#not much i can say besides incomprehensible yelling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuanshenexplorer · 8 months

Text

"Thank You. Signed..."

Pairing : Wriothesley x Neuvillette Warning : Boy x Boy, Angst (at the beginning) This Pov (even if it's more like an one shot) was inspired by « The DJ is crying for help » by AJR ! Even if it don't really fit the lyrics X) Number of words : 1 476 (Not too bad, I'd say) Hope you’ll like it ! ^^

A subdued light filtered through the few gaps left by the blinds on the closed windows of his home, barely illuminating this room of scattered belongings, unmade bed, and where a dark silhouette stood in a fetal position. He had hidden his face between his arms and, behind a cascade of white hair, was holding back tears. The rain was falling hard outside, as if echoing Neuvillette's malaise, reduced to a huddled, shabby-looking form. In front of him, crumpled and sometimes torn leaves were spread out. A malevolent reminder, circling him like a vulture in front of a carcass.

Another day's work over. Again.

A day worthy of hell. A day of incessant mockery, disgusted glances, sickening insults. Why so much hate? Why be so angry with him? He hadn't done them any harm… Or had he… Maybe once he'd made them suffer…

When the truth had hit their discomfited faces, a truth that disgusted many. This way of being, this attraction, perhaps too different from the others, had upset his way of working. Neuvillette couldn't take it anymore. A tear rolled down his pale cheek, and a bolt of lightning tore the sky in response. In a rush, almost madness, he lunged for his table, his only escape. He grabbed his violin, wedged it under his chin and, without waiting any longer, began to play his heart out. He poured streams of emotion onto those strings.

Surely he'll be receiving complaints the next day.

Surely someone will be banging on the walls, yelling at him to stop. But for once, he wanted to let go. No matter the insults, no matter what will happen tomorrow.

Tonight, he was letting himself go.

Only much later did his instrument stop emitting melancholy wails. When the storm outside stopped roaring, and the rain had finished flooding the streets and accumulating his sorrows. He had no strength left. His energy had been drained, by this rain, by the sounds of his violin, now resting in its place.

He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling of his room, his ears still ringing with the shrill melodies of his instrument. And so, his face framed by his tangled white locks, his cheeks still red from crying, his eyes itching uncomfortably, he fell asleep, praying for a better day.

The next day was no exception to the rule: he woke abruptly, torn from the comforting world of dreams by a violent pounding on his door.

When he opened the door, his face half asleep, his hair a mess, his elegant figure cowering like a defenseless animal, his imposing form looking shabby.

He had a moment of total incomprehension, why hit his door with such force?

Oh…

His violin…

"Would it be possible not to have to endure your music for a week?"

Of course… He must have expected it.

Neuvillette looked at him neutrally. The face of his apartment neighbor came to him like a blurred face, with distorted contours. His constricted throat refused to let out the slightest sound.

Yet he had to apologize. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"If this keeps up, I'll have to report you. You're annoying everyone with your racket."

His gray, storm-sky gaze darkened. Was he going to be homeless too? That was condemning him to a slow death without comfort.

As he forced himself, his throat tugging at him to try to get out just simple words, a door opened beside them, accompanied by a disgruntled growl.

"What's all that noise?"

An imposing man with tousled hair stepped out of his apartment, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. His sharp eyes glared at the man with the deafening complaints.

"Isn't there any way we can have a quiet morning? I don't need anyone yelling, people yell enough at my work."

His gaze turned to Neuvillette, who was watching him with a worried expression. He too was about to get angry with him. They'd both gang up on him. It was all over.

Yet his neighbor's icy blue eyes only stared at him for a brief moment. A gleam seemed to ignite them for a moment.

What was he waiting for to get angry too?

Did he want him to feel guilty too?

Yet, contrary to what they'd all hoped, for once, Neuvillette didn't blame himself. He wasn't sorry.

So he maintained the contact between them, without flinching, even though his eyes betrayed his mental weakness.

Suddenly, the man with the jet-black mane let out a simple puff of his nose, which for once didn't sound like mockery.

"Nice music last night. Personal composition?"

The man with the long white hair blinked. He'd imagined every conceivable scenario, but what about this one?

He hadn't expected it at all.

"T…Thanks…?"

His voice came to him like a squeak, as if he were regaining the use of speech after years without speaking.

When he looked more than a little surprised, the man next to him could only smile in amusement. His gaze went cold, however, as he turned his head towards the other man, who remained frozen.

"To what do I owe the honor of these unpleasant cries on a Saturday morning?"

The man said nothing, stammering inaudible words.

"No longer able to say anything?

He sighed, crossing his arms.

-Let the poor guy decompress from his days, he's got a right to have passions, hasn't he?

-Y-Yes, but…

-You're the only one it bothers. I don't get the impression you really thought about our sleeping hours when you had the music cranked up on your speakers."

Surely out of arguments, the man turned away from his two neighbors, and left, uttering a string of expletives. The man with the icy eyes sighed, resting one shoulder against the wall.

"We shouldn't hear too much more about it in a while.

-Thank you...

-That's a lot of thanks for me," the man pointed out, smirking.

Neuvillette froze slightly. It was true that it had been a long time since he had thanked anyone else.

"You'd better believe I'm in a good mood…" surmised the white man.

-Even after being woken up by such an energetic fellow?" the other pointed out, frowning.

-I guess so… Sorry to have woken you up."

The man chuckled.

Neuvillette suddenly felt nostalgic. It was the first time in a long time that a man had laughed with him and not at him. He'd missed that feeling.

"I was already awake a long time ago, unlike you."

The white man blinked in surprise. The dark-haired man straightened up, his eternal smile pasted to his thin lips.

"On that note…

He turned around.

-I hope to hear you play the violin again soon."

And so he left, waving politely. Unconsciously, Neuvillette followed him with his eyes, attracted by that rebellious hair and soothing aura, which had made his troubles disappear, leaving him in a torrent of nostalgia and well-being - a sensation he'd really missed.

He smiled. Sincerely. Before gently closing the door of his apartment, he headed for his bedroom, glancing at his violin, before cleaning himself up and dressing comfortably for the weekend.

As he dried his hair, enjoying the gentle rubbing of the soft bath towel, he was startled by the unusual sound of his doorbell.

His gray eyes narrowed in concern. Usually, disgruntled neighbors didn't bother to use it, preferring to pound on the door with their fists, even if it meant threatening to damage it.

So he was surprised to hear this high-pitched but gentle sound, instead of the usual deafening crash.

He hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Eventually, Neuvillette opened his door, softly, with distrust.

He was astonished, once he'd opened the door wide, to not notice anyone. His foot stumbled over something, and the sound of a bag being crumpled reached him.

He looked down, only to see a white plastic bag and a can of cold tea, where a post-it note had been stuck.

He picked up the package, absently, and picked up the paper on which someone had jotted down a few words in hasty handwriting.

"Every storm needs a clearing. Wriothesley."

Neuvillette remained standing, the can of cold tea in his hand, ignoring the drops wetting his hand, and the cold metal beginning to spread in his palm.

His mind had understood who had dropped off this intriguing gift, and this little message which, to the man with the violin, appeared as words of encouragement.

He returned to his house, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and wrote a message of his own.

He went outside, delighted with his message, and stuck it on his ebony-haired neighbor's ringtone, his smile never leaving his lips.

"Thank you. Neuvillette."

A single thought occurred to him as he closed the door of his apartment, his heart light and his soul relaxed.

Decidedly, that was a lot of thanks for one man.

*** Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version) *** (because I'm not qualified enough to write an entire POV by myself X) Sorry if there are mistakes :')) Just a question, am I the only one who is absolutely obsessed with this ship ? ;-; Have a nice day and thank you for reading this ! ^^

#Wriolette #Wriothesley #Neuvillette #Wriothesley x Neuvillette #Modern Au #fanfiction #POV #Genshin Impact

22 notes · View notes

pavo-ocxllus · 1 year

Text

« rewind. / pause. / fast forward. »

it hadn't exactly been your ideal first day so far.

of course, this was to be expected. an ideal first day takes planning; complete control. understandably, nobody has that.

though, you didn't think things would get off the rails so quickly.

it all started in a car. the pop music that for some absurd reason—still running on the radio—was loud enough to fill the vehicle and even be heard outside. and as if your embarrassment wasn't enough, HEIZOU was singing along, with cbc his voice loud enough to rise above the music. it was obvious he didn't know all the lyrics, based on the amount of times he paused or sang some incomprehensible jumble of words.

you, on the other hand, we're focusing on what to know before the two of you started to interrogate ITTO. there wasn't such thing as being too prepared before your first case went to court, after all! unfortunately, the young, maroon-haired man in the driver's seat was making everything more difficult for you.

"can you turn that down?!" you attempted to yell over the music. luckily, the attorney managed to hear you.

"not a chance!"

not so luckily, your demands were yet to be fulfilled.

you couldn't do anything but sigh, seeing as heizou was technically your superior—but with the way he was acting, it was as if he had just as much experience as you!

a part of you was itching to persist in your request, but another wants to just push through it and focus on getting the case's information down. you can't really waste anymore time on this matter—it'll leave less time for you to know what you're doing.

opening your phone, you started to look for the case files that you took hastily took pictures of before you rushed out after your co-worker out the door. granted, they weren't 4k level quality of photos, but it was still enough for you to read it.

arataki itto... though you didn't know him for very long, this seemed like a 'wrong place, wrong timing' situation. besides disturbing the peace and vandalism (that washed off with ease), most of his crimes were traffic violations.

you sighed to yourself, glancing briefly at the view outside from the passenger's seat and back at your phone. you can't believe how much you can screw up when you were never even involved.

"got something on your mind?" heizou's sudden question brought you back to reality.

"it's kind of hard to have something there with that god-awful song," you quipped. you decided to leave out his debatable singing voice.

"haha, very funny," it was then you realized the two of you weren't in the open freeway and in a forest, strangely enough. "you'll not be stuck with this voice any longer... you'll have a different set of pipes to take over."

just great.

you noticed that the radio station had been turned down. the music was replaced with the gentle rustling of leaves against the tires. the two of you were now considerably deeper in the forest—was it just you, or did it get darker all of a sudden??

"are you sure this is the place?"

"the arataki gang has a secret hideout?" you inquired, attempting to stifle a small giggle as you and heizou were boarding his car.

"of course! what's a gang without their secret hideout?" he smugly responded, as if it was obvious fact.

that should've been your first warning.

"it says so on the map," as he replied, you realized that there was a gps pulled up in his phone in the cupholder. with the way he was driving everywhere, you would've thought that he was just going to random places hoping that he would run into the "hideout" on chance.

"did shinobu say i was an attorney?" heizou suddenly asked out of the blue.

"yeah...?"

"well, don't listen to her," you weren't sure why he was confirming your suspicions, but you let him continue. "i'm... a detective."

you looked at him blankly.

"you see, a normal attorney probably wouldn't venture out into the forest alone, with the thick foliage obstructing the sunlight from the ground below..."

you gulp, suddenly hearing his breathing in your ear. "...but a detective might."

"AHHASGAHASBVABA!" a sudden noise erupted from the quietness of it all, a figure leaping on to the hood of the car that looks strangely familiar, with the white hair and red make-up.

your first reaction?

↳ panic.

↳ remain unfazed.

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫? 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞! <𝟑

#𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞.!#𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠: [𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲! 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭...!].!

11 notes · View notes

helenapsent · 2 years

Text

"Justin and the Knights of Valour" as Kuplinov quotes P. 2

- what are you climbing into stay home

- if there's a crumb somewhere it means there's a mother somewhere

- anything that's badly laid we'll take it all away

- what is your least favorite subject in school besides janitor

- why are you so fucking long

- how bad beats you're such a bad beater

- fuck can you stop using such incomprehensible words, i don't understand what you're doing, insulting each other or declaring your love for each other

- professional degradation

- and these ones don't really care, if I fuck them all up today

- you should have less doubt that i'm saying the right not "less money"

- i have such a good haircut today i don't know why i combed my hair so well today

- if something doesn't work - shake

- there's someone out there whining again

- perhaps there is a purpose to it, but the question is what and for why

- i feed pelicans fuck off

- he's just the opposite of adequate elections

- stop ducking what did I pump it for to make you dodge

- i don't trust him, first of all he has a scratch, and second he's a cunt

- i'm not going to kill anyone i know he's a crooked hand

- you already ate enough of your dicks last time so let's make normal

- if you don't want to, i'll go somewhere, i'll get somewhere anyway

- i if anything blast at everyone

- you shouldn't be expected to do much your only goal is probably to drive me to some boss who's level 158 and you just want me to get kicked in the ass

- NO WE DIDN'T HIT ANYONE

- let's yell some more of course, come on, let's all yell together, let's yell as a bunch, what else can we do

- dylan and salim in the same chariot

- i won't survive there one hundred percent

- then they'll get married and he'll be making out with everybody. well, okay.

- fellow vacationers get your snouts ready and go wash them

- and the musc started. beautiful.

#justin and the knights of valour #screenshots #memes

2 notes · View notes

fraink5-writes · 9 months

Text

In the Names of Freedom - Chapter 17

Hey, everyone, this chapter is a bit early because, unfortunately, I won't be able to post tomorrow or next Sunday (sorry in advance!).

Thanks to @leio13 who dedicatedly edited this chapter through her incomprehensible screaming.

Summary: After confirming the death of his latest target, Xiao’s secret mission is interrupted by an eccentric stranger in green, who claims to be Xiao’s protector! But the reality is much more convoluted… What destiny could possibly link Xiao with Venti—an assassin of hitmen?

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Venti left the scene with great haste. To think he would run into the famed lead detective of the Adepti Agency, Morax, a second time… He hadn't changed at all since their last meeting. Venti could still remember that day at the hospital in Wolvendom twelve years ago as clear as day…

He had been beaten within an inch of his life, but somehow he had won. At least, he thought he did. But he had collapsed shortly after, and then, to his surprise, he woke up in a hospital bed a few days later. He was only a teen then. A teen with absolutely nothing. And yet many people had come to ask him questions—"What happened at Decarabian's Tower?" "Who killed Decarabian?" He had ignored them all.

Until an unusual man paid the room a visit. Although his posture and step carried an undeniable authority, when he spoke, his face and voice were surprisingly disarming. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I am Morax."

The boy's plan was, of course, to ignore the stranger just as he had done with the rest. "..."

"What is your name?"

"..." A foolish question. Even if he played along and made one up, it would mean nothing.

"I'm sure you've met many people over the past few days trying to ask you about Decarabian's Lair, but I'm not interested in that. I want to talk about you for a bit."

Yeah right. Morax may have worn a dignified facade, but he was no different from the other detectives. Besides, there was nothing to be said about the boy anyway.

"See?" The nurse chimed in. "He refuses to say anything to anyone—not even the doctors who saved his ungrateful life! All he will say is 'Where's Venti?' We've looked, but there is no 'Venti.' He's useless. I'm sure you won't find what you're looking for with him."

Morax exhaled. "Would you mind letting the two of us talk alone?"

"Suit yourself." The nurse walked out of the room.

So Morax was one of the persistent types. What would it be? Yelling? Threatening? Grabbing? Hitting? It didn't matter.

"That was an inexcusable thing to say about a patient—especially in front of him."

He didn't care. They were probably right that he was useless, anyway.

"Well, since we're alone, I will get serious. What I want to speak with you about today is…"

Here it comes, the inevitable interrogation about Decarabian…

Morax reached into his pocket and pulled out a square photograph. "Do you know this boy?" The boy in the photo had black hair in two short pigtails and eyes as blue as an autumn day.

The hospitalized boy's breath got stuck in his throat, and his eyes went wide.

"Is this 'Venti?'" Morax asked.

