#((the accidental death of someone he meant no ill will towards? it's all coming at him so fast!!)) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icespur · 5 months

Text

My Sadistic Self Has Returned With Another Akeshu Angst Idea!

A sad take on "If Goro and Akiren had a biological child."

If Akechi unknowingly impregnated Akiren before the events of Sae's Palace, Shido's Palace, or right before Maruki Palace. So Akechi still "dies" and unknowingly leaving behind a child.

Or in reverse where---I dunno, a mission goes wrong and Akiren dies leaving behind Akechi to raise their daughter alone.

Mostly----

Do any of you recall a little anime called "Clannad"? Or specifically "Clannad After Story"?

Listen, I've seen Miraculous Ladybug AU fanart where they drew an Adrian and Adrianette Daughter version of the infamous "I'm Only Allowed To Cry In Daddy's Arms" and "Ushio Death Scene". If someone can renact that scene in other fandoms, we can do an Akeshu version!

I could only see the death Scene working with Akiren and Akeshu Daughter, because I can't ever see Akiren being so racked with grief that he'd act cold and distant towards his own child.

Akechi though, I could see. Of course he'd eventually snap out of it culminating in the heartbreaking "in Daddy's Arms" scene."

If none of you have watched Clannad, and don't know the context of the scenes I'll give them.

Father's name shall be abbreviated to "T", Mother as "N" and daughter as "U" as that's the first letter their names start with.

High School sweethearts get married, and N says she wants to have a child. But her parents and husband are worried because a pregnancy could be detrimental to her already fragile health from an unspecified illness she's had all her life.

But she wants a baby, and T & N successfully conceive. N goes into labor early and since it happens during Winter, the Doctor is struggling with driving (N was very persistent of wanting a home birth despite the risks, so they have a midwife helping and the Doctor has to come to them if I recall)

After a painful birth, their daughter is born alive and healthy, but the birth proved too much on N's body and she passes away.

This SHATTERS the husband, T. So much so he shuts down and can't bear to be around his daughter, so N's parents take her in and raise her. T only sees her on the occasional family outings with N's parents if they bring the daughter in tow. The Daughter knows who her father is but is kinda shy around him. They have ONLY INTERACTED ALONGSIDE THE PARENTS. T HAS NEVER BEEN LEFT ALONE WITH HER.

Until N's parents set him up on a promised family get-together that they "last minute" ditch leaving T alone for the first time to watch his estranged 5 year old.

T is very distant and cold towards her for a while. It doesn't help that the daughter is the SPITTING IMAGE of his late wife.

One day he takes her on a trip, buys her a toy robot, and even though it's not girly, she cherishes it. They go to a field of flowers where she happily runs and plays while T gets to meet an old friend of his father and gets a wake up call of both newfound respect for Father who he saw as a deadbeat, and of how shitty of a dad he's been to his own daughter.

He returns to his daughter who (I forgot to mention she lost her Toy Robot in the flowers and has been spending time digging through looking for it) is still looking for her toy, even as it's now sundown.

T has a genuine sweet conversation with his child and breaks it to her finding her toy might be impossible. But he can get her a new one.

She refuses and that "It has to be that one."

He asks her why and she says "Because it's the first toy Daddy gave me."

You can see this breaks T, as he realizes how much that one off toy meant so much too his kid even though he's been a selfish dad, she adored that toy as the first gift and act of love he's given her.

He apologizes for his behavior and asks if it's okay for him to stay and raise her. She accepts but still looks hesitant about something.

She reiterates something she told him earlier when he accidentally scared her and made her run off when he snapped at an unruly child and his mother on the train.

He thought she just went to the bathroom but saw her crying. She explains that Grandma taught her she's not allowed to cry in public, and only in a bathroom stall or----

"I can only cry in the bathroom or in Daddy's arms."

And for the first time ever, she gets to do the second option. T gives her permission and she runs into his arms, bawling the loss of her beloved robot, while T is hugging her back, crying and apologizing repeatedly for his behavior and missing so much of her life.

Second moment, is unfortunately the daughter, "U". Not only inherited her mother's looks, but also life threatening illness. She gets so sick to the point where she's bedridden and can hardly stand or walk.

T stays by her side 24/7 and does his best.

U keeps asking to return to the flower field because she loved the trip so much. He promises her once she's better and it's warmer out (since it's now winter).

But with how weak she is, she might not get better. And T feels so guilty and powerless of not being able to grant his dying daughter's wish. Despite his better judgement and logic, she asks again and insists "We have to go NOW!"

He takes her out in the blizzarding snowing cold to go to the train to go see the flowers for the final time.

U is visibly struggling just to walk and is breathing hard, and on the brink of passing out, he even has to catch her from falling at one point. He offers to carry her but she insists on walking.

Eventually though, the cold is too much and she collapses. T catches her in his arms, she's alive but barely.

"Papa? Are we on the train?"

"yes." (They are not)

"It's dark."

"Yes, it's night. You fell asleep."

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"....I love you..."

"Daddy loves you too, I love you very much."

She doesn't respond.

T briefly pulls her back from his chest to see why she didn't respond, to see she died. He bawls and cries for anyone to help him, to bring his little girl back, turn back time, even desperately begs the heavens and his dead wife to save their daughter, until he too collapses in the snow, cradling his daughter's corpse.

These two scenes are infamous heartbreaking Anime moments. For those who have seen the Anime, I'm sorry for bringing back your PTSD of the moment, if not. I suggest you look up the clips or start binging because reading it does not do the scenes justice.

And my evil self imagined an Akeshu version.

Fanartist away!

#persona 5 royal #persona 5 #akeshu #shuake #ren x akechi #akiren #akira kurusu #ren amamiya #goro akechi #akeshu parents #akeshu child #angst #clannad #clannad after story #fanart request #fanfic writers away!#emotional #im not sorry #spoliers

14 notes · View notes

nibwhipdragon · 11 months

Note

Shin for the blorbo ask game :)

Heuhueeuueueueu thank you for answering my wishes Kirsten. I can talk about this Normal man for Ages. You're so real and awesome and true for this. Love you <3

The reasoning for some of the stuff I've put down on here is so intricate I have to explain it (especially since you have not played yttd. Or played ytts yet as far as I'm aware). Actually thinking about it I'll probably vaguely explain the rest because of that. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Rant under the cut :3

FUCK THE WAR BAR I FORGOT. IMAGINE THAT IS AT MAX WITH A BRACKET SAYING "DEPENDENT" NEXT TO IT OK

Food is very low because Shin canonically can't eat much food. Most food destroys his stomach so he doesn't really care for feeding himself too much (even though he really wants to put on weight, seeing he is severely underweight at 49kg. I think normal weight is like 53kg or smth like that. God). Though he DOES seem to really like the food he can eat (only soup, really) , so that's another reason as to why I gave food a one on the bar. If he could actually digest food properly he'd definitely be a food person.

He's very disabled (chronically ill ver.) coded, and he's very weak and usually exhausted/can be exhausted easily. So his sleep is at max because he very likely sleeps a lot due to it

Sex is none due to the above reasons. Sorry. He would go into cardiac arrest if he were to have sex and that isn't even a joke. Most sexless man ever

Pals is a middle on the bar. Because he has no friends, BUT. When he cares for someone he ends up caring for them a Lot. As well as that he does care for Midori a lot, actually being upset over his "death" iirc. However I have very much deducted points off from that one, simply due to Midori's abuse towards Shin. Midori used Shin's personality to trap him within their abusive relationship easier, so I'm not fully counting it as some of that is definitely the abuse speaking (iirc he also said part of him was somewhat relieved to hear the news).

Love is also high, because when he cares for someone he cares for them a Lot. Kanna, for example. Ended up getting accidentally attached to her and it caused him to abandon his plans to escape the death game alive because if it did that it'd kill her. I can speak a lot about their relationship (I find it so upsetting he never learns that Kanna was his little sister he always wished he had the ability to see. The fuck man) but you know like nothing about her so I won't here. It's only just come to my attention the template probably meant love as in romantic love seeing there was a pal section. But I don't care.

Due to his relationship he develops with Kanna (and how he's so desperate to save her) the war bar is entirely dependent on which route you take, Logic (kill Kanna, Shin lives), or Emotion (kill Shin, Kanna lives). In Emotion Kanna lives and Shin is happy because that's what he wants, not caring that he's going to now die because of it. In Logic though. Shin was paranoid of everyone betraying him the entire death game. And in Logic, once he breaks down his walls and becomes vulnerable, just to try save Kanna, they end up killing her because it's the logical thing to do. Betraying him like he was fearing. And ofc he gets mad, not just because of the betrayal but also everyone voted to have a 13 year old die, What the Fuck. And he becomes hellbent on killing literally everyone there as revenge. Hell, not soon after the main game, he ends up making the Joe AI "evil" to traumatise Sara even more, to the point she forgot Joe completely to cope with it all. He's very much got war as a priority in Logic route.

Crying is very low because that man suppresses so SO much ("Sadness...? I don't think I can make that feeling anymore." And him later on being distressed and upset over Midori being Midori. Wow, someone is a chronic liar!)

Shin is canonically great at things like coding and hacking so I don't think it's out of place for him to be good at videogames. It's also why he has cracked account and such ticked off. Bad Internet is ticked simply because it feels in character.

His kill count. I know he killed Joe. Not with his own hands but he set up the events that caused Joe to die with the intention of getting him killed so I'm counting it. For the life of me I put 2 down and I can't think of the second one. Hmmm. Well. He does kill himself in many meanings of the phrase. So maybe that's it. And ofc the so far is there bc yttd is not complete yet and it is subject to change.

I wasn't too sure what was meant by "moon" or "sunshine" so. I was stumped. UNTIL I remembered the official translation notes.

His surname is moon related. And Sou Hiyori's surname is sun related. How good for me! He's mostly on the moon side (because this is Shin here) but not fully there due to the whole personality and identity stuff that occurs.

He is a fruit because he's certainly not meaty. All I have to say on the subject tbh

Just giving a heads up as I can't add another cut. But one of the images I'm gonna use very soon has some blood in it. It's not too graphic but I wanna make sure I don't jump you with anything you don't want to see <3

Ticked him off as dead, not just because he dies in one route, but he (technically) dies in them all. I refer back to the Logic and Emotion routes. Look at this CG for the Emotion route.

He is wounded fatally because this is the route he dies in ofc. But I bring to notice that he has no scarf in this CG. Now look at the Logic route version of this CG.

Very upset and mad here as you can see. But he also has the scarf. Idk if you caught on to it (only bc you haven't played the game, this is blatant in game) but that's actually Midori's scarf originally! Shin started wearing Midori's scarf after he died, which is why he has it (this is just to clear up questions you may have). Yknow. Midori, the original Sou Hiyori, the evil and abusive and manipulative man, the man whose personality and identity Shin took on to protect himself in the death game. The Emotion CG lacking the scarf shows that he has finally let his walls down, is Shin Tsukimi, his real self, and he dies that way. The Logic CG having the scarf shows that though he may still be alive, the personality, the REAL Shin Tsukimi is dead and long gone. He's been betrayed and horrifically traumatised and so that "weak" personality has been completely discarded in favour of a "stronger" one, Midori's. There's also Shin AI, of which there was technically 2. One on level 2 of the death game building, not a proper AI due to only being there to give info on his character (the 2nd trial was about trust hence why this was a thing). Shin smashes that Shin AI's monitor on secret before anyone has the chance to discover it to conceal his identity. A form of Shin Tsukimi dies. Then there is the other Shin AI – this one is the one people are very most likely referring to when talking about Shin AI. He's a full-on AI of Shin unlike the other one, with his memories and his personality pre death game, kept on a computer in the level 3 computer room for Midori to play around with (Shin can't escape him no matter what...). In both routes, he's the only remaining version of Shin in existence. And though he's scared and reluctant to help the gang at first due to Midori, eventually he does help! And of course once Midori finds out. Punishment. Said punishment was deleting the Shin AI. Slowly. So he could feel the pain of being deleted and the fear of death (he begs Midori to stop and reverse the deletion saying he'd be good and listen to him after and was saying he was so sorry it actually upset me so bad). And so Shin AI, the last version of Shin remaining, dies. And then there is no more Shin. He is ridiculously doomed by the narrative. Ough...can you tell I'm normal over him.

And of course. He's haunted. By Midori especially. Haunted so much by him that he takes on his identity and personality as a form of defense. So haunted that after his death Shin decided to search for him (iirc), "just in case", despite their relationship being so abusive (yeah ik abuse victims are like that for very good reasons. Abuse does Things to you. My point still stands). He even has a manifestation his trauma have Midori's personality iirc (Shadsou) to help make sure he keeps himself on this track of being Midori in case he slips up. Haunted in so many ways...

#ok i think that's it. i am tired anyways.#ask game answers #yttd #shin tsukimi

11 notes · View notes

rayofsunas · 3 years

Text

s/o who dies.

A/n: listennnn, I wasn't going to write something dark, but then I unregretfully decided to listen to edgy/dark audios and I was suddenly in the mood to write this so yeah lmao. also, guess what? I'm planning on making a discord server right after posting this! so, be on the lookout for that when I get it all sorted out. also, note for Scaramouche's that the reader inserts tend to lean more femininely versed (I hope that's okay), the only reasons why I do that is because one I simp and I'm female AND two since I am doing a mini-series for Scara, I've kind of based his imagines/fics around that universe (baby daddy universe). I haven't started his yet, but consider these part of that series' universe. anyways as always thank you for requesting anon and enjoy! <333

Summary: you die + how the boys cope afterward.

Parings: Albedo/Gn! Reader, Xiao/Gn! Reader, Scaramouche/Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, death, poison, illness/cancer, murder, arson, obsessive behavior

Word count: 2.1k

Albedo

"You need to keep this on your head." Your lover said for the one-hundredth time, placing the cold cloth on your forehead once again after taking it off only seconds earlier.

"This is pointless," You said, no longer wanting to ignore nor hide behind the invisible thick curtains of the obvious death sentence approaching. "My body rejected the medicine the first twice doses, what's a third time going to do?" You asked, knowing Albedo wouldn't answer; your hope was to knock some sense into his thick skull. but he was too worried trying to ignore the obvious as you had previously been doing, not anymore though.

This was saddening to watch, both Albedo's unfolding and the girl who accidentally poisoned you, whimpering into Sucrose's shoulder. She was only a young girl, barely seventeen when she was chosen to work under Sucrose and your boyfriend. She was very good at Alchemy and luckily had a desire to practice the craft. But unfortunately, she hadn't paid much attention when it came to Surcrose's educational poison lesson and had unknowingly mixed up poisonous liquids and materials.

After tipping over some clutter in Albedo's office and knocking over a test tube laying unsealed on the counter, you had realized the contents spilled on your skin, bleaching into your pores. You had been tasked with bringing the famed alchemist and his assistant some vials and materials for the collection of a rare butterfly they had found. It was both telling and obvious that something was wrong when you never showed up with the required materials requested and it was already too late hours later when the chief Alchemist, his assistant, and Alchemist in training came bounding down the stairs of Albedo's home laboratory.

It didn't take long for the trio to realize something was wrong. Sucrose had found the vile on the floor, most of its contents spilled and in a little puddle, plus your state on a nearby lounge chair was obvious; slumped awkwardly, forehead visibly sweating, eyes closed, breathing raspily.

You accepted the first doses of the supposed nullifying medicine without hesitation, just wanting the numbing feeling to go away. But when it never kicked in you decided it would be best to save the medicine, because it wasn't working. Your time was coming.

"Since the medicine is taking immediate effect, you should try to get the contents out of your system," He said, reaching out for you. Badly you wanted to argue that the medicine wasn't working at all, but he wasn't listening and already has his lean arms wrapped around your middle, helping gently lift and guide you over to the sink.

You hear materials being shoved to the side and soon enough you had your head dangling over the sink, shaking hands gripping the metalled edge tightly. Soon enough, Albedo's hand was on your back rubbing up and down, hoping to comfort you, it wasn't working though. You could only think about your death, what the other side would look like. Could there even be heaven or hell, maybe a place in between, maybe nowhere...?

As soon as you felt the urge to vomit, you did, and despite it being utterly disgusting Albedo seemed to welcome it happily. He took this as something good, but it only worried you when you saw the reddish hues in the bile.

"I think they should leave." You muttered acknowledging Sucrose and Elizabeth, the taste of gooey, metal only becoming more apparent. The blonde agreed, nodding and muttering "Okay."

As Sucrose lead Elizabeth towards the stairs, the pair heard you say. "Goodbye Sucrose, Elizabeth." Which only seemed to make the young girl wail louder.

You sighed sadly once the silence was back. Just your thoughts of death, and Albedo's slowly crushing heart.

"You should probably leave soon as well. I don't want you to be here when I go." Albedo frowned at your statement, head shaking.

"Don't say things like that."

Of course, he'd say that. Why did he feel the need to ignore this when it would only come back to hurt him even more later on when you were gone?

"You're the smartest man I know and we both know where this is heading," You said, head feeling much heavier than before. It was getting closer to your time. "I'm going to die, and you can't do anything about it."

"I'm not leaving your side. We promised to stick together through everything, you can't ask me to leave."

"I guess... But promise me this."

"When I go, stop blaming Elizabeth. It was an accident..." You said sincerely. Albedo wanted to make a fuss about it, tell you he'd never been able to forgive her. But for you, he would try. If it was your list desire, your last wish, he'd make it come true. Though it would be difficult. Accidental or not, she was the reason you were leaving him here, alone.

"Okay, I'll try..." He said honestly.

"Thank you," You said, letting out a shaking breath you had been holding for a very long time. Now you felt much more peaceful. "And since I know you stubbornly won't leave," You started, finally turning away from the sink to look into his cerulean eyes. "At least hold my hand."

"Of course, love."

even a year after your death, no matter how hard he tried, there was still this nagging feeling every time he looked at Elizabeth

he wanted too badly forgive her, but he couldn't

she had, although accidental, taken the one person that meant so much to him and he'd never forgive

Albedo is gonna be distant towards everyone he knows and it's completely purposeful

he doesn't like the pitiful gazes that people send his way and he hates that all the captains stared at him at your funeral

obviously, some questioned if he was able to stay in the field

he hadn't taken any time off, even when Jean advised he was welcome and that it would be best

tbh, albedo's going to have a hard time for a while

Xiao

Why did it have to be you? Why not him? He'd feel much better knowing you could live another day, after all, he'd been living a very long time.

