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lovinkiri · 3 years

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If The Roles Were Reversed || One

UA!Dabi x Reader

UA!Shigaraki x Reader

UA!Toga x Reader

UA!Twice x Reader

UA!Compress x Reader

Author's Thoughts: Okay so I was just thinking, what if the LOV were seniors in UA, and emotionally stable enough to not be villains, and ekvekbd

Warning: Swearing, Scratching, etc.

EVERYONE IS 18+

Touya Todoroki (Dabi)

People couldn't help but stare at the two of you. You knew it was because of your boyfriend though, who was used to the stares by now.

"What happened to him?"

"They really let guys like that in the hero course? Look at the scarred face."

"The whole course looks like a group of villians, I'm not surprised."

You went to speak out. I mean, it wasn't his fault his quirk was self destructive. Though he was taking courses in Quirk Control, the scars he'd gotten before enrolling in UA stuck.

But before you could utter a word, Dabi sighed and wrapped an arm around you, giving the gossips a look that could scare a pro.

"Don't worry about it, babe. It's alright. I just wish they'd say it to my ugly scarred face." He spoke loudly and sarcastically, raising his voice even more towards the end.

You huff and glare at the already scared freshmen. "I just wish they'd take a look in the mirror themselves."

And now they were scared and offended.

You look back to Dabi and sigh. "You know you're sexy, right Touya?" You raise an eyebrow, Dabi snickering at how serious the question was asked.

"Can't look that bad if I've got such a cute little thing on my arm." He smirked, watching as you immediately got flustered.

"Y-Yeah, c'mon." You pull him to class, Dabi chuckling.

Upon entering the classroom, he immediately looked to Shigaraki. "Hey, Crusty."

Shigaraki glared at the Dabi. "Morning, Crispy."

With Shigaraki, you let it slide. You knew this was their way of being friendly to each other. Then Toga came bounding over, hugging you from behind.

"Hi, Touya! Morning, Y/n!" She grinned. Dabi scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It's Dabi."

"You let Y/n call you Touya!"

"Are you Y/n?"

"No.."

"Okay then, Crazy."

"Crazy?!"

You laugh and smile. It was never boring, being with Dabi.

Tomura Shigaraki

"Tomura!"

He sighed and looked at you, drowning out the rest of the hero course. You walked over with your lunch and plopped down next to him, slapping his hand away from his neck. "You're scratching again. I know it's a bad habit but-"

Tomura rose an eyebrow, wondering what caused your silence. Then he followed your gaze to his hands.

Before he could speak, you broke out into a grin. "You got your new gloves! Now we can hold hands!"

Sighing once more, he shrugged. "I don't get why its such a big deal. You were more excited than I was."

He was lying. He was secretly just as excited. The thought of holding your hands, running his fingers through your hair, holding you without having to be careful of his fingers. He couldn't wait.

You kissed his cheek and laid your head against his shoulder. "Can we hold hands later?" You asked looking up at him with irresistible eyes.

"You don't have to ask, you know." He grumbled as he wrapped an arm around you. The rest of the hero course let out either genuine or sarcastic awww's.

"Its not fair. How did Shigaraki start dating before any of us?" Toga asked with a pout. Dabi snorted in laughter. "They like 'em crusty and flaky."

Tomura glared at him. "Better crusty than charred and burnt." He retaliated.

Dabi gave a lazy grin. "Oi, I'm not burnt. I'm crispy."

The entire table, not including Tomura, devolved into laughter. Tomura rolled his eyes, laying his cheek against the top of your head. "Idiots. They're all idiots."

You smiled. "Please. You love 'em."

"Tch. Whatever." He huffed.

Himiko Toga

You waited by the school gates patiently for Himiko. You knew she was probably getting some new upgrades to her hero costume, so you didn't mind.

"Y/n, Y/n!"

You turned and Himiko jumped into your arms. Thankfully, you were able to wrap your arms around her and steady yourself. This wasn't the first time so you had practice.

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around your neck. "Hey, your reflexes are getting better!" She pointed out.

You smiled and chuckled in at the remark. "Thank to you. You seem more excited than usual."

"Oh yeah! I got this awesome new upgrade." She said proudly. Pulling away from the embrace and instead holding your hand, she started to pull you along.

"Yeah? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head. Himiko proceeded to go into a detailed ramble about her upgrade, her free hand making exaggerated motions.

You couldn't help but admire how her eyes seemed got so much brighter. It was obvious she was excited to test it out.

Others who weren't used to seeing you guys around stared, but minded their business as you glared at them. You weren't gonna let anyone bring her down. Knowing people already whispered about how odd she seemed in the school hallways, you'd decided she didn't need to hear that outside of school too.

"And so it'll be easier to shift between forms!" She finished, looking at you, looking for your approval.

Kissing her cheek, you chuckled. "That sounds amazing. And it was your idea?" You grinned as she enthusiastically nodded. "Yeah! Of course, you inspired me! Remember last week when you said it'd been cool if I could switch between forms more freely?"

Your expression morphed into confusion. "Huh? That was a month ago."

She shrugged. "A week, a month, a year! It's all the same!"

Laughing softly, you nodded. "Sure, Himiko."

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

Jin smiled as you pulled his mask on, trying to nuzzle into your hands.

"Jin- I can't get it on when you do that." You chuckled, a smile tugging at your own lips. "I don't see why you couldn't put your own mask you."

"Because I like it when you're near me! Stop asking questions." He responded, pulling you closer by your lower back.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you quickly pecked his lips before fully getting the mask on. "You a sweetheart, you know that?"

He nodded. "I know!" Then quickly shook his head. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Right. Well, be careful at training today. I think they're gonna make you fight Dabi." You warned. You knew Jin was strong but Dabi was something else. Losing usually made him fight harder. And sometimes, he lost himself.

"Oh please, that's nothing. Nothing but a death wish! He's still pissed at me for spilling juice on him at lunch today!" Your boyfriend began pacing, holding his head dramatically.

His head whipped to you as you started laughing. "Why are you laughing? Last time we sparred, I had to sleep with an ice pack on my ass! For a week! And he was sleepy!" He pressed, mocking betrayal once your laughter continued.

"I-I'm sorry, Jin! I'm just remembering that pillow you had yo sit on in class. You know, as to know irritate the burns on your butt." You covered your mouth to stifle anymore sounds of amusement.

Jin whined at the memory, placing his hand on his ass. "It's not funny, babe!"

You grinned and cleared your throat, taking a breathe. "Alright, alright. But you were just distracted that day. And the voices are a lot easier to ignore when your mask comes off in combat now, aren't they?"

Walking over, you gently placed your hand on his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch, almost cat like. "It's so much easier to focus now. But it can be kinda difficult with you lookin so damn good while watching me!"

Jin leaned down, attempting to kiss you from under his a mask. You laughed and tried pulling away, hands on his chest. "J-Jin!"

"Oi, are you done yet? It's our turn Jin!"

Gulping nervously, Jin lifted his mask a bit to give you an actual kiss. You returned it, humming softly then pulled away. He shrugged. "In case I die."

Then there was an burst of heat. "Get over here, Jin!"

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

Atsuhiro smirked at the villian before him, twirling his cane ever so casually. "Tsk, tsk. You've got a flashy quirk, but there's no flare."

What was supposed to be a training retreat turned into a surprise attack. These villians never knew when to give up.

He quickly dodged another attack and gave a mocking hum, as if he were thinking. "Oh I know!" He hit his fist against his palm. "You're missing the element of surprise! You're completely predictable!"

Laughing as the villian the got angry, he shrugged. "Unlike me!" He dodged once more before shooting out a marble that you'd been compressed in for a while.

Once free, you launched an attack to the villiain. "Surprise!" You grinned as you foot connected into the villian's back, the impact sending him tumbling into a tree.

Atsuhiro caught you in his arms and you spread yours out. "I see, you haven't met my lovely assistant, have you?" Sitting youdown, the two of you prepared for another attack.

"Delaware Smash!" The villain cried out, running to the both of you, dodging Atsuhiro's efforts at compressing him.

You managed to dodge, but Atsuhiro wasn't so lucky, taking blow after blow before colliding into a tree.

"Hiro!" You yelled out, running towards him. It was when you held a hand out that you halted. "Now, now, Dear, worry not. It is not who's in trouble."

The villain's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That's when you noticed a marble rolling from compresses hand. It would seem the villain noticed to but it was too late.

Before anyone could react, Spinner was there dishing out attacks. Atsuhiro stood, leaning against the tree. Running over, you helped him to balance himself.

"You had Spinner this whole time?" You asked in surprise, eyes wide. He chuckled softly and gave a small bow. "As I said, the element of surprise is very important."

"Boss! The heroes are here!"

The villain glared at us, dodging Spinner and jumping from place to place. "This isn't over." He mumbled before bounding off.

Spinner went to go after him, but Atsuhiro had his cane in front of him in a second. "Let them be."

Spinner opened his mouth to protest but sighed and nodded.

You guys soon grouped up with the rest of the class, only to see Toga on the verge of tears.

"Himiko, what's wrong?" Spinner asked, you guys rushing over. Holding back a sob, she looked up.

"They kidnapped Shigaraki!"

#tomura shigaraki #dabi #mr compress #bnha twice #toga himiko #touya todoroki #atsuhiro sako #jin bubaigawara #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #x reader

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troublesomeshika · 3 years

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After all this time, I'm still into you

shikamaru nara x reader word count: 2k warnings: i think there’s one swear word?

You two had grown up together. You’d been the yin to his yang, that was the joke you two always heard. You had energy for days, and he was the laziest person in the village. Although you were able to get him moving, he somehow always managed to get you to mellow out. You were the only one who could pull Shikamaru from his spot cloud watching and force him to play ninja with you. He was the only one able to talk you out of your crazy ideas. He held you back from danger, and you pushed him out of his comfort zone. It was a perfectly balanced friendship.

In your academy days, you were able to keep Shikamaru paying attention in class, even if he did sleep for most of it. He likely wouldn’t have passed without you there by his side, bouncing your leg throughout the class. And whenever you’d get too excited to focus, he was able to ground you and make you concentrate on your work. Once you were placed on separate teams, it was harder to keep up your friendship, but something drew you back time and again, and it seemed to be the same for him. He’d see you running around the village and convince you to take the rest of the day off to watch clouds with him. You’d check up on him if you hadn’t seen him around, usually finding him napping. Forcing him to spar with you was the easiest way to get him up and moving, even if he did beat you most times. He knew how you fought, and even if you knew how he fought, you weren’t really one for complicated plans of attack. You weren’t quite as bad as Naruto, but you also weren’t hard to predict. The loser always bought lunch afterwards, and more often than not, your wallet was lighter after spending the day with him. The few times you’d managed to beat him, you’d held it over his head for weeks, not letting him forget until he’d managed to beat you again in retaliation. Through the years, you maintained this dynamic. No one was quite sure how you could motivate him so well and they’d often shake their heads at your polar opposite personalities, sure that one day the differences would be too much. But he was always your lazy best friend. Then you’d gotten into a relationship with Kiba. He perfectly matched your energy and was always up for a good fight. You two were unstoppable and you’d accidentally caused damage to the village more than once. But as you got closer to Kiba, you began to drift away from Shikamaru. Sure the two of you still got together now and then to swap stories and have lunch, but you had less time to seek him out, and turned him down more and more because of dates with Kiba. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be friends, but you both had more and more demands on your time, and Shikamaru’s friendship had just...... become less of a priority in your mind. You felt confident that you’d always be best friends though, you’d been through too much together not to be.

Eventually, your relationship with Kiba ended. You both loved each other, but a good relationship needs balance, and that just wasn’t possible between you two. Luckily, you’d both realized and parted on good terms. That hadn’t made it hurt any less. And so you’d turned to your best friend. Except that, he couldn’t be there. Not in the way you needed him. You’d drifted far, and although there was still love, you just didn’t quite know each other as well as you once did. But he’d reintroduced you to Ino, and you’d quickly hit it off. It began mostly with a mutual hate of Shikamaru’s laziness, but you’d gone on to bond more and more after that. You began to regularly visit the flower shop Ino worked at to go for lunch. Walking in you called out to her, “Inooooo! You ready to go?”

“Yep! Gimme a minute to hang up my apron.” She smiled, stepping to the back room, “Mom! I’m heading out for lunch, the register is unsupervised!” You heard a voice call back, but couldn’t make out the words. “Whatever, she knows.” Ino shrugged, stepping out from behind the counter. She looped her arm through yours. “Where to?”

“I don’t know, where do you wanna go?”

“I think Choji had mentioned that he and Shikamaru were gonna try out that new barbeque place that just opened- wanna see if they’re there?”

You grinned at the thought of barbeque, “Sounds good to me, let’s go!” And with that, the two of you strolled off.

You weren’t excited to see Shikamaru, it was still awkward between you, but Ino seemed to want to hang out with her team, and who were you to stop her just because you were afraid of an awkward silence. As you walked over to the restaurant, you made small talk with Ino, telling her about the mission you’d just gotten back from. “Ugh, I can’t wait till Lady Tsunade sends us out again. I’m so tired of sitting in that flower shop everyday!” Ino groaned, rolling her eyes. “Like, I’m happy to have something to do I guess, but it gets really old really- Oh there they are!” she raised a hand, spotting the two boys sitting at a table. “Hey! Got room for two more?” she pulled you over with her. “Yeah of course, are you gonna pay?” Choji asked, grinning.

Slapping his arm, Ino sat down next to him. “Of course not, pay for your own food!” She smiled at you, nodding towards the seat across from her, next to Shikamaru. You grabbed the chair and slid it out, sitting down. “So, what’ve you guys been up to on our time off?” Ino started.

“Nothing much, I learned how to bake which has been awesome. Now I can have cake whenever I want!” Choji exclaimed, smiling. “Nice, Shikamaru?” Ino looked to the boy next to you.

“Ehh, just been laying around mostly.” Ino seemed satisfied and launched into a conversation with Choji. You chuckled and under your breath said, “Now who’s surprised at that.” You kept your eyes trained on the menu, searching for a meal you liked.

“Yeah well, at least I can relax.” you heard quietly from beside you.

Your head shot up, looking at Shikamaru. “Oh? Well, there is a difference between relaxing and becoming one with your bed you know.” You cocked an eyebrow at him. His mouth twitched, a small smirk betraying him. “Mmm you’ve got me there. One of these days you’ll run out of fuel and end up sleeping for days, and when that happens I won’t let you forget it.”

“Yeah no, sleeping for days? Sounds like a drag.” You grinned, teasing him just like you used to, this time, feeling your cheeks heat slightly.

He side-eyed you, grinning, “You and your mouth never stop moving, isn’t it troublesome to be always going?”

You opened your mouth, pretending to be offended, but before you could reply, the waiter showed up to take everyone’s orders. The rest of lunch passed in casual conversation with the table, as you avoided looking at Shikamaru. It felt good to trade insults again, but something was still different, it wouldn’t ever really be the same, and you knew you held most of the blame for that.

When lunch finished, you offered to walk Ino back to the flower shop. She agreed, and you bade Choji and Shikamaru goodbye. Turning your backs on the restaurant, Ino grinned at you. “So?” You just continued walking, “So what?”

She groaned, “You and Shikamaru! Didn’t it feel good to be just like the old days? I remember how you two always were.” She knocked her shoulder against yours. “Haha, yeah I guess....” you trailed off, staring at the feet. “I don’t know though. It’s just not the same you know? It’s different. There’s still.... distance between us.”

Ino rolled her eyes, “You know, I still wonder, how did you two even get so far?”

“Hah, I don’t. It’s my fault really,” you proceeded to spill the beans on how you’d chosen your relationship with Kiba over Shikamaru’s friendship. “And now we’re basically strangers compared to how close we used to be. I hate it but, it is what it is, there’s no going back.”

She nodded silently before asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss?”

You chuckled remembering the day. A soft blush covered your cheeks thinking of how embarrassed and nervous you’d been. Shikamaru had asked you after school, and you’d agreed to be his first kiss. You’d been hoping it meant that he felt something for you, but looking back, you knew it was just your schoolgirl crush clouding your thoughts. “Yeah, but that was just because we were both awkward kids and wanted to get it out of the way with someone we trusted, you know?” Ino scoffed. “Hey, Shikamaru was the one who had suggested it. You know he never saw me like that. And I felt that way for like, 3 months tops. Well, okay maybe more like 5 months.” Ino stopped in her tracks. You turned around, staring at her. “What’s wrong, did you forget something?”

“God you’re dumb Y/N.” She shook her head. “You really think Shikamaru just ‘wanted to get it out of the way’? I wish I lacked critical thinking, you seem so happy.”

“Hey what the hell?” Your brow furrowed. “He did!! He called first kisses “a drag” and said it was better to just be done with it!”

Ino walked over, grabbing your hands. “Sweet sweet Y/N. So much energy, so few brain cells. He liked you. For a long time. Anyone could see it!”

You shook your head, laughing, “Ino, I really don’t know what you think you saw, but we were best friends. Nothing else.” “Y/N,” She stared into your eyes, “when you started dating Kiba? He wasn’t just put out because you pulled away. He never actually said it, and he seemed to think he was hiding it,” she chuckled, “honestly I don’t know if he knew. But seeing you with Kiba, and the fact that you pulled away,” she pursed her lips, “it wasn’t a great time for him.”

You were shocked. You didn’t quite believe her about his feelings, but the idea that you’d caused him so much trouble and hurt brought tears to your eyes, which threatened to spill over. You shook your head and began walking away. “Ino, I just remembered I have some errands to run,” you raised a hand in farewell, “I’ll... see you soon.”

Your mind was going a million miles an hour, and even though you hadn’t lied, you did have errands to run, you weren’t going to get anything done. You walked, without knowing where you were going. You were lost in your thoughts, and you allowed your feet to steer you wherever they wanted to go. Finally looking up, you found yourself at a familiar clearing. Smiling sadly, you reminisced over the days you’d spent here when you were younger. Sure you were still always going, but your body had gotten better at knowing when you needed to take a break. And now, almost at a breaking point, your body had brought you back here, to the place you’d relaxed a thousand times. This time though, you laid down by yourself, feeling the grass prickling against your back. Staring up at the sky, you breathed deeply, trying to organize your thoughts. Clouds passed by quickly and the wind played with the hair around your face. “After all this time, Shikamaru?” you covered your face with your hands and groaned, “I can’t believe I’m still into you, this sucks. I was so sure it was nothing but a childhood crush, and now? Ugh.” You laid there, slowly drifting off into a nap you desperately needed. When you cracked open your eyes and sat up, the sun had disappeared and only lights twinkled in the village. You sighed, “Get it together, Y/N.” You weren’t sure if you were going to apologize, confess, or something else, but you knew you needed to see him. And so, standing up, you began your walk of shame towards the Nara compound.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

i just really enjoy listening to paramore and writing angst. honestly it’s not even that angsty imo, i was gonna make it worse but the writing gods said not to. n e ways, hope you enjoy!!

- ☆

#shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru nara #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru angst #shikamaru x you #shikamaru #shikamaru nara x (y/n)#shikamaru nara angst #nara shikamaru #nara shikamaru x reader #naruto imagines #naruto #imagine #naruto imagine #anime #reader insert #x reader

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luna-spacedoodles · 3 years

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Spoiler: Rules Were Broken

A Dream Smp x Ever After High AU

Word count: 1,599

Chapter 1 A Royal Tale

Tommy hauled his wagon full of luggage up to the school as Tubbo

walked alongside him with his hands in his pockets.

Tommy grunted to a stop, “Dude why, why can’t you like, help me? Where even is your stuff?”

“All in here, boss man.” Tubbo tipped his comically tiny top hat and Tommy heard a small quack come from inside.

“I- okay can you help me then please?” Tubbo grabbed the handle alongside him and they pulled it together all the way to their dorm.

Tommy bust open the doors and threw a suitcase on his bed quickly following it and flopping in defeat. Tubbo didn’t even make it to his bed before Tommy heard a thud behind him. He didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that until he heard Tubbo placing down his things. Tommy lifted his head to see all his furniture was already there, that was one thing he didn’t have to set up at least.

Tommy opened up his suitcase and started messily throwing the clothes inside to his right, not all of them made it on the bed. Most of them fell onto the floor or got caught on the banister.

“Oh stop dude you’re making a mess.” Tubbo told him after he got a face full of shirt.

“Shut up man, you’re wrong you’re so wrong, I’m being so neat and tidy and shit!” Tommy retaliated only to throw another shirt.

“You literally just missed the bed so far.” Tubbo let out a small laugh at the end and kicked some shorts off his hammock.

Tommy groaned and went to pick up his failed attempts, “Well don’t just sit there if you’re going to groan about it, come help me man!”

“You don’t need my help, you're just shit. Besides I already finished setting up my stuff so that just makes you look even more shit at this.”

“But that’s not fair you got here earlier than me! And it’s not even true, there’s still a whole other half of the room and you’ve just invaded into my space!”

Just as he finished the two boys heard the door open and someone step inside, they both turned to look at someone Tommy had never seen before. He was quite tall and looked funny, his skin was black and white split down the middle of his face, same with his hair but flipped around. He had wide open red and green eyes that seemed fake, like they were made of glass, open far too wide and he didn’t seem to ever blink, yet it seemed the boy was doing everything he could to avoid making eye contact with either of them. Maybe that was a good thing, they didn’t seem like eyes that’d be pleasant to stare at. He had tall horns atop his head and two tails as well, one black and the other white.

“What the fuck??” Tommy shouted raspily in confusion over the unexpected guest.

“Uhm, hi.” The boy managed to spit out as he tightened his grip on his luggage.

“I think you have the wrong room.” Tommy crossed his arms and lent against the bed, he slipped a bit trying to balance himself.

“No he’s got the right room.” Tubbo butted in, he adjusted himself to sit on the edge of the hammock so his feet dangled over the floor.

“What?” The boy and Tommy asked in unison.

“Yeah, something about a student miscalculation or whatever, not enough dorms so we all have to share.”

Tommy looked at the new guy, this wasn’t what he wanted or planned for but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

—

Tommy woke up to a sudden heavy weight on his stomach. Tommy lifted his head and rubbed his eyes to see a blond raccoon with a red handkerchief tied around its neck laid out flat on his stomach, it’s little arms and legs stretched out.

