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random-yandere-fandom · 3 years

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How about yandere TC meliodas but a soulmate au where him and the s/o( Fairy and goddess hybrid who fights for stigma) both share a connection to each other, from sharing emotion, to having vision of where they may meet for the first time. This seem like a nice concept, I imagine meliodas is use to constantly feeling pain from training all the way to fighting the war only to have a s/o who is yet to meet him but is willing to send over positive emotion and feeling to make him feel better. Im sucker for this kinds of things.

Oh hell yes, I love soulmate aus! Which is why it got a bit longer than what I normally write (and took so long lol)

Yandere TC Meliodas with soulmate darling

For as long as you can remember there had been a second layer to your emotions that you couldn`t quite grasp, let alone influence. It was just barely there, almost unnoticeable. Annoyance, nonchalance and a deep-rooted but hidden pain. After learning that those belonged to your soulmate, to the being your were destined to meet and love, you were baffled. Three emotions. A few feelings. Was that all they were capable of, or was that all they could allow themselves to? You mused that they felt your surprise and pity and hoped they wouldn`t connect the dots, they didn`t seem like the kind of person to appreciate such sentiments. Nonetheless you wanted to help. If they weren`t able to and didn`t have the opportunity to experience joy, wonder, excitement and a healthy amount of sadness and grief that one felt at ending a wonderful book with no continuation than you would have to do it for them. If they were hurt you could send them comfort and if they were bored you`d jump down a cliff if you must only to open your wings at the last second to send them a dose of mixed excitement and fear and laughter.

Meliodas had known of the concept of soulmates for as long as he could remember. Since then he had always been told that he wouldn`t need them, that demons barely needed their destined partner and only to allow any connection beyond the unavoidable should they be of the same race. He knew that something was wrong with that but in the end he didn`t care enough to do anything about that. So they felt what he did and at some point he`d know where you two would meet. Great. As long as they don`t get in his way and he can do what he must it`d be fine.

He always knew that his range of sentiments were by far not the widest or the happiest but he would do. Meliodas had to. He had to be strong and cold and unfeeling. That did not seem to be the case for his soulmate, however. There were a mix of emotions constantly changing, most of them he hadn`t even experienced himself. They are a bother, he told himself and ignored it. He also ignored the twinge in his chest whenever they felt sad, ashamed or dispirited. Told himself that he was lucky that they weren`t sending feelings consciously, especially when he had to concentrate.

That changed. There was no warning, no prompting, nothing. Meliodas was about to go to sleep when they did it for the first time. They must have felt his exhaustion and either they thought he didn`t deserve to rest or wanted to spite him because the next thing he knew he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins and excitement erupting. Cursing he sat up, trying to calm his racing hearts and suppress that stuff. The emotions promptly calmed down and went into their normal, ignorable state though he could make out some guilt. For good measure he made his annoyance clear before flopping back down and closing his eyes. That didn`t stop a small and rather short lived smile from surfacing.

Was it your best idea? No. Did you think about what you were doing? No. You had felt your soulmate`s fatigue and seeing as it was the afternoon and they didn`t normally feel like that at this certain time you had assumed that they needed a bit of energy. Luckily, you had been sitting on a rather high branch and before you could think it through you had thrown yourself of from it. Upon their rejection though you had quickly stopped your little stunt and the idea that they had wanted to sleep crossed your mind. Ups. This had been the first time you had enforced an emotion and it had gone wrong. Hoping that their first impression of you could still be fixed you laid low for a bit.

The next opportunity presented itself when you had discovered a beautiful small pond in the forest. It was surrounded by rich plant live and some ducks were swimming on it, the sunshine reflected and sparkled on the water’s surface. Deciding that now would be a good opportunity you checked on their emotions. There was no apparent change from normal so it should be fine. Carefully and a lot slower this time you let your admiration seep through to them and being encouraged by the response, which was nothing, you strengthened it, letting yourself enjoy the coolness of the water as you dipped your feet in. Sitting there you shared this feeling, the contrast of the warm light and the refreshing cold, the calmness of the forest, far away from the others and the silence only being broke by the wind and birds in the sky. With all the work you had been doing and the tense atmosphere of your partner the relaxation was welcomed with open arms.

After this first successful interaction you continued, first about once a week and then once a day and soon simply whenever you felt like it. You were a bit disappointed that your soulmate never openly reacted but you had noticed that their feelings had calmed down and that was enough to keep you going. Having long ago realised that they were fighting in the same war, the suspicion and caution mixed with the occasional numbness, you assumed that they numbed their feelings in hopes of suppressing regret, you sent as much comfort as you could. It was gut wrenching whenever you noticed the impassivity but you did your best to help.

Meliodas grew used to it, over time. He even grew to like it, not that he`d ever admit it. Sensing your enforced emotions brought him joy and comfort, knowing that there was someone out there who cared. He sometimes felt guilty about not replying but what did he have to share? So he let the one sided communication continue.

You always made sure to only strengthen positive emotions or small harmless sadness, just to let them know what you were feeling. This time however you feared that you had made a mistake. You were patrolling and you were careless. It was close to enemy territory but there hadn`t been an incident here and there was this beautiful flower in full bloom and you simply had to send your amazement. Doing just that you hovered over the flower, it`s sweet smell calming your mind. The next thing you knew was a sharp pain in your side as you moved away, away from whatever had slashed you.

It was a small demon and you were quickly able to take care of it before healing your wound. Before you could investigate if there were any others you felt their worry. It was overwhelming. For the first time they openly enforced their feelings and it was intense enough that you couldn`t breathe for a moment. You noticed some anger interlaced, too, directed at what had harmed you, you noted. Quickly sending them your calmed frame of mind you searched for any other attackers and upon finding none you returned to report to one of the other goddesses.

Meliodas had been walking down a lonely hallway when you noticed the flower. Humming in acknowledgement he opened the door to his room and froze. Instead of admiration you seemed to be in pain. What had happened? Were you okay? His mind raced as he allowed himself to worry and let that worry reach you. The seconds were he felt your pain, surprise, resignation and caution were agony. After he was assured you were fine he sighed in relief.

After the second time the demon decided that he should contact you more. After his initial worry had subsided he had become anxious. Not only could you be harmed at any time, he had no way of helping you, not without knowing who or where you were. He realised he didn`t know much of you. Was there someone who liked you beside him, someone you liked? He hoped not. You were his. You two were fated to be, no matter how stupid that sounded. However he had no real way of checking, so interacting with you like this had to be enough for now. He also grew more attentive of your passive emotions, not letting a single feeling pass his attention.

It is a well known fact that before you meet your destined other, you envision the place you will first meet. You had been waiting for that day for ages, knowing that soon after you`d finally meet them, your soulmate. They had been so much more communicative and their joy caused by interactions grew day by day. So when you opened your eyes in a supposedly dream and felt closer to them than ever before you knew that your encounter was drawing near.

The first thing you noticed were your surroundings which resembled a patch of woods just on the border to demon territory. It was cold and clouds hung deep over the sky, it was eerily silent. Not the most romantic, you decided, but whatever. Taking a closer look you noticed a figure approaching from the woods, across from you and the border. It was more of a shadow than anything, you could make out the rather small height but any other details didn`t quite seem to be comprehensive or noticeable. So this was them. You smiled, though you could guess that they wouldn`t see that with how they most likely perceived you in a similar way that you could view them. No words were spoken as you stood only meters apart, time seemingly frozen as all you could do was hope that you could stay like this for longer. Neither they nor you moved, fearing that otherwise the bubble would burst and the glass would shatter and you would wake up, more lonely than ever now that you were apart again. You couldn`t speak, somehow knowing that sounds would not travel far here, but you didn`t need to do that, as all you needed was your connection and bond as soulmates. Warmth, affection and joy swirled between you both and almost felt tangible, as if all you needed to do was reach out to drown in these emotions.

When Meliodas found himself in a dream more realistic than any other he wondered what had happened. He wandered a bit before recognising the forest to be the one crossing the border that Stigma established and vehemently defended. Feeling a presence he followed the strange pull, coming across the figure hidden in shadows with wings that couldn`t have been a fairy`s or a goddess`s. Something else or something in between? He didn`t care. All that mattered was the sense of recognition. It was you. His partner. His destined other. His soulmate. His.

Only after waking up did he realise where exactly you both would meet. The verge on which enemies would meet to battle. Where blood was spilled in the constantly ongoing war. The perimeter seemed in tact though, so you at least wouldn`t meet directly on a battlefield. One thing he did know now, however. You stood on opposing sides, Demons against Stigma, darkness against light, him versus you. How cruel to put you so far away from him, Meliodas mused. But if he had to he knew who to betray and who to stay loyal to.

You spend the next days searching for the exact place you two would meet, ignoring the suspicious stares and whispers about, oh, look, the hybrid is slacking of, no wonder. You wondered how they`d react to your soulmate who was undeniably on the opposite force of the conflict. You supposed one of you would have to switch sides and if you couldn`t convince them than you would have to do so. Though with how they ended up emotionally before you interacted you hoped they would agree with you. Even if the others were against it, the higher ups respected your hard work and if that didn`t work you`d ask Elizabeth, who always seemed hesitant about the war and disliked judging others no matter who they were, for help.

Either way, you thought, being prepared wouldn`t hurt. After finally finding the place you hid a small bag full of important belongings and necessities in the trunk of the hollow tree along with a small gift you hoped your soulmate would appreciate. Following the thickening of your bond you had started to feel other and smaller sensations of them and while you were quite distressed with how often they seemed to fight, you couldn`t deny the feeling of joy when you drank a wine and instantly knew that they liked it, having had a faint taste of it. Hoping that this time you could enjoy it together you made sure the bottle was secure before heading of again.

Every time the weather was like the one in your vision, your and their hope grew and while you reached the place in no time, having memorised the way, they still hadn’t found it. Meliodas wished to fly over the forest but he had seen himself walking and knew that was the only way to get to you. So he wandered around, over and over and when he finally recognised a turn he followed the path eagerly. It took a bit to notice your presence, it being hidden seeing as anything else would be suicide so close to a hostile region. He rushed through the trees, his and yours excitement mixing and growing as you waited, peering through the woods in hopes of catching a glimpse, the first glimpse of the person you had grown to love.

The wind, his hearts and time itself stopped as he came to a halt in front of you. Your eyes were the first things he noticed, shining with a light that warmed him, overflowing with affection. You stared just as much, his black eyes turning into a beautiful shade of green as he lowered himself to the ground, his black wings disappearing from sight. You did the same, letting your feet touch the earth below you before moving one in front of the other. The grin on your face widened as he did the same and before you knew it he wrapped his arms around you.

“Hello“, you whispered. All former thoughts and ideas on your first words spoken to him seeming too far away to speak now, all you could do was great him. He was so warm, his arms protectively shielding you away from a world that was to cruel to a wonderful being like you, he decided, as he responded in the same manner. His hearts were finally beating again and were much faster now.

“My name is Meliodas“, he added, chin comfortably resting on your shoulders, eyes closed and melting into your embrace. It felt so right to finally have you. You fitted perfectly into his grasp, his eyes fluttering open and a smile tugging on his lips as he heard your name. You were finally here, with him. Meliodas knew in this moment he could never let you go. He would follow you wherever you wanted to and destroy anyone that dared and try harm you, no matter the consequences, as long as he could be with you, the one who cared and comforted him, the one that was made for him and the one he was made for, his soulmate.

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dreamrecorder · 3 years

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Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request

Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.

Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️

IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj

But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-

Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️

The heart yearns and the wind heard

lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks

anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long

The Yaksha sighs.

He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.

He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.

He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.

One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.

Xiao sighs again.

This is his karmic debt.

The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.

You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.

With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.

“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.

“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.

You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.

Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.

Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.

Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.

“Name?”

You answered immediately with a questioning hum.

“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”

It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.

Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.

Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’

“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.

When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.

“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.

“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.

The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.

Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”

Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”

You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.

“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”

The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.

“Did Ganyu tell you?”

The Archon nodded and you sighed.

“I volunteered, actually.”

And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.

“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.

For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.

“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”

A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”

You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”

“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”

The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?

You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”

Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.

To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“

“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.

As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.

If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.

Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.

Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.

Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.

The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.

It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.

It’s ready.

With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.

Scratch.

Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.

Scratch.

Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.

Scratch.

Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.

Scratch.

What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-

“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”

The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.

The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”

There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.

As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.

Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.

Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.

He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.

Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.

Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.

To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.

Everything hurts-

And everything was driving you mad.

You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall.

This god- he was driving you mad slowly.

If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-

You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.

If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it.

Please

However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.

Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.

The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.

With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more.

“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?”

To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”

“Where?” The Yaksha growled.

“In the Golden House.”

Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.

To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils.

Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself.

It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice.

“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?”

The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-

His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.

In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”

He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue.

In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.

“I will ask you again, where is she?”

In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.

“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.

I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”

Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore.

Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.

All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.

Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.

“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.

With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”

But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil.

“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”

With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer.

Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night.

The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.

You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.

Please, just a little more...

Please, just stop...

Please...

The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.

“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”

With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.

“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-

You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.

“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’

The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”

With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.

After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”

The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.

A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-

how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #xiao #genshin xiao #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao genshin #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #zhongli #childe #ganyu #ningguang

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crimsonophelia · 3 years

Note

Can I request for a fluffy friends to lovers fic with Venti and a human gn reader? They’re good friends (but the reader doesn’t know his real identity) and when reader brings up their desire to see a wind wisp in real life Venti decides to surprise them by transforming into his true form and paying them a visit. The reader finds this mysterious little wind wisp at their doorstep and gets excited, takes care of it, and while feeding it apple slices starts talking about how their good friend Venti would love to see them - but oh, he’s less of a friend and more of a crush who I’ve loved for a long time… wait, where did the wisp go? Wait, Venti?! When did you get here?!

featuring: venti x gn!reader

warnings: none

published: june 30, 2021

form: imagine

a/n: thank you for sending this in—i need more venti requests, he’s my baby <3

you could tell that the drink was beginning to hit you hard when you felt your muscles go slack. it was your fourth pint of the night, and although you thought that you could hold your drink fairly well, you could never hold a candle to your bard friend’s seemingly bottomless appetite for wine. venti was on his seventh--or was it eighth?--mug of cider for the night, and was still fairly unfazed, if you consider his usual bumbling amiability to be his default. after a long day of working and whatever it was that venti did in the daytime, you two had decided to meet up at the angel’s share that evening for a drinking night between friends, and to catch up on life and whatever else goes on in the city of mondstadt.

the night had begun with a mug per person, as you and venti caught up with each other. due to your duties at home, and his rather inconstant job as a traveling musician, it was oftentimes difficult for you and the bard to stay in touch--responsibilities always seemed to get in the way. so, naturally, you took advantage of every opportunity you could get to see venti, one-on-one, and simply talk. after knowing him for quite a while, he really was a delight to talk to, always full of witty riddles and forever knowing the right thing to say at the right time. venti really was quite remarkable.

he also had the unique talent of contagious alcoholism; after having spent an hour or so drinking and chatting with him, you unwittingly started drinking more than your usual limit, absolutely carried away with whatever small conversation venti had you engaged with at the moment. the conversation had somehow strayed into the topic of myths and legends of mondstadt. venti was speaking of some strange conspiracies surrounding the origin of the anemo hypostasis up in the mountains, and as the alcohol began to break down your proper judgement, you began to go on and on about how you, as a child, dreamed of seeing an elusive wind wisp.

you had heard stories about the boy revolutionary, armed with his bow and his words, accompanied by a little white wind wisp, leading mondstadt’s journey to freedom. the story had enchanted you when you were young, and clearly you still had not given up hope of meeting a similar wind wisp. perhaps it would bring you the same joy and power to change your life for the better, just like it did for the hero of old mondstadt.

venti listened to your reminiscing closely, looking at you with a quizzical look of interest. your intoxicated state made it so that you didn’t notice the look on his face as if he was plotting something, but, to be fair, venti’s poker face was notable for its impregnability. the night ended with him having to walk you home, propping your arm over his shoulders so that you wouldn’t trip and fall on the cobblestone streets. the last thing you remembered was him tucking you into bed, and singing you one of his funny little songs.

the next morning, you woke with a pounding headache and the bright noon sun peeking through your shutters. archons, was it so late already? you pulled yourself out of bed, trying not to stumble, distracted by the pounding in your head. you had a long list of things to do today that you had to complete, and you severely regretted drinking so much and so late with that damned bard last night (though you could never really hate him--he was too adorable).

slipping on whatever clothing closest to your bed and sluggishly following through with your daily morning routine, you got ready to head out the door to water the carrots and potatoes in your backyard. as you pulled open the door, prepared to step out and face the piercing daylight, you caught yourself as you almost stepped on the little figure at your doorstep. lying there on its side, was a wind wisp. yes, just like the ones you had read about all your childhood and you had mused about endlessly last night. it had its little eyes shut, sleeping probably, its delicate little form curled up on the step.

you were bewildered, partially at the coincidence of it all, but mostly by the rarity of what had occurred before your eyes. a wind wisp, something most people never even saw once in their lifetimes, suddenly showing up right at your doorstep after you had talked about your desire to meet one just the night before. crouching down, you scooped up its little body in your hands. the little thing began to wake, hands rubbing its eyes sleepily, as it made a chirping noise. it was ridiculously adorable.

“hey there, little guy”, you cooed. “what are you doing here?”

as it began to regain consciousness, the wisp floated up off your hands, small gusts of air emitting from its form, and it flew up to nuzzle against your face. it felt like a warm breeze brushing against your cheek, and you heard it chirping in your ear.

you giggled. “well aren’t you the cutest little thing!” you raised your hand to pet it, and it made a little gurgling noise, leaning into your touch. something about its mannerisms felt so familiar, almost like something you had known in a past life perhaps, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. its presence was just endlessly comforting, even though you had only known it for a few minutes.

reaching into your pantry, you pulled out some apples you had picked the day before, and cut it into small slices. the wisp watched you eagerly as you went about your business, like it could understand everything you did. holding up a thin slice to the wisp, a little hole in its void of a face opened up and enveloped the slice whole. a little shocked but certainly entertained, you gave it an approving head pat.

as the day went on, the little wisp continued to follow you throughout mondstadt as you ran your errands. you went outside, behind your house, to take care of the crops you were growing. as you watered your plants, the little wisp helped you disperse the water more efficiently, blowing a gentle wind from your watering can so that you didn’t have to walk as far to water the faraway plants. you go to pick some apples and sunsettias nearby, and the little fellow would fly up to the hard-to-reach fruits and throw himself against them to knock them loose from the branches, right where you could catch them. you worried a little bit whether he was hurting himself by doing so, but he appeared to be pleased just to assist you, and he certainly was not ashamed to take a few bites from the fruits of your shared labor at the end of the day.

considering how efficiently your errands were completed today, of course all thanks to the helper you acquired that morning, you thought it would be nice to use the time you had in the late afternoon to take the wisp out for a picnic dinner at windrise to show your appreciation. gathering some of the fruit the both of you had collected, and some sandwiches you made, you placed it all in a little wicker basket and set off for the great tree with your companion upon your shoulder.

upon arriving, you laid down a gingham blanket in the shade of the great tree of windrise, just a moments away from the ancient statue of barbatos. you felt like a child again, remembering the summers of carefree exploration, tunneling through the thickets in the forest, or catching frogs by the creek, or tumbling down the hills by the sea. and now, a wisp joined you, taking you back to the memories of those years, when life was much simpler.

you couldn’t help but to think of venti, the bard, the friend, who had brought you such comfort through difficult times, whose music, like the warm touch of the wisp, reminded you of home and the beauty that life could bring. your companion was now feasting comedically fast on the food you had brought along, swallowing up fruits whole, and chewing for several moments before helping itself to another. you chuckled and gave it a pat. “greedy little fellow, aren’t you?” you couldnt help but to think venti would have loved to meet the wind wisp, considering his love for nature and all sorts of fauna, and considering the small resemblance between himself and the creature.

“stick around for a bit and i might introduce you to my friend, the bard”, you told it, not really caring that it probably couldn’t understand you. “im actually not sure that we are friends, to be honest. these days we rarely see each other but...” you trailed off, distracted by the sound of the breeze through the branches. the wisp stopped eating and watched you intently. “well”, you began. “i sometimes find myself wishing him and i were more than friends. maybe not lovers, not right away but... i just know that dearly. i cannot be sure that he feels the same, but that is of no matter.” you pat the wisp’s little head again. “if i can make him happy, even just as friends, that is enough for me.”

out of nowhere, a strong wind blew past you, knocking over your wicker basket and sending it flying several feet away. agitated, you scrambled up to chase after it, finally grasping it before it could fly too far. you were perplexed—where in the world could such a strong wind have come from? the sky was clear, and there were no clouds obstructing the setting sun. how odd, you thought to yourself.

you turned around to bring the basket back to your sitting spot, but to your surprise, the wisp was gone. no, in its place was now your bard friend, venti, sitting there on the blanket like he had been there all along. how in the world did he get here without you noticing, and where in the world did the wisp go off to? you hurried over to venti, questioning, “since when did you get here?”

the bard smirked, and fiddled with his lyre that you just noticed he had brought along with him. he had that look on his face again, the one he wore whenever he had some sort of plot in mind. “whatever do you mean, [y/n]?”, he replied amusedly. “i’ve been here all along.”

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin x reader #venti #venti x reader #venti headcanons #venti imagines #venti fanfic #venti x y/n #venti x you #fluff #venti fluff

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miss-choco-chips · 3 years

Text

Bird Watchers

It was something like an open secret in Gotham, that even though all it’s heroes were open to help no matter the situation, each one of them had a special affinity to certain matters.

For example, children from all districts knew to yell for Nightwing if they found themselves lost and scared. Small business owners often painted little Oracle symbols on their doorsteps, to warn away possible thieves with the knowledge that Gotham’s cryptic hacker had their eye on them. Working girls would send a quick prayer to the Red Hood before seeing their seediest clients; and as such, knew who to call for if things took a turn for the worst.

And Red Robin… well. His was a very specific bunch.

---.---

Warnings: depression, suicide attempts, overdose comic-typical violence (discussed, not explicit). Hurt-comfort all the way, baby. There’s also one scene, with the redhead, that I copied from the comics.

(it’s almost 2 am, I wrote half of this in one go, don’t @ me for mistakes. I’ll edit tomorrow. Maybe.)

---.---

The first time he stopped a suicide, he had just turned thirteen. The suit still felt wrong, too loose in all the places where Jason’s bigger presence would have been a better fit. Too small, too brainy, not brash enough, not good enough.

He would never think himself worthy, but he was all Batman had. There were no other candidates, not ones he could have thrown the job at without risking Bruce’s identity, so he’d have to make do.

But even so, he had been gaining a little confidence over the past few months. His training with Shiva, and Dick’s and Bruce’s focus on making him as ready for the streets as humanly possible, had ensured he never encountered a situation where he couldn’t handle himself, or get back up in time to avoid any casualties.

Except for right now.

“Hey! Don’t do it, please!”

Yeah, maybe yelling at the man precariously balanced on the edge of a how many feet tall building wasn’t his wisest moment. He’d berate himself later. Now was freak out time.

Said man stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and turning to look at Tim. He couldn’t be more than forty, with a bit of an overgrown beard and tired eyes. He had something clutched in one hand, tanned and calloused from work, the other over his chest, probably due to the scare of having a bat suddenly appearing behind him.

“R-Robin…”, he gasped, shook out of whatever reverie he was going through for a second. “W-what… I mean, why are you…?”