But no, the fallen Archons, Gods, Yaksha had chosen you to join them. He wished that weren't the case

Humans and their pathetic vessels... So weak, he thought. Allowing something like cancer to beat them.

No matter how harsh it sounded, he didn't despise you, no. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this. He just knew that if you were a godly being this wouldn't have happened like this or at least not so soon; Xiao had known Gods that had terminal illnesses to live years. Why couldn't you be like them?

He hated watching you lie there in that bed, immobile, sickly, and tired, and all you could say was that everything was going to be alright, that he'd be alright.

But it wasn't. He wouldn't be okay without you. He would struggle daily, fall deeper into a hole. You were the light of his life, the only light in his life. And you were gone, just like that. Turning external scars into internal ones tattered all over his dying heart.

Xiao for the longest time has been by himself, so the people of Liyue know it'll be harder for him to overcome this, no matter what he says or does to prove otherwise

Zhongli in particular knows how hard this will be for his friend

his first and probably last love, dead, gone in the blink of an eye

he'll continue fighting all the monsters he crosses, becoming even more violent when he does so, trying his best to get rid of this stupid sickly feeling of heartbreak

but it won't go away, no matter what he does, no matter how absurd

he just wants the feeling to go away, he despises that feeling so much

if you have a secret place somewhere, like in the mountains, Zhongli often finds him there, wallowing in invisible self-pity

"You know they wouldn't want you to be like this." Zhongli would say, only trying to help

but it doesn't

it only enrages Xiao, even more, fuels him to push everyone out of his life again instead of letting them in like he'd done in your presence

Scaramouche

How dare you. How dare you leave him like this. Alone, nonetheless with a toddler to raise who kept crying for her mommy. He couldn't do this without you, he didn't know how to raise a child, speak to her with the gentle care that you did. That was your expertise but now he'd be doing it solo.

And never again would he entrust someone who he cares about, into ignorant, incompetent arms. Never again will he ever allow any member of the Fatui to watch after his daughter; no matter their rank or position. They had one job while he was away doing business in Liyue. Guard your home twenty-four seven, accompany you into Inazuma's port town should you need anything, watch after his daughter while she plays happily in the luscious Inazuma fields. And they couldn't do that. All he gave them was one simple task, watch and keep you and your daughter safe. Instead, they slacked off, probably drunk in some bar while you were being brutally attacked by murderous mercenaries, left to fend for you and your daughter, only to die protecting her and leave your home to be severely burned.

He knew those idiotic Fatui soldiers were incompetent the moment he stepped foot into the harbor and found that everyone seemed to quiet down. Especially the eerily silent soldiers flanked on each side to welcome him home; he was the highest-ranking soldier in the land of Inazuma after all. Not a single one bothered to step forward and tell him what was wrong, what they all criminally allowed happen. Scaramouche only realized what had happened when he was mere minutes away from arriving home, his daughter had come running from his widowed mother's arms, the sight of smoke rising in the air, from the direction of his home. You were nowhere to be seen.

It all happened so fast, in the blink of an eye. His daughter was clinging to his shirt and his mother only stared with tears of pity.

It didn't take long for the puzzle pieces to be put together and before he knew it, Scaramouche was standing in front of his home, part of it burnt to a crisp and black.

He didn't need to ask what happened, he didn't need to know where you were, because he already knew. What he didn't know was who exactly had done this. But he was going to find out, now.

Incompetent, selfish, bastards. They would all pay for this. The lazy piggish Fatui soldiers who he should've never trusted with such a simple task and the thieves who had murdered you. They all had it rightfully coming.

Scaramouche hates the world after he lost you

he hates it so much and can't understand how this had happened

he's not a good person, so he blames it on karma and those stupid idiots who couldn't protect you

ngl, he's not gonna be around much after your death... his mother would argue that he should be here to raise your daughter, because she's also in pain and doesn't understand that this isn't some game of hide and seek this time

instead, he's focused and driven by revenge

he doesn't listen to a word anybody says, he's much more dangerous than before, and he only trusts his judgment

anyone trying to get him to stop his mission, is someone who doesn't want to see him happy he thinks (though that's not true at all. they hate that he is obsessive over this) but he will personally put a stop to that

and he'll only return home to his daughter and mother when he finds who did this and they along with their bloodline is exterminated

while he's gone, the remainder of his family is relocated somewhere he knows they'll be safe, for example, even though he despises childe, he knows his mom and daughter will be safe with his family

sorry, but Scaramouche will hold this deep-rooted hatred and love for you after you die

yes, he still loves and misses you dearly, but he hates you for leaving him alone, hates that although it wasn't intentional and out of your control, that you were gone

no matter how hard you tried to fight, it was selfish of you to leave him like this

he's not going to stop until he believes whoever was behind this is dead

and in his case, he'll stop believing when he chooses, even if they are innocent/guilty, he'll keep going

3.19.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genhsin impact scenarios #albedo #albedo x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader

866 notes · View notes

ryoskuna · 3 years

Text

⭑ promised eternity | hades!sukuna x persephone!reader au headcanons (PT 1).

A/N: ... yo... i would like to say whoever threatened to send me toe pics, a-plus, bc you made me release this into the wild. * insert megumi meme face here * but this is just HEADCANONS for a hades!sukuna and persephone!reader-esque universe, and because y’all are as thirsty as I am, it includes some SFW and NSFW headcanons. grab your water bottles, and I apologize for my subconscious now. (cause it’s always on auto-pilot and giving me wild af ideas.) We shall all thirst... over OG form sukuna as well, because ,, well, big daddy, do i need to say more??? also this is some seriously fantasy like au , sort of, it takes place during sukuna’s original time as a curse, when gojo’s ancestor was after him, and hints wildly on that, and also will hit moments where the sorcerers are of course, hunting him. feel free to give me your thoughts and ask questions, because i love you all. onward to the THIRST! ( also side note, promised eternity is the name of the potential series that may come from this. )

this is part one of the headcanons, and they’re all SFW.

being married to the king of curses is not easy. it’s awkward at first, and then later on, comforting at best. to have someone who believes in you, roots you on (even if he’s kind of mean about it at first), is better than having nothing. you’ve been looked at for so long as a “curse” for your untrained cursed energy, that to have someone who sees potential in your “god” given gifts instead of spite (or only useful in preventing a raid) is refreshing. and unsettling at first.

speaking of that, sukuna basically rescued you from your village. for the entirety of your life before him, your cursed energy has gone unchecked, untrained. so it fluctuates with your emotions. it’s useful when you summon your wrath to defend your village or when your untrained reverse cursed techniques help the crops grow— but any other time, you are known as a curse. your emotions grow sad or you grow angry, and people die accidentally. ( hence your harbinger of death nickname. ) sukuna, during his many trips to your village for taxes and the occasional “recruitment” of healthy women and me, he has noticed you. and he has noticed your vast amount of cursed energy. it’s all but too easy for him to command the head of your village to hand you over — your parent(s) have no say.

sukuna is generous enough to compensate them, and the head of village. it’s one of few kindnesses he’ll show, besides eventually to you. sukuna will never tell, not till much later on, that he noticed you in every visit he’s ever made. that you deserved better than the mockery and scorn of your people. he offers to burn them all for you, but your mercy says otherwise.

speaking of when he came to get you, he was 10 feet tall, dressed in a black montsuki kimono and hakama. all four of his arms are on display, and all four of his eyes are on you.

you, are in a shiromuku, complete with a wataboshi — you and your mother (or a village woman) made it, but it will not be the last of your “bridal” gowns as you travel through at least five villages before arriving at sukuna’s fortress-like palace. sukuna has prepared you both a uchikake style kimono (adorned with pinks and reds), a hikifurisode style kimono (black, but also adorned with whites and golds and reds)— lastly is the Tomesode, which you arrive to your new home in, adorned in pins and signs of your new status. it’s here you discover you are not meant to be a mistress, you are meant to be a wife. his wife. his first, and his only (or at least he’ll try to keep it that way).

sukuna does not make time for much. rumors of him are notorious of his over-indulgence, guided by only his pleasure and displeasure, which is slightly true. but he makes time for you. you aren’t like the others he’s taken in his time, whether for his entertainment or to be in his service (you are not his toy as he has a habit of disposing of his playthings once they bore him); you’re his wife, but you are also this powerful being, who if trained, will become even more powerful. if you were a sorcerer, you’d rival him — but you are his equal.

he tries to make you feel that way by shrinking down to your size. he drops his 10 ft height (even through he can grow larger), to 6′8 or 7ft (pick your preference). it helps him watch the way you fight him, and he’ll change his height to help you train to fight enemies of different sizes.

sukuna’s loyalty to you forms in the midst of gifts. he’s lavish and again, over-indulgent. before your lips ask for it, somehow you already have whatever you desire. however, he also realizes, the more that he’s around you that gifts don’t make you happy (as pleasing as they are). being in his company is what makes you happy. oh, and sukuna’s very careful to touch you. his strength knows no bounds, until you touch him. you have to be the one that touches him first. it’s a brush over the knuckles, your tiny hand wrapping around his big one.

the way you manipulate plants to your advantage as a defense will never not amaze him. the way you use vines to wrap around him to capture him is genius, and the sneak attack you give has gotten better. he’ll still tease you ask “is that the best you can do” with your hits to provoke more of your strength, and he’ll give praise at the end, in his own way. (more touches.)

sukuna’s untouched garden becomes yours as one of your wedding gifts. it’s yours, and all the servants know it. everyone on his grounds knows it is yours.

you haven’t realized it since your arrival, but there are female servants that are your handmaidens, but for the harem that sukuna supposedly keeps — you have no idea where they are. it isn’t till one of your handmaidens inform you that he freed them with compensation. it’s not an uncommon practice for him, you’re told. he does not keep anyone against their will, and he never forced the girls he kept to do anything. for him, war and fighting made his blood rush just as much as sex could.

you and sukuna’s cursed energy manages to mingle to create a rare flower, one that turns from a gold color to red at the tips of the petals. he later tells you that beautiful things can come from destruction, and it makes you think of yourself, and who you’ve become with his guidance as you look into his eyes.

the first time you sleep in his bed with him, he lays still on one side of the bed (which is unusual for him) until you beckon him closer. he meets you halfway in the middle, where you lay your head on his chest and listen to the sound of him breathing. he’ll never admit it at first, but the comfort you give to him is startling, but welcomed. he wraps two arms around you, but it isn’t until you’re sleep that all four hold you gently against him, as if those four arms are shields to keep you safe.

He admires your strength and the various ways it shows itself. He has since your “wedding day”, when you shed no tears at being taken from your family. When you told him “do what you will”, but also in your rage he tapped into when you wrapped thorny vines around him when he provoked you by calling you “a murderous curse of a girl”. He apologizes for this comment at some point, while you two lay together in the garden.

he presents to you a crown, shaped after the marks on his forehead (preserved through a picture painted on a fan). it is two horns towards the ceiling, made of black metal the color of obsidian.

sukuna enjoys towering over you. and more importantly, once it no longer startles you, you enjoy the safety that his height reminds you of.

the form of trust sukuna has with you is seen by the servants when assigns advisors to you, as well as teaches you how to deal with trials when they come forth. you are his rose with thorns now, and you know how to use them.

someone speaks ill of sukuna? you are reminding them of their place: “speak ill of your king again with that tongue of yours and i’ll take it”

OKAY BADASS, and sukuna is all for it, just “that’s my s/o”

and lord, the pet names this man has for you: “my dove” “my love” “my moon” and you with: “my sun and stars” (thank u got)... he’s got a lot of pet names.

he likes to hold you on his side for some reason, whenever he can. honestly, he just likes you close.

basically, you’re tough as hell and powerful as hell and you grow into your added strength and he loves it.

can you say POWER COUPLE OF THE AGES

#persephone & hades au ft. sukuna.#persephone and hades au ft. sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna.#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk hcs #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk.#ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna

985 notes · View notes

randomsnakesimp · 3 years

Text

Okay. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna take the leap and say: Phobos is the victim (sorta).

Quick disclaimer: I am going to abuse plot holes and cartoon logic for my cause in a very nitpicky way. If you dislike that, I can completely understand, and I hope this warning will save you a lot of reading.

Also, this won't go into just headcanon territory, I'll put those in a separate post. Everything here I'll try to keep based on actual information from the comics and what I made of them.

That said...

Let's take a look at this scene:

(for a quick translation of the important part, the mother says: "No, Phobos, Meridian is meant for your sister. That's the law. The crown is hers.)

What we can see here are a few very important things:

1. Phobos is at most 5 years older than Elyon.

2. The name "Phobos" is not an edgy nickname he gave himself. Five-year-olds don't go around calling themselves Phobos. So his parents, for some reason, gave him that name.

3. His mother is very adamant about him not even touching the crown and reminding him of his sisters' birthright.

So, after establishing what I would call more or less facts, what else can, relatively savely, be deduced here?

- Since Elyon never noticed anything weird about herself, she can't have aged slower than earth children. So neither can Phobos. This would mean that, as she was kidnapped after her mothers death as a baby, he would have been five. So, he either tried his best to rule at age five, or the council we see as Elyon rules stepped in for him for a while

- this would then mean two things: we need an explanation as to why Miriadel, Alborn and Galgheita fled explicitly from Phobos (I'll give my explanation a bit further down) and second, Phobos' reign of terror wasn't even thirteen years, and a lot of that time he was a child/teen and could not even have been mature enough to rule.

- This also means that Kandrakar pulled up the veil when Phobos was at most five, likely younger, and that the so called "Seal of Phobos" also existed at that time, as both the veil and the seal are seen in the flashback depicting Elyons abduction. For Kandrakar, this, too, I will try to explain soon, but as for the seal, I find it most plausible that the theory @ror-witch used in their fanfiction, of the seal being a royal heirloom and named after each ruler, is true.

- His and his mother's relationship was neither as bad as some assumptions go, but neither was it that good, probably, or at least it wasn't in his perception. See how his memory is of her cradling the baby the entire time and talking more about his sisters birthright than about what he has/can do? Yes, it's only a short memory, but I think it's clear that it's a summary of what he remembers of his mother.

- Phobos desire to rule Meridian does not stem from something deeply sinister, but rather from a childish spite. Five year old Phobos probably just wanted the crown cause it looked nice and shiny, and he was fabulous even back then, but after his mothers words, he sulked and decided to show her. That's his motivation.

So, now let's go a bit further and look at some other things we can deduce from the rest of the comics:

- Phobos has a huge dungeon, a wall of roses that turn people into more roses if they touch it and his plan for the annihilation of Meridian is "Well, Cedric and I hide in the castle and...we'll see". He hates the people of Meridian, but he doesn't seem to have it in him to directly attack anyone until Elyon is there and even here, when he has her knocked out in their duel or locked up as Endarno, he isn't unnecessarily cruel. He's not evil in nature, he's more of a very dangerous child throwing tantrums. ( Cedric is kinda similar, and they both start losing it toward the coronation, but I sincerely believe that before that, there would have been a chance for them to come around )

- The only person he ever tortures or even hurts directly is Cedric. Because one, he likes Cedric and so gets more extreme emotions around him, and two, Cedric never says anything, and just plays it of afterwards, so I don't know if he even fully realizes what he's doing, like a child hitting someone. If Cedric ever just said "Stop it, you're hurting me", Phobos would probably need an entire week to process that input.

- Phobos is VERY reclusive, and he doesn't want anyone to have even pictures of him, and while that could be a God complex, I get some highly insecure vibes out of it, in a vulnerable narcissist kinda way, in that he is massively overcompensating. I gotta admit, though, that I cannot put my finger on why, so maybe take this with a grain of salt and decide for yourself if you agree.

- Kandrakar never orders the guardians to help Meridian in any way, just to make sure nothing oozes out. They likely pulled up the veil for their own protection, so Phobos wouldn't be able to spread far enough to become a real danger, rather than to protect innocent people, as clearly the Meridian people mean shit to them

- while the guards are widely feared in Meridian, Cedric seems to be viewed as... not very frightening or important, as some random merchant feels comfortable clinging to his cape (and rightfully so, apparently, as Cedric just tells him to piss off and doesn't care any further). This further leads me to believe that Cedric is rather unhealthy devoted to Phobos and his tantrums while their shitty ass reign leaves a lot of free space for unsuited people to become guards and tyranize the people.

- the King and Queen seem to have died in rapid succession, and shortly after the scene shown above, yet she looks perfectly healthy in that scene.

Now, what do I make of all this?

I believe the line of events to be as follows:

I don't think Phobos traveling back in time is a viable theory for mainly two reasons: I think his mother would be less chill around him if she saw/heard about his reign herself, and I believe that it would have been mentioned somewhere along the way if that were the case. Instead, what I believe happened is that the oracle had a vague vision of Phobos nearly taking over Kandrakar. Deciding in their random mood swings that today was a day of action, they had the people of Meridian informed that the next male born to a queen would become a dangerous tyrant, pulled up a veil and set their guardians to make sure nothing oozed out.

The veil, of course, made the people of Meridian feel trapped and a horror of the unborn prince who would ruin their lives spread.

So, when Weira gave birth to that prince, a full blown panic spread, so much so that she, in a fit of hysterical emotion, named him after that boust of panic. Of course, people tried to kill the prince basically from the moment he was born, and he was met with barely concealed resentment.

Soon after, Weira and her husband died - whether they were killed, or fell ill, or died in an accident, I have no idea, but I wouldn't completely rule out an assassination either aimed at Phobos and accidentally hitting them or the strain making at least one of them fall terminally ill.

Either the people rioted and Phobos' magic panic reaction or the leftover loyal guard was enough to fight them back, or the people succumbed to their fate at this point, slumping into the state of despair seen throughout the comics. But in the end, five year old Phobos had to be handed the throne. I assume the council still had some say at this point, but he did manage to get all pictures of him destroyed - this order was likely due to the fact that they were mostly caricatures.

So he grew up with the very volatile combination of a shitton of power and no one able to tell him if he was being stupid on one hand, and feeling unloved and unwanted on the other. He withdrew, likely also due to countless assassination attempts or things he perceived as such, and went into a negative feedback loop of being unable to mature and take responsibility, therefore being a shit ruler, therefore being hated, therefore having no one to help him, therefore being unable to face and grow from his mistakes, rinse and repeat.

So, Meridian was plunged into chaos, yet he seemed fine more or less just sitting in the new playroom he made for himself in the gardens, sporadically giving out an order or two and having generally no idea about anything that didn't directly concern him.

