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solohux · 2 years

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Prompt? Maybe? Idk, I really just wanted to get this idea out there. You decide what you wanna do with it. Okay, so AU where Snoke is extra kind and nice to Hux, because Snoke uses Hux as a reward for Kylo. Snoke needs to keep Hux (his apprentice’s pretty little prize) comfortable and healthy, so he can be the best reward possible for Kylo. Kylo and Hux play along, but they were attracted to each other long before Snoke decided to use Hux as a reward. KYLO: Just play along, kitten. I like seeing you all nice and pampered, just like you deserve. Oh, don’t give me that look, pretty boy. Stop pouting! A precious jewel like you deserves all this and more. Now act docile for Snoke, and I’ll blow up a rebel planet for you, okay?

“I must say, General Hux, you are looking particularly delectable today.”

The compliment, however kind, makes Hux want to shiver; Snoke’s low-timbre voice is infinitely creepier when delivering sweet words to his highest ranking General, his gaze eating him up like a Life Day ham.

“Thank you, Supreme Leader,” Hux graciously replies, successfully hiding his disgust. “Your most recent gift has proven beneficial to every aspect of my wellbeing.”

“Indeed,” Snoke raises a non-existent eyebrow. “The natives on Irial IV have conducted research for centuries on chirapsia and its health benefits. I trust that the rest of your visit to the resort was just as pleasant?”

Hux swallows hard. “Yes, sir. I feel refreshed and ready to serve.”

“Good,” Snoke says, sitting back in his throne. “I am most pleased with how you have taken to your role as Kylo Ren’s prize, General.”

“He is a vital member of the First Order, Supreme Leader. I am happy to do my part so that he may do his.”

“And play his part, he shall,” Snoke comments. “My apprentice’s needs are complicated but I have indeed noticed a difference in his performance as a warrior ever since you became his reward.”

“So have I, Superme Leader.”

“Good. Now, go,” Snoke waves his hand towards the door. “He has returned from a successful mission on Omowwn. He will require his pretty little prize to service him. You will do whatever he asks of you and your body.”

“Of course, Leader Snoke. I shall go to him with haste.”

Snoke’s giant hologram fizzles out before Hux has even has the chance to turn away; still, the old creature doesn’t see the smirk on the General’s lips as he exits.

Kylo’s chambers aren’t far from the holochamber so Hux is there in no time, inputting the entry code—Hux’s own birthday—into the padd and letting himself in.

Kylo is there, fresh from his mission on the jungle planet of Omowwn in search of an ancient temple. By the looks of the artefacts that surround him on the floor, he was successful. His dirtied robes have been thrown into the corner, ready for the laundry BB-droid to collect later, so he sits barefoot with just a sleeveless undershirt and soft trousers.

“General Hux,” Kylo stands up as soon as the door closes behind the visiting General.

Hux sheds his greatcoat, putting it on the hook beside the door and remembers Snoke’s words; ‘you will do whatever he asks of you’. In their loving, committed relationship, Kylo never asks Hux for anything.

“Sweetheart,” Kylo says, taking Hux into his arms, lifting him and spinning them both around as their lips meet. “I missed you.”

Hux smiles, “You’ve gone soft, Master Ren. But I suppose that I missed you too.”

Kylo chuckles, showing off his beautifully crooked teeth. Their lips meet again, heated and desperate this time as Kylo eases them both down onto the couch with Hux still cradled in his hold, now sitting in his lap. After pulling apart, Hux watches as Kylo’s eyes get lost in his, his gaze seemingly devouring him softly.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” Kylo asks eventually, reaching up to brush his fingers through it. “And I think your freckles have come out.”

“Oh,” Hux huffs, ruffling his hair and then patting his cheeks. “Your Master sent me planetside to Irial IV to receive a pampering and a spa treatment ready for your return so that I may service you as your prize for a victorious mission. Ridiculous.”

Kylo laughs, “It isn’t ridiculous, Hux. You deserve to be nice and pampered. Stop pouting.”

“I’m not a prize to be won, Ren,” Hux scowls, giving his lover a playful smack.

“No but Snoke is right about one thing,” Kylo shakes his head but takes hold of the lapels of Hux’s uniform jacket, pulling him forward to entice him into a kiss but Hux is resilient and teasing. “You are mine.”

“Just as you are mine, hm?” Hux bites his lip, pulling away.

“Of course, General. But we have to play it how Snoke wants it. He doesn’t approve of attachments like this. He says they’d only weaken me but sexual relief aids my training.”

“Ugh, did he say that? Sexual relief?” Hux feigns a disgusted shiver, making Kylo laugh.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. And it was as awkward as you’re imagining.” Kylo’s smile fades as he glances down, allowing one hand to gently slide up Hux’s thigh. “I don’t know what he’d do if he found out that I have real feelings for you. I couldn’t stand to lose you, Hux.”

Hux can see the emotion welling in Kylo’s eyes, the way his hand has closed into a fist upon his leg.

“Alright, Ren. It’ alright,” Hux hushes. “I won’t object to anything. I just begrudge being used as a ‘reward’.”

“But you aren’t, sweetheart. I love you. A precious jewel like you deserves all of this and more. Maybe a Resistance base or two destroyed in your honour?”

Hux’s eyes light up, his cheeks glowing. “Well, mighty warrior Ren. Perhaps after your prize has serviced you, you’ll be up to destroying a rebel planet for me?”

Kylo almost growls with excitement and moves quickly, flipping Hux over so he’s lying on the couch, legs spread wide and Kylo nestled between them.

Perhaps being Kylo’s prize isn’t a terrible thing after all.

#what a terrible ending sentence but i was stuck!!#kylux #snoke is creepy #m:writing

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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Ok so maybe its too late but ive been re-reading some of your fics and one of them was sirius being disowned. We saw remus' recation, and also james', regulus', and dumo's. What about remus' family's reaction? WHAT WOULD HOPLE AND LYALL SAY? AND JULIAN?

It’s never too late for Lupin love! Thank you for such a lovely prompt <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Read the rest of the series here!

Sirius had never seen his mother-in-law so furious.

“We’re making a pie,” she said as soon as the door opened. No, not said—ordered.

“Okay.” He let them inside and immediately almost lost a few ribs to Jules’ hug. “Hey, buddy, how’s it going?”

Jules stayed silent, swaying back and forth slightly with his eyes squeezed shut. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. What’s going on?” Sirius glanced back to the porch, where Remus was waiting behind his father with an amused look on his face.

Something clattered in the kitchen as Hope went through like a hurricane. “Remus John, where do you keep your stepstools?”

“Was the middle name really necessary?” Remus muttered as he stepped into the house. “We don’t have any stepstools, mom! What do you need?”

“A mixing bowl!”

“Hang on, I’ll be there in a second.”

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Sirius patted his lower back and headed toward the kitchen, still dragging Jules along on one leg. Hope’s classic low bun was lopsided from her efforts, and her gray-streaked flyaways practically levitated on their own. “Mixing bowls?”

“Three, please. Julian, you’re cutting off his circulation.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Sirius assured her. “How’s Wisconsin?”

“Cold, believe it or not,” she said with a wry smile as she gathered an array of familiar ingredients. “How’s everything here?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Not too bad. We’ve been—”

“Hattie!” Jules shouted gleefully, sprinting toward the back door at light speed. Hattie spotted him half a second later and exploded into a ball of joy; she flung herself into his lap and they scrambled around before running back outside.

“We’ve been good,” Sirius finished around his laughter. “The season’s picking up again soon, so we’ve both been busy.”

Hope hummed to herself, scanning his face. After a moment, she patted the counter with her hand and passed him a sifter. “Four cups of flour in the bowl, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They worked elbow-to-elbow for close to half an hour, keeping easy conversation through the noise of the rest of the house. Sirius usually hated small talk, but it was never awkward with Hope. She let it flow naturally and never took offense when he lapsed into general noises of agreement to avoid saying the ‘wrong thing’.

Sirius wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what she was doing. Starting off with friendly banter, doing an activity together, sprinkling gentle touches to his arm or elbow—it was a classic Lupin attempt at buttering him up before going in for the heart of the issue.

Less than five minutes into rolling the dough, Hope stopped mid-sentence and raised an eyebrow at him. “You know what I’m getting to, don’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Hm.” Her next push on the lumpy ball had a little extra force, and he felt the calm atmosphere start to sizzle. “I’m not angry with you.”

“I hope not.”

“I am rarely ever angry with you.”

“That’s good to know.” He passed her a little bit more flour and a small smile crinkled her eyes.

“You’re getting good at this. Won’t even need me, soon.”

“It’s not as much fun alone.”

Hope sighed and paused her steady kneading. “You are a wonderful young man, Sirius.”

“Thank you.”

“So I hope you’ll forgive me when I say your mother is a bitch.” Sirius mouth fell open a bit in utter shock, but Hope kept going, and her kneading grew even more aggressive. “The few times I’ve had the misfortune of hearing her speak, it has only been about hateful, horrible things. She doesn’t deserve a sweet boy like Regulus and she certainly doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

“Hope—”

She turned to face him and cupped his cheeks in flour-coated hands, pulling him down for a kiss to the forehead. “The greatest mistake of her life was not recognizing everything brilliant about you. We’re here for whatever you need, Sirius.”

He swallowed back the urge to dissolve into a puddle of tears right there on the kitchen floor. “You might have to arm wrestle Celeste for that.”

Hope patted his cheek with a twinkle in her eye. “We’ll coparent. Now put those big hockey muscles to work and help me roll this crust out.”

Remus poked his head into the room and tapped gently on the doorframe. “Knock, knock—”

“Who’s there?” Sirius asked, grinning at the withering look it earned him.

“You’re terrible. Can we switch? My dad wants to talk to you for a second.”

He looked to Hope, who huffed. “You’re stealing my employee.”

“I could help!”

“If you split the crust again, I’m reinstating your ban.”

Sirius turned to him with a wide smile. “You’re banned from pie-making?”

“It’s not official,” Remus grumbled as they swapped places. “But yes. Apparently, teaspoons and tablespoons are significantly different.”

“Yeah, honey, that’s why they have different names,” Sirius laughed, bending down for a kiss before he left them to their devices. Hopefully, the pie would still be intact when he returned.

Lyall was waiting in the living room, watching Hattie and Jules roll through the backyard in a mess of grass stains; he looked away from the window when Sirius entered, then crossed the room in three long strides and wrapped him in a hug. They were quiet for a few seconds before he stepped away and held him at arm’s length with a hand on each shoulder. “My wife is incredibly upset on your behalf.”

Sirius snorted. “I could tell.”

“We’re both very proud of you.”

His breath caught; hearing that from anyone was always overwhelming, but from someone like Lyall… “Thank you. That—that really means a lot.”

It wasn’t nearly enough words to express his gratitude (and his love, and his devotion, and his genuine relief that the Lupins thought he was good enough) but Lyall seemed to understand. With a final pat to Sirius’ shoulder, he tilted his head toward the kitchen. “You might want to rescue your husband before he gets smacked with a wooden spoon for stealing the filling.”

“Has he always done that?” Sirius asked as they walked out of the living room. “I kept thinking I was going crazy when the frosting started to disappear.”

“If it has even an ounce of sugar, it’s fair game. Jules seems to share that inclination.”

They entered the kitchen just as Remus popped an apple slice in his mouth and received a light whack to the back of the hand with Hope’s spoon. “No!”

“It’s good!” Remus protested.

“Lyall, are you done—oh, excellent!” Hope lit up when she saw them and shooed her son away from the bowl. “Sirius, please control your spouse.”

“I’ll do my best,” he laughed as Remus leaned up on his tiptoes for a kiss; his lips tasted like cinnamon, sugar, and home.

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daddyjackfrost · 3 years

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i accidentally deleted your request anon😭 but i managed to take a pic before! so, here it is!

prompt 36: “fuck you scared me... don’t you do that ever again!”

prompt 37: “are you afraid to die?”

warnings: angst, talk about death, kinda grim, self indulgent (just a bit! y/n’s thought process) car accident, loss of memory, crying osamu

osamu miya x gn!reader (intended lower case)

in the comfort of the darkness, you sat on your sweater on a hill that overlooked your neighbourhood.

after a long day of school and work, you managed to squeeze some time of solitude for your thoughts.

with your knees pulled to your chest and your chin resting on your crossed arms, you inhaled the sweet scent of freedom.

out here, away from the busy streets and tall buildings, you were free. out here, with only the trees and stars to keep you company, you were content with life.

you heard rustling behind you and shut your eyes, inhaling a long breath before you heard a familiar voice quietly call out to you.

“here,” you whispered.

you didn’t turn, nor did you look up. osamu laid a jacket beside you before sitting down next to you. his arm brushing against yours.

“how’d you know it was me?”

you smiled. it was the same question he asked you every time he received a text from you and met you up on your hill. and every time, you gave him the same answer.

“just a hunch.”

osamu drifted his eyes away from your face to the stars. there wasn’t much of a difference, he thought. the stars were just as captivating as you, you more so. you were just as fascinating as the stars, shining brightly in solitude and the dark.

without making any unnecessary noises, osamu leaned back on his hands, kicking his legs out in front of him.

he needed this break just as much as you did.

in the silence of the night, you and osamu sat together, letting the stress and sorrows of the previous week slip away.

simultaneously, you both leaned back, your heads resting on the soft fresh grass.

you gently shut your eyes, reminiscing in the quiet atmosphere. no one was here to bother you. there were no looming assignments or demeaning parents.

out here, it was just you and the stars.

and osamu.

“are ya afraid to die?”

your eyes flew open, and you turned your head, grass tickling your cheek.

osamu’s dark grey eyes twinkled as he stared into your eyes. you thought about his question. obscure thoughts tangled with apparent ones.

you turned your head, facing the dark sky.

“not really.”

osamu hummed. “why not?”

you lifted your hand, spreading your fingers so each nail connect with a stare.

“because it’s inevitable.”

osamu raised his eyebrow. shifting to his side to face you completely. “care to expand?”

“i’m not afraid to die because the second you’re welcomed into this world, you’re introduced to the concept of death. you know you’re going to die. so you live while you can.”

osamu’s eyes were set on you. you always sounded so old—mature—when you talked like this. like you knew things he couldn’t understand.

fate he couldn’t fathom.

“i’m not afraid to die because i’ve been preparing for it my whole life.”

you turned your head to meet osamu’s curious eyes.

“that’s a bit depressing,” osamu laughs.

you grin at him, your lips pulling into a breathtaking smile. “it is.”

after a few silent moments, you whispered,

“memento mori.”

“what?”

you pretended to squish the stars in between your thumb and index finger like grapes.

“it’s a latin phrase that originated from ancient rome.”

“what does it mean?”

osamu loved your knowledge of random things. he knew an abundance of phrases from different origins because of you.

“remember that you will die.”

“god, y/n,” osamu sighed. “you’re so grim.”

you smiled. “what? it keeps me grounded.” osamu let out a light chuckle.

“no matter what i do, how much money i make, who i marry, i’m not going to live forever. i won’t go down in history unless i do something monumental. i’ll live, i’ll aim for a good life, and then, inevitably, i’ll die. it helps remind me that stress and sadness does eventually come to and end.”

you licked your lips. “are you afraid to die?”

osamu shrugged. “yeah. i am.”

you shifted your weight to your side so you were completely facing him. with your arm bent under your head, you rested your head on your elbow.

“how come?”

osamu shifted his eyes to the ground before meeting yours again.

