#In Healing There is Also Toxicity (X-Men AU) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

binniesthighs · 4 years

Text

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

a/n: this chapter is one that is very special to me and really echoes a lot of the same feelings that I’ve experienced through the years. writing this chapter felt really healing for me, as I hope maybe it can to you who might’ve felt the same. Because of this, please read the warnings below and read what you feel comfortable with! Remember that no matter who you are, or what you’ve gone through you absolutely deserve love!!

Part 5

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst

Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, skz side characters, bestfriend!chan, bestfriend!felix, explicit language, HARD angst to FLUFFY fluff, mentions of alcohol, fingering (f receiving), squirting, dry humping, nipple play, protected sex, fluffy sex, cockwarming

CWs: implications of jealousy and possession (past), non-con pressure, fist fighting, quite a bit of blood, bruises, and other wounds, mentions of a scar, mentions of past toxic relationship, mentions of nausea, mentions of low self worth and self deprecating habits

Word count: 8.7k (grab a blanket, your plushie, some fuzzy socks...also I promise no other chapter will be this long LOL)

Chapters

-Two years ago, and some change-

Tonight was different. It could have been for a number of reasons. Maybe it was the way that he held onto your hand tighter than he usually did. You swayed your body next to his like you thought that you should have been doing. If you hadn’t you would have looked out of place. He hated when you looked out of place. The skimpy dress you had worn that night was just for him. You thought that he would like the way that the straps barely clung to your shoulders and the way that it was snug against your curves.

He was watchful. Silent. You had known him to be a generally loud and gregarious person. He had many friends. Many of his friends you really did like; but, there were others that you had liked less...the friends with wandering and judging eyes.

“Why her?” They would ask.

“You could do better.” They would whisper in his ear when they thought that you couldn’t hear.

“Isn’t she...boring?”

“Not boring when I’ve got her alone.”

The club was full of people; a suffocating amount. Bodies thrashed up against eachother in all their sweating heat. Shiny polyester and the tulle ruffles of shirts scratched against your skin in passing. Under the line of sight, no one could see where hands might reach or creep in the dark corners of that room. With the music blasting, no one could hearo f the sinful desires whispered from ear to ear.

“Don’t you want to get outta here?” He had craned down to give you his message.

“W-why don’t we just dance? I like this song.”

“But we’ve been here for so long.” His hand gripped tight on your arm. “Really. Let’s get out of here.”

“But--”

“Let’s bounce. I don’t wanna be here any more. Let’s go have fun somewhere else.”

Fear rose in your throat. His tone had changed to the one that you had been trying to keep at bay for weeks.

“Baby, I’m having fun!” You tugged back at your arm which he hadn’t released. Your brain worked quickly, and you did what you thought would’ve been distracting enough. You kissed him.

Hard and fast you shoved your tongue down his throat in ways that you only would do when it had been the two of you alone. The music was loud. No one could hear the way he forced a moan into your mouth. Your hands wove deeply into his hair that was swathed in that cologne of his that was dizzying. It was saltwater and cinnamon.

Your body pressed up flat against his chest and, as expected, he threw his arms back around you and kissed back with the same fervency that you tried to drench him in.

Your words were breathless. “Can we...stay?”

“Baby, how can you say that when you kissed me like that? God, if I could screw you right here and now...”

His friends had been watching. Or pretending not to watch. It was no lie that their eyes had been peeping from the corners.

“Let’s get some more drinks then? Hm? Maybe later we can head back to your--”

“--NO! I want you now.” His words were violent, and his hands starved in his feverish way, yet still, he sucked his devilish smile into your neck. “Baby, please.”

Just a few more drinks. That was all that it would take. Just a few more drinks and he would be a stumbling mess. He would forget his name and you and then he wouldn’t be able to take you anywhere. You loathed yourself for feeling that way, but it was the only solution you could think of.

“Let’s go out back. No one walks down that alley, you know so.”

A nervous laugh slipped off of your lips. “I-I know, but--it’s so cold outside, it’s snowing an-and it won’t be comfortable--”

“--I don’t need comfortable, I just need you.”

Lazily, his eyes met with one of his friendsand he flicked his finger to beckon him over. “You. Come with us. We’re gonna need someone to watch the door.”

His friend scoffed and shoved his glass into the hands of a stranger. “Fine. What are you gonna pay me back with?”

“I dunno, I’ll think of that later.”

Your arm wiggled, a slight attempt to free yourself of his grasp. “Babe, babe, come on. I-it’s risky, an-and--”

“--And what?!”

“I-I don’t...I don’t...”

“Babe I thought you liked it when we did risky stuff? Remember last week? The bathroom? You liked that didn’t you?”

“That-that was different.”

Above your heads the speakers boomed with a bass drop that you could feel vibrate in your chest. Strobe lights of dozens of different colors blinded your vision. Your head panged with a pain that must’ve been the alcohol, but with each passing second, you felt more and more lightheaded. Air just barely escaped from your lungs and your lungs felt like dead weight.

His voice had been muffled. Your feet started taking steps that didn’t feel like they were their own. He used his body mass to part the sea of bodies, drawing you farther and farther away from it all. The two men chuckled as you neared the back of the building where the haze from the stage seemed to accumulate.

“Stand right at this door and don’t let anyone get out from it. Don’t leave until we come back in.”

His friend rolled his eyes, then took out his showy looking pen to take a long drag. He blew it into the other man’s face. “Have fun you two.”

The cold winter air stung at your dry lungs. You realized then that you had forgotten your coat inside. Under your feet, flaky and white snow had mixed in potholes which had filled with iridescent oil. Together, the only thing that you could think of in that moment was how the two colors and mixed. In no way where they similar: one, black and slick, the other soft and pure. They made no sense.

“Ohhhh...Baby.”

His breath was hot and it steamed in the air like some kind of deadly and wispy poison. His hands were big. Much bigger than yours, and they seemed to wrap you all up in them. They were magnets to your hips which fell into them with ease. He must’ve been cold too you figured: goosebumps formed on his arms where the falling snow fell on them.

“You’re all mine. No one else’s. Don’t you ever forget that. Tell me. Who’s baby are you?”

“Y-yours.” Your voice trembled.

“That’s right.”

His freezing hands swept up both sides of your face and you prayed that he couldn’t feel the tears stream from your eyes to his fingers. All at once, you felt nauseous, you felt sick, shame, rage, embarrassment and fear. With the adrenaline pumping in your ears, you did something even you didn’t expect.

“S-stop.”

His mouth continued lapping over yours, even your words which you repeated,

“Stop!”

“Baby, we’re just getting started!” Frigid fingers crept up your shirt to your bare skin.

“I SAID STOP!”

You had bitten his lip, and the metallic taste of his blood dripped onto your lip.

“You bitch!” He stumbled, then wiped the blood to his finger.

Hot tears fell freely, and your body shook: perhaps it was the cold, or your fright, but it shook every part of you.

“What the fuck?!” He rose his hand in the air, “Who the fuck to you think--”

“--HEY!”

A voice echoed down the alley and bounced off the brick walls. He was a black outline, but it was undoubtedly him who had shouted. He was still, but all at once he started running, sprinting towards you and you cowered to the snow.

“Don’t you fucking--”

The other man ran right up to the both of you. He was shorter, but crashed into the other taller man with a fist raised. He nearly had to jump a little, but he had knocked him square in the face with a horrible fleshy sounding thud.

He finished his sentence, “-Don’t you fucking touch her!”

The shorter man rubbed at his knuckles which had bloodied quickly. Your boyfriend had slipped on the ice a few steps back, falling to the ground clumsily and wetting it from the blood dripping from his mouth and nose. He laughed incredulously.

“You pack quite a punch for a little guy don’t you? Well, you picked the wrong fight--”

He rose to his feet with fists raised, then took a swing at the other man. He was agile, and ducked with ease, then twisted around the taller’s body to punch into his ribs. Still he didn’t miss each punch, and your boyfriend landed hits to his face as well. The stranger fell to the ground this time, groaning out and splashing into the cotton snow. While he was down, the taller man kicked into his sides.

“How do you like that? Huh??? You have no FUCKING RIGHT. This is between me and my girlfriend, so, fuck. off.”

The stranger spat blood to the white snow. “A-actually, I did have a right.”

“What was that??” He kicked harder.

“You-you were going to hit her? Weren’t you? Who the hell hits their girlfriend?”

In one motion, the shorter man was back up on his feet, stumbling, but still swinging. He was weaker, but still punched into the taller man’s sides relentlessly. The two men sparred, and you felt frozen. It was as if you weren’t even breathing.

Stop. Stop. Stop. Your thoughts rang, but your voice couldn’t muster it.

“You’re the fucking--” Punch. “--Scum--” Punch. “--Of the--” Punch. “--Earth.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes had become bloodshot red. In a mix of furious arms, he had scraped his wristwatch against the other man who cried out with a horrible sounding whimper, and then a flash of red started to flow down his arm.

Your dress had soaked through with the freezing cold water and you had nearly buried your eyes into your arms. Never had you felt so small, so helpless.

“HEY! What’s going on down here?”

A flash of blue and red lights lit up the pitch black alley.

“What’s going on??”

The policeman’s voice buzzed over the loudspeaker on his car.

The shorter man was a crumple on the ground and he hissed out with pain from his teeth. His arm quivered with pain from the gash that had been pressed into it. By contrast, the peaceful snow fell lightly onto his body and got tangled into his curled, dark hair. Your boyfriend; you hadn’t even seen him turn to sprint down the opposite side of the alley.

Regardless, the stranger still managed, “Ar-are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Your dry and tear-stained cheeks crinkled. “N-no. He didn’t.”

“T-that’s good. Listen, I-I need to go. I can’t afford for them to take me. Ask them to help you and take you home.

The clink of the policeman’s keys on his hip jingled as he neared.

“I’m sorry I have to run.” He stumbled to his feet. For a few seconds, you could see his eyes under the flickering yellow streetlight. They weren’t brown or black, but some kind of dark stormy grey.

He went running down the alley, as fast as he could manage with a limp to his leg and his dripping arm creating a trail behind him.

As he ran, he left behind him a scent, foreign in the winter air. You couldn’t name it exactly, but you had guessed at least for then, it might’ve been something like rosemary and cedarwood.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

2am, and you felt euphoric. Like a fucking cloud. Even though it was typical, there really were no other words that could describe it.

Felix and Chan bumped their hips against yours while they danced in the rhythm of the song that the DJ had played. Both of their bright smiles were utterly adorable, and the three of you doubled over in your laughter at each other’s terribly awkward dance moves. Chan made his best attempt at the robot, and Felix busted out some of his favorite internet dances. You rose your hand to the side of your face as if to say I don’t know them. Felix’s tiny hands interlaced into yours and you danced with him too while Chan mimed throwing dollar bills into the air.

