#wait no I know it’s that her guilt is centered around just 3 people. and I have not been able to care about them at all. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drefear · 6 months

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Sister's Mister

Summary: You and your sister are not speaking, but Miguel shows how much you mean to him. Will you be able to sort everything out and have a happy ending?

TW: family issues, sex, v in p, oral sex, fingering, fighting

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

Rain splattered on the window of the coffee shop you sat at, staring into the shocked eyes of your best friend and sister as you sat across from her ex boyfriend. Your hand slipped from his grasp as he looked down in what you could only assume was shame, being caught with his ex-girlfriend's sister.

“Are you two-“

“We were just talking after our class, we had a big test and it was super stressful.” You rambled, guilt making your tongue run on high speed before you could stop it. She just nodded, eyes wondering to his frame. You could only explain that his posture is uncomfortable, and she watched you both as he shifted away from the table.

“Right.” She spoke and you kept your eyes on her, mouth dry from nerves. “Class… and coffee… like a date.”

“No!” “Yes.” You and Miguel both spoke, both answering with opposite answers. You turned to look at him as he kept his face stoic.

“Yes?” You asked and he cleared his throat, nodding once to you and making you slowly turn back to your sister. Her face was caught between upset and angry.

“So it’s a date. Miguel is taking you on a date. Are you just that desperate?” She hissed and you shrunk under her words.

Something that was rare was you and your sister fighting, and that’s because it was easier to get along with her.

While you loved your sister more than anyone else, she could be cruel and vicious when she was angry and now was beginning to prove to be one of those times.

“You couldn’t wait to fuck him, could you?” She began to get louder and you turned to see people start to look at your group. “Nothing to say? Too much dick in your mouth?”

“Hey, that’s enough.” Miguel stood up and cut her off.

“Shut it, gigantor, I’ll get to you next!” She grunted as she pushed her hair from her face and you bowed your head. You knew once she was done, she’d brood for a few days and then apologize.

“Slutting yourself to my ex? That’s lower than I thought you could even go!”

“You cheated on me, how is she in the wrong?” He jabbed at your sister and her face paled a bit as her eyes flashed to him.

“You told her?”

“You’re the one who did it, Gianna. Why should she not know?” He crossed his arms as she tried to come up with anything to say- but couldn’t. She spun around and stormed out as you wished for the world to swallow you into the center of the earth to be consumed by lava. Or under the covers of your bed, that’d be fine too. Just anywhere not in public with a bunch of eyes staring and judging.

“Let’s go. I’ll take you to my apartment.” He announced and you grabbed his hand, letting him take you out of the living hell you’d been sucked into.

The drive back to his apartment was silent, your eyes staying trained on your hands. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

Thirty minutes later and you’d followed him into his apartment and sat on his couch while he got you both something to eat. You brought out some leftover pasta and you shook your head, wordlessly reaching to him and tugging him to sit with you on the couch. Your hands reached out to him and he pulled you by the thighs onto his lap, letting you straddle his hips and hold your back. He petted your hair as you began to weep, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck and letting out the anxieties you had from during that public humiliation from your sister’s tantrum. You couldn’t even blame her, she had a right to be upset.

The smell of Miguel’s cologne made you feel safe as his large hands continued to play with the ends of your hair, then moving to look at your face once he heard your crying become quiet. Tucking the hair from your eyes, he cupped your cheek and scanned to see your expression. “You look beautiful, even when you cry, mi amor.” His words gave you the sanctuary you needed mentally and you laughed a bit, the sound a bit harsh as if you didn’t believe him. He took this opportunity and leaned forward, his nose touching yours as he pressed his plush lips to yours without urgency, like he was savoring your slowly and memorizing the shape of your lips. You reciprocate with the same lackadaisical speed, enjoying taking your time. His hands wandered from your back to your hips and you pushed your pelvis against him before he stopped the movement.

“We don’t have to do anything.” He whispered and you nodded.

“I know, I want to, if you do.”

“I want to, fuck. I’ve wanted to for months since you wore that little white t-shirt to class.” He groaned and his hips jerked upward at the memory. You felt him getting half hard and decided to encourage him.

“Yeah? What did you think about?” You found his eyes and were met with darkened pupils as he panted slightly.

“I thought of licking down your cleavage and marking that pretty neck, before I tore those jean shorts off you and ate your pussy until you screamed, so the whole class could hear how I made you feel.” His words sent an electric current straight to your belly, making you let out a breathy moan and pull him closer. Grinding your hips again, his hands moved with you to continue the movement. He cupped your breasts and looked up at you through his lashes. “May I?”

You just nodded and felt him pull it over your head swiftly. He groaned as he saw the little plain white bra you had on and leaned up to lick your neck, sliding his tongue down between your tits. He pulled one breast from its confines and sucked your nipple into his mouth, moving his hand to rub you from outside of your sweat pants. You were overwhelmed by the flicking of his tongue against your hardened nipple and his thumb pushing the soft fabric against your clit.

“Please… I need you…” you begged, sliding your hands into his hair and pulling to ground yourself. This made him grunt a bit and switch to the neglected nub, nipping at it as he pulled your pants off of you. Sliding your panties to the side, he plunged a finger into you and hissed, popping off of your nipple and leaning his head back onto the couch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” his voice made you shiver as you gasped at the intrusion of his finger inside of you. Slowly pumping into you, he added a second finger and you jerked a bit, one hand grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself. His eyes looked up to yours and the look on his face seemed as though he was about to devour you whole. “I gotta taste you.” The look was telling, as he quickly picked you up and threw you to the side so you laid on the couch. He yanked you towards him by the ankle, trapping you under his body and pulling that same ankle around his shoulder. Bending down, he lifted your thighs and nuzzled his nose into you, breathing in your scent and feeling himself start to get hard. He wasted no time, delving into your folds. Miguel started licking and sucking you like he was drinking a fine wine, not even sparing a second and letting his tongue move inside of you while nudging your clit with his nose. Your body jolted from the constant fast pace he kept as he tongue-fucked your pussy, grinding up into his face as he left hand prints in your thighs from the bruising grip he had. The coil tightened as he flicked his tongue over your clit once more, causing your insides to stutter and clench around nothing. Lifting his face, his mouth and chin glistened with your juices, making you blush as you leaned up to meet him, kissing him hard and letting your tongue mingle with him as you wanted to taste yourself from his lips.

When you both parted, his eyes opened and showed lust-blown pupils that made his eyes look black. He spared no moment in sliding his bottoms off and watching your face as he let his cock fall free. Your eyes widened a little and you realized your sister was right. He was big, but he was also very pretty.

The tip of his cock laid on your abdomen and you gasped when it brushed against your already sensitive bundle of nerves, making MIguel chuckle as your response. His mouth found yours as you felt the tip push into you, the slowness of his hips making you practically twitch with need. Your thighs instinctively tried to close, but his waist was too wide to even come close. As he bottomed out, you let out a loud gasp as your mouth was agape, letting him explore with his tongue and making you moan.

Sex with him became explosive fast as he hit the soft spots inside of you and made your body flinch, jerking into his touch as his lips traveled towards your nipple which only caused you to move even more. As he sucked on your breasts, you grinded into the thrusts he pushed, moving faster and faster.

“So tight,” He whispered and closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against your chest, “perfecto, preciosa.” His mumbling caused a warmth to blossom in your abdomen, to which he pressed a hand against it and thrusted deeper. You saw stars, his cock hitting so perfectly against your g-spot that you let out a sharp scream, dragging your nails across his back and causing him to groan.

