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irishseeeker · 3 years

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the story of us

summary: Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

find chapter 1 here or here

find chapter 2 here or here

find chapter 3 here or here

find chapter 4 here or here

find chapter 5 part 1 here or here

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chapter 5 part 2: all along there was some invisible string tying you to me

Anthony Bridgerton was an idiot.

He wasn’t just an idiot. You see, usually idiots are not aware of their idiocy. They live carefree and blissfully unaware of their idiocy.

Anthony knew he was being an idiot.

It was eating him alive.

He didn’t stop it, though. He didn’t know what else to do. He kept his distance from Kate as much as he could. It was the only thing he could think to do.

It was just so difficult.

He would screw it up. He would break them. It’s what he did. He screwed things up. He had nearly screwed things up with Daphne and Simon, he had screwed things up with Siena and he would screw things up with Kate.

Kate had been a constant in his life since he was nineteen years old.

Kate was his lifeline.

Anthony knew he shouldn’t put that all on her but he didn’t have a choice. There was nothing he could control when it came to Kate Sheffield. He had been completely hers since the moment they sat down in that lecture hall and she announced that he was wrong to their entire lecture.

Then proceeded to argue with him for the next thirty minutes.

He never stood a chance.

Kate deserved everything. She didn’t need someone who had an irrational fear of dropping dead from a bee sting and couldn’t manage a healthy relationship.

It’s not like he tried.

What was the point? They weren’t Kate.

Anthony needed time.

He needed time to figure it out. He could manage it. He had to get his head straight and learn to just erase his feelings and the constant pain. He had to learn to adapt and inevitably watch her be happy with someone else.

If they got too close, they would implode. The fine line between them had grown thinner and thinner and they were in the danger zone. They had been since their kiss.

It couldn’t happen again.

The thing about Kate was she still had that magic.

Kate believed in love. Kate wanted that struck by lightning, unconditional and inconceivable type of love. She deserved that type of love.

Kate deserved to feel the way Anthony felt every time he looked at her.

Anthony wasn’t a complete pessimist, he knew love existed. He had grown up watching his parents madly in love until his dad died. His mother had barely recovered from it. Anthony still hadn’t recovered from it. Violet Bridgerton still had bad days, days where she forgot to pick up Hyacinth or Gregory from school or lay in bed all day, barely moving. How could he do that to Kate? How could he let himself go through that?

That type of love wasn’t something he could give her.

That’s why he couldn't try with Kate. If there was a chance something could happen between them, he wouldn’t take it.

He wouldn't ruin that kind of love for her.

He would always love her, he would just have to let someone else do it.

He just had to figure out how to.

His only plan so far was avoiding her.

That plan was pretty flawed so far.

Anthony didn’t want to hurt Kate. He knew he was hurting her anyway, he didn’t miss her hurt expressions or uncharacteristic silences when he made an excuse that he had to go out for a while or that he would be late coming home. He was trying to fix things before something bad happened.

It’s just incredibly difficult to avoid the one person you spend all your time with and you happen to live with.

He wasn’t necessarily avoiding her, he was just distancing himself temporarily from her while he sorted things out. which is something he liked to convince himself of to try not feel like a complete and utter asshole.

He had even booked hotel rooms to try to get some sleep. How could he sleep when Kate was a few metres away from him? How could he concentrate on anything but Kate when she was close to him?

He needed to protect them.

He needed boundaries.

He also needed Kate.

“Anthony!” Hyacinth shouted cheerfully, grinning widely at her brother as she ran towards him from the school’s front door. Anthony had been leaning against the railing of the gate, waiting for Hyacinth and Gregory to finish school.

His afternoon meetings had been cancelled so he called their nanny, Pippa and told her to take the rest of the day off. His mother had been down at Aubrey Hall for the week with builders planning some reconstruction and she was due back this evening. She hadn’t said anything yet but he suspected it had something to do with preparations for Daphne’s wedding. Anthony wanted to see his siblings and he needed a distraction from the million thoughts running through his head.

“Hi titch,” Anthony said, grinning back at her as he leaned down and picked her up, resting her on his hip. She was too old at seven to be carried around, but he didn’t really care. He needed Hyacinth to stay little for as long as possible. “How was school? Have you seen Greg?”

“It was fun,” She murmured, resting her cheek on his shoulder and letting out a small yawn. “We had to draw our favourite animal, so I obviously drew Newton.”

Anthony couldn’t stop the smirk breaking out on his face. “Obviously. Can I see?”

Hyacinth nodded slowly, wiggling out of his arms so she could open up her Jurassic Park backpack. She pulled out a piece of paper with her drawing, which had a crayon version of what Anthony guessed was Hyacinth, Gregory, Kate, Anthony and the ginger blob in the middle that was Newton.

Something inside of Anthony’s chest clenched.

“Be careful,” Hyacinth scolded, prying the paper out of Anthony’s hands. “I’m going to give it to Kate.”

Anthony bent down to Hyacinth’s eye level, smiling at her as he held open her back and put the picture back inside. “Kate will love it.”

Kate would love it. She was so incredible with Hyacinth and Gregory and they adored her. Kate kept everything they had given her over the years, it had been pinned up on Anthony’s fridge along with the drawings and pictures he’d received from them since Kate had moved in.

They also adored her demon corgi, who had taken over Anthony’s flat for weeks. The little shit climbed into his bed every single night and he knew Anthony wouldn’t kick him out. He had given up a long time ago.

He also started walking him whenever Kate couldn’t, she usually brought him in the evenings and Anthony in the morning when he went for his daily jog.

It made Kate insanely happy when he did it, so obviously Anthony was going to do it.

He had quickly snapped a sly picture when Hyacinth wasn’t looking, he had to send it to Kate. There was no harm in it. Right?

It was just a picture.

Anthony: [sent an image]

Anthony: Your demon inspired Hyacinth’s picture for animal day. She’s excited to show you this later.

Kate: omg. I want to cry that is so bloody cute. Can’t wait to pin it up on the fridge. You look like you’ve put on a few pounds though x

Kate: please do not talk about your godson like that

Anthony: Please, I’m still the best looking guy you’ll ever know.

Kate: sorry, it’s spelled p-a-t-h-e-t-i-c*

Anthony: Sorry, it’s spelled I-am-letting-you-live-in-my-flat*

Kate: My presence is a gift.

Anthony: Also-We’re not getting into this again. I have no familial relation to Newton.

Kate: He has your middle name!

Anthony: Dogs don’t have middle names!

Kate: Do you want to see his birth certificate?

Anthony: Do you mean the certificate you made yourself and framed on your wall? Unfortunately, I’ve seen it more than once. That’s enough for a lifetime.

Kate: [sent an image]

Anthony: Your middle finger is a bit wonky.

Kate: [sent an image]

Anthony: I hope your boss saw you take that.

Anthony chuckled under his breath as he looked up from his phone, spotting Gregory talking to a few of his friends across the playground before waving at Anthony, jogging towards them. He glanced back at the text chain, internally cursing at himself. Why did he always have to flirt with her? He couldn’t help it.

“Hey mate!” Anthony grinned as Gregory reached them, wearing his football kit. They were heading straight to Gregory’s football training in a nearby park, where Anthony and Hyacinth would go for a walk and wait for training to finish. Anthony ruffled his hair, taking his bag and sports bag. “Good day?”

“Hey!” Gregory said, grunting at Hyacinth before beaming up at Anthony. Anthony knew it wouldn’t last forever but he’d pay every cent he had to keep Greg looking at him like he was his hero. “Are you coming to watch me play football?”

“Of course I am,” Anthony said, nudging at Hyacinth to start walking towards the car. “I can’t wait. Are you excited? Come on, we better get going.”

“Anthony! Hello!” A blonde woman Anthony had definitely seen before was standing around a group of women, with their kids running around them and screaming. She practically pushed another woman out of the way to get to him. “How are you?”

He couldn’t for the life of him remember who she was. “Hello,” He said lamely, glancing at Gregory and Hyacinth who looked bored and were absolutely no help. “I’m great, thank you. How are you? Nice to see you again. I’m sorry, we’re just in a bit of a rush.”

It was slightly rude of him but once one of these parents cornered you, you’d be stuck there for hours. He wasn’t going to get stuck talking about a bake sale for the next half an hour.

“I’m lovely thank you-Oh! Yes, of course. You’re such a good brother. Have a good day!” The blonde woman called after Anthony as he hastily nudged Hyacinth and Gregory along. “If you need any help or are interested in the bake sale next week, I can give you my number-”

“Get in,” Anthony practically hissed urgently, waving his hand in the direction of the women but quickly flicking open his boot and car.

“One of them is Sasha’s mum,” Hyacinth grumbled, glancing back at the herd of women whose eyes had followed them towards Anthony’s car. “They think you’re good looking.”

Anthony threw their bags in the boot and opened the back door, winking at Hyacinth as she climbed into the car. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

Anthony laughed as Hyacinth and Gregory both made disgusted faces.

Gregory frowned at his passenger side. “I’m too old for a car seat.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “The law would argue otherwise. In.”

Gregory took one look at his brother’s face and didn’t argue, grumbling as he moved into the car seat. Anthony checked their seatbelts and once everything was set, he climbed in himself and drove off to the park.

“When are you and Kate getting married?”

“What?” Anthony’s eyes snapped towards the rearview mirror, widening as he looked at Hyacinth.

Hyacinth didn’t seem phased whatsoever by her question. “When are you and Kate getting married?”

“We’re not,” Anthony said with a steady voice, glancing towards Greg who was too consumed with his Nintendo to care about the conversation. Is that what they both taught? “Why would you ask that?”

Hyacinth shrugged. “Daph and Simon are getting married.”

“That’s because they’re engaged.”

“Oh,” Hyacinth said slowly, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she processed the conversation. “Why aren’t you and Kate engaged?”

“Kate and I are friends,” Anthony explained, feeling the dampness of his palms against the steering wheel. “We’re not like Daphne and Simon.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Anthony said, a slight edge of irritation in his voice as he focused back on the road. He didn’t need to be mean, Hyacinth didn’t understand what she was talking about. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Well, people in love get married right?”

“Yes.”

“Daphne and Simon love each other?”

“They do.”

“Did Mum and Dad love each other?”

Anthony felt himself soften. “Very much.”

“Don’t you love Kate?”

“I do,” Anthony said hesitantly because he did in the exact way Hyacinth was asking but he didn’t really feel like getting into that. “People can love each other and not get married. It’s different for Kate and I-”

“No it’s not,” Hyacinth interrupted, a finality to the tone of her voice. It was the tone she used before she had a complete fit or meltdown. “I better be a flower girl.”

Anthony knew he was fighting a losing battle, and the irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him in relation to his current predicament. “At our non-existent wedding? Of course you can.”

Hyacinth stuck his tongue out at her and it reminded him so much of Kate, he nearly laughed out of relief and pain.

There it was again.

Kate.

Kate was constantly on his mind.

This was the problem. It was hit fault. This wasn’t the first time a family member, well, not just his family-anyone-had suggested there was something going on between him and Kate. They weren’t just friends. Kate was his best friend, she was everything but she had always been something a little bit more.

He had found her eight years ago and he didn’t know what to do.

Now, it felt like it was too late.

What the hell was he going to do?

Anthony couldn’t get Kate’s hurt look out of his head as he charged out of the house. It even momentarily distracted him from the blind fury he was feeling while he drove to the police station.

Benedict and Simon were right behind him, Benedict climbing into the front and Simon into the back. Anthony put the car in gear, speeding out of the driveway. The police station Colin was detained in wasn’t far and Anthony had already sorted out everything.

“Why did you do that?” Benedict asked, breaking the silent and tense atmosphere in the car as Anthony danced along the speeding limit, his foot pressing onto the accelerator to get to Colin.

He was relieved his brother was okay because Anthony was going to kill him himself.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you let Kate come? Over Simon?” Benedict asked, staring flatly at Anthony. “No offence Simon.”

Simon shook his head, pursing his lips. “None taken. I’m happy-well, not happy-happy to help.”

“I didn’t let Kate do anything.” Anthony said, in complete disbelief Benedict was bringing this up. There was a reason he didn’t let Kate come, he was trying to distance her from all of his shit. She didn’t need to be involved in this.

“Oh right,” Benedict said, sarcasm dripping in his tone which pissed off Anthony even further. “That makes sense. As if Kate isn’t involved in everything to do with you and our family. Kate is a part of our family. Why haven’t you done something about it?”

“She doesn’t need to be involved in this.” What the hell was Benedict doing? Why did it feel like everyone was against him? Anthony was trying, he was bloody trying and everything still went to complete shit.

Benedict didn’t buy a word of it. “Are you ever going to tell her?”

“Don’t start this shit tonight Ben,” Anthony said, his tense voice a warning, not a request. “Our brother is in jail.”

“I’m just saying-”

“I didn’t ask,” Anthony interrupted swiftly, his grip on the wheel tightening significantly. He could practically feel the vein in his forehead bulging. “Drop it.”

Anthony could see Benedict glance back at Simon, making some sort of gesture but Simon just shrugged, shaking his head.

Smart move, Hastings.

“Let’s go,” Anthony said once they arrived at the station, getting out of the car and walking into the empty police station. He paid Colin’s bail, filling out a form as he waited for an officer to bring Colin out.

Colin eventually appeared, looking worse for wear. He didn’t look in any way hurt, which made Anthony relax slightly. The blue shirt he was wearing was rumpled and the mop of brown hair on the top of his head was sticking up in various directions, but he was okay.

“Anthony-”

“Not a fucking word,” Anthony snapped, his voice deadly low as he looked at Colin who shut his mouth quickly. “Follow Ben to the car. Now.”

Benedict lightly squeezed Colin on the shoulder as Colin walked towards him, opening and closing his mouth before deciding to do what Anthony said.

Anthony had to take a few deep breaths before he walked out towards the car. He needed to keep his cool. Whatever happened, Colin was his brother and it didn’t need to result in a huge argument. As long as Colin took responsibility for his actions, it would be relatively okay.

Colin was twenty-two years old and still acting like a complete child. He traveled whenever he wasn’t at university and didn’t show any responsibility when it came to their family and his own life. Anthony was trying to not get too involved, getting Colin to even go to university had taken ten years off his life but sometimes Colin really tested his patience.

Anthony’s cool temperament lasted about twenty seconds once he got into the car.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

Anthony snorted while Benedict sighed deeply. “It never is, is it Colin?” “I was drunk,” Colin said, slumping in his seat like Gregory did when he was annoyed about something. “Marina dumped me. I met up with my mates and got drunk. It was a mistake. How was I supposed to know you’re not meant to piss on statues?”

Anthony hesitated for a moment, glancing back at his brother’s face. Colin was in pain. He had really liked Marina, the whirlwind he had met while skiing in France over Christmas. Anthony had never seen his brother fall so hard. “I’m sorry about Marina, Colin. I am. That’s not an excuse to act like a complete and utter idiot and break the law.”

“It was an accident!” Colin snapped back, his voice rising in line with Anthony's. “What do you want me to do, Ant?”

“I just bailed you out of jail,” Anthony snapped, the anger he had been holding in finally coming out. He was racing home within the speed limit, the confinement of the car making him claustrophobic. “I made sure that that stayed off your permanent record so you didn’t get thrown out of university or asked about in job interviews. Instead of acting like a spoiled little brat you could be a little more grateful and shut up.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re right,” Anthony snapped, really focusing on not losing his head. “Yet I did it anyway.”

“I’m so fucking sorry I’m not perfect like you, Anthony,” Colin said, his voice full of venom as Anthony pulled up into the driveway. “That I’m not perfect like Ben, Daph, El, Franny or fuck it, Dad! I’m so sorry I don’t live up to your perfect expectations.”

“Oh shut up Colin,” Anthony snapped, his voice just as angry as Colin's. “You fucked up. I’m not interested in listening to your sob story to make yourself into a victim. Take some responsibility for once in your life.”

Anthony felt the guilt flood his body as he spoke to his brother. He knew he would be ashamed of himself later, he already was as the words sunk in. He was just so angry. Colin never took responsibility for anything and this was just another time he had gone too far and expected no consequences and Anthony to pick up the pieces.

“Fine,” Colin said, shaking his head as he flung the door open. “Here’s some responsibility for you. I’m dropping out of university.”

Then he slammed Anthony’s car door shut and all hell broke loose.

Anthony didn’t have anything left to say.

His fight with Colin, every insult and dagger he had thrown at him, circled around in his head and rang in his ears. He couldn’t find the words to speak as Kate drove them home. He wanted to say something, to put Kate at ease as she anxiously glanced at him the entire way home.

He just didn’t have anything left in him.

Colin’s words were on repeat in his head like a broken record.

“I don’t need to try to be a carbon copy of Dad to figure out my life. I’m not you, Anthony. Desperately trying to be someone he’ll never be.”

Colin was right.

Anthony sat down on the couch in his flat, his limbs heavy and deflated as the reality of his brother’s words hit him like a tonne of bricks.

He then did something that he hadn’t done since the day his father died, in his mother’s bedroom, away from his family.

He cried.

The sobs hit him like a wave and moved throughout his body, flooding out of him and everything he had been holding in for years. He cried for his dad, who he missed so much it killed him a little bit inside every single day. He cried for the man he desperately was trying to be but knew he never would. He cried for his family who had a gaping hole in it he could never fill. He cried for his family, who he tried so hard for but somehow always managed to fuck it up.

Anthony cried for everything that he had lost, everything that he was selfish enough to be angry about. Everyone he didn’t go, everything he didn’t do and everyone he didn’t meet because he had to step up.

He cried for Kate, the person who made him feel like he was worth something and that he was doing something right sometimes. He could never allow himself to let her know how he felt. He couldn’t do that to her.

Kate held him against her chest, her head resting on top of his as she moved her hand up and down his back, murmuring soothing words as he cried until nothing else could come out.

Anthony was surprised when Colin showed up at his flat the next morning. Kate had made him a cup of tea before putting Newton on his lead, throwing one final glare at Colin and a reassuring smile at Anthony before leaving their flat.

His flat.

It was incredibly awkward, as both the Bridgerton men sat on Anthony’s couch in complete silence. Colin was tapping his foot against the ground, looking up at Anthony and back at the floor as his mouth opened and closed as he decided what to say.

“I’ve always liked Kate.”

That took Anthony by surprise. “Who wouldn’t?”

“For a second there,” Colin said, a half chuckle coming out of his mouth that was muffled by his pained expression. “I didn’t think she’d let me in.”

“As someone who has been on the wrong side of Kate many times,” Anthony said, smiling slightly as leaned back into the couch. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“She’s terrifying.”

“Absolutely petrifying,” Anthony said, nodding in agreement. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Do you hate me?”

Anthony’s head snapped up, the strange lightness of their conversation fading completely. “Of course I don’t hate you.”

“I’d hate me.”

Despite everything that had happened, Anthony was reminded of who was sitting right in front of him. Colin was so like their dad it hurt Anthony sometimes. He was fun, happy, irrational, spontaneous and he cared so passionately about the people in his life. He was also young and still trying to figure things out. He made mistakes. He had his heartbroken. He was just trying.

They were all just trying.

“I love you, Colin,” Anthony said firmly, because it was true and there wasn’t anything his brother could say to ever make Anthony think or feel otherwise. “There’s nothing that could ever happen to make me not love you. Okay? I only want what is best for you. I know how unreasonable I can be sometimes. Maybe I was wrong for thinking what was best for me is what is best for you. I just want you to be okay if something ever happened to me.”

Colin visibly gulped. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Ant. I’ll never be more sorry for what I said about Dad. I didn’t mean it. I am a horrible person for saying that to you. I’ll never forgive myself for it. I do mean this, though. You’re not Dad, Ant. You’re you. You don’t need to be Dad. You don’t need to be anyone else but you. Everyone needs you to be you. We all have gotten this far because you’re you, Ant. Not Dad. Not anyone. You.”

Anthony was absolutely speechless as he listened to Colin. Colin and him had clashed over the years but they were so alike in so many ways.

“I know I haven’t always made things easy on you. I think about him a lot. If he would be proud of me. I don’t think he would.”

“Of course he would,” Anthony said firmly, finally finding his voice. “There’s so much to be proud of. You’re a fantastic person, Colin. You annoy the shit out of me sometimes but you’re an incredible person.”

“I want you to be proud of me.” Colin’s voice was shaky as he spoke, the emotion of the situation finally coming to the surface.

“Colin,” Anthony said seriously, looking at his brother. “There’s no world where I’m not proud of you. You shouldn’t worry about what I think-”

“Anthony,” Colin said seriously, looking his brother in the eye for the first time that morning. “All I think about is what you think. You’re the voice inside of my head. Even if you sometimes annoy the shit out of me, I need you there. I know we all wouldn’t be okay if it wasn’t for you. I’m so sorry I haven’t shown you how much I appreciate that. I’m so sorry. I’ll never be more sorry for that.”

The large lump in Anthony’s throat was becoming extremely painful. “You don’t need to apologize-”

“I do and I am,” Colin said, standing up and moving towards Anthony. “I love you. You’re the type of person all of us can only hope we can be. You’re my big brother. I’m going to hug you now. It’s going to be awkward but I feel like it’s necessary.”

They wrapped their arms around each other, slapping each other’s backs and holding onto each other tightly.

They eventually pulled back, both turning their heads slightly to compose themselves and wipe their eyes with the back of their sleeves.

“That’s enough emotion for a lifetime,” Colin murmured, moving back to his original seat and letting out a sigh. “Beer?”

“Beer.”

Of all the places Anthony Bridgerton imagined himself to be at this point in his life, it wasn’t at his sisters and best friend’s engagement party.

Simon had surprised Anthony by showing up to his flat after him and Colin had sorted things out. Simon had kept a respectful distance since Anthony had found out about Daphne and him, not pushing Anthony into anything and forcing their friendship back to the place it was.

Instead, something else had happened. They were in a new place. They were starting off a clean slate. They were back to hanging out, playing golf, grabbing dinner and drinks. Anthony was his best man. He didn’t want to hold grudges anymore. He wanted his best friend back.

The past week had surprisingly been great. He had decided to put everything on hold with Kate and he had spent an unbelievable amount of time with her this week, going against every part of his initial plan. The only bad part of his week was moving Kate into her new flat. The flat felt so empty and lifeless without her.

He even missed Newton, which is something he’d keep to himself until his deathbed.

Simon joined him at the bar, smacking his back. “Good speech, mate.”

“Mm,” Anthony said, giving him a sarcastic grin as he finished off his whiskey. “I’m happy you enjoyed it.”

“It really came from the heart.”

“Let’s not get soppy,” Anthony said, nodding in thanks to the bartender as he topped up his whiskey glass. “I have just decided I can tolerate you again.”

“Please, I was your favourite person until Miss Kate Sheffield came along,” Simon teased, grinning at Anthony’s side-eye. “Not that I blame you. She’s really something.”

“Back to that speech though,” Simon said, his back to the bar as he surveyed the buzzing dance floor. “I don’t think it was us you were entirely talking about.”

Kate.

Anthony’s heart stopped in his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t,” Simon said, downing the rest of the contents of his glass with a gleeful smirk. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go dance with my fiance.”

Bastard.

His family really needed to learn to mind their own bloody business.

“Anthony.”

Anthony’s vision was fuzzy. He could hear a light buzzing in his ear. Kate’s words were still playing in his ears.

“Forget me. I don’t want to speak to you ever again.”

He couldn’t let this happen. He wouldn’t let this happen. He had tried so hard to protect them and it only ended with him fucking everything up so royally.

He felt like he wasn’t in control of his body, his eyes were stinging and his limbs were moving out of his own accord. He was bustling through the crowd, trying to find Kate who had disappeared into it.

“Anthony!”

Anthony barely heard his own name until someone grabbed his arm. Francesca.

“Did you know Michael was here?”

Anthony was still moving across the room, Francesca still beside him. “What?”

“Can you believe it?” Francesca said, her bottom lip sticking out as she shook her head in disbelief. More emotions were running across Francesca’s face than Anthony had ever seen in his life. “Ben invited him. John didn’t even know! Apparently he’s Ben's new protégé.”

“Fran, can you hold on a second?” Anthony said, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair, pulling at it. “I’m sorry. I-I need to find Kate. I have to find Kate.”

“Anthony,” Francesca said, her face flooding with concern as she steadied Anthony’s balance with her two hands on his arms. “What is going on? What happened?”

“Anthony.” Benedict had arrived, with Sophie beside him, an anxious look across his face.

“Piss off Ben,” Francesca snapped, her anger at her brother not fading in the slightest as she turned back to Anthony. “Anthony? What happened?”

“He’s asked to intern with me this summer! What was I meant to say Fran? I didn’t realize there was something going on between you-“

“There is nothing going on between us! I’m with John!” Francesca hissed, her anger momentarily shocking the two Bridgertons and Sophie. Francesca had always been calm, cool and collected. That wasn’t what was happening tonight. “I don’t need any relationship advice from someone who snuck around for over a year. Get off your pedestal.”

“It seems like Benedict can’t keep his nose out of anything.” Anthony spat out his brother’s name and didn’t care for Ben’s slight flinch. He needed someone else to blame.

He needed to find Kate.

“Someone had to do something!” Sophie snapped, her eyes completely on Anthony. “We’ve all watched this go on for years and it’s exhausting. Where’s Kate, Anthony?”

“What happened with Kate?” Francesca asked again, her eyes solely on Anthony.

“I was going to find her-“ Anthony said helplessly, his chest tightening which was making it hard to breathe. He had messed it up phenomenally. She was never going to forgive him. “It’s bad. We had a fight. A bad one.”

The meaning of his words seemed to translate as Sophie’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open slightly as she hastily turned to look around the room.

“I think you’ve done enough.” Sophie snapped, Anthony, Francesca and Benedict’s eyes were wide as they watched Sophie storm away in search of Kate.

“Ant-“

“It’s fine, Ben. I’m sorry I ruined your night. I have to go,” Anthony said, “This is my mess. I’ll fix it.”

“You don’t have to fix it alone.”

“I have to fix it with Kate.” Anthony said, charging through the rest of the crowd and searching everywhere for Kate. Benedict, Colin and Francesca were on his tail, trying to convince him to come inside and sit down and talk to them. He couldn’t. He tried her phone a million times that night but she didn’t pick up. He had to fix this.

Eventually, it was confirmed by Sophie that Kate had left the gallery. She had refused to let Sophie into her flat and that was as much as Anthony was told.

Kate was gone.

Anthony woke up with an excruciating headache and aching limbs. He grumbled as he sat up, feeling a hard exterior under him. He was sleeping in his old childhood bed.

The last time he had slept in this bed was the day before he had left university. The day before he met Kate and his life changed forever. He hated saying it, but it was true. His life had completely changed the minute he met and argued with Kate Sheffield and now-

Now he could have lost her forever.

“You’re up.”

Anthony jumped slightly as he saw Benedict and Colin standing at the foot of his bed, “Were you two watching me sleep? That’s creepy.”

“We were making sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit,” Benedict said carefully, a stern expression on his face but he cowered slightly as Anthony looked at him. Benedict had certainly meddled last night. “You drank a lot after Kate left.” “I’d be impressed with how much you drank if it wasn’t because of such tragic circumstances,” Colin joked, failing to lighten the mood with a joke. “I made you some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Anthony said sourly, nodding at Colin but not appreciating the reminder of what a terrible person Anthony was. Kate had gone and he couldn’t cope, so he drank until he passed out.

Why did he open his stupid mouth and tell her about the kiss? Why didn’t he tell her he loved her back? Why did he try to explain to her why they would never work? It was the everything he had been telling himself again and again and when he had said the words out last night, they were meaningless and stupid. The only thing they had achieved was destroying them both.

What was wrong with him?

He couldn’t get the look of anguish on her face out of his head.

He had done the one thing he had sworn he would never do.

He had hurt her.

“I’m sorry about the gallery, Ben.” Anthony said, shaking his head in shame.

“I’m not,” Benedict said, shrugging as he leaned against the wall. “We sold all of my pieces. I knew what I was doing when I put that piece up there. I’m sorry, Anthony. I really am. I never wanted it to cause all this.”

“You didn’t cause any of this,” Anthony said, shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh. “I did.”

“No, he definitely caused this,” Colin said, completely ignoring Benedict’s glare. “That was a dick move. Ant and Kate were always going to come to blows and have it out but you just threw the toaster into the bathtub with that stunt.”

“Anthony got involved with my love life!” Benedict exclaimed, turning around to glare at his younger brother. “I wanted to help-”

“That’s because Ant is relatively okay at sorting out everyone else’s love life and is absolutely shocking at sorting out his own,” Colin said, shooting Anthony a cheeky grin who just glared back. “Tell us what happened.”

“I was furious about the picture.” Anthony said slowly, not wanting to relive the events of last night ever again. He would have to, everytime he told this story and when he saw Kate again. If he saw her again. She had never responded to any of his calls or messages last night and he hadn’t tried again this morning.

He didn’t want to hurt her further by harassing her.

Anthony needed to see her and speak to her.

“I was acting really unfairly. We started arguing. I said some things. Kate said some things. I said something really stupid,” Anthony said, letting out a deep breath before he continued. “Kate told me she was in love with me. I didn’t say it back. I told her I remembered that kiss I had pretended to forget on my birthday last year. She told me she never wanted to speak to me again.”

“That,” Colin was the first one to speak, “That is a lot worse than I imagined.”

“Helpful Colin,” Benedict said dryly, sitting down on the bed beside Anthony and patting his shoulder. “You messed up. Yes. Kate is hurt. She’ll forgive you. You’re Kate and Anthony. You can fix this.”

“I don’t know, Ben. I’ve never seen that look on her face before. She won’t speak to me,” Anthony said, falling back onto the bed and feeling utterly hopeless. “She’s never going to forgive me. I don’t know what to say.”

Benedict bit his lip, nodding his head. “Ant, you’ve never been able to talk to us the way you’ve been able to talk to Kate.”

“The one person you can talk to won’t talk to you.” Colin said slowly, as if he was putting something together in his head.

Anthony and Benedict both turned towards Colin and raised an eyebrow.

Colin’s face lit up, as if he had just won the lottery. He grinned widely at his two brothers, who looked at him suspiciously. “I have an idea.”

Colin’s brilliant idea was therapy.

Apparently, Colin had a heart to heart with Penelope Fetherington the morning after their argument. Penelope and Eloise were studying together for the day at their house and Eloise had left Penelope in the kitchen with Colin whilst she went off for a shower.

Eloise had not been talking to Colin after the argument, which led to his and Penelope’s strange but heartfelt conversation.

Penelope recommended Colin go to therapy.

That’s how Anthony ended up taking Colin’s therapy appointment at 10am that Saturday morning.

“Why are you here today, Anthony?”

Anthony hadn’t been to therapy since university. It wasn’t for this reason. He had been stressed, having bad panic attacks and feeling overwhelmed by everything. He was back again, for similar but different reasons.

“My brothers thought it would be good if I spoke to someone.” Anthony answered honestly, not feeling entirely comfortable to open up to a complete stranger whose office he had walked into two minutes ago.

“Do you think you need to be here?” His therapist asked, scribbling something down in her notebook.

“I suppose so. No. Yes, I do. I do think so,” Anthony said, scrambling over his words before he sat up straighter in his seat. “I do. It’s what Kate would tell me to do.”

“Who is Kate?”

“Kate is my best friend,” Anthony said instinctively, the meaning of the words hitting him a few seconds later. “Well.”

“Well?”

“It’s complicated.”

His therapist looked straight at him, giving him a friendly but stern smile. “I’m trained in complicated.”

“We’re not currently speaking,” Anthony said slowly, deciding to just let it all out. This is what therapy was for, right? He could be honest for once in my life. “It’s all my fault.”

“How long has it been?” His therapist asked, glancing at the round clock on her wall.

“About 12 hours?”

“Okay.”

“That’s really strange for us,” Anthony hastily explained, quickly feeling embarrassed about the situation and if he was appearing overdramatic. “We talk all the time. We lived together up until last week.

His therapist continued to write down a few sentences, the scraping of the pen against her paper making Anthony’s skin itch. “Tell me what happened.”

“It was a bad argument,” Anthony began, the memories of last night filling him with a heavy dread. “My brother had put a picture of us, multiple pictures of us, on display in a gallery. I panicked and I reacted badly. We both said hurtful things. The worst we’ve ever had. She told me she was in love with me. I told her I remembered our kiss I pretended to forget over a year ago. It ended with her telling me she never wanted to see me again.”

“Do you love her back?”

The question caught Anthony completely off guard. This was the most honest he had been in a very long time and his therapist was brushing over a lot of details, focusing on particular ones. “No, I do.”

“But you didn’t tell her that?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” His therapist said, nodding her head as she continued to scribble down a few sentences. “That is complicated. Could you tell me about your parents?”

Anthony’s breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t face that today. When he had gone to therapy previously, they had sometimes spoken about his parents, mainly his father. Anthony didn’t have the strength. “I don’t want to talk about my father. I need to know what to say to Kate.”

“That’s okay,” She said, nodding her head slowly. “You have every right to not answer this question and I will drop it. Why do you not want to talk about your father?”

“He died when I was eighteen.” Anthony explained, figuring it would come out sooner or later.

“That must have been difficult.”

“It was.” Anthony’s words were caught between his teeth.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“I have seven,” Anthony answered, cracking his knuckles in his lap. “I’m the eldest.”

“I can imagine that’s a lot of responsibility at the age of eighteen,” She said slowly, as if she was trying to figure something out. “Especially when suffering from such a loss.”

“It is,” Anthony said, avoiding her eyes completely as he looked around the room. He didn’t want to talk about his family. That’s not why he came. “It’s my family. I’d do anything for them.”

“Why do you think you don’t deserve love?”

Anthony gaped at her. “I don’t think that.”

“If you were willing to step up and take responsibility for your family and ensure their happiness,” She said, leaning forward in her chair. “Why can’t you do the same for yourself?”

“I don’t want to lose her,” Anthony said, his voice coming out a lot shakier and lower than it had in a long time. “She’s everything to me. Everything. I screw things up. I’ve never been good with relationships. I desperately tried to not screw things up and I did it anyway. I really tried to stop feeling like this. I even went to America to stop feeling like this and try to find someone new. It just always comes back to this and now-now it’s too late.”

“This is terribly cliche, but it’s the truth. It’s never too late and you will never know until you try. Why are you so sure you and Kate will fail? I say you and Kate as there are two of you in this. It seems like you put a lot of pressure on yourself. When it comes to your family and your relationships.” Her words were hitting Anthony forcefully, completely overwhelming him. “You should try giving yourself a chance.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“You are standing in your own way. Why is that?”

He was getting really sick of all these questions.

“Kate deserves better.”

His therapist raised her eyebrow slightly, “Isn’t that for Kate to decide?”

Anthony had no response to that.

“Anthony, we have absolutely no control over what could happen in the future. Our fears will still exist in the past, present and future. What we can try to control is now. Good and bad things happen everyday. Nothing also happens everyday. Nothing sounds quite exhausting, don’t you think?”

“Sometimes it is easier to do nothing. Sometimes, we have to take a chance on the good or bad things happening,” She told him, smiling softly at him. “Sometimes, we just need to take that chance.”

Something just clicked.

He had to take that chance.

“I have to go,” Anthony jumped up, running a hand through his hair and slightly waving the other one around. “I have to talk to Kate. If she’ll talk to me, I’ll take that chance. Right? Right. Yes. Wow. Okay. Thank you, doctor. Thank you-”

“I’ll have my assistant book you in for an appointment next week,” His therapist responded, a slight smile on her face as she stood up to open the door for him. “Good luck, Anthony.”

Colin and Benedict stood up as Anthony walked into the waiting room, curious expressions on their faces.

“I have to tell Kate I’m in love with her.”

Anthony glanced down at his phone, which began buzzing his hand. Edwina’s name flashed on his screen.

