#not super thrilled w the colours but whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ninja-scenarios · 3 years

Text

Spa day w/ Illumi ✨🐰

I started writing this a month ago so it still says “15th of Christmas” pls bear with me lol

This is part of a Illumi/Hisoka/reader poly relationship! But there won´t be any Hiso in this, sorry! I have another fic planned tho so pls anticipate it :)))

Now I can´t stop imagining Illumi with a bunny ears headband... uwu

Support me on Ko-fi | Masterlist | My AO3

„What is this?“

- „A jelly peeling.“

„And this?“

- „A brush used for applying skin masks, so you don´t have to use your hands.”

You beamed with anticipation. This year, you had decided that it was time to show the boys how to make a couple-advent-calendar. A collection of 24 enjoyable things you could do together. And here it was. The 15th, “spa day”.

Hisoka was out, so you´d grabbed Illumi and dragged him into your study in what had to be the most comfortable kidnapping in history. He actually behaved very well, and you had the slight suspicion that he already enjoyed this.

“First is a headband.”

After you´d both taken a steaming hot bath together and rose from it super relaxed, you slipped a bunny-ear headband onto your boyfriend. Illumi turned to view himself in the make-up mirror. The feeling of something restricting yet comfortable was new to the assassin. The headband wasn´t meant to hurt him or for training, just to hold his hair out of his face. It felt... good. And the light pink went beautifully with his crème bathrobe.

“Look! You look like a bunny now!”

“Is that good?”

“It means you´re very cute and I like it.”

“Ah.”

“My cute little bun bun~”

While Illumi was admiring himself in the mirror, you had to resist the urge to braid his luscious hair, simply gathering it in a ponytail and then taking a seat in front of him.

Illumi´s mind wandered to the rest of the bathroom. You really had taken the time to tidy and clean everything and even decorate. Everything smelled so good! The light-scented candles held a soothing glow and they smelled sweet, as if Illumi just had to stick out his tongue and receive candy. You had placed them on every available surface, creating a big palette of colours that put his mind at ease. The products sitting neat next to them had big beautiful names and colourful packaging. Together with the tasteful instrumental music they made Illumi feel something he didn´t before. A thrill of anticipation.

“We´re starting off with a cleanser.”

Illumi´s watchful unblinking eyes followed every step of the routine. He sat there a little stiffly in a tailor-fashion, yet it reminded you fondly of a watchful cat. Or bunny, in this case. The outfit was so cute on him! It was a pity he wouldn´t let you take a picture.

You started to apply the soap-like foam onto his face with gentle care. Your nails were cut short just for this occasion and the way you worked the product into his skin was light and even. Your touch made him want to flinch, with how light and gentle it was, yet Illumi willed himself to hold still.

When would it start to sting? Illumi anticipated the pain, yet he trusted you. Whatever would happen, whatever would come, he wouldn´t flinch away. Even if you hurt him, he would be able to take it.

“Is this okay?”

“It is.”

You watched Illumi for signs of discomfort, a little concerned since he still wasn´t able to relax. It looked like he was preparing for the worst, even though you had mobilized everything to arrange a relaxing spa day... Ye the longer you brushed over his face, the heavier his eyelids became.

“Do you like it?”

“...”

His eyes closed and he started to relax. His shoulders became heavy, his hands slipped from his thighs into his lap where they loosely intertwined.

“Lumi?”

“Mh.”

Illumi wondered, when was the last time someone had taken care of him that way?

There was a memory from when he was about 3. He had fallen face first into the mud while running. Branches and dirt and pebbles had hurt his skin, yet by this age he had already learned not to cry. Illumi tried to remember. Had he already been numb to pain then?

One of the pebbles had lightly pierced through his cheek, resulting in an ugly wound that started to bruise. His mother had started yelling, fussing over his face and ushering him inside. She´d been angry and Illumi had felt responsible, mentally preparing himself for punishment. But then she had sat him down in her room, in her high chair in front of her vanity and tended to the wound under his eye with maybe the tenderest care he had ever seen in her.

“Illumi? I said do you want to wash your face yourself or do you want me to do it for you?”

You giggled when Illumi´s dark eyes shot back to your face. He had been zoning out for a while, probably lulled in by the soothing patterns on his face. For a second he just stared at you.

At you or at his mother, who had been wearing her hair down, then. Her beautiful locks of hair were black as night, just as his. His mother´s fussing had made him feel important, cared for.

“You do it.”

There was no force between his words. They came out slowly, eyes trained on your face as you smiled. Wordlessly you took a fluffy white washcloth and dipped it into a bowl with warm water.

“Close your eyes.”

You gently took a hold of his chin, just so much so that it would stay in place, as you began cleaning off the product. Illumi´s skin felt different now. Smoother, but dry.

“Next up is exfoliating!”

With far more fun that you´d imagined, you started rubbing the gel peeling into his skin. You had seen an instruction in a youtube tutorial earlier that day. When your thumbs brushed over his cheekbones in a circular pattern, Illumi let his eyes slip shut. You kept working gently on his face, eradicating non-existent little bumps and imperfections on his perfect glass skin. It was probably owed to his perfect diet and frequent intake of water... sometimes you were so jealous of that wonderful bastard.

Meanwhile Illumi thought about the pattern you used for the massage. Half a circle...

´Illumi. Keep up!´

His father had drawn the same pattern on the mat with his bare foot when he drew it back. Illumi hadn´t known then, that he´d done it to gain force and use it to punch his son square in the jaw.

`If you can´t evade my fist, how will you defend yourself against an enemy who attacks from the front? Illumi, they won´t have mercy like me. That is your first lesson.´

It had been the first time his father had openly punched him. Illumi had trembled in pain, holding his cheek with his tiny hand while trying to swallow his sobs.

`I trusted you, papa. I never thought... I never thought you would hurt me.´

Illumi´s eyes shot back open. His hands were gripping both your wrists, thumbs pressing into your palms and tilting them back.

A little gasp escaped Illumi´s mouth. His ears still rang with the blow of his father´s fist. Only after the noise had subsided did he notice.

In the same second he released you immediately. His heart beat wildly in his chest, spurring him on to fight, even though there was no actual danger. Even though you had never done anything to hurt him.

Your hands, they were so gentle, so soothing. They had brought him nothing but joy. There was no doubt in his mind that you were harmless.

“I should leave.”

He didn´t want to see your face, he couldn´t. After all, he had brought you damage. A flaw in a perfect system. Even though Illumi couldn´t decide if the flaw was his self-control or letting you close in the first place.

You went after him, grabbing onto his sleeve in the doorway.

“Illumi, listen to me.”

He didn´t move a muscle. He should go back home. His father would fix him. That was if he could forget you.

“I know it wasn´t the best idea to sit in front of you and repeatedly touch your face while you´re feeling vulnerable. I know you. I know have those patterns.”

Why did you have to say these words? They cut right into his soul with how true you were. It was unbearable yet Illumi couldn´t bring himself to walk away. Why couldn´t he just leave?

“Illumi...I want to walk through them together with you and for us to create new ones. New patterns, new memories, new routines.”

Why had he let a civilian come into his life? The needle he´d grabbed on instinct in his other hand when he´d grabbed you had almost come in contact with your skin. But you hadn´t even noticed.

“Don´t be a fool. I hurt you. It´s like father said. He let me live my own life, knowing I´d make a mistake and realize that there is only one way.”

Slowly, you walked around until you faced him.

“Illumi. Look at me.”

Reluctantly, the black-haired man raised his gaze. His eyes looked wet with frustration.

“You aren´t flawed. You´ve been put in a system where being perfect is unachievable. But look.”

You outstretched your hands, palms up. Upon further inspection, there were no bruises. No marks. Not even a red tint from where he had grabbed your wrists.

“You never hurt me, Illumi. Your grip was so gentle, somehow you must´ve known it was me. You see? There is no flaw.”

You beamed up at him.

“For me, you´re perfect. I love you, Illumi. I wouldn´t want you any other way.”

There was no flaw... he hadn't actually hurt you. Illumi's initial frustration started dripping down his cheeks.

For a long time, he wouldn´t let go.

With the utmost care he wrapped you in a hug, burrowing his face against your hair.

"Thank you. For letting me stay."

#Illumi #Illumi x reader #Illumi Zoldyck x reader #hxh #Illumi scenario #Illumi headcanon #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #hxh scenarios

379 notes · View notes

marmolady · 3 years

Text

Growing Pains: Part Three

PART ONE PART TWO

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. For Liv and her mothers, Taylor and Estela, a turbulent period of transition is afoot. Set primarily in the distant future of 2033.

Word Count: 5678

More Liv fics here: Livita, Teething Problems, Milestones and Memories, Mutual Comfort, All That Matters

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @mrsmontoya, @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @quinnkellys-wife, @greengroove

La Huerta, 2033

The sun slowly began to set, and a cool breeze came in from the sea. The reunion was in full swing, and Taylor, had found her way poolside, the traditional centre of all activity. The energy all around her was wonderfully refreshing after all the time she’d spent hiding herself away from the world; the sounds of the most familiar of voices as her friends caught up with one another, therapeutic. She was far too much of an extrovert to isolate herself; she knew that now.

Sitting down at the bar, it only took a few skilled flourishes of bottles before Raj was handing her a signature drink.

“It’s been a little while since I’ve had one of these,” she laughed. The joys of pregnancy. Worth it, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t a little relieved it was all over in time for the reunion. “Mm, that’s fruity! And just the right amount of kick to it. I say this every year, but you really do know me.”

“Another happy customer at the BhandarBar? You know there’s nothing I’d rather hear!” Raj beamed. He came around the bar and sat beside Taylor, sensing a need in her. “I feel like we haven’t hung out in ages-- last time I saw you, you had a baby on board. How has life been treating you, Taylor, my friend?”

“Oh, you know. My whole body gearing up for looking after baby, and then trying to tell it ‘no, that’s not what’s happening, here’; that’s been a bit of a challenge. My mood swings have been epic. I know she already did deserve one, but christ, Estela deserves a medal. Liv as well. I swear I’ve been like a walking hormone or something.”

“Well, if you need someone to lay it all on….”

He didn’t even get to finish. Taylor had her arms around him, hugging him tight. Where the tears were coming from now, she didn’t quite know. Maybe it was just a release of everything she’d been carrying these past months. But come they did, thick and fast.

“That’s it, bro. Let it all out. I’ve got plenty of shirts if you get boogers on this one--”

Taylor spluttered, laughing until she made herself choke and cough. “I don’t even know why I’m crying! That’s just me right now. A little bit useless.” Well, if you talk like that, you’re gonna be sobbing all night.

