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#[ even in situations where one of them gets hurt from their own stupidity or something
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Hey, sorry to trouble you. Unsure of your time zone so i hope this is sent at a good time! (Sorry if it isn't!)
Could you maybe do something with Vox and a Reader who saves him from a surprise attack via a Sinner or Angel?
Kinda the Reader just like 'Oh sorry i got blood on you. Glad you're okay.' With Vox unsure if he wants this person under contact or to kiss them. Or do whatever go nuts!
(I have no idea what timezone I’m in tbh, I’m too lazy to check. As I’m posting this it is 10:50 AM where I live, if that helps anyone. No worries, though! I love answering all your asks and writing out posts based on your requests!)
“Walking downtown, avoiding the paparazzi…” Vox muttered to himself. He’d really done it this time. He was trying to avoid being out of the Vee tower for too long, but he’d taken a detour with almost no Voxtek cameras. Now he couldn’t teleport. It made him uneasy. “God fucking damnit…”
“Stop right there, bitch,” a sinner demon said, pointing a gun at him. Vox froze, but not out of fear. He was surprised first, that a sinner demon would try to hurt an Overlord. This one must be new, or arrogant. But as he looked at the gun, he couldn’t help the tidal wave of emotions that over came him, all memories of compromising situations- similar situations- he’d been in when he was alive. “That’s right, now… put your hands where I can see them.”
Vox absentmindedly complied, still partially reliving every single time he’d had a gun pointed at him before. Every wound he’d received, every bullet he’d had to fish out of his own flesh.
“Good, now-”
The sinner demon was cut off brutally. With an axe. To its neck. Its head came off with ease and you stood behind it, looking surprised. Vox’s eyes widened. Now he was vaguely afraid.
“Oh. I didn’t expect it to be so… fragile,” you said, nudging the corpse of the demon lightly. “Huh. Well, in any case…” you looked up to Vox, an apologetic look on your face. “Sorry about that. Did I get any blood on your suit? I can cover the expenses.”
“I… uh,” Vox was speechless. He’d just frozen up in front of a lowlife sinner demon and had been saved by another, who was now apologizing to him. What the fuck. Something had to be wrong with him, especially with these weird feelings he had in his chest. Felt all fluttery and stupid like butterflies. “My suit is fine. I narrowly avoided the splash zone, I think. Thank you for your offer.”
“Of course! Not a problem,” you said with a smile. Vox noticed you hadn’t stepped any closer to him, you’d kept your distance. But you’d put your axe away. You knew who he was and how dangerous he was, how defenseless you were in comparison, but you were still talking to him. Did you feel superior to him just because you’d saved him? No, that couldn’t be it… you seemed so… genuine. “Seedy part of town for a business man like yourself to be in. I’m guessing the paparazzi were a nightmare today?”
“Oh absolutely,” Vox said with a grin. He was quickly regaining his confident demeanor. “It was absolute torture at that interview! Ah, but don’t tell anyone I said that. It wouldn’t be good for my image. I’m sure you can keep a secret,” he said, linking his arm in yours and walking with you. This was a test.
“Definitely,” you said, with a small laugh. “It’d be far more embarrassing for me, anyway. I mean, the fact I interrupted your walk through town? With murder, no less! That was quite rude of me.” You smiled, carefree and lighthearted as he walked you away. You didn’t even know where he was taking you, but you were still so upbeat. “No worries. If you don’t tell anyone about that little incident back there, I won’t say a word about your occasional distaste for public attention.”
“Wonderful! Sounds like a deal, then,” Vox said, looking down at you. He was pleased with how this whole thing had gone. You hadn’t even seen him as weak for freezing up in front of that other sinner demon! You probably thought he was annoyed or planning to kill the demon himself. His image was safe, you didn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how vulnerable he’d been in the moment back there. “Say, how about we make another, more official deal? Something with some actual benefits.”
“Really?” You asked, looking surprised. “I mean, I don’t have much to offer. We only just met and-”
“And you’ve piqued my interest, dear,” he said with a smile. He held your arm tighter, more protectively. Whether you agreed to anything or not, he’d be keeping you around. “I have a feeling we’ll get to know each other very well.”
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pirateborn-a · 1 year
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     Trying to think if there’s anything that could genuinely get Roger upset or angry at any of his boys, and honestly yeah nope there’s     there’s really not   
#[ ooc ] ✧〖 bid farewell to weaver’s town 〗#[ i have talked ab this SO much but you'll hear it again---- dhjsdjklsd#[ just#[ unconditional love man#[ those are his Boys!#[ even in situations where one of them gets hurt from their own stupidity or something#[ roger's a selfish man    he'll take full blame himself#[ he's their captain    he's responsible for them      whatever negative thing they do is because of him#[ roger will forcefully yoink the blame from their grips and claim it for himself and refuse to budge on it#[ i'd imagine rayleigh or gaban or someone else usually having to take role of actually Teaching the kids lessons because roger just#[ doesnt know how to do that fdjdskl#[ and he recognizes it and he does try and he is thankful that others do what he cant but he Knows he could never blame them for anything#[ sure he'll get playfully all >:ccc!! @ the kids for fun but honestly just in general roger Doesnt get genuinely pissed often#[ nearly never @ crew at least    only to those outside who mess with his crew or loved ones#[ love isnt so much as blinding as roger fully seeing and being aware of fucked up stuff but deciding its not as important as his boys#[ not approving      but accepting       'i see you i see what you've done and it hurts me so much to see but i see it and i accept it#and i still love you      can we go home now? i'll hold your hands and wipe the blood from them with ginger touch'#[ again!! selfish man!!!#[ like   even with extreme cases like say one of them somehow ends up killing rayleigh     roger's. Utterly inconsolable and heartbroken#[ but he's still just ruffle their head before going to hide in a corner and cry---#[ i am just#[ shakes fist#[ unconditional love </3#[ does apply to most people he loves   but its just taken to an extreme with his boys#[ sighs#[ can you tell its half past 4am fdsdskl
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 26
Robins look of utter rage fills Danny with adrenaline as he puts the petal to the metal to escape the stabby birds vengeance.
Danny wasn't too worried, after all the car he stole was the Batmobile and he was pretty sure Boy Wonder couldn't hurt the car without being grounded or something.
Whatever. He didn't really even plan to keep the car anyway.
He just needed a way to get them to Amity. Sam and a few other kids had gone missing after she lead a protest against the GIW over the anyi-ecto acts and thier treatment of ghosts and Tucker disappeared a few days later after he got back hacked while trying to find where they took her.
Danny wasn't stupid enough to go in as either Fenton or Ancients forbid, Phantom so he needed help. Unfortunately his track record for asking for help usually ended with him being talked over, talked down to, ridiculed, ignored, ect. So naturally he had to take things into his own hands as usual.
Thus stealing the Batmobile and doing the metaphorical equivalent or hitting a bat flavored hornets nest with a stick and hoping he doesn't die the rest of the way.
He is from the Midwest and this situation was awkward enough to activate his hospitality instincts so he offers to take music requests over the com lines (much to Red Robins bafflement). They of course have noticed a lack of Oracles involvement by this point and Danny informs them of his heavily modified Amazon fire stick and that he used it to not only knock Oracle out of the game -mostly to keep her from hacking into the batmobile and giving him a one way ticket to juvie- but also give him what was pretty much an hologram version of an instruction booklet for the fancy car hes driving.
Yeah, he doesn't know any of the bypass or security codes, but now he doesn't have to wonder that all the buttons do...and if they'll eject him.
Eventually they make it out of Gotham, the bats are miffed and tired. The sun is coming up and the fuzzy fighters break off to return to thier city.
They're likely going to use the trackers in the vehicle to find it once Danny parks so they don't end up chasing him all over the continent.
Good. All according to plan.
Except he waits a day after returning to Amity and hiding the car.
Then two.
Then four pass by without so much as a wing beat.
After five days Danny decides he can't wait anymore and goes back to Gotham to steal more bat themed items. That jet looked rather nice...
In the meantime the bats are flummoxed as to why they can't find this kid
Turns out large amounts of ecto radiation renders most tracking useless. Who knew?
Eventually Danny has a whole collection of expensive bat things and he, on the verge of a breakdown, drives back to Gotham in the GAV (bear in mind hes 14 and has no license throughout all of this) uses the GAV to kidnap Bruce Wayne. He apologizes profusely but explains the situation and that he really needs Batmans help but he seems to be refusing to get involved. So naturally he has to kidnap his sugar daddy to force his hand.
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sarahghetti · 3 months
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blood on your lies; m.s.
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pairing: marc spector x reader centric, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader
summary: after an argument with marc, you go missing. he tears himself apart trying to find you.
warnings: a dive into the mind of marc spector, angst, hurt with some comfort (i.e. jake and steven), kidnapping, vague descriptions of violence.
word count: 3.0k
notes: kind of a continuation of all the echoes in my mind, but can be read as a standalone. written as part of the @moonknight-events bingo! prompt: "insecure", I promise that not all my entries will be this sad lol
MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS
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You’re not home yet.
It’s nearly been three hours. Marc paces the apartment like a caged animal, likely wearing the hardwood underneath his feet. Steven and Jake have run their course about how stupid he is, how he shouldn’t have said what he said, how he should’ve run after you the second you stepped out the door—
But jokes on them. There can be no harsher critic of Marc than Marc himself.
He checks his phone again in case you’ve responded to his many texts and calls, but there’s nothing. As far as he knows, you haven’t even seen any of it.
His temper still lingers under their skin, and he holds it tight with both hands; anger is easy. It’s easier than admitting that the peaks in his heartrate and the sweat on his brow is from anything other than his own self-flagellation.
Anger is familiar.
This, however? The waiting for you to walk through the door, or to give them any sign of life—so much of his sanity rests in the comfort of you being safe. Marc didn’t realize how lucky he was to not know what this was like. Now, he doesn’t know if he can ever forget it.
Jake’s voice is clipped. “Check again.”
They’re all on edge, and it’s terrible. Most of the time, at least one of them manages to keep a level head during stressful situations—usually Marc. Jake is prone to anger, Steven to anxiousness.
“Marc!” Steven yanks him out of his head, and his phone is in his hand without any memory of having taken it out of his pocket. He does a dutiful look through his notifications—nothing.
Three sets of disappointment and concern pile on top of one another and drags them all down so much further.
“Do…” Steven’s voice is quiet. Unsure. “Do you think something might’ve happened to her?”
There is no dissenting opinion, no devil’s advocate. Marc doesn’t try to calm his alters down, and only clenches his jaw.
You’ve never gone quiet on them like this. They’ve never let you leave the flat at night like this. They always opted to be the one to go take a walk because even in the middle of an argument, they wouldn’t risk your safety.
The lingering silence is Steven’s answer.
When the suit wraps itself around his body, the accompanying burst of power in his veins is suffocating. His wounds begin to numb over, but Marc barely notices. He hasn’t spared them a thought since you left.
The cool air does nothing to assuage him. Clouds blot out the sky, leaving nothing but a murky backdrop as he scales up the nearest building for a vantage point. A quick scan over the horizon—nothing. Not a hint of your silhouette under the streetlights, and a lump forms in his throat.
“Khonshu!”
A gust of wind signals the god’s arrival, who, even with a bird’s skull for a head, looks remarkably bored as Marc is clinging to any semblance of sanity. He must already know what’s going on but frustratingly just spreads out his hands, a silent question—what?
Marc grits his teeth. “Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Khonshu.” The name is a snarl on his lips.
He simply scoffs. “You have the gall to make demands? As if I need to be involved with your lover’s spat?”
“She’s not answering her phone.”
A lingering pause.
“She might be in danger,” Marc snaps, trying to get the god to understand even a fraction of the severity of the situation. They might bloody their hands night after night, staining London’s streets each time they go out on patrol, but it’s never enough. There are always more monsters to take their place, and the thought that you might have run into one of them—
Khonshu cocks his head. “Maybe she’s just finally had enough of you.”
Marc hates how that’s a possibility. Still, desperation crawls out of his throat. “Can you find her?”
Khonshu turns to look over the city, the silence stretching out between them. Whatever divinity he’s channeling, Marc isn’t privy to; all he can do is stand there like a useless dumbass and wait for some hint of you to show up on the god’s radar. Even if you had had enough and never want to see him again—he’ll swallow down that fate in stride as long as he knows that you’re safe.
When Khonshu finally breaks from searching, his head cocks slightly to the side. “Interesting.”
This is hardly the time for theatrics. “Do not—”
“I cannot find her,” the god admits. Not apologetic or ashamed, but—awed. “Where she is right now, her footsteps through the city—there is nothing, Marc Spector. There’s not even a trace of her in your own home.”
The blood rushes in his ears. His chest constricts until he can barely breathe at all. Marc barely manages to wrap his head around the information before Jake and Steven come roaring back again, shocked and confused.
“Stupid fucking bird—”
“She was right here!
“Let me out, pendejo, I swear—”
“What the bloody hell does he mean—”
“How?” Is all Marc manages to get out, every one of his senses on overload.
“Something is hiding her from me; whatever took your lover is very powerful indeed.”
Took. Not a single doubt about it now: something took you. Kidnapped you because Marc couldn’t keep it together for ten-fucking-minutes. Jake and Steven can prattle all they want in the background—his mission is clear.
“Where do we start?”
-
The flat seems even bleaker when they return, your absence all the more chilling. Steven clamours to take the reins with the obvious assumption that research is the first step they need to take, but that’s quickly dashed away when Khonshu returns with a name.
“Apep.” God of darkness and disorder, Steven supplies from their head. “He’s been cast away for eons, but there have always been those trying to get him to return.”
“It’s another cult?”
Jake swears under his breath. “Figures.”
Ignoring them, Marc presses on. “Who are we dealing with now?”
“If it were easy to find them, I would’ve done it already,” Khonshu bristles. “Apep is helping them—hiding them as they work. I will continue to do what I can.”
“Fine.”
The god disappears in a whirlwind of loose papers, and Marc switches gears. Steven might have the advantage in research, but tracking? The skills he’s honed as a Marine and as a mercenary wait for him like an old pair of shoes; the others can’t help but let him work in peace.
He finds some old tourist map that spans over the city and unfolds it across the dining table. There are only so many places you would’ve gone, so many routes you could’ve taken. London doesn’t become deserted at night and barring any divine intervention, kidnapping someone would cause a scene—you would have caused a scene, he thinks, imagining you fighting tooth and nail against your assailants, screaming for someone to help—
Marc closes his eyes, clenches his jaw. A wave of pain washes over him, and he languishes in it for a minute, not a moment more.
His eyes reopen, spots dancing across his vision as he analyzes the map again. The feeling has been sealed shut into a box, shoved into a corner of his mind. Steve would throw a fit about his mental state if it were any other time, lecturing him on coping mechanisms and compartmentalization, but there’s no time for him to feel sorry for himself.
He grits his teeth and refocuses his train of thought. If they’re up against a cult, then they probably would’ve sent multiple people to grab you. Would’ve had to lure you somewhere quiet if it was by force, or they could have convinced you to go with them somehow. Or threatened you. Or…
The more he gets into it, the more he feels himself detaching from the situation, piece-by-piece. The memory of you is like a minefield; it’s a testament to his will that he can recall anything about you without breaking down. What you were wearing—and not the look on your face—when you left. Your favourite park—and not how your hand fits perfectly into his as you walked down the paths—that you might have passed through.
He reduces you to intel, just another folder on his desk. It’s not unfamiliar to him. He wouldn’t have made it this far if he couldn’t take an objective approach to his work. But it’s different because it’s you, because the stakes include you, and when he looks up to try to ground himself again, he spots your favourite mug on the coffee table. Half-empty.
-
If Layla were here.
The words bounce around his head as Marc stares up at the ceiling. He didn’t mean it. Steven and Jake are both better with words than Marc, but he’s never loved you any less—he’s never wanted you to be anyone but yourself.
It’s been almost two days since you left, and it’s only now that he’s allowed himself to be corralled into bed. His grip of the hot seat is ironclad, however, which means that the body isn’t getting any sleep tonight. The sun will rise soon, and he’ll pick up his work right where he left off.