Anthony answered the call, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Maybe it was Kate. Maybe she had lost her phone and that’s why she hadn’t been in contact with him last night. “Edwina?”

“Anthony,” Edwina’s shaky voice spoke through the phone, sending cold shivers down Anthony’s spine. “It’s Kate.”

Anthony had burst through the hospital doors, running up stairs and through doors until he found the room Kate was in after multiple directions from nurses, Colin and Benedict hot on his heels.

Edwina had reassured him that Kate was fine. Her brain scans and other injuries had come back completely clear, the worst thing that had happened was her leg had been broken.

He had to see her. He had to see her alive and breathing. He had to make sure she was okay.

“Kate.”

Anthony had never felt so nauseous and anxious in his entire life.

“Are you okay?”

Kate was there, sitting up in her hospital bed with her casted leg elevated in the air. She didn’t appear to have any other injuries, her dark hair was in a bun on the top of her head and she did have some scrapes and bruises along her arms, and a tiny scratch on her cheek.

“That's none of your business.”

That was the response he expected and it hurt just as he expected. He did deserve it.

“Kate was skating in Hyde Park when a cyclist ran into her, and she landed on her leg," Edwina explained carefully, anxiously glancing between Anthony and Kate. Benedict and Colin were behind Anthony, smiling awkwardly at everyone in the room and shooting a relieved expression at Kate. She smiled back at them, at least she wasn't icing them out.

Kate just refused to look at Anthony. “Get out.”

“We’re going to get some coffee in the canteen.” said Mary, beginning to drag an anxious looking Edwina out of the hospital room.

“Don’t you dare,” Kate snapped, raising her voice at her mother and sister. She pointed at the chairs they just vacated. “Anthony is the only one who will be leaving this hospital room.”

What did he expect? She had every right to be furious with him. It wasn't going to be easy and he would do whatever it took to fix this. To fix them. “I’ll wait in the waiting room until you want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

He nodded, making his way towards the doorway he had only come through. He knew Kate and pushing her wasn’t going to achieve anything. He had fucked up and he had to fix it in the way she wanted him to. “I’ll just be waiting then.”

And waited, he did.

He waited for two weeks until Kate was released from the hospital.

He tried everything. He had taken the time off work to be there during visiting hours, waiting for her to finally let him speak to her. He had drafted about fifty different speeches before she was released, thinking about everything he had spoken about with his therapist. He went to two more sessions during Kate’s stay and he felt something was really changing.

Except for Kate’s willingness to speak to him.

When he knocked on her door, she told him to get lost. When he brought her flowers, she threw them at him. When he brought her food, she wouldn’t touch it. She ignored his texts and calls.

She had every right to make him suffer and she was doing a superb job at it.

He spent his time on business calls or chatting with whoever was visiting Kate. Every Bridgerton but Anthony had been allowed in. He got to know her nurses and doctors, getting updates on Kate’s progress and asking them questions about her leg and the healing process.

Mary sat beside Anthony in the waiting room one afternoon, handing him a cup of coffee. “Thank you.”

“I started worrying less, you know.”

Anthony turns to look at Mary, frowning in confusion.

“Kate is a very good person. She takes care of people. She took care of Edwina and I more than she should have, especially after my husband died.” A sad expression appeared on her face. “My husband always said Kate tried to take care of him when her mother passed away. She was four years old.”

He smiled sadly, taking a small sip of his coffee. “That sounds like Kate.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Mary nodded her head, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. “I always wanted that for her. Someone who would take care of her and she would let them. I wasn’t so sure it would ever happen until she brought you home.”

Anthony blinked at Mary, completely taken aback. He had known Mary for eight years now and they had spent a good bit of time together, but he couldn’t remember ever speaking to her alone. Especially like this.

“I knew she finally had someone to take care of her. You’ve been so good to her.”

“I don’t know if she’ll forgive me this time Mary,” Anthony said, his voice croaky as he hung his head low. “I don’t know if I deserve to be forgiven.”

“Kate didn’t talk to her father and I for two weeks because we didn’t let her go to an Eminem concert when she was twelve years old,” Mary said, chuckling softly at the fond memory. “She will come around.”

“We all make mistakes, Anthony. I don’t know what happened between you two,” Mary said softly, reaching over to squeeze his hands. “I do know you’ll be able to fix yours.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Kate,” Edwina said, exhaustion flooding her voice as she pushed Kate’s wheelchair to a stop in front of the exit of the hospital. “Anthony’s car is the only car big enough to bring you home! You’re meant to lie across the back seat.”

Kate was glaring at Anthony with such an intensity, he was genuinely terrified. She was absolutely furious at the prospect of Anthony driving her home. “I’d rather walk.”

“I suppose you should have thought about that before you went skating on those death traps,” Anthony said, deciding that if she wouldn’t talk to him, he might be able to at least get an insult if he winded her up. Then, she would technically have spoken to him. “Hop on in.”

Kate’s mouth dropped open as she watched Anthony open up his back door, which had been filled with blankets and pillows to help Kate get comfortable. She knew she had no choice. The two nurses helped Kate into the backseat, buckling her in as Edwina got into Anthony’s car. Mary was following them home.

Kate, furious about recent events, was sulking in the back seat.

Edwina and Sophie hadn’t been overly kind to Anthony the first week after Kate’s accident. He didn’t blame them, he deserved every single bit of slack he got for what he’d done. They had eased up on him the last week, probably out of pure pity as he desperately tried to fix things with Kate who so far wanted nothing to do with him.

They finished their awkward car ride once Anthony parked in Kate’s flat’s underground car park. Now the fun really began. He would make himself useful in any way he could to help Kate, so Edwina and Mary had asked him to drive her home once he had offered.

“Kate,” Edwina said slowly, clearly nervous about what she was about to say as she opened her sister’s door. “Mum and I aren’t strong enough to get you out of the car.”

“Whose side are you on?” Kate snapped, realizing exactly what was going on. “There’s not a chance in hell-”

“I am on your leg’s side!” Edwina snapped, everyone’s eyes widening as Edwina’s temper flared. It was a rare sight. “I am losing the will to live here, Kate. Just let Anthony carry you upstairs and you can do whatever you want. Throw anything you want at him for all I care. Just get upstairs.”

Anthony leaned into the back seat, carefully moving Kate and her leg towards the edge of the seat. They were so close, his arms wrapped around her. If he looked at her, he could count the freckles sprawled across her nose and cheek and how many eyelashes she had. He had done it a million times before.

Except he couldn’t.

Kate refused to look at him.

He got her out of the car until she could support herself on her crutches, making her way towards the lifts. Anthony, Edwina and Mary brought all of her bags upstairs to her flat. Anthony had stocked her fridge and cupboards with all her favourite things and had gotten it professionally cleaned yesterday. He also had about five bouquets of tulips in each room.

“Simon dropped in some food from his restaurant,” Edwina said, smiling softly as she began to unpack the bag. “Thank god. I’m starving. Anthony?”

“I’ll go.” Anthony said, shaking his head as he headed towards the door after dropping the last bag on the floor. The hope he had of fixing things with Kate was really starting to diminish. She really despised him.

She wouldn’t even look at him.

Kate waved a crutch in his direction. It was the first time she had spoken to only him directly in over two weeks. “Stop getting me tulips!”

Anthony turned around to look at her, shaking his head simply. “No.”

“We are going to go out for a walk,” Mary suggested loudly, tugging at Edwina who gaped at her mother in disbelief and then glanced back down at the food. The two Sheffields practically ran out of Kate’s flat, bag of food in their hand, and surprisingly weren’t stopped by Kate.

This was his chance.

“How are you?”

Kate’s hard glare hadn’t faded. “Why do you care?”

He visibly softened. “Of course I care.”

“I don’t think you do, actually,” Kate snapped, aggressively fluffing the pillows behind her back where she sat on her grey couch. “I thought you cared until I realized what you had done. I thought you cared until I stood there telling you I loved you and all you did was tell me that you had lied to me and how we would never work. I never expected you to love me back, what did I expect was some-”

“Are you on drugs?”

“Excuse me?” Kate’s voice was almost a shriek.

Anthony had to really stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I can’t say this if you’re in any way inebriated.”

“No,” Kate muttered, crossing her arms across her chest, “I still despise you, so I’m of sound mind.”

“I should have kissed you. That night. When we were at Aubrey Hall. Seven years ago. I should have kissed you in the lake. I should have kissed you at the Law Ball in college. I should have kissed you when we were in Spain. When we were in my dorm. Your dorm. In the morning. In the afternoon. In the evening. There were so many times where I should have kissed you, Kate.”

“You did kiss me,” Kate spat out, tears flooding her eyes that made Anthony’s chest clench. “You kissed me and you pretended that you didn’t remember.”

“I’m an idiot. I’m a fool. There’s no rational explanation for why I did it. I was so scared of losing you, Kate. But I lost you anyway. I’ll never be more sorry for that, Kate.” Anthony took a few tentative steps towards her, crouching down so he was at her eye level. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. Please, just listen to me. I’ll leave you alone afterwards if that’s what you want.”

“I was on my way to yours when Edwina rang me,” Anthony said, trying to remember everything he had wanted to say and had written down so many times. “I was on my way to tell you I was in love with you. I was an asshole, the night of the gallery. A complete asshole. I panicked. I saw everything on that bloody picture that I have wanted and dreamed of for years, and I panicked. I was so scared of losing what we had that I was too scared to take the chance on having something more.”

Kate stared at him with her wide brown eyes, the ones he had missed so bloody much. He had missed everything about her and now he was here and he was trying. He was desperately trying and he had no idea if it would be enough. “What are you trying to say, Anthony?”

“I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since I was nineteen years old. I’ve denied it and denied it, because I’m screwed up, and I know you deserve better than me, but it's always been you Kate. It will always be you. I was terrified of screwing things up and losing you because I can’t live without you Kate. I don’t ever want to. You’re my best friend. You’re my person.”

“When I heard you were hurt and there was a chance that I could lose you-I can’t fathom life without you, Kate.” Anthony’s voice broke off as he spoke, his voice choking on air. “I can’t. I don’t want to. All I want is you, Kate. I’ll do anything to prove that to you. I’m all in. If you’ll have me.”

“Why do you get to decide?”

Anthony blinked at her through his watery eyes, hastily wiping them. He had finally said everything he wanted to say and the biggest weight had been taken off his chest. The anxiety of waiting on Kate’s response still clawed at him. “What?”

“Why do you get to decide that I deserve better than you?” Kate asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.

“I don’t know,” He answered honestly, shaking his head as he leaned against the couch. “It wasn’t that I decided. It was just so obvious to me. You deserve everything, Kate. Everything. That isn’t me. All I can do is try-”

“No.”

His heart stopped in his chest, a rigid stance completely taken over. Was this it? Was Kate ending things forever? Has he lost for her good?

“You should have asked me.”

Anthony couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came out of him. “I know.”

“I’ve always been smarter than you.”

He smiled softly, nodding his head. “That’s debatable.”

“Do you always have to have an answer for everything?” She asked, completely exasperated, but there wasn’t any annoyance detected in her tone. It was almost teasing.

“I suppose,” He said slowly, his eyes never moving off hers. “Some things never changed.”

“No,” She said softly, her eyes moving around his face. “They really don’t.”

“I should have asked you too,” Kate added a few seconds later, visibly gulping as she pushed some of the loose strands of hair in front of her face behind her ears.

“I’m still so mad at you,” She murmured, blinking away a few tears that rolled down her red cheeks. “I’m so mad. I’m not going to suddenly stop being mad because you’re in love with me and I’m in love with you. We’re going to have to work at this. It isn’t going to be easy.”

“I deserve it.” He nodded in agreement, not being able to stop the small smile breaking out on his face as she said she loved him. “I know. I’ll do anything, Kate. Anything.”

She loved him.

Kate was in love with him.

“Hold my hand.” She murmured, extending her fingers towards him. Their fingers interlock smoothly, her soft, petite palm and his large, rougher hand against each other.

“If you had asked me,” Kate said, her voice coming out wobbly as she spoke. “I would have told you that you’re it for me. It’s always been you. From the moment I met you, it was always going to be you. I didn’t stand a chance. It’s not about deserving, Anthony. It’s about being there for someone no matter what. You’ve always been there for me. And I always want you to be.”

Their faces were extremely close now. He could smell her again, that soft scene of lilies and soap that he had missed so much. He could count the freckles on her cheek and her long, delicate eyelashes. His lips are “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Us,” Kate corrected him, her breathing small and shallow. “It only took us eight years.”

“This isn’t how I imagined it.”

“I’m so tired of imagining, aren’t you?”

He kisses her.

It’s better than he’s ever imagined it.

Why?

Because it’s real.

#the story of us #bridgerton #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #kate x anthony #ao3 #fanfiction #the end is finally here!#benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #edwina sheffield #hyacinth bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #colin bridgerton

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diyeoracha · 4 years

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IwaOi Fanfiction Masterlist with 90+ Works

Hello! In celebration accumulating over 290 bookmarks on my AO3 account featuring IwaOi, Haikyuu S4 part 2, and @haikyuuweek2020 (Day 7 - Free Choice), I decided to create a masterlist of all of my favorite Iwaoi fics in order to keep myself organized as well as contributing to more traffic for those works! Works are split up into genres such as alternate universe (either not childhood friends or set on Earth), angst, canon compliant (post timeskip with spoilers), canon divergent (childhood friends but divergent timeline post timeskip), high school, and university au

Formatting update: Jan 13, 2021 (spacing is wonky on the mobile app!).

Fic update: Jan 7, 2021

This is incomplete as I got distracted while re-reading a lot of these and have only gone through half of my bookmarks, but feel free to check my own page here for the rest of them! I really do hope you guys enjoy reading these and leave comments and kudos! Please reblog and like so more people can enjoy

Titles marked with (♡) are my absolute favorites and there’s a chance I cried while reading them but otherwise they’re in alphabetical order

Alternate Universe

an allegory of all the things we could’ve been

Word count: 16k

Summary: “I don’t know anything about some red string,” Iwaizumi murmurs into the cracks of Oikawa’s skin, “or even about lifetimes or fate. But no matter where you are, I’ll find you. Gods or otherwise.” Reincarnation AU

And All the Prince’s Men

Word count: 65k

Summary: “Father only loves that which he owns, and I am the one thing that can never truly be his.” Royalty AU

Built a Temple in Me

Word count: 55k

Summary: Up the mossy mountain steps, past the komainu guardians and the faded red gate, and beyond the boundaries of the green shrine—that’s where the forest and the spirit world within it lies. That’s were Hajime met him, and where their story began.But intertwining of destinies can be ugly business, Hajime finds, when their first meeting begins with blood and the too-human eyes of a beast. God Oikawa AU

Quote: It fills his heart anyway, heals the hole in his chest that had been bleeding since he cut Tooru so forcibly from him.

Cotton Breathing

Word count: 13k

Summary: Long-distance and summer only but childhood friends AU

Conquering the Great King

Word count: 105k

Summary: Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

Quote: Oikawa's eyes twitched wide for less than a second, his knee pressed in hard against Iwaizumi's thigh, "I may be gorgeous, but I'm not a doll."

dear diary, i met a boy

Word count: 15k

Summary: Iwaizumi's first impression of his upstairs neighbor involves getting woken up at two in the morning to the sound of Oikawa singing along to trashy pop music. He'd thought it would get better, but it all just goes downhill from there. Modern AU

Desperado

Word count: 82k

Summary: Clearly Iwaizumi had a checkered past. Kyoutani has never asked about it, nor has Iwaizumi ever brought it up. He knows it’s a sore spot for his mentor, just like the gorgeous Monte Carlo he keeps hidden away is, so he leaves it alone. Out on the streets, you learn a little something about when to turn a blind eye in order to survive; Kyoutani knows better than most to leave the past of men like Iwaizumi well alone. Heist AU

Even Heroes (have the right to dream)

Word count: 20k

Summary: Oikawa Tooru, ace reporter of the superhero beat of Asahi Shimbun, hates superheroes. Or maybe he just hasn’t met the knight one yet. Superhero AU

♡Infinite Risks

Word count: 8k

Summary: “It’s my fate,” Oikawa responds slowly. He’s crying. “It’s too lonely,” Iwaizumi’s heart sounded broken. “And I’m not there with you. Not really.” Edge of Tomorrow AU

In Defense of Reptiles

Word count: 9k

Summary: In their seventh year, Oikawa is chosen to be the Hogwarts champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and Iwaizumi suffers. Harry Potter AU

Quote: “You are so spoiled,” Iwaizumi tells him, but lets him shuffle down until Iwaizumi’s hand is now running through Oikawa’s hair instead of rubbing his shoulder.

In the Telling

Word count: 6k

Summary: Muggleborn Iwaizumi could not be less impressed with pureblood Oikawa Tooru. Harry Potter AU

♡Lockdown

Word count: 72k

Summary: Within the first few months of his stay, Oikawa gets caught up in a war between cellblocks, becomes a prime target, and must decide just how far he's willing to go to protect Iwaizumi Hajime. Prison AU

♡long nights, no peace

Word count: 18k

Summary: It's the steady knowledge that Iwaizumi Hajime will always be someone that he can rely on, that no matter what the world throws at the two of them, they share in a piece of each other's soul. Pacific Rim AU

Quote: Quiet settles between them softly, like the warm pressure of the blanket, or Iwaizumi's fingers curling to lightly hold the fabric of Oikawa's shirt.

The Long Light

Word count: 36k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime's seventh year at Hogwarts begins, and begins, and begins, and begins. Somehow, Oikawa Tooru is always there. Harry Potter AU

Magic Man

Word count: 12k

Summary: Oikawa is named the most desirable wizard in France. Iwaizumi is not impressed. Harry Potter AU

Quote: You keep saying partner or them. Is it rude of me to ask you to clarify?

Meet me in the grey area

Word count: 24k

Summary: Set in a hero/villain AU with Iwa as our trusty hero and Oikawa as our charming villain

Saw You at the Fish Market

Word count: 14k

Summary: In other words, Oikawa befriends hot part-time worker Iwaizumi and tries to impress him both off and on the court, in hopes of more.

♡♡ (sing with me) A Song of Conquest and Fate

Word count: 26k

Summary: When Seijou receives a missive from Aobajousai to discuss a potential peace, its emperor Oikawa Tooru could not have foreseen the series of events that would follow. Historical fantasy AU

Similar Creatures

Word count: 53k

Summary: "What's your name?" "Whatever you want it to be."(Or, Oikawa gets directions from an attractive stranger on a street corner.). Escort AU

♡Something Like Us

Word count: 28k

Summary: Friends since childhood, Oikawa and Iwaizumi now live together, both playing for the National Team. It's no secret that athletes who are bonded perform better. So if the two of them happen to bond...It'd be for the good of the team, right? A/B/O AU

Space

Word count: 44k

Summary: Tries not to think of his rooftop garden, or the apartment he used to inhabit, or Hajime’s broken expression on the night they whispered their goodbyes before Tooru’s launch, attempting to push it all to the back of his mind behind visions of this alien world terraformed. Astronaut AU

Stop the Time

Word count: 10k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, E.R. nurse at University of Tokyo Hospital. Hospital AU

♡♡The Loyalty of A Traitor

Word count: 76k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime was an undercover officer with a single objective: Infiltrate the Seijoh Syndicate of the Yakuza and tear them down from the inside out. His primary target was the boss, Oikawa Tooru. The job itself was simple enough, until Iwaizumi got in too deep and absconded not only from the mission, but from the city itself. Yakuza AU

These Flowers I Stole For You

Word count: 3k

Summary: ANBU don't cry. They tear themselves apart, bit by bit, and then they stitch themselves whole again. Naruto AU

on shipwreck shore

Word count: 8k

Summary: “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and feed you to the basilisks,” Iwaizumi says conversationally. “You can’t do that, I’m your boss,” Oikawa sings, positively sparkling. “Also we’re partners, which means,” he points at Iwaizumi and leans in, “you’re stuck with me.” Detective AU

Page 305 of 304

Word count: 53k

Summary: “…she called you ‘papa’,” iwaizumi managed. oikawa just stared for a moment longer before relaxing in a smile. “yeah. cute, right? but you can call me ‘daddy’ if you want.”

Temporary fix

Word count: 12k

Summary: “And you’ve shampooed his hair how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” A/B/O AU

Tokyo Boy

Word count: 16k

Summary: He has feelings for Iwaizumi Hajime, who probably has casual lovers just like him in every major city he visits on business. Oikawa is just his Tokyo Boy, just another pit-stop on Iwaizumi’s travels. Businessman AU

Trial by Fire

Word count: 78k

Summary: (lawyer!AU - in which Iwaizumi loves his objections, Oikawa is beautiful, and they have more chemistry than two opposing attorneys probably should.)

Watch Me

Word count: 32k

Summary: Oikawa's a cam model. It’s been a month since Iwaizumi first spoke in his chat. When they meet in person, things get complicated. Cam model AU

Angst

open when

Word count: 1k

Summary: Iwaizumi knew it was coming, but it still hurt. It still hurt when he opens one letter and drowns it in the tears he cannot keep at bay.

Chasing Paper Suns

Word count: 10k

Summary: Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart

Quote: “ ‘it’s just—I’m just trying so hard—’‘What, and I’m not?’

Timeless (We Have 30 Days)

Word count: 12k

Summary: Or AU where you're branded 50 days before you die. But Oikawa doesn't tell anyone so now there's only 30 days left.

the weight of water

Word count: 6k

Summary: “Again,” he says, the smallest tremor in his voice, and Oikawa blinks at him a moment before smiling, soft and sweet. “Iwa-chan,” he replies, and Iwaizumi closes his eyes. “Again.” “Iwa-chan.”

Canon Compliant

Are You Listening?

Word count: 4k

Summary: 30 times oikawa said i love you and 1 time he didn't have to

Quote: “Iwa-chan, watch out for the log—!” Oikawa looked on in horror as his best friend tripped and fell flat on his face.

Edge of the balcony

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwaizumi looks older, he realizes. Oikawa knew he had aged as well, and so did everyone around him, but the thing was when you see people often, you don't notice the subtle changes in appearance. And Oikawa hadn't seen Iwaizumi in four years.

How can this loser ever win

Word count: 2k

Summary: everyone is in stupid love with Iwaizumi Hajime and he has no idea

♡♡♡Lost in Translation

Word count: 9k

Summary: Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women's volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

maybe we could be enough

Word count: 9k

Summary: iwaizumi hums in reply as the car goes silent, frank ocean crooning from the speakers. they stop at a red light when iwaizumi feels eyes at the side of his face, and turns to look at oikawa.

Most people never even get a single high school rival

Word count: 5k

Summary: Team Argentina gets to know Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer.

Primavera

Word count: 8k

Summary: They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Quote: Did you know that distance is only me, growing towards you?

♡♡♡rest on your laurels

Word count: 4k

Summary: In Iwaizumi’s heart of hearts, untouched by time, they are young and alive, burning with the hearth of home and bright as winter light. Unbreakable. Invincible.

♡♡♡Something Borrowed

Word count: 16k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

‘Til Infinity

Word count: 2k

Summary: “Hey,” he says, “that cloud looks kind of like a dick.”

Quote: “I got you ladybug”

♡♡♡ You Set Off a Dream In Me

Word count: 15k

Summary: In which Oikawa is 41 and ready to retire. He's at the top of his game and ready to find a new challenge. Turns out his new challenge is pretty familiar. It's high school, round 2.

Quote: A past with an Iwaizumi that wasn’t on the opposite side of the net, monsters on all sides, guiding a setter that had lived the dream left behind in the ruins of Tooru’s past self.

Canon Divergent

a world alone

Word count: 60k

Summary: Iwaizumi has his medical books on the musculoskeletal system. Oikawa has his research papers on parallel universes. It isn't until much, much later that they realize they have each other.

♡Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

Summary: Iwa-chan's leaving Kapan. Tooru's not sure he can forgive him, but he's not going to admit his long-held feelings, either. A trip to Miyajima complicates everything.

Quote: There are only two things that have ever broken Oikawa Tooru’s heart. Iwa-chan would say Tooru has no heart to break, but that’s simply untrue.

Count your blessings, it goes 1,2,3, me

Word count: 7k

Summary: He's unsettled by the undefined boundaries of their relationship so it's all his luck that he accidentally wins three wishes to be granted just for him, and all that comes to mind is Iwaizumi.

Quote: Now, as an adult, past convenience of circumstance and the haze of hormonal lust, exactly none of his feelings have worn off

♡♡♡the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

♡days fall away

Word count:17k

Summary: Except now he’s back home, so close to his old haunts and to Oikawa himself, and it's—weird.

Quote: “You and Tooru,” he begins, and then shrugs. “I was just thinking, you look at each other a lot.” And he walks away, leaving Hajime winded, and sort of aching, somewhere deep in his chest. Whatever that means.

♡here comes your man

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3 Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties. Doctor AU

♡♡In damp earth my body

Word count: 15k

Summary: Onscreen, the nation’s favorite setter has arranged himself so that he’s bowing, forehead pressed to the court, like he’s thanking everyone for their kindness thus far, like he’s asking for forgiveness. Hajime thinks: shit, it’s really happening

In the Business of Love

Word count: 22k

Summary: Meet Oikawa Tooru: He's a best-selling shoujo manga artist, a hardcore romantic and you won't believe where he's getting his lovey dovey fodder from...Enter Iwaizumi Hajime: He's Oikawa's best friend, a realist who also happens to be a wedding magazine writer despite not believing in romance...

Quote: A flare of pride lit in Oikawa as he watched Iwaizumi's eyes crinkle with mirth and in that yawning second, it bloomed into a warmth that bordered on a burn, forcing a bittersweet inhale.

it's been so long (nobody knows me the way you do)

Word count: 8k

Summary: Tooru hums, only half-listening. Somewhere along the way, Hajime’s palm has settled itself over the curve of Tooru’s cheek, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw.

Quote: Iwaizumi blushes even more. “That you’re here, I mean. I’m happy that you’re here. With me.”

♡♡♡Mint

Word count: 19k

Summary: It's the December after Iwaizumi’s last year in university when Tokyo welcomes him with a new ad campaign for Bright Days toothpaste, and Oikawa Tooru—fresh off a run at the 2016 Summer Olympics—has decided to grace the city with his signature grin, a flip of his wayfarer sunglasses, and the most irrepressible tag line for the signboard above.

Quote: "To be able to tell him, in the new year." This comes under Oikawa's breath, so low that Matsukawa and Hanamaki can't hear, and the game continues.

Six-Month Lover

Word count: 89k

Summary: Iwaizumi barks out a laugh. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that you made a PowerPoint presentation about why we should date.” Oikawa doesn’t tell him the file has existed for the last twelve years, constantly receives updates, and that the original copy contained almost a hundred slides before he forced himself to get a grip.

Special Relativity

Word count: 22k

Summary: Time moves differently for people in different inertial reference frames. Oikawa goes on a two-year exploratory mission in space. Iwaizumi's been waiting for a lot longer than that.

♡♡sunset towns

Word count: 33k

Summary: In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

♡♡Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count: 19k

Summary: It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

Quote: Oikawa’s grin in the last set of the morning’s game. Oikawa’s grin as they sat on their asses on a golf course. Oikawa’s grin when they were in college. When they were in high school. When they were twenty-two, seventeen, fifteen, twelve, six.

High School

Bet On It

Word count: 13k

Summary: Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Quote: The whole instant-compliance thing was seriously creeping him out. Oikawa from a week ago would have made a crack about how if he'd wanted something cold, he could have just put his face on Hajime's shoulder.

Betweens

Word count: 2k

Summary: Iwaizumi is asleep in the club room. Oikawa is blindingly awake in the club room. The sun moves slowly across the sky, and Iwaizumi’s skin is gold underneath it. Oikawa watches the changing shadows on Iwaizumi’s face and thinks about nothing in particular.

Don’t think too much

Word count: 6k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a confusing, drunken encounter and then deal with the (sticky) consequences.

Quote: As soon as that thought crossed his mind, though, Oikawa did what he always did: exactly the opposite of what Hajime wanted

Gates

Word count: 12k

Summary: The day after their graduation ceremony, they drive to the beach at Shirahama. Iwaizumi drives, because it’s his car, and as he has told Oikawa on multiple occasions, he’d rather die than let him touch the wheel.

Quote: ‘Yeah,’ he says, because they’re on a beach, and they’re supposed to be on a metaphorical journey, and they’re supposed to be growing up, and completing rites of passage, so it’s honesty, today - just for today, at least.

♡♡i sing the body electric

Word count: 8k

Summary: It was never part of the plan, falling in love with his best friend, but then again, most things in Iwaizumi’s life that involve Oikawa rarely unfold the way he thinks they will.

Quote: But Iwaizumi thinks about Oikawa laughing with that girl in the low light of the gym, a particular kind of quiet intimacy that Iwaizumi’s only ever read about in books hovering in the air, and all it makes him feel is small and petty and spiteful.

it’s better than words

Word count: 3k

Summary: [ or : oikawa makes iwaizumi participate in three bonding activities for new friends, and iwaizumi just wants to know why oikawa's being so weird about this]

Make sure you cross the line

Word count: 4k

Summary: With graduation just around the corner, Iwaizumi knows he has to gather the courage to really ask Oikawa out.

Quote: He’s been asking Iwaizumi to go out with him every single day this past week, increasingly panicked about getting his time and attention now that they’re nearing the end of this season of their lives.

Only the jellyfish know

Word count: 6k

Summary: Their third and final year at Aoba Jousai has come to an end, and the guys decide to go to the beach the day after graduation. That day, the ocean water is salty, the watermelon is sweet, and the people are sweeter.

static

Word count: 6k

Summary: Being snowed in with all of Seijou volleyball in his childhood home brings back a lot of memories for Iwaizumi, because it's kinda Oikawa's childhood home too.

Quote: It's fate that brought them together and choice that keeps them that way. The closest description in Hajime’s vocabulary is partners, but only because Oikawa taught him what its true definition is.

Told before and told again

Word count: 3k

Summary: This is how Hajime and Tooru fall in love, through the accounts of those around them.

Quote: When Oikawa lets out a long, heavy breath, Iwaizumi looks up at him and frowns, and flings a towel over Oikawa’s head to cover his face. Then, he tugs, once, on Oikawa’s fingers, and leads him down the hallway, Oikawa walking quietly in tow.

♡we can do better than that

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

Quote: Because Iwaizumi’s known Oikawa nearly all his life and never felt anything more than vague affection usually followed by intense irritation for him. But then suddenly at eighteen years old and nearly two weeks into a very badly planned road trip, it’s like someone flipped a switch somewhere inside Iwaizumi

♡when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“ My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?” OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

reassemble it

Word count: 15k

Summary: When Tooru was six years old, he discovered—unbeknownst to him at the time—two of the most important things in his life: volleyball and Iwaizumi Hajime. It was ironic that he had stumbled upon them hand in hand—quite literally, too.

♡things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he's in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only a while.)

Quote: Iwaizumi’s expression right now is less terrified than it used to get back then, but he’s tight-lipped with concern, and his broad body blocks out other passengers as if their stares might be a danger to Tooru too.

University AU

An Archaeology of Affection

Word count: 23k

Summary: For Hajime, it is a riddle and simultaneously so evident. It fills his chest, surging like water, paints heat up his neck. In retrospect, it eats up his days, makes them its own until it feels like his heart has always been in his throat at the smile thrown over Oikawa’s shoulder, the stilling of his fingers on Hajime’s sleeve.

closure

Word count: 22k

Summary: In his first year of university, Oikawa builds a new friendship and upgrades an old one. Or: Ushijima is not a great wingman, but he tries his best.

Quote: “On the first day of his university career, Oikawa Tooru walks into his dorm, spots his assigned roommate, and turns one hundred and eighty degrees and walks right back out. He dials a familiar phone number - the first one he ever memorized - and starts complaining before Iwaizumi even gets the chance to say hello. “Iwa-chan,” he says, “tell me why Ushiwaka is in my dorm room.”

♡♡♡galaxies, within you

Word count: 21k

Summary: Hajime and Tooru move in together at the start of university. Too bad they’re stuck with the two gremlins that haunt their apartment.

Quote: I AM A HEADASS

Hands to yourself

Word count: 11k

Summary: He missed his parents, and he missed Takeru, and Takeru's badly behaved puppy. He missed Aoba Jousai, and he missed the volleyball team. He even missed Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, just a little.

Home, and how we made ours

Word count: 3k

Summary: “No, I like it here.” There’s a rustling as Iwaizumi shifts, inching closer. “I like it here, as in this crappy apartment—with you.”

Quote: “Do your fights end up being like—you know, about actual things and then extending into toddler days and suddenly you’re accusing Iwaizumi of kissing the girl you used to like in preschool?”

in progress to you

Word count: 6k

Summary: The eventuality of Oikawa and Iwaizumi falling toward each other is dramatically lackluster. Still, it's a process to go through.

Quote: “But what if you didn’t eat my pudding all the time?” Iwaizumi asks flatly, ignoring the way Oikawa is slapping his thigh to get out of his chokehold. “Do you think I buy them for you, huh? I buy them for me, you turd.”

Like we’re made of starlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: (a look into iwaizumi hajime’s journey of falling in love with oikawa tooru, from when they’re babies meeting for the first time to young adults moving in together.)

Ninety nine percent

Word count: 14k

Summary: more than anything, oikawa tooru wants to be with iwaizumi hajime, but he's only ninety nine percent of the way there.

Quote: Their ace was lining up for the ball, knees bent and arm pulled back, just as Tooru tosses the ball……to Hajime.

no sleep in the city

Word count: 7k

Summary: Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Quote: “I was only telling Hanamaki literally yesterday that your personality isn’t as vile as before,” Iwaizumi informs, slightly stiff from the way Oikawa’s got an arm looped through his own. “Why do you make me such a liar to people I care about?”

Out of nowhere

Word count: 8k

Summary: They move in together after graduation and it's doing weird things to Iwaizumi's heart. He's a little in denial about it.

Quote: Oikawa excitedly ran up to him when Iwaizumi came home with groceries the other day. Not about the food but just to say how boring everything is when Iwaizumi's not there, eyes shining, and he couldn't meet his gaze after from blushing down to his neck. He doesn't know how much more he can take.

♡♡shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

Quote: “I’m in love with you,” Oikawa tells him three days after they graduate junior high, head in his lap and hands gently folded over his chest and completely and totally unconcerned that he’d just shattered Hajime’s world.

Terpischore

Word count: 38k

Summary: They’d ended up going to different universities, Tooru and he. The distance was good for them. The confession Hajime dropped in both their laps wasn’t. That’s how it’d ended – a lifetime of friendship crumbled to dust in the space of five minutes. (Or, a lesson in learning to move on from things you can't have, in finding old loves in new ways and in understanding that life is never truly simple... till it is.)

terrarium

Word count: 11k

Summary: At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

these foolish things (remind me of you)

Word count: 3k

Summary: Oikawa helps Iwaizumi move into his new college dorm.

Quote: He’s desperate for something to happen. It must show on his face because Iwaizumi blushes and looks away. The thing is, Oikawa always looks at him like this when Iwaizumi isn’t paying attention.

They say it rains diamonds on Jupiter

Word count: 35k

Summary: "You're in love with him. "Hajime considers denying it. "Yeah," he says instead.

Quote: “Share the weight of your feelings with me, Hajime wants to beg when he hears Tooru's first hitched breath. Let me carry some of your burdens”

to be first, to be best

Word count: 26k

Summary: Hajime is apparently something of a masochist, and as he stares down at the tie-dyed AREA51 T-shirt in his hands, he thinks “I’m totally in love with this asshole, aren't I?”

Undecipherable

Word count: 4k

Summary: "Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

Quote: Because for all the bravado, for all the flaunting Oikawa does, he wants Hajime by his side, and no one else.

