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devilmademewriteit · 1 year

Note

completely inspired by a gif set u reblogged. Javi helping you into a bullet proof/tactical vest. you’re scared and he just says a gentle “arms up” as he secures the velcro. he’s scared as well, doesn’t wanna lose you, doesn’t want you to get hurt. but it’s like the fear, the adrenaline, has your emotions haywire and you look into his eyes as he takes hold of your hand so gently and tells you that you’re gonna be okay, and you just want to kiss him, and he wants to kiss you too, but then it’s time to go, and he tells you “later”

IDK WHAT THIS IS LMFAO Javi brings the slut outta me

you’ve inspired me anon here is a TINY FIC/DRABBLE YEEEEEEEE

pairing: javier peña x fem!afab!reader

warnings: fem!afab!reader; use of pet name ‘sweetheart’; canon-typical allusions to violence; language; ANGSTY POO

omg I can’t believe there’s no smut. GUYS I WROTE SOMETHING WITHOUT SMUT. I loooove writing my javi tho so while im busting my ass working on Salvatore part 3 feel so free to leave me lil thingies like this.

-em<3

—

“Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but—”

It was never supposed to be like this.

It was just a summer job — something safe, boring, admin and agendas and addendums. Should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city.

She should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city. Shit. My chest feels like it’s on fire, burnin’ through kerosene.

Is she gonna clock how unsteady I am?

Javi’s footsteps echo down the nearby hallway; you recognize them immediately, and their slanted, hard-right-drag-left rhythm. He comes lumbering through the door, cradling tactical gear between his big, bulging biceps. God, you’d had… thoughts about those biceps.

Even now, with the embassy under cartel-siege, it’s oh-so-hard to push away the x-rated daydreams swirling inside your stress-addled mind.

And he doesn’t look scared.

Fuck, she looks so scared.

“Here,” he says, extending the protective vest towards you. Gingerly peeling your hips off of the desk at your back, you extend your fingers to greet and grab at the rough, thick canvas. The sheer weight of it makes your heart lurch into your throat. Neither one of you lowers your hands.

The dark-green-death-sweater you’d seen him wear so many times, cursing yourself for registering, for caring about what it meant.

That it meant Peña — schmoozing, cocky, effortlessly crude Javier Peña — was going into the field.

So neither of you let go.

The stupid vest had always served as a kind of divining rod, leading you both to the real source of your constant bickering, your irritation and the look of mutual, unabashed worry you had shared as a soldier came bursting into the office, panting in tune with the sirens, carrying news of the currently unfolding attack.

Caring without meaning to.

Giving a shit without wanting to.

“I-“ you swallow, trailing off, cursing the swelling bubble forming at neck-breaking speed inside your throat, “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Of course she doesn’t. That one’s on me. ‘Thing like her should never have to wear one of these.

Shouldn’t even have to see one of these.

“S’okay,” he mutters, taking the burden of the gear into his hands, brow furrowing into a look of delicate responsibility. “Turn around.”

Under different circumstances, those words might’ve (embarrassingly enough) enticed a very different feeling from you.

Now, they were simply effective.

Acceding, you rotate, painfully slowly as every hair along your spine lifts, one after the other. Peña shuffles, adjusting both himself and the gear to stand close — too close — behind you.

“Arms up, sweetheart.”

You listen, dragging your arms up into the static air, trying to ignore the soft edge in his voice. It reminds you of something.

Something like resistance.

Stifled want.

Desire with a sock shoved down its bone-dry throat.

And it’s so level, so calm. How is he so calm?

Can she tell I’m totally freaking out?

Your shoulders sag under the weight of the vest. Jesus. It’s so much heavier than you’d imagined. Not quite as heavy as the feeling of doom settling over you, grief from the naive sense of safety you’d walked into work with.

Just this morning.

Javi busies himself with the Velcro, uncharacteristically silent. His knuckles brush the insides of your wrists, and you try to resist it — God, you really do — but all efforts to keep those prickling tears at bay are undertaken in vain.

You quiver slightly, face burning in shame.

Is she shaking?

Gentle, unusually gentle when his fingers wrap around your upper arm, spinning you around to face him once more.

“Look at me.”

You do. His shadowed eyes swim, dance, rage with experience, and you’re left envious, wishing that you’d hardened yourself to the world in the same way. How many times had this man woken up, driven to work, drunk his morning coffee and smoked his morning smoke, accepting that it could be his last?

Knowing Peña, he probably found ways not to think about it.

For sure, he didn’t think about it.

But you did.

Every time that vest came out.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, alright?”

It’s an almost whisper, a mere brush of air against your brow. His own creases in earnestness as he utters the pledge.

“How can you do this for a living?”

You don’t mean for it to come out so rough and jagged, hissing for help like a neglected kettle on the stove. Javi offers you a smile of understanding as though remembering his own first time.

Then, before either of you can stop it, he places the flat of his palm to your cheek.

And you can’t keep from noticing how easily the calloused pad of his thumb molds to your complying skin.

“You get used to it,” he returns, and every word is coated, soaked in the sad, tragic truth. “Though this part’s always hard.”

Nothing exists beyond the smell of tobacco on his breath and the total absorption in his eyes. You’re sure the latter is mirrored in your own, too.

Timid, uneasy, begging him to ease the discomfort for you. “What part is this?”

The part where I lie to you. The part where I bubble-wrap the only thing in this country worth protecting into a shitty, almost useless accessory of war.

The part where I remember—

Is it the part where we remember how easily we could lose each other?

And we don’t even have each other, for God’s sake. Lookin’ up at me as if she can trust me, and the only thing I’ve been able to trust for years is that the moment will come, that moment where it all just gets to be too much and fuck—is this it? Maybe—

This is the part where we—

Kiss her, God, I just wanna fuckin’ kiss her—

Kiss?

“Peña! Time to move!”

Murphy’s voice slices — easily — through the tentative moment of uncertainty. It erodes the softness of Javi’s features into that familiar, hardened stone.

His hand drops from your face, but the tracings linger.

If you couldn’t trust the world outside, maybe you could trust Javi inside. Maybe he’d learned to live without something to lean on, but you weren’t yet prepared to go on—

She doesn’t know how much I fuckin’ need her. Or how many times I’ve tried to say it—and in so many ways—but every time I open my goddamn mouth it just comes out… wrong. Like it’s not enough. Like it’s not true that I can finally fuckin’ breathe when she’s… just… existing around me. Like losing her wouldn’t mean goin’ on—

Faithlessly. Radically accepting the confusing, overwhelming uncertainty of the world.

He clears his throat.

“I’ll see you after.”

Your gaze tumbles down, averting the twinge of dishonesty in his own at his promise.

“Yeah—yeah, see you after.”

He backs away without turning. For a moment, you think he’s gearing up to say something. Something like he always says, like, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, or use your head or maybe even a smile, sweetheart.

But he doesn’t. He just shakes his head, his dark hair tumbling around and exaggerating his hesitation. Although it hurts, you force yourself to watch as he walks away. How he bows his crown, brings a hand up to anxiously rub at the side of his jaw, the roundness of his shoulder responding and near-bulging under the blue cotton.

Admittedly, a kiss from Javier Peña would’ve been nice.

But to be cradled between those arms, wrapped up in him instead of the goddamn tactical gear squeezing, robbing the air from your lungs…

That would’ve been it.

When this is all over, you think to yourself.

And as Javi greets Steve, apologizing for the delay, the hand squeezing his gun feels strangely empty, haunted by the novelty of touching your burning skin.

When this is all over, he thinks to himself.

Anyways, isn’t that what faith is? Making plans for later, as if anyone’s ‘later’ is promised, a guarantee? As if either of you could count on tomorrow?

Yeah, that’s gotta be it.

Joining the gaggle of scared, hopeless government employees, desperate for reassurance, for the realization blooming inside the depths of your knowing; you pause, letting it hit you, translating it into words…

“—I have it.”

—

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x female reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña angst #javier pena narcos #javier peña fic #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #narcos #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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whattheheckmidoriya · 2 years

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it's me again if you don't mind 😅 can you do headcanons of Levi being protective of his crush? like he's bonded to her with the Ackerman bond but she doesn't know. can you pls make her kinda shy and flustered/nervous around him? ps. I was the anon who asked for the bullied reader fic and i wanted to thank u! tbh i was reading it and thinking this sounds like something i requested until i realised it was me 😂😂

Oh, I hope you enjoyed how the fic turned out— I had such a blast working on it!

•

Levi never understood what tied him to you. You and your grace both on and off the field, sneaking through the cracks of his fractured heart until there was nothing but warmth where there was a void. He always found it endearing, how you could be such a menace as a soldier, yet turn into a sweet, shy thing once the gear came off and you were off the clock.

A killer on the field, an angel in his arms.

He understood you were more than capable of caring for yourself, yet he still lingered closely, always keeping an eye out. Levi would always steer you out of danger whenever the possibility of it rose in his mind. Walls know what he'd do— how far he'd fall— if something ever happened to you.

He knows he can be overbearing at times, knows he can sometimes be too much. He doesn't mean to; there's a gravity to you, something that pulls him in despite himself. It happens without him even realizing. Perhaps that's why you seem so flustered around him, always stuttering and stumbling?

He could only hope you understood that everything he did came from a place of love— a thing so sweet, yet foreign he hoped he'd learn to grow accustomed to by your side.

#pau answers #levi aot #levi attack on titan #snk levi #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman #captain levi x you #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman headcanons

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aliorsboxostuff · 1 year

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i saw in your bio that you're genderfluid and i'm literally screaming i'm genderfluid too :)) is it ok if i request a tangerine x genderfluid reader fic? :3 i don't have any idea for the plot, maybe reader coming out to him? if that's ok with you, of course. much love <3

A/N: HI FELLOW GENDERFLUID!! I, too, am the fluid of genders. And yes absolutely! As for the fic itself, I'm taking a little bit of my own experience being genderfluid with my accepting friends so if this is too short I (sadly) have yet to find a man that accepts my fluidity :( BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THE WRITER enjoy this fluffy, soft fic anon! <3

At Your Pace

Tags: Tangerine x Genderfluid!reader, no masc/fem specified, no use of Y/n, fluff, no smut, soft!Tangerine, supportive!Tangerine, coming out, reassurance and acceptance, anxiety (Only a bit), no hurt all comfort, Tangerine might be a bit OOC sorry!

Three months and he still hasn't asked about your gender. You started to worry, because he either doesn't care or he’ll care too much and freak out when you finally tell him. Your brain leans to the latter possibility so you decide to confront him one fateful night.

—

Three months

9 weeks, 91 days, 2,184 hours since Tangerine and you became a couple.

Three months since you went on your first date with him—a trip to the aquarium where you beamed at every fish that swam past you, adoration in Tangerines eyes—and has since gone on various different dates and meet ups with him.

Yes, you're aware of what he and his twin do for a living. No, you didn't get killed by his agency and swore to protect that information. Yes, you actually don't mind it since he's the most interesting thing that has happened in your otherwise boring life. And yes, you miss him a lot when he goes on missions, but despite it all, you await his return home for another week or two going to places with him by your side.

Three months, and he doesn't ask what gender you identify as.

To put it simply, when you and Tangerine met, you instantly clocked the posh and pristine look and thought; "He's definitely gay."

while on the other hand, taking account of your choice of clothing and makeup, it's not clear what you are. A damn fine human being for sure, but either you're in or out of the gender spectrum is questionable. Despite that though, Tangerine saunters over to you from across the park, to where you're sitting and reading your book, and introduces himself with the most charming smile. He only asked what you go by—pronouns and sexuality so he doesn't approach the wrong person—and went on with his conversation.

Since then, you've been spending most of your time stuck to his side, going on date number 60th and so on, sharing stories from missions or from your everyday life, and planning on far futures you dont think could happen, but can hope.

He's always been supportive of your choices; encouraging you to wear pieces you know you'll look good in but anxious to wear, beaming at you when you go out with a new makeup look, and overall loving you without hesitation.

You tried bringing it up once or twice, while watching a movie where one of the characters is either nonbinary or genderfluid, and has since learned that Tangerine is cisgender and gay. He asked you the same question, minus the gender, and that got your gears going because; who asks the "What sexuality and gender are you?" without the gender part?

Ever since then, you've just been slightly inching your way to find a perfect opportunity to tell him.

Tonight, is the night.

Four days into Tangerines week off and you and him are currently setting up a comfy night in. Blankets, pillows, and a movie already picked for the living room TV. You've currently cocooned inside one of the many blankets on the couch when you hear Tangerine walk into the room.

"Here we are," He sets down the bowl of snacks. "Room for one more?"

You chuckle and extend your arm, enough so Tangerine can slip next to you underneath the blankets. He starts to shuffle for the remote and you realize this would be the only chance to finally talk to him about it. No romantic settings, no days out, just a safe space between you two.

When he finally finds the remote, you also find your courage.

"Wait," Your hand stops on top of his. Tangerine turns towards you, bright blue eyes with curiosity in them. "I have something i wanna talk about,"

He nods, setting down the remote and fully bringing your hands into his. "Of course love," he answers slowly.

Words jumble in your brain as you try to arrange them right, anxiety biting at your tongue. “Take your time,” Tangerine, ever so carefully, caresses circles in between your index and thumb. You inhale, then exhale a shaky breath before you have those stark eyes laced with worry.

“We've been dating for three months now, yes?” He nods, you slowly continue.

“You’ve told me about your work, and I've told you my secrets as well, but…” Your voice croaks. You half expected Tangerine to push on, but instead, he sits attentively, still holding your hands in his. There's really a reason why Tangerine would freak out—Or hell forbid, break up with you—So the growing sweat beneath your collar doesn't add up to Tangerine's patience. You gulp, finally continuing.

“There’s something you need to know,” You wait.

A beat, before he replies steadily, “Alright,”

“I’m gender fluid.” Your eyes snap to the blanket pooling at your waist. The silence was nauseating, nothing good could come out of a pause from such a heavy confession, and a late one at that. What were you thinking? You should've given him the chance at the first week, hell, the first day! It’s common courtesy nowadays, isn't it? Why did you wait for-

“Okay,”

Your head jerks up. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay, and?”

Your moth mimics a fish, eyes blinking rapidly. Tangerine grins and tilts his head as if your answer confuses him instead of the other way around. “That's it? Okay?”

“Yeah, what else am I supposed to say?” He grins. “I thought you were going to say you’re a murderer or sumn’, now that would make m’jaw drop,”

“Huh?” You laugh in disbelief.

“Well yeah, we only got one room for a killer in this relationship and I believe that’s been taken by me, love,”

“Tangerine!” Your laughter grows, careening into his shoulder as he also chuckles.

“What? I'm right, aren't I? I’m the assassin and you’re my dear to come home to,”

“Come on!” You giggle and punch his chest lightly. You’re startled when he grabs the hand that punched him, lacing his fingers between yours.

“I’m serious, angel,” You lift your head and could feel your breath stutter with the way his gaze bores into yours. “I feel honored to know you’re comfortable with me to tell me you’re fluid,”

“I didn't want to pry while being so early together, I wanted you to share with me at your own pace,” He smiles. It shines rivals stars in the sky. “Thank you, dearest,”

He brings your hand and presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles. You held your breath. “I thought… you’d wanted to know that earlier, I worried myself thinking I told you my gender too late,”

“Darling, I fell in love with you and your personality, believe it or not,” He smirks. “Definitely not with what you’re hiding under those baggy trousers-”

“Tangerine!” You fully crumble in a heap of laughter while Tangerine holds you to his chest, also giggling. These are definitely the reasons you fell for him—And to quote the man himself, ‘Definitely not with what he's packing’—The ability to reduce your anxiety and comfort you through it.

“Thank you,” You reply, finally sober from your laugh. “For accepting me,”

“Of course, my love, every day,” Your smile broadens, and so do Tangerines. He slowly treads his finger behind your head, brushing at your hair and on your nape, and brings you close to press a kiss. You hum against his lips, relishing in the warmth of his hold, worry replaced by relief and your heart floods with love.

My requests are open!

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine x male reader #tangerine x m!reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x gender fluid reader #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #bullet train 2022 #bullet train x reader #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fic #lio writes

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maryaustria · 2 years

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Share ten different favourite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order, then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice) 🎥🎬📺

got tagged by @sometimes-i-talk-a-lot !!!

no idea who to tag so feel free to do it

im not sure youre axtually supposed to talk about them a lot but i did start rambling on with most of them so its going under the read more

kakyoin from jojo's bizarre adventure - the funny gamer man :). i like how i managed to read/watch all of jojo but he still managed to be my favorite through it all. his backstory was just really relatable to me i guess.

Patches from the soulsborne games - hes just kind of a huge asshole everytime you meet but something about hearing his voice after he kicks you down a pit for the 10th time. A lot of it probably comes from his voice actor. he really sounds like hes enjoying himself every time he gets to voice him.

ichiban kasuga from yakuza like a dragon - hes just a very loveable guy. everything from the way he talks with his friends to the way he talks with everyday people makes him just easy to fall in love with. Its also nice seeing how despite what he goes through he still keeps his friendly personality

lady from devil may cry - shes really cool and i like her character a lot. her arc in the 3rd game is just really satisfying to follow from beginning to end. she doesnt get much in terms of story in 4 or 5 but i feel like her character is fine how she is and adding more would kinda take away from it. she did get a nice little moment in 5 though which i liked. Also its nice to know that in a series where all the other fighters have some form of demonic powers she is 100% human. And please capcom make her playable in 5!!!!!

Raiden from metal gear - My favorite boy whos been through so so much. I cant really talk about how i like him since that would mostly involve spoilers and would also make up multiple pages. In 2 i just like the way he develops throughout the story and how he finds meaning by the end. Hes also the protag of one of my favorite games metal gear rising revengance. Despite the over the top nature of the game i still think they did his character justice and its a nice extension of the story of 2 (though nothing compares to that imo)

Sans from undertale - Despite everything i still really like undertale, its world and its characters. And the funny bone man managed to still be my fav. His jokes and his mysterious nature all makes him really likable to me. His fight is pretty enjoyable too. also hes a skeleton so theres that.

