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wildestdreamsblog · 5 months

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Latibule Season 2: I

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: In the spirit of Christmas hehe

Masterlist, Prologue

He didn’t believe that you were gone no matter what anyone said.

Everyone was saying the same thing. You were gone and there was nothing anyone could do to bring you back. However, Min Yoongi didn’t like their answer and anyone who said that you had already passed on from this earth was met with his wrath that was communicated through his fists and weapons. No one could even tell him that he now couldn’t physically follow where you were. In his twisted mind, he thought that he could follow you because you never left this earth. Of course, he could follow. You did promise, after all, that you would never go somewhere where he couldn’t fucking follow. His angel would never lie to him, he thought. But your absence was saying otherwise. Your absence was too loud.

The days following the moment he opened his eyes and learned of your demise were bloody and dark. Everyone was on edge, and the traitors went to hell here on earth. They did wish they had died instead, but death was never quick when it came to them, nor was it painless. Min Yoongi made sure that they felt every ounce of pain he felt when you were taken away from him. His brothers could not even reason with the man. They didn’t know how to handle this Min Yoongi. It was as though he died there with you, and what was left of him was only his darkness. Agustd was already ruthless, but now he was just outright cruel, burning everything and everyone that crossed his path.

No one could even say their piece to him-well, all except Kim Seokjin. Despite Jin choosing the less violent life and despite him spending his days treating people in the hospital, no one could deny the power he naturally excluded. It was the power that was inherent to him when he was unfortunate enough to be born to a father that was the previous mafia king. Kim Seokjin may possessed the face of an angel, but he was the most dangerous of them all. It was just that he had a patience of a saint, and everyone fret the day someone snapped his patience. He was a dangerous, eccentric man. And he was a ticking time bomb in comparison to Taehyung who just kept on exploding without an end in sight. Min Yoongi, though, was known to be a reasonable man, his calm nature was never broken. It took losing you to break the calmness in him. The days after he woke up, he was seen back where he was the happiest. Day after day, Yoongi could be found there, leaning against the tree with cigarette in between his lips as he looked at the ruins of your house. The fire took everything from him. It was angry as it smoldered what once was his latibule to the ground, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. Yoongi thought that the world was simply too cruel to him to strip away the only place he had of you. He couldn’t even smell you anymore, couldn’t even go to the place that was full of your presence.

How cruel was it to have you once and never again? How cruel was it for him to finally have found the warmth, to finally have basked in it for a moment too short, only for him to live in a winter forever after you? He would never admit to anyone that each time he closed his eyes, the only thing he saw was the moment you fell as the bullet pierced your skin. So, he had not been sleeping well. If you were here, he thought, you would chase away all the demons in his head. If you were here, you would put your arms around him, rub your hands on his shoulder in a soothing way only you knew how, and you would silently tell him that everything would be okay, that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. Yoongi couldn’t do anything. All he did was to go to the place where he found and lost you.

He was always there, Jimin noted. He made this place your temple, mural and shrine. However, never once did he visit where you were finally laid to rest. Never once did he even acknowledge your death. It was like not seeing it would make your death untrue. And so, day after day, hour after hour, the man could be found there as though he was waiting on a miracle, as though if he waited long enough then you would return, as though if he stayed long enough, you would walk back and smile at him, all while calling him a fool for looking too sad.

But you never did.

And after a whole year, Min Yoongi never uttered your name again.

---

“Y-you’re supposed to be the good one! W-what is the Chief of Police doing here?!”

Yoongi watched in boredom as Jungkook pushed a man to kneel in front of him. The warehouse was quiet, well, save for the screaming of the traitors. The other brothers were busy with torturing the remaining traitors they kept alive. And today, he was faced with the last remaining traitor they had yet to kill. See, this asshole was so below the rank that he didn’t know that the Chief of Police was also the same Agustd, the leader of the mafia.

He was nothing, Yoongi thought. And yet, he was the one who blew up your house. He could almost laugh if he still knew how. “T-the public will know! I’ll tell them that you’re the d-devil!”

Yoongi blew the smoke on his face emotionlessly, a strand of his dark hair falling on his face. “You’re not an intelligent man, are you?” he asked evenly before pulling the cigarette in between his lips and onto the idiot’s eyelid. He heeded his screams no mind as he removed his jacket with his badge on it. Someone from his right stepped in to carefully fold his jacket. Yoongi folded his sleeves to his elbows and without any warning, punched the man on his face.

The man proved to be an even greater fool as he laughed in false bravado, blood a stark contrast against his crooked teeth, “Is that all you can do? You don’t have it in you to kill. You’re a civil servant!”

“Is that so?” he asked in a conversational tone as he picked up a knife, putting it up over the light to inspect it before turning to the buffoon. “Which hand burned the house?”

“What?”

Yoongi looked at Jungkook and the latter manhandled the man near the table, flatting both his hand on it. “Which hand should I cut?” He walked nearer to them as though he had all the time in the world. “This one,” he stabbed the table, missing the man’s hand by a centimeter. “Or this one?” he repeated the action for the right hand, except that this time he intentionally stabbed the knife through his thumb, severely cutting it. “Oh no,” he said in a deadpanned voice before looking directly at him. “Guess my aim got bad.”

“W-who are y-you?!”

He smiled at him; his eyes remained emotionless. “Hi, I’m Agustd. Nice to meet you. So which hand?”

“N-No! No, please! I’ll give you what you want-“

Yoongi sighed, already losing his patience. “You do have to choose. We won’t stop until you only have one hand. Or do you want me to choose?”

“L-lef-“

Before the traitor could even finish sputtering what Yoongi deemed was bullshit, he buried the hilt of the knife into his hand. He didn’t even blink when he felt resistance from his bones, Yoongi merely kept on pushing, uncaring of the wailing man. He never stopped until he the knife finally touched the surface of the table.

And after that, he stabbed his hand again. He never ceased, not until the hand was completely mutilated. He never stopped, not even when the blood kept sputtering on his face from the man’s open wound, a stark contrast on his pale white complexion. He never stopped even when the man lost consciousness.

“He’s going to die, Yoongi,” Seokjin noted lightly from his seat. From outside looking in, he looked like a perfect image of peace, yet the hold he had on his phone was a telltale sign that he was far from pleased. He was not even phased by the violence around him, his focus merely on the whereabouts of his runaway sunshine. “I do not have the patience required to revive a dying man tonight.”

Yoongi paused, leering at the man who was slipping in and out of consciousness, before heeding his hyung’s statement. He did not want to test Jin’s patience tonight when it was apparent that he was barely holding on to his control.

He didn’t want to kill this man tonight. No. He planned on keeping him alive for years and years to come. He planned to give him hope, only for him to squash it away like he did his. As long as Yoongi shall live, then he shall suffer with him. As long as he was living in this fucked-up nightmare where you weren’t by his side, then so should he lived his very own crafted nightmare.

If he wasn’t happy, then why should anyone be?

---

“That phone looks like it wants to rest,” Jimin observed lightly as he and his hyung visited another crime scene that was definitely not because of them. It was three hours away from Seoul, the travel time giving him headache, similar to what Jimin was giving him. He watched as Yoongi ended the call before glaring at him.

“What about my phone, Jimin?”

“It looks like it wants to retire. Please, for the love of all that’s good, let me buy you a phone.”

“No.” It was the only thing he had of you.

“Whyyyyy do you love that phone so much, hyung? Our enemies would think our business is not doing good that you cannot even buy yourself a phone!”

Yoongi just shrugged his broad shoulders before walking out of the police line and through the busy market. He nodded at the policemen as they acknowledged him. His watchful eyes observed the chipper attitude of the marketgoers, chatting among themselves. He wondered how people could wake up this early and yet looked so alive. He hadn’t felt alive since that night. However, he thought that had you been here, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would. He would wake up at an ungodly hour for you.

He could hear Jimin chatter beside him as they navigated their way out of the busy street when it happened. Until it all turned into a white noise when it happened.

When he saw you.

He halted his brisk walk, his eyes following as you walked away yet again from him.

For a brief moment, he believed your eyes met. For a brief moment, he felt his heart beat again. Yet, your eyes seemed to hold no recognition for him as it only passed through him. You didn’t even stop. It was as though he was merely a stranger.

On the other hand, he thought that you looked different, but he knew in his dead heart that it was you.

Or was it his mind finally crumbling on him, reveling on his insanity?

He blinked once and you were gone.

Jimin, suffice to say, was shocked as his hyung ran back. He never saw him moved that fast, uncaring of the people who he would runover from his haste. His dark coat trailed behind him as he moved, a touch of desperation evident, compelling Jimin to reluctantly trail after him. Yoongi forcefully cleared a path, parting the crowd with determined strides. His singular focus was on reaching you, leaving his mind devoid of any other thoughts.

It was you, he was sure. It was his angel.

He was almost sure.

But when he reached where he saw you last, you weren’t there.

Jimin was breathless when he finally reached his hyung who was looking around the crowd like a lost child. His hands were on his waist as his desperate eyes searched for…who, exactly?

“What happened, hyu-“

“It was her, Jimin-ah. I saw her.”

He blinked, following his hyung’s shifting gaze. “Who?”

“My angel. She’s alive."

Latibule 2.II

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts yandere #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #yandere min yoongi #yandere agustd #yoongi x you #yandere yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fic

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misserabella · 7 months

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homecoming

hazel callahan x fem! reader.

summary; loving her was a sin, but if there was a hell, you’d go with her.

cw; +18 content, minors dni!, we’re in the 80s!, both reader and hazel are 18!!, inspired by homecoming from ethel cain, homophobia, angst, pining, both reader and hazel being in love, kissing, crying, hair pulling, mentions of the bible, god and hell, fingering (r! receiving)…

you’re staring at her, and she can’t be more beautiful. it hurts. everything about it hurts. her suit matches her beautiful eyes, and her hair looks so soft you just want to dip her fingers in and tug. tug her closer. until there is no distance in between the two of you. until you can breathe from her lips, until nothing else exists.

but you can’t. and it just breaks you apart like a porcelain doll smashed against the floor.

her name is just as beautiful as her. hazel. like the spring, like the earth and the green. and just like the season, she brings butterflies to your stomach, makes goosebumps bloom like flowers on your skin. and she’s so warm…

she’s a sin. but such a pretty one… maybe they all are. would it make a difference? everything else evaporated as she takes your hand, like the blood in your veins. you want the blue in her eyes to bathe you clean.

“dance with me?” she asks, as if you could resist, as if you weren’t on her knees and begging for her to a god that forbid this sickening love that drenches your bones.

and you nod, ‘cause there are no words you could muster. not when she’s this close, when her fingers are laced in between yours and her cologne is suffocating you.

you’re more patient now than you ever have been.

her smile is blinding, and you can just follow her to the mass of teenagers dancing in the middle of the room, even when your heart is about to burst out of your chest and your stomach is tying in knots.

you’re more brave now that you ever have been.

her hands are on your waist, and your arms are around her neck. and you’re dancing, slow. you feel like one of those princesses in the fairytales your mom would read you when you were just a mere kid, with glass heels and satin fluffy dresses, in between the arms of a prince. you wanted to smash the crystal below your feet and break it to pieces, dance bare feet on the remains of the happily ever after that you won’t get.

“you look beautiful.” she whispers, and your cheeks redden. your heart flips, and you wish this weren’t the way it all goes, but you can’t help but say it back.

“you too.” you stare into her eyes, shying when she smiles, pulling you closer against her chest. you swore you could feel the quickened heartbeat of her heart. hazel fears you do.

you could feel her breath on your neck, through your homecoming dress before she speaks again.

“can i tell you a secret?” you nodded, your soul blooming in a field of flowers when she spoke those four words against your ear. “i’m desperate for you.”

and even though you felt complete, you couldn’t help but want to push her away, punch her in the face. ‘cause your love was so big. you wanted it to be her problem too.

there, just inches away from her, from her plushy reddish lips…four left feet in a room, always all over her. why had you had to fall in love with her?

and you both knew this was how it goes. you both get too close ’til you fucking explode.

you only tugged her closer, burying your face on her neck to hide your blushing, your nerves, but mostly your fear. you couldn’t look her in the eyes, into this sin.

“don’t look now but everyone’s staring at us weird.” she said, and your breath hitched.

“is it just me or there’s no air in here?” you could feel your chest tighten, millions of eyes on you.

but you’d take it all. stand there and bleed under the knives their eyes sent you if that meant you could stay in between her arms just one more minute, one more second.

“just breathe. i’m right here.” she promised, holding you tight.

everyone was watching you. you couldn’t breath.

“can’t we just leave?” you muttered, and she nodded. you wanted to run away with her, run to where no one would know you, would see you.

she took your hand, and you followed as you two left the prom, the hallways of your high school felt sickeningly cold, yet she kept you warm, hand on hand.

it was all a blur as you two ran through them, eyes on the back of her head, on her flowy soft black hair, and before you knew you were inside the bathrooms, your back against the cold tiles as she looked into your eyes.

“tell me i shouldn’t.” she whispered against your lips, one of her hands cupping your cheek. your eyes met her lips.

your fist tightened on the jacket of her suit, knuckles turning white as you leaned closer to her, until your lips were hers and hers yours. you closed your eyes, relishing on this love that you were gifted, this cursed love that you couldn’t scape.

tears were soaking your eyes, ruining the makeup your mother had helped you put on. you were gutted. your hands found her hair, tugging. you wanted to hurt her. break her just like she had broken you.

“i wish you were a boy…” you muttered in a sob, and hazel’s eyes fell. she silently kissed you again. and you let her. they said love hurt, and you were ready to die for it.

the kiss only got deeper, so deep you were drowning. you wished there was no god. no heaven. no hell.

“i love you.” she muttered against your neck, softly kissing it, pressing you harder against the wall.

“don’t.” you begged. “please, don’t.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll go to hell for it. but i do.” tears were brimming her eyes as well.

you kissed her to quiet her. you needed her to hush it all. to not speak up this forbidden love that hung in between the two of you.

her tongue pushed inside your mouth and you moaned.

“please, hazel. make me forget…” you pleaded, starred eyes staring into her soul, and her shaky warm hands crept under the skirt of your dress, pushing aside your panties to feel how wet you’ve become for her. you cried out when you felt her fingers dive in between your slick folds, her fingertips tracing soft circles against your clit. you pulled on her hair, making her grunt.

“you’re so beautiful…” she repeated, if she could she would say it over and over again until she’d lose her voice. a whimper fell from your parted and swollen lips when she pushed her middle finger inside you, fucking you slowly. it was as if she were trying to make love to you. to convince you that this was no sin. just love.

you could believe her.

“i love you.” you cried on her shoulder, your hips pushing against her touch. “i love you so much it hurts.” she kissed your cheek, your forehead and your lips.

she hushed you, her free hand coming to softly brush your hair as she added a second finger, curling them and making you moan. “just focus on me, alright? just me, sweet girl. i’m right here, baby.” she kissed you once again, painfully slow and sweet. you could feel yourself rotting in it, vanishing as your orgasm approached, whimpers and whines being swallowed by hazel as she worked you towards it.

“hazel…” you called out for her.

“i know. i know. just let go for me, princess, let go.” you cried out as it hit you, your hips sputtering and your chest rising in a deep breath. you whole body shook at its intensity, and hazel made sure to help you ride it until it became too much for you. she pulled her fingers out of you just to push them into her mouth to taste you. you were heaven on her tongue.

you needed a taste.

and as you kissed her, holding her close to your heart, you whispered.

“if there’s a hell, i will go with you.”

and that’s a promise no god could break.

a/n; relatable

#hazel callahan angst #hazel callahan fic #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan bottoms #bottoms x reader #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #bottoms fanfic

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arminsumi · 8 months

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. . . 彡 🗑️ trash draft: goodboy façade.

NOTE: i present to u... nerd armin crumbs. i've sat on this thing for months, it was part of a longer fic that i had planned out but it was too much to write for me so i gave up on it lol

🔞 minors don't read or interact / n.sfw / smut / 18+ content

WARNINGS — stereotypes, m*sturbation, sending nxdes for a paid dare, mentions of alcohol but not being drunk, mean reader, min's fantasies include creampies, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

He was sick of it. Sick of seeing that red tint on your lips. Sick of the way his pants tightened up at your flirting. Sick of only having your lips around his dick in his fantasies.

And good god, he had an endless stream of fantasies. As far as his imagination's concerned, you've had sex with him every day.

His fist isn't enough. His daydreams of you aren't enough. He needs to really feel you, or he might actually explode.

But despite his overwhelming lust, his hands are tied behind his back, and his shirt collar is as pristine as his goodboy façade.

You know how you turn him on, in fact you're sorely aware. It's almost amusing to see him suffer.

He blushes up to his ears when you compliment him. His pants tighten when you murmur dirty jokes into his ear. He nearly chokes on air when you 'accidentally' press your thigh against his during Levi's lectures.

Your scent lingers on his T-shirt and he can't help but inhale them and start rubbing his hardening cock through his sweatpants.

He's focusing hard on the image of you pawing at his bulge, teasing him for being too wimpy to make a move himself. His fantasy grows bigger with each stroke of his hand, his pretty pink tip is flushed and throbbing underneath the grey fabric. The outline of his cock looks like something right out of a hentai, and the same goes for his moans.

He muffles his whimpers on his hand, imagining that it's your lips muffling the sound instead. He gives his aching cock a few squeezes through his sweatpants. He heard a rumor that you tend to tease like that.

Just as he gets into it, his phone erupts with dinging notifications. Right then, it's the most annoying sound on earth. He's torn right out of his fantasy of you.

The repetitive sound gets on his nerves, that is, until he checks who its from, and sees that it's you messaging him.

His jaw fucking drops at the message. His brain short circuits. Is his vision deceiving him? Is this real life right now? He's just about losing it.

Meanwhile, you're giggling over your phone screen with your girl friends. The time glares at you in the corner; 2:45 am.

Everyone at this party thinks that you're wasted, but that's one of the many talents you possess; acting drunk when actually you're as sober as a priest.