♡we shine like diamonds

Word count: 26k

Summary: "You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Where you are (I’ll be)

Word count: 6k

Summary: Theirs is a love that starts out like a seed and it takes two sets of hands tending it for a shoot to appear. There are no dramatic declarations of love, only a pair of hands that find each other again and again and again.

Quote: Oikawa broke off into giggles as Hajime slowed the descent of his hand from a slap to the back of Oikawa’s head to a gentle ruffle of the taller boy’s hair

♡♡with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Quote: He knows they’re too close. Iwaizumi knows it too, and they both decided to move in together anyway.

Your love is sunlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: It's Iwaizumi's birthday, and they have a talk about the future.

Quote: But Hajime doesn’t think any present could top this: them, kissing in a sun-dappled bathroom, Oikawa’s skin warm under his hands, and the promise of a life together stretched out before them.

#haikyuuweek2020 #iwaoi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #i spent more time on this than all of my edits combined pls appreciate this

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i-just-wanna-be-called-sparkle · 3 years

Text

Okay. Killer Teddie AU time. Full spoiler warning ahead for P4 and even a bit of P5. Full timeline of all events in order up ahead. Smaller details and ideas at the very end of it. Some of this might not make sense or have an explanation because, at the time, I hadn’t finished base game Persona 4 and had no idea of stuff like Izanami, Sagiris, and so on and so forth. Even now, I haven’t yet finished P4G. The next time I work on this AU will be after I’ve finished P4G and have a good grasp on everything to change what doesn’t make sense and add stuff that does. For now take what I’ve worked on thus far. Sorry if some of my explanations are a little wonky. Extremely fucking long post ahead, I’m seriously not joking around this time.

And, before I start, I’m not the only one who worked on the AU! This is a team project between me and my gf! I know it’s not much to say, but I want to give half of the credit to her rather than taking all of it for myself, cuz while a lot of these ideas came from me, a lot came from her, too.

So, let me explain why Teddie’s a killer in the first place. It starts when he’s still just a mindless Shadow, and he comes face to face with a group of Persona users that existed long before the investigation team, consisting of Tohru Adachi, Mayumi Yamano, and a lot of miscellaneous unnamed characters who may or may not be made into proper characters in the futures. Why this first group existed and consists of those characters is one of those things that hasn’t been fully thought through yet. But, one thing’s for sure, they love going into the TV world and just beating up Shadows for fun every once in a while. At this point in the story, Shadows aren’t necessarily hostile yet, so basically, Teddie witnesses a bunch of his own kind get slaughtered for no reason and, probably because he’s starting to grow some kind of consciousness at this point, goes buck wild and kills the whole group save for Tohru Adachi, who manages to escape. This is how Mayumi Yamano meets her demise and also, how Teddie grows a proper body - it isn’t that bear suit of his though, it’s a human body, most likely the result of humans being the only thing he was exposed to aside from Shadows in that world. From that point forward, a fiery hatred for humans begins to develop within him.

Y’know how Teddie’s real crafty, making those glasses for the Investigation Team to use to see better in the TV world? Well, after a while, he decides he’s tired of walking around bear naked and makes himself some clothes to wear. Those fingers aren’t dexterous for nothing. Not too long after he makes these clothes, Saki ends up in the TV world - for another reason that wasn’t thought through well enough yet, but it’s something like she has a Persona too. This AU is very generous with who gets Personas, I know, please bear with it for now. She ends up bumping into Teddie, the two interact, and because Saki’s a little bitch she finds Teddie to be quite strange, what with the way he talks and how he apparently “comes from the TV world,” and is very verbal about it - very rude about it, too. This first impression with a new human + Teddie’s already intensifying hatred for humans = Saki’s gruesome demise. “Are all humans like this?” Is what Teddie thinks. “Are they all cruel? Are they all mean?” Teddie now has a stronger hate for Humanity that only grows stronger and stronger the more he’s forced to sit in that quiet TV world and think and think and think and think about it.

And along with that hate for humanity, comes a hate for his current human form. So he crafts himself that bear suit of his, and wears it all the time - I believe he also makes it so whatever he bumps into next doesn’t think he’s weird sounding or weird speaking or weird… looking, which, I’ll describe now rather than at the end of the post. Teddie doesn’t look all that different, but the main changes are that his eye colour is now a duller, greyer shade of blue, he is overall even paler, and he is also a lot skinnier. No real reason for these design choices aside from self indulgence without going too overboard. Moving on from that, not too long after he makes the suit is when Chie and Yu and Yosuke go in for the first time. Teddie keeps on a facade of innocence and happiness for a “good first impression,” and nothing changes from then up until the appearance of Yosuke’s Shadow. Since a Shadow is the side of oneself that they don’t want to acknowledge or see, it’s chock full of bad traits and negative emotions - further solidifying Teddie’s belief that all humans are just awful, sinful, nasty creatures.

One thing that Isn’t well thought out at all, and something that I have no clue where to put on the timeline, is this whole deal between Teddie and Namatame. Basically, Teddie communicates with Namatame through the TV (can’t remember if he just talks through it, or sticks his head through), and convinces Namatame to start pushing people in not to save them, but for something along the lines of how he “secretly wants them to die.” Maybe it was because Namatame shares Teddie’s beliefs of humanity being repulsing, but it’s too vague a memory to make heads or tails of it. Don’t know how things would work out without it, though, so it’s sticking around as is for now.

Also, as of right now in the AU, the IT is completely unaware of Teddie’s human form hiding right under his bear form/bear suit. Good lord, I am already tired of typing this all out, this post is so long. Still got a long way to go, kind of.

Here’s another loose idea that hasn’t been fully thought about, and it’s when Teddie encounters his Shadow in Rise’s dungeon. My memories are a bit foggy on this one, but I’ll try my best to remember. So, his encounter with his Shadow stays largely the same, with maybe a couple of his Shadow’s lines being changed to represent how not only is he hiding originally being a Shadow from his teammates, but also how he’s hiding the fact that he’s the killer they’re trying to find - all of it is too vague for the IT to piece together, though. But also a thing that’s changed is his reaction to his Shadow is a LOT more aggressive, a slip up to show a small glance of his true personality - but again, the IT doesn’t think anything of it because, Teddie’s facing his Shadow here, of COURSE he’s going to act different when he’s coming face to face with a part of himself he wants to ignore. Eventually, he manages to accept his Shadow, but for one way or another, a second Shadow starts to develop within him. Maybe it’s because he only partially accepted his Shadow, maybe it’s because of something else - like he didn’t accept his Shadow for the right reason, I can’t remember. But it starts to develop. I remember wanting to give him a second persona akin to what Akechi has in p5 - one for lies, and one for truths, but this is one of those things that will either need to be completely cut out or heavily modified in my opinion.

Teddie kills more frequently in this AU. In between when he’s helping the IT rescue people from the TV world, he’s throwing in people on the night that it fogs up so the IT doesn’t have time to see people appear on the TV/doesn’t have time to go in and save them, resulting in their deaths. Teddie so far has only thrown in people who have been assholes or scum in his eyes, and these are the only people that end up dying in the TV world even with the advent of the IT. Teddie gets away with this by sneaking out at night sometimes and either witnessing these people do disgusting things, or overhearing about it. Two candidates/victims are the two girls from Yosuke’s social link (hopefully you know who I mean) and the bully/bullies from Chie’s social link. Though, for the two girls, I like the idea of it being AFTER Teddie comes to the real world for real and shows off his human form, and starts working at Junes. He’s “working overtime,” late at night, calls up those two girls and asks them to come to Junes to “help him stock shelves” - “I’ll make sure you and your friend get payed extra for it. I’ll take it out of Yosuke’s paycheck.” Next thing you know, they’ve been knocked out and thrown into the TV because they’re heartless assholes in his eyes.

Only way Teddie would get away with a killing like that, though, is through having an outfit to disguise himself from Junes’ security cameras - so, at some point in the timeline, that’s what he does. Repurposes his old clothes from the TV world into an outfit to disguise his identity, to let him keep killing, and he keeps it tucked away either somewhere in the real world or in the TV world. He probably does this before he “becomes human,” so that his clothes are kept secret from the IT team, and that whole “I’m like a newborn in here” scene can happen.

Also, just for clarification, that hate Teddie felt for Yosuke’s Shadow? And how it solidified his hatred for humanity yet further, and his belief that they are all scummy beings? This keeps happening for every single Shadow he sees. Chie’s, Yukiko’s, Kanji’s, etc.

Mitsuo Kubo is the only one thrown in by Teddie who doesn’t die, so that the plot can progress normally, but also because it probably went something like this. Teddie sneaks out late at night to find more disgusting humans to kill, to “purge the earth of such horrendous beings,” and comes across Mitsuo killing Morooka. A human? Committing murder? A human being slaughtering another human being? How sinful. How disgusting. How treacherous. Teddie has to deal with this immediately. So he throws Mitsuo into the TV world without waiting for the fog to settle first (it’s too dire of a situation to ignore, after all). He’s kind of hypocritical, thinking Mitsuo is a terrible person for committing murder (he is, though) and then going right ahead and throwing him in the TV, aiming to kill. He’s just cleansing the world, though - that’s how he sees it.

Also, I believe for most nights when he decides to sneak out, he’s wearing his disguise outfit, so that he doesn’t get caught if he’s in a situation like that where he kills someone on a whim - or just to avoid being caught when he’s out so late snooping around for more victims. Random fun fact by the way: the idea for this whole AU started from the fact that Teddie could use his knowledge of the TV world and how it works to easily get away with using it to commit crimes. Moving on now.

Another thing that doesn’t yet have a place in the timeline is this small thing. I like to think Teddie has a tendency to stay up later into the night because of his occasional nightly outings, and he doesn’t really have enough time to fix his sleep schedule - or he actually just CAN’T. But anyways, he’s keeping himself busy at night while he can’t sleep, maybe playing on an old console in Yosuke’s room, when Yosuke wakes up and starts talking to him until he also gets tired enough to fall back asleep. He says to Teddie that he’s worried about him. “You’ve got bags under your eyes, and you’re basically made of flesh and bone.” He says. Maybe Teddie’s skinny enough his ribs show a little. “This isn’t the first time you’ve stayed up this late, either. Like you’re restless about something.” Sometimes Teddie just paces around the room until he gets tired enough to pass out. “And, what time is it, like, 2:00 AM? I’m really worried about you, Ted.” And that really gets to Teddie. He starts to cry. Here he is, devoting his time to hating humanity, to killing humans, to putting on a happy go lucky, innocent facade around his “friends” to hide his true nature and keep himself emotionally distant from them - and poor Yosuke over here is oblivious to it all, worrying for his dear friend and roommate like this is all unnatural when it’s what he truly is on the inside. And for just a moment, Teddie feels truly bad, and he just keeps crying and crying and crying, probably while Yosuke holds him and tries to comfort him, until he exhausts himself, goes to sleep, and pushes it all out of his head the next morning. But on that night, he had let his guard drop, and he had let himself be vulnerable, and he had allowed himself to get a little closer to Yosuke - a little more attached to him than before. It was only a little, but it was enough to be concerning… it was “just a little” too much for comfort. He can’t let himself get close to that thing.

Oh no, I’m starting to lose focus. We’re nearing the end now. So, you know how Teddie makes that promise to Nanako, right? That he’ll stay in their world to play with her and such? He probably makes the same promise in this AU.

I say probably, because depending on wether he did or not leads to two separate endings, and I can’t decide on which I like more.

So, if he DOES make the promise, HE’S the one who pushes Nanako in. The reason? He’s getting too attached. He’s letting his guard down around a human, and that scares him. He’s getting emotionally attached and invested, and that scares him. He’s starting to care about something that he hates with all of his heart, and that scares him. So he pushes her into the TV, because he’s not allowed to do that, because all humans are evil - no exceptions. This results in Teddie being outed because, when Nanako dies in the hospital (don’t know how that happens yet without Namatame, plothole), he can’t handle the guilt anymore. It’s overwhelming him, suffocating him, drowning him. He falls to the floor, completely breaking down, screaming and sobbing about how it’s all his fault. Then, he either runs out of the room and throws himself into a TV after realizing he’d outed himself, or Yosuke throws him into a TV in a fit of rage and because he feels like Teddie betrayed his trust by pretending to act all innocent when he was the killer.

If he DOESN’T make the promise, or at least, doesn’t get attached, Namatame throws her into the TV and things play out the exact same until they get to the top of Heaven, where Teddie completely loses his shit at Namatame. Maybe he goes to beat the fuck out of him, maybe he’s screaming and shouting at him, in any case, he’s showing his raw personality now. That isn’t what outs him, though - it’s Namatame. “I recognize you.” He says, either through his voice or his appearance. “Why are you so mad at me? I’m doing what you told me to. I’m doing what you want.” Something along those lines. “What?” The IT reacts. “Teddie, is this true? Have you been lying to us?” And the only thing Teddie can do is freeze up, and run away, out of the dungeon - probably not without beating up Namatame a little more for outing him. “Fuck you.” It’s like an endless stream of insults and vulgar language pour from his mouth. “You’ve gone ahead and exposed me, you bitch. You little shit. I hate you. It’s all your fault.”

Now on to Teddie’s dungeon. This part is, uh… Pretty dark. General content warning for death ahead.

So, to contrast Nanako’s dungeon Heaven, Teddie’s dungeon is Hell. There are two concepts for this dungeon though - one is that it’s just conventional catholic/christian Hell, and the other was that it’s based off of/is the frozen over Hel in norse mythology. Because, Teddie has ice attacks, you know? But they’re both largely the same, if not visually. In the earlier floors, there are some objects strewn around like burnt and torn up images of Teddie and the IT, Teddie and Nanako, his bear suit, and maybe one or two other objects of some importance to him. The voices that are heard at the beginning of all the early floors consist of Teddie sobbing and dealing with his inner turmoil of hating humans but getting attached to the likes of Yosuke, Nanako, the IT overall, and the like. “They’re humans.” He thinks. “They’re humans, and all humans are awful. I hate all of them. But I love them. They’re different… They’re nice to me. I don’t deserve it.” “Maybe humanity isn’t so bad after all…” “*sobbing* I’m sorry, Nana-Chan…”

You know how earlier dungeons like Yukiko’s and Kanji’s have that floor in the middle of the dungeon where you encounter the Shadows and that weird title card thing appears? That exists in Teddie’s dungeon, and on the floor right before it, the voice at the beginning of the floor is just Teddie screaming hysterically, maybe even crying. Why? Well, when you go to that next floor…

There’s Teddie. Standing in front of the hanging corpses of Nanako and Yosuke, hesitantly reaching out to them like he can’t process what he’s looking at. And when the IT calls out to him from behind him, the way he looks at them is estranging. He looks terrified, he has to do a double take because one second he was staring at Yosuke’s corpse, then the next moment, he was looking at him, perfectly alive, with the IT. They try and reach out to him, but he’s like a spooked wild animal, and he runs away to the next floor.

The later floors are now decorated with Nanako and Yosuke’s corpses, possibly even the rest of the IT, and the voices now are just Teddie arguing with himself and screaming hysterically, like he’s going insane being in such a horrible place, like he’s becoming more and more deranged with every passing moment. “This is how it should be! All those heartless monsters DESERVE to die! They deserve to hang lifelessly this! But they don’t! I don’t want them to die! I don’t think like that! But I do! But I don’t! These guys are horrendous- no, they’re my friends! THEY’RE SCUM OF THE EARTH! NO, I DON’T THINK LIKE THAT!” And so on and so forth.

When they finally reach the last floor, the deepest floor, the final circle of Hell, they find Teddie there, deranged to the point of practically being a different person. That second Shadow that was developing within him now is toying with him, messing with his head, whispering things to him that make him clutch his head and beg for it all to stop. The IT can’t get through to him now, and he either snaps, gets hostile at them for being “heartless, monstrous, evil humans,” and forces them into a fight, or that Shadow ends up possessing him (either fully, or to a certain extent), and they have no choice but to fight him and knock some sense into him. In either case, he gains his second Persona - something that will most likely be similar to Magatsu-Izanagi, not sure yet - and also, for the sake of self indulgence, it’s like he can control wether or not he is more or less like a Shadow. AKA, goopy black forearms fitted with deadly sharp claws instead of fingers.

I can’t actually remember what EXACTLY happens after the battle, aside from Teddie Goes To Prison, but here’s another battle outcome I almost forgot about that I am DETERMINED to add into the final product. Remember at the beginning, when I specified that Adachi was the only member of the first group of Persona users to survive Teddie’s slaughter? Well, at some point, he overhears the IT talking about Teddie being the killer and the TV world’s existence and decides to butt in. “Can I come along too?” He asks. “I’m a Persona user, just like all of you. You’re talking about catching the culprit here, right? The same culprit who killed Mayumi in the beginning? The same culprit who probably almost got me, then?” Something along those lines. So, he goes in with them, and would you look at that - Teddie still hasn’t forgotten his face. So, in the case of “Teddie snapping and going all hostile on them,” it’s most likely because he sees Adachi mixed in with the IT and alllll of those emotions from so long ago come flooding back… combine that with his hysteria, and boom, you’ve got a raging Teddie hell bound on taking his revenge and getting some closure before he either goes to prison or dies trying not to.

And… I think that’s it. Only thing left to mention is that at some point, right before my hyperfixation ended, me and my gf were trying to figure out a way to implement an accomplice ending and a Teddie Arcana Change, but the end of my obsession came too early in the development of both of those, so there’s not much to say. Also, in this AU, I’m thinking of making Shadows hostile because of the first group of Persona users, like how Teddie hates all of humanity almost purely because of that group. Also, small detail, he’s wearing that disguise of his during the fight - dunno how he got it, but I do wanna add it in somehow, though. This post is also already long enough, so I should stop myself here.

Speaking of that, holy fuck, thanks to anyone who’s read this entire long ass messy post. Like that is just so awesome, I commend you for it. Seriously this post took actual hours just to write down, it’s way too long for any NORMAL person to read all the way through, heavy emphasis on normal (affectionate). Asks about this AU are welcomed and appreciated, if there are any. If not, seriously literally just the fact that anyone might be reading this message at all is enough to sustain me.

#persona 4 #p4 teddie #how am i supposed to tag this as a persona alternate universe when arena ultimax exists ;-;#persona 4 au #let’s hope that tag works #p4 spoilers #yeesh almost forgot to add that

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crimsonthehobo · 4 years

Text

Battle Scars - (1/?)

[A/N:] Haven’t been on this account in months, am quite sleep-deprived and I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Well, lunch now apparently. So before I lose the minimal courage I got, I’ll just drop this off here and hope it works! Don’t know when I might write the next part, might even not. Who knows. Mind’s wonky. This has been in my files for a long while, wrote it back when Guy Sebastian’s song Battle Scars got stuck in my head. Figured I might as well let it stop collecting dust. Also, considering I’ve never done this before, I don’t know how to properly tag.

If there’s tags I should put, ESPECIALLY if they’re tw tags, please do tell me. [Summary:] The child of a general, the only survivor of a (frankly) unethical experiment, and the old college roommate of one Alexandra Danvers. Somehow all three of those things correlate with one another, not that you can remember at this point. You just want to live in the forest, forgetting the reasons for the scars that litter your body. [Warning(s):] Reader’s thoughts get... dark. Somewhat. More depressing, I think. Some people horrifically mutate too, so there’s that. Again, if there should be warnings in the tags or here that I should put but didn’t, do tell me. What else... uh, this is approximately 11k words long? Maybe that deserves a warning all to itself. Is there a tag that explains “possibly turns you into a modern-day cave person living in forests to steal from humans and wrestle bears”? Possibly a spoiler, but hey, at least it means you read warnings, so congrats!

The first time you felt like you’d failed, was when you had to leave the first love of your life. It was the only scar that had no physical counterpart, but you’d felt the mind-numbing pain, nonetheless.

“You watch yourself, alright? I won’t be around to keep your head screwed on for you!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You rolled your eyes, pointedly keeping your focus on shoving the remaining belongings you had into your duffle. You didn’t look at her. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, you’d break.

Silence fell over the room at your half-hearted response, the lack of noise almost making you regret not saying anything more in reply. And then…

“Do… Do you really have to go?”

‘Damn it.’

Alex’s words were shaky, barely louder than a whisper. The strained tinge in her voice urged you to look up from zipping up your bag, glancing over at the source.

Seated on your bed with her legs over the side, she sat hunched over as one of her legs anxiously shook up and down against the edge. Her hands were curled into fists between her knees, knuckles white as her forearms tensed from their placement on her thighs.

She looked so… small. Nervous. It wasn’t like her.

She was supposed to be Alex Danvers. A stubborn redhead that was tough-as-nails and was always up for drinking you under the table any day!

But you couldn’t blame her for not being herself. She was heartbroken, and so were you.

Though, it made you feel guilty that it was because of you that she looked so weak.

No, “weak” wasn’t the word.

Vulnerable…

Vulnerable seemed more fitting.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked away, but it didn’t last for long. You felt her tap your jaw; once, twice, then a third time. For you two, it was a universal sign that you needed to listen. That what would be said was important.

It was an action that would only take effect if done by the other, and no one else.

It could calm either of you from rage, or even help you fight the haze of drunkenness to be in some semblance of sober.

It was special. Meaningful.

Hence why your automatic reaction was to turn, to obey the silent request to face her.

“You’ll stay in touch, yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

Now you? You were weak. While the owner of your heart was devastated right in front of you, all you could offer for comfort was an unconvincing smile and a useless apology.

Her throat bobbed as she attempted to swallow back a sob, but the teary shine in her eyes gave her away.

Another surge of guilt struck your heart and made you avert your eyes elsewhere, anywhere, as long as they were not on her.

‘Look at what you’ve done.’

It was your fault. She didn’t even know why you were leaving so suddenly.

Your father had found out of your attraction to her, and needless to say, he didn’t take it lightly. A few strings pulled later, and you were being sent away to be “straightened out.” The thought almost made scoff during that particular conversation in his study, but you accepted the consequences anyway.

You should’ve been better.

You should’ve done better.

You didn’t protect her well enough.

The fault was none but yours… and the knife you felt in your heart would remind you for a long while to come.

~~~

The second time you felt like you’d failed, happened two years after that moment in your college dorm room.

It took months for that scar to start to heal, but you knew it would take years before it would even begin to fade.

You’d tried to keep in contact, but you had your life to live and so did she. Not to mention the day your father heard of the two of you still communicating, he pulled more strings to cut you off. It was too late, anyway. You’d already stopped talking by then.

But whether the silence was for the better or worse was up for debate.

Just the thought of her made your heart lurch, and actually interacting with her never failed to re-open that scar anew. The space, however agonizing, let the wound heal.

Yet that very same space was what let you drown yourself into your current occupation. In order to compensate for the agony, you let yourself fall deeper and deeper into your work. Though at this point, you were questioning if you should even call it that.

Unknown to her, a month into your time in the military, a general offered you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You found it hard to believe. You weren’t stupid, you could read between the lines. You knew “opportunity” also meant “ulterior motive.”

He didn’t prove you wrong.

When you walked into the conference room you’d been instructed to enter, your eyes immediately fell to the only individual inside.

General Lane.

You knew three things about him. One, he had been your father’s best friend. Two, he had a palpable dislike for any and all alien life. Specifically, Superman. Three, whenever he began to rant, just smile, and nod.

It was only the two of you there, yet you couldn’t seem to find it in you to focus. Not after he uttered the words “military program.”

You already knew this wouldn’t end well.

Though you remained silent, your eyes having glazed over as the static in your ears prevented his words from reaching your brain, he continued to speak. You only managed to catch bits and pieces, but you got the gist.

They wanted to conduct an experiment and were looking for lab rats. They wanted you to be one.

You weren’t surprised they asked. To everyone else’s knowledge, you had no one left in your life but you. Your father made sure any links between you and Alex were cleanly severed, meaning any history between you two had been cleared. You had no family other than your parents, your mother having passed while you were still in your single digits, while your father had done the same just a week before this very meeting.

‘Tch… no love lost there.’

But, considering he was a respected figure and a close friend of the very same general right in front of you, you had to at least act as if his death affected you. Your father had always been one for appearances, so no one outside of the two of you (and Alex) knew just how estranged you’d been from the other. Because of this, luckily (or unluckily, depending on what way you view it), people took your indifferent poker face to be one of grief.

General Lane wanted to capitalize on that. On you.

You had military blood in you (because apparently that meant you were exactly like your father), you had a “reason” to go missing (grief, hah), and—as far as he was concerned—you had no close relations that would worry should you ever disappear (you… couldn’t really think of a quip to internalize there). You seemed like the perfect guinea pig.

“…We need heroes around here. Human heroes. Not those monsters who could fall to their instincts at the drop of a hat, or at the touch of some space rock—”

Again, it came with no surprise to you that extra-terrestrials were the main focus of said experiment.

You wanted to say no. Fuck, did you want to say no. You wanted no part in this blind hatred. But then…

“—They’re never here when we actually need them. A group of freaks like him are planning to go after National City to lure him out, and where is Superman? Frolicking off in space! The President had an entire clandestine organization made exactly for roach-connected situations like this, yet they don’t even know—”

Your blood ran cold, your hearing suddenly becoming clear as your eyes bore into his.

National City.

Of all the places, they had to go there. You didn’t give it a second thought. You didn’t have to.

“I’ll do it.”

You had no idea what CADMUS was, just that they were collaborating with the U.S. Military to make you and forty-nine others into the ones that would “exterminate the roaches infesting the planet.”

Sounded more like “short-sighted discrimination with an unhealthy dash of xenophobia” than “rational thought for the human race” to you; but as long as you could protect Alex, you didn’t care how much of the mindless drivel you had to sit through.

You didn’t count how many times you found yourself strapped to a metal bed, or how many times you found a needle being stuck into you. Rather, you couldn’t. More than half the time, whatever they put into your bloodstream always made you feel woozy. Enough to make you practically perpetually confused.

Any recollection of your experiences during the experimentation were impossible to stir, and after seeing that one woman’s all-too-amused smirk a few too many times, you were convinced that it had been on purpose.

Before you knew it, another month had passed. Not that you would’ve realized it yourself. Your best guess would’ve been a week, if it weren’t for the woman General Lane had assigned to you telling you otherwise.

She was about your age, maybe a month or so younger. Lucia was her name if you remembered correctly. She’d been left by him to keep an eye on you, or to “keep you sane” as she worded so eloquently.

She was the first person you saw the moment you could properly think again. Her calming presence was a breath of fresh air, and for a moment, everything felt… nice.

Until a soldier barged through the door of your allocated resting area, screaming about an attack.

Time seemed to blur once again, and the next thing you knew, you were in the middle of a war zone. A mile or two from some desert base in the middle of nowhere.

Only you and the rest of the fifty who had been volunteered for the Eradication Program had been deployed. You wished you hadn’t been. The others were bloodthirsty, tearing through the opposition the moment they were ordered to. You, however, chose to take a step back and analyse the enemy.

Most of the “opposing force” looked to be human, not alien. None of them seemed hostile, either. Well… until they were provoked, that is. The human-like members of their group—who you’re sure actually were human—were being protected by their definitely-alien comrades, clearly not trained for combat or any attack whatsoever. In fact, if their attire was anything to go by, they all worked in what could be considered “support” occupations. Engineers, researchers, varying members of medical staff… not one of them appeared to be soldiers.

What was General Lane not telling you?

Were you really protecting National City?

…Were you even in National City?

You felt your comms crackle in your ears, said general’s voice screeching, “What the HELL are you doing?! Move your ass, Six!”

Right. Soldier Six, your call sign. Simply because you were the sixth one to wake up.

How original.

You huffed, and in retaliation to the general’s orders, you tore the device out of your ear and threw it as far as you could over your shoulder.

Because frankly, you didn’t want to. Not when you’d been pit against wrongly identified “hostiles.”

Despite your stubbornness to keep your feet rooted to your spot, soon enough, you didn’t have the privilege of choosing to abstain.

The other “volunteers”—all forty-nine of them—began to stop and convulse. Their flesh rippled beneath their skin, muscles expanding and contracting in an obscene manner.

Something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

Each and every one of them mutated appallingly right before your very eyes, all of them attaining a different level of horrendous to another. Some grew limbs, some lost them. Others had extra eyes while a handful had one left or none at all. A few had their nails elongate into claws, others had a tailbone that whipped its way through the air. More than half had lost the colours of their irises—no, not just the colour. The pupils and irises themselves disappeared completely. It was a horrific spectacle to behold.

To call these things a shell of their former selves, would be insulting to the humans they used to be.

Was this going to happen to you?

You didn’t have much time for your thoughts. The one thing that didn’t change was the sheer amount of bloodthirst coursing through their veins. With the supposedly villainous aliens already exhausted, they wouldn’t last a second round against the other volunteer—

‘…No,’ You shook your head, fists clenched tight, ‘Those aren’t the volunteers anymore.’

From what you could see, those men and women died the moment the experiments started. All you could do for them, was help them rest in peace.

And you doubt they’d be getting any rest with their bodies wreaking havoc as these beasts.

Using the enhanced abilities you shared with the monstrosities, you slowly but surely took them out one by one.

They fought like animals.

Yet no matter how many times they slashed at your body, no matter how many times they lunged for your head, nor how many times they made you bleed, you continued to end every single one of them. You didn’t want any of them to suffer longer than they already have.

As with most things nowadays, in your eyes, the details were nothing but a blur. Everything felt… vague. Flashes of claws, bones, and agonizing pain run through your mind, yet no instance remained distinct for more than a second.

…Was this a symptom? Of the experiment, or the transformation?

Fear of the truth made you falter, and a skeletal tail surging straight through your right thigh forced your focus to return. But then so too would the questions, along with the subsequent terror, until another wound started the cycle another time. Again and again, until after what felt like an eternity, the last of them finally fell with an inhuman screech. It was done. But at what cost?

You surveyed your battleground, heart heavy and clenched in an icy grip. You couldn’t protect them, save them. Any of them.

A mighty hack then reverberated through the painfully silent air and caused you to flinch. Your head snapped up to turn to its direction, your feet already making their way over. You’d thoughtlessly skidded onto your knees, the coin-flip reaction bringing you to the survivor’s side. It was an alien.

Your eyes were wide in alarm, hands flittering around as your mind buzzed at what to do. There were so many injuries. Far too many for him to survive, alien or no. Your eyes met his, and your breath hitched in surprise. His irises didn’t scream anger or disgust like you expected. Instead, they were shining in wonder so innocent, it was almost childlike.

“You… Your body… did not… revolt?” the dying male grinned, placing a hand in yours to grip it in glee, “M-Miracle! It… I-It is m-miracle!”

For a moment, you were confused. Until you followed his gaze and watched as your body slowly stitched itself back together. One shallow cut in particular caught your attention, the damage slowly disappearing before your very eyes, leaving not a single blemish on your skin. You’d been so focused on fighting, that you didn’t even stop and wonder how you were still alive. After this day, there may not even be a single scar found.

At another bloody cough, newfound healing abilities were far from the forefront of your mind. Your vision blurred with tears, a sob escaping without your control. It was your fault. It was all your fault.

“Sorry…” You hadn’t spoken in so long, your voice harsh and throat sore, “I- I’m so sorry.”

He weakly shook his head, “B-Blame… not… on y-you. Deceived. We… We all… were…”

“W-What?”

With a wince, he forced his other arm to point to one of his fallen allies, a human researcher about a meter or so north of you.

“Necklace… take…” the light in his eyes was beginning to die, you could see it and he could feel it. Forcing a shaky smile, he murmured in his broken English, “Promise… y-you… not feel… guilty?”

“I…”

You knew you’d feel guilty.

You should, shouldn’t you? This was all your fault! You were careless and made a mistake once again. You didn’t see through the veil, you weren’t smart enough. You couldn’t stop the others, you weren’t quick enough.

You weren’t enough.

And just like before, people suffered because of it.

But… although he was on his last seconds of life, he looked at you so brightly. He was still so hopeful. How could you break such a wonderous being in his last moments?

You shook your head ‘no,’ lying, knowing this would be a wound that would last a long time to come. From the huff he gave, you felt like he knew that too.

Nonetheless, he coughed out, “P-Promise?”

You swallowed, feeling a fresh wave of hot tears cascading down your cheeks. With another lurch from your heavy heart, you gave him a nod and a shaky smile of your own, “I promise.”

His smile grew a fraction wider, “P… Pro… mise…”

His last breath left him, leaving the hand still in yours to fall, limp.

You were wrong earlier, there was a scar left behind.

The laceration you’d received from foolishly grabbing onto a tail, the one injury that had been obscured from your sight by his hold, had left a mark. You knew what it would be. A memento, of another time you’d failed. Of the first time your naivety took the life of another. You let a sob escape your control.

And another…

For hours you stayed on the blood-soaked sand, the coarse particles dyed red with the proof of the violent loss of life. By the time you heard a chopper land meters away to analyse the aftermath, your tears had long since dried and the last remnants of your rampant emotions were now trapped deep within, leaving only your now-signature emotionless mask. Thankfully, they understood enough that your mind was stuck elsewhere and didn’t bother to get a mission report out of you.

They did, however, cheer at the averted “crisis.”

All except Lucia. It was a small comfort, but a comfort, nonetheless. Rather than cheering, she sat next to you, a consoling hand on your shoulder as she murmured apologies for wrongs not her own.

For a brief moment, you wondered why she was here. What her role was in all of this mess, how she got caught up in it…

But when the others’ voices drowned out Lucia’s and all you could hear was their excitement and joy, your thoughts were immediately overrun by pure rage. Your stare morphed into a glare as your eyes kept themselves glued to the carnage below, hand clutching the unseen necklace concealed by your dog tags.

You were the only one who survived.

You were the only success.

You were now a monster.

~~~

It was two years later after that, that the third occurrence happened.

Although you held a great amount of distrust for the U.S. Military, you never left their command. Foolishly, you stayed and did whatever they said. You went to where they told you you’d been needed. You fought who they told you to fight. You killed who they told you to kill.

All because of your own fear.

What if you were already transforming? What if your body was just one second away from fighting whatever gave you your powers? What if, the moment you left… you went berserk?

One “what if” after another festered in your mind, leading to you to forcibly suppress your own self and play their perfect little soldier, if only to keep your own body at bay should it ever run amok.

After all, they created you. The only ones who would know how to stop you would be them, right?

Besides, what would you even do once you left? They’d written the end of your life for you the moment you agreed to be a lab experiment.

Who would you have turned to?

Alex?

You scoffed at the thought. You said “yes” to help protect her, not drag her into the damn problem.

For a year and a half, you’d justified your stay with those thoughts, and for more than half of that time you let yourself be used as a mere weapon. It took you a year until you accepted the truth of your situation, and it wasn’t until roughly three months prior to your third failure that you finally let yourself see reason.

You sat up on your bunk, eyes on your hands, staring at blood that none but you could see. Sweat dripped from your brow, faint screams echoing in your eardrums, audible just beneath the vigorous beating of your heart.

‘I can’t keep this up…’ You released a shuddering breath, ‘How long will I have to keep this up?!’

Ever since that day in the desert, your nights were never peaceful, your sleep never serene. You’d long since gotten used to the endless screams of terror, the unending stream of unfamiliar faces contorting in woe. But what you hadn’t prepared for—what you never thought you’d ever need to prepare for—was for those faces to suddenly become familiar.

Alex had been petrified, the alien terrified, and Lucia… Lucia lay on the bloodied, black dirt, prone. Her face perpetually mortified. Even after you lurched forward in your bed and had left the realm of dreams, their suffering still danced in the shadows of your surroundings, the remnants of their frightened faces flashing in your eyes like some ghastly slideshow.

Their misery was because of you. You’d stumbled too deep into the haze, and by the time you came out, you had become what you feared the most. The cause of their torment.

‘What am I doing with my life?’