"What happened to him?!"

"I was hoping you would tell me."

He wanted to pounce and scream "TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!" but his body crumpled in agony when he so much as sat up.

"Try to remain calm; you'll only end up hurting yourself otherwise," Moraxed coaxed him. "I'll tell you what I know after you tell me what you know about him."

The boy growled, but he relented. Morax was the only person who took his search for Venti seriously, and he needed whatever information he could get. "We… Me, him, and an unfamiliar boy… we were running away…"

"Running away?"

"Yeah… from Decarabian's Lair. Everyone was panicking and fighting all around the city, so we decided to use the chance to run away."

"Where were you running to?"

"I don't know. Neither of us had left before—we weren't allowed."

Morax jotted something down on his notepad. "Okay, so then what happened after you ran away?"

"The other boy… He was injured and delirious. But Venti was insistent that we bring him with us. So I stayed behind to buy them some time…"

"I understand. So you don't know what happened after that?"

"No… Tell me already—what happened?!"

"I'm very sorry to inform you that Venti is dead. By the time I found his body, he had already passed. He had been stabbed twice and fatally shot in the chest."

Dead? Venti was… dead? The giant beautiful world that Venti had sung songs about just a week ago suddenly collapsed. The song that was supposed to illuminate the blue sky and nurture the living creatures of the planet fell from the heavens. "Arghhhhhhh!" The boy's whole body screamed and writhed.

Morax watched silently. There was no consolation he could give. When a nurse knocked on the door, he sent them away.

A tear broke through the boy's eyelids and tumbled listlessly down his face. Then others followed in a silent funeral procession towards the bleak, white sheets. "So what happens now?" The question was just as much about himself as it was about Venti.

"The boy's body is being sent back to Decarabian's Lair where it will be buried in an unmarked grave alongside the other victims of the tragedy."

So that was it? Venti's body was going to be thrown into an unmarked ditch and forgotten like he never existed? "Why…? He had a name… He almost made it out too…!" It was too unfair.

"I'm sorry. It seems like Mondstadt's government wants to quickly put this incident behind them. The sudden, implosive collapse of one of their biggest cities—even if it was an overgrown drug den—can't be a good look for them."

He wanted to scream. The outside world was no different than Decarabian's City. Venti's dream had always been an impossible fantasy. He had died for nothing.

"But there still is some hope." Morax suddenly smiled. "You're still alive."

What did it matter? He was nobody. For Venti, he had wanted to be someone, but he had failed.

"If Venti is important to you, you must remember him; you're the only one who can." That was the last piece of advice Morax gave before irreversibly exiting the nameless boy's hospital room forever.

It was only many years later, when his own journey led him to Stone Gate, that he would learn that the other boy had also survived, that Morax had found him too, and that he now went by the name Xiao.

Venti was an entirely different person since he had last met Morax, and while he wished that was enough to prevent Morax from recognizing him, he knew better than to get his hopes up. If anything, he was grateful that the detective went along with his lies.

But he had no idea what Morax would reveal in private. Venti himself had no idea what he wanted Xiao to know, and the thought of Morax taking that choice from him petrified him. Of course, it was all unfair. Xiao had the right to know. Which is why during lunch he had nearly worked up the courage to tell him about the other case—about the other Venti. But after Xiao had told him no and especially after Morax appeared, Venti's resolve was crumbling. After all, what good would this information do Xiao? What could it do besides saddle on another painful memory? Venti wanted to save Xiao; he wanted him to be happy. And for that, perhaps it was better if he never remembered.

All these reminders of the past made Venti crave a drink. Xiao had been very stern with his directions before Venti had left, but Venti was an adult who could make his own decisions. Financially, Xiao still had the upper hand; he had left Venti with no money, but this was Stone Gate—with a little stealth, Venti was sure he could get his hands on something.

Before he knew it, Venti had arrived in the neighborhood of the hotel. It would actually be more convenient to find a supply near the hotel, so he quickly took a seat on the low roof of a nearby building. From here he could watch the entrance of the hotel (lest Xiao arrive unnoticed) and the surrounding areas. And strangely enough, someone caught his eye almost immediately; a familiar woman had exited the hotel. With straight, dark hair in a ponytail, she was wearing purple Liyue garb and round, golden spectacles—oh, Venti had seen her at the restaurant. She had her phone against her ear and a scowl on her lips.

"I could easily find the lyre on my own…"

…

"I just don't understand why we had to come all this way…"

…

"With the right budget, I could have resolved this search without having to leave Liyue Harbor!"

Having leapt from his perch, Venti tapped the woman's shoulder. "Excuse me."

"Uh, hold on," she muttered into the phone before turning to Venti. "Um, hi?"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but are you looking for a lyre?"

"Something came up. I'll talk to you later. Bye" She hung up the phone with great eagerness before beaming at Venti. "Yes, I am! Do you know something?"

"Unfortunately not, but I'm also looking for a lyre myself!"

"Oh, really? Then, why don't we look together?"

"That would be wonderful!" Venti readily agreed. "I have no clues as to where my lyre might be, so you lead the way."

"O-oh, okay." The woman started walking south east.

"You know, since we're so close to Mondstadt," Venti began. "You could probably buy another one here in Stone Gate?"

"You're probably right, but the one I lost is important to me. I actually bought it on a recent trip to Mondstadt, so I'd really like to find it again."

"Oh, I completely understand! A musical instrument carries the heart and memories of its owner."

"Exactly. That's why I'm here again in Stone Gate to see if I can find it… What about you? Are you here to look for your lyre?"

"I wish. I'm not even sure it's in Stone Gate. It's an old model, so I'm terrified just thinking of what might be happening while I'm not there." Venti shuddered. "I'm actually here because my partner dragged me along."

"...Partner?"

"Yeah, he said, 'I'd love to go to Stone Gate since we both have so much history there', and now here we are on this impromptu getaway."

"Wow, sounds very romantic…"

"Oh, you wouldn't think that if you'd met him."

"Why not? What kind of person is he?"

"He's very scary. He's a man of few words, and he's so tough! Oh, but he's actually a sweetheart! You know, I'm just a little bard, but I know I can count on him to save me in a pinch!"

"O-oh…"

"You know, Stone Gate has something of a bad reputation, but I'm sure my partner could beat up any lame criminal this town throws at me! He's my hero!"

"Oh, w-wow…" The woman was staring with her eyes wide and jaw slightly agape.

"Ah! Sorry for saying such things! I'm just not used to traveling by my lonesome, so I'm a little worried…"

"I-it's okay. I understand! So, um… where is this partner of yours if not with you?"

"Oh, well… He ran into an unexpected family problem, so he'll be busy with that for a while… So don't worry! There's no chance of him interrupting our search! He doesn't even know I'm out!"

In that matter, Venti and the lady from the restaurant continued chatting (mainly about music) as they wandered south, casually searching for a lyre. As far as music went, Venti noted she was an amateur at best, but as an expert, he could not turn away the opportunity to teach her a lesson. When they reached the waterfront, the conservation came to a stop.

"Oh wow, we made it all the way to the port, didn't we?" Venti remarked.

"It looks like it. And we still haven't found the lyre…"

"What a shame…"

"Oh, but we might be able to learn something helpful here!"

"Really?"

"Some of my friends keep a boat here; perhaps they found some leads."

"Then let's go talk to them! I'd love to meet them!"

Venti let the brunette lead the way as he trailed slightly behind her. Meeting her friends would probably take a long time. Venti would have to apologize to Xiao when they met again. As they slowed, he reached into his back pocket and unlocked his phone. He had laid out every phone he had ever owned in the exact same way just for moments like this one. Without looking, he guided his fingers to his messages (luckily there was only one) and quickly sent off his coordinates to his only contact: Xiao. Then he shut his phone off and turned all his attention back to the ship they had stopped in front. It was a small vessel, but anyone in Liyue would know to fear its carmine sails. Venti's legs nearly failed. He knew he and Xiao were being followed, but he never thought their pursuant would be the most feared pirate group in Teyvat and Ningguang’s shadow—the Crux Fleet.

Two strong hands grabbed Venti's arms and twisted them. When Venti's knees buckled, the mysterious person put him in cuffs. "That was surprisingly easy," said a male voice from behind him. "Are you sure this is our guy?"

The restaurant lady nodded. "Sorry, my bard friend. Looks like we were both here in Stone Gate for other reasons."

#Genshin Impact #Xiaoven #Venti #Xiao #Zhongli

0 notes

casspurrjoybell-18 · 1 year

Text

Mutual Desire - Chapter 2

*Warning - Adult Content*

‘Thanks,’ Damien Clark responded with a faint smile to the beautiful blonde.

Though he was used to women flirting with him, he nevertheless didn't know how to react comfortably in this type of situation.

The handsome professor did know that normally, a man would have returned the compliment but Damien seemed to think he wasn't enterally normal after all.

‘When the club closes, do you want to maybe take me home and we can get to know each other a little bit more?’ the blonde asked with a slight chuckle, her voice high enough for Damien to hear.

Damien knew that any hetero guy would not have let this blonde woman, whose name he still didn't know, finish her sentence.

He would have already ditched the club and was taking her home but Damien was no longer straight or maybe he never really had been.

He was bi and was in a long-term relationship.

The perfect blend to refuse a sexual advance from a woman.

But he was caught off guard by her sudden invitation and felt trapped.

Damien had a plan to get out of unwanted flirting situation.

Said plan was simple.

Use the excuse that every single women uses when a man they don't find to their taste tries to seduce them.

The only problem with this is that Damien had no idea what that excuse was.

And why would he?

He wasn't a woman and he never openly flirted with one.

This situation was turning into a mathematical equation, which was a good for him since he was a math professor.

Even so, he barely managed to get out some understandable words.

‘Uh... I...’ he tried to say.

The handsome stutter's phone rang in the middle of this embarrassing moment.

The blonde woman had distracted Damien with her very up-front approach that he had almost missed the vibration of his phone in the pocket of his black jeans.

The call was the perfect excuse that he needed to save himself.

Damien apologized to the blonde beauty, whose name remain still a mystery and got up from his seat almost running out of the club.

He arrived outside, the phone in his ear, while Nick, at the end of the line, screamed loudly, trying in vain to win against the music in the background.

Fresh air and the wind greeted Damien graciously.

He had almost forgotten what wind felt like.

In the club, the heat was ubiquitous, that he was surprised to find he wasn't sweating even a little, which prove to him that the extreme heat he was feeling seconds ago was only in his head.

Nick's loud voice at the end of the phone didn't prevent Damien from enjoying the fresh air that ran all over his body.

Nick shouted Damien's name on the phone, while voicing words that were incomprehensible to Damien due to the loud music.

Damien missed a piece of what his friend was saying at the end of the line.

‘Nick, stop yelling.’

Damien ironically shouted while remaining call.

‘You don't understand, Clarke. My software's presentation is fucking Monday. I only have a day to find something to show to my bosses and impress them, so they can finance me. I might lose my job, man.’

Damien rolled his eyes slightly.

Nick had the gift of dramatizing things.

‘You're overreacting. Besides, what does all this have to do with me, Nick?’

‘Come on,’ Nicholas said pleadingly.

‘How many times have I asked you to help me with this crap that is ruining my life, not to mention my Saturday nights? Okay, I get that you were working but you're on vacation now. I really need your help, Dam. You always had all the knowing of computers running through your blood, much more than me. I really need ya, bro.’

‘What I need is someone to suck my dick. Is it happening right now? No. So, I guess we can't always have what we want. Can we Nicky?’

Of course, Damien didn't say that.

He just shut his mouth, took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

He was at a dead end.

Nick was Damien Clark’s closest friend.

In high school, the pair was almost glued to each other, never see one without the other.

Their common passion for computers and technology, in general, had only reinforced the bond they had.

The two nerdy men had similar dreams, create software worthy of Microsoft or big names of the sort.

Nick went all the way through with it by working hard, hard enough that at the beginning of the year, he got offered a position at one of the most prestigious companies in the world according to Nick that works with major industry which specializes in software and other technology components.

Damien had never heard of this company before but when Nick bough his condo and his black Audi in the space of a couple of months, Damien knew his best friend had won the jackpot in the workplace department.

Many would have had regrets and even feel a sense of jealousy seeing their friend who was able to succeed by working hard and having had the patience but that wasn't Damien's case.

Sure, Damien did from time to time imagine what his life would be like had he had pursued a career in the technology world but it never went further than that.

Besides, Damien had a Plan B in case all his dreams of greatness in the world of technology proved impossible and it was to be a math teacher in college, since he excelled in the subject.

He didn't envy his best friend and was immensely proud of him.

Frankly there wasn't much that Damien needed to envy from Nick, since he earned a respectable salary as a university teacher and with no wife and kids, he only had a mouth to feed.

Damien's life was as good as it is and he would be the first to know he'd be the most ungrateful human if he dared complaining about his more than comfortable life.

On the phone, Nick continued to beg his best friend for help in developing of a new antivirus software he's been working on for a while and that doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

Damien couldn't figure out why Nick seemed to see him as the hero who will rescue him and make his software development, the technological creation of the century.

Damien was what one would call a computer genius but it’s been a long time since he put his knowledge into the creation of something.

He really didn't see how he was going to be of a convincing help but even so, he didn't want to let Nick down who looked desperate on the phone.

He was still his best friend after all.

‘Alright,’ Damien finally said, after brushing his hand through his hair as black as his jeans. ‘I'll see what I can do.’

Damien felt he would be regretting this.

His instinct was advising him not to show up to Nick's.

And his instinct was ninety percent of the time right on.

Damien didn't know why he was feeling like this since he couldn't seem to point out what could possibly go wrong.

He was just going to hand a little bit of a hand to his long-time best friend.

Not like they were going to rob a bank or something.

Nonetheless, Damien's instinct remained on its decision.

The shots from inside the night club were having their effect.

Damien thought he was getting paranoid.

The sudden heat earlier and now this.

Damien dearly hoped it was nothing but that.

Paranoia only.

‘Damien, I love you man. Come to my place later and I'll show you everything. I know this is last minute but I know we can get together and add some things to Anter-X.’

‘Okay, I'll come around ten-ish. Is that okay?’

‘Yes, sounds good. Thanks man.’

Damien hung up, while escaping a long sigh.

He then lit a cigarette, hesitating to get back inside the club.

If he makes such a gesture, he will have to face the blonde.

Damien was in no mood to act like an asshole and reject someone who would them have to spend the whole night seeing her lucky friends enjoying themselves, thinking something was wrong with her, which was far from being the case.

Damien knew the blonde would take it personally.

Besides, fatigue was about to take hold of him.

It was for their own good if Damien didn't go back inside.

He decided, after crushing his cigarette to go home.

He sent a text message to the guys in their group chat letting them know of his sudden tiredness and his decision to go straight home.

He took his car, driving as slowly as possible so as not to capture the attention of the cops since he had a few shots drinking and felt more or less tipsy.

After a twenty-minute of drive Damien arrived at his apartment and went straight to bed.

That night, Damien did not share his boyfriend’s bed.

As a head nurse, Craig was doing a night shift at the hospital.

The two men do not live together, each having their own apartment but they behave as if they're sharing a roof because every so often they sleep at each other's place and often Damien doesn't go to his place for weeks.

Damien never discussed the possibility to move in with Craig because he doesn't see the point in rushing things.

And the fact that they have never discussed about an eventuality of them moving together only proves to Damien that it isn't a priority for their couple.

As he was about to close his eyes, Damien received a text from Dmitri informing him that he had given Sara his phone number.

Damien concluded that this Sara was the blonde from the night club.

He sighed and decided to pretend as if he had not received this text so as not to disturb his sleep that was coming slowly.

Damien found himself thinking about Nick and his software and how he was going to help his poor friend in his exaggerated distress.