“How much longer?” You yelled over the music until it scratched your throat.

“I don’t know! I didn’t get a chance to look at the line up!” Chan’s body bumped up against others in the crowd while he tried to check is phone. “It’s fine! I’m sure he should be coming on soon!”

You couldn’t remember the last time that you had been to a show that wasn’t to see Jisung. It was strange thinking about all of the things you used to worry about when you had gone to see him in the past: was your outfit sexy enough, had you remembered to put on your lip gloss...you’d even worry over stupid shit like if you had missed any spot on your legs while shaving.

None of those worries filled you now. The clothes that you had put on in your haste made little sense, and were a bit warm in the room where sweat practically dripped from the walls. You had even left your apartment in such a hurry--you had been working on a new piece from a spark of inspiration during midday.

“He said that he was going near the end I think!!” You informed your friends.

Chan did a little excited dance. You didn’t know if he was more thrilled over the fact that he was there or how you had promised to introduce him to Changbin after the show.

The lights shifted, turning from pink to blue, and the music faded too. Your beating heart slowed as the atmosphere changed and Felix clawed back onto your arm.

“Oh my God!!! I think that it’s gonna be him!!!” Chan nearly leapt into the air.

It was frightening how familiar it all felt; you felt as if you had been transported right to that first night, the night that you had met him and the night that he had entranced you up on that stage. Everything in the room darkened, and the smoke slithered onto the stage. Everyone had quieted with their focus narrowing on the empty expanse that had been set up all for him.

To the side of the stage, the announcer chuckled into the mic, “Ladies and Gents, as you know him...SPEAR B!”

Music erupted like a crack of lighting over the speakers and was so sudden that nearly everyone in the crowd jumped out of their skin. The spotlights flooded the stage in a blinding white light, and before your eyes could process it, he had thrown himself to centerstage with some kind of magic or trick of the eye. It was so confusing, all you could do was stand in shock.

Rapid fire lyrics flew off his tongue with lightspeed, and he carried himself around the stage with as much regality as a king. His hooded eyes held nothing but concentration at each of his words, and he threw his arms around with emphasis so you could hang onto every single syllable. He shone under the lights where he had adorned himself in his favorite array of silver and crystal jewelry: his trademark chain around his neck blinked like diamonds. Every curve of the muscles on his thick arms and thighs tensed and the vein on the side of his neck flared as he spoke. With a bite to his lip and an indulgent smile, he owned very single part of his own world.

He was fucking mesmerizing.

Felix and Chan were wildly flapping their bodies around and thrashing their heads along with every other body in the crowd, but you had stood still. It was unbelievable that you had been close to him. All your memories of him holding you softly in his arms, planting kisses into every tender inch of your skin seemed so far away, but so close. He couldn’t have been the same person.

Your heart swelled with a pain. It might’ve been warning, precautionary, or fearful. Or, it might’ve been warm, intoxicated, infatuated. Your own mind couldn’t comprehend it.

Over the hundreds of eyes in the crowd, somehow, he had found yours, and it was just as that first night had been. He was so massive, so crushing. His confidence was something so addictive and his gaze so thick that you felt as if it was crushing. Still, there was one thing that was different about it now.

He knew you. He wasn’t just some stranger.

He knew your ins and outs, he knew your fears, the way that you would shy away from him or how you would lean into him closer. After that one meeting, you had encompassed everything that he could imagine, as he did for you.

You had started as strangers, but now you couldn’t even imagine a time when you weren’t.

He had broken his composure for mere seconds to smile at you. It was a simple: I see you. And you see me.

It was cliché. Fucking cheesy as hell. God, it was sugary sweet and rotten; a phrase you hadn’t said in a year or more. But, with the dozens of other girls screaming it in that room, bumping with bodies and bass ringing, condensation on the walls and music louder than your own voice, you joined the cacophony. Even if he couldn’t hear you screamed the words with your whole chest:

“I FUCKING LOVE YOU SEO CHANGBIN!”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

The music had subsided, and the stage lit to normal as the stagehands switched around the arrangement for the next act. You and your two friends were out of breath and exhausted. Sweat beaded on all of your brows and you felt it dripping down your back as well. The three of you stood laughing out in your euphoria: it as a high like none other.

“Damn. Why do I really want ice cream right now?” Felix huffed out his laugher and slung Chan under his arm. “Doesn’t that sound like a really good idea?”

Chan whipped the damp strands of hair from his eyes. “That does sound like a really good idea. But...you think any places will be open?”

With surprised glances, the three of you burst out hysterically.

You wiped an exhilarated tear from your eye, “We’d have to go to the store.”

Somehow, it was the funniest thing that you could have said and Felix and Chan held their sides in their laughter.

“Do-do you think that Changbin would want to come with us?” Felix helped fix your sweater which had become a bit ajar on your frame.

“I don’t see why not.”

Chan did another adorable little dance. “Holy hell. I can ask him about his process!!!.” He scooped you up into a tight hug. “This is so exciting!!!!!”

“Just don’t...scare him away.” You patted into Chan’s hair with adoration.

“He should be back out any minute right? He said he would come looking for you?”

You nodded, feeling your heart start to race at the prospect. You hadn’t felt this giddy about the attention in a while--not at least, attention that had been given to you without a condition.

Behind your little group, you felt a tug on your wrist, then your cheeks swelled with warmth.

“Chang--”

“--Holy fuck! You actually came!!”

Jisung’s eyes lit up and an inhumanely wide smile spread across his face.

“...Jisung--”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it, you actually came! Shit, I really thought that after we talked the other day that--”

Chan ripped Jisung’s grip from your wrist. “You better cut that out.” Once as giddy as he was before, his expression had turned deadly serious.

“What are you doing here?” Felix pushed you slightly behind him.

“Performing? This is my show too. I’m on in thirty. You’re here to see me too?”

“Like hell we are.” Chan rolled his eyes.

Jisung chose to ignore him, bringing his attention back to you.

“B-baby, thank you so much for coming, and for giving me another chance--”

“--Another chance? Y/n, what is he talking about?” Felix asked, then both of your friends eyes were on yours.

A knot formed back up in your throat with your decisions that you had let hang since you had las spoken to Jisung. You thought you had been clear enough to him, and you had told your friends you had thought that you had ended it.

Chan huffed out an authoritative sigh, “We’re leaving. Come on,” he wrapped an arm around both you and Felix. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“No! Wait! Y/n don’t leave! Let-let’s talk about this, y-you never let me see you any more, I’ve been missing you...missing you like crazy,” His grip reached out to you once more, pulling your whole arm closer to him with a pain that panged in your shoulder. “--since you’re here...let’s just talk this out okay?”

The music in the room grew louder once more, and the next act entered the stage with the announcer’s enthusiastic voice. The lights flashed out, and suddenly all of your bodies were bathed in red, pink, and blue light.

Another memory, from another night, flashed before your eyes. He held onto your arm tighter than he usually did. His incessant eyes pleaded over to yours like he had countless times before.

“Jisung, stop.”

“I-I just don’t understand! Let’s not do this here! Can’t we go somewhere private where the two of us can talk? Baby--”

Another hand grasped at your opposite arm, then it snuck around your waist.

“--What the hell do you think you’re doing to her?”

Changbin pulled you into his chest with a force that knocked the wind out of your lungs, then he immediately inspected the arm where the other had grabbed you so tightly.

“Did he hurt you? Let me see.”

Chan and Felix’s eyes widened in their shock.

Jisung pushed himself closer. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing Changbin? Don’t get involved in this, it doesn’t concern you.”

“Actually, yes, it does.”

Everything was unfolding before your eyes, and you felt faint. All the secrets, lies, the way that you had entangled yourself in it all, was crushing you like vines with thorns. Your fear bit bile in your throat, and you couldn’t decide if you felt strong enough to run.

Before you could say anything about it, Changbin pulled you out from the crowd, faster than your wobbling legs could handle. He was furious, you could tell, but he tried his best not to let it seep over to you. Changbin muttered curses under his breath, but pushed forward, past the dancing bodies, past the stage, past the maze of speakers and other sound equipment in the back.

“Let’s just get out of here okay?” His fingers dug into your waist.

Behind you, Felix and Chan shoved their way a few paces behind, ultimately getting caught in the web of people moving this way and that. Not far behind them, was Jisung thrashing with all his might to catch up.

With your heartbeat in your ears, words started spilling out from your mouth:

“Changbin, I didn’t tell you--I-I still haven’t told you, but you need to know before--”

Changbin swung the back door to the venue and it slammed behind you with a metallic clang. It was nearly blizzarding outside, but he didn’t seem to care at all. Rather, he pulled you back into his chest to hug you tightly. He was desperate in the way that he hung onto your body; like he was trying to suck the very life from you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you? I’m so sorry I couldn’t get there sooner. He’s a fucking dick, I won’t let him touch you again, I promise.”

Your nose clogged immediately, and your sobs came out choked and full of utter fear.

I’m going to loose him. I’ll lose him. He’ll hate me. He’ll let go, and never come back.

“Chang-Changbin...Jisung, he was--”

“Beautiful, why are you crying? Stop, stop, it’s okay.” He soothed you, wiping the tears from your cheeks that got muddled with snow. He too had snow clinging to his eyelashes and his hair that was also strung with sweat.

The back door swung open with another startling clank, and Jisung threw himself out of it with Felix and Chan holding him back by the arms.

“HE DOESN’T EVEN FUCKING KNOW HER!” Jisung screeched, then tore free of both of your friends.

He lunged himself at Changbin who had seconds to respond. He turned his back to shield you with his body, and Jisung clawed with an animalistic energy.

“HE DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW HER!” Jisung had been sobbing too, then swung a haphazard fist to Changbin’s back.

Felix and Chan came rushing to catch you as you fell into their arms, then Changbin swiftly turned to return the hit.

“Me?? You’re fucking crazy!!” He dodged another hit. “What the hell do you know about her?? Huh? YOU don’t know a thing about her!!”

Jisung wiped his eyes then threw another lazy punch. “What are you talking about???”

The two men stood still, both of them turning to turning to look at you with heaving chests. In your friends arms you trembled, and your worst nightmares unfolded right in front of your face. Your body fell to the ground, and the snow seeped into your clothes, just as it did on that night so long ago.

“Holy shit.” Jisung grabbed both sides of his head in his realization. “She fucking played us. SHE FUCKING PLAYED ME.”

Changbin cast his eyes away from you, just as he had when he had barely known a thing about you. He wouldn’t give you the pleasure.

“You were fucking her too, weren’t you?” Jisung laughed out like a madman. “So that’s what she’s been doing this whole time I haven’t seen her. She’s been fucking you and--”

Changbin’s fist rose, and it came crashing into the side of Jisung’s face so suddenly that you and your friends jumped from how fast he had done it.