‘Okay, Tim, breath. Can’t call B, he’ll notice, get startled and jump. Can I catch him if he does? My grappling hook is made to withstand more than my weight, but if I can’t handle the strain of swinging us both to safety…’

He couldn't risk it.

“Good evening, Mr…?”

Surprise and good manners made the man automatically answer, “Ed. Ed Harrinson.”

Encouraged, Tim took a tiny teeny step forward. Ed’s entire body shock and he leaned backwards. Tim froze, fear keeping his breathing and heartbeat hostages for the time being, stopping the first and kick starting the second.

“Mr Harrinson, I’d like to ask you to step away from the edge? I’ll call an ambulance for you, and…”

“No!”, the man screamed, suddenly over his surprise, a look of determination trying to masquerade his obvious exhaustion. “If you call an’one, I’ll jump.”

Tim wisely kept the ‘you were gonna do it anyway’ to himself. He nodded slowly, hands emerging from the confines of his cape to show Mr Harrinson the lack of a communication device.

“I won’t, then, but may I come closer? Please?”

It was on the last word, high pitched and wavering, that the man cracked. With wary demeanor, he waved him over, pointing to a patch of rooftop a little far but close enough for Tim to feel comfortable- or as comfortable as he’d get, in these circumstances.

As he approached, he could feel the man analyzing him. The little gasp when he stood by his side didn’t go unnoticed.

“You are… smaller than I imag’ned. Too small for a bat. My boy’s taller than you” he mused, likely to himself, but Tim grasped onto that bit of information and clutched at it with both hands, desperately.

“I’m short compared to my peers, so maybe I’m the same age as your son. How old is he?”, he asked, in his most conversational tone. Fear still had a grasp over both his lungs and heart.

Something in the man’s face shifted.

“He… he just turned fifteen.” Older than Tim, then. Ed continued, “He’s… ”, in a second, the sadness was replaced by pride, “he’s grown up p’tty well, if I say so m’self. A fine young man, that kid. He’ll go places.”

For a beat, Tim tried to imagine his own dad here. As much as he’d hate to see Jack in Mr Harrinson’s place, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d be talking about him the same way Ed spoke about his son.

He… didn’t think so. If on the verge of death, thoughts about his son would probably be the farthest from his dad’s mind.

“You sound like you love him very much. He’s a lucky guy” he said sincerely, a tendril of hopefulness still twisted around his stomach. His hands weren’t shaking any longer, finding solace in the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look like he was about to jump right that second.

Mr Harrinson’s face fell.

“Got served an’ unlucky hand, with an old man like me”, his eyes went back to the abyss, to the empty, poor litten streets below them. “Go ‘way, kid. Leave m’ be. Notta business what I do. Gotta do this f’r my kid.”

Fear came back, full force.

“I- Sorry, but I can’t help but think about your son”, he blurted out, the only bit of information he had about the man was his only tendril of hope. “Someone who loves his child as much as you seem to must be a good father. A father that… would be missed dearly, if lost so young.”

Mr Harrinson looked even more devastated. Tim was doing this all wrong, wasn’t he?

“There’s no other way t’ keep’im safe!'' he yelled, and for a minute Tim thought he had decided to jump then and there. Instead, he dropped to his knees, hands to his head, paper still clutched in one fist. “They’ll get to him if I don’t! Once I’m dead, they’ll just leave’im alone!”

Tim crouched next to him, tentative.

“Who is ‘they’, sir? Maybe I could help…”

Ed was already shaking his head.

“Nay, they said not to go to the bats. Kill my boy, they will, if I do. Seen them offing others for less, so I believe them.”

“Ah, but I’m too short to be a bat, am I not?” he smiled, wobbly at best but sincere. “Besides, who’s gonna tell them you spoke to me? I”, he gestured to his mask, “know how to keep a secret.”

He considered for a beat, before tired shoulders fell, defeated. He offered the slip of paper towards him, unseeing eyes on the street below.

Robin read the note carefully, noting the sloppy penmanship and cheap paper as well as the message itself.

“Mr Harrinson…”

“I know”, he whispered, “I know working for the Black Mask wasn’t my best idea. But m’boy needed to eat, and the landlord was gettin’ impatient. And now, for whatever reason, boss wants me dead. And if I make ‘im dirty his own hands, he’ll dirty ‘em twice and send me with my son for company to the other side. Felix is too young, and he’s good. Can’t let ‘im pay f’ his old man m’stakes, ya hear me?”

Tim thought his words over carefully.

“Mr Harrinson… I don’t think this comes from Black Mask himself”, for one, Blackie wasn’t one to avoid blood on his gloves, nor to send such a shitty note. The man lived for the drama, like most A-listers did, and he’d never forgo the aesthetic of an expensive peachment and beautifully worded threat. Also, if he wanted this man gone, he would have put a bullet in his head the second he clocked in; and if it were revenge he was after, he wouldn't have gotten a warning note but his son’s head sent to him instead.

He folded the paper and put it into one of his multiple pockets, free hand going to the man’s shoulder.

“I know Black Mask’s M.O, mister, and this is not it”, no need to spook him further by describing what it was, though. “Probably just a colleague who wanted your position, or has a grudge for whatever reason. And that, I can help you with. If you work with me on this one, we can both make sure Felix has his Dad making breakfast for him tomorrow morning, and all the days after that. After all”, he smiled, no longer uncertain now that he had firm ground to work with, “your son is going places, and he’ll have to be well fed to reach them, right?”

Mr Harrinson’s smile must have had magical properties, Tim thought. There was no other explanation for the way it returned his breath back to his body.

---.----

The next time he saw a jumper, a few months later, he was slightly more ready for it. Bruce had congratulated him on his work with Mr Harrinson, and the subsequent raid they could make on one of Black Mask’s warehouses thanks to the man’s information, but Tim hadn’t been satisfied until he had read every single mission report on the batcomputer about attempted suicides. And succeed ones, too. Need to know what went well and what didn’t, after all.

So when he saw the fifty-something woman crying on top of a tower in City Hall District, he didn’t almost-crash in his attempt to get there in time. He landed softly, making just enough noise to let her know she wasn’t alone, but careful to not startle her.

“It’s a little cold up here, Lady. If you’d like, I can walk you home?”, he tries for cheeky, despite the cold fear nesting in his stomach like a grumpy, spiteful bird.

The woman, sitting by the edge, turned her head to look at him. The movement called attention to her long, strawberry blonde hair, neatly braided, and her pretty diamond earrings. The face under her perfect make up was gaunt and pale, tear tracks cleaning paths of skin to his trained eye.

Despite him interrupting what probably were very private thoughts, she smiled at his approach, kind and polite. It didn’t reach her eyes, but the intent to put him at ease was generous enough.

“I may be a lady, but any adult worth their salt would insist on walking the young child home, instead of the opposite. Besides”, she patted the rooftop under her,” I live here, so it’s not a long walk at all.”

Tim stepped closer, carefully.

“May I sit?”

“I could use the company for a bit”, she accepted, head turning back to the city below.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, before Tim’s soft voice broke it again.

“Is there anything I can do to help convince you not to do it? Please?”

The lady smiled. “You are a very sweet boy.”

“That’s… not an answer. Can I at least know why?”

“Won’t it torment you, in the future, if we speak now?”, she asked a question of her own, turning to face him again. Despite her words, there was nothing but kindness in those deep green eyes. “If you don’t know me, I’m just another one who jumped. If we talk, I’m afraid I might stay with you long after I’m gone. You are too young for that kind of weight.”

Tim swallowed.

“That’s easily solved, Miss;”, Dick’s rule of thumb; if unsure, always call a lady Miss before Mrs “don’t do it.”

She spared him a long, meaningful look, and he slumped over.

“Not my best, I know, but I’m kinda freaking out now?” She wasn’t like Mr Harrinson, no motive he could see, no strand to pull and unravel her pain. “Please, just… why?”

She patted one of the hands gripping his own knee. His other hand rushed over hers, sandwiching her cold, slim fingers between his gloved palms.

“There’s nothing left for me. I have a nice job, live in a pretty side of town, have friends, and still… it feels so empty. So… Meaningless. Why even bother?”

Tim chewed on her words silently. He was way out of his depth. A tangible, physical problem? He could solve those, no biggie.

Depression, though… that was a different giant to tackle. Was he even prepared enough to?

A strong gust of wind made the lady with braided hair shiver. Without thought, Tim unclasped his cape and draped it over her slim shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, head tilted like a curious woodland animal. Tim felt strongly protective of her, of this kind, sweet lady, who said she had it all, except the one thing that mattered to her.

“I’m used to it”, he shrugged. “This suit is very warm, but cold air often trickles down from the neckline and… well. Gigs of the job and all that.”

The lady tutted, frowning for the first time since Tim arrived.

“That won’t do, young man. You need a scarf. The nights will only get colder from now on.”

He shrugged again.

“I just… don’t have the time to buy one. And I had one, but… There’s these kids who often hang out by the park, and they were so cold, I just couldn't swing by and ignore them. So I gave them my scarf to share between them. I’m just kinda bummed that I don’t have more to make sure they all stay warm.”

The braided haired lady hummed for a second.

“Well… I knit”, she started, carefully. “I don’t have children or grandchildren to give my final products to, so they’ll go to waste after I’m gone. If you’d take them out of my hands, you’ll do me a favor.”

Tim wanted to say no, unwilling to make this any easier for her, but the chance of getting her away from the edge was enough to quell his voice.

She went and came back within minutes, a big cardboard box balanced over her shaky arms. He rose to help her, meeting the woman halfway through the roof, a good distance away from the abyss.

“This red one would look good with your suit… oh, and the green one, to keep with the theme! Or maybe the yellow one… Shame pink would be such a bad fit for your colors, because that wool is the best I worked with…”

Tim’s hand carefully took said carf out and looked it over. There were about six others in the box.

“I could take this to those kids I mentioned before… It’d still not be enough for all, but more to share between them means less cold.”

She hummed again, looking at the unfinished projects on the bottom of the box.

“If… If you give me a few days…” she muttered. “I mean, I’m in no rush”, a hand vaguely gestured towards the rooftop’s edge. “I could spare a few days finishing those, and you could take them to these kids you spoke about… and maybe, I can help make a few children less cold with this silly hobby of mine.”

Elated beyond words, Tim nodded vigorously, waxing poetry about her work and about just how excited little Ellie would be with this soft, pretty pink scarf.

His patrol route could use a few detours, after all, if that meant keeping Braided Hair Lady away from her roof.

---.----

He was just returning from a late supply run when he bumped into The Cats.

It was in an alleyway, a block off from Mrs Eloise Denvarow (formerly known as Braided Hair Lady). The older woman had caved after three months knowing each other, of Tim passing by her apartment once every other night to pick up her baked goods or knitted masterpieces, to distribute between street kids and working girls, and told him her name. It was said in passing (“Stop with that ‘Lady’ thing, honey. It’s Eloise”), as if lacking importance, when in reality it meant the world to him. Sure, he’d already known, having run a background check on her the minute he came back to the cave after stopping her from jumping, but there was that implicit vow between them, that she wouldn't tell him her name and jump, wouldn’t make him carry its weight on his shoulders forever, so it was… it was a promise, on her end, a reassurance, and Tim wasn’t even embarrassed that he cried in her arms like a baby for ten minutes.

So here he was, a month after that, still riding that high, when the desperate call from below caught his attention.

There were two teens on the dirty ground, nested among cracked bottles and old newspapers. The girl was lying in the boy’s arms, with him screaming for help.

“Robin! Thank fuck!”, he almost sobs, arms visibly tightening around the girl. Tim wants to ask how he knew to call for him, and if the proximity to Mrs Denvarow’s place was luck or not.

But it wasn’t the time to ask.

The girl was pale, which only highlighted the bruises on her face. Someone with a big fist punched her. It doesn't seem likely, considering just how distraught the other kid is, but he checks his hands just in case; fortunately, too small for that kind of damage.

She’s also breathing erratically and, when he puts a gloved hand to her neck, he realizes just how crazy her pulse is.

Fear Toxin? Except Scarecrow is still in Arkham as far as he knows, and even if he had gotten away recently, he needs time to develop his precious chemicals. Joker’s Venom and Mad’s Hatter drugs don’t have quite this results, and Ivy doesn’t usually attack street girls just for kicks; they are also too far from her usual turf for her to be a viable suspect.

So, that leaves very few choices.

“Overdose?”, he ventures a guess, hand already fumbling through the pockets on his belt.

The other boy sobs harder, nodding while looking down at the girl in his arms. Tim gently takes the girl from him to position her straighter, to help her down the vial he finally found in his belt. It was supposed to help flush out any chemical in a few minutes, tops; they usually used it when a new type of Crazy Criminal Drug made its way to the streets and they didn’t have the time to properly prepare an antidote. It was strong, and vicious in its path to devoid the body of any and all external agents, which was why it wasn’t a preferred method; who’s to say the civilian in need of a flush isn’t in some important medicine? The Big Flush, as Dick calls it, lacked any kind of finesse or discrimination.

But it was their best shot right now, so there goes nothing.

There’s silence while they watch the girl’s progress. He doesn’t bother asking if he called for an ambulance; they are obviously minors, probably homeless, and even if the Wayne Foundation takes care of children’s hospital fees, they’d avoid it to keep themselves out of the foster system.

But then, the kid kept talking.

“I… I found her near Grant Park. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I dragged her here. She/” and then he breaks again, hands grasping one of hers, as if letting go meant he was giving up on her and he couldn't bear it.

“Grant Park is only five blocks away,” Tim thinks out loud, mind already a mile away “and Moench’s Row illicit night clinic is about the same distance from there as this place. Why did you bring her here?”

“She… Alley… Oh, her name’s Allison, by the way. And I’m Thomas. Tom.” Introductions, miraculously, seem to do the trick here and calm him down. “Nice to meetcha.”

Tim’s not deterred by his toothy grin, but he has to admit he’s kinda cute. Like, stray cat cute.

Huh. Alley, Tom, cat… Yeah, that checks.

“What happened with Allison?” he presses softly, one arm still keeping Alley up and against his chest, the other hand on her pulse point, taking note of the way the heartbeat seems to be stabilizing. The puking fest was gonna start soon.

“She… It was on purpose.” Tom confesses, eyes going clouded for a while. “She tries to not be home, yknow? I met her in kindergarten, and even then she’d try to hide behind the teacher’s desk in hopes they’d forget about her and close the building with her inside. Anyway, we pretty much live on the streets these days, and Alley… she’s very depressed. I convinced her to see someone a while ago, even stol/ I mean, earned the money for it myself”, he’s quick to correct, eyes glancing up to see if he was smooth enough to cover it; which he wasn’t, but Tim was in favor of letting that small one go, “and they gave her a prescription for antidepressants. She’s been kicking it down the road, but she’s gotten a lot worse and I wouldn't lay off her case about it, so she sneaked back home to get some money from her folks to pay for it.”

By the way the kid looks at her bruised face with unmeasurable guilt, Tim knows she didn’t go unnoticed.

“And… I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up by the Commerce Street Highway, but she was late, so I walked around for a bit and… I saw her there, on a bench. She was/ she was still conscious then, and she told me… she said ‘these aren’t what the doc gave me, but they took the pain away all the same’.” Again, Tom chokes on his own emotions. If he had any free hands, he’d try to put one on his shoulder for comfort. “I don’t even know what she took, or where did she get it from!”

Tim has heard whispers of loan sharks and drug dealres camping toghter by the Fashion Distric, just north of Grant Park, so he can make an informed guess as to how that happened. Also, he now knows what he’ll do the rest of the night, once these kids are safe.

When Tom has gotten a grasp of himself, he pushes again.

“So, why did you bring her here?”

He shrugs, a bit abashed.

“Well… I mean, everyone knows about how Mrs Denvarow is the one giving clothes and food away, and that you help her distribute it. Well, not everyone, but… you know, the street kids. We flagged her building with a yellow skull and everything.”

A yellow skull grafitti, Tim’s mind translates, is the street equivalent of a ‘don’t fuck with this place’ sing. A sort of protective sigil. He wonders how he missed it.

“And… This is kind of your thing, right? So I figured you’d be better prepared to deal with it than some overworked clinic that might even not have enough free equipment to help us. Good think I did, too” he gestures at his friend, whose face is now looking flushed; a sign both of growing health, and of the upcoming puke. Tim’s quick to turn her so her back is to his chest, head tilted down just in case.

As if rehearsed, Alley chose that exact second to empty the contents of her now flushed stomach. Tim would need a sample of that, to catch the responsible dealer.

Tom held her hair away from her face while Tim kept her steady, and she blinked bearily at them after it was done, still not completely lucid but a world away from the girl she was ten minutes ago.

“She’ll still need a hospital.'' Tim informs Tom sternly. The boy had taken his friend in his arms again, softly rubbing her back to help with the uncomfortable ache leftover after puking your guts out. “The Moench’s Row clinic should be able to help with any side effect, but she’s safe for now.”

He nods, thanks Tim again and again and politely refuses his help to take her to the clinic. They part ways, both parties probably thinking this would be the last time they saw each other.

Still, their situation sticks with Tim during the rest of his patrol, and he decides to stop by the clinic, just to check on them. His knuckles still ache from the absolute beating he delivered to the ones who gave Alley the money and sold her the drugs, so he’s in better spirits and hopes to spread it to the kids.

Alley is awake when he visits, and her shy, little smile is enough for the rage inside of Tim to die down. The bad guys dealt with, the civilians safe, everything in its proper place.

He sleeps a bit better that night.

---.----

He almost doesn’t see him.

Actually, he probably wouldn't have, deeply lost into his own head, had the guy been anything other than a redhead. That exact shade of orangy-brown auburn, that he would have to pick up from his workbench at Titan’s tower after Bart had decided to ‘keep him company’ during his all-nighters.

It was ironic, how now he would give anything in the world to have those same strands of hair fucking up his experiments, if only for the impish, ‘please-don’t-kill-me-I’m-an-angel’ smile he would receive in exchange.

“Hey”, he greets, landing softly at the man’s right, sitting a few feet away from him, too tired to even stand up on common ground. “What’s happening?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t. His own mental health was less than stellar, and even thinking about it made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to feel bad, not when civilians were in the hospital after his latest fuck up, Cass was missing, Cassie barely hanging in there, the family a mess with Damian’s lovely introduction, and… well. Every other person he knew…

Point being, there must be someone else, in a better inner place, that could speak to this guy. But since no one seemed to be patrolling this route, Tim could only hope to stall him long enough for a more capable vigilante to show up.

The guy looks startled, then angry. He has green eyes, he notices, under the glasses. Not sure why that sticks to him.

“What are you doing here? You’re not going to try to stop me, are you? You’re not going to swing down and catch me in mid air or something, are you?”

He seems defensive, but Tim notices a bit of hesitancy. He has worked with less.

(He wishes he had more energy to do more with what little he has)

“No. If I did, what’s to stop you from doing it again later, or tomorrow? I can’t be with you every second. If you want to do this, you are going to, no matter how much I don’t want you to. And I don’t want you to, just so we are clear.”

The guy still looks suspicious, but he hasn’t taken that last step forward, so… a win?

“I just needed to sit down for a minute. ‘been thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up lately, and…”

Auburn-hair deflates a little, turning away from Tim to examine the night sky. “Well, that makes two of us.”

The bat signal lights up the night. His newfound companion looks at it, then him. “Do you need to get that?”

“Nah. Batman will, and if he needs help he’ll call me.” Tim shrugs. He needs a coffee-power-up. He needs to sleep. He needs for his loved ones to not be dead.

He needs to see if there’s anything he can do for this guy.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re doing this? So someone can go to your family and friends to let them know?”

After all, if it was him who did it (and… wasn’t that food for thought?), he’d like Bruce and Dick to know why. To not… to not blame themselves.

Redhead looks annoyed again. Uh. A short fuse, this one.

“Don’t try any psychology, or try to make me feel guilty about hurting anyone… this isn't about anyone but me.”

He shouldn’t say it, but… “That’s pretty naive, but whatever. Tell me anyway.” He smirks a bit, then “Unless you’re in a hurry or something.”

He hears the guy (he really should ask his name) as he tells his story. A cold, clinical part of his mind recognizes the symptoms described almost unconsciously by the guy as depression. He would know, after all. The other part of him, the part that made him Robin, that made him human, discarded the label; there was much more to this guy than his illness, and he would treat him like it.

“So here I am,” he finishes, now sitting side by side with Tim, both their legs hanging above the bustling city. “Now’s when you tell me how stupid this is. That other people have much bigger problems, there’s hunger and war, and I’m weak because my problems are nothing next to stuff like that.”

Tim thinks of a father, desperately thinking his death would save his son’s life, when in fact it would have only made it worse. He thinks of a woman, so full of love and warmth, looking into the abyss and feeling empty inside. He thinks of a couple of kids, one hanging to life with nails and teeth, the other hanging to her just as fiercely.

He thinks about himself. About looking at a future version of himself, hating what he sees, and deciding to drown the bud before it can even flower. He thinks of sickly green water, of cloning equipment in a laboratory, of a phone falling to the ground after delivering him with more bad news.

He’s still in a bad place, still probably not the most capable person to be doing this, but a part of him is sure this is the right answer. The only answer.

“No. Your problems are worse than anyone else’s, because they are yours. I’ve... felt bad like you have, and some pretty bad things have happened to me.”

Red hair looks as tired as Tim feels, so it’s a surprise that he has enough energy to glance at him worriedly, hand stretching a bit in his direction in a half-formed attempt to comfort.

“You guys make it look so easy, swinging around, having fun… Things get bad for you, too?”

Tim looks down, and smiles. It’s a sad, bitter thing. He thinks about parents lost before ever connecting to them, about a girlfriend going away, a sister lost to the madness of their lives, about two best friends gone, one even dying in his arms.

He gives no details. Doesn’t talk about it all, just shares a little bit of himself. It’s only fair, after hearing about this guy’s demons. Misery loves company, doesn’t it?

“So what do you do? How do you deal with it?” the guy asks when he’s done, looking at Tim by the corner of his not-very-dry eyes.

Tim forces himself to remember. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes, Superman, Batman… everyone. I remember that I’m not alone, that things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to.”

Most of those were dead, but Tim is hit with the epiphany that not all of them are. He still has people. He still…

“And you’ve got people like that? That you can talk to?” asks the guy, tone both worried and hopeful. Tim stands up, does his best to look calm.

“Yeah. Your folks, and old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before… someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to your problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great… or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works. Want to come down from there and give it a try?”

The guy gets back to his feet, as Tim watches from behind. Having been in this situation before, the fear grabbing a hold of him isn’t new, but it's different. He thinks he's too worn down. It takes the edge off of any emotion.

Except hope. Hope still hurts like a sharp knife when it’s snatched away. He prays it won’t be, right now.

Green eyes (Jason- that’s who they reminded him of) look down, deep in thought. Then he turns, smiles at Tim. There’s hope in him too.

“Yeah, why not?”

They get down together. He gives him a few numbers and they have breakfast together. The guy promises to call his English teacher, at least. Tim promises himself to call his brother.

At least, he still has Dick.

---.----

He’s been putting off doing his rounds since he came back, he knows. But…

It changed him, a bit. Going around the world, dealing with his grief while staying on his toes, ready to break down one second and having to field off attacks from all sides the next, with the Demon’s honeyed whispers echoing in his ear and mind.

He’ll never tell anyone, just how tempting it had been. How much he had wanted to reach for that offered hand. To lay his head on someone’s shoulder and let the responsibility bleed from his.

