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itsthemysterykids · 1 year

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Can we get more bnha au?

Coraline has been wanting to be a hero ever since she got her “weak quirk” to create illusions

Quirkest Rando: Oh, you can’t be a hero. Try being a magician.

Coraline: I WILL SPITE EVERYONE!

Norman wants to be a hero just to show everyone that “villainous quirks” don’t exist. A ghost quirk is fucking awesome!

His best friend is Neil, a boy with a “heroic quirk” to make as many shields as he wants… Only to lose a lot of energy when he makes too many

They’re everyone’s problem at school and like to screw people over when they saw quirkist bullshit by making illusions of students doing embarrassing stuff and making a teacher’s coffee mug float away

Then while walking past the school lab, Wybie literally crashes into them thanks to another explosion

He’s an eccentric inventor aiming for UA’s support course even with his “heroic quirk”, [Censored by the Future CEO of Blacksmith Industries], but he keeps the hero course as an option, too

Wybie designs all sort of support equipment for them to strengthen their quirks and doesn’t skip out on any add-ons

Then it’s their last year of junior high, they’ve been training for months and are finally ready for the Hero Course Entrance Exam

Coraline uses her illusions to throw off the robots and have them destroy each other, Neil makes shields to protect some students and even throws some at the robots, Norman possesses one, and Wybie pulls a cannon out of nowhere and starts firing at the robots

Then comes the Zero Pointer and everyone is freaking the fuck out

Panicked when he sees the Zero Pointer about to crush one of the students, Norman sends a surge of energy all throughout the entrance exam location, destroying nearly every single robot and leaving many of the potential students dazed or confused… Then he passes out

Fortunately, the School’s Nurse, Aizawa-Yamada Eri is there to fix everyone up with her quirk, but no one can ever forget what the hell Norman just did

… Also, after taking the Exam, Wybie takes the Support Course’s Entrance Exam… So, yeah

A week passes and they all get their letters. Like best friends, they open them together and see holograms of the #8 Pro Hero, Convince. He welcomes them all into the Hero Course. And while he did get into the Support Course, Wybie chooses the Hero Course

Fast forward and it’s the first day of school, yay! They get to class and meet their new classmates, Lili Zanotto, Kubo, Dipper and Mabel Pines, Dib and Gaz Membrane who all got in on a recommendation, Raz Aquato, Eggs Trubshaw, Winnie Portley-Rind, Agatha Prenderghast, Kat Elliot, and Raúl Cocolotl

Their teacher is the #5 Pro Hero, Intel, and Dipper and Mabel’s great uncle

After orientation, Intel takes them out to the training field for some warmups. (Don’t worry, no one’s getting expelled, he’s just analyzing them and their quirks to see how far ahead they are with training)

Lili has pretty good control over her quirk and makes all sorts of plants to hinder her opponents, but she relies too much on them

Raz keeps getting his legs tangled when he stretches too far, so they’ll need to work on that

He’s guessing Kat has some sort of future vision since she always seems to know what someone is going to do before they do it

Raúl’s ink is good for traveling, almost reminding him of Pinky

Winnie’s quirk powers up her overall abilities, which will be good when in battle, but there is always room for improvement

Eggs’ burrowing quirk requires some good upper body strength, so until they can come up with a workout plan, arm braces will be needed

Coraline’s ability to create illusions seems to leave her with strained eyes, so that’s something to tell the Design Department about. Other than that, she has an amazing imagination

At first, Ford guessed Wybie was creating weapons from his lipids like Creati, but found out [Censored by Future Pro Hero, Blacksmith] Anyway, his hero uniform will need zippers

Norman and Agatha seem to have the same power, but are on very different levels, most likely due to their families suppressing their quirks… He’ll call CPS later

Dipper’s quirk was excellent during the “definitely not hide and seek” portion of the training as he was able to find everyone in under a minute, so he’ll be an excellent rescue hero

Mabel has obviously been practicing since she’s no longer getting tangled in her yarn anymore

He’s making a note to have Neil keep energy bars in his utility belt in the events he wears himself out when creating too many shields

He was… Not too terrified of Gaz or her teleportation, levitation, and pyrokinesis… He doesn’t want to question how she has a 3-in-1 quirk, and it’s best to leave it at that

Dib’s durability quirk is certainly one of the best he’s seen so far. He punched a wall without so much as a scratch on his fist. If no damage is to come to his uniform, he’ll need one made from his DNA

Kubo's quirk relies on him playing music, and while his whistling is good, he can’t keep it up forever, so an instrument is needed for his uniform, along with lots of paper

Once the school day is over, Mabel suggests that all of them should hang out and get to know each other better. Lili and Gaz would rather face a villain than do that, but Mabel is very good at convincing people… By that, I mean she ties people up in her yarn and drags them everywhere

Dib, being the conspiracy theorist he is believed that Norman and Agatha are distant relatives, hence their similar quirks, but they reject the idea every time he brings it up. And it’s not just them.

Dib: Wybie… Are you Creati’s secret love child, or something.

Wybie: … What?

This gets a few of them interested since they don’t know how his quirk works, and he’s not saying anything, no matter how much they bribe him

Then comes the day that they all (especially Mabel) have been waiting for… THEIR HERO UNIFORMS!

Coraline comes equipped with goggles for when her eyes get too strained, Wybie’s uniform has zippers and thermals, Dipper has a camera built into his costume, Lili has spray bottles for her plants to keep them around longer, Raz’s suit can stretch all across the country if one were to try, Norman’s is made from his hair so it becomes intangible with him, Mabel’s utility belt is made of an endless yarn so she always has some on her, Neil’s utility belt comes equipped with energy pills, Raúl’s boots are similar to Pinky’s so he can travel easier, Kat’s come with eye contacts so no one can tell when she’s using her quirk, Eggs has his arm braces, Winnie has those gauntlets she’s been begging for, Dib’s got his DNA suit, Gaz’s is something out of nightmares, Kubo’s comes equipped with a durable shamisen and water-proof origami paper, and Agatha’s is similar to Norman’s, but in lighter colors

In short, they look badass

Intel has them test out the features of their suits during another Battle simulation in case any changes are needed

This next simulation is a Heroes vs Villains exercise where they will get into groups of two, either hero or villain, and face off against another group of two, also either a hero or villain

And to make things harder, he has them pair up with people they don’t know

Heroes:

Lili/Kat

Wybie/Kubo

Dipper/Gaz

Norman/Eggs

Villains:

Coraline/Mabel

Agatha/Raúl

Raz/Neil

Winnie/Dib

It goes well as you can expect it to go for fifteen year-olds

Long story short… Explosion

… Well, enough of that, because let’s see them act like normal teenagers at the mall!

Norman: For most of my life, everyone always told me I had a villainous quirk, that all I’m good for is hurting people just because I accidentally possessed a classmate when I was five. So, that’s why I want to be a hero, to show everyone there’s no such thing as “villain” quirks.

Agatha: Amen.

Coraline: Respect. So, Kat, is Sir Nighteye like an inspiration for you?

Kat: *Sipping her smoothie* … Eh, not really. I just wanna freak villains out and show them their futures if they continue down their path.

Wybie: Well, you won’t cause a ton of collateral damage that way, so that’s good. You can make them surrender just by showing them their graves or mutilated bodies.

Kat: Exactly.

Students: …

Lili: … Well, on that dark note, Mabel. Not not curious, but why do you want to be a hero?

Mabel: Well, almost everyone else in the family is a hero, so Dipper and I thought it’d be cool to keep the legacy going. The Wonder Twin Duo, Yarn Queen and Expert Tracker!

Dipper: I did not agree to that name!

Mabel: But you love it!

Winnie: Also not not curious, Wybie. How does your quirk work?

Wybie: Look, it’s embarrassing, so let’s leave it at that.

Dib: I’m legally classified as a bulldozer, so I doubt you have anything to worry about.

Wybie: … I sweat metal, and I use it to create different weapons.

Dib: Boy, you nasty! *Gaz hits him over the head*

Gaz: I think that’s pretty cool

Fast-Forward a bit, and it’s time to pick hero names! Names will be approved by the Quick Hero, Sister Hightail

Coraline’s The Illusion Hero: Illusia

Wybie: The Creation Hero: Blacksmith

Dipper: The Sight Hero: Expert Tracker

Mabel: The Knitting Hero: Yarn Queen

Norman: The Ghostly Hero: Phantom

Neil: The Protective Hero: Shelter

Agatha: The Haunting Hero: Poltergeist

Kat: The Clairvoyant Hero: Hell Maiden

Raúl: The Creative Hero: Ink Blot

Dib: The Durable Hero: Unbreakable

Gaz: The Multi-Hero: Kraken

Raz: The Stretching Hero: Elasti-Guy

Lili: The Garden Hero: Ivy

Eggs: The Burrowing Hero: Excavator

Winnie: The Power-Up Hero: 1-UP

Kubo: The Origami Hero: Two-String

Then it comes up to the day where they face actual villains… AND THEY AREN’T READY FOR THIS!

They’re up against the Cipher League, a team who has pledged their allegiance to the greatest villain of all time, Cipher

Of course, they’re panicking, but one inspirational speech for Norman later, and they’re kicking ass

Kat: … Pyronica’s coming to you on your left.

Lili: *Sprays Pyronica with her bottles until her flames go out* Anything else?

Kay: Nah, the others are going after our classmates. Just keep spraying her down.

—

Dipper: *Keeping a lookout for Hectorgon* We need some kind of- *Hears a zipping sound and turns to see a broadsword coming out of Wybie’s arm* … Uh…

Wybie: I’d prefer if you didn’t watch.

—

Coraline: *Creating an illusion so she, Raúl, and Eggs can slip by Paci-Fire* Eggs, when I give the signal, you tunnel us outta hero. Then Raúl, block the entrance so he can’t get through.

After a ton of trauma, and their homeroom teacher would have been dead if not for Norman, it comes down to the week they’ve all be waiting for… The week of the Sports Festival!

Class 1-A is training until it hurts, not just to win, but to keep their spots in the class in case someone from Gen-Ed is gunning for it

Then it’s the day of the Sports Festival. Pro Heroes have come to watch, scout the students for potential interns, and just to have some quality entertainment. Yeah, nothing like watching powered kids battle.

First, is the Obstacle Race where hundreds of students put aside friendships and destroy each other for gold!

Lili, Raz, Wybie, Eggs, Raúl, Winnie, Dib, and Gaz are ahead, Norman and Agatha possess some faster-looking students to get ahead, Coraline creates illusions of obstacles to hinder the other students, after using her future vision, Kat hitches a ride on the fastest student, Kubo is creating eagles to fly him to the finish line by whistling, and Dipper and Mabel are hitching a ride on Mabel’s yarn snake

In First, Gaz, using her teleportation

In Second, Lili using her vines

In Third, Eggs burrowing himself to the finish

And, I won’t bore you with the rest, because now it’s time for THE SUDDEN DEATH- Whoops. I mean, CALVARY BATTLE!

And since Gaz won first… She’s the one everyone will be gunning for. She’s so terrified

Teams are formed, temporary enemies are made, and… BEGIN THE SUDDEN DEATH ROUND!

It’s chaos, but Gaz is scraping by. Fortunately, she has Raz’s stretching powers to snatch the headbands, Neil’s shield to block off any opponents, and Kat to predict any attacks

Coraline creates three illusions of her team (Raúl, Mabel, Dipper) to throw her opponents off, and manages to snatch a Gen-Ed student’s headband worth fifteen points

And the principal made it clear, ‘Malicious Intent’ is not allowed. Well, flower petal cannons aren’t malicious, now are they?

Lili/Wybie: *High five as they shoot flower petals in their opponents faces* Team Flowersmith for the win!

In the end, Coraline’s team comes out on top!

And it all comes down to the final event! The One on One Fighting Tournament! Our finalists are Gaz, Raz, Neil, Kat, Coraline, Raúl, Mabel, Dipper, Wybie, Lili, Norman, Kubo, Sam Manson, Tulip Olsen, Mirabel Madrigal, and Marco Diaz (Gotta have more characters)

First Round:

Norman Babcock vs Sam Manson: Sam’s shadow travel powers are not ideal for this setting, but she manages by pulling sneak attacks on Norman using the small shadows of the debris caused by his attacks. Unfortunately, he gets the better of her with his powers and comes out on top

Coraline Jones vs Mirabel Madrigal: Mirabel’s Quirk is one she calls Gift, a quirk that allows her to borrow the quirks of others for up to fifteen minutes. For this, she borrowed her sisters superstrength and ability to grow any plant. While she was thrown off by Coraline’s illusions a few times, she triumphed using Jacaranda’s signature Cactus Punch

Wyborne Lovat vs Neil Downe: Can Wybie’s numerous weapons defeat Neil’s shield? Let’s see! Having known Neil for years, Wybie knows that by his fifth shield, he’ll start to tire out, giving him a chance to strike. While Neil does surprise him by making a sixth and seventh shield, Wybie takes this moment to knock him out of the ring using a battering ram

Tulip Olsen vs Lili Zanotto: Tulip’s quirk allowed her to create clones of herself by looking in a mirror, and she just so happens to have a compact on her. Taking inspiration from Jacaranda, Lili delivers a powerful Cactus Punch, shattering the mirror clones and then pulling Tulip out of the ring using her vines

Gaz Membrane vs Raz Aquato: The acrobat vs the multi-quirk user! Gaz is able to throw Raz off using her teleportation and pyrokinesis, resulting in the boy turning into a tangled mess and resulting in her victory

Marco Diaz va Mabel Pines: Marco’s quirk allows him to turn his body parts into limbs based off of monsters from different mythologies. For this battle, he chose to give himself tentacle arms to fend off against Mabel’s yarn snake along with large butterfly wings to evade her attacks. The battle ends with him using a set of devil horns to have the snake unravel and using the wind created from his wings to blow Mabel out of the ring

Kubo vs Kat Elliot: Kat holds off against Kubo’s origami offense for up to thirty minutes by predicting their moves. Kubo, meanwhile, is running out of breath from whistling so much, but manages. Eventually, the referee calls for a draw, and we’ll come back to them later

Dipper Pines vs Raúl Cocolotl: Dipper’s quirk isn’t considered suited for battle, but with enough training, he’ll be able to predict people’s movements. But for right now, he’s fighting quirkless against Raúl’s ink, which often causes him to slip if he steps on it. But, grabbing a handful of the ink, Dipper throws it in Raúl’s face and blinds him before pushing him out of the ring. Resulting in his win

Tie Breaker: Arm Wrestling Match

Kubo vs Kat Elliot… Kat wins

Quarter-Final Round

Norman Babcock vs Mirabel Madrigal: Things are heating up when former Pro Hero, Miracle comes to watch the Sports Festival. Mirabel is giving it everything she’s got against Norman, using all of her family’s quirks, weather control, shapeshifting, super strength, creating plants, etc. Norman can see she’s suffering from a burnout and warns her against wielding so many quirks at once, but she yells at him to shut up. She needs to win this so that her Abuela, Miracle will finally be proud of her and not see her Quirk as something useless since she has to rely on others’ quirks. She doesn’t have a quirk to call her own, believing that makes her a failure in her family’s eyes, so she’s determined to win. Unbeknownst to Mirabel, she starts glowing a bright gold, gold translucent butterfly wings appear on her back, and a sudden energy bursts from her hands and knocks Norman out of the ring

Wybie Lovat vs Lili Zanotto: Lili creates oak trees to deflect against Wybie’s tungsten shuriken, but then he gets all badass and creates a chainsaw to cut through every single one of her defenses until she’s backed out of the ring

Gaz Membrane vs Marco Diaz: Gaz uses her levitation to evade Marco when he grows another pair of wings, and uses her pyrokinesis to throw fireballs at him so he’s forced to dodge until he doesn’t see her coming and she’s throwing him out of the ring and into the stands

Kat Elliot vs Dipper Pines: Like with Kubo, Kat is able to easily dodge Dipper’s attacks and they fight quirkless the entire time, impressing quite a few underground heroes. It’s Kat who wins when she knocks Dipper out cold

Semi-Final Round

Mirabel Madrigal vs Wybie Lovat: Wybie is out from the moment Mirabel uses her sister’s super strength to throw him into the stands. Fortunately, Uravity catches him

Gaz Membrane vs Kat Elliot: Kat’s still untouchable and dodges all of Gaz’s fire attacks and knows just where she’ll pop up with her teleportation. Though, she’s not prepared for the ring of fire, Kat knows Gaz can be unpredictable and prepares for any sort of outcome until finally, they’re near the edge of the arena and Kat flips Gaz over her shoulder and out of the arena

Final Round:

Kat Elliot vs Mirabel Madrigal: Mirabel’s stocked up on an assortment of quirks, but Kat remains in the ring and does everything she can to dodge Mirabel’s attacks and even tries to knock some sense into her

Kat: Why the hell do you care what some old lady thinks?! This is your quirk! She doesn’t tell you if it’s useless or not! Look at you! You’re in the final round of the Sports Festival! This YOUR quirk, Mirabel! Not Miracle’s, not Jacaranda’s, not Miss Gossip’s, yours! And don’t let anyone tell you what it’s good for!

Suddenly, the glowing returns, and Mirabel’s wings appear again. Like before, she blasts Kat out of the arena, resulting in her winning the Sports Festival

… Well, that’s all I got. Anyone wanna add on?

#coraline #mystery kids #paranorman #gravity falls #psychonauts #the mystery kids #answered ask #ask stuff #wendell & wild #invader zim #the boxtrolls #kubo and the two strings #encanto #star vs the forces of evil #infinity train #danny phantom

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

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@butterfly-mochi Rewrote this freaking thing thrice because it keeps getting deleted wth tumblr agjvahkfajkvk- I enjoyed writing it a lot tho and since I’m too weak to the characters I ended up writing for all of them (except for Sucrose, im sorry bb huhu, I ran out of brain power). This is my first time writing for so many of them in one go so please excuse me for any mistakes or blandness ywy thank you for letting me write for my baby Ganyu too hhhhh

Universe Reversal 2

Genshin Impact Character Reader and Modern Players with Zhongli, Childe & Ganyu (how they simp for you) (event masterlist / Part 1 / Part 3)

Zhongli the F2P

The most relatable out of the bunch because this man is still broke and can only rely on the primogems he can farm. And he had a LOT. The one thing he doesn’t have a lot on, however, is his luck.

So how did he manage to pull you?: Well after exhausting all his primogem on your banner with nothing but weapons and other characters, he has lost his resolve. But by some weird luck, there was a character bug that was fixed and in his email was the almighty consolation primogem. Enough for ONE pull. And by the Gods he FINALLY got you.

He’d nonchalantly post his screenshot of pulling you using a single acquaint fate in his friend group without any words and everyone else just loses their shit. “You got them in one pull?!” “Yeah” A riot.

This was partnered with the fact that not only is Zhongli an F2P player, but also barely has any five star characters.

He looks calm and apathetic over the news, but behind the screen he’s exhausted and relieved, silently livid.

He has no primogems left to squeeze for a constellation so you’re instead pampered with the best weapon suitable for you (because that’s all he keeps getting).

Zhongles spends most of his time farming for materials to quickly level you up, unlocking all your stories and voiceline, but he fucked up on your build (his artifacts are messy).

He follows communities, forums and videos regarding your character to know all the things he needs to perfect your build. You can barely make a dent against normal mobs, so he knew he was doing something VERY wrong.

Is the type of person to keep refreshing the page for new content, very updated.

Ask him a question about your character and he’s gonna bring you the word vomit that is his research. He’s not gonna stop- probably accidentally developed a copypasta for you.

Also follows your VA in both Tiktok and Twitter to indulge in every bit of content. He also has that screenshot of his pull saved and locked.

On his birthday, a friend of his gifted him a chibi plushie of you and he has treasured it ever since, treating and handling it like its a figurine.

“It is merely pure luck and grace from the gacha gods that I got this character, and I will make sure that they know I am very grateful for this fortune.”

Favorite Voiceline: Birthday Message

Childe The Whaler

This lucky wealthy bastard with no remorse for his money whales for EVERY character. He’s making a collection, which is to get all the characters, especially the five stars. So when your banner finally popped up, he’s gonna square up and trigger a whole ass meteor shower.

How he pulled you: Money. His luck with this games are actually not the best so he always compensates with money, he got you halfway through the first failed pity, almost giving him a heart attack that he might actually break the bank just to get you.

And then he pulls more to raise your constellation lol.

The first thing he does is look over your character info and read through it all; constellation infos, your base stats, artifact compatibility.

At the end when he’s maximized everything, he would then focus on playing around with your character *coughs climbing noises coughs*

He thought you’d just be another part of his collection but playing with your character was very enjoyable and in-line with his playstyle- oops 100 screenshots with the Kamera-

Any and all merchandise that he fancies would be his, and he’s definitely flexing it to the other sweetie nerds who call themselves simps. He’s fighting for the simping title, and he’s currently neck and neck with this fanartist in Pixiv.

Speaking of that fanartist, he definitely commissioned an expensive and detailed portrait of you, full rights and everything. No one else was allowed to use it but him.

Was also the first one with the audacity to call out your VA to create an account on Tiktok to create more content with your voice. He was successful.

His obssession also comes in the form of self-indulgent contents, and had been keeping track of the ship wars happening. During conventions, he cosplays as the character shipped with you the most (or the character he thinks should end up with you).

Silently scrutinizing those who cosplay you, only ever taking pictures with/of the best looking one, sorry haha

Definitely flaunts that you are his waifu/husbando and will fight for best girl/best boy during debates or polls. Has mobilized the community to vote for you once. He’s very persuasive.

“Hm? Why I’m just the best collector in the game, and I am more than happy to let everyone know that I am their number one fan haha, everyone who claims otherwise is definitely wrong!”

Favorite Voiceline: More About (Y/N) I-IV, (Y/N)’s Hobbies...

Ganyu the Employed

Ganyu, our dearest overworker, is one of the players in the older stage who actually has a job but still plays Genshin for their past times. The gorgeous sceneries and the music is her main focus in playing the game, not much of a try-hard but still decent in the combat mechanics.

How she pulled you: You came home within 50 pulls! And you appeared again after another 10 pull! Ganyu was so SHOOKT and so distressed because oh goodness, what does she do? She doesn’t know anything much about you!

Will rewatch your three trailers to try and understand your skills better, ended up saving the soundtracks from them because that was such a nice trailer music! Tnbee gains a new follower!

Ganyu will take a while before she can properly play or build you up because she’s so busy with work, she only ever plays when she feels fully done with her work.

During her break she plays with your character while multi-tasking on eating, earphones plugged in and sight on the phone as she farms materials and artifacts for you.

The moment she gets more help from her player friends tho, holy shit, you just ended up being so OP. She had so many good artifacts and weapons for you because she didn’t know what they were for before.

She loves how you’re so easy to use and can easily solo the enemies and even the boss fights. A huge breather, because now Ganyu can cheese the battles that takes a while, to give her more time to focus on the storyline and lores.