He said nothing, but proceeded to raise his fist again, then sent it right back into the soft of Jisung’s cheek before he had a minute to respond to the first. Jisung whimpered, then spat blood out of his mouth. His tears had returned, but this time, they were infused in his own anger. The two boys steadied their stance, looking into each other’s eyes with lethal rage. Jisung attacked back with a yell that echoed through the alley, and he too landed punches to Changbin’s sides in sharp hooks. Changbin then grabbed the other man’s shirt collar, pulling him close, then knocking him back with red and bloody fists.

The two boys scuffled and slipped in the snow which had slicked on the ground to make each of their steps clumsy. Jisung sobbed through each of his punches, whereas Changbin held his teeth shut with a grit, merely grunting as he swung more and more. Your own tears blurred your vision, and your chest felt tight; nearly like it was about to burst. Your friends clung to your body just as tight, hushing to you and yelling at the boys to stop, but their voices sounded distant and faint.

Jisung landed punch to Changbin’s eye which split the skin there on his eyebrow. Changbin returned the favor in the same spot, creating the same effect. With crackled lips they swore at eachother, and you could only make out one phrase from Changbin’s mouth:

“Don’t you. Fucking. Touch her.”

The door swung, “Changbin?”

Minho hugged his coat around himself, only to jump out of his skin at the scene in front of him. He dodged two of Jisung’s swings as he clambered over to his roommate to hold him back. He was nearly two seconds late: with a roar, the two boys landed terrible blows at eachother, knocking them both to the ground.

“‘Bin--stop, STOP!” Minho wrapped his arms around his friend.

Just as he did, two other boys exited from the venue: one of them tall with long black hair and the other with hair as white as the snow.

“Fuck you.” Jisung growled dizzily, and his two friends swooped in to help him back to his feet. They too looked furious, but Jisung waved them off groggily. “Don’t w-waste your fucking time. Y-you--” He pointed directly at Changbin. “D-don’t waste your time...on her. I-I’m such a fucking fool.”

“Sung, let’s get out of here.” Jisung’s tall friend urged him. “Anyone on that street could’ve called the cops.”

Minho held Changbin up then looked to you and your startled friends eyes seriously. “We need to leave too.”

“We need to get him to a hospital.” Felix’s voice cracked.

“You think that he can afford a bill? N-no. We can’t do that. I’ll explain later...he’ll be fine. He’s done this to himself before. Idiot.” Minho slugged his roommates arm over his shoulder and Chan rushed to grab the other.

Your legs shook when Felix helped you to your feet. Any second, you thought they would give out. Thick strands of blood and saliva caught on Changbin’s lip. Seeing him like that made you feel even sicker. It was all your fault.

“M-My place is close-by. We can go there.” You locked eyes with Minho.

“Okay. We’ll go there.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Your hands trembled violently once you brought your key to your lock. They burned with the cold, and were wet from how you had clawed at the snow.

“Here, let me.” Felix gently offered.

Your apartment was an absolute wreck. Tiny as it was, you had managed to make a mess of it all with art supplies, dirty dishes, hundreds of sticky notes with reminders and textbooks. As you entered, you swept everything to the side with your feet.

“W-what do we do?” Chan’s own fingers had turned pink from the cold where he held Changbin: head slumped and blinking hazily, then shivering furiously--the action thus making him groan out in pain.

“He-he’s freezing. There’s blood...” You fell from Felix’s arms. “I-I have to help him.” Once more, tears welled in your eyes. “We need to get him warm. Get him in the shower and clean him off.”

“Okay. Where’s the bathroom?”

You guided the group of boys down your hall where it became a group effort to remove him of his soaked clothes. Your pants had also been soaked through, but that didn’t even phase you; not when blood stained his mouth. He slumped his body over into four pairs of arms.

“I can take it from here.” You closed the door behind yourself.

Just as you did, you caught Chan’s surprised and widened eyes after Minho had leaned back from his ear. “He’s the son of WHO?”

You shimmied your own clothes off, ignoring your own shivering as you held him up. The act itself was difficult, and you had given up when it came to your undergarments. It didn’t matter much, so you left them on, along with his. All you wanted was to get the blood off of him--you couldn’t bear to see it.

The warm water on your skin felt unreal: a blanket of warmth to dissolve away the chill that clung to your body. It was as if you were defrosting: melting away the illness, the poison, the doubt and the fear. For a moment, you let yourself think that it was that simple.

“Y/n”

At your feet, the water turned from clear to pink.

“What is it?” You hushed above the sound of the shower, and Changbin rested his forehead on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why? You shouldn’t be sorry...I’m the one that should be.”

“N-no.” He coughed, “I feel so sorry.”

“Changbin--”

“--Why him? Why him when he would treat y-you like shit? I-I know how he is.”

“I-I don’t know...”

It was a funny thing crying in the shower. It was somewhat like you weren’t crying at all with how your tears mixed with the stream.

He sniffled, “I-I’m not mad at you. I mean...I was, but...I just don’t understand.”

“Please, be mad at me. Be fucking furious. T-this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have kept it a secret--”

Changbin chuckled, then rose his head, lips bloodied, one eye squinted, with a smile on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re holding me back. I didn’t have to do it this time.”

At first, you didn’t know what it meant. But then, you realized. You had been clinging on to him for dear life: your arms completely wrapped around him, even now when he was standing on his own.

“I thought that I gave a damn since it was him--it made me so fucking mad that it was him but...”

“...What?”

“Fuck me, but...I love you.”

You shook your head vehemently, tears crossing with the warm trickle of water. “N-no, you don’t.”

He chuckled once more, “I think I’d know if I did or didn’t.”

“Don’t say that.” Your chest shook.

“Why?”

“B-because you don’t mean it. You can’t love me.”

“Why not?”

His hands, bruised and pink cupped both sides of your face.

“Someone like me...You can’t fucking love me.”

“What? You’re not making any sense. Y/n, I think I’ve fucking loved you since the first night that I met you, and you can’t stop me from loving you. Listen, you don’t even have to love me back for now, but can you at least accept how I feel for you?”

How was it you had been able to scream it before, but couldn’t find the words now?

Heated steam filled up your shower, and dripped from the walls. His skin too dipped with drops of that water. You thought to yourself how the blood and the water mixed, the two colors didn’t work together at all. Why was all you could think of colors?

“Okay?” He asked.

Your own hands took to his soft cheeks, where you brushed away any streaks of red you could see there.

You closed your yes after, succumbing to the feeling that the water brought you: melting, fading, dissolving, just like the way that watercolors blended from one to the other on a page. You felt Changbin press his forehead into yours.

“I-I think that I love you too--but--I’m so scared. So fucking scared.”

He let out a relieved “oh” then pressed his lips gently into yours. Each kiss after the other was more and more careful. He poured his whole being into your quivering lips.

“Please don’t be scared. Don’t be scared of me. I swear that I won’t hurt you, I never want to. I mean it. Please don’t run from me.”

Here you were, worrying that he was the one to run from you. You felt pathetic thinking how patient he had been with you, how much he had put up with, and what he had just done, all for you.

He kissed more “pleases” into your mouth, then drew you flush against his chest.

You held onto him tighter. “Do you mean it?”

He nodded, then craned his neck to fill your mouth with more of his answers, and it did feel like the way that watercolors faded into one another.

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Will he be okay?”

Felix, Chan, you, and Minho sat on your couch with mugs warming your hands. In the past half hour or so, none of you had said much.

Minho sighed. “He will be. He just needs to rest now. I’ll take him to the clinic tomorrow, see if anything is wrong. Knowing him...thick skulled asshole...” He scoffed with a smirk, “--He’s fine.”

“T-that’s good.” Chan took a sip. “He fell asleep?”

“Right after we got out of the shower. Lucky I stole some of Chan’s joggers back then. I put him in my bed and he was out like a light. Didn’t say that anything else hurt.”

In unison, the four of you took another anxious sip.

“He can stay here tonight? If that’s okay with you?” Minho asked.

“Yeah. That’s fine. I don’t think he wants to move wither.”

Felix looked about himself awkwardly. “Wellll I think that we should get going then. Y/n, call us if you need anything?”

“Mmhm.”

A silence filled the air.

“Y/n, did you know?” Chan blurted out.

“Me? Know what?”

Minho shot the other man a deadly glare, then cleared his throat. “Bin’s dad is some high ranking politian. Someone so high that we’d know his name: that’s how he explained it to me. He left his whole life with them to rap. If he had gotten caught tonight, in the alley or some hospital with his real name, it would’ve been all over the news. He’s been trying his best to be invisible since high school...doesn’t want to tarnish the family reputation or something, even though they practically hate him....I don’t get it. They basically disowned him after he said he wanted to do rapping, not like he minded though. His surname isn’t even Seo.”

“Do you know what it is? His surname?”

“He’s never told me and I never asked.”

Another silence fell over your group.

“...He never told me.” You watched the steam of your tea.

“And I didn’t tell you either, alright? This stays between us.”

Felix mocked a zip over his lips.

“Guess I’ll have to ask him about him about his artistic process another time then, hm?” Chan cracked his sarcasm with an airy laugh.

“Guess so.” You tried your best to laugh back. “Thank you for tonight. All of you.” You met each boys eyes and each of them nodded in understanding.

Felix clapped his friend’s back. “Let’s head out.”

╚ ——————————————— ╝

One light was left on in your room: the strand of pink string lights that you hung over the wall your bed was against. The rest of your room was cluttered as well with clothes strewn about and your backpack contents scattered all across the floor. From your tiny and aged window, snow had accumulated in the corners, and further, the yellow and red lights of the city sparkled. Just as you were about to pull the plug for the lights, Changbin groaned out groggily.

“Wait...what are you doing?”

“Turning off the lights. I’m going to go to sleep too now. I wanna give you some space. I’ll go over on the couch.”

“No!” He roused himself, “No. Don’t do that. Can you...stay in here?”

“Sleep with you?”

“If you want? I wouldn’t mind.” He smirked, ever cocky. Nothing took that from him. “Two bodies are warmer than one.”

“Bin...”

His smile really was just a bit too cute.

“Mm. I like it when you call me that.” He reached out his arm to tempt you in. “Please? Come on.”

You toyed with his forearm, shaking it a little like you were throwing a tantrum. “Do I have to?”

“Hey! We just had a fuckin’ moment! I just bore my frickin’ heart for you.”

“I’m just teasing. I will.”

Right by his wrist, a puffy scar caught your eye, and you wondered if you had missed cleaning one of his wounds. You turned his arm over, revealing the gnarly scar: a stripe, about 3 inches long running parallel to his arm.

“What’s this?” You studied it further.