Tim will never tell anyone, but he’ll always know. And it’ll always make him hate himself a little bit more.

So, he’s different now. And he’s scared- that the people he gave hope to, that he talked with, that he could never stop thinking about, even halfway across the world- that they won’t like this new, worn down him.

That Mr Harrinson the Good Father, Braided Hair Lady and her sweaters, the inseparable Stray Cats, the girl with the bright yellow cardigan, the kid with the scarred wrists, the woman with beautiful star-like freckles that she’ll hopefully pass on to her baby, the gentle giant man with calloused hands, the petite but fierce young teen with defiant eyes and dead name, the soft spoken girl with the loudest laugh, auburn-haired boy and his hopeful and sympathetic green eyes… and so, so many more. They all knew him, maybe not at his best, but certainly better than now. The boy that kept them from jumping had been a bright, magical Robin. The teen that came back to their city was dark, weary Red Robin. It felt kinda like he had cheated them, returning this broken version of himself to their doorsteps.

But he had to go check on all of them. Even if Cass (and it was such a relief, that even after he lost everything else, the return of his sister could at least be a speck of light in the mist of misery surrounding him) had promised to do so, there were so many of them… and she couldn't possibly remember everyone, all the time. And if anyone had fallen through the gaps… if anyone had stood on a rooftop, waiting for their Robin to save them, only to think ‘nobody cares’ as he didn’t show up…

Tim gets sick only thinking about it. If it did happen, then he needs to know. He has to carry their names with him, that’s the least he can do for failing them.

So he’ll go check on them… anytime now. Soon. The moment he gathers enough energy to climb back to his feet and get his grapple hook out.

...The city looks full of life, beneath him. Like it feels the return of its Knight. The end of the internal quarrel among it’s vigilantes, that almost tore it all apart. The relief in Nightwing, the hesitant peace in Red Hood, the mellowing of Robin.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the worst ways)

Maybe it also feels Red Robin’s emptiness. Maybe that’s why it's so lively down there, like the ground is calling to him, just as it did when Ra’s broke the window with his body.

He thinks... he won’t have to check on anyone, if he jumps. And that way, there will be no name to carry with him to his grave.

“Robin!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t do it, please!”

He startles. Hadn’t even noticed when he got to his feet, nor that one of them was hanging over the abyss. The fact that he wasn’t alone on that rooftop any longer hadn’t even breached his usually perfect spatial awareness.

They didn’t call for him, but the voices sounded distraught, they were close, and he was a former Robin, so he turned around, tired, but with obedience and service too ingrained in him to consider denying help to whoever it was.

It turned out, he wouldn't need to go make his rounds any longer. His rounds had come to him.

There were… too many people on this roof. It was way too crowded.

“Robin!”

It was one voice now, not a mixture of them, so he could identify the one yelling his former alias. Allison broke from the mob of people (and there were more still, filling in from the open rooftop door, like a never-ending stream…) to run to him, looking like she might have just jumped into his arms, if not for Tom clutching her hoodie to stop her a few feet from him. Good move, considering he was still balancing precariously on the edge.

“Alleycat?” he whispered, a little blown. She looked so different (magenta looked amazing on the tips of her hair, and she totally pulled off that lip piercing), but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’d been so relieved, when she first opened them after that dangerous overdose.

“We were so fucking worried, dude”, came from Tomcat just behind her, still gripping her hoodie (still keeping her safe; some things never change).

“I…”

“Where were you?” Maddie, not longer yellow but still wearing a cute cardigan, stepped up too.

“I’m… I’m not Robin”, he blurts out. They… knew it was him? It… like, obviously there was a new Robin, Damian was (still, but probably not for much longer) smaller than him, but to immediately know that he was…

“Yeah, no shit. I’d know that long hair and noodle limbs of yours anywhere, kid. Known you too long to be fooled. And the new kid’s really trigger happy with that lon’nife of his... You’re still the Robin I prefer, and fuck if I understand the name passing you heroes do” Mr Harrinson spoke from the back of the crowd, one hand clutching his kid’s shoulder, the other arm around…

“Braided Hair Lady?”

Eloise smiles at him, soft and warm as ever, a little shy when his eyes go to the arm hugging her close and back to her. He recognizes some of her handmade scarfs around the necks of plenty of people on the roof.

“I… wasn’t aware you all knew each other.”

A petite young teen steps forward, walking until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the Strays.

“Most of us met through the app, and then introduced the others. There’s more, of course, but not everyone could meet here. Samantha’s baby was born just two months ago, so she chose to stay home, but we promised her pictures, so you’ll have to say cheese soon birdboy. Also, I found my name. I’m Cal.”

Allison’s smile broadened and she sneaked an arm around Cal’s waist.

“They are the new Straycat. Calico cat’s are the cutest shit ever, aren’t they?”

Well… Having someone as badass as Cal watching Tom and Alley’s back would sure make Tim feel a lot better about both kids being out in the streets.

Were they still on the streets? He’d need to find out and fix that, soon.

Then it hit him. “What app?”

Auburn-hair smiled from his place, at the front of the crowd just behind the Cats.

“Felix over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at Mr Harrinson’s son, who smiled shyly at Tim, eyes shining in gratitude and admiration like they always did when Tim did his rounds and checked on his dad, “defended you in a GothamHeroes forum once. Some bratty douchebag was complaining about you landing over his car or something and this kid went for his fucking troath.”

“I was in that chat too,” spoke Tom, smiling a little too savagely for a kid that sweet. “He tore the idiot to shreds, speaking about how you saved his dad’s life and took it upon yourself to make sure he was still okay even weeks after you met. I mentioned how you saved Alley and Mrs Denvarow, we exchanged numbers… then we met Cal during one of our rounds handing out Mrs D’s scarfs and food. They were weary of everyone else, but trusted us because they heard you talk about the clothes and baked goods... And Cal’s friend Gina worked with Samantha on the streets and told them about her story...”

“Soon, it seemed like people personally saved by you were just… popping out of the snow like daisies” Blair laughed, and it was still the loudest, brightest noise. The night seemed a little clearer, the air a little fresher for it. “Felix made his own private chat and added us, and we added everyone else we knew… The word went around about it, and more and more people joined in…”

“It’s really a wonder how you had any time to fight crime, seeing how often you were apparently comforting jumpers on the roofs” Ailbert, still as gigantic and gentle as always, raised a hand from the middle of the group. He had a little girl on his shoulders, probably the baby niece he had taken in after his sister’s death.

“Then the new kid appeared and Gotham went to hell on a basket, and no one saw you around any longer”, Elijah, wrists no more scarred than the last time he saw him, his arm tangled with Maddie’s, went on. “We were… well, we were a bit confused.”

“Speak for yourself, Cal jumped Red Hood one night, held him at knife point and demanded to know what the fuck happened to our Robin. We were like, zero chill.”

“Sorry, they did what?” Tim was definitely in the twilight zone now.

“No thoughts, head empty, only murder”

...Tim needed to give Jason a quick call. Also sign Cal up for anger management. And probably, judging by the way both Alley and Tom were looking at them, get one of the adults to give them the talk.

Mrs Eloise smiled at him, and like always it served to calm his nerves. That woman was a different kind of magic than Alfred, but magic indeed. “Anyway, dear, what matters is that we were worried about you. And then this incredible young man, Aaron,” she waved at him, and he winked one of his green eyes in response, “suggested we kept in closer contact with one another, so anyone who spotted you could inform the others.”

Aaron shrugged, his auburn mane of hair bobbing with the movement. “It just seemed like it’d be easier to have an alarm set up, since messaging everyone would take so long… and then someone suggested making a map of Gotham so we could have clearer routes for the kids handing out Mrs Denvarow’s stuff… and someone wanted a shared blackboard to write theories on where the fuck you were with others… and a few demanded a space to share photos, possible sightings or old selfies with you… It kinda spiralled and I thought it’d be less of a chaotic mess if I made an app that could do all of that, instead of all of us using multiple apps for the different fixtures everyone asked for… Since this is Gotham, we also added some Rouge Alarm for whenever a criminal was set loose. It helped keep us safe, and if we knew when crime was happening, we could pay attention to which heroes answered the call…”

“And then, you fought that firefly guy the other day”, Felix said, still by his dad’s side, still looking as awed as ever when looking at tim. “I was in the crowd, and I recognized you within a minute.”

“I don’t really understand technology that well, and the group chat was such a mess that day” Ailbert lamented, but he was still smiling. They all were.

That hit Tim then, hard.

They all looked so happy to see him. To have him back. They had been waiting for him to be back, banded together to make sure they’d all know when he did.

“You looked so sad the last time we saw you” Blair added softly, sadly. “And… when you saved Aaron, you told him about such sad things…”

Elijah winced “And I heard the Midnighter fell from Wayne Tower a few weeks ago, but then he was never seen around again, and your suit looks kinda similar, so that was probably really you… and, that fall…”

“We were very worried” repeated Eloise, but her eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “But you’re back now, and we can keep track of you and each other now, so it’s all good. It’s wonderful to have you back, love.”

This was an out of body experience.

Something must have shown on his face, because Cal snorted.

“We adore you, you dumbass. You are our hero.”

Alley smiled. “You are our Robin.”

Tim fell into her arms, and away from the roof’s edge. The rest of the crowd was upon them in seconds, all eager to pat his back or joke about the cowl hiding his hair from their hands.

He met eyes with Aaron, over Alley’s shoulder. He looked like the hope Tim had helped plant in his heart all those months ago had flowered, and the petals filled his heart.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the best ways)

“You should download the app too, so you always have someone to talk to. Look it up. It’s called BirdWatchers, because we’ll always look up and out for you. Because when we wanted to jump, you lended us your wings to fly instead.”

It was like this fucker wanted Tim to cry.

“Welcome home, Red Robin.”

#My writing #Tim drake #batman fanfic #red robin #trigger warning:#depression #suicide attempts #discussion of suicide #overdose #mental illness #hurt comfort #Tim doing the comfort and being the hurt #until he gets the comfort #happy ending #wholesome #I swear the tags are scary but it IS wholesome #Tim drake centric #my writting

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laffodil-daffodil · 3 years

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The day was beatifull. The birds were singing happily, the peacefull sound of the water running from rivers near by. Everything seemed quiet, calm. Nothing could ruin the moment of peace the forest was having.

The peace, however, did not reach everything.

The sound of a door slamming closed interrupted the calm, the sudden and loud noise resonating trough the forest, cutting the quietness like a knife would do to butter.

Regulus ran out of the cabin door in a hurry, muttering scoldings to himself under his breath. Just this morning (when he was going to make himself some breakfast) he realized that he had no food left (it was obvious, he went hunting over a month ago, the fact that he was too lazy and too depressed were the things that kept him all day on his bed)

He decided to go to the nearest town, he had some money on him from when he helped an old couple out with their strawberry cultives (the couple then gave him a wood box full of strawberrys', which he ate almost inmediatly after he got home).

Regulus never went to towns or villages or cities anymore, faking your own dead didn't allowed you to go in public (being from The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black didn't help eithet). Besides, all that he needed he could find it in the woods.

Like in the books Sirius read to him when he was a kid, like a bedtime story, and he would wait patiently until Sirius tip-toed to his room as quietly as possible so he wouldn't wake up Walburga and then give her a reason to beat them up and-

He stopped himself from remembering more. He always stopped himself from remembering things from his past, from when the time things weren't perfect but they weren't hell either.

He hasn't heard of his parents for years now, and even more less from Sirius (being supposedly dead kept you from keeping track of things outside from your bubble). He just hoped Sirius was finally happy, maybe even be together with that best friend of his (Remus, was it? He couldn't remember quite well his name), he always saw how his brother looked at the other guy with eyes full of adoration, like if Remus had brought him all of the stars in the nightsky.

He hoped his parents were dead, too. They deserved it, after all the shit they made Sirius and him go trough, all of those nights awake hearing his brothers' screams, or the banging of the metal door they locked Sirius in.

And when Sirius left, when his brother was finally physically free from them (because no, Sirius would never be completly free from them, neither of them both would ever be) ,it all just got worse from there. For Regulus, that is. His skin got paler and his eyes got duller, but he felt relief. His brother (the only one he had, the one he held close to his heart, even after being ignored) was finally out of the house they called home.

Regulus noticed (since the day Sirius ran away from "home") that his skin got healthier and his eyes got brighter, unlike him.

Regulus felt relief that his brother was finally able to be freely happy, to be able to love whoever the fuck he wanted to love, to wear whatever he wanted to wear. He truly was.

But what about me, Regulus thought, as he entered the little magical village. I want my happy ending, too. He knew he shouldn't ask for more, he should be more gratefull that he finally, after so much fighting, was finally free from his parents' grasp.

So why wasn't he?

He said an apology under his breath to the old witch that bumped into him, and while she was yelling profanities at him while picking up her groceries, he continued to walk down the crowded street.

Regulus saw, from the corner of his eyes, an old looking bookstore. He walked towards it and pushed the glass door open, might as well buy some more books, no?

The little bell anounnced his entrance to the people inside the shopp, not that anyone cared about it.

Regulus made a bee-line towards the mitology section and picked up two books. One had a deep red cover, with bold golden letters as a tittle. The other had a black cover in its totallity, (also) with bold golden letters.

He made his way towards the front desk to pay for the books, when a wood table that had the newspaper got his attention.

He didn't exactly knew why did it catch his attention, he just knew that he just had to check it out (something in the deepest part of his heart told him to do so).

So he followed his instinct.

"MURDERER SIRIUS BLACK, ARRESTED FOUR YEARS AGO AT THE AGE OF TWENTY-TWO, WAS CAUGHT YESTERDAYS' NIGHT TRYING TO ESCAPE AZKABAN"

He what

Regulus lowered the paper a little and stared at it with incredulity. Sirius was arrested?

Sirius was arrested four years ago?

Regulus did the counts on his head. Four years ago he faked his death to be free, when he tought Sirius wasn't in fucking prison? What in the actual fuck?

He lifted the paper a little with shacky and malhourised hands, those hands that were once soft and didn't know hard work, now, those hands were covered in scars, all of them because of years in the woods, from cutting trees and building his small cabin and fighting wild animals to survive.

He did all of that to survive, all of this- he did it for himself.

He was enjoying freedom while his brother (the brother who neglected you after being choosen in a rival house, the brother who, in a far away past, held your hands on his own and looked at you in the eyes and told you everything was going to be alright) was in prison for murderer, something Regulus believed was false.

Sirius would never kill anyone, Regulus was sure of that.

But that didn't mattered, no. It didn't make any difference to Regulus. His brother ignoring him didn't changed anything, the younger still loved him with all his heart, with all that he had.

His silver eyes looked at the newspaper again, a burning fire making its way into his heart.

"Sirius Black is responsable of the death of a wizard, Petter Pettigrew and thirtheen muggles"

Okay, now Regulus was one-hundred percent sure that his brother had been framed. Regulus knew his brother would never kill muggles, besides, wasn't Petter Pettigrew one of his closest friends?

He continued reading, he needed as much information as he could find. He reached the end of the paragraph, and one or two drops of sweat appeared in his temple.

"-Black is now behind the bars again, the security involving him has increased and is now stronger than ever."

Okay, Regulus wasn't freaking out at all, why would he? The fact that his brother is in fucking Azkaban doesn't inmediatly means he will freak out, nu huh.

Because he is a calm, cool-headed individual, yes he is.

He was not freaking out, and anyone who said otherwise is a liar.

Steps resonated in the small wood cabin owned by the younger heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Regulus swears he can hear his own hearbeats, beating in his ears and, somehow, telling him to do something, anything.

He doesn't quite know what to do, what to expect of this. This was crazy, right?

He knows it is, so why was he having second thoughts?

Do it, Reg. Just go for it, what could go wrong? A small voice says inside his head. It sounds deep and raspy, but also (for some reason) bubbly and playfull. ‘Like Sirius', he thinks.

Is it risky? Yes, definitly so. Would it be possibly worth it? He hopes so.

This is one-hundred percent a crazy, impulsive idea, but he was willing to try and give it a shot if it meant his brother would read him bedtime storys at night again.

He just wants his brother back, was that too much to ask?-

‘But it is! That lazy blood-traitor scum left you behind, for you to rot in that house, all by yourself while he had fun!’ A different voice screams at him and Regulus flinches, because it sounds so much like his mothers' voice it scares him to the bone.

"Please stop talking..." He begs to the empy room. He takes a shacky breath-in to try and get these voices of people that are not even there with him out of his head.

‘Reggie please listen to me! You have to get me out! I know you can do it, you're really smart!’ Sirius says inside his head, and Regulus can almost imagine him with puppy eyes while saying it.

‘Don't listen to that disgrace, Regulus! You are better than that, you will not hear whatever nonsense comes out of that stupid boys' mouth-’ ‘Im not stupid, you are the one in the wrong, Regulus knows-’ ‘Regulus will know best than to hear anything from you, unlike you, he knows what is best for him-’ ‘Like if you would know what is best for him-’

He feels overwhelmed, the voices are yelling at him to do things and Regulus doesn't know who to hear. He feels his heart beating faster, and he can hear his shaky breaths, and he feels the sweat in his forehead, and his hands in his ears-

"Stop!" Regulus yells, and the voices grow quiet. Hot tears stream down of his face as his knees make contact with the floor of wood.

The voices aren't talking anymore, but he still covers his ears tightly. He wants to get rid of the uncomfortable weight his chest has on it. He wants the headache that is starting to form to go away.

Suddlendly, its like he's five all over again. Just, this time, Sirius is not around to hug him.

Sirius wasn’t going to be around ever again.

Regulus tries to calm down. Breath in, breath out. He was going to be alright, he would find a way. He always does. He’s smart, Sirius always said so.

He remains kneeled on the floor for what feels like an hour, but were probably just two minutes (for him, it felt like a whole lifetime).

Regulus sighs and starts to stand up slowly, like if he went a little bit more quicker, then everything around him would dissapear in an instant.

Supporting his body on the wooden walls (he is still too dizzy to walk by himself, still too weak), Regulus makes his way towards his small bed made out of straw he borrowed (stole) and throws himself at it, exhausted of the events of today.

He has a plan, it is all clear in his mind already. And altough he is scared (of being taken to Azkaban, of dying while trying to save Sirius), a feeling he is not familiar with snuggles inside his chest. It has been there before, Regulus knows it has. (It feels like greeting an old friend who was there for you in your lowest point, but then dissapeared out of the blue. Regulus knows its name, but he can't shake its hand like old buddies would).

And then he closes his eyes and dreams about how his life has been so far. How cold it has been, how lonely it all felt (And Regulus wishes it would had passed like a blurr, (like when you zone out in a conversation and you miss a part of it) but it didn't, and Regulus hates that).

The next morning he wakes up with a headache that forces him to close his eyes tightly.

In all honestly, Regulus feels like shit, both physically and mentally.

Feelings suck, and he would stand by that until the day he became nutrients to the Earth.

He sits on the uncomfortable excuse of a bed slowly, trying not to make his headache worse than it already is. He sits there for a minute or two, before deciding to stand up and go see if there is anything he can eat.

He believes he bought food yesterday, but he couldn't really be sure about that. Everything that he did after reading that newspaper was blank, there was no memory of something else happening after that whatsoever.

His legs are better now that he rested properly. 'There is nothing a good nap can't cure!' Regulus remembers Sirius' voice telling him one day, after Walburga went particularly rough with the Cruciatus Curse on them.

Regulus remembers, that same night, Sirius cuddled up to him on his bed, and held him tight against his chest. Regulus never got in the way when Walburga was insulting Sirius, but that time he did. It did not end pretty.

They both ended up getting tortured, Regulus more than Sirius that time.

They were ten and six at that time.

Now he realized that he, in fact, did bought food yesterday. Some bread and cheese, along with a loaf of bread that didn't look in the best condition (he couldn't really afford that much after all, there was so much a few coins could buy).

As he started cutting some of the bread, he tought about his options, about what he could do and about what was out of the question.

Regulus could only think about two viable options that would (probably) (hopefully) decrease the chances of everything going wrong.

One (this one was crazy) he could try and become an animagus. An animal form would surely help him get in and out of the prison.

Now, that option would take him months of preparations, maybe even years.

(He knows most wizards and witches with animagus form had taken several years to even figure out how to become an animagus, but he is Regulus Black for Godric's sake. He isn't most wizards)

(He is better than most, after all)

The black-haired male stands there in the middle of his tiny kitchen, a knife still in his left hand. He thinks he has an idea, someone who would surely help him if he asked.

But in order to ask them, he would have to find them first.

Where exactly are you, Remus Lupin?

. . .

Remus wasn’t having a good morning (he never was having anything good). First, he woke up past 6 am and ended up arriving late at work (again), and his boss yelled at him for 5 minutes (again), and then, oh and then, he ended up getting fired (AGAIN), which, by the way, was the cherry on top to his shitty morning, and it wasn’t even 1 in the afternoon yet.

Now he would have to search for any jobs that would accept him, again (this was the second time in the month that he was fired from a job; in the first one he may or may not had punched a co-worker (in his defense, the bastard was talking shit about a female co-worker, and Remus just got really really angry).

And as he stomped angrily in the direction where his house was, he came to realize that he fucked this up really bad. Now he had no job, not even one kind of support to survive another month, and he sure as hell didn’t have any friends to go back to if things got more rough.

Ah, now he’s just sad.

He glanced at the plants and flowers growing at the sides of the road made of dirt, and he remembers.

Remus remembers the times when he used to be happy, when his only concern was passing his exams and not letting his crush on Sirius (oh Sirius, i miss you terribly) showing up and exposing him. When he would hang out with Lily at the library, and talk about how classes were starting to get more difficult as the days passed, or how they would gossip and talk badly about Severus ("-and have you seen his hair today?"), and they would talk and talk, and then talk some more.

Or when he would help James with his game plans, and they would stay up until the sun appeared again at the next day. Or when he would bake with Peter at the schools' kitchen at really late hours at night.

And he remembers, too, the times when he would look at Sirius and he would just get lost in his silver eyes. And Remus would look at him like Sirius was the most beatifull being in the would (in his eyes, he was).

He misses those times, he yearns for them. He wants them back, with all of his heart.

Life has always been rough for him, its just the way things are.

Because he deserved it.

(or so his father said)

Remus sees his little house at a distance. It looks deteriorated and in ruins, that house. The wild flowers are all around it, and there’s plants climbing on the walls and covering the windows.

He sees a cloaked figure standing on his porch, and Remus feels fear.

But he won’t show it, no, he won’t, ‘because fear is for cowards’ , his father would say, and the voice he would use left no room to question him.

“Can i help you with something?” Remus says, loud and clear.

The person in black tensed, and turned around to face Remus slowly, like if they were scared (’of what?’ Remus wondered, but he kept quiet- like he always does)

Facing each other, silver and brown met.

“Oh”

The wind roared from outside, strong and merciless as ever. It made the trees dance and the leaves from them to roam free on the sky.

The raindrops that fell from the sky were hitting on the glass of the window with force, on the roof, on the dirt. It left nothing untouched.

“How have you been, Remus?” The man in question turned his gaze from the window to the person in-front of him. The years had taken a ton from him, it seemed. Yet, the beauty he owned many years ago had not left him, no. It made him even more handsome, Remus concluded. His silver eyes (oh, his eyes were so smilar to his Sirius’-) were bright, a shine in them Remus has never seen before in the younger man.