“Oh, hello!” Tommy cooed at the raccoon, giving it some scratches and pats as it chuckled and rolled around in delight. He looked out the window, it was still dark out but he could spot the sun’s light barely reaching over the horizon. Tommy wondered if it was too early to sneak out his dorm and go walk in the forest before breakfast, wasn’t much to do and he didn’t really feel like going back to sleep so taking a quick walk wouldn’t be that bad.

He got dressed and slipped on a white cloak and a small brown backpack as well. Tommy quietly snuck out the window and climbed down the vines on the side of the wall, before he could lift his head up the raccoon had already jumped and landed flat on his face.

“Clementine, I told you to wait.” Tommy groaned muffled under Clementine, she only replied with some chittering that sounded close to laughter as Tommy pulled her off his face. He looked at her and couldn’t bring himself to scold her anymore than that, how could he stay mad at that face. He let her scuttle over him and sit in the open backpack as they walked off into the forest.

On their walk they saw many different creatures and plants, they even stopped by the pond on their way back. By the time they’d gotten back into the dorm the sun was rising and Tommy’s pockets were full of small flowers, pebbles and anything else he could fit inside, even Clementine had a large hoard of berries she’d picked for her breakfast.

Before Ranboo or Tubbo had the chance to wake up Tommy and Clementine were already out the door and on their way to the castleteria, leaving the cloak and bag stuffed back inside the wardrobe. Dashing down the stairs and through the halls he skidded to a stop in front of the castleteria doors, rocking and bouncing back and forth waiting for the doors to open. A bell chimed, the doors opened and Tommy ran up to get his breakfast.

The lunch lady gave him a stack of pancakes with a side of eggs and sausage, he ran off with his tray and sped towards a lone table tucked in a corner. Despite running here full of energy he ate surprisingly slow, Clementine stuffed her face into her berry pile next to him. Students soon flooded into the castleteria including Tubbo and their new roommate, they walked up the stairs to his table and sat down with him.

“Hey Tommy!” Tubbo set down his tray and immediately started eating.

“Hi Tubbo,” Tommy looked up from his food and started at Ranboo, “…Hi Ranboo…”

“Hi.” The boy replied awkwardly, he didn’t seem like he wanted to make any conversation but Tommy didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

Clementine stopped her feasting and hissed in at Ranboo, running onto Tommy’s back and peaking at the stranger over his shoulder. Or maybe it was the gross looking fish soup she was eyeing, Ranboo slid the small bowl over as an offering and Clementine jumped for it, adding it to her stash. Tommy made a funny look at the soup before he went back to his own breakfast.

“ATTENTION STUDENTS!” The castleteria fell silent as everyone turned to look at Headmaster Grimm standing on the balcony, “As Legacy Day is coming very soon, today we’ll be practicing for it! During one of your classes you’ll be led out to practice pledging to follow your destiny and signing the Storybook of Legends! Thank you for your time, please continue your breakfast.”

—

Tommy walked out with the rest of the class to the stage, the place was white and regal, two large staircases either side of the stage and a pedestal at the front. They all lined up in alphabetical order of their last name and took turns practicing.

“Next!” Grimm called Ranboo up. Tommy watched him take the key and walk up to the pedestal.

“Uhm. I, Ranboo Queen, pledge to follow my destiny to be the next Evil… Queen? King?” Ranboo turned to look at Grimm, “Did I do that right?”

“It’s uh, it’ll do.” Grimm replied, taking back the key.

Tommy zoned out for a bit — That was Ranboo Queen? That’s the guy that was gonna poison him? He’d heard lots of mean things about how his destiny goes. He stared at the ground reconsidering how he felt about this guy.

“Next!” Grimm yelled, Tommy looked up and realized he was calling him up. He walked up to him and silently took the key.

“I! Uhm..” Tommy turned around to Grimm, “I have a question?”

“Yes?” Grimm sighed.

“It’s just, what if I don’t want to follow my destiny? Like, what if I want to do my own thing?” Everyone gasped loudly, Grimm looked shocked and angry, he strode over to him and Tommy backed up against the pedestal.

“Now listen here, if you don’t sign that book, your story will go poof. You will go poof.” Grimm stepped back and Tommy inhaled deeply only now realizing he’d been holding his breath, “Now I recommend we move on and continue.”

Tommy turned around and looked out on the crowd, everyone was staring at him judgingly, he looked down at the key in his hand. He threw it harshly onto the ground and started running as fast as he could from there, Clementine jumped off a chair she’d been watching from and scampered after him. Tommy grabbed his cloak from the dorm and ran into a place he knew no one would find him.

#luna.writing #dream smp au #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #luna.au #eah au #food mention #tw food #v excited 2 post this :]#haven’t ever posted a chapter fic b4 so this’ll b interesting #my only experience posting fics(n just writing them in general) was that wilbur revival one-shot from back in janurary #it was alr but I rlly like this #please lmk what u thought of it!

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marvelous-writer · 3 years

Text

i'll be there when you feel lost and alone

Summary: Peter gets seriously hurt on patrol when he’s all alone, mourning the loss of Tony.

Word Count: 6,823

Genre: whump, hurt/comfort, fluff

Link to read on ao3:

A/N: Part 2 of Whumptober 2021 @whumptober2021

Gunshots echo through the chilly midnight air as Peter runs along the side of the wet brick wall in the alley, dodging the bullets. He pushes off the wall and performs a backflip with practiced ease, aiming at one of the armed muggers and shoots an impact web at him, sending him flying backwards, successfully webbing him against the wall. There are at least ten or so men Peter’s trying to fight off all at once and it’s getting a little tiring, if he’s being honest.

“Nice shot, Peter.” Karen says as Peter lands in a low crouch.

“Thanks, Karen!” Peter shoots back as he jumps back up again, dodging a knife one of the muggers swipes at him.

“Who’s Karen?” One of the muggers calls out in confusion.

“The hell I should know just get him or the boss won’t be happy!” Another mugger yells back.

The bad guys come at him all at once and one of them jumps at Peter with an aimed fist, his hand covered in thick gold rings, which Peter easily dodges. “ You’re coming at me like that? Really, dude? How rude! Wait your turn!” Petre scolds jokingly as he ducks, dodging the next punch the guy throws his way, only for Peter to swipe his legs out from under him. “Petty thieves just don’t have any manners these days.” Peter adds as he webs the guy up to the ground.

Before Peter can get a second to catch his breath, two more men are on him, one armed with a crowbar and the other with a handgun. Peter resists the urge to groan. They’ve been at this for twenty-five minutes now since Peter jumped in and crashed whatever illegal dealing that was going on, and these guys haven’t let up. With each goon he takes down, it feels like two more take their place.

And to make matters worse, Peter is starting to feel pretty dizzy right now with how exhausted and hungry he is. That’s what happens when he doesn’t get more than eight hours of sleep in a week and barely eating, especially with his enhanced metabolism. But he’s trying to ignore the dizziness and the gnawing in his stomach for now.

Fight bad guys now, eat and pass out later.

Peter’s spider-sense tingles in warning at the back of his head as the goon with the crowbar comes at him swinging, while another guy appears out of nowhere and manages to land a hard punch to Peter’s jaw, causing him to stumble. Peter slams into the alley wall, barely managing to duck as the crowbar slams against the wall where his face just was.

“Whoah, man! Watch where you swing that thing!” Peter says as he shoots a web at the crowbar and yanks it away from the guy, causing him to lose his balance. Peter shoots a web at his face, blinding him, and swipes his legs out from underneath him, webbing him to the ground next to the other goons.

Another fist meets Peter’s face, causing him to stumble, but before he can react, something hard slams against the side of his head.

A sharp pain explodes through Peter’s head and down his neck as his vision whites out. He feels himself fall against the brick wall behind him, desperately trying to get his bearings back before another one of these guys gets the upper hand. Peter blinks rapidly behind his mask to clear his vision, only to catch a glimpse of the goon with the handgun aiming it at him as the guy that picked up the crowbar comes at him again.

Multiple gunshots fill the air once again, and one might miss them against the loud rumble of thunder, against the steady rainfall.

Pain explodes in Peter’s left leg near his thigh and in his right shoulder. He squeezes his eyes shut, barely registering himself falling against the wall from the force of the bullets hitting him, crumbling to the alley floor, feeling his head collide against the wall on his way down.

“Dude—you shot him! You shot Spider-Man!” Crowbar dude exclaims in surprise.

“Who cares! Let’s just get out of here before he gets back up!” The gunman yells over his shoulder as the two of them start to run towards the alleyway entrance.

Peter groans weakly in defeat on the cold, wet ground.

“Peter it appears that you have been shot several times and you sustained a bad blow to your head. Medical attention is highly advised.” Karen informs him in a worried tone.

He manages to turn his head in the small puddle he landed in, seeing that the muggers, except for the ones webbed up, got away.

“C-Crap…” Peter mumbles to himself, guilt gnawing away at him for letting them escape. Now they were free to continue terrorizing other people, all thanks to him.

Peter grits his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut against the agonizing pain coursing through his entire body, feeling a few warm tears slide down his cheeks beneath his mask. This is so not how he thought this night was going to go, yet here he is, beaten up and shot, laying in a filthy alley in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone.

He just needs a minute… and then he’ll get up.

Peter lays there for a few moments, until he hears sirens in the distance, feeling the rain soaking through his suit.

“Local law enforcement is incoming. ETA one minute. Peter, you need to get up and seek medical attention.”

Peter groans against the ground as he slowly blinks his eyes open, finding everything to be a bit blurry. “O-Okay…” he whispers as he slowly starts to sit up, letting out a choked gasp when the movement sends white, hot pain through his already pounding head.

When he’s able to sit up, Peter leans against the brick wall for a second, gasping in pain as he clutches his shoulder, feeling a warmness dribbling between his gloved fingers. He wants more than anything to just stop moving and close his eyes but he knows that he can’t. The police have been wanting to arrest him for years now since he started this gig. He can’t be seen at the scene of a crime… or a gang take-down. Whatever.

Peter grits his teeth as he braces his good hand against the ground and slowly starts to stand up, fighting through the pain. When he’s finally standing, he has to lean against the wall for support.

“Peter the police are almost here. You need to leave now.” Karen tells him in a serious tone.

Peter looks up and he can see the flashing blue and red lights from here. He doesn’t have much time to escape—a few seconds at most. He braces a hand against the side of the building with his bad arm, hissing through gritted teeth at the pain the movement brings as he starts to slowly climb up the side of the building, pausing a few times as pain tears through his injured shoulder and leg.

When he finally reaches the top, Peter grips the building ledge and pulls himself up with a pained groan. He rolls over the ledge and lands on the gravel-covered roof on his back, facing the dark cloudy sky above. Raindrops land on the lenses of his mask as he lays there in agony, his soaking wet suit sticking to him uncomfortably.

But Peter doesn’t care.

He messed up big time tonight.

He was sloppy and he let the muggers get the upper hand on him.

This is all because he can’t get a handle on his life. He can’t sleep anymore from either the nightmares or his worsening insomnia. He just… can’t… move on.

Not without Tony.

Peter closes his eyes at the thought of him. It’s been four months now since Tony’s funeral… four months since he’s been… gone. It’s been the worst four months of Peter’s entire life.

“Peter, your vitals are dropping dangerously low. Per the tattletale protocol, I’m required to call an emergency contact.”

“There’s no one you can call, Karen. Tony’s...” He closes his eyes as he breathes a sigh out through his nose. “Tony’s dead.”

Saying out loud only makes it worse—more real.

Karen remains silent as Peter lays there, blinking up at the sky. For a moment, Peter lets himself pretend that Tony is still alive. It’s sick and unfair to himself, but he doesn’t care. He waits for a few moments, for that phone call to come in, to hear Tony’s worried voice on the other end as he chews Peter out for being so reckless and getting himself hurt. Tony always calls him because he has every alert and protocol known to mankind set for these kinds of situations Peter gets himself into.

He also waits to hear the familiar sound of the Iron Man suit, of Tony, swooping in to save him from bleeding out on this rooftop.

But neither come.

The only thing Peter hears is the rain pelting down and his heavy breathing.

Tony’s not coming… and he’s never going to ever again.

A choked sob escapes from Peter’s quivering lips as the retaliation sinks in. He starts to cry there on the roof, letting his grief swallow him up. It feels like forever until his crying subsides to only gasping sobs. Crying only made him even more exhausted, but Peter can’t bring himself to care right now. He just feels weirdly numb and lightheaded.

“K’ren?” Peter slurs out, his tongue feeling too thick in his mouth to form words.

“Yes, Peter?” She responds in a soft voice.

“T’ny’s… gone… right?” He asks. He’s not sure why, but maybe hearing someone else say it will make him believe it, even if it’s his suit’s AI.

Karen is silent for a few seconds. “Yes… I’m sorry, Peter.” She finally answers, sympathy in her voice as she pauses again. “Is there someone you would like me to call for you? Your vitals are continuing to drop and I don’t believe you’re able to make it home in your condition.”

“M’ all good, K,” Peter mumbles, blinking slowly up at the sky as a wave of tiredness washes over him. “Jus’ gonna… lie here… for a bit an’ take a nap.” He slurs out.

“Peter, you need to stay awake.” Karen tells him in a serious voice.

“Jus’ five minutes…” Peter slurs out as black dots dance around in his vision.

“Peter-” Karen’s concerned voice fades away as he lets his heavy eyelids slip shut when his vision completely blacks out, feeling darkness invade his mind, pulling him further and further down.

He doesn’t even feel the raindrops falling on him anymore.

He doesn’t feel cold either.

“Calling Happy Hogan.” Is the last thing Peter hears Karen say before he passes out, unaware of the growing pool of blood underneath him.

…

In the four months since Tony’s death, one thing Happy had told himself, the very same thing he promised Tony all those years ago, is that he would be there for Peter when he couldn’t be. Which is why a few months ago, he took it upon himself to set the kid’s AI up on all of his tech devices at home and on his phone to get any updates from the kid’s suit, with FRIDAY’s help since technology is a little (very) out of his realm.

The only problem is that Peter hasn’t really had any contact with him in the four months since the funeral.

And Happy understands why. Tony’s death didn’t just affect him. It’s affected the entire world, especially Peter. Tony and Peter had such a special bond that wasn’t quite like the normal mentor and mentee relationship. What they had… it was like a bond between a father and son.

Tony absolutely loved that kid, equally as much as he loved Morgan. From the day Morgan was born, Tony would tell her stories about Peter and she grew up believing that Peter was her long-lost brother. And it’s true. In the rare times Peter has visited the Stark cabin, Happy has seen for himself that Peter and Morgan are like mini versions of Tony. Peter might not be Tony’s biological kid… but he sure could fool Happy if he didn’t know.

It’s close to one in the morning and Happy finds himself wide awake, mindlessly channel surfing in his dimly lit living room. He’s debating between watching the Discovery Channel or a cheesy rom-com on the Hallmark Channel to get himself tired when his phone dings with a message. He blindly reaches over to the couch cushion beside him and picks it up and looks at the screen, only for his stomach to drop when he sees it’s a notification from Peter’s AI, Karen.

Multiple GSWs detected.

Vitals dropping.

Emergency medical attention is recommended.

Happy’s eyes widen in shock as he feels cold dread flow through him. He leaps up from the couch and grabs his keys, shoving his bare feet in his sneakers before he’s out the door, running for the elevator that leads to his apartment building garage.

…

It’s a blessing that the tracker in Peter’s suit reads that he’s only a few blocks away. He can only hope that he makes it in time.

“FRIDAY, have Dr. Cho set up whatever she needs to for Peter when I get him to the Compound.” Happy orders.

“Right away.” FRIDAY voice flows through the speakers of his car.

Happy silently thanks Tony for installing the AI into his car all those years ago. Back then he thought it was stupid and unnecessary, but it’s definitely coming in handy right now. It’s one of the best gifts he’s ever gotten. He glances at the map on the touchscreen tablet installed onto his car’s dashboard, seeing that the bright red dot is still in the same location from when he first started driving, meaning that Peter hasn’t moved.

Happy’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as he approaches Peter’s location, the building in his sight.

He slams on the brakes, skidding to a stop as he all but jumps out of the car once it’s in park and cautiously walks in the sketchy looking alleyway, eyes darting around for any sign of danger or the teen, only to find it empty but clearly the scene of a crime that the police had cleaned up sometime before his arrival. There are dents in the side of the brick buildings he can only assume are bullet holes. The sight of them tightens the knot in Happy’s stomach.

The rain has picked up considerably during his drive, only worsening the situation because Happy knows that Peter doesn’t thermoregulate well and he could get sick if he’s out in bad weather like this for too long.

“Peter?” Happy calls out, reaching a hand to the back of his sweatpants waistband under his raincoat where he stashed his handgun he grabbed from the glove box in his car in case he runs into any trouble. “Kid?” he repeats louder, squinting against the rain through the darkness.

He pulls out his phone from his coat pocket with his free hand and looks at the tracker’s location, seeing that he’s now on the red dot. Peter should be here but clearly, he’s not. Happy lets out a frustrated sigh as he pockets his phone and runs a hand through his short, wet hair as he looks up to the sky, only for his eyes to settle on the rooftop above.

The sudden realization hits him like a ton of bricks. Peter must have been able to make it up to the rooftop before the police showed up. The kid isn’t stupid--he knows the police would have taken Spider-Man in and they would have been able to easily catch him with him being injured.

Happy’s eyes quickly scan the building for a fire escape and when he finds one, he wastes no time in getting the metal ladder down by standing on a crate he found, before he’s carefully climbing up the slippery thing.

When he’s up the fire escape a minute later, he’s panting, out of breath and it’s downpouring now, forcing him to squint against the droplets hitting his face as he swings his legs over the ledge and steps onto the gravel roof.

“Peter? Kid, it’s me where are—” Happy calls out, only for his voice to get lost in his throat when his eyes land on the blue and red figure laying on the ground a few feet away from him. Happy’s eyes widen as fear shoots through him, turning his blood ice cold. “Oh my God,” he breathes out as he runs over to Peter’s all-too-still form on the ground and drops to his knees at the kid’s side. “Peter. Kid? Come on, answer me please.” Happy pleads worriedly as he carefully lifts the kid’s mask and slips it off, revealing Peter’s soaking wet, ghostly pale face, his hair sticking flat to his forehead.

Please, God let him be alive. Please. I can’t lose anyone else. Please. May can’t lose anyone else. This kid is all she has left. Please let him be alive.

Happy’s fingers instinctively go to Peter’s neck to his pulse point and he waits for a brief, terrifying second before he feels a faint thumping beneath them. Faint but there.

“Thank God,” Happy breathes out, relief flowing through him.

But they’re not out of the woods yet—not even close.

Happy scans Peter’s body, only for his eyes to land on the bullet wounds, one on his right shoulder and the other one on his left leg, both of which are sluggishly bleeding, the blood being washed away by the pouring rain. But from here, Happy can see that it’s bad.

Shit.

“Kid? Peter?” Happy calls as he gently shakes Peter’s other good shoulder, gently at first and then a little rougher, silently praying to see those baby brown eyes once again, until the teen lets out a weak, pained groan.

It takes a few seconds before Peter manages to open his eyes halfway, looking completely out of it judging by how glazed his eyes are.

“T’ny? S’ you?” Peter slurs.

Happy’s chest tightens with sadness at that. The poor kid is so out of it he probably can’t remember anything.

“No, it’s Happy—see?” He tells him gently as he leans over the kid a little more to shield him from the rain as best as he can.

It takes the kid another few seconds until Happy can see the gears working in his head as Peter looks at him with recognition. “H’py?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s me, Pete,” Happy tells him. “How’re you feeling? Tell me what hurts.” He orders gently.

“M’ head… e-everything,” Peter mumbles as he closes his eyes, brows pulled together in pain.

Happy frowns worriedly as he notices the teen is shivering. He gently shakes Peter’s uninjured shoulder again. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me. You have to stay awake.”

“Mhmm,” Peter mumbles as he slowly blinks his eyes open once again, seeming to struggle with just that. “S’ hard to.” he admits.

“I know it is, kid. Just stay with me, okay? I’m going to get you out of here.” Happy tells him as he yanks off his raincoat and drapes it over the shivering teen. “Let’s get you to the car, okay?

“M’kay,” Peter mumbles, blinking sluggishly.

Happy reaches down and carefully snakes his hands under Peter’s back and legs, taking in a deep breath before he picks him up in his arms, feeling his back protest against the added weight. Peter lets out another pained groan from being jostled.

“Sorry, Pete,” Happy says as he turns around and starts to walk back to the fire escape, which is going to be a challenge for sure.

He couldn’t go down this building’s stairs and walk inside with an injured and maskless Spider-Man in his arms. That would attract too much attention and suspicion from the residents--not to mention there could and probably are security cameras inside.

So the fire escape is their only option.

“Okay, Pete listen up,” Happy says. “I need your help here, alright? You’re going to have to walk just a little bit so we can get down this fire escape.” He says, looking down at the teen in his arms.

“But m’ tired,” Peter mumbles, words slurring slightly.

“I know you are but I need your help here. I need Spider-Man’s help, okay?”

Peter sluggishly opens his eyes as he slowly nods. “M’kay,” he mumbles.

Happy steps onto the fire escape and carefully sets Peter down on his feet, keeping an arm on the teen’s shoulder to keep him standing when Peter’s face scrunches up in pain. He helps Peter put his arms through the raincoat so he has better access to his hands.

“I’ll go first and I’ll help you down, okay?” Happy says as he takes a few steps down the ladder. “You’ve got this, Pete.”

Peter slowly nods as he grips both sides of the metal railing for balance. They slowly start their way down and Happy keeps an arm out in case Peter slips. They make it one flight when Peter’s injured leg suddenly gives out, causing the kid to let out a choked gasp in pain as he grips the railing in front of him tight enough to dent it.

Happy is quick to brace a hand on his lower back, catching him. “It’s okay—It’s okay. You’re okay. Just take a minute to catch your breath, okay?” he reassures.

Peter’s shaking from the effort of holding himself up. “S-Sorry,” he says as he lets out a pained groan, leaning forward as he leans his forehead against the rail in front of him.

“You okay?” Happy asks, brows pulling together in concern.

“Y-Yeah… jus’ dizzy.”

That definitely isn’t good. Happy looks over his shoulder, seeing that they only have one more flight to go. He looks back up at the teen above him. “We’re almost at the bottom. Just hang on for a few more minutes. Do you think you can do that, Pete?”

“I-I’ll t-try.” Peter says with a small nod.

