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itsshizyne · 2 years

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Baby Daddy Chronicles

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A Tomura Shigaraki parent Oneshot

You forced Tomura to spend some alone time with his year old son while you went out with a couple of friends for a girls night out. He realises how difficult parenthood can really be.

Inspired by @wornoutmouse

Word count: I have no idea but I’m pretty sure it’s a lot. Way more than I expected.

Warnings: None, just Papa Shiggy trying to figure out how to please and get along with his son.

This is targeted towards Black readers, but the reader insert is able to fit with anyone.

Key: b/n = baby’s name.

“It won’t stop staring at me.” He told you on the phone as he carefully watched his crawling child from the other side of the room. Chewing on one of his soft baby toys with his toothless gums as drool gathered around his small mouth.

You scoffed on the other side of the phone line. “It? Tomura that’s your son you know? And he literally just turned one last week. What is he supposed to do? Do cartwheels around the house?” You laughed, resulting in a groan from your baby daddy.

Tomura nearly jumped out of the grey sofa as his son began to slowly crawl towards him. He noticed the small, h/c haired, curly headed infant had one of his red shoes in his hands and quickly pulled it out of the child’s small fingers before he could start sucking on it. “He’s been doing the same thing for nearly an hour, it’s really creepy.”

“Welcome to parenthood. If you were around often, you’d see b/n does that all the time.” You sighed.

Shigaraki saw that the child was about to cry and pulled him up onto the sofa, his pinky fingers pointing away from the mini body as to assure that his quirk wouldn’t activate. “It’s not my fault I’m always at meetings, the league needs me y/n.”

“Well your son needs you more. You should’ve thought about all of that before and pulled out fast enough. Anyway, I’ve gotta go, have fun! I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” Before he could say anything you hung up, Shigaraki slumped his body down into the soft cushions as his child continued to stare at him with crimson eyes, just like his own, like he was some sort stranger.

This was the first time he’d ever been alone with his toddler. Ever since the kid was born, he had always left you to deal with the parent stuff while he was busy coming up with ideas to take down the corrupt hero society. Occasionally coming round with diapers, clothes, food, money and other things needed so you and his child were living comfortably.

It’s not like he didn’t want to be around his son, but it was more of a fear. He didn’t exactly have a good upbringing himself, he was new to all of this and thought he wasn’t good enough to be a father or he wasn’t prepared to take on such responsibilities of caring for a small infant.

Although you constantly reassured him that it was all going to be okay, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to show love to the child. And that he would probably grow up resenting his father, or worse…end up just like him.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his son crawl out of his arms and land bottom first onto the wooden floor, he tried to pick him back up when the child began to fidget and whine beneath him.

“Oh come on little guy, can’t you see I’m trying to make sure you don’t get yourself into trouble.” The baby smacked his muscular arm and began to crawl back to his original space, picking up one of those small All Might action figures you brought for him out of spite and smack it head first against the floor.

Shigaraki chuckled and scooted towards his son on the floor, attempting to take the toy out of his hand before being met with a small palm against his soft cheek. “Alright! I’ll leave you to keep destroying your little figure. I guess we have at least one thing in common hm?”

A gentle, warming smile appeared on Tomura’s face as the toddler began to loudly giggle, grinning wide with soft gums in amusement while he smashed the figure’s head on the floor with even more force. His father’s heart warmed at the sight of this, not only did his son also hate all might for some reason, but he found joy in destroying things to make him happy.

You would be pissed if you saw Shigaraki finding amusement in shamelessly entertaining the child’s activities, but you weren’t here. To your baby daddy, it was just him and his sons little secret.

However, his smile was quickly faded when the baby began to loudly cry. On normal occasions, he’d just step back and wait for you to deal with your son while he made his way to the balcony due to the fact he hated such noises.

But unfortunately this wasn’t the case. Tomura would have to man up, and deal with whatever was troubling his son like a responsible parent.

Only…he couldn’t think of anything.

You fed him before you went out. And made sure you had stocks of perpetrated milk in the fridge in case he got hungry, and his favourite show that made Tomura rip out strands of his white hair from the annoying rhymes was on the television at normal volume, so what could possibly be causing his son such agitation?

It was only until Shigaraki picked up his boy and was met with a strong, putrid smell from the boy’s diaper that he finally knew. And he wasn’t looking forward to solving the unfortunate problem.

~~~~~~~~

Holding the boy with eight fingers, the older male quickly rushed to his room and placed him on the changing mat. Tomura wasn’t exactly a fan of changing nappies, he always left it for you to do. He didn’t even know what way to put a nappy on a child, both sides were to insure that the baby waste didn’t spread anywhere else so why did he have to care what side he put it on?

After stripping the baby and realising he was completely lost on what to do next, there was only one person he knew could call at this time of the evening. Small coos and groans could be heard from the small boy as he held one foot high in the air with the other in his mouth.

“Look, cut me some slack okay? Your mother usually does this type of stuff.” He told the child as he began to call Dabi. He was the eldest out of his siblings, so he definitely knew how to change a diaper right? He must have the experience.

After almost two minutes of constant transfers to voicemail, the black haired male finally picked up his phone with a loud irritated groan. “What the fuck do you want? I’m sort of in the middle of something here.”

Tomura didn’t ask or even want to know what his partner was in the middle of, when dealing with such a lazy manwhore like Dabi, who knows what he’s up to most of the time. “Do you know how to change a diaper? The kid took a dump and y/n usually deals with stuff like this.”

Shigaraki was met with a huge guffaw of laughter from Dabi after explaining his current, serious situation and started to get annoyed. This was no laughing matter. “What? Seriously? Please tell me you’re joking boss, you don’t know how to change a diaper? Have you been living under a rock or something?”

“Just shut your mouth and tell me how to do this shit, I don’t have time for your jokes.” Tomura rasped, scratching his neck in frustration as his associate continued to mock him. “Fine alright I’ll help, this is why b/n can always count on his uncle Dabi.”

Shigaraki suddenly quirked an eyebrow and screwed his face. “Wait. Who said you’re his uncle? Cause I sure as hell didn’t.”

“Um, your baby momma. I was literally the first person to go to the hospital and see the kid, I’m practically his certified god father. Put some respect on my name Shiggy.” Dabi clapped back, sounding quite offended.

“Whatever, just tell me how to change this thing. I swear this parent thing is starting to get on my last nerves.” He complained, rubbing the side of his head and letting out a heavy sigh.

“Should’ve pulled out.”

“For fuck sak- JUST TELL ME HOW TO DO IT ALREADY!” He yelled, startling the baby and resulting in a small cry. His father quickly pulled out one of his soft chew toys and put it in his hand, calming the little boy down.

“Alright relax. So the first thing you’re gonna wanna do is take off the diaper, remove those little sticky bits.” Dabi begun to explain, Tomura put the phone on loud speaker and set it by b/n’s little head. He removed the tape from the front of the diaper and pulled the front down.

Being met with a strong stench, he put that front of his hoodie over his nose in attempt to block out the smell. “Yeah I did that, what next?”

“Pick up a few baby wipes and clean him and his mess up, and I mean CLEAN him, he might get a rash of you don’t. and make sure you do it from top to bottom.” Dabi spoke in a serious tone. Tomura nodded and began to wipe all of the poop away, he started to get a hang of it after a few swipes and smiled at his new accomplishment.

He was finally getting this whole dad thing under control, it was one of his great successes next to that one time he and the LOV fought the entire liberation front with hardly any sleep.

He was quite proud of himself. “Yeah I cleaned him up, next ashtray?”

“Clean him more, make sure there’s nothing there. Then you’re gonna have to put the wipes in the dirty diaper and wrap it up.” Tomura gave b/n a final wipe down with a warm wet, rag and placed the used wipes into the dirty nappy, using the sticky sides to hold everything in place when he wrapped it up and threw it in a plastic bag.

He didn’t notice his son slowly crawling away naked with the phone until he glanced back, he scooped the child up with one hand and placed him back onto the mat. “I haven’t finished just yet, stay here. You can hold the phone for me alright.” He giggled and tapped b/n’s button nose before resuming. “So what should I do after that?”

“Well you put a fresh diaper back on the kid and put his clothes back on.” Dabi lazily responded, Shigaraki picked up the diaper and was met with confusion as he tried to figure out what side went where. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate for me, I don’t know how to put it on.”

“There’s absolutely no way that you’re being serious right now… where are you when y/n does this?” The male on the other side of the phone slapped and shook his head in huge disappointment. What kind of father doesn’t know how to put on a diaper? “I have better things to do than deal with dirty diapers. You, of all people should know this.”

“And I thought y/n having a kid would change you, jeez you’re so cold boss.” Dabi said subtly, not knowing his words would land a critical hit on Tomura’s heart.

“I know I haven’t been father of the year, but I’m trying change that. So how do you do it?” He mumbled with a click of his tongue, feeling quite guilty at the fact that Dabi was right. Of course he’d been there to provide for his little boy, but when it got to important moments like this, he was always quick to run away and avoid catering to his son’s needs at all costs.

A simple job for you, yet a complete and utter hassle for him was an eye opener that he needed to have a change of attitude towards b/n.

“The side with the sticky part goes at the back and the soft side goes at the front.” Dabi answered and yawned into the mic, his hot breath blowing loudly through the phone with a static like sound causing Tomura’s son to shake the phone out of innocent curiosity.

After a few long and complicated seconds that felt like an eternity, Shigaraki was able to successfully put b/n into a fresh diaper. He put on a fresh pair of purple space pyjamas onto the little boy and hoisted him over his shoulder.

“Aye well done boss, you aren’t just a deadbeat father after all!” Dabi playfully clapped his hands together and jokingly cheered for his boss, successfully earning a long eye roll from the annoyed male who sucked his teeth.

“I was never a deadbeat, respect me.” Tomura frowned.

“Well Now you’re done, I’m gonna go back to doing what I was doing. Give my nephew a little kiss on the forehead from his favourite uncle okay?”

“Oh fuck right off.” Tomura grinned, patting b/n on the back as he him bounced around. “Fine be like that asshole, you’re just jealous that his favourite uncle has always got his back.”

“And his only father does too. Don’t I little man? Don’t I? Your daddy’s got you!” He cooed at the baby in his arms, who giggled and gripped at his hoodie.

Feeling grossed out at his boss’ sudden kindness, Dabi said his final goodbyes.“You’re so weird. It’s scary hearing you all happy and shit. Anyway I’m out, bye.” And with that; he hung up the phone. Leaving Tomura and his mini version of himself to hang out.

Tomura held the baby high in the air, chuckling to himself as mini feet kicked and flew all over the place in a fit of excitement. “So now that we’ve finally got that out of the way, what are me and you gonna do next hm?”

~~~~~~~~

After nearly an hour and a half of his father kindly entertaining the toddler with various, safe, ‘anti villain activities’, which is what you liked to call them, b/n started crying again. At this point Tomura had gotten used to his son’s yelling, carefully picking up the child and rocking him on his shoulder as he walked to the kitchen.

He put b/n into his blue and red high chair and pulled out his own seat, rummaging through the cabinets where you kept the baby food. “The last time I gave you your bottle, you threw it at my head. So pick between these two.” He pulled out a jar of mashed Carrot and peas, and apple purée.

B/n reached for the apple purée with his small hands and began to use his gums to bite on the lid, indicating to his father of his chosen meal for the evening.

“Good choice.” Tomura smiled and opened the jar, scooping up some of the purée with a plastic baby spoon and putting it into his Son’s mouth. “Ah, so now you’re not being all fussy. All you wanted was a little food huh?”

“Woah, don’t eat too fast, you might get the hiccups kid.” After Tomura waited for son to swallow his food, b/n soon opened his mouth and awaited another spoon full of apple sauce.

All this praise came to a stop when the infant spat out his mouthful of food. Tiny chunks of apple sauce covered Shigaraki’s frowning face as he sat in his seat frozen from shock, the little boy couldn’t help but laugh at his father’s reaction, that’s what kids do after all.

He stood up from his seat and picked up the nearest clean cloth to wipe his face and hoodie. “You try so hard to make my life difficult don’t you?” He sighed at a occupied b/n trying to get the last of his apple sauce from the almost empty jar with his little hand.

Tomura immediately came to assist him and scraped the leftover purée from inside of the jar and plopped it into the baby’s mouth.

“I guess I’ve gotta clean you up now. Your mum should be home soon.” He said checking his wrist watch. He cleaned his child’s hands and face with a baby wipe before he picked him up and went back into your living room.

~~~~~~~~

In order to keep the kid distracted while he cleaned up the living room which was filled with all of b/n’s little toys laying around, Tomura went through some of the CDs you had given him before you left.

In the end, he decided on Shrek 2. Tomura remembered how you always put it on for b/n whenever you were busy with work or house chores so he wouldn’t trouble you too much. “This should be fun, it’s your favourite movie right?”

B/n clapped for joy with his petite palms as he watched his father slip the disk into the DVD player and patiently waited for it to load as his guardian went into the other room to collect cleaning supplies.

Instead of watching the film, he watched Shigaraki with wide red eyes begin to put all of his teddy bears, action figures and electronic toys into his big customised wooden toy box situated in the corner of your living room.

Once he noticed that his father was done cleaning, He crawled towards the couch and held his hands up as an indication for him to be picked up. “All you have to do as ask y’know. Come on, I know you can do it. Just say something to me, Anything kid.”

One of Shigaraki’s goals was to be the one to inspire his Son’s first words. When you weren’t around, he always tried to get him to say crazy things such as ‘I hate All Might!’ or ‘Decay!’ But so far he hasn’t been successful. It wasn’t going to stop him from trying though.

If the kid could crawl, he could definitely try and talk.

“So you’re not gonna talk for me? Okay then little guy, come here.” He said in a slightly disappointed tone and brought his child up onto his lap, holding him in place with his strong arms as they both sat in silence watching Shrek shout at Donkey for no particular reason.

It reminded him about his relationship with Dabi and the others, they’d talk about absolute nonsense during meeting and he’d always tell them to shut up and focus on the main planning. He was a really tough leader, but secretly had a soft spot for each and every one of them. Just like he had a soft spot for you.

“Looks like after tormenting me all day, someone’s tired.” Shigaraki whispered as his son began to yawn and turn into his chest for comfort. He removed his hoodie and put it over b/n’s body, leaving himself with nothing but a white vest and grey jogging bottoms to get comfortable in.

He could feel himself slowly drifting off to sleep, he was really tired after spending the day taking care of the mischievous b/n. However, he had to ensure his little one was resting smoothly before he could take his own nap, so stayed up for another half hour.

Running his three fingers along the infants small back as he coed and dribbled over his fathers chest, before falling into a deep sleep.

And once he was satisfied, Shigaraki too slowly fell into slumber just minutes later.

No heavy or deep thoughts, just him and his adorable, innocent sleeping son on the small couch.

