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gummy-friend · 3 years

Note

23, 45, and 50 with piglin hybrid Techno and tiny avian hybrid Phil? ‘v‘ you don’t gotta do all or any of these! ALSO I WANNA SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR WRING SM ❤️💕💖💕❤️

Thank you so much, I'm happy you like my writings!!!! :DD

So sorry for the late answer, but know that I appreciate your ask so much

———

• "You're going to be okay, I promise"

• "Shhh, just sleep, you're safe"

• "No one is going to hurt you again"

Piglin hybrid Techno and Tiny avian hybrid Phil

Content warning: Calling a person as "It" and language

——————

A gunfire shot echoed.

"There it is!" A shout echoed, a man pointing towards high trees. A dark green shadow— No, not leaves— floating limpingly amongst the brown of the branches and trunks.

"Is there a net?!" another shout. Another man. Panting as they chase the tiny flying figure.

"The last net has been fired two shots ago!" the first one called out

"Fuck— It's a hybrid tiny, too" A huff, a big one. Two people in arms finally stopping, holding their knees in exhaustion. "Damn it, that'll sell so well"

They stopped.

But not the tiny, though.

The occasional sharp small branch sticking out, the leaves that's positioned unfortunately fit for a papercut, and the eventual large branch finally hitting the golden haired avian hybrid tiny in his head. The injuries came together, the no-longer-shiny black wings finally gave up, and the flying figure of a tiny avian hybrid fell down. Now stopping after the hunters has stopped.

ｏｏｏ

Being a piglin hybrid has its perks, Techno thinks. The piglin on the nether wouldn't go exactly after you unprovoked, you can still live in the cold (not advised, by the way, it sucks in the cold), and you can adapt to the overworld just fine— well, excluding the townspeople avoiding you, at least.

Of course, the good also comes with the bad. The piglin back at home absolutely despises you(because you look 'too human' or whatever), the nether temperature eventually became absolutely unbearable, and..

"Oooh, gold" The lingering feeling of attraction to gold. Except this time, it's not gold.

But a golden-haired tiny.

Listen, Techno's not heartless, there's no way he'll abandon another living being in help, no matter how awkward it may be— imagine waking up to a giant piglin hybrid, if that isn't awkward Techno doesn't know what it is (No, it's absolutely not fear, what do you mean) — So Techno took the tiny in.

After leaving the nether dimension, Techno tried living in a tundra biome. But it didn't work for him— he's not used to the cold— So he tried to live in the forest. It's a decent place, he figured out he can grow crops for a living— trading is also a steady source of income in the overworld. But getting back on the topic— Techno lives in a cabin in the woods, and is currently carrying a tiny home. It's a questionable situation, but hey, it's the thought that counts right? (or however the overworld saying goes)

Techno inspected the unconscious tiny— He's still breathing, fortunately. Techno doesn't know how to feel if he picked up a tiny corpse— Several cuts are visible on the tiny's skin. It doesn't look that bad— excluding the large cut on his side and the practically broken right wing— M-hm, not that bad.

Step one, Washing your hands before cleaning the injury. It's a fairly-large wound for someone so small, and fortunately, the wound has stopped bleeding, so Techno shouldn't worry about that.

Next step, applying antibiotic. Techno's certain he has a bottle of antibiotics— yeah, he has one— an almost brand-new bottle of antibiotics, he's glad he bought one yesterday.

As soon as the antibiotic made contact with the tiny's wounds, though, the tiny shot up with a hiss of "Fuck—!"

。。。

Phil woke up when Techno was washing his hands.

He had heard a stream of water and several footsteps— he thought he fell unconscious near a river. It doesn't matter, he can get up later, he's too hurt for getting up.

Until the stinging pain emerged from his side.

"Fuck-!" Phil cried out, moving away from the supposed source of pain

That fumkign hurts. Phil doesn't know what happened, it may be a bee— but bees doesn't attack unprovoked, then, what?

With each second passing Phil's head pounded even more, forcing him to focus and unfocus on his surroundings. A Wooden floor— Polished wooden floor, not the usual tree bark footing he occasionally sees— Unfamiliar surroundings— No trees or the usual greens he sees everyday, no, it's a human furniture surroundings.

As if his mind is saving the worst for last, Phil's vision finally focuses on the giant figure in front of him. The figure of a giant piglin hybrid.

Instantly, Philza's mind clicked. Human— no— hybrid furniture surroundings, him being unconscious, the stinging pain on his sides— Fuck— The piglin was going to eat him.

"Fuck no—" Phil breathed out, scooting backwards. Unfortunately, it's futile, as he quickly reached the edge of the wooden table. Phil looked at the drop, and fumk, it's a fucking high drop— his- his wings are broken

"Uh—" The piglin hybrid called out. Phil's head turned to look at him— head still pounding too hard to focus on the piglin hybrid's expression. "You're... you're hurt." The piglin hybrid gave Phil a sad excuse of an explanation. No shit, sherlock.

"S-so?" Phil glared, trying so hard to not fall off the table— or should he? Is one wing enough to shield his fall..?

"I'm... I'm trying to treat your wounds..?" the piglin hybrid said. Another look from Phil and he saw a white bottle of whatever— it's suspicious "Look, I found you unconscious on the forest floor, I'm just trying to heal you"

Phil is not listening to the guy, still scanning the things on the giant piglin hybrid's hands. A white suspicious bottle, a clump of cotton possibly doused in the suspicious bottle's content, and a wide, white, suspicious rope(..?) On the other end of the table.

"I'm not going to hurt you." the sudden voice from the piglin hybrid startles Phil. Maybe it's because of the reassuring tone of the man, suddenly, Phil's mind starts to focus more "You're going to be okay, I promise"

With that, the giant lowered the things in his hands. First, the suspicious white bottle. "Antibiotics" it reads.

"It's for cleaning your wound— it stings, that's why you woke up— but it's not a bad thing" The piglin hybrid explained, noticing Phil's confused expression (Antibiotics sounds fuckinh suspicious) "And to apply the antibiotics, I used the cotton" He lowered the cotton near the 'Antibiotics' bottle— but not too close to Phil. "see, I'm not trying to hurt you"

"...and that rope?" Phil questions. He's convinced about the antibiotics, but not the weirdly-shaped rope

"...rope?" The piglin hybrid blinked, confused.

"That!" Phil pointed at the weirdly-shaped rope "That weirdly-shaped rope!"

"You've... never seen a bandage before..?"

"...what?"

"That's- that's a bandage— it's for keeping the wound clean and preventing it from opening up again" He explained, a hint of amusement behind his confusion. Okay. "Are you satisfied now?"

Maybe it's because of embarassment, maybe it's because of finally feeling convinced, but Phil nodded to the human's word.

The consequence of agreeing fucking hurts— Fuck, it hurts.

The antibiotics really does fucking sting.

"Fuck!" another shout, and Techno— Phil had learned his name in the middle of the stinging pain (Saying Piglin hybrid man is too long and well, rude)— Techno finally finished applying the antibiotic.

"Done." Techno said, tone light like he never stung Phil. "You can rest there, I think I still have spare cloths for you to sleep on"

"Wait, sleep?" Phil spoke up, bewildered. Sure, he's exhausted after all of the things happening today, but that doesn't mean he want to sleep in a human— wait, no, Hybrid— but still, a Giant's house. That's a death flag right there.

"Ya" Techno said, Another light answer. "your body need to rest to have the energy to heal. Also, the bandage will need to be changed"

"Sleep here?"

"Ya" Techno's response is light. So light, no care for Phil's bewildered tone as he stuffed the tools he used to treat Phil back to wherever it belongs.

"And you're not going to hurt me?" Phil asked. No way. He's a fucking giant.

"That just sounds abyssmal— I've just healed you" Techno said, his tone still light as he rummages around his furnitures, looking for something.

"So then.. what are you going to do?" Phil asked, staring at Techno as he stacked several cloths together (what the fuck is he doing..?)

"Sleep, probably— I was actually going to trade new seeds since new season is coming up, but then you happened sooo" Techno trailed off, concentrating. "Done. Here— you can sleep here" Techno's figure moved away to reveal what Phil assumed was a bed— It's actually just several cloths stacked together— but it's nice.

"You made a bed for me?" Phil asked, looking at the bed Techno just made

"Yeah— do you need help getting here?" Techno gestures towards Phil's stature— small and has a broken wing

Phil looked at where Techno is gesturing. "..yeah"

"Should— Should I just.. pick you up at the back of your clothes or...?" Techno asked. He was expecting Phil to elaborate on how to pick a tiny up without being rude— but Phil's lack of elaboration speaks volume.

It ended up with Phil asking for Techno to give him his hand for platforming— Which after Techno quickly replied with a "sure", Phil became very anxious about standing on a giant's hand— Fortunately, Techno didn't try to hurt him or anything (Maybe it's Phil who scratched him— Bird claws as feet and all) and Phil reached the bed.

It's a fairly-nice bed, In Phil's opinion. Because it is practically just a ton of cloths stacked together, it became a very comfy bed. So when Phil rested his body on it, his exhaustion and thought caught up to him.

It's a first time for Phil. Being inside a giant's house, and.. being this near a giant. He's restless— he can't fucking sleep— he shouldn't sleep. The possibility of the giant hurting him, the possibility of another giant barging into this house and catching Phil... He's scared.

"Shhh, just sleep, you're safe" a sudden voice from Techno startled him. Was Techno there the whole time? More than that, did Techno realized Phil's worry? "I'm not going to hurt you— Like I said. You're going to be okay," Techno said, taking a seat beside the cabinet Phil's bed is placed.

What is it? Maybe it's because Techno sounds so.. reassuring, but Phil's heart solidified at Techno's word.

"No one is going to hurt you again" was the last thing Phil heard from Techno before Phil falling asleep.

Maybe it's trust that made Phil believe in Techno.

———

The dialogue prompts are from here, send in some prompts! :D

Masterlist (If you're interested in my writings! :D)

#mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #t!philza #g!techno #prompt ask #anon ask #Thank you so much!!! :DDD

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local-spoon-does-a-thing · 3 years

Text

Found (Part 2/2)

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader]

A/N: Woooo it’s finished! This part is going to mostly be about Optimus and Reader interacting. Hope you enjoy!

You can find the first part here!

Summary: You and Optimus Prime have a conversation under the starry night sky.

Soon enough, it was time to sleep and recharge. As the Autobots went into their alternate forms to recharge, your footsteps automatically led you to Bumblebee’s vehicle form as you had slept inside there for the past few years. Just as you opened the car door and sat down on the front seat, you were suddenly ejected out and had landed against the hard, rocky ground. You let out a small growl and turned around, only to witness Bee letting Cade, Tessa, and Shane entering inside. Oh, so they were allowed to sleep there but not you? Your eye twitched with annoyance but before you could call him out, Bee’s radio suddenly turned on.

“Turn around, bright eyes~” You knew the song all too well as it was the classic song, Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler.

You listened to the lyric that was played and whipped your head behind you. Optimus was in his truck form, his door open for you. Ohhh, right. You’ve forgotten that he was going to speak with you later. Seems like “later” was right now. Letting out a tired sigh, you were hesitating to walk to him. The nervousness drowned you once more like it had earlier. You still couldn’t figure out why you were nervous. Were you worried that you had lost your place in his spark? No, that was ridiculous. Why would he? It seemed like you were waiting for too long since Bumblebee turned on the radio once more and another old classic song played.

“Listen to your heart

When he’s calling for you.

Listen to your heart

There’s nothing else you can do.

I don’t know where you’re going

And I don’t know why,

But listen to your heart

Before you tell him goodbye.”

You looked back and glared at the sneaky little car, narrowing your eyes at him before walking to Optimus. As you got inside, a strong sense of nostalgia hit you like a truck. You remembered all the times that you would sleep, talk, and drive in here. Like the gentlebot he was, Optimus gently shut the door for you while you made yourself comfortable for one last time. Neither of you said a word. What were you supposed to say to someone you haven’t seen for a long while? A generic “hey” or “hello” was too lame and awkward. Damn it all, why did this have to be more complicated than it needed to be?

“[Y/N],” The old Bot spoke, “There are many things I wish to talk to you about, but it would take time, and unfortunately for us; time is the one thing we no longer have.” You remained silent, not knowing how to respond to that. Optimus was expecting something to be said from you but after a moment, he continued. “You are silent. That is unlike you. Is there nothing you would like to tell me?”

That was far from the truth. Like he wished to, you as well wanted to talk about many, many things. But you had a feeling that if you were to even try to get a word out, everything would just spill and flow out like a waterfall. Overwhelming emotions would just be thrown back and forth, incoherent words would spit out. You wouldn’t know how to deal with it and you doubted that Optimus would know.

“That...that’s not true. That’s not true and you know that.” You felt your throat start to clog up and tighten. Your eyes stung as tears threatened to fall. Damn it, now wasn’t the time to break down. It wasn’t your fault for feeling this way, you knew that. But if this was going to be your last time together with him, you didn’t spend the whole time crying your eyes out. The night could only go for so long and you hated it.

“I...I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say first. I’ve always dreamed and imagined what I would do if I ever get to see you again. I thought that I would be excited and we would just talk about what’s been happening and what changed. But now, I’m...nervous? Scared?” You sighed. This wasn’t going like how you wanted it to plan. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. But I do know that I don’t want to lose you again. The last 5 years were torture to me. We...we lost Sam to the damn corrupt organization. I was forced to leave my home since Bee and the others weren’t the only ones being hunted down. I missed you, Ratchet, ‘Hide, Sam- and I don’t even know if my parents are still alive! I don’t- I don’t understand! I can’t understand anything!”

By now, the tears were pouring out. Each word took your breath away and you began rambling about how everything had broken you. Your sharp inhales turned into shaky sobs. You buried your face into the palms of your hands as you just couldn’t stop crying. Your whole world was spinning and turning upside down and you couldn’t take it-

“[Y/N], stop. Breathe. You need to breathe.” His voice was finally heard. Optimus had tried calling out to your name multiple times, but you didn’t stop. You didn’t hear him. Once your rambling had discontinued, he took a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts before speaking again.

“I understand that you have gone through a lot, I truly do, and you are not the only one who has felt this way. There has not been a single day gone by where I do not worry about you. If I had only known that this would happen...I wouldn’t have run away. I would’ve done everything in my power to protect you.” He told you. His soothing voice managed to help you calm your breathing and you continued to listen to what he had to say. “When this is over, I can't promise that your life will be able to go back to normal. But I can promise that I do not plan on leaving you any time soon. And if for some reason that does happen, I will find my way back to you. No matter how long it takes.”

And you knew that whenever Optimus makes a promise, he never breaks it. Every word that he said held meaning in them. You lifted your head and looked at the radio. Your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, which you still had yet to stop, your face was slightly pink, and your hands were soaked from the tears. You haven’t even noticed that you’ve been repressing your emotions until the flood gates had opened. Goddamn, it felt good to get everything off of your chest. With your breathing being much more stable, you laid your forehead against the steering wheel and closed your eyes as more tears were shed.

“I missed you, Boss Bot.”

“And so have I, Tiny Girl.”

The two of you remained there in comfortable silence, along with your occasional sniffs from your stuffy nose. A couple of minutes have passed by and neither of you said anything. Instead, Optimus adjusted his side-view mirrors slightly upwards towards the sky. It was a clear night sky, no clouds to be seen. The stars have been revealed and they were as clear as daylight. Whenever you had your sleepless nights in the past, you would usually come to him and he would tell you about his home planet, Cybertron. He told you about his glorious moments during the war but made sure not to get too into detail. Perhaps, stargazing one more time shouldn’t hurt.

“I recommend looking out the window, [Y/N]. The stars are clearer than ever.” Optimus said as he rolled down the window.

You opened your eyes and as you looked and poked your head out of the open window. When you turned your head upwards, your eyes widened in astonishment. It had been too long since you looked at the stars since you were too busy trying not to get yourself killed. A graceful smile slowly formed onto your lips and your whole face lit up. At that moment, Optimus saw the bratty little teenager he knew and loved.

“Hey, Optimus? Um, is it ok if you change out of your alternate form? Just for a bit. I want to see you…” Your voice quieted down when your sentence started to drift away.

Optimus didn’t want to accidentally awake the others from their recharge, but the puppy dog eyes he received from you told him to do it. Without another word, he transformed back to his original form as you steadily held onto him, trying not to fall. He kept you sitting on the palm of his hand and looked behind him. Good, no one was awake. Or so he thought. Hound had been awake for most of the time, briefly listening to the conversation between you and the Autobot leader. From what Bumblebee had told him, he knew that you two were close. But actually witnessing the bond you two had from his own eyes; it gave him a warm feeling in his spark. Sure, he displays himself as a bickering wrecker, but he deeply cares for his comrades. And seeing you finally enjoying yourself and being happy made him happy. With peace in mind, he slowly fell into recharge, awaiting for the next day.

Optimus slowly walked away from the camp so he was able to get a bit more privacy with you. He perched you on top of his shoulder and you balanced yourself. As he walked further away, you looked up as the bright moonlight shines upon the two of you. It felt like you were back in your teen years and damn it felt good. Once you two were far enough, he slowly sat down on the dirt floor with a bit of a grunt. He was getting old but not old enough. The weight of everything that had happened, spanning from the war to being hunted down by humans, was starting to take a toll on his body. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve told him that he was starting to act like a tired dad.

You sat down on his shoulder when suddenly, you felt something uncomfortably poking your back. Wincing a bit, you grabbed whatever was making you feel uncomfortable and to your surprise, it was your emergency gun. Throughout the whole day, you’ve forgotten that you kept one. Optimus turned his head towards you and once his optics landed on the gun, he almost flinched away. Let’s just say, despite his massive size, he didn’t like any weapons too close to his head. Also, the image of you holding a gun was something that was too strange for him and he did not like it whatsoever. To him, it was equivalent to giving a 5-year-old a rifle.

“[Y/N]...why do you have a gun?”

You turned to him as your eyes met with his glowing blue ones and a mischievous smile slowly crept onto your face.

“Oh, this old thing? Well, I did manage to steal it from one of the Cemetery Wind soldiers during one of our encounters. I’m pretty much a pro at using guns now.” You boldly said as you twirled it around your finger.

There goes your inner arrogant self. Unfortunately for you, your little twirling trick almost led to you dropping your gun. You caught in time just as it flew out of your hand. Optimus deadpanned at you and had the urge to roll his optics. Yeap, even when you were in your twenties, you were still somewhat a brat.

“Well then, little pro, I’ll have you know that the safety is off.”

He smirked when he saw the semi-panicked look on your face and went to immediately check it, only to find out that the safety was, in fact, not off and he just wanted to mess around with you. To his amusement, you groaned and whined, almost like you were having a tantrum. A quiet burst of laughter erupted from him and his body slightly shook.

“I know that it is not my business to pry in, but aren’t you too young to be using a weapon as dangerous as that one?” He asked once he had calmed.

“Eh, I’ve grown. I mean, I’m already in my twenties and honestly, I did not expect to spend my early adult life as a fugitive with giant alien mech robots. I guess you can say that I’m no longer little.”

“Perhaps. But you will always be my little one.”

The both of you smiled at each other as you both wished for the night to never end. Then, a recollection of what he said earlier popped into your mind and your sincere smile faded.

But when I found out who’s behind this, he’s going to die.

“Optimus? Do you really plan on killing the person behind all this chaos? The person who organized Cemetery Wind and KSI...are you really going to kill them? Does that mean you hate humans now?”

Oh no, has he frightened you? Once his face fell, he averted his gaze from you and stared at the dark horizon. Suddenly, he became serious. He had never wanted this; he doubted anyone did. But the humans had forced him into this twisted game and it was either he finally made his move or watched all the people he most cared about die.

“Both Autobots and Decepticons are Cybertronians. Both came from the planet, Cybertron. I fight the Decepticons for a reason, but that does not mean that I hate all Cybertronians. The same goes for your species. I do not hate all humans, but I do hate the humans who forced us to play their little game. If we do not do something about it, you will not be able to return to your parents and we will not be able to gain the peace that we deserve. There can be no winners or losers without a fight. I’m sorry, [Y/N], but this is just the way how things work. If there were any other options, I would’ve taken them.”

