#but the truth is barely anybody can tell you what happened after his death or how that affected his family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urgonnaneedabiggership · 1 year

Text

MASTERLIST

NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

A/N: Remember you can find this fanfic on AO3 right here. Any feedback and/or comments are greatly appreciated <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, just say so!

P.S. This would be his face when apologizing Your Honor you can't convince me otherwise.

Warnings: Somewhat graphic violence, mentions of weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 2177

After being summoned, Namora emerged from the cold water and activated her breathing device, heading inside her cousin’s usual hideout.

For once, he wasn’t painting. Now that she thought about it, he didn’t seem to feel like painting for a few days now.

“You called, K’uk’ulkan?” She greeted, instead finding him sitting at the table, staring thoughtfully at a bunch of scattered paper sheets in front of him.

“You did not report to me yesterday, or the day before that,” Namor admonished her, “Do you care to explain why?”

Namora didn’t immediately reply. Instead, she slowly walked toward him and sat next to him.

“Throughout my life, I have seen you confront several enemies and you were never afraid. You never backed down,”

Namor opened his mouth intending to correct her statement and remind her of a certain event not so long ago that, while she hated to even think about it, had happened. Of course, he was promptly cut off.

“Do not remind me,” She snapped, angrily lifting her extended palm. However, she sighed and begrudgingly nodded, “Almost never.”

Regaining her composture, the warrior took a deep breath and once again turned to face her cousin.

“Still, you never ran or hid from the Black Panther. And now you’re up here, hiding from a helpless human that just this week was strong enough to feed herself,”

“I already told you I am busy with these…”

“Ka woksaj óotik wáaj kolnáalen num?” She scolded him, “Weeks ago you were sleeping next to her k’áan to console her after a nightmare. For one week she was unconscious, fighting death, and not once you could so much as visit her. Tell me the truth, what really happened?”

“She happened,” Namor thundered, pounding up the table with his fist as he stood up, “Everything, from the very beginning, was nothing but a scheme to get me to let my guard down and escape, and it worked.”

Fuming, he marched to the other side of the room and pressed his forehead against one of the pictures depicted on the mural.

“She asked about my mother, Namora,” He said through gritted teeth, “I hadn’t truly reminisced about her for decades until that night. Some of the things I told her…I don’t think I had ever told anybody, and do you want to know why? Because I saw my own pain reflected in her eyes. I saw her as what I once was. A broken child with no clue of what to do next to recover the only unconditional love I ever knew.”

Without turning around, Namor started laughing. It was a painful, ironic laugh so quiet it was easy to misconstrue it as crying for a couple of seconds.

“The Panther was barely not a child anymore when I took her mother from her,” He mused, “I looked her in the eye right after, and whatever remorse I felt then is a shudder compared to the earthquake Mercedes’ cries for her father unleashed. And it was all a lie. You were right about her all along.”

“Is that why you saved her?” Namora cautiously asked, still processing the surge of information that had left his mouth.

“I abandoned her,” He continued, “I thought, if she wants to risk her life for her people so much, that’s not my battle to fight. My duty is to Talokan, not that world. I had to sink the ship and she wouldn’t yield, so I left her to fend for herself like she obviously wanted. By the time I decided to go back for her, they had already shot her. She nearly died because of me, and she knows it.”

Namor sighed and rested his back against the wall, covering his eyes with his hand. His cousin stared at him, pursing her lips thoughtfully. Namora approached him and maternally placed a hand on his shoulder. However, her voice was stern.

“Speaking as one of your people, I am glad I serve such a loyal leader,” She reassured him, “But while you were loyal to Talokan, you failed as an ally if that’s what you consider her to be. Even if your positions were different, she was asking little of you given the circumstances. You could have protected her, and I think you know the only reason why you left was because of your hurt pride.”

Namor remained silent, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully. Deep inside, as much as he loathed to admit it, he knew she was not entirely wrong. Yes, Talokan and his people were on his mind when he decided there wasn’t a real reason for him to remain on the ship, but he also wondered whether even then she was still trying to manipulate him. The mere thought enraged him enough to make a rushed decision.

“In a way, I guess I understand her,” Namora continued, “If I had been in her position, I would have done everything in my power to return to those I love, by whatever means necessary. That might be unpleasant, but my home…”

Suddenly, Namor’s expression shifted after she finished her last sentence, an idea descending on his mind and slowly taking shape. He could hear Namora still talking, but was now too busy mulling over this new thought. Finally, he stood up.

“I have to go. But thank you Namora, you were very helpful.” And without adding anything else, rushed back into the water, leaving a perplexed Namora alone, still sitting next to the mural. The warrior sighed and rested her head against the wall, her eyes closed as she silently prayed for the gods to give her enough tact to advise her leader without forgetting he was family, and enough wisdom to encourage her cousin without forgetting he was a leader.

Mercedes had received very basic hand-to-hand combat training. And sure, it had been exhausting at the time. Attuma’s training regime sometimes made her wish Namor had left her on the ship to die.

“Again,” He instructed severely. She circled him once more, searching for an opening in his defense like he had taught her to do. Normally, the enemy would be facing her and also moving in circles. The way he remained immobile was just a reminder of how easily he could deflect every one of her attempts no matter where they came from. A few times she had actually managed to surprise him and do as much as land a few strikes, but nothing more. This was one of those times. Mercedes made him think she would strike from the left, only to duck, dodge the forearm he intended to use to stop the blow, and hit him straight across the face, causing him to stumble and take a few steps back. The first time she had hit him in the face she had actually stopped and apologized profusely just to end up biting the dust for the millionth time. However, she was grateful he’d taken the approach of teaching her to fight someone whose only goal was to kill her with no trace of civility.

Fortunately, Mercedes took pride in always learning from her mistakes, so this time, after catching him off guard, she attempted to “stab” him with the wooden staff on his stomach, which would count as a fatal blow and her first victory… Unfortunately and despite his size, the Talokanil warrior was fast enough to catch the staff in his hands, disarm her and deliver the “fatal” strike.

“That was better. Try again.” He repeated.

“What’s the point in all of this?” Mercedes protested, “We’ve been here for hours every day, I’ve sprained muscles I didn’t even know I had and I haven’t been able to deliver more than three consecutive hits. It’s not like I’ll ever be able to defeat you, so why waste your time?”

“You’re right. You will never be able to defeat me, not with the strength of a human,” Attuma agreed, not in a smug or patronizing way, but as if he was stating a mere fact, “That’s not my goal here. You might not be able to beat even the weakest Talokanil, áatl. But when this ends, you might stand a chance against the strongest human.”

“Will I ever get a real weapon, at least?” Sadie asked, looking at the chipped wooden rod in her hand.

Before he could answer, Attuma spotted someone behind them.

“You can leave. We will continue tomorrow.”

“Already? It’s been only an hour…” Sadie started to object with renewed excitement after hearing about the abilities she could acquire if she followed through with her training.

“Áatl, il paach tech,” He muttered before his hands formed the traditional greeting.

Mercedes knew who was standing behind them without needing to turn around. She was almost afraid to do so. She had pictured what she’d do when she saw him again. Would she yell at him? Simply ignore him and keep walking? Say anything at all?

“Le k’a’abéet tuméen juntúul súutuko’,” He said to Attuma, who simply left the room after bowing his head. Mercedes could only watch helplessly as she was left alone with the man she’d dreaded to face for the past week.

It was only then that she dared to turn around. Neither of them spoke. They simply stared at each other across the empty room, eyes fixed on the other apprehensively.

“You acted bravely,” He finally broke the silence, “I wish we would have found that ship under different circumstances, but I underestimated you.”

Sadie inhaled and exhaled deeply, moving a bit closer to him and carefully placing the staff against the wall.

“And I wish escaping from here hadn’t been necessary,” She attempted to explain herself, “But I’m not sorry I tricked you. I did what I had to do to save my people.”

Namor smiled softly, looking down for a moment and shaking his head negatively.

“I think you’re lying again,” He muttered.

“What are you talking about?” The girl cautiously approached him, now standing less than ten feet away.

“You did not hesitate to put your life on the line. Not for one second. Something so selfless isn’t done with an entire world in mind. There’s always one person.”

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” Her back immediately went stiff, which was noticeable when she shrugged, her arms hugging her torso, “It was the right thing to do and…”

“What is it that you want to hide so much from me?”

“Why wouldn’t I hide it from you?” She replied sharply, “You’ve shown don’t give a shit about anything or anyone surface-related, you left me on that ship, and then you didn’t even bother to check on me.”

“I saw you freeze when that man spoke to you. I have never seen you more terrified,” Namor interjected, “What did he say?”

“Why didn’t you come to see me?”

“Did he threaten you?”

“Too much of a coward to face the consequences of your actions?”

“That is not true,”

“Then what was it? Enlighten me,”

“It depends. Was everything nothing but a piece of your plan all along? ”

His last question left her with no reply. It wasn’t until then that it dawned on her how easy it would be to assume every part of their interactions was nothing but the means to an end for her. The betrayal she’d felt on the ship, wondering whether she had been alone all along even when it hadn’t felt like it, knowing he’d unwittingly seen some of the most vulnerable parts of her just for him to discard her in the end.

But it was the pain in his voice he unsuccessfully tried to hide that truly rattled her.

“Kän-än,” She said, barely louder than a whisper, “Why did you do it?”

She didn’t really expect an answer, which made his reaction all the more bewildering. Namor closed the distance between them in two steps, grabbed her hand, and placed her hand on his chest, right next to his heart.

“I’m not lying, see for yourself,” Namor assured. His pulse was perfectly calm, steady. “Xmeech, I called you my friend and then put you through something unfairly cruel for what you did to me. I understand why you don’t trust me because I also have my doubts about you after what you did. I don't know if that weighs on you as much as it does on me, but I want to propose something.”

“I’m listening,” She said, clearing her throat, more to herself than to him. Counting the beats of his heart was surprisingly distracting.

"U jaajile',” He firmly stated, “No more lies. An alliance can’t be based on lies, and neither can a friendship.”

“Always. Even if it’s harsh, or not what we want to hear. The truth is the truth.” Mercedes added emphatically. Namor agreed.

“Where are we right now?” Sadie asked. Something easy to kick things off.

“It’s easier to show you. Come with me.”

Namor turned around and left the room, removing her hand from his chest after it fulfilled its purpose.

The Translations

Ka woksaj óotik wáaj kolnáalen num?: Do you think I'm stupid? Il paach tech: Look behind you Le k’a’abéet tuméen juntúul súutuko: I need her for a moment U jaajile': The truth

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

Text

Maybe there's still hope—. '

"Now.. Start from the very beginning."

'A small chance perhaps. '

"Tell me... exactly how you ended up and breathing— "

"—Uzumaki Boruto. "

6: Broken Destiny

"You're wrong."

Bastard.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I saw his expression change.

"I'm not the Hokage's son-"

I leaned closer to him as I spoke.

His attempts to keep a straight face were failing.

"-I'm not the one you're assuming me to be. "

His expression changed a bewildered to a dissapointed one.

And I..couldn't be more satisfied.

I wasn't lying . He could tell.

And I actually wasn't.

This... Wasn't my world.

Wherever this was.

I knew that from the very moment I opened my eyes.

Here.

It was far too peaceful to be the place I belonged to.

No destruction. No war. No smoke. No cries.

Nothing.

No shinobi coming after my life.

Or trying to abduct me for money.

I... Am a missing nin.

And I have a destiny.. A duty to fulfill.

A shinobi who attacked his people and tried to kill the Kage of his very own village.

Funny.

Cause in my was also my father.

And ever since then...I've been running away.

Running from my life. Though not from my destiny.

It had been utter shit from the very beginning anyway. Nothing has changed. So it doesn't matter either way.

Being sucked into the pool of eternal darkness.

And to top it off, hated by my own people.

What did I ever gained from walking the right path?

Nothing.

Just pure darkness was what I deserved. And that is what I received.

Chasing after them. Him.. All this time.

Only to end up being shoved away to my near death.

I never expected things to change this drastically.

Whom he barely knew.

It actually makes me laugh whenever I think about it.

He chose him over his own son.

Didn't even looked back. Funny.

As if I wasn't if I wasn't alive.

As if.. I didn't mattered.

They'll be relieved if I'm dead.

He and the remaining five kages. The elders, the council members,my friends, my family.

Everyone. They think I'm a threat.

I don't blame them though.

Still..It hurts.

I don't know why.

I've left behind my emotions long ago.

Unfortunately for them. For him-

I didn't die. I survived. Yet again.

Though even now I wished I would've died back then.

Its been years. Yet the pain is still the same.

Yet all I can do is run. Run and hide. Hide and run.

Its an endless cycle.

Sometimes I just want to give up. Sometimes I wish to end it all and be done with it.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't because the promise I made to my master, my shisho, holds me back.

Who... died because of me. Funny.

Another reason I deserved it. The hateful gazes. I didn't cared about anybody else though.

Atleast my friends understand me.

Heck, Mitsuki considered me his sun. He'll never leave me alone.

My team. They'll always support me.

But one look at her and it all crashed down.

Mitsuki was nowhere to be found. I didn't knew what was even happening.

That day.. I wished I would've died as well.

She came to console me. Right after that dreadful day.

A lot happened. I couldn't even recall much of it.

Words of encouragement and care left her mouth. She was smiling.

But her eyes...They were the opposite.

They reflected the whole truth. Everything.

She hated me.

More than anyone. I could see it. I could tell.

And I felt like my heart was crumbling. Breaking into thousand pieces.

One week later, Mitsuki returned. I was still in the hospital.

Though my injuries were far better, it was a way to keep continuous surveillance at me.

He didn't even spared a glance at me. Completely ignored me like air.

I didn't had the courage in me to call out to him.

I didn't had the courage to join the friendly reunions.

They were all gathered, embracing each other.

While I could do nothing but look through the window.

Look at them. Just like old times.

Though this time I didn't mattered. Funny.

I couldn't stand it.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to beg for her forgiveness. I would do anything. Just please.

Not you too.

Forgive me.

Though the words never left.

How could they. It was all my fault. I was ashamed of myself.

I couldn't endure it anymore and I was scared. Scared that they all hated me now.

That they all had the intent to kill me.. Hidden right behind their sad smiles.

Mitsuki. Shikadai. Inojin. Nii-chan.

Tou-san.. My dad.

No. He couldn't hate me.

My heart would never lie. He would come to me. For sure. He'll never leave me behind.

But why.. would he..?

I heard how Kawaki was finally a part of the official team 7.

Me on the other hand... Was robbed off my shinobi status whatsoever.

But. I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad.

It was... for everyone's sake. For my sake.

Right...?

Sarada lost her father. Sakura-san lost her husband. My father lost her wife and daughter.

And many.. Many more deaths.

I let it happen.

But I digress.

I couldn't help but feel insecure. Feel scared.

That any second and I would be stabbed right through by someone I loved. Someone I cared about.

To taint their pure hands with my dirty blood. To have them regret it all their lives.

Because I knew they would. I couldn't talk to anyone. I didn't deserved their attention.

Hence, I left. And never looked back.

A year passed.

I was fine though. Even if I had to hide. Change my appearance.

The blonde hair I was so proud of. Though I couldn't do anything about my eyes.

They reminded me of dad. Of Himawari.

Even though I had to sleep to my empty stomach.

Which always reminds me of mom. She would always make sure I had eaten enough.

She would've never let anyone hurt me. She.. was always there.

For me. For Himawari.

They were the only one's I had.

The only one's who'd never hate me no matter what I did.

Though now.. I was alone.

The ones sent to capture me always took more pleasure in hurting me, than taking me back.

And since every single hospital and medic shop was both out of my limits and budget.

I just had to endure the pain of whatever injury they left me with.

Luckily I always seem to find a way to escape. Which pisses them off more and more.

Hence their brutality increases everytime we meet again.

Dad.. knew everything. He was aware. He knew.

I always hoped he would come.

I waited for him.

I missed him. So much.

I just wanted to meet.. No.

At least see his face.

More than anything. Even if it had nothing but dissapointment written all over.

Cause I was a disgrace.

For a whole damn year, I waited for him.

He never came. To take me home.

Not to kill me. But to save me. To take me to that weird ramen store he loved so much.

To hug me tightly. And never let go.

But he never came.

Instead, sent his pesky little shinobis to catch me. To hurt me.

But I knew. He would've never wanted this. He would never let anyone hurt me.

He surely wouldn't allow anyone to hurt me let alone kill me.

He...Loved me. Didn't he?

Then why.. Why doesn't he come?

Yet, I didn't let my hopes die. I was his son afterall.

I waited .

Waited and waited.

Waited untill one day...it all snapped.

'Missing Nin-Boruto Uzumaki...

Shr ("eueu$ "'$$...-"

I couldn't recall.

What else was written in that notice pasted on the walls of almost every village.

"Needed.-

-Dead or alive. "

My heart crumbled once again.

For the last time.

My eyes couldn't believe it at first.

'sanctioned by- Hokage, Uzumaki Naruto'

My body went mad. I lost all the sanity I was left with.

I didn't knew. How it happened. I couldn't remember.

One moment I was in the land of waves.

And the other..I was outside the gates of that dreaded village.

My mind was dizzy. My memory was a blur.

My head hurt. My body hurt.

Though what pained me the most..was my heart.

The vague memory I could recall only including stuff like destroying the Hokage building.

'BORUTO STOP IT! '

Kami...

I had never experienced such immense power from my Karma before.

I didn't knew how it was happening .

Did somebody just say my name or something?

I don't know. I didn't care.

Next, everything went black again.

When my vision cleared again, I was walking over several bodies.

'Why...why.. WHY?!WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! '

I couldn't understand what they were saying .

Though I felt good. So very good.

Having the Hokage's throat in my hold.

"I.. "

And those were the last words I ever said to my father.

"I.. Hate you. -"

"-Hokage. "

My tears won't stop. I was happy. They were tears of happiness.

Right...?

My hand pierced his chest. He didn't say anything though.

He didn't had the tailed beast's chakra anymore. Hence he couldn't attack me.

But he didn't even tried to defend himself.

As if... As if he accepted this.

Why..?

Why else would he smile at me like that? He knew he was screwed.

The same smile he always showed me. Ever since I was young.

I felt my anger burning my body.

His eyes.

I couldn't see the fear I was yearning for.

He smiled and smiled. Untill the light finally left them.

The next moment. All my senses were coming back.

First my vision cleared. I registered everything around me.

My work here was done.

'BORUTO! '

Next... Came my hearing.

I turned back. My eyes still adjusting to the immense lightbin front of me.

Before I felt something drop inside me.

All of them. My friends. Every single one.

They stood in front of me. Their eyes held nothing but hate.

That was hate. Damn I was right from the very beginning.

She came forward.

Her face drenching with tears. Her sharingan had changed.

Though I didn't cared.

Kawaki held her back. I felt something drop inside me again.

What are you going to do? What CAN you do anymore?

Before they shared a look. I didn't knew what was going on between them all.

She turned to me again. I didn't said a word .

Before she smiled. Her eyes closing as more tears fell from them.

"Thank you... For everything."

I could feel the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Thanking me for all that I've done to her.

Cause I.. Gave her nothing but pain.

Gave them nothing but trouble.

Memories...

So many of them. Began playing in my head.

'I'll be your right hand man and guard you well dattebasa! '

Why...was I remembering that now of all times.. ?

'I want to become a shinobi like Sasuke-san!'

My eyes became moist.

More memories started flowing through me.

The first time we met.

'My name is Uzumaki Boruto.. Go ahead. Ask me anything dattebasa! '

Mitsuki...

My friends.

The days at the academy. When all we cared about were catching the ghosts of the village.

Shikadai bickering that it was all a drag. Mitsuki saying weird stuff.

Chocho munching and Inojin with his sharp tongue.

Sarada and me were always irritated. Couldn't even stand each others's presence.

Yet.. We cared. I knew she did.

But now that I realize.

It was only one sided.

I thought they all cared.

That they were always right beside me.

Like a rock. Unwavering and strong.

Then...why?

Why not now..? What changed it all?

What changed you all?

She waved some signs I knew too well.

I felt my body heating up suddenly.

" I...

...would never forgive you. "

Ahh. Finally. What I wanted to hear.

The truth.

"I hate Boruto. "

She said. As if all those memories meant nothing.

As if those things never happened.

Before I could even move, my body was suddenly covered in black flames.

My gaze landed on Mitsuki.

He was silent. So very silent. Not the usual calm one.

But a deadly hateful one. A dissapointed one.

And at that moment I'd realized.

Nothing can be fixed anymore. The deed has been done.

Those days would never return. I lost it. I lost them.

It was too late now.

"Amaterasu. "

Her cold voice sent shivers down my spine.

I was sure I'd never see her again.

See them again.

Tears streamed down my face again.

I looked at everyone's faces as my screams muffled under my sobs.

Though no sound came out if my mouth.

Why..?

Finally I was back to my senses completely.

But it was too late now. Too late.

Our eyes met.

Just for a second.

Before the realisation hit me.

"No.. "

Things finally came back to me.

Of what I had done.

'No. I didn't-I could never. NO NO NO NO! '

This time. Yet again.

I couldn't say it.

'Please... I - forgive m-'

Before my vision left me.

It was over. Everything was.. Over now.

I opened my eyes and didn't took me long to realize it.

I had somehow learned the infamous teleportation technique using my jougan.

I didn't moved from my spot.

For 5 straight days. I just stared at the sky. Doing nothing. Eating nothing. Drinking nothing.

Sleep never came to me. And I didn't cared anymore.

It was when the 6th day arrived. That I decided to forget it all.

I would never let another otsutsuki attack the shinobi world.

I would fight them till death.

I remembered my promise. It was the only thing that kept me going.

The only thing driving me to live.

And that's how I spent the next four years of my life.

Completely alone. I lived in the remote areas.

On the very outskirts of farthest lands of all the 5 great nations.

Where no one comes. No news from the outside world. Nothing.

If any Otsutsuki were to invade the planet. I would sense it with my jougan.

Hence not knowing anything didn't bothered me.

Whatever was happening in the village right now. In the 5 great nations right now.

I didn't knew anything. Neither do I care.

They think I'm dead. Atleast they're happy now that I'm gone.

Finally. I could live peacefully.

Though I spoke too soon.

Things changed. Yet again.

The night before I landed here. In this mysterious world.

Blinding light. So very bright. Not to my taste.

And before I could realize, it completely engulfed me.

Leaving no escape. Leaving no trace.

"And when I opened my eyes ,I was at the scientific ninja tool headquarters. That.. was a few days ago. "

Yeah. I needed atleast that much time to collect my thoughts.

I recited the whole tale to the sanin.

It was already dawn. The sun would rise in a matter of minutes.

"I spent some time gathering as much intel as I can . Though at last I found it wiser to visit you instead. "

I didn't tell him everything ofcourse.

The amaterasu...was changed to a fire blast I was somehow trapped in.

I completely removed the part of me killing-anyway.

I too came to know a lot about this place.

Most of them were the same. Just like in my world.

Though few were absolutely different. Infact.. The opposite.

Though the most interesting thing?

I was already dead here.

Apparently, killed by some rogues exactly 5 years ago.

How lucky.

I wish I would've born in this world instead.

There's no sign of Otsutsuki or Kara or Ishiki.

Not even Kawaki.

This world... Was peaceful.

Devoid of any potential threats.

This was heaven.

However, I didn't deserved this heaven.

I can't stay here. I needed to go back to the despair where I belonged to.

I needed to keep my promise till my last breath.

Yes. I needed to find a way. To get answers.

Before anyone could even find the trace of my existence here.

He took in the information I gave him before beginning with his weird talk.

Things like how interesting my story was to him.

How he could've never thought two worlds could collide this way.

His nonsense didn't stopped. I was getting impatient.

"Seems like you don't have anything to tell me afterall. "

He shot a look at me before turning to a drawer of his wierd lab.

"I would've minded my tone if I were you Kid. You're at my place. Completely alone ...and weak. "

I felt something snap in me. My hand automatically drawing out my sword.

"Just tell me if you know how to... How to fix rather you prefer to die? "

A sudden silence filled the room before he turned to me.

His eyes landed on my sword.

"The phenomenon that occurred to you is rather unheard of. "

And they shined. With nothing but interest.

Before he smirked again.

Damn.

He's the same old weird freak, like he was in my world.

"Although.. " He began yet again.

"I've surely heard about some experiment the scientist were carrying out. It was rather top secret." He emphasised on the last word.

Top secret huh.

Though nothing is ever hidden from you is it?

"I would prefer you to investigate -"

" The explosion destroyed the whole area. I found nothing. "

I interrupted before he shot me an impressed, sly look.

"Well done I already assumed that. "

He took out a pen and began scribbling something on the paper.