~~~~~~~~

“Shig? I’m back.” You yelled as you stepped through the front door, wondering what was currently occupying your boyfriend and your child.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” You called out again when you failed to receive a first response.

“B/n. Your mother’s home, where are you my favourite little guy? Hm?” You slipped off your shoes and coat, placed them on the floor and coat hanger before walking further into your home.

It was unusually quiet, from the last time you spoke to Tomura on the phone, you were expecting quite the opposite. B/n crawling up and down the apartment while his father tried to catch him, little toys everywhere, but it wasn’t the case.

Instead, the place was completely spotless and you were shocked to see your baby boy sleeping peacefully on top of his father’s chest, curled up in a little ball with his resting dad still holding him with one arm. It was such a beautiful sight to walk into.

Attempting to make as little noise as possible to ensure you didn’t wake the two males, you picked up a large nearby blanket and put it over them. The foreign object was enough for a half a sleep Tomura to flutter his eyes and smile at your presence that he missed so much.

“Did I do okay?”

You moved small strands of white hair away from his face before placing a soft kiss against his slightly sweaty forehead as he fell back into deep sleep.

“You did great Tomu.”

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taoofshigeru · 5 months

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2023 Game of the Year Post

Looking back, I was surprised to see how few "new" games I had played this year. But two of them were absolutely excellent so I'm going to talk about them a little.

In February, a game I was expecting to be good showed true greatness, and, in mid-November, a black-and-white indie touched my heart.

[Spoilers for In Stars and Time/Octopath Traveler II to follow.]

Let me start by talking about In Stars and Time/ISAT.

ISAT is a gay game about timeloops. The aloof but amiable rogue Siffrin sees their sanity stretched like a stick of used chewing gum as the fighter repeatedly chickens out on confessing his love for them and sincere heartfelt moments of human connection become rote scenes he must perform.

Throughout the process, Siffrin uses humor to deflect from serious emotional questions and eventually starts drifting away from the group during conversations. The specific character traits of 1) serial people-pleaser, 2) depressed person, and 3) funnyjokespun person who at times used humor to deflect from those issues was a little too specific in a way that hit in an emotionally relevant way.

Even more than that was the way it toyed with my patience as a player. I'm what I would describe as very good at games with repetitive tasks. Like, my tactics-loving friend and I have been doing a co-op playthrough of Tactics Ogre, and I was the enby who ultimately chose to be responsible for grinding Galgastani CF to recruit ultimate goth girl Cressida. It took hours of repeating the same battle and just babysitting the game for hours at a time. Sure I'd be willing to read through heart-to-heart events repeatedly to make the Siffrin's friends happy. I'd do it once, twice, even a fifth time. But my persistence is not bottomless.

In Stars and Time read me perfectly.

I did end up skipping or avoiding those events once the game stopped being a combat RPG and started being a visual novel/monkey island-style adventure in Act 4. I did start zoning through particular events once they happened more than 10 times. My patience did give way, though not to the extent of the protagonist Siffrin when they suffered a meltdown. And this happened right around the time when Siffrin started putting real distance between them and their friends. It took me to a dark place with the character in a way that made the catharsis at the end so worth it.

