time, he remarked the way your demeanour changed when you turned around and saw that it was him. Maybe... you actually remembered the interaction, maybe next time, he thought, he would actually talk to you. You weren't on his mind particularly often, but he kept telling himself... third time's the charm?

The third time you met, he didn't waste any time. You were just taking a stroll through the park, enjoying the frosty morning when you met him again. "Hey! Sorry!" You turned around, recognising his voice by now. He smiled in your direction, beckoning you to sit by him. "I'm Vincent." You told him your name and the conversation, as if it was the wine out of a barrel, started flowing.

"Oh that's lovely!" He laughed at your joke. He actually found it funny, you thought. He grabbed your hand in the moment and your heart stopped. He was a touchy person, clearly. He looked at your panicked expression and wanted to stammer out an apology, which you quickly refuted. "No, no- I'm- I'm okay with it..." He grinned at that, the red of his cheeks coming from the cold - deepening.

You never thought you could still act like a teen in love but his demeanour was quickly proving to be irresistible. You wondered what would come out of it... _____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿_____ masterlist

#swann arlaud #x reader #anatomy of a fall #vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #writing

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foxhopfics · 7 months

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Shot for shot

Jealous Kaeya Alberich/gn!vision wielder!reader

Rating: T

Requested by: N/a

Word count: 1182

Short fic inspired by @electrosair from their post "Jealous headcanons anemo + cryo ver."

Notes: hi hope u dont mind this!! I got really inspired by the kaeya section and well the writing gods just had to possess me :,) this was supposed to be a drabble but then I blinked and I hit 1k words

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

You and Kaeya were shot for shot so far. Bar hopping in Mond was a treat for you, even if it was a little more regular for your boyfriend. Unfortunately, your daily habits did not lend themselves well to a constant stupor.

But every so often, for a special evening of fun, Kaeya would dress the both of you in your favourite clothes and whizz you out the door for a night on the town.

The Angel's Share was your last stop for the night. You'd already said hi to Diona and many of the other working bartenders at your regular places, and now Charles was setting the two of you up with a special limited time new flavour of dandelion wine.

You watched as he poured the ingredients into two tall glasses, vision swimming as you watched green pearlescent liquid swirl in to mix with the wine. You smile dopily at it, swinging your head loosely around to look at your partner. "Babe look it's like. It's like Venti," you giggle out. "It's green and sparkly."

Kaeya, just as plastered as you, snorts out a laugh into the back of his hand. "I'll say. Contains just the right amount of wine, too."

You turn back to Charles. "Has Venti had one of these yet?"

He tops off your glasses and pushes them towards you, moving on to collect other empty glasses from patrons around the bar adjacent to them. "No," he thinks, "but I'll tell him you recommend it next time he comes in."

You shrug, drunkenly content with that answer. This was only released within the last few days, and it wasn't like the bard was at the Angel's Share every night. Taking the glass, you take a gulp of the drink.

To say it's new is an understatement. You have no idea what kind of things Diluc was experimenting with, but this topped anything he'd ever done. The ice in the bottom kept it chilly as sweet wine, a hint of Mondstat's sweet mint, a little side of lime, and something just distinctly flavoured as green slides down your tongue. It's a refreshing taste after the last bar, which was arguably one of the cheapest ones in town.

A sound makes its way out of your mouth, unsure in it's own sound if it's some kind of moan, warble, or drunken hiccup.

You blink. Wiping your mouth, you can't help but giggle. "Sorry Charles, I'm really drunk and that is going to be a smash hit."

When you look back at your boyfriend, he's staring at you, but not at your face, mouth open in soft wonder, eyes dancing in a glinting light.

"Kaeya? What's wrong?"

"Your vision..." he responds softly. You look over to where it's attached to you. It's glowing a faint light, not quite enough to rival the firelight from the torches, but enough to ad a coloured hue. The other patrons in the bar hush down to look at what's making the light.

After a moment, the wave of drunk from taking another sip passes and the light fades back to nothingness.

You stare at your vision, head swimming with too much inebriation to make any sense of what just happened.

The two of you look at Charles. He glances between the both of you, but shrugs. "We've never had anyone with a vision try it yet."

You scan yourself up and down. "Well..." you meet Kaeya's eyes to reassure him. "I don't feel any different. Not bad, just drunk." You give him a sloppy thumbs up, elbow supported up by the table.

Kaeya shakes his head at you, smiling. You can hear his amusement in his voice, "I'll try that next, but I gotta hit the head before I give it a shot." He runs a hand over your hair that lazily slides down your cheek before he gets up and goes to find the bathroom.

As he does so, a large group of patrons exit the bar for the night, so Charles picks up his empty plate tray and swings his towel over his shoulder. "Holler if you need anything," he says, and you swivel your thumbs up towards him.

He leaves the bar to collect the glasses and trays, and as he does so you turn to ponder your drink.

Your thoughts space out, mingling images of Venti's happy, laughing face and what his thoughts would be on this drink, shifting over to Kaeya, his hands on your face, resting against him at the bar, and—

"Excuse me?" You jolt up, focus broken from the still slowly swirling beverage in front of you.

"Can I help you?" You direct your gaze towards them. It's a man, a young man, with windswept brown hair dressed in the knight's uniform. His cheeks are rosy, but clearly he has more of his wits about him than you.

Not that you couldn't hold your own against him, regardless. But he didn't seem to know that.

He sits down in Kaeya's seat to look at you.

"I saw your vision when it started glowing. That was really cool."

You turn and give him a smile. At least he's friendly. "Thanks! I got it from doing things." You give him your best serious wobbly nod and he chuckles at you.

"Well, anyway, I'm Browen."

"Nice to meet you Browen, I'm [___]".

He smirks at you, taking your answer as an invitation to continue. "I have a vision myself you know."

Your eyebrows raise. "Really?" You glance around his form, but don't spot the framed crystal anywhere.

"Yeah," he says, "I keep it at home because I'm not supposed to wear it around the other knights." He leans close to you, putting his hand up to his mouth like he's sharing a secret. "They get jealous." He winks over at the table where his knight companions are more focused on their own drink and camaraderie than on whatever was happening here.

"I could take you home, show it to you," he prompts, and you feel disappointment rush through you. Of course he's a liar who just wants to get into your pants because you have a vision. You need to tell Jean to whip these men into better shape.

"What would you like to show us, Browen?" A hand claps hard onto the knight's shoulder as a familiarly sultry voice soothes your agitated nerves. The man shoots up straight, expression changing to one like a dog caught stealing.

He stands up, stumbling over himself to get back to his original table. "N-nothing, Captain. Sorry to bother you."

You sigh as he leaves, tension flooding out of you. "That's more like it."

"Come on, love." Kaeya swings his arms around your shoulders and tosses coin on the table for Charles when he returns.

"Where are we going? We're not going to finish?" You glance up at him, your shoulders at his rib level.

The hand around your arm squeezes as he ducks down to whisper in your ear, "oh, I think my home private show is going to remain private."

#i literally see anything w jealous kaeya and my brain goes haywire #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader #x gn!reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin fluff #fun fact the wine diluc made is the only wine that can get venti plastered #shit. id be an alchemist wouldnt i. this is the second original concoction ive made for genshin #FT: long fic

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triple-asstro · 2 years

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hey @jasontoddisbest, i did it. hope you enjoy <3

'Lol ik this isn't supposed to be an insert reader post but IMAGINE rise!donnie's s/o walking up to her all protective of rise!donnie and ALSO simultaneously shutting her. ass. down.'

thanks to @primussavethesemechs for starting the og idea <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today wasn’t really a great day. You were at the bus stop again, the rain completely pouring onto the glass panel above you and onto your hair and clothes, annoyingly waiting for your friend, April. But it wasn’t the April O’Neil that you knew for most of your life that wore burgundy buns and cropped green varsity jacket along with a black choker. It was the other April O’Neil that had shoulder-length ginger hair and blue eyes that though an okay friend, would often get on your nerves with her antics and now, that girl was three hours late to pick you up from school. You would excuse a couple of minutes but three full hours? Now that immediately put you in a sour mood. Before you could get too hung up on it, you felt your phone vibrate as you pulled it out to see who was texting you.

‘♡'Tello♡: Hi dove. I was wondering why you aren’t back from school yet cause you're usually here by now, pestering me about my world-changing inventions.”

You chuckle as you typed back an answer: “yeah, I would if other April actually picked me up.”

"Are you making that up? She isn't even available?"

"nope. i had to do some extra work which only took ten or so minutes and she left to go talk to you, i think."

"well, i was a bit puzzled as to why she arrived without you because- nevermind..."

You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion at the odd statement. Usually, when Donnie starts a sentence, he would either go on a long rant about his inventions or he'd either make a sarcastic quip but never before as he 'never minded' his sentences. At least not with you.

"wait, because what? did something happen don?"

Before you could read his text, a loud ring echoed throughout the parking lot as a bicycle rode up with a familiar rider with burgundy buns and black capri leggings along with a wool sweater the same colour as her leggings and a salmon-coloured tee.

"Apes, how did you know I was here?"

"After I realized you didn't come here with my copy-self, I knew something was up. So, I had to come for my bestie."

"Thanks. I really appreciate this." you said as you climbed onto the back of April's bicycle and drove off before glancing back at the text between you and Donnie.

"well, she seemed to be very distracted when she started to converse with me and acting very courteous towards me in particular. alternate me seemed a bit gloomy at that."

What? Excuse me? You felt absolutely fuming at this revelation as your grip tighten around April's back. You weren't mad at the fact that someone had a crush on your boyfriend, I mean who wouldn't? You were more infuriated by the fact that even though other April clearly had other Donnie completely in love with her, she was flirting with Donnie. The Donnie who was your boyfriend. The whole bicycle ride to the underground lair, you were completely filled with utter rage as you entered the sewers with April. You were absolutely going to have a talk with Other April. A very long talk.