“Oh. That. Don’t get mad, but, tonight’s fight wasn’t my first. Some fucker with a watch or a bracelet or something tore the shit outta my arm this one time.” He inspected it himself, “It’s my battle scar. I’m kinda proud of it. If I hadn’t stepped in, who knows what he would’ve done to his girlfriend? There’s a special place in hell for guys like him.”

Stormy grey eyes.

Rosemary and cedarwood.

You thought you had cried all the tears that would’ve been possible that night. Blurred memories, the ones that you had tried so desperately to forget came flooding over you. How you hadn’t known...was beyond you.

“Hey...” Changbin scooched back up to wipe your tears. “Tears again? What’s wrong?” His thumbs wiped them away. “You can tell me?”

“It-it was you??”

“Me? Me what?”

“On that night, in the alley when it was snowing, I-I was alone and he...”

Changbin’s eyes too blew out, then his own tears gathered in the corners. “Holy shit...that was you too?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god.”

Instinctually, he threw his arms around you, back into his scent that was just as clear as the real first night you had met him. Together, you both turned into babbling, sniffling messes.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Your voice shook. “I’ve always wanted to thank you. I-I can’t believe--”

“--Come here.”

Changbin swept you off your feet and wrapped all of his limbs around your body where he had pulled you into the bed, finally sweeping the covers over top of both your bodies with a kiss to your forehead.

“You’ve gone though so much. Fuck, I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

Your own hands snaked around his body. “Bin...”

“We’re kind of impossible aren’t we? All those years ago, and now...”

“Thank you.” You kissed into his mouth, silencing him something much sweeter than your secrets.

His body shifted, and he returned with his own kisses, each one slow and careful. He twisted his body to lean slightly over you, wincing at the pain that it caused him.

“Fuck. That hurt.” He sighed with a tiny pout, “But, I don’t want to stop kissing you.”

You bit a little smile into his lips. “Don’t push yourself.”

“What? I can’t help it.”

This time, you pushed him back to swiftly cast your legs on either side of his hips to straddle him. “This better?”

He hummed out a happy yes, reaching down to pull your lips into his again. Like it always had been, you could’ve kissed him like this for ages, and time would slip into nothingness: a mere construct undefinable. Outside, the world was still dark and cold, but inside, the heat of your two bodies mingling banished it all away.

“By the way, I wanted to tell you that I think that your art is beautiful.” Changbin broke momentarily, then pointed to your unframed paintings stuck to the walls with painters tape. “I’ve never seen anything like them. I don’t know why you keep them hidden here. The world should see them.”

“Trying to get into my pants now? Who told you to say that?”

From your string lights, his whole being was bathed in a soft pink light.

“No one. But I mean it...you know, if I wasn’t debilitated, who knows what I would do to you right now.”

“Woooow, you talk such big game.”

He shot you a teasing glance. “I’ll fucking do it, fuck my probably broken-or- bruised ribs.”

“No! Don’t do that.” You chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself.” With a newfound confidence, you lowered your body to hover your lips over his own. “What if I go easy on you....nice and slow? Didn’t you say once that you liked to take things slow?”

His eyes darkened as he mimicked your tone. “Anything as long as it’s with you.” After, his hands swept all the way down your back, lightly brushing up the fabric of your sleep-shirt, then to kneed into your ass. “Will you let me love you tonight?”

“Will you let me love you back?”

“Yes.”

You shoved your hips down into his, grinding as purposefully as you could over his half-hard dick and shivering at the sensation over your clit. Both of your bodies trembled at the action. Under the cotton sheets and down comforter, there was nothing that could have felt cozier against the bare skin of your arms, and the way that his fingertips traced scribbles into your back.

In seconds, he had pulled your shirt off your head, kissing little moans into your mouth once his hands had found your breasts. All the while, you kept your hips moving, reveling in the way that with each thrust of your hips you had felt yourself get wetter. He pulled and tweaked at your nipples which hardened them instantly, and you bowed down to kiss him on all the places where he didn’t know he had needed the attention: on the tip of his nose, in the corners of his mouth, over that scar on his chin, fluttering over his bruised eyelid, overtop the Band-Aid above his eyebrow, giving care to all the little scrapes on his cheeks.

He had keened his hips upwards, now properly hardened from your friction against him. Even just like this, his length felt heavenly. With a careful prompt, he guided your torso upward, granting his mouth better access of your perky nipples which he took into his mouth greedily. Even greedier hands cascaded down your stomach to your boyshorts where he pulled at the elastic. After, he ghosted his touch over the thin fabric separating him from touching your clit. The sensation nearly sent you topping over, but rather you grabbed at the iron headboard to your bed to steady yourself. Changbin blew his words over your nipples with a cool air.

“Can I?”

“Do you even need to ask?” You chuckled out.

“Of course I do.” He hooked two fingers to help you shake the fabric off your legs. “I always do.”

First, he pulled you down into his lips; a distraction, then he coaxed his digits into your folds. You hadn’t known how embarrassingly wet you had become, but that was nothing compared to the reality of it. The sounds of your slick coating his fingers was loud enough to make you giggle, and for him to return it.

“That excited huh?” His index finger rubbed faint circles around your clit.

“W-what about it?”

“I just think that its cute.” He removed his hand to show you the way that your arousal strung around his fingers. “‘So wet for me, aren’t you angel?”

“Mmhm.” Your hips did their own helpless dance over the pads of his fingers once he had brought them back down. “S-shit.”

A wicked smile spread over his face as he indulged in you more. Back and forth, he traced around your swollen clit, then down to your entrance, barely giving you any contact at all.

“Remember our first night? Hmm? Remember what I did to you? ...I could do it again...”

“B-Bin...” You gasped out his name at the thought.

His tongue slicked over your bottom lip, “Would you like that?” His index and middle finger swept even rougher swipes over your clit which sent you mewling back on his tongue.

“Yes? Or no? Use your words Beautiful.”

That intense feeling, that unreal feeling...you would’ve been lying if you had said you hadn’t dreamed of it.

“...yes. I want you to.”

“Okay my love. Just relax. Lean on me if you have to, okay?”

“It won’t hurt you?”

“No. Not at all.”

With your quivering thighs, his hand dipped back down and toyed with the heat of your folds and angrily sensitive clit. Your choked moans muffled into the crook of his neck where you had buried your face. Every single touch of his made your body feel as if it was aflame. Relentlessly, he switched from circling to stopping, every once and a while slipping a couple fingers to stretch out your entrance. He wouldn’t grant it to you fully yet, but his curved digits teased at your g-spot for only seconds at a time.

In his ears, you filled them with “more, more, more’s” and little whimpers of “deeper, deeper, please, deeper.”

“More? Is that what you want?”

He winced terribly at the action, but he pushed you off from on top of him till you were flat on your back, screwing his fingers into you deeply.

“I’ll give you as much as you want.” He kissed the words to your collarbones.

All at once, his pace was renewed, and his fingers curved up sharply inside of your pussy to simulate your g-spot as roughly and quickly as he could. In his skill he gave your clit attention with his flattened thumb. The overwhelming feeling built in your core and inched closer second by second. Your control over your body slipped past you, and you fell completely into the feeling.

You came with a uncontrollable shake of your whole body, and a release of pressure that made you into a moaning mess--that of which you didn’t need to be careful of if you had been too loud or not. Freely, you convulsed with that indescribable feeing, and your liquids wetted both your thighs and the fringes of the sheets which Changbin just barely removed from your body.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

In his adoration, the man above you proudly chuckled at your body still quivering with aftershocks.

“Think you can take a little more after that? Take your time angel.”

Your head spun, but it did so only for a moment. As you came down, Changbin kissed one, two, three, little kisses into your shoulder while he admired the way that your body shook.

You nodded, laughing at the fact that you really did have no idea what time it was, nor could you even guess.

“Do you have--”

“--Dresser. O-over there.” A weak finger of yours pointed to your side table.

A series of grunts slipped out of him, but he rolled himself over to take a condom from the strand and take care of it himself. He hid is tiny embarrassed smirk once he laid down.

“Angel, I-I think that you’ll have to--”

“--I know.”

Back to your origional position, you aligned your entrance against his length which was still as red and hardened as ever.

“Nice and slow right?”

With one hand, you guided his dick into your velvet walls.

“Oh shit.” Changbin pulled at your lip with is teeth upon the first roll of your hips. “Just like that. Just...like that.”

It was beautiful, the way that he felt inside you. It had hurt a bit the first time, but now, it was different. The way that he filled you up was perfection: you were perfect for him, and he was for you.

“D-don’t stop.” He pleaded while he scraped his nails down your back.

To think, the one who had told you he didn’t say “please” was now at your mercy. It took everything you had not to let it go to your head.

He angled his hips upward, pushing himself even deeper, and you nearly lost your composure at the feeling. Your core tightened again, and you let yourself grind over him, not stopping once.

“F-fuck. Bin, ah! Shit--”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Became his breathless mantra. “Y-you fuck me so good angel.”

Clambering lips came colliding and you rode out your orgasm on his dick fiercely, connecting your mouth with his so he could feel every little bit of the pleasure that he gave you. He did the same, spilling his euphoric “ah ah’s” all over your lips and eventually to your neck where he sucked carelessly upon his own orgasm. You milked every last bit of him from his throbbing erection until he shook and begged you to stop his overstimulation.

Perhaps because you were tired, or you craved the feeling, but not a bone in your body wanted to move.

“Can we stay like this...for a while?”

Changbin kissed his answer back to you.

“For as long as you like.”

Yes, the both of you had turned to sweating messes, and the scent of sex hung heavy around the both of you. Of course, it smelled just a little like rosemary and cedarwood. Wrapped up in one another like this, there was no telling where you began and he ended.

Until the sun peaked at the horizon, he filled you to the brim with his “I love you’s” anywhere that he could manage: into the palms of your hands, into the love bites he had painted onto your chest, onto your ears which he nibbled, and, into your sleepy eyes which had held his for as long as you could, until the allure of sleep drew both of them closed.

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hains-mae · 4 years

Text

Flowers

(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU

Rating: T

Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.

Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays. You are just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life, so one might think it only makes sense that your soulmate is just as ordinary as you. But that isn’t the case. Especially not when your body is constantly littered with flowers. Some of them fade over time, some stay, but one thing is for certain – your soulmate seems to get hurt. A lot.

Notes: Hey there you guys. Recently I’ve been caught up in a Batman fever, and I can’t do anything about it. I ended up creating a challenge for my friend @mrevaunit42 which was an “Character x Reader” Soulmate AU. Seriously, it was all in the name of fun.

And then I got caught up in it, perhaps a little too much – and created this. I’ve never written a soulmate au before, though I really wanted to. (Now I have! Yay~) So please forgive my writing since I’m a little rusty, and I hope you enjoy.