Since Ganyu plays for the story and aesthetic, she’ll find you almost always in her team. Still very proud of her pull, she makes the best screenshots of your fights or in the best angle through exploration.

Treasures you so much she starts talking to her phone- “Ah, no, please don’t fall.” “There’s violetgrass up there, let’s try and get it”

Blushes everytime you produce a sound when climbing, doesn’t change you anyways tho

Hums to your trailer music while working, and if permitted, would have the song on repeat while she buries herself in work. She finds it really refreshing and the time she spends in work miraculously flies by fast when she gets lost in the sound.

At one point, when she was given a day-off or if the convention was on her free time, she attends to look for cosplayers of you and take a picture. No one rejects her because she’s so adorable and cute when asking shyly.

Had brought a decent amount of merchandise, preferably the functional/practical ones like a phone cover, mug or keychain. Also has an earphones clamp with your little chibi self as the holder.

When asked, she would shyly announce that she likes your character the most.

“Their character theme and music really soothes me during work, it feels nice to have them, and I have not once regretted ever pulling for them. They are the best.”

Favorite Voicelines: Good Night/Afternoon..., About Us, Something To Share..., Interesting Things...

so enjoyable...

@moaa @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #ganyu x reader #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact childe #genshin impact ganyu #exile.circlet #exile.flower #sojourner specials #reeeeeeeeee #gender neutral

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

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Aliit Be Cuur

Pairings: Mando x Reader

Summary: While waiting in the hospital in Mos Pelgo after you were inured in the attack on the Krayt Dragon, Mando accidentally learns some life changing information for the both of you. You’re pregnant.

Warnings: Description of injuries, Pregnancy, Talk about miscarriage, Mando sees a sonogram-like image of reader’s uterus while she’s unconscious, general discussion of pregnancy while reader is unconscious and unaware, made up Star Wars level medical equipment

Word Count: 2800

Read Part 2 Here!

________________________________________

Watching you lay unconscious, body littered in cuts and burns, had to be the most terrifying thing Mando had ever experienced, and that was coming from a man that had seen some horrific things in his life. It was his fault you were hurt. If only his plan to kill the Krayt Dragon had gone as it was supposed to, you wouldn’t be in this position. This was supposed to be what he was good at. Killing. Sure, he killed the dragon, but at what cost?

When the initial plan of luring out the dragon and detonating the explosive just at his weak spot under his belly had gone south, he knew he had to think of something else. He could not leave the Mandalorian armor with Cobb Vanth. He needed it back.

The plan to use the bantha as bait had come to him quickly but he should have known better than to not tell you what he was doing. There was just no time. Everything had happened so fast. After months of travelling together, he’d hoped that maybe by some miracle, you could read his mind and know that everything was going to be okay when he allowed the dragon to swallow him with the bantha.

You were with the villagers and Tusken Raiders, struggling to fix the devices you’d built to throw the harpoons so you’d have a fighting chance. Being so caught up in your own tasks, sweat beading on your forehead from the heat and pressure, you hadn’t known Mando had strapped explosives to the bantha and was using it as bait. A loud screeching roar from the dragon ripped your attention away from the trying to kick a piece of wood back into place just in time to see the dragon’s mouth open, massive teeth bared, as it plunged down, straight on top of Mando and the bantha.

You screamed in horror, running towards the beast, “MANDO!” About halfway there from your post, you whipped out your blaster and shot at the beast as it dove back into the sand. The lasers were useless and you knew that but it was the only thing you could think of to do. Your legs fumbled to a halt, the realization that Mando was really gone actually hitting you.

But then something else hit you.

There was a loud explosion and a wave of fire, rocks, sand, and dragon flesh hit you, throwing your body back. The last thing you saw was the wave of orange and red coming at you before everything went black.

Just as planned, Mando had managed to escape the beast’s clutches before the explosion but suddenly regretted every decision he’d ever made when he saw the little figure of your body running towards where you assumed Mando to be. Even from dozens of feet in the air, he knew it was you. He couldn’t imagine anyone else there willing to run straight at the monster to try and save him. The bombs were sure to detonate any second but by the time he’d noticed you, it was too late. The bomb detonated with a massive wave of heat and debris.

He watched in horror as your body flew back at least twenty feet before sliding another fifteen across the sand after the impact. Time seemed to stop around him as he jetted to you in less than a few seconds. He couldn’t breathe, fear that he had caused your death choking his airways. “Y/N!” He yelled, landing harshly on his feet right beside you before falling to his knees. You were lying face down, eyes closed. “Y/N, talk to me.” Mando looked over your body and, by some miracle, there didn’t appear to be any broken bones, at least not any that looked immediately disfiguring. With a nearly effortless nudge, he rolled your body over. Your clothes had been ripped and/ or singed in many places. Multiple large holes in your pants revealed reddening burns and blood dripping from sand scraped skin. Your shirt was torn in multiple places, the left strap of your shirt torn so severely it could barely count as a sleeve. The side of your face that was on the sand was also scraped up, thankfully not too deep, but enough to cause bleeding.

Now the two of you were in the little hospital in Mos Pelga, along with the rest of those who'd been injured in the attack. You slept now, bandages covering large portions of you body that was now largely exposed. They had had to strip you down to your underwear to reach all the wounds but had wrapped your chest in wrappings in place of a bra for the sake of your privacy. Mando had pulled his cape over the majority of your body, knowing you'd be upset if you were to wake up practically naked in front of everyone.

He hadn't left your side since the explosion. He carried you to the infirmary. He laid you down on the cot. He watched as both human nurses and medic droids worked to patch you up and take blood for tests. They had told Mando that they wouldn’t know anything for sure until the tests came back. Even with the bacta that they’d lathered on you, it would take time for it to work and there was a possibility for further damage that they couldn’t see on the outside.

The child had been sleeping in his little cot, sealed up safely inside the levitating metal object. Mando had just been sitting beside you on a crate, leaning forward on his knees. This was his fault. He should have known you’d run in. He should have known that something like this could happen.

“Mandalorian.” A robotic voice gently called for Mando’s attention.

He looked up at the awkwardly proportioned grey medic droid who stood on the opposite side of the bed. “Is she going to be okay?”

The droid spoke again, its body shifting unnecessarily to emphasize some of its words, “Patient 728, also known as Y/N. Female. Age: (Y/A). 2nd degree burns on the abdomen, arms, and legs. Superficial graze abrasions on the face, neck, arms, hands, abdomen, and legs. Bruising on face, back, hips, and legs. Probability of death: 7%. No damage to the fetus. Probability of miscarriage: 19%.”

Mando found a hard time finding any solace in the words of a droid. When a young male nurse walked up beside the droid, Mando immediately turned his attention to him.

“It’s a miracle the baby survived unharmed. I’ve seen much less cause a miscarriage.” The nurse mused, flipping through the clipboard in his hands.

Mando stood up, brows furrowed beneath the helmet, “That must be someone else’s chart.”

The nurse flipped back to the front page, “Patient 728? Y/N L/N?” The young man confirmed.

“Yes.”

He shook his head, “Nope, this is hers.”

Mando gestured to you, “There must have been a mistake. She’s not pregnant.”

The young nurse looked at the beskar helmet that he was actually slightly taller than and swallowed hard, “I’m sorry. I assumed that you were the father. If not, this is confidential information that I can’t share with you.” It was obvious that the man was afraid to stand up to a Mandalorian, surely hundreds of stories of their superior killing ability running through his head. Nonetheless, he held fast to what was right.

Mando’s head was reeling and all he wanted was to run and take off the helmet and take actual, non-filtered breaths. Instead, he was wide eyed and silent as thoughts ran through his head a million lightyears an hour. The beskar betrayed none of his emotions. To the rest of the world, he appeared frozen, standing strong and staring right at the nurse when in reality Mando had zoned out somewhere off to the side.

If you were pregnant, the baby had to be his. For the last few months, the two of you had had an unofficial relationship of sorts. Nothing was ever said, no official labels, but the two of you behaved like any other couple, or at least a much less touchy-feely version of one. After a night of confessions brought on by an unrelated argument, it had become an unspoken truth that you were only taken by each other. You were his riduur, no doubt, and, as far as he knew, he was yours. You would never lay with another man as long as you and Mando were together, that much he was sure of.

“If she’s pregnant, I am the father.” His voice was calm as always but he thanked the modulator for the slight distortion. If it hadn’t been there, he would have sounded shaky.

The nurse sighed, choosing to believe him because he really didn’t see much use in lying over something like this. He flipped to the next page on his chart and walked over to stand beside Mando, pointing at some numbers that meant nothing to him. “hCG is a hormone that’s created in the placenta and is only present in pregnant women. According to her levels, I’d say she’s about eight weeks.” He paused for a moment, allowing time for the new information to sink in. “You really didn’t know?”

“If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have let her fight the Krayt Dragon.” Mando snapped, almost angry at the mere suggestion that he would put his own child in that sort of danger.

The nurse put his hand up in defense before continuing, “Do you think she knows?”

Mando shook his head. He believed that you still would have jumped into battle even if you had known, at least from a distance. It was just who you were. But he really didn’t think you had any idea that you were pregnant. Mando had been trained to read people his entire life and surely such news would have brought about some change in your demeanor. Mando hadn’t noticed any change in your behavior. Besides, he would like to believe that you would have told him if you knew.

He couldn’t believe this. How were you pregnant? Okay, well he knew how you could have possibly gotten pregnant but the two of you had always tried to be as safe as you could to avoid this exact scenario. Neither of you were in a position for children, the Child being a special circumstance. Your life was full of danger and violence. How could Mando protect you for an entire nine months while pregnant and then for the rest of forever, while also protecting the Child against what felt like an entire galaxy that wanted him at any cost?

“Do you want to see?” The nurse’s voice brought Mando back to the present and his helmet tilted in curiosity.

“See what?”

“The baby. I need to do a scan to ensure that it's still doing alright. You can see the fetus on the screen while you scan.” He set the clipboard at the foot of your bed and procured a moderately sized glass panel with a metal border that he’d had pinned between his arm and side while he spoke to Mando.

With a few taps on the glass, bright blue words and images appeared. He tapped on one selection and the middle of the screen cleared, aside from a thin column on the right hand side that had stats and vitals. “See, if you put anything under this, it will show you an interior view of the body. This mode shows organs and blood vessels and stuff like that. See?” The nurse put his hand under the glass panel. The screen showed a light blue version of his hand but instead of skin and nails, it clearly showed the lines of his muscles and the veins that overlapped them clearly.

Politely as he could, he pulled the cape that had been draped over you down just enough to expose your lower belly, stopping just above the hemline of your underwear. The only thing indicating that you were even alive at this point was the deep inhale you took, drawing both Mando’s and the nurse’s attention. It was the only time Mando hoped that you weren’t waking up. He had no idea how to explain this new situation to you. Hell, he was still having a hard time understanding it for himself. Thankfully, a deep breath was all it was though. You were still asleep.

The nurse moved the glass panel over your lower stomach, just about where your belly button was, and the image began to form on the screen as he adjusted a few things. Mando’s helmet tilted forward as he leaned over to see the image.

A nearly perfect view of your reproductive system appeared as a blue digital image. Mando felt uncomfortable looking at the image, feeling like he was violating you in some way. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at this without your permission but then the nurse zoomed in on your uterus to the point where the only thing that could really be seen was a little being.

Mando’s first thought was that it looked like a little alien. There was an identifiable head that appeared to be looking down and the cord that was attached to you through its belly. The rest of the body was curled into a fetal position.

The nurse tapped something on the screen and there was a rapid thudding sound that emanated from the device.

“Is that the heartbeat?” Mando asked, knowing that the answer was probably obvious. For someone who was used to working under pressure, he felt like his brain was only receiving radio static.

“Mhm, nice and strong.” The nurse said with a warm smile. He tapped a few notes onto the board and then turned it off, the blue image disappearing and the amplified heartbeat ceasing.

Mando couldn't believe this was happening. How could you not know you were pregnant? He was no expert on the female body, aside from the basics, but weren't you supposed to be throwing up or missing periods or something? He couldn't wrap his head around how you were eight weeks along with seemingly no clue of your condition.

"Look, I can see that clearly this was something unexpected. I don't know if this is something you want to tell her or want me to, but either way, there are some conversations you two need to have." The nurse told Mando matter-of-factly while gathering the few things he’d brought over before leaving.

Mando shifted on his feet and reached down to pull his cape back up over your torso so you wouldn’t be cold and exposed, though it was mostly for the second reason. It was next to impossible to be cold on Tatooine, at least during the day. That was when he noticed the small, barely there bump on your lower stomach. It was such a slight variation from its normal size that he never would have noticed it had he not just learned about the life now growing inside you. It was so slight that he imagined you probably would have just attributed it to bloating perhaps, since you were unaware as well, considering all the less-than-pleasant food you both came across in your work.

Part of him wanted to place his hands over the ever-so-slight swell of your belly, just to see if by some chance he could feel anything. Mando decided against it, shaking his helmet at himself with a heavy sigh. He would wait until you woke up and the two of you had a chance to discuss everything before he did anything relating to the baby.

Gently, he pulled the cape back up over your body and sat down on the crate again, leaning his elbows on his knees where he sat with his thoughts for several minutes in a zoned out daze. His attention was only broken by the cooing from the Child’s metal pram. Mando tapped on the controls on his arm, opening the pram, and removing the little green baby who was now wide awake.

“Hey, buddy.” Mando breathed out, watching as the baby stretched his arms out to you, “I know, I know. She’ll wake up soon.”

The Child looked up at Mando sadly before snuggling down onto his lap, sitting there comfortably. The weight of such a small being had become comfortable and normal for Mando now after all this time with him. He was, by Creed, his son now. Mando was already a father. You had stepped up as a mother for the young child. So why did this feel different?

Mando imagined the new future, assuming you had decided to stay with him and care for the baby together. He had every intention of raising the baby with you and would do whatever it took to keep the two of you safe. He loved you more than he knew was possible to love another person and the last thing he wanted was to leave. Mando hoped that, one day, you would be officially bound by riduurok. Once the Alor approved it, Mando’s clan of two would become an aliit be cuur. Clan of four.

#mando x y/n #the mandolorian x reader #mando x you #mando imagine #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djaren #din djarin fics #pedro pascal #dad!mando #mando x pregnant!reader #star wars #star wars imagines

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miraculouslycool · 3 years

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I really love Cat Noir lifts Ladybug's spirits when she is down. I really do. But I am also waiting for a time when Ladybug actually returns the favor. Because to be honest, Cat Noir doesn't really have the best self-esteem either

Hm, this offers an interesting view of Marinette's character.

Not to, and NEVER to say that she hasn't been there for Chat Noir (because that couldn't be any less true), but as you know, she's a bit of a neurotic control freak.

It's her greatest strength and her greatest weakness. While that exact same mentality is what makes her a force to be reckoned with when it comes to akumas, it's also exactly what makes her blind to the effect her single minded focus may have on other people. It has led her to being insensitive towards Kagami for one, and yes, even Chat Noir once or twice.

She's the planner and the thinker among the two of them, she makes plans, she creates variables for every single possibility she thinks she'll encounter.

Until Glaciator, she didn't know that Chat Noir was sincere about his feelings for her.

Until Syren, she wasn't aware that Chat Noir's feelings and trust in her could be hurt because she, even though she never intended to, wasn't able to tell him the full truth about what was going on.

Until Chat Blanc, she had never ever considered the possibility of Chat Noir possibly breaking down completely, because she was led to believe that it would never happen.

The New York Special solidified a fear in her that she never had any reason to expect: him giving up and leaving her.

And the reason she never knew any of these up to the checkpoints I mentioned is because despite Ladybug being the one who is strict about identities being enforced, Chat Noir is not the one who is more open about his insecurities and trauma. Whenever he seems to think that Ladybug sees him being scared and vulnerable, he quickly jumps right back up so fast it would give anyone whiplash. Adrien is a scrappy force of resilience, and that is why Marinette thought that there wasn't any reason for him to be vulnerable to akumatisation or guilt in general.

And that's neither of their faults. Adrien has unchecked abandonment issues, and low self esteem, and he doesn't want to show either of those things to Ladybug because Adrien is the kind of person who would never use his trauma to impose on other people, which is what he believes he would be doing to Ladybug.

But because Ladybug doesn't know the deep set reason, she wasn't able to give him the same encouragement he gave her during Heroes Day in the sewers at New York. She didn't prepare herself for the variable that Chat Noir could possibly ever give up being a hero, and being a partner, and when Marinette is rendered completely unable to control her surroundings, she shuts down completely.

That is why she froze up in Gamer 2.0, that's why her improvised and sudden attempts to confess to Adrien never work for her. She was beating herself up about what happened in Paris, because she is supposed to be the one who can control it, and yet she wasn't able to. Heck, her greatest fear in Sandboy is literally being powerless to fix her problems.

But despite all these flaws in Marinette's character, she is a good and kind person with a heart of gold. When she does know that Chat is down, she does her best to do what she can for him. She figured out something was bothering him in the Collector, she felt terrible about not noticing that he was in love with her, she told him with every ounce of gentleness in her heart that she loved and cared for him deeply but not in the way he wants her to, she tried her best to tell Fu that Chat Noir needed to be let in the loop as well,she appreciates his presence by her side, there are too many instances to count where she has been worried for his well being, she fought tooth and nail to save him from akumatisation even if it meant losing the perfect opportunity to confess to Adrien, she was incredibly happy and relieved that she saved him and that he was back, she was absolutely devestated upon him leaving in New York .

You wouldn't do any of those things if the person you are doing it for is very high in your list of priorities.

So it's definitely less of "Ladybug doesn't comfort Chat Noir as much as he does for her." and more of "Ladybug is learning more about Chat Noir every passing moment and is warming up to him every single time she does."

She isn't on his wavelength of support just yet because she simply isn't aware of how much good she can do and is doing for him, and that's not Adrien's fault for being closed up, neither is it Marinette's fault for not knowing.

#miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #chat noir #ladybug #even though i can point out a few instances where she hadn't been perfect about it #ladybug loves and cares for him very much #and her close bond with him has only strengthened over three seasons #there were far too many opportunities for both of them to disagree and have rows about things #but they both care about each other too much to let that happen

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gusu-emilu · 3 years

Text

Ship: Wei Wuxian / Wen Ning

Summary: Wei Wuxian gives Wen Ning a heartbeat, but not in the way either of them expected.

Rated T, No Warnings Apply

POV Wen Ning, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, references to WWX's poor health, First Kiss, Pining, Cuddling, Presumably Unrequited Love, or more accurately: whatever these two have going on, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, and the inherent homoeroticism of necromancy

Ch. 1/2, 6k, read on AO3 above or on Tumblr below

Wen Ning has always known that Wei Wuxian is not someone to hesitate.

The moment Wen Ning enters the Demon Subdue Palace after packing up the last sack of turnips, Wei Wuxian grabs his wrist.

“Come look!” He tugs Wen Ning deeper into the cave, slender fingers wrapped around Wen Ning’s wrist. He grins at Wen Ning over his shoulder. “I’ve made some more demonic devices, probably my best batch yet. I’d like to see the impersonators down in the town copy these!”

Wen Ning steadies his balance, not fully recovered from Wei Wuxian suddenly whisking him away.

Wei Wuxian has never hesitated to touch him. Wen Ning still isn’t quite used to it, having grown up in a family of doctors whose every touch felt calculated, and among clansmen more focused on war and strength than friendship. Clansmen who rarely respected him, never mind showed him affection.

Even now, he exists in a constant state of volatility due to his outbursts of resentful energy. Every family member in the Burial Mounds is careful around him, even A-Yuan at times.

But not Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is entirely different. Has always been different.

The first time they spoke, Wei Wuxian had already been comfortable with casual touch. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated to lay hands on him to adjust his archery posture—steady hands he can still imagine on his upper arm and around the side of his ribs, friendly pressure like a heavy quilt, as Wei Wuxian comforted and praised him.

Then the war began, and Wei Wuxian choked him in Lotus Pier—furious, merciless hands like paws of a frightened animal. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated then, either. He would’ve fully choked Wen Ning had he not held back enough to let him speak.

Then the war ended. Now Wei Wuxian uses him as an armrest, fixes his hair, arranges talismans on him, even once tried to pick him up and carry him as a joke. (He'd been a bit too weak to manage it for long. Wen Ning hadn’t thought that part was funny.) Now he drags Wen Ning around by the hand, all without hesitation.

Had Wei Wuxian hesitated before raising him from the dead?

Wen Ning isn’t sure which answer would comfort him.

“Take a look at this one,” Wei Wuxian says as he places a stone tablet in Wen Ning’s hand. A faint black cloud winds around the tablet, the smoke’s path tracing the red fulu writings carved into its surface. “Still pretty weak, but I’m getting closer to replicating yin iron with just regular stone.”

Wen Ning glances back and forth between the tablet and Wei Wuxian’s tired but enthusiastic smile. His eyes are bright with joy, but dark circles frame them. He hasn’t eaten much in the past few days, instead focusing relentlessly on his experiments, despite needing to save energy to heal the stab wound from Jiang Wanyin.

But Wen Ning still hasn’t figured out how to make him rest. Maybe admiring the new batch of demonic devices will help calm his inventive frenzy.

He nods, giving a small smile at Wei Wuxian. “That’s good.”

“Weak yin iron will be much easier to use. Better for small applications here and there, less dangerous…” Wei Wuxian squats by the scattered piles of demonic cultivation tools and notes, rummaging through to find another invention, the tablet already forgotten.

The black cloud around the tablet continues to swirl, small wisps seeping into Wen Ning’s skin. The tablet feels more like a block of dust than like stone, but despite his dulled senses, he notices…something else. A second sensation.

A throb.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Yeah?” Wei Wuxian says, squinting at a page of especially messy notes.

“Does…does this have a pulse?” The stone continues to throb weakly, more of a resonance than a physical sensation, its aura cold like resentful energy.

Wei Wuxian looks up from the papers, one eyebrow raised. “It’s still doing that?” He stands and takes the tablet, examines it. “Hm. This might be good! I’ll have to find out what flow pattern of resentful energy caused this.”

Wen Ning closes his hand. Strangely, he wishes for the tablet to still be pulsing against his palm. It had felt kind of pleasant, if disturbing. “Resentful energy can create a heartbeat?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a heartbeat. But yes, if channeled the right way.”

“…Does that mean I have one?” Behind his back to prevent Wei Wuxian from noticing, he presses three fingers to the inside of his wrist, where years ago Jiejie had taught him how to read the flow of his blood. A black vein of resentful energy now covers those lifeless pulse points. “I’ve never felt it.”

Wei Wuxian turns the tablet between his hands thoughtfully. “No…you don’t have a heartbeat.” Then he grins, one of those sly grins that crosses his handsome face slowly, as if an idea has rushed into him so quickly that he needs to pace his smile just to contain it. Wen Ning doesn’t like those grins, because they make something flutter inside him.