You stared at him in awe. He was right. This was a fight for survival, a fight they never wanted to be in. What kind of leader doesn’t lead their team to victory or even try to? The look on your face softened and you slowly stood up. Optimus looked back at you to watch what you were doing, but he was only met with surprise when you pressed your forehead against his. He closed his optics and did his best to reciprocate the kind gesture.

“Well, I’ll have you know that no matter what happens, you’ll always be my favorite Bot. Uh- don’t tell Bee I said that, by the way. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

“Duly noted.”

The two of you spent a bit more time together under the stars before he went back to the campsite to recharge, much to your dismay. You protested multiple times even though he kept reminding you that the team had a big mission day tomorrow and that they were leaving early in the morning. He did not want to see you with low energy tomorrow just because you were being stubborn with sleeping. As he gracefully transformed into his vehicle form, you had a not so graceful landing with the seat cushions. Your betraying body forced a yawn to escape and you (badly) covered it up with a fake cough. Of course, that didn’t stop Optimus from saying “told you so.”

“But Optimuuuuussss! I don’t wanna go to sleep!” You whined. “What if I wake up and see that you’re not here? What if you get taken by Cemetery Wind? Or-”

“[Y/N], I assure you that I will very much still be here when you wake up tomorrow. And if by some chance Cemetery Wind does manage to find us, I will wake you up. We have a long day tomorrow. Please get some rest.”

You didn’t say anything else and continued to sit there, staring down at your lap. The night had gone by too soon for your liking. Despite Optimus’s reassurance, that didn’t dull down the worries that filled your head. Just when you were about to complain once more, the radio turned on and played a tune you knew all too well.

“You are my sunshine

My only sunshine.

You make me happy

When skies are grey.

You’ll never know dear,

How much I love you.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

It was a tune your mother would always sing to you when you were still a little kid. You didn’t know how he knew that was one of your favorite songs, but you weren’t complaining at all. In comforting defeat, you lied down on the cushions and stared at the ceiling above you.

“Goodnight, my little sunshine.”

“Night, Papa Bot.”

Checkmate. The truck then slightly rumbled and shook out of shock and surprise. You guessed that you managed to catch him off-guard, something that you’ve well mastered. He sputtered through the radio, trying to get words out. Now, this was better than any reaction you’ve seen from him. You laughed and laughed and laughed to the point where you were holding your stomach. Once your laughter died down, you patted the seat and waited to be whisked away.

“ ‘Papa Bot’? Really?”

“I love you~”

A tired sigh came from him. You were such a confusing child.

“I love you too.”

#optimus prime x reader #transformers x reader #transformers bayverse #bayverse #transformers #optimus prime #bumblebee #ironhide #ratchet #drift #crosshairs #hound #cade yeager #tessa yeager #shane dyson #i love mr papa bot

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

Honeysuckle

Summary: The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

Tags: whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Spencer had initially been wary of Penelope’s invitation to picnic in Meridian Hill Park one beautiful summer afternoon — he burned way too easily and didn’t like exposing himself to insects more than absolutely necessary — but as soon as she’d mentioned Derek was going, he’d given in. He wasn’t about to turn down an afternoon spent in the sun with his best friends and boyfriend. It was a rare day off for the team: one not even spent hanging by their phone expecting to be called in any minute, so they were all insistent on making the most of it.

He’s the last one to arrive, spotting the others sat in the shade of an oak tree, already laughing as they get stuck into their first drinks of the afternoon. Despite his initial hesitations, as soon as he feels the sun on his face and sees his friends he’s immediately glad he turned up and he hurries over to join the rest of the team, his own contributions to the picnic in hand.

“Pretty boy!” Derek shouts, grinning widely as he jumps up from his lazy position on the blanket to wrap Spencer in a hug, before pulling back slightly to kiss him. He can already tell he’s a little tipsy, and although Spencer doesn’t drink he has nothing against everyone else letting their hair down and having fun; God knows they deserve it.

His relationship with Derek is only a few months old, and he still relishes every moment he gets to spend wrapped up in his arms.

“Hey guys.” His words are muffled slightly by Derek’s shoulder as his boyfriend is reluctant to let him go, but as soon as he’s released, he turns to match everyone’s wide grins.

“Did you bring the strawberries?” Emily asks, levelling him with a faux-stern look that she can’t maintain for long, melting back into her relaxed smile soon enough.

“Of course.” He takes a seat on the picnic blanket only to be immediately wrapped into a side hug by Penelope. He hugs back before beginning to unpack his bag.

“What about the icing sugar?” she asks, and her stern glare isn’t fake at all: Spencer knows how seriously Penelope takes a) organisation, and b) sweet treats.

“Who do you take me for?” he laughs, retrieving the fruit and sugar from his bag and taking a swig of the cool lemonade he’d packed in his thermos.

Sometimes he wishes he could go back in time and show lonely, teenage Spencer pictures of days like these. One day, he’ll be twenty six, working at his dream job, and spending his days off in the warmth of the East Coast sun one Sunday afternoon surrounded by his best friends, kissed by his boyfriend at every opportunity. They’ve never asked him to be anything other than exactly who he is, inviting them into their group and doting on him relentlessly, loving him just as much as he loves them.

It’s a luxury you only appreciate when you’ve known the loneliness of summer: when the hum of the AC is the only sound in your stuffy, humid dorm room, and you’re researching the effects of methane on winter weather patterns as you long for cold weather again, because then at least then you don’t have to listen to the excited shouts of friends outside anymore, then it’s acceptable to isolate yourself inside with only yourself and books for company.

He shakes himself out of his miserable recollections and reminds himself to be in the present. Emily has her head in Penelope’s lap as they discuss which incarnation of Doctor Who is the best while JJ and Derek discuss the new jogging park opening up across the border in Virginia. He knows which conversation is more suited to his interests and immediately goes up to bat for the Seventh Doctor, which manages to engage him in a spirited debate with both women.

Soon, though, they find themselves all discussing their workplace embarrassments and recalling the funniest moments from over the last few years, and Spencer loses himself in the heat of the afternoon and the warmth of his friendships. He’s gorged himself on all the strawberries and sandwiches he could stomach, and as the afternoon stretches longer and evening approaches he lies down on the blanket and rests his head in Derek’s lap, mirroring Penelope and Emily. His eyes flutter closed as his full belly and heat of the sun tire him out, and Derek’s fingers thread themselves through Spencer’s long hair, a light and welcome touch.

The haze of his friends still chatting around him as he dozes comfortably is interrupted, however, when he feels a sharp pinch on his wrist and seconds later, he’s fighting for breath. He launches upright, wheezing as he claws at his chest, trying desperately to fill his lungs with enough air.

“Spencer? Oh my God, Spencer, what’s wrong?” Penelope cries, immediately by his side as she looks him over frantically, not knowing what’s happening.

“Derek, call an ambulance,” JJ directs, taking charge as she rushes to Spencer’s side as well. “He’s in anaphylactic shock. Spencer, listen to me, do you have your epi-pen with you?”

Her words manage to get through the panicked haze and light-headedness as he can’t get enough oxygen. He can feel his face swelling and his heart racing, but he’s still coherent enough to point to his bag.

“He didn’t eat anything, though,” Emily says, panicked and confused as she watches her friend have a medical crisis while she’s powerless to help.

“He’s allergic to bees,” JJ says, keeping calm as she prepares the epi-pen and administers it to Spencer’s thigh. “One must have stung him for some reason.”

“There!” Penelope points to the bee sting on Spencer’s wrist and JJ lunges for her bag, rummaging until she finds her credit card which she uses to carefully slide under the stinger and remove it, preventing any more venom from flowing into Spencer’s system.

It’s clear after a few minutes that the epi-pen hasn’t worked: Spencer still feels like he can’t catch his breath and the world is fading slowly as his heart beats out of control and his organs can’t get enough oxygen.

He feels himself be moved gently by various hands as JJ directs the others until he’s leaning up as comfortably as possible against Derek’s chest as Penelope elevates his legs to keep blood flowing to his vital organs.

“It’s okay, Spencer,” JJ says loudly, right in front of his face. It’s blurry and out of focus and he can feel himself losing consciousness fast. “The ambulance is on its way.”

It’s the last thing he hears before he collapses completely as he passes out.

⭐️

It’s dark outside when Spencer finally wakes up. His bed is warm and comfortable and he lets himself listen to the somewhat comfortable steady beeps of the heart monitor and movement of staff and patients around the ward before finally opening his eyes to scan his room.

Derek’s sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair right next to his bed, sketching what Spencer can only guess are plans for the property he’s just taken on, an empty jello cup balancing on the armrest of his chair.

“Sandwiches and strawberries not fill you up?” he asks, voice croaky as he cracks an eye open. He can’t help but smile, too. He has the best boyfriend and the best friends anyone could ever hope for.

Derek’s head snaps up as he hears Spencer’s voice, setting his notebook and jello aside to grab for Spencer’s hand. “You are something else,” he chuckles. “Your first thought when coming round from a medical disaster is an observation of my eating patterns.” He shakes his head fondly. “ But you know I can’t pass up a tub of jello.”

“That’s true. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you say no when it’s offered.”

“You’re one to talk, pretty boy.”

They lapse into short silence, accompanied only by the quiet beeps of the machines. “Sorry I scared you,” he whispers eventually, feeling guilt wrap itself around his stomach.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault.” Derek looks sincere as he holds Spencer’s hand tighter, careful of the IV in his wrist. “The doctors… they said it was a severe attack, which is probably why the first epi-pen didn’t work. They’re monitoring you overnight to make sure there was no damage to your kidneys, I think. I’ll go find a doctor to tell them you’re awake.”

He moves to get out of his seat, but Spencer pulls him back down, as well as he can when he’s still feeling weak. “No, just… don’t leave,” he asks, his voice coming out a little too pleading for his liking. “Stay.”

The idea of being alone right now twists his stomach; the idea of being without Derek so desperately scary.

“Okay, okay, baby,” Derek relents, sitting back down and running a soothing hand through his tangled hair, Spencer’s eyes fluttering closed at the contact. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to.” Instead, he presses the button for the nurse.

“Where are the others?” Spencer dares to ask after a few seconds of quiet.

“The nurses weren’t too happy with four people in here,” Derek chuckles. “I’ve been updating them by text; I’ll tell them you’re awake in a minute. JJ saved your life, you know. None of us had any clue what was happening but she was the only one who kept calm and the only one who got us through those awful minutes waiting for the ambulance to show up.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I told her I was allergic to bee stings years ago. It was just an off-hand comment, it never feels like that big a deal… this is only the third time this has ever happened. I guess I don’t feel the need to bring it up.”

“Well that off-hand comment saved your life, pretty boy.” Derek squeezes his eyes closed for a second, and when he opens them the emotion written on his face is heart-wrenching. “God, I can’t believe I could’ve lost you. There were a good few minutes there when I didn’t think you were gonna make it and after… Tobias… I was just so scared.”

Spencer’s stomach clenches at that, imagining the roles reversed is terrifying just as a hypothetical. He can’t even begin to imagine how Derek felt. He reaches a hand out to touch Derek’s face gently, squeezing his hand with the other. “But you didn’t lose me,” he murmurs. “I’m here, I’m okay.”

“Yeah.” His voice is barely a whisper as his eyes close again. “Is it bad that I kind of want bees to go extinct now?” he asks with a wet chuckle a few moments later.

“Derek!” Spencer laughs weakly, acting scandalised. “Bees are fundamental to the global ecosystem. Civilisation would effectively collapse if bees went extinct, it’s definitely not worth eradicating bees for the sake of me avoiding the rarity of anaphylactic shock, not according to the laws of proportionality. It’s actually frightening how fast the bee population is depleting though… did you know that there are only about 2.5 million honey-producing hives left in the US? That’s down from 4.5 million in 1980 and the loss has largely been attributed to colony collapse disorder—”

“Ah, Doctor Reid, you’re awake.” A smiling nurse bustles through the door and comes to check his vitals, fiddling with one of his IVs before taking a step back. “How’s your breathing? Is the nasal cannula okay or would you prefer a full mask?”

“The cannula’s good,” he says, smiling politely. Really, he just wants to get back to telling Derek all the bee facts he can recall. He has some really good ones itching to be let out. “I’m breathing fine, just feel a little weak still.”

“Good. Your vitals all look stable, so a doctor will be round in the morning to talk you through your treatment and medication. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine, thank you,” Spencer nods, and she gives them one last smile before leaving the room and sliding the door shut quietly behind her.

“I should bring her back in,” Derek chuckles as the nurse leaves the room. “She missed out on your bee lecture. Fascinating stuff.”

“Shut up,” Spencer huffs, sinking back against the pillows. “You don’t deserve to hear my bee facts.”

“No,” Derek protests, grinning widely. “I’m joking, baby, carry on. You were telling me about colony collapse disorder.”

Spencer knows that, of course — he does have an eidetic memory after all — but it makes him smile that Derek remembers exactly where he was in his spiel. Maybe Penelope’s onto something when she says that Derek is “whipped” for him. (It had taken at least fifteen minutes for Spencer to fully understand what she meant by that, mostly because he kept asking about the etymology, history, and statistical usage of the word and she kept rolling her eyes, which he would then insist was not an answer.)

“Colony collapse disorder is depressing,” Spencer sighs, feeling quite tired all of a sudden. “I don’t feel like explaining it.”

“It doesn’t sound great.” Derek goes back to threading his fingers through Spencer’s hair. “Why don’t you tell me your favourite three bee facts, and then you can go back to sleep”

Spencer hums, giving it a bit of thought before replying. “Scientists trained bees to score goals in bee soccer in return for a sugary treat, which is especially interesting because they have brains the size of a poppy seed. They communicate with one another by wiggling their butts. It’s like their own language, they tell their nestmates where to go to get the best food. Bees also live in loads of different places, not just in the countryside. My favourite place they live is in marshes and wetlands, because I love insects that live in watery areas.”

“I’d pay to watch bees play soccer,” Derek laughs quietly. “You’re so smart, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Spencer sighs happily. “Love you,” he murmurs, eyes closing against the exhaustion.

“I love you more.”

Spencer isn’t awake long enough to argue with him.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii @hotchgans @suburban--gothic @takeyourleap-of-faith

#my writing #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #moreid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #spencer reid whump #spencer reid angst #moreid whump #moreid angst #moreid fluff #hurt spencer reid

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reveriequill-rai · 3 years

Text

Shroud: Withered Soul

A/N: Sorry it’s been a while. As of right now I’ve just been uploading stories I’ve written in my newspaper club, and now that I’ve graduated I hope that can now expand to short stories generally. I’m not gonna promise that posts from now on will be more consistent, but I would like to at least speed up my uploads a bit before they actually wind down, as I imagine I will be working on more stories in the future. Everything being uploaded right now is previous work, but nothing too old--probably like, from last year tops. This was completed sometime in May, I believe.

This is an introduction to a character I created called ‘Shroud,’ an amateur self-proclaimed ‘detective’ who exclusively investigates occult-based crimes and malefic.

Content Warning: death, descriptions of corpses, graphic descriptions of violence and pain, cults

[My blog will usually contain PG-13 stories, and as of right now I am writing some darker content, but I will tag anything that may be especially disturbing or uncomfortable. I’ll include this warning in my bio, too.]

----------

The corpse in front of me wasn’t all that disturbing by itself. I had seen dead people before–comes with the territory. I had been dead before. Murder rates in Twilight were, naturally, much higher than any other district in New Fable–especially further south of the district where I was–considering how much wild magic was around, and not even the police force sent here from the northern district of Bastion could do anything about it. So the corpse itself didn’t bother me, all things considered.

What did disturb me, though, was a number of other things.

For one, the corpse just being there was a problem. They weren’t stopping, and they were getting far too close to home.

Its eyes were still open, for another thing, and nearly colorless, and looking at me specifically, and I can swear to you that had not happened when I first laid eyes on it. Even worse, like me, the man lying dead in front of me appeared to be wearing a few bandages like I was, perhaps just recovering from an injury.

And for yet another thing, and perhaps the worst part of this, was the connection I felt with this dead man. Something about the state he was in struck a familiar chord that only I and a select unlucky others knew. As if we were kindred spirits–undergoing the same fate, yet with (probably) different outcomes.

I had been at this–whatever you would call tracking down cults as someone with zero prior detective experience with the help of almost no one–for…a few months now? And I’ve made a bit less progress than would be expected from someone who has seen just about everything the darker sides of magic had to offer. I did have one solid lead, though, and hopefully one that would lead me to exactly who I was looking for.

“Everyone move,” I ordered, pushing my way through the crowd.

Ignoring their complaints, I made my way over toward the body and began to examine it, hoping for any hint of who had done this, and more importantly, if it was exactly who I had suspected. There didn’t appear to be much damage, but what first caught my attention was the note tucked into the man’s pocket. I took it out and unfolded it, and immediately flinched.

Demon tongue.

Hellish whispers ran through my head, and I wasn’t sure if they were just in my head or not. It was hard to tell these days.

I honed in on the note, written on some old paper as if torn from an ancient book. The more I stared, the louder the whispers got. I ignored the throbbing in my head as best as I could–humans were not mentally equipped to engage with the infernal language at all, and I much less so. My hands shook as I read the brief message, which I must have read dozens and dozens of times already; I wasn’t counting and didn’t care to.

Some people studied demon tongue despite…well…everything, even the illegality. It probably didn’t matter to them. It didn’t matter to me, either, but someone had spoken to me in demon tongue before–though, in their defense, likely not out of their own volition–and the trembling and rapid heart rate was not worth the ability to communicate with infernals. (Nothing was, honestly.)

For these reasons–and also not wanting to be arrested or have my mage license revoked–I personally didn’t speak or write demon tongue, but I at least knew a little bit and could recognize some of the infernal runes. And those runes were enough for me to know that this was the exact same message that the abyss had been trying to send me in my last moments.

—

Can’t run home, I thought. They’ll follow me.

Just gotta run until I find a phone booth.

I ran until I finally spotted one on the street corner near a bridge. I let out a sigh of relief, taking a quick moment to catch my breath. Then, I quickly crossed the street and ran toward the phone booth, quickly dialing the police station.

“Hello?” I said into the phone as quietly as I could manage. “My name is [……………………………] I’m at the corner of Coral Avenue by the Armada IV Memorial Bridge. I’m being pursued by a group of kids in demon-charmed cloaks and shawls, please I need your help they have knives and they’re trying to kill me-“

The tears stinging at the edge of my eyes began to overflow as a human voice at the end of the line responded in perfect, uncharacteristically calm demon tongue. It was a short sentence, repeated over and over again, but with the little knowledge I *did* have, I could translate it by about the sixth loop:

“You are going to hell.”

I hung up the phone immediately, resisting the urge to yell, “I KNOW” directly into the phone.

Humans can’t speak demon tongue here. It’s illegal.

So how did an officer know demon tongue?

—

Unsurprisingly, the body was still in semi-good condition. After all, little damage was done to the body—only the soul. The only physical marks I could make out were marks around the wrist and neck, likely to restrain the victim. Couple of bruises here and there, too, but nothing was broken.

This…disturbed me, to say the least.

Cults around here were usually known to be violent. After all, a lot of them stood for violent causes–executing the ‘impure,’ plunging everyone into the dreams of a volatile eldritch creature, usurping the throne and forcing everyone to convert, rallying the youth to their bloody cause with claims that they alone possessed special powers…I had heard it all, all of them violent to some degree. But the ones that had gotten me…they seemed to worship oblivion itself. Or maybe whatever was in it. That was beyond even my knowledge.

But…even then, they still had arguably the least violent cause. The deadliest, yes–they seemed to just be destroying souls–but strangely not as bloody. Yet their means of carrying out this objective has historically been, well, bloody.

Or maybe that was just me.

Either way, this victim had certainly not gotten the worst of it. There were no twisted limbs, no bloodied nose, no wounds from blade or bullet, basically no magic-driven attacks aside from the terminating consumption of the soul…only marks of the initial restraint, bruises from the subduing, and the abyss claiming and destroying the soul.

I could almost picture it in my head: they likely jumped him in the middle of the street, kicking him around a bit to possibly weaken him, throw him off balance, but not too much as to rouse resistance, then restraining him–to the floor? A wall? I couldn’t tell, but there were no rope burns so they must have done this by hand–and calling, somehow, for their god, for lack of a better word, to devour its newest victim’s soul.