" you might consider dealing with Katasuke instead. He was the incharge. The only one who had all the intel. "

Shit.

"Uh uh. Can't do that either. " I replied before his eyes landed on me again.

What..?

That old freak was the first person who betrayed me during the chunnin exams.

The moment I saw him. I made sure he never sees anything again.

Then again I was weak. Very weak.

I did knocked him out to near death.

Might as well be a coma.

Hence, it wasn't possible.

"Tell me another way. Quick. "

And he began to laugh. Like he expected everything that left my mouth.

Just how what is he?

"Very well. " Before I could reply, he stretched out the paper to me.

"Removing the above two options. The only people you could turn to-"

My eyes landed on the neat writing.

It was still far enough for me to not be able to read anything.

"-are them. "

Before I could even touch the other end. The lights flickered.

On and off. On and off.

And something inside me was yelling for me to run away.

"I TOLD YOU TO WAIT-"

"OI Listen! -We're on a mission here! -what the-!"

Voices. Very familiar ones.

Shit.

One belonged to Karin hence I didn't cared.

But the other one-

Inojin.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Did they.. Sensed me?

Impossible.

I made sure my chakra was completely hidden.

Meddling with the people of this world would be the last thing on my list.

Sounds of hurried footsteps coming straight to our direction had me freeze at my spot.

I opened my mouth as the words automatically left.

"I should leav—"

"I said wait-you! -MITSUKI! "

And before I could even blink-

-the damned door was slammed open.

7: A cursed night

...A full moon night it was...

One he could never forget.

The first memory of his life wasn't anything pleasant.

Ever since then he'd always despised the full moon.

A dark room. A broken glass tube.

Something wet... Not like water, a little denser.

Though it felt weird...and gross.

Wires spread like vicious snakes all around his fragile body.

Though the first thing his sunny eyes landed on.

Made him shiver.

Dark Orbs.

A deadly predator looking at his prey.

Ready to eat him alive. Anytime.

Dark and hideous.

His heartbeat went faster. He wished it to be a nightmare.

He wished to wake up right at that moment.

But.

Wake up to what?

What was his reality?

His life? His family?

Who... Was he?

"No need to be scared...Mistuki"

He'd flinched at that cold voice.

Mitsuki..

This was.. His name?

Was this person... The one who abducted him?

"My name is Orochimaru..."

The man had said to him like the most normal thing ever.

Though what came next made the boy almost cry in denial.

"And I'm your parent."

His eyes widened in fear. His heart clenched in fury.

No... He-

-This cannot be his parent.

It was a lie.

He can't have anything to do with this person. With this place.

This cannot be his life. No way.

He was lying.

It wasn't his reality. It couldn't be.

But then again... Who the hell was he anyway?.

How can he deny such a possibility if he wasn't even aware of his actual identity?

He didn't knew. He didn't knew anything.

And since that moment.

The memory stretched. Hours became days. And days became weeks.

He kept hoping for it all to be a lie. Though nothing changed.

He didn't had anything else on him. No memory. No sign.

No trace.

He had to admit it. No matter how much he hated it.

This was his life.

Not like those kids he dreamed of. Playing happily.

Out in the sunny days. Their parents laughing and giggling together .

Not trapped in a dark, damp lab with no life except him and the man claiming to be his parent.

Where he was always experimented.

Where no one would listen to his painful cries.

Where no one would save him.

Thus, at last. He accepted it.

No argument. No questions.

Whatever task left the older man's lips.

He did it without a second thought.

Untill one day.. It changed.

...A full moon night yet again...

A mysterious power surging deep within.

A mission gone wrong.

Two adults facing each other. Both of them equally suspicious.

He didn't knew what side to choose. He only had two options on him.

He tried and tried and tried.

Until his gaze landed on the very reason behind this quarrel.

And he snapped.

Hands automatically moved. Snatching the box from the hands of his own 'older' figure.

As if it contained something precious. Very precious.

Though he didn't knew where he got that idea from. Just a gut feeling maybe.

Which again... Was rare for the boy. Cause he never thinks.

Not for himself atleast.

And far he ran.

His sudden powers increasing his durability to unknown levels.

Untill he finally stopped under the full moon sky.

The cold light showering upon him in dark.

Where he'd opened the box and found the picture .

His picture.

His eyes widened as the corner of his lips stretched.

That... Was the first time he ever smiled.

Because now he knew. He knew absolutely well.

That this very moment.

This very second.

His destiny has been decided .

By his own hands. No less.

He finally found his sun.

"I am Uzumaki Boruto. Go ahead and ask me anything -ttebasa! "

If you ever ask Mitsuki.

His first impression of his sun.

The boy won't say he expected exactly this.

Cause it was nowhere near what he'd imagined.

A young lad desperate for his father's attention.

Tends to take shortcuts and takes everything for granted.

It wasn't that Mitsuki had any doubts.

He just... found the boy way more interesting than he'd comprehended.

The blonde's proudful tone had him thinking deeply.

#boruto fanfiction

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

Text

The story creates the story tells itself. That's it, that's what this is, it's the thing I always end up saying when Critical Role hits me right in the solar plexus, because stories are how we make sense of events after they've already happened. The story is not a thing in the moment it is created, it is a thing you can only know the shape of once it's over with, and then you look at it and you say, yes, of COURSE, it only ever could have been this from the first, couldn't it?

Seven miserable loners and outcasts and reckless illegitimate rebels meet in a tavern with no desire whatsoever for heroism. Their morals are quickfire and slapdash, casual and arbitrary, we'll help out these people, those people aren't our problem, we dislike those fucks over there. There is a war brewing and they want nothing to do with it. Fuck fame, fuck fortune, we'll keep to ourselves and play fast and loose with crime and take care of our own and maybe some lucky randoms we meet along the way. We'll fight and scrap and tussle amongst ourselves because none of us even entirely understand our own morals, let alone how to reconcile them with any of these other half-assed motherfuckers we apparently have to care about now.

They fuck up. One of their own dies.

They drown in rage and fury for just long enough, until they can stop gasping and growling for vengeance to take a breath. Then they run.

They run, because they do not care to stand and fight: not against evil or dragons or tyrant kings, not against their own grief. They flee the country. Nobody is chasing them, but they flee anyway, to avoid shackles, to avoid control, to avoid being set to anyone else's purpose, to avoid their own loss and their own sins. They run to the sea. (They find danger, and shackles, and control, and somebody else's purpose there again. The world is full of shackles and those who would wield them.)

They grieve. They avoid their grief. They sanctify their fallen comrade. They do not aim to be anything, this ragtag group of miserable loners and outcasts. The only thing they know themselves to be is each other's. They do not know themselves at all, but this grief, this loss--they know it, at least, know it together, an iron band binding them all heart to heart. It is the first truth they have to hold on to, the thing that lets them see each other as the only thing that matters, the only thing that's really real.

They face down a cult and win, because the other option is shackles or death. They face a demigod and flee, again, again, again. Always they flee.

They flee towards home and home is burned. They have seen loss and they have seen death and it finds them no matter how they run away, so maybe it's time to change direction. Maybe it's time to run towards. It's still running, still half-mindless directionality, it's still familiar. They are not heroes, they are not somebodies, they have never wanted to be somebody. This group has never wanted to be anybody, not as a group, not when they're whole. They're nobodies, trying to take care of themselves, take care of their own, to grow past their grief that they pretend they're gone from now, mostly, most days, when they can. (Pretend it's not the grief that made them each other's in the first place, like none of the fighting and scrapping and scrabbling along beside one another ever had in the first place.)

They bulldoze and trip and stumble and run towards instead of away, for once, just this once, the very first time they've run towards a thing since that last time, the only time, when they temporarily lost three of their own and then broke themselves trying to chase them (trying to chase vengeance). Towards is so much more dangerous than away. Run towards something hard enough, you might actually find it. You might have to become somebody when you get there, instead of just not-being somebody else.

They're somebody now. This rag-tag, broken, mismatched knot of nobodies, not even mercenaries because they're too skittish to even really look for paid work, they're somebodies now, or so Someone Important says. It fits like an ill-tailored coat that they've been forced into without ever making a choice. Without ever realizing, entirely, how much they never made a choice. The world said congrats, you're heroes now, and these killers and thieves went, well, fuck.

And then they tried to be heroes anyway. Not because it fit, not because they knew what to do, but because the mess of them, the seven of them, barely knew who they were to begin with. If the world was shouting HEROES! YOU'RE HEROES! BE HEROES! at them this very loudly--then don't they have to wear the coat that's being given to them? Don't they have to be, have to find some way to become, the heroes they've tripped and stumbled into appearing?

They don't know themselves. All they've done so far is run from themselves--from parents and children and their own crimes, from chains and challenges, limits and labels. They only barely know who they're not. They couldn't know who they are. How do they know they aren't heroes? The one thing they know, the only thing they have, the only thing they've ever run towards, is each other. The one thing they know for absolute sure and certain that defines and binds them is that steel band of grief, that first loss, the thing that broke and forged them to begin with.

So they look for answers in their grief, in what they've lost, because if it's the first true thing about them as a group, them as a whole, then it must be able to tell them who they have to be now. They sanctify their fallen, twist meaning and moral out of conversational confrontational casualness, make a mission statement out of leave every place better than you found it. They forget who he was, petty and venal and mortal and flawed. (They try to convince themselves that they don't have to be petty and venal and mortal and flawed.) They cling to what he meant.

And they fail. God, looking back on it all, with the shape of the story and the shape it's become, is it any wonder they failed? Petty and venal and moral and flawed, these rough-edged rabble-rousers, not even mercenaries because they don't even know how to take orders besides their own. Trying to be heroes. Trying to stop a war, because that's their job, right? It has to be. That's the shape of the coat they're trying to wear, that's the shape of leave every place better than you found it, that's the thing they crashed straight into while they were running, running, running the way they've always run, run, run. So they look for answers everywhere, because they have to have the answers to everything, and they scry and they spy and they play sides. They meet with queens. They turn to each other on the streets on the way out of the palace and ask in horror, "What did we just do?"

They run and they run and they trip and they fall and they unleash more evil than there was to start with. They lose one of their own, again. They sit in shattered shards, and what just happened? How could we have seen this coming? What did we just do?

They don't know themselves. They've been running from themselves, trying to run towards misty shapes they can't define in a too-big coat and too-small shoes, without any real practice in running towards to begin with. They don't know themselves, but they need to move forwards. They need to be whole again, the six, the seven (the eight, the nein). How can they do that if they don't know themselves?

And--finally, finally, they learn.

They learn. They throw a sword in a volcano and forge a sword anew. They rediscover their own mind, their own heart, covered in blood with each other's blood on their hands. They walk into their abusers' homes and then walk back out again alive and un-alone and unchained. They recover bodies. They recover families. They find themselves.

(And the selves they find are mortal and flawed, because they have always been mortal and flawed, because they are built to be mortal and flawed, because they are still the same misbegotten messes they have ever been. But they are stronger for having sought themselves out, for what they have found. They are the stronger for those threads of heroism they tried to, managed to keep.)

They stop a war, incidentally. In the end it's not even all that much due to them. They sit, nobodies on a ship in the middle of the ocean, and watch in silence. It chafes a little, not to be in the center of things, to be able to be the heroes it felt like the world told them they had to be. (It feels a little like relief.)

They find themselves. They find themselves, and they find another lost and broken man, miserable outcast loner, petty and venal and mortal and flawed. They only start to realize how they know themselves now when they see how much he doesn't.

(The peace treaty happens, happened, is/was/will be happening, because they tripped and trembled and tried their way into it, but in the end a thousand chess pieces moved to make it so, and it is signed on a boat where we do not even set foot. The culmination, the crowning glory, the true victory of that whole middle story, is a perfectly-dressed man in chains in the hold of a boat, admitting to his own sins. It is secret and it is individual, and it is the concrete proof above all proofs that our nobody unknowns are finally their own very-known selves. Because they were Essek, once--but know they know their own mirrors well enough to look at him and recognize that.)

They know so much, now, about who they are and who they are to become. They have looked at their pasts and, yes, flinched away, but they've seen, and they know, now, as much as they can handle. In the end, the one thing they don't know the true shape of, the one thing left to seek that must be sought, is of course (of course, of course) that very first thing they thought they knew to begin with. The one thing left to face is their grief. The one thing left to discover is what shaped it from the very start.

So they run, like they have always run. In amongst the snow it is the very distillation of running, towards and away, away and towards, chasing and fleeing and fleeing and chasing, are we in front or are they? It's every mistake they ever made all over again. It's every new lesson they've ever learned.

They don't ask any more, what's the right thing to do. They don't need to ask. They know, already, swift and sure and confident as they once stumbled and dodged. This is a thing that must be stopped. It is ours to stop it. Yes, it is a heavy, clumsy coat to wear, but it fits us out here in the snows where we're not trying to prove our heroism to anybody any more, for good or for evil. Yes, it weighs on our backs and tangles our legs, but it fits as well as any role we've ever tried to wear. It fits us more than it could ever fit anybody else. It's our role. It's our coat. It was forged of our choices, our pieces, our fights. It was forged of our grief.

Nobody else is here with us, to watch, to know. Just like when we were seven shiftless, aimless, worthless nobodies wandering through a circus tent on the way to nowhere (everywhere) else. There's us and the demon born from our grief, the demon who sprang up and died and is the only reason we any of us ever met. Just us, just the nine of us, three and three and three. The three who were dragged off in chains and gave us something to run towards, that very first time. The three who chased, and watched their companion fall, and faced their grief head on, and ran. And Lucien, and Caduceus, and Essek, beginning and middle and end: The man whose demise allowed us to come together, reborn from the loss that bound us. The man who found us and told us that grief is inevitable and passing, that we must continue with it, that we still had such a long way to go. The man who we found like a reflection in an aging mirror, reflecting our own progress back at us, showing us how far we've come and what we've learned how to be.

Of course it had to end this way. (There were so very many other ways it could have ended, once. Of course there were none at all.) Of course it would be nine and nine in the end. Of course it would be this final perfect marriage of heroism and anonymity, for this group that's finally figured out their selves, past and future and right-the-fuck-now, saviors and heroes and petty nobody fucks. Of course it would be this.

And of course, of course, of course it had to go like this. Of course, after everything, the first six of them would try to reverse that grief that forged and tied them. Of course they couldn't. Of course they couldn't, of course, of course--(and was it fate, that 1-in-20 chance, that 5% chance, that 1 on a die? was it fate like the dice are always fate in every game, rolling out poetry with every throw, because all the rolls that aren't quite poetic enough get forgotten?) Of course it was a 1, not some other number, not some sheepish failure of a 4. Of course the universe itself would speak to say no.

No, says the universe, that is not how this story goes--because the road is full of shattered shards, and our heroes only learned to be heroes by discovering how bloodily bad at it they were, by nearly causing the apocalypse before wrestling it back again. Of course the universe itself says that after all this time, after changing so far and discovering so much, this the inciting thing from the very beginning that bound this group in steel must not be changed. Of course, with all their pleas, the six people who knew him cannot bring him back.

Of course that's how the story would go. And of course there's Essek, the man who met this party so long after their throes of mourning that it had sunk into their bones and grown quiet before they ever knew him, who cannot accept this outcome. Of course it's Essek, who never met and has barely heard of this man, this grief--Essek who has not yet grown into the quiet acceptance of his own grief, who does not yet know his own mirror, who has only just barely begun to understand running to instead of from and still doesn't know the shape of what he might eventually choose to chase--who seethes in rage. Who cries about not fair.

Of course it's Caduceus who takes the inspiration of that anger, that grief, and changes it all. Of course it's Caduceus, who the group only even found out of their grief. (They tracked him down to beg to know if he could raise the dead in the first place. Do you remember? One, two, three, Caleb and Beau and Nott, finding him in his graveyard to beg him to help.) Of course it's Caduceus, created to serve and to heal and to make so, so very sure that everyone understood that death could be necessary and final. Of course it's Caduceus, who stood over Mollymauk's grave by the roadside and put a hand in the dirt and cast decompose, because what is dead should be allowed to stay that way until it grows into something else. Of course it is. Because Caduceus has learned his own shape by now, too--and it is still full of devotion, of dedication to the dead remaining dead, but it is steadfast and selfish sometimes too, forged in friendship, full enough of love to try, just this once.

Of course Caduceus gave the diamond but didn't try to perform the ritual, at first, at first. Of course he's spent so very long so very gently urging his friends to reconcile themselves to their loss, to letting their loved one sleep. Of course, in the end, in the very end, he weighed all his faith that once held so firm and final and without exceptions, with this grief before him, and found just this once, maybe, within it.

Of course when he tried, the man who lives to put things in the ground (to put Molly in the ground), even after the fates and the gods and the universe had spoken--when, just this once, against the will of the natural order and the universe and the power of destiny, he asked, just once, for the path of things to reverse--of course. Of course he was the voice that needed to speak for the story to listen.

Of course Molly would end the campaign. Of course this had to be the finale of it all. Of course this ritual--not this fight, not this mission, not even this apocalypse, but this ritual, this resurrection--must be the end of things. Of course it's the end of the story. You can't go any farther than this.

There can never be nine of us. It won't be ironic any more. But irony, after all, is just a way of running from sincerity, sometimes running away from sincerity so hard and fast you crash back into it from the other side. Like running from being a person, from being that person, from letting things matter, from mattering. Like running so far and fast from being found that eventually you have no choice but to find yourself. Irony's a shield against having to know the truth.

There's nine of them. It's not ironic. It's perfect, but it's not ironic. It's just the truth. They know who they are, now. Not who they were running away from being. Not who they tried to be for the sake of anyone else. Who they always are. Always were.

This story could have been a hundred thousand different things, when it started. Of course it was always fated to end with nine.

#whoops #definitely wrote this at 4 AM #apparently it still holds up in the light of day #CR spoilers #critical role #episode 140 #ok maybe I had a few feels #prose poet at 3 am

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

To Be Damned | The 7 Deadly Sins

Chapter 4, Yearn

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - angst, slow burn, E2L, F2L, fluff, smut

Word count - 6k

multipart series, multimember series, college au, fantasy au, demon!jungkook

Warnings: 18+, oc drinks a lot and snorts coke, swearing, sexual frustration

There is no ‘How To Be a Witch 101’ lecture you can attend, and despite your best effort to find one, it turns out there was no ‘Demons for Dummies’ in the local library either. You’ve been researching for days, attempting to find anything that could help and guide you into your ‘destiny’. It was sad really, how all the women in the family had their mothers to teach and support them through this transition, yet you were all alone in this.

Thanks to a quick internet search you found some lavender capsules, two doses a day is enough to manage the headaches and it looks a lot less suspicious than drinking a purple floral tea. Everyone is taking something these days, be it antidepressants or something more extreme, nobody was going to bat an eyelid if they did see you popping pills. According to your moms journal entries the migraine was nothing more than mere growing pains, your brain expanding to full capability as you get stronger.

The idea of someone getting into your head and manipulating your thoughts still doesn’t sit right with you, but you figure that’s exactly what’s happened and as a result – you’re now in transition. It had to be Jungkook, as much as you didn’t want to believe it, it had to be him.

So now there’s two things you’re absolutely sure of. The first, you were related to the original Y/N, the most powerful witch ever documented who went rouge after her family and friends were framed and killed. And the second, Jungkook was one of the seven men responsible for their deaths, making him a present day demon. One of the seven sin demons, the strongest of their kind. Because obviously nobody could be just average at anything these days.

Y/N is also known as the First Witch, giving that she was the first of your kind to flip the switch, something others didn’t even know was possible until she did it. Witches draw their energy from the Earth, they utilise the purity and goodness from nature to make them stronger. The first witch however disturbed balance in the world when she drew her power from something much deeper, darker, scarier. Unfortunately there’s barely any documentation explaining much beyond that. She went on to slaughter millions of men who wronged her, if they’d wronged her, by the sounds of it she was drunk with power and couldn’t stop her killing spree until somebody had no choice but to stop her. Who that somebody was you have no idea, but the last record of her was nearly 200 years ago now.

The idea of Jungkook and his friends being immortal is somewhat funny to you, especially since he’d decided to move to Thornheart to study history at the local college – He has all of eternity to plague the Earth with his stupidly perfect face, and he decides to take the higher education route. You scoff aloud, he’s at least 350 years older than you. The only explanation for it is that he knows who you are, and what you are, and he feigned friendship to get close to you for his own selfish reasons. You scoff again, what a fucking asshole.

You haven’t told anybody about your transition, not your dad, not Jay, and especially not Lisa. If Lisa knew she would drop Taehyung immediately, which albeit might be the right thing to do considering you suspect he’s a fucking demon, but you can’t risk any of them figuring out you know what you are, and more importantly you know what they are. It was safer to play dumb for now, you knew enough about Hoseok and Taehyung to know they wouldn’t hurt Jay or Lisa. Still, you’re not particularly thrilled that your best friend is fucking a demon. A sin demon. Guilt gnaws your insides for not telling her the truth, but you figure it’s safer for her not to know the whole truth. At least not yet, not until you’ve managed to control your powers some more.

It's impressive how quickly your powers just seemed to click into place. It had only been a matter of days but you can already set anything on fire with a simple glare, something you figured out when the coffee machine at the library was out of order, the prospect of having no caffeine that day won the entire machine to burst into flames.

Your senses are heightened, everything smells stronger and sounds are louder, you have this crazy awareness now, you can tell when people are looking in your direction, even if you’re not facing them. You can smash glass without touching it, make changes to the weather depending on your mood. And you’re certain you can cause people physical pain without needing to touch them, though you haven’t put it to the test because… Well why would you? You didn’t want to hurt anybody.

Demons hurt people, witches protect the people from getting hurt. Your mom’s journals said something about how witches feel almost responsible for the mess that follows demons, giving the first witch was the one who created them. There are thousands out there, though you’re unclear on what triggers their transition, perhaps a sin demon has something to do with it.

Walking into class you almost freeze in place as your eyes find Jungkook sitting at his usual desk, he’s drumming his thumbs on his coffee cup as he stares out the window. Shit. He turns to face you as you approach your own seat next to him, he looks worried. As if that were possible, demons couldn’t be anything, they were demons. At least that’s what all the books say.

“Morning.” He doesn’t smile today, “I didn’t think you’d be here today.”

“You’re the one who’s been skipping class.” You sit, avoiding his gaze as you grab the laptop from your bag and place it in front of you. “Feeling better?”

“Mm.” He nods, tongue pressing the inside of his cheek briefly, all while not looking at you, “How’s your head now?”

“Fine.” You bite.

You’re so aware of his presence, every nerve in your body is on fire, it’s difficult to concentrate as class begins. The professor is handing out grades and briefing your next assignment, but you physically can’t listen to him because the sound of Jungkook’s steady breathing is flooding your ears, the smell of his expensive cologne thickens the limited space between you and you feel like you’re going to choke on it.

“Well done Y/N,” Your professor drops a paper onto your desk, with a huge red A+ marked in the top right corner, “Top marks, you should think about getting this published, you know so much about the Thornheart witch trials… Seems a bit of a waste that I’ve had the pleasure of reading this and nobody else has.”

“Thank you…” You offer him an awkward smile, is he hitting on you? His stare lingers on your chest for a beat before he turns to Jungkook, ah, he was hitting on you. He’s a creep. Nice.

“Good work as always Jungkook.” He walks away.

Jungkook’s jaw is clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down rhythmically as though he’s catching the words in his throat before they slip out. He looks furious, burning a hole into the back of the professors head with his black eyes. You spot the A+ on his paper and decide to defuse the tension he’s creating, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you.

“Well done.” You point to the sheet in front of him, “On your paper.”

“Thanks.” His profile softens ever so slightly as he looks directly at your face, “You too.”

He looks handsome today, no different from any other day in that respect. He’s wearing a black oversized t shirt with matching black sweats and military style boots, a variety of tattoos on display for the world to see. His hairs a little longer now you notice, he looks good.

“So, um, at Lisa’s house you said you wanted to talk to me about something.” You don’t miss him looking at your lips, hanging onto each word.

“You’re shaking.”

At this you glance down at your bouncing leg, fuck. You were nervous, after all you know what he is and he probably knows what you are at this point. Your heart starts hammering away inside your chest, the noise of blood coursing through your veins rings in your ears as you look back up to face him.

“Probably too much coffee,” You lie, “What did you want to take to me about?”

He smirks at this, presumably seeing straight through your bullshit. “I think you already know.”

Gulping, you choke out, “I do?”

“For what it’s worth I never meant to hurt you.”

“I-, what?” You’re frowning now.

Jungkook nods dimly in response, “You don’t have to lie to me anymore, I know you remember.”