Enter Elyon. Now, she send him of the rails, as she was a danger to his lifestyle AND a reminder of all the sentiments he'd be drowning in alcohol if he wasn't too much of a recluse and education denier to know of that option. He doesn't even try. He just lets Cedric, the one person he trusts, handle her, like everything else, and somewhat plays along sometimes, when he feels like it. This is where he passes the point of no return and starts actually trying to kill people, culminating in him creating an army to wipe out Meridian. I still believe that even at this point, in his head, what he's doing is just throwing a nice toy out the window just so his sister won't have it.

#w.i.t.c.h. comics #w.i.t.c.h.#w.i.t.c.h. theory #prince phobos #Kandrakar is a shitshow

69 notes · View notes

salcreus · 3 years

Text

So I'm no writer. I don't mean this in a bad way, I just can't write long texts or keep my attention on the plot that I'm writing.

Having said that, however, I've been thinking a lot about an AU where Impulse and Etho end up teaming up, and things don't seem to work as they should on the 3rd life server.... [AO3 LINK]

Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You’d figure that if you tried hard enough, you could even notice the hints of salt scattered throughout. But focusing on the little details in life are for people that have the time to do so- And you, Impulse, are

“-an absolute idiot.” “Whoah there buddy, all I did was help some people out on their business. Don’tcha think that having more cards at play is gonna help us out in the end?” The redstoner says in such a tone that almost feels acrid in the way that fruits rot, if left forgotten, yet poor phrasings and curses aside, they truly were words of a man that means no malice- a curse of playing so many sides, he’d assume, if he were in another time. What he gets in response is but a boneless sigh, one that is tired of the shapes and turns of life and death, the game that they always play but never win. - “Impulse, you know that I love having you around- I’ll go so far as to say that you are the only one I can truly trust around here. But you are making me have some second thoughts about that.” “About my loyalty? Oh come on, you know that you are my pal til the end of times!” “Do I?” Etho has a way with words, it seems. He doesn’t use expensive expressions, the ones that are far too costly for your own soul or mind- Nor does he try to seem something that he isn’t, that’d be too unnatural, even for someone of his stature. But something in his tone moves rocks and mountains if the man so desires, and oh boy does he desire that a lot. You could say that It’s the type of tone that tugs you relentlessly, even if your conscience is clear- it’s never enough to hurt, of course, Canadian costumes or something of sorts, but it’s enough to make you doubt your own self down to the last cell in your body. And that; is far worse than any heartbreak or ill mouthing. Impulse staggers a bit away from his machinery- a simple system that would cast a rain of arrows down to any intruders from the sidelines - and contemplates the question that had been dropped in the air. Does he? Etho wouldn’t doubt him so much if he did, that’s the logical conclusion to that pinpoint. Now onto figuring out why the sudden suspicion. “You do know that I’ve sworn allegiance to you, right? I’m not saying this to be nice, or to play the part, this is not a master plan to trick you and stab you from the back- Heck, I wouldn’t be fortifying your fancy castle if that were the case! Though I doubt that you’d need my help with the redstone side of things-” A slight frown waves upon the man’s face for a split second, and Etho would have probably told you he hadn’t seen a thing if someone were to ask, for sight can be deceiving, and so can the light, and the mind, and your thoughts. “Agh, just please know that I’m doing my darn best to make sure that we can be the winners! That’s the whole goal of me being buddy-buddy with the other teams, right? So that we can gather intel and be 5 steps ahead of them.” And he meant that so truthfully, so genuine and pure, for someone that was doing so much wrong. There was a moment of silence. Well, not true silence- The sloshing of water against hard wool, the wind kissing the crops good morning, the distant chattering of the sheep, it all played a song to fill the current void in this conversation, which was not halted by the need to come up with something more to speak, or the lack of subject, but yes by the need to figure out if both of them believed in this story. “Why are we doing this?” Impulse is taken aback by the shift in conversation- Etho is no person to bring doubt into the table like that, after all. To question others? That’s a fair game, albeit a bit torturous at worst- But to question his own purpose, just like that, out of the blue? Now that was a heavy rock thrown to the face. Thankfully not in a literal sense, though. “...What do you mean by that?” Is what he managed to blurt out in response. “The betraying, the killing, the alliances- all of that. I mean, fundamentally, we do know that we are doing this for ‘fun’ and to ‘wind-out’ ” - The white-haired figure makes sure to over exaggerate the quotation marks of his sentence, giving it such a grand gesture that it almost breaks the somewhat tense presence filling the air. It was nice to take a step back and to remember that, at the end of the day, Etho is

still just Etho, silly and well-meaning. - “We know it because it’s what Grian told us it is.” “So you’re implying that there’s something more to it..?” “I’m not sure yet. You can just call it a hunch, really. But maybe Hermitcraft just... Wasn’t enough for him.”

Silence lingers for a few moments longer, a bit too thick to be swallowed easily, but accusations like these just weren’t possible to digest with a light heart. Impulse, almost inspired by a feeling very fitting to his name, took a few steps forwards, taking in the comforting feeling that the floor of their castle provided, soon sparing a glance at the lava fortifications surrounding them. If he really tried, he could spot Tango’s killing game by one of the exposed gaps, which earned a small chuckle in response. If it was loving, or nervous, he would decide later. “So” - The (yellow themed) redstoner finally spat out - “Going off your logic there… We’re friends with a guy that runs off bloodshed and sadistic tendencies, a guy who has created, even fought, so many battles on the other server, yet felt the need to kick the violence up a notch- For… entertainment?”

In response, the other (more so blue themed, but does Etho really have a colour of his own?) redstoner walked closer towards the other man, each step carrying a moment of reflection. “Ehm- Maybe? I mean we always knew that’s the main point of what we are doing, I’m more so implying-” “Implying that his goals are beyond a couple of laughs and water guns between friends.” “Mhm.” “We don’t usually take such a long break from Hermitcraft, which might have been why he felt the need to create this game.” “Or maybe he was just tired of the pawns, so he traded them for new pieces…” Impulse coughs out another chuckle, but this time anyone that paid some mind to the man could tell the pain that it was carrying- It was almost a brand image at this point, a coping mechanism he had earned over the years. He would go as far as feeling a certain shame about it, at least in his darker hours- it’s hard to play the part if your true colours can pop out at any moment, after all. At that moment, he had come to the realization that he would be awful at poker. “...Either way, I do think that Grian is taking this too far. I don’t know about you, but I would rather not have to betray and kill my friends like this. In a lighthearted competition? Sure. But this is turning people into monsters, Impulse. It’s turning us into monsters, in fact.” He spares another sigh, his face twisting into a more pained expression - contrasting the usual cool facade that he kept around the server - , taking the chance to keep his words down to a mere whisper, almost as if to share the secrets of the world with Impulse, spells and curses for his ears only. It almost felt a bit special, in a way. “It’s not like I enjoy the idea of our friend being some sort of sadistic megalomaniac- And I promise you that I’ll eat my own words one by one if I’m wrong, cross my heart, hope to die-” - Worth to note that both of them shared their just as secret reactions to the phrasing used by Etho- The man of the minute with a scrunch of his nose, and the person looking at him with an accidental eyebrow twitch. - “...But I really need you to trust me on this one, Impulse. You know that I wouldn’t bring such accusations without a reason.” Pop. Crack. The taste of muddy, bitter water in your tongue. You wished that if you tried hard enough, you could preoccupate yourself with the bits of salt scattered throughout. Moments of self reflection and torturous analysis, little glances, short breaths, holding your head, holding your mind, holding your heart- Correction, your hearts. Holding simultaneously nothing and the idea of Nothing at the exact same time. You stare at Etho. He stares at you back. But, in the end, focusing on the little details in life are for people that can afford to do so. And you, Impulse, are- “-running out of time! So I guess we are going to call it a day here, folks! Please log out of the world as soon as possible.” The communicators scream, rudely buzzing out to all of the members present in the server.

#woop #impulsesv #ethoslab #impulse #3lsmp #3rd life smp #third life #third life smp #i have no idea what im doing :) <3 #i just #t #i jus dont write like this idk img jfdnfdggjfng pee pee poo #mcyt #oh yeah ah is this salty art #sure we can gonwith that #salty art #edit: added tags #salty writing

27 notes · View notes

quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: tough luck Pairing: GN! Reader x Suna Rintarou [college au] Genre: domestic fluff and my bad comedy (teeny tiny angst if u squint)

Synopsis: “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.” [this request of suna rintarou + fluff ]

Warnings: minor bad language but thats it Notes:

omg i was finally able to write something fluffy yay! Hshdhdhd the mind- after all that angst. I hope yall enjoy this domestic college au suna hakhak where can i get one of these.

im posting three requests per week (its to help writers block and well, my english in general, they’ll be posted on random days) ill probably limit it to one when school starts though sike currently have four more requests to finish aye.

navigation

Thesis papers be damned.

You might as well burn your group mates to the depths of hell for leaving you to dry these past few weeks. They weren’t even replying to your messages tonight and you were having a mock presentation first thing in the morning.

You aggressively started to mix more cake batter after frosting the cupcakes.

“Baby?” a low voice echoes throughout the quietness of the kitchen, your steely gaze snaps to find your half-awake boyfriend standing there in his sleepwear, his raven hair completely a mess, if it were a normal day, you’d coo and snuggle next to your good-looking man and annoy the fuck out of him but no, you just had to be in a bad mood, “It’s four am, what’s with all the sugar overload?”

“I’m celebrating the death of my sleep schedule and my sanity. Want a cupcake, baby?” a sarcastic grin makes its way to your lips and honestly, despite his deadpan features, Suna was very worried. He had been bugging you these past weeks to stop living in coffee and instant noodles so he decided to crash your place tonight to scold you, cook yourself a hot meal, and smother you to sleep with his hugs but it seemed like it didn’t work at all and you just violently wormed your way out of his grasp.

He slowly made his way to you, eyes half-lidded, and grabbed the rubber spatula from your hands and snuggled his head on your shoulders like a kitten, “Sleep, Y/N. It’s not worth to stress over those shits.” his voice was blank as usual but you knew he meant well.

“Well those shits will be my downfall tomorrow if they can’t answer the panel’s questions.” You spat as you cracked the eggs harshly on the batter and snatched back the rubber spatula from his hand, letting out a loud huff as you continued to mix aggressively.

“Y/N…”

Silence.

“Y/N…”

“Fine.” you grumbled, “Just let me-”

“I’ll clean up.” Suna sighs, grabbing the spatula once again from your hands, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up at seven am, just in time for your class, right?”

“But i can-”

“Y/N.” Suna narrows his eyes, determined to get the last say between you two.

“Ugh.” You grumbled, shoulders slouched, “six thirty-”

“No, seven am. Your class doesn’t start until nine. You need more rest. No take-backs.”

Giving your boyfriend one last stink-eye, you slowly trudged yourself to the bedroom and just flopped yourself towards the bed. Ah, how bad could this day even get?

You shouldn’t have jinxed it.

You were almost late since the professor had moved the presentation time to eight am, thank god your apartment was near your uni, your boyfriend literally watched you shove the most decent outfit you could find and throw yourself out the door in a hurry. In the midst of the presentation, your stomach started to grumble too since you weren’t able to grab a cracker or your usual bread to go before class.

Even worse, your stink of an eye group mates weren’t able to get their parts right.

You were downright ready to throttle them, thank god that this was just a mock defense.

Your mood doesn’t exactly brighten even after the defense, you sit there and look like those cartoons who had fumes coming out of their ears. After class ended, you decided to bring it up to your professor and he tells you it’s too late to take the names out.

Your mood dampens even more.

Exiting the classroom with a scrunched up feature, you stop to see a very familiar figure standing there holding a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming hot milk on his other.

“Mornin’” Suna quietly greets you as he gives you a light feathery kiss on your cheek.

You blink.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“The professor was absent, he had some staff meeting so I decided to get you a bento box and some milk. Try to avoid coffee for the time being.” Suna explains as he transfers the cup of milk to his other hand so that he could hold your hand, “Let’s have breakfast, Y/N. You don’t have class until another hour, right?”

Before you could protest, your boyfriend drags you to the field and under the shade of a large tree to eat the bento he bought.

Suna quietly listens as you rant on about how annoying and how much you want to throttle your good-for-nothing groupmates, occasionally wiping the little crumbs on the side of your cheek, “...You should take it easy.” Suna simply replies after you finish your rant, “You’ll get a cold if you keep this up.”

“My okaasan will definitely let me live in the cold if I fail a class.” You shiver at the mental image of your mother giving you a sermon. Suna just sighs as he fixes up your trash, he could never argue with you.

“Come,” he stands up and holds out his hand for you again, “I’ll walk you to your next class.”

The sun shines brightly yet your day doesn’t get any better, you had a pop quiz on one of your weakest subjects and you couldn’t even finish the readings since you were too preoccupied with your thesis and your groupmates.

You inwardly let out a groan as you made your way to the library, your phone rings and your brows contort in confusion at the name of your boyfriend. “Hello?”

“How’s class?”

“You’re such a miracle worker.” You sighed, “You always know when to call.”

“That bad?”

“Everything just sucks, ah life feel so shitty these days-” You confessed, scratching your head in annoyance.

“Hey.” He cuts you off, voice dead serious, “It’s just a bad day, Y/N. Don’t worry, we all have these days. How many classes do you still have?”

“Just two.” you huffed out, completely frustrated by how bad your day was going.

“Take a deep breath and drink some water, alright? I’ll see you after class, let's walk home and order some takeout then sleep early alright? My class ends the same time as you today.”

“B-But…” You stop protesting, realizing that Suna would shut down the idea. Saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you take in a deep breath and do as he instructed.

Thankfully nothing major happens on the next subject and as you were about to proceed to your last class, Suna texts you that he has some milk bread on your locker and your favorite banana milk. A small smile made its way to your lips, one more subject and this wretched day was over then you’ll get to snuggle next to your boyfriend.

Again, you shouldn’t have jinxed it.

Someone had accidentally spilled the banana milk you were drinking all over your white shirt along with his cup of mocha drink (which thank god was cold because if it wasn’t, you’d be suffering a burn)

You had to sit through the whole class with the sticky feeling on your chest and that ugly slosh, you really should’ve brought a jacket today.

“Hey baby- jesus christ, Y/N what happened?”

It’s quite hard to gouge a reaction from your boyfriend most of the times but you can’t believe that something as easy as the big ugly slosh of mocha and banana milk stain on your plain white shirt would actually shock him.

You pressed your lip into a tight line, pissed, as you open your arms, “This,” you exclaimed, “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”

Suna shakes his head at your antic and just takes his sports jacket to place it on your figure, he’s awfully reminded of a Pomeranian when you’re angry but he’d never say that out loud.

Instead he softly grabs your hand and tugs it lightly, your quiet on your way home. He notices that maybe the fatigue is slowly sinking in, so the minute you guys enter your apartment, he urges you to change into your pajamas while he orders take out.

After a quick bite, you lay on top of him and snuggle on his neck, humming an unfamiliar tune as you draw circles on his chest, “Thanks.”

“Hm?’

“For being there.” You hummed, “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t my boyfriend. So yeah, thanks...”

Suna feels a small smile make its way to his lips, he doesn’t respond, instead he just kisses your head and lets you lay on his arms, “Hey Y/N…” He paused and when he notices that you’re soundly asleep on his arms, his smile turns wider. i love you, he thinks randomly as he watches you sleep, “Goodnight.” he whispers instead out loud, kissing your forehead again and hugging you into his arms.

#suna rintarou #suna rintaro imagine #suna imagines #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro scenarios #suna fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu boyfriend scenarios #haikyuu x y/n

164 notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

Non-Sequential [Ch. 24]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 3,000

Chapter 23

1943 - Italy

Steve doodled as the rain poured down around him.

His pencil traced back and forth over the dancing monkey.

“Steve?” A voice said behind him.

He did a half glance over his shoulder and quickly did a double take when he found Y/N soaking wet with only an oversized military jacket around her shoulders.

He shot to his feet.

“Y/N!”

Steve rushed forward and pulled her into his arms.

She was freezing.

He immediately took off his coat and wrapped it on top of the other one that was the only thing keeping her from being completely naked.

“Are you OK? Are you hurt? How long have you been here? Were you looking for me long?” He rattled off question after question.

She smiled. “Take a breath, Steve. I’m fine.”

She pointed for him to sit back down and followed suit.

He did as she said. Then he suddenly got bashful and embarrassed. He shifted his weight awkwardly as if he was trying to hide from her gaze.

Y/N caught on rather quickly. “How does it feel?”

Steve was speechless.

“This is your first time seeing me since your operation, isn’t it?” Y/N added, but she already knew the answer.

He just nodded, too uncomfortable to meet her gaze.

“I bet you can’t keep the girls off you,” Y/N teased.

Steve blushed. “Well, I don’t know about that – I mean, don’t be ridiculous.”

Y/N giggled.

His face dropped, “You were right. It did work.”

She gave him a warm grin. “Told you that you were the right man, didn’t I?”

Steve frowned. “Yeah, except now I’m just their show pony.”

“Now what would Agent Carter think of that?” Y/N teased.

It was such a strange game to play, pushing Steve toward Peggy when Y/N knew that she would be Steve’s second love because of her.

Y/N respected Peggy, appreciated what she’d taught Steve about love – especially what she taught him about loving a strong, independent woman.

But there were still times when jealousy reared it’s ugly head. Y/N hated those times.

Steve’s eyes widened at the mentioning of Peggy.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about her,” Y/N smirked.

“How are you?” Steve changed the subject. His eyes were serious and genuine. “Last time I saw you, you were upset with me – future me, that is.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what I’m saying. You could be visiting me from before that time. This all gets rather confusing, huh?”

Y/N chuckled at his adorable frustration and confusion, and gave him a shy smile. “No, you were right the first time. I’m visiting from further into the future.” She nodded, “Things are better. I forgave you. Don’t think there will ever be a time when I can’t.”

Steve exhaled, relieved that there wouldn’t be a time when Y/N would stop being his friend, stop talking to him, stop visiting him through time.

Y/N’s eyes glanced at Steve’s sketchbook.

“Feeling like a dancing monkey, Steve?” Her tone was playful, but the question was serious.

He quickly closed the book. He cleared his throat. “I’m traveling with dancing girls, trying to get people to buy war bonds.”

Y/N nodded, “Wars are expensive.”

“But I could be doing more,” he snapped back.

“Then do more, Steve.”

“I can’t – I’m not even officially in the army.”