“At least, not yet!” Wei Wuxian adds. “Do you want one? I could figure something out—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine without one.” The last thing Wei Wuxian needs is another project to stay up all night for—least of all an unnecessary project that Wen Ning requested by accident. Wei Wuxian has done enough for him already.

“I’m serious!” Wei Wuxian says. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I can test it right now.” He trails a finger over the blood-red writing on the tablet and mutters a few words under his breath. The black smoke around it thickens. “Just something temporary, to see if the idea works.” He steps closer.

Nervousness immediately jolts through Wen Ning. It’s unfortunate that death has muted the nerve endings in Wen Ning’s skin but has done nothing to quiet his anxious mind, which is always at both its most overactive and sluggish around Wei Wuxian.

Wen Ning watches the tablet’s red markings begin to glow, watches Wei Wuxian’s expression harden to a chiseled concentration.

“Come here,” Wei Wuxian says.

If Wei Wuxian’s hunch works, Wei Wuxian will ignore his health until he finishes developing the method to give Wen Ning a permanent heartbeat. If it fails, Wei Wuxian will still ignore his health, this time trying until he finds a different method.

It’s best to not let him try. To give him a firm “no.”

But Wen Ning has never been good at those. Especially when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

He has also never been good at lying to Wei Wuxian. Although he must do so for the sake of Wei Wuxian’s health, it’s hard to admit that he doesn’t miss his heartbeat.

He misses many small details of his body. Jiejie had taught him the ways of Dafan Wen medicine, made him attuned to the evidence of life in himself. He knows how fast his heart rate is supposed to be while lying in bed, knows which pressure points she once worked at to calm his anxiety, knows the irregularities of the breaths he no longer takes.

He used to like his heartbeat, his breath, their soothing rhythm as he fell asleep. It was comforting to understand that much about himself, to follow this evidence of life, when in childhood a piece of his soul had been snatched and left the rest of him a puzzle.

Now the lack of this evidence of life feels like a testimony against him.

Wei Wuxian could return some illusion of life to him. Would be happy to do so.

Selfishly, Wen Ning wants him to try. Being a walking experiment has its unsettling moments—more accurately, a constant hum of discomfort—but there is something morbidly enchanting about letting Wei Wuxian mold him into whatever he envisions. Into the magnum opus of a genius.

An even more selfish part of him wants to beg Wei Wuxian to try, because how symbolic would it be for Wei Wuxian to restore his heart, of all things…

“Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks softly.

“Okay,” he answers, and instantly regrets it.

Wei Wuxian smiles again, this time the smile he saves for when he is about to tinker with the Ghost General. Wen Ning has learned all of his smiles by now, and he still doesn’t believe that there is one specially for him. But Wei Wuxian gives him that reassuring nod, the warm curve of his lips, the eager yet slightly rueful glint in his eyes, and Wen Ning can only recall seeing that expression the previous times Wei Wuxian rewrote pieces of him.

Wei Wuxian explains exactly what he’s going to do and how the resentful energy will flow. Wen Ning nods, and Wei Wuxian rests a hand on Wen Ning’s chest—casually, moving without hesitation, like always. “It won’t actually restart your heart. Just give the illusion of a pulse for a few minutes.” He furrows his brow as his focus intensifies. “That is, if it works.”

The feeling of Wei Wuxian’s hand on the center of his chest is stabilizing, yet it sets Wen Ning’s mind into disarray, despite how many times he has felt this before.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, preparing to reroute the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

A cool stream of energy enters Wen Ning. Growing colder, gushing rapidly—

Freezing—

Then over almost instantly.

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes. “Feel any different?”

Wen Ning feels a bit dizzy, which is new. He hasn’t experienced vertigo since becoming a fierce corpse. But that fades quickly, and soon he is left with only the feeling of thick fabric pressing against his chest where Wei Wuxian’s hand rests.

He shakes his head. “Do…do you feel anything?”

Wei Wuxian shifts his hand, presses harder against Wen Ning’s chest. Waits, then sticks three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck, and that feels nice. Wen Ning almost wants to hold his hand there—

“No. I guess it didn’t work.” Wei Wuxian sounds much more tired than before. He removes his hand.

“That’s okay. I don’t need a heartbeat.”

“You want one though, yeah?” Wei Wuxian begins sifting through the inventions scattered across the cave, perhaps looking for another device, perhaps just hunting for kindling to spark an idea.

Wen Ning had been too selfish by agreeing to this. Who knows how long Wei Wuxian will research this now?

“I don’t want you to start another project,” Wen Ning says, and the faint thread of anger in his voice is stronger than he intended, even though that anger is mostly directed at himself. It's been harder to control his emotions since resentful energy began feeding them.

Wei Wuxian looks up, startled. Then he grins and gives a small laugh. “Are you turning into your jiejie now? Bossing me around…”

The joke only strengthens Wen Ning’s resolve. It reminds him that he can invoke Jiejie’s authoritativeness. He has never been good at following in his sister’s footsteps, but calling upon her immovability is almost as effective at steeling him as resentful energy. “You should sleep or come help us outside instead of always working in here.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “I know, I know. You’ve all told me many times.” He seems to regret the slight bite in his tone. He tends to snap once in a while, the effect of stress lashing out from behind his mask, but it always dissolves as quickly as it appears.

“I’ll listen to you,” Wei Wuxian says, gently this time. Wen Ning feels a wave of relief. But then Wei Wuxian smirks and adds, “For now. I really do have some theories I want to test.”

“But—Wei-gongzi—”

Wei Wuxian rises to his feet and walks over to him. Stands and looks at him for a while, then says, almost murmurs, “I have enough projects for myself.” He tucks a strand of hair behind Wen Ning’s ear, and Wen Ning nearly melts. “Let me do something that’ll make you happy.”

This is bad. Very bad.

Wei Wuxian isn’t even telling the truth. His projects are all for the protection of Wen Ning’s family, not for himself. But the fond touch, combined with the sweetness in Wei Wuxian’s voice, is already enough to make Wen Ning bend.

He would much rather take care of Wei Wuxian than be taken care of. But if he weren’t worried about being a bother, he would tangle his hair just for Wei Wuxian to run his fingers through it, to twirl and comb and braid it the way he unravels and reorders the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

“You really don’t need to. Getting a heartbeat was just an idea,” Wen Ning mumbles.

“And a good idea! We all need more comforts around here, don’t we?” Wei Wuxian nestles three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck to search for a pulse again, his brow knit in thought. Despite himself, Wen Ning can’t help but be glad that he can feel that touch a second time.

When Wei Wuxian experiments on him, the tugs and surges of resentful energy don’t exactly feel good. It’s like ice cracking under his skin, leaving shards that poke out of him. Or like the bony hand of a skeleton yanking at his insides, ripping him apart and rattling the pieces around.

The pain and discomfort frighten him. Remind him of what Wei Wuxian is capable of. What Wen Ning is capable of.

Yet he finds enjoyment in the fear, in the icy fingers of resentful energy, because those are the shadows of Wei Wuxian’s hands on him, reshaping him.

And before Wei Wuxian experiments on him…that feels too good. The doting—almost loving—attention, the careful examination, mumbled words, soft touches…

Wei Wuxian pulls his hand away and brings it to his own throat. His glance darts around the cave as he seems to calculate something in his mind.

Then he grabs Wen Ning’s hand and presses Wen Ning’s fingers into his neck. The sensation comes delayed, but Wen Ning feels it.

A pulse. Wei Wuxian’s pulse.

Wei Wuxian continues looking around the cave and thinking, as if this is just another ordinary step in a routine. But to Wen Ning, this is—this is—have they ever done something this intimate? How can Wei Wuxian let him feel the rhythm of his pulse, of his life force, and act like it’s nothing?

Somehow that makes it even more intimate, that Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to mind…

Wen Ning counts the beats to himself.

Too slow. Not by much, but Wei Wuxian’s heart rate is too slow for his age, his size.

Wen Ning would make a mental note to tell Jiejie, but he knows she’s already aware. Wei Wuxian’s health has been deteriorating since he stepped back into the Burial Mounds.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Mn?”

“I…I have a different idea.”

Wei Wuxian lifts Wen Ning’s hand from his neck, but doesn’t let go. He smiles. “What’s that?”

“You can just give me the tablet.” Wen Ning looks down at the slab of stone, thin black wisps of smoke swirling around it. “I can feel its heartbeat.”

“You don’t want your own?”

He shakes his head.

Wei Wuxian playfully taps the back of Wen Ning’s hand a few times. Four times, to be exact. Wen Ning can’t help counting. “That heartbeat isn’t very human, though.”

Neither am I, Wen Ning wants to say, but he knows Wei Wuxian will scold him if he does. “It would be more than enough,” he says instead.

“You’re going to make the Yiling Laozu feel like a fraud if you let him give you scraps and call it ‘more than enough.’” He sighs and glances down at the tablet. “But you can take it until I come up with something better.”

“Then…is there something that you don’t think is a scrap?”

Wei Wuxian brings Wen Ning’s fingers to his neck again, and the warm pulse hums through his fingertips. “Well, there’s my heartbeat.” He winks. “I’d still call that a scrap, though.”

“No it isn’t,” Wen Ning blurts.

Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows. Then his expression turns thoughtful. “Would you rather keep feeling mine?”

Wen Ning doesn’t reply, but he knows his face says everything. Not even rigor mortis can hide the answer.

“Forget about that useless rock, then.” Wei Wuxian pats his chest. “I’ll be your heartbeat for now.”

Wen Ning is sure that if he still had blood flow, he would be flushed. Panicked energy begins to twitch inside him. “N-No, it’s okay—”

“You don’t want my finest craftsmanship, and you don’t want my scraps! What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing,” Wen Ning answers quietly.

“Yes, something.” He takes Wen Ning’s hand and tugs him toward the slab of stone he uses as a bed. “Hm. How should we do this? Maybe—”

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says, exasperated. He likes that Wei Wuxian never hesitates, never slows down—it’s attractive, in a frustrating kind of way—but it often leaves Wen Ning in the dust with his mind still sputtering and struggling to function.

“Alright, sit here.” Wei Wuxian gestures toward the bed. “If you want to,” he adds.

It’s pointless to ask if Wen Ning wants to. He wonders if Wei Wuxian knows that he doesn’t need Chenqing or yin iron to make him do just about anything.

Suddenly filled with dread, a dread that he is going to like this too much, he steps forward and awkwardly sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Perfect,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. He taps Wen Ning’s knee twice. “Spread your legs.”

Now Wen Ning is certain that he would be flushed if he were alive. “S-S-Spr—what?”

“Hey.” He smirks and points a finger at Wen Ning. “Who taught you to have thoughts like that? Don’t worry. I just need you to make room for me.”

Wen Ning gets out some garbled form of “okay” and spreads his legs, creating enough space for Wei Wuxian to sit on one of his knees.

Which Wei Wuxian does.

Sit on his knee.

He also wraps his arms around Wen Ning’s neck and pulls him closer until his cheek touches Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“I can’t do all the work myself.” He cups Wen Ning’s chin. “You have to move too.”

Wen Ning swallows—by habit, since he doesn’t really need to do that anymore—and positions himself so his ear rests over Wei Wuxian’s heart. He can’t feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat through the robes, but the gentle sound of thum, thum seeps into him right away.

Warmth, too. A lot of warmth.

“Good?” Wei Wuxian hums.

Wen Ning makes a small noise of contentment in the back of his throat. He fiddles with his hands in his lap, trying and failing to find a good place for them that isn’t Wei Wuxian’s legs. “I hear it.”

“Only hear it?”

He opens his mouth to object, but he knows that Wei Wuxian will spot the lie before it leaves his lips.

Wei Wuxian opens the collar of his dark outer robes and lets Wen Ning rest his head on the thin red inner garment.

Even warmer. Softer.

He can feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt something like this since he was a child. It’s…not what he expects.

Jiejie had taught him how to take a person’s pulse. How to place three fingers on each wrist and find the six pulse positions corresponding to the meridians of the body, to identify the different types of pulses—their depth, width, length, strength. How sometimes the pulse feels like beads rolling along a table, while other times it feels like the crisp pluck of a guqin string, and so on, each revealing secrets of the body, guiding how to best heal the patient.

All that knowledge had once been exciting. It seems mundane, now.

The medical analogies for a pulse at the wrist, Wen Ning realizes, don’t work to describe what a heartbeat from the chest feels like when it’s pressed against his cheek.

It’s like wading in a warm stream, sunshine beating on him. The gentle lap of current, its smooth rhythm—thum, thum—like the most natural and simple form of expression.

Wen Ning wishes Jiejie had instead taught him how to decipher a person’s soul by listening to their heartbeat, because with this strange, steady language reverberating in his ear, it almost seems possible.

“Now?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Wen Ning doesn’t make a sound this time.

He counts Wei Wuxian’s heartbeats and tries to guess how many fit into a minute. They remain like that, long after Wen Ning loses count, with Wei Wuxian’s warm body in his lap. They both relax, and Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat eventually fades into Wen Ning, like it’s his own.

His awareness returns when he notices Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat slowing even more. He pulls away, immediately missing the comforting solidness of Wei Wuxian’s chest, and looks up to see a calm, drowsy expression on Wei Wuxian’s face. His eyes are heavy-lidded and almost fully closed.

“We’ve been telling you,” Wen Ning says softly. “You don’t sleep enough.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “You really are becoming bossy.”

“I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“You and your jiejie are like a pair of vultures. Circling me when I’m weak and picking at me!” He gives a wan smile and reaches around Wen Ning’s back to rub his shoulder. “But I appreciate that you care about me.”

Wen Ning absorbs the feeling of Wei Wuxian stroking his shoulder, the thrum of Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat still lingering in his ear. “I appreciate that you care about me, too,” he mumbles.

He’s not sure if Wei Wuxian hears, but figures he knows anyway.

* * *

The next day, Wei Wuxian lets Wen Ning listen again.

And the day after.

And the day after that.

It becomes a pattern, as reliable as the beat of Wei Wuxian’s heart. Wei Wuxian is more likely to skip a meal or lose a night of sleep than he is to shirk his self-proclaimed “heartbeat duty,” and Wen Ning begins to wonder if Wei Wuxian likes it as much as he does.

Then Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli show up in Yiling.

That night, Wei Wuxian drinks like he wants to waterboard himself.

He forgets about heartbeat duty after that. Wen Ning lets him.

* * *

Two weeks later, Wen Ning brings a medicinal draught Jiejie prepared to the Demon Subdue Palace. The sun outside sank long ago, leaving behind deep blues and browns that bleed into the entrance of the cave. A single candle flickers on a rock shelf in the cave wall, illuminating the craggy wall and the floor strewn with bits of metal and wood and crumpled talismans.

Astoundingly, Wei Wuxian is not hunched in the corner scribbling away. He’s in bed scribbling away, his sleeves rolled up and his tied-back hair slightly disheveled the way they are when he digs in the mud pond for the lotus pods that won’t grow.

He hadn’t come out to farm since the day before. Wen Ning wonders if he’s fixed his sleeves or his hair since then.

Wen Ning steps over as quietly as he can manage with his clumsy feet and waits beside the bed, holding the draught with both hands and feeling a faint sensation of its warmth. “Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian presses the wooden end of his brush into the corner of his mouth. “Do you know how to make a Spirit-Attraction Flag attract only ghosts of a certain age?”

“…No.”

“Mn. I—wait—” He cuts off and draws what looks like disjointed pieces of an array scribbled in the margins around rejected brushstrokes.

Wen Ning lets him write for a while, then says, “My jiejie made this for you to drink.”

“And why,” Wei Wuxian asks without a pause in his writing, “is she spending resources on me instead of saving them for A-Yuan and the others?”

“You need medicine, too. Because your stab wound still hasn't healed, and—and Jiejie says your body still isn’t used to not having a gold—”

Wei Wuxian abruptly stops writing. Wen Ning clamps his mouth shut, and wishes he hadn’t said anything.

With a lack of pleasure that he fails to hide, Wei Wuxian scribbles a few more things, then stands up, slices a cut in his finger, and begins trailing red lines on a Spirit-Attraction Flag. “I’m going down the mountain to test this.” He looks over at Wen Ning with a softened expression and walks out of the cave.

Wen Ning doesn’t need him to say that it’s an invitation to follow. He always accompanies Wei Wuxian down the mountain. He’d rather Wei Wuxian sleep, but at least leaving the Burial Mounds always puts him in a better mood.

After they pass through the final protective array and the forest around the path begins to change from grim black leafless trees to green trees shaded blue by moonlight, Wei Wuxian seems to relax. But instead of testing the flag in the clearing where he usually does, he continues walking.

They reach the edge of the forest. A few clouds in the sky hide some of the stars, but the moon is out, a bright half of a silver coin. They pass the town from a distance, still close enough to see amber dots of light from the few lanterns lit at this time of night, but far enough that even Wen Ning’s sharp vision can’t discern clear shapes of the buildings. Wei Wuxian stares at the town once in a while, as if he can see something in the muddied blocks of light.

They enter a different patch of forest and stray just far enough inside for tree branches to reach across the sky again.

Wei Wuxian holds up the flag and examines it.

He lowers the flag to his side.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says quietly.

“Yes?”

“Did you…”

He trails off when Wei Wuxian begins slowly rolling up the thin canvas. “I think I just wanted to go for a walk,” he says. “I’ll let the spirits rest today.” He sets the folded flag on a large rock and sits on the ground, his back against the stone, looking out at the plains and town from the recesses of the forest.

“I like walking with you,” Wen Ning says, and sits beside him.

Wei Wuxian usually buries his sorrow in his projects, in the crop fields, in his games with A-Yuan. This aimlessness is the closest glimpse Wen Ning sees of Wei Wuxian’s true state of mind. Wei Wuxian ensures that he is alone whenever he truly lets in his sorrow, but Wen Ning accompanies him during the times when he comes close. As if Wei Wuxian wants him to see—wants someone to see—but refuses to reveal everything.

No one else but Wen Ning has sat next to Wei Wuxian while he draws portraits for no particular reason (he never shows them to Wen Ning, but Wen Ning can guess whom he draws), no one else has slept across the cave from him while he mumbles in his sleep, no one else has wandered down the mountain at night with him.

Wen Ning doesn’t know if he should feel privileged or worried that Wei Wuxian lets him see this much.

He doesn’t think he deserves to know Wei Wuxian’s deepest thoughts, but he wants Wei Wuxian to pass more sorrow onto him, let him shoulder some of the pain. Wen Ning’s heart is dead, he can take it.

“Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian says. He smooths his robes, adjusts his fitted sleeves. “I haven’t done heartbeat duty in a while, have I?”

“You don’t need to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Wen Ning looks down at his knees, but Wei Wuxian scoots closer.

With their backs against the rock, Wei Wuxian hugs him in, rests his hand on the side of Wen Ning’s head, cradling him against his chest. Wen Ning tucks his arms away, trying not to touch Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian takes one of his hands.

“It’s okay,” Wei Wuxian says.

Wen Ning waits a moment, wishing he had proper breath to steady himself, then carefully wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian, nestling close to his slender frame.

It feels different this time. Not because their position is different, or because Wuxian’s heartbeat is any faster or slower, stronger or weaker.

There is no purpose this time. It isn’t for Wen Ning to experience sensations more fully. It isn’t for Wei Wuxian to find comfort.

They are just two bodies cast aside from life, bodies that struggled to catch each other during their fall until they landed in each other’s embrace.

Holding Wei Wuxian feels as natural as his heartbeat, as inevitable as each thrum beneath where Wen Ning rests his head.

And just as fleeting.

Wei Wuxian is more alive than any person he knows, yet is wasting away more each day, having given up everything to protect the Dafan Wen.

And Wei Wuxian is not his. Only one thing ties them together: they have each made the other into a member of the living dead.

With whom did it start? Was it Wei Wuxian, who brought Wen Ning back as a fierce corpse, or was it Wen Ning, who held Wei Wuxian down as his core was removed? Or was it the world that did this to both of them?

But despite the thread of shared death that ties them together, Wei Wuxian could break that connection if he wanted to.

Wen Ning is bound to his family, bound to this unnatural body, bound to Chenqing's laments. He can never reenter the world.

But Wei Wuxian...

One day, Wei Wuxian may have the chance to belong in the world again. With his shidi and shijie, with Lan Wangji.

Wen Ning will always be banished to the margins of the world.

“How long are you going to live with us?” Wen Ning finds himself asking.

Leaves rustle quietly in the forest, clouds disappearing above their heads to reveal more stars against the dark liquid sky. An owl hoots questioningly far behind them.

“Until tomorrow,” Wei Wuxian says. “Ask me again tomorrow, and I’ll tell you again.”

“I can’t ask you that every day.”

“Then don’t ask me at all.” He strokes Wen Ning’s hair, over the back of his head and down his back. “I’m not leaving.”

Wei Wuxian continues playing with Wen Ning’s hair, running his fingers through it, stopping occasionally to work out a tangle. Not for the first time, Wen Ning wishes he could feel touch more strongly. He had dreamt of moments like these as a teenager, gentle caresses from Wei Wuxian, impossible moments. He hadn’t realized he would receive them one day after they had given up their lives for each other.

“When do you think we’ll get our next visitor?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Think I can make that Spirit-Attraction Flag into a Guest-Attraction Flag?” He chuckles. “We can hang it at the ridge. People will be drawn from miles to come talk to us. Tell Uncle Four to get lots of fruit wine ready." He fiddles with the sleeve of Wen Ning's robe. "I’ll have you test out the flag. Wear it like a cloak, and go walk around Yiling to see how many friends you make.”

“I can barely get anyone to buy turnips from me.”

“Change of plans, then! I’ll make a Customer-Attraction Flag, and we’ll finally be rich.”

Wen Ning smiles. “What are we going to buy once we’re rich?”

“Toys for A-Yuan.” Wei Wuxian rubs across Wen Ning’s shoulders, back and forth. “Every toy in Yiling.”

“We should buy every toy in Lanling, too.”

“That’ll need a lot more money. We’ll have to grow bigger turnips.”

“A giant one.”

“A single giant turnip?” Now there is real laughter in Wei Wuxian’s voice. “I’ll have to plant you as the seed to grow something big enough. Don’t tell your jiejie. Although she might figure it out when you disappear, and meanwhile a turnip the size of the Burial Mounds takes over Yiling.”

“I still won’t tell her.”

Wei Wuxian makes a low humming sound. “I can always count on you.”

Wen Ning melts more into Wei Wuxian’s embrace, surrounded by his warmth.

“Too bad that no matter who we bury in the lotus pond,” Wei Wuxian says with a sigh, “those plants still don’t want to sprout.” This time he doesn’t rub Wen Ning’s back or fiddle with him while he talks.

He’s never said something like that about the lotus crop without following it up with a confident proclamation—But when have I ever not achieved the impossible?, They’ll poke their heads out soon!, My lotus flowers will be the biggest you’ve seen, just wait!

He’s never left hanging the chance that the lotus crop might not grow.