“I can honestly say I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mm.” He ruffles his hair, “I should’ve never manipulated you like I did.”

“What are you talking about?”

He sighs, visibly unamused, “I know you know Y/N, stop playing dumb with me.”

“Jungkook…” You move closer to him, practically drowning yourself in his scent, “I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It isn’t a lie, you don’t know exactly what he’s talking about. But his confession confirms your suspicions all the same, Jungkook had manipulated you in some way and triggered your powers. He isn’t human, he’s a 350 year old fucking demon. A sin demon. The scariest part of this is that you’re not scared at all, you’re still drawn to him, still want to see the good in him even though he’s the epitome of evil.

Except he doesn’t feel evil at all, he’s just Jungkook.

He looks up through dark eyelashes, eyes desperately searching your face for the truth. “You don’t?” He’s quiet.

“Is this about the party? Look I know it’s not an excuse but I was drunk and-“

His chuckle cuts you off, “I don’t care about your little outburst.”

“Then what do you care about?” If anything at all, you mentally add.

He stays silent.

10th March 1988

All my friends are going to Motley Crue concerts getting fucked up and I’m trying to not to accidentally set anything on fire or explode anything on a daily basis. I miss my old life. I don’t want to be a witch! I’m trying my hardest to accept it and control my powers but… It’s so depressing. 6 months ago I was a normal college student cramming for exams and flirting my way into clubs, now look at me. Writing in a diary that nobody’s ever gonna read about my sad, pathetic, magical life. It’s cruel that my life was already dictated for me before I was even born. I don’t think I could do that, it’s not fair, I couldn’t do that to my children, it fucking sucks. So I guess I’ll die alone with no husband, no children, no ties to this shitty magical world.

You sympathise with her completely, it’s exactly how you felt popping lavender capsules and trying not to blow anything up every day. Your chest tightens at your mom’s handwriting, she didn’t want to have kids because she knew what they would have to go through. For the longest time you’d known you were ‘an accident’ or a ‘happy surprise’ as your dad likes to call it, but something about her written confession upsets you. It did suck. It is cruel. But that’s life.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, you’re tossing and turning in bed before you finally cave and reach for your phone. To your disappointment you have no messages, not even one. You still haven’t deciphered what Jungkook was talking about in class earlier, but judging by his recent Instagram post he didn’t have the time to be dwelling on it like you are.

He stood shirtless and damp in a gym locker room, wet hair sticking to his forehead. He looks fucking beautiful, it makes sense that he’s a demon because the curves and shadows of his body are somewhat…unholy. Tattoos litter his chest and the left side of his ribcage, as well as the ones you’ve already seen when he wears short sleeves.

A sudden memory floods your senses with an almost audible bang in your head. It was Jungkook, he was panting and sweating… He wore a tight black tank top exposing his broad muscular shoulders. ‘I was on a run and I saw you, I live nearby.’ Your head begins to ache. ‘Why are you here alone?’ The picture of him fades to black. It was when you finally succumbed to sleep you remembered the whole thing, watching it play out in your mind.

“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong but I’ll listen, if you want to.” Jungkook’s large palm brushes your shoulder.

“My grandma’s house used to be here, it burned down two years ago today actually. Her and my mom were inside, they didn’t make it out.”

“I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely sympathetic.

After a small conversation and some comfortable silence Jungkook looks around the field, then back to you, sitting next to him in the grassy field.

“You know apparently this is where the Thornheart witch trials took place in 1692. In an old stable on this field, those trees are were the seven travellers were tied to.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You watch yourself quickly lose your shit with him, unable to keep yourself from yelling exactly what you thought of him in that moment. It was clear as day now, this is what he had been talking about. This is what he was referring to. I should’ve never manipulated you like that. You regain focus on the memory of you two in the field.

“For what it’s worth I think you’re beautiful, I’m sorry.”

“I want you to forget this ever happened, you didn’t see me here today, you’re gonna go home and spend some time with your family.”

A 50/50 cocktail of equal parts rage and understanding washes over you as you stir beneath the sheets. On one hand, how dare he get into your head and make you forget about how shitty of a human, sorry, non-human he is. On the other hand you find it difficult to be angry with him, after all what he was saying at the time is much more significant to your life now. You wonder if the fire that killed your grandma and mom was magically inclined. No, now you’re being ridiculous. It was an accident.

An accident that made no sense.

Still, Jungkook shouldn’t have erased your memories like that – his doing so is potentially what’s triggered your powers. Asshole. So why aren’t you scared of him? This confirms everything, he’s a fucking demon, you’re a witch. A Stephen King style twist on the classic Romeo and Juliet Shakespeare tale. It’s sickening how you still crave his presence now you know what he really is. What would your mother say? Your grandmother?

Your hips sway to the beat of the loud music, having made an impulse decision to come clubbing with Jackson tonight. You need a break, a stress release, a night of dumb decisions and lots of vodka. The club is dark save for the occasional rhythmic strobe lights, bodies press against each other in the crowds as they dance, desperate yet silent as they beg for attention.

Jackson brought you to a dingy nightclub down town called Sticks, the drinks were cheap and the DJ was good. You didn’t care where you were partying, as long as you were partying hard.

“Where’s Lisa?” Jackson dances with you.

“Probably with her boyfriend.” You take a large gulp of the drink you hold, you do feel guilty for not inviting her out but you know that wherever Lisa goes, Taehyung had a tendency to follow. And you did not need that right now.

Jackson’s smile widens, “Wanted me all to yourself did you?”

You laugh a little too hard, “Not quite. I just need a break yknow? I’m stressed.”

“Ah..” He looks disappointed, “Well in that case, want some of this?” He gestures to a small clear packet filled with white crumbs in his shirt pocket.

“Hmmm….” You ponder for a moment, “Fuck it. I’ll be right back.” You snatch the bag from him and head to the ladies room.

Standing in the cubicle alone you manage to rack up and snort two fat slugs of cocaine. Fuck it. It had been a while since you were this reckless, one night off being a control freak wouldn’t damage your reputation. Tonight you were here to get fucked up, and fucked up you were.

As if your senses weren’t heightened enough from the transition, as the coke rapidly takes over your brain you become more aware of everything. The music sounds better, the crowd feels friendlier, no inhibitions, no negativity – just one of your best friends and a shit load of drugs & alcohol. You’re making your way back to the pulsing dancefloor when you spot a familiar face in the crowd, deep in conversation with your friend.

Grinning, you approach the pair and formally introduce yourself.

“Hello there Jimin, I'm Y/N." You blurt, happily rolling your hips to the song that's playing. You recognise him from Instagram.

Jimin is quite good looking you notice, he's shorter than the friends of his you've met but he's charming, his features are soft and delicate, his lips plump and the most perfect shade of pink you've ever seen. You don't miss the way his eyes give you a quick once-over, he is but a simple man after all. Well, potentially he's a complicated demon but at least he likes your tiny sage green dress.

"Hi Y/N. Nice to finally meet you." He winks, and for a moment you forget how to breathe, "Does Jungkook know you're here?"

His question catches you off guard, "Didn't realise I had to tell him."

"Who's Jungkook?" Jackson's pupils are dilated, presumably from the cocaine but it could also be from the envy currently slapping his features.

"A friend of mine, he's kind of... Interested in Y/N."

You stifle a laugh, "For all the wrong reasons I might add."

"What makes you say that?" Jimin cocks his head to the left before fixing his white shirt.

"It's the truth isn't it." Your dancing stills, your face serious as you realise you're about to cross a line that can't be uncrossed. "How do you two know each other anyway?" You deflect.

"Jimin's been helping me with strength training at the gym." Jackson gives you a look that screams 'are you okay?' and you nod.

"Ohhh, you're one of those guys." Your eyes roll, "I'll be right back gonna go get another drink." “

Approaching the glossy bar you raise a manicured finger to get the bartenders attention, there's no immediate response but eventually a young girl walks over and asks for your order. 'Vodka lemonade' you yell above the music, and she returns with a tall sparkling glass.

“That’s just 6.66.”

You chuckle inwardly, feeling painfully mocked by the devils number.

Before you have time to open your purse a large, tattooed hand taps a blue credit card to the card machine the bartender holds.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to though.” Your smile fades as your eyes settle on the man beside you. He flicks his hair from his eyes and drinks in the shape of your curves.

“So,” Placing one hand on the bar, Jungkook smirks, “Are you still going to play dumb with me?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You look for the bartender and call her back over, “Yeah can I get two shots of whiskey too please?”

“You know I don’t like whiskey.” Jungkook quips in your ear, his fruity breath warm on your neck.

“As much as I’d love to see you throw up just because you’re a pussy who can’t handle liquor, they’re not for you.” You click your tongue, turning to face him. “They’re both mine.”

He looks so fucking good, his lips are shiny and inviting. Silver hoops hang from his ears by the plenty, matching the rings that decorate his big hands. He’s wearing a dark distressed denim co-ord, a white shirt threatens to slip out beneath his jacket, all tied together with a sinister smile.

“Mm.” He nods, “Make it four.” He holds up 4 slender digits to the bar tender, who seems awkward since he hasn’t looked away from you once, but she agrees.

“I thought you didn’t like whiskey?” You mock him, reaching for your purse.

“I don’t really,” He lowers his face to meet your eye level, “Just proving a point.”

You scoff as Jungkook presses his credit card to the reader machine, not letting you pay for this round either. “Yeah? And what points is that exactly?”

“I’m many things Y/N,” He purrs, grabbing two of the freshly poured golden shots from the bar – effortlessly knocking them back one after another, he doesn’t react to the taste. “But I’m not a pussy.”

Heat licks the base of your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention as if they’re reaching out for him to touch you. You ignore your racing heartbeat, “Why are you here?”

To this he smiles, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, “Blowing off steam, been a rough couple of weeks. What are you doing here?”

“The same.” You swallow your own shots one after the other, locking eyes with his.

“Mm. You didn’t answer my question.” Shifting closer to you he leaves one palm on the bar, caging you in.

“I did actually.” His arms are huge, you notice.

“Let me rephrase then,” His other hand grips your jaw and forces you to look him in the eye, “Are you afraid of me?”

The hold he has on your face isn’t rough, it’s rather gentle all things considered. On the dancefloor behind him you see Jimin staring in this direction, their friend Namjoon beside him. Thankfully Jackson was facing the other way, presumably talking to the other two men. Jungkook’s upper lip twitches.

“No.”

At this he closes the distance between your bodies, his torso pressed flat against the swells of your breasts. His cologne was intoxicating, more so than any drink or drug you’d had tonight, adrenaline pools your stomach as his lips ghost yours, curving into a wicked smile.

“You should be.”

He knows you know, he knows everything.

It takes all your strength not to grab his jaw and smash his mouth to yours to kiss him feverishly, fuck that’s exactly what you want to do, but you manage to refrain. Looking up at him through long eyelashes you smirk, tormenting him had always been more fun than giving into temptations anyway.

“I know you won’t hurt me.” You whisper matter of factly, watching his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath.

“How can you be sure?” His nose brushes against yours as his hair tickles your cheek, “You know what I am, right?”

You hide a small smile, “Mm. I do.”

Fuck this was the most turned on you’ve ever been and it was because of a demon. A fucking demon. Demons are real and ones turning you on. You wonder if he has superhuman strength, how badly he could actually hurt you if he tried. Seizing the opportunity you gently trace your fingertips over his chest, he pulls away to see your face.

“You’re a fucking pussy.”

Pushing his rock hard body away you reach for your vodka lemonade from the bar, not bothering to give him a second glance as you make your way back over to the dancefloor. Jimin and Namjoon stare at you in shock, Jimin looks vaguely amused. Jackson’s dancing with a pretty blonde girl wearing a satin dress, you join them and begin to sway your hips to the beat.

“Hey Y/N, this is Angel.” The girl dancing with Jackson smiles.

“Nice to meet you.” You grin widely, an angel amongst demons. Poetic.

It’s nearing 2AM when you finally persuade Jackson to take Angel home, they’d been grinding on each other for hours – Jackson even stopped taking the bag of coke to the toilets in fear that he wouldn’t be able to perform later. You however were totally buzzed, your interaction with Jungkook earlier had given you enough of an ego boost to last a life time. Fuck him. Yes, he’s physically perfect but that doesn’t change how he manipulated you to save himself an argument. Pathetic. He is a fucking pussy.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay on your own?” Jackson glares.

“Yes, now go. Have a good time.” You shoo him away from the dancefloor.

“What if someone tries taking advantage of you? I can’t, I’d never live with myself-“

“If anyone tries anything I’ll set them on fire. Now go.” You point to the exit, Angel lingers behind your friend with a hopeful smile. Jackson had no idea how true that statement was, if anybody tried anything with you - you were now equip with the power to literally set them on fire.

“Okay… But I mean it, if anyone tries anything call me and I’ll come straight back. She only lives up the road.”

“Okay.” Your eyes roll, behind Jackson you spot Jimin and Namjoon dancing the night away, “I’m gonna stay with Jimin – you two just go already!” You give him a small hug and provide Angel with the same before you brush past a wall of sweaty bodies to get to the two men.

“Hey,” You sound breathless, “Can I stay with you guys? Didn’t want to cockblock Jackson any longer.” You chuckle, joining the men.

Namjoon’s smile reveals two dimpled cheeks, “It’s fine with me, but you should know he’s with us too.” He points to the bar, and you turn. Jungkook stands at the bar ordering a round of drinks, seemingly unimpressed by the plump red head who stands next to him practically begging him to dance.

“What happened earlier? Seemed intense.” Jimin shoots his friend a knowing look.

Your head tilts, “Have you met Jungkook before? He’s always intense.”

“Touché.”

Hiding his smile Namjoon greets Jungkook as he approaches the group holding three large drinks, they smell like vodka but at this point you’re not entirely sure anymore. Fascinated, he looks you up and down before opening his mouth.

“Are you joining us?” He’s passing drinks out to the others.

“Mm. Is that a problem?” Glancing round you watch people gyrating in every direction to the bass drop.

Hearing this Jungkook smirks, “Not at all.”

“Anyways I’m gonna head out now man, Y/N can have mine.” Namjoon passes you his drink, “Was nice meeting you.”

“And you,” Your lips quirk, “Thanks for the drink.” Holding up the cup you see Jimin downing his entire glass in one breath.

“No need to thank me, he paid for it.” Namjoon gestures to Jungkook, who’s eyeing Jimin curiously as he quickly reaches the bottom of his drink.

“Come on Joon I’ll walk with you,” Jimin burps, “See you at home Guk, you guys have fun.”

“…Was it something I said?” An awkward laugh escapes you as the two men walk away, leaving you alone with Jungkook for the second time tonight.

“Maybe,” He takes a sip of his drink, “I think it’s more the fact they know I’d kill them if you gave them more attention than me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, “Needy.” You manage to choke out.

Jungkook’s grin widens, “Why are you drinking so fast? Not planning on ditching any time soon are you?”

“Actually, to be honest I should probably-“

“And you had the nerve,” He leans in until his head rests on your shoulder, “To call me a pussy?”

“Fine.” Your fingers find purchase in his brunette locks as you tug him away from the crook of your neck, he’s laughing now, “Dance with me.”

If you weren’t drunk before you certainly are now, it’s 3:33AM according to your phone and you’re in the centre of the dancefloor with Jungkook, bodies pressed together as your hips rock side to side to the beat of the song. Your arms are draped round his broad shoulders, his palms squeeze your waist and he’s looking down at you with a look that can only be described as raw desire. Fuck.

As the song changes you dig around in your purse in search for your keys, fuck, they’re not there.

“Something wrong?” Jungkook pants.

“Uh, I don’t have my keys… I must’ve left them at home.” You explain, “It’s okay I’m sure my dad will be completely fine with me coming home at this time. I am an adult after all.”

“Mm.” He frowns, “Why don’t you come home with me instead? That way your dad will never know you were out til this time with god knows who doing god knows what.”

“First of all I’m here with you, and in case you’ve forgotten you don’t scare me.” A smile lingers on your lips.

He nods, “By all means go home, wake him up, forget to take that bag out of your dress and have your dad lecture you about the consequences of doing drugs.” His movements come to a stop, “Or you can sleep at my house, I’ll give you some clean clothes to go home in tomorrow and he will never know that his only daughter is such a dark horse.”

“Hmm,” He does have a point, “I guess I could sleep on the sofa.”

“No, I’ll sleep on the sofa. I live with six other guys I’m not taking any chances.”

“What’re you worried about? That I’ll have sex with one of your housemates?” You snigger and his jaw tightens. “Relax I’m obviously joking. Just so you know though I’m not having sex with you either.”

“I know.”

Jungkook’s bedroom is luxurious, it’s mostly dark with the occasional splash of colour decorating expensive canvases that hang on the walls. You’re surprised by how clean it is, it looks barely lived in, similar to a fancy hotel suite upon arrival. His bed is huge, easily double the size of yours at home, the entire house was huge. You didn’t get a change to look around though, Jungkook had practically shoved you inside his bedroom before the others realised you were here.

His t shirt hangs loosely from your frame, it kisses the tops of your thighs as you walk the short distance between his bathroom back to his bedroom. He did offer you a pair of grey sweats too but you’re too warm to wear them, your skin is uncomfortably hot as you plonk yourself onto his bed. A witch in a demon’s bedroom, you’re internally screaming. It sounded like some badly written fanfiction storyline.

It was nice of him to offer you a place to stay at least, you’ve missed him – you haven’t been around him in what feels like a long time, not properly. It was familiar, it was nice. You’ve only been to this house once before now, and it was to get Lisa out of here the day you found out the truth about what you are. What a hypocrite you are now, forcing her to leave that day yet here you are tucked up in Jungkook’s bed.

“Uh-,” Jungkook dips back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, “So your brothers asleep on the sofa, and everyone else’s rooms are locked…”

“Oh.” Your voice drops, Jay must’ve been with Hoseok tonight and stayed over. “It’s okay I’ll sleep on the floor.” You begin to stand.

“No-,” He catches himself looking at your bare legs, your hardened nipples through his t shirt, and lastly he settles on your bare face. You’d found some skincare in his bathroom and decided it would be best not to smear makeup all over his sheets. “I’ll take the floor, throw me a pillow.” He swallows, finally looking away.

Birds are beginning to chirp outside, yet the room remains almost black from the high quality curtains. You pass him a pillow with a pounding heart, having just realised he’s shirtless. “Thanks.” He says.

“So…” You get back into bed.

“So.” He’s busy grabbing blankets from a cupboard.

“You’re a demon.” Your voice is flat.

He glances toward the bed, he doesn’t seem surprised though, like he expected this to happen sooner or later. Nervous, you chew your lower lip as you wait for a response, the silence is deafening.

“I never meant to upset you that day, and I shouldn’t have made you forget about it.”

“No,” You agree, “You shouldn’t have.”

Peeling your gaze from the ceiling you look to the foot of the bed, he’s made himself a small makeshift mattress with blankets on the floor. He’s lying flat on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling the exact same way yours had been mere moments ago.

“If you already know what I am why did you agree to come back here tonight?” He frowns.

“Like I’ve said three times now,” You shift under the sheets to get comfortable, “You don’t scare me Jungkook.”

“Mm, incredibly poor judgement on your part,” He hums, “Yknow I’m not the only monster in here, I’m guessing you’ve figured out what you are by now.”

Your stomach drops, “I wouldn’t say being a witch makes me a monster,” You sigh, “I was always meant to turn out this way, whether I like it or not it’s in my blood.”

“You’re forgetting one thing.” He sits up, ruffling his hair before looking at you directly, “It was a witch who turned me into a monster.”

He’s right. Sitting up on the bed you peer down at his profile, for the first time since meeting him he looks almost vulnerable. You feel guilty.

“So what happens now? Are we supposed to be like mortal enemies from now on?” A breath gets stuck in your throat as he stands, deciding to take a seat opposite you on the edge of his bed.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, and for once in your smart-mouth life you’re speechless. “Because I’ll be honest Y/N,” He continues with strong eye contact, “In my three hundred and fifty seven years on this Earth, I’ve never wanted something less.”

He moves closer, “I don’t know why, I don’t understand how – but I feel very drawn to you Y/N. You can tell me I’m wrong, you can tell me you don’t feel it too, but we both know that’s a lie.”

“What do you want from me Jungkook?” Your voice comes out as a whisper, it was so quiet you were certain he almost missed it.

“I-, I don’t know. For the first time in my life I don’t know.”

The inside of your mouth goes dry, “You’re three hundred and thirty four years older than me…”

“Are you afraid of me now?”

Gently shaking your head you respond, “No.”

“Like I said, you should be.”

149 notes · View notes

crybabyalexxx · 3 years

Text

Nova

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have a secret arrangement. Inspired by Billie Eilish’s ‘Billie Bossa Nova’

Warnings: NSFW 18+, submissive Bucky, dominant reader, BDSM involved

A/N: This was very fun to write as always. It is my first time writing anything for Bucky but this song just reminds me so much of him and I couldn’t help myself. Hope everyone enjoys it! I always get so nervous before posting a story.

Word Count: 2k

Here you were at another one of Tony’s parties. It’s not like you weren’t having any fun, it’s just that you’d rather be somewhere else. With someone else. It was rare when everyone got a moment for themselves so you all enjoyed it when everyone was together. Made you feel like a real family. But tonight, you only wanted to be with one person.

“Hey stranger, you’re quiet tonight. Everything alright?’ Natasha makes her way up to you, drink in hand. She always made sure you were treated well and felt comfortable. You were so thankful for her.

“Yeah, just a little tired.” Across the room from you was Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier. You two came face to face a few times on missions, before and after you joined the team. He hates to admit it but you were a tough one to fight. You love to remind him how easily you can kick his ass. You loved it when you got him down on his knees.

Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of you all night. From the moment you walked into the room with that silk green dress. It was causal, yet he adored you. He was quieter than usual, but everyone blew it off as ‘Bucky being Bucky’, and he didn’t mind. He just needed you. Bucky knew you thought the same thing too, it was the way you were looking at him. Like you wanted him on his knees. He wanted to obey.

Nobody knew but you and Bucky would regularly meet. When everyone was asleep, you and the Winter Soldier would sneak off and hide behind closed doors. It all started one night after training, the way he was breathing against you. Your legs wrapped around him tightly. Then it happened again after a mission, him knocking on your door and you pulling him in. It’s hard to stop it once it starts. After a while, Bucky told you about him wanting to be submissive. It threw you off at first, you figured after being mind washed for all those years that he would want to be in control for once.

“Sometimes everything becomes too much and I just want someone to take a little control every once in a while.” Bucky lied with you on one of the many hotel beds you’ve been in together.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, James. I understand, I’ll do it. I was always good at getting you on your knees for me.”

“I think I’m gonna go ahead and get to bed. Behave for me will ya?” Natasha smirks and gives you a wink.

“You know me y/n, I like to have a little fun before bed.” You wink back at her and head out to the elevator, with a Bucky Barnes hot on your heels. You didn’t even have to look at him to make him come to you. It won’t be the only time tonight either.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Doll.” It had been a while since the two of you had been in the same room together. So when you both heard you had the weekend off, you couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He’d been worked up and you didn’t want to wait any longer. You loved it when he came without a warning, sometimes waiting can get so boring. You wiped the cum off your hands with your tongue. “Don’t apologize, James, I like how worked up you get.” Bucky chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Only you do it how I like.”

You and Bucky don’t say anything on the way up to your room. You were lucky enough to have your rooms across from each other, nobody would know that he was secretly with you. It was like a routine, a dance between the two of you. Bucky undressed and waited for your command. You walk around him in circles, like he was prey. He wanted you to devour him already.

“On the bed.” He grew an erection immediately. Just by your three simple words. He did as he was told like a good soldier. He even held his hands above his head without having to be told. You straddle his waist as you tie him up. Bucky shuts his eyes tight, he knows he won’t last long with the way you look, fully dressed and slightly grazing him where he needed you most.

You smirk and grind your hips roughly, causing Bucky to throw his head back hard into the pillow. It was as if somebody knocked the wind out of him. His eyes shot open and he swore there was nothing more beautiful than the sight above him. You smiling down at him, your hair coming down loosely. He wasn’t going to last long. You could feel him squirming slightly underneath you. “Y/n, please.”

“Name?”

“Nova.” When you and Bucky weren’t back at the compound, you were in different hotels. Using different names at hotel check-ins. It was routine. Being together for the night, just to feel something. You wanted to be in control and Bucky was more than happy to be controlled by you. You hadn’t realized how much you enjoyed it, having him this way. He could easily take control if he wanted to. But you had him at your mercy, and you were an addict for him.