Quietly, from the back of his head: “Marc?”
“Could’ve taken the victim anywhere,” Marc murmurs, mind still whirring in the dark.
“’Victim’?” Steven’s voice shifts to be full of indignance. “How could you possibly call her that?”
“Ay, easy on him,” Jake pipes up. For Jake to immediately to jump to his defence means that Marc must be worse off than he thought, but he can’t bring himself to care. “How’s it going, hombre?”
“No sightings on any security cameras. Nothing reported to the cops.” Hours of his time—your time—summarized in a breath. His face remains blank. “I’m going to sweep the remaining areas tomorrow. Find some people who might’ve seen something.”
He’s been doing nothing but cross possibilities off his list. It’s barely any progress and his remaining leads are weak, but his resolve is as strong as ever.
“Nothing from Khonshu?”
“No.” Marc has no idea what the god is doing.
They lay in silence for a bit, listening to the maddening tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall. Anger is unsustainable, but Marc wishes that they’d return to yelling at him again. At least he knows what to do with that.
Instead, all he gets is Steven’s restrained tone: “Something has to change, you know.”
“Are you really telling me to go to therapy right now?”
“Can’t do much else.” For a moment, Steven’s bitterness resonates. There’s another conversation to be had here—one about their individual capabilities and protective natures—but Marc lets it rest for the night. He knows he’d be driven up the wall if their situation was reversed, if you were in danger and he had to rely on someone else to save you.
He still deflects. “Not the time for this.”
“Maybe not,” Steven concedes, “but you need help, Marc.”
Distantly, Marc recognizes that he’s always needed help. Even after reconciling with Steven and Jake, even after meeting you—the wounds are still there, despite how hard he’s tried to ignore them. He’s stubborn and self-destructive, not stupid.
“We’re with you, always,” Jake adds. Discomfort crawls under Marc’s skin from the supportive words, and he knows that his alters are well aware of it. It’s never stopped them, of course.
“We can talk about this after—after we save her.”
A general murmur of consensus. Marc quickly regains his footing, eager to move on from this line of conversation.
“I’ll find something. Or Khonshu will.” Steady and reassured—trying to convince them and himself. “We’ll get her back.”
Steven’s voice is small, even in the confines of their head. “But why would they take her in the first place?”
-
“He needs an avatar?” The body hasn’t slept in days. That void of feeling pulses with anger, desperation, fear—it simmers low in their gut, a torch passed along between them.
“Apep will need a vessel once they release him.”
“Here I thought one of his cultists would volunteer.”
Khonshu taps his staff against the ground thoughtfully. “They knew we would come after them, and we’re not the only ones.”
For the briefest of moments, Marc feels hopeful, like the odds aren’t as stacked against them as they thought. It disappears just as fast—Khonshu doesn’t deliver hope. The blood drains out of his face as he actually starts to consider the god’s words.
“If Apep possesses your precious lover, would you really be able to stop her? To take up arms against her?”
Khonshu leans in close then, hollowed eyes burrowing into him.
“Would you let others do the same?”
-
Over the next week, things begin to look up.
Someone’s girlfriend’s cousin says that they saw someone who looked like you walking down The Mall. There’s a fuzzy image of a car with no license plates. Khonshu catches the briefest hint of you on Westminster Bridge and follows you far, far east—it’s a mere grain of information that’s slipped through Apep’s power, but it’s enough for Marc.
They find the car abandoned in Dover, near the water. It rules out France—driving through the Eurochannel would’ve been the fastest route there, after all. Trying to take a public ferry would’ve been stupid with a captive, which means that they probably chartered or owned a boat.
The remaining pieces fall into place, and he can feel the anticipation from the others build in the background. Marc has led the charge so far with very few breaks to let Steven and Jake breathe a little. Steven misses you so much, he cries whenever he fronts. Jake has gone eerily quiet, and Marc knows what’s simmering underneath the surface; when the fighting starts, Jake will be called to action. His excitement is brutal.
It's all coming to an end soon. Laying on some dirt in the Norwegian countryside, shrouded in darkness, Marc’s never seen more stars in his life. If he’s right—and he is right—they’ll be bringing you to a nearby compound for the final step of their ritual. He couldn’t care less about the how or why. Come the morning, you’ll be here. Marc will get them inside. Jake will get to you. And then…
Marc will probably never be the partner that you deserve, and you never should’ve been subjected to his life. To sleepless nights and patching up his injuries and comforting him after nightmares that has him thrashing in the sheets—
But he can’t survive without you. It’s a simple little fact that gives him the power to move mountains; there are none bigger than the mess of his own head.
Exhaustion creeps up on him, and he can’t help but struggle against it. Fighting to keep his eyes open, his thoughts spill into the air. “Need to take care of her first.”
“Taking care of yourself is taking care of her,” Steven says gently. Have they had this conversation already? Marc’s been so singled in on this mission that everything else has fallen by the wayside. He can’t remember the last thing he ate, or what he’s wearing under the suit. The ground is the softest thing he’s ever felt.
If there’s any comparison to be made between you and Layla, it’s that he’s failed both of you. Maybe he could be different this time. Even if you decide that you want nothing to do with him after all this, he could still get help. He’ll have Steven and Jake. He’ll have himself and his scrappy resolve and the memories of this heart-aching pain, and maybe he’ll finally get better.
Marc lets his eyes close; the body needs rest for what’s to come. You don’t deserve any less than their best.
Just a few more hours.
-
Marc watches the fight from their headspace. Jake doesn’t miss a single shot and never so much as falters when one of them manages to land a hit. This is the longest break Marc’s gotten from fronting in a while, but he can’t bring himself to look away.
Jake loops their arm around the neck of cultist unlucky enough to be nearby, gripping his hair so hard Marc can nearly feel the strands through his fingers, feel it when Jake jerks their arm to the side and twists—
-
Your handlers left you alone in another room with nothing but a hard cot to curl into as you waited for them to retrieve you again. Locked inside but unbound—Marc hates how you startle when he breaks through the door.
Eyes wide, your mouth opens and closes multiple times without success. “You—you came.”
Marc wishes there weren’t so much surprise in your tone. Of course he came for you, it was never a choice for him—for any of them.
But clearly there was a part of you that thought he wouldn’t, wasn’t there? That he might just leave you in the clutches of some power-hungry cult because—because what, you’re not his ex-wife? Because you think he doesn’t love you?
The need to rectify that pierces his heart. He pulls you close, knuckles white in your shirt. “I love you.”
You shake in his arms. “Marc—”
“I love you.”
The words don’t stop; they fall from his lips like a prayer. Even as you weep, soaking the suit with your tears, he says it. I love you. I love you. I love you. In every variation, in every way—he’ll never let you believe otherwise again. He’ll say it over and over, work tirelessly to become the man you both deserve. For the rest of your lives. For the rest of time.
However long you’ll give him.
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misscrawfords · 4 months
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I was listening to Pride and Prejudice on my drive back from my mother's today and it's been so long since I've actually read the novel as opposed to engaged with one or other adaptation...
Goodness, it's good, isn't it? And Elizabeth is so much more complex a character than she is often presented in adaptations.
The thing that was standing out to me today - I was listening to from when Mr. Collins proposes to Charlotte and I stopped just when Elizabeth was talking to Colonel Fitzwilliam at Rosings - was the chapter which is just Jane and Elizabeth talking about Bingley. This gets cut from adaptations or so condensed to be meaningless, but it's incredible. It's just a whole chapter of the sisters chewing over why Bingley ghosted Jane (for lack of a better term) and what Caroline's motivations were and the thing that gets me is that they're both right. Jane is right that Bingley can't be blamed for being a friendly young man and that he had no malicious intentions but Elizabeth is also right that young men can be thoughtless in their dealings with women who have less freedom than them and their thoughtlessness can do real hurt. (She's also right about Caroline, of course.) It struck me as such a modern issue. Maybe I've just been thinking about the unwitting hurt that thoughtless young men can cause recently, but everything is so complicated. Bingley is a flake who makes a mistake with regards to Jane but he's also a genuinely lovely young man who makes it right in the end - he's still on his own journey through life which he will continue with Jane. Jane herself lets her desire to see the best in others cause her to see friendship where it isn't, but being deceived in a friend is not so uncommon, is it? And she's not stupid or weak. Heck, she endures her heartbreak being talked about openly by her mother in public for months silently and without rancour. And she does it all without ever resenting Bingley! Jane's the strongest character in the whole novel and an inspiration to the rest of us - FIGHT ME on this!
The other thing I really picked up on was what an important moment in Elizabeth's character development Charlotte's engagement is. It actually kind of breaks my heart - her best friend makes a life choice that she can't support but has to and nothing will ever be the same again between them. It's the first dent into Elizabeth's world view that forces her to see that people are different from her and can make different decisions and this is okay and not just something she can laugh at. It's so relatable in terms of life events - when a close friend marries and then when they have a baby, these things absolutely still do alter friendships. Elizabeth gets over it and even enjoys seeing Charlotte in Hunsford but we are frequently reminded by the narrator that the previous confidences they enjoyed will never be the same again. It's a really big moment for Elizabeth and really the first event in the novel to start to shake her foundations of her comfortable existence. The other two are Bingley's desertion of Jane and Wickham's decision to pursue Mary King over her. By the time she goes to Hunsford, she is prepared in a way for the final massive shock to the foundations of The World According to Lizzy Bennet, not that she knows it. Such is growing up.
And OMG Lady Catherine is SO vulgar and inappropriate! She is a direct parallel to Mrs. Bennet and the rest of the Bennets. Just as Elizabeth feels accute embarrassment at the Netherfield Ball, Mr. Darcy is feeling exactly the same at Rosings. Beautifully done. But their awareness of what is appropriate behaviour is something that unifies Darcy and Elizabeth even if Darcy massively fails to behave like a human around Elizabeth. Pride and Prejudice is such an expose and examination of "how to behave in social situations". There is nobody who doesn't come under scrutiny and pretty much every type of behaviour is gone over with a fine tooth comb.
Sometimes I feel almost ashamed when people ask me what my favourite novel is and I say "Pride and Prejudice" because it's such a damn cliche. I should say something heavier or more obscure or at least I should say it's Persuasion, the "thinking girl"'s favourite Austen. But P&P is so special to me on so many levels and you know what? It is a MASTERFULLY written book.
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i absolutely love the prompt you have "I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night" cause major swiftie and I will only read that like she says it in stay stay stay so can you pretty please to conrad x reader with that prompt when you get the chance tysm take ur time
Silly little one I forgot I started writing a week ago
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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The best relationship advice your mother ever gave to you was that you should never leave a fight unresolved or go to bed mad at each other. You and Conrad had been pretty good at doing that…until last night. 
To be fair, the whole situation had everyone on edge. 
After his exam, you and Conrad emptied his dorm and hit the road. He had slept less than five hours last night so you kindly offered to drive while he caught up on sleep. Everything was going well, until you accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up in a totally different place. You tried to get back on the right road, but panicked when you couldn’t figure a way…then Conrad woke up, grumpy and still tired, and started criticizing your driving skills.
To add to the situation, rain and thunder decided to join you. A little rain and thunder didn’t scare Conrad, but they decided to close the highway, forcing the two of you to stay at a motel for the night. 
You showered and changed out of your wet clothes, while Conrad did his own thing. When you came out, he was there, in his pajamas, taking out extra blankets from the closet and setting them on the floor. 
Getting what he was doing, you stopped him. ‘’You’re not sleeping on the floor. Don’t be ridiculous.’’ 
You had a fight, but you weren’t that mad at him. He just struck a nerve. 
Conrad's tired eyes met yours, but he didn’t say anything as he moved his pillow to the bed. He drew back the covers and laid down, his back turned to you. 
A knot formed in your stomach, hurt, and you turned off the lamp, plunging the room in the dark without exchanges of ‘goodnight’s. Rare were the occasions where you and Conrad were sharing a bed and alone, but instead of taking advantage of it, you were caught in an uncomfortable silence where neither of you found sleep. 
You tried to close your eyes, but couldn’t. So you listened to the loud rumbles of thunder and the tapping of the rain until your eyes couldn’t stay open. 
Just as you were about to fall asleep, Conrad spoke. 
‘’What I said earlier, I didn’t mean it,’’ he said in the quiet of the room, knowing you weren’t asleep either. ‘’I’m sorry. You’re not the worse driver I know.’’
A tired smile twisted on your lips...and you felt yourself drifting to sleep. 
When you woke up, the morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the motel room. The rain from last night had finally subsided, meaning you’ll be able to get back on the road and go home. 
Beside you, Conrad was still sleeping. You watched him for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. It might sound dumb, but you missed him. 
You heard a muffled groan, getting excited as Conrad slowly stirred. His eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the daylight coming from the window, and you chuckled. You didn’t think of drawing the curtains all the way last night. 
‘’Morning,’’ you greeted with a soft smile, brushing hair from his face. 
"I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night," he said, his voice a little deeper from sleep. 
You rolled your eyes. ‘’You’re exaggerating.’’ 
Conrad sighed, looking up at the stucco ceiling. ‘’We had this big fight over something so stupid—’’ 
‘’Real relationships are not perfect, Con. Even the ones who seem perfect aren’t. They fight with their partners and that’s totally normal. We’re not gonna break up because I didn’t pay enough attention and took a wrong turn. That’s ridiculous.’’ 
There was a silent pause, then Conrad laughed.
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marie-mcd · 2 months
Text
Amongst the Aziraphale appreciation posts I see, there's a big thing that I think is often missed and deserves pointing out!
(I'm not sure if this is an unpopular opinion or if it's something so obvious that it goes without saying, and thus hasn't been said; so I am either throwing myself to the wolves here or to the crickets. Here I go!)
In short, I think sheltering Gabriel in S2E1 was undeniably the right thing to do, and I admire Aziraphale for it. The ensuing fight with Crowley might distract some people from seeing this.
Initially it was a snap decision whose rationale was probably along the lines of "Ohshit, this is insane, everyone is staring, this situation has to stop right now, just get in and I'll get rid of you later."
But then it becomes clear to Aziraphale that Gabriel is a person who needs help. This is a special situation in which his antagonist is currently helpless. If he turns Gabriel away, it's only a matter of time before the other angels find him (granted, Azi doesn't have all the information yet here, but it's not a huge leap for him to suspect heaven being part of the threat), and in the meantime he could be hurt or even be discorporated by humans or by accident, and presumably end up back in heaven where Something Terrible awaits.
To articulate what I think the thought process might be in this situation, I'll borrow a quote from Miss Level from A Hat Full of Sky: "You can't not help people just because they're stupid or forgetful or unpleasant. Everyone's poor round here. If I don't help them, who will?" He's able to set aside his feelings and risk his own comfort and possibly his safety to help someone clearly in need, despite their past. The reason this is admirable is because this is difficult to do.
I understand why Aziraphale was upset with Crowley (and acted a bit pissy) during their blow-up. Not only is it not unreasonable to be upset about being bailed on in a high stress situation, it's also disappointing that Crowley's proposed solution was to dump Gabriel somewhere to fend for himself - Aziraphale knows and we know that Crowley is usually kind and moral, not to mention rational (and we even see him being kind to Jim/Gabriel later). It's also worth noting that Aziraphale never implies that he thinks Crowley is a bad person for not helping; he asks for help, is upset to not get it, and suggests Crowley leaves because they're obviously at an impasse.
I see Crowley's side too, because it's also not unreasonable to get upset when your partner springs an unexpected stressful situation on you, and it was wise to leave when it was clear that they were both too emotional to work on a proper solution.
We all want to enjoy our precious, fragile existence on earth and not have to deal with curveballs, but I see this problem as the "worse" part of "for better or for worse". I might have seen things differently if Aziraphale was sheltering someone like Hastur, but he's helping his own antagonist, not Crowley's. I for one like to think that Crowley would have returned to help anyway after processing his emotions, even without the threat to Aziraphale's existence. And when he does return I like that he maintains an attitude of "I'll help but I don't have to like it!"