Samus from Metroid - Basically everything i wish i was. Shes cool, strong and she still manages all of this without saying a whole lot. I especially like her body language in dread. pls just ignore how she is in other m....

Tienshinhan from dragon ball - this ones mostly an old favorite. he was my favorite charcater when i watched it as a kid and he still is. He just seemed really cool everytime he appeared. Still think its bullshit how he isnt considered the strongest human -3-

Bridget from guilty gear - this ones a very recent fav. i never really knew anything about her before she appeared in strive but she definitely made an impact on me. Something about seeing a trans girl accepting herself in a mainstream videogame just makes me really happy. Also her theme song is soooo good and is soooo relatable to me. Like yeah i also hate the alarm clock i chose and i also taste like vegetables i dont like. 😭

Aqua from kingdom hearts - Shes one of the more competend characters in the series. She isnt without flaws or anything but she definitely gets shit done when she wants to. Her fighting style is also really nice. And of course she has blue hair and pronouns 🙄

#mary me #text dot text #also i got sad thinking about some of them....

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idv-twins · 3 years

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Welcome to the manor! How do you guys work exactly in matches, anyways?

It must be hectic, in any case.

B: To put it simply, only one of us is "active" during a match at a time. By reverting or reversing a pocket watch... we're allowed to switch between each other.

B: I am what is considered a decoder and Jonathan is a rescuer. Depending on which way the clock marches on determines what action we take.

J: Bell usually starts off the match and I hang behind in an... odd world. When the clock switches, so do our places.

J: If I remember right... there's a hunter with a similar kind of deal... An instance where we both exist and not exist at the same time.

B: The place where we go when switched out is the very same as the map itself. Our bodies move in the same way the current leader's does. It can... be kinda terrifying sometimes.

J: So if I walk up to a cipher, Bell has no choice but to do the same action in the other world. If she gets chaired, then so do I in the other world... we still see the hunters and survivors in there.

J: Their appearances, though... they become distorted sometimes...

((More details about their traits under the cut!))

TWO OF A KIND

The Twins both carry around a pocket watch that allows them to switch between each other. When the clock is moving clockwise, Bell is in charge. When the clock is moving counter-clockwise, Jonathan is in charge. The twins both have their own separate personalities and will function differently in game.

The Twins cannot change when injured or during tide turner's "invincibility" window.

When changing, debuffs and buffs will roll over to the other twin.

After switching, there will be a 15 second cooldown before they can switch again. There will also be a "Dizzy" debuff that will effect all movement and interaction by 3% for 3 seconds.

Bell will always assume control first thing in the match.

CLOCKWISE

Bell is well knowledge of machinery and has an above average decoding speed. She excel in decoding ciphers and will get them done at least 15% faster. However, her hands tremble out of fear when attempting to recuse, so Bell's rescue speed is decreased by 7%.

COUNTER-CLOCKWISE

Jonathan loves danger, and he isn't afraid of some mean old hunter. His rescue speed is increased by 7%. However, he is easily distracted and cannot focus on decoding. His decoding speed is decreased by 15%.

#idv oc #identity v oc #idv #identity v #The Twins #Tick Tock // Bell Davis #Tock Tick // Jonathan Davis #Clock Without Gears // Anon #;;hehehehehe #;;their traits im r proud of #;;it used to be they were both on the field but #;;this way its easier #;;and considering an already existing gimmick exists on the hunters side #;;its kinda neat!#;;tldr #;;bell and jona do participate in the matches #;;but only one is active at a time #;;a unique decoder and rescue combo!

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clusterfuck-misc · 2 years

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ANON ASKS:

I binge read your Puppy Obsession with Leon and i am HOOKED! if its not much trouble, would you do a pt 3? cant get enough honestly 🍄🍄

If Leon Kennedy doesn’t become the poster boy for this blog, I’m suing.

I’d also like to take the time to thank everyone for your support! I’m glad you guys really like my stories, and I’ll be sure to continue writing!

Yandere Leon Kennedy x Officer Reader

This is in HC format.

The reader is gender neutral.

Content warning: Excessive stalking, paranoia, dread, breaking and entering, obsessive behavior, Leon being Leon, being rendered unconscious.

ARCHIVED POST. @clusterfuck-yandere IS MY NEW BLOG.

PLEASE DO NOT SEND REQUESTS ON THIS BLOG.

— After that night, you decided to pack your things.

You just didn’t feel safe staying in your own home anymore.

Food, clothing, electronics, pistol, gear, and…

You noticed your tooth brush was damp from recent usage.

… Maybe a new toothbrush.

After checking that you had everything, you got in your car and headed to the nearest motel.

You kept checking your backseat, the rear view mirror, even the pedestrians you drove by.

There’s no way in hell you were taking any more chances.

The motel conditions weren’t the best — there was the feint smell of cigarettes and you didn’t dare think about what that substance on the couch is — but at least you were guaranteed safety for a while.

You stayed in your room for the entire day, constantly checking the windows, bathroom, closet, and under the bed (you learned your lesson) every 10 minutes or so.

Every car that passed by on the road caused your heart to jump, and every car that actually pulled into the motel pumped adrenaline into your veins.

The occasional footsteps that you heard outside your room made you clench your pistol tighter.

It was another sleepless night for you.

— You practically begged your fellow officers for patrol duty over the phone in the morning.

The first couple of people you asked turned you down, but you were lucky enough that Officer Ford was willing to switch with you.

“You’re a life saver,” you sighed.

Ford asked you if everything was alright, to which you lied and told him there was nothing to worry about.

“Well… if you say so…”

After he hung up, you sank to the floor.

Now to avoid running into Leon.

You got ready for work and made sure your belongings were secure. If he found a way to break into your room, you didn’t want him going through your stuff again.

Then, making sure the door was locked, you drove to work.

Avoiding Leon wasn’t too hard, much to your relief.

All you had to do was sit far away from him during the briefing, practically sprint to your patrol car, and begin your patrol with Officer Phillips.

“You take patrol a lot, rookie,” she chortled.

“I find it calming,” you shrugged.

That was technically true.

Anywhere without Leon was immediately calming.

When the day was over, you sprinted to your car and drove back to the motel, taking the precautions you took before initially arriving at you temporary home.

You checked to see if anything was out of place. A bit of reassurance was present when you saw everything was right where you left it.

That didn’t stop you from checking the room, though.

You kept looking under the bed, peaking into the closet, searching the bathroom, and peering out the windows for hours.

The clock read 11 pm when you checked the time.

After no evidence of Leon turned up, you sat down on the bed and leaned against the headboard.

He isn’t here, you told yourself. He isn’t here.

You began to audibly mumble that like a prayer.

— You woke up the next morning feeling the slightest bit refreshed.

After what felt like ages, you finally got some rest.

It felt weird. You were so used to your eyes feeling heavy that you forgot what it was like to actually sleep.

There was no doubt in your mind that he was still looking for you, but all that mattered was he hasn’t found you yet.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Because that’s when you noticed the meal laid out for you on the small table.

Store-bought muffins, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, cereal, it was like a buffet.

You knew you didn’t make any of this last night.

And it was all semi warm, meaning it was made recently.

It didn’t take long for you to begin searching the room with your pistol.

Thankfully, you didn’t find him anywhere. He must’ve left a little while before you woke up.

But how the fuck did he get in here without you noticing?

Where you just that tired last night??

The thought of him somehow unlocking the door, sleeping next to you, and making you a meal without waking you up made a shiver travel up your spine.

Lord knows what else he did.

Cursing yourself for sleeping last night, you began to pack your items and load up your car.

The food that was left for you was thrown out (you’d hate to waste a perfectly good meal, but you just didn’t trust it).

You sat in the car for 20 minutes or so (after checking the backseat again), debating on your next move.

Do you relocate to a new motel?

No… what’s the use if he can find you within 24 hours? And would constantly being on the move upset him?

As much as you could care less about his feelings, it’s probably not the smartest idea to upset the guy who keeps finding ways into your house.

You also figured staying with someone else was out of the question for the same reason. What if he assumes things?

Besides, dragging other people into your problems was a dick move.

So, if you can’t switch motels or stay with someone, what now?

— You decided to figure out what to do after work.

Even though you dreaded the idea of seeing Leon’s face, you didn’t want to spend the rest of your career hiding.

Who knows; maybe he has patrol and you’ll get to file reports in peace.

Much to your relief, your hypothesis seemed to be correct. He wasn’t at his desk at all.

The tension from your shoulders seeped out of your muscles as you sat down at your own desk.

Almost an hour passed of you quietly doing your work, and never have you felt so grateful while reading over a complaint about a patrol car’s sirens being “too loud.”

Officer Douglas decided to drop by for a small exchange.

“Gettin’ work done, (L/N).”

You offered a smile. “What can I say? I try.”

He picked up a file and skimmed over the first paper in the stack. “Too bad Kennedy’s not here to help. Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Isn’t he out patrolling?”

Douglas shook his head. “Nope. Called in sick.”

You felt your stomach drop.

So, he wasn’t here it all.

That meant he was home, right? Trying to recover from whatever sickness he had?

If he even had a sickness..?

The senior officer noticed how shaken you looked. “Everything alright?”

After a few moments, you assured him that you were fine. Just that you “suddenly remembered something.”

He didn’t press further and wished you good luck with your reports.

But barely got any work done after that.

All you could think about was what Leon could possibly be “calling in sick” for.

— You drove back to your own home after work.

As much as you didn’t want to — hell, it made you sick to your stomach just standing on the doormat — you knew you had to.

He was in there.

There was no doubt he was in your home.

So, getting your pistol out, you braced yourself for entry.

This was it.

You were gonna catch him.

And make him leave you alone by force.

Your hand hesitated on the doorknob for several minutes, heart thumping in your ears, before throwing the door open.

Upon entering, you noticed how clean the house looked.

Dishes were cleaned, the floor was vacuumed, the slight scent of air freshener was even present.

Guess you found out the reason why he took a sick day.

Your entire house was spotless. No dirt, no dust, not even a small piece of lint was seen.

When you looked at the windows, however, you found one singular blotchy smudge.

Like someone’s breath was hitting the window.

And it look rather recent.

He was waiting for you.

“Alright,” you called out, checking the (spotless) bathroom with your pistol. “I know you’re here, Leon.”

You got no response, but it’s not like you were expecting one.

“There’s no point in hiding, damnit. Come out and fucking face me.”

The only sound through your home was your own footsteps.

“Wow…” you dryly chuckled. “You’re brave enough to break into my house and sleep next to me. Where did all that confidence go?”

A feint thump that came from your room caused you your body to jolt.

Of course he was in there…

“You know, I can’t but to think… why me?! Why not that pretty redhead who wanted to work for the FBI, or the handsome tall guy with the Caribbean accent?”

Adrenaline caused your heart to pound as you stared at your bedroom door.

“You’re fucking sick, Leon Kennedy. I hope you burn in hell.”

You then kicked the door open.

He wasn’t out in the open, to both your relief and disdain. He was probably hiding under your bed (your neatly made bed, might I add) or in the closet.

God. You didn’t want to check either.

But, gathering your courage, you decided to check the closet first.

The door creaked open as you practically threw it off the wall, and you held your pistol out with a ready trigger finger.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the copious amounts of photos hanging up in it.

“… What the fuck…”

There had to be at least 100, covering the closet from top to bottom. You couldn’t even see the wall behind it all.

Photos of you from the police academy.

Photos of you at the cafe or store.

Photos of you in your car.

Photos of you sleeping.

Photos of you at the motel.

Photos of you in general.

It was getting harder and harder to keep your stomach at bay.

While you were staying at the motel, he made your closet into his own picture gallery. You couldn’t stop staring in horror at this psycho’s creation.

Just as when you were about to tear your eyes away, though, your ears picked up on the slightest creak.

A surprised yell ripped through your throat as you could feel hands grabbing you from behind. You immediately began thrashing and kicking while your body was being pulled against someone’s chest.

“LET ME GO,” you screamed. “LET ME GO!”

Pistol now ripped from your hand, you found yourself trapped under a body as you desperately tried to escape your attacker’s grasp.

“I love you,” that sickening voice cried. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love—”

You managed to punch him in the face and wrestle out of his arms. A whine of pain sounded while you reached for your gun on the ground.

Just as your finger managed to graze it, however, he pulled you by the ankle away from your weapon.

“FUCK,” you hollered, looking back at him. “LET GO, SICK FUCK.”

No matter how much you kicked at his face, his iron grip didn’t release you. You were back in his arms as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t hurt me,” he wailed. “Pl… please don’t… I love you!! I love you, I— I… Please… I love you—!!”

His tears soaked your shirt as you continued to fight against him. “EAT SHIT,” you spat, kicking away from him and slipping out of his grasp.

Before you could get to your feet, Leon quickly reached for your pistol and pointed it at you.

That got you to freeze in your spot.

“D… don’t make me,” he pleaded, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to— I…”

Deciding it was best to reason with him, you slightly put your hands up. “Then don’t.”

“B… but… y-you’re running away, and—and I don’t want you to— and— god, why don’t you love me?!”

You didn’t know what to say.

However, silence didn’t seem like the right answer. His eyes got dark as he thrusted the gun’s tip at you. “WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME?!”

Was this how you were going to die? In your own home, shot by your own gun?

Would people even know who killed you?

Surely, there’s enough evidence to pin Leon at the scene. His DNA had to be everywhere by now.

Fuck that, you bitterly screamed in your head. I’m not dying here!!

“Leon,” you began, voice shaky and weak, “you made me feel unsafe. You know this is illegal, right?”

His expression was unreadable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking in that twisted mind of his. “I did it for you,” he whimpered. “I did everything for you… I love you… I… love you…”

“Then don’t shoot,” you coaxed. “Put the gun down if you love me so much.”

More tears poured down him face. The agonizing sobs that came from his throat was almost too much to bare. “O… okay…”

The relief that washed over you when he lowered his gun was euphoric. You almost collapsed to the floor.

He was going to let you live.

Surely, he was.

Maybe he would even let you go if you were lucky.

But, just as the thought crossed your mind, you felt something hard hit the side of your neck.

It knocked the wind out of you and shocked you to the core.

Before you could even process what just happened, your vision began to fade into the darkness.

The last thing you heard before going unconscious was Leon’s babbling and crying.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…. I’m…”

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 3 years

Text

🔫Dating Kenny Ackerman 🔫

Kenny Ackerman x Female reader

What would it be like dating Kenny Ackerman as a member of the Anti-Personnel Control Squad?

Warnings: Swearing, unwanted touching

A/N: This was an anon request! My first Attack on Titan headcannons but definitely not my last 🥰

First off, YN you are one badass mother fucker

You literally have to be

You don't have a choice because you were chosen by ✨THE✨ Kenny Ackerman himself to be apart of the Anti-Personnel Control Squard

We will call it "APCS" for short 🤗

You had a rough life growing up

Legit that's how you met Kenny

You were a lost soul in the underground, fighting everyday for your life

Let's just say, you did your fair share of fighting

Sorry YN but no real room to be soft when you live in the underground

You meet Kenny randomly one day when you had been walking home

Some gross dude coped a feel of your bottom 👀

Ope 😶 bad idea my dude

Kenny had watched the whole thing, in fact he was on his way to backhand the bastard

No need Kenny 🤚🏻

Yn's got this

Without a word, you kick the man below the belt and then slug him straight in the face

Ok YN we see you 👁

We don't tolerate that behavior 💅

Men are trash and we know it

"Let that teach to never EVER grope a women without her permission again!"

Walks away 🚶‍♀️

Pretty sure Kenny has never seen anything more attractive

Let's be honest here, Kenny is a hard man and kind of an ass

But he can appreciate when a woman can stand up for herself ☺

Mans will follow you from a ✨safe distance✨

You already clocked him when you punched the pervert

"You know if you are going to follow me you could at least have the decency to make it subtle"

Kenny is convinced you have eyes in the back of your head 👀

You turn, giving him a sweet smile

Like you are tough as nails but that smile babe 😌

Consider Kenny done for

Mans instantly fell in love

He's not the kind of guy to "date" but he definitely wants to get to know you

He takes you to bars and drinks with you

Thats your date 🤚🏻

Don't expect flowers or too much romance YN

Sorry but Kenny is not that guy

He wants a girls who can handle herself

You fit that bill

After a few dates, there becomes this unspoken rule that you are together

Kenny doesn't like labels fight me

But he's possessive as HELL

Legit mans doesn't even so much like a man looking in your direction

"Were you looking at my girl??" 😠

No sir I was reading the menu on the wall chill tf OUT 😳

When the APCS comes up, Kenny wants you to join with him

He's running the show so he picks his team

You are obviously first pick

First off, you can handle yourself

Second off, you are his girlfriend

You really think he's gonna leave you in the underground YN 🙄

When training starts, he sees how perfectly capable you are

Like ok using ODM gear and shooting a gun at the same time?

What kind of fuckery is that!

Like you are hella talented YN 😲

Plus you look good doing it 😏

Kenny likes how capable you are but that doesn't mean he mind showing off

He's the captain, it's like a rule or something

So when Levi and the gang pull into the city, Kenny sees the perfect opportunity to showcase his skills

Legit Levi might be humanities strongest but like it's in the Ackerman blood

Kenny is so eloquent on this ODM gear

Like a freaking artist 🎨

And for the limited direction the guns offer, he's an amazing shot

He pulls up on Levi slowly 🐌

Legit mans is so quiet ok nobody knew

You stare in wonder

Levi has like no clue

That is until Kenny takes his shot

Levi 👉🏻😶👀

You 👉🏻 😳😲

Kenny 👉🏻🤠😏

Oh its on now

Kenny and Levi have their little fly fest

You try to keep up 🤚🏻

It's not happening YN

You might be strong but cardio is not your thing

And like, who can even keep up with Kenny and/or Levi?