All of it went towards really effectively communicated the game's point of how it's worth it to talk to your friends about your problems.

~~~

The other game that moved me this year was also built around repeating and growing. It was about throwing yourself at the wall over and over again, with a little more force, a little more refined strategy, a little more panache and willingness to take risks. And about getting it just right, finally. This was my experience with Octopath Traveler 2

So, first of all, strategizing in OT2 kicks ass. Like the Bravely games of yore, this game nerfs the most broken tools (i.e. the Hunter's patience) from the first game, but gives the player new broken tools that synergize in new, exciting ways. And critically, it then throws enemies at you that can take it all and still be a challenge. (Sea of Stars did not do this last part.)

Got used to using someone's primary job for a lethal combo setup? Well guess what, primary jobs are now banned! Got a 6-attack strike with a killer legendary weapon that'll break any monster? Guess what, that weapon you used to get the break is now no longer the zombie dragon's weakness! Spent all your time building up your favorite 4 in an 8-character party? Guess who's gonna handle the superboss' second HP bar?

For a single-player game, it legitimately felt like I was experiencing a design that had been built to anticipate the player's combat choices on a meta level and would only let the door open for solutions that were suitably intricate and clever. Aside from superbosses, the game wasn't extraordinarily difficult, but it still left me constantly scrambling through my toolkit of HP, MP, turns, latent power, items, collectable monsters, and money mid-battle to find a solution to pick any given boss' lock. As a turn-based combat RPG, OT2 killed it.

And that wasn't even the strongest point.

The character stories in Octopath Traveler one were, on a basic level, enjoyable, and were engaging enough that the game's art, soundtrack, and deep turn-based combat could combine to make a great game. Octopath II ups the storytelling game significantly, offering nonlinear chapter order, story-focused chapters that end without a boss fight, and a cast that's generally very well written and played brilliantly by the English vocal cast. The positive impression I had of the game after the first ten hours gave way to a wowed one as characters started to interact, showcasing entertaining personal dynamics and tugging at the strings of a looming, bigger mystery. The climactic arc, Journey for the Dawn, ties all eight chapters together and presents an incredibly satisfying and at times emotionally wrenching finale.

I don't know if any side character in a game has ever hit me half as hard as Ori the Scrivener has

But also, mystery arc main plot removed, the world of OT2 has so much character. There's a whole questline where you sit through a court hearing and then have to investigate the mystery around town to show up and avoid a wrongful verdict with a key testimony or piece of evidence. Secret princess/gardener lesbian subplots and eldritch stuffed toys are just some of the things that exist in the background.

The story about getting it just right wasn't just a player experience. It was also the meta narrative - writing in the first game wasn't weak by any means, but the writing in the second game is just an inarguable improvement. Combat in the first game pitched juicy fastballs that were well-scaled to my play experience, but this baby kept tossing out monster curves and tricky sliders.

I think creative perfection is a myth, because it's always possible to improve. Octopath Traveler II shows how, and that's why it's my game of the year.

~Thanks for reading my selfish little blurb!~

#spoilers #game of the year #goty 2023 #goty #octopath traveler 2 #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #octopath traveler 2 spoilers #isat

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cor-ardens-archive · 2 years

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Do you have any favorite quotes from Lolita?

This is a difficult question because Lolita is one of my favorite books and the prose is so beautiful, I could easily quote the entire thing. But I chose some particular favorites that are both beautiful and personally meaningful. (I am omitting the funny passages even though I appreciate them a lot, and “picnic, lightning” never fails to make me laugh.)

[CW csa, rape]

The iconic beginning that everyone always quotes, because it truly is perfect. I tried to shorten it to my very first lines, but it’s pointless, the whole of it is superior:

"Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.

Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.

Ladies, and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns."

I'm sure my other choices are nothing out of the ordinary either, they're popular favorites for good reason:

"Nothing could have been more childish than her snubbed nose, freckled face or the purplish spot on her naked neck where a fairytale vampire had feasted..."

Later on, in Part Two, we have more vampire/parasite/blood sucking imagery: “A forest in Arkansas and, on her brown shoulder, a raised purple-pink swelling (the work of some gnat) which I eased between my long thumbnails and then sucked till I was gorged on her spicy blood.”

"More and more uncomfortable did Humbert feel. It was something quite special, that feeling: an oppressive, hideous constraint as if I were sitting with the small ghost of somebody I had just killed."

A very small ghost... it always gets to me. In fact, almost the entirety of the passages following the first time H.H. rapes Dolores, to the end of Part One, particularly when she "jokingly" accuses him of raping her. It's desperately miserable. And then, especially:

"In the gay town of Lepingville I bought her four books of comics, a box of candy, a box of sanitary pads, two cokes, a manicure set, a travel clock with a luminous dial, a ring with a real topaz, a tennis racket, roller skates with white high shoes, field glasses, a portable radio set, chewing gum, a transparent raincoat, sunglasses, some more garments—swooners, shorts, all kinds of summer frocks. At the hotel we had separate rooms, but in the middle of the night she came sobbing into mine, and we made it up very gently. You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go."

It's maybe the most heartbreaking passage in the whole book for me. Dolores has been raped, she’s scared, bleeding and in pain. She asks to call her mother, and H.H. tells her her mother is dead (and Dolores is a “small ghost” — he links her and her mother, as he will do again later — “A kind of thoughtful Hegelian synthesis linking up two dead women”). He enumerates the items she bought her — items typical of an American childhood and tourist attractions. In the same paragraph, he tells us that she goes to him in the middle of the night, crying and seeking some form of comfort from the only person she has in the world; and that he rapes her again. “You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go.” is such a great line to end the first part of the book. From there, it’s the American open road and “no point staying anywhere”.

“How sweet it was to bring that coffee to her, and then deny it until she had done her morning duty. And I was such a thoughtful friend, such a passionate father, such a good pediatrician, attending to all the wants of my little auburn brunette’s body! My only grudge against nature was that I could not turn my Lolita inside out and apply voracious lips to her young matrix, her unknown heart, her nacreous liver, the sea-grapes of her lungs, her comely twin kidneys.”

I really love the descriptions of her anatomy (unknown heart, nacreous liver, comely twin kidneys). The passage is followed by a scene where Dolores is reading a magazine article about sex crimes against children, and she reads out loud: “”If,” she repeated, “you don’t have a pencil, but are old enough to read and write—this is what the guy means, isn’t it, you dope—scratch the number somehow on the roadside.” / “With your little claws, Lolita.”

“We had been everywhere. We had really seen nothing. And I catch myself thinking today that our long journey had only defiled with a sinuous trail of slime the lovely, trustful, dreamy, enormous country that by then, in retrospect, was no more to us than a collection of dog-eared maps, ruined tour books, old tires, and her sobs in the night—every night, every night—the moment I feigned sleep.”

It’s just beautiful. The “defilement” of the country, her sobs (she wept every night), the very synthesis of their road life.

“One of the latticed squares in a small cobwebby casement window at the turn of the staircase was glazed with ruby, and that raw wound among the unstained rectangles and its asymmetrical position—a knight’s move from the top—always strangely disturbed me.”

This one I can’t quite explain. I marked it the very first time I read the book, and I’m not sure why it captured my attention so strongly. There’s just something about the way he describes the stain as a “raw wound”, its asymmetrical position, the reference to chess. Maybe it’s the blood-like red stain inside the home, “that parody of incest”. Or maybe it captures something about the book as a whole, the violence and raw wound underlying the story, America, the English language. Or maybe I’m just misreading it and making a whole thing.

I’m also always very disturbed by the scene when H.H. rapes Dolores while she is sick with a fever: “... and I could not resist the exquisite caloricity of unexpected delights—Venus febriculosa -- though it was a very languid Lolita that moaned and coughed and shivered in my embrace.”

When H.H. talks of his pedophilia and obsession with young girls:

“There was in the fiery phantasm a perfection which made my wild delight also perfect, just because the vision was out of reach, with no possibility of attainment to spoil it by the awareness of an appended taboo; indeed, it may well be that the very attraction immaturity has for me lies not so much in the limpidity of pure young forbidden fairy child beauty as in the security of a situation where infinite perfections fill the gap between the little given and the great promised—the great rosegray never-to-be-had. Mes fenětres! Hanging above blotched sunset and welling night, grinding my teeth, I would crowd all the demons of my desire against the railing of a throbbing balcony: it would be ready to take off in the apricot and black humid evening; did take off—whereupon the lighted image would move and Eve would revert to a rib, and there would be nothing in the window but an obese partly clad man reading the paper.”

I said I wouldn’t include funny passages, but I admit that last sentence is pretty funny. I also just like how well it captures one of the most important aspects of Lolita — we can see that Humbert cannot see; but we only have Humbert’s words, and so we cannot really see either. Dolores remains unattainable both to him and to us, and perhaps that’s part of our collective fascination with the book and the character. This is somewhat related to the absolutely gorgeous passages in chapter 20/Pt. 2 of H.H. watching Dolores play tennis. More than once he regrets not filming her (Quilty tries to film her, but she evades him), but paints the scene to the reader with the most beautiful strokes (he cannot have Lolita, we cannot have Dolores; but we can have his words). It’s too long to quote in full, but some snippets of note:

“The exquisite clarity of all her movements had its auditory counterpart in the pure ringing sound of her every stroke. The ball when it entered her aura of control became somehow whiter, its resilience somehow richer, and the instrument of precision she used upon it seemed inordinately prehensile and deliberate at the moment of clinging contact. Her form was, indeed, an absolutely perfect imitation of absolutely top-notch tennis—without any utilitarian results.“

"... on that particular day, in the pure air of Champion, Colorado, on that admirable court at the foot of steep stone stairs leading up to Champion Hotel where we had spent the night, I felt I could rest from the nightmare of unknown betrayals within the innocence of her style, of her soul, of her essential grace."

"... Did I ever mention that her bare arm bore the 8 of vaccination? That I loved her hopelessly? That she was only fourteen?

An inquisitive butterfly passed, dipping, between us."

And still, through the haze, there are moments when H.H. seems to see something real in Dolores. Even then, it’s never truly clear if those glimpses are real, but they’re nevertheless very touching. As false as Humbert is, as much as he lies and self-aggrandizes and plays at redemption for an imaginary jury, there may be kernels of truth to some of what he says.

“... [M]y Lolita remarked:

“You know, what’s so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own”; and it struck me, as my automaton knees went up and down, that I simply did not know a thing about my darling’s mind and that quite possibly, behind the awful juvenile clichés, there was in her a garden and a twilight, and a palace gate—dim and adorable regions which happened to be lucidly and absolutely forbidden to me, in my polluted rags and miserable convulsions.”

This one is heartbreaking:

“Once when Avis’s father had honked outside to signal papa had come to take his pet home, I felt obliged to invite him into the parlor, and he sat down for a minute, and while we conversed, Avis, a heavy, unattractive, affectionate child, drew up to him and eventually perched plumply on his knee. Now, I do not remember if I have mentioned that Lolita always had an absolutely enchanting smile for strangers, a tender furry slitting of the eyes, a dreamy sweet radiance of all her features which did not mean a thing of course, but was so beautiful, so endearing that one found it hard to reduce such sweetness to but a magic gene automatically lighting up her face in atavistic token of some ancient rite of welcome—hospitable prostitution, the coarse reader may say. Well, there she stood while Mr. Byrd twirled his hat and talked, and—yes, look how stupid of me, I have left out the main characteristic of the famous Lolita smile, namely: while the tender, nectared, dimpled brightness played, it was never directed at the stranger in the room but hung in its own remote flowered void, so to speak, or wandered with myopic softness over chance objects—and this is what was happening now: while fat Avis sidled up to her papa, Lolita gently beamed at a fruit knife that she fingered on the edge of the table, whereon she leaned, many miles away from me. Suddenly, as Avis clung to her father’s neck and ear while, with a casual arm, the man enveloped his lumpy and large offspring, I saw Lolita’s smile lose all its light and become a frozen little shadow of itself, and the fruit knife slipped off the table and struck her with its silver handle a freak blow on the ankle which made her gasp, and crouch head forward, and then, jumping on one leg, her face awful with the preparatory grimace which children hold till the tears gush, she was gone—to be followed at once and consoled in the kitchen by Avis who had such a wonderful fat pink dad and a small chubby brother, and a brand-new baby sister, and a home, and two grinning dogs, and Lolita had nothing.”

And this passage, too, never fails to bring tears to my eyes:

“What I heard was but the melody of children at play, nothing but that, and so limpid was the air that within this vapor of blended voices, majestic and minute, remote and magically near, frank and divinely enigmatic—one could hear now and then, as if released, an almost articulate spurt of vivid laughter, or the crack of a bat, or the clatter of a toy wagon, but it was all really too far for the eye to distinguish any movement in the lightly etched streets. I stood listening to that musical vibration from my lofty slope, to those flashes of separate cries with a kind of demure murmur for background, and then I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita’s absence from my side, but the absence of her voice from that concord.”

I’ll probably think of a dozen more favorites, but the post is long enough as it is, and it’s late. Hope this is something. Followers, if you want to add your own favorites in the replies, please do!

#i also really love when H.H. likens himself to a spider spreading his web around the house-- ''is Lo in her room?''#anyway #Lolita

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artmakerproductions · 2 years

Photo

Good-Bad Swap AU

1) Top to Bottom: Charlie Bucket, Veruca Salt, Augustus Gloop, Violet Beauregarde and Mike TeaVee. - Augustus Gloop is a big kid who'd been working to bring down his weight for the last few months and has been on a healthy diet. One day, he's given a wonka bar as a small treat by his parents for all his hard work. It just so happens he finds the first golden ticket. - Violet Beauregarde is a shy girl who chews gum as a nervous habit. Always obeying her parents and other authority figures having never broken a rule her life. She'd much rather not be noticed. She finds her ticket like how anyone else would. By buying a wonka bar. Nothing special. - Mike TeaVee is a big time internet personality akin to Markiplier, Pewdiepie or Jacksepticeye and is just full of life and energy and is quite talkative, but is a generally good kid. After one of his donation streams, he finds the winning wonka bar w/ the golden ticket in it. - Veruca Salt is from a wealthy background, but doesn't conform to the lifestyle as she is a junk collector who treasures what others see as garbage. She found her ticket among a large piles of boxes w/ opened (but still fresh) wonka bars thrown out. But, among them was a single wonka bar unopened. She found a golden ticket. - Charlie Bucket is a pickpocket and a thief. As the boy grew up on the harsh cold streets alone for most of his life. He saw the world as an empty and miserable place. Only for the wealthy and upper class to enjoy. So, he sees it as his right to rob from them to survive. Always up for a challenge. With the announcement of the contest, he's been thieving for wonka bars as of late. As the contest draws to a close, he finds his ticket in a candy store just after robbing a few bucks off some other (more well off) kids.

2) So anyways, in this AU, Wonka is very android-like, in that he is rather cold, lacking in variety of facial expressions and emotions. His body movements seem off, like a preprogrammed robot or puppet. Wonka speaks in a dry, practically monotone voice. His attire reflects this with a basic and rather dull coloration and blandness. If he were to smile, it'd be most unsettling. He wears no hat, but does wear a pair of goggles that hide his eyes from others. Making it difficult to tell what’s going on in his head. Think, Judge Doom but as a candy maker.

3) Augustus: The boy is tempted to take a drink from the river by Charlie. When no one is looking, he nudges him over the edge. Acts as if he tried to save him at the last second. He is sent down the river and up the pipes where a spinning filter blade is.

Violet: Charlie swaps Violet's regular gum w/ the three course chewing gum. She accidentally swallows it as she blows up into a blueberry. Wonka promises her parents that she will be returned to normal, but reveals to the others that he has no clue if she actually can be.

Veruca: Wonka and co. pass by the Junk Room, where the many uncompleted or broken inventions and machinery are tossed down onto a conveyor belt. Veruca goes bananas with what she sees and sneaks away to go back and look around in the pile for valuables and is sent down to the furnace room by accident.

Mike: Mike TeaVee soon catches onto what Charlie has been doing, but before he tells anyone, Charlie lures him right onto the Wonkavision device and is zapped right into the TV where he is trapped. Charlie knocks the TV over when no one is looking.

Charlie: As the tour concludes, Wonka congratulates Charlie for lasting the longest on the tour. Charlie, believing he’s won, is brought to Wonka’s office. There, he gets locked in the glass elevator and is sent right to Loompa Land. Wonka sighs, disappointed in the outcome of the tour. He hopes that maybe the next one will have a better results.

#charlie and the chocolate factory #wonka #willy wonka #good bad swap #au #good bad swap au #charlie bucket #violet beauregarde #mike teavee #veruca salt #augustus gloop #fan art #sketches

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 1 year

Note

Wait okay what about Lucian trying to talk Peter into accepting ethical vampirism as an option/into not despairing quite so badly?

Lucian is trying his best and Peter is difficult, but what else is new?

On with the fic!

Peter should feel like he was in a dangerous saw-trap house due to his personal collection in his penthouse of vampire hunting tools, but he was still a hunter, damnit. Even if it... seemed bad that he was now one of the people he hunted. Was this like being a hitman against humans? He didn't know.

He tried not to think about it, especially about his situation, but it wasn't easy to avoid thoughts of fangs and blood. All he had to do was look in the mirror and know that he wasn't looking at a human anymore.

He tried to carry on with his life, he still performed his show, still caused trouble for people both in real life and online, and often could be found trying to get drunk off his ass. There just tended to be more panic attacks now, and times where he hid in dark shadows of his home as, apparently, the smallest species of bat in North America, which meant avoiding problems was made so much easier now. The only plus he could think of because of this stupid problem.

Well.

No.

There was another plus, and that was Lucian.

They'd only known one another for less than a month, but Peter found himself latching onto the guy constantly. Both metaphorically and physically when he needed to drink blood. Yes, he had... disgustingly been bringing animal blood into his diet, with the few foods he could actually stomach (which wasn't much, and he gave up quickly on trying to figure out what he could eat because he was tired of being sick), but Lucian's fresh blood was like a damn drug.

Maybe it was because it was offered willingly right from the source, who knows. But Peter always felt horrible after consuming it, even if it calmed the hunger that was always there, in the back of his mind.

He licked his lips, trying to savor every drop, as he pulled away from Lucian's wrist. Always the arm, always the wrist, Peter didn't want to bite Lucian's neck. He watched as the bite marks started to heal already. "I hate this." He said, staring at the wound.

"It's better than the alternative, though is the animal blood helping?" Lucian asked as he pulled down his sleeve, hiding the wound from Peter.

"Ehhh... kinda? I mean, it's not the worst, clearly, it's just... it's not as good as sucking you."

Lucian makes a face and Peter grins before sighing, leaning back against his couch, looking at his ceiling that he was becoming much more accustomed to now that he discovered he can sleep on it, oddly enough. What the fuck kinda vampire is he?

"I'm trying to drink it so I don't have to keep relying on you for my fix. I found that I can mix it with things, not everything tastes great, but I can tell you straight up that blood makes for the best fuckin' Bloody Mary you'll ever drink. I'll have to make you one later today. I also weirdly like it in my coffee, but I think that's cause I cover it up with enough syrups to hide the metallic taste."

"That sounds disgusting."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, pretty boy." Peter snorted and moved to sprawl on the couch. "Look, Lucian, I'm tryin', alright? But I hate this! It... it sucks! You wanna know somethin'? I tried to chew some gum the other day, and my body made me feel horrible about it, so now that's something I can't have!"

He flopped down so he was on his back, and then moved to curl up, facing the couch. "I fuckin' hate this. I never asked to have this happen, I just... I'm always so careful! I used to wear silver all the time to protect myself! And guess what!"

"What?" Lucian asked, placing a hand on Peter's leg, the one he had unconsciously dropped on the man's lap.

"Apparently it burns me! I've had to give my shit away, and that's a lot of silver, mind you. Luckily, the girls in the show were more than happy to take some from me, and the rest I've given away in some fan contest thing online. My PR people like it because it means I'm doing somethin' nice for the fans, but it's mainly so I don't kill myself while wearin' my bling."

"Oh, I wasn't aware that silver was deadly to you. It's rather dangerous for me as well, and for many werewolf-like people. Not sure why, but it's painful. And trust me when I say that I wouldn't wish silver nitrate bullets on my own worst enemies, that was..."

Peter glanced at Lucian, watching his face contort into something that looked very pained, like he was feeling a phantom sensation. He only knew a bit of Lucian's past, that he had been the first of his kind and a leader who had 'died' during the last great battle of an underground vampire/lycan war. He remembered Lucian saying he had been shot and left for dead by bullets made of silver nitrate that liquefied in his veins. Yeah, he couldn't blame the guy for not wanting anyone else to deal with something like that.

"How do you do it, Lucian?" Peter sighed, moving to be on his back, eyes on the ceiling.

"Do what?"

"Just... not be human."

"I was never human to begin with, Peter, so I'm not sure how to answer that question for you."

He groaned and gently kicked the lycan. "I need an answer, I need to know how to handle this, to live as the thing I hate most in the world! For fuck's sake, Lucian, I spent most of my life learning how to keep these things away and how to fight them, just in case Jerry ever tracked me down to finish the job."

He wrapped his arms around him, squeezing tightly, his chest felt tight and he felt a little dizzy. "I'm trying, I'm trying, but I don't know what to do, or how to accept this...!"

He felt a squeeze on his leg, a comforting feeling. "Peter, it's alright."

"No, it's not."

"It's only bad because you can only see the negatives."

"They're all negatives. I don't want to be this, I just want to be human again."

Lucian sighed, rubbing his leg. "What if it had been different? What if someone of my kind had bitten you?"

Peter glanced at him, frowning, then shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know... I don't have beef with you guys, but it would be... bad? Awkward? I dunno the first thing about bein' a lycan."

"But you know vampires, you know how to keep yourself safe, you know your limitations and strengths, right?"

"Not... really? Kinda? I dunno, this isn't a well know species, but I know some stuff."

"That's good, it's a start. How about this, considering you can't undo what has been done, maybe we can find ways to make this work for you? There are pros and cons to being an immortal humanoid being, let's figure out what you like and dislike about it."

Peter scoffed. "Lots of cons there, wolfy. Cons: I'm the thing that killed my parents and girlfriend."

"You're not the same kind."

"Still, a vampire." Peter held up two fingers. "Con: I have to survive on blood."

"Pro: You've found some foods you can eat just fine, and other liquids are not a problem for you at all."

"Con: The sun hurts me."

"Pro: The sun hurts everyone, and you can actually still walk in it, even if only for short periods of time."

"Con: I sometimes eat bugs."

"Pro: Only as a bat."

"Con: I can turn into a bat."

"Pro: You can turn into a bat, and you love it. You told me you like being a bat to escape your problems."

Peter glared at him, damnit, he was right, he actually did love being an adorable, little bat. Especially when he discovered the wonders of just sleeping on one of his big, fancy, expensive bed pillows and just napping for hours like that.