“Keep that up and I’ll cum.” He grunted and you nodded, “You want me to cum?” He asked and you gently bit his ear.

“Cum with me.” You said and he shuddered, pushing into you upward and hitting that same spot as your nails made crescent shaped marks into his biceps. He began to move as a rapid speed that you could barely hold onto him anymore, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to him tight. All at once, your head fell back and you saw white behind your eyelids as you felt a wetness form between your bodies, Miguel making a hissing sound as you feel him pull out quickly and spray his spent across your body. The sound of your heavy panting fills the room as he stares at your face.

“I’ve got you now and I’m not ruining this, I’m not letting you walk away from me.” He spoke slowly and tucked a stray hair behind your ear as you looked at him, his reddish-brown eyes scanning your face for a reaction. You just nodded, tucking your head into his hand and kissing one of his fingertips.

Your sister avoided you like the plague, ignoring your calls and locking her door any time you were home. Obviously, she didn’t believe your story, and why should she? Right after she caught you having lunch with her ex-boyfriend, you went to his apartment and fucked him. Nothing about this looked good for you.

Your heart always pounded uncomfortably when you were away from him, the anxiety of everyone’s opinions making you panic and gasp constantly. You only ever felt safe from everyone with him, when his hand was in yours and your head was on his chest.

You sat with your knees to your chest on your bed when someone knocked on your door. You held your breath until you saw your mom’s head pop in with a small smile.

“Hey, I came to tell you dinner will be ready in ten minutes, and that I’d really like it if you joined us. We’ve missed you.” Her voice was gentle and soft as you kept your eyes on your phone. “Honey, please. Whatever happened, we can talk about it.”

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy, Mom.” You mumbled and felt tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes. “I messed things up and I don’t think she’s gonna forgive me.”

“You two will figure it out.” She said, sitting on the edge of your bed. As you went to speak, your phone lit up with Miguel’s name with a heart and you snatched your phone to your chest as her eyes widened.

“Is that what this is about? A boy?” She sighed and looked at the floor in disappointment, making your gut swell with even more anxiety. “Miguel, right?” You nodded and an uncomfortable quiet filled the room. “Were they still together when you and him started whatever you two are doing?”

“No!” You jumped and shook your hands animatedly as she watched you were hesitant, careful eyes. “They broke up because Gianna cheated on him, and he realized he had feelings for me.”

“Then you just need to give her time to process this all.” Your mother petted your head, “I’ll see if I can talk to her a bit, but there’s nothing else you can do except wait.”

You felt her move and kiss your forehead, then getting up and leaving you in the silence once more.

A few minutes later and you heard your name from the dining room, walking to see everyone sitting and settling down in their seats when they all looked up and stared at you, as if they had seen a ghost. Your mom smiled as your dad was shocked, but your sister’s face soured and she looked back down at her food.

“Ah, what a nice night, right girls?” Your dad spoke, trying to start a conversation. You just hummed as he glanced between your mother and your sister before continuing. “It’s supposed to be sunny tomorrow, why don’t you two take a pool day?”

“I’m busy tomorrow.” You mumbled, but were soon interrupted.

“Fucking my ex boyfriend.”

“Gianna!” Your mother yelled in shock and she just rolled her eyes. “Watch your language!”

“I’m not wrong, tell them.” She glared at you, but you just sat, silently gawking between your family. “Tell them how you stole Miguel!”

“You cheated on him!” You yelled and she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Oh please, it was my ex, Charles, and it was one time! Not like it was his brother or something.”

“Gianna, cheating is cheating.” Your father spoke quietly and she scrunched her nose in frustration. “But, it doesn’t make dating your sister’s ex-boyfriend ok either.” He glanced to you and you just looked down in shame, making her smile once more. “Either way, this is all bullshit to me.” He clenched a fist, “you two have been fighting so much recently, and all because of this crap? Because of Miguel? Gianna, you obviously didn’t like him that much if you cheated on him, and-”

“He liked me before he met you.” You blurted out, then feeling bile rise in your throat as her eyes met yours, “I-I mean… He had a crush on me, but we never spoke, and he met you and liked you, but he figured out that you being my sister was just too hard to ignore his crush on me anymore.”

“You little slut!” She screamed and slammed her hands on the table in anger, making both of your parents jump.

“I’m sorry!” You shouted back and she reached to grab you, only being stopped by your father’s hands pulling her away from you. You shrunk backwards and fell to the ground out of your seat, shaking a bit. “H-He was the guy I was crushing on in my chem class!” Gianna froze and stopped struggling against your dad as she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me that? I would have backed off.” She huffed and you just shook your head, fat tears rolling down your cheek as your emotions spilled out onto the dining room floor.

“I didn’t want you to be unhappy!” You gasped for air in between sobs and she sighed, grabbing your hand and helping you off of the floor. “You were so excited and you liked him, and he seemed to like you, I didn’t want to cause any problems.”

“You should have just told me it was him, stupid, I wouldn't have even looked at him twice.” She pet your hair as she pulled your into a hug, your shaky frame weeping onto her shoulder.

“Gianna, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t help it, and then we got coffee that one time and you saw us and I’ve just been hating myself for having feelings for him.” Your rambling made her tense up and stay quiet. “I never wanted to hurt you, but I love him so much.” Those words made Gianna cough from surprise.

“Love him?”

“Yeah, I-” You stopped talking and backwarded away once more, but her hand wouldn’t let you free.

“... Then you should tell him.”

“What?”

“Tell him that you love him, if you really love him.” She whispered and tucked a hair behind your ear, the bond the two of you shared swelling in the air of the room.

You took her advice, knocking on Miguel’s door with intention. You wore your favorite dress, wanting to feel as beautiful as possible. You knew he was home since you’d texted him an hour ago and asked if he’d have time to talk today, to which he replied with a thumbs up and his schedule. He should have finished his tutoring session about ten minutes ago, enough time for his client to leave and him to get settled. The door opened to a girl with tight jeans and a seen through tank top, a pink bra showing through the white material. Her lips looked smudged and swollen as her skin looked flushed and you tried to reason with yourself that he wouldn’t, he didn’t… right?

Your eyes scanned her for a second before she gave you a quick little dirty look. “Is Miguel-” You spoke up as she folded her arms and kept the mean look in her eyes trained on you. “I’m in here.” He called and you heard his footsteps as he walked to the door. He looked disheveled as he saw you and a look of shock crossed his sharp features. “Obviously, I came at a bad time though. I’ll talk to you another time.” You sputtered and turned on your heels, practically tumbling down the stairs as you felt someone grab your arm.

“Wait, I didn’t think you were coming for another hour.”

“Clearly.” You spit out and pushed him off of you, stepping backwards and shifting down the last few steps to his apartment floor. “You played me.”

“I didn’t ‘play you,’ I didn’t do anything with her.”

“Miguel, it looks like-”

“That’s not what happened.”

“So what happened?” You felt your veins pop with warm blood as your upset turned to aggression. “Cause I’d love to know how tutoring for calculus became a physical activity.”

“That’s my roommate’s new girlfriend, MaryJane, and I was just about to get into the shower.” He clarified. You stood still, afraid that if you moved, he would laugh and say ‘psych,’ or look at your with disgust, or-

Really, anything that would make you look any more insecure and crazy.