“You? Never. We have witnesses! You are definitely not useless. You just need a bit of Taylor Time right now. You’re allowed to take some Taylor Time.”

“For how long?” Taylor sighed. “Liv’s only nine-- sorry, nine and three-hundred-and-sixty-four days. That distinction is important to her. But she needs me. My body’s all geared up to be a mom, but with Liv I feel like I just can’t do anything. Some days I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“Trust me. I’ve had those days. You know I’ve had those days. And listening when your mind and body need a rest isn’t a bad thing. If Liv was feeling the way you were, what would you have her do?”

Taylor pouted. “Who told you you could use my double standards to pep talk me? Fine! I’d tell her to be kind to herself. Every time.”

“So. What are you going to do?”

“Be… kind to myself,” Taylor said begrudgingly. Damn you, Raj. I can’t argue with that logic.

“We’re going to home-school Livi. For a year, use that time to reassess where we want to be in life. I’m a little nervous, but… I like that I’m going to be more proactive in her life. I’m glad I had Michael; having him was one of the best things I’ve ever done, but I want to be able to put my energy into Liv, and Estela, our little unit. Mostly, I’m excited. I am so, so ready to feel like a mom again.”

“Aw, Taylor-baby, you always were. But I getcha, sometimes you kind of lose a part of yourself in all that life throws up. And whatever life wants to throw at Liv, you guys got her back. She’s done all right for herself with you two.”

Exhaling, wiping away those stupid tears-- hadn’t she cried enough?-- Taylor nestled into a warm hug. Raj was a talented man, but no more so than in his ability to make everything feel all right. Together, her family had weathered many storms, and their bond would carry them through any still to come.

_____________________________

La Huerta, 2027

A resounding crack of lightning had Liv dive under the blankets, shaking in her Batman pyjamas. To her, it felt as though the storm had been raging for hours. Never had she heard the sky sound so angry. She burrowed under her Mama Estela’s arm.

“Mommy, it’s so loud,” she whimpered.

“I know, mija,” Estela said gently, stroking her four-year-old daughter’s hair. “But it can’t hurt us in here. Our house is strong and safe.”

The creaking of wood in the wind made Liv nervous. If the house was safe, why did it have to complain so much? Was it trying to scare her?

“It’s okay, Livi-sweetie,” Taylor soothed. “We’re all gonna sit this one out together.”

The family trio were sharing the big queen-size bed, Liv tucked up snuggly between her two mothers. There had been no talk of attempting to settle Liv in her own room; she was distressed, and that meant she could take security in the maternal bed.

As the howling wind became a frightening roar, Liv whined softly. At the foot of the bed, the little dog, Fenix, was sleeping soundly. Fenix didn’t have the best of hearing, which on this occasion struck Liv as quite lucky. The cat, Madam Mierdita, seemed more grumpy at the disturbance than frightened, growling and changing colours with every scary rumble.

“Hey, Liv,” Taylor said cheerily, hoping her easy tone would lessen the tension, “Knock, knock!”

Liv peered over the covers. Was now really the time? She’d humour her silly Mama Taylor. “Who’s there?”

“Europe.”

“Europe, who?” Liv asked, then her eyes went wide and she gave a shout of laughter. “Ha! You’re a poo, Mama Taylor!”

“No, you’re a poo!” Taylor chuckled. Saved, once again, by some good old fashioned toilet humour.

Estela rolled her eyes and shook her head exaggeratedly. “Oh, cariňa, you blow me away with your comedic wit.”

“Yeah!” Liv affirmed enthusiastically, apparently still oblivious to the art of sarcasm. “It was super funny!” She flinched at another crash of lightning, but didn’t hide under the covers.

“Well, my fan club, here comes another one!” Taylor smirked at Estela’s dramatic groaning. If it eased Liv’s fear, they could and would do this for hours. “Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?”

“I dunno, Mommy. W-why?” Liv asked, her voice wavering as a rumble of thunder seemed to shake the very earth. But if the world was ending, it would surely wait to hear the rest of Mama Taylor’s joke first.

“To get to the bottom!”

On queue, Liv squealed with laughter. “You said ‘bottom’!”

“You know, Taylor, I’m sensing a theme here.”

“Hey-- toilet jokes aren’t my favourite, but they’re a solid number two!”

“Dios mío! Why do I feel like I’m in for a long night?” Estela reached to tickle Taylor’s belly, which served to push Liv ever deeper into her giggle fit. She could never adequately express just how grateful she was that their daughter had that gorgeous dork to see her through the scary times. Don’t you ever change, mi amor.

The storm raged on. Cocooned together in their humble sanctuary, the small family saw it out-- or at least, Taylor and Estela did. Liv nodded off amid the thunder and the lightning, the wind and the rain… safe in her mothers’ arms.

_______________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Livi-- be careful!”

“I am careful!” Liv hollered down from a towering palm tree. She had everything under contro--

There was a thud, and the squeak of breath being forced from Liv’s lungs as she hit the ground hard.

“Ow.”

Taylor rushed over, but her view was quickly blocked by young Isla, who had gotten there first.

“Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt, Isla. See?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Can you move all your arms and legs?”

“Yes!”

“On a scale of one to ten--”

Taylor cut in, feeling simultaneously relieved and incredibly fond of her friends’ little nurse in training. “Thanks, Isla, sweetheart. I think we’re good from here. Right?”

Liv scowled and jumped to her feet as if nothing had happened. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Oh, Livita, foiled again by your old friend, gravity?” Estela laughed from her comfortable spot on the beach. She’d seen Liv through enough bumps and scrapes to know when there was nothing to worry about.

Taylor snorted, and ruffled Liv’s short hair. “Gravity’s a bitch. Try and respect her in the future, okay?”

Gravity wasn’t just a bitch. Gravity was Liv’s nemesis. A literal pain in her ass. Someday, Liv had decided, she was going to get a pilot licence like her Uncle Jake. That would teach bloody gravity.

A yell distracted Liv from her plotting.

“Hey, Livia! Livia!” Reggie hollered as he pelted up the beach. “The big tortoise came back! Diego said we can feed him! Quick!”

That got her attention. The past two years, the mighty Shore Guardian had lumbered into their midst during the reunion, and it had been an incredible thrill. In an instant, she was off and running.

“Liv, when I say to be careful…,” Taylor started.

“I know!” she called over her shoulder, “ Actually be careful. But you know I’m not scared of some old Shore Guardian, right?”

The tortoise was colossal. Built like a tank; the peak of his pyramid-like shell reached the height of a man. It had come as an immense relief to everyone when the creature started appearing on La Huerta’s shores, that he was of a docile and placid disposition.

“Helloooo there, Shelly!” Liv called, clambering up and over the rocks, a bunch of glowing flowers in her hand. “I brought you a snack.”

“See,” Diego said from his perch, overlooking the beast, “I told you he’d come back. He’s pretty smart. He must know that the reunion happens every year, and that the reunion means kids bearing flowers. I think you’ve started something, though-- the Vaanti kids are all over this guy when he hangs near Elyys’tel.”

“He’s less scary than the yeti-bear. I like the yeti-bear, but Mom and Mom say I’m still too young to give her a pat. Do you think I should make friends with the Sea Guardian next?”

The Sea Guardian was rarely observed. It was something like a plesiosaur with scales all the colours of the rainbow, and even after more than a decade since Cetus’ demise, it seemed as though the monster was only gettng larger. Sighting the beast was something of a badge of honour for young Vaanti, with the bolder among them daring to touch its back-- some even managing to take loose scales when the beast was shedding. There had only been a few serious injuries over the years, but the practice was largely frowned upon-- especially by those old enough to remember Cetus’ wrath. If there was one thing everyone agreed upon, it was that they did not want another Cetus.

Diego chuckled nervously. “Better stick to old Shelly. He appreciates your friendship.”

“Yeah, Livia, you should look after the friendships you’ve got,” Reggie said, huffing and puffing as he came over the ledge. “It’s not like you’ve got many.”

“Hey!”

“Was I insensitive again?” he asked sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“A little,” Diego said. “Why don’t you come closer and feed Shelly with Liv?”

Reggie eyed the hulking beast. “No… no, I’m fine just watching. A good scientist never interferes with wildlife. You know Jane Goodall used to feed chimps bananas? But that was like… years and years ago. Now we know that is not the best way to science.”

“Whatever, Reggie,” Liv laughed, “but don’t cry to me when I’m Shelly’s best friend.”

Down on the sand, Liv could feel the enormous presence of the giant tortoise as he towered over her, sniffing.

“Good boy, Shelly. You wanna flower?”

Diego watched her, ready to swoop down and pull her to safety if the beast appeared bothered. “Good job, Livi. Nice and slow so you don’t freak him out. Like… like you’re Hiccup and he’s Toothless.”

Liv chuckled, and peered into Shelly’s mouth as it gaped open to take a flower. “I think he is toothless.”

“Yeah, but I bet his hard mouth could break all the bones in your hand!” Reggie piped up.

“Shelly would never,” Diego assured. “He knows better than to bite the hand that feeds him.”

The tortoise gave a rumbling grumble of pleasure as he swallowed a flower.

“How have you guys been recently?” Diego probed, keeping it light, but knowing that life had recently been a rough ride for the kids. “I heard Maia moved schools; that kind of sucks. She was pretty great.”

She was pretty pretty, Liv thought, though she kept that to herself. “I’ve been really sad and lonely. But it’s all better now-- we’re all back here! No mean dumbasses. I wish Maia didn’t have to leave though.”

“I decided I don’t like getting in fights,” Reggie said. “I am now officially a pacifist. But… I guess I’ve gotta make exceptions if people are gonna say stuff about my sisters. They’re only little. They can’t stand up for themselves.”

“Better stick to fighting with your words, Reggie,” Liv said with a little smirk. “I have never seen such a weak-ass punch in my life….”

“Hey, I did pretty good!”

“If I hadn’t jumped in, they’d still be mopping you off the floor now,” she laughed.

“Well, maybe I’m better at more important things, like actually using my brain! You should try it sometime.”

“Okay, okay,” Diego intervened. “Easy, kids! You don’t want to freak old Toothless out.”

Liv looked up at Shelly. He was calmly chewing on the last flower she’d offered him, not batting an eyelid at the raised voices.

“Tio Diego,” she murmured. “Can I tell you something? And Reggie-- you can know too.”

“Of course, you can, Liv.”

“Well… it’s kinda… embarrassing. But I know you won’t laugh. Not when it’s important. I like liked Maia. I thought everyone would laugh at me if they found out I had a crush on a girl. I know it’s not something to be ashamed of, but I was still… too scared.”

“You’re telling us now-- that takes a lot of guts,” Diego told her. “It is scary. You never know how people are going to react. Most people are pretty cool these days, but it only takes one mean person to make you feel sad and small.”