Remus gripped the handle of his mug of tea. The sweet honey tea with lavender inside of it warmed his hands, full of calluses and old scars, it soothed him and the pains he felt in them. “You should be dead” He says, looking at the eyes of Regulus, searching (searching?) for an answer to his one-hundred-and-one questions.

“Let me explain, Remus. Please, would you listen to what i have to say?” Regulus says, and he sounds so hurt, so exhausted and done with everything. He says nothing in response, just goes back to looking out of the window, where the wind and rain still are. Where everything follows its course.

“I faked my death...that night i-, i saw an opportunity and i took it, and then i--”

“You left Sirius” Remus says, and the voice that comes out of him sounds so not like him, so aggressive and upset and loud and so much like his voice-

Still, Remus doesn’t back off. He looks up at Regulus and flinches. He looks so upset and angry, like Remus just did something so disgusting and wrong that he can’t take it.

Those silver eyes (One of the distinguished features of the oh so noble and honorary Black Family) burn in his soul like silver things burns in his skin. And it’s terrifyng and powerful in equal portions.

“He left me behind first, Remus” Regulus says, his voice filled with venom and as aggressive as Remus’ voice before. “He left me behind the moment i got into Slytherin” He adds, and Remus can hear his erratics breaths over the muffled sound of rain.

They stay silent, for a while. Not wanting to fight but not wanting to talk either.

“Why are you here, Regulus? We hardly ever talked back at Hogwarts, so i can’t imagine a reason behind your visit” Remus finally says. With the new need to do something (-anything), he stands up from the badly hand-made wood chair and takes his mug of half finished and still warm tea, walking with rapid steps towards the tiny kitchen connected to the living room. He occupies his hands with cutting the remains of the bread he baked yesterday.

“I came to ask you for a favor “ He starts “,you see-- Don’t look at me like that, Remus, hear me out first” Regulus says, and stands up too.

The black haired male takes a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something difficult to speak out loud. “Sirius is innocent, Remus, i am sure of it”

Everything goes silent from there. Remus can’t hear a thing because of the annoying ringing in his ears, and even before muffled sound of the rain is in the background now. He sees Regulus moving his mouth, and Remus is sure he is saying something (most probably something important), but he can’t hear a thing.

And Remus is so angry right now. It bubbles in his chest, from deep beneath with all of the emotions he repressed all of those years, and if he doesn’t calm down now then it’s going to explode. What could Regulus know anyways? He wasn’t even there in the first place! He was too bussy faking being dead, and hiding somewhere away from civilitation, like the stupid coward he is.

(Remus know he is a coward too, he knows it all too well. Because he knows that, (deep down) Sirius is innocent. He just hasn’t come to terms with it because he is so angry and he feels so betrayed and-- how could them leave him behind like this?) (Remus knows that he is stupid, too, because all he wants is someone to blame for the death of Lily and James and Peter-- someone to blame for little Harry slipping away from his fingers like sand)

(And Remus knows that he is a hypocrite, too)

“...--and you know, Remus, that Sirius would never do such a thing, we both know it!” Regulus says, his voice sounds more clear now, less muffled and silent. And it sounds so desperate, begging for understanding and someone to hear him out.

“Those were his best friends, and even i -that a i wasn’t even close to him-, knows that is a fact! He couldn’t had killed them like that!” He yells, and Remus feels sick.

“...get out...” The words come out of his mouth before he can register them, just above a whisper.

“What?”

“I said get out!” He shouts at Regulus, the boiling feeling of anger finally snaps inside of him, and now he just wants someone to yell at, someone to discharge all of his repressed emotions at.

And he does. Before he knows it, Regulus is out of his house and into the pouring rain, because Remus takes his wand out of his back pocket and yells a ´Crucio!’ and fires it to Regulus, who dodges and sprints out of the house.

And Remus is all alone again, inside of that small and old house, with the feeling of anger and guilt and sadness washing over him.

He feels his knees too weak to support him, and falls to the floor with a ‘thud!’. And for the first time since his loved ones left him, for the first time since his life fell apart, he allows himself to cry and yell.

And he feels like a little kid again.

. . .

Okay, Regulus admits, the plan did not work out like he thought it would.

Maybe he did broke the news too strongly, he kind of got angry at first. But it wasn’t really his fault, Remus said something he couldn’t even had known! His relationship with Sirius and how broken it was wasn’t any of his business.

But it’s fine, Regulus can do this on his own. It’ll be harder, but he’ll do it.

No matter the cost.

Two years pass by and Regulus is ready to start with the second and hardest part of his plan. Getting Sirius out of prison.

It too him a whole year and a half to even figure out how to become an animagus, and the other half of the year to learn how to switch to his animal form. But he’s finally ready, and he is so excited to mend things with Sirius and be brothers again.

Now he’s standing on the port, unleashing the rope that’s tied to a boat he’s about to steal. The boat is old, but it looks solid still. Regulus wonders what kind of adventures it has lived, the people it has carried, the tales it had heard from other peoples’ mouths.

Regulus gets in the boat before it couldbfloat away from shore, and sits.

He feels the texture of the wood under him. It's cold and damp, and he can feel the old carves in the wood forming the word he assumes reads 'fishy'.

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head side to side. Probably a little kid wrotte that.

Maybe many years ago, a family had a trip to catch fishies in this very boat. Regulus pictures a father and his youngest son, on a sunny day, in this boat. The father tries to teach his son how to catch a fish, but the child, as most little kids usually do, gets bored with the waiting and as there's no other way of entertaiment, he carves the word on the old boat.

He wishes that instead of being in this situation, in the thick, thick fog, he would be fishing with his older brother. He wishes things turned out differently.

Regulus wishes he could live his youth with his brother, instead of trying to rescue him from a crime he definitely did not commit.

Oh, Regulus wishes were so many. But those were only wishes, thoughts that are in the past now. Realities that already lost their chances to exist a long time ago.

And with these thoughts clouding his mind like the fog cloudes his vision, Regulus grabs the oars and starts paddling.

The splinters in the oar feel like nothing against his tough and scarred hands, instead of hurting him, they keep him on the real world, away from the one where he goes when everything is too much, when he loses himself.

Regulus doesn't know how many hours went by until he could see the impotent building that was Azkaban. And as he was nearing it, the waves kept rocking his small boat, threatening him to flip.

He wonders if everything he's doing right now would be enough. He wonders, as the boat flips harshly to its side and throws him off of it into the freezing water, if Sirius knows he loves him more then life itself.

Regulus doesn't fight back the cold water, not at all. Instead, he lets it settle in his bones, in his belly, in his lungs.

If being held feels like this, then Regulus decided he liked it. No one ever held him before, maybe as a baby, but as he grew older, the only one who held him close was Sirius.

Sirius... who is Sirius, exactly?

He tries to remember, he feels the name belongs to an important person, but his mind is as numb as his arms and legs feel, if not even more.

It doesn't matter, he thinks, because im dying anyways.

Life is cruel, he decides with a heavy feeling in his chest, as his heavy body sinks him deeper and deeper on the ocean.

He'll be sleeping forever next to sand and rocks and corals of multiple colours, and the black of his hair will meld perfectly next to them.

Regulus doesn't fight, but he dies with a ball of hatred and love and yearning in his heart. He'll be dreaming for eternity of wishes and unspoken words, of hugs and arms that will never hold him ever again.

Life is cruel, and Regulus Black knows it all too well.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

IM SORRY I JUST COULDN'T GIVE THE BLACK BROTHERS AND REMUS THEIR HAPPY ENDING SKSNEKEMS what can i say, im a sucker for an angsty ending.

anyways, this was inspired by this blog (https://eronlupett.tumblr.com/post/642858372635475968/i-need-a-writer) by ". and before you mentuon it, yes, i was going to writte a happy ending, i just couldn't, like, cmon on, it was right there, i couldn't resist.

i had lots of fun writting this, but it still took me almost 5 months to finish it lolz. guess i just didn't had the motivation.

let me know what you think of my witting style, or if you have any opinions, just dont b disrespectful!

byebye^^

#Remus Lupin #Sirius orion black #regulus black #lily james #lol this sucks #angst headcanon #harry potter angst #bad ending #im honeslty not sorry #im an asshole hehe #no fluff

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atlabeth · 3 years

Text

talking to the moon

summary: dealing with the aftermath of the worst event of your life.

pairing: sokka x fem!reader but solely platonic. stan big brother sokka

a/n: this became so much longer than i initially meant for lmao. it was just supposed to be sokka and y/n talking but then i. wrote the whole death scene and a whole backstory and. im sorry. i made myself sad while writing this

wc: 4.1k

warnings: so much angst, death, mentions of suffocation, mentions of arranged marriages, one mention of blood, one single curse i think, lots of anger and lots of sadness but some fluff at the end

based on the song “talking to the moon” by bruno mars

living in the northern water tribe wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

as a waterbender, it should’ve been a perfect haven. a renowned master to teach her how to fight and become a master herself, a constant feeling of power being around ice and water all the time, and a comfortable life as the daughter of two important councilmembers that worked alongside chief arnook.

but the only thing y/n had come to know of this place was a complete and utter loss of freedom.

she wasn’t allowed to learn martial waterbending simply because she was a woman. master pakku wouldn’t even give her the time of day, and when she complained to her parents they cited century-long traditions and told her that was just how things were.

y/n felt comfortable being around water and ice all the time, but it’s not like the power of the moon helped her when she hardly knew anything in the first place. it was slightly easier to try and teach herself new techniques that she learned from watching master pakku and his students, but it still almost always ended in failure.

and of course, her noble heritage simply meant that she would be married off once she reached the appropriate age for the benefit of her family. yippee.

but there was one benefit that came along with being the daughter of nobles that worked closely with the chief.

princess yue.

she was without a doubt the nicest girl that y/n had ever known, and they quickly became each other’s closest friends. y/n thought that maybe she wouldn’t like her because yue was two years her senior, but it didn’t matter in her eyes. yue showed y/n a side that she never showed anyone else; the carefree, energetic, loving side. the side that told y/n fantastical stories while they rode together the waterways. the side that encouraged y/n to waterbend whenever she could and to try as hard as possible to get the martial techniques down because ‘i know you can do it!’ the side that was absolutely fascinated by her waterbending, the side that shrieked in surprise then dissolved into giggles every time y/n soaked her at the end of the session.

yue was the bright light in y/n’s boring days, and y/n was a needed reprieve from yue’s duties.

the young girls didn’t know that there was so much coming for them.

team avatar visiting y/n’s home was one of the most exciting things to happen to her. it was like a breath of fresh air in the monotony of her life, and it didn’t take too long for y/n to become friends with all of them at the celebratory dinner the night they arrived.

y/n and katara instantly struck off. as waterbenders of the same age they already had a connection, but it was only strengthened the longer they stayed. y/n had never cheered so loud when she fought against pakku.

it was impossible not to like aang. he was even younger than y/n with an infectious positive attitude and a smile always on his face. he even offered to help teach her waterbending along with katara after learning from pakku, which was a great plan until it wasn’t.

her association with sokka came from her association with yue. he was infatuated with the princess almost immediately — it wasn’t a surprise, y/n was sure every boy in the tribe had a crush on her in some form — but he was also very kind to y/n. as time went on, they developed more of a sibling-like bond and y/n loved it. she was an only child raised to the highest expectations, but she was allowed to let loose around sokka. it also helped to see him make a fool in front of himself every time her and yue were together.

things were looking up for y/n. she had three new friends that all liked her best friend, and she was actually learning a little bit more about fighting with waterbending from katara. everything was perfect.

until the fire nation attacked.

y/n had been with yue and sokka when they saw the black snow and immediately rushed back to the tribe to warn everyone. that was how a fourteen year old noble girl who barely knew how to defend herself like y/n got involved in a fight against the fire nation.

after rescuing aang from zuko and, at aang’s request, bringing the unconscious prince with them, they started traveling back to the spirit oasis. y/n sat in the back of the saddle with sokka and yue, a new friend and her oldest friend, when yue suddenly grabbed her head with a small groan. y/n looked around and the world around them had turned red as blood. something was very wrong.

“are you okay? sokka asked, reaching for her instinctively as if to protect her from whatever was hurting her.

“i.. i feel faint,” she muttered.

“i feel it too,” aang added. “the moon spirit is in trouble.”

y/n’s eyes widened as she stared back at yue, horror dancing in her eyes as she shook her head. “no, no it can’t be. yue, you know what that means—”

it wasn’t hard to catch onto the fearful tone in her voice and katara set an amicable hand on her shoulder. “what are you talking about, y/n?”

thankfully, yue took over. “i owe the moon spirit my life.”

“what do you mean?” sokka’s eyes went between y/n and yue, y/n’s worried gaze trained on yue as she explained how the moon spirit had given her life as a baby. when she was done, the water tribe siblings were staring at her in disbelief.

“if the moon spirit is in danger then we need to save it.” y/n’s voice was hardened as they got closer to the spirit oasis, stretching her fingers out to get the blood flowing again in case she needed to bend. she didn’t know very much about combat besides what katara had taught her, but hopefully it would be enough to at least aid the rest of the team.

appa slid to a stop in the spirit oasis and aang, sokka, katara, and y/n all hopped off of his back and got into battle stances. sokka took out his boomerang, aang wielded his staff, and y/n and katara got ready to bend.

“don’t bother,” zhao spat. he held up the bag with tui and positioned his fist next to it, posing the very obvious threat. y/n’s eyes widened and her hands fell the slightest bit. he wouldn’t.

it turned out that he very well would.

y/n thought that they would be safe, that yue would be safe once he released the fish after iroh’s threat, but she should’ve known a man like that would never be satisfied. just as the normal hues of the oasis had returned, zhao let out a yell and blasted the koi with fire, plunging the world into various shades of grey.

y/n let out a strangled cry as she realized what it meant, and she wanted to unleash all of her fury on zhao. she wanted to make him hurt, make him understand just what he had done. but it seemed that general iroh already had that plan as he started firebending viciously, swiftly defeating the soldiers after zhao had gotten away.

y/n felt like she was in a haze, following through with her movements but not actually there. the four of them rushed towards the water and yue soon joined them, all looking down at tui in horror. the moon spirit was gone, dead, killed.

her worst fear had come true, and she stared at yue’s blue eyes, the only thing that still had color, mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of things to say.

“there’s no hope now,” yue mourned. “it’s over now.”

“no it’s not.”

y/n watched in amazement as aang merged with the ocean spirit and left to defend her home, but it melted away once again when she joined the siblings, iroh, and yue at the front of the water.

“it’s too late. it’s dead.” katara stared at the dead fish when iroh placed it back into the water. it truly did seem like it was over. y/n felt none of the usual power she felt at night. if she tried to bend, she knew nothing would happen.

iroh seemed to notice yue as she stepped closer and he raised his eyebrows. “you have been touched by the moon spirit. some of its life is in you.”

“yes, you’re right.” yue set her jaw and y/n immediately knew what she was thinking. “it gave me life. maybe i can give it back.”

“no!” y/n and sokka cried at the same time. y/n’s voice cracked and she had to do everything she could to prevent the tears from falling. “yue, no. you don’t have to do this.”

“it’s my duty, y/n.” her kind blue eyes, an image that would haunt y/n for years to come, glistened with unshed tears as she walked over to the oasis. this time sokka grabbed her hand to try and stop her.

“i won’t let you! your father told me to protect you!” sokka usually guarded his emotions but this time the fear in his voice was obvious, and it hurt. he didn’t want to lose her. he couldn’t lose her.

“i have to do this.”

y/n wanted to scream at yue to stop, try and knock some sense into her, hold the girl that she loved back from sacrificing herself. but she just stood there, frozen, as yue hovered her hands over the dead fish. tui began to glow, and yue collapsed.

y/n rushed over to her as sokka caught her and she fell to her knees. the tears were falling, she didn’t care, her friend was gone, she was dying. y/n felt yue’s ice cold hand on her arm and she grasped it with both of her own. her and sokka were barely holding it together as they watched the girl they both loved die in their arms.

“y/n..” her voice was already faint, she was using up all of her strength just to talk to them in her final moments. “thank you for everything. never forget what you are fighting for. i will always cherish our friendship.”

a choked sob escaped y/n’s lips and she gripped yue’s hand as tightly as she could, like maybe if she didn’t let go then she would come back. she couldn’t even hear what she said to sokka, all she could hear was the pounding in her head. this couldn’t be happening.

and then she was gone. the ice cold hand in y/n’s grip was gone, the girl they were cradling was gone, and in her place was just emptiness. iroh placed the koi fish back into the water and the entire oasis filled with light, and the energy around the lake turned into yue. she was ethereal. she was a spirit. she was gone.

yue came closer and wrapped y/n in a hug, feeling more like a gentle breeze than a real person hugging her. she then kissed sokka, and a faint smile graced her lips. “goodbye, i love you both. i will always be with you.”

and with that, she was gone.

y/n couldn’t hold it in anymore. she started sobbing, tears wracking her body and making it hard to breathe. she wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around sokka, burying her head in the space between his shoulder and his neck, and he returned the hug. they were just two kids who had watched a girl they loved sacrifice herself. what else could they do but hold each other and hope to all the spirits that they would be okay?

y/n left with aang, katara, and sokka when they decided to set course for omashu. she couldn’t stay at the northern water tribe. all it served as was a constant reminder of that fateful night, the night that she had lost her best friend. she saw yue in everything, and she knew she would lose her mind if she stayed. so she asked if she could join them on their journey, and they agreed. y/n felt a constant pit of emptiness and hoped that helping the avatar would absolve some of the guilt.

it didn’t.

“this is your fault, y/n.”

the blue eyes that haunted y/n so often appeared once again, staring back at her unflinchingly. there was a certain hardness behind them, a coldness that pervaded her skin, making its way to her heart. but she couldn’t look away.

“you should’ve been able to save me.” yue’s voice, normally soft spoken and kind, reverberated throughout the endless void y/n was trapped in.

she looked beautiful, otherworldly. the fabric of her dress floated around her at the edges and her white hair, the ever present reminder of her connection to the moon, flowed down her back. yue appeared the same as she had when she sacrificed herself, and it was the way she would look forever. y/n’s heart ached for her friend, knowing that she would never live out the rest of her life, never get to be the ruler she was meant to be.

she tried to talk, but her voice wouldn’t work. her throat felt like it was closing up slowly, and her limbs might as well have been cast in concrete with how heavy they all felt. yue’s icy glare disappeared from view, but her voice was still all around her.

“you did this to me. you’re the reason i’m dead. you should’ve been able to save me.”

the words repeated thousands of times on top of each other, becoming louder and louder that it was all she could focus on. y/n was suffocating underneath it all, she couldn’t take it. she wanted to sob out how sorry she was, tell yue that her biggest regret was not being able to save her, reach out and bring her into her world again. spirits, she wanted her best friend back so badly.

“YOU SHOULD’VE BEEN ABLE TO SAVE ME.” the words echoed through her skull so loudly that she felt like it was going to crack from sheer force.

y/n eyes suddenly flew open and she lurched upwards, breathing heavily, a scream on the edge of her lips that she was barely able to bite back. she clamped her hands over her mouth until she could be sure it wouldn’t come loose, and it took even longer for her breathing to get back to normal.

it didn’t look like she had disturbed the sleep of the others, but she couldn’t stay here. she got out of her sleeping bag and rushed out of their camp, making sure she stayed light on her feet so that the others could continue to rest. momo perked up as she ran past him, and y/n shook her head and raised a finger to her lips. he seemed to get the hint and went back to sleep, and with a strained smile y/n continued out.

it was at that moment that a certain water tribe boy groggily sat up, able to catch the end of a tunic dress disappearing into the woods after he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. he thought it was katara at first but a quick glance to his side proved that his sister was still asleep. it was y/n’s spot that was empty. he immediately knew why she was gone, and he got up to follow her; there was no way he was going to leave her alone right now. sokka didn’t exactly want to be alone either.

‘you should’ve been able to save me.’ they were words that never left y/n’s mind; at this point it was a part of her conscience. the princess had never actually said the words, her last moments had been spent reassuring y/n and sokka before she faded away, but it didn’t matter. she was constantly wracked by guilt, and though sokka did a good job at hiding it, she knew he felt the same way. she wondered if he was plagued by the same nightmares she had. it was no surprise it happened tonight of all nights — today marked one month since yue died.

no. since yue had been killed.

she might’ve given her life for the moon spirit willingly, but y/n blamed zhao, that fire nation admiral, for her death. he was the one that killed the moon spirit, so he was the one that had killed her best friend. she had never felt as much rage as she had in the moment that he blasted tui with fire.

she hoped he was dead.

y/n got to the edge of the woods and stared at the night sky, the slight breeze and the ambiance around her doing little to ease her mind. she sighed and leaned back against a tree, staring at the sky in hopes it would give her some kind of answer. but all it did was make her feel even worse.

i know you’re somewhere out there somewhere far away

yue was there. the moon was there, but yue was the moon so she was there. it felt like a cruel joke, having her so close but so far away. always within her sight but never in her reach. she longed for the days when she was able to pull the princess away from her duties to engage in a snowball fight with her friends or when yue asked her to show off her waterbending with the childlike wonder she never got to show or when things were normal and her friend wasn’t the fucking moon.

i want you back, i want you back

y/n felt the familiar stings of tears behind her eyes and she slowly slid against the tree until she was sitting on the ground. she bit the inside of her cheek so hard she drew blood in an effort to stop the tears, but it didn’t matter, they fell anyways.

the empty feeling she constantly carried with her got better over time, but tonight it was just coming back with full force. she was reminded of everything that she had lost and it hurt. spirits, it hurt so much.

my neighbors think i’m crazy but they don’t understand you’re all i have, you’re all i have

she pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out her feelings, when she heard some branches snap. she opened her eyes and looked up, the corner of her lips quirking up when she saw who it was.

“hi.” her voice was faint, barely noticeable, but it was all she managed to muster.

“hi.” sokka’s eyes were sympathetic as walked over to her, silently questioning if she was okay with his presence. she nodded and scooted over to make room, and sokka slid down against the tree next to her.

they sat in comfortable silence for a while, feeling solace in the other simply being there. y/n’s eyes stayed glued to the sky, y/e/c irises reflecting the light of the stars. now that her sobbing was done, she just felt tired. traveling with the avatar was physically demanding with all the fighting and running they did, but this was mental.

she was tired of feeling worthless. tired of feeling guilty, of feeling angry, hurt, heartbroken, regretful, helpless, weak.

tui and la, she was so damn tired.

at night, when the stars light up my room i sit by myself talking to the moon trying to get to you

y/n tore her eyes away from the sky and looked at sokka. he felt the slight movement and made eye contact as well. y/n couldn’t help but think how similar his eyes were to yue’s.

“do you talk to her too?” the question came suddenly from y/n before she even knew it, and her voice was just as soft as before. “to the moon, i mean.”

sokka’s gaze turned wistful as he watched the moon and nodded. “all the time. even if i’m just talking to myself in my head, it feels like i’m talking to her as long as the moon is out. sometimes it helps. it makes me feel like she’s still here, or like she’s watching over me. other times..”

