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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 1 month

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A DC X DP IDEA #27

They’re the strongest?!?!

Imagine dis…

You know … I read too much humans are space orcs fic, prompts, ideas… etc.

But I still like Danny Phantom and DC…

And I remember that one A03 fic…

…

Another alien invasion is another Wednesday for the JL but it seems like they are quite different. Not only they are known as invaders in the Green Lantern Corps but they also have some sort of code among warriors, they give a chance to the species they are invading to fight back. By having their strongest fight against their strongest. It is not through fighting to the death as different planets have different climates and terrains and thus have their version of the Olympic games but instead of rewarding the participants medals, they were rewarded their planet's safety, but Hal commented that the challenges are too staged, too well known to the invading aliens. Since the ones defending have no idea how to approach the challenges, they always end up losing. Green Arrow commented that since they can just send out the Big Blue boy scout, Hal shook his head as they have to be the same species one planet already tried it by asking aid from another planet and not only lost but the invading aliens got 2 planets, plus they’ll bring it up to the galaxy court system and put them in a tight spot. Of course, Aquaman blinked with confusion and asked if there was a court system for the galaxy.

…

So of course, when the said invading aliens landed on the Milky Way and broadcasted their intentions. The JL already have a team to fight them, of course, we have Batman with his cunning mind, Wonder Woman for her chivalry and strength, Flash for his speed, Doctor Fate for his mastery of magic, and Cyborg for technological skills. Just as they were about to tell the invading aliens that they had already picked their strongest, another announcement popped out. Apparently to even out the playing field they have a new technology to help them pick out their strongest for them. As if they were talking to kids and promptly pressed the bottom to automatically select the earth’s strongest.

The heroes at the space station as well those around the world who were debriefed about the situation a week before are already bracing themselves to be picked, while the citizens around the globe are all now watching and anticipating as not only this a new thing as the majority of their alien invasion they immediately went to evacuation.

Who appeared/ chosen immediately made both sides' jaws drop….

Three?

Only three are chosen…

An adult, a teen, and a child?

A man who wore a blue rental suit with glasses, blue eyes and black hair. Which the Metropolis recognizes as one of their own. Clark Kent, a reporter with fame and reputation on par with the famed Lois Lane. The ideal model of someone who came from the countryside and made a name and life in the big city.

An 11-year-old boy with blue eyes and black hair who wore a red hoodie, faded jeans, and red shoes, in which the city Fawcett knew of. Billy Batson was, a former foster kid on the run until he found his forever home with the couple named Victor and Rosa Vasquez who also fostered a couple of kids, which Billy claims as his siblings. A kind kid who kept doing good around him and his community.

Lastly, a teen, again with blue eyes and black hair wore a faded NASA hoodie, and blue jeans with faint eye bags which was a small town in Amity Park where he came from. Danny Fenton, the only son of the two leading scientists of ecto-biologists in ecotology, the one who realized that one of the two purple-back gorillas is a female thus avoiding extinction.

…

Clark Kent by day and Superman by night knew about the invading aliens. He also knew that he could not participate despite being raised on Earth made him unqualified to join. So, imagine his shock when he suddenly found himself with two earth children in the middle of a large arena with futuristic cameras looking at them. He is now in an internal dilemma; how can he save the two kids, while he tries to save Earth altogether?

This train of thought also passed by the young Billy Batson on the said teen, Billy already knew that Superman was already thinking of saving the both of them. Now his priority is to survive and keep his secret ID a secret for a bit longer.

…

Danny on the other hand has a completely different train of thought, he was just about to reach his room. His beautiful room where his bed is, he had just finished a four-hour exam to bring his grades back up to an acceptable level, 9 continuous ghost attacks, another nonsense quarrel between the observers and he is close to committing anarchy just so he can have the same treatment to Pariah Dark, an eternal sleep in a comfortable looking Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.

So imagine his surprise when he is suddenly teleported to what looks like an alien ship, Danny would usually be ecstatic but they have interrupted him, he is so close to his bed. He knew that there would be some sort of an invasion as he remembered the bits and pieces from Tucker’s ramble when they last hung out together.

He doesn’t care if aliens invade Earth, but if you come between him and his bed. He will make sure of what he will do to those who disturb him, he will make his fight with his future self and Pariah Dark like child’s play.

…

The Justice League kept on insisting that they had already chosen their fighters and those who appeared in the middle of their arena were civilians, not warriors. But the invading aliens stayed on their decision and immediately began the games.

The rest of the heroes are now scrambling to not only stop the invading aliens but also save the 2 civilians who were randomly selected.

While the rest of the League is now panicking the rest of the world is now in an outrage. Sending out a civilian man and children by the alien's weird machinery.

The Fenton couples are especially rabid as, if there is anything that tops their ghost obsession, it would be their children’s safety. The family of Batson are on the edge of their seats as they worry for Billy.

…

The games begin with an opening of rules and such, as well as an introduction to the alien’s warriors who are big and full of muscles making the Earth team look so tiny.

The first game starts with a simple hunting game with very minimal clues and tools at their disposal to find what they seek. Clark can crack the code on to where to hunt but it is a dangerous environment, Clark discusses it with his teammates on how to catch it, Clark is already thinking if he should reveal himself as a meta with strength but Danny just glares at the man and grabbed capturing tools form the table and sought out the thing they are designated to hunt.

The other team took a glance at Team Earth and warbled some snickers at how they took looking/hunting too fast without any plans and went back to their planning.

Clark and Billy are worried for their other teammate but after a few minutes, they hear a roar some shuffles, and then silence.

Back on earth, most people are horrified a what could be the teen’s fate but when footsteps were heard they saw the teen again scathed, with a few scratches, and a hulking beast all tied up from its muzzle to its tails.

Clark nervously asked, still maintaining his civilian identity, how on earth Danny had caught such a beast. Danny’s only response was, back from where he came a certain ”friend” really wanted “someone’s” pelt on a wall and learned some things while HE was chasing that “something”.

That starts the Danny effect…

…

A tag sort of game as there is a hunter to hunt them down and their objective is to hide longer than the other team, with both Billy and Danny a part, while Billy lasted a few hours with his wit and skills that he honed during his time when he ran from CPS and the police during his days as a foster child, which is impressive itself as he got two of the other team’s members to be captured first before him. Danny outlasted Billy and the rest of the other team won the game in a landslide and gained some bonus points by not only redirecting the hunter and leading them into a false trail or a dead end but also messing with the said hunter without being spotted by him.

Cooking with live and weird ingredients? Clark initially volunteered to do it as he has a stomach of steel being an alien but cannot cook as he has no idea which ingredient is edible as all alien dishes and ingredients come from Krypton and he has to impress the judges who put them in a disadvantage as the judges are from the same race as the opposing team. Danny just shook his head at Clark quickly put on an apron and set to work.

Clark and Billy immediately turned green at the sight as Danny nonchalantly battled the live ingredients, from the meat section to what seems to be the fruit and vegetable section, It is bloody as it is and quite fascinating as it is disgusting. All their years in the Justice League they have seen some twisted and weird things but seeing their third teammate casually stab what looked like an unholy cross hybrid between an octopus and a shark trying to crawl away from the carnage, cleaned the weird animal from the inside out and fillet it.

Of course, they are in disbelief when the judges practically moan the moment, they taste Danny’s dish. Clark and Billy are pretty sure one of the judges is planning to spare Danny and turn him into their chef if the invasion continues, with the way they look at Danny. The judges reluctantly let Danny’s dish win.

Billy reluctantly asked Danny where he learned to cook like that, Danny’s only response was a grumble of a sound that seemed to sound like at home but that cannot be, right?

Trying to survive an onslaught of hypnotic plants native to the alien’s home world, Danny once again won and even began criticizing the plants for how their music was so horrible that it would not even wake the dead.

Play some sort of FIGHTING VIDEO GAME that is popular in 5 sectors in their part of the galaxy, Danny wins and repeatedly shoots the aliens with pure hatred and anger in his eyes, Clark has to physically drag Danny out of the arena to stop his onslaught of firing to the poor guy who was already on the verge of crying.

And so on with the Earth’s team leading COUGH Danny COUGH and demolishing the invading aliens from their games.

After a while the games are done and Team Earth wins with a massive gap to the invading aliens. They returned the three in the middle of the Metropolis and went away without so much a fuss…

Well, expect that one chef in their midst how begged the leader to take Danny and only him with them but the leader is already fearing for his life as the last few games that humans began to be more feral by the second and he was sure he is also a second away from being the one at the other end of his chopping board.

…

Back on earth everyone cheered on the three and began flashing them their camera lights to get a new scoop, and one brave reporter even tried to interview Danny but when people tried to look for the elusive teen he seemingly disappeared.