Liv climbed back up onto the rocks to sit by her uncle’s side. “Yeah. Some of the kids already teased me about my moms. I thought there would probably be at least one mean person.”

“That’s fair,” Reggie concluded. “I mean, you’re probably right. If they were jerks about Erin, probably they wouldn’t be any nicer to you. They already think you’re kinda weird.”

Diego put an arm around his niece, and she leaned close. After all these years, he could always tell when she needed a hug. “Coming out and showing yourself to the world should always be on your terms. If you didn’t feel ready, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It means a lot that you feel comfortable enough to share with me.”

“Of course! You’re my tio. I can tell you anything. Even the things that are just silly and annoying… you listen anyway.” Liv sighed, and threw down her last flower to the great, lumbering tortoise, who scarfed it down eagerly. “I’m sad that Maia is gone. I thought eventually I’d be brave enough. I can be brave with stuff like protecting people who need help, but feelings are harder.”

“Feelings can be the absolute hardest. But we’re on your side, whenever you’re ready to share them. Me and Varyyn, and Reggie, and your moms. Your moms are so proud of you, you know? Being sensitive and caring can be tough, but those feelings are what make you strong. Your Mama Taylor told me you’ve been helping her get up every day when she’s been feeling really down. You make a difference-- a good one. You don’t have to be brave enough for everything all at once.”

“Thanks, Tio. You’re smart. No wonder you wrote like, two whole books. All teachers should be as nice as you.”

“Well, I do my best. And in the end, that’s all you really can do. Do you remember from Cinderella? ‘Have courage, and be kind.’ I’d say you’re both pretty good at that already.”

______________________________

La Huerta, 2031

Seven-year-old Liv reached out her hands to a stricken bird as it flailed in distress. The sound of it being slammed against the window of the house by a larger, more aggressive foe had made her all but jump out of her skin, but if something might be hurt, she had to get over her fright quickly and help.

“Hello birdie…,”she cooed. Her fingers gently stroked the feathers on its back. It stopped flapping, but its breathing was laboured, as if it was struggling for air. Blood had risen from its eyes and nose. “It’s okay… I’m a friend.”

Gently, Liv scooped the wounded animal into her hands and cradled it, crouching over the grass in front of her home.

“Tio Diego! Varyyn! I need help!”

Of course, her uncles came running. They were never far away when tasked with keeping an eye on her; by now they were too well aware of her propensity for wandering into mischief not to be.

“Livita, are you okay--”

“Tio, she’s hurt. I think she’s gonna die. This great big bird got her and hit her against the window.”

Diego was pretty sure Liv had heard the talk about not touching wild animals, especially if they were injured and likely to lash out, but the reminder could wait. One look at the bird told him it was not long for this world.

“She is dying,” Varyyn confirmed, sadly. He exchanged a look with Diego. “It’s very sad… but we must make sure she doesn’t suffer.”

Liv sniffed. It wasn’t fair. This little bird used to hang around their home, foraging in the garden Mama Taylor had grown. They liked hearing her singing and calling to the other birds.

Varyyn squeezed Liv’s shoulder. “We’ll give her a minute to see if she fades away on her own. Do you trust us to do what’s kind for your friend?”

“Yeah… but I don’t want to leave her. I think she’s less scared with me holding her.”

Diego put an arm around Liv. “That’s good. You’re making her feel safe. Everyone deserves that. Just keep talking to her, okay? Hopefully, she’ll go peacefully.”

“It’s okay, birdie,” Liv whispered. “You’re not alone now. You can go to sleep.”

The bird gave a few more rattling breaths, then was still.

“Tio Diego… I think she’s died.”

“Yes, she’s gone, mija. You did amazing.”

Liv wept, held by her uncles.

“Death is always hard,” Varyyn said gently, “even when it’s kind. You always feel the hole where there was once a life.”

“S-she shouldn’t have died! She wasn’t hurting anyone… o-or doing anything wrong… she was just in that other bird’s way.”

“I know. It sad, and it’s not fair at all. But you made her last moments so much better; that counts for a lot. Everyone dies sometime… all you can hope for is that you go feeling loved, and you made that happen. It’s like… the circle of life. Nature can be really cruel, but that doesn’t take away the good bits. This little bird probably helped lots of plants spread their seeds.”

“Yes. Even if your friend’s life was short; it had great value.”

Liv raised her head, eyes wide. “Her body becomes the grass, right? Like Mufasa said? She’s got to at least get to be part of the circle of life if she can’t live anymore.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s pretty much how it works. If we leave her body somewhere nice where it won’t be bothered, she can feed the earth.”

“Okay. I wanna do that, then.”

A sombre procession carried the little broken body to the edge of the meadow. Liv laid the bird beneath a bush and draped her body with a fallen leaf. Then, she sat and looked over the resting place of her friend, tears filling her eyes. Varyyn was right; already there was a big empty hole. An echoey feeling right in her heart. Liv would miss hearing the bird’s chirruping as she played around the garden with her Mama Taylor. Hopefully, she’d remember that, not just this sad, sad feeling… of knowing she couldn’t protect an innocent, of seeing a life fade to nothing. Mama Estela told her that was important. That nothing should ever take away what was beautiful about something or someone once they’re gone.

She got to her feet, brushed off the dirt from her hands, then slipped one into Diego’s.

Bye, bye.

__________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Penny for yours?”

Estela sat down beneath an old familiar banana tree, settling beside Taylor, who appeared to be a million miles away.

“Oh… I was off in my own world, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, it looks that way. But you looked happy.”

“I am. Just being here has been a breath of fresh air. I feel like I’m me again, and it’s been a long time coming.”

Estela gave a contented hum and rested her head on her wife’s shoulder. “I’ve missed happy Taylor.”

“Well, thanks for sticking by and waiting out for her. Happy Taylor appreciates it.” Taylor chuckled at the sound of Estela’s quiet laughter. It was infectious. Hell, just Estela’s smile was like the embodiment of sunshine, it made coming out the other side of her dark cloud all the more glorious. “I think we’ve got our Livi back. Or I think we’re on the right track.”

“I know we are. It’s been a slow decline… I don’t think I even realised how miserable she’d gotten until I saw her snap back to how she should be.” Estela shrank in on herself. What excuse did she have? She had one job; to keep that kid happy. She didn’t have a war to contend with, or the struggle to get by between pay-checks, and she still couldn’t manage it. “I should have done better. I’ve been trying… I’ve been trying so hard… but somehow I couldn’t make everything better for her. Or you.”

“Don’t you even think about it! No.” Taylor pressed a fierce kiss to Estela’s temple. “We hit a few bumps in the road, that’s all. I wasn’t counting on an intense case of the baby blues… or what might actually have been full-on post-partum depression. The timing was unfortunate; really, it sucked. But you carried us through. When Liv got suspended and I couldn’t fucking stop crying because I just couldn’t handle it, you did handle it. You’re pretty great. Ask Raj; he gave me a magic pep talk earlier, I’m sure I could rope him into a repeat performance.”

“Thank you. You’re good at putting things in perspective, I’ll give you that. I know I set my bar too high. Just because Liv has her struggles, doesn’t mean I’ve failed… it means she’s a human being. And that’s probably what we were aiming for….”

Taylor giggled. “Godammit, my otherworldly influence has been foiled!”

“Actually, while we’ve got a chance to talk… I was speaking with Aleister earlier.”

“Yeah, I thought I saw you two hanging out.”

“Well, it seems like we’ve inspired him and Grace. Reggie’s not going back to that school next year either. It sounds like Livi’s gonna have a homeschooling buddy here on La Huerta!”

“Oh, wow! Ohmygod, that’s perfect! It’ll be just like old times; almost half the gang back home again. And… and the girls? Are they waiting a year, or are they going to teach them as well?”

“You’ll have to ask them, but it sounds like they’re going to get started with Erin and Immy. It’s going to be so good for Liv.”

“Yeah. Really that’s… that’s wonderful. God, I’m so happy right now!”

Estela found herself laughing. Her dork was back. She took Taylor’s hand. “And then, moving forward, Aleister says they’re considering a permanent move to San Trobida-- obviously under the assumption that we’ll be heading in that direction ourselves.”

“Oh my… holy crap!” Taylor flung her arms around Estela and hugged her tight. Something in her knew right away… yes, that’s right. That’s where we’re all meant to be. That gut feeling overshadowed any qualms or fears. “Tio Nicolas is really not gonna know what’s hit him, hey?”

“No; and I think it will be a dream come true.” Nestled in Taylor’s embrace, the scent of her mingling with the La Huerta sea air… it was, to Estela, the very essence of happiness. The excited yells of children at play had her look up over her lover’s arms; there was her Livita, piggybacking little Erin through the shallows while the terror, Immy, sent up wild splashes of water at their faces. It was time to try something new. For them.

“Aw, ‘Stel, just look at them!” Taylor snuggled in, a giddy grin on her face. She needed a change, and she had a feeling that for her, for Estela, for Liv… it would be a step towards their best lives. The year to come, and even beyond that, was to be a thrill ride of the most exhilarating kind, and they’d take it on hand in hand. She exhaled her fears and sadness, and let the wind carry them away. “I really love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Taylor. Forever.”

_____________________

Midnight over the Celestial. Or rather, two minutes to midnight. The countdown to Liv’s tenth birthday was on, and the kids-- save for the two little ones who’d long been in bed-- were just about hanging onto the non-grumpy side of overtired.

Ten years. How could that even be? Taylor could see the years in her face and Estela’s, but it still could have been yesterday that they were interrupting the festivities with the announcement that… ‘uh, I think baby might be coming’. What had followed was a period of some of the most intense hours either of them had lived through, a culmination of two lives’ dreams and emotions. And at the end of it, Taylor had found herself holding in her hands the second love of her life. Her sunshine. As children do, Liv grew. She’d tested her mothers, putting pressure on their weak points and making them stronger. She’d brought them closer, something Taylor wouldn’t have believed possible… but sharing their daughter’s journey was like watching a miracle unfold; to be touched and changed was inevitable.

Michelle joined Taylor, a knowing look on face as they watched Liv’s impatient jiggling.

“Crazy night ten years ago… my one and only midwife job.”

Taylor chuckled. “Crazy, crazy night. The best night of my life. I don’t think I’m ever going to stop thanking you for getting us through.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome. Ten years on, it’s stuck with me. It’s amazing to see the young woman she’s growing into. I’m not going to lie, I’m proud of my small part in putting her in the world.”

That change was coming so fast. The transition from that rosy-faced bundle of cuddles into a bright, opinionated adolescent was going to be underway in no time at all. Even now, looking at that giggling ten-year-old, it was hard to imagine.