Unknowingly, agreeing to help Nick with his software would completely disrupt Damien's life.

He fell into a sleep without dreams, not realizing his life would soon turn upside down.

1 note · View note

goingmorry · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can you please write about Ace, Zoro and Law reacting to their crush holding back some tears for being called ugly or not attractive enough by some strangers while trying to show off some clothes in which they felt cute? Gender neutral is okay, I need some comfort ngl, thank you so much for your time.

[ONE PIECE HEADCANONS] OP Boys -> when strangers body shame you in front of them

Characters: Ace, Zoro, Law

Tags: body shame, hurt/comfort, basically reader gets body-shamed by strangers, OP boys are there to comfort and protect you, body horror for Law's part since he Shambles people away

Author's Note: Hello Anon, thank you for the suggestion! I hope you like it! 💖

PORTGAS D. ACE

Immediately notices the cute clothes you're wearing and sincerely compliments you.

Ready to throw some hands (ง •̀_•́)ง the moment someone spoils the mood for calling you ugly.

All up in the other person's face — fire fists clenched on their collar and fierce eyes glaring at the disrespectful stranger, ready to pounce like a predator hunting its prey.

Demands — no, threatens — the other person to apologize.

You have to pry Ace's fingers off to stop him from assaulting the stranger physically.

"Fucking ugly," the stranger hisses, eyeing your body in disgust, "Who said you could wear those clothes, huh?"

Your heartbeat quickens, palms beginning to drench in sweat from anxiety. Feeling ashamed, you lower your eyes — the familiar stinging sensation of tears obscuring your vision — and fidget with your shirt to hide how visibly upset you are.

Ace is quick to react, snarling aggressively as his fingers clench fists against the stranger's collar. "Take that back right now."

You take a step forward, trembling fingers gripping his tense arm in reassurance. "Ace, please. It's not worth it."

"It's not right," Ace says definitively, brown eyes widening in concern at your teary expression. "He needs to apologize for what he said."

Not expecting a physical confrontation, the stranger splutters a string of insincere apologies, no doubt spoken in an attempt to appease the fiery pirate.

Furiously shaking the man in displeasure, Ace lifts the man higher from the ground with little effort. "It's not good enough."

With his body suspended in midair, the stranger begins to panic, bony fingers clutching against Ace's firm grip out of instinct.

You tug at Ace's muscled arm, the tips of your fingernails lightly digging into his bare skin in urgency. "Let's just go, please."

Ace turns to you and pauses, heart clenching at the plea in your voice. He looks at you — really looks at you — at the soft breeze tousling your hair and the form-fitting clothes accentuating every beautiful curve of your body. But your eyes. Your eyes, usually so full of laughter, were downcast, disheartened by the stranger's cruel words.

Ace grabs your hand in a comforting hold and leads you farther and farther away from the source of your distress.

"You look lovely, you know. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

RORONOA ZORO

Doesn't pay much attention to what you're wearing.

Thinks you look beautiful regardless of your current appearance but doesn't voice this sentiment.

Regardless, he's alert as soon as people from the rooftops start to shout at you from a distance.

At first, the shouting is incomprehensible. But when you get closer, the strangers' yells promptly switch from unwanted catcalls to taunts and insults.

Moves closer to you and adopts a defensive stance.

Intimidation factor = 1000 %

When you and Zoro get within earshot, the man atop the rooftop yells, "Damn, thought you were smokin' hot at first. Didn't realize your face was fucking ugly!"

You freeze in your tracks at the man's insult, head ducking in embarrassment when you realize the abrasive comment was meant for you.

The rest of his posse laughs and mockingly points at you. A female voice rings loudly from the onslaught, her sharp nail pointing at the green-haired swordsman beside you. "Hey, handsome! What are you doing with that rat face?"

Without a word, Zoro glares at the woman, causing her to flinch at his cold indifference. Unperturbed by his lack of interest in her, the woman on the rooftop leans closer to the edge of the railing and shrieks at you, "Don't ever show your face in public ever again!"

Zoro's hand reaches over the hilt of his katana. Before you can stop him, the sharp steel of his blade swings forward in a diagonal line aimed directly at the building in front of you.

"Enma!"

You startle at Zoro's command, doe eyes watching the building before you as it begins to collapse sideways.

When they start to lose their footing, the group of strangers on the rooftop of the sliced building begin to panic.

"Wh-what the hell's going on?"

"Oh god, honey! Save me, please!"

"The building's collapsing! What the fuck happened?"

"An earthquake?"

"We need to go! NOW!"

Mouth opening and closing in bewilderment, you become too speechless to say anything. When you look at Zoro again, his sword is back in its sheathe. Face impassive, he nudges at your side and walks ahead to spur you into action.

"Pay them no mind. You look fine."

TRAFALGAR LAW

Notes that you're dressed rather adorably.

Wants to give you a brief compliment but doesn't quite know how to without sounding like a creep.

Ponders on how he should compliment you until it becomes too late to say something. Ends up not saying anything.

Inwardly frustrated at himself for overthinking things.

Grits his teeth and snarls at the group of people who insult you.

Though he doesn't expect you to be perturbed by the rude comments since they're such a blatant lie, he becomes enraged on your behalf.

Gets caught off guard when he notices the tears brimming in your eyes.

Cue Shambles, and body parts start to fly everywhere.

The strangers start to beg for their lives and apologize, but Law is having none of it.

"You look disgusting," the stranger says while another stranger declares, "Those clothes would look better on a dog than on you."

You can't help the tears that form in the corner of your eyes. Frustrated at your inability to stay calm, you roughly rub the back of your eyes with the back of your hands to hide your increasingly emotional state.

Law slaps something down onto your lowered head. Feeling the pleasant weight nestled comfortably on your head, you reach up toward the foreign object to closely examine it.

His spotted hat greets you in all its fuzzy glory.

Rarely ever out in public without his trademark cap, he's a sight to behold. Spiky black hair standing in opposing directions, he attempts to compose his appearance by flattening the top of his hair to no avail. Understanding the futility of his actions, he quickly gives up and focuses his attention back on the group of strangers.

"Room."

You've heard him utter those words far too many times, followed by the next word serving as the final nail in their coffins, completely sealing their fates.

"Shambles."

What was once living humans was now reduced to a pile of flesh, their body parts floating in midair.

The look of horror in the strangers' faces as they scramble to put together their original bodies will forever haunt you. Although, there was some twisted part in you that appreciated Law's gesture.

"Will they be okay?" you ask, peering over his shoulder to see one of the stranger's severed torso hopping around in place, no doubt searching for its other parts.

"Leave them," he says nonchalantly, "They're not injured. It'll give them some time to reflect on their actions."

Stopping yourself from defending your abusers, you bite your lip at his response, falling into step beside him.

"You look nice," he says, pausing momentarily before continuing, "Wear those clothes again."

Law thinks that you're especially a sight for sore eyes — wearing his hat — but he doesn't say this.

#one piece #portgas d. ace x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #one piece scenarios #one piece writing #one piece x reader #one piece x you #mywriting

789 notes · View notes

natashxromanovf · 2 years

Note

Hey, could I request something for the writing hours with steve rogers? 😊

The reader is in their room and just had an argument with their former best friend, who told things about them which aren't true. The reader is sad, steve noticed it and hears the reader cry. He tries to comfort the reader. After that, they are cuddling and confessing their feelings to each other. With the Dialogue 5. "Rough day? Can I make it better?" and kisses 9. first kisses, please? Thank you 😊. I hope it's okay like that.

(Just if you want to write it 🙈)

Attagirl

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word count: 998

Warnings: crying, swearing

A/N: thank you for this request jacky! hope you like the fic <33 i might have slightly changed the dialogue but it’s still the same context :)

You didn’t mean to yell so damn loud. She just got on your nerves - the person you thought would never leave you just did. Maybe not physically but mentally, she’s dead to you. God, you should have seen how toxic she is from the start! How she’s the origin of all the rumours going around, how she’s always talking behind people’s back. You just never thought she would do that to you but of course she would. Apparently, it doesn’t matter who you are or how close to her you are, she would still stab you in the back, talk shit about you and spread false rumours around, just so she could get that one boy.

“You know what, fuck off. Enjoy your night, hope he was worth it. But when he leaves don’t come crying because guess what? You’re just a number to him, sweetheart, stop living in some imaginary world,” you finish as you hang up, tears already falling out of your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks. All you wish to do is scream out of pure frustration because how the hell can a person do so much damage in a week. And the worst part is, she was your best friend. Well, you at least considered her one.

Steve heard you screaming down to the kitchen. To be honest he never heard you shout at someone before - you’re usually a pretty chill person. But this sounded personal, like you were angry but hurt at the same time. And he couldn’t bear the thought of you being sad. So he started walking up to your room but when he reached it, you were already sobbing, all the previous anger disappeared into thin air, hurt taking over your body.

Softly knocking on your door he comes in, surprising you. You quickly try to wipe your stained cheeks even though you know it’s too late. You smile through the sadness, trying to appear as chill as you could possibly be.

“Don’t do that, darling, you know I already heard it,” he slightly smiles, one of his signature comforting ones. Your face drops in a matter of seconds, letting the sadness take over your face. You know he won’t laugh or simply dismiss your feelings, he’s too good to do something like that - it’s one of his best traits. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a stupid fight,” you mutter, almost incomprehensible. He sits down beside you, close enough so that your knees are touching.

“Well, by the looks of it, I don’t think it was a stupid fight,” he slowly says, looking at you. “C’mon, tell me what’s going on, you’ll feel better afterwards,”

You know he’s not rushing you into anything, he simply wants to help. And deep down you know talking to someone will actually help. “It’s my best friend,” you start, taking a deep breath. “She talked about me behind my back, bad things. She made up stuff just so she could be with a boy. He’s our mutual friend and apparently, he liked me, but she liked him too and so she made up horrible things about me, just so he wouldn’t like me anymore,” even though Steve’s blood boils at the thought of someone else liking you, he doesn’t show it and lets you continue; this is you finally opening up to him after all. ��But we all know he’s a fuckboy, I didn’t even like him in the first place. I know my worth, I’m not going to let myself get that low,”

“Attagirl,” he whispers as you say that, proud of you for knowing that. You smile at that, immediately feeling a little better. You knew talking would work.

“It’s honestly just some unwanted drama,” you now continue. “The truth is, I should have seen her red flags from the start. Looking back at it now, she’s full of them. I think somewhere in my heart I knew I would end up hurt, but she could be so sweet at times, she made me feel special,” you confess, his hands wrapping you in a hug. You sigh into it, keeping the new wave of tears at bay. Leaning into him, you can feel all the frustration melting away, calmness taking over your body. “Thank you,” you quietly whisper, feeling a kiss being pressed to the crown of your head.

A couple of minutes later you hear him coming up the stairs, a cup of hot tea in his hands. He said he’ll try to make you feel better, saying something about how everyone deserves to be treated well when they’re feeling sad. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

“Be careful, it’s hot!” he warns as he hands you the cup, you quickly placing it on the nightstand beside the bed where you’re currently half sitting, half laying down. You pat the space beside you, motioning for him to come to lay down too. He obliges, doing as you want him to, offering you more comfort than you could have ever imagined receiving from someone when he wraps his strong arms around your torso, guiding your head to lay on his chest.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“This. Staying here beside me while there are so many things you have to do, stuff that needs to be taken care of,” you murmur, looking up at him. His hand is reassuringly running up and down your back, making you feel safe in his embrace.

“Because you’ve had a rough day. I’m hoping I can make you feel better. Besides, no one should be betrayed like that, especially not by their best friend,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thank you. For everything, really,” you murmur, feeling your eyes getting heavier and heavier with each second.

“No need to thank me, doll,” is the last thing you hear before falling asleep, and you must confess, that was one of the best naps you have ever had.

i hope you enjoyed this! please like, reblog and/or comment, it really helps writers with the motivation <33

wanted to be tagged in this piece: @velvetcloxds

taglist form

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel fluff #writing hours #taja's requested fics

74 notes · View notes

cursedwriter · 3 years

Text

Dancing with your Ghost - Fushiguro Megumi

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Warnings: Deals with death, Megumi has various breakdowns, it’s just really sad over all... sorry for making you cry in advance!

Words: 4.9k

Author’s Note: Kind of inspired by this song: Dancing with your Ghost - Sasha Sloan // Also, when they dance, I kinda imagined them to dance to this: Technicolour Beat - Oh Wonder

“Is he still in there?” Yuji pointed at the door by the end of the hallway. Gojo was walking in his direction, his expression unreadable.

“No matter what I tell him, he won’t come out.” His voice sounded tired, almost worn out. The sight must’ve been hard for him to bear. Itadori gulped. He wasn’t sure if he could take it. “You should try talking to him. Maybe he will listen to you. We both know he would regret it if he missed the ceremony.” Gojo patted Yuji on the shoulder, hand lingering for a few additional seconds in silent comfort.

“I’ll try my best,” Itadori nodded, though, he sounded more hopeful than he was. This was going to be rough.

Soon after, Gojo disappeared behind the corner and out of sight. His shoulders were slouching and his head was hanging low as if he couldn’t walk upright. This was hard on everyone. But the person who had it the worst of all was…

“Fushiguro, can I come in?” Yuji knocked on the door three times. No answer. He tried again. This time more forceful. “Hey, Megumi! It’s me, Yuji! Do you mind if I come in?” Still no answer. Itadori sighed, but he pushed the door open anyways, peering into the dimly lit library of the Jujutsu Tech High school. Admittedly, he’s never been in here before. Yuji wasn’t really the non-fiction reader… or anything that wasn’t manga, really. But upon entering the room, he couldn’t help but gawk. The shelves were stacked to the max, piling up above his head in a seemingly endless supply of books. There were books everywhere. The amount of knowledge that was stored in here was immense. And all about curses and jujutsu? Incredible! Maybe he should’ve come here sooner. He bet that there had to be at least a dozen books about Sukuna here somewhere.

“It doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t make any sense.” Itadori was pulled out of his thoughts by the repetitive mantra that was coming from somewhere behind a shelf. He followed the sound that was mingled with quiet sobs and he had to force himself to keep walking. This was more terrifying than facing all the curses of this world together.

“Megumi?” He peered around the shelf, finding his friend sitting on the old wooden floor, frantically flipping through a book with yellowed pages that seemed to be falling apart at the seams. It must’ve been ancient.

“No sense, no sense, no sense,” he repeated over and over again as if that phrase was the only thing keeping him sane.

“Megumi?” Itadori tried again and finally Megumi’s head snapped up and he looked at Itadori like a deer caught in headlights… only way worse. His eyes were bloodshot with dark purple circles underneath them. A stark contrast to his sickly pale skin. Briefly, Yuji wondered if Megumi had slept at all since it happened. Tears were streaming down his face and it felt like they would never stop. An endless river of sorrow and despair. Yuji was sure he heard his own heart shatter in his chest as he looked at his best friend. He wished he could take some of the pain away. Even if it was just a little, but of course that was impossible. “The ceremony will start soon and-“

“That’s stupid!” Fushiguro cut him off harshly, his voice hoarse and quieter than usual. “Why would there be a freaking ceremony when she’s coming back?!”

“Megumi, she-“

“No! Stop it!” He yelled, throwing the book he was reading against the opposite wall. “Stop it! Shut up!” He pressed his palms against his temples as if he wanted to crush his own skull. “I’ll do it, you’ll see! All of you! You’ll see! I’ll bring her back! I’ll bring her back, okay?! I will – I will!” He repeated it over and over again and it was apparent that he wanted to proof himself right more than anything else. Maybe making him believe would help ease his pain? Should he encourage him? No. Despite wishing that he could provide some words of comfort right now, Itadori knew that false hope would be the cruelest thing he could offer. No matter how much it hurt, but Megumi couldn’t go on like this… searching for something that wasn’t real.