Nobody Mikasa

You are legit impressed as all hell

Those two are freaking spider monkeys

You lost them like 12 times

Kenny and you manage to escape 🕺

You are seriously beyond impressed by your mans

But he's a smug asshole so he of course already knows this

"That was incredible Kenny" 🤩

"Tell me something I don't already know babe"

🙄🙄🙄🙄

Kiss the man YN

Please shut him up

Them challenge him to an ODM race 🏁

He let's you win

Or so he says 😌

You won YN, not only the race but also the heart of Kenny Ackerman 🥰

#kenny ackerman x yn #kenny ackerman x you #kenny ackerman x reader #kenny ackerman #kenny ackerman headcannons #kenny ackerman scenarios #attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan scenarios #attack on titan

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 3 years

Text

Overworked

Fandom: DC Pairing: Batsis!reader x Batfamily Word count: 3k Summay: Your on your way to be the next C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises, but the road is filled with challenges and a lack of self-care that your family can’t help but worry about (based on this) Warning: Slight angst and unconciousness, near death experience Requested by a pretty great Anon: Can you do a one shot of future ceo batsis overworking herself with long days and vigilante nights and she’s basically not sleeping or taking care of herself and batfams gotta step in and make her listen to reason.

The cup of coffee had already grown cold, the liquid inside it stale and surely undrinkable, when you reached for it. Hardly the first few drops of the liquid had ran down your throat when you realized the horrible transition it had gone through from the nectar of productivity to the lovechild of tar and sulfur, your face distorting into an expression of utmost disgust as you quickly put it back down and besides the other six paper-cups that were all half-filled at most. You sighed when you realized that it must have already been an hour since you had made - and after completely forgot about - the coffee. It really was a cursed circle that you had been going through for the last eight hours. You made a cup, brought it to your office, drank a bit, forgot about it and realized how horrible it now tasted half an hour or so later and then you took at least another twenty minutes before deciding to head for your next cup. Was it already time for the next one? No, it could wait a bit longer. You turned your attention back to the screen in front of you - or rather the three screens - and let your eyes fly over all the data and graphs and numbers that you had to have in a presentable form by next morning for the monthly debriefing. This time would be your first time without Bruce on the sidelines and overlooking your work, a fact that made you feel proud at your accomplishment while simultaneously scaring you to the core. You knew that logically it wouldn’t be different than the last two - which you had also done basically solo with Bruce only sitting beside you silently observing - but there was still that internal voice that told you that without your father by your side the board would rip you apart until nothing was left over. You didn’t know what exactly caused it but suddenly you felt dizzy and the letters and numbers in front of you started swimming around, turning into absolute gibberish, the neon-lights of the screen hurting your eyes. No, not the screens themselves, it was the contrast between the brightly lit screens and the darkness that spread out behind them. It was only then that you let your gaze move behind the confines of your office and through the glass doors to the rest of the office space that was completely engulfed in darkness. Now you realized that it wasn’t only that, it was more, there was no soul wandering the floor and no sound beside the ever-so-steady growling of the computer fan and the clicking of your keyboard. “Fuck,” you couldn’t help but mutter when you looked at the clock beside you which already read half past nine. Which meant that you only had half an hour at most before your patrol started. Ignoring the pounding that built up in your head you tried to remember how it was possible for the time to surprise you like that. You had come to work at eight that morning and had spent two hours calling around, checking on contracts and meeting with potential clients, then you had your daily briefing with the department heads - which had extended into almost an hour because Brad from PR really couldn’t get his shit together - then you had to talk to HR about finding a possible replacement for Brad from PR and after you had started working on the numbers. And now you were standing in the elevator on your way to the car park. Did you have Lunch today? No, you had to skip Lunch break for Brad. What about Breakfast? No, wait, you forgot about that too. You rubbed your eyes and felt the need to curse rise again when you realized that you’d have to get right back to the numbers as soon as you had finished patrol which meant that you wouldn’t be able to sleep yet again. What was that? The fourth night in a row? Your only solace was the possibility that you’d maybe finish quickly and get a good one to two hours before you had to be back in the office, but deep inside you knew that it was unlikely. It hadn’t worked the last four nights either. But you’d pull through. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. After tomorrow’s meeting you’d go home at a normal time and indulge yourself in that full meal your stomach had been begging you for, sleep for a full eight hours and maybe even watch a movie if you felt especially crazy. Just for one night you’d really let yourself go. But for that to be possible you had to bite your teeth together and stay on your path.

The elevator arrived at the car park and you quickly rushed to your car and made your way to your apartment which - for maximum efficiency - was only a five minute drive away from the Wayne Ent. Tower, where you quickly rushed into the hidden side room to change into your gear. As you checked the time you realized that you still had a good five minutes before you had to check in with your father and you had to very quickly decide between your two options: quickly eat something or make and drink another coffee. You decided for the second one, but as you made your way to the kitchen counter where your coffee machine stood you caught a glimpse of the unopened stack of mail on the kitchen island and with a sigh decided to just get that over with, effectively ignoring both your previous options. The letters were rather quickly sorted through and before you knew you were standing on a nearby ceiling and activated your comm. “Y/H/N reporting from area 7.4 in central Gotham.” “Good evening Y/H/N, it’s Oracle, I’ll be your voice in the background tonight,” Barbara’s voice echoed through your ears and after exchanging the usual greetings she quickly gave you the location of a robbery in progress. With quick, experienced movements you jumped over the roofs until you stood on the ceiling of a jewelry which was - luckily for you - made out of glass. There was only a single man in the darkness of the store below you, using a flashlight to clean out the display cases, and he wasn’t especially silent so you used the noise to your advantage as you opened one of the few ceiling windows that were openable and let yourself glide down with a hook. “I think you have to pay for that,” you interrupted the robber who quickly turned around, his face hidden by a black, knitted hat with badly cut out holes for the eyes. He was definitely no professional. The man - obviously panicked - got out a gun with shaky hands and pointed it at you, but before he could even think of shooting you had thrown a batarang and the piece of weaponry landed on the floor too far from him that he could reach it before you. Seemingly not seeing another option the man started charging at you and you just sighed and said: “I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” but by the end of the sentence his fist tried to make contact with your masked face, but you caught his hand expertly and used the momentum to twist it behind his back, grabbing the other one too and with quick movements you had used a pair of handcuffs that you had in your bat-belt™ to chain him to one of the displays before letting him go. “If you’ll excuse me for a second,” you mumbled before walking a few feet away where you told Barbara to contact the police and tell him they didn’t need to hurry. You had just finished the conversation and muted your mic again when the same dizziness as earlier in the office hit you but this time tenfold. It was like the ground was swaying below you and you had to take ahole of a countertop so that you didn’t fall. “Hey, are you okay, you look kinda sick,” the robber asked in an actual concerned voice, but you didn’t answer, instead you quickly used the hook you had attached earlier to let yourself swing out of the window again. “Y/H/N?” Barbara contacted you and you tried your best to swallow down the weakness in your muscles that suddenly seemed to grow over you. “Yeah?” “Bats asks you to meet him on the roof of the Jefferson building down in third.” “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”

You gave yourself another few seconds to collect yourself before you did as you were told and made your way over to the roof of the builduing Babs’ had told you to go to, the dark silhouette of your father’s persona already expecting you there. Like you had done so often before, you started to run towards the edge of the building next to it - the one you were currently on - and made yourself ready to jump, only for your muscles to suddenly give up on you and the only thing you felt next was the rushing of air as you were falling and then the sudden stop and pain in your wrist as something caught you. Bruce quickly pulled you up and even with the cowl you could see the concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice worried which definitely sounded uncanny in connection with what he was wearing. “Uhm yeah, my legs just kind of gave up on me there,” you tried to wave it off with a chuckle, not wanting him to see that you were frightened to your core. “Y/H/N?” he asked again in that voice he had always used when you tried to sneak out at night and lied when he had caught you. He hadn’t used that voice in so long. “I’m serious Batman, everything is okay, it’s no big deal,” you huffed - now defensive - and stood up with your arms crossed in front of your chest. “It is when you suddenly fall from a roof. What would have been if I hadn’t been there to catch you?” he asked, now slight anger edging through the worry, but you couldn’t blame him. “I’m sorry, okay, it won’t happen again,” you sighed and hoped he would just let it go, especially considering that the dizziness started to return. Along with it came the heaviness of your eyelids that you had gotten used to that somehow now seemed to actively pull you down. You raised your hand to rub your eyes - hoping it would put some more live back into you - but even that slight movement seemed to be too much as the world started swaying again and you felt gravity getting the best of you. Something black started moving in front of you and you weren’t quite sure if you were falling unconscious or if it was Bruce who came towards you to catch your falling form, but it turned out to be latter when you found yourself being lowered to the ground and propped against the end of one of the vantilator shafts of the building with Bruce kneeling beside you. “You’re definitely not okay,” he muttered as he held your face in his hands to get you to look at him. “I’m just a little bit tired is all,” you tried to argue, but your voice was weak and almost started lulling. “When was the last time you slept? Or ate?” You shut your eyes in concentration as you tried to remember. “Wait I know the answer to that one,” you muttered but almost fell asleep, only being kept away when your head started falling downwards, “What did you ask again?” “When was the last time you slept an entire night?” he tried again, this time more specific. “What day is it today?” “Friday.” “Then I think it was Monday,” you whispered since suddenly the loud noise of your voice seemed to pierce your skull apart. “You were on Patrol from nine to two a.m. on Monday,” Bruce disagreed and you almost chuckled. “Yes, and after I went to bed and got a full five hours. That’s pretty good isn’t it,” you couldn’t help but smile almost proudly, your mind starting to fog up with bubblegum coloured smoke that made it impossible to think straight. “And when did you last eat?” Bruce sighed, worry and recognition crossed his face. He himself must have known too well what you were going through. You averted your eyes and looked down at your lap where you played with your hands like an embarrassed child. “Also Monday,” you mumbled and Bruce immediately shook his head. “That’s not okay, you have to take care of yourself Y/H/N, you’re no good for anyone when you don’t.” You weren’t sure if it was only tired paranoia that made you see only disappointment on your fathers face - that ignored all the worry - but suddenly the prospect of having disappointed him, the one thing that you were trying to avoid ever since you could remember, made tears well up in your eyes and your lip quiver, “‘M sorry,” you could just press out before the tears started rolling. Bruce immediately regretted his tone of voice, but he knew nothing he would say now would be remembered by you so he just pulled you up from the roof and started carrying your already passing out form towards the batmobil. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow…”

The feeling of waking up rested was foreign to you, especially since it wasn’t one of your four separate alarms that woke you, and caused you to immediately sit up, only to be pulled back into the mattress. Your eyes flew open and explored your surroundings. The chandelier above you, with rainbow-coloured glass-pendants and the dark blue dealing with the painted stars immediately calmed you again. This room was your childhood bedroom which meant that you were in the manor, which in turn meant that you were safe. For a moment the calm was pretty nice, but then you remembered your case of immovability and looked down at where your wrists came out from under the cover. They were bound by silky bands and a move of your feet told you that the same was the case for them. While you were contemplating ways to get out of the unbelievably good, but still comfortable restraints, the door started to open and you turned as well as you could towards where you smallest (figuratively and literally) brother entered. “Your awake?” he asked in his usual stern voice, but you had known him for long enough to recognize the hidden worry. “Yeah, mind telling me why I’m strapped to my bed?” “Forced self-care,” he stated matter-of-factly and you couldn't help but narrow your eyes. “What?” “You fainted on Patrol, father says you haven’t eaten or slept since last Monday so we took measures to make sure you wouldn’t kill yourself with how careless you are.” You wanted to reply with something snarky, but you were well aware that what he said was probably right. “I’m sorry okay, I just had a lot on my plate, but you’re right and I feel a lot better now that I had some sleep, so you can let me go again,” you tried to smooth your way out of there, but you had the slight suspicion that it was hopeless. “I respect your try but you will not be let go until father is certain that you’re better.”

“But I am better!” you whined and tried yet again to wiggle yourself out of the restraints. Damian just raised his eyebrows unimpressed. He walked over to a chair that was standing beside your bed and as you followed him with your eyes you noticed the shutted curtains and the small gap of light between them. “What time is it anyways?” you sighed and felt surprise when you had to hold back a yawn. “It’s about 8 a.m.” Your eyes widened. That meant you had enough time to get to the office! “Please Dami, you gotta let me go, I have to get to the board meeting,” you begged, starting to wiggle more and more, but to no avail. “But Ukthi, you-” “No you don’t understand! This is my first time alone, I can’t let dad down, I have to be able to pull through with this if I ever want to make it as the next C.E.O. Dad wasn’t allowed a break either.” “Ukthi-” “Damian please, please, I promise I’ll come back right after and take care of myself, but I have to do this if I-” “Ukthi! The board meeting was yesterday. You slept for over 24 hours!” Damian shouted to get you to stop interrupting him and when you realized the weight of his words you sunk back down into the pillow. “What? But I was supposed to…” “Father just postponed it, he didn’t leave room to argue, he also gave you the week off from patrol and work.” If your hands weren’t bound you’d probably sunken your face into them in shame. You tried to hold tears back as you looked away from Damian. “Y/N?” he asked and came closer. “I’m sorry, It’s just- how am I supposed to handle being the C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprise if I can’t even handle little things like board meetings? How am I supposed to take after dad?” “Y/N, you keep on saying how father managed to lead the business on his own, and how you should be able too, but you’re not alone. You’re not supposed to be either. You have all of us by your side for a reason and we won’t leave you alone with this. We’re here for you and you shouldn’t be ashamed to ask for help. We’re family, we love you and we want to support you with all we can. “For now, how about you rest a little bit more and then I’ll let you out of bed to get a proper meal, Alfred made your favorite. After that I’m afraid Father will want to have a word with you.” “Oh shucks….”

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath of being kidnapped

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and is based on this and this post

Summary: Spencer’s daughter was kidnapped. What does the aftermath look like?

Warnings: Angst, but it’s also real fluffy

Wourdcount: 1.4k

✨Masterlist✨ ___________________________________ Spencer doesn’t let anyone in his life easily. His circle of close people is carefully chosen and picked. It’s for his own safety. After all, the young agent doesn’t want to get hurt by anyone again.

But ever since he held his daughter for the first time, the tiny little human being that from now on depends on him for the rest of his life, he is willing to get hurt by her, if that means she is happy. In this moment he decided that her happiness means everything to him. It’s going to be his first priority to keep her content.

He still tries to keep that promise to himself, even after over three years (to be exact 3 years, 4 months and 8 hours). That’s one reason why the last 8 hours were the worst of his life and believe me when I say that Spencer has sadly a great pool of bad times he can choose from.

Since (Y/N) went missing, all he can do is stare into the air, thinking about all the good memories he has with her. Her first word (“dada” of course), her first steps, reading every night to her either in person or over the phone.

But right now his little baby isn’t here and he isn’t able to help her. His brain is no use and the young father isn’t able to get out of the loop inside his mind.

Spencer is scared. Scared to never be able to hold (Y/N), his lifeline. Scared that the last word she heard from him is a promise he couldn’t keep, “Daddy is going to tuck you in tonight, I promise Sweetheart” instead of “I love you, Sweetheart”. Scared that she is scared at the moment. Scared that she is in pain.

There are so many things Reid is afraid of, one thing worse than the other. Having the dreading 24 hour clock above his head and all the child abduction statistics on his mind don’t help either.

Since he is captured by his own thoughts, Spencer doesn’t notice the team gearing up. Even the sudden quiet doesn’t alarm him. He is too lost in his mind to be able to register anything from his environment. Not until a small scream he is more than familiar with reaches his ears.

“DADDY!”

(Y/N) wiggles out of Hotch’s grip, leaving Spencer nearly with a heart attack as she is close to falling down. When she wrestles herself out of the Unit Chief’s grasp, she runs to her father as fast as her little legs can without tripping. The father crouches down and they clash together.

“I missed you, Daddy. I was so scwared. I- the woman was so mean and creepy. Please, never leave me again”, she cries into his chest, sobs racking her body. Spencer draws soothing circles on his daughter’s back while shifting so he sits with his legs crossed down on the floor and (Y/N) on his lap.

“I will never leave you again, Sweetheart. I love you. God I love you so so much. And it’s all over. The bad woman won’t hurt you anymore. I’m here now”, he whispers into her ear. Together they rock forth and back. As she calms down, Spencer looks up at his team. They all watch the scene go down, the strings of their hearts pulling at the painful sight.

“She still needs to get checked out. (Y/N) refused to on scene, wanting to go to you as fast as possible. She nearly bit the paramedic.” Hotch looks at his agent, who clings to his daughter. “You got a feisty one there, Reid”, Morgan adds. Spencer nods and glances at his colleagues.

“Thank you guys for saving her. I-I don’t know what I w-would do-” “And you don’t have to. Take the next two weeks off, you are more needed at home than in the office.” Hotch cut him off, smiling a little to reassure the young man.

Spencer nods in thanks. “Sweetheart, are you ready to go to the doctor’s to see if you are hurt? Are you in pain?” (Y/N) shakes her head, but he isn’t sure to what it is the answer. “Ok, come on.” He gets up and hoists her up on his hip. The little girl whimpers and hides her face into her father’s neck.

“Um, I guess I wish you a goo-” “Spence go, she needs you.” “Ok, yes. Thank you JJ.” With that Spencer takes (Y/N) to the next metro stop, never letting go of her.

Luckily they don’t have to wait long in the emergency room at the hospital. Soon Spencer’s name is called and he finds himself with his child on his lap explaining to the pediatrician the situation.

“From what I see I conclude (Y/N) only has superficial wounds and bruises. Just make sure she takes it easy the next few days”, he explains. “A-are you sure? Don’t you want to look over her for a second time? Just to be safe I mean?” Spencer looks down at his daughter, who slowly drifts off.

“With all due respect, Doctor Reid, I’m sure. Your daughter is fine.” “No, you don’t understand. She was kidnapped for crying out loud, you need to check her out a second time, to be sure.” Shockingly to him, the agent can’t think of statistics to feed his statement. He just argues out of his feelings.

“Allright. I’ll look over her again.” The doctor sighs and does his job, knowing Reid will have his way anyway. Nevertheless he doesn’t find anything new, in addition to having a now grumpy toddler, who doesn’t want to be prodded at anymore.