Your girl friends can't stop with their stupid, drunk giggles.

"Alright, I did it. Pay up." You smile evilly over at your favorite blond, Tori.

She groaned and pulled out her phone. Within a couple of minutes, you received a notification that your wish list was 'anonymously' purchased.

"Thanks, Tori, 'love you!" You coo and smile, pulling her in for a hug.

"I didn't think you'd actually do it..." She giggles to herself, "Armin is probably too prudish to stare at it too long, you know."

Your smile morphs into a cruel smirk. In this friend group, there is no debate about Armin's 'prudishness'. What's the problem with being a virgin at twenty-two years old? Nothing at all, there's nothing wrong with that; but your opinions have molded to fit the shape of your friends, haven't they? So you just agree that Armin is the biggest prude at your college.

And that poor boy, that poor boy, he's laying in bed freaking out over the fact you sent him a nude of yourself, meanwhile you're getting back to partying.

You did not just accidentally send him your best nude, there's no way.

What's worse than the lack of context is the fact you went offline right after he read the message. There's no way, he thought.

Armin can't even form a thought. His eyes are just glued to his screen. He subconsciously brought his face closer, and his hand dove under his pants.

There's no way it was an accident, he knows that, he's not an idiot. He's the valedictorian of your college.

Whimpers fill Armin's dorm room. His mind is racing. Heart palpitating. Your name falls off his lips while he approaches one of the best orgasms he's had in a while.

Before he knows it he's spurting hot ropes of his cum all over his shirt, the shirt that smells like your scent. Your name echoes off his walls, and in his mind he's just deliciously filled you up to the brim with his milky white release.

#🗑️ — trash #mdni #smut #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin x reader smut #armin arlert x reader smut #armin x fem reader #armin x f reader #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader

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annmarcus63 · 1 year

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Coën tells Vesemir that he saw something remotely large flying over the old stronghold to the west. Everyone but Geralt is thrilled. Apparently, they've been waiting for an opportunity like this, a chance to take Ciri with them to fight her very first beast as a witcher trainee.

Lambert, Cöen, Geralt, Ciri and Yen are getting ready to take off the very next morning when Geralt asks Jaskier if he wants to come too. Jaskier tries to hide his surprise under a nonchalant facade, but he can't fool the witcher. The bard accepts the offer not a second later. It seems that his strategy is working after all, Geralt never asked if he wanted to come on a hunt before. It seems, Jaskier thinks with a lump on his throat, that he was in fact the problem after all.

It's a short walk to the stronghold. Ciri observes the witchers track the beast, she's a fast learner. Jaskier watches too from an unobtrusive safe distance. Until all goes to hell. A royal archgriffin followed by its mate lands on the field taking everyone by surprise. Someone starts shouting orders, one archgriffin traps Lambert under its claws. It's a complete chaos. Suddenly the earth starts shaking, a roar swipes the air, Jaskier's blood goes cold when he sees a big ugly horned creature bolting from the trees. A chort. The new arrival takes everyone by surprise. Ciri ends up cornered by the chort, she has nowhere to go. Geralt is too far away; Yennefer is helping Lambert and Cöen; Ciri has lost her sword and the beast is about to bolt towards her. He acts without thinking. Nothing can't happen to her, he won't let it, even if it feels like he's running to his death. Geralt won't care, but he will if it's Ciri, he'd blame himself. It'd be Renfri all over again. He won't let it happen. Jaskier shouts with all his might while grabbing Ciri's sword from the grass where she dropped it. He grabs the sword with both hands and plunges it into the beast's rear. Not used to handling swords, his hands slip through the blade, he feels the skin of his palms opening, like butter under a hot knife, followed by a river of blood. Someone it's shouting his name; he thinks it may be Ciri. The chort roars annoyed and turns to the bleeding bard.

It happens in an instant. He is thrown through the air; a flash of pain explodes in his chest and grows to a cruel entity. He wishes for death.

He wakes up with a gasp followed by a groan of pain. It seems he's back at Kaer Morhen.

Not dead, then, he thinks with a hint of remorse.

Triss is there in an instant. The witchers summoned her to help heal him, apparently, he was (is) in a very horrifying shape. He asks her for Ciri and the others, she says everyone is well, just a few bumps and bruises. Jaskier feels relieved.

"You were dead for a couple of minutes" Jaskier doesn't know what to say so he settles for thanking her for saving him. He has two broken ribs and a few more cracked, breathing is an utterly painful experience, but Triss' concoctions help a little. His hands are bandaged, Triss says they need a lot more healing, but she reassures him that he'll be able to play again. In time, at least.

"I've never seen Geralt like that" she says suddenly "He- he said he couldn't feel you." Jaskier doesn't reply, he's rather immersed in the movement of her hands changing his chest bandages.

"I didn't know you two were..."

"No one knows." Says Jaskier feeling tired, body and soul.

As if sensing the sadness in Jaskier's heart, Triss adds “He was scared.”

"He would be fine."

"You're his soulmate, Jaskier. I don't think that he’d be fine.”

"I have never been his soulmate." The bard flinches at his own bitterness. "I've only been a friend. A traveling companion." He corrects.

“Jaskier…”

"He was never meant for me. Destiny must have got it all wrong, the mark on Geralt's arm should be Yennefer's not mine." He doesn't know why he's saying that to her. Maybe it’s the shock or it’s the pain, but he wants to tell someone, anyone, about another kind of pain he's been carrying all these years. He is crying, Triss hands him a tissue and smiles in a reassuring way.

Jaskier cries silently with intervals of gasps of pain, while Triss finishes his bandages and hands him a cup of fresh water. Jaskier thanks her in a quiet whisper.

"I couldn't make him happy anyway" he wipes the tears from his eyes and finds that his hands are shaking "She does. She really does."

"I never take you for the self-sacrificing type" says Triss holding one of his hands and squeezing. He wants to hug her, but refrains from doing so due to her broken ribs.

"I'm not" he clarifies "I'm just realistic. How could Geralt want someone like me when he has her?"

After a few seconds of silence she says "You are enough, Jaskier."

He wants to laugh, to disagree but refrains from it. He's only a bard, after all.

There's a knock at the door. They turn at the same time. It's Geralt, he's holding a bowl of stew in one hand and a single yellow flower on the other, and looking at Jaskier with an expression the bard can't quite decipher.

Jaskier feels his cheeks blushing. Fucking idiot, he must have heard his pathetic monologue.

"Can I talk to him?" He says to Triss. She stands and says "Of course." She leaves hurriedly, leaving the two staring at each other. Something heavy lies between them.

This is it, Jaskier thinks, this is where my heart will break for good.

Previous here

Next and final

As promised to dear @youknowwhoiam3490-blog (excited for your positive aggressive reading)

@mordoriscalling @dustbunnyprophet @chispy-rar-v2 @strangerzaiah

@help-help-i-need-an-adultlt

@janjan-the-ninth (not a 20 chapter fic but well…)

#geraskier #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #soulmates #as promised #here's more angst #drama #so much drama #sorry for the angst #unrequited feelings #for now

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v3nusxsky · 9 months

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Hiiii! So I have a lady Lesso request

Lady Lesso x drunk reader (either a student of age or teacher) whichever you are comfiest with

Reader is a very goofy drunk until they start to sober and then they are very emotional and they just keep explaining how in love with Lesso they are in front of the staff and beautiful they find her inside and out. How they want to marry her and live forever with her. Reader is also super snuggly and clingy when sobering up and pushing her away would make her cry.

Emotional Love

*Authors notes~a small break from the smut, not that I don't love it but this one's been sat here for a while now*

Trigger warnings~ drunk reader teacher of age x dean Leo pining reader trying to initiate sex under the influence

Prompt~ see ask^^^^*

A simple plan, a few drinks with some of the fellow Ever staff soon resulted into a game of never have ever. The rules were simple, if you did something you drink a shot, and then get to ask the next question. If there was multiple people who took the shot it was always passed to the left. It was no secret that you walked the line between good and evil, so it should've been obvious that you'd be the one who ended up the most drunk. Yet you still indulged the woman to play.

"Never have I ever wished for a child" Clarissa murmured watching as a few of the woman and yourself took a shot before taking her own. "Never have I ever had a sex dream of another woman" Anemore chose with a smirk, of course you would take a shot. "Never have I ever hated my subject" you smirked back at Emma as she took a shot. "Never have I ever had a personal conversation with Leonora" Helga whispered, her eyes stayed away from yours. In their male form Yuba and Leonora were sort of acquaintances. You took your shot alongside Clarissa. The game continued on much like that until you were very very drunk. "Oh! Let's do dares!" You giggled excitedly as if you'd just said the most amazing idea ever known to man.

"I'll go first, truth or dare Rissa?" Emma asked and naturally the dean choose truth. "Is it true you wish to join the schools together as one?" A silent nod was all she was given. "Truth or dare professor Espada" a small pause before "dare" was whispered. "I dare you to show us where your most hidden dagger is on your body." Standing up the more masculine woman pulled a dagger from the middle of her bra. "Truth or dare Y/n" you were so far gone you honestly went for what you thought was the better option, a dare. "I dare you to go and find Leonora and call her min söta tik." "Min söta tik" you repeated before standing up and leaving to find Leonora.

On the walk between the schools the air seemed to be harsher than before, instead of caressing your face it was now whipping it. Only then did it really hit you how drunk you truly were. Giggling as you tried to walk in a straight line which only resulted in you toppling over. Everything seemed to have you in a burst of giggles. The moon appears to have a face on it and you were happily having a conversation with the moon about why it was so yellow. Why yellow? Didn't it know yellow was not the way to go? No wonder why everyone says it's made of cheese if it wants to look yellow.

Arriving to Leonora's chambers you didn't even bother to knock, just barrelling into her room with a newfound confidence. But that very thing disappeared as soon as the redhead spoke up. "Dove?" Was all it took for you to burst into tears. "By the gods? What on earth is wrong?" She asked but her tone seemed to make you cry more. "I just I love you so much, you don't even know I exist! You're so pretty. On the inside. I wanna get inside you and stay foreverrrrr! Buy you don't know I want that. You're so beautiful Nora. M wan marry you and wake up with you next to me. Gods Nora I wanna make you feel so good, I could you know? I could make you feel like every colour of the rainbow, every star exploded in the galaxy just by my tongue in your-" your rant was cut off by the red head. "Woah woah dove you're drunk, you don't have a sound mind right now, you probably don't feel those things love" she rationalised but that made you sob, "I do feel them! I want you! I want to fuck you, marry you and love you! Why don't you want me?" Your tears and sobs were now bothering the woman, she hates to see you cry, let alone be the cause for it.

"Come here dove" she demanded opening her arms to you in an offer. One you immediately took, settling on her lap as her arms snaked around your waist. "Shhh see I'm here okay? But you're so drunk darling and I'd much rather have this conversation with you sober" she whispered to you hoping to soothe you with her presence. "M not drunk! Drunk can't go this" you explained with a goofy smile before attacking her neck with your lips. A hand trying to trail between your bodies only for Leonora to stop it on its way. "Darling, not while you're drunk. You're to special for that dove."

"min söta tik" you mumbled to her being absolutely star struck by her eyes, you look so adorable that she almost missed what you said to her then. "Pardon?" She replied with shock evident in her tone. "min söta tik, they said I had to say it? Is it bad Nora? I don't know what it means" you explained and Leonora knew she'd be having a word with Clarissa in the morning to discuss this. "It's not so nice darling, so we don't say it again okay? You're a sweet girl and that's why I love you." You snuggled into the woman's body in response, not processing that you'd just called her "my sweet bitch" but she was comforting and warm and that just made you wanna get closer and closer to her.

"Dove, you need to hop off my lap darling, my knee isn't liking the position" Lesso whispered to you only for you to start crying again. "I want stay. Warm!" You sobbed trying to cling to the woman but in your drunken state you interrupted it as her trying to get rid of you, why would she push you away? Doesn't she believe your feelings for her? Doesn't she care? Does she care for you like you do her?" You stiffened as your mind went round these thoughts on a loop. "Hey you, what's going on in that pretty kind of yours? I just thought we could snuggle in bed? You know Nora has a bad leg dove, it was cramping up so if I lay down and stretch it I can still hold you" she explained as you sniffled all tear eyed. "Mkay" you mumbled and allowed her to lead you to the bed, magically changing you and herself into some sleep wear before allowing you to come and snuggle up to her chest. "Sleep my dove we can talk in the morning about this emotional love."

Word count~ 1272

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #anon requested #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #fanfic #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso x you #lady leonora lesso x reader

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chuuyaswifeandhoe · 4 months

Text

You're not saving me

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader

Warnings: angst, swearing, mention of death and rape, suicidal actions

If I missed anything, please let me know

Your eyes were empty while looking at the bodies in front of you. You heard inside your head every plea for mercy, every insult, every cry for a saviour, every thought of the person who pulled the triggers, of the ones who killed with their own hands. What a curse to be able to hear the thoughts of everyone around you. You sighed and turned to face Chuuya, your partner for this mission.

‘’They did not know anything about the location, their last thoughts were about their children or about how they did not deserve this’’. Your monotone voice would not let slip any emotions of your own. But were you having emotions other than desperation for a quick death?

‘’Tsk, what a waste of our time’’. What was the boss thinking when organising this shit? I’m so tired of these motherfuckers trying to steal from us. Can’t we just…

‘’Can you please be quiet? Your thoughts are way too loud Nakahara’’. You snapped with annoyance. Unfortunately you did not hear only Chuuya’s thoughts, also the ones of all the other subordinates who were around you. ‘’Fuck’’. You could feel the migraine coming up. There was a reason why you stayed inside in a very isolated room. You put your hands over your ears in a pathetic attempt to make all the voices inside your head shut up.

Chuuya looked at you puzzled. He knew to some extent that your ability was hearing the other people’s thoughts and that you could not control it yet very well so you were resident of a very particular room in the mafia’s headquarters. But he never experienced going on a mission with you for more than an hour. You usually popped up at the end, using your pretty mind to listen to the tortured prisoners' thoughts then retreated right back to your cave. . Today was special from this point of view and he definitely did not understand what was going on with you.

‘’Hey, what’s wrong with you?’’

You groaned listening to his internal monologue about your powers and how he did not understand what was going on or how to help you.

‘’I’m around too many people right now and my head feels like it is going to explode.’’ You turned on your heels and went straight to the car. ‘’My job is done here, and I’m not cleaning up the mess your incompetent subordinates did’’. You hoped that one of them would get angry and accidentally put a bullet through your skull. Once in the car, the turmoil inside your head got quieter, but definitely did not stop. You turned on the radio, turning it on the highest volume, helping to muffle all the voices you were hearing inside your head: Who does she think she is; What a bitch; With the first chance I catch her I’m going to..‘’WHAT THE HELL L/N?’’ Chuuya’s voice brought you back to earth, as he lowered the volume of the radio. ‘’Why did you turn the radio on the highest volume? Do you want us to get caught by the government? Do you have a death wish?’’

‘’Yes.’’ Your straightforward answer caught Chuuya off guard. ‘’Not the government part, the death wish part’’ you felt the need to clarify your answer.

‘’ I swear you resemble Dazai a little too much’’.

‘’ Thank you’’ a smile graced your lips/

‘’ It was not a compliment’’ Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows.

‘’ For me it definitely is. Please don’t take this road, it is way too busy’’, you pointed to a more secluded option.

‘’ What’s the deal with you?’’ Chuuya spared you a glance before returning his attention back to the road.

It was not a conversation you were in the mood for. Hearing the questions inside his pretty head made you reluctant to respond, it would have opened the door to memories you did not want to remember and also it would have made you focus only on his thoughts and it would consume a lot of your energy.

‘’Not knowing the colleagues you work with it’s not a very good sign, Chuuya-san’’. You watched in the corner of your eyes how his face contorted in a very unpleasant grimace. His internal monologue definitely matched his expression, you noticed.

‘’Oh cut the bullshit and you know what I’ve meant, you’re reading my mind aren’ you?’’ A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and Chuuya’s heart fluttered while he tried by all means to stop any thought from forming.

“Is no use Chuuya, I still hear your internal monologue. You don't know about the deal I have with Mori?” You were curious. You could've sworn that everyone in the mafia was informed about it.

“Deal? What are you talking about?” His thoughts were suddenly all over the place, so you know he's telling the truth. You sighed thinking if telling him was a good idea. Maybe, maybe if you tell him, he could actually help you?

“As I assume you already know, my ability is “To be or not to be?”, meaning I can read minds. The problem is that I can't control it. So I hear everyone’s thoughts, every little insignificant thing, every minute of the day, in any place I am, with no idea what the safe distance is for me not hearing anything. So in my head, I rarely hear my own thoughts because I hear all the other ones.’’ The last sentence was bitter, for you this was not an ability but a hex. One that you could not escape. You took in a deep breath trying to ignore the voice of the woman who was begging his husband to stop beating her, or the child who was screaming internally that it’s not his fault. ‘’Do you know why I joined the Port Mafia, Chuuya?’’ It was not a question you want him to answer, you look back in front of you, at the road Chuuya was driving on, the orange light of a magnificent sunset making everything prettier ‘’To find the person whose ability was to put a stop to all the other abilities.’’

‘’Dazai’’ Chuuya murmured.

‘’Exactly, the only issue is that I arrived a few years too late and he was no longer in the mafia. And unfortunately for me, Mori was not going to let me leave that easily so we made a deal. I help him with the gang issue and he’ll let me join the most dangerous missions where I can get killed easily in a fire gun exchange. What the motherfucker forgot to mention is that his executive to which I was going to be assigned to was the most skilled person in the entire fucking mafia and would not let a bullet even come in my way, not to mention go through my skull!’’. You raised your tone towards the end unintentionally, but your frustration was clear.

‘’What? You’re pissed that you got paired up with me?’’ Chuuya suddenly hit the brakes, stopping the car.

‘’Kinda’’ you huffed.

‘’Why? Because I’m protecting you!? Are you dumb or something?’’ Chuuya was now fully facing you, fuming.