I’m going to embrace every moment. Every one. You, me, your Mama Estela, we’re on this adventure together. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us next.

Estela put her arms around Taylor from behind, smiling into her wife’s shoulder.

“Is it my birthday yet?” Liv asked, bounding over to them.

“One minute, mija.” She tugged Liv into the hug and covered her forehead in kisses. “Come here!”

The cake was unveiled, and the small girls, Isla, Erin and Immy, erupted into ‘ooh’s, while Liv did a dance in her mothers’ arms. Her family around her sang, all together, celebrating her milestone, and she knew belonging. She looked up to her mothers and grinned, face aglow with candlelight.

The future was bright.

#endless summer #estela x taylor #playchoices

11 notes · View notes

sunshine-pup-fics · 5 years

Text

W O U N D S // Bakugo x Reader

Request: Their s/o takes a big hit in battle, and has to hide, with Bakugo taking care of them after the fight!

Hope you enjoy!

This wasn’t meant to be a dangerous battle. At least, not life-threatening. Just a couple of simple thugs who thought their quirks were stupid strong and figured, ‘yeah, hey, we could rob a convenience store or something.’

It was easy to notice Bakugo wasn’t thrilled about dealing with some low ranked thugs, but heroes work is heroes work.

“You doing alright down there, oh great lord explosion murder?”

I laughed as Bakugo growled, and I could imagine him rolling his eyes. “Tch, I get it! Shut your trap!”

I was simply support, waiting at my post in case of emergencies. Bakugo wouldn’t admit it, but he enjoyed my dumb jokes and snide remarks.

“That thug must be super fiery-ous that you’re busting his plans.” “Would you stop making shitty jokes!” “Hmm. Nah! You know you love them! And me, while you’re at it!” “… Yeah, that’s the fucking problem.”

It wasn’t meant to escalate.

I clutched my arm tightly, trying to alleviate some of the throbbing pain that seemed to rack through my entire body. My head was pounding, my heart was thumping. I only just registered the warm, thick liquid seeping into my clothing. I almost didn’t register Bakugos desperate calls “Fuckin hell (Y/N)! Get to safety RIGHT now!” I only stole a glance toward his voice, before I focused back on the villain, who was simply smirking, crimson blood dripping from his teeth.

I stared him down, my focus wavering as I tried to fight through the flurry of thoughts and pain. I brutally slapped myself, diverting some of the pain away from my arm. “You think a little blood and pain is gonna stop me from kicking your ass?” I spat. He simply chuckled. “Might want to do as your little boyfriend says, lass. Surely wouldn’t want you dead, now would he?” I was about to spit a remark back at him, before his words sunk in.

“de-dead?” I cursed myself as my voice wavered. “What? I’m fucking fine, it’d take a lot more than-“ I removed my hand from my arm, freezing as my gaze was left lingering on crimson. The colour of my own blood, stained onto my hand, dripping onto the cold, dark concrete, pooling at my feet. I couldn’t swallow. All there was was the metallic smell of the crimson liqu-

“(Y/N) YOU BETTER FUCKIN MOVE. I’M NOT HAVING YOU DIE ON ME! GET THAT ASS OF YOURS AWAY FROM HERE!”

Bakugos rough voice caught my attention. I blatantly turned toward him, in time to see him launching himself toward me, slamming straight into the villain. I opened my mouth to retaliate, with anything, before I caught Bakugos gaze. His ruby eyes were stern, but behind his usual façade, I could see he was pleading with me. Telling me I needed to run. I obeyed.

I could do nothing but shelter behind some discarded rubble, biting my hand in an attempt to stop the screams that lodged in the throat. I knew that other heroes arrived to help out, but all the yelling and loud crashes blended together. I waited.

“(Y/N)! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?”

Bakugos gaze flittered around the area, harshly scanning every detail for any sign of the (h/c) haired girl. He was about to yell again, before he heard her voice. Soft, fragile and hoarse. Coming from his left. He rushed toward it, disregarding the other heroes calling for him. He stumbled to a halt as he finally found her.

She was huddled up, pale as paper as she slumped behind some rubble. There were cuts and scratches along her face, but he knew she was injured worse. He crashed to the ground beside her. “Show me where you’re fucking injured.” She cringed away, lightly shaking her head. “Ple-Please Suki… everything… everything hurts…” Her voice wavered, her eyes barely keeping open. He slowly, hesitantly reached out. He wasn’t known for being delicate, but god knows he’d never do anything to hurt you. He gingerly placed his hand atop hers, peeling her hand away from her arm. She sucked in a sharp breath, biting her lip as she cried, her cheeks already tear stained.

“Hey.” The girls gaze met his. “You’re gonna be fuckin fine, alright? You’re strong as all shit.” He didn’t falter, his mouth set in a thin line, his face solemn.

He looked back to his hand, eyebrows knitting together and a spark of fury dancing in his eyes.

“Hmm, I’ve always liked it, but red just isn’t my colour.”

Bakugo paused. Eyes incredulously watching his girlfriend smile like a dork about her own joke. “You’re stupid, you know that?” He grumbled, setting his attention back on the bite wound. He began tediously removing the clothing around it, watching as the liquid continued to ooze down her arm. She could see the panic onset in his eyes and the way his hands trembled, just a little bit.

“You know…” she started again, a weak smile as Bakugo only glanced at her face for a moment. “I still could’ve taken that guy on.” Bakugo barked a laugh, nodding his head. “Of course, you would’ve won too. You’re not my girlfriend for nothing.”

“You’re just jealous of how cute I am!”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.

He finished tending to the wound, using a torn piece of fabric from his own costume to keep pressure on it. He finally caught her gaze again. Her eyes were flittering open and closed, she was barely conscious. “Suki…” her voice was low and rough, but Bakugo simply hummed in response. “I’m tired… everything hurts like a bitch. Can we go home?”

“Yeah, whatever you want. C’mon.” He cautiously scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. She seemed to nestle into him and her breathing slowed. He began walking back toward the newly arrived police and ambulances, keeping a very close eye on any movement of her face.

He glared daggers at any medic who tried to approach, snarling that he had medical training and that he’d be dammed if he didn’t take her home and take care of her.

Bakugo placed her gently on the bed, to which she flopped backward, before yelling out in pain.

“AH FUCK! Shouldn’t have done that… shit!” She cursed under her breath, face contorted in pain. “Don’t be fuckin dumb, alright?” Bakugo perched himself on the bed, double checking the wound, not noticing the (e/c) eyes trained on him.

“I Love you.”

“I know.”

“KATSUKI! You asshole!”

“Yeah yeah. I love you too.”

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boko no hero academia #katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou #mha bakugou #x reader #bakugo x reader #SaladWrites

122 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years

Note

the unique letters of "william frederick roland"

thank you!! i love that guy

W: Worst month?

february still, but november can eat shit too. xmas is starting to get more annoying and thanksgiving is Worse b/c like, horrible holiday in concept and nothing to celebrate in the least, and it’s alright that people give you food probably but like, the dishes are like, not even the best. nobody likes turkey or yams and yet. and the nightmare of spending time with Family? jesus.....also, it’s just like, you’re facing eons of Winter and it’s already getting cold as shit and when daylight savings begins or ends or whatever and suddenly the sun is down at 4:53pm and it just gets worse from there and it’s just a crap month

I: Interest?

well look if you follow me for like a month you probably catch on to a lot of my Interests but i’ll take this chance to tell a recent only-interesting-to-me story

so back in like middle school yrs (2005-2008) i was real into sherlock holmes stuff!! which is easy to forgot b/c the interest kinda continued into college and then [that text post about the ghost of arthur conan doyle sobbing w/ gratitude to bbc sherlock for achieving his dream of making ppl hate sherlock holmes] and i was like well i’m watching this youtube horror series anyways. but like, in those years, prior to the guy ritchie movie and the Modern SH Media Revival that followed, SH was like, real niche. like obviously everyone knows of it but like. beyond that, kinda obscure at that point to be like, currently and actively ~into~ it. but i was out there watching jeremy brett on pbs Mystery slots, seeing multiple hound of the baskervilles adaptations, and lugging our giant “half of a 2-vol dictionary”-sized copy of the complete canon around, and i read the whole thing

i wasn’t super Online prior to 2008 but somehow i stumbled across such a Wildly Niche thing where this dude in peoria would make “comics” by photographing action figures and giving them speech bubbles and would make really specific references to stories and adaptations and it was really funny to me and that’s how i discovered that there was this particular fan culture self-identified as sherlockians where like, i mean really it’s just that you like sherlock holmes obviously but beyond that, there could be your local sherlockian society which i guess is like a book club roughly but also there’d be things like just making up fun things to do based on the stories, like celebrating reichenbach day by doing whatever you want or referecing the musgrave ritual story in which it’s like “follow these precise directions to Find Thing” and then you do act out those directions....thrilling, right? but i doubt anyone expects this victorian-ass interest to be wildly sexy and heartpounding stuff. and it’s this well-known wide-reaching media so you know there’s room for stuff like books and papers and stuff and just do whatever you want, have this specific nerd community and make up your own funny traditions. and anyways, this guy had a whole blog about it in addition to his Comics, and i’d email him sometimes with questions about stuff, and i think it was from there that i first found out about The 2009 Movie existing, which Was thrilling, b/c it was so out of the blue. gr8 stuff

anyways i’ve remember the existence of this one guy and his blog in year since, but it was only a couple nights ago that i was like “well let’s look it up” and discovered that he’s been updating the blog super regularly the whole time in this literal decade since. i also followed him on twitter and dropped a comment on a post which i know he saw b/c it was anonymous and thus required moderator approval before being posted. like, you love to see it. and even though i loathe bbc sh still and have gone through Other Interests in the meantime, every big interest i’ve ever had is still in there mostly dormant yanno. anyways i thought it was cool. i’m glad for this guy who i last talked to when i was like 13 and now i’m 25.

