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redsaurrce · 1 year

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DRINK ME UP - 1

Part-2 Part-3

Synopsis : After seeing another man beside you holding you by your waist, Jungkook couldn't help but get utterly wasted. What do you see when you go to him? What happens that night?

Pairing : YANDEREJeon Jungkook x dancer fem!reader

Genre : SMUT, drunk jk!au

Word count : 2.02 K

Warnings : 18+, YANDERE AND OBSESSIVE THEMES, EXTREME JEALOUSY, kissing, Profanity, nipple play, alcohol, fingering, penetration, wine used in explicit activity (ah shit here I go again o.o), signs of cheating and betrayal

A/N: SOOOOO... we are a family of nine hundred *EN AAI EN EE= na-een* which rhymes with? That's true - DABLU AAI EN EE- Wa-een! Let's have wine party everyoneeeeee 🥂 *clicks glass!!* THANKYOU TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUUUUU 💗💗💗

Jungkook looked at the bright lit stage go dim all of a sudden, the very moment when you were to set foot on the stage, all the lights now focused upon you. He loved to see you shine so much, he loved to see when you would do what you loved, which was dancing.

Today shouldn't have been any different, he would've loved everything he was looking at right now but he couldn't feel an ounce of joy.

Not when he noticed how your dance partner had his hand snaked around your waist, not when you both danced ever so closely. People cheered on over your performance, they called you the beauty of the night but Jungkook could hear nothing. The only thing his brain was focused on was you and your partner's audacity to touch you like he owned you.

He inhaled sharply as he felt his chest tighten with every passing second, even though he wanted to snatch you away from him right then and there, he wouldn't. He knew very well how much you have practiced for today's show since past few months, he couldn't ruin that.

So he gulped hard and got up from his seat to leave the auditorium by himself.

When your performance got over, the entire atmosphere lit up with cheers, claps and whistles and when your happy eyes tried to search for your lover cheering for you in the audience, he was nowhere to be found.

Causing you feel a little bad. "It was amazing to work with you Y/N, my wife wanted to treat us to a meal, if possible you should bring your boyfriend along with you." He said happily and you both walked towards the lounge after being greeted by the chief guests.

You smiled, "Sure, it seems I can't get a hold of my boyfriend, I'll just have a quick meal with you two, is that alright?" You asked as you kept looking here and there for Jungkook to pop up.

He nodded, "Ofcourse, that'll be great! Let's go then." He said and you both walked out of the lounge.

You were texting Jungkook but he was not responding back making you worried, did he go to home already? You mentally asked yourself upon not seeing his car in the parking lot. You quickly brought out the keys of your car since you both have actually come spearately, given how you had to come earlier for rehearsel.

When you arrived home, you saw Jungkook drinking alcohol while his whole bedroom was a mess. You hurriedly dropped your bag and jacket and went near him. "Gosh Jungkook how much did you drink?" You asked as you sat on the bed next to his drunk figure. You counted the bottles, "fucking four??" then your eyes shifted to two more bottles crushed in pieces lying on the floor.

"Fuck." You cursed under your breath as you looked at them, you hissed as you got up to get a broom to set aside the glass pieces but he caught your wrist as soon as you stood up.

You turned to look at him and he pulled you causing you to sit on his lap. "Baby whom do you love?" He asked you as his voice hitched due to the effects of alcohol. Your surprised expression due to his sudden action melted into a soft smile, "You, ofcourse." You said as you started caressing his rosy cheeks.

You knew Jungkook was a ten but he was WAYYY too clingy, Jungkook liked whenever you did these kind of little actions like carressing his cheeks, patting his head, kissing his forehead.

He pulled you closer catching you off guard. His face just a mere centimeters away from you, he whispered, "Really?" He asked you.

"Yes." You answered.

"Are you sure?" He asked you again while shifting himself even more closer to you. "I am." Your heart started hammering in your chest and you said with the slightest of movement of your lips, you were afraid that it would touch his.

He shifted even more closer, finally causing both of your lips to touch and spoke, "How sure are you?" He pecked your lips. "I.." and before you could utter the next word he pecked your lips again, "Answer me." He pecked your lips for the third time.

And when you opened your mouth to answer him, he attached his mouth to yours with force causing you to fall backwards on the sofa while he was above you.

He started kissing you like he starving since decades. In between your kiss you suddenly started feeling something hot run down your cheeks. They were tears, you wanted to stop and ask him what was going on but he didn't budge as he kept on kissing you possessively.

After a while when you both were lacking oxygen, he got up and you finally got to see his face. His eyes were red while tears dried on his cheeks. He looked absolutely heartbroken and it made you feel miserable to see him like this.

"Jungkook baby, what's the matter?" You asked him with worry in your eyes. This is what he needed to see, to see that you still cared for him, that he still was the one in your heart. That he was still yours and you were his.

But that wasn't enough, Jungkook needed to erase the memories of the love of his life standing next to another man who wasn't him, a man who touched you at places where only he was allowed to.

He hurriedly got off from you and took a bottle of wine in his hands, your eyes grew wide, was he going to drink more? "Jungkook please don't drink anymo-"

"Y/N baby." He cut you off as he got above you again, "What is it?" You asked him.

"Isn't alcohol used to disinfect germs?" He asked you while opening the cork of the bottle.

You hummed. "Then let me disinfect you." He said and poured some wine on your legs causing you to flinch from the sensation. He softly chuckled, "Do not worry love, I am only cleaning the unwanted touch- i mean the germs off you. Your skin shouldn't have those." He said and he leaned down to lick your right leg all the way from your feet to your knee.

You looked at him astonished but you couldn't deny that what was coming would be the treat of tonight. So you allowed him to take control over your body.

He repeated the same action with your left leg up until your knee where your skirt was ending.

He sat up and poured the wine on your waist and started lapping on your body like a dog but it started to feel ticklish and hence when you tried to push him away on reflex, he piped you down by groping your breasts. He started massaging them and then ran his fingers around the area of your nipples which had now hardened.

You moaned from the sensation and since he absolutely loved it when you moaned, he slid his other hand inside your skirt and started circling your pussy area.

You were getting wet.

He was getting a boner.

He could no more hold himself back and immediately poured all the wine over your neck till your chest and broke the bottle on the bedside, allowing him to gain a broken piece of the wine bottle to cut your dress apart.

He then tore off your bra making your wine soaked breasts naked under his hungry eyes.

He undressed himself and threw off his shirt away as he leaned down to lick your sweet cherries, he bit them, chewed them and pulled them up with his teeth until your moans became louder.

While his mouth was working on your nipples, his hands took the bottle piece to tear your panty apart and he opened his trousers as well.

When he felt that your vaginal opening hasn't dilated, he bit your nipple way too hard earning him a scream and your legs spread apart letting his dick get more access to get inside.

When it was getting tighter against your walls he flicked your other nipple hard and you were sure you saw stars in your eyes, making your walls relaxed and his penis finally going deep inside.

He started thrusting in and out while his mouth never left your boobs staying at one place, causing your nipples to continuosly stretch and shorten like a spring.

You had held the bedsheets tight while you couldn't stop moaning and screaming and you heard him moan louder as well.

This went on for a long time until you both felt physically exhausted.

He sighed and lied down next to you with his one hand around your waist, another hand fingering you pussy and his mouth suckling your boobs.

You ran your tired hand over his hair, "You cried earlier Jungkook, why?"

He detached his mouth and looked up at you, "Maybe because I was overwhelmed, maybe it was the alcohol?" He said with his smirk as he brought his hand up from your pussy and licked his fingers.

"Either way, I'm glad you're mine." He breathed as he felt his alcohol starring to wear off.

"But..." He continued after he started feeling sober. "But?" You asked.

He contorted his eyebrows, "Why.. is your face changing?" He felt confusion spiral in his head because with every passing moment, you looked more and more different.

No- You- "You! Who are you?" Jungkook got up immediately and shook his head, "Where's Y/N? Who the hell are you."

"Ah.. looks like you're completely sober now, it hurt me everytime you called me by your girlfriend's name but atleast I got to sleep with you. Damn it was such a good sex." The girl whom Jungkook mistook to be you under the heavy influence of alcohol was grinning ear to ear while Jungkook stood there with wide horrified eyes.

"Who knew ditching my husband and Y/N at dinner by making the excuse of having stomachache would grant me such a hot night." She bit her lips seductively while getting closer to him.

Jungkook felt absolutely nauseated, he felt disgusted and most importantly he wanted to kill her. Even if he absolutely wanted to do that, murder won't get him anywhere, it's too complicated to clean the mess up.

So he needed to get away, anywhere as long as it is away from her.

He stomped his way towards the door while the girl followed him behind.

Just when Jungkook opened the door, his worst nightmare came true. You were standing there, speechless with eyes wide open as if a deer was caught in headlights.