He sighed, “You really think I’d do that to you?”

“I don’t know, I was just scared that you might-”

“Change my mind?” He smiled and moved to cup your face, making you tilt your head up to meet his eyes and melt into his embrace. “I’ve loved you for too long to fuck this up now.”

“Love me…?” You whispered and he nodded, lips moving an inch away from yours.

“Yes, I love you.” He said again and you swung your arms around his neck, smashing your mouths together and kissing him excitedly. Once you pulled away, he chuckled.

“I love you too.”

“I know. Gianna texted me.” He said and you gawked, a blush forming on your cheeks. “She told you?”

“Not directly, but she said that she’d kill me if I hurt you or messed this up, and that your feelings were in my hands now. I put two and two together, assuming you two spoke and fixed things.” He shrugged and you just tucked your head into his neck, nuzzling him closer.

“Yeah… Everything’s perfect now.”

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myouicieloz · 5 months

Text

Softcore

Kim Dahyun x member!reader

Synopsis: dahyun wanted you to reminisce the old times, so you snuck out to one of her friend’s gathering, but things get messy.

Warnings: drinking. angst. reader is recovering from an od episode. mentions of drugs. vomit. mentions of vomit. sensitive content. guilt, pain. tw: overd0se, recovery. everyone’s hurting. they’re trying to help and they’re stressed too.

Word count: 2.4k

Notes: only slightly proofread

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4 | Pt.5

“I still don’t think this is a good idea.” You told Dahyun, adjusting your jacket to suppress a shiver as you waited for the elevator. Your hands were clasped together, since she was too easy to lose in a crowd, and you clung onto the small girl tightly.

“Come on, y/n! You’ve been locked up in your room like some brunette Rapunzel for over a month now. It’s time you start living again, don’t you think?” She left the elevator without looking back, breathing in the penthouse’s atmosphere.

Dayhun had stormed into your room a few hours before, telling you to dress up for a reserved party the two of you were, apparently, attending. Naturally, you tried to argue your way out of it, but she had soon looked at you with those puppy eyes of hers, and you lost it, not having any other option other than doing as told. She meant no harm, you knew it was much; it was simply her way of trying to help you out. You just weren’t sure you were ready — yet.

Sensing your discomfort, Dahyun dropped her fast pace, making a turn to pay you full attention.

“I thought you liked parties. We enjoyed going together before… you know, the thing happened.” Her voice was full of hesitation, one you felt guilty of.

“It’s not that. It’s just…” You sighed, looking around. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”

Your sister shot you a bright smile as the two of you entered the lavish penthouse. The moment you were in, all the eyes were on you, watching your every move. You knew most of them meant no harm: they were all just colleagues, curious and worried to know how you were doing after such a messy incident. However, you’ve never been one to enjoy being the center of attention, much content with staying in the sides of the spotlight. This way, you could have the idol life you knew you were made for, but still maintain your privacy and reserved nature.

Of course, said privacy and respect—the ones you’ve worked so hard to earn— were worth nothing — now. You were back to being the prey, the media’s target and scared little lamb, deprived of confidence and courage to speak up about the things that made you uncomfortable.

Aware of that, you clung onto Dahyun even further, wishing you could simply hide behind her and disappear. It would all be so much easier for everybody, then. If you weren’t currently attending that stupid party, if you hadn’t fucked up your group’s reputation, if you hadn—

“Hello, unnie! How have you been?” Dahyun’s livid tone was quick to snap you out of your thoughts. She gave one of your arms, the one you were holding onto hers for dear life, a gentle squeeze, too, with her fingers tracing patters on your skin with such gentleness only herself could provide.

You don’t need to be wary, her touch said. I’m here with you.

Being the little sunshine she was, Dahyun was unable to go anywhere without greeting someone, chatting her thoughts away whilst you limited yourself to distributing a few small smiles and formal bows.

Suddenly, you found yourself caught in a bubble of people you knew too well. They all shared the same burdens and struggles as you did, trying to navigate the idol industry as best as they could. All the people in this big fucking penthouse were familiar to you and with you, somehow.

It left you with the urge to throw up.

“I will go find something to drink.” You told Dahyun, storming off to find the kitchen before her big, dark eyes were able to process your words properly. She intended to follow you, and she really meant it, but someone had just caught her arm and she got herself into such an interesting conversation—

She decided to check in on you immediately after the conversation is over, then. It’s settled.

Meanwhile, you opened the kitchen’s door abruptly, not opting to attend the bar because there were too many people there. Too many familiar people.

You still couldn’t deal with crowds. It was the reason you've been calling in sick in every fansign, airport dropout and outdoor dates ever since you’ve gotten off the hospital.

Not bothering to care about the staff who looked at you petrified, you merely bowed and hummed something incoherent as you made your way towards the balcony, filled with drinks. Thankfully, they got your favorite. Rum was nice, and the Coca-Cola would assure your body had the glucose it needed for you to not pass out, allowing you to not be sober and make this whole experience bearable without further issues.

The liquid tasted like heaven as it made its way down your throat. You hummed in pleasure— it had been months since you’ve been allowed anything besides juice and water. It tasted like secrecy, like sin. It was punishment.

For the first time in so long, you felt something apart from sorrow and guilt. As your nerves were gradually subsided, you poured yourself another cup.

You threw up on the bushes for the 4th time. It was your fault, you knew it as much. You were nervous, so you drank too much. It would’ve been too much even if you weren’t on your recovering program’s strict diet, anyway.

You cursed yourself, trying to get the long, vomited strands of hair out of your face with shaky fingers. You knew you weren’t done; you could feel the effect of the drinks on your fragile stomach, which still couldn’t quite hold anything long enough to provide the rest of your body the nutrients it needed to ensure you a healthy state.

Once again, you were dealing with the consequences of your impulsive choices.

Leaning the upper half of your torso once again, you discharged the bile onto the green leafs until nothing but your reflex’s sounds came out, followed up with salty tears.

You weren’t sure you could still this for much longer.

“Y/n?” You heard Nayeon’s faint voice from behind you, “Hey, girls. Found her!”

Soon, two pairs of small, strong hands were lifting you up and holding you against them. Their touch was so strong you could barely breathe— but, surprisingly, it didn’t feel suffocating.

If anything, it was comforting, nurturing. This touch felt safe, like love.

Your sobs were slowly subsiding, and you confirmed your hypothesis as soon as fresh mint invaded your nostrils. Jihyo’s shampoo was one of your favorite smells in the world.

“Shh, we found you, it’s ok.” She hummed, still not resuming her grip. “We’re here, darling. You’re all ok.”

You buried your head against the crook of her neck, sensing how the shadows of the others came into your peripheral vision through Jihyo’s dark hair. They circled you, providing a warm bubble as they waited for you to calm down.

Which, after numerous deep breaths, you did, unclasping yourself from Jihyo’s touch. You hated to feel the lack of her warmth, yet you knew you couldn’t hide yourself forever.

At least, not at the moment. You were exposed, raw and so deep in the imperfections you’ve worked so hard to hide from your bandmates and best friends. Your efforts were all in vain, once again shining through the cracks of your skin.

You tried speaking many times, always faltering when not a sound was heard. You desperately wanted to explain, to tell them how it felt to be exhausted, drained and confused about the mess that was going on inside of you.

Instead, you just threw up on the bushes once again.

“Come on, let’s go home.” Nayeon stated, handling you around like a doll as soon as you stopped throwing up.