As you both entered the lair, quickly avoiding another argument between Leo and Mikey, you cracked the door to Donnie's lab open and peered into the room. The lab was its usual fluorescent-lighted self, with Donnie's inventions strung across the table and the ginger-haired April staring at them. Taking a deep breath in, you leaned against the door with your arms crossed, preparing for a prolonged confrontation and waiting for what felt like hours, she finally stepped out.

"Hey, O'Neil. How was your day?"

"Oh, hi Y/N it was alright. Donnie started talking about his inventions again and he seemed super into it."

"The Donnie that you personally know who actually fancies you, or the Donnie with the tech-bo since you seem pretty focused on the latter..."

April's face froze and she looked back at you in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you're trying to flirt with my boyfriend."

Suddenly, April's face of shock quickly turned into an expression of insult as her voice started to stutter and scratching the back of her head. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"April, stop repeating yourself. Look, I'm not one for confrontations but please, can you stop flirting with my boyfriend? Please."

"Are you kidding me? I was talking to the other Donnie. I swear you accuse me of the weirdest things..."

You were beyond baffled at this point. Not only was she trying to deny, deny, deny, but she was also trying to twist your words. Ain't that hilarious.

"No, actually, I'm not kidding April. It's actually hilarious to see how oblivious you are."

Your voice grew louder and louder, your anger and resentment consuming everything you said.

"The entire time that you and your friends have been here, we've all seen that gap-tooth Donnie has a thing for you. A very obvious thing for you and you know that I know you know that and yet, you still string him along making him think he has a chance while you flirt with another version of him? How do you think he feels?!"

"How do you think he feels?!?"

Silence suddenly filled the room as April's eyes widen in shock and the buzzing of the lights above was cast upon you both. At this point, the blinding rage boiled down into pure frustration as you heavily sighed and walked over to April, placing your hand firmly on her shoulder.

"I'm only going to say this once so listen up. Stop flirting with my boyfriend and stop playing with that boy's feelings. It's messed up and you know better than that."

April simply stood there before leaving through the back door in a huff as you slumped down leaning against the desk, burying your head into your knees trying to recollect your thoughts and mentally prepare for tomorrow.

"She seems disappointed. Alternate me's gonna thank you."

You darted your head to the front door which had Donnie, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin and sipping some coffee from a worn-out mug. He still had his battle shell on but had his silky-purple hoodie wrapped around his waist.

"Oh god, did you see all of that?"

"No, I didn't see much," Donnie said, before sitting down next to you. "Except when you completely chewed out Other April and yelled at her."

You heavily sighed, trying to possibly push your face further into your hands. "Great. Just great. I know I was being a bit overprotective and it was only because I thought you liked-"

"Wait, you think I liked her?"

"I-maybe, I know it was stupid to think that but, I actually thought that she would take you away and..."

"And? And what?"

"And I would lose you to her and it will be the biggest regret and hurt I've felt in my life. It's just today's been the worst day ever and she even forgot about me which just added more fuel to the fire."

Donnie suddenly chuckled dryly before patting your shoulder. "Oh, sweet, sweet N/N. Never in twenty millennia will I fall for April. Especially that April. You and your oh-so-adorable attitude are all that I have eyes for."

"Alright, smooth 'Tello. I get it. It was very stupid for me to think that, anyway and I'm glad I have you." you smiled, hovering your hand over his shoulder before he nodded and you pulled him into a hug, him feeling the leftover heat from your body after you got completely soaked in the rain and snuggling his head into your neck.

"Plus, it was quite satisfying to see you put her in her place."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! take care and I hope you love this @jasontoddisbest <3)

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #fanfiction #rottmnt donnie x reader #donnie tmnt #donatello #rottmnt headcanons #tmnt 2018 #tmnt #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt april #tmnt2012 april #tmnt 2012 april

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anime-grimmy · 4 months

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Sooo, as has been evident from me rambling so often about it, I’ve been reading a lot of Genshin fics lately (specifically Sumeru centered ones), and it is so funny to see how headcanons and AUs change between the releases of the characters.

Ofc, this sticks out to me especially with Haikaveh cos Kaveh got released so late for showing up so early and ppl ran far with their ideas. One of the biggest theories was (and I think still kinda is) is that Alhaitham is or at least is linked to the Scarlet King bcs his eyes have the same shape as the eye portrayed in the Forbidden Knowledge cutscene.

After the quests came out where you find out about King Deshret’s and the Goddess of Flowers’ relationship, ofc ppl started to push Alhaitham and Kaveh in the respective roles, which, ngl, I totally vibe with. Even more so cos I can only image the Goddess of Flowers with Nilou’s kinda personality (since her outfit is supposed to look like the Goddess) and the thought of her reincarnation still being good hearted beyond believe, yet also a fucking idiot with anger issues is so fucking funny.

However, the theory I personally even more subscribe to, is that both Alhaitham and Kaveh, at least in an design aspect, represent the Scarlet King. I cannot by God find the one vid that talked about it, but they laid out a lot of design specifics that rly did make sense. This ofc, made me think a lot about it too.

Alhaitham could represent King Deshret’s mind and rational side, the part of him that made him a genius and good leader. As much as Alhaitham acts as if he sucks as a leader, which from a personality standpoint might be true, his abilities and critical mind say otherwise. Alhaitham is strategic and very wise for his age, but also curious and ambitious about the knowledge he seeks. He is not without fault either, as, despite him saying he acts only out of self interest, he still does act very arrogantly and above others.

Kaveh on the other hand shows King Deshret’s soul. Clever and curious in his own right, Kaveh seeks out knowledge not only to learn and understand but because his emotions drive him to reach for it. Kaveh has a bleeding heart and follows its voice more often than his mind’s, yet that makes him empathetic to people and care about them, which we know the Scarlet King was known for as well (caring for his people, that is). His emotions and self-sacrificial nature are his crux as well, though, and lead him close to his own downfall time and time again, much as it happened with King Deshret.

Both Alhaitham and Kaveh make up the body. As is evident how haywire the theories went when the Forbidden Knowledge quest came out, Alhaitham’s eyes bear a strong physical resemblance to Deshret’s supposed eyes. Not to mention, we know Deshret is often described as powerful, so I wouldn't be surprised if Alhaitham’s body build is part of that too. For Kaveh, in that one video I mentioned they said that Kaveh’s attire seems to represent some sort of royalty. Also, in a world quest, though I don’t remember which one (i think either aranara or djini) the NPC you travel with says the traveler reminds them of King Deshret, especially the golden hair, which ofc also works for Kaveh.

(Mind you, I havent dived that deeply into Deshret lore and I did zone out during the world quests often, so pls do correct me if I say sth stupid.)

So yeah, the two sides of the same coin. We already know these two have been designed as perfect mirrors to each other, in their ideologies, personalities all the way to their colour schemes, but with regarding the headcanon they’re both aspects of the Scarlet King, it’s also an interesting analogy to think it’s Deshret’s different sides clashing with each other.

Yes, yes they’re basically the Left Brain Right Brain meme for King Deshret.

Also, as I’ve said, I’ve read my fair share of fics with the Scarlet King reincarnation, which is usually Alhaitham. I am honestly too lazy to write a whole ass fic about it, but you can bet your ass my mind has conjured up enough stuff to fill a few pages. To finally get it outta my head tho, I will just ramble here instead.

I personally don’t think that Alhaitham and Kaveh are reincarnations of Deshret, even though it’d make sense why his body and mind would be two separate entities, as he split himself to avoid spreading more Forbidden Knowledge. I see it more as the two being “blessed” with parts of his soul or something.

Ngl, the whole thing came to me during the one World Quest where you clear up the sandstorm above King Deshret’s Mausoleum and you get to this big platform on top. I dunno, it just looked so cool and it made me think of how this could have been a ritual site or something. So, perfect place for some foreign memories to invade your brain, no?

Also, you cannot tell me the Akademiya wasn’t frothing at the mouth when the Mausoleum finally became accessible. I’d assume they’d send research teams up there after the Traveler cleared the place, and it would seem logical for both Alhaitham and Kaveh to be interested in the place, their respective curiosities spurred by the fragment of Deshret inside them.

They and a small group of scholars take it upon themselves to scope the place out, and eventually end up at the top of the pyramid. Kaveh would marvel at such a grand stage so high up in the air, being able to see into the far reaches of the desert. But he also feels trepidation in his soul, though he brushes it off.

Alhaitham and him conduct their respective researches, Alhaitham jutting down any interesting runes and scripts he finds on the podium, while Kaveh sketches the many columns and the scenery behind, his mind running wild trying to understand how such impossible structures hold. But as he stands at the edge, looking out upon the empty desert with its many ruins, a thought pops into his head.

The desert should not be dead like this.

It’s then that Kaveh feels something shift inside him. Sensations rush over him, the sun beating down on him so differently than just moments ago, the air smelling not of sand and dust but of spices and flowers, the stillness of the desert filled with the distant rush of a city well lived in and people calling him yet not shouting his name.

Kaveh stumbles back to the middle of the podium, only for Alhaitham to meet him halfway. They stare at each other with wide eyes, stare at the other but seeing reflections of themselves. Kaveh bores into Alhaitham’s intense gaze, seeing the many questions and the fierce determination to solve each and everyone of them reflect in those piercing pupils of his, and thinks:

Only a gaze as steeled as mine is fit for a king.

Alhaitham roams his eyes over Kaveh, over his golden hair reflecting the sun, making it almost blinding to look at, over proud shoulders, pushed back to straighten his stance, over calloused hands, twitching in the need to create, and thinks:

Only a presence as loud and vibrant as mine can win over my people.

The spell is broken as fast as it had come when one of the scholars of their group asks for their assistance. Kaveh and Alhaitham busy themselves with helping out the rest of the research group for the remainder of the stay to not let those intrusive thoughts resurface and really just hope that it was some weird hallucination caused by the heat or dehydration or something.

Lucky them, it wasn’t.

And really, all this fancy dressing in the form of a story just to come to the one headcanon stuck in my head: If both Alhaitham and Kaveh are the Scarlet King, and they were to inherit his memories, I believe they’d experience them differently.

