holdin-out-for-a-hero - Tumblr blog

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 1 month

Text

Confessions- Nicholas D. Wolfwood x F!Reader

A/N: this is written for 1998 Wolfwood, because he will always be the best Wolfwood. Reject modernity, embrace tradition.

Words: 1535

Warnings: none?

A knock on the door was how it started.

"How can I help ya?" He leaned against the door, signature charming-borderline-flirtatious smile adorning his face.

But when he looked to her, his smile fell. Something was wrong. He could see it, in her face, in the tightness of her shoulders, in the nervous wringing of her hands.

"Is everything alright?" He asked, a brow raised.

"Is confession still open?" She asked. She had never made a confession to him before, never even seemed like the religious type. But he could tell something was weighing down on her today.

"It's always open," he held the door open for her to come in.

She stepping in apprehensively, glancing around the room until her gaze landed on the table, where the confessional hat was resting.

"You don't have to wear that stupid thing, it's just us in here," he started, approaching the two chairs at the table, "Care to sit?"

She sat down stifly, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stared back at her.

"I've never done this sort of thing before," she muttered.

"I didn't think so," he laughed.

"So uh... I'm supposed to pay you, right?" She held out a hand with a few coins in it.

"No," he stopped her, "it's on the house. I can tell there's something weighing heavy on your soul."

"Yeah, you could say that..."

She stared at the bottle of liquor and shot glass on the table.

"You need a little loosening up?" He picked up the bottle and poured a shot into the glass, "Relax, sweetheart, the only ones who are going to hear it are me and God Almighty."

She took the shot and downed it.

"Another, please."

He laughed and obliged.

"This must be something pretty heavy to get you all nervous like this." Silence. He looked up at her, the shot glass paused at her lips, and tears welling in her eyes, "The Lord forgives all, and he doesn't judge those who come to him for forgiveness."

"Will you judge me?"

The question took him by surprise, he stared at her a moment more.

"Sweetheart, I'm in no place to judge anybody," he poured a shot of his own this time, same glass, and downed it, "If the Lord can forgive me for all I've done, then he can forgive any miserable sack of shit in this world, let alone a sweet little thing like you."

He caught himself, mouthing a quick "sorry" to the sky, which caused her to giggle.

"I won't judge you. There's nothing you can say to me that will make me see you any other way than I do now."

She stared into his eyes a moment more, debating whether on not she could trust him. But those warm browns wore away at her resolve and eased her worries. She took a deep breath.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

He looked up to the ceiling

"You ready, big man?"

Another small laugh escaped her lips, putting a smile back onto his own lips, a real one this time.

She divulged her deepest, darkest secret to him. One that was years old, and more tragic than it was heinous. But she still held that guilt, as many do, and he understood why. No one knows how their actions can affect the future, and she was just another victim of a cruel fate.

The words spilled out like a broken dam, years of pressure pushing it all out in an almost unintelligible stream of tears. It was raw and ugly, and even though he said he wouldn't judge her, she sat waiting, watching his expression. Was he judging her?

He just stared on, face slack and eyes half-lidded, thinking. It stayed silent like that a moment more, him adjusting in his seat as he processed what all she had admitted.

He looked back at her.

"You've carried that burden for a long time, haven't you?"

All she could do was nod as the tears broke through, broken sobs pushing themselves up through her lungs.

"C'mere," he opened his arms.

She didn't think twice, stumbling into his arms with no shame, curling up into his lap and burying her face into his shoulder. Her grip was tight, holding on like he was her only lifeline. The charismatic priest with dubious morals, who held her back with such sincerity, such care.

"You don't have to carry that burden anymore," he shushed, smoothing a hand over her hair.

She sobbed harder; it was something she had needed to hear for years.

"Oh God..." she cried, tears soaking through his suit jacket and onto his shirt, "I'm a disgrace, aren't I?"

"You're not a disgrace," he said, "That's bullshit. Don't you ever think you're a disgrace."

His grip on her tightened as he let her release her emotions all over his jacket.

"Look at me," he said.

She didn't hear him over her own sobbing.

"Look at me, Y/N."

She glanced up at him slowly, her face a pitiful sight to behold.

"You are not a disgrace. You got that?"

"I need another shot," she said, leaning over his arm to reach for the bottle.

He grabbed it and held it out of her reach.

"I think you've had enough."

"I've only had three shots!"

"Yeah, of 80 proof!"

She dropped her arms in defeat, another wave of tears building in her eyes. She looked up at him.

"I don't wanna feel like this," she said.

"The only way out is through, believe me. Liquor will dull the pain but it won't let it go away."

"You're one to talk."

He laughed.

"You've got a lot of nerve too, Y'know?"

He pulled her back into his chest, placing one hand against her hair, the other around her back.

"And you've got a lot left to get out, so you might as well get it out now. I don't want you dealing with this alone."

And she did, though not nearly as violent as before. This time it was just occasional sniffles and whimpers, gently shushed away by the calming comfort of Wolfwood. Who would've thought a man like him had a side so soft?

"I hate to see one of God's children in so much pain," he whispered, almost to himself, "At least one of the good ones, anyway."

This caused her to snort into this jacket. A smile grew on his face.

"You all worn out?" he asked.

A low hum came from his shoulder, muffled by his jacket.

"I thought so," he said, placing his hands under her legs and behind her back.

He picked her up gently and walked over to hotel bed.

She made a confused noise and looked up at him with big, doe eyes. She made no attempt to escape his grasp, though; she trusted him.

"You need to rest, and I doubt you want the other idiots to see you like this, they'd never leave you alone. They'd suffocate ya and grill it out ya," he said. He placed her down on the bed gently and pushed a hair away from her face.

"I'll sleep on the floor, so you don't need to worry about that."

He took the second pillow from the bed turned to walk away, when a hand tugged at the end of his jacket.

He turned around and was caught by those doe eyes, still glassy and red and pitiful looking.

"You want me to stay?" He asked.

She looked away, a small blush dusting her cheeks.

"I mean... only if you want to."

He huffed in amusement before slipping off his shoes and coat jacket.

"Scoot over."

She did so without a second thought.

He slid into bed beside her and placed his hands behind his head, elbows splaying across the pillows.

"Come 'ere doll," he said, tired.

She scooted towards him and laid her head against his shoulder, just below his jaw, and curled up into his side.

He placed his arm around her back and rubbed slow, lazy circles into it. He could feel the tension drop from her muscles as soon as he did so. He huffed in amusement.

"Comfy?" He asked.

"Mhmm" she hummed softly, eyelids starting to drag every time she blinked.

Another few seconds passed in a comfortable, cozy silence.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Oh, It's just part of the job, Sweetheart."

"This is?" She lifted her head from his chest to look at him.

"Well, no, not this," he laughed, "But I don't particularly mind this either."

A smile formed on her face and she shut her eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat as it lulled her to sleep.

Nicholas stared up at the ceiling, waiting, until he heard her soft snores. He looked down at her peaceful expression, the redness from the crying had started to fade away.

He placed a soft kiss to the top of her head before turning back to look at the ceiling, which he knew he'd be getting familiar with that night. Cause with the girl he liked all curled up and comfy in his arms, he didn't think he'd get much sleep that night.

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun 1998 #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #wolfwood x reader #trigun wolfwood

30 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 5 months

Photo

the only right men spectrum with the men of ff7

101 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 5 months

Text

So no spoilers but uhhhhh

MY BOY MY BEAUTIFUL BABY BOY MY BOYYYYYY MY BIG BOY MY HANDSOME BOY MY BOY

#I’m gonna finish that fucking fanfiction if it’s the last thing I do #it’s been 4 YEARS #4 YEARS #And that shit still ain’t finished.