“Megumi, please. You’ll regret it if you don’t come,” Itadori tried again, picking up the book that Megumi had thrown away. He flipped through the first pages and he could already tell that the answers Megumi was searching for weren’t in this book. It was mostly about how sorcerers could reincarnate as curses if their dead bodies weren’t handled properly. If they died you had to make sure that the last hit was infused with cursed energy. Usually, that took care of things. However, if they died of natural causes, diseases or accidents there was a special ritual, a ceremony that made sure their bodies were put to rest accordingly. Kind of like a funeral, but then again, not quite. This was the ceremony Fushiguro refused to attend, even though it was highly valued among sorcerers. It was a way to pay your last respects, value their accomplishments and thank them for their sacrifice. He probably refused to go because that would make her death final and he would be forced to move on, no matter how hard it would be… and it was going to be very hard.

“SHE’S COMING BACK, DAMMIT!” Megumi yelled at him, reaching for another book that was stocked in a pile he’d built himself. The tower crumbled with the way he yanked it out, dozen books falling to the ground, scattering to their feet. It was eerily quiet for a second, Yuji didn’t dare to speak. The atmosphere so thick, he doubted even Maki’s demon blade could cut through it. And then, right when he wanted to say something, anything really to get rid of the suffocating silence in the room, Megumi started sobbing. Not like before. Impossibly, it was even worse. His whole body shook with the action, hands that were clinging onto the book were trembling and despite him hanging his head low, Yuji could see the frequent tears that were hitting the old worn out pages of the book, blurring the ink further, making it almost unreadable.

Hesitantly, he took a step forward, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Should he hug him? What could he even say? Should he call for someone? Gojo-sensei? Would he know what to do? Or Nobara? Or, wait! Y/N always knew what to do when it came to him… Oh, right…

Yuji slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. How could he forget?! It really didn’t feel real yet, huh? Itadori tried to swallow the big lump in his throat as he crouched down and gently took the book out of Fushiguro’s shaking hands. He looked so fragile, as if a single slap to the wrist could break his arm.

“I just don’t get it,” Megumi whispered. His voice sounded far away, as if he was underwater or as if Yuji had cotton in his ears, muffling his voice to a point where it was almost incomprehensible. “It’s just so unfair.”

Yuji placed the book on the ground beside him, skipping over the title “Resurrection and the balance of the world”, it read. He gulped again. Could it be possible?

“I know it is.” He laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and another muffled cry escaped Megumi’s mouth. Yuji had seen a lot over the course of just one year, but not once has he witnessed such utter despair. The sight pulled on his heart strings in ways he couldn’t even explain.

“She fought against the most heinous creatures every day and you’re telling me she died because some fucking asshole thought it was a good idea to drive while being absolutely shit faced?!” Some of his words were swallowed by his sobs, but Itadori understood him well enough. “I refuse to believe that! I refuse to accept that!”

Momentarily Itadori was thrown back to the moment they got the call, he remembered it all too vividly. The shock, the confusion and his scream…

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the nurse led them into the room. The air was chilly and it smelled like disinfectant. The stench so unbelievably strong, Megumi thought he might throw up. It burned in his eyes and nose and he distantly felt his cheeks getting wet. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the smell or of what was to come… at this point, it still felt like a sick joke, some twisted game or prank. Just not real, like a dream, a nightmare he would wake up from any second.

There was a single bed in the middle of the room, the body underneath covered by a white cloth. Gojo, Nobara and Yuji gathered around it, hands clutched together in front of them as if they were silently praying. Megumi hesitated. He stood in the doorframe, looking at the scene in front of him and nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Everyone was crying. Even Gojo seemed more tense than usual and he was sure he saw a stray tear slip from underneath his sunglasses.

The room was silent, except for the door falling shut behind him as the nurse left them to mourn in peace. This was a dream, right? A nightmare? How could it be anything else?

Megumi’s footsteps echoed off the walls as he hesitantly approached the bed covered in white sheets.

This is just a dream. This is a nightmare. You’re going to wake up any second now. Just wake up. Wake up! Wake up, dammit!

But he didn’t wake up. Not even as he reached for the white cloth. And he didn’t wake up as he slowly lifted it up. He didn’t wake up when everyone sucked in a sharp breath. And he didn’t wake up as Nobara’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground sobbing. He didn’t wake up as he laid his eyes on your peaceful but lifeless face.

Megumi didn’t wake up. But God did he wish he did.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity. Studying your features. How your hair was softly flowing on the pillow, how your lips were slightly parted as if you would wake up at any given moment and tell him something important. But he also noticed that your cheeks lacked their signature pinkish tint and your lips were more blue than their usual vibrant red.

His hand inched closer to your face, connecting to your cheeks and adoringly caressing it. It was cold underneath his touch. Your skin feeling more like wax than it felt alive.

No one said anything, the only sound was Nobara’s quiet sobs that she tried to stiffle to the best of her abilities. Everyone watched Megumi and no one knew what to do. Neither of them has ever felt so helpless. Even Gojo was rendered speechless at the heartbreaking sight in front of him.

And then, everything slowly started to sink in…

She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s really gone! You’re not waking up! Why aren’t you waking up?! Wake up!! No, no, no. This can’t happen. This can’t happen. This isn’t happening! Tell me this isn’t happening?!

Didn’t I just talk to her this morning? Didn’t we talk about going to the beach as soon as it got warmer? Didn’t we make dinner plans? Didn’t she boast about a new recipe she wanted to try? Didn’t this just happen? And you’re telling me that all of that is just… gone? Just like that? In a moments notice… poof?! Evaporated into thin air? You’re telling me that?

“Wake up, dammit! Wake up, dammit! WAKE UP!”

Everyone stared helplessly at Fushiguro. At first no one knew if he was talking to himself or you, but then he started desperately shaking your shoulders, repeating the words over and over again. “We wanted to go to the beach, remember? You told me you couldn’t wait! Come back, and I’ll drive us right now! Come back! Come back to me, please! Please!”

Gojo couldn’t bear the sight anymore. The way he shook your body as if that would change anything. With a few long strides he closed the distance between him and Megumi and pulled him away from the bed. He was thrashing at him, screaming in his face to let him go, but Gojo didn’t listen. He gladly took a hit or two if that meant Fushiguro could get at least some of his frustration out of his body. To Gojo, the room itself was a hard place to be in – for obvious reasons. The energy here made him feel uneasy and on edge. The amount of cursed energy gushing out of Megumi was immense and almost unbearable. He had to get his emotions in check or else…

Megumi continued to yell and thrash. “Let me go, you bastard! Let me go! I need to see her! I need to see her!”

“I understand that this is hard for you, but you need to calm down!” Gojo’s voice was stern. This was probably the first time ever that he actually put on the façade of a responsible adult. Nobara and Yuji watched the two with wide eyes, but didn’t interfere otherwise. “If you keep this up, you might end up cursing her! Do you want that?!”

“Let me go! Let me go!” Megumi wasn’t listening.

“Megumi, snap out of it!” Gojo’s palm connected to Megumi’s cheek, his flesh burning hot where it had connected. For a moment, the room was silent again. Only Megumi’s labored breaths broke through the thick tension.

“You bastard!” Megumi launched himself at Gojo with all his strength, but that was exactly what Gojo intended. It was better if he directed all his energy towards him than having it leak out of him uncontrollably. Otherwise he had the potential of manifesting a new special grade curse that neither one of them wanted to deal with, especially if you were to be reborn as said curse.

Megumi stopped his relentless attacks, knees buckling under his weight as a single agony filled screamed echoed off the walls…

Megumi slowly opened his eyes. His head was aching, blood soaring in his ears. What happened? He looked around himself. The room was dark, only illuminated by the moon light that peered through his partially closed blinds. He was laying in his bed, the room a mess just like he remembered. That was unlike him. Well, ever since that day he hasn’t been himself at all. Now, he more or less felt like an empty shell, existing but not alive.

He groaned, sitting up while he rubbed his temples, hoping to get the relentless throbbing to stop. Ah, that’s right. A few flashes of the previous events reminded him of what had happened. Megumi’s frustration and anger had gotten the best of him and he started throwing books, ripping them out of their shelves and even tearing some of them apart when he couldn’t find the answers he was looking for. Yuji had to call for Gojo and he in turn had knocked him unconscious.

Megumi huffed. Great. Now he was probably not permitted to go to the library again. He should really start thinking before lashing out like this. No, matter, though. If push comes to shove he’d find a way in and if it’s the last thing he did. He didn’t really care anymore anyways. What’s the worst that could happen? Expulsion? That was nothing.

He peeled the covers back, his shirt sticking to his body uncomfortably. Maybe he should take a shower before he went back again.

Reluctantly, he got up and walked towards his bathroom, mindful not to trip on anything that was scattered on his floor.

Once he was there, he turned the shower faucet on, letting the water heat up while he stripped out of his clothes. His head was still killing him and his whole body ached. He shivered, even as he got into the shower and the hot water burned his skin. He was still cold. For some reason he didn’t seem to be able to get warm anymore, as if you took all of his warmth with you, when you left him.

“Ew, stop doing that,” you laughed wholeheartedly as Megumi shook his wet hair in your face after coming out of the shower. “Seriously, are you a dog?”

“No, but I love hearing you laugh.” Megumi wrapped his arms around you, pressing your back against his naked chest as you both watched your reflection in the mirror. “I really love you, Y/N. So much,” he whispered in your ear, not taking his eyes off the mirror. He could see the faint blush on your cheeks and he placed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck to emphasize his words.

“I love you, too.” The smile on your lips and the way your eyes sparkled with joy, filled his heart with warmth and light. He could bask in it for all eternity and he would never get tired of it.

Megumi turned the water off, still shivering. It was to no use. His skin was burning red, though, and the whole room was filled with steam and yet, he had goosebumps all over his body. His teeth started clattering as he dried himself and he put on new clothes.

The clock on his bedside table told him that it was three in the morning. He felt like he forgot about something… something important. What was it again?

And then his eyes widened in shock. No, no, no.

“Hey, look!” Megumi felt your slender fingers wrap around his wrist, your warmth immediately warming his cold skin. You tugged him gently and he followed you. It didn’t take long for you to reach your desired destination and you stopped, eyes shining with awe in them as you watched over the city, lights sparkling and illuminating the darkness. Megumi couldn’t deny that the view was breathtaking, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from constantly looking at you instead. The way your face lit up, the way the lights danced on your face and how your cheeks were always tinted in their usual pinkish color, made him fall for you all over again. His heart hammered in his chest and his pulse picked up. Butterflies assaulting his stomach in the best way imaginable and he felt like he was floating above ground. Never has he felt so happy. “There! It’s starting!” You beamed at him as the first flash of light painted the night sky in a bright blue color, then it changed to red and then green. The sound of other fireworks being set off rang through the otherwise silent night. Here, on top of the mountain away from anyone, it was the most peaceful place he could imagine. But he wasn’t sure if it was only because of the view and the fact that no one was around or if it was because you were here. Whatever it was, he didn’t dream to fight it. The feeling so foreign yet so welcomed.

Suddenly your hand appeared in his line of vision and he didn’t hesitate to take it. What he didn’t expect was you starting to spin around. It took him a moment to catch up. “C’mon, Megumi, what are you doing? Don’t just stand there so stiffly! Dance with me!” You urged him on and Megumi felt his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He could only hope that you couldn’t see it.

“There’s no music, though,” he said, trying to find an excuse to not make a complete fool out of himself. You see, Megumi wasn’t a dancer. Give him a choreographed fighting formation and he could do that no problem, but moving his feet to the rhythm of a song? Nope. That was sure to end in him tripping over his own feet and in the worst case break his leg or arm.

You rolled your eyes at him, but instead of saying anything, you reached into your back pocket to get a hold of your phone. It didn’t take long and the sound of the fireworks was mixed with the soft tune of a song that he didn’t know. “Better?”

Well, not really… Megumi scratched the back of his head, unsure. Better to come clean, I guess. “You see… I can’t really dance… like at all,” Megumi stammered.

“So what? I can’t dance either,” you laughed, spinning around and jumping up and down like it was the most normal thing to do. The smile on your face never faltered and you did another spin, throwing your hands up in the air, moving them around awkwardly. Megumi couldn’t help but laugh at your awkward movements. You looked so silly, it was hilarious. “See? Now it’s only fair that you make a fool out of yourself, too. You can’t leave me hanging like this!”

What the hell, right? Megumi started moving his feet, still super stiffly and anything but graceful, but he did it. He looked at you, following your movements and it didn’t take him long to get the hang of it… well, somewhat at least. He still looked really awkward and helpless, so you reached both your hands out for him again and he grabbed them without hesitation, just like before. You started spinning both of you in circles, giggling at the way his face lit up slightly. He joined your laughter, looking at you with the most adoring smile in the world. It felt… so easy. Everything with you felt so easy.

So now it was just the both of you, spinning around in fast circles, laughing at the night sky filled with stars while in the distance the sound of fireworks slowly died down. The music playing softly in the background, but you didn’t even care that the rhythm of the song didn’t match with your movements at all. Nothing mattered in that moment. Just the two of you. Together. Forever.

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up.” Gojo scratched the back of his neck, smiling apologetically. “Maybe I was a bit too rough, when I knocked you out. Sorry about that.”

Megumi stared at him sitting in the front row of lined up chairs. The room was only dimly lit by the candles at the other end. The soft light they cast illuminated a picture of you in a black frame. It was the same one he had saved as his phone background. Megumi gulped, feet moving on their own as he approached Gojo, though, he felt his knees wobble unsteadily. The air became thicker and thicker with every other step he took. It felt excruciatingly hard to breathe. It was suffocating.

Megumi sat down on a chair next to Gojo, forcing himself to tear his eyes off the framed picture in front of him. If he didn’t he was afraid he might break down again. So he shifted his attention to the man in the chair next to him. He was already looking at him, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, as usual. There was a slight frown in his features, though, and his mouth was pressed into a thin line, a stark contrast to his normally giddy self. So Gojo could be serious, huh? Who would’ve thought? Bet you would’ve loved to see him like that…

“Megumi,” Gojo broke the silence first, his tone soft, but there was a certain sternness behind it that Megumi didn’t know he had until now. It left no room for interpretation. This was going to be a serious talk and Fushiguro didn’t know if he was ready for that yet. “I know that losing someone you care about is not easy and I’m not trying to pretend that I know exactly what you’re going through right now, but I’m telling you as your sensei and as a friend… you have to move on. And that means you have to stop looking for ways to bring her back.”

Megumi opened his mouth to tell him off, but Gojo just held a finger up to show him he wasn’t done yet. The crease between Megumi’s brows deepened, but he kept his mouth shut regardless. “The world works under a few distinct principles. Rules that cannot be broken, if you will. Like we know that after the sun sets, dawn will come. With darkness, there is light and no matter how harsh a winter might be, spring will always come next. And the pinnacle of those rules will always be that with life there comes death. We don’t get to choose when this’ll be or how it’ll happen, but from the moment we’re born we know without a doubt that we’ll have to leave this place at some point. Death is certain. It’s but one part of life and disrupting that cycle, breaking one of the unbreakable rules, would cause the whole system to fall apart. It would level the ground for mayhem and destruction, nothing would make sense anymore. The world would crumble. As sorcerers you know that we protect the ones who cannot protect themselves, but we also maintain balance and Megumi… while I do understand your desire to see her again, I have to warn you… even if there is a chance, I won’t let you do it at the expense of everyone else’s life.”