Clark knew Danny was, sleeping peacefully in the middle of the bushes a few feet away from them, and kept quiet as he was late to realize that Danny was on the verge of a crash like Red Robin is when he pulled something like this when Conner invited him.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #dp #danny fenton #ghost king danny

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3hks · 3 months

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How to Get Better at Writing Without Actually Writing

Are you looking to improve your writing without needing to write? I'll admit, I am definitely that kind of person--I have the hardest time even finding something interesting to write--despite that, I have noticed that my writing has vastly improved over the past year or two when it was hardly a hobby, and here's how I did it!

ANALYZE DIFFERENT WORKS

Yes yes, everyone tells you to READ, READ, and READ, even I will agree. However, unlike what some people tell you, you don't actually have to read all those classics like Heart of Darkness or The Hobbit. Of course, those books are very beneficial, but if you find no interest in those types of books (like me), then don't read them!

If you prefer reading casual stories posted by online authors, whether it be a fanfiction or their own, original story, it still qualifies as reading! As long as you are able to find a work that you particularly enjoy, that's all you need!

When reading, the key to improving at writing is to always study the story. Take a moment to look at certain words or phrases that stick out to you. How does the author use them? What do they mean? Keep track of the characters' development and how it affects them. Additionally, note things like powerful scenes, dialogue, and more to have an idea of how you can create something just as impactful. For example, if a text made you cry, think about how and why you reacted like that. This can actually help you re-create events that hold the same effectiveness, if not more!

To add on, if you really dislike reading just that much, then you can always analyze things like shows, movies, etc. However, this will prove to be less efficient because you often don't get access to the text behind the shows. Still, it's a good way to study the plot, characters, character developments, dialogue, and relationships!

2. PROOFREADING

No, I'm not saying that you should be an editor; this actually ties back to my first tip. Remember how I said that if you don't want to read classics, then don't? Well, this is because forcing yourself to read them is completely unnecessary (unless you like them or want to write like the author, of course). As a matter of fact, reading poorly written stories can be very helpful for improvement!

When we read books or novels that have obvious grammar errors, repetitive words, and choppy sentences, we will realize these mistakes and point them out to ourselves. Being able to scout out faults means that we are able to learn from them and grow! Noticing these things will also help prevent you from making the same or similar mistakes!

3. STUDY TIPS ONLINE

I used to go search up websites on Google whenever I wanted help with a certain topic. Of course, not all of the sites are reliable and/or helpful, but some point out good ideas that a couple of us just need! This can be especially useful regarding the things that we are unfamiliar with when writing. They can offer a base foundation and tips on how to start and finish!

They can also serve as a great inspiration for fresh ideas and new perspectives!

Yes, these three tips are pretty simple; however, I have found that they work very well for me! People vary from person-to-person, so it can't be guaranteed the same effect, but this is the best I got! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY! <3

Happy writing~

3hks :)

#writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #creative writing #writing advice #improve at writing #improve at writing without writing #writers on tumblr #writer tips #get better at writing #get better at writing without writing

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

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clouded judgment / clear mind

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: it was a long time since Joel had felt a maddening rage like this, but he weren't about to let anyone who dares to hurt you get away with it (based on this ask)

Tags: Joel goes apeshit, angst, a bit of comfort at the end, established relationship, protective Joel (REALLY protective lmao), basically he goes feral

Warnings: uh. VERY graphic descriptions of violence (I'm not good at writing action sequences but it is graphic), swearing, kinda torturing 😬

Word count: 4.5K

A/N: this one was really challenging, but i hope yall will like what i came up with :) i really didn't expect it to be so difficult to write buuut i tried to focus on the "giving-his-brother-nightmares" side of Joel and i think i succeeded. anyway !!! happy reading ❤️

He should have never left you alone.

Which was a ridiculous thought, of course, because how are you supposed to patrol efficiently if the other person refuses to leave your side even for a moment? Besides, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you – he saw multiple times what you were capable of first-hand and he knew you were able to take care of yourself.

He put it forward once – to not split up and patrol the same area within the eyeshot of each other. You sent him a crooked smile at that, saying something about him being a little too overprotective before you gave him a kiss and went on your merry way, leaving him alone and slightly annoyed (but with a faint, stupid grin on his face).

So he tried to rein in this ‘overprotectiveness’ you mentioned. He never brought it up again, even though a cold shiver ran up his spine every time he lost sight of you beyond the safe walls of Jackson. Each time you two went on a patrol, he had to take a second to calm down and remind himself this is not one of his dreams when he loses you.

That’s why at first, when he heard your voice screaming his name from a distance, he wasn’t sure if it was really happening.

The instinct, however, kicked in the next second and he rushed back to where he saw you last, to the interior of a resort around which he was scouting. This was supposed to be one of the safest options for patrolling – no one ever saw any signs of life here besides occasional infected, and Joel was never that worried when you went inside alone to check the place.

He had a feeling his cautious (he really didn’t want to call it ‘overprotective’) nature was gonna become a nuisance again after this incident.

The goddamn downpour outside made listening for any noises aggravatingly difficult. Joel yelled for you, but he didn’t hear any answer and the driving rain beating against the windows of the resort absorbed all the sounds.

He made his way inside the building and up the stairs when he noticed your hat lying discarded against the wall. A wave of ice-cold dread washed over him. The stairway was dark but even with the little light he had he could see a couple of wet, almost black droplets on the dirty floor.

What he felt next reminded him of falling asleep – his shoulders relaxed and from head to toe a cool, silent equilibrium crept over him. Joel gripped his rifle firmly and pushed on soundlessly. It didn’t seem like you were stabbed or shot – there would be much more blood present – but you were hurt. Someone must’ve laid in wait to ambush you, and now…

It didn’t matter. Whoever it was, they made a grave mistake.

Joel reached the second floor, listening intently for any clues as to where you might be or how many people are in the building with him, but he didn’t even have to check the rooms one by one. A faint light, which couldn't have been left by the previous patrol, was spilling out from underneath the doors at the far end of the corridor . He did consider the possibility that it was a decoy and your attacker was hiding in one of the other rooms, but the closer he got to the sliver of light on the dusty floor, and the more doors he passed, it became clear that whoever got you, they weren’t that cunning.

And then he heard it. A sound of a blow from the other side of the door, and then a strangled cry.

It was you. Your voice.

Joel took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and kicked the door open, bursting into the room with his rifle held high – only to find himself surrounded by six men, five of whom were holding him at gunpoint.

The sixth one, a ragged-looking blond, stood over you and the second he saw Joel, he grabbed you by the hair and pressed a knife against your neck, making both you and Joel freeze.

“You’re from this town nearby, right?” asked the man with a heavy accent Joel couldn’t place. “The one that fucking shoots off any newcomers.”

Joel didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at this man. All he could see was your bruised and battered face and the blood running freely from your – probably broken – nose and down your chin. You had a black eye and a split brow, but your gaze was sharp and alert when you looked back at him.

He felt like his insides were boiling.

“Hey, dickhead!” the leader of the group yelled, gripping your hair tighter and making you hiss in pain. “You deaf or something?”

Joel finally managed to take his eyes off you – your blood and your bruises, and the concealed fear on your face – and glared at the man standing over you. His jaw was clenched and nostrils flaring, but he quickly collected himself. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him when you were in danger.

He lifted his hands slowly, showing that he was no threat to them. The thug tilted his head at one of his friends.

“Put down your gun and slide it over.”

Joel watched you following his movements with your eyes as he carefully put his rifle down and kicked it in the direction of one of the men. The blond holding the knife nodded twice.

“Now. You two are from the town, aren’tcha?”

“Let her go,” said Joel, trying to remain calm and not use – quoting Ellie – his ‘asshole voice’. “Then we’ll talk.”

The man shook his head and chuckled.

“Oh, no, no.” He pressed the blade harder against your throat. “We have the upper hand here. You understand?”

The man was looking at him expectantly but Joel’s eyes were nailed on the trickle of blood now running down the column of your neck. He remembered kissing that same neck this morning and tickling it with his nose, and the thought of this fucking bastard cutting your soft skin and leaving such a mark on it made him feel like he was about to burst.

“Fine,” he ground out with his jaw set. He looked over at the leader of the group. “What do you want?”

Had any of them been smarter, they would have picked up a dangerous note in his voice. But just like he suspected, they weren’t that bright.

“You go back to your town and bring five more horses here,” said the blond. “And ammo. My buddy here,” he used his chin to point at another guy, standing behind Joel, “will tell you what kind. You try anything or come back with someone else, and I’ll slit her throat right open.”

“She will go get that shit for you and I will stay,” Joel negotiated strongly, but the leader of the group shook his head again.

“No. No way. You go and bring back everything we ask for, and I’ll let your little friend go.”

Joel’s eyes once again shifted to your form and something inside his chest twitched. You noticed it – of course you did, you were always able to read him like no one else – and tried to offer him a half smile.

“I’ll be fine, Joel,” you reassured him. “Nothing I haven’t–”

“Shut your trap!” The shorter man standing to your right yelled and raised his hand, making you flinch.

Joel could almost feel fire burning in his veins and through his skin, peeling it off his bones.