9 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 1 year

Text

Ok, so FFVII Crisis Core Reunion is out.

WHO’S GONNA START WRITING THE ANGEAL X READER FICS??????

I cannot carry this burden alone

#help a girl out #ffviir #angeal hewley #angeal hewley x reader #Angeal #final fantasy #crisis core #crisis core reunion #FF7R

79 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 2 years

Text

Creep- FFVII Biggs X Reader Ch.17

Warnings: blood, descriptions of wounds

A/N: Sorry it took over a year for an update lol. Ya girl’s been through it. But I promise I will finish this fic this year. There are only two chapters left after this.

The familiar lights of sector 5 came into view. They shone like beacons of hope, sparkling in the dreadful darkness. Relief washed over you at the sight, albeit only for a moment.

Crowds of people were staring up at the sky behind you, pointing, gasping, and whispering to each other; the fear in their eyes was impossible to miss. Children were crying, people were moaning in pain, and worst of all, every gunshot and every explosion carried through the air as if it were right behind you.

"Help! We need a doctor!" One of the neighborhood watch boys shouted.

Some of the crowd turned their eyes to look at your bloody, panicked group. More gasps, more whispers of disbelief, looking at your dear friend like he was some type of sideshow attraction. Some of the parents shielded their children's eyes.

There was blood, so much blood. It dripped onto the dirt below; a puddle began to form. You felt sick.

You tore your eyes away from the sight.

"Is anyone a doctor?!" You shouted, eyes darting through the crowd for someone, anyone to help.

A white coat caught your eye, worn by a man crouching down on the dirt and wrapping bandages around a woman's arm. There were a few other wounded people sitting or lying around the man, but none nearly as urgent as Biggs.

"Hey!" You shouted, pushing through the crowd to reach him, "Doctor!"

The man looked up at you.

"We need your help!" You said.

You grabbed him by the arm before he could reply and dragged him towards your friend. You shoved him the final distance towards Biggs.

He stumbled, but quickly regained his composure as he looked at the source of your commotion.

"Oh my god," the man muttered. There was too much blood, anyone could see that. He placed two fingers on Biggs' neck. You felt your own heart stop as you waited for him to say something, anything.

A woman pushed her way through the crowd. Tan skin, dark curly hair, and glasses; She looked familiar.

"Biggs!" She shouted, running forward to get a better look at him.

She stopped in her tracks and gasped, her eyes wide like saucers at the sight.

"Quick!" She beckoned, "bring him inside!"

She ushered the men into the nearest building: the orphanage. Biggs had taken you there many times before. It always felt so warm and full of life, but this time was different. The children all crowded around the windows, oddly silent.

They all turned to look as the doors bust open, a group of men carrying a bloody, limp form up the nearest staircase. The face of the man was hidden from most of the children, who were either too short to see past the men's heads or had their eyes covered by one of the caretakers.

Except for one little girl. Five, maybe six years old, who just happened to be on the stairs as the men were going up. Her face grew pale at the sight, and her lip began to quiver.

"Biggs?" She asked.

The rest of the kids heard it.

Gasps, questions, shouts, and cries erupted before any of the caretakers could stop it. Children rushed forward, following you and the group of men up the stairs. Most were pulled back by the caretakers, but not without a struggle. The children were nearly impossible for the small staff to contain, and a few stragglers made it to the second floor.

The woman pushed a door open and held it for the men, who rushed inside. They dropped Biggs on the small cot, clearly made for a child, and the doctor made quick work cutting off his bloody shirt.

Everything was happening around you so fast you couldn't keep up with it all. The room felt like a whirlwind, people rushing past you, running in all directions; it was dizzying. The doctor shouted orders to the watch members quicker than you could process them. You could hardly process anything at all.

Your mouth felt dry, incredibly dry. And every time you swallowed, the lump in your throat nearly choked you.

"Is he gonna be ok?" You asked.

The doctor didn't look up from his work, and neither did any of the neighborhood watch members. It was as if you hadn't said anything at all. And yet you waited, unable to breathe until you received your answer.

"I don't know," the doctor finally answered, continuing his work without a second thought.

Your eyes locked on Biggs' abdomen. With his shirt now gone, you could see his wounds on full display. A gash, a bullet hole, both oozing fresh blood. There was dried blood everywhere.

You couldn't stop staring at it. The sight of the still bleeding wounds scared you to death. He had already lost so much blood, and yet you were afraid that if he stopped bleeding, that would mean his heart had finally stopped. So you watched the blood, it bubbled at a steady pace, fluctuating with every beat of his heart.

Beat.

A hand grabbed at your arm gently; the woman. She gave a small sad smile. And without a word, she led you out of the room.

She closed the door quietly behind her, ushering away the children who had managed to sneak upstairs against the staff's wishes. She scolded them quietly and told them not to talk to the other kids about what they saw. A request she knew would not be fulfilled.

She turned back to you, the same unconvincing smile on her lips as she whipsered, "Let's get you cleaned up."

Her hand wrapped around your wrist, giving a slight squeeze as she led you to the bathroom. The gesture, although kind, made you feel like a child in trouble.

Pushing the door open, she led you inside the small communal bathroom. Then, she crouched down to search through the cupboard under the sink.

You took a step towards the mirror, finally taking in your own appearance. It was then that you understood why she dragged you in; you likely would scare the children.

Your face was covered with sweat and dirt, black mascara had pooled under your eyes and run down your face, and worst of all, trails of blood caked your skin. It was his, you realized. His blood was all over your face.

You reached a shaky hand up to touch it. Some of it flaked off with the pressure, the brown flecks falling into the sink.

"My name's Folia," the woman said, moving beside you to wet the washcloth. You snapped out of your trance and looked at her.

"I'm-" you started

"Y/N, right?" She cut you off.

"How did you know?"

"He talks about you all the time to the kids," she said, giving you a smile that faded into nothing as she wrung the cloth. The mention of him made both of you grow silent.

She took your face in one hand and started dabbing at the blood with the washcloth. It came off your skin with relative ease, and so did the dirt. The mascara was a little bit difficult, but it came off eventually. And then she was done.

She took the washcloth under the sink again, washing away the stains.

"What all did he say about me?" You asked quietly.

"Don't worry, It was all good," she gave a small laugh, "he really seemed to have a thing for you."

The lump in your throat grew and your vision went blurry. The lights in the room looked like starbursts.

"Were the two of you ever... Y'know, together?" She asked.

You quickly shook your head no, a tear sliding down your face.

"Hey, don't lose hope just yet. He's a fighter, a real stubborn one too."

You huffed out a small laugh.

"You're right about that," you said, wiping the tears away. "What about you? How did you know him?"

"He was my teacher when I used to stay here as a kid... more like the older brother I never had. He was the whole reason I wanted to become a teacher."

Another solemn beat of silence.

It occurred to you that he had touched everyone's lives that he was a part of. He brought joy, comfort, humor, intelligence, strength, guidance, and solidarity to so many people. What a selfless man he was, spending all his spare time and paychecks on the kids at the leaf house, like a modern day saint.

It made you wonder, how could a man like him fall in love with you? And how on earth is if fair that his life could be taken so easily?

No, You shook your head.

He wasn't dead yet. He wasn't dead yet. He still had hope.

He was in the safest place you knew of, all things considered, and being treated with the best care a citizen of the slums could ask for.

