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red-talisman · 4 years

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An unbetaed snippet of post-CQL canon Yunmeng reconciliation, which is mostly extremely morbid and blunt conversation after beating each other hard enough that they’re too tired for their usual conflicting modes of emotional avoidance.

EDIT: now edited and posted on AO3. :D

CW for past suicidal ideation. Part of my “let WWX express some of his cynical humor and creepiness more often” and “let WWX find out about JC’s own sacrifice goddamnit” agendas.

___________________

Jiang Cheng stares blankly into the trees, their trunks slowly disappearing in the deepening darkness of twilight. Wei Wuxian’s back is warm against his and heaving for breath just as heavily. He thinks his ankle might be broken, but Wei Wuxian is probably worse off.

“You’re an asshole,” Wei Wuxian says thickly.

“Hypocrite,” Jiang Cheng mutters without heat, and Wei Wuxian manages a snort between his gasps.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he adds, with an echo of the old Yiling Laozu in his voice, “You know that if you ever do something like that again, I’ll probably find a way to do something worse than I did before.”

“If I do what, save your life by pulling the same fucking sacrificial shit that you do?”

“I swear to every god out there that I will bring you back as a fierce corpse and kill you myself,” Wei Wuxian says in a pleasant, albeit still somewhat breathless, tone. “I will dismember your carcass and make Jin Guangyao look like a fucking amateur.”

“Good thing Mo Xuanyu’s core isn’t worth shit, then,” Jiang Cheng replies. All of his attention is focused on the feeling of his brother’s bones and muscles moving against his own spine.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause. Somewhere distant Jiang Cheng hears the panicked yells of what’s probably the juniors they left behind a few li back. Then Wei Wuxian sighs. “We’re really fucked up.”

Jiang Cheng takes his time considering and discarding several possible responses. His ankle hurts like a bitch; Mo Xuanyu’s core may not be worth shit, but damn if his asshole genius brother hasn’t figured out how to make the most of it anyway. He finally settles on a tired, “Yeah.”

The silence stretches on long enough that Wei Wuxian goes on, more quietly, “You and Shijie are the only reason I didn’t die in the Burial Mounds. The Wens grabbed me before I knew whether or not you’d even survived the core transfer.”

Jiang Cheng tilts his head just enough to glance briefly over his shoulder. “How did you survive the Burial Mounds?”

“Nope, no, I’m not putting that on you. Not even Lan Zhan knows. I can’t...I can’t do that.”

“Fine. Then tell me, is any of it going to come back and bite us in the ass at the worst possible moment?” he asks dryly.

Wei Wuxian snorts, humorless. “Nah. It’s all mine.”

“Would you tell me if it wasn’t?”

When Wei Wuxian hesitates for a few telling seconds, Jiang Cheng mutters, “You fucking asshole.”

“Yeah.” Wei Wuxian sighs again.

“You left me.”

“You didn’t need me.”

“Who the fuck said that?”

The knobs of Wei Wuxian’s spine are starting to press painfully into Jiang Cheng’s. Wei Wuxian snorts. “I was practically a fierce corpse myself when I dragged myself out of the Burial Mounds. Your position as sect leader was too precarious,” he says bluntly. “You were seventeen years old with no real family, a sister who was getting married off anyway, and an adopted brother who’d been controversial years before the war even happened and who was clearly half-mad and getting worse. And I...my mind never really left the Mounds, honestly.” He coughs, makes a wet sound, and spits. “If I stayed much longer I was going to end up dragging you back into Hell with me. I was a risk you couldn’t afford and I wasn’t going to destroy Yunmeng Jiang a second time.”

"Don’t pull that bullshit, Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng is so, so tired. “Mother was wrong. You know Wen Chao was looking for any excuse. You’re as responsible for that as our shidi was for using a round kite.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t respond. Jiang Cheng makes a mental note to beat that nonsense out of him in the future, when he can lift his arms again and his ankle isn’t most likely broken.

But Jiang Cheng remembers what it was like to try turning weapons, human and sword alike, into tools of peace. There are still whole weeks of the Sunshot Campaign that are just smears of sense-memory: the cacophony of screams and curses; the reek of mass funeral pyres and the soft ash drifting through the air like black, silent snow; the startling warmth of being suddenly drenched in blood after Sandu sliced open another living human. Half the time he’d come back to himself laughing hysterically, unable to see anything through the tears on his face, and as the war dragged on, the tears eventually dried up. It had taken months afterwards to settle into the mindset of rebuilding for Lotus Pier. (If he’s honest with himself, he never really did settle there. There's always a part of him still dragging itself through mud made by blood spilled on battlefields and churned up by soldiers' boots.)

“Jin Ling’s the only reason I never actually killed myself after you died,” Jiang Cheng says. “...Don’t you ever tell him that.”

“Wait, what?” Wei Wuxian snaps.

“You saying I would’ve died without a core - it was never about not having a core, you idiot, not really.” Not to say that hadn’t hurt, and Jiang Cheng really doesn’t know how he would’ve managed life as a commoner. But there were still worse things to lose than a core, which had also just lost and was about to lose yet again. “I had a few ideas on how to do it, depending on where I was and what was available when I decided I might as well get it over with.” He huffs a brief laugh and idly rubs his thumb over Sandu’s hilt. “I thought poison might be a good option, if a little heavy-handed on the metaphor.”

“I’d be laughing,” Wei Wuxian says flatly, “if you weren’t talking about killing my little brother.”

“Am I?”

“You never stopped.”

The silhouettes of the trees start to blur in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “You left. You left, and everyone died, and somehow I was responsible for keeping our sister’s baby alive while the wolves tried to eat what remained of our sect from every direction. You left.”

“I never wanted to.”

“But you did.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe.”

“Because you chose strangers over family.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe,” Wei Wuxian hisses. Apparently they’re not so exhausted that they can’t get pissed after all. “I was hardly human anymore, Jiang Cheng. If I was going to die, then at least I’d die actually managing to save innocent people this time around and you would be safe from me.”

“I never wanted you to do that for me!”

“And I never wanted you to do that for me!”

The tension that had them both struggling to sit up straight suddenly breaks, and their backs collide again. Jiang Cheng grits his teeth against the urge to groan over the pain that ricochets through his chest and down his limbs. He hears a muffled yelp from behind him.

“You’re a damned fucking asshole and you’re my fucking brother and I hate you and don’t you ever assume you know what I need again, do you understand me,” snarls Jiang Cheng.

“You’re the damned fucking asshole and if you ever do that again then I will brand a reminder into your flesh right over the scar from the discipline whip,” Wei Wuxian snaps back, because he's never held back from fighting dirty if he thought it necessary.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

They both stare into the dark forest, in opposite directions. It sounds like the juniors have finally picked up their tracks. Useless, the whole lot - Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian hadn't exactly been subtle in stepping aside for a private conversation that inevitably escalated, how could it take the kids this long?

"Those dumbasses had better not forget that we're on a night-hunt," he says.

"Like we did?" Wei Wuxian replies.

"You started it."

"Did not."

"No, I'm not doing this with you."

"Hey, you started this one."

"Shut the fuck up."

They fall silent again. A cold breeze picks up and Jiang Cheng feels Wei Wuxian shiver, pressing back just a little more firmly against Jiang Cheng for warmth, and he...leans back too. Just a little.

"I'm still fucking pissed at you," says Wei Wuxian.

"And I've got years' worth to pay you back for," says Jiang Cheng.

"Fine."

"Sect Leader Jiang!" they hear. "Senior Wei!"

"If you don't show up for the mid-autumn festival," Jiang Cheng suddenly says, "I'll come drag you out of the Cloud Recesses by the heels."

"But the dogs - "

"Don't be an idiot. Jin Ling's dog is the only one allowed in Lotus Pier, you know that."

Well, come to think of it, Wei Wuxian probably doesn't know that, but whatever, now he does. Wei Wuxian is terrifyingly silent, but before Jiang Cheng can say something that will inevitably bring them back to throwing fists, he hears a quiet, "Yeah, okay."

"Do you think they killed each other?" they hear Lan Jingyi asking loudly. "I mean, Sandu Shengshou versus the Yiling Patriarch - who would win?"

"Don't be an idiot," retorts Jin Ling, and Wei Wuxian's body briefly shakes with a laugh. "My uncle, obviously."

"They're both your uncle, idiot!"

Jiang Cheng just sighs and lets his head fall back against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

#jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yunmeng bros #yunmeng reconciliation #through inappropriate and blunt conversation #this is not Trauma-Informed (TM)#i just wanted to vent some of my own feelings about them both #jukebox fic #mdzs

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luxekook · 5 years

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THE SEVEN || prologue

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: supernatural au with action, angst, smut, and (trace amounts of) fluff

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader fights to survive, attracts a powerful group of demons, and causes general mayhem in a post-apocalyptic new world

⇥ word count: 1.5k

⇥ warnings: nc17, *this fic has scenes of graphic violence*, demons, bloodshed, anarchy, general apocalyptic things, cursing, eventual poly relationship, a made-up language, hints of desire to own, brief mention of abuse, an attempt at world-building

⇥ beta reader: heathy @shadowsremedy - thank u so much!!! i was holding off on beginning this fic for so long, and you really helped me move forward! uwu<3

Prologue

The world has completely gone to shit, I think to myself as my blade slices right through my opponent’s eye. The responding roar of the crowd reinforces that thought as the lifeless body slumps to the ground.

Removing my bloodied knife from the man at my feet, I stand, exhaustion kicking in after yet another adrenaline-fueled fight. Gazing out at the surrounding crowd of humans and demons, I narrow my sights on tonight’s guests of honor – the seven demons who would decide if my performance was deemed worthy enough of payment.

Raising my chin in defiance, my eyes meet those of the pompous greed demon of the Ahgase Seven. Lim Jaebeom lounges on a provisional throne flanked by his six brothers. Their combined beauty is ethereal but leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

How is it that creatures so prone to evil can be so lovely to look at?

After glancing briefly at each brother, I finally make eye contact with Jackson Wang, the Ahgase’s pride demon. He inclines his head with a satisfied smirk, simultaneously permitting my payment and ordering my swift dismissal.

The callous disregard of my efforts never fails to ignite a familiar burn of fury within me. I fight to the death to earn a week’s worth of food and shelter, and all I get is a fucking nod in response? Complete and utter bullshit if you ask me.

My teeth grind together as I give the slightest and stiffest bow possible in the Ahgase Seven’s general vicinity and stalk out of the Pit. Reminding myself that I actively choose this fate never really helps, given that the alternatives are equally as shit – if not more-so.

Basically, since the planet lost three-fourths of its population in the Reaping, the old capitalistic way of the world is no longer. Now, the main ways to survive deal with what you have to offer as a resource – your body, your skill, your labor, your loyalty. I choose to fight because, for me, it’s the soundest option.

My prior life had been sketchy at best. I had taught Krav Maga, a form of aggressive self-defense and reflexive fighting, to teens and young adults. I also had used Krav Maga (and other more nefarious methods) on abusive parents or guardians, bullies, or romantic partners - the very reasons my students came to my classes.

My resulting ambiguously gray background probably had influenced heaven and hell’s decisions to leave me behind. Still, killing hadn’t come easy for me in the beginning, but now it seems like second nature. In this new era, there are no rules, no moral codes, no winners, no losers. There are only survivors.

And I’ll be damned if I am not one of them.

Last year, the Reaping left us all in chaos and confusion. The supernatural had become natural. Heaven took those deemed worthy and let Hell deal with the rest. But, as it turns out, Hell was just as picky.

For a few days, demons ruthlessly reaped millions of humans and dragged them below the earth. And then the reaping stopped. The humans that remained were left with burned cities, abandoned homes and a complete absence of law. They were a ruthless bunch with questionable backgrounds and ambiguous morals. It honestly made sense that they were left behind – myself included.

The short period after the Reaping brought with it a general mayhem which resulted in looting, fires, and general destruction. The remainder of society was bare-boned, with only the richest areas having luxuries like running water and electricity. I referred to this time period – the lull before the demon Sevens took over – as the pseudo-Hunger Games. I legit had to pull a full Katniss Everdeen in order to stay alive during those two weeks.

Then, finally, the demons rose again.

The demons that rose were power-hungry and desperate to prove themselves worthy to rule over the New Earth. They looked human until you got too close and felt the negative energy that emanated from them. It's almost a built-in warning for those lower on the metaphorical food-chain not to get close to a source of potential harm.

By possessing a demon of each sin category, Sevens were able to bond together and max out their powers. Often, Sevens took on courts and consorts to siphon additional power, but my intel on demons was mostly built on speculation and rumors. The general consensus seemed to be that humans joined demon factions because of the promise of protection, food, and other resources. However, no one usually survived leaving a faction led by a Seven once they had declared fealty.

I vowed to never willingly enter into a Seven’s territory. My freedom and independence were the only things I had left to hold onto. And that was how I ended up in my current situation as a fighter in the Pit, the rough, man-made arena where fighters battle to the death for winnings while the audience bets furiously on their selected victor. No one had bet on me at first, but they learned quickly.

The Pit’s existence sprung out of desperation for distraction. Humans and demons alike needed some form of entertainment away from the monotony and death embedded within everyday life. Located within the Neutral Zone, the Pit provided humans the ability to earn a living and to make a name for themselves. Those that fought in the Pit were only lower on the human totem pole to the Pit Master and to the merchants in the Neutral Zone. Below the fighters were the scavengers, the workers, the peasants, and the lost.

Marching towards the exit gate, I nod to the next competitor to enter the arena – it might be the last I’d see of them. Pit Master Agra greets me as I step through the gate’s threshold and finally out of the public eye.

“Good work,” she forces a smile that only looks like she’s in pain, “But, next time make sure there’s more blood.”

I say nothing.

Agra takes my silence as acceptance and jerks her head at the empty hallway, indicating my second dismissal of the day. “You have one week until your next fight,” she predictably calls as I make my way down the tunnel towards my makeshift room located in the fighters’ dorms.

I wave a hand carelessly behind me in a sign of recognition. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to challenge her in the Pit.

Pausing outside my room, I struggle to unhook my necklace that held my key. The blood on my fingers still has not fully dried, and I grow increasingly frustrated. I just want to bathe, goddamnit.

“Allow me,” a deep voice purrs from behind me. I shudder as two hands suddenly brush my own away from their hold on the necklace. Warm fingers brush the nape of my neck as the sound of a slight inhale meets my ears.

Fuck, I hope this person isn’t smelling me because I am almost certain the combination of sweat and dried blood is extremely unpleasant.

“There,” the voice rasps, “All done.”

My necklace is gone from my neck, and I turn to retrieve it from whoever just assisted me.

“Oh, fuck,” I hiss, taking in the demon before me. His teal hair is wild and reminiscent of a blue flame. His black eyes are large and slanted, fixed on me with a peculiar expression I just cannot place. His clothes are expensive. I peer closer, inspecting the intricate details on his patterned top. Was that Versace?

In this economy?

His arm extends to mine. My necklace dangles from one finger carelessly. “Here, mì shaìà (my pet).”

“My name is (y/n),” I grab the necklace and shudder when our fingers brush for a split second, “Not Mishaeya.”

The demon smiles. It’s large and boxy and completely predatory. “(Y/n). Mì shaìà. It doesn’t make a difference.”

Am I missing something?

“Listen, demon-dude, I just killed someone like five minutes ago. Can you stop being cryptic and just tell me why you’re lurking outside my room?”

“Ah, yes,” he stalks closer to me. My back hits the door to my room. He licks his lips, “I was watching you. You are quite the fighter, little one.”

“Little?” I glance down at my thick and well-muscled self, “Mhm, okay.”

“Are you not scared of me, mì shaìà?” His hand cups my chin, thumb darting out to wipe some blood from the shallow cut across my cheek.

“Should I be?” I front like my heart isn’t beating out of my chest.

“Yes,” he smiles before sucking the droplets of my blood from his thumb. “Surely someone as exquisite as you should need protecting. I’m surprised no one owns you yet, (y/n).”

My back straightens, “No one owns me. No one ever will.”

The demon’s head tilts as he silently studies me for a few moments. He looks like he almost wants to say something before he steps back and bows. “Sleep well, mì shaìà. I will be seeing you again.”

I gape as he walks away from me. A thought strikes me. “Hey!” I call after him, “What’s your name?”

He answers without looking back or breaking his stride, “V.”

a/n: i made up Deìthi, the language that the demons use in this story. i will keep a running list of translations at the bottom of each chapter as well as putting initial translations in parentheses following the first usage of the word.

Deìthi (The Language of Demons) Translation List:

Mì shaìà - My pet

#bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #180knet #hyunglinenetwork #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts au

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whosaskingwrites · 4 years

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Darling You're Glowing (Iwaizumi x Reader)

A/N: um so this one isn't really as sad as the others. Its mostly a Matsukawa x reader cause I got carried away (I'm not sorry Mattsun deserves this also I love soft!Mattsun) but thats also what provided the angst for Iwa. So rip Iwa I guess.

WARNINGS: Kinda angsty, bullying, depression is hinted at. Reader has zero friends besides Matsukawa. Reader is a bad bitch at one point and fucked a bitch up. There's some slut shaming as well as name calling. There's some cursing involved.

Date: Friday October 23rd, 2020

Details: 5.1 pages 1,890 words

Theme: Glowing heart- Every person has a glowing heart that they can choose to hide or make visible. The more love and happiness the person feels the brighter the heart glows. However the more sadness the person feels the dimmer it gets as well as cracks. When it breaks you can no longer feel emotions. A broken heart can be fixed by a declaration of love.

Angst masterlist

I stared at the glowing heart on my chest. It was so dim compared to the light from my bathroom down the hall. I looked at the jagged cracks that ran through it. Just a slight push was enough for me to be heartbroken and I couldn’t find it in myself to care. Having no emotions would make things easier after all in the three years I’d attended Aoba Johsai I only had one friend through everything.

I remember having two best friends in middle school. Iwaizumi and Oikawa but they had ditched me shortly after volleyball started using the excuse that they were to busy to spend time with me. I knew they were lying though. I had seen them hanging out together plenty of times and my friend, Issei Matsukawa was also on the team and he always made time for me at least once a week.

He of course was the only one who knew the state of my heart when he visited me by surprise one day. He made it his goal to keep my heart from breaking. Unfortunately Inter-high was coming up making him too busy and at this point I was going to crack. I sighed hiding the heart and getting ready for school when I checked my phone I had one text from Mattsun it was a short message asking me to stop by the gym after school today.

I responded back saying I’d be there as I left my house. Today was quiet as the bully in my class was absent for the day. It left me with a slightly better feeling as I headed towards the gym. I wondered if I ran into Oikawa and Iwaizumi what I would say to them. After all we hadn’t spoken in three years but I saw Iwaizumi stare at me during the day sometimes. As I approached the gym I texted Mattsun saying I was here. Before I could continue on my way a voice spoke up from behind me

“Oh looks it’s the slut,” I flinched as I was pushed to the side. The girls walked in front of me I recognized them from Mattsun's class when I occasionally waited for him. “Heard you slept with the swim team like a whore,” I spoke up but my voice was soft and quiet “I didn’t sleep with them,” the girl laughed “What? You’re gonna have to speak up,” She shoved me down to the ground harshly and I scraped my knee as I hit the ground a whimper of pain came from my throat causing the girls infront of me to laugh.

“Not like it matters freak. I’m sure Matsukawa only hangs out with you to sleep with you since you’re so easy,” I felt another crack to my heart and I knew one more push even a tiny one and I would be gone. I looked up at the girls then.

“Are you done?” I softly asked as the girl smirked “As if-" before she could continue the gym door slid open. “Hey! Leave her alone!”

