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#nothing is done from a genuine care for others or to ensure safety
warpweighted · 3 months
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I have so many feelings about luo bingge hes supposed to be the ultimate power fantasy clearly to the extent that even he does not recognize how fundamentally empty his life has become. he was very open-hearted until Shen Qingqiu pushed him into the Abyss, at which point he reforged his fundamental worldview into the same one Shen Qingqiu ascribes to, which is: there are two types of people in the world, those who get hurt and those who do the hurting (optional type 3: women and children who are mostly innocent of either, by virtue of having someone do and/or receive the hurt on their behalf), and the only way to move from the first category is to place yourself firmly in the second. he does, I think, try to make himself better than SQQ, by maintaining his position only by hurting people who have already done harm (for whatever his threshold of "harm" is), but he definitely does not reject the worldview. because that would require him to be vulnerable! and look where that fucking got him the last time he tried it! it got him in the Abyss is where it got him!
which does not leave room for things like "love" or "care", but does ensure that he is extremely secure in his position (power fantasy) and that he will always have people to do whatever he wants (power fantasy) and that he will have every single one of his physical needs taken care of (power fantasy) and that because he is the most powerful person in the entire world, he will never be hurt again (power fantasyyyyyyy). which, given the entirety of his childhood and young adulthood, is understandable! I dont think he's ever been able to dream something more for himself than "I'm warm and I have enough to eat and no one hurts me." I doubt he thinks there is anything more than that. from all possible angles he has more than achieved his wildest dreams. what could there possibly be to be unhappy about? If he's discontent, that's just because he's gone too long without a conquest (a conquest of what type? take your pick).
But he is never satisfied with what he has, and he has no one who will treat him as a person to be loved rather than a lord to be appeased. which is by design! someone who treats him like a person is someone who is close enough to hurt him, and as long as there is some new power to be grabbed there is some avenue by which he is not yet all powerful, and therefore some way in which he can still be hurt.
which means that meeting SY!SQQ shakes the very foundations of his worldview, because here is a Shizun who cared for him. Hurt him, yes - in most of the ways that his own SQQ hurt him - but cared for him nonetheless, and is currently trying his best to care for him entirely and hurt him not at all, and who expects the same of Luo Bingge Binghe. This world's SQQ rejected the premise that avoiding harm necessitates harming others, and this world's (weak! vulnerable!) LBH also rejected this premise and somehow managed to live by it? symbolized very blatantly by having somehow managed to hold on to his mother's guanyin pendant. and this LBH is satisfied, he's happy despite having almost nothing at all, only one spouse and not even a quarter of the treasures LBG has and he fucking shattered Xin Mo, he hasnt taken out hardly any powerful enemies and there are still people in the world who can hurt him and somehow he's the one who got the genuine security and the loving relationship even though he's done nothing at all to deserve it -
And confronting all of that is going to require he internalizes that he did not deserve what SQQ did to him, and that the relations of power he thinks of as an immutable foundation to the world are not only not inherent but are actually wrong, and that all the security and safety he has acquired over his lifetime will not be what actually makes him happy, and actually being happy requires taking on the risk that he will be hurt again. which has got to be terrifying to him, but theres no way he can un-pop that bubble and go back to not remembering how it feels to receive a loving touch.
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Take One
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TW: Smut. Language. Dom!Rudy. Mentions of masturbation and use of vibrator.
SUMMARY: Your enemies with Rudy, something you used to be able to handle until a specific scenes leaves you unable to hide your desire and needing to act…
WORD COUNT: 1500
REQUESTED!
*I DECIDED TO MAKE THIS INTO A SERIES OF IMAGINES DUE TO THE AMOUNT OF REQUESTS I GET FOR RUDY X ACTRESS READER. THAT WAY IF YOU SEND IN REQUESTS I CAN TRY TO INCORPORATE IT SOMEHOW INSTEAD OF HAVING A SHORT SERIES AND OTHER REQUESTS THAT COULD HAVE FIT NOW BEING SECONDARY. HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIRST IMAGINE! KEEP IN MIND I AM GOING TO LET THE REQUESTS COME IN FOR A BIT TO SEE IF I CAN PUT MORE THAN ONE TOGETHER OR EVEN USE IT FOR SOMETHING ELSE SO DON'T THINK I AM IGNORING YOUR REQUESTS IF YOU DON'T SEE THEM! XO* 
Take One
You hated him for every reason they loved him. Beginning from the sun bleached hair worsened beneath the grueling hours of filming beneath the sun. How you wanted to run your hands through it as it was moving between your thighs. Those blue eyes soft enough to feel safe yet dangerous enough to drown in when darkened by his own lust. How they trained on you through the scenes you filmed together as the lovers you were, a truth that couldn't be more different once the cameras stopped rolling. That devious smile always widening into dimples at your misfortune with lips full and tempting just as they could be quick to cruel remarks on your behalf. Lips you wanted on every inch of your body as he would leave nothing untouched. Not to mention his muscles and the natural way they contracted in every movement, clothes chosen in and out of character only accentuating this, as you were forced to bite your lip. His hands, ringed on occasion with a grip set in faux favor in the roles he played, your eyes wondering how they felt in genuine care around your throat or at your hips. But the true piece-de-resistance was that of the way he said your name. In torment, but also seducing each letter that made up the title. Yes, you hated Rudy Pankow for all the reasons they loved him, but that was because nobody could love him more than you... 
And it tormented you through the scenes you were set to play. A ‘pogue’ added in season three that stole his attention, and heart, much as he had done to you behind the screen of a camera. And yet, there were a million and one reasons you two would never work. 
For starters, you were ‘too young, too inexperienced, and too 'pure' for him’, words you had overheard him say to Chase when you had gone to his trailer to thank him for such a warm welcome after the first day of shooting. Not to mention the way he berated you on set and pushed scenes too far until you were taken off guard, thrown off kilter, and forced to restart the scene and appear unprofessional. And today would worsen that. A specific scene in which he had fought 'Rafe', leaving him bloodied and sweaty, before you would be rescued. And of all the scenes you had filmed, this one was the most strenuous. But not because you had to film in over a temperature one hundred degrees and climbing or being tossed onto a mat used for stunt doubles to ensure safety. It was because you wouldn't allow him the satisfaction in knowing the way he held you made you desperate for him. So much so that the second the scene officially wrapped, you were in your trailer to silence that need. 
But no function on your vibrator seemed high enough for how deep of a need you required a release. You played with angles and your fingers in depth as your mind flashed back to how he felt against you and the words used to tease you. It was enough to feel the beginning of a release as your legs began to tremble, but you would lose it when thinking of something cruel he had spoken afterwards. 
Suddenly the vibrator was forced harder against you as your eyes shot open. 
"I'm gonna help you come and then you're gonna tell me why you're so fucking uptight around me because then I'll know it won't be because of sex." Your hand quickly wrapped around his wrist, both hands clung in desperation as he would only smirk hovering over you. How he managed to sneak into your trailer without being heard made you frustrated and embarrassed but the pleasure he brought and the heat that existed as an accessory to this was too much to deny. 
"I know you're thinking of me, wishing it was me instead...isn't that right, sweetheart?" He set the setting to its highest point, forcing your toes to curl and your legs to tremble as they clamped closed. 
"No, I don't think so...I wanna see how desperate you are....Wider-" When you couldn't obey, he would force you to, kicking your legs apart as he used his leg as a stall in the center. 
"Look at you...if I would have known this was all it took to make you relaxed-" 
"Please!" You pleaded to him, not sure what it was you were asking for. A release? A reprieve? A retraction? Either way he only moved softer, slower, and with a steady pace that made your eyes roll. 
"How about I try without the little toy? Earn that little confession you're gonna tell me?" You gasped to the absence of the vibrations but the thrill of his fingers taking their place. 
"You need more than that, don't you?" You nodded, eyes targeting his own as he looked down to you with irises now shades darker from desire while he wrapped your hair in one hand and lowered to you. 
"Maybe if you were just a bit sweeter to me. Not giving me an attitude for whatever fucking reason makes you act like such a brat...I'd let you come on my tongue because God knows I could do that in seconds...but instead...you're gonna work for me. Gonna make ME come for having to walk in on you getting yourself off to thoughts of me. Without me." He guided you to your knees as your eyes widened to the size threatened by the line of his shorts. 
"Don't worry. You don't have to take all of me in your throat." You breathed a sigh of relief as you pulled him freely, a large and already dripping cock now at your disposal. A sudden grip tightening through your hair having forced you to face him however. 
"But you WILL take all of me when you make me come inside you." Your mouth parted in shock as he used it to guide himself inside. Perfect lips wrapping around him as you began slowly. The art of fellatio enacted by your lead, focusing on more than his tip or his shaft as you lowered to his balls. One at a time and then between, your tongue luxuriated against him as you felt him flex over you. 
"Get on top of me. Right now!" He ordered behind clenched teeth, pulling you into a straddle and sinking you onto his cock lubricated by your expert skill set. As you began a steady pace of bounces and a break of strides and friction allowed by vertical rocks, he took his hand to the back of your neck for stability. 
"Good luck explaining why you're unable to walk right when you get back to set." He scoffed, proud of himself for how he left you desperately wrapped around him. 
"Fuck!" He belted as you clenched. 
"How will YOU?" You rivaled as he smirked, rounding you onto the couch and setting you on your knees, the arm of the furniture being used as your secondary support of his hand at a rest between your neck and your shoulder. 
"And how about a red ass?" He questioned with a slap. "Maybe a hickey?" He inquired while lifting your neck beneath his kiss as you were taken to his chest. 
"You're already crying from my cock...but I can make you scream for too...then nobody will have to ask-" 
"Rudy, I'm so close!" 
"Oh, I know..." 
He slowed as you fucked harder into him, "You wanna make me come? Go ahead then...make us both come. Use that fucking attitude you've had against me and make. Me. Come." He ordered, his voice breaking in reaching a close climax as his grip to your breast and hip hardened as you bent forward, rushing against him with conviction. 
"Rudy!" 
"Fuck!" Your name echoed through his moans before you would feel his warmth shoot in broadcast and validation of having pleased him. 
"So tell me. Why the hell you've been treating me like shit since we met..." You hesitated while redressing. Unable to meet his eyes for even a second. 
"I'll make you come as many times as it takes until you tell me." 
"Because of that!" You spoke quickly as he moved to your sex, the ideas of overstimulation having terrified you as you were ready shaking. 
"Because I wanted that." 
"Well then, I shouldn't have to worry about your attitude again then should I? Not since I know you just needed that and now you know all you have to do is ask for it..." A teasing kiss, never committed, would ghost your lips before he returned to set and you were left shaking in the sudden altering of the relationship.
Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @bethoconnor @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection
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helsingvania · 3 months
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Looks around, no one is talking about ahsoka so I think it's a relevant time to be unhinged.
I'm not mad or upset with how ahsoka turned out, I'm disappointed.
I had low expectations going into it, we all did. But the first two episodes genuinely did drew me into the storyline. I don't care about ahsoka herself but the lore expansion, seeing the spectres again, and much of the overarching mystery just drew me in. Baylan and his more reserved, logical, and lawful nature. Even though it hate it, the myths around a new galaxy and the stories told by the Jedi and how it was just merely a fairytale tantalized me.
And this is where the show went down hill for me personally. It's a very you can't have your cake and eat it too, you can't have the grounded orders are orders storyline with the new Republic and the mystical fairytale story of traveling to a lost land to recover a hero banished with his enemy.
Both of them feel disjointed to me and if I had to choose one I would go for bringing whimsy back into star wars because I LOVE that stuff. There is a world where both elements can totally work, but based on the writing of the show alone it can only be one. And even without getting into characters, the Identity of this show is so confused. It doesn't want to know what it wants to be and will change scene to scene.
Is it a voyage into the unknown? Is it a traveling loner samurai story with a society that aged passed them? Is it a critique of bureaucracy and the failure of removing fascism? It's all of them, and yet none of them because none of them build on each other or even interact with each other. It's quite literally one scene its this theme, and the next is this theme. Neither them are expanded upon or even more forwards passed the 'this is bad' stage.
Hell Anakin's episode was only good because it only expanded a bit on Anakin, his relationship with ahsoka, and gaining a new prospective. It didn't do shit as far as meaning or anything. I think it was going for a: I didn't teach you to lay down and die. Type beat but it was so convoluted and filled with remember this from the show that it missed the fact it should've had a point. Like wow thanks filoni! You gave us solid evidence that Anakin will always be Vader and Vader will always be Anakin, and that both he and ahsoka were literally kids in war and he was trying to ensure her safety and life, and now the mortis arc has come back and reared it's head again and now he's chilling in the various realms of the force.