Y/N laughed, “Since when have you ever followed the rules?”

He laughed too.

She carefully reached out and took his sketchbook.

Steve tensed as flipped through it. She wasn’t surprised to see a portrait or two of Peggy. There was also some of his mother. Y/N was wondering why Steve hadn’t taken to sketching any of the girls in the dancing troop he’d been traveling with.

“You ever do any sketches of…” Y/N was about to tease him and ask about drawing her. But her words died out when she flipped to two pages of portraits.

Both were of her.

She was in some form of Steve’s clothes in both of them. A ill-fitting shirt falling off her shoulder in one, pants bunching at her ankles in another.

“You weren’t ever supposed to see those…” Steve mumbled, scratching the back of his neck and lowering his head so she couldn’t see his blush.

“I’m flattered,” Y/N admitted. She took in all the details. “You made me rather beautiful, though.”

Steve scoffed without meaning to. “I only drew you how you are.”

It was Y/N who was blushing now.

Yes, in the present, where she was together with Steve, he told Y/N all the time how beautiful he found her.

But for some reason, hearing it from innocent, sweet Steve Rogers was different. He held no feelings for her and, as far as he knew, he never had a chance with Y/N. But that didn’t stop him from letting her know that she was indeed a beautiful woman.

Y/N flipped back to a drawing of Peggy. “You should tell her how you feel.”

“She doesn’t – I’m not – don’t be ridiculous, Y/N.” Steve fumbled around with his words.

No matter how long he knew Y/N, her direct way of speaking still caught him off guard every so often. The only times Y/N did not speak her mind clearly was when she could not tell Steve hints and secrets of the future.

“She does. Don’t be an idiot, Steve.” Y/N looked around. “You’re in the middle of a war. You need to make sure you find something worth fighting for.”

“And what about you?” Steve asked gently.

“I’m not fighting a war. At least… not yet.” Her eyes glazed over at the thought.

“That’s not what I meant.” Then he shifted his weight, trying to decide if he should say what he wanted to. “I meant… is there someone back where you’re from – uh – telling you – telling you that you’re beautiful.”

Y/N smirked at Steve’s awkwardness. He’d lost so much of it after all of his hardships. He’d gained so much more confidence; he was more self-assured now.

“I do,” she admitted softly.

She was going to make another joke about him drawing her, but the words got caught in her throat when she flipped to the next page.

Bucky.

Bucky standing with his crisp and clean and brand new military uniform. Hat tilted a little sideways. And that famous Bucky Barnes smirk on his lips.

Y/N’s fingers traced over the lines without even realizing it.

“He’s missing,” she blurted out.

“What?”

Her eyes shot up to him. “You’re going to find out in a few minutes. This is the 107th – or what’s left of it, I guess.”

“Y/N, you never tell – what are you saying? Bucky – is he – is he dead?”

“No, he’s alive. A prisoner of war, but alive.”

“You’ve never told me something like that before,” Steve said slowly, clearly still trying to process the news.

“Sometimes I get sick of fighting time,” Y/N sighed.

“I have to go after him,” Steve’s shoulders straightened and he was handling a surge of determination.

Y/N smiled, “Yes, you do.”

Then fear filled his gaze, “I know you can’t - or you won’t – tell me…but is he – will he be OK?”

Y/N stared into his eyes for a moment. “Yes, he will be fine.”

‘For now…’ she added in her mind.

Steve was surprised she continued to tell him of the future.

Y/N looked over her shoulder as if she could see something. But when Steve followed her gaze, not even his super-soldier sight spotted anything.

“I have to run before she finds you,” Y/N told him. “When it comes to her, you’re a terrible liar. And I don’t want you to have to explain how a naked, American woman got onto this base, completely undetected.”

Steve shot to his feet. “You’re leaving already.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. But you’ve got to go save Bucky and then you gotta get the girl.”

Then she quickly kissed him on the cheek, instantly making him go red.

He made a step for her, not wanting her to leave already.

But she was already quickly turning back to him, accidentally bringing their faces far too close to be considered just friendly.

“Try not to kiss Private Lorraine,” Y/N breathed, caught off guard by their closeness that could easily be seen as intimate.

Steve’s brow furrowed. But he couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking down to her lips quickly. “I-I don’t even know a Private Lorraine.”

“Well, you will. And you should stay away from her. You should stay away from all women like her, OK?”

He nodded, not wanting to disappoint her.

“It’ll make sense soon. I promise.”

Lo and behold, Peggy was the next woman in his life to surprise him and show up out of nowhere.

—————-

PRESENT - Wakanda

Y/N quickly walked down the halls of the royal palace. She could hear the two kings guards tailing her.

One of them cleared their throat, “Ms. Y/L/N, if it is Sergeant Barnes you are heading toward, he is actually in the training facility.”

Her brow furrowed. She was going to find Bucky, just like she always did when Steve was gone and she was lonely.

However, he was alone at his hut less and less it seemed.

Y/N would’ve been happy, proud that he was socializing himself with new people more and more frequently. But that didn’t seem to be his motivation.

She didn’t want to jump to any ridiculous conclusions, but she started to feel like Bucky didn’t want to be alone with her.

Even when he had asked for him to teach her self-defense, Bucky insisted that they also enlist some of the Dora Milaje. He said it would help since he only had one arm and he didn’t want her education to suffer because of it. But Y/N knew Bucky could take down Steve with a single arm if he so wished, therefore it felt like weak reasoning.

Y/N had been in Wakanda for a year now and she’d found a routine in her life.

She no longer felt like a foreigner, but a proper member of Wakandan society – despite the fact that she lived in a royal palace.

Steve would need to leave to meet up with the team every so often, but he always tried his best not to return as quickly as possible.

Y/N still had nightmares of her kidnapping, her torture, her near death experience that she could only blame Hydra for. She was sick of hating her time traveling affliction.

When Steve asked her if she was having them when he was away, Y/N always lied. What good would it do either of them for him to worry and feel guilty about being away?

The nightmares were one of the main reasons she finally asked Bucky to teach her self-defense.

Y/N would’ve asked Steve, but she didn’t want to make him stay in captain mode any longer than he already did. He also was almost too patient with her. She needed to be pushed.

When Y/N walked into the gym, Bucky was doing one-armed pushups.

He had no shirt on and there was just a pair of black shorts and sneakers – which Shuri most definitely designed – covering his body.

Wakandan hip-hop was playing on the speakers, which was why Y/N didn’t recognize it. Shuri had taken it upon herself to help Y/N teach Bucky anything and everything pop culture.

The kings guards left Y/N to it. Whenever she was with Bucky, they didn’t see the need to linger. He would protect her.

Bucky heard their arrival and his head snapped up.

He quickly jumped to his feet when he spotted Y/N and gave a small nod of acknowledgement to her guards.

Y/N tried not to stare at Bucky’s ridiculously muscular and sweaty chest. She did. But it was damn near impossible.

His and Steve’s bodies were ridiculous. God-like is what most women would confess.

Furthermore, Y/N got to see how Steve put his to use… in ways no one else knew about.

“You wanna keep rubbing it in my face that you can do hundreds of pushups with one arm while I can’t even do 5 with both of mine?” Y/N greeted him.

Bucky chuckled, and Y/N swore she made him blush. Or maybe that was just from working out.

“You just gotta work at it, kid. I’ve got the advantage of a super-soldier serum.”

There it was again. That nickname. When he said it, Y/N realized he hadn’t used it in quite some time.

But Y/N pushed the thought out of her head and rolled her eyes teasingly.

“Yeah, I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to still do all of those without it.”

As soon as her feet stepped onto the padded flooring Bucky was waiting on, he kicked Y/N’s legs out from underneath her.

He did it so smoothly and quickly that Y/N could’ve blinked and missed it. The only proof being that she was now laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her head was aching from hitting the ground hard.

“Bucky! What the actual fuck!” She screamed.

He tried not to look too pleased with himself. “Last lesson, I told you that you needed to learn to always be prepared. Most attacks are going to be a surprise. If you don’t train your body to always be ready, all the other stuff is pointless.”

Y/N glared at him. “Way to build trust...” But then she quickly rolled back to her feet.

Without really thinking her plan through, Y/N lunged for him. She meant it to distract him from her actual intentions, which were to knee him right in the balls.

Payback is payback.

But Bucky easily deflected all efforts. And he absolutely knew what she was trying to do.

“Ya trying to play dirty?” He asked with a smile.

“Just trying to get even,” Y/N snapped.

She knew she wasn’t going to get any damn hit in. She was a civilian jousting with the Winter Soldier. She didn’t stand a chance.

But Y/N did know is that Bucky wouldn’t ever hurt her. In fact, he would put himself in harms way to make sure that didn’t happen.

So, Y/N decided to use that to her advantage.

If she wanted to take him down, she had to go down with him.

Y/N lunged for him at a weird angle, hoping her own weight combined with gravity would be enough to drag him down with her.

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly as he realized Y/N’s body was about to hit the ground hard and quick, and at an angle that would easily dislocate her shoulder.

He shifted his weight so his back hit the ground and he took all of the blow, Y/N having his body as a cushion to land on.

“You OK?” He asked hurriedly. Even though there was no way she could’ve harmed herself.

Y/N nodded and smiled mischievously. “Had to figure out a way to bring you down…”

Then Bucky snapped back to reality.

He was laying on his back with Y/N laying on top of him. Her chest pressed against his. Her hands were spread across his bare chest, able to feel his skin. Her warmth was enveloping him. When did his grip on her go so low on her hips? He could feel her heartbeat, and then he felt it quicken when a silence settled between them and they realized how unsuitably close they were.

But swore he didn’t mean. He tried with all of his might not to take a glimpse at her lips. But his eyes were no longer in his control.

Now he was panicked.

He quickly ushered her off of him, almost being rough about it.

Y/N misread his panic as irritation with her.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “Did I hurt you?”

Of course she didn’t hurt him.

“I’m fine,” Bucky mumbled without looking at her.

Y/N was finally able to acknowledge that something was off between the two of them, and it had been for awhile. She wasn’t sure if she could put her finger on when it started, but it felt like it had been since she showed up at his doorstep after seeing him bleeding out in the snow. She’d killed a Hydra agent that day trying to protect him.

“You don’t call me ‘kid’ anymore,” she accused him.

Bucky’s brow creased as he finally looked up at her. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, you did earlier. But that was the first time in months.” Then she gestured at the giant and empty training facility. “This is the first time we’ve actually been alone in months too. What’s going on, Bucky? Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he muttered swiftly.

“Then what is it? Because something is – it’s off. We’re off.”

But Bucky just stared into her gaze.

He couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t explain what he was going through.

He couldn’t tell her that he was trying to keep his distance, trying to prove to his best friend that he wasn’t trying to steal his girl. But he couldn’t stay away from her either. He couldn’t leave her be when both of them were so alone here.

Bucky couldn’t tell her he was in love with her.

What would be the point?

The two kings guards returned. “Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Yeah,” she muttered without breaking her stare down with Bucky.

“Captain Rogers just landed. We thought you may wish to know.”

Y/N finally blinked and turned to them, “Thank you.” Then she turned and promptly left without saying another word to Bucky.

As soon as he was alone, Bucky rubbed his face and paced. “What the hell are you thinking, Bucky?” He whispered to himself.

------------------------

Chapter 25

It only took me 2+ months, guys! Please, please, please let me know how you feel and what you think. ❤️

#non-sequential #non-sequential chapter 24 #non-sequential series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers series #captain america seri #captain america x reader #captain america read insert #marvel reader insert #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers & bucky barnes #steve rogers angst #pre serum steve rogers #pre-serum!steve rogers #pre serum!steve rogers x reader #pre serum steve rogers x reader

568 notes · View notes

lifewouldbebetteronmars · 3 years

Text

Castle Towers Fall

Chapter 5 *Slight Angst Warning* *Charles Fairchild Warning*

November 1901; Paris, France

Alastair had been in Paris for about two months now and he absolutely loved it. The first time he had been in Paris, he was ten and didn’t get to enjoy it because of his father and his “illness”. But now, he got to see the museums and the Eiffel Tower, without his father to ruin in it by passing out in a bar somewhere.

No, his family was far away in Bombay at the moment, the newest place they had moved to, right before Alastair left for his travel year. While he loved and missed his mother and sister, he couldn’t help but feel relieved to be free of his father’s burden and the stress of keeping it a secret from Cordelia. Speaking of Layla, her birthday was coming up next month and he needed to send her something. Maybe a new mythology book, he thought as he saw a mundane book shop in front of him.

He walked in and sent a small, cordial smile towards the cashier at the front as he went searching for a section on mythology. Alastair browsed for a few minutes before finding a book on Persian mythology, which happened to be his sister’s favorite. He was reading the back of the book, heading to the cashier’s desk, when he accidentally bumped into someone walking passed him.

“Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Alastair apologized, turning around to look at the person he had bumped into. He had bumped into a girl with long curly hair, who looked to be a few years older than him, but there was something odd about her expression when she saw his face. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. “Miss, are you alright? You look a little pale.” he asked, equal parts concerned and creeped out.

The girl’s eyes refocused and widened at the realization that she’d been staring, and started to apologized profusely for doing so. “I’m so sorry. You just look a lot like someone I used to know. You don’t by any chance happen to have the last name Verlac, do you?” she asked and now it was Alastair’s turn for his eyes to widen. Verlac. That was the name of his mother’s first husband, the one that died within the first year of their marriage.

“No, I’m afraid not. But my mother was married to a Verlac before she was married to my father. Theodor Verlac, I believe that was his name.” Alastair replied, straightening up.

“That’s who I’m talking about. Theodor Verlac was a cousin of mine, you just look a lot like him. It’s quite odd really. Anyways, I’m Filomena Di Angelo, from the Rome Institute. And you are?” Filomena said, holding out her hand for Alastair to shake.

“Alastair Carstairs, I’m currently at the Paris Institute. It’s my travel year.” he replied, shaking her hand. “I would love to stay and talk more, but I must be getting back to the Institute. I have early patrols in the morning.” Alastair quickly bid Filomena goodbye and hurried over to the cashier’s desk to pay for the book.

Once he got back to his room at the Paris Institute, Alastair sighed and began to write a letter home to Cordelia, even though his mind was running a mile a minute. He gave up on writing the letter after three failed attempts at trying to get his hand to stop jostling the pen, creating ink splatters on his stationary. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, it was getting longer and needed a trim soon before it got too long.

All Alastair could think about Filomena’s words and how she said he had reminded her of his mother’s first husband, who was long dead by the time he had been born, nearly a year before. It wasn’t too bizarre was it? That he had been conceived within the first month of his parents’ marriage and only two months after the death of Theodor Verlac. Maybe...no, Alastair don’t be silly, he thought to himself in an attempt to make his mind stop. He knew his mother would never lie about his parentage, right? It just had to be a coincidence that he looked a bit like his dead husband.

He sighed and held his head in his hands, trying to calm himself down. He only looked up when he heard his door opening and closing. Charles Fairchild was standing there, staring at him.

“Are you alright, Alastair darling?” he whispered, coming around to wrap his arms around Alastair’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. Ah yes, that. That was new. Him and Charles.

It started two weeks after he had come to Paris, he’d been apprehensive at first, to a relationship, but it worked out well in his opinion. They would meet up in Alastair’s room whenever Charles didn’t have anything to do at night, mostly ignoring each other during the daytime. The secrecy of it all felt...thrilling. And Alastair loved that thrill, it made him feel more alive than he had in years.

“I’m just fine Charles, I have a lot on my mind.” he excused, hoping Charles would drop it and they would continue on.

Charles rose an eyebrow. “Penny for your thoughts?” Damnit, he really hoped Charles would drop it. Guess not.

“I don’t feel like talking it about it. It’s silly anyway.” It’s definitely silly.

“Are you sure?” Charles asked.

“Definitely. I think I just need a distraction.” Alastair hoped Charles knew what that meant.

“I think I can help with that.”

Note:

I’m sorry this took so long to post but I ended up being really busy this weekend and have been writing when I can. Can anyone guess what part I cringed writing? I think it’s blatantly obvious

Tags:

@lovefairchild

@alastaircarstairsourboi

@styxdrawings

@this-person-is-a-hoe

@imchaotic-dontmindme

@devikaontheoffbeat

@banescrown

@lucie-herondale-blackthorn

#yes i really added a warning for charles #he needs one #castle towers fall #ceo of the first alastair verlac fic #alastair carstairs fic #alastair verlac fic #the last hours fic #alastair carstairs #alastair verlac

42 notes · View notes

peaky-whore · 4 years

Text

What Happens to the Heart • J. Shelby [Part One]

Pairing: John Shelby x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,656

Warning: None

Summary: You’re the best of friends with John.

A/n: This is in your point of view. Also, I’m sorry is this doesn’t make sense, it will eventually. And there is a memory in here, so that’ll be the italics. Overall, this is just the beginning!

To say John and I were the best of friends would be an understatement, the two of us were inseparable from the day we met; wherever he was, there was no doubt I’d be right by him. Dangerous, or not.

Most of the time, though, folks thought we were in a relationship, something along those lines. Other times, we’d get ourselves into trouble, Polly - my mom also - wouldn’t be pleased to talk us out of jail. To make it short, we’d get smacked in the back of the head by our guardians whilst on the way to Watery Lane, along with lectures on how to behave, I was even told that my actions are not ladylike. They still loved us, I know that much.

Our closeness brought me unexpected feelings for the Shelby boy, and though we told each other everything - from my first kiss to his first fuck - I would never admit how I felt towards him. Especially since he found a girl he fancies. There was no way I was going to break them up, I loved him too much to do something destructive as that.

So there I sit, awaiting his arrival at the Garrison. I couldn’t even order a damn drink without him. But as minutes turned into a half hour, and that an hour, I gave up. He wasn’t coming, Martha probably needed him more than I, but as a good friend, I’m okay with that; as a secret admirer, however, I felt jealous - I just despised the thought of it - upset that he’d ditch me here.

Just as I was going to walk out, here came the handsome, blue eyed man himself. He looked to be panting.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but Martha kept me. Sit. I have something to tell you.” He explained, hooking his arm with mine and pulling me to a secluded table. The smile he wore was one I have never seen before, so I couldn’t help but follow along and sit across from him.

The news must have been too important for drinks.

He looked at me, a smile still plastered on his flawless face, one that will most definitely be stuck in my mind for days on end. John looked like a little boy, happy that he was told he had good manners and behaviour in school, whilst really, he was quite the opposite. Except the manners, he had those covered.