Stay safe everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.

I woke up to a burning sensation on my lower ribs in the middle of night. Hissing in pain I slowly pushed my feet out of the warm covers and turned on the lamp beside my bed. Pulling up my shirt I assessed the damage.

It was purple lilacs this time, stretched across the middle of my torso going horizontally to my side. I winced as the tattoo completed itself and just as the heat came, a cold chill ran through it and down my spine. Somehow it soothed the burn.

God, another one? I frowned at the beautiful flower and sighed. It worried me that my soulmate was prone to getting hurt. Sometimes the injuries made sense, like when I found them on my knees, I could easily chalk it up to falling and scraping – but injuries like these were more difficult to decipher.

How does someone normal get hurt this way?

They don’t.

“Unless they’re a criminal.” One of my friends stated dryly days ago.

“Or a hero!” Another said quickly.

Needless to say, I wasn’t in a rush to find out. Whoever this person was, I knew from the start that they were trouble.

The next time I woke, it was to the early morning rays that escaped my curtains and played a fiery dance on my eye lids. I groaned and pulled the covers up wishing I could sleep in for a couple more minutes, but I knew I couldn’t.

A few weeks ago my school, Gotham Academy, announced that they were holding their annual science fair at a convention centre as opposed to the regular school gymnasium, because surprisingly enough, Wayne Enterprise offered to fund the event.

It was no secret that Gotham’s economy was hitting below the desired margin. Many people don’t have jobs which resulted in an influx of crime in the past years. And so Wayne Enterprise collaborated with Gotham’s Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to raise awareness and encourage young minds to strive for a better, innovative future. They shouldered the expenses needed and created an international affair, to top it off; Wayne Ent. also offered scholarships to future college goers and internships in all their branches.

Which was why I couldn’t sleep in today. I had project to work on. In line with our team of sponsors, I decided to invent a weapon that could help the GPD when catching criminals. A gun that projects thin plastic case marbles filled with a chemical concoction that erupts into a quick hardening foam upon impact. The foam itself is not toxic, but it works with catching and detaining. It turns as hard as stone but there was another type of compound that I was in the process of creating to counter act it as a measure of safety.

I got up and started my day.

“Good morning sweetheart.” My mom greeted as I entered the kitchen. She smiled warmly at me as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon on the table.

I couldn’t help but return the gesture, walking up to her and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Morning Mom, are you working tonight?”

“I have to, but don’t worry I’ll be leaving something in the fridge for dinner.”

I thanked her and took my plate into the living room. Turning on the T.V., I easily found the news channel and watched the latest reports on Gotham’s activities.

Mom sometimes had to work on weekends just to make ends meet, which was one reason why I was so hard to get that scholarship and hopefully the internship as well. The other reason was…

A family picture caught my eye in the middle of the news and I bit back a sigh. My dad, my mom, and me. We all were smiling at the camera.

Dad was part of the Police force and died during a heist. Reports stated he was running after the criminals and got shot before he could capture them. That was another reason I chose this as my project. Dad always wanted to fight for justice, hopefully this invention could help.

I finished up my breakfast and helped my mom with chores before I slipped into science mode and continued tinkering with the project. The projectiles were complete and I was able to make 3 in total, which I stored in a small box encased with extra padding.

It was around evening after my mom left that I got another burn. I dropped the screwdriver I was holding and bit my lip. Gasping for breath I pulled my sleeve and watched another flower blossom on my forearm.

The pain was gone in an instant and the cold tickled the skin that was branded. I sighed and slowly straightened my poster. This person, after all these injuries, they better not die before I meet them. I grumbled to myself when I realised I was short on supplies. Poor planning on my part.

I grabbed my bag and locked the front door before I headed out to the nearest hardware store, careful to keep my marks hidden from view. I’ve lived in Gotham my whole life, and I knew that standing out, even in the smallest way, would lead into trouble.

The walk to the store was short and uneventful, thankfully. There were only a few customers. I manoeuvred my way between the isles and picked up what I needed. After paying at the counter I hauled my goods and ducked back into the streets. I almost wished I didn’t stop when I heard that woman cry out for help. I was unarmed, unprepared, and every cell in my body screamed at me to walk – no – run away from the scene that was unfolding before my eyes.

But she was helpless. Clad in a trench coat and rain boots, she didn’t look like much but her bag was definitely designer. The thieves in question had a knife pointed at her face. There were 6 of them. All were towering and bulky next to her petite frame. Their menacing stares struck a cold shiver in me and my hand involuntarily clutched the projectiles I was working on in my pocket. I had a feeling it would be safer with me than it would be at home, however this was not how I imagined I’d first be using them.

The woman screamed again and I clenched my palm.

I sucked in some air and got ready to shout at the perpetrators – until I felt the wind rush past my ear.

In a flash someone had swooped into the scene and kicked the man holding the knife to the ground. The sound of blades being drawn stole my attention. It was Robin. He took a stance between the woman and the men.

“Run. Now.” He told the lady.

She whimpered and scrambled up to her feet dashing towards me, towards the entrance of the alley. She zipped past and didn’t stop running till she turned the corner. I should be running too. But my eyes were fixed on the fight that was about to happen.

Robin seemed no older than me. In reality there was no way he could win against 6 huge men. But then again, this was Robin. No normal teenager.

“6 against 1.” He mused, the grip on his katana tightened. “That hardly seems fair.”

The one who held the knife, possibly the leader of the gang, growled thickly. “Get‘im boys.”

They all rushed towards him at the same time, hands in the air and weapons ready. Robin whipped his blade and easily knocked two knives down, the remaining used their strength and threw punches that looked like it would strike anyone straight to next week. The masked boy effortlessly dodged all their hits. Crouching, jumping, twisting, exactly when needed and not a second too late. His movements were precise; a quick jab below the rib striking the kidney with the handle of the sword, a sharp slam of his elbow to the chin, and to close the deal with a blunt blow force to the side of the neck. The goon fell like a tree that’s been cut down.

I gaped in awe.

The others rushed to avenge their fallen comrade, but Robin was quicker and used his blade to disable them. He kicked one of them into the brick wall, a sickening crunch echoed as the goons’ head smashed into it, then a howl of pain when Robin sliced his back. I cringed at the sight of the blood. It was a superficial wound, at least from my vantage point. The cut was deep enough to hurt and draw red, but not enough to kill.

The next lunged himself and grabbed Robin’s wrist, the boy growled and kicked him the face, forcing to free himself. He couldn’t see the other one running towards them from behind, the weapon aiming straight for Robin’s back.

“Robin!” I found my voice and screamed. “Behind you!”

He did a roundhouse kick and slammed the head of the one holding his wrist, then using the momentum back flipped and kicked the one who was behind.

I sighed in relief.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” He shouted at me as he readied himself again. “I said run!”

That got all the men’s attention. The ones that fell got back up and huffed angrily.

“Get the girl!” The leader shouted. “We can use her.” His leer sent bile rushing up my throat.

I squeaked as 3 of them started to chase me. Finally my legs listened and I dashed across the street onto the other pavement.

They were too fast though, their thundering footsteps grew closer towards me. My lungs burned as I tried to inhale some much needed oxygen, physical sports like running really weren’t my thing. I nearly tripped on an uneven tile as a scream rippled out of my throat. I braced myself for impact but it never came. Instead I felt a rush of wind across my face and a lightness below me. The ground was getting further and further away.

I realised I was being carried. Looking up, I was face to face with Red Robin.

“God thing I saw you when I did or you’d be dead meat.” He said dryly as we landed on a roof.

“Th-thank you.” I breathed, trying to gulp in as much needed air as I could. “Robin – he –“ But I didn’t know how to articulate. The adrenaline rush was messing with my head, and I could barely think straight.

Yet Red Robin nodded, understanding. He jumped off the roof and shot his grappling hook. I peered down and saw the fight started to move, from the alley to the side walk. The goons cornered Robin into a store front and were relentless as they threw punch after punch. The other 3 that were chasing me were already fighting Red just below the building that he deposited me on.

I watched in horror as the glass shattered everywhere around them. They weren’t just normal gangs I discerned, they knew how to fight. And unlike the birds and bat, they didn’t mind taking a life.

Clutching the projectiles again in my pocket, I brought them up with trembling hands.

“I hope this works.” I whispered to myself and pulled out my elastic hair tie.

Hooking one of the orbs onto the elastic, I aimed for the goons attacking Robin, and pulled as far as the band could go. Willing my hand to stop shaking, I said a silent prayer and released my hold.

Time seemed to go into slow motion as it flew across the air. I held my breath.

It hit the ground between two goons and burst into a big foamy cloud of vibrant cobalt, instantly seizing the men and solidified their prison as the concoction cooled.

Both fights stopped for a split second, as they watched the chemical reaction, which now looking back was a mistake on all parties.

I gasped and thanked whoever was listening.

The leader roared and pulled a pistol. I felt my throat tighten as the gun set a bullet free.

Robin and I cried out in pain as the bullet dug into him. Tears threatened to roll down my cheek as I clutched my burning shoulder.

A birdarang zipped towards the leader, catching his wrist and making him let go of the weapon. With a grunt, Robin kicked him hard across the chest stealing the perpetrators breath and with a quick turn, smashed his foot onto the mans jaw, cracking it before letting him fall with a loud thud.

The fight continued and Robin easily subdued his last opponent. Then he ran across the street to finish up with Red. Both of them moved in fluid motions like well trained dancers as they fought while protecting each others weak spots. They took down the last 3 goons and tied them up just as the police sirens blared within the distance.

I jumped up from my spot and turned to run but stopped when I saw the two Robins in my path.

“You.” The younger one started. “You were the one who shot the…”

I nodded wordlessly, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my body. A nasty red splotch caught my attention and I believe they both noticed as I glanced at it. My own hand went up and clutched my shoulder unconsciously, a cold sensation rippled through where the bullet was.

“Oh my god.”

---

to be continued...

Part 2, 3, 4, 5 (end)

#Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian x Reader #Soulmate AU #fanfiction #my fanfiction #challenge #DC #Batman #Robin #Red Robin #my fan fiction

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naruhearts · 6 years

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14x13 First-Watch Thoughts: Dean Winchester, John Winchester and Destiel

Before I write a full proper review this weekend (and I plan to write a separate Sam post) (I’ll be missing other key details for sure) let me SCREAM about:

JOHN WINCHESTER FADING AWAY AT THE END OF THE EPISODE LIKE A GHOST INTO THE ETHER as the Winchesters said goodbye to him --> TPTB visually/narratively textualized his ghostly presence like we’ve seen in S13/S14 -- Ghost-Monster-Yeager-Michael epitomized figure. He loomed over Sam and Dean's lives (especially Dean's) as the core toxic remnant of their past that they internalized and which subsequently influenced them to live out their toxic life courses and crippled their healthy self-processes, yet John Winchester’s narrative cathartic (and redemptive) role was fulfilled during Season Who Am I 14.