“Hey! There’s no need for that!” he said louder, taking a step forward, but the gang lifted their guns higher. He stopped and spread his arms wider. “I’ll get you the stuff you want. Just leave her alone.”

“You better hurry, then,” said the blond with a nasty smile, and Joel nodded while trying not to look too desperate. He looked at his friend. “Tell him what we need.”

Joel didn’t give a shit what they were saying – it was him who needed to think of something, and fast. He had a suspicion as to who these men were – he heard from Tommy about a larger group trying to gain entry to Jackson several times. Apparently they threatened the patrol which found them when they were denied permission to join their community. It was before Joel came to the small town for the first time with you and Ellie, but the word around was that any rogue group around this terrains wasn’t to be trusted.

And everything from the description Tommy gave him fit: ragged looks, traveling on foot, low on ammunition.

While one of the men listed what kind of guns they had and how much supplies they wanted, a motion in Joel’s field of vision caught his attention and his eyes darted to you – or more specifically, to your left hand.

You stared right back at him, moving your fingers slightly so the others didn’t notice.

N… O… A… M…

No ammo.

None? That’s probably why the one standing next to you wasn’t holding you at gunpoint but with a knife to the throat. The rest of them must’ve had their pistols drawn just for show. Joel had no idea how you figured it out, but a thought struck him and he surveyed the members of the group. He remembered which one held onto his rifle, but you were armed, too…

As if reading his mind, your fingers started to twitch again the second he looked back at you.

U... Left… B, E, H, I…

Suddenly the man to your right bowed over you again and punched you square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled with contempt and glared back at Joel. “No funny games, you hear me? You come back with a gun or anyone else, and I won’t hesitate to fucking kill her, man.”

Joel’s heart was pounding in his chest. All he could see was your face contorted in pain, all he could hear were your coughs and grunts.

Two of the men came forward – the one on his left had a loaded gun from what you managed to convey to him in sign language – and pushed him towards the exit. Joel shifted his icy stare at the man standing next to him, and then at the two situated near you.

They were all going to die.

When he gets back, he’s going to kill every one last of them, and he’s going to enjoy it immensely.

Joel sent you one last look before turning around and slowly walking out of the room with both men close behind, pointing their guns (and only one of them loaded) at him.

It was going to be alright. He had a stirring of a plan and when he comes back, maybe with Tommy or someone else…

You gasped and coughed again behind his back after the sound of another punch.

Joel came to a dead stop, not registering the gun barrel digging into his back, and he felt like his jaw was going to snap if he kept clenching it like that.

You murmured something he didn’t quite catch and Joel turned his head slightly just in time to see the short man kicking you in the ribs and your form lying on the wooden floor, spitting out blood…

“You think you’re so clever, huh? I swear to fucking god, if you pull something like that again…”

Joel didn’t even let the man finish.

In a split second he elbowed the man behind him, grabbing his hand holding the gun – the one they took from you – and shooting the blond standing over you. He fell backwards and the knife fell out of his grip. Taking out the guy Joel grappled with was embarrassingly easy, and once he had a good grip on the pistol belonging to you, he spun around to face the other thug with his gun, standing on the opposite side of the room.

The ragged man fired at him, but Joel didn’t even need to duck, for the bullet missed him by half a meter at least. The man was lying dead soon after, shot twice in the head, and the remaining three took out their weapons, ready for a fight.

None of them reached for Joel’s rifle, lying under their friend’s corpse.

“That’s even better,” he murmured to himself, unloading the gun and throwing it against the far wall.

If looks could kill, they’d already be lying on the ground and writhing in agony. But Joel was more than happy to do it himself. And with his bare hands.

He strode with confidence to the nearest man who swung a machete at him. Joel avoided the attack and pushed him back, quickly darting to the side and decking the other man coming at him.

A sharp pain ripped through his body from the back of his arm when the third thug cut through his clothes. Joel blocked the second strike and twisted the opponent's arm, applying so much pressure that the bone in the forearm snapped and the man’s scream pierced the air.

He lurched back to dodge the machete aimed at his neck and picked up a knife dropped by the previous guy. He surged forward, driving the blade into the thigh of his current attacker, which made the other man lose his balance. Their friend, the last one still unharmed, managed to punch Joel’s jaw, making something crack and reverberate inside his skull, but he only wiped the blood from his face.

When the last thug came closer, Joel used his own momentum and grabbed the back of his skull, bringing the guy's face down onto his own knee. After that his movements were practically automatic when he grabbed the dazed man from behind and broke his neck in a swift motion.

Breathing heavily, he made his way to the first man he knocked out and took your gun from, picking up the machete en route. That son of a bitch wasn’t even conscious, but it didn’t stop Joel from bringing the weapon down and through his head.

The next one was the bastard with the broken arm, but his screams quickly died away when he, too, received a deep and lethal wound from Joel – this time aimed at his chest, almost cutting it open.

Your yelp ripped through the roar of blood in his ears and Joel turned around just in time to see the blond he shot in the shoulder sitting on top of you, trying to stab you with his knife. You managed to dodge it and before that idiot could try again, Joel came up to you both, grabbed the man’s hair and all but threw him off of you and onto the floor.

The blond was still holding the weapon in his hand, but didn’t get another chance to use it – with all his strength Joel brought the heel of his heavy boot down on the injured man's fingers. The man screamed when the satisfying crunch of the bones in his hand breaking echoed throughout the room and Joel couldn't hide a smirk.

He deserved it. All of them deserved it.

He again saw before his eyes the way this motherfucker kicked you and how his friend threatened to cut your throat. Again he saw red.

“You piece of shit,” Joel whispered, still blinded by rage, and gave the man a taste of his own medicine by kicking him in the stomach as hard as he could. The bastard coughed and yelled in pain but it wasn’t enough.

Joel’s focus was sharp and clear when he stood over the battered and bleeding man, staring down at him with hatred. He thought the blond tried to say something – his lips were certainly moving – but he didn’t concern himself with any begging or threats the thug had to offer. Instead he gripped the front of his sweater and punched him in the jaw, letting the limp body fall to the floor and relishing in the sounds of his curses, his grunts of pain, his blood dripping onto the floor…

Not enough.

Joel did that several more times – grabbing the idiot’s clothes, hair, whatever – to pull him up and hit him in the jaw, temple, nose and wherever else his fist landed. The face of the man was bloodied and he was barely conscious at this point and still all Joel could see was the look of sadistic glee on this man's face after finding an excuse to hurt you.

Joel didn’t have much strength anymore, but he ignored the biting pain from the cut on his arm and the raw wounds on his bloody knuckles, and straddled the lying man. The survival instinct must've kicked in and the blond started to tussle, reaching with his not-broken fingers to Joel’s face, scratching his brow and cheek.

And just like the glee he saw in the thug’s eyes earlier, Joel was more than happy that he gave him an excuse – and an idea – how to hurt him more.

“I saw how you looked at her,” he said in a low tone to the unlucky man, holding his left arm in place with his knee and pressing his own thumb to that fucker's swollen eye. “You like hearin’ people screamin’ in pain? Because I just know this is going to bring me great joy.”

Blood was flowing from under Joel’s finger and down his hand when he gouged the blond’s eye out and the man was shrieking. He was writhing and struggling under Joel's weight, and his voice became guttural and hoarse soon after when the dark blood started to flood his mouth. Joel pulled his hand away, panting heavily, and soaked in the suffering of that bastard whose face now resembled a smashed, bloody goo.

Not enough.

It was unfortunate that the blond was the only one left Joel could take it out on, but he couldn’t find any compassion in himself at the moment. So he punched him again, staining the floor with the scumbug's blood.

And again.

“Joel.”

Joel turned around sharply, grasping the thug’s knife. He could still feel rage churning inside of him and he was breathing heavily, trying to contain the fury filling him without screaming out loud. His hands were covered in blood – not his – and he subconsciously knew that the man lying motionlessly under him was long since dead, his face completely destroyed, but he wished that son of a bitch was still alive so that he could feel the suffering Joel longed to inflict upon him.

Everything because he hurt you.

You…

The ringing in his ears stopped suddenly and the knife fell out of his hand when he ran up to where you were still lying on the floor. You were curled up on your side with your arms wrapped protectively around your stomach and your face twisted in pain.

Joel’s breathing got quicker, now for an entirely different reason, when he noticed that the cut on your neck was bigger than he originally thought, and still bleeding. Your face was bruised and he knew your whole torso will probably turn green and purple soon, too.

“Oh, babygirl,” he whispered tenderly, his trembling hands hovering above your body, but not touching it. “It’s…” It’s alright, he wanted to say. Or maybe, where does it hurt the most?

He had trouble finding his voice, though. In his fury he completely forgot that you were still here and in need of his help.

You took a deep breath and turned your head ever so slightly to look at him in the corner of your eye. A sad smile appeared on your face.

“Hi, Joel.”

Joel breathed in. Out. In again.

For fuck’s sake, what was he thinking?

He quickly wiped the blood of the people he killed on his pants and cursed at himself mentally.