Silence fell between them again. Megumi had a hard time believing that these words really just came out of Gojo’s mouth. Deep down, he knew he was right. He knew it was a futile plan to bring you back. It was selfish and irresponsible, but he was so… desperate. So desperate to hear your voice again, so desperate to listen to you laugh or complain, so desperate to feel your delicate and warm touch on his cold skin. He was so desperate for these things; he couldn’t think straight. His mind felt foreign to him without you there. He didn’t know who he was, who he would be without you by his side. He didn’t know if he wanted to be in this world anymore with his source of warmth and comfort gone. They said, time healed all wounds but as of now that seemed impossible. Just a thing people told themselves to keep moving forward. A lie that was supposed to protect oneself from the cruel and harsh truth that the world didn’t stop spinning, that time passed by and that dawn always came… no matter what. The world moved forward regardless if you were here or not and it felt like a cruel joke to him. Nothing seemed the same. He didn’t recognize anything, looking at the world with different eyes. How could there be a world without you in it? Why was everyone moving forward while he was left behind? And how could they? How could they move on? Why didn’t the world stop spinning? It should. Because nothing felt right. Nothing was the same. And yet… that only held true for him.

Megumi wiped away his silent tears with the sleeve of his shirt. “But I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he croaked out. It was the first thing that came to his mind. He replayed the morning with you over and over again and he couldn’t remember if he said goodbye to you when you left that fateful day. Did he? Did he not? In any case, he would’ve never thought how final of a farewell it would’ve been in the end. “I don’t even remember the last thing I said to her,” he sobbed.

He felt beyond guilty for not being able to recall it clearly. Did he say ‘I love you’? Did you say it back? He wanted to believe he did, but he just wasn’t sure and it drove him insane.

“She knew that you loved her very much, Megumi. I’m sure she knew until the very end.” Gojo patted his shoulder a few times, before he got up. “Take all the time you need.” He left the room, closing the door behind him, but not before he turned around one last time, looking at Megumi with worried eyes. “But remember, Megumi… You have to move on eventually, no matter how hard it is. For her sake and your own… Just know that you have people in your life that you can rely on any time, okay?”

Megumi nodded and Gojo let the door fall shut behind him. The silence that ensued was almost deafening. Finally, Megumi let his tears fall freely, sobbing like a child and sucking in air after shallow breaths.

Everything hurt with you gone. How could he ever move on? How could he ever love again? Megumi was scared he might break in half. How much pain could someone even bear? Though, deep down he knew that he didn’t have a choice… He had to try. And he would try his hardest to keep moving forward, holding on to that tiny glimpse of hope that one day he’d see you again. And when he did, he swore to himself to never stop telling you how much he loved you. Always and forever.

625 notes · View notes

presidentbungus · 2 years

Text

heres a request I got on ao3 literally 6 months ago and just got around to doing lmao. engy and medic adopt a robot. so on and so forth. also read on ao3!

(fic is after the cut)

Engineer figures it’s trouble when he hears his own voice outside the door, and his suspicions are not only confirmed but blown somewhere into Canada when Medic falls through, covered in bruises and holding (maybe more like barely restraining) a struggling Engineer-bot.

“Doc,” Engineer sighs, and then: “What.”

Medic is grinning, the bot is yelling incomprehensibly, Medic wrestles it onto a table and manages to pin it down. “Come help me restrain it, please?” he says, sweetly, like this is a normal thing to be asking help for.

“Medic,” Engineer warns, and then Medic flashes him his version of puppy-dog eyes. He is terrible at puppy-dog eyes.

Engineer stands and holds down the bot’s legs while Medic straps its arms to the table. All the while, it screeches, in a voice that’s far too similar to Engineer’s for comfort: “Stop—hey—stop! Let me go! I don’t belong to you!”

Engineer gives the bot a sympathetic look, which does nothing, and Medic lets out a little breathy cackle.

“We are not keeping it,” Engineer says, to make sure to set expectations right off the bat.

“I wasn’t going to ask that.”

Engineer glares.

“I was not.”

“Tell me why there’s a poor lil’ robot sittin’ and thrashing on the exam table, in that case?”

Medic does a little shimmy with his shoulders while looking at the ground, the common sign of ‘I’m trying to rephrase this question so I don’t get in trouble for asking it’. Engineer resolves he will hold his ground and not bend to Medic’s will whatsoever and, wait, look, there’s the puppy-dog eyes again, and Medic wraps his arms around Engineer and sets his chin on his head and says, quietly: “Are you sure you don’t want to keep him.”

Engineer can physically feel his resolve crumbling, but he made a promise to himself. “No. We’re letting him go. He is going. I am not going to hear an answer besides—“

And Medic does that thing where he lifts up Engineer’s hard hat and gives him a little smooch on the forehead and Engineer melts and he is suddenly reminded why he has never won an argument with Medic a single time, ever.

“Where are we gonna keep him?”

“I’m not sure,” Medic says, a little too fast, like he was just waiting for Engineer to say that. “In here?”

“He’s so loud. And angry. And I don’t think he wants to be here.

“STAGE ONE: BARGAINING,” the robot interrupts, in a suddenly much less human voice. “I got money in me. Just take the money. Please don’t do anything. I don’t even have OFFICIAL GRAY MANN CO. COMPANY SECRETS in me or nothin’. You’re being completely irrational.”

“Shut up,” Medic says.

“Doc, the bot has a right to be angry.”

“STAGE TWO: SYMPATHIZING.” The bot suddenly starts crying, still wholly expressionless. “I’m sorry. Please. I have a family.”

Medic laughs. “You do?”

“Marco… my son. I haven’t seen him in so long, please.” The bot’s a little misty-eyed, despite being physically incapable of it. “He’s twelve, on… on the soccer team. I used to go watch matches, and… take him for steak and milkshakes, like he always loves…”

Medic looks somewhere between fascinated and horrified. Which is his usual expression, given, but it feels more appropriate here. “Wait, do you think robots can reproduce?”

“And he… does this thing… I pick ‘im up and swirl him around in my arms and he laughs and says ‘Daddy, Daddy’… an’ he has this high little shrieking laugh, that everyone teases him for. I gotta admit I’m guilty of it, poking a little fun at him I mean, but really I think it’s just the best sound in the whole world, to be honest…”

Engineer thinks, as the bot goes on its tirade in the background. “Well, Gray’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer when it comes to bots, but I reckon you could… hm. This one can’t, for sure, not sure what it’s going on about, but…”

He glances up, sees the face Medic is making (absolute joyful insanity) and decides there’s no point in resisting. “Well, I guess I’ll see if I can figure something out.”

To this, both the robot and Medic suddenly snap their heads in his direction.

“Really?” the bot says, eyes sparkling.

“I love you, Dell,” Medic says, draping his arms across his shoulders and leaning in until they’re touching noses.

“Y-yeah,” Engineer says—he’s not sure how he’s still standing. The world’s spinning a lil’, to be totally honest. “Whatever. We need to… find somewhere…”

“We have a basement for a reason, Dell…”

“When’d you decide that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Oh, we are going to have so much fun, Dell. We are going to have the time of our lives. Aren’t you excited?”

This can only go wrong. “… Yeah.”

“Okay, so we’re naming the robot Dell Jr.”

“What?”

“That is a good name,” the robot offers.

“No we are not naming the robot Dell Jr.”

“OVERWRITING UNIT IDENTIFIER TO DELL JR.”

“Stop overwriting your unit identifier to Dell Jr.”

“The robot is allowed to do as it likes,” Medic says, shrugging.

“Doc, come on.”

“And next I was thinking we might find Dell Jr. a mate?”

“Stop calling it Dell Jr.” What? “No we are not finding Dell Jr. a mate.”

Medic’s already over there, sitting on the exam table, smiling. “Dell Jr., what are your thoughts on Medic bots?”

“Stop it.”

“They’re very handsome,” Dell Jr.—not Dell Jr.—the robot says, with no shortage of awe.

“Oh, wow. Dell Jr. is a lot like you, Dell.”

“Doc!”

And here Medic gets that evil gleam in his eyes and he hops off the table, and Dell backs up until his back hits tile and Medic sidles up, grinning, and Dell knows he will not stand a chance and he scrambles to get to a doorway and run before he is roped into anything else and—

Hands land on his shoulders, tugging him back, and then Medic pulls him up into a bridal carry, cackling madly and smothering him with kisses—and Dell struggles, barely, or can feel himself struggling, but really he knows there is no point. He has already lost.

“God dammit,” he says, though he cannot bring himself to believe it. “You are terrible.”

“I love you,” Medic hums.

“I love you more than the moon and the stars, I do not want to help you.”

“Let’s go find a husband for Dell Jr.,” Medic hums.

There’s a “yay” in the distance.

“Come on—“

Medic kisses him.

“God dammit! Fine.” Engineer is set down gently and he leans against Medic, huffing. “But I’m not gonna like it.”

“Don’t lie to yourself.”

Dell does not have a proper response to this, so he just crosses his arms and stomps out the door.

—

“Hey, Engie?”

Engineer’s eyes flick up to the doorway and back down to his workbench. “Yes, Scout?”

“So, uh… why are there, like, a billion robots in the basement?”

“… Was there a padlock on the door?”

“I ran outta Bonk so I’m checking all the closets to make sure—“

“It was Doc’s idea,” Dell says, standing up and rushing out into the hall. “I had not that much to do with it. How many robots were there?”

Scout follows after at a light jog. “Like, a bunch.”

“Give me an estimate.”

“Like, probably twenty or thirty—“

“There were three yesterday,” he says, and he turns the corner into Medic, and past Medic he sees a sea of hard hats and cowlicks and glowing eyes. “Oh, no. That’s not good.”

“Look how well their reproductive systems are working, Dell! We are geniuses!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dell says. He looks back at Scout and Scout looks up at Medic and Medic seems to be too busy squealing to look at much of anything.

Josef Jr. and Dell Jr. stand in the center of a cluster of smaller robots which seem to be various amalgamations of both parents. “Howdy, father,” Dell Jr. calls, followed by a chorus of “howdy, grandfather”.

Dell swallows. “What is this? How many… children… did you have?”

“This is Marco,” Dell Jr. says, gesturing to a particularly tall child robot standing in front of him.

“Dell Jr. Jr. the second,” Josef Jr. begins. “Dell Jr. Jr. the sixth. Josef Jr. Jr. the twenty-second—“

Scout steps forward, running a hand through his hair. “Are they… all named Dell Jr. Jr.?”

“And Josef Jr. Jr. And Marco too. He’s on the soccer team,” Dell Jr. says.

“Our name generation functions are not particularly diverse,” Josef Jr. adds.

“I am very happy to finally have a family.”

Dell is suddenly brought up in a bridal carry, as Medic plants a gigantic kiss on his cheek, cackling. “We will take over the world!”

Scout just looks vaguely uncomfortable. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably,” Engineer says.

“We will build an empire on the corpses of our enemies! No man shall stand in our wake! We shall stand before the keeling masses and—“

“Medic, calm down.“

“… Sorry.”

“I’m on the soccer team,” Marco says.

“Thank you Marco.”

#bungus fics #science party #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 scout #tf2 robots #tf2 fanfiction

17 notes · View notes

echo-three-one · 3 years

Note

How ‘bout Jealous Soap x reader?

Hello Earthisdonut 🌍 🍩

I saw your ask while I was at work and I can't stop thinking about how the story goes... I had a lot of ideas but as I wrote, it kept on swinging on the other direction. Maybe it's my feelings being resonated into the words or an entire force telling me to go this way. Anyways here you go...

A jealous soap x reader fic.

Take me home

You take a deep breath and closed your eyes, clearing away the mixed sounds of random chatter, loud tv commentary and the all the yelling. 'Friday evening shifts are the worst' you thought to yourself as you make your way back to your station, wearing a smile on your face.

"Hey miss!" a customer whistled from the far end of the counter. You hastily walked to him and smiled.

"What can I get you?" you asked with sincerity in your voice. You've worked long enough to master the art of faking a smile when in fact you are tired, but this job is all you have and the tips kept the bills afloat.

"Two beers and roasted nuts, please." He ordered, you were impressed at how kind he was, unlike the other new customers who reeked of rudeness and bad manners.

"Coming right up, Sir!" you winked as you tend to his order, mentally noting his tab for later. You hand him over the beer, placed on a circular chip that served as a coaster, followed by a heaping bowl of roasted nuts.

This kind of scene continued throughout the night, just with different kinds of people with different combinations of orders. You feel tired but you tend to forget it when you look at the tip jar, the thing that kept you moving forward. It's also the thing that's holding you back from life, you remembered when your best friend told you that you should unwind sometimes instead of rendering overtime during your day offs, to which you replied : "Soon enough", and that was well over a year ago.

As you wiped off the recently left spot by the counter, a well built man immediately took the spot and sat down, you tilted you head upward as the action surprised you. There he was, you couldn't miss his look, he stood out on the crowd because of his haircut, a perfectly cut mohawk and a scar on his left eye. He grinned at you, his blue eyes looked excited as soon as it met yours.

"John? I didn't know you'd be home!" You gasped as soon as you realized he's actually there, quickly putting a shot glass and pouring his favorite drink.

"Hey Y/N! I knew I'd find you here!" his hand gestured for a shake but he quickly dismissed it as soon as he realized he couldn't do it while you're at work.

"Yeah, working as always." you replied, trying to sound contented. He smiled at you as he raised his glass and downed the drink. You couldn't help but look at the way his Adam's apple moved as he consumed the drink.

His face turned into something incomprehensible as he let the taste of the strong alcohol set in, making you chuckle a little. His eyes turned to you as he heard you laugh.

"What's funny?" he asked. You simple shook you head and poured another pint on his shot glass.

"I'll be back in a few. I have to serve drinks for these wild crowd." You informed him, but as soon as you were about to step out, you hear him stand up.

"What time will you be off?" He asked.

"Two more hours." You replied without looking back. You could feel your cheeks warm up and an uncontrollable smile plastered on your face.

"Okay. I'll be here till then." he yelled as you entered the door to the employee's area.

'Shit Shit shit shit.' you whispered to yourself as you regain composure. He felt way off. He didn't act like this toward you before. You could feel something odd between you two, and you're very distracted about it.

You made your way to your manager's office to request a five minute break. You knew he'd approve a breather from you because he was a accommodating to you since day one. You believed it's because you always give it your all in every shift.

You softly knock on his office door and pushed it slightly ajar, peeking your head through it as you saw him on his desk, doing some paperwork.

"Ah, Y/N. You need anything, love?" he greeted in his usual tone. His endearment didn't matter you as he calls every female "love".

"Can I take a five? Just needed to breathe." you huffed. He nodded in approval and stood up.

"Let's puff it out, yeah?" he smiled as he offered a stick of cigarette.

The cold breeze of the Saturday evening wrapped around your work uniform. The noise from the bar was muffled but occasional screams would echo across the street. You exhaled a long stream of cigarette smoke through your mouth as the relaxing feel of nicotine coursed through your system. Smoking was your go-to activity whenever you feel extreme unexplained emotions, such as seeing John MacTavish after a long time.

"Tough crowd?" Your manager turned his head to you as you casually leaned on the cold metal railing.

"Not really. I just saw someone I least expected to see." You retorted, pressing your lips against the cigarette butt as you closed your eyes and inhaled the vice.

"Someone you hate?" He queried.

"Not necessarily. But at one point of my life, maybe... It's just... it's complicated." You complained, sighing at the thought of him once again. You mentally fought against yourself whether to reminisce or not, reminding yourself that the reason you went out here was to clear your head, not to fill it with memories of summer 4 years ago.

You fixed your posture and flicked off the cigarette butt to the ashtray. Your boss followed, escorting you back to the office.