He continued to try and bring up his bad stuff. "Con: Uhh... I get an ugly bat face."

"Pro: It's not ugly, it's fascinating and threatening. You also get a new eye color that oddly fits you." Lucian said with a straight face, but Peter felt his oddly-working heart beat just a little faster.

Fucking charmer.

"Con: I can't get drunk or high like I used to."

"Pro: It's much better for your health that you don't."

"God, you're a killjoy." Peter snorted and Lucian laughed, stupid, pretty, wolf man with a cute laugh.

Lucian smiled at him. "Pro: You're stronger, faster, and more agile like this. You can do things you've never done before, and you're immortal now, unable to age, you get to keep your looks from now on."

"Are you trying to appeal to my egotistical side?" Peter asked. "Cause it's almost working."

"Maybe." Lucian said and went back to rubbing his leg. "Peter, it's going to be difficult, I cannot lie to you about that. I have known many lycans and vampires who were once human that have changed and have had trouble accepting their new lives, but they had found benefits that worked for them, things that made life a little easier."

Peter sighed. "I get that, but... it's the principle of this thing, ya know? I feel like this is a punishment, for all the shitty things I've done. Or Jerry's revenge from beyond the dirt in his shitty, creepy basement where his ashes are laying. And... what's worse is that I was never given a choice, it was given to me against my will, like a bad gift I can never return or trade off."

Lucian nodded, looking like he finally understood what was bugging Peter. "It'll be a long road to accepting, and that might not even involve willingly accepting it all. But through all of this, you have me to help you, or even just to vent to, alright?"

He looked at Lucian and damnit, this man was just... how was it that he was a wanted war criminal when he was so nice and understanding? Peter reached out a hand, taking Lucian's in his own, he felt so hot to the touch, so alive, it was weird to be aware of that.

"Thanks. Just... ya know, thanks." He muttered, looking anywhere but at him.

"You're welcome." Lucian gave his hand a squeeze and they sat quietly in a comfortable silence.

Then Lucian spoke again. "Another pro: You like sleeping on the ceiling."

"Hell yeah, I do. You should try it, defying gravity sleeping in the best."

"I can't do that, even if I can climb on walls and ceilings in my wolf form."

"For real? Dude, that is so fuckin' hot."

"What?"

"Nothin'."

I almost, *almost* wrote them kissing during the pros and cons scene, but I thought, no, too early. Even though Peter unconsciously wants to smooch him.

#lucian x peter vincent #john's drabbles

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lost-kingsmen · 5 months

Text

A Cold Night in Gotham

Ao3

It hadn't been difficult to find the site of the summoning. If the eerie clouds hanging in the sky hadn't been clue enough, the frost painting fractals across the concrete and floating in the water in the height of summer were a dead giveaway.

The knight touched down on the ice where it thickened at the threshold of the shipping container, and knocked on a piece of door that had been blown outward into a twisted metal shred twice before simply phasing through the wall of blue ice that blocked off the container’s interior. He didn’t spare more than a glance for the frozen chunks of ice entombing the unfortunate men who had been left on guard.

It was probably a mercy, compared to what the local vigilante would have inflicted on them.

As soon as Gawain’s suit cleared the icy barrier, the flame atop his helmet flared and split off into three pieces. Griflet, Chopper and Branwen crawled down his shoulders and arms in their more corporeal forms. Gawain crossed his arms over his chest and leveled the hulking skeletal entity seated across the room with a stern glare.

“Again?” He asked rhetorically. All activity within the container abruptly ceased as fifteen pairs of eyes snapped to the newcomer, wary and frightened in equal measure but for one. The entity did not falter under the knight’s glare, and made no move to rise from where he sat on the ground. When the stranger in gleaming armor was not treated as a threat, the group of near-trafficked children slowly began to relax, and one of them even threw a snowball at another.

Griflet, Branwen, and Chopper all dropped to the icy floor below and scampered across the ice, using their little claws as crampons, and falling over one another in pursuit of the snowball, and the rest of the tension seemed to break. A few of the children laughed, and they resumed playing among the drifts of snow and ice. The skeletal entity leaned their elbows over their knees andmade a sound like a sigh.

"Yes, again." He growled out. A child slid between them, laughing as they were chased by another, seemingly unbothered by the icy coldness of the room. "Look, I feel a summons, I answer a summons. It's not my fault this city has a trafficking problem."

"It is your fault so many children apparently know how to summon you." Gawain argued. Another child ran by, pulling two more on a makeshift sled with Branwen’s help. "This is the third time this month you've been summoned to Gotham, specifically. Gotham. Eventually you're going to get the attention of the locals. Goodness knows how you haven't already."

"Melkein toivon, etten olisi soittanut sinulle..." Red lights rolled around dark, cracked eye sockets in a dismissive gesture. "Are you gonna get me home or just stand there and lecture me?"

“Who says I can’t do both?” Gawain stepped to one side to avoid a child sliding across the floor, laughing as Griflet rolled a sizable snowball after him. “Your husband will make me a double ghost if I don’t get you home, not to mention your father…” He moved toward the center of the container, where the ice seemed to radiate outward from a circle of frozen spikes.

In the center of the circle was a rough summoning graph, drawn in black marker against the steel floor and sealed beneath a clear layer of ice. Four stolen cigarettes stuck upright in chewed gum stood in for the candles, and a red ribbon from somebody’s hair was placed in between them. In the middle, on top of the ribbon, lay a single, battered trading card with bent corners. Gawain knelt down and picked up the trading card, careful not to catch it on the seams of his hand.

“The cigarettes are a creative substitute.” He said quietly. The entity shrugged.

“They used what they had available.” He said back just as quietly. Gawain floated back toward the entity, and held out the card. The entity took it in one heavy, gloved hand, and passed it on to a young girl with a gaunt face and bloodshot eyes. She took it and pressed it to her chest, sniffling, and buried her face against the entity’s shoulder. A red shape moved behind her, and a canine-like blob rested its head on her own.

“I expected more of your polter-pack to be around, Ivan.” Gawain commented, a smile on the edge of his voice. The girl made a watery laughing sound, and the entity - Ivan, just like the name on the trading card - swiveled his skull to glare at the knight.

“They’re keeping the perimeter clear, at least until the local heroes show up…and don’t call them that.” He growled. “We’re not giving them some gimmicky name.”

“I think we are.” Gawain’s eyes turned up in a smile. The makeshift sled passed them by again, this time carrying three children as Branwen dragged it backwards in her teeth, her claws scrabbling at the ice in a frantic pace. “It’s been said out loud now. It’s not going away.” Ivan muttered something in Finnish that was probably impolite and slowly shifted his weight to begin standing up, giving the children leaning on him or near him time to move, themselves.

“I’ll corral the little ones.” He decided. “You make sure the coast is clear, and we’ll follow you out.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Gawain ignored the amused snort he got in response, and whistled a quick tune. His three little spirits came running back to him, and he phased them back through the icy wall without a word further.

#mun's writing #[[Lost Little Astronaut]] - Gawain #[[Three Ghost Lizards in a Trenchcoat]] - Reptilitones #[[God of the Frozen Heart(h]] - Callahan #((half-written at work so pls excuse any typos))

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gfanlocalcryptid · 1 year

Text

The story about Anti Mabel that you didn't expect.

"I don't want! I don't want! Idon'twantIdon'twantIdon'twantIdon'twant..."

"And yet you want it!"

Dipper, Mabel and Ford were accompanying Anti Mabel to the dentist, as she needed to get braces. Only that the dreaded Shooting Star variant was not at all happy about it.

"I don't want braces! They're ugly! Useless! And... stupid!"

The Pines couldn't take it anymore. Stan immediately snapped out of it, claiming he had pugs to export to Mexico or something.

After a twenty-minute drive in which the only sound was Anti M.'s moans, Ford took his eyes off the road for three seconds and fixed them on the screaming girl.

"If you don't get braces your teeth will grow crooked, you won't be able to eat and you'll starve! Is this what you want?"

Instantly, the wicked little girl stopped whining and fell silent, to the delight of all the other passengers.

When they arrived at the dental office they waited a few minutes, and then an orthodontist called the girl, who sadly trudged towards her fate. The orthodontist was an elderly lady with a sweet face and gold glasses. She made Anti M. sit down, and she did it without making too much fuss. He calmly explained all the procedures to prepare the girl.

However, just before starting, Anti Mabel burst out laughing and opened her mouth, showing chewing gum she had been holding the entire time.

"Ah-ha! How are you going to put braces on me while I'm chewing gum, huh? I really want to see!" Then she gave an evil laugh, and waited for the dentist's answer.

The woman looked at it for a few seconds, then said, "You know, I could call the man, the boy and the girl who accompanied you, and they'd make you throw it away."

Anti Mabel blanched. She hadn't expected this.

Unexpectedly the orthodontist smiled.

"I understand. Getting braces can be difficult, even frightening. I don't want to force you to do what you don't want, but as a doctor, I have a duty to treat you, or keep you from getting sick. And then, in my opinion, braces would suit you."

Anti Mabel stood still. "So you're not going to force me?"

The woman shook her head.

"Absolutely."

*some time later*

Anti Mabel touched her face. She was still under anesthesia, but she sensed that there was something different about her.

Anti Mabel looked at the orthodontist a little wary, but also grateful.

"T-thanks."

The kind lady smiled.

"It's been my job for thirty-seven years! Your welcome."

Anti Mabe returned to her companions. Ford was sleeping, probably dreaming about Bill. After he managed to get the demon out of Stanley's mind they were friends again, and maybe a little more. Dipper was reading a book and Mabel was chatting with a little girl who was there to treat a cavity.

They smiled when they saw her, and Mabel said they looked exactly alike now.

Anti Mabel snorted, said goodbye to the orthodontist, and started to leave the dental office.

She turned a moment before walking out the door, and showed the chewing gum she was putting in her mouth.

She stuck her tongue in, and ran off, chased by the Pines, while the dentist laughed heartily.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #stanford pines #anti mabel #gravity falls fanfiction

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sckyie · 2 years

Text

➽ [ 12:18 PM ]

it was unexpected when you had found out you were pregnant. even more unexpected when your boyfriend kenma agreed to help raise the baby. despite living apart at the moment, the two of you had a baby girl, just shy of seven months now. it wasn't that you two were broken up or you didn't want to live together, it was just difficult finding a house that could fit you three and afford with both incomes. at the moment, your daughter stayed between houses every few weeks, mainly at yours but this weekend she was with kenma.

you clicked away through your files on your laptop as you glanced at the house site tab every so often. letting out a sigh, as you go to call your boyfriend, he was already calling you on discord on his pc.

"hi bubs," you smile at your boyfriend on the computer screen. "and hi pumpkin." greeting your daughter, who was gnawing on kenma's hoodie strings as she lay flush against his shoulder. her hands barely wave as she sniffles and chews. her hair is messily done pigtails, one drooping more than the other.

"love," he sighs, playing with her fingers as he bounces her on his leg. "can you come get her?"

"why? what's wrong?" you tilt your head. "was she crying?"

"i- yeah but i- she wouldn't stop crying today," kenma pinches the bridge of his nose. your daughter looks up at him, gripping his hoodie to get his attention. "and she pooped all over the bed so i don't know what to do or why she doesn't feel good."

"she's probably teething, that's why she's biting your clothes," you gesture. she turns slightly to the screen, whispering small noises as she looks at you. "she chews on my hand when she goes to bed because her pacifier isn't enough for her."

"oh," he looks at your daughter in defeat. you watch as he carefully pulls up her lips to expose four teeth creeping up in the front. she winces as he counts the teeth with the pads of his fingers. "she has four now."

"four!? she's growing up too fast. she had three last week," you pout. "if she's still hurting, rub her gums and if it's too much for her, you can give her the tylenol in her bag."

"well, me and stinkie are gonna go take a bath," he says lifting her up, making her giggle at the motion. she reaches for his face, grinning down at her dad. "say bye to mama."

she opens and closes her hand towards the screen, babbling softly. "bye bubby, bye pumpkin. mwah, mwah, i'll come over tonight so i can sleep over m'kay?"

the call ends and kenma looks at his daughter as she drools down her onesie. "okay stinkers, you do need a bath." he carries her to the bedroom, setting her down on the middle of the bed.

"baba?" she babbled. she pats her hands below her as she watched kenma place down new clothes and a fresh diaper. she picks up the items, giggling as bath time is her favorite.

"yes, baby, babas," he agrees. "hopefully, mama and i can live together soon so i don't need to call her every time you cry." he squishes her cheek softly as she looks at him in awe. he lays beside her momentarily as she crawls over to him.

she reaches up to tug his hair, her way of asking for kisses. kenma lifts her up and peppers her face with kisses, pulling away only for her to lean into his cheek. she nibbles and drools onto him, making him cringe at the feeling. "okay stinkie, now we both are going babas, you gremlin."

#haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu x you #hq x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq drabbles #haikyuu kenma #hq kenma #kenma drabble #Kozume Kenma #kenma x you #kenma kozume #kenma #haikyuu dad #hq dad #instyle drabbles

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dyns33 · 2 years

Text

The Devil’s Lawyer 10

Part 10 of Matt Murderdock x Nice Lawyer Reader. Part 9 here

Nice Matt had found the right term. Territorial.

Matt Murdock was territorial.

Well, not with the city or Hell's Kitchen. Not really. He was the Kingpin of New York, so it was his. And he was born here, so it probably meant something to him. He defended his empire. But it was not really important to him, it was only his mission. If they asked him to blow it all up, he would without hesitation.

No, he was territorial with her, mostly.

Very quickly Y/N had noticed certain things, but now it was obvious.

It had to be said that Matt had tried to be discreet at first. Maybe not to scare her too much. So that she wouldn't have questions.

Then he understood that she was brave and that she wasn't going to ask anything, so he let himself go.

The ritual was always the same as soon as she got home. Either Matt was already there or he would arrive later, but it would always be the same.

Matt was practically throwing himself on her, visibly irritated, sniffing and touching her.

"Uuh. Hello ?" she had stammered the first time. "A problem ?"

"You smell wrong."

"You mean I smell bad ?"

"No. Wrong."

That meant, not like him.

On her clothes and her skin, he could smell the scents of all the people she had seen during the day. The people who had shaken her hand, who had bumped into her in the street, who had handed her a folder. All the people who had dared to touch her.

So Matt would take back what was his, his hands going over her face, her neck, everywhere, quickly followed by his lips. So that his scent would cover the intruders' stench.

But that wasn't enough, so he insisted on washing her. It was a fairly intimate moment, but above all a very serious one. Matt took this task really to heart, making sure to soap her whole body with great care.

And finally they ended on the bed, and the parasitic odours having disappeared, he could totally mark her again.

By rubbing. By licking, kissing, biting.

Even though he couldn't see them, Matt was very proud of the marks he left on her body. The others, not having such keen senses as him, needed to know that she was his. They could see the marks. He purposely chose spots that Y/N couldn't hide. Little brat.

Of course it didn't work and there was always someone to touch her, completely innocently, and Matt had to start all over again. He was pissed off by it, and at the same time he didn't seem to mind.

It was hard to understand Matt.

He didn't like people touching her, and he didn't like them talking to her either. It was a bit difficult to work without communicating with others. No, not difficult, impossible. And not just to work, to live.

So Matt didn't stop her, but he mumbled dangerously whenever she mentioned someone else. He did not like her colleagues and her friends. Nor her family.

He hated when she brought up Otomo-san. He didn't want her to say 'san'. Yet it was just basic politeness, it wasn't like she was saying 'sama' or 'shujin'.

He was not happy to learn that she had met Spider Woman. He didn't seem worried, because the Spider wouldn't hurt her, but he asked her not to get too attached to the girl.

He would sulk if Y/N evoked Nice Matt.

To sum up, Matt was really jealous of everyone. Absolutely everyone.

"Should I have a talk with Foggy ?"

"No, why ?"

"He hugged you... He kissed you."

"On the cheek. Well, he was aiming for the cheek, it was an accident. We won a very complicated case today, he was happy. Then we had a drink to celebrate, and he was even more happy. Don't be like that."

"He kissed you." he repeated, growling.

"And what ? You're going to wash my mouth with soap ?"

"I could."

"Do you want me to brush my teeth ? Otherwise I have chewing gum."

"No. Throw that away. It tastes like plastic, it's disgusting."

If Matt had taken control of the bathroom, washing her every day himself and having changed all her beauty products, shower gel, shampoos, makeup and perfumes, he had also decided that the kitchen was his domain.

No, actually the whole apartment was his kingdom now. Y/N had surprised him several times touching the furniture, sitting on all possible seats, putting some of his things everywhere.

To mark his territory, again.

He had done the same when he came to her office. Foggy hadn't said anything, he had obviously done the same thing in their shared room back in Law School.

The whole apartment was therefore his, even if he hadn't officially moved in. But he was especially present in the bathroom and the kitchen. And the bedroom, of course. His silk sheets could attest to that. He also had a problem with textures.

Y/N didn't know if Matt really liked to cook. He was good at it, but that didn't mean he liked it.

It was rather that he had a very delicate palate, that he was very picky, and that he therefore preferred to do things himself so that they would be perfect. Besides, even if he could have smelled it, he couldn't risk someone trying to poison him.

The dishes were all successful and quite good. There was only one flaw.

"It's bland."

"It's perfect."

"Matt, this is bland." repeated Y/N trying not to laugh because he was already starting to pout. "No salt, pepper, spices, sauce ! Bland !"

"Perfect. For those who know how to appreciate. I didn't throw away the salt if you insist so much, you can do whatever you want on your plate Darling."

It wasn't quite true. There were food smells that Matt couldn't stand at all, even on her plate. So he decided to banish them. He had banned many foods.

If Y/N was mad at him and wanted to scare him away, all she had to do was open a packet of Doritos. So Matt was jumping out the window. If she wasn't really mad and was doing it for some other reason, he would take the package and throw it out. Then she was entitled to a new shower.

The other option when she was furious was music. Mainly rock n roll. Very loud. But there were several types of music that Matt couldn't stand. That didn't mean he couldn't listen to it at all, he seemed to enjoy certain operas, or instrumental pieces, if there weren't too many instruments at the same time. But most of the time he was covering his ears and growled until she stopped. That was nice of him, he could have done worse.

Foggy had explained to her that he had noise cancelling headphones when they were in Law school. And that didn't seem enough. Even when Foggy himself had headphones to listen to his 'barbarian music from hell'. Matt had broken his computer once, because he had been listening to AC/DC. Never listen to AC/DC in Murdock's presence. Foggy's advice.

Everyday Y/N tried to understand how sensitive Matt was to all those little things that she absolutely didn't notice. She sometimes asked him questions, but his answers were vague. So she had to be observant.

Being a very good lawyer, Y/N knew how to observe.

For example, contrary to what she had imagined the first time, Matt's super-developed senses made him dread sex.

He didn't hate it. But it was too much. Too many information at once. Too many smells, sounds, movements. And he felt a little vulnerable during the act. It was perhaps the worst of all.

Same with kisses. Matt didn't kiss with his tongue. Even if Y/N had impeccable hygiene, he could fell everything in her mouth, it wasn't very pleasant. What mattered was what the kiss represented.

A greeting. A love declaration. Excuses. A way to reassure himself.

On the lips, it was enough. He preferred to kiss the rest of her body.

And devour it... According to him, down there, she was sweet, the taste of paradise, with divine smells. Y/N didn't want to know. But once he started lapping up her entrance, it was hard to stop him.

And foreplay. Oh Matt was the god of foreplay. He seemed to like that part of the act. He could hear her heart racing with excitement. Her cheeks heat up. Her breathing become difficult. The little moans she was making were driving him crazy.

He liked to take all his time, to listen to her, to touch her, to smell her, to taste her, but her pleasure was the priority at the end.

There was also the after. When their bodies were pressed against each other, totally relaxed and he rested his head close to her heart, smiling because she smelled a perfect blend of their scents.

Matt had never told her any of this, but she wasn't blind. No puns intended.

Remembering something that Nice Matt had said, Y/N once wanted to know if he often listened to her heart. But, not just when they were together. Nice Matt had more or less stalked Foggy around town by listening to his heartbeats.

"You really can do that ? You… Have you ever done that with me ?"

"If I answer you, can you promise not to bring up the other me again ?"

"Deal."

"Good. Yes, darling. I can do that. And yes, I've done that with you, many times. If I want I can hear every hearts in town. It's a real cacophony. And if I focus, I can tell who is where if I know certain particular heartbeats. For example, Karen is at home. She's calm, she's fine. Otomo is in an alley, he's fighting."

"Wow, that's... unbelievable. And that's how you know people lie ? It's a bit like cheating in court. But since you cheat all the time, it doesn't change much."

"Oh darling." he purred, rubbing his head against hers. "Don't be a sore loser. I'm just using what nature gave me, it's not illegal."

She didn't ask him if he often listened to her heart when they weren't together. Certainly yes. To find out if she was okay. To relax too, perhaps.

As with her smell, when her heart didn't sound 'right', Matt was angry. He didn't like her to be nervous, scared, sad or sick. It wasn't really helping that he was angry. Matt wasn't very good at comforting and reassuring.

But Y/N could see he was trying. It was cute.

There was that day, that one day, when she saw him drunk. Normally Matt was always in control, he was very careful, he didn't take any risks.

And then, alcohol mixed badly with his senses. It made everything very blurry. Even blurrier than usual. More intense. So intense that Matt couldn't 'see' almost anything anymore, becoming almost... totally blind.

But during a meeting with clients, he had been drinking a little. Then some more. Then too much. It had been a miracle that he managed to leap from roof to roof all the way to Y/N's, falling out of the window and staggering over to her before falling into her arms.

"It was good. Darling, it was sooo good ! Usually alcohol is disgusting, but this was nice. Sweet. Kind of like you. I could eat you for hours, you know that ?"

"Yes, I know that, smooth talker. Take your clothes off and get into bed Matt."

"Oh, straight to the point. I like that darling."

"To sleep."

"Hmm. Nooooooo !" he muttered, grabbing her by the waist before dropping onto the couch, dragging her down with him. "Stay with me. Stay with me forever."

"Yeah, yeah. But let's get into bed first."

"You promise ? You won't leave me like the others ? Everyone I loved is gone. Well I think I loved them... I don't remember, it was a long time ago."

"Matt, come with me."

"Always darling. I'll follow you everywhere." swore the sleepy Matt, agreeing to get up to go to the bedroom, but still not letting go, like a giant koala. Even when he was asleep, he clung firmly. A real hugger.

Matt refused to talk about it the next morning. Y/N didn't tease him with it. She knew he had said and done things that meant a lot, and that saying and doing things that meant a lot was scary for him.

He still avoided her for several days. It was during this period that she noticed that some of her clothes were missing. They reappeared with Matt when he came back.

Y/N said nothing, imagining the Devil sleeping using one of her t-shirts as a comforter, to smell her scent, as he listened to her heart from afar to fall asleep. Probably purring.

"I don't purr."

"Of course not." she smiled, stroking him behind his ear, listening to the little contented purring sound he was making without realizing it.

Yes, Matt Murdock, The Kingpin, The Devil, The Ninja, was a big territorial cat.

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfic #Matt Murderdock #dark Matt #earth 65 #lawyer reader

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pastrnaks-sainz · 3 years

Text

Pasta’s Secret Wife

Pairing: David Pastrnak x reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You and David met in his rookie year when you traveled to Boston with the Capitals for a game. You never lost contact, and dated long distance until three years later David proposed. You were married in secret, no friends or family present. Nobody besides close family knew, not even your respective teams.

Request: Can you do one where the reader is an athletic trainer for the caps but is secretly married to Pasta and the team finds out at a bruins v caps game? (from anon)

A/N: okay I actually love this so much, nonny thank you ily