“i guess i’m afraid of not living my life to the fullest. i wanna be happy. do things that’ll make me smile. i wanna die knowing i lived the best i could.”

you gently smiled at him. “what’s stopping you?”

silence.

osamu stared at you like he didn’t know how to comprehend your question.

what was stopping him?

he was young, talented, and persistent.

a heavy realization fell upon osamu. there was nothing stopping him. he was stopping him.

the only person who stood between his happiness, was himself.

with a goofy smile, osamu turned to face the stars.

“nothing. nothing at all.”

you smiled at him, happy he understood. you gently pushed yourself up, letting out a small yawn. you stretched your arms, sighing when you heard your shoulders quietly crack.

“time to go home.”

osamu let out a whine. “do we have too?”

you stood up, brushing your jeans with your hands. you grabbed your sweater, slipping it on.

“yes, ‘samu.” you narrowed your eyes at his frown. “we have school tomorrow.”

osamu rolled his eyes, but got up anyways. he grabbed his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder.

“let’s go home then.”

you both walked down the hill and into the street, bickering and laughing.

your heart felt so full. this is what you were afraid of losing. this laughter and feeling of content. you weren’t afraid of dying, you were afraid of loosing the feeling of your heart being full forever.

so when you pushed osamu out of the way, and a car came blazing towards you, you didn’t have a moment to think about what was going to happen.

only that you really liked laughing and would miss it.

before the pain took over, you remembered hearing osamu’s loud and panicked voice yell your name. the last thing you saw were his tear-filled grey eyes.

***

the smell of antiseptic, stainless steel, and blood filled your senses and your eyes flew open.

as quickly as you opened your eyes, you squeezed them shut. the bright lights of the hospital room too strong for your weak eyes.

the machines around you buzzed and you groaned. pain had enveloped you completely and you licked your dry lips.

your head was pounding and your memory was hazy. you pulled yourself up, wincing in pain when the iv in your arm moved with you.

you gently opened your eyes, blinking to get used to the bright white light.

your eyes swept across the large hospital room and your frowned.

how did i get here?

your eyes fell on a mop of grey hair and you blinked a few times to clear your vision. your eyes took in the male sitting by your bed, his eyes closed and his lips pulled into a frown.

you tried putting a name to the far familiar face, but you came up empty, and at that thought, you started spluttering, trying to form words.

at the sound of your hoarse breath, the grey-haired man’s eyes flew open and locked on you.

your eyes were locked on the rheumy and heavy-lidded eyes, the taste of familiarity on your tongue but unidentifiable.

“y/n...”

the voice you had heard in your dreams whispered a name you knew was yours.

you licked your cracks lips. “water.”

immediately, the trance the man was in has broken and he sprang up, grabbing a water bottle and handing it to you. you hesitatingly grabbed it, staring at the lid before gently twisting it.

the man stared at you, his eyes burning holes into you. you kept your gaze on your bed, afraid of the pain you felt when you looked at him.

he quickly left the room, yelling an unfamiliar name loudly.

you drank half of the water bottle before twisting the cap back on. you leaned back, wincing. you gingerly brought your hand to your forehead, gasping at the feeling of bandage.

a tall, thin and pale man with light brown hair and round glasses walked into the room. he wore a long white coat and was holding a clipboard. the same man with grey hair and a women of much shorter height with tear-stained cheeks walked in behind him.

the man, whom you assumed was a doctor, walked up to you, keeping a distance. he smiled at you before motioning to the chair beside you.

you nodded, unable to use your words.

“y/n, i’m doctor kim.” he waited before you met his eyes. “do you know where you are?”

you stared at him. he waited patiently until you gently nodded. “the hospital.”

doctor kim smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“that’s right. can you tell me your full name?”

you stared at him, your eyebrows furrowed. you tried remembering, but your head began to hurt profoundly. it was like there was a wall that separated you from your memories.

“it’s okay,” doctor kim whispered. “you must feel disoriented.”

you didn’t nod, just fought the wall. you knew that you had a last name. it was right there, but unaccessible.

after a few painfully silent moments later, you let out a heavy sigh.

“l/n. y/n l/n.”

doctor kim smiled and the women in the corner of the room let out a sob, her hand coming to cover her mouth.

you stared at the women, a wave of familiarity hit you and you frowned. you knew her. so why couldn’t you remember?

“y/n,” you turned your head to face the calm eyes of the doctor. “you were in an accident.”

your frown deepened. “i don’t... remember.”

doctor kim nodded, his eyes glancing at the clipboard before he smiled a faux smile at you.

“you hit your head really hard. it’ll take you a few days to regain all your memories. you remember your name, that’s great process. over the week, your memories should all come back to you.”

you nodded. an accident? why didn’t you remember? and why was the man with grey hair staring at you like that?

doctor kim checked the machines before making his way to the door. he smiled at you and then looked at the women.

“ms. l/n, can you come with me to fill out a few pages?”

your breath hitched. your eyes were locked on familiar ones and you quietly whispered, “mom?”

your mother painfully smiled at you before running out the door behind the doctor. you watched her go with a frowned.

you turned your head to the man who stood in the corner. his posture was rigid and you were sure he hadn’t blinked since he walked in the room. his gaze unwavering.

you shifted your eyes from his, his gaze too intense.

“can i... can i sit?”

you nodded. his voice was intensely familiar. it was the voice you heard in your dreams. the one you had grew attached too.

osamu sat on the chair with hesitation. he was feeling so many things at once. you had been in a week long coma, and osamu hadn’t had a moment of rest since he sat with you in the ambulance.

osamu let out a heavy sigh, bringing his hands to cover his face. you watched him from the corner of your vision. he felt so familiar, so why couldn’t you recall his name?

osamu began to cry, his shoulders shaking.

you turned your head to face him, your lips set into a permanent frown. for some reason unknown to you, your heart hurt at the sight of his tears.

“fuck, y/n,” osamu lifted his head. his eyes brimmed with red. “you scared me.”

you stared at him, unsure of what to do. you didn’t know why you had scared him. but his shoulders shook and his lips trembled, so you stayed quiet.

“don’t you— don’t you do that ever again!”

you just silently watched as the grey-haired man cried and yelled at you. “don’t you ever push me away! don’t you ever try and save me again!”

the room was heavy with silence. the grey haired man sobbed into his hands and the machines buzzed in your head.

you don’t know what compelled you to say this, but you did anyways. it felt right. like the man crying in front of you deserved to hear these words.

“i won’t. i’m sorry.”

at the sound of your voice, his crying grew quieter and after a few moments, he wiped his tears, his bloodshot eyes staring at you.

“promise me.”

you saw the whirlpool of emotions in his grey eyes and although you couldn’t decipher them, you promised anyways.

when he smiled, his cheeks using muscles it hadn’t in a week, you suddenly felt guilty.

you had promised to a stranger.

a stranger who seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.

a stranger who seemed to think you knew him.

i didn’t know what kind of angst you wanted anon, so i kinda went with the flow! also, i was too lazy to add capitals. so. i think it adds to the theme. sure.

also yes. doctor kim from dr. romantic. sue me.

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @snoozless @ackerpotato @asterroidd @rinrinniesstuff @bokuatsubro @literaleftist @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @addicedtoeverythinganime @felixsamour @megumeee @aghashiii @fail-big @kailleis-sunshine

requests are closed.

hana’s author note.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu angst #miya osamu #hq osamu #osamu scenarios #osamu x reader #osamu angst #osamu x y/n #hq x you #hq angst #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq imagines #hq prompts #hana.writes!

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plsimsuchasimp · 3 years

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i’m sorry (ft: sugawara).

by request: “Hi!!!! Okay im so glad your requests are open - could I please request some angst with Sugawara? Where the reader is his best friend and secretly loves him but he doesn’t know? Then maybe the reader and Suga fight and then reader gets hurt or something (maybe a car accident) and when the Karasuno team finds out, Suga is devastated and goes to the hospital and tell the reader that he loves them?? Thank you!! ❤️” -anon

yes anon i’m happy to do this- i kinda changed up the prompt a lil bit so i’m sorry about that but i hope this measures up to your standards! (i’m ridiculously soft for suga so this makes sense)

genre: sadness (literal tears were shed in the process of making this)

ft: sugawara koushi x reader

warnings: car crash, fighting, cursing, hospitalization, death

wc: 2k

“Y/n, why are you so upset? I get that you’re concerned, and I’m grateful for that, but she’s genuinely a good person and I’m serious about her!” Suga walks away from you, his back turned, shoulders raised slightly in his sweater. You can sense his frustration, his confusion, but you don’t care. His face is pouty, lip sticking out ever so slightly, and you know you can’t look at him or you won’t be able to keep yourself from kissing him right then and there.

The thing is, you know she’s a good person. And that’s what hurts. See, you’ve been in love with Sugawara Koushi since the day you met him at the bus stop five years ago, on a hot summer day with a butterfly in his hair.

You can’t stop him from getting a new girlfriend, and you know it’s selfish of you to hope he likes you the way you like him, to hold on to him for all these years.

Sometimes when it’s late, you let yourself drift into your memories. The spring days when he would take you hiking, out into the mountains to show you his favorite spots, the times when your stomachs hurt from laughing at the dirty jokes he found off of random places on the internet, the rainy moments and baking cookies when it just seemed calm. With Suga, you felt at home like nowhere else.

Now, your eyes sting unfairly, and you turn away from him as he glares towards you, brow furrowed. Struggling to keep your voice even, you say, “I know, okay Kou? I just- I don’t know, she gives me bad vibes.”

You know he doesn’t mean to be rude, but when he scoffs, your heart squeezes just a bit and tears prick your eyes. “You’re telling me to call off a whole relationship because she gives you bad vibes? You did this with all of my exes, too!” Suga sighs, hands on his hips. “You know you’re my best friend, but honestly, y/n, this has to stop. You can’t control my life!”

He’s right. You know he’s right, and that’s the harsh thing about it. You want him all to yourself- everything about him is entrancing, intoxicating, familiar. Jealousy is a bitch.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

At this point, his jaw drops open at the sheer audacity of your remark. “I can’t do this with you today.” He throws up his hands and sits on the bed, making it clear he doesn’t really want to talk anymore.

Suga never really fights with you. He teases endlessly, but he always stops himself before he really hurts you, and the fights between the two of you are always calmer on his side. He’s usually the first to apologize, but it seems this is a sticking point for the two of you.

“Well? Go!” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets it. You flinch backwards at his words, and he doesn’t miss the unmistakable glint of tears in your eyes as you walk out of the room.

“Fine, I guess I will!” As soon as you’re outside, you cover your mouth with your hand, your vision blurred from large drops threatening to spill from your eyelashes. You muffle your sobs with the sleeve of a sweatshirt Suga lent you, and it just makes you cry harder when you breathe in his slight cologne.

He wasn’t going to let her go this time. You missed your chance.

You’re running, but where to? As soon as your thoughts stop spinning, your feet freeze, and you glance around you. Shaky breaths escape you as you duck your head and attempt to cross the street, questioning looks from passerby making your cheeks heat up.

All of a sudden, you hear a car horn and freeze to see a car speeding towards you, out of control. The last thing you see before everything goes black is a child pointing at you, and you almost laugh at the incredulity of the situation. Then you black out on impact.

Back at Suga’s home, he sits in his bed, running his fingers through his silky hair. He curses under his breath, already hating the feeling.

He hates when the only person he’s ever truly loved is mad at him.

Honestly, Koushi can’t fathom why he keeps getting other people to date him, momentary distractions from his everlasting affection for you. You, the only person who’s there for him when he’s hurting, the only real friend to stay near him through everything, the only person he fell in love with on first sight. He wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to ruin this was.

Better to be certain friends with you and never get what he truly wanted than to try and lose you completely.

Suga picks up the phone to text you when he receives a call from an unfamiliar number, marked as the hospital of your district.

“Hello?"

“Is this Sugawara Koushi?” The female voice on the other end of the line asks.

“Yes, is everything okay?” He responds, curious as to why the hospital is calling him in the middle of the day.

“Well, we have Y/N L/N here, and you’re listed as one of their emergency contacts. Would you mind coming to the hospital to fill out some paperwork?”

Immediately, his world freezes. “W-what did you say?”

“I said, Y/N L/N is in the hospital and we need you to come in and see them.” She’s patient with him, voice even and calm, clearly used to people in shock from news of their loved ones. “They were involved in a car accident.”

He nods, momentarily forgetting she can’t see him. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

The line clicks, and he sits there for only a minute before hurrying down to his car, grabbing the keys and starting the car. He seems to forget basic movements, mind consumed only with thoughts of you.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered, edging above the speed limit on the road. He was tempted to honk at someone, but refrains from it, knowing it won’t help with the turmoil of emotions he was feeling.

Then, it hit him. This was his fault. He almost stopped the car in the middle of the road, throat closing as guilt washed over him. Koushi didn’t know you’d take it so hard, didn’t mean for it to come off that harshly.

He arrived at the hospital, and as he walked in, the receptionist looked up at him.

“Sugawara Koushi?”

“Yes,” he said, and watched the smile slowly fade from her face. He noticed she tried to hide it, ducking her head, but it was too late. “Are they- are they going to be okay?” he gulped as she didn’t respond.

“Room 208,” she said curtly, “You should probably go in.”

The lights seemed to blur into each other as Suga practically ran to your room. Every footstep seemed to take forever, travel only a few centimeters forward. He couldn’t get there fast enough, accidentally bumping into the wall and muttering a hushed “sorry” to it.

He arrived. The door was almost too heavy, or maybe it was just the fear making his limbs heavy as lead.

There you lay, and it was worse than he thought. Tubes of all sorts trailed from your body to things around the bed, crowding and seeming to close you in. Scratches ran down your cheek and there was dried blood on your hairline, streaking down your face. The breath fell from his throat and he stood in the doorway, paralyzed.

This could not be happening.

One look and he could tell you weren’t going to be okay. An IV drip led into your left arm, and you were unconscious, so fragile, so angelic. It looked as if you were only sleeping, like the countless times you’d snuggled into Suga’s shoulder in the warm summer nights, staring at the blanket of glittering stars far above. The ones in your eyes, though, outshone them all.

When you slept, you always seemed so peaceful, so comforted, but now your brow was slightly furrowed, your lips drained of color and slightly parted. Even in this state, you were still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

Shakily, he made his way to the chair and sat down in it. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry, and tears were dripping down his face before he could wipe them away. A choked sob escaped him as he reached out his hand, hovering over your limp one.

He took your hand, and he hunched over to feel how cold it was. Your hands were always colder than his, which made him a perfect match for you. Never before, though, had he felt this ice.

Suga’s shoulders began to shake, and he clutched your hand, silently begging you not to leave, please please please don’t leave me, i don’t know if i can survive without you. Of course, there was no response but the steady beep of the heart monitor, the only thing reassuring him that you were still there.

Shaking, he brought your hand to his lips, barely brushing them against your knuckles.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Whispered words fell gently from his lips, trying to stay composed for you. “Please stay with me. Please don’t leave.” His tone rises, voice breaking in desperation. “P-please.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rocked back and forth, holding your hand as if it was the only thing tying him down. “I-I love you.”

There. He said it, those three words he’d wanted to say since the day he saw you smile for the first time. Hopelessly, madly, endlessly in love with you, only you.

When you didn’t respond, he let himself sob, let the pain overtake him. Hot, salty tears spilled onto your hand, and he silently wished for a sign, a movement, anything to show that you weren’t gone just yet.