“it makes you feel worse,” y/n finished. he nodded again and she sighed heavily. “sometimes i hate it. just looking at the moon makes me want to scream or cry or yell until i can’t anymore, because i hate it for taking her away from me. and i know she had to do it, but the irrational part of me is angry at her for leaving. and then i feel guilty for caring about myself more than her when she’s the one that’s gone, and i just—”

her voice caught in her throat and the tears started to fall once more. it felt like she couldn’t even think about yue without crying and it made her feel even more weak than before.

in hopes you’re on the other side talking to me too

it hurt sokka’s heart to see her like this. yue’s death had affected both of them, spirits, it had left a hole in his heart that he was still trying to mend, but as time went on he had gotten better. but y/n had known yue for years, they had such a close bond that when sokka wanted to know advice on how to get yue to like him he came to her. and now her closest friend was gone and she had left her home and her family behind to help them on their journey.. he couldn’t imagine how she felt. but he wasn’t going to let her go through this alone.

sokka wrapped his arm around her and though she flinched at first, y/n immediately relaxed when she realized what he was doing. he was trying to comfort her by just being there, and she appreciated it immensely. y/n leaned her head against his shoulder and the two of them sat there in silence once again, watching the sky.

or am i a fool who sits alone talking to the moon

“you don’t have to feel guilty,” sokka murmured. “she doesn’t blame you for what happened and she doesn’t blame you for how you feel. i know that she’s watching over us right now.”

“you think?” he nodded and the smallest smile graced her lips. “she doesn’t blame you either. every time you hung out together she would come running back to me telling me how much fun she had and how she already felt so close to you, and how much you brightened up her days. she truly loved you, sokka.”

sokka laughed humorlessly and shook his head. “i loved her too. i didn’t think it was possible to fall for someone so quickly, but she proved me wrong.”

“she was good at that. proving people wrong.”

do you ever hear me calling?

more silence passed.

y/n opened her mouth and closed it again, trying to find the words.

“yue?” she started off timid, but her words gained more confidence as she went on. “i.. i don’t know if you can hear us. but if you can, i just want to let you know that i- that we miss you. not a day goes by where i don’t think of you, and i hope that you are watching down on us. because we love you. and we always will.”

“thank you for everything you’ve done.” sokka spoke up now. “i hope you’re at peace, yue, wherever you are.”

cause every night i’m talking to the moon still trying to get to you

y/n swore that the moon glowed a little brighter in the night sky when they finished.

she didn’t know how time passed so quickly, but her and sokka ended up falling asleep out there, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder.

and for the first time since the siege of the north, y/n slept without nightmares.

#atla fic #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #princess yue #song fic #blurb #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka #sokka fic #yue #writing

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jeanslongschlong · 3 years

Text

a-z fluff alphabet for connie springer

requested by @squidonmywall !! i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: some swearing

word count: 1871

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your sense of humor! Connie is a really funny guy, so it means a lot to him that you can match his energy at all times. He doesn’t believe in soulmates, but he’s starting to think that maybe, just maybe…

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Your cheeks! Connie LOVES to pinch them, caress them, kiss them, and so on. He makes it his life mission to make you blush, as seeing the red tint on your cheeks makes pride swell up in him over the fact that he made you have that reaction. He also loves when- jk, we’re keeping this PG here. I’ll expand more on this when I do his NSFW alphabet.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Under lots of blankets and on top of lots of pillows. But he will cuddle with you anywhere and everywhere; Connie is not shy about PDA with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

I get extremely romantic vibes from Connie, so probably some sort of mountain getaway, during which you spend time in a sauna, go skiing, and have a candlelit dinner with the breathtaking view of the snow-tipped mountains in the background. I can assure you he will do everything in his power to make you swoon, and (more likely than not) CRINGE at some of his cheesy attempts at flirting. He may be a romantic, but I never said anything about being smooth. That is a whole other story.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Connie is pretty open about his emotions with everyone, but even more so with you. You just make him feel so comfortable, he knows that no matter what he’s feeling you won’t judge him; you’ll try your hardest to sympathize and help him work through it. That’s another thing he loves about you, your empathy.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

CONNIE WANTS LIKE FIVE KIDS AND YOU CANNOT CHANGE MY MIND. In any case, he only wants them if you want them of course. He isn’t going to force you into something you don’t want. However, I would say that it could be a deal breaker for him…but it just depends. If you do want to have kids as well, I’d say he wants to start having them around 24/25.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

HE LOVES GIVING GIFTS. I don’t think he has a lot of money so they probably aren’t expensive ones, but expect a bunch of small things randomly. He doesn’t need a holiday to buy you a gift, he just does it whenever he feels like it (which is almost always LMFAO he’s such a sweetie I am in love).

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

All the time. Everywhere. Everyday. He holds onto your hand like it’s his fucking LIFELINE. (please I simp for this man so much he is so precious help)

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Simply put, he would cry. Similar to Eren, he would most likely shut down, overwhelmed by the panic and regret that washes over him when someone informs him of your injury. He would be so patient and loving during your recovery period, though. If you were staying in a hospital room he would give you his pudding cups during dinnertime.

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Obviously Connie likes to joke, he’s one of the funniest characters in AOT. However, pranks? Nah. Not alone, at least. Teamed up with Sasha is a whole other story. But I don’t think they’d be anything serious. If he did prank you, it would be like…hiding a whoopie cushion on the couch where you normally sit, not a breakup prank or a cheating prank. He thinks those are too cruel and he would feel wayyyy too bad about it.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Lowkey…I feel like he gives wet and sloppy kisses. But the type that make you feel warm inside. Kissing him brightens your whole day, they’re so infused with love that you could faint.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Words, gifts, kisses, random hugs, cuddles, you name it. He makes it VERY KNOWN in every way possible that he loves you. He is not embarrassed about it at all, and he makes sure you don’t forget it.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Your first date. He stuttered so bad and yet you didn’t make fun of him. That’s when he knew that he had it BAD for you. He went home and literally couldn’t sleep he was so overwhelmed with affection for you.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

He’s afraid that his forwardness will eventually scare you away. He’s so open about everything, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you are, so he’s afraid that one day he will overstep his boundaries and drive you away permanently.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

French kissing is a no-no. Even though his kisses are wet and sloppy, I really think that the thought of your tongues in each other’s mouths gross him out. I think the same goes for Levi, too, if I’m being honest.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Angel, my love, my dearest. THIS BOY IS SO CHEESY BUT IT MELTS YOU

“You’re so pretty, angel. How the hell did I manage to get a girlfriend as heavenly as you?”

(And then you probably made fun of him and you two double over in the type of laughter that makes your stomach cramp. Oh, to be loved by Connie.)

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

A lot, quality time is his love language, second to gift giving. If he had it his way, the only time he would be away from you is when he was at work, at school, or going to the bathroom. Otherwise, he wants to be all up in your business. But, he respects your space so he tries to refrain from asking you to hang out every day. Key word: tries.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

“Two” by Sleeping At Last. No explanation needed.

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He tells you everything, even things you think ‘god, why did he tell me that?’ afterwards. SO, he tells you everything. He keeps nothing from you, which makes surprising you SUPER hard for him LMAO. He just wants to tell you as soon as he possibly can.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Not very long. 3 months at most. This boy can’t wait LOL he has 0 patience. He knew he wanted to make you his even before you had your first date, but he waited to give you time to think about what you wanted. (Although how could you not want him??? FR)

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Super supportive. He will be whatever you need him to be. If you need to scream at him to let out all of your frustration? He’ll let you. If you need him to hold a pillow for you to punch while you’re angry? Consider him your new punching bag. If you need him to just hold you and stroke your hair while you cry? He’ll do it. Anything for you.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He’s honestly just so happy that you love him. He loves to show you off; he tells anyone who will listen how amazing you are, how beautiful you are, how he’s convinced that if soulmates did exist, you’d be his.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

Like Eren, Connie would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat. He gets a little scared when he thinks about you fighting, but he knows that you’d be fine, so he never really voices that fear.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Pretty damn well. He’s not dumb, he can tell when you’re actually mad and when you’re just crabby because you haven’t eaten. He’s memorized all of the indicators that point towards how you’re feeling, and he’s always prepared to deal with it.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

SOOOOO ROMANTICALLY PLS IM GONNA SOB THINKING ABOUT IT.

This is the only secret that I feel he would successfully keep from you; he wants to make it as special as possible (which is quite the opposite of Eren LOL). He would take you on a walk near sunset, and would time it so perfectly that you would end up at the place you first met right when the sun starts to set.

The sky is filled with picturesque shades of pinks, yellows, reds, and oranges, and you stop for a moment to gape in astonishment at its beauty. He admires you as you stare at the sky, your hand held to your forehead to shield your eyes from the brunt of the sun’s mighty rays, your eyes filled with such bewilderment that it warms him from the inside out. He takes this moment to kneel down onto one knee, reaching back to fish out the black ring box he had put in his pockets a few hours before.

“Y/N…” he says softly, trying to get your attention. You turn around, expecting him to make fun of you for being so infatuated with the colors of the sky, but instead let out a strangled gasp.

“Holy shit, are you-“

“Yes,” he smiles up at you and reaches out with his left hand to grasp your right. He gives your hand a loving squeeze, sucks in a breath, then continues, “I knew from the moment we met here all of those years ago that I was going to marry you. You know how I knew?” You shake your head no. “The moment our eyes met, I was filled with such a sense of completion that there was no other way to explain it. I’ve told you many times that I don’t believe in soulmates, that I think it’s just a shanty created by the romance genre to create unrealistic expectations when it comes to love. But…I’m now thoroughly convinced that you are mine.”

“Connie, I-“

“Marry me.”

“Yes.”

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Taking a nap with you under a thick blanket. He loves to be held by you, so preferably with him on top of you, your arms wrapped tightly around him and him using your stomach as a pillow. Prime sleeping position for Connie Springer.

#aot headcanons #aot #attack on titan x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer #connie springer fluff alphabet #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan

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slasherhaven · 4 years

Note

Hi! (Forgive me im pretty new to sending requests) I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do a one shot/ head cannon for the Sinclair boys who finds reader was abandoned/ and or used to buy time from their own friends? (How would the Sinclairs react? Would they help reader? Take care of them?) (If doing all three brothers is too much, could you do Vincent Sinclair? 👉👈 thank you❤️)

You’re totally fine! Of course, I like this being a plot of how you meet the brothers!

Bo Sinclair:

When Bo sees what happened he just approaches you, not really caring about how you ended up in this positions.

But when he takes the sight of you in some more, he hesitates.

Angry, sad, and betrayed. Looking up at him, alone and terrified. Something within him just can’t bring himself to be merciless.

He knows that he’s far from good but he isn’t a complete monster. For some reason unknown to him, a small soft spot had developed for you.

Bo has a strong distaste for people in general, especially those outside of Ambrose. Maybe that’s why he didn’t feel the need to kill you, because you had been wronged by them as well.

“It seems those friends of yours don’t care all that much about you” it’s harsh, he knows it is but it also appears to be the truth. “They sacrificed your life to save their own but it was pointless, me and my brothers will get to them. Now...let’s get that injury seen too”

He doesn’t wait for a response before hauling you off of the ground, forcing the makeshift weapon out of your hand.

Of course you fight him, assuming he’s going to kill you, but he eventually gets you to listen by....well, threatening you. It’s a tricky situation that neither of you have been in before. It’s a learning curve!

He takes you back to the house, letting Vincent deal with your remaining friends.

As he sits you down and grabs what he needs to tend to your injury, he talks about how your friends are selfish and would risk your left for theirs. He tells you that they aren’t worth trying to help at this point and you should look out for yourself like they did.

He’s just trying to give you some advice here.

After tending to your injury and seeing that you have calmed down at least a little bit, Bo gives you your two options.

You can stay here in Ambrose with him and his brothers willingly or you can try to find your friends, who Vincent has probably taken care of by now. You can still join them though, if that’s what you really want...

Well...it looks like you’ll be staying in Ambrose for a while.

Bo is kind enough to not make you deal with anything to do with the death of your friends.

However, if you want to get your revenge on your friends? Bo will definitely allow it, just standing back and watching you do what you have to do. Maybe you were going to fit in here just fine.

Once you’re staying with them, you won’t be getting a free ride.

You’ll have to partake in your fair share of chores. Until you’re completely comfortable with it and he trusts you, he won’t let you get involved with the morbid side of running the town.

You just never expected to start to fall for the charming southerner that spared your life.

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent’s heart aches for you as soon as he witnesses your so called friends abandon you, even though they would have been fine if they didn’t. He knew that he does some monstrous things but he wouldn’t abandon somebody he cared about like that.

Honestly, they were the evil ones here!

Vincent takes a gentler approach to Bo. He approaches you slowly as you struggle with the locked door.

Eventually you give up, knowing it’s not going to open, turning back to the large masked man with tears staining your cheeks and a knife you found in your shaky hands.

He continues to approach, hand held out in front of him to show that he didn’t have a weapon and that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

You flinch when he reaches for you but any sudden movement you make makes him flinch as well, maybe that’s what gets you to relax a little. He seems as scared of you as you are of him.

He wraps one hand around your wrist as he takes the knife from your grasp, dropping it to the floor with a clang.

When he sees that you’re hurt, his heart softens for you some more.

He takes you back to his workroom, which thankfully has no bodies in it at the moment (since Bo was chasing your friends around somewhere else in the town). That would have only freaked you out more.

He’ll sit you down and you watch him move around the room nervously, wondering what he planned on doing with you.

But then he was...patching up your injury?

He doesn’t speak but he doesn’t seem to want to hurt you, his touch was careful and gentle, like he was trying not to scare you or hurt you.

When you started to cry again, still feeling betrayed by the people you called your friends, Vincent would place his hand on your shoulder. Wanting to comfort you but not make you too uncomfortable by getting too close.

A quiet but confused “thank you” from you makes Vincent smile a little under the mask.

It’s in that moment that he decides he’s not going to let Bo kill you. But he knows that he won’t let you go, you could go to the authorities and it would all be over for them, so...you would have to stay here.

Don’t worry, he’ll protect you from any harm. He won’t let Bo do anything to you.

Lester Sinclair:

You had caught Lester’s eye from the very beginning when he had offered to give you and your friends a ride to the nearest town, Ambrose. You had been kind and friendly with him.

While your friends looked down on him or seemed disgusted by him, you were just grateful that a stranger was helping you all. He felt bad about lying to you.

You had laughed at his jokes and talked to him easily as he drove to Ambrose. He already liked you and thought letting you go into his brothers’ trap would be a shame.

So when he found you after being betrayed by your friends and left for dead, the first thing on his mind was to actually help you.

Lester is the most chaotic out of the three brothers. He’s gentler than Bo but not as careful as Vincent.

He’ll hurry over to you, which probably scares you a little since you think his goal is to kill you or hurt you.

But he’ll be talking, cluelessly shushing you and promising you that he isn’t going to hurt you.

He can be a little full on but he’s not all that aggressive or intimidating so you start to believe him and relax around him.

When he sees that you’re hurt, his heart just aches. He’s not as good as tending to injuries has his brothers but he can do a decent makeshift job. He accidentally cuts himself on things all the time so he knows how to tend to that.

Lester will probably take you back to his house outside of the town. It’s messy but it’s safe for you, for now.

He’ll patch you up to the best of his ability as he mumbles about how awful your friends are, appearing to be genuinely angered by the way they treated you.

Lester knows that Bo will still be searching for you, probably worrying that you escaped. So it was only a matter of time before he had to take you back but he assures you that you don’t need to worry, he’s got your back.

Kinda talks to Bo like he’s trying to get a pet. I promise they’ll be my responsibility! I’ll look after them!

Eventually Bo agrees to it, warning you both that he will kill you if you cause trouble.

But you won’t be staying in the town, you’ll be staying at Lester’s house with him so you don’t need to worry about Bo breathing down your neck all the time.

Lester does whatever he can to make you feel comfortable. Awkwardly apologising for what happened with your friends but promising that he’ll look out for you.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #house of wax #slashers x reader #Slashers #slasher #my writing

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

silent confessions

request from nonnie! “Hey erica! I have a request for you, it's a bit challenging i think but I'm sure you'll do perfectly. Imagine like, the fake dating trope with fred, BUT at the end it's a george x reader? Like, imagine george feeling uncomfortable and jealous seeing the reader and fred acting like a couple even though he knows its not real and stuff anyway im obsessed with your writing love you bye”

pairing: fred x reader, george x reader

word count: 3.8k

A/N: wait, i loved this request. so different from the normal fake dating tropes! i hope this lived up to expectations.. idk why i just feel like my writing sort of sucks in this?? wah, idk, sad, feedback pls? also we’ve got some POV changes in this but they’re pointed out ayyyee, thanks for enduring the fluffiest fluff ever bc that’s all i have to give you hooligans

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan

You

You could practically hear the smirk that grew on his face — he wasn’t exactly being subtle. He took his place next to you in the Great Hall, ignored the fact that you were removing spellbooks and quills from your bag to begin your work, and didn’t bother to heed Snape’s warning glance.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Fred’s voice was a little too sweet for your liking; sweet as sugar, in fact. You knew this voice. It’s the voice he always put on whenever he needed a favor — whenever he wanted something from you. You didn’t look up from the table.

“Whatever it is, I think I’m going to pass.”

He scoffed and closed your spellbook. You grunted in annoyance; you were positive he wasn’t going down without a fight, but you supposed you still needed to try, even though you knew in your heart that this was a fight you wouldn’t win. You turned toward him and he batted his eyelashes at you.

“Dear, dear Y/N — you won’t pass when I tell you what’s in it for you.”

“What type of chaotic mischief that you have planned could possibly be beneficial to me?”

He digested this; you were right, and he knew it. He just shrugged, though, took in your rejection and tried to use it to his advantage.

He nodded across to the other end of the Gryffindor table; there sat Angelina Johnson — fellow Gryffindor, member of the DA, Quidditch captain and, to your most recent knowledge, Fred Weasley’s crush. Again. Boy was crazy about her.

“Thought we already tried this, Freddie?” you sighed, stealing your spellbook back from his very tight grasp and opening it to your desired page. He huffed a bit, and you were quite sure he was remembering the disaster that was the Yule Ball, just a year ago.

You noticed a small grin lift his cheeks; he looked rather smug now, which made you worried. What was it, exactly, that he had planned? “I know last year didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped.” Right. Fred had gotten a little too sloppy on his date with Angelina. She’d been a bit turned off. The night ended and she never pursued anything else; he was so embarrassed, neither did he. Fred Weasley? Embarrassed? The word wasn’t even in his day to day vernacular. But boy, was he shook.

“But it was a long time ago — besides, she’s been sending me all types of signals.”

“I don’t think her eye rolls mean she fancies you, Fred.”

He jabbed you playfully in the ribs. “Don’t be rude, Y/N. I know she fancies me. I just know it. You don’t go on just one date with Fred Weasley.”

You scoffed at his air of egotistical confidence; you shut your eyes at the prospect of him maybe going to someone else for help. Much to your dismay, it didn’t happen. He just stayed where he was, resting his chin on his hand, peering at you longingly as if his staring alone would convince you to say yes to whatever he had up his sleeve. After a few minutes, you said, “If I agree to help you, you prat, will you leave me alone?”

“Can’t say leaving you alone would exactly work with what I’ve got planned,” he replied, relaxing now, tapping his foot underneath the table and not taking his eyes off of Angelina. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Relax, Y/N, I’m not going to pin you against the wall and snog you, if that’s what you’re so worried about,” he laughed, running a hand through his hair. You felt as though your throat was closing up at the mere thought of it. “Just some hand holding, things of the like. Need to make her jealous. Need to make her realize what she’s missing.”

You groaned in frustration. “Can I take back what I said?”

“Nope,” he answered brightly. “You can’t. Thanks for coming along for the ride. Don’t get in too deep, though. No falling in love with me, alright?”

You felt a pang in your chest; you weren’t in love with him and you never would be. He was your best friend and nothing would change that. You knew it and so did he. You felt worried, though. What would others think? What if Angelina did get jealous — but in a bad way? Or worse — what would George say?

His was the only opinion that mattered to you, truthfully.

So that’s how you came to be Fred Weasley’s “girlfriend”, and when you both finally told George what Fred had strategically planned, you were relieved and also a bit upset at how nonchalant he seemed; a small grin tugged at the edges of his lips which sent you into a tizzy. You tried your very hardest to hide your disappointment; you didn’t want to let on how absolutely mad you were for him. So, you supposed, when you thought about this ridiculous stunt one night in your four poster, fake dating Fred would certainly squash any and all suspicions George had (if he did) about you fancying him.

“How’s my favorite couple?” he’d asked teasingly one day in the middle of the common room, sinking into the couch on the other side of you. Angelina then popped in through the portrait hole, and Fred placed his hand on your knee, stroking it absentmindedly. You felt a dull ache in your heart when you saw George’s eyes dart toward Fred’s hand.

Angelina had done the exact same thing; you were able to see a very faint shade of pink flush her cheeks before she stormed upstairs to her dormitory without a word to any of you. Fred immediately dropped his hand and you felt your muscles relax, but not without a quick squeeze to your knee and a cheeky grin. “Brilliant, Y/N,” he said, earning himself a dull grunt from you. Not that you’d done much, or anything, for that matter. But still, your heart felt sore at the thought: you wanted, more than anything, for George to reach over and gently graze your knee, pull you into him, kiss your temple as Fred had been doing the last few weeks.

The dull ache in your heart just seemed to grow stronger.

George

“Help me!”

You frowned. “I’m already in the middle of the other favor your lovely brother asked me to do,” you told him with a slight twinge of annoyance to your voice; however, it wasn’t difficult for him to detect a bit of cheekiness, too — especially when he saw the slight grin that spread itself across your lips.

“I just need some help with this stupid Potions essay.”

George noticed you soften at his request; he supposed it wasn’t as time-consuming as pretending to be someone’s girlfriend, and was rather elated when you agreed. You pulled out your desired books from the shelves in front of you and pointed at an empty table in one of the rows. “Let’s get started then, Georgie.”

But the truth was, he didn’t really need help. He was actually doing surprisingly well in Potions, for the first time since he began at Hogwarts. He didn’t want to let it get to his head, though. He figured there wasn’t anything wrong with getting some extra assistance.

It wasn’t assistance that he yearned for, though — it was you. More importantly, time spent with you. Any time — which he found himself getting hardly any now that you were “dating” his brother. He was first impressed at the idea that you’d decided to help Fred with his ridiculous request, and spent most of the time hanging around you teasing you and taunting you mercilessly for it, earning himself adorable laughs and flustered looks in return. But now, as he watched Fred press featherlight kisses to your temple and snake his arm around your waist at every given moment, all he felt was resentment. Jealousy. Hurt.

He felt himself feeling guilty; he shouldn’t be allowed to feel any of those things, because Fred didn’t know. Nobody knew. Nobody knew how he felt about you. Also, this whole stupid thing was just a ploy, anyway. So he suppressed those feelings everyday until he ended up alone in his dorm room, where he’d kick his trunk and scream into a muffled pillow while he let his brain unwind and digest the day's events.

“Ah — work here is finished,” he said after a few hours in the library. Much needed hours, in fact. He watched as you slowly placed your spellbooks back into your bag. “Thanks for your help.”

And in between those bouts of jealousy and resentment came moments of clarity, moments of affection, overwhelming feelings of admiration toward you. “For you?” you started, a gentle smile on your lips as you placed a hand to his knee, “Anything.”

You

You woke up before the sun and groaned; it was Saturday. Four Saturdays, in fact, since Fred had asked you to embark on this silly endeavor with him. Three Saturdays since you’d begun wondering when this would finally be over. Two Saturdays since Fred had told you sooner rather than later. One Saturday since George had noticeably become off balance.

You felt a pull at your heart when you popped through the portrait hole with Fred and Ginny later that evening after a much needed trip into Hogsmeade; you chewed nervously on the sugar quill you’d purchased as you placed yourself next to the roaring fire, Fred taking a seat next to you on the couch when Ginny made her way to the girls dormitory.