A feeling of relief flooded through me as I recognized the voice. The girls scurried off but not before kicking me one last time causing me to release a shout of pain. I heard a series of footsteps rapidly approaching before a pair of feet entered my vision. He crouched down in front of me and cupped my cheeks forcing me to look up. I knew I had tears running down my face as my eyes met Mattsun's.

His eyes searched mine for any indication of pain before I spoke up. “Issei…Why am I here?” I whimpered out as I remembered what the girls said about me being easy. He didn’t answer me instead he said something else “Let me see,” were the words that left his mouth.

I sighed as I let the heart show. His eyes flickered downward quickly and he let out a quiet sigh of relief before pressing his forehead against my own. “I invited you here because I have something to tell you and I can’t keep it to myself any more,”

“What?” I asked as he sighed. I saw the tension running through his body as he kept his hands in place. It caused me to get nervous as my mind drifted. “He only hangs out with you cause you’re easy,” however the words that left his mouth next washed away every negative word those girls said.

“I love you,” I blinked once then twice then three times “You-" “I love you,” he cut me off as he repeated himself. I placed my hands on his wrists as I felt the chips in my heart fill and glow. I watched the light gold glow as it illuminated both of our faces just as bright as it was years ago. I smiled knowing he was telling the truth and then a giggly laugh escaped me. It felt like the fizz of soda or the splash of a wave the feeling of euphoria I felt knowing the person I loved also loved me.

“I love you too Issei,” I managed to say through a series of giggles. It was his turn to chuckle then his own heart produced a silver glow with the same intensity as my own it meshed well with the gold glow of my heart. The feeling of pure joy caused him to press a series of short kisses to my face stopping as he placed one against my lips.

He stood us both up then “Do you wanna stay for the rest of practice?” He asked and I thought it over before nodding. “Sure but its cold in the gym,” he smiled at me before gesturing towards the gym “head in I’ll be right back,” He ran off while I let out a soft sigh. I hid my heart as I walked into the gym so the glow didn’t distract the players. I snuck over to the bleachers watching my old best friends practice.

I frowned as I remembered helping Oikawa practice his serve and how I had fallen for Iwaizumi. Now the only feelings left for them were bitter ones about being ditched by both of them.

“Hey only significant others and people who were invited can watch practice not sluts who want to fuck the team,” I turned my head my eyes catching sight of Oikawa's current girlfriend of the week. I rolled my eyes “Good thing I was invited then. Now leave me alone please,” She scoffed as I looked away. “You stupid fucking bitch!” she screeched in a high pitched voice before she wrapped her hands in my hair.

She roughly pulled me to the ground and slapped me. However both her and I were shocked when I, still riding the feeling of adrenaline and euphoria from Mattsun, flipped us. I socked her in the jaw and punched her nose smiling at the feeling of it crunch under my fist. I stood up looking at the team with blood on my knuckles. I sent a glare towards Oikawa causing him to flinch at my face.

“Oikawa. Come get your bitch before I fuck her pretty face up more,” He looked thoroughly shocked by me addressing him by his last name and cursing as well as Iwaizumi. “y/n-chan,” Oikawa whispered as his brown eyes met my own e/c pair. My gaze hardened at the nickname “Sorry but we haven’t spoken in three years please don’t call me that,” the team flinched at the harsh tone from my voice.

I saw the girl get up from the corner of my eye and dash out of the gym before anyone could stop her. “Y/n why did you do that? What happened to you?” Iwaizumi was talking to me in an angry tone “One she started it and two what happened to me?” I let out a humorless laugh “No! What happened to my best friends!? Together forever? What a fucking lie. Three years. Three years I’ve had to stand by and let people abuse and bully me and not once did you guys come to save me like you promised!” I was yelling now anger consumed me washing away my previous feeling of joy.

“I have one person! For three years he kept my heart from breaking! And the worst part is the two people who promised to never let my heart break were the same two who cracked it first,” Oikawa and Iwaizumi flinched and the rest of the team stared at the scene in front of them. “Besides Iwaizumi. Why do you even care what happened to me? You’ve never called or texted me to check on me even when you saw me crying,” I narrowed my eyes at him “Hm? It hasn’t seem to bother you all this time so why does it matter!” My aggression from being abandoned came back in full force as I yelled at him.

“Because I love you!” he yelled back and all my anger vanished “I love you Goddamnit!” I blinked “You…you love me,” It came out as a statement and not a question but that didn’t matter as he nodded. “Well. You had plenty of time to tell me instead of abandoning me,” He looked at me there was desperation in his eyes as they searched mine. “Please give me a chance I promise I’ll never leave your side again I won’t let anyone hurt you!” I shook my head at him.

“I'm sorry but I’m happily with the person who hasn’t left my side for probably the worst years of my life,” there was a sense of authority and finality in my voice as I spoke. “Who-" before Oikawa could finish his question the door to the gym slid open. “Hey- What is going on here,” I looked at Mattsun he held his team jacket in his hands as he looked over the scene of Iwaizumi and Oikawa in front of me while the rest of the team stood behind them. My arms were crossed and I uncrossed them as I felt calmer. Mattsun's eyes zoned in on my bloody knuckles causing him to run over and lift my hand.

“Jeez who’d you hit?” he asked once he assessed that it wasn’t my blood. “Later,” I voiced as I looked at him. He smiled as he kissed me I smiled into it as I felt the giddy feeling return to me. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said when he pulled away. “Sorry guys this is my girlfriend Y/n L/n,” I smiled at the team as Hanamaki voiced something “Dude…You’re girlfriend fucked a bitch up,” Mattsun looked at me and raised an eyebrow “I’ll tell you everything later I promise,” I laughed “Let me see,” I knew he was worried and I smiled letting the soft gold glow take over as he looked at me.

I smiled at the way it lit up his eyes “Darling you’re glowing,” he voiced before kissing me again. I let the glow disappear again as he ran off to go practice. Iwaizumi looked at me with wide eyes and I looked back mouthing words at him and Iwaizumi for the first time felt his heart crack and dim at everything that transpired.

“Too little too late,”

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TAG LIST: @wonhomarshmallow

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #WhosaskingAngst

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hanawrites404 · 4 years

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Wynne’s Birthday Diary - Lunie Laurenze

"I really hope they make it here on time. But the chances seem to be so thin of them even arriving considering our relationship is...... convoluted" I sighed, placing the cookies inside. I was really regretting why did I even plan this for her. And why am I stressing out so much because of it. All of this was fucking frustrating and tiring to me.

"Chillax, Winnie. Lunie will definitely come. Her sister promised me that" The brown haired man propped his legs on the table in front of him and relaxingly leaned behind the couch.

I sighed, turning to the laid-back person with crossed arms. "Lunie can force her mind onto Ink very easily. Sad thing is that even after you literally bribed Ink with shiny sparkling feathers to bring her sister here, who knows if she would succeed" I coolly replied.

"You.....You saw that?!!" Nathan (@utopia-t) stiffened, and there was a pink tint on his umber cheeks.

"Yes I did. Very disgusting of you to greed a child like that" I teased him, a smirk on my lips. Nathan turned even more pink by my mockery, but then he scrunched his nose and growled and slammed his fist on my poor couch.

"Hey! First of all, I am older than you. I know what is right and what is wrong more than you. And two, bribing is not wrong. It's just like business. You just get extra good stuff out of them just like that. And Ink surely deserves some spoiling" he defended himself.

I chuckled and went over him to sit beside him, patting his shoulder. "Relax, Dear. Of course there is nothing wrong in spoiling kids over good jobs done. Just don't make it so frequent. You would then owe them a lot that you won't be able to even repay".

"Ugh jeez Wynne. Of course I know my limits. I practically raised two kids by myself, come on!!" He threw his hands while I rolled my eyes.

"Right right. And also let one of them almost choke in the quicksand" I smirked at him even more, and just like I expected, Nathan turned even more pink and speechless. I then started laughing heartily and wipe the tears of joy from the corner of my eyes.

"Stop, Damnit. Stop teasing me" he snarled. He has his fist balled up again and I could see his veins pulsating in his arm. Though it was far from scaring me, I obliged to his request.

"There there, calm your nerves down. We don't want you smashing my lovely table on someone's birthday, you know" With a wide threatening smile I rubbed his shoulders.

"Tch whatever, Woman" he punched my shoulder lightly, earning a laugh from me. Salette was really lucky to have a brother whom you can tease 24/7 but won't lift a finger on you. The only difference is that I on the other side was in a bit danger, but that's alright. It's not that I am scared of his mindless threats. Also I heard that he likes to charm women?? Hmmm....how am I not surprised haha!!

"Ugh you should be lucky that you are cute. Otherwise I would not have hesitated to destroy your fancy expensive house" Nathan huffed. I raised my eyebrow, glancing at him as he rested his head on the couch and behind his arms.

"Pardon me. Cute???" I asked from minor bewilderment.

"Ummm yeah. That's what I said" he replied.

I stayed silent, still not opening my mouth. Nathan clearly noticed it as he clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"Oh come on. You heard me nicely. You have clear ears" he elaborated. But still that didn't solve my problem.

Nathan then being the stubborn impatient kind grabbed my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. My hands landed on his chest with a thud and my eyes jerked up, a gasp escaped my lips.

"So you don't believe me huh, Blueberry?" His crimson eyes looked directly into mine. Oh no.........

"E-Excuse me?? But what do I have to believe??" The confusion was still on my face. But then it all got sorted when he lifted my chin up, our noses touching and our lips just inches away.

"Want me to tell you?" His whisper, huskily reached my ears. This just made me even more nervous than before.

I gulped, adjusting my position, but he was holding onto me by my waist now. He had a stern grip. It seemed impossible to withdraw.

Nathan closed up to me, our lips were almost going to meet. I wasn't ready for it, but didn't hesitate to close my eyes as well and brace for the kiss. The tension was hot, it was hitting my skin and arousing goosebumps on me. Nathan looked like it wasn't affecting him, because of how he still had his hold on me and his hands weren't shaking like mine.

I was not scared, I was rather bubbling from anticipation of what would Nathan do, but my expectations were destroyed when we were interrupted by the tingling classic London chime.

Of the doorbell.

"Oh fucking goddamnit!!" Nathan cursed, letting go of me and slumping back on the couch. While I just blinked twice, trying to get my system back, and then got up to walk to the door.

"Excuse me Dear" I simply sighed. Poor Nathan. I actually felt bad for him. I promise to compensate his disappointment later.

But nonetheless, I opened the door, and being half-surprised to look at the visitor, I greeted both of them.

"Well Good Evening Ink, Lunie" I said. Lunie (@boiling-potato), as usual, dismissed my salutation and looked away with a 'hmph', but her sister on the other hand, happily returned the hello.

"Good Evening Wynne! It's really good to see you. And you are looking really nice today ^w^" said said. This lit up a smile, as I let both of them com inside my house.

"Why thank you Dear. It's lovely to hear from you too" I grinned back, closing the door. Hmmm....it was kind of warm outside. Maybe due to spring change.

"So....why are we here again??" Lunie crossed her arms and looked around. She sounded as if she was forced to arrive here. Nothing out of unusual at all, actually.

"We are here to celebrate your birthday, Lunie! Wynne and Nathan organised it for you ÒwÓ" Ink replied. Lunie was unamused, as she just sat on one of the couches and kept her head on her hand, disinterested.

"Whatever" she said. I didn't even care actually, because I had already given up and tired. Jeez, edgy kids these days.

But suddenly Nathan appeared behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He had a bright smile on his face.

"Hey come on now. It's your birthday! Birthdays are nice! You get to party, have fun with friends, get drunk and might even find a nice boy to-"

Before he could even say anything further, I slapped his mouth shut. Seriously this man bitch doesn't even know how to talk to children sometimes. Ugh Stupid Human.

"And do what?? What do we do with a nice boy OwO?" The ravenette asked. Oh shit, here we go again. Come on Wynne, think of something.

"W-We just greet him a good night, that's all haha!" I smiled at her, but on the inside was boiling from pique.

"Oh! Ok! ^w^" Ink thankfully didn't question it further and settled down. I then let Nathan go, glaring at him for a second, before I went to the kitchen to get the cake. I knew Lunie didn't want to stay here much because of how much we both pissed each other, so I wanted this to get over with quick.

Meanwhile I kept hearing Nathan talking with both Lunie and Ink. He kept entertaining them with chats and jokes, and was doing surprisingly well. That was good. Looks like it was a nice idea to bring him over. Otherwise it would have been pretty awkward if I was by myself.

"What's a cat's favourite colour??"

"What? -_-"

"Ooooooh what OwO??"

"Purr-ple!!"

"ರ_ರ"

"HAHAHAHAHAHHAA nice one, Nathan (≧▽≦)"

Hah......dorks...................

Soon the cake was brought on the table, and the birthday girl was settled right in front of the spongy dessert. The cake had the flavour of chocolate cookies and sugary cream, and it was adorned with dark chocolate musical notes. The cake was white and dark brown, and it had seventeen blue candles on it.

"........The cake looks good" For the first time I heard Lunie saying one positive thing for the whole day. It brightened my mood quite a lot, and so with Nathan. Since we both were the ones who made the cake, and our star for tonight was satisfied. And nothing else could have fulfilled us more.

"We are glad you liked it" I replied. "Thanks Lunie! I hope you would love how it tastes too!!" Nathan beamed. Ink was amazed by the cake, her eyes were literally sparkling. It was adorable to watch. Lunie just nodded to us, as she closed her eyes next, ready to make her wish.

"Let's get this over with" and then she blew the candles.

Happy birthday to you~

Happy birthday Dear Lunie~

Happy birthday to you 💙💙💙💙💙~

The cake was cut, and was shared. We all enjoyed the dessert. It was pleasantly sweet, not too sugary and not too bland. It was perfect with the soft cream and cookie crunch.

Ink was the happiest one among us all. No surprise again. She loved the cake and the other food me and Nathan had prepared. And she had a lot of fun during games and the present time.

And speaking about presents, Nathan gifted Lunie a recipe book of making different types of desserts. So that she could be self-reliant and learn how to bake what she loves. I actually knew the book, because my father used to have it. Obviously he never followed it, and even if he did, something always went wrong. Lunie seemed pleased though, and that's all that mattered.

At last it was my turn to gift her. And for my part I had given her a navy blue oversized shirt with white musical notes. Come on. Fashion is how I roll, and considering Lunie loved baggy clothing, I had to create one for her with every love I can put into it. And to be candid, I had much delectation with weaving every fibre of it, and truly hoped that she would love to wear it once.

Lunie might be unnecessarily audacious, however she was still relatable to me because she somewhat felt like myself. Those broody eyes, that lethargic expression, the introverted testy approach, reminded me of me. All I had to say was, Lunie is like my sister too. No matter how much we hated each other's guts.

But the most surprising thing for today was how Lunie actually enjoyed the occasion. She said that it wasn't too loud or crowded, and it was rather diverting and a nice distraction from annoyance. This was of course a compliment, even though Nathan didn't look really satisfied by it haha!

But I had fun. And so did the others. The rest of the night went well, with all of us chilling and talking about the early days and future nights. At the very present. All of it together.

#the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice #wynne toprak #arcana mc #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #ink #lunie #lunie laurenze #🥔#nathan dahab #what I wrote

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dekuscrybaby · 5 years

Note

Could I request a super shy reader asking out Bakugou ? Scenario or hcs ! Whichever you like ! She’s like super nervous and just ends up going on a rant on why she likes him and asks him out and he just blushes and says yes . I hope that’s not too specific or something >.

y’all be giving me too much freedom, like tell me to choose one format over another and you will end up getting both because that’s just the type of clown that i am! also, i’ll kinda be loosely basing this on me because i’m pretty shy myself, but i’ll keep it as general as possible! also pls my friend, i have none so feel free to privately message me or we can chat through asks i don’t mind 😌 also, i think i went a little overboard with the “scenario” but i’m not all that sorry bc i love my feral bby but also the scenario is kinda booty so sorry about that

(ps this is literally bakugou as you confess/rant to him)

out of the billions of people you could’ve had a crush on, your heart probably chose the worst person

bakugou katsuki, a very angry gremlin if you please

and i’m not saying that bakugou is ugly or anything

it’s the complete opposite actually, hence why you have a crush on him

bakugou’s physical appearance is far from ugly, he’s hands-down one of prettiest boys in your class

that being said, his personality can be considered an acquired taste

as kaminari once said his personality is comparable to “flaming hot garbage”

but that didn’t stop you from liking blasty boy

your friends know about your crush bc it’s just obvious to them and pretty much everyone else (except bakugou)

you’re always asked “what is there to like about bakugou?”

well, what isn’t there to like?

his ash-blonde hair always looks so soft, you just want to run your fingers through it

his eyes are just so beautiful and you want nothing more than to stare into those ruby orbs for hours and hours

his physique is just so amazing and let’s not get you started on how bad you want his muscular arms to wrap around you

and his thighs? phew, please! is it getting hot in here or what?

answer: it is getting hot and by that i mean your face has lit up all shades of red

confessing to crushes is usually hard regardless of how confident a person is but it’s even harder for you because you’re the shyest person in class a

you’re so shy that you’re just known for your blushy cheeks which turn even redder when you’re in the presence of lord explosion murder

you probably even struggle to get a full sentence in when you’re “talking” to him

you guys know how izuku stutters right? well you’re worse than that

you just have the FATTEST crush on this blonde douchebag

so what do your friends do about this crush?

they do what all friends do for their introverted friends with a huge crush on a huge ass extrovert

put you on the spot

*insert your shy ass mentally screeching*

to be fair, you’ve been crushing on bakugou since like the beginning of the school year

something has to happen before your entire class just decides to scream at bakugou about your very clear crush on him

for the sake of a chaotic confession, i’m gonna say that you’re apart of the bakusquad with mina being your best friend

and mina being mina, she’s SICK of your shit and wants you to tell katsuki how you feel

so what does she do?

she shoves you into the janitor’s closet with bakugou

will not let you out until you spill everything

“hey! raccoon eyes! you better let us out before i fucking explode your ass!” bakugou growled as he pounded on the metal door, obviously he was caught off guard. he was just walking back to class with you and your guys’ friends before mina’s crazy-ass pulled you back and shoved you into a small room.

“not until y/n fesses up!” mina shouted back, pulling on the door handle with all her might. she’s doing this for you, it’ll only help you and bakugou, it’s a mantra mina keeps going over in her head. hopefully, a mantra that will prevent her from being killed by the furious blonde.

“what the hell do you mean fesses up?” the blonde bellows out, still pounding at the door.

as they’re screaming and cursing at each other, you have your face hidden away in the sleeves of your school jacket. your face is the reddest it’s ever been and your mind has never spilled this many thoughts until now. your brain is so overwhelmed that there is practically no filter between your brain and your mouth so at this point you’re babbling on endlessly.

it’s not very loud, probably only loud enough for it to be heard in the small room you’re currently in, but that’s where the problem lies.you’re babbling on and on about your huge crush while he is in the same cramped up room as you are. to make matters worse, you guys are completely alone.

“what do i do now? i’m completely alone with the hottest guy in not just the class but probably even school. is mina really not gonna let us out until i tell him i like him? i mean she can’t keep us in here for too long, right? of course not! class is bound to start soon and she has to go to class. plus she has to let us out before mr. aizawa comes to look for us or something. then again, me confessing can’t go that bad. i mean what’s the worst that can happen? well, if i do end up confessing, then there’s a high chance that bakugou might not even like me back and then everything will be super awkward. he prob-”

you probably would’ve continued to rant on if it weren’t for bakugou’s rough voice pulling you out of your verbal thoughts, “what the hell are you going on about?”

you snapped your head up in the direction of your voice, “huh?”

“you heard me, rosy-cheeks. what are you going on about?” he questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

“r-r-rosy-cheeks?” the new nickname just made even more blood rush onto your already blushed cheeks.

bakugou rolled his eyes a bit, “yes, rosy-cheeks. your cheeks are always red so it suits you.”