In that moment, he whispered everything he wanted to say to you, a thousand words choking him and clogging his throat to the point where he couldn’t breathe anymore.

The doctor came in, shutting the door silently behind him. “Sugawara-”

“Call me Suga.” His voice was quiet, reserved, threatening to break.

“I’m afraid y/n isn’t going to make it.” The doctor sighed, mercifully pretending not to notice Suga’s muffled cry. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“You’re joking, right?” Suga raised his head, puffy, red eyes desperate. “Please- tell me you’re joking.” The silence from the doctor told him otherwise, and Suga felt his heart shatter in that instant.

He squeezed your hand, and just as he did, the heart monitor stopped beeping, a flat tone emitting from it. He couldn’t stop the heartbroken cry from spilling from his mouth, his breath stolen by the endless constriction of guilt and grief in his chest.

He stayed there for another two hours, crying over your hand limp in his grasp. When Daichi arrived at the hospital to drive him home, he didn’t want to leave.

Suga stared out of the car window, numb. It was impossible- the world couldn’t be this cruel.

It’s your fault, your fault, your fault, the voice in his head whispered. The broken sobs that spilled out of him hurt, stabbed at his breathing, but he didn’t care. It was his fault that you were gone, forever.

The rest of the day passed in a haze, the sun setting with flared colors that you would have loved. The stars were brilliant, but Suga couldn’t look at them. His pillow smelled like you, and everywhere he looked had some imprint, some memory of you. You were the only person he’d ever love, and you had been stolen from the world in an instant.

In the months afterwards, nothing was the same. He saw you everywhere, expecting to see your texts pop up on his phone, accidentally ordered your drink at the boba place you would always go to.

At the funeral, his stiff black suit seemed awkward, but you always said he looked handsome in one. That was the last time he got to see your face besides pictures, the fading memory of the person who loved him for who he was.

the person who he would love for the rest of his life.

you’re an angel in my eyes.

a/n: tbh this is probably one of the most painful things i’ve written so far suga im so sorry also THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 50 FOLLOWERS ITS CRAZY i finished this at 2am i’m going to be so sad if it flops <\3

#sugawara koushi #suga x reader #sugawara x y/n #koushi sugawara #sugawara angst #sugawara sadness #i'm literally so sorry this is very sad #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst #haikyuu sad #suga x y/n #suga x you #sugawara x reader

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

574 notes · View notes

artyblogs · 3 years

Text

Best Wingman Ever

Read on Ao3

Summary: For @caruliaweek. Prompt: Surprise. After the fight in the pyramid, Julia doesn’t feel so hot, so she checks into a hospital. Carmen finds out and has concerns, so she goes to see her.

---

The longer the press conference goes on, the more discomfort Julia feels. It started in the pyramid, after Countess Cleo pushed her into that godforsaken pit, and she managed to catch the edge with her elbows. Her legs swung under her and something in her torso tore. Or broke. It certainly seemed like something snapped judging by the searing pain that lanced through her chest.

She was able to ignore the pain for the rest of the time they were in the pyramid, half because of the adrenaline coursing through her system, half because…well, it seemed pittance in the face of certain death. But now, in front of all these reporters, with the adrenaline draining from her body, the ache grows and grows until she sweats under her collar from the exertion of standing upright.

Every breath Julia takes is fire.

Either the reporters don’t notice what is happening, or they attribute Julia’s flush to the strong Egyptian sun, because they don’t ask what is wrong. They ask her if she will be heading the effort to catalogue all of these artifacts (she won’t be; all this treasure is technically on Egyptian soil, so it is up to the Egyptian government to come up with a plan), or if she will be working with Egyptologists and other archaeologists to catalogue them (again, that’s technically the jurisdiction of the Egyptian government. If invited, she’d help, but she needs to be invited).

Eventually, they have enough information for their segments, and Julia and Chase end the press conference and slink off towards the parking lot. Julia waits until they are out of earshot of the reporters, and far away enough to be indiscernible by the cameras, before she runs a cautious hand over her ribs.

It doesn’t seem like anything’s broken, but a simple swipe of her palm induces agony. Julia sinks to her knees.

“Miss Argent? What’s wrong?” Chase kneels next to her, his hands hovering, but not descending. He’s probably afraid of making things worse.

It feels like her chest is imploding. Julia tries to catch her breath, but cannot get any words out. Chase takes out his cell phone and dials a number.

“‘Allo? Please send an ambulance, there is an injured woman who needs help.”

---

Julia had hoped that she would be able to tough it out until she got back to the UK because at least there, she would have all of her identification. Here in this private hospital in Cairo, she has nothing. Besides the press conference and Chase, no one knows that she is here. The fact that a whole person could be disappeared like that, that she could be misplaced, is disquieting.

The walls of the hospital room muffle the car horns and loud voices in the street. If Julia closes her eyes, she can imagine that she is slowly sinking into sand, like so many forgotten baubles in the desert.

CLICK.

The door to her hospital room opens to reveal Chase, who carries a grease-stained paper bag and a cardboard drink tray with two paper cups.

“Miss Argent?”

“Agent Devineaux!” Julia tosses the thin, hospital blanket aside and—very, very carefully—sits up and unfolds her legs over the side of the hospital bed. In the back of her left hand there is taped an IV line, and she lightly pushes the IV rack a little to make room for him.

Chase gently closes the door behind him, then he takes the back of a visitor’s chair and drags it to her bedside. He places the tray of drinks on the side table next to a prescription bag, and holds out the greasy paper bag for Julia to open up.

Julia delves into it and finds two shawarma wraps carefully bundled in foil. “Which one is mine?”

“They are the same.”

Julia takes one of the wraps and opens it up, the foil shredding between her hands, and bites into it. The shawarma is a mess of sliced lamb and garlic and spices. Still hot. Smothered in yogurt and lemon juice. She had a similar shawarma years ago when she first visited Egypt during a field archaeology class, and she has been searching for a comparable place ever since.

Nothing has even come close. Julia licks a stray drop of yogurt from her thumb and takes another bite.

“They didn’t feed you, did they?”

Are her table manners that bad? Julia hesitates, then slowly shakes her head to agree. Chase frowns and unwraps his own shawarma. They eat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the muted noon adhan ring out across the city. Eventually, the food is done, and they crumple the foil into balls and toss them into the paper bag, and Chase holds out one of the drinks to Julia.

“Where is the medicine?” He asks.

“On the table. Can you get it?”

Chase opens the prescription bag and blanches. “Miss Argent, this is…eh….”

“It’s just one of each.” Julia chews on the straw and holds out her hand. “Do you mind?”

Thus begins an absurd process: Chase takes out a pill bottle, twists it open, and shakes a pill into Julia’s hand. Julia claps it into her mouth and takes a swig of water while Chase recaps the bottle and sets it aside on the side table.

They do this five times.

At last, Chase sets the empty bag next to the bottles and stares at the display ruefully. “Miss Argent?”

“Hmm?”

“What did they do to you?” He’s unusually subdued.

Julia’s ribs twinge. “I am an ancient historian, and VILE needed to decode ancient languages.”

Chase’s frown deepens. “I have taken similar pills for what I assume are similar kinds of injuries, Miss Argent. Please.”

“They were not nice people,” Julia finally says. She doesn’t…she cannot describe what happened, because to do so would require her to travel there in her mind.

“Miss Argent,” Chase says, now truly alarmed. It’s funny, in a way. A year ago, he would have probably given anything to shut her up and today, he can’t get her to say anything.

“I can describe what they looked like,” Julia says. She can do that, at least. Chase reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out his cell phone, which he unlocks and gives to her.

The screen is cracked. Julia gingerly taps and swipes to navigate to a specific face-generating app, and uses sliding scales to change the different attributes.

“How are you getting back to Oxford?” Chase asks.

“There’s a British embassy down the street; I’ll go there first thing tomorrow,’ Julia says.

“Not today?”

“The doctor wants to keep me here overnight for observation.”

Another pause. Chase’s nose wrinkles as he scowls.

“It’ll keep, Agent Devineaux.” Julia takes a screenshot and refreshes the app to create another face.

Chase makes a noise as he sinks in his chair. “I shall go with you to the embassy tomorrow.”

Julia looks up. “Really?”

“You should not be alone. We do not know where VILE escaped to. They could still be here in Egypt.”

Julia is legitimately moved. She didn’t think it was possible for him to act this way. “Thank you, Agent.”

“Pas de problème.” Chase stares moodily out the window, so Julia returns to the app.

The minutes pass, but somehow it’s not as bad as before. Julia is in the middle of creating the last face when the screen blacks out for a call. She hands the phone back to Chase.

“Zari is calling you.”

“Eh?” Chase looks quizzically down at the phone, then takes the call. “‘Allo? Ah, Agent Zari. I will not be back for another forty-eight hours at least. What?” He pauses to listen. “Wait, now? But Miss Argent needs a security detail!” Chase tries to say more, but the voice on the other end rises in volume. Eventually, Chase’s shoulders slump in defeat. “Yes, yes, I’ll be on the next flight.” The call ends.

He turns to her and he might look as miserable as Julia feels. “Miss Argent, I, er.”

“Duty calls.” She says despite the sinking feeling in her gut. “You have three of the four faces at least. I’ll go to the embassy tomorrow, and you’ll visit me in Oxford when this is all over.”

“But VILE.”

“Aside from you, no one knows…no one knows I’m here. That anonymity will shield me.”

Chase’s jaw clenches, and he nods. “Until then, Miss Argent.”

“Goodbye, Agent Devineaux.”

He turns and leaves the hospital room.

---

Carmen does one more sweep of the hotel room before she zips her duffle for the final time. She doesn’t usually pack a lot on capers, but it pays to be vigilant.

“How is Jules getting back to the UK? Is Devineaux arranging that for her?”

Player absently hums as he types. “Oh yeah. She wouldn’t have any passport or anything, huh? Because she was kidnapped?”

“I want to make sure she isn’t stranded in Egypt.”

“I’ll take a look. And I could whip something up for her if Devineaux doesn’t have anything in place. How does sharing a plane with your favorite Oxford professor sound to you?”

“Ha ha.” Carmen throws a phone charger into the duffel and zips it closed. “Being close to Jules might not be such a good idea. VILE kidnapped her because of me.”

“VILE knows and now ACME knows too. You might as well go for broke, Red.”

“Go for broke doing what, exactly?” Carmen asks. “Don’t say, ‘Jules.’”

Player laughs. “I’m trying to be a good wingman here!”

“Jules has students, and bills, and maybe even a cat, or something. She has a life outside of all of this and I ruined that when I went to see her.”

“How dare you say that to me when I heard what she said when you guys talked in her office. What was it she called you? One of her ‘two key interests?’”

The sheer audacity. “Player.”

“Carmen.” But Player gasps and whispers a curse.

“What is it?”

“Uh.” More typing. “Julia isn’t going anywhere. She’s—uh. She’s checked into a hospital.”

All the hair whooshes out of Carmen’s lungs. When she last saw Julia, she was awake. She was responsive. She was standing unaided. She was…she was in VILE’s custody for at least twenty-four hours at that point, that’s what she was. Julia walking around in the pyramid this morning? Seemingly bright-eyed and bushy tailed? That doesn’t mean a thing if she’s in the hospital now.

BEEP. Carmen’s phone receives notifications as Player pushes an update to it. Address, map, and a plane ticket for the rescheduled flight back to Seattle. She pulls the duffle strap over her head and strides out of the hotel room.

---

In case of emergency, Player allegedly has a list of hospitals that he will trust with the safety of Team Red. Allegedly, because Carmen’s never seen Player’s desktop. When he tells her that Julia’s been admitted to one of those hospitals, it does little to ease the raging unease within her. Carmen gently opens the door to the hospital room and peers inside.

The blinds are drawn against the afternoon sun. A privacy screen is pulled halfway across the room, obscuring the single bed in the room. There is no television monitor, and instead a oscillating fan sweeps back and forth on low.

Carmen steps into the room and softly closes the door behind her. She lowers her duffel to the floor and creeps closer. While she didn’t see any local police, or any police-looking types staking out this hospital, and while she didn’t see any VILE operatives either, it helps to be cautious. When she peeks around the curtain, however, she only sees Julia.

Her glasses and suit jacket are gone, and a hospital blanket has been drawn up to her chest, but it is her. Carmen steps around the curtain to her, and she holds a hand a little ways from her mouth.

There’s a soft breath against her palm, and Carmen almost cries in relief.

“Red? Did you find her?” Player asks.

“She’s asleep,” Carmen whispers.

“Ah.” And Player falls silent.

She’s also alone. There are no guards, or orderlies, or nurses. Devineaux is nowhere to be found. If VILE found out that Julia was here, there would be nothing to stop them from taking her again. Carmen sinks down into the visitor’s chair.

Let them come. She will be enough to stop them.

Julia seems smaller in sleep. Her brow is smoothed free of complex thought, and her lips are slightly parted. A sunbeam falls across her face, highlighting the freckles dusting her cheeks. Julia’s dark hair is disheveled from the pillow, and her front fringe falls over her eyes. Carmen makes as it to smooth it away, but falters and instead, she pinches the hinges of Julia’s glasses and delicately lifts them from her face. She folds them, and starts looking for the rest of Julia’s things.

She finds pill bottles instead, lined up like soldiers at the back of the side table.

“Player?”

“Yeah?”

“When you found Jules’ file, it was bad, wasn’t it?” Carmen whispers.

“I didn’t look very long, because I didn’t want to snoop, but from what I did see? It wasn’t good.” He leans back from the mic and shouts something, then when he returns, he says, “I gotta go eat breakfast. Will you be okay for a minute?”

“Yeah. Go.” Carmen continues searching. She finds the rest of Julia’s things in a drawer in the side table. At the bottom are Julia’s shoes, over which is her suit jacket—carefully folded—and over that is her pendant. Carmen puts the glasses down beside the pendant and closes the drawer.

Julia wakes with a start. She gives a weak cry, and her feet kick out against the blanket. When she settles back down, she also puts a hand over her eyes.

“Jules?”

“Carmen?” Julia’s voice comes out strained and broken. Her hand cannot hide the furrow of her brow, nor can it hide the stuttering gasps she takes in a poor attempt to calm down.

“Surprise,” Carmen whispers. She holds her hand, the one with the IV line stuck into it, and Julia holds on tight. So tight that it might break her fingers and some dark part of Carmen thinks that she might deserve it. But it doesn’t last. Eventually, Julia’s breathing evens out, and her body relaxes against the bed, and her grip loosens, but she doesn’t let go. Julia drops her other hand to reveal red eyes.

She clears her throat. “How did you find me?”

It is so casual that it throws Carmen off. Are they really not going to discuss Julia’s state from not even a minute ago? But Julia looks at her expectantly, so she says, “Player found you. I was worried.”

“Thank you. I didn’t think….” Julia’s face screws up. “Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t. Jules, I am so sorry. VILE was never supposed to get a hold of you.”

“I’m not sorry,” Julia whispers. She winces as she eases up on the bed, and Carmen wants to help her, but doesn’t know how. Julia manages to sit upright anyway.

“You needed help. Was I supposed to say ’no?’” Julia asks. She even manages a half smile. “This was not your fault,” she says as she gestures to herself.

“They kidnapped you because of me.”

“Absurd. I mean, yes, they did. But that still wasn’t your fault. You might as well rage against an earthquake for bringing down a building, or at lightning for striking a tower. Criminal syndicates kidnap people; that’s just what they do. If not me, then it would have been some other poor sod.”