What did he see as he died? Did their eyes turn as colorless as his would become? Had they shown any sign of enjoying his torment? I doubt it; it didn’t seem like a very ‘fun’ kill. And likely not as personal as it was for me.

They were getting much better at their kills. It probably wasn’t as fun, but more precise.

And a lot less violent than I had gotten.

—

I caught a glimpse of the charm from earlier out of the corner of my eye, but just as I looked it vanished. Just then a cold breeze hit me as the door behind me opened, and I was yanked out onto the street, leaving the phone dangling by the cord. The book dropped from my hands.

The four delinquents appeared in front of me from nowhere, likely having turned off their Moonlight Shroud charms.

“Gotcha,” Ransley said, smiling as he picked up the book.

“Give it BACK!” I roared, lunging for him. Ransley hit me hard across the face with the book, sending me flying a few feet back onto the brick road. Quickly I realized that my safety was not worth keeping that book. I didn’t know where or how Ransley learned to hit that hard but I wasn’t going to stick around to find out. As he and the others examined the book, I began to scurry away as Ransley gave an order to the others:

“Get him.”

An instant later, I heard something click far behind me, and a sharp pain ripped through my knee. I collapsed to the floor, letting out an agonized cry. I examined my knee, and saw a hole much bigger than a bullet hole should be. I looked up at my attackers.

A gun?!

“What the HELL?!” I shouted. “You’ve already got what you want! LEAVE ME ALO-“

Ardent appeared behind me and punched me square in the face. I held my probably-broken nose as a muffled shriek of pain escaped me. Each of them vanished and took turns raining blows and slashes on me as I tried to step back and run. They gave me almost no chance to react. My body ached everywhere; the knife wounds, though shallow, stung just as bad, if not worse, as any bee. I could barely stand. I used my remaining strength to try and push them off of me whenever I felt them, but I stumbled each time I did, giving them room to knock me around further. Finally I collapsed, and Ardent grabbed my shirt and dragged me to the bridge.

“W-wait-“ I cried, still wincing and crying from my bruises and decayed knee. “STOP IT!-”

—

I examined the bandages on my hand and knee. The ones from that night must’ve been amateurs, or at least new to the cult’s way of doing things.

Focus, Shroud.

The victim’s eyes were still open, and almost completely empty.

Almost.

The body must not be entirely empty, then. This wasn’t exactly a kill—whoever this person was, they would not be dead for much longer, or at least depending on your definition of ‘dead.’

How long ago had this attack been, then? I touched the skin—still warm-ish. This had to be recent.

By that logic, if this was meant not as a lethal attack, but as one of induction into their group…

I wasn’t sure how long I had been out, but I at least knew it wasn’t for very long.

So…I didn’t have much longer, then.

I instinctively jerked away from the body. Would he come back? He wouldn’t be under anyone’s control, at least for the first few minutes–how long does it take to kill someone? Would it be long enough for him to kill me?–no, he probably wouldn’t go after me; I had barely any soul left for him to long for…unless he’s just that desperate enough to take scraps from a near-husk.

What would he do when he came back? Would he wander around, lost, confused, until they welcomed him with false promises of salvation and freedom from the ‘burden’ of having a judgement-tied soul? Would he be violent, as they had been to him?

Then again…I came back after one of their attacks, but with a will of my own. Did they want me to come back? Why would they want me of all people to come back?

—

“You know how much trouble you caused us, […….…]?!” Ransley shouted as he kicked me in my injured leg. “Don’t act like you didn’t have this coming, you little weasel.”

“I didn’t-“ I tried to say.

Ransley propped me up on the sidewalk, just by the edge of the bridge, right above the river. He placed his hand on my bruised shoulder, looking at me with a bone-chilling grin.

Again, I got a good look at his eyes. This time, everything except the pupils was entirely white. As I looked I almost felt like I was staring at something beyond; further, even. But the harder I looked the more I could see how much nothing there was. And yet, in spite of that, this nothing seemed to be staring back at me.

The others had the same white eyes too, looking on with a horrible satisfaction.

“What…” I barely managed to say, “…what are y-you…?”

“Free,” Ransley answered, without his usual cruelty and instead with an uncharacteristically sanctimonious tone. “And with our help, so too will you be free.”

With a hard shove, I was pushed off the bridge.

I grabbed onto the edge with my hand, barely having the strength to pull myself up.

“T-this is insane-!” I cried. “Ransley! Please! Y-you can keep the book; I won’t call the police, just help me up-“

Ransley frowned and put his boot on my hand. He leaned in as he brought his foot down harder, crushing my hand. Bone splintered and crumbled under the weight of the shoe, and I let out a shriek as a cold look crossed his face.

“You really should stop holding on so much,” he said. “That’s your problem. That’s why you’re here. Just let go, and face oblivion.”

Ransley took his foot off finally, but my hand had run out of strength. I slipped, and fell into the river.

—

Either way, I had to work fast.

“Hey, kid!” Someone from the crowd called. “What’re you doing? Leave this to the professionals.”

I turned around, and maybe it was the speed at which I had whirled around to face them, or he did just flinch.

Was it my eyes?

“The police won’t find them,” I explained. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve studied demonology for a few years.”

I went back to the body.

“You mean you know who did this?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I answered. “I just wanna be sure…”

I pressed down on the bruises on their shoulder and arms. Hollow. I felt no bone or extra layer of skin or muscle underneath.

Just as I suspected, I thought. Soul devouring.

My only question now was, how much of the soul was left?

—-

The bridge wasn’t particularly tall; just enough for any small cargo ships to run under. But the fall felt much longer than it had any right to.

I never hit the water. I was swallowed by something but it certainly wasn’t the river. It was as cold and sharp but nothing wet ever touched my skin or clothes.

I did not fall into water. I fell into something foreign, something dark, something alive, something evil.

Its eyes were beady and attentive, focused, eager, and it had long rows of sharp fangs. It appeared to smile at me, expecting me, welcoming me. Whispers in demon-tongue surrounded me, and I overwhelmed myself trying to find a single word I could understand. The only thing I could catch was “going to hell” again…was this it? Was this hell? What circle was this?

I was immobile, unable to look away from the creature in front of me, unable to scream as it opened its fang-filled mouth. I couldn’t even let out a scream of protest; no, not against this, as it brought down its jaws and took a large bite out of a deep part of me even I could never access. The pain from my bruises and wounds no longer burned; only ached, as if the pain had been there forever.

I was hollow. If there was anything left, I barely even felt it. My wounds glowed a hot white color and became shallow. I felt nothing but an aching nigh-emptiness that seemed to have no origin I could place; no past; only a present and a long future.

I didn’t know how long I was in that void. But as much as I despised that thing for robbing me of my life, I was grateful that it chose to let me go.

—-

 I took out my pen from my pocket and a couple of mini-candles from my satchel. I flicked a lighter and lit the candles, surrounding them at different points around the body. I began to draw an evocation circle around the body. I’m not sure what had stopped this cult from performing forced evocations as opposed to beating everyone into submission until they blacked out enough to face the abyss and have their soul devoured, but I wasn’t about to find any sense in a group of people who literally worship the abyss.

I took my time with the intricate webs of the circle, carefully connecting whatever remained of the soul to the points where I would draw in the runes, and connected those to the candles.

I then drew in symbols in the language of the spirits at the different sub-points that would draw up souls from the afterlife, adding a desperate prayer in each pen stroke that I evoke the right thing and not something unwelcome. I had to steady my hand as I did this, reminding myself that this was merely a human soul who was recently killed, so the chances of him having ended up in hell – was he that kind of person? – were slim; they had to be, of course they were; there was no need to panic so stop panicking. Yet knowing I was drawing the same symbols, the same webs, lighting the same candles as the deadly evokers around town who would break into people’s houses and draw evocation circles under their beds to call up who-knows-what from the pits of hell to torment the living…to think I was drawing the same circle that I checked for every night when I went to sleep…

The pen snapped in my shaking hand against the concrete, getting ink all over my hand. I swore, and rubbed some on my finger tip so I could start to finish the circle.

“What the hell are you doing, kid?!” someone cried, making me jump. “You’re tampering with evidence! That’s illegal!”

“You’re gonna screw up the investigation!” someone else shouted.

I steadied myself from being startled.

“This…this is the investigation,” I replied bluntly.

“Wh–okay…? Are you a detective or something?” the first guy asked.

I shrugged.

“I think so,” I said.

“You think-”

I could hear further shouts from the crowd as I turned the body over to draw the rest of the circle underneath, but I held up my hand to stop them from getting closer.

“Just let me work!” I cried without looking back.

That’s when I noticed some of the rapidly-decaying skin near the shoulder and side of the ankles. The skin had withered and given way to bone, the effect cutting through flesh and muscle. Even the bone had begun to decay.

Well, so much for minimal damage.

I unzipped the victim’s jacket and pulled back the shirt just slightly to get a better look at the damage. The withering had spread further—the entire shoulder seemed about ready to decay. I took a camera out of my bag and took a picture of the decaying wounds.

With the remaining ink, I drew another sigil on the bandage of my injured hand, a heart-shaped eye-like symbol with two lines running up my index and middle finger. It was a painful process and I was just careful enough to have the pen not tear through the bandage, and I placed my shaking hand on the decaying shoulder and closed my eyes. I saw all of the injuries on the man’s body, including where he had been injured–he had a broken arm that had almost finished recovering, and a fractured foot that was also healing, but wasn’t as near completion as his arms. Either way, both of these had stopped healing, and had actually gotten worse, with the bones beginning to decay in both areas.

What was the point of beating people up, breaking them, letting them decay, and then expecting them to join you after you had broken them? My attackers probably went through the same thing as this man had–as I had, if this cult was larger than them. So why do the same thing to others?

But that was just it, though, wasn’t it?

They knew what it was like to be soulless, and only they knew not only how to recover from the injuries suffered, but how to disguise themselves as living to avoid trouble with the law.

I looked again at the bandages on my hand, and unraveled it slightly, careful not to let the crowd see. There, too, did my flesh begin to decay. This was the primary issue with not having a soul: without the very essence that gives us life, our bodies aren’t capable of self-healing anymore. Any injuries are permanent unless fixed by a doctor, or if we tend our own wounds.

Fortunately my bones—at least in my hand—hadn’t completely withered away. I managed to revive just in time, fortunately.

Just in time.

——

I don’t remember much about the day I woke up. Just the excruciating, aching pain.

What I did know was I had washed up on the shore of the city, and I couldn’t stand up for a very long time. A burning sensation enveloped my entire hand and knee, and I felt a throbbing sensation in both areas. The bruises from the beatdown stuck on me like a leech, but most vividly, my chest felt hollow. And it hurt. The emptiness gnawed at the inside of my chest, and it, too, burned and ached. Like a stomach ache in the wrong place.

With my good hand I crawled my way off of the shore until I found a lamppost. I grabbed onto it, and propped up my good knee. I swung my arm toward the lamppost, grabbing onto it with my bad hand, shocks of pain running through my body. I tried to haul myself up, but the weight of my body caved my knee in, and I collapsed. That’s when I got a good look at my hand.

Bits of skin had completely come off, seeming to have withered away. Pieces of bone underneath had chipped off.

I grew nauseous and I felt the blood drain from my face. I let out some inhuman noise that I reckoned was some attempt at a scream but came out as a cross between that and a moan of agony.

How had this happened?

It was a horrible sound, but at least I had been found. Otherwise, who knows what would’ve happened?

Or who else would’ve found me?

——

Finishing the circle grew tricky as my hand trembled, though I was unsure if it was from the injury or from the reality of the process itself.

“Kid, we don’t even know who you are,” the guy from earlier said. “Are you even a licensed detective?”

I ignored him and wiped some of the ink from my pen on my hand, pressing my hands together to activate the circle. As the soul fire candles flared, what little color was left in their eyes drained slowly, and a small, glowing, deteriorated wisp of a soul rose out of the victim’s body.

This was all that was left…

Somehow this dead man was just the same as I, who could still breath, still walk, still talk, still live—but only just.

What had this man’s soul seen before it was decimated? If, in fact, the same people who killed me are responsible for this, did he, too, see the same grinning face in the abyss that I had? Was he as afraid as I was? Or did he accept this as death?

I took my mage’s license out of my pocket and showed it to the crowd.

“I’m a licensed magic user,” I said, “is that enough?”

“…that’s not a detective license,” the same guy said. “I’m calling the police.”

“Great!” I said. “Tell them the Brotherhood of Abyss Walkers did this.” At this point it was all but confirmed.

“The…what?”

“The cult that keeps tormenting this forsaken town,” I explained. “The one behind all the unexplained murders.”

The guy—along with the rest of the crowd—stifled a laugh. Some of them couldn’t hold it in.

“There’s no cult in New Lumanore,” someone else said. “Our security’s airtight; no way they would’ve been able to form a guild without a license.”

“Just call the authorities, Aaron,” a lady in the crowd said. “This kid isn’t worth persuading.”

“W-wait-“ I said before letting out a resigned sigh. I packed up the candles and pocketed my pen, and took off. I knew who the culprit was. What the police had to say didn’t bother me.

They’ll believe me when I put the culprit behind bars.

—————

In previous investigations I managed to pin down the general area where the Abyss Walkers operate. Prior murders took place at least within a mile’s range of Eclipse Avenue, an area further south of New Lumanore. It was a relatively quiet and empty area; there were quite a bit of shops and buildings of unknown function that no one ever seemed to go into, not even during the day.

The entire place screamed occult activity.

Sure enough, just as I hit the corner of the avenue I caught a glimpse of a Moonlight Shroud charm, pinned to the outwear of a hooded figure. They were walking along the other side of the street, hanging close to the bare wall of a wide building.

Once they were some distance along I crossed the street quickly and began tailing them.

Confrontation wasn’t new to me, just…unfavorable. Is that why I trembled? Either way I knew the procedure: Walk with the same beat. Same path, same pattern of step. Stop when he stops. Walk like this until the shadow is close enough for contact.

Once I did I took out a capsule from my coat. It contained shadow ink, allowing me to either create my own shadow, or to hide within someone else’s. I didn’t have enough of a soul to perform any magical feats on my own–whatever I could do would probably just come out as sparks–so this was the best I could work with. Unfortunately the capsule was nearly empty, and I made a mental note to contact my supplier after I was finished. In the meantime, I used what was left to lather my hand in ink as I silently crept behind the lone cultist, and pressed my hand against his shadow. I latched on and eventually got pulled in. Inside the shadow realm, I had a black-and-white view of the street from inside the wall. I couldn’t breathe, though, and I couldn’t hold my breath for very long so I knew I had to jump him sooner rather than later.

I took a coin out of my pocket and tossed it outside behind the cultist. He stopped and turned around, as expected, and I took the moment to lunge out and grab him by the throat.

—————

The cultist narrowed his eyes, and an amused smirk came on his face.

“Hey…” he said. “I know you.”

I flinched. How?

He kicked me off and stood up.

“You…you’re the kid we got that book from!” He chuckled. “You don’t quit, do you? This is really what you chose to do after death? Vigilante work?”

I felt the blood drained from my face.

“…what are you talking about?” I lied. “What book?”

“The demonology book, stupid,” he said. “The thing damning you to begin with. You forgot already? Or did you lose your memories alongside almost all your soul somehow?”

I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to charge at him again. I couldn’t take him in a head-on fight. I was too weak for that.

“Tell me,” he said. “How’s it feel? Being so close to freedom, so close to ridding yourself of that moral creed weighing you down…no fear of rapture…just your life and your…well, I suppose now broken…body, and your heart and mind.”

“Shut up,” I snapped.

“Good thing you came back, though. We’ve been slacking on our initiations recently…Ardent went a little too hard on too many people. We’re behind on our quota.”

“Wait a sec…” I took a step back. “What do you mean ‘too hard?’ Aren’t they supposed to come back?”

“The idiot decided to use magic to slow the initiates down,” the cultist explained. “As if that wouldn’t damage the soul at all. I’m sure you of all people know. You’ve taken enough beatings form him, right, D–“

I punched him in the face. The second I made contact I realized I had used my bad hand without thinking. Bone snapped, collapsed, and even shifted through the hole in my hand. I let out a far-too-loud shriek of agony as I recoiled and caressed my hand, trying to relocate the bone.

The cultist looked at me and laughed, and I raised a finger on my good hand and threatened him:

“Don’t try that again,” I said. “I’ve still got one—ahh…—perfectly functioning hand.”

“Fine by me,” he replied. “You hit hard for a dead person…”

My hand still ached from the punch. I imagine it probably hurt me way more than it hurt him.

“Do you mean to turn me in, Shroud?” the cultist hissed. “Just try it. I know who you are. They’ll find out you’re undead and investigate you to hell and back. Whatever decimal of a soul you have left won’t save you. Not even close.”

“I can’t trust you with that information even if I let you go,” I said. “But even if you do…I’ll know sooner or later if you’ve said something. You best not try it if you don’t wanna die twice.”

The cultist grinned.

“I’m shaking,” he said, deadpan. “I’ll just come back again.”

“What, are there no revival limits in your little group?”

“Nope. He’ll bring us back again and again as long as he needs us.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Oh, you’ve only been resurrected once, you big baby,” the cultist said. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not joining you.”

“You have no reason not to,” the cultist said. “We can fix your broken body; make you look and seem as alive as the next person. Those remnants of a soul may not matter to the police, who’ll mark you as soulless anyway, but you know who it does matter to?” He pointed at the sky and at the group. “Them. Someone like you, who’s spent hours learning about heaven’s enemies…you think you have any chance of reaching heaven? HA!”

I fell silent. Just when I thought being registered as ‘dead’ to everyone you know meant they wouldn’t bother you about being a (rookie) demonologist anymore. That reminder worked my last nerve, yet every time it was brought up I could never muster up a proper defense.

“…I’m aware,” I mumbled.

“Besides, I’m sure you’re just livid at the police, who never caught who got you. I’m sure you’d like your vengeance against them for failing you…we can help you out with that, if you’d like. After all, why should we fear death, or judgement, from this life or the next? Like I’ve said, we’ve got no soul to weigh us down to heaven or hell. No death, no judgment. Just you, whatever you wanna do, and a welcoming oblivion who’ll spit you back out as many times as needed. As long as you keep it fed, that is.”

“It doesn’t matter if the police know or if they don’t know,” I said. “I know. And I’ll know more than they ever will. Besides, why the hell would I trust you to give me closure about my death–the death YOU caused?!”

The cultist frowned.

“And that’s just the trouble, isn’t it…you’re just about soulless, and the only soulless person New Lumanore who isn’t with us and…for what? You lose nothing by joining us!”

“First of all,” I shouted. “I am not soulless. Your stupid demon didn’t take all of it.”

“Yeah. Still not sure why that happened,” the cultist replied, “but who am I to question the great abyss–”

“Oh, shut up. And second of all–just in case you forgot–YOU KILLED ME! I don’t owe you loyalty, or gratitude, or mercy…I owe you nothing.”

“You may be upset now,” the cultist said, “but you’ll learn to thank us later.”

“I will not.”

His frown turned into a scowl. He took out a small cylinder from his pocket.

“I was gonna use this the day of the attack,” he said, “but I didn’t see any point. Seemed like the others were doing just fine without the staff.”

Sure enough, the cylinder popped open into a metal bo-staff. He walked towards me, twirling it through his fingers.

“You’ve been chasing the wrong thing, Shroud,” he said. “You think you need vengeance, but what you really need is security. We all know what being soulless is like. You’re weaker, you can’t heal your wounds, you can’t do magic, and it’s pretty obvious when you’ve just come back from the dead. I don’t care what three-percent of a soul you do have; it’s nowhere near enough for you to enjoy all the privileges of being fully human. Face it. You’re basically the same as us.”

As I stepped back, he stopped spinning the staff and instead gripped it with both hands.

“So you can either let go of those remnants you have the audacity to still call a soul, then come with us and let us give you the safety you so desperately need,” he said, rearing the staff back, “…or we’ll just break you further and let oblivion do what it wishes with your remains.”

He started to bring the staff down.

“WAIT!” I yelled, bringing my hands to my face.

Surprisingly enough, he actually froze, the staff a couple inches from my face.

“Okay…I get it…” I said. “You’re right. I won’t turn you in. Just…promise me you won’t tell anyone who I am.”

“What’s stopping me?” the cultist asked, cocking his head slightly and raising an eyebrow.