The girl beside him, whom you recognised to be your dance partner's wife, interlocked her arms with his and he immediately snatched his arm away. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jungkook was beyond frustrated.

"Omg honey, is it because Y/N's here? Why? Didn't you tell earlier that after we sleep together, you'll breakup with her?" She batted her eyelashes.

"Sleep?" You whispered almost doubting yourself if you heard that wrong.

"No Y/N! It's not what you think-"

"Jungkook if you ever truly loved me then be honest, did you both sleep together or no?" You asked, still thinking all this was unbelievable.

Seeing Jungkook wrapped in towel by his waist with another woman wrapped in bedsheet standing next to him, all of this was unbelievable. Were you too easy that Jungkook coaxed you into becoming his girlfriend, telling you how much he loved you every day and night- only to show you this? Were you that naive?

"Y/N we did sleep together but--" "Stop!" You raised your palm to stop him from saying any further. So to Jungkook you were just an easy girl? You wanted to laugh, did he really think of making excuses after his 'but'?

You shook your head, "Jungkook let's breakup and never see each other ever again."

You started running with tears in your eyes, it was going to be a long night with alcohol by your side.

Tysm for making it till the end, your feedback is HIGHLY appreciated 💗 MWAHH!! (Fu*k BRB crying)

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milo-hypno · 5 months

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hello! i don’t typically use tumblr so i apologize if the formatting is odd, but i wanted to just express my absolute gratitude for eventually the birds must land so i am taking the leap of faith and doing so by starting off with:

wow.

just wow. genuinely, i have not read a fic in a very long time [possibly ever, in the years i’ve spent consuming fanfiction] that has elicited the type of emotions i’m feeling in the way that eventually the birds must land does. i’ve kept up with the work since the first update and have been hooked ever since, these past few updates leaving me constantly thinking about how the plot could go next [expectations always exceeded,] the interactions the chapter held, just rereading upon rereading segments eagerly awaiting the next update [as patiently as i could, of course.]

it left me to vaguely talk about my excitement to my irl friends, who fortunately know about my tendency to consume literature like it’s nobody’s business. that was a bit insane in itself because i never talk about fics to anyone!! i simply felt so compelled to express how crazy i was going over a fic of all things because of how beautifully written and inspiring it was, is even, and i’m very much not the type to do so.

of course, after realizing you had also written the sky was still, honestly, blue, all goes outward and onward, and home, home again [the series i still go insane about and reread occasionally, mind you] i realized i probably shouldn’t be shocked that of all the writers to create something so absolutely heartwarming and overwhelmingly human, it was you milo hypno-cat.

and so, thank you for creating these pieces and sharing them to the world, they are always a joy to read and i do hope you’ll continue for as long as you enjoy writing. eventually the birds must land got me through a lot these past few months, and i wouldn’t have it any other way. enjoy the holidays if you celebrate and i look forward to reading the other one-shots you add to the universe, if you choose to write them!

Hi Anon!! Sorry for the delay - I've been in a lot of pain in the past few days, and wanted to wait to answer this until I was feeling a bit better!

Firstly- your formatting is just fine, and I'm very touched that you came to Tumblr to send this!!!

Secondly- i am so touched, reading this. You don't know how much I beamed, when this dropped into my Dms. To know that my writing affected you like this, made you reread and reread and drove you to talk about it to other people??? To drive you outside of your normal habits because you enjoyed it so much? That's- a definite ego boost. I'm incredibly honored, and pleased, to hear that. I can't even tell you how much pride it brings me!

Thank you so very much. So very much. I'm glad my writing has been able to reach you like it has, multiple times - and I promise that I certainly will keep writing, as long as my brain continues to think and my fingers continue to flex!

(I plan on getting published eventually, even, but it's definitely a challenge LOL!)

I'm sorry if this is a mess, I'm still recovering and my brain is a little mush right now - but the essence is this. Thank you for reading, and enjoying what I write, and enjoying it so much that it drove you to send me such a sweet and lovely message. I really, really, appreciate it.

#milo's rambles #asks

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furiousocean · 21 days

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I kind of woke up to reality last thursday…

And I felt myself. And realized that for a long time now parts of me have been getting rotting bit by bit, it's different than the anger I felt before, the rage had on one of its hands a desire for changing things, my life, the relationships with the members of my family and on its other: hope, hope that I could make that change happen, that I could make my mother understand me and support who I am, if I could only express myself better, if I just say the right thing. That I could actually maintain a friendship ( I can't even do that online). That my sister would be my sister again….it came with energy and actions…

I'm getting rotten and I don't feel anything anymore, I don't draw, I don't fight, I barelly can do the stupid, easy and silly things that used to bring me joy, I just don't care. There is a cruel indifference where before was a kindness and patience a try for comprehension, understanding and connection.

Last thursday I woke up a little, It took just one of my passions to shine in a new light to wake up the whole rest of my brain again, I'm feeling things… but it's just barelly what it was before, I don't want to be like this, but I don't know how long I'll stay awake this time or how strong is this want of change to battle against all the mess up parts that the decomposition has reached.

I think I'm lost, alone and without direction, Im just floating in a sea of nothingness, but I'm not sad nor terrified and I'm not unfamiliar with this calm waters, this is my home. It would be easier I think if I was scared, if this terrified me and suffocated me, maybe my surival insticts would kick in and I could get to the shore wherever that place is, because the thruth is that if I've ever had a friend who would laugh and do silly things with me I don't remember them and if there was ever a family member who could accept me and guide me, or at least like me it was all a dream, so I don't even know how this shore looks like. I lack connections in my life, I've failed in the most human experience, I craved it so much, I looked for it without knowing I was far away lost at sea… without even kowing... I dumbly tried to run when I should have been swiming assuming I was just like the others on the sand. Then I cried, fighted and finally learned to swim, so I swam, I tried to reach the shore without realizing I was just swiming in circles, I think sometimes I really drowned myself, parts of me maybe did die, maybe that's why I am rotten, what happens now? can I save myself? even tho I know how to swim I don't know where the shore is, I still don't know how to get there, maybe that isn't an option for me, I don't believe in destiny, but maybe destiny does exist, maybe my destiny is just to keep floating here… But then I wake up and I think…I don't want to be here…but if I swim I will start to drown again and i'll have more rotten parts than intact parts of myself, and this intact parts are so few… that if try and fail once again then I know I will be just a rotten body devoid of life and at the end I'll end up falling at sleep again.

#personal #I need to start therapy again #maybe I'm still a little drunk from yesterday #Listening to music right now I haven't done that in a while #journaling on tumblr because why not #fuck my english but if I write in spanish i'll die

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lazypeachsoul · 3 years

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you promise?

Request: by anon “Could you write an Osferth drabble. About anything you'd like. Please and thank you.”

Warnings: Nothing.

Word count: 1,8k

A/N: Here's the first fic for The Last Kingdom Week! Hope you enjoy some sweet baby monk. I might have gone overboard with this story, but I can't help it when it comes to osferth. Enjoy 🌼

The streets of Cookham were bustling with workers returning home from the fields that surrounded the village. Thanks to Lord Uhtred and his fame the once forgotten town had become a stop for every merchant that traveled through Wessex and the workload had increased. And you were no different than any of those other people.

The sun was now setting and it was your time to return the children you minded back to their homes, where their overworked parents would take care of them. It wasn’t normal for common workers to have child minders, normally leaving the kids at home with their mothers, but Cookham was busier than ever and women were working the fields too. And that left you to take care of the little rascals that lived in town.

You had tried to work as a seamstress and at the alehouse, but nothing seemed to really suit you. Well, at least until you started taking care of the kids. You didn’t get much pay since the people you worked for were underpaid to begin with, but the little you got you saved for a new fabric, or a sweet treat or for those times you would meet Osferth at the alehouse and you wanted to prove him that you were a hard working woman.

And how you loved those times. Osferth seemed to always be busy either training or meeting with the rest of what had now been named the “Cookham squad”. Lord Uhtred and his loyal warriors were the talk of all Wessex and a great source of gossip for the entire town. Lord Uhtred and his beautiful wife Gisela took care of the people that lived inside their walls. Then there was Finan, the loud irishman who seemed to bring joy and fun to any occasion celebrated, always close to him was Sihtric, the mysterious dane who didn’t speak much but said a lot with just a look. And the last one was the monk who is not really a monk Osferth.

When you first met him you were trying to learn to become a barmaid and accidentally tripped on his foot, sending a pitcher of ale flying everywhere and leaving you both embarrassed and asking for mutual forgiveness. Since that moment, you had started to meet together at the alehouse every few days, providing you with a nice friendship but keeping all the rules a respectable young unmarried woman should follow.

And that’s exactly where you were headed after dropping your last child at home with his grateful mother. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the familiar blonde mop of hair sitting on one of the outside benches, and you had to admit to yourself that maybe it was more than just casual meetings at the alehouse. At that moment Osferth turned around and waved in your direction and with a small wave you made your way to the bench, sitting in front of him.