L: Last name?

still Burrows

(L I.........Amphibian)

A: Ambition?

hmmb thinking of another one......if i’m in a position to bake a homemade batch of chocolate chip cookies, i’m probably thriving. and also i always want a lot of chocolate chip cookies, to eat

M: (favourite) Month?

also may is the anti-november......by that point it’s probably Consistently Warm and life and sunlight has returned

F: (best) Friend?

soph nothingunrealistic my fave rave

R: Realest dream?

i don’t really have an answer whether i interpret it as “literal dream that felt real” or “aspiration type dream that seems most achievable” smh

E: Easiest subject?

i tended to have a decent time w/ any Social Studies type stuff. probably b/c i was Interested

D: Describe yourself.

uh physically it’s like, six ft tall, white, short brown hair, glasses, probably wearing jeans/shorts and a tee, kinda nondescript. personality wise i’m kind of all or nothing.....usually Unusually quiet and trying to avoid interaction / attention, but when i’m Being Myself i like things like being somewhat impulsive and being around a lot of people / a lot of activity, and i’m a real motormouth who likes to talk and laugh and sometimes like being loud even though i’m bad at it lol. short-tempered and argumentative and opinionated, so you Know that’s a recipe for a good time. but uhh i’m Passionate. also i think being autistic makes me seem weird so idk abt that. Theatre / Horror / Tired / oppossum lifestyle gay

C: (favourite) Colour?

that one blue. curious blue or picton blue or w/e. it’s this turquoisey azure cerulean type business

K: (first) Kiss?

never happened lmao....there’s that most recent person you kissed where i count the time i performance-art kissed a friend on the cheek like 7-9 yrs ago. once since then someone kissed me but i wasn’t exactly into it so i don’t count it

O: Oldest family member?

i guess maybe my cool probably gay fancy rich-ish great uncle in new hampshire?? i Think he’s my grandma’s older brother.....

N: Next thing you have to do?

fuck-all!!!! probably should get some type of food or smthing tho

#Anonymous

2 notes · View notes

whickedlydeviant · 5 years

Text

I Hate Everything About You: Chapter 4 w/ @DarkLoverLost

Wrath:

I’m not quite sure how long it had been since everything went dark in the alley, but none of this had turned out like I had planned. I was supposed to be spending the rest of eternity with my Queen, not shunned at the doors of The Fade, only to end up here, in what was obviously the med suite with a bullet lodged in my heart and another that had been through-and-through in my gut. Well, I was guessing by now that bullet lodged in my heart had been removed. Or, at least I hoped it had. I’d obviously had surgery due to that hideous incision going all the way down my chest. Thank fuck we don’t scar.

My attempt to move triggered all sorts of alarms that only made my head pound worse, so I fell back on the gurney and closed my eyes. In an instant, Manny and Ehlena were both at my side, waiting to hear how I was feeling, where I was hurting, and most importantly how they could help. “You could leave me the fuck alone, is how you can help!” I knew it was harsh, but I had just been put through the ringer. Do you have any idea what it’s like to finally find yourself at the doors of The Fade, only to be turned away by the one person you love most in the entire world? Yeah, I didn’t want any kind of help. I just wanted to go back, back to The Fade and have it turn out all differently.

Manny and Ehlena were insisting on answers, but I didn’t care. I just kept my eyes closed and tried to wish it all away. Eventually, they gave up, telling each other I needed some more rest. Things would be different in a few hours. Best of fucking luck to you on that!

Whicked:

*I blinked once, twice, three times trying to clear my vision. My head was pounding but I didn’t have the heaviness I felt before I passed out. Shit! I passed out due to blood loss from giving the King a major transfusion. I sat up quickly, looking around an unfamiliar bedroom. My eyes darted around until they settled on a red headed Male sat in the corner. He settled a book on his lap, a smile curving up the corners of his mouth. “Hey Whicked, how you feeling?” I tugged the duvet up higher realising I was still in my soiled bra and leather trousers “Uhhhhh who are you and where am I?” He reached up and ran his hand through his hair and then leaned back and stretched out until he cracked a few tight muscles. “Well...my name is Blaylock, you can call me Blay and you are safe, you are at our compound. I brought you up here to rest, you collapsed after you fed the Wrath. I thought I would hang around till you woke up, see if I could maybe offer you my vein, you know... to say thank you for saving the King.

I eyed the Male wearily, he seemed nice enough I guess and if I was still in the Brotherhood’s compound I was surely safe. He seemed to anticipate my wariness and his smile turned into a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry, you are safe here. No-one will come through these doors if you don’t want them to, I will make sure of that, if that is what you want of course. That includes me, if you don’t want me in here, I will totally respect your choice and I can take this chair out into the hall with me. Your call.”

Wrath:

Eventually, thinking that I needed some sleep, Ehlena and Manny left the room. Of course, they left the door half-open and I knew they weren’t far, but I could finally relax a little. I didn’t have to pretend to be sleeping anymore. I opened my eyes and ran through all the recent events.

The trip to The Fade almost seemed like a dream. At that point, I might have actually believed it had been… if it hadn’t been for the fact that I had /felt/ Beth’s breath on my face as she leaned in to kiss me, the touch of her soft lips brushing against mine, and the way my heart broke when she turned me away. The intensity of it all had been way too vivid to have been a dream. I would have rather it had been a dream, because that would mean that Beth was still up there, waiting to welcome me unto The Fade with open arms. But, I knew she wasn’t. I knew if I did something like this again, it would end up with the same outcome. Beth standing guard over the doors to The Fade, keeping me out for some unknown reason. How could she do this to me? If the roles were reversed, I never would have been able to turn her away! No. Fucking. Way! Not in a million years could I deny that female anything! How could she possibly have denied me?

My thoughts began to drift and I realized that before they had left, someone had added a slight bit of sedative to my IV. Well, fuck! That’ll teach me to pretend to be asleep.

Whicked:

*I eyed the redhead slightly less warily than before, he seemed pretty chill. I shrugged my shoulders lightly. “Sure...stay if you want but could I maybe get a clean tee or something? Not sure if is such a good idea to walk around here in just my bra and leathers, right?” *He was up and out of the seat before I finished talking, he pulled open the door to a wardrobe and grabbed a plain black fleece from a shelf and gently tossed it my way. I caught it mid air and smiled as he turned his back to me so I could slip it on. “You know, we do have a shower here, you could get yourself cleaned up if you want before Fritz takes you home?” I pulled my flame coloured locks out from the fleece* Fritz? Sorry who is Fritz? *He turned back to face me* He is the main man around here, he makes sure that everyone is taken care of properly. He will take you home, whenever you are good to go but like I said, you can take a shower or I can get you some food from the kitchen, whatever you want?

I pushed back the sheets and clambered out of the bed. “Truthfully I just want to get out of here and get back home, I probably shouldn’t be here. You guys don’t usually put up strangers here, right? So I don’t wanna compromise you or anything.” He nodded slowly, his fingers playing with the bottom of his cashmere sweater anxiously as if he was jonesing for something. My guess would be that he was either coming off of smokes or drugs. He seemed pretty squeaky clean so my guess was that it was cigarettes. I made for the door but paused and reached out to steady myself against the wall to wait out a bout of dizziness. I needed to take a vein, maybe I could make till I get home and call Ahxton, the Male I usually fed from.

Wrath:

Trying hard to fight the drugs that were running through my veins, I faded in and out, all the while trying to remember every small detail about my time with Beth. There was the unbelievable sensation of having her in my arms, again, as well as the fury that unfolded as she fought with me to leave. But, there was something else that tickled just beyond the details of my memory. It was something that I didn’t understand, and made me a little uneasy… what the fuck was it? As the memories floated through my head, I tried to remember it all, but the drugs were making it all so difficult. However, that one thing seemed so important. Something about there being so much ahead of me… What the fuck was it that she said?

I took a deep breath and allowed the drugs to take over. Hopefully, once I have my wits about me again, things will be more clear. One could only hope, because this mish-mash of memories tangling together was beginning to piss me off. I wanted to remember it all, every single second of my time with my Queen. Apparently, it would be the last time I saw her for a long, long time and I wanted to savor every moment.

Whicked:

*Black dots appeared in my vision as I used the wall to support my weight. Well maybe I couldn’t wait till I got home to feed. Blaylock came over behind me but kept his hands off my svelte frame, but I knew if it seemed like I was gonna faceplant the floor, he would catch me first. I pushed off the wall gently and half walked, half stumbled back over to the bed. Blaylock sat down on the bed, but kept a generous distance as if maintaining a modicum of decency. Something I definitely wasn’t used to with the Males I have fed from before, including Ahxton, although he was one of the nicer I had been with.

As I sat next to the Male, he rolled up his sweater sleeve and slowly put his forearm out to me. I sat and stared at his proffered arm for a moment as if convincing myself that I needed to do this, in truth I didn’t like this feeling of being out of control, I never let myself get to this eat a horse kinda hungry before and I 100% didn’t want to get like this again. The lightheadedness made me feel like a space cadet. I leaned over and gently wrapped my hand around his wrist, pulling him toward me. I eyed his veins keenly before I angled my head closer. As my fangs elongated, I licked my lips, the hunger taking over me. I stuck at his wrist like a cobra, unable to be gentle about my bite. He stiffened for a second or two before relaxing as I began taking long pulls of his blood.

Wrath:

Once I woke up, my head felt like complete shit. The pounding headache, along with the muffled recollection of all that had happened made me want to vomit. That’s not even to mention the sounds of all the hospital equipment beeping and making noises. “Shut this shit up!” I screamed as I swung my arms out wide, hoping to push some of it away. I wasn’t super thrilled to have anyone in the room, poking and prodding at me, or inquisitioning me, but my head felt like it was about to explode and if someone didn’t shut this crap up soon, I was going to stumble out of bed and destroy it all.

It took all of about 5 seconds for Manny and Ehlena to be at my bedside, Tohr quick on their heels. Manny and Ehlena were firing off questions about my health and how I was feeling, while Tohr was giving me the third degree. What the hell did I think I was doing? Did I not take into consideration how this would affect the race, the Brotherhood, LW? I just about leapt off the gurney at him for that one. He didn’t seem to care, though. He kept right on going. It was obvious that he was beyond pissed. Well so the fuck was I! I had been through literal hell and back in the past day or so (I was guessing on the time) and wanted no part of this berating horseshit he was throwing at me.

“I don’t need to put up with this bullshit from you, Tohr. Just get the fuck out!” I snarled, trying to muster up as much aggression as I could in the situation I was in.

Slender fingers wrapped around Tohr’s arm, “Tohr, please. He needs to rest.” Ehlena pleaded, but aside from flinging his arm out of her grasp, he ignored her.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what you think you need, Wrath! You went out there with a death wish! Don’t fool yourself for a second into thinking that there is one person in this mansion that doesn’t realize that!” Turning to Manny, he shot out. “Get me a goddamn wheelchair.” Shouting out the door, “Butch, get your ass in here. I’m going to need your help.”

Whicked:

*His blood felt amazing as it slid down my throat, I could feel his power running into my veins, returning some of my strength to me. I didn’t take much, only enough to make me strong enough to get home and set up something with Ahxton. Truth be told feeding from this Male felt all wrong, and I wasn’t sure that feeding from Ahx would be any different. There was only one Male I wanted to feed from. What?! What the fuck was I thinking? The King was off limits to a civilian like me, shit to any Female. He was grieving over his Shellan and from what I heard, it was hard for a bonded Male to ever get over the loss of his Mate. I am sure it would be worse if that Shellan had bore a young, like the Queen had for Wrath. The Male had lost the centre of his universe and here was I wondering how his blood would taste. What the fuck was wrong with me, mooning over an unavailable Male such as Wrath.