(Side note, it's also hilarious how irritated Aziraphale is by Jim later while Crowley is so patient - another case of doing the right thing but not necessarily liking it).
TLDR: I see their fight as emotional reactions to stress, that can be summed up along the lines of "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at the situation!" Aziraphale's a BAMF in my book for doing what he believes was right.
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moon-rivr · 18 days
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i’d love like a scenario about his infinity or something like that where he never lets anyone touch him even the reader but there’s like a moment where he does or something? could be an established relationship or not idrc. and you can make it smutty or not it’s up to youuu.
- 🫶🏼🫶🏼
within infinities
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader
contents: angst, brief mention of self harm from satoru, alc consumption, fingering, some nipple play, use of lube, unprotected sex (wrap it 🤨🫵🏼), and aftercare (sorry if i missed anything)
synopsis: after suguru left satoru behind, he was left to try to rebuild what was left. he shut himself down, blocking out the world as an attempt to keep himself from getting hurt. after trying out several methods to cope with the pain inside of him, he learned that it wasn’t what he needed.
author’s note: thank you for the request, anon! hopefully you enjoy <3
word count: 7k
Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer alive.
And yet, an overwhelming sensation of weakness filled his body like a cruel poison. Slowly clawing away at him and his body until there was nothing left but a simple hollow shell of what he used to be. Nothing left but just the memories of a time where he used to actually be happy. Of a time where he wasn't depending on memories to keep him going throughout the day.
He thought he noticed everything, small details that nobody else would've thought to pay attention to. The cigarette brands that Shoko consistently pilfered through to find the one with the strongest nicotine output. A different colored ribbon that Utahime put in her hair on a random Tuesday morning.
The one thing he'd been so oblivious to was the suffering that Suguru had been going through. The one thing that should've been clear to him since the start. The immense amount of blame that Satoru placed upon himself would've been too much for a regular person to handle, but he'd convinced himself that he deserved to feel like this. Convinced himself that it was only right for him to feel a fraction of the pain that Suguru must've been going through.
Satoru tortured himself mentally for days on end, thinking about what could've been different if he hadn't been so consumed with his own problems. If he would've been enough reason for Suguru to stay. Though, he liked to imagine that maybe things would've been different if he had begged, other times he wasn't too sure. But it all stems down to the same thing, if only he had noticed. If only he'd tried harder. If only. If.
Gojo attempted to put up a front, to pretend like nothing bothered him with the stupid jokes that he shared and the smiles that hurt his cheeks from how unnatural they are. Yet after a while, little cracks started to show in his otherwise perfect image. Black rings circled below his eyes, almost an unnatural look on his pale skin. Tiny crescent marks formed on his palms from how deep he dug his nails in.
He grew accustomed to hearing "Are you okay?" directed towards him, growing even more accustomed to saying yes and giving them a polite smile so he'd be left alone. Even with Shoko, he'd grown used to lying through his teeth to her. He could see the suspicion lying within her expression, but it wasn't addressed. Much like how her own pain regarding the situation wasn't addressed.
The group of four broke down as Satoru’s absence continued, the only ones left being you and shoko. He hadn't meant to push the two of you away, but a part of him couldn't fathom that the two of you could be capable of hurting the same way he was. He and Suguru were connected in a way that he'd never managed to achieve with anyone, a way that made him forget he was the strongest sorcerer for a moment.
You knocked on Professor Yaga’s door after getting called down here, listening for a 'come in' before stepping into the office. If that was even an appropriate name for the space that Yaga had. The walls almost seemed to close in as you walked inside, approaching him slowly.
Yaga was in the middle of sewing one of his dolls, barely giving you a glance as he finished up with the stitch that he had to make. "You called for me?" You asked him after a couple seconds of uncomfortable silence. You felt yourself shrink when he looked up from the task, his face completely void from emotion.
"I need you to check up on Gojo. His behavior recently has been concerning, to say the least," he put down the wool he had in hand, a stern look on his face. "I know that he's going through it, but we need him. He's been disregarding his missions and frankly, we don't really have enough resources to replace him with. Just try, please," you nodded along to what Yaga was saying, departing from his office shortly thereafter.
You stopped by town, looking through a couple shops to find some snacks that maybe Gojo would enjoy. It was a fairly simple task, he tended to enjoy any snack as long as it satiated his sweet tooth. You picked up a slice of strawberry cake and grabbed a couple pieces of kikufuku. After contemplating in front of the candy aisle, you decided to throw a bag in your basket just for safe measure. You doubted he'd pay attention to you for more than two minutes if you didn't take these.
"Hey, do you wanna come over with me over to Gojo's?" You asked Shoko after finding her in the courtyard, cigarette dangling in between her pointer and middle finger. She exhaled the smoke in her mouth, hesitating for a couple seconds. "I don't know if he wants to see me right now," she responded, glancing over at the snacks you had in a woven basket. You hadn't considered what you'd do if Gojo decided to turn you away, the thought only coming to the forefront of your mind now. "Good luck with that though."
You waved over at her, leaving to go to Gojo's dorm. The clan had arranged for his to be separate from the student body, another method of protection for the heir. Well, if he kicked you out, you'd just leave the snacks and try again, later? After all, that's really all Yaga had asked you to do. Try. You knocked on the door and waited for a couple seconds for some kind of movement. No answer. You decided to test your luck, jiggling the doorknob. The door swung open, an almost rancid smell hitting your nostrils immediately.
A couple of soda cans were thrown on the floor without any regards to where they landed and boxes of takeout littered the entrance to his dorm. You took your shoes off, setting them in a somewhat clean corner. You made a little maze to move across his dorm without making a noise, having to stretch your legs at an unnatural angle to get through. After maneuvering your way through the living room, you got to his bedroom door. You hesitated as you stood in front of it, bringing your hand up to knock. Before you got the chance to do so, you heard a loud creak from behind the room.
The door swung open like a scene from a horror movie, dust bunnies flying off the TV table when the wind blew inside. The room was on the borderline of being pitch black, some shadows appearing on the floor from the dim sunlight coming through the thick curtain. You squinted as you tried to make your way through the room, letting out a small grunt when your knee hit the corner of a desk. You rubbed your hand against the sting, walking over to the king sized bed situated in the middle of the room.
You reached out to touch him, but despite your best effort, you couldn't bring yourself to actually touch him. You were so close to him, yet he was so out of reach. The ray of light that did manage to peek through the curtains he'd pulled back accentuated how red his cheeks were, dried tear streaks on a otherwise perfect face. His face was contorted into an expression of pain, his brows furrowed while his breathing started to pick up.
"Please don't go," his ragged whispers came out, his body shaking under the thick blanket he wrapped himself in. Since you couldn't actually touch him, you decided to try out the next best thing. "Gojo, wake up. You're having a nightmare," you whispered, standing as close as you could. His eyes shot open, his breathing slowly starting to slow down as he gained consciousness of his surroundings.
"Sorry about that," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair as he sat up. The blanket pooled by his body, unraveling his body. While Gojo had always been somewhat on the lanky side, you couldn't help but notice just how skinny he's gotten throughout these past couple weeks. Now you wished you'd brought him a meal instead of a bunch of candies. "No, you're good. The door was open and I just decided to come in, I hope you don't mind."
"Uh no, I don't mind. Just excuse the mess, haven't gotten around to cleaning it up," he told you, giving you another one of those forced smiles that you'd grown accustomed to seeing by now. You nodded, standing by his door awkwardly before attempting to offer some kind of reassurance of your own. "If there's something that I can do for you, don't hesitate to let me know."
"Actually there is something that you could do. Do you want to have sex with me?" the question caught you off guard, having expected something completely different. He'd gone from having his infinity on at all times to wanting some form of intimacy? Even through his request, you could see the hesitation lingering behind his eyes. He was forcing himself to pretend like he wanted this. "No, I don't want to."
If you were in a different situation, you might've let out a laugh at the way his jaw comedically dropped open. It was a word he wasn't used to hearing, much less from someone he was trying to get with. Half the time he didn't need to make the effort, they just said yes to whatever he suggested whenever they got a smidge of attention. "Are you not into me or something? I could've sworn i caught you staring a couple times."
Now it was your turn to have your jaw open. Well, metaphorically speaking of course. You thought you'd been discreet with the stares towards him while he was training, though you couldn't deny that maybe you looked for a couple seconds too long. You cleared your throat, pretending like he hadn't exposed the feelings you had towards him with just a single sentence. And yes, while you did want to fuck him, you didn't want it to be under these circumstances.
"I just don't think fucking me is what you need right now," you hesitated to answer, the tension between the two of you so thick that it could be broken with a knife.
"Please. I just need something to help me forget," he sounded so pitiful when he was on the brink of begging. You weren't even sure when was the last time he bothered to take a shower, his clothes being the same ones you'd seen him with a week ago. He wasn't in the right state of mind to even function properly, much less have sex.
"It's not gonna help. If anything, you're just gonna end up regretting it later."
"Please."
You remained firm in the position that you were in, holding up the basket of snacks. "I can stay with you for a while if you want, but I don't want to have sex with you while you're like this," you responded, handing over the basket once he let the suggestion go. He took the basket, grabbing the kikufaku immediately. "I thought friends were supposed to help each other out."
You wanted to argue back to him, but you decided to keep quiet. You'd excuse his behavior with the fact that he was in pain right now. Despite all that, he let you stay in his dorm for a couple more hours. The two of you sat at a distance, an invisible barrier set between the two of you. Gojo settled on a horror movie, a series he'd been talking about nonstop throughout most of the year. Even if most of the gore was unrealistic and you could see the jumpscares coming from miles away, it still felt like somewhat nice being so close to him.
Much to everyone's surprise, Gojo had managed to make it up to graduation without missing another day. You could tell too clearly that the smile he had plastered on his face for every class picture that he took was a facade, something to play off for the fact that his heart was in shambles at the absence of his best friend. He accepted every congratulations with a thank you, the words seeming to slip out with much more ease the more that he said them.
If anyone else could notice that look on his face, there was nothing said to acknowledge that fact. Mostly because a majority of the student body was facing some kind of internal issues of their own, whether it be Haibara’s death or the shock of what Geto had done. Even then, words couldn't make up for the absence that Suguru had left within him. An 'I'm sorry' wouldn't do anything towards the fact that he was still gone. Even with all the extra work he'd done to make sure he graduated on time, the fact remained. Suguru wouldn't be coming back.
Gojo could remember the conversation he had with Suguru months prior to the accident, the two of them color coordinating what their suits would be. What apartment they would get together, somewhere that was near a sweets shop. All he had left was the apartment lease in his hands, the paper straining underneath his tight grasp. While some people were eagerly sharing what their plans were for that summer, he was left staring from a distance until eventually, the ceremony came to an end. He was starting to feel a midlife crisis peeking through at just 18, of having no actual sense of direction in his life.
Frankly, Satoru wasn't a big fan of alcohol. he found that he hated the way it made him feel, from the way he felt while he was drunk to the way that he felt the next morning. It made him feel out of control, out of his own body. But, that's exactly what he found himself needing now. The first sip of sake made his throat constrict, his first instinct to throw it up. But he swallowed it down, determined to go through with this. None of the euphoria that he'd heard came with alcohol ever came for him.
The next morning, he woke up with vomit splattered all over himself and the sides of the toilet. His head pounded from the sheer amount of alcohol he'd consumed, his eyes rimmed red. "Ah fuck," he muttered, his voice coming out strained from the effort he'd put into throwing up earlier. He got up from the bathroom floor, deciding to take a shower and clean himself up. His head hung low as he stood underneath the boiling water, a reminder to himself that he was still human. That he could still feel things.
He got out of the shower after spending an ungodly amount of water, wrapping a fluffy white towel around his waist. He grabbed his phone from the pants he used last night, letting out a small groan as he saw that it was on 2%. Of course he'd forgotten to charge it last night with all the stupid shit he'd done. He looked down to see that he had a voicemail from you, barely sent half an hour ago. He clicked on it, your voice filling up the four walls of his bathroom.
"Hey Gojo, I was calling to say goodbye but you didn't answer. Uh, I'm not sure if it means a lot to you but congrats on graduating!" He could tell the little strain you put on your voice to attempt to sound somewhat cheerful but he appreciated it nonetheless.
"And since were probably not gonna see each other again, I guess I should probably admit that you had a point when you mentioned those 'longing stares.' I did have a crush on you, so I hope that doesn't make you too uncomfortable," his heart dropped down to his feet as he listened to the rest of the message, a boarding announcement.
Now he was really starting to regret the way that he acted. he had somewhat of a feeling that you had a crush on him, making you the perfect person to propose the idea of having sex to. That and the fact that he found your company to be quite nice. The day that you'd last been over to his place, the two of you had sat in silence throughout the duration of the film playing on his TV. And it wasn't uncomfortable. Sure, the fact that he'd gotten rejected had lingered in the air but he still enjoyed having your presence around.
He restarted the message over and over again until his phone died. He'd thought about different apologies that he wanted to type out while his phone was charging but every time that he got close to pressing the 'send' button, he just never did. Too corny. Too short. Too long. Too sentimental. There was an excuse for every draft that he typed out, none of them really accentuating what he wanted to tell you. He ended up deleting the drafts, setting his phone down as he buried his head in his knees.
As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you never truly felt like you belonged with the students at the Tokyo campus. Despite the fact that you'd been in the group with the trio, it never felt quite right. It felt as if Gojo and Geto were connected in a way that you and Shoko would never be able to compare to. The thought of leaving hadn't cemented into your head until you looked down at your certificate, imagining what future was left for you here. Of fighting curses with no sort of attachment for other people out of fear that they might die?
A part of you had been wishing that Satoru didn't pick up the phone after having a conversation with Shoko, yet you couldn't help but feel disappointed the second you were told to leave your voicemail. You were prolonging getting on the airplane, waiting for some kind of indication that you shouldn't go. But there was nothing holding you back. nothing to tie you down to Tokyo other than the memories you had in this place. With that, you grabbed your carry on bag and prepared to get on the plane once your group was called.
Unfortunately, Satoru had found out the hard way that you were right to reject his advances. He tried to force himself to sleep with different women to try to forget, to have something more to think about other than Suguru. And yet, he could never actually bring himself to actually go through with any of them. The flirting had brought him temporary relief, only for old memories to hit him ten times harder when he was alone. If anything, it'd made him feel even worse for attempting to use someone for his own gain.
Once he got to raise Megumi, however, he had less time to think about what he was going through and rather how to keep the tiny human alive. Satoru didn't think that it would be that hard, all he had to focus on was keeping him alive and fed. The kid had matured way faster than he really should've, uninterested in most of the things that other children were doing at his age. While the kids at the playground were busy playing hopscotch or tag, Megumi was in the corner with his head buried in a book.
It'd barely been a year since you left when Yaga’s name flashed on your screen. You were barely getting home from the store, setting your bags down before pulling your phone from your pocket. "Professor Yaga," you answered, using the title out of courtesy. "Just Yaga’s fine. Look, I was wondering how long you planned on being on this little sabbatical," he got straight to the point as he spoke, a couple voices coming from behind him. None that you recognized.
"Well, I wasn't planning on coming back to Tokyo if that's what you're asking," you responded once the noise behind him died down, a sharp exhale coming out from the other end. "Look, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't need you. Nanami went off to the world of business and whatnot, there's a dire need for professors," he spoke up, leaving no room for discussion. As much as you would've liked to stay, you decided to accept the job 'invitation.'
There weren't many things that you had left to pack up, just your clothes and your shoes. Despite how hard you tried to make this new place your 'home,' you found some type of excuse to put off unpacking your stuff completely. Whether it was that you were busy with work or that you had to do groceries. Or maybe because you were looking for an excuse such as this one, an excuse to prevent you from actually having to settle down. It no longer seemed like it was the place, but rather you.
Maybe you didn't belong anywhere.