“I thought you didn’t see me, you looked distracted.” Osferth's sweet voice spoke and you had to admit he was right, you almost missed it because of your constant daydreaming about the man. But you couldn’t admit that.

“Excuse me, the children were wild and I’m extremely tired. Must be because of the nice weather.”

“Maybe we should meet another day, I wouldn’t want to tire you more Lady-” “No!”

You hadn’t been able to stop the agitated answer from coming out when you heard his dismissal. You were tired but never too tired to stop meeting Osferth. You could feel your cheeks hot with embarrassment and you tried to clear your throat to diffuse the tension.

“I mean, I would rather stay here with you and relax with a friend.”

Osferth’s face seemed to harden at your words but as soon as the barmaid brought you two cups of ale everything seemed to go back to normal, except for a small curious voice at the back of your head wanting to know why the expression changed.

“A friend. Of course. I enjoy the time we spend together too.” He nodded his head, his blonde hair falling in front of his eyes before taking a sip from his cup. “The weather is really nice so I wouldn’t blame the children. Lord Uhtred told us that the weather would turn nicer before we leave.”

You felt the ale you had been drinking get stuck in your throat but you tried to conceal it with a soft cough so as to not cause a scene in the packed alehouse. Leave? They were leaving?

“Are you leaving soon? You didn’t say anything before.”

“Lord Uhtred just confirmed it this morning. The King has requested the Lord’s help in some negotiations with the danes. He thought it best for us to accompany him since his history with the king is not the most amicable.”

You nodded along as he spoke but your brain was overworking itself trying to comprehend the situation. They were leaving to assist the King of Wessex and they would leave Cookham unattended for God knows how long. Of course the real reason you were worried was not the village, Lady Gisela could take care of it and more without a problem, you were worried about Osferth and you. Was there even an 'Osferth and you' to worry about?

“That’s...great that the King and our Lord are speaking again. Maybe it might help us get resources from the crown.” You tried to excuse your previous silence but it must have been obvious you were deep in thought because Osferth looked at you with a curious face. “And when are you leaving?”

“We’re expected to depart tomorrow morning. Apparently those matters are very important and require us to be there as soon as possible.” He shrugged in a move to downplay the entire situation.

Silence was the only thing that could be heard from your side of the bench, a deep contrast from the rest of the groups happily chatting and drinking. The table was silent but your mind was not, still overthinking every word your companion had said. You were overthinking so much that you almost missed his quiet voice.

“I am going to miss you.” Osferth spoke and as soon as you looked at him again he seemed to flush. “And our conversations. Or friendly conversations as...friends.”

You wanted to laugh at the poor man in front of you. In the many months you had known Osferth you had never seen him that flustered in his life, cheeks and ears bright red and a stuttering mess.

“I’m going to miss you too Osferth. And our friendly meetings.” You placed your hand next to his on the table next to his, not wanting to overstep and make the poor man more uncomfortable.

He moved his hand carefully almost imperceptibly until his fingers touched yours and a warm feeling ran down your entire arm from your hand. He seemed to be the one deep in thought at the moment and you almost wished you could pick at his brain to see what was going on. Is that how he felt every time you zoned out?

“Maybe you could remember me-” “Of course I’m going to remember you Osferth, don’t be silly. You are not going to war, only a mission for the king.”

A nervous chuckle was the only thing he could let out now and his reactions were starting to worry you a bit. If it was only a small trip he shouldn't have been that nervous.

“Let me finish. Maybe if I gave you something that you could remember me by, it would be easier.”

“You don’t have to do that, Osferth. I will remember you anyways.” You tried to reason with him but you couldn’t stop him from moving to look for something in the pockets of his robes.

After a bit of fussing with the robes he placed his closed fist on top of your hand, opening it just enough for something small and metallic to fall into your hand. Moving your hand closer you found a small fragile chain that seemed to have been at least as old as you.

“It’s not much, just a scrap of metal if you try to sell it. But it was my mother’s, the only thing I have from her. I hid it from the monks when I was growing up so they wouldn’t take it away. Carried it into battle with me every time I’ve fought too.”

Every single word of the explanation seemed to make your throat close a bit more and your eyes glossier. You knew Osferth had no real memories with his mother and you could imagine how important that bracelet must have been for him.

“I can’t accept it, it’s so important to you. Why would you give it to me?” You debated with your head shaking and trying to push the chain into his hand again. “Don’t be silly, Osferth. It’s your mother’s bracelet.”

“You must keep it. Please.” He kept his fist tightly closed to avoid you giving him back the piece of jewelry. “I want you to have it.”

“But I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

You kept trying to pry his fist open, all in vain because he wouldn’t even budge. You wanted to get up and hug him for such a meaningful gesture and hit him at the same time for wanting to part with such a meaningful piece.

“You have.” He spoke, grabbing your hand and halting your movements. “Maybe you can give me your promise.”

You looked at him curiously at what his proposal might be. Maybe he just wanted you to take care of Lady Gisela, you knew how he saw her as the mother he never had. Or maybe he wanted you to care for Lord Uhtred’s children.

“You can promise me that once I’m back from Wincester you will allow me to properly court you.” He explained and you felt your heart stop. “I-If you want, of course.”

Courting Osferth was not something you had thought about, mainly because you had nothing to offer. Your parents didn’t have fields or many resources they could offer a prospective husband. And Osferth was a warrior, so you thought settling down seemed to be out of the picture for him. But you had to admit the idea made your stomach turn in the best way possible.

You realized you had been thinking for a long time and still hadn’t given an answer when you felt him squeezing your hand. Could you promise him something like that?

“I promise.” Of course you could, the idea of a lifetime with Osferth only made you more excited about life. “Only you have to promise me to come back soon.”

He nodded with enthusiasm, moving his hands to take the small chain from your delicate hand and clasp it around your wrist. This mission hadn’t even started and you already wanted it to end.

Taglist: @webreathfandoms @thebohemianpenguin @emilyhufflepufftlk @solinarimoon

#the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom x reader #tlk imagine #tlk x reader #osferth x reader #osferth imagine #tlk week #myfic

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cryptiql · 3 years

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smoke signals

pairing: dabi/m!reader

warnings: smoking, mentions of anxiety and abuse, but otherwise okay. please do not read forward if any of the listed warnings might trigger you in any way, and stay safe <3

words: 6.5k

a/n: this is my first ever mha fic and the fact that i decided to do dabi first shows i have some massive balls but i'm giving it a try! if he seems ooc at all or i get some facts wrong, please lmk and i'll fix them. (heavily inspired by smoke signals by phoebe bridgers—would recommend listening to it or any of her other songs while reading)

dabi found the meaning of life in a simple strum of chords; a melody twisted by melancholy tunes that resonated deep within the gates of his mind. they haunt him—either by breaking his conscious from a much needed rest to bring him tossing and turning in the damp air of the loft, or making sure that he stayed wide awake during the late hours of the night and well into the creeping day. the lyrics are so surreal that he has to sit down and contemplate their meaning like an english teacher would to the color red, but they're painted saccharine and drip with honey flowing from the mouth that sings them and he hates it. he hates that he's wasted moments better spent wrecking havoc just to understand that stupid little ditty that clings to his heart like a leech. but this song did not come from his own craft—no.

dabi had known the putrid stench of sweat and vermillion blood when the flames licked at his skin, breaching the coarse flesh of his palms to rain hellfire upon all those who dared oppress him. he could weave lies with knots that would take years to unravel, and set whole cities ablaze with a mere finger. clawing oneself from a well built to drown them in their trauma does tend to leave scars on ones hands, and dabi's body was practically a canvas for mutilation, so he could consider himself an expert on the matter. he could attempt to make such a song by strapping in with his many hours of free time and diligent persona, but his hands were not made for music; neither delicate, sonorous tunes or dark, grating strains. they were made for war.

so if anyone had asks, "no" is his answer. "i don't play." and yes, it is while he's drumming a rhythmic beat that he claims this to be true, but the last thing he thinks about is donning a set of drums during his free time. he's far too distracted by the image of your taper fingers curled around the neck of your guitar to consider anything else.

the gentle but keen plucking of chords startles him from yet another ridiculously long-winded spiel by shigaraki, and dabi swallows a strangled groan behind his grinding teeth. it's in his head, now, and so far the only thing that has succeeded in reaping it from his memory—if only for a few minutes—is the blood stained battlefield that he's found himself fighting on far too many times this month alone.

what's he complaining about, though? it's not as though he minds getting down in the dirt. in fact, he's ecstatic to dig his claws into any gruesome ordeal so long as it benefits him in some way, so why is he so invested in this little to and fro game of twenty questions with the likes of you; someone as significant in the world as a paperclip without paper to hold? why come back, despite there being nothing in it for him besides a series of migraines?

not from you, a voice answers from inside. you're an absolute pleasure.

dabi nearly snarls at the confirmation that his own mind is turning against him, and as he does this, a plume of smoke erupts from his lips, billowing and curving to create intricate patters before dissipating into the atmosphere. a second time. a third. a fourth drag from the cigarette has completely obscured his face from anyone's view, and he relishes in the instant of privacy it gives him. however, it has also blocked him from seeing everyone else in the room, and while he normally would have considered that a blessing, it appears tomura has had enough of it.

you get headaches because you smoke too much, comes a second voice; yours, scolding in a way he'd only expect from a worried mother. dabi only has a split second to register it before shigaraki's head pokes through the fumes, red eyes alight with rage and lips pulled back into a snarl.