You were never the sentimental type, but there was something about the way he looked right now for you tonight. Tied up and an absolute mess. You wanted to keep him like this forever. “You make me wanna take a picture of you, James.” You were completely naked for him now. His erection trapped in between your folds, you raked your nails up and down his arms and chest. You made sure to take your time with his metal arm. Made sure he knew that all of him deserved to feel good tonight. “All tied up and wrecked because of me.” Bucky rolled his hips forward to get some sort of friction from you. You held his hips down and tsked. “Be a good soldier now Barnes.” You could make a movie with him that you both would have to hide.

Bucky grunted and threw his head back in frustration. “The things you do to me, Doll.”

You kiss your way up to his neck, “Don’t get sentimental on me James.”

You’d been ignoring bucky all day. It was one of those days where everyone just kind of kept to themselves. You read a few books and paid no mind to Bucky when he walked in the room. You didn’t even look at him when you two were alone in the library. You could feel his eyes on you every second. You could feel how squirmy he was because of it. Even when he caught up with you on the elevator, you simply pulled out your phone and acted like it was the most interesting thing to you. It pained Bucky to not be able to reach out to you. It was torture not having you all over him, your hands pulling at his hair, grabbing his waist, and dragging him to your room. He almost went back to his room, but before he reached the doorknob he looked back at you one last time. He was surprised to see you staring back at him, then you entered your room without closing the door behind you. He took that as an invitation.

Once he closes the door behind him he grabs you and pins you against the door. “Look at me when we’re alone, please.” You knew it wouldn’t take much to get him going. You knew it was torture though. He kissed you like you could one day slip away. “I know, I know.”

You were glad that these walls were soundproof. The noises he was pulling out of you, the sounds he made in your ear. It was like a song you never got tired of hearing. The way he stretched you out, yet fit inside you so perfectly. This was all you needed. He was all you needed. If anybody saw you two this way, you don’t know what they would think. The Winter Soldier begging to come. Moaning out your name. You squeeze around him at the thought. “Fuck! If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last much longer.” You lean in closer to him and squeeze around him once more. “Promise?”

Bucky couldn’t get enough of you, he left hickeys anywhere his mouth could reach. “You leave a strong impression don’t you Barnes?” It might be more of an obsession.

“Anyone see you?” He layed you down softly on the bed.

“No, you?” There was a slight knot in your stomach. You didn’t understand it.

“No.” Bucky continued his assault on your breast.

They won’t see me in your arms, you thought.

You’re not sentimental but there’s something about the way he looks tonight. Desperate, aching, and all yours. You could feel bucky tense up beneath you so you decided to drag this out a little longer. You rocked your hips back and forth slowly. Taking his cock in and out of you torturously slow. “Please Doll.” You’ll never get tired of hearing him beg.

“Who do you belong to?” You started to slam into him and Bucky saw stars.

“I won’t repeat myself, James.” You squeezed his throat gently.

“You! I belong to you y/n! Fuck.” You were going to be the death of him.

“Good Soldier.”

Sometimes you thought about being with Bucky. What it would be like to not have to sneak around and just be with each other. You wondered if Bucky thought the same. You wanted everyone to know the people you two became when you’re alone together. Even make them jealous for a change.

‘What are you thinking about?” You layed in Bucky’s arms, not having the energy to go back to your room yet. If you were being honest with yourself, you enjoyed the feeling of being in Bucky’s arms. The coolness of his metal arm with the warmth of his body. You stayed silent for a while. Debating whether or not to tell him the truth.

“That I’m the only one who does it how you like.”

You climb off of him and ride his thigh instead. Bucky whimpers and stares at you. He could feel how wet you are. You lean down and leave hickeys on his hips roughly. Once you are satisfied you climb completely off him and leave him hard and bare. He takes in a deep breath and pulls against his restraints. It was torture, but you both loved it. Bucky shuts his eyes again. ‘Please.” It won’t take much to get him going. “I know, I know.”

You walk around to the foot of the bed, fully naked. You saw your masterpiece. He was a work of art to you. The way his chest rose, the redness in his cheeks. The trail of your lips splattered all across his body. You were obsessed.

Bucky can hear your soft footsteps. He doesn’t dare look, he knows he won’t last long if he does.

“Look at me a little more James.” It took everything in him not to come the moment he saw you. He could see the wetness dripping from your cunt. The small hickeys covering your body, the ones he left. You were worth waiting for. He was obsessed.

His heavy breathing could have you on the floor. You watched him look your body up and down like it was a piece of art. You didn’t have to say anything, Bucky knew what you wanted. He wanted it too.

“I’m yours.”

You weren’t sentimental, but tonight there was something about him.

“I’m yours.”

#alex writes #alexxx writes #bucky barnes #sub bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #the winter solider smut #the winter solider imagine #the winter solider x reader #dom reader

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tomurasprincess · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 24: Monster (The Asylum)

Day 24: Monster Title: The Asylum Pairing: Mothman Shigaraki x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Noncon, monster mind control stuff, oviposition, cumflation, belly bulges, breeding, forced orgasms, some slight descriptions of gore and blood, yandere Note: The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is a real place, although parts of what I wrote is fake, mostly the part where they close down a second time in the fic. IRL, they’re still open and doing tours. Tagging @ichor-and-symbiosis and @kazooli as two of the OG Mothura writers 👀

Sequel: The Brood

Kinktober Masterlist

You’ve always loved urban exploring, going to old mental asylums and hospitals to look around and see the decay of places that used to be so bustling with people. You especially liked the places that had tragic pasts, the ones where horrific things occurred. It sounds morbid to anyone you talk to about your interests, but it was the truth. You’ve always believed in monsters and ghosts just out of sight of humanity, lurking in the dark corners of abandoned places.

That’s why you instantly planned a trip to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum the second you heard about it. It had been abandoned years ago due to extreme abuse of patients. A historical society had moved in later, renovating the place and making a history tour of it that also did ghost tours at night.

But even they ended up abandoning the place due to the fake ghost tours apparently starting to become real ghost tours. People began to see creatures out of the corner of their eyes, something they said was much larger than a human, with wings on its back and piercing red eyes.

It was initially dismissed as overactive imaginations, people who wanted to see ghosts so badly that they were seeing things that weren’t there. Or people who just wanted to start tall tales for attention and were flat out making things up in order to scare the rest of the group.

But then the disappearances started to happen. It was almost always young women who got separated from the tour group, although a few times it was a boyfriend and girlfriend who got lost together. The tour guides scoured every inch of the asylum looking for the missing people, but they found no trace of them. At first it was dismissed as the people getting scared and running off without telling anybody.

Until one day, a regularly scheduled tour group stumbled across the bodies. Not the bodies of the missing girls, but their partners. They were viciously torn apart, with limbs scattered all over the room. Their blood covered the walls, the floor, even the ceiling of the room. The women were alive but traumatized, rocking back and forth in a corner of the room absolutely covered in blood, none of which was their own.

They told the same tales that the rest of the people did. They were captured by a monster, around 8-9 feet tall, with large moth-like wings and red eyes. The creature was surprisingly gentle to them, they said, at least until they saw that they were with someone. The creature had become enraged, tearing their partner to pieces as they watched. They knew for certain that they would be next, their eyes squeezed tight as they waited for their death.

But the creature did nothing, simply turning away and leaving the room like they were not what the creature wanted.

Although everyone agreed that something horrible had happened to the young women, none of them believed their story. They had stayed in that room for several days, covered in the blood of their loved ones, not knowing if they were ever going to make it out. Of course they were traumatized, thinking they saw monsters. But monsters aren’t believed to exist, and so everyone began to look for a human murderer that was never found.

The asylum tried to recover from the tragedy, but it was never able to. The amount of bad press they got for having lax safety standards and not taking care of their tour groups caused everybody to stay away. Finally, having no other choice in the matter, the asylum had closed.

When you heard this story, you were over the moon excited. Not just a historical landmark, but also a place with a possible real life monster sighting. Nothing was going to stop you from going there and seeing the place for yourself.

And now here you stand, in front of the building with a backpack full of supplies slung over your shoulder. You had your phone, flashlights with spare batteries, a spare change of clothes, matches and lighters, even a rope and various other tools should something happen inside of the building.

And so, with a deep excitement bubbling up in your stomach, you find your way through a hole in the fence and walk through the front door. The first thing you see is the reception desk with various odds and ends left over from the closure. There are even still brochures describing the various types of tours and listing prices.

You walk down the first corridor you see, going past various closed off rooms that look to be basic examination rooms. There is surprisingly little decay, mostly everything still looking rather clean and intact besides a thick layer of dust and cobwebs covering everything. You’re a bit discouraged but decide to continue on to see if things get more interesting.

After all, the murders occured in the basement, and you’re not anywhere close to that yet.

Soon you find yourself in the medical ward where the patients were kept, and you instantly realize one of the reasons this hospital was so nightmarish. The rooms are even smaller than jail cells, leaving barely enough space for patients to lay down in. There are so many rooms of that exact size that you wonder how the staff could accurately take care of the amount of patients there had to be. But you remember your research, remember the fact that they couldn’t.

That was why so many brutal procedures were performed such as lobotomies, in order to keep the peace at the asylum and make things easier for the doctors and nurses. You give a quick shudder and begin to move on, feeling a strange sensation that you desperately want to get away from.

The decay gets worse and worse the closer you get to the basement, rust and decay beginning to cover every surface you see. You walk past some of the surgery rooms and feel horror at the utensils and instruments you see in them. The historical society tried to keep things as accurate as possible, and as such, they had kept most of the equipment that you would see back in those days.

You’re beginning to wonder if this is a good idea, as that strange sensation continues to worsen and worsen. You realize with a start what this feeling actually is.

It feels like someone is watching your every movement. You whirl around, shining your flashlight in every direction as you try to see what’s watching you. But there’s nothing but darkness and the decaying walls of the hospital. You shake your head, laughing quietly at the fact that you’re spooked out by a few weird shadows and an odd feeling.

You’re not going to let it stop you from your goal, however, and you continue forwards until you get to the doors of the basement. The feeling here is overwhelming, simultaneously telling you to run and move forward all at the same time. The conflicting emotions leave you off balance and light headed, and you reach your hand out instinctively when you sway on your feet. You touch a section of the wall and instantly pull your hand back.

The wall is warm, not cold like it should be. A sense of unease crawls up your spine, and you decide then and there that it’s time to go. Making it to the basement is not worth this, whatever it is you’re feeling. But then you hear a soft humming and the flapping of wings, coming from deep within the basement of the hospital.

Instead of being terrified, however, you feel entranced. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard, and it’s calling you. You open the basement door without even thinking about it, walking down the stairs in a dreamy haze. You don’t even pay attention to how heavy the rot here is, how the walls are entirely blackened by decay that spreads out like veins on a body.

You don’t pay attention when the door slams closed behind you, locking you in with whatever is calling you closer. All you can think about is getting to that beautiful sound, that lonely haunting call that seems to burrow deep into your brain. You walk as if you’re in a trance, turning corridors that you’ve never seen before but somehow know where they’re going.

Finally, you get to a door that is deep within the bowels of the basement, a bright red door that seems to beckon you inside. You push open the door with no hesitation, walking through and letting it close behind you.

And you finally come face to face with the creature. He is about 9 feet tall, towering over your small form. He’s not overly muscular, but he has a thin wiry look to him that says he is deceptively strong. His red eyes bore into you like they’re staring directly into your soul. On his back are two massive wings, spread to their full wing span and utterly gorgeous.

The creature makes a small chittering noise as he motions you towards him, and you follow like he’s a puppeteer holding your strings. He pulls you tightly into his body, burying his nose into your neck and taking a deep whiff of your skin. His hot breath on your sensitive skin pulls a shudder from you. and he tightens his grip as if he’s worried you’ll get away.

A long tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking at the pulse point that is frantically beating. “Mine,” he groans into your skin, sharp teeth grazing you. “Mate.” You’re lifted up off your feet before being laid down on the ground, hips in the air and face down on the floor. He rips your pants off easily, leaving your panties on as he lowers his head down. You feel a flash of embarrassment as he sniffs them like he sniffed your neck, groaning again as his tongue drags across the wet abric. “Fertile,” he whispers as he pulls your panties aside, “fertile mate.”

The haze parts from your mind long enough for you to feel a sharp flash of fear, and then his tongue is lapping at your folds and the fear is quickly chased away again. You dig your nails into the floor as you feel him work his tongue inside of you, using it to fuck you like a cock would. You gasp when he hits your cervix with his tongue and keeps going, wiggling against the barrier like he’s trying to break through it.

Something in his saliva causes your body to heat up and your muscles to loosen enough for him to batter his tongue harder against you and push through. Your scream echoes through the walls of the room, but not of pain. Instead, a fierce pleasure overtakes you as your cervix gives way to the creature’s tongue, allowing him to enter into your womb.

The feeling of this tongue wiggling around in your empty womb causes you to tip over the edge and cum around the creature’s tongue as he eagerly laps at your juices. He withdraws his tongue, causing you to let out a whine of disappointment, only to be surprised when you feel something prodding at your entrance. It doesn’t feel like a human cock at all, with ridges and bumps along the length and much thicker than a human cock would be.

You have a single moment to wonder how it will fit inside of you before it’s pushing in, stretching out your tight outer ring of muscles and causing a sharp burning in your lower stomach. You whine and try to pull away, only for the creature to let out a snarl as claws dig into your hips, causing your blood to drip down onto the pavement.

Even though there is no pain, only more pleasure, you learn your lesson and don’t try to move away as the thick cock slides even further into you. It’s so much thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before, and you’re shaking like a leaf when he finally bottoms out inside. You think he’ll start thrusting like a human male would, except that he doesn’t.

He keeps pushing, humping into you with sharp movements designed to force your cervix open even further. You squeal as the cock makes it past the barrier, burying deep inside of your womb. You glance down and let out a choked sob at the bulge in your stomach where the tip of the creature’s cock is.

“Pretty - pretty mate,” the creature says hesitantly, rolling his hips experimentally into you and drawing a groan from your throat. “Tomura,” he adds, and it takes you a second to realize that’s the creature’s name.

“Tomura,” you murmur, and the creature chitters happily at the sound of your voice saying the name. You try to think of something else to ask, maybe even to beg to be released as the haze seems to clear a bit, but Tomura begins to hum again, and you instantly smile in bliss as all of your concern fades away.

You feel something else pushing into your entrance, and it takes a long moment to realize what it is as you feel it slip up your stretched out tunnel.

Eggs. The creature is filling you with eggs. Instead of being horrified, however, you moan as they continue to move inside of you. There are multiple eggs at once, small and gooey, and they coat your insides with wetness as they make their way to your still stretched out cervix.

You feel them pass through the opening to plop down into your womb, and you cry out and cum hard, pussy wildly fluttering around Tomura’s cock. He lets out a deep grunt of pleasure as he rocks his hips against you, and you feel more eggs pushing into you. This time, a few of them get stuck against a spongy spot inside of you, and you scream out your orgasm, legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, oh god, shit, Tomura - “ you babble mindlessly as more eggs push into you, “it feels so good, why does it - “

Before those eggs can push fully in, there are already more entering you, and you feel so incredibly full. They drop down into your no longer empty womb, wringing another orgasm from your tired body. The skin of your stomach is stretching, making you look bloated, and Tomura still isn’t done.

You lose track of time completely, only aware of your body twitching and convulsing as more and more eggs push up into you, settling into your womb with the rest of them. Your stomach already looks 9 months pregnant, and you can barely hold yourself up.

Tomura sees this, and he gently picks you up and lays you down on your back. “Pretty mate,” he leans and kisses your forehead, “look so good with my children. Our children.”

“Oh god, no more, please no more, I’m so full Tomura,” you whimper as more eggs push into you. “Please, so full - “

Tomura hums softly at you, and you smile with bliss as the final eggs plop down into your womb. His movements become more savage, thrusting hard into you as he grunts and groans. The force of his thrusts has you sliding up, breasts bouncing and your belly jiggling. The feeling of the eggs moving around inside of you has you howling out your orgasm, blackness dotting the edge of your vision as you almost lose consciousness.

Finally, Tomura is finished, and his cock begins to twitch inside of you as hot ropes of cum fill you up, shooting directly into your womb where the eggs reside. You sob as you watch your stomach bulge out even more as the creature’s cum fertilizes the eggs inside. You can no longer see the dents and valleys of the eggs along your stomach, and you reach down to gently run your hand over your bloated stomach.

You can feel the eggs through the barrier of skin, and it causes your eyes to roll back at the pleasure. Tomura gives a soft, happy chirp as he places his hand over yours on your belly, rubbing it gently. He pulls out slowly, causing a mixture of your cum and his to gush out of your now gaping pussy.

He reaches down to pick you up as he walks towards a door in the back of the room that you hadn’t noticed before. You’re shocked by what you see when you walk through. It’s an utterly untouched room, still looking brand new and with none of the decay that covers the rest of the basement. There is no bed, but there is a pile of clean blankets and pillows in the corner, piled up high and in a circle.

A nest, you realize. It’s a nest. For you. He tucks you in gently, chirping again as his clawed hand runs over your pregnant belly. “Mate,” he says happily, “my pretty little mate.” He stands up and walks towards the door, turning to you one last time as his gaze narrows and darkens just a bit.

“No running. Don’t want to have to tie mate down.” He continues to gaze at you, as if waiting for something.

“I won’t run,” you say quietly, and the dark look on his face is gone instantly as he beams at you.

“Good mate, good.” And with that, he’s gone.

With his absence, some of the haze lifts and you’re able to realize the horror of the situation you’re in. Nobody knows where you are, and you’re trapped. Even if you wanted to run, you don’t think you could with how large your belly is. No escape and no help coming for you, and the creature already seems so possessive of you that he’s not going to let you easily escape.

If only you had listened to your instincts earlier, if only you hadn’t been so fascinated with the grotesque, if only you had simply chosen to stay home.

You’ve always believed in monsters. You just never thought you would find one.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main

#kinktober 2020 #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere mha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha kinktober #bnha kinktober #tw: noncon #tw ovi #tw oviposition

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shepherds-of-haven · 3 years

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I hope you’re having a great day Lena! I was just wondering if we could have any fluff facts about the shepherds as a whole! Like fun tidbits of how they interact with each other, what some of them do if they have the same day off, does anyone host weekly game nights?? I hope that makes sense! Reading the recent short story on Patreon I love seeing how the characters interact with one another and now I need moreeeeeee🙏

Ooh, great question! I’m feeling curiously tapped dry at the moment, so I’ll probably have to reblog this as more ideas come to me; I’m so happy you’re enjoying the short story, btw!! 💖

Some group dynamic headcanons:

Many of them steal clothes from each other. Briony wears a cute sweater of Shery's (she asked), Ayla gets cold so she just takes one of Red's jackets from a chair (she didn't ask), Chase gives Tallys his scarf one day and Riel corders Trouble a pair of gloves from a fashion line he favors because his old ones are holey and they get into an argument about it... This leads to some recruits mistakenly thinking that the captains are all involved in some sort of mass relationship because they keep walking out of each other's rooms wearing each other's clothes. (The recruits believe a lot of really dumb stuff, if you couldn't tell. They LOVE gossip. It's like a competitive sport in the compound)

There is a weekly card game night, initiated and organized first by Chase, but it grows bigger over time, with snacks, cakes, drinks, and new games being procured! I'd actually say it's more like every ten-fourteen days or so than on any set weekday, and is typically proposed by anyone who senses that they or others need to blow off some steam. They all tend to meet in a private common room and either just chill and play some card games and casually drink and listen to music, or they get LOUD and raucous and play more risque non-card games (like Question or Command/Truth or Dare). The loud nights are more like once a month or bi-monthly, though! They take place in the captains' lounge so dumb recruits don't get to join! It's rare that they're in there all doing the same thing, though: maybe half will be at the table playing card games while others will be broken up into smaller groups, say arm-wrestling in the corner or playing chess at the smaller table or reading, but they're all there! Game nights are almost never held unless everyone is there, which is extraordinarily difficult to schedule, but they all make an effort to make it happen--even those who first had to be dragged into it, like Blade or Riel!

Speaking of chess games, Red and Riel have a standing game where they complete at least four more moves every night that they're around and able to meet up after dinner. Planning their next move helps them both break up the monotony of the day, and it's something they enjoy immensely. However, whenever he gets called away on a mission, Red gets sick with worry that Riel's been cooking up all sorts of schemes while he's been gone, so sometimes on the road he has, like, a schematic that he doodles on trying to anticipate Riel's next move, and it's very nerdy and ramps up in joking Anxiety. Riel, graciously, goes easier on him on nights after he comes back from long trips, though he denies it

Similarly, Blade and Trouble have a standing training session once a week where they just beat the crap out of each other. This is generally where they do the majority of their talking

Briony and Ayla first had an agreement that they would get the other one up if they overslept (Briony tends to be the one who oversleeps while Ayla is better about being up at dawn, but Ayla is really grouchy if she went to bed late and Briony is the only one who can handle her), which morphed into doing runs and sparring together at dawn and having breakfast frequently!

The girls have a standing spa night once a month where they all get together in a room (usually Shery’s) and basically do sleepover stuff and relax and chat and catch up for a few hours. This also sometimes involves showing each other new outfits that they bought that month! Sometimes there are even group baths in the big common bath, but these are rarer because Shery is shy and Tallys doesn’t like sitting in hot water getting pruny

Chase and Trouble drag Red and Halek to go drinking with them around once a month; sometimes Blade is persuaded to go if Trouble can get the drop on him and punch him hard enough to wind him. It’s complicated

Riel and Shery, of course, have tea together once a week! You’re not allowed if you can’t bring a chill vibe (Riel’s rules). Tallys, Lavinet, Halek, and Red are occasional visitors; Briony is allowed on a good day. Blade would be allowed but he has 0 interest

Similarly, Lavinet hosts a weekly brunch, either in a courtyard or at some restaurant in town! Typically it’s a girl thing and Ayla, Briony, and Shery are the most consistent attendees, but Chase has snuck his way in there often, and Riel, Halek, or Red pop up occasionally!

Tallys and Halek cook together! It’s not all that often and doesn’t seem to have any set way of materializing--it just happens somehow--but they both very much enjoy it! Sometimes they cook dinner for the whole group and have a little dinner party that they both secretly get excited for! Sometimes Shery bakes the dessert!

Riel noticed that Tallys has a little garden that she spends time weeding, so he sends gardening tools or special seeds when he thinks she needs them and she leaves baskets of vegetables or vases of flowers in his office. All of this is done without exchanging a word

Chase sporadically teaches Briony acrobatics and things like tightrope walking, just randomly whenever they’re both idle. She teaches him how to gut people with bare fists and also sometimes they paint!

Caine caught Red grazing in the pantry late one night and now it’s like a Thing where they pass each other in the kitchen and Red sort of just looks the other way re: Caine’s bedtime and what on earth he’s doing up so late and Caine doesn’t tell anybody that Red is just absent-mindedly eating a loaf of bread at 2 AM because he was too busy working to remember to eat dinner. It’ll be like, “there’s some turkey leftover from dinner in the cold box” “oh hey, Caine. thanks. ...so, what’s the news from the midnight watch tonight?” “i’m going to go hunt ghosts on the seventh floor with my friends!” “...okay! have fun!”

Lavinet has a monthly shopping trip where she updates her wardrobe, and it is very common for others to accompany her around the city and just shop while they drop! Common partners are Shery, Briony, Riel, Chase, and once memorably Blade, who didn’t know what he was in for!

Trouble and Ayla are wildly competitive and keep arm-wrestling each other for money; this becomes a bi-weekly sporting event that is eagerly attended and bet upon by third parties

There was ONE group karaoke night. ONE. Most of them got so blackout drunk that they swore to never do it again. Even now, several of them go green whenever they hear a popular bar song (“Don’t Piss Where You Plant Your Flowers”) being sung, especially badly

The game of "telephone" gets really bad in their group. It's like, Shery will say to Briony that she's worried because she thought Riel looked a bit peaky and feverish. Briony will say in passing to Trouble that Riel is getting sick and Shery is worried. Trouble will say to Tallys that Shery is worried sick because Riel is bedridden. Tallys will be mixing herbs and Chase will ask what for and Tallys will reply that Riel is sick, but because she's mixing herbs, Chase will surmise that the sickness must be quite advanced, and will later say, "Damn, have you seen Riel? Seems like he's really sick." Red will interpret this as "I have seen Riel for myself and have determined that he's extremely ill." At least four people will bust into Riel's room, expecting him to be on the verge of death, despite the fact that they saw Riel that morning. Riel will be fine and very annoyed at the intrusion.