“Okay,” Happy says unsurely as he takes his hand away from the teen’s back as he takes a step down, ready to catch him again if need be.

When they’re finally down the fire escape, Happy helps Peter down by wrapping his arms around the teen and easing him to the ground, mindful of his injured leg. Peter sways where he stands, clearly absolutely exhausted from their trip down the stairs, as Happy wraps the teen’s uninjured arm over his shoulders and wraps an arm around the kid’s back, leading him towards the car up ahead, the headlights standing out against the darkness.

Happy opens the backseat passenger door up and helps Peter lie down in the back before he runs to the trunk and grabs spare blankets he’d stashed away for a time like this. He runs back to the backseat and gently places one of the blankets underneath Peter’s head for a pillow, while he covers him up with the other one.

Happy eyes the kid worriedly as he reaches down and carefully wipes away a few stray rain droplets from Peter’s forehead. “Just hang in there, Pete, okay?”

Peter shakily nods in response into the blanket pillow without looking up.

Crawling out of the backseat, Happy shuts the passenger door and jumps in the driver’s seat before he pulls away from the alley and all but floors it, mindful of the precious and very injured cargo in his backseat. He throws the heat on full blast in the front and back, as well as the second-row heated seats.

Adjusting the rear view mirror, Happy can see Peter’s pain-filled face, adding to the guilt and worry flowing through him. Judging by those dark circles under his eyes, Peter hasn’t been sleeping these past few days. He knows the kid well enough by now to know that he’s going through a hard time and he’s not telling anyone about it. No one should ever have to grieve alone.

And Happy knows this isn’t the first time Peter has lost someone in his life. First it was his parents, then his uncle, and now… Tony.

Life has been very unfair to Peter. But one thing’s for sure… he shouldn’t have to do it all alone. The kid has a big guilt complex and he never wants to burden anyone with his problems—he just wants to help people with their own problems.

But even heroes need help sometimes.

That is if the people around them care to be invested enough in their lives to see that they’re struggling. Which… Happy knows he hasn’t been doing a very good job of that these past few months.

I should have been keeping a closer eye on him.

Happy adjusts his grip on the steering wheel as guilt sits heavily in his stomach. From now on… he’s going to do better. He’s going to start weekly, no—daily check-ins on the kid to make sure he’s doing okay, and maybe they can even set up a weekly meet-up for lunch. Heck, Happy is even willing to pick him up from school every day.

But for tonight… Happy just needs to keep Peter alive, who’s currently bleeding out in the backseat of his car.

“FRIDAY, what’s the quickest way back to the Compound?” Happy asks.

“Routing course,” The AI responds before the route pops up on the navigation system. “ETA one hour.”

An hour is too much time. Happy glances back in the rearview mirror at Peter, who’s now passed out, still shivering away under the blankets covering him.

Happy looks back at the road determinedly. “Let’s make it thirty minutes.”

…

The ride upstate is a blur as Happy drives as fast as he can, cutting a few red lights along his way out of the city. During those long and tense thirty minutes, Peter half-wakes up a couple of times, dazed and confused out of his mind.

“T’ny?”

“No, Pete it’s Happy,” he tells him, adjusting his rearview mirror again to get a better look at the kid, who’s trying to slowly sit up. “Don’t move, Pete okay? You’re hurt. You were in a fight. Do you remember anything?”

Peter stays down, blinking sluggishly, silent for a moment as his brows pull together in confusion. “Are we fly’ng?” he slurs.

Happy looks back to the highway ahead, which is thankfully sparse of other cars, given that it’s now close to two in the morning. “With how fast we’re going, pretty much,” He answers as he looks back at the kid. “How’re you holding up?”

Peter blinks again as he stares up at the ceiling. “N’ suddenly m’ flying… flying like a bird… like ‘lectricity…” Peter mumbles as his eyes droop.

Happy’s brows pull together in concern. “What? Pete—you’re what?”

The corner of Peter’s mouth turns up into a dopey smile. “We’re soaring… flying… there’s not a s-star tha’ we cn’t reach…” he slurs out as he closes his eyes.

Well, shit.

That’s either the blood loss or the head injury talking.

“Sure, Pete,” Happy says worriedly as he glances at the navigation system, seeing that they’re ten miles away from the Compound. “FRIDAY, is Dr. Cho ready for him?”

“Dr. Cho and her team are prepared and awaiting your arrival.”

“Good. Thanks, FRI.” Happy says as he lets out a sigh.

“Of course.”

By the time they finally reach the Compound, Peter is out cold once again in the backseat as Happy carefully skids the car to a stop right outside of the front doors. He jumps out of the front seat and is about to open up the back door to help Peter out when Dr. Cho and her team walk out through the double doors, wheeling a stretcher.

Happy carefully picks Peter up, still wrapped up in his raincoat and blanket as he lowers him on the stretcher and before he knows it, the medical team is quickly wheeling him inside. Happy rushes ahead with them, keeping his eyes on Peter’s pale face until Dr. Cho stops him as they take Peter away through another set of double doors.

“We’ll take it from here, Happy,” She rushes out gently. “Thank you for getting him here so quickly.”

“Take care of him.” Happy says, coming out more like a plea than anything else.

“He’s in the best hands, I promise you.” She says before she disappears through the double doors, leaving Happy standing there alone.

He stares at the doors for a long few moments as guilt and worry flow through him.

When he turns away from the doors, Happy lets out a sigh as he walks over to the waiting area and takes a seat, rubbing his face tiredly. It’s been a long night and it’s far from over.

One thing he has to do is call May and fill her in on what’s going on.

And that’s going to be a hard phone call.

Happy lets out another sigh as he pulls his phone out from his sweatpants pocket, scrolling through his contacts until he finds May’s number. He taps the call button and puts the phone up to his ear, waiting for several moments until she answers.

“Hey. It’s me… are you sitting down?”

…

“Kiddo... I think it's time you wake up.” A familiar voice says.

Peter blinks open his eyes, only to find himself laying on a bed in a room he recognizes to be the guest bedroom at the Stark cabin. He frowns, not remembering how he got here.

“There he is.” The voice says.

Peter turns his head to the side, only for his eyes to widen in shock. Tony is sitting in a chair beside him, softly smiling at him.

“T-Tony?” Peter asks in disbelief.

“Hey, kiddo. Long time no see,” Tony greets. “How’re you feeling?”

Peter just blinks at him for several seconds, still not believing what he’s seeing as he slowly sits up. “Uh… l-like I’m seeing-”

“A ghost?” Tony asks with a grin before he breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. “No. I’m not a ghost.”

“What—how are you here?” Peter asks, his eyes widening further. “Am I dead?”

“No,” Tony quickly answers, shaking his head again. “You’re not dead. You almost were though if it wasn’t for Happy.” He says. “I’ve been gone for what, a couple of months and everything’s going off the rails, huh?”

The joke only causes a stab of grief in Peter’s chest. Peter looks down and fiddles with the blanket on his lap as he swallows around the growing lump in his throat as his eyes begin to water. “It’s… It’s been really... hard… without you.”

He hears movement at his side as Tony stands up and takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to Peter’s hip. “I know… I’m sorry.” Tony softly says as he reaches a hand out and places it on Peter’s shoulder, the gesture so familiar and comforting, it hurts.

Peter closes his eyes and feels a few stray tears slide down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” Tony softly says as Peter feels a calloused hand on the side of his face, his tears being wiped away by Tony’s thumb.

Peter opens his eyes, seeing that Tony is looking at him with sad eyes, surprised to see his eyes are a little watery as well.

“W-Why did you have to s-snap?” Peter asks him, letting out the question that’s been plaguing his mind since the moment Tony died.

Tony looks down with a small sigh. “Because… I had to.”

“N-No you didn’t.” Peter says, shaking his head, dropping Tony’s hand in the process.

“Yes… it did. I couldn’t have put that on anyone, Pete,” Tony gently says, looking into Peter’s eyes as he cups the teen’s face with his hand. “I had to do it. It had to be me.”

Peter shakes his head, blinking past the tears in his eyes as they continue to stream down his cheeks. “N-No it didn’t. Y-You j-just left us! P-Pepper, M-Morgan, H-Happy, a-and m-me. A-And I...I don’t k-know what to d-do without you.” He sobs out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh, Pete…” Tony says, feeling the man gently pull him forward against his chest. “I’m… I’m so sorry, kiddo.”

Peter breaks down and cries against Tony’s chest, fisting Tony’s green sweater in his hands as he sobs. He remembers being in this situation quite a few times before, being soothed by Tony’s soft voice after a crying session. Peter doesn’t really know how this is happening, or why… but he’s not complaining. He’s always said that he’d give anything just to be with Tony one more time… and maybe this is it.

The thought has Peter crying harder, clinging to his mentor more. He can’t say goodbye. He just can’t.

“Shhh… it’s okay,” Tony murmurs softly, his voice rumbling against his chest. “You’re okay… I’ve got you, Pete.”

It feels like forever until Peter runs out of tears, leaving him wetly sniffing against Tony’s chest as the man gently rocks him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Peter keeps his eyes closed, praying for this moment to never end.

“I’m so sorry, Pete. I didn’t want to go… I had no choice. It was me versus millions of people. Thanos would never have stopped his mission. I want you and Morgan to be safe and be able to grow up and have lives of your own. Do you understand?” Tony gently asks.

Peter sniffs, nodding against his chest.

Tony sighs softly as he wraps his arms around Peter in a hug. “I hate that I can’t be with you guys. And I know it’s been hard on you lately. And as cheesy as this sounds, just remember—I’m always with you. Okay? And I want you to know how damn proud I am of you, Pete. I always have been and I always will be. You, Morgan, and Pepper are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

They stay like that for a while, until the moment is shattered when Peter hears voices in the distance. He frowns against Tony’s chest as Tony lets out a small sigh.

“I’m sorry, kiddo… but it’s time to go.”

Fear shoots through Peter as he pulls away, looking up at him. “W-What? But I don’t want to go.”

Tony smiles sadly as he cups Peter’s face. “I know… but you have to, bud. They’re waiting for you. They need you, Spider-Man.”

“But,” Peter pauses, his brain racing. He has so many things to say—so many questions. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know, Pete and I don’t want you to go, believe me. But I promise you, we’ll see each other again one day, okay?”

Peter’s eyes fill with tears once again as Tony pulls him in for another hug.

“I love you, Peter.” Tony tells him, feeling him press a kiss to the side of his head.

“I-I love you too.”

…

“I think he’s waking up now.”

“Peter, honey? Can you hear me?”

Peter lets out a small groan in response, feeling his body start to slowly come back to him but he still feels weirdly floaty and numb. He struggles to open his heavy eyelids until he manages to blink them open slowly, meeting blurriness. He blinks a few times to clear his vision, only to find himself lying on a bed in a room he recognizes to be the medbay.

This scene feels all too familiar.

“There he is.” a soft, familiar voice says to his right.

Peter manages to roll his bowling ball of a head to the side, expecting to see Tony sitting beside him once again… but he doesn’t. He sees both May and Happy sitting in chairs beside his hospital bed, May is smiling at him, gently squeezing his hand in her own.

It all comes back to him.

Tony’s dead.

It was just a dream.

Peter’s face drops as he feels his eyes warm up as tears start to pool in them. Grief and sadness flow through him all at once, overwhelmingly so.

“What’s wrong, baby?” May asks with a worried frown.

Peter sniffs wetly as he closes his eyes. “I-I thought-” He starts to say, only for a sob to escape from his lips. “I-I thought T-Tony was here.”

“Oh, honey,” May says as he feels her fingers gently card through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“N-No,” Peter says as he shakes his head, wincing as it brings a sharp spike of pain from the movement. “I-I was with him. H-He was there.”

May turns to Happy and they both share a knowing look before they both look at him again.

“Peter…” Happy says, seeming to struggle for words for a few seconds until he closes his eyes for a brief second, meeting his eyes. “When Dr. Cho was working on you… you lost a lot of blood. Your… heart… stopped beating for two minutes.”

Peter stares at him for a few long seconds before he looks away at the wall across the room, processing the information. He’s taken out of his thoughts by May grabbing his hand again, feeling her gently squeeze.

“You okay? I know that’s a lot to take in.”

Peter licks his lips and slowly nods. “Yeah…” he says, blinking a few times. “Do you think that I… was actually with Tony?”

May smiles softly, her eyes tearing up. “You might have been from the sounds of it.”

“He was keeping you safe and helped you come home.” Happy adds in with a sad, knowing smile of his own.

Peter nods with a small, watery smile. “He did.”

“Thank God you’re okay,” May says as she stands up and carefully hugs him, wetly sniffing.

“I’m sorry.” Peter mumbles into her shoulder as he closes his eyes, weakly lifting an arm up to hug her.

She pulls back and sits on the edge of the bed, shaking her head to herself. “I don’t even want to think… if Happy hadn’t gotten you here as quickly as he did. If you really...”

Happy reaches over and takes her hand in his, offering her a reassuring smile. “He’s okay, May. It was a very close call,” he gives Peter a serious look before looking back at her. “But he’s going to be more careful next time and I’m going to make sure he wears the Iron Spider suit from now on.”

May nods in agreement, as she looks at Peter. “Yes. And we’re going to make sure you get your proper sleep. No more skipping curfew.”

“And you call when you’re going to be late.” Happy adds.

“Yes,” May agrees, looking back at him, smiling. “We make a great team.”

“We do.” Happy says with a knowing smile.

And it’s… weird.

Almost… flirty.

Peter eyes the two of them, raising a brow in confusion. “Uhh… what’s happening here?” He slowly asks.

“Umm…” Happy says, eyeing May nervously.

May breathes out a nervous laugh. “Well… we… kind of just…”

Peter squints at them. “Are you two… a thing?”

May and Happy both look at him like deers caught in headlights.

And Peter feels pretty dumb right now because how the heck did he miss this? He must have a pretty shocked expression on his face because May’s eyes widen nervously.

“Peter--I was going to tell you but you’ve been going through so much lately and I didn’t want to spring this on you. And we’re still figuring things out!” May says.

“Yeah! We’re just… seeing where this takes us.”

May nods in agreement. “Yes. Seeing where life takes us with this and… what road we’re going down.”

Peter blinks, processing this, along with the fact that he was pretty much dead for two minutes.

It’s just a lot right now and it’s making his head hurt more.

Peter just sighs, tiredly smiling at them. “It’s okay--I’m happy for you guys. Really.”

May and Happy both let out relieved sighs at that.

“Wow. That feels good to get off my chest.” Happy says.

“Yeah,” May agrees with a small laugh before she looks at Peter. “Now that that’s settled, you need to rest! How about you try to get some more sleep, okay?”

Peter smiles tiredly. “Okay.”

Sleep. That sounds pretty good right about now.

Settling back down in bed, Peter closes his eyes and tries to fall back to sleep as May and Happy softly talk beside him. He’s close to falling asleep until he thinks of something.

Oh. So that’s where all of those flowers have been coming from.

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theunderdogwrites · 3 years

Text

In Defense of Marilyn Manson

Just kidding.

This is another one of those ‘if you live under a rock, you might not know what is going on’ pieces. But because this story appears to be unfolding daily, I’d think you’ve heard a murmur here or there even if you haven’t really paid too much attention to it because for many, I think this may fall into the “that guy has been a messed-up weirdo for years so I’m not surprised” category.

Please note that in NO WAY I am making fun of this situation, but I learned a long time ago that I require a certain amount of humor to be able to digest much of what this world presents to me.

As always, let me give you the Coles Notes version with the hopes you will go and do your own reading as well.

On February 1 actress Evan Rachel Wood posted this on her Instagram:

"The name of my abuser is Brian Warner, also known to the world as Marilyn Manson. He started grooming me when I was a teenager and horrifically abused me for years. I was brainwashed and manipulated into submission. I am done living in fear of retaliation, slander or blackmail. I am here to expose this dangerous man and call out the many industries that have enabled him, before he ruins any more lives. I stand with the many victims who will no longer be silent."

Quick history lesson – They started dating in 2007 when she was 18 and he was 34 and were engaged for a brief time in 2010.

This was Manson’s response to what she wrote:

"Obviously, my art and my life have long been magnets for controversy, but these recent claims about me are horrible distortions of reality. My intimate relationships have always been entirely consensual with like-minded partners. Regardless of how - and why - others are now choosing to misrepresent the past, that is the truth."

Since the original statement on February 1 a number of women have come forward with stories of their own ranging from physical and emotional abuse to human trafficking. And everyday something new is revealed. Evan Rachel Woods is feverishly posting on her Insta-Story and is slowly burying Manson in an ocean of consequences. She isn’t “fired up” or “a woman scorned”, she is a victim rising above the shame she has felt and the fear of what others will say about her to tell her story and encourage others to do the same. She is the voice that started the ball rolling. The ball that is about to crush Marilyn Manson.

Whenever I write stuff that is currently being heavily featured in the media, I always dive into articles so I can get as much information as possible. But more importantly, I plunge my sensitive little soul into the murky depths known as “the comments section”. I do this because unlike those polished, finished pieces the comments section will give you a better idea of what your fellow human beings think and feel about the topic at hand. And it is never polished or even polite. And often not for the faint at heart. In case you didn’t already know – people can be quite terrible.

The comments section is the modern-day gladiator pit. Only most (not all) of the participants are not ripped, athletic warriors but rather drooling basement dwellers with one hand down their pants (not gender specific by the way) and the other hand maltreating the letters on their keyboard.

Side note: Look, I am not the grammar police as I often just push past all the warnings from the Gestapo editing program in Microsoft Word. BUT I know the value of proper spelling, well placed punctuation and valid attempts to appear smarter than a domesticated turkey by making sure sentences are well-thought out and complete. Raising your argument doesn’t mean USING ALL CAPS AND ABUSING THESE THINGS -> !!!

I just deleted three paragraphs going over the recent “reckoning” that has taken place in the past few years with regards to sexual and physical abuse accusations against (mostly) men in positions of some kind of power. I eliminated all that writing because I started to tumble off topic. I’m not writing about all the dicks now getting their comeuppance, but rather the reactions to it being Marilyn Manson’s turn in the chamber.

Victim shaming is sadly a real thing.

The easiest way I can explain this to you – if a person gets pickpocketed and then blamed because they should’ve known better than to carry their wallet in their back pocket.

Evan Rachel Woods and others have come out to accuse Manson of some pretty appalling acts of abuse and what I’ve found to be the biggest reaction is, “How did they not know he was a bad guy? His music is so graphic and they thought it was all an act? Why did they stay so long?”. As innocent as those questions might seem, and I say that because our brains don’t always serve us or others well, it is a form of discrediting those women. Let’s be honest here… it’s hard to look at Marilyn Manson and his art form and not say, “What the fuck, this guy has bad idea written all over him!”. I feel that is a perfectly reasonable response, but that is where it should end. I think it is fair to pause and attempt to understand the choices of others, but it’s heartless to minimize their experience by placing blame on them for a situation we couldn’t possibly understand if it has never happened to us.

And like I’ve quoted before: People only understand from their level of perception. But that doesn’t stop them from laying on the judgement and damaging already fragile individuals with their inability to show compassion for a fellow human being. Reading through comment sections isn’t just maddening, it’s disappointing and sad but also a real look into how awful many people feel about themselves… to the point where they seem to derive some pleasure or satisfaction from condemning a rape victim for wearing a short skirt and getting drunk.

So… we have to touch on this to be balanced: innocent until proven guilty. Only these days it’s an automatic trial by media with the public acting as judge, jury and executioner. This is where “cancel culture” steps in and within days can destroy an entire career / life. I am not a fan of cancel culture. It does not give people a chance to learn from their mistakes or make amends as it immediately harms their very existence. Often times even before any proof has surfaced. I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous this is… the fact that just an accusation could ruin your life.

Let me make this clear: if someone comes forward and claims they’ve been sexually assaulted/abused, they need to be taken seriously and not dismissed based upon the circumstances, their gender identity, the color of their skin, their economic position or profession or the person they’re accusing. In turn, the individual being accused should be given time to address the claims before the public begins demolishing their life.

A reoccurring comment in almost all these cases where someone comes forward and alleges abuse YEARS after it happened, is – “Why did they wait so long to come forward?”.

Is this a fair question? Sure. And I feel it is asked because our brain needs to find a way to understand the information we are being given. Because while we’d all like to think that if in the same situation we’d be unfuckable with and anyone who dared to bring damage to our doorstep would immediately suffer the consequences, we actually cannot predict our reaction. There are too many unknown variables to be able to confidently say we’d instantly speak up and seek retribution.

The fear of not being believed. The fear of being blamed. The fear of rejection. The fear of retaliation from the person being accused. The fear of being forever defined by your experience. The fear.

It does not matter the why, what matters is the chance they’ve taken by speaking up at all. Those who come forward should be embraced, not ridiculed. Not abandoned. Not criticized.

“Don’t ask why victims wait so long to speak up. Ask what systems were in place to keep them quiet”. Anonymous

I own a few Marilyn Manson CD’s. And I’ve even attended one of his concerts. Would I say I am a fan? Probably a number of years ago I was but truthfully, I’ve not paid attention to any of his music in recent years because I feel it devolved while my taste evolved. That’s not a slam against him or anyone who fancies his work, it’s more a statement on how I’ve matured and now seek out music that feels authentic to me.

The one concert I attended was opened by Courtney Love. I know, what a duo to pay money to see. Near the end of Manson’s set he made a disparaging remark about Love and trashed her music. At the time he was wearing some pretty hefty platform shoes so it made it all the more hilarious when from out of nowhere she charged like a rhino and tackled him to the stage; throwing punches at his head all the way down. When he finally was able to get up, he announced the show was over. There would be no encore and then him and his bandmates trashed the stage in a temper tantrum worthy of a toddler Napoleon. Still makes me laugh to this day.

Shoutout to Evan Rachel Wood and her most recent movie ‘Kajillionaire’. Watched it on demand about a month ago and it’s a brilliant comedy that will also pull at your heart. I highly recommend you give it a chance.

Check out the trailer:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiMPCevu8Wk

#evan rachel wood #victim shaming #marilyn manson #comments section #kajillionaire

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flowesona · 4 years

Text

Strength - Yandere! Yoongi x reader

The Tarot Series

“You won’t be able to play to the best of your ability if you’re slouching.” A warm hand pushed (Y/N)’s back into a straighter position and lingered for a second before being withdrawn.