DEAN: For the longest time I blamed Dad. I blamed Mom too. I was angry. [...] But to be honest I don't know who that Dean Winchester is [re: letting ‘some other poor sons of bitches’ take Sam and Dean’s place if they were normal].

DEAN: I'm good with who I am.

Dean ACTUALLY used his words and disclosed the sources of his trauma and parental neglect *screams* He self-introspected during the dishwashing scene in the kitchen -- the Heart and Home -- by precisely doing what we expected/hoped for him (and Sam) to do: reflecting on their current lives in response to 2003!John Winchester’s resurrection and determining what really holds true value and worth...what holds more fulfilling love and true heart’s desires than a pearl ever could --> Found Family. DEAN, recalling that life is short, accepted his current respective life with Cas and Jack and stressed the self-fulfilling importance of why their lives turned out as such. What they went through since Mary died in 1983 moulded them into who they are today. HE ACCEPTS WHO HE IS!! Dean accepts who Sam is. Sam and Dean, as grown men, become the optimum versions of themselves where their physical, emotional and mental suffering was, of course, undeserved, but also ultimate self-cathartic blessings in disguise: it contributed to their both their psychological resistance and individual journeys towards self-actualization as they create interpersonal bonds with others outside themselves. THEY LET GO.

JOHN: I'm so proud of you boys. I love you both...so much.

THE LONG-WANTED AND LONG-OVERDUE PRIDE AND VERBALIZED LOVE FROM A FATHER WHO ABUSED HIS SONS FOR YEARS. He finally told Sam and Dean that he loved them. He asked for forgiveness, and they freely chose to give it, additionally permitting themselves to embrace cathartic closure. Now THAT is how you transform trauma into your self-motivational strength!! In particular, we knew *points at all the extensive John vs Dean meta* that Dean yearned to hear those direct words from John. He yearned for years. For Dean to hear it spill out of John’s actual lips -- to hear John verbalize how much he loves Dean, how he’s proud of the man he has become -- after everything Dean has done for him -- is sheer meta fulfillment executed in the most emotive way. Instead of watching his son die without fostering altruism e.g. 2x01 In My Time of Dying, we see John watching his son LIVE and grow -- exercising his agency, formulating decisions for himself, and finally discovering SELF-WORTHINESS. SELF-LOVE. SELF-ACCEPTANCE. John also told Dean that he “never meant for this. I guess I hoped that eventually you'll get yourself a normal life. A peaceful life. A family.” Well--

Dean told John he does in fact have a family, topped off with the smile of utter happiness on his face.

He chose his own timeline in which Cas and Jack exist. He chose his Found Family.

It’s intriguing to note that, in the context of John hoping Dean would have “eventually” obtained a “normal life” -- a “family” -- for himself, if we go off SPN’s constantly-reiterated narrative differentiations between familial family (brothers) and intimate family (husbands, boyfriends, girlfriend) aka Love and...Love, the unsaid connotation of ROMANTIC family applies here, as @thetwistedwillow and I discussed. Sam is Dean’s family, but John isn’t referring to him.

John is referring to Dean getting himself an Apple Pie Life™ -- one that Dean initially tried with Lisa and Ben Braeden but couldn’t sustain; Dean seeking marital happiness outside The Life™ was NOT personally/characteristically feasible. It entailed burying vital truths about himself -- imprisoning his non-performativity -- as a broken man within a broad illusion of Want vs Need whom Lisa also tried and failed to fix...failed to make whole despite Dean once telling her that she comprised his happiness long ago.

Indeed, the present era of Season Cyclic 14 ushers in truth.

Dean has a family with “someone who understands The Life™.”

This aforementioned Life™ -- regardless of it being full of pain, horror, and death -- offers Dean joy, security, and new beginnings.

Cas and Jack, willingly choosing to incorporate themselves into The Life™, are the mirrors of freedom to Lisa and Ben’s jagged misfortunes.

They accept who Dean is wholeheartedly. They lend him purpose, zeal, and love -- buckets of love. They are aware of his faults. They encourage his strengths. They represent his faith and his hope.

(Cas, more than anyone, is indelibly aware of Dean’s capabilities.)

In terms of communication, Dean told his brother Sam that he loves him in 14x11 [for attempting to find another way re: Michael]. He directly told his mother Mary that he loves her in 12x22. Tonight he finally told his father John that he loves him, too. ALL the emotional honesty and transparency, my friends!!

Who else is left for Dean to say such significant words to? WE JUST DON’T KNOW!

- - - -

14x13 practically crossed off most of this + my entire SPN300 checklist!!!

- CHOSEN FAMILY VS FOUND FAMILY themes - S14 Dean encountering/hearing about the Castiel of Old—the Angel of the Lord who hasn’t yet built a trustful and ever-complex ten-year relationship with him - Sam finally rectifying and clarifying things with John as a grown man!! TPTB know what 14x13’s premise means for Mary Winchester and TFW’s characteristic arcs aka EMOTIONAL CHARACTER-DRIVEN NARRATIVES. They are facing their pasts and must subsequently introspect and FINALLY act upon their WANTS vs NEEDS. Bros (Dean the Emotional Hero of SPN in particular) may have wished John was alive, but is it worth losing Cas and Jack? - Is it worth losing the real Cas Dean knows? Worth replacing the angel who executed his own choice to Fall, embodied his newfound humanized principles and willingly became part of Dean’s life? - (And here the focal point of the Destiel-adjacent 14x13 narrative comes in) If John didn’t die, Dean’s life course progression towards self-actualization (with Cas as a key aspect of his psychological realizations; Dean and Cas as both each other’s offsets to healthy self-process) wouldn’t have happened. Losing Mary—losing John—ALLOWED Dean to, despite all the unfortunate circumstances, endure necessary pain in order to heal…to: A. release himself from the shackles of predeterminism, Brodependency, parental absenteeism, repression, toxic misemotionality, and trauma + eliminating the old perceptions of himself as a blunt tool: his father’s hammer and society’s hammer and B. embrace his reflection that he sees in the mirror of his identity - Is alive!John truly what Dean WANTS? What he NEEDS? Dean and Sam, confronted by personal ultimatum in terms of their individual relationships with John and the psychological states/growth stages his death left him in, must decide! - TL;DR character development - And, of course, proliferation of endgame Destiel in some way (not a BIG way yet, but building blocks) from this point onwards and subtext moving into its final pre-text phase as I hope/expect Dean to choose his reality with Cas

(I’m expanding on the last point in a bit!!)

I have LOTS of additional thoughts (tbh they’re all an incoherent jumble lol), but as of now I’d like to say that nothing else can surpass the heartwarming satisfaction that bloomed in my chest over the way Dabb and Glynn beautifully interweaved the narrative’s Family/Love/Forgiveness/Self themes into an episode full of amusing callbacks e.g. Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie (there were a LOT of easter eggs I tell you) and heavy-weighing characteristic ones e.g. Goodbye Stranger Destiel redux -- and oh my gosh, the Dean and Cas narrative callbacks we received tonight, where Dean couldn’t believe that OG Cas had NO recollection of him?!

I don’t know about you, but the romantic subtext smacked me in the face; the negative spaces and unsaid verbalizations were glaring. I was, quite frankly, thumping the table in excitement, because alongside the explicit and gorgeously done Lazarus Rising redux scene -- in a PIZZERIA no less *gestures at Cas = Pizza D/C bonding meta and romantic connotations* -- Sam and Dean confronting OG Cas depicted Dean and Cas' current relationship and dual growth reverting to zero in this AU.

It was a painful encapsulation of the unstable past vs healthy present.

Castiel the Angel of the Lord was non-humanized and never saved Dean from Hell. Emotional detachment and warrior-obedient violence resurfaced as his characteristic markers.

Dean, whom Cas -- from the point of first contact in realtime canon -- forged a profound bond with (the bond that proliferated into an intrinsically complex underlying romance narrative which worldwide audiences have been devoutly privy to) was struck by harrowing shock here, and TPTB took intentional liberties to visually fixate on Dean. Sam, on the other hand, reacted via wariness, and he was placed in the periphery -- blurred out to juxtapose their varied emotions of brother and husband; one of these is, as per usual, not like the other.

Dean realizes the integral role Cas currently holds in his life -- how far they’ve come together, in that the Goodbye Stranger parallel scene between him and Cas has him begging for Cas to stop -- to no avail -- and my heart lurched awfully when Cas made no move to do so. Dean fails in breaking his personal Naomi bred-reminiscent Soldier coding because we all know this certain iteration of Cas never freely chose Humanity.

He never Fell, never embodied the human principles of free will/autonomy and self-identity, never found kinship, and never fell in love with Dean.

Keeping the above in mind, when the real Cas comes back to the bunker after the ever-palpable and necessary self-catharsis that occurred during his absence, TPTB’s narrative brings the episode’s thematic premise of WANT vs NEED full circle as Mary, Sam, and Dean witness his entrance.

Sam and Mary are awed after the temporal fracture ordeal they just experienced, but there lies, once again, a certain cinematographic focus on (12x19-reminiscent) Dean.

We observe Dean’s onscreen expression of raw appreciation and self-conviction in that he has realized, amongst the throes of meta-laden cathartic self-acceptance, that everything he encountered since childhood -- the good, bad, in-between -- was worth it. This current canon reality is his heart’s deepest desire. He accepts it. He WANTS it.

For Dean Winchester, a life without Cas is no life at all.

RATING: 10/10

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linskywords · 5 years

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Why Hockey RPF?

Hey friends! This is a question I've been thinking about for a while, and I finally put together a list of my answers. Caveat that this is me attempting to analyze my own psychology and so may be very incomplete and/or wrong. :)

First, the general "why slash?" bits. These apply across fandoms (though I think some are extra strong in hockey, as I'll get to below).

One. Going against the script. I cannot stress enough how important this is to me in a romance. You know that thing where a man and a woman are in the same room together in a movie, so you know they're the love interests and they will kiss at the end? I hate that. It makes me feel like their love is probably fake. If they feel like they're supposed to be attracted to each other, and then they are attracted to each other, it probably isn't real attraction at all. Says my brain, anyway. If they feel like this person is not at all someone they could EVER be attracted to, and they're attracted anyway...it is instantly, like, fifty thousand times hotter to me. Works way better with gender for me than with other stuff that's traditionally been used in romance, like social class.