~~~~

Bergy had noticed the ring Pasta wore on his right ring finger; he just never said anything about it. He thought it might have had something to do with his father and never asked. He thought that for months until round one, game five.

“Do you know where Pasta is?” Bergy asked, adjusting his mask as he stepped up beside Marchy. “I haven’t seen him for a couple hours.”

“Last I saw him he was eating in the hotel café,” Marchy responded. “Why? What time is it?”

“Five minutes until we need to get on the bus,” Bergy answered, holding out his wrist so Marchy could see his watch.

“Oh,” Marchy said. “Oh that isn’t good.”

“No,” Patrice hummed, scanning the lobby for his missing line mate. “No it’s not.”

“Hey guys,” Pasta’s voice came from behind them, making them both turn around. “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up talking to someone.”

“You’re here now, it’s fine,” Bergy said with a smile and a shrug before shooting Brad a warning glare. Brad held up his hands in mock surrender and motioned for Patrice to follow Pasta out of the hotel.

The incident stayed in the back of Patrice’s mind up until he was putting his jersey on. It was unusual for Pasta to be late to leave. He made a mental note to talk to him about it after the game, but right now he needed to focus on winning and getting into round two.

Your mind was running wild. You had met with David at the hotel before the game like you did before every game the Bruins and Capitals played. Your meetings were typically brief, and you tried your best to blend in and not draw any attention to who you were with or, more importantly, who you were kissing.

“Y/N,” TJ snapped his fingers in front of your face. You shook your head, looking up from the wrap you were putting on his ankle. “Something’s up with you, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, securing the ace bandage and cleaning up your station. “Why do you ask?”

“Because when I said that aliens were invading at the end of the month you nodded and went ‘mhm’,” TJ folded his arms over his chest. He looked at you with an expecting gaze.

“Sorry,” you sighed, rubbing your face. “Just been really distracted lately.”

“Wanna talk?” he asked sincerely.

“Not right now,” you shook your head, turning to face him. “You should go get ready, you’ve got a big game.”

“Yeah,” TJ said, clearly not buying your answer as he left the training room.

You sighed deeply and grabbed the things you kept with you on the bench. You hoped the fast paced action of the game would be enough to keep you distracted from the conversation you’d had with your husband just two hours earlier, but you knew seeing him on the ice was just going to make you want to get out of Washington faster.

A couple weeks before the playoffs started you had made a deal with David. When the Capitals’ season was over you were going to join the Boston training staff. David had talked to the necessary people to make it happen and the last time you were in Boston you agreed to the terms. Now, with the Capitals facing elimination, it was seeming way too real way too quick.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to join him in Boston and finally be able to tell people about your marriage. You had just lived in Washington all your life and, while you were on the road a lot for your job, the thought of leaving for another city was daunting. David has assured you that the move to Boston wouldn’t be difficult and that he’d hold your hand the entire time. His words had soothed your worries some, but your mind was still going a million miles per hour.

You absentmindedly chewed on your gum as you stood on the bench. Despite the distraction, you were still looking for anything that might need your immediate attention.

In the first period when David scored you had to use all your self restraint to not cheer. You were thankful for the mask that hid your near giddy smile.

When the game was finally over you were relieved. Though you couldn't show it, you were happy the Capitals had lost. Now all that was left for you to do was turn in your Capitals gear and head over to the Boston side of the arena. Your boss knew you were leaving when the season ended weeks before the playoffs started. He was the only one who knew the true reason for your departure.

“Pasta!” Bergy called, jogging to catch up with his teammate who was already halfway down the hallway. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Yeah,” David nodded.

“What’s going on with you, man?” Patrice asked, folding his arms over his chest and looking at David with a concerned look. “You’ve been distracted all night, that’s not like you.”

David glanced over his shoulder to make sure there was no one around to hear what he had to say. He was about to tell Patrice everything when he saw you walking up to them behind Patrice. David instantly relaxed in your presence.

“Give me two seconds,” Pasta said, holding up a finger and darting over to take your hand. “I’m so happy you came.”

“You didn’t think I would?” you asked as David cupped your cheek in his hand. His blue eyes were casted down to your feet. “Baby, I was never not going to come to Boston with you. I just needed to turn in my stuff. Did you really think I wasn’t coming?”

“For a second I thought you might have decided to stay here,” he responded in a low voice, his accent thicker than normal. He shook his head as if he were clearing the doubts from his mind before taking your other hand. “Is it okay if we tell Patrice?”

You looked over his shoulder to where Patrice Bergeron was intently watching the interaction.

“Yes,” you nodded, your gaze flicking back to David. He smiled beneath his mask and led you over.

“Patrice, this is Y/N,” he introduced you. You shook Patrice’s hand as you clinged to David’s side. “My wife.”

“Wife?” Patrice asked, freezing as he dropped your hand. He glanced down to the ring on David’s finger and it all fell into place. Why he always disappeared for a couple hours whenever they were playing the Capitals. Why he started to leave team functions earlier. Why he was almost always alone when he was on the phone with someone.

“We got married in August,” David said, looking down at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“We didn’t tell anybody because we didn’t know what the reaction would be,” you said.

“First, as your captain, I want you to know you can tell me anything and I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to,” Patrice said, looking at David. “Second, it’s nice to finally meet you even though I had no idea you existed.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you laughed, already feeling welcome.

“So can I ask why you’re just telling us now?” Patrice asked, folding his arms once more.

“Well in March I finally realized that Washington wasn’t the place I wanted to be and that I wanted to be in Boston with David,” you said, looking up at your husband. “We had a conversation and we agreed that once the Capitals season was over I would join the Bruins training staff since there was an opening.”

“We kept it secret until the opening came up,” Pasta said, giving your hip a comforting squeeze. “I talked with the people here I needed to to make sure she got the job and she talked with her boss.”

“That sounds great,” Bergy shrugged his shoulders. “So why were you all distant before the game?”

“This series put a strain on the plan,” Pasta sighed. You rubbed his back, sensing his uneasiness.

“I didn’t want to look bad, leaving Washington for Boston when this series ended,” you said, interjecting so David didn’t need to speak. “I know nobody knows the training staff but if announcers got a hold of it we didn’t want me to look like I was jumping ship to Capitals fans.”

“Makes sense,” Patrice nodded.

“I think I’ve kept you a secret for too long,” David said, looking down at you. “Is everybody still in the locker room?”

“Yeah, they should all be there,” Patrice nodded, pushing himself off the wall and starting down the hallway. “I should give you a word of warning, Y/N, they can be a bit much sometimes.”

“I’m used to it,” you reassured him as Bruce Cassidy stepped out of the locker room.

“Good, I was just going to come look for you two,” he said before his gaze landed on you. “Y/N, I presume?”

“That’s me,” you nodded, shaking his hand.

“Welcome to Boston,” he said warmly. “Wanna get the paperwork out of the way then meet the team?”

“Sure,” you nodded, detaching yourself from David and following Bruce down the hallway.

“You picked a good one,” Patrice said, clapping David on the shoulder.

“I know I did,” David smiled to himself as he watched you step into an office, followed by Don Sweeney and Cam Neely. “I’m proud of her.”

“You should be,” Patrice nodded.

“I’m looking forward to working with you,” Bruce shook your hand as you parted ways with Neely and Sweeney and walked back towards where David and Patrice were waiting outside the locker room.

“So am I,” you agreed.

“Come on, let’s introduce you,” Patrice said, patting your shoulder and walking into the locker room. The team, once antsy with waiting, feel silent with the sudden presence of their coach, captain, teammate, and new girl.

“Thanks for waiting, boys,” Bruce started. “You all had a good game and I’m sorry for keeping you but I’d like to now hand it over to Bergy and Pasta, they have something to tell you.”

“As you guys know Nate had to leave the training staff a few months ago and we’ve been a little shorthanded,” Patrice started. You could feel the glances the team sent your way. “So I’d like to introduce Y/N as the newest member of the training staff.”

You nodded in thanks to the applause the team gave you.

“But I think Pasta might want to introduce her as someone else,” Patrice stepped aside.

“I would like to introduce Y/N as my wife,” Pasta ripped the bandage off. You braced yourself for whatever reaction the team might have. They were silent for a moment before Tuukka stood up, walked over, and all but yanked you from under David’s arm into a hug. The locker room erupted into what could only be described as chaos as the players jockeyed for a hug.

“Still think it was a good idea?” Patrice asked jokingly as he watched the scene unfold before him.

“Yup,” David nodded before going over and ripping you away from Jake.

“What the hell man? I wanted a hug!”

“I’ve decided that I’m the only one who gets to hug Y/N.”