"You have a child," your eyes widen in surprise upon seeing the kid Gojo had clinging onto his side, having caught him while you were out in the market. "I have a child," he repeated, holding the kid's hand within his own. The kid resisted at first before letting himself be held, looking up at you with an unamused expression on his face. "Megumi," the kid told you, extending his hand out. The two of you exchanged pleasantries, a short exchange of your names and a 'nice to meet you.'
"I'm dropping him off at a friend's place tonight if you want to come over and have dinner," Gojo suggested once the two of you met up at the entrance of the market. You wanted to do everything in your power to not have to be alone with him after what you'd told him during your last call, but you decided to agree. After Megumi was dropped off, the two of you drove back to his place in silence. Every time you wanted to bring something up, you decided to just leave the topic alone and continue to stare out the window.
"I wanted to apologize to you. I never found the right words to tell you, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for trying to use you for my personal gain," the words practically flooded out of him as soon as the two of you got back home, his hands struggling to keep up with the pace he was talking in. "You don't have to apologize," you assured him, going to bring one hand over to his shoulder. Unlike the last time you tried to comfort him, you were able to touch him this time around.
"And I know you only admitted those things to me since you thought you'd never see me again but I have to tell you that you haven't left my mind since the day I lost you," he spoke slower this time around, the words lingering in the air for a few seconds after he'd finished speaking. You were speechless, your mouth opening and closing back up like a fish. "Oh," you managed to finally say, the apartment seeming to close in on you as a silence settled in.
When you'd told him that a year ago, you were convinced that he hadn't felt the same way. That you were being delusional. You knew how unavailable he was, whether it be from his job keeping him too busy or the fact that he was so different from everyone else. Now that he told you this.. you actually weren't sure what to do with this information. As much as you tried to convince yourself that you left the crush behind in Tokyo, you still found yourself thinking about him when you were alone.
His brows furrowed, immediately making you regret not having any more to say to him. "Sorry, it's just I wasn't really expecting that," you tried to quickly fix the situation, a small sigh of relief escaping from his lips. "I wanted to thank you, actually. You were right in rejecting me when you did, it wouldn't have been a pleasurable experience for the both of us," he finished up, walking closer to you. his voice dropped to a low whisper as he spoke, "But what if I said I wanted to have sex with you now?"
"Then I guess there'd be no logical reason for me to say no."
The notion of dinner was quickly forgotten. His lips were on top of yours as soon as the words escaped from your mouth, kissing you like a man depraved. He did nothing to hide the desperation radiating off his body, not that there was much he could've done. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging at the white strands as you tried to bring him impossibly closer to yourself. The kiss itself was more of a clash of tongue and teeth, but it did its job in showing the amount of need the two of you had towards each other.
He tapped on your thigh to jump, your legs wrapping around his waist with ease. He hadn't bothered to stop kissing you as he led the two of you over to his bedroom, only stopping to reach over for the doorknob. "You’ll find its more organized this time around," he spoke up, gently setting you down in silk sheets. "I'd hope so after a year," you responded, laying down with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He started off taking your pants, tossing them off to the side once he managed to get them off.
Satoru’s fingertips ghosted up your legs, applying only the lightest of touches. It was almost like he was committing the sight of your body to memory, of all the little scars and moles on your legs. Your slick was starting to run down to your panties, creating a wet spot right in the center. He hooked his fingers in the flimsy material of your underwear, slowly starting to slide it down.
"How do you feel about socks during sex?" The question caught you off guard, a laugh threatening to overcome your lips at how serious the question sounded. You looked down at the end of the bed where Satoru was situated, noticing that his glasses were long discarded.
"You're actually being serious?"
"Well yeah. It's a controversial topic, y'know?"
"Do what feels natural to you. You have my full consent to take my socks off if you want."
"What an answer," he muttered, sliding the black socks you had on before letting them fall on the floor. It was at that moment that you felt just how intense his stare was, seeing him completely mesmerized by finally having you in his bed.
You wanted to shut your legs upon feeling how intense his gaze was but his large fingers kept them apart. "Keep them spread for me, pretty," his voice sounded different from normal, he almost sounded desperate? His dominance over the situation was hanging on by a thread, the need to have you overtaking that desire. You felt somewhat awkward at being so exposed, but you kept your legs open for him.
Despite the attraction that women presented towards him, he never quite entertained it up to this point. A couple meaningless flirts, a few whispers of sweet nothings, Of promises that he would never imagine going through with. But this? He was completely sure that he wanted nothing more but to worship your body the way that it deserved. The way that he'd been dreaming about since he found out you shared the same feelings he did towards you.
He was going off what he viewed as something natural, from what he'd heard from other people. He leaned down, pressing his lips on your ankles as he left an open mouth kiss on it. His other hand raked up and down your left leg while his mouth explored every inch that your right leg had to offer. Based on the way that your breathing was steadily starting to pick up the more he moved up, he was guessing he was doing a pretty alright job at this.
You let out a small gasp at feeling his finger sink inside of you, his large fingers filling you up with ease. He pulled them out, dragging out the action before revealing his fingers completely coated in your slick. He swirled his tongue around his fingers, almost like he wanted to savor the taste of you. And in a way, he did. Every piece of candy that he'd eaten paled to compare to how sweet your essence was.
"Would've tried harder last time if I knew you tasted that good," he told you, his fingers finding their way to your cunt again. "What makes you so sure I would've relented?" You challenged, the last bit of defiance dying out as you felt his pointer finger find your clit with ease. You were sure that if he pressed his finger on it, he'd be able to feel just how much it throbbed for some kind of attention. You bit down on your lip, unwilling to give him that satisfaction of knowing how much he affected you.
"Given how wet you are now, it wouldn't have been that much of a challenge," he responded with a cocky grin, letting out a small chuckle at the way you rolled your eyes. He slid his pointer finger, curling it to find your g-spot. "Got it," he whispered, noticing the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your slick coated his fingers every time that he pushed his fingers inside of you, your walls clenching at the motion.
He brought his mouth down to your breasts, watching them harden at just the slightest breeze flowing through his apartment. He took the left one in his mouth, your hand immediately coming down to his hair. Your grip on the white strands tightened as you felt his tongue roll around your hardened nipple, your legs instinctively shutting around his hand. He didn't stop fingering you, opening your legs with his other hand.
You were approaching your orgasm rapidly, the knot inside of your stomach starting to tighten. Moans escaped from your mouth in a slew of curses or small whimpers of his name. All which sounded like the most angelic music to his ears. "There we go, I got you," he whispered, looking up at you as he tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You started to move away from him as you felt yourself on the brink of your orgasm, though the grip that he had on your hip made it impossible to do so.
The knot inside of you snapped with a thrust of his fingers, your cunt soaking his fingers with your release. He pulled them out, the juices making his fingers glisten underneath the moonlight. He brought them over to his mouth once more, savoring the way that you tasted. Maybe one day he'd get to have a proper taste of you. But for now, all that he wanted was to feel the way your walls clenched around his cock. He leaned in, your lips parting as he kissed you. all so you could taste yourself.
His lips went down to your jawline, planting a couple open mouthed kisses before he moved down to your neck and collarbone. While his touch was nothing short of delightful, you were starting to grow needy. You bucked your hips against him to try to get some kind of friction, your attempts dismissed with a chuckle. "Please," you spoke up, his lips pressed against your stomach. You wanted some kind of mercy, some kind of relief.
He didn't seem to do that, though. Satoru continued to ignore your pleas, his fingers barely moving along your thighs as he resumed with kissing your body. He almost seemed like he basked in making you into a desperate mess for him, on the borderline of begging him to do something. "Touch me," you whispered, trying to move your hips to meet his fingers. One of his hands went over to your hip, holding you down. "I'm sure you can ask better than that, no?"
Damn him. Damn the way that he looked at you while he said that, pale blue eyes almost shining underneath the moonlight. He looked at you with fascination, curious to see what it is that made your body tick and what made you lose your composure. And damn yourself for not being able to resist. To be fair, you don't know how anyone could possibly resist him in this situation.
"..Please touch me," you muttered, unable to speak louder if you even tried. His finger prodded at your entrance, only sticking the tip before retracting it once more. You felt yourself clench around nothing, your desperation growing tenfold. "I can't hear you properly. Come on and speak louder for me, princess."
You wanted to slap the stupid smirk off his face, but the rational part of you knew that the longer you dragged this out, the longer it'd take for you to receive some kind of relief. "Please touch me," you spoke a bit louder this time, the words hitting his ears with ease this time around. Despite the fact, he stayed in the same position he was in. "I thought I was touching you already. Be more specific."
You let out an exasperated huff, looking over at him to realize he was being serious. His fingers applied featherlight touches onto your inner thighs thighs, barely moving towards your wet cunt before abruptly pulling them away. "Please fuck me," you relented after a couple seconds of internal debate, his fingers pulling away from your thighs. You were about to open your mouth to complain from the loss of contact until you realized what he was doing.
Satoru did quick work of removing his pants and boxers, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. As weird as it was to admit it, he had a pretty dick. White tufts of hairs leading from his abdomen to his pelvis were trimmed down to a manageable length, his happy trail looking all too inviting. Pre cum leaked from his reddened bulbous tip, leaking down his shaft and some onto the floor.
"There's some lube and condoms in the first cabinet if you could get those for me," he spoke up, pointing with his lips over to the night stand next to you. You handed him over the bottle of lube, feeling the cold liquid running down your folds a few seconds later. A small shiver went down your spine, your cunt clenching around pure air in anticipation. "We don't have to use a condom if you don't want to," you spoke up, watching as he lathered lube onto his shaft.
"You sure?"
You nodded before answering his question, “I'm on birth control and i'm clean." he set the condom off to the side, his hands coming onto your legs. He brought you closer to himself, aligning his cock with your entrance. Despite the fact that he'd worked you open with his fingers and there was an extra level of lubrication involved, you couldn't help but feel nervous once the size of his cock registered in your head. How was he going to fit?
Almost as if he could sense the worry emanating off you, he gently rubbed your thighs. "I’ll take it slow, don't worry," he assured you, slowly pushing the tip in. His head lolled back at the sensation of your walls fluttering around the tip, a small groan escaping from his lips. The sheets rustled underneath your fingers, your grip on them tightening with every inch that he pushed inside you. The sensation between your legs was starting to get uncomfortable, your walls stretching past their limits.
"Stop for a moment," you choked out, his movements halting immediately. He brought his hand over to yours, his fingers intertwining yours. In a way, that small gesture took you out of your head and brought you back to the moment. I'm sorry," you looked over at him, feeling his cock twitching inside of you. He wiped one of the tears running down your face with his thumb, leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. "Don't apologize. We have all night."
Satoru was glad that you asked for a break. He'd resorted to thinking about a cursed spirit he had to fight earlier so he wouldn't blow his load upon the first thrust. The way that your walls clenched around him, like they never wanted to let his cock go was almost too much for him to bear. "So, How'd your day go today?" He decided to ask, wanting to make you a bit more comfortable in this situation. One of the questions you weren't expecting while having a dick inside of you.
“It was good,” you responded, taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself down. The two of you got into a conversation of what’d you’d done for the day. Eventually, the pain in your vagina started to contort into need. The need for pleasure, for some kind of friction. "You can move," you spoke up after a couple seconds, letting out a gasp as his cock unsheathed from your cunt. He slid back inside, the tip of his cock hitting spots that most of your vibrators couldn't touch.
His rhythm started off slow, his main concern being on getting you adjusted to the sensation. Despite how much he'd thought about this moment, how much he wanted to claim your body as his, he decided that he would be patient. Your pleasure was miles above his own right now. He'd wait until you were comfortable enough to ask him for more. His thrusts were slow but deep, molding your cunt to the shape of his cock. With each thrust that he took, he made sure to hit your g-spot every time to have your toes curling and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
"Faster, please," you moaned, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. He placed both hands on your hips, his balls slapping against your ass every time that he pushed his cock inside of you. The tip of his cock went deeper inside of you each time, your hand clinging onto his as your body shook underneath his. "Such a pretty cunt. Just made for me to fuck you," he babbled, moving one of his hands over to your clit. His thumb started to rub the nub in small circles, matching it to the pace he was setting.
You weren't sure if you wanted him to stop or keep going, the pleasure inside of you felt almost overwhelming. Your orgasm felt much more different this time around. Your body convulsed as you felt the pressure inside of you build up, your cunt gushing when he pulled out. Your release squirted out of you, leaking down your thighs and spraying up to wet his legs. "That was so fucking hot," he groaned, his cock twitching as he moved inside of you once more. The euphoria you felt from your orgasm was something you'd never felt before.
His thrusts started to grow sloppier by the second, a groan escaping his lips as he started to cum. A mixture of his fluid and yours leaked down onto the bedsheets below, your cunt filled up to the brim. He pulled out slowly with a squelch, the sight of you full of his cum almost being enough to give him a hard on again. He took a couple seconds to regain his breath, getting off the bed before walking over to the bathroom.
You wouldn't deny that a part of you was expecting for him to kick you out, that your time together was finished. He emerged from the bathroom with a white towel, getting in between your legs. He cleaned you up, wiping the fluid leaking down your thighs with more gentleness than you'd expected. "You don't have to go yet if you don't want to. I have some ice cream in the fridge to share if you wanna stay and watch something."
"Surprised you're willing to share."
"I guess I can make the sacrifice just this once. Just for you, though."
He walked over to his dresser, grabbing a white tee before placing it next to you. "The dress you're wearing isn't exactly ideal to spend the night in," he told you, as if that was enough explanation. Well, in a way it was. It was his way of asking you to spend the night over without actually having to do so. "If you didn't want me to leave, you could've said so," you called out after him as he left the room, getting up to put the shirt over yourself. You grabbed your panties off from the floor, sliding them back on.
He came back with two bowls of ice cream, a reasonable amount for you and the bowl filled to the brim for himself. "Wonder how you haven't gotten diabetes yet," you pondered out loud, grabbing the bowl once he passed it over. "If I do, I'll just use RCT," he responded, setting the bowl of ice cream down on his nightstand. He grabbed a clean bedsheet from his closet, pulling the soiled ones off before setting in the black silk sheets down.
He grabbed his ice cream before getting in the bed after you did. He wrapped an arm around you, the bowl of ice cream now situated in between his legs. The two of you got into a debate about what movie you wanted to watch, eventually just settling on a comedy that the two of you would enjoy. He held you close to his body as the movie started, a warm blanket pulled up to cover the two of you.
Despite the fact that his hands were all over you earlier, this was the most rewarding part of spending this time with him. His hands were wrapped around you, holding you close to his body while the movie played in the background. There was no invisible barrier separating the two of you anymore. In a way, you felt even closer to him now rather than when he was inside of you.
"What's on your mind?" He broke the silence, grabbing white bandages from his nightstand before wrapping them around his eyes. You finally felt as though you belonged somewhere for once. That place being beside satoru. "Nothing too serious," you assured him, resting your head against his head. He stole some of your ice cream, no complaints coming from you though. If a bit of ice cream was something you had to share, then there would be no problem.
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puppetwoman17 · 8 months
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I’ve been wanting to talk about this but I thought it would sound weird and kinda Mary Sue like! Glad to hear that I’m not the only one.
I’m very adamant on Cap being a pillar in not only the magic community(cause of his Champion role obviously) but the hero community as well. He’s well-known for his heroics and impossible stories about battling sentient worms and being diplomatic with alien dinosaurs.
He’s also loved for the advice he gives. All Billy wants to do is bring smiles to these peoples’ days. He dishes out advice like it’s candy and always sees the good in people. He’s great at looking at situations through multiple viewpoints and understanding everyone’s thought processes. This in particular helps with the Superman and Superboy problem. He tells both of them individually that both of their hardships are valid. Clark is allowed to feel violated because his DNA was stolen and mutated in a way that was against his consent. Connor never asked to be created, always wanting Superman’s love but never receiving it.