"Thanks for the company. I needed it." You thanked him as you crossed the street. He hummed in acknowledgement as he opened the door for you. You couldn't help but scan the room quickly for a mohawk, but he wasn't around. Maybe he went to the bathroom, you thought to yourself as you get back to your station.

9:59 pm. Your eyes trailed to the huge digital clock by the door, rapidly moving across the crowd still no mohawk in sight. This actually made you sad, he wasn't the kind of guy who dissappoints, you always saw him as a man of his word. You did confirm that he already paid for his tab about an hour and a half ago, just after your short break.

Guess you're going home alone. So much for ' I'll be here till then' you mentally argued, frowning as you wiped off the last glass in the tray.

10:00 pm. You sighed and lazily grabbed your time card and let the huge metal clock record your departure. You felt your energy quickly deplete due to the dissappointment that is John MacTavish.

"See you on Monday!" you waved goodbye to your coworkers who seemed to notice your sudden loss of energy. You push the back door slowly and stepped outside. It was getting cold and you weren't prepared for it.

"Hey." A low scottish accent muttered just beside you, making you yelp in surprise.

"Holy crap, you scared the shit out of me!" you angrily punched his strong arm, hurting yourself in the process.

"I'm sorry." he spoke lazily, almost tired or drunk. You couldn't exactly tell, but it was far from his tone earlier.

"Pretty chilly, eh?" you asked him, imitating his accent. Something that you always considered a major turn on when it comes to him.

"A little bit. And your impression is way off, I don't say it like that." he retorted nonchalantly making you worry if something happened while he was waiting.

"You seem a little off, what's the problem?" you asked, playfully bumping him while you walked the empty streets on your way home.

"It's just... uh.. Nevermind." he trailed off, his secrecy was making you impatient and you stopped on your tracks. He continued walking, looking down at the ground until he noticed you're no longer beside him.

He turned back. "You forgot something?"

"I don't get you." you raised your voice. He slowly walked back to you until he's just inches away from your face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I should've just asked..."

"Asked what? You told me you'd stay here till my shift is over and then you're gone like that?" you complained, the tone of your voice was demanding and you could see him flinch when words hurt.

"I didn't want to raise suspicion."

"Who would be suspicious of you?!"

"Shortly after you left, I took a smoke. But I didn't do it by the smoking area. I was way up here, enjoying the breeze." he said, turning to the smoking area which was very visible from up here. Was he sad because he saw you and your manager by the smoking area? What kind of eyes did he have? You didn't want to assume things so you started to supply him with questions to fill in the blanks.

"And? Was the area too sad for you to be all emo like that all of a sudden?" you complained, soing your best impression of an angry person, but you know deep inside that you couldn't get angry at this man.

"Yeah. You could say that." he chuckled. He couldn't even look at you anymore.

"Bullshit." you retorted. He slowly tilted his head and smiled as soon as your eyes met. The view was so gorgeous you almost felt like the world was in slow motion.

"You don't have to believe me if you want. Why are you walking with me home anyway. You could've said no. I bet he has some nice fancy car to drive you home." he blurted, fog started to huff out of his mouth as the snow started to fall from the sky.

"Where are you going with this, John?" you spat, letting the emotions get the best of you. If only he was clear enough then this wouldn't have happened.

"I saw the two of you smiling while talking, I thought to myself. Yeah, she's happy with that bloke huh, I wish I knew that before I invited her earlier." he breathed out. You almost felt guilty, but it wasn't your fault. He easily assumed things that weren't even true.

"What made you think we're together? Just because we're smoking together doesn't mean we're in a relationship. Is that what you thought?" you replied, fighting back helping him on his way to the truth.

He paused, it's as if his whole thought process was shattered when your words stung him.

"I got jealous. To be fair, I was gone for 4 years... I always thought you already found someone else within that time." he frowned. It was not usual of him to feel this vulnerable.

"Look-" you tried to explain but you suddenly felt his warm embrace wrapped around you.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered. The same words he said before leaving 4 years ago. The same words that hurt you back then and the same words that's going to hurt you at this moment. He was the one that got away, he was the one whom you shared your most magical moments with, but not the one who's going to be there until the end. He'll have to leave anytime soon, as his job requires him to save the world. You told him he could settle for less risky world saving endeavors but he insisted that this was his purpose. And you were not willing to let him choose again.

"You know... you're not supposed to feel jealousy." you consoled, rubbing his well sculpted back.

"I know... I couldn't help it." he whispered.

"Let's get you home, John." you whisper to him as he pulls away from you, his face pouted like a baby whose candy got stolen.

"Why are you here anyway?" you added.

"I'm getting reassigned to a new task force. I figured I could say goodbye to someone I hold dear." he smirked, he felt normal, but then again you couldn't help but feel that this would be the last time you'll be seeing him. You we're thinking he won't be able to travel freely back here anymore or worse, he'll be the hero the world wanted him to be.

#earthisadonut asks for a fic #horRAYfic #no spoilers in the tags #but aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

117 notes · View notes

karlnapity · 3 years

Text

It Hurts Me Just to Think and I Don't Do Pain

AO3 link TWs: heavy unreality/derealization, vague references to suicidal ideation

George isn’t sure how he got roped into all this, but he’s more than a little stressed and more than a lot confused.

… He really isn’t sure how he got here.

Sapnap and Mexican Dream are talking somewhere to his left, and XD is whispering somewhere to his right, and it’s all so hard to focus that he finds himself breezing through in something of a haze, letting Sap drag him along as they go through the motions of trying to keep up with the eccentricities of MD.

The fuzz gets worse as they near the prison. XD gets louder, drowning out it all. He doesn’t bother fighting it. It fades, briefly, just enough for something something community house and something something Dream, and he welcomes the return of the feeling of just not feeling.

There are some things he doesn’t really need to know.

It’s not really like it’s important after all. It’s more than a little likely this is all a dream, anyways.

It’s getting harder and harder to tell, and the return of ghosts and talk of the afterlife doesn’t quite make it any clearer.

His mind is so foggy, it’s hard to think, hard to move, hard to do much of anything. He wishes Sap would let him go back to bed. He knows, somewhere, that he should care, be as insistent as Sap that they should find Quackity, but it’s so so hard, especially when he can’t tell at all whether it’s real.

He’s kind of given up guessing. It’s a little disconcerting, sure, to go through the motions of an ordinary day or a conversation and end it waking up somewhere he doesn’t remember, but it’s just not worth the effort.

That’s what XD tells him, anyways, and subsequently it’s what he tells himself.

He’s never quite been for going against the grain.

Sap is asking him something, and he offers an eloquent ‘Huh?’, can’t muster up any other words or any effort to move his leaden tongue.

Sap rolls his eyes and pulls on his sleeve to tug him along. It can’t have been that important.

Submitting to the dreams has helped. He’s no longer tired anymore, and even if the fog makes it hard to concentrate and hard to hold a conversation and the whispering sometimes makes him want to slam his hands over his ears it’s so much better than the overwhelming fatigue he felt before.

And, besides, the dreams can be better. Easier. A little less stressful.

“George!” Sap yells, and it all shatters for a minute before the calm blankets him again. It hits so hard it almost knocks him off his feet. He tries to keep his balance, tries to focus on his friend’s face.

“Is it true? Did Quackity destroy Mexican L’Manburg?” There’s a pain in his voice that George recognizes.

Did he?

There was… it was a dream from a while ago. MD and Quackity….. yes, he was there. It was just a dream, right?

‘Don’t want him to think you’re crazy,’ XD says. ‘Best to be quiet.’

It’s an easy compliance. Sap shakes his head with something like faint disgust and George can’t even find it in himself to care much at all.

He should be helping Sap. He should be helping find Quackity. He should be helping with MD. He should be…

What is he even doing?

He rubs his eyes, tries to focus on whatever conversation is happening. He feels XD’s hands heavy on his shoulders, weighing him down. He wants to lay down, settles for sitting on the hard ground.

He runs his hands over the wood beneath him. It’s calming, kind of grounding. The warping on the woods sends his vision swimming, makes it hard to focus, but it’s all okay.

There’s a hand rough on his arm, pulling him up. Someone’s voice- Sap- rings harsh in his ear. XD’s is calming in the other.

He follows along.

Sap lets go of his hand. He looks up, peers at the glittery lights. They’re all so pretty.

There’s something about it that sets off alarm bells, but it’s offset by the way they all look so nice in his kaleidoscopic vision.

He’s so dizzy.

They move on. He’s stumbling. He wants to sleep so bad. He wants this dream to end. He wants Sap to stop being mad at him. He wants MD to stop shouting. He wants Quackity. He wants to sleep. He wants to cry.

MD dies.

This is a dream, right?

This is where he should wake up.

Sap tugs him down so they’re sitting on the balcony where he jumped, legs dangling off the edge, and he angles them so George is leaning his head on his shoulder, so his arms are around George’s shoulders. Their hands tangle in his lap.

Sap is quiet for a long, long time. George lets the floaties in his vision dance, resists the urge to reach out and touch them.

“What’s going on with you?” Sap eventually asks, reaching up a hand and brushing his fingers through George’s hair. George takes his hand before the rhythm puts him to sleep.

“I don’t know,” is all he can say. His voice sounds far away, and he can vaguely tell it’s slurred, his words all running together like he’s hearing them through water.

Sap sighs.

“I’m worried for you.” He pushes George away so he can turn and look at him. He holds their hands together. “You’d tell me if something is wrong, right?”

George watches XD out of the corner of his eye.

He should say something. Something is wrong.

There’s a god following him around. He can’t, doesn’t want to do anything but sleep. He can’t think straight. He’s so tired. He can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. There’s something wrong with him.

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead he just tugs Sap close. They cling to one another.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he says, truthfully. His words are barely incomprehensible. He can barely keep his eyes open.

He digs his fingers into his palm in a last-ditch effort to keep himself awake. Sap uncurls his hands.

“Just tell me,” Sap begs, holding tight. “I can’t lose another friend.”

There’s a small burst of emotion in his chest, so potent that it leaves him gasping before it fades all too fast.

He’s hurting Sap. He knew it, logically, but it still leaves him feeling so very../ disgusting.

He’s such a bad friend. What else would lead to all this?

Sap is all he has left.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers.

Sap cups his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His energy disappears, so fast, leaving him falling as XD snickers. Sap catches him before he can fall off the roof, dragging him back. He shakes him roughly.

The warping of the wood is so interesting, leaves his brain running circles. He blinks and out of consciousness. One second Sap is still shaking him, another he’s sitting next to him. He disappears then he’s back, then he’s saying something to him then he’s so quiet, but it’s never quiet because XD’s there then he swears Quackity is there, then next he wakes he knows that’s ridiculous.

And Sap sticks by him as he lays there.

The sun is rising. It reflects off Kinoko and it’s so pretty, leaves him saying something or other to Sap. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t make any sense at all from the way Sap looks at him.

Then he’s finally awake. It comes on so quickly, leaves him jerking up and gasping, putting a hand to his chest. Sap is by his side as he rubs sleep out of his eyes.

Was it all a dream?

He glances around, but XD isn’t there. The kaleidoscope in his vision is still creeping around his edges, but it feels crystal clear. He gasps a laugh.

He looks up. Sap is grinning, but there’s still a layer of confusion, of pity, of concern.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “What the fuck.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Sap asks. He laughs.

“Not at all.” He lays back on the roof, but this time it’s just to watch the sunrise.

“Hm.” Sap lays down beside him, rests his head on his stomach.

They stay quiet for a while. George pointedly ignores the whispering and the green in the corner of his vision. This is his sunrise.

“Do you think we were always going to be so fucked up?” Sap asks. His voice cracks. George reaches for his hand, holds it tight.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

The clarity holds for a few hours before he turns to talk to Niki and she’s not there. The clarity holds until he wakes up in the forest. The clarity holds until he finds himself talking to a tree and desperately hopes no one saw.

He’s not sure whether the conversation with Sap happened.

He really wants to ask about MD. He doesn’t dare.

He doesn’t care if they found Quackity. He should. He doesn’t. He’s so tired.

Sap is still concerned. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he could get his thoughts in order enough to say. He doesn’t know whether he could stay awake long enough.

It’s worse. He doesn’t know what to do.

He fights to stay awake. He passes out on the Prime path, which is probably some sort of sacrilege. He passes out by the prison and Sam drags him back to Kinoko. He passes out by the crater and Bad gives him a blanket. He passes out by Tommy’s house and Connor gives him a weird look.

He passes out on the bridge in Kinoko and falls into the pool. Sap saves him from drowning.

He hopes that one’s a dream.

He doesn’t leave his room very much anymore.

Sap still tries to drag him out on adventures. He thinks it’s his way of checking up on him. George probably isn’t very coherent.

Sometimes it all makes sense. Sometimes the world is distorted and different colors and floaty and XD is more a part of the conversation than Sap. Sometimes Sap is an animal, or a talking berry bush, or speaking entirely in French.

Sometimes Sap just begs him to say something. Those days are the worst.

He’s pretty sure those days are real.

Sap drags him to Niki’s bakery to get something for his sleep. Something that will help him to stay awake, or something.

His head hurts constantly. Thinking hurts. Feeling hurts. He tries to do neither of them.

Existing hurts.

Niki seems concerned for him. This probably isn’t real. He doesn’t know Niki well. She wouldn’t have much reason to be worried for him.

“Are you awake?” She asks, waving a hand in front of his face. He registers sitting in a booth in her bakery.

Sap sits across from him. He addresses Niki. “I don’t have any idea, anymore.”

She frowns. “His eyes are open.”

He shrugs. “That doesn’t mean much.”

“How long has this been going on?”

He loses focus there. It’s weird to hear them talk like he’s not in the room.

But then again, he isn’t really in the room, is he?

He wants to tell them something, to reassure them, but then again, he doesn’t really know if this is a dream.

He doesn’t want to waste energy on a dream.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary, no talking animals or anything that would register it as a dream. Niki is normal, Sap is normal. But that doesn’t mean much anymore.

He can’t ask them. Dreams never admit themselves as much. Wouldn’t be much point then.

I want to stop dreaming. That’s the only thing he can think.

If he has to sleep, he wants to just sleep.

“George? You okay?”

Somehow it pierces through the haze. He’s able to focus on Sap’s concerned face.

“You okay?” He asks again. He reaches up and brushes George’s face. It’s wet.

He’s crying. He doesn’t remember when he last did that.

“Why are you crying?” Sap asks. “You awake?”

He shakes his head. He hiccups, sobs.

Sap’s sleeve is rough against his face. He takes it, rubs his hands over it in some attempt to ground himself.

The texture is nice. Niki and Sap keep talking over his head as he focuses in on it. At least it keeps him awake.

“Dream,” he murmurs. The constant green shadow is heavy on his shoulders. It hurts. He wants it to stop.

He tries to call him XD. It’s not the same. They’re not the same. But it’s the only thing he can think. They both hurt.

“Sorry, George?” Sap asks. He looks between the two of them. “Did you say Dream? Did he say Dream?”

“He’s not here, George,” he snarls. “Goddammit, let him go, okay? He’s not here. He’s not gonna be here. You’re not gonna see him. Probably not ever, okay? Fuck.”

George shakes his head. He wants to explain. He can’t find the words, the thoughts. His tongue feels heavy.

XD laughs in his peripheral. He covers his ears. It’s only louder.

Is this real?

Is any of it real?

“Sap,” he whines, and the other holds him close.

“I’m here, okay? Whatever you need.”

Consciousness is fleeting.

Thinking hurts. It’s so much easier to give in.

“Come on, George, please.”

His eyes slide closed. XD laughs.

“Just tell me, okay? Anything. I’ll do anything.”

He thinks of MD, so insistent that he had to go back to the afterlife. Maybe he has to go back to his dreams.