You didn’t know where George was; he hadn’t come to Hogsmeade. Or maybe he did, and he’d just very successfully avoided you both as you ended up, hand-in-hand, wherever Angelina was. With the exception of a few measly youngins on the other end of the common room, you and Fred were alone.

“Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“I really need to talk with you.”

He looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet he had clutched in his hands. He furrowed his brow and placed the paper on the table in front of him, criss-crossing his legs and peering at you longingly. Then he turned cheeky and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Must be important,”

You cleared your throat and felt your heart thundering against your ribcage.

You opened your mouth to speak and closed it just the same. You didn’t really know how to ask what you wanted to — to tell him what you wanted to. So instead, you opted for, “How much longer d’you think this is going to last?”

“I dunno — a few days, or so. Why?” He raised his eyebrows. “Sick of me already?”

“Ha-ha,” you replied sarcastically, jabbing him in the chest. “I just — I’m a bit worried —” you broke off and let your mind wander for a moment. You thought about truthfully telling Fred how you felt. Guilty. Upset. Lonely. In love with someone who didn’t seem to notice. Worried he’d find someone else. “I just hope Angelina isn’t getting the wrong idea.”

Fred digested this. “How d’you mean?”

“Well, you want her to run to you in a fit of jealous fury, right?” he nodded curtly, taking this in. “I just hope she doesn’t see us together and instead, turns the other cheek. Looks the other way. Finds somebody else. You know?” But it wasn’t Angelina you were worried about.

Fred thought about this for a moment. You watched as his cheeky expression turned rather stoic, and then a bit grim. “I never thought of it that way.”

Suddenly, you felt extremely worried. You started, “No, no, you know what? I’m being silly — she wouldn’t, because she’s absolutely mad for you, too. Just forget I said anything, okay? I reckon she’ll be round to snatch you right out of my hands this week.” You laughed, but it felt foreign in your mouth. Fred noticed.

“Y/N,” his voice suddenly sounded a lot less like his own — more concerned. “What’s going on?”

Just then, George popped through the portrait hole with Ron, Harry, and Neville. You met his gaze and let it linger for a few long moments. He then smiled brightly, as if he hadn’t been acting strange this entire past week. With a quick wave to you both, ignoring Fred’s motion to come and sit down, he made his way straight up to the boys dormitory. Fred shot you a glance, and you answered his previous question.

“Nothing, Fred,” you sighed, silencing him before he could ask you if you knew what was up with his twin. You hated how painfully true your next words were. “There’s absolutely nothing going on.”

George

George was outside in the courtyard with Ron, Harry, and Ginny. He’d been doing his best to avoid you and Fred at all costs, which was pretty hard when you were his best friend and Fred was his twin. But he tried.

He found himself growing incredibly uncomfortable around you both; the sheer sight of Fred slinging an arm around your waist, intertwining his fingers with yours, calling you his “love” — it sent George spiraling. He didn’t want Fred doing those things. In fact, he didn’t want anyone doing those things. Only him. He wanted you to be his love.

“Georgie?”

You took him by surprise in the courtyard; the others were immersed in a conversation about bets, or something. He, though, was peering up at you, doing his very best to not look as bloody nervous as he felt.

“Can we talk?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer; you pulled him to his feet and immediately brought him back into the castle. You found an empty classroom and sat yourself down on a desk across from him. He had to resist the urge to spill his guts, tell you everything, grab your face in his hands and confess his unwavering love for you.

So instead, he opted for a generic, “What’s up?”

“I’m not sure..” you started timidly. He could see the shyness in your eyes and he didn’t like it one bit. You? Shy around him? You’d never been. He hated that this is where it had gotten too. “Are you mad at me?”

He was very much taken aback at your forward question; way to cushion the blow. He swallowed a few times, trying very desperately to dislodge the lump that appeared in his throat and hoped to Merlin that he could fool you. “Mad? Of course not. Why would I be?”

You crossed your arms, now looking a bit angered. George felt his insides constrict. “We haven’t spoken in days.”

“I’ve just — been busy,” George lied. His jaw tightened. “Assignments, and things. Detention. You know,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood, “the usual.”

You smiled back, though it was a broken sort of smile. Lonely. It took everything in him not to lean over and kiss it right off of your mouth. “Are you sure? You’d tell me if anything was wrong, right?” He swore he heard more than yearning in your voice; he scolded himself silently for being dishonest. Was your voice breaking? “You’re my best friend.”

Inside his pockets, he clenched his fists. He was going to go for it. Who cared about Angelina? Fred could get her without this ridiculous bloody stunt of his. And George needed to tell you before you fell for his twin, for real, and the both of you ended up heartbroken. He stepped forward, but before he could do or say anything, you slung your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tight. He felt revitalized at your embrace, like he was reentering his body after having been off balance for months. His fingertips found your hips and he focused solely on the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your body pressed tightly against him. When you both parted, he took your hands in his. He wet his lips and took a steady deep breath. “Honestly?”

“Darling!”

Fred’s voice, much to George’s dismay, came from the classroom door. Damnit. How had he found you both? The door was closed! Frustration, anger, and gloom raced through George’s body; he was about two bloody seconds away from decking his brother for interrupting. But he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. Fred didn’t know. George sighed through gritted teeth, let your hands fall out of his, and backed away slowly.

“”C’mon, love, we’ve got dinner,” Fred called, sounding much happier than George would’ve liked. To him, Fred said, “you coming, mate?”

“Be there in a minute, Freddie.”

Fred grinned brightly and left you both standing in the middle of the classroom, the tension still hanging in the air. You turned back from the door, a solemn sort of look on your face, and asked him, “What were you going to say?”

“Oh,” George’s voice got caught in his throat, “just — been a little stressed. Knackered from class more often than not. Reckon I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You frowned. He knew that you were aware not to press on; that was all the information he was going to give. You took a deep breath. “As long as we’re okay?”

“Of course we are.”

“Okay,” you said. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m famished. Let’s go eat.”

You

“Did I do something wrong?”

Fred was standing across from you in the common room, arms crossed, shoulders back, and a smirk growing on his face. He laughed at your nervousness. He’d just told you that things were over between you both. You’d asked, of course, just to be courteous. But you were actually pretty bloody excited. “Of course not, Y/N. You’ve done quite the opposite, actually.”

“Meaning?”

Fred walked over to you and placed his hands on both of your shoulders. He wet his lips before a huge, cheeky grin swept itself across his face. He squeezed you. “Angelina cornered me this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows. You were suddenly feeling much more invigorated. You grabbed his face out of pure excitement and shook him. “And? Keep bloody on, would you?!”

He threw his head back and laughed haughtily now. “Haven’t seen you this excited since before we began this,”

“Sorry,” you calmed down and frowned a bit. “Reckon I haven’t been the greatest “girlfriend”...”

A soft smile found its way across Fred’s cheeks. You furrowed your brows in confusion, hoping that he was going to tell you that he and Angelina were finally, wonderfully, officially together, which meant that you and Fred didn’t need to be. But he caught you completely off guard and said, “Don’t blame yourself too much. I reckon it’d be difficult to pretend to date me, especially when you’re in love with someone else.”

You were certain that your heart had jumped directly into your throat; your entire body went rigid at his words. He knew? Who else knew? Did George? Did everyone? “I don’t.. know what you’re on about, Freddie.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” he teased, pulling at your hair and shaking his head. “C’mon. You think I didn’t notice? Each time I’d drop your hand, or unwind my arm from your waist, I saw you steal glances at him.” Fred leaned in to get closer to you and you noticed a light shade of pink wash over his cheeks. Had you been silently confessing your love for George this entire time? “He was stealing them right back, you know.”

You swallowed thickly. Did Fred know more than he was letting on? Where was George? “He was?”

“He’s in the Great Hall.” It was evident to you that Angelina was watching from the other end of the common room, and she was smiling brightly. No doubt, Fred had told her everything. You turned back toward Fred and grinned nervously. He took your hands in his and squeezed them. He simply said, “Go get him already, would you?”

And as quickly as your feet could carry you, you ran swiftly down the staircases, through the corridors, into the Great Hall and all the way to the front, where George was sitting, pouring over a bit of parchment, looking positively ghastly. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like fire; your cheeks felt hot and flushed and each and every muscle in your body ached from running so bloody fast. “Ah,” he said brightly at the sight of you. “Come here to help me, have you? This assignment is a right load —”

You cut him off, ignored this completely and pulled him to his feet; he peered down at you with a confused expression and opened his mouth to speak, but you cupped his face in your hands, pulled him forward, and kissed him. The muffled moan that escaped his lips gave you your answer — he was certainly shocked. However, it didn’t take him long to melt into it; he was kissing you as though he’d never kissed anyone in his life, like the pure feeling of your lips moulding together with his was the very oxygen pumping through his lungs at that very moment. His hands were tangled in your robes, but he eventually found himself stroking your spine delicately with his fingers, earning himself slight whines from you as he laughed cheekily against your lips. From behind you somewhere, someone said, “Hey Y/N, you do know that’s the wrong twin you’re snogging, right?”

“Oi, shove off, Finnegan!” you called, parting from George only for a moment. “I know which twin it is!”

You turned back toward George and the two of you let out a bit of relieved laughter, limbs still entangled together. “I’ve got a confession to make,” he began, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from pouncing on you, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Yeah?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Pretty difficult to do anything about it when you’ve been dating my brother the last month or so,”

“You’re right,” you told him, pulling a bit on his tie, “but I’m pretty sure he broke down and told Angelina everything.”

George raised his eyebrows at you in surprise. You continued, “Pretty sure he got sick of me being a mopey “girlfriend” because all I wanted to do was be with you instead.”

His sweet smile turned rather sensual. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so,” you told him straightforwardly, running your hands through his very messy red hair.

Somewhere in the distance, over the sea of people watching you both, Seamus Finnegan shouted, “Wait, has it always been George?”

George actually snorted a bit at this; then he bit down on his lip again, wiggled his eyebrows at you, and asked, “Well — has it?”

You didn’t break your gaze, though; instead, you let your eyes linger on George’s for much longer than you normally would. You were pretty sure that you could hear the steady thumping of his heart against his ribcage, and his eyes washing over you like a cool tide completely sent you into overdrive. Suddenly, you were feeling much more confident than normal. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at you. “Yeah,” you said to George, pressing your lips to his once more, “it’s always been you.”

reblogs, comments, feedback, and all of the above are always appreciated!

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #my writing

724 notes · View notes

yozzers · 3 years

Text

vexos hcs and random notes

ill update as i go, because yes i do update my masterlists every once in awhile, i should probably add them to my pinned...

General

I sincerely hope they have a small living arrangement so I can inflict them with the pain of having to share almost everything with each other

I just want Shadow and Lync to share a bunk

Like to think that alongside Volt, Mylene and Lync were also recruited by Hydron

None of them officially joined until they were a bit older but probably trained to eventually join the Vexos; in the mean time they probably worked for Hydron or something like that

Volt recruited at 11; Lync a year later and Mylene following not long after (respectively 13, 8, 12 when they’re all gathered)

My reasoning to why Volt is patient with Lync’s antics and Mylene less so but doesn’t lash out as badly as you think she would around annoying little kids; grew up tgt moment

Spectra probably forced his way into the Vexos like “hiiii i see you dont have any Vexos members <3″ bcs obv he wasn’t using royal scientist dad privelages (i think, bcs Clay seems horrified abt Spectra being a Vexos and well, being Spectra)

Shadow had an advantage of being a nobleman (in terms of him being accepted into the Vexos’ ranks)

the Vexos and their set of rules magent-ed on the fridge door or something and every time they go over a page they have to staple/tape a new page on

Joined in this order, Volt, Spectra, Shadow, Mylene, Lync, Gus

Vexos being a “chance of death low but the chance is still there” type of job... they feel like idols girl help they are bakugan idol group who work for the government

sorry the way the vestal kids talk about them... going to treat the Vexos like a kpop group now

Spectra Phantom / Keith Fermin

[canon] son of a (royal?) scientist. definitely had it good and comfy

think it’d be REALLY funny if he already knew Shadow before he became Spectra, Shadow just doesn’t recognize him bcs of his stupid get up

throws childhood friends Shadow Spectra at you, just two weirdos

Keith specifically keeps Shadow from ever meeting his sister which is why neither of them really recognize each other

Pre-Spectra; probably would’ve been really into bakugan biology and what not. Feels like the kind of person to talk w/ his dad about “do you think we could change their appearance if we messed w/ their mechanical ball form or would it not carry over to their released forms”

this mf looks like a biology major i feel it in my guts

mom isn’t dead she just divorced Clay bcs he didn’t know how to balance family and work, good for her

probably lives in another city now, and it’s a bit more of a hassle to meet with her kids so they don’t see her as much but she is present in their lives (keep in contact in other ways)

probably went a bit silent when Keith went missing

didn’t bleach his eyebrows bcs he didn’t want to harm the skin around there and he never thought he’d take the mask off around others, or about how stupid he’d look without the mask

please please please please draw him with his pink hair roots in his MS fit he should've grown out some of his bleached hair by then

daddy issues is truly the root of evil

Gus Grav

Just Some Gut background; middle class just living life

[canon?] was going on a route to being an “idol brawler”, because that’s kind of what their brawls felt like, since it was all purely for show with some competition. it felt less like a sport and more spectacle.

Gus wanting to be an idol brawler is actually such a funny string of words put together I’m making that a thing, if he didn’t join the Vexos he would’ve been an idol brawler

I like the Gus needs glasses hc (shoutout to @marmeladebois ‘s post on that)

The hc of him being half human and Runo’s half brother is so good

Cooks well but refuses to help cook fr the Vexos (unless Spectra specifically asks) --> that job is usually left to Volt

not related but reminds me heavily of yugioh vrain’s Spectre (or other way around... Gus was the blueprint)

Shadow Prove

[handbook canon] a vestal nobleman

has an older brother (oc; Lux- casual Haos brawler)

inferiority complex or whatever, the only thing he bested his brother in was Bakugan

the Prove family being typical prim proper noble family and forcing Shadow to be repressed is something, but the Proves having the same kind of wavelength as Shadow but in different variations is funnier. They’re just Like That.

Probably not a military family, does work closely with the government still; um im thinking somewhere under the Fermins but not by much

Considered running away from home several times

Unwillingly has knowledge on Vestal classic literature/ music

hard clutching a wall whenever he wants to join in on discussions about it bcs he knows this stuff but no way is he going to make himself look like a nerd + hes not actually that interested

*debates you for fun and bcs i hate u <3*

You know how he doesn’t take his job as a Vexos member super seriously, I wonder:

did his parents force him to be a Vexos since he wasn’t interested in the political side of his family and probably against taking up anything related to it, so they had him do something that’d still be beneficial to the family?

joined to pursue a freedom he didn’t have as a nobleman and is now just taking it really easy?

has clowns > jesters debate with volt; obv he’s team clown, volt is team jester

incredibly irrelevant but if he was a human he’d be chinese, i’ve claimed him, prodigal son older brother and fail son dynamic is there

Mylene Ferrow

While I like the idea of her being from a military family, I want to make her like Ling Wen (TGCF) in the sense she started from the bottom and climbed to the top... it fits her ambitious nature of grasping for more, she hasn’t reached what she considers the top just yet...

[very Ling Wen specific but Mylene being put in jail fr crimes unknown to me and being recruited by Hydron bcs she kicked serious ass is an entertaining thought]

I like to think she’s closest to Shadow due to the fact he kind of forces his presence onto her so... not her choice in that matter. “annoying” to “endearingly annoying, you still aren’t getting special treatment though”

Ofc Volt and Lync are on the same level, but I think they all know when to give each other space so they’re more of a “we hold each other at a distance, but we’re aware of out closeness which is enough for us”

Then its Spectra and then Gus in the “closest to Mylene” scale; she just straight up hates Gus and it’s mutual

whoever made the “Mylene and Spectra were exes” hc I think it’s really funny so I’m adding it here

terrible fashion, she’s the one who chose the outfits when she and Shadow went to earth; her fashionable armor look she usually has was designed with Volt’s help, she just voiced what she generally wanted

Her red lipstick look was bcs she thought it’d make her look more serious/ intimidating (Volt and Lync approved, it rlly does work on her)

Shadow matches w/ her (via his red nails) after they get teamed up tgt several times bcs he thinks they’re basically the go-to duo matchup whenever they’re assigned work n it’d be cool

Very forthcoming about the fact she used to be considered a criminal and was from same rundown area Volt and Lync come from

She’s grateful she got out of jail but she still has no respect for Hydron and despite how much she tries to hide it she does make it pretty clear to him she doesn’t really like him

I wish I had more to say about her... but It’s all relationship esque, i think in general she’s enjoyable and good so what I want more out of her is character dynamics

Lync Volan

[eng dub] he has grandparents; whether they’re still alive or not is...?

was part of the same area Volt is from

probably aware of each other but didn’t really know each other

you sound like you have mommy issues

came from the same area as Volt, but lived further out and closer to those areas where there were some bits of nature left

ill expand on why he got picked up by Hydron another day lazy rn

Volt Luster

[canon] he’s from an area that just straight up looks like yugioh 5ds’ Satellite, and Hydron was the one who pulled him out of there

He says Hydron pulled him out of there when he was a kid? I’d assume at youngest it’d be like Hydron (8) and Volt (11)

has a neat collection of handmade jester dolls

lot more artistic than he seems

Had his guardian bakugan with him the longest; had Brontes even before he met Hydron

Would the others consider him weird fr having a talking Bakugan that acted friendly with him n cracked jokes?

#bakugan #croak

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bubblegum-writes · 4 years

Text

quid pro quo

request: Hello!! I was thinking if you could write something with Katsuki where his s/o is a healer / booster for him and his quirk - basically her healing and quirk boosting abilities work best with quirks that are associated with warm temperatures, she can boost his damage by 75% - in short he has to look after her and stuff because when she boosts his powers she gets weak and so after fights they snuggle with each-other in his dorm 🥺💗 sorry if this is too specific 🥺

A/N: IM SO SORYR LORD HAVE MERCY THIS IS LATE BUT LIFE IS SHIT YA KNOW!!!!! also dont u worry ur pretty little head no need to be sorry! im tryna explore new ways of storytelling so i apologize if this is shit lol. also the italics are gonna be semi-flashback things if that makes sense. AGAAAIIN bnha and katsuki bakugou aren’t mine so copyright go and eat my entire asshole lol. also this aint edited at allllll lol

For having a quirk that works best with quirks that raise the surrounding temperature or warm temperatures in general, Japan wasn’t the best place for whatever god to put you at when you were born. The temperature could get decently hot during summer, that is true, but the winters can be equally, if not more, brutal. Not only did it affect your quirk, but your entire mood and aura. During these colder months, your classmates felt both the cold winter winds and your sour mood. No matter how hard they tried to cheer you up, they couldn’t help that your body simply wasn’t made for the cold.

“C’mon, let’s go out and have a snowball fight!” Denki had suggested from his spot on the common room couch. Classes were over for the week and plenty of snow had fallen on the ground for there to be ample fun to be had within it. Mina, Sero, and Kirishima all hollered in excitement, while the rest of those present either hummed in agreement or moaned in annoyed interest. You, however, didn’t say or even acknowledge the blonde’s suggestion, as you were too busy lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket with multiple heating pads on you.

“What about (Y/N)? We don’t want to exclude anyone due to health or quirk conditions!” Tenya nearly shouted as he lectured everyone about the importance of ‘never leaving a man behind’. You briefly smiled and thanked the universe for making Iida so considerate (and even more briefly entertained the idea of going out). You turned yourself and all the blankets around you towards the rest of the group and smiled slightly. It wasn’t lost on anyone that the cold was never kind to you, so they all started coming up with ways for you to enjoy the fun they had planned.

“We could tape the blanket around you!” Said Tsuyu, pointing to a blushing Sero’s elbows.

“No, we could get one of those hamster balls, heat it up, and put you in!” Izuku proposed.

“You stupid fucking extras, I have the best idea,” came a voice that had yet to speak during the whole ordeal. Katsuki was leaning back in one of the couches, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Everyone turned silent as they looked towards the explosive man, even you raised your head from the ground to lend your ear to what he had to say. You had yet to notice that he had joined everyone in the common room, assuming he went to workout earlier. “(Y/N), you come out with us and have a good time,” his lips slowly turned into a light-hearted smirk, “Afterwards, I’ll take you to your favorite ramen shop to warm up.”

Immediately, the room erupted in noises of confusion and elation. Confusion due to the fact that no one else was aware of yours and Katsuki’s certain… relationship and elation due to the fact that everyone could finally go out and play. What you and Katsuki had was a cute relationship, born out of necessity but had grown into something more. He knew that you despised the cold, and that your quirk didn’t work well in it either. He found this out when you two had been partnered one day in a tag-team sparring exercise.

“Alright, (Y/N) and Bakugou, you guys are going against…” You didn’t bother paying attention to who you were going to battle; all you could focus on was the fact you had been paired with Katuski, your well-kept secret of a crush. You felt your body flush with heat as you searched the training grounds for him. You eventually found him with his eyes already burrowing into yours. You saw the fire within his eyes to be one of anger or maybe even hatred, but you couldn’t have been farther from the truth. You had also caught his eye; sure, you weren’t the most powerful person in the class, but your quirk had the ability to boost those that were at work around you. On top of that, you could also use the same quirk to heal those around you, at the cost of expending your energy and use it to restore another person’s body.

“Oi, (Y/N), get your ass over here!” Katsuki yelled from across the small area as he waved you over. Shaking your head out of your haze, you jogged over to him with a nearly unnoticeable shyness on your face. “So, I have a strategy and you’d better listen to it!” Katsuki nearly spat in your face. You winced, but during the whole time he was talking, you had to focus everything you had on what he was actually saying, and not on his beautiful red eyes, or his soft-looking hair, or his toned muscles, or his plump li-

“Did you get all of that?” He taunted with one perfect eyebrow raised. Despite your best efforts, you'd had completely and utterly failed to pay attention to his strategy.

“Uh, could you give me the short version of it again?” You shyly asked, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Fine! Long story short, you stay behind me and make sure I don’t get too hurt and I’ll make sure they don’t touch you.” Katsuki started the sentence with a snarl, but by the end, his face had relaxed and his eyes almost held a tenderness to them. You told yourself you were seeing things as you peered into his eyes and just quickly nodded your head. The both of you took your spots on the field, and without noticing one another, you both were glancing out of your peripherals to make sure the other was okay.

This was also when you noticed your opponents for this fight.

“Oh no,” you whispered under your breath. You and Katsuki were up against Shouto and Mina. You weren’t too worried about Mina and her quirk; as long as you could avoid her streams of acid, you were in the clear. Shouto, on the other hand, would be difficult for you to overpower or even avoid. If he hit you with his ice quirk just once, you were almost guaranteed to be done for, for at least the next couple hours. There was fear clearly written on your face as you noticed Shouto, and Katsuki didn’t ignore it. He knew the basics of your quirks and that the cold would inhibit you, and sometimes even harm you far more than a regular person.

“I need to keep (Y/N) safe,” Katsuki thought as Aizawa started the sparring fight. Part of his mind told him that he thought that because if she went down, most likely, so did he. However, the majority of his conscience told him he thought that for far more romantic and loving reasons.