BUT IT LITERALLY DID NOTHING TO DIRECT FORWARDS THE SHOW OUTSIDE OF AHSOKA IS NOW BACK TO BEING A LITTLE SHIT AGAIN
How would I have done it? EASY!
A melancholic tale about realizing the world around you has shifted and coming to terms with everything that has happened to you. Between learning of what Anakin has become, the events of the rebellion and the clone wars, the fall of the Jedi and everything you thought you knew. Even realizing you have been doing nothing but walking forwards until you are finally dead.
Ahsoka acting more like Anakin as a coping mechanism since she couldn't do anything to help or save him. Running hither and yonder foolhardy and recklessly hoping that finally this fight will finally kill her. But they don't so she just continues on with her idea of what her duty is and what she's fighting for. Eventually, she does die and is met with Anakin, Anakin reinforces that he's always been like this and maybe don't take after him as much. And the lessons she taught her weren't just for survival, but doing what you did believe what was right despite the outcomes. This realization breathes new life into her (literally) and comes back and understands the fight all over again. And continuing her mission.
I don't think any of the spectres need much development compared to...the literal title character. Much of what they needed occurred back in rebels, Sabine owning up to her time in mandalore and making it right, Hera's own bravery and mourning Kanan. I still love the idea that Sabine is disaster lineage just so she can wield a lightsaber, but you didn't need to make her FORCE SENSITIVE HOLY SHIT. In fact I think Sabine being the more mature on here would've worked, yeah she acts young but she puts ahsoka in her place.
Baylan and Ezra were perfect. Ezra hasn't changed and still has his charisma and cheek while baylan is a very interesting villain based upon his past and motivations. I would've loved to have thrawn a little more subtle in place of his big introduction give the normies a FUCKING REASON TO FEAR HIM.
Final thing, you guys are cowards for not referencing heir to the empire.
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monsterqueers · 2 months
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You know, I can see why sometimes people think callouts are necessary;
When you are in a communal space and being harmed, or have suddenly become privy to serious harm, you want that harm to stop. One of the first things you learn on how to do that, once asking them to stop doesnt work, is to ask for help.
In small communities like forums or discord servers, you ask the community leaders for help. They talk to the person to make them stop or ban them from the small, non life-essential community. If the harm was bad enough they might encourage you to bring it to court (such as an adult soliciting nudes from minors in DMs).
Often this is done without the details being aired to the rest of the community (if the issue was in private).
But bigger websites like tumblr or twitter or youtube are not these kinds of small communities. Banning someone from a huge swath of the internet materially effects their livelyhood and ability to access community and care. The support staff for these websites usually take time to get to the case and often do nothing about it when they do because its not what they consider a TOS violation, even if its harm done.
This means if it cannot be solved by blocking, and you cannot leave because the space has things you need, your final tool to make harm stop is by airing the dirty laundry so social shame hopefully does something.
HOWEVER THE VAST MAJORITY CALLOUTS ARE NOT LIKE THIS
Most callouts are petty drivel attacking minorities (but especially trans women in particular) and filled with lies.
The person making the callout though, often genuinely believes that they are making harm stop like above though- because their definition of harm is much wider and includes things like 'trans woman having sex with consenting adults in a way I dont like', 'I was in conflict with my ex a lot because we could not communicate', and 'reblogged a fanart shipping naruto and sasuke once'.
They think that things that personally upset them out of disgust count as real harm. They think any conflict is always abuse.
Or at least, that is what the people making them will claim, and its hard to sort them from the true victims.
I think a notable part of why callouts are such a plague is because of the structure of social media as a whole. We dont HAVE the usual tools to curate our spaces well enough anymore and protect our communities from bad actors and people know this. Its the drawback of being so connected. They cannot see another way to do this, so they are loathe to let go of a tool that -in theory- can.
I think its something that is overlooked in conversations about this.
Its rare a plea to abandon callouts altogether has a feasable answer for 'what do we do with the confirmed serial abusers, scammers, and cult leaders that DO exist? How do we prevent them from hurting more people? They already had community support and love and they did harm with it. You cannot give them a rape babysitter a la the missing stair essay (of which the story shows works badly) over the internet. You cannot make them go to therapy over the internet and ensure it works. You cannot still act like nothing happened without making their victims feel unsafe and unsupported. What is there left to do?'
And honestly, I DONT have a good answer to assuage these concerns.
With new social media the way it is, with site moderators that only step in for TOS violations if that, how CAN we keep known serial bad actors with no true commitment to doing better from harming others except by warning people to not trust them?
Internet safety tip PSAs only do so much, and not using the megasites is not an option for most people either.
Trying to make callout posts be more accurate by trying to educate what is a calloutable offense has done nothing to reduce erroneous callouts.
People already commit to 'only spreading REAL callout posts', but they still spread bunk posts regardless.
It just... sucks all around.
-This post is not a perfectly worded and cited essay, do not treat it as such-
-This post is saying all the callouts crying wolf have ruined one of the few tools left to oust actual unrepentant serial abusers and scammers from communities without cop involvement, not that one should spread callout posts, dont clown!-
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direwombat · 1 year
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f;lakjfd tagged yesterday by @socially-awkward-skeleton​ for wip whenever. i didn’t have much to share yesterday, but i do today! i love it when i can get some writing done during my lunch break. the syb+joe fishing fic took the wheel and i gladly let it :3
anyway, tagging: @natesofrellis​, @thomrainer​, @funkypoacher​, @adelaidedrubman​, @strangefable​, @noetikat​, @strafethesesinners​, @aceghosts​, @confidentandgood​, @harmonyowl​, @schoute​, @purplehairsecretlair​, @sstewyhosseini​, @deputyash​, and anyone else wanting to share some of their wip(s)!
“I wasn’t aware that you fished, either.”
Sybille shrugs. “As a hobby, it’s new, I guess.”
“Under what other circumstances did you fish?” he asks.
She’s a little taken aback by the question. “Same circumstances most people throughout history fished. Survival.” Not in the literal sense, of course. She wasn’t taking the fish she caught home with her. The boat she worked on when she should have been in high school wasn’t that kind of operation. But they paid her money that kept the lights on and a roof over her family’s head while her mom was going through chemo. They wouldn’t have gotten by without that income. So…survival. 
Joseph hums thoughtfully. “You’re a provider,” he says. “A breadwinner. You hunt so others may live comfortably although you yourself suffer.”
She grits her teeth, the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickling and standing on end. “Is this an observation or a comparison?” she asks. 
He’s been doing this more, recently. Comparing her to his own older sibling, and she’s not sure whether he’s caught on to her and Jacob’s illicit little affair, or if he’s just gently trying to coerce her into sympathizing with him. With them. 
“You’re just like me, Jackrabbit,” Jacob had once laughed at her through a mouthful of blood. She’d had him pinned to the ground, and she’d nearly scratched his eyes from their sockets. But she’d maintained her control. She’s disciplined. She doesn’t allow her emotions to get the better of her. 
So, instead she leaned in close, grabbed him by the collar and hissed, “You and I are nothing alike. I’m nothing like you, and I never will be.” Then she’d taken his face between her hands and smashed the back of his skull against the ground, leaving him bloody and unconscious on the forest floor. 
She’d never been more fucking wrong in her life, but she’ll be damned if she ever admits it to anyone. Especially one of the Seeds. 
“Simply a statement,” Joseph answers. “You care deeply for the people in your charge. You go to great lengths to ensure their safety.”
“Not great enough, apparently,” she says bitterly and her gut twists itself into knots at how she’s still yet to find any trace of her brother, Augustine. Then, she realizes just how thoughtless her words were, and wishes nothing more than for a fish to bite at her lure so she can reel it in. Anything to avoid the questions she knows she’s just invited. 
“What makes you say that?” Joseph asks gently, and she can fucking hear the furrow of his brow. 
“None of your goddamn business,” she answers moodily. Her grip on her pole tightens. 
“You’re troubled by something.”
“Yeah,” she barks. “You. Your cult. Your fucking questions and how you’re acting like you’re my fuckin’ therapist.”
“So, I am two of the things that trouble you?” he asks, but there’s a playful lilt to his voice. 
The smile she gives him is wry at best. “So he can joke. I think I just lost a bet.” She probably owes Sharky ten bucks. “But yeah. I guess. You and your behavior. Which I suppose are two different things, but one controls the other, so I’ll count it as one.”
He looks…oddly amused. A faint smile ghosts his lips as he returns his attention to the water. “I believe I have just lost a bet, as well.”
There’s no denying that piques her interest. Joseph Seed makes bets? With whom? That wry smile turns into something a bit more genuine. “Ain’t it a sin to gamble?”
He still doesn’t look at her when he says, “I have never claimed to be without sin, Miss La Roux. Quite the opposite, actually.”
She scoffs and shakes her head, but then she looks at him curiously. “How do you do that?” she asks. 
Now he looks at her, cocking his head to the side. “Do what?”
“Whatever this is,” she says and gestures broadly to him with one hand. 
“I’m not sure I understand.”
She pauses for a moment, drawing her chapped lower lip between her teeth. “This whole humble and unassuming persona. You and I both know you’re a snake in the weeds. But, I mean…If I didn’t know who you were -- if I thought you were just some plain old fisherman and not --” she cuts herself off. Calling him the Return of Jim Jones probably isn’t the best idea at the moment. “You have that priestly quality that makes people want to tell you things, is what I’m sayin’.” 
She’s not sure whether she means that as a compliment. 
The more time she spends with him, the looser her tongue becomes. And it’s not just because of the faint perfume of Bliss that follows him the same way incense followed her old Catholic priests. There’s something about him. Something that makes her want to kneel in front of him and bare her soul for judgment. She doesn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, but if she’s not careful she might just confide in him with something she might regret. 
Hell, she’s already said too much.
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hellguarded-moved · 11 months
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≥ INCOMING TRANSMISSION FROM: @equos ( "SOURCE" );
classics. / ( consider. lues and/or lykos caring for ig's wounds. if you want! )
CLASSICS - muse a tends to muse b’s wounds with more care than necessary
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" i didn't want you to see me like this, " he chuckled, but the amused sound was quickly followed by a hiss of pain and discomfort. always putting on the strong front. at first, he'd tried to push the steed of conquest away— he was never good at letting others to take care of him. especially when there was blood involved.
it wasn't even that bad, he'd insist— a simple spray of bullets, nothing more. bullets that had simply just melted inside his body the moment they broke skin— it was more of an annoyance than genuine concern. as per usual he first tried to reason with his assailant ( 'don't do this / you know you can't win / lucius has sent you on a suicide mission' ) but they never listened. it saddened him, but at the end of the day, ensuring his his mates' safety was his primary concern.
it wasn't even that bad, he'd insist— despite one of the bullets hitting right through his collarbone, causing cracks to ripple along the markings covering his shoulder, and revealing the demonic beneath. just a hint— a little smudge of charred skin, the characteristic trio of spikes that normally sprouted from the spot. something that needed to be mended, he just... thought he could do it alone.
" i'm sorry i didn't tell you. but there's certain people that want me dead. i wanted to keep you away from it. you and lues, " gaze flickered to the horseman by he and lykos' side. words were strained as the other applied pressure to the bleeding spot. instinctively, he raised his own hand, and it came to rest over lykos' in worry. an attempt to push him away once more, but the stallion didn't relent— offering insistence of his own, that he'd see the injury patched up.
he knew what it was like to be in love. to be devoted to another so completely. one, he didn't want to endanger his friend— second, he didn't want to endanger his partner.
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" ... at least be careful. it burns. " silence followed. the hound was so unneccessarily tense, making for yet another obstacle for lykos to actually properly take care of the wound... but he was so gentle. careful in the way torn scraps of clothing were removed, already-scarred skin wrapped up in gauzes enchanted by none other than the horseman themselves— he'd learned, that this one didn't use their gifts to destroy. something weaved by such a timeless being, it was effective in dealing with the infernal's molten blood.
maybe that alone was the most jarring? that he could put his trust in another like so, to not have to worry about appearing weak or somehow incapable. wouldn't that be hypocritical of him, anyway, insinuating that the people he was protecting himself were incapable— when that was never true? it left much to self-reflect on, the thoughts distracting enough that beyond his own stubbornness, he stayed put, eyes falling closed. yet another sign of trust.
once the deed was done ( and with the care put into it, it hadn't even caused him to squirm one bit ) ruby hues fluttered open again, to be greeted by the visages of rider and steed alike, and the hound managed a fleeting smile, head bowing in his gratefulness. " thank you. really. " a further apology sat at the very tip of his tongue— sorry for making you worry, sorry for having to deal with this —but he'd managed to swallow it back.