It was on that night that you truly accepted the reality of your situation. You had let your mind wander and, without realizing, let yourself function on autopilot for too long. It wasn’t until now, on this night—when you were terrorized by their screams—that you accepted that fact. But you felt it was already too late.

By mindlessly putting your life on the line, you had saved hundreds of lives—or so you were told. Yet for every life you saved, you knew there had been at least one you’d taken in return.

Your comrades rejoiced at your feats, and even a few of the higher-ups praised your work.

And yet…

Why did you feel nothing? Why did you feel out of place?

Why did you feel like you were doing something you weren’t meant to?

You’d been confused, very much so. For over a year, in fact. Your body felt ironically alien. Different. As if you’d been sleepwalking the past two years. Your memories, too, felt foreign. They were more like dreams than anything else.

No… “dream” was far too nice of a word.

Nightmare—like vulnerable—seemed more fitting.

Your recollection of the past two years was a mess. There were only a handful of distinct memories you could recall, and all were of them. Alex… the alien… and Lucia. The rest were all a hazy blur, a fever dream that kept you jumping from one horrific scene to another.

You didn’t even know who you’d been fighting the entire time. No one ever gave you a clear picture, only stating where you were needed and what had to be done. You vaguely remember a mix of terrified faces, both alien and human. What did they even do wrong?

Did they even do wrong?

It was then that reality truly sunk in. You already knew that you were a weapon, one for them to use however and whenever they saw fit. What was hardest to swallow was the fact that the blood you’d let yourself spill—blood you could’ve chosen not to spill—could very well have been those of innocents.

You buried your face into your knees, fingers threading through your hair and gripping your pounding skull. You felt your nails dig into your scalp.

Luckily for your tattered mental state, Lucia had been there to help anchor you back to reality.

She murmured lowly as she gently pried your fingers from your head, and though her words went through one ear and out the other, her voice alone soothed you. You found that she knew exactly what to do, and even let you bury your face into her shoulder as she cooed at you softly, her hands tenderly drawing calming patterns on your back.

You’d been so happy that she was there. It wasn’t until hours later, after both of you had passed out in emotional exhaustion, that you woke up and realized that she had always been there. You’d just been too stuck in your own mind to see her.

When she woke up, her eyes meeting yours, neither of you spoke a word. Yet you both knew your dynamic had shifted, the air between you different. It simply went unsaid.

It didn’t go unseen, however. Everyone knew how dangerous you were, and after a rookie’s idiotic mistake, knew how equally dangerous it was to make Lucia unhappy in any way.

(His shoulder wouldn’t shove into others the same way again, nor would his ego inflate with the chasm you’d left.)

Stupidly, despite the revelations of that night—perhaps even because of said revelations—you continued living under the government’s employ.

In your mind, it was no longer just for your fear, it was also for her sake. If you left, you knew she would do whatever it took to stay by your side, regardless of the danger. Even if you were to be hunted, experimented, or executed, she would stay. And none of those fates were any you would allow to befall her.

No matter the gruesome sights that looped in your mind like a film at some grisly theatre, you jumped into the fray again, and again, and again. Still as reckless. Still as unrelenting. Still as guilty.

Not a single complaint ever left your lips. You felt you deserved it. But more importantly, you felt you were protecting her.

She didn’t agree.

The topic had been the spark of many arguments between the two of you, one such case being…

“You can’t keep doing this—you can’t keep living like this!”

‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

You stayed silent, sat on your bed in your designated quarters. Your eyes were trained on her pacing form as you fiddled with the fresh bandages on your arms, replies only said in mind.

At this point, this scene was common. You’d gotten injured, she’d gotten frustrated, and you had the decency to listen. You knew Lucia wasn’t mad at you. Annoyed? Maybe. But not mad. Her anger was always directed at the same people, and never to you. She just hated to see you hurt.

‘Unfortunately, it’s an occupational haza—'

“—And don’t you say it’s an occupational hazard!”

Or… not?

Lucia stopped in her tracks, eyes boring into your own, “There are always ways to complete your missions without you ending up a bloody mess, but they don’t care about that, do they? As long as the mission is completed as soon as possible, they don’t give a damn. What if you never healed? What if you actually found something that would actually get you killed?”

You had no response for that.

“They don’t even know of the full extent of your powers—none of us do! They started sending you out the day after that desert! Yet here we are again… I don’t understand why we don’t just leave.”

You opened your mouth to speak for the first time, to remind her of the dangers of such a plan just as you always had in the past, when you felt your hairs stand on end. Someone was eavesdropping. Your glare flashed to the door, spotting an eye widen at your stare before rushing off. You’d rush after them, but you knew nothing could be done without arousing suspicion. This base was full soldiers, and thus witnesses. Unfortunately, it was also full of snitches.

You stood abruptly, causing Lucia to jerk in surprise. Her brow furrowed when she spotted the grim frown you now wore.

“We’re leaving. Now.”

She could only blink in shock, “Now?”

“Now.”

The conversation would’ve been seen as treason. Or, at best, the start of it. You needed to run.

She followed your unwavering stare to the door, the sight of its slight opening making the cogs in her mind connect the dots. Someone had heard, and were no doubt reporting you. Her shock melted into determination, “I’ve already got a bag of necessities packed in case of an emergency escape. Let’s go.”

Next thing you knew, you were both dashing through corridors, unfamiliar alarms blaring the moment you had retrieved her bag. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who had prepared for this eventuality.

Squad after squad were sent after you both, all made up of people you’d seen as comrades and allies not even an hour before. Any fondness you held for each of them, however, immediately dissipated the moment they aimed a gun even a meter in Lucia’s direction. With a growl, you tore through every single one of them, unabashed by their betrayed yells so long as her safety was assured.

But you’d made a mistake. You were focused too much on those aiming for her, that you forgot there were others targeting yourself. Lucia didn’t. Which is why she spotted the soldier pulling out a weapon from a case before you did.

It looked like a gun, but she knew it was different. She could feel that it was. When they overlooked her completely and aimed for you, she knew she was right. Without a second thought, she shoved you out of the way, just as the soldier pulled the trigger.

A bang echoed in your ears, then a pained scream and a thud.

Your heart dropped. She’d pushed you away. Because of her, the bullet only grazed your torso… before tearing straight through her own.

You fell to your knees, not sparing a glance away from Lucia even as you put a bullet straight through the head of the soldier responsible.

“You IDIOT! Why would you do that?! You know I would’ve survived it!”

Your eyes were panicked, breathing growing more erratic by the second as you attempted to staunch the blood flowing from her wound. There was so much blood… why was there so much blood?!

“No…” she shook her head, “You… You wouldn’t’ve. N-Not… Not this one.”

You could hear footsteps and voices growing closer. You ignored them.

“I always survive, it’s my THING!” You gritted your teeth, ignoring the tears leaving tracks down your cheeks, “Stop talking, would you?! You need all your damn energy!”

Lucia simply smiled, even as more of the coppery liquid slid down the side of her mouth, “Promise me… promise me you w-won’t blame yourself f-for this?”

Déjà vu. Taunting, agonizing, déjà vu.

“I… I…” more tears, and a sob. What ever happened to control? “…I can’t.”

Her smile didn’t waver, as if she expected your response. Instead, she lifted a hand to your cheek, thumb gently wiping a tear away, “I know what you’re thinking, and I know it’s hard f-for you t-to think otherwise, love… but this isn’t your fault. I chose to do this. Y-You couldn’t’ve done anything to stop me.”

“…” You shook your head in disbelief, feeling more blood seep through your fingers.

Why wouldn’t the bleeding stop?!

“C’mon, love. P-Please, look at me?”

“…”

You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to see her so accepting of her fate.

Yet you couldn’t help the confused furrow of your brows at her tapping your jaw, your focus immediately swivelling to her. Not on instinct, but in question, confusion, and slight betrayal. You’d never regretted telling her of your first love, of admitting that there were some things you could never forget. Until now.

“Th-There you are. I know it hurts, but you have t-to p-promise me, then you need to leave me.”

The familiar action had increased your pain tenfold, but her words had the panic in your eyes grow more intense, blood freezing in your veins.

‘No. NO. NononoNO—’ You looked away as you felt your body quake, the chill caused by her words making your limbs feel like lead, ‘Not you… anybody but you!’

You felt her tap your jaw again, but you didn’t look to her, preferring to stubbornly keep your eyes on your hands. You wouldn’t- You couldn’t.

“Please…” Lucia’s voice sounded so small, distant. Just like with the alien, you knew she was on her last breaths, and so did she, “L-Listen to me… they… now want you… gone. I-I know… it’s a lot to ask, but you have to leave me. Please. T-That bullet was meant f-for you—”

You couldn’t help but snap, “What bullet isn’t when I’m out on the field?!”

“N-No, love. T-They made it for you. T-To kill you…” she weakly shook her head, “I… I… s-saw it… wasn’t… normal.”

“Shit—SHIT! Why can’t I stop the god damn bleeding?!”

You hated that there were so many things that you couldn’t do. Why can’t you just do something—anything—right for once?!

As always, she knew where your mind was headed, “N-No matter… how little… y-you… think of yourself… I know y-you were meant… to be amazing. F-From the moment I… I saw you… I knew you’d be… a… a-a hero.”

“What kind of fucking hero can’t even save the person she loves?!” head hung low, you pulled your hands away from her wound, reluctantly accepting that it was futile, “What kind of useless hero am I?”

You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the other draping itself across her stomach. You shifted yourself closer, cautiously embracing the dying woman. Apology after apology left your mouth, your tears dripped down from your cheeks only to mix with her own.

“It’s not… your… fau…” her hand, now much weaker than it had been earlier, fell limply onto the arm you’d placed on her stomach. When her fingers lightly squeezed your forearm, you knew what she expected. You released your grip on her hip, linking your hand with hers, making her chuckle faintly, “I-It… theirs… y-y’hear me? N-Never fo… forget… ‘s wasn’t… fault…”

“I… I won’t…”

You knew you’d never forget this day… just as how you’d never forget where the fault would forever lay in your mind.

“L… Love you…” her eyes were fluttering shut, and at the tug of her hand, you knew what she wanted.

You leaned closer, your lips pressing on hers for the final time. Only a second later did her last breath leave her lungs, and with it, one more piece of your fragile heart.

You could only stare, hoping that she would open her eyes and fill the deafening silence. But she didn’t, and you had to accept that she never would. When your mind finally opened itself to the rest of the world, you could hear the soldiers. Their orders for you to back down… or, more specifically, his.

General Lane.

When you saw a glimpse of his face, everything turned red and screams replaced the buzzing in your ears. You could never remember much past their anguish.

All you knew was the gash on your torso healed, but the mark never faded.

~~~

Six months passed, and sleep was still a stranger. So were your mind and memories, but what else was new?

You had no idea where you were, you never did more than half the time. More often than not, you’d find yourself lost in thought, staring off at nothing as your finger lightly traced the scar hidden beneath your shirt. Sometimes you’d snap out of it, standing in the middle of an unfamiliar area. Occasionally, you’d stop yourself mid-step as you were walking or crossing the street.

Either way, people would be staring at you like you were insane. You couldn’t blame them, you felt like you were. That was fine, you never stayed in one area for long anyway.

For the past couple of months you’d been hopping from place to place, lingering only for three days at most. You didn’t have to do much to conceal your identity, considering the government already got rid of it for you. You did get yourself a new name, though.

Corazon.

Wasn’t exactly subtle to you, but it was better than Soldier Six and at least you could remember it.

How could you not, when your mistakes were always made by your soft heart?

You only wished that you had the ability to rid yourself of your emotions, then at least living would be somewhat bearable. You hated that even the smallest things could trigger your beating heart. It could’ve been a hair colour, a laugh, or just an oblivious pair holding hands, your heart wouldn’t fail to work with your fractured memories and remind you of what you’d lost.

You wished you could split the two, or at least rid yourself of one… maybe even both. You couldn’t think without feeling, nor feel without thinking. If you had no way to feel, no way to have a conscious thought, or both, then living a seemingly deathless life would be bearable. Sure, that sort of life isn’t one others would say is worth living, but neither is the one you are now.

The only thing keeping you away from finding a way to have that ‘plan’ to come into fruition, was the fact that—as far as you know—only the government could ‘help.’

You never wanted to make contact with those bastards again.

“Wha- HEY!”

At the indignant yell, you blinked yourself out of your stupor. Confused, you looked around.

You’d wandered into an alley. Huh.

Hearing a groan, you glanced down, spotting a boy who couldn’t’ve been any older than mid-teens. He was sat on the concrete, rubbing his forehead, having presumably fallen after colliding with you.

Then, you heard yelling.

You looked up and saw a group of men pointing and yelling unintelligibly at the boy at your feet. He sprang up and made a move to exit, only for your hand on his shoulder to stop him in his tracks. You felt his eyes on you, but yours never left the group stomping closer as they brandished their makeshift weapons in a supposedly threatening manner.

Hammers, nails in bats, metal pipes… generic, stereotypical, bad guy weapons. You saw a gun or two poking out from the waistbands of their pants, yet you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

When they stopped in front of you, they even puffed out their chests to make themselves look bigger. One of them stepped forward and grumbled with a voice made forcibly gruff, “You with this brat?”

“Pff,” You only shook your head in mirth. You’d heard of people like this in movies, but you never knew they actually existed.

His lips curled up into a snarl, “What’s so funny.”

“…” You smiled, tilted your head in faux innocence, and admitted clearly, “You.”

Predictably, your response infuriated him, and he launched himself towards you to attack.

Within a minute, him and his group were all unconscious, weapons—including their guns—left splintered and bent on the damp ground.

You grumbled, “Idiots.”

With another roll of your eyes, you spun on your heels and moved to leave the scene… only to face an overexcited fourteen-year-old.

“That was AWESOME!”

“!”

You blinked. You’d forgotten he was there. You watched, an eyebrow raised as he asked question after question, each going through one ear and out the other. Your mind didn’t register a single one, but from the rapid rate the words seemed to leave his lips, the number seemed endless.

Didn’t he need to breathe?

It was here that the boy lurched to a stop, his lungs lacking the air required to allow speech. You only blinked when he took in just a little too much oxygen. His overdramatic wheezing caused you to smirk and huff in mild amusement. His eyes darted to you at the noise, focusing on your mirth as he smacked a fist against his chest in an effort to abate his hacking.

“You…” he coughed again, “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You only offered a shrug in response. Considering past experience, human interaction wasn’t something you necessarily searched for. Generally, they all ended up morphing into some form of confrontation for you—or loss, but that was a thought hurriedly buried in the deepest recesses of your mind.

The boy wasn’t deterred by your silence. Instead, he seemed even more determined to fill the space with his own words. Again, most of them generally went through one ear and out the other.

“—I’m Lucas!”

Wait. Why was the kid telling you their name?

You still didn’t reply, but ‘Lucas’ didn’t seem fazed and continued, saying, “My friends call me Luke, though!”

He then scratched his head sheepishly, “Well… they would, if I had any.”

Head tilted in a questioning manner, your brow furrowed at his admission, movements that he managed to notice.

“Ah… well, nobody ever wants to be friends with the weird kid.”

You raised your eyebrow, and he pointed to the unconscious group at your feet as an explanation.

“Wouldn’t be the first time these guys went after me, and they don’t care whether I’m at school or not,” Lucas kicked away a stray can, giving the men an annoyed sneer, “Just that Dad ‘pays them back’ or something, I dunno. No one really wants to be caught up in a mess like this.”

You’d followed his gaze, staring at the people sprawled out on the dirty floor.

What were these guys, self-proclaimed tax collectors? Loan sharks? Wannabe gang members?

That last one seems to fit them to a T.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud growling of a stomach. And it wasn’t yours.

Shaking your head, you glanced back at Lucas, his face red in embarrassment. Without hesitation, you rooted through the pockets of a few of the men, forgoing their cards and instead pulled out handfuls of cash from their wallets.

You may already be considered a criminal by the U.S. Army, but you didn’t want more on your record than you already had. And you had standards.

You’d rather have “assault” and “pickpocketing” on that record over “not paying for fast food” any day. That last one just seems like a real shitty thing to be arrested over. Besides, you’d never steal from ordinary civilians… but you’d make exceptions for assholes.

You moved to leave the alley again, tousling Lucas’ hair as you went past. When you didn’t hear his footsteps following, you stopped at the entrance, sending another glance back towards his way you huffed at his stupefied expression before jerking your head in a gesture to follow. You couldn’t help but smile at his joyful expression, biting back a chuckle at his excited hopping at your side.

“Nice to meet you, Luke.”

Six more months passed, and after meeting Lucas, you haven’t left the town. You’d found out that he’d essentially raised himself. The kid’s mother was gone, and he didn’t know why. You met his father, and after that one meeting you knew he was useless. His debts weren’t even for necessities, just for his alcohol and gambling. Guy didn’t even seem to care that his son was the one suffering most from the consequences of his actions.

You were annoyed, but after witnessing him passed out in a bathtub, reaching over the edge to clutch at a toilet while a bottle of whiskey hung from his fingers, you knew he was a lost cause. Lucas knew it, too. Admitted that he’d known so for years.

You felt bad for the kid and did what you could to help. You kept those lackeys off his back. Got him clothes, food, school supplies if he needed them. You didn’t tell him where you got the money and he never asked, but considering how you’d initially met you assume he had a slight idea. You still didn’t talk much, and your attention span failed you at times, but he understood. He knew that you were at least trying.

At times he’d ask you for help with his homework, and you were convinced it caused you just as much grief as it did him. You could barely remember what happened months or a year before, let alone what you’d learnt over a decade ago.

You were a weapon, not a teacher. You could teach him how to kick ass with the best of them, but you didn’t know shit about literature or geography. Or whatever it was high schoolers learnt these days.

Even when you were working with the government, you didn’t have to know how to get around yourself. They just shipped you to the mission location and back, and that was that. You didn’t even know you got around now, considering how most of your time on the road was spent in your head.

You swear he only asked you to laugh at you. You’d try to intimidate him with a deadpan stare, but that only made the cheeky brat laugh louder. Your exasperation would fizzle out soon enough, his joy infectious. You found yourself feeling… happy. Normal. Like an average human. Something you never thought would be a near-unreachable standard.

But of course, as always, happiness in your life never lasted long.

You’d stopped moving. You stayed in one place for too long.

You’d focused too much on the present, that you forgot about the past you’d been running to escape. And so, it caught up.

You were running again. They were at your heels, this time. And you couldn’t just beat them into the ground.

Their weapons looked different. Their bullets hurt.

You didn’t want to believe that this was happening. Just this morning you’d been laughing with Lucas, pancake batter and syrup drizzled over your heads.

Now all you could hear were shouts and gunfire, blood dripping down a healing cut at your temple.

You wanted them to lose your tracks, but you knew how they worked. If you disappeared completely, they’d have to look for clues. Which would lead them to Lucas. Which was why you were leading them, herding them away like sheep to be as far away from the kid as possible. But it was not meant to be.

“Sis!”

The voice made electricity shoot up your spine, catching more than just your attention. You noticed a few soldiers turn to look his way as he ran towards you, even as you shook your head and urged him to turn back. He wouldn’t. You were family, how could he leave you behind?

“LUKE, RUN!”

…Was that your voice? Sometimes you’d forget what your voice sounded like, and not using it for weeks at a time definitely didn’t help your case.

He skidded meters away, eyeing the soldiers, his face conflicted, “But—”

You heard the crackling of their comms and spotted a few guns being pointed his way, one of them even pulled out a pin.

What the fuck was General Lane thinking?!

The kid was a civilian, not a criminal!

You sprinted over to Lucas, body shielding his within a second. You felt bullets pierce your back, easily tearing through the fabric of your clothing. You heard Lucas yelling for them to stop, but you knew they wouldn’t listen. You heard the tell-tale clinking of a grenade rolling on the concrete and you tightened your grip around him, eyes screwed shut. You heard the bellowed orders “TAKE COVER” and then…

Pain.

Searing, white-hot, pain was spreading on your back. You felt shrapnel enter your torso, the heat eating away at your skin. You forced yourself to endure the agony.

You were protecting him.

You repeated those four words in your mind like a mantra, mind clinging to them for a way to ground itself.

When you felt the dust settling, the ringing in your ears calming, you dared to open your eyes. And you wish you didn’t.

Despite your best efforts, Lucas had been hit. Twice. The projectiles had presumably ricocheted. Whether it was shrapnel or bullets, you didn’t know. All you knew was that he was wounded, and that you’ve failed once again.

“No…” You rasped out, tears obscuring your vision. Your throat hurt from disuse, but you continued to force the words out, “No… kid, not you too!”

“Hah,” Lucas laughed, not noticing the blood that came with the motion, “I’m… I… I didn’t e-expect to go like this. P-Pretty badass, huh?”

His eyes were beginning to flutter closed, the light in his eyes quickly dulling. Your breath hitched in your throat, and gritting your teeth, you muttered, “No, no… c’mon, eyes on me bud. Eyes on me!”

His head weakly flopped to the side as he grinned, teeth stained with blood, “S’okay… was meant t-to be gone in… in… that alley. Y’saved me… y’let me be happy… thank you.”

Lucas went limp. Just like that, he was gone. And so were you.

You didn’t flinch when the wounds on your back slowly stitched themselves back together, no doubt leaving a mark as every failure always did.

You didn’t resist when they forcefully yanked you away, uncaring that they had just taken the life of an innocent. The life of a child.

You felt someone forcefully lift your head, to which you muttered, “Kill me. Please.”

You didn’t speak any more after that, no matter how much they tried to get a reaction.

No… you wouldn’t do anything until you were either dead, or put face-to-face with the bastard you knew gave the order.

And as expected, they put him right where you wanted him.

You were back at the base, arid desert and all.

They’d seated you in a metal chair, one bolted down to the thick concrete beneath your feet. Your arms were forced to lie flush against its armrests, wrists cuffed into place.

You were in one of the interrogation rooms, metal walls to the front, back and the left. You weren’t fooled. You knew the wall to the right was a one-sided window. To know that there were people just watching you…

You felt like an animal.

It was only after General Lane stood across from you, after the only door leading in and out of the room clicked shut, that you even twitched. Your attention finally drifted up from the flimsy metal cuffs that they’d clamped around your wrists—not that they knew your strength had grown—and to the poor excuse of a man attempting to stand tall.

You glared at him, unabashedly showing the hatred burning within you. It made him swallow, despite the poker face he attempted to keep up. Your silent staring contest stretched on and on, his mouth repeatedly opening and closing in indecision. He wanted to speak, but had no idea what to say.

The people behind the window had plenty of words, though. You couldn’t catch all of them, but you managed to decipher a muffled few.

“Dad” was one. Which meant one of the people might’ve been his kid. Wouldn’t be implausible. Last time you paid attention to him, he had two. Girls, if your memory actually served you correct. And two of the voices you could hear were distinctly feminine.

“Our” was another, spoken with a lilt for emphasis before “Dad”, which meant both of his kids were there. If your first assumption was correct.

“Superman” was the last one you heard. It was the word that caused you the most grief. Why mention the “Man of Steel”? You remembered hearing someone rant about the Kryptonian, mentioning a possible relation between the hero and a journalist. One of General Lane’s kids was a journalist. That could pose a problem. If his kids really were on the other side of the glass, and Lucas’ info—

‘Luke.’

Any hesitation you had dissipated instantly. No matter what would become of you, you’d make this bastard pay. It was the least you could do.

Breaking away from the General’s stare, your eyes flashed to the window, cogs turning in your mind. Perhaps you could do worse than cause simple, physical, pain. You could expose him, have his children lose their faith in him. Even if they weren’t his children, they would be his soldiers. It could lead to questioning of his authority.

It was worth a shot. Besides, what did you have to lose?

“You killed him,” you snarled, “He was just a boy, but you killed him.”

You shot up from your seat. Rather, you shot up with your seat. The cuffs were still in place, but the bolts that held the seat down had lost their hold with a resounding crack.

General Lane jumped back in shock, the doorknob now jiggling as his soldiers desperately tried to come to his aid.

Without missing a beat, you tore your hands out of their restraints and pulled the long metal table that separated you two upwards, shoving it legs-first into where the door would be. The legs went right through the wall, the body of the table now blocking the entrance as well as the door itself.

‘That’s the front wall and entrance covered…’

With an audible growl, you turned back to the general, the man now scrambling back to push himself flat against a wall in fear. He was pointing a pistol at you, but you were undeterred.

You took a step, and he took a shot.

You took another, and he did the same.

You took a third, and the man emptied his gun into your torso.

You weren’t fazed, your fury burning too great for you to feel anything other than rage.

He looked like he was about to reply to your yell, but you cut him off before he could, snapping, “Your problem was with me. It always has been. There was no need for you to involve a civilian, let alone ordering your men to open fire!”

“I… I—”

“I wanted to live, so you tried to have me die. When I do want to die, you keep me alive. How much more do I have to suffer for you to be satisfied?! How much longer do I have to exist, for my wants to actually matter?!”

As you stomped closer towards him, you gripped the chair that had been meant for him and threw it across the room. The object formed a deep dent upon impact and rendered the back wall weak.

Releasing another growl, you lifted him up by the collar of his uniform, “How much lower are you going to fall, after murdering that poor boy? Is there even a bar lower for you to reach?!”

The general continued to ignore the futility of repeatedly pulling the trigger of his empty pistol, desperate for a way out. But without a miracle, he would never be able to escape.

Unfortunately, he got one. It came in the form of a Kryptonian, at that.

Superman broke through the dented wall, quick in separating you from the general. You felt your back smack against the one-sided window, the cool glass cracking beneath your flesh.

Oh, right. You hadn’t had the chance to change. Your shirt was still burnt at the back, the rest of your clothing tattered at the edges and your feet shoeless. Your state of dress seemed to come as a surprise to Superman, too. If the brief moment he took to observe his ‘opponent’ was any indication.

You glanced at the wall he’d used as an entrance. It wasn’t that much of a fall. It wouldn’t take much to heal if you got hurt. Ten seconds, at most.

Within a breath, you fearlessly leaped through the broken wall. You heard a choke of astonishment behind you as you did, but as much as you wanted to be amused by the alien, you recognized the threat he was to your freedom.

He was a goody-two-shoes. If he caught you, you’d just be locked up. And you’d be used as a lab rat or a weapon all over again. Never able to die.

You couldn’t let that happen.

You’d landed with a wince and a roll, a sickening crack shooting shocks up your left arm. You’d shaken off the pain, sprinting towards where you knew the weapons vault was. The rushing of wind reached your ears, indicating that the alien wasn’t far behind. Spotting the vault entrance straight ahead, you trusted your instincts and slid across the tile floor as if you were running a base. It worked.

Superman flew straight past you, and not expecting you to have sensed him coming, was going too fast to stop himself from crashing into the vault. Your eyes widened at the sight. You hadn’t predicted it either.

Hurriedly pushing yourself up to your feet, you’d rushed into the vault, mind flashing through the arsenal they had you use throughout the years. You’d known what they had in there, and one of them was definitely not good for a Super.

When you stepped foot into the vault, you were proven right. Superman was struggling to stand, green creeping its way through his veins.

“Shit…” without hesitation, you pulled him up. You wrapped his arm around your neck and dragged him out, uncaring of the guns pointed at you. You felt his questioning stare, and grumbled, “What.”

“Why?”

Such a simple question, made of only one word… yet the true nature of its complexity was beyond you. You shook your head. Not the time.

“Never wanted to kill anyone. Never wanted anyone dead, either…” You sighed, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Just wanted to be happy.”

Once you determined that he was at a safe enough distance, you promptly let him flop into the ground. You huffed at his comical “oof” before revealing the smoke grenade you had swiped from the vault. You pulled its pin, and as everyone’s vision began to be obscured, you muttered words only Superman could hear.

“Please, just leave me alone…”

~~~

You didn’t know if it was because of Superman’s influence, but you were. Left alone, that is. Then again, it might’ve been because you’d kept away from civilization as best as you could, staying in forests for as long as you were able.

For how long at this point? You weren’t sure. By the time you’d left him in the smoke, it had been five years since the dorm with Alex. Three since the experiment. One since Lucia. And... none since Luke.

With a shake of your head, their blurred faces and vague memories faded in an instant, the frown at the resurfacing thoughts of them quickly replaced with an easy-going smile.

The woods weren’t too bad.

The animals were surprisingly amicable, and you found an unfamiliar joy in jumping into lakes and rivers without any remorse. If you needed anything that couldn’t be provided naturally, the camp sites you’d managed to memorize the locations of were useful in that regard. Clothes, food, money…

You didn’t realize exactly how easy it was to steal from civilians until you weren’t one yourself.

Still... it should be troubling that you didn’t know how long you’d been living in the forests. Every day blurs together. You didn’t even know what forest you were living in. Or if you’d lived in more than one. Your memories continued to fracture, and due to lack of practice, you could feel your ability to speak and understand wavering.

Your memories…

Very few of them remained intact. You had a feeling that you had a part to play in it, intentional or not, considering that the ones you could remember seemed happy, and anything otherwise—anything that caused pain… either you got rid of them the second they came, or it made you retreat into the deepest recesses of your mind, never knowing how long you’d been in there the moment you returned to reality.

Could’ve been a few seconds, minutes, maybe even hours. It was partially why you’d lost track of how long you’d been living among the trees.

Every time you thought of your past, you were reminded of the burden that was carrying emotions. Of being human. It was roughly one month into living away from humans, that you accepted it was simpler to just ignore the fact that you had a life before this mess. That there had ever been happier times. If you couldn’t identify what was considered a ‘good’ memory, then you wouldn’t be sucked into the ‘bad’, right?

So you buried them. Even imagined little coffins for them and everything.

Part of you knows that it’s unhealthy. But that mindset is what led to those instances now being few and far in between—or, at least you hoped they were. Again, you didn’t really have a good sense of time.

But living was good. It was fun, not thinking of anything but what to do next. You could spend an entire day chasing after deer, or just climbing a tree. And do the same thing all over again tomorrow!

…It all sounds a bit boring now that you think about it. But oddly enough, the days were surprisingly fun. If you really wanted a thrill, all you had to do was start wrestling a bear! That was fun.

You were actually rushing away from one right now, teasingly dangling yourself from one branch of a tree to another, when you heard a scream. A female scream, and then… a crash. While the noise terrified the bear, it only intrigued you, drawing you closer. Almost like a siren’s call.

You dropped down to the forest floor, tackling the bear in the process. After absentmindedly hauling it over your shoulder, you dashed through the treeline within seconds. Once out of the forest, you coughed as you blinked at the wreckage before you.

Two vehicles had collided roughly thirty meters away, the smoke billowing from the smouldering wreck making your lungs burn. What startled you more was the armed man holding a gun up to an injured, blonde woman twenty meters away from the crash.

You blinked at the man, who seemed to be talking the woman’s ears off. Rather, what was the word… monologuing? Yeah. Monologuing.

His cocky grin made you roll your eyes, the action leading to you noticing the bear’s presence on your shoulder. An idea struck. Your eyes narrowed at the man, before glancing over to the bear. The man. The bear. The man…

“BEAR!”

You gleefully yelled, startling them both. But what brought complete horror upon both humans, was the fact that there was now a bear hurtling towards them. Correction, towards the man.

He dropped like a rock, him and the bear both did. Whereas the poor, unharmed-yet-traumatised fuzzy animal quickly scrambled to its feet before sprinting back into the woods, the effectively disarmed male stayed flat on the concrete, out cold.

Tilting your head to the side, you walked up to the unconscious human, your brows furrowing as you wondered why he wasn’t moving.

You sniffed and rubbed at your itching nose, wincing at the horrible stench of roasting rubber. You couldn’t tell if the blood you smelt came from the wounds after the crash, or after the bear.

You gave him a light tap of a foot, checking if he’d wake up anytime soon. When the man didn’t budge, you shrugged and turned to go back to the forest, only to freeze when you were startled by the female he’d been threatening. You’d forgotten she was there, and the woman was far closer than you remembered her to be.

She looked stunned.

Her hands were hovering by her cheeks, palms over her mouth, tears brimming in her eyes as she muttered… a name? It sounded familiar. You didn’t know why. You tilted your head, confused.

“You…” she sobbed, tears now flowing freely. She stammered out, “You don’t remember, do you?”

Who was this woman?

Cautiously, you shook your head. Your was body tense, knees bent and ready to escape if you needed to.

“Nothing? It’s me, Eliza,” another shake of your head. She sniffled, “Eliza Danvers? One of my daughters brought you over for Thanksgiving a few times, you were like a part of our family, before… before… you disappeared.”

Danvers.

You didn’t hear anything past that, the word—name?—had a tremor course through your skull. That was… worrying? It should be worrying, right?

Your hands flashed to your aching temples, gritting your teeth, you croaked out, “D-Dan… Danvers?”

You hadn’t said anything in months. Your throat was probably as painful to use as your voice was to hear.

Eliza’s eyes shined brighter in realization. You were remembering.

“Yes, Danvers! Do you… Do you remember my daughter? She’d been your closest friend. Alex, Alexandra Danvers—”

Static was all you could hear. You dropped to your knees, the pain growing more unbearable the more she spoke. You barely felt the gravel of the road digging into your knees.

Alex?

Alex.

Who was—

“No… Don’t!”

That was… you? Why was this hurting so much? What was going on?

Why didn’t you want to remember?

You felt hands on your shoulders, desperately trying to… to what? Snap you out? Of what? Pain? You didn’t even know why it came up, let alone how to stop it!

Then… then a chill. One you haven’t felt since you encountered… someone. You couldn’t remember them, either.

All you could hear were your instincts.

Instincts…

Your instincts were screaming, frantic in wanting you to leave. To escape.

So you followed them.

Shrugging Eliza’s hands off of your shoulders, you jumped to your feet and swiftly fled into the woods, not turning back once. Not even when you heard her scream a name—yours?—and especially not when you heard the tell-tale swoosh of… a cape? You didn’t know.

Your thoughts made no sense right now. All you wanted was to go back and forget. To go back into the woods and be happy.

Just… be happy.

#Alex Danvers #Reader #x Reader #F!Reader #x F!Reader #Alex Danvers x Reader #Supergirl #Supergirl Fanfic #Supergirl Fic #Eliza Danvers #tw depressing thoughts #tw depressing stuff #tw depressive #tw depression #tw body horror #tw body modification #tw body parts #tw human experimentation

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mdzsartreblogs · 3 years

Text

10,000 Post Tag Round Up!

Phew. Sorry things have been quiet here, I’ve been really overwhelmed by my day job, and also I had some maintenance/bookkeeping stuff I wanted to do with the blog, and trying to find time to do it was really messing me up. It’s done now, though, so...

1. I’ve overhauled how I tag, or rather, how I organize those tags once they exist. I’ll tag just the same, but my master posts of tags will now only include tags used 10 or more times with a few exceptions - all trigger warnings remain, and all primary character tags, and all primary ship tags, even if they’re not at 10. However, most other things, there need to be ten. I’m hoping this will simplify my updating and save me some time, and relieve some psychological pressure too (knowing that every single time I created a new tag, I’d have to add it to the list, was a lot of work and stress for me.) All the tags still exist, though, and now when I do the tag wrangling for these summation posts, I’ll update the master tag lists too with anything now over ten.

2. As always, I’m expanding tagging and adding tags as needed to help people find the art they might want to see from the collection. If you have a trigger or squick that I am not currently tagging, and you’d like me to tag it, please let me know - anon asks are fine - what you’d like tag, and if you have a preferred tag that you already blacklist. As always, you can see everything this blog tags by referring to the pinned post.

3. As always if you know where any of the works tagged unknown location are, please let me know. Likewise, if you know any of the artists tagged unknown artist (it’s pretty much all official art), I’d appreciate your help a lot!

4. If you make fanart, feel free to @ me (@ unforth - Tumblr isn’t giving me any notifications on @ for this blog) or DM me (unforth or mdzsartreblogs are both fine) so I can add your new work to the queue! The queue is actually still empty - it took me almost 4 damn hours to do that work on the tags - but I’ll get some stuff in it tomorrow.