They rarely go out as a group to bars and establishments outside of the compound (too chaotic as well as risky, for one thing, and also, recruits don't need to see their superiors like hanging out of bushes and dancing on tabletops drunk out of their minds, and also, "Mages can't drink" (lol)), but when they do deem it a worthy occasion (Trouble's birthday, say), the girls are very punctual when getting ready, and the boys are almost always extremely late due to various shenanigans (Chase forgot that he put a booby trap on Red’s door, covering Red with flour, or a cat somehow slips into Trouble’s room and steals, like, a detonator or an important key, and they have to go chasing it across the city). This has led to the girls coming late on purpose in order to even out their arrival, but mysteriously, this has only led to even later start times, meaning they often don’t get started until like 10 or 11 PM when the most well-intentioned souls meant to be in bed by midnight... that never happens, either!

One such night once led to them ending up on a ridge in the Sun’s Embrace, like a mile outside of the city, in order to watch the sun rise together, because hiking in the dark while blasted out of their minds sounded like a really good idea. They all made it, and the dawn was spectacular, but the moment was ruined when Tallys said softly, “It’s the beginning of a beautiful new day--” punctuated by Trouble abruptly throwing up in a bush and Riel just flat-out passing out

#Shepherds of Haven #group #group dynamic #all characters #found family #drinking #cw: alcohol #drunk #shenanigans #party #parties #long #long post

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

never doubt me {cassian andor}

summary: after falling into the hands of the empire, a situation of life and death forces you and cassian to finally talk about your feelings {for @megmeg-chan and i am sO sorry it’s taken me so long to do this}

summary: language, mentions of injury, talks ab death/loss in a canon kinda way

enjoy!! i haven’t written for cassian in so long and i forgot how much i loved him, so expect more of him in the future😌

- jazz

Cassian Andor was a filthy liar.

No, deep breath. He wasn't that bad.

The situation was just really fucking irritating and, in all likelihood, making your anger towards him a little more irrational. It wasn't really even his fault either. He'd told you incessantly that the mission was going to go well, and that you both going to be fine. Like, totally fiiiine, and that you would both get into the base without trouble and reunite in the middle, near the Imperial comms system. It was just that neither of you had planned for or expected stormtroopers to be present -- he'd gotten away in one piece, but you hadn't been so lucky.

That brings us to now: a cell, with two stormtroopers parked outside and quite literally no sign of Cassian anywhere. You knew he'd be looking for you; in fact, you didn't doubt it once. There was a sort of unspoken pact between you that you would always rescue one another; always have each other's backs and never leave the other behind. It was born from the fact that friendships were hard to forge in your line of work, and what you and Cassian had was rare. Not even just in the Rebellion, but rather life in general. On the surface, you teased and ripped into one another to no end. The chemistry was almost suffocating for the people around you, because they could never get a word in edge ways. Then, if you dug a little deeper, there was something more. Something sweeter, something more supportive. You knew him better than he knew himself and in return, he could read you like his favourite novel (though, admittedly, it did sometimes feel like you were missing a few pages. Human complexity and all that).

‘Do you feel like speaking now?’ The modulated voice of one of the stormtroopers came from the other side of your cell door.

‘I’ll die before telling you jackshit.’ You muttered. Hopefully that was more of a statement and less of a prophecy.

The trooper snorted. ‘Okay, sweetheart-’

‘- call me that again and I will shove that blaster sideways up your ass.’ You spat.

‘The only thing you’re doing is rotting here.’

With that, he turned his back to you again.

You slumped further down the wall, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete etching through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was cold in here. Really, really fucking cold, and Cassian had said you wouldn’t need a jacket. Then again, he’d said a lot of things. And again, none of it was his fault, but you cursed yourself for so blindly listening to him. It was nice that you took everything the other said as gospel, even if it came back to bite you in the ass every so often.

‘A word of advice-’

‘- I don’t want any advice.’ You turned away from the trooper, pulling you knees to your chest.

‘The sooner you talk, the less painful it’ll be.’ He ignored your refusal.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by it. You’d been part of the Rebellion long enough to have heard stories -- stories of torture, stories of war and the the kind of horrors that people often took to the grave. You had a fair few of your own, and so did Cassian. That was probably why he’d become so important to you. He was one of the only people in the galaxy who truly understood the downfalls of being a Rebel spy. Your cause was more important to you than anything (well, almost anything) and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, but there were times like this where you wondered if it was all worth it. Would there ever come a day where the Empire truly fell, once and for all? And would you even be around to see it? Would Cassian?

Speaking of the devil, where the fuck was he? He never usually took this long. A few hours at most, but you’d long surpassed that. You could only very barely see the sky through the tiny window, but the sky had faded from powder blue to a dark navy, signalling it had been well over half a day. That was bad for multiple reasons -- the first being that the longer you were here, the more likely Cassian was to assume the worst and stop searching. Secondly, and perhaps most hauntingly, was that each passing second brought you closer to the Imps dragging you out the cell and taking you for questioning. And questioning, in their books, didn’t involve much talking. Go figure.

The injuries you sustained in your capture were bad enough; a bust lip, bruised eye and twisted ankle never made for much comfort. Even less so when you couldn’t get medical attention. The fact you knew it would be the least of your problems in a few hours made it all that much worst.

You’d never doubted Cassian Andor before. Not once. Couldn’t even fathom it, truth be told. He always came through for you; always saved your ass, whether it be from yourself or from Imps. He was your person. That’s the only way you could have put it.

But, above all, he was a human being. Not a super hero, or a miracle worker. He could only do so much and you knew he would. He would follow every lead and every clue to try and get to you, but that’s all he could do. If he couldn’t find you, that wasn’t him on him. You doubted that he would think the same, and when you heard the lock to your cell open, you could only hope and pray that he knew that. That you weren’t going to blame him for what was about to happen, or hold it against him.

‘It’s time.’ The stormtrooper announced. ‘Hope you can handle a bit of pain.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I can handle anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ He guffawed. ‘Hands out.’

‘C’mon, man.’ You murmured. ‘My legs gone, my lips bust and my head feels someone’s dropped an iron anvil on it. You don’t need to cuff - ouch!’

You let out a squeak as he grabbed your wrists, tugging them forward and shoving a pair of metal cuffs on them. Was this really it? The end? Was your name gonna be the next one on the list of people lost in the Rebellion? That was if anybody even noticed.

Cassian would. Of course, Cassian would. It hurt your heart to think that you wouldn’t see him again, or get to say a proper goodbye. The last time you’d seen him, you’d been dragged away from him kicking and screaming. He’d been so close, and if he’d been just a little nearer when they’d got you, he might have been able to save you, to stop you from falling into the hands of the Empire. You always figured that if you were gonna die in the field, he’d be by your side. The dumbassery you so often found yourselves in usually happened together.

The walls of the Imperial base were dark - as if you’d expected anything else. It was hardly like the place was going to look like a bright, airy Ikea showroom. The only light came from the thousands of tiny red and blue buttons flickering on the wall, illuminating the hallways in what would have been a pretty glow if the circumstances weren’t so fucking miserable. Talk about a high way to hell.

You took another left, the trooper’s grip on you tightening as you neared some double towards the end. Yep, here it was. This is where you met your maker. And from what you’d heard, the six-foot-something guy in a black mask did not take prisoners. Not that he was the one you were thinking of. No, that was Cassian. Completely and entirely Cassian; just his face and his presence and his everything at the back of your mind, the last thing you could think of before you were about to die for your cause-

-you let out an oof! as the stormtrooper suddenly pulled you to the ground, practically using you as a human shield against the blaster fire and smoke grenade that had just come from behind you. You tried to use your elbows to push him off, but with the cuffs and your already existing injuries, he easily overpowered you. Also, you were too busy coughing from the smoke to even think about making a getaway.

Tumbling forward, you fell onto your hands and knees. The trooper’s gun clattered to the ground, and you used your good leg to kick it further out the way, eyes not moving from the cloud of smoke that come out of the grenade. The red and blue lights were beating down on it, casting a purple glow over the shadow of whoever had thrown it, acting as a guide as they finally emerged. With a blaster in one hand and the other curled into a fist, your best friend had never quite looked so handsome, especially under the violet illuminations.

‘Cassian!’ Despite everything, you couldn’t help but grin.

‘Duck.’ He demanded.

You did as he said, flopping back to the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut and covering your head, you stayed there for a moment. There was another blast, and then the trooper’s body fell beside yours with a dull thud!

Then, in what must have been two of most contrasting feelings ever, a warm pair of hands found yours. Cassian’s, undoubtedly. You would have known them anywhere. He pulled you up from the cold ground, warm palms finding your face as they ghosted over your cheeks.

‘It’s okay.’ His voice was soft. ‘You can open your eyes.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘How badly are you hurt?’ He asked. ‘Because we need to move fast.’

‘My foot’s pretty wrangled.’ You said.

Without another word, Cassian threw an arm over your shoulders, tucking it under your arms to support you.

‘Lean against me.’ He instructed. ‘The exit isn’t too far-’

‘- what about the other troopers?’ You asked.

‘I dealt with them on my way in.’

And dealt with them, he certainly had. The men were practically laying in unconscious piles (he only ever intended to maim, but never kill), working as some kind of fucked up map out of a twisted and horrible maze. The pain in your leg only grew worst as you moved, your good leg beginning to ache from carrying all the weight. With all your attention focused ahead of you for potential enemies, you didn’t even notice how close you were to stumbling over -- not until you fell back onto the cold lino floors.

‘Hey.’ Cassian dropped beside you. ‘Look at me, okay, just...look at me.’

You glanced up, tired eyes meeting his warm, brown ones. ‘It really hurts, Cass.’

‘We’re really close now.’ He said. ‘Two more minutes. Can you do that? For me?’

‘Yeah.’ You took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I can.’

(Because really, for him, you’d do anything.)

Cassian helped you back up, pressing one of his blasters into your hand. His arm returned to hold you by the waist, gripping you a little tighter this time. Your leg was practically screaming in pain, a dull ache shooting from your ankle up to your knee. You had to remind yourself that in a few minutes, it would all be over - and not in the way you thought it was going to be over an hour ago. Over, as in this whole ordeal would simply be something to report back to your bosses at base, and not your final moments. The fact you ever let yourself accept that fate and think that Cassian wouldn’t come for you was something else entirely in itself.

You almost cried with relief when you saw his battered old ship docked outside the base. You normally cried for other reasons when you saw it - usually ones to do with the rusty old engines and creaking sound it insisted on making whenever it flew - but right then, you had never been happier to see it. Even if the insides smelt weirdly of petrol and oil, and the seats in the cockpit were made of uncomfortable cracked leather, you practically threw yourself on board.

Neither you nor Cassian said anything for a while. His attention was completely on getting away from the base and avoiding TIE fighters - something he did without ever moving his hand from your thigh - and yours was on steadying your breathing and heartbeat. It had been a rough twelve hours to say the least.

Once the ship had lurched into hyperspace, he turned in his chair to face you. He held your gaze for a moment, before opening his arms out and letting you flop from your own seat and into his chest. They tightly wrapped around you, one hand softly your head to his body and the other gently rubbing up and down your back. You had to squeeze your eyes shut to stop your tears from spilling.

‘I’m sorry.’ He murmured.

‘For what?’ You peered up at him with a frown.

‘Not finding you sooner.’ He replied. ‘Or for even letting you get caught in the first place-’

‘- Cassian, stop.’ You pulled back and tangled his hands in yours. ‘Once I get some bactaspray, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘But you almost weren’t.’ He shot back. ‘If I was just a few minutes later and you could have been a thousand times worst, or even...gone completely.’

‘That’s beside the point.’ You softly sighed. ‘It’s doesn’t matter would have beens or could have beens. I am here and I will be okay.’

‘You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just...I want to protect you, you know? And I failed.’

‘You don’t need to protect me, Cass.’ You shook your head with a soft smile. ‘Actually, no, today I did but you pulled through.’

‘I don’t need to, but I want to.’ Cassian murmured.

He’d done a pretty good job at sitting on his feelings for the last few years. Pushed them down when he felt the urge to tell you, and ignored them entirely when they got really intense. But that had been when the threat of completely losing you was just that: a threat. A distant possibility, and one that you were both too busy living your lives to fully consider. Now, however, you’d come close. Too close. Cassian had come face-to-face with a reality where you were gone, and one where he’d never actually told you how he felt.

‘You know I love you, right?’ He quietly said.

‘Yeah, I know.’ You nodded.

‘No, I mean I love you.’

You peered up at him, realising what he was getting at. You did know. In fact, it had very much been an unspoken thing between you for a very, very long time. It was really just a matter of saying it - but that was always the hardest part, right?

‘I know.’ You repeated. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

You softly laughed. ‘Of course I do.’

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and pulled you back against his chest, chin resting atop your ahead. ‘Good.’

You stayed like that for a few minutes; it was undoubtedly a deeper conversation you were going to have later on, but it felt good to have it out in the open. So good, in fact, that it momentarily made you forget the last day entirely. Instead of pondering on it, you let yourself get lost entirely in Cassian’s presence, and the feeling of his body against yours and and his arms holding you. If you could have it your way, you would have stayed like this forever. The rest of the galaxy could wait.

‘I’m sorry if you thought I was going to make in time.’ He said quietly.

‘I didn’t.’ Your voice was slightly muffled by his chest. ‘Not once.’

‘I love you.’ Cassian said it more firmly this time. It still completely felt weird to say, and even more so to see you smile and say it back.

‘I love you too.’

He dipped his head down, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. The feeling of your lips against his was familiar and foreign all at once; it was something he’d gone over in his head a thousand times, but it was nothing like either of you had imagined. It was better. Sweeter, in the kind of way that gave you butterflies in your tummy and made you feel giddy. It was worlds away from the usual dread and bloodshed that came with being in the Rebellion.

But that was quintessentially Cassian. He was everything that the war wasn’t: sweet and constant and warm. Somebody as beautiful and as caring as him both did and didn’t belong in the Rebellion. Did, because he was a good man who wanted to fight for the right thing. Didn’t, because he constantly risked his life for the greater good and you couldn’t quite stomach that idea.

‘I’ll always come back for you.’ He lightly brushed his hand against your cheek. ‘Never doubt me.’

‘I won’t.’ You promised. ‘Not ever.’

tags: @megmeg-chan @karasong @bb8sworld @marvelinsanity @poestardust @etherealsanakin @bo-kryze @punkbach @phoenixhalliwell

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars fluff #cassian andor fluff #rogue one imagines #star wars angst

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fieryhonesty · 3 years

Text

“Story’s based on a request from a Nonnie and they are right! Our Xiao needs hugs and rest a bit.”

Words: 1910

Genre: fluff, f!reader

Xiao is always keeping things for him. He will never seek company to share his burdens. After all, there is no trouble which will last long enough, he says. However he can't deny there are moments when he is fed up. Be it the never ending war he fights or his own problems. Which are having roots back in history.

Sometimes there's too much to handle at once, yet he stands tall and faces it headon. Never argues or falters with decisions. As long as it means he can protect Liyue.

To anyone who has never seen him or rarely, he looks like a strong and cold man. But is he really like this? He is an Adeptus, he has seen a lot and experienced some battle scars. Was Xiao always like this? Back in the days when all other Yaksha existed.

Many things happened in his life. He can't even count or remember it all. But all those things made him who he is now. Although there are things which still surprise or confuse him.

He never liked showing himself in front of mortals. There are just a few ones which he tolerates or even allows to talk to him. If he is in a good mood of course. The ones who know Xiao also know about keeping distance when he is upset.

But there's one mortal whose boldness or maybe stupidity never ceases to amaze him. He told you so many times to leave him be, added harsh words and yet... you didn't turn away. Instead approached and offered a companionship.

He eventually gave up with chasing the silly female away. At first he didn't know why she was so stubborn. Mortals are strange but you are like one or two levels stranger than anyone else. Just why do you wish to spend time with somebody like him?

You are like a bridge between the silent and closed up Adeptus and mortal realm. Part of him is still hesitant and refuses to share his burdens. He might have allowed you to stay beside him, be it in silence or tell him what you did that day. What strange things happened or something. He would just sit there and listen. But none of this means he will let his guard down. He will always be fully aware of what's happening around.

You are often asking yourself: does he ever rest? As you know him for a while you are able to recognize when he is really sad and you shouldn't say much. Or when he is quite alright and willing to listen to your rambling until you fall asleep. The fact you can peacefully sleep in Xiao's presence amazes him.

Today is one of those nights when he would have preferred to be just alone. But why does he feel this burning desire to pay you a visit? Is it because you didn't come for a few days and he got worried? No. That can't be it. Xiao has no attachment to anybody, especially mortals.

Truth to be told, he feels tired and despite feeling the way he feels. He decides to silently knock on your door. At first he thought he knocked too lightly. For a brief second he thought to himself to leave. Why is he here anyway? But then he heard your footsteps from behind the door.

He feels so conflicted. He shouldn't be here, seeking anyone's company. Solitude and sadness are nothing to him.

When you open the door of your apartment, the cold is immediately making you shiver. Not wasting any second grabbing Xiao's wrist and pulling him inside. The cold is too much for you. How the heck he can just stand there and not shiver?!

Be it anyone else touching him, he would have asked them if they do have a death wish. He got used to your touch at least a bit. You sometimes gently squeezed his hand in a friendly gesture. To assure him you are there, willing to listen to anything or just sit silently and observe the sky.

Letting go of his wrist and looking into his golden eyes. As usually his expression is the same but you can feel he is not alright. His shoulders are unusually down and overall his posture is different.

"Is something wrong?"

You ask with a slightly tilted head to the side. You are not even aware of this, you do it automatically all the time. It's kind of cute but don't expect the Adeptus will say it out loud. He is already confused. He wanted to be alone, why did he come here. He is clearly delaying your bedtime. He should have never come. But the words escaping his lips are even more confusing him.

"You didn't come..."

Is he really worried about a mortal? Didn't he promise to himself to never get any attachment to anyone? Not even to another Adepti.

Your next move is really bold and unexpected. Xiao gasps in surprise as you wrap your arms around him.

"Y/n? What are you...?"

Perhaps embracing him would not be the brightest idea if you consider how little he knows about human interactions. But you couldn't help yourself. Feeling a bit guilty for making the poor man worried. He already has a lot on his plate.

"I'm sorry if I did worry you."

You said as you gently rubbed his back, drawing circles in a soothing manner.

It took him a while to realize what was going on. He seen this act between other mortals but never cared what does it mean. It's just two people are in close proximity, touching each other. But there's something strange about the act.

Your warmth.

He didn't feel cold while being outside, he is used to it. But when he feels your warmth he can't help it but feel a bit at ease. When you pull back to check on him, he feels a little... sad? Perhaps he missed the opportunity to repay the act.

"You know. There's something I had noticed about you, Xiao."

He lifts an eyebrow at you. Unable to contain the curiosity.

"How much do you trust me?"

You ask while trying to keep your smile. Aware of how much the question doesn’t make sense with what you said before.

Xiao on the other hand is pondering over your question. How much does he trust a mortal like you? And why are you asking him in the first place?

"That's stupid thing to ask. You should have known the answer already."

There we go again. Xiao and his not so sugar coated words. Surely you know he has at least a bit more trust in you than other humans. But would he let you touch him even more? No matter how you put it, it will sound wrong.

"Well then... it just crossed my mind out of nowhere but. Uh... There's something that always bugged me. Do you ever rest or relax at all? I mean yes you do just hang around at Wangshu here and now. But I mean like a real rest..."

You had to stop yourself. Feeling how your monologue was getting worse by each said word.

"I don't need to-"

"Yes, you do."

Oh no. It slipped out faster than you could think of it. He is silent, eyes slightly narrowed. Did you anger him? It's quite easy to do it after all.

"What do you propose then?"

"Eh?"

"Don't 'eh' at me. If you think I need to relax then you should have an idea how."

You are finally on the same page. Sometimes you hate your brain to jump into way too fast conclusions. You motion for him to follow you to your living room where you both sit on the sofa. Telling him to sit turned back to you.

You are sitting behind him. What are you planning? Ah! A gasp escaped his lips making him feel embarrassed. You just barely touched his shoulders. Not even using too much force, just a gentle squeeze to test waters.

"So, can I give you something that my mom calls a medicine for tired muscles?"

A simple massage. Just by a single touch you could feel how tense his muscles are. He nods. Being glad you can't see his face now. Biting his bottom lip. He didn't know how much his back actually hurts. Not paying attention to it anymore. But now, he is melting under your touch.

You try to be gentle but also applying some pressure to help his muscles to relax. You had learned how to massage when you were teen as your mother always had back pain from her work. This was the fastest help, along with pain killers.

Xiao deeply exhales, closing his eyes. He hates to admit it but this feels good, maybe too good. Perhaps he could let his guard down for a bit, at least for now. Letting your skilled fingers caress him. Exhaustion and fatigue is slowly getting under his skin. And this warm feeling, he wants more. Just like when you embraced him a while ago.

You noticed how much he relaxed under your hands. You can't help it but smile from ear to ear. The mighty Guardian, always so rigid can't endure the pleasant feeling.

"If you are tired you can sleep over, I don't mind. Unless... you have plans to mess up your back just right when I fix them up?"

You had secretly hoped he wouldn't disappear when you are done. You know when he leaves your place he will go back to his stiff attitude again.

"Somebody has to keep you safe at night. Take it as a payment..."

You giggle as he says that. You could tease him about admitting he likes this but decided to rather not.

When you were done and brought him a spare blanket you noticed his blush. Not saying anything and just offering the warm cover. What you did not expect was him grabbing your wrist.

"Xiao?"

"How can... I keep you safe if you are in the other room?"

Oh damn. Your brain is preoccupied with why he just won't admit he wants to keep you close.

"Um, you want to move the sofa into my bedroom?"

He groans. Why you must play dumb now? All he wants is more of your warmth. When you embraced him, when you touched him. He felt at ease which is new to him. Is it too much to ask for more? Well, maybe he should actually ask and be straight for once.

"Just... stay close."

"Oh-"

That escalated quickly. For both of you. You decided to spare him from more suffering as you could see his face was slowly turning to tomato color. And you? You weren't much better. Turning off the lights before sliding under the blanket. For once being glad to have a bigger sofa.

As you are both laying on your sides you feel Xiao's hand hesitantly go over you to pull you closer to him. Don't even think of escaping when he falls asleep. He has you secure. And certainly he won't admit any of this the next morning.

He is tired and confused by his behavior but he decided to blame it on his fatigue. You better don't mention any of this. Not even the way he is having a firm grip of your clothes. Or how quickly he fell asleep.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #f!reader #xiao #fluff a lot of it #fiery request

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milliedazzledust · 3 years

Text

Unspoken (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request by @screechingdreamercollectorsblog : the reader lost all her family and also a twin sister. She’s in love with Bucky but he doesn't know and no one knows her story except Steve but he never told it as it was her decision. One day Wanda tells her "you don't know what it’s like to lose somebody especially a twin." And Reader said "Actually I do." And then She walks away. Bucky heard It and goes to talk to her and also they confess each other feelings. Also She starts an amazing friend ship with Wanda.

Words: 3183 words

A/N: So many ideas, I feel like this needs to be a several part story. Thanks for the request, this was fun to write -

She thought a lot about her family. The memory of their death, the circumstances that led to it, the guilt. It was all a constant reminder, every day, of what she lost. She often felt like she was walking with a shadow on her back, consuming what was left of light, making her into this gloomy person everyone was so afraid to get close to. In a way, she was glad. Her guilt made her believe living this way was her sentence and she couldn’t allow anybody else to carry her burden. One person knew though, the only hope on her pathway. Steve Rogers. He hadn’t been bold enough to ask her up front but instead waited, close enough so she knew he was there, until she was ready to confide in him. Late one night, he had found her crying on the rooftop of the Avengers tower. Silently, he had put a blanket on her shoulders and had sit next to her. Without looking at him, she had told him everything. There had been no judgment from the Captain, not even a look of pity. He promised he wouldn’t tell a soul and after that, she grew closer from the man she considered now family.

That’s how Steve picked up on what was happening in front of his eyes before anybody else. Everyday, he would catch Bucky’s eyes lingering on her. The Soldier often asked Steve about her, he could guess the sadness behind every broken smile. Behind her cracks, he could almost see his own. She reminded him a lot of what it had mean to become the Winter Soldier, of the pain his mind had endured as Hydra tore it into pieces. While he was curious of her past, he also understood that whatever it was, she hadn’t dealt with it. The grief was evident and he wanted nothing more than to help her anyway he could, but every time he took a step toward her, she took three more backward. Steve assured him it wasn’t his fault. They both could see the internal struggle within her, the raging battle between self-inflicted pain and sheer will to live again. So far, she hadn’t give in and instead opted for an illusion only Steve and Bucky weren’t falling for.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the overbearing weight of grief. That specific day marked the one year anniversary of their battle in Sokovia. There was an eerie, gloomy atmosphere inside the compound. For the Avengers, it was the reminder of a difficult battle, of many lives lost, of victory. For Wanda Maximoff, it was the day she lost her brother. She had barely left her bedroom and no one dared go speak to her. Natasha and Vision had gone to see how she was doing but she had refused the company. They could all hear her crying and had collectively silently agreed that it was better to let her process her feelings alone. Y/N was debating wether she should follow their example. She had been standing close to Wanda’s bedroom door for the past hour when she felt a presence next to her.