They reconcile, and Billy doesn’t think much of it, because it’s what anyone would do, right? No biggie. He even does something similar with Red Arrow, convincing him that he’s not just a clone. He’s his own person. He built his own life. He has his own achievements. He shouldn’t feel bad for any of this because none of it was in his control. And Roy is so damn grateful because it feels like a weight has been taken off his shoulders.
Marvel just shrugs. No biggie.
He talks Leaguers through both personal and professional problems and guides them onto a simple, honest path because adults make everything so damn complicated so why can’t you just sit THE FUCK DOWN—
Ahem.
So he helps with that too. No biggie, right? Just another good deed.
He expands his one-way business to other teams too, like the JSA, the YJ team, the Teen Titans, etc. Spends time with each of them, helps them solve their own problems whether they’re big or small.
No biggie, right?
Fucking. Wrong.
The world of heroes absolutely adores him! The other hero teams look to him like he’s the cool uncle. Despite no one knowing jackshit about his personal life, they trust him wholeheartedly. They know he’s got their back.
That’s actually what hurts, tho. Whenever anyone asks him about his life outside the cape, he gets tongue-tied. Panicked. Silent. Doesn’t say a word until a new topic is brought up and then changes wheels like it’s nothing. It hurts, knowing he doesn’t trust them. They know it’s stupid, he never had obligations to tell them anything about the real him, but it stings. Where does he go when he isn’t Cap? Does he have family? A lover? Hobbies? Pets? Why is he like a brick wall with them? Did they do something wrong?
Things get especially annoying when characters like Booster Gold(from the future) and Doctor Fate(Lord of Order, basically on the same pedestal as the Champion) know his identity and don’t even bother to hide that fact. Leaguers will frequently catch Booster making knowing jabs at the Captain, winking and saying strange things that get the Captain riled up and shaking his head profusely. Nabu is no help either, with Leaguers catching him and Marvel quietly conversing. When someone, say, Barry, shows up, Marvel stops talking.
It fucking hurts. A lot. And Billy doesn’t even notice the looks of jealousy cast at his future teammate and fellow Lord by his coworkers. The YJ team is not taking that shit because that is their den dad. Diana doesn’t appreciate that these strangers know more about her brother than she does. Flash is all confused and slightly annoyed because when are they gonna play another prank on Hal? Is he just gonna keep talking to those weirdos all day? And the next?
Billy’s honestly just happy to be here. He never thought he’d get past the age of ten, so doing all of this, helping these heroes while learning more about himself, is just great. He’s speedrunning his way through every moody, self-righteous, hurt, traumatized hero with no sweat on his back.
So yeah, he is beloved and he doesn’t even know it. You betcha that when Cap’s identity is revealed, everyone goes full mama bear/papa bear/protective older brother or sister on him. No way is he leaving without supervision.
Nabu and Booster are rolling their eyes cause hello? That’s the Champion of Magic. If anything, he’s the one they should be worried about.
Yeah, they are politely asked to leave after that. Anyhow Billy, wanna go get some hot chocolate 😘😍
Excuse the word vomit.
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pelova4president · 1 month
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Shadows are to protect IV
Victoria Pelova x Putellas!Reader
shadows are to protect I, II, III
summary~ You finally get your happy ending.
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So you disappeared. You booked a flight to The Netherlands and didn’t tell anyone. You wanted to see the country Victoria talked about so much. The little cafes and restaurants she visited when she was there.
You built your own little world, a bubble where no one could hurt you and you couldn’t hurt anyone you cared about. You wouldn’t mind living here. Everyone did their own thing and there were dogs and parks everywhere.
De Oranje Leeuwinnen were playing a few days after you had arrived and you couldn’t let the chance of seeing Victoria play in front of her own people slip.
The stadium was absolutely packed. The orange shirts with the names of female players on them and red, white and blue flags on everyone’s cheeks. Even though Spain had won the World Cup there wasn’t this much attention for the Spanish team. It was something you were jealous of.
It’s been days since you disappeared, Alexia hasn’t texted or called you yet and you were grateful for that. She never knows what’s going through your head but if you don’t reach out in a situation like this, she knew she had to leave you be. She’d be there if you wanted to talk and you didn’t really desire that the past few days. But now you did.
In the hopes that she would pick up in the middle of the day you called. You sat in a little bakery somewhere in The Hague and it felt like the right time.
Three rings had gone by before you got someone on the other end of the phone. “Hola hermanita… Hola?” she said. “Ale, you got time?” you asked her. You heard her laugh, “Not really but you know i’ve always got time for my pequeña princesa.” you could imagine the big grin on her face. You groaned at the stupid nickname. She knew you hated it when she called you that.
“Whatever, i’m talking about like at least an hour. I’ve got a lot to tell you.” you said taking a sip from the overpriced latte. “Sí, i’ve got time for you.” she sighed.
She knew you probably had a lot to talk about. Alexia hadn’t really pushed you to talk about it because she knew you weren’t a great talker and if you really wanted to and if she needed to know, you would tell her.
And so you told her everything, about going to Arsenal and how it had been the first few weeks. How it wasn’t your home and how you felt so so lost there. You told her about Alessia, that she had your heart and she broke it just like that. That you didn’t really want to come out of bed the days after and that that was the reason why you visited her when you did. And about Victoria Pelova, the girl that has been nothing but good to you. Alexia laughed at that, she knew you’d get along, that’s why she told you to give the girl a chance.
“I’m in The Netherlands now Ale, i don’t know what to do now.” You sighed into your phone. “Joder hermanita, you already know what to do. I already know you got your ticket to the game. Dile que la amas.” Alexia always knew what to say. Sometimes it was nice to have a big sister that can tell you what to do. “And next time we play against England, just know i’ll get back at Russo.” she deadpanned. And a sister to protect you.
You had texted Victoria good luck before the game. ‘Hey Vicky, i just wanted to let you know i’ll be at your game today. Please listen to the voicemail i’ve left you a few days ago. Ik hou van jou, je kan het.’ you sent her.
Sitting on the third row you got a pretty good views of the game. It wasn’t a really important game or anything and the chance the orange team won was very high so you weren’t that nervous for the brunette.
In the 17th minute Brugts scored from the penalty area and not long after van de Donk scored too. The first half ended in 3-0.
As the players walked to the changing room you looked for Victoria. When you finally found her eyes, hers were already focused on you. Your lips formed an apologetic smile and you waved at her. She gave you a little smile before disappearing into the tunnel.
The second half went even smoother for the home side. Esmee Brugts got her hattrick and Damaris and Roord scored one each. It was the 88th minute when Kerstin Casparij made a dribble forward. She passed two midfielders and made a perfect cross. The white ball landed on Vic’s foot and she volleyed the ball into the corner of the net.
It was just an Euros qualifier but for you it was much more. You knew today was now or never. It was 8-0 but the crowd was just as loud as it was when the first goal was scored.
The game was over and you saw the team do their lap around the field. You loved how involved they were with their fans, especially the kids. Victoria was somewhere at the back, still signing a little girl’s Arsenal shirt when Damaris spotted you and ran towards your section.
You knew the player well. Damaris used to play for Spain but decided to move to the Dutch team and you got why. She was the first one to do something about the Spanish management and you admired her for it. Your ex-teammate climbed over the fences and when she finally got to you she was out of breath. She gave you a hug and greeted you. “Don’t tell Vic i know but she listened to your message before the game. She’s been sad all camp and doesn’t want to listen to anyone. Just wait at our hotel and i’ll get you in.” she told you before sprinting off again.
So now you were waiting on the orange bus full of players to arrive at some fancy hotel in Amsterdam. You looked like a stalker, dressed in all black with Victoria’s black hat and hoodie on.
After fifteen minutes of waiting the Dutch team finally arrived. All the girls walked past, well everyone except for Vic and Dama.
Damaris walked towards you with two bags in her hands, one with 21 on it and the other with number 17. Victoria walked behind her, confused as why she was carrying her bag inside until she saw you.
“Victoria, you better figure this out because i know you want her and she wants you, okay?” she told the girls strictly. The Arsenal player nodded silently and stood still in front of you.
“Did you hear the voicemail i left you?” you asked her. Her eyes weren’t focused on you but on the big neon letters of the hotel. The blue light was shining on her, making it look like she coloured her hair blue.
“Yeah. I got it, so tell me then, what happened?” her eyes traveled to your face. It was hard to read her at the moment.
“When i came into Arsenal i didn’t know anyone and i was scared and tired of being alone. Alessia helped me at that time until she didn’t need me anymore. One evening i found out she had a boyfriend all along. I was having a hard time after that and went to Alexia for a few days when you texted me.” you smiled at the thought of her text, she really did help you. “Alexia told me to give you a chance and i’m happy i did because you mean so much to me. I don’t think i would be playing football anymore if it wasn’t for you. And then Alessia didn’t like that, she kissed me that evening when you saw us but i told her that i didn’t want her. I swear. I only want you. Te amo, Vicky.” you pleaded.
You were still standing before her, you took your hat off and your right hand was in your pocket while your left was fidgeting with the strings of the black hoodie. “Say something, please.” you begged the brunette. Her silence was killing you.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve just let you explain but i didn’t. It’s just that when i heard Alessia talking to you and then kissing you..” Victoria sighed.
“I get it, you shouldn’t say sorry for that. Can we try again, i really want us to work out.” you smiled.
Victoria’s signature smirk appeared on her face and she leaned in for a kiss. “por supuesto cualquier cosa para ti” she grinned into your neck. “You’ve done your Duolingo sí?” you laughed at her.
“I did, just for you. And maybe just a little bit for when i meet your sister, got to make a good impression on La Reina hmm?” she teased.
A/N finally done!!! I don’t even know how this whole series was planned but this is it, happy ending and all
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In the Blink of an Eye | Bucky Barnes (Mafia AU)
mafia!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot
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Summary: With Bucky Barnes, the mafia lord of New York, as your boyfriend, you're usually safe from any and all harm. With a date night gone wrong and your boyfriend distracted, though, anything can happen in the blink of an eye.
A/N: Another one of my favorites because come on, who doesn't love mob Bucky? If you couldn't tell by now, angst is my thing lol, but I'm working on some fluffier oneshots! True to my word, this one's a reader insert for all you lovelies, enjoy and as always keep dreaming 🤍
Warnings: mafia!Bucky, violence, angst, kidnapping, drugging, language, mentions of torture, fluffy ending because I just can't help myself.
Word Count: 5,896
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I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.
We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.
Then I fell in love.
When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.
Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.
I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.
That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.
"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"
He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.
"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.
Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.
"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.
"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.
"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"
"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.
"Alright, you have 10 minutes."
We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.
As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.
But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.
The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.
"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."
"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"
I cut him off, getting frustrated.
"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.
"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.
My heart cracks.
He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.
And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.
I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.
"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.
"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."
"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.
"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.
"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.
"Let me know if you need anything else."
When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.
"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.
It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.
Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.
"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.
"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.
I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.
He drugged me.
How did he get it into my drink?
How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?
I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.
"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.
Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.
"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.
My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?
"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.
"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.
"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.
"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."
Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?
Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.
"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.
"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.
He knows the code phrase.
They're going to let him take me.
I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.
"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.
"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.
And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.
"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...
My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-
"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."
Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.
||| James Buchanan Barnes
Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.
The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.
Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.
I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.
My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.
My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.
"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.
"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."
There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.
"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.
"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-
"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"
The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.
"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."
Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.
"I never gave that order." I breathe.
"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"
I brushed her off.
"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."
I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.
I left her.
Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.
"Boss, what's-"
"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"
The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.
"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.
"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.
He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.
And it's all my fault.
"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."
I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.
And I left her.
I left her and now she's gone.
She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.
If I can even find her in time, before she-
No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.
That's not a threat. It's a promise.
||| Your POV
The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.
It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.
The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.
That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.
It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.
And that reason is my boyfriend.
I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.
A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.
Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me
Or worse. That he doesn't even care.
Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.
And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.
The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.
As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.
"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.
I stay silent.
I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."
This time, I can't hold myself back.
"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."
It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.
"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.
Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.
"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.
"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"
His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.
"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"
He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."
Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.
"Your White Wolf is here."
My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.
Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.
It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.
He's here.
He's here.
Bucky found me.
When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.
"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."
Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.
"She makes quite the pretty pet."
Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.
"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.
"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."
There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.
"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."
"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."
"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.
"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.
Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.
"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."
Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.
"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"
There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.
"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.
Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."
From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.
"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.
And then all Hell breaks loose.
Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.
"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.
I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.
His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.
"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.
I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.
"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones
I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.
"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.
We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.
I just broke his wrist.
When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.
"You little bitch" he seethes.
My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.
"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.
I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.
And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.
"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.
I don't have to be strong anymore.
Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.
"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."
I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.
"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.
"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."
"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."
At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.
"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.
"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.
Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.
"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.
"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.
"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.
"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"
I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.
"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"
Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.
"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.
"Let's go home, my love"
And he held up his promise. He never left me again.
4K notes · View notes
ixiot-ghostrebel · 11 months
Note
Another sagau reader hearing someone insulting characters and going apeshit but when someone insults reader are like "......hmm shodul I drink hot chocolate or tea today?" This time ganyu( becose I still pissed at one guy who insulted her i her own story quest) bennet and nilou (another chance to make azar feel terror)
COMING RIGHT UP, ANON. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING OMG 💀 I have been too dead without these requests, fr.
Click Me For Part 1!
When Someone Insults Ganyu, Bennett, and Nilou vs When Someone Insults Reader...
(Disclaimers: Might Be OOC, Mentions of Violence, & Quest/Genshin Impact Lore Spoilers!)
Ganyu
Okay, first of all: Yes, I am adding that stupid idiot cough Xin Cheng cough into this.
You were just following the Traveler and Paimon, joining Ganyu's Story Quest which, for some reason, was not completed yet. So, you decided to tag along to see Ganyu!
You weren't hyped when that beggar came out of nowhere and started to do all that fairytale stuff even you don't approve of—and you were someone that sticks themselves into your own head, thank you very much.
So when this man started to gain the audacity to insult Ganyu, you knew you had to step up and do something. No one, and you quite mean it, was going to insult her and get away with it.
"Hey!" You came out from your hiding spot (you're the Almighty Creator, you know it'll make the situation worse). "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"
Xin Cheng pales at the sight of your enraged figure. He stutters to make an excuse, but you cut him off. You're having none of it.
"Get your useless self out of here, before I decide to kick it down the mountains myself!"
To say that Ganyu was shocked that you were getting angry over a mortal was an understatement. She was beyond surprised that you even stood up for her.
But she did have to intervene with your threatening—after all, she is still an Adeptus. Protecting the people of Liyue was still her duty.
"Your Grace...Please let him go. I'm sure he already understands his mistake." Ganyu's soft voice only made your anger increase—she sounded so upset!
"Y-yes, please, Your Grace! I understand what I've done wrong, I—"
"Silence." You glare down at the mortal. Your turn back to Ganyu, and considered your choices. While you wanted to wreck absolute vengeance on this man, you also didn't want to hurt Ganyu's feelings more.
Guess you were going down Trauma Lane, then. You sigh, and stomp your feet as you turn around to glare at Xin Cheng, catching his petite form by surprise.
"If I ever see you do this again..." Your eyes narrow. "Believe me when I say it—you will be granted no mercy by any adeptus nor Rex Lapis himself. Now SCRAM!" With that, he was running for the hills. You weren't entirely satisfied, but you'll take it. For now.
What would Happen if Ganyu heard you get insulted? Well, first of all, she would gasp quietly to herself. What was this blasphemy? She's utterly horrified.
Ganyu thinks she might faint once she realizes you were nearby, checking out vendor goods next to where the gossipers were spilling terrible insults of your image.
"Y-Your Grace! Please accept my apology on behalf of the people of Liyue." Will literally run up to you and apologize for them. While she may not be the one who did it, she's still cares about the People of Liyue—and thus her reasoning as to why she's askign for the mercy of the Almighty Creator.
Your puzzled look turns to Ganyu. "Who are you apologizing for?" Ganyu blinks.
"The, uhm—the gossipers..?" You're still confused, until your eyes shine once recognition hits you like Truck-Kun.