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damistrolls · 1 year
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are you ever worried about wil getting involved in some dumb shit legally? 🤔 he doesn’t seem the type to be reckless about that stuff, but anything can happen at times, especially with how corrupt the system is and people will look for any excuse to screw someone over
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"I mean, I always worry a little bit about the people I care about getting in trouble. But Wil probably more than others."
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"Like, if Noboru gets in trouble, I can depend on the fact that it probably won't be with the Empire. He's smart. He understands how this world operates, and knows how to work within the provided system to ensure he keeps favor with the right people. His morals don't get in the way of doing what needs to be done to keep himself and the people around him safe.
But Wil is noble. And that is a terrible thing to be on Alternia. Being noble makes you stupid. It stops you from thinking about the consequences of your actions, because you're too caught up in doing the 'right' thing in the moment. I'm genuinely scared he's going to get in trouble, and that I'm not going to be able to do anything about it without tearing down everything I've worked for all these sweeps.
... And then the choice will come down to me. Do I be smart? Or do I be noble? What's more important, Wil's safety or mine? My lusus taught me never to put anyone else above myself and my own needs, but how could I ever justify doing nothing to help him?
I think Wil understands the consequences as they pertain to himself. I think he's fully willing to take obvious gambles on his own life in order to do what he believes is right. But I'm not so sure he fully understands the ramifications as they pertain to the other people in his life. Does he understand what Alternia demands of me, socially and politically? Does he understand that it matters who I'm associated with?"
The teal pauses, and lets out a small sigh.
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"... Yeah. I worry. I worry about the fact that he might get in trouble, and that I'd just have to just sit there from a distance and watch him self-immolate, lest he pull me into the flames too. He's brave and noble and all those other good things, but he's also stupid enough to go down with a burning ship. And for what? A point?
Ugh. I just have strong feelings on the matter, I guess."
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cotestuck · 2 years
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16. Wrath
(Warnings for a wide range of implied abuse and some gore.)
(Non explicit)
A docile little pacifist...
Between legal permission to exist dependent on being the property of someone blue or coolerblooded and viscerally feeling anything she could possibly inflict on someone else, Risori had not been aware of there having been any option other than that.
"Obey who ever owns you," her Grandmother had said, "and you will have the chance to be allowed to live."
Trying so hard to be the best match for the quadrantmates who had accepted her...
Mutants don't get to have descendants.
That was the entire mission statement behind culls: To avoid having an abomination mar an otherwise healthy gene pool.
That is what Risori was.
An abomination.
A stain on the gene pool that should not have come to be.
Should not still be alive.
But despite that, she was very much alive.
And free.
With full quadrants!
In and of itself, that was more than most trolls on the legal spectrum ever ended up achieving.
There could be no doubt of being indescribably lucky, and nothing was more important than just
not.
fucking.
this.
up.
You'll never get another chance for anything this good.
Don't fuck it up.
She'd go to hell for them.
She'd been already.
She'd go back as often as they needed her to, so they wouldn't have to.
Don't fuck this up...
You'll never get another chance.
She'd done so much harm and let so much slide, trying to be the best quadrantmate she could...
Her first moirail loved that she was bright, agile, and quick to pick up patterns. It ensured that she'd survive the next violent collapse of the pirate clown's sanity, and the clown would not break her favorite toy.
She won't show mercy if you can't out maneuver her.
She won't know your face.
Would she even notice you were gone after she'd eaten you..?
.............................
Her second moirail, another clown who'd hatched blind, was her first pail.
He vascillated through every quadrant with her, unable to settle on one, and demanded they fill a practice pail every light that rolled to help make up his mind.
He'd been so sweetly reassuring about everything leading up to that first time...
He'd even laid out boundaries he would never cross.
She could disengage at any time, for any reason she needed to. There would be no punishment.
He would never force or coerce or beg her, and her relief at how tangibly genuine that promise had felt like the weight of the world off her shoulders.
In practice, though, there was no way to decline that did not immediately result in a depression spiral that crushed her like being ground to paste under a millstone.
"Practice" was all she was intended to have been.
Settling finally, officially, on Red got her culled by the disapproving Church.
"Brrootherr, please! I oonly did what my Masterr asked!"
"Y'ain't no Sister 'a mine, y'disgustin' liddle vermin!"
There was no way of knowing how long it took to drag herself from that Corpsepile to The Cloverleaf.
…...................
But her new Master's welcome and the safety in which only a Brothel would allow a wounded slave to heal before being put back to work were not even the dubiously lucky break she'd gambled everything on them being.
That has been his sect of the Church.
The tone in which he reminisced to her was... wistfully conversational.
It began with an offhanded remark, while she sat nestled inescapably in the twelve foot tall sabertoothed giant's lap, tending to him, that he'd sereously considered finishing the job when she appeared.
And from there, cascaded into a sermon that waxed poetic about the capricious whimsy of the Messiahs being so perfect that even an abomination could be an instrumental vessel for that holiest of work.
Cute as a li'l button, sweet as cotton candy, so perfectly obedient that words weren't even required to direct you.
And his sect had been Blessed for their righteous care of a Brother in need by The Messiahs choosing to use him as the crucible by which you'd been purified and the mold that shaped your use.
His sweet, Good Girl~
Don't fuck this up.
Obey, and you will have the chance to be allowed to live.
"I've doone everrything they've asked me..."
........
The most important person in Risori's life had become that by being the first to treat her like a person.
A legal bronze with heroic dreams of rebellion.
Every time they crossed paths, she had to talk him down from trying to find a way to steal her.
Sweet as the thought was, there was no way in hell a bronze would be allowed to survive it if he got caught.
Best case scenario, the obviously unowned mutant would be collared again immediately, and the ballzy bronze workbeast with her.
"Please, Del, just goo back hive. I can't loose my oonly frriend..."
........
Perhaps it was the transferal that made it hard to see herself as a free troll, when it finally happened.
A moving mountain of a Blueblooded Knight in literally shining armor had not liked the way Risori's Master's hired handlers dealt with her.
Being Cerulean made the cull legal, and shifted the mutant's status frroom property to booty.
His genuine intent to free her didn't matter as long as she remained on the Churches cull list.
A literal knight in shining armor saved her from captivity, freeing her to walk unaccompanied by the collar he was willing to give her as camouflage.
He acted as her faithful guard dog and made her his Princess
Like a fairy tale...
A fantasy.
Kindly and considerately as he kept her, it was impossible to get away from feeling like an object.
A doll on a pedestal.
"Please stoop looooking at me like a damsel in distrress."
Don't fuck this up, you ungrateful little bitch!
Mutants don't get quadrantmates.
..….......
A lifetime of servitude made service by choice a love language, and there was nothing she would not have done for her quadrantmates and theirs.
Her kismesis had introduced himself by binding her in place with her own weapon, shredding the only clothing she had, and pailing her stupid.
That had... kinda been on both of them, though, and there was no denying it had been fun~
So was the introduction to his moirail.
Under the snark and aggression that got under her skin like an infestation of mites, he was intensely affectionate and could be so thoughtful it took her breath away.
Finding out that he made most of his income on video of his partners... by stumbling across one of hers... had been a shock.
But everything else was so good...
And he was supposed to hate her, right?
That's how this was supposed to go...
Don't fuck this up.
Mutants don't get quadrantmates.
.................
Moirailegance was fundamentally terrifying.
Not the idea of supporting another troll that way, in and of itself. Being so strongly Empathic made that easy to do without even thinking about it.
But if any quadrant could be considered a sacred one that you didn't mess around in, it was that one!
When every serious conversation with someone you care about even slightly sounds and feels like a feelings jam, their actual moirails can be forgiven for feeling envious and hurt.
Risori had thought that having her own to go to would make her very first friend's feel less threatened.
Being set up with his matesprit felt perfect.
They clicked immediately, and talking to her was such a blissful relief.
It was strange to feel taken care of.
Stranger still not to be called upon to take care of her moirail...
With no real point of reference for how that was supposed to go, she could only assume that those needs were met through taking care of her.
It wasn't until one of the horrors had come out through her moirail that the realization dawned.
Both of their unpleasant emotions were being fed to them...
But maintaining that relationship put the most important people in her life more at ease than it had unsettled her.
Don't fuck this up.
.................................
Shit!
Shit, shitshitshitshit!
You can NOT just start shit with fucking highbloods!!!
A nearly seven foot tall highblooded cannibal...
With a particular taste for mutants...
So emotionally dead that he felt like a vague cottony hollowness until he was upset.
THAT... was now one of her quadrantmates...
Because refereeing fights between him and her fucking idiot who could not stop himself from picking physical fights was the only compromise that wouldn't get him culled either by that cannibal highblood, or by the law for culling him.
That he favored a fucking NAILGUN!!! would have been NICE to know! Ahead of time!
He's going to die if you fuck this up!
....................
Of fucking course... the cannibal's curious moirail is a torturer who collects mutants.
Aaand a fucking Bellum...
Had she not acquiesced to go see him, he would most likely have sought her out.
And found her swarm of warmblooded quadrantmates.
Injuring him would give his beloved moirail not just an excuse, but a damn good reason to tear through everyone important to her like wet hygienic paper.
Welp!
Never gonna see the light of stars again!
Better settle the fuck on in for the long haul...
They're all going to die if you fuck this up.
.......................
That hero complex of his is going to get them both culled.
Even with the consequences for his tiny Ashen spelled out to him like a wriggler by the Matron who had raised them both, he still couldn't stop himself from mouthing off to her and their C.O. immediately after conscription.
It only cost her fangs and claws.
Claws, in her case, was no euphemism. They bedded in bone that bore her weight, with blood vessels and nerve endings along most of their length.
Although taking those and arrogantly forgetting how sharp her chisel-flat incisors were had immediately cost those two handlers their throats in a pain-maddened frenzy.
It took agonizing weeks to grow them back, during which she had to be carried everywhere.
Every time he left her sight, some painful consequence would follow for some failure on his part to mask.
Not that she was necessarily any safer with him in sight either.
Being overtaken by rage made him forget that bullets existed during a live exercise.
Both of them were hit, but the much smaller troll had nearly bled out before they made it back to their cell.
But the Sopor withdrawals were what finally broke her.
His inability to sleep without it made rest for her impossible.
Without that respite to recover in, the rage she kept siphoning the edges off of to keep him clear panned started to coat her ribs like tar.
And her own began to stick to it.
Don't fuck this up.
Everyone dies if you fuck this up.
Obey, and you might have a chance to live.
"When have I everr doone anything elsse?!"
"Wherre the fuck hass it gootten me?!"
"Wherre the fuck hass it gootten them?!"
Maintaining the moral high ground had only ever been a luxurious illusion covering a sopor laced glue trap.
How much more freely could she move unstuck from it?
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highseaskxng · 2 years
Text
His face made a rather pouty expression towards her, ha to think she’d call him stubborn too. Well insinuated that he is, whilst he thought he was rather level headed, granted when it came down to her safety he supposed he would do the most rash thing to ensure she winds up unscathe..then again he couldn't say the same now since she was hurt because he decided that it was better to be ‘careful’ than to be efficient. The man played with his food and it almost cost him the one person that’s made this strange world feel like a home.
A hand reaches forward, to hold it gently, he holds it much like he had the first time they’ve met. He was just a bold traveler that just couldn’t help but take a hold of her hand and bring her so close that he invaded her very personal space, he had done so again but not in a way to tease her this time, it was different in this moment as his eyes held genuine worry for her. “I’m fine, just fine thanks to you, our ‘friend’ is supposed to be just as fine but I was far too worried about you.” Tartaglia might have been a thorn in his side, but a thorn he would endure in order to have ensured Yuna was safe.
Then she asked about what had happened. Hmmm, he wanted to tell her..he really did but not here. The walls might still have ears, the last thing Sinbad wanted was for others to know that he could manipulate elements without the help of a vision. As much as he adored the spotlight, this was something he didn’t want because it would get in the way of him helping this world from the shadows. “Not here..when you’re discharged I’ll answer every question you have..but What I can say..it doesn’t change anything between us if you’ll still have me. I’ll admit that leaving had been the goal. For over five years I’ve traveled, studied, made a name for myself with the sole purpose of leaving.”