Thank you all for your follows, your patience, and your support of the artists whose work I reblog here!

-unforth

(and now, some stats...behind a read more...)

Characters Tagged Most Often: got a few new characters this time, which is exciting! That Dafan Mountain statue and Jin Rusong are the stand outs.

Wei Wuxian (4,961 works) (no change)

Lan Wangji (3,941 works) (no change)

Jiang Cheng (1,469 works) (no change)

Lan Xichen (865 works) (no change)

Nie Huaisang (798 works) (no change)

A Yuan (716 works) (no change)

Jin Ling (603 works) (no change)

Jin Guangyao (598 works) (no change)

Wen Ning (489 works) (no change)

Nie Mingjue (469 works) (no change)

Xiao Xingchen (443 works) (no change)

Jiang Yanli (413 works) (no change)

Xue Yang (355 works) (no change)

Lan Jingyi (319 works) (no change)

Wen Qing (301 works) (no change)

Ships Tagged Most Often: a continued growth in rare pairs and crack ships makes me happy. (I slightly changed how I calculated this so the numbers might look slightly wonky compared to last time)

Wangxian (2,747 works) (no change)

Songxiao (180 works) (no change)

Xicheng (166 works) (+1 from 9k post)

Sangcheng (163 works) (-1 from 9k post)

Xiyao (125 works) (no change)

Xuexiao (92 works) (no change)

3zun (63 works) (+1 from 9k post)

Yanqing (61 works) (+2 from 9k post)

Xuanli (61 works) (-2 from 9k post)

Xisang (60 works) (-1 from 9k post)

Platonic Relationships Tagged Most Often:

Twin Prides of Yunmeng (327 works) (no change)

Yunmeng Siblings (160 works) (+1 from 9k post)

Wangxian are Dads (153 works) (-1 from 9k post)

Twin Jades of Gusu (153 works) (+1 from 9k post)

Grape Uncle (151 works) (-1 from 9k)

Nie Brothers (123 works) (no change)

Wei Wuxian is a Dad (92 works) (no change)

Junior Trio (89 works) (no change)

Lan Wangji is a Dad (68 works) (no change)

Yi City Family (62 works) (no change)

Wen Siblings (62 works) (+1 from 9k post)

One Brain Cell Trio (61 works) (+1 from 9k post)

Junior Quartet (58 works) (+1 from 9k post)

Burial Mounds Family (57 works) (-3 from 9k post)

Wei Wuxian is an Uncle (56 works) (no change)

Artists Tagged Most Often: As of the 9k check in, there were 2,406 artists with at least one work reblogged here. Now there are 2,593, an increase of 187. That’s one of the smallest increases I’ve ever had...maybe we’re finally catching up to how many creators there actually are in this fandom?? Or not. idk. Please remember the below list is not a ranking, it’s simply which artists are most prolific and which I’ve encountered most frequently, thus leading me to reblog the most from them.

official art (135 works) (no change)

modao18 (102 works) (+2 from 9k post)

ibijau (92 works) (-1 from 9k post)

hilluhri (91 works) (-1 from 9k post)

sketchyscribbles (77 works) (+1 from 9k post)

littlesmartart (71 works) (+1 from 9k post)

bees0are0awesome (67 works) (-2 from 9k post)

v0006 (59 works) (no change)

joshuabeeking (56 works) (+1 from 9k post)

bbeiex (53 works) (-1 from 9k post)

valdrift (52 works) (no change)

TOP OTHER TAGS:

The 20 Most Used Other Tags:

portrait (8,341 works) (no change)

digital art (8,184 works) (no change)

comic (1,461 works) (+1 from 9k post)

flowers (1,421 works) (+1 from 9k post)

laughs (1,342 works) (+1 from 9k post)

sketch (1,281 works) (-3 from 9k post)

modern au (1,105 works) (no change)

chibi (948 works) (no change)

lan wangji has golden eyes (915 works (no change) )

wangxian hug (779 works) (+1 from 9k post)

chenqing (710 works) (+1 from 9k post)

yiling laozu (656 works) (+1 from 9k post)

ink work (638 works) (-3 from 9k post)

fantasy au (625 works) (+2 from 9k post)

pencil drawing (620 works) (no change)

food (604 works) (-2 from 9k post)

blood tw (554 works) (+1 from 9k post)

bunnies (551 works) (+1 from 9k post)

lan sizhui (541 works) (-2 from 9k post)

lemon (524 works) (no change)

And, by categories...

Actors:

xiao zhan (131 works) (no change)

wang yibo (91 works) (no change)

song jiyang (10 works) (no change)

zhu zanjin (7 works) (no change)

wang zhuocheng, liu haikuan, jianguo (the cat), and ji li are tied at 4 works (no change)

Animals:

bunnies (551 works) (no change)

birds (231 works) (no change)

butterflies (136 works) (no change)

cats (86 works) (no change)

dogs (55 works) (new!)

Character Attributes:

lan wangji has golden eyes (915 works) (no change)

yiling laozu (656 works) (no change)

lan sizhui (541 works) (no change)

wei wuxian has red eyes (476 works) (no change)

jiang cheng with braids (331 works) (no change)

fierce corpse wen ning (306 works) (no change)

blind xiao xingchen (268 works) (no change)

child a yuan (233 works) (no change)

jiang cheng has purple eyes (196 works) (no change)

wei wuxian in lan white (147 works) (new!)

Ship Attributes:

wangxian hug (779 works) (no change)

wangxian kiss (385 works) (no change)

wangxian holding hands (411 works) (no change)

lan wangji carrying wei wuxian (84 works) (no change)

xicheng hug (67 works) (no change)

wei wuxian wearing lan wangji’s ribbon (55 works) (new!)

wangxian duet (49 works) (+3 from 9k post)

shuangjie hug (49 works) (new!)

wangxian sharing a bed (46 works) (-1 from 9k post)

songxiao hug (45 works) (-4 from 9k post)

AU Tags:

modern au (1,105 works) (no change)

fantasy au (625 works) (no change)

canon divergent au (384 works) (+1 from 9k post)

fierce corpse (374 works) (-1 from 9k post)

creature wei wuxian (272 works) (no change)

creature lan wangji (246 works) (no change)

technological anachronism (178 works) (no change)

dragon (99 works) (+1 from 9k post)

historical au (70 works) (new!)

cat person (69 works) (new!)

Fandom Events, Holidays and Character Birthdays:

october art challenge (198 works) (no change)

wangxian week (106 works) (no change)

wei wuxian’s birthday (88 works) (no change)

lan wangji’s birthday (85 works) (no change)

valentine’s day (83 works) (no change)

Instruments and Weapons:

chenqing (710 works) (no change)

wangji (323 works) (no change)

bichen (321 works) (no change)

zidian (272 works) (no change)

suibian (119 works) (no change)

sandu (107 works) (no change)

baxia (96 works) (no change)

shuanghua (89 works) (no change)

fuxue (75 works) (no change)

liebing (70 works) (+1 from 9k post)

Common Motifs and Objects:

flowers (1,421 works) (no change)

food (604 works) (no change)

fan (495 works) (no change)

hearts (486 works) (no change)

stars (477 works) (no change)

lotuses (404 works) (no change)

alcohol (297 works) (no change)

jiang clan clarity bell (288 works) (+2 from 9k post)

the moon (285 works) (-1 from 9k post)

fire (279 works) (-1 from 9k post)

Media-Related Tags:

portrait (8,341 works) (no change)

digital art (8,184 works) (no change)

comic (1,461 works) (+1 from 9k post)

laughs (1,342 works) (+1 from 9k post)

sketch (1,281 works) (-2 from 9k post)

chibi (948 works) (no change)

ink work (638 works) (no change)

pencil drawing (620 works) (no change)

lineart (467 works) (no change)

screen cap redraw (352 works) (no change)

watercolor (316 works) (no change)

work in progress (250 works) (no change)

meme redraw (235 works) (no change)

landscape (169 works) (+1 from 9k post)

markers (164 works) (-1 from 9k post)

Trigger Warnings:

blood tw (554 works) (no change)

lemon (524 works) (no change)

mcd (304 works) (no change)

body horror tw (118 works) (no change)

suicide tw (39 works) (no change)

Locations and Eras:

cloud recesses (400) (no change)

lotus pier (256 works) (no change)

lecture era (138 works) (no change)

burial mounds (102 works) (no change)

post canon (89 works) (no change)

Lemons:

bondage (65 works) (no change)

bondage using the lan clan ribbon (31 works) (no change)

blindfolds (21 works) (no change)

hickies (19 works) (no change)

bottom wei wuxian (15 works) (no change)

Other Fandoms:

tian guan ci fu (100 works) (no change)

ren zha fanpai zijiu xitong (88 works) (no change)

legend of fei (9 works) (+1 from 9k post - was not in a tie before)

lang dianxia (9 works) (no change)

duoluo continent (8 works) (no change)

#mod post #tag wrangling

7 notes · View notes

rambling-at-midnight · 5 years

Text

Meddling

Anonymous Request: #8 and #80 for Peter Parker, please?

#8: “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain to me what you’re doing here.”

#80: “Why is that your password?”

It’s a widely known fact at school that Peter Parker is sort of a dork. He doesn’t make the best decisions. He gets caught in the wrong places. He says the wrong things. He says the right things at the wrong time.

It’s a widely known fact in Queens that Spider-man is super cool. He always shows up where he’s needed. He can take out eight men at once without breaking a sweat. He’s got witty retorts ready any second. He’s got crazy powers that make him strong and sticky.

It’s a widely known fact in the Stark tower that Peter Parker is kind of a genius. He can keep up with Tony Stark and is in the workshop with him 90% of the time he’s there. The other 10% of the time Peter spends at the tower is with you.

It is also a widely known fact in the Stark tower that Peter Parker has a crush on Y/N Stark, and that you have a crush on Spider-man.

Tony takes great amusement in the irony of that statement, although sometimes the obtuse way both teenagers skirt around their feelings for each other can be frustrating. Peter is literally the only guy Tony will ever accept for you because he can trust the webslinger would rather die than hurt the feelings of someone he loves.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” Peter greets when he walks into the common area.

“Hello, Peter,” the AI responds.

“Is Y/N here?”

“No,” FRIDAY says. “She does not return from the cabin until Thursday.”

Peter wilts a bit but nods. “Okay.”

See, the reason the ratio of Tony-to-Y/N time is so wonky is because of how much time you spend in the super-secret cabin. Tony insists on it for your protection or something like that.

“I’m still here,” Tony points out, pouring himself a coffee, and smirks when Peter jumps.

“I didn’t know you were there!” the teenager gasps, putting a hand to his heart like he’s in danger of a heart attack.

Tony snorts. “Is your Peter-tingle still not working?”

Taken aback, Peter stares at his mentor for a second before shaking his head. “I have got to stop Aunt May from talking about me to you. And no, I’ve told you this a thousand times; it doesn’t work when I’m around people that aren’t threats to me!”

“Whatever you say, buddy,” Tony shrugs, yawning. “Now, as I’m sure my presence is more than enough a substitute for the presence of my daughter, let’s get to work, why don’t we?”

Peter blushes. “Okay.”

“Speaking of my daughter,” Tony adds, “when are you going to ask her out?”