Later that evening after a quick dinner and a bath for (Y/N), Spencer puts her in his bed. “I’ll have to go to the bathroom and then we get to cuddle, ok?” This is anything but ok for her. As soon as the father presents his idea she begins to cry. “I-I don’t want you to leave, D-daddy”, the girl hiccups. “Daddy has to use the toilet. I’ll be quick, I promise Sweetheart.” It takes him a while to calm her down, eventually he is allowed to go to the bathroom on his own.

He is quick to get back to (Y/N). As soon as he climbs into his bed, she crawls on his chest and snakes her hands around her father’s neck. “Pwease wead two me”, she demands drowsily. Before Spencer is even able to get past one page, the toddler is fast asleep. But Spencer still continues, just savoring the feeling of his daughter close to him.

It’s safe to say that the next two weeks consist of lots of cuddles, reading together and talking. Well as much as you can talk with a three year old about what happened.

Taglist:

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

x child!reader:

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #x child!reader #x daughter!reader

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi, I love your blog so much! I recently got ankle lateral ligament reconstruction done, and as an athlete, it sucks so bad. I watched my basketball team play yesterday, and it felt really horrible to watch them lose by one point in overtime when I know I would have made a difference if I were on the court... I know you have lots of asks and prompts, but if you have the time and want to, could you possibly hurt me more than I’m already hurting with some angsty ankle injury stuff😩 like maybe Cap watching the Lions lose without him.

Thank you for all the awesome fics you write! Your blog is amazing!

Anon, this ask really struck a chord with me and I wanted to do it justice as best I could--going through a sports injury like that is the worst feeling in the world, and watching your teammates play without you just adds salt to the wound. Sending all the love and healing vibes your way, okay? Please keep me updated on how you're feeling if you feel comfortable <3

Combined with an ask for pre-Coops and Sirius' photo of Remus! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for canonical injury and mentioned scars (Remus)

Sirius felt a nudge at his arm and his irritation flared, but he did not take his eyes off the game. “Fucking hell,” he muttered as James missed yet another blatant pass. There’s three.

The next nudge was more insistent.

“What?” he snapped, sparing half a glance to his left and feeling his stomach swoop.

Remus raised his eyebrows and held the mouthguard out further. “Either put this in or unclench your jaw.”

You’re not my mother, Sirius almost snarked back, just to be even more of an asshole. He was cold from being at the rink without his gear, severely pissed off by the general bullshit happening on the ice, and the itch in the boot locked around his stupid fucked-up ankle was slowly driving him mad.

Remus offered the mouthguard again, and Sirius’ temper cooled by a few degrees at the soft encouragement on his face. Pretty, his brain supplied. He swallowed hard around his sudden dry mouth and shoved the plastic between his teeth, beating back the unruly emotions with a mental baseball bat. Nope. Not tonight. Focus on being angry.

Logan got distracted, and Finn paid the price as an enforcer slammed him against the boards; he bounced back immediately, but Sirius ground the mouthguard so hard it squeaked. “Tabarnak—”

“Come with me for a sec,” Remus said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the angry shouts of Lions fans.

Sirius shook his head. What he wouldn’t give to be in the heart of the fight, letting off some of the steam that had been building with no outlet for weeks. “Game’s not over.”

Remus pressed his lips together, but said nothing; Sirius’ throat constricted as he looked at the scoreboard. There may have been three full minutes left on the clock, but the Lions had already lost—unless they pulled a miracle out of their asses, this game would be a stain on their record. Or if they just let me play.

Sirius sighed through his nose. The urge had been growing stronger the longer he stayed cooped up and restless, banging at the walls of his brain and bringing headache after headache.

“Cap.” The hand on the back of his bicep was surprisingly gentle and he closed his eyes as Remus gave him a light tug. “Come on. We can at least be productive instead of sitting here and stewing.”

He smells nice. How does he always smell so nice? Sirius stood and followed Remus down the tunnel, not even bothering to force smiles for the people pounding on the glass partitions. Don’t focus on the game.

Focus on his shoulders, something close to his heart suggested. You like his shoulders.

He scrunched his nose up at the thought—if he dwelled on the smooth, strong curve of Remus’ upper back for any longer, he would start remembering the one time he saw them bare, covered in sweat with scars that shone like moonlight and—

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, snapping him back to reality. Sirius jumped and concern flickered over the golden planes of his face. “You’re twitchy tonight.”

“Just…” He made a vague, aborted motion toward the ice before continuing toward the PT room, though he did not miss the worried look Remus shot him. Fantastic, now I look like a dick and an idiot.

“What’s going on, Sirius?” The door clicked closed behind them and Remus leaned against it with his arms crossed loosely as Sirius limped over to the table and sat down, pulling the mouthguard out. He stared at the floor and the hunk of plastic—don’t think about how nice his voice sounds around your name. Don’t.

He shook his head; through the door, the sounds of the game were faint. “They’re better than this.”

“Yep.”

“They’re all going to be angry tomorrow, which makes them sloppy.”

“Probably.”

“Coach will be upset.”

“No question.”

“It’s the Badgers.”

Remus made a face. “I know, right?”

“They’re a good team, but—” He tightened his jaw again and looked away.

“But we’re better,” Remus finished for him.

“Yeah.” Silence fell between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Being quiet around Remus was never uncomfortable, and Sirius was pathetically grateful for every scrap of it he could get. “I—the game would be different if I was out there.”

“Would it?”

“It would.” He had been going over every mistake for two and a half hours, placing himself in like a chess piece to stop the missed passes, fumbled pucks, and thoughtless plays. “They need me with them.”

The paper crinkled as Remus sat down next to him, and every one of Sirius’ senses went on high alert. “They need to you get better,” he said simply, those caramel-apple eyes making Sirius’ knees go weak. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Of course,” he scoffed.

“Good.” There was no defensiveness or indignation in Remus’ voice—guilt snapped, a firecracker behind his teeth.

“Sorry.”

Remus smiled wryly. “When you’re around injured hockey players all day long, you get used to a little bit of bitchiness.”

“I’m not bitchy!” Sirius spluttered. The poorly-concealed amusement on Remus’ face made mortification heat his cheeks. “I’m not!”

“Uh-huh.” The note of smug disbelief should not have been as attractive as it was. “Alright, lay down.”

Sirius swore he heard a few crackling noises as his brain short-circuited. “Quoi?”

“I’m not kneeling on freezing linoleum to check out your ankle, Cinderella,” Remus snorted. “Now get a wiggle on.”

“You have the strangest sayings,” he said as he laid back and stretched his leg out, bewildered and yet somehow relieved.

“And you—” Remus pulled the top buckle free. “—have no appreciation for the great American north.”

“I can take it off,” Sirius mumbled, feeling redness rise once again.

He cocked an eyebrow. “The boot? I might not be a muscle-bound athlete, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a couple strips of Velcro.”

“No, it’s—doesn’t touching people’s feet freak you out? Like, the sweat and everything?”

“If it did, I’d have to find another profession, because I’m damp all the time from you fuckers and you all seem to have a habit of breaking things below the knee. Bend.”

Sirius complied, drawing his knee toward his chest. His bare foot looked weird in the bright lights, pale and still swollen, but Remus was as golden as ever. You can watch from afar, he conceded when the cute little furrow appeared on Remus’ forehead while he felt around the bone. Just for a little while. “Your hands are warm,” he said before he could stop himself.

Remus glanced up, and his small smile caused a flood of butterflies in Sirius’ stomach. “Thanks. They’re usually pretty cold, so I’m glad I’m not accidentally giving you foot hypothermia.”

“Is that real?”

“No,” Remus laughed. Sirius wished he could keep that sound forever. “How’s that feel?”

“Uh, fine.” He blinked a couple times to come back to himself as Remus put light pressure on the sole of his foot. “Still fine.”

“You’re a lot more flexible than before. Things are healing well.”

A loud buzzer went off outside—Sirius closed his eyes as disappointment and frustration fired up once more. The crowd wasn’t cheering. The windows weren’t shaking. He didn’t even want to look at the TV to check the score. I should be out there, he thought for the umpteenth time. I’m letting them down.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said quietly as he worked through a few more exercises.

“Not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

Sirius wanted to believe him. “I’m the captain.”

“And you’re being responsible by doing this with me so you can heal faster.” People rushed past the door outside, but the PT room remained peaceful. Sirius stared at the plain ceiling and wished for a miracle. “They miss you.”

“Y’know, that’s not exactly making me feel better.”

“Sorry.” They lapsed back into silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Sirius chewed the inside of his lip for a solid two minutes, following Remus’ simple instructions without looking at him. He should have been out there with them, ankle be damned. It was basically healed anyway; they were just tying up loose ends, and maybe Remus needed to be a little less careful. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to ask a different question.”

“I’m just saying, it feels fine and—”

“Time’s up.” Remus let go of his foot and Sirius only spared a moment to mourn the loss of his comforting touch before he caught the stormy, mulish stubbornness that took the place of Remus’ concentration. “Sit.”

“I am.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Sirius dragged himself upright with a huff. Arguing with Remus Lupin was about as useful as arguing with a brick wall, and that was coming from someone who won the ‘Most Stubborn’ superlative at their last end-of-year party. “First of all, ankles are annoying and the soft tissue will still be damaged even if the bone is healed. Second, it’s my job to fix you up so your boys stop whining to me about healing you faster. And third, I’m not giving up on you.”

Sirius paused for a long moment. “What?”

“I’m not giving up,” Remus repeated. His jaw set and he made direct eye contact. “I would love nothing more than to kick Snape in the kneecaps and let you go out there as soon as you can stand on your own, but that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to make sure you’re ready to kick ass and take names no matter what that little shit was trying to do. So don’t you dare sit there and try to chicken out at the finish line, because I know you want this even more than I do.”

In his chest, Sirius heart was hammering like he had just run five miles. I’m not giving up on you. Sirius had never wanted to kiss him more. “Thank you.”

Remus softened with a slow breath. “We’re in this together, Sirius. You and me.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s get to work. Next time you play the Badgers, make ‘em regret this game.”

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

Sirius walked back toward the locker room feeling rather nauseous. The whole team leaked their bad moods into the air—Arthur had barely looked at them before sending them home with a quiet “we’ll talk more tomorrow”, the equivalent of an arrow through Sirius’ heart. I need a pick-me-up, he thought as the rest of the guys trooped out in a melancholy raincloud. He fist-bumped each of them, per tradition, but their responses were weak at best.

Ice cream sounded good. Maybe a milkshake. Oh, who was he kidding, he needed a solid hug and something other than ice to look at. Not for the first time, he contemplated getting a dog, just so the house wouldn’t be empty and dark when he returned.

Laughter rang out ahead and Sirius inhaled sharply, letting the sound roll over him. “I’m not kidding!” Moody chuckled.

“Bullshit,” Remus countered, still snickering. “There is no way—”

“I’ve been around here longer than you’ve been alive, kid.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Remus groaned, though Sirius could hear the smile in his voice even from around the corner. “You only bring it up every goddamn day.”

“Brat.”

Sirius entered the room just in time to see Remus playfully knock the side of his foot against Moody’s; both were grinning. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

Moody nodded to him. “Night, twelve.”

“A demain,” Sirius called, offering a slight smile as his eyes lingered on Remus. He was leaning back against the wall with stick tape in his hands—his hands, which never failed to make Sirius throw caution to the wind—and raised it in farewell. “See you, Loops. Thanks again.”

“No problem, Cap.”

He grabbed his duffel off the floor and slid his keys, wallet, and phone into his pockets as Moody and Remus resumed their conversation. He wondered how long they usually stuck around, and if they would oppose him staying—he wouldn’t interrupt, but being around people who weren’t going through the five stages of grief already felt nice.

An idea struck as Remus’ laugh raised goosebumps on his arms once again. With a careful glance over his shoulder, he slipped his phone out and snapped a picture before hurrying off toward his car. His breaths were shallow; that was such a creepy move, and surely one of them noticed—

No voices chased him. Nobody gave him strange looks. He waited until he was safely in the front seat of the car before unlocking his phone, and all the air in his lungs left in a rush.

The photo was perfect. It caught the lopsided tilt to Remus’ mouth, his slender-but-strong fingers, his long legs, the scrunch of his nose mid-laugh. Everything Sirius never let himself look at for long. He didn’t have much space left among the collection of paper memories on his dresser, but maybe if he put it in the back where nobody would see it unless they knew where to look…

He turned the car on. Later. He would print it out and deal with the taut rubber-band-ball of feelings later. Until then, he could settle for the imprint of Remus’ warmth taking away the pain in his ankle and the determination on his face as he promised to bring Sirius back from the personal hell he was living in. You and me, he had said, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to believe it.

#fanfic #my fic #sirius black #remus lupin #alastor moody #james potter #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #sweater weather #coops #injury #pre-coops #lumosinlove

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himbovillain-anon · 2 years

Text

Hope you don't mind anon but I'm tagging @thatdepressedgorl cause we talk about this prompt so much 😩

Reuniting after a dangerous mission w/ Javelin

The clock was getting into the early am, you had no idea where gunter was or where he could've been, but you were starting to get worried

You were aimlessly clicking on the remote, trying to figure out something to watch in order to take your mind off the situation, then you heard the door

It was gunter, although something seemed sort of off about him, it was normal for him to be covered in blood and having a giant bag of cash in hand, but he seemed sort of dazed out a bit

Hurrying on over to him, you slung his arm over your shoulder as you helped him over to the couch, telling him to sit upright and not fucking die on you

You noticed that his hand was placed onto the right side of his stomach, he must’ve faced a major injury there

Zipping down the upper half of his gear, you found a rather severe stab wound, now that had to hurt

Grabbing a towel and the first aid kit, you checked the wound to see if there was any infection or anything stuck in the wound, since you’ve been dating gunter for years, you’ve gotten used to having to help dress his wounds

You held the towel to the wound for a few seconds until he gave you the green light to continue

The wound looked like it could be stitched up without causing further issue, so you grabbed the first aid and got to it

You managed to stitch him up and wrap a bandage around his stomach without anything happening to gunter, so you used another towel to wipe the majority of blood off of him and you excused yourself to grab him some comfier clothes

He managed to dress himself with little issue, although he did joke about giving you a strip tease

You rolled your eyes, he always had to be make you flustered didn’t he? It’s not like it mattered, you decided to join him on the couch for the night

It seemed like he was asleep due to how quiet his breathing was, you were so glad that he was okay, especially after everything that happened

As soon as you fell asleep, gunter woke up and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, thanking your for helping him

#the suicide squad #the suicide squad x reader #javelin x reader #javelin #gunter braun #my writing #gender neutral reader #anon

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years

Text

Ransom ✥JJ Maybank✥

find my complete masterlist here!!

request? Yes!! thank you so much for the request anon! I love the angst material. warnings - swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of drowning tagging - @simonsbluee, @parkerpetertingle, @diverrdown, @ponyboys-sunsets, @outerbanksbro, synopsis - John B’s sister is taken by the square groupers. In exchange for her life, they ask for the compass and a heavy ransom price. It’s a race of time as the Pogues, with the help of Sheriff Peterkin, journey into the marsh to save her life before the clock runs out. a/n - This is like the millionth Reader!Routledge fic I’ve written and I will continue to make a million more. I think the only Pogue I haven’t done a sibling!reader for is Pope and honestly, that needs to change. anyway, thank you anon for this request! I hope I do your vision justice. Disclaimer: I have no real idea how CPR works outside of what I’ve seen on TV, so if this is inaccurate, please take that up with the creators of Lost, thank you. I love you all!!

***

“Okay, guys, where the fuck is my sister?”

“Calm down, JB, I’m sure she’s fine,” Pope said, brushing chicken fodder out of his hair. “We, on the other hand-”

“We’re fine,” snapped Kie, the last to crawl out of the chicken coop. “I’m worried about y/n, too.”

“We just barely escaped the square groupers and you’re already stressing about something else?” JJ shook his hands. The remainder of the chicken feathers flitted carefully back down to the ground. “Wherever y/n is, I’m sure she’s having a better time than us.”

“No, JJ.” Kie wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Didn’t you hear those guys talking about her?”

“What?” John B whirled around toward his friend, who swallowed a thick lump in her throat.

“I thought I heard those goons say something like ‘we already have the girl’, or something like that.” Shivers ran up Kie’s spine. Just thinking about they might have done to her friend made Kie sick to her stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” John B asked, his eyes going wide and his voice rising an octave.

“Well, I didn’t really have much of a choice, did I?” Kie said and narrowed her eyes at him. “There wasn’t really time to bring it up until now.”

Instead of responding to her, John B growled and turned back toward the house in a hurry.

“John B, wait up!” Kie cried, following after him.

“Do they really think she’s in danger?” Pope asked. There was an obvious dosage of fear in his voice. JJ shrugged, but behind his eyes there was a glimmer of worry. He knew y/n could handle herself, she always had, but he knew guys like the square groupers, knew what they wanted and what they would do if they didn’t get it.

So, he tried not to think about it.

By the time they made it to the house, John B was frantic. Kie stood rooted in the ground, as she always was, reaching out to him as he rushed by her time and time again.

“Buddy,” JJ said after a few minutes of this. He stepped forward and put his hands on John B’s chest. “Relax. You’re not going to find her here. I’m sure she just found a hot dude and got carried away-”

John B shoved his friend away from him, eyes ablaze with rage. It wasn’t really rage that made him act like this, it was fear. Fear of losing his sister, the only family he had left.

“Hey, we’ll find her,” Pope reassured his friend once JJ and steadied himself.

While this had been happening, Kie had wandered off. She searched the rooms, hoping that y/n would pop up out from nowhere. Kie wanted to think the best, that maybe she had just gotten caught up with a boy somewhere, but with every second that her friend was not at the Chateau, an even bigger pit carved into her stomach.

She walked back into Big John’s office. Just 20 minutes ago, she and the boys were hiding in here, thinking they had discovered some new and riveting information. Now, Kie was searching for something, anything, to tell her what had happened to her best friend.

Closing her eyes, Kie tried to remember what it was she had heard the men saying.

“They’re not here,” one man said.