There was nothing more you could do to help him. Whether he lived or died, that was up to Gaia.

Your friends were still on the pillar, though. And you couldn't live with yourself if something happened to them. Jessie, Wedge, Barrett, Tifa, and even Cloud. They were still fighting. Even though the battle was clearly lost...

You had to go get them.

You looked back at Folia, who was wringing out the wet washcloth, and mustered up the courage to tell her.

"Look,” you exhaled, “I really want to stay and look after Biggs, but I've got to make sure my friends in Sector 7 are ok."

Folia stopped what she was doing and stood frozen as she looked back at you, reading your expression.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" She asked, “I heard it's like a war zone out there, and the plate could fall any minute."

"I can't just stay here and wait for it to happen," you said, “They could be hurt, just like Biggs.”

Folia's brows knit together as she looked down at the cracked linoleum tiles.

"What if you don't come back?" She looked up at you, "When he wakes up, the first thing he's gonna do is ask for you."

You bit your lip, there was nothing more you wanted than to be by his side if he woke up. You'd do anything to stay with him. But you wouldn't, no, you couldn't, just leave your friends.

You couldn't shake the images of them in your head, images of them riddled with bullets, slumped against the pillar, covered in blood. Just like Biggs.

"I know...," you looked Folia in the eye, "But I need them to be safe too. If something happened to them, I don't know what I'd do."

Folia shut her eyes and sighed, she knew you weren't going to be persuaded.

"I understand. If you've got to go, I'll stay here and make sure the doctor doesn't need anything."

"Thank you," you said, turning to leave the bathroom. But before you could leave, Folia caught your wrist.

"You better come back," she said, her gaze was intense, "He needs you."

You nodded to her.

"I'll come back. I promise."

She let go of your wrist.

You hurried out the hall and down the stairs, brushing past the confused children crowded in the lobby. Little hands tried to grab at you, and little voices tried to ask how Biggs was, but you weee too quick. You made it out the door before they could get to you.

You looked up in the sky. The plate was still there. There was still time.

But then you felt something. Something bad, something wrong.

The ground shook beneath you, and a deafening rumble echoed through the streets.

Your heart sank.

You could only stand and stare as the sector seven plate fell from the sky and crumbled to the ground, in large, flaming chunks.

What couldn't have been more than a minute felt like a lifetime as you watched each piece of debris descend upon the city below...

Then came the wave of dust.

You managed to break free from your trance and run back into the leaf house just before it hit you. As soon as you turned around, the windows had become fully clouded over.

You placed a hand on the glass, trying to look past the endless sea of brown. It was pointless, you couldn't see anything, and yet you couldn't tear your eyes away, trying to find any figure, any silhouette in the fog.

Your friends weren't in there, right?

They had gotten out, right?

If there was one thing you knew about them, though, is they'd rather die fighting then sit back and watch this happen, so the answer was quite clear...

You suddenly felt lightheaded, your mouth incredibly dry, and a lead weight in your heart.

Folia rushed down the stairs, stopping in front of the window only for a moment before running to console the screaming kids.

Weird, it was only then you noticed the kids crying. You didn't notice anything happening around you. And even now, you still felt disconnected from it all. Chaos was unfolding all around you, and yet it didn't feel real. Nothing felt real.

Brown splotches were taking over your vision, and you grabbed onto the chair next to you, your hands shaking as they guided you to sit down. It was only then you realized how quick your breathing had gotten.

You leaned forward, trying to increase the bloodflow in your brain. Shutting your eyes, you took a couple deep breaths. They didn't come very easy, so you counted each inhale and exhale, just like Biggs had taught you.

Inhale...1...2...3...4...

Exhale...1...2...3...4...

Inhale...1...2...3..4...

All your friends were dead.

Inhale ...1...2...3...4

Barrett, Wedge, Cloud,

Exhale...1...2...3...4

Jessie and Tifa

Inhale...1...2...3...4

Marlene.

Your eyes shot open.

It couldn't be... she couldn't be...

Your breathing regressed back into a shallow, ragged mess, like someone or something was crushing your chest, breaking each and every rib in the process. You gasped for air, tears pricking at your eyes.

"Y/N!" A voice shouted, and footsteps rushed towards you. You didn't look up, you couldn't. Any sudden movement and you'd surely pass out.

"Y/N, you gotta breathe," the woman said, kneeling down to your level and taking your hands into her own. You recognized the voice; Folia, “Hey, look, breathe with me."

"Breathe in..." she instructed, you sucked in a quick breath, "Hold..."

Your lungs felt like they were on fire.

"Breathe out..." she said calmly, you quickly expelled the air out of your mouth, "Breathe in... hold... breathe out."

"Marlene," you managed to spit out, "I-I think Marlene was still in there."

She froze, you could feel it.

She must have recognized the name; Biggs probably brought her up all the time.

She didn't say anything, instead she sat down on the chair beside you, dropping her own heard into her hands as the full weight of the realization hit her.

And with that, you fell back into your fit of sobs, crying for your friends, crying for your family, crying like your life fucking depended on it.

#biggs #biggs x reader #ffviir #final fantasy vii #tifa lockhart #jessie rasberry #barrett wallace #cloud strife #ff7 biggs #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy #ffvii remake #ffvii biggs #ffvii tifa #barret wallace

49 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 2 years

Text

Ok why is there not a single Rock X reader fic??? I’m in love with this cinnamon roll :’)))

#someone write for this man #I’m begging you #some sweet soft stuff please #if you ever even thought of writing for him please do #I probably will eventually but I can’t carry this load on my own #black lagoon #rokuro okajima #rock #revy #Rebecca lee #Dutch #Benny #balalaika

59 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 2 years

Text

Safe and Sound- Nanami Kento X Reader

Warnings: none

Words: 644

A/N: just a short and sweet little Nanami Fic bc I’m obsessed with this king ❤️

The pitter patter of raindrops drowned out most other sounds in the dim living room. A summer storm was making its way through your area in full force; a much needed rain to end your city's mild drought.

Nanami picked up the TV remote and turned the volume up ever so slightly, glancing down at your sleeping form to make sure he didn't wake you. When you didn't stir, he placed the remote back down and wrapped both of his arms around you, his gaze glued to the old sit-com on TV.

He was leaning against the back of the couch, legs stretched along the sectional as he rubbed absent-minded circles against the flesh of your arm.

You were out cold, completely exhausted from an awful day at work. It had taken a toll on you both physically and emotionally, leaving your body aching and eyes watering. As soon as you had gotten home, you took a tylenol and jumped into Nanami's arms on the couch.

It was just sprinkling then, but in the hour that you lay dreaming against his chest, the rain picked up into a full-on torrent. The winds had started to pick up, too, whistling against the house as the low growl of distant thunder reminded Nanami on the weather report he had seen earlier in the day. It was supposed to storm for the next couple days, he remembered.

Nanami never minded storms. Some say the rain cleanses the soul, and though Nanami was never one to believe such things, he couldn't help but feel purified after a large storm. Everything needs a catharsis, even Mother Nature, and Nanami lived vicariously through the downpours, the thunder, the lightning. But today he needed no catharsis, so the storm only brought him comfort.

It was the small moments like these that he liked the most: the calming sound of the rain against the roof, a comforting show to watch, and your body curled up against his own. It made all of the bullshit he dealt with on a daily basis worth it, coming home everyday and surrendering to the soft domesticity. He ate up every second of it.

The low, grumbling thunder had grown closer now, it's lack of consistency adding a certain spice to the ambience. The rain had kept its torrential pace, drowning out most of the thoughts in Nanami's head. However violent the weather was outside, it was perfectly peaceful inside the house.