Peter falls flat on his face.

~~~~

You seriously love having private jets at your disposal; trips are so much more comfortable and quick. Especially private jets that are eco-friendly, because it means you can flaunt your wealth without worrying about people on the internet dragging you.

Nah, you’re just kidding. You don’t flaunt your wealth that much.

Just a little.

“I’m home!” you call when you walk into the quiet common floor of the Avengers tower. All the lights are off. You frown. “Dad?”

Nothing. He must be on a business call. They seem to pop up unexpectedly all the time and you don’t begrudge him for them.

Besides, it’s late. You’ll go to sleep and greet your father in the morning. And hopefully Peter.

You roll your eyes at yourself and check your phone in vain for new messages, but nothing comes through. Not your dad checking to see if the flight landed on time, not Peter sending you a meme, not even Natasha texting you mission details in the rare occurrence you’re allowed to accompany the team.

Nothing. Complete radio silence.

Being a Stark is more isolating than one would think.

You sigh and rub your eyes, excited to go to sleep in your comfortable bed in your soundproofed room.

“FRIDAY?” you try.

“Your father is otherwise engaged, Y/N,” the AI responds. “He sends his regrets. If it is any consolation, I am pleased to see you again. So to speak.”

You smile up at the ceiling. “Thanks, FRI.”

FRIDAY lights up the walk from the common area to your room. You’ve seen enough horror movies to have a faint sense of how creepy it is to only be able to see a few feet in front of you at a time, but you trust the AI. It’s not like anything’s going to happen to you. Besides, even if there is something or someone there, you’ve been trained in enough forms of combat by literally every Avenger so you’re pretty confident you can handle yourself.

You open your door, still contemplating your phone’s screen as if staring at it will make people send you texts, but something crashes in your bathroom and you jump. The door swings shut behind you as you rush to the bathroom.

A trussed-up Spider-man struggles to his feet from where he is in your shower.

Wait. Spider-man in my shower?

You raise a single eyebrow, relaxing and crossing your arms while leaning against the doorframe. “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain to me what you’re doing here.”

“Did you let the door shut?” Spider-man squeals.

You frown, confused. “Uhh...” A quick glance over your shoulder confirms that the door is, in fact, closed. “Yeah.”

The superhero groans. “No!”

“Um, you still haven’t explained a thing, and you’re down twenty seconds,” you prompt, tapping your wrist that doesn’t even bear a watch.

“Long story short, your dad locked me in here,” Spidey groans. “And now that you’ve let the door shut, you’re locked in here with me too.”

You bite your lip. “Uh... why would Dad lock you in my room, Peter?”

“I have no idea,” Spider-man replies, then freezes. “Wait! Who’s Peter? I—I’m not Peter, I don’t even know a Peter!”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” Spinning on your heel, you tug on your room’s door handle. True to his word, the door doesn’t budge.

“Seriously!” Spidey, hot on your heels, insists. “I really—I’ve never met you before in my life! I mean, I’ve seen you, because you’re famous because you’re Y/N Stark, but you’ve never met me! Or seen me! Or—”

“Peter.” You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “Honestly. Do you remember when my father announced to the world that he was Iron Man?”

“That’s a pivotal moment in history,” Spidey mutters, “so I’m sure that everyone remembers that.”

“Yeah. And did you know that he walked into that press conference with a fully detailed cover story as well as paid actors as witnesses to back up his story?”

“Uh...” Spider-man shifts his weight on his feet back and forth.

“And instead of simply reading off the cards like he was supposed to, he proceeded to announce to the entire world his second identity. So no, my father is not very good at lying or keeping secrets. And, Peter, do you remember that one time I walked in on you and Dad working on one of your suits?”

Spider-man crosses his arms over his chest. His mask reveals nothing of what he’s thinking.

“I made a joke about how cool it would be to meet Spider-man,” you continue, “and you proceeded to stammer on for five minutes about how that would be crazy for me because I’ve totally never met him before. So no. You and my dad are both terrible at keeping secrets and lying.”

You reach for the mask, hesitating for a moment to see if he’ll pull away. When he simply huffs, you tug the mask off, revealing Peter Parker’s flushed cheeks and bouncy curls. You can’t help the butterflies that flutter in your stomach. “You’ve known for months?”

“Months and months.” You grin crookedly at the flustered boy. “But seriously. Why are you locked in my room, Peter?”

“Okay,” the boy says quickly. “I came by today because I knew you were coming back and I thought it would be cool to say hi to you and show you this cool design we’re working on for your suit. We got repulsor rays just like Tony on the palms of your hands as well as the flight stabilizers, but it was tricky because your suit isn’t metal. But we got it eventually! And—”

“Peter,” you interrupt. God knows the boy could speak for hours by constantly going off on tangents.

“Right, right,” he says, biting his lip. He has no idea how attractive you find that action. “So I was here. And Tony thinks, I don’t know, that it would be funny to test the strength of the web formula we’ve been working on. And it’s not going to dissolve for two more hours,” he groans. That explains the weird white substance keeping his hands together. “I could get it apart, but that might rip my suit.”

“Yeah, I was wondering why you were wearing the old suit,” you remark.

“We were trying to blend the Iron Spider suit and my old suit together,” Peter explains. “So I was modeling this suit. But if I rip it now, it could destroy this suit completely, and what if there’s an emergency?”

You glance around your room. There’s a pair of scissors on your desk and, despite knowing it’s a long shot, you try to cut the web fluid holding his hands together. The only thing that happens is the scissors get stuck. Same with the pocketknife you try to use.

When you approach Peter with a stapler, he jerks away. “No! It’s pretty much unbreakable. You’re just going to get more stuff stuck in it!”

You can’t help the giggle that bursts from your lips when you see Spider-man, Queens’ very own superhero, with red cheeks and floppy curls, thwarted by his own weapon with a pair of scissors and a knife sticking out of his shapeless white cuffs.

“Great, now she’s laughing at me,” Peter groans. “Wait, can you do something for me?”

“Sure,” you say, still snickering a bit.

“Tony put my phone on the bed.” He gestures in that direction. “I’ve been hearing it go off. I don’t know if it’s Tony, or Ned, or May, or anyone else. Could you bring it to me?”

You retrieve the phone and hold it out to him. Peter holds up his webbed hands in vain, but it’s no use. No fingers are available to punch in the password.

“Just tell me it,” you sigh when he tries in vain to punch in the password with his nose.

“No!” Peter blushes furiously.

“Dude, May’s gonna be worried about you. Just tell me.” You roll your eyes. “Not that I couldn’t hack in anyway, but it would require FRIDAY and a lot more time and effort than you just telling me your password.”

“FRIDAY?” Peter asks hopefully, staring at the ceiling. Just as you’d suspected; your father either disabled the AI for your room or commanded it to not respond to their of your pleas for escape.

“Seriously,” you groan. “You do realize you can change the password right away, right?”

“It’s embarrassing,” Peter groans, which is absolutely the worst thing to say. You perk up immediately.

“What is it?”

“I’m not telling.” Peter crosses his arms and glares at the wall.

“Is it your old crush’s name? Uh... Michelle or something?”

“I never liked MJ,” Peter snaps. “She’s just my friend.”

You snort. “Uh-huh.” Quick as a flash, you snatch the phone up from where it was sitting on the bed next to his thigh. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

Peter closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I will not.”

“What’s the worst it could be?” you ask. “I promise I won’t tell Dad.”

“That’s a lie.”

“You got me there. If it’s something about My Little Pony or Dora the Explorer I’d have to tell him right away. You know me too well.”

“It’s not My Little Pony or Dora the Explorer!” Peter exclaims.

“Well, unless you tell me what it really is,” you tease, “I’m going to have to assume it’s one of those two categories. Want me to guess My Little Pony names until your phone locks you out forever?”

Peter groans and flops onto the bed. “I’m never going to live this down.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say primly. “I’d never dream of teasing you, Pete.”

Peter mumbles something.

“What?”

“IsaidmypasswordisY/NParkernospaces” he rushes out.

“What?”

“I said,” Peter gets out through gritted teeth, “my password is Y/NParker, no spaces.”

There’s a long pause of silence and Peter chances opening his eyes to look at your reaction. You’re staring at him evenly, the phone in your lap forgotten. “Why is that your password?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Peter pleads weakly. “I’m never going to be able to live this down anyway.”

“Peter. Why is that your password?”

“Because I like you!” he bursts out, his tone a lot louder than he’d intended it to be. “Duh, Y/N. Like you said, I’m sorta bad at hiding stuff. Even your dad knows. It’s why he locked me in here.”

“What?” You unlock the phone quickly and check the texts. There’s two from May asking why Peter’s not home yet, one from Ned about a homework assignment, and three from Tony.

Tony Stark: You’re going to read this either when those webs dissolve or when Y/N unlocks your phone, which means she’s going to discover your password and your crush on her

Tony Stark: If so, hi, Y/N! Love you! Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you but I had to play matchmaker for some oblivious teens

Tony Stark: Go get ‘em, tiger ;). You’re not leaving the room until you do. But no funny business!

“This is so embarrassing,” you and Peter groan at the same time. You exchange startled glances.

“What do you have to be embarrassed about?” Peter asks. You show him the screen of his phone.

“My stupid meddling father,” you glower, quite sure that he’s listening to your conversation now.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighs.

“What are you sorry for?” You frown.

“For telling you how I felt. I know your dad thinks you like me back, but it’s totally fine if you don’t. We can stay friends. Or if you don’t even want to be friends, I guess that’s all right. It’d be awkward because I come to the tower so much to work with your dad but I’m sure we can work something out. Besides, you visit the cabin so much—oomph.”

He grunts with surprise when you lean forward and press your lips against his. For a moment you think he’s going to try to keep talking even while kissing, but then he sighs against your lips and his webbed hands go to your stomach. He groans with frustration. “This sucks,” he groans, breaking the kiss. “I can’t touch you at all. I can’t even feel you through the webs. And—oh my God, I could have stabbed you!” He leaps to his feet, looking at his webbed hands and the weapons sticking out of the mess with horror.

You double over with laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” Peter whines. “You could have been seriously hurt! Your dad woulda killed me! Do you have any idea—”

You stand and, avoiding the weapons, press your lips against his again. It seems to be an effective way to stop the rambling and keep his mind on one track. More or less.

“I bet the door’s unlocked now,” Peter mumbles against your mouth, breaking the kiss again, and you growl with frustration.

“Peter, shut up and kiss me.”

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey

Let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist!

#peter parker #Peter Benjamin Parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #reader x peter parker #you x peter parker #stark!reader #tony stark #morgan stark

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you-andthebottlemen · 5 years

Text

61 - Glasgow song fic

Hi everyone!! I know the catfish fic scene here is kind of dead but this is for those of you still out there. A short but sweet fic for a short but sweet song! I hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading (and waiting for me to finally post and fill this request!!) E x

Based on the requests:

could you maybe do a fan fictions based around the song Glasgow? I love your writing! x

from @smotherme-inlippy

Cheating on your boyfriend with Van?

for anonymous.

(Fun fact: I’ve actually been to Sauchiehall Street and went there for a night out! And I totally didn’t imagine that I was going all the same places Van had been....)

************************************************************************

You knew you shouldn’t be seeing Van, but you just couldn’t help yourself. There had always been something so magnetic about him. You’d slept together a few times and had a bit of a reputation as a pair. Though despite your nights together, there were never any real feelings. Maybe that’s what drew you to him the most? You could be yourself and not be burdened by the responsibilities, expectations and everything else ‘being in love’ entailed. You could go months without seeing him or talking but always have things fall right back into place. There was no stress or drama or pressure with him like there was with everyone else. You needed fun and chaos and there was no one better for that than Van McCann.

“What time do ya’ call this, y/n?!” Van joked as you slid onto the stool beside him, his face lit up with happiness.

His hair was longer than when you last saw him. The ends flicked up under his ears as if they were desperate to grow into a proper curl.

“Fashionably late,” you winked.

Van just chuckled and ordered you a drink as he had already started.

The bar was lively as always, packed with every type of person you could imagine. It was dimly lit with the walls covered in posters and neon signs, old rock music pulsating all around you. It was your favourite bar on all of Sauchiehall Street. And you’d tried them all to be sure. You loved when Van was touring in Scotland or just had time off to come see you and traipse your way down the strip of bars.

Just as you placed your phone and bag down on the table, a text flashed from Alex; your boyfriend. Kind of boyfriend. It wasn’t something serious with him, but serious enough that you knew you shouldn’t be drinking alone with Van. Though one glance up into his blue eyes swimming with excitement, was all you needed and you put your phone away. You didn’t want to think about Alex tonight, his clinginess suffocated you and his sickly sweetness turned you off.

You and Van caught up on life since you’d last seen each other. He told you about the band and what countries they’d visited as well as all plans for the next album; the usual. As much as you wanted to make fun of him for always going on about Catfish, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. You loved how proud he was of it all.

He asked about you too, so you told him about Alex. Van’s expression remained the same, so you weren’t able to tell if he was disappointed or relieved that you were seeing someone. You also weren’t sure you should have brought it up.

“Have you been seeing anyone?” you asked Van curiously.

“There was one girl for a little while…but it didn’t work and I didn’t really try to be honest. So, no. Single as a flamingo,” he replied, trying hard to rhyme the last part and looking far too pleased with himself.

“What? Single as a…flamingo?” you laughed, raising one eyebrow.

“Somethin’ Bond said,” Van shrugged and you shook your head in amusement.

Soon the conversation fell on how Alex was endlessly worried about Van; to the point he would scroll through your phone while you were in the shower trying to find evidence of betrayal. It bothered him how people would always ask you where Van was, how close you looked in photos or how all your best stories featured Van somewhere in the plot. It was toxic and you knew it, but you didn’t have the energy to fight or leave; Alex was just something to fill the time and fill the space in your bed. He was alright and it wasn’t like you were in love with him anyway.

“You gotta break up with him y/n, can’t be with someone who don’t trust ya.”

Not letting slip that you hadn’t told Alex you were here and that he had every reason not to trust you, you just groaned and gulped down your second drink.

“Let’s get shots!” you decided, breaking the awkward silence.

You and Van counted down each time you took a shot, always laughing at each other’s twisted facial expressions from the taste of the liquor and the inevitable throat burn. Van’s proper smile, the one he always tried to hide, all wonky teeth and smile lines made you smile even wider.

“I’m glad that you’re home,” you admitted.

You forgot for a moment that this wasn’t Van’s home, but that’s not really what you meant anyway. You meant you were glad he was back here with you.

“Getting’ sappy are we y/n?” he teased.

You play elbowed him then with a laugh, Van stood and held his hand out to you.

“Wanna dance?”

You grinned and nodded then let him twirl you over to the makeshift dancefloor. Standing upright made you realise just how drunk you were. The room was spinning, time was moving fast yet slow and you were convinced it was only you and Van left in the whole wide world and that was completely okay with you.

The music wasn’t the best rhythm for dancing to but that didn’t stop you. Van wiggled his hips out of beat and waved his arms around, making you giggle and try to move along with his timing. Soon your hands found the front of his soft velvet jacket. You ran your fingers over the fabric and pulled gently. Van’s hands moved to your waist and you shut your eyes.

It felt like when you opened your eyes again, you were sat back on the bar stool beside Van, singing a loud and drunken duet to no one in particular. You couldn’t remember where time had gone or what had happened in between the dancing and now. A sign of too much alcohol, though you didn’t stop to worry.

You stopped singing and glanced over at Van who was belting out words and had his arms lifted up into the air. You burst out laughing, realising that the bar was in fact empty except for the few staff members cleaning up. They’d locked up but let you stay, probably thoroughly entertained. This was not the first time it had happened either and you had a suspicion that they must have known who Van was.

Once you had downed some water, said your thanks and goodbyes, you pulled Van out the door and into the night down Sauchiehall Street. He draped his jacket over you and slung an arm around your shoulders. You wriggled your arms into the jacket, grateful for the warmth and shoved your hands into the pockets, shielding them from the cold.

The usually loud and bustling street filled with clubs and bars and takeaway shops was now eerily quiet. Quiet except for Van’s slurred singing and the clacks of your shoes on the concrete.

You stopped walking and took off your heels with a small yelp as your bare feet touched the cold ground.

“Here…” Van mumbled and picked you up bridal style with a bit of a groan.

“Getting old,” you teased and clung to his neck, your shoes in your hand hanging over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna be the coolest old man,” Van smiled, unafraid of ageing like most people you knew.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Gonna do music til I’m well old like my Grandad and all my grandkids are gonna be dead excited to come visit me all the time,” he replied, looking out into the night.

You laughed to yourself and rested your head against him.

Halfway up Sauchiehall Street, you told Van to put you down and have a break. He leant against a wall and had a smoke while you talked to him about anything and everything. You sat down cross legged on the pavement with your back against the bricks by his feet. When Van was finished smoking, he collapsed down beside you looking a little cold and worse for wear. You tried to give him back his jacket but he wouldn’t take it. Instead, he folded over and rested his head in your lap. You stroked his hair and kept talking.

“I love this,” you said, referring to your drunken nights with Van talking shit and being ridiculous.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with Glasgow,” Van replied dreamily.

Though what he really meant was that he’d fallen in love with you.

“Why?” you asked, naïve or rather willingly oblivious, to Van’s hidden admission.

“It’s beautiful and it’s fun and nowhere else is as good. I keep looking for better and I can’t find it.”

“But you’ve been all over the world?”

“Exactly.”

After a long silence, Van tried to sit up, his head clearly spinning. You took some of his weight and propped him up straight against the wall. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“Y/n…” he said with a strange tone that made your heart lurch, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Van’s eyes met yours.

“No, you’re not Van,” you sighed.

“I am y/n. I can’t get you out of my head, you’re all I think about,” he pushed, reaching out to take your hands.

You folded your arms to your chest.

“Don’t say that Van, don’t ruin this.”

“What? Ruin what?”

“Everything! Our friendship, our fun…we can hang out and forget everything else and just be us. I don’t want it to become complicated and weird,” you tried to explain, a little exasperated.

“It won’t ruin things,” Van replied.

You shut your eyes and groaned, pissed off. Why did he have to do this? You didn’t know what to say so you stood, put your shoes back on and took off Van’s jacket then threw it in his lap. He looked a little taken aback but said nothing.

“Let’s just go home. I’m too drunk to talk about this.”

You didn’t want to hurt him any more than you probably had, and you didn’t want to have a conversation that required thought when you were likely to not remember it tomorrow. You weren’t in love with Van. Part of you wished you were just to be able to make him feel better. Another part wished it because you knew you’d never find a better man. But you couldn’t make yourself feel it and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

Van walked by your side all the way back to your little house, both of you silent except for the sounds of Van’s lighter and deep breaths puffing on another cigarette.

By the time you arrived home, your frustration at Van had disappeared. You opened the gate careful not to make too much noise and unlocked the door just as quietly. Before you could step inside, Van reached out and stopped you.

“I’m sorry y/n,” Van said quietly.

“You don’t need to be sorry Van. I’m just…I guess I’m sorry too. I wish I could feel what you want me to.”

Van shook his head and pulled you into him. He held you tight and rocked side to side.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I know what we have together, and I should have thought about it. Guess I was just really drunk.”

What Van said didn’t really sit right with you, though you decided to keep your mouth shut.

When you pulled away from Van’s grip, you looked into his face. Maybe it was the alcohol still floating around in your system, maybe it wasn’t, but you thought he looked kind of beautiful. For a moment, you were both still and just staring at one another. You knew then exactly how this was going to go.

Van’s lips crashed into yours with force and you melted under his touch. You let him scoop you up in his arms once again and carry you through the front door, kicking it shut behind him.

Once in the bedroom he placed you down and you threw off your shoes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him.

“I shouldn’t do this,” Van breathed into your neck.

You knew that Van, while being one for fun and promiscuity, wasn’t a homewrecker and still had strong morals. He was probably thinking about Alex, or the feelings he had for you, knowing that both of those would only cause you both more pain when the sun came up. You pushed those thoughts out of your mind too; you would work all that out tomorrow.

You kissed him again, showing him that you didn’t mind, that you wanted him. You could feel how much he wanted you too.

His hands reached under your top and pulled it off over your head. You undid his belt and trousers. Each action exciting you more until there was nothing left to take off. Van stopped for a moment and brushed some hair out of your face.

“You have me wrapped right round your finger, don’t you?” he chuckled, his voice breathy and rasping.

You weren’t sure what to respond with so began to kiss his neck. You ran your hands up and down his body and all thoughts of anything except the here and now, escaped your mind.

#catfish #catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen #van mccann #van #vanfic #van mccann fan fiction #van mccann fanfiction #catfish and the bottlemen fanfiction

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mellowgirl01 · 6 years

Text

Sweet Wine

masterlist

Wordcount: 2290

Characters 11463

people:Eve x Y/N x Adam

Made for: @ladyfluff

Tags: @ladyfluff, @may-bereblog

Request:No

song:Bahamas is Afie; All i’ve ever known & Cigarettes After Sex; Crush

Date:2/12/19

Summary:The first moves have been made, The fresh skin had been touched, a romantic dance

and all. What happens now when the music stops and there’s only three?…or is there?

Warning:Things get a little sexual but nothing heavy…yet ;)

A/N: This is part 2 everyone Hope you like it. Couldn’t get much sleep last night so if it’s a little wonky and or bad let me know. Thanks and enjoy.

Now in the bath Y/N got done washing with the help of Eve. Well, some parts she did herself in fear of getting the room a little to hot. Eve understood. Once done Eve helped her rinse off. JUst another silly excuse for touching her all over. How the water slid down her body was better art than anything. Y/N sat back down in and wrapped her arms around Eve’s waist laying her head on the crook of her neck as Eve ran a hand down Y/N’s head and hair. Racking her slim fingers in her hair. Kissing the top of her head ever so often as well. The bathtub was huge! Big enough for 4 people probably to be in. So the two girls had more than enough leg room.

“Eve..What about Adam? What happens when he finds out that were like this?”

Eve chuckled laying her head on top of Y/N’s

“Why do you ask such a question? Are you afraid that he will hate you?”

“Well, you are his wife. I’m but a stranger who seducid you.”

Eve laughed this time

“Seducing is one thing. And you did nothing of the sort because you aren't a stranger. If you were a stranger then we would also be strangers to you.”

“Well your not. But you and Adam have history. You both have been together for way more then I have.”

“Yes, while that is ture you need to know that with that history..I know my husband. So trust me Y/N if I love you, So does he. That’s not just because he wants me to be happy now that I have found such a beautiful woman. But because he loves you too. Adam sees what I can’t see sometimes. What he sees in you is something soo so special that it completely wrens the word special.”

“Why?”

“Here's A better question..Y/N, do you feel love equally with me and Adam?”

Y/N took time to think about the answer that she was about to say. As she did she sat up from Eve’s embrace and looked at her once more in the eyes.

“..Yes..I don’t know how or when I did but I think it was when I first noticed that you guys kept coming back after the first month. It really warmed my heart that you only wanted me..Slowly I started to fantasies things. Then, I wondered what it would be like to be with you, both of you that is. I called myself selfish and stupid.”

“Do you feel that way now? Do you really think that after all this time and now, that adam could shove you away so easily?”

“..My heart says no, so does my soul. My brain is screaming for them both to be right. I never wanna hurt him.”

“Neither would he.”

Y/N knew what she meant by her statement. When the water got cold they got out and dried off. Stepping into the bedroom the saw some clothes Adam Laid out. Meaning he heard the conversation that Eve and Y/N had. Eve smilled at her and sat down on the bed getting dressed. Down stair she led Y/N to Adam’s recording studio so that she could listen to his music or at least a snippet. Y/N’s eye widened as the words to a cover song rang softly though the entire room. There was padding all over the walls making it sound proof. Adam made it so that Eve would be able to read and he could be as loud as he wanted to be.

“I know your not a ghost just down the street. I am a spinning man, A living ceiling fan. If two could only hang. The same once again. Now my memories seem to be failing me, What once was fantasy; was all i’ve ever know ~”

So sad was the song. What was even more pitiful was how Adam sang the song. It sound personal to him. As if he could relate to it in every single way.

‘Just what is on in that beautiful head of yours my Adam?’

Y/N decided to sit behind him and just listen. Eve never thought of the idea seeing as how he might have wanted his space when it came to his music and what not. On he continued with the song until he strummed the last cord. He pressed stop on the computer in front of him and was about to press play to see how it sound with everything until Y/N and Eve started clapping.

“Adam that was beautiful!! You said you had albums right?! Can you let me borrow one if it’s not too much? I can give it back!”

Adam was stunned at her excitement. He didn’t think he was bad just not as great as she hyped him up to be. He felt a zillion butterflies going up and down in his stomach nonetheless. Her sweet bright eyes laid upon him with such wonder and hope. LIfe and love.

“I’ll do you a better one. I’ll let you have them all if you want. I only really have 3.”

He had 12 full ones

Y/N leaped up and hugged him tight.

“THANK YOU ADAM!!!!”

‘Why must she make me putty in her hands. With anyone else I wouldn’t be such a sucker for. But she? She’s and Eve could turn me into a weakling. And I wouldn't change it for shit.’

“Why don’t you play a song for our lovely guest star man?”

“What would you like to hear?”

“Oh no no, that’s quite alright-”

“What would you like? Little one i don’t take no for an answer.” Adam held Y/N by the waist closing there space apart from each other tremendously.

“Well..can you play crush, by cigarettes after sex?”

“As long as you dance for me and I get something after as well. Then no problem little dove.”

As he strummed the strings of the guitar Eve went upstairs to get the camera. Adam tried to prolong the song just to see his little zombie dance a bit more. Her baggy short poofed up looking like a weird shaped dress. She was smiling with her eyes closed and her hands raised to the sky reaching higher and higher. She was like a supernova moving to every single strum of his guitar. Even when he stopped playing she was still dancing. Her hair flowed along with the movements making her angelic in every way. All the mushy things adam forgot to tell her about herself everyday. Maybe this time around he couldn’t hold back? Didn’t really see any reason to..He took her hand in his and swayed with her to nothing. As minutes passed by the room started to disappear. No longer were the walls that was covered with padding and what not. Leaning in Adam was inches from her lips. Y/N was waiting for him but noticed something in his eyes. Was he? Asking for permission? He just had this face that spelled out touch starved and in need of love. Of something to excite him and make him feel alive. Y/N laughed at the action since every man that she knew would have just taken the moment for granted. This confused and worried Adam. Did he mess up, smell bad, Look stupid? What was it?

“You are one of a kind Adam..And do i love you for that one reason every day. Now please, kiss me.”

Adam got down on one knee still holding her hands. He wrapped your arms around his neck as he did with his right arm around her waist and the left tentangeling his fingers into her sweet hair. To plant a kiss that he waited patiently for. If anyone told him that he would one day be able to once more taste the most juiciest blueberries and richest wine he wouldn't have believed them. If any one told Y/N that she would be tasting some sort of butter sweet and copper mixed with a hint of cotch then she would have called them insane. Yet here they were. Letting their tongues dance along each others just as they were a few minutes ago. Standing up Adam never loses his grip as her legs started to dangle from below the soft carpet. She had no clue of this being so into the kiss nore did she care. Adam got a bit egger and backed into the computer desk sitting down on the edge. Y/N entangled her fingers in Adam’s thick locks this time. Pulling him closer making the kiss a bit rough. Letting out a moan Adam slid his cold hands under her shirt. He soon found out that she didn’t have on a bra. He moaned again from this relaxation as he slowly reached forward and started to knead her breasts. Y/N moaned out in so much pleasure. His hands were hot and cold at the same time. Something strange was happening. Her skin was heating up and cooling down as pure passion flower between the two. Adam saw no need for stopping, that was until Y/N pulled away.

“I kissed Eve too..”

“...Okay..Now you’ve also kissed me too. What’s your point dove?”

Their breaths were heavy form not taking even an ounce of air while the kiss was still going.

“Your not upset?”

“Don’t you love Eve too?”

“Yes but I didn’t want you to-”

“Eve is my wife. I will always love her no matter what may come our way. You said it yourself, me and my baby have history. But Y/N when I saw you I knew that love is truly never a one way street. Complicated to understand manier times but, never vanilla. Like you, your more than just plain milk and ice with flavor. Your magnificent and unique and so much more than that. These eyes have seen many things Y/N bad and good. But Eve and you are the very best things that these old eyes have ever laid upon. I love you so much my little one. Please..won’t you say what’s on your heart too?”

Y/N was saw the tears starting to form in her eyes and she slammed her lips against Adam’s. He let out a small yelp but chuckled in the kiss melting anyways. Pulling away from him she rested her head onto of his chest wrapping her legs around his torso.

“I would scream from the fucking mountain tops how much I loved you and Eve Adam..You're the best things to happen to me too.”

“We know.”

Eve stood against the doorway with a black camera in her hands. Laughing she cocked her head to one of the windows. Blue light was slowly coming through the room. Morning would be soon.

“TIme for bed.”

“Cruel.”

“You can say that again sleepy head. Now come.”

She whispered walking up to the bedroom. Adam laughed. Not letting Y/N’s feet unhook from behind his back as he walked up the stairs with her clinging to him like a little koala. Eve snatched her from his grip spinning her around until the back of her legs hit the bed. She yelled at Eve through her laughter sitting up on top of Eve she turned to stare at her. Eve’s hair sprawled all out on the black silt under her. Unable to help but bend down and kiss her. Looking up though she sees Adam start to undress and she’s hooked to the scene. Eve looked up and giggled covering her mouth from how cute her lovers were to each other. Y/N got off of Eve to lay down next to her. Her back was up against Eve’s chest feeling her fingers softly rub her back. Humming in relaxation Y/N opened her eyes to see Adam without any clothes on but only his boxers. Stretching her hand out to him and scrunching her fingers every now and then to signar her need for him

“Adam~, come on.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I never did silly. Now come, it’s cold here without you.”

Adam couldn’t say no and let his bones relax as he scooted closer and closer to her girls. Y/N was always in the middle. So if anything happened while asleep they would be ready. Adam took the door side while Eve was by the windows.

Speaking of Eve it seems she was the last one to fall asleep before closing a little tiny peak of light that was coming in through the curtains. Not on her watch was her little family gonna get destered or harmed while in such a peaceful state. Climbing back into bed she felt Y/N’s back snuggle back into her chest. One of her legs wrapped around Eve’s while the others was with Adam.

Everything was peaceful and quiet until a crash could be heard downstairs. Y/N jumped up and saw that Eve and Adam were no longer in bed. Almost ready to jump out of bed and go confront whatever was happening. To be stopped by a yell and stomping foot steps up the stairs.

“AVA DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TOUCH HER!”

The door swung open as Y/N hid under the covers.

“Hello there little snack~..I’m Ava..Your name is?”

#olla #ollaadam #ollaeve #tilda swinton #tom hiddleston #eve x reader x adam #adam x reader #eve x reader #long reads #romantic #romantic fantasy #romance #only lovers left alive #love

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thewhiskingpot · 6 years

Text

for good, and for bad

💜 bangtan (bts)

💜 hoseok (bts) x reader

💜 oneshot

💜 hoseok finds you in the middle of a depressive episode

💜 depression; self-esteem issues; slice of life; hurt/comfort; lots of metaphors; angst with a happy ending

💜 a/n: many hugs to my beta for the invaluable input in polishing this piece. to my readers, don’t worry, the angst is really not that bad. lastly, the format is wonky on mobile so please read this on desktop if possible.

You didn’t plan for it to happen this way. In fact, you didn’t plan this at all.

Hoseok was supposed to be away for a three-day dance camp, but there he was, real as can be, anxiously shaking you from the stupor that your episode had locked you in. The very same one that had you feeling spent from all that sobbing and gasping for air. Depression was a total bitch.

You never meant for him to catch you at your lowest. You made it a point to hide away whenever your episodes struck. It was easy even with the shared apartment, for Hoseok led a very busy social life. But somehow, you always seem to fuck up no matter how hard you try. You could never win.

As you watched Hoseok tenderly wipe your tear-stained blotchy cheeks and runny nose, something in you finally snapped. Even with you looking like a complete trainwreck, there was nothing but love and concern spilling out from him. Enough is enough. It was time to set the poor man free. He deserved so much more, and so much better than broken goods.

“Hobi, we need to break up,” you said, willing your voice to remain steady. “I’m breaking up with you.”

Hoseok stilled at once, his expression changing from concern to confusion to shock. “W-what?”

There was no way you were going to repeat that. Saying it twice would be akin to pouring salt on your gaping wound. You tried to shove him away, but Hoseok would not budge.

“What’s wrong? Why are you doing this?”

“We just got to. I’m your worst mistake, Hobi. You’ll come to your senses soon. You deserve better.”

“Don’t say that. You’re the best thing that happened to me, love.”

You scoffed. Best? Hoseok clearly hasn’t gotten his head around this whole thing. You were sitting in the bathtub with antidepressants spilled all over the bathroom floor, for Pete’s sake.

“Talk to me. Let me in. Please,” Hoseok pleaded, his sincerity bleeding through your fast crumbling wall.

You knew it would come to this. The moment Hoseok found you in this state, it was the end of it all. He’d ask, and you’d answer. You could never deny him of anything. He was your kryptonite.

“Fine. You want the truth? I feel fucked, 24/7. From bone to skin, mind to soul. There’s a howling storm within me that refuses to quieten down. It pulls me in every direction. It drowns me with relentless waves of hopelessness. It draws a dark veil over my sight. Everything is hazy around me. Despair is what they call it. This wretched feeling permeates every cell of my being, and I’m so tired of keeping up this front,” you spat out bitterly.

You didn’t have to look up to know Hoseok was crying. The man was an open book to you, his willingness to lay his soul bare for you always apparent, and you could sense his distress a mile away.

“You know, for the longest time before you, I was floating from one day to another. Life had no meaning other than to survive in flesh. To maintain the facade of a functional being. Everyday was a suffocating misery, but I’d become so desensitized that I grew to accept this was just how life was. And then, you happened.”

You smiled weakly, the fond memory of the first time you met Hoseok clear and vivid despite your troubled mind. He had chosen to crash his bike by swerving into a bush to avoid hitting you. The rest was history.

“You with your sunshine personality, you with your addictive warmth, you with your stupid million-dollar smile. For the first time in years, I felt hope. Being in your presence made me delusional, to think that I stood a chance to become whole again, to think that maybe, just maybe, a person shrouded in darkness like me could ever build a future with you. Thinking back now, I was simply turning my eyes away from the truth. The moon merely borrows light off the sun; it can never truly shine. Jimin once said we’re a perfect match, because opposites attract. But that can’t be right. We’re parallels in different directions, never meant to cross paths.”

You took a shaky breath. Now that you were on a roll, you found yourself unable to stop. It was liberating even, to finally confess it all. Breaking up with the love of your life sucked big time, but it had to be done. Hoseok deserved so much better.

“All you do is give, and all I do is take. I’m afraid, Hobi. Afraid that one day you’ll lose that glow, that I’ll inevitably drag you down to hell with me. I don’t want to wake up to find a zombie staring back at me. You deserve a whole person, not someone broken and jagged.”

You could see Hoseok struggling to digest and comprehend the bomb you just threw in his face. He was always easy to read.

Hoseok’s next few words came out as a faint whisper, but the harshness of his tone made you flinch in surprise. “How dare you? How fucking dare you?”

In the entirety of your relationship, Hoseok had never once swore at you. Caught off guard, you could only stare.

“You’re not me. You don’t get to decide what I want or don’t want,” Hoseok said, his voice raw and emotional. “You put me on a pedestal like I can do no wrong, but drag yourself through the mud. You don’t see how much you mean to me, how much joy and love and security you bring just by being mine. You’re so blinded to the fact that you’re priceless. I’m sad that you think so little of yourself. I’m ashamed it took me so long to realize you were in pain. I’m angry that you think so little of me.”

Hoseok reached out to cup your cheek, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. You were so fucking gone for him.

“Broken or not, you are perfect to me. I want you, and only you. Do you understand?”

Tears instantly sprang to your eyes. That was the most beautiful thing anyone had said to you. To want you, and only you. But that also made your point even more salient. Hoseok deserved better. So much better. You had to stand your ground. Not trusting yourself to speak just yet, you turned away from him in petulance.

Hoseok shook his head knowingly. “You can sulk all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that your reason for wanting to break up is stupid. I’m not accepting that. I am, however, calling for a time-out. We’re both angry, and it’ll do us good to be away from each other.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, heart accelerating in anxiety despite yourself.

“Just for a bit, love. Like thirty minutes. I’ll be back soon,” Hoseok explained. “Promise me you’ll do nothing to harm yourself in the meantime?”

You weren’t even thinking about doing anything, to be honest. You just wanted to sit here and wallow in the sad prospect of your almost-breakup. But you were feeling rebellious, so you kept your mouth shut.

Unfortunately, Hoseok was not backing down. “Love, do you promise?”

You glared, but obediently nodded once.

Why can’t you ever say no to this man?

Oh right, because you were utterly in love with him.

Hoseok seemed to have knocked you right out of your funk. You weren’t sure how much time had lapsed since he left you sitting there, but you reckoned it was enough to warrant a search. The silence was telling. Hoseok must’ve left to god knows where. With a sigh, you picked yourself up. A quick check around the apartment confirmed your theory, and your worry increased tenfold. You wanted to give him space, to think about what just transpired, but you were pretty sure Hoseok left the house without an umbrella. Not that it would do much to combat the storm outside. But still. Better one than none.

With newfound determination, you grabbed an umbrella from the supply closet and ran out the door to chase him down. He shouldn’t have left. If anything, you were the one who should leave. Out of the apartment, out of his life. He deserved so much better. Caught up in your misery, you almost missed the blurry figure in your peripheral vision until you realized it was a familiar one. Doubling back, your jaw dropped in disbelief as you took in the sight before you.

Right there in the middle of the open field, Hoseok stood with his head thrown back as the rain pelted down hard. Even from a distance, he was visibly shivering in the cold. Flinching with every roar of the thunder. Muscles tensed in apprehension. But still, he persisted.

What in the name of all things unholy was he doing?

When your brain finally caught up, you found yourself already pulling Hoseok away by the wrist. All the way home, you simmered in your anger. Somewhere between the field and the apartment, Hoseok managed to interlock his fingers with yours, holding you tight in his grasp. You ignored that, though tears pricked your eyes.

After what seemed like forever, you finally barreled through the door with Hoseok in tow. Kicking it shut, you let your anger bubble over at last.

“Jung Hoseok, you could’ve died out there!” you yelled, yanking a towel and a set of clothes from the drying rack before stomping back to your very drenched boyfriend. Manhandling him out of his wet hoodie and jeans, you started to towel him dry, all while muttering curses at his stupidity.

Hoseok was compliant, but you could sense his attention was elsewhere. He kept his silence while you fussed over him, not even stealing a single glance in your direction.

Was he still mad? That didn’t seem like it. Hoseok rarely got angry with you, and even if the current situation called for it, you were confident you were already forgiven. Just like he was your soft spot, so were you to him.

No, it was more like he was brooding. Which made you eyed him warily. A brooding Hoseok was never a good sign.

After a prolonged pause, Hoseok spoke up. “At first, I was just mad, so I left. I needed to cool down.”

“And standing in the middle of a thunderstorm was your solution?” you injected in bewilderment, making him sit so you could drape the towel over his head to work on his hair.

Men and their ridiculous antics.

Ignoring your question, Hoseok continued. “Then I remembered you said there was a storm inside you. So I thought I’d give it a try. I mean, it’s not exactly the same, but that’s a pretty nasty storm out there.”

Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you took a deep breath and enunciated every word clearly. It was important that he understood this. “That. Was. A. Metaphor. Do you not understand the concept of metaphors? Were you not taught that? In all sixteen years of formal education?”

“I know what you’re trying to do. I’m not letting you act out the stupid noble K-drama trope. Not now, not ever. I’m here to stay for good, and for bad,” Hoseok cut off your mindless rant, challenge apparent in his eyes. “I won’t push you to open up any further if you don’t want to. But I’ll find my own ways to reach you, to understand your pain better. My methods might be stupid, but I’ll keep trying until I get it right. You can’t stop me from loving you.”

That was it.

Jung Hoseok was your undoing.

How could you even deny him anymore after that? Nothing could top it. You never realized the extent of his feelings for you ran this deep. For the longest time, one of your worst fears was that Hoseok would take off the second he found out about your depression. But he obliterated that fear tonight. I’m here to stay for good, and for bad. You can’t stop me from loving you. God, you were totally going to ink those words into you permanently. Namjoon was right; honest communication really could open up one’s eyes.

“Hobi, honestly, what do you expect me to say? No?” you mumbled reluctantly, the fight in you extinguished. “Do as you wish then. But let me just say, you don’t get to blame me if you end up needing therapy for dealing with my shit.”

Rubbing his face into your stomach, Hoseok inhaled your scent. “This is not a blaming game, love. And I’m already seeing a therapist. Mental health is important.”

You froze. That was new information.

“Stop overthinking,” Hoseok ordered as he tightened his hold around your waist. “It’s just an outlet for stress management.”

Well then. Enough angst for today. That would certainly be a conversation for another day.

“I was just thinking, I’m pretty sure I didn’t agree to a polyamorous or open relationship, mister. But I can if the good doctor is hot. How hot we talkin’? Seriously, a doctor on the side? How did you even manage that?”

Chuckling, Hoseok said, “I am so in love with you, my spiritual soulmate.”

“Yoongi’s gonna be upset you said that.”

“He won’t, if you don’t tell.”

“Hobi, I’m serious about-”

“Hi Serious, I’m Hobi.”

“Dad jokes again? You’re spending too much time with Jin.”

“I’m telling Jin.”

“Whatever. You’re so fucking extra. I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

#bts fics #bts scenarios #bts angst #hoseok angst #hoseok comfort #angst with a happy ending #for good and for bad #cross-posted on ao3 #thewhiskingpot

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lovelylunarwriting · 6 years

Text

Slytherin!Jeonghan x Ravenclaw!Reader

Jeonghan has managed to score the highest on every test so far in the Muggle Studies class you happen to share with him, and you have absolutely no idea how.

All he does in class is sleep at his desk, blanket cape and all.

Like yes, it’s an early class but at least try?? please.

That’s the thing though- he doesn’t try at all but he still aces every assessment, which makes you equally curious and livid.

No matter how confident you are in the material, Jeonghan always manages to score just a little better.

Something seems sketchy about a guy who never pays attention but gets A’s on every test, so you confide in your friends your frustrations with the situation.

You: “So what do you guys think?”

Mingyu: “Umm….”

Vernon: “Maybe he’s-”

Seungkwan: “Oh Jeonghan is SO cheating”

Mingyu: “He can’t cheat if he’s not in a relationship, man”

Seungkwan: “No- he’s not cheat on someone, he’s cheating on the tests”

Vernon: “That’s cheating yourself if you really think about it”

Mingyu: “How?? Exactly?”

Vernon: “He’s cheating himself out of the power of knowledge”

Seungkwan: “...philosophical ramblings aside- Y/N, you have to catch him in the act”

You: “Me?? Why me?”

Mingyu: “Well you’re the only one this is really bothering. The rest of us couldn’t care less what he does, to be honest”