“Don’t matter,” the other replied. “Routledge kept his stuff here. That’s all we need. ‘Sides, if there’s anything we’re missing, we already have the girl.”

Kie snapped her eyes open. She had heard right. And now she was convinced more than ever that those square groupers, the ones that had just driven away from the Chateau, had taken her best friend. With her heart pounded painfully against the inside of her chest, Kie caught sight of a chicken scratch note pinned to the wall by a knife.

That hadn’t been there before.

“Hey, guys!” Kie called, never once taking her eyes off of the note on the wall. She didn’t have the strength to look at it herself. It didn’t take long for John B, JJ, and Pope to come running in to the office. They didn’t have to ask what she had called them for when they looked into the room.

“Oh god,” John B breathed, running a hand through his hair. But he seemed just as frozen where he was as Kie. It was Pope who took the first step forward. His hands shook a little by his sides as he crossed the room. He yanked the knife out of the wall and dropped it against the table behind him without looking at it.

Kie, John B, and JJ watched, breathless, as Pope’s eyes scanned the words once, twice, three times before he looked up at them.

“What is it?” JJ asked, his impatience getting the better of him after Pope’s extended silence. Pope looked back down at the letter one last time.

“It’s a ransom note.” He turned it around to face them. “For your sister.”

***

“No, you don’t understand I need to talk to Sheriff Peterkin.”

“John, she’s very busy right now.” Shoupe put a hand against John B’s shoulder, trying to keep him from approaching the Sheriff’s office. John B tried to push past him, the ransom note in his hand. Before he could protest again, JJ pushed open the door behind them and snatched the note out of John B’s hand.

Shoupe couldn’t stop him before he marched right up to Sheriff Peterkin’s office. JJ didn’t even knock. John B took advantage of Shoupe’s moment of distraction to brush past him and follow after his friend.

“Sheriff,” JJ said, holding the note up. “We’ve got a problem.”

The woman looked at the two, breathless boys with an unconcerned look on her face.

“Clearly.”

“It’s my sister,” John B said, his voice hitching. “She’s been taken.”

Peterkin’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Taken?” JJ shoved the note into her direction.

“Sheriff!” Shoupe stepped into the office just as Peterkin took the note from JJ’s hand, her eyes already reading the ransom. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. They-”

Peterkin’s hand flew up into the air, cutting off Shoupe’s sentence. He paled and quieted down. JJ and John B watched Peterkin’s face shift from mild concern to all out worry.

“What have you boys gotten that girl into?” She asked, her voice shaking as she looked back up at them. John B’s mouth ran dry. If Peterkin was worried, this was real. His sister had been taken and there was only one way to get her back.

“Shoupe, out,” Peterkin ordered with a flick of her hand. Shoupe nodded his head and ducked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. With a careful breath, Peterkin set the ransom note down and laced her fingers together. “So, these men have y/n and they want $15,000 and a...compass?”

“I don’t have that kind of money, Sheriff.” John B’s hands trembled. If he didn’t find a way to come up with that money, his sister was dead.

“You’re not worried about this compass?”

“I’ve got that covered.” John B’s voice was tight. “It’s the money I’m worried about. I have $16 to my name and I don’t get paid until next week. She’ll be dead by then and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“I’ve got like-” JJ shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled out a wad of ones. “7 dollars and 79 cents.”

Peterkin sighed, pressing her chin to her interlocked fingers. The two boys watched her think, the gears spinning and turning in her mind. She opened her eyes.

“I can help you get your sister back,” Peterkin said.

“Damn right you can,” JJ snapped, shoving the money back into. “You’re a goddamn cop, that’s your job!”

A cold glare from Peterkin shut him up quickly.

“I’ll get you your sister back without the money, but in return, you hand over that compass,” Peterkin said.

“I’m not bartering for my sister’s life,” John B said, glaring. “Not with those square groupers. Not with you. She’s worth more than that.”

“More than a rusty compass? I should hope so.”

John B clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists. JJ glanced at him.

“Dude,” he whispered to his friend. “It’s the easiest fucking choice. That goddamn compass or your sister.”

John B didn’t take another second to pull the thing out of his pocket and toss it toward Peterkin.

“Now, help me get my sister back.”

***

It only took a little bit of haggling to get Peterkin to let JJ, Pope, and Kie to come with them to the drop point in the marsh. They took the HMS Pogue. It was a little snug for all five of them, but it didn’t matter much.

John B’s heart refused to beat in his chest as they barreled through the marsh. Kie’s legs were shaking and Pope put a reassuring hand on her knee.

“If I had just told you guys when they were in the house-”

“No, Kie,” Pope whispered to her. “There was nothing we could have done.”

“We’ll get her back,” JJ said, though none of them were sure who he was really talking to or if he was trying to convince himself it was true. No one said anything after that.

Peterkin hadn’t told them her plan. They were going in dark. John B had his own plan; pray that Peterkin shot the square groupers dead so that he could swoop in and grab his sister.

JJ’s plan was to shoot them himself.

It didn’t take long for a stalled boat to come into sight. John B’s heart came alive, leaping into his throat.

No one breathed on the Pogue as they neared the square groupers. At first, they only saw the two men standing there, dressed head to toe in black. For a moment, they couldn’t see a third person on the boat.

“Where is she?” John B whispered to Peterkin as they neared. The woman didn’t dare speak. She simply shook her head. It wasn’t until they pulled up right beside the boat that they finally saw you.

You were sitting on the floor of the boat, still wearing the bikini top and shorts that you had been wearing early that day, but your button up had been discarded somewhere along the way. Your lip was busted and there were bruises on your arms. One eye was starting to swell and your hands were tied behind your back.

Through it all, there was a smile on your face as you saw your friends pull up in their boat.

“Hi,” you said. “Took you long enough.”

“You motherfu-” John B lunged forward, his eyes fixated on you and your bruises. JJ grabbed John B’s arm to keep him from lunging into the other boat and Pope stood, holding his friend around the waist.

Both square groupers pulled out their guns, pointing them at Peterkin.

“We said no cops,” one of the groupers said, glaring at Peterkin.

“Actually, no you didn’t,” Kie piped up, standing and putting a hand on John B’s shoulder without taking her eyes off of you. You flashed her a small smile, trying to assure her that you were okay.

“I told you to put that on the note,” one grouper said to another. The shorter one shrugged.

“Hey, fuckers,” you said, slouching down so you could tap your foot against the shorter grouper’s ankle. “Can we get on with the whole handing over of the prisoner thing? I’m starting to lose feeling in my hands.”

You wiggled your fingers behind your back, even if no one else could see it.

“Good to see they didn’t beat the smartass outta you,” JJ said from the Pogue. You flashed him a toothy grin, almost forgetting that your teeth were covered in blood.

“I think my smartass is, like, in my bones. No way these two idiots could beat that out of me,” you said, nodding your head at the square groupers.

“Why did we have to grab the annoying one?” the taller grouper grumbled. “Just give us the money and the compass and we’ll be done with this.”

“No money,” Peterkin said. “No compass. You give us the girl and I don’t charge you for kidnapping.”

“What?” Kie almost shrieked. “You’re gonna let them get away with this?”

Peterkin put up her hand, but didn’t even turned to look at the girl.

“That ain’t gonna fly with us lady cop. No compass, no money, no girl.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You think anyone on this goddamn island has $15,000 to spare?” You asked. “You should just leave while your ahead. Drop me off, skedaddle-”

“Will you just shut up?” The shorter grouper spun around and gave your face a hard backhand.

“Don’t touch her!” Both John B and JJ started toward the other boat. It took Peterkin, Kie, and Pope to hold them both back.

“Jeez,” you groaned, shifting your jaw against the pain that bloomed on your face. “You hit like a bitch.”

“We’re not giving you any money,” Peterkin said again, her hands still on John B’s shoulders to keep him back. “And we don’t have whatever compass you’re looking for. So, I’m going to ask you one last time, give us the girl and make your get away or I put you in the grave here and now.”

“Damn, Peterkin,” you said with a grin to cover how badly your body was shaking. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”

You felt your heart pound in your ears, mouth going dry as you waited for an answer. You liked to pretend you weren’t absolutely terrified every single second, but at the prospect of being so close to freedom made that fear start surface.

The two groupers glanced at each other. Their plan, which was never very well thought out to begin with, was falling apart and they needed to come with another one quickly.

The taller grouper, clearly the smarter one, walked over to you and grabbed you by the hair. John B let out a strangled sound of protest, trying to break free from Pope’s strong grip. You met his eyes and gave him what you thought was a reassuring nod.

Kie had tears in her eyes as she stood in front of JJ, holding him back from getting any closer to the edge of the Pogue. He was breathing heavily, like he had just run an entire marathon before coming here. His gaze wasn’t fixed on you, but the grouper who was holding you by the neck.

“Using me as a human shield, huh?” You ground out through your teeth as he positioned you in front of him. You let out a quiet gasp as he cocked the gun and pressed it to the back of your head.

“No!” Kie cried, barely able to keep JJ back. You let your tear filled eyes close gently, ignoring the cool of the gun against your skin. This wasn’t the first time they had threatened you with the gun in the last few hours, but this felt the most real like this time, they might actually shoot you.

“Give us the compass or we’ll shoot her,” he said from behind you. You flinched, your jaw tightening and a rogue tear running down your cheek.

“Peterkin!” John B’s voice was desperate, breaking as he called out for the sheriff to do something.

“You killing that girl will accomplish nothing,” Peterkin said. She sounded completely calm. But you imagined it was much easier to be calm when the gun wasn’t pointed at her. “Let her go.”

Your body shook against your determination to stay completely still. Coming into this, you had hoped that your tough skin and smart mouth would be enough to get you out safely, but now you weren’t so sure about that. All you could do was pray that Peterkin knew what the hell she was doing.

Keeping your eyes closed, all you could do was listen. And there was almost dead silence. The waves lapped against the side of the two boats, which rocked and knocked together. The reeds rustled against each other, syncing with the chattering bugs like a symphony. A bird flew high above your heads, calling out to the sun and the clouds.

If these were the last things you were to ever hear, you didn’t think that would be so bad. With the sun beating down on your bare shoulders and the water beneath your feet, you couldn’t think of a better way to go out.

At least a bullet was fast.

But it appeared that your kidnappers had a better idea. Making you eat a bullet ran the risk of Peterkin giving them a taste of their own medicine. Even if she hadn’t taken her gun out yet, she was fast, faster than they were. They needed a distraction, and you fit the bill perfectly.

With a graceless shove, the taller grouper sent you flying over the side of the boat and straight into the water. You let out an involuntary cry, met with a mouth full of marsh water.

“No!” Pope cried out.

“y/n!” John B’s voice chorused.

That last thing you heard before you were completely submerged was the sound of one of the boats roaring to life and the pop of a gun going off.

The water was dark, even if the sun was still in the sky. You’d gone swimming in the marsh more times than you could count this summer alone. It never seemed this dark before. Never seemed so bottomless.

Lungs already filling with water, you kicked your feet and hoped to right yourself so you could start going upward. But the deeper you sank, the harder it was to tell which way was up.

It was colder in the water than you remembered. On a day as warm as this one, the water should be pleasant at least. But this water froze you to the core, tearing at your lungs and reaching for your heart. It was already impossible to breathe, but the cold made it all the more worse.

The reeds that had once seemed a safe distance away now reached out for you, grabbing at your legs, dragging you farther down even faster. Hair billowing out around you, panic started to settle in to your bones.

This was it, you were sure. Your legs stopped kicking, the tension in your muscles beginning to relax away. The darkness seemed a little less terrifying and a little more inviting, the water circling around you like a warm hug. Your lungs screamed their last and your body forced your mouth open.

Water takes up whatever available space it finds and your lungs were full of room. What was left of the light in your vision started to darken. You let the darkness and the cold and the exploding feeling in your chest envelope you.

But the world wasn’t done with you yet.

Just as quickly as you had sunk into the depths, you were rising steadily toward the surface.

You didn’t feel it when you broke free from the water, meeting the sun once again. You felt nothing at all.

“I’ve got her!” JJ struggled to keep himself above the water as he supported you from underneath. Somewhere off to the side, John B surfaced with a gasp for air.

“JJ!” Kie called out, half leaning out of the boat, reaching out with her hand. John B swam up to JJ, carrying part of your weight as they made their way back to the boat.

“Is she breathing?” John B asked, voice shaking. JJ just shook his head, water dripping from his soaked hair.

“Here, here!” Kie reached out even farther, almost slipping into the water, but Pope reached down and grabbed hold of one of her belt loops, pulling her back into the boat.

Once JJ and John B were close enough, Pope and Kie hauled your cold, limp body back into the boat. Peterkin left her position at the front of the boat, holstering her gun, and helped them lug you back to safety.

“Is she okay?” Kie asked, holding her arms close to her. Pope put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him, trying to keep her steady. Peterkin pressed two fingers against your neck, checking for a pulse. She let out a hiss of discontent, freaking Kie out even more. The girl pressed a closed fist to her mouth to keep her sobs muffled.

By the time both John B and JJ were back in the boat, Peterkin had the zip ties off of your wrists and was already starting mouth to mouth.

“What’s wrong?” John B asked, kneeling by your head. “Why isn’t she waking up?”

“She took in a lot of water, JB,” Pope said when Peterkin didn’t respond.

“How? She was barely down there for a minute!”

“A minute can do a lot of damage.”

John B looked back at you desperately.

“Come on, y/n.” He could barely make a sound over a whisper. “You can’t leave me. Come on, wake up.”

A silence fell between them once again. Even the reeds and the birds fell silent as they waited eagerly for you to return. There was only the sound of Peterkin’s heavy breaths and John B’s quiet whimpers.

“Come on, girl,” Peterkin said through her teeth, leaning back down toward you.

A minute later, she fell backwards, gasping for air. All four sets of eyes turned to her in desperation. She met each of their gazes, landing lastly on John B’s, and gave a short shake of her head. Kie let out a sob, her knees giving out beneath her. If Pope hadn’t been there to keep her steady, she probably would have fallen out of the boat. JJ was uncharacteristically silent.

A sob came from John B’s mouth as he leaned over you, cradling your head in his trembling hands.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “You can’t.”

“Nah, fuck this,” JJ said finally, stepping forward. He dropped to his knees beside you and John B sat up.

“I fucking ate your Twinkie that one time and lied to your face about it, y/n, you gonna let me get away with that, huh?” JJ asked, his eyes glazed over in tears. John B scowled and sat up straighter. JJ put his hands against your chest like Peterkin had been doing just moments before. “I convinced that one douche who asked you to the dance to ditch you so you would dance with me and not him, you really going to die and not beat the shit out me for that?”

“JJ,” Kie said quietly. Her heart was already shattered, she really didn’t need to watch her other best friend fall to pieces. JJ ignored her, leaning down to breathe air into your lungs.

“I put pickle juice in your beer when you weren’t looking the day after you told me you hated pickles,” JJ confessed, tears dropping off of his lashes as he pressed against your chest again.

“Maybank,” Peterkin said, placing a hand on JJ’s shoulder.

“Fuck off!” He swatted her back before returning his attention to you.

“I put itching powder in your bed when you brought a boy home once,” John B said, his hands still holding your head steady as JJ continued mouth to mouth. “You can’t let me get away with that.”

“We have a bet,” Pope piped in, stepping away from Kie and kneeling on the other side of your body. “A secret bet and you can’t let me win.”

“Kiara,” Peterkin turned toward the girl who stood with her arms around her stomach, hoping that one of them would see the reality of the situation. “This isn’t going to-”

“You’re my date to Midsummers this year.” Kie ignored Peterkin completely and joined her friends by your side. “You can’t ditch me and let me go alone.”

“Wake up, you stupid son of a bitch,” JJ growled as he started to pound against your chest with a closed fist. “I know you can hear me, so wake the fuck up!”

Your eyes snapped open. Coughing up water, Kie and Pope backed up to give you space to empty your lungs. Peterkin took a step back in shock as the two of them started to laugh and shout in glee.

JJ sat back with a look of shock on his face, confused as to how the hell that had worked. A grin grew on John B’s face as he pulled your hair back so you could continue hacking up water.

“I knew your dumb ass was too stubborn to die,” he said with a laugh, feeling tears continue to run down his face. Through a cough, you smiled over at him.

You turned to look at JJ, who sat there with a smile threatening his lips. Hand on your chest in hopes of keeping your racing heart inside your body, your own smiled grew.

“I can’t believe you ate my fucking Twinkie,” you said through ragged breaths. That smile on JJ’s face finally broke forth. Half a second later, he had his arms around you, pulling in to a tight hug. John B joined in instantly, Kie and Pope falling back to the ground to put there arms around you from the outside.

“Okay, guys,” you said with a laugh, patting JJ on the head. “Almost died here, need some room to breathe.”

They peeled off of you one by one. You caught Peterkin’s confused gaze just as JJ was pulling away from you and you flashed her a short smile and a nod. It was as a close to a thank you as you were ever going to give her. Straightening herself, she returned the nod.

“I thought you were dead,” John B whispered. You turned toward your brother and coughed again.

“Ah, you know. Pearly gates and flying, fat babies aren’t really my thing,” you said before ruffling your hands through his soaking hair. “’Sides, couldn’t really leave my baby brother alone on this godforsaken island.”

“No way you’re going heaven when you die,” JJ said, leaning up against the side of the boat.

“Says you, Twinkie Thief,” you told him with a playful glare.

“I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?” He sighed, leaning his head back. “Remember who it was who saved your sorry ass.”

“Uh, yeah, me and my burning desire to not die.”

“Oh, really? Who was it who gave you the kiss of life?”

“You call that a kiss?”

“You had us scared there for a second,” Pope interjected, settling down on the other side of the boat. Peterkin took the wheel, not wanting to break up the moment. You shrugged, turning your attention away from the smirking blond.

“Spite and stubbornness go a long way, my friend.” You locked your fingers together behind your neck, suppressing the need to cough again. It still felt like you were drowning, that deep, dark chill still deep in your bones. But you ignored it. No need making your friends any more worried than they already were.

Pope smiled and it was brighter than the sun above.