“Look. I didn’t turn you in,” I said. “You owe me.”

“No I don’t. I’m not tied to anything but oblivion.”

I let out an annoyed huff.

“Like I said. I’ll know if you exposed me,” I reminded him. “I don’t care if that scares you or not, just…let me go.”

“Let YOU go?! You jumped ME!”

“And I had—I…thought…I had the right to. Look…I’m backing down. You go about your night. I go about mine. We don’t speak of this.”

The cultist hesitated, then put the staff away.

“Fine,” he said. “But we’ll still come back for you. Whether or not your initiation goes smoothly is entirely on you.”

With that, he pulled out the same charm he had on the day of the attack, and vanished.

“See you around,” he said.

That was the last I heard of him that night.

Once I thought I was safe, I let out a loud groan of annoyance.

I had him. He was literally a few feet away. If I *just* had more shadow ink that would’ve been it for him.

But…he was right. I was at every possible disadvantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I shouldn’t have jumped him. I should’ve just taken note of his appearance and went from there. That was foolish on my part.

But…I did have his appearance now.

But he had my identity.

I still wasn’t at a complete advantage. And I couldn’t work like that. I had to lay low, and rebuild. My hand was wounded and I was lucky I didn’t get my skull bashed in. There was no way I could have recovered from that. But I wouldn’t give up. I had a lead and I wasn’t letting go of it.

I didn’t care about their ‘freedom’ or ‘not being tied down’ or anything like that. Fact of the matter is, they were hurting people, and their demon lord had more control over them than they’d realize.

They were beyond redemption. The demon didn’t bind them through any soul manipulation or contract–it was some weird combination of free will, gratitude, and the threat of permanent death.

These cultists had to go, and quickly. They had to pay, and dearly.

I know I’m weak, but once I’m back up and running I would do as much damage from the shadows as humanly possible.

They weren’t bound by any rules, so why should I have to be?

I didn’t care how many times I would get hurt. They ruined my life, and I was going to pay them back tenfold.

#original story #fiction story #creative writing #dark fantasy #urban fantasy #violence cw #death cw #cult cw #death tw #violence tw #cult tw

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palettes-and-prompts · 4 years

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25 Dialogue Prompts for Each Color of the Rainbow (Part 2)

Red 1) "How could anyone not like me? I'm perfect." 2) "Quick! They're coming, how do I look? Do I have anything in my teeth? Do I smell because I need to look perfect!" 3) "Wow, have you been working out, you look great!" 4) "Oh, this old thing? I just threw this on." 5) "You really think I'm beautiful?" 6) "I wasn't meant to be some little star. I was meant to be the sun." 7) "They haven't texted me since the date and it's been a week. What if they didn't like me? No, that's ridiculous, I'm wonderful. Something must've just happened to their phone." 8) "I'm going to die alone aren't I? Just me, some cats, and boxed wine. At least Real Housewives will always be there for me." 9) "They're obviously not looking for perfection because I'm right here." 10) "I'm not shopping at a thrift store, that's where poor people shop!" 11) "You had better change for the party because you're fucking high if you think I'm going to let you stand next to me while you wear that outfit." 12) "A gift? For me? Oh you shouldn't have! Oh...a book...wow...thanks. You, uh, really shouldn't have." 13) "Please be a loser somewhere else." 14) "I'm on a diet where I have to drink kale. If you value your life leave right now." 15) "I want this entire box of Kit Kats." "....the whole box." "NOW!" 16) "It's scary out there, I'm not coming with you to check out that noise." "Okay." "No! Wait, don't actually leave me alone." 17) "I am not a scaredy cat! I just don't like when things pop out at me or creep around in the dark or come within ten feet of me unless they're hot." 18) "I would never ever fall in love with you." "Okay, well, you're still holding onto me." "I just didn't want to get lost!" 19) "Wow, you're really strong. Like...really strong." "If you're that thirsty there's a water fountain right over there." 20) "God look at them. They look so good when they're sweaty. Oh fuck they're taking their jacket off." "You're drooling." 21) "Give me back the honey bun or I will scratch your eyes out." "You need to calm down." "You need to not tell me to calm down." 22) "Everyone keeps getting flowers and it's so annoying. Like, we have work to do, you shouldn't be worried about getting flowers. I hate flowers, I-" "I think there are some flowers on your desk." "Oh my god I love flowers! They're so pretty. Aww, I wonder who got them for me." " 23) "I think you're the most dramatic person I know." "That can't be true, I'm not dramatic." "You literally cried yesterday when no one noticed you got your hair trimmed like a centimeter." "It was a big difference from how it was!" "It was a centimeter!" 24) "My ideal home is one that's small but enough to have a family in." "They're such a fucking liar, their ideal home has to have mirrors everywhere, a double curved staircases so they can walk down dramatically, a maze in the backyard, a fountain in the front with a circular driveway, but then the road in is lined with trees because their dramatic and when you get to the gate it has their last initial on it." "Oh my god, you do listen to me!" "Unfortunately yes." 25) "Are you in love with me?" "What? No, I can't stand you." "You remember everything about me! You pay attention to everything I say and I can be very..." "Dramatic?" "Passionate about certain things. You hate it." "I don't hate it." "So you love it?" "We don't have to put a label on what I feel." "Yes we do. You love me!" "Fine, okay, I love you." "Really?" "Don't get all passionate right now." "I'm already planning our wedding in my mind."

Orange 1) "You're really cool, we should hang out sometime. Maybe you could watch me skateboard." 2) "You're always stressing yourself out, why don't you let me help you unwind?" 3) "It's just you, me, and this goat you told me not to get." 4) "You think hiding your snacks is gonna stop me from eating them? I'm like a bloodhound, I will sniff them out!" 5) "What do you think would happen if I snorted Cheeto dust?" 6) "Remember when you told me not to try to reach into the vending machine when my chips got stuck because my arm would get stuck in there. Well, the good news is I got my chips. Bad news is I wont be home for a while." 7) "You know how Gaston ate four dozen eggs every morning to help him get large? Okay, so that's bullshit because when I was a kid I tried to do that and I barely ate a dozen before I threw up." 8) "Oh, I'm an idiot? Because I think I'm fucking styling in these diamond studded crocs while I ride my razor scooter!" 9) "Oh, I always get a perfect score on any test I take. Everyone always thinks I'm cheating but the doctors say I've got something called an photographic memory where I only look at things once and I just remember it. Anyway, wanna see how many ants I can eat?" 10) "One time I got stung by a bee on the tongue because I wanted to see what it felt like." "Did it feel good?" "It did not." 11) "I used to think Bronchitis meant I was growing broccoli inside my lungs." "It doesn't mean that. When did you find out that it didn't mean that?" "Oh, um, like... a few days ago." "A FEW DAYS AGO?!" 12) "So, I did something." "What did you do?" "I should preface by saying I am not smart." "What. Did. You. Do?" 13) "Just shaved a cat to look like a lion with a mane." "That's so stupid, why would you do that?" "Why don't you look at the results first?" 14) "I beat all of Super Mario World and found every single secret." "When's the last time you slept?" "Last time I what?" 15) "Why are you all twitchy?" "I just mixed every energy drink from the gas station with pixie sticks." "Jesus, we're going to the hospital." 16) "I know eating cheese makes you constipated and everything, but like, how much cheese? I don't want to be constipated so what's the maximum amount I can eat without that happening." 17) "Don't freak out, but I'm in jail." "JAIL?!" "It's all a big misunderstanding!" 18) "Can I tell you something without you getting mad?" "You always ask me this and I always get mad." "Yeah, but like, maybe this time you could just...not get mad?" 19) "You are the human equivalent of the smiley face emoji." "Aww! Thank you." "It wasn't a compliment." 20) "You look like you eat sunshine and shit rainbows." "Actually I eat Lucky Charms. Well, just the charms actually with like a little bit of the lucky bit." "You're so positive it sickens me." 21) "I love Thanksgiving." "Yikes. Why?" "Because I get to have dinner with all my friends and family. There's no pressure to buy gifts or anything. We all just come together and appreciate each other." "I could put everything you've ever said on a Hallmark card." 22) "Do you know how much I love you?" "You send me every heart emoji before bed and end it with a kissy face with the words 'I love you' every night. I think I get it." "I'll start doing it every morning just to be sure." 23) "You know how in Inside Out there's all the different little people that represent each emotion?" "Yeah, I love that movie!" "Yeah, I think your Joy emotion person killed your Sad emotion person." "What? No! She wouldn't do that!" " 24) "You have to stop crying every time this scene in the movie comes up." "He thinks she doesn't love him!" "It's just Shrek. You've seen how it ends, you can quote it for fuck's sake!" "I know but he doesn't know right now!" "Oh my god." 25) "I swallowed the key to Person A's car." "Oh my god why would you do that?" "I thought it'd be funny but now I'm worried about it." "Oh now you're worried about it?"

Yellow 1) "I heard everyone survived, is that true?" "Yes, everyone's fine." "Pity." 2) "If being classy means being mean to everyone who's considered to be beneath you then I must be the classiest bitch in the whole fucking world." 3) "I don't think you're beneath me, I know you are." 4) "A piece of advice I'll give to you for free. Stay out of my way unless you'd like to be crushed under my foot." 5) "Hmm, I wonder which shoes I should wear to stomp on the dreams of others today." 6) "Don't cry on me, this jacket is worth more than your car!" 7) "Oh no, I won. Aww! And you wanted it so bad, didn't you?" 8) "You know, in duos it's usually one's the beauty and one's the brains but in our case I guess I really lucked out, didn't I?" 9) "Don't think for a second I'm interested in you, I'm only speaking to you because I have to." 10) "They took something that was mine. And now I have to kill them." 11) "I was scheduled to ruin someone's life today, but I guess I can save that for another time. Let's hang out!" 12) "I know that person, their significant other made my friend cry so I slept with their boyfriend/girlfriend and made them fall in love with me. I can't wait to be there when they tell them they're leaving them for me." 13) "You need good friends, people who will watch out for you and help you handle your problems." 14) "Listen here, you little shit, I've worked hard to get this perfect so if you fuck it up I will destroy everything you love." 15) "Oh, how cute! You think you're a threat to me." 16) "Next time you try to threaten me remember who you're dealing with. Because I don't do threats, I make promises. And when I promised I'd ruin your life I intended to keep that promise." 17) "Oh my god, here comes that insufferable bitc-Hi! Oh my god, I haven't seen you in forever, you look so good!" 18) "Oh, gag me with a fucking spoon. If I have to listen to you idiots try to talk and breathe at the same time I'm going to jump in front of a fucking bus." 19) "Move! I'll handle it just like I handle everything, with grace and vague threats." 20) "What do you mean they're in love with me? Did they say that word for word? Because you know I'm in love with them so if this is a trick it's not funny and I'll fucking kill you. Did they say that word for word?" 21) "I only have strengths I don't have weaknesses." 22) "They called me heartless? I'm not heartless! I'm nice. I'm so fucking nice. I'm going to prove how fucking nice I am and then they're going to look like an idiot for saying that!" 23) "Stop crying. You look fucking pathetic and you're not pathetic because I don't have pathetic friends. So keep your head up, bury your feelings, and act like the goddamn champion you are." 24) "Don't speak, you could make the town idiot feel like a genius." 25) "Stop acting like a loser or you're not allowed to stand next to me anymore."

Green 1) "Well, look at that, we're all alone. So, anything you wanna say to me? Anything you wanna do to me?" 2) "Of course I have sex for money, you think I'd just give all this away for free?" 3) "What do you mean I can't wear this to the funeral? It's my mourning crop top." 4) "How's my outfit?" "Hideous. You should shred it and then burn it just to be safe." 5) "Ew, what do you want?" 6) "I'm gonna need you to not stand next to me at this party, I don't want anyone thinking we came together." 7) "Does this make me look slutty?" "Not at all, it's very modest for you actually." "Ew, okay, I'm gonna go change." 8) "Why are you putting on glitter? We're going to a toddler's birthday party." "Look, if you wanna look like that that's your choice. I plan on looking like I hunt mythical creatures for a living." 9) "The robbers took everything in my house." "Yeah, but they left your clothes so what do you think that says about them?" 10) "I thought you hated the thrift store." "I did, I thought it was a very sad little place, but then I started designing my own outfit with all the decent things they sell and so now I love the thrift store." 11) "They broke up with you? You?! No, I don't think so. Come with me, we're going to fix you and you're going to show them what they're missing." 12) "They might have more money than me but I'm the one who has clear skin and the ability to not look like trash." 13) "A choker can be something that says it all. It can say 'I'm fun and I love hanging out with my friends' but it can also say 'I only have rough sex' you know?" 14) "You're not my type." "You haven't even turned around to see me." "Didn't need to. I could smell that cheap cologne/perfume from a mile away." "What is your type?" "Rich." 15) "What are you doing?" "Eating take out and watching porn." "What kind of porn?" "Bondage porn." "Oh, that kind of day, huh? Should I come over?" "No, I'll just try to sleep wit you." "You do that even when you're not sad." "Okay, you can come over." 16) "Where are you going with my keys?" "I've got to kill someone." "Okay, make sure you don't get blood on my seats." 17) "No, highlight yellow and highlighter orange are not real colors. Okay? Are you a hunter trying not to get shot or a construction worker? No, you're not. You're trying to seduce someone. So lets get rid of this monstrosity and find something that'll make your eyes look pretty." 18) "I love you very much and it's because I love you that I can say this. Please don't wear that outfit or you will embarrass me." 19) "You just kissed me." "Yeah, I did." "Why? Did I seem like I was drowning or that I needed mouth to mouth? Were you trying to kill a bug with your lips? Why would you kiss me?" "I like you. A lot." "Hahaha...wait, seriously?" "Why's that so hard to believe?" "Because I'm me, people don't like me, they just like looking at me." "Well, I like you. A lot. And if you like me maybe we could get some dinner later or something." "Okay!" 20) "Oh my god, is that a skort? I think I might vomit. Skorts are for children, not adults. Once you hit eighteen you are legally banned from wearing skorts unless you play tennis or something. Do you play tennis? No. I didn't think so. Burn that." 21) "Camo is disgusting and if I ever catch any of you wearing it we are no longer friends." 22) "Your shorts are a little too short." "Yeah? You like it?" "You're attracting a lot of attention." "But am I attracting your attention?" 23) "Oh, wow, that's a bright shade of yellow. Um, why don't we try a few different outfits for fun before we decide on that one, okay?" 24) "Hey, I came as fast as I could, where's the body?" "Actually, I called you for a--you came here prepared to hide a body with me?" "Of course I did, you're my best friend." "Aww!" 25) "I only have sex for free when I like someone, and for you, honey? It'll cost triple what I normally charge."

Blue 1) "I heard the pet store got new puppies and kittens, wanna go see them with me?" 2) "We should go ice skating!" 3) "I love having picnics with you, you always bring my favorite foods." 4) "I love spending time with you." 5) "I think I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." 6) "Are you cold? You can wear my jacket if you want!" 7) "I don't want any of that stuff. I just want you. I've always wanted you." 8) "I wonder what it's like to hug a cloud." "Your hands would go right through it." "Yeah, but I've always wanted to touch one." 9) "Is it okay if we stay a little longer?" "We can stay until close if you'd like." "I just really like looking at the fish." "I know." 10) "Could you hug me for like an hour?" "Yeah, okay, wanna watch a movie while we do that or?" 11) "We have to leave right now. The Easter Bunny is at the store up the road and they're doing pictures." "You're an adult." "Please!!!" "Fine. We can go sit on the employee dressed in a rabbit suit's lap." "Yay! Thank you!" 12) "You can't eat that much cotton candy, you'll make yourself sick." "But it's good!" "You'll get a cavity." 13) "Can we go to the fair?" "We're not riding the toddler rides again. People gave us so many dirty looks last year." "But what about the teacups?" "We can ride the teacups, but none of the other kid ones." 14) "Can we shoot fireworks this year?" "You hate the ones with loud noises." "Yeah, but I like looking at them." "I'll buy earmuffs for you." 15) "Can we paint the side room." "Sure, what color?" "I was thinking like maybe a purple or green. Maybe all the colors." "Like a rainbow room? Why would we do the whole room?" "It'd be fun, it'd be cute for a side room or an office, maybe a baby room." "Baby room?" "Maybe. I mean, if you like that idea." "I think it's a great idea." 16) "Can we get a dog?" "You're an adult, if you want a dog you don't have to ask me." "Yeah, but it's your house too so..." "Yes, we can get a dog. We can go to the shelter tomorrow." 17) "So, I was thinking maybe we could have our wedding during the spring or maybe the summer." "You have bad allergies during those times." "Yeah, but I was thinking we could get fake flowers and I could take some allergy medication and it could still look like a spring or a summer wedding." "I'll start looking at fake flowers." "I'll check venues." 18) "Why are you up so early?" "Look outside! It's snowing!!!" "And you woke me up so we could play in it?" "Uh huh." "One hour and then you let me go back to sleep." "I'll go get my gloves!!" 19) "We have to go to the zoo." "You hate the zoo, you said you don't like seeing animals in cages." "I know but the goats just gave birth to baby goats and they're finally letting them out to be pet today!" 20) "I dream about flying all the time but I never thought I'd actually get to do it." 21) "Thanks for tonight, I had a really great time with you. I hope we can do it again soon." 22) "We should move in together. I mean, if you want." 23) "I don't want to lose you, and it took me a while to realize but I know what I want now. Will you marry me?" 24) "I wouldn't trade you for all the gold, silver, gems, or all the most expensive things in the world." 25) "You really are the love of my life."

Indigo 1) "They're obnoxious and loud and stupid and I can't believe I'm in love with them." 2) "You may be a star but you'll never be as big a star as VY Canis Majoris." 3) "The most fucked up thing I ever learned was that Luna moths don't have mouths or a digestive tract because their sole purpose is to mate. So they live for a week and then die because they starve to death." 4) "I think you have more outfits than you have IQ points." 5) "Can you just stop doing...whatever it is you're doing for like ten minutes." 6) "God you're so annoying, just stop breathing. Please? Just stop." 7) "I wish I were a plant, I wouldn't have to talk or think or do all this shit. I'd just have to soak up sunlight, soak up rain, and take in carbon dioxide. Being a plant really is the fucking dream." 8) "Hey, I heard Person A broke up with you. That sucks. So, um, do you think I could get my Chemistry book?" 9) "Are you still upset about your break up with Person A? You shouldn't be, I've seen their family members, they don't age well. But, um, that neighbor of yours, the cute one, their family looks pretty good. And with your genes you two would have some above average looking children." "Thank you?" "You're welcome." 10) "You know, you're terrible at giving advice." "Yeah, well, I'm not used to being around other humans." "Maybe just say people. Calling other people humans is kind of...weird." "Noted." 11) "Do you want to come to a party with me tonight?" "To what? Drink, embarrass myself, have to listen to terrible music, and interact with people I don't even like?" "Yes." "Pass. I'd rather be here studying plants." 12) "Would you like to go out sometime, on like a date?" "Sure, I guess. You just set up the blind date and I'll do my best. Though, maybe you could find me someone who at least can carry on a conversation with me." "No, I mean would you want to go out on a date with me?" "With you? Why would you want to date me? Don't you have plenty of other options?" "I like you." "We wouldn't work out. You and I are too different. You are good looking and nice and deserve someone who's like you. You don't want someone like me anyways. Besides I'd bore you to death before the appetizers came out." 13) "I care about you." "You? Thought you didn't care about anyone." "I don't. Usually. But I think the reason I care so much is because I like you." "You like me?" "Yeah, it's um... it's a new feeling for sure." 14) "What they said back there. You're not a robot." "No, I am. They're right. It's hard for me to be like the others. I didn't grow up having friends so I didn't know what it was like to care about anything other than school or projects." "You care about me. You said you care about me. Is that true." "Of course it's true." "Then you're not a robot." 15) "You kissed me back there. Why did you do that?" "I was testing a hypothesis." "Oh yeah? What was your hypothesis." "You would kiss me back if I kissed you." "And the results?" "Well, if worked the first time. But a good scientists always checks their work to be sure, right?" "That's correct, yes." 16) "Have you ever kissed anyone?" "I've done a lot of things." "Have you had sex?" "Yes, but it was purely for research. I wanted to know what certain things felt like and what certain things would do for others." "Only you could manage to make sex sound so boring." 17) "Hey, I was--are you watching porn?" "I'm researching for an experiment." "What kind? You gonna see what happens when you put your hand down your pants to that?" "No, I was studying to see if I could tell the difference between a real orgasm and a fake one." "If you wanted to study that you could have just asked me." 18) "Do you think I should socialize more?" "Since when do you care what I think? You're the one with a billion degrees." "Well, you're better with people than I am." 19) "You're hugging me." "Yeah. It's what friends do, they hug." "It's, um, nice. I think." 20) "Yesterday I felt the urge to hug the mailman. Isn't that weird?" "Did you hug the mailman?" "No." "Then it's not that weird. Probably just your body telling you it needs to be touched physically, you know?" "What?" "You crave physical touch." 21) "I think I'm lonely." "Yeah, I think you are too." "Should I start dating?" "Do you want to date?" "Not particularly." "Then maybe just try getting friends." 22) "If I have to spend another evening with that idiot I might lose it." "Is this because they thought photosynthesis had to do with photography?" "Don't remind me." 23) "We're having dinner with my friends tonight." "They hate me." "They don't hate you, you're just smarter than all of them combined." 24) "I can't talk to Person A, they tried to ask me about plant cells and actually thought that I was talking about a cellphone made of plants." "They're not very good at Science, but they like you a lot an they're trying to find ways to talk to you. It's cute. You should give them a chance. Take them to a Science museum." "Like, the ones for kids?" "Yeah. They'll love it." "Fine, but if it starts to go bad I'm texting you to call me and say there's an emergency so I can get out of it." "As long as you give it a try." 25) "They're in love with you, you know? Why do you ruin all your chances at love?" "Because sometimes I'm not sure I'm capable of feeling it."