“Hi, darlin’,” he murmured in response, focusing back on you. “You’re gonna be alright. How are you feeling?”

“I think I might have a broken rib or two,” you breathed while Joel pulled out a clean piece of cloth he carried in his jacket for cases like this one and pressed it against the cut on the side of your neck. You winced and he felt a pang of pain in his own chest.

“Can I check?”

You let go of your stomach with a strangled gasp. Joel started to gently feel your torso, trying to discern if he could feel any broken bones or signs of internal bleeding. He kept his touch as delicate as he could, not wanting to hurt you even more, or worse – scare you.

He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, though, no matter how much he tried to calm his breathing. He wished he could hold you as securely as he held his gun, with a quiet heart and sharp focus, but the fear of accidentally hurting you made his fingertips recoil at times.

Although you two knew each other for years now, you were never a witness to this cruel side of him. You knew about it, of course, of horrible things he’s done before he got to Boston and met you. A couple of times you even saw with your own eyes snippets of these primary emotions of fear or anger overtaking Joel’s mind and body.

But never like that. Never with such ferocity, hatred and satisfaction from hurting those who did the same to you.

He just really didn’t want you to be afraid of him. You were so precious to him and often he thought those brutal hands of his, which he knew were guilty of inflicting unimaginable pain and suffering, weren't worthy of touching someone who in his eyes was so delicate and pure.

But it never stopped you from seeking his touch, and although Joel could be stubborn and tough at times, he didn’t have it in himself to ever refuse you anything – even when he knew better.

That was always the case. His judgment and mind were clouded when it came to you.

“I don’t think anythin’ is broken,” he finally said in a quiet voice, cupping your cheek gingerly and turning your head to look at it better. “But the nose probably is. How did it happen?”

“They jumped out on me in the hallway,” you answered, not meeting his eyes while he gently touched the base of your nose. Then you looked to the window against which the still pouring rain was beating. “One of them punched me when I shouted for you. I thought you might have not heard me.”

“I heard you,” he murmured and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You came for me pretty quickly, so–”

“Not that. M’sorry you had to see… this.”

To that, you didn't say anything. Joel felt his heart clenching on itself and almost stopping from the wave of terror that washed over him.

His treacherous mind was rushing him to defend his actions or make excuses – because if he doesn’t, if it turns out you’re scared of him and the things he’s capable of…

You might leave him. And if you leave, Joel won’t survive that.

But he didn’t give in to those cruel thoughts and silenced the voice in his head.

“I’d do it again,” he said quietly, making you lift your head. “In a heartbeat. I’m really sorry you had to see that, darlin’, but I… just know I’d never hurt you. And if I can help it, no one else will either.”

“Hey.” Your knuckles brushed his cheek and you looked at him with sad eyes. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I know you did it to protect me.”

“I wanted them to suffer,” he continued as if you didn’t say anything, but at the same time he soaked in the feeling of your soft touch on his face. “I don’t know how much you saw–”

“Joel.” You sat up with a wince after interrupting him, and your gaze turned sharp. “Why are you telling me this?”

Even though the bloody, battered mess that he made of the blond man seemed to push itself into Joel’s field of vision, he refused to look away from you.

“‘Cause you need to know. I feel like I’d be lyin’ to you if I didn’t explain that it wasn’t an accident or a one-time thing,” he answered, his eyes flickering from your neck to your face, and down to his own stained hands. “Couldn’t think of anythin’ else after I saw you like that, on the ground and…”

“Listen to me.” You took his head firmly in your hands and your gaze was unwavering – like you wanted to make sure that your every word will reach the depths of his soul. “I’ll say it again: you don’t need to explain. I get why you did that. And don’t even think you’re gonna drive me away because of that.”

You knew him too well. Sometimes it was slightly annoying, sometimes even scary.

This time, however, it felt reassuring.

You looked to the side where the body of his last victim lay, and Joel grimaced, gently touching the edge of your jaw and tilting it back to him. “Don’t look,” he whispered, realizing with surprise, as well as a horrible lump in his throat, that he felt almost ashamed.

Your bright eyes met his again and he briefly wondered if your gaze always was so scrutinizing.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said sternly, like always knowing what was going on in his head. “I'm not, so stop thinking that.” You shook him by the arm a little and when he didn’t answer, the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a teasing manner. “I’ve seen you multiple times in the morning. I know you’re secretly a big softie.”

Joel really didn’t deserve this kind of kindness and understanding from you. That didn’t stop him from craving it, though.

He didn't say anything – just leaned in and kissed your cheek tenderly, lingering there for a moment but paying attention not to brush your nose. You exhaled and closed your eyes, your eyelashes tickling his skin, and he decided not to drag this conversation on any longer.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart. I’ll help you up.”

He stood up and held out his hand. It was rough and covered in blood, but even after you saw what he did to those men and heard their screams, you didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Joel,” you said gravely after standing up. There was no trace of your previous smile on your face. “If you were the one in danger, I’d do the same thing.”

You were looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer, and after a couple of seconds he nodded slightly. Apparently it was good enough for you, because you just squeezed his hand and tugged him after you and out of the room.

Joel didn’t know if he believed you.

But your words made him feel calmer and cleared his clouded mind nonetheless.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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amourrs · 23 days

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rich!abby who lives in a veritable bachelor pad- a five million dollar penthouse strewn with loose bills on the floors & residual white powder on all the flat surfaces. she enjoys fucking models- there’s something so fucking addictive about the innocent wide-eyed hunger of a twenty year old who’s just moved to LA to “make it big” in the industry. they’re always so willing, so pliant- after all, anderson pharmaceuticals is a household name and surely it can’t hurt to get on the heiress’s good side… especially when she promises to pull some strings and get them on the guest list at exclusive clubs where the the leering scouts and creepy freelance photographers are actually famous and not just pervs. it’s at one of these clubs that she meets you for the first time- at least four years her junior, hips swaying to the beat of some shitty edm blaring from the state-of-the-art sound system. she’s instantly enraptured. you’re not one of her usual conquests- no, abby recognises you from a couple of pretty big campaigns, the kind you see plastered on billboards advertising the latest prada bag or this season’s must-have $6m watch. she can’t really promise to get you famous when you already are. instead, she approaches you and places her hands on your hips from behind, swaying with you as the song changes to something more seductive, one of the latest chart hits. abby’s heard it before, she thinks absentmindedly. probably from one of the girls she fucked last week. tuesday? no, thursday. maybe. fuck it, who cares- not her, especially not when you’ve turned around and instead of pushing her off have leaned in closer to her, bumping and grinding to the bass as abby leans in close and breathes a question in your ear. “wanna get out of here?” you laugh back at her and shake your head and abby’s shocked. nobody’s ever turned her down and she doesn’t know what to do with it- so she shoves her thigh between your legs in a desperate attempt to change your mind. you roll your hips downwards, whining slightly at the friction and yet never missing a beat. abby just stands there like an idiot and watches you as you get yourself off on her thigh in the middle of the club, clit throbbing as you bite down into her shoulder before coming undone. she expects you to maybe give her your number or something before you walk away, y’know, seeing as she just gave you an orgasm in the middle of one of LA’s most exclusive nightclubs- but you simply pick up a shot from a tray held by a passing server and turn around to send abby a wink over your shoulder. jesus h christ. abby shifts uncomfortably in her damp boxers, makes a mental note of the name of the club & then calls her driver. she doesn’t even get a mile down the road before shoving her hand down her pants.

#abbyanderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson blurb #bachelor!abby

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kentopedia · 1 year

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fresh air

FEATURING. levi ackerman x f!reader — wc: 4.5 k

SUMMARY. everyone on levi's squad wonders where he disappears to when they get time off in wall sina.

CONTENTS. fluff, secret relationship, the scout find out levi is in love, doctor!reader, established relationship, levi gets a minor injury, canon universe, she/they pronouns for hange, no warnings bc this is all just very sweet

based on this ask here ♡

The first time that Levi met you, he’d been too rough around the edges, a newly freed man from the underground with one too many health issues and a sickly complexion.

Against his will, Erwin had sent him in for a medical examination, a requirement he’d been forced to endure before officially joining the Survey Corps. It seemed a life with minimal sunlight had lasting effects on the human body. Levi thought that was a reasonable assumption.

He’d suffered through the check-ups, holding his tongue when the doctors prodded at him with invasive hands and told him what nutrients he needed more of. He’d taken their advice, for the most part.

You were still a nurse back then, holding a strong desire to help people and eyes with an innocence that would never last. When the doctor had been running late one evening, you’d come in to check Levi’s pulse, asked if he had any pain.

He’d stared at you for a moment, and for the first time in his life, fumbled for the right words to say.

Trivial things like beauty had never been important to Levi, but your smile had been the only image in his mind for days.

You’d visited him again for another check-up the next day.

And Levi was, really, perfectly fine. He knew there was nothing seriously wrong with him. Though, you had been so eager to do your job, so happy to help a fragmented man, that he let you take care of him for a week and, ridiculously, pretended that he was in much more pain than he actually was.