A rather loud crack of thunder startled you awake, your eyes darting around the room in a scared confusion.

"It's ok, it was just thunder," Nanami reassured, low voice smooth like honey. His free hand cupped your head as he pressed a kiss to your temple, "Go back to sleep."

His words comforted your frazzled mind and you calmed down, laying your head back against his chest. You took a deep breath, trying to slow the pace of your heart. His cologne smelled so good, you thought. The fragrance grounded you.

His warm arms and soft heartbeat began to lull you back to sleep. The gentle circles he rubbed into your back were making it hard to keep your eyes open, and the rain wasn't helping either. You didn't care to fight it, though, for this was your favorite part of the day, too. Naps in Nanami's arms were the main thing you looked forward too after a long day of work, and you wouldn't let a little thunder get in the way of that. So, snuggling closer into his chest, you shut your eyes.

Pretty soon your soft snores filled the air again, causing Nanami to look down at you with a small grin, seemingly amused by how quickly you fell back asleep. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head before whispering a soft,

“I love you.”

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x reader

193 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 2 years

Text

Vertigo- Spike Spiegel X F! Reader

Warnings: none

Words: just under 2k

A/N: this might become a small series of one-shots. I’m calling it the Couch Chronicles. They won’t be written in order, I’ll make the order later.

You hadn't left that stupid yellow couch all day. Well, besides to piss a couple times and get a cup of water. Even then, it was a struggle to keep balanced as the world was spinning around you. It was hard to pick things up, hard to walk in a straight line, hard to even think.

Somehow, no one on the bebop had noticed. The did notice you curled up under a blanket on the couch, but they didn't notice the smeared mascara under your eyes or the quiet sobs that you muffled into the pillow.

It was terrifying, not being able to even open your eyes without getting nauseous, let alone stand up from the couch. Even taking a piss was a difficult task. You'd hold it as long as you could until you were about to burst, then make your way through the spinning ship to the bathroom, white knuckles holding onto the seat for fear life.

You had gotten vertigo a few times in your life, but it never lasted this long and it was never this intense. And to be truthful, you were scared shitless. What if it didn't go away? What if you got hurt the next time you went to the toilet? What if this was a symptom of something much worse? Another tear fell down your cheek, you squeezed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the nausea. The effort was futile, your nausea was here to stay. It did help a little with the dizziness though, and you were grateful for the relief.

Spike stared at your curled up form on the couch, your blanket covered your entire body and then some. You had been on that couch all day, his couch. And all he wanted to do was lean back on the yellow sofa and have a cigarette. It was getting late, and you were still on his couch.

Were you on your period? He thought, or did you lose a bounty? Or did your heart get broken by another idiot? Whatever the reason, he didn't care. He was getting his couch back.

"Y/N," he whispered, shaking your shoulder gently. Another wave of dizziness hit you. Damnit, Spike.

"Y/N," he whispered again. Was he worried about you? Did someone finally notice your dying body?

"What?" You asked, not turning to meet his face. You didn't want him to see you like this.

"Hey, uh," he started, "I noticed you've been on the couch all day..."

So he did notice, you thought. He was worried, he did care.

"Mind if I have it back?"

You let out a huff. That asshole.

"Fuck you," you whispered, curling even further into a ball.

"Y/N, I'm serious, I want my couch back," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying you turn you over. You resisted.

"Too bad."

He stared at your blanket-clad form for a moment more.

"Move," he said, ripping the blanket off of you.

"No," You covered your face, curling up into an even tighter ball.

"I'm serious, move!"

"I can't!" You shouted, finally turning to face him, your red, glossy, mascara-stained eyes on full display.

His face dropped when he saw you, frozen for a moment as he looked at the gray tear-tracks that slid down your cheeks.

"What do you mean you can't?" He asked gently.

"I'm so fucking dizzy I can't stand up," you said, your pitiful voice a quiet sob.

He really felt like an asshole now.

"Have you felt like this all day?" He asked, getting down on his knees to your level.

You just nodded, tears welling up in your eyes for your 15th crying session of the day.

"Why the hell didn't you tell anybody?" He huffed, voice half a whisper. Though he sounded annoyed, you could hear the worry in his tone.

"Cause I'm too prideful," you joked, though it wasn't too far from the truth.

"Damnit, you're starting to sound like me," he smiled. That damn smile....

"It's getting late," he started, "Why don't we get you back to your room? I bet your bed is a lot comfier than this hunk of junk." His hand came to slap the couch cushion just below your feet.

"You'll help me?" You asked.

"Yeah, I'll help you."

He gently picked you up from the couch, his arms supporting your back and knees. The motion, although gentle, threw you off balance again. You clung to his neck, eyes shut tightly and face buried into his shoulder, as if the spinning would would swallow you up if you didn't hold on tight enough.

"Relax, I'm not gonna drop you," he said, arms pulling you closer to his chest.

He made his way towards your room, noticing how your grip on his suit got tighter the faster he walked, and slowing down as much as he could without reaching a snail's pace.

"You're doing all this for that damn couch," you whispered into his shoulder. He chuckled.

"I'm not doing this for the couch," he said, voice low and husky. You felt your stomach flip. As much as you wanted to blame it on the vertigo, you knew it wasn't the vertigo. You pouted into his shoulder. Damn, you were down bad for him.

He reached your room and opened the pod door, taking a gentle step over the raised threshold, and then another. He then approached your bed. As he got the the foot of the small twin sized mattress, a loud growl interrupted the silence. Your face burned with embarrassment; it was your stomach.

Spike chuckled at the sound.

"You hungry?" He asked. You didn't even have time to answer before he responded, "I'll get you something."

"No," you said as he placed you down on your bed.

"No?" he questioned, "Why not?"

" 'm too nauseous to eat."

His brow furrowed as he

"Have you eaten at all today?"

"No."

He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"You've got to eat. How do you know that's not making it worse?" He didn't give you time to answer before turning on his heels to leave, "I'm gonna find you something to eat, maybe see if Jet has any remedies. I don't think you'd like any of mine."

————

Spike scoured through the fridge and pantry, looking for anything you wouldn't throw up. He had found a package of crackers, they were on the counter as he looked for anything else that might work. Something more substantial, perhaps. Something with nutritional value.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Jet's low growl of a voice made spike jump.

"Jeez, Jet, give a warning next time!" Spike said, looking up at his friend for a moment before going back to his task, "You got anything good for nausea? Everything in here's so greasy."

"We got crackers, but I guess you found those already,” Jet motioned to the package on the counter, "Thats about it."

"Damn," Spike sighed, closing the fridge door.

"Poor Spike got a tummy ache?" Jet joked, slapping a hand onto Spike's shoulder.

"Y/N's got vertigo. She hasn't eaten all day and she doesn't want to because she's nauseous."

"Is that why she was laying on the couch all day?"

Spike nodded.

"Damn, I feel like an asshole for not checking up on her," Jet muttered.

"Tell me about it," Spike sighed, "I tried kicking her off the couch, that's how I found out."

"You really are an asshole..."

"Hey!"

A beat of silence passed through the small kitchen as Spike filled a glass with water.

"Should could've told one of us, we would've helped her," Jet spoke, Just as he did so, Faye walked down the hall and past the kitchen. "Well, some of us would've helped her."

"I don't think she's used to getting help, let alone asking for any."

"It's a real shame..." Jet trailed off, "I think I have something for nausea, bought it after you tried to feed me a lizard last time I was sick. I'll go find it.”