Maybe he should stop thinking.

#WOOO i wrote like 3/4s of this tonight #personal #georgenotfound #george lore #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #fanfiction #las nevadas #sapnap #dream #dream xd #dreamxd #niki nihachu #nihachu #mexican dream #quackity #dreamwastaken

35 notes · View notes

osamiiya · 4 years

Text

Pairing: Tendou Satori x Reader

Type of fic: Angst (But make it like, the middle to end)

TW// Death, panic, slight panic attack

Summary: Tendou's in love, and he'll stay in love, because, how could he forget you?

A/n I'm back baby, also I cried while writing this so good luck 🤩

Songs I listened to while writing: Love Like You (Caleb Hyles) , Be my Mistake (The 1975) , Mr Loverman (Ricky Montgomery), Lonely (Noah Cyrus), She used to be mine (Jessie Mueller), Before you go (Lewis Capaldi)

"Satori~" Tendou turns around, grin only growing as he hears your sing song voice call from around the corner.

He watched with bated breath, letting out a soft sigh and a heartwarming smile, as he holds out his hands and pulls you into his chest. Taking a deep inhale and exhale.

"How did you sleep?" His grin is soft, and those who've only seen a sinister smile on his face from volleyball would be surprised at how full of love and adoration it held. Truly, Tendou's paradise from the rest of the world, a breath of fresh air from those who found him creepy or weird.

No, you weren't like them. Ever since the beginning you were always the first to jump in to defend Tendou, who had just started to shrug off the looks and whispers of those around him.

"The best sleep I've ever had."

"Yeah?" Tendou sways the two of you in his arms slightly, his tall and thin frame trying it's best to keep you warm from the fall air.

"I had a nightmare." Tendou hums, clearly not worried about it.

"You did?" Tendou's heart squeezes in a way he can't describe as you look up at him with innocent eyes.

"Yeah, your bus was in a car crash." He hums, chills running down his back as remembers the rush of feelings that accompanied the dream.

"Well, I'm here now, besides it's just a dream." Too engrossed in his conversation with you, Tendou isn't aware of the worried look Semi sends him and then Ushijima.

But before he can formally say anything, Ushijima interrupts him.

"He'll be ok. He always is."

---

Tendou's absolutely sure that the looks he's gotten from people in the halls have passed just staring because he was weird looking, there was some underlying message in the stares now, something he couldn't decode.

"Don't mind them Satori." You tug on his uniform blazer, marching ahead of him slightly, eager to get to the convenience store.

"You know y/n. Eating ice cream in the winter leads to all sorts of bad things." Tendou leans over you as you pick out an ice cream from the ice chest, hands coming to your hips and subconsciously rubbing circles into the uniform fabric as he pretends to compare the different ice cream types, as if he wouldn't get the same ice bar he always got.

Tendou's eyes sparkle with happiness as you pick out a new flavour, turning over your shoulder to smile and show him the ice cream you picked.

As always, Tendou pays. Something about how you can repay him later, maybe when a manga he really wants comes out.

"Satori, do you want to try?" There's a mischievous smirk playing at your lips as you hold out the ice cream. After stopping on a park bench, not to far away from the school, the two of you just couldn't wait to have the slowly melting ice creams.

Instead of licking the ice cream as you expected him to do, Tendou leaned over and planted a kiss on your lips, humming as he pulled back and licked his tongue over his lips, smirking at your bewildered expression.

"Tendou." Ushijima's curt voice pulls both of your attentions away from eachother and to the stoic boy above you.

"Ushiwaka, sorry we didn't get you an ice cream. You don't like them anyways, but I did get you..." Tendou trails off, rummaging through the white plastic bag you had acquired at the store, a polite smile on the underplayed college student's face.

Tendou lets out an 'Ah ha!' as he procures the mint chocolate flavoured protein bar you've seen Ushijima eat during practice before.

Ushijima takes it from Tendou's outstretched hand, a polite and curt thank you as he sits next to Tendou.

"We were about to talk about the literature project." Tendou hums, sending you a wink and taking a careful bite of his ice cream.

"Tendou, y/n is gone." It's like ripping off a bandaid, it hurt to see his best friend push himself deeper into a fantasy he created of his own imagination.

"Silly Ushiwaka, they're right-" Tendou's stomach drops as he turns and sees you with a sad smile spread over your features, eyes glassy.

"No, they're- Ushiwaka they're right here." Tendou's confused, was this a prank?

"Tendou, y/n's bus was in a very bad accident, and they didn't make it out of the hospital." Tendou lets out a dry and nervous laugh.

"No, that was my nightmare last night, there's no way..." Tendou's blood runs cold and his hands are shaking.

'Not my Y/n. He's talking about the wrong Y/n.' Tendou's thoughts are too quick for him to keep up with, quick breaths coming out in short bursts.

Words are trapped in his throat as he looks between you and Ushijima. Ushijima's face uncharacteristically full of pity, and your's sad, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Ushijima I think I need a minute." Ushijima nods at Tendou's serious voice, on the verge of breaking, and gets up, walking a good distance away.

"You're gone?" Tendou's hands are shaking as his voice cracks, wanting to reach out to you.

"Satori, listen to me ok? I love you. Don't ever forget that." A tear rolls down Tendou's face as his thoughts become clearer by the second.

What was once incomprehensible static in his head taking the shape of a word, then two, until they formed a sentence.

'Y/ns gone.'

A sob claws it's way out of Tendou's mouth, and he feels like he's in elementary school again.

"Make sure you don't give Goshiki too much of a hard time ok? He's always trying to impress you guys." Both of your hands are on Tendou's face at this point, and it scares him that he can't feel you, your warmth gone, your presence hanging on by a thread.

"Always eat enough ok? I know you don't have a big appetite, but don't get sick while I'm gone ok? Don't skip out on your meals, please." There's tears running down your face, and Tendou finally notices how you're not really there, tears falling quickly, like rain on the bench.

"You're not here?"

You stop wiping his tears away, giving him a sad smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm at Tokyo Cemetery, darling." A bone shattering shiver rolls through Tendou as he lets out another sob.

"You can't go, I need you." Tendou's shaking, trying to suppress a scream in pain, his body overflowing with realizing and pain.

"You've been in denial Satori." You wipe his tears and leave a kiss on his cheek, and it kills Tendou inside because he can almost feel it. He wants to feel it. Tendou wants to feel your lips on his cheeks.

"Be good ok? Remember how we were going to go to Paris? Take my memory there, take me around Paris using that photo in your wallet. Kiss me goodnight, don't forget me." Your voice is strained and Tendou can't breathe.

"You hear me Satori? Don't forget me, ok?"

"Ok." He manages, it comes out forced , and very much real. A contrast to the life he's continued to live with you in his head, his body and mind now painfully aware that he'd been walking around like a husk of his last self, his mind entertaining the hope and the denial that, you y/n, were still alive. And Tendou could kiss you, and hold your hand, and see you in his jersey one last time.

'Y/ns gone.' And with that Tendou's back to the reality he hates, where you're gone. Tendou can't breathe and his mind feels like it's a tape recorder on 3x speed.

His heart is beating and his hands are grabbing for something to ground him. Seeing his best friend break apart, Ushijima speeds over, taking big steps and allowing Tendou to grip tightly to his shirt, sobbing loudly.

"I didn't get to say goodbye." He chokes out, burying his head into Ushijima's stomach, letting out a yell of pain and heartbreak.

Ushijima feels his heart constrict at the demonstration of his best friend's pain, the red haired boy screaming into his maroon shirt, soaking through the fabric as he rests his hand on Tendou's head, rubbing it in a way he's seen you do it before.

"I loved them and I couldn't say goodbye." Tendou screams, voice raw and filled to the brim with pain, lanky body shaking violently.

"I didn't get to kiss them one last time. I didn't get to tell them I loved them. I never got to take them to Paris like we planned. I never got to give them my volleyball jersey and see them in the stands, cheering for me one last time."

Tendou and Ushijima stay like that for what seems like hours, Tendou buried in his best friend's embrace, needing to be grounded from his raging thoughts.

"I loved them Ushiwaka." Tendou whispers, no longer shaking, voice and eyes hollow.

"I know Tendou." Ushijima tried his best to sound gentle, he knows that Tendou needs it.

"I didn't get to say goodbye." Tendou's like a broken record as Ushijima helps him get off the park bench, plastic bag filled with two uneaten melted ice creams picked up and thrown out.

"We were going to see the eiffle tower." Tendou whispers from his bunk above Ushijima's.

Body heavy with exhaustion, he's about to sleep when he sits up suddenly, hands panicked as he searches for something.

"Tendou?" Came Ushijima's voice from the below bunk.

"My wallet, where's my wallet?" He's stammering and his voice is raw from sobbing and his hands are shaking as he looks.

"Tendou." Comes Ushijima's calm voice as he gently hands Tendou the wallet.

Immediately Tendou opens it, digging through to find the picture he's sure he kept in there.

Pulling it out, he smiles gently, all run out of tears, as he brings the photo shakily to his lips, kissing the photo gently and smiling, looking into your eyes, frozen in time, no idea of the future, just pure happiness.

"Goodnight, my paradise."

---

Permanent Taglist

@sachirou-senpai @prayerofthehaim @ryusex-wife @x-ia-n @wompwomphq @elianetsantana @jovialnoise @yuujiya @peteunderoos @curiouslilbeast

#Anyways what did you think.#*?#tendou angst #tendou x reader #tendou imagine #tendou satori x reader #tendou satori #tendou satori angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #tw// death #tw// panic #tw // panic attack #tendou scenario

296 notes · View notes

crowcryptid · 2 years

Text

2nd play through of infinite is done, skulls grabbed this time.

My opinion is still: I enjoy

Incoherent typing and Spoilers under the read more.

No organization you’re getting pure stream of mind ramblings here

But the feeling of “that’s it? That was everything?” Is still there. And yes I know it’s because a huge chunk of the game was cut. I just hope the dlc stuff is substantial chunks of story. I’d rather wait longer and get a decent chunk vs being drip fed new stuff

Definitely had more fun playing it this time around cause it wasn’t on legendary and I wasn’t fighting for my goddamn life at every moment

Was chillin on easy mode and ripping through it all.

Anyway uh yeah I don’t really have much bad to say about it. I did enjoy :]

Things I wish we had gotten:

to see literally any other character besides the main cast. Alive. I get they wanted to keep it simple and not confuse new people but I’d have liked to see any friendly faces besides the marines and gotten to fight alongside them. But I get it, you’re mostly alone and everyone is gone I know. I know.

I’m just sayin. It could have been something as simple as a squad of ODSTs spawning at FOBs. Just someone other than the marines lol. Not that I don’t like them! I always protect my marines and give them power weapons. I just want more buddies! They don’t even have to be named buddies. I will name them myself

Terminals! Not a single terminal here. Sad times.

More weapons! I want a carbine! I want a saw! Gimme the beam rifle! Also fuck it bring back the flamethrower who give a shid why not. I don’t care if it sucks it would be fun

Also I think there should have been vehicle variants like the weapon variants. And just buff the vehicles in general. They all felt weak except for the scorpion and a fully decked out razorback. Also bring back the hornet I miss you king. 2 rocket marines on the side. The wasp could never. Hornet forever.

More stuff I didn’t like:

1) doesn’t feel like you do.. enough. And by that I mean yes you save the day etc but it’s just missing something. Like the story didn’t move enough. Too much setting up. But knowing we are getting dlc story puts me at ease I suppose. I’m waiting so patiently. :)

2) ok so. I do like the weapon. But I felt like the reveal that she was “cortana” was like. Not a reveal? I mean I didn’t think she was exactly the same. I thought she was just a new ai made from the halsey brains blue team got in SoR. I thought it was more of a “they’re like sisters” kind of deal but whatever. Not really a complaint I just thought it was a little weird. I was just like. Uh well. Ok

3) spartan killers were a bit disappointing. Specifically jega. You weren’t supposed to die king. I was going to fix you <3 I really was hoping he would actually be hunting you during the campaign and maybe you do a small fight vs him before he runs off.

4) needs more biomes! Weather! More varied areas! I want snow! Desert! Beaches!

Stuff I did like: mr pilot i would die for you and I’m glad Chief agrees

Also chiefs energy in this game.. oh it’s good. That’s my guy right there. He’s not ok. But he keeps going. I do think they went a little too much on the one liners. Like yes I get that’s kind of his deal But it’s different in 2/3 cause he barely talks in those so it’s allowed lol. But other than that I think it’s a happy middle ground between the more talkative 4 Chief and nearly silent bungie era. And can we please talk about how he completely avoids personal questions the entire time. Sweety. What IS wrong with you. Are you okay? No. Ur not. Also I really like how he is with the pilot. It was nice. They hug :] I smiled like an idiot both times I saw it. Also there’s a few moments where he speaks so softly and i screaming and yelling and hollering- if you played it u know what I’m talking about it’s when he and the weapon are going through the data near the end of the game

Anyway I can keep going but I am incomprehensible and yelling and I love my giant green metal husband but I think he needs to rest for real. The fight is being finished since 2007

Maybe I will change my blog title. It’s been that since like. 2016? 2017? But if I do change it. Later. Ce

#halo #halo infinite #if you read this I’m sorry this is how thoughts appear in my head #i can type whatever and however I want you can’t stop me #as for now. no third play through planned. maybe when co-op comes out.

11 notes · View notes

laurensprentiss · 3 years

Text

Jouska [Hotch x Reader]

Chapter 7:

Warnings: Panic attacks, anxiety, lots of angst. Emily Prentiss’ cameo! Will reader ever catch a break? Doutbful.

Word Count: 3,842 (It’s a long but a good’un)

———

Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition.” - James Baldwin

———

You’ve been operating on autopilot since that day. For around a week and a half now, you work from home, run your errands, come home and find yourself staring into nothing, sitting in your apartment alone. You’ve been dodging calls from Hotch, your dad, Emily and now your ex, too, since he’d been back in town.

You’d stormed out of the building that day on wobbly legs, willing yourself not to buckle or fall on the floor, your breath shaky and shallow. You’d somehow managed to keep your composure in the cab home, staring out of the window, your brain feeling like static, incomprehensible, confusing and far too busy.

You were surprised though, at your outward composure, surprised that you hadn’t even felt the need to cry, not even so much as a lump in your throat anymore. The adrenaline had seemed to be wearing off on the journey home, you’d even give a weary smile to the cab driver as you got out of the car. But you’d been so preoccupied with your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the same black sedan from earlier that day, tailing your cab again.

Once you’d finally keyed your door closed, though - you’d sunk to the cold tile of your apartment floor and let the shame and embarrassment of your naivety wash over you, cursing yourself repeatedly, sick with rage. Not rage towards Hotch, or McCall. Rage towards yourself. Furious that you’d even let yourself entertain any sort of delusion about Hotch, that you’d even allowed a flutter of hope to bloom in your chest.

Mortified that he’d been actively avoiding you while you’d been waiting for the phone to ring, like some desperate, naive little girl.

You’d cried then, which had only infuriated you more. What did you have to cry about? He didn’t owe you anything. He had a job, and he was doing it well, considering he’d been the one to draw up the profile. He had a whole life, a past with Haley, and most likely, a future with her, too.

You’d heard a knock on the door behind you that had startled you in the midst of the tears streaming down your cheeks. You’d heard Hotch’s voice call your name from behind the door and you’d had to fight to not gasp or cry even more as he’d called out to you.

“Please. Just let me in. Please just let me explain myself.” He’d pleaded. He didn’t quite understand what he would say even if you did open the door, but the desperation he felt to see you, to just say something that wasn’t met with anger by you, far outweighed any rational thought he could muster right now.