“Jules.”

“I mean it, Carmen. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

When Julia says it like that, Carmen might be able to believe it. “How bad is it? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The bridge of Julia’s nose wrinkles, so Carmen asks instead, “What happened?”

“I said ‘no.’ The taller woman—they called her ‘Countess Cleo’—she said that she would only ask for my services once. So I said ’no.’” Her brows furrow again and she bows her head, casting shadows on her face. “Those two men, Vlad and Boris, they were very persuasive. And I tried, I really, really tried. But I couldn’t.” Julia trails off and when she looks up again, her eyes are glassy. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

The idea that Julia should ever think of herself deficient in any way, that she could be convinced that that was the case, is so painful that Carmen’s heart could break. It is also equally vexing, because it is clearly untrue. The boldest lies that Carmen has ever heard.

“How could you apologize for being so brave?” Carmen asks.

“I’m supposed to be a former secret agent.”

“And? I don’t care about some arbitrary threshold of toughness. I’m just glad that you’re alive.”

Julia smiles and stares down at their clasped hands. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. Not that I’m in a rush, but the longer you’re here, the more dangerous it is for you. When are you getting discharged?”

“Next morning at the earliest. The doctors want to keep me overnight for observation.”

“So it’s that bad.”

“Carmen….”

But Carmen gestures to the pill bottles. “Jules. Come on. How bad is it?”

Julia sighs. “Hairline fractures in my fibs, and some minor internal bleeding.”

She mumbles this last part, but Carmen catches it anyway. Cold horror washes through her body. “Internal bleeding?”

“Minor internal bleeding. Carmen, don’t feel bad, or we’ll be going in circles all day.”

On the contrary. Carmen’s horror ignites into hot, unbridled rage, and she leaps out of her chair and starts pacing up and down the tiny room.

“Carmen?”

“They are never touching you again. Never again.” Carmen pauses just long enough to say before she continues to pace. Julia face softens a bit.

The door creaks open, and Carmen whirls around and grabs an extra chair. It’s one of those mass-produced plastic and wire things, light enough to throw across the room if needed. Julia too, falls silent.

But an orderly pokes their head in. “Visiting hours are over,” they says in Arabic. “Miss Santa Rosa, you must leave now.”

“No, no, she can stay,” someone else says from behind him. It sounds like the nurse who was manning the reception desk. “She’s her fiance. It’s in the file.”

“Eh? Okay.” The orderly turns back to them. “Have a good night.”

The door closes again.

The chair slips from Carmen’s nerveless fingers. On the bed, Julia turns away, her face and ears a brilliant red.

“You understood that,” Carmen says. It isn’t a question.

Julia, unable to speak, nods her head.

“Player, did you do that?” Carmen asks. Her earrings crackle to life.

“Do what?”

“The fiance thing.”

He chuckles. Actually chuckles. “Best wingman ever.”

Oh no. Carmen is going to die. She is going to shrivel up from mortification. What must Julia think? At the very least, she must think that Carmen’s such a creep.

“Do you want me to change it back?”

“You’ve done enough.”

Player chuckles again, this time with a darker tone. “So that’s a ‘no.’”

“Goodnight, Player.” And with that, Carmen taps her earring to mute.

“You can leave if you need to. You must be terribly busy,” Julia says.

“Never too busy for you,” Carmen says, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she can think too much about it. Julia flushes all over again.

---

Julia gasps awake, the ache in her ribs stealing her breath. Her left hand is clasped tight in Carmen’s, a lifeline tethering her to this this plane of existence.

She fell asleep.

They were talking. About anything and everything. One of those meandering conversations that are pointless, yet profound. Carmen is endlessly fascinating, of course. Julia couldn’t help but hang on her every word. When it was her turn to share, she tried her best to be as interesting, but she couldn’t help but feel so incredibly mundane. Carmen’s rapt attention must have been a facade done out of politeness, because there is no way that she could be just as interested in Julia. Carmen was just being kind.

They were just talking, and then the meds took over and she fell asleep.

“I’m right here, Jules.” Carmen’s worried face swims into focus and the bed dips as she sits next to her. The room is dark, save for a single nightlight plugged into a nearby outlet.

“Was it a nightmare?” Carmen asks.

“The pain from my ribs must be tricking my mind. Every time I go to sleep, I go right back to that safe house,” Julia whispers.

“What about a distraction?” Carmen asks. “If you felt something else, would that help?”

They both look at their hands. They’re still holding onto each other, with Carmen’s thumb gently pressing against Julia’s pale knuckle.

“It does seem to help,” Julia says. Somehow, realigning herself with reality is easier with Carmen around. Carmen’s brow furrows in thought, then she nods, as if making a decision.

“Okay, scoot.”

It takes Julia a moment to understand what Carmen means to do, and when she finally does figure it out, she briefly considers saying ‘no’ before the thought is immediately smothered without mercy. Perhaps it’s because Julia almost died this morning, or perhaps it’s because of the heady cocktail of medications currently running through her system. At any rate, Julia doesn’t say ’no.’

She scoots.

It takes a little maneuvering—Julia’s IV line has enough slack, but they don’t want to pinch it shut—and they take care to not jab elbows and knees, and the bed is already so narrow, but they manage it in the end. They end up facing each other, with Julia’s head cradled between Carmen’s arms, and their legs tangled together. Julia’s fingers curl in the belt of Carmen’s romper.

Carmen runs hot. The heat of her arm thrums against Julia’s ear. Her gray eyes are also very close. The distance between them is so negligible that if Julia were to move just a couple inches forward….

Well.

“Go to sleep,” Carmen whispers, her breath ghosting against Julia’s face. “I’ll be here.”

Julia closes her eyes and goes to sleep.

---

“Red.”

Carmen’s earrings turn on, and Player’s voice cuts through the still night.

“Red, wake up.”

Julia is still asleep. Carmen’s arm is getting a little numb, but hell, Julia can have it. She rolls away a little, not enough to disturb Julia, but just enough so that she can talk to Player without speaking directly into her face.

“What time is it?” She whispers.

“About one AM your time.” Player also lowers his voice to match hers, even though he’s a little speaker in her ear. “The Seattle base got torched.”

“What?”

“VILE destroyed it. They burned everything. And then in Oxford, another team torched Julia’s apartment and blew up her car. They blew it up, Red!”

Beside her, Julia stirs. “Wusrong?” She slurs.

Carmen’s heart sinks. “I’m so sorry, Jules.”

“This again? We talked about this, Carmen.” Julia’s sleepy expression melts away when Carmen doesn’t answer.

Carmen gently removes her arm from under Julia’s head, then maneuvers so that she doesn’t crush her, but she’s able to brace herself over her and align her head over hers so that she can also hear.

“Player? Explain.”

He explains. Julia tenses beneath her, and her hands tighten in Carmen’s clothes the longer he goes on.

“VILE must have wanted to retaliate, but when they couldn’t find either of you, they did the next best thing,” Player says.

“Phone,” Carmen says. She rolls off the bed and goes to her duffel bag. She takes out her phone and swipes across the screen to answer Player’s call. He appears on the screen, and she tosses the phone onto the foot of the bed. Julia sits up and leans over the phone.

“Player?”

It must be early evening where Player is, but it’s always difficult to discern anything with how dark his room is. He must have blackout curtains or something.

“I’ve got Carmen’s plane ticket sorted out, and I was gonna get you on a plane to Oxford, Julia, but I’m not sure I should do that anymore.”

Carmen slips on her shoes and ties the laces. “Put us on the same plane.”

“What?” Player asks.

“You were right about VILE and ACME. Jules isn’t safe as a civilian anymore, so she’s coming with me.” Finished, Carmen stands up and regards Julia, who has her hands over her eyes again.

“Jules?”

“Jay?” Player asks, slightly muffled from the hospital blanket.

“I placed my students’ papers on the coffee table. They were just there in bundles, because I meant to grade them. And there were plant clippings on the windowsill…I was growing them in jam jars.” Julia’s hand moves to cover her mouth, and she stares into the distance. “Gone.”

Player looks down at his keyboard. Carmen’s heart sinks in her chest. She did this. Julia lost everything because of her. Because she asked for her help, and this is how she’s rewarded.

“I’ve only lived in Oxford for half a year, but that flat was mine, and I….” But Julia stops and turns to the side table. She pulls open the drawer and there, nestled in the folds of her suit jacket, is her pendant. It glitters in the low light, and she lifts it out, the chain draping between her fingers.

“I was wrong,” Julia whispers. She slips her glasses back on and she stares very hard at the pendant.

“Jules?”

“Everything I need is right here. Everything else is replaceable.”

Player’s jaw drops, and he and Carmen share a look. “Just like that?”

“Sometimes it really is that simple. Don’t mistake me; it will be awful to replace everything when the time comes, but the fact is that they can be replaced. And I have insurance. My class will be fine. My students will be fine.” Julia unclasps the chain and tries—and fails—to put it on. She looks up at Carmen. “Do you mind?”

Carmen takes the ends of the chain and carefully clips it around Julia’s neck. Her fingertips graze her nape as she pulls away, and Julia catches her wrist.

“I won’t be put in a safe house. If I’m coming, I’ll be useful,” Julia whispers.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Carmen says. Julia smiles up at her.

“Plane’ll be ready in an hour,” Player says. The call ends, and Carmen slips the phone into her pocket.

“Then we shouldn’t waste time.” Carmen unhooks Julia from the IV and helps her shrug on her jacket. Julia slips her shoes on, and after picking up the duffle and the meds, the both of them vanish into the night.

Show it some love on Ao3!

#caruliaweek #carmen sandiego #julia argent #carulia #julethief #carjules #carmen x julia #my writing #fanfiction

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rpf-bat · 4 years

Text

Have You Heard The News That You’re Dead?

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Drama, Horror

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 23. Prompt: “Afterlife”.

You’re a cancer patient. You’ve travelled to Hawaii, for an operation, that you hope will save your life. But, while you’re in the hospital, your nurse tells you the story of the Night Marchers. Legend has it, that anyone who sees their parade, will die. When you begin hearing phantom marching-band sounds at night, you start to wonder if the legend could be true.

It had been a year now, since you were first diagnosed with stage three leukemia. Chemotherapy alone had not slowed the disease down. So, you had travelled to a hospital in Honolulu, for a transplant procedure, that you hoped would save your life. You’d been receiving radiation conditioning for a week now, to prepare your body, to receive the donor’s stem cells.

Today, your favorite nurse was on duty. Her name was Leilani.

“Aloha, Miss Y/N,” Leilani smiled, as she entered the hospital room, to bring you your daily dose of busulfan. “How are you feeling today?”

“Tired,” you said sleepily. “The drums kept me awake last night.”

“Drums?” Leilani repeated curiously.

“Yeah, I could hear music, outside my window, all night,” you explained. “Was there a concert, or a luau, going on in town, or something?”

“Maybe the sound that you heard was the Night Marchers,” Leilani said mysteriously.

“What are the Night Marchers?” you asked, eyes wide.

“Oh, it’s an old Kanaka Maoli legend,” Leilani chuckled. “There were these warriors, who served the chief, in ancient times. They say that after sunset, they rise from their graves, and march through the streets, towards the site of the battle they once fought.”

“Ghost warriors?” you blinked. “Now, that would be interesting to see.”

“Oh, no, Miss Y/N,” Leilani shook her head. “You do not want to see them. Legend says, that anyone who watches the Night Marchers, parading through town, will die.”

“I...I would die?” you gulped. Just for looking at a ghost?

“That’s how the story goes, anyway,” Leilani shrugged. “They say the only way to survive an encounter with the Marchers, is to lay down on the ground, and avert your eyes. But, it’s only a folktale, so don’t worry about it. Give me your hand, and take this pill, okay?”

“....Okay,” you frowned. Something about this folktale, made you very nervous.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

That night, you tried your best to fall asleep. You knew you needed your rest, but the hospital bed was so uncomfortable. What was worse, your illness had left you in severe pain. Leilani had gone home for the night, and you didn’t feel like calling the other nurse, for a dose of painkillers. You tossed and turned, trying to just be still.

Then, you heard the sound again, in the distance. A drumbeat, outside your window.

Could it really be a parade of ghosts? you wondered, staring up at the ceiling. No way - it’s probably just some street performer.

The bed creaked, as you turned away from the window. The drums grew louder, and, if you were not mistaken, you could hear trumpets joining them. Seriously - what the hell was that?

Your curiosity overwhelmed you, and you gingerly stood up from the bed. You padded over to the window, and peered through the blinds. You gasped at what you saw.

It really was a parade. But, these were no grass-skirted warriors. They looked like a high school marching band. From the second story window, you could just barely make out their black and silver jackets. The leader, in front, had short-cropped white hair. You were too high up, to see his facial features. Who the hell was he?

You watched, fascinated, as the band marched past a stop sign. Your blood froze, as the parade leader phased, intangibly, right through the sign post.

“A...a ghost?!” you gasped. Were these really the Night Marchers, after all?

A wave of dizziness suddenly hit you, and you felt faint. Your vision faded to black.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You woke up the next morning, in your hospital bed. Leilani was standing at your bedside, adjusting your IV bag.

“Leilani!” you gasped. “I saw them last night!”

“Saw who?” Leilani frowned.

“The Night Marchers!” you shuddered. “They’re real!”

“You must have had a bad dream, Miss Y/N,” Leilani shook her head. “I’m sorry that my stories frightened you.”

“B-but…,” you protested.

“Ssh,” Leilani interrupted. “You have bigger things to concern yourself with, right, Miss Y/N? Your transplant surgery is today.”

“That’s right,” you realized. Today, you would finally be infused with the bone marrow, that would hopefully send your cancer into remission. You were lucky that a donor had been found for you. You knew that many people succumbed to the disease, without ever making it to the top of the waitlist.

“The doctors here at Hawaii Cancer Care are very skilled, Miss Y/N,” Leilani assured you. “I’ve watched their surgeries save many lives.”

“You think that the surgery will be successful?” you gulped. The truth was, that you were still nervous.

“I’m sure of it,” Leilani said positively. “You have nothing to worry about.”

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

That night, after the surgery, you once again found yourself struggling to sleep. Your time in the hospital was not yet at its end. The doctors needed to observe you, a little longer, to make sure the procedure had done what they hoped. And your body, of course, still ached.

Suddenly, you heard a noise. This time, it was not coming from outside your window. The music sounded like it was emanating from the hallway, outside your door. But, the military-ish drumbeat was unmistakable. It was the ghostly marching band again.

You stood up, leaning on your IV pole for support. You felt unsteady on your feet. You knew it was unwise, to be moving around, so soon after your procedure. But, you couldn’t shake the compulsion to look.

You shuffled over to the edge of the room, and hesitantly opened the door. You poked your head out, and that was when you saw them.

A whole parade of specters was marching through the hospital corridor! There were phantoms in masks, at the back. But, the five men at the front, caught your attention. Their faces were uncovered, and they were playing instruments, as they stepped forward in time.

The one in front, with the pale, white hair, clearly seemed to be the leader. He raised his baton in the air. The phantoms followed him.

Was this real? you wondered, shaking. Or, were you dreaming?

Your IV pole rolled away from you, as you accidentally released it from your grip. The wheels made a skittering sound, on the linoleum floor.

The marching band leader’s head snapped up, and he turned around, seeking the direction of the sound.

You dropped to the floor, remembering Leilani’s warning: “They say the only way to survive an encounter with the Marchers, is to lay down on the ground, and avert your eyes.”