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He then paused as he gently brought her hand towards his heart. “Then I met you and it really threw my plans out the door the moment we became closer, I didn’t mean to lie to you..I wanted to tell you soo many days..but at least now you have a perspective of how I can publish soo many books in the span of a few months.” There he was making light of the situation again and even giving her a smile for good measure. But now that she was rested..kind of he figured a little demonstration wouldn’t hurt. The man gently sets aside his ‘electro vision’ upon her lap. Whilst it was quite the marvel, a convincing replica but in the end it was nothing but a lifeless husk of metal.
With the vision off his person he slowly took out his sword from his hilt, generating his own magoi into the blade to create a few crackles of lightning to surge around the steel’s mast before disappearing.
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continue from here / @saviata​
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tenthgrove · 3 years
Note
Yandere Bruno squad headcanons perhaps :0?
Yandere Team Buccelati
Content Warnings: Yandere behaviour, stalking, abduction
A/N: Apologies, but I've decided that I'm not really comfortable writing under 18s as yandere characters, so I'll just be doing Buccialati, Abbacchio and Mista for this one. Extra warning that this is really bad (I'm particularly not happy with Mista's section) because I wrote this late at night and didn't know what I was saying as I wrote it, so double apologies for that.
Bruno Buccelati
In spite of his occupation, Bruno has no qualms befriending the civilian population of Naples and doing good for them. He holds a profound pity for the victims of organised crime, and is eager to help where he can. So when you approach him on the street, asking for help with ridding yourself of a creepy stranger who had made it his business to follow and harass you, Bruno is quick to ensure your would-be stalker never looks your way again.
Although Bruno saw to it that you were escorted home safely, he can't help but feel some well-intentioned worry for your well-being over the coming days. He checks in on you again, which you find to be very sweet, but as the days pass by again his worry returns. Continuing to visit you would seem odd, he knows, but surely there's no harm in asking Narancia to check through your window once in a while?
At first it really is just concern for your safety, but after a while, Bruno is forced to accept that he is genuinely infatuated with you. His feelings are far too strong to simply sweep under the rug, and approaching you the normal way could put you in danger, provided it even works. He isn't going to kidnap you, that would leave him no better than the thugs he chases off of the streets, but to make you his he's going to resort to something unorthodox.
Bruno makes a few preparations. He does a few favours for your friends and family- gotta make sure they're on his side, He also checks his intel into the area's rival street gangs, since it can't hurt to have a hint of truth to the story he's going to tell. Then, armed with a few empty suitcases and a fake look of concern, he heads to your house late one night.
He announces to you that one of the rival gangs in the area has singled you out as a target for trafficking, and because of your previous interactions with him, they're dead set on taking you. Bruno assures you not to worry and helps you pack away your things, promising that you will be safe in his care while the issue with the gang is sorted out. You'll be staying in his house, of course. It's best he's right on call in case anyone tries to come after you.
Your new life in Bruno's house is a strange one. You cannot leave the house of course, except for the occasional short trip with him or his men to stop your mental health from suffering, but your internet access is unrestricted, you can call your family as much as you want, and you're allowed to buy anything you'd like with your money (or better, have him buy it for you). You have your own room, but Bruno often asks to come in and sit with you late at night. It's all for your comfort, of course.
After a couple of months, Bruno's excuses to keep you longer will start to run out as you start to wonder why he hasn't eliminated the street gang yet. The hope is that by this point, you would have already fallen for Bruno's charm and started to love him, but barring this, he'll simply buy more time by making up more reasons why it's unsafe for you to go home.
But, if all else fails, and you begin to insist on leaving... well, Bruno didn't want to do this, but he can't just let you go. You're locked in your room, windows barred as Bruno explains to you calmly that this is all for your own good. You can come out any time you want, Amore. All you have to do is promise to stay.
Leone Abbacchio
Despite his occasionally cold demeanour, Abbacchio is no stranger to the want for companionship and affection. In fact, it's fair to say he needs it, and that going so long without tenderness has left him empty, miserable and disillusioned. But it's only a matter of time before somebody reawakens his need for warmth.
Both of you were having a bad day. You were downtrodden and lamentful, and as sad people tend to do together, you shared your angsts together as you sat at the bus stop, neither of you caring that this was the first time you'd even seen each other.
Abbacchio does not want the conversation to end. So when the bus arrives, he gets a ticket to your stop instead, and sits with you, continuing to talk. He is sad when you say goodbye. He knows he needs to see you again. He thinks nothing of lingering to see which street you turn onto as you walk home.
Abbacchio gets to work right away. He needs to have you, but cannot see you ever falling for someone like him. Not through normal means instead. His thoughts turn to abduction, but the image of you begging and crying as he drags you to his car saddens him. He knows he could never hurt you that badly. He needs to find a half-way point, between force and natural love.
The first thing he does, once his mind is made up, is go to your boss. Using Passione's name, he quickly convinces them to fire you without any question as to why. It is a similar story with your landlord a few days later. Any friends or relatives who might take you in are also sent a warning phone-call.
You know full-well what has happened. You knew at the time your one-time companion on the bus was a mafioso, his story made that clear. You beat yourself up every minute for not avoiding him then and there. And now, as misfortune after misfortune strikes you, everyone who bears you bad news has the same white-haired stranger to speak of. When, on your first night on the streets, a tall figure approaches you from the black car, you do not feel any surprise.
Both you and Abbacchio know what he is here for, so he does not explain much. He sombrely instructs you to get in the car if you don't want to be stuck on the streets any longer, promising that he will not do you any harm if you comply. He has already struck out every other option for possibly helping yourself. You have little choice but to go with him.
You do not expect much when you arrive at Abbacchio's house, but instead you find all your old possessions lined up for you to decorate your room with. After quickly explaining where the bathroom is and which foods from the kitchen are free for taking, he goes to bed, advising that you do the same. You are completely, and utterly perplexed.
Abbacchio forces little conversation on you in the early weeks. Most of the time, he is out doing work, leaving you with free reign of his house. Soon, you do not feel at all as though you were forced to be here. You dare say your life is better here than it was before. Abbacchio's friends occasionally visit, making sure that Leone isn't mistreating you and you're fully happy here. Eventually, Abbacchio relents to letting you reopen communications with your friends. You cannot say you have anything to complain about.
The only question, is what Abbacchio ever wanted from you. It's so strange how he went to all these lengths to take you only to largely ignore you. The truth is, he's waiting for you to open up to him of your own free will. As he lies in bed alone at night, he dreams of you coming into his room, asking if he can hold you for a minute.
Mista
Guido Mista has dated a few times in the past, and he isn't interested in letting Passione stop him from continuing. It doesn't matter how you met him, just that after a few encounters you began to date, and were very happy with your new beau. You worked well together, what else is there to say?
But after your second date, Buccialati received word of your existence and was concerned. He isn't exactly going to force you to stop dating, Mista is an adult after all and can do as he pleases. But Buccelati wants to make sure you know what you're getting into.
Paying you a visit, Buccelati explains to you that your new boyfriend is involved with the mafia, and continuing to see him will involve certain risks. He is happy for you to take these risks, so long as you are aware of their existence. You thank him for him time, and immediately proceed to shut off all communication with Mista without explanation.
After a brief shouting match with Buccelati once Mista realises what he's done, he marches over to your house to plead with you to take him back. You stand your ground, that Mista lied to you and you refuse to be involved with criminals, but Mista isn't giving up.
The argument escalates. You slam the door in his face. Mista goes home and despairs. You were the best he's ever had, and now he's supposed to accept that you're just... gone?! No... all you need is a little more time. Mista turns right around and heads back to your house. This time, he isn't letting up for anything.
It goes much further than he intended. In a split-moment of instinct, Mista draws his gun and threatens you into letting him in. He really didn't mean to scare you like that, but his emotions are running high right now and he doesn't know how else to make you listen.
So, here you are now, a hostage in your own home, because your barely boyfriend couldn't let you go. In the ultimatum the two of you made after he threatened you, you ended up agreeing not to leave the house at all for the time since he was scared you'd try to run.
Mista doesn't stay with you all the time, but he visits you daily to bring you things and try to repair the relationship. To his credit, he hasn't threatened you at all since the initial incident and seems to regret it intently, but forgiving him is difficult after what he did.
Your commitments are mysteriously all taken care of, your boss inexplicably granting you a long period of furlough at full pay. Buccelati wasn't kidding when he said the group Mista was part of was powerful. You shudder to think of what else he could do.
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cheri-translates · 3 years
Text
Headcanon - Night before the wedding
Original title: 婚礼前夜
Original author: 君兮耶君兮
[ Victor ]
You’re tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. Seeing that you replied almost immediately to his text, Victor gives you a call. 
“Why aren’t you asleep? What if you feel drowsy tomorrow?”
You huff. “You’re doing the exact same thing!” 
He chuckles softly, and you can imagine him turning in bed. “But I won’t be tired tomorrow.”
You pout. Thinking about tomorrow, you feel a mixture of excitement and anxiousness. “Victor, I’m really nervous.”
“With me around, there’s nothing to be nervous about.” That’s right, Victor does everything with ease. “I guessed that someone wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I called to check up on you.”
“What if I oversleep tomorrow?”
“Someone will drop by to wake you up.”
“What if the wedding gown is too long and the heels too high, and I end up tripping on flat ground?”
“I’ll be beside you, so you won’t fall.”
“Victor...” You pause. “We’ll be happy, won’t we?”
You hear a resigned sigh at the other end of the line, and it’s incomparably patient. “Dummy. Since I had the patience to wait till you understood my feelings, of course I’m certain about making you happy.”
That’s right. There wasn’t anything to worry about to begin with. Victor’s words have the magical ability to make one feel at ease.
“In that case, goodnight, Victor.”
“Goodnight, Mrs Li.”
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[ Gavin ]
A figure shifts outside the window. You hug your blanket and grip the phone underneath the cushion, the screen displaying your emergency contact. With just a tap, Gavin will be called immediately.
There’s a tap at the glass window. 
Releasing a sigh of relief, you set down the phone, running barefoot to the balcony to open the door. “Gavin, it’s inauspicious to see each other now.”
“I missed you.” The straightforward words and insuppressible longing tugs at your heart, and you allow him to embrace you tightly.
You pat him on the back. “If you missed me, we could have done a video call.”
Gavin releases his hold on you. Seeing that you aren’t wearing shoes, he lifts you up and returns you back to the bed. “I just wanted to see you.”
Gavin’s always strangely stubborn in some areas.
“It’s going to be a hectic day tomorrow. Have a fuller meal in the morning, and don’t wear heels that are too high. You’ll get tired.” Seizing this opportunity to tell you things you should take note of, his conscientiousness makes you think that you’re talking to your mother.
“You’ve repeated that many times.” You turn your head, leaning your entire weight against him. “My dear Officer Gavin, there’s really no need to worry.”
“Cough...” Gavin nuzzles your face affectionately. “I’ll make a move then. Rest early.”
“Wait!” Just before he gets up, you tug on his wrist and pull him back onto the bed.
A gentle kiss lands on his slightly chilled lips. “Goodnight, Mr Bai.”
He lowers his head, breaths intertwining. “Goodnight, Mrs Bai.”
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[ Lucien ]
Even though you’re getting married, you’d simply be moving next door.
Since it’s early, you’re swaying on a small swing in the balcony. The French window next door opens, and you hear his voice. Lucien has the wedding schedule in his hand as he steps out. “I’ve checked the fresh flowers for the wedding - your favourite lilies and gardenias. They’re very pretty.”
“Since Professor Lucien checked them himself, I can rest easy.” When it comes to you, he’s always meticulous and ensures that everything goes smoothly. You’re more than happy to be a bride who leaves everything to her groom.
“You’re still calling me ‘Professor’? Isn’t it time to change the way you call me?” Lucien chuckles gently, subtle anticipation in his eyes.
“What’s the rush?” You snort, elongating your words. “My... Old Lu?”
Lucien smiles. “Playful.”
After having your fill of fun, you take the event schedule and flip through it carefully.
“There’s no need to worry about tomorrow. Leave everything to me.” Lucien tousles your hair.
“Mm, you’re my sense of security.” You grin, returning the event schedule to him.
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow.”