Violet 1) "You smell like desperation. That a new cologne/perfume or is that just you?" 2) "I'm not here to play nice, I'm here to protect your ass because you couldn't follow simple instructions!" 3) "God, you are so annoying. I can't believe I have to put up with you for six months." 4) "Get your shit, we're getting out of here. I'm not leaving you in this hellhole, alright? Pack your stuff, you're coming with me." 5) "Are we gonna be a family?" "Let's not call it that, let's call it I'm taking care of you for a while alright?" "For how long?" "For as long as you want me to." 6) "Are you gonna be my mom/dad?" "WOAH! No. Absolutely not. I'll be your guardian, okay? And it's only temporary." 7) "Goddamn it, kid, wake up! You can't annoy the shit out of me for months and make me care about you just so you can die like this. I'm not allowing it. Come on, get up, kid. If you get up I'll take you to that Funland place you wanted to go. Anywhere you wanna go. I'll be better to you. I'll...fuck! I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. I'll teach you how to ride a bike and be there for you when you do Science fairs and shit. I'll be your mom/dad." 8) "You're stupid trying to save me like that. You can't swim." "You never taught me how to." "Yeah, well, I'm gonna teach you when we get out of here." 9) "You're evil and manipulative and you're mean and I kinda love that about you, kid. You remind me of me. If you want a place to sleep and food you don't have to dig out of the trash you can stay with me as long as you want." 10) "Can I get a motorcycle?" "Absolutely not, kid. As long as I'm alive the only two wheel thing you'll be riding on is a fucking bicycle." "Well, can I get a bicycle?" "Yeah, we can steal you one later." 11) "You might be the most annoying person I've ever met in the world but I'd die for you." 12) "If you ever come near me or my family I'll fucking kill you. I will bury you in a shallow grave and leave you as food for the worms. Do you understand me?" 13) "You're not going to die here because I'm gonna protect you." 14) "Hey, you trust me don't you?" "Yeah." "Good, you're going to have to disguise yourself. And whatever you do keep your head down, don't talk, and don't let go of me, okay?" 15) "Hey short stack." "You came for me?" "Course I did, did you really think I'd leave you behind?" 16) "I'm coming with you." "You're not." "I am and you can't stop me." "I can handcuff you to that bench over there and leave Person A the keys." "...well I would appreciate if you didn't do that." 17) "Hey there, stranger, haven't seen you in a while." "What the fuck are you doing here?" "Is that really how you greet your best friend?" 18) "Out of my way." "You'll die if you go in there." "And you'll die if I don't go in there." 19) "I'm always gonna be here for you, you know that? 20) "Woah, what's wrong, why are you crying?" "You'll be leaving after this." "Come here, I'm not leaving you after this. I'm staying here with you. Did you really think I'd leave you here all alone? You can barely make toast." 21) "Hey, you can't run off like that again, do you hear me?" "Yeah, whatever-" "No! No, you don't get to whatever me about this. You could have fucking died out there. So you look me in the eye and you promise me you're never going to do that again!" "I-I promise I'll never do it again!" 22) "Look, I'm not your parent so I'm not going to tell you what to do, but that kid you're hanging around is bad news. I've seen their arrest record, you shouldn't be hanging around them. I know they're nice right now but people like that take advantage of nice. I would know. I used to be like them." 23) "I love you. More than anything in the world and that's why I train so hard. I have to train harder because now I have to be stronger. Because now I finally have something worth fighting for." 24) "You can't come with me. You're staying here." "I want to fight!" "You're sick. You need to stay here with Person A, take some medicine, and get some rest." 25) "Hey, watch your mouth, no one talks like that in front of my kid!"

#175 dialogue prompts #color prompts #25 prompts for each color #dialogue prompts #prompts #writer #write #writing prompts #fic prompts #fic inspiration #fic writing

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hisunshiine · 3 years

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Escape ✈︎ Chapter 6

✈︎ chapter 6: But I Still Want You Pt. 1 | ✈︎ Escape Series — 18+, Mature

✈︎ genre: angst

✈︎ word count: 1898 words

✈︎ pairing: Jin x YN

✈︎ warnings: personal issues with abandonment, YN is a foster child, healthy attachment issues, crying

✈︎ summary: It's time for you to make your decision about the island: stay or go? Some people make the decision harder for you than it should be.

You can’t believe that you won the GA and were invited to Bangtania Island, not to mention that once you arrived here, you were let in on the secret that this is also a secret getaway location for the guys?! You truly love it here, and feel so accepted and appreciated by everyone, like you have a family and friends again. The life you left behind wasn’t much of a life so to say. You worked a basic job, you had no family, having been a foster child your whole life, and you had no real connection with anybody. When you found BTS and Army, that was the closest you ever felt to having family.

Unfortunately, having the life you’ve had, you begin to feel yourself wanting to isolate again. Nobody has actually done anything to make you feel you need to, but you are afraid of being abandoned. You’ve always had that fear, been afraid that people will leave you, so you put up walls so that people don’t get too close. You also tend to run from anybody that tries and gets too close, unsure of their reasons. You weren’t putting out any signs that you wanted people close, so you thought, so you were wary of anyone who tried to breach the walls you had built. It was safer that way. When people made attempts to get closer than you wanted them to, that was your cue to jump ship. It was better to leave them.

You have dated, but as soon as they try to get too intimate, and not in the sexual way, you run away. Sex, that was easy. Growing up with your circumstances, you weren’t ever taught the same ideals about virginity and sex like people who were from ‘loving’ families appeared to be. No mom and dad trying to convince you that sex was sacred, or meant for just one person for your entire life. You had the normal education, very cut and dry, and scientific. Penis, meet vagina: insert here. And as you got older you learned it could also be penis meet anus, or vagina meet vagina, or mouth meet anus, mouth meet penis, and the oh so wonderful mouth meet vagina. So being physical with someone wasn’t deemed as intimate as actually letting people into who you were. What your thoughts and feelings were. It was that level of opening up and letting people in that was scary. You knew this from childhood that it’s a lot less painful when you decide to walk away, versus someone walking away from you.

It’s currently your twelfth day here. And now you only have two more days to decide whether you want to stay or head back to your life of unattached isolation. You have truly enjoyed your time here thus far, there really is the feeling of peace and serenity, able to share in the familiar love with everyone of BTS. That’s a safe area for you. Love for BTS can’t hurt you. At the same time, you still feel a sense of solidarity, like you are surrounded by people yet you still feel alone. You decide you are going to hurry to the restaurant to get something to-go before you head back to your temporary living quarters.

On the way there, you remember the first time you saw Jin in person.

“So here is a map of the island, everything is color-coded and in the map key. I think your first agenda should be to unpack and then meet us down at Jin’s restaurant.” Vanessa hands you your map and copies of your NDA and other rules and regulations to be followed on the island.

Once you unpack your belongings, you take a short detour before heading to the restaurant. You are enchanted by the happiness of everyone that is here, enjoying the private island, and the guys. You haven’t really witnessed any arguments or issues, and that brings you solace, but you still keep your guard up.

When you enter the restaurant, Talia notices you and waves you over to their booth, “Hey! Y/N! Over here! We almost ordered without you.” She laughed, then introduced you to Dahlia and Xael.

You all order your food and carry on with small talk, you ask questions about different activities you saw in your guide for the island, and then you see him. Jin came walking out of the kitchen, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel. He was talking to one of the residents that helps him out in the restaurant.

He turned his head and your eyes met, it seemed like an eternity, but it only lasted about 10 seconds. He smiled, you blushed, then he went back into the kitchen.

When your food was ready, Jin made sure to help your waitress bring your food to the table. “Hello ladies,” he said with a gentle smile, blushing when he looks at you. “A new arrival I see. Well I am Seokjin, the Bangtania Island Chef. If you are ever hungry, come to my restaurant, if I’m not here, the you can come to the dorm...I mean, when we have parties, I always cook for that as well. Anyway, enjoy your meals ladies,” he winks at you as he places your plate in front of you.

How could you know that would lead to you eating there everyday, just to steal a glance of him, or have him smile and wink at you. All of the silent and distant flirting, that you feel would never go anywhere, and you want to keep it that way.

You walk into the restaurant and stand at the to-go counter, but it’s pretty quiet. You have been waiting for about 10 minutes, being consumed by your thoughts, until the grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you are waiting to order food. You are surprised that nobody has come to help you, especially since the whole time that you’ve been in Bangtania everyone has been super helpful and attentive. But then you get worried, so you head behind the counter to check the kitchen. Maybe Jin closed early and forgot to lock up, you aren’t sure, you just want to make sure everything is okay.

You open the swinging door to the kitchen, probably with a little too much force in your worried state.

“Whoa, whoa!”

It’s all you hear before the pile of dishes crashes to the floor, causing you to scream.

“Jin-ah I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you, I was just here to order food to-go, and --”

He cuts you off.

“Frighten me? You were the one who was scared! Hahaha! I was just putting these dishes away and you swung the door into me.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and you try to hold them back but they begin streaming down your face.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t have to cry. I’m not mad, we have many more dishes to replace these ones. Just please don’t cry.”

He grabs a clean towel from the shelf and begins to softly blot the tears from your cheeks. He has a look on his face of worry, as if your sudden tears were a shock to him. You reckon they were. You drop your head in embarrassment, though he softly grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger and lifts your head back up. Your eyes meet his brown ones, taking in the way that his eyebrows are furrowed together, his lips softly parted creating his beautiful look of concern directed towards you.

“I told you, I’m not mad, now clean your face and help me pick this up. Then we can sit and have a meal together. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and that is a long time for me, you know?”

You giggle, because you do know. Jin loves to eat.

After you finish salvaging the dishes that did not break and sweeping up the ones that did, Jin says he has something special to make you. You make your way to a booth in the corner of the restaurant furthest from the windows, the most secluded booth in the whole restaurant. When Jin comes out with a tray, he scans the restaurant for you.

“Y/N?” His voice is loud, trying to find you.

“Did she leave? After I made her this delicious food, she runs off?” You hear him mutter under his breath, but not low enough that you don’t hear him.

When he turns to head back to the kitchen, he sees you sitting in the hidden booth, shoulders bounce from giggling so hard.

“You think that’s funny? I make this food and you have me to believe you left? Oh, hahaha…” He laughs with you as he sets the food on the table. He pulls off his apron and joins you at the booth, you both begin eating in silence. After a while he asks, “Y/N, you’ve been here almost two weeks, what do you think so far?”

You shove a dumpling in your mouth, as you are not ready to answer that question. He smiles encouragingly, his bee-stung lips surrounding his perfect smile, and you feel yourself wanting to open up. But you can’t. You only want to show him your best side. I guess that’s something you have in common with them.

“Oh, it’s great! You guys really spoil us here.”

He nods, happy to hear your positive feedback, not realizing it’s shallow. You want to elaborate. The words are on the tip of your tongue to tell him that yes, they spoil you here and you love it, but a part of you is scared to really fall in love with it, to truly believe you’ve found a place you can call home that has a new family that’s perfect for you already waiting. Who gets that lucky in life? Not you. So you tuck away your fears, and keep it surface level with him.

The rest of your night was lovely; it was easy to tuck away the thoughts that had been so prominent before spending time with Jin. He was someone who tried his best to make sure that everyone was comfortable. You had known this about him since prior to meeting him, watching him on RunBTS and Bon Voyage, he had that caring, nurturing way about him that drew you in, and made everything appear better in the aura he cast out. He made it easy, which you knew would make it that much harder.

That night you lay awake long past the last sounds of your housemate have dissipated and watch as the ceiling fan circles and circles. You always thought that it was safe, that loving BTS was safe. Friends over the internet, they didn’t have to know you completely. You could take days off and come back when you wanted, no one really depending on you. No one actually knows your deepest secrets and thoughts. Those were kept safely tucked away, behind lock and key deep within your heart.

You could have sworn that love for BTS couldn’t hurt you. Hindsight is definitely 20/20, as you lay curled on your side, looking out the window at the reflection of the moon on the ocean, tears streaming down onto your pillow, it hurts.

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angst-fairygodmother · 4 years

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One shot? Klaus hargreeves x best friend! Reader where her sleeve slips down and he notices her scars. She rushes off and aviods him for the rest of the day until he corners her and she tries to push past him but he won't let her and he confronts her about it? If it's alright with you may i ask that you make it long and Fluffy? . Thank you 👉👈🥺

A/N: Thank you for your request Nonny. I’ll admit this was a pretty heavy topic, and I wasn’t sure how comfortable I felt with it, because it’s one that takes a lot of care in how it’s approached. But I gave it a try and I hope that it’s good. Word Count: 1312 Content Warnings: T - depression, self-harm, past self-harm, self hatred, destructive behaviors, references to drug use. If anything in how I have written this is insensitive or grossly inaccurate, please let me know (politely) and I will work to correct it.

‘Stupid,’ you scolded yourself. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid. Never should have let your guard down like that. What were you thinking?’

Your eyes stung with tears as you stormed away down the street, leaving the diner and your best friend in your wake, him probably as distressed as you were.

‘If he doesn’t just hate you now,’ you continued to insult yourself for your perceived self-failing. ‘Probably thinks you’re pathetic and weak and wants nothing to do with you.’

You and Klaus had been friends for years and told each other practically everything. But this had been one secret you kept from him, kept from everyone. Part of it was out of guilt: what right did you have to feel this way when your pain was nothing compared to everything he had been through. Another part was out of shame, out of fear that he would look at you, like so many did, in pity.

And now suddenly your secret was out with one little misstep. You had reached across the diner table to steal a bite of his food, as you so often did when the two of you got breakfast together. But this time your long sleeve had snagged, the edge of it sliding upward in what felt like an instant and slow motion at the same time, revealing the careful lines like ladders marching up the inside of your wrist toward your elbow, years’ worth of moments where the world had been too much and the sting of a razor was all you had.

Klaus’s green eyes had widened to a roundness that would have been almost comical in a different situation. His mouth opened to speak, but before he could you were up from the table and running out the door, trying to put as much distance between yourself and the revelation as possible, even if you couldn’t get your mind off of it.

The rest of the day had been spent seeking distractions that would keep you both out of your home and out of Klaus’s path. You didn’t want to see him; you didn’t want to know what he thought of you now. And he hadn’t seemed to be looking for you, which part of you took as a good sign even as you ached with the potential of losing your best friend.

Finally you decided it was safe to go home, planning out your evening with reheated boxed mac and cheese and curling up in your bed under a pile of blankets to cry until you fell asleep. Unfortunately, when you got home, he was sitting on your couch, the curtains of your living room window fluttering in the breeze behind him.

“Y/N, hey,” he said, standing to approach you. “I was wondering when you’d get back.”

You shoved past him, bee-lining for your room and slamming the door in his face behind you. It wasn’t until the lock had flipped that you let yourself release the sob you had been holding back.

You had taken the fact that he hadn’t chased you down when you left the diner as a sign that he wasn’t going to, that he was going to just write you off and disappear, as he should have, as so many people had before. You thought he would be just one more scar at the end of the day. In reality, he had done so much worse. He had stayed. He had sat and carefully laid a trap, waiting for you to vulnerable and lulled into the strange sense of security that your aloneness brought.

You wanted him to leave.

You wanted him to hug you close, folding his whole body around yours in that unique way of his, and tell you it would be alright.

You wanted…you hoped he understood. You had just wanted the world to stop hurting, and his method of numbing it all had never worked for you, so you found your own.

You were so scared of what he might say, so you wanted him not to say anything at all just as much as you wanted him to tell you it was okay.

“Y/N?” he called, and you could tell from the way his voice was muffled that he was sitting outside your door, cheek pressed to it, probably giving you those sad, all-knowing eyes.

“Go away Klaus,” you sniffled, brushing angrily at the tears coursing down your cheeks.

“Not until you talk to me. I need to know you’re alright.”

You sighed, shooting a half-hearted glare at him through the wood before you got up off the mattress where you had face-planted and opened the door. The lack of warning meant that he nearly toppled over when you did and you couldn’t help cracking a slight smile.

“There you are,” he said softly, standing up and brushing a hand over your cheek to wipe away your tears. “You had me scared there for a second.”

You raised an eyebrow at him in question.

“It’s not often I have people fleeing to avoid being in the same room as me. Usually they just want to be closer,” he drawled with a joking smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Klaus…I…”

“You don’t need to explain it to me if you don’t want to, Y/N. I mean, I’m hurt that you wouldn’t trust me, your very best friend forever, and tell me about something like this. But I also understand.”

The way his voice cracked on the last word made you swallow thickly, knowing just how much that statement was true. You had lost count of the number of times you had held him and helped him through his suffering, the highs and the withdrawals, the ghosts, the torture his father subjected him to in the name of ‘improving’ his powers. If you had reached out to him at any point, he would have been there in an instant, but the darkness you felt was strangling, suffocating, keeping you silent and cutting off your voice.

You pressed your lips together in a thin line and shook your head. “I couldn’t Klaus, I just…”

His arms raised, silently offering without presuming and you tucked yourself between them, pressing your face to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. He rested his cheek against your head and you breathed deeply, calming more the longer he held you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you mumbled eventually. “And that I ran out on breakfast and stuck you to the foot the bill…”

He laughed and you felt the vibration of it through your whole body. “We can never go back there by the way, I didn’t pay.”

You couldn’t help joining his laughter or rolling your eyes. “Of course you didn’t. And they had such good hash browns.”

Eventually you found your way back to the couch, him practically sprawled on top of you while music played softly in the background, everything feeling back to normal. As one song faded into the next, he picked his head up to look you in the eye.

“Can I ask you something?” he said softly.

Your blood rushed in your ears and your heart raced fearfully of what his question might be, but hesitantly, you nodded.

“Are you…I mean…are those…recent?” he asked, ashamed of his own question, of his need to know, and afraid of what your answer might be.

“Well no. It’s been…two years since I actually…but the temptation has been there once or twice,” you admitted.

He frowned, eyebrows knitting together and you longed to smooth away the worry wrinkle there.

“I want to help. You’ve been there for me through my shit…will you…tell me if you’re ever feeling like that again?”

“I…can’t promise that Klaus. But I appreciate that you’re willing to…stay. And I’ll try.”

He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“That’s good enough for me.”

#tw: self harm #tw: self deprecation #fic request #Klaus Hargreeves x reader #The Umbrella Academy fic #reader insert #platonic Klaus x Reader

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bardofthursdays · 4 years

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Geralt accidentally calls Jaskier Dandelion :))

Hey! This is the first fic I’ve posted on tumblr, I had this idea and just needed to write it down haha. There’s a bIT of angst on Jaskiers part but mostly fluff hehe, anyhoo hope you enjoy...