“Try again for me. And try to play a bit faster this time. It’s meant to be 120 bpm and you’re only at 100 right now.” She nodded, eyes set on the sheet in front of her as her fingers once again began to dance with the keys, trying her best to appeal to Yoongi’s high standards.

(Y/N) could only hear the notes she was playing. Not an inch of her attention was given to her teacher standing behind her, a warm smile overcoming his face as she played.

Upon her hands falling on the final chord, she jumped at the feeling of his hands on her arms. With her being still, he moved his hands down towards her fingers, intertwining them with his own.

“That’s the best I’ve ever heard you perform this piece.” He whispered into her ear, placing a soft kiss on the shell. “I’m so lucky to be the one who gets to hear this.”

“Am I ready for the exam yet?” He frowned, his hot breaths sending shivers down (Y/N)’s spine amidst the silence as she waited for a response.

“No. You’ve still got so much to learn from me. We won’t stop until you’re perfect.” The kisses that were pressed against (Y/N)’s neck, trailing down further until he started to fiddle with her clothes, were little to consolidate the dissatisfaction that haunted her mind.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

Days were like walking through a sandstorm until her relief came in the form of her piano lessons. Yoongi was her relief amidst the stress of modern life, the person who saved her from going insane. It was his kisses and his touch that could wipe her mind of confusing symbols. But his effect was both a blessing and a curse.

“You simply aren’t meeting our standards, (Y/N). Unless your test results improve, we’ll suggest that you leave this school for a more appropriate one.” The young woman’s eyes were lowered to meet her lap as she tried not to cry.

“You’re a talented musician, (Y/N). But we need you to be well balanced in theory. I hope you understand.”

“I… I understand sir. Thank you for this opportunity.” She said, bowing politely before leaving, her stomach heavy with emotion.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was tapping his foot impatiently in the small practice room. She was already twenty minutes late, and she hadn’t even bothered to text. It was then he decided to go and look for her; perhaps she’d been caught up in some funny business, and she needed his help?

Yoongi couldn’t help but to walk as fast as humanly possible, pushing past his students without a second glance to reach the classroom (Y/N) should have been in. There was no sign of her.

It was as if the walls were closing in. Desperately his eyes scanned every part of the corridors that he hurried through, needing (Y/N) more than ever in that moment.

Thankfully, he found her outside the executive offices. However, he found her in a terrible state, crying endlessly.

“(Y/N)! Baby!” He rushed to hold her, but she pushed him away.

“Not here.” She mumbled, and he nodded understandingly. It was only after they had found an abandoned storage cupboard that she finally collapsed into him, sobbing.

“We have to end this, Yoongi.” (Y/N)’s whimpers alarmed the pianist, his breathing quickening.

“What do you mean? Why?” He asked, rubbing her back gently.

“I’m failing my theory class. I have to stop… this. Our lessons, our affair, everything. I’ll be kicked out otherwise.” The words tugged at Yoongi’s heartstrings more than anything.

“But we need to keep going! How else will you become-”

“No, Yoongi.” (Y/N) sniffed, looking up at him. “I don't need you.”

“But I need you. I need us, (Y/N). Please.” His whines were nothing to deter (Y/N). She was set on being the best musician she could be, and she wouldn’t lose her means for that because of her stupid attractive piano teacher.

“I’ll see you around, Yoongi.”

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

With (Y/N) no longer needing him, Yoongi felt as if his life had no meaning any longer. He couldn’t live in such a dull way, only tutoring lackluster students who didn’t have a glimmer of the talent & beauty that (Y/N) exuded.

Soon, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Just brushing shoulders with her in the corridor was not enough skinship for Yoongi. He needed her back, to return to what they had.

This led him to purchase a voice scrambler and a cheap phone to make his move. If (Y/N) couldn’t see him due to failing grades, he wouldn’t let her fail.

He dialed the number of her theory professor, resisting the shake of his leg as he waited for him to pick up.

“Hello?” The older man answered with some caution to his tone.

“Good evening. There’s something I need you to do for me.” Yoongi spoke into the voice scrambler, hoping that it would hide the shake of his voice.

“Who is this?”

“That’s none of your business, Professor. As long as you do as I say, we will have no further business.”

“Why should I do as you say? Who are you?”

“Your boyfriend. Park Jimin. He works night shifts, correct? When he’s all alone in the middle of the night, terrible things could happen to him. Don’t get on my bad side, Mr Kim.” By the way the line had fallen silent, Yoongi knew he’d hit the professor’s weak point.

“I want all your students to be given a passing grade. No exceptions.”

“B-but if I’m found to be faking grades, I c-could be fired!” The man on the other side of the line whined.

“Would you rather that, or have your boyfriend’s severed head on your doorstep?” Yoongi hissed.

“I-I understand. O-okay, I’ll do it.”

“I’ll check regularly. Don’t go back on your words, or your precious Jimin is as good as dead.”

“Wait, how will you-”

Yoongi ended the call before smashing the phone on the table, to leave no evidence of his doings in case anyone started snooping. After doing so, he gave himself the chance to breathe. The hard part was over, he just had to collect his prize.

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

As (Y/N) made her way to her lunch break, she was practically glowing. Finally, the stress of her exams was off her shoulders, and she could enjoy her degree rather than live in fear of failing.

Whilst mulling over what she was going to eat, she felt herself colliding with someone. Her accidental assailant caught onto her arms as she stumbled back, keeping her stable. It was only then she recognised him.

“Yoongi?” He gave her a shy smile as he steadied her.

“(Y/N).” For a moment they were silent, just staring at each other.

“I’ve missed you, Baby.” (Y/N)’s face dropped.

“I told you, we can’t do this.” She shook her head, closed her eyes as if to not get drawn back in. “I can’t go back to failing my classes, I can’t have… this… when I need to focus on my career.”

Yoongi paused, trying to contain his bubbling emotion as he spoke.

“(Y/N), I can help you. If you think you don’t need me and you’re better than me, you’re wrong. I helped you get these grades!”

A beat.

“Did you mess with the grades so I would go back to our lessons? Yoongi, you could be fired!” She looked aghast. “I want my grades to be legitimate. I don’t care if I fail, I’m going to report you for this.”

Yoongi glowered at her raised voice, glancing around before pulling her into the practice room next to them.

“(Y/N), please understand. Everything I do is for our future, you see?” He said firmly.

“What future? Yoongi, you’re not my partner! You’re hot and great and all that, but this was never going to last.”

“(Y/N), don’t play with my heart.” Yoongi pleaded. “Don’t make me the bad guy!”

“Just don’t talk to me anymore! I won’t tell anyone about it, just let me move on.” (Y/N) sighed.

“I can’t let you do that.”

(Y/N)’s body was pressed onto the table, as Yoongi used both his hands to hold her neck in place.

“I was worried you wouldn’t be as grateful as I hoped, so I had a backup plan.” (Y/N) tried to retaliate with all the energy she had left, but she was nothing beneath the maniac.

“I’m sorry I have to do this baby, but I can’t stay away any longer. No one can prevent us from being together now, not even you.”

#yandere bts #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #yandere kpop #yandere yoongi x reader #kpop yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere suga x reader #yandere bts au #bts suga #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yandere min yoongi #yandere oneshot #yandere min yoongi x reader #the tarot series

348 notes · View notes

fanficflaneuse · 4 years

Text

Princess Charming And The Gentleman in Distress

Index

A/N: I wrote this for my beautiful friend @the-hufflefluffwriter who loves Lucissa and helped me explore this ship. I loved writing this and I hope you like it as well <3

Lucius x Narcissa

Word count: 1530

Summary: Narcissa asks Lucius on a date.

Ever since he had gotten to Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy walked about the school grounds like a dandy. He was handsome and intelligent, qualities he knew he possessed and was not afraid to flaunt them in and out of class. He kept mostly to himself and talked to a very selected few. This rubbed most students the wrong way, as they assumed the was just another stuck up, entitled pureblood.

Which he was, to an extent.

Lucius was raised to be the perfect heir of a long line of (mostly) pure blooded wizards and witches, after all. He behaved with the propriety and decorum he was expected to, but that was not the reason why he wouldn’t engage with most people.

In reality, he knew he wasn’t half as charming as he imagined himself to be. He could get really dorky about things he was passionate about, like potion making or reading. He was an expert in lots of random things. He knew the events of the XVI century’s witch hunts and Anne Boleyn’s biography by heart. He loved animals, especially peacocks and learned every fact about them. He was kind-hearted, sensitive and open to new ideas, characteristics his father scorned.

Through the years, Lucius had curated an image of perfection he wasn’t willing to lose. And he wasn’t going to let anyone use his true colours against him like his father did.

So, as he walked to the prefects’ carriage, his shiny new badge pinned to his robes, he procured to maintain his composure. Nobody could’ve guessed how proud and excited he was about his new position. His mask of poise fell for a minute when he saw who the other Slytherin prefect was.

Narcissa Black was probably the most popular girl in their year. She was beautiful and dignified, with the aristocratic flair that accompanied her last name. She was also brilliant and had a way with people that made her the centre of attention wherever she went. She was a beater and the star of the Slytherin quidditch team. Narcissa laughed and the world stopped to listen. She was everything Lucius tried to convey and wasn’t.

They had never talked to each other. Narcissa had a lot of suitors, but the only two boys she really talked to apart from her teammates were Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, who dated her older sisters.

As he sat next to her, one single thought crossed his mind: Salazar, this is going to be very, very awkward.

…

“So, are you really thinking about filling your manor with albino peacocks?” she asked, laughter in her voice.

“Of course! They are beautiful, noble creatures. Once I’m the owner, I’ll have them everywhere,” he answered humorously and yet dead serious.

“What a joy to whoever marries you, Malfoy.”

As the months went by, Narcissa and Lucius struck up a very particular friendship. Little by little, he opened up to her. She was endeared by every arbitrary piece of knowledge he had to share with her. She loved how he listened intently to whatever she had to say and he’d ask real questions without ever being nosy. Narcissa found someone who understood her insecurities, someone who not only valued her wittiness but always had a perfect comeback for her. They were overly dramatic together, balancing the etiquette demanded by their families with playfulness.

Their nightly rounds suddenly became the highlight of their weeks. Every day, Lucius would try to find more creative ways to flirt. As the friendship grew, so did his attraction for Narcissa and he was dying to ask her out.

“That could be you, you know?” he said smugly.

Narcissa looked at him, an eyebrow raised. She knew Lucius liked her; he wasn’t subtle at all. And she liked him back, but she knew better than to show him that. Her sisters had taught her well.

“Oh, I know that approach too well, Malfoy. My mother warned me about guys like you.” She crossed her arms playfully.

“Oh, really? So, she warned you about handsome, intelligent and absolutely talented guys like me?” he shot back.

Narcissa laughed, a full-blown laugh that left her breathless. Lucius felt satisfied.

“No, you fool. She told me about those men, too eager to get a proper lady for a wife and a line of mistresses and bastards on the side,” she said dramatically.

It was Lucius’ turn to look at her as though she had gone mad. “And I am one of those?”

“Definitely.”

“Cissa, I can count with one hand the amount of people I talk to. If anything, you are the one who might be searching for a proper gentleman for a husband and a line of lovers on the side,” he countered.

“Not going to lie, I definitely like that idea. The swap of gender roles sounds refreshing,” she beamed back.

He shook his head as a smile played on his lips. “You’re going to be the death of me, Narcissa Black.”

Narcissa smiled. They were already walking back to the Slytherin common room. She knew everything her sisters had told her about not showing too much interest. Andromeda was particularly adamant about this; she had shown the slightest bit of interest for Rabastan and he acted smug for months before asking her out. But she wondered how long she’d have to wait before Lucius made a move. Narcissa didn’t know many more nights of playful banter she could take. Patience wasn’t her forte, as much as her father told her it was the most important quality to cultivate.

Her heart was beating fast on her chest when they arrived to their common room. She decided to get over with it already.

“Cissa.”

“Take me to Hogsmeade next weekend,” she blurted out. Her tone was demanding, not allowing the least beat of doubt to show on her features.

Lucius nodded slowly, not able to disguise his surprise at her bravery.

…

Lucius offered his arm to Narcissa, who linked it with hers. They were very close to each other, enough for her to notice how her date was shivering. It was snowing as they walk to Hogsmeade. Narcissa took the necessary precautions when she chose her garments for the day. She looked beautiful, as always, but she was also properly dressed for the weather. Lucius, on the other hand, had sacrificed comfort for style and now he was freezing to the bone and pretending like everything was fine.

Narcissa could tell he couldn’t wait to arrive at Madam Puddifoot’s and get his hands on steaming cup of tea. She decided it was her moment to act gallantly; she had asked him out, after all. She took off her green scarf and put it around his neck. Once again, Lucius was taken aback by her attitude, but he couldn’t deny the scarf made a big difference.

They smiled at each other sweetly, but she knew she couldn’t let this opportunity pass. She was loving the whole “princess charming and gentleman in distress” situation.

“You know, Malfoy? I love seeing you in my clothes.”

Lucius’ face was already too red from the cold for Narcissa to notice the blush, so he decided to play along with her. “You’ve seen nothing, Black. I’d look fabulous in one of your skirts.”

She giggled. “That confidence makes me think it wouldn’t be the first time you wear someone’s skirt.”

“It would be,” he said, “I’m just so handsome I can pull anything off.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes playfully.

“Your confidence, on the other hand, makes me think it isn’t the first time a guy uses your clothes,” he retaliated.

“Oh, it’s definitely not the first time,” she said offhandedly, noticing how Lucius’ confident smile vanished from his beautiful face. “My cousin Sirius looks so pretty in my dresses. You have no idea!”

Lucius snorted. He pushed the door to Madam Puddifoot’s. A tinkle announced their arrival. The place was tacky and over the top, with ribbons and frills in every possible pastel colour. It was, anyhow, classier than the Three Broomsticks and Lucius had wanted to take her on the very best date possible.

As they sat down, Lucius inched forward and whispered something that could’ve probably scandalized any other proper lady he knew: “You’d look great in my clothes, Black.”

“Oh, Malfoy,” she retorted, her smile hinting an incredibly witty response, “you’ll have to go to hell and back before I wear your clothes.”

…

Lucius woke up to an empty bed. He sat up, scanning the room in search of his wife. He noticed sounds coming from the bathroom and laid back, waiting for Mrs. Malfoy to emerge. Narcissa came back to their bed wearing Lucius’ robe. He smiled at the sight and open his arms for her. She gladly complied and snuggled to her husband.

“You know, Cissa?” whispered Lucius, never missing the chance to mess with his wife.

“Yes?”

“Going to hell and back wasn’t half as bad as I thought it would be,” he teased.

Narcissa filled the room with the wholehearted chortles only reserved for her husband and Lucius couldn’t feel any happier.

#lucissa #lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x narcissa malfoy #narcissa malfoy #narcissa black #narcissa #lucius #lucius malfoy x narcissa black #lucius x narcissa #lucissa fic #lucissa fanfiction #lucissa fanfic #narcissa malfoy fluff #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfics

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a-dorin · 3 years

Text

under the same stars

pairing: august moor x darth maul

word count: 3.043k

warnings: some cursing, angst, canon typical violence (lightsabers, confrontations), the start of some yearning, a naive jedi, a slight age gap

a/n: this is a rewrite of my old oc series, under the same stars! i hope you guys like this version more, as i will be deleting the old one. let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! i love these together a little too much already.

“again,” a voice commanded, “i want to see that combat technique once more. obi-wan, i advise you to keep your right arm tucked in, more towards your body. if it juts out any more, she would be able to notice that, and use that to her advantage.”

“do we really have to do this one more time?” a padawan tucked his braid behind his ear, scorn laced in his tone, “she is not playing fair, master. she’s using her abilities.”

“there’s no playing fair in battle, obi-wan,” a brunette piped up, clipping her saber to her belt, “are you just jealous that someone seven years your junior is going to be made a jedi knight in just a few short months?”

the senior padawan snorted, rolling his eyes, “anything else you wish to rub in my face? your tactics aren’t working on me this time, august.”

a sly smirk crept across the brunette’s features as she folded her arms across her chest, “yeah, well, i still would like to share a few bits here and there. oh, also how you just got your ass handed to you back there--”

“that is enough.”

eyes darted to the jedi master as he glowered over them, shaking his head, “i am aware that it may be difficult for the two of you to train together, especially with the age difference. however, i expect the two of you to be nothing but civil and respectful to one another. you both are gifted in your own ways. obi-wan, you are an excellent fighter, with clean and precise movement. august, you are more gifted with the ways of the force. yet, if you were to be paired for a mission, your petty bickering would only hold you back. nothing would be accomplished.”

“my apologies master,” the brunette mumbled, shifting uneasily, “it won’t happen again.”

qui-gon exhaled, bringing a hand to his temple, “you say that every instance but clearly the issue remains unresolved. if the two of you are to become jedi knights, you must embrace all aspects of the code, along with the ways of the force.”

“yes master,” obi-wan hung his head low, “i have failed you.”

“there is no such thing as failure,” the jedi’s voice softened, “you will learn how to handle your emotions in time, obi-wan. the path to become a jedi is not one that is easy, nor accomplished in a matter of years. it is a lifetime journey.”

“are we dismissed now?”

qui-gon’s head swiveled over to august, his eyes narrowing, “august, did i say that you were dismissed?”

“master windu and master buir requested my presence for tea,” for a moment, august’s demeanor cracked under her master’s harsh inquiry, “i told them that i would go after training.”

“after the spat you just had with obi-wan, i do not believe you deserve to be let off the hook.”

“do i get to go meet with seraphine for tea?” obi-wan cleared his throat, fiddling with the sleeves of his robes.

“absolutely not,” qui-gon’s response was immediate, “i believe i have the perfect assignment for the two of you.”

obi-wan’s lips parted, his eyes widening, “master, please, if anything, we can resolve our issues at a later time--”

“i want you to patrol the streets of coruscant tonight,” qui-gon folded his arms across his chest, as if he was challenging his padawans to interject, “you will work together. i will remain here at the temple, but i have complete faith in both of you. if you report back to me with a single singed robe, or a hair out of place from scrapping, i will extend the punishment. do you understand?”

“we’re not officers,” august sneered, “we’re--”

“jedi,” qui-gon finished, “keepers of peace.”

“no tea time for august tonight,” obi-wan let out a chuckle.

“and no tea with your girlfriend, either,” august spat, a whine rising in her throat, “master, can we please have separate punishments? i’m already tired of obi-wan’s droning.”

“pouting will get you nowhere,” qui-gon’s lips curled in a grin, his gaze twinkling with amusement, “i advise the two of you leave the temple at once. night is beginning to fall. when night comes, that is when the scorn of the universe emerges from the shadows.”

“fine,” august huffed, straightening her sleeve, “come on, obi-wan, let’s get this over with.”

“don’t you fret,” obi-wan countered, throwing on an earthy-toned cloak, “i’m counting down the hours until sunrise.”

as the two parted from the temple, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over coruscant. the moon was high in the sky, waxing towards a full moon. soon, the stars would be out, dancing across the night. soon, the shades of lilac, burgundy, cyan, and tangerine would be replaced by a rich navy blue.

silence fell over the pair of padawans as they descended from the stairs, the only sound the echo of their footsteps. as much as august ached to fly a small shuttle around for the night, qui-gon felt it was best that they remain on foot, where they could not be easily recognized in a crowd.

which, a night with obi-wan was the last night august wanted. especially on a gorgeous summer night like this.

stars glittered above, beginning to dot the sky, a sense of bliss rippling through august as she made the trek towards the sprawling array of streets, skyscrapers, and speeders. yet, that bliss was quickly replaced with dread as the lights of the city began to shine, shrouding the skyline.

“are you all right? you’re still wearing that frown from earlier,” obi-wan inquired, his tone apprehensive.

august sucked in a breath, her brows furrowing, “why do you care, obi-wan? you want nothing more than to spite me. i don’t ever recall a time where you actually showed me an ounce of respect for me or my emotions.”

“i am aware,” the padawan exhaled, “although you are one to wear your emotions on your sleeve, i can sense a bit of turmoil within you. are you that upset about spending a few hours with your fellow trainee?”

“i would rather have a cup of tea with a sith than spend the night with you.”

the bustle of life began to fill obi-wan’s ears, the whoosh of ships, the hum of lights, as well as the dialects of a variety of species. he choked back a swift rebuttal, clamping his lips shut.

yet, it was only moments later when her voice flooded his ears once more, so soft and quiet.

“i’m sorry.”

“sorry?” obi-wan echoed, “for what?”

“you know exactly what i’m apologizing for,” her voice hardened, “don’t be coy with me, kenobi.”

an amused smirk formed on the padawan’s lips as he glanced at august momentarily. her gaze was focused on the surrounding scenery, as they were beginning to make their way towards a marketplace. her brow was furrowed, plush lips drawn together, as if she was deep in thought. yet, the warm glow of lights softened her features.

underneath the hood of her cloak, her brunette hair was woven into an intricate half-down, half-up style, earrings dangling from her ears. free strands of hair swayed along with the breeze, her blue eyes glimmering with the reflection of coruscant. obi-wan swallowed thickly, careful not to stare a second longer. her eyes shifted, falling on the padawan.

“you’ve been surprisingly quiet tonight. is there something on your mind?”

“no,” obi-wan shook his head quickly, “i’m just taking it all in. this is one of my first solo missions, you know.”

“first time qui-gon’s letting you off a leash, huh?” august smirked, shooting obi-wan a wink.

obi-wan scoffed, waving a hand to deflect her statement, “i have undergone several successful solo missions, just so you know.”

a chuckle bubbled up in august’s throat, “oh, is that so? are you sure they were successful?”

“yes,” he retaliated, “how many solo missions have you been on, august moor?”

“a few,” she shrugged, “however, i did not need qui-gon’s permission. i was assigned to them by the council.”

“oh,” obi-wan mused, “august followed the councils’ wishes for once in her life.”

“at least i’m not a pushover like you, always groveling at the council’s feet,” august snorted, rolling her eyes, “do you ever wonder if the jedi are always the divine beings they claim they are?”

“you’re beginning to worry me,” obi-wan retorted, “you’re talking like a sith, august.”

“i am just speaking what’s on my mind,” she exhaled, her hand gravitating towards the hilt of her saber, “you don’t ever think about what would happen if you didn’t seek the route of a jedi? if you were just a normal, ordinary being on your home planet? don’t those thoughts keep you up late at night? do you ever just ponder? do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you were gifted with the force but did not follow any sort of code?”