You let a smile grace your lips. His internal rage was so loud in your head.

‘’Chuuya, you’re not protecting me, you’re only prolonging my suffering. You do not understand what it means to not know which one of the voices inside your head is yours. You do not know what it means to hear the thoughts which go through the head of your victims in their last moments. To hear a teenage girl asking herself if another outfit would have saved her from being brutally murdered after being raped. Or the thoughts of the murderer on how easy fresh meat gets sliced by his precious knife. Or being in a crowd and all you can hear is noise in your head and it feels like your skull is going to explode. Judgements, prayers, indecent thoughts towards strangers or myself. Fuck, you know how hard is to get through the meeting your having with all your lower rank subordinates is? How I hear in my head how they’d bang me if they have the chance or what a slut I must be for being put directly under your supervision? Or being a five years old who did not know to explain what is inside her head, hearing her parents resent her birth?’’ At this point tears were streaming down your cheeks, without you noticing until you looked towards two sad pairs of eyes.

A gloved hand made his way towards your face and slowly wiped out your tears.

‘’What can I do for you?’’ Chuuya’s voice was unsure. You heard his thoughts, and how he wants to help you, how he wants to change something in your life, he's so sure there could be a solution. You put your palm over the hand which was still cupping the side of your face, giving in to his touch, giggling at his pure intentions. Then you look at him with pleading eyes.

‘’Let me die, Chuuya’’.

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuyaswife #angst #chuuyaswifeandhoe #chuuyaxreader #chuuya angst #chuuya x you #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara

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supercorpkid · 3 months

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Powergirl Should Die

Supergirl. Powergirl. B!D. Kara Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Alex Danvers x BabyDanvers!Reader, Lena Luthor, Winn Schott.

Word Count: 2550.

Porwergirl should die. Someone should kill her.

The suit is skin tight, it clings so forcefully onto you as if it's trying to become part of you. But this other skin, just simply doesn’t fit right over your bones.

There is a huge House of El crest over your chest, in its golden glory. It weighs down on your skin, heavy and sacred. It should help you feel at ease. It doesn’t. It feels like it’s burning your skin like a branding iron.

Kryptonian?

Yes.

Super powers?

Yes.

You’re a superhero. Next, please!

Kara stands tall next to you, hand on your shoulder. “Would you look at that,” your sister smiles brightly at you. “Mother and father would be so proud of you, mini me.”

Kara has called you that your whole life, but you never felt so little as you do right now. You've also never felt so much like Kara. Crumpled up inside this supersuit to fit someone else’s dream. You don’t think your parents would be very proud of you now.

“Kara, this feels odd.” You try to lift the suit from your skin, that is so snuggled up it barely leaves you room to breathe. “I-I look like you.”

“I know!” She proudly squeaks. “I asked Winn to only change the colors. How do you feel about the white, red and blue?”

“Like a walking American flag.” You wince at the thought. You like the white, it’s a little more sober than the blue in Kara's suit, it also reminds you of the vest you used to wear back in Krypton. The red cape feels like they've ripped a piece of Kara’s and placed it on your back. The high blue boots are uncomfortable and the matching gloves are just plain stupid.

“You certainly don’t look like one.” Alex chimes in from behind you, and you turn around, sick of the sight of you in the mirror. “Honestly sis, I like this suit. I think it might be even better than Kara’s.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, mine has history.”

“Yours is a copy of Superman’s.”

“That’s what I mean, history.”

You watch your sister’s bickering with faint attention because they both would never say how ridiculous you look with this dull, hideous, comical outfit.

But it didn’t matter how foolish you looked, or how stupid you felt. There was no way out of this. Kara said you looked perfect and Alex agreed. J’onn, who’s been the closest thing to a father to you on this planet, gave you a stiff smile when asked what he thought. He could read your mind, remember? That’s what he thought about it. And Winn was just over the moon with his creation. No way out. From that day on, you’re Powergirl.

It hasn’t been long since you started being Powergirl. You’re still not the most prominent face of the Supers, thank God for that. You do the easy jobs while Kara takes on the real bad guys. You follow her lead. Obey to what Alex tells you to do over the comm that is permanently stuck in your ear. As if you couldn’t hear her from miles and miles away.

But with every passing day, it becomes even more obvious to you that you were really not cut out for this superhero life. Not good at it. Not happy with it. Not fit for it.

The very opposite of Kara, actually. Because Kara fits everywhere and with everyone. She fits perfectly in her suit, with her alias. Perfectly at her job at CatCo, as a news reporter. And ever since she landed on Earth she created her perfect family, story, life on this planet.

You, on the other hand, wish everyday you were still at Krypton. You are well aware that if you stayed behind, that if your parents hadn't made Kara snuggle your smaller form against her own body on that pod, you would have exploded. You wouldn't be alive today. And you wish people knew you don't want to be dead, you just wish your planet hadn't exploded in the first place.

Sure Kara feels the same. Yet she makes a name for herself and gives back to this planet that took you both in so willingly, that gave you both powers because of its sun. Kara is just different.

"Mother would want us to use our powers for good." She would whisper to you in the dark, whenever the Danvers would tell you to not use your powers. Whenever they asked you to fit in completely. "Father spent so much time trying to stop our planet from deteriorating, don't you think that if he had powers he would use them to make that happen?"

She would ask you questions that didn't feel like questions. That required no answers at all. Kara would tell you what she knew about them, use them as arguments to explain to you (convince even) why you had to become a superhero too.

And you would lay there in the dark, after your sister was asleep, looking at the long dead stars, and wondering whether she was right. Whether that was your parents' plans all along or just a sad coincidence.

"Powergirl." You hear Kara's voice early in the morning while you're still trying to brew yourself a cup of coffee. "I need you for a second."

"It's too early in the morning and I have to get ready for work." You press on your comm to answer. "Can't you deal with it alone?"

"Hm, no. I need you to come here now."

You let out a huge sigh, trying to ease your own mind. Coffee will wait, you guess. You're out of your pj's, into your suit, and out of the house in a blur. You stop next to Kara while she stares at a billboard.

"What?" You can't help the harshness of your tone as you see no emergency around her.

Kara says nothing. Only points at the billboard and you finally take note of it. Written in large red colors, the sentence: Powergirl should die.

Huh.

"It seems that you have an enemy." Kara says when time enough has passed for you to read the sentence over a few times. "Don't worry, we'll catch them."

Cute. It's your first thought. It's almost like someone wrote you a love letter, au contraire.

Kara makes an effort to tear it all down, destroy the billboard before anyone sees it. You don't help her, stuck inside your own mind, replaying the words in your head.

"No need to worry." She assures you, hand on your shoulder to get you out of your trance. "No one will do you any harm, mini me. I'd never let anyone hurt you."

"Thanks, Kar." You look at your watch on your wrist. "Work calls." And so you fly home.

You try to lodge that sentence in the back of your mind. You don't wanna seem stressed out, even though you are. But showing how actually worried you are about it, and with the fact that someone is coming for you, it's inconceivable.

Kara would worry. Alex would stress. Ooof, you can see it all playing out. Sleepovers and excuses for you to miss work and hang at the DEO headquarters so they can keep an eye on you, until you're feeling suffocated.

No, no. You can't go through that. It's been a while since you and your sisters shared a bedroom. You don't think you three can do that again now that you're grown ups.

It happens again. You don't see it, but you hear the agents commenting about it, a couple days later. They get muted the second you fly in the DEO, which is not only annoying but foolish. You do have super hearing after all.

"So, where was it this time?" You ask Alex, while she tries to avoid looking at you.

"Where's what?" She tries, and you furrow your brows.

"Winn, put it on the monitor." You ask coming closer. Winn looks at Alex as if asking for permission, but you don't give her time to deny him. "Come on, I heard the agents. I'm still Kryptonian even if I'm not a Super."

Winn huffs. "On the tallest building of National City." The photo goes up on the large TV in front of you, and you swallow deep.

Powergirl should die.

"Y/N," Alex talks in a low tone so the agents around can't hear her. "it's not personal."

"Looks personal." You cross your arms, turning your back at the TV. "Someone wanting me dead sounds like it's as personal as it can get."

"Supergirl is looking into it, I promise we'll catch whoever did this."

"Alex, please." You pass her on your way to the training room. "You know damn well my favorite thing about you is that you don't lie."

"You've lost too many punching bags." You hear a voice behind your back, and you breathe deep before turning around.

"Just training a little." You look at the number of destroyed bags by your feet and decide that it's true, there's too many, even though that's what they're here for.

"Alex told me about the message." Kara approaches you slowly, trying to test the territory. She can see your distress, but doesn't know the extent of it. And she won't, because you're definitely going to fake it.

"Yeah, tall building. They got the writing off quickly, though. So no major problems."

"Honey," Kara's voice is even sweeter now, if that's possible. "I'll catch them. I'll be patrolling tonight. No one's coming for you."

"I'm not worried." You smile at your lie, or half of lie for what it's worth. Knowing that Kara will be patrolling the city helps. You know your sister would never let anything bad happen to you. And it's very unlikely that anyone on this planet could easily defeat two Kryptonians.

Kara also smiles, and brings you into her arms for a hug. And you breathe out, calmer. Kara's arms have kept you safe from many perils. Spaceship lost in space, new planet, new school, new job. Surely she can keep you safe again.

You don't feel safe, though, when you wake up to a familiar voice far away. You rub the sleep from your eyes, well awake, paying close attention to a conversation you weren't invited to be a part of.

"Alex, I went around the city, there's no new wri-"

"Kara? What was that?"

There it was, in big red letters the sentence that has been haunting you for days. Powergirl should die. And under it new words' been added, someone should kill her.

"I found new writing." Kara's voice comes a second later. "It's worse this time."

"Take a picture so we can compare the handwriting and get back here."

"I have to clean this up." But before Kara even has the chance to, you're flying next to her in front of the L Corp building. "Y/N! What are you doing here?"

You move closer to the building to investigate. The ink is still wet, it wasn't done too long ago. You look around trying to find cameras. It's Lena's building, you're sure there are cameras everywhere. You spot one with a direct view.

"Mini me-" Kara tries.

"Go to work Supergirl, I'll deal with this. Someone wanting me dead is my problem." It's always been your problem, you are aware. But Kara promised you, you had nothing to worry about. Promised she would patrol the city. Promised she would protect you. And yet, here it is, in big block red letters.

"But-"

"I got it, Kara. Can you just believe in me?"

"Y/N, you know I do. I just wanna help."

"I don't need help." You clench your jaw, tired of being treated like a little girl. Like a mini Kara instead of your own person. "I'm Kryptonian too."

Cheap shot? Maybe. Definitely. You throw it, anyway.

You clean the writing then fly home to suit up. You can't face Lena without it. Another secret that only makes you hate your secret identity as hard. Lying to your friends, sneaking out, it's all stressing and there's literally no reward high enough worth of all this.

"Lena."

"Oh shit." Lena's hand goes to her chest after her obvious scare. You can hear her heart almost beating out of her chest. "It's too early for bad news, Powergirl."

"Trust me, I agree with that." You breathe out, trying to give her a smile. It comes out flat. "I was wondering if I could look into one of your surveillance cameras. There was some writing on this building this morning, I would very much like to know who's responsible."

"Writing? I - I didn't see anything when I came in."

"Good. I cleaned it as fast as possible." You point at her computer and she breathes deep as if she is agreeing with you.

It doesn't take long for the images to be up, and you two to be carefully reversing the filming until Lena sees you and Kara flying in front of it, and read the words herself. She looks up to you and quirks up an eyebrow, in question.

"Currently unsure if someone is threatening me or if this is just general knowledge being passed on."

"People don't want you dead, you're a superhero!" Lena argues. "Maybe Lex, but he's currently serving his time."

"Clearly not everyone agrees with you." You point back at the words on her computer.

"It's awful." She admits, even though she doesn't fully trust you or Kara yet. "Wait, wait. There."

You can't see a thing. One minute is there, the other isn't. You slow down the images, trying to see any detail. Lena soon takes over and slows down as much as she can. That's when you see it, just a tiny flash of red. You hold your breath. Thankfully, Lena hasn't noticed it.

"How's this possible? There's no one."

"Seems that I'll have to patrol the city myself tonight." You're almost leaving Lena's office when you turn around one more time. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Luthor."

"I was barely of any help at all." Lena points at the computer as proof and you give her a smile.

"Au contraire, darling. You showed me everything I needed to see." You wink at her, then fly out.

You march inside the DEO, positive on your plan. No one is talking you out of it, that's for sure.

Winn tries to argue that it is illogical for you to just give yourself to your enemy. He gets ignored. Alex argues that as a DEO agent she can't let you do this, and as your older sister she would be insane to leave you alone in this situation. You don't budge. Kara pulls out the big guns, her promise to mother and father, her duty as your protector, how you're the only connection she still has with Krypton, her love for you and so on. Her cries fall on deaf ears.

So at night, you fly around National City watching and studying everyone in it, even though you know you should only be looking for one person. One person with superspeed, a red cape and a big motive.

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #kara x reader #reader insert #baby danvers #alex danvers #alex x reader #powergirl #supergirl imagine

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distort-opia · 10 months

Text

In other news I re-read Superman: Birthright and I am now the living equivalent of the MAN HOLD ON. HOLD ON A SECOND meme :) There's... a specific aspect to their dynamic in this comic that makes me want to just. Gnaw off my own arm.

Lex and Clark had been friends during highschool, after Lex moved to Smallville, and it was because of Clark. Clark saw this person who was so frighteningly intelligent and "other" compared to his peers, incapable of hiding all the ways in which he was different. He saw Lex being so impulsive, prone to mood swings and lacking the emotional intelligence (at that point) needed to know when to intervene and when to retreat, visibly set him apart. Meanwhile, Clark had managed to assimilate, to make himself unnoticed, but on the inside he felt like he was apart-- so when Lex rolls into town, it's almost heartbreaking how fast he becomes fascinated and attached.

And yet there's this inevitable barrier. Lex talks about feeling like he doesn't belong on this Earth, about searching for alien life among the stars; essentially, looking for a place to belong. And Clark painfully relates to that, except he can't say it, he can't divulge the secret of who he really is, because of his promise to his father. He keeps seeking Lex out and trying to help him as much as he can, but he can only do it from the position of an outsider in Lex's eyes. But then Lex holes himself up in a lab for weeks, with Clark obsessively checking in on him and attempting to talk to him... leading to The Incident. Aka, the device Lex had been building was powered by a Kryptonite shard that had led Lex to Smallville, in his quest for alien life. So for the first time ever, Clark feels weakness and pain so intense he can barely speak, as a result of his exposure to it; and Lex, in his erratic state, mistakes it for fear. He throws Clark out.

And what's driving me bonkers about this is that Clark had decided to go there to tell Lex about his powers, about him not being of this Earth. Going against his Pa's wishes, because he couldn't bear the thought of Lex fully unraveling. He never gets the chance to, because Lex is blinded by his experiences and sees the worst in Clark's expression. In Lex's mind, he'd just showed Clark something so important to him, and Clark had balked just like everyone else.

And again. Kryptonite. Clark's a kid. He's feeling the worst thing he's ever felt, in the presence of that rock. But he still pounds onto the door, tears streaming down his face, for Lex to let him back in-- where the freaking meteorite is!

[gestures speechlessly for a second] I mean. I don't know about you but that makes me want to eat drywall. Clark doesn't care about the kryptonite, doesn't ask himself why he's feeling like this or doesn't even think about getting away, he's just desperately trying to fix it. To make sure Lex doesn't believe Clark hates him, asking for forgiveness, when it isn't even his fault. But of course, the power grid explodes, and Clark is too weakened to do anything about the ensuing fire. Lex is greatly injured in it, and his father dies. It's the last time Clark sees him, before they meet as adults.

The horribly tragic irony of Lex having come to Smallville to find proof of alien life, and then that very proof finding him, but Lex never knowing... it's just so compelling. While Clark didn't manage to tell Lex the truth, Lex also never suspected it, not even when a machine he'd built for detection purposes pointed at Clark. He immediately assumed it was broken and threw a fit about it. Lex wasn't able to look past Clark's "disguise" back then because he was so caught up in being angry at the world, and he never managed to see Clark enough to not assume the very worst of him at that critical moment. He never managed to trust Clark enough, and assumed the worst possible scenario when all Clark had been feeling was pain.

AND THEN. They meet as adults. And oh my god, it just must've hurt, the way Lex didn't recognize Clark at all. It doesn't even really matter if Lex actually did remember Clark Kent, but he just pretended he didn't to keep in line with erasing all of the evidence of him ever being in Smallville, because it's still a rejection of who Clark is. It declares him as insignificant. And then Lex meets Superman, and poses the exact same question: do I know you? Not even now does he manage to see Clark; not even when he's a super-powered, othered being, in his "alien" form. He doesn't make any connection between kid Clark Kent's reaction to the meteorite and the way Superman reacts to the kryptonite.

He never really realizes that he's hurt and alienated and let down the person he's been looking for all along, and that is the reason for the look of disgust and disappointment Superman levies at him, and which Lex resents to the point of orchestrating Superman's downfall. Once again, it's a look from Clark that sends everything crashing down, that Lex interprets his own way without hesitation.

AND YET! Mark Waid just keeps fucking going! And yet, despite Lex trying to destroy Superman, he's the one to actually tell Clark who he is. It's because of Lex's invention that Clark finds out what his planet was named, who his parents were, what his family was like-- it's Lex who inadvertently gives Clark something he'd been looking for all his life. Both Lex and Clark had been looking for the place they belonged, and then Lex ends up delivering that to Clark while trying to kill him.

"You weren't always, Lex." But Lex doesn't know what he's talking about! He doesn't know what he's ruined, and it's so sad, both for him and for Clark-- who all along, had just wanted to share who he truly was with Lex and to help him, but Lex... never sees it.