"Ohhh, those dudes! Yeah, don't worry about them—they're pretty boring, saying the same thing like a broken record. Say—wanna shop with me? I'm paying, of course."
And that's how you got Ganyu to be more comfortable around you! :D
Bennett
Ah, our unlucky yet optimistic adventurer! This boy—he is good. He's cool, and he's rather awed by most of the kids in Mondstadt.
He was hanging out with Razor and Fischl when someone decides to insult him. this genuinely upsets him—after all, they were insulting his ability and his position in the Adventurer's Guild...
Already, Razor and Fischl were already up to defend him, but what they didn't expect is for the Almighty Creator (aka you) got to it first.
"I beg your pardon," you say through gritted teeth. "How exactly is having a bad luck aura got to do with ANYTHING related to being an adventurer?" You're glaring so many daggers you could practically say you were breaking all the walls. "Perhaps we'll see just how lucky you are when I send you to Dragon Spine and watch your dead corpses FREEZE TO DEATH?"
The insulters were paling the more you went on. Razor and Fischl aren't sure what to do—you're already there, dealing with the situation.
But Bennett? Well uh, like usual, his bad luck got the best of him, and he accidentally stumbles towards you (miraculously). He bumps into you, and you shift your gaze onto him.
"Uh—Sorry, Your Grace! I really didn't mean to bump into you, I swear!" Poor guy is scared because his bad luck affected him at the worst time of all. He thinks he might get killed.
You though? Oh, hell nah. Your gaze already soften, and you decided to show favoritism! You pull the boy into a hug, glaring at the insulters one more time as a warning to scram, before you go back to enjoying giving the boy affection!
But when Bennett hears you get insulted? Well, first of all, screw his bad luck because the insulters were quite literally telling him how bad of a Creator you were!
He immediately tries to avoid getting too deep into the discussion, trying to sway the topic elsewhere to no avail, and he pales when he realizes you were literally a few steps away from them!
And it seems his bad luck gets in the way again, because you just turned right as he was staring at you with shocked eyes!
However, instead of being mad, you were actually beaming when you see him. You wave at Bennett, smiling.
"Bennett! Help me choose some flowers, yeah?"
"Uhm—uh, Sure, Your Grace!"
And that's how the insulters were hiding in their homes for the rest of their lives as you merrily dragged Bennett out of that horrendous conversation.
Nilou
Honestly, do I need to say who decided to insult this amazing dancer?
Yes, it was fricking Azar again. What is up with this crazy old man, nobody knows. Perhaps you should put him in prison for a while until he's gained a sense of appreciation for the Arts. ALL of the Arts.
Apparently, when you had drilled fear into this man, he thought it only applied to flipping Nahida. As much as you love Nahida, you are not going to have Azar twists your words and make it seem like you grant him permission to snark down other people—especially the people of Zubayr Theater.
So when Azar finally decides to have scholars gain the nerve to insult Nilou on behalf of his stupid brain, you (of course) just had to get yourself involved with this.
"Excuse me, but since when did you have the audacity to judge someone else's profession of art, simply because it isn't 'academic' in any way?" You spat. "Where I come from, Art courses are necessary in order to move on in your academic life." When Nilou hears you, she, first of all, is grateful of you stepping up for her, and, second of all, very scared of what might be happening next.
The scholars pale, but they seem to have taken your comment as a debate.
"With all due respect, Your Grace, the Arts are anything but educational—"
"Was I looking for a second opinion, dimwit?" You narrow your eyes. "Besides, have you yourself ever tried the Art of Dancing or the Art of Music before?"
"Well—uhm, no, but—"
"Then shut up, then." The scholars begin to panic as your voice becomes low and dangerous. "You don't have an excuse to be judgmental if you haven't even tried this stuff yourself."
"Ex-Sage Azar told us to say this!" They blurt out, and that only increases your rage. Seeing that things might escalate, Nilou steps in.
"Your Grace, let's not be too harsh!" She exclaims, waving her hands frantically. "I'm sure they understand what they did wrong. There's no need to have them punished." You narrowed your eyes in disagreement, for a half second, Nilou thought she made the situation worse.
But when you sigh heavily, she knew you relented. You glare at the scholars again.
"Tell Azar if he does this again, to ANYONE, I'll cut his head off, and there's no more excuses there. In fact—bring me to him. I'll have a talk with him myself."
Yeah, Azar got traumatized again :)
But when Nilou hears you be insulted? Quite literally behind your back? She thought she was going to faint from the gossiper's comments alone! You being there to listen it to it all only made her feel worse.
She was about to confront them, until she saw other people nearby dealing with the situation. So, Nilou decides to check up and see if you were okay...After all, those comments weren't nice.
She was pretty shocked when she realized you were contemplating over wares instead, completely unbothered by the drama going on behind your back. Nevertheless, she was still going to apologize in case you were just hiding your emotions.
"Uhm, Your Grace—I would like to apologize on behalf of all of Zubayr Theater. We should've done something earlier." You look at her, confused.
"What are you apologizing for, Nilou?" You ask. She blinks.
"Uhm, the gossipers, Your Grace..?" Your eyes widen, before you bark a laugh.
"Oh, those dudes! Yeah—don't worry about them, honestly. Say—help me pick: should I get hot chocolate or tea from this lovely store?"
Let's just say you had a fun time hanging out with Nilou for the rest of the afternoon :)
AND THAT'S IT! WE ARE DONE! I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE AND TAKING 30+ YEARS TO FINISH THIS, BUT IT'S HERE! :D I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!
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Ghost Rebel Side Notes: To anyone who's waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia, yes I have been writing on it. However, due to personal life problems and other IRL circumstances, it's taking a little longer than expected. I am sorry, everyone!
✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦
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adoregojo · 2 months
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after decades, I finally write a fic about hiroi, even if it was a little short and mid at least it's something d: i love his character sosososos much even if he was a little hard to write mwah mwah i still love pretty boys. warnings: cussing. mention of needles. tattoo artist!reader, karasu being a third wheel. hiroi being a lovesick bastard, karasu basically suffering throughout the fic.
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"what are we even doing here?" karasu's question goes upon death ears, suddenly he regrets tagging along in this.
it was like 8:49 at night, the crow head had his plans ready and set up just for hiori to barge in and drag him to a half hour drive to some tattoo studio on a an unfamiliar street he never stepped a foot on. this should consider kidnapping, he knew he should've screamed out of the window when he had the chance.
however he gotta admit the place didn't look half bad, it was well styled and didn't reek of smoke like expected, it even whiffed of fragrance. black painted walls and some hanged pieces of art, whoever chose them have a good taste. but being the smartass he is, karasu knew that whatever reason hiori was here for, was definitely not for a tattoo.
it was obvious even a blind one could get it, the cyan head had to take a few breathers out and in before opening the door. he didn't like that foolish smile that stayed glued to his face all the way here, and doesn't his cheeks hurt from beaming that damn long? like he didn't make the same remark of him smirking day and night, fucking hypocrite.
and what he didn't like most of all was how he kept overlooking him all that time, basically neglecting whatever doubts that pushed out his lips.
it's someone or something that was definitely dancing on his mind all night long. that explains why have he been coming to the dorms late at nights for the past weeks, he didn't even pat an eye to the class he missed. karasu was starting to think he was being hold hostage at once.
the crow male watch as he entered what he can guess it's where people sit on a chair and getting brutally needled by a an unbothered tattooer, that looked like it hurts like a bitch if you ask him. and when hiori sat down comfortably on a stuffed couch like it was his own home, he had enough.
"ye better answer me before i slam that stupid smile you have on ya face." karasu threat, showing his mettle and irritation just for his cyan friend to pat on the empty space beside him. karasu could feel his hair white, just what the hell was he getting on.
he sat down anyway, his hands deep in his pockets. the couch was awfully too comfy. he needs to ask for this brand, after beating hiori's ass of course. maybe he'll park his car in the place where birds shat on daily for a pay back, sounds like a plan.
"soooo, ya speaking or not, shithead?"
"be a good friend and shut yer yap, please?" that's the first thing he says tonight, and still with that put-off smile.
"yea, no wonder ya got only one friend." his remark was left hanging in the air. karasu had to physically clench his fist to a ball before he actually make hiori give the tile floor a very loving kiss.
his cyan hues were transformed to another direction, the path where a middle aged man was on the shelf of tears and the tattoo artist trying to hand them a piece of sooth. it was an embarrassing sight, and a situation to be put in. he had a knowledge of hiori being a little into drama but this better not be what he was brought up for.
however, that wasn't what hiori's eyes was on, if he looked closely, his sights were sat on the tattooist themselves, and that ogle was the definition of being absolute dotty and smitten, hiroi's ears were tipsy and he looked like he was about burst out the universe from his chest. disgusting is you asked karasu.
fucking hell, hirori had the fattest crush on the tattoo artist and he had to sit there and watch him grew enamoredly over them by the second.
you were literally in a misery of a situation, sweat running downhill your forehead, your locks were messy and out of place. and his friend over here eyes about to glow out in a shade of hearts like you were the only one to look at. he seriously wanted to throw up at this makeshift k-drama, he'd even throw tomatoes if he can.
he wondered what mistake he owned the university for to make him sit down there for the next hour with sniffing echoes throughout the walls and the annoying noises of that coil will definitely haunt him in his dreams. did he mention that he wasn't having a good time?
finally that man took his leave, mumbling apologies over and over his way before weaving over at you. this was the call of freedom, the door was calling him, seducing him with it blazing light to go through it and take his leave because he was dead serious when he say that he doesn't feel his butt no more.
"hiroi? is that you?"
have mercy on him.
you walked up to them, karasu doesn't know if it was hallucination taking over him but he could hear his friend's rabid heart pounding louder than ever by every step you take, he really thought another foot step would give a heart attack.
he doesn't think twice before standing up to greet you. "hi." hiori's reply came out clumsily, his eyes revolving around every corner of the room but your figure.
"hello, hello. did you finally decide to a get a tattoo?" you tilted your head slightly. he shook his head in response, "not yet, I actually came here for you." he admitted, you fix your posture quickly. playing with your fingers timidly behind your back, a failed attempt to hide the affect of his words.
"well, are you willing to wait a few hours before a finish this shift?" you asked jokingly, flashing your lashes rabidly. you could feel his gaze burning on you, drinking on your every move and every feature, detailed and craved to his mind.
"I'll wait for whatever long if that means seeing you." hiroi cooed, when did that girlish dude become a sappy one? as if he was finding pure joy in seeing you all red-faced and shrinking. you chuckle in response, raising your hand in attempt to places the hair locks back to it place. you definitely looked hideous right now, yet he kept his dreamy pairs on you only.
gently, he takes your hand his. slowly and timed in case you felt uncomfortable, it fitted perfectly, made for him to hold. the urge to lock your fingers together was tight. flipping your hand then he opened your gloved palm that was pained after the hour of holding the coil. hiori reaches for his pocket to site a piece of warped up candies. your favourites.
you stare at him, almost as if asking him without the need of words. "you mentioned that your jar run out of candy, so I brought you some. if you wanted i can refill it for you." he says, still looking at your still warped up in his hand. it bloomed him with unexplained warmth.
a burst of butterflies swirls in your stomach, he was close, almost leaning over your face that you could feel his suffuse mint breath tickling your skin. "that's so... thoughtful of you, hiroi. you're too kind."
"only for you."
what the fuck is he witnessing.
you two were literally making-out in front of karasu, and he was this close to bawling his eyes out. he seriously considered what on earth did he have done to deserve witnessing his friend being all lovey-dovey with a hot tattooist, is the consequence of him being friends with otoya finally catching him?
his blue bare of eyes sae as hiori pointed his finger at at him, "actually he wants to get a tattoo."
he was what now?
"wait wha-"
"and he'd like to do it anytime soon."
he couldn't actually believe this, absolute backstabbed. his what he considered a friend was basically setting him up just so he can spend time with his crush. just what the hell, what kind of betrayal is this, he got sat up brutally by the last person he expected from.
your eyes traveled to karasu's jaw dropped face. you didn't even notice him until hiori pointed him out. "oh, I'm sorry it's packed up today. i can set him for someone else if you want to." you suggested.
"no, i only trust you to do that." hiori didn't rethink before saying that, your eyes widened at him. he always managed to caught you off guard with his genuine sugar-coating words.
"if you insist, i have an empty seat tomorrow."
"I'll make sure we'll be there. and it's his first time, be gentle with him, kay?"
"I'll make sure to." you assured him, patting him on his arm. he held himself back from jolting at your nails digging his skin through the fabric of his sweater. it was soft, something that he isn't quite used to. and it lingered longer than it was supposed to when you lifted it off.
you take a piece of rolled up paper and stuff it into his pocket, "my number, call when you need." you say, eyes shifting between the floor and hiori's own, kicking your feet from side to side. while he couldn't take his off you. like blinking would make you disappear and slip away forever.
he knew he was taking advantage of karasu, and he was all ready for the consequences of it all if it mean spending any more seconds alongside with you. he promise to cherish it and held it deep within the depths of his soul. he promised to make it to him later, but now he was just too drowned to care, too intoxicated to think about anything beside of you.
"how about i go bring you some dinner? and we'll-"
"FUCK NO!" Karasu finally snapped.
in a blink of an eye, hiori was being harshly pulled by his behind collar, "we're are going home, and that's final!" karasu shouted as he dragged the cyan head who kept on reaching his hand uselessly towards you. he couldn't protect himself before he was already out of the store then thrown carelessly into the passenger seat.
the crow slammed the car door grimly, warping the safety belt then driving off like there was no tomorrow. not giving hiori a time to get a grip of himself. a pregnant silence fall on them, and he couldn't careless when he felt a burning glare on his head, if looks could kill, karasu would've been dead thousands of times.
"fucking cockbloker."
"oh, zip it you sadistic bitch."
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study math? no, write for hiori? hell yea
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yutas-girlfriend · 8 months
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megumi x reader oneshot
you and megumi get into an argument about your safety.
warnings: nothing too nsfw, makeout, yelling
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looking him dead in the eyes, without a hint of hesitation, you notice his eyes flare like a fire being fed with gasoline. his jaw clenches and he swiftly grabs your wrist urgently and begins stomping away. a look of confusion and excitement spreads accross your face as the rest of the group begins to chatter once more.
you’ve always known how to press megumis buttons. hes an easy target, practically anything can annoy him to the point of snapping, and you fed off it. you were an excellent fighter both physically and with words, and so was megumi. you fought day in and day out since your return to jujutsu tech, but this was different. this was not a normal friend fight. the only thing you didn’t enjoy arguing about was your safety. he was no saint, definitely a rule breaker, but not in a way that would jeopardize his ability to see you again. you on the other hand, were a rule breaker without many boundaries. you often found yourselves fighting about the situations you got yourself into, and the possible danger.
he dragged you into the nearest classroom and sat down on one of the few desks. it was dark, with only the sunset shining through the windows. you wanted to get this over with, it was getting late now. you begin rubbing your temples, as he exhales sharply.
“i just dont want you to get hurt. you have to understand where im coming from, don’t you?“ he says sharply, looking at your face once more.
“i never said i didn’t understand, but i’m fine. i always am. name one time i’ve been seriously hurt.” the words sting as they come out of your mouth. you already know whats coming next. he huffs, and a small sarcastic chuckle leaves him.