“She’s clearly not good to go yet, Nayeon. Don’t push it.” Sana’s tone was sharp, and you looked up to find her staring angrily at the oldest member.

“Well, excuse me if I don’t want dispatch to show up and see Y/n like that. It’s like you don’t fucking think, Sana.” The member snapped back, crossing her arms at her friend.

As much as you wished, you couldn’t muster the energy to ask them to stop. After all, the last thing you wanted was for your sisters to argue because of you, or your stupidity. Before you even realize it, your teeth were knitted, and you were shivering, unable to keep your shoulders from shaking or your body to stay still. You felt a big, warm leather jacket rest on your shoulders, as another pair of hands held a firm grip on the side of your body, then.

“Let’s go to the van, ok?” Momo smiled, blocking your vision from the scene unraveling in front of the apartment complex’s garden. “We can wait for the others there. Jihyo just went to get dahyun before we leave. She was looking for you in the north area. She was the one who called Jihyo, actually.”

You nodded, not paying much attention to the dancer’s words. Still, you allowed her to guide you to the vehicle until you were sitting by the door. Momo showed you two small water bottles, handing out one of them.

“Here, take little sips, just so you won’t be too dehydrated.” Momo waited for you to acknowledge her command, smiling with reassurance as you drank, glossy eyes losing a bit of its previous dullness. “Perfect, baby. Now, I’ll use this one to clean your hair, ok? Her hands went to your chin, to hold your head into place, and you winced once you felt a few droplets of cold water reach your skin. “I’m sorry, I know you’re shivering, but we have to get your hair clean. Just stay still for me, please? It won’t take long, promise.”

You did as told, sighing in relief once Momo’s fingers untangled the front strands of your humid hair. She murmured praises after she got her task done with, helping you to get properly seated. You waited for the others in silence, and only thing grounding you was Momo’s warm touch around your shoulders. She caressed your hair, too, and soon you could feel sleep overcome the nausea, making it difficult for your eyes to stay open. You didn’t give in, though. You were terrified of waking up alone, without them by your side.

Fortunately, the rest of the girls got inside soon, too. You felt relieved to see Sana and Nayeon standing next to each other, whispering in hushed tones as they sent you worried, reassuring smiles every once in a while. Jihyo kissed your cheek, exchanging a silent conversation with Momo before going to the passenger’s seat, which left Dahyun, who hesitantly made her way to you.

She looked like a mess: her eyes were swollen, and her cheeks were red, clearly from crying. Her hair, always neatly in place, was pretty much disheveled, as if she’d messed it up in hopes of easing her nervousness.

You knew that as a fact; you knew Dahyun as much as she knew you. You were sisters, after all.

“I-I'm sorry.” You managed to say, in a weakened tone. Dahyun’s mouth dropped into an “o”, clearly stunned, and she chocked on her saliva. You didn’t let her say anything, though, gaining confidence from Momo’s reassuring grip on your skin. “I fucked it up. I shouldn’t have had anything to drink. It’s my fault, only.”

Dahyun looked up, unable to keep the tears from streaming down her face. She was relieved to know you weren’t mad at her, but also completely enraged at herself for being the reason you were in such a state. So small and frail, like a porcelain doll.

That was what you were: their little doll, for the girls to take care of, dote and love. Once again, Dahyun had failed that. She despised herself for it.

“It’s my fault, little angel. My fault.” Dahyun gave you a sad smile, caressing your face. “I… I thought it would give you good memories, to sneak out and party a little, like we used to. I’m to blame: I brought you here, and I left you by yourself, too. I’m so, so sorry.”

You shook your head, hugging her as hard as you could in your weakened state. The van was moving too much, and you were starting to feel nauseous again, yet you didn’t say a word. You simply held Dahyun close to you, reminiscing the fun times you had: when you’d party, laugh, and be extremely hangover, coming home by sunrise while the others pretended not to hear your drunken clumsiness whenever you tried to get into your rooms. Those were great memories, filled with laughter and the opportunity of being normal for a few hours. Just a girl attending a party, for once.

You understood why Dahyun had wanted you to come, then.

“I know, Dahyunie. I know.” You murmured, caressing her hair, just as Momo had done to you. It was a cycle of pain and guilt, one you desperately wanted to end. And the only thing you did was fuck things up further and further. “Thank you for remembering that. We had lots of fun, back then. Right?”

Momo, noticing your breathing becoming quicker, and erratic, drew your head onto her chest. “Close your eyes, my sweet. It’s been a long night. You can talk later.”

You tried to argue, but it seemed as if your body had recognized the command instantly. Your eyelids grew heavy, and the last thing you spotted was Dahyun’s relieved, small smile at you, before you gave into darkness.

Your weariness grew heavy on the girl’s bones, too. They all left the van with exhaustion in their eyes, not a single word exchanged on the way to their apartment. Momo went first, carrying the asleep girl in her arms with ease. You didn’t even move when she placed you in bed with uttermost care, letting the others change you into comfortable pajamas as she went to her bedroom.

Nayeon left once she was done discharging your dirty clothes, too, followed by Sana, after the latter left you water and fruits on your nightstand.

That left Jihyo, who stared into your moving chest with her arms crossed, much like a statue, and Dahyun, small and quiet besides the leader.

“I really didn’t mean it, unnie.” Dahyun murmured, desperate for Jihyo to understand. She was having a hard time figuring out how to help you-- they all were, and feeling the older girl’s disapproval only made her feel worse. “I shouldn’t have snuck her out, and I’m deeply sorry. Please. I only wanted to make things go back to how they were.”

With a sigh, Jihyo finally looked at Dahyun, who eagerly returned the stare. Whatever the leader intended to say, though, was suppressed quickly. Maintaining her blank face, Jihyo excited the room, no words exchanged.

#sol writes #twice angst #dahyun x reader #jihyo x reader #jihyo angst #dahyun angst #momo angst #minatozaki sana x yn #nayeon x reader #kpop angst

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bitethedevil · 6 days

Text

The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav)

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems. (This is only the first chapter, it’s going to be a longer thing)

(AN: This isn’t super edited and it’s the first fic that I’ve ever posted, so bear with me. English isn’t my first language either, so there might be some odd words or weird grammar some places. I am an English major though, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too bad. This fic has just been gnawing on my mind since I started it yesterday. There will be more chapters.)

Tav took a deep breath to calm her nerves and adjusted her dress before stepping into the portal. She arrived in the foyer of the House of Hope in a swirl of embers and smoke. A tiefling servant greeted her politely when she appeared. Tav was ushered into the area where Raphael had brought them in the beginning of their adventure all that time ago. It looked the same, except the table in the center of the room had been switched out with a larger one.

She looked around the room in search of a familiar face. She cursed her companions internally when she noticed that she was the only one of them who had accepted Raphael’s invitation. She had thought that at least Astarion would have jumped at the chance to attend such a fancy event.

However, she was not the only person there. There were at least fifteen other people present who she had no idea who was. None of them devils. At least not as far as Tav could tell. Most likely, they were also favored clients of Raphael.

All the people around her were dressed in opulent clothing and jewelry. Tav felt grateful that she had decided on buying new clothes for the occasion, despite her almost attending in an old dress she had found in the back of her closet.

A drink was placed in her hand by one of the servants. She took a long sip to calm her nerves. She looked around for the one familiar face that she knew for certain would be attending, but the devil she knew was nowhere to be seen. Most likely he was somewhere waiting for the perfect moment for his dramatic entrance. Tav rolled her eyes at the thought and took yet another sip of her drink.