“oh! uh, thanks i guess?” you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, not knowing how to respond to the slight compliment you received from your crush.

a quiet snicker could be heard from the opposite side of the door and that ended up provoking bakugou’s short temper.

“fucking let us out, you used tampon!” he began to yell again. (i couldn’t think of any other nicknames)

“i said i wasn’t letting you out until ms. rosy-cheeks confesses!” mina retorts, matching the level of intensity of katsuki’s voice.

“huh? and what should she be confessing?”

“i don’t know, bakugou, maybe you should ask her instead!” now it was bakugou’s turn to snap his head towards you.

“spill, y/l/n.” he said, his voice much softer than it was a few seconds ago.

“w-what?” you stuttered.

“the faster you tell me whatever mina wants you to tell me, the faster we can get out of here,” he grumbled as you began twiddling with your fingers.

“i-i can’t.”

bakugou sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “what do you mean you can’t?”

“i just can’t, bakugou.” you whimpered quietly.

“y/n, class is going to start again in less than ten minutes and i don’t know about you, but i don’t want to be held up after class by aizawa.”

“i’d rather be held up later than tell you,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, fearing that you’d make him upset.

“goddamnit, y/n! just tell me! it can’t be that hard!” he raises his voice and ultimately, this causes something in you to snap.

“okay, okay! i like you, okay? i’ve liked you for so long that it’s actually embarrassing. it’s just that you’re so cute and something about you just has my heart beating out of my chest. i always feel short of breath and lightheaded when i’m around you and i can’t do anything about it. you’re also so so smart and im actually jealous.” you drew in a quick breath before continuing.

“sure, you might not have the best personality ever according to others but i still find your ‘garbage-like’ personality drawing me into you. do you know how many times people come up to me asking why the hell i like you? it’s quite a shocker for them to hear that i basically like everything about you.”

“i like your spiky blonde hair that is probably super soft. i like your eyes that are the most beautiful shade of red and i always find myself lost in them whenever i look into them for even the briefest moments. i like how passionate you are about your goals and i like how you give your all to reach them. you’re just so amazing and i always find myself wanting to confess to you, hoping that you might feel the same way. i would just absolutely love to call you my boyfriend, you know?”

you finally concluded your rant after what felt like an eternity and for some reason, you forgot about the situation at hand. once you realized that you actually said everything out loud, you felt your entire body heat up. this has to be a dream. or maybe someone used their quirk and caused you to say all of that. not missing a single beat, you glanced up at bakugou, only to find him the same position as you. cheeks and even ears, a bright red that could easily rival midoriya’s sneakers.

“i-i-i, uhh…”

“tch,” bakugou interrupted what could’ve started another rant. “you could’ve just said so earlier.”

“what?” you stared at him with a gaped expression as his cheeks heated up even more,

“i’m just saying, you would’ve said this earlier…then maybe i would’ve been your boyfriend already,” bakugou mumbled as one of his sweaty palms, cradled the back of his neck.

“a-are you serious?”

“do i look like a liar to you, rosy-cheeks?”

“well, uh, no?”

“damn right. now let’s get to class, i’m pretty sure raccoon eyes heard the entirety of your rant and if she reacted anything like me, then she should be satisfied.”

you were still too shocked to properly digest what just happened that you for some reason didn’t feel bakugou take your hand to lead you out of the janitor’s closet. after you walked out with him, you turned your head and noticed mina grinning at you, congratulating you on what was your new relationship with the boy you’ve been pining over for ages.

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writingwithadinosaur · 4 years

Text

“Under the Knife” - Part 6

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 3,500-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Death, Murder, and Violence

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List:

@fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude @ntlmundy @a-person-unlabled

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The last few days were weird for you. While working the Virginia Scalpel case, you still had to give lectures and work the occasional museum shift. Luckily you were able to give more and more of your museum shifts to your coworkers, saying that you needed the time to focus on the case or to finalize your lecture outlines.

Between two lectures and a museum shift, you were able to narrow down your suspect list even more. Pulling every male doctor within a 50-mile radius who fit the height range and who wasn’t super young, old, or generally weak looking. You dropped it off to Jack’s office while he was in a meeting of some sort, thankful that you wouldn’t have to talk to him just yet.

After that night at the Pencalt crime scene, things seemed to take more energy than you expected. You could get up and function through your work day, but when it came to socializing or even having to have work related conversations, you found yourself doing them through email or not at all. This included talking to Hannibal or Will.

Both of them had tried calling or texting you, and you’d try to respond with a “Can’t talk right now,” or an “I’m busy.” But sometimes you didn’t have the energy and straight up ignored them.

You knew what they wanted to talk about. And you had to admit that after letting it settle in your brain, you wanted to too. But you knew that that conversation would be a long one that required patience.

Which is why you decided to call in sick and work from home today. You weren’t scheduled a lecture or a museum shift, and everything you planned on doing in your office could be done at home.

You understood the urgency of this case. The team only had about a week left to catch this guy before another doctor would be found in pieces. But you weren’t the only one working this case, and you were still waiting on results from Beverly, Price, and Zeller. So you justified taking today a bit slower and tried to fit in some breaks for self-care as you worked.

The day started out with a peaceful breakfast, something you hadn’t had since before you joined Jack’s team. It was different and odd feeling now, but you tried your best to enjoy it and let your mind relax. After you put your stuff in the dishwasher, you sat down where your work stuff was set up at your dining room table, and felt your mind wander.

I know I should talk to Will or Hannibal, but that would be so draining right now. No. Just focus on breathing and getting as much as you can done today, alright, (Y/N)? We don’t need you combusting over personal shit while your killer is still out there. Now, what haven’t we gone over yet?

You started to sift through some of your scribbles as a piece of paper slid out of place from within your notebook. You slightly tilted your head and pulled the paper out, seeing that webname that you had learned to hate.

“Tattle Crime”

You were going to shove the article back into your book, but you knew that your curiosity would only grow the longer you didn’t read it. With a disapproving sigh, you went ahead and read the article.

Freddie Lounds didn’t spend much time talking about the killer. She states that Dr. Pencalt was found like the other victims, and how he was a doctor with no obvious correlation to the others. Her “article” tends to focus more on you, Hannibal, and Will.

“Much like her brother Will Graham, who we have talked about before, (Y/N) supposedly has a gift for the psychologically strange and unusual. But we have to wonder why he isn’t working this case? Will Graham has successfully assisted Jack Crawford and his team on multiple cases in the past. So why bring on a rookie when you have a prized horse in the stables?

Maybe that is why Crawford decided to bring in Dr. Lecter, who was also an integral role in some of the cases that Will Graham had worked on. He has years of medical knowledge outside the realm of psychology that could be helpful in this case, considering the Virginia Scalpel is suspected to have a medical background.. Maybe he will be the key to locking the Virginia Scalpel up for good?”

She then went on to talk more about Hannibal before bringing up the case again. You couldn’t even fully grasp at what you were reading or how to feel about any of it before your phone rang beside you, bringing you back to reality. Only, you didn’t really want to deal with reality when you saw that the caller ID said “Jack Crawford.”

“(Y/N) here.” You tried your best to not sound unenthused, but you couldn’t help the obvious apathy in your voice.

“How soon can you get here?” You knew that this would end with you coming into the office for who knows how long, so you begrudgingly stood up and started to try to find a comfy but work appropriate outfit to change into while talking to Crawford.

“I mean… An hour? Maybe? Give or take 10 minutes. Why? What happened?”

“Got that evidence you were waiting for.” You couldn’t discern if he was at all happy about that.

Of course the one day I try to take it easy is the day we get results. You took a deep breath in and tried to form a coherent sentence.

“I--Uh… Okay. I’ll try to--”