Alhaitham would have tangible memories, thoughts that’d pop into his head unbridled. He’d see the tension between Desert folk and the people of the forest and think “This is not what we fought for.”. He’d run across Cyno, discuss matters of the Akademiya with him and think “As competent and loyal as ever, just as is to be expected of my General.”. He’d meet with Nahida and think “No matter the shape she takes, her wisdom remains the same.”.

Kaveh on the other hand would experience the memories with sensations. He’d witness a fight between the matra and Emerites and be transported to a battlefield, as countless shouts and clanking metal were heard while the unmistakable taste of blood sat heavy on his tongue. He’d look at scholars disassembling a Primal Construct and his hands would itch for his tools while his heart sped up in excitement, even if Kaveh knew his knowledge of such machines was limited. He’d watch Nilou dance in the Grand Bazar and almost buckle under the mix of elation, yearning and unfathomable grief that overtook him.

(it would also be funny the other way around, as in, experience the memories with the parts “missing” from them. Though Kaveh, being the overthinker he is, would have an easier time cos his head is filled all the time with thoughts anyways. Alhaitham would have a real crisis though lmao)

At the end of the day they’d come home to each other, stand face to face and stare into a mirror of themselves, all the while the edges would start to blur and it’d become increasingly difficult to know where one of them started and the other ended.

I dunno where I’d even go with this story, in all honesty. I personally don’t like the kinda fics where King Deshret actually “awakens” and either takes over or integrates into the person he wakes up as. I think I’d push a story like this more into the territory of this experience making the two learn more about themselves and each other. As in, since they both “derive from” the same person, even if they’re steadfast in their own beliefs, they’re kinda forced to actually see from the other perspective as well. While this would probably lead to even more arguments, I believe it’d also manage to blunt their edges and while they still can’t agree with each other, they understand and therefore don’t always go on the defensive with counter points at the ready.

Tho, if both are considered King Deshret, would that count as self-cest.

#genshin impact #alhaitham #kaveh #king deshret #headcanon #does this count as an au?#bascially just going wild with the idea of both alhaitham and kaveh being deshret #or parts of him #and i might have written down a prompt for a fic #woooops

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saintsenara · 6 months

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this piece was written for the second @ladiesofhpfest monthly minis, this time focusing on lily evans. you can read the first piece i did for this challenge - on andromeda tonks - here, and find the masterlist of all the pieces written for andromeda here.

today, even though we're looking at lily, the perspective is someone else's: her much maligned and often overlooked sister, petunia.

petunia's letter to dumbledore, written just before her sister starts at hogwarts, is one of those incidental details which are dropped into canon and then never addressed again and which now live rent-free in my mind. i've always wondered what she said. i've always wondered why she wanted to follow her sister - with whom, from what we see of snape's memories, she doesn't seem to be particularly closely aligned in terms of personality, sense of daring etc. - to a castle in the middle of nowhere. i've always wondered why she wanted to be magic.

this is what i think she said.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

My name is Petunia Evans.

I am thirteen years old and I live in Cokeworth with my parents and my sister, Lily. We are ordinary people - Muggles, your deputy headmistress called us - with a normal house and normal clothes. My father has a normal job, my mother keeps a normal home, my sister and I squabble like normal girls.

I am writing because, in ten days time, you will be taking my sister away from me.

We were supposed to go to school together - to St Andrew’s High School, where everyone we know goes - which is the normal thing to happen. But now Lily is going to your school, and I won’t be there to show her what you do at lunchtime or how to take books out of the library or to tell her which teachers are creepy and which ones are nice. I did that when she started in the infants and it's something I should be doing again. It's my job as her big sister, and I believe in doing things properly.

But instead people like you are taking Lily somewhere where everyone says I can’t follow. And nobody’s explained to me what I should say when people at school ask me why my little sister isn’t in the first form this September. Because if I just say that she’s gone to a boarding school, then people will ask why I’m not there too. Things might be different in your world, but in ours sisters go to the same school, and it's not right if they don't.

Lily rolls her eyes when I say this. Since she found out that she was a witch, she has taken to pretending that we were never the best of friends. Having been best friends with your sister isn't special enough, I suppose.

But we were. Totally inseparable, mummy called us. Never saw one without the other.

So I know that, when she gets to your school, Lily will probably pretend that she’s not related to someone like me. How could she be? After all, people have always stopped mummy to say that she’s pretty and sweet, with her red hair and her big eyes. They never stop her to talk about me. I’m just plain old Petunia, with yellow hair. Lily thinks I cry all the time and when we’re fighting she says that I look like a horse.

And now you’ve made that even worse. Because she thinks how can I be related to someone like Petunia? After all, Lily’s a witch, Lily’s magical, Lily will want to stick with her own sort, to have magical friends.

And I’m just a Muggle.

But - the thing is - I showed her magic first. Maybe it’s not as impressive as the sort of magic your lot can do - I can’t fly or make flowers bloom - but I was the first person who showed her that things are not what they seem, that everything can be transformed if you just know how. I was the first person who showed her how you can change boring things into fun ones by making them a game. I showed her how you can change flour and eggs and butter and sugar into a cake. I showed her how you can turn the black-and-white lines of a colouring book into a real picture. I taught her that snow melts and the garden comes alive again. I taught her that grazed knees scab and then the scab falls off and they’re healed.

I was going to show her all the magic which grown ups get to have. We were going to move to London - or Manchester, or Liverpool, or Birmingham, anywhere, really - and go to restaurants and the cinema every night. We were going to get good jobs and trade silly stories about our bosses. We were going to get married, and be each other’s maid-of-honour, and have children, and be the favourite aunt. We were going to live next door to each other and gossip over the garden wall, and our children were going to grow up and be the very best of friends.

Aren’t those things magic too?

I think so. But Lily has already stopped thinking of them that way. She already looks down at the magic we used to have, and I want to stop that and let everything be as it should be. With me as the big sister.

I know that I could learn magic too, because I’ve already done so much of it. Please offer me a place at your school. I enclose my latest reports, so you can see that I’m clever and well-behaved. I look forward to your letter.

Yours sincerely,

Petunia Evans

#asenora fics #petunia dursley #red and gold #ladies of hp fest #monthly minis

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a-crumb-of-whump · 6 months

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ANB Drabble: Lists Of Praise

A New Beginning Masterlist | Comfortember 2023 Masterlist | @comfortember

~ Comfortember | Day 6: Notes ~

Content: Vampire whumpee, human caretaker, recovery.

“Can I ask you something?”

Despite knowing he was in the room, Carlos jumped at the sound of Ryker’s voice. He peered up from the opposite side of the coffee table and subtly shifted to cover the page of his colouring book with his arms, head slightly tilted.

“Yes, sir?”

Ryker tilted his head back with a gentle smile. “I’ve noticed you sometimes taking notes in the back of your books, like you’re doing right now. What are they?” he asked curiously.

For a moment, Carlos considered trying to come up with a half-baked lie as he glanced down at the dozens of quotes written in smudged pen. He didn’t know why the urge was there. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide. He supposed part of it was the fear of having it used against him if anyone else knew how important his “notes” were to him.

Though, he knew realistically that Ryker would never do that. Ryker was kind and supportive, often encouraging the things that brought him any sense of joy or entertainment. He’d never confiscated anything from him. Never even threatened to.

The vampire nervously tapped his pen against the wood on the table a few times before tentatively uncovering his book again. “You can read it if you like,” he whispered as he rotated it until the words were the right way up for Ryker. “I like to write down all the kind things you and Adam say to me so I can look through them on bad days. The books fill up kinda quickly, but I’ll just move on to the new sketchbook that Charlie got me when I’ve got nothing else.”

Carlos had never really considered the possibility of his little habit making a difference to anyone else, but Ryker looked overjoyed as he read through each and every line. The writing itself was rather small and hard to read, but that didn’t seem to make a difference to the human.

“You did a wonderful job with breakfast.”

“You are so fucking smart. How didn’t I think of that?”

“You’re getting better and better at this game!”

“That sketch is beautiful.”

The back page was almost full already after several days of logging any and all praise in it. He had two more colouring books left before he’d move on to his big one, where he’d already started practicing proper sketches.

Ryker was all smiles when he finally pushed the book back towards him. “How long have you been doing that for?”

“I started a few days after you brought me home,” Carlos whispered. He could practically feel his face flushing bright red. It felt like someone had seen directly into his soul. “I was so scared that you were going to start hurting me, ‘n’ I wanted to remember all the positive things you had to say about me along with the bad stuff as well. That never happened, obviously, but… now I have no desire to give up the habit.”

He shut his eyes when Ryker reached out to ruffle his hair. “Well, thank you for showing me. I’m glad you were able to find a constructive way to cope with your anxiety.”

Carlos smiled, a fang poking out. “Me too.”

Comfortember 2023 Taglist: @topsheepstudent

ANB Taglist: @choppedflowermuffinchild @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @lumariane @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped @paniatheweirdone @whumpycries @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @whumpdreamz

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump thoughts #whump tropes #whumpee #vampire whumpee #recovery whump

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historia-vitae-magistras · 5 months

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"Petty" for the wip game

This fic is actually complete. Short but thorough. I have a friend who really liked his Maria with my Matt, and this was his Christmas present one year, so it's old and kinda cringeworthy and kind of smutty, and I don't really stand by it anymore, but it's kind of nice, I think.

Vancouver, 1995

“I never noticed you don't own a rosary,” Maria asked him one morning. She lay in a beam of buttery yellow sunlight, and he thought of technicolour marigold altars. A riot of colours he wanted to paint her body in, maybe outlined in a bright, crystalline, sugar-skull white of the sheets. She is gold, in her real sunshine. “Or even keep one on the wall.”

“I'm not that Catholic.” He shrugged.

“Sure you are, tabernako,” The pads of her fingers rested on his thigh for a long moment. He thought she might want to go again, that the seven orgasms weren't enough, but she tapped him thoughtfully instead. His profanity was Catholic, sure. But he didn't know how to say that. It didn't mean he believed in much.