The bard really was a fucking idiot. Geralt thought to himself, watching him as he swatted at a bee, a hint of a smile on the witcher’s lips, he really didn’t smile often but when he was around Jaskier he often found he couldn’t help it.

“Are you alright, Jaskier?” He asked gruffly, the bard yelping as the bee flew closer.

“Yes, yes, it’s just a bEEeE” The man’s voice rose a few pitches as the bee smacked him in the face. In an instant he was running over to the witcher screaming “GERALT GeraLT HELP ME-” He then proceeded to trip over his own feet and fall flat on his face. Geralt chuckled at this, walking over to check he was ok. The smile was wiped from his face as the strong scent of blood hit him.

“Jaskier” He hissed, rolling the bard over to assess his injuries. He sighed as he realized it was just a bloody nose. The bard sniffled, a tear falling, his sky blue eyes cloudy. He smelled of fear, genuine fear. Geralt wondered why a bee would garner such a reaction. The bard was braver than he looked, befriending a witcher was a sure sign of that. He may be an idiot, but he was tough, Geralt respected that.

“I’m s-sorry I know I’m a w-wuss I just-” another tear fell as he sat up, wrapping his arms around his legs. The man was shaking. “When I was a child, I was stung by a bee, turns out I’m terribly allergic and I- well I almost died, I couldn’t breathe my throat closed up I-” He buried his face in his arms. A sob escaping his throat. The story reminded Geralt of the incident with the Djinn, sending a twinge of guilt down the witcher’s spine. After all it was his wish that had caused it. He put a hand on the bard’s shoulder wearily, soft blue eyes darting up to meet his. “You aren’t a wuss, you are completely valid in feeling scared, especially after...” He couldn’t even say it.

“The Djinn” Jaskier finished wiping his eyes roughly as if his tears had betrayed him. “Gods Geralt I just-” Another sob escaped him, a wretched sound that grated at geralt’s heart until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled the bard close, wrapping his arms around him protectively.

“It’s ok, it’s going to be alright I promise, you know I’d never let any harm come to you- never again” He wasn’t sure why he was saying all this, his tongue loosened by the jarring sight of his bard crying. Jaskier shook violently, his face buried in Geralts shoulder. Waves of sadness were coming off of him, the scent overwhelming. He knew the man’s childhood had been rough, he may be a royal but that doesn’t mean he lived a cushy life. He never out and out said it but that was proof in itself. The fact that Jaskier never spoke of it showed the memories can’t be pleasant ones. Geralt was sure there was more to this bee story but he couldn’t focus enough to ask about it. The scent of sadness, pain and blood flooded his senses, he hated it. He didn’t process the words until they were out of his mouth. “Kind of funny, my Dandelion afraid of a bee” The bard stilled, looking up at him with red rimmed eyes.

“wh- you” A smile broke out on the man’s face. Fuck, what did he just say “d-dandelion? YOUR dandelion? Geralt I never knew you cared” he said, smirking

“Shut up bard” he snapped, but, he did care, no matter how hard he tried not to. Jaskier of course paid no attention to his apparent anger, seeing right through it. It was so fucking obnoxious when he did that. He was smiling, tears still drying, bloody nose forgotten. Why was he acting like this? “What?” he snapped.

“Oh nothing, just, realized something. Anyway I’m injured terribly, I may not make it Geralt, I must be attended to immediatly.” The bard’s voice was thick with sarcasm and feigned sadness. Geralt rolled his eyes, why was he like this. Despite his annoyance, he got up, the bard whining as he unwrapped his arms. He turned to hide his smile, unsure of why the man wanting his touch made him so happy. He grabbed a cloth and some water from his bag. Kneeling in front of the Bard to start wiping away the blood. He could have easily done this himself but Geralt found he liked helping him. Once the blood was cleaned, he examined the nose, touching it gingerly.

“It isn’t broken, I’m afraid you’ll live to see another day my friend” He said, biting back with his own sarcasm, something he never did before Jaskier. That’s how he’d started thinking of things, everything was before or after Jaskier, why did he change everything, how could one annoying bard change his entire life? He didn’t understand it. He noticed the bard was uncharacteristically quiet, staring down at his hands, hints of fear reappeared.

“What’s wrong Jaskier” he asked. The man slowly looked up, moving his hand to rest on top of Geralt’s. He inhaled sharply at the sudden display of affection.

“Oh Geralt, you idiot” He whispered. Before he could retort, the Bard leaned forward, closing the gap between them. Soft, rosy lips pressed against his. His heart fluttered in his chest, frozen at first but slowly leaning into it. He laced his fingers behind the man’s neck, the soft hairs at the nape of his neck tickling him. As he began to kiss back, Jaskier groaned softly, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against the witcher’s. “You have, no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” The bard said, lacing his fingers into Geralt’s.

“Me too” He admitted “I didn’t fully realize until now but-” He couldn’t bring himself to finish as those stupid blue eyes met his, flicking down to his lips in a motion probably undetectable to a human. But he noticed, and before he knew it he was pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his bard’s mouth, his cheekbone, his eyelashes, breathing in his familiar scent. He smelled of wildflowers and spices and fresh rain on grass. “What changed, how- how did you know?” He asked, tilting his chin up with his thumb.

“Well, no one’s called me Dandelion since- gods not since my m-” He paused smiling sadly “As you know my- my original name is not Jaskier, it seems you’ve worked out the translation, do you speak polish?- Oh who am I kidding of course you do” He sighed, seeming to realize he was rambling. “My mother used to call me Dandelion, I was always quite fond of the nickname and when it came time for a stage name it just seemed right” Geralt listened intently, this wasn’t just another one of his silly stories. He was actually telling him about his past. That showed a great amount of trust. Geralt pressed another soft kiss to his lips. Smiling.

“I’m quite fond of it as well”

#geraskier #jaskier #geraskier-fluff #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #fluff

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

Deathworlder Down

AO3

Warning for blood/violent imagery.

based on @delimeful ‘s wonderful WIBAR AU

...

Flashes.

The arena, blood on his hands, of all different colors, teeth bared, trying, begging, the other aliens to stop, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but they don’t understand or don’t believe him, and then they’re lunging and instinct takes over, and when he blinks, it’s to a puddle of pepto pink ichor and a mangled body in his hands.

…

The cell, he’s back in the cell, and they’re coming, and he wasn’t ready and Patton isn’t hiding and the door opens, and he lunges, biting, scratching, kicking, screaming, the stun batons sending lightning through his veins, spasming his muscles, and he was aware of Patton’s scream, as he’s dragged away, his pretty blood splattering across the floor, and he’s beaten, shocked, kicked, all the while hearing Patton’s anguish as his feathers were stripped from him all over again, only this time, when they throw Patton back in his cell, his eyes are empty and blank, his body broken and still, and there’s nothing left of the chirping little ampen, and there’s nothing left of himself, as he loses his mind, ripping and tearing through the wall, tearing everything in his path to shreds until a blaster goes off and shoots a hole clean through his chest.

…

He’s running. He’s on an alien planet, and he’s running, and he can hear them behind him, they’re catching up, as he tears through the brush and the trees, leading them away, away, away, from camp, and he staggers as a dart hits his neck, the world spinning on it’s axis as he goes down hard. He can feel the chains being shackled around him, the collar fastened onto his neck, and he can’t even breathe, as electricity burns his skin, from the collar, sends him into unconsciousness, and when he wakes, he’s back in the cell. And the nightmare restarts.

…

“no…” He’s walking home, it’s late, the streetlights on, as he slinks through the shortcut through the park. He hates it, but it’s the fastest way home, and he’s never had any trouble, though he’s heard stories of people getting jumped.

“No…” He winces, at a sharp pain in his neck, for a moment thinking he’d been stung by a bee or a wasp, but when he reaches to feel, a small dart comes away in his hand. He stares at it, befuddled, before he feels another sting, stumbling against a tree as the world starts to tilt, trying to stay upright. Cloaked figures, shrouded figures, language he doesn’t know, and he tried to call out for help, tried to get away, but another wash of dizziness stole his breath, and he fainted.

When he woke up, he was on the ship, in the cell.

“NO!” He jolted upright, pulse racing, breath caught in his throat, the cell, the ship, he was on the ship, needle, needle in his arm, what were they taking this time? What else could they take, they were going to sell him for parts, maybe this was finally to off him for the scientists, he felt dizzy and lightheaded, weak, disoriented, maybe the tranq patch had worn off early, maybe he had a chance to get away, maybe-

A hand, a scaled hand came into view, and he hissed, scrambling backwards, falling off the edge of the furniture he was on. One second it was the sterile room, the iron bed, the suited figures, then it was a couch, smooth walls, soft light. His vision flicked between the two and he couldn’t figure out which was the truth and which was the lie, the suited figures turning towards him, batons out, crackling with energy, the scaled figure trying to reach out, trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t and it burned, and he was dying, he was sure this is what dying felt like, as he scrambled further back, further away, hissing again as the tug pulled the needle out of his arm, pressing his hoodie sleeve against it to stop the bleeding, but the red, red, red, brought him right back, and it was everywhere, and there was too much, and it wasn’t all his, the bodies scattered across the floor, the colors blending like some macabre watercolor painting, swirling and blending and mixing and-

Touch. Touch against his shoulder. He’d curled into a ball, hands over his ears, forehead touching the floor, making himself as small as possible, trying to hide, but the noise was everywhere and they’d found him and he was going to die, going to be sold off for parts and he was so stupid-

Then the touch moved, a small, so small, hand slipping under his chin, gently tilting his head up, feathers tickling his skin, as he met those big, doe eyes. Feathers. Blue. Antennae, moth like. Fluffy. Safe.

Safe?

“Breathe, Virgil. Can you do that? In… out…” the words sounded so far away, and not quite in sync with the mouth movements, but he tried to follow them, tried to understand, tried to copy his movements. “good, kiddo. You’re doing good. Do you know who I am?” The feathery being asked, and his mind stalled. It must have shown on his face, because the being’s dropped, expression sad, and he hated that look on Patton’s face-

“Patton!” He rasped, voice barely a whisper, throat dry and sore, not helped from the hyperventilating he’d just been doing, from the panic attack. “Patton…” his eyes welled up, and he opened his arms, Patton flying into them without a second thought, hugging him as wide as he could around his chest, Virgil careful as he held him, letting his face rest against his soft feathers, mumbling an apology about getting them wet, met with Patton’s relieved little choked laugh.

He was shaking, he couldn’t stop shaking, the room still flickering, time and space folding in on itself, and it was making him dizzy.

Then Patton started doing the chirp, coo, pattern, vibrating against his chest, grounding him as he struggled to get his breathing under control, to force his mind to the present, but it wouldn’t stop slipping.

“s-sorry… I… I'm so-rry…”

“Shhh, you’re ok, kiddo, it’s ok.” He just shook his head, chest constricting, choking on the air, it burned in his lungs and made him want to scream, just to relieve some of the pressure, but there wasn’t enough air.

“virgil. Can you tell me, five things you can see? Take your time.” Logan, crouched down a fair distance away, to give him space.

“Y-you… patton… R-roman… the… the couch and the… the… n-needle" his breath caught again, his panic flaring, eating him up.

“Alright, good, stay with me, Virgil. Four things you can feel.”

“Pa-tton. My hoodie… the fl-floor. B-andages?” he asked, realizing his arms were carefully wrapped in them.

“you hurt yourself. Nothing serious, it’s alright. Three things you can hear.” He managed a deep breath in, forcing air in and out to answer.

“Chirp/coo.” He said, smiling slightly at Patton's added little trill. “my h-eart, my voice.” He answered, focusing on the feeling of his hands against his hoodie, Patton's warmth against him.

“Excellent. Two things you can smell?”

“Metal… myself" he wrinkled his nose slightly, smelling his own sweat.

“Last one, one thing you can taste.” Logan's steady voice, and he thought for a moment.

“Copper.” He answered, looking up, finally, meeting Logan's eyes for a brief moment, before his gaze flicked to Roman, who stood frozen by the couch, scales half raised in alarm, but also… worry?

“Virgil. How are you feeling?” Logan asked, snapping him back to attention, realizing he’d started to drift.

“um. Sore. Achy. Tired.” He answered, head thumping back against the wall, hissing as it hurt more than expected.

“I was going to warn you about that. We found you fallen over, unconscious on the bathroom floor, bleeding from your head. You’ve been severely ill, and mostly fitfully unconscious, for nearly seven days.” Logan explained.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were so sick!?” Patton scolded, though his voice was gentle.

“i… I didn’t want to bother you. I’ve been sick before. It’s… its fine.”

“no, it isn’t. Virgil. You are severely underweight and malnourished and sleep deprived, all factors that compromise your immune system making it more difficult to fight off disease and you very nearly died because you seemingly cannot comprehend that you are an important member of this crew and we will gladly help if you just ask for it!” He flinched at Logan shouting, his hands clenched into fists. He’d never heard Logan raise his voice, didn’t even know he could, but his mind snagged on what Logan had just said, and he shook his head.

“I… but I’m not. Important. You’re…a family. I’m just a tag along, because you were basically guilted into taking me with. You don’t… want me, here, and that’s fine, I wouldn’t want me here either, so the least I can do is take up the least space and use the least stuff and make myself as little of a nuisance as possible because then maybe I’ll get to stay longer before you get sick of me and kick me off.” Usually he wouldn’t be this candid, but he was tired, and he felt floaty and not all there, his normal anxiety not holding him back.

“Virgil… that's not true.” Roman added, Virgil's bitter laugh echoing harshly through the space.

“Sure it isn’t. You’ve made it clear, what you think of me. And you know what? I’m terrified, constantly, that you might be right. Sooner or later I’m going to hurt someone. It’s… it’s the only thing I’m good at, hurting people. Sometimes I think I should just bail, just leave a note and run, before I hurt anyone. Before I ruin it all. Before I ruin this… this amazing little family, you guys have.”

His eyes slipped closed, against his will, exhaustion weighing him down, settling into his bones from the panic attacks. “I w-want it so badly, it h-urts sometimes, but I can’t… I know I can’t have it. Be part of it. Know I’ll just… just be in the way.” He mumbled, not even sure if he was speaking aloud, anymore.

“Virg… we'll talk about this later, ok? Just… can you make it back to the couch? You need more sleep.” Patton asked, moving off his chest. He nodded, managing to peel his eyes open, stumble to his feet, collapsing face down on the couch before blacking out as soon as his head hit the cushions.

…

“Well. His fever’s broken. There’s no point using these, any further.” Logan, trying to keep his voice steady as he packed up the IV line and supplies, considering hurling the needle out the airlock, just to spite the universe for forcing him to use it.

“I… I need to go. Think. About… things…” Roman poorly explained, darting from the room, as Patton sighed, feathers fluffing and resettling, worried gaze flicking between the doorway Roman had vanished down, Logan storing the medical supplies, and Virgil, face down on the couch. His forehead was a lot cooler, now, and his breathing finally seemed to be normal, deep, steady breaths. His eyes weren’t twitching in his sleep either, a good sign, Patton had learned early on that eye twitches meant bad dreams, nightmares. That was when he would curl up around Virgil’s head and churr softly, a low, rumbling vibration in his chest, that he used to soothe kits, but it also seemed to do the trick on the human. Most of the ampen soothing methods did, which he would have once considered odd, since they relied on empathy to work. But if anything, Virgil had too much empathy, his words playing back in Patton’s mind.

“He thinks we don’t care. We don’t… don’t consider him family, why would he… after everything, still think that?” Patton asked softly, looking up at Logan’s sigh.

“He’s been hurt, Patton. Deeply, psychologically, hurt. He’s so used to being in fight or flight mode, that is all his body knows how to do. His body, his mind, it doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend, safety. And after… after what he went through, how they demeaned him and treated him like a wild animal, like a… a specimen, it’s no wonder that he struggles to comprehend his own self worth, lacks any sense of self esteem or importance. He had to fight every day just to survive, just to keep you safe, and though I am thankful for it, it likely has contributed to his fear of himself. He knows how easily he could hurt any one of us.”

“He won’t though! He’d rather tear himself apart than hurt any of us.” Patton protested.

“I know, Patton. But he clearly doesn’t. He doesn’t take care of himself, he doesn’t trust himself, Patton, and until he starts doing that, understanding that he is wanted and loved and safe, I’m afraid he won’t take care of himself.”

“Then we’ll make sure he does. I will physically fight him.” Patton muttered, determination clear in every bristling feather, and Logan chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

“I would enjoy watching you take down a human, Patton, especially since Virgil would let you, but violence is not going to help in this situation.”

“Still. If he won’t take care of himself, I’m going to make him take care of himself.” He ruffled Patton’s head as he passed the couch, barely containing his smile at the small squeak the motion illicited, stopping at a small tug of his hand.

“Lo? Thank you. For getting him through.” He softened, looking back at Patton, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Of course, Patton. Get some more sleep, now that he’s safe, won’t you?” Patton nodded, drawing away and circling a couple times before settling down curled around Virgil’s head, careful to keep a layer of blanket between them, so he wouldn’t accidentally siphon off energy in his sleep. Virgil needed all of it he could get.

@fortheloveofjanus

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novannna · 4 years

Text

Perfect Imperfection’s Chapter 1

An Au where Nova never joined the Anarchists, instead she and Evie were adopted by Hugh and Simon. Adrian blamed the Renegades for his mothers death, and he ran away to be raised by the Anarchists. Nova and Adrian have switched places. It starts at the beginning of Renegades.

Let me know what you think!!!!(And if I should keep working on it)

Word count:2326

Ch.1

Adrian watched the parade procession inch along, a sneer pasted on his face. The streets were full of foolish people, idiots who put their fate in the hands of the Renegades. The loud band marched along, and a chorus of boos and insults reached Adrians ears. The villains' floats had arrived. Grotesque imitations of fallen anarchists graced the floats. Adrian felt offended as he watched the spectators hurl insults and rotten food at the actors upon the vehicles. While he personally had not known those anarchists well, it still stung watching people hate them so violently. They didn’t know anything.

“And so it begins,” Ingrid's dry voice crackled through his earpiece.

“Let them laugh. They won’t be laughing for much longer. Sketch, are you in position?” Phobia asked.

“Yeah. I just need to know which rooftop you want me on.”

“The council hasn’t left the warehouse yet. I will alert you once they do.”

Adrian glanced back at the parade. His lip twitched. “How do people put so much trust in the Renegades? It's repulsive.” His lip twitched.

Ingrid snickered. “Easy. They’re all idiots. Just blend in. Remember your training.”

“I know,” Adrian sighed. “But much more of this, and I might puke!”

“Remember the mission, Sketch. We have too much to lose if this goes wrong,” Phobia said.

“Is that…” Oh my holy bomb squad, they have a Queen Bee this year.” Adrian glanced up. Sure enough, a woman dressed in a sleazy sequined dress and an enormous blonde wig stood on the float. She clutched a large stuffed bumble bee to her chest and was wailing about something. Wet mascara ran down her cheeks.

“That isn’t far off,” Adrian snickered. “It's a pretty damn good impression.”

“I can’t wait to tell Honey,” said Ingrid. “We should be recording this.”

“Are you offended they don’t have a Detonator?” He asked.

“Well, I am now,” she responded.

Just then, a loud crashing sound came from the parade. Adrian glanced up to see Ace Anarchy emerge from Merchant tower, cackling. The actor wore the same costume as Ace, as well as the familiar helmet.

Adrian felt rage rush through him, and he bit down a snarl.

“Relax Sketch. We’re doing this for him, remember?” Ingrid said.

“Right. For him.”

A body crashed into Adrian, and he tripped forwards. A number of heads glanced towards him, and he cringed down.

“Watch where you're going,” he told the person. A small girl wearing a Dread Warden mask looked up at him. He righted her up, and she muttered sorry, then raced away. Adrian turned back to the parade.

“What was that, Sketch?” Ingrid asked. He didn’t respond. In the corner of his eye, Adrian saw the girl crash into someone else. Instead of correcting her, the girl tackled her and put her into a headlock. She dragged her, kicking and screaming to Adrian.

Give it back,” she said. The girl had short black hair and electric blue eyes. Her voice had a slight rasp to it.

“Put me down! Let me go!” The little girl yelled.