A hesitant sort of bond started between you after that. You were still intimidated by his brashness, and he was too afraid of his own feelings to ever let himself accept that he found you enjoyable to be around.

Although, whatever he felt ceased to matter after that. Levi officially became a scout, lost the only two people that cared about him, and hardened even more.

Years passed before he saw you again, and by then, you’d become a doctor, saved more patients than you lost, and built a name for yourself.

Levi saw you much more once he became the Captain of the Survey Corps; soldiers on his squad were always getting injured, and he nearly died on a couple missions.

Somewhere along the way, he’d fallen for you. Too quickly and too easily, especially for a man like him who knew better than to care for people.

Still, he figured he was allowed at least one good thing in life, and he’d chosen that to be you. The pretty little doctor who had snuck into his heart.

“Levi?” Hange was in front of him, snapping a hand in front of his eyes, overly concerned and much too close. “Are you losing more blood? You look pale.” She prodded at him, a humored grin spreading across her mouth. “Someone might think you’ve been living underground.”

Hange laughed loudly and Levi pushed them away, irritated, and worn-out from the mission.

“I’m fine,” he said, though his ribs ached, and he couldn’t deny the pain that lingered in his side. “Just get off of me. You smell foul.”

Hange made a face. “Just plug your nose then.” A slender finger poked at his ribs again, and he recoiled, hissing. “See! You’re not okay.”

Levi’s aggravated response went unheard as Hange called a doctor over, waving their hands dramatically. A scowled embedded even deeper into his features.

“I’m fine, shithead. Stop being dramatic.”

Though his protests didn’t matter much. A man in a white coat came by after Hange’s call, adjusting a spectacle as he tucked parchment under his arm. “Is everything alright?”

“Can you please have the captain checked out? He was injured outside the walls, and I’m not sure our first aid did well at stitching him back up.”

The doctor looked over Levi skeptically, peeling back the wrapping around his middle that had already dried brown with blood. “We’ve got a lot of people in need of assistance. I can try and get a nurse to help you, but—”

“Where’s the other doctor?” Levi knew your name, of course he did, but he was afraid if he said it something would change on his face. “The younger one.”

“There are other squads that ended up worse off. She’s taking care of them at the moment.” the gray-haired doctor said, looking at his parchment. “I’ll tell her to make her way over here. I don’t know how long it will be.”

Levi could tell what the man was thinking: that he was Captain Levi, and they could afford to lose the other scouts, but they couldn’t afford to lose him. Still, Levi’s wound had been treated sufficiently. At the very least, he didn’t feel like he would pass out again any time soon.

“I can wait.” Levi looked at the other battered members of the Scouts, some of them with slices up their arms and deep gashes in their skulls. It was a sickening sight really. No one should’ve been worried about him. “These soldiers have worse injuries than I do. You should treat them first.” He glanced at Hange beside him, the glasses making their eyes look even rounder. “And take Hange while you’re at it. Maybe you can find out if there’s a cure for being an idiot.”

The doctor cracked a smile. “Come with me then, Section Commander. You seem to be free of injuries, and we need some help taking care of these soldiers.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll do everything I can.” Hange nodded and stood to follow the doctor. She sent Levi one last look before leaving. “Don’t let your wound get infected because you’re trying to play the hero.”

“I’m fine, Hange. Seriously.” He blinked at her, his expression blank, and Hange sighed before disappearing into the crowd, into the mess of carnage from another fruitless journey outside the walls.

Levi waited for a half hour, watched as more soldiers were led away from the central room into the private wing of the hospital. Someone had cracked a window, and a warm breeze of fresh air fanned into the anteroom.

It was starting to get hot again. He dreaded the summer missions that burned his skin.

The chair was stiff, but he could’ve dozed off in it, suddenly feeling more light-headed than he had when Hange left. Levi shifted, bringing a palm down to his wound. The pain was starting to get worse again. When he drew his hand away, there was more blood.

Shit. That wasn’t a good sign. The stitches mustn’t have been done properly.

He started to stand, beginning to wonder if he should just stitch the wound back up himself, when you finally approached, and the sight of you sent a wave of relief over him. You were like his very own guardian angel, illuminating the hospital with nothing more than a hopeful smile.

Immediately, Levi softened, wondering how you could get more and more beautiful every time he saw you.

“Captain Levi.” Your eyes dropped to the seeping bandage, the shoulder that wasn’t sitting right. He’d dislocated it, twisted a little too funny when slicing up a titan. The tissue there had probably worn down too much. “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for me.”

“My injuries are minimal. Thought I’d take my chances until someone competent could stitch me up properly.”

Your jaw clenched, and though you reached your hand out to him, you retracted it, remembering there were other people around. With a sigh, you pointed over your shoulder instead. “Come with me.”

Levi followed you down the hall, to a shimmering white room that smelled too much like flowers. You gathered a few supplies, and he watched you, taking a seat on the bed.

Without a word, you began unwrapping the bloody gauze, cleaning the dark wound with unfazed, sharp eyes. His chest was exposed to you, the shirt already removed.

“At least tell me you missed me before you get me undressed,” Levi said, his tone dry as you pressed a warm cloth to his skin.

You narrowed your eyes, your expression exhausted. He was certain you’d been working nonstop since the Survey Corps got back. “I did miss you, Levi,” you said quietly, wringing the blood out of the cloth. “I always miss you.”

Against his will, Levi’s heart panged in his chest. It was almost too easy for you to get a rise out of him.

You worked in silence, and Levi let you—you’d done this many times for him before, and he knew how much you hated being disturbed.

Though, you looked so sweet with your lip jutted out in focus, and he relaxed, unable to stop himself when he leaned forward to give you a kiss.

To Levi’s disappointment, you saw him coming and pushed him away, placing a bloody hand in front of your mouth to stop him. “Levi!” you shouted in exasperation, though you were far too used to him to be surprised. “I’m not done.”

He sighed, leaning back once more, though the smallest of smiles was on his lips. “I thought you were the best doctor in the interior,” he said mockingly. “Shouldn’t you be a little faster than this?”

“You should work on being more patient. It’s only been a few minutes.”

“Has it?” Levi snorted. It felt like an eternity. You were there in front of him, so lovely and focused, and he could hardly contain himself. He’d spent weeks away from you, and he couldn’t even sneak a quick kiss.

You laughed, the sound stirring up butterflies in his stomach, and he relented, the seriousness in your expression pulling him back to reality. He sat quietly and left you to do your work.

Your hands were soft against his skin as you sealed up the wound, fixed up the stitches, so gentle that he almost forgot about the pain entirely. Having you to watch certainly helped keep him distracted.

Finally, you stepped away, satisfied, and grinned. “Alright. All done.”

“You mean it?” Levi leaned forward, and the ache in his abdomen pinched. “You’re not going to wipe your disgusting palm on my face if I try to kiss you?”

A part of him was, completely serious, but another laugh escaped you as you wiped your hands on a clean rag, the blood still staining your palms. But it was his blood and Levi figured if it had already dirtied his own skin, it didn’t matter much.

He kissed you, momentarily, and the feeling of your lips brought him entirely back to life. Levi wasn’t sure what about you changed him so completely, made him feel a jolt of energy zap into him every time you were around, but he was addicted to it.

He took a breath, for a moment, his expression gentle, though he didn’t have the opportunity to kiss you again. The door had been thrown open, slamming against the wall, and Hange strolled in, wearing a wide smile and bright eyes.

“Levi,” Hange said, much too loudly, and he recoiled, wondering if they’d seen him kiss you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Probably not then. Hange would have made that the first topic of conversation.

You smiled politely beside Levi, already placing a professional distance between you. He craved the warmth, missing you again already. “How are you, Hange? I take it you didn’t get too banged up on the mission?”

Hange laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder like old friends. “Not a single scratch.”

“A miracle, really, with the way you’re always throwing yourself into danger.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. I always play it safe.” Hange turned back to Levi; lips pulled up to reveal a white grin. “I see you’re feeling better then. The doctor got you all patched up?”

“I always do,” you hid a smile behind your hand, careful not to touch it to your mouth.

Levi sighed, hating how well you two got along. He might as well have told Hange about your relationship in the very beginning. You two saw each other every time the Scouts were in the interior wall. “Didn’t you have something to tell me, Hange?”

Hange scrunched her face up, before recognition passed through it. “Right,” they said, straightening. “Erwin’s requested your presence in a meeting with Commander Pyxis and the Military Police. They’ve got a lot of questions.”

“I’m sure they do.” Levi struggled to his feet, feeling much older than he really was. He wondered when all of the hits to his body would start to catch up to him. “I’ll follow you out, then.”

Levi exchanged a look with you, conveying everything he couldn’t with Hange standing there.

“I’ll see you later then, Captain Levi. Hange.” Your smile was refined, corresponding to your current status, and you saluted like a good soldier would. Then, the two of them were off.