“I’ll see you in the lab in an hour.” Jack interrupted and then hung up before you could say much else, knowing that that was an order, not a suggestion. You put your phone down and groaned before starting to get dressed.

~~~~~~~~

Pulling into your normal parking spot, you saw that you had made it to the office with 15 minutes to spare thanks to you not having the energy to do your hair or makeup today.

You got to your office and left the door open, knowing you would only be there for a minute or two. While you unpacked your bag, you heard someone clear their throat from your doorway. Turning around, you saw Will standing in the threshold with two cups of coffee.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” He tried to joke, but you just shot him a look. He winced and extended one of the cups out to you. “Peace offering?”

You sigh and accept the cup, not sure of what to say other than a quick “thanks.” Will stood there while you took a sip and continued to set up your stuff.

“You haven’t answered any of my texts.”

“I’ve been busy. And I’m still quite busy. I have to go and meet with everyone in,” you look at the clock on the wall. “5 minutes.”

“Jack’s really got his hooks in you, huh?”

“I tried to take a sick day and work from home, but lab results are in. Which means I’m also in.”

“Sick Day? You never use sick days.”

“First time for everything, I guess.” You turn around and try to walk past him but he stops you.

“(Y/N), I-”

“I really don’t want to talk. At least not right now. You and Hannibal are on thin ice right now. And there are more important a-and time sensitive things that need to be taken care of.”

“Look, (Y/N), I can explain--”

“Explain what exactly? That you really didn’t trust me when I said that I could handle myself? That you really think I am going to let Jack push me so much during my first real case that you had to have Hannibal step in as some sort of watchdog? I know you’ve had bad experiences with Jack, but goddamnit can’t you just let me learn and experience whatever happens on my own?”

“You’re upset--”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“And I-I get that, but just--”

“No. I have a job to do.”

“Then come by the house later. Have a drink, o-or we can get takeout, and I can tell you my side of the story.”

You paused as you looked down slightly and started to fidget with your ring. Will is looking in your general direction, trying to figure out how to ease the anxiety that was surely coursing through your amygdala and hippocampus, or at least some of the resentment that had fought its way through your eyes.

“Even if you don’t want to talk and we end up just sitting around, I’m sure the dogs would like to see their favorite aunt.”

“I’m their only aunt.” You both smiled at the joke. His smile was more out of relief while yours was just a quick smirk. His fades quickly as you rub your face and sigh out, “We’ll see. I have no idea what’s waiting for me in the lab. So I can’t promise anything. And as upset as I am with you, I do miss those dogs.”

“Just let me know when you decide and we will make time for it.”

You just nod and he lets you walk past. Will follows you out and closes the door behind the two of you. Before you could hit the elevator button, he spoke out to you.

“Despite what you think, I do care about you, you know.”

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face him. You could see the pain on his face even though you know he was trying to hide it. Your heart broke as you took a large inhale.

“I know you do. We’re family. We’ll always care about each other no matter what.” You give him a small smile to try to reassure him that what you were saying was true. He nodded and headed back towards the lecture halls and you hit the button to call the elevator, preparing yourself for as much insanity as you could.

~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N), right on time” Jack announced as you walked into the lab. Everyone was there and ready to go, including Hannibal who was on the other side of the table facing you. You hoped that he wouldn’t put together how off you were feeling today from your rushed appearance.

“Sorry, I would have been here sooner, but I had a run-in with my brother. What’ve I missed so far?” You opened up your notebook and joined the circle around the exam table that had Dr. Pencalt’s body on it. You internally winced as you realized that Hannibal was most likely going to ask you about your ‘run-in’ with Will after this meeting.

“Nothing yet. We were just about to start.” Zeller spoke up as he clapped his hands together and began his presentation. A lot of it was information that was similar to the previous victims. All of the cuts were made with surgical tools to ensure clean cuts, no obvious mutilations outside the killer’s usual, all focus was on the doctor as opposed to his wife, and so on.

“The paralytic that was used on Dr. Pencalt was the same as the other vics. It was a high enough dosage that he felt the effects within a minute or two.”

“Do you have the location and angle on the injection point?” Zeller nodded and handed you a printout that had various information about the small needle mark: diameter, insertion angle, depth, et cetera.

“He was pricked right here.” He used a gloved hand to turn Dr. Pencalt’s head and point to a small dot on the side of his neck. You just nodded and tried to imagine the killer coming and attacking him. You were starting to solidify the height range of your suspect.

“The angle is pretty flat, which means our suspect is either the same height as him or maybe an inch taller or shorter. How tall was Dr. Pencalt?” You heard Jimmy open a file and hum a note as he found out.

“5 foot 11.” You nodded and saw the height range of the shadowy silhouette of the killer in your mind narrow.

“So our killer is between 5’10” and 6’.”

“Is that all?” Jack asked in an audibly annoyed voice. You weren’t sure if it was directed at you specifically or at the situation in general. Jimmy, Brian, and Beverly all looked at each other as if they were kids who had broken an expensive vase and had to tell dad. Beverly was the brave kid that stepped forward.

“No. There is one more thing.” She turned around and got a tray from the other side of the room, bringing it back to the circle. “This was found lodged in his throat.”

On the tray, there was a distorted but still legible article from TattleCrime.com, the same article that was in your apartment. The only major difference was that this one was highlighted wherever it mentioned Hannibal or you.

“We tried to pull any sort of prints or DNA off of it, but the only thing we got was Dr. Pencalt’s blood and saliva. The article is from our favorite tabloid, Tattle Crime. It’s about the case, but it also talks about (Y/N) and Hannibal...”

You tried to control your breathing as Beverly kept speaking, forcing yourself to take slightly deeper breaths than normal hoping no one would pick up on it as you finally spoke up.

“So, fun story…” Everyone’s eyes landed on you. “I have that same article printed out, but I didn’t print it. Someone slipped it under my door the other night.”

You saw Jack readjust his stance, a frustrated look growing in his eyes, and started to speak, but you cut him off, already knowing where this was going.

“I didn’t bring it up because I honestly thought Hannibal or Will had slid it into my apartment as a way to try to scare me and make me resign from the case. For personal reasons, I have avoided talking to either of them unless it was absolutely necessary. So I never confirmed my theory.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Hannibal or Jack. But if you had, you would have seen the small bit of guilt in Hannibal’s face. He knew no one else would pick up on it because he was a master at keeping his mask on to others, but after being with him as long as you had, you could see between the cracks.

Jack looked towards Hannibal.

“Dr. Lecter, did you send the article to (Y/N)?”

“I did not. I’m just as taken aback as everyone else here.”

“And did you receive a copy of this article at any point during the last week?”

“No. I have not read anything from Miss Lound’s website for a significant amount of time now.” Jack took a breath in and tried to be logical and figure out what the next step needed to be.

“Alright, you guys get me a list of every medical facility that supplies that paralytic. (Y/N), get your copy and give it to Price to see if he can get anything off of it. Then I want you and Dr. Lecter in my office.” Jack walked out before anyone could say anything.

You stood there in a bit of shock as you looked at the soiled article in front of you. You tried to read through the bits of blurred text. Everything involving you or Hannibal was doused in bright yellow marker.

“Um… (Y/N)?” You couldn’t help the small instinctual jump as Jimmy tapped your shoulder. You quickly looked to him, trying to look okay despite learning that your name was literally in a key piece of evidence. “You okay?”

“Hm? Y-yeah! I mean, not really, but we’re not gonna talk about that right now.” You let out a forced exhale that you tried to make sound like a chuckle through a very forced smile. Before Price could ask anything else, you spoke up. “Here. It-its right here.”

“And you were the only one to touch this, right?” Price asked as he carefully grabbed the corners of your Tattle Crime article with clean and gloved hands. You just nodded in response. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

You mutter a quick thank you and then make your way back to the elevator and back to your office to write out your notes on the killer’s more specific height range and the highlighted sections of the article in your notebook.

Why us? I can somewhat understand Hannibal being chosen from an occupational standpoint. He is not only a psychiatrist, but he used to be a surgeon. But he has no ties to any of these other doctors. And what’s so special about me? I’m not a doctor of any kind. I don’t fit the killer’s m.o.

Your mind kept going on this internal monologue, trying to find any solid reasoning as to why both of you are now being focused on. It got even more frantic as you realized you only had about a week to figure it all out.

Before you could write out much, you heard a soft knock on your open office door. You didn’t even bother looking up.

“Will, I really can’t do this right now. I told you I would text you when-- Oh. Sorry, Dr. Lecter.” You expected Will to be impatient and try to talk to you again, but instead you were met with the careful gaze of Hannibal.

“No need to apologize.” He shut the door behind him and took a seat. “I thought you were comfortable with addressing me by my first name, (Y/N). Has that changed?”

“Look, I know you’re not really here to talk about that. But I’m not okay enough to talk about our personal lives at the moment. And if you’re here to ask about the Tattle Crime shit, I have no idea how--”

“I came to check up on you because I am worried about you, (Y/N).” You were taken aback for a moment. Not only does Hannibal usually never interrupt you when speaking, but he isn't always the most forthcoming when talking about emotions or concern.

“I’m fine.” You go back to trying to write out your ideas, knowing that if you gave him a fake smile, Hannibal would see right through it.

“The fact that you clearly stated that you were ‘not okay enough to talk about our personal lives’ and that you planned on taking a sick day today says otherwise.”

You took a deep inhale and closed your notebook. Trying to not dump all of your thoughts, work related or personal, on him.

“It wasn’t really a sick day. It was supposed to be a day where I worked from home to try to remind myself to take a break and eat an actual meal, or do my laundry that’s been piling up, or maybe finally hang up that frame I bought three weeks ago. But apparently that wasn’t in my cards today. Yes, I’m tired. Yes, I don’t want to be around people right now. Yes, I really don’t want to be talking to you or Will about anything other than work right now. So if I need to be here, then I’m here. That’s my job.”

“But no matter how stressful a job is, you need to be able to recalibrate your mind so as to not overwork yourself until you become a hindrance. Holding on to the frustration and betrayal that you feel are surely contributing to that lack of ability to rest, (Y/N). If you allow yourself to talk to Will about it, or even myself if you feel more comfortable--”

“All of my focus is trying to go to this case, moreso now that you and I may be targets. I am your colleague and your friend. But I really don’t want to ruin the good relationship that we have by talking to you like I’m one of your patients, because I’m not one of your patients. So please, just--”

You stopped yourself as you felt something click into place. Hannibal watched as you had a similar look in your eyes like how he had witnessed at the Pencalt crime scene.

“Patient…” You were slowly closing your mind’s eye and seeing things clearly.

“You’ve figured something out, haven’t you?” Hannibal leaned forward in his seat in curiosity, truly enthralled by watching how your brain worked in these situations.

“A patient! The killer is a patient! Oh my god! We gotta go now!” You quickly stood up, grabbing your notebook as you did. “I think I just figured out who our killer is!”

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal TV #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fandom #will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader

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princessbewitchin · 3 years

Text

Tagged by @beardedeldridge

What type of witch (or wizard, sorcerer, vixen... Etc) do you identify as?

I call myself a hedge witch, but I'm more of a kitchen witch I suppose. I like to look into old traditions from across the UK and try to apply little old wives tales as well as what essentially are witch life hacks.

Favourite magical tool?

Probably jewellery. I wear it sparingly but I have many pieces that are very symbolic to me and act for channeling whenever I wear them.

Where is your favourite place to practice manifestation/spellcasting?

In the bath, I think. Nothing like a really elaborate bath. I did think "my bedroom is where I do everything" but actually I really go all out in the bathroom.

First spell/manifestation you ever cast?

I don't remember! Probably a luck spell or even an attempt at invoking the elements.

First spell/manifestation that ever worked for you?

I think the first time I noticed things working was maybe when I cast an "attract love" sort of spell, as an eleven year old for a fellow eleven year old girl. She noticed she got a lot of attention for a little while afterwards. We were just kids, it was probably all in our heads but we had a really good time being kind of silly with candles and ribbons and herbs and it was overall just wholesome young girl hours.

Most elaborate spell/manifestation you ever cast?

I think it was a three part sort of return to sender, anti curse, protection spell I cast when I just had a little bit of bad luck and just had one of those feelings. Hopefully no one actually had hexed me or anything, but I really just thought "I'll cover my bases". It had quite a few components but had three incantations, one of which I'd adapted from a spell I found and trust and the others I crafted on my own.

My second most elaborate was when a friend was having trouble knowing where he stood with his romantic partners at the time and I helped him cast a sort of "TALK TO ME GODDAMNIT" spell, and some mild divination stuff to help him see clearer. That was also a really nice night around a bonfire at a beach.

Most powerful spell you ever cast?

TW: Abuse/R*pe

Simplest spell I ever did. I just kinda let it fill me. Let calm wash over me. I cursed my rapist. He attempted suicide that night. He's still alive. I think he lives in Ireland. His mum was overall a nice person I liked, but didn't believe in evolution. XD

Most often used spell/manifestation (favourite or daily use)?

Prayer, I think. I think I kind of do a "please can this go well" prayer sort of every time I literally do anything.

A spell someone taught you that you still use to this day?

So, I've not actually had a lot of tuition from others, having hunted my path on my own and mostly with my nose in a book and my eyes on the sky.

Someone taught me how to channel my energy and I still use a sort of version of what she taught me to charge my cards and centre myself to this day.

Someone taught me a "make people break up" spell once, just really randomly while I was walking through a market she just stopped me and was like "you'll need candles!!!" and that was cool. I used it on my own relationship once. Had a boyfriend I tried to break up with three times but he'd get all this crying out and I'd feel bad. On reflection he was VERY emotionally manipulative. We were both not great with the emotional maturity thing.

I've come a long way in my philosophies and ethics in witchcraft, it's nice to reflect on some little things I did from a long time.

Now tag someone!

(I'll come back to this in an edit!)

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thedreammweaver · 4 years

Text

You really thought I’d leave? (Burton-Schumacherverse riddlebird , trans!Oswald)

Warnings: Dysphoria, misunderstandings, accidental misgendering, Clueless Ed is clueless, brief mention of suicidal thoughts of no physical consequence, medium to mild amount of blood, forced to come out by stupid dumb uterus, so. many. penguin. tears., A N G S T, pain, suffering, the lads talk about their trauma, 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 (it turns out okay though)

Ed was still feeling his post heist high when he threw himself onto Oswald’s bed while Oswald was hanging up his coat, hat, and umbrella. Ed looked over when he heard Oswald sigh, he was rubbing at his back like it hurt. “I’m sorry..” Ed blurted out.

“It’s not your fault.” Oswald said flatly as he went behind an ornate screen in the corner of his bedroom to change into pajamas. Ed had wondered a few times why Oswald didn’t change in front of him but after all they’d only been in a relationship for a few weeks, it felt like longer to Ed, but maybe the other man just needed more time. Ed rested his head in his hands, feeling guilty

“I was being theatrical and I took too long...if I had hurried up like you said batman wouldn’t have gotten there in time to hurt you..”

Oswald scoffed “It’s OK, Eddie! I needed to let off some steam anyways.”

“If getting thrown into a cement wall where you could’ve been seriously hurt and I would’ve spent forever wishing it had been me instead because..” ‘Because I love you. C’mon, Ed, just say it!’ Ed screamed at himself in his mind “well... because it just wouldn’t be right..I mean if that’s you’re idea of letting off steam then sure.” Ed pouted, kicking himself mentally and burying his face in Oswald’s bed, the comforter smelled like him which lifted Ed’s spirits a bit. “I don’t wanna go home tonight.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud but didn’t regret it either. “Then stay,” Oswald said, coming out from behind the screen now dressed in black and purple satin pjs “I mean...if this- or- we work out you’ll probably be staying here half the time anyhow, right?” “Yeah, I guess so.” Ed said absently getting off the bed to peel himself out of the green glittery spandex suit he was in, he only had his briefs and a plain tank top underneath, he’d learned to wear some sort of undershirt with the spandex if he was going to Oswald’s after unless he wanted his core to feel an ice box. “Look! The bat got you too, we’re even.” Oswald chuckled pointing out bruises on Ed’s arm and shoulder as he got under the covers. Ed rolled his eyes and crawled into bed next to Oswald he had been afraid this would be awkward but the idea of falling asleep next to Oswald came naturally and he was soon asleep.

Ed was stirred awake just as easily as he’d drifted off by Oswald quicky getting out of bed and muttering curses “Shit, shit, shit...goddamnit..” Ed sat up a bit “Wha...Ozzie, what is it??” He asked groggily. “Uh- it’s- just- nothing, nothing just uh-uh stay there or you maybe better sleep on the couch instead uh...just- go back to sleep. Don’t turn the lights on.” After that panicked deluge of unclear instruction Oswald ran off to the bathroom down the hallway. Ed still drowsy, now worried and curious he turned on the lamp by the bed and looked over to Oswald’s side of the bed, all he could make out was a blurry red blob. He huffed and clumsily reached for his glasses, he’d left them on the nightstand before he and Oswald had gone on the heist as he’d gotten changed at Oswald’s too. His eyes were slowly adjusting and the red blob revealed itself to be a sizeable bloodstain, Ed’s heart dropped. He got up and ran down the hall to the bathroom as well. When Ed went to open the door there was a shrill “DON’T COME IN!!” which made him jump and step back. “But Oswald you’re bleeding!”

“I know, Ed, it’s normal...” Ed could hear that Oswald’s teeth were gritted. “That was a lot of blood Oswald! You could have internal damage from “letting off steam” with the bat earlier. I have to take you to the hospital, I know you hate doctors but-“

“It is normal, Edward! Now leave me be!!”

Ed was taken aback, Oswald had never yelled at him like this before. He put his ear to the door, he could hear plastic ripping and crinkling, was Oswald trying to tend to the damage himself? “Oswald, please please let me help. I know you have a lot of weird..stuff going on but bleeding like that isn’t normal.”

“Yes, it is. This has nothing to do with that son of a bitch Batman, this happens every month..”

“EVERY MONTH?! Since when??”

“...since I was about twelve or thirteen..I don’t remember.”

Ed was bewildered “Since you were- you mean as in years old right??? Oswald! That could be indicative of SERIOUS health problems!!”

“Ed just leave me alone please...stop worrying, it’s fine.”Oswald’s gruff voice was beginning sound shaky. Ed was wracking his brain trying to figure out what was going on. “Oswald please talk to me, if this is “normal” I want to understand why..I-I mean is it like the stuff that comes out of your mouth or-“ “No! It’s not like that...”

“Then what??-“

“Gimme a minute! I’ve never really had to..vocalize it..before..”

Ed leaned his head on the door, now he felt confused and impatient. Oswald cleared just throat nervously “So...I’m a man right except I- Except I got born with the wrong sort of...equipment for that..”

“What??” Ed asked, more a noise of exasperation than a question. “Jesus, Ed- I...got born with a chick’s body but later I figured out I’m not a chick alright, not really..not on the inside-We’re both guys but if you wanted to narrow things down to a strictly physical matter I have more in common with the catbitch than with you..”

Ed’s brow furrowed “So you’re a woman?”

“NO!! GOD NO, ED!! DID YOU EVEN HEAR A WORD I JUST FUCKING SAID?!”

“Okay! Okay! I-I-just-“

“DON’T EVER SAY THAT SHIT TO ME AGAIN!!”

“OKAY!!” There was an uncomfortable beat of silence before Ed spoke again “So.....what are are you?” Oswald scoffed, a pitiful tone to the noise “You’re just trying your damndest to make me feel like shit aren’t you?” Ed’s heart broke when he heard Oswald’s voice break. “No! No! I- Oswald, I swear I’m just trying to understand. S-So you’re a guy? Right? On the inside..that’s what you said? But you have...girl..parts? Then-so the blood.......oh......you-...you’re just..menstruating?” Oswald didn’t answer him. “Oswald??” Ed gently pushed the door open. Oswald was on the floor leaning against the bathtub, he was just in his underpants and pajama top now, the blood stained bottoms tossed aside. Parts of his thighs were also bloodstained, he was sobbing into his flippers, a pathetic gasping hitching noise. Ed got on his knees beside Oswald, he’d never seen the man cry before and it was making him panic “Oswald, please...I didn’t mean to- did-did...I get it right the last time at least..?” Oswald whined “Yes!...yes...but it doesn’t matter...you don’t like me anymore..” “What?? Of course I still lo- like you.” Ed grabbed the other man by the shoulders to make them face eachother. Oswald took his flippers down from his tear drenched face “Just wait, you say that now but in time..you’ll get frustrated and you’ll leave, your need for a “real man” will win out over any feelings you claim to have for me. Eddie, I’ve been through this before..I know how this works..” Oswald broke down into sobs again “Except it’s worse this time..because you actually fucking matter to me, you’re not someone I paid to tell me they love me just because I needed to to hear it on a shitty night.” He was beginning to hyperventilate now “I-I never needed anyone before like I need you and I-I didn’t mean to keep this from you but I got so scared! I was so SCARED!! Scared because I think if you left me especially because of this I’d-I’d just have to go and find the tallest building in Gotham and throw myself off...see if maybe one penguin an fly after all...this poor old bird couldn’t take that, not after everything....not after all this. I thought about it so much and I’d really rather die than have you leave me, Eddie, leave me like every other little sparkling thing that cuddled up to me as if I meant something to them! Like my parents the night I was born!! They doomed me to a life of being thrown away. Th-They cursed me that night do you understand?! An-and I so need you to be the one that breaks that curse cause I. AM. telling. you! I can’t stand that happening again..not one time more...please...not once more..please.....pleease...” Oswald begged as he collapsed into Ed’s arms, sobbing, burying his face in the other man’s chest. “Oh...Oswald I- please don’t talk like that...like you’re nothing..” Ed felt tears flowing down his own face as he cradled his bird. “I..love you. God, Oswald, I love you..you really thought I’d leave?” Oswald raised his head a bit “...Eddie, people get killed for being like me...you can never tell how people will react to what they don’t understand..” Ed absently rocked himself and Oswald softly “...I love you...I wanted to say it for so long but I was scared too, I thought you were gonna be like these type of guys I messed around with in school, they’d call you baby when you’re alone and act like they really care but then you see them with their girlfriends the next day, acting like they don’t know you...and you just feel like a fucking idiot all because they don’t like who they are... I never thought I could mean as much to you as...how you said.” Oswald wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist. “You love me? Why?” There was a pitiful wistfulness in his voice. Ed didn’t have to think for long “You’re warm. You’re the only thing that makes me feel held, only thing that makes me feel safe, wanted. It’s like I wasn’t even real before I met you...I was just here..barely. I carry your warmth with me everywhere now, so I can feel real all the time..instead of like I’m floating away. You...obviously love me too, why?”

“You make me feel human. I got too used to being an animal after being treated like one...manipulated like one. You talk to me like- I don’t know...like you care..” They sat there holding eachother for a few minutes more until Oswald’s crying resumed “It wasn’t enough that I had to get born like this..” he sobbed gesturing to his flippers and nose “I had to get born with the wrong insides too...as if I wasn’t a complete freak already..” Ed held the shorter man tighter “No, no, no, no, no, don’t say that, Oswald, don’t say that,” Ed cooed, stroking Oswald’s hair “I promise I’m going to learn how to treat you right, after all this time you deserve it..I promise I’m gonna learn, okay? And I’m not leaving, you don’t have to be scared anymore..” Oswald was still crying, Ed scooted back a bit so he could see Oswald’s face. “Look, look, I-I can run you a bath so you can get cleaned up and I’ll take care of the bed, then you don’t have to think about it anymore tonight. Would that be good...if I did that?” Ed offered earnestly. Oswald sighed and nodded, Ed smiled weakly and cupped the other man’s cheek “Good-..good, so I’ll- I’m gonna do that and you can stay here and just relax, please.” Ed kissed Oswald’s cheek before getting up and turning on the bath to let it fill while he stripped the bed. Before leaving the bathroom he just had to say it once more “I love you, Oswald.” “I love you too, asshole..” Oswald grumbled, while wiping the dried, drying, and still wet tears from his face. Ed sighed happily knowing that his bird was starting to calm down already, and basking in the knowledge that he was loved back.

#oswald cobblepot #edward nygma #the riddler #the penguin #riddlebird angst

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sunflowerspecter · 4 years

Text

in the dark of space, d.d.

summary: sometimes, not even galaxies can keep soulmates apart

warnings: cursing, angst like you wouldn’t believe, sorta some fluff, awkwardness and lovely angry outbursts

pairing: din djarin x reader

words: 2060

part: 3/6

note: hi so this is like, so so so so so late and i’m SO SORRY. i’ve really been meaning to update these and then i just DONT so i’m so sorry. i really do promise to try harder ahaha but also i’ve just been falling apart and the last one didn’t do as well! also if you see a bunch of code up above i was trying to embed the first two parts and idk if that worked or failed so yeah... also school is cancelled cause of the coronavirus so i might be working on some new things!! we’ll see.

Space is so, so very vast. There are so many stars, so many planets, so many beautiful and wonderful and evil and deadly things.

But even among all of these beautiful and wonderful and evil and deadly things, there are only so many hiding places.

“I have a plan,” Mando says to you, out of the blue, one day. You’re bouncing the child in your arms near his makeshift-crib, trying to get him to sleep.

“A plan?” you ask, not looking towards him, but keeping your attention toward the kid. Mando had been in the cockpit trying to decide where to go next for hours.

“We’re going to end this. This whole deal with the child. We’re going back to Nevarro.”

“What?” you say, setting the child down and turning to face him. “Mando, you’re outnumbered. They’ll kill you and me and take the child the second they see the ship.”

“I have a plan.” You wish he would stop staying that. There is a beat before he says,“And you won’t be there.”

“I won’t be there?”

“I’m going to get Cara to join me and you’re going to stay back on Sorgan. You’ll be fine there, you’ll live peacefully the rest of your days, unless you decide to go somewhere else.”

“What are you saying?” you ask, because you seriously can’t hear him. There’s blood pounding in your ears. “Mando, what are you saying?”

“I’m leaving you on Sorgan. In case something bad happens.”

Your jaw drops, and you shake your head. “Mando, I-”

“No,” he says, turning away from you. “It’s not up for debate.”

You raise an eyebrow at that, crossing your arms. “Oh? The rest of my fucking life isn’t up for debate?”

He doesn’t look at you. He’s silent. He doesn’t move a single muscle in his body. Until- “If you want to have a life, you’ll go to Sorgan and you’ll stay there.”

“I’m not letting you abandon me.” Your voice breaks halfway through saying it. “I’m not letting you abandon me like everyone, everyone else in my life!”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you. “I’m not abandoning you. This is what’s best for you.”

You wipe the tears from your face and push your shoulders back. “What’s best for me? You want to talk about what’s best for me? I’m from a different galaxy, goddamnit! You’re the only person I trust!”

“Well, these people will take care of you. But you can’t stay with me. I’m not safe.”

You groan, throwing your hands into the air and then through your hair. “You’re so stubborn! You don’t even realize that… that…” You groan again, shaking your head and storming off. You have no words for him. Well, you do. You just can’t say them outloud.

“Y/n! Y/n, wait!” he calls after you, but you can’t face him right now. You can’t.

It’s a little later, and you’re absentmindedly pacing in the kitchen (“kitchen”) area, twirling a knife in your hands. It was the first thing you saw, and you quite enjoyed throwing knives at things. You have… had, been working on defense training with Mando a little, and knives are your favorite. Which is, admittedly, dangerous, but hey, you were doing pretty good so far.

The Mandorian walks into the room, staring at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, reaching over to take the knife out of your hands. You shake your head, trying to reach for it again.

“I was-”

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I was just thinking things over, for goodness sake. I’m not going to hurt myself.”

He shakes his head, grabbing onto your wrist. You wince as he pulls your fingers away from your palm, revealing the deep cut. “Yeah, I can clearly see that you aren’t going to hurt yourself.” You ignore him, pulling your hand away painfully. You didn’t even realize you had scraped your hand.

“So I accidentally cut my hand, it’s not even that deep. Why do you care?”

He freezes, and you think you’ve hurt his feelings, but then you remember he doesn’t have those.

“You’ve been extra reckless lately. More so than usual. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He turns, then, waves at the kid before he tries to leave. The pain in your hand is evident, but you ignore it. You suppose you had been reckless lately, especially on the last planet you were on, when you ran out in front of him when he was going to get shot. Because he was a dumbass, for god's sake.

“Is that why you’re abandoning me?” you growl after him, and he sighs.

“I’m abandoning you so that you don’t die.”

“So what?” you scream. “So what if I die?” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You remember once yelling them at your mother. You and her had fought, and she was drunk, and she threw the wine bottle at you, and she said that you were a mistake, and you screamed that. You weren’t welcome home for a week after that.

The memory brings tears to your eyes and you beg yourself not to break down.

He’s in front of you in a second, hands on your shoulders, looking at you intently. Heat rises to your face and you look at the ground, and the child, anywhere but at him. He wipes a tear from your cheek. “I need you alive.”

You scoff. “You know what, you’re right to abandon me. I’m useless. I don’t know why you’ve kept me around this long.”

You’re sure that you look like a disaster. You’re sure that you are a disaster, and you don’t even care. You don’t have any reason to care anymore. You’re in another-fucking-galaxy and the only person you trust is leaving you.

“Y/n, what brought this on?” he asks, but you shrug away from him and walk by the child. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you ask absentmindedly. You pick up the child, setting him on the table. He looks quizzically up at you, his eyes wide. You turn to your Mandalorian. “What’s wrong is that you’re abandoning me!” You pause, then sigh. “I’m in love with you,” you whisper.

He’s frozen in time, all of a sudden, and you almost laugh.

“It’s pathetic. It’s straight out of a fucking chick-flick. A cliche for the ages,” you mutter, wondering if you should jump out of the spaceship now or if you should wait until the child is sleeping.

“Y/n-” he starts, but you shake your head.

“No, no, don’t, because I already know what you’re going to say, and I don’t think I can bear to hear you say it.” You take a long pause, breathing heavily. “I get it, I do, but it hurts, however stupid it is. Even on the off chance you even felt the same, I know what you would say. ’We can’t, it’ll never work, I’m too busy being angsty and broody,’” You shake your head. He doesn’t say anything, the silent tension in the room growing by the second. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, this isn’t fair of me. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe just… forget I said anything.” You shake your head, embarrassed by your fit of passion.

“I, er. What if…” he begins, struggling to come up with the words.

“Don’t try to make me feel better.”

He steps towards you. “What if I don’t want to forget you said anything?” You freeze, looking at him, your eyebrows strung together. “What if I love you too?”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “What if?”

He laughs, this sort of half-laugh thing. “Wow, okay.” You give a sort of half smile back, realizing that he’s standing kinda really close and your breathing is kinda really heavy. “Y/n, I love you, too.”

“We can’t,” you suddenly say. “I’m too busy brooding and being angsty. You’ve heard my music collection.”

He laughs, this time. “I love your music collection.” You realize that his arms are around you. And your hands are on his chest. And you’re so. Close. To. Him. You smile, then lean your head against his shoulder.

“You’re the only person in the Universe who has ever loved me,” you say, and his arms tighten around you. “Someone once told me that humans have this instinct to love their offspring. My mother proved that can’t be true.”

“Your mother didn’t know that you didn’t need her to turn out smart, and beautiful, and kind,” he says, and suddenly, you think you’ve found home.

“Please don’t make me leave you,” you whisper. “Please don’t abandon me. Mando, I don't have anything besides you. Which is like super dependent, but this whole situation already sucks.”

He’s quiet. He steps back, shaking his head. You realize that this may be the last time you ever get to see him. But, then he says, “I won’t. I… I swear, I never will.”