“I think the first thing I can remember my father giving me is a rosary,” She said. “White ivory and gold. It's in a museum now, in the capital.”

“It sounds beautiful.” He replied lightly.

“Antonio's a piece of shit, but he has good taste,” Mari stretched, her entire body arching in a way that made him itch to paint. “At least the Catholics have an aesthetic.”

“I think I've got a higher rate of protestants than you, though.” Matthew pointed out. “I'm not so Catholic anymore.”

Mari laughed like the porcelain bells that he often saw on the porches of her neighbours. “You apologized when I only came six times. If that's not Catholic guilt I don't know what is.”

He snorted and shrugged again. “Just making up for what you spend on dairy when I come over.”

“You do consume more crema than anyone I've ever met. Even for a white boy.” She pondered this a moment. “Mostly white boy. Whatever. So you don't have them? Or you've never had them. The worry beads, I mean.”

“I have one.” He said, standing and opening the old trunk at the end of the bed to take it out from where it still lay. Father had never approved of it. Black and wooden and plain, he'd carved it from Scottish oak scraps while stuck in bed after the handover.

“It's pretty.” She said. It wasn't, and they both knew it, but he thanked her anyway.

“Monsieur Bonnefoy gave me one when I was born.” He said. “Black stone beads. It had his bulla in the center. Rome gave it to him, I guess. It was set under a plate with the virgin stamped in iron to attach it. To keep me safe.”

“Thoughtful of him.” She said dryly. "Strange how they're always squabbling over the sons of Rome."

He flushed, thinking of France's invasion in the 1860s. “Sorry.”

“What happened to it?” She said, batting his apology away with a wave of her hand. She rolled onto her back, her hair a cloud of wildfire smoke around her golden face, and he pillowed her head in his thigh and leaned against the headboard, playing with her hair. She liked that, she'd said once because he didn't mess with the pattern of her curls. “In a museum in Ottawa?”

“No,” Matt said. “He took it back. It was in their agreement, his and Father's. Monsieur Bonnefoy took his name and his protection back. Property too, but his politicians had already taken that back when they fled anyway. So my rosary and a few little odds and ends went back in a box. I had a set of apostles spoons from Uncle Alasdair he took back too, even though my uncle was my godfather.”

“That's petty.”

“That's Monsieur Bonnefoy for you.” Matt shrugged.

“I suppose at least you're not still paying him for the privilege of being colonized.” She said.

“Did your father take anything back?”

“You mean besides the pile of silver he dug out of me?” She raised a brow.

“Ah,” Matt said, feeling guilty all of a sudden. Maybe he was Catholic. “I just kept Elizabeth on the money and Dad's content.”

“Aren't you a lucky one,” She teased. “Now, why don't you get back down there and make your brother jealous all the way from Japan.”

“Well,” Matthew grinned, his angsty bullshit mood gone in a moment. Her thigh was warm when he kissed it. “He did say we had to get to know each other.”

“I'd—” She gasped. “I'd say we're getting…” The little intake of breath she made was better than praise. “To know each other.”

Send me a word, if it’s in one of my wip documents I’ll answer your ask with the sentence that it appears in

#the ask box || probis pateo #Maria and Matt || Al mal tiempo buena cara #my writing || cacoethes scribendi

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more-cardigan-than-woman · 1 year

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Lonely Hearts

Summary: Jason meets someone unexpected while trying to avoid all the hearts and flowers.

Pair: Aussie!Witch Reader x Jason Todd

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Alcohol, swearing, everyone gets to be a Bi switch, bondage, one night stands, magic, choking, clothes ripping, self indulgent AF, praise kink.

AN: Happy Valentines day. I hate Valentines day, but Jason deserves a nice little treat.

The music coming from inside the club is so loud Jason can see the glass from the door shaking as he approaches. Today is supposed to be a day of love and romance, but all it brought for Jason was memories of mistakes and regrets. He was excited when he heard Amity were playing, it was the perfect thing to distract him from his woes. He's been waiting his whole life for this concert. It's not often that Australian bands even come out to the states, let alone try their luck in Gotham.

“Fuck, I’m late,” he mutters, hearing the vocals of his favourite singer as he steps into the club and sees the crowd in front of the stage. The large sign "The Amity Affliction- One Night Only." hanging above the stage in a dark neon glow.

He steps up to the back of the crowd. The swarm of sweaty bodies writhing so close together that he can’t seem to find a way in. A man in a ripped denim vest, his lean biceps covered in swirling ink almost as tempting as his soft jawline and silky red hair. Jason tries to get his attention but the man disappears into the crowd. Jason takes the opening, slipping his way into the mass of people. He pushes past a small group before the crowd seems to part and a flash of colour in this sea of black catches his eye. A woman, her hair split dyed red and black, her arms covered in fishnets and leather. There seems to be two or three of them, all huddled together at the front of the stage.

"Hey sorry man," someone says, knocking Jason in the shoulder as they make their way past him and towards the front. He lost sight of her in those few seconds, but as he turns back he sees her waving, at him? He turns around, checking she isn't waving at someone behind him. Jason doesn't see anyone, so he waves back at the woman who looks like she’s making a beeline for him.

The crowd seems to funnel her toward him, like a wave rushing to the shore. She makes an abrupt stop, the crowd behind her slamming her into his chest, his hands instinctively clutch her shoulders to keep her from toppling over. It’s then he notices the intricate ink hidden under her fishnet top, snaking their way up her neck and down her fingers.

"Shit, sorry mate." The woman says, her eyes giving him a once over, pausing slightly when she see's his tuft of white hair. Jason tries to recall where he has heard the strange accent before, feeling like it's right on the tip of his brain, "didn't mean ta get me legs all twisted. Ya right?" she smiles in a way that makes Jason shiver, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes him think she's seen him before.

'Right what?" He asks, unsure what exactly she's talking about.

She gives him a confused look before uttering something about Americans under her breath, "See ya later," she shouts, snaking around him and grabbing hold of a smaller woman he hadn't seen. The two women turn, already making their way from him.

"Wait, can I get your name?" He calls out to her as she walks with her friend back into the crowd.

"Ya got buckleys of that mate!" She shouts back, it surprises him that he can even hear her over the roar of the music and the crowd. He sees the woman beside her shoulders start to shake, her head thrown back as if some kind of joke has been told.

Completely baffed by what the fuck just happened, Jason moves into the crowd. Intent on just enjoying the band he's waited so long to see. They're good. Better than good. Better than he could've ever imagined. But his eyes keep wandering, searching for her. He occasionally catches glimpses, flashes of red in the dark crowd. But never more than that.

The night and the party keeps going and going around him. Fuck, he feels like he's just ran all the way to Central city. His legs are aching, he's sweaty and his mouth is so dry. He squishes and squashes his way to the bar. The line is much smaller than he thought and he can hear some kind of commotion. The closer he gets the more clearly he can hear your tone and that harsh accent he had heard from your soft looking lips.

“What's the problem?” He asks, sliding up next to you at the bar.

“Can’t understand her,” the bartender looks with impatience at Jason.

“I got it." You say turning to Jason and he sees an annoyance on your face, “look dude. It's a VCR. It's common, right?”

“A what?” Jason asks, “like cranberry?”

“No.” she shouts somehow offended, “Fuck. Do you have any grenadine?”

“Yes?” The bartender replies.

“Vodka? And coke?”

“Coke?” Jason asks, “are you insane? You can't ask for that at a bar.”

“Ahhh..” you clench your teeth, rolling your eyes, knowing that you should've just bought a flask from your van. “Fine. Just give me a jager bomb. You want one?” You turn to Jason, “come on don't make a girl get maggot on her own.”

“How could I say no?” He smiles, ordering the same and leaning his elbow onto the bar.

“You couldn't,” you reply, clinking your shot glass with his before dropping it into the cup.

“So what's a girl like you doing in a dump like this?” He asks, taking in your wholly black outfit, the artwork he can now see through the holes in your torn stockings running down your legs and your soft lips painted with a dark green lipstick.

“With the band. Who can say no to a free holiday?”

“Are you- like a-”

“A groupie?” You laugh, tapping him lightly on the shoulder, “yeah, nah not a groupie.”

“I didn't mean to imply-”

“Deadset, unless you have a problem with groupies.” you tease, your eyes shining with mischief, “you're cute when ya flustered.”

“Cute? Not handsome? Imposing? Sexy?”

“Very cute,” you reach out, touching his arm again, “hold on one tick.” You pulls out your phone typing a quick text to your mates before looking back up at him. “What's ya plans for the rest of the night?”

“After this? Nothing.”

“What about right now?”

“Plan was to get your name at least.”

“Cheering, we're bout to do the harry.” You takes his hand, pulling him from the crowd and towards the stage entrance.

“Where are we going?” He says, taking longer strides to keep up with you, “I don't wanna miss my favourite song.”

“They haven't played it yet?” You ask, turning to look over your shoulder as you open the door and flashes your badge at the security guard, “they usually play Show me your God and Drag the Lake as an encore.”

“How did you-?”

“They're popular, I reckon we've got maybe 2 more songs,” you say, pulling him into the curtain bay and pressing him into the wall. “You can watch from here if you want, but first-” you catch his jaw pulling his lips down to yours, your arms on his waist as you press yourself into him.

“Hmm.. Don’t even know your name,” Jason mumbles into your mouth, fuck you taste like cigarettes and marker pens. How is that so fucking hot? He circles his arms down your ass, your fishnets feeling like sin on his fingertips as he lifts you, spinning you around until he’s pressing you into the wall. “Where’d you come from?”

“Hell,” you smirk into his mouth, “you been?”

“Yeah, didn’t agree with me.”

“Me neither.” Your long pointed nails scrape through Jason's hair, tugging his face back, “got you all messy, mate.”

“That dark lipstick all over me?”

“Yeah, not sorry 'bout it,” you pull him back in for another kiss, while he presses you harder into the wall, his cock is so fucking hard. God, how's he going to explain this when he has to leave?