"Good, just bring it to her room," Spike said, picking up the crackers and glass of water before leaving the kitchen.

————

Spike and Jet had managed to get you to eat, and the medicine Jet brought had really helped with your nausea. The spinning, on the other hand, didn't get any better. But then again, you didn't expect that from an anti nausea medication.

Jet had left a little while ago, leaving you and spike alone. He had talked about everything and nothing in order to distract you from the spinning, but it was getting late, and he was running out of things to say.

"Well, I think I'm gonna head to bed," Spike yawned, standing up from the chair and turning towards the door.

You caught his wrist before he could take a step.

"Please, don't leave," you whispered. He turned to you, his eyes meeting your glassy ones and he froze. You still looked so pitiful, so afraid. He had never seen you this afraid before. Shit, you've fought violent battles and faced certain death, but dizziness of all things you were afraid of. Spike thought of himself a strong- willed man, but he couldn't refuse that pitiful stare.

"Alright," he sighed, slipping off his shoes and shaking off his coat, "Move over."

You did as he said, the small motion disorienting you for a moment. Oh, the things you do for that man.

Spike pulled off his tie and loosened the top buttons of his shirt before pulling himself under the covers next to you.

You weren't expecting what he did next, though.

He gently pulled your body on top of his own, arms coming to wrap around your torso as he tucked your face into his neck.

"It's gonna go away, I know it will," he reassured, running his hand through your hair, "I'm willing to bet that it'll be gone by tomorrow morning, let's say.... 20,000 woolong?"

"Hell no," you said, he chuckled. The sound and gentle reverberation of his chest sent butterflies through your stomach.

A few moments passed in silence, Spike running his fingers though your hair and you listening to his gentle breathing. This was nice, you thought. Something you wished would happen for a while now. You wished the circumstances were different though, cause even though Spike's presence and affection was comforting, the worry that your vertigo would never go away still lingered in the back of your mind.

"Y'know," you started, voice soft, "I' ve had this happen to me a few times before. But it's never lasted this long or been this intense."

"It's gonna go away, I promise. Everything's gonna be fine," he reassured, holding you closer, "Try and sleep, I'm sure that'll help."

"Spike?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah, doll face?"

"Thank you, for everything."

"Don't mention it, just try and sleep, 'kay?"

"Ok," you mumbled, nuzzling closer into his neck. And soon enough, the warmth of his body combined with his steady breaths and the comforting arms wrapped around you had lulled you into a half-asleep state.

Your eyes closed and your breathing slowed, something Spike took notice of.

A familiar feeling tugged on his heart as he stared down at you. Over the past few months he had fallen hard for you, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't anymore. The feeling never went away; it only grew.

The last time he had been in love, it only brought him pain. But somehow, he knew this time would be different.

He stared down at you for a moment more before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. Then, he closed his own eyes, sure that you hadn't been awake to feel the kiss. But you felt it, you definitely felt it.

#cowboy bebop #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #Jet black #Faye Valentine #x reader

352 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 3 years

Text

People who read fics written in the first person perspective have the same vibe as people who put milk in the bowl before their cereal. I will not elaborate, if you know then you know

24 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 3 years

Text

Night Terrors- Kevin Levin X Reader

A/N: I needed to quench my Kevin Levin thirst so here’s this. I hope you like it. There may or may not be a part two. I’m not sure yet

(There’s like no gifs for him that fit this fic)

Staring at the obnoxiously bright computer screen in front of you, a frustrated sigh escaped your lips. Your laptop displayed twenty problems. Twenty problems assigned by your evil algebra teacher, and within the hour you've been working, only four had been completed. At this rate you'd never get finished.

You wished Gwen were here... she would have explained it perfectly and you'd be done in no time. But she couldn't help you today. She was a busy girl, and you understood that. With the four of you fighting all types of intergalactic threats, you were kind of in the same boat.

You glanced over at your bed, where your boyfriend, Kevin, lay sprawled out snoring. An amused huff of air came from your nose as you looked at the sight; his mouth was wide open as he drooled all over your pillow. Ok, maybe that wasn't so cute.

The clock next to your bed read 8:47. At this rate there was no way you'd finish your homework, which meant there was no point in going grey trying. Your grade wouldn't suffer too much - at least you hoped it wouldn't - but it was a risk you were willing to take.

You closed your laptop in defeat, and, as if on cue, your stomach growled. Guess that early dinner with Kevin didn't cut it. And if it wasn't enough for you, it sure as hell wasn't enough for Kevin. There were a few slices of leftover pizza in the fridge, you remembered, and just the thought of them had you salivating.

You tiptoed out of your room and down the stairs into the kitchen, taking the entire pizza box out of the fridge and bringing it back up with you. As you approached your bedroom door, though, you could hear a slight whimpering. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound, and you carefully pushed the door open.

Kevin was tossing and turning, his face contorting in pain as he tried to escape from his nonexistent threat. His pained moans were getting louder, and his movements in the bed were growing more violent. You dropped the pizza box on the nearest desk and ran to Kevin's side.

"Kevin..." you whispered, trying to shake him awake.

That was a bad decision, you realized, as it only made his movements more violent, more desperate. But it was all you could do, for if you didn't wake him up, he was at risk of hurting himself

"Kevin!" you said. He still wasn't responding.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you shook him again.

"Kevin!" You shouted.

He opened his eyes and gasped, shooting up from the bed. His wide eyes surveyed the room for any signs of a threat. He checked and double checked, his breathing still ragged as he tried to figure out where he was.

"Kevin," you said softly. He didn't respond, "Kevin, look at me."

He glanced over to where you were leaning against the bed. The moment his eyes met yours, you felt your stomach drop. He looked so terrified, so genuinely scared. It was so... not Kevin. Or at least, not the Kevin he showed you.

"Hey. Look at me. You're safe. everyone's safe. Everything is ok," you tried to reassure him, "there's nothing to be afraid of."

He stared at you, his eyes locked on yours as he processed what you just said. You waited in silence for a response, but didn't get any.

That was, until he pulled you onto the bed with him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he buried his face in your shoulder.

It took a moment for you to adjust to what just happened, but when you did, you wrapped yourself around him just as tight.

"It's ok..." you whispered, "I've got you."

And though he didn't move or whimper, you could feel the wet stain forming on your shirt.

You ran your hands up and down his back as you tried to calm him down, to bring him back to reality.

The two of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes, Kevin holding you tightly and you running your fingers through his hair, placing the occasional kiss on his head and saying a word of reassurance.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You eventually whispered. He seemed to grow stiff in your arms.

"Hell no," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"Ok, we won't," you reassured. He didn't release his grip on you, though. So you sat in silence in his arms, running your fingers across his scalp.

He stayed quiet in your arms a few moments more, before finally speaking up.

"Can I stay here tonight?" He asked, his voice still muffled by your shirt. You thought about it a moment.

"I guess so," you started, "You're lucky my parents aren't coming home tonight."

"Yeah," he laughed softly, "Your old man hates me."

A smile formed on your lips; you had gotten him to laugh. Even if it was weak, it still counted.

"He doesn't hate you," you replied.

"Yeah right," he lifted his face from your shirt, a small smile now adorning his lips, "No father looks at a guy like me and thinks 'he's good good intentions, I'd love for him to date my kid."

"But you do have good intentions," you said, cupping his face with one hand. He placed his hand on top of yours.

"Tell him that."