You’d clasped both hands over your mouth and brought your knees to your chest to stop any sound from escaping, willing yourself to hold your ground just this once. To pull back some respect for yourself, to try and grasp at anything that would let you feel like you were on even footing again.

“Please? I can hear you in there, you can yell at me, hit me, scream at me, just please let me say what I need to say to you!” You’d just held your breath and focused on the rise and fall of your chest to keep yourself grounded, your eyes closed.

No.

You’d heard some shuffling and muffled voices through the door, Agent McCall’s voice familiar to you at this point. You’d listened hard as you’d heard him tell Hotch to leave.

“Ben-”

“Now.” His voice was stern. “Go talk to Barnes. I’ll handle things here.”

He’d hesitated for a moment against the door before he’d finally left, his body weighed down with the immense guilt, his stomach like concrete.

This wasn’t going to go away.

Once you were sure he’d left, you’d gathered yourself up off the floor and splashed some water on your face, willing the puffiness in your cheeks and eyes to subside. In your vulnerability, you’d felt intensely alone and mistakenly picked up the phone, needing a friend to confide in.

“Hello?”

“Jordan?”

“Yeah? Who’s this?”

“It’s me.” You could hear the gears turning in his head. You’d said your name through the phone and he chuckled.

“Hey. I wasn’t expecting your call. How’ve you been?”

“Can you come over?” You’d said abruptly.

He paused. There was no answer for a while and you’d had to look at the phone, to double-check it hadn’t been disconnected.

“Hello?”

“I- yeah. I’m on my way. See you soon, babe.” You’d shuddered slightly at his pet name for you, you never had liked it when you were together and it had felt even stranger now. But you needed someone to help you through this, and he was nothing if not familiar, even if you hadn’t worked out the first time.

Unbeknownst to you, though. Hotch had stayed parked across the road and had seen Jordan enter your apartment building around thirty minutes later. He’d frowned and leaned across the console to watch the figure walk into the lobby right as he’d seen your apartment lights turn on. He’d turned his attention to your apartment window then, as you’d drawn your curtains, the sight of you making his breath catch. He’d gripped the steering wheel tight as he’d maneuvered himself to desperately get a better view of you, only to see Jordan behind you as you’d pulled the fabric closed, his heart dropping and a lump forming in his throat.

He’d never even had you, but he’d lost you.

———

You give yourself a once over in the mirror again , dusting off some lint that isn’t really there off of your dress, turning to make sure that it fits right. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you step out of your bedroom.

“Ready, ma’am?” Agent McCall asks.

You simply nod and grab your purse as Agent McCall leads the way out of the door, confirming the address of the bistro over his earpiece. You have a strange knot in your stomach, the kind that develops when you have to see an old friend who you’ve lost touch with. The kind that develops when you have a psycho stalker and you’re estranged and furious at the one person who’d slowly become your comfort.

You’d decided that you had to try to make an attempt, a real effort to keep the small number of friends you did have, finally taking Emily’s calls and even proposing lunch. She’d responded excited, and had taken care of the reservations for you, said it’d be her treat.

You glance up towards agent McCall, a question bubbling up in your chest, but you lose your nerve at the last minute. He spots you from the corner of his eye but doesn’t attempt to respond or invite further questions, simply setting the SUV into drive and taking off. You bite the inside of your cheek, repeatedly looking at your watch, your index finger scratching divots into the side of your thumb. As you pull up to the restaurant, you spot two undercovers on either side of the block. MPD, you deduce.

Agent McCall opens your door for you, confirming something on his earpiece as he escorts you out. “I’ll be waiting right here, Agent Hotchner will be here soon to relieve me, so he’ll be escorting you back, ma’am.” He rattles it off like a rehearsed speech, but there’s a hint of levity in his voice.

Your head whips towards his direction. “Hotchner? No, he’s not on my detail anymore.” You quip back, the panic and excitement making for a strange cocktail.

“As of this morning, he is.” He ducks his head. “I’m sorry, I know what happened and I completely respect that, but the Ambassador made the decision and Barnes agrees. I’m sorry ma’am.”

Your chest flutters slightly at that, futile excitement, dread and anxiety spreading to your bones at the thought of seeing Hotch for the first time in so long. You huff and take his hand.

“We’re not done with this.” You mutter to him.

You turn to find Emily’s dark eyes watching you from the outdoor seating area of the restaurant as you cross the road, squinting slightly as if to see if it’s really you. When you laugh, she immediately sets her napkin down on the table, and shouts your name, her arms outstretched almost immediately, her face breaking out into a grin.

Oh Emily.

You close the gap between you, taking quick little steps in an awkward kind of run, as you meet her hug, her body almost crushing you. Air leaves your chest in a whoosh as you both laugh, rocking slightly to catch your balance. She rubs your arms up and down when she finally releases you, leading the way to your table. “Oh! It’s so good to see you!” She breathes.

You immediately relax, the dread and nervousness washing away. No matter how long it goes between visits with Emily, you could probably always count on the fact that you’d pick up right where you left off. You felt almost silly now for even thinking it’d be any different. The stress of the past month melts away and you finally feel at ease for the first time in a long time.

“It’s good to see you too!” You laugh, sitting back. You chance a quick glance over the SUV, but you give yourself away. Emily follows your eyes and spots Agent McCall parked on the other side of the road, watching you.

“Hey. What’s with the goon squad?” She points her head to the left to point to McCall, glaringly obvious that he’s there to watch you. “I spotted two UC’s a block away too.” She questions.

You sigh. It’s not really a question you can avoid, besides, she’s a close friend and confidante. And she’s so sharp, always aware of her surroundings - almost unsettlingly so. But if anybody could relate, it would be her. You briefly explain that somebody had been leaving you notes and gifts for a while which is why-

“You didn’t go to college this year - that’s right.” She nods, finishing your sentence for you. She winces slightly with sympathy as the pieces fall into place for her. She shakes her head in disbelief. “I- how long?” She asks. Her eyebrows are pulled together, her brown eyes wide and vulnerable.

“Since last summer. Dad had some old friends with the FBI so they're my security until we catch him, I guess.” You pick at a hangnail, the reality of the situation making your heart sink more every day.

“I'm sorry.” She exhales. “First a breakup, then your father’s whole heart scare, and then this?”

You look up at her. “How did you know about Dad?”

“Ambassador Prentiss.” She laments, sarcastically.

“Ah.”

“Mother had her aide get in touch when she didn’t hear back from your father.” Her voice softens as she reaches her hand across the table to stop you from ripping the skin straight off your finger. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I may not have been much help, but I’m always here to listen. You gotta reach out more.”

A lump forms in your throat as you come to the crushing realisation that you didn’t really have many friends at all, no real friends of substance that you could really confide in, anyway . Sure, you had society friends, acquaintances, the children of other DC officials but your heart sinks. You have nobody except your father and Emily - and your father, well. He wouldn’t be around forever.

You squeeze her hand back and thank her, retreating back to your lap and scratching your thumb again, toying with the skin. Her eyebrows quirk as she watches you, aware of your nervous tics.

“What is it?”

You snap your head up. “Hm? What? Oh- nothing.”

“Don’t even. I know when you’re lying. What is it?” Her eyebrows raise, the way they do when she challenges someone. She did always have the uncanny ability to see right through people.

You sigh. “Fine. It’s about the breakup.” She slumps back in her seat and rolls her eyes, her head shaking.

“You did not. Tell me you didn’t.”

“Don’t kill me. But, around two weeks ago, I kinda slept with Jordan.” You wince.

She inhales sharply through her teeth, shaking her head. “Come on. I thought you knew better! Why would you do that? He’s nothing but trouble.”

“I. I don’t know, it’s a long story. I haven’t seen him since, though.” You try to justify to her with a laugh, throwing your hands up in defence. “He keeps trying to call, but I just let it go to voicemail. If anything, I remembered why we didn’t work the first time around.”

“Uh huh.” She raises her eyebrows and huffs out a laugh. “Good. He gives the creeps.” She mutters.

You let out a laugh then, a real laugh and you can’t remember the last time you felt this light. You think for a split second about how you did feel this light and happy around Hotch despite the impending danger, but you erase the thought from your mind quickly, refusing to allow yourself to go down that road again.

The mere split second thought makes your chest drop, though - another wave of sadness washing over you just as quickly, and it’s only exacerbated by the fact that you’re going to have to face him soon. Your emotions seemingly do a rapid 180.

You feel grateful to be here with Emily, with someone to talk to, but the hole that you’d tried to fill with Jordan a week ago had only left you feeling more empty and dissatisfied with your life. You’d asked him to go home later that night, unable to look at him, or yourself. All you could think about was how Hotch was probably happy, living in domesticity with his first love and you were spending the night alone - again, while someone out there probably wanted you dead.

You flash Emily a quick smile and excuse yourself to the ladies’ room as she carefully watches you enter the restaurant. Once inside you try your best to hold in the tears, the harsh lighting oddly illuminating the top of your face, washing you out. You grip the edges of the cool sink, trying to even your breathing but the tears come as though they have a life of their own, falling down your cheek.

Your eyes sting and your chest burns as you finally let yourself cry again, you feel it long overdue, the loneliness, the isolation, the danger. All of it rearing its ugly head. You try to stifle the sobs from your chest, desperate whimpers escaping from your throat as it gets harder and harder to breathe.

A door handle turning suddenly startles you, making you jump. You clear your throat, your voice coming nasally. “Occupied.”

Loud knocks come this time, making rapid contact with the wood on the other side. “I said it’s occupied!” You call out, louder this time.

It’s silent for a moment before loud thumps and grunts come from the other side, as your heart drops, your knees weak. Your wide eyes dart around the bathroom when the door starts to heave, the hinges rattling as the person on the other side attempts to break it down.

You back away with shaky legs, trying to get as far away from the door as possible. You don’t even realise when you start screaming for help, the noise in the bathroom rising, suffocating you. A high pitched whine penetrates your skull, your hands and face sweaty, heart thrumming as you shake. Your vision tunnels and you feel nausea rising in your stomach.

The thumping suddenly subsides, a breathy laugh coming from the other side, as you fall to the floor, the cold hard tile against the back of your thighs. You find it hard to breathe, your vision is clouded by black spots, and you realise you’re still calling out for help, your voice screeching.

“Ma’am?” A young woman’s voice comes from the other side. “Ma’am are you in there?” She asks, panic rising in her voice.

You hear Hotch’s voice on the other side, speaking to the woman, followed by the sound of keys. Relief washes over you temporarily but you can’t bring yourself to get up or even move slightly, your body frozen. The young woman manages to open the door after shakily fumbling with the keys, Hotch brushing past her.

The sight of you on the bathroom floor, sweaty, cried out and so vulnerable does something to him he can’t quite explain. You’re curled into a ball in the corner of the bathroom under the sink, your knees against your chest, your hands clutching your head as you rock slightly. He’s furious and devastated in equal measure, doesn’t quite know how to proceed. Protocol dictates he ask you what happened, take you to a secure location, obtain evidence.

Screw protocol.

He gets down on your level, shrugs off his suit blazer and wraps it around you, not bothering to move you off the wall, the blazer covering you like a blanket. He whispers off the young employee to block off the bathroom area, his hand reaching up to push some matted hair off your face.

He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, the question entirely redundant if your current state is anything to go by. Figures it’s futile, patronising, even.

“Hey, it’s me. Can you hear me?” He whispers. Your eyes are still closed and you’re hyperventilating, droplets of sweat on your forehead as you rock back and forth. He hesitantly brings his other hand to your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek. “Hey.”

You hold onto his forearm. “Aaron?”

“Come here.”

You close the small amount of distance between you and lean forward to throw yourself into his arms, hanging onto his shoulder as sobs wrack your body. His arms awkwardly wrap around you, his blazer and your legs in the way, but he holds you close nonetheless, his hand running up and down your back as he shushes you. He remembers reading once, that even pressure around the ribs can help with nervous system dysregulation so he squeezes tight, whispering encouragement into your ear.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. I got you. Breathe with me.” He doesn’t let go as he breathes exaggeratedly, wanting you to take his lead. His presence allows you to find a tandem with the rise and fall of his chest while he rubs smooth lines up and down your back. “That’s good, you’re doing really good, sweetheart.”

He has a lump forming in his throat and rage bubbling in his chest. He thanks God that he’d arrived here just in time and made the decision to run into the restaurant to speak to you when he did. He’d heard the sound of you screaming from the back of the restaurant right as he was about to ask the waitress if she’d seen you, and saw red as he’d sprinted through the booths and tables to get to you.

He was going to kill this son of a bitch.

You fall limp in his arms as your breathing regulates, your chest and the back of your throat aching like you just ran a marathon - your head feels like a brick. You let your eyes flutter closed and bury your face into the crook of Hotch’s neck, inhaling his scent. You remember back to the day you first met, almost four months ago now, the cold Virgina air, the rain, the way he’d given you his blazer - your body relaxes slightly.

The noise of the hustle and bustle outside the bathroom area starts to become louder as you finally start feeling present again, feeling returning to your hands and feet.

You hear a familiar voice right outside. “You need to let me in, it’s my friend in there.” You blink your eyes open.

Ma’am. It’s a crime scene, I’m afraid you can’t go in there.” A stern voice replies.

“What? A- a crime scene? Let me through.” She says defiantly.

Emily.

You hear a commotion and footsteps approaching, a shadow getting bigger as you release yourself from Hotch’s arms, using the back of your hand to wipe your face. She appears in the doorway then, a horrified look on her face as she gasps, the waiter trailing behind her, an embarrassed look on his face.

Hotch turns to look at her and back at you, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you, concern etched on his face as you communicate wordlessly.

He raises his eyebrows.

You okay?

You nod.

Yeah.

“Honey.” She gasps. Hotch moves over to the side, standing up and offers Emily a tight smile as he brushes off his pant legs and hands. She sinks to her knees on the floor, sitting next to you, her arm around your shoulder, inviting you close to her. Her other hand rubs your thigh gently, and you lay your head on her shoulder, your hands wrapping around the one she has in your thigh and you squeeze. Her other hand gently brushes over your hair, as she inhales and exhales with you, her comforting presence something that you’d been sorely missing.

Hotch signals to excuse himself to Emily and she just nods, allowing him to leave. She doesn’t ask what happened, she doesn’t speak, she doesn’t move. Just offers herself to you as her heart breaks a little at the sight of you.

It’s around ten minutes later that Hotch returns, voices overlap through police radios as he shoos a police officer away. He crouches down to your level, a small smile on his face.

“Hey.” He rubs a hand on your shin. “We ready to go?”

You heave a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, get me the hell out of here.” You huff. You glance at Emily. “You're coming right?”

“Of course.” She whispers with a smile, her hand squeezing yours. “I’m gonna grab some stuff from my place first, okay? I can be at yours in an hour.”

You nod. Hotch holds out his hand to help you up, collecting his blazer and draping it around your shoulders, rubbing them as he does, to reassure you. He places a hand on the small of your back, nodding at the waiter as he shows the three of you out of the back exit, Emily walking behind you. Hotch’s car is parked right outside the service entrance in the back alleyway, and you smile up at him, thankful that you wouldn’t have to walk out to the front again.

“I’ll see you soon, honey.” Emily hugs you as you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing tight. She places a protective kiss on your temple and nods at Hotch as she walks around to get her car. You watch her turn the corner and take a deep breath.

“Hey. Let’s get you home.”

———

< Prev | > Next

------

Tags: Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

@oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @dinopossum @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy @euphoricmidoriya @archiveofadragon @yoshigguk @swiftingday @jeor @ivebeenthinkingboutu @bauslut @vashanatasha

#aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch smut #hotch fluff #hotch #cm fanfic #cm fic #cm fic rec #criminal minds

107 notes · View notes