Adian looked around to see a number of people watching them, concerned. That wasn’t good. “What are you doing? Put her down!” He tried to quell the panic rising up. The girl smiled at Adrian, and he felt his mouth go dry. His heart thumped loudly in his chest.

“All right, Evie. You’ve got three seconds to hand it over before I report you. And I know you don’t want that,” She said in a patronizing tone. The girl scowled fiercely.

“I hate you.” She dropped something into the other girls palm.

“I’ll see you later.” She let the thief go. “And if I hear from anyone that you’ve been stealing, you’ll be in so much trouble.” The girl stuck out her tongue, then darted off.

“Here you are,” the girl said to Adrian. He warily extended his hand. She dropped a small golden locket into his palm. His hand went to the space on his neck where it usually hung.

“What? How did she get that?” He asked, reaching around his neck.

“Sketch, what's happening?” Ingrid's voice asked in his ear. He ignored it.

“Do you want help with that?” The girl asked. “Here, let me.” Before he could respond, she was already clipping it around his neck.

“Uh, thanks,” Adrian said.

“No problem.” the girl winced. “Shit! The clasp is broken. Evie, you’re in so much trouble!”

Adrian reached for it back, but the girl stopped him. “It's okay, I can fix it.”

“No, you don’t understand, it's my moms. You can’t..it's not-” He started, but the girl shushed him.

“No, don’t worry.” She slipped something out of her pocket. She bent her head over the necklace, her bangs hiding her face. She stood back up and presented Adrian the necklace, the clasp fully fixed. It even looked the same.

“How did you do that?” Adrian asked, impressed.

“A new tool I designed. It can scan an object and replicate whatever part is missing.” She smiled proudly. “It’s still a prototype, but it works pretty damned well.” Before Adrian could stop her, she clasped the necklace around his neck. The locket was a familiar weight against his neck, and he relaxed slightly.

“Adrian, are you compromised?” Ingrid’s voice barked into his ear. He winced.

The girl was saying something, but Adrian didn’t hear her. A bout of cheers and clapping surged through the crowd.

“Looks like the councils here.”

Adrian nodded. “Looks like it.” He tried his hardest to keep the distaste out of his voice.

“Sketch, west station,” Phobias voice said in his ear.

Adrian snapped to attention. “On it.” He turned around and started to jog away.

“Your welcome,” the girl called out after him. He ignored her. Someone shoved a flyer into his hand and he crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it into his pocket without bothering to look at it. He ducked into an alleyway and grabbed his backpack from behind the dumpster.

“Sketch, what is your status?” Phobia asked.

“Grabbing my stuff. I’ll be up on the roof in a minute.”

“Hurry. You have a superhero to kill.”

---

Nova watched her dads wave at the cheering fans and smiled. It felt good to be able to celebrate something for the first time in a while. For the first time in what felt like forever, Nova was happy. Most people had finally stopped treating her like some pariah, just because she was related to Ace Anarchy. Her family was happy, so she was happy. And she had a lot of new tech that was successful.

Although, she was absolutely pissed at Evie. Why the hell did her sister have to go around, stealing from everyone. She didn’t need the money, she did it for the fun of it. Nova scowled thinking about it. Oh she was going to have some serious words with her. Her mind wandered back to the boy from earlier. The one with the locket. He had seemed so nervous and twitchy. He reminded Nova of a dog a little. Sweet, but hesitant. Nova smiled thinking about him.

The happiness turned to chaos in seconds. Nova watched a bullet whiz through the air, heading right toward her dad. Nova held her breath as it snapped against his metal skin, a hair's breadth from his eye. The council snapped to attention, commanding the crowd to remain calm, telling them that everything was fine. Nova could see a small dark form on the rooftop, a swarm of monarch butterflies hovering around it. Her wristband buzzed. A message from Oscar to the team.

Sketch spotted on top of buildings across from the parade. Red Assassin, Monarch and I are engaging. Back up may be needed.

Nova grinned, despite the chaos surrounding. A perfect opportunity to test her new tech. A compact suit with several added benefits. She ducked into a nearby ally. She zipped her jacket up all the way and pulled the hood over her head. It hissed and the fabric pulled back, revealing metal underneath. The metal slid along her body on invisible hinges, moving until it completely enveloped her. A visor covered her face, darkening the world around her slightly. A bright red R was emblazoned on the chest.

Nova bounced up and down gently. She went almost five feet into the air, and came down without a sound.

“Anti-gravity works,” she said to herself. “What else does?” She held out her fist and squeezed her hand tight. Flames roared out, turning an old crate to ashe.

“Fire works.” She looked down at the metal covering her hand. “And not even scorch marks. Yay!” Nova grinned behind her mask. She bent down, then leapt upwards. The suit carried her all the way to the rooftop where she rolled to a halt. Nova backed up a tiny bit, then started to run. She gathered enough momentum to jump across the gap between buildings.

She let out a whoop.

“Hell yeah!” she screamed. It felt almost as if she was flying. She jumped across rooftops to the building she could see her team fighting Sketch on. Nova landed in front of him. She looked around to see Ruby crumpled in a heap on the ground. Danna stood not too far away with blood covering her leg.

“You must be new around here,” Sketch said.

She tilted her head. “I’ve been around long enough to know who you are.. Sketch.”

He smiled up at her behind his mask. “Should I be flattered?”

A loud cackling blasted through the air and both Nova and Sketch turned to look for its source.

“What is that idiot doing here?” Sketch grimaced. A hot air balloon floated through the streets, the bright green anarchist ‘A’ painted on it. The Puppeteer stood in the basket, his head tilted back. He let out another bout of manic laughter, his crazy orange hair tangling around his head.

“Oh reeeenegades,” he sang. “Doesn’t anyone want to play with me?” Screams echoed from far below. “Eeny, meeny,miny...mo!” Golden strings cascaded down from his fingertips. Nova knew that several innocent children had just been possessed by the Puppeteers' powers.

“Tag! You’re it!” He screamed. “Friends of yours?” He asked Sketch.

Sketch looked at Nova. “Not really.” He threw something at Nova and it expanded midair. A net wrapped itself around her, pinning her limbs to her body. “Nice to meet you,” he said, and started to jog away. Nova snarled.

“Not so fast.” She wrapped her fist around the rope and it began to burn away, the acrid smell of smoke filling the air.

“Another fire elemental. How quaint. Not exactly a rare breed, but it's hard to criticise a classic.”

Nova snarled and launched herself at him. Her suit carried her all the way to him. He backed away, surprised. “You can’t escape me, Sketch. I’m taking you into custody and you will answer for your crimes.”

“Lovely as that sounds, I actually had other plans for the afternoon.” A shadow passed over them and Nova looked up to see butterflies converging into Monarch.

“Who are you?” she asked Nova.

“I am the Sentinel,” she responded, puffing her chest out a tiny bit.

Sketch burst out laughing. “Seriously?” Nova felt slightly insulted by his reaction. She had thought it sounded like a cool name.

“Friends of yours?” Danna asked.

“I’m really not that friendly,” Sketch responded. “Beside’s, she’s wearing your trademark.” Danna glared suspiciously at Nova.

Sketch lashed out at Danna with a red knife, one Ruby must have made. Danna turned into butterflies before he could hurt her, only losing a single butterfly. Nova lunged forwards and wrapped her arms tightly around Sketch. He tried to get free, but Nova was too strong. He shoved them both backwards and they tumbled off the roof and landed on another one. Nova winced as she fell onto a small fountain, stone cracking beneath their weight.

“Hey Sentinel,” Sketch said. Nova turned towards him, and he drove Ruby’s knife into her shoulder. She roared with pain and held out her fist, too mad to think before she blasted him with fire. He ducked and the flames went right over him and struck, to Nova’s horror, a large cluster of orange and black butterflies. She heard a scream of pain and watched the insects merge into Danna. Her uniform was blackened from ribs to her hip.

“Monarch?” A voice asked. Nova looked over to see Oscar pull himself onto the roof.

“Help her,” Nova screamed.

“Who the hell are you?” he yelled back.

Nova ignored him and turned back to Sketch. He was running towards the edge of the roof, trying to get to the Puppeteers balloon.

“You have a tagalong,” the Puppeteer said to Sketch. Nova reached him and wrapped her fingers around his throat.

“You tried to assassinate Captain Chromium,” she growled. “Why? Who put you up to it? What else are they planning?” She was completely filled up with rage.

“You Renegades sure ask a lot of questions.” he said.

“You better answer them,” Nova snarled.

“You think I’m afraid of a pompous neophyte in a toy suit? He asked incredulously.

“Neophyte?” She asked.

He sighed. “It means amatuer. You're obviously new to this game.” Nova’s fingers loosened slightly.

“I know what it-- argh!” She stomped her foot. “Look, I don’t really care whether or not you’re afraid of me, but I’m willing to bet you're at least a little bit afraid of dying, like we all are.” She tightened her fingers.

He wheezed slightly. “You know what they say… one cannot be brave who has no fear.” Nova started, giving him enough time to wiggle free. He brought his fist around and struck Nova in the head. The impact knocked her down and her vision dimmed. She blinked once.. Twice.. The third time though, her eyes stayed shut.

#renegades #renegades fic #Nova artino #Adrian Everheart #Sketch #nightmare #sentinel #renegades au #fanfic #danna bell #oscar silva #ruby tucker #ingrid thompson #phobia #Winston Pratt #anarchists

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ambientstars · 4 years

Text

Puppet

Whittaker!Master X f!reader X Doctor

Gif: unknown. (If you know, please tell me so I can credit)

Warnings: mentions of abuse, angst & death of a character

(I sincerely apologise for not being able to add the ‘read more’ break, I know it’s long. Also I didn’t specify which Doctor it was so you can make it who you want it to be.)

- - -

“How could you? I trusted you!” The Doctor yelled directly at you, his hands in fists, his face red like strawberries.

The Master had just told him that for the last year of travelling with him, you’d been betraying him behind his back, getting close to him so you could do the Master’s dirty work for her.

“Stop shouting, dear, you’ll give yourself a migraine.” She sniggered, striding over to you with purpose.

She dipped you down and kissed you so deeply, so intensely, everything else around you faded away into darkness and background noise. Your arms snaked around her neck in response, holding on tight. The moan that slipped from your throat was loud enough to ring in the Doctor’s ears, not that you were paying attention to him at all anymore.

The Master hummed her appreciation for the sound and smirked as she pulled you back upright, her eyes fixed on the Doctor. “Doesn’t she sound so sweet, Doctor? Doesn’t it break your little hearts to know you could never make her make a sound like that?”

The Doctor’s face fell from confusion and anger to hurt and… acceptance?

“I just…” his voice was weak, his fighting efforts withering away. “I don’t understand.”

The Master twisted a strand of your hair around her finger for a second, while she feigned sadness, her bottom lip poking out in a pout. “Poor you, Doctor. Finally, the man who knows everything there is to know about the universe and everything in it, speechless and confused.”

Your hand absentmindedly played the buttons on the Master’s waistcoat, still pressed to her side. You glanced over at the Doctor and almost pitied him, the pain of heartbreak clearly displayed on his face. After all you did spend the best part of a year with this man, albeit reporting his every move and thought back to the Master at the end of each day, and you weren’t completely heartless.

But from the first day you met the Master, she had made sure you understood rule one, never trust anyone. The Doctor would’ve done well to have learnt that too.

“This good girl right here,” she looked you up and down, the corner of her lips tugging up into a small, proud smile. “Has been keeping you busy while I’ve been attending to some… things.”

You bit your lip in anticipation of the big reveal, ready and waiting for the Doctor’s reaction, your whole body practically buzzing with excitement. The Master noticed and shot you a look that said be patient and turned back to the man in front of you both.

“I’ve been visiting your little friends,” the Master circled the Doctor for intimidation purposes, the way her body moved and swayed as she slowly walked had you licking your lips. “Your… retired companions.”

The Doctor gave her a look of disgusted curiosity, his jaw clenched. “You better not have hurt them!”

But the Doctor knew better than that, of course she hurt them. Why else would she have visited them?

You could hardly contain the giggle that forced its way from your chest, the Master directing a sinister grin at you when she heard, understanding your joy.

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I can’t tell you that, otherwise I’d be lying.” She leant back on the console, looking at her perfectly manicured fingernails ever so casually.

“What did you do?” The Doctor spat, his face turning back red in frustration, sweat forming at his hairline.

“I started with that blonde woman you loved so much. Oh, what was her name again? Violet? Tulip?” She winked at you playfully and again you giggled, your hands unable to keep still. “Nevermind. Whatever her name was, she’s dead now.”

His face twisted into multiple forms at once, none of which you’d ever seen before. Anger, hatred, shock, you name it. “No. You couldn’t have. She’s in an alternate universe, with no way through.”

“You underestimate my abilities, Doctor. And for good measure, but mostly fun on my part, I left your little clone alive, crying pathetically.”

The Doctor gripped onto the console behind him for support, not trusting his own strength to stand anymore. He felt for the man that was basically his twin, knowing just how much he loved her and now having to live a long and miserable life without her.

“Then I went down the list of everyone you’ve ever brought aboard this ship, well the ones you’d allowed to live, and kill them all off. One by one.”

The Master came back to stand with you, her arm around your waist as you all but bounced in your spot.

“But why?”

“Because I felt like it.” The Master’s tone was very blasé, as if to say why else?, her shoulders shrugging carelessly.

“You can’t just… that’s not fair!”

As the Master spoke, she looked at you, her finger under your chin and her eyes admiring you. “What’s fairness got to do with anything? Come on, Doctor, you and I have never played fair, why start now?”

The way she looked at you sparked a fire in your core, goosebumps rising across your body. The Doctor spoke again, but his words were a mystery to you, your complete focus on the woman in front of you, now stroking your cheek with a single digit.

The Master also continued talking, her lips forming words like she had rehearsed them. Her face showed no sign of amusement now, but it was such a turn on when she was stern and serious, her brows creased and her eyes like daggers impaling your soul.

A sharp pain radiated across your cheek, your head suddenly thrown to the side.

“I asked you a question, darling,” the Master lowered the hand she had just slapped you with, her teeth gritted in irritation. “Now answer me!”

Your hand found its way to your throbbing cheek, the touch of your own skin against it stung like a thousand bee stings.

You hadn’t been paying attention, too caught up in your desire for the other woman, all senses switched off until you were abruptly brought back to reality. “I…”

The Master snared, stepping forward to put her face right in front of yours, eyes burning with something worse than anger. “Do I have to punish you?”

You remembered the last time she had punished you, trapping you in a tight, dark room and invading your head with visions of your worst nightmares, playing on a loop for days, weeks.

You remembered one particular day when she had been angered by something or someone so badly, she came to the room and released all that anger out on you through kicks and punches, beating you until you were bloodied and bruised, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time passed after that, but eventually she opened the door again and scooped you up into her arms, shushing you lovingly as you cried into her neck. She had bathed you, carefully cleaning the bumps and bruises scattered over your weak body and she sat behind on your bed as she brushed your hair until the brush ran through it like silk, telling stories of the adventures she’d had while you were locked away.

And although you forgave her in a heartbeat, just like always, from that day you decided to be on your very best behaviour for the Master, the punishment just not worth it. Until now.

“No, I just…”

“Leave her alone.” The Doctor piped up, looking at you with hurt in his eyes.

It confused you a little that the Doctor would stand up for you and have your back even after you betrayed him in the worst way possible, but you figured after spending so much time with him and bonding, on his part, over dangerous days out, it had to have something to do with it.

“Stay out of this!” The Master snapped back, her shoulders tense, her eyes never looking away from yours.

“She’s not your puppet, Master. This is between me and you, just leave her out of it.”

The Master’s face softened a little, her lips curving into a smirk. She round you to stand behind you, her chest against your back, her lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Oh, but she is.”

Her hand trailed up from your stomach to your throat where she lightly squeezed and tilted your head back to rest on her shoulder. You stood frozen, allowing her to control you in fear of the consequences.

Her eyes remained locked on the Doctor as she whispered in your ear, making sure he was still paying attention. “If you want to avoid punishment when we get home, you will do exactly as I tell you, do you understand?”

You nodded the best you could with your head back and whispered yes Master, your knees feeling like they might give out at any minute.

“Good girl. Now, go over there and hide this somewhere he won’t see it. I don’t care how you do it, just make it quick and don’t mess up.” She slipped a cold metal object into the back of the waistband on your jeans, the feeling of it forcing you to shiver against her.

She placed a simple encouraging kiss onto the side of your neck as she released her hold on you and pushed you forward toward the broken man still standing frozen in his spot.

“I have better things to be doing than standing around here at your pity party, Doctor. So I’m going to go, but you enjoy yourself, really.” The Master saluted the Doctor playfully and turned to walk away, shouting for you to hurry up behind her as she walked through the TARDIS doors.

“Doc I-“

“Please… please just don’t.” Finally he moved, turning away from you and shuffling over to the other side of the console, pressing buttons like he knew what he was doing. “Just go.”

“I’m sorry.”

Were you sorry? You didn’t know your own feelings anymore, every one of your thoughts and emotions dictated now.

The Doctor looked at you for a moment, his face practically showing all of the cogs turning in his restless mind. He looked tired, beaten down and ready to give up. It wasn’t a look you were used to seeing on this usually charismatic and charming man, his skin glowing with adrenaline, now dull and pale.

“I know.”

He walked off down a hallway of the TARDIS without another word, slipping out of sight almost instantly. You expected to feel guilt and regret right now, but you felt no different to how you had during the year you spent with the timelord, keeping him distracted.

You carefully and quietly slipped the metal object the Master had given you under a control panel of the console and followed in the Master’s footsteps, out the door without looking back.

“My sweet girl,” the Master praised as you came through the door to her TARDIS, her arms raised as if you’d been away for months and just returned home. “Excluding the minor hiccup that I will ignore for now, you did so well back there.”

Butterflies swarmed and fluttered in your stomach, a proud feeling washing over you. “Thank you.”

“Come, watch this.” She gestured you over to stand with her at the computer screen and you did so without hesitation. “Press this button right here.”

You pressed it and not even a second later, up on the screen, you saw the blue box explode into sharp pieces of wood and jagged metal, fire erupting into the air and causing the ground you were standing on to rumble like you’ve never experienced before. Aftershocks rippled through the atmosphere like radiation, your eyes never tearing away from the screen despite the TARDIS jerking around like no tomorrow.

The Master grabbed ahold of your face and forced you to look at her instead, a sickening smile playing on her lips. “Good girl.”

She kissed you hard, a kiss you did not reciprocate, and just as quickly released you to casually walk off somewhere to do God only knows what.

You allowed your eyes to once again watch the screen, now only seeing the carnage and aftermath of the Master’s doing, knowing the Doctor was in the wreckage somewhere, probably dead.

You didn’t move, couldn’t move, your mind blank and your body numb. You looked a few moments longer then switched off the screen and exited the room the same way the Master did, in search of her, hoping to find a new way to please your Master.

#13th doctor #dark!thirteen #jodie whittaker #whittaker!master x reader #whittaker!master #doctor x reader #master x reader #doctor x master #doctor who imagine #doctor who #dw imagine #tw abuse #tw death

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theamberwriter · 5 years

Text

Burned by You [ProHero!Shoto Todoroki]

Pairing: Pro Hero! Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Word Count: 1805

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: He’s probs a lil OOC, sorry ^^”

Something was wrong with Shoto. You couldn't place it, but he'd been acting out of the usual. Though he vehemently denied it every time you asked him what the matter was. You had a theory, but you weren't sure.

Shoto didn't talk about his home life much. His life before becoming a pro. But you knew about his burning hatred for his father. You also knew he had run into him recently. You had a feeling they'd fought. Even if Shoto was a pro now, it didn't stop Endeavor from being well - Endeavor. In fact, it made him even more insufferable!

You felt it was time to talk to your boyfriend. You'd been tiptoeing around him for a week. You just wanted your boyfriend back. You wanted to be able to comfort him. Show him that you were there, no matter what.

The opportunity presented itself that night. Shoto was home on a rare day off. Your day had been fine. But you could tell he wasn't completely over whatever it was.