“Me too.” You grab the hand that’s on your head and grip it tightly. “Goodnight then, my husband~”
He pinches your cheek. “Goodnight, my wife.”
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[ Kiro ]
“Don’t worry, the guests will only be allowed in if their faces match the list, and the media personnel have been vetted thoroughly. Our wedding will definitely be safe.” At the other end of the line, you can imagine Kiro patting himself on the chest with confidence.
“Kiro, is it really a good idea to make the wedding as strict as an international meeting?” The last time you checked the wedding venue, Kiro was lugging a pile of high-tech gadgets, saying that he wanted to ensure the order and safety of the wedding.
“Of course. Tomorrow’s our special day. I want to share my happiness with everyone, so I can’t let anyone ruin our joy.” Kiro’s tone has an insuppressible joviality in it, and your lips curl upwards involuntarily.
“I’ll let you in on a secret. My bridesmaids wrote down several pages worth of difficult tasks. You have to be careful.” Just thinking about the group of ladies chatting and discussing methods to make things difficult for the groom, you laugh.
[Trivia] In traditional Chinese weddings, the groom has to fetch the bride from her home. To reach her, he has to go through“wedding door games”. This involves the bridesmaids giving the groom and his best men gruelling and difficult challenges e.g. drinking or eating something unpleasant
“No problem!” Kiro releases a ‘hmph’. “Don’t forget that Savin’s one of the best men. Don’t worry, his skin is thick and he can withstand punches!” 
Kiro continues. “If you don’t feel confident...”
“Using of Evol is prohibited!” You disperse his thoughts instantly, preventing his mischievous ideas from taking root. “Think of how to deal with them yourself. See you tomorrow, my superhero.”
“Okay then... see you tomorrow, my Mrs Chips.”
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[ Shaw ]
“I’ll make this clear - my wedding dress is really long, and we’re having an outdoor wedding. If it rains tomorrow, I’ll chop you into pieces when we get home!” You threaten fiercely.
Through the phone, Shaw responds with a “tch”. At a spot where you can’t see in the video call, he takes out the umbrella he had prepared to leave in the car.
“What if there are unforeseen events?” He takes a sip of cola. “I don’t control all the rain.”
“I’ve already checked the weather forecast - it’s going to be a clear day.” You rub your newly manicured nails. “Also, I don’t care if you aren’t the only one who can make it rain. I’ll consider it all your fault. So you best pray that it’d be a clear day tomorrow!”
“Hey! Why are you being so unreasonable?”
You arch your brows. “If you don’t like it, we could call off the wedding.”
“Who said I didn’t like it.” He responds instantly, as though genuinely afraid that you’d back out.
“Tch.” You mimic his tone, rolling your eyes.
“Remember to ask your bridesmaids to go easy on me tomorrow.” Shaw suddenly changes the topic. Even though his tone is casual, you can sense a hint of nervousness.
"What? You aren’t confident?”
“No way!” Shaw scratches his head, then says something before the hangs up.
“I just want to see you sooner.”
More translated and original works: here
-
[ Permission to translate ]
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君兮耶君兮: You can - just note the author
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asturlavi · 3 years
Text
oh boy, do i have wonderful beast oda/odazai info for you all since this may just be my favorite chapter in all of beast. it clarified a lot about oda's state in this au, and how sad it truly is, especially with all that dazai has done to ensure that oda's safety is certain
before i start, this was initially intended to be a quirky little twitter thread that’s supposed to be kicked off with a badly drawn doodle of something meme. the thread was supposed to be about how wonderfully dumb odasaku can be and how annoyingly frustrating dazai is in the latest beast chapter... and then it slowly devolved into a crudely written essay about small discoveries i’ve made that most likely haven’t been pointed out before, so i recommend that anyone interested in either oda or odazai to check this out 
so i finally got around to reading the new beast chapter and seeing how odasaku constantly devalues himself and finds that he's lesser than the average person is… sad. its been said that him and ranpo are the stars of the ada, every mission trivial with their cooperation, and yet he doesn't see any of that. thinks he struck luck when it came to his entrance exam, which he specifies that it wasn't as a result of his own skills. his inferiority complex is embedded so deep that despite his achievements, he doesn't at all believe he has any worth as a human.
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i'm just a tired, ordinary man like you could find anywhere. a third-rate detective, as unexceptional as a fallen cigarette butt on the road.
and his entrance exam was just like dazai's: the azure messenger case, which we all know wasn't at all a walk in the park. one mistake, and it would spell disaster for the city that the ada was trying to protect. no--not just the city, it would also mean the end of the ada as we know it. despite it all, he resolved it much to his own surprise, and it was all thanks to an "unexpected" gift. and that gift? who would it be other than from dazai himself? 
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beast light novel ch. 3
(also, this is a shaky claim at best but I feel as if oda fully holds the capabilities to solve the case alone, but dazai knew that with odasaku's persistent feelings of self-doubt, along with his lack of some of the vivacity that dazai held to weasel his way through to information, the outcome of success wouldn’t be guaranteed. and so, dazai lent him something to ensure his success)
and yet, oda is blind to see truly how much intellect and skill he possesses. he doesn't realize how integral he was to the quest of the azure messenger, doesn't acknowledge that without him these orphans would have either slipped into a life of crime, gone to a downtrodden orphanage, or simply passed away, and he doesn't know that despite it all, he's one of the purest characters in the story, even with the darkness that will forever cling to him, a reminder of the violence that marred his past.
not to mention that oda, in one way or another, effectively analyzed the current situation that they're stuck in. he noted that if things currently go the way they're going, no matter what akutagawa achieves, him and his sister are doomed. so, oda brilliantly decided to go after the port mafia itself to prepare for this possibility, and it's nothing short of genius. and dazai plays along with this… because it is oda, after all. 
and everything dazai did, everything he sacrificed, it was all for oda.
now to the underlying tragedy of this chapter. take a look at this panel: 
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ever since then, i've been making a living by solving requests that come to the detective agency.
i provide for the orphans
i drink coffee.
i gamble a bit on days off.
at night, i write a novel in the kitchen. 
that's my life.
nothing unusual, right? you'd think that odasaku was satisfied with life, since he has everything he had ever wished for. but in all actuality, he still lacks one important thing.
and that's friendship.
his words sounded so… empty. achieving ones dreams is but one aspect of life that brings one gratification, but doesn't necessarily mean it would guarantee lasting happiness. (think of famous actors or celebrities that spiral into depression even after they've achieved their dreams).
in that panel, he says he cares for the orphans, gambles, and writes alone in his spare time, but not a word of spending time with friends… something he had in the root universe, something that was lost to him in this one.
and he says this all with his face blacked out, as if he's somewhat implicitly dissatisfied (while the kid's faces are present, not at all concealed).
with dazai, he found peace in a place where peace is rare to find. They both completely put their guard down with each other around, and dazai can relax his overly speculative mind with oda. and they understood each other, a level of understanding rare to come by. dazai with his dark jokes easily flies past oda's ears because that's what they are, harmless jokes. and oda with his blunt honesty, which dazai cherishes and never prods him for it.
dazai also saw things in oda that oda was blind to. dazai saw a world of beauty in oda, the ray of light beneath a cloudy sky. he saw both intelligence and wisdom, kindness and generosity. and most of all, he trusted oda, despite dazai’s natural inclination to distrust.
and what oda saw in dazai was vulnerability. despite the front that dazai puts, he can be kind, even empathetic, when the situation calls for it. dazai once gave akutagawa a decision to turn his back against dazai’s offer to join the port mafia, when logic points to the fact that he didn't have to, but wanted to.
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dazai also consistently gives atsushi words of advice and shows understanding when dazai was under no obligation to, such as atsushi facing the loss of his previous caretaker. dazai gave atsushi genuine advice, not laced with any malice or ill intent. dazai had even left atsushi to grieve alone, fully understanding that atsushi needed to pour his emotions out in private. there’s more than enough instances of dazai showing this side of himself in both the light novels and manga, but it seems to sometimes be brushed aside. even though the main cast of characters always dismissed this side of dazai, oda has always known that this side of dazai was his truest self.
oda and dazai also talked endlessly about trivial things, calling each other daily for two hours for no reason other than that they each enjoy one another's company. it's pure, wholesome love. they had a mutual trust and understanding between one another, which ango, another friend of theirs, severely lacked in his friendship with them.
oda's dream was to write, gone unfulfilled in the root universe, but he died happily knowing that the one he cares for is living in the path of light. dazai's was to find a reason to live, which he found in oda, and continues to use this as motivation long after oda passed.
in beast, dazai's dream was cut short, ultimately leading to his demise at the end. after all, his one reason to live is now robbed from him. however, oda's dreams have become a reality, but can one really say he achieved happiness? he has the orphans, his children, but they will never understand him like dazai had. he has peace, but is it the form of peace he wanted? spending time alone, on things like gambling, while endlessly mulling how he has no one to spend this time with?
and writing, his one true wish that dazai made absolutely sure to make a reality. but was it worth it, at the cost of a friend who brought happiness and reprieve when everyone else failed to?
i thought of this tale as a matter of equivalent exchange, you lose one life in exchange for another. the scales do remain somewhat balanced, but not over a matter of lives. it's over a matter of personal sacrifices, ones only known to us readers.
and i say "somewhat" because in the root universe, dazai remembered oda when he was alive, so well that dazai can recall memories to near perfection. but oda had completely forgotten dazai in beast, chasing after absent memories and deluding himself into thinking his life is perfect, while numbing himself from the aching hole of loneliness that consumes him inside.
also, oda is surely happy spending time with the children, but what about his lonesome hours? who is he going to spend that time with, in a world without dazai, the only person who understood him and his oddities?
ah, and remember this moment in the root universe? 
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now, take a look at this again. no, look closer 
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odasaku wasn’t merely gambling for the sake of it, he was gambling on a horse race. and before dazai was arrested in the root universe, he was seen doing just that. 
now, why would odasaku do this? he surely doesn’t seem the type to gamble away his money on something as silly as horse races, because what does someone gain while they pour their money into something so senseless? 
and the only reason i could arrive to is that dazai must have dragged him along to one. dazai is a port mafia executive, with more money than he knows what to do with and a boatload of depression. money probably disinterests him as much as life does, and he used gambling to kill two birds with one stone: ridding of money he doesn’t need, and distracting him from his boredom (and depression). 
and it doesn’t end there. remember when dazai in dead apple had visited bar lupin to pay his regards to odasaku, while reliving a pleasant memory dazai had with him? and he did this because he was preparing for a quest that may result in with the loss of his life, psyching himself up for what’s to come. this is probably bordering on speculation, but i believe that that’s precisely what he did once again in the horse races. dazai paid a visit to a place that oda and him had frequented, to prepare for another dangerous quest. 
also, note that immediately after exiting bar lupin in dead apple, dazai was confronted by ango, which kicked off the start of dazai’s plans. a similar thing happens in the manga, dazai spending time in a place that he and oda had gone to, this time the horse races, and his plan whirls into motion as jono arrests him. i think these similarities are deliberate, in order to establish their significance to dazai and oda. 
this long winded explanation’s purpose was only for me to go back to this panel once again, and say that everything oda spoke about doing, from spending time with his kids, to brewing coffee, to betting on horse races, and to writing in the kitchen, were all moments he had with dazai. 
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and see that he has an extra chair that sits unused in the kitchen? at first, i thought it was there for the sake of being there. then, it slowly dawned on me that odasaku and dazai had noted in the dark era light novel that they made a habit of visiting each other, so it wouldn’t be illogical to conclude that it was a chair meant for dazai. a place where he can spend some private moments together with oda underneath the dimly lit kitchen, drinking in the scent of odasaku’s coffee and talking about things that distracts them from their troubles while odasaku whittles away at his manuscript. 
and one last thing before i end this out of sheer laziness, take a look at this photograph of oda from the final moments of the beast light novel.
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as oda stated in the manga and light novel, he worked on his manuscript alone in the kitchen... but in the photograph, he wasn’t alone. he’s posing for a picture. relaxed, poised, as if entertaining the one taking the photo. and besides, wasn’t it dazai who insisted on taking photographs in bar lupin with ango and oda in dark era? he must have done the same in that very moment in the beast universe, but this time in anticipation of oda forgetting him. 
in the end, it seems oda and dazai left each other in similar ways, foolishly believing they've sacrificed their lives for each other to better the other's life, but all they did was create worlds where the feeling of happiness will be lost to both respective parties, while also resigning each other to a life of loneliness.
they've forgotten about their one happiness that stems from just being around one another, listening to the soothing tune of jazz playing softly as they talk into the night, the world lost to them as they're absorbed in one another's presence.
it seems like their story is a tragedy of what happens when you love someone too much, to the point that you delude yourself into thinking you're but a tool for their happiness, and with you gone, nothing will change.
but things did change, didn't they?