Hange tossed a grin over their shoulder once the two of them were outside the hospital, eyes crinkling behind thick lenses. “You look a little flushed there, Captain.”

Levi stared back at Hange indifferently, not an ounce of emotion in his cool eyes. Hange always teased him when it came to you, but he doubted she ever figured out the truth. “Is that so?”

“Why don’t you just confess your love already?” Hange said romantically, batting their eyes and holding clasped hands to her chin. “It’s been years Levi.”

“I’m sure you’re not insinuating I’ve got any sort of romantic feelings,” Levi said dryly. He was certain that he had not been blushing, and he pinched Hange’s cheek too, the pink tint there as well from the warm weather. “It’s not like it’s nearly summer.”

Hange swatted him away, their joyful expression falling as a pout formed on their lips. “Oh, you’re so boring, Levi. I’m only messing with you.”

Levi let out a weary noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, wondering how he’d managed to put up with the most insufferable person for years and years on end. “You sound like a teenager.”

After his mess of a meeting with the military police, Levi headed to one of the nicer homes at the edge of the city, an older building in Wall Sina that had managed to stay intact after the Female Titan incident.

It wasn’t his home, not really, but it was the only one he had outside of the military housing and the single private room he received as a commanding officer. And, it might as well have been his anyway—his clothes all hung in the closet, his teacups stuffed in a crowded cabinet. He was there more than he was anywhere else.

The door opened easily when he pushed the knob, and while he knew you were expecting him, he hoped you didn’t always keep it unlocked. The streets were too wrought with crime; a fact he was far too aware of.

When he opened the door, the scent of home and a freshly made meal invaded his senses, warming him to the very core of his soul. He slid his shoes off at the door, careful not to track in any mud.

You hadn’t heard him come in, too busy cutting up vegetables to throw into a pot. You hummed to yourself softly, distracted entirely by your own thoughts.

Levi smiled, admiring you for just a moment and taking in that second to carry it with him on his next mission. For so much of his life, he’d hardly had a home to come back to. It was nice to remember that he had a person waiting for him on the other side, someone that could be there for him in the moments that he didn’t want to be alone.

He snuck up behind you quietly, and you remained completely unaware until he wrapped his arms around your middle, relaxing into your body in a way he’d never been able to when he was away from you.

You jumped momentarily, but eased into his arms right after, recognizing his touch easily. One of your softer hands wrapped around his, the other still throwing chopped vegetables into the pot.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” yod, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, tranquil.

So much of his time had been spent in a world that was a living hell, trying to deal with the overarching mess that had started years ago, and being with you was the only time he could ever recover. The knowledge that he didn’t have to always be humanity’s strongest soldier with you gave him, at least, some semblance of peace.

“I hope I didn’t scare you,” he whispered, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he looked at the stew you were making. It was the best thing he had smelled in weeks, and Levi felt too spoiled after a childhood spent eating mud and garbage from the streets. “You could’ve waited for me to get home. I would’ve cooked something instead. I know you’ve been working all day, taking care of the Scouts.”

“Levi.” You pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, smiling into the delicate skin. “You’ve been gone for weeks. You probably haven’t had a proper meal since you left, and you were injured. I don’t want you to strain yourself.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m glad you’re home. You can get some rest now.”

You pressed a kissed to his nose, and no matter how many times you referred to your home as his as well, a fiery warmth bloomed inside of him.

“Me too.” Levi smiled at you tiredly, brushing his thumb over your lips before retracting. “I’m going to get cleaned up. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“I’ll tell you when the food is ready.”

Levi nodded, and released you hesitantly, already wanting to be around you for every moment he had in Wall Sina. Instead, he headed towards the bathroom, where he knew the soap that he preferred would be waiting for him, just as he’d left it before.

“Levi?”

He turned at the sound of your voice. You were watching him with hearts in your eyes, the very expression something he would probably never been accustomed to.

“I love you.”

Levi softened, his feet melting into the floor entirely. “I love you too.”

Your face grew so bright, and you turned back to your task, newly invigorated. Levi had gotten better at saying the words, at accepting that you wouldn’t get taken away from him just because he cared about you.

It had been a long road, certainly, but somewhere along the way he’d started to become familiar with happiness.

“Levi, what do you think of this one?” You spun in a slow circle, making sure that he saw every angle of the dress. You were watching him with a skeptical look, suspecting that he wouldn’t be honest with you.

Which was maybe true. Levi didn’t know very much about what was in style. He just thought you looked nice in everything.

“It’s pretty,” he said, indulging you with a nod. “You look very pretty.”

Despite yourself, you grew warm, smiling at yet another compliment from him. He’d said the same thing about every dress, but he loved seeing the expression on your face, the twitch of embarrassment, even though you’d been together for years.

It was rare that the two of you got to do something so calming. You were meant to go to a ball in the upcoming weeks, gain some kind of recognition for your accomplishments as a doctor, and you were in desperate need something to wear.

Of course, you’d decided the moment that Levi was home would be the perfect time to go shopping.

Though, it didn’t matter. He would’ve gone with you anyway, even if you needed an outfit or not. Levi was just so incredibly proud of you. A part of him wished he could accompany you to the ball, even if being in a stuffy room with a crowd of pretentious, wealthy men sounded like the most undesirable event in the world.

“Well, which makes me seem like I know what I’m doing?” you asked him through the mirror, the tailor doing her best not to intrude on the conversation. “I like the blue one, but do I look too young?”

“Well, you’re not old,” Levi scoffed. “Besides, I hardly think you need new a dress to let people know you’re a professional.” Though, he mulled over the question regardless, mostly taking your inquiry seriously. You were making a face at him. “I like the blue one too.”

He liked them all, really.

You smiled, letting the tailor finish up her job and Levi turned, wondering how much of a dent this would put in his wallet.

“I’ll just be a second,” you said, leaning down from your stool to kiss him. His lips curled up when they met yours. “Want to wait outside?”

“Sure.” Levi turned, and for a moment, swore he saw a flash outside, someone speeding past the window. When he looked closer, no one was there.

He ignored it, leaving a wad of cash with the store-owned and tried to remember that he no longer needed to save that money for another meal.

As he waited for you to finish up, Levi leaned against the wall, watching the people walk back and forth, paying him no attention at all. It was sometimes easy to forget that not everyone recognized him. Not everyone cared, really, that he was Captain Levi.

It was refreshing to be ignored.

“Levi,” you said wearily as you came out of the short building, and he knew what was coming next, knew what words would leave your mouth. “I told you I’d take care of it.”

“Consider it paying back a favor.” He fell into step beside you as you turned the corner, going down the narrow alley.

You creased your eyebrows skeptically, trying to catch his eyes. The ones that had brightened minimally after a night of rest in an actual bed. “A favor for what?”

“I don’t know. Letting me live in your house? For cooking for me last night?” Your frown deepened, exasperated and Levi sighed, rolling his eyes. “Just accept the gift, you idiot. I was trying to do something nice.”

You gazed at him in disbelief for another moment before laughing, the seriousness evaporating. “You’re so sweet.” You grinned, and Levi thought that was hardly the word to describe him, but you seemed so happy that he didn’t say anything. “I appreciate it a lot. Thank you.”

“Come on,” Levi said, huffing when you tried to kiss him again. “We should go back home before I run into one of those intolerable brats from my squad.”

Though, Levi really regretted the words, wondering if there was some higher being out there who just lived to cause him grief. Not a moment later, he heard a familiar voice rounding the corner, getting much too close to where he was standing.

“Armin, look! I told you. I saw him with someone.”

Levi’s jaw tightened as Eren sprinted down the alley with his smarter blond friend in tow, and a dark-haired girl who never seemed to leave his side.

The three of them nearly ran into the two of you, skidding to a stop only when they noticed you both turning the corner, and gauged the unamused expression on Levi’s face.

“What are you two doing here? Don’t you have training or something?” Levi’s voice was stern, though he knew they had the day off, just as he did. Just as you did.

“Captain Levi!” Armin straightened, looking nervous under his tense gaze. Levi wondered what it would take for that kid to gain some confidence. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to intrude. Eren just said—”

“Eren said—” Eren began, but before he could continue, Hange had also come around the corner with Erwin, the two of them laughing like they’d found something very funny.

Levi wished he had his gear so he could start swinging the blades at all of them.

“Levi,” Erwin greeted him good-naturedly, and Hange was snickering beside him, their eyes glued to the minimal space between you and him. “Eren said there was an emergency this way. What seems to be the issue?”

That little shit. Levi could’ve kicked the stupid grin right off his face again.

“Did he?” Levi said, swallowing down his anger, his expression as nonchalant as usual. “I’ve got no idea what he could possibly be talking about.”

“Eren said you two were kissing.” Mikasa spared no time for idle conversation, her eyes as hard as his own as she made the comment in a bored tone. If Levi had to guess, she’d been pulled into the situation because Eren had caught them and couldn’t keep his nose out of other people’s business.

And Hange, who had never been very good at holding back laughter, doubled over with tears gathering at the corners of their eyes.