She suddenly noticed that a few of the other guests started looking in her direction. She jumped when she felt a hand being gently placed on her back.

“My, what have we here?” a familiar voice purred.

Raphael came up beside her. He was wearing his usual smug smile and even fancier clothes than she was used to seeing him in.

“I’m glad you came,” he said with a slight bow. “It shows that you have better manners than your dear friends, it seems.”

“So it seems…” Tav said, still feeling slightly bitter about the fact that they did had not shown up. “I apologize on their behalf. I’m sure they had good reasons.”

“I’m sure…” Raphael said with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. “But no matter. You are here. The guest of honor whose name went on the contract that ensured me the crown. Without you, there would be no celebration tonight.”

“Mm…right…” Tav said quietly while absentmindedly swirling the contents of the glass she was holding.

There it was again. That nauseous feeling of guilt and anxiety that she had also felt when she had handed the Crown of Karsus to him. It had been her name on the contract. It had been her who handed him an artifact that potentially could destroy worlds and gods know what else.

It had been the whole reason that she could not decline his invitation as her friends had. Most of her companions had wanted to turn a blind eye to the idiotic actions of their leader and forget about it. Tav needed to see. Her attendance was a desperate attempt to gain some semblance of control over the situation.

“And if I may be so bold…” Raphael said in a hushed voice, shaking her from her train of thought. “What a precious sight. To see you in proper clothes instead of that ragged armor you wore when we first met. You look wonderful, my dear.”

Tav blinked as she wrestled herself away from the anxious thoughts in her head to return to reality. She dumbly looked down at her dress and then back at Raphael.

“Oh, thank you,” she said and forced a polite smile. “You look nice as well.”

Raphael gave her a smile and briefly squeezed her shoulder before walking to the center of the room to properly welcome his guests and invite them to sit down.

The dinner itself was as one could expect when dining in the House of Hope. There was every kind of food that you could possibly imagine. There were also expensive wines from all corners of the realms. The servants constantly ran back and forth to make sure that no one lacked anything.

To Tav’s great relief, she had been seated beside a talkative stranger, so she did not have to sit through the dinner in silence. The stranger was a young half-elf, who introduced himself as Rolim. Tav could gather that he was a merchant of some sort. He was quite handsome with his sharp elvish features. He had blonde hair, brown eyes, and a bright smile when he talked.

Tav barely got a word in while he was talking, but she found that she did not mind. He talked excitedly about the success of his business and the new mansion he had recently acquired. No doubt with the help of a certain devil, Tav suspected.

The few times Tav turned her attention away from the young man, she noticed Raphael unashamedly studying her from the other end of the table. He did not eat, but simply drank wine while he looked as if he was barely listening to the two people on either side of him who were eagerly speaking to him.

“…Don’t you agree?” Rolim asked her and pulled her attention away from Raphael’s gaze.

“Hm?” she said, having no idea what he was asking her.

“That Baldur’s Gate might be a promising place to expand my business to. That is where you said you were from, yes?” Rolim said with a smile.

“Oh yes, it is,” Tav said with a polite smile. “Certainly. Although I have to admit that I don’t know a whole lot about how it is to run a business in the Gate.”

“I think it could be promising,” Rolim continued cheerfully. “Perhaps I could visit sometime, and you could show me around the city?”

Oh. He was flirting with her, Tav realized.

“Hm, yes,” she said with a forced smile. “Perhaps…May I ask you something, Rolim?”

“Of course!” he said.

Tav leaned a bit closer to him and lowered her voice so that no one else would eavesdrop.

“I hope it’s not rude to ask, but why is it that you were invited here exactly?” she asked.

“Oh,” he spoke in an almost exaggerated hushed voice to match Tav’s. “I can’t really tell you the specifics, but I am a client of Raph’s.”

Tav suppressed a giggle. ‘Raph’? No doubt Raphael hated that.

“Right,” she said. “I thought as much. Just curious.”

Their talk was interrupted by a clinging on glass. Raphael got up from his chair to hold a speech. He started out by thanking those who had attended. Then it turned into a predictably dramatic and theatrical speech about his desire for the crown and his eventual success. He then, surprisingly, also credited the person who had brought him the crown. He spoke warmly of Tav exclusively, completely disregarding her fellow adventurers, much to her discomfort since everyone was staring at her while he did. She forced a smile until it was over.

She was beyond relieved when it was finally over, and the other guests had stopped staring at her like she was a monkey in a zoo.

“It was you?” Rolim asked once the moment was over. “You defeated the elderbrain? Why didn’t you say? You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate!”

“It wasn’t just me,” she said a bit too harshly. It annoyed her that her companions had not been credited in Raphael’s speech. “It was me and a whole lot of other people that I could not have done it without.”

“Still, you did it!” Rolim said excitedly. “I’ve heard the bards sing of it even in my corner of Faerûn.”

To Tav’s luck, people were beginning to leave the table. She saw her opportunity to escape the conversation and did not hesitate to take it.

“I’m going to get some air,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Alright, but when you get back, I want to hear all about it!” Rolim called after her.

She walked through the house, desperate to get away from all the noise and curious looks for a moment. She found a balcony. She leaned up against the railing and closed her eyes for a moment while taking deep breaths.

All of it was just too much. She hated it. She shouldn’t have gone. She wasn’t a hero. A hero would not have handed the crown to a bloody devil. Baldur’s Gate might have been saved, but who could say what destruction the future might have in store with such powers in Raphael’s hands?

There was a reason why she had isolated herself after the defeat of the elderbrain. She never attended the events that she had been invited to by the city, because she could not look any of the people there in the eyes while they celebrated her. Her companions. Her friends. They were the real heroes. They had all suffered and overcome so much, even before the whole tadpole business. She might have wasted all of it by making one stupid decision.

She took another deep, shaky breath to calm her nerves and stop the tears that were threatening to fall. The view of the hellscape of Avernus did nothing to calm her. It was disorientating. It was night, but still it looked like it was day over the jagged and desolate red landscape.

“Enjoying the view?”

She jumped and turned around to find Raphael sitting down on one of the chairs behind her.

“You have got to stop scaring the shit out of me,” she said. “It’s getting old, Raphael.”

Raphael chuckled.

“Language,” he chided. “It’s hardly my fault that you are such a nervous little thing.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure your guests miss you,” she said. “I will be back in a moment. I just needed some air. I’m not going to snoop around in your house or anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t dare,” Raphael said smoothly while studying her with a tilted head. “My guests will be fine. No doubt they can fill each other’s ears with mindless chatter instead of mine. Sit.”

He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the small table beside him.

“It’s fine, really,” she said. “I just needed a moment.”

“Sit,” he ordered again. “Something is clearly on your mind, dear.”

She could hear from his tone that he would not let it go, so she sat down.

Raphael snapped his fingers and a hookah appeared on the table. Tav raised an eyebrow and looked from the hookah to Raphael. They sat in silence for a moment as Raphael prepared it. Despite her restless mind, she could not help being slightly amused at the odd gesture.

Raphael placed the mouthpiece at the end of the hose between his lips, took a long drag and exhaled the smoke smoothly. Then he offered it to Tav.

“For those pesky nerves of yours.”

“Oh,” Tav said and waved her hand dismissively at the gesture. “I’ve never smoked before.”