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yandere-daydreams · 3 years
Text
Twelve Days of Christmas - Day Ten
Prompt: By The Fireplace.
Pairing: Yandere!Diavolo/Reader (Obey Me).
TW: Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Physical Abuse, Mentions of Self-Mutilation, Implied Non-Con, Slight Infantilization, and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms. 
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The fire’s always lit, in Diavolo’s chambers.
With the perpetual darkness of the Devildom and how little demons rely on sleep, there’s never a reason to put it out. Underneath miles of stone, in a world incased by cold rock and soil, warmth and light are a precious resources, ones even the Prince himself seems to hold dear. It’s burning when he wakes you up, already dressed and smiling by the time you relented the sudden chill of consciousness, and when you go to bed, sore and exhausted and too weak to push him away, it’s still there, an eerie constant you can’t quite bring yourself to appreciate. It grows dimmer, but it never goes out. It flares brighter than it should be able to with such little kindling, but it never runs out of fuel.
It shouldn’t bother you, but there’s little about the life Diavolo provides that doesn’t.
You thought it was an illusion, at the start of your captivity. It wouldn’t have been the first you’d seen Diavolo use, even if he wasn’t usually as fond of magic as his talent for it might suggest. He prefers more physical methods, shackles when you try to lash out, gags when you say something he doesn’t like, and chains on the few occasions you genuinely attempt to escape and get farther than the castle’s walls before he or Barbatos can drag you back. There’s never a punishment, but it might’ve been better if there was. That way, you’d be able to bleed out your anger, you’d be able to tell yourself not to fight back because fighting back would only make things worse. When he holds you in his arms, clicking his tongue and going on about how sweet he could be if you’d only behave, it’s hard to justify doing anything except ensuring yourself another night spent in that dark, dank dungeon and another faceless guard to trail after you, on the few occasions he’s feeling merciful enough to let you wander.
But, that didn’t eliminate the possibility. Boredom only fed your curiosity, gave you the time to search for things to prod the flames with, to find new ways of disrupting the few aspects of your life you were capable of impacting. Paper didn’t light, regardless of how many books you destroyed in your efforts, and there wasn’t a fire poker, an iron rod, nothing Diavolo thought you could’ve used to hurt yourself or him, not that you were naïve enough to try anything so blatant. Once, you might’ve let frustration get the best of you. It’d just been so tempting, and you’d been staving off the urge for weeks, at that point. It didn’t help that Diavolo was so determined not to let you get hurt, so adamant that anything his favorite human touched had to be soft and smooth and toothless. Part of you wanted it to hurt. Part of you was looking forward to the fact that it probably would. That part of you seemed to make itself rather scarce, though, when it actually did.
There’s a grate over the fireplace, now, and Diavolo still likes to dig his nails into the scar your curiosity saw fit to leave on your right hand, whenever you say you don’t need him.
You’d like to think it’s better, now that you know the hearth is real. You’re not free, and the awareness hasn’t done anything to help you escape your captor, but it’s nice to know the smoke isn’t just a figment of your imagination whenever it clouds the air, that the reason your vision’s clouding over and your eyes are tearing up might not just be because of the heavy hands around your neck, the sting of another puncture wound on your chest, the idle threats Diavolo likes to whisper when he’s in bad mood. 
It’s nice to know it’s real, but the smoke does get overwhelming, when you let it. It’s the most noticeable when he’s around, when you’re not allowed to retreat to all the little corners and hiding places that let you block out the constant heat, the soft, insufferable sounds of burning wood caving in and crumbling under its own weight. He enjoys being close to you. Some days, he’ll catch you by the wrist, insisting that you perch yourself on the corner of his desk as he reviews the needs of his kingdom, commenting on the input of his advisors or news from the Celestial Realm, never asking you to answer questions you can barely understand. On others, his approach is more transparent, and you’re pulled into his lap, made to run your fingers through his hair and comfort him, even if the soothing words he’s taught you to say taste bitter on your tongue. During times like that, the smoke’s almost suffocating, only getting more thick and more smothering every time he lets out a sound that isn’t utterly, entirely pleased. He’s said it before, that he’s doing this for your safety, not his happiness, but you know better than to believe him, by now. Even if he always makes sure to kiss over the bruises, when he’s done.
It’s the worst, when he’s like that. His fingers digging into your hips, the meat of your thigh, his lips on yours and his teeth embedded in your collarbone, his usual care nowhere to be seen. You can try to focus on the mural painted across his ceiling, on your own frantic heartbeat, on anything but the man in front of you, but the smoke makes it difficult, always finding a way to wrap around your lungs and tighten whenever you manage to forget it’s there. It’s hard to breath. It’s hard to do anything but suffocate until you’re light-headed and dizzy and Diavolo decides you’ve probably had enough, or you’re crying hard enough to make the decision for him. It gets better, after that. There’s usually a bath, enough steam to clear the air, and he lets you hide your face, laughing while you cling to him, too scared to let go. Usually, he’ll comment on the change in your demeanor, make a joke about how easily you crack with a little affection, but you try to hope he’ll be kind enough not to, next time.
The fire’s still burning, by the time he carries you to bed. It’s the only time you don’t mind it, that gentle glow, the way it makes it just a little harder to see Diavolo’s face as he tells you how easily humans are worn down by even a gentle touch. Sometimes he goes on and sometimes he doesn’t, but that’s always when you stop paying attention, fading into the crackling he treats like background noise. It’s comforting, but at the same time, it’s agonizing. It’s only hurt you, it’ll never do anything besides hurt you, but at the same time, you can’t imagine going without that discomfort.
You hate it. Of course you hate it. You need to hate it.
But, at the same time, you don’t know what you’d do if it ever burnt out.
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merakiui · 3 years
Note
SO!
Yandere Xingqiu
What if at the start it’s a genuinely healthy relationship? Like you have fun and it’s all cool.
But. Maybe somebody finds out your connection to the Feiyun Commerce Guild. Maybe somebody thinks you have a lot of money.
It doesn’t matter what their motivation is, all you know is that there’s a ransom sent to Xingqiu and you became a hostage.
When you are returned relatively unharmed but Xingqius behavior is drastically different.
“I saved you. I’m your knight. It’s just like the stories!”
“Your helpless. You need me. I can protect you.”
“Nobody can keep you safe. Nobody but me.”
We know he has the resources to send his beloved into a safe house ‘for their safety.’ We know he has an existing track record of dissappearing for weeks at a time.
I think out of the yanderes, he’d be one of the very few who are successful with keeping their beloved with them.
YES OMG!!! You never fail to write such amazing thoughts! I love this idea, so please allow me to add onto it.
Xinqiu is so nice and polite in the beginning of your relationship. He’s everything you could ever want in a partner: caring, considerate, and romantic. The two of you get along swimmingly and you’ve rarely had any major disagreements. The biggest bump in the road would probably come from some external force, such as the Fatui or greedy Treasure Hoarders. The idea of something happening to his beloved is a horrible thought and when that does happen Xingqiu doesn’t know what to think.
He’s devastated when he learns of your kidnapping, his nerves alight with worry and fear. You could be anywhere right now, hurt and alone. Xingqiu realizes this probably happened because of him; your captors did send for a hefty ransom so they must have known of his wealthy status. He’s going to ensure justice is properly served for those who took you as a hostage. 
He’s very smart when it comes to devising a last-minute plan. As great as it would be to enlist the help of others, he wants to be the only one to save you. After all, some of the wondrous heroes in the stories he’s read have worked alone. Surely he can do the same! In the process of saving you, Xingqiu realizes he quite likes playing the role of a charming hero who swoops in to save his beloved darling. Even though he has an unfair advantage with his Vision, he’d rather use it to make sure you’re returned to his arms without any injuries. It’s okay to use it because it’s all for you, so it’s not technically cheating!
After that entire situation is resolved, Xingqiu is slightly different. You don’t notice it at first because it comes in subtle waves, but little by little you’re able to notice the differences. At first, he advises you to stay by his side when you go out or if you’re going alone make sure you remain in crowded areas; and don’t be afraid to shout out if something startles you. You assume he’s just looking out for you after you were kidnapped, which makes sense because he loves you and doesn’t want anyone to hurt you again. But it doesn’t feel...right. He’s still your loving, caring boyfriend. So why does everything feel off?
Xingqiu seeks adventure in the similar fashion you do. The both of you love to explore together, so he’s very hesitant to let you do that by yourself or with friends. He wants you to have fun, but what if you get kidnapped again? He knows such paranoia is foolish after he taught those bad guys a lesson. Nevertheless, it gnaws at him endlessly. He starts wanting to be with you for every waking moment of the day to keep you protected.
When he disappears for many days on end, you begin to fret over his own safety and well-being. He’s smart enough to know not to do anything that would get him into serious trouble. He’s just being normal Xingqiu, right? That has to be it. Maybe he got inspired after he read a book and wants to try adapting to the main character’s lifestyle. Maybe...
You’re rather surprised when he asks for your opinion on safe houses and secret spaces that are far from dangerous glares and prying hands. You don’t even know what to say. It’s so sudden that it catches you off guard.
“It’s just a question. Don’t let it consume your thoughts so hungrily,” he tells you, smiling as his eyes skim a particular page in the novel he’s holding. “Would you be so kind as to sate my curiosity?”
“Uh... I guess they’re okay. They get the job done, right? I mean, that’s the whole point of a safe house. To keep people safe and secure.” Your answer is a mess and you feel like you should’ve articulated better, but Xingqiu just nods. He’s oddly...responsive. Normally you can never pry him from the world of fiction when he starts reading. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Just wondering. Is it that startling?”
“No?” He chuckles at your confused reply. “Okay, maybe it is a little startling. Why would you of all people need a safe house?”
“Oh, I don’t need anything of that magnitude. I’m perfectly content here.”
“Then...who needs one?” When he doesn’t respond, you heave a loud sigh. “Xingqiu, you’re making me confused! Did one of the characters in that book need a safe house? Is that why you’re suddenly so invested in them?”
After a few minutes, he looks up at you, fully concentrated. “Not exactly. I asked for your opinion on them, not mine.”
“Oh.” There’s some cryptic truth hidden in those words. You’re certain you’ll find it if you ponder long enough, but you really can’t be bothered. It doesn’t make any sense. “Well, let’s not talk about it. We don’t need one anyways.”
“Very well. If that is how you feel, we won’t discuss it any longer. Why don’t you sit beside me and we can read together? This part is quite enthralling.”
“Sure!” You’re smiling as you move beside him, resting your head upon his shoulder. “Let’s see...”
Yes, this is just your regular Xingqiu. Nothing is amiss in your relationship. Everything is completely fine. 
You’ve nothing to worry about.
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alaskasmonsters · 3 years
Text
No Strings to Hold us Down | Takami Keigo
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(spoilers for chapter 299 ahead!) 
requested by @waffleareniceandfluffy​: can I request a hawks x reader where yk how ehe in the car with best jeanist faked his death all that yeah and he says he’s free of his shackles can you do where they’re both free and they discuss his backstory (reader is childhood friend she knows about his abuse) and can you include any other thing chapter 299 with him as like can u make it hella angsty but with a little fluff and definitely a fluff ending.
part two
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pairing: takami keigo x fem!reader
w.c: 4.269
warnings: spoilers for ch. 299, some amount of angst (with happy ending), mentions of neglectful parents
a.n: so this took me a hot minute and i’m so sorry you had to wait for so long! it’s also like 4 k words and i don’t know how or when that happened i-... i hope it’s angsty enough and i hope you like it! please enjoy :) <3
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The silence hung thickly in the air of the freshly washed car, weighing heavily on you. A glance to the side told you that Keigo was still asleep, head propped up against the window.
He’d fallen asleep as soon as you’d taken off from the hospital, the only sign he was still alive was the even lifting and lowering of his chest.
You knew he was fine, Keigo was the most stubborn person you knew and as long as he hadn’t given up yet, there was nothing that could keep him from going on. Still, there was this little voice at the back of your head, barely an itch, that urged you to make sure just once more, if he was still alive, still breathing, still going.