#so many THOUGHTS #this also puts Rebirth comics in a new light for me #Clark being so deadset on not trusting Lex's attempts to go good #and also the clear... projection going on with Bruce #this is also changing my perspective on S/uperbat a bit #long post #clex #clex meta #superman: birthright #superman #clark lent #lex luthor

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jpitha · 1 month

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Between the Black and Grey 34

First / Previous / Next

Kerry knew better than to duck when the vase was thrown. Luckily, it struck her shoulder instead of her head. Even more luckily, it managed to snag on one of the buttons of her uniform so it shattered. She worried what would have happened to her if it had just bounced off harmlessly.

"Pick that up!" The Empress screamed.

Kerry bent low and started scooping up the pieces of vase. It was from Earth, and easily a thousand years old. Priceless. The Imperial bedroom was floor to ceiling packed with more gimcrackery than Kerry had ever seen. Most of it was worth more than she'd ever see in her life. A broken priceless vase was only a drop in the proverbial priceless bucket. Another attendant bent down to help her, but the Empress snapped her fingers.

"No, not you. She has to do it on her own."

Saying sorry with her eyes, the other attendant stood back up and remained at attention. This had been going on all day. All week really. Everyone at the palace was walking on eggshells. The Empress was in a mood most foul.

Empress Meredith The 3rd was not having a good year. Early on, she lost three Super Dreadnoughts to something. Something nobody has been able to properly explain, even with high amounts of encouragement. The only thing anyone knows is that Dreams of Hyacinth was destroyed and took out the other two Supers - her three oldest ones! - on the final approach to Minaren. The damned K'laxi - useless, all of them - have no idea who did it, no person or group has stepped forward to claim responsibility, nothing. Ships don't explode for no reason, she shouted at her Admiralty, but they had the temerity to explain that yes, sometimes they do. Starships are large, complicated machines and even with the highest quality maintenance - something that may not have been carried out at all times (the Admiral with a known death wish stated this) - they can explode for no reason.

The K'laxi had even questioned a frigate that was passing by at the time, but they didn't see anything, and the K'laxi didn't think it was worth their time to execute or even imprison the captain of the frigate. They asked them if they had seen anything - of course they hadn't - and let them go on their way. Useless!

If that was not bad enough - and it was - Meredith discovered 5 weeks ago that she didn't have a connection with the Nanites anymore. She could implore them to answer her questions all she wanted; silence was their only reply. She tried to use her Voice on her attendants and while they rushed to obey her whims, they did not do it with the absolute robotic precision they used when they were Voiced. So far only her most inner circles of handmaidens, attendants, valets and other hangers on knew. Her Admirals had no idea and none of the Venusian nobility knew, and she was keenly aware that it had to stay that way.

She stood up from her couch and paced her room. This was supposed to be easy! You walk around, you give some orders, you open a new hospital or school, smile and wave for the sensorium and that was it. Then back to the Palace for some well-earned sex with whoever was her flavor of the week and a big dinner. She was facing the impossible. Intrigue. Politics. The Unknown.

One of the handmaidens standing to the side of her bed held out a goblet, half full of a burgundy liquid. Meredith snatched at the wine and drank greedily. She knew how to sip demurely, but behind closed doors she could be herself. Belching, she handed the crystal goblet - also worth more than the handmaiden made in a whole year - back and waited for it to be refilled. This time she drank it more slowly as she paced.

"They're not listening. They can't hear me? They won't hear me? What's going on? I've been a good Empress. I've done all the right things. Kerry!" Kerry's head snapped up and she stood rapidly. The pieces of vase in her uniform shirt lifted up like a basket. "What am I doing wrong?"

"I'm sure you're not doing anything wrong, Empress."

"Then why did they leave?!" Kerry and the others saw then that Meredith wasn't just furious. She was deathly afraid. As if for the first time, she saw Kerry's uniform. "Why is your uniform like that, Kerry? What are you holding?"

"Er, it's the vase you threw at me. You ordered me to pick it up."

Meredith blinked back tears. "And you did? Did the Voice work?"

"Ah, no Empress. I was following regular orders that you gave me."

"Why did you do that?"

Kerry blinked. "Because... this is my job?" She said very slowly.

Empress Meredith stood very slowly. The four women in the room watched her as she strode to the main entrance to her bedchamber, and locked the door. She strode to the servants' entrance and locked that door. She lifted up her mattress and pressed a palm against the lock in the center, and it beeped happily at her.

She walked into the pantry and brought out 4 bottles of wine. A red, from the mountains of Parvati, said to be some of the best in the Galaxy. In the cabinet opposite the wine cooler, she took out 4 more crystal goblets.

She set the wine and the goblets on the table and gestured towards the woman who was pouring the wine earlier, Tina. She shrugged and opened the first bottle with a musical pop. The cork was made of Parvatian corkwood and was fragrant. Empress Meredith the 3rd, leader of Sol, Luna, the Outer Planet Alliance as well as her Colonies and Protector of The K'laxi poured five glasses of wine.

"Kerry, throw that out. Ladies. I need your help. You four are some of the only people who know about my... condition. What do I do?" She gestured towards the wine.

Tina grabbed a glass first and took a sip. "Well, can you tell anyone else?"

Kerry took one next. "No, she can't. The minute she tells someone else she's dead. If people find out the Empress That Can't Be Disobeyed can be, they'll kill her and put someone else on the throne."

"Or worse." Alina, the woman opposite Kerry at the bedchamber door pipes up and takes a glass.

"Is it really that bleak?" Emery takes the last glass of wine and sips it demurely. "Surely everyone in the Nobility and Admiralty won't want to kill you. You must have some people who are loyal to you utterly."

Meredith takes the last glass and flops onto her bed. She pats the mattress and the women sit. "There are some families that are completely loyal, but it's more out of inertia than any kind of love of the Empress. Tch, if the K'laxi found out they'd declare independence before the return ping confirming the beacon was received."

"Okay, let's look at it another way: How do you know they're gone? Other than not having The Voice?" Bruised shoulder aside, Kerry felt sympathetic. Meredith was in the middle of having her world crumble around her.

"I can't hear them."

The girls eyes' widen. "The Nanites talk to you?"

"They used to yeah. Based on how Mom spoke of it, they talked to her more than me. Grandmother complained that they basically never stopped talking."

"What do they say?" Kerry finishes off her wine, but doesn't go for more. Meredith pours her another glass anyway.

"Ugh, they always are trying to tell me what to do. They have ideas. They want us to build more Gates. I keep telling them the wormhole generators work better, but they're like "no we need more Gates." Meredith sighs and rolls her eyes. "They're very boring."

"They want more Gates?"

"Yeah, I think it's how they get into our dimension or something. They tried to explain it to me once, but I practically fell asleep."

"Wait." Alina pauses with the wineglass partway to her lips. "If they use the Gates, what would happen if you went to a Gate? You could talk to them directly!"

"And leave the palace?" Meredith rolls around on the bed, dramatically groaning with her arm over her eyes. "It's so far, and I'd have to ride in a ship, and I'd have to deal with a wormhole link and, and, and..."

Tina's eyes flick to Kerry and Alina and Emery's. They return her gaze.

"Is that worse than others finding out you lost your powers though? We'll never tell, but it'll get out eventually."

"What if just the five of us went!" Emery is animated and on her third glass of wine. "You could take a small ship and just us. Tell everyone you're on some kind of Empress Pilgrimage. Link over to wherever the closest Gate is, talk to the Nanites and come home. Maybe do some light shopping at whatever station is closest."

Meredith raises her arm off her eyes and looks at Emery. "That's an incredibly dangerous idea."

Emery's face falls and she tilts her chin low. "I'm sorry Em-"

"I love it!"

The four handmaidens look shocked.

"It's so stupid! It's so dangerous! It's so exciting. Let's go. Right now?" She takes a whole bottle of wine and starts drinking directly from it.

Kerry sputters. "Now? How are we going to leave?"

Meredith polishes off the wine and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Just like Emery said. Empress Shit. I'll just tell people I need to go and only you can come with me and they'll do it. If they say no, I'll have them killed."

"We can't pilot a starship though!" Alina reaches across Kerry and takes another bottle of wine and pours a little more, only slightly unsteadily.

"They drive themselves! It's easy. You just say "Ship, take us to wherever." and it does it." Kerry is on her third glass of wine, but has noticed that Meredith is getting sloppy. She's downed two bottles herself in just a few minutes. She gets up from the bed and grabs three more bottles.

"You're just going to go by yourself with 4 handmaidens? Won't that cause problems?" Emery may have finally realized the gravity of what they're planning.

"No! I'm going with my honor guard!" Empress Meredith grins lopsidedly. "We'll stop by wardrobe on the way to the docks. You four need new uniforms." She hiccups. "Come on. We're going to tell those fucking Nanites to give me my powers back. Maybe some powers for you four too." She nods at Emery. "And some shopping. It's been forever since I've gone on a shopping spree."

Emery squeals in joy, her face flush. The five of them weave uncertainly out of the Empress' chambers and stagger towards wardrobe for their new honor guard uniforms.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

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borntoocry · 1 year

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𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐲. e. williams x reader

𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

summary: yn and Ellie smoke and talk about everything relationship related. something very real and needed after yn’s disappearance.

word count: 3.8K

warnings: violence.

tag list: @evangelinejxy @zahrwa @machetegirl109

Madelaine was a girl you could only explain with a 2014 grunge Pinterest board. Her brown hair appeared black at certain angles, which confused you, and it made you angry how well she suited the changing colors. She was Snow White except she wore black tights and black shorts and boots that crawled up her knees. Her long sleeve was tight against her skin and you could see her nipples poking through the material. She was this aesthetic looking girl that was everything you wanted to be.

Ellie had the girl you wished to be and she didn’t even love her. This felt like a slap to the face, a kick to the stomach, and stomp on the head, a thorough beating. It felt like all of your nightmares were jumping you.

You shook her hand and offered a curt smile. You were angry at Madelaine somehow. She was perfect and she seemed nice, but Ellie didn’t love her. So what on earth was she doing wrong? Was she perfect for absolutely no reason?

“YN,” you said, which took the smile on her lips and dragged it to the ground. You retrieved your hand and stuck both into your butt pockets. “I see my name fucks everyone up, huh?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve just never seen you before. Ellie never showed me any pictures after I asked.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You wanted to see me?”

“I wanted to know what you looked like,” she clarified.

You nodded. “Ah. Well here I am. Infamous YN YLN.”

“You’re gorgeous,” she said, which shattered your already breaking heart.

When you were with Ellie, you were a silent 18 year-old girl who made no effort in getting to know more than five people. Your people consisted of Dina, Jesse, Ellie, and Ellie’s dealer, who was quite nice for a guy with gang-related tattoos and a scary face. Besides them, you didn’t speak to the people Ellie brought around. You were okay with them, but you didn’t become friends. You would just say hi and bye, nothing more. So for Madelaine to shake your hand and call you beautiful was both endearing and horrifying.

You nodded once more. “You are too.”

“No, hush.”

You playfully rolled your eyes albeit wanted to truthfully roll them. She knew she was beautiful, there was no lie about that. Maybe that’s one of the reasons Ellie didn’t love her.

You needed to smoke before your mind went haywire and you exploded. You were being an asshole again and you told yourself you’d be kind. “Do you smoke?” you asked Madelaine.

“Cigarettes?” she replied with her eyebrows knitted together.

Your eyes widened and you chuckled. “No. Weed.”

“Oh,” she popped. “No. I don’t do drugs. They mess with my mind.”

“Well that’s alright. If you don’t mind, I’ll be out front with a blunt.” You glanced behind you at Ellie rocking back and forth against the fence. “Weed’s on Dina if you’re up to smoke.”

“Oh Ellie doesn’t smoke,” Madelaine nipped.

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow at Ellie. “You don’t?”

Ellie stared back at you with a locked jaw. Her hands were deep in her pockets but even then you could tell they were in fists. No words came out of her mouth. Not even a head shake.

“No,” Madelaine replied. For her. For the tough girl who used to be able to answer for herself. “She doesn’t like that stuff.”

“Since when?” you laughed.

“Since we started dating. I made her stop. It was nasty and I didn’t like her when she smoked.”

You wobbled back to look at them both. “And she just quit?”

“Yep.”

Now you understood why Ellie might’ve hated Madelaine. She was controlling. You glanced at Ellie and squinted your eyes at her figure. She was slumping over, she looked annoyed, and she looked like she desperately wanted to smoke.

“You don’t even let her on special occasions?”

Madelaine shook her head.

“Well that’s no fun,” you said with a smile. “She should be able to smoke sometimes.”

Madelaine scoffed. “I’m sorry YN but you aren’t her girlfriend anymore. You can’t make her follow your rules.”

You looked down at the girl and tilted your head. “Madelaine, when I was with Ellie, I didn’t make her follow any shit rule. She wasn’t my fucking puppy.”

She prodded the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “Well now I see why it didn’t work out.”

Ellie stepped forward and grabbed Madelain’s arm. She pulled her aside and quietly whispered something to her. She huffed and puffed but after a minute of staring at them, she stepped away and walked to the bonfire. She looked like a baby the way she prodded off.

This left you and Ellie staring each other down. You shoved your hands back into your pockets, awkwardly drifting your thumb over your butt. Ellie looked you over as if she hadn’t done it millions of times before and sucked her lips into her mouth. She was silently observing you like she was going to strike at any moment.

The longer Ellie stared, your craving intensified. You took a step to your right and cleared your throat. “C’mon,” you said, jutting your head towards the house, “let’s go bother Dina for some weed.”

Ellie followed behind you as you searched the house for Dina. After a minute of searching and coming up empty handed, you started yelling. This quickly caught everyone’s attention. It was funny how everyone turned their heads to see you desperate and afraid Dina had somehow taken her bright personality to another party. People spat out directions like ‘Over there!,’ or ‘She’s in the bathroom,’ even though there were about two and a half bathrooms in the house; and when you searched every bathroom, someone finally said, ‘She’s right here!’

A random girl was locking arms with your best friend and you pulled her away. You and Ellie tucked her into a corner and badgered her for her weed stash.

“YN,” she said, pushing your crawling fingers away from her sides. “Stop tickling me! My stash is in my room. In my closet on the highest shelf. It’s in a Toms shoe box.”

You kissed her cheek and gave her side one last pinch. “Thanks D, I owe you.”

She hummed and you quickly grabbed Ellie by the elbow. You pulled her up the crowded stairs and down the hall to the right, where Dina’s room was locked… and you were the only one with the key.

You dug into your bra and retrieved the purple key, shoving it into the lock and twisting and turning it. You finally opened the door and hauled Ellie inside. You slammed the door shut and twisted the lock. You dropped the key back between your boobs and ran to the closet, climbing over Dina’s heavy dresser to grab the Toms box decorated in pink duct tape. You took off the lid and smiled at the sight of the pre-rolls enclosed in a clear mason jar.

“How many do you think we’ll smoke?”

Ellie hummed. “Er… I’d say one is fine.”

You slowly turned to her with a hand tightly wrapped around Dina’s closet railing. “One?”

Ellie’s mouth fell open and she rolled her eyes. “Did you not hear what Madelaine said?”

“That her puppy doesn’t smoke weed anymore because it alters brain chemistry or some shit?”

“Ding-fucking-ding,” she said, her voice deep and annoyed.

You scoffed and took one singular pre-roll out of the jar. You placed the lid back onto the box and stuffed it in its respective place on the shelf. You snatched a lighter off her dresser and walked over to her bed.

You sat on the bed and slapped the space beside you. “C’mon over here and sit,” you said, to which dragged Ellie over. She acted like she didn’t want to sit next to you–a slouching back with a pair of dragged feet–but as she sat down, she inched her way closer to your body.

You placed the joint in your mouth and sparked the end of it with the hot pink lighter. You inhaled until the tip was cherry red and proceeded to do so as you removed the joint from your lips. You exhaled the cloud of smoke and passed the joint to Ellie, who was both mesmerized and hungry.

“Are you a lightweight now too?” Ellie asked as she stuffed the joint between her lips.

You shrugged. “Currently, no. But maybe next month.”

“What do you mean?” Ellie rasped, the sound of smoke lingering in her throat vibrating through her words.

“Every once in a while I give myself a tolerance break for a certain drug. Last month it was alcohol. Instead of drinking a shit ton, I smoked a shit ton. So right now I have a high weed-tolerance, but a low alcohol-tolerance.”

Ellie hummed. “And why do you do it?”

You took the joint from her nimble fingers and raised it up to your lips. “Feels like I’m doing some heroic shit for my body.”

“And does it work?”

You inhaled, exhaled, and chuckled. “I don’t fucking know.”

She laughed. The sound reminded you of moments you didn’t want to reminisce on just yet. So you took another hit and asked, “So what’s up with your girlfriend?”

Ellie sighed. She placed her feet on the ledge of the bed and hugged her knees. “It’s too complicated to talk about. I don’t even know how to explain it.”

You shoved her shoulder with your own and looked over at her. “Before we dated we were best friends. And even when we did, you were one of my only friends. So spit it out. I don’t care if I have to figure it out in my head.”

She nodded and leaned against your warm body. “She has a strange mentality,” she began, her hands picking at her jeans and the patch of skin at her knee. “When we first started talking, I didn’t realize. And when we first started dating, I brushed off her weird remarks and lack of communication ‘cause I really did like her. She’s gorgeous, you know that, and she makes killer first impressions. When I first started noticing the strange things she would say, like, “You’re almost like a guy so you wouldn’t understand this,” I would just laugh it off because if I said anything about it, I’d end up overthinking it.” She exhaled a string of breaths that continued for a couple of seconds. She dropped her head and your mind kept telling you to pick it up for her and kiss away the wrinkle between her eyebrows. But Ellie sniffled and you quickly realized this topic was more serious than you thought. Madelaine truly was a monster. “I used to think that when I pointed out more shitty things about her, that I was only finding a reason to leave her. But I wasn’t. She just was an asshole.”

You ashed the joint and placed it on the ashtray beside you. You dropped your head to level with hers and whispered, “I know there’s more you want to say. You can say it, I promise I won’t say anything.”