“Can we really do this right here?”

“Not really. But I thought you'd like the view.” Your head tilts to the side, “they're about to play ya song,” you swats at his hands, “don't you wanna see it?”

“I’m pretty happy with this view,” he kisses into your neck as he sets your feet back on the ground. When you go to walk away he pulls you back, “Hey mystery girl,” he tugs you in front of him, “I ah-”

You look down noticing the huge ass fucking tent in his pants and the pouting of his lower lip, “You need some help there?”

“Yes,” he mutters under his breath, “This is your fault.”

“My fault-” you hold a hand to your chest, “Nah, yeah, I guess ya right. Ok. Come on,” you take his hands wrapping them around you as you walk forward. Your body hiding what's poking you in the ass. The hardness sending a tingle through you with every step you take.

“That's making it worse.”

“Shh, they're about to start.”

The band starts playing and Jason shouts in your ear, “This ones my favourite.”

“Sames. Sorry we can’t mosh here,”

“This is a great view.” he smiles, leaning his chin onto your head, his hands clinging together around you as you sway together, watching from the curtains as the band rocks out.

You both watch the band and the crowd, the whole place seems to shake with the bass and the beat of the pulsing crowd. The band says goodnight, before heading into the crowd to meet the fans, “Saw the thing now, Happy? Wanna see something else cool?” you ask, peering up and over your shoulder at Jason. Your eyes going wide with how joyful he looks.

“Is it going to kill me?” Jason replies, looking down at you with curiosity.

“If you want, but mostly no.” you turn, taking two steps and grabbing a stray hoodie from one of the hangers and handing it to him, “This should help you with your ah-” your eyes dart down 'problem.'

“Thanks,” Jason says, tying it around his waist. “So mystery girl, where we going?” he asks as you lead him down a corridor and out the back of the club, “Killing me in an alley isn’t very original.”

“Mate, original is the last bloody thing I am,” you smirk, dragging him down past the street lights, into the darkness and towards your van.

“Wow, Mystery Machine, eat your heart out,” Jason jokes, leaning on the van.

“Told ya, you think I'm a fibber?” you quirk your brows.

“You live here?” He asks as you slide the door open and he takes in the dark fabrics hung from the roof over the windows, the shelves of books and the tiny bed hidden in the back. “It's nice.”

“It's a shitheap, but Bertha's my shitheap, goes everywhere with me.” You climb inside, ducking your head and pulling your powder drawer open, “maybe watch your head and give me like one-” you bite down on your lip to help you concentrate until you find the vial you need and pour some of it into your palm, ”Last chance to bolt,” you peer up at him lowering your lips to your hand.

“And miss all the excitement?”

“Get in then,” you direct him, giving him a quick smile as he steps inside, “Shut the door behind ya,” you flick your chin towards it and as he slides it shut you begin to whisper into the powder. With the words said, you release the powder, blowing it out and around you.

“The fuck is this?” Jason asks when the purple powder drifts from your palm and into the air. The mist swirls and swirls around you.

When the mist clears he’s in a giant canvas tent, the large room centred by a huge bed. The four poster covered in lace and vines, torches dimly light the room, flickering over your pretty face, “That was fucking cool, how'd you did that?” he calls, noticing the distance between you.

“Boss taught me,” you shrug, twirling your arm around the bed post, your finger pointing out and beckoning him towards you, “feel better now you've got the head room?”

“Definitely,” he growls, stalking towards you faster than he thinks. Picking you up and slamming you both into the bed. He rips and tears at the fishnets covering your body, his nimble fingers quickly finding the clasp on your skirt. “Shit you're pretty,” he smiles down at you as his hands glide inside your thighs.

“You're taking too long,” you mutter, pulling out some red dust whispering something in maybe Latin he thinks before the mist is swirling around you and you're both naked.

“Where-? I need my clothes to get home.”

“On the hanger,” you point behind him to all his clothes neatly hung on your dresser, “‘sides, who says you're going home? Maybe I'll keep ya.”

“You can keep me right here,” he says as he presses his fingers into the dripping mess of your pussy. “Soaking,” he growls tilting over you so he can catch your lips in his. His hard cock is so swollen that it looks like it's been throbbing for hours. Well, at least 30 minutes by your count. He presses it down into your stomach, his fingers patting you from the inside and flattening his palm, giving you something to grind on while he assaults your lips. “Tell me how you like it,” he moans into your mouth.

“Messy, rough, quick, no strings.”

“Got any magic powder to help?”

“No, but-” you turn to the left, mumbling a familiar phrase into the pillow while your fingers reach up and press into the headboard, “how do you feel about restraints?”

“Can be fun,”

“Good.” you press the last piece of the puzzle and watch as the vines start to twirl from the canopy. “Kay, mate. On your back.” you push at his chest, rolling over, “I like to be on top.”

“Alright, mystery girl, don’t know how I’m going to tie you up while you're there.”

“Who said I was being tied up?” you tease him, holding onto his wrists and pushing them up to the edge of the bed.

“You can’t really think you’re stronger than me?”

“I don’t. But I know you’re not putting up a fight,” you smile as the vines tangle around his wrists, “Now be a good boy and sit still,” you perch on his thighs, your hands skating up the scars covering him, “Hmm, so the stories are true,” you whisper, your lips, tongue and teeth skating up the soft flesh of his stomach.

"What?" He asks breathlessly, his wrists tugging on the vines, while his body pushes up into your mouth. "Ah, fuck," he moans as your lips grow closer and closer to his throbbing cock. Your hands skating down his thighs, nails digging in gently to his flesh.

"Look at me, pretty boy," you say in a low voice, stating up at him from between his legs, "good." Your fingers start to travel the muscle lines of his thighs, "if you want me to stop, just say the word and it stops."

"Okay," he pants, his hips trying to thrust up towards your mouth.

"If it gets to much or wrists start to hurt you tell me to stop. Be a good boy and Repeat that back to me so I know your listening." His cock bounces at that and you feel like you've won the lottery.

"Stop means stop."

"Good job," you smile devilishly at him, your mouth ghosting over his cock as your tongue darts out to lick at him, "going to paint you so pretty with my lipstick, pretty boy." His cock throbs, a sneaky drop of pre leaking out.

He squeals so cute as you take him in your mouth, the salty tang of his pre cum salivating your mouth, his hips already moving to meet your every bob. "Pretty boys got such a tasty cock." You moan as you come up for breath and plant your hand at his base. Sliding your spit down the shaft, "what a good boy, can you thrust up into my mouth harder for me?"

"Ye-." He nods, the world barely audible as his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. "What are you- don't stop," he begs as you pause leaning up to pull his lip from his teeth.

"So soft, don't do that, I want to hear you," you pump down on his cock with your fist, making him moan into your mouth, "how else will I know I'm doing a good job?"

"Fuck, sorry. I- that's so good," he moans thrusting up into your hand.

"Good boy," you slink back down taking him once again in your mouth, your tongue dancing along his long shaft, your spit spilling down while he fucks up into your mouth. Jason's moans fill your ears, his breathing getting heavy and his thrusting growing faster, But it's those short little pleas for more that tell you all you need to know.

He groans when you pull off his cock, crawling your way up his body "you did so well," you coo, cupping his face and bringing his lips to yours, "do you know how good you taste?" You ask him as you stick your tongue down his throat.

"Taste better on you,"

"Tell me what you want, pretty boy."

"You."

"How do you want me?"

"I want to be inside you."

"You just were."

"Your pussy, I want to fuck you."

"Ask nicely."

"Please, mystery girl. Please fuck me."

"How can I say no when you pout so pretty." You scoot down, your pussy hovering over his cock before sinking down. Your brain buzzing as his huge dick stretches you out, your pussy pulsing around him. "Fuck, ya filling me so good." You moan as he bottoms out, your hips already starting to mindlessly grind into him. Your nails digging into his chest for stability as you bounce on him.

"Hands are..fuck." He groans, tugging on the vines.

"They sore sweetheart?"

"So sore," he lies, he needs to het his hands on you, fuck he wants to touch you so badly.

"2 seconds," you mumble, leaning up over his head, the tip of his cock just barely inside you, your tits right in his face. He takes the opportunity to suck and bite at them, "I need to concentrate," you moan as his teeth bite into your nipple, trying to think of the words to dispel the vines as your thoughts start to swell. "Fuck it." You hit the dagger sigil on the headboard. It appears in seconds in your hand and you slice away the vines.

The vines go loose and Jason takes his opportunity to flip you. His cock thrusting up into you as he pins you beneath him. His hands move quick to pin yours to your side while his mouth moves to yours, "what's wrong mystery girl? Did I ruin your plan?"

"No, not at all." You moan as you wrap your legs around his thighs and tilt your hips up, fucking back into him, "God that feels fucking good."

"Fuck, keep telling me-" he moans releasing your hands. He takes one thigh in his hand and presses it up into your chest.

"That you're pretty? Sweetheart, you're fuckin stunning," you hold onto his face making him look you in the eye when he tries to turn away, "fuckin me so good," you moan, "yeah- grind, fuck, like that, pretty boy."

"Holding me so tight,"

"I'm getting close," you moan, arching your back up, "choke me, put those strong hands on me."

"So fucking happy you asked," his hand clasps around your neck, gently pressing in at the sides where, "that's a good look on you."

"I look good on you."

"Yes,"

"You going to-"

"Yes, you?"

"Together?"

"Please, please, plea-"

"Such a good pretty boy, begging for my cum without even asking," "Fuc- I'm nearly, Jason, fuck, cum. Cum" your pussy pulses, squeezing down on his cock, "cum with me. Do it. Now."

"Yes, yes. Yes. So ahhh-" he screams, as his cum pulses, more then he's ever felt before floods your guts.

"Keep going, just-" his pace starts to slow, "yeah. Like that. Good boy," your push his sweaty curls from his hair.

"From hell you said?" He jokes, pressing his forehead into yours, "I believe it now."

"Something like that," you say, "you want some water?"