“You should go talk to her” She heard someone whisper.

She turned her head, her eyes landing on a pretty concerned Captain.

“Wil it really make a difference ?” She asked.

“She’s hurting” Steve answered. “Just like you”

The woman dropped her head.

“I’m not sure, I .. I won’t know what to say”

“You’ll know exactly what to say, Y/N. You’ve both lost a lot”

“So have you. So have everybody here”

He sadly nodded.

“Why does it have to be me ?”

“Because we’ve all grieved. We made peace with whatever happened to us. We don’t feel sadness, anger or guilt just thinking about whomever we lost.” He explained. “You do. Just like her.”

She pursed her lips.

“I can’t pretend to understand, Y/N, because I don’t. I see the mountain that is your pain everyday when I look into your eyes. And, behind this door is a friend who’s going through the same loss you’ve experienced. Even if you haven’t dealt with the death of your sister, you know what it was like for her to lose Pietro, to live without him, to not be capable to let yourself be alive when half of you isn’t anymore”

Hearing his words was enough to reopen the gigantic wound inside her chest. She knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, encouraging her with a soft smile.

“Alright. I’ll go”

She glanced at Wanda’s bedroom before looking back at Steve and swallowed the lump in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she closed the distance and knocked. Not waiting for an answer, she walked inside. She knew if she had ask Wanda, the Witch would have let her wait without an answer until she left.

The young woman was sitting on her bed, her gaze drifting into space. Y/N wasn’t sure she had even acknowledge her presence. All she could see was her soul bleeding an ocean through her eyes. When she sat next to her on the bed, Wanda tried to brush the tears away but it was useless. She couldn’t stop crying.

“I’m sorry you lost him” Y/N whispered.

She cursed under her breath, knowing those were in no way comforting words.

“If you came to tell me you understand, you can leave” She replied with a thick accent.

For a moment, Y/N did not say a word. She was thinking hard of something that could appease her friend, but her mind was blank.

“Are you also going to ask me if I’m okay” She heard Wanda say.

“What is the point ? I know you’re not”

She sighed.

“I’ve always hated that question. How are you suppose to know how you are if all you can feel is emptiness… It’s easier to say yes, put on a smile and turn your head”

“Is that why you’re here ? Are you expecting a yes or the truth ?”

“I already know the truth”

Wanda humorlessly chuckle.

“Are you going to pretend you know what I’m feeling ?” She told her with irony

“That’s the thing. I don’t need to pretend”

She felt her friend tense beside her.

“You should leave”

“Wanda…”

“No!” She shouted, getting up to put a distance between them. “I don’t need you to tell me I’m gonna be alright! I don’t need to hear it will hurt less with time, that I will forget ! Because I won’t, okay, I won’t!”

She started sobbing. For a split second, Y/N thought about hugging her, but she knew that this wouldn’t be a good idea. When her sister died, she couldn’t bear the hugs. They were so full of light and hope, such a bright contrast to the dark that was surrounding her. So she stayed on the bed, and watched her friend break down. Wanda needed the pain, she needed the anger, because they would inevitably lead to the last stage of grief. To life.

“Stop pretending to get this … this torture, because I can assure you, you don’t” Wanda vehemently told her, pacing around the room. “My heart is broken, okay ? It’s … It’s shattered. Not even in pieces, because he took those with him when he died.”

“Wanda …”

“No! You don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody !” Wanda yelled back. “Especially a twin!”

“Actually, I do”

Wanda instantly stopped walking and turned back to her friend, surprised. She watched Y/N playing with her hands, trying to keep the tears at bay, her eyes fixed on her lap, refusing to catch a glimpse of pity when she’ll start talking.

“It.. It doesn’t stop. The pain, I mean. It’s like this overbearing weight that crushes you every single minute of every single day. And when you get a moment to breath, a moment where you don’t feel your heart might explode of sadness, you feel guilty. So all that’s left of you now is pain and guilt. I can’t tell you it’ll get better, because it never did for me.”

She brushed the tears on her cheek as Wanda slowly sat back next to her.

“The world stopped when I lost her, my twin I mean” She continued, starring into space. “And I try, I swear I try to make it work again, but to this day all I keep asking myself is why her … why her and not…me. She was so much stronger than me, she deserved …”

A sob escaped her lips, preventing her from speaking.

“Steve told me I would be able to help you, because I understand your pain. But I can’t. What good would it do to you if I told you I feel like dying every time I think about my memories of her ?”

She humorlessly laughed.

“What good would it do if I confess I don’t want to live because I’m scarred of forgetting ? That I can’t breathe because each breath feels like I’ve cheated death ? That I’m becoming a void of darkness silently sinking ?”

They stayed silence before Wanda’s hand slowly came to hold hers. They spent a short moment without talking. Two woman with broken soul that understood each other on a level no one else’s could.

“You know ..” The Witch started to mutter. “Vis’ told me something once, and it stuck up on me ever since.”

“What was it ?”

“What is grief, if not love persevering”

A tear roll down Y/N’s cheeks, the words stabbing her right through the chest. Suddenly, she was up on her feet, alert and disoriented. This was sheer pain like she had rarely known, wide open scars bleeding through her soul.

“I can’t” She breathlessly told her friend. “I … I’m … I’m sorry Wanda I ca..”

And she fled the room. As soon as she stepped outside of it, she bumped into a muscular chest. Stopping in her tracks, she looked up. That’s when she saw it, what she dreaded the most. A look of pity. Bucky was standing in front of her, searching her eyes, his mouth open like the words were on the tip of his tongue yet he couldn’t voice any of them. He raised an arm toward her, a reflex to comfort the woman he cared the most about, but she was gone in a second. He turned back to glance at Wanda. The woman sadly smile and shook her head.

“Go get her” She simply told him.

And just like that, he was gone. He started by her bedroom, but she wasn’t there. He went to the lab, asked Tony and Bruce if they had seen her, but she wasn’t there. He passed by the gym, than their living room, but again, she was not there. He was almost running inside the building, going anywhere he could think of, but there was no sign of her. He was very frustrated when he crossed path with his best friend.

“Wha …” Steve started to ask.

“Y/N” Barnes only answered, almost out of breath.

The Captain hummed, watching his distress, knowing it was a bad time to ask him about it.

“She’s on the roof”

Bucky didn’t wait, not even hearing what Steve said next, and fled. He didn’t take the elevator and rushed up the stairs. It was a long way up but he did not care. All his mind was focused on was closing the distance between them. Finally, she was there. Sitting on the edge of the building, the sun shining so bright above their head.

“Please tell me you were not thinking of jumping” He said, half joking.

She didn’t turn around to look at him. She had felt his presence before he was even near her.

“The thought crossed my mind” She admitted.

He didn’t want to know if she was joking. Quietly, he stepped next to her and sat on the border, his legs dangling in the air.

“What happened ?” He inquired.

“I just … I thought I could help Wanda and…”

“That’s not what I’m asking” He cut her. “What happened to you Y/N ?”

She pursed her lips, turning for the first time to look back at him. She was almost expecting to see the pity in his eyes, but instead it had been replaced by worry.

“I had a family before the Avengers”

“A family you’ve lost” He guessed.

“…Yes. I couldn’t save them”

He raised his head toward her. She could see the millions of questions he had behind his stare. He was too polite to ask her but she knew he wanted to know. So she turned back to look at the garden in front of the compound, focused on the daisies Tony had insisted to have, and started to tell him her story.

“My parents were … scientists. Experts in genome manipulation. They were working for the government, for Shield. They discovered something important, something they wouldn’t tell us anything about. They started to get edgy, paranoiac, always looking over their shoulder. Whatever it was they found, they were scared. We fled America at the time. My sister and I, we didn’t understand what was happening, we didn’t get that … that they knew they were gonna die. That they were trying to keep us alive”

“What did they find ?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m here”

“I don’t understand”

She closed her eyes, remembering them.

“They experimented it on me”

“What ?”

He was shocked.

“We were in Stockholm at the time. One night, they took me to their lab, they said they needed me to work. I was seventeen, just so happy to be with them, so I said yes. Four days later, I woke up alone, surrounded by ashes and no memories. I found …” She stopped for a second, her lips quivering. “I found what was left of their bodies. My sister was there too. All of them, dead.”

Tears started to roll down her cheeks.

“I was convinced I killed them, I couldn’t move, I was just … stuck. So I stayed there, laying on the ground, next to their bodies, until Tony found me.”

“That’s how you came to live with Stark”

“Yes. He took me in, changed my name and my story, made me swear to never talk about this”

“Why ?”

“He helped me figure out what happened that night. My parents did succeed in their experiment. They made me … enhanced. That’s what they called it anyway”

“They gave you your powers” He guessed.

“Yes. The same day, Shield found them. While I was under, they put a bullet in their head. My sister was supposed to be sick, at home. But she sneaked out and hid in the lab. She just wanted to be with us. Shield tried to make it seen like it was an accident, a malfunction”

“An explosion”

She nodded.

“Yes. They blew up the lab, with all of us in there”

“But you didn’t die”

“I absorbed the blast”

“Oh…”

She brushed the tears off her face, looking at her trembling hands. It was useless to try to make them stop.

“I never found out who was behind their assassination, or what I am suppose to be”

“What you’re suppose to be ?” He repeated, surprised.

“They put their secret inside me, that’s how I came to be. But what is it, and what am I?”

He frowned, his mind working a thousand miles an hour.

“Do you really think this changes who you are ?” He asked her.

“I lost my identity, Bucky. I lost the person I was. Those powers, they turn me into something I’m not”

“Are you saying I’m the Winter Soldier? That I’m … not a person anymore but a program design to kill ?”

He knew the answer to that question, but he needed her to understand.

“Of course not!” She vehemently answered.

“This is the same fight, Y/N. Hydra might have wiped out my memories, but Bucky Barnes reappeared each time they tried to erase him, because this is who I am. My strength, my arm, my alter-ego, they don’t define who Bucky is. The kid that grew up in Brooklyn does”

“Do you really believe that ?”

“I believe we’ve been broken. But it doesn’t mean we can’t be fix”

His metal arm moved to hold her hand. When she turns around to look at him, he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear with his human hand before brushing his fingertips on her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I don’t know how many times you’ll need to hear this, Y/N, but we’re not beyond repair” He whispered.

A shiver ran up her spine at his whole demeanor. His shoulders held high, his eyes boring into hers, all she could see was his rage to live, his will to rebuilt stronger foundations around their broken pieces. No it was not pity anymore, nor was it worry. All she saw now was admiration.

“You and I, we are survivors” He said with force.

He was a warm light she had yearn to feel, fresh air she thought would never touch her skin again. Wordlessly, she laid her forehead on his chest and closed her eyes. She didn’t want this feeling to go away and wished to hard she could bottle up this moment with him forever. They stayed like this, her body against his, his hand entangled in her hair, his chin resting above her head, and for a moment none of them spoke.

“Why do I feel so guilty to have you” She muttered so low he almost didn’t hear her.

“Because you know I can bring you peace” He honestly answered next to her ear.

“If I let you in, if I take the risk to be hurt again and I lose you…”

“You won’t”

“You don’t know that for sure”

“I know I’ve got strong feelings for you, and they won’t go away”

“And I feel the same, but we’re gonna get hurt”

“Isn’t that what love is about ? Navigating between feelings so loud they can’t be shut down, even after death. Stop being so afraid to keep on living, Y/N.”

“Bucky …” She called, slowly raising her head to look at him.

“I’m not giving you a choice, doll.”

Before she could talk herself out of this, he closed the short distance between them and laid his lips on hers. Suddenly, what was a flame became a raging fire in the pit of her stomach. She could feel her heart pumping all the way to her ears, feel the tingling sensation of his fingertips against her skin, a sense of peace finally. This was raw emotions they were sharing, sparks of electricity they were making as their lips were moving. Their own world they were creating. A promise they were sealing.

“You’re gonna be okay” He assured her, kissing her forehead.

“Promise me you’ll stay, Bucky”

“For as long as you’ll let me” He finished.

She looked up at him with hope.

“I promise”

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier x reader #falcon and the winter soldier

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mrsbrekkers · 3 years

Note

Hello

I LOVED companionable silence, thank you very much!!

Can I request another one? Maybe a Jesper Fahey imagine? The reader is a part of the Dregs and Kaz trusts her and is like a brother but she has a rivalry with Jesper and he's jealous that Kaz trusts her but he finds the truth behind it. Maybe Kaz saved her from something.

Hope that made sense. Thank you <3

hello there friend! and of course! i had a LOT of fun writing for kaz :) and i adore writing for jesper, so this came to me pretty easily which is nice because for the past 3 days i had been on other requests that didn't give me inspo

this is really just the crows becoming annoyed at the bickering that reader and jesper do and locking them in a fridge to think out their bickering ways LMAO

reader is they/them as per usual in my jesper fics!

pairings! jesper x reader ( romantically implied ) / kaz x reader ( platonic ) / kaz x inej / nina x matthias all implied

warnings! none? swearing, all of the crows being done with reader and jesper being annoying, but also crows shipping reader and jesper haha

words! 3152

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

Fighting for the affection of Kaz Brekker was something Jesper Fahey never thought would happen. Maybe it wasn’t affection, but rather admiration? Trust? Whatever it was, he found himself seeking it, and Y/N was getting in his damned way. They’d joined the Dregs and instantly it felt like he’d been replaced. The rivalry started there, and slowly, over time, it became something the Crows dreaded. Especially when Kaz would purposefully pair the two together.

Which, in Jesper’s humble opinion? Was incredibly stupid.

“Who’s this?” Jesper asked Kaz, who had walked into a relatively slow day at the Crow Club, someone in tow behind him. It wasn’t unlike Kaz to bring in new Dreg members every once in a while. Actually, it was almost every week at this point. He had his ways.

“The newest Crow,” Kaz said, glancing back at the shadow behind him, nodding slightly. Watching the newest crow step forward, their eyes landed on Jesper first.

“Y/N,” was all they said, eyes scanning all of the crows. It was clear the Crows were a bit confused. What had enticed their boss to bring someone new in? Were they going to be working on a new job?

“What special ability do they have?” Nina asked. Knowing their boss, he didn’t bring in anybody that was like someone else they had. What would be the point?

“Super senses. Hearing, sight, smell, all of it, is heightened,” Y/N responded, stepping in front of Kaz, finally getting a full view of the other five Crows surrounding the room. It was clear to them that they were a bit confused, as anyone would be.

“You’re Grisha then?” Jesper asked, to which Y/N tilted their head in thought. Technically, yes, but a Grisha without a color, and one who’d never been seen or heard about before.

“Yes, but my Grisha kind doesn’t have a name, nor does it have any history.”

From there, Jesper wasn’t sure what initiated the rivalry. He could easily say that it was the fact that he missed being Kaz’s right hand. But he also didn’t enjoy Y/N’s constant critiquing of how he would do on jobs. Then again, he did the same. It was a constant back and forth between the two. The two could barely do anything together. They found themselves bickering over the smallest incidents. One was late to their post? Bickering. One had won a hand of cards? Bickering. One had drunk the orange juice meant for one of them? Bickering, bickering, bickering. The team was sick of it. They heard it every day, and it was pushing them all to the edge.

“What even started this?” Inej asked, causing the Crows to all look at her, all except Jesper and Y/N, who were staring at one another, narrow eyed. The other Crows murmured in agreement, watching the two seemingly have a staring contest.

Kaz then entered the room, seeing the usual staring contest that happened daily. “They’re fighting again?” He inquired, his eyes rolling at how childish the two acted. The rest of the crows nodded, looking over at their boss, who ran a gloved hand down his face. He didn’t believe in team building exercises, that's what heists were for. But the Crows were at their breaking point, including himself.

Bringing Y/N onto the team hadn’t been much of a conscious decision at first, but after saving them from almost dying, as he had most of the Crows, he felt they’d be useful. Not just that, but he’d known Y/N for almost as long as he had Inej. They were a close friend, and he felt that after some time, years to be exact, that they should meet the Crows. He talked about them with Y/N all the time. Hell, they often were helping behind the scenes when it came to heists. They’d unknowingly saved the Crows dozens of times. Mainly because of their heightened hearing, and what Pekka Rollins believed was his agent, was actually Kaz’s agent.

Kaz didn’t expect this to happen. For a rivalry to bloom from meeting Y/N. Sure, he expected some amount of teasing, they were the Crows after all. Being a part of the group meant being teased for something, but a full out war between two people? Over him? He rarely found any amount of quiet anymore. He was at his breaking point.

Which led to the current situation at hand. Inej had proposed the idea; lock Y/N and Jesper into a room of sorts and make them situate their differences. It sounded childish at first, but after the recent fight the two had? He didn’t think it was any more childish than the two fighting was.

“Is this seriously what you’re mad about? Me drinking your orange juice Jesper?!” Y/N yelled across the Crow Club, directing most of the players' attention onto them. They casted a glare across the Club, only deterring a few onlookers from their staring problem.

“It was MINE! It had MY name on it Y/N! Not yours! Jesper Fahey was written across the front of it! You did this on purpose!” Jesper yelled back, crossing his arms as he stormed across the Club, ready to confront Y/N head on.

“I didn’t see the name, and even if I had, why would you leave it in the Club fridge?! It’s not Jesper Fahey’s fridge. Frankly, it’s the Club’s fridge, making it a free game!” Y/N stormed forward as well, eyes directly looking into Jesper’s, but before they could come face to face, the Crow head of Kaz’s cane came between them.

“Seriously? Is this what Inej has to come and tell me you’re arguing about?” Kaz asked, eyebrows raised expectantly. The Dregs were losing customers because of the two now, and frankly, Kaz wasn’t going to have that. Especially since, when he lost, Pekka Rollins benefitted.

“It’s because they drank my orange juice, Kaz. If anyone did the same to you, you’d be pretty upset! Not only that, they did it on purpose! They’re trying to get a rise out of me.” Jesper now looked at his boss, expecting the man to take his side, but Kaz simply rolled his eyes, huffing.

“And you certainly let them, didn’t you?” Kaz challenged, looking directly at Jesper with a tilted head.

Now Y/N and Jesper were stuck in the Crow Club freezer, which had been warmed just slightly, and blankets were left in the back just in case it became too cold.

“You two are going to figure out your shit, and then we’ll let you out. You can’t lie your way out either, Nina here is going to make sure of it,” Kaz spoke, the door locked and a smirk lie on his lips. He wouldn’t let the two freeze, but they’d be back in that freezer every day until they figured out why they were arguing, that was a promise he’d keep.

“What the hell Kaz?!” Jesper and Y/N said in unison, glaring the man down. But he was already limping away, planning on enjoying the silence he’d have in his office for once. No worries about hearing Y/N and Jesper down in the Crow Club arguing over orange juice.

Y/N turned to the back of the freezer, they’re anger rising as they huffed and shook their head. “This?!” They gestured around them, grabbing the blankets in the back, planning on hoaging them. “Is your fault,” they slid down the freezer wall, now wrapped in the two blankets.

“Give me one of those you blanket hog,” Jesper snatched one of the blankets, watching Y/N shiver for a moment before they went back to glaring at Jesper. Sliding down the opposite wall, the two glared at one another. Jesper couldn’t remember the moment he’d felt threatened by Y/N. He hadn’t known about them until Kaz had introduced them to the Crows. So maybe it irked him that the man he worked for had so many secrets, which wasn’t something Jesper didn’t know about before.

Kaz had too many secrets for Jesper to count. He could compile a list twenty miles long if he truly tried. The matter for Jesper was that one of those secrets was someone that could’ve been helping them from the get go. Someone that had been helping under the veil of secrecy. Someone Kaz would go to that wasn’t Inej and none of Crows were in the know of it. It involved someone Jesper didn’t know. Someone he didn’t trust, and now he was blaming Y/N for it.

Not just that, but Jesper wasn’t used to not being the right hand man. Because despite what Kaz would say out loud, he did trust Jesper, more than a lot of people. It seemed that trust was shared with someone Jesper didn’t know, which also irked him. He could trust Inej: he did trust Inej. He however, didn’t trust Y/N. Or . . . he did, in life or death scenarios. Because despite their rivalry, they’d saved him from dying several times, and vice versa.

“Jesper, behind you!” Y/N yelled, seeing a man lifting his gun behind Jesper, but Jesper was quicker. Pulling his gun out, he turned, shooting the man in the hand, making him drop the gun, and then a second bullet through the man's head. He glanced back, seeing Y/N walk up behind him, looking down at the man who’d almost ended their lives, and the heist they were on.

“Thanks, I owe you one,” Jesper managed to get out, his heart racing. Maybe it was because of the job. The adrenaline he got from it. Or maybe, it was because of Y/N saving him. “I knew you cared,” he decided to tease, smirking just slightly.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sharpshooter. Simply didn’t want Kaz killing me for letting someone kill you,” Y/N covered, glancing up at Jesper and scoffing as they saw the smirk. Elbowing him in his ribs, they walked off, ready to gather the information they needed.

Y/N narrowed their eyes as they looked at Jesper, their mind racing. What started the rivalry for them? They blamed Jesper for starting it. They’d come in open minded, he had closed minded. Now it’d evolved into daily bickering. But even Y/N could admit that Jesper was a necessary part of this team. He’d saved them several times, and not just during missions, but outside of such as well.

A kick landed to their face, and then to their abdomen, knocking them down. Y/N was a good enough fighter, but they couldn’t hold their own against two men bigger than them. Plus, they were outnumbered without their usual weapon. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

“Y/N, I swear if you-” but Jesper turned the corner, seeing them down on the ground, going eye-wide when his eyes met the two men above them. His hands found his guns, lifting them out of their holsters. The two men heard the small sounds of the guns, turning to see they were both at gunpoint.

“I doubt you want a bullet in your neck,” was all Jesper said before watching them scurry off. He quickly holstered his guns, rushing over to Y/N and picking them up. They were out cold, having passed out some time between the kick to their face and abdomen. When they did start waking, it was in the slat, laying on a bed that wasn’t theirs, Jesper above them.

“What happened?” They asked, Jesper huffing as he brushed a few strands of hair out of their face, trying to get to a bruise on their cheek.

“You were jumped,” Jesper said quietly, placing the warm rag against their cheek. Y/N hummed in acknowledgment to the rag, taking it into their hands to hold, but Jesper batted their hand away.

“Go figures,” Y/N murmured, closing their eyes once more. They leaned into the rag, craving the warmth. They felt the slightest touch of Jesper’s fingers graze their cheek, a small smile gracing their lips.

“You do care.” Jesper did care, but he simply hummed in acknowledgment just as Y/N had below him moments before.

“Get some rest.”

“But your bed-”

“I don’t plan on using it tonight, business to attend to,” Jesper cut Y/N off.

“You sound like Kaz,” Y/N laughed just slightly, but winced in pain at the pain in their ribs. The men had broken one or two of them for sure.

“Never say that about me again,” Jesper chuckled, watching as Y/N dozed off, clearly exhausted and in pain. It was better for them not to know what Jesper had planned. He wasn’t going to let the men get away with this, but for once, he didn’t think a quick death was worthy. They’d hurt Y/N. But it wasn’t like he cared that much? Did he?

“Why do you hate me?” Y/N asked, their eyes on Jesper in the freezer across from them.

“Why do you hate me?” Jesper asked back, his eyes narrowing on the bundled Grisha. Heightened senses likely made them a little colder than he was currently. Maybe they hadn’t taken the second blanket to spite him. Or they had, but with their own health taken into account.

“I asked first,” Y/N responded, pulling the blanket around them tighter.

“Well there's drinking and eating my food. Being rude during jobs. Flirting with every person in sight-”

“You do that too, Jesper, that isn’t just a me thing,” Y/N pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Was that really a reason he hated them? No, that was a stupid reason to hate someone.

“See, I do it with flair, you do not.” Jesper wasn’t sure why he hated them. His reasons were stupid. They were cover ups, and he knew it. He knew he didn’t hate Y/N. How could anyone hate them? Despite everything, they’d been kind at the beginning.

“That’s stupid, Jesper! Come on now!”

“It isn’t stupid!”

“Yes it is! I don’t hate you because of it!”