You trembled with fear, as you covered your eyes with your hands.

Don’t see me, you pleaded, heart pounding, as you lay as still as possible in the doorway. Don’t see me…..please don’t see me…..

“Miss Y/N!” gasped a familiar voice. “What are you doing out of bed?”

You opened your eyes. The parade of ghosts was gone. There was only Leilani, looking down at you with a concerned expression.

Am I going crazy? you wondered, eyes wide. Did I hallucinate that whole thing?

This didn’t seem possible. The blonde man’s piercing gaze had felt all too real.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You opened your eyes, hours later, and saw someone standing at the foot of your hospital bed. It wasn’t Leilani. It wasn’t any of your nurses. It was the blonde man, who had appeared to you in the night.

You screamed.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” the man whispered.

“H-how do you know my name?” you gasped. “Who are you?!”

“I’m Gerard,” the man introduced himself.

“I mean, what are you?” you demanded. “Are you a Night Marcher?”

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “I am the captain of the Black Parade.”

“What do you want with me?!” you asked, shaking.

“We’ve come to guide you to the afterlife,” Gerard explained.

“What?” your eyes widened. “You’re saying….I’m dying?”

“Yes,” Gerard nodded. “I’m afraid that you’re fated to die of a stroke tonight.”

“There’s no way that I’m going to have a stroke!” you denied.

“I’m afraid that you’re already having one right now, in your sleep,” Gerard revealed.

“No!” you cried. “If this is a dream, then, I have to wake up right now!”

“You won’t,” Gerard said calmly. “It is your time.”

“But...that doesn’t make any sense!” you argued. “I just had a bone marrow transplant! It’s supposed to cure my cancer!”

“You’ve developed what’s called graft versus host disease,” Gerard explained. “The donor’s cells see your body’s tissues as something foreign. They’re attacking them.”

“So…..you’re some sort of Grim Reaper?” you realized. “Where’s your scythe? Aren’t you supposed to look like a skeleton?”

“I took this form, in hopes that I would not frighten you, Y/N,” Gerard explained. “Do you not find it comely?”

The truth was, you found the phantom’s appearance, extremely handsome. You could see his strong-looking arms beneath his black jacket. Above the jacket’s high collar, he had a beautiful, almost angelic-looking face.

But, he’s an angel of death, you reminded yourself grimly. You wanted to cry.

“I...I can’t die yet,” you stammered, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m still so young. There’s so many things I haven’t done yet. I’ve never even fallen in love.”

“A surprise, and a tragedy,” Gerard said softly, gently stroking your cheek with this thumb, and wiping away your tears. “For such a beautiful woman.”

“You...you think I’m beautiful?” you sniffled.

“I do,” Gerard confessed. “I’m sorry, that the powers that be, have given you such a short time on this earth. It is not for me to decide. My job is simply to walk with you, to your destination.”

“You mean, the afterlife,” you guessed.

“Yes.”

“What’s going to happen?” you wondered, feeling scared. “Are you just going to drop me off in some limbo, a-and leave me there?”

“No,” Gerard promised, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. “Y/N, I will stay by your side, as long as you need me.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” you sobbed. You found yourself clinging to the specter, holding onto him tightly and sobbing into his chest.

He stroked your hair gently. “Sssh,” he consoled you. “It’s alright. You’re not alone. My marching band is waiting for you, just outside this room. We’ll all walk with you, to the Other Side. You will have as many friends there, as you wish.”

“You want to be my friend?” you asked, staring up at him, with wide eyes.

“I want a great many things from you, Y/N,” Gerard confessed. Suddenly, he grabbed the collar of your hospital gown, and pulled you into a kiss. His lips were warm, and soft, like a living person’s. There was no coldness of the grave, in his touch.

You kissed him back, soothed that, at least, someone was by your side, until the very end.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The heart monitors screamed, as Leilani ran into the room. The flatline on the screen, told her that her favorite patient was gone. Tears welled up in her eyes, as she stared down, at the woman’s terribly still form.

“A-Aloha, Miss Y/N,” Leilani sobbed. A word that could mean both hello, and goodbye.

There was one small comfort, as she pulled the sheet over Y/N’s head. Her final expression was a smile of bliss, as if she’d just received a pleasant surprise.

#gerard way imagine #gerard way x reader #gothtober #it's very fitting that I posted this on the 14th anniversary of Black Parade being released #if you enjoyed today's story - please consider donating to Be The Match #they're a very cool charity that helps leukemia patients find bone marrow donors

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

december 23 - ricky horror

title: one in seven

++++

its official where i live! marry christmas and happy holidays to yall. i hope you all have a great day and enjoy the last couple fics of the year! thanks again for reading and sharing, i love you all and wish you all the best in 2021.

prompt: Notes and gifts from a "secret Santa" take a strange turn

request from: n/a

tag list: @musicsexandpizza69 @svintsandghosts @alilpunkrock @cynic-spirit @theoneandonlykymberlee @joeynihil @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @thisplace-ishaunted @xyours-eternallyx

++++

one week. thats all that was left. five days till christmas day and i was all but turned off by the idea of gifts and celebration and parties and everything else that came with the holiday. i think my secret santa knew that though, whoever it was. dont get me wrong, i didnt mind being on the road for christmas, i didnt like the day, and i didnt have family to spend time with so it didnt really matter. but little did i know at the beginning of this that everyday i would wake up to something weirder in my stocking. and not even in a bad way, cause the two things id received already were super awesome.

and yes, it was the guys idea to put stockings up and do secret santa. that way we each got something small the seven days before christmas and the day of we would ultimately find out who our gift giver was over dinner as they gave us one final larger present. and dont get me wrong, i was an excellent gift giver, already two days in and vinny had loved the two things i had secretly slipped into his stocking but i was getting more impatient. i wanted to know who was getting me things only a few people knew i wanted. and ultimately i wanted vinny to know who was giving him his gifts.

when i got up today i wasnt exactly sure what i was going to be pulling out of the stocking hanging outside my bunk. the first day i had gotten a skeleton hand mug, the second day i had gotten a bag of death wish coffee, and i really just wanted to know if the theme would continue. maybe this person was trying to tell me something. i laid in my bunk as my alarm went off, silencing it almost immediately since i was awake already, just staring at the ceiling. i tossed the blanket off and slid out of my bunk slowly, looking up at chris as he leaned back into the opposing one, sipping out of his Starbucks cup from yesterday.

"morning."

i said and he held his cup to me in cheers.

"morning."

he said groggily.

"you check your stocking yet?"

i asked and he nodded.

"yep, todays was a voodoo donut and a starbucks giftcard."

he said with a smile and i laughed.

"guess you get it twice a year now huh."

i said and he nodded contently,

"whats in yours?"

he asked and i turned around, my eyes going wide at how thick it looked. i drew my brows and reached my arm into it. i felt something soft graze my hand before pulling it out.

"awe, its so cute."

i said as i pulled the plush bat out, taking the black silk eye mask off of it and petting its head. i showed it to chris.

"either my secret Santa thinks i sleep too much or not enough."

i said with a laugh, putting the eye mask into my bag next to the coffee and mug. chris laughed a little bit as ricky slid his curtain over from behind him.

"what you guys talking about?"

he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"y/n's concerned with the gifts from her secret santa."

chris answered and rick raised a brow.

"how come?"

he asked and i shrugged, hugging the bat to my chest.

"ive gotten two things of coffee so far and two things to sleep with. im getting mixed signals to say the least."

i said with a laugh and he nodded, jumping down from his bunk with a thud.

"maybe they think you needed something to help you keep up the good work, and something to help you relax. you do work harder than all of us combined."

he mentioned, making me smile.

"thanks rick, i guess ill just have to wait another few days and ask when i find out who it is."

i said and he nodded.

"guess so."

---

"okay, this is getting more and more confusing."

i said, unwrapping the fuzzy blanket, holding it out to look at what was on it. the whole thing was solid black with alchemy symbols, pentagrams, crystal balls, and the likeness on it in bright pastel pinks and purples. it was really cute and matched the bat perfectly. all this stuff just had me wondering what i could be getting at dinner. i knew this blanket wasnt cheap, it had a black craft tag on it after all.

"whats confusing?"

vinny asked, holding the new bulls jersey in his hand.

"the theme of these is a little skewed to say the least."

i said and he shrugged.

"that looks comfy."

he said, running his hand over the side of it and i nodded.

"what else have you gotten?"

he asked and i sighed.

"coffee, a mug, a plush bat, a sleep mask, pastel bath bombs, a coffee and honey face scrub mask, fuzzy black and pink socks, and now this blanket. its like a care package."

i said and he shrugged.

"guess youll just have to find out at dinner, which we should probably get ready for."

---

as we all sat around the table i watched intently as we went down the line, each person giving their last gifts. justin had chris, chris had ryan, ryan had aj, aj had justin, i had vin, vin had rick, and finally rick had me. as he got up he reached for a large box and my eyes went wide.

"okay y/n i know all week youve been trying to figure out what the hell this all could be leading up to but i asked all of the guys if we could pitch in on something so its not just from me."

i drew my brows.

"we all know you work ten times harder than the rest of us so we all wanted to do something special for you."

he said, setting the box down in front of me on the table.

"you guys didnt have to do that. you guys put so much into the band, im nothing special."

i said and he sent me a disapproving look.

"but you are, without you none of this would work. so as a thank you from all of us..."

he said, pointing to the box and i moved slowly to open it, all of them watching me intently. i ripped the paper off first, then going in to rip the tape off it and popping the sides open one at a time. when i pulled the tissue paper out of the way i drew my brows. in it was a large wooden box.

"okay?"

i asked, pulling it out and setting it on the table in place of the carboard box.

"open it."

chris said from across the table and i pushed the gold tab up, lifting the lid. as soon as i saw what was in it my mouth dropped. i wanted to inspect it more but my vision was going blurry at the tears behind my eyes.

"you guys."

i said, closing it and standing up to give rick a hug.

"so i take it you like it?"

he asked and i nodded against him, pulling away and wiping the tears off my face.

"its beautiful."

i said, opening the box back up and looking over the kit of art supplies. there was everything i could ever ask for in here: a water color palette, gouache, oil pastels, soft pastels, colored pencils, drawing pencils, two sketch pads, brushes, the whole nine yards.

"we wanted to get you something that you enjoy and that relaxes you. this whole week ive been building up stuff that could make you comfortable during or after a long work day: comfy stuff to sleep with, coffee when youre running around making sure we're all in line, spa stuff to help you chill at home. they all helped with this idea but we thought it could be something to get you out of the real world when youve had enough. and now youll think of all of us when you use it."

he said with a wide smile and i couldn't help crying again.

"you guys take such good care of me."

i said through a sniffle as vin leaned over and hugged me, then Justin leaned in and did the same, pretty soon all of them were standing around me in big a group hug.

"we love you y/n, we wouldnt get anything done without you and we're so glad to call you a team member and most importantly a friend."

rick said, as they all stood back up and went back to their seats.

"thank you guys, for everything. and thank you especially for making this a special christmas, the most special christmas ive ever had."

he squeezed my shoulder gently.

"youre part of the family now y/n, and we wouldnt want it any other way."

#25 days of christmas requests #x reader #ricky horror #imagines #one shots #im so far up miws ass

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andreils-keys · 4 years

Text

kay so ive been taking prompts from my instagram and

why would you tell me not to kill one and if i do to bring him back please you’re taking all the joy out of writing >:(

anyways lets get into it <3 (tw: small mention of domestic abuse)

(disclaimer yes i am a kandreil shipper :))

andrew is cursed in the same way blue was sort of where if he tells someone that he loves them they’ll die (yes i changed it a bit)

but instead of doing the whole 'you're cursed zap magic' thing (bc i don't think it'd fit very well in the aftgverse) im gonna try something else

andrew had some pretty shitty foster homes when he was young

but the worst one was a small house by a family-owned ice cream shop

he remembers the ice cream shop very vividly. it was where he went when his foster mother was out working or drinking. it was where he went to feel safe.

he was pretty young, maybe 4 ? 5 ? impressionable. in that stage where santa claus and the boogie man were real, where hiding under a blanket protected you from nightmares. (he learned pretty quickly that hiding under the blanket did not protect you from anything.

he was bashed and battered with fists and words, words that cursed his very being and proclaimed that to love him was to die.

he was so young

he was only a child

and he did what children do best

he believed

there was a time when he doubted

another foster parent, a run down house made beautiful with love and mismatched furniture

the road to healing is rocky and dangerous, but easier to traverse when you have someone behind you

finally, he let himself love

he let his foster mother in, little by little, and he thought: maybe im not a curse

and he said: i love you

the day after, she died in a car crash

the car brutalized

her body brutalized

his heart brutalized

coincidence? he says out loud at the entrance of another foster home. because it needs to be said. because lies always become crystal clear when said out loud.

bc of this he's never directly expressed love for anyone and he tends to distance himself from people just to make sure there's 0 risk of him causing someone's death

but if he does care for someone he shows this through actions (no i love yous because that's what he believes caused his foster mothers death)

he's always had people he's cared about, people he's wanted to protect and keep safe

but ever since the car crash, hes never had anyone hes wanted to say i love you to

until

[enter kevin day]

the first person that consumed him was kevin, the boy that sought him out in high school with desperation in his eyes, raving about a sport that had made andrews days in juvie a little more bearable.

the man that always appeared on television with a cardboard smile stamped onto his face, always a step behind riko moriyama, always hiding in his shadow.

the man that inexplicably made yet another appearance in andrews life, this time with a shattered hand and a plea for help.

the man that pushed and pulled andrew just enough to get him through another day, another week.

and then neil, so different from kevin and yet so alike, as sudden as a gunshot, as tantalizing as death.

the boy that's as invested in riko and kevin as andrew is.

the boy that is impenetrable and distrusting, the boy that lets no one in.

at first andrew thinks he's safe. as long as neil doesn't let anyone in, that means andrew won't have to let him in. and kill him.

aha sike. turns out neil is the trusting-no-one-but-andrew-minyard-and-kevin-day type

the three of them form a twisted complicated pyramid; each side leaning against the other two. immovable. strong. inseparable, unless andrew deliberately pushes himself away when the feeling ballooning in his chest is too much.

(although he will always get pulled back in. the gravity of neil and kevin is too strong for andrew to stay away.)

he promises to protect them because that's what he does for the people he cares about.

but falling in love is a whole other ball game.

andrew is so afraid.

afraid to love them, afraid to let them in.

he knows he can't allow it; every time he thinks of how much he feels for them, he remembers the car, the shattered windows, the pieces of glass tipped with blood.

but andrew is only human.

even if he tells himself not to fall in love, the heart and body tend to ignore the mind.

he let’s himself be selfish

the hard press of kevin's lips against his, the gentle tug of neils fingers threaded through his hair, a hand clamped against neils neck and the other gripping kevin's arm.

that is all andrew allows

he doesn't mind if kevin and neil go gallivanting off somewhere on their own (s a f e l y; if those idiots get taken by the yakuza it would be extremely inconvenient for andrew)((andrew: dammit now i have to save them from the mafia nicky: you don't have t- andrew: no im gonna)), even if it prods unpleasantly at a sensitive point in his heart. if they're happy, hes happy.