“Hey, what’s this secret pact you two have anyway?” John B asked, sitting so close beside you that his shoulder pressed against yours.

“It’s called a secret for a reason, little brother,” you told him with a roll of your eyes.

“Though, technically, I think you just lost,” Pope said to you with a raised eyebrow. You shot him a glower, hoping to silence him where he sat, but your busted lip and swollen eye kinda ruined the affect of the glare. It just made Pope laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” JJ asked you. You narrowed your eyes even further and crossed your arms.

“Nothing.”

A laugh rolled through each of you, as if everything was exactly the same as it had always been.

But you knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

Even looking at the water as the boat flew through the marsh made your stomach queasy. You could feel the reeds wrapping around your arms, coaxing you back to the darkness, to the depths below.

It wasn’t the cold or the darkness or the pain that scared you about going back in, it was the light you saw just at the end there. Just when you thought your life was done for, that you would never feel the sun or see Pope’s smile or hear JJ’s laugh or smoke with Kie or talk deep into the morning with John B, you had seen a light.

And it wasn’t white and inviting.

It was red. Red like fire.

That thought scared you more than anything else.

For now, though, you could sit with your friends and laugh and pretend like your end wasn’t coming. You’d escaped Death today and maybe he’d be pissed with you, but you could leave that for tomorrow.

Today, you were going to enjoy the sun, maybe drink a beer, maybe officially lose your bet with Pope. Life was too short to waste a second of it and now, you knew that first hand.

“Ah, what the hell,” you huffed half way through another bout of laughter from your friends.

“What-”

You turned toward JJ, putting your hands on the sides of his face and pulling him toward you. Kie was already practically screaming with laughter before you pressed your lips to his. JJ was shocked for just a moment before his hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in closer. John B’s mouth fell open, his eyes going wide. His eyes widened even farther when the kiss didn’t break.

“Yes!” Pope shouted. “I win, bitch!”

That just made Kie laugh even harder. John B turned to his friend who was hollering through his victory.

“This was your bet?”

But Pope was too excited to answer him. Even Peterkin cracked a smile.

It didn’t matter that you still couldn’t breathe because JJ had given you the kiss of life. And he was still giving it to you. It was much more enjoyable when you were actually conscious to feel it.

Fuck Death. Death could kiss your ass. Hell could kiss your ass. Your heaven was here.

Paradise on earth.

#jj maybank #jj obx #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #jj imagine #routledge!reader #routledge!reader x jj #i will never stop writing these #until the day i die #you can pry routledge!reader x jj out of my cold dead hands #pope heyward #kiara carrera #john b #john b routledge

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Note

hi do you accept fanfic requests? because imagine a love, rosie levihan au? the childhood friends to lovers slowburn? the angst in the middle but it gets resolved by the end?

Title: Lock and Key (1/2)

Summary:

"He thought back to the dingy small town, back to the dingy cage. Hange was just one canary who flew off. And Levi was the one left behind in the cage.

So he kept the lock in place. He held onto the key. Just in case, she did decide to come back."

Levi and Hange are childhood friends and Levi just can't bring himself to tell her how he feels.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: I'm sorry anon I did not follow the whole prompt. I took some liberties with it but I hope you still enjoy <3. Quick warning, it's a little angstier (maybe?)

It all started with a party. Years later, Levi was sure, during his off days, he would go back it---to the flashes of strobe lights, the guitar riffs, the beat music, the strong taste of alcohol burning at his throat.

Not for any of those sensations though. He felt like he was dying. They were painful,o verwhelming and Levi was frozen on his seat, cocktail glass between his shaking fingertips, the unnatural heat grazing his cheeks.

He didn’t want to be there.

But he would only be a high school student once. Soon enough they would be sending applications for college and he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the party scene with the thrill of ‘illegality.’

Soon, Levi had to admit, it wasn’t just about the experience. Who cared if it was illegal or legall. It was never just about the experience. He lived his whole high school life not engaging with that type of crowd.

It was Hange who got him just breaking past that comfort bubble he set up for himself, for just that one night. And the experience came with a burning question.

When can we do it again?

Hange was submitting applications to colleges outside the country. Levi didn’t know the odds exactly, he had been too terrified to ask. Something was telling him though that Hange wouldn’t be going to college nearby. In a years time, she might not be next to him.

Hange. The Hange that had been such a constant in his life. And when he was counting down days while basking in uncertainties, he was just a little more open to very uncomfortable feelings.

Hange didn't seem so terrified."This might just be our last hurrah before entrance exams," she said, a cheeky smile on her face.

I know that. Levi said. And as he saw that intent look in her gaze, all for him he was sure. Did he look like he was enjoying? How could he be enjoying it though when the music was playing in time to his pounding head?

“Toilet,” Levi said.

“Okay, you want me to order something else?”

“Just order anything. It’s your birthday,” Levi said as he teetered just a little bit towards the bathroom stall. They had picked a corner table at least and fortunately, the walk to the bathroom didn’t feel like so much of a journey.

Levi stayed in the toilet for a while longer. There were two stalls but by some divine grace, the bathroom was empty and Levi had to act quickly if he wanted to get anything out.

He studied his features. He was bright pink under the white light. He was occasionally blurry. The bright lights that came with reflections got his head a little pounding. But he thought he was in a fairly decent position to at least try.

He had plans on how to do it. Subtly so it wouldn’t hurt. Smartly so he only elicited enough of a reaction to placate his own doubt. And smoothly, so it would end in a blink of an eye.

“Hange, there’s a post I found on Reddit…” Levi rehearsed. Well technically that part was true but he didn’t want her to think he actually rehearsed that.

“Hey Hange, with college exams coming up soon… and your plans…” Levi started. Did he seem just a little too stalkery then? Was he supposed to be thinking of her plans when she hadn’t even told him anything?”

Levi had rehearsed, but the answers came out a little too impromptu. “I have an idea…”

“An idea? That sounds interesting. Everytime we work together in groupworks you never have ideas…” Hange’s voice was slurring, she was a little too talkative and Levi was hesitating.

He cleared his throat. “An idea…” He tested it himself, just to make sure it wasn’t coming out faltered or stilted like Hange’s voice then. “A marriage pact?”

Hange’s eyes widened then. And for a second, there was a flash of sobriety in them. “A marriage pact? This sounds interesting…”

Levi was quick to amend it, scolding whatever hell ghost changed those words before he said it. “Dating pact. I meant a dating pact. We’re not gonna get married without dating of course... I saw this on Reddit but what if… When we’re twenty-eight, when you finish that PhD you’ve always wanted and we’re still single… What if we try dating? Don’t get me wrong… dating just feels weird but I think that I might be missing something here but maybe when I’m that old, that would be a good time to try it out.”

Hange hummed in thought. “That’s an idea. We’re probably still too young to be thinking about dating huh? And with college exams coming up…” The gears in her brain were moving, Levi was sure. “But, if let’s say you find someone… Or I find someone?”

If you find someone? Just imagining the phantom man had Levi catching something in his throat. He looked away as he felt the bile rise up his throat, a little shaken by that moment where his imagination went wild for just a second. But he wasn’t supposed to feel that way.

Or maybe he should be feeling that way. After all, how many drinks had he downed until that point. Hange was starting to be a little wild too. It wasn’t an all too uncharacteristic move. She had always been the loud one, the more extroverted one.

But she was always particularly studious too and just seeing Hange jumped out of her seat and navigate her way through the crowds and towards the dancefloor had Levi suspended in disbelief for a second.

But he followed suit.

The strobe lights were brighter. The music was louder and in a way, it had devolved into ringing in his ears. Those were only secondary.

The moment he caught up to Hange, he found himself holding her by the arm, navigating all the way until her hand, just for a better grip. She was an anchor to reality, an anchor to reasoning beyond the harrowing effects of the lights and sounds.

Her skin on his wasn’t an overwhelming outburst of sensations. It was warm, it was smooth. The pull as she danced to some rhythm was predictable.

He had known her for years. Hange had always embodied comfort for him.

Tipsy, overwhelmed and a little unhinged at that moment, Levi danced to her rhythm and he rode the dizzying trappings of his inebriated state.

Riding such feelings though had its own collection of surprises and soon Levi found himself on the rooftop of the bar, enjoying the feel of the concrete right below him and beneath it, the shaking from the bass of the music just on the floor below him. It was faint though and there were sounds and sensations more intimate at that moment.

Hange’s breaths and the laughs in between were shaky. Her grip on his hand was tighter, far from painless but he couldn’t complain. God forbid, it might just end.

“Levi, I thought about the dating pact. What happens if you find someone? Or I find someone?”

“Then we don’t push through with the pact. Simple as that,” Levi said.

“You’ll still be there right? Even if I find someone?”

Levi felt a wave relief rush through him and he let out a harsh breath, a product of his own tipsiness then and his own discomfort at their circumstances. “We’ve been best friends since before we could remember. What’s a few more decades?”

“We might lose touch… I dunno? Did I tell you? I applied for colleges abroad. This just isn’t the best environment for research.”

“Then I’ll visit you.”

“And if I find someone there?”

“Then I’ll be the cool uncle to your kids, if you ever have them.”

***

He didn’t have to think about it over the months. Or maybe he just chose not to think about it.

Work, responsibilities and life as a whole never gave him any breaks to think so much as the far future.

What was the point of thinking about a future when he wasn’t working on it? So Levi worked his part time job, he studied and he prepared for his own entrance exams. Even when entrance exams ended, Levi was at least able to focus on the hell weeks before graduation.

He didn’t expect at all to have to think about it again, in a coffee shop of all places after one of his own shifts. He was in the middle of organizing the tea bags at the front of the shop when the reminder presented itself.

The reminder of such musings came as a clang of wind chimes, some huffing and puffing and some rhythmically unhinged footsteps. Hange appeared out of the corner and into the empty cafe, letter in hand.

Her cheeks were flushed and Levi had to note that she was wearing too little layers.

Levi glanced at the clock. “Did you just run here from your house at nine in the evening?”

Hange nodded. “Yes, I did.” Her house wasn’t too far, a ten minute walk if they were taking a relaxing stroll. It was nine in the evening though and it didn’t look like Hange had even bothered to put on a coat. Excitement probably did those types of things to people. She waved the letter up in the air and her breaths were only getting quicker and more unpredictable.

As if she was struggling to speak. “Slow down,” Levi said.

He untied his apron, pulled it off and sat on one of the tables closest to the counter. He patted the table, just a simple gesture for her to sit. He could spare a few minutes, his shift was ending soon anyway and not many people would be entering a breakfast cafe an hour before closing.

Hange needed a few more minutes to gather herself but she at least had some courtesy to slip the letter in front of him. “Read.”

We are pleased to inform you…

Full scholarship. Research stipend.

“I passed!” Hange said. “I’m leaving this dingy town for college!”

Levi was happy. He was sure of it. Maybe he had spent just a little too much time thinking logistics that it hadn’t manifested so naturally as a smile. He had to force it. He had to widen his eyes and he had to nod his head to express any approval. But really Hange’s face then a mixture of surprise, joy, ecstasy had him excited too. It had him shaking.

But there were just some things he couldn't shake off even with the most natural movements. Hange seemed to notice. “It’s only a plane ride away.”

But to get to the plane, one would need to get through at least three local trains, then the airport express then the actual airport and just the idea of Hange standing behind the barriers of money, bureaucracy and time was overwhelming in itself. Since they were young, Hange had only ever been a few blocks away. That wasn’t something he would have wanted to tell her though. She might just think he was crazy. “You’re right… It isn’t too far.”

“Didn’t you apply too?”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay for the tuition but I tried for a scholarship. It’s a long shot but…”

“Well, I heard they consider grades, extracurriculars as well as part time jobs.”

Levi knew that. He had done the research way beforehand. But he averaged Bs and his own financial situation and the need for part time jobs meant he had little to no engagement with other extracurriculars.

Still, Levi found himself hoping. When the letter arrived, left on the counter by his mother. Levi was quick to open it, his heart was racing and maybe his fingers had faltered a bit as he ripped open the top of the envelope.

We regret to inform you…

At that moment, Levi almost regretted even applying for the scholarship. The school didn’t even consider him as a student.

“There are community colleges,” his mother had said.

Conditional Acceptance. Scholarship denied. He wasn’t the type to hide those things from Hange. And maybe Hange read the room, maybe it had her treading rough grounds, more than Levi would have liked.

Graduation loomed like a vulture ready to strike. The difference was he knew exactly when the vulture would strike. And sometimes it flew over them in moments where Levi could have sworn graduation was still a long time away.

Hange didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she didn’t care. Hange though was something special. She prattled on about college plans, about her dormitory preparation and even about her thesis topics which were still five years away.

Then suddenly, she just stopped. Suddenly conversation topics shifted to studies, to research paper topics, to the most interesting customers Levi would run into at the tea shop.

Hange was still excited. Levi had known her long enough to figure it out. When Hange wasn’t holding anything, she was twiddling her thumbs. When she was watching her words, she tended to speak slower, she tended to stutter and she tended to pick the most professional words that most high school students wouldn’t even consider vernacular.

Levi brought it up again over team, a few months after the rejection letter, a few weeks after he noticed that subtle change in her demeanor. “Hange, how are your plans for college? You’re gonna have to leave in a month right?” Hange was leaving a few weeks after graduation, to give herself time to adjust to the new city.

Hange’s mouth dropped open. “I mean, yes… I will be leaving in a month.” She had been in the middle of mentioning words like ‘diction,’ and ‘sovereign’ when describing her writing style for her final paper and it looked like she was still trying to adjust.

Maybe Levi had introduced the topic a little too suddenly. It was too late to go back though. “So, we have a week or two after graduation right?”

“In between packing… Yes,” Hange said with a shrug. How Hange had mellowed into something hesitant, almost lifeless had been a mystery to Levi. For only that split second though. Hange cleared her throat. “How do you feel about it?”

It turned out, there had always been an elephant in the room. And it bared its fangs then, hidden right under the trunk. The air turned heavy, making it almost difficult to breathe.

He was the only one though capable of finding his own breath again. “What can I say? I didn’t pass.” Levi dropped his shoulders and let out a weak sigh, not loud enough to make himself seem pathetic. Rejection letters had already left him feeling pathetic for months.

Hange responded with a wry smile. “I’m sorry about that. I should have realized earlier. I should have been more sensitive.” She was kind. She was empathetic. She was always striving to be better. And she always had been.

At that moment, in the cafe, tapping her fingers on the porcelain cup, Levi saw it. She was a kettle, a pot ready to burst, only covered by a stubbornly heavy lid.

A lid she had put just for him. That was the moment Levi realized, he might just be pulling her back.

***

There was another elephant in the room. An elephant that followed with heavy steps that shook the whole room.

At least to Levi it seemed that way.

Uncertainty was a very heavy thing. When he could barely see what would be at the end of the tunnel---the end being the day Hange lugs a lifetime worth of belongings and takes a train to the airport--- Levi felt the pressure of his whole life in front of him crammed into the next two weeks.

A day after graduating, when the countdown just became a little too clearer, Hange wasn’t next to him and he had to make do. A day-long trip to the capital to get some student visa shit sorted out.

She wouldn’t have called it ‘student visa shit,’ she had said something nicer definitely, something that embodied her life long dreams of a living outside of their ‘dingy old town.’ That ‘student visa thing’ had Levi uncertain, twiddling his thumbs like she did many times before, the student visa thing had him feeling like ‘shit.’

So he called it ‘shit,’ and he enjoyed the bitter venom in his mouth, the sweet release and the comfortable exhale that followed.

“Sounds hectic,” Farlan said. He hadn’t been looking at Levi’s way the entire time, too busy aiming for a headshot at the screen.

It was hectic. But it wasn’t shit to Levi for that reason.

“I guess that’s one good thing about getting into community college.”

“Yeah, it does sound hectic.” Levi had been secretive about applying. He let the subtle fact that he had applied to similar colleges to Hange simmer in the room, ebb at the guilt inside him. He wasn’t telling anyone about community college being a fall back. That was a secret he’d keep to his heart, only known by his mother, his uncle and Hange. Fortunately, Hange never brought it up. “That’s why I didn’t wanna bother her today.”

“She’s busy.”

“When you get into a really good college I guess...” The silence was heavy again. The elephant in the room plopped down right next to him and their conversation wasn’t making too much sense and as Levi quickly analyzed the shooting game in front of him, he understood why Farlan wouldn’t have the headspace for some slight drama.

So Levi sat quietly, politely ignoring the tension, instead focusing on bending forward while cross legged, letting his back stretch behind him. Stretching his aching muscles, undoing knots, allowed some lightness to settle, taking the space of whatever heaviness there had been a second ago.

The game ended soon after with a taut swear from Farlan. Then a question Levi hadn’t been ready for. “Are you gonna tell her?”

Levi almost spat out his response. “Tell her what?”

Farlan put the controller down. “It’s your last chance right? Once she leaves for the city, she’ll find new people… And she’s not ugly you know. A lot of people--- men and women---will go after her. ”

She was frumpy, plain especially right after a shower. Worry and stress would line her face right after a long night. Levi had to admit though that she was far from ugly. Her notably bright personality, her intelligence that ‘came once every decade’ according to the many conversations he had heard among teachers were painful reminders, the impending goodbye was just turning out to be more and more terrifying.

“I know that.” Levi couldn’t bring himself to say anymore, not about his feelings, not about the marriage pact. Articulating what he was thinking would only serve to make it more real.

“How you feel about her leaving?”

“Well, of course I’m sad about it, she’s my best friend.”

“Yeah, but don’t you wanna lock it… If you know what I mean,” Farlan said slowly, as if he were talking to someone either oblivious or someone below the age of five.

Levi was neither five nor oblivious. Still, obliviousness was a convenient trait. “Lock what?”

Farlan let out a mix between a sigh and a laugh. “Never mind.” He clicked ‘start a new game.’ The loading screen flashed in front of him and Farlan used as an opening to turn back. “It’s up to you but--- I know she means a lot to you and I just think if she means that much to you… you should take the risk.”