~~~oOo~~~

It becomes clear to you, as you tuck the little green child that you’ve grown so fond of into bed, that your life has become anything but normal. But, that’s okay, you think, because you’re happy. You’re more happy in this spaceship with the strangest man you’ve ever met and this fifty-year-old child and the occasional appearance of badass space women than you ever were on earth.

It also becomes clear to you, as you lie in the Mandalorian’s arms one evening, that you and him have no ordinary relationship. For one, you’ve never seen his face, like, ever. And for another thing, you were kind of forcefully thrown into each other’s lives. But, that’s okay, you think. Because, damnit, it’s the healthiest relationship you’ve ever had with another human being. It’s the strongest bond you’ve ever had with another human. It’s the safest you’ve ever felt… ever.

“Mando,” you say quietly, and he hums. “Is that your real name?”

He hesitates, then says, “It’s a real enough name.”

You’re sitting in his lap, and he sits in the pilots seat, and you’re looking at the stars. It’s really, rather odd, you think. It feels so intimate, which, in all fairness, it is. It’s been a few days since your rather brash confessions, and you still haven’t figured out quite how this will work out. You decide, though, that you’ll ask yourself that afterwards. But for now you’re going to be as close to him as possible. You need that much.

“Why, hello,” Cara says, and you jump up, crossing your arms, leaning against the control panel carefully.

“Hey, hello,” you say, but she smiles knowingly.

“So, I’m not really qualified to look after this thing,” she says, the child tucked under one of her arms. You hold your hands out and she hands it off to you willingly.

“I won’t be able to look after you and the kid at the same time, and you can’t look after the kid while keeping your guard up,” Mando says, and Cara shrugs.

“What are you suggesting?” she asks, and you move your gaze from her to Mando.