“Oh,” you said beside him, embarrassed, and Levi softened, remembering that even though he’d kept the relationship a secret for your own safety, there really had never been a need to. You were never going to leave his life, not if he could help it, and he trusted the five people before him enough to keep it from becoming public knowledge. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, momentarily panicked. “That was my fault.”

Levi hated the look on your face; he never wanted you to look so disheartened again. He sighed. “Eren, you should learn to keep your mouth shut.”

At least, Eren had the good sense to sober up. His back became rigid, any humor disappearing from his face immediately. “Right, sir, I’m sorry. I just thought—”

“I’ve got the day off like the rest of you, don’t I? Maybe you should let us spend it in peace.” Levi boldly grabbed your hand, walking through the middle of the starstruck crowd, knowing he’d have to deal with their endless questions sooner than later.

For now, though, he just wanted a relaxing day with you by his side.

“Levi, wait! Why didn’t you tell me?” Hange’s dramatic cries rang out through the air as he glared at them over his shoulder, eyes narrowing so intensely it almost hurt.

Behind him, Eren’s cry of pain could be heard after Mikasa slapped him over the head. “Eren! I told you that was a bad idea.”

“Bye!” you said sweetly, like nothing had happened, and continued along with your hand in Levi’s, a stupid smile on your face.

When you were far enough away from lingering ears, Levi looked over to you, shaking his head. “Why do you look so happy?” he asked, exasperated, and ready to go home.

You shrugged. “I like that someone else knows that I love you.”

And though Levi would still push Eren twice as hard at the next training, he couldn’t be too mad at him after that.

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harunayuuka2060 · 8 days

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Vil: Did you manage to resolve the issue?

MC: Yes. It was a bit difficult at first, but the client listened in the end.

Vil: …

Vil: You shouldn't have disclosed that you used to work as a concierge.

Vil: Now everyone is bothering you.

MC: *smiles* That's better than doing nothing.

MC: I'm not here for relaxation anyway.

Vil: …

Vil: Anyway, I received news from Dad. A director, who is a friend of his, needs a stand in.

Vil: And he wants to hire you for this.

MC: Huh?

Vil: What do you think?

MC: …

MC: Is physical appearance a requirement?

Vil: He didn't specify. Although he might need you for doing action stunts.

MC: …

MC: Alright.

Vil: Hm. Great. We'll be meeting him this afternoon to discuss it.

MC: Okay.

The casting director: *after seeing MC for the first time* Oh my seven…

MC: …

The casting director: Their face, their eyes, their built… *turns to look at Vil’s dad* Oh, Eric! Where did you find such a fine specimen?!

Eric: *chuckles* They're a friend of Vil.

The casting director: *turns to MC again* Do you have any experience in acting?

MC: …

MC: Yes. But it was a long time ago.

The casting director: Oh? How come I've never seen you in any movie?

Vil: They usually played as a double at that time, especially for action scenes.

The casting director: A double? With this gorgeous face?

Eric, MC, and Vil: …

The casting director: Oh sweetheart, you are straight out of a fairy tale!

MC: Um…

The casting director: Everyone! We found our protagonist!

The staff: *cheers*

MC: …

MC: *smiles* We might've some misunderstanding—

The casting director: Thank you so much, Eric, for bringing me this one!

Eric: *chuckles* You're welcome.

Vil: …

Vil: Dad.

Eric: Er, I didn't know she was looking for someone to be a protagonist.

Vil: …

Vil: *has managed to convince the casting director to do a screen test first before deciding on MC*

The casting director: MC, don't be nervous. Okay?

MC: *nods*

The actress: Good luck. *smiles kindly at them*

MC: *smiles back* Thank you.

The casting director: Okay! Let's roll the camera!

Vil: …

The casting director: Action!

MC: *looks at the actress with a gentle gaze* *then subtly smiles*

Vil: …

The actress: …

The actress: *ends up blushing*

The casting director: Cut! Cut! That is perfect!

Vil: …

The actress: I-I’m sorry.

MC: *feeling slightly embarrassed* It’s alright.

Vil: …

Vil: Looks like you'll be doing separate work now.

MC: Yes. But I won't still be neglecting my duties here.

Vil: …

Vil: Have you told the news to Che’nya?

MC: Yes. *smiles* He was really happy about it.

Vil: …

Vil: I haven't congratulated you yet. Let's have a toast?

MC: It's already late and you have an appointment tomorrow.

Vil: You're right.

Vil: Let's do it tomorrow then.

MC: *smiles*

MC: Why are you still awake, Che’nya?

Che’nya: I wasn't able to call you all day, nya~.

MC: Yeah, I'm sorry. Something unexpected happened.

Che’nya: That you got scouted for a movie and received the protagonist role?

MC: …

MC: How did you know?

Che’nya: Nyaha~ The actress you practiced with is Neige’s co-star before!

MC: I see.

Che’nya: Congratulations nya~.

MC: *smiles* Thank you.

Che’nya: When will the taping start?

MC: In the next couple of weeks.

Che’nya: Hmm… Does that mean you have to stay there longer?

MC: Hm. Yes.

Che’nya: …

Che’nya: Nya love~

MC: Hm?

Che’nya: I miss you nya~!

MC: *chuckles* I miss you too.

Che’nya: *squeals* So sweet~! Bye-bye~! *ends the call*

MC: *smiles*

Neige: How did it go?

Che’nya: Nya love has no idea we're here!

*Both of them has arrived to the airport*

Neige: Oh Che’nya, I told you to inform MC.

Che’nya: Nope! I'm surprising my spouse! :3

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst chenya #twst vil #twst neige #twst vil and mc series 1

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edenesth · 4 months

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The Way to His Heart [1]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2

Park Seonghwa.

As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.

For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.

But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.

In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.

But he was more than fine with it.

The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.

One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.

You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.

His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.

Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.

Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.

And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.

The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.

This time would be no different.

"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.

The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.

Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."

He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"

The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."

That was enough to silence him.

He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.

But what choice did he have?

None.

"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.

His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."

"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."

Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.

As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.

Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.

He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.

Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."

Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."

Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.

More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.

All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.

Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.

"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.

"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.

The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"

Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"

The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.

Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.

Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.

Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?

That, you'll never know the answer to.

You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.

Life has been nothing but hell ever since.

No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.

All you could remember was pain.

Endless pain all throughout your childhood.

In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.

Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.

No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.

So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.

Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.

You struggled to figure out where to sit.

Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.

You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.

"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."

You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.

"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."

Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.

"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.

But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"

Oh.

Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.

"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.

You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.

Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.

After all, you had had enough of this life.

On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.

The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"

Oh.

That made sense.

Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?

Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.

"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?

But this was only temporary.

You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.

How much worse could it get?

After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?

One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.

With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.

Happiness?

You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.

Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?

Perhaps not.

Well, now they might.

Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.

Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.

But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."

Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"

Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.

Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."

You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"

He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."

That hurt.

Why did it hurt?

It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.

"You want happiness? Find it with him then."

« Preview of Part 2 »

The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."

The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"

With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."

Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."

Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.

"Only the best for future Lady Park."

I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.

Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified

#edenesth #the way to his heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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reginaofdoctorwho · 2 years

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not to be an asshole but even if you grew up with abusive parents there is a point where you have to recognize that and realize maybe the reason people don't like u is because you are a shithead whose "jokes" are just at the expense of others

#please do not reblog #but this is specifically because my brother acted like an asshole to our niece and was borderline #gaslighting her to the point she was almost crying #she's 3yo just for reference #and then tried to turn it into her just being too sensitive when my mom made him leave over it #and now my mom's feeling guilty about it because she he's acting just like our dad (abusive) and she thinks it's her fault #which is bullshit because for one thing he had her example. and for another we didn't live in a bubble #he had teachers he had friends he was in boy scouts #he had countless examples of good people and he had the example of our dad #who my mom divorced and whose children mainly don't speak to him (2 or 3/10)#maybe out of 9 since we have a dead sister #should i count her? either way majority have gone no contact w him #also i chose to believe god himself punished my brother for hitting his son a couple weeks ago #because he hit his son->next day ex has custody-> next day after that his leg gets broken #i don't pray often anymore but god pulled through on this #i wanted him to suffer and he still is #anyway his ex is great good on her for getting out before they were married #idr where i was going w this post

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oharababe · 30 days

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❝ ACROSS FOR COMFORT ❞ ficlet premise. when he feels that the weight of the world is crushing him, miguel can only think of one person he can go to and unravel his biggest fears. he'd go to you even though you are far away from across the multiverse.

pairing: spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara x reader genre: mature warnings: hurt/comfort, longing from afar word count: 2,148

Miguel knew that he divided the Spider Society the moment he let everyone know that they would not stop until Miles Morales was brought back to him.

Anger coursed through his veins when the young Spider-Man managed to slip through his fingers and escape from the Society again. He’s been defeated by a sixteen year old boy, who only had a year experience as a vigilante, who didn’t know much about the big sacrifices all Spider-Heroes had to make. And yet, he managed to draw everyone out of headquarters so that he can escape where no one can find him.