You: “Thank you Mingyu for your ever apparent tactfulness”

Seungkwan: “I’ll help you if you want! We just need a plan”

Vernon: “Cast a spell on the papers”

You: “You want me to what”

Vernon: “Cast a spell on the tests that will reveal that he’s cheating”

You: “If he’s cheating”

Vernon: “Same difference. There’s gotta be a spell for something like that, right?”

You: “I’m sure there is… I’ll go hit the books”

Mingyu: “What did the books ever do to you?!”, he says jokingly.

Vernon: “...that was lame, even for you”

On that note, you leave the boys and make your way over to the library in search of a suitable spell.

You stroll on in and wave to Madam Pince, the head librarian, who smiles and waves back.

To most people, she’s a devil of a woman, but she likes you because you’re never too loud and always open to learning something new.

Weaving your way through each aisle, you slip book after book into the crook of your arm.

Deciding that seven thick volumes of spell casting books is a good enough start, you set the books on an empty table, plop yourself down on the cushy chair, and dive straight in.

A couple of pages into the first book and it’s clear that the spells are way too harsh. The goal is to catch him cheating, not light his hair on fire every time he winks.

The next one is spells for household cleaning. Handy, but ultimately not the task at hand.

The third book has just the right spell, a text-transfer spell. It’s applicable to many different situations, and should be the perfect fit for catching cheaters.

How the spell works is you cast it on a surface, and when the object you say during the spell comes into contact with the surface, it will transfer the message you traced with your wand onto the surface onto whoever is in contact with the object that came into contact with the surface.

So basically, if Jeonghan is using an auto-answer quill (the object) to do his test (the surface), the message you trace onto the test paper in advance will mark him as cheating.

Or at least, that’s the hope. Spells can come out wonky sometimes, regardless of how well you prepare in casting them.

The next day, you share your plan with the newly-learned spell to your friends to see if they think it’ll work.

Vernon: “I always knew you were the smart one, but damn”

Mingyu: “It’s been literally a day and you already have a master plan”

Seungkwan: “I wouldn’t say master plan, but it is a good place to start. How are you going to cast the spell on every single test before the professor passes them out?”

You: “That,,,,,, is a great question”

Vernon: “I can get you into the classroom the night before”

You: “How exactly??”

Vernon: “I just can- trust me on this. When is the next test?”

You: “Tomorrow morning”

Vernon: “Okay, then meet me outside the Muggle Studies classroom tonight at 7 and I’ll get you in”

You: “...that seems sketchy but I really don’t have any other options, do I”

Seungkwan: “We could get Minghao to kick down the door?”

You: “Yeah, because that’s real inconspicuous. I’ll stick with Vernon on this one”

Later that night, you linger outside the Muggle Studies classroom fives minutes before seven.

Just because you’re breaking into a locked classroom to alter tests doesn’t mean that you’re careless enough to not be punctual.

Vernon meanders on over a quarter past seven. What is it with Gryffindors and being late for everything…

Before you can finish that thought, Vernon pulls a massive ring of keys out of his hoodie pocket.

You: “How??”

Vernon: “I’m friends with the custodian, Frank. He lent me his keys”

You: “He just,,,, gave them to you? What did you tell him you were going to use them for?”

Vernon: “I told him about your plan and the whole Jeonghan situation, and Frank also says that he thinks Jeonghan is probably cheating one way or another”

You: “Wait- you told him you were going to use them to get into this locked classroom and he willingly gave you the keys??”

Vernon: “Yes. What is so difficult for you about that?”

You: “All of it. But we’re on a time crunch here, so let’s get to work”

After eleven unsuccessful attempts at opening the door, Vernon finally finds the right key and makes his way into the class, you following shortly after.

The two of you easily spot the stack of tests on the professor’s desk and get to work, with you casting spells on every test and Vernon standing guard at the door.

A very tedious and repetitive hour later, the tests have all been tampered with and carefully placed back onto the professor’s desk.

Sneaking out of the classroom and locking the door behind you, Vernon lets you know he’s going to give the keys back to Frank and then head to the Gryffindor commons if you need him for anything else.

Making the long trip back to the Ravenclaw commons, you let your mind wonder about why Jeonghan potentially cheating bothers you so much.

1.) Because it’s obviously immoral. Duh.

2.) Because he just,,,, seems like a guy that already has it all without putting in much effort. He’s gorgeous, has lots of friends, and people practically trip over themselves just to please him. Would it really kill him to study? To try at all?

Night and morning pass agonizingly slowly, due to the never ending worrying of getting caught messing with the tests.

Timidly making your way into the class, you take a seat, and almost immediately a test if placed in front of you.

You pick up the sheet of paper, scanning the front and then flipping it to the back to make sure nothing you traced with your wand made any type of visible mark.

“Y/N, you were given permission to begin yet. Please put your test back down”, the professor scolds and you mumble an apology, setting down the paper.

Just then, Jeonghan struts into the classroom, seemingly stopping by every line of desks to say hello to someone, and then finally going to his seat.

“Uhg, just a few more minutes and he'll get what's coming to him”, you try to calm yourself down.

But then doubt begins to settle in, like “what if he's not cheating at all?” and “Am I just being obsessive about this for no reason?”

Only one way to find out, you figure.

The test begins and to be honest, you’re more nervous about Jeonghan than you are about the actual content of the assessment.

You breeze through it and walk up to the professor to turn your test in.

On your way back to your seat, you sneak a glance at Jeonghan who doesn’t appear to be marked at all.

That is until he runs his hand through his bangs, revealing the eloquently phrased “cheater cheater pumpkin eaten” scrawled across his forehead in your distinct handwriting.

Slapping your hand over your mouth to keep from audibly laughing, you take a seat and try not to break into a fit of giggles while everyone else completes the test.

There’s a problem, though. When Jeonghan turns in his test to the professor, they don’t see what’s on his forehead because his hair is in the way.

Determined to get him to stop cheating, once the last person turns in their test and the professor dismisses the class, you catch up to Jeonghan on his way out the door.

You: “Jeonghan!”

Jeonghan: “Hmm? Can I help you?”

You: “Are you going to cheat on every test?”

Jeonghan: “Whatever do you mean?”, he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You: “Don’t play dumb, I know you’re using an auto-answer quill”

Jeonghan: “If it were to be the case that I was using an auto-answer quill, you’d have no way of knowing because most of them look completely identical to the average quill”

You: “So you don’t plan on stopping”

Jeonghan: “Nope. Sorry, sweetheart”

You roll your eyes at him and trudge away, feeling somewhat defeated.

"If he's not going to say anything, someone has got to", you think to yourself, followed by the realization that "oh shit that someone's gotta be me"

Freezing in place in the middle of the hall, you make a split second decision and march back into the Muggle Studies classroom and up to the professor.

You explain to them your suspicions about Jeonghan (leaving out the part where you broke into the class and messed with the tests, of course), and the professor is surprisingly accepting of your accusation against another student.

"I always thought there was something off about his work ethic and his results, but I never thought about the potential of him using an auto-answer quill. Thank you for confiding in me, I'll make sure to put this information to good use", they say, and go back to grading tests.

You take that as your cue to leave, and head to the grand hall to meet with friends and grab some much deserved comfort food.

Mingyu: "And then Minghao-"

Seungkwan: "Ah! Y/N! What happened with the test??"

Vernon: "Was he cheating?"

You: "Yeah it turns out he was, and I talked to him after-"

Seungkwan: "You talked to him?! Do you even know him??"

Mingyu: "Can we agree to stop interrupting each other"

Seungkwan: "...sorry, I just get excited"

Vernon: "It's fine, but Y/N, what did you say to him?"

You: "I essentially told him I know that he's been cheating, he barely denied it, and then said he wasn't going to stop"

Vernon: "Snap. What are you doing to do?"

You: "Well I kind of already did something... I told the professor"

Seungkwan & Vernon: "YES!!!"

Mingyu: "NO!!!"

You: "What?! If I didn't say anything he'd keep cheating!"

Mingyu: "Have you ever heard of the phrase 'snitches get stitches'? He's gonna come after you and hex you!"

Seungkwan: "He's a Slytherin but he's not Jihoon. I doubt he'll do anything"

Vernon: "If anything, he'll probably just trash talk you"

You: "...how does that somehow feel worse"

Seungkwan: "Because it is"

You: "I came here to eat my stress away, not become more stressed"

Mingyu: "Sorry. It's better that you know, though"

You: "That's true. I guess I'll just be ready for whatever"

The rest of the day breezes by much faster than you'd prefer, and before you know it, it’s the next morning and you're back in Muggle Studies trying really hard to not look anywhere near Jeonghan. The last thing you want is for him to come over and start a conversation with you, for fear of ratting yourself out accidentally.

The class goes by normally, and Jeonghan doesn't look particularly bothered, dozing off like he usually does.

It's not until class comes to an end that the professor dismisses the class but calls Jeonghan to his desk for a "chat"

Scurrying out of the classroom, you can't help but linger outside the door, trying to listen in.

A few minutes later Jeonghan walks out, looking annoyed and stops a few feet away from you.

Jeonghan: "I assume this is your doing?", he says, his back to you.

You: "This is your doing. No one made you cheat"

With that comment, he turns around and makes his way over to you. A little too close, causing you to take a step backwards.

Jeonghan: "And why exactly do you care so much?", he asks with more curiosity than malice in his voice.

You: "Because it isn't fair. Some people study a lot and try really hard to prepare"

Jeonghan: "Had you told me that yesterday, I would've stopped"

You: "Had you not called me 'sweetheart', I might've considered mentioning it"

At this he perks up, with a more flirty demeanor.

Jeonghan: "What's wrong with 'sweetheart', sweetheart?"

You: "I?? Umm....", you start, but the combination of his closeness and just now realizing how unfairly pretty he is leaves you at a loss for words.

Jeonghan: "Well I think you're sweet, sweetheart. I don't think I caught your name when you interrogated me yesterday?"

You: "Oh, it's Y/N", you blurt out.

Jeonghan: "Y/N? Also very nice, but I still like calling you sweetheart. I'll see you around~", he says over his shoulder as he walks away, the strut in his step impossible to ignore.

Mixed feelings aside, you go about your day normally, making everything attempt to not think about Jeonghan and his stupid charm that definitely wasn't,,,, making you feel some way about him.

Some way being sorta maybe romantically interested.

Just thinking about him calling you sweetheart earlier has you a blushy mess.

Before you know it the day comes and goes, and you’re back in class with him again.

Instead of making his usual rounds to every table, saying hello to a handful of people, he marches straight up to your seat and stares at you with enough intensity to give you goosebumps.

You: “Um, hi?”

Jeonghan: “Y/N, sweetheart. Would you wanna spend some time with me after class today?”, he asks, loud enough for the whole class to hear.

Subtlety isn’t exactly in his vocabulary, you figure.

Too startled by the sudden request to make up an excuse off the top of your head, you agree. But also because you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little bit extremely curious about him.

You: “Sure, I’ve got no other plans”

Jeonghan: “Then it’s a date!”, he confirms with a wink and takes his seat on the other side of the classroom, leaving you to combust with embarrassment and giddiness.

The class goes by agonizingly slowly, but when it finally ends, wait for your classmates to clear out of the room before heading over to Jeonghan’s desk, where he’s taking a nap.

Some things just never change.

Nudging his shoulder ever so slightly, you’re able to stir him awake in time for him to catch the keys the professor tosses his way.

Professor: “Lock up when you finish”

Jeonghan: “You got it, teach”

At this point you’re more than a little confused with the situation, but Jeonghan makes sure to explain to you just what he meant by “spending time together”

Jeonghan: “Alright, let’s get to work!”

You: “Get to work?? What work?”

Jeonghan: “Since a certain individual decided to snitch to the professor about me cheating, it only seems fair that that person should help me with my punishment, which is the overwhelmingly enjoyable task of clapping erasers together to get the chalk dust out”, he says, and although it’s not a date, it’s still better than nothing. And you do feel kinda bad about ratting him out, even if it was well deserved.

You: “Okay, let me go get the erasers then....”, you agree and walk from chalkboard to chalkboard, gathering the erasers in your arms. When you plop them down on Jeonghan’s desk, he looks up from his seat at you with a look of confusion and amusement.

You: “What??”

Jeonghan: “Nothing it’s just,,,, I didn’t really expect you to agree. If I’m being honest I was going for revenge, here”

You: “Yeah I’m alright with that, I shouldn’t have been so quick to tell the professor when it wasn’t my business. I’m sorry for doing that”, you apologize and start clapping together two erasers.

Jeonghan sits at his desk with his arms resting on top of it, and his chin resting on top of his arms while you go through eraser by eraser, making sure to get them as clean as you can.

It’s a comfortable silence, and you don’t mind the cleaning. It’s honestly kind of fun to whack things together.

You can definitely feel him staring though, but don’t mention it because you’re not entirely sure why he’s staring. He did admit earlier that he was plotting revenge against you, so even though your feelings for him have changed for the better, you’re not sure he thinks very highly of you.

You don’t even have to ask though, because he answers the unspoken question himself.

Jeonghan: “I’m…. sorry, too”

You: “Hmm? What for?”

Jeonghan: “Not really for cheating- I don’t regret that. But for being kind of douchey to you. You didn’t deserve that”

You: “You weren’t all that bad, and I’ll admit that the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing is starting to grow on me”, you say, and that seems to perk up his mood quite a bit. Or at least his ego.

Jeonghan: “Oh really? Then would you wanna grab a butterbeer with me later tonight?”

You: “I’d love to, but aren’t you forgetting something?”

Jeonghan: “Forgetting what?”

You: “All of these”, you say and drop a pile of dusty erasers right in front of his face, causing him to jump back in his seat.

Jeonghan: “Hey! Not funny”

You: “I’m sorry, you should’ve seen your face!”, you say in between laughing.

Jeonghan: “Oh this is war”, he announces and finally gets up from his seat, only to pick up an eraser and chuck it right at you.

The eraser bounces off your arm, leaving a rectangle mark on the sleeve of your robes.

The next hour or so is spent throwing more erasers at each other than actually cleaning them but,,,, oh well. It’s more fun that way.

The two of you walk on over down to Hogsmeade covered in chalk but not really caring about it, because you’re together.

On the way, a thought occurs to you, and you’ve just got to ask.

You: “Umm did you notice a certain.... mark on your forehead the other day?”

Jeonghan: “’Cheater cheater pumpkin eater’? How could I not?”

You: “...sorry about that. But out of sheer curiosity, how did you manage to get it off??”

Jeonghan: “A lot of scrubbing. Jun offered to try and magic it off but I was afraid of him making it worse somehow”

You: “Aha, that was probably for the best”

At first glance, you didn’t think you’d get along very well with Jeonghan, but he’s actually a really relatable and nice guy- he can just be a little shit when given the opportunity.

You both slip into one of the booths at The Hog’s Head and Jeonghan orders you both butterbeers, insisting on paying for you.

Which you’re not complaining about at all, because a sweet, gorgeous guy that wants to buy you stuff?? Who in their right mind would say no to that.

After this one date, you two make plans for another one, and then another one, and after a while it’s just known that you’re a couple.

Neither of you were like “will you be my s/o”, it was just a mutual unspoken “yeah so like, you’re mine” kind of thing.

The first time you drop the word “boyfriend” in reference to Jeonghan though, he is over the MOON about it.

For that whole day he’s extra lovey and clingy, and when you ask him what’s up with that he’s like “it’s because I’m your boyfriend~!!”

He loves to get you lil presents, but he’s not the kind of guy to do really expensive gifts. Instead, it’s always something meaningful.

Except for one of your anniversaries, he got you a fancy looking quill.

You were thrilled about it, until you used it on a test and it filled in the answers automatically.

Jeonghan, who intentionally got you an auto-answer quill, had been staring at you during the test, waiting for you to notice.

When you do figure out what the quill really is, you snap your head towards him, eyes firey with rage, which just makes him laugh even more.

The professor notices and asks “Jeonghan, what is so funny about the assessment?” and he’s just like “it’s nothing… pshhh nothing at all”

Dating Jeonghan is like dating the sweetest, most caring guy but also a big trickster all at the same time.

And even though his antics can be annoying at times, he’s definitely worth it in the end.

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songbird-and-her-fos · 6 years

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So, after a lot of thinking about it, I’ve decided to post the remake of my first fanfiction. It’s based on my daydreams. I hope you enjoy!

Beyond Daydreams

Chapter 1

A whole new World

The day began like any other. I woke up long before my alarm clock would do its daily duty, and spent a few minutes in the velvety darkness pondering all of the things I had to do today. First I'd go to work, then I had to help my younger sister with her homework, and then... what?

I would have loved to spend some time with my friends, but most of them had significant others now, and thus were to busy to hang out. Especially during this time of the year, when the summer sun mercilessly scorched the country with her rays, they had all taken some days off to enjoy the heat.

It sucked to be the only single in my friend group.

I stood up, absentmindedly rubbing the sleepy dust from the corners of my eyes, and walking towards the kitchen, where, judging by the scent hanging in the air, my mother was preparing breakfast.

„Good morning, Cassie“, my mother greeted me. „Did you sleep well?“

She was packing my sister's lunch, still in her nightgown and obviously still very tired.

I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl next to the fridge and shrugged. „Eh, so-so. I always have trouble sleeping when it's so hot.“

Mom looked over to me. „You know, it wouldn't hurt you to have breakfast with Genny and me every once in a while, instead of just eating an apple and leaving.“

„Mom, you know that I just can't get myself to eat in the morning.“ I looked around. „Speaking of Genny, where is she?“

„I think she just went outside. Tinka climbed the old tree again and won't come down.“

I sighed. Tinka was our cat, a beautiful, pure white European Short-Hair. But her lovely looks seemed to hide the fact that she appearantly had trouble remembering that she was scared of heights. „I'll go get her.“

My younger sister Genevieve, Genny for short was standing in front of the old tree in our backyard. Nobody quite knew what kind of tree it was, only that my grandmother had planted it in her youth. It kind of resembled an oak, except that the nuts it bore every fall certainly weren't acorns.

Genny turned around when she heard my footsteps. She looked at lot like me when I was her age, before I got my glasses. We both had brown hair, though I had been keeping mine in a short, messy bob for the past few years while hers reached her mid-back, and we both had green eyes.

„Tinka is too scared to come down“, she told me softly. A habit she had picked up when she found out that I was very sensitive to people talking loudly.

I smiled at her. „That's okay. Go inside; breakfast is ready. I'll go get Tinka.“

She nodded and poked me in the arm as she walked past me and I poked her back, something we started doing as a way of showing affection a while ago, as Genny did not like being hugged.

Once the door closed behind her, I turned to the tree again and sighed. „Here goes nothing...“

Climbing the tree was no trouble for me, as I had been climbing that tree a lot as a child. I carefully reached for higher branches, carefully scanning for the ones thick enough to hold my weight, until I was high enough to grab Tinka. That's when I noticed it. It was as if someone had carved a small hole into the tree, and hidden something sparkling in it.

„Concentrate“, I told myself, but the object in that hole seemed to attract my thoughts like a magnet. So I carefully reached inside, and felt the cool, smooth surface of something resembling glass. As I pulled it out, I heard Tinka hiss. Suddenly, the object began to glow so bright that I had to shield my eyes, lost my balance, and fell.

The fall seemed to last an eternity. The tree wasn't very high, so what took so long? Or maybe I had already hit the floor and was just knocked out? But then how could I feel the edges of the shard I had pulled out of the tree so clearly against the palm of my hand?

After some time, I finally hit ground. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and the glasses off my face. It took some time for me to be able to breathe again. However, I did not see much upon opening my eyes, as I was as good as blind without my glasses. Then I heard footsteps. Tiny footsteps, as if a group of children was approaching me.

„Who is it? What is it?“, one of them asked. It was the voice of a little boy.

Another, the voice of a girl, said:„A Hylian!“

„Nonsense“, a third voice hissed. „Have you ever seen Hylians with ears or clothes like that?“

„What does it want?“, asked another. „How did it get here?“

Now, they were all talking at once, quite loudly, too, which prompted me to press my hands on my ears, like I always did when there was too much noise. The sudden movement seemed to startle the children, as they went quiet.

„Oh no, I think we scared it.“ As I looked up, one of the children had left the group and approached me.

„Saria, don't! It might be dangerous!“

„It doesn't look dangerous.“ The girl named 'Saria' now stood right in front of me, close enough that even I could make out some features. Most notably her green hair, but also the green clothes.

„You know“, I said dryly. „It's very rude to call someone 'it'. I'm a she, if you want to know.“

„It talks!“, I heard one of the other children whisper.

Saria leaned closer. „I'm... sorry, but we've never seen someone like you. And we didn't mean to scare you.“

„You didn't“, I replied. „I just don't like it when many people talk at once. It hurts my ears.“

„Oh. Well, we didn't mean to hurt you, either. Do you have a name?“

„Cassandra“, I said. Then I turned to scan the ground for my glasses again. „C-could you please help me find my glasses?“

„What's a glasses?“, Saria asked.

I sighed a deep sigh. „It's something that helps me see. My eyes are really bad, you know?“

„Oh.“ She walked past me, looking at the ground and finally picking something up and handing it to me. „Is this what you're looking for?“

„My glasses!“, I cheered. „Thank you.“ Maybe now I could get a better idea of where I was and what had happened.

Once they were in their place again, I turned to the group of children. All of them seemed to be around 10 years old, with either red, brown or blonde hair (or green, in Saria's case). They all wore green clothes, made of a fabric I couldn't quite name.

I had never seen any of them before, so I was about to ask what they were doing in my garden. But when I looked around, my jaw dropped. I was not in my garden anymore.

I was in a forest, at the foot of an absolutely massive tree. I had never seen a tree this big before. Then I noticed the signs of decay on its trunk and how the last leaves were falling.

This tree was very, very dead.

„Where am I?“, I asked, even though it felt terribly clichéd.

„This is Kokiri Forest“, Saria answered kindly. The name struck a cord in me. It seemed so familiar, but I couldn't remember where I had heard it before.

„Yes, and you shouldn't be here“, a boy from the group snapped. Then he turned to Saria. „Saria, this thing is bad news. First the Great Deku Tree's death, Link leaving, and now a weird... thing showing up here? This just spells trouble!“

„Mido! You're being very rude. Can't you see that Cassandra has no idea where she is?“, Saria scolded him. Then she turned to me again. „Can you stand?“

„I... think.“ I carefully got up, still a little wonky, but at least standing. „So. Kokiri Firest, huh? Do you kids live here? Where are your parents?“

The group of kids began to whisper among themselves again. „Parents? What's she talking about?“, one boy asked.

„I.. I think she means adults“, another said.

„Adults? We don't have those here.“

I let out a small laugh of disbelief. „You're pulling my leg. You're telling me you kids live here... all on your own? No adults?“

„No adults“, Saria confirmed. Then she looked around. „Mido may have been a bit rude before, but he had a point. You cannot stay here. Otherwise, the magic of the forest will turn you into a monster.“

For a moment, I thought that she was joking, but then I saw how utterly serious her face was.

„You're kidding“, I said.

„Unfortunately not“, she replied, taking my hand. „Come on. I'll lead you out of the forest.“

She led me away from the giant dead tree to another clearing in the forest, through a small village of child-sized houses, all carved into the stumps of trees.

Only then I saw the many floating lights.

„What are those?“, I asked, staring at them.

„Have you never seen a fairy before?“, Saria asked, and like on cue, a small ball of light with a green aura popped out of a pocket on her clothes. It had wings, but due to its glow, I could not make out any other features.

„Fairies“, I repeated slowly. „No. Not outside of books, at least.“

But as fascinating as this was, I also had the nagging feeling that all of this seemed eerily familiar.

As we approached what seemed to be the exit of the woods, Saria let go of my hand. „This is as far as I can take you“, she explained. „I do not know anything about the world outside of the forest. I do not know what will wait for you on the other side.“

„That's okay“, I replied. „Thank you for your help.“ Then I stepped out of the woods and into the bright light of the outside.

#Beyond Daydreams #The Legend of Zelda #fanfic #self insert

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sazandorable · 7 years

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A compilation and comparison of Ghetsis’ USUM lines about Giovanni in ENG, JPN, and FR

awright so I was actually started on this over on twitter and actively encouraged, so now you get... this (harharhar). It’s long and rambly, sorry!

For clarity’s sake, let’s start with the official ENG localization. I’m linking random LP videos each time for convenience, but there are lots of others to find.

ENGLISH:

"In order to achieve this beautiful ideal, however, I have need of a useful pawn... And that man, the leader of Team Rocket, is a man of pure evil! If I can make good use of him, and set him up as a king, I shall be able to reign supreme above all existence!"

"I have found that humans, with their predictable ambitions, are easier to use and control than a freak without a human heart."

"It wouldn't do at all to have you get in his way, especially when I must establish him as my king!"

(text c/p’d from bulbapedia (bolding mine). conversely, please have a look — i don’t even mean read, just. look. — at the entirety of ghetsis’s USUM dialogue on bulbapedia:

look at all this bold. i love his freakout trips so much.)

So to recap:

- pawn

- man of pure evil

- useful, make good use

- set up as (my) king

- human

- predictable, easy to use and control

- don’t get in his way (doesn’t comply with my plans!)

Now for the original

JAPANESE:

この野望を叶えるには操り人形が必要です純粋な悪の思想を持つロケット団のボス… あの男…王としてうまく扱えばワタクシはあらゆる存在の頂点に立てるのです！目的がわかりやすい人間は人の心を持たぬ化け物よりはるかに制御しやすいのです！いいですか？ワタクシの王として彼を利用するためじゃまをされてはこまるのですよ！

(partly c/p’d from this blessing of a page which is basically the monolingual equivalent of this post, I’m laughing so much, same, bro, same)

I’m... Ok, I linked a video where the player reads the text aloud, but I’m still also going to transliterate this so you can “hear” it in your heads because. I really need you all to take notice of the sheer amount of “のです” in this extract. 3 out of 4 lines end with “no desu”. This is how Ghetsis speaks all the time. English localization did its best but still mostly lost this IMO: there’s two ways to read the formal, polite way JPN!Ghetsis speaks. One is the calmly threatening, quietly scary way in which the player acts out his lines in the video. The other way, the way I personally cannot stop hearing him, is like an affable, cutesy and harmless grandmother. Like a moe schoolgirl, even. Ghetsis once referred to himself & Team Plasma as being all “nakama” in canon. (EDIT: i actually remembered that bit as being worded “nakama na no desu” but alas, not quite.)

I just really need people to know this, okay.

Now that I’ve made this clear, as-literal-and-close-as-possible-and-thus-very-wonky-sounding translation by yours truly:

kono yabou wo kanaeru ni wa, ayatsuriningyou ga hitsuyou desu

“To fulfill this ambition, I need a puppet.”

Although “pawn” is a perfectly good translation choice (and adds a very appropriate chess theme), I also really want to let it be known that the original was “a puppet” (操り人形 ayatsuri ningyou). The kind with strings. (操る ayatsuru means “to pull strings” or “to manipulate”, in the literal sense.) Such a wonderfully creepy image too <3

junsui na aku no shisou wo motsu ROCKETTO-dan no BOSU... ano otoko... ou toshite umaku atsukaeba, watakushi ha arayuru sonzai no chouten ni tateru no desu!

“The boss of Team Rocket, of purely evil thought/idea/ideology... that man... if I can successfully treat him as a king / if I can make good use of him as a king, I will be able to stand at the summit of all of existence!”

The ENG used two verbs constructions here, but it's a single word. I am not savvy enough in Japanese to be able to tell if one or both nuances is stronger than the other here. But I do know that the verb (扱う atsukau) has the two meanings (“handle/operate” and “treat as”). And the ENG localization did keep “make use of”, too, despite the として structure being generally translated with “treat as”. I'm just saying, interesting double meaning within a single word here. V nice.

mokuteki ga wakariyasui ningen ha, hito no kokoro wo motanu bakemono yori haruka ni seigyoshiyasui no desu!

“A human with easy-to-know/understand objectives/motivations is far easier to control/keep in check than a monster without a person’s heart!”

... Okay usually I would have gone with “without a human heart”, like the localization always does, but the thing is he actually says “人間 ningen” (human) in the part about Giovanni. But not for N. In his usual pet name for N, he just uses “人 hito” (person). So. As evil as Giovanni is, Ghetsis still considers him human, unlike N (and N doesn’t get to be a person either). As lovely a dad as ever, huh. (Not about Giovanni but also noteworthy: the “freak” in the recurrent pet name is originally “monster” (化け物 bakemono). As far as I can tell, it’s always the exact same wording in JPN too.)

Technically this sentence could also be set in plural (no grammar cue at all), but since he’s clearly referring to N in the second half, I went with singular both times. In truth, he could be referring to humans in general (like what the localization went with), or simply to Giovanni specifically.

ii desu ka? watakushi no ou toshite kare wo riyousuru tame jama wo sarete ha komaru no desu yo!

“What about this? In order for me to make use of him as my king, allowing you to interfere would be troublesome!”

I ALSO JUST REALLY NEEDED EVERYONE TO KNOW THAT HE SAYS “II DESU KA?” HERE AND IT’S SO HARD TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO CONVEY THAT ACCURATELY. IT’S NOT QUITE “WHAT ABOUT IT”. IT’S BASICALLY. ASKING FOR YOUR PERMISSION. LIKE “MAY I?”. Except of course he’s not asking for your permission, it’s also like... “So, you see?” But basically. Basically he’s not just threatening you or explaining to you why he’s gonna beat you up, he’s like “See what I’m about? So, can’t you be a good kid and let me do this puh-leaaase? :)”

And the word choice in the rest of the line is also very “Look I’m a nice harmless grandma :) :)” and cutesy.

The verb for “use” is a different one this time, though, more straightforward.

And the last line is slightly ambiguous as to who you’d interfere with — either “I can’t let you interfere with my plan (which is to control Giovanni)”, or “I can’t let you interfere with Giovanni’s actions, since I need him to succeed for my own plans”. Ultimately that doesn’t change a thing, but the latter sounds a little like “heeeey don’t break my stuuuff, I need this”.

And by the way yes it’s literally “my king” in Japanese too, very conspicuously so, sounded super gay to me.

So to recap, this version gives us:

- puppet

- PURE EVIL MIND

- to treat him as my king (huhuh)

- human

- easy to understand, easy to control/keep in check

- puhwease :) don’t get in [his OR my] way

And now for the absolute funniest:

FRENCH:

“Mais pour cela, j'ai besoin d'une créature... Un pion facile à manipuler, un pantin pour distraire les masses...”

“Et soudain, voilà que le ‹‹ boss ›› de la Team Rocket, un homme à l'âme plus noire que son costume, se présente à moi !”

“Je n'ai qu'à faire de cet homme un roi, puis à tirer les ficelles en coulisses... Et je me dresserai au sommet incontesté de toute la création !”

“Il est tellement plus aisé de manipuler un balourd aux désirs primaires qu'une grotesque parodie d'être humain sans âme !”

“Comprenez-vous, belle enfant ? Et vous, Dresseuse ? Je ne peux vous laisser m'empêcher de faire de cet homme un roi.”

So much to unpack here. /rolls back sleeves/

First off, you can probably tell that the French localization loves to make Ghetsis RAMBLE. He’s very dramatic, flair and all, and his choice of words are absurdly purple (and often archaic). Yes, he noticeably has these traits in the ENG localization too, but FR!Ghetsis is that to eleven. I can’t manage to accurately convey this in these translations, but trust me, he’s just. Completely over the top in all ways, all the time.

Mais pour cela, j'ai besoin d'une créature... Un pion facile à manipuler, un pantin pour distraire les masses...

“But for this, I need a creature... A pawn, easy to manipulate, a puppet to distract/entertain the masses...”

Geez, FR!Ghets, how come your localization lets you have all the cool dehumanizing insults and creepy metaphors at once?!

Et soudain, voilà que le ‹‹ boss ›› de la Team Rocket, un homme à l'âme plus noire que son costume, se présente à moi !

“And suddenly, the “boss” of Team Rocket, a man with a soul blacker than his suit, presents himself to me!”

I treasure the shade in those sarcastic quotation marks, okay. These just. Come from absolutely nowhere. Quite possibly to poke fun at the fact that French localizations have used the word “boss” from the start of the franchise, and it would be weird and confusing to use something else to refer to Giovanni here, but it’s not actually a word we’d use naturally and, indeed, FR!Ghetsis would never use it unironically (it’s kind of slang and very much not-originally-a-French-word)...

Also: A SOUL BLACKER/DARKER THAN HIS SUIT

GUYS THIS WAS NOT IN THE ORIGINAL SCRIPT

Je n'ai qu'à faire de cet homme un roi, puis à tirer les ficelles en coulisses... Et je me dresserai au sommet incontesté de toute la création !

“All I need to do is to make this man king / make a king out of this man, then pull the strings backstage... And I will stand at the unquestioned/unchallenged top of all of creation!”

In this version he just says he’s literally going to make Giovanni a king. No detail as to how, but there’s no nuance that it’s just pretending or tricking him or anything. The words he uses also mean literally “pull strings” and “backstage”, exact same nuances as in English, so still totally reveling in the show metaphors.

Il est tellement plus aisé de manipuler un balourd aux désirs primaires qu'une grotesque parodie d'être humain sans âme !

“It is so much easier to manipulate a boorish oaf with primal/basic desires than a grotesque parody/repulsive joke of a soulless human being!”

... Again. Bonus extra shade. The original wasn’t complimentary by any measure, but this is so gratuitously extra mean. Amusingly, even though we have the word “ambitions” too, the FR localization opted to turn the JPN “objectives” into “desires”. Yes, same nuance as in English here too. “Désirs primaires” sounds insulting but also... kind of raunchy.

Also, “balourd” is a really funny word choice, intrinsically and also especially when contrasting with Ghetsis’ usual speech, it suddenly drops a few levels in formality to go almost colloquial. A “balourd” is like... think The Jungle Book’s Baloo, actually.

"Grotesque parodie d’être humain” was one of the (... many) things he yelled to N at the very end of B2W2, however it was translated a bit differently in BW, so this is the first reoccurrence French localizations get!

(... Because until then he had... quite a varied arsenal of these. “Marionnette” (puppet) and “aberration de la nature” (aberration/freak of nature) in B2W2, “MA CREATURE” (my creature/creation — Giovanni got this one too here!), “Il ne possède pas de coeur!” (He doesn’t possess a heart!) and “triste abomination” (sad/grotesque abomination) in BW.)

Comprenez-vous, belle enfant ? Et vous, Dresseur/Dresseuse ? Je ne peux vous laisser m'empêcher de faire de cet homme un roi.

“Do you understand, beautiful/lovely child? And you, Trainer? I cannot (afford to) let you stop me from making this man king / making a king out of this man.

This has nothing to do with Giovanni anymore but it’s some more extra creepy :) (HAHAHA YOU HAVE FALLEN FOR MY CUNNING TRICK i just wanted to ramble about Ghetsis’ awesome lines and speech patterns in general ok... don’t shame me...)

“Do you understand?” appears to be how the FR localization chose to deal with the “Ii desu ka?”, which isn’t a wrong decision, but they randomly decided to apply it to Lillie too.

“Belle enfant” is referring to Lillie, he calls her this through the entire scene. It sounds very archaic (calling to mind the Middle-Ages and fairy tales — it’s what someone would call a teenage Sleeping Beauty for instance) and also, you know, SUPER CREEPY. Also, despite this infantilization, he uses vous (= formal you) for both Lillie and the PC, which is very very odd for an adult speaking to a child. Like I said: extremely polite, overly so, unnaturally so.

... Until you beat him and he snaps, anyway, because then he switches to tu (= thee, informal/familiar you) and informal insults. <3

Anyway, in this version he says you’re in his way, not Giovanni’s.

So to recap:

- creature, puppet, pawn

- manipulate, pull strings, creation

=> overall, all the chess AND (puppet) show AND creator-god metaphors (later on instead of “ruler of this world” FR!Ghets literally calls himself “the demiurge”, I’m not making this up)

- “““boss””” of Team Rocket

- his soul is blacker than his suit

- simplistic, boorish oaf

- ... does not directly call him a human (just at-least-not-a-grotesque-parody-of-a-human-being)

- primal desires ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

- don’t stop ME from MAKING HIM KING

- (no “my king” :()

I wasn’t setting out to make a point but oh hey guess there is one: the level of ‘respect’ and amusement Ghetsis has for Giovanni’s abilities and evilness, as well as exactly how serious Ghetsis is about the whole king thing, vary from one version to another, and some things can also be interpreted in various ways! The reason why he attacks you also differs from “Uhhmm, I can’t let you get to Giovanni and ruin his thing, because I need him functional for my thing later, so I’ll have to stop you here” to “Don’t ruin my thing. Lol just try and stop me”. ... And I thought he called Giovanni something along the lines of “black-hearted” in all versions, but this post taught me that he doesn’t, just “evil”, so hey now you know that in French he does, isn’t it neat!

Also, Giovanni may be evil and basic, but at least he doesn’t speak to Pokémon.

Ghetsis, your standards.

#pokemon ultra sun & moon #team rainbow rocket #ghetsis #giovanni #baddabingbaddaboomshipping #remember this amazing ship name?#pokemon #pokemon usum #aza tries to translate japanese #la team française oh mon dieu #long post (under readmore)#jp en fr

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medusamyra-blog · 7 years

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Helloooo! I’ve (finally) filled out the talk tag post to give you guys some info on my version of Medusa! Please let me know if you have any questions about her, or if you’d like to plot! I’m definitely looking for a roommate or two, as well as any other connection under the sun (especially for fellow New Olympians). Let’s get this party started! (Well...it’s been started...for awhile now...I am very late...but for ME it’s a very new party, okay?)

Also I might have made some assumptions here as far as our characters go, so if you see something wonky please tell me

BASICS

full name: Myra Shirin Bahl

The name is commonly associated with the Latin word, myyrh: a bitter resin extracted from a small, thorny plant. Though many bitter things might make you pucker when they first touch your tongue, they are often proven to be very useful, such as in medicinal herbs, or flavoring fine wine. And as they say, many beautiful, wonderful things are known to be protected by thorns.

any nicknames?: As a child she went by Mimi. She doesn’t use that name anymore. Though she hears some of the folk at Old Olympus call her Medusa behind her back.

age: 25. a quarter of a century, oh no!

birthday/zodiac sign: August 19th, 1992. Leo. A fiery lioness filled with passion.

height: 5′-6:

any tattoos, piercings?: Though she has done a lot of breaking boundaries and exploring new options for herself, piercings and tattoos have been a little too permanent for her to take the plunge on. Besides a single piercing in each of her ears, her skin remains undecorated for the time being. Though she considers it from time to time, she still wonders if she’ll ever be able to reconnect with her family and her old self, and something like a tattoo is just a little too much of a commitment for the time being.

FAVORITES

sound: Ocean waves softly kissing the shore ( she sleeps with a soft noise machine when the other apartment tenants are particularly loud )

color: Dusty lilacs and calming blue hues. The color of a clear, cloudless sky. And deep, royal purple ( not just for the matriarchal implications )

person: A multitude of faces rush through her head--her mother, her father, her brother, her ex-lover, her ex-best-friend--before she reminds herself they can’t be her favorite anymore. She has to be her own favorite person now.

memory: It’s hard to pick a favorite memory when so many of the people she shared them with no longer see her in the same light. Every good moment becomes a cherished memory in hindsight. They appear in flashes: peeling carrots with her mother, sharing lighthearted conversation about how men were helpless in the kitchen. Walking down the street as a young girl, holding her father’s hand and feeling so safe, like nothing in the world could touch her with her impenetrable father there to protect her.

place: Gritty, warm sand beneath her toes, the hot sun on her back, the cool water at her feet. Specifically, the beaches home in Los Angeles (especially Malibu). New York beaches just can’t compare, though when she’s desperate for some sun she’ll use them as a placeholder.

vice: Warm lips on her neck, rough hands on her skin. She never expected to be the type to fall for such carnal pleasures, but once she got a taste, it was an urge that always came back to haunt her. Though it has never been as fulfilling as the first time, with the woman she’d loved, she loved the feeling of another person on top of her.

HAVE THEY EVER…

…been in love?

Luli had been the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. At first, Myra wasn’t sure if she wanted to be with her or simply wanted to be her. Soon, the question answered itself. She never thought she would want a woman in such a primitive way, nor a romantic way, but Luli changed Myra’s perspective on just about everything. It was passionate and warm and enlightening and thriving and everything Myra had never thought she’d wanted, or needed. It was the most wonderful and thrilling feeling she’d ever experienced--

even if it didn’t last.

…done drugs?

When she’d first gotten involved with Olympus, still new to the big city. There were so many new opportunities for her here that hadn’t existed back home, and she wanted to try everything. Nothing too dangerous, but she’ll never forget the bubbling excitement of her first joint. There had been a naive air about her that both made people protective of her, and also made people want to push things on her, but she stood her ground. She wanted to enjoy her newfound freedom, but within reason, and she certainly wasn’t about to ruin her new life by getting hooked on something bad.

…killed someone?

Not by choice. Everything that night had gone wrong. It was her first year on transportation and things weren’t going as smoothly as everyone expected them to. It was her or them and she panicked. She did what she had to do, but the first time she took someone else’s life was the hardest, even if it was for her own safety.

…betrayed someone’s trust?

Despite the age difference, Victoria had been her best friend. She’d been the first person Myra had connected with in New York, and Myra had crawled under her wing and adopted her as her mentor, whether she’d initially wanted it or not. Victoria was her secret keeper, the first person she’d told about her life back in California, what she had fled from and what she had fled to become.

At first, it hadn’t felt like cheating. But then it did. And she knew it was wrong. And she didn’t put a stop to it until it was too late. In the end, she isn’t sure which loss was worst: her lover or her best friend.

…had their heart broken?

If love was the best feeling in the world, heartbreak was the worst. It had teared her to shreds, ripped her apart after every attempt at glueing herself back together again. What it also did, however, was harden her: make her strong, impervious, impenetrable. Just like the myth of a broken bone healing stronger than before, her broken heart and broken soul came back ten times stronger after that, and she swore she would never let it break again.

…lost someone?

Never by death, but unattainable by the weight of her own actions. Not lost, but simply impossible to find as they once were..

DO THEY…

have any pets?: This is technically TBD since I don’t know who her roommates are yet, but in my head she has two small pet (land) turtles, named after women’s rights activists Susan B. Anthony and Lucretia Mott (“Susie and Lucy”)

have a family they still talk to?: No. Sometimes she wishes she could, but she feels it’s just too late. Even if she were to contact them, she would probably have to change back into who she was--into Mimi--and she’s just not willing to do that.

have a best friend?: It used to be Victoria, back when she first touched down in NYC. Someone she could tell anything to, confess her deepest fears and biggest secrets. Well, she left out one particularly large secret, and their best-friendship was broken forever. (Who is it now? Only time will tell)

want to get married and/or have kids?: It used to be a given that as a woman, she would settle down with a husband and pop out a few kids. Now that she’s breached so far past the Bahl Family Norm, she’s not so sure she could ever go back to that. Sure, after a stressful, dangerous day, she might think a normal, quiet life in a suburb with a family might be nice, but as far as she’s concerned, she’s too far gone to ever get that old little girl dream.

want to leave?: Sometimes, but she’s already run away once before, and reinventing yourself certainly takes its toll on your identity. Everyone has hard days, where they want to leave their life behind and start somewhere new, but she doesn’t feel she’s been in New York long enough yet to call it quits. Not to mention, she would be letting down the other members of New Olympus, the people who took her in when she was still new to the city and had no place to go, and she wouldn’t let her own flight risk tendencies harm them in anyway..

THIS OR THAT?

phone call or text? T E X T. They’re straight-forward, to the point, and leave interpretation out of the equation. “Meet at 11:05 in the alley?” There’s nothing else to it. It’s quick and it’s efficient., and there’s no way for it to be construed

wealth or loyalty? L O Y A L T Y. All the money in the world can’t buy you trust or friendship. Though she could really use the money, everyone needs at least one person they can trust in above all else.

love or lust? L U S T. Love gets you nothing but heartbreak. It tears down your walls and pillages your heart like an invading army and it leaves nothing but ruin in its wake. Lust allows you “all the same perks” without the emotional investment and vulnerability. It is clearly the superior choice.

5 Friends or 100 Acquaintances? 5 FRIENDS. True loyalty is hard to come by these days, and the less you know a person, the more dangerous to you they can be to you.

summer or winter? S U M M E R! Having grown up in California, the New York winters are pretty bracing to her. Even if summer weather reminds her of home, she will never not love the sun.

#*arrives late with starbucks* hey guys what's up #( about. )#olympustalk #check out this psd i found i wanna put it on everything #this could have been more artsy and prosey but i wanna work on threads so for now it's just somewhat informative

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karl-urban-is-my-overlord · 7 years

Text

The Mystery of an Elf

Pairing: Éomer X OC

Summary: An elf flees South to avoid a horde of orcs, but must use magic to protect herself. Éomer finds her and helps her regain her memory.

A/N: Please excuse any wonky sentences or grammar, I wrote this to distract myself from the inescapable Florida heat during the aftermath of a hurricane.