“We add a party to our crew. And then we head to Nevarro.”

~~~oOo~~~

You sit in the cockpit while Cara and Mando talk to whoever it is assisting. The child stays with you, in your arms, and you just wait. And waiting means you have time to think. And having time to think means nothing good.

You realize that you’re probably going to die. This is it. You’re going to be dead. There’s no way to avoid it. I mean, your heart wants to trust Mando, but reasonably, this can’t end well.

You could go to Sorgan… but you won’t leave Mando. Not in a million years.

You hear voices from behind you. “So, where is the child?” an unfamiliar voice says. You turn around, and there’s Mando, Cara, and an unknown being.

“Kuiil, this is Y/n, Y/n, Kuiil,” Mando says, and Kuiil nods at you.

“It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Y/n,” he says, taking the baby from your arms, which you hesitantly let up.

“Do you think you’ll be able to build a sort of crib for him?” you ask gently, and Kuiil nods, a sort of smile on his face.

“I’ll get right on it.”

a/n: hi! like and reblog if u liked this pretty please and thank you!! also leave a comment if you feel like it! so sorry for this being so, so late. stay safe and happy darlings!

taglist: @marvels-blue-phoenix @simonsbluee @javert-delacour @loilko @jelly-snow-stark @mutantsandproud @ugly-wall-flower @taman-a @hollanfield (leave an ask or message or comment to be added or removed!)

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #star wars x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #x reader #reader insert

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bouwrites · 4 years

Text

Even Heroes Have the Right to Dream: Chapter 4

You took for granted all the times I never let you down.

First, Previous, Next. Ao3.

Story under read-more.

“Jon? Can I bother you for a second?”

Jon looks up from his assignment to Marinette. Honestly, it’s a bit of a relief to take a break from it. “Sure.” He says. “What do you need?”

“I’m planning to call Alya, soon. You know who she is, right?”

“Your best friend, right? Through a lot of grade school, I think you said. Is she the one that wants to be a reporter?”

“Yeah. She’s been bugging me to meet you, recently, so I was just wondering if you’d pop in to say hi for a bit.”

Jon smiles. “I get to meet your Paris friends? Cool. I’m down. You calling her now?”

“If you’re not busy.”

He shrugs. “I’ve got some homework, but I need to take a break anyway. I’m good.”

“Awesome!” Marinette chirps, taking out her phone. “Uh, fair warning, though, your parents are sort of her journalism idols, so she might be a little weird.”

Jon laughs. It’s not everyday someone outside Metropolis knows his parents well enough to bother connecting him to them, but the ones that do are all journalists, so Alya knowing makes sense. “And she hasn’t wanted to meet me before now?”

Marinette ducks her head nervously. “I… may have not told her your last name.”

“Pfft. Really, Marinette? Is she pissed with you for keeping that secret from her?”

“Oh, absolutely. In my defense, I didn’t know until almost the end of the semester! You told me your parents are journalists, but I don’t know names like Alya does. And she does talk about Lois Lane a lot, but I didn’t know your mom’s name. I just assumed it’d be Kent. I would have told her sooner if I realized.”

Jon shrugs. “That’s fair. Journalists aren’t really big names unless they’re, like, T.V. anchors. Can’t blame you for not knowing.”

Marinette snorts. “Tell that to Alya. Anyway, I’ll call her. Get ready, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She hits the call button, and nearly immediately another girl’s voice is coming from the speakers. “Marinette! Is he there?!”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Yes, Alya, he’s here.” She pushes Jon towards the couch and sits down next to him where they can sit comfortably close enough together for the camera to pick up the both of them. “See? Meet Jon, my roommate.”

“You’re Jonathan Kent!!!” Alya shrieks. She lets out a long string of something in French before taking a deep breath. “Marinette, I cannot believe you! You’ve been living with Jonathan Kent for months and you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t know his parents were the people you’re always going on about! I told you as soon as I did!”

“Mari.” Alya draws out the last vowel in a long whine. “Lois Lane is my hero! How did you forget?!”

“Uh, because her name is Lane? I’ve never met Jon’s parents. I didn’t know his mom’s name. I just knew his is Kent.”

“And how many times have I talked about Clark Kent?!”

Marinette covers her face. “That I just forgot. To be fair, what are the odds that my roommate’s parents are your heroes? It just never occurred to me.”

Alya laughs boisterously. “Good point, girl. I guess I can’t be too mad at you, since you are finally introducing me.”

“Aha. Speaking of.” Jon says. “Nice to meet you. Marinette’s told me a lot about you.”

“Hi! Oh my god. Have you seen my blog?” Alya flinches. “Wait,” she says to herself. “Can I just ask if he’s read my blog?” She shakes her head. “Will you read my blog? If I can get feedback from the Jonathan Kent, I’ll be that much closer to being the best reporter I can be.”

“Alya!” Marinette chastises. “Jon is very busy with University. He doesn’t have time to review your blog for you.”

“It doesn’t have to be right away!” Alya protests. “He can do it when he gets to it!”

Jon clears his throat. “I, uh, also don’t speak French, so…” Alya curses. Jon thinks. It’s in French, but it sounds like a curse. He laughs. “I’m flattered, but I’m not sure I can help you much. I’m not a journalist yet myself, anyway.”

“But you are studying it, aren’t you?” Alya asks.

Jon rubs his neck. “Well… no. I’m still undeclared. To be honest, I’m not really sure what I want to do, yet.” He sighs. “And am quickly running out of time to figure it out.”

He feels Marinette’s comforting touch on his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.” She says.

“Yeah, maybe.” He shakes his head, looking back to Alya. “Anyway, you have a blog? It’s about the superheroes there, right? Ladybug and Black Cat?”

“Chat Noir.” Marinette corrects him. “Ladybug’s name is in English, Chat Noir’s sounds so weird translated.”

Jon laughs. “What’s weird about Black Cat? I’m pretty sure there’s like, four different cat burglars going by variations of that exact name. At least.”

“Exactly. French, Chat Noir, is a hero. Black Cat is a villain name.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine. Chat Noir. I haven’t heard much on them lately. Not since the big news when they beat their bad guy.”

“They’re still around.” Alya says. “They’re doing more conventional heroism now. Or, at least, Chat Noir is. Ladybug hasn’t been seen for some time.”

Jon frowns. That’s news to him, but then since he’s off-duty he’s fallen out of touch with the most recent hero news. His dad has been respectfully keeping that stuff out of their talks, thankfully. It’s none of his business, anyway. “Huh. Hope she’s okay.”

“We think she is.” Alya says. “Chat won’t give us much, but apparently it was her decision.”

That’s relatable. “Ah. Cool. Good for her.”

Both Marinette and Alya give him strange looks. He shifts awkwardly under their stares. “I hear Superboy is off-duty, though.” Alya says. “Your parents are the number one source for super news. Would you happen to know what happened to him?”

Jon shrugs. “Can’t say. Mom and Dad usually don’t share details of articles with me, so I don’t know any more than they’ve made public.”

“You’re not worried about one of your superheroes just vanishing all of a sudden? The Justice League says he’s just taking leave, but don’t you think it’s a bit odd?” Alya asks. “It’s been months since anyone’s seen him.”

Good. Jon thinks. He laughs, but the sound rings bitter to him. “Why should I be worried? He’s Superboy. I’m sure he’s fine. The same could be said for your Ladybug, and you don’t seem worried.”

“Oh, I’m worried.” Alya says pointedly. Jon isn’t quite sure what the emphasis is for, but… talk about superheroes is normal, superhero business is none of his. Whatever Alya’s hinting at isn’t his concern. Ladybug is probably fine, if Chat Noir says so. “But I know the situation with Ladybug better than I do Superboy.”

“Funny, I’m the other way around. I guess there’s nothing to worry about, after all.”

Alya hums. “Maybe. I hope not.”

Marinette shifts the conversation to a lighter topic, to Jon’s relief, but something inside him stays unsettled. He doesn’t like worrying everyone, but he’s not in charge of the PR. The League is surely just trying to maintain some control over the situation, implying that he’s on some temporary break and not gone indefinitely, or maybe they just… don’t believe that he’s serious about this.

He can… he can buy that. The son of the boy scout in blue giving up heroics? Laughable. A Kryptonian living on Earth like he’s just a guy and not some god among men? Why would he lower himself that way? Because I am just a guy. Jon thinks bitterly.

The League does a lot of good in the world, and Jon respects them for that, but they just don’t understand having power and not wanting to use it. To refrain from using it makes sense to them. To hold back from using all his power is exactly what they want him to do. But they just can’t even imagine not wanting to use power that they have.

To be fair, there was a time that Jon thought the same way. His powers are a part of him, so why shouldn’t he use them? Now, when he finally has some semblance of peace, when he’s living his own life with ordinary people in an ordinary way… going back terrifies him. He’d rather lose his powers entirely than go back to using them to fight all the time.

He still feels guilty that his powers can be used to fight for good. He can, so he has to. That’s what his dad says. But… he doesn’t want to fight again. It doesn’t matter if he’s fighting for good if he’s still fighting. He’s tired, and he wants to live this ordinary life he’s found.

Super-hearing sucks. Jon decides this at God-knows-O’clock in the morning when he wakes up to the distinct and unfortunately familiar sound of glass being cut. By one of Damian’s Goddamned toys.

Damian, you motherf-

His thoughts are interrupted when he tunes in to the sound more and hears ragged, uneven breathing and the pitter-patter of liquid hitting hardwood.

Hell.

Jon throws himself out of bed and floats over the ground to make no noise – the last thing he wants to do is wake up Marinette – to go see what the damage is.

He enters the living room and there, naturally, is Damian. In his hero costume. Bleeding on Jon’s furniture. And there’s a hole in the window. There go our deposits. Sorry, Marinette. “I hate you so much.” Jon hisses.

“I’ll fix the window.” Damian snaps. “Just help me with this.” He’s holding his thigh tightly, trying to keep pressure on two different areas.

“Did you get… shot and stabbed? In the same leg?”

“I do not need your judgement, Kent. I need your supplies.”

Jon sighs and flies over to the bathroom to retrieve the first-aid kit. Luckily, Damian is more than capable of stitching himself back together, because right now Jon is doing his absolute darndest to not crush his friend instead of simply keeping pressure on him. As Damian focuses on the blade wound, Jon keeps pressure on the bullet wound, gritting his teeth all the while.

And while Damian focuses on his bullet wound, Jon gets the lovely job of cleaning up all the blood before Marinette sees it. Goddamnit, Damian.

Damian huffs. “There. Now suit up, I’ll need your assistance to finish this mission with my leg the way it is.”

Jon wrings out the towel he’s absolutely going to have to throw away now into the sink. “No.” He says. “I’m retired. Find someone else.”

Damian scoffs. “You’re clearly not busy. With you there it won’t take long, we simply need to-”

“I said no, Damian!” Jon throws the towel at him. At least Damian has the decency to start cleaning up the rest of his mess himself now that he’s not busy staying alive. “I’m not Superboy anymore. There are plenty of heroes who can help you. Call one of them.”

“Jon. Seriously.” He deadpans. “Stop trying to make this difficult. It will be simple. You’ll be back before sunrise; it won’t be any bother at all. Now come on.”

“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? I’m. Not. A. Hero. Anymore. It’s bad enough you’re breaking into my home. I’m not getting dragged onto another stupid mission with you because you can’t understand what off-duty means.”

“What is wrong with you? I came here because I was bleeding out!”

“And now you’re patched up.” Jon bites. “So, bye!”

“You’ve taken a long enough break. While you act like a child, people’s lives could be in danger.” Damian growls. “Stop whining and suit up. I need your help.”

Jon’s gut screams at him. It sinks sharpened fangs into his flesh and tears and rips and revels, because Jon knows Damian is right. People are out there right now who need help. Help he can provide. It is beyond selfish of him to refuse for such childish reasons like he’s tired or stressed or shaking with barely suppressed terror at the very idea of putting the cape back on.

Before Damian shows up in his apartment, Jon doubts he’s a good person. Maybe he was once, maybe he was just acting in some facsimile of one in his dad’s shadow, but now? Now Jon is certain. He’s a failure. A disappointment. A blot, marring that almighty “S” everyone cherishes so dearly. Because even now, even as Damian, who has dragged him out on so many missions before, comes to him crippled and bleeding, asking for his help to save innocents, Jon can’t bring himself to go with his old friend. He begs to, he yearns to, but he can’t. Something cold and pale and stony holds him back and solidifies his… resolve seems too positive a word for it. It isn’t strength at the core of his refusal. It’s fear, pure and simple. “Find someone else.” Jon says. “You’re the one overstaying your welcome. If lives are in danger, you’d save them faster if you called in backup from heroes who are actually working.”

“How can you sit idly-”

Because I’m not the person you think I am. “Because I’m not a hero!” Because I’m not strong enough. “You’re the one ignoring procedure! It’s been made crystal clear that I’m not an active hero, anymore!” Jon fears Damian can see how his tightly clenched fists shake at his side. Damian is certainly too observant to miss such an obvious tell. Pathetic. “Superboy is retired! Don’t assume I’ll drop everything I’ve been doing to run out the moment you decide I should!”

“Jon! Superboy is needed! Will you just ignore the call of duty?”

Don’t ask me that. Please. “I will! That’s not my job anymore!”

“Then why did you help me?”

Jon sputters. Because you’re my friend. Because you could die. Because… I’m selfish and I can’t distance myself enough from you to stop. “Because you were bleeding on my floors. I don’t know what you’re doing, and I don’t care.” This much, at least, is honest. Jon doesn’t necessarily not care at all, but he cares far less than he should. And he does desperately wish to not know. “I’m done with that life. I’m finally starting to feel-”

“I don’t care what kind of tantrum your leave has been about.” Damian says. “You’re needed now, so come on!”

Stop pushing. There’s a tightness in Jon’s chest, restricting his breath, stronger than any chains. If you don’t, I don’t know what… “Are you just incapable of listening?!”

“…Jon? Wha-”

Thunk.

Everything falls into deathly silence as all three people in the room absorb what just happened. Marinette, in her nightgown, sleepy and disoriented from being woken up by the yelling, is standing there in the entranceway, wide alert now, looking between Jon, Damian, the window, Damian’s bandaged leg, the bloody towel on the coffee table, and the batarang firmly rooted in the wall an inch from her head.

Damian just threw a batarang at Marinette. At Marinette.

“Never mind.” Marinette says coldly. Jon’s heart turns to ice at the frigid tone. It doesn’t belong in her voice. “I don’t want to know.” She turns away, like Jon is up at such a dumb hour eating ice cream instead of fighting with a hero standing in front of a man-sized hole in their window.

When Jon hears the click of her door closing, he rounds on Damian. Self-pity, self-loathing, doubt, all of it leave his heart in an instant. All he feels now is anger. Something fiery consumes him and he sees red. “Get the hell out of my home.”

“I-”

“How fucking dare you! You break into my house, demand my help when I’ve already made it clear you shouldn’t call me for that, and you attack my roommate?! Do you realize what you’ve just done?!”

“She has remarkable reflexes.” Damian says.

“Get the hell out of my house!”

Damian clears his throat awkwardly. In a calmer state of mind, Jon will later remember this is a sign of Damian’s embarrassment, but at the moment he doesn’t care to think twice about the gesture. “Yes… of course. You clearly have damage control to do here, with your identity possibly compromised to a civilian. I’ll find someone unoccupied to assist with my mission.”

Jon just gapes at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Damian picks up the circle of glass and hangs outside the window for a moment to fix it back in place and seal it before he takes off.

The window looks good as new, but there’s a bloody rag on Jon’s coffee table and… the damage is done. Oh, God. He sighs, picking up the towel again and throwing it in the sink. Now what?

He has no idea how much Marinette heard, if anything, but even just seeing Damian here in his hero costume is dangerous. She’ll wonder how he knows Damian, why Damian came here.

All this, coming to New York, all this work in college, his entire life right now, is to get away from heroism. In one night, Damian breaks in and uproots all of it. Months of building up his life here, and now he’s in the deep end of the hero nonsense again. Great. Just great.

Maybe… maybe it’s salvageable. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe… there’s only one way to find out. He has to start damage control as soon as he can. God, I’m tired.

He spends another few minutes wringing the blood out of the towel. It’s as good as it’s going to get, but he thinks he’ll still probably buy a new one tomorrow. Then, with a heavy sigh, Jon trods over to Marinette’s door.

He raps gently on the wood. “Marinette?”

“I don’t want to know, Jon!” Marinette’s icy voice cuts into him. This… isn’t the reaction he expects. Especially with Alya as her best friend, he expects her to be asking him for all the details. He expects it’ll change everything, and he hates that it will, but he certainly doesn’t expect that all the kindness and warmth, all the friendliness and cheer, will vanish just like that.

He knows the batarang must have scared her. He deserves her anger, her confusion, her fear. That, he understands. But this? Cold fury, something deep, something hurt, like betrayal. A wall of ice built between them in an instant. He doesn’t understand, he can’t understand, but it hurts him regardless, to hear her voice that way. To hear the pain in her voice. “Marinette? At least let me explain.”

“I said I don’t want to know!” The door swings open, giving Jon a clear view of Marinette’s clenched jaw and white knuckles and her deadly glare. “I don’t care why he was here. I don’t care how you know him. I don’t want to know. Whatever your business is with heroes, I don’t want anything to do with it. Understand? Leave me out of it.”

She slams the door in his face.

Jon has never heard her sound that way before. It’s frightening, but mostly it makes him feel like his world is falling apart. Months of his life, all the normal he’s managed to find, gone. Just like that. With the slam of a door.

Now what?

Marinette won’t talk to him. Jon fixes the hole in the wall and snaps the batarang that caused it in half with his bare hands. He hides the pieces away in his closet where he doesn’t have to look at them. There’s a new towel in their kitchen. At any glance, the apartment is back to normal.

But Marinette won’t talk to him. She treats him like the plague. She comes home late, going straight to her room when she does. If she sticks around in the morning long enough to make coffee or tea, she makes her own cup and leaves. The few times she’s home for dinner, she cooks just for herself and eats in her room.

Life is… normal. He’s still going to class, he’s still living here in New York, his apartment is back to normal. But it doesn’t feel like normal. It feels like hell. It feels like everything he tried to run away from when he left the hero life behind him is kicking him square in the butt over and over again. Every time Marinette’s gaze sweeps over him and continues like he’s not even there, every quiet, quiet evening in when she’s not in the apartment and he doesn’t know if she’s out getting dinner or working late in the library, or… or anything.

It’s almost like she isn’t even there anymore.

Jon leaves a post-it note in the entranceway, right inside the door, before the hallway turns. It says to take off his shoes. He’s not sure if he’s trying to get her attention somehow or if he just misses her getting on his case about it. It works, though. He replaces his shoes with the indoor ones Marinette got for him early on. She doesn’t comment on it.

He can’t focus anymore. When he sits down to study, he just feels this dread hang over him. When he’s in class he just feels out of place. Like he doesn’t belong. It’s frustrating, and it pisses him off, and that only makes it harder to focus on his work.

He tries. He tries so hard. He’s doing everything he can, but he can’t sit still and let that overhanging pain consume him. He can’t stop to look at his notes, because if he does it’ll catch up with him and he can’t handle that. He feels like he’s always on the move, searching for something to do, something to distract him, but at the same time he can feel himself stagnating and it makes him feel dirty and gross and he hates it and he scrubs himself so thoroughly every day but the filth he feels never goes away.

Even being a hero was better than this. But then he listens for that tell-tale shriek he’s been shutting out for so many months and he’s not sure it’s not coming from him because the thought of flying to the rescue, of punching some thief and getting involved in something that’s none of his business makes him nauseous. It makes his heart race and he can’t breathe, and he aches all over, wondering what’s wrong with him.

A small, sensible part of him says, “You were ten. Of course, you’re messed up, now.”

A more cynical part says, “Damian was younger. He’s not having a panic attack because some lady is getting her purse stolen.”

Surprisingly, it’s that same cynical part of him that helpfully counters itself. “Sure, he’s still a hero, but do you really want to call Damian okay?”

Yeah, that’s fair.

This is all his fault, anyway.

Diligently, like clockwork, he works on the schedule that he built over his first semester. He goes to class, and when he gets home, he writes down all his assignments on the whiteboard over his desk. Marinette’s idea. It’s the only reason he made it through the transition to college from high school.

Now, though, he just stares at the assignments there in black ink and stares and stares and wills himself to do them but doesn’t ever actually move. He hates it so much. He’s never been just unable to do things before, but now the farthest he ever gets is pulling the paper out, then all he can do is stare at it until his mind wanders and he ends up clicking through websites like a tiger pacing it’s cage at the zoo. Always moving, always going back and forth, but never doing anything.

When he gets his midterm scores back, Jon decides he can’t do this anymore. If he keeps going at this rate, he’ll lose what grip he does still have on his grades and he won’t have a choice but to go home and back to… back to Superboy.

He can’t go back to Superboy. Whatever else this reprieve of duty has done to him, he just can’t handle that anymore. He knows what he needs. He had a taste of it. Just a tiny, tiny, prototype of it, but he had it. That normalcy. That feeling like he knows what he’s doing, that he’s okay, and that things will work out. He had it and he lost it. And he doesn’t know how to get it back.

“Mom?”

He hears his mom’s gentle sigh over the phone. That familiar, knowing sigh she does when she knows she’s gearing up for something big. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Jon explains the situation to her. No details spared. He tells her about Damian showing up, about Marinette seeing him, about her avoiding him and his slipping grades, and about how much going back to being Superboy terrifies him. He tells her how frustrated he is because he had, for just a moment, exactly what he wanted right in his hands and Damian came and knocked it to the floor and shattered it. He tells her how angry he is with Damian. With himself. With how he’s afraid what his dad will think of him if he’s so weak he can’t even save himself, much less be a hero worthy of being the son of Superman. He tells her how alone and stagnant he feels, how evil he feels for turning down Damian in the first place, and he begs her for help.

It’s a long, long, mostly one-sided conversation, punctuated by long periods of nothing but crying, but he tells her everything because he doesn’t have any other route to take.

“Sweetie, if you can’t be Superboy, then you can’t be Superboy.” His mom says. “Your dad and I do feel differently about it, but you remember what he said when you first talked to him about this? Good people help because they can. Honey, you can’t. And that’s okay. Not doing something you can’t do doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you normal.” And now he’s crying again. “He won’t be upset with you if you don’t go back to being a hero. He just wants you to be happy, same as I do. And it takes a lot more strength to admit when we can’t do something than to kill ourselves trying anyway. I’m proud of you. And he is, too.

“And I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you about Marinette. If she doesn’t want to be around you, then… there’s not much you can do but keep trying to be happy without her. I know she’s your friend, but… there’s only so much you can do. If she’s really against it, you might have to say goodbye.”

“I don’t want to.” Jon chokes out. “Mom, she’s my normal.”

“You found normal once. You can do it again.”

Jon frantically scrubs at his eyes, trying to stop the tears. “I… S’pose.” The thought doesn’t make him feel better, but it does make sense.

“And I think you should talk to Damian.”

“I don’t want to see him.” Jon growls.

“Jon, he’s your friend, too. You both woke up Marinette. It was wrong of him to ask you to help with his mission, but don’t blame him for what isn’t entirely his fault.”

There’s a spike in Jon’s heart, and it’s twisted because he knows she’s right.

“Don’t lose two friends over this, Jon.”

God, she’s right. Jon has to go talk to him. He doesn’t want to, but… he has to. Knowing Damian, he probably doesn’t fully understand why Jon’s even mad at him, so he has to. To at least give Damian a chance to understand.

Even if a part of him says good riddance, and that he’s better off without Damian always there to drag him back into the world of heroes.

Alfred answers the door of the manor and barely looks him up and down before telling Jon that Damian is in the batcave. Jon trudges past the old butler, following old paths through the manor he’d memorized a lifetime ago.

Damian catches sight of him the moment he enters and nods his acknowledgement. Jon notes that Tim is here, but he can’t bring himself to care.

It feels weird, walking into the batcave in an old flannel and worn-out jeans. It’s weird to not even have his suit underneath. This place feels so deeply entrenched with Jon’s memory of heroism that he feels out of place as he is. Underdressed, in a way.

“You should be talking to your father about returning to duty.” Damian says. “Hiding here won’t help.”

“I’m not returning to duty.” Jon says tiredly. “I’m here to talk to you.”

Damian pauses. He’s not expressive, per se, but Jon knows him too well. He knows Damian is embarrassed about the incident. Perhaps even… guilty? Jon’s too tired to think too much about it. “Ah. Right. Speak, then.”

Jon takes a deep breath to stamp down on the rage that bubbles up at Damian’s dismissive tone. Like he didn’t do anything wrong. Like he didn’t come by uninvited and… “You ruined my life.” Jon says quietly. “Do you understand that?”

Damian frowns at him. “There’s no need to get dramatic. This Marinette girl may have heard a bit too much, but she’s only one person. This can be solved easily.”

Jon groans. “That’s not what I’m talking about!” He pauses to breathe some more. He refuses to cry in the batcave. Especially not in front of Damian. “I’m not Superboy anymore. I’m not a hero anymore. I quit for a reason, Damian. I quit because I wanted… I just wanted one thing. I wanted something that could make me feel… okay. I can’t be Superboy, because I- because I…” More deep breaths. Stay calm. “Because I’m not okay. And I went to New York, to college, because I thought I could find something normal. I thought I could- I could be me and not have to fight all the time. And I did! I was happy! I felt safe, and I felt like I could- like I could- I felt like things would be okay.

“And then you came in. Now Marinette won’t talk to me. I’m all alone and I’m only getting worse, but every time I think about going back to being Superboy I panic because I can’t- I can’t fight like that again. I just… physically… I…” He sighs and focuses on his breathing again. “I thought I could be happy. But now that’s ruined.”

Jon notes that Damian stops looking at him somewhere along the line, but all he hears is Damian’s flippant retort. “You’ll get over her. Just because you love this girl doesn’t mean her not liking you is the end of the world.”