He watched me intently for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah sure, of course. I will do that right now for you. *He nodded to the door at the back of the room* The bathroom is right in there if you want to freshen up for the trip, you know clean up or something”? I got up as if on autopilot and headed to the closed door, behind me I heard the handset of the phone next to the bed being picked up and the push of a button. As I pushed open the door and flicked the lightswitch, I could hear Blaylock talking over the phone to someone, Fritz I assumed. I closed the door and stood against it. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before taking a few short steps to the mirror and glancing into it, checking out my reflection. My skin was white as a snowdrop against the fire engine red of my hair. There were streaks of blood across my face, the King’s blood. A few scratches from digging through the rubble I guess. Dirt and blood matted my hair, well at least the fleece I had put on was clean. I would hate to see how bad I looked underneath it.

A soft knock at the door startled me and I heard Blaylock’s voice through the door. “Whicked, we are ready to go whenever you are”. I took a deep cleansing breath and about turned and pulled open the door. “OK, then let’s go, I am ready now.”

Wrath:

Manny gave Tohr a hard look, but exited the room, anyway. No sooner was he gone and Butch was there.

“Oh, good.” Ehlena remarked, “Talk some sense into Tohr, please? Wrath needs to rest.”

“Wrath can rest when he’s actually dead and gone, for good. Right now, he needs to get his ass down the hallway and properly thank this female for the offering of her vien. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t be here right now, and as much as he wishes that statement were true, she needs to be thanked. Now, work it out so that all this shit he’s attached to can move with him. They’ve already called for Fritz to take her home.”

Was he fucking serious?! He was going to get me out of this gurney, feeling and looking like I was, and force me down the corridor to thank some female for doing something I never asked her to do, and if I could’ve, I wouldn’t have asked it of her? “Fuck you, Tohr! You are not getting me out of this goddamn bed!”

“Maybe not alone. But, that’s why I’m here.” Came the thick Boston accent. “Between the two of us and the drugs in your system, we’ll get you in that wheelchair and down the hall. She needs to be thanked, man, and not by the rest of us. It needs to come from you. Respect.”

Within seconds Manny walked in, wheelchair in tow. He still had a sour look on his face and it was directed at Tohr and Butch. “He shouldn’t be doing this, right now. He needs his rest. He’s still recovering. For crying out loud, he was shot twice, once in the heart. Give him a beat.”

His pleading was all for naught, though. These two shitheads weren’t listening to reason. They were just pissed off at me, so this was retaliation.

Whicked:

*I brushed a lock of hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. I stepped out of the bathroom and followed the Male out of the room. Once out in the hallway, there seemed to be a lot of commotion, people everywhere. The blonde warrior and his Shellan. A tall brunette Female standing close by them, she eyed me and smiled. Another brunette stood with the King’s son and a teenage girl roughly about the same age as the young prince. I felt eyes on me from everywhere. As we got to the staircase, I caught sight of an aged doggen waiting patiently at the foot of the stairs, ah this must be Fritz. The peanut gallery were all standing at the edge of the balustrade, peering down at us. Seemed to be everyone but Vishous and the King, well everyone I had seen before at least.

“Mistress, if you would like to follow me, I shall take you to your home before the sun comes up”. I glanced over at Blaylock and offered him a small smile. “Thank you Blaylock, for the offer of your vein and for taking care of me….I appreciate it.” I gave him a small nod and he smiled back. “No problem Whicked, the least I could do for the Female who saved the King.”

I took one last look around the foyer, part of me wishing that Wrath had been here, I would have liked to see him before I left, but I am sure he was still flat out on his back recovering from this wounds.

I followed the doggen out of the Mansion and into the darkness beyond. Fritz held open the passenger side rear door, and I slid in without a backward glance. I needed to get home and try and put this whole mess behind me.

Wrath:

I, in no way, helped the two asshats get me into that wheelchair. But, they were right. Between the drugs and the two of them, I was by far outmanned. So, after attempting to fight them off, and ten minutes later, I was firmly planted in the wheelchair Manny had drug in.

Before they wheeled me off, Manny and Ehlena insisted on making sure that all cables were connected properly and weren’t going to get ripped off by the trip. They also wanted to check my stats one more time, after all the manhandling was done. Blood pressure and heart rate a little elevated, but within acceptable ranges. Finally, reluctantly, they gave their okay.

As we wheeled out of the room, I half expected there to be a hallway full of faces, waiting on news of my wellbeing. I should have known better. As Tohr had said, they all knew what I had done and not one of them had really been interested in seeing me. Not even LW was down there, which was probably for the best. He didn’t need to see me as I was. At this point, I wasn’t sure how I would face him again. I hadn’t planned for that. How was I going to look him in the eyes after what I had done? Fuck! Why did she have to turn me away? Then I heard her voice, clear as day, ‘You have so much ahead of you. Welcome it. Welcome her…’

“Stop!” I growled. It was the memory that had been just beyond reach all day. ‘Welcome it. Welcome her…’ Fuck no! There was no way in hell she sent me back to love another… to love her. I reached out and grabbed at the next doorknob I saw. “I said, fucking stop!” Everything in my gut told me who the her was and I was not having it.

#IHateEverythingAboutYou #Chapter4 #EBRPG #BDB

3 notes · View notes

darkloverlost · 5 years

Text

I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU: CHAPTER 4 w/@DelicateDeviant

The Zombie King: I’m not quite sure how long it had been since everything went dark in the alley, but none of this had turned out like I had planned. I was supposed to be spending the rest of eternity with my Queen, not shunned at the doors of The Fade, only to end up here, in what was obviously the med suite with a bullet lodged in my heart and another that had been through-and-through in my gut. Well, I was guessing by now that bullet lodged in my heart had been removed. Or, at least I hoped it had. I’d obviously had surgery due to that hideous incision going all the way down my chest. Thank fuck we don’t scar.

Whicked:

Wrath:

My thoughts began to drift and I realized that before they had left, someone had added a slight bit of sedative to my IV. Well, fuck! That’ll teach me to pretend to be asleep.

Whicked:

Wrath: Trying hard to fight the drugs that were running through my veins, I faded in and out, all the while trying to remember every small detail about my time with Beth. There was the unbelievable sensation of having her in my arms, again, as well as the fury that unfolded as she fought with me to leave. But, there was something else that tickled just beyond the details of my memory. It was something that I didn’t understand, and made me a little uneasy… what the fuck was it? As the memories floated through my head, I tried to remember it all, but the drugs were making it all so difficult. However, that one thing seemed so important. Something about there being so much ahead of me… What the fuck was it that she said?

Whicked:

Wrath: Once I woke up, my head felt like complete shit. The pounding headache, along with the muffled recollection of all that had happened made me want to vomit. That’s not even to mention the sounds of all the hospital equipment beeping and making noises. “Shut this shit up!” I screamed as I swung my arms out wide, hoping to push some of it away. I wasn’t super thrilled to have anyone in the room, poking and prodding at me, or inquisitioning me, but my head felt like it was about to explode and if someone didn’t shut this crap up soon, I was going to stumble out of bed and destroy it all.

“I don’t need to put up with this bullshit from you, Tohr. Just get the fuck out!” I snarled, trying to muster up as much aggression as I could in the situation I was in.

Slender fingers wrapped around Tohr’s arm, “Tohr, please. He needs to rest.” Ehlena pleaded, but aside from flinging his arm out of her grasp, he ignored her.

Whicked:

I pulled away from Blaylock and wiped my lips with the back of my already blood covered hand. I sat as still as stone and stared at them. They were stained with the King’s blood, the King had almost died….in my arms. I started to shake uncontrollably and Blaylock looked at me concerned, his eyes locked onto me. “Whicked, are you ok?” I barely heard his question, it only dimly registered as I stared at my hands which I started rubbing against my leather trousers. “Uh...yeah, I um, I just need to go home Blaylock, can you get that Fritz guy to take me home. Now. Please? He watched me intently for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah sure, of course. I will do that right now for you. *He nodded to the door at the back of the room* The bathroom is right in there if you want to freshen up for the trip, you know clean up or something”? I got up as if on autopilot and headed to the closed door, behind me I heard the handset of the phone next to the bed being picked up and the push of a button. As I pushed open the door and flicked the lightswitch, I could hear Blaylock talking over the phone to someone, Fritz I assumed. I closed the door and stood against it. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before taking a few short steps to the mirror and glancing into it, checking out my reflection. My skin was white as a snowdrop against the fire engine red of my hair. There were streaks of blood across my face, the King’s blood. A few scratches from digging through the rubble I guess. Dirt and blood matted my hair, well at least the fleece I had put on was clean. I would hate to see how bad I looked underneath it.

Wrath:

Manny gave Tohr a hard look, but exited the room, anyway. No sooner was he gone and Butch was there.

“Oh, good.” Ehlena remarked, “Talk some sense into Tohr, please? Wrath needs to rest.”

His pleading was all for naught, though. These two shitheads weren’t listening to reason. They were just pissed off at me, so this was retaliation.

Whicked:

Wrath: I, in no way, helped the two asshats get me into that wheelchair. But, they were right. Between the drugs and the two of them, I was by far outmanned. So, after attempting to fight them off, and ten minutes later, I was firmly planted in the wheelchair Manny had drug in.

#IHateEverythingAboutYou #Chapter4 #EBRPG #BDB

2 notes · View notes

joonsoulmap-archived · 7 years

Text

[ never will i ever ]

Prompt: Enemies To Lovers What: BTS Drabble/Oneshot Genre: Fluff Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Wiords: 3k

Summary: Your best friend is an idol and being an idol comes with its trappings. When she tells you that she’s signed up for We Got Married, you’re super excited for her. You are less enthused when you find out who her partner is going to be. Your teenage nemesis - Kim Taehyung

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Y/N!! Open up!! Wake up ya binch!!!” a shrill voice says in a register that can only be described as excited.

You shoot up in bed, the blood rushing to your head quickly causing the room to spin a bit. Squinting at the clock, you register the time, it’s 7 am. For fuck’s sake, why is this dumbass waking you up this early. Sometimes her enthusiasm is irritating.

You contemplate going back to sleep, debating whether it’s worth to let your best friend murder you for a few more hours of sleep.

Then you hear another frantic knocking spell.

“Y/NNNNNN…. get your lazy ass out of bed or I’m going to open the door with the spare key hidden in….”