"would you quit doing that inside? it's fogging up my brain and i can't think straight." he grates.

"strange—i assumed there wasn't a brain in there to fog up in the first place." tomura's nostrils flare and dabi's pride spikes.

"besides, you came in here and looked directly at me as i was smoking—why didn't you ask me to stop then?"

"i was telling you with my eyes, idiot. you should know when it's time to either take it outside or put the damn thing out. there are ashtrays for a reason, and not everyone here wants to inhale that shit." he interrupts their intense staring contest only to wave his hand to clear the smog. now he can see the rest of the league clearly (oh joy, he thinks) and gives an indignant grunt when spotting toga at the bar table, covering her mouth and nose as a pitiful aim to block her lungs from the smoke. twice, who had unfortunately used up the last pack of his own cigarettes that morning, leans forward to take a whiff, exhaling soon after with satisfaction.

kurogiri stands at his usual spot behind the bar, seemingly unaffected as he idly scrubs away at grime infested glasses, while sako lounges at the opposite end of the room. his mask is on, leaving dabi to wonder if it's been like that all day, or if he just recently put it on to better fend off the fumes. he doesn't really care, whatever the case.

after a beat of silence, dabi wets his lips to respond, a lopsided smirk growing on his features.

"oh, i'm sorry your frail body hasn't adapted to a bit of vapor in the air. and with that flakey skin of yours, it's no wonder you're extra sensitive—"

shigaraki's hands come flying through the next waft to slam against the tabletop where dabi's feet lie, causing it to wobble and creak in protest. the ravenette doesn't even flinch as the harsh, raspy words are spat in his face.

"if you're not going to pay attention, then leave. actually, i'd prefer you do that either way."

and dabi would have happily disregarded his request if not for the faint ringing in his ears, rising higher and higher before receding back into his skull like the tide. a scowl morphs its way onto his once vacant expression as he puts pressure on his temple, rubbing softly where his eyebrows knit together. just for today, he'll indulge his so-called boss's whims. the piercing screech that emits from below when he pushes his chair back does nothing to help with the ever-growing headache, but it hardly matters now that he's headed out the exit. he's able to catch the last fragments of shigaraki's raving before the door closes, leaving him to stand amid the tumult of the city in all of its glory.

the alleyway is dark with looming shadows, but people are still milling about, so dabi considers himself lucky for already being dressed in his disguise. he flips his hood up, pulls the surgical mask over his nose and quickly slides on his sunglasses for good measure before slipping out into the traffic, sometimes going with the flow and then weaving past those moving too slow for his liking.

right now, his patience is a mere thread; hair thin and on the edge of snapping whenever someone bumps his shoulder. their negligence is infuriating, and he's tempted to roast them into a charred, mangled mess then and there—the consequences of blowing his cover be damned—but by some miracle, he manages to refrain from doing so. it takes about five minutes for his temper to shorten to the length of a matchstick, and he knows that one more shove will be what strikes it. dabi pauses for a moment to crane his neck, allowing the sea of people to flow around him like a stream to a rock as he searches for an alternative route. it appears as though he'll have to take his chances with the crowd until he hears the repetitive ringing of a bell and a man's voice calling for passengers to board. public transport was risky, what with him being a menace to society, but he can't possibly be the single most shady dressing person on the train, right?

he wouldn't bother answering his own question when daylight was burning, so dabi pushes himself from the swarm and leaps for the streetcar just as it begins pulling away from the stop. there's a shuddering jolt before the passengers settle in for their departure, and as his palms squeeze the metal railing in response, he notices the peeling red paint clinging to the car's exterior and finds himself staring at it for a ludicrous amount of time, not thinking about anything in particular.

the rickety trolley is semi-packed with civilians, none of whom regard his presence with anything more than a noncommittal glance. good—that makes his job ten times easier. to his chagrin, it runs over more than a few opposing train tracks or crudely paved bumps in the road, and this causes the whole cart to jostle before stilling completely, the process repeating itself over and over.

the knowledge that his trip to the outskirts of town is a short one is the only thing that calms his nerves.

when dabi finally arrives at his destination, the sun is gradually descending from its peak in the sky, and the clouds are more like wispy tufts than the luscious, cotton candy lumps they were just hours earlier. overhead, the baby blue hues turn to shades of opal; a forewarning of rain. the feelings of irritation and malice from earlier are still bound to him like chains that threaten to snap him in half when drawn too tight. the crippling weight causes his feet to drag along the gravel path at a sluggish pace, his own hot breaths fanning against his face from behind the mask. if anyone actually lived out here and they were to see him, their first impression would be that a living corpse had just waltzed onto their property. it was just his luck, then, that you were the only person out here, and by extent, the only one not deterred by his appearance.

even so, dabi's mind kicks into gear. was this a good idea? he doesn't even know why he came here—he just needed a place to blow off steam and his body had already made the choice on its own. this isn't any different from all the other times, though, and he can't ignore the fact when it sits in the pit of his stomach like an anchor. you're always the first person he goes to at times like these (dabi subconsciously rules out the man working at the local 7/11 who sells his liquor cheap, though he's still appreciative of the bottle to numb his thoughts). that tells him more than he wants to know.

your house is quaint, like those old country cottages he sometimes sees pictures of, and squats on a large, grassy mound of earth surrounded by heaps of rocks and sand from the neighboring beach. it merges with a towering lighthouse, and dabi notes that there must not be any sailors due to make port yet, otherwise the light would be on. the second thing he takes in are the flowerbeds sitting under your two front windows, and how they look withered and close to death.

"i wanted to add some color, but i can't keep plants alive for shit." you had said, huffing in amusement to yourself as you tended to the weeping alliums. "succulents are the only exception."

a small pot of them sits on the windowsill, but they seem to have gotten to big for it; the rubbery leaves spilling over the cracked rim. he hardly registers how much of a stalker he must look like until he stands on your welcome mat, peering through the dirty glass panes to find you nowhere in sight. the lights aren't on, so he can only see the outlines of furniture when bands of light stream in to reveal them.

sitting back on the balls of his feet, dabi curses under his breath. it's not like he was expecting anything. how was he supposed to know whether or not you were home when you had no way of telling him?

"jesus, patch!" a shout startles him from his brooding, but he doesn't let it show as he looks towards to ocean. you're hauling yourself over a large rock to wave him over, wearing a familiar grin. so that's why he couldn't see you. dabi makes careful work of leaping over jagged stones and threatening to bake any nosy seagulls as he makes his way to where you sit, with your favored instrument slung over your shoulder. the ghost of a smile graces his lips when he recalls how you would have scolded him for being mean to the birds, but that was before last week.

"pesky fucking bastards—they keep shitting on my music sheets!" another seagull waddles into your vicinity, only to squawk in distress as you shoo it away with your foot. "i wonder if this is natures way of telling me to quit while i'm behind. . ."

after breaching the treacherous terrain and nearly scraping himself in the process, dabi squats on the stone beside yours, looking up at you with hooded eyes. you meet his gaze with nothing short of merriment and a shake of your head.

"if someone had seen you, you would have been arrested on the spot for being a peeping tom." you chuckle, combing a hand through your hair with a smirk. "what? you lookin' you catch me in the nude or something?"

dabi scowls, choosing to ignore the question rather than give into the bait. as if i would be satisfied by looking at anyone but you in that state. he swats the air as if it would drive the notion from his mind like a bothersome fly.

"in the middle of fuck-ass nowhere? i'd never get caught."

"aw, don't be like that. if you really wanted a peek you could've just asked." the mocking tone in your voice spurs him to smack your thigh, which earns a hearty laugh in reply.