That’s where Jon sees red. He stalks up and grabs Damian by the collar, half-surprised that Damian lets him, but not hesitating to lift Damian into the air. “Don’t talk about her like that! You don’t understand anything! Don’t trivialize this like that! It’s not about love, Damian! I’m not in love with her! She was my normal! She was- She was…” Jon chokes on his own words and drops Damian so he can turn away and focus on keeping his tears from slipping free. “You don’t get it. I don’t know why I came here. I’m just going to- I’m going to go.”

“Wait, Jon.” Jon stops, turning back to look at Damian. Damian sighs, though it comes out as more of a huff. “I’m sorry.” He says. “I… I didn’t know why you quit, and I assumed… I shouldn’t have, and I apologize.”

It’s not much, but it’s an apology. It doesn’t fix anything, but it does make Jon feel just a little less broken. “Thanks.” Jon says quietly. “I’m sorry, too. I was yelling, too. It’s not entirely your fault she woke up.”

Damian just nods stiffly in acknowledgement, still refusing to meet Jon’s eye. “Would you… like help reconciling with Marinette? Perhaps if I-”

“God, no. For Christ’s sake, please don’t even step foot in New York.” Jon says it more biting than he means, but that doesn’t seem to bother Damian much. “Marinette doesn’t want anything to do with heroes. Quite frankly, I don’t disagree. If you come in trying to fix everything, it’ll only get worse.”

“…I understand. If you do need my assistance, I will be available for you.”

Jon stares at him for a while, wondering how he feels about that. He’s still resentful, a bit, but Damian is trying. He’s a far cry from that bratty thirteen-year-old that dragged little ten-year-old Jon around on wacky, life-threatening adventures. Jon supposes he’s pretty different now himself, too.

“Thanks, Damian. I appreciate that.”

-------=-------

Tag List: @moonystars14 @pawsitivelymiraculous @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @buticaaba @bigpicklebananatree @lozzybowe @moonlightstar64 @amayakans <3

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml x dc #ml fanfiction #maribat #marijon #ehhtrtd

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marvelxfandoms · 4 years

Text

RAMON—H.W

Summary-You and Harry are having a very sentimental talk that eventually leads to more, but Cisco has to ruin it-Takes place during S4

Btw-Sorry if this sucks, its my first ever Harrison Wells fan fiction

(This is also on my Wattpad)

Warnings-Some cursing, partial smut

Word Count: 2,183

Y/N's POV

Harry's been working in his workshop for way too long now. It's really starting to bother me, he's not even spending anytime with me ever since Devoe has gotten into our lives. So I decided to talk to Cisco for this.

I walk into his workshop "Cisco!" "Yeah hold up, I'll be right there!" He yelled back. After a few minutes he finally met up with me "Yeah what's happening" "Harry's not spending time with me, but he's always working in his workshop. It's bullshit!" I said. "Y/N I know that Harry can be an asshole, but he has to solve who this Devoe guy is" Cisco says. "It's like he has time to fuck his work and has no time to fuck me" I say in a strong voice. "Well I didn't need to know that, and I'm gonna pretend I never heard that" "Well the more you know" Cisco and I chuckle.

"Tell me how you feel, but without any sexual tensions. Cause I don't want to be ruined again, I've already seen his 'lower regions." Cisco says as he's staring off in the distance with disgust on his face. "When did you ever see his d— oh wait, never mind" I say as I remember the Council of Wells.

"Okay carry on with your rant about Harry not spending time with you" "Harry's always in his workshop, day and night, so even at night I can't be with him so I'm always in bed alone and I'm not used to that. When I try and help him he always saves me off like he's entranced to his work and can't have and bothers." "Mmhmm" "Every Time he's on break he doesn't even bother to say 'hi' or 'hello' to me, and that's what truly bothers me. He never gets any time to spend with me." I say as tears start to form in my eyes. "No don't cry. He will always be like that, he's a stubborn man who will not stop working at any case just to figure out the solution to a problem. If I can do anything to help you I can try and talk to him" Cisco says. "That would be great if he would listen to you" "Ohhhh, believe me he will" Cisco says with a smirk as I chuckle. "Thank you so much Cisco. What can I do to repay you?" "You can tell Harry to stop being a dick to me?" "Ohhh, believe me, it's gonna be hard to persuade him" I say and we both laugh. "So when are you going to talk to him?" "I'm gonna march into his workshop right now and tell him" "Okay, but just be careful he might lash at you" "Don't worry once I bring up your name he'll shut up" "Hahaha, okay, what ever you say. Thank you again Cisco" "Don't worry, I would do anything for my sister from another mother" He says as we hug.

Cisco's POV

As I walk into Harry's workshop I smell a bunch of coffee and a little bit of alcohol in here. "Harry!!! Come out, come out wherever you are!" "Jesus Ramon, warn me when you barge into my workshop!" Harry yells as he throws his coffee on the floor. "Hey, what the hell Harry! Your cleaning up your mess after you do what I tell you to do" "And why would I listen to you Ramon?" "Because it's about Y/N" As I brought up Y/N's name Harry became instantly worried. "Why? Did something happen to her? Is she hurt? What did you do?!" "She's hurt emotionally, and not because of me, it's because of you."

Harry got up and started marching towards me and I almost pissed myself when I saw his face. He looked totally pissed "Harry I swear I didn't do anything. She's hurt because of y—." I was cut off my Harry choking me against the wall. "Don't you dare blame anything on me, I'll only believe it if it's coming from my Y/N!"

"Harry stop choking Cisco cause he's telling the truth" Y/N's voice came out of no where, but thank god.

Harry finally let go of me "Ramon get out"

"What wh-." "Just get out so we can talk"

"Cisco, listen to him" with that I walk out, but before I left I whispered to Y/N "Just know that he does love you and he will do anything for you" Y/N nodded and then hugged me. After the hugging was done I left, and as I was leaving I could feel Harry's deadly eyes on me.

Your POV

"Oh no, no honey I'm just working too hard on finding who this Devoe bitch is" Harry said. "I know that, but you always ignore me when I try and get near" "I do that so I can get things done quicker and spend time with you when I'm done" Harry said, and at this point I was crying. " I just want to spend time with you" "I know but I have to work so we can find our DeVoe" Harry says. "Harry is DeVoe your husband or something?" "No, bu-" "No buts Harry! I feel like we're drifting apart and I can' take it anymore!" "Love I-" "Harry let me speak!" With that he instantly shut up. "Harry all I want is you and I just want to spend time with my boyfriend during these rough times. I want to spend time with you since your always stressed and angry, and I just want to help you get less stressed and help the team not get affected by your rage fits. Your the best thing that has ever happened in my life and I want to help you in anyway, and I would do anything to help you." At this point I could see that Harry was sorry and filled with guilt. "Harry I know that all of this isn't your fau-" I was cut off by Harry walking up to me and giving me a warm embrace. "No, no love, it is my fault. I haven't been spending any time with you during these rough times. I should've been thinking more about you and how you were feeling instead of working." He kisses my temple. "I'm so sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?" I look up at him and wrap my arms around his neck. "I think there might be one thing you could do to get my forgiveness."

As I say this he smirks at me and starts backing me up into the wall. "Oh love, you know just how to work me up" Every time he spoke he kissed me, and every time he got lower. "I'm" kiss on my lips, "going" kiss on my cheek, "to" kiss on my temple, "show you" kiss on my neck, "how much" kiss on my collarbone, "I love you" and when he kissed my sweet spot I couldn't hold my sounds back. He trailed right back up to my lips and we started to kiss aggressively to see who would win dominance, but we both knew that he would win. "Jump" Harry said in a lust filled voice, and goddamnit he knows how much I love it when he uses that voice. I jump and wrap my legs around his waist and he leads us to his desk in the room. He sweeps off all of his work on his desk like it was all useless and not important. "Harry, your work!" "I don't give one fuck about the work right now cause all I'm focused on right now is you and you only." As he says this he places me on the desk like I'm the most fragile and important thing in the world for him. "I'm gonna make you feel like a fucking queen right now." With this statement he whips my shirt right off of me and almost starts to take off my pants, but I stop him. "Harry stop" He looks at me like a deer in headlights "Why, what happened, what did I do?" He asks me in his nice, nervous, and cute voice that I also love. "It's what you didn't do" I say as I smirk. "What did I not do?" At this, I tugged on his iconic black sweater, and then he finally got the idea. "Ohhh, I see. Well your wish is my command Miss L/N" With this he strips off his sweater and undershirt, and he reveals his god like body. "You like what you see?" He says with an eyebrow raised, since he saw me gawking at his body. "You know I like what I see" I say as he snaps me out of my entrancement. "Good cause I like, wait no, I love what I see." After staring at each other in awe, Harry and I start moving closer to each other's lips, and then I make the move to attack his lips with mine. He then starts to fight back by gaining back his dominance.

I guess we were so lost in each other's embrace and make out session that we didn't hear the footsteps leading to the lab. "Hey Y/N, Harry how are you guys? I hope you guys aren't still mad at each other since I couldn't hear any— OMG MY EYES!" That's all we heard from Cisco. "Oh goddamnit-Ramon what did I tell you about barging into my room without warning me first!"Harry yells as he tries to cover me up from Cisco's view. "I'm sorry I thought you guys were fighting and I wanted to check up on you two so you wouldn't kill each other!" Cisco yells back. "I didn't think that you guys were gonna end up having make up sex!" "Well, you don't know us that well then" I say, and Harry chuckles. Cisco rolls his eyes at us both, "Y/N I expected more out of you and Harry I-" Cisco stops for a little bit. "Harry I just don't know what to expect from you now, and Harry you have your own ROOM and BED to do the nasty in..." "Ramon" Harry tries to cut him off. "....you don't have to fuck on a desk..." "Ramon" "...just to let you know its a lot more comfier to have sex in a bed..." "Ramon!" "What!" Cisco finally stops rambling. "Get out." Harry says in the calmest way possible. "Ok fine, but can you guys not do it in the lab, people walk in here and sometimes work in here" "Cisco, let me tell you something." "Yes?" "We're doing it in the lab cause there's more fun involved" I say to Cisco as I wink at Harry, and I could tell that Harry really wanted Cisco out of the room now. "Y'all are disgusting, why would you tell me thi-" "Ramon. Get. Out." "Well I can see that someone's anx-" "RAMON! OUT!" "Ok, ok. Calm down I'm going, and by the way, you guys better clean up after-" "Cisco get out" I say. "Ohhhh, I see Harry isn't the only horny on-" "Get Out!" Harry and I say in sync. With that Cisco literally fled the room, and yelled down the hall "Y'all better use protection!" Me and Harry chuckle. Harry walked to the door and locked it completely, and then he walked right back to me with lust blown eyes. "So where were we?" Harry said right as he got to me. "Hmmmm, let me think." I said with my hand resting upon my chin, looking like I was thinking. "If I remember you were about to take me on your desk. Am I right?" "That's just what I was thinking" Harry said as he started to kiss me.

With that, all I can say is that we stayed in the lab all day, and we never left that room until the morning.

The End

Welp, here's the first chapter of this Tom Cavanagh/Harrison Wells' x reader fanfic book. It's not that good, but its the best I could do. It would mean a lot to me if u could give me some feedback on this and maybe give me some advice for my future chapters. Btw requests are open for now. Hope u guys enjoyed this chapter, and hope u guys have a great night/day!

#harrison wells x reader #harry wells x reader #harry wells #harrisonwells #tom cavanagh #cisco ramon

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jinmindeulle · 4 years

Text

of love and other poems | myg

word count: 3.2 k

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: art gallery au, pianist/artist au, pianist!yoongi x artist!reader ∣ almost smut?, fluff

warnings: minor cursing

a/n: and with of love and other poems, i officially get started with my bts works! i have been waiting so long for this moment, especially because i love bts with my whole heart and they are my ultimate everything. although seokjin’s my bias, i had to get started with the bias wrecker. more things to come!!

happy reading! ♥

My hands were tinted with every colour of my palette. Most of my paintbrushes were used, spread over my dark wooden table, also painted with multiple colours and materials. Luckily, my floor was covered with a thousand plastic sheets that Taehyung had given me after seeing how messy my art room got every time I stepped inside it. That’s why I recently stopped trying to clean it. There’s no use when I literally have been spending my entire afternoons here.

“Could you book it, Tae? Are you sure that no one’s taking my place that day?”

“Relax, y/n” he chuckled, showing me the Seoul’s National Art Gallery’s website in his laptop “I have already booked yours and mine, and I checked twice. It’s going to be alright”

“You know that this is no joke, and I always get anxious over fucking everything!” I sighed, walking backwards some steps so that I could take a look at my last piece “What do you think? I’m planning to have this one at the entrance”

“So that’s the intro? It’s stunning, y/n” Tae smiled, displaying his boxy grin “You’ll graduate with honours! I’m so proud of you!” he hugged me tight, shaking our bodies with excitement.

“You too!” I giggled, hugging him back.

Although I was constantly worried about how well my art would do in every class, Taehyung was always there to reassure me and make sure that I was satisfied. Nearing our college graduation, however, my insecurities got worse and worse. Surrounded by talented people, including my best friend, I knew for a fact that I was going to have a hard time coming up with something creative and meaningful to display as my final exam. At the same time, we were not only in charge of our work, but also of booking our place at the Seoul’s National Art Gallery on the weekend that our delivery was due, of arranging our pieces and exhibiting them for the general public as if we already were the professional artists that we hoped to become after that damned exam. My anxiety levels were reaching their peaks as that day got closer, so Taehyung made sure to spend as much time with me as possible.

“Don’t you need to get back to your apartment? You had to finish your last piece too” I pouted.

“I can manage”

“Tae…” I whined “You know how much I appreciate and thank you for being here with me, but you need to focus on your exam too. Go home, I can deal with myself for a bit”

“It’s okay, really” he took my chin with one of his large hands and playfully shook my head “Jimin is practicing his routine for his own final exam and I-”

“Need silence to paint, I know” I interrupted him, chuckling “So you’ll stay the night, then?”

“Seems like you want to” he teasingly wiggled his eyebrows, earning an arm smack from me “Ouch!”

“Go order some pizza while I take a shower, dummy”

Although some say that taking a shower is a way of relaxing, I highly disagree.

Less than two days away from my final exposition, my head wouldn’t stop thinking and re-evaluating every aspect of my already finished pieces, going over every detail that could go wrong that day. I knew I had taken care of everything and anything, but it still felt like something was missing. My art was there, ready to take to the gallery and exhibit, I rehearsed and rehearsed what to say about each piece probably a thousand times and my outfit was already picked up, obviously by Tae. What else was there to complement my artwork?

As I dried my hair, going over the poem that was behind my paintings in my head, Taehyung’s deep, caramel voice came muffled through the bathroom’s door. He was singing that same old song that complimented his tone like no other. Enjoying the melody, I turned off the hair dryer and got started with my night-time skincare routine, softly humming along Tae’s voice.

It was then when it hit me.

“That’s what I fucking need!” I yelled, running out of the bathroom with half of my face covered in my green facemask.

Taehyung’s eyes went wide upon seeing me desperately going in circles around the coffee table, screaming nonsensical words and having the eleventh mental breakdown over the course of the afternoon. But as he was too used to my stupidity, he got up from the couch and stopped me on my tracks, putting his big hands on my shoulders. “Calm down, y/n, what’s wrong now?”

“I need music!” I panicked “My art gallery won’t be complete if I don’t fucking have live music to accompany the mood! It’ll be utterly horrible!” my eyes watered “How the fuck do I find a decent musician in less than 48 hours?!”

“God, y/n, I thought you were questioning your life choices again” he sighed, engulfing me in a comforting hug. I felt some tears go down my face, angry at myself for letting those dumb things get to my head as fast as they pop up. I embraced his waist, cuddling closer to his neck but trying not to stain his pale-blue linen shirt with my facemask. “I know someone that could help”

“You do?” I sobbed, dethatching my face from his collarbone and looking up at his bright orbs.

“He’s a wonderful pianist and has brilliant taste in music. I’ll call him tomorrow first thing in the morning”

“You’re amazing, Tae” I cried, going back to his tight hold “I don’t know what I would do without you”

“Me neither” he chuckled, kissing the top of my head.

“You’ll do like no other, honey bunch. Just breath in and out, calm yourself down and most importantly, enjoy. You’ve been working so hard for this day and you cannot let it go to waste. You’ll smash it”

Once again embraced in Taehyung’s arms, I breathed in his scent as an attempt to calm down my beating heart. No one had arrived yet, but I was already at my fifth mental breakdown. All of the hard work that I had non-stop been carrying out for the past four years was hanging by a thread today, and as my best friend said, I could not ruin it by being a dumb bundle of nerves. Just when I was finally keeping my heartbeat under control, Tae’s phone started buzzing inside his suit’s pocket.

“That must be my pianist friend” he muttered, taking a look at his iPhone screen. “Yep. He’s here already, let me go get him!”

“Okay” I sighed, straightening my dress as he jogged out of the room.

My art pieces were already hanging on the walls, telling the story that I had wanted them to tell for so long. Each one had their own meaning, their own reason to be. Unlike those first paintings of mine, these had a purpose and they were able to talk to the observer, but only if they closely paid attention to every detail.

“That’s spectacular”

Such unfamiliar voice took me out of my thoughts, making me turn around to find the face that matched it. And goddamnit. Dumbfounded, speechless, mouth dried. That pianist was indeed spectacular.

“Th-thank you” that was all I could say. Damn, y/n, get it together!

“Min Yoongi” he stretched his hand, and I awkwardly shook it, praying to whatever God was above us to just let my blushing cheeks go back to normal as soon as possible.

“y/n l/n”

“Taehyung told me” he smiled, shoving his hands inside his pockets and looking around the gallery “I meant it when I said they are incredible”

“I-I appreciate it” I tightly closed my eyes, breathing in and out to help my heart beat at normal pace once more “And thank you for coming on such a short notice” I opened them up, just to find his endearing face looking at me with a soft smile over his rosy lips “It was a last-minute thought and I really needed music for my exhibit”

“I had the day off, so no worries. I know how important music is and I just wanted to help. Plus, I owed Taehyung a favour”

“It means a lo-”

“y/n! Professor’s here with a bunch of people!” a frantic Taehyung came running into the room, interrupting my exchange with the ravishing pianist “Get into place, you dummy! And you too, hyung!” and immediately after screaming at us, he went back to his place as my gallery’s receptionist.

“Good luck, artist. I’ll do my best to reach your standards” and with that, he walked straight to the giant shiny piano that was laying right in front of my last, ‘outro’ piece, and smoothly ran his expert fingers over the keys.

[BGM: i need u, piano version]

I could not take my eyes off of his veiny hands the moment he got started with his fascinating art, making me instantly regret having Taehyung take care of my one a.m. requests.

“How stunning, Miss. y/n!”

I was nearly running out of energy when Taehyung informed me that the last visitor was out of the room. He hugged me so tightly that I thought I was about to pass out, but at that point I could not care less.

“I’m so proud of you, honey bunch!” he giggled, picking me up from the ground and squeezing the life out of me, as he always does “It was impressive. Everyone loved it! You should have heard how they complimented your pieces as they left the gallery!”

“Tae…” I answered with difficulty, trying to catch some air “You’re clutching… me too… tight!”

“Sorry!” he put me down, arranging some of the hairs that went out of my perfectly styled bun.

“Thank you Tae” I sighed with a content smile “You made this possible too. And I will be there for you next week just as you were here today. I love you” I kissed his cheek, making him get flustered just as I wanted him to. “Now go home. You need to rest”

“But-”

“Kim Taehyung!” I interrupted him “I’ll finish here. I want to stay for a bit on my own and then I’ll go home.”

“Fine” he pouted “But you text me when you get home, please. It’s too late for you to be walking on the streets all alone”

“M-hm” I nodded, watching him go backwards as he waved at me “See you, babes!”

“Be careful!”

“Yes, dad” I shook my head, giggling at his antics.

Once he was out of the room, I heavily sighed and glanced back to where my paintings where. I studied them once more, pretending as if I was looking at them for the first time. Maybe the story that I wanted them to tell could be something else when a different eye observed them. Art is relative, and so were interpretations.

“W.H. Auden?”

His deep, raspy voice startled me once again, but this time I didn’t have to turn around to see him. He was right by my side. I could perceive his calm breaths while taking in the sight of my ‘intro’ piece, his eyes sparkling with something close to admiration, to esteem, to wonder.

“How’d you know that?”

“I like poetry” he softly smiled, tearing his gaze away from the painting to fixate his eyes on my own “It’s ‘The More Loving One’, right?”

“Wow… that’s… that’s impressive” I bit my lip, astonished by the man’s capacity of interpreting my intentions in mere seconds “I thought that nobody was going to get it”

“I just like art in general” he shrugged. We fell in a comfortable silence, both of us immersed in our own thoughts. However, the pianist was quick to keep the conversation flowing once again. “Let me guess… Looking up at the stars, I know quite well… That, for all they care, I can go to hell… But on earth indifference is the least… We have to dread from man or beast” he recited, with no rush and honeyed deep voice. He gently took my wrist with his hand and slowly directed me towards my second painting. My heartbeat rapidly increased upon feeling his warm touch, and I thanked Taehyung for letting me wear comfortable heels, or else I was soon going to end up collapsing on the floor “How should we like it were stars to burn… With a passion for us we could not return?… If equal affection cannot be… Let the more loving one be me.”

When we reached the following set of paintings, I was, by this time, in Cloud 9. Despite this, I still needed him to stop his astounding display of knowledge about my favourite poet, because he was already becoming something else for me. So I took over “Admirer as I think I am… Of stars that do not give a damn… I cannot, now I see them, say… I missed one terribly all day”

“Were all stars to disappear or die… I should learn to look at an empty sky… And feel its total dark sublime… Though this might take me a little time” he finished for me, as we arrived to the last trio of paintings “As much as I worship Auden, I disagree” he muttered, observing my ‘outro’ painting. “Do you think that love is fleeting and impermanent?”

“It depends… He’s talking about unrequited love, though. That kind of love should be fleeting and impermanent” I looked at him, studying his gorgeous features. He pressed his lips together and his brows snapped together, returning my gaze.

“Is unrequited love less than the requited one?”

“Of course it is” I chuckled “You cannot expect someone to love you just because you love them. You need to get over them, even if it takes you your whole life”

“Still… do you love someone any less when they do not love you back?”

“Not really. But the difference lays in the fact that you won’t ever get that with the person who doesn’t love you. Imagine having to deal with that kind of indifference just because you adore them”

“Wouldn’t you rather your lover be indifferent towards you when the other possibility left is hating you?”

“Oh, c’mon! Does self-love apply here?”

“I don’t think you ever get to love yourself more than a person that makes you feel alive” he replied, his velvety voice becoming deeper and mesmerizing, his eyes never leaving mine “Do you love yourself more than your lover?” Yoongi murmured, getting closer. Our breaths were now blending together, making it difficult to distinguish which was his and which mine.

“I-I don’t…” I stuttered, feeling the intensity of his eyes “I don’t have a… lover” I finally muttered back, unable to tear my eyes off of his.

“Let’s fix that, then”

Yoongi’s mouth found mine in a heavy, hot kiss. His lips took over mine without much effort, slowly angling his face to deepen it. I was quick to let him in, feeling how his soft tongue gradually brushed my own. I took the initiative, pulling him by the neck to get him closer, as if that was even possible by now. His hands gently caressed my hips, securely taking place on my lower back. I tugged my mouth away from his, trying to catch some air, but he was shortly after chasing my lips to pepper light kisses over them.

“I need…” I breathlessly muttered in between kisses “to close… down”

“I’ll help you” he replied, giving me one last, sloppy peck. “I’ll take you home after”

I could hardly close the door as soon as we entered my apartment. My hand was struggling, trying to get inside the lock as Yoongi peppered wet kisses down my neck while caressing my waist from behind me. A few minutes went by, my mind getting cloudier. He must have realized, because he chuckled against my neck, taking my shaking hand with his and rapidly locking the door “All set”

I turned around, taking his cheeks with my hands and directing his lips to mine, parting them to get better access to his hot mouth. I started walking, slowly but surely taking him down the corridor and right into my room, loudly closing the door once inside.

“Do you still agree with Auden?” Yoongi whispered, softly caressing my arm.

“M-hm” I muttered, fluttering my eyes open, throwing my leg over his own and getting closer to his collarbone “It is always better to be the one who loves.”

“Would you be willing to love even then, y/n?”

“One does not choose when, how or who they love, Yoongi” I detached myself from his chest, supporting my weight with my arm as I looked at him “And I think it’s better to love rather than being at the receiving end without even acknowledging it. It hurts, yes, but the feeling…”

“Yet he emphasizes the fact that he can, and will get over them. Is his love as strong as he claims?”

“It can be the strongest feeling, of course. Still, you cannot hang in there just because you are unable control it”

“Have you noticed that in those last lines, he openly admits he hadn’t missed them when they were gone? Is that what love is about?”

“If they hurt you, maybe” I yawned, going back to the comfort of his touch “You won’t miss them, but you still love them. It’s easy, young man”

“Is love easy?”

“Can you please shut your stunning mouth for a second, please? You’re the loudest hook up I’ve ever had”

“You were the loud one some minutes ago” he chuckled, caressing my back, and taking my chin with his hand. Making me look up, he left a couple of short but soft, tender kisses over my swollen lips.

“Goodnight, pianist”

“Goodnight, artist”

My phone woke me up from my slumber. Cold sheets met my hand, and I lifted my head from my pillow to take a look around my room.

He left.

I rejected whoever was calling me and got up from my bed, stretching out my limbs as I made my way to the living room. Empty.

Should have known that.

“It was just a hook up, y/n…” I murmured to myself, trying to get that in my head as fast as possible to avoid any kind of heartache. “He left as he shou-” I cut short my sentence when I noticed a scribbled piece of paper on my coffee table that wasn’t there the day before. I quickly took it, a smile plastered on my lips as soon as I started reading.