"Shoto?" you started warily. He was washing the dinner dishes, his back to you. You walked close enough to touch him. You held out your hand but didn't lay a finger on him. "I know you're upset. You can't hide that from me. Is it because of Endeavor -"

Shoto's side immediately erupted in flames. You'd never seen that happen before. He whipped around to face you with fury evident in his eyes. "Don't you ever say his name -"

You weren't sure why you screamed at first. You only caught sight of Shoto's fire going out, his eyes growing wide. He reached for you, uttering something. But his words were muffled. Then, the ringing in your ears started. Following that, there was pain. Searing, burning, angry pain from your neck, over your shoulder, down your arm to your elbow. It stung, like a thousand bees stabbing themselves into your skin.

You fell to your knees, clutching that arm to you. Tears blurring your vision before you even knew they existed. Shoto knelt in front of you, a cold hand reaching for you. The relief that hand brought as a thin layer of frost coated the burn was heaven. But, inside, you recoiled from his gentle fingers.

"[Name]," Shoto's voice was weak. "I'm sorry - I didn't - I didn't mean to -"

You sobbed. Fully realizing what happened - for the first time in the four years you'd been dating, Shoto burned you. He hadn't ever used his quirk on you, unless you asked. Ice a sprained ankle, warm a bath - but never ever in violence. He was normally so good at controlling his temper. Controlling the bursts that followed seeing his father.

But he'd never turned a hand to you.

"What the hell?" It was all you could muster. "Shoto, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

Shoto's hand dropped. Your shoulders were shaking, your breath starting to come in pants. Your sobs were painful, raking hiccups. Shoto didn't know what to do.

"I didn’t mean to...we need to get you to a hospital,” Shoto stated as if it was so obvious.

You didn’t want him getting in trouble. You didn’t want to know what the headlines would say. PRO HERO SHOTO ATTACKS PARTNER IN THEIR HOME, PARTNER SUSTAINS THIRD DEGREE BURNS AND PERMANENT SCARING. It wasn’t like that. He was angry and, for just a second, had a lapse in control. You just happened to be in the way. Shoto wasn’t like that. Wasn’t abusive, wasn’t angry.

You grabbed his shirt sleeve, not saying a word. But you hoped the look in your eyes would get him to think about this. About his reputation. About how all his work could come crumbling down, because of an accident. It only took one misunderstanding to topple the delicate tower he stood on.

Shoto shook his head. You pulled his shirt again. He gingerly took your hand, looking into your eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not worried about that...We can say you slipped with a pot of boiling water if you’re that concerned. But you’re going. - This is my fault. I’m going to fix it.”

Shoto pulled you up with him as he stood. He couldn’t look at your arm. At what he did. But he was quick to find antibiotic ointment and gauze. He grimaced as he wrapped you up after putting on the medicated cream. Then he took you out to the car.

It was a quiet ride to the hospital. Shoto’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tight, you thought that it’d snap. But it sustained for the whole twenty-minute ride. Shoto’s face remained angry, focused. His eyes aimed straight ahead of him.

The front desk workers stood immediately as the two of you rushed in. Shoto fed them the line about the boiling water. They swept you back into a room. Before you could blink, you were sitting on a hospital bed in a gown. Your burned arm was uncovered because you shrieked in pain when they tried to cover your bandaged arm.

Shoto was sat rigidly in the chair beside you. Still, he couldn’t look you. After a few minutes, he shot out of his chair and nearly sprinted out of the room. Leaving you alone. You tried not to focus too much on the pain. Instead trying to peer out of the clear walls. Watching as people walked by.

When the doctor came in, Shoto still hadn’t appeared. You gave him the line about the boiling water that Shoto’d given the nurses. But, when your wound was unwrapped, your doctor had a sharp eye.

“Are you sure these burns weren’t caused by fire?” he asked. He lifted your arm, examining it. Watching as pain flickered across your face when he moved it.

You swallowed hard as he allowed your arm to rest. “Yes. - I’m just a little clumsy. That’s all.”

“Well, look what we have here.” You knew that voice. Endeavor appeared behind the doctor. What was he doing here? And why did he look so smug? “Looks like my quirkless future child-in-law.”

That word stung you more than any of Shoto’s flames could. Endeavor had looked down on you since the first day you were introduced. You were a pathetic, useless, unworthy bug in his eyes. He thought you were distracting Shoto from the purpose Endeavor created him for. And Shoto’s hatred for his father had grown more since you two were together.

“Did you finally get a taste of my Shoto’s flames?” he asked smugly. “Do you finally see how useless you are? How much of a distraction you’ve become? You couldn’t even defend yourself. It’s disgusting -”

“You.” That was Shoto’s voice. And it dripped with more hatred and malice than you'd heard from any villain. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You’d never seen the sort of hatred in his eyes. He said he was over this. Over him. Over Endeavor treating him like a tool. But that look - you knew it would never truly be over.

“This is your fault!” Shoto cried, one side of the room coating with ice. He was losing it. His control, which was always amazing, was slipping. His temper tipping into a scale you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t know Shoto was capable of such rage. All because of Endeavor. What happened last time he saw him? “What did you say to them? What did you say to [Name]?!”

“Nothing of consequence,” Endeavor said, turning to face Shoto. “Just seeing if your little pet had had enough. This -” He waved his hand towards you. “- isn’t my fault. You shouldn’t blame your weaknesses on others.”

“[Name] may not have a quirk, but they’re a better person than you will ever be.” Shoto’s eyes were wild. Scary even. “Bribing me to break up with them. That’s a new low, even for you. You have nothing you could possibly offer me. I don’t need you. - Now get. Out.”

Endeavor gave Shoto a look that could’ve killed. “When your quirkless pest gets in the way again. - Because, one way or the other, they will - you will have no one to blame but yourself, Shoto.”

Endeavor left without another word. Shoto silently defrosted the room. Then cut a sharp look at the doctor, who turned back to you. You were treated for intense burns. The whole thing being kept under wraps, in the way that happened with heroes. They kept you overnight in the burn unit.

Once the doctors did their final tests, and you were given your second IV full of antibiotics, it was just you and Shoto. He was quiet. You were have thought he fell asleep with his eyes open. But you knew better. Especially with the way he was gripping your hand. It almost hurt.

Shoto tenderly kissed your fingers. “I’m so sorry about all of - this. About him.”

You sat quietly, going over the earlier fight. You swallowed hard. “He tried to bribe you. To break up with me?”

Shoto sighed as he nodded. Anger etched onto his face as it’d been all day. “There’s not a thing in the world that could get me to let you go.”

“But,” you choked before you could stop yourself. “What if he’s right? What if, because I'm quirkless, I hold you back? What if I get in your way? What if I’m captured by villains, but I don’t have a quirk to save myself? What if -”

“Stop,” Shoto said sternly.

“But -”

“No -”

“But -”

“[Name]!” Shoto finally shouted. You jerked your hand away, half afraid he’d set it ablaze. You supposed he saw the fear in your eyes. His expression changed into a pained one. He leaned back in the plastic chair. “He will never be right. He never has been. - No matter what comes, I will face it. With you. Nothing he says will ever change my mind on that. Do you understand?”

You knew that look. That determined, fearful look. You’d seen it on TV as you panicked watching the news. Crying and throwing yourself into his arms when he came home. This was the man you wanted your future with. And he was right, nothing - not villains, or fights, or Endeavor, or this - was going to come between you two.

You nodded. You could see Shoto relax, a small smile forming on his face.

You two would power through this. Just as you had through everything else. You would push passed every flinch and hesitant touch that followed. Push passed every stare your burns and scars received. Ignore every question that came about how you got burned. You didn’t forget what happened. But learn from it. It made you two that much stronger.

And, you knew for sure, if you got through this - you could get through anything.

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agustdomain · 4 years

Text

sorry I’m a bad boy

unrequested drabble about the bad boy back in town, aiming to keep his promises to his girl. Is it too late?

Warnings: Language, Suggestive content

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

“You know who’s looking for you, right?”

Your friend was fresh with youth, it seemed. That, or ignorance. All day, everyone you came across in this nosy ass town buzzed about you like bees, the same name filling your ears. You didn’t expect your best friend to be just another bee attracted to the honey.

“Yes, I know. Yes, he’s back in town. Yes, he’s looking for me. No, I don’t care.” That was a lie, but you needed to put on a brave face. You hadn’t seen Changbin in six months; the least you could do is pretend you didn’t care.

Rosé gave you that famous look of hers, the one that told you she knew exactly how afraid and lost you were feeling. “Seems like you’ve heard that way too much today.”

“I have.”

“Why don’t we get out of here then?”

And that’s how, instead of going to your 4:30 class, you skipped it to grab a burger and fries with your favorite person on Earth. You know it was only a matter of time before Rosé stopped being generous by filling the silence. Her fidgeting was her tell: she was dying to know where your mind was at.

How were you supposed to feel when the boy you were in love with your entire life reappeared after months of being M.I.A.?

His stupid promises filtered into your head as you drowned one fry in ketchup, dunking it over and over as each sentence rolled through your head.

I’ll come back for you.

I’ll always love you.

I’m always going to be bad for you, don’t forget that.

I might be leaving, but I’ll never leave you.

You can trust me.

I won’t ever change. I promise that.

Sorry I’m a bad boy.

You scoffed aloud, your attention finding the fry that had long been broken in half. How symbolic.

“Do you think… he knows about you and Jisung?”

You gave her an unamused look. “What’s to know? I don’t like Jisung like that.”

Rosé bit into her burger and chewed slowly before saying, “Yeah, but you know Jisung is going around telling everyone you’re his girlfriend.”

You knocked your head back and groaned. “I told him to stop doing that shit! I’m not going to date him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s delusional. Has been since we were kids.” Rosé really looked worried about you, and because of that you couldn’t look at her. She added, “Chances are, he’s heard about it.”

“Of course he has. In this shithole of a town, gossip travels fast,” You felt bad for calling your home that, but you were in a bad mood and it doesn’t mix well with the familiarity of a small town.

Rosé looked thoughtful again as she sipped from her soda before her eyes grew wide, “Oh my gosh. This isn’t good. They hate each other.”

“I know.”

“Once Changbin hears, he’s going to go apeshit. And when Jisung hears he’s back, he already knows he lost you to him. It’s a lose lose.”

“Why would he care? He’s the one that left me in the first place.”

You ignored her disapproving look, wanting to wallow in your despair. She never let you have your moments, though.

“You know that’s not true. The two of you were absolutely in love. He would travel the galaxy for you. You said it yourself, the only way he was going to escape bad influences is if he left.”

“But…” It bubbled over then, and you hated it. You thought you had escaped it, had managed to chase it away. It had only settled and waited until it was time to erupt. “But he said he wouldn’t leave me. He said he was leaving, but vowed to keep in contact with me. He said it would be like he never left. Tell me why I haven’t gotten one phone call, one text. Nothing. I mean nothing to him.

“He commanded my heart with the flick of his wrist. I was played by him, and I should’ve known better!” By now, you were yelling, your face red and the burger joint silent, likely eavesdropping to spread your outburst across town. “Changbin is nothing but a walking cliché. A stupid bad boy who had nothing better to do than go around seeing how many hearts he could break. Worthless promises, nothing but worthless words from his mouth. Am I supposed to jump for joy now that he’s back? Please, I’d rather date Jisung than face his bullshit again.”

Rosé stared for a moment, her mind working to figure out how to make things right. She couldn’t, but you loved her for trying. Slapping money down on the table, she grabbed your wrist. “I was wrong. Your favorite meal isn’t enough to cure this despair. Let’s go.”

Tugging you out of the burger place, complaints fell past your lips, not really paying attention to your surroundings. Coming to an abrupt stop in front of you, you slammed into her.

“Hey! What’s your problem-” Stepping around her, the reason became as vivid as the figure in front of you. Sleek black Impala parked, the same one you had spent way too many nights in doing way too many unspeakable things. Leaning up against its trunk, the boy with all the promises he couldn’t keep, his eyes shining as he looked at you.

Was his hair darker, or was your memory poisoned? Were his eyes warmer? His clothing was just as dark as you remembered, though he looked a lot more filled out.

He was perfect. Still, he managed to wring your insides tight, making it hard to breathe. If possible, it hurt even more seeing him now than it did when you had to watch his back as he walked away from you the last time.

“Y/N.”

“Let’s go, Rosé,” You thought you were in control. Quickly, you realized you weren’t.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Your heart dropped as you saw the apologetic look on your best friend’s face, “He convinced me to bring you here. I think it’ll be good to talk to him. I’ll be inside.”

The betrayal that twisted your heart stung your eyes. Really, you knew it was because you couldn’t handle being around him again. All these months, you ached to smell his scent, his body wash and him. You wanted to smell that stupid air freshener in his car, hear that stupid CD he replayed over and over. You wanted him.

Now that he was here, you wanted everything but.

You closed your eyes as the streetlights shut on, his heavy footsteps nearing until they stopped in front of you. Was your mind playing a trick on you or was his actual scent reaching your nose? The tears spilling from your closed eyes were embarrassing, so you squeezed your eyes tighter. Clenched fist, aching heart, crickets crying for their mates, you wished deeply this wasn’t happening.

It was too soon for you to realize all you wanted was to fall into his arms.

“Oh Y/N,” No. He wasn’t allowed to be in pain. Who gave him the right to waltz back in and out whenever he wanted?

You flinched when his fingers brushed a tear away. Peeking to see his hurt expression, you turned away. “What do you want, Changbin? Come to laugh in my face?”

His face scrunched up from the corner of your eye. “No. That’s bullshit and you know it. You know why I’m here.”

“Why?” You faced him, courage slowly but surely building as your eyes trailed to meet his. His courage faded as he stepped back, resolve crumbling as he had to stare the outcome of his actions in the face. “You think I’m just going to accept you back with open arms? You think I’m going to come running when everyone tells me you’re back? Jumping for joy?”

He was frowning but you continued, needing to or else you would implode.

“If you’re so big and bad, why are you here? Why aren’t you sporting some brand new girlfriend to rub in my face? I’m sure there was plenty, considering you never reached out to me. How’s that for a cliché? The bad boy makes promises he can’t keep. Well, news flash. I’m not the stupid girl who falls for your lies again.”

“Y/N…”

“And I don’t want to hear any insincere apology that I know you’re waiting to say. You expected me to wait for you. You expected me to hang onto your every word, hang onto this fantasy that you loved me. I’m better than that. I’m better than this.”

“Y/N, would you listen to me?”

“No. You don’t deserve that.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“There’s nothing you could say that would make this right. So you don’t.”

“How would you know that?” His eyes were narrowed now, annoyed. How dare he.

“Because I do.”

“Stellar answer. Wouldn’t expect anything else from the Hotheaded queen herself.”

Inhaling heavily, you searched your mind for anything to say. Instead, you couldn’t help but swear at yourself as your eyes lingered on his face. He was still as stunning as he was in the past. You were such a fool. And he? A snake.

“What do you want from me, Changbin?”

At the sound of his name, you caught how he had an intake of breath. You ignored the pang in your chest. Your eyes trailed down. He was still wearing the silver car-wheel necklace you had given him a year ago. You wanted to rip it off.

“I want to hear your voice.”

You laughed. He ignored you.

“I want to hear every single detail of your days. I want to know what shows you’ve been watching, what music you’ve been listening to, if you continued on using that detergent you decided to try out. Are you still using the same body spray? How’s Galaxy? She was a kitten the last time I saw her. Bet she’s still causing havoc.”

Was it a trick of the streetlight or were his eyes glistening?

He stepped closer, you looking down at him from the edge of the pavement. He was in the road, blocking a parking spot but that was the least of his concerns as he stared up at you. Laughing forcibly, you held your breath as his fingers cautiously skimmed the back of your hand. You let him.

“I want to lie next to you again, watch the expressions you make when you sleep. I want you to wake me up in the middle of the night and pepper my face with kisses when you have a bad dream, and hug me from behind when you know I had one myself. I want to hear your laugh. I want to make your coffee, even though I always mess it up. How many times have you watched Good Will Hunting without me? I know I always complained, but I loved it just as much as you did.”

He was inches away from you now, and you uncontrollably drew closer. He was magnetic, glowing like the angel he was. A few lies from his mouth and he was an angel again. Were they lies? You didn’t know, but you could feel yourself slipping.

“I told you I was coming back for you. I never left, not really, not when the best part of me is still here. I can’t change who I am, and how I needed to get away to become better. I need to be a better man for you. I did what I had to. I’m sorry for not reaching out to you. I know I can’t make it up to you in a day. I’m bad, always have been. But I did what I had to in order to keep from running back. Trust me, I would have the second I heard your voice.”

How were you supposed to be mad at him when he was speaking to you in that tone, when his fingers were on your skin, when his presence was surrounding you?

“Y/N,” he sang your name now. That’s how it always sounded, since the moment he introduced himself and stole your heart. You remember when you were fifteen, the first time he really caught your attention in school. How his flirty smile always felt a little different than the others. He really had you since the moment you met.

“Changbin.” Even you were giving in. You couldn’t help it, not when he was this close. This close in six months.

He waited, hands comfortably on your waist and head tipped up as he looked at you. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, brushing them off before fiddling with his collar. Your fingers skimmed across his neck, and you watched as his lips parted, a look you knew all too well washing over his eyes.

Heavy lidded, he waited.

Hands gripping your waist, he waited.

Your fingers were massaging the back of his neck, thrilled at the same effect you had on him. The heat was closing in, the light fading away as you were washed away by the ocean you were drawn to since you were a girl.

Just as your lips grazed his, blinding headlights and a car horn startled you out of his grip as you jumped back. Changbin was less affected, annoyed as he looked over his shoulder at the car trying to pull into the spot he currently occupied. You pulled him up onto the sidewalk, but not before noticing the look building on his face as he waited for the driver to get out of his car. He was pissed.

And you? You were scared.

You recognized the car all too well.

“Y/N! I’ve been looking all over for you! I was going to take you home after class!” Jisung was all smiles, but you didn’t miss the lingering look on Changbin.

“Hey Park. It’s pretty fucking obvious what happened,” Changbin barely waited for Jisung to finish.

The smile disappeared so fast from the happy boy, it was unsettling. “Was I talking to you?”

“No, but I figured I would do you a favor and spare you the embarrassment. You always manage to make a fool out of yourself.”

Jisung slammed his car door shut. You began sweating, the danger on their faces spurring you into action as you stepped between them. That didn’t break their staredown.

“I don’t appreciate your attitude. Given the fact that you ran away from home like a little bitch, I wouldn’t go around acting like a tough guy.”

Changbin laughed stepping closer. Placing your hand on his chest, you pressed firmly and waited for him to look at you. His anger disappeared as he regarded you, a lingering sadness swimming in his face. You needed to do something.

Turning to Jisung, you said, “Jisung, please. Go.”

He frowned. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t make this harder.”

His voice cracked, the pain seeping through. “You’re really going to choose him? After leaving you? Breaking your heart? You’re still going to choose him over me?”

You didn’t know what to say. You wished you could take away his pain. Before you could say anything else, he was in his car and went as quickly as he came. You were in Changbin’s previous place now, facing the parking lot and wondering where your place was in this town. All you had been was a shell of your past self these last few months, and it was all because of Changbin. Is that who you were? Just Changbin’s girl?

No. You were more than that.

This time, when his hands found yours, you pulled away. You ignored his pain as best you could as you shook your head. “I can’t just forget what you did. You destroyed what we were when you vowed you wouldn’t. You know how hard it was for me to trust you. You used that against me, made me fall in love with you, just so you could shoot me in the heart.”

“I-”

“No. No, Changbin. You’re not who I thought you were. And I’m not the Y/N I once was. And I won’t put myself through that again. I will always love you, but I love myself more. So let me breathe.”

He took a step back, the defenses you had spent years breaking down building up right before your eyes. If you had known how easy it was to keep from loving him, you wonder if you would have gone back in time and stopped anything from happening.

Figuring it was done, you turned away and headed for the entrance to the burger joint. Just as you reached the door, his words stopped you in your tracks.

“I wasn’t lying when I told you I would be back for you. And when I knew I had to be a better man for you the next time I saw you. I’ll respect your wishes. But I will prove to you that I will love you right for the rest of my life. I will always be yours, Y/N.”

You only looked at him one last time before going inside. When you sat across from Rosé and got the courage to look out the window, that Impala you knew all too well was gone.

And as the sensation of his lips lingered on your own, you answered your own thoughts.

No, you would never go back in time and erase everything you had with him. No matter the outcome, he will always be the boy that taught you how to love.

Coming back for you, huh?

You’ll believe that when you see it.

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