“I don’t hate you!” Jesper blurted out, and Y/N simply tilted their head in question, now rendered silent. That was a new one. Y/N L/N silent. Jesper almost commented on it, but he knew now was not the time. He’d tease them about it later when he wasn’t under fire for hating someone he didn’t hate.

“I simply am . . . jealous maybe? Is that the right word for this? Envious?” Jesper was now running a hand down his face, placing his head in the same hand moments later.

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?” Y/N asked, laughing a bit. Their life had been horrible. Everyone’s life in the Barrel was pretty shitty to say the least. To get here it also had to be pretty shitty, or you got pulled into it like Jesper had. Still, jealous?

“Your damned relationship with Kaz. I don’t understand it. You waltzed in and were his best friend from the start. Which told me you knew him before I did. Maybe that frightened me because I was now replaceable by this amazing person. Because you have to be pretty fucking amazing to be Kaz Brekker’s best friend,” Jesper ranted, watching Y/N’s lips pull up into a smile.

“He saved me, Jesper. I met him months after Inej, and just months before you met him. I was down pretty bad in the Barrel, and I was using my heightened senses to steal from different clubs. I had to travel around to make sure I wasn’t caught, but Kaz wasn’t stupid. Every time I’d come in he knew, and one day, he stopped me.”

“You’re stealing,” The Bastard of the Barrel spoke, Y/N opposite of his desk, sitting.

“I am not.”

“You’re cheating. You’ve been here every Friday night, because you know it’s when the tables are easiest to play. You’re Grisha, I observed that when I first saw you. I’d assume Heartrender based on your play. You use it to know when people are lying, and you switch tables every ten minutes to the highest bidding table, and you win Every. Time. You also swipe money when nobody's looking, I know that trick like the back of my hand,” Kaz spoke, leaning over the desk, watching the Grisha go eye wide.

But Kaz stalled for a few moments. For a moment, he saw himself in their eyes, and that’s all it took for the Bastard of the Barrel to stop leaning forward and sit back in his chair. Pointing for his men to leave the room, he glanced over Y/N.

“I’m not doing it because I enjoy it,” Y/N spoke, sucking in a frightened breath. They felt squeamish in their seat, as if they were going to be killed at any moment, but then the men left, and they felt just slightly better.

“I know,” and that was Kaz had let on about it, but Y/N saw the look in his eyes, and they knew it all too well. He’d been at a point like this before as well, except the getting caught part. That was something Kaz never dealt with was being caught. Maybe in those moments sitting across from Y/N, he’d wished he had been, but nobody would’ve been merciful. Not like he was. He would’ve been killed, and he’d already been taught that strangers in Ketterdam weren’t kind. But that day he showed just some kindness.

“He saved you like the rest of us,” Jesper inquired, sighing. How had he been so blind? His jealousy had made him an asshole. A jealous asshole who couldn’t think about anything other than said jealousy. “I’m sorry,” he added, glancing up at Y/N now, seeing them shake their head.

“I’m sorry too. I’ve been an ass as well. We both have,” Y/N said, shivering a bit more. Jesper moved, going to sit next to Y/N and give them the blanket he had.

“You had every right to be an ass, Y/N. I was being an ass to you about everything, you were simply repaying the favor,” Jesper said with a small laugh. He pulled Y/N into his shoulder.

“So, you don’t hate me either?” Jesper asked then, looking down at Y/N.

“Not one bit,” Y/N let out a laugh.

Nina then busted through the door, clapping. “Finally! No more bickering!” She exclaimed, bending down in front of Y/N and Jesper, glancing between the two of them.

Jesper simply nodded, looking down at Y/N and lifting them up, carrying them out of the freezer. The rest of the Crows watched, confusion locked on their features. What had changed in such a short amount of time? What had Y/N told Jesper to make him stop hating them?

“What the hell?” Inej whispered, crossing her arms.

“Ten Kruge they get together by the end of the week,” Wylan spoke, hand out for an agreement with Inej, who looked over at Wylan, smirking.

“Twenty it takes them less than three days,” Inej raised a brow.

“You’re on,” Wylan said, his hand shaking Inej’s.

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pretend-writer · 3 years

Text

Down Below (Chapter 78)

Summary: After being sent down on Earth with the other prisoners from the Ark, Y/N Reyes faces series of events and learns about survival. With new things happening around her, she is now starting a new chapter in her life.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader, John Murphy x reader, Raven Reyes x sister!reader

Word Count: 2k words

Warning: swearing, mention of death and violence

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

Couple of McCreary's criminals stayed behind with the guards, with a help of Indra watching over them. Meanwhile, I've decided to interrupt Russell with a surprise visit.

I insisted I'd go alone, the less people the better especially knowing that Russell wasn't quite the violent type; There was no way he’d lay his hands on me, I had no worries about him at all. He had killed Clarke because of his greed, I highly doubt that he'd kill more of us out of anger.

Some people disagreed with me, not surprised. Of course Bellamy, Josephine and Murphy wanted to come with me, Jordan wished to tag along too. Delilah being sacrificed for the prime hit him pretty hard, I didn't blame him for wanting to confront him.

As we barged into the lab, we were greeted with a startled look on all of their faces. Simone and Emori instantly looked upset, Abby looked like she was dying for her next fix.

'How in the hell did you guys escape?' Simone cursed, stepping up in front of me.

'It's not very hard, you know. Now would you guys be so kind and give us back the blood you made.' Murphy took out his hand, motioning them to hand it over.

Approaching fast, Emori reached for John's hand. 'John, what are you doing?'

'We can't let them continue to deceive and kill their innocent people, it's not right. Now they got us involved too.'

'Just hand us the damn blood.' I walked over to Simone that had it in her hands, 'Haven't you guys lived enough already?'

Simone chuckled, 'You don't get it do you?'

'What, killing people thinking their sacrificing themselves to false Gods? Of course I don't get it, I'm not a homicidal bitch like you.'

She reached her hand out, smacking my cheek while holding the blood in her other hand. I couldn't react and get her back as Bellamy was quicker than me, grabbing Simone's collar. 'Get your fucking hands off of her.'

'Let go of my wife!' Russell screamed at Bellamy, trying to reach over her but was suddenly distracted by Murphy.

He had snatched the blood off of Simone's hand, laughing as he hugged it in his arms. 'You guys are awfully slow.'

'Do you really think that's a smart move, Murphy?' Russell rolled his eyes. 'One word and the guards will storm in here and shoot you without a warning.'

'You shoot me, I drop this bad boy and the blood is destroyed. You really want to do this Russell?'

He huffed, turned to look at Emori and back to John. 'You fucked everything up, you know? I trusted Emori when she said you were with us.'

'That's your own fault for trusting her, I never agreed to this. I honestly just want you dead.'

'What do you guys want from this anyway? Why do you care what our community is doing? These people believe in us, believe that the Primes store peace and prosperity to Sanctum.'

How can that come out of Simone's mouth? Saying that their community chose to sacrifice their lives for a God that they've made up? 'They sacrifice themselves because they believe in the lies you told them. I care because you're killing your own people.'

'Can we just compromise? Agree to disagree and live on with our lives as we did these past few days?' Josephine tried to be the middle of man of this, siding with her family as well us siding with us.

'I thought I made a deal to compromise with Russell but he chose to betray me instead.' I looked at Josephine, understanding where she was coming from but hoping that she will finally realize that what her family has been doing is completely wrong. 'This outcome is all your father's fault. I didn't want any of this to happen.'

'Whatever happens to me and my people are none of your damn business! What we do does not concern you at all!' Simone raised her voice at me, veins tracing down her face as she seemed angry as ever.

'Now that you're getting us involved, it certainly is. We don't have to make these stupid blood for you, you know that right?'

Murphy's POV;

Y/N and Simone have been yelling at each other for quite sometime now, I'd want to help her but I wasn't in the position to defend her. Besides, she could handle herself well.

Simone's facial expression changed as she heard the words come out of Y/N's mouth, it was as if she had triggered her.

'I've had enough of your attitude already.' Simone screamed as she charged at Y/N, punching her in her stomach.

Before I was able to jump in to help, Y/N grabbed her arm, twisting it to the opposite direction that had Simone scream even louder. Turning her whole body around, she then kicked her back which had her falling next to Russell.

As Simone fell to the ground, she breathed. 'What happened to no violence?'

'You fucking punched me in the gut, I'm not just going to stand there.'

Just as I was about to make a snarky comment at Simone, Abby had snatched the blood from my hand. I quickly turned to her, 'What are you doing?'

Abby wasn't listening and instead ran out the lab. All of us trailed her from behind, ending up next to the airlock chamber. She had locked herself in the chamber, attempting to float herself and the nightblood with her.

Her hand was on the lever, her other arm tightly holding onto the nightblood. Y/N approached closer to her, trying convince her from the other side of the airlock. 'Abby, let's rethink this okay?'

'Don't fucking tell me what to do!' Abby yelled, tears running down her cheeks. 'Why do you care anyway, they lose the blood and you get to see me float myself. Win-win situation for you, I'd say.'

Y/N huffed, shaking her head. 'Don't be fucking stupid. I don't agree with you nor did I enjoy being threatened by you at the bunker but I don't want you dead, Abby.'

'I've lost everything, Y/N!' Abby started to sob, 'Russell killed my daughter, Marcus left me. I have nothing left, what do you know about loss?'

'We've all lost something, Abby.' I approached her also, standing next to Y/N. 'You guys sent us down to Earth when we were only kids, when we barely understood right from wrong. A lot of us lost parents, not that I really cared but some do. I understand that you're angry and frustrated but don't tell us we don't know how you're feeling.'

Y/N had never fully told me what happened down at the bunker, all I know is that Abby had done something to her, something that she will never forgive her for. She never told me the whole story, said that she wanted to forget everything because it was so awful what happened.

Even with all the altercation between her and Abby, Y/N was still trying to stop her from floating herself out of the airlock. I know how much the bunker had messed her up, I was honestly surprised that she was willing to help Abby.

‘Why are you trying so hard to help me? I’m the one that’s responsible for your misery right?’ Abby looked straight into Y/N’s eyes.

‘Like I said, I don't want you dead. I'll never forget what happened but we can always work our way to forgive. We’ve all worked our way through hell, we can get through this too.’

I admire Y/N’s strength, which are one of the reasons why I loved her so much. Watching her fight for Abby made me feel stupid about letting her go, being dumb enough to not say I love you back to her.

Abby nodded her head, ‘You’re right Y/N. You’re right. I’m sorry.’

She opened the airlock and slowly walking out as Y/N rubbed her hand on Abby’s back, trying to comfort her while she continued to sob.

'Maybe it's time to end all this, dad. We've done enough already.' Josephine said, surprisingly. Perhaps all of this have overwhelmed her, finally understanding that it wasn't worth the pain they were causing.

Russell inhaled dramatically, rolling his eyes as everyone had their eyes on Y/N and Abby. ‘Don't be a fool, Josie. It's never over.'

'If that's how you feel, so be it.’ Abby suddenly shoved Y/N to the side, pulling Simone from behind her and yanking her into the airlock chamber with her. Bellamy, having the faster instinct, caught Y/N before she fell to the ground.

‘Let me out, Russell! Help me, please!’ Simone banged on the glass from the other side as Abby locked the chamber again. ‘Anybody, help me out please!’

‘Simone!’ Russell looked at Bellamy, Jordan and then to me, panic all over his eyes as he tried to look for help. ‘Please get my wife out of there.’

Abby shook her head, ‘It’s too late now.’

Y/N pushed Bellamy’s arms out of her way, running towards the airlock as she screamed. ‘Abby, don-’

She was too late, Abby had pulled the lever as if she was committed to do so. Abby seemed as though she was ready to float herself, I doubt that Y/N would've convinced herself otherwise.

Bellamy pressed the button to close the airlock, comforting Y/N as she looked distraught. It was selfish of me to feel jealousy towards Bellamy, when Y/N needed someone to lean on when one of our people had died tragically. I couldn’t help it, I was mad at myself for fucking everything up.

Josephine and Russell on the other hand was emotionless, Simone was gone faster than the snap of a finger. They’ve probably haven’t gotten the grasp of any of this, since they were not familiar with the floating method.

‘What... did you guys do...’ Russell mumbled, staring into space as if he was staring at a ghost.

‘Seems like Abby took your wife for taking her own daughter away from her. Fair trade I should say.’ Jordan said angrily. I didn’t think he had it in him to say such harsh words, even though we all know we were all thinking the same thing.

Josephine shook her head. ‘We did a shitty thing, I know. But was that really fair? How dare you say that, she murdered my mother!’

‘Just how you murdered our friend! Just as how you murdered Delilah, she didn’t know the whole truth about what she was sacrificing herself for!’ Jordan took a step toward Josephine, screaming his lungs out. ‘Your family has been doing this for years, there’s no excuse for that!’

A sudden loud bang echoed, Jordan falling hard onto the floor without saying another word. Josephine screamed, looking at her father with a gun in his hand which was aimed towards Jordan.

Josephine froze into place as the rest of us ran towards Jordan to see if he was alright, but it was too late once again. He was already bleeding to death, bullet going straight through his chest.

'None of you guys move or I will shoot again.'

Everything had clicked; I really should've had killed Russell when I had the chance. I could've protected Jordan, I bet Monty was ashamed of me and all of us that it ended up being this way.

Or maybe Y/N was right, if we just accepted the trade, no one would end up getting hurt. Sure, Russell would still live but he wouldn't be an issue as long as he stayed in Sanctum.

None of this would've happened if I'd just stopped Emori from this, while we were marching back to the ship. I could've said something before we left Sanctum. There were so many chances where I could've stopped this and I did nothing.

And now Russell is unpredictable, all hell broke loose and he had gone insane. His lover was gone, forever and there was no going back. Abby and Jordan were gone and we might lose more of our people, even lose the love of my life because of my stupid choice.

#the 100 series #down below series #bellamy blake series #john murphy series #bellamy blake x reader #john murphy x reader #bellamy blake fanfic #bellamy blake rewrite #the 100 rewrite #raven reyes x sister!reader #bellamy blake fic

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

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Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Day 16, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Heart-Shaped Wreckage

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: T

TW: implied violence and near-death experience (but nothing explicit)

A/N: This is the part two follow-up to Rewrite the Stars.

************

Hermione’s hand trembles as she reaches over to her nightstand and turns on the light. She can’t sleep, which is a common occurrence as of late. Where she once relished in the quiet of her flat, now the serenity is too much to bear. She is running out of changes to make that will erase the worst, most painful decision of her life. The ultra-soft linens she purchased for her bed are anything but comforting and luxurious. They feel scratchy and cold, and the fresh and clean look of the white comforter with its floral patterns gives off more of a sterile vibe than the new slate she’d been hoping for. Instead, it serves as another stark reminder that all the vibrancy and color had evaporated from her life when she pushed Ron away.

It’s been 62 days since the disaster of the Auror gala, and 50 since Hermione’s received any form of contact from him. Ron has honored her wishes to break things off no matter how much it pained them both to do so. Part of her still wishes he’d floo into her fireplace or knock on her door, begging her to give them another chance. But she knows deep down none of that will ever happen. He is a man of respect, and he will always abide by her requests, even if she no longer wants to keep them herself.

It’s better this way. She reminds herself of the constant scrutiny they’d face if they stayed together, and the hurt and discomfort even at the mere thought indicate that her feelings haven’t changed. There is no way she could put him through that sort of subjection just so she can be selfish and happy. Their lives are too different, and they live in a world where the acceptance of all kinds of love doesn't exist.

So, in the grueling months since they ended things for a second time, Hermione has worked to make changes, some drastic, some minute, in an effort to force herself to move on. She is too proud to let anyone in her life know the pain that she feels with every conscious breath that she takes. Hermione has thrown herself into her work, staying at school late to mark papers, redecorate the classroom, or develop new lesson plans to benefit the students and create more hands-on experiences.

And once she realized that her preparation was complete through the end of next term, Hermione turned to her flat. Weekends have been spent on home projects. Painting the walls, updating the decor, and cleaning every square inch of her flat, all to help her forget.

But the problem is, her heart doesn’t want to forget. Every book she sits down to read reminds her of time spent with Ron. Her renewed efforts in the kitchen never fail to bring a smile or a chuckle to her lips as her mind traitorously wonders what Ron would think if he were here to observe the barely edible mess she’s created. Yet, Hermione is not naive enough to believe that it will change anything. She knows it won’t.

As she sits up in the enormous queen-sized bed, she reaches for the parchment that lays in tri-folds on the nightstand. The paper is worn, with visible wrinkles preventing it from lying flat and tear stains causing the corners to curl as she unfolds the delicate sheet. Hermione’s not sure why she’s opening the letter to read. She knows it won’t bring her the comfort she craves or the answers she desires.

The messy scrawl gives way to Ron’s only correspondence with her since the last time they spoke, and she latches onto it as if it’s the only life preserver on a capsizing vessel. It’s the only thing she has left. The only reminder of the life she could have had.

I’m not scared to tell the truth.

I went to hell and back and I went with you

Remind me what we were before,

When you said you are mine, and I am yours

Hermione,

There’s a lot I want to say and I’m not sure if I can fit it all in this letter, but I’m going to try. I never meant for any of this to happen, but I did mean everything I said that night. I’m not afraid to tell you how I feel. What we have, er, had, I guess, is special. I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life, and I don’t think I ever will. And it’s not just about the case and finding comfort in each other.

When we broke things off after graduation, I felt like a part of me was missing. The Auror academy kept me busy, and sure, my life moved on, but I wasn’t really happy. Not as happy as I was when we were together. And then fate brought us back together and we decided to make another go of it, that’s when I realized that you were what was missing. You make my life so much brighter, so meaningful, and I’m sorry if I sound like a sap, but I need you to know how I feel.

I would give up everything for you. Social status means nothing to me. If the Aurors sack me because of my personal relations, then so be it. I’ll work with George, or find something else. If my family can’t be supportive, then it will be their loss. I’m not willing to live in a world that doesn’t have you in it, and I refuse to give in to the Ministry’s stance on bloody purity.

I know this is all probably ‘too little, too late’ or whatever that Muggle saying is that you like to use, and I promise you I’m going to respect your wishes. But I had to tell you. I had to let you know because...well...there’s this mission that’s come up. It’s going to be bloody dangerous and Robards asked for volunteers because he knows how risky it’s going to be. Anyone who goes isn’t guaranteed to come back and, well, I won’t go into the details, but I volunteered to go.

I know, I know, I can hear you in the back of my head telling me that it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and not to throw my life away because we’re not together, but Hermione, it’s been twelve days and I can’t go on day to day like this. I can’t. Working is the only thing that eases the pain and gets my mind off of everything. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.

I hope you find the happiness you deserve. You’re brilliant, always remember that. Just know that I love you, and it’s because I love you that I’m going to try to let go.

Ron

Tears threaten in Hermione’s eyes once again. It’s no different than every other time she reads the letter. Nothing has changed; Ron’s gone, still on his mission six weeks later and no end in sight. Hermione is sure this is the reason she’s not sleeping. With every passing day and no news of Ron’s whereabouts, she turns to the only object that can provide her with any source of comfort: the letter.

After three weeks of constant worrying and bags under her eyes so prevalent that even her eight-year-old students noticed, Hermione caved and wrote to Harry. Even though they can’t be together, she knows deep down that she can still care about his well-being.

Harry’s response had been timely and brief. He didn’t have details of the mission but reassured Hermione that no news is good news. Hermione thanked him and asked for updates if it wasn’t too much trouble. The two had been friendly in school, growing closer as her relationship with Ron blossomed as well. She didn’t expect his alliance to stray from his best friend but still appreciated his willingness to be cordial with her after everything she’d put Ron through.

“Please come home to me,” she whispers into the darkness.

Her heart aches more as her eyes hover over the parchment once more, searching for the three words that she knows she’ll never read too many times: I love you.

For some reason, this three a.m. readthrough hits differently. She carefully folds the parchment, places it back on the nightstand and turns off the light. There are still a few more hours left to find sleep.

Hermione tosses and turns as she attempts to focus on sleep and quieting her thoughts. At some point, a flash illuminates the night sky, and that’s when the pieces begin forming more vividly in her mind. The clap of thunder follows seconds later, and with it, a realization is born. As the rain begins its slow cadence of pitter-patters on the window, the brevity of Hermione’s decision hits her with the force of the storm strengthening outside.

I don’t know much, but I know myself

And I don’t want to love anybody else

So let’s break the spell and lift the curse

Remember when we fell for each other head first

There is only one question that forms in her mind. One question that surpasses any of the other thoughts she’s managed to cope with over the last two months.

What have I done?

None of her previous attempts to move past this matter anymore, even though it’s too late, and there’s nothing she can do.

Three days later, Hermione is finishing up her night-time routine when there’s a knock on her door. She looks at the antique clock on the wall that reads 10:45. Her heart plummets to her stomach. No one calls this late at night with good news. She stands frozen in place, amazed that the glass of water in her hand hasn’t spilled to the floor as a result of her shock.

Another knock, and Hermione manages to lift her feet from the floor. She reaches over and sets the glass on the counter before pulling her dressing gown tight around her waist. The carpet feels thick and heavy, as if her feet are wading through mud and sludge as she makes the torturous trek to the door. Five steps feel like five thousand. She’s sure all of this has happened in a matter of seconds, but it feels like minutes. Maybe the caller will be gone by the time her eye reaches the peephole.

Her hope is instantly quashed when she peers through the tiny circle to see an older gentleman that she doesn’t quite recognize at first. He’s wearing an overcoat and tan bowler hat, and is looking down at a torn piece of parchment. A pair of cerulean blue eyes drift back up to the number on her flat’s door, and that’s when the familiarity hits Hermione like a muggle slamming into the brick wall that separates platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.

She can feel the blood drain from her face as dizziness overcomes her. Falling forward, she clasps onto the doorknob to steady herself. The noise catches the gentleman’s attention.

“Er, Ms. Granger. Are you home? It’s very important that I speak to you. Please, I mean no harm if you’ll open up.”

Hermione struggles to find her voice to respond. Her hands are shaking so violently that she can barely latch on to the deadbolt that has been fastened for the evening.

“Oh, er, please forgive me. We haven’t formally met, but it’s Mr. Weasley out here. Ron’s father.”

Hearing Ron’s name gives Hermione the strength that she needs to click the deadbolt to the left as she manages to turn the door handle with her other hand. Pulling the door open, she slowly looks up at the elder Weasley.

“Is—is everything okay?” Her voice is raw and weak, and she’s sure the shock is the only thing preventing the tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Er, no, it’s not. May I come in?” His eyes dart around, as if he doesn’t want to discuss the matter out in the open.

Hermione opens the door wider to let him in and manages to shut it when he’s through the entryway. Her free hand fiddles with her wand that’s still inside her pocket—just in case—though she fears no imminent threat from Ron’s father.

"Ms. Granger, I’m sorry for calling so late. I wouldn’t be here at all, actually, if it wasn’t for Harry mentioning—ah, well, that’s no matter...”

Mr. Weasley is rambling, and Hermione has trouble processing his words. Her breath catches at the mention of Harry’s name, which draws Mr. Weasley’s attention to her, helping him get to the point of his late-night visit.

“Ron’s been gravely injured. He’s at St. Mungo’s now. They brought him in an hour or so ago. Molly and I met Harry and Ginny there as soon as we heard. He’s stable for now, but the Healers are unsure if it will hold.”

Hermione grasps the back of the couch to keep from collapsing to the ground. A sob bursts from her throat as the tears that threatened moments ago now spill freely down her cheeks.

“Wh-what happened?”

The words are spoken with great effort.

“We don’t have many details. The Aurors are still trying to clean up loose ends on the mission, but it sounds like the operation was successful thanks to Ron’s efforts. One of the target’s accomplices hit Ron with an unknown spell before he was caught.”

Even through Hermione’s own devastation, she can hear the tremor in Ron’s father’s voice. He’s scared, though he’s hiding it well as he continues to explain what he knows. There’s a sheen in his eyes as the moisture appears, emotions raw as he finishes bringing Hermione up to speed.

“Everyone was apprehended, and Ron appears to be the only one who got hurt. We should know more in the coming hours.”

Hermione can only offer a blank stare as she processes the information. His letter said it would be a dangerous mission. He didn’t sound as if he was hopeful that he’d come back alive. Or maybe he was hoping—no, don’t think like that. It was her fault that he’d gone in the first place. By some miracle, he was still hanging on, and the haziness of Hermione’s previous decisions about their relationship begins to give way. The fact that his father is there in her flat informing her has to mean something.

“Why are you here?”

It comes out harsher than Hermione intends, but after their less than amicable meeting at the gala, Hermione can’t be bothered with pleasantries. Even if his wife’s behavior was ruder than his own.