Wen Ning waits for the cocky remark, but it doesn’t come. “They’ll sprout if you’re the one growing them,” Wen Ning suggests, filling in the declaration that Wei Wuxian missed.

“…Yeah.”

Wen Ning’s stomach sinks. He looks up. Wei Wuxian smiles at him and guides him to rest against his chest again.

“It’s only been two weeks. They might take a while,” Wen Ning says, his face nearly turned into Wei Wuxian’s robes.

“I’ll just cheat and make a Lotus-Attraction Flag.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Of course you will. You’ll also help me with the flag for attracting guests to marvel at the beauty of our lotus pond!”

Guests again.

Wen Ning knows that Hanguang-Jun had visited on the day his consciousness returned. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli had met with Wei Wuxian soon after. Both left marks on Wei Wuxian.

Is he thinking about them?

Wishing he had warmth of his own to give Wei Wuxian, Wen Ning hugs him tighter. He's not sure if they lower to the ground in one movement or slowly slide down, but eventually they lie on their sides, facing each other, arms tight around each other. Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat speaks, and Wen Ning listens.

I’m lonely, it whispers. I’m so lonely.

Who is there in the Burial Mounds for Wei Wuxian to feel the same affection toward as he feels about Hanguang-Jun? Or to provide the same comfort as the company of his siblings?

Everyone in the Burial Mounds has tried their best to provide the support of a new family for Wei Wuxian. He has even called them his family. But try as they might, how could the Dafan Wen replace his shidi and shijie?

The shidi and shijie Wen Ning helped Wei Wuxian save, only to steal him away from. He knows that it was Wei Wuxian’s choice to lead the Dafan Wen to the Burial Mounds and live with them, but would he have made that choice if he had never formed a relationship with Wen Ning and his sister? The thought makes guilt churn in his stomach.

“Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian runs his thumb in gentle circles over Wen Ning’s shoulder. “Yes?”

“Is that something you want?” He pulls away from Wei Wuxian’s chest to look up at him, though not quite into his eyes. “Guests?”

“Don’t take that all so seriously. If guests come, would they be as good of a drinking buddy as Uncle Four, or as good of a storyteller as Granny, or as energetic as A-Yuan? They couldn’t compete.”

“But you meant it,” Wen Ning says, surprised at the force in his own voice, quiet as it is. “I’ll help you bring guests here.”

Wei Wuxian smiles and brushes his thumb over Wen Ning’s cheek, the touch warm and soft like hushed words. “You’re already too good to me. Don’t worry about me.” He sighs and looks up at the sky. “Each of us will have things we want, but can’t have. It’s just part of living.”

Wen Ning, too, looks up at the star-studded sky through the dark silhouettes of trees. The full shapes of the constellations are broken up, but he can picture which stars are waiting behind the black hands of tree leaves.

As he follows the disjointed forms of the constellations, he decides that he will relieve Wei Wuxian’s burdens.

He is not sure at what moment he makes the decision, but it settles into his bones and becomes his purpose for the night.

Not just for the night. For as long as Wei Wuxian is by his side.

The day Wen Ning’s consciousness was restored, he had heard A-Yuan singing a song about walking the “single-log bridge.” Curious, Wen Ning had asked where A-Yuan learned the song.

“Xian-gege,” had been the answer. The song’s lyrics had been about Wei Wuxian walking alone into darkness.

Wen Ning will not let him walk alone.

If Wei Wuxian wants to walk the single-log bridge, Wen Ning will carry him across it.

“Will you tell me about them?” Wen Ning asks.

“About what?”

“The things you want, but can’t have.”

* * *

Thank you for reading! Next chapter is coming soon. If you enjoyed this fic, come visit me on AO3!

#ningxian #mdzsnet #theuntameddaily #wen ning #wei wuxian #mdzs #cql #the untamed #mdzs fanfic #cql fanfic #the untamed fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #cql fanfiction #the untamed fanfiction #emilu creations #emilu fics

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thebadboyfanclub · 3 years

Text

That’s My Girl (Emmett x Reader)

This was requested by an anon and it did hit home a bit since I’ve struggled with body image issues since I was 13 and it does take a lot on finding a balance and it’s a long and painful process. Enjoy!

T.W+ Statement. I am in no way, shape or form taking lightly the case of body image issues that will be mentioned on this imagine, it is a real struggle and so many people suffer because of it, I’m just trying to bring some light and show what I think the said character would do at this particular scenario

(Y/n) was always the bigger one of her family, weighted more than her sisters and wore two sizes bigger than her sisters, yet her sisters were the only people that had her back. Her own mother made it a mission to bring up calories and carbs every time she saw her eat something.

As she entered her teen years, things started to change and grow bigger and in her classmates eyes... uglier, fatter. She was bullied a lot and also quietly, she felt like even if she did speak to her parents they would take their side and tell her to do some extra workouts.

Eventually she did, she worked out more and counted calories and fasted, even had a few trips to the bathroom, anything that would work and get the weight of her body and her shoulders. It became a vicious cycle, she would gain and lose and do the same stuff all over again. Until she met Emmett, his face was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes after fainting in the schools parking lot. Edward had warned him about your thoughts of feeling dizzy and thinking “get to the car” over and over again.

“Welcome back pretty lady”

It sounded corny, yet it was one of the sweetest things she had ever heard. She smiled at the best of her abilities and started looking around, slowly realizing what had occurred

“Don’t worry, no one saw”

“Except the entire school, this is so embarrassing”

As she got back up on her feet as fast as she could, darkness engulfed her for a second, a second was enough for her knees to go weak and fall into Emmett’s arms, who was more than lucky to have her there, her short and delicate human body brought him anxiety he hadn’t felt in... decades.

“Sorry about that”

“No don’t apologize, you are my damsel in distress”

“Really? then how should I repay you?”

“A date might make up for my heroic act”

Since then they had been a couple, she didn’t really have a choice since Emmett would show up everywhere and help her do anything and everything, he had even endured 2 hours waiting at the hair salon for her.

(Y/n) was on cloud 9, finally a man that treated her like she had only seen in her movies and cared for her. Also the fact that he was extremely handsome was a big bonus, as well as a source of anxiety for her appearance, she was so overwhelmed by her new relationship that she had not seen that she had gained a bit of “relationship weight”, for her though this was a disaster. In her mind she was already overweight, this just was the cherry on top to her maliciously rude mind.

“Babe are you ready yet?”

“5 more minutes”

Emmett was getting a bit suspicious. She had been in there throwing clothes around the room, groaning and grunting for almost 2 hours, (y/n) would usually be ready once he was there, she hated not being on time.

She hated this, nothing fitted her the way it was supposed to, she looked fat and ugly into every single outfit, nitpicking herself apart in every single piece of clothing. She was basically tip toeing around a mental breakdown, just as she was about to zip up yet another pair of jeans she heard her bedroom door open and reveal a concerned Emmett.

“Get out I said I’m not ready”

As he closed the door he looked around and took in the chaos that was her room right now, (y/n) was usually very tidy so this couldn’t mean anything good.

“I know that’s why I came in, what’s going on baby girl?”

“I have no clothes that’s what’s going on”

“Weird, I could swear I see some right there on your bed”

He tried to make a light joke that didn’t really get a great crowd reaction out of it. As (Y/n) ran around to find a shirt Emmett stood there looking at her, trying to piece things together and maybe find a way to help her.

“If you want maybe I can Alice to bring you a few pieces”

“Alice is s literal model, I will tear anything she has”

She snapped back at him. He was stepping on shaky ground and felt helpless, something that (y/n) quickly realized that she had created. She let out a deep sigh and placed her fingers on her temples, slightly massaging them

“I’m sorry, I’m just... stressed”

“About what? talk to me”

Emmett took a step and sat down on her bed, waiting for his girlfriend to come and take a seat on his lap. As she instinctively did exactly that she tried to keep some of her weight by keeping herself on her toes. Emmett didn’t even think twice about placing her entire weight on him and bringing her close to his chest.

“Do you think I’m fat?”

“What? what are you talking about?”

“I just... I am so much bigger than Alice and Bella and let’s not even go to Rosalie, they are all like... stick status and I’m just this cow that’s dating a body builder”

Emmet was left stunned, speechless. He could not believe what he was hearing, his true mate, his little delicate human, his short girl that he loved to bring into a hug and feel her getting lost in his big form, was thinking of herself as fat? They couldn’t be talking about the same girl he would pick up like she was a feather and the girl he would worry about eating and being healthy.

“(Y/n) don’t ever say that again, you are beautiful and why does it matter if you are bigger than Bella, I’m bigger than Edward too... are you calling me fat?”

“Noooo”

“Yes, yes you are. I knew it that you would leave me for someone thinner”

“Stop, I’m being serious”

“Look baby as long as I can throw you over my shoulder I will see nothing wrong with you”

His response did make her feel better but it wasn’t all fixed up, it didn’t work like that. Although it did feel nice to hear him say those things. Emmett leaned in to steal a sweet little kiss from her lips in hopes to make her feel better and comfort her the best he could.

“You are my perfect small girlfriend, I bet you look like a toothpick standing next to me. In all seriousness I have never and I will never see anything wrong with your body, you are perfect”

She smiled at him as she let her head rest on his shoulders, letting his words sink in and process them. He truly embodied everything she wanted in a boyfriend, he respected her and appreciated her to the max.

“Now, what to do you think about wearing a nice outfit and going to the movies with me?”

“Alright”

“That’s my girl, I’ll wait outside”

#emmett cullen one shot #emmett cullen imagine #emmett imagines #emmett cullen x reader #emmett cullen x you #emmett cullen x oc #twilight imagine #twilight one shot #twilight headcanon #twilight #twilight x reader #emmett x reader #emmett cullen headcanon #cullen imagines #emmett cullen

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with-love-anu · 4 years

Text

Undefined Coma

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Sirius hates you and is forced to marry you.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, passing out, swearing, death, not a happy ending.

Word Count: 1,581

You ran, trying to catch up with the raven-haired boy. He was fast.

“Sirius! Sirius, wait up!” you shouted apologizing to people you hit on the way. Catching him finally, you placed a hand over his back, making him turn towards you in a huff.

“What. Do. You. Want?” he hissed as you gulped.

“I just wanted to talk to you. I thought t-“

“I don’t care what you thought. I don’t ever want to talk to you, why don’t you get it?” He barked as you felt you felt something in your stomach squeeze.

“Do we have any other choice, then?” you whispered as you saw something change in his eyes. “I thought you, of all people, would understand seeing we are going through the same thing.”

Sirius let out a dry laugh which only served your stomach to twist further.

“Same thing? Same thing? We are on the opposite ends Y/n. Completely opposite ends. You want money without earning it and have pulled me into whatever this is. Marriage, they call it. I hate you, Y/n. And I hate everything you stand for.”

“You act like don’t even know me!” you gasped as he just shook his head.

“I knew you.”

You stood there as he turned and left. You watched his back silently not knowing whether to laugh or cry. You wondered if he would ever realize. If he would ever even try to see through the narrow hole he had created. You wiped away the tear that fell down your cheeks. What did you agree to?

***

“No! Please Bella, no!!!” you screamed through the tears, beating your hands furiously to somehow break the spell they tied you with, not that it worked. “NO! TAKE ME! TAKE ME INSTEAD!”

Your heart thumped out of your chest as you screamed for them to stop. Your sister’s cries rang loud in your ears as they continued to torture her.

“Cruico!” you heard Bella scream as a hot red energy spread through your body, making you feel like you were on fire. You shouted and screamed as the pain didn’t stop. You felt dizzy and your brain banged making your surroundings feel fuzzy. You clenched your eyes shut at the agonizing sting that stretched throughout your body. You remembered seeing people running before darkness consumed you.

***

The great hall was full of chatter and life as the first years got sorted into their respective houses. Sirius smiled a little at the innocent, care-free children who were going to start a completely different life at Hogwarts. He listened on to James as he talked to a new-bee. He was grateful to have such a great friend. He was so scared when he finally ran away, thought he would have to leave James’ house the very next morning. But he didn’t. The Potters had unofficially adopted him. He spared a glance towards Regulus, who looked hollow. His heart clenched at the sight. He wanted to take him with himself, but Regulus wouldn’t budge. Dumbledore stood up, making everyone turn towards him.

“To the first years, welcome to Hogwarts!” he paused looking through the swarm of children. “Normally, I would have let the announcements wait until all of you are fed and fine, but there is something very important that you all need to know. Miss Y/s/n Y/l/n died a few days ago at the hands of a death-eater.”

Sirius’s heart dropped. Y/s/n? Was he hearing correctly?

“Her sister Y/n, present at the same place was tortured severely. We’ve somehow managed to keep her alive and she’s currently in the hospital wing in undefined coma. Times are dark for us. If…”

Sirius tuned out of the speech feeling something wash over him. He looked over to Regulus who rubbed at his eyes. It didn’t take him a much to figure out he was crying. Sirius looked down as a memory attacked him.

“Sirius, no! We’ll get caught!” you giggled making him smile involuntarily.

“Y/n, trust me, it was somewhere here!” he said, taking her further into the woods. He finally spotted the lake.

“See?” he said as your eyes sparkled taking in the beautiful scene.

“Wow. This is so pretty!” you gasped as Sirius took in your expression. “Wait until Regulus and Y/s/n see this!”

Sirius scoffed. He went to sit down over a rock gesturing you to sit beside him.

“This place is only for me and you,” he grumbled making you laugh.

“If you say so.”

There was silence for a moment as you took the beautiful spot in. Sirius however, couldn’t stop thinking.

“Why do you always want to bring Y/s/n and Regulus too? Am I not enjoyable enough?” he whispered as you looked at him.

“You’re taking this the wrong way, Sirius. I always want to bring them because I love them. I don’t want Y/s/n to sulk behind. Father is still grieving over our mother. She wouldn’t say it, but it affects her a lot. She was way closer to him anyway. I just want to make sure she stays happier than me. I always wish that I could give her everything she hopes for. I’m certain you want the same for Regulus?”

Sirius smiled. You really did love your sister.

“Yeah, I do.”

James shook Sirius, breaking him out of his reverie.

“Sirius, the food his here!” he said as Sirius nodded.

“Yeah, yeah.” He said placing something on his plate. He tuned out of what his friends said, lost in his thoughts.

***

Sirius tossed and turned through the night. He couldn’t sleep. Your thoughts ravaged him. He got up from his bead and quietly went over to James’ bed. Taking out the map and the invisibility cloak, he tried to make as less noise as possible. He went out of the common room, looking for anyone who might be roaming the corridors and stalked towards the hospital wing. He took off his cloak at the entrance, looking for the signs of the matron, but she wasn’t there. He tiptoed inside, walking towards the farthest bed. They always kept the more severely injured people there.

“What are you doing here?” a voice came, making him jump. He turned to see Regulus scowling at him.

“I’ve come to see Y/n.” he said calmly.

“No, you don’t deserve. Just go back to your Gryffindor friends that you love so much. Leave like you always do,” Regulus spat as Sirius’s stomach lunged.

“I don’t take orders from you.” Sirius said sharply as Regulus scoffed.

Sirius moved towards your bed, ignoring his brother. He had to see you, just once.

“Of course you don’t. You don’t take orders from anybody. Mighty big of you to come and see Y/n when you were the one caused this.”

Sirius’s head snapped towards Regulus.

“I’m the one who did this?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know anything. Y/n made a pact with the death eaters to not take her sister in exchange of marrying a pure-blood. You couldn’t have waited 4 more days. Just 4 more days,” Regulus croaked, as a tear fell down his cheek. “They went after them the moment you ran away. Tortured Y/n and-”

Regulus broke down, taking in big gulps of air to control himself.

“No,” Sirius whispered, the weight of Regulus’s words crushing him. “NO!”

She wasn’t marrying him for money or- He felt stupid. So stupid. Sirius tried to breathe. His legs felt weak as they quivered.

“Leave.” He heard Regulus say as he stood fixed on the spot.

“I SAID LEAVE. YOU DIDN’T GIVE A FUCK THEN, YOU DON’T GIVE A FUCK NOW. LEAVE.” Regulus shouted, his voice echoing through the hall.

So he did. He left. He ran towards the room of requirement knowing he wouldn’t last long without breaking down.

He dropped down on the floor as his body shook with cries. He screamed. He screamed until his throat felt raw. He couldn’t see. Regulus’s words echoed in his ears as his brain made him remember all moments he spend with you and Y/s/n. He was the reason Y/s/n died. He caused you to suffer through everything. Come to think of it, wasn’t he the one who cut you off from his life? He was the one who stopped talking to you the moment you were sorted in Slytherin. He was the one who ignored every attempt made by you to reach out. He was the reason you ultimately stopped trying. And that, that ate him whole.

“I’m okay,” Sirius sneered as you just shook your head.

“I’m sure you are,” you said taking his hands softly and looking at the red lines on his palms.

You took the wet cloth slowly placing it on the flesh as Sirius hissed.

“Why do you always have to go against them Siri?” you asked softly.

“They were wrong, okay?” Sirius said before hissing again.

“Yes, but you know the consequences of speaking up. They would never listen to you. Why suffer more?” you whispered as he looked at you. “I hate to see you hurt Siri.”

You took his palm, placing small kisses all over making his heart flutter. He almost whined when you pulled away.

Sirius sniffed feeling numb. He didn’t want to go back to his dorm. The room seemed to understand him, turning into a cozy bedroom. He sighed, getting up and laying on the bed, transforming into his amingus form. He curled up, sadness giving way to sleep soon.

A/N: This was requested by a lovely anon. I feel this is complete and won’t be doing a part two!

#sirius #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #hp #harry potter #the marauders #regulus #regulus black #Anu writes #marauders #james potter #remus lupin

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willadisastercry · 3 years

Text

Lance ignores his asthma and Coran is not willing to be an accomplice pt. 2

It’s a race against the clock as Lance’s lungs worsen and his team scrambles to come up with a remedy before it’s too late. And though this whole mess certainly could’ve been avoided had he been upfront about his situation to begin with, his team will have to save the scolding for when Lance can focus on something other than the pain of trying to force air into his rapidly constricting airways. Altean technology works fast, but what if fast isn’t fast enough?

Part 1 / Part 2

“D’you check these yet?” Hunk asked as he threw open the topmost drawer of the in-wall storage space in Lance’s cabin.

“No, and it’s not in here either... I don’t understand wh—shit!” Keith cursed as he knocked over the trash can beside Lance’s nightstand and began scooping the contents back up.

“I don’t know where it could possibly be if—“

“—found it...” Keith interrupted as he held up the inhaler that had fallen out with the rest of the trash.

“Did you just get that from the... don’t you dare tell me it’s... oh, quiznak!”

“We’ve gotta tell Shiro...”

Keith was scared that Hunk would actually cry with the way his body tensed and his eyes glossed over.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Coran will know what to do,” Keith offered as he forwent cleaning up the rest of the mess he made for the sake of time.

“Bring that with you, maybe it can help him figure something out,” Hunk said after a second of staring blankly before he turned on his heel and joined Keith in a mad dash back to the training deck.

When they finally made it back they wished they’d never left.

Lance was collapsed onto his forearms with a very distraught Shiro rubbing circles on his back as he struggled to take in heaving breaths. He hadn’t even realized they’d returned until Shiro spoke up.

“Thank god you guys are back, just toss it—”

“It’s empty, this was his last inhaler...” Keith offered for the look of utter despair on Shiro’s face as Hunk sunk down next to them and placed one hand beside Shiro’s on his back and wrapped the other around Lance’s, receiving a weak squeeze in thanks for the small comfort.

“You’re gonna be fine dude... Coran and Allura are going to help, they can fix this. Just keep breathing as deep as you can,” he repeated over and over as Lance’s chest continued to hitch, the wheezes so loud and guttural now as his lungs worsened and his body grew more exhausted.

Understanding washed over Shiro all at once and then he was moving, maneuvering Lance’s struggling body despite the unwillingness of his lax limbs.

He was too exhausted to do much of anything aside from keep his chest rising and follow whatever direction his pliant frame was guided, letting himself be pushed back onto his heels as hands clasped his forearms and settled on his back to keep him from tipping over.

Every muscle in his abdomen was screaming. A similar tension burning up his neck and seeping into the sinews between his shoulder blades that made his head feel way too heavy to sit atop his shoulders. After not even thirty ticks of trying to summon the strength to keep it up he let it hang forward, the hands on him tightening their grips when he did.

He was extremely grateful they couldn’t see his face anymore because tears were beginning to form quicker than they could fall and he was sure he would have been fully sobbing at that point if he’d had any energy to spare.

“We’re meeting everyone at the infirmary then, you guys run ahead and let Coran know,” Shiro ordered as he motioned for Hunk to take hold of Lance while he turned away and crouched.

With some help he rose on shaking legs, Keith rushing to support his other side when his oxygen deprived legs protested the action.

“Woah, we’ve got you... thanks Keith...”

Their hands under his armpits kept him standing long enough to collapse onto Shiro’s back.

He literally only had the energy after that to throw his arms over Shiro’s shoulders and nestle his chin securely in the space between his own bicep and Shiro’s neck before his body sagged against his leader like dead weight.

“Go! I’m right behind you,” he shouted, his voice dark and fearful.

He could feel Lance straining against him as he followed after them, could hear the way his congested airways sputtered each time he tried to breathe.

Shiro made his way with steady urgency, not exactly jogging but not walking either, the anxiety bubbling in his stomach only forcing his legs to pump quicker as Lance got worse.

Keith and Hunk made it to the medbaby in record time though, both boys panting after sputtering to a halt once they made it through the whooshing doors.

The paladins knew today’s workout would be a doozy, but none of them expected to be doing this much running, especially under these circumstances.

Pidge was on the floor sorting through boxes of medicine and supplies carrying on an in-depth conversation regarding the compositional makeup of altean pharmaceuticals with Coran and Allura.

“Hey guys—wait why do you have...?”

“Empty...”

Keith answered a bit breathlessly as he waved the tube of navy and teal plastic in the air before gesturing to toss it to Coran who nodded and raised his hands in anticipation.

“...figured you’d want to take a look at the ingredients or whatever before Shiro got here with him.”

The air in the room seemed to thin as worry descended upon everyone.

“Christ, Lance!” Pidge exclaimed and sat back on her heels.

“Yeah, he’s not doing too hot,” Hunk said as he joined them, stealing the box of tubes and gadgets from Pidge to rifle through it himself.

Coran’s frown somehow deepened and Allura looked increasingly more distraught as he began filling them in.

“What level of dangerous is his breathing at?” Pidge asked hesitantly, like she didn’t want to hear the answer.

“He’s panicking and already really exhausted, so pretty dangerous. It’s one of the worst attacks I think he’s had in a while...”

Allura worried at her lip and kept glancing between the jumble of medical supplies and the medbay doors while she worked absently to ready a bed, the mice smoothing out wrinkles in the sheets and pulling down corners for her.