“Oi!!!” you shout from inside the apartment, “We don’t need my whole floor knowing where I keep my spare key!!”

“Then open the damn door!!!” Jang-mi yells back with gusto.

Your curse the day you became friends with Park Jang-mi. Your life had never been the same. She seems to have taken the motto “Carpe Diem” as a personal goal. Your weary soul needs rest.

Grumbling you put on your comfy robe over your pajamas and make your way to the door.

You barely have the door unlocked when Jang-mi comes barreling in. What infuriates you the most is that she looks the picture of perfection, hair done, make up perfect. “Yah, why do you look like you’re going to an award show at 7 fucking am” you say in a sulking tone because you both know there’s no malice in there.

“Excuse me did you forget? I’m an idol, I always have to be the picture of perfection. One wrong HQ fansite picture and my career is donezos” Jang-mi replies in a sickly sweet voice, which she knows gets on your nerves

“Ugh man I will never understand you guys’ world” you replied, rolling your eyes, standing in stark contrast to your best friend, with your messy hair, bad breath, and sleep crusty eyes.

“ANYWAYYYY, the reason I came here at this god forsaken hour is that I have big news and you’re the first person I wanted to share it with!!” she squealed warmly.

“Umm ok, it sounds important, let me put a pot of coffee on.” you say. You need the life giving liquid if you want to stay awake for this conversation.

“Yes please, coffee sounds amazing” Jang-mi replies as she walks towards the couch in your lounge, settling down comfortably with her legs spread out.

“Idol my ass.” you say under your breath and chuckle, but you’re secretly pleased that your best friend has a place where she can be herself; away from prying eyes.

Setting down two steaming mugs of Sumatra’s finest on the table, you look over to your best friend curiously. “So what exactly is it that made you almost break down my door at 7 am?” you finally ask

“I’m getting married!!” she yells out and your head snaps from the cup to your best friend. The shock must be clear on your face because she hastily continues, “Not real life married, relax. If I was dating anyone, you’d be the first to know duh.” she says with annoyance as if it’s a fact.

“I’m still lost, you’re getting married….?” you ask again.

“You remember I told you about the conversation I had with my manager? About raising my profile? The group’s becoming more popular, but I just need the extra push. Finally he’s found me the best thing!” each syllable came out faster and more excited than the last. This is clearly something she’s thrilled about, you think to yourself.

“He managed to get me on We Got Married!!” Jang-mi finally lets the cat out of the bag, throwing her arms in the air in celebration.

“Whaaattttt??!! We Got Married??? Omg, I love that show soo much!! Aaaahh, I’m so excited and so jealous of you wench!! That’s amazing! Perfect for your career and image!!” you can’t help squeal along with your best friend.

The show is one of your absolute favourites, despite your curmudgeon appearance, you are a romantic at heart. You know the relationships on the show are fake but you can’t help get carried away with the mushiness of it all! Blame it on the editors!

“Wait till you hear who my “husband” is going to be! You’re going to be yelling your lungs out with joy. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get a lot of hate mail soon.” she says with a smirk, clearly not fazed by the possibility of dealing with crazy fangirls.

“Oooooh, who is it? A fellow idol? An actor? Don’t leave me hanging!!” you say in an agitated tone to your best friend who is now walking over to your fridge, undoubtedly to make herself a snack.

“Oh no one special, just a member of probably the most popular boy band these days.” she says smugly, enjoying how your face has contorted with distaste at her coyness.

“Please tell me it’s not Chanyeol, I will kill you with my own hands. DON’T BREAK THE BRO CODE!!!” you practically yell at her.

“Omg chill, I’m not getting fake married to your future husband. It’s actually V, umm, Taehyung from BTS.” Jang-mi finally tells you.

You splutter out the sip of coffee you are taking, almost choking on the liquid. Jang-mi runs to you when she sees you struggling a little for air.

“Are you ok? Take it easy, don’t inhale your drink.” she laughs as she rubs your back.

Your eyes are mere slits as you look at your best friend, “Who did you say was cast as your husband? Taehyung? As in Kim Taehyung from Daegu?” you manage to say through gritted teeth.

“Uh huh, that’s his name, not sure about his hometown. Why? You’re not a fan? I thought you loved BTS’ music?” she says worriedly with a hint of confusion.

“A FAN?? There’s no way in hell I would be a fan of the guy who made my life a living hell in middle school. He’s such a jerk!! The absolute worst!” your words are coming out fast and angry, which scares your best friend.

“Calm down Y/N, what are you talking about? I’ve met him a few times at music shows, he seems like a sweet guy, always polite and friendly. You went to middle school with him? Maybe you’re confusing him with someone else.” Jang-mi looks at your skeptically.

“Nope, it’s him alright, I’d recognise that stupid face and that dumb rectangular smile anywhere.” you say as faded childhood memories come back to you in pieces.

6th Grade:

“Haha look at Miss Greasy Pigtails, she’s so slow, she wouldn’t even win second place if it was a two person race!! Next time, you should just partner with me, at least you won’t embarrass our class like this.”

7th Grade:

“Hi Miss G.P., did you even look at the mirror before coming to school today? That flower headband looks stupid on you. Look everyone, Y/N’s trying to be a pretty girl but it’s not working awww.”

8th Grade:

“Your shoes are sooo old and gross. If you need shoes, tell me my uncle owns a shoe store, I’m sure I can get Miss G.P. a discount.”

9th Grade:

“Soo…crying over Se Joon? Pfft what did you think, you’d confess to him and he’d confess his undying love for you? Toughen up princess.”

“4 years. 4 years of relentless taunts and teasing. He was horrible to me. I repeat, the absolute worst.” you said as tears started pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I will not let me best friend go through that man’s torture, he may seem sweet and angelic on camera but I know what he’s like in real life, I won’t let you go through what I did!” you say with determination

“Calm down Y/N, that was a long time ago, I’m sure he’s changed since then. Everyone does stupid shit when they’re kids. From whatever I’ve seen, he’s a perfect gentleman.” she says to calm your fears.

“The devil does not change his colours. I’m telling you, he will make you cry. Can’t believe I ever used to like him….” you trail of as a different memory bubbles up in your mind.

“Wait, you used to like him? This just made it more interesting! What happened? He rejected you and you became an anti-fan?” your best friend seems to be enjoying your discomfort at this particular memory.

“No…it just… I was going to confess my feelings to Taehyung, even though he was always such a jerk to me, so to gather some courage, I went to talk to our mutual friend Se Joon about it, asking his advice. Se Joon and I had a really positive conversation and he said I should go for it. I mustered all the damn courage I had and went to find him. Only to see him tongue deep with a girl from our class. After that I just…never mind. My dislike for him isn’t because of this, it’s because of his nasty attitude. He was quite foul with me for a few weeks after this incident and then came grade 10 and he left for Seoul.” you realize that you have rushed through the story without a beat, so you take a few deep breaths to calm down.

“Anyway, none of that matters, what matters is that I will not let you be treated badly by that man! Please tell me you’re going to reconsider this fake marriage thing. Or find another partner. Someone who won’t treat you like dirt.” you all but plead your best friend.

“I don’t know Y/N. I’ve all but signed the contract, the two of us are meeting at the broadcasting company’s HQ today at 5. I think it’s too late to reconsider.” Jang-mi tells you patiently.

“Noo, please you have to believe me, it’ll be an unpleasant experience for you! I want to protect you from that!” you say impatiently, you have to save her from this experience, you love her too much.

“I’m a big girl Y/N, I can take care of myself. I don’t think he’s as bad as you make him sound. I have to go now, I have a schedule before the meeting.” she says with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m sorry Jang-mi, I just don’t want anyone to treat you anything less than spectacular. You deserve the world. Anything less than that and I will hunt down the man and end him myself.” you reply sheepishly, knowing that nothing would come out of arguing with your best friend.

“Oh god, you’re such a pile of mush. Fiiiine, you can come with me to the preliminary meeting and if you feel like anything’s off, then I will reconsider it!” she replies with a grin on her face.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, I haven’t seen him in what, 7 years? But for you, I am willing” you reply with a sigh.

“Good, don’t be late, I will text you the address, and dress nicely. Think of my reputation.” Jang-mi chuckles before picking up her things and exiting your apartment, leaving you to your thoughts.

“Well, well Kim Taehyung, what a strange world. Can’t believe I’m going to see your idiotic face again.” you say to no one in particular.

5 PM, MBC Broadcast Station

“Shoot, can’t believe I’m running late, Jang-mi’s going to kill me” you mumble to yourself as you race from the subway station to the address your best friend texted you hours ago.

You’re out of breath and your hair’s a mess when you finally arrive at the front desk of the building.

The receptionist eyes you uncertainly till you say, “I’m Y/N, I’m here to see Park Jang-mi, she’s expecting me.”

She checks a list and says, “Ahh yes, they’ve been waiting for you, right this way.”

You follow the receptionist to the corridor with the elevators and she turns to you, “Straight up to the 8th floor, the meeting room is right opposite the elevator.” her tone is brisk and efficient and she’s already heading back to her desk before you can mutter out a thank you.

You step into the elevator and your nerves have taken a sudden hold of you. What will it be like? To see your tormentor after 7 years? He would have to be nice to you right? He was in public.

The ding of the elevator makes you jump out of your skin a little. You are here. This is it. Time to face the dumbass head on and prove your point to Jang-mi.

You clear your throat as you enter the room, expecting it to be filled with crew, managers, PDs etc but to your surprise it’s just the two of them.

Jang-mi and him.

He is making her laugh, and your war mode switches on automatically. If he’s making her laugh, this will be an uphill battle.

“Hi Y/N!! You’re finally here, I told you not to be late but your punctuality is a lost case.” Jang-mi says as she spots you standing at the door.

“I’ll make introductions, Tae this is my best friend in the entire world - Y/N. Y/N says she already knows you personally so I don’t think I need to introduce any further.” she finishes with a laugh.

“Oh really.. and how does the lovely lady know me….” his voice trails off as he finally turns to look at you, recognition dawning on his fate.

“Do mine eyes deceive me? Is it really Miss Greasy Pigtails??” Taehyung says with a childlike excitement.

You roll your eyes, pointedly ignoring him and speak to your best friend instead, “See I told you… it’s him alright. He’s already started to show his true colours.” you say flatly, glad your point is proven without you having to do much work.

“It’s just with you Y/N. Something about you just riles me up. I can’t help it. How have you been? It’s been a while. Are you well.” his tone is soft as he asks about you.

You’re taken bit taken aback but you decide not to let him faze you. You’re here on a mission. You quickly take a seat next to Jang-mi and across from him.