“C’mon you fucking extras!” Katsuki yelled and teased as he blasted himself high in the sky, making sure you were moving far away from your guys’ opponents. He focused on Shouto and Mina and tried to decipher what their strategy was. Mina started excreting acid from her body as Shouto started to use his ice quirk to quickly strike you down. You were running as fast as you could from both of them to try to gain as much distance as you could before Katsuki could blow them to smithereens. However, that didn’t quite happen. Shouto had absolutely no ill feelings towards you, but this was a battle he planned on winning. Both he and Mina used as much power as they could muster to ensure that you were out of the fight so they could focus on Katsuki. However, Katsuki realized this too little too late. They would take you down, then focus on him

“(Y/N)! Watch it!” Katsuki yelled as he lowered himself to the ground close to Shouto and Mina. Despite the short distance between Katsuki and the opposing team, they still focused on you. You only turned around in time to see Shouto’s ice start nearly grasping your feet and ankles; you ran even harder as you nearly hyperventilated trying to run away from him. Katsuki saw the absolute horror in your eyes, and launched himself to stand between you and Shouto and Mina.

Despite all he had given, he was too late.

Right after you turned around for the second time, you saw and felt the ice start to curl around your feet. A harsh scream left your lips, which made even Aizawa cringe and almost call off the whole battle. Mina had long stopped her acid attacks to ensure you weren’t hurt by her quirk, but she watched in horror as Shouto slowly encompassed you in ice. Your body convulsed in an almost demonic way, your feet facing outwards as you bent at the waist as the ice crept upwards. Your screams only increased in both volume and levels of anguish as tears started leaving your eyes. You turned towards Shouto to start pleading for him to stop, but he did as soon as he saw your red and teary eyes. The ice had reached your chest at this point and your arms were held by your sides. The pain you felt was extraordinary; your body felt as if it were cracking in every joint and bone it had. The pain was so horrible that as soon as you closed your eyes to blink away the tears, you had no choice but to finally pass out from the pain.

“(Y/N)!” Both Mina and Shouto yelled as your head went lip as your body was encased in ice. Shouto ran up to start thawing you, but Katsuki quickly landed and kicked him out of the way.

“Get out of the way, fucking Half-n-Half!” He snarled at the Todoroki boy. Katsuki gave him one of the most evil looks he could muster before he turned around and put his hands on the ice around you. Hehastily went to work to get you out of the ice as Aizawa started walking (albeit quickly, as he was concerned for his students’ wellbeings) towards you all. The ice quickly melted before the teacher could get to the scene, and before Aizawa could put a word in, Katsuki declared, “I’m taking (Y/N) to Recovery Girl!”

Before Aizawa or even Shouto or Mina could mouth their opinions, Katuski had melted your body from the ice, picked you up bridal-style, and started sprinting towards the nurses’ office. You were barely holding on to consciousness, but the last thing you saw was Katsuki’s face as he ran to get you help.

After that terrifying incident, when Katsuki refused to leave your side even after Recovery Girl had given you the all-clear, it became clear to you and most of the class that there was something more to your guys’ relationship than classmates. No one would dare to comment on it for fear of being the object of Katsuki’s anger. Which led to this moment, where the class was gearing up to play in the snow with everyone stealing glances at Katsuki helping you into your snowgear. No one had ever seen him so gentle and the look of pure adoration in his eyes was hard to miss.

As soon as everyone was thick with layers and looked like plush, colored marshmallows, the class ran from the common room to the outside where the fluffy white flakes had created a plush playground for them. Small cheers and whoops erupted as everyone went their separate ways, with Momo and Ochako starting to build a snowman with Mezo using his multiple hands to grab as much snow as possible to add to the growing pile. Denki and Eijiro had started a snowball fight between them and Shouto and Izuku, and Fumikage and Toru had started building an igloo.

You, however, were shivering out of your socks. You and Katsuki had barely made it out of the doors before you stopped in your tracks.

“Tch, come on, have some fun with these losers,” Katsuki murmured in your ear, causing shivers to run up your spine, “and I’ll let you be the big spoon for once.”

You immediately ran to join the nearest group of classmates faster than you could say, “Really?” Throughout the day, you spent quality time with most everyone in the class. Truth be told, they were happy to see you come out of your comfort zone and actually enjoy all the weather had to offer. You even forgot why you were out in the cold in the first place, you were having so much fun! However, as the sun flew threw the sky and evening became night, everyone finally tuckered out and retired back to the dorms. As everyone else went to their respective rooms, you and Katsuki gathered in his.

He knew that spending time in the cold would make you tired and possibly even sore because of your quirk, but he always remembered how to make you feel better again. Usually, it was a bath that he had prepared, scorching hot with a bath bomb or two, take-out, and whatever was on Netflix that fit the mood. Today was no different; as you warmed up and chilled out in the bath, Katsuki called your favorite ramen shop and ordered your favorite item for delivery. After a while, you came out of the bathroom with your pajamas on and a face mask upon your face. He smiled, a smile only reserved for you, a soft and gentle smile he was, quite frankly, scared to show anyone else. You scuffled over to his bed and joined him under his blankets, and quickly wrapped yourself in his arms. Artificial heat didn’t compare to heat produced by a human, especially that of Katsuki. Quickly forgetting both the incoming ramen and your face mask, you fell asleep in his arms as he traced meaningless patterns over your back and scratched your scalp gently. Well, they might have been meaningless to you, but he was consciously drew the characters for “I love you” deep in your skin, just in case you would ever forget.

#bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #katsuki fluff #my writing

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bellamyblakru · 3 years

Note

recently followed and have been reading all your fics- can I request the bad things bingo “reopening an old wound” with Arthur being too tough to stay in bed like gaius said and Merlin taking care of him 🥺

HELLO OMG. this is so kind🥺thank you for following and reading my fics!! it truly means a lot to me🥺💞 i hope this doesn’t disappoint!! (also you sent this like over a week ago ajsmaja im so sorry it took me so long. i wrote this instead of sleeping tonight just for you😌🙌🏻)

here it is on ao3 and down below!! thank you so much again🥺

Merlin was going to strap Arthur to his bed—and not in the fun way. The dollophead was just so adamant in joining this stupid tournament he was hosting for the dignitaries that came from Nemeth.

“Merlin,” Arthur drawled out in that totally-not-endearing-way he does, “we’ve been over this! I must participate. I am King for a reason! I cannot back down. How would I look to them? Cowardly?” He scoffed at Merlin, who was scowling at the fireplace to refrain from magicking the king to another land for the entirety of the tournament.

“Stop that.” Arthur demanded, coming to sit down next to Merlin.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Arthur huffed, “You’re thinking about doing something illegal to get me out of this.”

Merlin frowned, “No. I wasn’t.”

“Hmhmm,” Arthur sang in disbelief, “I’m sure.”

Merlin sighed in defeat, “Arthur, you just started healing from the hunting accident and you know Gaius will be crossed that you directly went against his advice to stay in bed.”

Arthur folded his arms against his chest, “I’m not scared of going against Gaius, Merlin.”

Merlin smirked, “Now who’s lying?”

Arthur slumped against the front of the chair, “Alright, Gaius can be scary. But I’ve already made up my mind. And if anything does happen to me, you’ll be there anyways, right? What’s to worry about?”

Merlin conceded to that, “Fine, but just know I’ll be mad the entire time.”

Arthur let out a light laugh, placing his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, “I can live with that.”

Merlin fake scowled at him, making Arthur laugh again, so, just because he could, he magicked a pillow to hit the King’s face—this led to a very dignified pillow fight that both will profusely refuse happened later.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur wouldn’t say he regretted participating per se, but when his shoulder started pounding and, if he looked at it for longer than three seconds, blood may be seeping through his tunic, he can’t really say he was happy with his early choices.

Not that he would tell Merlin this, of course, who was giving him a waterskin with narrowed eyes.

“Arthur.”

“Hmm?” Arthur was staring at the two men fighting in the arena, each wielding quarterstaffs, who were amateur fighters at best.

“You’re favoring your right side, did you know that?”

Arthur’s head snapped to Merlin, “What? No I’m not.”

Merlin scowled at him, “You’re lying!”

Arthur pouted, “No I’m not.”

Merlin gasped, pointing a finger in his chest, “You’re doing it again! Arthur, you have some tells, you know.”

Arthur swatted away the finger, “No I don’t.”

Merlin, the idiot, laughed, “No? You always raise your eyebrows a bit when you lie, sire , and I know this for a fact.”

Arthur frowned, he thought he grew out of that, “No one can ever tell! I have to lie all the time in court and no one ever calls me out!”

Merlin sighed, rather dramatically, “Arthur, they also didn’t spend every godforsaken second for years memorizing your emotions as I did.”

Arthur tilted his head, contemplating that, “Why did you do that?”

That took Merlin off guard, which Arthur had hoped for, giving his servant a sly smile, as Merlin went violently red, a flush coming up from his neck to his ears, “What else was I supposed to do? I look at your face for the majority of the day, Arthur. I’m sure you know all my tells as well.”

Arthur hummed nonchalantly, “Whatever you say, Merlin.”

He did know all of Merlin’s mannerisms and what they meant, but he wasn’t going to say that nor was that his goal here.

Merlin shook his head, the momentarily forgotten anger returning, “That wasn’t the point! You’re hurt!”

At the same time Arthur opened his mouth to lie again, he was called out for his next match. That was his goal—to distract the mother hen of a servant until it was too late.

With a what can you do? shrug, that made Merlin frown more, Arthur quickly spun and walked onto the field, ignoring the burning stare of his worried warlock at his back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Merlin groaned as Arthur won the match, again. The idiot was hurting himself. Merlin could tell by the subtle weight changes to his right side, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes, the way he paled slightly when Gwaine slapped him on the shoulder in congratulations.

He couldn’t believe this was the man he fell in love with. Destiny was a cruel thing indeed.

Merlin watched as Arthur let himself be manhandled by his knights, and Merlin couldn’t help but realize that put the entire gaggle of men in armor between them. Merlin narrowed his eyes at the rather clever tactic by his king.

As if sensing his disappointing glare, Arthur’s eyes found his. At least this time Arthur looked marginally apologetic, but not enough for Merlin’s taste. Was it really so bad that Merlin actually cared for Arthur’s well-being more than a stupid tournament?

He couldn’t fathom this. How was hitting people worth the pain Arthur must be in? Merlin grimaced when Leon slung his arm over the king, who imperceptibly winced at the movement.

When the next round called up, Merlin wanted to slam his head against the fence. Arthur was going against a sorcerer this round, because apparently the Merlin didn’t have enough to worry about as it was.

The sorcerer bounced on her heels, smiling at the king. Arthur smiled back, if not a little perplexed at the bubbly nature of the woman, and they shook hands.

Maybe this won’t go horribly wrong?

But when it began, Merlin recanted his statement vehemently. Of course it would go horribly wrong, it was Arthur he was talking about.

When the woman swung her quarterstaff at Arthur’s injured shoulder with her eyes glowing, Merlin jumped out of his seat. He ran into the field the second the staff hit its mark: Arthur went even more pale, and with a loud pained gasp, let go of his sword, landing roughly on his knees, grasping his shoulder.

Merlin didn’t hesitate. He took a stance between his king and the sorcerer, making Arthur’s blade fly into his own hand.

“Sorry, this ends now,” and with a swing of his sword, his eyes glowing the deepest golden, he attacked. Relentless, hurried, and cursing, Merlin had the woman at sword point in the matter of seconds—without breaking a sweat.

The woman’s eyes widened at the sword, hastily backing away with “I yield, my lord.”

Merlin wasn’t a lord, but he didn’t care to correct her as he handed the sword to Lance and went to Arthur’s side.

“That was a little overdramatic, don’t you think?” Arthur sighed out, pain clearly seen on his face, trying to make eye contact with Merlin.

Merlin grumbled, “Not remotely enough.”

Arthur let out a breathless, and delirious, laugh, “I think I’m bleeding out.”

And before anyone came closer, Merlin’s magic flared up.

The second he looked up, he realized that his magic brought them to Arthur’s chambers. With a small sigh of relief, Merlin made all the armor fall off and lifted Arthur’s tunic from over his head gently—hissing at the reopened wound pouring out blood.

“Arthur! You should have said something,” Merlin scolded, placing his hands of the opening and imagining the skin stitching itself back together—this would hold until Gaius came up and fixed Arthur himself.

Arthur looked at Merlin through clouded eyes, smiling softly, “Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?”

Merlin couldn’t help but soften at the look on Arthur’s face, “Careful, sire, keep looking at me like that and one could think you were besotted.”

Arthur murmured, “Indeed.”

Merlin was about to say something, not knowing what it would be, when Gaius crashed through the room with his healing bag in tow.

“Thank gods,” Merlin pushed himself out of the way as Gaius worked, helping him move Arthur to his bed when he was all patched up once more.

Arthur was lightly sleeping when Gaius made Merlin swear to magic the king down if he tried to move at all, and when Merlin swore his life on it, the old healer left them to their own devices.

An hour or two later, Merlin still hadn’t left Arthur’s chambers. He was currently sitting besides the king, placing a cool cloth to Arthur’s forehead, running his fingers through the golden sweat-soaked hair.

Merlin was singing softly when Arthur slowly opened his eyes.

“Merlin?”

“Arthur! How do you feel?”

Arthur groaned a little, trying to sit up, as he answered, “Not too good, I have to say.”

Merlin snorted, “Well serves you right. I told you that this was an idiotic plan. Why did you even do it? You have nothing to prove.”

Arthur was quiet for a minute as Merlin placed more pillows under him to make the king more comfortable, “I have everything to prove.”

Merlin sat back, confused, “To who? Camelot already adores you Arthur, and you’ve only been king for less than a year!”

Arthur sighed, leaning his head back, “To you, to myself, to my knights.”

At Merlin’s continued confused silence, Arthur made himself look at him, “To my knights, to show them that I can persevere. To myself, since this was the first tournament as King. And, to you, to show you that your devotion was worth it. That I was worth it.”

Merlin gaped, “Arthur! You have nothing to prove to me. Ever.” but when Arthur scoffed and looked away, Merlin lightly grabbed Arthur’s face and turned it to make Arthur see the truth written in Merlin’s eyes.

“Arthur, you are my king, now and always. I chose you because I knew that you are everything beautiful in this world. I give you my magic, my heart, and my life, because I know, in my soul, that you are the best person I will ever know. I never doubt my devotion to you because you prove time and time again how worthy you are of every title you bear. You are not only the best King to grace this land, but you are the very best of us. I know you, Arthur Pendragon, inside and out—so, please, never doubt your worth to me.”

Merlin lightly rubbed the tear off Arthur’s face that had slipped out, and Merlin muttered, “And if you ever try to fight with a recently closed wound again, after I specifically tell you not to, then I will find a way to strap you here and never let you leave my sight again.”

Arthur let out a small wet laugh at that, grabbing Merlin’s wrist. And while rubbing small circles there, that had Merlin’s pulse quickening, “I don’t know,” Arthur whispered, “when you defended me like that on the field, it was quite attractive. I would have appreciated it more if I hadn’t been bleeding out and delirious.”

Merlin laughed under his breath, “I should apologize to her, huh?”

Arthur shrugged his good shoulder, “You can after.”

Merlin quirked an eyebrow, “After what?”

Arthur gave a playful smile as he pulled Merlin into a kiss by his neckerchief. Merlin gasped, quickly reciprocating, a small smile forming at his lips.

And when they pulled back, foreheads resting on each other, Arthur quietly breathed out, “I love you too.”

#ashley writes #bad things happen bingo #merthur #merthur fanfic #merthur fanfiction #merlin #bamf merlin #reopening an old wound #i hope you like this!! im exhausted ™️ and will fall asleep the minute i get this up and posted #lovely anon #sassenachaj

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kwrittink · 4 years

Text

Unless?

Pairing: Reader x Im Jaebum (FTL)

Genre: PWP

Warnings: language, sexual insinuation, mentions of hanjob and description, mentions of bowjob and description.

"Fuck, I'm so tired..." Your friend groaned as he dropped on the couch beside you, hand reaching out to pinch at your sweater, slightly pulling you towards him.

"Rough day?" You snickered, giving in and leaning on his side, his arms immediately encasing you against his chest, squeezing you once and sighing. That kind of coziness was usual with you two, knowing each other since your teenage years. It had something else mixed with it, you had to admit, but it was easy to ignore that itch and avoid risking that friendship.

Though discreet teasing wasn't beyond any of you.

"Yeah, my whole body hurts, who would have thought producing songs could stress someone out like this." He rolled his eyes tiredly, head tipping back to the couch. You couldn't help to stare at his jaw and neck, having the urge to press your lips on the skin and discover what sound Jaebum would make, what would happen next. But again, you kept it to yourself in favor of friendship.

"Do you want a massage or something?" You still offered, knowing he enjoyed a shoulder rub sometimes and making an excuse to put your hands on him. It wasn't like you had ulterior motives every time, just that you did see the pros and cons of your actions.

Jaebum shook his head. "No, I just want to stay still for a bit, recharge my spirits." You smiled as he pulled you closer, making you rest your head at his chest, the steady rythm of his heart your personal favorite beat.

"You know, I'd advise you to take a bath and go beat one off, but you're very comfy," you joked, hearing him bark a laugh and shake his head at you.

"Why do I feel like that comes from experience, hm?" He looked down at you, a smirk playing in the corner of his lips.

"Because it does. An orgasm really does the trick, you know." You stared matter-of-fact, trying to keep a serious expression on, but failing miserably as you held your gaze for just a couple seconds. He

"Must be nice. But I'm too lazy to move my arm right now,"

"I could do it for you, if you want,"

"... What?"

"What?"

"Did you just offer me a handjob?" He turned his body to face you in surprise, one of his legs bending in front of him, unconsciously pushing you away.

"I mean it's a joke," you shrugged awkwardly, face burning as you tried to look away from his now falling expression.

"Oh..." And the disappointment was so clear on his voice that you felt compelled to look back, swallowing dryly.

"Unless..."

There was silence. For what it felt an eternity, you stared at each other's eyes, trying to grasp the seriousness of the other.

"But what about us-"

"This doesn't have to change anything if you don't want to," you started, pulling away from his body, putting some space in between your bodies to properly look at his face. Jaebum had his jaw slack as he stared back at you, shock completely stamped on his face. "W-we can even pretend I've never said anyth- Oh dear." You almost choked as your eyes glanced downwards, meeting a very prominent outline straining against your best friend's jeans.

"I don't think I'm able to forget what you've said at this point, Y/N." His voice was low, eyes never leaving your face. You breathed out almost... Relieved in a way, grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

Slowly you crawled back to him, closing the small gap back again, kneeling in front of him. "Okay then Im Jaebum, I'm going to touch you."

You were able to see his face finally relaxing as he nodded, eyelids lowering as he pressed one elbow on the armrest behind him, leaning the weight of his torso on it, stretching the previously bent leg beside you and, efficiently putting himself at your mercy. You had to bit your lower lip while admiring the image in front of you as you touched his knees, sliding your palms upwards.

"Fuck," you heard him curse under his breath, your fingers barely reaching the now twitching bulge. It made you smile, ego swelling in your chest to see Jaebum this riled up about whatever you would do to him.

Ignoring the silent beg to be touched properly you kept your way up his torso, breaching his shirt and feeling soft skin under your fingertips, teasing it with your nails just to test the waters, get to really know what would drive him insane. Jaebum sighed as he saw you had no intentions of giving in just yet, closing his eyes and enjoying your exploring.

In a sudden move, you flicked his nipples lighty, making his eyes shoot open and gasp, about to ask what you were doing, but you quickly drew back, giving a firm squeeze to his crotch and immediately making him hiss at the sudden contact, even if still over the clothes.

"Y/N, pl- C'mon..." His frustrated tone shouldn't please you so much, the way he pinched his shirt discreetly, eyes pleading.

"Sheesh, a girl can't have her fun..." You joked under your breath, not even trying to hide the wide grin on your lips as you looked back up again, meeting his glare.

Getting back to your task, you struggled a little with his belt before yanking it open, starting to get eager yourself to unwrap him. You glanced at Jaebum again, finding him focused on your hands with a bitten lower lip and breathing heavily, only hitching quietly when you were able to pop his button and drag the ziper down.

"Raise your hips a little please," you asked, voice faltering as he looked up at you again. Jaebum almost made you feel nervous, wasn't for how aroused you were already by just his expressions.

As he did as you requested, you made quick work of both the jeans and boxers underneath, tugging them down in a swift movement, just enough that his erection sprung free, slapping up his clothed stomach. Both you and Jaebum cursed quietly. You could only imagine how his cock was before but somehow the real thing was better. More fitting.

Tentatively, you wrapped one hand around the shaft and gave it a small squeeze, watching as Jaebum tensed immediately, gaze trained on your movements.

"Feels so hard Bomie," you tried to speak, licking your lips in an attempt to make your mouth work properly. "Does it hurt?"

"Hah- A little," he cleared his throat, also having some issues with communication. "On the tip..." He pointed out and as if by prompting you moved your hand up, caressing the pointed out part, smearing the precum that already oozed from the head. Jaebum hummed pleased with your ministrations, giving you the last of confidence you needed to really get your hands on him.

Wrapping both of your hands around his cock you started to jerk him slowly at first, putting some pressure on his tip and dragging long groans from his throat, Jaebum gradually getting louder as you made him feel good.

"F-fuck feels good Y/N," he started when your pace got random. "Your hands on my cock, shit, so damn good!" He grunted, closing his eyes and you observed his face, noticing sweat starting to form on top of his furrowed brows.

"You wanna cum already? You can cum whenever, I wanna make you feel good, m'kay?" You reassured him but Jaebum shook his head.

"No, 'm not cumming yet." He stated, and you weren't sure if he was telling you or trying to convince himself of that. His dick throbbed in your hands flushed red, and you wanted nothing more to make him release, feel his cum stain your hands, your face...

"Jaebum," you called him, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you in a haze, lower lip caged between his teeth. "I want to taste you, so bad."

For a second you noticed he didn't know what to do, eyes shaking and lips gaping before your friend nodded brokenly, down to whatever you wanted to do to him by that point.

You were trying to keep in control, on the back of your mind thinking that going too deep with the whole thing would be bad. But by then you too were barely stopping yourself from straddling him and letting Jaebum have your way with you.

Scooting back a little, you focused on his cock and practically salivated as you leaned closer. This was to be etched in your memory forever, the stare Jaebum was giving you, looking so fucked out already as he sat up straighter to watch you better, fingers running over his tousled locks.

"Hnng- Holy sh-" you could physically feel the shudder that ran over his body when your lips wrapped around his tip, suckling experimentally. You hummed at the tang of his precum, eyes falling close as you lowered further, tongue flattening on his length.

"Y/N, damn- That's so good hah," Jaebum straight up moaned, one if his hands shooting to the back of your head, just as a reflex. "Just like that, that's it!"

His sounds had your gut twisting and tingling, so much it was hard to avoid moaning around his cock every time the tip hit the back of your throat. You could feel his fingers twitching on your hair, eager to control your movements, fuck your mouth on his cock.

The breaking point was your fingers reaching his balls, delicately rolling the heavy loaded organ in your hand, causing his hips to jut upwards, the other hand finally joining in the back of your head and grabbing at your hair carelessly, pressing you down till your nose was pressed to his base.

"Y/N I'm- I'm gonna fuck your mouth I need to mmh cum in your pretty mouth," you forced yourself to keep your eyes open to look at Jaebum as he thrusted up shallowly into your mouth, grunting nonsense with every thrust. You were gagging, spit pooling at the sides of your lips by then, eyes teary with the invasion. But in a weird way, it felt so good to see him loosing his mind over you.