“it’s not like we were given a choice in the matter, august,” the senior padawan observed, “we were taken to the temple as younglings. however, you must recall that jedi who are one with the force do not chose whether or not we possess these capabilities. we are born with them, as we are chosen by the force to bring balance to the universe.”

august groaned, “spare me the bullshit, obi-wan. you sound more and more like qui-gon every day.”

“is that such a bad thing?” obi-wan arched a brow.

“i’m just so tired of all of this mumbo-jumbo bullshit about the jedi and all of the regulations we have to follow,” she threw her arms up in the air, “it’s all so pointless and for what? to hold some title because we’re gifted with capabilities that others do not have?”

obi-wan paused, his eyes noticing a cloaked figure slinking through the shadows, “august, wait. do you see that fellow over there?”

august stopped in her tracks, a shudder coursing through her body, “o-obi-wan, it got all cold all of the sudden.”

his jaw clenched, the aura of the air shifting around them. tension crackled, the hairs on his neck prickling his skin, “don’t worry, i feel it too. would you like me to follow him, or would you like to take the lead on this one?”

“you’re the senior padawan here,” august muttered, fingers curling around her saber, “but, i guess i’ll take charge. i’ll comm you in case i run into any trouble.”

“be careful,” obi-wan’s hand grazed her wrist, “please, come back in one piece.”

“i will,” august nodded, “i promise you that, obi-wan.”

it was almost as if her senses blurred the moment she went in pursuit. blood roared in her ears as her heart pounded, the noise swirling in her ears almost static. her sense of smell was flooded with the burning stench of pollution, garbage, and murky water.

her thoughts were clouded, skull throbbing as she inched closer and closer, her knuckles nearly white as she gripped the hilt, “hey! stop!”

abruptly, the figure turned into an alleyway. he was swathed in darkness, the embodiment of a living shadow. under the veil of his hood, august could feel his gaze piercing through her, picking her apart, tearing her open.

dangerously intelligent, unforgiving, cold eyes.

pools of amber, flowing effortlessly into a ring of scarlet irises, luminescent in the night.

leather gloves wrapped around the hem of the hood, pulling it down to reveal the identity of the strange creature. someone who august felt compelled to follow, drawn in by the pull of the force.

he was a zabrak, ivory horns protruding from his skull. his skin was a crimson hue, black tattoos interwoven across his features. with sharp cheekbones, along with a strong nose, he was given a menacing aura. the gleam of silver caught august’s eye, instinctively drawing her saber, igniting it.

in the distance, thunder rolled, the atmosphere thickening. a droplet of rain sizzled as it met with the blade of her saber, the violet hue illuminating her face. clenching her jaw, she gritted her teeth, spitting out the inquiry once more.

“i thought i told you to stop. why didn’t you?”

the zabrak’s lips curled into a sinister grin, flashing his incisors as he drew his own saber, the blade an eerie scarlet color, “i cannot believe it. a jedi has fallen directly into my hands. what should i do with you?”

“i am no jedi,” august growled, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

the sincerity in her statement sparked interest within the zabrak. cocking his head, his eyes narrowed into slits, “you’re not with the jedi, yet you’re here on coruscant? what are you then? are you a rogue? a jedi plaything?”

“i am only training to become one,” the girl averted the zabrak’s gaze, keeping her saber drawn, “who are you? you have ten seconds to tell me your name and business here.”

“like i would be terrified of you,” the zabrak’s voice was hot with scorn, “i am maul and i have no business here other than a meeting.”

august inhaled sharply, “where are you from? i want to see your credentials. the senate was not meeting tonight, so there’s no real reason you should be here.”

“who are you?” the zabrak did not move a single muscle, maintaining his demeanor, “i believe it’s only fair you give me your name, little one.”

“my name is august moor,” the girl shifted uneasily, nearly panting.

maul closed his eyes, reaching out to august. as the wind rolled through the streets, the rain nearly washing away her scent as it fell in heavy sheets. however, he could pick out the faint scent of rose, the sweetness of blossoms.

his breath hitched in his throat, as her emotions consumed him entirely. he could sense her fear, her anxiety, “you’re anxious. why are you anxious?”

“because i don’t know who you are and you’re picking me apart. you’re a force user, aren’t you?” august retaliated, her tone indignant.

maul opened his eyes, noticing august’s features for the first time. her skin was pale, with undertones of pink, a blush tinging her cheeks. droplets fell from her jawline, dripping onto her robes.

her eyes were a shade of gray, hints of blue swimming within their depths. they were innocent and naive, eyes that were not quite haunted by the horrors of a lifetime. her brunette hair was down, with a braid woven around her head. strands of hair poked up, more than likely from the summer storm.

tit was without a doubt that she was beautiful, even if maul didn’t know a single thing about her. through the black cloak, she was donned in a grey tunic, royal blue fabric wrapped around her chest.

“don’t be scared,” maul murmured, the blades of his saber retracting as he stuck out a hand, “i am not going to kill you, little one. that would be unnecessary. my business here is not to harm you or bring you any harm.”

august clipped her hilt back to her belt, letting out a shaky breath, “i-i don’t know if i should trust you.”

a shiver ran down the zabrak’s spine as he reached out, “you’re going to catch a cold, little one. i advise you head back to your temple, where it’s warm and dry.”

“who are you to tell what i can and cannot do?”

maul’s brow furrowed, “you are right, but this storm is not going to end for a while.”

in her cloak, a comm beeped, signaling that obi-wan was attempting to contact her. august flinched, “i-i should go.”

“it would be wise,” the zabrak hummed, throwing his hood up once more. he took a step forward, grasping august’s chin with his glove. drops of water reflected on her lips as the pad of his thumb brushed them away.

“next time, stay out of the rain, little one.”

within seconds, august was alone in the alleyway, the ghost of his touch consuming her whole.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

august shot up, her heart thudding in her chest as she glanced wildly around her quarters, pulling the blanket to her chest, feeling as if the entire incident was just a dream. a wild, vivid, intense dream. rising to her feet, she took a hesitant step towards the viewport, her knees wobbling. the moon was high in the sky, signaling that a few hours had past. the storm broke, white, fluffy clouds sailing through the sky.

meanwhile, a zabrak rose to his feet, a dull throbbing in his skull. his muscles ached, sore from hours of combat training. he let out a few, ragged breaths, attempting to clear his cloudy mind. the encounter with the padawan must have been a nightmare, or rather, an interesting daydream. whatever it was, his master, darth sidious could never hear about this. he could never find the truth.

yet, when darth maul strolled down the corridor of his ship, a feeling of loneliness unraveled. he couldn’t help but feel an engrained feeling of sadness, laced with regret.

glancing out the viewport, maul gazed at the horizon stretched before him. an endless array of stars glittered, shining bright.

huffing, august shivered as a draft entered the space, the chill seeping through her clothing. yet, she couldn’t help but give the sky above her one last look, taking in the way the stars twinkled.

two lost souls stared at the stars, wondering if the other knew.

august slipped underneath her sheets, her eyelids heavy. she dozed off, dreaming of her encounter from earlier. the meeting was a pure coincidence. surely there was no driving force behind it. it was all a simple daydream or fever dream.

darth maul felt exhaustion rack his body, almost collapsing to the floor. he was tired, as he practiced combat technique for hours after arriving back to his ship. yet, this was a new wave of sleep overcoming him. the zabrak crawled to his bed, dreaming about his interaction with the padawan.

more than anything, he wanted to permanently ingrain the image of her in his memories, her beauty captivating. he wanted to remember the way her eyes glimmered in the rain, how she admired him momentarily.

a sith and jedi’s paths intertwined, under the same stars.

#darth maul #maul #star wars #the clone wars #jedi #sith #star wars x reader #maul fluff #maul imagine

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flightlessangelwings · 4 years

Text

Bad Guy

Here you go @flybi91! This is def full of angst and fluff!!

fem!reader

If someone had told you yesterday that today you would witness an alien invasion, you would have scoffed and called them mad. But that was exactly the scene that unfolded in front of you in the bright afternoon sun. Ships seemed to appear out of nowhere and a bunch of tall creatures with blue skin walked out with their weapons raised. What started as a quiet walk in the park soon turned into a panicked run as screams filled the air.

You ducked and doged the fire as you tried not to think about the strangers that you passed that you would never see again. Then, you noticed a man standing in the middle of the street. He didn’t seem as worried about the invasion and the violence around him, but you also noticed that one of the blue creatures had snuck up behind him.

Without even a second thought, you rushed toward him and pushed him out of the way at the last second before the creature could shoot him. The two of you fell to the ground with a grunt, and he seemed shocked and confused at the sudden movement. But, his face quickly turned to anger as he scrambled to his feet and yelled at the alien.

“Shoot them, not me you imbeciles!”

You couldn’t hide the confusion on your face as he squared up against the tall creature without fear. Even more confusing was that it actually listened to him and turned and went the other direction. You propped yourself up on your elbows as he turned to you.

“You’re an unusual one aren’t you?” he asked in a much gentler voice as he held his hand out to you, “Why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you the universe.”

True to his word, the man, who introduced himself to you simply as the Master, took you from one corner of the universe to another. You saw wonders you couldn’t even imagine, and sometimes he even would take you to your favorite historical periods in time. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would actually get the chance to meet Alexander the Great.

“This is…” you breathed out as you and the Master sat on a purple beach under the most beautiful sky you had ever seen, “I don’t even have words. Thank you,” you gave him such a sincere look. For a moment, the Master forgot about all the rage he held within him.

Maybe you could be the person to finally help him find peace within himself. The Master was surprised at himself when he thought that maybe he didn’t have to cause so much destruction everywhere he went. Maybe he wanted to make the universe a safe place for you and make you happy.

But just as quickly as that feeling appeared, it vanished when the pair of you ran into someone he knew. After almost a year of traveling with the Master, you saw a side of him for the first time that shocked and almost scared you.

“Who is that?” you asked as you stood at his side.

“The Doctor,” he snarled. Her loyal group of companions followed behind her as well but the Doctor kept them back.

She strolled up to the pair of you with confidence and just a hint of anger, “Kidnapping humans now are we?”

He scoffed, “Not kidnapping. She’s here of her own free will.”

The Doctor didn’t seem to like that, and she addressed you, “Do you know who you’re really traveling with?”

“The Master,” you replied bluntly. He seemed amused at your accidental rudeness towards her.

“Ask him what he is really, about the destruction he brings with him. Ask him about the things he’s done, the people he killed, the planets he burned,” her tone turned pointed.

“That’s enough,” the Master snapped as he pulled you away from her and dragged you back to his TARDIS.

The Master was in the most sour mood you had ever seen him in. In the time you traveled with him, he told you about what he was, but never mentioned anyone else of his own species or his home. You sat in a corner and let him ramble on to himself in an angry tirade as he flew his TARDIS. Once you felt the familiar jolt of a landing, he walked over to you.

“Let’s go,” his voice was stern, and you swallowed a lump in your throat as you followed him.

This visit wasn’t like your previous trips. He stepped on the planet already pissed off at anyone who entered his field of view. Before long, screams could be heard from every direction and everything was on fire. The Master made sure you were out of harm’s way, of course, but you couldn’t believe what you saw. And it gave you flashbacks to the day you met him back on Earth.

Suddenly the man you thought you knew, the man who had shown you the universe, the man you had grown to care deeply about, became a stranger.

As you tried to get back to the TARDIS, one of the locals grabbed onto your ankle from where she laid on the ground. You stopped in surprise, but you bent down to listen to what she had to say.

“He’s not a good man,” she managed to say between heavy breaths, “I see your heart and it’s a good one. Don’t let him corrupt you.”

You reached out to her and tried to offer a little bit of comfort, “I’m so sorry,” you whispered before she died in front of you. With tears in your eyes, you ran back to the ship and sobbed in the shadows. By the time the Master got back, your sobs became silent and he didn’t even notice.

The Master called your name once he got the TARDIS flying, and was taken aback when he found you slumped down in the shadows, “What are you doing?”

You looked up at him, “I could ask you the same thing. What the hell was that?”

“That,” he replied in a surprisingly harsh tone, “Was what I really am.”

“What? Just because the Doctor accused you of being a killer doesn’t mean…”

“She’s right!” he roared.

You blinked a few times and stepped back against the wall, and you were at a complete loss for words.

The volume of his voice frightened the Master too, only because it was directed at you. From the day you met, he swore to himself that he would never yell at you and never put you in harm’s way. But today he broke both promises he silently made to you, and he was surprised how awful it made him feel.

“Come with me,” he said softly as he held his hand out to you.

With a shaky hand, you took his and you let him take you over to the console. The Master kept his hand in yours as he flipped a switch and the TARDIS shook. The rumble knocked you off balance, but he easily caught you and held you in his arms so you wouldn’t fall over. You lifted your gaze to meet his, and you and the Master shared a moment of silence together.

The Master broke eye contact and wordlessly led you out the doors. The planet he landed on was completely devoid of life, and it looked like it was still in the embers of a lasting fire. It was hot, but at the same time it felt cold. And you could feel the sadness in the air.

“Where are we?” you were almost afraid to ask.

“Gallifrey,” he answered before he turned to you with a sad look in his eyes, “My home planet.”

You turned to face him, your mouth gaped open, “Don’t tell me…” you drifted off as the tears started.

He nodded.

The tears wouldn’t stop once they started, “I don’t know why I’m crying,” you muttered between sobs before you turned and went back in the TARDIS. You were so overwhelmed with emotions, and you couldn’t bear to look at the burned planet anymore.

The Master followed silently behind you and just watched as you wiped the tears of your cheeks.

You broke the silence in a meek voice, “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, “And I didn’t want to believe it. But this…” you couldn’t even finish your thought, but you managed to bring yourself to look at him, “This can’t be the same man I care about… that I’ve started to fall in love with,” your confession came as a surprise to both of you, and you didn’t like how long the Master was quiet, “Say something, please.”

He sighed your name, “There’s nothing to say. I wish I could say I’ve changed, that you changed me. But I don’t know if anything can change me at this point,” he sounded sadder than you expected him to, “Not even loving you,” he met your eyes and your mouth dropped open in shock, “And I know I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be in love with you.”

“Master,” you whispered as you stepped closer to him.

“I’ll take you home, and I promise you’ll never see me again,” he couldn’t look at you because he knew the sad expression on your face would break him, “I was being selfish, thinking I could bring someone along like the Doctor does.”

“Master,” you repeated in a firmer voice that forces him to look at you, “You don’t have to be like this. You’re not bound to your anger the way you think you are. Please don’t push me away.”

He tries to retaliate but before he could get a word out, you closed the gap between your bodies and kissed him. It wasn’t a soft kiss, and the Master could feel your emotion behind it. He held you by your waist and kissed you back.

When he pulled away, the Master looked at you with a tender expression, “Are you sure about this?”

“Honestly,” you replied in a hushed voice, “I’m not sure of anything anymore. But I do know that the last year with you was the best year of my life, and I love you,” a faint smile graced your lips, “The rest we can figure out together.”

Everything taglist: @thirsty-flygirl

#dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master x you #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x y/n #sacha dhawan #doctor who imagine #doctor who fic #dhawan!master fic #dhawan!master imagine #the master x reader #the master

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mimiplaysgames · 3 years

Text

A Powerful Enough Dream (Ch. 10)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua (eventually) Rating: T Word Count: 6,286

Summary: It’s time to save Ven from Castle Oblivion

Read on AO3

A/N: Woooooow I really didn’t want to take this long to finish this, but you guys know what my mental health is like sometimes. I actually finished two other WIPs before this one, but I’m still not happy with those so I wrote this one out. Thank you all so much for your patience. I hope this was worth the wait. >.<

~*~*~*~*~

Oblivion, pt. 2

Ven, you let Aqua take you home.

No way. I wanna go with you guys.

You can’t. We have a dangerous task ahead of us. I don’t want you to get hurt.

--And what is this dangerous task, Terra? It doesn’t sound like what the Master told you to do.

It might be a different route, but I’m fighting the darkness.

--I’m not so sure. I’ve been to the same worlds as you and I’ve seen what you’ve done. You shouldn’t put yourself so close to the darkness.

Listen to yourself, Aqua. Terra would never--

You mean you’ve been spying on me? Is that what he said to do? The Master’s orders?

--He was only…

I get it.

Terra!

Just stay put! I’m on my own now, all right?

--Terra, please! Listen! The Master has no reason to distrust you, really! He was just worried.

You’re awful, Aqua.

~*~*~*~*~

She’s awful and she knows it.

Terra stands there, his fingers curled into fists, hurt and bewilderment in the strict knit of his brows. Aqua used to tell herself that everything she’s done was for the greater good. Better for everyone, better for Terra, even if he didn’t know it. She knew he felt betrayed. Felt. Since there’s no time in the Realm of Darkness, Aqua hasn’t been able to count how many years it took her to realize that she’s actually betrayed her best friend, how long it took to tell the difference between the two.

“I was only trying to help,” he says.

This isn’t how it goes. Aqua swallows. “I know that-”

“Then why?”

This isn’t the way it’s supposed to happen. “The Master was only looking out for you.” That’s true, at least. He’s always had good intentions.

Terra’s lip snarls. “Was he?”

She doesn’t know anymore. “I was confused and unsure, Terra. I’m so sorry.”

Why is she apologizing now when she already has? When Terra forgave her?

But did he? That happened in a dream.

Terra scoffs as he looks away, a false smile pulled on his face before he shakes his head. “Sorry. You accused me of leading myself to the darkness. Is that what you really think of me? An idiot?”

“No…” Did she?

“You’ve blamed me for everything.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t,” she whispers. Has she really?

“You’re awful, Aqua,” Terra says.

She knows it. Terra said it. And her heart wretches inside, vomiting an acid that burns her esophagus and is bubbling up, making her head light.

“A curious memory,” a voice says. Xemnas stands behind her. He hums, his voice so deep it almost sounds like a growl.

Terra is gone.

She realizes where she is. Castle Oblivion. An image of Radiant Garden. “It’s false,” she spits.

“Are you certain?” He smiles and it comes slowly, like he takes care in easing into it. “The basic act of remembering is a basic act of storytelling. We take artistic license and smear it each and every time we take a nostalgic trip. You change the details depending on who you decide to recite it to.” He waves his arms open, dramatically drawing out his words. “Depending on your mood, or your motivation, or the meaning you want to take out of it, you alter things to fit a narrative in your head. Our memories are only ever reliable as the most recent story we told ourselves. Are you confident you’d be able to tell the difference?”

“I…”

“Does this playact fit the story you want to tell about yourself?”

She blinks, trying to recall the exact words and in the order of how it happened. Ven was there that day. She’s sure of that.

Right?

Xemnas sighs, eyeing the scene around him, bringing his gloved fingers to his lips. “I don’t have memory of this. But it was an interesting tale.”

Aqua inhales sharply and shakes herself out of her own damn stupor. “It doesn’t matter what you think.”

“I think whatever you saw is a reflection of yourself.” He strokes his hair out of his face. “Therefore, it’s true in its own way.”

“It isn’t!” She can’t believe so. She can’t think about it right now. Despite how much her wrist hurts, she charges at him, the Defender high and energized, loyal and at the ready.

He accepts her challenge with open arms and two swords of hot, red energy, barely floating out of her reach as though to coax her to follow him around. And she follows, because she’s an idiot. Master Aqua doesn’t know what she’s doing even when she thinks she does. Even when she believes in the words she says, or believes that attacking Xemnas is the right thing to do, because he is on Xehanort’s side and there’s no reason to stop flailing at him with the heaviest ice magic she can muster.

Aqua thrusts the Keyblade at him. Stupid move. She knows that. Then why is she making so many mistakes?

Xemnas catches it in between his blades, slicing them away to throw her off balance. She retaliates with a mutter under her breath. Waves of ice shards spew out in circles, stabbing in random patterns. Let’s see him block these.

He does a decent job dodging, but he’s distracted. That’s all she needs.

Aqua tracks the tip of the Defender against the floor. An ice path spits forward. She skates on them, picking up speed to ram directly into him, throwing him against the wall with a sickening thud.

“How’s that for someone less than half your size?”

She inhales deeply, and with it comes magic and the excitement of dance. The anticipation to move and dazzle. She twirls and her Keyblade ignites, gathering energy with each turn she takes in place before it finally combusts in brilliant colors and spackles of white.

Cutting through the beauty is a mess of black smog. “It was radiant,” Xemnas growls, pushing through with that sickness he calls a Nobody’s power, something that drains energy as if it were a black hole.

The void sharpens up with electricity and collapses into millions of shards of its own light, fueled by a massive compression as if warping the air around it. Aqua backs off. It’s not a space she should breathe into. The false-light shoots outward with Xemnas’s command, stabbing in all directions. They’re hard to block. Hard to dodge. Hard to withstand a direct hit and Aqua takes them in the legs, the torso, the shoulders. Some stab her in the face.

By the end, she’s the one splayed out on the floor, the Defender dissipating.

“A waste of my power when we could have had an amicable conversation,” Xemnas says, brushing off his sleeves.

Aqua is sore all over. Her legs don’t want to pick her up.

Ragged breathing (hers) pounds in her ears, interrupted only by the echoes of his steps, tick-tacking up to her slowly, like he’s pretty sure she won’t get up.

Aqua grunts while pressing her palms against the floor. Her good wrist shakes. Her bad one just won’t.

“Back off!”

Sora’s voice.

He’s coming for Xemnas from above, gripping his Keyblade with both hands high above his head as though he’s about to bat a ball and grovel it into the ground. When he makes contact with Xemnas’s back, slicing across, a white electric spark crackles outward, tossing him at a safe distance away from her body.

All Aqua sees when Sora lands are the toes of giant yellow shoes. A warmth settles on her, ticklish and relaxing until it suddenly vanishes too soon. He really needs to work on his Cure spells.

“Think you can handle him?” he asks her, already prepared to fight more. Xemnas picks himself up, brushing his hand on his face. “We can do it together.”

“It’s a waste of time,” she says. Xemnas and false memories and stupid speeches all at once. How many rooms did Sora go through to get here? How much has he lost already?

She sets her eyes on the exit: a gate that would have led to the alleys in the real Radiant Garden. They should go. Should they stay and finish this off?

(I can’t let Sora fight alone. I need to protect Ven from threats. Why am I not spending my time finding him?)

She ends it with, I have to shut myself up. “Can you distract him for me?”

“Sure?”