(well, not quite happy. satisfied is the proper word. and he supposes that's the most he can ask for.)

he doesn't tell them about the nightmares. the dreams of fire and blood and twisted metal, of fists and a curse and a small, dark room. more often than not neil will wake to find andrew sliding out of his bunk and going to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream.

neil won't pry, but he'll wake kevin and they'll join andrew in the kitchen, standing on the other side of the counter from andrew with their shoulders pressed together, a reminder to each other and andrew that they are there for each other.

and then neil disappears. like a dream. like smoke.

andrew took his eyes off neil for one second, and neil vanished in the crowd of angry fans.

they search and search but neil is gone.

all they find is neils exy racket lying on the ground in pieces, broken from the stampede of fans.

andrew whispers, the words dredged from a desperate, vulnerable place inside him: i love you. neil, i love you. come back to me. come back to kevin. come back to us.

the next day, the fbi tells them that they found neils gym bag. it was covered with tire tracks and spattered with blood.

they couldn’t find neil.

and the pyramid falls.

the grief and guilt and heartbreak andrew feels is unparalleled. never has he felt so broken. never has he felt so dirty. he did this. he did this.

kevin insists neil is still alive. lost and floating, but alive

but andrew knows better.

his nightmares get worse. sprinkled in with the mauled car and heavy fists is a shattered exy stick, a gym bag dripping blood, an unreachable figure with red hair and a slash of a smile.

andrew spirals.

he refuses to speak to anyone. even kevin. he'll stay with kevin and press his palm into the side of kevin's neck, his pulse grounding andrew and keeping him in the here and now, but he will not speak.

cabeswater brought gansey back right and i feel like the one closest to magic would be renee (thank you neils jortventures fairy magic huzzah) except she doesn't use magic.

so remember how she was affiliated with a gang when she was young

there was a member of the gang that continued to reach out to her, especially once they escaped from the gang a little after renee did

renee did respond to their messages, but she tried not to initiate conversation because they were part of her old life and she was living and loving her new one.

essentially she was nice enough not to cut them out completely.

unfortunately the kid got caught up in another gang that was closely associated with the butcher of baltimore

when nathan dies they text renee about how their gang is in pieces because the butcher is dead.

renee isnt there to receive the message right away (she and andrew were sparring, as they were keen to do now that neil was gone and andrew was out of sorts) and kevin is the one to catch the word butcher when the notification pops up

he scrambles for renees phone and sees: the butcher is dead.

he is so relieved because the butcher, the man kevin always had to fear and avoid, is dead

and then he starts to think

neil’s father was the butcher. does this have something to do with neil? was the butcher the one that took neil? if the butcher is dead, does that mean neil is still alive?

it’s a bit of a stretch, but kevin is willing to believe anything if it means that neil is alive

he tells andrew

he doesn't expect andrew to do anything but he still wants to tell him, just so that andrew will know, just so that kevin himself can taste the words.

kevin asks renee if they can reach out and she's like wtf y'all doing going through my phone but she understands how hard it hit them, andrew especially, and if it'll help them she'll go along

they meet up with the kid

renee seems nice enough, but andrew can tell how strained she is by the way she keeps cracking her knuckles one by one

they get the info from the kid about a red haired blue eyed cut up burned kid

kevin is distraught about the cut up burned part

andrew is close to vomiting from a whirlwind of relief (they never said he was dead) and denial and fear for neil

he refuses to get his hopes up; he said the cursed words. he saw the blood on neils’s gym bag. he saw the shattered exy stick. (or was that a dream? his nightmares and reality are so tightly interwoven he can hardly tell what's real)

the kid warns kevin and andrew that the last time they saw neil was in the basement and that the probablity of him still being there is relatively low

kevin makes a sort of impatient gesture at the kid and they bring kevin and andrew to the house (renee stays behind; she made a lame excuse about needing to make a phone call but she just wanted to give them space, either to reunite with neil or grieve their loss a second time)

from the outside, it’s a nice looking house and it doesn’t look threatening in the least, but andrew knows how deceiving appearances can be

once they go inside everything is in shambles. the couch overturned, the tv screen cracked in multiple places, ceiling plaster and pieces of porcelain all over the counters and dining table

the kid points them to the basement

kevin is the first to go down

andrew is surprised mainly because kevin is usually always so careful

andrew follows more warily, afraid to find nothing, afraid to find neil; afraid to have his heart broken all over again, afraid of the prospect that he has wasted his entire life living a lie.

he reaches the basement to find kevin wrapped around a small beat up, bruised, burnt, and shivering lump.

neil is hurt and bloody, and it drives a stake through andrew’s heart, but the fact that neil is breathing and alive alive alive causes a different kind of pain, the unique pain of relief and sorrow and love swirled together.

kevin is stroking neils hair and very obviously trying not to have a panic attack and andrew goes to them

sits down

both kevin and neil look up at him, and andrew watches as some of the fear and pain in their eyes fades.

he can feel the words bubbling up and he wants to say them, to scream them, but they are stuck inside his throat, twisted around his tongue.

it is a language andrew has taught himself to unlearn.

the road to healing is rocky and dangerous, but easier to traverse when you have someone behind you

it’s even easier when you have two people behind you, people who have seen what you have seen, people who make an effort to understand you.

andrew eventually does say it.

the words, no longer cursed, are still clumsy and fall in a messy jumble at his feet

but there they are, light as a cloud, heavy as a storm:

i love you

#aftg #all for the game #aftg hc #aftg headcanon #aftg headcanons #kandreil #kandreil hc #trc #bluesey #this wasnt supposed to be angst #and then it turned into kandreil angst #and honestly im not complaining

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ad1thi · 4 years

Note

Helloooo I absolutely love your blog and its nice to see another desi person on this site :D Can you give me some fic recs I'm pretty new to the fandom so absolutely anything with a shit ton of fluff would be wonderful!!!

ty that’s so sweet of you!! and absolutely!! its always fun to have new people in the fandom!! what ive done is just rec’d a couple of the fics ive read recently, but a lot of them are by authors who i really love and respect so you could just pick one at random and read all their fic and be off to a great start!!

The icing on the cake: @bladeofthenebula27

Steve’s a bit low on cash this month, so he figures making a bit extra by jumping out of a cake couldn’t hurt.

If only someone had told the birthday boy that.

Autumnal Allergies: @tinytonysnark (part of a series)

For the Fall Starters: "Sorry, allergies" and "You sound sick. Are you sick?"

The good place (is next to you): @starklysteve

“I mean,” Tony tries his best shot at breaking the tension, “if you’re stuck with the wrong guy, at least I’m sexier than your real deal?”

Tony died and got sent to some sort of heaven, with Captain America as his soulmate. Except, they got the wrong Anthony Stark, and to stay in the Good Place, Tony must convince Steve to teach him how to be good.

-x-

(watching The Good Place is not necessary to understand this AU, but will help)

Wind Beneath My Wings: @iam93percentstardust

Sam first meets Tony Stark in 2005 when he joins the EXO-7 Falcon program.

wildflowers: @tinytonysnark

“So,” Steve begins, clapping his hands together, “the city of SHIELD is in debt. The big ups have sent for financial advisors, all the way from DC! They’re gonna take a look at the city’s spending and make some cuts.”

He squints at the camera against the morning sun shining through the courtyard, “I’m not that worried. Everyone here in the parks department is an important member of the team and absolutely needed.”

The camera swings towards the office where from the large glass window, Natasha can be seen picking up the ringing phone before immediately slamming it back down onto the receiver.

[A Parks and Rec AU]

Brewed Awakening: @iam93percentstardust (just a note that this is an a/b/o fic in case that makes you squicky)

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

Once Upon a Wintertime: @iam93percentstardust (just a note that this is an a/b/o fic in case that makes you squicky) (this is also my fav fic by this author)

Look, Bucky knows that he’s fulfilling every cliché in the book right now. He knows that, as a bodyguard, he’s not supposed to fall in love with his client. But Tony’s good and sweet and so, so lonely and how could Bucky not? He thinks he’s got a shot after Tony breaks up with his boyfriend but on a trip across the country, he finds out that Tony needs a bondmate or the board will steal SI—and Ty’s already said yes

It’s Just One Thing: @riotfalling

Bucky has a crush on the cute neighbour. Tony has locked himself out of the building in the middle of a rainstorm. Bucky plays the hero, Tony pays for dinner, and aggressive amounts of fluff ensue.

i’ll be by your side (when you cry, cry, cry): @kapteniron

The first thing he notices when he wakes is there’s a ring on Tony’s ring finger.

There’s a fucking ring on Tony’s ring finger.

Oh, Steve thinks numbly. I missed my chance. Again.

With that thought in mind, he bursts into tears.

(In which Steve goes through a rollercoaster of emotions and thoughts, Tony tries to comfort, and Sam finds the whole thing both frustrating and hilarious.)

i guess its maybe possible that i might be playing this wrong: @thejgatsbykid

Steve would've considered himself lucky just to get someone he could tolerate as an assigned roommate his freshman year of college, so he figures it's a miracle that he and Tony became best friends almost from the first. When he and Tony get stuck together for seven minutes in heaven at a party, Steve realizes that he wants more from Tony than just friendship, and it only goes downhill from there.

artwork and email: @omg-just-peachy (peaches is your one stop shop for stevetony fluff just btw, she invented the trope)

Tony makes a donation to Art Reach, a non-profit, never expecting to get such a kind thank you note in response. He certainly never thought he'd find himself excited to look in his inbox every day, eager for a new message from the foundation's director, Steve Rogers, but here he is. Or, Tony falls for smol Steve over a bunch of emails and everyone knows it but him.

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

happy reading and welcome to the fandom!! (just a word of advice - please remember to leave kudos and comments on all fic!! as content creators we really appreciate it!!)

#adi's rec list #stevetony #buckytony #samtony #fluff #anon ask #adi answers asks #me?? using this opportunity to convince you a fandom newbie to love all my friends?? more likely than you think #almost everybody on this list is someone im mutuals with #and they're all so talented!!#you should check out their fics!!#all of them!!

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sapphicambitions · 4 years

Text

hypothetically speaking if YOU had started seeing a girl at the end of July and then at about the end of August you asked her where she stood on y’all’s relationship and she said she wasn’t emotionally available or ready for a relationship but she was working on it and wanted to keep seeing you to see where it was gonna go and so you said yes because you liked her and you were like “I don’t mind waiting! we can work through this together!” and then as you moved forward you were the one who initiated every single kiss and sent every single first text and set up every single date and you were holding back on like Properly Flirting with her because every time you flirted she got a embarrassed and never flirted back with you and actually at no point has she said anything like “you look really good today” or “I like you” or anything even remotely flirty even when you were clearly fishing for compliments bc everyone wants to feel validated and in fact she told you that she doesnt feel butterflies for you and you can see that shes kept an emotional wall up around you because she hasn’t wanted to friend you on any social medias and you’d complain about this to your best friends and they’d be like “this doesnt sound mutually beneficial or emotionally healthy that you’re doing all the emotional labor” and you’d insist back “no no like she’s working on it and we’re building something together so that we can one day be in a relationship” and they just went along with it because this is the first time you’ve been happy in a relationship in like a year and then one week you worked a weird job with long hours and y’all never really talked and she had some Shit Go Down in her life that is actually super valid and understandable but she became super reserved and you were like “don’t worry im here for you!” even though you also had a shitty week and she wasn’t there for you and then instead of talking all day every day you’d hear from her like a few times a day and you were like “when can i see you again? I’ve missed you” and she said “haha it has been a while” and you were like uhhh didn’t you miss me too but you made plans to hang out and while you were with her you asked how she wanted to move forward with communication when she’s Going Through It and she essentially said “just dont double text me” and then as she was driving you home she said “yeah I’ve ghosted almost everyone ive ever dated because i dont like having emotional conversations” and you were like uhhh and then you texted her the next day about something random and she didn’t respond for like ten hours and you reached out to your friends and were like dude i think ive just been ghosted but then she texted back “sorry i was busy” and then immediately after with no prompt “ngl its hard for me to think about where our relationship could go when i dont know if you’ll be here in a month or so but dont let that stress you out more” and you were like “here as in dc or here as in with you” and she said “here as in dc” and you were like “well im operating as if i will still be here and im doing everything in my power to still be here and find a job” and she said “i know it just doesnt really feel like that? and this has all just been harder for me than i thought it would be but thanks for letting me get it off my chest” and you didnt actually respond because you were like hang on i have been doing all of the emotional labor for the last three months and putting my own emotional needs aside to give you the space that you needed and to respect your boundaries of not wanting to be too emotional and busting my ass to find a job so that i can stay here and i have explicitly told you that i feel like an unemployed loser who’s life fell apart six months ago and ive been trying desperately to get back on my feet and now you’re using that as an excuse as to why you’re having trouble thinking about the future of our relationship and like baby sure my life might fall apart again in two months but will you be emotionally available in two months?????? so you dont respond and you didn’t text her in the morning and she hasn’t text you all day either and youre still pretty pissed and half of your friends are like “end it now” and half of them are like “talk to her and see if you can work it out” and part of you doesnt want to talk to her about it because you’re so fucking tired of having to beg people to love you and you just wish that for once in your life you could receive love instead of constantly giving it and you just want a partner who dotes on you and loves you and thinks youre hot and will do all of those things without having to ask “can you please act like you like me” but on the other hand you knew what you were signing up for with this and relationships do take work and you do like her so maybe you should just try to talk it out with her because maybe she didnt realize that all of these things were bugging you so talk to her and see what happens like HYPOTHETICALLY if you were in that HYPOTHETICAL situation....

what would you do?

#lesbianlaynie #do NOT reblog #jams #yes i am genuniely looking for answers #help me out here fam #whats your take on it #for once i am actually asking for advice on my personal life

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stronglyobsessed · 4 years

Note

If you’re still taking prompts, I’d love Merwin with Merlin realizing how much he loves to hear Eggsy talk when put in a situation where he can’t hear him (be it Eggsy in the hospital, on a secret mission with no audio, or whatever you want) and deciding that he’ll do whatever he can to make sure that not another day goes by without Eggsy’s voice in his life :)

If I’m ever not interested, or willing, to write angsty hurt/comfort Merwin, assume I’ve been replaced by a poorly designed clone ;).

Breathe...

There were many times Merlin assumed he’d never hear the sweet sound. A soft, gentle whisper where the warmth of his lover’s breath brushed against his ear, or the mirth filled chuckle through mission audio. How quickly Merlin knew it could be torn away. Assignments where Eggsy’s life was put at greater risk than the average man. There was always that uncertainty, that perhaps Merlin’s job wasn’t enough to bring the young agent home. To bring his husband home.

A relationship with a Kingsman agent brought so many risks. Some more deadly than others. So the last thing he’d expect to hear, were the voices of sorowful cops.

“...an accident.”

“...rushed into the ER.”

Merlin felt all the air leave his lungs. His chest ached with need for oxygen that his body just stopped providing. How could he be concerned with something as vital, so important to his survival, when he was being told his husband fought for his own life.

“...cab ran a red light. T-boned him before he could see it coming.”

It was painted for him. An accident Merlin hadn’t witnessed with his own eyes, but be damned if he wasn’t going to pull up surveillance around the city. Though revenge was the least of his worries, especially when his presence was needed at hospital. Merlin was fortunate to be dressed for the day, though he doubted clothing would be of a concern, and followed without question. He left behind a curious JB, and made sure to notify Harry on his ride. Thankful the cops offered him a lift; Merlin was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to drive himself.

Worry. Merlin lived in a constant state of worry. He had to learn to separate it from the job, needing to be the best he could be, guiding all agents; his own husband included. Worry was well ingrained by now. And worried he did, but he never once accounted for worry that would be brought by a civilian accident. Not when Eggsy faced the worlds villains on a regular occurrence.