The closer he was to sweet release, the louder he got. Among moans he changed your name, forcing your head deeper down as you struggled to keep a pace between sucking and laving his cock, that throbbed hard inside your mouth. And you wanted nothing more to see him finish, so you tried the move that for him crazy one more time, fingers touching delicate skin before grabbing at the sensitive organs and rolling them carefully, watching Jaebum trash and tremble with his head thrown back, mouth slack as he breathed hard.

"I'm - fuck - cumming! I'm cum- hngah shit I love you I'm cumming Y/N, fuck fuh!" And as foretold, ribbons of thick cum started coating the inside of your mouth while you tried to swallow, helping his high with a lazy hand stroking at his base.

You heard what he said, you heard the confession but, in the midst of an orgasm it was really easy to say those things, to blurt enhanced feelings.

"I said it, didn't I?"

"What? You said a lot of thing, Boomie," you tried to play dumb, cleaning the corners of your lips with your thumb, feeling a sorta welcome soreness in your jaw.

Not a man of patience, Jaebum groaned in frustration and pulled you by the arm, and hadn't you held on his shoulders, you would have tipped off the couch. But there was no time to complain of his roughness when his lips pressed against yours, skin a little cold from the recent climax, his still trembling hands reaching to grip your face and keep you there, stunned, till you found the way to breathe again and sighed against his lips, finally kissing him back.

Before the exchange got deeper Jaebum pulled away, still holding your face as he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Please let's not ignore this happened. Be with honest me, Y/N."

"Jaebum you-"

"I know. I know you think I said that because of the moment, but I already loved you before. I couldn't hold it any longer."

You opened your eyes to look at him, smiling a little as you moved to hold his sides. "That's what he said," you joked, making him roll his eyes and groan.

"Look I love you but shut up and kiss me," Jaebum scoffed, pressing his lips back to yours again and you chuckled, responding to the request by wrapping your arms around his neck.

_____________________________________

drabbles/scenarios

#jaebum x reader #jaebum smut #jaebum pwp

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wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

Breathe Deeper

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,324

Prompt: “Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” (from a random prompt generator)

Warnings: murder, violence, staging a suicide, ~feelings~

A/N: cafe bustelo does wonders for you at 1 am anyway ive been trying to finish this for like two months. have a couple more ideas for these two but feel free to send me any ideas or requests and ill do em if the inspo strikes! also title is purely the song im listening to as i type this out and has no correlation to the story LOL but hey if yall like tame impala enjoy

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

A single pop is heard as a bullet flies out of your gun into the head of the old man who opened the door.

“Christ! No build up?! No tension?! No confirmation that it’s even him?!” Bucky yells as he wiggles his ear to rid the ringing from it.

You brush past Bucky and slide the gun back into the holster strapped to your thigh. You step over behind whatever his name was, Bucky’s having trouble remembering after that blow to his eardrum, and hook your hands under his arms in order to drag him back into the empty house.

“Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” Bucky questions you as he closes the door behind him, stepping in between splatters of blood.

“Nope, gotta leave leftovers for the bugs that live in my mouth.”

“That’s gross.”

“Shut up, help me lug this guy to the bedroom.”

The two of you are in a small town in Northern Oklahoma on the property of one of your ex-Hydra handlers. After a few days of researching, the two of you were able to figure out where he moved to and what he changed his name to after retiring from his prior lifestyle.

“I knew it was him from the second I saw him. You never forget.” You explain to him, both of you positioning his body in the corner of the room.

“You go clean up the entryway, I’ll finish staging over here.” Bucky offers it to you. He takes out his own gun from his own waistband and fires a single shot through the same hole you put in between the guy’s eyes. The splatter that explodes on the walls behind him are perfect, artistic almost. Bucky then starts looking around the room; in the closet, under the bed, until he reaches the night stand where a pretty little pistol lays. Not the same gun as his, but he has a feeling the police system in such a small and unpopulated town won’t bother to investigate this death as a murder as opposed to the obvious suicide that took place.

Bucky notices the small skull and octopus stamped into the side of the gun as he places it in his hands. He rolls his eyes before making his way back over to the entryway where you’re sat on the ground, scrubbing away with a rag in your hands and a bottle of bleach next to you.

Bucky walks over and takes a seat on the loveseat positioned a few feet away from where you are.

“So, where we heading after this?” Bucky asks you, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the arm of the seat.

“Back to New York? You probably gonna be busy working on that murder case.” You glance at him confused before going back to scrubbing.

Bucky pauses before speaking again, “How do you know about that?”

“I… keep up with my fair share of news.”

“You don’t pay for newspapers nor do you have a TV or a phone; you don’t have news. Besides, we haven’t released any information to the public about anything before we get more leads. So, how do you know about that?” Bucky stares at you, eyebrows pinched a bit in the middle as he awaits your answer.

“Do you wanna stop and get some pie on the way back?”

“No. Did you see something about the murders?” Bucky ignores your attempt at changing the subject.

“You just said you haven’t released anything-”

“I don’t mean on the news, I mean in that empty head of yours.” He teases.

You sigh, “I hate when you ask me about my… head.”

“Well, you could be helping here! You can try and be good!”

“I’m sitting on the floor scrubbing an old guy’s blood out of the wood of his own house after I’ve just blown his brains out.”

“Yeah, a bad old guy!”

You get off the last of the specks of blood before standing up and screwing the cap back onto the bottle of bleach. “I didn’t even see anything about the killer, anyway.”

“So, what did you see?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Fetch me a bone here, doll.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that, dog.”

He grabs the bleach and rag from your fingers to free up your hands from carrying anything. Tingles travel up the tips of your fingers and flow up through your wrist into your chest. You glance up and make eye contact with Bucky and the dramatic puppy eyes and pouty lips he’s throwing your way.

You stare for a few more seconds before looking away, “Check that huge pond in Central Park tomorrow. His next victim will be floating there.” You satisfy him before turning and making your way back outside and to the car the two of you took on your little road trip.

While walking back to the parked car, Bucky quickly rushes in front of you and grasps the handle before you can reach it, allowing you to get in the car while he holds it open for you. He throws you an innocent looking smile, a smile coming from a person who surely didn’t just stage a suicide. You bite back your own smile before taking a seat and letting Bucky close the door behind you.

…

When you open your eyes after your nap, it's dark outside the moving car. You slowly lift your head up off the car window and glance over at Bucky, who you now realize is on the phone with someone.

“I told you, it was a weird anonymous number, Sam. I don’t know where it came from.” Bucky speaks softly on the phone before turning his head to look at you in your sleepy state.

“All they said was to check the pond in Central Park tomorrow. I know it’s sketchy, but we don’t have any other leads anyway, we might as well try it.”

“We sounds like a lot of people, ain’t you say that to me one time? Not all of us are on vacation, you know.” You hear another deep voice through the tiny speaker of the phone against Bucky’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, man.”

Bucky wraps up his conversation as you process what you’ve heard. Bucky has lied, again, to the government, to Captain America, in order to protect you and your existence.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks before your thoughts can get too far from you.

“Fine. We’re already heading back to New York?”

“We’re stopping at a motel for the night, but after tomorrow’s drive, we’ll get there by sundown.”

You sit up proper and stretch your legs as far out in front of you as you can, the bones crunching and popping in relief at the new position. Bucky cringes next to you. He glances at you and watches you pick at the crust gathered at the corners of your eyes, a yawn escaping you along with the last of your grogginess.

Bucky doesn’t know how he’d fully express it to you, but he’s so happy to see the person you’re growing into. Everyday a little bit more of your personality, your mannerisms, your weirdness, your humor, your ideas; everything about the real you, shows more and more. He sees this beautiful woman who, maybe a year and some ago, was walking the line of death and now sits beside him with neon green nail polish and mismatched socks and cute flower earrings adorning the curve of your ear. He stares at the tattoo on your neck, that angry red face with large eyebrows and wonders whether or not that was your idea or not. He wonders if you have any other tattoos hidden among the space of your skin, he doesn’t remember seeing any along your sides or stomach that nightmare of a night in his apartment-

“You’re swervin’.”

Bucky clears his throat and snaps his head forward, fixing the car to drive straight on the road. Soon, he sees the promising sign, “Motel in 10 Miles,” and the two of you park in the small lot of the light orange building.

The inside smells of old people, an aged scent that isn’t necessarily bad, but makes you scrunch your nose nonetheless. No bugs in clear sight and the roof is still intact, so it should be suitable for a night of rest.

“We only have rooms available on the first floor for tonight, I’m assuming you’ll want one bed?”

Bucky's throat goes dry for a second, “Yes, that’s fine.” He doesn’t want to consult you as you look far off out the front window of the lobby, back turned to the young woman at the front desk. No matter how small a town in whatever state there is at this point in their journey, there is no risking anyone recognizing you, even if your search mission has been deemed unsolved.

A plastic card is slid into Bucky’s right hand and he begins making his way back outside and down the walkway towards their room for the night. You follow him silently.

“I call showering first, I think there’s small clumps of blood still stuck in my hair.” You tell him, flinging your backpack onto the bed, and pulling out a large sweatshirt and panties and taking them into the bathroom with you.

While the water begins to run, Bucky undoes the blankets, looks thoroughly through the pillows and in between the sheets in search of bed bugs. Next, inspecting the lamps, outlets, and anything else that could possibly hide a camera, microphone, or any other device. He even contemplates tearing apart the carpet under his feet, but decides against the extra work. He places your bag along with his own backpack on the small table in the corner of the room and fixes the bed to not look like he tore it apart recklessly. I wonder what side she prefers-

The bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam flows out, you soon emerge with a towel wrapped around your head, large sweatshirt hanging off your frame and bare feet digging into the soft carpet beneath you. You fling the towel off of your head using momentum from throwing your head and neck forward, the towel landing on the floor in front of you and your wet hair sending a light spray Bucky feels on his warm face.

By the time Bucky finishes with his shower, the room resembles a sauna and his metal arm has gone hot. A long sleeved shirt and cotton shorts are slipped onto his body along with a pair of thick socks to keep him warm at all times. He steps out of the bathroom, using his towel to rub through his hair, and he spots you using the small mirror on the wall.

Your legs are on display and your underwear is in sight. Bright pink with WEDNESDAY printed on the behind in bubble letters, it’s Friday, the bottoms of your butt cheeks hanging out the bottom of the fabric. The cotton hugs your body and Bucky can’t help but blush at the sight. His mother would smack him over the head if she were here right now.

Your shirt is lifted, one of your hands holding it high on your chest where Bucky can see a slip of under your breast peeking, the curve intriguing him. Your other hand is occupied rubbing a colorless liquid along your side, Bucky focuses his attention and realizes your rubbing along the scar he left you from your stitches. The bottle on the table has a label that read Vitamin E Natural Oil.

Your fingers seem unbelievably soft and gentle as he watches them glide along your side, massaging the shiny oil into your smooth skin. You drop your sweatshirt and gather a bit more oil on your hands before rubbing it into your hips where Bucky can see the faintest stretch marks.

“Sorry ‘bout the scar. O-on your side, I mean.” Bucky stutters out, convincing himself that his body is warm from the shower he took.

“It probably saved my life, so I can’t say I’m sorry about it.” You respond without turning around, as though you knew he was there watching you lather yourself in oil like the beginning of a softcore porn but didn’t mind him enjoying the show.

“What’s that stuff for, anyways?” Bucky asks as he gathers his old clothes back into his bag, folding each piece before placing the packed bag next to yours on the table. Your bag that clearly does not have folded clothes, only crinkled ones. Bucky empties your bag and folds your clothes for you before neatly packing it and closing the zippers.

“Helps fade scars.”

“Yeah, but why? Scars are cool.”

“I suppose. I’d still like to lighten them a bit. So they look better, prettier.”

“You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in the last few decades.”

“You don’t even remember most of the last few decades,” You try to joke.

“I mean it. It’s a compliment. It’s okay to accept and enjoy compliments, doll.” Bucky looks at you, forcing you to meet his eyes. You see in your peripheries as he puts the cap on the bottle of oil and places it next to your bag. A small smile adorns his face as he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel a knot form in your throat.

It’s been a long while since you’ve received any kind of love, whether that be physical, emotional, mental, or self. It’s an overwhelming feeling when someone who you aren’t actually the closest with gives you such a deep and personal compliment.

Aren’t the closest with- this is your only friend he the only person you even know. The point is, being the most beautiful woman of the century is much different than having pretty hair or a good sense of humor.

You look away from him before the small bit of wetness can gather in your waterline.

“Which side of the bed do you prefer?” Bucky whispers softly to you, as to not break the safe atmosphere created by his sweet comment.

You clear your throat that now feels thick with tar, “The right.”

“Good. I prefer the left.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #~gasp~ and there was only one bed #series #oneshot

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years

Text

Your Rage - Din Djarin ( The Mandalorian)

Anonymous said:

I have a request!! If you don’t want to write this one, I totally get it! Sooo... I was wondering if you could write a blind!femreader who’s been travelling with Mando for sometime now and have already established a strong bond with one another. Let’s say one day blind!reader gets captured by a group of bounties that want to bait Mando and he obviously finds them. They fight, he kills all of them and he saves blind!reader and they go back to the crest and they get all soft and sweet! Thank you!

Since knowing Din Djarin, your life had become more dangerous than it had ever been before. Yet, you wouldn’t trade anything for the galaxy of possibility partnering up with Din has given you. Enough time had passed for you to grow fond of Din but not enough for you to know his anger, how strongly it burns when those he loves are in danger.

You couldn’t see your captors but you could smell them. One carried with him the odor of rotted meat and vinegar. The other reeked of predominantly stale spice smoke. Although, there were times when noxious hints of hyperfuel had you gasping for breath. Despite their shared stench, nothing was quite as vile as what you heard them say.

“Look at ‘er, can’t do nothing. Why’d the Mando take a likin’ to ‘er? Ugly thing, that one.”

“Worth more credits than you can even imagine though, Nuruka. Once we get the Mandalorian in our grasp. Riches will be ours.”

You had to bite your tongue to keep from snapping at them. Din would never slip into a trap so plainly set. Yet, you didn’t breathe a word. Silence became your strongest ally, even when the half-rate bounty hunters kicked at your cage. They were trying to draw out a reaction for you, get you to crack yourself open for them to pick at like scavenger birds.

“C’mon, ya piece a bantha foddah,” growled the one named Nuruka, “tell me all about ya lil’ Mando, yeah? You seen ‘im without dat helmet of his? Just as nasty as ya!”

You pressed your lip into a thin lip to keep from speaking.

“Elis, its’ not talkin’ one bit! We break it?”

The sound of clicking footsteps echoed in the air around you. “Leave her be. The scanners picked up an incoming ship.”

“The Mando?” Your heart began to race at the thought of Din coming to your rescue. At first, you were relieved. He had found you, he was coming for you. The thought of seeing him again, touching him again, it brought a smile to your face.

“Who else could it be, laserbrain! Are the traps set?”

“Heh, yeah, every bomb we got.” Dread filled your stomach at the bounty hunters’ words. You didn’t have to see Nuruka to know he was grinning. You imagined he smiled like he smelled, all rancid and slimy. “He don’t stand a chance, Elis.”

The two of them shared a deep chuckle that reminded you of the holomovies you would listen to as a child. People actually laughed like that? All on its own, the sound filled you with anger. They were so confident that Din would waltz right into their grasp.

You knew Din and you knew that he thought things through. He would know it was a trap and you were the set bait. Din would go about your capture as he did with all thing: he would be careful. He often warned you to do the same but the fire in your heart knew no bounds.

“He would never trip up,” you snapped suddenly, unable to hold your tongue. Elis and Nuruka’s laughter died at the sound of your voice. You heard a suddenly rustling and the screech of metal as one of them yanked your cage, pulling it up to jostle you.

“What ya say? You speak, eh, you lil’ rat! Why don’t ya start screamin’!”

Before you could speak up again, Nuruka started to shake your cage. You could feel the anger radiating in all its’ heat from his body. From that alone you knew that whoever and whatever Nuruka was he was massive. It took all you had to keep yourself from being thrown about your cage as the bounty hunter tossed it around.

“Stop! Put her down!” Elis’ screech broke through and suddenly, Nuruka set you and your cage down. Silence fell over the three of you. You listened, let the wild beat of your heart steady so you could focus. All you heard was the shifting of the ship in space.

“What is it E-”

“Shut it!” Elis hissed cruelly.

“Hey! Don’t-”

An explosive, a wall-shaking blast, roared up from whatever ship the bounty hunters were holding you on. You could feel the heat of the blast from under the floor which told you that the ship had to be, at least, a Class B freighter with two levels; and that Din had arrived.

“He’s here,” Elis snapped, “get your blaster!”

You could hear their panicked footsteps as they scrambled to find their weapons.

After the blast, the air around you seemed to hum. Jitters, pre-battle shakes, began to take hold of you and you attempted to stand in your cage. So cramped it was that, when you tried to straighten your posture, your head knocked against the ceiling. The cage was for small livestock and the bounty hunters that thrown you inside like yesterday’s trash. From inside, you would be no help to Din in the firefight to come.

“Scanners can’t pick ‘im up!” Nuruka shouted, nervousness lacing his voice.

“What?!”

A grin crept along your features as Nuruka and Elis shouted back and forth. Even if Din had set off the bombs by accident, the explosion was enough to loosen the wiring of the life-signature scanners. Essentially, Din was invisible. With the element of surprise with him, your partner stood a far greater chance.

Contented with that fact, you sat back in your cage with your arms crossed over your chest. You felt so light it was almost as if you were meditating. In knowing Din, you also knew that he would not leave you behind. So, you relaxed for the first time since your capture.

“Why does it look like that, Elis? Why is ‘er face all peaceful and such?”

“Focus Nuruka!”

“Don’t yell at me! I jus’ askin’ ya a-”

Before the brute could finish, a loud, startling metal ‘clang’ sounded in the room. A rush of air that smelled of smoke and chemicals hit your face, making you cringe. You heard Nuruka give a belly-full war cry before the blaster fire began. With a gasp, you pressed yourself to the cold floor of the metal cage. Smoke filled your lungs and you began to cough as the bounty hunters shot at each other.

With all the noise, it felt as if your ears were being assaulted; punched over and over again until all your heard was ringing. You squeezed your unseeing eyes shut and tried to focus on the sound of your heartbeat. When you couldn’t hear that, you thought of Din. You thought of his touch, the most recent time you felt his fingers dance along your neck and trailing love along your skin. You could not let that be the last time.

There was a sharp cry that broke through the ringing in your ears. A moment later, the blaster fire stopped. The air in your lung was still thick with plasma discharge and the ringing faded into silence. Suddenly, the sound of your heart filled your ears. Who won?

You stayed still as possible. Holding your breath, you played dead. You tried to, at least, until the steady sound of your heartbeat melted into another noise. Footsteps, almost as steady as your heart, echoed in your eardrums.

“Y/N.”

You sat up immediately, your fingers wrapping around the bars of the cage. “Din!”

“Hold on, I’ll get you out of here.”

“Din, did you-”

“They’re gone.” At his cold tone, you swallowed hard. “I had to, Y/N,” Din continued as you heard him fiddling with the door to your cage. “They would have…”

He trailed off and you didn’t ask him to finish. You knew well what his words implied. If he hadn’t come Nuruka and Elis would have lost their patience. They would have killed you or, possibly worse, sold you to the Hutts; any crimelord or smuggler for that matter.

So, you stayed quiet as Din released you from your confines. There was a rattling screech as Din opened the door. You felt his hands, strong and gloved, wrap around your wrist as he guided you out. You could also feel his rage, white-hot and still burning.

“Watch your head,” he said softly, “Y/N, are you hurt?”

And there is was, that softness you had always known from Din. You stepped out of the cage and stretched, Din’s hand still on your arm. “No, just...just tired. I want to go home.”

The hand Din still had on your forearm tightened at your words. It was a little touch, reminding you that, even though you couldn’t see him, he was always there; for you, specifically. You let him guide you out of the bounty hunter’s ship, letting Din’s hot anger cool with the movement. Whether it was adrenaline or fear, without it, Din was tired.

As you walked, you could feel Din beginning to grow heavy. To got to the point where you lifted your arm from his grip and wrapped your fingers around his bicep. When he leaned into you, you gave his arm a squeeze. You had never felt an anger like Din’s before, not one so strong that it left someone drained.

As you opened your mouth to ask him about it, you felt Din pull you to the side and heard a sliding door hiss open. “There’s a step, here.”

Din led you inside and you were hit with the familiar scents of the Razor Crest. The ship, the Razor Crest, and Din were the closest thing to home that you had ever encountered. It felt good to be back despite the worry that was eating away at you.

When you and Din were safely inside the Razor Crest, you squeezed his arm once more. “Din, wait, please.”

“What? Are you hurt?” You could feel his warmth as he stood before you. With gentle hands, you reached up and cupped his helmet.

“Please.” He knew your one-word plea and your felt his hands on your wrists. With a tenderness he reserved only for you, he placed your hands on his shoulders. You heard the hiss of his helmet as he lifted it off his head. There was a ‘clunk’ on the ground beside you and the slipping of fabric against rough palms.

Finally, Din’s hands, now bare, found your wrists again. You bit back the smile that threatened to spill over on your lips. Worry still clung to you even as you now clung to Din.

“May I?”

“Of course,” his raw voice, unhindered by his helmet, sent chills down your spine. With exploring hands, you traced your finger tips along his face. Jaw first, your trailed the pads of your fingers through his scruff. The coarse hair tickled your skin until you moved to his eyebrows. You mapped out his face with your hands, the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose; every last detail was yours to know and no one else's.

His cheeks were warm to the touch from where his anger had scorched his flesh.

“I could feel your rage,” you murmured. “I’ve never felt it so strongly before. You knew I would be safe.” Din opened his mouth, you could feel his jaw tense then relax as he spoke.

“You have too much faith in me.” He said it in a whisper, so softly that you couldn’t help but smile. “They set traps.”

“Poor traps,” you replied, “they talked about them. They rigged explosives in their own ship.” Din smiled, you could feel the dimple form in his cheek.

“So you had faith that they were inexperienced.”

“It sounded better when you said I had faith in you,” you fired back. A few seconds of quiet passed but it was enough time for worry to take a hold on you again. “Were you scared?”

“About the traps?”

“No,” you sighed, letting your hands fall to his neck. “I know you weren’t scared about the traps. You know what I mean.” Din’s hands found your waist, pulled your body flush to his.

“Terrified.” You let your thumbs rest on his cheeks and rub the skin to soothe him. “I’ve only...I don’t feel like that often. I…”

“It’s okay, Din,” you whispered. “I’m here. I won’t leave you again.” You could feel Din smile again but it was half-hearted; a bitter smile.

“That’s a promise neither of us can keep.” You nodded and traced your thumbs along his cheeks once more. He wasn’t wrong. This life, this home, you and Din shared was wild. You were just freed from a cage that rival bounty hunters had thrown you into.

“Okay then,” you leaned towards him, enticingly close. “We do know that we’ll always find each other. We’ll always find the other.”

“Always,” Din replied smoothly. Worry melted away as Din’s voice sounded light for the first time in ages. You leaned in, pressed your forehead to his asking silent permission. He didn’t answer, he didn’t have to. Instead, he kissed you with all the softness he could.

There were no enduring flames of angry. It was only you and Din in that moment. You would always find each other in the end. Always.

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