"ooh, don't treat me so roughly, or i might begin to like it!"

dabi has had more than enough experience with your flirtatious tendencies, and he feels he should have gotten used to it by now, but his heart still clenches every damn time. the worse part? he can't say that he minds. you don't give him a chance to respond, but dabi hasn't a clue what he would have said, so he lets you continue, watching intently as you rifle through your bag to fish out a guitar pick. shifting into a crisscross position, you perch the guitar on your lap and begin tuning the strings, idly talking about how uneventful the past days have been. dabi pretends not to have heard that it was because he wasn't there to visit, and instead gives his attention to the lighthouse in hopes that you won't see the faintest of reds dusting his ears.

five minutes pass before you actually start playing, and even then, it's only a few experimental notes here and there that help you build towards the perfected melody.

it's too sweet for his taste; dabi swears that's why his stomach turns so ferociously and prompts him to lean against the boulder to his right for some sort of stability. he won't even humor the idea that it's because of the way your lips twitch into a near half-smile before melding back into a concentrated frown the moment you strike a wrong cord. an embarrassed flush captures your cheeks as you study the music sheets, briefly pressing down on them when a sudden breeze flutters the pages. the pencil that was once tucked behind your ear now sticks out from one corner of your mouth, a flash of pink and orange melding together when you go to absentmindedly gnaw on the wood.

many more minutes fly by, and you've long since abandoned the new tune just to pick up an old one. dabi's back straightens at the first set of strings you pluck, and he recognizes them as the same ones that have been playing on repeat in his head since the day you met.

dabi's heart hammers in tune with every footfall that slaps against the pavement, tearing through the small pools of water that grow with every second. it hasn't stopped raining since the chase began, and there isn't an inch of him that hasn't been soaked through. still, something good must come from this little dilemma—the burning sensation that clings to his arms has almost settled down. the silhouettes of trees merge with inky blackness when he blinks, and he reaches with trembling hands to wipe the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes.

a yellow square of what assumes to be light shines in the distance, contrasting wildly adverse to the darkness that sweeps him up from under his feet and pushes him forward. the sound of police sirens has been reduced to a mere memory in the time that was running, but he isn't about to risk going back to the league's base in fear of a stakeout waiting to get the jump on them. besides, why stop there when the possibility of shelter awaits him?

the bottoms of dabi's shoes are slick with mud, and blades of grass have snuck their way under the cuffs of his jeans to scratch at his skin. the sensations paired with the numbing cold are beyond uncomfortable, but he won't have to worry about that once he gets inside—that being if the person inside doesn't put up a fight.

he'd expect them to be mad if they did anything except that, no matter how welcoming the house looked. dabi's instincts tell him that someone out this far from the city doesn't a have a lot of connections, and thus killing them wouldn't cause an uprising if it were needed, but the minute he grips the doorknob, a thought occurs. if they have a quirk, its power could level my own or even surpass it. . . he grits his teeth. but like hell i'm going to let them win.

the hesitation vanishes in an instant as dabi turns the knob and thrusts himself inside, wielding a blue flame in his dominant hand to further illuminate the room. the wind is so fierce that it pulls the door shut for him, and the villain finds himself staring down the unperturbed figure of another man, perhaps around his age, hunched over a stove and glaring at a steaming kettle. they lock gazes, and almost immediately, the kettle gives a high pitched whistle. you look away first, lifting the pot and turning the burner off whilst opening the cupboard overhead to pull out two mugs, both of which adorn ugly christmas-themed patterns that dabi wishes he could forget ever seeing.

his glare hardens when you move to the table in the far corner and begin pouring what he assumes to be tea, taking one cup into your own grasp and leaving the other at his own disposal. your one mistake is grabbing your phone from the counter, but when dabi's flame enlarges, you hold your arms up in defense. then, before he can even formulate a proper threat, you toss the phone to him. he catches it easily and observes the dark screen, masking his astonishment with a more sinister expression.

the only other move you make is to drape yourself across a cushion on the window seat with an acoustic guitar in hand. you look more relaxed by the second despite being cornered by a dangerous criminal, and dabi has to refrain from voicing his shock when you address him with an almost bored tone.

"if the tea isn't to your taste, there's more in the cabinet. shower is down the hall to your left, and there's a spare bedroom upstairs to the right. do whatever the hell you want, just don't burn the place down or touch my freddie mercury records."

dabi is stuck to the spot for one of three reasons, he determines. one, your attitude has surprised him into a stupor that not even hiw own will can break. two, his refusal to believe that you're handling this situation in a calm manner is really just his defense mechanism kicking in, and he won't move until proven that you won't do anything when his back is turned. and three, you're quirk is similar to that of madusa's and you've successfully turned him into a fleshy mannequin.

"if you're worried about me calling the cops, what you're holding is the only working phone here. the power is out due to the storm, so my landline is dead, and the nearest form of help is a crippled old widow five miles west. i'm not going to risk running when i'm up against someone with a quirk."

dabi considers everything said, but never once allows his fire to dim. he took the surrounding area into account while making his escape, and he can see the landline is in fact out of service, so the male's assurances checked out. hell, the light source that guided him here was nothing but an old-timey oil lamp. the fact that you're quirkless does him a great amount of good as well.

with cautious steps, dabi makes a beeline for the bathroom, but he stops halfway to stare at you again. you respond by quirking a brow and kicking your feet up, something akin to mischief in your guise.

"i can take the shower with you since you're so afraid i'll make a break for it." you drawl, and dabi snarls, a fowl cuss bubbling in his throat as heat crawls its way up his neck.

"why, with a blush like that you might not need any drying off~."

dabi decides that he's had enough and storms down the hall, already peeling off his dripping clothes and and silently promising that he'll burn the guy to a crisp if he so much as tries to catch a peek. he can hear you calling out in hilarity even as he slinks into the shower and attempts to drown you out with the static-filled haze that captures his senses.

"the name's, y/n, by the way!"

try as he might, dabi had never been able to keep from coming back. now the reason why has been revealed to him on a silver platter, and he won't even spare it a glance.

your soft singing snaps him from his reminiscing as he stretches his legs, stifling a groan when something pops as not to disturb you. while digging through his pockets for a cigarette, he stops momentarily for fear of forgetting how to breathe when he lays his sights on you. you're in your own little world; everything else—him included— seems to have disappeared as you play from the heart. you need no standing ovation, no adoring fans or fantastic lightshows. you've said it once, that fame and glory mean nothing to you, and that you have all you could ever want or need right here, nestled in the beachside view of what you call home.

"and i have you." a cool breeze ruffles your dirt stained overalls as you reach up to wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead. the sun beats down on you, never shining half as bright as your smile, and the shore kisses the boulders with waxing and waning waves of aquamarine; frothy, foamy masses washing up with it to carry lone strands of seaweed. "otherwise i'd go mad without your company."

okay, that was lie. the truth is right there, practically spitting in his face how much of an idiot he is for trying to deny it, and dabi is glaring right back at it. he feels like an impatient kid on christmas eve, sneaking glimpses of gifts under the tree and feeling like he's committed a felony after getting caught. and you do catch him.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" there it is—that stupid nickname. it's always been laced with mirth when you call him as such, but now it's replaced by genuine curiosity. and is that a hit of concern he hears? you study him with pursed lips and stony features that gradually morphs into that of concern when the silence stretches on. dabi forces himself to sneer at you, and something stirs inside his chest when you don't flinch.

he hates it. he hates you.

dabi nods to the sky, a guarded noise building in the back of his throat as he tugs on his earlobe.

"s'gonna rain." your jaw visibly clenches, but you humor his evasive habits just like you always have, looking to the clouds, which have darkened considerably in the last hour or so. it's around this time that the weather patterns become more unpredictable, but you've noticed the distinct lack of rainfall in spite of the gathering storm brewing overhead. you could sit out here for a while longer without much activity in the sky, and it would take more than a little shower to drive you inside, especially when you finally had the chance to enjoy some quality time with dabi. you notice the way his shoulders droop and the tension from his facial muscles all but disappears when he sits amidst the smell of fresh salt water and unpolluted air—the weight of his past slowly but surely ebbing away. you'd like to hope you have some part in that. oh god, do you ever hope.

you plead to whatever omnipresent being above that he's not just here to hit a blunt without getting reprimanded for it, or that he's making these daily visits out of pity.

"nah. it's been like this for a little while—looks like a storm will hit, but then it passes before it even begins." you sling the guitar back over your shoulder and gather up your music sheets, eyeing dabi from your perch. you're challenging him now, and normally you would never dare force him to speak if he didn't want to, but something about his aura is off. you can sense it in his words; the very air he breathes; and it compels you to hold him close, if only he would let you.

"so, you gonna tell me why you're avoiding the ques—" a deep rumble interrupts you, and dabi lets out a sigh of relief that you're thankfully too distracted to hear. a single drop of water hits your nose, followed by another, and another, and—

"you were saying?"