You noticed how close his face was to yours. So close you could feel his breath against your skin. You glanced from his eyes, down to his lips, then back to his eyes again. All the while, he was looking at you too, with those beautiful brown eyes of his. You felt yourself leaning in.

But he just had a nightmare; you didn't know if he really wanted to kiss you after that. And even though his gaze seemed so intimate, you had to be sure.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked.

Instead of an answer, he slowly pressed his lips to yours. It started so gentle, much more gentle than he normally kissed. But then he deepened it, his lips tenderly ebbing and flowing against yours.

Kevin's stomach interrupted the kiss with a growl, and you laughed into his lips. He pulled away, a small smile on his mouth as laughed it off too.

"I don’t think dinner cut it,” he said, placing his hand on his stomach.

“I figured it wouldn’t,” you said, pointing to the pizza on the desk. As soon as Kevin saw it he lept up from the bed and went for it.

“It’s been sitting out for a little while though,” you warned him, “It might be lukewarm now.”

He looked up at you for a second before taking a bite from a slice. Of course he didn’t care; he was Kevin.

You smiled as you looked up at the cutie who was staying over tonight. Sure, he could be an idiot, but he was your idiot, and you knew that if he faced his demons again tonight, you would be right there with him.

#ben 10 ultimate alien #ben tennyson #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 #kevin 11 x reader #kevin levin #kevin 11 #kevin levin x reader #gwen tennyson

196 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 3 years

Text

Hey, I would really appreciate if you guys signed this. My dad is disabled and gets very little money from social security. This could help him (and many others like him) a lot!

If you are American, PLEASE SUPPORT THE SSI RESTORATION ACT OF 2021

This new bill has been introduced in both the house and the Senate.

Among other things, it will:

Raise the monthly disability income by just over 30 percent - bringing it to poverty level.

Remove penalties for recieving financial help from friends and family.

Increase the amount of assets a disabled person may have from $2,000 to $10,000 (this hasn't been updated since 1989)

Update outside income restrictions to allow disabled people to receive up to $399 a month without reducing their benefits.

REWARD, not penalize, people who want to receive additional income while on social security income.

REMOVE THE MARRIAGE BAN YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT THIS WILL REMOVE THE MARRIAGE BAN

For those unaware current regulations do a lot to oppress disabled people. In fact marriage equality doesn't even extend to disbled people who risk having their benefits reduced or outright taken away if they marry someone. This means that in common law states disabled people can't even live with their significant other or they risk losing their financial independence.

Current regulations mean that if you're disbled you can't have so much as one penny over $2,000 to your name. So buying a car and gaining more independence or freedom is largely out of the question for disabled people.

Current regulations penalize social security recipients who receive income from outside sources, even if those sources are reimbursement. Did you get paid to babysit for a few hours? That's income, and you get your benefits reduced. Did you loan a friend $10 and they pay you back? The government considers that $10 income, and you get your benefits reduced.

These aren't mere anecdotes - these are all examples of actual things that have happened to disbled people I know, and if you have any disabled friends in your life I'm sure they can tell you the same stories.

If you value marriage equality, if you value financial independence, if you value the rights of disbled people, please PLEASE support this bill! Contact your reps, vote, and make noise! This is a great thing!

78K notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 3 years

Text

more on the murder (likely assassination) of Winston Smith Jr.

highlights:

Winston Smith was killed by federally deputized sheriffs at 2pm on June 3rd, 2021, on a rooftop parking garage after a date (first picture). His date was with him in the car and was treated for shrapnel wounds after the murder.

Law enforcement initially claimed Smith produced a gun, leading them to fire. They then said they found his gun in the glove compartment.

Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension is choosing not to release the names of officers involved.

No officers were wearing body cameras.

Police have been escalating violence at protests for Smith, including the arrest of 2 water protectors from Camp Migizi, a site of resistance against the Line 3 pipeline.

Police used a “spit bag” (plastic mesh bag) over the head of one of the water protectors arrested.

Star Tribune initially reported that Smith was a murder suspect according to sources they won’t name. 5 days later, they rebuked their post and reported that Smith was wanted for illegal possession of firearm.

Community members claim Smith was a revolutionary and that this was an assassination. His social media posts align with this, as he’s quoted saying: “All this protesting shit, Y’all still coming with y’all ‘hands up’ saying y’all surrender. Beggin for y’all freedom. Asking for justice. Is y’all serious? Y’all serious? That’s the plan? … Something wrong with y’all … When Martin Luther King was here, we had a million motherfuckers marching saying ‘let’s be peaceful’ but now y’all still begging for your freedom and they still shooting y’all down.”

GoFundMe for Smith’s funeral expenses and family support

GoFundMe specifically for Smith’s 7th grade daughter

7K notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 3 years

Text

Creep- FFVII Biggs X Reader Ch. 16/?

A/N: Sorry it took six months! Life is wild, y’all.

You stared at the sight in front of you in disbelief, no, denial. Biggs was slumped against the pillar's main column, eyes shut and completely still. You couldn't believe it. Just a moment ago his lips touched yours, and now, just like your lips, his skin was cold to the touch. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening...

"Biggs...?" You whispered, half in disbelief and half in shock. He didn't answer, he didn't move. And even though the sounds of gunshots and screams surrounded you, for one moment, it felt painfully silent. Deep down, you knew what this meant, but you refused to believe it. Your lip began to quiver.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!" You whispered, cupping his face in your hands, "Wake up, please! Wake up!"

"Y/N," Cloud said softly.

You barely even registered his voice over your own desperate attempts to rouse Biggs from his unconscious state. Tears were pouring down your cheeks now, falling onto Biggs' bloodstained shirt and pants as you brought him into tour arms. He meant everything to you, how could this be happening?

"Don't die on me! Please, oh God, just open your eyes!" You shouted, shaking his chest slightly. Still nothing. He was gone.

Finally, the dam burst and you broke down into a sobbing mess, pressing your face into his chest as if looking for his comfort, and yet none came with the gesture. You held onto him tight, unwilling to give him up just yet. He loved you, and you loved him, why did it have to end like this?

"Y/N," Cloud said. You heard him, but didn't acknowledge him.

"Y/N," he said louder, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Shut up!" You snapped. For another moment it was painfully silent. Regret flooded your body, somewhat of a relief from the heartbreaking grief; you didn't mean to make things so tense, "I-I'm sorry... I shouldn't have-"

"It's ok," he interrupted.

Cloud's eyes were glassy too, just barely enough for you to notice, but you did. He had a tight grip on your shoulder, but when you had looked at him he seemed to freeze, no longer confident in handling the situation. He glanced from you, to Biggs, then back to you.

"Get out of here," he said, not in his usual aloof tone, but an awkward, almost compassionate one, "It's what he would've wanted."

You didn't answer at first, instead staring at the man you loved in his pitiful position against the pillar. He, along with the rest of your team, was your everything. And now he was gone and they were still in danger. Staring at the deep crimson puddle growing around his body, you felt the pit in your stomach grow deeper. Every time you thought your heartache had reached its peak, you were proven wrong. You tried to look away, but you couldn't.

"Cloud..." you managed to say.

"Yeah?" He replied, his thumb and fingers digging into your shoulder so tight it almost hurt.

"I don't... I don't know if you can stop the plate from dropping," you looked back up at him "But please... just get Jessie and Barrett out of there."

He held your gaze another moment before nodding. The strong grip on your shoulder fell away as he got up, and he took one last glance at Biggs before heading to the staircase.

Just as he reached the base of the stairs, he looked back at you expectantly.

"Y/N," he warned.