But Miguel will make sure that Miles is found, even if he has to take drastic measures in order to protect the Multiverse.

The boy wasn’t supposed to be Spider-Man, and yet Miles managed to outsmart him single-handedly. Outsmarted himself, Spider-Man 2099. Who has been protecting the multiverse for years with more experiences compared to the young hero. Who has never seen how fragile the universe is. Who made one mistake that caused the ruins of other people’s lives, wiping their existences off the arachnid humanoid poly multiverse (yes, that name does sound a little far-fetched, but he will always refer to the multiverse as that). Miles Morales reminds him of himself, and Miguel hates it. The one who thought that he can have the best of both worlds; saving lives and having the people close to them alive.

I thought we were supposed to be the good guys?

We are, he told Gwen. They still protect the multiverse, saving people’s lives. He was keeping the universe together. And yet, he couldn’t get her words out of his head that echoed in the back of his mind. Miguel knows that the weight of his words and actions have divided the Society, but what was he supposed to do when he tried to explain the situation to Miles calmly and it didn’t work out? And the possibility of another multiverse wiping off its existence can happen again?

Miles Morales reminds him of himself, believing that Spider-Man can have everything in his life. The reality of it is that they can’t. No matter how hard he tried and the consequences led to severe destruction because of him—it was selfish of Miguel to think he could have it all.

Miguel sneers when a couple of the Spider-Heroes give their updates that they couldn’t find Miles Morales in the universe they’re assigned to. His fangs bare under his mask, the tone of his voice edge command and hint of desperation as he commands the heroes to continue their search on the young vigilante. The multiverse is large and he knew that Miles could be anywhere. But the boy wouldn’t be able to hide and escape away from him for too long. Miguel knows that—he’ll make sure to find Miles Morales and confinement will have to be done.

Setting up coordinates to a certain dimension, he strode into the wormhole and reappeared at the end of the time tunnel. The rain has stopped and he’s greeted to a new environment. It was pitch black, quiet and the full moon brightens up the dark canvas of the skies. Feeling the serenity in the air, calmness begins to settle in him, something that he hasn’t felt in a long time. He scouted the multiverse, taking notes of which universes he visited so that he could look for Miles. Earth-223 is no different; his mission is still to catch the young boy. But a thought crosses his mind when he comes to this universe, and his heart starts to race a little faster.

Miguel hasn’t visited Earth-223 in a while and his stomach curls as he overlooks a part of the city. He glances down at his gizmo and as he suspected, there are no energy levels of anomalies on Earth-223. He has a job to do—to protect the multiverse—but at that moment, his mind is drawn to one thing that he’s been hoping to do since his arrival.

He moves and swings swiftly from one place to another, going to a place that he had in mind. With one last jump, Miguel lands on top of a roof building perfectly, landing on his feet and rising up to stand. He overlooks a particular street apartment that he’s been looking for. His eyes look down at the street and observe the citizens that walk past by. Miguel knows that he shouldn’t be doing this but a part of him couldn’t help himself to go along with the plan. To find someone from this universe that he knows well.

And within his view, there you were. Walking down the streets of where your apartment complex is. Seeing how late it is at night, you must have just got off work, ready to return back to your home. He watches as you approach the apartment’s main entrance, taking out your keys and watching you enter the building.

Miguel lets out a breath that he didn’t realise that he was holding back. You live on the fifth floor of the building and he contemplates on if he should do what he’s been wanting to do with you. In the apartment, he has a hunch that you’re walking up the stairs to your flat. It should take less than five minutes at least and his mind races as he debates on whether he should take the leap or not.

“Lyla,” Miguel speaks up. “Call them.”

“A-are... are you sure you want to do that?” Lyla questions. You should be on the way up to your place, maybe walking down the corridor as you prepare to get your keys out to get inside. He knows your routine like the back of his hand.

“Just do it,” his voice firms. “Call them.”

Lyla doesn’t argue and she tells him that she’s connecting his earpiece to your phone number. Through the window of your apartment complex, he can see that the front door unlocks and opens. You step in, put down your bag and take off your coat to hang it up. Miguel sees that you stop midway and your hands pat down to your side pockets. He knows that his call is ringing on your phone because a smile appeared on your face despite how tired your day must have been. “Hey,”

“Hey,” Miguel responds back. He notices you move around in your apartment, going to the kitchen. Your voice speaks to him on your end of the line, asking about what he has been up to with that calm and cheerful tone of yours. He keeps it brief about his day because he would rather hear about yours, than to remember the crisis he is currently facing. The mask on him disappears away as Miguel listens to you. His free hand rubs against the pad of his fingers together, sometimes running through his dark brown hair. His eyes never leave your sight as he sees you walking around in your kitchen, listening to you talk his ear off that he welcomes deeply.

“When are you ever going to stop calling me that?” Miguel half jokes. The corner of his mouth curves up into a half smile. Though his words come across displeasure, his heart races at the nickname you made. Please never stop calling me that. “Miguelito? Really?”

“Well, you never complain.” You tease back. There’s a moment of pause before he hears you speak up again. “Hey, I can tell something is bothering you. You okay?”

Miguel realises that he can never escape from your skepticalism, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. You’re the only civilian who knows about his identity and what he does, even if he isn’t the Spider-Man from your Earth. He knows better than to let anyone in but when it comes to you, he couldn’t stay away. Drawn to you like a moth to flame. Maybe in truth, the reason he is on your Earth is not to find Miles Morales. But rather, to look for you.

“I don’t know if what I did was the right thing to do.” Miguel’s voice wavers.

Quietness settles between the two of you, and he allows himself to lower his guard down as his voice guides him. “I know that I have to be the one to do it. But I just… don’t know where I am going with this. I thought I knew what it takes to carry this burden.”

Miguel sighs, the weight of his thoughts and words prior tightens in his chest. He finds it a struggle to downright say that he wants to express at times. He stayed silent and exhaled out slowly, his chest deflated. Miguel’s eyes clock on your figure by the window and though he could only see a side profile of you, he catches a small glimpse of you quietly as well. Not long after, you speak up. “I’m really sorry that you’re having a rough time.”

“I feel that I did this to myself. Always so… rigid.” A solemn expression etched on his face.

“True but you have gone through a lot.”

“There’s this new kid who isn’t like the rest. Different. Which worries me.” Miguel begins. “I told him about the predicament of the future of all Spider-Man—that we will all lose someone close to us. And, Miles wouldn’t accept that.”

“I see.” You say. “Who is he predicted to lose?”

“His father, a Captain.” Miguel says. “Miles is trying to change the future and I can’t let that happen.” His voice sterns for a brief moment. “Or else he’s making the same mistake as I did. Have the same guilt that I carry.”

The invisible weight he feels in his mind and chest lightens somehow when he tells you what’s going on. You’re quiet when he’s done talking and there’s a moment of pause lingering between you two.

“I don’t really know much about the effects of messing up timelines,” you say. “But from an outsider’s perspective, it seems that Miles would go against the predicted fates because he would rather give all he’s got than do nothing. Even if he’d get hurt by messing up the timeline, I think Miles would be even more hurt and guilt-ridden if he didn’t give it a try for himself to save someone.”

Miguel stays quiet. There is something in your words that reaches him, anchoring him to see things differently. You’ve always been good at putting things into a different perspective.

“I know you care for the kid, Miggy.” You continue. “Even though you have an odd way of demonstrating that.”

He could imagine the corner of your mouth curving up into a smile as you chuckle softly at your end of the line. And he does the same; cracking a smile on his face for once since the mess of the Spider Society everything happened. Miguel allows himself to venture with the idea of a peaceful life with you; a life where he would return home to you on his good and bad days, and you would be the one he is excited to come home to. He wants to be comforted by you. To hold you in his arms, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

He wishes he could just be with you. To him, you are his world. But he knows that you’re only a tiny fraction of this multiverse he swore to protect, even if it means keeping his distance away from you.

“Miguel? Are you still there?” Your voice speaks through the earpiece.

He cleared his throat, breaking away his thoughts of a life he knew that he couldn’t really have. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Thought I lost you for a moment, there,” you say. Miguel sees you moving around in your living room and settles to sit in the middle of your sofa. You cross your legs in a lotus position and he couldn’t help but watch you, feeling himself strained to stop the smile from forming. But he couldn’t help it, not when you look so carefree and safe.

“Anyways, are you free to swing by? I made an extra batch of food to share.” You said. “Feel like I cooked a bit too much this time.”

“Not this time I’m afraid.” Miguel says. “Work’s getting intense.”

“That’s a shame,” you tell him. “Well, I don’t know where you are but that doesn’t mean you can’t escape from me telling you off. And to remind you to look after yourself.” He sees you stuff a spoonful of food into your mouth. He gives you a moment to eat but still manages to talk to him. “Or else who am I going to ramble someone’s ear off but yours?”

You are what he is protecting, and he’ll do anything to make sure the world you’re in is safe.

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