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slightlymore · 4 years

Text

red

part of the ‘soulmates collection’

(slytherin) doyoung x (ravenclaw) fem reader

others: (gryffindor) haechan | renjun mentioned like once

warnings: oral f and m, penetration, unprotected, marking m receiving, body possessiveness in a magical way (? i made this up lol I hope its not that weird. like the plot point is a little cringy but I found it hilarious as I wrote it so I hope you don’t get mad at me when you discover what’s it about lol); a lot of bickering and insults; swearing

words: 9.5k (lol)

requested by anon that wanted academic fights turn into mad sex aha I got inspired by that to make a longer fic with more depth to it (if it's alright) hope you like it! this is one of my favourite pieces I’ve written so far!!!! 👀👅👀

_____

As the rays of the sun hit the announcement board, your eyes darted on the pages filled with small characters.

A little crowd of people started to chatter behind you, trying to see the ranking sheet as well, but no one dared to come close enough to push into you - the Ravenclaw Prefect.

“Renjun? Whose dick did you suck to get 6th?” a voice giggled before a loud smack transformed the airy laugh in a dramatic “ouch”. “Lee Haechan, I swear I’ll-” but you didn’t get to hear the rest as your vision got suddenly blurry with rage and your ears started to whistle when your shoulder got bumped forcing you to make a few ungraceful steps to the side.

“What’s that face for, YLN?”

You tightened your fists.

You could have recognized that annoying voice in a thousand others: Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin Prefect and the person you hated most in the whole universe.

“Ah, right,” he hit his fist on one palm turning his head with fakely widened eyes. “You’re second place. Again.”

You hated Kim Doyoung and everything that had to do with him.

His voice? Hideous.

The fragrance of the fabric softener on his clothes? Repugnant.

His favourite dishes at the cafeteria? Revolting.

His favourite authors? Idiots.

Everything reminded you of him and one time you had a literal meltdown in a supplies shop as every notebook and pen has been seen in his backpack at a certain point.

“I see that manners are still very difficult for you to master, Kim,” you spit out his last name.

Doyoung laughed. “I apologize profusely for not following useless societal rules such as manners the way your finite mind intends.”

An echo of little “ohh” surrounded you but abruptly stopped as you threw a venomous glance at the little crowd behind you.

“Is this what you’ve been doing to get in the first place? Not following the rules?” you cocked an eyebrow at Doyoung.

The tongue inside his cheek moved around for a few seconds before he crossed his arms on his chest and got closer until his feet clashed with yours.

You didn’t step back.

“Is this an accusation?”

You pursed your lips as if thinking and Doyoung let you put on the little theatre act before he could hear your “Maybe?”

A single dry and unamused scoff came out of his lips as his eyes stared you down from head to toes.

“So you’re resorting to - this?” he gestured vaguely. “You’re that bitter that you couldn’t keep your first place for two whole semesters now?”

“Oh? It hurt so badly the first time that you kept track of it, baby boy?” you cooed.

The new nickname threw him off for a split second and although he was quick to come back to his usual expression you noticed it and you smiled triumphantly.

The crowd was collectively holding its breath.

He opened his mouth to say probably something stupid as usual when the voice of the professor interrupted you and the spell got shattered.

“Come inside little roosters. Preserve that energy for the class debate.”

Previously silent to not miss a single exchange you had with Doyoung. everyone suddenly started to chat while making their way inside the classroom.

You both still didn’t move a single muscle, your eyes still trained on each other like predators. “I said-,” the professor clicked his fingers between your faces, “-come inside.”

_____

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

Your university was overall a good place with good and proficient rules. You followed them all and you enjoyed it. But there were also a few rules you suddenly realized you hated. Like the “your seat in the study room will be your seat for the rest of the semester and whoever seats in somebody else's seat during the year, said somebody can slash their shins”.

You would have loved to see Doyoung sitting at your place. His long legs could use some kicking. But unfortunately, something even worse happened.

He was sitting right in front of you.

“Why are you here?” you added, throwing your bag on the desk in front of him and making a few of his papers fly on the floor.

Doyoung sighed seeing his stuff gently falling around and raised his eyes with the most venomous smile he could pull off.

“The Gryffindor gentleman over there-” he indicated towards his previous’ semester desk, “took my seat so I had to find another one.”

You followed his pointed finger and spotted Lee Haechan in the midst of popping a chewing gum bubble.

He winked.

You rolled your eyes.

He made an obscene gesture revolving a tongue in the cheek and hand motions.

You returned the favour with your middle finger.

“And you had to sit here of all places. You let a Gryffindor snatch your place.”

Doyoung licked his lower lip before taking it inside his mouth for a moment.

“Miss ‘manners’ and miss ‘following the rules’ is mad that I, mister ‘fuck useless rules’ and fuck ‘useless manners’ didn’t smack a boy in the head to get a desk?”

You breathed in slowly and exhaled before you could scream at him.

“I don’t want to see you every day in front of me.”

Doyoung pinched the base of his nose before speaking.

“Listen, I also don’t want to see your face this close every day for a whole semester but it is what it is. All the other seats are taken. Stop whining or go and suck Lee’s dick to get his desk instead.”

You scoffed incredulously and plopped down with force, ignoring the boy’s sighs as the movement made some other papers fall.

"You're insufferable,” he whispered.

"I am insufferable?" you stopped taking the books from your bag then suddenly dropped the heaviest one, making the whole desk tremble.

Doyoung looked at you then smirked. "You're in a worse mood than usual. Is it because you couldn't reach the top?"

He leaned in as if about to share a secret. "Are you frustrated that I'm always in your mind 24/7?"

His dark eyes looked like two abysses and suddenly you felt like falling into them. Then he blinked once, slowly, and you blinked too, the sudden silence chatter of the study room bringing you to the surface.

Fuck Slytherins and their weird-ass magnetic eyes. You wanted to smack him in the fucking face.

"So I see you keep wanting to be ridiculous as always," you replied but you both realized how soft your tone got.

You cleared your throat - don’t talk to me anymore! it said - and you opened your books, eyes unable to look at Doyoung's face.

He got the hint and leaned back into his seat amused, playing with his pencil. It rolled on his fingers, then on his knuckles and when he placed it on the desk with sudden force you jolted.

"If you want to surpass me, stop staring at my hands and get on studying."

Doyoung had to slide away with his chair for you to not reach his throat and choke him.

_____

"So do you want to choke him with his tie or do you want him to choke you with his tie?" "I want to choke you." Haechan smirked. "I'm not sure I'm into that stuff but we can try it out." "I can't believe you did this to me." "Ah come on. Everyone is having fun. He's having fun. You're the only one taking it too seriously." "I am not taking it seriously. I'm just annoyed every time I see his face. 'The best option is to reinvent yourself'" you mocked Doyoung's voice during philosophy class. "You can reinvent the world first. What kind of selfish nonsense is that?" "Slytherin nonsense. But still, he had good points to his discourse- ahi." "Go and be his friend then." "I would, but I'm stuck here with you because--ahi."

"You're always getting hit, Lee," that voice interrupted your discourse.

You rolled your eyes and breathed out so heavily that for a split moment you thought someone transformed you into a horse.

"Hit on, by girls." "I will hit you too if you don't leave my desk," Doyoung smiled peacefully. "Well," Haechan got up slowly, "I wouldn't mind that either."

Doyoung bit his lower lip amused and to your absolute shock he winked at your friend. Haechan laughed and left you two alone.

"What was that?"

Doyoung sat down ready to get to work. "Huh?"

"Were you friendly just now?"

Doyoung blinked at you as if processing the question. "Yeah? I am friendly usually."

"Why are you not friendly with me?"

Doyoung's expression suddenly trembled on his face like a mask. He looked up surprised and for a split moment, he appeared weirdly younger, with his open lips and wide eyes. You stared at each other for a few seconds and it was the first time you didn't feel like opening up his guts.

But then he smiled and it all got back to you. "Because I hate you,” he explained.

_____

The ball was okay. A normal ball just like all of the other boring balls you were forced to attend each start of the semester. No alcohol, at least not offered from the university but definitely offered by the older students. All said students dressed well, but following the decency rules which led to boring outfits.

Your red dress was the boldest thing around and Ravenclaw cheered upon your entry in the Grand Hall.

A cool Prefect? Yeah, you had to be one if you wanted to beat Kim Doyoung.

At the moment everyone liked him more since he let his people smuggle liquor into the university but you weren’t about to fall to such low standards to win.

But food? Hell yeah.

It was not illegal and everyone wanted to have pizza instead of finger food made of hell knows what.

“Y/N, if you continue like this, I’ll probably fall in love with you,” a random dude smiled, helping himself. You smiled back at him, glad that cute guys wanted to talk to you.

“Well-,” you started, ready to bat your eyelashes, but the guy suddenly jolted, the piece of pizza he was holding literally flying from his hands and landing on his face instead.

You yelped, bringing your hands to your mouth in shock, staring at the way it slowly slid from his nose down on his impeccable white shirt.

“Shit,” he threw the pizza away on the bin at his right and made his way through the crowd with spicy tomato sauce in his eyes.

“You got all kinds of pizzas and not my favourite topping,” Doyoung suddenly materialized near you with a dramatic sigh, scaring the shit out of you. “You!” you turned your head to him and pointed your finger at his face. Doyoung stared at your fingertip then at your eyes. “You did that to the guy just now!”

The boy blinked at you as if you were crazy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shook his head but when he took a piece of pizza and started to munch on it, one hand waving at you and walking towards his friends, you noticed the way he smiled.

_____

A few hours later, people were scattered around the campus, most of them in bed “sleeping”, some of them actually already sleeping since it was almost morning.

The prefects were still in the hall, wrists twisting and eyes annoyed at the chore of having to clean up after the ball.

“It’s going to take you only half an hour, my children,” the headmistress chuckled brightly. “You’re prefects for a reason. Other children don’t have your advanced magical power and would end up cleaning for a whole day. Responsibilities. Am I right?”

“She could clean in 5 minutes yet here we are,” the Gryffindor prefect mumbled after she left, leaving behind an obnoxious perfume cloud.

If the ball would have at least been fun, it would be different now, cleaning while at least being a little euphoric.

But not only was it the most boring and uneventful party ever, you also had to do Kim Doyoung’s part since he was as slow as a snail.

“Get your shit together. We can clean much faster if you get your ass up,” you stared him down with hands on your hips.

Doyoung looked up at you from the chair he was sprawled on, one hand to sustain his head, the other twisting while his finger lazily transported a flying bottle of beer across the room.

“I am working.”

You scoffed. “You’re the best at object moving. If you wanted, you could also finish everything in 5 minutes.”

The boy tilted his head to the side, suddenly focused and amused. “Are my ears failing me, or did you just compliment me?”

“If you need my praise to do your job, then yes, Kim, you’re very good at this type of magic.”

Doyoung chuckled happily and got up. With a smack of his lips, he rolled his wrists and all the trash disappeared from the floors and tables appearing into the trash cans instead. The Hufflepuff prefect whistled, impressed, and the Gryffindor sighed upon realizing he had worked his ass off for nothing.

You put your tongue in your cheek annoyed but also secretly happy he actually did it. “Floors.”

Doyoung took out his tongue in the most annoying habit he had. Your eyes involuntarily darted towards it and he smiled.

“You’re such a snake when you do that.” “Okay, crow. Deal with your floors yourself then,” he passed you and walked towards the exit.

The other prefects already left, too tired to deal with your bickering and probably relieved that someone else could clean up much faster.

You stared at his back, annoyed, then twisted your wrist to pull his body back towards you. His black jacket moved as if a gentle breeze blew across him and Doyoung stopped.

“Wait, sorry-” he laughed and turned around, his voice echoing in the gigantic empty room ringing inside your skull. “-were you perhaps trying to do-” he twisted his wrist and you yelped, feet dragging across the pavement as if your body was being pulled by an invisible force until you clashed on his chest, “-this?” he finished.

Your hands were up on his shirt and for a few moments your brain couldn’t think anything besides, first, how good he smelled, and second, it was the first time for you to actually touch each other.

“If you’re so good at this, then clean the floors as well, so we can finally go.”

He stared you down.

“Ask nicely.”

You scoffed incredulously. “I’d rather clean it with my own hands than do that.”

He smiled. "You want to kiss me so badly, Y/N."

“I-- what? Are you drunk?”

“Why are you so flustered?”

“I am--not-” you grabbed the hand he raised to cup your face, “flustered! I am appalled.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Breathing has never been a difficulty for you and you’ve always laughed at main characters in books talking so extensively about air, but at that moment, your hand still holding Doyoung’s one, your chests pressing against each other and his eyes, fuck, you actually started to slightly pant. What was wrong with him?

“If you stopped using your snake powers-” “This is no power. It’s just you being attracted to me,” he finally cupped your face and this time you didn’t move away. “Check on it. You can pull away.”

He was right. But if that wasn’t some slytherin doing then you were probably going crazy because you saw your hands move almost on their own on Doyoung’s shoulders.

Then you actually leaned in and he met you halfway.

Your limbs were trembling when he brushed his lips on yours and to your surprise, they were warm and soft.

Then he pulled you even closer and you whined for no reason besides your brain yelling ‘this is so nice!!!! we love dopamine!!!’ at you.

And you sought for some more.

When you licked his lower lips, Doyoung’s hands had a tremor on your waist but he was quick to adjust to your sudden burst of passion with the same energy.

Of all the things that you anticipated that night, making out with Kim Doyoung was definitely not one of them. Then why you felt relieved as if finally doing somethig you’ve ached to do for so long?

Did he want to kiss you?

He was currently kissing you at that moment?

Absurd.

Yet there you were, panting and desperate for each other, unable to stop drinking each other’s breaths.

“I’m taking you to my room,” he whispered and the look in his eyes was something you��ve never seen before.

____

Suffocating.

You were suffocating as your breath was taken away from your lungs at Doyoung's every touch on your back.

First your neck with his cold knuckles, then your spine to reach the zip of your red dress. He opened it slowly imitating the pace of his soft lips on your jaw. And when the fabric fell to your feet you turned around, your arms quick to pull him into a messy kiss, while his hands fell on your hips, pushing you towards the silky bed.

You sat down and got quickly on your knees to be able to reach his face again.

Doyoung, standing near the edge of the bed, closed his eyes when you drifted your attention from his lips to his neck then chest, placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin every time you made a button pop open. His abdomen twitched every time and when you reached his navel you palmed his torso up, enjoying his shaky breath when the shirt fell off his shoulders.

A little chuckle coming from you made him look down at your sultry face, the hue of the red lights and lit candles dancing on your skin. Then he stared at his own body. Dozens of kisses adorned it in the colour of your lipstick.

"If I can't mark you, I can at least do this," you raised one eyebrow at him, hands gently dealing with his belt. "Who said you can't mark me?" "Hm?" you opened his pants zip and you could have sworn that Doyoung's eyes flickered. "You really want to go around all covered in hickeys?"

The boy smiled and cupped your face, his thumb slowly caressing your lower lip. "Do it where it can't be seen then."