I rested my arms on the table and leaned forward, impatiently waiting for him to speak. “Oh, get on with it John.” There is no way I’m playing the guessing game tonight.

“Martha, she’s with child. My child. Y/n, I’m gonna be a father.” It felt as if he’d spoken a foreign language, one I couldn’t understand but still heard. I’m sure my expression is surprised, since he waited for me to talk. I simply couldn’t.

Before he started to ask questions, I cleared my throat and threw on a forced smile. “Congratulations, John-boy. You’re a man now, I hope you know.” He let out a playful scoff and an eye roll, making us laugh.

“I’ve always been a man.” He replied, giving a smug smirk at the end. His eyes met mine for a brief moment before looking towards the shelves of liquor behind me. “I think this deserves a drink, eh?” Before I could answer him, he got up, lifted me by the arm and drug me across the nearly empty pub, and ordered us whiskey - an entire bottle to be precise.

This happened until the war broke out, boys across Europe were being sent to fight for their people, or enlisting, including John, and his two elder brothers, Arthur and Thomas. By then, Martha was pregnant with their fourth child, meaning she’d be alone for the birth of their baby girl, or boy. And she was, but Polly, Ada, Finn, and I were present, keeping her company before and after she went into labour.

It’s been four years since the boys left, leaving families behind, I know some won’t be returning, and it breaks my heart just thinking about it. There will be so many mothers, sisters, aunts, and wives without their men. And the ones that do return are going to be stuck with those God awful memories, nightmares.

Since they left, I’ve been the opposite of trouble, I’d actually gone to church with Polly and her little clan, along with Martha and her children. I prayed for the boy’s safety, that included my two elder brothers and the many cousins I have. They all meant the world to me, each of them taught me something valuable, and I couldn’t let the thought of them not coming home get the better of me, so I turned to God. Polly turned me to God.

And because so many unspeakable events happened in these long, devastating four years, all I wanted was my brothers home, and John. How I longed for him.

It must be pathetic to be falling this hard for your best friend - your now best friend’s husband - I hated how much I wanted him for myself. He’s got a beautiful wife, smart and rowdy children, there’s no way I could be that selfish. John has what he always wanted, a family of his own.

What kind of monster would try to take him away from those he cared for and loved? The question was branded into my brain and was beyond hard to ignore.

Tragedy struck when Martha fell ill, her sickness was beyond the doctors, and she was put on bed rest until it was her time to go. I couldn’t face not having her around, she and I became rather close - practically sisters - in the last few years. As time went on, she died peacefully in her and John’s shared home. Their children were heartbroken, they were young but old enough to know what death is.

Since her funeral, Polly put me on nanny duty, knowing she didn’t have time for them and the betting shop, I agreed. During the first few weeks, the children were a mess, throwing tantrums for their mother, refusing any food I cooked and bedtime. They soon got comfortable with me around more, until Polly announced she heard Germany had surrendered and all countries agreed to stop fighting until their negotiation was set.

Although I was still mourning the loss of Martha, I couldn’t be anymore happy that our boys will be coming home to us. The kids were beyond the moon that their dad was returning, and so it was the same thing all over again; they were acting up again, asking for their daddy.

I promised them soon.

Which brought us here, Birmingham train station, with loads of women and children, along with relatives of the men’s families. I held Daniel at my hip, glancing up from him telling me about his day every once in a while to see if the train was near, surely I would hear it if it were nearby.

This morning, early this morning, I would pinch myself to see if this were a cruel dream, or if it were real.

“I hear it!” Exclaimed Ada, her arms draped around Finn’s shoulders, keeping him in place so he doesn’t wander off. She gave a big smile and as if on queue, I heard the horn from a distance.

My heart rapidly pounded against my chest. It’ll be the first time in four years that I’ve seen my brothers. What scares me most is that they’ll be mad at me for not writing and telling any of them about our mother, but she made me promise not too until they got home, so I kept my word.

The train took another five minutes before it stopped in front of us, all our men were soon off once the doors opened. I searched from where I was standing for the two goofs that were my brothers, of course, not like I didn’t expect it, they stepped off with blank expressions; no look of happiness to be home.

I couldn’t help but let my tears flow. They’re not the same boys I grew up with, but men who’ve experienced more than they should whilst on the battlefield. The boys who used to be carefree and adventurous were not the men standing mere feet away from me. I secured Daniel before squeezing through the crowded train station, almost face to face with my older brothers. They looked different but I still recognized their faces.

Their cold gazes met my figure and softened. Immediately, I was embraced by both of them, sobbing onto their uniforms in no time.

“Is . . . is this real?” I asked frantically, not wanting them to disappear if I were to let go of them. They let out light chuckles and nodded.

“I’m afraid so, little sister, you can’t rid us that easy.” Mason jokes, trying to lighten up the mood, I could see his eyes searching for someone. Our mum. How am I going to tell them? It’ll be more difficult than I thought now that they’re here.

Andrew looked down at Daniel, his eyes lighting up. “Got yourself a bloke I see. Hope he’s treated you well whilst we were away.” He started to make silly faces at the boy in my arms, causing him to giggle. I shook my head, tightening my hold on him so he wouldn’t accidentally fall.

“He’s a sweetheart, but if you look closely, the boy resembles a Shelby. I’ve taken on the care of Martha and John’s lovely children since she died.” They looked at me like I sprouted two heads. “Yeah. Almost a year ago. Pestilence.”

But before another word was spoken, I was being embraced by someone else. Someone oddly familiar. Nonetheless, I wrapped my arms around them, feeling a sudden warmth, one I’d been missing more and more as the years went on.

“John.”

•••

If you enjoyed reading this, please leave a like, reblog, or comment! Feedback is welcome!

#j. shelby #john shelby #peaky blinders #john shelby x reader #john shelby x you #peaky blinders fics #my work

42 notes · View notes

betweensceneswriter · 4 years

Text

Island Hopper-Chapter 17b: Sugar Sickness

Brand new chapter, but out of sequence. Posted 10-16-2020

Previously Chapter 17: Bitter Jamie and Claire have different ideas about what being back together should look like.

ISLAND HOPPER Table of Contents

Back to work, we meet someone important, and an illness leads to an early parting.

“Thirsty. Lukkuun thirsty. Alap awa.”

Perkaj’s mother wiped her son’s forehead with a cool washcloth, looking at me with concern.

“Lukuun kilep. Now, bery skinny.”

A group of children—siblings, cousins, and interested neighborhood kids—crowded around the mat where the little boy lay, feverish and unresponsive. It had taken me several tries to say his name correctly. Finally a patient cousin had grabbed my hand to get my attention. “Him name Purr Gus” the little boy had said clearly, smiling as I repeated it.

My heart had sunk at her first words. Perkaj was thirsty all the time? Just that one word had given me a preliminary diagnosis. I was almost positive it was type I diabetes. And how was a person to manage type one diabetes out on an outer island? Spare insulin needed to be kept at a moderate room temperature. Since it didn’t often get above 85°F in the islands, it wouldn’t have to be refrigerated, but it would last longer if kept cool. And if he ever ran out of it, he could quickly slip into a diabetic coma from high blood sugar.

That was what appeared to be happening right now.

I spread open my black bag—an iconic black leather satchel like the doctor’s bags of olden days. I located the supplies I needed and pulled out the blood sugar monitor from its protective plastic bag, unwrapping a stiff testing strip and slipping it in the slot in the tester, then twisting off the plastic tip of the lancet.

I heard the intake of breath as the children saw the gleam of the sharp lancet tip and sensed them all bending closer as I picked up Perkaj’s small hand and firmly pricked his fingertip.

Watching his face for a response, I was grateful to see a shadow pass over his features at the pain. At least there was a little consciousness still.

Turning back to my task, I squeezed his finger and watched as the burgundy swell of blood appeared on his skin. I gestured with my head toward the tester on the mat, and several pairs of small hands reached for it, one child passing it to me so I could meet the testing tip to the droplet of blood.

A chorus of “ohhhs” was the response as the absorbent testing strip slurped the droplet of blood off Perkaj’s fingertip.

“I need to be able to see,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t too sharp. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings, but all the little heads were blocking the light from outside.

“Move,” ordered one of the mamas. “Etal,” she added in Marshallese. My little audience backed away reluctantly and I breathed a sigh of relief as a gentle breeze of cooler air from outside swept through the small house.

My fears were confirmed when the tester flashed Perkaj’s current blood sugar level. 615. Six hundred and fifteen? Healthy was under 120. Elevated was anything over 200. Four hundred was seriously high. Six hundred? No wonder the boy, his features slack in unconsciousness, was so feverish. Perkaj had indeed slipped into a diabetic coma.

Although my medical bag held a multitude of items, insulin was not one of them. The small stock of insulin I had was kept in the clinic in a brick enclosure. There may have been no means of refrigeration, but whoever had built the clinic had realized that caves tended to be cooler than the surrounding area and had created—in essence—a small root cellar for storing medicines that were sensitive to temperature.

“I have to go get medicine,” I said, my Marshallese failing me in the moment of stress. “Kottar jiddik—wait a little bit—and I’ll be back.”

Perkaj’s house was in the town of Ine, just a half mile or so from the clinic. I broke into a jog, trying to ignore the sensation of sharp rocks under the thin rubber of my flip-flops. The sooner I got some insulin into him, the sooner Perkaj would recover and the fewer side effects he would suffer.

“I’m not enough,” I panicked as I jogged. “I don’t know enough. I recognize diabetes, but I’m not an endocrinologist. I need a doctor. Perkaj needs the hospital.”

The plans for the coming days swirled in my head. Jamie and John were working on the solar still. John would be leaving on the Jolok boat tomorrow—he needed to be back to Majuro on Thursday. Jamie and I had planned to ride the fishing boat with Kona on Thursday evening, knowing that our flight didn’t leave until Friday. We had scheduled a little time for shopping on Majuro Friday morning. We wouldn’t need a hotel; Jamie had mentioned our need of a place to stay Thursday night to Mr. MacKenzie before he left on the final leg of the field ship voyage, at which Dougal had grinned and said Revka would be happy to sleep at a friend’s house so we could have her room.

I was trotting past the Iroij’s palace when I realized I should call the hospital, remembering that the Iroij had one of the two satellite phones on the island.

I smiled shyly at the man sitting on a chair by the gate into the Iroij’s property. “Is the Iroij here?” I asked. My brain scrambled for the words in Marshallese. “Iroij ijin?”

He nodded toward the house with a low “Ayet, ijo,” and I walked up the white gravel pathway to the Iroij’s door.

I’m not sure why I was surprised when the Iroij himself opened his door, but I smiled at the stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair cropped short, wearing a sarong and an embroidered island shirt, his outfit completed with bare feet.

“Miss Beauchamp!” he exclaimed. “I mean, Mrs. Fraser.” His smile was warm, and he urged me into the large open room lit by electric lights. It was a simple building, but in comparison to most of the dwellings on Arno it was lavish.

“Thank you, Iroi… Sir… Your honor?”

“Call me Mayor Timisen,” he urged at my apparent discomfort. He had gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs in the main room, and he leaned forward once we were both seated, urging me to speak.

I was grateful he spoke such fluent English as I explained to him what seemed to be ailing Perkaj. Although it wasn’t going to cause an instant death, high blood sugar meant that glucose wasn’t getting into the body’s cells, and organ failure was a possible consequence of elevated blood sugar left too long without treatment.

“Perkaj needs to go to the hospital,” I said. “Can we use the satellite phone to contact them and ask what we should do?”

He nodded slowly, then got up and went to his desk, coming back with the chunky black satellite phone. I eyed it with mixed emotions as I watched him dial a number and then hold the phone to his ear. Just seeing the phone brought back a flurry of remembered events that had led to my first satellite call out here—

That dark night after my trip to Matolen with Sharbella, I had ridden with Jamie on his bike back to the clinic… later, lying next to him under our makeshift mosquito-net tent—after he'd said it would be inappropriate to hang out in my apartment after dark —we had been looking up at the stars and talking when I’d accidentally called him Frank…

I remembered the sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach when Jamie pulled away from me, and the deepening discomfort a few days later when Angus confronted me about my behavior towards Jamie, when he told me the engagement ring on my finger was about the only part of me that was engaged…

My heart sank at the memory of the night I took care of baby Maxson when he was sicker than I could deal with in my primitive clinic, waking the next morning to find that the infant was dead.

I remembered the pain of Jamie discovering me on the beach and trying to comfort me, only having to force him away. I could picture him seated on a mat with Rupert and Angus across the gravel-strewn yard at Maxson’s funeral, and I remembered trying to convince Anni and myself that I truly didn’t want him.

I chuckled as I recalled Anni and that crazy midnight run to the fishing dock on the ocean side to see the miracle of the full moon. But that joy was followed by Frank’s letter—familiar handwriting crushing my soul as he told me he didn’t want to wait for me, that he was breaking up with me.

That pain had been followed by the comfort of Jamie’s arms, by tender murmured reassurances and his touch when I went to him in the darkness, desperately needing to not be alone. And later, I had slept in his bed with him, curling in the hollow of his form, reassured by his even breathing, his warmth, and the solid substance of his body behind me.

The comfort of Jamie's kindness was replaced by Angus’s disappointed, bitter voice the next morning, accusing me of sleeping with—not just ‘sleeping with’—Jamie, telling me that since I wouldn’t stay away from the young man on my own, he was going to have to take more drastic measures.

And then I could vividly picture the Iroij standing outside my door, handing me a black phone and telling me the person on the other end was Mr. MacKenzie— that I was being summoned to UniServe headquarters.

Now I looked at the white gold circle on my right hand for a moment and then back at that boxy black phone held by the Iroij and found myself shaking my head, gratefully astonished at how that story had ended; hoping that this sequence of events would have a similarly positive end.

Mr. Timisen held the phone out to me then, lifting me out of my deep deja vu. After taking a breath, I quickly explained the situation to the emergency room physician on the other end of the line.

“We could try to catch the Jolok boat tomorrow,” I said. “I have some insulin. I could administer it and try to monitor his blood sugar, but I’m concerned that if I gave him too much, he could die. And he has a high temperature and is almost unresponsive—he can’t stay at this blood sugar level without doing drastic damage to his organs.”

There was static on the line and I wondered if the connection had been severed, but then the doctor’s calming voice came back on.

“We can’t do much until you get the patient here, unfortunately,” the physician said. “Administer insulin and monitor his blood sugar. Perhaps the Iroij could charter a private flight so you could get here sooner.”

The conversation was loud enough that the Iroij heard the request. He nodded to me reassuringly, reaching for the phone and bidding the physician farewell, then dialing another number and having a brief conversation in Majel. I assumed he was calling the Majuro airport.

“The plane could meet you at the landing strip beyond Jabo. Are you able to transport the patient there by truck?”

I nodded, then told the physician that we could get him to the landing strip within an hour and a half. Mayor Timisen smiled reassuringly at me, going into the hallway and calling out into one of the other rooms. In a few moments, a young man entered. At Mr. Timisen’s terse command, he quickly trotted away, I assumed to go locate the island truck.

“Can you travel with him?” the physician asked me over the phone. “The plane has room for the patient and a parent, but a doctor or nurse should go along as well.”

“Don’t you send a nurse or EMT out on the plane?” I asked.

“Not unless it’s a heart attack or severe injury. We’re understaffed as it is,” he responded.

With a few last directions, the doctor and I hung up, and Mr. Timisen assured me that they would bring the truck to the clinic to pick me up and then take my patient to the air strip on the way towards Arno Arno.

As anxious as I was feeling, I was actually grateful to run the rest of the way home. I felt calmer knowing that I would soon be getting Perkaj to a hospital where he would have the round-the-clock monitoring I was incapable of providing on my own.

After unlocking the clinic, with shaking hands I removed the vials of insulin from the medication locker. Making sure I had syringes and a few glucose packets to counteract the effects of accidentally giving Perkaj too much insulin, I locked up the clinic and entered the apartment.

What was I supposed to take with me? I hadn’t yet packed my big suitcase for Guam, so I threw a few dresses, bras, and pairs of panties in a backpack, along with my conditioner and skincare bag. Then I pulled my larger suitcase from under the bed and loaded it as quickly as I could, though I couldn’t tell if I had what I needed for our trip. I’d been planning on a leisurely evening of packing once I had been done for the day at the clinic. An evening of packing, followed by some more quality time with my husband…

My heart sunk at that thought. My memories of those days of sadness without Jamie had made me long to be close to him again. As I remembered that night when Frank broke up with me, I could almost sense Jamie’s warm comfort next to me in his bed. And today, helplessly looking at Perkaj lying limp and unresponsive on the mat on the floor had brought back those feelings of powerlessness I had felt with baby Maxson. I could feel my need for Jamie in the pit of my stomach, but I steeled myself. This was a time I was going to be strong without him.

But I couldn’t just leave without telling Jamie where I was going. I went out to the side yard where I discovered him and John working, the two men standing in remarkably similar positions with arms crossed, heads cocked to one side, looking in puzzlement at the structure in front of them. It looked a little like a terrarium or sunroom, with a slanting glass roof on top of an enclosed wooden box. As I watched, they each moved a few steps to the right, resuming the same quizzical posture when they stopped. I chuckled at their incidental resemblance, the tall, broad-shouldered, auburn-haired Scot and his slighter, dark-haired Marshallese friend.

“Claire, come see,” Jamie said, ushering me over and pulling me under his arm. “We put an inch or so of well water into the reservoir there,” he explained, drawing me toward the structure and pointing at the shallow pan that stretched the entire length and width of the base of the still. “The water soaks up into the black cloth draped over those blocks, which heat in the sun and then the water evaporates from the fabric, traveling upward as the heat rises.”

“But the sloping glass ceiling traps the moisture inside the still,” John continued as he came close on my other side, “and as the air outside is cooler, it condenses on the inside of the glass.”

“We’re trying to figure out the right angle for the glass,” Jamie said, “so that the water doesn’t drip back into the pan but instead dribbles down the glass and finally into this channel,”—here he pointed at a sloping half-pipe near the lowest part of the glass, cupped upward underneath a line of something that looked like clear caulk, where the droplets of water that had snaked their way down the glass-collecting surface were stopped from sliding further, growing into larger and larger reservoirs until their weight overpowered the surface tension and gravity forced them to fall. I could see a thin stream of water in the bottom of the pipe, slowly flowing toward the place where the pipe exited the still and entered flexible tubing threaded into the top of a large water jug on the ground.