"oh shut it." you don't get to finish speaking, for a crack of lightning strikes the far end of the beach, scattering sand in every direction. you just barely manage to scoop up your belongings before sliding from the rock, but your footing betrays you and send you stumbling to the ground. dabi is there to catch you, wasting no more time in hauling you to your feet and rushing you as carefully as possible through the jagged maze. he can't refrain from smiling when you splutter a string of profanities pass poorly hidden laughter, an unmistakable "FUCK ME!" spilling into the cold evening when you accidentally stub your toe on a particularly sharp stone. it's pouring within seconds, and no sooner do you reach the doorstep do you both realize how sopping wet you are.

the last thing you think of is your chattering teeth, however, when you see dabi's spiky tufts of hair dripping with residue and his electric blue eyes gazing into yours. what you do think is that for the first time in your painfully ordinary life; your twenty three years of mediocrity and progressive isolation from the world around you; you have found the single person who understands your struggles and has chosen—for some unfathomable reason—not to abandon you. you wish you could say your parents were the same, but you also have scars from a distant childhood that brought you to this place.

this old lighthouse is your home, yes, but dabi is your sanctuary. he might as well be a god by how often you worship him from afar, wondering if ever you'd be so lucky; so eternally blessed; as to call him yours.

you don't register that he's opened the door to let you both inside until a cozy warmth envelopes you. no, wait, that's dabi's fire. it should terrify you that the same man who threatened you with those flames is now at arms length, but you trust him not to hurt you in any way, and so you lean into the gentle licking of heat on your skin, humming in content as your shivering comes to a halt.

dabi's fear of burning you diminishes when you flash him a grateful smile, a whisper of thanks echoing across the walls and pummeling his heart without resistance. he averts his eyes with a curt nod, a feeling like molasses weighing down his tongue and drowning the words he wants to say.

"you're welcome." is all he can muster.

half an hour later, your guitar is drying by the hearth and the two of you are huddled on the window seat, nursing cups of coffee and watching the storm in a comfortable silence. you haven't blinked in a while, meaning you've wandered off the tracks of consciousness as suspected, and pretty soon, you start singing quietly to yourself; the deep crooning used as background noise to your aimless meditation. dabi nudges your calf with his foot and is rewarded with a brief quirk of your lips and a nudge back. he doesn't have the patience nor the brain power to decipher how long this goes on for, but it doesn't matter.

this is fine. the image of red hair and a tall, intimidating figure invades his train of thought, and dabi curls inwards on himself. this is fine.

but it's not.

trembling, he places his mug on the table before retracting back into his seat, clasping his hands together. he tries visualizing the ties of his life coming together to form a rope. the fingers on his left—memories from his past—linking together with those from his right—memories made with you. his palms connect, bringing instant relief with the knowledge that he's here now, practically nestled between your legs, out of harms way. you're both fine.

dabi takes the swelling anxiety and pretends to crush it within his fist; clenching and unclenching it until his peace of mind returns.

"penny for your thoughts, patch?" you ask again, still in somewhat of a trance. this time, dabi answers.

"why do you call me that?"

you're caught of guard, half expecting him to ask why you haven't turned him in to the authorities. you've seen him without his disguise, you know his name, and for the past eight months you've been socializing with him like normal human beings do. that's more than both of you could have said in the past. of all the burning questions, he chose that one? "i've heard 'patchwork' and 'staples' and just about everything in between. why shorten it to patch?"

you gape at him, opening your mouth, then closing it, and so on. the pitter patter of rain against the window has ascended into relentless pelting. it sounds like gunfire to dabi; assaulting his ears in floods; but to you, it's nothing more than a waterfall hindering your view of the ocean. the deep breath you take seems to put more suspense in the atmosphere than needed, and it makes dabi's heartrate quicken for an entirely different reason, yet he makes no sign of stopping you.

"because my first thought whenever i see you is how much you remind me of a doll." oh. what?

you can tell by dabi's reaction that that wasn't what he was expecting, so you gesture for him to wait. he isn't sure he likes the forlorn expression you're wearing.

"typically, when kids first get a doll, they treat it like glass and make sure to tend to it with love. other times, doll owners are reckless and tear them apart just to stitch them back together like nothing happened. you use that camouflaged to blend in with the public, and i'm lucky enough to see what's under it. . .but sometimes i wish you'd keep the mask on so i don't have to see you upset."

upset? a fizzing sound erupts from his palms that he struggles to put out. he's not upset.

"don't try to hide it. you're always scowling when you think i'm not looking, or when you forget i'm even here, and i know it's because someone broke you without the intent of fixing you up."

once more, red clouds dabi's vision, and he moves to stand up.

"you had to clean up after their mistakes because no one else would, but instead of reusing the bits and pieces of your old self, you burned them. you destroyed any and all evidence of who you used to be and now you're patching yourself together with parts that aren't your own, because you don't want to hold onto what happened. though, something tells me you still haven't let go, otherwise you wouldn't be so angry."

"you don't know that!" he snaps, but he knows it's not true.

your hand closes around his wrist, and dabi recoils with such strength that it yanks you from your seat. dabi doesn't want you to let go, no matter how much he thrashes in place, because the sensation of your skin on his grounds him. somehow you know this, and you give a comforting squeeze to his pulse.

"but that's not all i see. because dolls are beautiful, and it's the ones who still love them after they're broken that they need the most. no one's told you they think you're beautiful, have they?"

dabi shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze even when you cup his cheek with your free hand tilt it towards you. every touch is filled with hesitancy; feather light and more intimate than anything dabi has ever witnessed, let alone experienced personally. with the way you hold him like he's water in your hands, your eyes overflowing with a love he hasn't known in forever, dabi knows he won't find another feeling like it. you're not the embodiment of good—at least not by society's strict standards—but at least you can sit there and say you've committed a crime. you've never bloodied your hands by hurting others, much less gotten a thrill from doing so, and that's why he pulls away. he has to, because dabi is a harbinger of war, and if he holds you any closer it will only be to kill you.

he says something; a snarl mixed with a broken plea that he prays will make you stop; and you do. his silent victory doesn't last for long, though, because then you're using both hands to cradle his face and fuck, the pads of your thumbs grazing his scars feel like heaven. "won't you let me be the first?" how could he say no? how, when the taste of honey and whiskey is so addictive that he's already drooling into the kiss and willing to beg for more; when your mouth slots perfectly with his and dabi begins to wonder if he's stumbled right into the scene of a cliché wattpad story. the idea causes him to huff out a growl, and although neither of you can talk, he can imagine how strongly you must want to poke fun at him for the action. he can feel you smirking—the smug little bastard you are—and dabi ponders how long it will take to reduce that attitude of yours until you're submitting to him.

not yet. he chastises himself, completely unaware that you're currently thinking the same thing. dabi kneads the flesh of your hips through your jeans while you comb your fingers through his hair, gasping sharply between bruising, wet kisses and keening when he leans down to nurse your lips with soft pecks afterword. you're still trying to process the fact that you've coerced this devious criminal into making out with you in the pale glow of your seaside residence, but for the moment, you need not concern yourself with the details. you've forgotten all about dabi's ego and how this whole situation is no doubt feeding its flames. his grip on your waist is making you too delirious to care.

"fuck." dabi's breath is staggering when you finally pull back, an aura of clarity and desire hanging between the two of you.

"y-yeah. . .that was. . ." you can't produce a word, or even a paragraph to describe it. you know you're going to hit yourself later for admitting such a banal phrase in the midst of what could be classified as your very first kiss, but that is neither here nor there, and you would rather suffer an agonizing death than let dabi find out that he stole your first. you're too preoccupied envisioning all the other firsts to come, so you don't notice the way he stares at you like some precious jewel, but his fingertips brushing your bottom lip succeed in snapping you out of it.

"hm?"

dabi goes quiet, contemplating what to say as the thunder moves abroad and the rain comes to an end, leaving the house in a numbing state of tranquility.

"why not call me doll, then? it'd be easier."

you chuckle in response, playing with the hairs at the base of dabi's neck and making sure not to miss the way he melts into the affection. "i thought that'd be moving too fast." and dabi; still drugged from your kiss and what he can only hope is love; rasps out a genuine laugh, cupping your jaw with a tenderness that makes your knees weak.

"you offered to take a shower with me the night we met, and you think a nickname is moving too fast?"

you stick your tongue out at him, and dabi resists the urge to grab it, even if it's just a bluff.

"would you have let me call you that anyways?" you ask, something hopeful ridden in your tone. dabi feigns consideration as he looks to the ceiling, snickering when you smack his chest. eventually, he murmurs what you audibly hear as "brat" before resting his forehead on yours, an impish glint in his gaze.

"no."

you turn your chin up at him, giggling when he nips at the skin. dabi knows just as well that your attempts at escaping him are halfhearted, so he encircles his arms around your waist tighter, delighting in the flush that paints your cheeks.

"then i think i'll settle for my love, or darling, if that's alright with you."

dabi can't fend off the blush for his life, but he's not afraid if you acknowledge it. he can get you back easily, and he plans to. "fine by me, doll."