Two. Freedom from typical romantic gender roles. This has been said a lot, but: gender roles in romance SUCK. (They suck in most places. But romance really has a lot of them.) It's hard to grow up in a Western culture and not have an extremely conflicted relationship with them: you've been trained to find certain behaviors romantic, but you've also learned enough about feminism to question whether all of them are healthy or smart, and it's hard to write a satisfying romance when you're caught in the tangle of being drawn to the thing but also wondering if maybe you shouldn't be. It's so much easier for me to indulge my idtastic desires when I don't even have to think about whether I should be having the woman be the one taken care of, or if that makes her weak, so I should swap their roles, but then if she takes care of the guy does that mean she's doing all the work in the relationship and he's a giant man-baby...you see how that would bog you down. If both characters are men -- or women, or nonbinary -- it's easier to give them whatever roles I want without having to think about whether I'm furthering my own oppression.

Three. Getting to live in bodies that aren't our own. The previous point about gender roles can apply to femslash, too, and as a bi woman, I can get into that -- but sometimes it's better not to have to think about my own gender in the equation at all. There's so much crap associated with being a woman in our world, especially when it comes to sexuality. It can be liberating to write sex scenes when no bodies like mine are part of it even a little and you just don't have to negotiate the crap at all. This isn't an absolute for me -- I do write and enjoy femslash -- but I write way more slash than femslash, and I think this is part of it.

Four. Humanizing men. This is a big thing in a society (such as mine) where the best men are supposedly the ones who most embody a toxic masculinity where they don't experience normal human vulnerability or feelings. We're supposed to admire these men, and fall in love with them, and raise children with them (some of us), and it's so easy to resent and fear them instead. It is both satisfying and healing to portray men who are full of need and hurt and longing and love. Like, you know, humans are.

Five. Giving our desires power. In my culture, and in many others, men are the ones whose desires have power. A man wants a woman who doesn't want him back? He just needs to pursue her harder; she'll come around in the end, and if she doesn't, she's a heartless bitch. A woman wants a man who doesn't want her back? She's pathetic. Her desire makes her ridiculous. If you're a women who desires men, or who desires anyone at all, it's so humiliating to see your own desires minimalized and stripped of power like that. So if we want to write about our desires -- our desires for men, in particular -- it can be very satisfying to give those desires to another man. Those desires have POWER, then. They're legitimized. They have agency. We can revel in them without doubting our own right to have them.

So that's slash in general. Wow, there was a lot in there about cutting through the tangle of internalized patriarchy, wasn't there? Funny, that.

Hockey, though. Why hockey, amidst the many possible slash fandoms? Why did I start reading hockey RPF without ever having seen a game and fall for it so hard?

Six. The heteronormativity. And to take it a step further: the pressure in general to present yourself to the world as a certain type of person. I've written before about how a huge part of the appeal of the hockey world to me is the immense pressure it puts on its players -- which plays into the thing above about going against scripts, because the heteronormative script is extra in effect when it comes to professional sports, but it's not just that. These guys are under such a spotlight, and in exchange for their privilege and wealth they not only have to keep performing at an elite level that's hard to maintain, but they also have to force themselves into such a narrow, publicly acceptable mold. I'm not an athlete, so I can't relate to that specific set of pressures, but that makes them even more satisfying to write about. I can write about my feelings about the pressures that are on me -- the unwritten societal expectation to be important, successful, happy in easily recognized ways -- without having to think about those specific pressures, because I can substitute these ones instead.

Seven. Validation. I wrote above about giving our desires to men so that the desires have more power. In this case, it's giving the desires to successful, competent, famous people so that the desires have validity -- because the people who hold them have validity. Hockey players have the kind of prestigious, easily-recognized-at-cocktail-parties-and-high-school-reunions type of success that so many of us feel on one level or another than we should have, and they have it so unquestionably. When someone like that experiences a type of neediness I might feel -- the desperate longing for another person to notice them, the extreme obsession that comes with a crush, the miserable sureness that the person they want won't want them back -- that feeling is automatically valid, because THEY are valid. As someone who has felt a lot of longing in my life, I really enjoy exploring it in characters who have an automatic get-out-of-worthlessness free card.

So those are the navel-gazing ones, where hockey does the same kind of thing your average slash fandom does, but sometimes to a greater degree. Then there are the amazing storytelling benefits of the setting:

Eight. Team. Oh, team. Friends to lovers is my jam. I love writing characters who've spent so much time with someone, they don't even realize when their feelings for the other person cross the line from friendship to something else. This must be what friendship is, because it's what I feel for X person, who is my friend! And then the joy, of course, of having to see that person every day once you realize it isn't just friendship, and you're being tortured by knowing they'll never want you back (or so you think). Add in the thing where you and this person are fighting for something together every other day, where your successes bolster each other's, where your chemistry can mean the success of the team, and if you have a falling out (say, over someone's inappropriate crush) it could ruin your careers and the team's success...I mean, how do you resist a setup like that?

Nine. The flexibility of the setting. One of the wonderful things about hockey is that there's so much of it. If you want to set a story during a homestand, you can. If you want a road trip, you can find one. The season is seven months long, plus playoffs, and during those months you can set a story anytime and know that your characters will be seeing each other every day, creating lots of opportunities for interactions and relationship progress. And the hockey games themselves can feature -- but they don't have to. They can be just as important or unimportant as you need them to be for story purposes. Need your character to be down about something? Throw in a loss. Anxious about something? Mention a point drought. Sharing a happy moment with their person? Give them a win. If you're strictly following game schedules -- which I try to for the most part -- you might not be able to put those things exactly where you want them, but you can usually find a way to make your timeline match up with actual events. Unlike so many canons where there are specific, exciting adventures that have to be accounted for or worked around, hockey is years and years of fertile ground for whatever you want to put there.

(Corollary to the last one: this is a big part of why I find it so much easier and more fun to write fic than original fiction. When you write a novel, you usually need to create an actual plot, where external events impact each other and build to a conclusion. You can include a romance, but it has to be woven into these other events, and that gets complicated. Need a bonding moment? You'd better hope you designed your external plot to give them one. On the other hand, when you write fic, especially hockey fic, the hockey season can just march on merrily in the background, impacting your story only as much as you want it to, and you can pick and choose the parts of it that most strongly shape your romance. SO much easier to build and maintain a line of romantic tension that way.)

So those are my reasons. Put them all together, and they go a long way toward explaining why I write so much hockey -- and not just stories that borrow hockey players as characters, but stories set in the actual hockey world, with maybe an AU element, but hockey definitely present. There's just so much that the setting does for me and for my ability to write the stories that matter to me.

How about all of you?

#hockey rpf #fandom meta #slash #the patriarchy #my navel-gazing

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princeasimdiya12 · 6 years

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ATLA x DR au with Kaede as the Avatar. Shuichi’s a shy water bender that doesn’t like fighting. Kaito’s a earth bender. Maki’s a fire bender. Tenko’s a non bender that’s a Kyoshi warrior and knows chi blocking.

Ooo this sounds like an interesting AU idea.

So along with Kaede being the Avatar, I take it she’d also be an airbender to help round out the benders in the group. It also works since she’s cheerful and free spirited. But she can also detach herself from others on account of going with the wind and going with what she thinks is right for the greater good. This would be a good source of conflict since she’s struggling with her personal priorities while also keeping her friends in mind. I’m not sure if I want her to make Aang’s mistake which resulted in the genocide of the Airbenders, so maybe she did something that led to the Firebenders or whoever are the main villains, attacking her former home and taking her family and friends hostage. She escaped but she feels guilty that everyone had to suffer because of her selfish impulses. I can imagine that in her freetime to distress from the struggles as Avatar, she or her friends would play her soothing music in a solitary and natural environment. Allowing her to lose herself and just think of peace.

Saihara being a waterbender could work out. If he isn’t fighting then I take it he’s involved as the group healer. (I bet Kaito would try to push him to use his powers to help fight but Saihara would insist that healing is just as important). And since the Water Tribes don’t really have much use for a detective, he’d probably be more of a bookworm who spends his time in doors reading different types of books. It would be extra helpful if those books were also based on different cultures and beliefs so he knows what is the best course of action to take when traveling to a different town.

If Kaito’s an Earthbender, he’d definitely go all out with his powers. If his role is similar to Toph’s, then I see him starting out as a ‘local hero’ who protects his town from bandits and troublemakers. He keeps it a secret from his grandparents since they know that his body isn’t in the best condition and they try to keep him busy with chores in their house. When they’re found by the Avatar gang and Kaito shows off his skills to them, his grandparents would realize how capable he is and would give him their blessing to go with them. (But they’d ask his new friends to watch over him so that he doesn’t hurt himself or do anything too stupid). Once he’s with the group, Kaito would act just like in the canon verse. An energetic, confident dork who pushes the others to train for the upcoming war and trying to sell his image as a hero. But of course he’d still have a heart of gold and will show care for his friends. (And his toxic masculinity will be significantly dropped for this AU).

Maki as a Firebender feels very fitting tbh. I can see her mixing her fighting skills with her firebending even using the fire with weapons like swords or knives. I kinda have the idea that if she was forced to become an assassin sent to hunt the Avatar, she would have been trained to use Combustion bending. Making it very useful for sniper themed attacks that have a huge impact on her enemies. And overtime, once she acts on her own and starts hanging out with the gang, she learns to regain her freedom and is begins to use her original firebending her own way. Once she ditches her assassin job (on her own without any pestering dudebros) she ends up coming across cities and towns that have been ravaged by war. Some of them would be torn apart by gangs and soldiers. So while taking up a secret identity as ‘The Crimson Kitsune’, she ends up helping the orphans, street rats, poor and downtrodden and inadvertently giving them hope again. It’s a great way for her to regain her humanity.

And Tenko as a Kyoshi warrior is all too perfect for her. She lives and breathes the way of the Kyoshi and is quick to throw down with any menace that crosses her way. After Kaede and Saihara visit the island, Tenko decides to join the group to help the Avatar fulfill her destiny and ensure her safety. So she tags along and Kaede finds it nice to have a girl friend to hang with. She would definitely help Kaede with training and how to properly fight in battle; once Kaito joins the picture, she would definitely butt heads with him over the best way to train their friends. Regarding character arc, I think it would be interesting to see how her beliefs about justice and righteousness are challenged when she goes outside of the island. It’s not showing her that ‘not all men are menaces’ but about how not everything is black and white and how the war is impacting everyone on all sides. She’d definitely be in situations that will question what she thinks is the right decision to do and whether they deserve it based on what they stand for. But in the end, to quote a wondrous lady, “It’s not about deserve, it’s about what you believe”. And for Tenko, she believes in justice.