"Let me finish saying goodbye," you ordered, the words fell off your tongue with a tone like venom before you could stop them. He just wanted you to be safe, and you were being an asshole again. You took a deep breath, "I'll leave as soon as I'm done. Promise."

Somehow, you had convinced him. Either that or he had no time to force you off the pillar. Cloud nodded before flying up the flight of stairs and out of sight.

You glanced back at the man you just kissed, It was only a moment ago that your lips met but it felt like eons. And now he was gone... And somehow you were supposed to say goodbye and leave him here to fall with the pillar. Fate was a cruel thing...

Tears were welling up in your eyes again as a shaky breath escaped your lips. You didn't want to leave him, not like this, but you made a promise. A promise to Cloud, and a promise to Biggs himself. And if you wanted to fulfill either of those promises, you'd have to make your goodbye quick.

Leaning forward, you pressed a kiss to his forehead. The surface of his skin was still warm to the touch, and though you knew it wouldn't stay that way, it was comforting in the moment.

A small tear slid down your cheek and onto his as your lips hovered over his face a moment more. Leaning back, you took his hand in your own. It was still warm and wet with blood, but you didn't care. You were soaked in his blood anyways. You brought his hand up to your lips.

"Maybe in another lifetime," you whispered, voice rough from crying. Then you placed a kiss onto the back of his hand. Squeezing your fingers around his own tightly, you prayed for the strength to walk away.

Your heart stopped for a moment when you realized you could feel the slightest pulse from his hand. No, it couldn't be. You must've imagined it. But you hadn't let his hand go and you still felt it, weak but steady. There was no way.

It dawned on you that you had never checked the man's pulse. How could you have not checked his pulse? Within an instant, you had dropped his hand and brought your fingers up to his neck.

You gasped - it wasn't your imagination. He had a pulse. It was weak, but still noticeable. You couldn't believe it. He was alive.

You couldn't leave him. There was no way in hell you were gonna leave him behind. Not after all that the both of you had been through. But that raised an important question: how the hell could you get him down the pillar?

You took a step towards the railing at the edge of the pillar, looking over the side to estimate what floor you were on. Were you really only on floor 5? It felt like you were so much higher. You looked back at Biggs, he groaned and shifted the slightest bit as your mind searched for a way to get him down.

You knew you couldn't carry him if you tried, so the only other option you could think of was to drag him off the pillar. You felt half stupid for even proposing the idea, he was probably still too heavy for it to work, and dragging him down five flights of stairs while he was bleeding out wasn't a great idea, but right now it was the only option. If you didn't, he would surely die. You couldn't just give up and let that happen. You had to try.

You approached his slouched form and grabbed at his shoulders, placing pressure on one of his bullet wounds as you pulled his body into your lap.

Looking at his face, you hesitated. You didn't want to hurt him, and being dragged down the stairs would definitely hurt, but it was that or leave him, and you couldn't do that.

Pressing your fingers to his neck again, you made sure this wasn't a lost cause. His pulse was still there, still steady. Thank God.

Placing your hands under his armpits, you stood up from the ground, lifting his torso. You then realized that in order for this to work, you'd have to walk backwards off the pillar. Great. So, turning around and looking over your shoulder, you began to walk. Biggs, although heavy, wasn't posing a problem for you to drag... yet.

The first flight wasn't too bad, relatively at least. He was heavy and it was a strain, but you managed. His weight was slowly starting to become a problem, though. The longer you dragged him, the harder it seemed to get. But you were down one flight already, there were just four more to go.

Flight two was a challenge, but gravity worked in your favor. Your arms were growing weaker from the weight, and your back and legs ached. Your already slow paced had grown even slower as you dragged his limp body across the metal floor. This was really starting to get difficult, and you weren't even half way done.

You barely made it to the third staircase. Your muscles were screaming for you to stop, and you didn't know if you had the strength left in you to get him down. But you couldn't give up. Giving up meant death, for him and possibly you. So you made it down the staircase.

You were just steps away from the second staircase when your body could not pull him any further. You simply didn't have the strength or leverage to move his weight. You tried, and tried, but your muscles were far too fatigued to move.

Tears pricked at your eyes again as you sat down to take a break. Hopefully you could get some strength back in time before the plate collapsed - if the plate collapsed. Deep down, though, you knew it was inevitably going to happen.

So you were left at a crossroads: keep trying to drag Biggs down the pillar even if it meant the death of both of you, leave him here and get to safety, or stay here with him. You didn't like any of those options.

A tear dropped from your cheek, you didn't know what to do. He meant everything to you, and you felt helpless in that you couldn't help him. No matter what you chose, someone was probably going to die. And your only option with the chance of saving both of you was something you weren't sure you could physically do. People were evacuating now, surely no one was near the pillar, so how far would you have to drag him? All the way out of the sector by yourself? You didn't know, but it was the only way. So, even though you still felt weak, you readied yourself to drag Biggs the rest of the way down.

The sound of footsteps running down the metal stairs made you freeze in place. More Shinra troops? You placed you hand on your holstered gun as you anxiously awaited the sounds to come closer.

"Freeze!" A voice shouted. Suddenly, two helmeted troops pointed their blasters at you.

You whipped out your gun and pointed it at one of the troops, pulling the trigger then moving to aim at the second troop.

Only no bullets came out. You pulled the trigger again and again. Your gun was empty. And you had just tried to shoot two Shinra troops. Fuck.

"Drop the gun!" The commanding troop shouted, and you did what he said. There was nothing else you could do. At least nothing that would ensure both you and Biggs would make it out alive, but the odds of that happening now were close to none. And you'd come so close, too.

"Hands on your head!" The other one shouted, and they both approached. One of the troops kicked the back of your legs, forcing you onto your knees. Two blasters were pointed at your head from each side, so close you could almost feel them.

You looked back at Biggs, he lay still against the cold metal floor. This couldn't be the end, could it? If they captured you, he'd surely die. If they killed you, he'd also die.

There was no way out of this.

"Got a female assailant in custody, what are the orders?" The superior said into comm in his helmet.

You couldn't stop looking at Biggs. The blood puddle under him was slowly growing bigger. He was bleeding out.

The younger troop pushed your head forward with the barrel of his blaster.

"Head down sweetheart, you don't wanna end up like your buddy over there, do ya?" The troop said. You could feel the cold metal of the blaster on the back of your head. The seconds crawled by painfully slow as the Shinra soldiers decided your fate. If they decided to kill you, the gun was already aimed; a single pull of the finger and you'd be gone. Every breath you took, there was that hyper awareness that it could be your last. You didn't want to die.

"Mhm, copy that," the senior officer shook his head as he listened to the orders, then he turned to the other troop, "Take her out."

A whimper slipped from your lips as soon as he spoke, and both of the troops looked down at you.

"Don't worry, It'll be over before you know it," the you get one said, pushing the barrel of the gun into the back of your head. You squeezed your eyes shut.

A gunshot. Then another.

Except you didn't fall. Someone else did. Two someone else's, on either side of you. You opened your eyes, and there were the two troops, dead on the floor.

You turned around quick to see your savior. And there he was, surrounded in a puddle of his own blood. He was putting all of his upper body weight on one elbow, and struggling to do so. Both his hands were wrapped tightly around his pistol to keep them from shaking. Upon meeting eyes with you, he dropped the gun and fell back to the floor with a sigh.

"Biggs!" You shouted, running to his side.

“I-I couldn’t let them,” he wheezed, “I couldn’t let them hurt you.”

His skin, which was adorned with a layer of sweat, had lost much of its color, and under the fluorescent lights of the pillar, it looked even paler.