#⛓.dabi #dabi x male reader #dabi x reader #anime x male reader #mha x male reader #touya todoroki x male reader #my hero x reader #my hero x y/n #boku no hero x reader #x male reader #bnha x you #dabi fluff #dabi angst #dabi imagine

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syubub · 3 years

Text

What makes BTS most vulnerable

Woo! A reading! I wanted to do this bc its been on my list for a little while now!

I just got off work and wanted to do this asap! Pls forgive mistakes! I'm not gonna proof read bc im lazy.

Cheeky disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!!

So so so so

First off, I did each member and also one for the group! I didn't have a specific plan in mind when I started, so I just went with the flow!

Let's start with the group first

So. The 5 of pentacles is what makes them most vulnerable. This card talks about isolation, feeling lost, anxiety, not having money or influence. Most of all, a mindset of lack.

All of this to me makes me think that what makes them most vulnerable is the fear of being right back where they started. Feeling exiled from the industry, not having the funds to be sure of a stable future and also not having a strong sense of identity as a group and within the group. It's like their vulnerability comes from something almost like ptsd? Let me try to make that make more sense. I genuinely think that where they started and the uncertainty and constant ridicule really had an impact on them. The vulnerability they have as a group is essentially emotional distress? Like, I wish I had better words to explain. It's the fear that they haven't actually grown or gotten anywhere and that they are insignificant that is their vulnerability. Fear based on where they started?

I really hope that made sense. Moving on though, 7 of swords is how it manifests for them. This card is sneaky. It talks about getting away with something and betrayal but I think this meaning is the most relevant: strategic moves. So how their vulnerability manifests is that the fear that they have causes them (and the company) to make very specific moves to keep their fears from happening. It's like, they take steps to make sure their fears don't get realized. Career wise but also personally. They can sometimes force growth because they fear stagnation. Kinda like rolling something uphill? Once it loses momentum it starts rolling back down.

The other two cards, Wellness and busy times and multitasking, are what they can do to lessen that vulnerability. Keeping healthy in mind body and spirit (also keeping the group bond healthy too) as well as channeling their emotions and fears into productivity. (Think the ly:tear album)

Seokjin

This is really intresting. So, what makes him most vulnerable is repressed emotion that causes inner turmoil. The moon is all about your insides and the vastness it has. In its reverse it talks about the darker parts of your subconscious. So, him bottling shit up and repressing it becomes a monster that affects him without him even necessarily knowing.

As for how that manifest in his life, it literally affects his judgment. Like, literally. It messes with his decision making.

As a fellow human with a similar problem, I can almost bet that any issue he has with another member will be shoved away and it will fester until he's at his breaking point and he'll absolutely weaponize it but disguise it as "just poking fun" or he might also purposefully create low level chaos. It's really intresting because this could manifest in so many ways. It could be his insecurities, issues with other people, fears ect and they fester in his brain space fucking with his judgment.

What he can do to lessen this vulnerability is deep emotional healing. Istg these cards are too perfect to make up. He needs to do THE WORK and heal it. He probably recognizes this and is working on it. Its not fair to himself to put himself aside in order to put other people first. (I think this probably happened a lot in the early bts days bc he had to be an older brother and a responsible figure to 6 other kids so he prioritized group harmony over his own issues and emotions)

Yoongi

????

Um, okay. So what makes yoongi most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. That's the 10 of pentacles rev. But it gets interesting bc the 10 of swords isn't what makes him vulnerable but it also isn't how it manifests?? So here's my theory time. What makes him most vulnerable is the dark side of wealth. I can only assume that it's the isolation and internal conflict of benefiting off of a system that fucked you over in the first half of your life and also feeling bad for having wealth that most people can never imagine? I really don't know? But with the 10 of swords talking about betrayal and deep wounds, it could be that he's extremely afraid of being taken advantage of? Like, that's another downside of wealth. Maybe people have tried to use him for money or influence? Especially in his personal life. Like, he probably finds it extremely hard to get close to people because he's afraid of betrayal over something that is already hard for him to deal with?

Also loss. He wasn't born rich. He worked his ass off to get what he has and he's probably afraid to lose it. He might "stash" money?

Anyway, knight of swords, how it manifests. This card is about a drive to succeed. So essentially this makes him run and push himself hard and harder and harder to out run what he sees as an inevitable end? Sometimes this can blind him.

As for what he can do to lessen this vulnerability, we have, self confidence through God confidence. This card to me talks about having faith in your actions and skills and trusting in yourself even if you doubt your ability. Essentially, yoongi just needs to trust in himself to land on his feet no matter what happens. Life is always uncertain so he needs to trust that he can weather any storm he might face.

Hoseok

This was one gave me some thoughts. So, similar to jin, it's the bottling shit up and having you subconscious mind eventually figure shit out because it's been neglected but with the 2 of swords in reverse, talking about confusion and being indecisive, I think this kinda causes him to shut down? He might get apathetic. It's almost like when you work a computer so hard that it crashes.

And how this manifests for him with the 3 of pentacles in reverse is that he gets thrown out of alignment with the group. Kinda like how you shouldn't drive on a flat tire. He withdraws and becomes hard to reach and puts up a wall that causes a lot of problems for him as well as those he is around. It's a defense mechanism. It can also manifest in him preferring to work alone as well instead of group settings.

This exposes him to depression and doubt.

Also similar to jin, for how to lessen this vulnerability we have Bless your heart with talks about reaching out (breaking down that wall) and healing your heart and healing the root issue.

Namjoon

Okay. This is the one that makes so much sense but also confuses me.

So. What makes him most vulnerable is the magician rev and 10 of cups. Unrealized potential and poor planning as well as love, harmony and alignment.

So.... what? How does love and the happiest happiness make him vulnerable?

Well, I think he's suspicious of it. I think that he can't help but wonder in his big big big brain if THIS is the right happy or if its really happiness at all? Almost like commitment issues but also not? It's like, he's afraid that it won't last? He might have trouble fully allowing himself happiness. Also, what makes him the most vulnerable is love. It opens up every bit of his soul and puts it on a laundry line for everyone to see and I don't think he thinks he's worthy enough to be seen like that?

As for how it manifests in his life, 9 of cups, personal fulfillment and a strive to have everything else in hislife sorted out? Essentially wanting to have a perfect foundation so eventually he can share with all the important people in his life.

As for what he can do. Value your self worth. pretty straight up. He needs to value himself more. He deserve love and he deserves to feel seen even if it's uncomfortable at first.

Jimin

Oki. What makes jimin most vulnerable is choice. The 7 of cups talks about focusing on what's best for you and making choices based not on illusion. I think jimin is plagued by unrealistic expectations and confronting the fact that it's not possible is what makes him most vulnerable. He makes choices that are driven by illusion. Usually about self. I think specifically about how he doesn't always see how good he already is so he pushes himself to chase after something that isn't always right for him or even there in the first place. Acknowledging and facing it brings vulnerability that he doesn't always want to face. I think he might equate vulnerability to powerlessness.

How it manifests. 9 of wands rev. Paranoia and being defensive. It's his own fear and insecurities manifesting outside of himself.

As for what he can do, passion and purpose and multifaceted. Focus on what is close to his heart and don't get side tracked. Theres so much more to this situation and there isn't an easy fix. There's a lot of things that need working on in order for him to feel comfortable.

Taehyung

Oki oki oki. What makes Tae most vulnerable is strength rev. Raw emotion. He doesn't always express his emotions and when he chooses to be more open, his emotions go through a bit of a filter. Showing his unfiltered emotions makes him most vulnerable because it's him as he is. In his truest form. It's all of his wants, joys, fears. Everything.

As for how it manifests, 10 of wands and Hanged man, it becomes a burden that he carries because he feels like he can't just be honest. He pauses and allows himself time to feel on his own but that means possibly being misunderstood and a bit isolated.

Now. What can he do to lessen it? Bless your heart and healthy communication in relationships. TALKING TO PEOPLE AND ALLOWING HIMSELF THAT VULNERABILITY. It's not bad to be vulnerable. Heal that shit bb bc you are worth it.

Jungkook

So, what makes him most vulnerable? The world in rev. Not having closure and seeking it. The process of seeking closure for himself about things that could have or putting to rest something that has come full circle. It brings vulnerability because he has to face things that he could have done better. He has to face things coming to a close and be okay with is.

How it manifests, the tower, ace of cups, 5 of cups reversed.

The tower is essentially everything crumbling down. I think jk thinks too much? If you follow a ball of yarn all the way to the end then you just unraveled a whole ass ball of yarn.

Him going to close those things cause him to unravel his foundation.

With the ace of cups, creativity and love/ new emotions, I think him taking the time to pursue personal closure helps him to be more open to love as well as giving him creative fuel.

The 5 of cups rev. Means that him doing this closure thing helps him to forgive himself bc he's taking time to move on and tie up loose ends?