And those are my thoughts on this AU. Thank you for asking me this! This was really fun! And if you or anyone else has any more ideas for this AU, you’re more than welcome to reblog this with your thoughts. :)

#dangan ronpa #ndrv3 #new danganronpa v3 #Avatar The Last Airbender #kaede akamatsu #shuichi saihara #kaito momota #maki harukawa #tenko chabashira #avatar au

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exhoe-imagines · 6 years

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All of them! ㅇㅅㅇ 💕

Ok anon, you asked for it, and we tried our best to deliver!! I’m sorry it took us a while, but we had to think a lot about some of these questions. With that said, all of our answers are below the cut, so please enjoy reading all of them ~

If you want to know more about us admins/our fics, I would recommend reading/skimming over the answers below!!

1. what’s your name? do you use any aliases? what about your ghost writer name?

We both use aliases for writing, at least on this blog. Jewels’ is based on her first name, and mine is based on my last name. I do have my first name on my main blog though, so if you’re curious enough, you can dig around for that 👀 ~ Admin Ruby

2. name your favourite books; why are they your favorite books and do they affect your writing?

The Lover; Duras’ writing has inspired me to try and achieve complex emotions with simple concise language. Memoirs of a Geisha; capturing nostalgia and romanceTwilight; It was one of the first things I read seriously, and it helped me develop an understanding of internal conflict – which is often not expressed through dialogue. Demian; It showed me how to use symbolismAlso, anything by Jane Austen. I love her plots. ~ Admin Jewels

I’ll be honest when I say that while I love reading, I haven’t read a lot. I think I have a lot of books to explore, so I don’t think it would be fair for me to choose a favorite with my limited knowledge. On that note, when I do read, I try to look at the style of the book the most. How would I change it? Is there anything I want to take from it to include in my own writing? ~ Admin Ruby

3. name your favorite movies; why are they your favorite movies and do they affect your writing?

Along with all of the film adaptions of the books previously listed, I also love Film Noir and French New Wave movies. They have unusual plots filled with mystery and intrigue which I try to include in my writing. ~ Admin Jewels

Sci-fi, crime, and emotional movies are my favorite. The futuristic and supernatural aspect of the first give me a million ideas for AU’s, and the emotional and crime side of films help me delve deeper into my inspirations for characters. They make me think about what the characters are feeling, and what extremes they could be pushed to under certain circumstances ~ Admin Ruby

4. why do you like writing? what inspired you to put pen to paper?

My undying love for my men tbh ~ Admin Jewels

Writing gives me a way to express my thoughts and feelings, something I’m not good at verbalizing normally ~ Admin Ruby

5. what’s your favorite place to write? do you need a certain atmosphere?

I have to be unrushed and in a quiet environment. Writing on my laptop in bed is nice ~ Admin Jewels

I love places away from home. When we went on our beach vacation, I was able to get so much done. Also, whenever it rains or is super cold!! ~ Admin Ruby

6. tag any writers that you want to collab with!

Collabs aren’t a top priority of ours, at least right now, but if we were to consider one, it would be with a close mutual/friend ~ Admin Ruby and Admin Jewels

7. when writing, how do you begin? how do you end?

I begin by setting the atmosphere of my universe. That includes scenery and excessive description of the mood. I like to keep my endings simple and uncomplicated ~ Admin Jewels

I usually start with a rough outline, basic character descriptions, and an overview of the plot. Towards the end, I focus on editing and making sure the emotions I wanted to be presented are visible through my writing ~ Admin Ruby

8. how many wips do you currently have? which one is your favorite as of the moment?

I have 4 current works in progress, all of which are series. My favorite is The Knowing because it fits my current vibes ~ Admin Jewels

Oh, I’ve got easily 15-20+ right now. Some are just basic outlines while others I’m a couple thousand words into. My favorite as of now would have to either be the reincarnation au that Jewels and I are working on or the Yifan oneshot I just finished planning!! ~ Admin Ruby

9. what time of the day your write best? what season affects your writing the most?

I write best at night. As for seasons, I find that I tend to start fics in the summer and return to them in the fall and winter ~ Admin Jewels

I usually write best in the afternoon or super late at night. Each season gives me different feels too. Summer makes me think of exciting and adventurous fics, spring is soft and fresh, fall is warm and nostalgic, and winter is sad and lonely ~ Admin Ruby

10. describe your writing in five sentences or less.

My writing attempts to capture the scenes that I visualize throughout my daily life. My ideas are a mixture of memories but also of plots I haven’t lived. I use a mixture of inspiration from movies and books, and try to capture my feelings of the ideas into words to explain them ~ Admin Jewels

I want my writing to be as descriptive and powerful as possible, and I’ll write in any way that I think that will come across. Some of my fics are super long and drawn out. Others are short but strong. All of them though, express a simple idea, but with a complex view of life hidden underneath ~ Admin Ruby

11. describe yourself when writing in ten sentences or less.

I’m recording the scenes as if I’m living through them. I try to capture the feelings and essence of the characters as if I am them. I want it to be similar to a movie, where you can feel the characters emotions and actions as if they were your own ~ Admin Jewels

I focus a lot on the words I choose to describe things. I want my reader, whoever they might be, to feel what I’m trying to express. I try to use descriptive language that appeals to all of the senses and pulls the reader into the story. By doing so, I feel that they can relate more to the characters and the emotions in the fic ~ Admin Ruby

12. what do you associate with each of your stories? with your writing in general?

My scenes always include rain and emo music, along with some hunk, whether it be Sehun or Yoongi ~ Admin Jewels

I always think of my scenes having a free and even reckless feeling to them. The decisions my characters make might not always be the smartest, but they take some guts ~ Admin Ruby

13. what themes/images are you most comfortable with writing about? what themes/images are you most uncomfortable with writing about?

I am uncomfortable writing mundane or plotless fics, and try to stick to shocking or forbidden themes (ex. Kidnapping, crime, prostitution, etc.) Instead of focusing on cliche and commonly understood aspects of human psychology, I try to explore the deeper and darker workings of our minds ~ Admin Jewels

I’m comfortable writing a lot of things. Darks themes or images aren’t something that scare or intimidate me too much. If I were to mention anything that puts me on edge, though, it would be toxic relationships. It doesn’t matter who the love interest in the fic is, if they pose a ‘threat’ to the reader, I don’t want to romanticize it ~ Admin Ruby

14. write a personal history/mini autobiography/author description that you don’t mind sharing.

I think one thing to mention about me is that my mindset of writing has changed a lot since writing on here. Originally, when I first joined the blog, I was writing for my own enjoyment. Now, however, I find myself gaining joy from bringing other people’s fantasies to life ~ Admin Jewels

I’ve been writing for a little over two years now, with many writing blogs and accounts across many forms of social media, and I have to say, I haven’t lost the spark for it even now. Being able to connect with others through my stories, and having people genuinely enjoy them makes me super happy ~ Admin Ruby

15. three pieces of your writing that people need to read to understand your writing and you?

Faithful part one and the introductions to The Knowing and Don’t ~ Admin Jewels

Definitely Riptide... For sure... Probably Can’t Hold Back and Farewell Summer too ~ Admin Ruby

16. three pieces of other’s writing that people need to read to understand your inspirations and you?

Crumbling Down by @yeolsmuffin , Pink by @soobadnoonecanstopher , and The Pawns and The Kings by @kreatingkpop ~ Admin Jewels

Blanc et Noir by @duizhangdeluxe is for sure one of the ones I think of off the top of my head, along with these two mxm fics on AO3 (x) (x) ~ Admin Ruby

17. three films that people need to watch to understand you?

Mother!, Highway, and the 90’s Dracula ~ Admin Jewels

Love, Simon, Your Name, Anastasia ~ Admin Ruby

18. make a playlist for people to listen to if they want to understand you.

El Condor Pasa - Simon and Garfunkel Sexual Healing - Marvin Gaye Yayo - Lana del ReySweet Dreams - EurythmicsStrangers in the Night - Frank SinatraClair de Lune - Debussy

~ Admin Jewels

Girls like Girls - Hayley KiyokoJet Black Heart - 5SOSMagic - ColdplayParadise - Fanxy ChildLoser - BIGBANGKing - Lauren Aquilina

~ Admin Ruby

19. how often does real life segue into your writing? is any of your writing based on events from your own life?

The feelings and emotions are usually based on what I’m feeling in real life at the time, but thankfully I’ve never been kidnapped by a mafia boss *wink wink* wouldn’t mind though if it were vampire!Yoongi *wink wink* ~ Admin Jewels

You can totally tell what kind of mood I’m in when I’m writing. My emotions heavily influence my writing, along with some events. With that said, like Jewels’ fics, the plots are exaggerated LOL ~ Admin Ruby

20. describe your writing life in one sentence.

My writing life is an outlet for repressed emotions ~ Admin Jewels

My writing gives me a way to express emotions and thoughts I can’t express verbally ~ Admin Ruby

21. which self-doubts plague you the most often? which ones don’t you worry about?

I find myself most insecure about the plots of my fics as well as character development. I don’t worry about smut or descriptive language ~ Admin Jewels

Angst is for sure one of the things I worry about the most. I never feel like I capture it the way I want to. Slow burns too. I worry I rush them too much. I think I do pretty good with supernatural or mystical aspects of fics though!! ~ Admin Ruby

22. your favourite characters to write and why.

I like misunderstood or emotionally repressed romantic interests that open up to the reader over time ~ Admin Jewels

Determined characters!! Whether it’s the reader or another character, I always enjoy writing them trying to achieve a goal ~ Admin Ruby

23. what emotions do you like capturing the most? what emotions are the hardest to capture when writing?

The easiest emotions for me are angst (especially grief and jealousy) and under the influence. It’s hard for me to write a lack of emotion, even if the reader is in a content state ~ Admin Jewels

I think I capture anger pretty well. On good days I think my fluffy/loving writing isn’t that bad either. I would say shock is a hard one for me to grasp ~ Admin Ruby

24. name one fact about yourself that you want your readers to know about you.

I’m currently studying Political Science, which I think heavily affects my writing ~ Admin Jewels

I’m super emotional...like extremely so. I think my writing shows that a bit, but not as much as I think it could ~ Admin Ruby

25. one piece of advice that you want your readers to have; writing and non-writing pieces are okay.

Let go of any notions you have of “perfect” writing. Create your own style that suits you best ~ Admin Jewels

Don’t let anyone diminish how you feel about something. As long as you don’t express your emotions in a way that harms others/yourself, then you shouldn’t apologize for them ~ Admin Ruby

26. what are your writing goals for the week? for the month? for the year? how many words/poems do you write per week?

My main goal is always to keep up with my series, not necessarily under a time constraint though ~ Admin Jewels

I try to finish a fic/writing piece once a week, no matter how small it is ~ Admin Ruby

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Well, that was a long list. If you’re reading this, anon (or anyone else who got this far) I hope you enjoyed all of our answers!! Thank you for the ask ~~

#ask game #get to know the admins #get to know the blogger #get to know the writers

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