“There’s a first for everything, no?” he said. “Indulging once won’t kill you.”

Tav sighed slightly and took the hose of the hookah from his hand. She placed the mouthpiece between her lips and cautiously inhaled the smoke. She started coughing hard as she exhaled.

“Or perhaps it will,” Raphael chuckled as he took it back from her to take another drag.

As her coughing fit subsided, she felt light-headed. However, just as Raphael said, it did also make her feel somewhat more relaxed.

“Now,” Raphael said. “Tell me what it is that troubles you.”

“It’s nothing,” Tav said and shook her head.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said calmly. “I can see it in your eyes. I have my suspicions as to what could be bothering you, of course. Tell me and I promise you, I will not take offense.”

She looked at him. She did not know if was the effect of the wine, the hookah or the almost kind tone of Raphael’s voice that made her want to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him all those things that she had kept to herself and that had eaten away at her insides for months after the defeat of the elderbrain.

“I feel like a failure,” she said, her voice almost breaking at the confession. “We went through so much. Saved so many people back then. And for what? For me to hand over the crown to you. That was my decision…”

There was not as much as a trace of anger on Raphael’s face as she explained. He even looked somewhat sympathetic. He listened attentively while occasionally taking drags from the hookah.

“I saw it in their eyes, you know? I still do,” she said looking out over the balcony with an empty stare. “They didn’t say anything about it, but I know they were disappointed with my decision. I don’t blame them.”

“You are entirely too hard on yourself, mouse,” Raphael said. “You did what you had to do, as a good leader should. They are in no position to judge you.”

“No, they should. They should judge me,” she countered. “The defeat of the elderbrain was a product of their hard work as well. I robbed them of having a say in the final decision. I would never have gotten that far if it had not been for them, and I still spat in their face, and stupidly chose an option that might one day destroy all we fought to save.”

“Do not speak so low of yourself,” Raphael said in an almost angry tone. “It was your right to make that decision. You say that you would not have gotten that far without them, but that is where you are wrong. They would never have gotten that far without you. You made the difficult choices. You took on responsibility when no one else stepped forward.”

“But– “

“No, Tav,” Raphael interrupted. “I will not stand listening to you speak ill of yourself in such a manner, when you only did what none of your companions had the sense of responsibility to do. They closed their eyes and handed the reins to you when things became unsavory, did they not? Is that not why none of them are present tonight?”

Tav hated what he was saying, but he did have a point. They had once again looked away and left the mess to her. She would also have been lying if she said that it had not been something that had irked her even back then. How they would leave the decisions to her, but still complain about it when they disagreed. She did offer them plenty of opportunities to take her place, but none of them ever stepped forward.

Raphael knew that he had hit a nerve and softened his tone.

“They don’t deserve you,” he said. “I meant what I said in the speech, when I said that you were the one to defeat the elderbrain. Without you, they would have gotten themselves killed long before they could even reach Baldur’s Gate.”

Raphael took one last drag and got up from his seat. He stood in front of her.

“As for my plans with the crown…” he said and extended a hand to her. “Come. I want to show you something.”

She took it and got up from her seat as well.

“You really ought to get back to your guests, Raphael,” she said as she held the crook of his arm as he brought her through the house.

“And neglect my very favorite guest? Nonsense,” he said with a charming smile.

He brought her to his archive. Artifacts were beautifully displayed on pedestals. Raphael brought her to the pedestal in the middle of the archive. She squinted at the paper displayed on the pedestal.

“Is that...?”

“Your contract, yes,” he said. “It still is one of my most precious possessions.”

She looked at her own signature at the bottom of the document. Then she read the sign beside it: ‘A most-cherished client.’

It was sweet, in a way, that he would display it in such a manner, Tav thought for a brief moment. Then she immediately shook the thought away. This was Raphael, after all. She immediately became aware that she was still holding his arm even though they had stopped. She instinctively let go of it.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked with curiosity.

“To remind you of our deal, of course,” he said. “You never did read it, did you?”

“It’s in Infernal,” she said with a shrug.

“Perceptive as ever,” Raphael chuckled. “Yes, it is. Though, had you asked, I would gladly have translated it…Would you like me to read it to you?”

She hesitated for a moment. Perhaps, it was better to not know. There was nothing that she could do about it now, after all. Still…she was curious.

“Please,” she said and gestured to it.

Raphael smiled at her before he started reading the first clause in Infernal. It shook her slightly to hear him speak in another language. Infernal being such a harsh and guttural language. Raphael spoke it with ease. Tav found it oddly attractive, which was no doubt an intentional effect that Raphael was well-aware of.

He went through each clause, first in Infernal and then in the common tongue. Tav found herself, not for the first time, lost in the way he spoke and that velvety voice of his. Especially because he made a show of looking at her while he did it. Impressively, he could recite most of the contract by memory.

When he was done, Tav surprisingly found herself more reassured than worried. It did contain all the things that they had agreed on. Raphael would not use the crown to dominate mortals and the crown would stay in the Hells.

“So, as you can see,” he said and gestured to the contract. “There is nothing to worry your pretty head over.”

She glanced at the contract again. She did feel less worried, but she also still felt like there could be something that she was missing.

“I have never lied to you, Tav,” Raphael said as if he had just read her thoughts. “And I have always dealt fairly with you, have I not?”

“That’s debatable,” Tav said and looked at him. “We did exchange an insanely powerful artifact for a bloody hammer.”

Raphael laughed.

“An insanely powerful artifact that none of you would ever be able to harness the power of, in exchange for a ‘bloody hammer’ that your very survival depended on.”

“Hm,” Tav huffed stubbornly.

“Hm,” Raphael teased and mimicked her huff with an amused smile. “Come. Let us get back to those guests of mine that you seem to be so worried about.”

Raphael gently put his arm around her shoulders to guide her out of the archive. His little touches and his gentleness with her did not go unnoticed by Tav, but she found that she did not mind. Even though she knew better. She should be suspicious. She knew she should, but it was hard when the man was so damn charming about it.

#writing #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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iamnot-crazy · 4 months

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Stowaway Chapter 4

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Info: This is my first time posting a story on Tumblr and my first time writing a x reader.

Summary:

The reader is a slave to a nobleman due to her devil's fruit ability which allows her to control the emotions of the people around her. She flees to bump into Trafalgar Law and boards his ship.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

After a few days, you built up enough courage to face the crew you finally came out of the medical room. Law was doing his best to calm the crew's worries and fend them off from crowding the medical door. They didn't ask Law another question about your past after his response earlier sent shivers of guilt down their spins. But they continued to ask him how you were currently fairing which he would respond with a very short, "She doing fine." to them that could be a mountain of things and their worry continued. Law was the only one allowed into the medical room constantly coming to visit you to give you food and to update you on the crew.

When you opened the door you were surprised to find the hallway empty for the past few days you have been feeling at least one person by the door at all times. You quietly make your way down the hall heading for the cafeteria. As soon as you opened the door you were showered with "WE MISSED YOU!" everyone jumped up surprising you which caused your heart to begin racing again. You took a step back only to feel a strong arm on your back. You whipped your head around to find your Captain smiling kindly at you.

"I told you not to scare her!" Law immediately disciplines his crew scowling at them.

All their faces fall, "We just wanted y/n to know how much we missed them and care for them." Bepo spoke up looking the sadist of them all.