For jk this closure thing manifests in every aspect of his like and I almost see it as him shedding? Sounds weird but he's consciously moving on and paying attention to what he needs?

As for what he can do? Deep emotional healing! He runs the risk of feeling more of the tower manifestation so he needs to keep himself emotionally healthy in order for this to be productive instead of destructive!

~~~~~~~

I hope y'all like this! I feel like the cards didn't always follow what I was kinda going for with my questions but it all works out in the end I guess?

My next reading will be up later this week (I've already done it and taken all of my notes. I just have to type it all out) so look foward to that as well!

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inessencedevided · 4 years

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The Untamed, episode 39 - watching notes

How did this show manage to make me care for these characters in about one episode???

Xue Yang is 100 kinds of creepy

How does he disappear like that? That's a power we haven't seen on this show yet

This whole revenge plot is waaay too convoluted to be only about revenge

Ohoh ... this silence is too ominous

I love how A-Qing still has her rebellious streak, even in death

This is too easy ... he won't die just like this, right?

Holy shit his arm!! 😱😱😱

Um ... sorry but, it's really obvious that the actor just has his arm tugged under his clothes 😅

Whaaaaaaaat???

He's not the guy under the mask???

Who???

Who is that and why does he want the stygian tiger amulet???

I was so sure that that was him

Lan and Jin sword style? I'm wreaking my brain right now who has a strong connection to both, but I'm coming up empty

Oh no, a qing :'(

This is such a brilliant shot! Goosebumps! All over!

And wow

All the awards for song lan's actor 😥

I am ... fascinated by Xue Yang's backstory. Like ... the guy is a goddamn sociopath

With the parallels of his backstory to wwx it's almost like he's wwx without his good heart 😥

So ... all of this is a direct consequence of what happened when they met them in the flashback?

But this isn't how "human affairs" should go or even normally do! Obviously, xue Yang isn't a reliable narrator at all, but all I want to do is wrap Xiao Xingchen in my arms and tell him that not all his good faith in humanity was misplaced 💔

"Stupid, naive, dumb idiots like you, who think the world is a better place just because they did something good!"

But it is!!!! The world on it's own, without humans, isn't inherently good or evil! It is what it is. Good or evil, that's up to us! In the face of the endless indifference of the universe, every act of kindness tips the scale towards a better world!

(Sorry, my atheism is showing)

And that's why I will always have infinitely more respect for the Xiao Xingchens of the world than the cruel and bitter Xue Yangs.

Oh fuck no

No, this will break him, won't it? 😰

Oh no 😭😭😭😭

Oh no

Honey...

"Say something..."

Oh god

Does this show want to set some kind of record for must characters severely traumatised in 50 episodes???

Noooo

Fuck

When I wrote that I hadn't seen yet ...

He ... killed himself

I am crying so hard right now and I feel like I haven't even really processed the full tragedy of this arc yet

What is Xue Yang doing?

This is so weird. He honestly looks at Xiao Xingchen like he is a doting husband waiting for him to come home

Ohhh

And now it makes sense that he wanted wwx to restore his soul

And why his soul didn't want to be restored ... because he killed himself. He doesn't want to come back 😥

The way this looks ... that can't be an accident

So NOW he's grieving. Because he can't bring Xiao Xingchen back, can't control him. Xue Yang has such a screwed psychy, it's fascinating ... in a very disturbing way

Wow, he's damaged ...

Oh no ... the candy ... THE CANDY!!!

Holy shit ... what even am I supposed to feel right now? 😨😨😨

Trying to parse that out, I feel like (and this is just my first impressionof thus and my very raw thoughts)... Xiao Xingchen and his kindness they did touch Xue Yang. But he was ill-equipped to deal with whatever feelings they stirred in him, because he had already been so twisted by the world and his own actions. And so he expressed his love the same way he expressed everything: with obsession and the desire to posses and control.

Honestly, I need some more time to really process this ...

They buried A Qing 😭

Oh, Lan Jingyi. I didn't know you had it in you 💚💚💚

Oh god, the Juniors are ALL so soft! 😭

Oh god I want to know so badly. What did Lan Wangji want to say??? "Fortunately... this wasn't us" "Fortunately... you came back to me"? 😭

Omg ... this is a parallel right? From behind they might as well be song lan and Xiao Xingchen!

Oh song lan 💔

The way he takes the pouch 🥺

And Lan Wangji's look. Maybe I'm imagining too much into this but ... if that's not a man intimately aware of what he's going through

"Roam the world. Exorcise evil beings alongside Xingchen."

I can't guys, I'm crying so hard right now 💔💔💔

Holy shit Lan Wangji's actor's performance as he hands him the sword 😭😭😭

IT IS A PARALLEL! 😭😭

look at the screenshot up there again!!

I'm ugly crying so hard right now 😭😭😭

Gimme a moment ...

Tge music in the next scene is really unusual for this show, almost jarring after I've just bawled my eyes out

What is that?

An entrance?

Okay no, not an entrance

Who is that????

Aardgfdgh

The Juniors!!!

The scenery us so pretty :)

Waitwaitwait ... I have a suspicion... no ... nooooo? It can't be ...

The butterfly toy ...

And the comments in the last episode fit, too ... 😳😳😳

OH MY GOOOOOOOD!!!!

The shot of the little flying thing! That's in that restaurant, right??

The comment about remembering stuff from when you're three!

IS HE A YUAN????

@sweetlittlevampire IS HE A YUAN??? 😱😱😱

I'm crying again you guys

Of course he is! It all makes sense

And omg, lan Wangji with the bunny lantern 😭😭😭

And now wwx remembers A Yuan and... the LOOK!!! The song!!! The bunnies!!!

The smile 😭😭😭😭

"Let's buy it" "Okay"

They're a family, you guys!!!! They're a family and I'm ... so ... so emotional!!! 😭😭😭

So much softness between them!!! 💙🖤💙🖤

And wwx smiles as brightly as before this whole mess and ...

Holy shit this episode you guys!!!

First I cry out of sheer devastation and now I feel like my heart is ready to burst!

And it FITS!!!

wangxian got the happy ending Xiao Xingchen and song lan never did. They reunited and even though they spent many years apart they have a real chance now!!!

And this, their child, this is the pay off.

I'm listening to the new album by Nightwish (my favourite band) all the time right now and in their song "How's the heart?" Is this line "now there's one who came from me / A child of light, another tale" and I can't help but think of that right now! The whole song is about how it is worth it, going through the bleak times, fighting through your own darkness because there is light and love at the end of it. It's worth it to keep fighting, just so we can keep meeting others with love. And I can't help but think of little A Yuan/ Lan Sizuhi (and god, I'm almost bursting at the fact that I can write that line!!) As their manifestation of that love. Their "child of light" :')

And even with Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan ... there is this slight hopeful feeling of "we will meet again", if not in this life than in the next ...

Guys, I'm so emotional right now

Sorry for the tengant. It probably doesnt make much sense put in writing 💚

I'm so sad and so happy at the same time ... :')

Oh god, lan Wangji with the lantern is so unimaginably cute!!!

And they gave it to Lan Sizhui!!!

SYMBOLISM!! 😭😭😭

Now, this should be interesting

How much does lan Xichen even know at this point?

Ohhh! That was nie Mingjue in the coffin earlier!

Why is he buried in Yi City???

I'm so confused right now!

(But don't tell me the answers. As always, these are rhetorical questions ;))

Ohhh ...

I have a suspicion about the ghost faced man

And apparently I'm not the only one

He has been "discussing" things with you every single night. Aha 😏

Sorry, this is serious 😬

(This has nothing to do with anything but I paused the stream to type and this was the image I got. I thought i should share :D)

Lan Xichen is so deep in denial

Poor guy

And again with the parallels! There is another Lan who has stuck to someone with a bad reputation and he's standing right there

And jin ling is conveniently reminding us of that 😐

So much drama

OMG!

That was smooth!

No, I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

Just, "Wei-gongze" :D

"Don't take it to heart"

MY HEART!!!

I feel like Lan Wangji isn't the only Lan who will suffer an aneurysm from repressed emotions one day

@sweetlittlevampire @fandom-glazed @elenirlachlagos @allhailthedramallama @luckymoony @kyrrahbird @i-love-him-on-purpose and @sxnshot (should I tag you again next ep? No hard feelings if not 😊)

Honestly, this ep was the most emotional one for me so far in terms of the whiplash from pain and joy it gave me, though I certainly cried harder at the Yunmeng massacre. The prevailing emotion is joy now, though. I am such a sucker for mismatched, found families and wangxian and their child of light isn't exactly that, I don't know what is. I'm going to sleep with a smile on my face now. 💚

#sophie watches the untamed #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #xiao xingchen #song lan #wangxian #xue yang #lan sizhui #lan xichen #jin ling #lan jingyi #a qing

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