“Well, it was smart of number four to think of bringing this. I am synthesizing several medicines in likeness but none of them are exactly complete yet—”

“That’s—fuck, that’s not gonna be good enough...”

Everyone stilled at Hunk’s harsh interruption, his hands shaking in loose fists at his sides while he stared fixedly at the boxes of miscellaneous medical equipment in front of him.

“Lance can’t breathe, he can’t just wait for something to finish synthesizing, he might not be breathing at all when it’s done!”

Pidge scooted across the floor and laid her tiny hands on top of Hunk’s trembling ones.

“I think what Hunk means to say is that Lance’s condition is, erm, kinda dire and requires something that works as fast as possible.”

“Hmmm, I see. That is why the blue wilgam bark salve is strictly for prevention... this is indeed a rather tricky—ah, though I suppose I can try to extract and aerosolize whatever might remain of his earth remedy for a temporary solution,” Coran noted as he braved his stern concentration face and began separating the metal canister from the outer plastic to compare the words on it to the words on the bottles of medicine in front of him.

“And we can always place him in a pod for however long it takes to create an accurate remedy... he is truly in the best hands Hunk, do not fret so much,” Allura finished with a tight smile that was warm and assuring all the same.

It was strange how well she could do that, squash so much worry with such a simple act.

Coran hurried over to a station with lots of tools and canisters and turned on several machines that made various clicking and whirring noises.

Keith’s nose wrinkled at the new sounds but he couldn’t find it in him to feel angry about it. Not when they were going to help Lance when was in such bad shape.

“Okay, okay... those are good ideas,” Hunk agreed with a gasp, he hadn’t realized he’d been withholding air as he lost himself in his panic.

“Deep breaths, big guy,” Pidge urged, the weight of her hands bringing him back down from the brink of panic as his mind raced.

“Yeah, don’t forget that you’re the one who can actually breathe,” Keith chided gently with a hesitant hand on Hunk’s shoulder.

“Right... sorry. It’s just that these can get ugly really quick if—“

The doors whooshed open with an unsettling burst of air as Shiro emerged and crossed the room in a matter of seconds, a flurry of concerned exclamations filling the silence in between pauses of commotion that should have been hurried gasps for air.

But weren’t.

There wasn’t time to make sense of the lack of color in Lance’s face or the absence of movement in his chest as Shiro slid him off of his back, human hand trembling as he moved to support his middle and the base of his neck as he lowered his lifeless body onto the bed.

It was a grim enough sight to have even Allura’s mice crying out.

“Lance!”

“Holy fuck...”

Pidge was acting on autopilot as she pinched the altean breathing mask Coran had pulled out over the bridge of his nose and cupped it under his chin to secure the seal, Keith moving in eerie similarity to connect the tubing and flip the right switches on the machine when it became apparent that Hunk wouldn’t be spurred from his horror any time soon.

It wasn’t prepped because they hadn’t realized they’d be needing it so soon.

“No... nonononono—“

They aren’t sure how they heard it through the muddle of commotion and devastating silence but it stopped them all in their tracks, the faintest whisper of air passing his lips.

His very blue lips, go figure.

“He’s breathing, Hunk. Just barely, though...”

Lance’s eyes were open still and staring at nothing as his neck strained for air that was there now but still not accessible with how severely inflamed his lungs had become, the only sounds leaving his lips at all just rapid exhales where he couldn’t expel enough before his aching lungs screamed for more of what the mask was providing

“It doesn’t look like it’s helping...” Hunk all but sobbed as he gripped the base board of the bed so tightly his fingers blanched.

Lance’s eyes bobbed at that, struggling to locate who out of his friends was distressed through the tears welling at their brims.

They were puffy and bloodshot as silent tears spilled in a continuous stream, his eyebrows drawn together with pain and desperation.

“That’s because it’s not,” Shiro deadpanned, his hands working to soothe over Lance’s stuttering chest as his rasping breaths caught in his throat on their way out.

“Wh-how is it not working... it’s oxygen?!”

It was almost pitiful how helpless Keith looked as he stated the very blatant fact, his expression sharp and his tone prickly, like he didn’t know who or what to be mad at.

“His airways,” Pidge started weakly, her voice wavering, “they must be too tight for the air to get through...”

Shiro’s hand gripped Lance’s fiercely. It was ice cold.

The gravity of the situation dawned on his friends like a literal blow then, all eyes turning to Allura.

“Coran... he-he’s working on something, but...”

It wasn’t often that the paladins saw the princess hesitate. Her usual order of proceeding during a crisis was to do something brave or noble first and think about it later, but her impulse instinct was uncharacteristically absent as she stared at Lance’s greying face.

Her hands rose slowly, long fingers uncurling from where they’d been pressed tightly in her palms to reveal a subtle pink glow.

“Princess...”

“I know, Shiro... it’s just—I am scared it might cause him greater discomfort...”

“I don’t think we have time to worry about that, Allura,” Keith noted gravely from the foot of the bed where Lance’s eyes were half focused and darting between him and Hunk.

A status update from Coran made the tension in the room skyrocket further as he estimated another twenty or so dobashes before anything was viable.

It only took one more particularly worrisome sound of distress from Lance for Allura’s hands to descend on his chest with certainty, the pink furls leaving her fingers and settling on his body for not even a second before his back arched off the bed with a strangled gasp.

Allura grimaced as she called upon several energy reserves to ease the vice constricting Lance’s lungs as fast as she could.

A phantom tightness bloomed in her own chest as she visualized the pressure leaving his while she forced each passage back open, the channel she had opened between them by using her powers allowing her to feel the gridlock for herself.

She didn’t let up until Lance was sinking back into the pile of pillows and by then she was so lightheaded that her vision was spotting, but Keith was at her side and gripping her elbow securely before she could even stumble when the strength in her legs wavered.

“I am quite alright, just feeling a bit weak.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you take a seat for a few anyway?”

Lance couldn’t really make sense of the conversations going on around him while he collected himself after being released from the pulls of Allura’s magic.

“It’ll pass, Keith.”

“Allura...”

Not that he was known for having stellar listening skills, but he was just usually able to follow along with the general flow of things even when otherwise preoccupied.

“Coran you said only eighteen minutes, right?”

The voices of his friends filtered back in slowly though, his skull throbbing still after the horrible pressure had lifted.

“Can you lift his head for a sec so I can secure the strap?”

He hadn’t been coherent of much of anything before, fixing what remained of his energy on the miserable stalemate in his chest.

“It’s only seventeen dobashes and forty three tics now...”

And then the twisted relief of Allura’s magic.

But after that his hearing seemed to flatline, zeroing in on a high pitched hiss that was either static or the oxygen flow of which droned on and dribbled into his present when the tension that had yanked every muscle in his body taught alleviated all at once.

It was so disorientating it almost nauseated him and brought a distinct rush of blood to his eardrums, the oxygen flooding his deprived bloodstream like a dam had broken and left him feeling utterly weightless.

Shiro was the first one to break through the barrier of cotton that muffled his brain.

“Easy, Lance,” he instructed when he didn’t start breathing normally right sway, too stunned by the sudden levity to remember how.

“Take it slow hermano, you’re okay now...”

Everything was still uncomfortably tight and restricted, but air was at least accessible even as his body struggled to acclimate to the change, his heaves greedy and crackling.

“I was able reduce the inflammation for now but there is a substantial amount of fluid that remains in his lungs.”

“Fluid? What like blood?”

“No, Keith, not blood. Phlegm.”

“Oh, gross.”

Lance let out an indignant huff at that and despite the restriction of the mask managed to return the look of disgust the mullet had given him.

“Why is that so bad if it’s just phlegm?”

“Because anything in your lungs besides air is bad, Keith. It’s your lungs!”

“Precisely, Pidge. And it will only keep irritating Lance’s but we cannot risk him progressing back to such a state before Coran has derived his medicine when my powers are not indefatigable.”

“Yep...” Lance winced.

In order to speak he had to battle against the congestion in his chest which made his already wrecked voice sound downright abrasive.

“Shhh, no talking!” Pidge hissed with a warning glare.

But when was Lance ever known to take good advice when it’s given?

“Think... I can feel th’fluid... s’not very—“

He didn’t have to elaborate any more than that to get his point across because the rapping of his own vocal cords against each other had him launching into a harsh fit of coughing that rocked his entire frame. The accumulated cloud of condensation in the mask never allowed to chance to dissipate fully as he hacked.

It sort of felt like he was drowning since he didn’t have the strength to get his arms underneath him while all of the crap that his stupid respiratory system produced to counteract the strain in his lungs only worked to suffocate him and his freshly reduced air passages.

“Shit someone help me get him up, it’ll be easier to breathe if he’s vertical...”

Hunk surged to grab the arm that was closest to him as Shiro slotted his own beneath Lance’s back and hefted him into what only partially passed as a sitting position. But the motion made his head spin and his stomach clench and then Hunk’s hands planted on either of his shaking shoulders to keep him from tilting over as Shiro slid behind him.

The others looked on with horror.

“You’re okay,” Shiro assured as he pulled Lance towards himself.

He was grateful for the solidity of Shiro’s chest, his hold firm enough that Lance didn’t have to work anymore to keep himself up as he slumped into it, but the tears started back up anyway when he continued to actively choke on what felt like nothing despite being upright.

But there wasn’t anything in his throat to actually choke on.

“Just gotta work through it...”

He was starting to get really tired of the exhaustion and malaise that came with being deprived of oxygen for an extended period of time.

“Paladins! Only fourteen—er, minutes remaining.”

“Hear that bud? You’re gonna be okay.”

He did hear but he’s shaking his head in the crook of Shiro’s arm where his head had lolled because he can’t wait that long. He can’t.

“Yeah, you’ll feel better real soon,” Hunk affirmed.

But Lance was verging on a hysteria that he couldn’t summon the strength to express when every muscle that can be strained in his body felt like it most definitely was. And with how acutely his ribcage ached he was also certain he’d displaced a couple of those false ribs made up of just cartilage too.

“Hey, no don’t get upset, you’re gonna be fine!”

He’s never been more exhausted in his life and he can’t communicate that he can’t wait that long because he hasn’t stopped coughing.

His eyes are burning from the amount of crying he’s done so he relies on touch alone when a hand cups his chin and turns it, deducing it must be Allura.

“Lance, can you hear me?”

A shakey jerk seems to be good enough for her.

“I know you aren’t the biggest fan of the healing pods, but I understand that you are in a great deal of distress still and I believe you have endured enough...”

“What are you—oh, yeah! We could totally just put him in stasis like you and Coran were for thousands of years and bring him out when the medicine is ready.”

“Yes, just as Pidge puts it. There is no need to extend the suffering of one of my paladins.”

Shiro set his jaw as he regarded Allura sternly, it didn’t matter what she believed if Lance didn’t agree and he knew how wary he was of returning to the pods after the harrowing experience that landed him in one for the first time.

“Is that something you want to do? It’s alright if you aren’t comf—“

“Please.”

His voice was small, hard even a rasp, but it didn’t need to be loud for Shiro to accept it as his answer.

“Okay...”

Lance checked out after that, allowing himself to save the energy it took to focus on what was happening around him.

So when he started registering Shiro’s voice in his ear he wasn’t exactly sure how both him and the respirator came to be at the foot of a cryochamber but he made a desperate noise at the realization.

“I know, bud. You’re almost there but we need to take the mask off.”

No one missed the fear that flashed across his face before it softened into resignation, or otherwise known as I don’t care, please put me in that stupid thing right now.

Shiro was still holding him and seemed to sense the urgency in it.

“I’m gonna stand up with you...”

It was so surprise when Lance’s knees hardly held any of his own weight before wobbling and giving out as Shiro stood with him still flush against his chest.

He regarded Hunk with a lazy roll through lidded eyes as he tipped his head forward and worked the strap off but held the mask in place.

Distantly aware of the burst of air from the pod opening and a renewed flurry of commotion around him, Lance tried to work with Shiro as he ushered him forward but his legs were too heavy and he couldn’t coordinate his movements well.

Someone else’s hands were on him, bending his knee so they could set one leg down in the pod and send the rest of his body with it. He thinks it might’ve been Keith.

The various sets of hands on him stay even after he’s securely in place, probably scared he would crumple if they did.

They were probably right.

“-nce. Hey, Lance? There you are, this is gonna suck but only for a second. I promise. Ready?”

You would’ve missed the brief hum from his somewhere deep in his sore chest if you weren’t practically inside the pod with him like Shiro seemed to be.

“Okay, now Hunk.”

The crackling heave that erupted from hims mouth was something a dying thing made, but he couldn’t hear himself or the horrible sound he made as consciousness began to swiftly melt away in stages.

First with the initial pressure everywhere after the removal of the mask.

And then pain because holy shit he couldn’t breathe.

But the cold creeped into his bones at light speed and the darkness wasn’t too far behind.

#lance whump #vld #voltron fandom #lance voltron #vld lance #lance mcclain #lance has asthma here #voltron whump #voltron #asthma #lance headcannon #voltron fic #voltron headcanons #voltron fanfic #voltron lance #voltron angst #hunk vld #hunk anxiety

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idreamofplaid · 3 years

Text

Possibility

Square Filled: Ice Play

Characters: Sam x Olivia (OFC)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Olivia’s fairy tale with Sam continues with a morning spent in bed on the first day of the new year.

Word Count: 4024

A/N: Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 and @dean-winchesters-bacon my wonderful betas and just generally beautiful people for all their suggestions and taking the journey through the development of this story with me.

A/N 2: This is Part 3 of the series Surrender to the Truth.

Catch Up: It Begins (Part 1) Texas Magic (Part 2)

Created for @spnkinkbingo

Sam was holding Olivia’s hand in the elevator. His fingers were entwined with hers, and she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this happy. She’d never had a year start out with this much promise. Her heart felt light with possibility, inspired by the way Sam had kissed her at the stroke of midnight just minutes before.

When they reached the 26th floor, the car stopped, the doors opened, and the other two people in the elevator exited, leaving them alone. Sam let go of Olivia’s hand and turned to face her, pressing her into the wall. His mouth covered hers, and she felt herself going weak from his kiss. He could almost make her literally light headed, like she had lost touch with reality, her mind floating in a blissful place created for her by him.

When his hand traveled below her waist to rest on her hip while he kissed her, she had the presence of mind to say, “Sam, the doors could open. Somebody could see us.”

He squeezed her ass. The way he was looking at her made her understand what smolder meant. “They could.” He paused for a minute, letting what he’d said sink in, and the idea of having an audience suddenly became very hot. Then, he raised his hand to caress her cheek. “Everybody on the other side of those doors should envy me because I’m in here with you.”

The bell dinged, and Sam let his hand drop from her face. They had reached their floor. He put his hand on her waist, very respectable for anyone who might see. Olivia thought about what they must look like to anyone who saw them, and it made her smile. They no doubt appeared to be a couple headed back to their room after the party.

The reality was they had two rooms, but maybe tonight they wouldn’t need them both. Olivia’s heart began to beat faster when Sam stopped at his door and took her hands in his. “Will you come inside with me?”

She gave herself a minute to enjoy that this was actually happening after weeks of dreaming about it, already the smile was blooming across her face. “Yes.” She uttered the word that was going to change her life, knowing that if she spent this night with Sam her feelings for him would grow even deeper, and she would be committing herself to a path that she would find difficult if not impossible to leave should things not work out.

He took off his jacket as soon as they were in the room and tossed it on the bed. Sam pulled the shirt from his tuxedo pants and started to unbutton it. Olivia couldn’t take her eyes off him. Sam opened the buttons to the middle of his chest, and he stopped, his hands hovering over the next button. He fixed his eyes on Olivia. “Do you want to finish for me?”

Olivia stepped out of her high heels and walked toward him, and Sam moved his hands so she could take the button in her fingers. She made her way down his shirt. With each button she opened, she exposed more of his golden skin. When the shirt was hanging open, she put her hand on the center of his chest and slipped her fingers beneath the fabric to feel his skin, as warm and soft as she remembered, over the firmness of his pecs.

Sam bent and kissed her again. This time his tongue touched the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. She parted them, letting him in. He put his hand into her hair and lightly grasped a handful while he kissed her. Olivia’s hand slid down his body to just below his ribs, and she let it rest there. She needed to touch him, remind herself he was solid and real; this wasn’t a dream.

He still tasted faintly like chocolate from the dessert they’d shared earlier. She pushed the white dress shirt off his shoulders and down his back. It fell to the floor, and she put her arms around him so she could feel the muscles rippling beneath his shoulder blades while he continued to kiss her and drag her deeper into the kaleidoscope of feelings she had for him. They were ever changing but always beautiful and fascinating as the form of them changed.

She heard herself make a noise somewhere between a sigh and a whimper as Sam kissed down her neck all the way to her clavicle that was peeking out from the v-neck of her dress. He sucked on it gently, and she started to ache for him in her core.

Sam reached behind her and eased down the zipper of her dress. With just as much care, like he hadn’t undressed her before, he peeled the dress from her body, and it pooled on the floor. Sam lowered his eyes and looked down her body like he’d never seen it before either.

“God, you are amazingly beautiful.” His words stirred something in her. She’d heard them before, or some variation. Usually when men said them, it meant “I want to fuck you.” This was different. Sam was looking at her like he actually saw HER, not just her body.

He held her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly, with just the right amount of passion to awaken something in her like a sleeping princess. Olivia hardly noticed him walking her in the direction of the bed while he kissed her; she was so lost in the way he was making her feel. Sam lay her down on top of the plush comforter and lowered himself on top of her.

The feel of him on her made her whisper Sam’s name into his mouth. His weight felt reassuring; she felt safe caged in his arms, even as the fire he had started inside her began to burn brighter and hotter. “Sam,” she called his name again.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered against her lips.

He made her feel so secure, so wanted. She wasn’t thinking. “Make me yours.”

Sam kissed her more deeply, his tongue becoming more insistent as it circled hers. He moved his hand slowly down her body, taking his time to feel every inch of her skin. Then he slipped his hand into her panties and found her clit. He teased it while he kissed her, moving his finger over it slowly, until it was swollen and aching.

Then he started to move his finger in fast circles, causing Olivia to grab onto his shoulders and gasp, “Oh, God. Sam.”

He nuzzled his nose into her neck just below her ear. “Let go. Come for me, Liv. Make my hand wet. Show me how much you want me.”

Her walls clenched hard around the emptiness when she came. “Sam, I need you.” She sunk her fingers into his hair while her orgasm continued to tear through her.

Sam covered her mouth with his and kissed her while she climaxed. “You’ve got me, baby.”

Olivia kissed him back, her lips soft and weak from the pleasure he’d given her. “More, Sam. I want more of you. Give me all of you.”

Sam lifted himself from her to take off his pants and drag her panties down her legs, leaving her bare and wanting before him. She opened her legs, asking him again silently to give her what she needed. Sam positioned his cock at her opening and pushed inside just a little, testing her readiness for him.

Her body accepted him, stretching to accommodate his size. “Does it feel good, Liv? Am I still what you want?”

“Yes, Sam. Yes.” She pulled at his hair and raised her hips, trying to get him deeper. With a smooth motion, he thrust into her and sheathed himself completely inside her body.

Olivia couldn’t have him closer than this, but it still wasn’t enough. She wanted even more from him, never had a man been so completely all consuming when she was with him. Every thrust of his body into hers pulled her a little more into the spell he had woven around her. By the time he came with her name on his lips, she knew she had passed the point of no return. She came with him, biting her own lip to keep from screaming.

When Sam pulled out of her, Olivia felt the loss. He was still right next to her in bed, busy with removing the condom. There was nothing romantic about this moment, but she still felt the pull from within her to reach out and touch him to reassure herself he was still there. Olivia resisted the urge and focused on catching her breath. She could barely breathe after what he’d done to her, the feelings he’d stirred to life that Olivia suspected would now never die. One day she would feel him inside her without that thin layer of rubber between them. She would know exactly what she was feeling, be able to put it to words, and say it out loud.

When he finished the necessary business, Sam laid down next to her and put his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

Olivia nodded. “Y...yes. It’s just that was...intense.”

Sam gave her his softest smile, barely turning up the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. It was.” He shifted a little to grab a handful of the comforter under him and moved to pull it from beneath him. “C’mon. Get under with me. I don’t want you to get cold.”

The covers were warm, but Sam’s body was warmer. As soon as she was in the sheets with him, Sam pulled her close. He kissed the corner of her mouth and reached behind her to open the hooks on her bra that she was still wearing. He lowered his head to her breast and placed a single kiss on her nipple.

She shivered from the tenderness of it. Sam moved his mouth back to hers and kissed her just as tenderly there. “This is the best New Year’s Eve I’ve ever had.” Those were the last words he said to her before she fell asleep in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning Olivia awoke to an empty bed. A bubble of panic rose up in her, and she grabbed Sam’s pillow. She could still smell him all over the bed. Where was he? Last night was too good to be true. She knew it. It was too much like a fairytale, or some romantic movie. Olivia sat up and held the sheet against her chest, suddenly very aware of how naked she was in Sam’s bed, and he was gone.

That was the moment Sam came strolling out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist, slung low over his hips. He walked over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her. “Morning, gorgeous.”

The smile instantly spread across Olivia’s face again. Sam’s hair was still damp from the shower. She reached out to touch it, wanting to know how it felt wet. It was still soft; she curled the ends of it around her fingers. His hair was the softest thing about him, other than his lips, and Olivia felt a blush beginning to creep into her cheeks, remembering everywhere those lips had been on her body.

She’d been so focused on her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed the way Sam was smiling at her. “You’re even prettier in the morning,” he said. Now, the blush that had been on the verge of happening bloomed over her cheeks. Sam kissed her flushed cheek. “Why don’t you take your turn in the bathroom? Breakfast is going to be here soon.”

“Breakfast?” Olivia sat up straighter and tucked the sheet around her like a sheath.

Sam rubbed his thumb over her bare shoulder with an easy familiarity and sensual reminder of the night before. “Yeah, breakfast. I ordered room service while you were still sleeping.”

Sam noticed the way Olivia was holding the sheet around herself. He lifted one side of his mouth in a flirty half smile. “I can look away while you walk to the bathroom. Or….” He stood up and finished his sentence. “You can have my towel.”

He untucked the fold of the towel that was holding it on his body, and it fell away from him. Sam held it out to her. She’d spent all night in bed with this man, allowing him to do all kinds of marvelous and memorable things to her. Still, the sight of him naked made her mouth fall open slightly.

Olivia’s eyes made their way from his hazel eyes that were the green of emeralds shining in sunlight right now, down over his impressively broad and muscled shoulders to the veins in his strong forearms. They moved down farther to his taut abs and the thin line of hair leading down to his cock that was large and thick even while soft and hanging between his legs. Her eyes finished their journey down his legs, as lean and muscular as the rest of his body, and back up to his face.

Sam was still holding his towel out to her. “Go ahead. Put it on.” It surprised Olivia just how well he could read her. She was not feeling nearly as bold or confident as he was on this morning after, but she could certainly appreciate, and was thankful, that he was.