You just laughed and ran in to hug the giant bear. The rest of the crew join in putting you in the center of the group hug. You smile brightly feeling the love and comfort the heart pirates provide.

***

Over the next couple of weeks, you began having nightmares of your master taking you away from the crew or taking the crew away from you. Either way, you woke up in a cold sweat every night. It doesn't help that your gloves have appeared to stop working and you can feel everyone's emotions. If you accidently woke someone up during your nightly terrors you would be hit with their concern. So you tried your best not to wake the other crew mates and would find yourself wandering the halls at night to avoid your dreams. A few mornings Law would find you in his office curled up on your beanbag with a book in hand after he knew he had walked you to the bunks the night before. During that morning he would carefully close the door to allow you to rest while he took care of another task around the ship occasionally using shambles to quietly retrieve items from his office.

Some mornings the crew would find you sleeping in the cafeteria and not know what to do. No one wanted to wake you from your much-needed sleep but everyone's stomachs were grumbling. Law would see the gathering of people in the doorway of the cafeteria and would speak into you sound asleep. Each time he would shamble you to the office on your beanbag and your figure in the cafeteria would be swapped with whichever book sat on your bean bag at the time. He would go to retrieve the book while everyone flooded into the cafeteria. He would return to the office to find you comfortably sleeping on the beanbag.

When you wake up you pretend like nothing happened and nothing is wrong and continue to do your daily tasks but the dark circles under your eyes grow almost matching the ones your captain wears.

Eventually, Law had enough of hearing the crew's concern behind your back and seeing the state you have become. That night he staked out in the office waiting for you to return to avoid your sleep. You predictably entered the office 2 hours after you promised to go to bed. You turned on the lights only to be met with a grouchy captain sitting in your beanbag awaiting your return.

You turn to leave but he uses shambles to swap places with you now standing above you while you huff in the bean bag. "you are worrying the crew." he crosses his arms and leans on his desk. "why haven't you been sleeping?"

You cross your arms in a pout, "I can't sleep." you respond not meeting the eyes of the captain.

"I know that better than anyone. Why don't you tell me about the nightmares." he pried.

You slouch deeper into the bean bag, "I keep seeing Master taking me back or destroying the crew." you admit still refusing to look him in the eyes. "every time I go the sleep he's there, and if I wake someone up then I not only have to deal with my emotions but theirs as well. Everyone's emotions have been so high lately I feel their concern and curiosity. Everyone wanted to know who that man was and why he was threatening me. But if I tell them then they are just going to become more worried for me and I don't want to feel that."

"Have you been wearing your gloves?" he asked concerned.

You tore off the gloves and threw it to him, "They broke."

Law stumbled to catch the gloves to investigate them. He placed them on his hands and felt how light they felt compared to the last time he wore them. He summoned a room that was still extremely small but was much bigger than last time. He peeled off the gloves and looked closer at the stitching the woven sea prism had snapped in a few places limiting their powers.

"So you have been feeling everyone's emotions for the past week?" he finally spoke and you just nodded.

He bent down and placed his hand on your shoulder, "Y/n, you can come to me for anything and we can work out a solution together you don't have to do this alone." you sniffled slightly but nodded. "can you feel my emotions right now?" you turn to meet his eyes and began to absorb his feeling of calmness and confidence. You take a deep breath as your emotions start to mimic his and you can feel yourself calming down. Your eyes shift to grey answering his question. "good you can use my emotions to ground yourself until I can fix your gloves. I promise I can control my emotions enough to remain calm and collected for you."

You smiled gratefully and gave a soft nod. He got up and began to work on your gloves to find a way to stitch the lace prism back together. You watch as he does so as he keeps his promise to remain calm. Feeling his emotion take over yours you begin to fall asleep peacefully for the first time in over a week.

***

Law had a harder time fixing your gloves than he thought he would. The sea prism would start to affect him as he began to stitch and he would have to start over. He eventually had to give up and ask Ikkaku who doesn't have a devil fruit ability to take over the project. Ikkaku had a lot of questions seeing the sea prism laced in your gloves but decided not to pry and happily took on the project.

You followed Law around everywhere as he kept his promise to remain calm. Even in situations where he would usually be stressed he would look over at you and force himself to calm down. When night came he would sit in the office with you until you fell asleep before he would leave you in your peaceful slumber.

Everyone now seeing the bags under your eyes began to clear and the captain's calm nature began to relax again and ease their worry for you happy that you seemed back to normal.

Finally, after a week, Ikkuka finished the gloves. Law tested them confirming their ability to restrain your powers before happily gifting them to you. As soon as you placed the gloves on you could start to feel your own emotions but you couldn't help but miss feeling your captain's emotions and his occasional slip-ups of remaining calm.

You thanked him but continued your new routine of following him around the ship and crashing into the office. Every so often you would remove your gloves to feel your captain's emotions which mostly remained confident when around his crew but the moment behind closed doors is when you could feel his sadness and grief. When you began to feel his sadness rise when he would close himself in the office you would knock on the door and feel his emotion shift to calm and relaxed after seeing your face.

One night while you sat in the office you felt his sadness rise as he spaced out reading a book. You finally asked, "Why do you feel so sad and guilty?"

His head snapped up at your question pulling him out of his zoned out state. His emotions jumped around from startled to confusion until he looked at you and relaxed. He sighed knowing he can't lie to you when your gloves are off, "I have lost a lot of people in my life." he admitted avoiding your gaze. "sometimes I feel guilty because I am still alive when there are so many people who aren't because of me."

You could feel his emotions mixed with sadness and relief finally getting it off his chest. You get up and approach him with a hug from the back making sure not to touch him with your hands. You feel his emotions become surprised followed by relaxed and... Love...

He reached for your hand placed his fingers on top of your own and forced himself to share all his emotions with you. You were taken aback by his feelings for you.

You release from the hug and he turns to face you and watches your eyes shift to pink. Instead of responding you hold your hand out for him to touch and you share your similar emotions with him. The two of you smile before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a kiss.

***

(Technically you can stop here if you want a happy ending. I just didn't know how to stop writing and decided to keep going. )

***

Next Chapter

#trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #fem!reader

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dino-fart · 1 year

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The Bargain | Chapter 4: A History Lesson

Pairing: Namor x Female Reader

Genre: Action, Adventure, Romance

Summary: To say you had a complicated relationship history was an understatement. Your ex was well...Not of this world? Yet he seemed to always find his way to you. One day he shows up with his new girlfriend asking for your help. You promise to assist if he never shows his face again. What is it he needs you for? And what are you all going to find when deep diving into the Atlantic Ocean?

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” You groaned and rolled your eyes.

Atlas and Sypha now in their human form stood there awkwardly. “Hello...” Atlas gave you a nervous smile. Sypha didn’t make eye contact with you.

“I am glad we are all here.” Namor walked over to the center of the cavern. He turned to Atlas and Sypha, “Now, bring forth the scepter!” Atlas swallowed the lump in his throat and stood there nervously.

Silence filled the room and Atlas just shuffled his feet. Sypha covered her face and turned away.

“Perhaps I was not clear...Bring forth the scepter!!” Namor shouted louder. You peeked over Namor to look at the couple and raised a brow at Atlas.

Atlas cleared his throat, “I-I will need to go back to my kingdom and get it.”

“I specifically told you to bring it with you when my people came!” Namor growled in anger.

You searched Atlas’ face and shook your head. “Oh no...” You began to say, “You don’t have it do you?”