“It looks great babe,” I said, finally grabbing Jamie’s arm to stop him. “But I don’t have time right now. I have to take a plane to the Majuro hospital,” I said quickly, before he could speak.

“What?” he exclaimed with an involuntary squeeze closer to him, looking me up and down as if I were the one injured. “Have ye been hurt?”

“No, it’s Perkaj,” I said. “You’ve mentioned how Rupert said he’s been losing weight the last few months and hasn’t had much energy at school. Well, there’s a reason for it. I’m almost positive he’s diabetic!”

From the look on his face, I could see it hadn’t completely sunk in yet, but when the truck pulled up in front of the house at that very moment, Jamie questioned me again. “Truly? You are leaving now? You are going to Majuro? Today?”

I nodded quickly, slinging the strap of my backpack over one shoulder. “I started packing my suitcase for Christmas, but I’m sure I’ve forgotten something. Can you finish packing for me?

Jamie had his hand around my upper arm, a grip that expressed what he couldn’t seem to be able to say. His forehead was wrinkled, his face clearly communicating that he objected to my departure.

“I’ve gotta go, babe,” I said, beginning to move toward the truck. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening when you get to Majuro on the fish boat?”

Jamie still looked bewildered, but a sudden certainty flooded over his face and he took two quick steps to me and crushed me in his arms.

“Be safe,” he murmured into my hair. “I canna believe I’m losing ye again so soon.”

Gently pushing me out to arm’s length, he met my eyes. “I love ye, hen,” he said, stooping to firmly kiss me on the lips once more before urging me toward the waiting vehicle. John and Jamie followed me as I went to the truck, and Jamie offered a hand as I climbed up into the bed of the pickup.

“I love you too,” I mouthed, blowing him a kiss as the truck drove off nearly before I’d settled myself on the truck bed. He watched, waving until I couldn’t see him anymore.

Once at Perkaj’s house, I waded through the crowd of concerned well-wishers, thankful for Mayor Timisen’s ability to translate and explain to Perkaj’s family what we were doing. The biggest challenge was determining which family member should travel along with the boy. Perkaj’s mother was eliminated as a good option because the boy had several younger siblings, one of which was a nursing infant. I couldn’t follow the entire conversation, but Mr. Timisen also explained to me that Perkaj’s father was out fishing and wouldn’t be back until dark. After some rapid fire conversations in Marshallese, it was determined that his auntie Maria—a lovely girl of around twenty—would come along with Perkaj so he had family to watch over him.

As the family had debated who would travel with Perkaj, I had re-tested his blood sugar. Finding it still over six hundred, I gave him eight units of fast-acting insulin, hoping that each unit would drop his blood sugar by about 50. I knew the ride to the air strip would take a half hour or so, and expected the helicopter ride to Majuro to be about the same. I would continue to monitor Perkaj’s blood sugar level as we traveled, but I could feel my agitation easing at the promise of a more updated facility and an ICU where my young patient’s progress could be closely monitored.

The process of transferring Perkaj to the truck was accomplished by a group of four young men who gripped the corners of the woven pandanus mat on which Perkaj had been sleeping, and using it like a stretcher, carried him out to the truck and unceremoniously slid the mat into the bed of the truck. I had grabbed a blanket from my house so we could cover him and then his auntie and I sat on either side of him to keep him from rolling as the truck drove down the bumpy island road.

When we reached the air strip, I got out of my cramped sitting position. I tested Perkaj’s blood sugar again and was pleased to see that it had dropped, but not with such rapidity that I would have to worry about his sugar level getting dangerously low..

I’d traveled over the air strip several times since my arrival on the island. Each time we’d gone on the Jolok boat, the time I’d heading out on the Field Ship trip, and then returning back home again all necessitated driving through that narrow stretch of the island. But this time it wasn’t as green as I remembered from my first arrival on the island. The grass on either side of the wide-open swath of land was yellowed, a sign of the continuing drought.

Maria smiled at me as I stretched and bent over to touch my toes, preparing for another half hour or more of sitting in a cramped position before arriving in Majuro. She was patting Perkaj’s hand gently, her forehead wrinkling as she looked at his expressionless face.

“He will be okay?” she asked. “Ejjab mej?”

“Ejab malele,” I said sadly, shaking my head. “I really don’t know if he will die. But I hope not.” I tried to smile for her.

By the time we had been loaded onto the plane with Perkaj strapped onto a gurney that was then locked into place, he was moaning. Though it sounded worse, and though his face wrinkled more furiously when I again pricked another finger to test his blood sugar, I was relieved to see the gradual signs of a return to consciousness.

Before we landed at the Majuro airport, Perkaj’s blood sugar had dropped to 420, which although still horrible, was a significant improvement.

There was an ambulance waiting for us on the runway. As we rode the twenty minutes to the hospital, I briefed the EMT on Perkaj’s symptoms. He tested Perkaj’s blood sugar again and I was glad to see it had dropped yet a few more points.

By midnight I was beyond tired. I had sat, holding Perkaj and Maria’s hands, trying to understand the Marshallese explanations given by the medical professionals, trying to reassure the young Marshallese girl that her nephew was going to recover. I was weary but grateful that Perkaj’s blood sugar was at a reasonable level.

“Lass, why dinna you come to our house for the night,” said a familiar voice.

“Mr. MacKenzie?” I asked. This time Dougal seemed completely unsurprised when I stood and hugged him. In fact, he even patted my back gently before releasing me and picking up my backpack. Speaking briefly to Maria, he took me by the hand and led me from the hospital.

I was so exhausted I refused the offers of food made by Moneo. I simply slipped off my sandals, lay down on the couch in the living room, pulled a light blanket over myself and fell asleep.

Something about being on Dougal’s couch brought back such intense memories that all night I dreamed of cuddling next to Jamie the night after we got engaged. One dream-memory was so vivid that it startled me awake.

In the middle of that night after our sudden decision to get married I had found myself tossing and turning on the mat on the floor in Revka’s room. You’re an impulsive idiot, my brain told me. This is a rebound. You don’t really want to marry Jamie—you just didn't want to lose him as a friend.

I had gotten up as quietly as possible and slipped through Revka’s door, standing in the darkened living room trying to let my eyes get used to the darkness.

“What’re ye doin’?” a deep voice murmured from the couch.

“You’re awake?” I asked, moving a few steps forward.

“Canna sleep,” he responded. I could see a faint movement as he scooted over on the couch, and I tiptoed to him, finding his hand reaching out to me to guide me around the coffee table.

“Here,” he said, drawing me down to lie on the edge of the couch in front of him and covering me with the blanket. “Though I dinna ken whether having ye next to me is going to make sleep come any more readily.”

“I’m not out here to make out with you,” I said bluntly. “I’m just… having second thoughts.”

“Ye dinna have to marry me,” he said without hesitation, though his muscles had tensed at my words. “Dinna feel guilty if you’ve thought better of it and have changed your mind.”

“Are you having second thoughts as well?” I asked him.

He hesitated. “No,” he said calmly. I could feel him shaking his head behind me.

I scoffed in disbelief. “Why not?” I asked.

He sighed, and I could feel his chest expand against my back. “Do you believe in providence?” Jamie asked slowly.

“Providence—like a good coincidence?” I asked.

“Not exactly… Providence—as in, an act of God. Something that canna be explained away with logic.”

“Maybe,” I responded. “I’m not sure.”

“In the month before you came to Arno,” he said, his voice a husky rumble in my ear, “I found a letter from my ma. She had tucked it inside the Holy Bible she gave me on my first confirmation.”

“What did it say?” I asked, curious. I knew his mother had passed away when he was a teenager, so I knew her words would matter to him.

“She told me that while I should have in mind the things I wanted in a wife, that I might be surprised at what God provided. But she also told me that she had prayed for the partner of my future, and that I should do the same.”

“And did you?” I asked in surprise, turning my face to look at him over my shoulder.

“I did,” he said simply.

“You started praying for your wife a month before I came to Arno,” I repeated, stunned.

“Aye,” he said. “Every day.” I could see the smile on his face despite it being dark in the living room.

“So I appeared, and you saw an answer to your prayers?” I asked, amusement edging into my voice.

“No, actually. I thought he would choose a local girl for me,” Jamie explained. “When you arrived, I mostly saw a kind nurse who was clueless about island mores and desperately needed a friend.” At that, he leaned in and kissed me on the tip of my nose.

I pushed him away in mock disgust. “You pitied me?"

“Ye didna need to be pitied?” he asked, pulling me closer.

“Well, I was clueless,” I agreed, settling into his arms again, only slightly perturbed at him.

“And engaged,” Jamie added.

“That too,” I said. I felt a sudden ache in the pit of my stomach. “Unavailable, as far as you were concerned.”

“Well…” Jamie continued, “As for that, I wasna exactly convinced.”

I remembered the way he had asked me about Frank on the ocean side dock the day we did laundry together… And how I couldn't answer him, how I couldn't bring myself to say that I loved my fiance.

Jamie caressed my arm, running his fingers lightly from elbow to shoulder to neck. When he brushed my hair aside and leaned forward to press his lips beneath my ear, I shivered.

“Dinna fash,” he said.

“What does that mean?” I had asked, turning to him again.

“Don’t worry yourself,” he answered. “Trust.”

“Trust?” I had asked.

“Providence doesna always make sense, but I believe this has all worked out as it should. And it will continue to work out because He is in it.”

With that reassurance again running through my mind, a ghost of his kiss on my neck, I wrapped myself in my blanket and slept the rest of the night.

Next chapter is officially Chapter 18: Hopping to Guam Jamie loves plane trips about as much as he loves boat trips.

#betweenscenes #Outlander fanfic #Jamie x Claire #Island Hopper #Jimjeran book 2 #Campbell & Carlie #Meet Perkaj (Fergus)#Apart again!!!

37 notes · View notes

idjitlili · 4 years

Text

Legolas x reader

I am so tired I stayed up till 5 am last night reading so sorry if this shit. It is shit, Idont know what happened

Imagine somehow being teleported into Tolkien’s ,the hobbit, and you end up meeting legolas and Thranduil. In which you insult thranduil, Thorin is sorta your daddy.

You have been travelling with the company since the trolls tried to eat everyone. You had quite literally came out of a floating , flame coloured line. Only to walk into the tree. A troll had picked you up and attempted to eat you as-well , but you really didn’t care, as you was focusing how your head hurt from the tree.

After explaining your situation to Gandalf , which he ended up believing that you weren’t from here, due to your clothing, and strange sayings. Plus the evidence that all the dwarves and a Hobbit had seen you magically appear.

Thorin didn’t like having a teenage girl , with barely any self defence skills , to come with on their adventure, mission, thing. Yet he felt like he had to protect you from harm, surprisingly since you saw how he treated Bilbo. Uh basically he’s your dad.

The first night with the company , they had all offered you blankets , food (lucky Bombur makes a lot.) , the princes had given you some of their extra tunics. Which they had a lot because dwarves likes to wear layers. Too bad they weren’t green.

Dori acted like a mother to you , he would make sure you ate , and even got Ori to make you knitted goods. The dwarves thought you you would freeze to death , as dwarves didn’t get as cold as humans. Something to do with their build or something, you recall Balin telling you.

You became quick friends with Bilbo, he was interested in where you were from, and what it was like there.

Kili and fili teased you for your weird obsession with potatoes, as you mostly ate them, and you even had gone far enough to make a potato ring. (I actually did)

Now you and the company are In Mirkwood forest , unaware to what is going to strike, soon.

Kili and fili ,stood either side of you in a protective manner. For hours the company had been walking through Mirkwood, Thorin denying any assumptions that they were lost.

You grunt , at the blisters that are forming on your feet , that are sweating in your trainers.

“My legs hurt.” You moan , quietly dragging out hurt.

Kili scoffs at you , “your legs are longer , imagine how mine feel.”

You look at Bilbo who is lagging behind,

“Well you can’t say anything , Bilbos legs are as long as my dick.”

“OI y/n, i dont have no legs.”

“I never said that , my dick is hugeeeeee.”

“You don’t have a dick .” Bofur responds loudly , with annoyed tone.

“How would you know if she had a dick. You haven’t seen it.” Kili responds sending you a wink.

“Yeah thank you , my dick is in my head.”

“How would it fit though?” Fili inquires , with a confused facial expression.

“I meant my personality you jensen Ackles , and John travolta blend!” You reply smirking to yourself .’Boom roasted’ not that he would get the joke.

Unknown the rest of the company Bilbo had climbed up a tree to look for a way out of mirkwood. The air felt limited in the poisoned forest , you felt chills go up your back, shivering slightly.

“Thorin...” you speak slowly, as you spot a eight legged spider, approach in the distance. It was bigger than a sheep, teeth like knives, beads for eyes.

Thorin grabs you and makes sure you are behind him, before you know it , all the dwarves plus you are surrounded. You unarmed, stay close with thorin , so you don’t die.

Suddenly the spiders are everything, no escape, the spiders are travelling down by webs and pulling up the dwarves , who don’t see it coming because they are too busy fighting the ones on the ground. When they are pulled up , they are wrapped into a webbed cocoon.

Thorin grabs a hold of you and pulls you into his jacket , then you are both slung up into the air, you become dizzy from being wrapped up in the webbing. Then you and thorin are in just stuck. For what it seems like forever.

Until , you feel yourself falling down slowly from the trees, the cocoon is ripped open by thorin. You get up looking around there are several, other cocoons with dwarves crawling out of them. You look around to see there are still spiders everywhere, you look to the floor and see thorins swords , picking up quickly you pass it to him. he nods with appreciation and passes you a dagger.

I guess you have no chance but try to help , otherwise the others will die because you were too scared to take a chance.

‘You miss 100% the shots you don’t take -Wayne Gretzky-Michael Scott -y/n l/n’

Before you can even look around for a target , you are rugby tackled to the ground, by a disgusting excuse of one of Morgan freeman’s creations.(I think he’s god uh)

You pull your arm out of its grasp, with your ,sorry thorins dagger in hand , before the poison from the spider can be injected. You stab it the face , its body goes stiff around you curling. You push it off gagging at its texture, you pull yourself off the floor only to be tackled again.

This time the dagger had been knocked out of your gasp , desperately you try to reach it buts in use, the creature pushes you down hard. You pull up your leg and kick as hard as you can, it lands on the left of you. You finally able to grab the dagger going to kill the spider, but someone beats you to it , FIring an arrow through its head.

You look up to see a blonde dude, why is he wearing leggings. Weirdo, your brother accidentally put your leggings on ,once and ripped the crotch how he didn’t notice

he doesn’t own leggings. I do not know.

Snapping you out of your thoughts , you are dragged up, dagger snatched out of your hand, and you are roughly pushed towards the group.

“Don’t you touch her again , or I’ll make sure your everlasting life does t last.” Thorin snaps at the ginger elf that had man handled you. What a bitch.

“Oh is this human your girlfriend?awwe.” The blond elf snickers at Thorin, kili and fili gag at the thought of their uncle being in a relationship.

“Uh princess , yeah you with the dance pants. Treat the king of erebor with a little respect. Assbutt.” You glare at the blond, who tended at your words. Haha loser.

“There is no king under the mountain not will there ever be.” He replies , scowling at you.

“Yes , there will be , princess.” He scoffs.

———————————————————

The blonde elf that you soon discover his name is legolas ,and he is the kings sOn.

Bilbo was missing , aand the company were led to the woodland realm. You could only hope that he would find a way for us to escape.

You and Thorin were spilt from the other dwarves, we were brought to the king. He stuck a deal with Thorin who declined. This king was as dickhead , and narcissistic. Legolas is stood next to you just in case you tried anything .

“Take him alway, ill take to his girlfriend now.” The woodland king states to his guard smoothly.

You scoff.

“ I am literally 18, you perv.”

You feel his ice eyes , stare at you , judging , your whole life, your clothing.

“You are not from here are you,child?” He must of noticed your keanu reeves shirt.

“No”

“tell me why you travel with these dwarves.”

“Why, I like them.”

He scoffs “they are scum, pigs , thieves.” He growls at you , circling you.

“Oi princess , this is your daddy?” You ask legolas who refuses to meet your eye.

“ all I can say is, at least thorin actually loves me and he’s not even my real dad.” Thranduils jaw clenched so hard that he probably could bite your head off.

“We are NOT talking about my son we are talking a bout you.”

“ okay listen here you self obsessed prick, I don’t give a shit about what you want, so cut the shit and get to the point.”

“ I want you to get my the gems of starlight,Thorin won’t expect it from you, I’ll let you all go.”

You feel bad for legolas his dad is soulless, makes him do everything while , he sits on his throne , acting like Gaston.

“No, I am not doing that to my friends, If you wasnt such an asshole and helped Thorin when Azog attacked them he probably would’ve given them to you. But you didn’t. So you suck”

Thranduils faces fled with red , he was angry he whipped his head to towards you.

“Get her to her cell now, legolas.”

“Just saying who risks their own sons life on a forest that clearly can’t be saved,”

“My sons well being doesn’t concern you. Human.”

“You clearly haven’t got love with son. You need to get yourself a girl mat-“

you are interrupted by a slap in the face.

“Well that was a girly move, who slaps , go punch me instead.”

Legolas pulls you out of the rooms quickly, not allowing things to worsen, walking you towards the cells.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?”

He stops and looks at you,” because he will probably execute your friends.”

“Doubt it , he wants them gems , then he needs someone to kill the dragon.” You speak carefully walking down the stairs.

He hummed in response.

After you walked into your cell,you turned and smiled at him. You knew he wasn’t as mean as he portrayed himself as.

“Uh sorry for making fun of your trousers ,” you whispered so thorin didn’t hear , he would skin him.

He smiled lightly “sorry my Ada slapped you.”

“It was a bitch move not going to lie. “ you reach up to my face that still stung, You grin.

“I have no doubt you are going to escape.” He whispers.

“Yes sir. Stay safe princess,savvy?”

———————————————————

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh” you let out , as the water in the river splashed you hard in the face.

“Why is this so fun, yet we are still being hunted.” You throw up arms like you are on a ride in a theme park, until an arrow flies at yodu and almost hits you.

You turn to see legolas , you wave to him. He just keeps running after you and the dwarves , saying our butts , see he was a good dude.

Because of you distracting legolas , he couldn’t see an orc going to hit Tauriel. She got punched square in the nose , falling into legolas , whodidn’t see it coming and fell in the water.