So you let your tongue out on your amused lips and leaned down to reach the skin above the waistband of his underwear. Your tip wetted his skin making his take in a deep breath. "Is here alright?" you whispered against his warm body.

Doyoung's hand found his place on your nape and you took it as consensus, gingerly taking his skin inside your mouth and sucking on it. A red spot already started to form and you sucked again near it, and again, before suddenly placing a kiss on his clothed bulge instead.

Doyoung drank air through his teeth at the unexpected touch and his fingers got to your shoulders, pushing you into the bed before your legs could wrap around his waist.

His tongue inside your mouth was as delicious as the silk your body was rubbing against. It made its way down your neck then chest and when it reached your perked nipples your knees buckled and you grabbed that red silk with your fists. Little soft whimpers escaped your lips and they became louder as Doyoung's fingers got between your legs. They scratched the lace of your panties and you lifted your hips as he dragged them down. The boy, then, palmed your skin and placed open kisses on it from the ankle down and every touch closer made you lose a bit of your self-control.

You really were about to fuck Kim Doyoung.

What kind of sick and twisted situation was that?

Were you bewitched?

Did he do something to you?

But when his lips reached your dripping core, tongue quick to collect your juice, it didn't matter.

If this was the consequence of you getting bewitched, you wanted it to happen every day. And you told him. You hand gripped his hair and your back arched, profanities quickly spilling out of your chest. Doyoung cupped your ass, pressing his thumbs into your flesh and you let your thighs drape over his shoulders.

Why was he that good? It honestly offended you to find out that Kim Doyoung aced pussy eating too besides everything else.

And when he stopped to breathe, you saw his eyes and his juicy lips.

It was the sexiest view you’ve ever seen in your life so you yanked his head toward your face and he obliged with a panting smile.

Making out while his long fingers pumped inside of you was the highlight of your university career, and you cared about the curriculum a lot.

And when he curled them upwards, touching spots inside of you that made you lose vision, you were ready to beg him to do it to you as often as possible.

"Cumming- I'm--ah-"

Doyoung got back between your legs and added his tongue to the action again.

It was too much.

His books flew from his shelves as you reached the highest climax of your life.

He chuckled, peppering your shaking body in soft kisses. “I thought you weren’t good at object moving.” You breathed heavily a few more moments before finally finding your voice again. Doyoung reached your lips and you shivered upon feeling his hard cock resting between your legs. He stared at your expression as he lightly hit your oversensitive clit with its tip then rubbed himself between your folds with a sigh. “You’re the one good at moving, so please, move.” The boy bit your lower lip, stretching it out a little before sucking on it, one hand to cup your hip and the other grabbing the silk near your head. He got you so wet that he didn’t need much to easily slip inside of you. He cursed with heavy breath and you wondered if your nails were leaving marks on his back skin as he moved his hips.

You didn't have Doyoung only in your brain like usual, thinking about him day and night. You finally had him physically so deep inside that you thought you were about to lose your mind.

So this was it, the sweet overwhelming sensation of being in the present instead of chasing something in the future.

It was just like everyone described it to be, everything.

But it wasn't a moment in time or space as you’ve anticipated. It was a person and that person, you realized, was Doyoung.

If your mouth wasn’t busy spilling his name out of it inside his soft lips and if his hums didn’t make your whole being vibrate, you would have probably laughed at the destiny.

"You are, so fucking, hot-," you whispered breathlessly, eyes barely able to stay open to drink in his image. "So you admit it. You think I'm sexy," you could see his smirk even in the red darkness of his room. "I wouldn't let you ram into me like this if I thought otherwise." "Oh really? And yet I was here thinking you were doing charity since 'no girl would want to make my dick wet'." You chuckled before the sounds could get interrupted by your high moans instead, the frustration that phrase gave to Doyoung translating into his hips thrusting even harder. "I take that back." "Are you trying to say that you want me to slow down? You can’t take this?" "Oh, no, I love how you're fucking me as if you hate me." "But I don’t actually hate you”, you wished to hear at least for a split second but no word came out of the boy's lips, his hips slowing down instead as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

It was as good as his fast thrusts, his strokes so fluid and deep it made you grunt every time he pressed into you. He was so good that it irritated you.

"You really like to do the opposite of what I want, huh?" "Yeah," his voice inside your ear made your skin get goosebumps. “I love your frustrated expression and mannerism.” "Ah, shit-" you dug your nails into his back as the bed started to creak. "A good girl like you swearing like this? Who taught you?" "It's your influence." "Am I turning you bad?" "Yeah. Every time you're around I want to do bad things and I have no idea what's going on." You didn't expect to be that honest but Doyoung's intimate presence was like a drug, making you feel so high that you were ready to get twisted by him in every way he wanted.

No. You desired it. You wanted Doyoung to play with you and for once you would not resist it at all. You would beg for more.

And when he actually took you there, in a place where your thoughts did not exist anymore, where only his touch grounded you, the hand that pushed you over the edge and the one bringing you back up, you did just that. You asked for more, shaking uncontrollably on his luscious bed and he did what you wanted. For once he granted every wish you had and even beyond that.

_____

Your desire to leave his room that night was not as strong as you anticipated.

Doyoung arms didn't want to let go and you didn't fight him at all.

Sighing, you got back to his chest and didn't comment on the way he tightened his hold on you. If this wasn’t the way people-that-hate-each-other-but-like-to-weirdly-fuck-for-some-reason behaved, it would be a concern for your conscious mind and not for your fucked up one.

His scent was inebriating and if you didn't know the way he could make you feel, you would have thought that it was the highest form of aphrodisiac.

And maybe it was actually making you feel high because under your lids you could have sworn that the room slowly changed colour.

You opened your sleepy eyes and stared at the wall behind Doyoung’s shoulder, blinking hard.

It was dark blue, almost black, with a myriad of little bright lights.

The candles went out and the room did get dark after Doyoung rolled over breathless, his cum dripping slowly on your thigh, but you were pretty sure there were no stars before.

And when you shifted to rest on your back you almost choked on your own spit.

You weren’t looking at the night sky.

No. You were inside the sky.

Purple, whites, yellows and pinks all melted together to form galaxies and cosmic dust.

No roof, no walls, no pavements, just the bed, Doyoung and you in the middle of everything.

Your fingers dug into the arm Doyoung had thrown across your chest and perhaps you made some type of sound because the boy opened his eyes to stare at your profile. “Do you like it?” he murmured. Your head snapped towards his face and his eyes reflected the infinite little lights as if he held two other universes inside of them. “How is this possible?” He smiled sheepishly. “Slytherin rooms. They change based on the owner’s mood.” You felt your mouth open on its own. “This is your doing?” Doyoung hummed and closed his eyes again, pulling you towards him to hold you like before. You let him place his chin on top of your head and breathed in his scent yet again.

“So the red room?” “I was horny.” You smiled. “And how do you feel now?” “A little less horny. If I’m not careful you’ll see a whole star engulf us soon.” “This is so unfair. We don’t have such cool rooms.” “Or maybe you do but being Ravenclaws you’re all thinking of boring, brown looking rooms.”

You rolled your eyes even if he couldn’t see you and gently, you placed a hand on his chest, close to your face and above his heart. You could feel the calm and peaceful beats in syntony with the night sky. To know that inside that boy’s mind could be such beauty made your heart not beat as calmly as his heart did.

You had no idea what you were doing, hugging so intimately with your sworn enemy, and maybe it was the romantic vibe that made you do it since there was no rational explanation to any of it, but you raised your face to meet his lips.

And you just kissed him. Slowly and softly, barely brushing them with yours.

Doyoung opened his eyes for a moment, as if surprised, but upon feeling you pressing yourself on his body he closed them again and pulled you on top of him.

The universe didn’t change, although, when you let your tongue inside his mouth, slowly, as if having all the time in the world at your feet, the stars flickered and got brighter.

“Are you trying to see a star up close? I can make it happen without you rubbing yourself on me,” he smiled on your lips. “What happens when you suddenly lose control?” Doyoung’s pupils trembled and the room started to shake. You knew it wasn’t real but you still jolted and looked around terrified. “Let’s find out.”

_____

"I, saw, you, leave, with, Kim, Doyoung, last night," Haechan chanted teasingly as he sat down with his breakfast tray.

You wanted to keep a poker face but your facial muscles weren't under your control so you smiled.

"Oh!! Look at her! Oh my God. So- wow. Okay. Okay," Haechan tried to compose himself. "Is he any good?" he leaned in lowering his voice.

You sighed and nodded. "So fucking good."

Haechan squealed and hit your shoulder before wrapping it with one arm and wobbling you around.

"Stop it!" you hissed amused. "Everything hurts." "EVERYTHING HURTS! So he's got a monster cock."

"Shut up!" you pressed your hand on his mouth scandalized as Doyoung made his way inside the cafeteria with his friends.

You breathed in slowly and just as slowly you exhaled, trying to relax. Haechan made an effort to appear calm as well. "Sup, Kim." You smiled.

The other boy looked your way as he walked behind your table. "Hey, Lee," then he turned to you. "Y/L/N."

And left.

Just like that.

He looked at you for one second and continued on his way to the Slytherin tables.

No smile.

No acknowledgement.

Cold just like before.

As if nothing had happened.

You stared at his back, feeling your limbs heavy like stone. Turning around slowly, you grabbed your fork and started to eat in silence. "Hey." Haechan lightly bumped your arm with his shoulder. "He's probably just feeling awkward." You munched slowly and took it as an excuse to keep quiet. "Hey, come on." "What?" Haechan sighed. "You can say that you're disappointed that he-" "I don't know what you're talking about."

_____

For the first time, instead of feeling rage inside your gut, you felt anxious.

Doyoung was in front of you, face almost hidden under his hair as he typed into his computer. He greeted you as he usually did before the, well, before you let him see the deepest parts of you, figuratively and physically. But after that single “hey” no other words came from his part.

It wouldn't have been that weird if only a few hours ago he didn't kiss your lips in heaven.

When you woke up that morning, the night sky wasn’t there anymore. At his place were clouds. White fluffy clouds in the middle of a pink sky.

It was breathtaking and you felt like flying.

And he did kiss you softly.

And now he acted as if you weren't even there.

Maybe Haechan was right. Maybe he was feeling awkward. It's not like he could suddenly act lovingly in front of the whole campus. You were still enemies after all. And maybe you were also right.

You've just fucked. It's not like you started to date. He had no obligations towards you.

Yet, when his fingers drew your spine and his sigh caressed your lips, it didn't seem just fucking to you.

Was Doyoung like that? Was that his personality? Was he doing that to all the girls he brought into his room? Making them cum multiple times and showing them his soft side? Was that a well-plotted plan? Was he trying to hurt you?

You were ready to let him do whatever he wanted to you the previous night, yet at that moment, under the bright sunlight of the study room, you felt sick. It was a weird feeling. It grabbed at your throat and travelled down to your heart making it difficult for you to breathe.

You trusted him with your feelings and you let him see your vulnerable side.

Did he laugh? Was he feeling triumphant now? Did he win a battle against you? He had you on his palm? Because, God, he did have you on his palm now and with only a twist of his wrist he could get you into his arms again.

And you would have let him.

You hated it. You fell so hard it hurt everywhere. You were dizzy and confused and you couldn't look at him anymore.

_____

It was easy to avoid Doyoung for the following days. It was almost too easy as if he was trying to avoid you too. So walking towards the library you jolted hearing his low voice inside one of the classrooms. You stopped in place and after a few seconds of thinking you peeped inside. Then you gulped and hid under the door window.

He was resting his hips on the professor's desk, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed on his chest. In front of him was standing one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen.

She was talking with a peaceful tone and Doyoung suddenly laughed. You got up and quickly walked away.

_____

"How the fuck would I know?" the girl asked.

Doyoung rolled his eyes. "Your dad designed them. You must know more than me."

"Listen. We're the only house with mood rooms because we're the only people who can control their emotions. It's not my fault you're a terrible Slytherin and your room has been pitch black for the past days."

Doyoung sighed in irritation. "What the fuck does that even mean though?"

"Usually mourning."

The boy shook his head. "No one died."

"Then it can be a general pain. Or confusion," the girl explained.

Doyoung raised his gaze on her. "What would I be so confused about?"

She shrugged. "You're the only one that can know. Chill out maybe and stop thinking when you're inside of it. I'll ask my dad how to turn it off and I'll let you know. Now leave me alone, I'm busy," she said and left the classroom.

_____

"Hey," Doyoung said. "That's my pencil."

You looked down at your fingers and furrowed your eyebrows.

"No. This is mine."

The boy sighed. "I can sense it's mine."

"I legit bought it yesterday. And what are you? A psychic? 'I can sense it's mine'."

"I'm a Slytherin. We're snakes. Everything I lick is mine. And I can sense that's mine."

Your mouth opened slightly and you waited for him to laugh but Doyoung remained serious.

"That has to be a joke."

"Okay, keep it. It just makes me feel giddy when things I own are used by other people." "Because you're selfish." "It's a real sensation. I know when something I licked is being used by somebody else," and he raised his eyes on you. You stared back and the weight of his words made your throat close.

I hope it doesn't work with people too, you wanted to ask, but the noise on your left interrupted you.

"Can I talk to you?" the same girl from a few days ago suddenly made her appearance near your desk. Doyoung looked at her surprised. "Yeah." "Bring me to your room," she ordered.

_____

You shouldn't have been there.

It was useless and it would only make you further lose your mind.

But your feet descended the Slytherin corridor, nose following the trail of the girl's perfume until arriving at Doyoung’s door.

You remained still for a moment and after a few seconds of indecisiveness you suddenly turned around going back.

That was too creepy. You had absolutely no reason to be there. If Doyoung wanted to fuck that girl, so be it.

But then you stopped again.

Fuck.

Just, just a little glance. Just a tiny little glance. Just the colour. Just to be sure.

You didn't turn around to actually see anything. With your back towards the door, you twisted your wrist, doing the most illegal thing one can do inside the campus - transparency spell. A tiny portion of the wall disappeared at your silent command and you could see the red hue spilling outside of it on the dark pavement at your feet.

It was enough and you barely saw the stairs when you got out of the basement.

_____

"You weren't lying when you said it's pitch black. It even absorbs magic light."

Doyoung sighed.

The girl presumably turned around because Doyoung heard her voice more clearly when she spoke again.

"Okay, so this is what we're gonna do. Sit down somewhere and relax."

The boy let himself fall on the carpet with a grunt.

"Close your eyes."

He obliged even if he could have let them open too for all it mattered.

"Now, think of someone of your choice."

Doyoung's mind automatically drifted towards you and the room besides being dark, felt suddenly very cold as well.

"No, okay, Doyoung, change the person." "She's the only one I can think about." The girl sighed. "Well, at least we know the reason for all of this. God, it's so fucking cold, try to not think about anything for a second!"