"Please," he says, finally stopping and rolling down into your soft pillows. His hand wiping the sweat from his brow. His eyes locked on the intricate tattoo, which seems to be swarm of ravens that fly down your legs as you stand. You lean over a bench grabbing two bottles of water. As you turn back his eyes trace over the intricate pattern of the night sky on your right arm, stars and moons aplenty. He wishes he had time to explore them more, to ask about the black cat that rests in your shoulder dip.

"They're a bit wet," you say, pulling his attention back to you. Wrapping a tea towel the water, before grabbing another to clean yourself up before climbing back into bed. "You alright? How are your wrists?" You ask taking them in your hands and turning them over, "Sorry they're so red."

"It's fine." He tries to pull away, but your soft finger tips, covered in tiny letters he doesn't recognise graze over the marks, a tiny white glow pulsing from them that he nearly doesn't see.

"That better?"

"Much actually, what was that?"

"Just a little something I learnt from a mate."

"Oh," he sighs contently, definitely not jealous as his brain quiets down as you bring his head to your chest, "you're going to be gone when I wake up aren't you." He realises as you gently toy with his hair.

"Yes, Jason. I am."

"Can I call you?"

"No," you start and he lets out a petulant whimper, making you roll your eyes, "but you can have this," you pull a card from the air, "just light it up and I'll find you as quick as I can." He reaches for it, but with a swish of your hands it's gone.

"Where-"

"It's in your coat, you don't need it right now. I'm right here with you. Just get some rest, you earned it." You kiss into his forehead, watching as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep. Noone dreams in this dimension, it's the reason you chose it.

Waking with a start, Jason pats the bed around for you. Only to find his pillows and the gun safely tucked underneath. Shit. He didn't even get to say goodbye. He bolts up, noticing how rested and relaxed he feels even if he had passed out in his jeans. Fuck, did he dream it. Dream about you? The tattooed, sexy witch who'd made his dreams come good for once.

Patting himself down, he tries to find evidence. The card, he thinks you put it in his coat and sure enough, tucked inside his inside pocket is a small card with a note wrapped around it. He almost tears his jacket to get it out. The note reads "Thanks for a good time, Zombie Boy. It was good to finally meet you." How did you?- But as Jason stares down at the card, he realises that he didn't tell you his name. He's pacing his room going over every detail, the card hanging loosely in hand when he figures out where's he's heard your voice before. His eyes dart to the gold lettering shimmering in the morning sunlight Costantine & Co Aust. Dept. Light for help.

Taglist: look i know you guys know im shit at tagging. all i can do is apologise.

@megumisbabymomma @nutmeg030

#reader x jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #reader x red hood #red hood #x reader #Witch!Reader

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sumire-bride · 1 year

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DIABOLIK LOVERS 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY BOOK- Sumire Kanashi- [SUMIRE CHARACTER INTERVIEW]

𖧷ɤ———ɤ𖧷

QUESTION 01. What is your favorite thing right now?

A. Theres this new book I’ve discovered… Reiji-sama let me look through his book collection and I just so happened to find a book about.. Bee’s… Fufu..~ My new founded discovery has lead me to try and find bee’s around outside.. But it is always night when I am up so I can not find any…”

QUESTION 02. What are your recent preferences in regards to fashion?

A. “Ah.. My fashion preferences have stayed the same… Personally anything silk or smooth is my preferred preference… If there’s anything else I had to name.. Dresses, you would not catch me in any form of pants…”

QUESTION 03. Do you have any subconscious quirks?

A. “I fiddle around with anything in a possession I suppose.. Especially the edges of my hair… It just helps my concentrate better if can play with something in my hands..”

QUESTION 04. How do you spend your off days?

A. “Days off..? I don’t get those quite often.. Even when I am away from school I have quite the activities to attend to… But when I am alone I enjoy walking.. I get told that’s not really spending a day off.. But it is in opinion incredibly relaxing…”

QUESTION 05. What does your sleepwear look like?

A. “I don’t sleep very often… But when I do I sleep in lingerie… or a négligée… I really dislike pants…

QUESTION 06. What’s one thing you always do before going to bed?

A. “I like to drink tea and finish a chapter of a book while on my balcony… Though I can never finish my tea or chapter sometimes.. The brothers tend to interrupt the process…

QUESTION 07. Which part of your own body do you like best?

A. “That is.. Quite a difficult question… I am not very fond of my body… It may be weird to others but, I like my cheeks… Father has put his hands on my cheeks a lot when I was with him… I guess.. I also like that they’re so soft.. It’s comforting in a way..”

QUESTION 08. What do you like best about your own room?

A. “I love the colours… Blue is such a calming tone whenever I am in there I tend to relax…”

QUESTION 09. Tell us your most vivid memory with your the brothers!

A. “There’s so many to choose from… Aah, one time they all styled my hair in different ways… Yuma and Ayato fought quite a bit about how theirs was better.. Fufu.. It was very funny… It makes me to never want to cut my hair…”

QUESTION 10. How do you feel about Karlheinz?

A. “I do not know him too well… Besides the fact he is the boys father… As well as the vampire king.. For some reason though, when I think about him I get this strange feeling.. I am not too sure how to describe it but.. It’s like I want to find him or cling onto this man… Hooh.. Even just talking about him is making me a bit woozy.. Ooh..”

QUESTION 11. Where would you go on a date?

A. “A date…? I’m not sure, you see I’ve never really had much experience with these type of things.. I guess if there’s one place I had in mind.. Stargazing would be very much enjoyable… If I am graced with the pleasantness of going on a date, I wish to tell them all about the stars and little facts about them…”

QUESTION 12. Which kind of gestures from a boy make your heart skip a beat?

A. “Aah…! I’m not truly sure.. Oh goodness this is such a personal question… Men are such confusing creatures, but when they stare directly into your eyes.. Eye contact is just so… Oh my I’ve said too much…!”

QUESTION 13. What do you think your blood tastes like?

A. “I’ve never tasted it… I would like to think it would taste like blood, though because I am human it will taste different to me then would to the others..”

QUESTION 14. Which body part do you like getting sucked from?

A. “Either way, it is painful no matter the body part… My neck, I’ve grown incredibly numb there that it doesn’t hurt as much as the other parts of my body, because the others have bitten me so much there… But if they need to.. I will gladly let them bite me just about anywhere…”

QUESTION 15. What do the boys mean to you?

A. “It is no question that I am simply food playing as a human to them.. I am aware of my meaning… Let’s keep this between me and you please.. I view them as the ones who give a purpose… They give me orders and I do them, they make me feel emotions… Ones that I have not been able to feel.. Wether or not they are good or bad feelings.. They are still pleasant, let’s just say that they do have a lot of meaning to me.. They are like family to me… No doubt about it they would laugh at me if I said this aloud to them.. So this is our little secret yes..?”

𖧷ɤ———ɤ𖧷

#diabolik lovers #diabolik oc #sumire #Sumire Kanashi #sumire-bride #SUMIRES 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL

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ltwilliammowett · 2 years

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The typical Pirate look

Pirates! We alle have a mental picture of what one did or should lool like once fitted out with the prerequisite eyepatch, wooden leg, earring, and outlandish clothing. Let's break down the typical pirate and let's find out why they looked the way they did according to the literature and how far it was true.

Earrings, (at this point it should be mentioned that I had already made a post about this) were worn in order to have an insurance for a proper burial in case they did not remain in the sea after their death and were washed ashore. Rings were also used as earplug holders worn by the gun crews to protect themselves from going deaf when firing the guns. Supposedly, I just want to mention it here, but I think this theory is rather unlikely. Through contact with Asia and the culture of acupuncture, pirates are said to have earrings pricked at certain acupuncture points in their ears to reduce hunger and release energy.

Capture of the Pirate, Blackbeard, 1718 depicting the battle between Blackbeard the Pirate and Lieutenant Maynard in Ocracoke Bay, by Jean Leon Gerome Ferris (1863–1930) (x)

Eye patch, it is a bit of a mystery, but it is the explanation that makes the most sense to me. Many used navigational devices that used the sun to determine their position. This could lead to the eye that was seen through slowly going blind and in order to protect it, the eye was changed and the one that was used before was covered to protect it. Of course, an eye patch could also be worn if an eye was lost or injured in battle.

Peg legs and hand hooks, something no one wanted to have, but could happen in a fight. As explained once in a question, these prostheses existed, but the Sailors who received them usually remained ashore because they could no longer serve on a ship and if the post of cook or Sailmaker was occupied, the person concerned had to remain ashore. Managers were more likely to continue with a prosthesis and delegate their tasks.

The parrot on the shoulder, not just a pirate thing. Birds were often on board, because they not only served as entertainment but were also good for earning money by selling the trained animals in the next port.

The clothes - this colourful mixture often came about through scavenging, after all, anything that could be used was taken, even if it was clothing. It didn't matter whether the style matched or not, the aim was not to win a beauty contest but to have something to wear.

Always drinking. Well yes, there was drinking, and maybe sometimes too much on occasions ashore and maybe sometimes on board. But pirates were always on the lookout for booty and for the navies, so they couldn't afford to have drunken men all the time, and so the respective codes often forbade alcohol.

Hygiene - was generally such a thing at sea, because bathing and everyday washing were not always possible. A pirate is supposed to have long hair and often a beard as well, because it is supposed to show a style that is detached from society. Long hair was normal at that time, or rather a wig - if they could afford it. Beards were one thing, but whether pirates really wore a full beard or not, is impossible to say. Probably none or a small one, because such hair was a breeding ground for vermin, which nobody wanted.

But where did this image of a pirate come from, as it was often communicated in the various media? On the one hand, this look was considered reprehensible and not socially accepted in a civilised way. The sailors of the Navy were said to have more style and not such a ragged look. The fact that all the aspects listed above fitted a normal sailor was often ignored. Most popular media about pirates were created at a time when there was already a kind of dress code in the Navy. And yet the image of the pirate described in the media has persisted and is seen as the typical look.