The towel was as damp as his hair, but Olivia didn’t care. She liked knowing she was putting on the same towel that had been around him just seconds before, and it was true she wasn’t ready to feel his gaze on her nude body in the bright light of morning. She told herself she was just being weird to feel self conscious at this point, after how intimate they had been with each other, but it made her feel vulnerable not knowing exactly where whatever this was between them stood.

Sam did turn his back while she got out of bed and put on the towel, but he made it seem like the most natural thing in the world. He was rifling through his suitcase, looking for some clothes, conveniently facing the other direction. Olivia couldn’t help herself. She snuck a peek at his firm ass as she made her way to the bathroom.

Once there, Olivia took a deep breath. She was still waiting for the coach to turn into a pumpkin. So many thoughts and feelings had been coursing through her that more practical matters had completely vacated her mind. Things like she didn’t have any clothes. The cocktail dress she’d been wearing when she entered Sam’s room the night before was still on the floor where it had fallen when he took it off her.

Sam was thinking more clearly. There, on the counter, lay one of his t-shirts that he had folded neatly and left for her. Olivia ran her fingers over the Egyptian cotton, appreciating the luxury of it and the thoughtfulness of the man who’d left it there for her.

She dropped Sam’s towel to the floor and turned on the water in the shower. She checked the stream to see that it was warm enough before she stepped inside. Rivulets of water ran down her body, and she turned so the water could cascade over her hair. She ran her hands through it, pushing it back from her face.

Olivia closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of it. She luxuriated in the water running over her body for a minute or two before she began to bathe herself. The hotel had, of course, provided bath gel and shampoo in an almond scent that was divine; but Olivia wished she had her own that was back in her room. She wanted to smell pretty for Sam, the way she’d smelled last night.

When she was done with her shower, she toweled herself off and slipped Sam’s t-shirt over her head. The v-neck was cut so deep it went nearly down to the top of her stomach, but she was covered. Funny, she was trying to cover herself now. Fortunately, it was also long enough to conceal her lack of underwear.

Breakfast had arrived when she reentered the bedroom, and Sam was arranging food on a tray. He looked up; his eyes skimmed her body, taking note of what she was wearing. Olivia thought for a moment that she saw the flash of a memory in his eyes, or at least she hoped she did.

His smile and the accompanying dimples shortly followed whatever he’d been thinking. “Get back in bed.” His voice was smooth and suggested a hint of a request, just enough to not be an unmistakable direction he expected Olivia to follow.

She climbed back into bed and settled the covers over her lap. Sam placed the tray over her legs. Considering how much food was on it, he must have ordered everything on the menu. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, fresh fruit and cream; sweet and savory were well represented.

The clock hadn’t struck midnight yet; the fairytale continued. “Sam, what is all this?”

He sat down next to her on the bed. “I wanted to make sure you have something you like.”

Sam noticed Olivia eyeing the strawberries. He picked one up, dipped it into the cream, and held it to her lips. She took a bite, and Sam’s eyes didn’t leave her mouth as she chewed. When she swallowed, he kissed the corner of her 0mouth and licked his lips, tasting the bit of cream she’d left there. He lifted his darkening eyes to hers and said, “Strawberries may be the sexiest food there is.”

He was doing it to her again. All her words bypassed her brain and went directly out her mouth. “When you’re holding one, they are.”

Sam picked up a pancake, rolled it, and dipped it into the cream. He painted Olivia’s bottom lip with it then kissed it off. “Maybe it’s pancakes.” His whisper was suggestive, and he tapped the rolled up pancake against Olivia’s lips.

She opened her mouth to take a bite and kept her eyes focused on him while she chewed. Then she answered, “They’re good too.”

They ate breakfast together from Olivia’s tray, alternating between feeding themselves and each other. The looks they shared became longer and more lingering throughout the meal. Between bites of food, there were sweet and sensual kisses that danced on the edge of passion until finally falling over that edge to open need for each other.

Sam’s tongue tangled around Olivia’s, the intensity of the kiss increasing until he broke it to move the tray from between them. He put it on the floor, not bothering to take it back to the table. The only thing he kept from the tray was his water glass which he put on the bedside table.

With nothing in his way, Sam pulled Olivia close and kissed her with her body pressed against him. She could feel the heat radiating from him. Her own body was heating up in response to the way he was moving against her, and when he eased his hand inside the “v” of the shirt to cup her breast she moaned.

“You like that, baby?” Sam pushed the shirt out of the way, freeing her breast, closed his mouth over her nipple and began to suck. Olivia sank her fingers into his hair and held him to her.

He swirled his tongue around her nipple and licked her like she was the best thing he’d tasted that morning, even sweeter than the cream at breakfast. Sam pulled off her nipple slowly, raising his eyes to meet hers. “Do you know how hot you are?”

Her only reply was the raising and lowering of her chest as her breathing got faster. Sam reached for his glass on the bedside table and pulled an ice cube from it. He ran it down the side of her neck, and she shuddered at the cold. Sam continued dragging the ice down her body to her exposed breast.

He touched the ice to the tip of her nipple where the heat of his mouth had been, and she arched her back into it. “You are so sensitive, Liv. I love that about you.”

Sam pushed the other side of the shirt open and latched his mouth onto her nipple while he continued to tease the first with the ice. She was clenching now, yearning to feel him inside her. “Sam, please.”

When the ice had completely melted, he moved his hand down between her legs to stroke her clit with his cold fingers. After a few seconds, Sam moved his mouth from one breast to the other. His mouth felt even hotter on her chilled nipple. “Oh, God. Sam.”

Olivia was so caught up in the sensations he was producing in her body, she didn’t realize what he was doing until she felt the ice cube touch her clit. She grabbed at his back, and when he eased it lower and pushed it inside her; she thought she might come undone. Sam circled his fingers on her clit while the ice melted inside her. He released her nipple so he could watch her.

When the ice had turned to water that leaked from her onto the sheets and her orgasm started to wash through her, Sam caught her mouth with his. He kissed her through every shake and spasm of her body. He felt her body go lax when she was spent, and he slowed his kiss.

Her soft little breaths filled his mouth. Her kiss was equally soft, weakened from the intensity of her orgasm, but her desire for him was still strong. “You, Sam. You.” Olivia’s hand closed around his hard shaft through his sweatpants. “I want you.”

Sam had no intention of denying her. He stripped off his clothes in a matter of seconds, and pinned Olivia’s wrists over her head, encircling them in one of his strong hands. He entered her with one deep, smooth thrust. Sam started to move, using the sounds she made as a guide to let him know when to speed up, slow down, or go deeper.

This time they came together. Sam grunted just before he let go with his release, and Olivia urged him on with her whimpers of pleasure. She contracted around him, milking him for everything he had.

Sam collapsed over her but kept his full weight off her, holding himself up on his forearms. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, then slipped from her and rolled to the side. He lay on his back next to her, his arm over his head. “That was incredible.” His breathing still hadn’t returned completely to normal.

Olivia looked at the ceiling for a moment before letting her eyelids flutter closed, enjoying the sound of his voice and the warmth of his body beside her. “You’re going to wear me out, Sam.” She smiled as she said it, her eyes still closed.

She opened them when she felt Sam shift position. He was propped on one elbow, looking down at her. “I’ve got an idea.”

He looked almost boyish the way his hair was falling in his face, and he was clearly pleased with whatever he was thinking. Olivia smiled up at him. “What’s this idea?”

“It’s New Year’s Day, so most everything in town will be closed, but the parks will be open.” Sam leaned down to kiss her softly, then continued explaining what he had in mind. “There’s a park by the river where I’d go to think when I used to come to Austin. I’d like to show it to you. We could take a picnic. What do you think?”

Olivia reached up to brush his hair back from his forehead. “I think I’d like that.” Her heart was fluttering in her chest. This year was off to a very promising start.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @tumbler-tidbits @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @jules-1999 @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @volleyballer519 @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @lovealways-j @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnbaby-67 @wayward-and-worn @asthesunwentdown @vulgar-library @petitgateau911 @thinkinghardhardlythinking

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @sams-sass @beskaradberoya @fromsamwtocordellw

#spnkinkbingo #sam smut #sam fluff #sam x ofc #sam series #surrender to the truth

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hotcheri · 3 years

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Always Something There to Remind Me (a Jen/Khalil Black Lightning fanfic)

DISCLAIMER: I own none of the Black Lightning characters. They solely belong to DC Comics and the CW Network. This is just my take on what could have happened after the show ended.

Prologue

Khalil's POV

They were meditating when TC crept into Khalil's mindscape like a thief in the night.

Well, at least, Khalil was meditating. He loved to empty his mind of all thoughts and focus on his breathing, relishing the mental stillness and the sense of peace he didn't have in his normal life.

Painkiller sat to the side of the mental dojo like he always did whenever Khalil was centering himself, a mocking sneer twisting his lips up as Khalil tried to ignore the rage that was baking off his mind twin like a rabid fever.

Painkiller was always angry, and the people he was mostly enraged at were the Pierces. Jen, to be exact. They lived in Painkiller's head rent free, and since Khalil shared the same mind as him, and almost all of his thoughts, the image of Jen was never far from Khalil. Pain in the ass Jen, who also happened to be Khalil's first love. What a mind fuck to love someone with all your heart while part of you needed to kill her and was in pure agony every second she was alive. Khalil didn't need anyone to tell him about mind fucks, having Painkiller relentlessly prowling through his mind was more than enough.

Every time TC appeared in Khalil's mindscape, Painkiller leapt up from his seat and started pacing back and forth in a tight little line like a tiger stalking its prey, hands clasped behind his back, nostrils flared, glaring at TC as if he wanted nothing more than to boot him out of his head after savaging him a little.

Too bad it's our head, and I'm trying to hear what he has to say.

The thought flitted through Khalil's mind grimly, and he sucked in a breath before opening his eyes and gazing at TC, who kept shooting quick little fearful glances at Painkiller. Khalil knew how he felt. Until he had started working actively with Painkiller, forcing the duality in his brain to coexist, he'd been terrified of him too.

"Uh, hi guys," TC started, his voice trembling as he looked around for exit points even though all he had to do was break the connection with the chip in Khalil's brain if he wanted to leave. Khalil supposed when someone entered a room and found themselves face to face with Painkiller, even if it was a virtual reality room, that person could get very scared very fast. In cases like that, logic was the first thing to escape.

Khalil liked the kid, had liked him even before he had locked Painkiller behind a firewall in his head and had shown Jen how to coax Khalil out of the safe space he'd created in his mind. Khalil knew without a doubt that the Pierces, especially Anissa, would have taken him out after Jen had blasted him with lightning to ward off Painkiller's attack on her family as he tried to complete the kill directive, because that's exactly what he would have done.

But TC had done the inconceivable. He'd managed to read Khalil's real thoughts, thoughts that had somehow filtered through the Painkiller operating system as soon as he set eyes on Jen. Thoughts that he must have been hiding way down in his secret heart, feelings that must have survived the A.S.A. mindwipe that transformed him into a lean, mean, biological weapon. As he lay prone on the table in Gambi's work station, on the verge of unconsciousness, his sharp ears had listened as TC, a total stranger, had his back.

"Hey. Who's Jen?" TC had interrupted the post fight argument, glancing around at the faces of people he didn't know.

Impatiently, with the touch of heat that Khalil loved and had missed with a sudden depth of emotion he hadn't felt since he was just track star Khalil, and not two warring parts of a government weapon whole, Jen replied, "That's me."

"He loves you."

And Jen's suddenly shaky, tear-filled voice had whispered, "How do you know that?"

TC's answer had been simple. "He told me."

Yeah, TC was good people. And even though the reunion between Khalil and Jen hadn't lasted, even though it had been bittersweet and doomed to fail with a painful, brusque ending, for a short, sweet time, he had been happy again.

But there was no use in thinking about that, no use in brooding over something he couldn't fix. With Painkiller in his head, being with Jen wasn't an option.

Painkiller was the first to talk, stepping forward as TC gave Khalil a half-hearted wave. "Oh, you must be crazy bringin' your ass here," he growled out in his distorted, angry voice.

TC took an involuntary step back, wringing his hands. Khalil could feel the fear in the kid increase as Painkiller stopped inches from his face, glowering down at him.

Raising a hand, Khalil talked to Painkiller like a patient parent calming down a tantrum throwing toddler. "I invited him," he lied, not caring that Painkiller would know that he hadn't.

Sharing his mind with a psychopathic, heartless killer sucked all the time, and keeping secrets was nearly impossible. Painkiller knew he was claustrophobic, that he loved trains, and that he thought about the one that got away daily. But when it came to people Khalil cared for, he didn't give a fuck if Painkiller knew he was lying to protect them from his rage. TC was a friend, and he wasn't going to let Painkiller's angry ass intimidate him.

"Don't think I won't kick your ass, too," Painkiller growled. Khalil fixed him with a steady look. He'd won more fights against Painkiller, especially after his return after a year long silence, and Painkiller knew it. After a few seconds, Painkiller sucked his teeth and resumed scowling at TC.

Spreading his arms out placatingly, TC asked, "What if I come with good and great news?"

A curious expression darted across Painkiller's face. Khalil caught it and grinned to himself. Psychotic or not, everyone liked the idea of good news.

"Speak," Painkiller ground out.

Swallowing nervously, TC said, "Tobias Whale is dead."

Okay, that was unexpected, and so was the rush of relief that coursed through Khalil's body, relaxing muscles that had been tense ever since he had started working for Tobias. Even though the A.S.A. mindwipe had taken all his memories and locked them away, they had been retrieved as soon as TC had put the firewall in his head, and so too had the underlying current of fear that always pulsed whenever he thought of Tobias.

And now his former boss, the man who had ripped out his spine and dumped him on the church steps when he was done with him, the evil torturer who had been responsible for leading Khalil over to the dark side was finally dead. Closing his eyes, Khalil sent up a prayer of thanks to a God he no longer strictly believed in.

Even after becoming Agent Odell's chief asset, Khalil still harbored thoughts that Tobias would come to him, eager to finish what he had started, wanting revenge for Syonide's death, the attempted robbery at the club before Khalil and Jen became runaways, and every single other thing he'd done that had pissed Tobias off. He'd reluctantly come to believe that a showdown with Tobias was inevitable, and even though his road to atonement had led him to Akashic Valley and a new life, he always knew that Tobias would eventually come for him. It was in his nature. But now this piece of good news had been thrown into his lap and Khalil took a moment to bask in gratitude.

Painkiller's reaction was the polar opposite of Khalil's restrained joy. Anger blazed onto his face and his brow creased as he listened to TC give Khalil the best news he'd heard in a while.

Sounding like a petulant child after being asked if he had McDonald's money, Painkiller groaned. "Damn. I wanted to kill him." He fisted both hands into his unruly curls and glowering up at the ceiling. "That's not good news." Turning to Khalil, his voice turned wheedling. "Let me kick his ass just a little."

With a quick glance towards Painkiller, TC cleared his throat before dropping his bombshell. "I've isolated the system code for the kill order. I can free you."

TC backed away till his back was against the wall, as far as he could get from a snarling Painkiller. When he got furious, Painkiller acted just like a wolf ready to attack. Luckily, Khalil had him on a mental leash. Ignoring him, Khalil focused his attention on TC.

"TC, what is your other news?"

Khalil let out a shaky breath, a glimmer of hope blooming in his chest.

At last.

"Good." Both TC and Khalil turned to face Painkiller, who had a look on his face so unnatural that Khalil didn't immediately recognize it. He looked like a doomed man seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Is he...is he happy? "Let's do it."

"But there's a catch," TC started slowly, plucking nervously at his sleeve as his eyes slid from Khalil to Painkiller and back again. Khalil sighed, motioning to TC to continue. There was always a catch and he knew that better than anybody, but for a second he had allowed himself to believe that getting rid of the kill order that brought such pain to both Painkiller and him, finally being freed from the chains that the A.S.A had wound around his body and in his mind, was ripe for the taking, with no blowback. "It's linked to everything you know and love about the whole Pierce family. If you break the kill order, you won't remember the Pierces at all."

The breath went out of Khalil all at once, leaving him feeling weak and boneless. He was glad he was sitting down, because if he had been standing when TC spoke, the strength would have ran out of his legs. And even though this was all in his mind, his physical body had stopped breathing for a second, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

This wasn't a catch, it was a fucking dilemma. There had to be another way.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Khalil found himself thinking about the technology he and Painkiller had found in Maya's safe house. Surely there was something there that would help isolate the kill switch without messing with his memories more than they'd already been messed with? Because this alternative that TC was suggesting... it wasn't fair. After leaving Freeland to keep Jen and her family safe and away from him, hell, after saving Anissa's wife from kidnappers, after everything that had happened in Khalil's life to get him to this point in time, losing the only good memories he had left just plain wrong.

"So what?" Painkiller asked, his top lip turned up into a snarl. Whether he was oblivious to the wave of emotion Khalil was weathering, or if he just didn't care, Khalil didn't know. Painkiller knew what he wanted. He was tired of the agony that came with not fulfilling the kill order. "They're pains in the ass anyway!"

In a chillingly calm voice that brooked no argument, Khalil stared evenly at Painkiller and said, "Shut up and sit your black ass down." Shocked into obedience, Painkiller sank down to the floor as Khalil looked at TC, a pleading tone in his voice. "TC, there's got to be another way around."

"There's none." Khalil could hear the despair in TC's voice, and he knew he was telling the truth. Of course he was. "I've checked and I've double checked."

Painkiller was still silent, and Khalil turned to look at him. "Damn!" He clenched his fist so hard that the veins in his arm popped out, but he took no notice. "You won't stop, will you? Sooner or later you're going to kill Jen and the rest of the Pierces."

Nodding sagely, like he had been the one meditating, Painkiller said, "Best believe. But I'm not nobody's puppy." He pointed at Khalil, his face stern and absolutely serious. "Cut the damn cord."

The muscles in Khalil's jaw worked as he stood up, turning his back on TC and Painkiller so that they couldn't see the emotions playing across his face. He wanted to be free of the kill code more than anything, needed Painkiller to be at rest so that he could figure out a way to become whole again. But the cost- losing Jen again- was it just too great?

Khalil closed his eyes, and suddenly, he was back on the Pierce's roof with Jen after Painkiller had broken free of the firewall for a couple of nasty minutes to wrap his hands around Jen's neck. He could feel everything in that moment, the wind brushing lightly against his face, the shingles of the roof under his sneakers, the terrified look Jen shot him before schooling her features into a coolness Khalil had never seen on her face. Both looks hit him like a ton of bricks.

She was scared of him.

Painkiller had shown her his true colors and had, once again, pushed someone he loved away from him. And what she had said had chilled him to the core, a sudden lump rising in his throat, and tears smarting in his eyes as she let him go.

"I can't love a weapon that's pointed at my family, even if it does have a soul." Her shoulders hunched pitifully as she wrapped her arms around her legs, all at once seeming far younger than her years. "See you around, Khalil."

He took one last look at her, her curly hair brushing past her chin, her eyes chilly and flinty in the dusk as she turned away from him, blinking away tears of her own. "No. You won't," he said, and with that, he had exited Jen's life.

Some things you can't go back to. The way Jen had ended things between them still hurt, and the realization that he wasn't going to be able to salvage things with her caused him pain that was almost physical, but if TC was able to isolate the kill code and erase his memories of her, the pain would go. All the pain would disappear, and his fresh start in Akashic Valley would be just that, a fresh start.

Behind him, TC started to say, "If you need more time, I can-," but by now, Khalil's mind was made up. There was no other choice.

"I always known I'd give my life for that girl." Khalil heaved a sad sigh, running a hand over his face as he turned to look at a nervous TC and an impassive Painkiller. Painkiller smirked, knowing what decision Khalil had made, and in that moment, Khalil hated him, the A.S.A., Odell- everyone who had gotten him into this situation. Especially himself. "Never thought I'd have to forget her." A nod towards TC. "Do it."

TC nodded dumbly, just as another thought flitted into Khalil's mind. If TC was able to isolate the kill code and erase some of his memories, wasn't it possible that he could remove his very worst memory?

Before he left Freeland for good after shooting Odell and letting Black Lightning deal with the evil son of a bitch however he saw fit, Khalil took a detour to the cemetery, picking a bunch of blooming flowers from the ramshackle garden of Mrs. Sutton, the Payne's old landlady. Khalil didn't think she would mind, she had loved Nichelle Payne dearly.

Once at the cemetery, he had laid the flowers on his mother's grave, sat down with his back resting against her tombstone and cried a little. Nobody had been around to see him; Freeland residents weren't crazy about going to the graveyard at nighttime.

"I shot the guy who made me kill you, ma," he'd whispered, his words blown away by the breeze as the tears blurred his vision. "I know you always said vengeance never pays, but I had to do it. I'm sorry, ma. I love you, and I'm so, so sorry."

Nichelle Payne had raised him to be the best in whatever he did, and what had he done in return? Snapped her neck, and the best excuse he could come up with was he'd just been following orders. The knowledge weighed heavily on his soul, and he knew that he would pay for it in time. Everything comes due. But if TC could somehow make him forget...

"I can try," TC said doubtfully, and Khalil raised his eyes from his clenched fists, remembering where he was through the sadness that engulfed his soul.

"No." Khalil shook his head, resigning himself to reality. "It's part of who I am, and I need to find redemption for it, or a way to live with myself."

TC opened his mouth and hesitated before shyly asking, "Do you want to- I mean, I could give you Jen's number and you could talk to her one last time?"

Painkiller groaned, storming around the circumference of the dojo angrily. "Can we fucking do this already? No more flashbacks, no phone calls- get this kill order the fuck out of my head!"

"Our head," Khalil reminded him. "And right now, I'm in charge." He bit his lip, wrestling with himself. Saying goodbye to Jen wouldn't make things better, it would just bring home the truth that he would never see his first girlfriend again, and even if by some weird coincidence he did, he wouldn't know her. It was stupid. They already said their goodbyes on the Pierce roof, what would he gain from this? "What's her number?"

Painkiller actually growled at this and stomped off somewhere. Khalil could still feel him burning in his mind, but it looked like he had opted out of being a part of Khalil's final goodbye. Not that Khalil minded in the least. Before Painkiller, his relationship with Jen had been special. He didn't want his insane mind twin tainting the very last moment he would have with her.

Courteously, TC severed the connection with Khalil's brain chip, promising to return when the phone call was over and start the process. Khalil stared down at his phone and punched in Jen's number before he could lose his cool. Meditation seemed like a lifetime away, it was all he could do to keep his heart from galloping away like a war horse.

Jen's phone rang once, twice, three times, and Khalil was just about to hit the end button when suddenly-

"Hi." Jen's bold, brash voice was in his ear, and Khalil forgot to breathe. The background noise was filled with laughter and music, a noise that Khalil associated with family time, even though he was never fortunate enough to have enjoyed family time with his mother working two jobs, his father in jail, and his brother running the streets with the 100. "You know you're calling from a- Anissa, stop!" Khalil closed his eyes, savoring the sound of Jen's hearty giggles as someone- Anissa, probably- tickled her or something similar. "You're calling from a private number, who is this?"