Suddenly that bright, sunny laugh that resonated through their home, when JB did something that tickled Eggsy, or Michelle sent a video of Daisy walking on her hands, it all vanished. It was as if, in their five years of marriage, he worried for the first time he’d never hear it again. Or how Eggsy crooned their wedding song when missions went poorly, and Merlin was left feeling failure and regret. Soft melodies that caused him to yearn for a child, hoping one day Eggsy would sing tender lullabies to their children.

These were things Merlin worried, mourned the loss of, before he had a chance to find out how bad Eggsy was. Logistics didn’t concern him, not as he barreled through hospital doors, demanding information before he gave his name. His heart pounded, doing leaps and bounds against his chest, threatening to bust through his chest cavity and rush to find Eggsy. The man who was his world, every reason for living, his physical, breathing, living heart. Who at this very moment lay on a surgical table as London’s finest surgeons removed a lung—damaged beyond repair, Merlin was told—and repaired his shattered femur. The question of his ability to walk without assistive devices were on the table, but none of this was what troubled his mind. If Eggsy made it out of this alive was of the utmost importance.

It felt like years, decades, before he was given more information.

“...he made it out.”

“...if he wakes...”

IF he wakes. Merlin felt his heart stop, breathing halted at the notion Eggsy could possibly leave this Earth.

“...a long road ahead of him. He has age on his side.” They ran down the list. Four broken ribs, removed lung, repaired femur, broken humerus and wrist. All on the right side. Multiple contusions, bruises and swelling accompanied the ever growing list.

Merlin thanked them, and counted the seconds until he was permitted to see him. It was hours, Merlin was sure, when a nurse called his name. He felt numb. Unaccustomed to being the one to receive the information, and not the informer.

“We have him under a medically induced coma, to help him recover from the trauma.” The nice, short middle-aged nurse said. Bethany, he read her name tag, guided him through double doors that proclaimed this area the ICU. “He can hear you,” she promised with a gentle smile.

The expression was thought to bring him comfort, but he felt little right now.

From the right side Eggsy was near unrecognizable. The swelling was so sever it nearly took up his whole face. Merlin would have been afraid to touch him, but took some comfort that he could caress his left arm, avoiding wires and IV’s as he did. He didn’t speak for a long moment, afraid if he tried, he’d break down and if Eggsy could hear him, his ears would be filled with the sorrow of his husband. That’s not what Eggsy needed to hear now, not when his life hung in the balance.

It was as if Merlin’s voice was taken, too. Because he barely said a word since he’d been brought here. Only enough to insist on answers when Doctor’s gave updates. He waited, with baited breath, when they eased the sedatives three days later. Pleased with Eggsy’s recent MRI results, the swelling on his brain had gone down. They were uncertain if there would be any lasting damage from traumatic brain injury, unable to determine that based on his scans.

The first signs were slight, hand twitching, involuntary movements that confirmed Eggsy was in the process of waking. It wasn’t like you saw in movies, where the injured woken and recognized their surroundings, or even the person who sat beside them. The process was far slower, painful as it were to watch, and took a solid week before Eggsy opened his eyes.

They were unfocused and blearily scanning his surroundings. Merlin would have jumped the first moment Eggsy did this, but he knew not to startle him. He very carefully reached over Eggsy to press the call-light, earning attention to himself even as he tried to avoid it.

Glossy blue-green eyes widened for a moment, until recognition washed over his features, and his eyes softened.

Before he could speak a word, hoping to coax a small response out of Eggsy in desperation to hear his voice again, nurses and his surgeons arrived. Merlin was ushered out in order for an examination to be done, and by the time he was allowed back in, Eggsy was asleep again.

They told him he’d wake sporadically. Eggsy may or may not address him, but this was the process. Again, not flowery and romanticized like films. It was a long, grueling thing. Torture to the one who had to watch it, but watch he would.

And he did wake, on and off, sometimes he stared at Merlin, others it was just quick little spirts that didn’t even last thirty seconds. A day went by, hours passed where Merlin hadn’t seen Eggsy’s gorgeous eyes. His longing grew. When would he wake WAKE and just say his name? The answer was not an easy one to bear. Time, he was cautioned.

On the second day, when Merlin was sure he’d slip back into a coma and never speak to him again, Merlin began to sing their wedding song.

The Way You Look Tonight, never sounded as smooth off his tongue. His voice was too deep and certain notes were beyond his abilities to match Frank Sinatra. Though that never seemed to be a problem for Eggsy.

Merlin was on his second attempt at the song, feeling sure he butchered something that repressented the best day of his life, when someone softly said:

“I sing it better.” The voice was rough and scratchy, a hushed whisper that could barely be heard. “Hamish.” It was his name spoken by this foreign, yet familiar, voice that earned his attention. Eggsy’s eyes locked with his, realization filled the pair that Merlin loved so much.

All he could do was chuckle as tears filled his own, spilling down his cheeks until they soaked his face, and nodded. “Aye. Ye do.” He wouldn’t voice how relieved he was to hear Eggsy speak, not when his careful kiss said it all. “I love ye,” Merlin whispered in a rush, worrying Eggsy wouldn’t be up long enough to hear that.

Dry, chapped lips drew up in a crooked smile as Eggsy’s left hand fumbled to hold his. “I love you, too.”

Eggsy didn’t say much more past that, not for another day, but it was everything Merlin needed to hear to keep hope.

His heart would pull through.

#kingsman #eggsy unwin #merlin #merwin #hurt/comfort #agnst #major character injury #car accident #hospitals #merlin POV #asks #requests #my fic #this turned out longer than i thought #oops #sorryallonsy

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stoicbreviary · 3 years

Text

"The Last Words of Cleanthes"

Richard Henry Horne (1802-1884) 'Here do I take my seat, Great Element! And for the last time listen to thy voice, Which now methinks hath a more lulling tone, E'en as of sympathy: but that's a dream. 'Many great spirits dwell in other worlds, And some are here, who live, like me, alone, But with a recognized influence of good, Rewarded by self-consciousness of power, Which is the Stoic's well-sufficing law; It is his law unto himself, comprising All kinds of labour; water, food, and space Of ground sufficient where to rest the head, Being his right in common with the herds, And all dumb fellow-creatures of the earth. 'Zeno is gone; and I have taught his School, With pride I yet may pardon in myself, Knowing how much of his great soul, outpoured For all throughout my being was transfused. Zeno hath passed to higher learning now, And thence to higher teachings will attain, Proportion'd to his spirit towering still; While I have linger'd here, and day and night Striven to be worthy of his great bequest.' The sage was seated on a lone sea-coast, And while the sun slow sank 'midst solemn smiles, As of paternal sadness, touch'd with hope, The sea came flowing up, still murmuring Its ever-fresh yet ancient harmonies. Near him there stands a Thracian youth, whose head And limbs elastic had enchain'd the gaze, But for the anxious chisellings o'er his face, As he beholds a man of massive brow, O'ersnow'd by four score years, who like a rock Placed on a rock, sits there, self-doom'd to die. 'Young man, thou pray'st me to recount my life— New comer from the Thracian Chersonese, Not knowing of my labours, or my thoughts, Nor why I sit here with intent to end A long life, every day whereof hath wrought The utmost work my faculties could achieve; Here, where the bright waves hasten tow'rds my feet, Not like fierce rows of fangs, but gracious friends Who bring to me my flowing funeral rites, Murmuring their deep hymns to eternity. 'I was a rough-bred and unletter'd man, Born to great strength of sinew and of bone, With that endurance which outlives defeat; And as a cestus-bearing athlete fought, Gaining some batter'd victories, with the applause Of brutal natures, and of spirits refined, Needing reaction after mental toil. With heavy ox-thonged cestus, newly stained From smashing contest, craving rest and shade, The grove I pass'd where Zeno held his School. The vision of that grand head floats before me, As then it loom'd above the shoulders bare, And grape-like curls of many a lovely youth Whose soaring spirit stood with folded wings. 'The hush'd repose—the shadows,—and the rhythm Of Zeno's eloquent cadences—a flow Of harmony as of the confluence sweet When Simoïs and Xanthus murmur'd through Some temple in the groves of vanish'd Troy, Melted my nerves, and overcame my heart, Till a new life-spring gushed into my brain, Flooding my thoughts, and forcing o'er each sense A change, which all my bodily strength transformed. More than a child's within a giant's grasp, Or clay beneath the statuary's hand, Softly I laid me listening on the grass,— And year by year, ne'er absent, day by day, Save for deep study in my lone abode, As one of Zeno's flock I fed and thought. 'Now while the days roll'd o'er my bowed-down head, My corporal needs—how few—were well supplied By labours of the night, wherein my strength Served well my higher craving; and for hinds On gardens, farms, or cattle far a-field, Water I drew from wells, or when the springs Sparkled in frosty silver 'neath the moon. 'Thus through my mind were melted twenty years, And Zeno left us—on life's pilgrimage Tow'rds higher knowledge,—and his Chair devolved On me, though others to that lofty seat Held worthier claim. As Polygnotus' hand In paintings illustrated godlike forms, And acts of heroes, so did I but teach, With humbler, but not less devoted powers, What godlike minds had imaged. Let that pass From me, the medium of those truths sublime, To rest as crowns for their diviner brows. 'And yet, young man, I have not lived in vain In mine own person, since examples weighty Rank with best teachings. Now, brief words paint years:— The tide rolls inward, and thou must depart, And leave me here to close my mortal hour. Through a long life I have thoroughly wrought my will, From nature's hand refusing all rich fruits, As from my labours, or man's kindliness, Receiving but the means for innocent food, Thus following Crates' and great Zeno's course, As rigidly as link doth follow link, When seamen raise an anchor to the prow; Or as the shadow of the hero's spear Beneath its singing, flies to the same mark. To man's best knowledge, and highest good Myself have I devoted evermore, With no weak murmurings o'er the poverty Which was my choice. And if my chief return From man were scoffs, cold pity, or neglect, As I for social life were all unfit— No business had on earth—let man progress The better for my life; I, none the worse For his contempt, but more content and glad In that my labours have been more removed From personal profit. My pure 'vantage rests On its negation and its nullity, Which is the Stoic's true—his best reward, Save in the satisfaction of his soul. It may be that some balance here is lost, Since Nature bids each seek his proper good. Every devotion hath inspiring madness— Oft madness of the loftiest, purest scope; But 'tis poor earthliness large gains to crave, Thanks, and prompt recognition from the world Of service and self-sacrifice. Enough— Man knows his own acts, his own secret mind,— Evades, or all the mingled truths confronts. 'Leave me, young man; the tide is rising fast! Good youth, retire—'tis now my will to die. Studies and hardships on extreme age piling Weight upon weight, life's arches are borne down; And as nought useless can, or should exist, I have for days, all sustenance refused, Press'd to my hands, but thankfully laid down, And now sit here, beside my sand-scoop'd grave, Waiting majestic burial from the sea. 'Nor are tombs wanting. Lo, yon marble rocks!— The architecture of some hand Divine! Intaglios fretted by a thousand years— Inscriptions motto'd by the unseen Powers That guide earth's great mutations, while around me The symbols both of present and of past— Enormous sea-weeds, strombites, and whitening bones, Submarine flowers that lift their welcoming heads, And wail of starv'd birds echoing to the moon, Now slowly rising from her daily grave, Profusely furnish funeral honours due To those whose life-lamps burnt in caves, like mine. Young man! forbear thy touch!—thy tearful voice— Begone at once! behold the waves flow near, And soon will kiss these pale and paralyzed feet. The crescent points creep round with gushing gleams, And now they eddying meet, and deepening flow! 'Covering his face, with smother'd sobs he goes— Farewell!—nay, boy!—he weeps, but he is gone. Ever-young World! I have well loved thy youth, And thought for me thou hadst no heart at all; But 'twas not so. I ne'er had sought to gain That sympathy which yet, like unplucked fruit, Is ready for the worthy traveller's hand. Absorb'd in work for man, men I forgot, With all their cherished trivialities. Wherefore they viewed me as a thing apart. I. 'O Zeus! I bless thee for the life thou gavest, So full of bodily strength, and health, and years; I bless thee for the mind that hath no fears Of death, whereby our atoms thou still savest, Till some fine consciousness again appears. II. O Zeus! I have doubted further gifts of Gods— Doubted futurity for each special mind; The soul, like music, dying on the wind; The body merging in earth's sands and sods;— But to thy Ruling evermore resigned. III. O Zeus! no claim have we to aught beyond! We bless thee for the life we have enjoyed; We hope our spirit shall not be destroyed: Thy waters to my dying Hymn respond In harmonies that change, ere rapture-cloyed. IV. O Zeus! I hear the broad waves gently flowing Over my feet, and nestling round my knees! My senses melt away by soft degrees! My thoughts, like seeds, thy hand afar is sowing! Sweet songs are in my brain—sweet birds in trees! V. O Zeus! at all-devouring Time I smile; For he is but Heaven's little playful son, Toying, or teasing, while we graveward run: Flow then, ye waves!—our mingling sands beguile! Flow on, divine Maternity, flow on!'

#stoicism #cleanthes #richard henry horne

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kirishwima · 4 years

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Can I please have some headcanons for the RFA meeting MC's older brother, who is EXTREMELY over-protective? The "hurt her and I'll kill you, my sister deserves the best" type. (If you can add Jihyun and Saeran that'd be great, if only to see Big Brother facing both the sweetest man alive; and another man who is both a care bear and 300% more edgy than he could ever hope to be)

ok but like....my mystic messenger OC has TWO brothers, an eldest one who’s a sweet fluff bean and a twin who is EXACTLY what you’re describing lmao, so this is a scenario ive had stuck in my head for ages, bless you for sending it in lmao :DD

i’ll also be using she/her pronouns since you’ve specified them!

YOOSUNG:

* When he’ll first meet MC’s brother, he’s...actually not that worried? He’s met his sisters boyfriends before and sure, he’d tell her his opinion on them but he never like, tried to intimidate them or anything so...how bad could this go?

* Very, as it turns out.

* When Yoosung joins MC with her brother at the specified coffee shop after class, he’s met with two polar opossite looks; the one of fondness as MC waves him over, and a glare strong enough to freeze up the sun, from a man standing next to MC with his arms folded.

* Yoosung took slow shaky steps towards the table, feeling the dark aura surrounding him until it nearly suffocated him as he stood across the glaring man, MC oblivious and nonchalantly beaming up a wide grin as she leaned up to kiss Yoosung’s kiss.

* Throughout their...talk? At the coffee shop, Yoosung felt scrutinised, MC’s brother barely joining the conversation unless she prompted him to, preferring to stare Yoosung up and down instead.

* At some point MC excused herself from the table, leaving Yoosung to face the wrath of her older brother alone, with only his cup of milkshake and purple-pink straw to fend for himself.

* As MC’s brother watched her walk away, he turned back to Yoosung when she was out of earshot, his brows furrowed as if permanently in that position.

* “Listen, I’ll lay it out simple for you. That is my little sister you’re dating, the one I’d kill a man for without second thouhgt or remorse. Hurt her and I hurt you back thrice as bad, got it?”

* Yoosung blinked slow, like a squirell looking into the eyes of a shark. He made to nod before shaking himself out of his trance.

* “Wait, h-hurt her? I’d never-no! If I ever dared hurt her-which I’d never! I love her! But if I ever accidentantly did anything to make her cry, I-I’d come find you myself and ask you to beat me up!”