Word Count: 1,461

Aeril mounted her grand horse, a fine beast of grey and black that complimented her pale complexion. The horse towered over the other elves, and she looked down at her mother. Galadriel looked up at her daughter, and spoke soft words in elvish. They gave each other soft nods, and Aeril urged her horse out the beautiful entrance of the river sanctuary. The elven warriors watched as she departed, closing the gate behind her. Her long, auburn hair cascaded down her back, covering it in loose waves of red.

With the Fellowship of the Ring having formed, Aeril didn’t have to aid in taking the ring to Mordor as she had originally expected. With no duties in Rivendell, she decided to return home to Lothlorien. She was expected to become the next lady in the wood, and risking her own life was something that her mother would rather avoid.

She rode towards the passageway through the mountains, but could sense that something stood in her way. Many paces later she could see the outline of a large number of orcs crowding the passageway. Aeril swiftly turned South. She knew that taking the long way would tire her horse considerably more, but if she could make it to Rohan then she wouldn’t have to worry about hordes of orcs. Best case scenario, she could get an escort from the Riders of Rohan.

She pushed her horse forward, urging him into a gallop. She glanced back and watched the silhouettes fade into the mountainside. She let out a deep sigh and set her sights on Rohan. She rode fast and hard, keeping an eye on every suspicious shadow.

Finally, Aeril could see Rohan on the horizon. She grinned at the sight and picked up her pace. Her horse urged forward in anticipation, he knew where they were headed and the safety that it meant. But before they could make it to the refuge of Rohan, loud screeches sounded to their East. Aeril looked to the mountains that split the landscape, and saw upwards of thirty orcs spring from the mountainside. Her heart leaped out of her chest and she pushed her horse as much as she could, but it was no use.

The orcs were upon her in minutes, and she knew she wouldn’t make it to Rohan. Being an elf meant she had her last resort, but using it would mean incapacitating herself and hoping for the right help to come along. She knew it was a risk, but it was her only chance at ripping free of the orc horde.

Aeril swiftly halted her horse and turned towards the incoming orcs. She began speaking in a soft elvish that got louder and more aggressive with each word. The orcs began to surround her, but didn’t get too close. They knew she was up to something. Once they all got close enough she began shouting the elvish words, and light seemed to beam down from the sky. The light penetrated the orcs, ripping their souls from their bodies. Her horse reared up, attempting to avoid the destructive light that was wreaking havoc on the orcs. All at once the bodies of the orcs dropped to the ground, completely lifeless. Moments later Aeril also dropped to the ground, her energy completely drained.

She slipped in and out of consciousness, remembering only brief moments of sunlight or the sound of hooves hitting the hard ground. Aeril didn’t remember who found her, and couldn’t figure out how she got in a room filled with earth browns and on a bed that seemed to have never been slept in. She awoke with a start, and breathed heavily as she looked around the foreign room. As her eyes adjusted she could see the familiar horse of Rohan, the riders had found her. However, that symbol was the only thing that made sense to her. Her mind was swimming, and she was unsure of everything. The magic had done a number on her mind, blocking her most basic instincts and memories. Everything around her was foreign, except for the horse that she knew belonged to the impressive warriors of a place called Rohan.

Before she could think to get up, the small door sprung open. A man with shoulder-length blond hair and slightly darker facial hair entered the room. He seemed startled when he saw her sitting up, but smiled a handsome smile when realized she was awake. She pulled the blankets up and covered her body. She didn’t know why, but she felt as if she wasn’t supposed to be in that room with that man. She did notice that the man had kind, amber eyes. He didn’t look threatening in the slightest, which made her wonder why she felt so afraid.

He walked over to the bed very gingerly, and sat next to her. She just stared at him. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t will the words to come. Finally, he spoke for her.

“Do you know where you are?” He asked. She simply nodded. He let out a small sigh of relief. “Do you know how you got here?” She stared at him for several seconds, trying to put the pieces together. Aeril gently shook her head. He let out another sigh, one that was definitely not of relief.

“My name is Éomer, and I am the third Marshal of the Mark.” He paused, and she could tell he didn’t quite know how to speak to her. “We were out on patrol when we saw beams of light shoot down from the sky in the North, it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. The ground shook when the beams disappeared, and if I didn’t know any better I would think a dragon had come for us.” He paused again, but this time the pause was accompanied by a lighthearted chuckle. Aeril liked the sound of his voice, it was calm and low. “We rode as fast as we could to the source, and when we arrived we found you. You were on the ground next to a beast of a horse, and you were surrounded by enormous circles that looked to be burned into the stone beneath you. You were also surrounded by a rather large number of dead orcs, who had all perished without a single flesh wound. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed and also utterly confused by the situation.” He chuckled again. “Elven magic is something I’ve only heard stories about, seeing it in person was a new experience… We approached you and tried to wake you up, but you were out cold. We brought you back here and gave you our best room, it’s not very often that we get to aid an elf,” he said. He smiled again, and she noted how genuine it was. He looked at her expression, realizing that she was hearing the entire situation for the first time. “Do you remember anything?” Aeril hesitated, but cleared her throat and tried to collect her thoughts.

“I remember riding South, but I don’t remember why… I was headed here, to Rohan,” she said. “The light, the rumbling, I must have used powers that were beyond my capabilities. I can’t remember anything other than the fact that I was heading here,” Aeril said. Éomer clenched his jaw and looked at his hands, she could see the concern growing in his expression. “My horse, is he here?” He looked up at the unexpected question and nodded.

“He is in our stable, would you like me to take you to him?” She nodded. She started to rise from the bed but when she got to her feet, a sharp pain sot through her head. She stumbled, but he caught her, and propped her up against his shoulder. “If you need more time to rest, he can wait,” Éomer said. Aeril started shaking her head, she knew the horse was her only chance at remembering all the things she’d forgotten. Elves were not like humans, rest wasn’t the cure all. He gave her an exasperated grunt, but started towards the door.

It wasn’t a long journey to the stable, but it was an exhausting one. The pain in her head had not subsided, and each step was more difficult than the last. Finally, they stood in front of the enormous grey horse. Once they got close enough, Aeril sprung away from Éomer’s shoulder and latched onto the horse. She began speaking elvish, and the horse seemed to become agitated. Éomer stepped back from the massive horse, his face looked confused and concerned. After several minutes of muttering elvish words to the horse, she stumbled back to Éomer and she fell back out of consciousness.

#lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #elves #riders of rohan #eomer #eomer imagine #eomer x oc #karl urban #karl urban imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction #rohan #rivendell #galadriel

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fanforfanatic · 7 years

Text

As You’re Told - FOUR

Relationships: Castiel x Reader Rating: Smut Warnings: Dom/sub, bdsm A/N: Orgasms occur this time!

~8000 words

Summary: You start dating Castiel, a famous physicist, when you get hired at the same university as him. A few months into the relationship, you explore dom/sub dynamics within your sex lives.

Read it on ao3

Chapters on tumblr: ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

Chapter FOUR

You lock the door after him and let out a massive breath. You lean on the wall for a little while, waiting for the shit storm to hit. Waiting for the panic. For the embarrassment. For the What the fuck just happened? It doesn’t come. You wonder if it’s normal that you liked what you and Cas did so much. If it’s normal to enjoy- not just enjoy but relish- following orders as much as you did. But that’s the extent of the ramifications.

You’ve had wilder sex than this. Hell, you’ve had wilder sex than this with Cas. Hell, you didn’t really even get to the sex part. It was freaking frottage at the most. But. But. It was so intense. Every little thing felt massive, felt like the only thing, until the next thing. Then, that became the only thing.

You were nervous (really fucking nervous) in the beginning, but it definitely got easier. You hadn’t been able to get up from your chair when he first asked you to, but by the end you were under his damn thumb. (Your hand drifts to your left breast, then, though you don’t feel it through the thickness of the robe.) When you managed to do what Cas asked of you, it made the next task less daunting. At some point you stopped even thinking about it but you think that had more to do with how much you wanted to come. Probably.

You sigh again. No trainwreck for now. To keep it that way you know that you need to avoid thinking of just how pathetic you were at times. Begging and pleading, choking on your own words.

“Nope nope nope. Not going there.”

You trudge to the kitchen, realising just how thirsty you are and down a glass of water. You fill it up again, waiting patiently for the water distributor in the refrigerator door. You take another few sips and leave it on the counter.

You go find your discarded clothes next. You pull on your jeans, forgoing underwear, and smell the shirt you had borrowed from Cas. It didn’t smell like sex or sweat or debauchery like you thought it might but you decide to get a fresh one anyway. You head back to the bathroom, the one that’s in Cas’ room and, once you pick up your panties and Cas’ underwear from the floor, drop them and the t-shirt in the laundry basket. You hang up the bathrobe and return to the bedroom.

You put on the bra you’d had yesterday and go to his dresser. The undershirts (and the socks) are in the second drawer. You open the first. The sight of the toys is too much too fast and has you slamming the drawer shut. You’re not a fucking prude, okay? You own toys. You didn’t feel embarrassed when you went and bought them in the store (ordering online is for wimps). You dirty talk as much as the next guy. Better. You really have a mouth on you when you get going in general. You’re a rambler. An excessive talker. That transfers into sex.

Usually.

You had your tongue caught in your throat with Cas earlier today, because it’s not the same. It’s just not. Cas wanted you to say things and it was so out there. Not the words being said, but the saying of the words. Usually, when you’re saying the nasty while doing the nasty, you don’t see the other person staring at you like they’re holding back from ravaging you. Usually your head is pressed into a pillow where the words are muffled and your eyes are closed. Or the other person’s head is between your legs and you’re not maintaining constant eye contact. Usually, you’re so far gone by the time your lips get loose that you can’t be bothered feeling embarrassed. Can’t be bothered filtering any of it. It was different this morning, though.

Just like these toys are different. These toys aren’t in an old shoebox under your bed. They aren’t the alternative to your hand. These toys are full of Cas. Hand picked by Cas. Thoughtful and careful choices made by Cas. Rebuilt my collection , he’d said. He placed them here, in this drawer that has dividers. He organised them, probably re organised them when all the dildos didn’t fit in one section, decided to put the butt plugs there instead or some other arbitrary shit that happens when people are figuring out storage. Point is these are Cas’ . Meaning, he wanted to use them on someone in very specific ways and now he wants to use them on you. And you’re going to let him. You’re going to let him.

So, yeah, these toys are different and it’s a little hard to look at them. The world can bite your sweet ass.

You open the drawer again, just an inch and peek inside. There’s so many things in here, it’s full to the damn brim. You open the drawer more fully and force yourself to stare inside until you can stop your muscles from clenching. You don’t really take in most of what’s in there. You’re just- Exposure therapy. That’s what you’re doing, you realise. With a huff (once you’ve unclenched all your muscles), you close the drawer once more. You don’t need to be practicing psychology on yourself.

Except maybe you do. Shrugging on a new t-shirt from the second drawer you say, “I want you to touch me.”

Walking back to the kitchen you say, “Fuck me, Cas.”

After a sip of water you say, “Fuck me, Cas, please.” And then, “Please fuck me, Cas?” You wonder if there’s a grammatical preference for the order of the words. You shrug and head to the coat stand with your water. You’d left your satchel bag at the base of it, last night.

“Yes, I want you to take my underwear off. Yes, I want to stop being such a fucking loser. Would I like to not suck? Sure!”

You plop down onto the couch and pull your computer from your bag. You get about an hour of work done, taking care of the grades first, then diving into the powerpoint. You are the newest member of the faculty, at least as far as the physics department is concerned, so you get a lot of the tasks the people with seniority don’t want. Like hosting a seminar for confused freshmen who haven’t declared their major. You don’t mind it so much. You figure everyone’s gotta pay their dues.

After that first hour, you have to consciously stop yourself from researching dominant and submissive relationships. Information is power, but information can also get inside your head. Well, obviously that’s where information goes, but, whatever, you get what you mean.

You think what you glimpsed while filling out the checklist is enough to tide you over. You know that you can ask Cas questions, in any case, and he probably has trustworthy resources if ever you want to delve in deeper. Jumping blindly nerves first in the wild sea of the internet is not something you’re interested in doing when it comes to this. Still, you end up having to stop yourself from doing exactly that at least four times.

It’s when you’re trying not to cave for the fifth time that Cas decides to text you, like the saviour that he is.

How are you feeling?

About what we did?

We’ll talk about that in person. How r u feeling rn?

I’m good? You type out.

Cas got weird after Charlie called and at the time your mind was sluggish so you hadn’t caught on, but you know now that Cas was doing aftercare. Which is sweet, really, but unnecessary. You weren’t going to have that thing that subs have where they feel wonky after a scene, because you aren’t a real sub. Besides, you guys barely did anything, it probably doesn’t happen even to real subs unless there’s actual sex involved.

You continue typing: Nbd. Getting hungry, you gonna be here for lunch?

Cas’ answer is immediate. Nbd??

No big deal, old man

So you’re alright?

Yes sir :p ;) You follow up with, food?

I’m gonna be another two hours at least. Eat w/o me

Is the part.acc. data retrieved?

Working on it :( And then, Should be fine tho. What are you doing?

Procrastinating, because im a model prof

You feel up to doing something for me? It can wait til im home

You swallow. Are you up for it? Before, Cas was there to reassure you every time you thought you were in over your head. Cas isn’t here now. Then again, that also means you could freak out privately. And Cas’ eyes on you was thirty percent of the struggle.

Baby? It’s nbd :P we can wait

Shoot

Ur sure?

You type: yeah, bruh, hit me with your best shot. You erase it and type: Wouldn’t say that I am if- You erase it and type: Im sure cas

Ur perfect

I want you to go the dresser and open the first drawer

Take every single toy in your hands and decide if you’d like it used on you

Make a no pile on the bed

Pick the one from the yeses you’d like to try first and put it on top of the dresser.

You stare at the onslaught of texts for a minute. Or two. Or maybe a whole fucking year goes by. Absentmindedly, you turn the sound of your phone off, in case Cas decides to go on another texting spree.

Do you understand?

Yea cas

Would you like to wait for me?

You picture it for a moment, Cas sitting on the bed, grinning at you while you go through each and every item, probably as red as a tomato.

Should I feel insulted?

Extremely so. I prefer when youre not around, i just rly like ur place

You’re cruel

Gottago deans got smt

Be good.

“Fuck,” You mutter, rubbing a palm against your left boob. “You be good, asshole.”

You shove your computer away like it’s what’s offended you and rise to your feet. In a Great Act Of Defiance, you decide to eat before doing what Cas asked. You’re a real rebel, alright.

You eat peanut butter on toast. You like that if the bread is hot enough the peanut butter melts a little. Then you eat one of the cannoli. And an apple. And a banana. And the leftover blueberries from breakfast. In fact, only once you’ve divested the kitchen of fruit (Castiel doesn’t keep junk at his place), do you go to the bedroom.

It mocks you. The drawer. It’s telling you that you’re a chicken shit and it’s right. You don’t need to be doing this. There’s literally no reason for you to do this. Expect that Cas told you to.

You sigh. You signed up for this. You don’t regret it, either. You enjoyed it this morning. You know that you did. So just shut your whore mouth and get rid of the toys that freak you out. Christ, it’s not nuclear physics.

Honestly, it’d be easier if it were.

After your pep talk, things go relatively smooth. You start with the buttplugs because that’s simple enough, you’d discussed them first during the checklist. You toss the largest one he’s got on the bed because you’re not interested in dying. It’s the same for the dildos but you also remove one of the smaller ones, just because you don’t like the shape.

Once you do that, the rest feels like more of the same. You pick up each vibrator and then put them back down, trying not to feel silly for picking up the ones you’re sure you’ll keeping just by looking at them. You continue through the rest of the gizmos and gadgets calmly, only squirming when you get flooded with ideas of just how Cas might want to use them. It’s almost therapeutic.

As far as bondage items go, you get rid of everything that has patent leather because you don’t like how shiny it is and how very sex club dominatrix queen (or something) it looks. There’s enough of the matt leather that you don’t think it’ll be a problem. You get rid of the rubber restraints that are so stiff you think they’d cut into your skin. You get rid of the cuffs that have fuzzy fur on them, even if its softness surprises you. If you’re going to be tied up you want it to be with classy stuff. Not something tacky even if you can tell that the cuffs are really good quality.

You get rid of the actual whip he has. Kinky, fucker. You get rid of a small pizza cutter style knife that has blunt points. You get rid of a wooden ruler because if Cas wants to do a professor role play so help you God. (You put the ruler back in the drawer.) You get rid of a gag that’s shaped like a penis and after a bit of hesitation you keep the ring gag.

Despite the healthy pile of things you did take out, what’s left outnumbers it by far. You’re about to close the drawer, but something gnaws at you. You leave the room only to return with post-its and a pen, all stolen from Cas’ desk. You write maybe on one and stick it on the ring gag. You write never before on another and stick it on magnetic spheres that mostly confuse you. You write out one more post it for the compartment of nipple clamps: Can’t really tell how intense these are, so we can work our way up? You black out the question mark because it’s not really a question, you decide.

You return the supplies to their places and settle on the couch again. Still, something gnaws at you. You go back to the drawer and remove the maybe post-it from the ring gag. You’d said on the checklist that you weren’t sure about it and you trust Cas to keep that in mind. This time, when you return to the couch, it’s with a deeply satisfied feeling.

The indicator on your phone flashes and you find you have texts and two missed calls from Cas.

20 minutes ago: How’s it going?

19 minutes ago: Are we having fun yet? ;)

10 minutes ago: Baby, I need you to tell me you’re alright

7 minutes ago: Answer me, now.

5 minutes ago: I’m going to call, pick up.

4 minutes ago: I need you to pick up, alright?

2 minutes ago: Im on my way

“Shit.” You click on the icon of a telephone at the top of the text conversation and listen to it ring once before Cas answers.

“ Thank, fuck. Are you okay? What are you feeling? ”

“Cas, I’m fine, seriously. I was, euh, I was, doing the thing, and I left my phone in the living room. No need to rush back.”

There’s an audible sigh of relief on his end of the line and it sounds like he slows down.

“I’m sorry, I freaked you out, Cas.” You say, guilt creeping up your spine. You had started to feel like you wouldn’t fuck up and yet…

“ I’m on my way .”

“Cas, I swear I’m fine.”

“ We’re almost done here. The rest is pretty technical, anyway, so I’m going to leave Dean and Charlie to it. I’m fifteen minutes out. ”

“A-Are you upset with me?” You just- you need to know. Need to prepare yourself.

“ What? No? Baby, no . I’m just- I’ll be there soon, okay? ”

“Okay, Cas.”

It’s barely ten minutes later that you hear the jingle of his keys outside. He doesn’t waste time at the door, dropping his bag, kicking his shoes off and slinging his coat in the general vicinity of the stand somehow all at once. Then he’s beside you on the couch, taking the water out of your hands, placing it on the table, and gathering you in his arms.

After a moment he pulls back so he can watch your face, which he holds in two large hands, while he asks, “How are you, baby?”

You grin at him. “Cas, I’m good. I see what you’re doing and, honestly, it’s overkill.” You all but stick your tongue out at him.

Cas searches your face for anything that might ring false. When he’s satisfied that you’re alright, he lets go of you and his eyes narrow playfully. “Overkill, huh?”

“Mhmm, if you’re not careful you’re going to drive me away with all this affection.”

“Is that so?”

“Yea-”

He pulls you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him (again). The position turns your entire body on like some kind of pavlovian effect. Jesus, even the dog needed more than one run through.

You kiss, gently, then hard, then gently again and your arms wrap around his neck like they belong there.

“I was thinking about you all day.” He says.

“Liar. You were probably running around like a chicken with its head cut off worrying about the experiment.”

“That’s true but my mind kept being tugged back to this pesky thing I left at home.”

“Pesky? And here I thought I was just unbearable.”

He kisses you. “You’re both.”

“You’re very good to put up with me, then.” You kiss him.

“That’s also true. What I want to know is if you were good for me.”

Everything changes, then. His eyes are on yours, just like usually, and his voice is the same as ever, but it’s different. You take a deep breath. You can do this. You practiced like a loser. They’re just words.

“I was.” You say.

“You were what?”

You don’t even glare this time. You don’t huff in annoyance. You don’t even call him a prick in your own head. You just take another breath and say, “I was good.” And then, “For you.”

Cas’ heart fucking pounds out of his chest and breaks a rib on the way. “Show me.”

You lead the way to the bedroom, your hand in his as he trails behind you. You steal a few furtive glances over your shoulder and sometimes you’re met with soft eyes, other times with a look of mischief.

He settles you on the bed and spreads out your no pile. Your heart is racing and you think Cas hears it because he grips the back of your neck, tilts your head up, and kisses you. He goes back to examining what’s laid out but he doesn’t question any of it. When he’s done he scoops it all up in a canvas bag he gets from and returns to his closet.

Next he opens the drawer and you know the huff of laughter is from the post-its. Of course, he thinks, you’re nothing if not thorough.

He looks around the room, after that. The sun beams through the two windows on either side of the bed. They’re narrow but start at the floor and go all the way to the ceiling so the light floods in easily. For a moment you wonder if he’s trying to choose what he wants to fuck you on. The space is minimally furnished so you don’t think it’ll take him too long to decide.

“Take out your phone.” He says from his place by the dresser, his tone serious, reprimanding.

“I- What?” Your brain short circuits. Did you screw up? No, you did good. You know you did, you picked up every single thing in that drawer and-

“Take out your phone.” He repeats, still stern but patient.

“Okay, yeah, okay.” You lean back, somewhat, to pull it out of your pocket and hold it out to him. What’s he going to do? Take a picture of the drawer and send it to everyone you know? Look at all the things she wants used on her. Of course he doesn’t want to do that. This is Cas. Not a creature straight out of purgatory.

Cas shakes his head at you. “Open it and go to our texts.”

Your hands move of their own accord.

“Read the instructions I sent you.”

“Okay?” You say, scrolling up. “You’re-” perfect. “I want you to go to the dresser and open the first drawer. Take every single toy in your hands and decide if yo- you’d like it,” You clear your throat, consider shooting Cas a pleading look, but ultimately continue, “If you’d like it u-used on you. Make a no pile on the bed. Pick the one from the yes -”

You stop, eyes wide and on Cas. “Cas, I-”

“Finish reading.” His eyes have darkened and he looks like a brewing storm in the sunny room.

“I- Okay,” You sigh. “P-pick the one from the yes es you’d like to try first and put it on top of the dresser.”

“Did you do that?”

“No,” You say, looking down at the floor.

“Did you do what you were told?”

You meet his eyes and whimper, “No, Cas.”

“Do you have an explanation?”

You’d forgotten but you say, “I, um, I just wanted you today?”

Cas’ demeanor steels even more. “Did you just lie to me?”

“What? No! I mean yes- I mean I didn’t mean to- I- I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t, I…” You trail off but by then you’ve crossed the room and plastered yourself to him. “I’m sorry.” You say again.

There’s a moment where Cas doesn’t say anything. It’s because he’s reeling a bit. You’ve taken to this so much more than he could have imagined, even if you’re still struggling with that fact internally. You can’t tell, though. In fact when Cas doesn’t say anything, you think you’ve really gone and ruined things.

Before you can spiral too much, Cas pets your hair and says, “It’s okay.”

He moves you away, even as you’re reluctant to give into his hands, so he can look at you.

“It’s okay, even good girls make mistakes, okay?” He’s gentle but very much in control.

You bristle. You don’t want to hear good gir- those words right now. “I’m sorry.” You repeat.

“I know you are.” With a grin that soothes you more than anything else has, he says, “We’re going to find a way for you to apologise alright?”

You nod. “Okay, Cas.”

“Okay,” He echoes then turns you both so he’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, and you’re facing the drawer. “Open it.”

You rush to comply.

“Good.” He squeezes your shoulders. “Now, pick the first toy you’d like to try.”

You nod but you don’t move. You don’t know what the right choice is. You don’t want to take something too safe, in case he thinks it’s a sign that you’re not all in. Because you are all in , you realise. You also don’t want to take something too-

“I’m going to repeat something I told you earlier, alright? Wrong answers are the ones that are lies and the ones you give because you think they’re what I want to hear. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Cas.”

He kisses the top of your head. “Pick the toy you’d like to try first.”

You take out a pair of leather cuffs. You don’t necessarily prefer them over everything else, but it’s a place you feel comfortable starting. You place them on the dresser, just like the original instructions had said and you hear Cas grunt softly behind you. He presses his body against yours and you feel him, half hard.

“You’re perfect,” He whispers in your ear making you tremble in his hands.

“M’not.”

Cas turns you so that you face him and firmly says, “I decide.”

You don’t know what to do, but you’re not about to argue with him. “Okay, Cas.”

“Good. Kiss me.”

You asked him just that earlier today but right now Cas is telling you. So you do the only thing you can do and kiss him.

When he pulls away, he steps back from you entirely. “Lift your shirt up.”

You grunt. “Cas, not again.”

He grins at you, glad that you’ve shaken your slump. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

“Fine.” You lift up your shirt so that you’re holding it under your chin.

“What’s this? No, no, that won’t do.” Cas looks almost offended to see the undergarment. “Take it off and take your bra off. Now.”

“Fuck yeah,” You half cheer, tossing your shirt to the ground followed by your simple white bra. You move your hands to the button of your pants but wait, expectantly looking at Cas.

He laughs. “Are we eager, babe?”

“We’re horny, babe. ”

“Take ‘em off.” He says.

“Yes, Sir .” You say sarcastically, dropping and kicking your pants off faster than you knew you could.

Cas would be impressed, if he wasn’t so distracted by the fact that you aren’t wearing underwear. And if his eyes weren’t narrowing at you for giving him lip.

He stalks over, very much how a predator would, and places his hands on either side of you, flat against the still-open drawer. He slides it shut backing you up against the dresser.

He leans down so his lips are near your ear, just a breath away from brushing against it. “You already have two things to apologise for,” He says, his voice deep, rough. “Do you want to make it three?”

You’re completely naked between the tweed clad arms of this handsome man who isn’t touching you but who is so so close it’s making you a little dizzy.

You say, “No, Cas.”

“Get on the bed, on your back.”

You expect Cas to watch you obey, he’s always watching you, but he shrugs off his jacket and walks into his closet instead.

You wait patiently once you’re settled. Well, you don’t really ever settle, placing your hands by your sides and then on your stomach and then by your sides, again, but you wait. You’re rewarded for it because when Cas steps out of the closet, he’s sans sweater, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone, and he’s rolling up his second sleeve, exposing his forearms and looking so damn good it might be a sin. It’s got your hips shifting involuntarily and you decide you’re going to ask the Human and Legal Resources at the school if it’s at least against the law to look so damn good.

If you missed Cas’ eyes before, which you realise that you did, you don’t anymore because they’re on you now, intent as ever. He moves to stand by the foot of the bed and places the tip of a finger in the crook just behind the knob of your ankle.

He watches your face while he drags just the tip of his finger up over the curve of your calf. He watches you bite- chew- your lip as his finger dips in where the back of your knee does. He watches your lashes flutter from trying to keep your eyes open- he loves that he doesn’t even have to tell you to- while he traces the shape of your thigh.

He glances down, just for a second, to see the way his finger presses into your flesh. Then, he’s right back to watching your face as your breath hitches because his finger is making its way up your body but also towards the center of it. Not enough, though. Not there. He smirks at you like the cat who got the creme tapping your hip bone twice almost chastising you for your dirty thoughts.

He follows the curve of your hip, of your waist, of the mound of your left breast. He circles your nipple once, twice, and it either hardens or it had already puckered. You don’t know. You’re not sure you care. You just want to be touched.

Cas knows, so he touches you. He pinches your nipple but there’s no bite. It’s more like he’s holding it between his thumb and forefinger and it’s weird but mostly it’s not enough.

“Cas,” You breathe out.

“Tell me, which toy you chose to have used on you first.”

Does he have to use all the fucking words? Is he trying to make you self combust? He could have said what did you pick or which item did you choose, but nooo Cas has to go and be an asshole. Asshole .

“You saw what I- Leather c-cuffs, leather cuffs!” You’re quick to rectify when cas squeezes your nipple.

Your hips buck off the bed and your heels dig into the mattress and you expect Cas to let go but he just continues to hold your nipple with the same pressure.

“Ask me.”

“W-wha-” He squeezes just a little harder and jesus fucking christ you feel it between your legs. “Alright! Okay, jeez. Cuff me- fuck. ” The pressure increases more as he twists his fingers this time. It’s a little painful but it’s mostly not and that’s freaking you out. “Please u-use the leather cuffs to r-restrain me.” You say, writhing all the while and Cas only has the tips of two fingers on you. Not even in you.

“To what?”

“What? Cas I don’t know, I don’t know okay, that’s,” You inhale because you haven’t been getting all the oxygen you need. “That’s my real answer, okay? I don’t- Whatever you want. Cuff me to whatever you want. I don’t care. ”

“Hmm.” Cas ponders for a moment, eyes on yours. “No.”

He steps back, taking his touch along with him and you want it back as torturous as it was. He goes to the dresser and puts the cuffs away.

“You disobeyed me earlier so you don’t get the help. You’re going to have to restrain yourself.”

He’s back by your side when he says, “Arms up, hold the headboard.”

Your hands fly over your head, your fingers gripping the wood of the bed frame.

Cas brushes the back of his fingers over your cheek. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

You choke a little but you sigh out, “Yeah, Cas.”

Cas moves away from you again but this time it’s to climb between your legs. He bends them at the knees and spreads them, making one hang off the bed. Then, very true to character, Cas looks.

He stares and when you squirm and try to close your thighs to try to hide yourself from his gaze, he holds them open.

“You won’t move.” He says without even glancing up. “You’ll let me look at you for as long as I’d like.”

“Why?” You complain and you hate how whiny you sound.

He grins then, sparing you a once over. “Because I want to and because I said so.”

His hand drifts up your thigh in a feathery touch, but when he presses his thumb between your lips to pull one to the side it’s with a contrasting firmness. You fidget at the feeling and Cas’ other hand smacks your thigh, packing a bit of sting.

“What? I kept my legs open.” The words come out of your mouth and you feel like a whore in a brothel saying them.

“I told you not to move.”

“Like at all?” Your eyes widen. “How am I supposed to do that with you touching me and- and looking at me like that.”

He shrugs.

“Cas, c’mon, you’re killing me here.”

He hums and says, “ La petite mort.”

“What?”

Cas moves his thumb so it’s right against your entrance and tugs gently at the rim.

You sigh, enjoying the sensation and trying to keep your hips from participating.

Cas pushes the tip of his thumb, not even to the first knuckle, just inside of you.

You breathe deliberately. It feels good, he’s giving you so little but it feels good.

“Cas,” You moan, a quiet little moan.

Cas wishes he’d already taken his pants off altogether but settles for undoing them with deft fingers, giving his straining erection some room.

He pulls his thumb out and you barely manage a grunt of disapproval before he’s pushing it back in, maybe a millimeter deeper than before. He rubs it along your opening and the slow pace of it all is absolutely maddening. Which you tell him.

“This isn’t just punishment, Cas. It’s damn torture.”

Cas looks away from where he’s working you over to give you a deceivingly confused look that’s all too knowing. “This isn’t punishment at all.”

“W-what? What do you mean?”

“This is your apology. I won’t be punishing you this time.” The hand on your thigh squeezes warningly. “Don’t think I’ll be as generous with my leniency beyond this point. I won’t tolerate you lying to me.” As an afterthought, because it is the lesser infraction in his eyes, he adds, “And I expect you to do as you’re told and not forget a task when you’re given clear directions.”

You nod a little too willfully. “But… Cas what you’re doing…”

He swivels his thumb and you just manage to keep from using your leverage on the headboard to take him in deeper.

“Are you not enjoying yourself?”

“No, I- I am, but-”

“Then it isn’t punishment.”

You nod, gasping as Cas draws his thumb out then pushes back in again and again, fucking you with it. Your chest heaves making it so that if Cas couldn’t hear your breathing, he can now see it. This time, when Cas pulls his thumb out, he glides it upwards to land and press on your clit.

“ Fuck. ” Your hips rolls, chasing the pleasure as sharp as it was.

There’s nothing for your hips to meet, though, because Cas’ hand is gone.

“No,” He says. “Don’t move.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” You make promises you don’t know you can keep.

His thumb returns to your clit but he also sinks his pointer finger into you. He goes so goddamn slow the feel of him is more agonising than not. You want more, you want so much more.

“Good,” He says when your only movement is the tremors of your body.

His thumb rolls your clit at a calm and steady pace but with varying pressure. The finger inside you doesn’t move at all. At first, it’s okay. At first, what he gives you is enough, you struggle to remain still, but it’s enough. You murmur to Cas that it feels so good and that he always touches so well . He’s got you panting and he’s got you forgetting to be embarrassed about it.

Then, minutes pass, however many, and you find yourself needing more. Needing anything more. You find yourself begging Cas quietly.

“Please, please, please, Cas, please, I- please. ”

Cas needs to physically restrain himself because seeing you like this does things to him. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to move, I want- please, Cas.” You thrash your head to the side, to keep from thrashing your hips, and press your face into the cool pillow.

So Cas moves but it’s as unhurried as everything else he’s done. He drags his index out, pressing along your upper wall all the while, then nudges it back in. Over and over and over and you can’t.

“ No, ” Cas snaps, taking his hand away and slapping your mound with it. It shocks you more than anything else but has you writhing on the sheets letting out a low groan nonetheless. Cas smacks your thigh this time, getting some of your wetness on it. His voice is deeper than usual, which you hadn’t thought was entirely possible. “I told you not to move.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You gasp when you manage to calm yourself. “I am, I’m sorry, Cas.”

“You asked me to fuck you with my finger, correct?”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah, Cas.”

“And what did I do?”

“It?” Even as you say the word you know it isn’t enough so when Cas raises an unamused brow at you, you shift and mumble, “You fucked me with your finger.”

“And what did I ask you?”

“To not move.”

“Did you do that?”

You shake your head but seeing Cas’ hand lift you quickly say, “No, I didn’t.”

His hand falls gently back to you, even rubs your thigh soothingly, spreading more of your slick onto your skin. You shiver beneath him.

“So you understand then, that you can’t be getting what you want, right?”

You suspect the question is rhetorical, but you don’t really end up pondering because Cas returns his hand to your pussy, thumb toying with your clit and finger buried inside of you. It seems contradictory to his words but when he doesn’t move inside of you, you get it.

“Cas, please.” You whisper. You strain your muscles to keep from shifting.

“Hmm? You want something?” He leans over you to place a teasing kiss on your lips.

“You know I do, come on, Cas.”

His tongue finds your right- right! - nipple.

“Cas please,” You take a deep breath. Cas likes it when you use words? You’ll give him words. “Finger me, Cas.”

He gives your breast a peck before leaning back. “That’s not going to be enough, sweetheart.”

“I won’t move, Cas. I promise. I’ll be- I’ll be-”

Cas smirks at you, his thumb unrelenting in its lazy circling of your clit. His other hand leaves your thigh to push his pants and boxer down enough so he can grasp his cock and stroke it leisurely. The sight has you moaning and purposefully not moving. Cas does feel you contract around his finger though and he lets out a small laugh.

“You’re so needy, baby. You’re desperate for it aren’t you?”

“ Yes, Castiel. ”

His full name on your lips is a rarity and it has Cas grunting out a fuck as he picks up the pace of the hand on his dick. The hand on you keeps torturing you just as slowly.

“What will you do to get it, hm? What are you going to do for me?”

You’re shaking now, but it’s a tremor that Cas can’t fault you for. “Anything, Cas.”

“Will you stay still for me?”

“ Yes. ”

“Good.”

This time, Cas fucks you. His finger thrusts in and out of you at a rhythm that can get you there. A rhythm that builds you up and up with the help of his thumb still sparking pleasure out of you.

To help you not fuck up into his hand you chant his name, you probably cuss him out a little too, you might pray to God once or twice. Your fingers dig into the wood above your head and you think this is how beds are broken. You keep your eyes on Cas the whole time. Either locked with his or following the movement of his hand on his leaking cock.

Cas stops fingering you exactly once. It’s a horrible moment where you think you might have moved despite your best efforts and now Cas won’t give you more, won’t make you come. It’s a brief moment, though, and Cas just ends up pushing two fingers from the hand that had been working himself into you, curling them and going right back to his dick, using your wetness to slicken the way.

It’s so hot, it’s so fucking hot that your entire body flares up. Your clit fucking twitches. Then the hand that had been on you all along comes back. He uses two fingers to pump into your pussy and you only feel the stretch a little because of how soaked you are, but it’s enough, hurts just right.

“You’re going to come,” Cas says, as if you were possibly unaware. “I don’t want you to worry about-” He pauses to moan. “About moving when you do.”

You don’t even manage a full nod before your orgasm overtakes you. It’s a good one too, the kind that you think might be fading but then peaks again. Cas is saying something all the while but it’s only when you come down that you tune into the words.

“-so good. Look so good. Feel so good. So good for me. Fucking, perfect. You’re- fuck! ”

Cas comes too, mostly on your stomach, some of it on your breast.

He leans back on his heels in his kneeling position to catch his breath but once he does his eyes are on you. You smile lazily up at him, still basking in the afterglow. Cas moves up your body, gives your left nipple a lick picking up a drop of come, then kisses you.

After a few moments, he slumps beside you and tugs you into his arms, bringing yours down, unbothered by the come he’s smearing between you. “You did such a good job, baby.” He tells you. “How are you feeling?” He brushes his fingers along your back soothingly.

You’re still sporting a silly grin when you tell him, “Really good.”

“That’s right, you did really good.”

You knock his shoulder with barely any force. “No, Ass, I feel good. That’s what happens after you get off.”

“That is the general course of action.”

You can’t be bothered with thinking up a retort and simply nuzzle into his arms. “You did really good, too, Cas”

The hand at your back stutters for a fraction of a second. “Thank you,” He says.

You push yourself up to your forearms and you’re honest-to-god impressed that they don’t give out under you because your entire body feels like jello. “I mean it. Since this morning, you were really patient and I appreciate that.”

He kisses you, long and soft and then he says, “You want another shower?”

“Yes, please, but I don’t want to get my hair wet again.”

You two lay there for a long while before moving to get cleaned up.

Later, Cas lays on the bed in boxers, his arm slung above his head. The sight of him is distracting, all long lines and taut muscles stretched out along the mattress, so you focus on getting yourself dressed.

“Have you seen my socks,” You ask as soon as you’ve buttoned your jeans, bending down to pick up your bra and t-shirt.

“I put them in your boots last night, right before we went to sleep.” True, they’d been scattered in your haste to get in each other’s pants.

“Cool, thanks.”

Castiel watches you slip your clothing on and almost audibly grunts in objection. There’s a little bruising on your left nipple and it looks so good on you. He wonders if it’s too early for rules like no bras in the house .

“We need to talk.” He tells you, sitting up.

You’re tucking Cas’ undershirt in your pants when he says this. You look up at him curiously and tap the first drawer of the dresser behind you. “About this?”

“Yes, about how it was for you.”

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?” You glide over to him, sit on the bed, one foot tucked under you and the other on the floor, mirroring him. You’re close enough that he can place his hands on your hips so he does. “You said it was good, I said it was good.”

“I think we’re a little more clear headed now, I want to make sure that’s still how you feel about it. I want to know if you’re interested in doing it again, in pursuing this further.”

You grin at him. “I’m very,” You push him onto his back, again. “Very.” You straddle his hips. “Very.” You kiss his lips. “Interested.”

He grins back at you. “In that case…” Cas flips the two of you, so that he’s the one doing the straddling.

“No, no,” You laugh, smiling the kind of smile you can’t suppress. “I gotta get going, Cas.”

He lifts his head from where he’s kissing your neck and frowns. “You’re leaving?”

“Gotta. Singer wants a diagnostic report on the latest variable shift by wednesday and I’ve barely started looking at the results from the last test run. Files are back home too.”

Cas leans down so his body presses into yours more firmly. “Let me ask again, give you a chance to change your mind. You’re leaving?”

You chuckle and crane your neck to peck him. “Yeah, Cas.”

He grunts and rolls off of you so you can get up.

“I have to go water my elephant ear, too, it’s been a few days.”

Cas sits up quickly. “You’re supposed to keep the soil of that plant damp at all times.”

“Huh,” You say with a teasing look. “Guess you aren’t the botanical expert you fancy yourself after all. In the winter, they say to let it dry out for rest periods. Something about fertilization, or whatever. I researched it.”

Your studio is nothing like Cas’ place. The entire thing could fit in his bedroom. It’s ill lit with the one window and the hanging overlight that seems to perpetually be swinging at least a little. Whatever light does get in gets swallowed by the exposed brick of the walls.

The window is directly across your front door. Below it, there’s a low and wide filing cabinet that you also use as a side table. To the left there’s your bed and at its foot a trunk. There’s a door on each wall that form that corner of the room, one leads to the bathroom, the other, the one next to the entrance, to a closet.

To the right of the front door there’s a dining table for four pushed up against the wall, with two chairs tucked in. There are a couple things on it at the moment, including a reading light, because it’s where you eat but it’s also where you get work done. The wall that runs perpendicular to the table-desk-hybrid is the kitchen. It’s lined with one long countertop that’s only interrupted by a sink, a refrigerator and a stove. In front of the very last cupboard, below the window, beside the filing cabinet, there’s the colocasia plant Cas got you, two months into the relationship. It’s more commonly called elephant ear plant or angel wings plant, because of the shape of the leaves.

You can afford a bigger place but you want to pay off your student loans as quickly as possible and rent seems like the best place to cut back expenses.

You kick off your boots and drape your coat over one of the chairs, then pick up a half full bottle from the table. You cross the room in roughly six steps and pour the water into the pot, cooing at it. You’d read a study that compared the growth and health of plants that received compliments daily and plants that were yelled at. You were skeptical of the results the article shared but figured you have nothing to lose.

You change into sweats but keep Cas’ shirt on and get to work. You get half of what Singer’s expecting of you done before switching tasks and finishing the powerpoint, even running through the presentation you’ve prepared once. It’s when you’re back on the report, with tabs that have nothing to do with it open on your computer, that Cas texts you.

What are you doing?

Working on the part.obs. for singer (procrastinating)

You do that a lot.

Aha are you going to call me a bad girl?

Fuck, why would you say that? Here you are having a very normal conversation. Not everything is about sex no matter how much Freud disagrees. It takes Cas longer to reply.

Would you like me to?

You think for a moment before replying. No

This time his response is immediate. Good, because you’re perfect.

w/e ur lame

That’s just not true. And then: What are you wearing?

Ahahahahaha shut up Cas

:P did you eat?

Not yet. I kind of ate ur kitchen earlier

Come over, I’m making carbonara

Im starting to see a pattern

Really? Which one is that?

The data points to an undeniable correlation between you trying to feed me and you trying to have sex with me.

Data doesn’t lie.

:P I think im gonna crash early

Worn out huh? How did that happen? You can imagine Cas smirking as he wrote this text.

This asshole where I work fifty shades of greyed me

Lucky guy. I bet he’s hung.

His ego is definitely inflated. Gnight cas

Goodnight

Read it on ao3

Chapters on tumblr: ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX

These lovely people asked to be tagged in this story (or my writing in general): @xleggo-my-elevenx @nickylarrywigetta @trexrambling @impandagrl @hannahindie [let me know if you’d like me to stop doing that]

#castiel x reader #dom castiel #castiel smut #castiel fanfiction #spn fanfic #as you're told #as you're told fanfic #as you're told chapter four #my writing #fanforfanatic

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