She nodded. “YN, I know you think I should stay with her, but I know I need to leave her. This has nothing to do with you coming back but at the same time it has so much to do with you coming back.” She glanced at you and squinted. “For the year and a half I have been with her, my feelings haven’t even been considered. I haven’t been taken out on dates, I haven’t been the one receiving shit, I haven’t even gotten fucking head, YN,” she laughed manically. “She treats me like I’m a guy.”

“All because you’re masculine?”

“Exactly.”

The eye contact between you was as strong as the drugs mixing in your body. You kept looking at each other, observing one another’s matured faces and wishing you could see if more than just her freckled skin had matured. You knew she had changed–her figure took on more muscle than you could believe, her hands were even more godsent than before, and her hair was shorter, offering a better view of her chest–but to this extent? You were a melting ice cream cone begging the sun to just fade away.

“When you stare at me like that I don’t think we can have a serious conversation,” Ellie whispered.

“Well you started it,” you replied.

“Sure,” she rasped. “But truthfully, I do want to hear from you. What do you think of her?”

You rolled your eyes and steadied your hands along your thighs. “I think she’s a dumb bitch who deserves my fist in her fucking face.”

Ellie chuckled. “You’re not fighting anyone.”

“Yeah well who is she to treat you like you’re not a woman? Just because you’re a masculine woman doesn’t mean you have manly emotions or manly feelings and thoughts. And it especially doesn’t mean you don’t deserve head. Does she not want to because you don’t have a dick or something?” you exclaimed.

“Probably,” she muttered.

Ellie had never been the type to spit out what was shredding her to pieces. It struck arguments when you were together, but you worked it out every time. You could tell Madelaine didn’t care. Not about Ellie’s emotions, her mental health, nor her sexual needs. If she was in such distress every time she was with Madelaine, she needed to leave the relationship.

“Fuck her,” you spat. “Bring her to me and I’ll tear her stupid leather jacket to pieces.”

“Don’t,” Ellie said. “It cost me damn near two-hundred bucks.”

“Shut the hell up,” you said. “For what?”

“Her birthday. She kept crying about it and I was tired of hearing her yap about it, so I bought it.”

“And what did she give you in return?”

“It was a gift, YN,” Ellie clarified as if you hadn’t heard her loud and clear.

“Yeah but I don’t mean what you think I mean,” you answered. “I mean, did she fuck you for it?”

“Fuck no,” she said.

“Then fuck her and her dumbass Pinterest board aesthetic.”

Ellie cackled. She fell into your side and you leaned your laughing face against her forehead. You placed a hand on her thigh to keep you both steady but as she pulled away, your hand remained glued to her. She gazed at her burning skin and then up at you. Your throat throbbed and you swallowed the spit halting you from speaking and breathing.

Ellie tugged your hand higher up her thigh and you flinched. You pulled back and instead, placed your burning fingers between your thighs. Ellie could feel the tension tying around your necks, but she did nothing to soothe it. Instead, she made a Boy Scouts knot and pulled as tightly as she could.

“Why’d you leave?” she asked you.

You dropped your head as she had done once before and huffed. “I told you already.”

“You didn’t tell me anything; you wrote me a note.”

“And I’m sorry, but my reason is on that piece of paper.”

“But what if I want to hear you say it?” Ellie pleaded.

You slid a hand over your eyes and stopped at your chin to pinch and somehow stop yourself from crying out. The topic of leaving for two years and magically reappearing made you emotionally unsteady. You constantly thought about it, but you rarely spoke of it. Speaking of it somehow made everything worse.

“I don’t know how to tell you.”

“Well like you said, we used to be best friends. You can tell me anything.”

You looked up at her through your eyelashes and found the calmness within her eyes. You nodded and stood up. If Ellie didn’t like your answer, you wouldn’t have to fight her away if you needed to leave. You could simply walk out of the door. It was easier this way.

“Well I don’t know. You broke me when you said what you said. Calling me insecure and bashing me for having trust issues made me go insane. I mean…” You drew in as much air as you could and held it at the bottom of your stomach. “I loved you, Ellie. I loved you so much my heart fucking hurt every time I thought about our relationship. You were so good to me. You listened to me and you tended to every desire I had. You didn’t just want me for sex. You wanted me for my brain and my feelings and emotions. And you were patient!” you exclaimed. “You were so patient. But then you said I was insecure and I didn’t trust you. But I did. I did trust you, Ellie. With my heart. But I was a terrible overthinker; and every person I had been with before you treated me like I was just a person and not their significant other. Like I was just a ragdoll they could shove their dick or fingers into and I’d be alright for the next few days. They would leave me for someone else and come back to me. So when you would go home every other month, I was scared you would find someone else and leave me at college to find out you didn’t love me anymore.”

When you stopped walking back and forth and looked at Ellie, you froze. Her face was red and splotchy and tears were running down her cheeks. She was no longer cradling her knees, but on the edge of the bed, arms on her thighs and eager to stand.

You walked to her and sat down in front of her. She followed suit and sat down, her hands reaching for sweaty ones. She separated your thumbs and placed them on her lips. She kissed the pads of your thumbs. Over and over again. It felt like cheating. It probably was, but neither of you could pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against your skin. You grasped her cheeks and caressed her jaw with your remaining fingers, trying to brush away her tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t take my time to understand why you had a hard time trusting me. I should’ve known.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t know and I never made an effort to tell you. This wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have lashed out, though.”

“And I shouldn’t have left,” you whispered. “I should have talked to you about it instead of leaving.”

“And you left because…”

“I had to work on all of my unresolved problems. I was a mess, and I did have trust issues I failed to work on, and I was a raging insecure idiot. So you weren’t lying, but I guess the truth hurt like hell.”

Ellie nodded. “I was still an idiot for yelling at you and scaring you off. I might have made you realize something, but I shouldn’t have bashed you for it. I should have sat down and brought up something that hurt me. So we could calmly talk about it.”

“Yeah well now what can we do?” you said. Your thumbs were now traveling around her lips, touching the crevices and smoothing over her smile lines. Or lack thereof.

“Nothing,” she answered. “But–”

“I think you should break up with her,” you spat. Ellie’s eyes exploded. “You should leave her. She’s no good for you.”

“I know, I know, but it’s not as easy as we say it is.”

“Well I can help.”

“YN.”

“Ellie.”

She pulled your hands away from her face and placed them on her hips. She hovered over you as she sat on her knees, and with her own pair of hands, graced your face. You looked up at her, confused and drenched with tears. She slowly leaned in and you shut your eyes–if she was going to cheat, you didn’t want to see her as she did it.

You could feel her breath panning against your mouth and you hummed. She was going to kiss you after two years.

She was.

Until a terrifying knock shook you both out of your shoes. You pulled away and stood up, dusting yourself off before the doom–Madelaine–bursted in. You dusted yourself off on your way to the vibrating door, and unlocked it. You opened the creaking wood and smiled at the angry Madelaine.

“Hey,” you said with a smile.

You couldn’t catch her punch as your tears were still invading your eyes. But when you wiped your eyes away and dodged her next wobbling punch, you struck her right in the jaw.

Holy shit, you thought, I just knocked out Ellie’s shitty girlfriend.

And holy shit thought Ellie too. She quickly grabbed you and wiped your bloody face, holding you away from Madelaine, who was slowly dragging herself up. She pointed at you, spitting out blood and curses.

You laughed. “Fuck you!” you shouted over Ellie’s shoulder. “You controlling bitch!”

“You’re the homewrecker!” she shouted back.

“You can’t wreck a home that’s already broken, you psycho.”

Madelaine got up and walked over to you and Ellie. She dug her finger into Ellie’s chest and pushed her away. Thankfully, Ellie pushed her away and said, “Just sit down and talk. Why the fuck did you have to punch her?Are you fucking crazy?”

“The fuck?” Madelaine spat. “You were going to have sex with her while your girlfriend was outside crying.”

“I wasn’t going to have sex with her, Maddie,” Ellie whined.

“Yeah well from what I heard out here, you were.”

You stood by and watched, saying nothing but wanting to throw another punch at her stupid face.

“I wasn’t going to fuck her! But whatever you heard out there was fucking true! So while I wasn’t going to fuck her, I am going to break up with you.”

Madelaine’s jaw trembled. You looked down at her figure–her red hand was balled up into a fist, ready to swing again, but this time into Ellie’s face. She raised her fist into the air and as she was about to knock it into Ellie’s jaw, you pulled her forearm and pulled her onto the ground beside you.

Ellie stepped back as your fist collided with her cheek. This was enough to calm her down for the next couple of seconds. She laid on the floor like a baby, but with blood and tears instead of just tears.

You looked up at the people surrounding the room. The audience was too in shock to pull out a phone, and for that you were grateful. People would have thought you were fighting over a girl. Which, to an extent, you were. But to you, you were fighting someone to defend your best friend.

“Someone come get this bitch and calm her the fuck down,” you shouted, pulling everyone out of their wide-eyed stare. Dina, who was pushing against everyone, dragged Madelaine out of the room with only an enthusiastic “Good job” coming out of her mouth.

#Ellie Williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fanfic #elliewilliams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #lesbian #lesbian romance #bisexual #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #Ellie TLOU #romance #lgbt romance #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams x female reader

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lu-vin-it · 3 days

Text

The Reservoir

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3 | City of Walls and Secrets/Tales of Ba Sing Se

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Masterlist | Ao3 | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Like every year, your father takes you on an expedition to find Wan-Chi Tong’s lost library. This time, however, you actually get results. Results that change your life forever.

Pairing: Sokka x Reader

Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Words: 4,563

Warnings: Sokka and Y/N bond over dead parents so angst!

A/N: Sorry this was so late!!!!!!

Thank you to @sepptember for proofreading !!! ILYSM!!

On the train, you sit in between Toph and Sokka, across from Aang and Katara. You’ve taken this train many times over the years, which makes you miss your Dad. He should be sitting next to you, rambling on about how beautiful the library was. You wish you would’ve asked him about it while you were there. Did it live up to his expectations? Was it better.

“Look. The inner wall!” Katara says, pointing out the window behind her. “I can’t believe we finally made it to Ba Sing Se in one piece!”

“Hey! Don’t jinx it!” Sokka exclaims. “We could still be attacked by some giant, exploding, fire nation spoon. Or find out the city’s been submerged in an ocean full of killer shrimp.”

You raise an eyebrow at the boy beside you. “Way to kill the mood.”

“Just being realistic!” He holds up his hands in surrender.

You deadpan. “Yes, because, realistically, a giant spoon will attack us.”

“Okay, but the shrimp thing could totally happen!”

“Have you been hitting the cactus juice again?” Toph asks, making you giggle.

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. “Weird stuff happens to us.” As he says that, a man with a whole pineapple in his mouth shoves his way in between you and Toph, shoving you against Sokka.

“Point proven, I guess.” You murmur, butterflies in your stomach at the contact with Sokka. He scoots over and laughs nervously.

“.. We’ll find Appa.” You turn your attention to Katara and Aang.

“It’s such a big city.”

Sokka stands up. “He’s a giant bison. Where could someone possibly hide him?” The train enters the city, and you’re once again hit with a wave of nostalgia. All the times you’ve been through this exact moment with your Father hit you at once. You can feel tears well up in your eyes, so, you turn to look out your window so your friends can’t see.

—

Once you arrive at the train station, you wipe the tears off of your cheek and step off the train.

“Back in the city. Great.” Toph complains.

“What’s the problem? It’s amazing!”

“It’s just a bunch of walls and rules. You wait, you’ll get sick of it in a couple of days.”

You frown. “What are you talking about? Ba Sing Se is the best! There are thousands of things to do here!” You gesture to the looming city in front of you. Toph scoffs in response, making your frown deepen.

Aang pulls out his bison whistle and blows on it. “I’m coming for you, buddy.” Katara places a hand on his shoulder. “He’s here, I can feel it.”

“Hello! My name is Joo Dee.” A strange, grinning woman says, walking up to you. “You must be Sokka, Katara, Aang, and Toph, welcome to our wonderful city.” She turns to you. “And welcome home, Y/N Zei.”

“Oh. Thank you.” You scratch your head, wondering how she knows you all.

“Shall we get started?”

“Yes! We have information about the fire nation army that we need to deliver to the earth king immediately.” Sokka tells her.

“Great! Let’s begin our tour, we’ll drop Y/N off on the way, and then I’ll show you to your new home, here. I think you’ll like it!” She turns around and starts walking, gesturing for you all to follow. You glance at each other, confused.

“Uh! Maybe you missed what I said? We need to talk to the king about the war. It’s important.”

“You’re in Ba Sing Se now. Everyone is safe here.”

Your friends look at her like she’s insane, but you just smile. “Come on, guys!”

—

“This is the lower ring.” Joo Dee informs you as you ride through Ba Sing Se in an ostrich-pulled carriage. You sit beside Sokka next to a window.

“What’s that wall for?” Katara asks.

“Oh, Ba Sing Se has many walls. There are the ones outside, protecting us, and the ones inside, that help maintain order.” She gestures outside to a group of people. “This is where our newest arrivals live, as well as our craftsmen and artisans, people that work with their hands. It’s so quaint and lovely!”

You point at a restaurant across the street and nudge Sokka. “That’s the best place to get food in all of Ba Sing Se.” You grin. “My dad and I used to go together all the time before we moved to the middle ring.”

“Maybe we should stop by! I’m starving.” Toph says, patting her stomach.

“Oh, later, later. There will be plenty of time for food after you get all settled in!” Joo Dee says, waving the idea away.

“Why do you have all the poor people blocked off in one part of the city?” Katara asks, making you furrow your brows. That’s not what this was… right?

Aang shakes his head. “This is why I never came here before. I always heard it was so different from the way the monks taught us to live.” You frown and look back out the window.

—

“This is the middle ring of Ba Sing Se!” You smile softly as you enter your ring. “Home to the financial district, more shops and restaurants, and the university.”

“This is where I live!” You grin. “In the apartments just up there.” You point at a tall, ornate building that stood ten stories tall. It had ivy blooming with pink flowers going up the side.

“It’s beautiful!” Katara says, smiling.

“Just wait until you see my apartment! It’s easily the best decorated place in all of Ba Sing Se if I do say so myself.” You beam, filled with pride. You love your home. It’s always been a place where you found solace like nowhere else. Memories of going to work with your Father and then coming home and crashing on the couch together fill your mind, and you can’t help but feel sad again.

“Are you okay?” Sokka whispers, placing a hand on your knee.

You force a smile and nod. “Just thinking about how different it will be without him.” The brunette frowns and grabs your hand, wordlessly.

“Look, here’s one of the oldest buildings in the middle ring, town hall.” Joo Dee interrupts, pointing out her window.

“Great! Could we talk to someone there?”

“We will stop here to let Y/N go home and see the architecture up close!” The carriage comes to a stop right in front of your home and Joo Dee steps out.

“Is this woman deaf!? She only seems to hear every other word I say.”

“It’s called being handled, get used to it.” Toph scowls.

You all step out and you immediately go over to your mailbox, open it and pull out the contents. You sort through the envelopes. Mostly, it’s just junk, but there’s one letter from your grandma who lives in Omashu, and another from a friend of your father’s. How were you supposed to respond to these? How were you supposed to tell people?

“Hey guys, I’m– uh– I’m going to head up. I’ll see you around.” You give them a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. You turn around and walk inside.

“Y/N! Wait!” You glance back, Sokka runs inside and catches up to you. “Why don’t you come with us to check out our house? You know, so you know where to find us later?”

“No thank you.. I should really go upstairs. I have a lot to do. I really need to write to my Grandma.”

Sokka deflates. “Oh. Yeah, of course.”

You give him a thin-lipped smile. “Bye, Sokka.”

“Bye.” You start to turn around, but Sokka surges forward and hugs you, catching you by complete surprise. You wrap your arms around him and close your eyes, enjoying the moment. When you start to pull away, you kiss his cheek before you can second-guess yourself.

“I’ll see you later.” You turn around and walk away leaving him a blushing mess.

—

That night, you write to your Grandma and read your father’s friend’s letter. It breaks your heart to think about how these people didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. They wrote these letters thinking that they’d get a reply a week later. Though they will be getting a reply, it certainly won’t be one they hope for.

Afterwards, you unload your backpack. In the contents, you find one of your Father’s journals– which is possibly the best thing that’s happened since you’ve been back– because it reminds you that he’s been journaling since before you were alive, and somehow managed to keep them all to your knowledge.

Your memory proves to be correct when you go into your storage room– which was just an extra bedroom that your father filled with boxes and keepsakes– and find twenty file boxes full of journals all labeled by year.

You grab his first journal ever and bring the first box to your room. You get comfy in your bed and then start reading it. You can definitely tell it’s his first journal from the writing. He talked about being in university himself, and how he was about to graduate. He also wrote a lot about a girl in his class, Sha Le. Your Mom. You never knew her, but everytime he mentions her, the empty feeling you’ve always had grows.

—

The next morning, a knock wakes you. You run to your door and open it, shocked when you see Sokka standing there with a grin.

“Good morning Y/N!”

You smile softly and move to let him inside. “Good morning, why’d you come all this way this early?”

He walks in and you shut the door behind him. “We figured out how we can talk to the earth king!”

You walk into your kitchen and start making some tea. “Oh yeah? How?”

“He’s throwing a party in his pet’s honor!”

“Bosco the bear?”

“Yeah.. is it really just a bear?”

You giggle. “Yeah, King Kuei is a little odd. In my opinion, platypus-bears are much cuter as pets.”

“That’s what I said!” Sokka exclaims.

“Anyways, did you guys get invited to the party?”

“Well, not exactly no, but Katara and Toph are going to sneak in.. we figured you should go with them! Since you know more about Ba Sing Se.”

You pour two cups of tea and hand him one. “Toph knows more about high society than I do, it won’t be much different than in Omashu.” You scrunch up your face. “Besides, I’m not high society, I don’t know anything about how to act at those types of parties.”

“Toph is teaching Katara right now! If we hurry you’ll catch the lesson.”