* MC’s brother stared at the blond dumbfounded, his lips a frown before he snorted out a laugh, loud as he shook his head and brought a hand to Yoosung’s shoulder.

* “Good” he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, “I like that response. Don’t forget what you just said kid” he said, tightening his grip on Yoosung’s shoulder as a warning.

* And so, Yoosung never forgot.

* N E V E R.

ZEN:

* Well...Zen was warned about how over-protective MC’s brother was, and how the moment he heard about their relationship he demanded he meet Zen for himself.

* And listen, Zen gets it-if he had a sister he knows he’d be just as protective, but the odds were NOT in his favor when it came to leaving a good impression on MC’s brother.

* For one, a quick search of Zen’s name online would not only bring up his many shirtless photos and fans’ screeching about him, which he wasn’t embarassed of, not really; but it would bring up that whole mess with Echo Girl, and second of all

* The day MC asked Zen to come to a resturaunt to meet her brother, of COURSE a flock of fans had to find him at the entrance, surrounding him and giggling at everything he said, one evern asking for a picture only to reach their arm around Zen’s and lean in as if to kiss him for the photo.

* That in itself wasn’t too bad-sure MC never liked it and honestly Zen didn’t either, but it’s something they both had gotten used to. No, instead, it was bad because all the fiasco happened RIGHT in front of MC’s now furious brother.

* As Zen excused himself from his fans and walked towards the table MC and her brother were sat at, he brought his hands in front of him as if to protect himself, apologizing for what just took place as he took a seat besides MC.

* When Zen leaned in to kiss MC hello....he politely turned it into a quick peck on her cheek as MC’s brother threw ice cold daggers to Zen with his glare.

* Zen tried explaining himself, professing his love for MC at every opprotunity, making her have to hide her face in her hands more than once in embarassement, he even explained the whole Echo Girl fiasco to her brother with MC backing him up on the facts.

* Still, her brother wasn’t pleased.

* At some point as Zen kept monologuing, MC’s brother put the glass he was drinking from down on the table with a little too much force, surprising Zen into silence.

* “Look, to be frank I don’t care how much you say you love MC. You’re an actor, hell, you could say ‘I love you’ to a rock and make it look romantic, it’s your freaking job. What I wanna know is, will you always be loyal to her? Will you be there for her when she needs you, or will you be chasing tail around some popular Kardashian or something?”

* MC tried to speak up but Zen halted her, giving her hand a quick squeeze under the table where he’d interlocked his fingers with hers.

* “Thank you for your honesty. If you allow me, I’ll be just as frank in my answer?” he asked, waiting for a nod from MC’s brother to continue. When he received it he nodded back, breathing in before collecting his thoughts.

* “I plan to marry your sister.” He ignored MC’s surprised gasp, simply squeezed her palm in his with a soft smile. “First of course I’d like us to move in together, find a place we can both call home. I’ve had some significant memories in my current place, but I’d leave it in a heartbeat if it’s to find a home with MC. Then I’d propose in the grandest gesture I can, but well, the when and how’s not something I can reveal right here” he grinned, stealing a quick glance at MC’s flustered face, “we’ll get married and I know she’ll be the most beautiful bride the world has seen. If she’ll have me and would be happy to, then the next step would be children. I...I haven’t told you yet” he turned to MC, his smile sheepish, “But I’d love a boy first, then a girl. So he’d be a big brother and protect her at school, because we’d raise him right, he’d be a little knight in shining armor. And she, she’d be our little princess, and we’d love them both just as much. Maybe get a dog for them too, two if you want-”

* He ignored the lodge in his throat as he continued, biting it down along with his embarassement. “And even if she wanted nothing from all that-so long as she wants me, I’ll be there, through thick and thin. So no, I’d never turn to look at another woman, ever-how could I? I have all I need right here” he said, and tugged his and MC’s interlocked fingers to rest atop the table isntead of under it.

* And well-MC’s brother had little to say after that, looking down sheepishly as he thought.

* “Ok just-damn, I had a whole speech ready and you beat me to it” he huffed. “Just-I want to be involved in the wedding planning!” he grinned.

* Turns out he’d soon become best bros with Zen lmao, who would’ve thought

JAEHEE:

* Honestly...it’d be impossible for MC’s brother to be harsh with her.

* He’s always been MC’s number one supporter, and knowing she’s found herself such a caring and smart girlfriend he’d be happy for his little sis.

* If there’s anything he’d be harsh about, it’d probably be their plan to open up a coffee shop so quickly. He wouldn’t be mean about it, but he’d sit down with MC and Jaehee and talk it through with them, telling them to consider the risks and how they’d be losing their previous jobs for this.

* Well, Jaehee had it all covered-she’s made a spreadsheet covering the coffee house’s estimated expenses and how they’d be handled going forth for at least one year, and ways to combat every little possible drawback.

* Even MC’s brother was awed, staring at Jaehee like she grew a second head.

* “You..” he started, “good luck dating my sister” was all he said, earning an elbow to the ribs by his little sister.

* Yeah, Jaehee is definitely the best girlfriend for his little sister, no doubt to that-he can’t even give her the whole ‘If you hurt her I hurt you’ spiel because...honestly the odds of her ever hurting MC are slim to none lmao

JUMIN:

* Honestly, in levels of intimidation, they’d both be the same lmao-MC’s brother would try and intimidate Jumin and he’d be completely unable to catch the hidden threat in his words-or rather, he would, but Jumin being Jumin would simply choose to ignore it.

* He’d even rertort back to every little comment her brother made with valid points as to why he’s the best husband for MC.

* “Don’t you think you’re too obsessed with cats?” MC’s brother asks. “That simply shows how devoted I am with my love and interests, which means I’ll always care and love MC with my whole being.”

* “Aren’t you just some pompous rich dude?” MC’s brother asks, rather rudely. “I don’t know about pompous, but I am rich, yes, which means I’ll always be able to provide for your sister whatever she desires.” Jumin replies.

* Honestly...he’d make MC’s brother give up on his indirect threats, and simply come out and say ‘look, I don’t like you getting married to my little sister so fast-she barely knows you!”

* And that’s the comment Jumin had been waiting for. It’s why he met up with MC’s brother in the first place; Jumin values family, and he wanted all of MC’s loved ones to be on board with her marrying him before going through with it, so that their marriage would be a happy event for everyone involved.

* So Jumin spoke honestly. “I know it’s rather fast, but we both know our feelings for each other are true and strong, and we’ve been through more in the short period of time we’ve known each other than others have been in a lifetime. Your sister is a remarkable person and she’s the first to ever draw such feelings from me, and I never want to let her go. If she’ll have me, I want to be besides her, ‘till death do us apart.”

* Well, by that point...well, MC’s brother knew how MC spoke of Jumin, how much she loved him. He was never going to fully oppose this wedding, he simply wanted to be sure both parties were completely on board with this.

* Besides...one glance at Jumin’s bodyguards let him know for certain that him threatening this millionaire with physical harm wouldn’t roll well here lol

SEVEN/SAEYOUNG/LUCIEL:

* It’d take a LOT for MC to convince Seven to meet her brother.

* Saeyoung...he’d never feel ready to meet him. What kind of face will he show to MC’s family? What will he tell them? ‘Hi, I’m the hacker that put your sister in an apartment with a bomb then took her with me to a cult’s den to find my missing twin brother? Also my dad’s a super dangerous person and we went through hell and back because of him?’

* Yeah...no.

* So for the longest time, he avoids meeting MC’s brother. Even when MC moves in with Saeran and Saeyoung, even then Saeyoung still finds excuses to postpone their meeting.

* Until one day, Saeran comes back into the house with a bag of groceries and a frown.

* “Some dude’s out there and threatened that he wants to talk with me about MC. I told him I’m not the one that’s dating her but he seems way more mad than before, you should probably go check what that’s all about” Saeran shrugs and disappears to the kitchen, leaving Saeyoung to manically check the security cameras to see who this man is-and of course, it’s MC’s brother, leaning on his car that’s parked right outside their house.

* So...there’s no more avoiding it, not when it’s come to this. MC wasn’t even home, so of course her brother had come here to...what? Beat Saeyoung up? Threaten him? And if he did, what right did Saeyoung have to fight back? There was nothing he could offer MC, and anything her brother would say to him would be correct.

* “If you want some advice or anything-” Saeran’s head popped out of the kitchen, a tub of ice cream in hand, “I say just go out there and tell him all the sappy things you tell MC when you think I ain’t listening. He hears someone talk to his sister like that he’s bound to think ‘ah fine he loves her’ and leave you alone’ he shrugged, disappearing back into the kitchen.

* With a sigh Saeyoung dragged himself outside, walking like a sheep to the slaughter as he came to stand across MC’s brother.

* Absent-mindedly, he noticed the car behind him, nodding as he took in the model. “A Fiat Abarth 500. Which year’s? They’re some tiny but mighty sports cars” he mumbled, more to himself than MC’s brother, who stared wide-eyed at the hacker.

* “Uh...it’s a 2012 one” he replied dumbfounded. “The best ones were manufactured that year” Seven nodded along.

* Were they...accidentantly bonding?

* What was meant to be a long intimidating speech turned into a 30 minute conversation about sports cars, that only ended when MC walked to the entrance of the house to find her boyfriend and her brother talking animatedly about....cars?!

* When she asked her brother why he was here he seemed to snap back to reality, pointing a finger to Saeyoung’s chest.

* “You...I was here to warn you! Ask why you were hiding yourself from me and tell you to meet me face-to-face like a man if you want to be with my sister..! But uh-you’re actually a pretty decent guy? I mean I’ll still kill you if you hurt my sis-”

* “If I ever dared to hurt her I’d have her kill me herself then have my twin brother hide my body” Seven retorted with a straight face that made a shiver run down MC’s brothers spine.

* And that’s the story of how MC’s brother and Saeyoung ended up not only becoming best friends, but MC’s bro being the only person Saeyoung ever allowed to drive one of his babies, E V E R.

SAERAN/UNKNOWN/RAY:

* He’d never admit it, but meeting MC’s brother sent chills up his spine. He had never been in a relationship before, and now here he was-he was meeting her family, living together with her-a completely changed man, and as happy as he was for the change, he was equal parts terrified.

* And as it turns out, his fear wasn’t unwarranted-her brother was a menace, sending glares Saeran’s way from the moment he came into their home for dinner like MC had invited him to.

* Yet the thing about Saeran is this-when he’s scared, he hides it like an ace up his sleeve, becoming more agressive instead, like a cat that fluffs its tail to turn its fear into a threat.

* Each jab from MC’s brother was taken and thrown back to him tenfold by Saeran, who whilst sweet to MC, was more and more cold throughout the night to her brother, much to MC’s dismay.

* It came to a point where the two were prety much fully argung, standing and threatening each other with forks and spoons over the dinner table as MC sighed, sinking into her seat waiting to see if either of them will cave and stop.

* “You’re such an asshole how can you even fucking say you care for my sister?!” “Fuck you that’s how!” Saeran screamed back.

* It escalated and escalated until MC had had enough. With a loud thud she got up from her chair, ramming both her palms onto the table, demanding the boys’ attention.

* “Shut up! Both of you just-stop it! You-” she pointed to her brother “You’re my brother, I love you and respect you, but you’re at my house and you’re yelling at my boyfriend!” she accused, making her brother look away with a scowl, “and you!” she pointed to Saeran next, “You were so sweet, worrying about what kind of foods my brother would like and even going out of your way to cook all this, only to be so rude when he did arrive?! What gives??”

* The two seemed embarassed at their actions at least-MC’s brother had his hand on his neck whilest Saeran folded his arms around himself, looking down to the floor.

* “You uh-you cooked all this?” her brother asked, nodding to the table. Saeran nodded, willing his blush to leave his face, the traitorous blood supply.

* “It’s pretty good man. I thought it was my sister, but she can’t boil pasta to save her life so uh-I was wondering who cooked.”

* “...She almost burnt the kitchen down. Twice.” Saeran supplied, smiling as MC’s brother chuckled.

* By the end of the night the two had sided in teasing MC, but she merely rolled her eyes at them-seeing them bond even over them making fun of her was worth it.

* When she excused herself to go bring the dessert, there was an awkward silence between the two boys before Saeran spoke up, making sure that MC was already in the kitchen and out of earshot.

* “I know I can-I’m an asshole sometimes. I’ve done shitty things, I’ve been mean, and without being aware of my actions, I’ve been mean to her to-” he nodded to the kitchen, “but never again. Even if I’m an ass with everyone else I’ll always cherish her. I love her, she...she’s my sunflower.”

* Her brother didn’t reply, but Saeran knew; they both knew the severity of his words.

V/JIHYUN:

friendly reminder i havent played the after ending yet orz

* After all the mess MC had been put through-getting abducted by a cult, only to end up spending a full month besides some dude who got stabbed in a hospital-her brother finding out about it all through the PHONE as he’d called his sister a million times for days whilst her phone was out of service and she wasn’t at her apartment-and then this dude up and DISAPPEARED FOR TWO YEARS? Only to then come back and start dating his sister?

* Nuh-uh. MC’s brother was gonna have some choice words with this asshat, this-cult-loving playboy who toyed with his sister this way!

* When MC’s brother walked up to MC’s place where she’d invited both this Jihyun guy and him for coffee...he expected some big player kind of guy with a snapbcack hat or something.

* He did NOT expect this lanky tall mint-coloured man with this disarming sweet smile, awkwardly extending his hand for a handshake to MC’s brother.

* All the threats MC’s brother had prepared were lodged in his throat as he took a seat across of Jihyun on the living room couch, answering his small talk questions as if they were fast new friends.

* Once MC sat down besides Jihyun and together they explained everything that had happened...Jihyun’s ex and her psychotic delusions, how he did everything he could to help but failed, how his brave little sister MC hepled Jihyun out of that situation-

* “Dude...that’s so messed up” MC’s brother ended up saying, his coffee grown cold as he got so engrossed in the story he didn’t even take a single sip.

* Jihyun nodded sheepishly, biting his lip. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in this story, ones I’ll never repeat, and once I’ve only been able to acknowledge thanks to MC” he admitted.

* Wtih a more confident look, Jihyun held MC’s free hand in his, looking her brother in the eye as he spoke.

* “I know I’ve hurt her a lot in this story, and if I could re-do it all again I’d do everything in my power to keep MC out of harm’s way-but the past is the past and I can’t change that. I can however promise that so long as she’ll have me, I’ll always be besides her to protect her and love her, no matter what. I cherish your sister more than words can convey, and I’d only wish to have your acknowledmgent in this relationship-I’m sure it’s something that would make MC happy too.”

* Honestly...where did his sister find this marshmallow of a man?? Her brother simply nodded, biting back tears-why was this dude so damn sweet, jeez.

* “D-don’t-if you hurt her I hurt you, got it?” MC’s brother sputtered half-heartedly.

* The fact that V nodded along sincerly and said ‘of course’ didn’t help.

* MC’s brother actually gave Jihyun a pat on the back before leaving, mumbling ‘you’re a good man dude’ quiet enough for his sister not to hear.

* Everyone loves Jihyun and that’s. them. facts.

-send me mysme headcanons for character reactions!-

#i went v overboard w these lmao i love the overprotective brother trope #probs bc my older brothers never cared much about me ;u;#asks #mysme #mysme prompts #mystic messenger prompts #mysme headcanons #mystic messenger headcanons #Anonymous

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