He’d taken a lot of damage during his battle with Dabi. The villain hadn’t held back, hadn’t even hesitated when he’d burned his wings off, almost ruining the cells in his shoulder blades they were sprouting from beyond fixing, before he had moved on to his face and neck, leaving nasty burn marks behind wherever his hands had reached.
You remembered when you had stormed into his room, ignoring everyone who told you to take care of your own injured first, to take it slow, saying Keigo needed rest now, and you had first laid eyes on his battered form. The bandages covering his body, the absence of his wings, the peaceful look on his burned face as he was still sleeping soundly.
For a moment, a never ending moment, you had thought he was dead. You wouldn’t have known what to do then, when Keigo had actually left you behind, all alone in a big cold world, a world even colder without his silly jokes and genuine smiles. It had been awful, that feeling of dread, heavy and suffocating, that had taken a grip on your throat and squeezed.
Then the beeping of the vital signs monitor had reached your eyes, barely audible through the ringing of your ears and the loud beating of your eyes and you’d been able to breathe again.
Since then you hadn’t left Keigo’s side, even denied Best Jeanists help when he’d suggested to accompany the two of you. He’d wanted to drive, since you were still heavily injured, but you’d denied.
It felt too personal, visiting the house of Keigo’s mother, a woman you’d only met once before but had heard too many stories about, to not be by Keigo’s side when he had to face her after years of separation.
Luckily, Best Jeanist had realized this and instead agreed to meet you back at the hospital later, leaving Keigo and you alone on your ride to your destination.
Out of the corner of your eyes you saw your friend’s body stirring, straightening out of his hunched over position, his eyes blinking open tiredly before he seemed to recognize where he was.
“I’m sorry. I fell asleep,” the robotic voice of the translation app he was using, chimed through the car.
Another reminder of how close Dabi had gotten to him, you thought.
You glanced at him, your eyes falling on the muzzle he was wearing that prevented him from using his voice.
You smiled at him, hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel as you stopped at a red light.
“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re alright.”
You seemed to repeat yourself around him a lot since he’d woken up. “It’s okay.”, “I’m glad you’re alright.”, “How are you feeling?”. At this point you felt like a broken record. If he noticed, Keigo didn’t mention it.
“I’m glad that everything with Best Jeanist went smooth,” the voice chimed back.
You remembered when Keigo told you about it. The plan involved Best Jeanist. Before he’d even asked the man himself about it.  He probably hadn’t been allowed, the commission usually forbade any exchange of important information between the two of you, but Keigo never cared.
He had always told you anything, it’s been like that since forever.
The rest of the 40 minute ride was endured in silence. Keigo was looking out of the window, eyes unfocused, and you tried to focus your attention back on the street. The concerned voice was pushed to the back again.
You arrived soon after, parking the car in an empty spot and exiting the vehicle together with Keigo. The mansion at the end of the street caught your eyes immediately and you were once again impressed how much money the commission was willing to spend to keep their little pet obedient.
“Is that it?” you asked, covering your eyes against the blinding winter sun.
“Inside that house,” Keigo assured, passing you without giving you a second glance.
You let out a sigh, sensing his nervousness, maybe even fear to see his mother again. Locking the car, you followed after him, stomach churning with something you could only identify as dread.
When you arrived at the door Keigo rummaged around in his pockets before he pulled out a key card. He hesitated, grip tight around the little piece of plastic, before turning to you and typing a few words into his translation app.
“Before I fully recover and show my face again...you know there is something I need to be sure of.”
Maybe he felt like he had to explain himself, as if you didn’t already know exactly why he came all the way here to see his mom again after he hadn’t even bothered to keep in touch with her the last few years. His eyes were searching your face, hand on the handle and you gave him a soft nod.
“I know,” you replied quietly.
He opened the door wide and you entered the house.
It looked just as spacey and clean as the outside let suspect. The interior was beautifully put together, the furniture was expensive looking and excessive. It looked all very tidy and you knew that the way everything was decorated has probably been the work of interior designers.
Something about the fact that the place reminded you strangely of where Keigo was living stuck with you. His apartment was just as clean, just as nicely decorated by the hands of strangers, just as well put together.
How ironic.
The similarity of it. Mother and son both separated and still connected through the hands of the commission, the organisation the woman sold her son to.
It made you feel sick, no matter how much Keigo acted like it didn’t bother him, it just seemed to anger you twice as much.
How these people working for the Hero Public Safety Commission managed to make it appear all nice and clean from the outside, sweeping all the unpleasant details under the rug. They made Keigo the perfect hero, paid off his mother and ensured their comfort, ensured your comfort to him. Only to have the man in their debt.
The commission loved how close you and Keigo were, if only to use your friendship against you and use it to their advantage. Although it had only been him they had taken in, fixed up and trained for years, you were just as much controlled by them as he was. Due to your friendship.
They didn’t think of you as talented or as perfect as him. Hawks was charming, impressive, loved by the public, the number two hero! You weren’t even in the Top Twenty, your quirk wasn’t as flashy as most of Japan’s Top Heroes’ and you weren’t as loved by the public either.
You were only useful to them when it came to the dirty work, keeping Keigo in line that was (and you hated it hated it hated it), being the one responsible when he had to get punished after a mistake he made because it was on you when you didn’t pay enough attention, wasn’t it?
And only because the two of you had been childhood friends. Because you knew Keigo better than anybody else in this world, even himself. Keigo did have no issue sacrificing himself, burning himself out in the process if that meant he did a good job. You were the one who had to ensure he was at peak performance at all times.
Of course, being the commission, they had also used their sources (you didn’t believe it was Keigo who had told them, he would have never done as much) to uncover your awful past and find out about your family home just to use those things against you. As leverage. As if Keigo’s safety and wellbeing wasn’t motivation enough.
Your past was filled with pain and regrets.
Your mom, who’d left you with your dad after you were born and your dad who’d turned to alcohol and drugs to numb the pain.
The man had neglected everything. His health, his job, his life...you. So it had been your responsibility to keep the both of you afloat. You had started shoplifting when you were merely old enough to tell the difference between left and right. Everything you’d stolen, you’d taken to keep your dad and you alive.
The commission knew about this and liked to use it against you. It didn’t matter that you’d only been a child, old enough to know better for sure but too young to see any other possibilities for your hopeless situation.
You had met Keigo back then, too, when you’d been 7 and he’d been 8, after you had stolen from a small shop and accidentally caused havoc when you were caught and ran away, causing two cars to crash into each other when you’d crossed the street without looking, which forced one of them to swerve the other way so it wouldn’t hit you.
Keigo had found you hiding behind a group of trash cans in an alleyway crying, saying his feathers had tingled and that’s how he knew something had happened in the city. He had wanted you to return what you’ve stolen but when you had told him in tears about your situation and begged him not to tell anyone he had taken pity on you. Making a promise to not snitch on you if you were being more careful.
That’s how you’d become friends.
Although he’d gotten in trouble for leaving his house, beaten and screamed at by his paranoid piece of garbage of a father, who believed he’d tried to rat him out or something...That didn’t stop Keigo from seeing you again.
You would both sneak out in the middle of the night to see each other, meeting in forests and on playgrounds all around the town. He’d share food with you or bring you little things he’d managed to sneak from his dad’s newest gig.
Since that day in the dirty alleyway, Keigo had never stopped taking care of you. The both of you felt connected through your abusive fathers and (in Keigo's case emotionally) absent mothers. You both had scars you'd rather hide with everyone but never each other and you both felt lost, unable to be yourself in a home you didn't belong in.
You had realized, even at your young age, that you could never let him leave because you’d never find a person like him ever again.
So when the commission got involved, when they took him away, isolated him from his old environment, which involved you as well, your heart broke.
Although Keigo, sweet caring Keigo (who now had to go by Hawks. Commission’s orders.) still never entirely left you. He’d asked the commission for one more favor beside taking care of his mother and him. They had to ensure your safety, get you away from your father and into a better household.
You were the very first person he’s saved and although he tried to downplay it you knew he was proud of the fact that it held him together on days he didn’t feel much like a hero.
These days, it was rather often...
The house remained silent, the calls of the robotic voice for Keigo’s mother echoing through the big room.
No answer followed.
You looked around the room, noticing that what you had called clean before was really just the absence of everything that was supposed to tell someone that this mansion was inhabited. No dirty dishes, no books or newspapers lying around, not even a glass of water on the sink.
“Do you think she left overnight?” you asked, strolling around.
Keigo didn’t answer your question so you turned around to see him standing with his back to you, something clutched into his hand. Curious of what he had found you stepped up from behind him to look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of what looked like a letter addressed to Keigo.
From his mother.
“Did Dabi use people for this...? How did he even get this far...?”
You hummed softly, reaching up to grasp his shoulder tightly. Keigo had already suspected that it must have been his mother to tell Dabi or people Dabi sent about his real name and family background. Still you knew there was a little part of him that had hoped this not to be true.
Now, though, with the letter that his mom left behind in her abandoned home, there was no doubt about it.
His shoulders sacked and his body hunched over as he let out a deep sigh, barely audible through the muzzle.
“Guess it really was my mother that leaked it then,” for some reason even the robotic voice sounded heartbroken about the fact.
You reached up to card your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, or rather the part that wasn’t covered by bandages.
“I’m sorry, Kei,” you mumbled lowly.
He leaned into your touch and let out another deep sigh, the tiredness that had been edged into his features ever since he had woken up in the hospital bed seemed even more prominent now under the cold lights of the living room.
“When the name “Takami” had been taken from me, the relationship between my mother and i had finally disappeared. I had always thought i was fine with that,” he explained, the robotic voice breaking the silence again.
“What i thought of as being saved was just me turning my back on everything. Even on you, y/n.”
You looked up in surprise at his words, staring at the back of his bandaged head with furrowed brows.
“You’ve never turned your back on me, Keigo,” you assured him, giving his shoulder another squeeze.
How he could even think that he’d ever done as much was beyond confusing to you.
Keigo reached to put his hand on your hand, the skin warm against yours and the touch comforting. He tightened his grip ever so slightly.
“Yes I did,” the speech assistant continued, “After we’ve met again a few years back, I’ve run from you, kept my distance, because you represented what i wanted to be but couldn’t.”
After we met again a few years back.
You’d seen him in the news one day, when you were still training in hero school, and recognized him immediately as your childhood friend, even after all the years you’d been separated.
The huge red wings were a distinct tell.
You had run out of the Starbucks, leaving behind your freshly ordered drink to where you’d heard the incident had occurred. Out of breath and disheveled from all the running you’d gotten there just in time to reunite with Keigo for the first time in years.
Since then you’d never left him out of your sight again, too scared you’d end up losing him again.
Hearing Keigo say that he’d tried the complete opposite, keeping a distance to you because of what you’d represented, something he wanted to be but couldn’t...what did that even mean?
“A guy who helps people...”
Your hand felt cold when Keigo dropped his own again, letting it hang off to his side.
“That’s the only thing that’s returned. Actually it’s refreshing,” he continued.
The air around you felt heavy, suffocating, just like earlier in the car, just like when you’d stepped into his hospital room. Although now the reason for it was a completely different one.
“What do you mean?” you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper.
“The commission is currently at a stand still, y/n, in total dysfunction.”
You swallowed thickly at the reminder. The commission, the one thing haunting the both of you whenever you were with each other, the organization holding Keigo in an iron clasp and ensuring his obedience with your help...since the Jaku Hospital Raid, since Dabi exposed Endeavor and Hawks, the number 1 and number 2 heroes of Japan, they’d been silent.
Scarily so.
“There is no one to give me orders anymore. And they won’t be able to control you anymore either. I won’t let them.”
You took a step back away from the man when you noticed how violently he smashed the screen, his shoulders tense and the recovering wings under his jacket bulking.
“Keigo...” you tried weakly.
“They won’t get to abuse your kindness anymore, have you chained to me..”
You didn’t have to see the look in his face to know what emotion was displayed on it, neither did you have to hear his voice.
Your heart dropped at the words, at the bitterness he so desperately wanted to put into them but couldn’t because of his injured throat.
“Keigo,” you repeated, this time with more insistence.
“I know why you did it. You wanted to return the favor. I saved you, you save me,” the electronic voice sounded awfully smug all out of the sudden.
Your stomach twisted, a horrible hot sensation built in your chest and you had to clench your jaw to stop yourself from saying the first thing to come to mind.
Which would have been an insult.