Levi decided on it a few minutes later but he saw no convenient opportunity to tell Farlan, the latter having been engrossed in a more challenging campaign since a while ago. So any attempt to articulate his decision died there.

And he had two weeks to come up with a final plan.

***

Less than 24 hours ago, Levi was determined to tell Hange. His confidence was a littles stronger than usual. He was no writer but he had a script. He was no actor but he had allowed himself time in front of the mirror to balance his tones, to time his rests.

It was stupid. He had known Hange for years but circumstances, and maybe Levi’s own fastidious personality, had him realizing confessions were a nuanced thing. Emphasizing the wrong words could have Hange getting the wrong message.

And when he didn’t even know whether he wanted her to leave or stay, he wasn’t even sure what the right message was.

He had dedicated at least three hours to the whole preparation process when a speed bump appeared.

In the form of a shopping trip with his mother and the young daughter of the family friend. Isabel was only a few years younger, but her innocence, her blind optimism at the state of the world and the fate of relationships was closer to that of a five year old.

Having spent the past few hours dealing with his own skeletons, Levi was a little envious, particularly when she had walked ahead “ooh”-ing and “aah”ing at everyday things. The streets have always been cobblestoned. Although the trinkets at the front of the shops, although the food sold at the streetcars varied by season, the big picture always seemed the same to Levi.

If he walked until the end of the main street, he would find the town church. If he walked along the alleys, he would find a few pubs that opened too late in the day and too early in the evening. And if he kept walking until the end of the alleys, he would find greens. And lots and lots of mountains.

It is a dingy little town. Those were Hange’s words. But it’s our dingy little town. He hadn’t been to the center of town in so long and when all he could think about was Hange, he was noticing the smallest things. Everything Hange hated about the town.

“Levi, let’s check out the pet shop!”

Kuchel had been busy looking at the spices displayed at the front of one of the shops and Isabel was starting to get a little restless.

“I’ll take her,” Levi said.

Kuchel nodded, still occupied with spices. “Sure I’ll meet you there.”

It was a weekday, the beginning of summer yet the heat was enough to have Levi a little uncomfortable in a shirt with sleeves past his elbows. It was the crowd he had to navigate through definitely. Humans were warm creatures and the crowds trapped the warmth, the sun above only contributed its share of warmth.

Warmth and warmth mixed together became unbearably hot and under it all, Levi was uncomfortable, he was finding a distraction. And he was still thinking of Hange.

“Look, it’s a canary.” Isabel was supposed to have been a distraction. When Levi looked back to stare at it, he felt it, Hange was still a nagging thought in the back of his mind. And inadvertently, he was projecting her into anything remotely Hange.

“Can we buy it, Levi?”

His mind wasn’t in the conversation. He was focused just a little too much on the yellow bird, clamoring the sides of the cage, only grasping by the thinner metal bars. “You wanna buy the canary?” Levi asked.

“I read in a book. Canaries are high energy birds and they can’t be kept inside the cage. They said it’s not healthy."

"Not healthy?"

"I wanna set it free.”

Isabel was tugging at him but Levi was frozen in place. He had pulled out from the crowds and he was in a better position definitely. One discomfort had been replaced with another though.

The crowds came and left, soon replaced by thoughts of Hange once again. That had Levi stiffening up.

“Levi, let’s check the store!”

The poor poor canary.

“I wanna buy the canary!”

Kuchel wouldn’t allow it. Isabel’s parents wouldn’t allow it. Did they even have the money for it? They barely even made ends meet.

Levi was certain never before had he even given caged animals more than one glance but the canary had taken up more space in his mind, more than he was willing to have given from the start.

He stared longer. He stared deeper into those eyes. Then he figured it out, there was one bright eyed, high energy bird much closer to him. Before the thoughts could form into something else, Levi attempted to look away, surveying his surroundings instead.

The bright sweltering sun only served to magnify the black, rotting among the corners in the alleys and the houses. If he focused on the outdated grills and the peeling paint, he noticed it.. Hange was right, the small town was dingy.

When he looked beyond it, squinting just a little bit, he saw more. Just past the buildings and the alleys though were trees, greens, there were mountains. The next town was a good long train ride away. The next city was a much longer train ride away. The raw sensation of rejection letter on hand only served to build the bars for him.

The small town was a dingy cage. And two weeks later, he saw it in her. The bright yellow. The talons that clambered up, foraging for some opening in the cage.

And he saw it clearly completely at the gate to immigration, just a few minutes after check in.

Hange wasn’t crying. Hange didn’t curl her lips down into a grimace. In fact, everything was the other way around. It was as if she wasn’t leaving him and he wasn’t leaving her.

Levi spoke up. “Send a message before you take off.”

“Will do,” Hange replied.

“And when you arrive there,” Levi added.

“You know I will,” Hange said calmly. A big smile played at her lips. “You’ll visit right?”

“I’ll save up for it.” Levi had done the calculations. One year of saving, one year of cutting down on any luxuries and he could afford the plane ticket at least.

The train ticket. Then the plane ticket. The whole journey there. The weight of the effort seemed surreal and it would only become a reality when he lets her go, through the immigration doors.

Only passengers beyond this point. Levi stared at the sign for a little longer. Once Hange crossed that, the next time he would see her would be after he paid the ridiculous ticket prices, put in the long painstaking hours on the plane

“Hey, I’ll make sure to call, maybe every day, maybe once a week. Depending on how busy we both get,” Hange said gently.

Levi wondered what face he was making to receive such comforts. Hange’s voice wasn’t gentle by nature. She had only summoned it herself through careful thought, through some sustained effort for sure.

And he became more aware of the prickle at the back of his eyes and the inclination to just stand there for as long as he could. Maybe in another world that would have been enough to freeze time.

Then, suddenly he felt guilty for even hoping for some power over time. Hange had been calm, maybe wistful but she was also excited. “I might miss my flight if we stay here any longer.” Her tone was lighter than a while ago. She could have been making a joke.

Levi at least tried to adopt the same demeanor. HIs mind though had been elsewhere. Maybe he had managed a smile, a nod.

Hange turned her back slowly. With one wave of her hand, she went between the gates. She was still waving, past on the other side of the glass. She wasn’t looking at him anymore though.

Acceptance dawned on him more quickly than he expected. Maybe because Hange wasn’t just Hange anymore. Seeing her had been some catalyst to a quick recall.

To the canary long ago, stuck in the cage. The canary who had climbed to the top, in pursuit of some way out of that dingy metal cage.

Before Hange turned the corner towards the gates, she had looked at him one more time. Levi ran towards the glass wall, phone in hand. He held it in front of him and mouthed one word. “Text.”

Hange put one hand on the glass and nodded. She said something else, something he couldn’t tell. But it had fogged the glass just in front of them.

Dingy metal cage. Glass barriers. Two different materials but they did the same thing. They separated people. They kept some in. They kept others out.

Then Levi thought back to the cage, back to the canary and he thought back to the lock that blended too well to the cage. The canary would never have learned to open it alone.

Hange's own education. Her own wit had gotten her out of the cage.

And who was he to stop her? Hange had found the key. She had unlocked it herself.

“I love you. I wish you’d stay.” Would he have been able to call her back in with just one a few words? He said it as a whisper, enough to fog his side of the glass and the haze blended with hers.

By the time he said it the second time, then the third time, enough to cover Hange’s own fog, she had turned back already. She turned the corner, then towards the gate number.

Gate 23. Levi had been fixated enough to memorize the flight number and the gate number.

He stared for a few seconds longer, watching as the fog on the other side disappeared into nothing, leaving scratches and almost invisible specks of dust. For a second longer, he wondered if that had been anything Hange left behind.

He watched his own fog waste into nothing. He thought back to the dingy small town, then back to the dingy cage. Hange was just one canary who flew off.

And Levi was the one left behind in the cage. So he kept the lock in place. He held onto the key. Just in case, she decided to come back.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Petrified (pt. 6)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: So, I’ve got the rest of this fic planned out which means ideally, writing the rest of it should be easier. I’m so sorry for how long it took me to finish this part, I just had to figure out where I was taking the whole story first. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

A big thank you to those few anons who so kindly sent me some inspiration for this fic. I really appreciate the help, and it greatly assisted me in forming the outline to the rest of the story <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist! Also, I’d recommend looking at the warnings listed on Ao3 for the whole fic. There’s a lot of them, and some of you might like the heads up for future chapters (it will have slight spoilers though).

5.2k words

Warnings: Reader experiences panic attacks, severe anxiety & claustrophobia, coercive behaviour

The progression of the night felt slow, but perhaps that wasn’t such a horrible thing―it allowed your mind to grow accustomed to the seemingly endless rambling of a certain blond. That, and you could appreciate the unfaltering patience of his partner, who like you listened dutifully and made the occasional response to whatever the voice hero had chosen to fixate on.

And surprisingly, the frustrating agreement you were quite literally coerced into began slipping from your recollection, at least for the moment.

You’d admit, the two men had some fairly captivating stories. It was becoming a sort of norm for you to idly exist alongside them while they spoke. As a civilian, and one with relatively no past experience when dealing with heroes or villains, you were more or less forced to let them take the reins on the back and forth between the three of you.

That is unless they wanted to talk about what flowers were best paired together, or the step by step process of tending to some particularly high maintenance plants. You assumed they didn’t, and stayed quiet in your ways.

And so time went on, you nestled into the corner of their couch in the small but comfortably furnished living room, the fuel burning fireplace giving off a warmth that settled the nerves that had been sent skyrocketing not too long ago.

For the second time that night, your eyes drifted to the clock hanging on the wall―6:52 pm.

In moments like these you were able to be thankful of Shouta’s perceptiveness, him following your gaze without you realizing his actions. It wasn’t until he voiced his own concerns of not wanting to keep you up too late that you had the realization of his observances.

Naturally, you had no qualms with the idea of your departure.

Hizashi wasn’t as accepting of it, being the overly affectionate person you hated him for, but he would always listen to Shouta before he did so with you. And with a stern glance and brief assurance, his own opinions gave way in favour for the erasure hero’s.

You tried insisting that calling a cab home was no issue, but you rarely got your way with the two, and tonight was not going to be an exception. That reality had you sitting in their car on the way back to your apartment, Hizashi in the driver's seat and still managing to find something to discuss. At this point you weren’t sure if you preferred the nearly deafening silence of Shouta’s company, or the never ending chatter of his partner, but that too was out of your control when you were seen off by the visibly exhausted man at the door just minutes ago, him favouring to remain home to clean up for the night.

The speakers were playing low, some unrecognizable channel broadcasting soft rock while you politely listened to Hizashi drone on as he drove the car through town. It had begun raining just before you left, the distinct but quiet noise of downpour hitting the windshield having a somewhat soothing effect.

It was greatly appreciated, when the sound of Hizashi’s voice was growing in intensity the more excited he became with the topic at hand. You didn’t have the heart to tell him to lower his tone, and so you did your best to contain any brief winces when the pitch raised just above a comfortable level.

When the sight of your apartment complex came into view through the rain splattered glass and street lights reflecting off the droplets, a deep sigh of relief escaped your lungs. Paying attention to the exuberant man after such a long and mentally tasking night was difficult, but somehow you managed to pull it off. You gave yourself some credit for surmounting the task, fully prepared to bound out of the vehicle to your awaiting bedroom the second the chance to do so arose.

The car came to a halt, Hizashi putting the gear shift into park outside the complex. You waited for the doors to unlock, getting ready to say your goodbyes.

You felt a warm hand rest atop your thigh instead, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Before ya get going, I just want to mention one last time that what you’re doin’ at work really isn’t the best idea, sunshine. I know, I know―you like helping people with that cute lil’ quirk of yours. It’s just the whole thing isn’t treatin’ ya very well, you can’t tell me it’s something you’re really okay with keeping up.”

The leg that wasn’t being held down by the blond’s hand bounced anxiously―the action itself unconscious, and movements small to the point where he didn’t pick up on it. His gaze was hard set on your expression, and the raw concern in his eyes was only unsettling, the exact opposite effect it should have.

Salvation was just a few metres away, but with the car doors still locked, it might as well be in another country.

Your eyes trained on the passing cars at the intersection down the street, plastering the best casual look across your face. Inwardly, you prayed he couldn’t sense the way your heart rate had picked up to a racing pace, and the somewhat unsteadiness to your breathing.

“It’s hard, but the job is all I have. Not just for money, but I really do get satisfaction out of working there. And...while this isn’t really the first time I’ve had issues because of my quirk, I can’t just let it stop me from doing what I love.”

Without even looking at him, you could tell how much he disapproved. And you didn’t need the visual confirmation when the grip on your thigh got tighter, and the noise of breathy exhale sounded off next to you. “Sunshine, you’re only hurtin’ yourself. It’s not worth it to do that over a job.”

For once your eyes met his, only for a moment, with a small and brief surge of what you think may have been confidence. Could’ve been stupidity, either way it had you replying with an edge. “You’re one to talk, don’t people like you get hurt all the time for the sake of your job?”

There was a pause, and in that silence you feared for your life.

But then the blonde gave an amused chuckle, removing the hand from your thigh to wave off your confrontational remark. “It’s different for you, I’m supposed to get hurt if it means I’ll protect someone else. And even then, I’m ready to rock with a little help from my friends. My wounds are healed and then it’s back to business―your aches are long term. And for what? Those pretty flowers are gonna die no matter what ya do, no need to put yourself through it to give them a few more days of air time, honey.”

All you could do was smile, even though the condescending attitude was killing you in more ways than one. To drive your fake expression of positivity home, you mustered that awful customer service voice that you’d summon when having to deal with some less than savoury individuals.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re right, Hizashi. It’s just...I’m really dedicated to my job, and I have been for a long time. I don’t think we’ll be able to agree on this, but that’s not a big deal.”

He gave you a lasting look, as if trying to find answers that he wouldn’t get from spoken responses. Dismissively, the blond shook his head, unlocking the passenger door. “Alright, alright. I’m not gonna change my mind on this though. And ya better hold up your end of the deal either way. I don’t think Shouta or I could take another scare from you so soon, got it?”

Oh, you heard him loud and clear.

You nodded in agreement, “Of course, thanks for the ride home. Oh―feel free to tell me if you have to cancel any of our plans if something comes up too.” Hurriedly, you were collecting your handbag that was strewn across your lap, reaching for the handle and pushing the heavy door open.

“Sure thing, hun!” Inwardly, you cringed for the thousandth time this night at his unwelcome pet names, giving a final smile before gently shutting the car door.

The sound of rain lightly coming down around you, with the damp heaviness in the air felt like an atmospheric and emotional reset. One that you needed―your pent up anxieties were ready to break through the walls you put up since the second you stepped out of your apartment. And you almost forgot about them too, the feeling of consistent dread becoming something that lingered alongside all your other emotions. It never went away, and it’s not that you stopped noticing it completely, rather you had to push it down to keep up a calm facade.

And now, you didn’t dare glance back in Hizashi’s direction as you made your way to the front entrance of the complex. Because he would see the look on your face, lower lip quivering, eyes watering and expression just barely holding it together.

The distraction of a normal conversation was ripped from your body, and the prospect of having to worry about balancing work as usual without looking like a liar came crashing down on you.

You could only hope that the walls were thick enough for your neighbours to be protected from the sounds of your sobs.

_____

Petals grew with a lively plushness, leaves sprouting a new sense of vitality. It was a beautiful display of plant life.

And you grew tired.

Your most recent purchase of concealer was doing a good job dissuading people from that fact however. Even after a long work day, it remained masking the dark circles underneath your eyes. Nothing changed for a while, except for the notion that you were getting better at keeping the drawbacks of your dedication out of the spotlight.

Arrangement after tedious arrangement, your quirk brought life back into the greenery like it always did. You only wished you felt as healthy as you looked. The sight of a blemish free and lively complexion as a result of your new makeup routine made you a little jealous, knowing the truth.

You never felt so concerned and drained over the reality of your general state before now.

Those two heroes wanted you doing what they thought was best for you, which they had no right to decide. And although you resolved in secret to simply put up a front of agreeableness, their demands still had an effect.

Paranoia was one of them.

Having them walk in on your work shift unannounced was a slim possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless. Ideally, you would save the fairly high priced makeup for those impending weekend nights spent with the two. Yet, the prospect of either of the heroes catching you off guard, and quite clearly unchanged from holding yourself back, kept you reapplying the product day after day.

You went into the ordeal with high hopes, but with each passing shift your doubts only became more incessant. Going through the motions of what was normally a mindless routine became taxing, even just days after seeing the two. And so, when the time rolled around a week later to give them what was pretty much a progress report passed off as a friendly get together, it was difficult to maintain a straight face.

No amount of astonishingly good food, or engaging stories by the fireplace could take your mind off the question that by all means should pop up.

And it did―merely proving your conceptions of what they really had in mind for nights like these. For some ungodly reason the two sought to control this part of your life, one that if it weren’t for them might not be a big issue. Without the emotional strain, your body would be able to handle the effects of utilizing your quirk in a way that was manageable.

It was their fault you felt as if the end of a work day couldn’t come sooner, and the fumes of energy you retained nearly weren’t enough to get you home each night.

And yet, as they sprung the expected question upon you, demanding to know if you were following through with your end of the ‘agreement,’ they seemed none the wiser to your blatant lies.

Well, aside from the fleeting glance Hizashi sent to Shouta, which was promptly disregarded, you’d effectively averted another crisis. It was back to settling into the background of their company, losing yourself in their words for the moment where the questionable reality of the situation went over your head.

Perhaps if you grew closer to the heroes under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t feel so gut wrenchingly apprehensive whenever you caught yourself coming to greatly enjoy your time with them. It was like an internal betrayal―your body unable to disregard the oppressive behaviour they exhibited, while simultaneously longing to have gratitude for their hospitable nature.

By the end of the night, the semi-forced meeting had you feeling as drained as any work day would, and then some.

In fact, you never fully recovered from it.

You only got worse, the need to apply more concealer and muster everything in your being to force a smile on your face during the day being the bane of your existence. It was all because of them, and they didn’t even know.