“I don’t know, Sokka. I have a lot to do. I found some boxes of my Dad’s journals and I want to go through all of them.”

“You can go through them tomorrow! I’ll even help you if you want.”

You smile. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.” You point at him accusingly. He holds his hands up in mock surrender.

—

“So, how do we look?” Katara asks as you, Toph, and her walk out of her bedroom. You feel a little ridiculous in the outfit, the fabric is itchy and your collar is a little suffocating. You break into a fit of giggles.

“Wow, you look beautiful…” Aang says dreamily.

“Yeah. Beautiful.” You catch Sokka’s eyes and butterflies erupt in your stomach when you realize he’s staring right at you. You go to respond, but Toph covers your mouth with her fan.

“Don’t talk to commoners, Y/N. First rule of society.”

“We’ll get in the party and then find a way to let you in through the side gate.” You say as you walk to the front door.

—

You can’t really recall a time when you were this close to the palace. It made you nervous. You felt a little like a poser, especially when you see how easily this act comes to Toph.

When you finally reach the door, the guard asks for an invitation.

Toph holds up her passport. “I think this will do.”

“No entry without an invitation. Step out of line, please.”

Toph scowls. “Look, the Pangs and the Yumsoon-Hans are waiting in there for us.” She crosses her arms. “I’m gonna have to tell them who didn’t let me in.”

“Step out of line please.” He reiterates. You guys frown and step out of line. Just as your about to think of a plan B, Katara spots someone.

“Sir?” She asks, walking up to a tall man with a mustache. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but my cousin lost all of our invitations.” She leans in. “She’s blind. Do you think you could help us? Our family’s inside, and I’m sure they’re very worried.”

The man bows. “I am honored. Please, come with me.” He leads you back to the entrance where the guard bows to the man and lets you pass. You walk into the foyer and your jaw almost drops. It’s breathtaking. By far the biggest room you’ve ever been in. The pillars are taller than you thought

possible with gold trim on them. There are Earth Kingdom banners on every wall, and tables full of food in the center of the room. “Beautiful, isn’t it? By the way, I’m Long Feng.” The leader of the Dai Li. You tense up immediately. You’ve been caught. “I’m a cultural minister for the king.” You furrow your brow slightly when he doesn’t mention his title.

You glance around the room, faking a cough when you spot a waiter carrying drinks. “Excuse me, I’ll be back, it seems I need water.” You smile slightly and then quickly walk over to the waiter, grabbing a drink and then disappearing into the crowd. You walk over to the side door that Sokka and Aang were supposed to meet you at, and stick your head out. You zone in on them immediately and wave them in.

“Hi Y/N!” Sokka greets you with a grin.

“Hi Sokka.”

“Where are Katara and Toph?” Aang asks with a frown.

“We asked a man to sneak us in, but he’s the leader of the Dai Li and there’s no way he doesn’t know who we are.” You reply, grimacing. “I snuck away to let you guys in, Katara and Toph don’t know who he is.”

“What are you doing here!?” You turn around, caught. Joo Dee is standing in front of you, shocked. “You have to leave immediately or we’ll all be in terrible trouble.”

Sokka steps in between you. “Not until we see the king.” He storms past her into the crowd, you and Aang following behind closely.

“There you are!” You turn around, hearing Katara. She walks up to you with Toph’s hand in hers.

You furrow your brows, not seeing Long Feng. “Where’d Long Feng go?”

“He’s right the– Oh.” Katara looks around behind her. “I don’t know, he was just here.”

“We must leave now!” Joo Dee whisper-shouts.

“I already told you! Not until we see the king!”

“You don’t understand, we must leave now!” Joo Dee takes a step towards Sokka and he takes a step back on instinct. He steps right on Aang’s foot, making the younger boy gasp and grab his foot, which throws him off balance and sends him flying into the table behind him. The table rocks back and forth before it falls, spilling a bowl of liquid all over a woman. She shrieks.

“Sorry! Oh no, don’t shout!” Aang uses his bending to dry her off, causing her hair to come undone and stick straight up.

The woman gasps. “The Avatar! Oh, I didn’t know the Avatar would be here!” She says it loud enough for everyone to turn and ogle at Aang as if he were an exhibit at the zoo.

Sokka leans into Aang and whispers something into his ear. “Watch this, everybody!” Aang leaps into the air and lands on the huge table in the center of the room. He uses waterbending on the different coloured drinks on the table, he spins them in circles in rings around each other.

Suddenly, the gong is banged on, and Aang drops the drinks as you all turn to look at the man entering the room. You immediately know it’s King Kuei. The people carrying stop in the middle of the room for a moment, and then start taking him away again.

“Your majesty!” Aang calls out, flying over. You all start walking after the king, but once you get close to the doors he was brought through, Dai Li agents grab each of you and drag you into a room.

“Hey! Let go of us!”

—

The agents finally let you go when you enter a library.

“Are you okay?” Sokka immediately asks you.

“Yeah. You?” He nods.

“We’re fine too, thanks for asking.” Toph interrupts. You both send embarrassed glares at her and Katara, who was snickering.

A moment later, Long Feng and Aang enter the library. Long Feng sits in front of you while Aang stands next to Katara.

“Why won’t you let us talk to the king!? We have information that could help us defeat the fire nation!”

“The Earth King has no time to get involved with political squabbles and the day-to-day minutia of military activities.”

“This could be the most important thing he’s ever heard!” Aang says.

“What’s most important to his royal majesty is maintaining the cultural heritage of Ba Sing Se. All his duties relate to issuing decrees on such matters. It’s my job to oversee the rest of the city’s resources, including the military.”

“So.. King Kuei is just a figurehead?” You ask, feeling like a bucket of ice water was just dumped on you.

“He’s your puppet!” Toph spits.

“Oh, no, no. His majesty is an icon, a god to his people. He can’t sully his hands with the hourly changes of an endless war.”

“But we found out about a solar eclipse that will leave the fire nation defenseless. We could lead an invasion!” Sokka steps forward. You smile, admiring his passion.

Long Feng stands abruptly. “Enough! I don’t want to hear your ridiculous plan!” The man spits. Sokka steps back, shocked. You place a hand on his forearm. “It is the strict policy of Ba Sing Se that the war not be mentioned within the walls.” You scowl. So that’s why you barely know anything about it. “Constant news of an escalating war will throw the citizens of Ba Sing Se into a state of panic. In silencing the talk of conflict, Ba Sing Se remains a peaceful, orderly utopia. The last one on Earth!” He smiles.

“You can’t keep the truth from all these people. They have to know” Katara says.

“They can, they do.” You mumble.

“I’ll tell them. I’ll make sure everyone knows!” Aang says, raising his fist.”

“Until now, you’ve been treated as our honored guest. But from now on, you will be watched every moment by Dai Li agents. If you mention the war to anyone, you will be expelled from the city.” He turns around and stares at the green flames in the fireplace. “I understand you’ve been looking for your bison. It would be quite a shame if you were not able to complete your quest.” Aang scowls. “Now, Joo Dee will show you home.” The doors open and a woman walks in, your eyes widen when you realize it’s not Joo Dee.

“Come with me, please.”

“What happened to Joo Dee?”

“I’m Joo Dee. I’ll be your host as long as you’re in our wonderful city.” She says robotically.

You’re starting to wonder just how great Ba Sing Se really is.

—

The next morning, you wake up in Katara’s room. It was so late once the new Joo Dee got you guys back to the higher ring that you decided to stay for the night. Katara was quick to offer you a spot in her room, and you were even quicker to agree, saying it would be a sleepover. The two of you ended up talking until the early morning, which makes the light spilling into the room even more unbearable.

“Good morning!” A cheery voice says. You roll over and open one eye, seeing Sokka standing in the doorway.

“It’s too early, Sokka.” Katara groans.

“Maybe for you, but I promised Y/N we’d go through journals together.”

You curse. “Does it have to be right now?”

“Yes, it does! Come on!” He grabs your arm and pulls you up.

“Fine.” You mumble, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. It was way too early for this.

—

Once you and Sokka got to your apartment, you bring down one of the boxes of journals.

“Okay, so these are the first ones. But, there are nineteen other boxes upstairs.” You put the box on the coffee table with a thud.

Sokka gapes at you. “Nineteen?”

You nod. “Twenty years of journaling, there’s probably at least twelve journals in each box too.”

“Twelve!?”

You laugh and sit down beside him. “If you want to back out, you can. No hard feelings.”

“No, no, I said I would help you so that’s what I’m going to do. Which one should I start with?”

You grab two journals and hand him one. “Here, this one goes right after the one I’m starting.” You look down at your hands. “Can– Um– would you mind dog-earing any pages that mention a girl named Sha Le?”

“Sure! Why?”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You have no clue why. There’s nothing embarrassing about wanting to know your mother. “Uh.. She’s my birth mom. I don’t really know much about her.. I never asked my dad anything ‘cause I was afraid of how he’d react.” You scratch the back of your neck. “My biological parents died in the south pole when I was younger. She was my dad’s best friend.”

“Wait.. Professor Zei isn’t your biological Dad?”

You finally look at Sokka, who’s staring at you with an expression that’s half confusion and half shocked. “No, we don’t look anything alike!” You giggle slightly. “He was my godfather. My mom moved to the South Pole after she graduated university to study your guys’ ways of healing. She met my biological dad– Paro– while she was there. He was a waterbender–”

“I know of Paro! He was a soldier, right? He’s a legend!” He practically fan-girls, his eyes go wide and a grin stretches from ear to ear.

You grin. “Really?”

He quickly nods. “My dad told me this story about how he single handedly beat a whole battalion of fire nation soldiers once. What happened to him?”

You sigh. “He got sick, I guess. I don’t know the details,” You frown. “Then two years later there was a raid and with no one to protect my mom, she was.. You know.” Tears well up in your eyes. “And by then I was already showing signs of being able to water bend so I was sent here and my dad took me in.”

“My mom was killed during the raid too.” Sokka replies quietly.

“I’m so sorry, Sokka.” You bring your legs up onto the couch. “You don’t talk about your parents a lot.”

“Well you know about my mom now. My dad led the soldiers that were left in our tribe to fight in the war two years ago. Katara and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.” You frown. How could he leave two kids behind like that? “We ran into one of the soldiers, Bato, a while back and he told us dad was still alive so there’s that at least.” He frowns too.

You reach forward and grab his hand. “That must’ve been so hard. I’m so sorry, Sokka.”

“It’s okay. I just hope I can see him soon.”

“You will.” You smile softly.

Sokka looks up at you and your eyes lock. You get lost in his irises, when suddenly, his eyes flicker to your lips and before you know it, he’s leaning in and you’re leaning forward to give him better access. Your lips meet and you feel like the world is melting away. His hand flies up to your cheek, cupping it. You grab his forearm as your lips move in sync. You pull away after what seems to be forever. You stare at Sokka with wide eyes, his expression matching yours, as you let the kiss sink in. You clear your throat awkwardly. “We– Uh– We should start reading.”

His cheeks turn bright red. “Yeah! Reading! We should do that! Yes.” He backs up, putting as much space between the two of you as possible before he starts reading the journal in his lap.

—

Hours later, you and Sokka sit in the same spots. You’ve each gotten through about two journals, meaning you’ve gone through five in total since you read one when you got back.

“Hey! Your dad has a lot of information about the fire nation in this one!” Sokka exclaims.

You glance at his journal to see a page with a list on it. Notes from a class, you assume. “You know.. I bet there’s a lot about the fire nation in these. With how many there are, there’s gotta be, right?”

“You’re probably right! I bet you we could find out a lot in these.” He grins. “I’m so glad you had a weird dad!”

“Hey!” You exclaim with a laugh, trying to act offended, but failing miserably. “He wasn’t that weird.” You laugh again, this time, Sokka joins in.

—

You keep reading with Sokka until the sun goes down and you finally finish the first box. After Sokka found the first page about the fire nation, you both started finding more and more littered through the entries. At the third mention, you grab an empty notebook and start writing down everything you’ve found so far.

—

“Well, I should probably go back to the house.” Sokka says after he sets the box down in the storage room.

“Oh, right, of course.” You smile and gesture for him to leave the room, then lead him to the front door. “Thank you for helping me. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles. “Anytime. Um–” He blushes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable when I kissed you earlier.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, silly. I liked it.” Your stomach churns nervously.

He looks up at you, hopeful. “Really?” You smile and nod. “Cool– I, um– I liked it too. Maybe.. Maybe we could go to that restaurant that you said you liked. Alone. As a date.” Your eyes widen. He wants to go on a date with you? “Or not, we don’t have to, obviously! It was just a suggest–”

You cut him off by leaning up and kissing his cheek. “I’d love to go out with you, Sokka.”

“Oh! Awesome! I mean– cool. Cool.” His cheeks turn bright red making you giggle.

“We can figure out the details tomorrow?” You ask. He nods frantically. “Okay. I’ll go over to the house tomorrow morning.”

“Okay! I’ll see you then!” He turns around and grabs the doorknob, waving awkwardly as he steps into the hallway.

“Goodnight, Sokka.” You close the door behind him and blink. Did that really just happen?

──────────────────────

Taglist: @randomgurl2326 , @staygoldsquatchling02 , @acupnoodle , @ginger-swag-rapunzel , @polish-cereal @graciexmarvel

#sokka x reader #sokka atla x reader #atla sokka x reader #atla x reader #atla fanfic #prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar x reader

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babyraccy · 1 month

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you cannot separate the abdl and little aspects of me from myself. without them then i am still somebody, but there will be a huge chunk missing from me. i probably make it sound super serious but that's bc it is to me. this year will be the third year anniversary of me coming out as an abdl (before you get upset at me using coming out here: you try telling your close friends who know you as just some vanilla-ish guy or in one case your literal mother that you like diapers. go ahead.)

i am so happy. i know so many amazing wonderful people in all sorts of places, even irl!!, who share the same interests i do. i love to look at art, read stories (there's some amazing abdl original fiction out there), talk with people!! i love to talk with people!!!!

being an abdl and a little literally made me come out of my shell and open up! im no better at talking than i was before but i dont feel so pressured or nervous because i know everyone around me is just as weird as i am!!! and i know it was this specifically because i feel like i still struggle in other spaces im in relating to other "weird" things about me

i feel like i was always kind of meant to be this way, too. when i remember things about being a kid relating to diapers obviously there were swaths of tv shows with regression episodes, but i would get physically nauseous with embarrassment if someone saw me watching them. i always thought they could read my mind and knew i was watching it because i really liked when characters were babies/got turned into babies/etc. and wished it would happen to me. it sounds cliche but i still get embarrassed like that because NOW i know people know

ive always been kind of obsessed with babies and baby-related things. i would sneak into my sister's room when she was a baby/toddler to play with her toys; a couple times i climbed into her crib while she wasn't in it (and a couple times i got in trouble). i loved looking at baby clothes, baby toys, etc.

diapers i think was a slow-build that suddenly exploded into real desire when i was... probably fifteen, i can't remember exactly but i think fifteen. and from fifteen to nineteen i denied being into ANY of that so hard im sure it definitely tipped some people off. i forgot it was on my f-list as a teen when i showed it to my best friend. at the time she was like loool what the fuck but um. jokes on her. i can't wait to hang out next weekend and go look at baby things and pet things (ageplay4petplay friendship ftw)

at twenty i made an agere account, and in june of 2021 i abandoned that account and joined some diaper forums, which is when my anniversary is! its actually june 3rd!!

anyways, that's about it for this mountain of a post. im gonna go lay down before bed

i love being an abdl and an ageplayer and a little and a babyfur. peace and love on planet earth and beyond

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mickimomo · 11 months

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Smile At Me For Once - (Attoye)

I finally got the motivation to write Attoye again! I figured I’d do a few warm ups again, by writing out little prompts that have been living rent free in my mind while working on the next chapters of my fics. Enjoy! :)

p.s. this isn’t set in the Sun and the Sky AU. It’s just post-BPWF, after a treaty has been signed.

Since the treaty was signed between Wakanda and Talokan, little workshops were being held between the two nations to give the people opportunities to learn new skills and build friendships.

Okoye had been very eager to sign up for a few artsy and combat workshops. The midnight angel was hopeful to learn some new ways to kick ass but also embrace this foreign culture. Throughout the entire cultural exchange, she had been very openminded about it all until she had crossed paths with Attuma in a sparring workshop where they played a rougher version of hot potato mixed with floor hockey using a weaker water bomb and wooden spears.

Essentially, you had an unknown number of hits to get the ball in a goal.

If it explodes while you’re maneuvering it around, you’re out until your team scores a goal.

It was a fun game that really boosted everyone’s morale but seeing Attuma and Okoye go against each other while their teammates sat on the bench with bated breaths really got everyone invested.

The man had used every chance he had to be near her, trying his hardest to start a conversation as he maneuvered around her. Through mean mugs and stank eyes, Attuma refused to leave her side. Even causing his team to lose a couple of rounds until she made it clear that she only wished to kick his ass.

Attuma understood that as, ‘I will only respect you if you defeat me or lose to me after giving your all.’

Okoye left the workshop sore, wet, and tattered while Attuma watched her retreat with a bruised grin and blood-filled rebreather.

He had managed to win a few rounds, but he played nastier than she ever wished to discuss or think about after today.

It wasn’t even nasty in a dishonorable cheating manner.

He just played without mercy or restraint or any sense of personal space. This resulted in Okoye having to literally fight for her life or peel him off of her.

There were moments where the wind had been knocked out of her and other moments where Attuma had sent her flipping across the field. He’d always be there to break her falls though, unintentionally groping her during inspections that often ended with gentle touches and the occasional Band-Aid.

Okoye never complained out loud though.

If he wanted to be rough, she could be just as rough.

She had been successful enough to knock him down a few times, but it always left her muscles screaming at how much strength it required to send the blue titan into the muddy earth.

Once she claimed the final victory, earning cheers from her team, Okoye left. She could feel Attuma’s gaze on her back, but she refused to turn around.