“We’re not friends, Mr. Kim, let’s do away with the niceties. I’m just here to convince my best friend not to get fake married to you.” you say in the coldest voice you can manage.

“Well well Miss. G.P. I don’t recall giving you permission to be in charge of my dating life.”

“This isn’t real Taehyung, it’s a TV show.”

“Why, are you mad that I may end up dating your friend for real?”

“Oh please, I’m just worried she’s going to be stuck with a complete and utter ass for the next 6 months.”

“Well if she’s managed to stay friends with you after knowing you this well I think she’ll do just fine”

“I knew it, you haven’t changed. Always the disrespectful brat.”

“Correction, only you bring that ass out of me; so take responsibility.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry Miss Jang-mi you’re a wonderful person but I don’t think I’ll able to do the show with you.” Taehyung finally says to your best friend.

Getting up from his seat, he looks at you for an instant and opens his mouth to speak.

“Are you free tonight around 8?” he says to you as he takes out his phone.

“Yes. Why?” your eyes narrow in suspicion.

“I’ll pick you up around 7:45. There’s this place I want to take you. Wanted to take you there ever since I moved here. So be ready on time. Your number hasn’t changed has it? I’ll text you.” Taehyung says airily as he starts to walk away from the two of you.

“Wait, what’s happening? Are you asking me out?” you ask him, utterly confused by the happenings of the last two minutes.

He stops in his tracks and walks over to where you are sitting. He places one hand on the arm of the chair you’re in and leans down close enough to you that you can count his eyelashes.

“If you think that after 7 years of being apart, I’m going to let you slip away again, you’re mistaken love.” his voice is soft and melodious. His proximity and his little confession is making your poor heart beat a thousand beats per minute.

He smiles his signature rectangular smile at you and gets up to leave.

He’s near the door when he turns to you again and says, “I’m glad I found you again, Miss G.P. See you at 8.” with these words he’s disappeared out the door.

Your echo of “See you at 8.” hangs in the air as your hear a loud rumbling laugh come from best friend.

You don’t know how it happened but it was certainly wasn’t what you had expected.

Kim Taehyung had just asked you on a date.

7 years ago:

“So what do you think So-mi, should I tell Y/N how I feel? I don’t think she’s getting the dumb hints I’m dropping.” Taehyung says nervously to his friend

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Tae. Look, she’s going over to confess to Se Joon I think. I heard she has a huge crush on him.” So-mi replies

“What? No. That can’t be true.” he says angrily, not willing to believe the piece of gossip.

“Look at them, look how they’re smiling and laughing. Looks pretty legit to me. Oh she’s coming over here. We should congratulate her.” So-mi said smirking towards Y/N’s direction

In a flash Taehyung has his lips on So-mi’s and his soon his tongue follows when he sees Y/N approaching. He knows she can see them.

Her confused and defeated face is the last thing he remembers.

#kwritersnet #bts writing squad #armiesnet #noonanet #daegulinenetwork #bts fic #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #writing #never will i ever #my first tae fic!#this one's for you amandieeeeeee #mine

212 notes · View notes

nerobombs · 7 years

Text

Writing sociopaths

(Want more? Check out my Writing tag!)

Sociopaths, psychopathy, and being “antisocial” and “lacking empathy” is one of those things where writers will try to use it to make characters seem “cooler” or “badass” for...reasons.

Part of what makes writing such a thing difficult is that modern psychiatry and mental health are considered more or less complete jokes by the average layman--seriously, try to think of a single real-world country that has a mental health system that functions well--and so the actual definitions of psychopathy and the research involved tends to be quite nebulous and even contradictory at times.

Nonetheless, from a narrative standpoint, “psychopathy” and “sociopath” are labels of characterisation, which means that writing such characters well can be boiled down to relatively simple concepts without getting bogged in all the medical stuff.

And as a sidenote: arguing whether or not characters “fit the definition” of being a sociopath is a largely pointless endeavour, because everyone characterisation is dependent on the author. It’s not about the definitions of sociopaths, it’s about characters whom the writer thinks is sociopathic.

And my main problem with most sociopath characters is that they’re boring. They are oh so very often tireless cliches built upon mountains of WebMD diagnoses, and ironically enough, completely predictable. And it doesn’t have to be that way.

1). Sociopaths aren’t better than normal people.

I genuinely have no idea where this cliche came from. You know what I mean: the "sociopath” character being a highly manipulative and charming important-person capable of twisting everyone around him and committing random murders with a smile on his face and inexplicably remaining highly successful in everything they do.

Y. A. W. N.

Every time a character like this comes up, it not only bores me to tears because they become utterly predictable, but every scene they’re in becomes annoying as shit because the author has bashed me in the face with “HEY HE’S A SOCIOPATH ISN’T HE COOL HE DOESN’T CARE WHAT ANYONE THINKS WOW BE FASCINATED”.

Negan. Ramsay Bolton. James Moriarty. I personally find all these characters--and characters like them--to be completely boring with all of the depth of a bent teaspoon. And because they’re boring, all of their quirks and “charm” becomes agonising because I just want them off screen (or off page) already!

It’s childish how fascinated some writers are with the idea of sociopaths being super-cool super-smart manipulative bastards who are ultra successful and get everything they want because THEY’RE JUST SO SMART AND MERCILESS DON’T YOU KIND OF SECRETLY ADMIRE THEM

Look, actual sociopaths--people who are anti-social--tend to be genuine pieces of shit that no one admires or wants to admire. These are recidivist criminals, domestic abusers, drifting in poverty and alienating everyone around them. There’s nothing glamorous about them. The idea that sociopaths become amazing Wall Street bankers or super successful rockstars is dumb, because actual sociopaths tend to be ordinary run-of-the-mill losers who just happen to lack empathy.

Jake Gyllenhal in Nightcrawler is a sociopath. Kei Nagai from Ajin is a sociopath. Fucking Eric Cartman is a better portrayal of a sociopath, and you’re not about to convince me that you actually want write a character like Eric fucking Cartman.

Being a sociopath does not make you intelligent. It does not make you capable or perceptive or cunning or skilled. In the context of characterisation, sociopathy is a trait with no inherent benefits or detriments in the same category as “likes the colour green” and “once caught a fish”. It’s little more than a description, and the belief that being a psychopath somehow unwittingly confers a character with super-charm and super-intelligence is laughable.

2). Don’t copy the diagnoses lists.

When attempting to foreshadow or describe a character’s sociopath status, try to avoid doing any of the following:

-Having them torture widdle baby animals

-Making them a pedophile

-Having them break out into random episodes of violence

-Including “weird” sexual perversions

-Any combination of the above

Look, what makes a true sociopath a frightening prospect is the idea that they’re a threat disguised as a perfectly functioning human being. And when you’re “disguising” a sociopath, you’re not just disguising them to the other characters in the narrative: you have to disguise them to the audience too.

Try being a little bit subtle. It’s pointless to have your “sociopath” character suddenly become the Marquis de Sade because it immediately removes any sense of threat they could possibly pose. It boils down basically any complexity they could have to “well uh they’re a sociopath so it’s just what they do”.

There’s no ambiguity or tension when you write a character like this. Write someone like that and I guarantee that your audience will instantly identify them as crazy people, and any random murders they commit will be no surprise at all.

And that’s boring.

3). “Lack of empathy” does not mean “stupid and random”.

Why would a sociopath who is, for example, a perfectly normal law-abiding citizen, randomly go out and murder a puppy or stab a schoolgirl?

Oh, it’s because they’re a sociopath! They don’t feel the pain of others and can’t understand emotions!

Get. Out.

It’s this trait of cliche-sociopathy that annoys me the most because it’s the one responsible for the stupid and idiotic acts of random violence that Hollywood Sociopaths engage in.

Look, there are plenty of completely logical, valid, emotionless reasons to not inexplicably murder people, which sociopaths should be perfectly capable of understanding even if they have below-average intelligence. Murdering people is bad because it carries consequences. Consequences of the law, consequences of other people noticing that you.

In short, “sociopath” is not a reason to make your character “random violent Caligula”. At all. Sociopaths can be impulsive, sure, but in fiction you have to justify these things, and making a character “act randomly” ironically makes them incredibly predictable, and it takes all of the impact and weight out of all of their actions.

4). Know the difference between morality, amorality, and immorality.

Morality itself is pretty easy and self explanatory. Right-and-wrong based on population consensus and cultural tradition. Normal people are moral.

Sociopaths are frequently written as “amoral” or “immoral” with little consistency from the writer. Also, amorality and immorality are frequently mixed up.

Amorality is the lack of morality: it’s the lack of knowledge of what is right and wrong. A character who is amoral may follow impulse and instinct--essentially, they may become hedonists pursuing “whatever feels good”. This is basically what the “True Neutral” alignment in Dungeons and Dragons is supposed to be.

Animals are amoral, for example. They don’t have any morality outside of biological instinct. A sociopath can be amoral and also totally harmless to everyone around them. They don’t have morals and don’t understand moral reasoning.

Immorality on the other hand is the defiance of morality. The character knows what is good and what is evil, but just doesn’t care, or they get their kicks off of explicitly going against moral codes because of the thrill of rebellion.

The problem is motivation: what makes the sociopath amoral? Immoral? And no, you’re not allowed to use “because they’re a sociopath” as a reason. There has to be a justification outside of it, even something as simple as “They think breaking the rules is fun”, because that trait is independent of sociopathy.

Same goes for amoral characters. An amoral character thinks killing people is fun, but why? Is it just because he likes the feeling of adrenaline?

5). Don’t label your character as a sociopath.

The most boring characters are those who are written with an archetype already in mind.

You know, “strong female”, “demure male”, “good guy”, “bad guy”. Whenever you write a character with an archetype in mind, you make them two-dimensional because you’re using their archetype as the reason why they character exists, rather than letting the character grow into the archetype. They cease to become people with traits and they become plot vehicles with checkboxes.

This is a bit more broad on the subject, but most people aren’t sociopaths (I hope). Thus, when writing the character, most writers will think something like “I want this character to be a sociopath”.

No, wrong! Stay away from that light!

If you are fully intent on writing a sociopath character, you need to stay away from that line of thinking. “I want my character to be a sociopath so he should [x]” is the wrong way to go about it.

You need to justify their traits. Don’t write that they’re cold and lack empathy because they’re a sociopath, write that they’re cold and lack empathy because they don’t understand the motivations of normal people. They’re not manipulative because they’re a sociopath, they’re manipulative because they find that it’s the easiest way for them to get what they want without violence.

Reducing your character to a stock type is the surest way to remove any compelling material about them.

In short: all labels are earned, not given.

#rp #roleplay #writing #writing tips #character writing #sociopaths

35 notes · View notes