#naval history #pirate history #pirate look #17th century -early 18th century #age of sail

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souglias · 2 years

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The Weightless Word That Anchors You To His Side [Sougo] [Kamui]

c/w: blood, injury, violence, tons of swearing, slight spoilers for Mitsuba arc

Cross-posted on ao3

Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOUGO!! This is my offering to you, mister super sadist. Meanwhile, @goldenlaquer HI uh it's me the anon who asked if I could write the Kamui idea. The Kamui fic is my offering to u, thank u for feeding me so much tasty gintama content. I will not shut up about 'Who Runs The World? Sadists' and 'All The World's A Stage'. I hope this is good enough for u (and if it is can we be friends :"> okay but on a serious note, no pressure!!) Lastly, shoutout to @divinavulpes and @pen-observing for listening to me scream about how much I suffered while writing these and helping me for the Kamui fic <3

Thank u for all the likes and reblogs on my first gintama fic <3

[Sougo]

How fleeting anything beautiful is.

The maple leaves that cling onto their branches as winter starts to exhale its frost into the landscape. They all fall onto the ground at the end of autumn, no matter how much they try. When humans step on them, cracks run across their coloured bodies and are long forgotten.

His sister who was at the peak of health, yet it declined abruptly months after he left for Edo. She’s undergone countless treatments and swallowed thousands of pills. But she still left even before she had a single grey streak in her pale brown hair.

Sougo doesn’t see anything as beautiful anymore. A pair of dirt-tinted glasses he wears to view the world. Everything is shit and ugly, especially you. He makes sure he smears more mud on his dirt-tinted glasses when he looks at you.

You're just supposed to be a housekeeper who happened to take up the job opening at the Shinsengumi for the summer holiday. (Matsudaira finally decided someone needed to clean after a whole army of his men, especially with all the tamakin* lurking around.)

It's all good until Sougo bumps into you with a tray of cold soba. The soba spills all over your apron, bits of the soup staining your shirt.

With a deadpan voice, he comments, “You should keep your eyes on the path in front, mx housekeeper. Now you have to pay for another bowl of soba for me.”

You admit you weren’t paying too much attention to your surroundings and only focusing on cleaning. But the monotone of his voice ticks you off.

Pursing your lips, you attempt to be careful not to let anything too sharp out of your mouth. “I’m so sorry, I was just too focused on trying to make this place clean.”

He doesn’t break eye contact with you for a few seconds and you think he’s already going to send in a request to fire you. Instead, he holds out an open palm. You raise an eyebrow at him and it prompts him to brush his thumb against his fingertips as he mouths “money”. Scoffing under your breath, you shove your hand into your pocket and give him whatever change you have. You don’t check if it’s enough and storm off.

(It wasn't.)

Aside from cleaning, you help some of the men tidy their rooms if they request it. Your job scope does not include any of the men’s rooms because Kondo said that the men should all be responsible for their own spaces. But you don’t mind the extra work since you often finish the required tasks early.

It is all good until Sougo asks you to clean his room with a bunch of insults.

“Are you a pushover? You’re not paid to clean my room but you do it when I ask you anyway?”

You narrow your eyes at him before you turn back to wipe the shelf with a cloth. “I’m trying to be generous to a slob who has a dusty space for a room.”

He clenches his jaw because you’re right with all the layers of dust on the sliding doors and shelves.

“Generosity? Don’t kid with me, I know there won’t be any more of such shit as more time passes. You’ll laze around or leave for home early before you’re dismissed eventually.”

How wrong you prove him to be.

You help him to replace the yellowed and slightly tattered paper over his sliding door. You help Hijikata sweep up the ashes lying around in his room. You stash some different flavoured bread in Yamazaki’s cupboard so he doesn’t have to snack on anpan even on his off days. All with their permission, of course.

When they thank you in their ways, you give Sougo a look that says “how’s that, you sadistic bitch?”

Sougo snickers at you when Hijikata passes you a bowl of ramen with a mountain of mayo as thanks, filled with amusement. You force the whole bowl of ramen down your throat because you’re worried the demon vice-chief of the Shinsengumi was going to punish you for rejecting his gift.

He laughs at your face that’s gradually turning green and pokes at your queasy stomach.

(Not long later, you suppose you get the last laugh. You throw up all over him and you smirk at him while you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, albeit weakly.)

As time passes, the amount of tasks for you reduces and you’re finding it hard not to laze around. Whenever you see Sougo within your view, you wipe over the top of an already clean table a second time. The second time, you do it a little more slowly too.

When you lie in their backyard to admire the azure blue sky, Sougo’s voice bounces around the walls of your mind. Lazing around, are you?

It makes you immediately jump up to find something to do. You spit a 'tch' out of your mouth, frustrated at how you're letting a mere captain influence your actions.

Eventually, you find yourself peeking through the windows of their dojo and watching them train. You pick up a branch and try to imitate whatever you see being taught. Engrossed in your new “skill”, you forget to be on the lookout for the super sadist. The one time you forget to check if you’re within his line of sight, Sougo catches you.

“Slacking off, are you? Or are you practising some ‘special’ sword techniques to swat a fly that intrudes into our compound?”

You drop the branch, fumbling for an excuse.

“I’m already done with my work today. Besides, I could use some self-defence skills with a stick.”

He mocks you, “Please, [name]. What kind of world do you think we live in? Look, your footwork is already all wrong. You can’t just stand with your feet shoulder apart, you need to have your dominant foot forward too.”

The two of you have an impromptu session behind the dojo, him correcting your posture first. You can tell midway he decides to go spartan on you because you think he’s already asked you to swing this stupid branch 50 times. After possibly the 100th time, you start swinging the branch at him.

As he dodges your strikes, he comments, “You’re already as good as me when I was 7.”

“Is that a compliment?”

He just scoffs and tells you to think what you like to think. Right after that, he whacks your side with the wooden sword he pulls from his hip and you tumble to the ground.

(He grins as he watches you clutch your side, face contorted with pain. You swear you will defeat him one day. Perhaps you will since you start showing up to the dojo to train and you’re improving fast.)

Towards the end of summer, you start helping out in the kitchen too. On a particular day, you head out to the market to help the canteen chefs replenish their stocks. Hijikata asks you to help him get a bottle of mayonnaise from the supermarket.

A bunch of ruffians bump into you as you’re carrying bags of food back. You hear the eggs crack in one of the bags that dropped. They stare daggers at you, but you glare back at them. The guy with a red afro, who you suppose is the leader, stomps up to you. His face hovering right in front of yours.

“Hey, apologise.”

“Why? You should apologise.”

He barks out a laugh, “What a feisty kid! You wanna die or something?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand grabs the red afro man’s face. Whoever's behind you shoves the man away from you, causing the ruffian to pinch his nose in agony. A monotonous voice replies, “Sorry, this housekeeper is a fucking cockroach, hanging around dirty corners. I don’t think it’s a good idea to put your face so close to them.”

Sougo pulls you backwards, your back colliding with his chest. He raises his unsheathed sword and points the metal tip between the afro man’s eyes. His voice comes out low, a snarl of a vicious dog.

“Leave.”

They turn tail and run. You hop out of his grasp, fanning your burning face.

You mutter thanks as Sougo picks up the bags you’ve dropped. Sougo tilts his body towards you, his free hand cupped around his ear. “What’s that? I couldn’t hear you?”

It’s your turn to scoff and you walk forward without replying to him. On the way back, the back of your hand bumps into his way too many times.

(Sougo doesn’t see non-samurai talk back often. Maybe you’re secretly one.)

With you, Sougo forgets for a while he’s not allowed to see anything as beautiful. That’s his fatal mistake.

He only remembers he shouldn't when he sees your body leaning limply on the wall behind you, head hanging forward. It only slaps him in the face when he sees streaks of red all over your body as if the perpetrator took your body for a canvas and your blood for paint. A sickening halo of crimson starts to pool on the ground beneath you. He notices you holding a metal rod with a splotch of blood on its edge.

Sougo hears swords being unsheathed behind him. He immediately identifies them as remnants of a malicious yakuza that the Shinsengumi attempted to wipe out months ago. They start making threats that Sougo knows are empty. He makes easy work of them, unaware of the beast that his enemies see in his eyes. As he cuts them down, he notices that one of the opponents already has a bleeding wound on his head.

An amused laugh spills out of his lips.

The moment the last opponent falls to their knees, he rushes to your side. Your pulse is weak and your breathing is shallow. His breathing starts becoming erratic. He pulls out his phone. It's out of battery.

He peels off his jacket and drapes it around you. Following that, he lifts you up his back. He ignores the cuts and gashes that cry out with agony when he stands up. He piggy-backs you out of the abandoned warehouse and towards the nearest hospital.

Fuck this shit, he should have made sure his metaphorical shit-filled glasses rested securely on the bridge of his nose. Hell, he should have gotten goggles instead.

Anything mesmerising isn’t for him to keep.

His white shirt feels paper-thin today. He feels the fabric with your blood plaster onto his back.

He curses under his breath, “For fucks sake, [name]. You’re supposed to be a cockroach. If a meteorite didn’t wipe you out, this wouldn’t kill you.”

Sougo thinks he heard a weak hum in your chest.

“Stay with me, idiot. This is an order from the Captain of the 1st Division of the Shinsengumi.”

(You’re not even one of his men.)

Even with your face right beside his ear, he strains to hear your inhales and exhales. It’s hard to hear with his feet that drag themselves across the concrete.

“Is it that hard for you to stay? Did you have a death wish you told no one about?”

Unconsciously, he grits his teeth. Why did his phone have to run out of battery right at this crucial time? He should have charged it this morning. It’s your fault. It’s always because you charge it for him but you weren’t there to charge it this morning.

He feels like he’s clutching his sister’s hand beside her death bed again.

“Stay.”

It comes out like a whimper of an abandoned puppy. He hates how pathetic he sounds, but it doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no one left to listen to him. You’re slowly moving further from his grasp.

“I will.”

Your words almost get carried away by the wind. There’s a sudden push in the muscles of his legs and every part of him goes into overdrive.