She was a wounded cat, desperate to lick her wounds in private.

“Um...Okoye...why did Attuma pin you down like that-”

“-Because he is an idiot.”

“Well, you look like you had fun.” Aneka grinned.

“Do I look like I had fun?” Okoye turned to glare at her friend.

“Well, now you don’t.” She pouted.

“I hope I never have another workshop with that man present.”

“Eh? Why?”

Okoye’s eyes burned into the midnight angel, forcing her to lift her hands in surrender.

“I’ll be quiet.”

“Good.”

Aneka remained quiet as they left the muddy field.

Okoye’s wish of not seeing Attuma had been granted by Bast temporarily.

She’d gone to weaving workshops, cooking workshops, and even carving workshops without seeing Attuma.

It was all going well until she went to the painting workshop that was being led by the king of Talokan.

She should have known Attuma had been praying to Chaac to see her when the sky opened and dropped an ocean’s load of rain.

The downpour was relentless as it soaked her clothes and pebbled her skin, scolding her until she moved faster.

Sandaled feet carried her towards the citadel and down a gilded hallway before she entered the workshop room that was at the beginning of a well-lit corridor.

Rain dripped from her eyelashes as her eyes scanned the room, eager to find a seat without disrupting the class.

Attuma was the only one sitting by himself in the back, while the king paced the front of the room, talking about a painting he had created.

Namor seemed fixated on the painting he had done while he talked, so now was the best time to go.

She gritted her teeth and mouthed a slew of curses as she took off her shoes and tip toed to the empty seat next to the warrior.

Dark brown eyes locked onto her as she quietly pulled out the chair and sat down, successfully making her way in without Namor noticing.

Attuma breathed out a single word.

“In ba’ate’el.” (Warrior.)

But this time, it made her skin feel warm as it fell from his covered lips.

It had somehow gone from something he called her out of respect to perhaps a term of endearment. A nickname between foes to something Okoye refused to acknowledge.

Attuma accepted her glare as a warm welcome before sliding her a few pieces of paper.

“I.” He gently touched his chest. “Write.” He pointed at the papers.

She glanced at the papers apprehensively before taking them when she realized they contained details on the culture behind today’s workshop. Little fun facts and important moments of Talokanil history written neatly in English.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t impressed by his act of kindness.

It was clear that whatever his king had written on the board had been duplicated neatly- just for her.

He stared at her, patiently waiting for an ounce of praise.

“Thanks.”

He allowed his lips to curl upward behind his rebreather before he refocused on the speaking king.

Her eyes moved forward too, watching the king pause to put down a piece of paper.

“Alright. Now that we’ve covered the history, let’s jump into today’s craft.” Namor smiled. “Today, you will be working in pairs to create a mural of each other. In Talokan, we keep our culture strong by spilling our history into our art. We tell stories, sing songs, weave tapestries, write music, carve statues, and paint grand murals to record the past. Then, each generation adds to it. This makes our art better and the culture richer.” He lifted up a large painting. “Here is a small example I whipped together for this class. Here we have Chaac leading our priest to the plant that helped our ancestors move to the sea.”

He began to repeat himself, speaking in his mother tongue.

Her ears were able to pick up a handful of words to verify it, but she eventually tuned him out as she took in the large painting.

Namor was talented.

Talented felt like a small word.

An insult almost.

His painting skills were known to be amongst the greatest between both nations, so it made sense that he was leading this workshop. However, seeing his craft in person truly left the group speechless.

The mural was detailed, swirling with various cool tones.

Somber ceruleans, rich viridians, and regal violets.

Sprinkles of sand and clay browns as painted hands reached for a plant that floated down from a watching deity.

Everything was outlined with obsidian and highlighted with white and lighter cool tones.

He pointed at each component of the painting before looking up at everyone. “The story is clear that this is how Talokan came to be.” He put the painting down. “I want you all to work together to make a story about the two of you and paint it. At the end of this workshop, you all will present it to the group.”

He repeated himself once more in Yucatec Mayan before he moved forward to start handing out materials. “If you have any questions for me, please do not hesitate to ask. We have three hours to work on this, so please pour out your creativity and make something beautiful and meaningful with your partner.”

Okoye recoiled at the word ‘partner’ as he began his final translation.

Attuma on the other hand was elated.

His eyes moved to the woman beside him, drinking in her soaked attire.

He was used to seeing her in uniform, but today she was wearing a cropped orange and yellow blouse that tied in the front with a floor length orange and red skirt that moved like lava whenever she walked. She was heavily accessorized with golden bangles, a gold idzila, and a few jade waist beads.

Before he could take in anymore of her beauty, she snapped her red polished fingers in front of his face, sporting a scowl she always wore around him.

He blinked and she sighed before moving forward to place a kimoyo bead in his ear.

The world sounded foreign until she tapped her bracelet and looked up at him curiously.

“Do you understand me?”

He blinked before nodding slowly. “Yes. Can you understand me?”

She nodded. “Yes. Technology.” She offered jokingly before leaning back. “So, we need to tell a story. Let’s make some draft sketches of the mural and then pick the best one.”

“Ok.” He nodded. “Do you want to work separately, or do you want to work together on these drafts?”

“Separately.”

“Ok.”

“Let’s regroup in twenty minutes.” She tapped her kimoyo beads to set a timer.

“Ok.”

He watched her grab a piece of scrap paper and begin to doodle before doing the same.

Every few minutes, he would glance at her, stare at her longingly, get scolded, and refocus on his work.

By the time the twenty minutes was up, he had twenty drafts and she had four.

“I’m surprised you have so many.”

“I’d probably have more if you didn’t yell at me so much.”

“It is difficult to do my task with a creep staring holes into my head.”

“I’m not a creep. I was referencing your features. Your face has to be a part of the mural.”

She gave him a pointed look before she began to lay out her drafts. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got.”

He nodded before laying out his drafts.

He had drawn Okoye twenty times, each one slightly lewder than the first time.

Okoye on the other hand had drawn both of them, taking inspiration from Namor’s style as she drew out different tales from different battles, they’d fought each other in.

There was depth and details and a story.

Everything that was supposed to be there but was missing in Attuma’s work.

He could draw, but nothing he created told a story.

It didn’t capture anything more than the curve of her breasts and ass- amidst the vibrancy of her eyes and fierce scowl she always wore around him.

Very similar to the one she wears now.

“What do you think?” He smiled warmly at her.

“Attuma, you are talented...” She started. “...but you lack the ability to write a story. In fact, you drew me explicitly in every draft.”

“The way I have drawn you is not offensive to my people. Is it offensive to yours?”

“No, but I am more than my tits and ass.”

“Would it look better if I added myself?”

“Why-” She pinched the bridge of her nose to compose herself. “Quality over Quantity. Have you ever heard that phrase before?”

He thought it over. “Not exactly like that...”

“But you understand what I mean, yes?”

“Could you explain?”

“You have nothing more to offer to this idea besides explicit doodles of me. Although the doodles look nice, it’s the same thing... which means you’ve basically given only one idea.” She held up an index finger. “One idea that can’t be used or enjoyed by anyone because there’s no story or lore or creativity behind it.”

“But you are beautiful.”

“Right, but that’s not the theme of this mural. People will get tired of seeing the same thing over and over again. If I showed someone the same doodle twenty times, under the façade that it was something new each time, they’d grow sick of me. Which is why I’m disappointed with your drafts… beyond the obvious explicitness.” She shot him a look as he listened attentively. “We have to be innovative and creative. Just because it has Attuma and Okoye in it, doesn’t mean it’s good. Especially if it’s just the same thing over and over and over again. Whatever we present has to be new and additive to the story we’re trying to tell and something we’re proud of. We have to present this at the end, you know. It should be something of good quality. Something I would want to hang up in my living room and read books under.”

“Then let’s look at your ideas.” He tilted his head. “Maybe I can help draw one of those in a rough draft before we work on the mural.” He offered a small smile. “Whatever we make, I want it to make you happy.”

Okoye nodded as she looked away shyly. “Ok.”

Her four drafts were amazing, each blending the cultures of Wakanda and Talokan to create an ornate mural.

The first one centered around Bast and Chaac blessing her and Attuma in combat as they fought on a bridge.

The second portrayed a midnight angel descending on a warrior adorned with the head of a hammerhead shark, pointing her spear with a vow of sending him off to his ancestors.

The third centered around her kicking Attuma off the sea leopard and into the sea.

The fourth centered around Attuma pointing down at Okoye while she stood underneath an aircraft, holding a child close.

She spent a few minutes explaining each doodle before waiting for Attuma to pick one to work on.

He stared at each doodle with great focus before picking up the third one. “This one.”

She looked at it. “Why?”

“In that moment, we truly became equals.”

“You looked down on me before I kicked you off that ship?”

“No, but the fire in your eyes burned the brightest that day.” He smiled fondly at the doodle. “It makes me wish we had never been enemies.” His smile dropped. “Perhaps you wouldn’t glare at me as much.”

Okoye stared at him as they sat in silence for a minute or two.

“I glare at everyone.” She huffed under her breath, ignoring how his eyes brightened as she looked away.

“I will keep that in mind and not be offended by your angry gaze.”

“Yeah.” She dismissed him, suddenly feeling uncomfortable by her attempt at comforting him. “How long do you need to add your own style to it?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Ok.” She set another timer. “I’ll start making paint swatches, so we know what colors we want to use.”

“Ok.”

The pair worked quietly on their parts of the project before regrouping when the timer went off.

Okoye looked the doodle over, while Attuma waited patiently for her feedback.

“This looks good to me.” She looked over the patterns he included to add more dimension to the mural. He even cleaned up the design of her characters, being mindful to not erase the notes of her culture she had woven throughout the design.

There were a few creative differences incorporated, but it was definitely something she wouldn’t mind hanging on her living room wall if everything turned out great in the end.

“Can we start working on the sheet of canvas now?”

“I think so.” Okoye nodded. “You can draw the outline and then I’ll paint it.”

“Do a rough draft of what colors you want to use on the draft I just finished while I work.” He glanced up at her. “I don’t want to be in your way when you’re painting.”

“Ok.”

Attuma took a deep breath as he lifted the roll of canvas and rolled it out on the floor. Azure fingers began to spread out the dense material before he grabbed a piece of charcoal and got to work.

Nimble fingers skillfully mixed different colors of paint on a palette before pressing themselves into the wet paint.

She stamped her finger into the areas to denote where each color would go, occasionally going over colors with something different when it didn’t look how she wanted.

Once she was satisfied with her work, Okoye dried her fingers off on a rag and turned back to face Attuma with curious eyes.

At some point while she was working, he had pulled his hair up into a messy bun, failing to catch every single fly away.

His brows were furrowed in concentration while his hands moved with precision and accuracy across the canvas.

Upon closer inspection, it dawned on her that Attuma wasn’t dressed in his usual uniform.

He had on a long jade skirt that complimented his many piercings and a thick band of cream cloth that wrapped around his waist twice before trailing a line diagonally up and over his shoulder.

He didn’t even have his headdress on.

He instead wore a viridian and a cream feather tucked behind his ear with a few shark teeth charms attached to the handful of braids that had been neatly done throughout his hair.

At a quick glance, he looked like a sculpture of a deity who was heavily invested in something.

He was some sort of sea god or water god.

Enchanting her like a siren, luring a pirate out to his demise.

His gaze lifted to meet hers for a moment before he lifted his brow in curiosity.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“You’re staring.”

“I just wanted to make sure I mixed the right shade of blue for your skin.”

“You can do swatches of paint on my back to test it out if you want.”

“No need.” She turned around, flustered, and ashamed that she had been caught.

Attuma chuckled softly as he refocused on his work.

Once he was done, he got up and leaned over her, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“It’s your turn, warrior.”

“Okoye.”

“Hm?”

“My name is Okoye.”

“My apologies. It is your turn, Okoye.”

She offered a small nod before getting up and retreating to the floor.

“Is this okay?” She held up her rough draft.

“It’s perfect.”

“Ok.”

Attuma sat at the table and watched her begin to paint, being extra careful to be neat with each stroke.

Time moved slowly as Okoye worked.

He watched her every move quietly, being mindful not to gawk or make her uncomfortable.

If he was a water god, then she was a goddess of fire.

Beautiful opposites that could destroy one another if not careful but be steamy if allowed to mix.

Okoye could feel him staring but decided not to acknowledge it.

Once she was done painting, Attuma sat back down to finish outlining and highlighting the mural before they signed the bottom right corner.

The pair stepped back to admire their work, covered in smudges of charcoal and a few flecks of paint.

“We’re done.” Okoye breathed out.

“Mhm.”

“We did it.”

“We did.”

“Alright.” Namor spoke up. “While some of you add the finishing touches to your mural, let’s start presenting so that we can clean up and go.” His eyes scanned the room. “Do I have any volunteers?”

Okoye kept her hand down, but Attuma raised his hand.

Her eyes burned into the warrior as Namor grinned.

“Great! Attuma and Okoye will be our first presenters.” He waved them forward. “Come to the front and discuss the lore of your mural.”

Okoye sighed as she helped Attuma lift their mural and carry it to the front of the room.

Gasps filled the air as everyone took in the painting.

The painting was mostly various hues of blue, teal, and gold.

An unmasked midnight angel, striking Attuma into the waves with fire in her eyes.

Instead of painting a ship or an actual sea leopard, a large black panther was painted fighting with a feathered sea serpent in the sea.

The people of Wakanda were denoted by small purple panther cubs clinging to the panther’s back and the people of Talokan were denoted by small jade serpents trying to move up K’uk’ulkan’s back.

Attuma explained it all in Yucatec Mayan first before Okoye spoke in Xhosa.

He removed the kimoyo bead in his ear to relish in the sound of her explaining things in her own mother tongue.

It was beautiful.

She was beautiful.

Her lips stopped moving as her dark brown eyes moved to meet his.

She looked him over as the sound of clapping and soft cheers filled the air.

It all became background noise the moment she smiled at Attuma.

His skin purpled as she parted her lips to say, “Dios bo’otik.” (Thank you.)

“In k’áatech.” (I love you.) He breathed out.

“Huh?”

“Mixba’al.” (You’re welcome.) He spoke up as his blush deepened.

“Ah.” Okoye laughed softly as she looked away.

“That was a brilliant presentation you two! Thank you for volunteering to share first.” Namor beamed at them.

“Thank Attuma.” She jutted a thumb at the General before taking the mural from him. “I just wanted some art for my home.”

Attuma watched her quietly, drinking in all the joy that crossed her face before looking at his king with wide eyes when he snapped his fingers.

He arched a brow before realizing he was gawking at Okoye again.

Namor only shook his head as Attuma retreated and chuckled. “Alright, who’s next?”

The End

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xreaderbooks · 1 year

Text

Paradise on Earth (15)

Chapter: 15. The Darkest Hour

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language and violence (drowning, choking)

Summary: JJ and Y/n visit John B in jail while also planning on how to get him out.

A/N: Are you surprised? Me too baes. Enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments. Send me a message or comment if you wanna be tagged ;)

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Rage fueled in your veins at the injustice of the system your brother had fallen victim to. John B was charged with murder in the first degree with aggravated circumstances and the possible death penalty. You sat throughout his trial, silently praying for the downfall of everyone sitting in the courtroom staring and whispering ill wishes his way.

Everything leading up to this moment had formed a deep pit that your heart just wanted to scream into. This didn’t make any sense, this wasn’t fair and the true cause of this was sitting a few feet away from you playing the part of the distraught victim. You didn’t realize you were staring and that they were taking John B away already.

There were no words of comfort that you could give him, there was no use, you would visit him as soon as he was processed into the system. Sarah called out to him and reached with her hand but was quickly pulled back by two officers standing in her path.

People filed out of the courtroom with praise to the judge and jury, grateful that ‘that criminal is finally off the streets’. Each word spoken in disrespect to your brother shortened the very short leash that your patience was on.

‘Justice is served’ ‘He had it coming’ Murmurs that were not made to be subtle were heard all around you. Each phrase made to jab at your brother was a tick in the timer of a bomb waiting to explode- you were going to explode. It wouldn’t do any good, of that you were sure, that was why you kept your mouth shut throughout the trial and as you walked outside with your friends.

Sarah's eyes and face were puffy from crying, you were sure she cried enough for the both of you, as soon as you got home you would be right next to her with tissues with matching tear streaks. “I should have never come home,” She stated.

“They’re gonna kill him, I know it” JJ commented.

“I am so sorry for what you and your family have gone through,” You heard an older kook say to Ward. “Thank God the system works.”

You turned from the direction you were walking in to face the voice that ignorantly spoke, “Can you shut up?” You walked their way and made your voice strong, “Of course, you think the system worked because it was made to protect you and people like you.”

“He’ll have his day in court and a jury will decide,” The man with peppered hair and fancy suit replied.

“He shouldn’t even be in court!” You exclaimed.

Kiara walked up from behind you a bitter look on her face, facing Ward and pointing directly at him as she spoke. “You should, ‘Cause you’re a murderer.”

You placed a hand on her shoulder and stepped forward, “You have a lot of nerve showing up to court. Showing your face while my brother is in jail with the possibility of the death penalty, because of you!”

Ward held out a hand like he was trying to calm a dog from attacking, “I know you’re upset. I understand you’re upset-”

“Upset?” You seethed. A couple of police officers had made their way to where the group that formed was standing. Against your better judgment, all the pent-up emotion came out as you lunged for Sarah’s father. “No, I’m not just upset!”

Shoupe from your left had gotten a hold of your elbow, Officer Thomas grabbed your right. They forcefully backed you up, Pope was behind you steadying you by your biceps warning Officer Thomas to get off of you. JJ, Sarah, and Kie blocked their way to you as soon as you were released.

“Why don’t you take the kooks down for a change Shoupe?” JJ asked the officer.

“You wanna get arrested?” Shoupe stared you down, He pointed at your group “Get out! You need to go.”

You saw red, you didn’t care if you went to jail or got the death penalty so long as Ward was dead. Whatever awaited him in the afterlife had better be something worse than hell for everything you and your friends had to go through. You inhaled hoping it would help the ongoing anger.