“name one? just one fucking time of the hundreds youve been seriously injured? are you kidding me?” he begins standing and walking towards you, stopping a few inches from your face. “i didnt see you for months because you went on that stupid mission that almost got you killed! ” he says loudly. “what about the time you decided to be a hero and go back for that woman? or the time you jumped in front of me? you are lucky to be alive.” he says pointing at you as he stares daggers into your eyes. you’re no pussy, so you stand staring back at him, not breaking eye contact for a second. he’s breathing heavily, his arms hanging loosely. your pissed, but even when the rage he fuels you with is flowing in your veins, you have to admit hes beautiful. he has a tall, slender but purely muscular frame. his jet black hair is messy but purposely, it sits softly framing his face. his bright eyes gleam in the sun light, as the bright beams bounce around the room, reflecting off the perfectly polished button on his jacket. but by far, one of his best features, were his lips. never dry, always perfectly plump and a soft pink colour, even though he bit them when he was angry, uncomfortable or nervous. you allow yourself a swift momentary glance at his lips. his breathing hitches for a moment. shit. he noticed. he looks at yours. shit. hes still breathing as if hes angry, the rage from before still sitting with you both. you continue breathing heavily and staring at each other, but the anger is slowly fading. it seems to be replaced by something else, something deeper. lust?
in the blink of an eye, he grips your face from above as he steps forwards and kisses you roughly. you grip the sides of his neck as you continue. he moves his hands slowly downward to your hips as you press yourself to his chest. you pull closer and suck his lip gently, clearly igniting something within him. you place your leg upwards towards his hip as he moves his hands to your thighs, lifting you up and onto the counter by the wall. he moves his hands to your hips and pulling you closer to him. you grab his hair in your hand, pulling his face as close as it could possibly be to your own. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull his hips against your own. he kisses you harder, and you let out a small hum at the feeling.
suddenly, he pulls his mouth from yours, a string of saliva between you. he looks drunk, eyes droopy and hair messy. he kisses you one more, but softer, much more tender this time. he holds your face in his hands and you place your own over top. he pulls away once more and rests his forehead against your own. “please be careful,” he mumbles, placing his face in the crook of your neck. your hands find his again, and you turn your head slightly so he can hear. “i’ll try,” you say quietly back.
he lets out a sigh of relief.
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divineei · 4 months
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TOOTM  one. to keep a promise
! ko kyungjun x fem!reader
a/n. this shit took so long omfg. whoever said writing was easy can suck my nonexistent left nutsack.
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"i don't get why this is even a discussion."
"oh, cmon! you don't think the conflict around it is interesting?"
"whether its interesting or not doesn't matter because this shouldn't be an existing argument. if your partner or someone you love commits a murder and there's serious evidence pointing back to them, how could you just act like it's not even there?"
"dude, you're missing the point entirely. the question is not about what you would do in that situation, it's about what you should believe."
"that's so stupid. the only factor you should need is evidence. it doesn't matter if the accused is a long time friend, your partner, or even your child. sure, your judgment on their character is still relevant, but if their fingerprints were found at the crime scene there's just no way you can objectively ignore their culpability. at that point, you should either believe your partner is guilty or at best remain undecided."
"in that case, would you say that following the evidence is morally required?"
"absolutely."
"you don't think there might be other ethical factors to consider?"
"for example?"
"even though the evidence is strong, there's still a chance they might not be guilty. imagine how it would feel like to be innocent and have no one believe you, not even your own partner! by not supporting them you run the risk of seriously hurting them on a crucial time of need. and consider what this lack of trust would do to your relationship. could you really go on after seriously suspecting–and believing–they're a murderer?"
"are you saying you'd rather ignore the crimes of your partner, even when the truth is staring you in the face, just for the sake of love?"
outside of the ethical dilemma resonating through yoon yn's headphones, the girl shifted around on her seat. her limbs felt numb from remaining unmoving for so long and, even though the only companion by her side was her bag, the compact space paid no mercy on her back. 
after finding a comfortable position she set her eyes on the view outside the window. sunlight hued over the fields of grass and the occasional farm, making the rural landscape imitate a painting in motion shaped by the most gentle brush strokes. the scene felt so engrossingly peaceful, she could almost feel the gale caressing her features despite the glass separating her from the world. 
yn couldn't help but thank the scene–and the long lasting battery of her headphones–for giving her something to focus on, seeing as the ride to the resort her class was directed towards had resulted to be such an otherwise tiresome one. 
"YES!"
an obnoxious voice popped yn's bubble in spite of the maximum volume she'd set for her podcast. distracted by the sound she turned to glance at the very back of the bus, where the students grouped up at the last row of leathered seats frowned in unison at heo yool–who mocked them with the cheekiest grin one could imagine. judging by their sullen looks, yn figured the citizens had lost yet another round of mafia, a game they'd been playing for who knows how long.
she recalled when her classmates had urged her to join the game the moment she stepped into the bus, which she declined, prioritizing her tranquility over the headache she knew they'd give her, yet promising she'd join in the next time. 
after figuring out the source of that ruckus yn set her focus back on her podcast, purposely missing the eyes of the guy she'd been avoiding to the best of her abilities for days now.
just a few rows behind her, kyung jun's eyes never left yn as she disappeared between the sea of heads flooding the bus, and his scheme of intentionally leaving the space by his side unoccupied for her came to mind, especially remembering how his grand plan backfired when that fucking basketball-star-wannabe gave up his seat for her.
that annoying prick just couldn't get the memmo, couldn't he? to him, hyun ho had always been a nuisance; a pest that treaded on yn's heels at every chance he got–even when she used to hang onto the feared delinquent's arm.
"they're so loud," kyung jun muttered. he'd been trying to settle down the bittersweet echoes of his mind since the start of that damned school trip, in vain, since the blaring voices behind him made the flare that was his temper even harder to quell than any of those memories.
luckily, he needn't lift a single finger to make the commotion stop, and he was able to get some peace of mind thanks to his lackeys acting as spokesmen for his aggravation. 
on the other side of the large vehicle, kim so mi sneakily took pictures of the class president. 
"hey look, isn't he gorgeous?" the vice president called, showing what was sure to be one of her new favorite pictures to her friends seated behind: park ji soo, cha yoo joon and park woo ram. "doesn't this belong in a magazine? how can he look so gorgeous?" so mi repeated with a dreamy sigh, looking at her screen.
"i will tell jun hee tomorrow that you took a photo of him," woo ram threatened with a playful smile.
"oh yeah? what if i tell yn about all the videos you have?" so mi replied, pointing at the camera that always hanged around the guy's neck. 
"please do, maybe i'll finally seduce her."
"oh my god," exclaimed yoo joon, "you are so delusional."
"why?" he lifted one of his hands in response to the very serious offense.
"dude, you barely talk to her."
"woo ram, you have the same chances of getting with yn as me and yoo joon of breaking up." ji soo stated.
the guy in mention glanced at his girlfriend, seemingly unaware of the joke. "that's zero, right?" question to which ji soo only rolled her eyes.
"i don't care what you say," woo ram brushed off. "i know she's the love of my life."
"ko kyung jun!" called out so mi.
like a tiny animal trying to save itself from a threatening predator, woo ram jumped to the empty seat by his side, hiding from the vandal's peripheral as much as possible while the rest of his companions laughed.
"fuck, kim so mi!" he cried out, "you trying to get me killed?"
"relax, he's not even looking," revealed the vice president with a cheeky smile.
as if they'd rehearsed it, the four students turned around to catch ko kyung jun's eyes still set on yoon yn, and by the looks of it, he didn't have any plans to cease his staring.
"not seeing them together is kinda weird," yoo joon pointed out.
"does anyone know why they broke up?" so mi asked to her peers, who all looked at each other expecting an answer none of them had.
"whatever," dismissed ji soo, "yn is better off without him anyway."
"yeah, she's been around us a lot more since then." agreed so mi.
"i bet kyung jun barely let her talk to us."
"right? he looks like the controlling type."
"i would never treat her like that." acknowledged woo ram, making his way back into the conversation only to get beaten back down by the three others.
the time inside the bus seemed to work differently than the rest of the world. minutes and hours mixed up in a disorienting spectacle that at least seemed to follow the sun setting over the horizon. 
when they finally arrived to the resort, the only source of light were the numerous lamps adorning the streets and the inviting shine of the building before them.
with the bus door finally opened, the students of class 2-3 thronged the exit with overwhelming excitement. the trip had been longer that the teacher had promised and everyone was ready to get comfortable on their temporary rooms. of course, that included yn, who unfortunately had to wait for the rest of her classmates to take their suitcases out of the loaded trunk since her luggage ended up dropping to the back during the ride.
after everyone collected their belongings, the girl was able to retrieve her case at last. it was somewhat heavy but the tiny wheels at the bottom made it easier for her to slide the valise out of the bus' compartment. taking out the retractable handle, yn rolled her suitcase for at most six steps before someone else got ahold of it.
"what are you doing?" she questioned, but the guy simply walked away while pulling her luggage along and up the stairs.
"kyung jun." 
at the sound of his name, he stopped. walking towards him, yn stood right between the entrance and the suitcase-stealer. 
"what do you think? i'm helping you."
"i can do it myself." yn chided, staring him down harshly.
kyung jun had received many looks like that one throughout his life. from parents, teachers, students... they were all identical, ranging from disappointment to resentment and back. he was used to it. it was his day to day, how could he not be? yet he never imagined the same eyes that used to watch him with so much endearment would scrutinize him so cruelly. 
"you used to love when i carried your stuff." he reminded her, scanning yn's face for a spec of something–anything–he hoped could save him from the pain her gaze struck him with.
the girl let out an exasperated sigh. why couldn't he leave her be? why was it that, no matter how much she wanted to distance herself, he always found a way to squeeze back into her life? 
yn grabbed the handle of her suitcase and pulled. she wanted to leave, to get away from his side and free herself of his piercing eyes. unfortunately his strength surpassed hers, and she was forced to stay as he kept his grip.
"can you let go?" 
"yn," he asked but the girl just focused on the luggage he kept hostage. "can we talk?"
"about what?" she sneered, speaking with as much disdain her troubled feelings allowed.
"you know what." 
once again, she sighed. his antics were so infuriating; always pushing down the barrier she tried to put between the two. 
"not now."
"then when?" he instantly snapped back, then took a deep breath to stop his grating tone. "you always say that but then you ignore me for days."
"look, i don't have time for this." for the second time, she attempted to retrieve her case. "i promised i'd help with the preparations for the class picture, so–"
"oh, c'mon," and still, he pulled back. "since when do you care about this school-spirit-bullshit?"
he was right, yn never involved herself with whatever activities the school came up with. time and time again, they'd skipped so many classes as to not get involved with all those school projects they both deemed as meaningless, deciding to spend their mornings strolling around parks and nearby shopping districts instead. but that wasn't an option anymore, and yn needed some way to blurr the images that kept torturing her with the agonizing nostalgia of a broken relationship.
"promise me we'll talk. tonight." 
"sure," for the third time, she attempted to take back her luggage. but his answer was the same.
"no, yn. promise me."
with every fiber of her being, yn summoned the last shreds of her patience and met his gaze. his eyes held her captive, beseeching her in silence to unravel the troubles he was willing to share with no one but her, and the hypnotic pull of his gaze weakened her willpower to resist.
"i promise." she reluctantly gave in.
as kyung jun finally released the carry-on, yn didn't even bat an eye before snatching it up and walking away. however, as she made her way into the resort center, she couldn't help but feel frustrated with herself for falling for his tricks. all the effort she had put into avoiding him seemed to have gone down the drain so quickly, leaving her feeling defeated.
not wanting kyung jun to catch up to her, yn rushed inside the building. 
warm lights illuminated the vast entrance, composed by a lounge area with leathered sofas that accentuated the beige walls with brighter colors and a water dispenser conveniently placed next to the cushioned seats. at the center, a beautiful statue engulfed by faint blue lighting towered over everything below. the perfectly crafted marble giant was impossible to miss, looking like a still guardian watching over the resort's grounds. yet that didn't stop yn from overlooking the sign with the qr code needed for the resort's wifi and facility app.
following the arrows pointing out the way towards the elevator, yn got in and pressed the button labeled dormitories. the heavy doors slid and shut before the steel cage trembled, signaling its vertical movement. suddenly, the girl felt the air tighten inside her chest, twisting her lungs in a way that seemed to strangle them. oxygen got caught up in her throat as images of cables snapping and an imminent fall to her death plagued her mind. in, out, in, out. yn's breath increased as rapidly as tidal waves when the lights malfunctioned and in between flickers, she saw a dark figure out of the corner of her eye. 
the moment she snapped her head back to take a look, a faint bell announced the door sliding open. taking in the air as steadily as she could, yn grabbed her suitcase and escaped the cage of death. frightened and disoriented, she questioned if what just concurred has been a quick fever dream or reality. and if it wasn't, why did her mind torture her like that? as far as she knew, never in her life had she experienced something that'd cause this crippling fear of high spaces. so why...?
she shook her head and brushed off the uncanny feeling, dismissing it as a consequence from the tiresome trip and forcing herself to focus on finding the room she shared with ahn na hee and kim so mi, who'd invited her with overwhelming coercion. compared to the elevator ride, figuring out her way to her dormitory was a piece of cake. the girl left her stuff in an empty corner and took the stairs down towards the gymnasium. there, instead of getting scolded by the teacher like she expected, what greeted her was a plethora of different activities performed by her classmates. 
in the middle of the room, a group of students flawlessly danced to the rhythm of the songs reverberating from a large speaker, followed by lee joo young and choi mi na silently fighting for the spotlight, and being interrupted by ko kyung jun, who apparently had nothing better to do than to mess with their practice by turning off the music while his two loyal followers, shin seung bin and kim jin ha, played a very dedicated match of ping-pong.
on opposite corners of the gym, jin da bum, choi joo won, lee yoon seo and oh jung won were consecutively separated in two pairs, all conversing with their respective best friends. up on the second floor, cha yoo joon and park ji soo, who never seemed to stay away from each other, watched from above. on the stage, band members im eun chan, nam yeon woo and baek eun ha dabbled with their instruments to make sure everything was perfectly in tune. lastly, jang hyun ho and kim dong hyun busied themselves by organizing all the sport equipment laying around.
"yoon yn!" called kim jun hee from a large set of tables surrounded by the other members of the student council which, of course, included kim so mi and her friend ahn na hee.
with no sight of their teacher around yn walked stress-free to said table, although not before catching park woo ram pointing his camera right at her, which made the guy hastily turning to film someone else. 
"you're here," the class president stated. "we thought you got lost or something."
"sorry, i got caught up with something." yn replied. she didn't really care about these preparations, but she did promise to help, and yn wasn't the type to use that word lightly.
"yeah! i was going to text you but we've been so busy preparing everything." so mi ranted, sprinkling salt into the wound.
"i can see that," yn commented, deciding to ignore so mi's backhanded scolding.
"what happened, though? did you really get lost?" na hee asked. 
"no, i got stopped by kyung jun."
"oh, right. he was a bit late too now that I think about it."
"is that jackass bothering you again?" hyun ho, who'd come closer to the table just as yn approached, joined in and put a hand on her shoulder.
"no," yes. "everything's fine."
truth be told, yn would rather drop dead than having to deal with kyung jun. however, she knew that telling her classmates about it wouldn't lead to a positive outcome. after all, the only person who had the courage to confront the delinquent was hyun ho, and, given their history, yn was certain his involvement would only make matters worse.
in another area of the bustling gym, the noticeable trio of vandals were causing a ruckus in the corner. as they tossed a basketball back and forth, jin ha hurled the ball at kyung jun, who was too busy gawking at yn's arrival to notice. the ball smacked him right in the chest–a painful reminder of how his focus seemed to always follow after her. 
"shit, my bad!" jin ha exclaimed.
their leader squatted to grab the ball at his feet and got back up only for his gaze to fix back towards the girl who constantly distracted him and, of-fucking-course, hyun ho standing right next to her, as always. the sight made his blood boil and his knuckles turn white as he clenched the basketball in his hands, while his rapid heartbeats deafened any coherent thought telling him to settle down.
seeing this, jin ha and seung bin looked at each other before the latter sighed and came closer to his friend. throwing one arm around his shoulders, he spoke:
"why don't we go outside, man? get your head out the gutter."
"yeah," kyung jun agreed, seeing seung bin was clearly trying his best to support him. perhaps he was right, some air would probably do him good right now. "let's go." was the last thing he said before disappearing through the gymnasium's exit, just in time to miss the teacher entering from the other side.
after informing the class presidents about a problem regarding the other bus full of students set to accompany them on this field trip, he left, clearly in a panic because of the unexpected turn of events.
in the meantime, most of class 2-3 remained in the gymnasium. no more than a few minutes went by before the dancing group, who now were fixing their hair and makeup while sitting on the floor, called yn over. ever since they found out about her break up, the girls had been offered her to go out again and again, an opportunity they took to invite her to join their club with not-so-subtle comments. 