“Follow me as soon as I call for you,” she commands, marching straight to the door without a glance at the noise combusting behind her. Sora’s yelling with passion and excitement. Xemnas grunts with annoyance. Explosions rumble in between.

She grips the handle and risks looking back. Sora is a good fighter, all improv and no hesitance, like a rocket with no homing device. He dodges attacks while tossing up mockery and teases (he might as well drop the Keyblade and stick his tongue out while gesturing with his fingers). Xemnas shows off fanciful and destructive magic that is both inefficient in aim and wide-reaching. So much of his hits are collateral damage.

Sora gets knocked onto his knees. She’s about to run to him when he bounces back, blocking another direct hit and redirecting it.

He’s okay.

She should trust him.

“Focus, Aqua,” she chides herself. Regardless of how much fun Sora is having, he’s depending on her to move forward for everyone’s sakes. She thinks about nothing, she thinks about Ven. Sleeping in that throne all by himself. When she wakes him up, he’s going to pout and say, Did you forget about me or something? Aqua, you’re so mean.

You’re awful, Aqua.

She needs an empty, quiet room. The door responds, a little aha! moment that churns in her belly. She turns the knob. “Sora!”

He hesitates.

“Sora, come here!”

This time he follows, hustling to her side. “But-” He points at Xemnas charging at them, so fast that he’s floating, when she grabs Sora by the elbow and pulls him through with her. Like a vacuum, they get sucked inside. All remnants of destruction, crumbling brick, smokey air, and aftershocks are erased with the click of the doorknob into its latch.

They land face first on cold tile in a simple white room.

Sora sighs, a little laugh escaping through his breath. She gets it, she’s relieved too.

“I will never look at Xemnas’s face the same way again,” he says, grunting when he hops onto his feet, shoulders rolling and neck stretching like he’s done a good workout.

Aqua’s wrist still protests when she leans on it to get on her knees. She doesn’t let Sora see - she briskly stands like she’s still got pep to her step, her good hand gently clasped over it as she begins a Curaga to start the healing process. It prickles and kneads, sharp bubbles popping on the skin’s surface like slapping rubber to the skin.

“How did you find me?” Aqua asks. She has to. The castle is designed to disorient. It takes a tremendous bond to keep anyone inside together, and she figures Sora would rather stay close to Riku and the others.

Sora blinks. “I’m not exactly sure. We got separated, picked off one by one. I took doors that my gut told me to choose.” He touches his chest and chuckles. “Or rather, my heart. I thought it’d lead me back to them.” Then he snorts. “You’re a lot easier to find than Riku, that’s for sure.”

That doesn’t make any much sense, and all Aqua says is, “You’re a good person, Sora.”

He lets his smile fall and cocks his head, a quiet Huh? slipping out. It takes him moments to respond. “You don’t think you are?”

“I don’t…” She’s about to say, deserve my Master’s rank. Something’s wrong. Her Light magic should have only taken a couple of seconds to heal, but it keeps going. When it’s finally complete, her wrist is still sore. Aqua presses her fingers to her temples to massage a headache that isn’t there. “I don’t sound like myself. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” His stretched smile shines again. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s normal.”

“Normal?”

“I mean,” he shrugs a playful shoulder, “maybe a little weird, sure. If that’s what you want to hear.”

She scoffs, the tiniest grin wrestling its way onto her lips. “Maybe I am.”

“Did you know I once called Riku ‘stupid?’”

It’s her turn to snort. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’d let you say that to him.”

“You’d be surprised.”

The snorting turns into a small giggle, something warm and toasty as though this room has never been cold.

“See?” Sora says. “A little laughter says a lot about you.”

Aqua massages her wrist one last time. “In what way?”

“That you survive what you went through,” he says slowly, “and still laugh? You’re stronger than you think.”

Aqua swallows. She’s once thought the same thing, but she’s tired now. So tired of being strong.

As if taking her silence as cue, Sora glances around the empty room, that one simple door waiting for them. “So, what now?”

“We get Ven.”

He’s super excited and it’s very endearing, like he’s about to witness an inexplicable magic trick. “How are we going to do that?”

Aqua leads the way. Ven. Finally. “Again, I will be the one to unlock the door.”

He keeps to her heels like a puppy. Right now, on the other side of that door, she figures there’s nothing, a canvas in need of paint. When the castle takes a peek inside a person’s head to mirror what they want to see, it takes so much more.

“Do you just… picture Ven in your head and voila?” Sora asks.

“Kind of.”

“And what else? What’s the secret?”

Aqua hums, fingers twiddling with each other. “A lot of focus and dedication.”

“That can’t be it. There’s gotta be more.”

“And quiet.”

“Oh, sorry.”

It’s Ven’s movement. His voice. A tight hug given or a toothy grin, from any moment of her choosing, so long as the memory is striking. Xemnas.

Why is she thinking of Xemnas?

When he said that memories are only as real as the stories we tell ourselves. Is that the same for memories so powerful, there’s no way they can be anything but untrue?

He’s wrong. A memory as warm as the laughter she shared with Sora would do the spell right.

Just before she replays the scene in her head, tears slowly prick at her eyes. Even after spending years knowing that she’s going to lose this memory, that she’s literally giving it up as an offering, she’s still trembling. Why is she so scared?

She has other memories, she tells herself, just as precious to make up for it.

~*~*~*~*~

Ven wasn’t able to speak much when he first woke up. He’d learn a few words here and there, and would repeat them. For a child without a grip on language, he was so eager to let everyone know everything he felt.

And he really liked stars.

That night, a thunderstorm blotted the sky, and there weren’t any to see.

Good thing Ven wasn’t afraid of thunder, and good thing Aqua and Terra stashed a tent for nights like these. Draped over Ven’s bed, Terra brought in custom-made wooden lampshades, where he carved out shapes of stars. Third edition - the first time he tried, on cardboard, was a messy affair and some stars turned out to be globs. Stars dotted the entire tent, spreading all over the bed and loitering their bodies. In Ven’s bedroom, they sat in the very sky.

“Ven won’t let me read to him anymore,” Aqua said, watching Ven snatch the picture book she brought him.

“You’re welcome,” said Ven.

Terra chuckled. “He won’t let me either. He just wants to know how it ends.”

“It’s a happy one, I promise,” was Aqua’s desperate plea. He used to be so cute with how attached he was to her and how much he nudged to hear her speak. She even read recipes to him - so long as she spoke, Ven was amused.

“You’re welcome,” said Ven.

Terra propped himself on his elbow, opening a bag of nuts. “Hungry, Ven?”

Ven, forgetting there was a book on his lap, splayed out his palm. He gestured with a kingly expectation that he’d be graced.

“You need to say, ‘Please,’” Terra said.

“You’re welcome.”

Terra gave Aqua a knowing smirk, a tall boy in a lanky body who told her that morning that he needed to grow muscles. His new Keyblade was too heavy for him, his swings too sluggish. He was worried about his future when she thought he shouldn’t be. He gathered a few peanuts with his fingers and gently placed them in Ven’s hand, watchful for spills. “Now you say, ‘Thank you.’”

“You’re welcome.” Ven snarfed them all down, cheeks bubbling full before he swallowed them in one gulp. He licked his fingers and pointed to a pitcher for water (You’re welcome). Aqua thought she’d never forget it.

~*~*~*~*~

“Are you okay?”

“Hm?”

Aqua blinks at a fussing Sora, who has his hand on her shoulder with this terrible concern knotting his face. “Are you hurt?”

“No, why are you asking?”

Sora lets her go, his hand still hovering close. “You seemed really sad.”

Tears are indeed flowing down her face and Aqua wipes them off. Why they’re there, she doesn’t understand. There’s nothing to be upset about. Ven is on the other side of this door. That thought alone - Ven! - burns a hearth through her entire body, like snuggling in a blanket by a fireplace. She’s done it. She’s done something truly outstanding.

“I’m not,” she laughs. “Everything’s going to be okay. He’s on the other side.”

He’s on the other side. Aqua twists the knob as fast as possible, pushing her way into another white room. With a throne. And a boy with blond hair, tucked into a seat two times his size in peaceful sleep.

“Ven,” she gasps. There’s nothing else in her mind. Just Ven.

“Roxas?”

It’s like being dunked in cold water. What came out of Sora’s mouth, she has no damn idea. “Ventus,” she corrects.

But Sora has a strange look on his face, his hand clutching his stomach. “Huh?”

She doesn’t listen. She runs up to the throne, reaching out to shake him. “Ven?”

Stars, he looks the same in her memories, maybe less pudgy in the cheeks. But the more she studies him, the more a pit in her stomach grows. He looks peaceful from far away, but this close, he looks like he’ll never wake up despite being warm to her touch.

“Is it because I took so long?” she asks softly, as if speaking too loud would startle him out of a nightmare. “Is it because there was something I was missing? Should I have found your heart first?” She takes his face in both of her hands and brings his forehead to hers. This time, she really does want to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

Sora walks carefully up to the throne, hesitant to disturb the moment. “Aqua, I don’t feel so good.”

She finds him staring at Ven, like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Sora shakes his head. “It’s creepy.”

“Excuse me?”

A giant bang rattles the door behind them nearly out of its hinges.

“What was that?” Sora whips around. It bangs again, dust spitting out. Spiney tendrils seep through the cracks. “Xemnas!”

Her first instinct is to stay. To fight anything that would threaten Ven’s body. Dammit. There’s still everyone else they have to find. And what if his body gets hurt in the chaos?

“We don’t have the time.” She swings Ven’s arms over her shoulders, hooking his legs over her arms as she takes on his entire weight onto her back. He’s heavy for someone who hasn’t eaten in years.

“Do you need help?”

“If he breaks through-”

“Got it.”

This room is a dead end - the only way in is the only way out. The real treasure room of the castle, its finality a way of saying, You’ve made it!

And so, Aqua has to make a new door.

She struggles to pull out the Defender with Ven on her back, having to lift one shoulder up to keep him level so he doesn’t slack over.

The door bangs again, nearly rupturing apart.

With Sora on guard, Aqua glares at the wall as though to burn a hole through it. It should be less work than transforming the entire castle. The Master’s Defender, once called its Keeper, is a specific inheritance meant for the wielder to keep secrets - even ones he’s never heard of. The castle will deceive. The castle will do what it needs to protect. Aqua asks it to protect them with secrets it will never tell her.

Thrusting the Keyblade forward, the outline of a keyhole sparkles on the surface of the wall, stretching into the shape of a door like all the others. Aqua makes sure to give this one a particular lock.

“Sora!”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. He leans into her as if to keep Ven upright for her. “Just open the door for me. Make sure to lock it firmly behind us.”

He does so, throwing it wide to a tiny room, stretched long but narrow like a walk-in closet. Aqua hustles inside.

The door bangs one more time. It tears near the handle. Xemnas heaves when he pushes it open as though it’s the heaviest in the castle. He’s angry, annoyed, the last in the race, an also-ran. He’s so composed, so poised though, like a puppet that wears a mask to pretend to be human.

And Sora has their sanctuary propped open, gaping.

“What’s wrong?”

Sora shakes himself out of a stupor, shutting her new door. It wipes Xemnas out of existence, like hand brushing the surface of a table, throwing all the mess onto the floor for a new start. Sora then watches it latch, as though expecting it to rattle.

“Xemnas won’t get through,” she says. “I made sure of it.”

He scratches his head, that brand of Sora-smile brightening up like normal. “Where are we?”

“In a safe room.” She bends her knees and gently lets her grip of Ven’s wrists go, letting him hit the wall behind her. It’s so narrow that she’s unable to stretch her legs when she sits besides him. “It’s only meant for our friends.”

“They’ll find us?”

“As easily as they want to, yes.” When she watches Sora slump onto the wall opposite hers, his feet resting up against the other side, she shivers. He’s still reading the walls as if they have words painted on them even though they’re blank. “Are you sure you’re okay?” A worse thought creeps up to her. “Did you see things?”

Sora glances at Ven. “I did actually.” He chuckles. “Like that night when Destiny Islands went under. Kairi yelled at me when I missed dinner like it was just another night. She always had something to nag about.” He blinks. “Or was that my mom?”

“I should apologize,” Aqua says, lowering her gaze. “This should have only been my burden to bear.”

“No regrets here.” Something passes over his face like a cloud hovering over, and Sora presses a fist to his temple as if to think really hard. “Stained glass windows.”

“Huh?”

“Mountains.” Sora scrunches his eyes as if shampoo had gotten in them. “This place used to be really pretty, right?”

Aqua drops her jaw. She stares at him really hard, but he breathes deeply, lost in his thoughts like a mannequin coming alive. Memory of this place should only live inside a handful of people. He isn’t supposed to know, and the castle couldn’t have shown him any of that.

“How-”

Their door unlocks itself, swinging wide open. Kairi limps inside with heavy breath. Riku is slumped over her shoulders, unconscious.

Sora acts like he’s just woken up. “What happened?” He gets up, taking Riku’s other arm so they could set him down. Riku doesn’t come across as a particularly large boy but he takes up so much space. Aqua has to drag Ven to make room before shifting onto her knees to read Riku’s energy - he’s alive.

Kairi sniffs. “He took a direct hit for me.”

Sora pats her shoulder. “He would’ve done the same for me.” Though he’s not so confident.

“Don’t worry. He’s going to be okay,” Aqua says.

Kairi grimaces somewhere in the middle of being comforted and not quite believing that. Aqua starts a Cure spell. It takes its time, but whether that’s her failure or because Riku is in terrible condition, she can’t tell.

“Is that…?”

Aqua spares a glance at Kairi, who has her fingers wiping her tear-stained face. “It is. Ven.”

“Is he not okay?”

Aqua swallows.

The door rattles like there’s a desperate person begging for someone to open it. Lea and Donald bicker when they come in (something about Getting pistol heavy and Donald responds with a Bah!), Goofy trailing behind them. They pile on top of everyone else, Lea opting to stay standing because there’s simply no room for him.

He takes one look at Riku. And he smirks. “Some people always have to play the dark and brooding hero.” That don’t-give-too-much-of-a-care touch to his voice loses its power, however, the moment he sets his eyes on Ven.

Aqua never expected they knew each other.

“Roxas?” He hurries over, hopping over legs and feet like stepping rocks.

Why do they bring that name up?! Aqua keeps an eye over her shoulder. Something about their reactions to Ven doesn’t sit right with her. Something about Lea’s expression - the wide eyes, the dropped hands, the gasp, the deadset desperation - marks it as more intense than Sora’s, who felt nauseous.

Lea settles on his knees to take a close look. Aqua couldn’t have misinterpreted it: disappointment flashes across his face, and Lea stops a sharp inhale before letting it out slowly. “No, you’re Ventus.” When they lock eyes, he gets serious. “Listen, there’s other Organization members in the castle.” It makes every conscious person in the room pay attention.

“Ha, let them try and fit in here!” Donald says, sticking his beak up to the state of the room. Goofy has a long shoe stuck on top of one of his webbed feet, giving Donald a scowl to last two entire nights.

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Sora says with a smirk. Playful or careful, it’s hard to differentiate with him. He winks at Aqua. “He’s only that way because of the King.”

The King and Terra lost in the Realm of Darkness. And Aqua’s stuck in a closet with an angry bird and beat up, tired, anxious fighters.

“Do we go back out?” Kairi meekly asks. “Downstairs instead of up?”

Aqua didn’t have to climb stairs to get here. Damn it.

“We’ll make sure to stay together this time-” she starts to say when Lea interrupts her with a sharp No.

He’s holding his head like he’s got a headache. He fidgets, lost in thought as his eyes search this room though he’s not going to find much help here. There’s someone he obviously doesn’t want to cut across. “We’ll take a shortcut.”

“Excuse me?”

He stands up, leaning over Sora to splay his palm against the wall. “Is Xemnas here?”

Aqua purses her lips before she answers. “Yes.”

“If he’s this close, he’ll find out I used it. He always does.” From his hand slithers out tendrils of black smoke. From that grows a doorway. From the doorway, a glow that opens up a portal to somewhere else. “Straight to the exit.”

Aqua shakes her head. “I’m not going in there.”

“That’s dangerous!” Donald barks. Aqua is grateful she’s not the only one opposed.

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to use a Dark Corridor,” Goofy says. He is game and he is cheerful, letting Sora help him sling Riku over one of his shoulders. “Do ya think we’ll need a night-light?”

Sora snickers in response. “It’s only a little cold. Nothing much to worry about.”

Aqua doesn’t know where to start. They’re all wrong. “But-”

Lea takes Ven onto his back. He has a much easier time, as though carrying a backpack, bobbing Ven’s weight to make sure he has a better grip. “Let’s go.” Then he glances at Aqua with a stern, almost distasteful look that tells her he means business. No jokes. No sarcasm. In words, Get your shit together.

He leads the way, Ven poofing out of existence the moment he passes through, asleep, oblivious of the world, unsafe and safe all at once. And Aqua stood there staring. Goofy follows next, his large steps striding so widely that Riku’s arms sway side to side.

Aqua can feel that familiar chill, and it churns her stomach to think that it’s so close to her again. She doesn’t move. Even when Donald struts his way in, throwing a Humph! for good measure.

Even when Sora coaxes Kairi into it, telling her that it’s really no big deal. Just follow the others. Even when he smiles at Aqua and tells her, Come on. It’s a short trip.

She only nudges forward the moment Sora takes one last visible step into the void. She’s alone. She gasps. Summons her armor before dashing after them, metal footsteps clunking through a long, dark tunnel. It slithers around her, but she keeps her eyes ahead, following Sora and Kairi as they run straight to the other side. Don’t look at anything else. Don’t even think about it. Just follow them.

It is indeed a short run to the other side, a round light swallowing her when she crosses the border, leading her back outside to the barren wasteland that is Castle Oblivion’s patio. Aqua’s heart hammers away like she’s drunk too many stimulants for years. Like she’s too old for this. She’s gasping into her helmet, but she won’t dispel it just yet. Not when the others are here.

Lea doesn’t stop. He marches straight to the gummi ship, its hangar left open for them, followed by a diligent Goofy. They have a room inside where they could tend to Riku’s wounds and make sure Ven is comfortable.

Sora looks back. “You’ll fly on your own right?”

Aqua weakly nods and the others board the ship.

Lea made it so easy to exit. Traversing the castle seemed like a nightmare that kept you asleep just to see it end. The gummi ship starts its engines, revving up and blowing air that kicks the dirt up. Aqua listens for Lea’s corridor to dissipate. Maybe all this noise is playing tricks with her mind because that bubbling sound that should signal its disappearance is going on for too long. Aqua turns around. Lea’s is gone alright, but another takes shape at the front entrance.

Vanitas bursts out of it to witness the gummi ship take off.

Xemnas casually steps out, too. “Stand your ground,” he orders.

Vanitas does obey, though he’s trembling with so much fever that it looks like he’s fighting off a spell that kept him frozen. Fists curled up tight, stance wide like he’s about to charge ahead if only given the permission to do so. Aqua would have expected him to glance back as if to say, Are you stupid?

But he doesn’t look back. She can only imagine him grinding his teeth, muttering curses to himself. Whether he’s staring at her or the sky through his helmet, it doesn’t matter.

Aqua has the Defender at the edge of her fingertips, only needing to summon it. Xemnas stands there with his hands crossed behind him, watching as the ship leaves.

A roar thunders through the area, making the ground shake.

What looks like a dragon snakes through the sky. Compartmentalized into chunks that link together a long chain for a body, its purple and green and bears the Heartless symbol on its chest, just below its giant snout and metal fangs. It looks like a machine, something that can drill into a planet until it gets to its core. And then eats.

The weight of it. It’s like carrying a mountain on your shoulders. This thing is a cluster. A Heart of some world that died who knows how long ago, living again as a monster big enough to swallow a ship.

Xemnas readies his energy sabers but Aqua doesn’t take the bait. She turns on her heel and runs.

Vanitas conjures his Keyblade and follows her. She dodges one of his blasts that comes up behind her. Throws herself off the nearest cliff to thwart him off of her trail. He actually stops to gawk at how she summons Stormfall. She commands it to convert it into her glider so she has something solid to land on.

She takes flight, past the barrier that tries to pull her back to Castle Oblivion, but when she keeps momentum, it lets her go out into deep space. The gummi ship is traversing an area full of them, all of these destroyed worlds, all pieces of earth that Aqua can take a whole day exploring. The monster dragon is huge, weaving around abandoned rubble, its tail whipping into an asteroid and demolishing it into dust.

Its nose follows the gummi ship closely, as though it’s sniffing. It bares teeth.

“Sora!”

How ridiculous of her - he can’t hear her from the ship. She dislodges the handles of her glider, turning them over so she’s holding a bow as tall as her. With it, she shoots shards of light against the dragon.

The gummi ship bends into a tunnel inside a spinning asteroid - a wild, dangerous, stupid choice to make and she’ll have to lecture Sora about that later. It comes out of a different hole, now facing the dragon, joining the fight with torpedoes and laser beams.

The attacks burst when it makes contact with its skin (more like an armor), but it doesn’t leave any scarring. It doesn’t slow it down. Its roar is mechanical, as though it’s coming out of a speaker, sleeking over a boulder so it could chomp the ship directly.

Aqua grunts as she speeds up, coming up from underneath the dragon’s chin to knock its direction off-kilter. It misses the ship. Good, for now at least, since it swerves back so easily.

Whoever is maneuvering the ship (Aqua doesn’t know it’s Sora, but the way it jerks and gets cocky with taunting the dragon into following it reminds her so much of his fighting style) is making it tank around the perimeter, letting it get close to the dragon. If Sora wants to make a direct hit, he’s in a good position to do so.

The dragon roars again. This time, a beam of energy bubbles in its throat, twice the size of the ship. Sora readies torpedoes and throws shots into its mouth. But it doesn’t faze the dragon either.

They’re not going to survive this.

Sora understands. He dips below, the dragon tailing him with that beam still charging up for something catastrophic. Aqua tries zipping around its face, taking shots from her bow directly into its eyes, directly into its mouth in the hopes that it would combust its jaw open and stop the attack. Nothing happens. The dragon ignores her as though she’s just a fly bugging its face.

There’s one more option. Swooping high and higher, she swings over and looks down on the dragon. It opens its mouth wider as Sora barely pushes his speed.