He makes it to the hospital in time. You almost don’t make it, but you make it. By your bedside, his hands wish to hold yours. But there’s no urgency, no desperation for him to clutch onto your hand like he’s trying to keep your life in his grasp.

After that, he makes sure he puts on a pair of dirt-smeared glasses.

(Sometimes, when he’s feeling less of a coward, he’ll look at you through the gaps between the smears. Sometimes, he’ll remember you’re a cockroach and that you’ll show up yourself on the surface of his glasses.)

[Kamui]

Ever since you were kids, you have done everything for Kamui. Silently. So when he asked you to join the Harusame with him, you followed him without asking for anything in return.

There were many instances where you regretted joining the Harusame. But you’re thankful that you’re no longer looking out for Kamui alone. Housen mentored Kamui and you’re glad there’s someone much stronger than you he could approach. While you belong to the Yato clan too, you think (and deep down you know) that you’re no longer able to keep up with his strength. You stop sparring with him because a part of you screams that he’s going to toss you out of his squad for potentially losing to him. Due to there being other matters concerning Kamui that you have to attend to, you’re grateful that Abuto is there to clean up Kamui’s mess when you can’t.

You’re aware he has no interest in romance and he’s unlikely to ever look at you the same way you look at him. (And you look at him silently for it.) Even so, you think you can stay with him forever, status quo. It’s not as if you could find guys elsewhere because once you’re in the Harusame, there’s no way out. You can’t imagine being with all the other cluck-faced amantos in the Harusame either.

But it gives you some solace that he cares about you in some way. In the middle of wolfing down his meals, he’d stop abruptly and ask you if you’d like a bit of something he thought tasted good. He’d pull a piece of lint that’s clinging onto your hair. He even once brought back a squashed piece of manju (a poor bystander that suffered collateral damage from one of his fights) when you stayed behind to watch the ship during his visit to Yoshiwara.

He gave you the umbrella you use in fights now. He also gave you your first-ever umbrella.

You still keep it because he gave it to you. You still keep it because it was his first umbrella too. Now, it stands in the corner of your room, beside the much larger one you use now.

“Hey, why are you walking in the rain on your own?”

You sniffle, watching the vermillion-haired boy’s reflection from the puddles beneath you.

“I don’t have one. My parents left me and I have to keep my money for food.”

“Where did your parents go?”

You don’t answer him and you pick up your pace discreetly. He keeps up and continues to pester you, even making an off-handed comment on how rude you were to ignore him.

You keep your eyes fixed on the ground, unsure what the fuck is this kid’s problem. The adults barely even bat an eyelash at you when you needed them and this kid just tries to barge in to find out more about you.

Suddenly, the rain stops. No wait, it didn’t. You still see ripples on the puddles ahead of you and the sound of droplets hitting the ground. You look up to see Kamui stand close next to you, tilting the umbrella to favour your side.

“You can have mine then. But in return, you have to be my friend. Makes up for not answering my questions too.”

When you reach your door, he shoves the umbrella handle into your hand and sprints off into the downpour.

A few days later, he comes back to your place with a slight cough. He comes back again the next day. And the next…

The problem you have is that no one seems to be able to reign in his lust for battle. He doesn’t care for you enough to do that. He probably cares the same way a group member would care about another useful group member in the project.

(He still asks you why you keep that worn umbrella, especially when you’re no longer using it. You don’t tell him it’s the only gift from him that came from him when strength was not all that was in his head. It’s a gift from the Kamui who had space for both you and his ambitions in his heart.)

Abuto says that you’re their best bet in persuading him to learn how to pull the brakes, but you haven’t so far. It makes you want to launch yourself into space and run away from this godforsaken crime syndicate. When he returns to you with blood-soaked sleeves, you don’t know how much longer the dam of your tears will hold. You pray with your entire being, to whoever’s still listening to you, that they're all blood shed by the enemy before he undresses for you to treat him. You pray in silence.

Of course, some of it is blood shed by the enemy. But the bloom of red on one side of his shoulder is a gunshot with a bullet you have to pull out before it closes at godspeed. A crimson river flows down his forearm and you have to stitch his skin up.

Even after umpteen times, you still feel the heat in your cheeks when you examine his toned and refined body. But the cuts and splatters of dirty blood make your worry curl its witch-like fingers around your windpipe, making you forget about how he's shirtless.

Kamui says there’s no real need to patch him up. But even if he’s not hurting, you are. The Yato are meant to fight, but you wish for once, he’d stop throwing himself into battles as if nobody values his life.

You lock up all your lamenting and tuck it in the deepest corner of your mind. It’s not like he’ll value what you say to him. You continue to stick by his side as if there’s super glue between you two.

But even with time, super glue can be worn down. You feel something in your heart snap when he walks into your room with the head of a spear lodged in his back that he couldn’t pull out. That dumb smile still on his face. What the hell are his subordinates doing letting him walk around without removing it?

Ever since you were kids, you did everything for Kamui silently. You give him the last piece of manju you wanted for yourself without protest. You bandage up his cut-littered arms, holding back your tears when you think about the bullies so he wouldn’t hear your sobs. You spar with him after a long day, biting back whimpers when his wooden rod grazes against your skin.

But this time you tell him to fuck off. The smile on his face falls a little. In Kamui’s mind, you never swear. You make it a rule not to look at him until you’re out of his sight.

“You having a bad day?”

You ignore him, grabbing your shawl and draping it over your shoulders. He’s standing in the middle of the door, blocking your way. You shove him off with your shoulder and see him flinch at the corner of your eye. You dig your nails into your palm.

Kamui grabs your wrist with an iron grip.

“Where are you going?”

You try to pry your wrist out, but his grip tightens.

“I’m leaving the Harusame.”

There’s no delay in his question. “Why?”

“I’m done with you.”

Kamui clenches his jaw, trying to keep that grin plastered on his face. He tastes metal on his tongue. Your fingers find their way to your shirt and you crumple a portion in your fists. He chuckles with his mouth closed, the forced laugh thrumming about haphazardly in his chest. Instead of relieving the tension, he feels the echoes of his laugh suffocate him.

“Fight me. If you win, I’ll let you go.”

As you try to take a step forward, he jokes with a feigned spring in his voice, “It’s an order by the way. Can you believe I’m using my authority right now?”

You bite your lip to push down the lump in your throat, but the tears come flowing out anyway. He’s always talking about how your potential is wasted. You’re leaving and this is probably all he’s thinking about. Make full use of [name] before they go.

“Go ahead and kill me then. I’m done. I’m fucking done watching you waste yourself away on the battlefield. I’m done feeling like I’m the one who got stabbed when it’s you.”

You start to choke on your words and sob. In between sobs, you scream, “I’m sick of wondering when you’ll stop showing up to get yourself patched up.”

You heave and exhale, the frustration rendering you unable to form words for a while.

“I joined you because you asked, but you don’t even care about me because you can’t do the basic thing of taking care of yourself.”

(Oh, how he means the world to you, too. But you’re probably just a pawn in his whole scheme of getting strong. Silence still follows you here because you zip your mouth when the thought pops in your mind. Maybe silence is a curse because you wish you dared to say that.)

When you regain your composure, you say, “I’ll get executed by the Harusame for leaving anyway, so you can have the honour of killing me in a spar before they do.”

You think your bones are on the verge of cracking like your heart.

“You’re being fucking unfair, Kamui. Let go. I’ll fight you, that’s what you want, right?”

It’s one of the rare times Kamui stays silent. Should you be grateful you’ve witnessed him shut his mouth before your death or should you desire him to answer you? You throw your fist towards his face. He stops it with his palm, a loud boom reverberating.

“Stay.”

The word drops out of his mouth like a pin falling off a table. You almost miss it with the noise and the whirring of the engine that kept you up for many nights when you first joined. You almost miss it with how raspy his voice is. The word clinks against the ground and its echoes roar over the machinery in your ears. It holds your feet down like a boulder that you can’t kick off or lift. Unconsciously, his grip on your wrist loosens.

The other hand that blocked your fist holds onto your shoulder. His touch is still rough as if it only knows how to make someone keel over, but you can feel him hold his strength back.

You mutter, “How do you expect me to stay in this shithole when you don’t make it any better?”

You hear Kamui inhale as if he’s about to say something, but stops as he chokes on his words. He falls to the ground on his knees. You crouch down to his level and look him in the eye.

Whatever light that was left in his eyes is snuffed out. He’s dropped the pretentious smile he always wears and in its place, a bittersweet curl of his lips.

“You’re the only one left to protect.”

You don’t move for a moment, your mouth slightly parted.

The man in front of you is no longer the bloodthirsty captain of the 7th division. He’s the boy who sat by your side after yet another heavy downpour. The same boy staring into the distance (not even the horizon but instead into another rundown building) with dejected eyes, telling you he wishes he could have protected his sister from the bullies.

You slide your wrist out of his grip and he abruptly looks up, expecting you to walk away from him. Instead, you embrace him in a hug.

You whisper, “Will everything end when you reach the top of the world?”

Kamui’s arms circle your body tentatively. After much hesitation, his palm rests on your back while his arms go lax. He only nods, but it’s timid. You hover your fingers over his wounds on the back, over the wound with the spear.

“And when will that be?”

He doesn’t have an answer for you. He thinks of a couple of answers. When you guys rise to the top of the Harusame? When he defeats that silver-haired samurai down on Earth?

He doesn’t answer you.

Maybe you’re asking too much from him all at once. After all, you’ve never asked anything much from him before.

“Pick your fights, will you? The ones that are just slightly more challenging. This is the last time I’m pulling a spear out of your body.”

#okita sougo x reader #okita sougo imagines #kamui x reader #kamui imagines #okita sougo #kamui #gintama kamui #gintama x reader #gintama imagines #gintama writing #gintama #souglia.s #I cannot believe I wrote 2k for each of them #the word count was so unplanned #going to pass out for 12 hours now #and then try to do a single person party for sougo when I wake up

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