"oh yn, you should hang out with us more!" were the kind of utterances she always received from the class' cheerleaders.
mi na had insisted on brushing yn's hair. taking the empty stop in front of her classmate, she felt the bristles effortlessly flowing through the roots of her hair to its ends. the conversation was an amicable one. the girls often taking their time to butter up yn and saying how cool it'd be to have her in their club–until the self proclaimed hairdresser decided to dive into something she'd been curious about.
"hey yn."
"yeah?" she answered, eyes closed while enjoying the soothing sensation of the hairbrush.
"why did you and kyung jun brake up?"
mi na found herself at a loss for words when she faced the disapproving and critical stares of the entire group. why would you ask that? their glares yelled in silence, making her feel like she just made a terrible mistake.
"that's between him and i, mi na." yn abruptly ended the change of topic.
why did they break up? that's a question she'd been asked countless times ever since her classmates took note of their separation. a query yn remembered avoiding like a plague, long before this trip. only this time, a strange, guttural discomfort buried into every corner of her brain as she noticed a spec of something missing, unable to put together if the same evasion came as a reflex or because she couldn't answer it herself.
"right," mi na's shame, reinforced by the brutal glares of the other girls, took over her face as her cheeks flushed. "sorry."
luckily for her, just as her face morphed into a cherry tomato, a painful ringing roared through the speakers before the absence of light engulfed the high schoolers in deep darkness.
"c'mon! what is this?" one said.
"what's going on?" asked another.
"hey, turn the lights on!" resonated a voice from above.
a loud clang similar to a metal pipe hitting a hard surface echoed over the four walls, followed by the piercing shrieks of several people. helping themselves with the flashlights provided by their phones, the students revealed a white figure in the middle of the room.
"quit joking around." before any more screeches could be heard, hyun ho launched a basketball to the sheeted ghost, making it fall to the ground just as pathetically as your average cartoon villain.
with the precision of a well-rehearsed act, the room was suddenly lit up, revealing the mischievous culprit behind the childish prank. and lo and behold, it was none other than heo yool.
the collection of complaints from everybody present synced in a perfect expression of annoyance and the occasional insult. 
"guys, listen carefully." the class clown™ gathered his classmates' attention as he stood from the ground. "i've heard that, a long time ago, a high school girl killed herself here," he explained, playing the role of a surprisingly talented storyteller. "so there's a few things you should never do: don't look at the mirror and turn around at midnight. and if someone grabs your ankle when you're sleeping, don't look down. if you break these rules," he turned to the group of dancers. "a ghost will pop up!" dashing towards them with the form of a rogish halloween scare actor, he was met with the frightened squeals of the girls.
yn, whose interest in the paranormal had never been deep enough to scare her, grabbed mi na's hairbrush and hurled it towards heo yool. an action that encouraged the rest of the class to throw everything they had at hand, along with some despicable remarks and the teasing laugh of the insufferable rascal.
defeated by heo yool's stunts, the students decided they've had enough as one by one they exited the gym. 
"are you coming, yn?" so mi asked.
the girl nodded before answering, "i'll be there in a minute. i want to get some water first."
at the entrance, so mi and yn parted ways. she approached the water dispenser and took one of the cardboard cups provided by the machine. ever since the lights of the gymnasium had turned off, the girl noticed an unusual taste in her mouth that reminded her of her frightening fever dream at the elevator. she felt it at the back of her neck: something eerily creeping behind her at every given moment. was it possible that heo yool's story actually got under her skin? trying to brush off the uncanny sensation, yn took a sip from the refreshment in her hand.
"yn!" 
the call startled her, making the water get caught up in her throat. she coughed and patted her own chest as the liquid scraped its way down her larynx, like a tiny bug trying to escape a spider's web. once able to compose herself, yn glanced towards the voice.
"im so sorry!" joo won panicked in a stutter, "i didn't mean to do that, are you ok?"
"im fine." she wiped the water from her lips with her long sleeve. 
joo won and his companion standing behind, da bum, stared at her in silence.
"do you want anything or...?" 
a simultaneous no and a yes echoed trough the entrance, followed by a confused frown from the girl and whatever silent conversation the two guys were displaying with their eyes. 
"do you think maybe you could," joo won took his sweet time to mutter his next words, as if scared. "talk with kyung jun?"
"excuse me?"
what the fuck...? did kyung jun put them up to this?
"we just, well," the spokesman of the duo halted. "we gave some money to his friends a few days ago and we just don't want to bother them."
oh.
"so you bother me?" 
"no, no!" da bum spoke promptly and grabbed his friend's arm, pulling him along as he took a few steps to leave. "it's ok, yn. we won't bother you."
joo won released himself from da bum's grasp and walked towards yn. "please," he pleaded, holding one of her hands tightly with both of his. "he'll listen to you."
right as her heart started beating with enough sympathy to care for their situation, the front door opened. seung bin, jin ha and kyung jun walked into the building, the latter playing around with a basketball.
the three delinquents would've kept their saunter if it weren't for yn's presence, which made the group's top dog stop in his tracks. his companions did the same and all stared at the situation unfolding right in front of them. kyung jun's eyes stayed on the hands holding yn and after noticing his threatening glare, joo won leaped away from her.
"what's going on?" asked the fearful leader.
"you owe them money?" yn countered, her eyes flickering between the trio.
"what?" the blonde one laughed, brushing off the accusation. 
"they do!" joo won blamed, but instantly went back to his helpless self when met with the bullies' threatening scowls. "please, i just need it for my tuition."
the firm glare of the girl pierced through the tough act of the tamer vandal, making him drop his facade as he approached the feeble boy, closed fist in the air.
"fuck, man! we're on retreat, why are you asking us for money now?"
"yeah," seung bin joined in, defending his friend. "what are you, a loan shark? we told you we'd give you interests. give us some time, dipshit!"
kyung jun, who'd only taken the role of observer until that moment, put down the basketball he held and intervened to slap both of his lackeys' heads. "did you do sports betting again? huh?"
like scolded puppies, seung bin and jin ha faced the floor as they stepped aside.
"da bum," he called, and the guy lifted his head to stare at the bully. "did you lend them money too?"
"huh?" as kyung jun stalked closer, da bum's heart raced faster with every step. his eyes frantically scanned the room, desperately seeking any distraction from the intimidating figure slowly closing in on him. "yes. but i can wait for my money. there's no rush." with a lump in his throat, da bum braced himself for whatever was coming next.
"how much?" kyung jun's open hand grabbed the side of da bum's face, forcing the terrified boy to look right at him. "ill pay you back."
"you will?" da bum stuttered.
"of course," his grin turned into something sinister, which allowed only da bum to see because of their proximity. "in return play basketball with me, yeah?"
he faintly smacked his victim's face twice before coming up to yn. "everything's alright here, yn. see? no need for this." kyung jun reached out to hold her hand but she pulled away before any contact could be made. 
was she really so revolted by him she wouldn't even let him touch her? accepting his defeat, kyung jun hid his hands inside his jacket's pockets. 
"right," yn looked at da bum and joo won, who were currently being pushed around by the other two, before turning back to kyung jun. "in that case, i'll get going." 
"you're not coming with me?" just as yn started to walk away, his words pulled her back in.
"i'd rather not."
"are you sure?"
with a swift nod, kyung jun signaled seung bin and jin ha to go ahead and, bringing along the poor students they were about to torment, they disappeared down the hallway.
they were left alone, just like kyung jun liked it. only them, with nothing and no one around to interrupt their precious time together.
not a single second did he stop looking into her fiery eyes, which only seemed to hold a hostility that antagonized his own devoted regard.
"it's almost midnight."
both held each other's gaze, which kyung jun took as an invitation to step towards the girl. he stopped right in front of her and, unfortunately, yn's heart betrayed her mind as she internally screamed for it to cease its raising beats. 
kyung jun's hands raised to yn's face, completely forgetting her previous rejection. for a second, he thought of apologizing, since she'd made it clear time and time again how much she now despised his presence. but how could he apologize for something he was barely conscious of? he couldn't help himself, not when she was merely inches away, not with her. maybe if he insisted–if he didn't give up–she'd finally understand why staying apart was never the world's plan. 
"you promised me. remember?"
his hands were close. so close he could feel his fingertips grace her cheeks, a touch so minuscule, yet enough to make his skin crawl with anticipation. 
he was too close. 
yn stepped back just as she felt the fleeting spark. she would be dammed if she ever allowed him to touch her again, in more ways than one. or at least that's what she told herself as she fell right into another one of his tricks. kyung jun knew her well; too well for her liking. and with such measly words she found herself helplessly cornered by her own self-discipline and morals.
fucking bastard.
up in the vast dormitory area of the resort center, different groups of people were each caught up in their own conversations, without a single care in the world or the impending sinister feeling hanging over their heads like an invisible wrecking ball about to crash and destroy every single thing they ever cared for.
in her room, lee yoon seo was finally able to lose herself in her novel when her phone pinged. slightly annoyed by the distraction she took a closer look to her home screen, which displayed an app in process of downloading.
"i told you i didn't need this." she showed the screen to her roommate.
"it wasn't me." jung won answered, just as astounded.
our perspective changes and now we observe a group of various students, all gathered in one room. the class couple, the cheerleaders and members of the student council all sharing snacks and stories between them in perfect harmony until a knock interrupted. 
"come in!" allowed the vice president.
"hey guys," the door opened, reavealing hyun ho accompanied by his best friend, dong hyun, who stayed on the hallway behind him. "has anyone seen yn?"
"how come you don't know? you're always following her." mocked woo ram before taking a handful of chips from one of the various bags scattered around the room.
"you're one to talk." ji soo muttered, which provoked woo ram to throw a scrambled napkin her way.
"i'm serious." hyun ho replied, "i've tried texting her but this wifi doesn't even work."
"she told me she was going to get some water, isn't she downstairs?" just as so mi finished her sentence, one by one every phone in the room chimed.
notifications spread throughout the resort like a 14th century pandemic, resonating around every room as if imitating the never ending bells that announced the beginning of the end.
back in the gymnasium, joo won stood shaking below the basketball hoop with his friend by his side, eyes shut tight as neither dared watch the nearing hit from the ball.
"joo won, stay right there." kyung jun sneered as he prepared himself to throw. he looked up, targeting the net as he bent his knees, faked a jump, and sent the ball right into the boy's stomach.
joo won kneeled in pain, groaning and grasping his abdomen with both hands in his best attempt to soothe the aching sensation puncturing his body.
yn watched the situation unfold as she sat on the rubber gym flooring, otherwise cold if it weren't for seung bin's zip-up laid out below her. it had been kyung jun who'd instructed the blondie to give up his hoodie, since yn declined on taking his own. not a single word was heard from the girl ever since stepping into the gym as the trio took turns tormenting their two victims, until now.
"i didn't come here for this, kyung jun."
almost ten minutes had passed and she was still waiting for kyung jun to approach her and start the conversation he so adamantly pushed onto her.
"c'mon yn, let me give it one more shot."
he must've lost his fucking mind, thinking he had her wrapped around his finger to waste her time in such a way. fed up, yn got up and snatched the basketball out of his hands before throwing it away. it rolled towards jin ha, who immediately picked it up to quite the sound of the bouncing that only seemed to raise the tension of the ex-lovers' quarrel.
yn opened her mouth to give kyung jun an ultimatum, a last opportunity out of her remaining patience, when a sudden ding emitted out of her skirt's pocket. she would've payed no mind to it if it weren't for the other five identical sounds that propagated right after.
each person in the room took out their phones and faced their screens, which displayed a virtual envelope eagerly waiting to be opened. 
TAP TO VIEW YOU ROLE, read the text below.
"wasn't this the resort's app?" asked jin ha, to nobody in particular.
resort's app? 
she never knew about any app.
"mafia?" seung bin laughed from his spot at the floor and showed his screen. "what's this about?"
"what the fuck is this?" kyung jun mumbled with a frown, clearly confused.
yn brought one hand to the back of her neck as the abnormal sensation from minutes ago reappeared. goosebumps started breaking out throughout her skin and every cell on her body seemed to tremble uncontrollably while she stared at the little black mirror on her hand. which, as she would soon find out, reflected the last version of herself with any shred of purity.
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singingcicadas · 2 months
Text
Rodimus and making Necessary Sacrifices
The most famous one: blowing up Nyon
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Btw Megatron could totally have saved the people in Nyon if he wanted to; he knew about Zeta's plan beforehand. All he needed to do was give Hot Rod and the citizens an evacuation alert. But he didn't because he wanted to give Optimus a good emotional impact with all the deaths and who cares about the common lowlife anyway, all they're good for is getting bodily thrown at Zeta until his weapon overloads from draining too many people.
Kimia station in Chaos Theory:
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Red text bubble is Optimus. He doesn't wait for Optimus to agree before directly giving Omega Supreme orders to shoot Kimia down.
Reaction after confirming that Doubledealer is a traitor:
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Using Rung as bait for the sparkeater:
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The last two panels also gives us something on how he views (his own) authority. Because while he's always held a position of authority in high command, the high command is still a council. On the ship his authority is absolute.
The next three scenarios form a pattern. It always starts with Rodimus telling someone to kill a comrade, the person tasked with the killing goes 'what I don't want to do that', and Rodimus tones down the order from death to wound.
Ordering Rewind and Swerve to shoot at Fort Max:
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Ordering Swerve to hurt Ore:
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Ordering Cyclonus to shoot Brainstorm:
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Each of these scenarios is in response to a critical situation. Rodimus' first orders of 'aim to kill' are, while extreme, not disproportionate to the level of threat presented. They're within reason and authority. And ceding from kill to wound when protested is proof that he doesn't not care. But it also shows that his first instinctual reaction towards threats is to kill first ask questions later, even if the threat used to be his friend, comrade, or compatriot, he's able to weigh the lives on a scale and make that hard decision. He's also the type of person who's very comfortable with taking the fates other people into his own hands and deciding whether they should live or die (which is why him choosing to spare Getaway after retaking the Lost Light is a sign of character growth).
His characterization is fairly consistent throughout the comics, except for this:
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Everything in Spotlight Hot Rod goes against his later presentations. In his spotlight he's said to repeatedly beat himself up over one failed mission and is averse to taking responsibility towards other people for fear that he'd get them killed but in later issues he has No Problems doing exactly that. He displays no preferences for 'going solo' aside from the mission to retrieve the matrix and that's because everyone else kicked him out. When he wanted to leave on the Lost Light he made speeches to convince other people to join him despite the fact the Autobots were already outnumbered on Cybertron and taking people away would make their situation worse. Whenever he went anywhere in mtmte he assembled a team to accompany him.
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This scene especially contradicts Spotlight Hot Rod in every single way. The only consistent aspect of his character is the recklessness. He forces Optimus to authorize a rescue mission, of which he declares himself the team leader, ignores Optimus' caution about keeping it clandestine and tells everyone to barge through the front door, shuts Ironhide's objections down by pulling rank, then falls into a trap and gets Ironhide killed. Mission failed too obviously, they only got Prowl out. Optimus takes responsibility for the failure and surrenders to the humans, of which Rodimus' response is: "he freaked out because he couldn't hack it" and promptly also proceeds to drop everything and leave because yay there's no one to keep me on this stupid planet anymore and whoever wants to can come with. Where. is the guilt.
That and the whole fiasco with Swindle and Menasor were probably Rodimus' worst moments lol. Overall he's the type of leader good with stressful trolley problems but bad at considering the larger or long-term implications of his actions. His flippancy towards life and death and tendency to solve problems with the bluntest approach bleeds heavily into his leadership decisions and... just how his character is in general. Thank goodness there's only one of Drift and he's gone for most of the Lost Light voyage, Rodimus really doesn't work well with too many yes-men hanging around.
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