She charges down, the Master’s Defender in her hand while her other grips on her handlebars. This is an extreme choice to make, a silly little sword against a dragon the size of an entire world. But she’s never known Master Eraqus to ever fail her. To ever show weakness, even in that one night when he received a letter about someone who disappeared due to the darkness. He cried. He stood up. And told her this was why they did the work they did. Use the anger and desperation to drive her forward until the end. She’s desperate right now, and she yells into her helmet as she gathers speed.

She cuts across the back of the dragon’s neck, where its definitive brain stem would have been. The dragon explodes - first from its mouth, light beams spurting out. Then in between each compartment that makes up the rest of its body, like volcanoes erupting, and tsunamis colliding, and earthquakes collapsing.

Pieces of it fall through deep space, new asteroids joining the rest of the waste.

But that burst from its mouth hit the gummi ship, which is now smoking from its left wing. Aqua’s glider isn’t big enough to save them.

All she can do is follow the way it falls, to trail behind it when gravity makes it faster than she can possibly catch up to, and watch the way Sora wheels it around obstacles and debris as he tries to control it even though he can’t.

Until it dives into a world that stands bright, a tall castle jutting out into a horizon. There’s a magic there that is protective. As though an invisible hand has grown out of its dirt, the gummi ship, with her friends inside, slows down, landing somewhere where the sunrise is just beginning.

#terraqua #aqua #sora #xemnas #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfic #sorry for the long wait!#my fic

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capricornus-rex · 3 years

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A Shadow of What You Used to Be (12)

Chapter 12: Fitting Into The Mould | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Requested by Anon

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: I am so sorry for the delays. A lot of things have taken toll of me. One of which is learning that one of my coworkers is positive with COVID and I just happen to be one of the few people he was with the day before he stopped going to work. So I am required to go into home quarantine, only went out once to do my testing but I haven’t gotten my results yet in the past 5 days which made me extra anxious, and my time out of work will not be paid even though it’s considered “Official Business” as per my company’s COVID policy. But so far, I’ve been fine, which is good. Then my PS4 is on the brink of death just when I started playing Ghost of Tsushima for the first time, but most of the people in my forums say it just needs a deep clean but I’m too scared to take it apart because I’ve never done that. I didn’t want to write while my head’s muddled with these thoughts, but only now did the anxiety subside. I hope you guys understand. I figured the story’s quality will go bad while I have such thoughts and feelings.

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 | Previous: Part 11 | Next: Part 13 | Masterlist

13 of ?

Irele had a kinder three weeks in Anathema than her first week in the Fortress.

As soon as her first day started, she’s required to march her way to the training dojo—to which she got lost in finding, no thanks to the crew working in this metal maze. She’s already feeling her breakfast burning in her stomach after jogging to the dojo, after so many failed attempts and subtle peeking over doors that are ajar, and saved herself from a first-day scolding at the expense of a slight stomach cramp.

Smoke plumed and framed along the walls, colored in blood-orange as the hydraulics and power coolants flowed and hissed underneath the grated floor. At the center of the room, a lone trooper—clad in the same, onyx black armor like the previous ones she saw—stood, with a weapon at the ready; his visage standing in the heart of the dojo gave off an intimidating air around him, as if untouchable, invincible.

Unwelcoming and strict, the instructor obviously to spend every minute wisely.

“Grab a weapon.”

Irele had noticed a rack at the far end of the room; picking up his mood from the moment she saw him, she briskly walked to the weapons rack, troubled herself for a minute on what to use, took a gulp and a breath before snatching the javelin.

She kept her eyes on her faceless teacher while she walked towards him, but her hands searched for the activation switch. The weapon crackled to life, purple lightning glowed Irele’s fair, small face, and she gazed at the cracks of light dancing at the end of the lance.

“Now…” the trooper poised himself in a defensive stance, after showing off a spin with his twin batons. “We begin.”

Irele is no brawler. The only time she ever fought someone or something was a Massiff that had been loosed by its Tusken Raider owner, probably sent out to find and hunt down prey—and that was two years ago, she had shuffled her way out of that situation with a scraped forearm.

Of course, her attacks are flimsy and somewhat limp-looking to the instructor—who had been training a lifetime for combat. The trooper would retaliate with a heavier strike, tenfold from Irele’s power, and would reset his stance for another attack; whereas Irele would still be finding her footing after she’d been staggered.

“This is pathetic!” barked the trooper, relaxing his posture and twirls the left baton. “Put some back into it!”

The poor girl cannot talk back, no matter how much she wanted to. For every time she was staggered or pushed back, she could only coerce herself to poise into a somewhat satisfactory attack stance and get another shot—only to be denied.

This entire session felt like hours on end. Irele could barely notice any progress in herself, except the frustration, disappointment, and boredom all mixing together within the trooper as this day goes on. Whenever he was not satisfied, he would berate the girl—to which he thought would negatively motivate her to attack him more strongly.

Meanwhile, in the confinements of his chamber, Darth Vader watches over Irele’s performance virtually and in real-time. Hidden cameras were all over the dojo, and every feed was relayed to the Vader in his chamber. Screens panned across the half of the circular shell, he could see Irele versus the trooper exchange blows, although he kept his eyes on the girl—his young ward.

He could have sworn he feels something in her. At this time, Irele was beginning to grow exhausted and eager to finish this—she just doesn’t know how to.

“Come on, little girl, put some back into it!” her instructor growled. “I could’ve done better things than this today!”

Thinking that he can just get this over with by defeating her in the spar, call it a day, and pick up where they’ve left off tomorrow—he charges at the girl who was still gaining her bearings after feeling the weight of the exhaustion get the best of her. At this time, Vader’s eyes remained on the girl, and secretly, he hoped something would come up.

Blinded by his lax arrogance, the trooper rushed towards Irele and raised his arms—both batons at the ready—and sprung up from the floor. Just when he thought he had landed a hit on the girl’s ribcage, Irele blocked it with her javelin at the very last minute.

Finally! The satisfaction of receiving the first step to a seemingly successful attack pattern flooded the girl with a newfound vigor. Irele pushed back the trooper while javelin and batons were still in contact with each other; little by little, her footwork was gradually becoming better, not by a lot, but it was preferable than her stumbling stupor a while ago, there was balance and there was pacing. Clearly, her strikes were not as strong as the instructor had hoped, but they were getting somewhere and that’s enough.

“Your strikes still need work!”

“Don’t…! You…! Just…! Ever…! SHUT UP!?”

For every word Irele roared, a strike would follow.

Her attacks were nothing flashy, she was only using what she knows from Tatooine—one of the few fragment of her past life still clinging into her…

And now it’s being weaponized.

Vader shuffled slightly where he sits. The anger in Irele’s voice and words found their way through his thick hide of an armor—albeit virtually—the emotion was wholly familiar to him.

Anger.

Hate.

It’s something he knows well.

Perhaps too well.

He didn’t wait for the training to finish, he’s watched enough he thinks. With the touch of a button, the screens fold back into their metal hatches within the shell of the chamber; another prompted his seat to swivel so he faces the opening. He steps onto a black circular base, a white ring of light hums alive the moment his boot stepped on it and shifted all his weight on it as he positions himself kneeling.

A bust of his master buzzes into life, shrouded in black was a rather pale face, even in the blue rendition of the hologram, one could tell that his color was sickly and white-as-bone.

“Master…” Vader greeted.

The Emperor did not linger into the niceties. He had sensed that Vader was about to give word of his ward’s progress.

“Her training has begun then.”

“Yes, my master.”

“Her anger… she weaponizes them,” observed Palpatine. He slighted his head back. “I can feel it. Truly strong she is with the dark side of the Force.”

“It is a nature that she cannot seem to outgrow.”

“Good,” croaked the Emperor. “The kin of Skywalker will have no trace of virtue but the Sith!”

“And she will be our asset, my lord.”

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #fem oc #cal kestis x fem oc #cal kestis x fem oc fic #irele skywalker #cal kestis x irele skywalker #cal kestis x irele skywalker fic #force-sensitive! OC #anakin's younger sister #skywalker! oc #darth vader's secret apprentice #long-lost sibling #anon fic #anon request #anon fic request #fic request #anon #for anon

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galactic-magick · 4 years

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Not So Different: Virgil x Reader

Request: Can I get uhh new side (Pride?) Who is female and everyone is surprised and it's virgil x reader and lots of him being jealous even tho u aren't together and angst and him being the big spoon and stuff ty mwah (sorry if this is badly written I'm going on 1 hours of sleep in the past 2 days hahaha okay - @hhh-angels

Summary: You are Thomas’s prideful side, and you immediately bond with Roman for obvious reasons. Virgil doesn’t like that very much…

Words: 1400+

Warnings: angst, jealousy

Author’s Notes: I hope you like this! There’s a few time-skips cuz I wanted it to be kinda slow-burn and build up the angst lol. (Also I’d just like to say there is no Roman hate here! He’s kinda viewed as the bad guy in this but I promise I love him plz don’t come after me)

“Hi!” you pop up next to Roman, waving to Thomas. Everyone jumps, but you’re so happy to actually be here that you don’t mind their intense reaction. Deceit’s done a great job at hiding you for years, and you’re finally getting to reveal your existence.

You represent Thomas’s pride. You’re not really either a light or dark side, since pride can be used in so many different ways. Pride can be used for good, such as when Thomas is confident in his achievements, ideas, and sexuality. But if it gets too strong, it can become an issue. Excessive pride can lead to being self-absorbed, insensitive, and arrogant, and unfortunately that may be the reason you’re here.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Thomas asks.

“I’m your pride!” you grin. “But you can just call be Y/N,”

Roman looks you up and down, “But, why are you-?”

“A girl? I just felt like presenting myself this way. Do you need me to change?”

“No, no, of course not! We can sing Disney duets together!” You and Roman immediately start singing “A Whole New World.”

Virgil rolls his eyes.

Thomas stares in disbelief, “I’m still confused, why are you here? Where did you come from?”

“You tell me, Thomas,” you laugh, continuing to sing with Roman.

“Did you guys know about her?”

“Not particularly, no,” Logan and the other sides shake their heads.

“Virgil? Is she another dark side?”

“Not exactly,” he sighs. “But I- I should’ve been able to stop her,”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why, Virgil?” your singing stops and you meet his gaze.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to balance out Thomas’s ego with self-consciousness and insecurity,”

“Who needs that,” Roman scoffs.

“Actually, he does need it,” Logan corrects, pulling up a chart. “Think of it as a modified Yerkes-Dodson curve. With anxiety, one side of the extreme is complete carelessness, and the other is full-on panic. With pride, one side would be self-loathing, and the other would be narcissism. Ideally, everyone should be in the middle, having confidence in yourself but not so much that you become ignorant or put others down,”

“Is she here because…I’m on the second side?”

“Oh no…” Patton mumbles.

“Nonsense! I see nothing wrong with Y/N being here,” Roman objects, draping an arm around your shoulders. Virgil cringes a bit.

“Technically, Roman is correct,” Logan admits hesitantly. “As long as you don’t listen to her excessively, nothing detrimental will come of her presence,”

“Okay…” Thomas exhales.

“Her getting too close to Roman is what you really need to worry about,” Virgil grumbles.

“Hey! I thought you guys were past this?”

“Maybe not,”

“Well fine, Virgil, we’ll go if you have such a big problem with us,” Roman sneers, taking your hand and sinking down.

Over the next few weeks, you and Roman have become best friends. You’ve written approximately 15 musicals together now, sung every single Disney song multiple times, and have brainstormed millions of ideas on how to help Thomas achieve his dreams in the most extravagant way possible.

“I don’t know how much longer I can take this obnoxious behavior,” Logan closes his book and slams it on the table. You and Roman are very loudly reenacting Hamilton in his room at the moment, and the noise is filling the entire mind palace.

“They’re just having fun, Logan!” Patton shrugs, playing some Go Fish with Virgil.

“Come on, Patton, you know Roman’s just going to corrupt her,” Virgil groans.

“Now, Virgil, I may have had my doubts before but there’s no need to be mean,”

“I’ve had it,” Logan stands up and stomps over to Roman’s door. “CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME PEACE AND QUIET FOR THIRTY MINUTES?!”

With that, no one so much as breathes loudly for the rest of the day.

It’s probably way past midnight now, but you still can’t sleep. You head to the kitchen to grab a snack, jumping when you see Virgil there as well.

“What are you doing here?” you shriek.

“I could ask you the same thing,”

“I suppose so,” you grin, hoisting yourself up to sit on the counter. “I guess I wouldn’t mind the company,”

“I usually come down here to be alone,”

“Look, I know you hate me, but you could just kindly ask me to leave,”

“I don’t hate you,”

“You don’t?”

“No!” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Are you really so self-absorbed that you think if people aren’t all over you they hate you?”

“Excuse me?” you shoot back. “I’m pretty sure you directly said you didn’t want me around!”

“I did not say that. I said you need to be under control, and teaming up with Roman is not going to help that,”

“What’s wrong with Roman?”

“Can’t you see he’s using you? He only likes you because you’re so similar and you can sing princess songs with him!”

“And how is that bad, exactly?” you retaliate. “He’s the only one who’s been nice to me since I got here, so sorry if my choice in friends isn’t to your standards,”

“It’s just-“

“You know what, Virgil? I really thought we would get along. We both have the capacity for good and evil, and we both help to balance Thomas out. We have a lot more in common than you think,” you slide off the counter and walk out.

You and Virgil don’t speak for a while after that. Not that you talked a lot before, but that fight really solidified things. You can’t even make eye contact with each other, it’s like you’re not even there.

Roman keeps asking you what’s wrong, but you just shrug him off. How are you supposed to tell him that he’s part of the problem? That maybe if you weren’t so close, Virgil would consider talking to you?

You never meant any harm when you revealed yourself. You really thought you’d be able to get along with all the sides, but it seems that Roman’s the only one who celebrates who you are. Logan barely tolerates you, and that’s only when you’re not being obnoxious with Roman. Patton’s alright with you, but he gets a little jittery if you suggest anything that compromises his morals. And then there’s Virgil, and you know how that’s going.

You don’t really feel like you have to apologize, it’s not in your nature anyway, but you’re sick of having to avoid him all the time now. You need to talk to him again whether he likes it or not.

You swing open the door to his room without knocking and sit on the bed, “Hi,”

“Is privacy just something you don’t understand?”

“It appears so,” you laugh. “Look Virgil, I know you’re mad at me, and honestly I’m mad at you too, but I don’t want to be anymore,” You take a deep breath, “I like you. I wish we had a better start, but I’m willing to start over,”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” you scoot closer to him. “And I told Roman to leave us alone for the rest of the day, so don’t worry about him,”

“You didn’t have to do that,”

“I know I didn’t. But I did. So do you want to hang out or not?”

“I guess so-“ before he can finish, you grab his hand and drag him out of his room to the main area of the mind palace.

“You pick a movie, I’m gonna go steal some of Patton’s cookies,” Virgil watches you, stunned, before flopping on the couch and scrolling through the selection. He starts one as you sit down next to him, handing him some cookies.

“Just want to make sure, you actually want to hang out with me?”

“Yes, Virgil. If I didn’t I wouldn’t have asked,” you drape a blanket over the two of you and settle in.

As the movie goes on, you subconsciously rest your head on his shoulder. He stiffens immediately and you jerk back up.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-“

“N-no, it’s fine,” he releases his breath. “I’m just…not used to people doing that,”

By the time the movie’s over, you’re fully asleep and Virgil freezes again, unsure what to do. Should he carry you to your room? Leave you here to sleep? Wake you up?

He slowly wraps his arms around your waist and lies down with you, being careful not to make any sudden movements. Despite his efforts, you squirm a bit in your sleep, but thankfully you don’t open your eyes. He fits his chin in the crook of your neck and dozes off himself.

He knows you didn’t have to give him a second chance, but you did. You were right, you weren’t so different after all, and he’ll always be thankful for the opportunity to be something more to you.

#virgil sanders x reader #virgil sanders #sanders sides x reader #sanders sides #thomas sanders

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closer-stars · 4 years

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Meet Me in The Middle

Member: Wooyoung Genre: Fluff to Angst Requested: Yes, Anon requested a prompt with Wooyoung so here it is Word Count: A lot. Sorry i didn’t check the word count LOL Content: Failed relationships. Two different coins that is. Trying and trying but it just doesn’t succeed. Will there be a next time? Patience and plans. Female reader (though i rarely use she/her and more of you/they). Implied cheating. Life just really sucks sometimes ykno. Note: Another shot at angst. I really tried.... pls. #PentUpThoughts. The way I asked for votes and it’s 1:1... then I had to flip a coin for the title HAHA.

You love red.

The way the color makes you feel powerful and confident. The way the color suits you so well it brings out your best features. It was rare for you to not have something red on you. If you didn’t, you felt weird.

For many, you’re stubborn. You see things through with a game plan. You always had a plan when something comes up. People have started to respect you for that, some even intimidated by how you’re able to come up with answer to anything. Even if you don’t get the acceptance from your parents for the choices you’ve made in your life, you put on a strong face and push through. You’re a strong one, even at the face of near impossible adversity, you manage to pull through, just as long as you had a plan. You had too much to risk for you to not move without a plan.

So how did you come across a man who would make you question everything?

Wooyoung’s hardheaded. People are intimidated of him more than they respected him. Was he bothered by how people talk about him? Not at all. Even if his parents wonder where they went wrong with him, he continues to live. He doesn’t mind it, in fact he likes it. It’s more reason for him to prove them wrong. Despite all the assumptions about him, he lives freely. He lives with no regrets. Even if he wasn’t someone who always had a game plan, things just seem to fall into place for him. He’s lucky like that.

So how did he come across her who would make him think carefully?

Neither of you could answer the question of how did one fall for the other. Neither of you could answer either how both of you met. Somehow, it just happened. It starts with a hi and hello. It always does.

The greetings become small talk. He starts to notice your small habits, nervous twiddling of your fingers, the shy brushing through your hair. You notice his habits too, the way his nose crinkles in amusement, the way his eyes look so easy to understand. It’s here when the awkwardness slowly dissipates to make room for warmth.

The small talk become idle chatting. You discover his interest in performing, his desire to sing on stage. He discovers your interest in creating things, your desire to tell stories. It’s here when he starts to look forward to talking to you, to hearing your voice. It’s here when you start to find a little bit of happiness in your everyday life.

The idle chatting become late night talks. He realizes your need to be accepted, your fear of rejection. You realize his need to find a place in this world, his fear of a never ending tunnel. It’s here when you see him beyond his loud mannerisms and fast paced life. It’s here when he sees the you behind your red lipsticks and red heels.

The late night talks eventually become confessions. Both feeling their hearts flutter from the exchanged words.

“Wait what?! When?” He exclaims, tackling you into his arms.

“News flash, asshole! I’ve been in love with you the entire time.” You giggle against his shoulder.

In retaliation, he tickles your sides, His heart soaring high at your words and at your soft giggles as you try to inch away from him. “Good, cause God you got me wrapped around your finger.” He mumbles against your skin, too elated to do anything but to hug you tighter to his frame. Hugging you so close it was as if he was scared to lose you.

Through the happiness of the confessions there was still a catch. He understood how your parents have made you someone so cautious, so careful as you move through life. You told him to wait. To wait until you had a game plan because you feared your parents. As he waits, he still courts you, wants you to be sure that he’s the one for you. He makes you feel secure, more secure than you ever thought with yourself. You make him patient, and he starts to see how much he missed from moving at full speed through life. He hopes you accept him in the end.

Months pass by and both of you start to notice the small improvements in yourselves. You were taking small risks one by one, occasionally taking the chance to go against your game plan. More often than not, the detour leads to better results. You could understand why he lives his life the way he does. Your friends notice how you aren’t as uptight anymore, letting them have their way. They notice how you let yourself just be and for once they hope you got yourself a guy who has balanced you well.

He starts to slow down, thinking his options more thoroughly. It’s only after he stops that the results are better. He starts to understand why you’re careful. Eventually, to your circle of friends, they see just how happy he makes you be. They think he might be the one to release you from your cage. His circle of friends see how he’s become a lot more understanding. They think you might be the one who can reign him in.

“When will you tell them?”

That question always makes your heart sink. You always tell him when the time is right. It’s hard. How can you tell your parents of your interest in him when everything you do is met with pointed gazes and disappointed sighs? He understands and drops the topic, going back to asking for more cuddles while you busied yourself with a proposal for your work.

Things quieted down for a while.

You should’ve known it was the calm before the storm.

You didn’t mean to. His phone was turned up, and his messages light his phone up.

‘It’s been awhile, how have you been? I miss you.’

You know that name. One of his exes, if you remember correctly from his stories of failed relationships. It makes your heart sink as your eyes lay unmoving on the phone, not even when it dims down from the lack of attention. It’s only when you hear him get back that you busy yourself with your phone. Doubt clouds your mind. You hate how lost you feel now.

That’s the thing with looking at life with glasses the shades of red; the red flags look like roses in a field.

Even when you had his undivided attention, you start to wonder if his heart was with someone else this entire time. It’s in your alone time that your uncertainties wrack your brain, you want to shut them out but you can’t. You feel powerless to all the doubts and questions in your head, fueled only by the want to be someone your parents can be proud of. You’re frozen in place, unable to break yourself out of your head, not even when Wooyoung’s message lights up your phone. You manage to open it but you can’t get yourself to reply. By the time your head clears, you’ve fallen asleep.

“Why didn’t you reply?” He whines softly.

“I’m sorry, I got too caught up with my work.” You still felt scared to let him know of how bad your thoughts destroy you when you’re alone. You didn’t want to scare him away with your baggage that you try so hard to fix as you try to better yourself. For once, you try to better yourself not only for yourself but also for him.

“You know I don’t like being left on read.” He reminds you with a frown. He’s made it clear early on how being left on read was a pet peeve. You didn’t want to see him angry. If you had to see him angry, you would have to find a way to calm him down. How do you calm someone down who you rarely see get angry? You were too tired to shoot something in return so you just nod and hum, leaning your head against the cool wall as you wait for your food to arrive.

Time is running out. He asks again when will you tell your parents. He’s growing impatient again. He tries to understand. You can’t blame him. Both of you try to keep the topic of your family dynamics out of your conversations. So you tell him.

“Two months.” No explanation to what you plan to do, no room for questions. He tilts your chin to look at him in the eye. He wants to see no flickering of confidence in your eyes. He’s getting impatient, you could see from how his forehead wrinkles as he gazes into your eyes. You don’t fail to catch the way his eyes snap to your lips, the way his breath tickles your skin, how you can practically taste the milk tea on his lips. With a millisecond to spare, you turn your face back to the laptop screen.