A male chuckle sounded, and Khalil recognized Gambi's voice sounding from the distance. "Probably a scam, hang up before they get all your info."

Same old Gambi, trusting nobody. A wistful smile turned up Khalil's lips, but he still couldn't come up with a thing to say. It was like all his thought circuits were down, and he wondered if Painkiller had something to do with it.

"Helloooo? Who is this?" Jen's voice turned speculative, and she gave a derisive snort. "This better not be TC playing with me again, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not going to prom wit' you?"

"I'm literally right here," TC protested in the background.

And Khalil found that he couldn't bring himself to say anything, let alone goodbye. He wasn't great with goodbyes, anyway, so who was he fooling? "Uh, sorry," he muttered. Why had he thought this would be a good idea again? "Wrong number."

In the few seconds it took for him to press the end call button, Jen's voice sharpened with recognition and she exclaimed, "Wait, that sounds a little like-."

Call ended blinked up at him from his phone screen as his pulse jumped in his throat. Safe getaway. Of course, he'd ended the call before Jen could say his name, or even more hurtful, the name of somebody else.

But fuck, hearing her voice was bittersweet.

"You hung up?" TC was back in his head, eyes gleaming with relief that Painkiller wasn't around.

Nodding, Khalil strove to keep his face blank and impassive. "Yeah. I'd rather remember her the way she was on that phone, happy, carefree, pain in the ass J."

She sounded happy and normal, like the old her, before the 100 had kidnapped her and she had discovered she had powers. She sounded like the Queen of Garfield. By coming back into her life even for a few seconds, he might jeopardize that happiness, and if there's one thing he wanted her to be after the events of the past few years, it was at peace and she wasn't going to find it with him.

"But you didn't get to say goodbye."

Pity was written all across TC's face, and once again, Khalil felt the wave of sadness engulf him. Did it ever stop? Even with his memories of Jen gone, would he really be at peace?

"I didn't need to." Khalil stopped, his shoulders slumped, and came to stand next to TC, who was still looking at him with that sympathetic look on his face. "TC..."

Looking up at him, TC said, "Yeah?"

"Don't tell her."

TC let out a dramatic gasp that made Khalil crack a smile, even though he had never felt less like smiling. "What? But I was just about to-?"

"No." Khalil shook his head resolutely. "Let her live her life." TC opened his mouth to protest, but Khalil talked over him. It was the only way. "You told me she lost the guy she was seeing, and she's already lost so much. Just- let her think what she's been thinking, that I left Freeland to live my life." He started pacing like Painkiller sometimes did, back and forth, his arms behind his back as he spoke. It felt like atoning for his sins. "I poisoned her. I almost killed her."

Interrupting, his voice utterly horrified, TC exclaimed, "That was Painkiller, not you!"

"Yeah, but don't you get it? He's in me, so even if I know that I'm not the one doing the poisoning, everyone else thinks it, because he's in my head wanting to kill all the time." Khalil stopped pacing and turned to TC, his face serious. "With the kill code gone, we can co-exist without the anger and rage that drives Painkiller. I came here for a fresh start and removing the memories of the Pierces will give me that." To show that he meant business, he clapped his hands together. "Let's do this. How's it gonna work?"

Getting back to business removed the pity from TC's face, and Khalil was glad. Seeing that look on his normally cheery friends face and knowing it was directed at him made him feel like even more of a shitty person.

Tapping his chin, Khalil asked, "So I won't remember that they're metas as well?"

"You'll forget about them. Anything related to them, too."

TC's eyes started to flash green as he went over the logistics of changing Khalil's life.

"No, you'll remember that, you'll know about Black Lightning, Thunder and Lightning, you just won't know their identities. You won't remember they're Pierces."

Nodding, Khalil said, "Got it." Actually, it sounded confusing to him, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it. "But if I want to reinstate my memories, can't I just come to you and-."

TC laughed as Khalil made a casual popping noise with his tongue in his cheek. "No. You won't even know that your memories are gone."

"And you're sure they'll stay gone."

This was the most important part. What ifs ran through Khalil's mind with the speed of a Formula One car. If he somehow ran into the Pierce sisters on vacation. If he helped someone from a mugger and it turned out to be Doctor Pierce? If Black Lightning ended up in Akashic Valley like Anissa had and they ran into each other?

Shifting from one foot to the other, TC said, "Um, 90% sure."

"90?" Khalil asked incredulously.

TC shrugged. "That's an A."

"I used to get straight A's in school," Khalil said musingly. "And then Odell dropped a few Master's degrees into my head, but that happened after I stopped caring about grades." TC gave him a confused, yet concerned look, and Khalil said, "Let's get rid of these memories."

A few minutes later, Khalil was lying on an operating table, a brain scanner that looked like a crown on his head. Philky just happened to have one lying around, which was pure Philky, and after TC had uploaded his program into the lab's computer, he'd told Khalil's master of tech exactly what to do. Donald was on standby in case something went wrong medically. And Painkiller? He was still in the dojo, and Khalil could feel the excitement thrumming through him. Khalil didn't blame him; he was excited too.

A high-pitched whine started up, and Khalil felt a pinprick of electricity tickle his forehead as the process started. TC had warned him about this.

What TC hadn't warned him about was, as the memories left, they replayed in his head, almost like a flashback reel.

Khalil saw himself on the Pierce roof with Jen, giving her a chaste, shy kiss as she agreed to be his girlfriend.

He saw himself stealing into Garfield High and meeting up with Jen by the lockers after enduring more abuse from Tobias, knowing that she was the only person he could really talk to despite what had gone down between them. Sitting down in silence, not needing to say a word because their connection was that powerful.

He saw them running away together, Jen using her lightning powers in front of him for the first time and blasting the 100 hoodlums. How he'd kissed her later on and it had been electric, and the hottest kiss he'd ever had.

He saw himself (the memories were blurry around the edges, soon they'd be gone but so would the kill code, it was for the best but it hurt, TC didn't say it would hurt this much) sitting next to Jen in his special place, his private place, his favorite place, the abandoned subway car, eating ramen and reminiscing on how he had asked her to be his girlfriend, and he had been so shy when he gave her the necklace, something that had caught his eye in Freeland's jewelry store and he'd saved up for two months to buy it for her, a necklace he was giving to her for the second time because he loved her, and he'd lost her once and wasn't about to let her go again and...

The memories faded as Khalil's mind cycled through the deepest, darkest levels of consciousness, and there was only darkness, and finally, blissfully, peace.

(See more on ao3 or wattpad!)

#black lightning #fanfic #khalil payne #jennifer pierce #jordan calloway #china anne mcclain #wattpad #ao3fic

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hoebii · 3 years

Text

Who

Pairing : Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre : Angst, light Fluff