“Please, just stay awake for me alright?” You pleaded, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it, “I can’t lose you!”

The clanking of footsteps against the metal staircase caused you to whip your head towards the source of the sound. This time it was coming from the lower set of stairs. Somebody- or more like a group of people- were coming up. You grabbed Biggs’ gun from the ground and got ready.

The tops of their heads came into view first. No helmets - you were probably safe. You lowered the gun. Once their faces came into view, you immediately recognized them. They were other members of the neighborhood watch.

"Help!" you shouted.

A few of the men rushed forward to your side, kneeling down by Biggs. Some searched the level for any more survivors-or bodies, and the rest continued up the stairs, guns in hand, presumably ready for a last stand.

Biggs groaned in pain as one of the men observed his wounds. The man shook his head at the sight.

"We can't waste any time, he's got to get to a doctor now!" He said, and the other two men nodded before lifting Biggs up from the ground. The leader stood up to help them carry him down. Once they had a secure hold on him, they made their way towards the stairs.

"Is he gonna be ok?" You asked, trailing behind the group.

"Don't know," the leader said without looking back.

Just as the men were starting down the stairs, another set of footsteps was running up them. Your eyes widened as you watched saw Tifa come into view. She rushed towards your group, she herself frantic as she looked at Biggs' bloodied, unconscious body. The men pushed right past her, though, not wasting any time getting him off the pillar. She watched for a moment as they descended before turning back up to you, taking the final few steps to be at your level.

"Is he gonna be ok?" She asked. You couldn't even answer over the lump in your throat. Instead, your eyes filled with tears again as you shrugged your shoulders. She placed a hand on your arm.

"Don't lose hope," she tried to reassure, but it was unconvincing, "I'm going to go help the others."

She pivoted away from you, but you caught her wrist in time. She threw her head over her shoulder to look back at you, her gaze both soft and frantic.

"Please... Please come back down. I don't think this pillar's gonna last very much longer," you said.

"I will. I promise." She said, and then she ran towards the next flight of steps.

You rushed down the last flight of stairs, trying to catch up with the neighborhood watch boys. They were a little ways ahead of you, around halfway to the tunnel to sector 6. You ran toward them, and once you caught up to them you slowed to their pace as you walked next to them. Biggs hadn't moved in a while, which was beginning to scare you.

Sector 5 was a long way away, you remembered. And unfortunately the closest doctors were in that sector. Would Biggs last until then? You wanted to believe he would, you wanted to believe he would be ok so badly, but the odds weren't in your favor.

His arm was limp, hanging from his side, and without a second thought, you grabbed his hand and squeezed it. There was a terrifyingly long walk ahead of you, so you squeezed his hand tighter and prayed to any higher power that would listen. He has to make it, you thought, he just has to.

#biggs #ff7 biggs #ffvii #final fantasy #FF7 #ffviir #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #biggs x reader

43 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 3 years

Text

I don’t know a single thing about this Sonon guy from the FFVII DLC but I do know that as soon as it drops I’m writing for him too.

I am looking respectfully 👀

#I know I still have to finish my series #and write a million other one shots i promised #and 5 other series i promised #but I'll make time for this king #sonon kusakabe #ffvii remake

8 notes · View notes

holdin-out-for-a-hero · 3 years

Text

Kevin Levin dating HC’s

A/N: To those of you waiting for Creep Ch.16 and the finale, its coming along. Anyways, I’ve had a huge crush on Kevin Levin from Ben 10 and there are zero fanfics for him, so I had to take matters into my own hands. He’s got some one-shots coming along too.

So Gwen and Kevin didn't work out, but they still have so much love for each other and are practically inseparable. There is no bad blood between them, they just weren't meant to be. Dating Kevin means being fine with him and his ex being platonic soulmates.

It also means you're part of the team so you and Gwen are super tight too. You were there to witness the rise and fall of Gwevin and even though you had a crush on him, you ignored it and instead chose to be happy for your friends.

But of course Gwevin didn't last. After many months of avoiding your feelings with him, Gwen confronted you about it. You thought she'd be angry, but she wasn't. She even gave you her blessing and encouraged you to pursue him. At first you thought she was just being nice, but as time went on and you and Kevin got a little closer, you realized she was serious. That gave you the courage to make a move.

When you did make a move, he was actually receptive to it. You half thought he'd get angry because "the man has to make the first move." But apparently, Gwen had fixed some of his sexist ideals while they were dating. You'd have to thank her for that.

He's very protective during battles, always placing himself in front of you if you're in a pinch. If you get hurt, or are in danger, he's by your side in an instant. But don't think he underestimates you. He definitely doesn't, especially after all the times you've saved his butt.

When you are on dates (with or without Ben and Gwen) he's prone to do stupid things to make you laugh. Such as: sticking chopsticks up his nose, seeing how many marshmellows he can fit into his mouth... as well as some more dangerous, and even more stupid things. He'd really do anything to see you laugh.

"Hey Y/N, you think I can catch a seagull?"

Thank God for his powers or else this boy would be dead for sure.

Car rides with alone with Kevin usually includes listening to some classic rock on the radio. He knows all the classics and swears up and down that music hasn't been the same since the 80's.

If you know those songs too, he's totally down for a jam session in the car (Just don't tell anybody! you can't ruin his cool guy exterior.)

About those jam sessions... poor boy can't sing. Like, at all. Lets hope you can handle listening to his off-key singing, because that's all he knows how to do.

Another thing about this relationship- your dates usually include Ben and Gwen. There aren't very many times that they don't end up tagging along, but when you two are alone, you see a different side of him. Deep down, he's a really sensitive dude. It took a long time for him to open up to you like that, and he still puts up a façade sometimes.

He never really talks about his feelings but you can tell when he's upset. He either gets angry or really quiet, that's when you know.

Sometimes he just needs space. Other times playing with his hair while he rests his head in your lap coaxes him to talk. So do shoulder rubs and kisses all over the face.

He's big on keeping his bad-ass exterior, so only you know how needy he can sometimes be. It took a long time for him to feel comfortable voicing that he wants attention, but once he did, there was no going back.

He can really catch on to when you're in upset... sometimes. It astonishes you how he can be so intuitive to your feelings sometimes and oblivious the next. So sometimes he's pulling you into a hug and asking you what's wrong before you even realize something's wrong, and other times he's a little oblivious and you have to let him know you're upset. Either way, he knows just how to make you feel better. He listens to your problems, gets you food, and cuddles with you.

When you're studying, he likes to take naps on your bed. The snoring may impede your studying, which usually makes you give up and join him for a nap. He's always happy about that.

Same thing happens when he's working on his car. You nap or work on the couch in his garage and when he's done he joins you. Since the couch is so small and he's so big you usually end up laying on his chest but you don't mind and neither does he.

He's the big spoon 90% of the time because he wants to feel like the protector. Sometimes, though, he feels vulnerable and he needs to feel safe himself, so he throws hints that he wants to be the little spoon. He'd never openly ask for it, and you'd better not tell anybody about it.

The backseat of his can would definitely be the home of most of your make out sessions, but it would also be where you talk about life and everything and nothing. Just like the hood and the top of his car. The both of you would lay there and watch the stars and just enjoy eachother's presence.

Dating Kevin Levin would be full of adventures, danger, dumb jokes, and awful sing-alongs but it would be still so, so worth it.

#kevin levin x reader #kevin levin #ben 10 #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 alien force #gwen tennyson #ben tennyson #kevin 11 x reader

235 notes · View notes