Sarah put her arm around your shoulders, “C’mon. It’s not worth it.”

“I'm so sorry, you shouldn’t be going through this,” Deputy Plumb’s voice was heard consoling the Camerons. You shook your head and rolled your eyes refusing to look over, thankfully Kie spoke up for you.

“It’s not a coincidence that your daughter’s sitting with us!”

~~~

By the time the pogues were settled in the Chateau, the weather had matched everyone's mood. It seems like everyone had gone through the five stages of grief within the hour. On the way to your house, furious comments were made by Kie and JJ in your defense, in John B’s, and on the audacity of the people who had no fucking clue what was actually going on. Silence took over for a good twenty minutes, surprisingly not a word from JJ, the only sound coming from the rain pattering on top of the roof.

“I’m gonna testify under oath, I was there” Sarah announced. “I just need to get a hold of my sister.”

“Sister?” JJ muttered under his breath.

“I was there too,” You said. “His sister and his girlfriend, they’ll discredit us without a thought Sarah.”

“We would be under oath, they can’t just arrest us if they think we’re lying. We have to try,” She responded. “Kie, Do you have your phone? Wheezie is the only other person that knows Rafe wasn’t home that day.”

“Wheezie?” JJ breathed incredulously.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Kie hands Sarah her phone. “I got us into this mess, I’m gonna do my best to get us out.”

Wheezie was a smart girl but if she was the only hope to get John B out of jail, you didn’t know if you would put all your eggs in that particular basket.

“Yeah, that’ll work.” JJ scoffed. “Well, she’s right about one thing. We gotta do something, Our boy is held captive by the enemy right now, maybe even scheduled for execution. Are we just gonna sit here?”

“What’s the plan then?” Kiara stood from the armchair in the corner of the porch. “We start by kidnapping Shoupe?”

“That’s not the worst idea actually.” The scary part is, he looked deadly serious. You couldn’t help but cackle, exhaustion and delirium were what kept you going.

You love him, in moments like this when everything was so utterly fucked, it scared you how much the feeling overwhelmed you. The way he kept fighting for your brother made you feel safe. Although it was the most outrageous idea but that was JJ.

Kie and JJ stopped their bickering to give you an odd look, the silence and a full minute of laughing like a crazy person to the point of tears falling out of the corners of your eyes, you stabilized yourself. You wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes.

“That is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” You told the blue-eyed boy.

“It’s pretty bad.” Sarah agreed from inside the house as she typed away at Kie’s phone.

“Just stay out of this, okay?” JJ’s annoyance with Sarah was obvious.

“No, honestly though,” Pope’s features were stern. “What is the actual plan? You’re gonna storm a jail, guns a-blazing?”

“All I’m trying to get you to understand is they got our boy,” Pope and JJ are face to face now. “Are just gonna sit here and do nothing? No! We’re gonna get his ass, we’re gonna do something about it!”

The enthusiasm was encouraged but so was logical thinking. You watched as Pope tried to keep JJ from ‘thinking’ out his plans.

“We’re not storming a jail, it’s not happening.”

“Fine, man. Sit in your comfy chair and do nothing.” He looked you in the eye in full seriousness, an invitation to follow him in his plan yet his words trying to shame you all for not wanting to take immediate action. “I’m gonna see what I can do, make something happen. Even if I have to do it by myself.”

JJ runs out of the front porch, straight for his bike.

“Should we be worried?” Pope asks.

“Yes,” Kie sighs and shrugs. “I’m gonna git up my parents and see if I can get money for a lawyer.”

You decide to let Kie and Pope talk amongst themselves about the logistics and go after JJ was sitting on his bike, almost like he was waiting for you.

“Change your mind, Princess?” He takes off his cap and places it on your head to shield you from the rain even though it’s pointless now.

You swing your leg over the bike to straddle it and wrap your arms around his waist. “Just go before I change it again.”

~~~

“Now where exactly are you taking us?” You say in his ear as he whips past all his cars on his bike.

“We’re going to visit a certain jailbird!”

You weren’t sure if it was even allowed considering it had only been hours since he was sentenced but you knew that JJ would find a way.

Turns out his plan was fucking stupid, not reckless for once, and for that, you were thankful but definitely stupid. He parked by a tree in front of the Kildare County detention center, and two officers walked down the steps and right past the both of you. JJ being extra, stood at attention and saluted them as they walked. You look at him annoyed and he simply smiles, you push him in front to follow his lead.

JJ did some thoughtless acts but Jesus he looked good doing them. He stopped by his house to change from his wet clothes that were soaked from the rain to a pair of dry jeans and a clean white shirt. He also grabbed his headphones and mp3 player. He fixed his hair, put on a pair of sunglasses and suddenly he was giving James Dean. It was bad timing for your heart to stutter the way it did when you saw him change his shirt in front of you as if you hadn’t seen him shirtless before.

It was over when he pulled out a shirt- your shirt- from deep within his messy closet. It was from when you slept over that one time, you must have left it here and forgot to pack it. The moment felt so domestic, too domestic, it messed with your emotions and you already have too many with everything going on.

You trained yourself to focus on the task at hand, ignoring the wrongness you felt from the sleepover with JJ and then actually having sex with Rafe (with some feelings that you’d rather not get into), the treasure, John B in jail… it was all too much.

“We’re here to see John B Routledge,” JJ said loudly. He had his headphones on with the volume to his music all the way up.

“No music, and get rid of the toothpick.” The man at the front desk enunciated his words.

“I can’t hear what you’re saying man, these things are on full blast.” JJ tapped on his headphones, not caring at all what the officer had to say. “We’re here to see John B Routledge.”

The officer looked to you, “Can you get your friend to take his headphones off? There’s no music allowed and you both need to clear your pockets if you wanna see the inmate.”

“Can do, sir.” You place your empty wallet that only had a couple of bucks and your permit, and your phone (that was dead). “He, unfortunately, has a mind of his own.”

He took a breath and mimed what he wanted JJ to do, taking off the headphones and toothpick.

JJ glanced at you then at the man and took off the headphones hanging them around his neck, “I mean, I thought it was a free country and all but I guess you don’t like freedom very much. Now do you, cupcake?” He smiled slyly, leaning on the desk with his forearm.

Now you supposed you shouldn’t be surprised by what he had the balls to say but your jaw fell open anyway, you covered your mouth and looked around to see if anyone else had heard that.

Turns out the Officer had enough of JJ toying with him and took JJ by his biceps and pinned him to the wall. You picked at your nail nervously, until the Deputy came and told the front desk guy that it wasn’t worth it.

JJ kept a wide smile as he saw her, “Good to see you Plumb. Nice to have something in your mouth, you know.”

“Take off your hat and empty your pockets.”

“Yes, ma’am.” JJ finally did what was told and placed his things next to yours winking at you when Plumb led the way to where you can see John B.

You flinched as you passed by a prisoner who slammed a fist on the window of his cell. He called out to you, “Why don’t you come in here?”

Next to you, JJ guided you to go in front of him through the threshold of the visitation area, Plumb told you both that you only had five minutes.

There he was, in an orange jumpsuit, wrists in cuffs. You wanted to hug him, tell him it was gonna be okay and that you were gonna get him out of this. The only one of those things you were gonna be able to do is the latter and only if you were able to figure out a plan which you didn’t have.

You sat to John B’s right, getting a good look at him now, his eye was still bruised from the beating they gave him when he was first arrested. The anger came bubbling back that formed in tears until you all looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“I thought it was gonna be me,” JJ chuckled.

“I think we all did,” You sniffed.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

“When you said you had a new apartment, I had no idea,” JJ fidgeted with the visitation card they handed you both as you were officially signed in to visit.

You patted the top of the metal table, “It’s cozy. A little aluminum theme.”

“Yeah, I like to go for the cold, dark…”

“Alone, kind of theme?” JJ continued John B’s description for him, they nodded in sync. “Look, I would love to sit and chitchat but I’m on the clock and I’m here for one reason only, okay?”

Your eyes widened as you thought about the jailbreak idea JJ was playing with earlier. Was this it?

“Operation liberation, baby.” You facepalmed once the words came out of his mouth.

“Hear me out though, step one; piss off the cops so badly they don’t see what’s coming.” He waved at an officer that walked by the window looking in. “Check.”

“Was that what that whole thing was?” You slapped his arm, “A warning would have been nice.”

“Your right, I could’ve used some backup but your reaction was hilarious so it’s fine,” JJ was delusional. You ignored the fact that he really thought he was gonna pull this off as he laid out his plan. “Step two; at exactly 11 p.m. this evening, you’re going to have an attack of acute appendicitis.”

John B looked like he was doing the same thing you were, “Do you even know what appendicitis is?”

JJ’s pupils were dilated as he explained, “Remember eighth grade, algebra final?”

“Jesus Christ,” John B breathed. JJ faked appendicitis once before a test in eighth grade and was able to get away with it and this was the plan he was going with. You were glad you knew how it worked to visit JB in jail now since you were gonna have to get used to the process.

“It worked like a charm, to sell it, you gotta actually look sick though okay?” Not an ounce of a joke was heard in his voice. “You got some of that ghost face sunblock in here?”

“Be so fucking for real right now,” You kept your face in your hands stressfully, your head shaking in disbelief.

“JJ, I’m in jail. I have a block of soap, that’s it.”

“Is it white?”

Hesitantly John B replied “Yes-”

“Perfect, that’ll work. Take some of that, rub it into your face well, got it? You don’t want that shit rubbing off when they check your vitals.” JJ added. “After that, run your hands under cold water for five minutes. After that, you’re ready. Showtime baby, stumble out and collapse. Once you’re down on the ground squealing, they’ll rush you to the infirmary. There, you just have to convince the nurse that that sucker’s about to burst.”

He began to visually show John B the details of where the nurse will check him, John B’s acting skills would have to be absolutely flawless and without any doubt to pull all that off.

“I get it, I get it.” John B glances behind his shoulder and leans in closer, “Then what?”

“No fucking way, John B,” You stare at him in disbelief. “JJ he’s not doing this.”

JJ didn’t acknowledge you, “They’re gonna eject you to the hospital. Remember Cousin Ricky?”

“The weed dealer?” You questioned.

“He’s an EMT.”

“He sold us our first dime bag,” John B mentions.

“So? You can do both. It’s a gig economy, bro.” JJ shrugs. “Now, step three is extraction.”

“This is the dumbest freaking idea you’ve ever had.” John B states, at least you weren’t the only one thinking it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right but you know what’s even more dumb? You thinking you got any other way out of this.”

“JJ, this is a fortress.” John B explains, “They've got barbed wire, cinder blocks, guards on every corner-”

JJ stops John B from shutting him down further. “Don’t, you’re not the detail guy. Leave it to the professionals.”

“If you think that we’re the professionals in this you’re so mistaken,” You shake your head in disapproval.

Plumb was by the door telling you both that your time with your brother was up.

“You gotta trust me on this one,” JJ says and moves out of his seat giving John B his last words. “Nothing to lose now, 11 P.M.”

John B stares at you with a silent question, you squeeze his hand before leaving the visitation area behind JJ. Plumb led you down an unfamiliar path to the exit. She scans her badge before opening a metal door, JJ goes through first and goes towards another door to the right. It was an inmate basketball court, his dad was dribbling and blocking against another prisoner.

“Dad!” JJ pounds on the door trying to get Luke’s attention. “Dad!”

“Let’s go,” Plumb shoves JJ away from the door. If you didn’t know any better you would say she brought you both this way on purpose to get a rise of him. It was her way of giving him a sign that said ‘You could just as easily end up here.’

Seems like JJ caught on as well, he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly as he noted, “I see what you did there Plumb.”

Your jaw tightened as you saw the way she was handling JJ, forcing him out of the center. “I just have one question before we leave. How much are you splitting with Shoupe?”

She shoved you harshly into JJ, “You’ll be back here one day, both of you. It’s in your blood.”

JJ started to walk away defeated but you wouldn’t, you couldn’t. This wasn’t what your life would be, not yours, not JJ’s. John B was wrongly accused and JJ was not his dad, “Fuck you, bi-”

“Y/n, come on.” JJ put his hand on the small of your back to lead you away from the officer who was meant to ‘protect and serve’.

“What a bitch!” You spat. The nerve of her, you had taunted her but deep down you knew that she was probably getting a major payday from Ward. Instead of letting you see your brother in peace, she just had to bring you down even further as if she wasn’t breaking major laws. “She’s a hypocrite JJ, she's not a fucking fortune teller to tell us what our future will look like.”

He didn’t say anything in response solely making sure you were ready before revving up the bike and driving away from the detention center.

~~~

You told him you weren’t going to join him in his plans, he looked disappointed but since he was off from earlier he left you at the Chateau without a fight. You felt guilty knowing JJ definitely had a lack of support but you would only be a hindrance to the plan if you did go along with it. Instead, you found Sarah in one of John B’s shirts already several feet away from the house.

You ran up to her and asked her if she got in contact with Wheezie to which she said she was on her way to meet her.

“We’re here,” She whispered to herself clutching her gunshot wound as she checked the other side of the dock.

Wheezie apparently had texted her to meet her at the harbor. You went straight and paused, Rafe came around the corner. “Sarah,” You said in a small voice backing away slowly.

“Nah not wheezie.”

“Where the hell is Wheezie?” Sarah questioned from behind you.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe stepped closer with his hands half up in surrender. “Listen, it’s all good. I- I just needed to talk to you for a little bit.”

The stutter in his voice concerned you, he was out of it and it was only you and Sarah out here on the docks at night with this psychopath. Every step he took to close the distance between the three of you, you and Sarah held hands and stepped away.

“Is that okay?” He asked looking at you and then at Sarah. He reached for you “Y/n-”

“Don’t come near me,” You held your hand out in front of you defensively.

He sighed and focused his attention on Sarah, “What you do affects me, you don’t think of that, do you?”

“You shot me, Rafe.”

“That’s it, right?” He exasperated. “It’s always my fault like you know, I wanna keep what’s mine. That I got by my work and I’m the bad guy for trying to- to hold on to it?”

His pacing and waving of his hands while he talks make it clear that he’s unhinged. In comparison to the way, you and Sarah are frozen in your spots waiting for Rafe to make one move.

“It’s not yours,” Sarah tries to express.

“Like I’m wrong to protect what’s mine, huh?” His voice raises a couple more octaves. Chills run up your arms at his projection. Your mind takes you back to the night you spent together and you suddenly feel nauseous. His voice softens as he approaches Sarah, “Listen to me. The cops are going to talk to you and I need to make sure the story’s straight.”

Sarah speaks up, “You killed Peterkin. My story’s straight, listen this would go so much better for you if you would-”

His eyes roll to the back of his head in a lazy drug hazed way, “Who are you trying to protect here?”

“I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“You doing the right thing is the reason that you got shot because you were following John B.”

“John B might get the death penalty because of you!” She snaps.

“That!” Rafe points as he backs away and sits on a barrel. “That right there is exactly what I’m talking about Sarah, you’ve always been against me!”

She shakes her head, no, A threatening tone takes over “Don’t shake your head, you still are. You’re not just against me, you’re against us and you know, Dad always takes your side. Cause you’re gonna cry in front of him like you cried in front of me, but you- both of you listen to me. I am a proactive type of person and we have a problem, and I gotta solve that problem tonight.”

You glance at Sarah who’s shaking where she stands, you inch to the right, and Rafe follows your movement with his eyes.

“Do you understand?” He asks then shouts it at the both of you again, “Do you understand!”

You and Sarah took that as the queue to run. He runs after you, you were faster as you got a headstart but that meant that Sarah got caught by Rafe. He slammed her against a large blue plastic container that held water.

“Rafe!” You screamed, “Rafe!”

“Back off Y/n, I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

You heard Sarah begging Rafe to stop, you ran back and tried to push him off of her but with one hand he backhands you to the ground.

With a hand on your left cheek, he made you bleed with a ring he was wearing, “You’re drowning your sister!”

“She’s not my sister!” He shouted back at you with a harsh tone. “Not anymore.”

Sarah’s tears flowed freely, she let out a whimper as he tightened his grip on her throat. “Rafe, please.” You begged.

“Y/n I swear to god!” His voice was close to a growl.

“You swear to God what?” You lifted yourself up from the ground and came closer to where Rafe was drowning Sarah. You were hoping to bait him into letting Sarah go and focus his attention on you. If he was distracted enough to taunt you or hurt you then maybe Sarah would have a chance to breathe. “You’d hurt me? Cause you already have, Rafe.”

He screams as Sarah struggles, she gasps with two seconds of air before she is submerged again.

You try to pry him off of her but he releases her instead and grabs your wrists as he had many times before. “I would never hurt you, Y/n, she brought this on herself!”

His fingers were white and you felt your bones being compressed from his hold. His nails were digging into your skin making you want to kneel and clutch your arms but he was too strong. Sarah was free and coughing up the water in her lungs, exhausted from her fight. His right hand comes up and clutches your throat.

“I loved you,” You whispered.

His forehead was on yours, stray fell from his eye and onto your cheek, “I love you too, Y/n.”

You kept his eyes trained on yours without giving him doubt despite the fact that you were getting strangled by your former lover. You attempted to breathe air but the hold he had on your throat prevented your airways from being able to inhale properly.

Topper- who you had no idea where he came from- has a finger to his lips as he inches closer and whacks him in the head.

Rafe fell onto his back and you wheeze, able to breathe again, you go to Sarah who holds an arm out for you.

“Sarah, are you okay?” Topper rushes to her side and asks her, “Can you breathe?”

She nods and hugs him, your hands were on your knees, and you look at Rafe on the ground and sob. All your previous moments with him, your confession to him, his confession to you. What had just happened. He drowned Sarah and strangled you while confessing to being in love with you.

You felt nausea come back up again, you couldn’t hold it. Your insides came up and out through your mouth, you vomited in the dark water at the edge of the dock.

~~~

Next Chapter

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