Warnings : Cheating, grieving, past break up

Got inspired by the song ‘Who’ if you couldn’t tell sdaxhfvgf. Thank you @taegularities and @heejinnien for beta reading this and giving me pointers to make this better <3 This is the first fic that has been proof read and edited so we don’t die like men this time. As usual, send me any promts/ideas/requests you might have and I’ll try my best to do it justice. Feedback is always appreciated! :D

~~~~~~~~~~~

Our minds have new eyes and visions of you

Girl, I think I need a minute

To figure out what is, what isn't

The phone vibrated yet again, screen lighting up to display the caller ID. Yoongi decided to ignore it, head resting on his propped up hands.

There was a storm brewing inside his mind, and he didn’t know what to do anymore.

He knew the people around him were worried, saw the concern in their eyes every time he passed by and he hated it. He hated that he let it get this far, hated how uncertain he felt.

His mind couldn’t help but go back to the past, the memories coming back to haunt him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

These choices and voices,

they're all in my head

Sometimes you make me feel crazy

Sometimes, I swear I think you hate me like uh

I need a walk, I need a walk, I need to get out of here “I’ll always love you, no matter what the world throws at us.” She spoke sternly, her hands cupping his face. At that moment he felt like he was on the top of the world, his heart skipping a beat when his eyes met hers.

“You promise?”

“I promise, my love.” A scoff escaped Yoongi’s lips at the memory. “Bullshit,” he growled, gripping his hair, trying not to scream. “Why are you doing this?” He asked, tears streaming down his face as he stood by the door helplessly.

“I can’t keep doing this, Yoongi. I’m done,” she replied, continuing to pack her bags.

“We can fix this, please.” “No we can’t! Open your eyes Yoongi, there’s no fixing this anymore.”

He felt his heart shatter with each passing second as he stood there watching her. He moved towards her, grabbing her and pulling her in an embrace. He felt her stiffen at the contact but he refused to let go, heart racing.

“Please…” he whimpered.

She sighed, melting into his embrace after a while, wrapping her hands around him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what came over me.”

“It’s fine… just, don’t do that again.”

“I promise.”

For some reason, he couldn’t feel at ease even after that.

Yoongi slammed his hand down on the table, his breathing erratic. He grabbed his jacket and phone before walking out of his studio, where he saw the other boys standing about. He knew they were here for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.

“Where are you going, hyung?” asked the maknae cautiously.

“For a walk, I need to clear my head.” Yoongi replied, brushing past his concerned members and out of the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~

'Cause I need to know

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with, baby

Who are you?

'Cause something has changed, you're not the same, I hate it

He rushed down the sidewalk, no destination in mind. His head was down, hood of his jacket up and his hands shoved inside his pockets.

He slowed down after some time, legs tired from walking for so long. Looking around to inspect his surroundings, Yoongi realised he had walked to the park near her house. The same park where they had their first date, the park where they came to look for peace when it all became too much. It held such precious memories, before when he looked back on those, his heart would swell with affection, body warm from happiness. But now, it did nothing except hurt him more. His heart ached as he relived the sweet memories that would always turn bitter.

“Look at those kids! They’re so cute!” She gushed, leaning against Yoongi, hands intertwined in her lap.

Yoongi chuckled as he watched the children run past them, laughter filling the air as they played around.

“I wonder how our children are gonna look? Well, then again, with parents like us they’re bound to be amazing!”

Yoongi hummed, playing with her fingers, heart picking up its pace at the thought of their possible future.

Yoongi sat on the bench overlooking the park. His eyes scanned the area, thinking about all the memories he had created here. His mind drifted off to the last time he’d been here, his heart constricting in pain.

He was waiting at the gate of the park, looking for her with flowers in her hand. His gummy smile impossible to hide, heart thrumming happily; it was their anniversary after all! He swayed back and forth, excitement barely kept under control when he thought about all the plans he’d made for them to enjoy the day.

15 minutes passed with still no sign of her. Yoongi checked his clock one more time before he called her again. Her phone rang a few times before it sent him to her voicemail yet again.

Feeling disappointment slowly take over his heart, he deflated a little.

Had she forgotten? She couldn’t have, right? Perhaps she’s stuck at work, thought Yoongi to himself. He shook his head before deciding to enter the park. Taking a walk might help, and who knows? Maybe she’ll arrive in that time too! He tried convincing himself, not wanting to lose hope just yet.

He walked by the little ice cream stand they had in the park when he thought he saw someone familiar stand near it. He squinted at the figure, their back was turned towards him. He shrugged and was about to walk away, to continue his walk through the park when the person turned around.

Yoongi’s eyes widened in shock when he saw his lover standing there, laughing with another man. He felt his heart turn to dust when he saw her lean up to kiss him.

“S-sweetheart?” Yoongi stuttered out loud, at which her head whipped around to face him, her expression akin to a deer caught in headlights, mouth falling open.

“Y-yoongi, I can explain.”

Yoongi shook his head, eyes filled with unshed tears. He dropped the flowers and ran away, paying no mind to her calls.

Yoongi leaned back on the bench, lips lifted into a bitter smile. One of his hands ran through his hair, ruffling it as he said out loud, “Should’ve realised before. Why did I ever believe you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, I'm sick of waiting for love, love

Oh, I know that you're not the one, one

Feeling hypnotized by the words that you said

Don't lie to me, just get in my head

When the morning comes, you're still in my bed

But it's so, so cold

It had been days since the incident at the park and Yoongi was a mess. He had kicked her out of his house the next day, but he couldn’t keep her out of his mind.

His friends told him to move on, that she wasn’t good for him, but he couldn’t. He needed answers.

He had finally gathered up enough courage to face her again, finally answering her calls, and calling her over. He told himself he wouldn’t let himself be swayed by her, that he was only doing this to get answers, nothing more.

But there he was now, laying awake beside her, staring off into space, mind once again in chaos. This wasn’t how he wanted the night to unravel, but her sweet words lured him in, hypnotized him. He was weak when it came to her, it didn’t surprise either of them that he had given in so easily.

Her sweet lies got into his head, making his mind fuzzy, heart beating fast as if this was the first time they had been together. But now that it was over, his mind was overthinking everything. It felt cold, his heart heavy with emotions he didn’t want to deal with.

He wanted to let go and savour this night, wanted to forget how his heart ached at the mere sight of her. But he felt so, so cold, so filthy and used. No matter how much he tried to suppress those feelings, he couldn’t, so he laid there, regretting everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with

Who are you?

'Cause you're not the girl I fell in love with, baby

Who are you? (Who are you?)

'Cause something has changed, you're not the same, I hate it

Oh, I'm sick of waiting for love, love

Oh, I know that you're not the one, one

Yoongi sat there, his mind running a thousand miles per second. He had his eyes closed and head leaned back, trying to keep the tears at bay.

His thoughts came to a halt when he felt someone situate themselves beside him. He cracked one eye open to look at who it was.

His heart clenched again, this time from guilt, when he saw it was his dearest maknae that had come to him.

“Did you follow me here, Jungkook-ah?”

“I was worried… I didn’t want you to do something rash,” came a timid reply from the man beside him.

Yoongi chuckled, sitting up straight. “I’m not going to do anything rash, Jungkook. Don’t worry.”

“I’m still worried though, I miss you. You haven’t spent any time with us, with me, for such a long time now. You know we’re all here for you. It might hurt but keeping it all in won’t make it better, so let us help you, hyung. Let us be there for you,” Yoongi heard Jungkook say, concern pouring from each of his words.

Yoongi hummed, processing Jungkook’s words for a while.

“You’re right.”

“I… am?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi started, looking at Jungkook, “I shouldn’t have pushed you all away. I’m sorry for being so distant.”

“..Will you come back to the dorms then? It feels so empty without you.”

Yoongi stared at Jungkook, heart feeling a tad lighter than before. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

Jungkook looked at Yoongi, his doe eyes sparkling. “Do you feel any better? Do you want to go get food with me? I’ll pay!”

“Not really, it still hurts, but your little speech there made me realise I don’t have to do this alone. I have you guys and I’m sure that with you all by my side I’ll feel like the old me soon enough,” Yoongi said, ruffling Junkook’s hair - Jungkook whining at him for ruining his hair -, giving him a small smile. Jungkook beamed back, happy with the answer he’d received.

“Let’s go get lamb skewers, my treat, for ignoring you for this long,” Yoongi said, standing up from the bench. Jungkook exclaimed happily and started walking towards the park exit, smiling brightly.

Yoongi was about to follow when he felt his phone buzz again. Taking it out to check, he realised it was another text from her, but this time rather than ignoring it, he opened the text thread.

He quickly typed one last message to her before blocking the contact and following Jungkook out of the park. His first step towards healing and he couldn’t help but feel proud.

‘You’ve changed, you’re not the one for me anymore. Stop trying to contact me, Y/N. We’re over for good.’

#bts x reader #angst #bts angst #bts #bts yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi #suga #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #myg #myg angst #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic

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spectrumed · 3 years

Text

5. sleep

It hardly gets dark in the Swedish summers. Between dusk to dawn, you’ve got about an hour to fall asleep before the sun rises again. If you struggle to fall asleep that fast, you can invest in some good window blinds. Or you can do as I do and place one big pillow over your face. Then the birds start singing around three o’clock in the morning. You can practically hear the sounds of Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood playing at around four o’clock in the morning. Around five o’clock in the morning, it is as bright as midday. Did you have a good time sleeping? Or did you pace around in a circle having one hell of a panic attack? I thought you took some of those sleeping pills you got prescribed, they should have helped you fall asleep… wait, you did take them? They didn’t work? Oh, they did work, you just felt your body falling asleep while your mind stayed awake? That sounds terrible, real terrible. Very well. It’s morning now. Want some coffee?

You could form a religion out of sleeping. Let’s have sermons where we fill a whole auditorium full of beds and have our congregates take a big collective nap. Sleep for the sleep god! Pillows for the pillow throne! Sleep is a billion-dollar industry, there’s a plethora of handy products you can buy that promise to send you on a luxury liner to dreamland. Pills, mattresses, dreamcatchers, whatever your snoozy heart desires. You can go to a proper doctor and they might help you, or you can settle for the placebo effect and go to some fraudulent quack, instead. He might make you swallow some pills that contain arsenic, but hey, arsenic is a naturally occurring element. It can’t be all that bad for you if it is natural. And you do want to sleep, don’t you? If you take this pill in your mouth and swallow it with a glass of water, I promise you, you will sleep for a very long time.

The esteemed former president of the United States of America, Donald Trump, claims that he only needs four to five hours of sleep every night. While Mr. Trump is well-known to be a paragon of honesty, I do doubt he’s telling the truth. No, I actually do believe him when says that he only gets about four or five hours of sleep each night, I just don’t believe him when he says that is all he needs. He doesn’t look very well-rested, does he? And Margaret Thatcher, the similarly adored former prime minister of the United Kingdom, claimed that she also only needed about four hours of sleep every night. Yes, while researching the sleeping habits of famous monsters, I’ve come to the conclusion that amongst powerful individuals, not getting enough sleep has become a proper badge of honour. The belief is that if you don’t get enough sleep, that must be because you are living such a vibrantly successful life, and are so career-driven, that you simply haven’t got enough time to sleep for the full eight hours. People who sleep for more than four hours are lazy liberals. Go-getters like Trump has got to be out there, working, making decisions, raping women, and showing daddy what a good boy he is. Sleep is for the weak. But maybe I am weak. I sure like sleeping.

It’s the cultural hangover our society has had since the 80’s. Back when the yuppies wearing jackets with obscenely padded shoulders would happily chuck down eight to ten espressos in one go while A Flock of Seagulls was playing on the radio encouraging everyone to go running. And to be fair to them, with the constant fear of the doomsday clock hitting midnight, they really had no reason to think that they’d survive the decade. The new millennia, it seemed, would have no cities, no nature, no humans, only radiated mutants scouring the rubble that remains of civilization for cans of preserved something edible. Self-destructive behaviour was in. It was fashionable. Doubt people got enough sleep back then, between snorting coke and wondering if the next pandemic that hits the night clubs would start killing as many straight folks as gay folks. Well, here we are in the new 20’s, and we’ve got a pandemic that does appear to kill people regardless of sexual orientation. Sure, the looming threat of nuclear obliteration has been lessened dramatically, but we’ve largely come to exchange that anxiety for the fear of total environmental collapse, instead. No wonder 80’s nostalgia is a big thing right now. History doesn't repeat itself, but It often rhymes, said Mark Twain (supposedly.) I wonder how much coke Mark Twain would snort if he lived in the 80’s.

I notice a palpable difference in my mood and mental state when I’ve been getting good amounts of sleep. Lack of sleep results in lack of clear thinking. Caffeine, though it is something I am chronically addicted to, does not help fix a sleep-deprived mind. There are no tricks of revolutionary “life hacks” one can employ to get out of sleeping. To recover from depression, one has to sleep. Sleep often and sleep well. I cannot understate the importance of being well-rested. You cannot process information if you are tired. I am reminded of my teenage years seeing friends of mine who’d stay up all night, then come into school shuffling like agonised zombies. They got so frustrated when the teachers reprimanded them for snoozing in class. Well, dummies, it is your fault for drinking several dozen cans of Red Bull every day! I know that sleep does not always come easy. I know the terror of insomnia. But, c’mon! At some point, you’ve got to realise that sleep is essential. Maybe most of your problems stem from the fact that you refuse to get enough of it? Here’s where the tough love comes in. If you wanna get better, kiddo, then listen to me. It’s bedtime. Yes, I know you’d rather stay up late playing monopoly with your friends, but I’m confiscating your dice and I’ll only give it back to you when you’ve gotten some good sleep. Okay? You hear me, missy? You listen to your daddy now, and go to bed. No ifs or buts about it, princess, I’ve made myself clear. I know what is best for you, and you know that I am right. I’m your daddy.

But what if I can’t seem to fall asleep? Normally, it takes a long time for me to fall asleep. It is not uncommon for me to stay awake for two hours, maybe more, before I finally begin to sleep. Fearing that I won’t fall asleep gives me anxiety. That anxiety keeps me awake. I turn my body. I try lying on my side. First my left side, then my right side. I then try to lie on my back. I’ve got a song stuck playing in my head. Not even the whole song, just a ten-second segment of it. It’s playing over and over. I’m worried about the future, will I ever find security, will I ever find a wife, will I get to grow old? I worry about death. I keep hearing the music playing, it’s grating. I rearrange the pillows, in hopes that will make me feel more comfortable. But no, I keep tossing and turning like a fish caught on land. I’m getting frustrated. If only I could shut off my brain. I’m constantly thinking. I turn to my side again, but now I notice I’ve moved arounds so much that now the bed has shifted away from its position next to the wall. There’s now a gap between the bed and the wall. I almost fall down that gap. I get up and I push the bed back against the wall. I lay down in bed. The song is still playing.

How am I ever going to become a successful businessman if I am wasting so many hours just trying to get to sleep? This is the time I should be spending on the phone, yelling at people and making inappropriate sexual comments to my female employees. That is what good executives do. I need to get my life in order. I need to exercise more. I should practice mindfulness. I should get a life coach, a personal trainer, a stylist, an accountant, an assistant, a trophy wife, and a mistress. I need people in my life to take care of me. It’s funny how rich people create the sort of environment around them where people will take care of all their needs, effectively infantilising them. These people don’t even get to decide how to dress themselves. They’ve got fancy apartments, but they don’t choose any of the furniture. They’ve got art on the walls that they don’t like, but the art looks expensive, and that is all that matters. They’ve got kids, but they don’t raise them. Their spouses are cheating on them, but in fairness, they are cheating on their spouses. They don’t really even know what their jobs entails, as they’ve gotten promoted so many times that they’ve ended up in a position that is totally outside their realm of expertise. But they’re so powerful that no-one is able to fire them over their pretty blatant incompetence. They’re successful. They’ve made it. But they still can’t sleep at night. They only manage to successfully fall asleep at night after swallowing a fistful of pills along with a swig of vodka.

It must be easy being a self-help guru. Well, what I mean to say is that all you really need is charisma, which is something you need to be born with. But you don’t need to do any actual studying, any real research, or any kind of soul-searching or deliberation. All you need is to state what is obvious. You go on stage in front of an anxious audience, mostly composed of middle-class salesmen and miscellaneous white collar ghosts. You smile, show off your eerily bright teeth, and they clap. You tell them to go take care of themselves, to eat more healthily, to take walks, or go swimming, and love their partners. You tell them to drink less, or maybe, if they feel like it, they could drink more. I am sure you could spin alcohol as a positive or a negative, depending on what crowd you’re talking to. Tell them to appreciate family. Tell them to appreciate others. Live, laugh, but most of all, love. Tell them to go clean their rooms. Tell them to remember that if they’re on an airplane that is about to crash land, they need to put their own oxygen mask on before they can help others put theirs on. If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else? Now, go to bed!

You know all this stuff. Me telling you that you should sleep more doesn’t really help you. You know that you should sleep more. It’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that. And it’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that it is better to drink in moderation, and that you should smoke less weed. There are many small little things you can do to improve your life, to stop being a terminally unemployed slacker. It’s like your grandpa who tells you stories about life after the war when you could walk into the biggest building in town, slam your fist against the table and demand to be given a job and a house and a wife and a couple of kids, and that was all you needed to do. He can’t comprehend the fact that society doesn’t work like that, any more. Most people my generation have given up hope of ever owning a home, at least if they happen to live in the vicinity of a larger city. It seems that, no matter where you live, the cost of homes has risen to an impenetrable degree. It seems just as likely that you will be able to afford your very own genetically-engineered pet dragon before you will get to be a house-owner. It’s the fault of those damn boomers, why bother changing your ways, when the boomers are still in charge? Others may accuse you of wallowing in your own depression, but you are perfectly aware that this is exactly what you are doing. You are self-aware. But self-awareness on its own is not enough to motivate anyone. You still can’t see the point in doing anything constructive with your life. Life just feels so aimless. It’s easier to sit, smoke weed, and watch cartoons.

Pop psychology is problematic. To say the least. Take all those self-help gurus suffering from their messiah complexes and put them through the shredder. Don’t buy books thinking that they’ll offer you the kind of treatment you would get from an actual psychiatrist. I know that, depending on where you are in the world, treatment can get very expensive, but you’re not going to get better reading the book of some self-aggrandising narcissist’s collection of wishy-washy platitudes. Dr. Phil has done great evil pretending to be a therapist on the TV, and Jordan Peterson (despite having once been an esteemed scholar) has turned a generation of young internet-savvy zoomers into proto-fascists obsessed with the monogamy of lobsters. Pop psychology has become a guise for cult leaders to reap new followers. Getting treatment should not feel like joining a new religious movement. Maybe I’m just one of those annoying atheists, but I dare say, psychiatry works at its best when it's secular. You should not look at your psychiatrist as a prophet speaking to God. They’re just a doctor, and you need treatment.

I do not aspire to create a self-help blog. I do not promise that reading this blog will help you in any way. I would be overjoyed if someone came up to me and told me that I had inspired them to seek help. You may tell me that reading my words have made you feel less alone, knowing that others have gone through all these things that you are going through. When I felt at my worst, I remember reading the memoirs of people I admired who had similarly struggled in their lives, and I felt less alone. But none of those books pretended to exist principally to help others. Those books did help me, through the candid descriptions of struggles that I thought I was alone in experiencing. Knowing that some people had pulled through, managed to find a light at the end of the tunnel, it made me think I could one day be like them. The books didn’t seek to fix me, but they offered me a perspective that came to be very valuable later on, when I started going to therapy, and when I later started taking medication. Sometimes that is all you need. Not someone standing over you and telling you to go to bed, or to clean your room, or to stop drinking. You know all that, already. What you really need is the reassurance that things can indeed get better. Sleep will come.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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memesrruinedsoirant · 3 years

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His Dark Materials Book 3 (The Amber Spyglass) GIGANTIC plot holes

Ok WTF the heartbreaking canonical realization of Lyra and Will having to separate is full of shit. So WHY did I have to suffer so much as a 10-year-kid and just now again after rereading it?

1.) First of all, Xaphania warns Will that open windows cause Dust to leak out, this leaking being deadly for consciousness and sentient life in the universe. But ONE window can be left open, because that Dust can be renewed by sentient life being active, kind, curious, busy, and humanly conscious. Lyra and Will choose to leave the window in the underworld open, and sadly decide to not leave one open for their own use.

HOWEVER, we know that there are infinite universes in existence, which means the production of Dust is ALSO literally infinite, with production levels also increasing and decreasing depending on the sentient beings’ actions and curiousity. I SUPPOSE if the speed of the leaking of only TWO windows (the underworld window + Lyra and Will’s window) is higher than the speed at which Dust from INFINITE universes is generated, this would lead to a perpetual leaking that would continue for a long time. This does appear to be a big problem, but please note the mathematical discrepancies that are required for this disaster to happen. The two windows would have to leak infinite amounts of Dust at a higher speed than that of the entire infinite multiverse (literally billions of universes each with trillions of intelligent beings) generating infinite Dust. You’d think Angels would know this and advise them accordingly, right? If they know but they don’t tell them, that’s just mean and doesn’t add up with their motivations. But if you assume that they don’t know, that’s messed up because then the continuity’s messed up. Angels supposedly know everything because they ARE everything (matter loves matter, remember?) This entire part of the book does not make sense. The only way this part works is if the existence of just one more window is THAT detrimental of an increase to Dust leakage ACROSS the multiverse. This part of my reasoning is mathematical, yes, but the math doesn’t seem to add up in this series which otherwise conveniently relies on reasonably accurate and focused scientific reasoning like different timelines and universes sprouting out of different events that go in multiple directions. But FINE. If you say that the ONLY TWO windows in existence leak THAT much THAT fast, so much so that the multiverse’s TOTAL Dust levels decrease even WITH infinite production that only needs to be encouraged by propagating creativity and free will, I will accept this point begrudgingly. I know, it’s nonsensical. Hence the grudge. Moving on.

2.) Xaphania actually DOES cede to the point that if a window is open for only a short amount of time, there is not enough opportunity for a considerable or harmful amount of leakage to occur. 30 seconds in and out for a window so Lyra and Will can switch between worlds every six months, right? The problem here is that with every new window cut open by the Subtle Knife, a new specter is drawn from the Abyss. Okay, big problem. I understand.

BUT then Xaphania casually says ‘Go on back to your own worlds. Cut a new window, no problem. Yes, this will create a new specter. We’ll take care of the specters.’ EXCUSE ME? YOU CAN TAKE CARE OF SPECTERS? THEN WHY NOT ALLOW WILL AND LYRA TO LIVE TOGETHER AND SWITCH BETWEEN WORLDS EVERY SIX MONTHS WITH A NEW PORTAL? The Dust leaking in 30 seconds of a window being open is insignificant, by Xaphania’s own admission. And if the angels CAN deal with specters, then why not allow the two to live together and the angels deal with only ONE new specter every six months? Seriously, the way Xaphania talks about the Specters seems like she’s describing cockroaches and she’s the baddest exterminator in the tri-state area. So would it really be an issue if these 2 adorable babies opened up a window every few months to live long fulfilling lives with each other while switching between their worlds to prevent health problems? Even if a Specter went away to another distant world, angels CAN move about between worlds with ease. Will can even tempt these angels with prostitutes (this blog def supports sex workers) and snacks (read next paragraph for elaboration on the Angels’ weaknesses and temptations) Anyway, I call bullshit on this reasoning.

I am EVEN MORE angry when thinking about the fact that Will HIMSELF can kill Specters. He literally DID it during the big battle between Asriel and Metatron’s forces. If his opening a new window creates a new Specter with EACH new window, surely he can kill EACH new Specter? They seem to be shit-scared of his knife anyway, and for GOOD REASON. He could just call a few angels to hold em in place and stab stab boom done that’s that. And do NOT tell me that Angels won’t do it there are literally ‘uncounted billions’ of them and they do seem to like things such as food and the ‘touch of flesh’. Will could just give them access to a few strip clubs or get them Nando’s every now and then for this simple service. WILL COME ON THINK YOU HAVE ANGELS AND A BADASS KNIFE WHY ARE YOU CONCERNED ABOUT SPECTERS??? OPEN A NEW PORTAL WHENEVER YOU NEED AND JUST GET IT OVER WITH QUICKLY TO AVOID LEAKAGE AND REMEMBER TO KILL THE PESKY SPECTER.

Anyway, the heartbreaking farewell at the end of The Amber Spyglass is absolutely unnecessary as my mini-dissertation details. Yes, admittedly this is a children’s book, but the writer DID himself graduate from Oxford and so I do expect him to see this gaping hole in his uber-complex plotline that he himself created. I can only assume that the ending broke thousands of hearts like it did mine twice, when it does not need to at all. It’s even more frustrating when the other parts of the series are really quite well-written. At least for the most part, anyway.

This particular snag could have been avoided ridiculously easily, even if it had taken another whole book. Anyway, from now on my mental version of the canon consists of Lyra and Will both having this realization soon after saying goodbye, and Will a) either goes back right away, b)fixes his Knife if he’s too sad and slow to realize this before breaking it (both follow point 2′s reasoning), or c) convinces an Angel with ANY sense the ridiculousness of their ‘dilemma’ and thereby keeps another window open between his world and Lyra’s (point 1). Or maybe they both realize this before taking any brash steps at all. I mean, they’re both smart af so this is hardly a big leap for either of them. Ok rant done I’m adding tags now I might be embarassed now coz this IS a children’s book and I’m pretty late to the rereading party and I was too young to see this hole when I was nine anyway. Maybe others saw this before me.

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

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Small Time Witch (26)

“I was a broken man after the attack on New York. I...I...I was tortured by Thanos. After my capture I was weak and physically broken. It took months for the healers to tend to me. A full year before I was thrown in the dungeon.”

“You looked ok on the news.”

Loki chuckled, “Appearances are everything, my darling. Had my mother not been there I would have died. Should have.”

“Lok, don’t say that. Had you died you would have never met me. I’m clearly the highlight of your life.”

“Of course you are. I’m sure, had you been there, you would have pestered me into surviving. You are relentless. And I love you for it.”

*******************************************

You woke up much too warm and your back was drenched. You peeled yourself off of Loki trying to wake him. His head fell back onto the pillow. He was unresponsive. You panicked and shook him. Nothing. You pressed your ear to his heart and heard it beating fast.

After your initial freak out you remembered you were a witch and could freeze him. Idiot. You ran your cold hands over his head neck and under his arms trying to lower his body temperature. His body cooled and sweat dried. When his eyes cracked open you conjured a glass of water and sat him up to drink. It was hours before you heard anyone move about. Josefine knocked on your door to let you know it was time to pay up.

“He needs a healer.” you said without any other sort of greeting. She glanced over your shoulder and nodded.

“I’ll send for someone.”

Njord, an imposing sort of fellow was the, king’s personal healer. He burst into the room. Your hands were still splayed over Loki’s chest attempting to keep his core temperature down.

Josefine rested her hand on your shoulder, “Let him work, witch.” There was no discernible tone behind her voice. She said witch as easily as she could have said your name.

“How long has he been this way?” Njord’s voice boomed.

“I’m not sure. He was burning with fever when I woke up this morning. So sometime overnight.”

He grumbled his way through the exam. You were nearly crawling out of your skin you were so worried. With a final “hmph” Njord seemed to have reached a satisfactory diagnosis.

“His life force feels like it’s been skinned alive. It will take some time to recover and this is no place to do it. I’ll send transportation. The prince will be moved to the palace. I will see to his care personally. Witch, I will not alert Odin or Prince Thor as to his whereabouts. I do, however, believe a mother should not have to worry herself sick about her son. I will send for her.”

When you arrived at the palace Frigga was already waiting. You were still cooling him as the healers brought him in. Njord bowed to the Queen and then gave you a curt nod. They lay him down on the bed and started packing cold rags around his body.

“Thank you, dear. We can take it from here.” She dismissed you like a common nurse maid. Had she even looked at you she would clearly see you were still in your t-shirt and tac pants. When you didn’t move she lifted her head and her eyes grew wide.

“Your majesty. This is Y/N of Midgard. She has been caring for the prince. She is his prisoner” Njord explained.

When Frigga looked at you her face was a mask of horror. She looked you up and down scrutinizing you at a loss for words.

“Not exactly his prisoner so much as I helped him escape.” You knotted your fingers together and kept your eyes on the floor.

Loki groaned in pain and you were both at his side in a heartbeat. You pushed his hair off his forehead. His fever was spiking. You tried to cool him down but he fought against your magic. “Shhh, Lok. I’ve got you” you whispered in his ear. He settled down and leaned into your touch. “Better?” He nodded against your hand. His eyes fluttered open. He smiled at you drunk on whatever medication that gave him.

“You really do love me.” His words slurred and blurred together. You giggled and kissed his temple. He wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or not but he loved the sound of your giggling. It was the first time he heard it and it was like little tinkling bells in his ear. “It’s nice to be loved.”

“It is. Get some rest.”

“You won’t leave me?”

“Not for a single second.”

He beamed at you while he drifted in and out of sleep. “I’ll bet you’re a good wife to me. You certainly are my type.”

“Lok, that’s not exactly high praise considering your type is pulse optional.”

He laughed and that turned into a groaning cough. “Norns you know me well.”

Your cheeks were burning. Frigga cleared her throat, “I’m sorry what?”

“Oh. Hello mother. This is Y/N. She is to be my wife.”

“Son, that is the fever taking. Try to get some rest.”

“No. He’s telling the truth. I’m his wife. Or was. Or will be. More accurately his widow at the moment. Time travel!” You threw up your free hand and shrugged.

She nervously laughed and took your hands, “Well then, dear, welcome to the family.”

You plopped down in a chair beside the bed and started to doze off. You heard Frigga talking to Loki and Njord but you didn’t comprehend what they were saying.

Loki ran a weak finger up and down your cheek. “Y/N, you look and smell awful. Someone will show you to a bath and a proper bed. Maybe get you something to eat.”

“Mhmm” was all you could say. You followed behind a very tall very blonde young woman who spoke gently to you. The hot water felt amazing. You allowed every muscle to relax. At one point the blonde came back in to set down some Vanaheim appropriate attire and lunch. You could get used to this.

You wished you had any one of your friends here to help you plan. Though, at this point, you are more plotting and scheming. You had to have something to offer Vanaheim to let Loki remain in their care. You also had to convince Thor and Odin that Loki shouldn’t be thrown in a dungeon. If there was ever a time to be charming, it was now.

You dressed and finished lunch then went back to Loki’s room. Frigga was waiting for you in the sitting room just outside the bedroom door.

“Do I bow? I’m not sure what the protocol is. We don’t exactly have a royal family where I live.”

“You’re family. We hug.” When she went to embrace you she placed her hand on your forehead. She had the same gift as Loki. You thought for a moment that she might be offended watching the things you’ve done with her son. Maybe she will skip those parts.

“I don’t peek at intimate moments” she said as if she read your mind. She saw everything else. Your happiness. Your squabbles. Your deep and abiding love for each other. Most important was your grief. She saw the night he died how you screamed and how you collapsed into Steve’s arms when his soul was unbound. She removed her trembling hand and pulled you in for a real hug. She wept quietly on your shoulder. You cried too having relived all of those memories in rapid fire.

“He’s right. You are a good wife to him. That is truly all a mother could ever want for her children. Their happiness. And you gave that to him in abundance. And to have a daughter with such power! The Norns have truly blessed us.”

“I have to meet with a seer. I need to know what my next move should be.”

“I will see to it personally. Why don’t you go rest for a while?”

Before heading back to your room you checked in on Loki once more. He was sleeping peacefully. You kissed his forehead and he sighed in appreciation.

After a much needed rest, as promised, Frigga brought in a seer. Not just any prophet but the special prophet to the king himself.

You dispensed with the pleasantries and she got down to business. She held your hands and closed her eyes. Many possibilities flew into view. You imagined she was a lot like the Time Keepers.

“You’re a conduit.” she said with a surprised smile. You nodded. “I’m not sure you know how powerful you are, my dear.”

“Loki said the same thing the first day he met me.”

“Well he was right. You have an opportunity here. An out with Odin and an in with the king. If you pledge that you will learn with the Vanir, I believe the small council will agree to care for you and the prince until he is well. As for Odin, well, when he knows what you can do he will have no choice.”

“I am no more powerful that Loki or Frigga.”

“Oh but you are. Y/N, you are strong enough to harness the powers of the infinity stones. Possess two and you are unstoppable. But all six....you can rule the Nine.”

“How would I even do that without creating branches in the timeline? The Ancient One warned us.”

“You and Loki have already created a pretty big one haven’t you? You can fix everything. Defeat Thanos before he invades Earth and you can right every wrong.”

You let her words seduce you. You would be a hero and your friends would never have to know Thanos’ name. The grief and guilt will never plague Thor. Bucky will never be lost and Steve would carry on with his life. But what would you be sacrificing if you went through with this plan? This is not a ripple in the timeline it’s a tidal wave.

“What’s the catch?”

She smiled, “Smart girl. You’ll save everyone but whatever lives changed because of the snap won’t happen because the snap won’t happen. Can you live with that?”

The resounding answer was yes. It was a sacrifice for you to be sure. Your friends will never know you. They won’t know what they were missing. “I’ll do it.”

She smiled and shook your hand then left to inform the small council. You debated on whether or not you should tell Loki. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t. The tasseract was his prize. The power that drove him mad and made him do his worst. Odin had hidden it away but the cube and Loki seemed to be drawn to one another. Becoming one with the cube would draw him to you more. Hard to be sure now if he would actually fall in love with you or with whatever you would become. You had to tell him.

The small council and the king called you in and decided that Loki could stay. You made them promise that, even if Loki refused you, they would let him stay anyway. They agreed under the condition that you would work for them no matter what. You had very little choice. You just wanted him safe even if it meant that he wasn’t with you. You would leave for Asgard first thing to meet with Odin.

You asked to have dinner alone with Loki so you could discuss your plans. He sat in his bed with a tray over his lap. You were in the chair off to the side with your feet resting on the bed.

The mood in the room was comfortable. Civil. He would only occasionally ask you a question which you only answered with one word sentences and nods. “How’s the wine?”

“Good”

“Are your accommodations acceptable?”

“Yep”

You’d try to talk but stop yourself. You feel like you are about to burst. You push your food around taking small bites. Your stomach clenched uncomfortably. Another swallow of wine to give you courage. One more gulp to shut your mouth. Drain the glass to distract yourself. You were so far into your head that you didn’t notice him asking another question.

“Mortal, did you hear me?” He knocked your foot off the bed. Thankfully your glass was empty because it tumbled out of your hand and rolled on to the bed. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“You aren’t your chatty self. Have I scared you off already?”

You didn’t dignify that with an answer. You felt the words bubbling in your throat like vomit. You closed your eyes and let them flow out of you as fast as possible.

“I’m leaving for a few days to visit Asgard. I’m going to negotiate your release to the king of Vanaheim in exchange for my services.”

He quirked and eyebrow, “Which are?”

“I’m a conduit. A powerful one. I can absorb the stones and stop Thanos before he destroys Asgard, Xandar, Earth and every other planet he obliterated searching for him. I can beat him, Loki.”

“I didn’t think it possible but you are more insane than I am. You can’t beat Thanos. He’s a titan.”

You scoffed and waived him off, “Titan is just a fancy name for older god. Even if I take in two infinity stones I’m unstoppable.”

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was quiet. He tried to convey indifference but came off sullen and hurt instead.

“I don’t ever want my friends and family to be hurt by this lunatic. And I know...I know I will be changing everything but I’ve already changed everything by rescuing you.”

He was up from the bed pacing just like you now. “There will always be something! If it isn’t Thanos it’s some other thing threatening the universe. It’s how the universe keeps going. Do you intend on killing everything that decides to rise up?!”

“No. He crushed entire civilizations. He is a plague. He....” Your voice faltered and tears spilled hot over your cheeks. “He tortured you and choked the life out of you. He took everything from us. He needs to be eliminated.”

All you wanted was for Loki to wrap his arms around you. He was across the room staring wildly trying to hold back tears. You were consumed by your need for revenge and that was a sure fire way to lose. You needed higher purpose something other than him. If your motives weren’t true Thanos was sure to crush your skull and turn you to dust.

What you were proposing was dangerous and stupid and reckless. You so blindly took the advice of one seer. Who knows what her motives were? Who knows what you would become if you were successful?

Yes, Loki could fall in love with you. You were the woman he dreamt of his whole life. Powerful. Wickedly smart. You could keep up with his whims and threw back just as hard. You were boundlessly and relentlessly curious. You loved to learn. These were all things he cherished in you in the short time he’s known you. And, most important was that you loved him. It was deep and he couldn’t imagine how he even got you to love him. This very love that was so blinding to you would be the exact thing that would kill you. He had to divert you. To refocus your efforts.

“Lok, I’ve put so much at your feet these last few days. I’m going to give you your space to feel for yourself. We’ll talk when I get back ok?” You made your way to the door.

“And if I refuse your advances? What then?!”

You stopped in your tracks. You couldn’t imagine him refusing to even get to know you better. But, if that’s how he felt you wouldn’t push him.

“Then I have my answers and a one way ticket back home.” You flashed him a sweet smile that made his heart ache.

“What will you do?”

You laughed to yourself, “I guess I’ll mourn you properly and let you go. Maybe move on with my life. All the while I’ll wait for the sweet release of death. Not a bad way to exist I suppose. I love you. You know I do. You can feel it. Even if I have to wait...”

He scoffed, “Pathetic! You don’t love me. You love the idea of me. The neutered version of me. The man I became. I’m not that man. I will never be him. You’ve made that certain. You don’t love me. You love a ghost. I don’t love you. I don’t know you. I feel your love for your husband. Not me as I stand before you. Make your sacrifices. Hang yourself on that cross but don’t you dare invoke my name!”

He was shouting now loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. You held your ground but flinched as he got closer to you. His fists balled up and he pounded the wall next to your head. He was trying to scare you. You were undeterred.

“See you in a few days.”

You unceremoniously left the room without a second glance at him. You slept soundly that night and, as promised, Frigga met you to deliver you to the bifrost. You lifted the cloaking spell so that Heimdall could find you. She hugged you and wished you luck on your journey. In a flash of light you were gone.

When Loki woke up that morning he only felt his own feelings. He felt hollow and drained. He didn’t realize how much you were propping him up in order to heal. You must have been exhausted with how hard you worked to sustain him.

You fought with all of your body and soul to make him open his heart to you. If only you could see your efforts were futile. He was not worthy of redeeming. You had to move on from him. He couldn’t love you. He was too broken.

The thought of never seeing you again made his stomach clench uncomfortably and he wretched into a chamber pot. He crawled back into bed willing himself to disappear. No, today, Loki didn’t love you. He ruined everything he touched. He would ruin you too.

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #marvel witches #loki angst #loki of jotunheim #Loki #loki tv #loki fanfic #loki of asgard

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