If you weren’t so miserable, you could almost laugh at the whole thing. They were the ones urging you to take better care of yourself, and yet it was them who were keeping you from doing so. It’s not like you could just heed their words and stop using your quirk―your livelihood depended on it. Tips were hard to come by in your occupation, and the only reason why you earned so much was due to the advantage you held in the workplace.

The frustration was what had you crying yourself to sleep some nights, at least when you weren’t too exhausted to simply pass out the second your head hit the pillow. You began devising ‘what if’ scenarios that would only have to do with ways to avoid Shouta and Hizashi. Ways to weasel your way out of meeting up with them.

Maybe you could fake being sick? They would just come check up on you regardless.

Perhaps you could move to another city? You didn’t have the funds―and what if they followed you?

Why don’t you just ask them to end the agreement?

...Don’t lie to yourself, you’d rather lose your job than face that level of confrontation.

They were an active nuisance even when they weren’t directly in your life. And so when they were present in that sense, the feeling of unbearable stress only increased tenfold.

Hizashi was one for texting, the sound of a message alert from your phone instinctively triggering your heart to drop in your chest like a Pavlov dog. A painful reminder in the times you managed to free your worrisome mind from their unintentional torment.

And then there was the unannounced visit from Shouta on your way home. It only happened once before the next dinner night, but it was enough to break down the wall you’d built for the ensuing occasion that would hopefully protect your weak heart from shattering under the stress.

He walked you home, catching you on your way back from work. It was peculiar, to say the least. A hero as busy as him actively ignoring his duties to see a civilian who was in no danger whatsoever back to their apartment. You initially questioned him, and he blew off the concern with the defence that this type of occurrence was very much in the rage of heroics that needed to be done.

You weren’t in danger, but you might’ve been if he hadn’t showed up. It was a logical action taken by him, and you shouldn’t worry about it.

Shouta was quiet on his feet, and you might’ve thought he’d left you be if it weren’t for that distinct rustling of his capture weapon shifting as he walked next to you. He was a man of few words, and seeing you home didn’t require much conversation when he was simply doing his duty as a hero.

You arrived at the complex, safe and sound. Physically at least.

As always, you had to adjust from keeping your anxieties to yourself, to being so overwhelmingly aware of them in the privacy of your own apartment. The floodgates were opened, and bottled up emotions no longer had a need to stay hidden. Coming home was never supposed to be so painful, but it was when you were forced to spend it trying to calm down from the chance day.

_____

They let you make dessert for your next meeting. The both of them were deeply impressed by your skills, offering their own extensive words of praise.

Expectedly, it wasn’t enough to have them forgetting the real reason why you were there. You were thankful when Shouta asked how you were doing this time―he always got straight to the point.

But you ended up yawning midway through dismissing their concerns, and of course they pressed you on it. It wasn’t intentional in the slightest. You didn’t want to give away that your limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds with how tired you were. Or how your existence could now be chalked up to getting ready for work, going to work, and recovering from work―with a sprinkle of uncontrollable meltdowns on the side.

You told them it was getting late, and they had offered you a drink, so naturally you were a little tired from it. No big deal, right?

Of course, they said.

And so you went home not too long after, Shouta in the driver's seat, stoic and silent as ever. Maybe it was your hazed over mind playing tricks on you, but his demeanour felt...off. Like he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back. Perhaps it was for your sake, or he just assumed you were too worn out to really take whatever words were floating around in his head to heart. So instead he kept a close eye on you the whole way home, stealing concerned glances that you never met with your own gaze. He was tense―the white knuckled grip on the wheel gave it away.

Shouta never gave you evidence as to why he was acting as such, and you never asked him to.

_____

While you may have been growing accustomed to their presence even in the slightest, it didn’t stop your body from shutting down in the areas that you needed most.

Resilience was your strong suit in the time before meeting the two men. But life was testing you around every corner, and you were failing these tests with worse results each time.

It was Wednesday, the halfway mark in another week that felt all too long for you to be able to stomach. Unforeseen obstacles were becoming a norm lately. Making sure you were stocked up on enough caffeine so you didn’t black out, pinching yourself to stay awake in the slower times at work, consciously paying attention simple actions so you didn’t trip over your own two feet. Generally, it was the small stuff that was making your life harder alongside the more glaring issues you faced.

And now, the obstacle was getting home. It’s not that this wasn’t always a task in itself, but it never developed past the routine of ensuring you were heading in the right direction when your mind chose to wander.

This time you were sure the route you were taking was correct, but something was in your way.

Your ears rung at the high pitched sirens going off around you. The flashing lights of firetrucks, ambulances, and other various first responder vehicles lit up the steeped darkness of the night. A crowd had formed at the police tape line blocking off one side of the street, the group effectively taking up any space left to get by on the other side that wasn’t bombarded by emergency personnel.

The sight seemed like an insurmountable feat, especially in your state. Physically and emotionally drained, the gathering of onlookers stood as one of your worst fears and largest challenges yet. Whatever had earned such an audience was beyond you. Realistically, you needed only to regard the response it was given to know that whatever had happened, it was quite serious.

And it was preventing you from moving forward.

There was the shortcut to your left, one that’d worked for you before...until it didn’t. The warnings of Shouta and Hizashi ran through your head, bringing on a new sense of anxiety. It was just what you needed―the words of the two most intimidating men in your life keeping you from seeing yourself home in a calm manner.

You couldn’t take the alleyway. The only option was right in front of you.

Deep breaths.

It was only roughly twenty or thirty feet of crowd. Tightly packed, and relatively unmoving. You didn’t have the heart to rudely shove your way through the condensed gathering, fearing the looks of disapproval from those you tried to get past. And so you weaved through slowly, barely getting out a passing “Pardon me,” or “Excuse me.”

Distantly, you were aware that your voice was so small amongst the muddled conversations of strangers and still blaring sirens, that the probability of anyone hearing your forced politeness was slim to none. But the action made you feel better, even if nobody knew that you were having these concerns. At least you were trying to be wary of others.

But you didn’t get the same care in return.

Rudely, an observing civilian shoved you to the side, selfishly trying to get a better view. You stumbled into another body, earning a curse of annoyance for your clumsiness. With a racing heart hammering in your ears, you gave a distressed apology. It earned you no leniency.

You can block them out, just focus on getting out of here.

Another harsh force collided with your back, sending you to the pavemented ground. The feeling of your knees scraping against the harsh surface didn’t register. The notion that tears were welling in your eyes didn’t either. Only the sensation of panic, and the ability to simply breath becoming more difficult was able to surface in your consciousness.

You pleaded with your body to stand up, and somehow you did, no thanks to anyone around you who could’ve very well assisted you. Through the thickness of the crowd you couldn’t even see where the bodies dissipated. All you could do was blindly move forward.

Nobody cared about how overwhelmed you quite obviously were. Or at least that’s what you thought, not being able to completely tell, or ask for help to hopefully alert someone of your extreme discomfort. They only needed to remove their focus from whatever scene warranted so much attention in front of them for a second to realize what they were unknowingly doing.

And yet, of course nobody was that conscious of their own actions. Not like you, who even amidst the chaos of being shoved in every which direction still desperately tried to minimize your own damage. It was for the sake of those who paid no mind for your own comfort, you fearing whatever might happen if you didn’t.

The presence of so many people was suffocating. If you didn’t think you were claustrophobic before, you certainly knew you were now.

You were exhausted, stressed, partly injured―although that fact still hadn’t set in yet―and unbearably on edge.

And then you were out.

You don’t remember going through the motions, just that now your body wasn’t compressed by countless others. A few seconds went by and you felt your sense of balance come back to you. But you still felt nauseous, and in lifting a hand to your face you realized that you were crying, feeling the distinct wetness against your fingers.

Out of the need for mental self-preservation, your brain essentially forced you into autopilot. You found your legs moving away from the crowd, and down the route that would lead you home. It amazed you by the time you shut the door to your apartment that you hadn’t passed out. The way you still shakily sucked in breaths in quick succession hadn’t stopped, and your hands could barely keep steady as you fumbled with the locks on the door.

The work bag weighing you down was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, and you tiredly trudged to the kitchen table. Had you gone any longer without rest, you could’ve very well collapsed right there on the floor. Thankfully, you made it to a chair before then, burying your face into your arms that were folded over the table as you slumped against it.

Tired and weak sobs wracked your worn out body, and you let the steady stream of tears be soaked up in the sleeve of your hoodie. As for how your mind was fairing, you couldn’t really tell. Getting a grip on your wavering thoughts felt impossible. It was an uncontrollable back and forth between what had happened, and fleeting attempts to ground yourself.

That task of focusing on the present wasn’t something you could do alone, at least not at the moment. But the sound of your phone ringing could. Your heart stopped at the auditory intrusion, and hesitantly you pulled the device out of your pocket.

The caller ID had you relapsing, broken cries unable to be contained for a few seconds as you tried to figure out how to deal with this new and greatly unappreciated problem. Your eyes scanned over the buzzing and lit up device, reading over Shouta’s name repeatedly.

You let the call go to voicemail.

A moment of reprieve―and then the ringtone started for a second time.

With bated breath, you stared at the device. You could let it go to voicemail once again. You could blow it off as not being near the phone when you were inevitably questioned on the occurrence.

Or you could answer the damn thing now, and be done with the weight of the night.

On the final ring before the automated response kicked in, you pressed the ‘accept call’ button. In lifting the phone to your ear, the gruff and concerned voice of Shouta broke through before you could make any move to initiate the dreaded conversation first.

“Sorry to bother you, just checking to see if you got home safe. There was an incident in your area in case you weren’t already aware…”

The line went silent as you took a moment to collect yourself before giving a response.

You sucked in a deep breath, “I’m alright, thanks for calling.” The appreciative lilt in your tone was as genuine as you could make it. But the shakiness, the crack in your voice as you spoke―it was a dead giveaway.

“...Then why do you sound like you’ve been crying for hours? You need to tell me if something happened, (y/n).” Even with the way the phone call distorted his voice, the sternness still pierced your resolve as if he was standing right in front of you.

Your words were shaky as you felt a plethora of distressing emotions bubbling rapidly inside of you. “I said I’m fine, Shouta. You don’t need to―”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I’m only asking because I’m worried about you, alright? Clearly something’s wrong, just―tell me what happened.”

You wondered if he was aware of just how unfriendly he sounded while saying something like that. It was more so a harsh command for a response, rather than a gentle urge to inform him of your wellbeing. Like he was bothered with you trying to remain strong, and not burdening him with your problems.

That was your issue with Shouta―a hint of what you could only assume was annoyance lingered in his words where you were concerned. At least, that’s how it was when you were behaving in such a manner that didn’t comply with how he’d decided you should act. You’d seen him in a light that was enjoyable. When you first met him, or after he’d already chewed you out during those Saturday nights and thus no longer felt the need to pressure you on what truth you’d developed over your state.

Unfortunately, right now your state went against all those lies you told. An emotional wreck, beaten down by the hands of those too caught up in some captivating scene to take account of the consequences to their ignorance.

Determination was wavering in your mind, and if you didn’t end the call soon then the chance of making all the effort you’d put into keeping them from the truth would be for nothing.

“Really, everything is okay. Listen, I’m sort of busy right now…” You stifled a sob into a clenched fist, “I-I can’t talk at the moment, I’m sorry―I have to go.”

Your finger was flying to the ‘end call’ button as soon as the words left your mouth. His protests rang through the speaker, but exactly what he said was beyond you.

The line went dead, and your phone shut off. It clattered against the wooden table as you dropped it. Your hands lifted to rub the hot tears falling down your cheeks, full body tremors wreaking havoc as you remained seated.

In the silence of your apartment, your emotions settled into a static numbness. Your eyes remained trained on the table, mindlessly taking in the details of the wood’s grain. Whatever would happen as a result of you abruptly cutting off the conversation wasn’t a scenario you could formulate.

The screen on your phone remained black, and you made no move to turn it on. You never checked it for the time that was passing as you remained utterly drained at the kitchen table. Something in the back of your mind told you that yes―you could very well get up and go to bed. Or maybe you could bring yourself out of this empty feeling with a distraction.

You could even call Shouta back, perhaps apologize for behaviour that was out of your control...

...No, you couldn’t do that.

Possibilities of various actions presented themselves, and yet you remained unmoving. Your breath had steadied to a slow intake and outtake, disregarding the quivering that still persisted. You didn’t want to think about what had happened, so you didn’t think at all.

You settled into that state for an unknown amount of time. And it took a while, but slowly you could focus on the background noise around you. The air conditioner hummed from the vents against the wall, the thumping of footsteps from residents above you sounded off a couple of times.

Actually...there were more than just those few footsteps.

Still in a daze, you trained your weak focus on that sound. Distant, then coming closer. You turned your head to the front door of your apartment where they stopped.

Three loud raps against the frame. Firm, steady, and done with purpose.

Your heart sunk into your chest.

(End of part 6)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner

#yandere bnha #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #yandere eraserhead #yandere aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #yanderecore #yandere writing #yandere x you #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #tw claustrophobia

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idv-twins · 3 years

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BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out. 💗 =]

NO U!!

Thank you dear anon! ;A; that's so sweet of you

#jammed gears // ooc #clock without gears // anon

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eligos-venator · 3 years

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1. What is your favorite trope to rp?

6. Name 3 things you love most about your muse/muses.

13. Is there one trope you can’t stand?

14. What is your opinion on writing smut?

16. Do you prefer long or short replies and why?

22. Are there any red roleplay flags for you that make you back off immediately?

This one will be a bit long, so for convenience's sake for scrolling, I'm putting this all under a cut!

1. What is your favorite trope to rp?

I mentioned Fridge Horror prior, so next up on the list would be what Eligos effectively is when hired by the vast majority of people, which is the Token Evil Teammate. He's the opposition to many plans, and is only in it for the money, down to where threats of pay loss are what keeps him in line, often enough. It's enjoyable to write this trope because he offers counterpoints to plans rather than blindly playing along, and it gets gears turning and questions asked that might not be, because he isn't nearly as invested as other characters who might rush headlong into a plan without full consideration of possibilities.

6. Name 3 things you love most about your muse/muses.

Doing Eligos for this one!

• Eligos turns his failures into profit through malicious creativity and adapting on the fly. Me, I'm a creature of habit and if given the option, I pick the rut rather than jumping out of it, often enough. So Eligos not even acknowledging the box beyond disrespecting it for the sake of has been an interesting challenge to write out, as he takes something that might be considered a loss otherwise and makes it profitable for himself.

• Limited technology meets creativity is always fun to see play out for me. Eligos might have a vast sum of knowledge, but he prefers things that have been tested and proven, which means he doesn't field new equipment often if at all. If something's fielded, it's taken a few IRL months of him stress testing it and multiple roll checks to see if he's keeping it or if it met his standards before he'd even consider deploying with it. Because of this, his arsenal is far smaller than people might expect, even when in armor. Instead, he makes up for the limited arsenal with malicious creativity in application, which is always fun for me to try to figure out with how he can change his plans on the fly based on new information he's given.

• He'll work for anyone and can get along with anyone. Rather simple, but Eligos's passive nature when not on the clock and his dislike of violence, viewing it as a tool to get what he wants when working, ensures that he can get along with most people, I've found. He may not agree with them on everything or anything, but can still find a way to sit down and chat at the least. This is enjoyable to me because I love meeting the characters of others, and prior characters all had a pain point that might make them react extremely harshly, making it so that not all characters could interact with. Eligos lacks that pain point, that sticking part in his personality where he just can't compromise in some fashion at least long enough to indulge his curiosity. And that means he can engage any character far easier than my prior characters were able to.

13. Is there one trope you can’t stand?

I've spoken of 'love will fix all' as a disliked trope in depth before, so we'll put that one aside for today. One of the things I dislike is the expectation of every battle to be won when facing a villain character, which some heroic character players have. That makes for bland, boring story, in my mind. I'm not expecting Eligos to win every fight. He's failed more often than he has succeeded, but that's the fun part: turning his failures into successes. But if every fight/encounter ends with failure, or every fight ends in success, it becomes boring and monotonous, as in failure we learn and so too can characters learn and grow, and in success they can be emboldened. But if there's no balance, it all ends up feeling stale to write out, and rather bland.

14. What is your opinion on writing smut?

It can be good fun to write with people, and can give those small insights that characters might not ever show when their guard is up as much as it normally might be. I have no issues with writing it myself and enjoy doing so when it does occur, but also get it isn't everyone's cup of tea. If someone doesn't write it or enjoy it? Don't push them to do so. Conversely, just because one might not enjoy writing it or like it doesn't give a blank check to be discourteous to those that do enjoy it.

16. Do you prefer long or short replies and why?

I've answered here! I really just prefer having enough information to work with, and having characters engage in some way. Length doesn't matter to me as much as engagement.

22. Are there any red roleplay flags for you that make you back off immediately?

• Any indication that the player is playing a heroic character to 'win' fights against villains rather than actually engaging will result in me refusing to roleplay. I'm here to write and have fun, not be a tally number for number of characters someone's beaten to stroke their in-character ego.

• Any indication of heavy metagaming or power gaming being involved. If someone straight up starts a roleplay knowing Eligos is Garlean, despite him looking like a mixed-breed Hyur and my making mention of in introductions, without speaking to me on an out-of-character basis and getting my agreement, I'm going to quietly dip. Often times, such metagaming and any indication of power gaming are indicative of other issues to be alert for, and so if I see the red flags there, I'm unlikely to stop to peer past them to see what there is. I'll take them at face value for what they are.

• I know some lovely PvPers who roleplay. They're great fun to be around and chat with, and I love hearing about their characters! And FFXIV doesn't have a duel system, so this isn't related to them in the slightest. But in other games, if people tried to resolve in-character conflicts by issuing OOC duels, I'd just drop the roleplay as it meant that to them, just having that win under their belt by having better PvP gear was more important than writing things out and making a story. If a duel is to be fought? I prefer dice and rules set out in advance to be fair, no matter level differences, or just trusting the other writer if I know them enough to know they won't be adjusting their build mid-fight or trying to godmode their way to victory or try to outright murder characters without consent.

Thank you for the ask, anon!

#asks and memes #thank you for the ask!#munday meme #mun speaks

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