"It's hard, okay?"

"Okay, fuck. Think about her but imagine something else. Think of a good memory you have with her."

Doyoung sighed irritated and furrowed his eyebrows even more. "I don't think this is going to work."

But when he let his mind imagine your panting expression underneath him, a slight red hue started to create from the floor going up to the walls.

The girl exulted. "Yes! Don't stop. Continue thinking about that!"

Doyoung opened up one eye as the girl exulted again and he could finally see the furniture in his room.

It was a dark red, not the bright red he actually had his room painted in when he held you into his arms, but enough for him to not get a headache 24/7.

"Well it's not like I can think about--that, every time I need to be in my room, can I?" he got up.

The girl knew what red meant and she chuckled.

"Don't you have any other good memory with her besides fucking?"

The room got bright red.

The girl laughed even harder.

"Ah, shut up." "Hey, I helped you out." "Barely," he plopped on the bed and put his face into his palms.

It could have been considered a gesture coming from embarrassment if the lights didn't start to get dim again.

"God, you're really all over the place, huh?" she sat near him. "What happened? Is she your ex?”

Doyoung sighed and directed his gaze upon an indistinct point in front of him. Maybe he was tired, or maybe it was the dark room and the fact that Doyoung didn’t even remember the girl’s name, making her a safe stranger, but he whispered.

"I made a mistake. I thought she was into me so-- fuck, I went down on her."

The girl made a surprised sound but waited for the most important part.

“Well, she’s not into me, but I am.”

"You're so stupid!"

"Yeah okay, thanks."

"We're Slytherins! It's not like we don't give head because we're prude, it's to prevent this! You horny dumbass." "I thought she liked me! I had no idea she'd- fuck someone else right after!" Doyoung grunted frustrated and fell back on the bed, the room getting to the pitch-black from before.

The girl let the silence calm him down a bit before talking.

"I am sorry. I had things used by others but I don't know what it feels like with people."

"It's not necessarily painful but- knowing the reason, it's just-"

"Yeah. You just have to let her go so the bond is receded. Like with things, you know?"

"It's easy to let go of a thing that's yours. How can I manage to let go of her?"

The girl sighed and remained in silence.

_____

You had no idea how you managed to remain seated in front of Doyoung that morning.

His complexion was paler than usual and his eyes were very tired. As if he didn't sleep enough last night. Or at all.

You had to breathe in and out slowly to ease the pain inside your stomach.

"You look terrible."

Doyoung's dark irises under his low lids made your skin crawl when he looked up at you.

"Is someone keeping you too active to get enough sleep?" you asked again, trying hard to get back to the tone you both were used to before.

The boy tightened his lips in a mockery smile. "Yeah. As discussed, I have no problem keeping my dick wet."

"Well-," you frowned with a raised chin, your lips forming a pout for a moment before you forced them to keep the poker face, "-I started to see someone lately too."

He looked unbothered. "As in dating or hallucinations?"

You ignored his comment.

“We’ve already been on three dates,” you lied.

“And you’re telling me this because-?”

You shrugged. “Conversation.”

“I hate small talk.”

“Is there something you don’t hate?”

“Silence. And smart people, which given your latest test results, you’re not.”

You had no idea what it was.

You and Doyoung had always called each other names, insulted each other’s intelligence and the sorts, yet at that moment, maybe because of your failing tests, the alignment of stars or the fact that you were actually in love with him, you burst into tears.

It took Doyoung a few good seconds to realize that you were wailing in front of him.

“Hey?”

He crouched on the desk to be able to see your face from underneath your arms. You hid it even more.

“Y/N,” he lowered his voice. It was as soft and delicate as when he whispered your name under the sky.

You suddenly took your stuff and ran away from the study room.

_____

Doyoung was slowly but surely losing his mind.

One day, two days, three days and you were still nowhere to be seen.

His room has been different shades of grey, which was better than black but now the walls had water running on them and the floor was constantly wet.

Altogether, not a good time.

“Holy shit, are you that depressed?”

Doyoung raised his eyes from the book he was reading before rolling them so far up that Haechan thought they wouldn’t come back anymore.

“What do you want?”

The Gryffindor took a step inside the room with hands behind his back and took a lazy stroll to where Doyoung’s dresser was crying. “Your flowers are all dead. Throw them away.” “They keep appearing every time,” Doyoung started to read again, the little line between his eyebrows showing how hard he tried to understand whatever the pages were trying to say but failing.

“I’m here because it’s boring to not have you yell at Y/N in the study room as always,” Haechan spoke again nonchalantly, fingers rubbing against each other, as to get rid of the imaginary dust they collected from Doyoung’s furniture. Given the situation, the room probably made up piles of mud as well.

"Who's the guy?" Doyoung suddenly asked.

Haechan furrowed his eyebrows. "What guy?"

"The one she's fucking."

The other blinked at him surprised.

"You mean, Kim Doyoung?"

The Slytherin's eyes widened and Haechan saw how he looked with flushed cheeks for the first time in his life.

"Aw, come on. Of course, I know everything."

"If you know everything, then tell me who the fuck this guy she's been fucking beside me is!" Doyoung got up from the bed.

"There's no other guy. What are you talking about?"

"Fuck, I felt it how he touched her and it drives me crazy!" Haechan opened his mouth to talk but jolted, eyes staring at Doyoung’s arm extended to hit the wall behind his head expecting to see a dent in the hard brick from how much force he put into that.

"Is it you?" “Uhm? What the fuck?” "Answer me." "Okay, first of all, take a step back."

Doyoung leaned in even more and Haechan gulped.

"Okay! Okay, gosh. No. There's no guy fucking her as far as I know."

"Where is she?" "I don't know." "What kind of friend are you if you don't know it?"

Haechan crossed his arms on his chest. "Am I seriously getting scolded on friendship values by Kim Doyoung right now? You that made her cry in the common room? You that made her rest her weapons in front of you just to see you treat her like scum? After using her? We don’t have mood rooms but we have things like hearts and mouths which we use to, you know, ask other people how they feel-" "I don't have enough patience and you know that."

Haechan breathed in and out before finally opening his lips again. "She's in the dorms. Obviously. Where the fuck would she be-"

Doyoung turned around on his heels like a tornado and walked towards the towers.

"She doesn't want to talk to you!" Haechan told the other boy's back but he wasn't sure he heard him.

_____

She doesn't want to talk to you.

Fuck it.

Doyoung knew he was self-centred and he knew that your absence had something to with him but for once he really wanted to be wrong.

Used you? You really thought Doyoung used you? When you used him and then got somebody else to touch you like that?

Fuck, if Doyoung were in his room at that moment it would probably resemble a killing storm.

"Hey, you can't be here," some random guy stopped him as Doyoung stepped into the Gryffindor common room. "How did you even enter-"

"Shut the fuck up."

Doyoung looked around, eyeing all of the different doors and chose left, venturing down the corridor, for once - and cringingly so - listening to his heart.

Haechan was right. You didn’t have real mood rooms but he could physically feel the energy of each and one of them with his heart.

He knew it was your door before even getting close to it, the feeling coming from it making his blood boil in his veins just like he would feel when you were around.

With a twist of his wrist, he tried to open it but it didn't work.

"Are you seriously trying to barge into a girl's room like that, Kim?" a scandalous voice said behind the door.

"How did you know it was me?" Doyoung placed one palm on the wood.

"Only you could force open a door without even knocking," you replied. "And the spell is made for you specifically, so I know."

The boy rested his forehead on the door and closed his eyes. "You were waiting for me."

The silence on the other side made him sigh. "Open up. Let me talk to you."

It got even quieter than before. "I wasn't waiting for you. You had no reasons to come," you finally whispered.

Doyoung twisted his wrist and the door in front of himself vanished from his eyes. Apparently, you didn't anticipate he'd be able to use the transparency spell since you didn't even preoccupy yourself to block it and he could tell you didn't even sense it, so concentrated on your thoughts. From your perspective the door was still there and, previously leaning against it with your back, you rolled on it now and unknowingly imitated Doyoung's position, foreheads almost touching if not for the layer of old wood.

"What do I have to say?" he asked, looking at your face. He saw how you bit your lower lip at the sound of his voice and the genuine sadness in your face made him even angrier at the whole situation. "You don't have to say anything," you finally replied.

Doyoung's jaw muscles tensed.

"Please, please, open this goddamn door."

The intensity of his voice made you raise your head and your senses got sharp again, feeling the energy he put into using his spell.

With the twist of your wrist, the door flew open and you finally saw Doyoung's face.

"You used transparency," you suddenly looked furious. “You know you can’t do that inside the university.” "Fuck, I was," he stepped in. "What if I was naked?" "Nothing I haven't seen before."

You rolled your eyes. "You make me so frustrated."

"I am making you frustrated? Then what about me, huh?"

"What would you even be frustrated about if you don't even care about me? You tease me and you insult me and then you make love to me like a desperate man and then you go back to being your selfish, deprecable self. What is this? Why do you keep playing with me? Is it fun? You find it amusing to see me like this?"

Your words completely floored him.

"I can ask you the same thing. I can feel it inside my chest when someone else touches you and it drives me fucking insane. I made a mistake and I gave in thinking you had some feelings for me and that I wasn't just a fuck toy you could use one night and throw away."

Your mouth fell open.

He could feel it? He could feel you? So you did belong to him?

"This is crazy. You hid something like this from me! Now you have access to what's going on with my body without my consent!"

"I had no idea I was in love with you, okay? It has never happened to me before. I don't want to know either when someone else eats you out! I just- you’re here hiding in your room and crying as if you have feelings for me or something when you let someone else-" he stopped.

You looked at his reddening neck and closed eyes.

His breath was shaky and you realized how you've never actually seen him angry or upset before.

"No one has done anything to me, Doyoung. Unlike you, who fucked that Slytherin girl after showing me the fucking heaven. Did you do that to her as well? Sweet talk? For what? Is this your hobby? Making girls fall in love with you?"

The boy shook his head in confusion."What are you talking about? There's no Slytherin girl."

"The one that had the urgency to see your room?"

He pinched the base of his nose with a grunt of realization. "She helped me to figure out why my room was pitch-black and why it's currently grey with wet fucking walls."

"Oh yeah? Because to me, it looked very much red."

"You've been spying on me?"

You huffed and sat down on the bed like a child when they're found guilty but they're too proud to admit it. "You used transparency just 5 minutes ago too,” you justified yourself as if you were equal now.

"And did you see me fuck that girl?"

"I didn't want to actually look inside like a creep! But you were pretty much horny. The corridor got all red."

"I was thinking about you! And now I’m also thinking about you and I’ve been thinking about you all of these days and months and probably all of these fucking years since I first met you.”

Your brain felt like mush.

"Then you knew? You treated me like that because you liked me? Only children tease the person they like."

"I didn’t know. I had no fucking idea before. And apparently, I am a fool for not having realized before and fuck, perhaps I’m a child as well then. I’m insecure. Because I wanted you to think about me too. And perhaps you don’t even remember but I’ve tried to be nice to you before and it didn’t work. But you started to give me attention when I made you mad. It was easy and playful and I saw how you often smiled when I turned my back to you and- fuck, I got hopeful. That you’d start to feel the same.”

“I do feel the same, for fuck’s sake! I am in love with you.”

Doyoung swallowed dryly. “Then why-”

“It was me.”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows.

“That morning after I left your room I took a shower, and-,” you looked around as if trying to find the courage to say what you had to say, “- I was thinking about you, so-”

Doyoung understood before you could finish the phrase and you saw his face fall.

“Wait, is it possible? Even if you do it?”

You scoffed incredulously. “You’re the Slytherin here. Until a few days ago I didn’t even know you had magical spit making you feel whatever I did to my own pussy!”

Doyoung closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as if he needed a moment.

“But I researched it when you told me about the pencil. It has to do with some weird-ass Slytherin shit where couples own each other’s bodies. Most people find it hot to know when the partner is-” you cleared your voice as it got suddenly tiny from talking about that shameful topic.

“So no, I did not let anyone touch me. If you were smart enough you would have noticed that it didn’t happen anymore after you treated me like shit.”

The boy looked as if his soul left his body.

The silence engulfed the whole room and you avoided each other’s eyes.

But then it got disrupted by his movements. With slow steps, he walked the space from the middle of the room to the feet of the bed where you were sat down.

With weak limbs, he let himself down on his knees in front of you and slowly he let his face fall into your lap.

Your breath fell short. With trembling hands, you caressed his nape, lightly as if afraid to touch him, then his hair, patting it gently.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool this whole time. Like, I am so stupid.” His voice was muffled by your clothes and his arms wrapped your waist even more while saying it.

“You’re the smartest person I know. But you could’ve just asked instead of assuming.”

He shook his head. “Yeah. Hey Y/N, so I can feel inside my gut that you orgasmed hard just now. Who did it? I thought you liked me.”

He raised his head again, his hair messy on the forehead, eyes lit up by the sun coming from your big windows and violent red cheeks. He looked young and vulnerable and suddenly the whole situation seemed so ridiculous that you laughed.

“I am sorry,” you chuckled and cupped his face. “You’re right. It was a weird situation. We should work on communication. And you should work on not being so insecure.” “You also assumed I fucked a girl just because I was talking to her.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. We both have to work on that, alright?”

He sighed relieved seeing you smile.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about that whole thing before. But I swear, I had no idea my feelings for you were that deep.” “Does it not work with mere crushes?” He shook his head.

"Well, do you know what I want now? For you to obtain my forgiveness?" you asked. "Me to kiss you." You flicked his head. "You will never drop that attitude of yours, will you?" He smiled even more. "I love to see you like this."

“I want something else,” you explained. Doyoung turned his head to the side. “Me eating you out?”

“Oh my God! No!” you tried to get away from his hold but he pushed you back on the bed and crawled beside you. “But that pussy is mine-” “Shut up!! Don’t say that ever again! You still need to apologize some more for that. Now I can’t even masturbate.” “You don’t need to masturbate if you have me.” “I fucking hate you so much.” “I love you too. So what was the thing that you wanted?”

“It’s just-- it’s unfair. So I-- also want to know.” “You want to own my cock?” he chuckled in the crook of your neck. “Why do you really have to use such words?!”

“You can do it. You just need to go down on me too.” “Even if I’m not a slytherin?” “If you’re in love with your slytherin partner, you don’t need to be one to be tied to them like that.” “Pants off then. Now.” _____

Haechan walked through Doyoung’s room with a chuckle, trying hard to avoid all the flowers that suddenly started to grow tall until reaching the ceiling.

With the corner of his eyes he also noticed the way all of them started to turn red and with a disgusted face, he moved faster, exiting it and closing the door behind him.

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