‘Last night I slept, and when I woke her kiss Still floated on my lips. For we had strayed Together in my dream, through some dim glade, Where the shy moonbeams scarce dared light our bliss. The air was dank with dew, between the trees, The hidden glow-worms kindled and were spent. Cheek pressed to cheek, the cool, the hot night-breeze Mingled our hair, our breath, and came and went, As sporting with our passion. Low and deep Spake in mine ear her voice: “And didst thou dream, This could be buried? This could be sleep? And love be thrall to death! Nay, whatso seem, Have faith, dear heart; this is the thing that is!” Thereon I woke, and on my lips her kiss.

Let’s meet again.

Min Yoongi’

in case you’re wondering, the poems featured here are ‘the more loving one’ by w.h. auden and ‘assurance’ by emma lazarus.

hope you enjoyed!

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userdokja · 5 years

Text

Not from around here || Kylo Ren x Reader || Six.

Summary: Reader is from earth, and is also a small writer. What happens if one day she randomly teleports and ends up in space, with people who had laser swords and troops who can’t shoot in the right direction?

Warnings: Curse words, My Writing and Grammar. A bit of Drama but that’s it.

Prologue || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Masterlist

It took Kylo two days before to come back, you haven't really talked to any of the knights aside from Vircul.

When Kylo arrived he barely talked to you, he was doing so meetings almost all the time, and if not he would be looking for a thing called a Sith Wayfinder.

Everytime the girl appeared you pretended that she wasn't there at all, of course she would try her best to get you to talk to her but you thought it would be safer that way. You couldn't help but meet her gaze though.

"Kylo said you'd be coming with us on the field." Vircul said, he was joined you on your walk around the ship. "Are you prepared for it?"

"The field? But I'm not yet ready." Of course you can beat up some guys here and there after all those.... Intense training with the knights but on the field? Hell no.

"Kylo says you are."

"Yeah well Kylo is wrong-" You were cut off by Vircul.

"Supreme Leader." Your blood ran cold as you turned to the person who blocked your way.

"I was wrong about what?" You felt like you should be scared, reason number one is because the troopers behind Kylo walked away from him, and two, Vircul just became a statue beside you.

"That I'm ready to go out there, I could barely use the force properly. Yesterday I accidentally threw Vir against the wall." You pointed your thumb to the Knight beside you.

"You're still going out there, you need to learn." Kylo said, you could barely hold back yourself from telling him to take off his mask. "Show me what you can do later in the training room."

He walked past you and Vircul without waiting for your reply.

"I am honestly surprised you're not dead yet." Vircul said as you continued walking. "Teach me your ways."

You laughed at him, "He does get mad at me though, but he doesn't do anything... He just yells, like a little kid." You giggled at the thought.

"You like him don't you?" Vircul asked in a low voice.

"Of course I like him, he's cool and can sometimes be a softie."

"No, as in you have a crush on him." When you didn't answer, Vircul got it. "You really like him don't you? I understand though, He's intimidating and has the looks."

"Right, you caught me." You sighed, "Just don't mention it to the others okay?" He nodded and zipped his lips, throwing the invisible key away.

"We need to go now."

----

You watched as Kylo fought with his Knight, his movement always so graceful even when he fought, he wasn't afraid to use actual weapons even if sometimes the blade grazed on his side.

"What did you like about him?" Vircul asked beside you, startling you as well.

"Don't do that you sneaky asshole. Why are you asking anyways?" He just shrugged but still waited for your answer. "Like you said, He... has the looks."

"And?"

"He can be this totally different person, he gives the best hugs-"

"He hugs?" you nodded at him. "Man, I've never imagined him hugging someone, if he did it would be death hugs." You laughed at him again, although you could really see why he thought that. "Are you ever going to tell him?"

"Hell no, his soft hugs might become death hugs. And you know I don't have a chance with him, you know Supreme Leader and all. Besides, it's just a crush nothing serious." Vircul hummed in reply, he was later on called by Cardo to train with him, and his seat was taken by Kuruk.

"You've been sitting there long enough, come on." He stood up again and you followed him, you really didn't want to train today since your nightmares have been eating up your sleep, giving you a headache when you wake up, Kuruk gave you a double sided blade this time. "You don't need to prove yourself to me, but he's here now."

You stared at him blankly, "So? His presence needs to mean something to me?"

"Yes." Kuruk said and started to attack, you blocked his attacks at first before getting back at him, you didn't really know how to use the weapon you have and you were also afraid that you might hurt yourself. He recovered from your attacks quickly and took his chance to try ans take away the weapon from you.

His blade cut the side of your shoulder, and blood started poring out slowly. You thought he was done, but he didn't stop attacking you. "I'm starting to think you want to kill me."

"I want you to do better." He replied and lowered his blade to graze his blade on your leg. You gritted your teeth, your eyes wandered behind him and saw Kylo's eyes on you with furrowed eyebrows and a slight pout on his lips. You sighed and tried to steady yourself as you went back to blocking his attacks.

"I think that's enough, Kuruk." You heard Vircul behind you. "She's hurt."

"Use the force, Y/n. Call to it!" You tried to do what Kuruk said but you could barely focus on him, our arm and leg was throbbing from pain, and you were sure you were making scratched on yourself with the weapon you were using.

"Shit, can we stop for bit?" You asked.

"You don't stop in a fight."

"We're training, goddamnit." You groaned, putting all your strength to your attacks, your legs finally gave out.

"Kuruk." Kylo said in a warning tone, but he didn't listen. "Kuruk!" Kylo's voice echoed throughout the training room, then he finally stopped. Kylo walked over to you and helped you stand up.

"Oh thank god, my arms feels like they're going to disintegrate." You panted, you met Kylo's gaze and you smiled at him.

"All of you will get some rest, your skills are needed tomorrow." Kylo says, "everyone is dismissed."

The knights nodded and picked their belongings before leaving, you were just doing the same before Kylo called your name.

"Yes?" You turned around to face him.

"Make sure to go to the med bay." He said.

"It's just a small cut, I'll take care of it myself. Thank you." You gave him another smile before leaving.

When you went back to your room you took a shower and tried to relax yourself for a bit, but when you walked out there was a nurse with her kit in your room.

"The Supreme Leader sent me here, to properly help you with your wounds." You nodded at her, "You can put on your clothes first ma'am."

You did what she said before laying down your bed, you watched as she put on the bandages on your shoulder and your side after cleaning them properly.

"Thank you." You said to her, she just bowed her head before leaving.

When she left you decided to give your mother a visit, which meant you can't make any trips anymore until next year.

When you got back there was a message on your datapad, It was Kylo saying that he was outside your quarters. You cursed to yourself as you realized that it was sent ten minutes ago.

You hurried to open the door, and there he was. "Sorry to keep you waiting, I just went to my mom."

"It's fine." You both stood there awkwardly before you offered for him to go inside, "No, no I just wanted to see if you're alright."

"Oh, well I'm still breathing." You joked, although you didn't expect him to laugh. "Is there anything else..?"

"Uhm.. I- I had a vision, when i touched your hand. back at the training room." He swallowed a lump on his throat as if he was afraid to tell you about it. "You were in pain, and I was there. I couldn't do anything about it."

"Are you scared that's going to happen?" His grumpy face quickly returned.

"I'm not scared, I simply wanted to inform you about it." You gave him a smirk.

"Right, You waited here for ten minutes just to tell me that?" You teased. "Or did you want to give me a goodnight kiss?"

Your own words surprised you, you didn't know where all the confidence came from, it was his turn to grin at you now, he crouched down a little bit and moved closer to your face until you could feel his breath against your skin.

"goodnight, Y/n." You stared at his eyes for a bit before clearing your throat and backing away.

"goodnight."

----

The next day, you were given an armor which was uncomfortable but it felt safe anyways. You were given a simple sword and a blaster which was on your belt, you boarded the ship everyone was on and sat beside the knights.

When you landed, you realized that you would be on an actual planet for a while, before you got out of the ship Kylo instructed that you stay with him, you followed everything he said without complaining.

You were inside this dark cave, you had a bad feeling about the whole thing but you were probably just nervous about the whole thing. you gripped on the handle of your blade tightly as Kylo lead the way.

"Stop." Kylo whispered. "There's something wrong here."

"What do you mean 'there's something wrong here'?" You whispered back, your blood ran cold as a blaster fired at your direction, barely missing the side of your face.

"Take cover." Kylo dragged you with him behind a wall, he pulled out his lightsaber and turned it on, you could barely see anything else but its red glow. "Just stay behind me."

You nodded, and pulled out your blaster instead of your sword, thankfully, Vircul taught you how to use it inside the ship. Kylo walked forward and you followed him, he deflected the shots with his lightsaber and used the force to throw the others out of the way. While you shot at whoever you could see.

"It's an ambush." You told him. "We need to warn the others."

"We need to get out of here first." Kylo groaned out in pain as a blast hit his shoulder, You both went back to your cover as they continued shooting, You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to think of something. You thought about travelling back to earth, but you've already used your two remaining trips, you looked at Kylo beside you and realized that there was nothing else you could do.

"Kylo." You raised your voice for him to hear.

"What?" He replied.

"Do you trust me?" He was about to ask what for, until he noticed the seriousness in your eyes.

"Of course." You sighed in relief and took his hand in your trembling ones, you pulled him close to you and closed your eyes, and you were gone in a second.

---

A/n: did I do that cliffhanger right? Please let me know what you think, Feedbacks are always appreciated!

Permanent Tags: @aintnouseofpretending @just4muggles @heartbeats-wildly @lookinsidemyhead @katiegoddessofmischief

Star Wars Tags: @melcutie

Series Tags: @i-just-wanna-run-hell @treestarrrrrrrr @rintheemolion @pan-lokistan @petalduck @mintchip17 @drawlfoy @channna

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #Ben Solo #ben solo x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #adam driver x reader #x reader

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snippetsnitch · 5 years

Text

(This prompt spooked around in my head for a really long time. 🤣 I know the season does not quite fit, but compassion and the spirit of Christmas are always valid, no matter the time of the year! 🌲 Please enjoy! 🖤)

#7 - Cold

[Hero] walked through the snowy streets, trying to take in everything that their eyes registered. The change in weather had been so sudden that no one in the city had taken precautions against the surprising winter. Only one week ago, the news had reported about "A surpassingly long term of really mild temperatures" for this autumn.

...How far that was away right now.

They looked down to the ground. It must have been already five inches. And it continued steadily. No busses, trains or taxis would drive this evening, maybe not even tomorrow. The whole city was astonied.

Rationally, [Hero] had every reason to be pessimistic about that. Everything was chaotic, locomotion was limited and their flat was isolated like shit eversince, allowing the freezing air to creep directly inside of their home.

Still, it felt peaceful. It seemed like everything was set into slow motion. The usual stress was muted by the tons of frozen water that sailed down the sky, making everything quiet.

[Hero] wondered when they had seen snow the last time. It must've been years. They didn't know they had missed it so much.

Maybe, [Hero] mused in their thoughts, they would even go to one of the Christmas markets tomorrow, just for the feeling of it.

Their eyes glid over the white alleys and a silent smile appeared on their features. Yes, they would go. They would go and enjoy themself. Take a break from their busy job and let their soul rest for some time.

They took a few more turns and just decided to go home, when they noticed something strange.

A shadow, only a few feet ahead of them. [Hero] approached with slow steps and frowned.

Their eyes widened when they recognized what the bulky umbrage in the white snow was: A person. Not moving and in a curled up position.

"Hey!", [Hero] called, hastily making their way towards them, "Hey, are you alright?" They kneeled next to the figure and gently shook them by the shoulder.

"Are you conscious? It's far too cold here to-"

The words got stuck in their throat, when they turned the stranger around and the shadows revealed who was laying in front of them:

[Villain]. Bloody and bruised.

[Hero] took in a sharp breath, instantly jerking away from the criminal. Their hand glid automatically to the place where their weapon would normally be, but there was nothing. They must have left it at home. Shit.

They looked around frantically.

Was this a trap?

Were [Villains] henchmen still here?

"D-Don't worry...I-I'm alone...", a faint voice murmured. It belonged to [Villain].

[Hero] looked down. Their actual nemesis had turned their head around, hazy eyes looking at them in a disoriented manner.

"A-Are you.. M-my guardian Angel...?"

Now that the lights shone onto them, [Hero] noticed the bruises that were covering [Villains] pale face. Their nose was broken too. All around were footprints and crimson splatters in the shuffled snow.

Paying closer attention, [Hero] also saw the little shudders that ran through [Villains] maltreated body.

How long had they lain here?

"[Villain], what-...What has happened to you...?", [Hero] asked hesistantly, still scanning the street for unwelcome attackers.

The criminal simpered blearily. [Hero] had never seen them smile, only grinning and sneering. Like this, [Villain] nearly looked like a decent human being. "I-I... didn't t-take care... of m-myself...", they murmured. They looked up to [Hero] with misty eyes. "..w-was s-so..stupid..."

[Hero] was astonished. Did [Villain] even know who was kneeling in front of them?

They looked around once again. It could be such a perfect way to lure them into their enemies claws. No one was approaching the streets and the snow would silence any kind of fight or action. They would be gone within a second.

[Villain] just had to make them feel pitiful enough to forget their cover.

But what if it was not a trap?

[Hero] was at loss. They could not just flee and let [Villain] be perished by the cold. They would never forgive themself, if there was even the slightest chance that their enemy was actually in danger.

All the time, [Villain] kept their mellow gaze on them, their fluttering eyelids already sprencled with frost.

"Goddamnit.", [Hero] chuntered. Their voice filled with frustration. "Why didn't I go home one alley ealier?"

They were caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. But they had to do something.

Swallowing their fear (and probably all of their common sense), [Hero] decided to take a closer look at [Villains] state. They cautiously approached their nemesis and gently pushed a hand into the collar of their shirt, still looking out for any attacks.

[Villains] skin was terribly cold. [Hero] gulped when they found the pulse: Far too low. "Can this be true..?", [Hero] questioned themself before removing their fingers carefully.

Was [Villain] really howering between life and death?

"T-they.. attacked m-me..", [Heros] nemesis breathed suddenly. Their gaze told [Hero] that they were only moments away from falling unconscious. "I c-can't m-mo..ve.. m-my legs... i-i'm..s-so col...d.." [Villains] eyes flickered and finally, their head sank down onto the pavement.

Oh god... This really wasn't staged.

What the hell should they do now? Nobody would be able to take [Villain] prisoner in this snowstorm. Nobody-

Suddenly, [Hero] froze. No one knew that they were here. No one knew that [Villain] was here.

The realization of the perfidious plan slowly perlocated through [Heros] mind: Someone had attacked and purposely dumped [Villain] here to let them die a slow and lonely death. The weather was perfect to avoid unwanted spectators and killed everyone who stayed too long within only a few hours. [Villain] had been made immobile and was left without any chance for rescue.

There was only one unforeseeable factor that could still cross that plan: [Hero].

What were the odds that someone else would find [Villain] in time? All the way through the streets, [Hero] hadn't seen a soul. It was a tight time slot, exclusively open for them. [Hero] shuddered.

The choice about their enemies' life laid in their hands.

Looking down, they noticed that [Villain] had stopped shivering. Their skin was slowly starting to turn blue.

One more hour and they were dead.

[Hero] had to make a decision. Now.

...Rationally, [Hero] knew that they should just leave them.

No one would suspect a thing. Hell, authorities would even be glad, if [Villain] was gone. There wouldn't be any further investigations that could damage [Heros] reputation and mark them as a criminal. They would be save and sound.

Also, if [Hero] saved them, everything [Villain] did in the future would automatically redound upon them. No matter if other people knew it or not, [Hero] would be at least partially responsible for [Villains] crimes.

They had to think about leaving them here.

But [Villain] was a human being. They were a person. A fucking criminal, a pain in the ass and an arrogant slug, but still: A person.

[Villain] was just as human as [Hero] and their team were.

God, what should they do? Wasn't [Hero] on the good side? Shouldn't they help others whenever it was possible? Even when the person in misery was [Villain]?

"[Villain]. Who robs, blackmails and threatens other people. Who brings nothing but trouble. You really think they are worth saving?", a sharp voice in [Heros] head asked. It sounded just like the one of their boss. "They are trash, nothing more."

"Trash...", [Hero] echoed silently.

Yes, that's what [Villain] was for their company. Not a person: Trash. A disruptive factor.

Taking a decision, [Hero] turned away and took a few steps.

It was true. They had to leave them. Everyone would be better off without [Villain]. Everyone would be safer.

...This was the right thing to do.

...But...

"Goddamn it!", [Hero] cursed and shook their head, hastily walking back to [Villain].

No. They couldn't do it.

They couldn't fucking do it.

Never would they forgive themself, if they extradited someone to death. Maybe their bosses were like that, but [Hero] wasn't. They couldn't just let someone die because it was easier. Or because that person was in the way. Because they didn't conform [Heros] moral standards.

They didn't care if it was weakness, but [Hero] was not like this.

They couldn't let [Villain] die.

They just couldn't.

Crouching down again, [Hero] moved closer towards their enemy and tried to sit them up. [Hero] took off their own coat and wrapped it tightly around [Villains] chilled body.

They would help them.

[Hero] wouldn't let their enemy die in the snow.

When they lifted them up, [Villain] murmured something inaudible before their head fell down onto their saviors chest. Half-dried blood smeared into [Heros] shirt.

They gulped nervously. Doubts, anxiety and guilt were rising up in their chest.

This was insane... This was so fucking insane.

"Don't make me regret this!", [Hero] hissed to their foe before struggling up their feet.

"Don't make me fucking regret this!"

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niksixx · 5 years

Text

Genghis Khan

Another song fic for you guys based off the song “Genghis Khan” by Miike Snow; Lyrics are in bold and italics! ☺️

Requested: Yes, by an Anon!

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

Description: Reader and Nikki are friends with benefits but Nikki doesn’t want a relationship but at the same time he doesn’t want reader with anyone else so he gets angry and jealous

Warning: Language, possessiveness

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And I don't have the right To ask where you go at night But the waves hit my head To think someone's in your bed”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nikki watched as Y/N slid off the bed, throwing on one of his ratted band shirts over her naked body. Her hair fell just below her shoulders, and somehow after three rounds of incredibly rough, raw sex, she looked like beauty in its purest form.

“Where are you going?” Nikki asked, body half covered by the blanket. “Got a late night booty call?”

Chuckling, Y/N rolled her eyes. “Nikki, the only late night booty call I get comes from you.”

That should’ve satisfied him, but the thought of Y/N sleeping with another man wriggled its way into Nikki’s thoughts. He had no right to ask where she went in the late hours of the night when she left him. They weren’t together, nor would they ever be.

But the thought still nagged at him. Hopping out of bed, Nikki slid on a pair of sweatpants before jogging to Y/N, who was halfway out the hotel door. “I’m serious, what are you doing?”

“It’s a secret,” she said, sending a wink in his direction. “I’ll be right back.”

Nikki felt like the biggest moron when Y/N came back in his room with cookies and vending machine treats stuffed in her arms. And to think she was leaving to fuck the dude down the hall…

“I told you I’d be right back,” she said, closing the door with her foot. Y/N dropped the treats on Nikki’s bed, patting the space next to her. “You fucked me to the point of starvation, so I stole some cookies from the front desk, oh and I also have candy bars, chips, and I got two sodas.”

Nikki and Y/N ate for a while in a comfortable silence. He’d met Y/N over a year ago, but he met the beautiful curves of her body three months ago. Nikki didn’t want a relationship and he was upfront about it, and Y/N understood. She wasn’t looking for anything serious either.

“Can I ask you something?” Nikki didn’t mean to let it slip from his mouth, but he had no choice to finish his question when he found Y/N looking at him expectantly. “Where do you go when you leave me? Are you seeing someone else?”

“I’m not even seeing you,” Y/N answered, sipping her soda. “We’re just having sex. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“It is,” Nikki said quickly. “I’m just curious.”

Shrugging, Y/N clutched her soda to her chest. “I go home, Nikki. There’s no one else in my life right now. When I find him, I’ll let you know.”

And Nikki would have to be content with that answer. For now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don't want you to get it on With nobody else but me”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nikki watched her dance with a man that wasn’t him the whole night. He’d nearly cracked the glass he was holding after watching as the man kissed up her neck. He was feeling possessive, protective, and fuck he tried pushing those feelings away. He’d bought one girl a drink and grinded with another on the dance floor, and still Nikki’s eyes wandered to Y/N.

After downing the last of his Jack Daniels, Nikki marched over to the crowded dance floor and grabbed Y/N’s arm. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like my girl back.”

“Nikki, what the fuck?” Y/N protested. With every curse that fell from her mouth she watched Nikki’s jaw clench. “Nikki, what is up with you?”

“Are you seriously going to dance with that dick knowing full well I’m watching you?” Nikki’s eyes grew dark. “I thought we agreed--.”

“We agreed to fuck,” Y/N said, throwing her arms up. “What is your problem?”

“My problem,” Nikki spat, “Is the fact that that guy wasn’t me. Goddamnit, Y/N, I don’t want you with anyone else.”

It was too much all at once. He didn’t want you, then he wanted you. Nikki couldn’t make up his mind, and it was frustrating you more and more each day when his possessiveness took over. “Nikki, you’re being complicated. I don’t fucking do complicated. Figure out what the hell you want.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“'Cause I don't really want you, girl But you can't be free 'Cause I'm selfish, I'm obscene”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were hesitant about talking to Nikki, but you had to know where you stood. Months ago you and Nikki agreed to be friends with benefits, both opposed to the idea of a relationship. In reality, you could fall in love with Nikki, but you weren’t ready to be fully committed. And over the past few days, it seemed like Nikki craved commitment.

He answered his hotel door with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. His eyes were drooping and you could smell the alcohol pouring out of his skin.

“What?” Nikki slurred, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. “A bit early for your dick appointment, aren’t ya?” Nikki smirked.

Rolling your eyes, you shoved past him and made your way into his room. You figured since he was drinking the other three boys were hiding somewhere in the room, but as you looked around, you realized Nikki had been drinking alone.

“We need to talk,” Sitting down on his sofa, you waited patiently for Nikki to plop down beside you. He sat at the opposite end of the couch, eyes focused on the bottle in his hand. You turned toward him, exasperated. “Nikki, I’m totally fine if you have feelings toward me. I’m flattered, honestly. I think maybe down the line we can try and work things out between us, but for now we should just--.”

“I don’t want you,” Nikki said, taking a swig of the brown liquid. His face was impassive as he drank from the bottle. “I don’t want you, but I’m a selfish prick who won’t let you go either.”

Angrily, you stood up and grabbed the whiskey bottle, throwing it against the ground. Nikki popped up from the couch, eyes blazing. “I have had enough of this back and forth shit. You are fucking with my head and my heart, Nikki Sixx. I am not your fucking toy. I’m a human with real human feelings.”

“And so am I,” Nikki raged, tugging at the ends of his hair. He looked like a madman. “And I hate that I fucking feel something for you. I can’t be that man who holds you in public or wipes your tears away, but fuck the thought of you with someone else drives me crazy, Y/N. I want you, but I don’t want you at all.”

Stepping up to Nikki’s face, you took one last look at the beautiful man in front of you because it would be the last time you ever saw him. “Whatever we have here? Done. I’m done. Fuck you.”

And Nikki didn’t even bother chasing after her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I wanna make up my mind But I don't know myself”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hadn’t seen her in weeks. Nikki hadn’t seen her face, held her body, or kissed her lips in three weeks. Every thought of her was accompanied by pain, deception, heartbreak, and anger. He needed her back more than ever, but for what? Sexual gratification? Love?

He couldn’t do that to her. He refused to string her along. Y/N deserved more than what Nikki had to offer.

The tour was over and the first thing Nikki did when he got home after throwing his suitcases on his bed was drive to Y/N’s apartment. He didn’t care if it was raining at one in the morning; He had to see her.

Nikki hesitated knocking on the door. Maybe he should have waited until later in the week. Y/N might not even want to see him at all. He wouldn’t blame her.

The door opened, startling Nikki, and his eyes focused on the girl standing in front of him. Even tired, Y/N was so incredibly beautiful. “I thought I said we’re done.”

“When have I ever listened to anyone?” Nikki joked lightly, but Y/N’s face never wavered. “I know it’s late, and it’s raining like a motherfucker out here, but I’ll make this quick. I need you, Y/N. I need you in my life somehow, someway.”

Crossing her arms, Y/N let out an aggravated breath. “You said you didn’t want me.”

“I know,” Nikki sighed. “I know I did. And I’m sorry. I thought I could just be friends with you and we could fool around and have harmless fun, but you got hurt in the end and it’s my fault. I need to make up my mind, but sweetheart, I don’t know if I’m capable of being a man worthy enough to be with you.”

“You haven’t tried,” Y/N said, tugging at the end of her sweatshirt. “I can’t wait around forever for you to figure out what you want. I won’t do it. I’m sorry, Nikki.”

“Baby, wait, please,” Without thinking, Nikki grabbed ahold of Y/N’s hand, pulling her out into the rain.

“Nikki!” She squealed, holding his shoulders. “Are you insane?”

“For you?” Nikki winked. “Absolutely.” And he kissed her with so much passion it was hard for Y/N to not kiss him back. As much as he missed her, Y/N missed him ten times more. It felt normal being in his arms again, like she belonged there.

And maybe she did.

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