For elves being graceful, that wasn’t ,but fortunately he landing in the water right near you. You reach in the water and some how pull him up so he’s holding onto the barrel. You lean back so it doesn’t tip his way. Still does. He’s stuck in the water with you. You offer him a smile.

“How was your fall?” You ask him.

“Into the water ? Amazing.” He replies grunting.

‘No falling from heaven”

“Oh.” He blushes

#legolas #legolas x reader #the hobbit imagine #lotr x reader #lotr imagine #the hobbit x reader #legolas imagine

103 notes · View notes

alarawriting · 3 years

Text

52 Project #39: Seista Nikita

Wow, my brain is a sieve lately. I just didn’t notice it was getting to be 5 pm until it was almost 6.

I wrote this story originally in senior year of high school, in a college creative writing course. Even if your political views don’t change over time, the culture around them does. The Culare was a mockery of ridiculous extremes of environmentalism and animal rights, a la PETA and suchlike. I wouldn’t write a story like this nowadays because the pendulum’s gone so far in the other direction, I wouldn’t see that worthy of mockery, even though I still disagree with such extremes as much as I ever did. I am very fond of the trickster heroine, though, so I’m publishing it anyway. It’s kind of a stupid story, but I still think it’s funny. There have been some revisions made, so if you note things that didn’t exist in 1987, that is why.

-------------------------

Once upon a time, in a distant province that never appeared on any map, probably because either a. it was too small to bother with or b. someone bribed the mapmaker, or possibly both, an evil beast called the Culare reigned. (It was pronounced like “Cool air”, but if anyone tried to spell it that way, the Culare would eat them.) Some said the Culare was an experimental mutation; others, an ecologist gone mad. The Culare was an intelligent lion-like being with teleportation powers who took the concept of “protecting the environment” to a degree so ludicrous, not even the most extreme environmentalist would support it. He refused to let the human beings in his province harm the native wildlife by picking it or killing it. That would have been reasonable, but he also wouldn’t let people pick anything they planted themselves, even on their own property. If the plant in question was native, he wouldn’t let them harvest it, and if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t even let people plant it, claiming it was an invasive species. And of course he wouldn’t allow anyone to raise animals for food. Not even unfertilized chicken eggs. (He also took a dim view of the cellophane wrapper industry.)

If people wanted to eat meat, they had to find roadkill, or something that had been killed by another predator. The problem was that the Culare thought that “protecting nature” meant preventing predators of any kind from killing other animals… which meant there were very few animals who’d died of anything other than starvation or disease as their populations exploded. If they wanted to eat vegetables or fruits, people had to find things that were lying around on the ground. In the beginning of the Culare’s reign, there had been shipments from other countries of rice, and bacon, and potatoes, and tomatoes, and whatever else people wanted to eat. But the Culare wouldn’t tolerate ships that consumed fossil fuels coming in to the ports, and the people of the small nation couldn’t pay enough to make it worth sending sailing ships. Also, packaging. If the food came in anything other than packaging made from recycled matter, which would biodegrade, the Culare would eat the people who brought it.

The Culare himself was sustained on sunflower seeds and papaya juice… when he wasn’t consuming errant humans.

(Some said the whole thing was a scam, giving the Culare an acceptably environmentally correct reason to eat people. None of them said it very loudly, though, or else they never said it more than once.)

One day, an old man who had once worked for a living making cellophane wrappers, and his 20-ish son Harold, were out, searching for rotten apples and fallen nuts to eat. It was hard enough to find such things, when the entire country was desperately trying to find the same things so they wouldn’t starve to death. It was made even more difficult by the fact that it was springtime. You might think that the reason springtime was an issue was that nothing had had a chance to get ripe enough to fall, and you’d be correct enough. But the bigger part of the problem was that Harold was in love, with a girl named Seista Nikita, and he seemed to think that he could live entirely off air, sunlight and his love. At least, one would suspect that from how much attention he was not paying to finding food.

The old man finally got ticked off at the way his son was paying next to no attention to the task at hand, and hobbled off.

“At last,” Harold thought. “That old geezer’s gone. Him and his stories about the glorious days of Saran Wrap! I’d much rather sit under a tree and think about Seista.” With that, he sat down under a tree and thought about Seista.

At the height of his romantic musings, he saw a bunch of flowers. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could pick them and give them to Seista,” he thought, ignoring the fact that Seista would probably prefer nearly anything to flowers. Quickly, he looked around. He saw no one. His hand reached out and he plucked the blossoms.

Suddenly there was a burst of acrid smoke, and a huge lion-like beast appeared in front of him, kind of like the Wicked Witch of the West. “The Culare!” Harold babbled, and tried to hide the flowers.

“SLEAZOID,” the Culare rumbled. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO THOSE FLOWERS?”

“Well, it was – it was an accident, yeah. I – you see, I, I thought they were looking ill, that’s it, and I tried to lift them up to inspect them. Yeah, that’s it. And – and they accidentally came loose, yeah—”

“FOOLISH SLIMEBUCKET, DO YOU REALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE SUCH A RIDICULOUS STORY?”

“Oh, please don’t eat me!” begged Harold. “I’ll never do it again!”

“THAT’S WHAT THEY ALL SAY. BUT IT ISN’T GOOD FOR ME TO EAT A HEAVY MEAL THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING. I’LL COME BACK FOR YOU AT SUNSET.”

With that, the Culare vanished.

Harold ran straight to Seista Nikita’s house and told her the news. “And so we must be forever separated, beloved,” he said, tears in his eyes. “For I am doomed! At sunset tonight, I am destined to lose my life at the hands of the Culare. The paws? The claws? I’m not sure ‘hands’ is the correct thing to say here…”

Seista sighed. “You would go and do something like this, wouldn’t you? Stop moaning like that, you sound like a dead cow. I’ll kill the Culare for you and save your idiot backside. Okay?”

“Okay,” Harold sniffed.

So Seista Nikita put on her very tall platform shoes. These shoes were easily a foot and a half tall. You wouldn’t think anyone would be able to walk in such shoes, unless maybe they went to clown college and learned how to use stilts. Seista was a very acrobatic and skilled young woman, though, so while she wobbled a bit, she managed to stay upright all the way to the nearest meadow, which was badly overgrown with wildflowers, pokeweed, ground cover plants, and about half a billion tiny mimosa seedlings. She began to pick flowers and toss them into the air.

The Culare appeared. “SLEAZOID!” he boomed.

“Come and get me, shag-face!” Seista yelled, which was a reference to his lion-like mane rather than some sort of rude reference to a private activity. She kicked off her shoes, directly in front of the Culare, and ran. The Culare tried to pursue, but he tripped over her shoes and broke a forepaw.

“Damn,” Seista said, after escaping. “Those shoes were big enough that he should have tripped over them and broken his neck.” The thought occurred to her that perhaps she should have factored in the fact that he had four legs, and therefore had better balance than she’d accounted for. “I’ll just have to think of something else!”

An hour later, after getting into sneakers and sensible clothes, she climbed a tall cherry tree, went up as far as she could before the branches could no longer hold her weight, and began to pick cherry blossoms. It wasn’t long before the Culare appeared. “YOU AGAIN?”

“Nah, nah, nah nyah nah!” Seista taunted. She was tall and strong and very acrobatic and fairly smart, but she was, admittedly, more than a little childish.

The Culare leapt at the tree and began to climb up. Seista waited until it had almost reached her, then dropped, letting go of the branch she was on… having already checked that there was another branch right below her. From there, she clambered down as fast as she could go. She figured that would hold him until he starved to death; the Culare was obviously a type of cat, and cats are terrible at climbing down trees.

So she went home to Harold, who was watching a Tarzan movie. It was an animated Disney reboot in 3D. “Well, I took care of that problem.”

“Really?” Harold turned, his 3D glasses sliding off his face. “O my beloved, my thanks know no bounds—”

“Skip it.”

A bulletin interrupted the Tarzan movie. “We interrupt this movie for an important bulletin.” This was impressively implausible, since the movie was on a streaming service and you wouldn’t think anything could break into and interrupt one of those.

The Culare’s face appeared on the television. “SEISTA NIKITA, IF YOU’RE OUT THERE, YOU’RE DEAD!”

Seista stared in shock, as the movie resumed. How had he gotten out of that tree? …oh yeah, he could teleport. She probably should have thought of that.

“I thought you said you took care of it!” Harold whined.

“Shut up, I’m trying to think.” Tarzan swung across the jungle floor on a vine. The 3D was powerful enough that he visibly swung toward Seista, despite the fact that she wasn’t wearing 3D glasses. “Oh! That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“Harold.” She patted his very handsome cheeks. “I love you dearly but you’re too stupid to know what I’m talking about.”

***

Nearby, there was a ravine, where Seista found a tree on one side. With a very long rope, tied to an upper branch of the tree, and a rock tied to one side of it, she flung the rope to the other side, getting it caught on the other side of a bush. There was a bridge a few hundred feet away; she ran down to it, crossed it, and went back to the bush.

With the rope held in one hand, she picked a dandelion.

The Culare appeared. “THAT’S IT! YOU’RE DEAD!”

As he leapt at her, Seista grabbed the rope and swung to the other side. The Culare roared and leapt at her, apparently unable to see the cliff through the bush. It turned out he couldn’t teleport if he was in midair; he fell to his death in the ravine below.

She and Harold were married the next week. Three months after that, Seista left Harold to find herself, and ran away to a country where she worked as a stuntwoman in movies. Harold mooned over her for another month before finding his next true love. Seista herself never married again, having decided that being tied down by romance wasn’t for her… particularly since she seemed to be sexually attracted to idiots. She had many fun and satisfying sexual relationships with people whose stupidity didn’t have to impact her life very much.

#52 Project #comedy #trickster tale #fairy-tale-ish

10 notes · View notes

shining-red-diamond · 3 years

Text

Keep the Change (Part 1)

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Jisung x Sunhee (OC) (feat. NCT DREAM and OCs)

Rating: PG-13

Genre: fluff, some angst, comedy

Warnings: violence, fighting, language, brief character death, mentions of vandalism, illness, and robbery

Summary: Being the youngest of twenty-three members, Jisung can get into trouble. He loves his members, but he feels as if everyone else, except for his girlfriend Sunhee, push him around at times. However, the morning after a fight with a member, he realizes that he’s been accidentally left behind. Although he has temporary freedom until his members return, there’s also trouble around the neighborhood caused by two thieves targeting wealthy families’ homes like Sunhee’s. Inspired by the holiday classic Home Alone. (Part of the NEOHOLIDAY event)

December 22

“Go finish packing,” Taeyong commanded for the last time.

Jisung obeyed and exited the room, infuriated with being denied just even sitting in the same room with someone. He was all packed for the trip to Paris he, the other NCT members, and some of their wives and girlfriends were going on for the holidays. Jisung just wanted some time to spend with the people he was closest to, but they were busy packing, playing video games, or tending to their small children.

“Dude,” Mark scoffed as he walked by, his large suitcase in his hands, “you’re like eighteen. Tattling is for six year olds. That should have died out for you twelve years ago.”

“Who said I was tattling?” the younger male defended as he followed Mark into his room, “I was expressing how I was being left out.”

“By going to Taeyong to call Johnny a jerk without saying it to his face?”

Jisung just crossed his arms and huffed. “I’m just tired of being treated like a baby around here.”

Mark patted his shoulder. “Then, don’t act like one, and Johnny was messing with you.”

That reply earned him an eye roll. He meant well, but Mark didn’t always say the right thing correctly.

“By the way,” the older boy added, “since Sierra and Alex are coming, you’ve been assigned to bunk with Alex for tonight.”

“I’m aware,” Jisung shrugged.

“You didn’t let me finish. Alex is scared of the dark, and knowing you don’t have a nightlight for him, don’t be surprised if he wakes up screaming and crying.”

Mark walked off without another word to go help another member to pack.

“Pizza’s here!” Jaehyun called from the kitchen.

Immediately, everyone dropped what they were doing and headed towards the kitchen, Jisung trailing behind them as he was still moody from his members rejecting them. He loved them dearly, but being the youngest of twenty-three members proved to be wrong sometimes. The only two members closest to his age were Sungchan and Chenle, but even they weren’t babied as much as he was.

As he crossed the front entryway, he noticed a cop by the door somewhat taking a look around the house and wanting someone to speak to. No one robbed them as far as he knew, but he really couldn’t be bothered.

Most of the members had sat down to eat already, plates full of two or three slices of their favorite kind. Despite having eaten some ramen earlier out of frustration from not being able to see his girlfriend Sunhee, Jisung grabbed a plate and anticipated having just a slice of cheese.

“Daddy, what time are we leaving tomorrow?” Alex asked Johnny.

“Early,” he replied, “we’re leaving at eight in the morning.”

“Sweetheart, the pizza boy needs 133000 won,” Taeyong’s wife Savannah told him as she was feeding Hayden some bite-sized beef slices.

“For pizza?” he replied as he was getting some milk.

“Ten pizzas times 12000 won.”

“You want us to pay for it?” Johnny offered.

“Nope, we’ve got it,” Taeyong shook his head as he searched his wallet.

Jisung opened a few boxes of pizzas, but couldn’t find any cheese. The boxes were either empty or had some sort of topping.

“Did anyone get a plain cheese?” he asked.

Lucas, who was standing by and shoving slices into his mouth, smirked and said, “Well, yeah, we did. But if you want any, someone’s gonna have to barf it all up.”

If anyone knew how to mess around with people, it was Lucas, but it was always out of love. He had a younger brother himself, so he was somewhat of an expert on picking and poking at people. However, he had no knowledge of Jisung’s frustration, yet it was no excuse for the joke he was pulling on the maknae.

“Jisung,” Lucas cried as he made a shocked face, “quick grab a plate!” He slumped over mockingly and made gagging sounds before chuckling at his own joke.

This, mixed with the worry of Alex’s midnight banshee screams and being left out all day, triggered Jisung’s anger and pushed him over the edge. In one swift motion, he balled up his fist and punched the older boy in his face. Hard.

Lucas ended up stumbling backwards, his elbows hit the cups filled with sodas and water; and it all spilled onto the-

“Passports!” Taeil cried as he and Johnny worked quickly to rescue them.

The other members helped with drying them, and Kun and Jeno pulled the fighting boys apart. Lucas’s nose was bleeding, but thankfully it wasn’t broken. Alex was startled by the chaos and started crying, and Sierra took him out the kitchen to calm him down.

Taeyong, in full dad mode now, finally stepped in and raised his voice at Jisung. “What is the matter with you?”

“He started it!” Jisung snapped. “He knows I don’t like the other toppings.”

The maknae knew it wasn’t just Lucas��s antics that made him lash out, but rather everything from that day. However, there would still be consequences to his actions.

“Look what you did, dummy!” Ten snapped as he was trying to dry his soda-stained jeans.

Jisung looked around at his members. It was all silence, except for Alex’s sniffles in the next room. Everyone else just had a look of disappointment on their faces as they stared back at him.

“Jisung, just go to your room,” Taeyong finally sighed.

“Why?”

With a huff, Taeyong pulled the maknae by his elbow. He complied and Taeyong was able to let go of him as he knew that Jisung wasn’t Alex’s age.

“Why do I always get treated like trash?” Jisung demanded.

The police officer and pizza boy were still standing by the door.

“I’m sorry,” the leader chuckled as he pulled out the money for the delivery boy. “With so many people going on a trip, it’s a little crazy. Some of our members have young children, so the chaos escalates a bit. It’s just nuts.”

He paid the pizza boy, and the young man wished them a Merry Christmas before walking out of the door.

“Having a reunion or something?” the officer asked.

“No,” Taeyong replied. “The group has some time off for the holidays, and some of us have families of our own, so we want to spend Christmas and New Year’s with them. Paris is where we’re heading.”

“To Paris, you say?”

“Yeah, We hope to leave tomorrow morning.”

“Excellent.”

Jisung just rolled his eyes. Why was the officer here in the first place?

“If you’ll excuse me, this one’s out of sorts. I’ll be right back.”

Taeyong guided the maknae by the shoulder, and the officer called to them, “Don’t worry about me. I spoke to your wife already. And don’t worry about your home. It’s in good hands.”

NCT’s leader marched the boy up the stairs as the man left the premises. “There are twenty-three members in our group, and you’re the only one who has to make trouble.”

“I’m the only one getting dumped on,” Jisung shot back.

“You’re the only one acting up. Now, get in the room.”

He had led them to the guest room instead of Jisung’s bedroom.

“The guest room?”

“Go.”

“It’s scary in there.”

Taeyong didn’t buy his guilt trip. “Don’t be silly. Alex will be up in a little while.”

“I’m not sharing a room with Alex. You know about him. He screams in the middle of the night.”

The leader sighed and massaged his temples. “Fine. We’ll put Alex somewhere. Just get in there and cool off.”

Jisung had already chilled out by now. He tried to apologize, but Taeyong shook his had and said, “It’s too late. Go.” If a frustrated huff, he stomped into the room.

“I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow morning,” the leader said just before closing the door.

Plopping face down on the bed, he pulled out his phone and texted Sunhee, who wasn’t able to join the group due to her having plans with her family for Christmas. She was quick to respond. Sunhee was one of the sweetest people anyone could ever meet, and Jisung was happy she was his. His career did make it difficult to see her sometimes, but he always tried to make time for her. It was just as frustrating for her as she was about to graduate high school and working hard to stay on top of homework and final projects. Jisung ranted about how he felt he was being pushed around by everyone and just wanted to stop being treated like a baby, as he was eighteen years old. Sunhee was very understanding as she was one of the youngest of her cousins, but she said something similar to Mark in a much more kind manner. He knew they were right, but it somehow stuck with him more than the way the older boy had said it.

After they talked, Jisung put his phone down and got ready for bed.

Silence.

The only sound Jisung woke up to was silence. Not a word, a child’s babbling, or even a footstep could be heard from outside the bedroom. Maybe everyone was in the kitchen eating breakfast before heading to the airport. He didn’t bother checking his phone before stepping out into the hallway.

The lights were on, so that was a good sign, at least. Some of the doors were open, some were closed. He peeked into a few of them, but they were empty with piles of mess of some sort in each room.

“Taeyong?” he called out as he made his way to the kitchen. “Taeyong? Mark? Johnny? Lucas? Savannah? Sierra?”

He continued calling out everyone’s names, even the ones who were just starting to talk. After calling for Jeno, he gave up. Was he alone in the house? He sat down at the table and remembered everything he had been jabbed with the night before.

“Tattling is for six year olds. That should have died out for you twelve years ago.”