You clenched your fists, pinned them to your side as you stared at Keigo’s back, your face twisted into an ugly expression.
“No, fuck that,” you spit, “how dare you?”
His face came into view when he turned half to look at you over his shoulder, eyebrows lifted in surprise at your outbreak.
You snarled, unable to contain the hurt as tears started to build behind your eyes.
You’d always been an emotional crier and you really hated it.
“It’s not about a favor. Don’t say shit like that.”
Hawks cocked his head, eyeing you for a moment before he fully turned towards you. His posture was more relaxed than before but there was a question behind his eyes.
He lowered his glance only to type in the next words...
“What? You care about me so much, sweetheart?”
You scoffed, wiping at your eyes in frustration.
“You know i do, stupid bird brain,” you said, still angry.
How could he even believe for a second that you endured the commission’s whining and yammering out of guilt. How could he not know how much you cared for him after all the years you’d been by his side now, after all the times you’d been there for him.
Keigo grasped your wrist, stopping your frantic wiping to push them away and make place for his own hands, thumbs softly brushing the wetness from your cheeks.
He found your eyes, his own wrinkling at the edges.
“No chains left,” the phone chimed.
You watched in anticipation as Keigo reached behind him, hands moving to his neck, and removed loosened the clasp, pulling the muzzle off.
Now you could see the smile, too.
“To shackle us down,” he told you with a hoarse voice.
“Kei,” you scolded him, looking down at the muzzle between his fingers.
You took a step towards him, closing the distance between you. Then you reached forward to gently run your fingers down his throat. The fabric of the bandages was rough against your fingers.
Hopefully he hadn’t started talking too soon.
“Y/n.”
You looked up at him and caught his eyes that were staring down at you with a determination you’d seen directed at you so often before, but couldn’t deny they had still the same effect on you as if it were the first time. Making your head all dizzy, that was.
“When we’re driven into corners, we find liberation. That’s when a true person’s nature rears its head. That’s why Bubaigawara was such a great guy,” he explained, gripping your wandering fingers into his hand, holding them close.
“At heart, he was desperate to be a help to others. I also want to be like that.”
You smiled up at him, squeezing his skin between yours.
“You’re already like that, Kei. You’ve always taken care of me, haven’t you?” you teased, hoping to ease the tension between the two of you a little.
“I think it was more the other way around, y/n.”
“I don’t-“
“Without you...i would have never known what it is like to have someone care for you. To have someone by your side no matter what. To understand...i think i would have never understood what it meant to love.”
You froze, staring up at Keigo with wide eyes. He tightened his grip around your hand, feeling that you wanted to draw back, instead keeping you close, thumb softly stroking the back of your hand as a way of calming you down.
“I think i love my mother, but that’s more out of obligation than anything,” he explained, searching your eyes but you couldn’t tell what he was looking for, “I never feel like i have to be anything than me when i’m with you. Nothing about being with you feels forced, or like it’s an obligation. It’s just...us.”
The room was spinning suddenly as you felt something cold wash over you. Your chest tightened, your heart daring jump out with every harsh beat against your ribcage.
He couldn’t be saying what he was saying...right?
He didn’t mean that. He couldn’t mean that.
“Keigo...are you saying you love me? As in...in love with me?” you wanted to laugh, just a little, to lighten the mood, but it got stuck in your throat on its way out.
Unlike you the man in front of you looked calm, not at all deterred by your panicked state.
“Yeah, I do. I think I have for a while now, but i didn’t fully realize until recently.”
Still gripping your hand in his left one he raised the other to your face, gently cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch instinctively.
A faint smile tugged at his lips at your action.
“It’s alright if you don’t return my feelings, but I think you do.”
You frowned in thought.
You’ve never thought of the man in front of you as anything else than just Keigo, the kind hearted boy whom you met in a dirty alleyway, the one that brought a little girl food and presents every now and then. The teenager who wrote letters once in a while to keep you up-to-date. The man who you spend your free days with, eating chicken and watching movies.
You meant it when you’d said you wouldn’t leave his side, not if you had any say in the matter. Now, you weren’t entirely sure what you meant with that.
Stay with him? Forever?
Maybe Keigo was right.
He was always able to read you better than anybody else, just like you were the one to know him best as well. That’s also why he noticed your inner turmoil just by looking at your screwed up face.
“May i kiss you?”
Your breath hitched, warmth spreading through your chest as your heart fluttered in your ribcage.
“Yeah.”
His lips were warm against yours, the touch soft and delicate. Like he was testing the waters, giving you the opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.
The feeling was foreign to you. You had kissed other people before, quick pecks, sloppy kisses, passionate making out...But this, this felt different to all of them.
He kissed you gently, carefully, holding you with a delicacy you weren’t used to.
Your heart pounded in your chest as your knees suddenly grew weak, hand reaching out to curl around the back of Keigo’s head, urging him even closer.
He pulled you in, accepting the closeness happily as he deepened the kiss. The taste of toothpaste invaded your mouth.
Your mind went blank, the only coherent thought you were able to grasp was that you were making out with Keigo...in his mom’s house.
How ironic.
Your lips tingled when the two of you parted again, the aftertaste of peppermint lingering on your tongue. The warmth in your chest had spread to your face and you weren’t sure if you were blushing out of embarrassment or glowing because wow...that was something.
Keigo was staring down at you with an undefinable look in his eyes, but he looked happy, content like this and it made something in your chest flutter softly.
You did that.
“I-“ you started but the wide grin spreading on your face against your will, growing despite your attempts to suppress it with a bite to your tongue, made your voice die with a squeak.
The man chuckled, the outline of his wings moving under the fabric of his jacket and the thought of Keigo ruffling his wings joyfully in response to your obvious happiness...you wanted to kiss him silly.
“I think i love you, too, Keigo.”
He might have been the happiest bird man in the whole entire world when you said those words and for a moment...just one small moment, you really felt like the two of you could be free.
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Taglist: @crystal-lilac​
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wandawxdow · 3 years
Text
Billy Russo A-Z Fluff
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A = Attractive, what do they find attractive about the other?
Other than the obvious (your body) Billy loves your eyes. He often finds himself in a trance when looking into them and is mesmerised by the love and adoration apparent when you look at him.
B = Baby, do they want a family? why/why not?
Billy does want a family in the future, and he wants it with you. Though absolutely terrified to have children, some of his fear is removed with the knowledge that you’ll be by his side. He knows that he wants to be better than either of his parents ever were so that his child has a better childhood than he had.
C = Cuddle, how do they cuddle?
Billy wouldn't openly express his love for cuddling, but he does love it when the two of you get the time. He always finds it comforting and calming when he wakes up and falls asleep with you in his arms.
D = Dates, what are dates with them like?
With both of you leading busy lives, most dates are at your shared apartment. But whether it be takeout after work, a romantic home-cooked meal or a movie marathon, the both of you cherish the time. When both of you have free time, Billy makes an effort to take you out for a proper meal at whatever new restaurant has opened.
E = Everything, you are my ____ (e.g my life, my world…)
Billy believes that you are his light. He’s been fighting his entire life and can get swept up in the violence, but you serve as a reminder of the good.
F = Feelings, when did they know they were falling in love?
Love is a foreign concept in Billy’s life; it hasn't been something he’s experienced or felt as much as he should've. And so, with his lack of knowledge, Billy didn't realise he was falling in love with you until he was already well on his way.
G = Gentle, are they gentle? If so, how?
Billy Russo and gentle are two words that are not often associated with each other. Billy is violence, seriousness and bloody fists yet he allows you to see a softer side. He does little things that matter: making sure you’re covered by the comforter, ensuring he’s there when your sick or stressed, and other things that help your day-to-day activities.
H = Hand/Hold, how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?
Billy doesn't hold hands when the two of you are at Anvil and surrounded by his employees. He doesn't mean to, but once in the building, he’s in work-mode with his serious, business persona. Other times he regularly holds your hand, particularly when the two of you are out in public. It's comforting that he has a grip on you so he can pull you to safety if something were to happen.
I = Impression, first impression/s
Billy first met you at a local bar. He’d been there to blow off some steam and you to drink away the bad day you’d had. He first saw and approached you when overhearing some man hitting on you despite your protests. Billy thought you looked beautiful in the red-illuminated lights with your curled hair and black jeans.
J = Joker, are they into pulling pranks?
Billy’s not big on pranks. Sure, the two of you will joke around, but you never plan elaborate pranks against each other. He’s done small things like hiding behind a door and scaring you as you walk past, but that's pretty much as far as it goes.
K = Kisses, how do they kiss?
Billy’s kisses are either slow and delicate or passionate and rough - there's no in-between. It all depends on his mood and the situation. If he's happy and content, then he peppers you with gentle kisses that express his love. If jealous, angry or filled with lust, his kisses are rough and passionate and often leads to other activities.
L = Little things, what little things do they love/notice?
Billy’s trained to notice small and often overlooked details about people, and so it's no surprise that he picks up on your quirks rather quickly. He noticed and loves how you prefer old movies when in a bad mood and how you hum under your breath when bored and happy.
M = Memory, their favorite moment together
Billy has many favourite memories with you, but if he were to choose one, it would be the morning after you first spent the night together. He woke to see your angelic face illuminated by the light shining through his bedroom windows. You'd both spent the morning in that bed together, admiring each other and talking.
N = Nickel, do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?
It's no secret that Billy is rich, and though he works hard for his money, he has no qualms about spending as much as it takes on you just to see you smile. He’ll spoil you every day, gifting you things you do and don't need because he believes you deserve it all. To him, he wouldn't be a good partner if he couldn't provide for you and spoil you.
O = Orange, what color reminds them of their other half
You remind Billy of the colour white. It's pure, innocent and untainted, just like you. To some the colour may been cold but to him, it's fresh and complete.
P = Petnames, what petnames do they use?
Billy’s preferred pet names for you are ‘love’ and ‘darling’. He uses them most when the two of you are alone and being domestic: “what do you want for dinner, love?” and “darling, stay in bed a little longer.”
Q = Questions, what are the questions they’re always asking?
Billy almost always queries why you're with him. You're so perfect, innocent and bright and he's dark, broken and violent. To him, you're way out of his league, and he could never truly deserve you.
R = Romance, how romantic are they? Cliche or creative?
Billy is a ladies man, and as such, knows how to woo someone. On date nights and especially anniversaries and birthdays, he pulls out all the stops to make the night memorable. To be honest, there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. Billy prefers to express his emotions in a more unique way than the cliche red roses and teddy bears. But if that was the sort of thing you liked, you can be certain he’d do it.
S = Sad, how do they cheer themselves/each other up
If Billy’s in a bad mood, all he needs is you. You can't fix whatever started his mood, but being there helps him clear his head and find a solution. If you're in a bad mood or sad, he knows cuddles and night spent together will help.
T = Talking, what do they love to talk about?
Billy loves to talk about your day - not because it's overly interesting, but because he loves to see you so passionate and happy. He also loves the conversations you have when you both wake and the playful banter after a long day at work.
U = Understanding, how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
Billy knows you well, really well. He’s good at picking up on details and accommodating to them in a relationship. Billy is empathetic with your experiences, however, sometimes not immediately. Sometimes he gets angry at first, vowing to hurt whoever hurt you back. But after he's calmed, he recognises that you need comfort like he has many times before.
V = Value, How important is the relationship to them?
Billy hasn't had many people in his life who love and care for him without strings attached. So, when he finds someone who does, it's important to him. He believes your relationship is one of the best things that ever has and will happen in his life.
W = Why, reasons why they love each other
Billy loves your nature; your forgiving, gentle and peaceful nature. It's a contrast to his and one he adores. He loves how you stop to pet any dog you're allowed to, how your nose scrunches when you yawn and how you look wearing one of his shirts in the morning.
X = Xylophone What’s their song?
Billy loves the song ‘Tiny Dancer’ by Elton John because it reminds him of you. Like in the song, the sight of you dancing and singing is always stuck in his mind.
Y = Yearning, how do they cope when they’re missing their partner?
Billy misses you from the moment you have to leave. At first, he throws himself into his work to attempt to mask your absence. However, as time passes, he grows irritable and on-edge; taking his feelings on others. When you return, the two of you spent some time together to make up for the distance then things go back to normal.
Z = Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
You're one of the only people who genuinely loves Billy for who he is. Because of this, he would do whatever it takes to preserve your relationship. He would kill any enemy that threatened you with ease, ditch all material items for the chance at a life with you, and ensure he's worthy of your love.
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