Even on social media, you notice how close he still is to his exes. It’s hard not to ignore the weighted messages the exes send him, that he replies to with ease.

“You know, I’m scared she might steal you from me.” You confess veiling your fear with a laughing emoji.

He looks at your message weirdly. “No one’s going to steal me from you, you know that right?”

You stare at his message, somehow unable to believe it.

“No one else but you. You’re the only one I want and if I have to wait forever, I will.”

You wish you didn’t see him post a photo of him drinking with ex.

You still push on, quitting wasn’t an option.

--------

Those two months never come. Your parents catch you with him, asking you as to why you would choose to date someone like him. “Mom, listen--” you couldn’t get another word out when you feel a palm against your cheek. You gently press against the sting, you couldn’t see anything anymore, much less hear what they were yelling about. All you saw was red. Your eyes dim into a steely gaze, directed at both him and your parents. “Leave.” The statement catching everyone off guard.

“Excuse me? Don’t talk to your own parents like that!” Your mom exclaims.

“Both of you stopped becoming my parents the day you chose to berate my choices in life and compare me to my cousins.” You snap back. Your tone cold and piercing, it leaves the three of them in shock.

“Hey..” He tries to get you back to reality. He calls for your name gently, reaching out to you but the way you look at him has him stopping in his tracks.

“Get out of my sight.” You hiss. You return your gaze to the two people who have made you so fearful, so weak, so lost. “Fuck you.” You state, the lack of emotion in your voice makes his blood run cold. What he had done behind your back along with your parents had tipped you over the edge. Without another word to the three, you leave the premises.

For once, he regrets not waiting a little longer. He watches you leave, unable to stop you, and just like that you were out of his eyesight. The shock on your parents’s faces makes him clench his jaw. He doesn’t bother to give them a word and instead runs out of the restaurant, in hopes of being able to catch you. When he sees the amount of people that’s when he realizes he’s lost you.

People say love stories start with a hi, but no one tells you how they end.

----------

Within the next few weeks, you pack everything you own, to live somewhere away from their reach. You’ve arranged everything to make sure they were not to contact you unless it was an emergency and even then you will decide if it is indeed an emergency. Your eyes scan your new home, plain and spacious, just waiting for it to be sprinkled with your personality. It’s a hope for something new.

You look at yourself in the mirror. Nothing about you seemed to fit what red was anymore to you. You change your red shirt for a blue button up and look at yourself in the mirror once again. It suits you. A much needed change.

You just couldn’t look at red the same.

Eventually you’ve taken up a different style. A different color. Blue. A reminder to take things one step at a time. You’ve calmed down, though still headstrong and opinionated, you started to choose your battles. Even with the change, you still had your red lipstick: a reminder of your passion, your strength even if it has been tamed by the comforting blue.

In those same weeks, he hoped to see you in his notifications: a message, a tweet, a like, anything as long as it was from you. His eyes drag across the screen of his phone, his free hand scrolling through his timeline. He wonders how you’ve been. Your profile still on his screen as he wonders what you’re up to now.

“What’s wrong?” She asks and it makes him tear his eyes away from his phone to the new girl in his arms. She catches the way his forehead wrinkles from frustration but she says nothing.

He keeps his phone away then shakes his head, brushing his lips against her temple. “Nothing babe. You know how the guys can be.” It’s a lie. He despises himself for lying so easily, so quickly. He was hoping to see a message from you even if he has someone else in his arms. He returns his attention to her, tickling her skin with the tip of his nose. For a moment, her laughter brings a smile to his face but it doesn’t make his stomach go through that funny feeling you do to him. She just wasn’t you, no matter how hard he tried to give her the love he had for you to her, it just wasn’t enough.

Will it ever be?

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

Once everything has been settled into your new home with the help of your friends that they suggest that all of you go out for dinner, just to get your mind off from everything that has happened. You don’t decline it anymore. You let them call the shots for the night, just as long as you get back sober. You didn’t want to stay up tonight missing the sound of his voice, reminiscing about how warm it was to be in his arms.

You still don’t have the heart to delete all the photos and videos you’ve kept from your time with him. Eventually you will, but for now, you’ll heal slowly with the help of your friends.

It’s still a mystery, how you fell for someone that made you approach life in ways you didn’t expect. You ask yourself too, what made him fall for someone like you. For now, you’ll leave that question up in the air, you want to live in the moment at least for tonight.

You didn’t expect yourself to laugh without a care in the world as your friends updated you in the latest gossip and news in their lives. Your friends remember how broken you looked after that day, puffy eyes, flushed glossy cheeks, dark eye bags. Compared to now, your cheeks are flushed and sore from the smiles, your eyes shut tightly as you try to hold in a laugh. While your break up hit you heavier than they expected, it made you stronger, a little better. They notice how stress wasn’t apparent in your features anymore. You genuinely seemed like you were in a better place now. As better as it could be even without him.

Wooyoung hears something he didn’t expect to hear, much to the surprise of the boys as well. They watch him look around until he found what he’s been looking for. You. You’re with your friends, laughing, and smiling. He finds himself smiling at the sight of you, relieved to see you back on your feet, wistful to wish that the smile was for him. He catches sight of how you gaze at the waiter, how your friends nudge you playfully, how you shake your head at whatever they were telling you. He’s relieved to see you smiling again.

He notices the change, you weren’t wearing anything red anymore. Even though you aren’t in your signature red look, your lips still wear that shade that makes him unable to move. You look a lot better, lighter even. He wonders how have you been. Have you moved on from him? Without another thought, he takes the risk of sending you a message. He pretends to go back to his meal, watching you, hoping you receive his message. It’s how your still red lips are caught in between your teeth, how your eyes scan the area that he uses his friend’s as a cover, that lets him know you still have his number.

“That’s her isn’t it?” His friend, Yeosang quips before managing to fit a wrap into his mouth. Wooyoung turns his attention to him, failing to see that you’ve caught him.

“Yeah..” he mumbles, trailing off. The way you looked at the waiter makes him think you that you may have moved on. Maybe him waiting for you was futile in the end after all. This entire time, he’s got another girl in his arms, calling her his girlfriend, yet his heart still has you. Why can’t he let go of you? It’s a question that makes him brush through his hair in frustration.

He never got to apologize for drinking with his ex. Even if Yeosang had told him that what he’s doing was a bad idea, he still went for it. Old habits die hard, after all.

Some of your friends catch the way your eyes look. It’s a look they’ve come to know fairly well and one of them tries their best to look around without causing a scene. “He’s here.” She mumbles to your friends and it’s what snaps you out of your reverie. One of your friends immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his frame. They’ll do everything to make sure he doesn’t approach you, not while your wounds are still fresh. They don’t know about his text message either, you kept your phone in your bag after you realized who it came from.

“Hey hey.” Your friend says, stealing your attention from the guy that hurt you. “Ah.” He says, making you repeat what he says before feeding you with pork neck. It’s when you eat the offered meat that he ruffles your hair and lets you go, soft laughter slipping through.

Wooyoung wishes it was him instead feeding you. He finishes the rest of his meal quietly, waiting for the rest of his friends to finish as well. He wants to get out of the restaurant fast, to see you with a potential partner, someone that seems to fit your parents’s standards hurts him more than he’d like to admit. His ears are with his friends but his eyes and mind are on you.

It takes a while for you to realize that he dyed his hair once more. The last time you saw him, it was platinum blond. This time his hair has turned purple and for a moment it takes your breath away. The new look makes it hard for you to look away. No one knows that the two of you have been staring at each other, taking in the new look the other has. No one knows that the two of you are falling for each other again.

Even though, he’s hurt you, you still harbor some feelings for him. Would you be able to give him another chance? You weren’t sure. This was a field where game plans don’t matter. This is a field that requires you to think fast, where having no plan is a good enough plan. You take this chance to pay for the bill, after all you just got promoted. None of you expected your hand to move so fast, snatching the bill from your friend’s hands, immediately making your way to the cashier, away from how Wooyoung was making your heart rush in ways you could barely control.

He takes this chance too, to pay for everyone’s meal, much to the delight of his friends. Yeosang knew the reasoning and for once he’ll sit back. There are things in life that no advice can teach that only experience can. He has the bill in his hand and follows you to the cashier.

It’s when you spin on your heel to make your way back to your table that you bump onto someone’s chest. His chest. Out of fear, you don’t dare to look up and instead force your eyes to stay downcast as you head back. His arm blocks your way, his free hand then handing his bill to the staff behind the cashier.

“Can I ask for some time from you?”

“I don’t think I have time for this.”

“Please, just hear me out.”

“Please leave me alone. You can’t expect another reckless chance after everything.”

That alone is enough of an answer for him to drop his arm. Once you see your opening, you dash out of his eyesight. It’s when he gets back to his table that he sees you and your friends are already gone. He doesn’t know where you went this time.

Your group stays in a bar for the next few hours. The place is filled with mellow giggling, buzzed chatters, soft music and dim lighting. It takes a while until the alcohol hits you. Once the alcohol hits you, so does the answer.

Maybe you fell for him because he reminded you of red. The shades of red that you wish to be but couldn’t. The red that’s fearless, steadfast, quick. He made you look at life with a little more vigor. He’s definitely taught you a few things you would have never thought you’d learn.

God you just want to go home.

Wooyoung reaches his place, throwing his shoes somewhere behind him as he’s back in his thoughts. Could he really do this to you and to his current lover? He looks first at his girlfriend’s profile then looks out the window, wondering where are you now. If he could take back what he’s done, he would. But to go back means the present will change. If he went back to that moment, would the two of you be together?

The male realizes how you remind him of blue. The shade of blue that reminds him to stay steady, calm, to slow down. You’ve made him look at life as something that should be cherished rather than to speed through the chapters he hated. You’ve taught him things he never expected to learn.

Maybe he’s meant to teach you a lesson, rather than being meant for you. Maybe you were meant for him, rather than being a lesson for him.

No one has taught you that it’s okay to be both. That it just might be better to be both than to be either one or the other.

A profile’s follower count went down by one that night. The photos and videos still safe in their phone, their number still saved. They didn’t have the heart to forget.

For now both of you will continue to live through life. Until the time comes that both of you can look at each other again and maybe, just maybe, take that risk to try again.

#ateez angst #wooyoung angst #ateez scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #ateez x reader #my writings #wow angst from me??? who is she #sorry wooyoung #ateez wooyoung

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btswishes · 4 years

Text

What we were and what we are

One Shot/ Random

A/N: Take it as an emotional dump. I will put a keep readying line since I don’t think anyone would want to read this. XD Have fun anyways if you wish to stay friend. Who knows maybe it could be a Yoongi x Reader , friends to lovers story, idk.

Word count: 2,535

Playlist recommended for this : Jin-Epiphany Big Bang- Loser Big Bang- Blue at the end you can try BTS- We Are Bulletproof The Eternal

Warnings: dark, anxiety, talk of trauma , be yourself please

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

The sky was covered with soft cotton candy like clouds, tinted in the colors of the ending day. Oranges, reds, blues, yellows, you name it it was there. The wind was warm and but a whispering tender sensation over your exposed skin. The grass pillowing your body under the roughly placed cover, as your head moved up and down by Yoongi’s breath. Laying onto him felt like a antidepressant pill to you.Time had stopped. He was leaning onto his left arm as you both were looking up at the sky. His free hand from time to time brushing over your hair.

“Your mom is calling.” he said taking a glance at your lit up phone screen

“Leave it.” you didn’t even use all the breath in your lungs with this sentence.

“Shouldn’t you pick up tho? I mean she is your mom.” Yoongi’s eyes now focused onto you

“Nah man, she is probably mad at me for something. My mom or not, good or shitty relationship, no matter how much parents say ‘i understand you’ or ‘i was your age once too’ .It never works, telling them anything ends up being a pain in the ass later. Asking for help when you fuck up is the same.” you tried following a lonely cloud with the corner of your eye

“I guess them not accepting that something is wrong with their kids is a defense mechanism.”

“That fucks us up tho. Just because they want to lie to themselves to feel better, leaves their kids untreated and undiagnosed ,messing them up. Years of being bullied and not knowing why, can’t study even if they try, can’t be themselves. Such an easy solution, yet such a hard choice to make to take the first step.” you sighed as you spoke out, a bit of disappointment mixed in with your breath.

“Ha ha ha.” Yoongi laughed under his nose before laying back down

“The fuck did I say?” you cut him off, thinking the giggle was a bit displaced in this talk

“And when you take the first step? What then? The so called professionals lie to us too, give us chemistry and tell us all will be ok as they turn us into addicts to fake serotonin. Psychologists? The word comes from Greek meaning the study of the soul, yet those assholes look at us as bags of meat that you can stuff with pills. Yet we would do anything to get that drop of calmness, that feeling of being a bit happy for being alive right now. And when the effect passes? You want more and more, pill after pill, pharmacy after pharmacy. What difference is there between us people with anxiety and disorders and drug addicts? The medical degree probably.”

You smirked after his last words “ Not all doctors are bad, but you can feel how genuine they are, the rest are health merchants. I don’t think there was a difference in the first place. Drugs, alcohol, smoking fuck it, even sex, man. It’s all to fill that void with dopamine, serotonin and all the bio crap.”

“Isn’t that chemistry tho?”

“We learned it in biology class so it’s bio to me. Do I look like a professor to you?” you rolled over and flicked his nose earning a ‘yah!’ “Hey.”

“Wasup?” Yoongi pulled his hand from under his head and spread his arms wide like a star in the vast sky.

“You know that thing where people ask you, if you saw your younger self in front of you right now and they were having the same feelings as you. What would you do?”

“I don’t know honestly, probably give the little guy a hug and some money ,or buy him something to eat. Someone out there for sure has it shittier than me, but I guess one of my mistakes was to undervalue my own emotions and mental state. Fuck, i got myself in such a hole. When people say ‘after you hit the bottom there is no where more to go but up’ , honestly that is straight up crap and bullshit. Some of us keep clawing and digging fearing that there is more to come. “

“Ah.” a memory popped up in your head on it’s own “That shit hole. Yeah, either you lose yourself laying there with bloody fingernails and hands, or you start crawling back up like a bug. You know, the blood is gonna stain the walls so next time you fall you will remember and catch yourself...if you make it that far.” lifting your hand, you covered a bit of the sky with it, noticing the colors around it “What about the times we reach out but no one grabs on?”

“Fuck! Y/N! We were supposed to have a nice walk in the park not a whole ass depressing talk session!” Yoongi hissed out, unlike his words his voice wasn’t angry

“Oh come on, you know that somehow we always end up talking about this shit.We are both broken pieces, but I think that isn’t bad at all.” you felt his breath stop under you for a split second “I feel like that is why we fit so well together.”

“Oh for real?” he asked a bit surprised by your words “I always thought it was because we were both hella toxic.” you swung your hand and hit him in the stomach “OOF!” he folded in half, sending you sitting up “I forgot how aggressive you were too.” Yoongi’s voice was coming from between his teeth.

“I am serious! I feel like we went through our hard times and learned to manage, that is why we can talk about all these things like this.”

“Makes sense, we were each other’s shoulder. You start falling, I pull on you and the other way around.”

You noticed the contagious smirk on his face that mirrored onto you almost instantly “We fall together, we crawl back up together. Damn we sound inspirational.”

“I told you! We should make one of those vlog channels where people wake up at 5 am looking like damn models, meditate and finish all their work before 11am.” throwing your body back you fell onto the cover, but Yoongi didn’t join you. He staid sitting, letting you focus on his back as he continued “You know we are losers, right?”

“The biggest losers out there.”

He looked towards the sky letting the wind play with his hair, when suddenly you both burst out laughing. Your voices were so loud the birds flew away. “Yeah, we are.”

“Honestly tho Yoongs. Why did we care so much what people thought of us? I mean sometimes I still do but-”

“Same, same.”

“Don’t cut me off stupid!” you kicked him a bit “As I was saying!” you emphasized on ‘saying’ ,when he pinched your leg in retaliation a couple of times “Body types, dudes, girls, genderfluid or no gender at all. Being cute or stylish, pretty or ugly, was a mad waste of time. The nerd is gonna probably become rich, the ugly people will end up becoming better lookin that those basic Karens. I swear, even with all that bulling and people wanting be to be the top. With or without them the Earth keeps spinning .”

“Did you just discriminate flat earth people!?” he gasped cartoonish “Y/N, i didn’t know you were this type of person.”

“Yah! You really out here trying to cancel your best friend, Min Yoongi!”

“You don’t need me to do that, you already do it yourself with the stuff you say.”

“Says you, loser.” your words made him lean onto his elbow next to you, eyes focused on your face as the colors of the sky began fading over your bodies and skin

“I like that word, loser.” he said “It sounds rude, but at the same time no one calls you that if you aren’t different. Different means unique, special. Who tf would want to be the same as others?”

“That was us too stupid, back then.” Yoongi pocked your cheek a couple of times gently

“Yeah, but it’s not back then anymore Y/N. It’s now. We grew up. With our jaw and fist clenched we fought and made it here. They shot at us, they threw rocks and called us cowards, weirdos. But we made it through the darkness. After all that we are and will forever be bulletproof.” the sudden rustle of the grass under you two signaled him getting up and spinning, hands to the side. His head leaned back and he looked so happy. Yoongi’s eyes were closed, he could fall and not even notice, but he wasn’t afraid no more. Whatever happens will happen.

“You make us sound hella dope man. I love it.”

“Anxiety, social issues, any kind of mental problems and disorders. They level us up, as long as we try. At the end of the day you lose something to win something.”

“The end of the chapter is the beginning of the next.” you began to notice he was starting to lose balance from all that spinning around “Hey stupid, you will fall and hurt yourself like th-” you couldn’t even finish the sentence when his legs tangled up and he fell onto you “You ok?!That was such a stupid move! Open your eyes next time!”

“Why?” he became serious, his eyes looking into yours. Yoongi crooked his head to the side,as his fingers caressed your cheek “If I was looking I would have been too afraid to fall. At the end of it all i ended up failing and found a little angel. See? Win win to me. You can’t always see where you are going, but you gotta believe that good things are on the other side.”

“You are bleeding, that is what is on this side.”

“I am WHAT!” his forehead was a bit scratched “Damn it! My handsome face!”

“Oh come on! Wait till I glow up like that! I will get the best looking SO out there.” the child in you was pouting at Yoongi

“You know damn well we are too messed up for a relationship with others. We try and try, get used and then we either lose interest, or fall completely out of love for months. By the way...” his fingers found your cheek again, but this time it wasn’t a gentle poke but a sharp pinch. Your hands flew in the direction of his arm to try and make him let go of you. “Who told you you don’t look good?”

“Ow ow Yoongi! Let me go!!!”

“Not until you tell me who said all that crap to you!?” prying yourself from his grip you continued rubbing the now red and warm spot

“People i liked or others in general. You know how shit goes.”

“You for real need to get your eyes checked! People stare at you when you walk by cus you look TOO good.” his words were like a low growl of a jealous pet

“Nah man, they are either judging me or they want to fight me. There is no middle ground here.”

“You really!” with all the power in his hand he flicked your forehead

“Stop inflicting me wounds!”

“Then stop talking shit about yourself! I swear your bodydismorphia needs to join Jimin when he has talk sessions about his day with Hoseok.Plus, people do stare at you when you walk in town in the attracted way. On our way here at least 5 people turned back and continued looking.”

“Ew creepy!” you said “Why do you count them!”

“You little!!!Come here!” your neck found itself in a chokehold in a matter of seconds

“HYUNG!”Jungkook’s voice echoed through the park reaching your direction “Y/N AND YOONGI ARE BEING THE DEPRESSED AND FLIRTY AGAIN!”

“This kid I swear I will kill him some time soon!” you hissed at Jungkook

“You two really can’t drop this habit.” the slow and calm footsteps pulled your attention and soon subsided your anger

“Joon, you know how we are.” you added, leaning back onto you elbows

“I know, we are all like that.” Joon looked at you two sitting on the ground

“Y/N is right, broken pieces do find each other.” Yoongi added, but Joon sighed and rubbed the back of his head. He squatted down eye level

“Broken pieces find each other because they fit together and make a beautiful new bottle that they can fill up with happy memories. Our sad and hard pasts make us titanium that can’t be broken. Even if one of us cracks, we are all going to help him become stronger.” he reached his hand out, standing up “ You are not alone Y/N, we are going to be forever titanium. You have us and we have you now. We are not lonely or misérables with you.”

“WE ARE BULLETPROOF GUYS!” Jungkook yelled out again

“Yeah...we are.” with a smile shining brighter than ever ,you grabbed Joon’s hand.He pulled you up as you were holding onto Yoongi. When the chain starts no one can cut the bond. We pull each other up...is what you realized.

“Oh and.”

“Yes Joons?”

“Can you two date already or at least go out on a date. It hurts looking at yall like this.”

“What!?” the blanket in your hand turned into weapon as you began hitting him with it in a moment of panic. His words hit a nerve.Yoongi wasn’t the one to rush or to run. With his hands in his pockets he followed you down the hill. His footsteps stopped for a moment to look at the now dark sky.

We may not be able to see the stars during the day, but at night they are too many to even count. Nothing is truly hidden forever, even who you are meant to be. It’s ok not to know now or later. When we are young we dont really know. We try to fit in a mold that was created, but we can’t, we just can’t no matter how much we try.

We end up being labeled by the things we are different. Some come from a darker past, others don’t. Yet everyone is important, the way they feel, their emotions and inner state. If I could, I would grab your hand and show you a bit of the future. Think of this, your future self, the one that did it all finally and continues to dream big, is looking at you through memories. They grab your hand and push you forward towards the good. The tunnel may be dark, cold, lonesome and scary but it always leads to something. Just don’t give up.

Regret, unsuccessful love, residual feelings for someone who used you. They are all a stepping stone, don’t look at them. Now you know what not to do, EXP( experience points) come in many forms honey. Be who you want to be, life is yours. Be the main character in your story, not anyone else’s. Even if you fall sometimes, show everyone how amazing you are by standing up. Baby steps turn into miles, whispers become yelling, crawling becomes flying. Breaking the mold becomes you.

#bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts text #bts texts #bts text scenario #bts text scenarios #bangtan scenario #bangtan scenarios #bangtan text scenarios #bangtan text scenario #bts x you #bts x reader #bangtan boys scenarios #bangtan boys fanfic #bangtan boys scenario #bts and you #bts with you #be yourself

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