“…if you want any, someone’s gonna have to barf it all up.”

“There are twenty-three members in our group, and you’re the only one who has to make trouble.”

“Look what you did, dummy!”

Now, Jisung didn’t feel so bad. He realized that the members had left and possibly forgotten him, but now he had some freedom for a while before they could realize anything. Soon, he was dressed, danced whatever choreo around the house to whatever music he desired, and even went through the other members’ personal stuff as well.

Lucas’s, however, was a gold mine. He had some things from his family such as a letter from his parents and a picture of him and his younger brother, and a white Louis Vuitton purse with Sydni’s (his girlfriend) name tagged on it, which must have been a Christmas gift for her. What hit the jackpot was some firecrackers hidden beneath some magazines. Jisung wasn’t sure how Lucas sneaked them in, but there they were.

Once they were placed in his room for the time being, Jisung decided to make a huge ice cream sundae for himself with a side of snacks. He put in an old drama titled Filthy Souled Angels. A mafia piece, he thought. Interesting.

The drama began with a man in a trench coat and fedora entering an office of some sort.

“It’s me, Weasel,” the man told an older gentleman sitting at a desk. “I got the stuff.”

“Leave it on the doorstep,” the older man shouted at him, “and get the hell out of here.”

“All right, Junseo, but what about my money?”

“What money?”

“Acey said you had some for me.”

“Is that a fact? How much do I owe you?”

“Acey said 10%.”

The older man, Junseo, smirked. “Too bad Acey ain’t in charge no more.”

As he watched and snacked in the living room, he called out, “Guys, I’m eating junk and watching a mafia drama. You better come out and stop me.”

“He’ll call when he gets out of prison,” Junseo continued, Weasel looking defeated. “Hey, I’ll tell you what I’m going to give you, Weasel’ –Junseo pulled out a rifle from under his desk and aimed it at Weasel- “I’m going to give you to the count of ten to get your ugly, yellow no-good ass off my property before I pump your guts full of lead.”

“All right, Junseo, I’m sorry,” Weasel backed up. “I’m going.”

“1, 2, 10.” Junseo opened fire at the Weasel, cackling as the man dropped to his knees and died on the spot.

This surprised Jisung, and he was quick to cover his eyes as it scared him so bad. He kept his eyes covered until the last bullet was fired and Junseo said, “Keep the change, you filthy animal.”

Jisung turned it off, and switched it to classic Christmas movies for a while. Once he caught his breath, he cleaned up the kitchen and living room, and then returned to the couch. He fell asleep during How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

#neoholiday #kwritersworldnet #kconnect #nctcreations #neothestars #kpopficsnetwork #starryktown #kdiary #kdiner #nct #nct dream #nct jisung #park jisung #nct fluff

13 notes · View notes

buckysgoldenheart · 5 years

Text

Escort: Bucky Barnes AU

Summary: You’re a highly paid escort, trained to adapt to any situation the client may need. But this next client is a first: A mother, hiring you for her son.

Words: 3370

I know i’ve done a bad thing and started another series, hopefully small. I am still working on the other ones, but after my dad died, I lost inspiration until this story popped into my head and i kinda ran with it. Anyway, I hope you guys like it and aren’t mad. -Lauren

This may be triggering in a way. The title pretty much explains what this is about, but it’s not negative.

Part 1:

You had been doing this for long enough to get the gist of want your clients want. Some were lonely and wanted someone to talk to for the night. Some wanted to take you out and brag about the beautiful, young girl on their arm. Some, the usual’s, wanted a fake girlfriend to take to family engagements to avoid scrutiny. But you were not a prostitute in the sense of what people assume. Your boss, Maria, was very clear to all potential clients that her girls do not engage in sexual relations in exchange for money. That’s not what her business was about. You and your coworkers were too expensive for the ‘street creeps and weirdos,’ as Maria liked to put it.

You were a girl strapped for cash and would’ve rather put a bullet in your head than take another retail job to pay for your college classes. And when Maria advertised it to you, that bit about the exclusivity made it seem safe somehow, but being rich or famous, or both, did not make someone any less of a creep or a weirdo. So, Maria was more than willing to put down money for mandatory self-defense classes that you would complete before taking your first job. Now, you and the other girls could kick anyone’s ass, even someone twice your size. At the end of the day, there were worse jobs.

—————————————————————————————-

You were barely through the front door of your modest apartment, high heels already discarded, when you heard your cell ring. The caller ID was not one you were allowed to ignore unless ill or on the brink of death, which you were neither, so you sighed and slid the answer button.

“Hello, Maria.”

Your boss wasted no time with pleasantries and got right to the point. “I know it’s late and you had a long day, but I need you to get down to the office immediately. I have a client here and after looking at her options, she has decided on you.”

You were slightly taken aback. Her? While it wasn’t unheard of to have women request Maria’s services, it was rare. Most were annoyingly wealthy men with underlying and deeply suppressed self-confidence issues.

You sighed, internally groaning. You were exhausted after some guy’s family reunion today. It was too long and too humid, and his family was too obnoxious; prodding you with questions as if they knew who you really were. But you couldn’t turn down Maria’s requests. It was in the contract.

“I’ll be right down.”

——————————————————————————

You were still in your dress and heels from the reunion earlier: A simple light blue, but expensive looking, sundress and strappy, silver sandals, when you exited the elevator. Walking down the corridor to Maria’s office at this hour, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was around as your heels clicked loudly with your steps. None of the other girls were there. There was always at least one or two.

You shook your head and scrunched your eyebrows for a moment before knocking lightly on Maria’s door. “Come in.” She said from the other side. You turned the handle and stepped in with a pleasant smile. “Y/N,” Maria also smiled. “I would like you to meet your next client.”

Then, she gestured a delicate hand to the woman sitting in one of the luxurious office chairs. You nearly gasped at who was before you. Mid-fifties, hair styled in a neat chignon, tailored suit, with diamonds along her neck and at her earlobes that showed off her wealth.

The Mayor.

“Y/N, sit.” Maria said, slapping you back to your senses. But you did as she said, taking the other chair two feet away from the most powerful woman in the city. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. She oozed power and class. “I would like you to meet Mayor Barnes.”

The Mayor smiled and turned in her seat to shake your hand. “You are lovelier than your picture.”

“T-Thank you.” You replied, shy in the presence of this woman.

After the introductions, Maria began her typical spiel that, when summed up, basically just meant you weren’t a hooker. “Oh, of course not.” The Mayor replied.

“Wonderful,” Maria smiled and scooted the paperwork across the cherry wood desk towards you and Mayor Barnes. “You will both sign and be under contract. However, Y/N, this is a…unique…situation.” All you could do was gulp. “Mayor Barnes may be your client, but to clear up any confusion, you will not be her escort.”

“O-Ok.” You nodded slightly, waiting for the kicker.

“You will be her son’s.”

Your jaw dropped despite your best efforts to remain composed. Her son. Infamous, sexy-as-hell, playboy James Barnes, who couldn’t manage to stay out of the tabloids for a quick second. Why he would suddenly want a girl like you when women fell at his feet was the most confusing part of this. Well no, the most confusing part was that his mother was the one hiring you.

“You will take on the role of Mr. Barnes’s woman.” Ok, you thought, typical job. “But there is another condition that I have assured the Mayor will be no problem for you.”

You glanced at the Mayor who was looking at you with a sweet, genuine smile; like she was already prepared to accept you into the family. Clearly, this was a well-drawn out plan.

“Mr. Barnes has not been informed about any of this. And the toughest part of this job is that he can never know.”

“I don’t understand.”

The Mayor turned to you a little more, catching your full attention. “Let me explain, dear. My son, as most people can’t help but know, is quite accustomed to putting himself in the spotlight, though it only seems to be negative. He’s been called a number of things. Womanizer, man-whore, troublemaker, a disappointment, but I know my son. He’s just as his father once was; Young and handsome, running around dragging his name through the mud.” You blinked not nearly enough as you listened, and your throat was starting to dry out. Everyone knew of James Barnes and his questionable decisions, but you felt a pang in your heart at the way his mother spit out the names he’d been called by the media. “James is not really like what everyone says. I believe he’s just…lonely. He was so young when I was elected and neither his father nor I could spend much time with him. My own fault, perhaps, but I don’t want my son to keep making these choices. He’s better than this. He’s so handsome and smart and charismatic; he could do great things, but not if he keeps himself on this path. So, what I need from you, my dear, is to become someone James can trust. A fixture in his life, at least for a time. He needs a beautiful woman like you, not these floozies that keep hanging off him. I will have you meet him, accidentally on purpose, and it won’t take much for him to strike up a conversation with you. You are absolutely gorgeous, and James can’t seem to help himself.”

“You want me to be his friend?” You asked. “I thought I was supposed to be his woman, or girlfriend, or something along those lines.”

“I would love if it turned into that, but I recognize that this a job, one that you cannot do forever. I would prefer he not fall in love with you if only to break his heart. I won’t need your services once he turns his act around. I am hoping you can encourage a permanent change.”

“One other thing, Y/N,” Maria began as you digested all the information being thrown at you. “You won’t be taking on any other clients for the duration of this job. It would create some serious problems if the woman in James Barnes’s company was seen with other men. The media would blow up and come to some dangerous conclusions. And before you start worrying about how to pay your bills with only one client at a time, the Mayor is prepared to offer you triple your normal rate.”

Triple, you thought. Somehow that made you feel guilty. You already felt bad about this type of job. You were going to be deep in a lie that would last longer than an afternoon. A lie that could potentially hurt someone when your time was up, and the thought of Mr. Barnes learning who you really were made your stomach turn. No one in their right mind would swallow that discovery with an accepting smile.

But you agreed; Not that you had a choice. You signed the contract and Maria gave the Mayor your work number so she could contact you to let you know when and where to show up so you could conveniently run right into James Barnes.

———————————————————–

For the first time, you were nervous. James Barnes’s face has been splashed all over every magazine and stupid celebrity TV program for months, and you couldn’t deny how insanely attractive he was. He was rugged and beautiful at the same time, with a smirk you wanted to kiss and eyes to melt your soul. Not only that, but there was the fact that you would be in the most intense spotlight. While the other men you’ve spent time with were wealthy, they weren’t typically the kind of famous that drew too much attention. Certainly not enough for anyone to remember your face once the job was done. But this was different. A woman by James Barnes’s side for longer than an evening would bring about a nauseating level of attention, but you guessed that’s part of the reason you were getting triple the pay.

You sighed as you plopped down on your couch for the night, stretching your legs out in your comfy sweats and turning on the TV. Flipping through the channels, you immediately stopped when you caught James’s name coming out of some done-up woman’s bright red lips. As she spoke to the camera, she would gesture behind her to the large screen with James’s picture on it, his hand clearly on some random model’s ass. His new toy.

Finally looking away from his face, you focused on what the host was saying about him. “James Barnes, notorious, sexy bad boy and ladies’ man, caught seen with his newest fling, model and actress, Svetlana Antonov. Will this last? If you ask us, she’ll be gone by the end of the week. But who will be next?”

With a groan you clicked off the TV and tossed the remote to the side. “Vultures,” You mumbled. And then, suddenly, you wondered what would be said about you.

——————————————————————

Mayor Barnes, or Winnifred, as she preferred you now call her considering your new ‘personal relationship,’ phoned you no more than two days later. What you hoped would be something simple, like a coffee shop interaction or running into James on the street was, in reality, much more extravagant. The Mayor’s annual summer fundraiser ball. Only the best of the best A-list celebrities, financiers, and hotel heiress’ where invited; People who could donate a significant chunk of change in return for a reputation boost. This is where you would meet James Barnes.

Winnifred had sent over a deep blue Oscar de la Renta gown that had small diamonds speckled around the fabric making it look like the sky on a clear night, with a flowy-ness that when you walked gave the illusion of a refreshing breeze following your steps. There were also matching drop earrings and subtle, silver heels.

You felt amazing in the dress. Not like a princess, but a queen. Thankfully though, you were permitted to do your own hair and makeup. You let your hair tumble over your shoulders and kept your makeup delicate but glamorous enough to match the high quality of the gown.

You looked at your phone, quickly checking the time before slipping it into your clutch. Ready or not, it was time for you to go.

———————————————————————–

To your surprise, Winnifred also sent a limo to escort you. A note sat on the seat cushion that read ‘you couldn’t possibly arrive at the most exclusive event of the year in a cab,’ signed with a cursive ‘Winnie’ in the bottom right corner. You supposed she was right; it would look odd. This way you wouldn’t stand out negatively.

Inside, you gasped at the grandness of the ballroom. Not only was it nothing you had ever seen before, but it was something you couldn’t even imagine if you tried. It wasn’t what you pictured when told it would be a ball. It was more like a black-tie party in an up-and coming-club. The room was dark, but not too dark, with bluish-purple up-lighting, and private, velvety, plush lounges lining the walls that could be hidden by thin curtains. Some danced to the top 40 hits the DJ was playing, but many, mostly the older men, sat chatting and drinking expensive alcohol as young women, much like yourself, draped themselves over their laps.

You realized you had been to something like this before, but not nearly as nice. You had been the girl a man held at his side like a trophy; told not to speak, but to stand there and look pretty. It was like looking through glass at a piece of your life from a different angle. And it looked pathetic. But you had to push that thought from your mind because you had a job to do; one you had signed a contract for.

Looking around, you had no idea how the hell you were going to find James Barnes. His mother only told you he was wearing a blue suit. Not much help you realized, when you actually began to search.

After thirty frustrating minutes of sifting through bodies, you decided you needed a drink, and once you reached the bar, you figured maybe James would be the one to accidentally find you. What is that thing people say? Once you stop looking for a man, a man will come to you, or something like that. You hoped that was the case because you were sick of looking. So instead, you sipped your wine and people-watched.

After some time, you realized you probably looked like an uncomfortable wallflower. You started to explore around a little more, but with your gaze distracted, not watching where you were going, you slammed your shoulder against another’s and your wine glass fell from your hand. The dark liquid splashed all over the floor, and though no one heard the glass shatter over the music, the woman whose white dress was now stained with little red droplets certainly did.

“You LITTLE tramp!” She screamed over the music. “Look what you did!”

Before you could even apologize, the woman shoved you back with a growl and murder in her dark, brown eyes. She looked familiar and a second later you recognized her as Svetlana Antonov: model, actress, and James Barnes’s latest fling. And then…

“Babe, c’mon. It was an accident.” James Barnes. He looked down at the dress with a little chuckle. “It’s no big deal,” He said. “You have twenty of these designer things.”

When he looked up he met your eyes, and while you thought you saw his breath hitch, yours certainly did. Magazines and TV didn’t do him justice. “I-I’m sorry.”

James licked his lip as he stared at your own, then you blushed as the blue-grey irises trailed down to the curve of your throat and back up to your eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

“James!” Svetlana shrieked, and for the first time you noticed how heavy her Russian accent was. When he didn’t glance her way at her outburst, the model/actress/fling stomped away, muttering curses in her native tongue.

You wanted to stay and talk, but his presence had somehow stunned you into silence. Then you remembered something his mother told you over the phone: ‘Play a little hard to get. James could use a challenge.’

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” You smiled your sweetest smile that held a dash of sexiness. “I should probably go—”

“We haven’t yet.” He said, effectively cutting you off.

“I’m sorry?”

“We haven’t met yet.”

Your lips formed an ‘O.’ For whatever reason, you didn’t expect a comeback. “I’m James.” He reached out and took your hand in his rough yet warm one, then placed a kiss on your skin. “You can call me Bucky.”

You pulled your hand back and said a simple ‘Ok’ in response to his forwardness. He chuckled.

“And you are?”

You took a step back, smiled again, and cutely cocked your head to the side. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. I doubt we will be seeing each other again.” Then, you sauntered off, leaving James ‘Bucky’ Barnes speechless where he stood.

————————————————————————

At two in the morning, you were done. Your exhaustion had hit a new level and all you wanted was a hot bath and your warm bed, but you still had one trick up your sleeve that you hoped would peak James’s curiosity about you just a little more.

Some guests had left making it easier to hunt down your target. The second you actually began to look, you saw him causally leaning against the bar as he sipped a whiskey, staring at you like it was all he had done since you ran into him earlier. You kept eye contact long enough for him to smirk seductively. But, instead of going over to him like you knew he expected, you kept walking to the exit.

You didn’t see James’s smirk drop. You didn’t see him slam his whiskey glass down and quickly tip the bartender. And you didn’t see him trailing after you, but you knew he was. Because despite how he made your pulse increase to dangerous levels, you were good at your job, and his handsome face and charming smile wasn’t going to change that.

“Hey, wait!” You heard behind you. ‘Right on time,’ You thought, but you kept walking until a familiar warm hand wrapped itself around your upper arm and spun you around. “Wait.”

He was breathing a bit heavy and you made sure to bat your lashes in the moment where silence was between you. “Hello, old friend.”

He kept hold of you, darting his eyes over every feature of your face. “Friend’s know each other’s names.”

“What?” you gasped jokingly, your eyes widening along with the act. “Who told you that?”

His eyes narrowed and he inched his face closer to yours. “My other friends.”

“Oh, well, you and I have very different customs.”

James released your arms and crossed his own over a broad chest. “You’re really not going to tell me your name?”

“Is there some kind of law that requires I do, James?”

“Bucky.”

“James.”

“Bucky.” He stressed.

You sighed. “Fine…Bucky. I don’t see why you could possibly need my name.”

“How else am I going to see you again if I don’t at least have your name so I can track you down?”

You hummed in thought. “Don’t you already have a woman whose name you know? The model?”

“She’s not my girlfriend if that’s what your implying.”

“I wouldn’t care if she was.”

“You sure about that?” He asked, his lips quirking.

“Yes, I am…Bucky.” You chuckled. “Anyway, I should go. Early morning.” But, as you turned, he grabbed you again, this time your hand.

“Please.” He said to your back.

You smirked to yourself, knowing you had won for the night, then faced him again. The pleading look in his eyes almost broke your resolve.

“Y/N.” You said.

James smiled in victory. “Last name, too, sweetheart. I need both to find you.”

You rolled your eyes with a small grin. “Y/L/N. Happy now?”

“Very.”

Then, he let your hand go and watched as you left out the front doors.

tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @alyssiamking @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @tessvillegas @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @stringgeek13 @quotemeow @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @stangirl4eva @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hiddles-rose @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf @picapicapicassobaby @lokilvrr

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky au #bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction

640 notes · View notes