The older man pulls out a handkerchief and wipes beads of sweat off his brow as he sighs deeply.

“Ms. Granger—”

“Hermione.”

“Right, yes, Hermione. I am aware that we did not get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I never introduced myself on the night of the gala. We weren’t expecting Ron to have a date. I’ll admit that Molly and I were ignorant in the way we treated you that night, and for that, I am sorry. Nothing can take back our words, nor can it change the way others view you based on your blood status, but please know how wrong we were.

“Ron was devastated after you broke things off after the gala, and I suppose that was largely due to our behavior. It’s clear to us how much he loves you, and we don’t want to stand in the way of that. So, when Harry mentioned you had asked for news and wanted to come tell you, I insisted that I should be the one to see you. Please don’t let our ignorance stand in the way of your happiness.”

Hermione stands there, listening to Arthur’s apology. While she appreciates the olive branch, part of her can’t help but feel that it’s too little, too late, and a new wave of tears flood her eyes as she sees those exact words in Ron’s letter. She offers a curt nod to let him know she appreciates the gesture, even as her voice can’t find the words.

“I won’t keep you. I should be getting back, but Ron is in room 408. You are on the approved list as a family member if you decide you want to see him, and Molly’s agreed to let you stay with him if you’d like.”

Arthur gives a weak nod as he dabs his forehead once more before making his way to the door. It takes Hermione a moment to realize what’s happening, and as soon as everything processes, she’s pushing herself off the back of the sofa and calling out to Arthur.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m coming! Please, er, if you don’t mind waiting. I just need to get changed—”

“Of course.”

Arthur offers a paternal smile as Hermione rushes into her bedroom and throws on the first thing she can find. She almost forgets to grab her bag as she throws on her coat and locks the door behind her.

Moments later, they’re entering St. Mungo’s, and Mr. Weasley leads the way through the main hall to the lifts. It’s only as the gate shuts that nerves begin to bubble up in her stomach. She’s been running on the adrenaline of the news, and now she can’t help but wonder how the rest of Ron’s family will react when they see her. Or, what’s worse, how Ron will react if and when he wakes up.

When. It has to be when.

As if sensing her trepidation, Mr. Weasley places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The lift opens, and the first person she sees is Harry in the waiting room. Her feet gravitate toward him of their own accord, and when Harry sees her, he meets her halfway and wraps her in a tight hug.

“He’s going to be okay. He has to,” Harry whispers in her ear.

Hermione nods, forcing her brain to believe his words. When they let go, Ginny hugs Hermione next, which helps her feel more relaxed.

Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

After one final squeeze, Ginny lets go so Hermione can follow Arthur down the hall to Ron’s room. He opens the door, and Hermione enters the sterile, white room. The most color she sees is his shock of red hair against the fluffy white pillow that’s cradling his head. Her heart begins beating faster as she spots his mum sitting vigil at his side.

Mrs. Weasley looks up to see the two standing there. A hard, stony look immediately sets on her face in defense before it softens slightly. She stands and walks over to Hermione. She knows that she’ll have a harder time winning over the Weasley matriarch based on this interaction, but if Ron wakes up—and will take her back—she’s willing to do anything to make it work.

“Let’s give her some privacy, Molly. The healers will call us in if he wakes up,” Arthur coaxes his wife out of the room as he gives Hermione one last reassuring smile.

When the door closes behind them, Hermione walks up to the chair Molly was perched at and takes a seat. She moves the chair closer to the bed as she observes Ron in his sleeping state. A tear slips down her face as her hand reaches out to take his. It isn’t cold, but it’s also not as warm as she’s used to.

“Please wake up. You have to wake up,” she pleads, choking back a fresh wave of tears.

I can’t find you in the dark

Will we get back to who we are?

And I can’t fix this on my own

Our love is still the best thing I’ve ever known

She’s not sure how long she sits there, watching his chest slowly rise and fall as he breathes. No matter how hard she tries, Hermione can’t look away, for fear that his breathing might stop if she does. She’s so focused on his chest, that she doesn’t see his eyes flutter open.

“Er-my-nee.”

His voice is breathy, with more rasp than she’s used to, but she’d have given all the gold in her Gringotts vault to hear her name on his lips again if she had to. He lifts the hand that she’s holding, and Hermione leans in closer to press her face into it.

“You came,” he whispers.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she lifts off the seat and leans over him, capturing his lips with hers. They’re cracked and dry, no doubt from being undercover in who knows what kind of conditions, but none of that matters. Ron’s alive, and he’s kissing her back.

Look at this heart shaped wreckage

What have we done?

We’ve got scars from battles nobody won

We can start over, better

Both of us know if we just let the broken pieces

Let the broken pieces go

“I’m so sorry.” The apology seems frail as she mutters the words against his lips.

His other hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear and wipe the tears from her face. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t ever do something that stupid again.”

“Only if you give me a reason not to.”

Let the broken pieces go

Just hold on to each other tonight

“I will, I promise.”

She pulls away to look into his tired, bright blue eyes that carry the hope she feels in her chest.

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know what life is going to throw at me, Ron, but I only want to take it if you’re by my side.”

“It’s about time you came to your senses.”

The hand that’s still cupping her cheek adjusts to pull her back to him as he does his best to crash his lips into hers for a searing, though still tender, kiss. His breath is hot as he groans against her mouth, solidifying their reunification. There’s an unspoken agreement to let the broken pieces of the past go.

Tonight, they’ll start over, rewriting the stars to match their love story the way it’s meant to be.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #tw: implied death #tw: implied violence #romione #ron weasley x hermione granger #hermione granger x ron weasley

75 notes · View notes

gaitwae · 3 years

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Wildest Dreams [|] Loki x Reader

Sequel to Mr. Perfectly Fine

Warnings:

Summary: Loki remembers what he’s done to you. You work through the hurt, deciding not to rush whatever’s really going on.

Tags: @make-me-imagine @thorfanficwriter @bwemph @myraiswack @rorybutnotgilmore @loki-snape-our-hero @wolfish-trickster @lucywrites02 @mostly-marvel-musings @winterfrostsarmy @superheroesandstardust @castiels-majestic-wings @geekns @natandersonnla @cozy-the-overlord @megthemewlingquim @frostedgiant @whatafuckingdumbass @thebookbakery @delightfulheartdream @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @the-emo-asgardian @amwolowicz @itscomplicatedx @sophlubbwriting @darkacademicfrom2021 @lilyofthesword

It was absolutely safe to say that when your eyes opened, you were scared out of your mind. Loki was sleeping on your couch, his fingers laced with yours. Vaguely, all too quickly, you realized that accepting his dashing-yet-blunt proposal wasn’t a fantasy.

Hurt bubbled up in your chest. Your eyes stung dully as you removed your hand from his. You checked his temperature: it was low. He was drunk. He was sitting on your couch with your smudged lip color on his. He did think you were engaged now, despite the fact that you were quickly realizing how bad that was.

Loki hurt you.

Loki hurt you real bad.

You couldn’t marry this man, no matter how much you might have wanted to those years ago. You never would have said yes! Loki just... he seemed so sad. He had never cried in front of you, not if you didn’t count Frigga’s funeral, and even then, that wasn’t anything like... well... that display. His tears were like salt in the wound, laughing right at you. You put some distance between the two of you. You cleaned his mouth off with your sleeve, wondering how on Earth you were going to explain this to Bucky.

Oh, no.

Bucky.

Bucky was going to have to hear Loki’s hungover insistance that you were now his fiancée. He was also going to have to hear about how you kissed Loki back. You had to be honest. You had to call your boyfriend. There was no skipping over the truth when you were dating a lawyer, no matter how much you wanted to avoid it.

It was better that he heard it from you rather than the ex boyfriend laying on your couch.

You dialed Bucky’s number. He picked up quickly. “Baby, are you okay?”

“Bucky, Loki came over,” you said quickly, “and he was drunk... he, uh, kissed me, and he proposed to me because apparently you were planning on asking me to marry you?” You swallowed, trying to think of how to redeem yourself. “I got so swept up with emotion from the past, I said yes, I didn’t mean to, but Loki was already crying and I needed him to calm down — he’s — he’s asleep, but if he starts getting protective by the time you come home, I’m so sorry—!”

“Wait,” Bucky said, cutting you off. “Baby, explain this again. Calmly, okay?” He didn’t sound too worried. Then again, this might be the quiet before the storm.

“Loki came by our house, drunk. He was crying, and I got nervous. He kissed me, proposed, and then asked me to marry him. I didn’t know what to do, so I said yes. I’m so, so sorry....”

“Well, you’re not going to marry him, are you?” he asked, sad humor slipping in. Your heart sank.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. You didn’t mean to say it out loud, but hey? What could you do? You held the phone to your ear gingerly, keeping an eye on Loki’s sleeping form. “I-I mean, no. No.”

The anger slowly started to build. You understood it. You hoped he would be mad at you instead of Loki. “You don’t know? Or ‘no’? What is it?”

“James, it isn’t like that,” you protested. You bit your tongue and your cheek. If the world was perfect, you would have married Loki like you were set on. You would have had children with him, by now. As you spoke, you found you weren’t faced with the possibility of losing Bucky, but the possibility of throwing away your decade-old dreams. “I swear. I don’t want to marry anybody, right now. I don’t. I couldn’t.”

“Why couldn’t you? What if I did propose, Y/N?” Defensive. Protective. Angry. Hurt. Why? Had Loki been right?

You hadn’t ever talked about marrying Bucky. You couldn’t imagine that life. “Bucky, can we save this for later?” you begged through the phone. “Please, I’m worried about Loki; he’s never drunk himself stupid before.” You scratched your neck. In your wildest dreams, you had never imagined falling back into Loki’s temptation.

You had finally woken up clean, and he had to try to bring you back down.

“Y/N?” he asked after a moment. Barnes sounded hollow. Hollow, but understanding. There was a shuffle over the phone and you couldn’t tell what it was. Was he leaving? Was he moving around? Would he forgive you?

“Yeah?” you managed.

“You still love him. Don’t you?”

Your tongue was glued to the roof of your mouth. Your tears welled up. No wonder you were able to be friends with Loki. No wonder you weren’t able to just forget about him. With an ocean of regret in your voice, you admitted, “I don’t want to.”

James sighed. “Okay. Well, we can talk things through at home... I know you didn’t mean for anything to happen, I know you’ve been as faithful as you can be. You wouldn’t be calling and crying otherwise.” He sniffed. “I shouldn’t have planned a proposal without clearing it with you. We haven’t talked about marriage.”

“Bucky, if I do ever marry, I don’t want you to worry if it’s you or Loki. I don’t even know if I want to marry anyone. Loki clearly has feelings for me, I can’t just pretend that I don’t have remaining feelings when he could very well keep coming by... Gosh.” You sat down in a chair. You looked at your left hand, which had no ring on it. It was bare.

“I’ll head home,” Bucky said. “Sit tight. Bye.”

“Bye.” You hung up the phone. You held your head in your hands, silently cursing yourself for being the world’s biggest pushover. Your ex waltzed in, gave off a teary show, and then pleaded for your heart like he was on death row, and you listened. Were you an idiot? What kind of mistake were you making? Could you up and leave Bucky for some tool who could change his mind as quickly as he had four years ago?

You sat there for what seemed like hours; it was probably only one or two, considering how long Bucky’s firm was from your home. Your boyfriend eventually stepped through the door and pulled you into his arms, millions of apologies being swapped between the two of you.

You sat at the table and talked for almost three hours. Every now and then, it was bordering an argument, but you both kept your cool. Bucky knew how hard you were trying to be there for him, to be his, but when it came down to it, you were always Loki’s. You had a raw wound. You knew how much Bucky wanted to be yours, but as it turned out, he was proposing because it seemed like what was expected of him. Through the conversation, you learned that maybe it was smarter to take a break, maybe stay roommates, and try to exist as friends again.

“If Loki makes you happy,” Bucky whispered, “then I think you should try again. He’s changed; he’s made changes for you. He’s been good to you. We’ve been barely getting by these past months.”

“I know,” you replied. “But I’m not going to turn around and just run after him. That’s not smart. You’re still in my life, Buck.”

“All I see is you,” he murmured.

“I know,” you said again.

Bucky stood up. “I’m going to stay at Steve’s tonight, doll. Um... make sure Loki has water when he wakes up. Give him a good tongue-thrashing for me.” He offered a weak smile.

You sniffled. “Take whatever you need. I’ll be up playing nurse — don’t worry about anything.”

Bucky nodded. “Got it.” He scratched his nose. “I’ll drop by in the morning and see if there’s anything I can help with.”

+-+--

When Loki woke up, the headache was the first thing he complained of. “Y/N?” he groaned. You were sitting next to him, hands tucked under your arms. You were gazing down at him, watching his face as his expression changed from pained to embarrassed. “Please tell me what happened was just a fever dream...”

You shook your head. “You proposed to me.”

“You said ‘yes’,” he breathed, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Oh, my Norns. I’m so sorry; you don’t have to marry me. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have even come by — I walked from the bar, in the rain, with only the thought of taking you back...”

“I figured,” you chuckled lightly. You didn’t meet his eyes. You played with the hem of your shirt. “Bucky and I might break up, though. You told on him. His planned proposal, I mean.”

“You aren’t breaking up because of me, are you?”

“No; not entirely. I’m still... You’re trouble, you know that? I’m going to get a reputation.”

“You need one,” Loki joked. “People will be less likely to take advantage of you, then. Odinson’s Wife — the Terrifying Maiden.”

“I’m no maiden,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m still upset from our breakup. That’s why Bucky and I are thinking about calling it quits. I wasn’t over you when I thought I was, so just shut up and drink some water.” You handed him a glass. “You can’t hold your liquor, you know.”

Loki took it gingerly. “Oh, I hate how well you know me,” he sighed, taking a long sip. “Do I get some aspirin?”

“No.” You crossed your arms. “You said you’ve been carrying Frigga’s ring in your pocket since she died?”

“I did?” He furrowed his brows. “That’s right, I did... I’ve been keeping it for you, I must admit.”

“You said.”

Loki sat up, taking your hand. “I have your picture in my wallet.”

“You what?” You blinked. “You didn’t say that.” You scooted a little closer.

“Well, no, I didn’t; I didn’t need you to drop my glass heart, now, did I?” Loki smirked a little. “You know it always has been you, lover.”

“I’m not your lover,” you said exasperatedly.

Loki kissed your cheek. Although you pushed him off once or twice, he managed to snake his arms around your waist and hang on you. “Not yet. I will marry you, whatever it takes.”

+-+--

Sidewalk chalk was an odd Christmas tradition with Thor’s kids. It was another three years after Loki’s drunken proposal, and you and Bucky eventually sorted it out and found you were both much, much happier. Bucky married Sarah Wilson, taking her two boys as his own stepchildren. You were still in the grey area with Loki, but you wouldn’t deny that you were about ready to scream if he didn’t at least try to pop the question.

“Y/N, darling, I brought you something!” Loki’s voice came from upstairs. Thor’s house was large, and the wife he had picked opted to be a stay-at-home mother while the toddlers were toddling. He poked his head out from the upstairs balcony and grinned at you like a madman.

“What did you bring me?” you asked, arching your brow at your boyfriend-but-not-really. He stomped down the stairs, thrusting a little blue bag in your hands.

“I’ve brought glad tidings. I’ve come to free you~” he teased, poking your sides. “My undying affection. My most-ardent love for you—”

“—Can it, tell me what it is,” you said, cutting him off. Loki pulled you flush against his chest, peppering your cheek with kisses.

“I want you to imagine us... you, standing in a nice dress, me, staring at you staring at the sunset,” he whispered, lacing your fingers. “Happy Christmas, darling.”

“What is it?” you pressed, looking in the bag. It was a little picture of a house. “What?”

“That’s our home, sweetheart,” Loki said, resting his head on top of yours. “We’ll live there after the wedding, raise our children...”

“You’re still trying to get me to marry you?” you asked.

“We’ve been engaged for three years!” he scolded playfully. “Not even in your wildest dreams, I would not be trying to make you my wife.”

“What if I am your wife?”

“I’ll try to marry you again!” he laughed, kissing you sweetly.

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki of asgard #loki god of mischief #loki odinson #Loki Laufeyson #loki #mcu #mcu loki #loki mcu #marvel #gaitwae writes #loki x reader angst #i'll add the angst tag just so you guys don't @ me

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headinthestaticsky · 3 years

Text

The Dusk Calls for me: Jasper Hale x My OC Fleur Swan, Chapter 5

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

I recall your soul had a taste like Gardens, flowers, Warm Winds, Warm Winds By SZA FT. Isaiah Rashad

The ride to the hospital was a little hazy and disorientating but I had made it just fine. I was sitting in the hospital room while a nurse was checking my vitals. The double doors had burst open and I see my dad and Bella rushing over to me.

“Fleur, are you okay?” Dad asked. He then saw Tyler sitting on another bed next to me.

“You and I are gonna talk!”

“I’m fine dad calm down.”

“I’m sorry Fleur I really tried to stop.”

“I know it’s okay, I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“No it sure as hell is not okay!”

“Dad, it wasn’t his fault really. Go easy on him.”

“I will not, you could’ve been killed, do you realize that?”

“I do dad but I wasn’t, I am fine. I just got a bump on the back of my head.”

“You boy can kiss your licenses goodbye.”

“Dad...”

The double doors opened again and I was met with a familiar face, Carlisle Cullen had entered the room.

“I heard one of the chiefs daughters was here. I got this one Jackie” He said smiling as he approached me.

“Oh doctor Cullen hello.” Dad said.

“Let’s see here Fleur, it seems you took quite a spill. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, my head is a little sore from when I hit the concrete but other than that I feel fine.”

“Look here for me, your vitals look good and you luckily enough don’t have a concussion but you might experience some disorientation from the adrenaline you had. I’m going to prescribe some pain pills please wait here for me to write that up for you. After that you’re good to go.”

“I’m so sorry Fleur I really am...” Tyler was soon interrupted by the curtains being pulled in front of his face.

“Great, thanks Dr.Cullen.”

“No problem.”

“You, this would’ve been a whole lot worse if Jasper didn’t get to her.” Bella said.

“Uh oh.” I thought to myself I knew someone would’ve seen him.

“Jasper? I like that boyfriend of yours more and more everyday. He’s your son right?” Dad said.

Carlisle looked up before looking back down quickly at my chart.

“Yeah he is his son dad, I mean he got to her so quickly is was amazing.” Bella continued.

“Oh, umm Bella... Could you tell Jasper I’m okay I’m sure he’s freaking out too.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Bella turned and left, Carlisle must’ve been wrong, I had to be concussed. Bella being civil with me? What alternate universe did I enter just now?

POV Change: Bella’s POV

I went to go find Jasper not just for Fleur but, I was also curious how could he of gotten to her so quickly. He was across the lot from us something was going on with this family and I was going to find out what. I was just about to turn the corner when I heard Edward, Rosalie, and Jasper talking.

“This is really bad, 15 students saw what happened Jasper I understand why you did it of course but still.” Rosalie said

“You should’ve thought this through a bit better Jasper.” Edward added.

“Look I wasn’t going to let her get crushed to death by a van. I know you would’ve done the same thing for Bella.”

Edward just looked at him angrily. Carlisle ended the stare down quickly as he noticed I was listening from the corner.

“I think we should continue this in the my office.”

“Jasper, Edward, can I talk to you two?”

They both approached me, looking apprehensive as if they didn’t know what I was going to ask.

“Jasper first off, Fleur wanted to say that she was alright, she didn’t want you worrying about everything. Second h-how did you get over to her so fast?”

Before Jasper could answer, Edward had interjected.

“He was standing right next to her Bella.”

“No he was not, he was standing across the lot with you.”

Edward let out a soft laugh before continuing.

“You hit your head when Fleur pushed you out of the way, you must be confused.” Edward said.

“I know what I saw. Stop trying to make me out to be a liar!” I said getting angry

“And what exactly was that?” Edward asked.

Jasper just stood there, he wasn’t getting much of a chance to talk. It was hard to be around Bella. He was getting more thirsty at the minute but, he continued to stand there not knowing what to do.

“He stopped the van, he pushed it with his hand! Did you not see the dent he left in it?”

“Well no one’s going to believe so...”

“I wasn’t going to tell anybody. I just need to know the truth.”

“Can’t you just thank Jasper for saving your sister and get over it?” Edward said curtly.

I looked at Jasper and quickly said a “Thank you.” I then looked back at Edward.

“You aren’t going to let this go are you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then I hope you enjoy disappointment.” Edward said before walking away, dragging Jasper along with him.

I scoffed before turning around going back to the hospital room. I would have to tell Fleur about this later... if she’d let me.

POV Change: Jasper

Once Bella was out of ear shot I smacked Edward on the back of the head.

“What the hell was that?” I asked

“What do you mean.”

“You wouldn’t even let me get a sentence in.”

“I was trying to save you... I could hear your thoughts. You weren’t coming up with something fast enough.”

“You didn’t exactly do a very good job on it! I mean c’mon Edward you said “no one’s going to believe you.” How much more suspicious can you get than that!”

“I’m sorry Jasper.”

“Sure you are.” I then stormed out of the hospital wanting to go back home.

POV Change: Fleur

“Here you are Fleur, there is your write up. I already notified your Pharmacy. They should be done in an hour.” Carlisle said

“Thank you Doctor, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, call me if you experience any bad side effects with the medication.”

“I will, have a good evening.”

Carlisle left soon after. Dad helped me up and carried my book bag and purse for me.

“Dad you don’t have to do that, I can carry my own stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Who’s going to get my car, I left it at school.”

Bella had come back after talking to Jasper, she seemed confused about something.

“Oh uh, I’ll take you to school tomorrow, you can pick it up that way.” Bella suggested.

“Sure that sounds fine... are you okay with taking me tomorrow?”

“It’s not a problem.” She said... she had a slight smile on her face.

“Thanks.”

“I’m gonna drop you girls off at the house. I’ll get your medicine and then get something for dinner okay?”

“Yeah sounds good.” I said.

“Sure.” Bella said.

The drive was nice, quiet but, it wasn’t filled with tension. It was the most comfortable I had ever been around Bella. It felt strange the last time there relationship was like this was when the were 4. It seems like such a distant memory, but a fond one to her. As much as I tried to fight it, it hurt to always fight with her sister. Deep down, she loved her, and hoped Bella felt that way too. When we got back to the house I had started to head toward the door when Bella walked next to me.

“Hey, uh... do you mind talking to me tonight in your room?”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Thanks, and uh... thanks for pushing me out of the way.”

“No problem.” I said.

It was 6 by the time dad had left again, I was up in my room wanting to finish that essay for English when a heard a soft knock on the door.

“Come in! It should be unlocked.” I said

Bella had come in, she looked nervous as if she didn’t know what to do.

“Umm, I have a lot to say, do you mind if I sit down?”

“Go ahead, I won’t stop you. Is something wrong?”

“How can you be so nice to me? After all the things I’ve done to you?” She asked.

“Hey I haven’t been completely innocent... I’ve said some pretty hurtful things to you too. It’d be insane to say I haven’t hurt you as much as you hurt me.” I said.

“I think I deserved them... I didn’t exactly stick up much for you when mom was... well you know.”

“I think we both need to let this 13 year grudge go... you have to admit, it’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“Let’s start over shall we? I think it’s sad, we’re twin sisters and usually can’t stand being in the same room as each other.” I said

“Yeah, let’s start over...Geez it’s crazy... It feels like a weight has just fallen off my shoulders.” Bella replied.

“Me too.”

She then surprised me by pulling me in for a hug. Was it awkward? Of course it was but, it’s Bella she’s always been awkward.

“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Yeah, uhh... do you remember much of what happened at the accident?”

“Uh oh.” I thought to myself for the second time today.

“I honestly don’t remember much after hitting my head. I blacked out for a bit. Why?” I lied easily.

“Uh... nothing it’s just Jasper seemed to have stopped the van with his bare hands.”

“Really?” I asked in fake shock.

“Yeah... he hasn’t done anything else like that before has it?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Oh...”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s going on with you and Edward... Seems like there’s some tension there.”

“I honestly don’t know... one minute he’s nice to me and the next he’s snapping at me.”

“I think he likes you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean when I first started dating Jasper, he was the same way around me.”

“So what do I do?”

“Just let him get to know you, warm up to him a bit. You never know what can happen.”

“Thanks I will... I’ll leave you alone now.”

“Okay, come back up if you need anything else.”

“I will... and Fleur?”

“Yes?”

“Love you.”

I was shocked, I hadn’t heard her mutter those words to me in so long.

“Love you too.”

#jasper hale x oc #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #emmett cullen #rosalie hale #esme cullen #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #bella swan #twilight #twilight saga

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