Namor looked at you and then back at Atlas with a crazed look in his eyes. Atlas rubbed the back of his neck and nodded slowly. Namor took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“I know where it was last, though, perhaps if we can all go together we can look for it? Strength in numbers, right?” Atlas suggested.

“I would rather die than go anywhere with you two assholes!” You hissed.

“Likewise!” Sypha glared at you.

“And to think your royal ass would feel guilty about nearly drowning me.” You gritted your teeth.

“The only guilt I feel is not grabbing you by the throat and suffocating you myself!”

“Ladies, stop fighting! We are friends here!” Atlas moved to stand in front of Sypha.

“Sure ‘friends’, friends who make out while your betrothed waits for your return! Or did you two do more than that, huh?” Sypha got in Atlas’ face.

“My queen! That is in the past!”

“Yet this surface-dwelling wench is here!” Sypha growled pointing to you.

“Who the fuck are you calling a wench, you murderous hag!” You snapped.

“ENOUGH!” Namor shouted and everyone went quiet. Namor looked to Atlas sternly, “Where was it last seen?”

“I was on a trip near the coasts of Peru...It was our honeymoon trip...” Atlas mumbled.

“Wow, you took your lovely wife to the same place we had our first date, not tacky at all.” You scoffed. Sypha glared at Atlas and Atlas gave her a nervous smile.

“Then what? You just...Lost it?” Namor walked toward Atlas. He had enough of the merman’s stupidity.

“Y-Yes...King...Namor.” Atlas looked up at the king.

“Triton’s beard...” Sypha sighed in irritation.

“I see...Researcher!” Namor turned around to face you.

“Yes?” You asked.

“You and I will take this trip to Peru and you will help me get my scepter back.”

“Okay but I need to get home and grab my things.”

“Whatever you need, my people can provide. There is no room for delays.” Namor walked over to you now.

“With all due respect, your majesty, we’re going to need my things to find the scepter quickly.” You looked at him. You could tell he was frustrated by everything and you couldn’t blame him.

He slowly nodded, “Very well...The three of us will go now.”

“The three of us?” You said nervously.

“The King of Atlantis will come to right his wrong. And the Queen will stay here, to make sure you cooperate.” Namor glared at Atlas. You let out an angry groan and shook your head. “If it will make your research smoother, I will ensure his silence.” Namor looked at you. You looked back at him and noticed how he was trying to comfort you. Was comfort even the right word? He was just making sure you were focused on this, right?

“I would welcome that, thank you, your highness.” You nodded.

You opened the door to your home and made your way to the library. Namor who was still adorned in his royal garb walked in behind you. Atlas, still in his human form, was almost naked save for his shorts. They followed you to the library and Namor let out an audible gasp. Your library was a circular room with a desk and a chair in the middle. There was a spiraling staircase that led to the second floor. The chandelier lighting in the middle perfectly displayed the beauty of the mahogany wood of the bookcases.

“I see what you mean when you said books. Your home is a wealth of knowledge.” Namor walked over to the bookcase and gently ran his fingers on the spines of the books.

You walked over to him and smiled, “Years of research.”

“These are your books?” He said surprised.

“Most of them. You have your murals, I have my books.”

“Perhaps after...I may read some?”

You blushed a little at how genuine his question was. “Sure, if you don’t end up killing me.” You joked.

“I have no intention of harming you, researcher. So long we get to our goal, I have no qualms with you.” Namor then read your name on one of the books' spines’.

“That’s good to know.” You watched him trace the letters of your name.

He said your name out loud and repeated it a few times to get familiar. “Your name, what does it mean, what language does it hail from?” You answered his question and he smiled at you. “Your name is beautiful.” You felt your cheeks heat up and gazed into the powerful man’s eyes.

“Ahem.” Atlas cleared his throat. You both turned to him with a scowl. “I do believe you said we need to be hasty, King Namor.” Atlas reminded.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the other side of the case where there was a bust. You stared into the eyes of the bust and it scanned your irises. The bookcase then parted to reveal another room inside. The three of you walked in.

“These are where you keep your findings,” Namor observed seeing the various display cases with artifacts inside.

“The ones that are too dangerous.”

“How so?”

“A story for another time, your majesty. I need to get my weapons and get into more...Suitable clothes. It’ll only be a moment. And Atlas...Don’t fucking touch anything.” You glared at the blonde. You disappeared into the right wing of the room.

Atlas stood by the exit that led to your library and twiddled his thumbs.

Namor began to explore the artifact room being careful not to touch anything. “King Atlas, you told me about what the researcher has done but tell me about you two. What is your history?” Namor asked the other sea king.

Atlas looked down at his thumbs and let out a sad sigh. “We were once lovers...I was wounded on the shore and she saved my life...It was love at first sight...Until my duty called me back to the waters. I wanted to bring her with me, for her to be my queen or whatever the kingdom would allow. As long as she was with me...I wanted to bring her to my kingdom and meet my father...But he passed...Then my brother told me I could be human forever and stay with her and he would rule Atlantis. I said no, my father would be disgraced by me. He kidnapped her and Queen Sypha, who was my betrothed at the time. He made me choose and...I chose Sypha. I loved her too. The three of us managed to overpower my brother and stop him for good...Then that’s when everything went downhill...” Atlas finally looked up at Namor.

Namor tilted his head at the blonde man and silently asked him to continue the story.

“Sypha tried to drown me.” You finished Atlas’ sentence by approaching the two from behind. You had changed to a black and blue tank top with wet suit material, brown pants, black combat boots, and black leather gloves. Your hair was tied in a high ponytail. Your weapons you had on included: a gun holster around your right thigh, a sickle with a red handle hanging from your left hip, a satchel attached to your belt, and a bow and quiver filled with arrows. “Ready to go or do you want to continue the history lesson?” You raised a brow at Atlas.

Atlas was quiet and Namor looked at you in awe. “Dressed like a true warrior.”

“Save for the fancy jewelry.” You smirked at him.

The three of you left your home and made it back to the shoreside you all came from.

Namor turned and offered his hand to you, “To Peru.”

“To Peru.” You nodded and put your hand in his.

Author’s Note: I forget to mention that this fic doesn’t take place during any of the events of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever! Lmao sorry for mentioning this on chapter 4 XD

Dividers By: @firefly-graphics

Tagging: @clea-strange-is-the-way, @bontensbabygirl, @deputy-videogamer, @anthonyedwinstark, @fangirlingbookworm1, @theyluvremi, @bbylime, @redcrayonsforwanda, @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame, @missbeverlyhills, @bluskyy30, @sonadowloverf-blog, @spctorstrnge, @justanotherfanhere, @britty443, @lilithskywalker, @tzurue, @lego0city123, @livingdeadgirl7, @bl6o6dy, @didneyworld13, @bookfrog247, @thicc101q, @angel-bi666, @witchxlove, @omgsuperstarg, @andy-wandy, @queenotaku23, @maripositanoctruna, @ursecondbirthmom, @jupiterclipse, @pauline-s12, @spookymicrowave, @darkfairymoon, @gemini5991, @littleficreccs, @3am-at-a-party, @hotdoglamp, @supernaturallover2002, @natchayaphorn, @sixthgun98, @xwackk, @strvbelities, @internetmultifandomfangirl, @yawny0-0, @girlmythlegend, @lotsoffandomsandsoftpeeps, @ameliabs-world, @dvaine-mercy, @sadslasher13, @jylanlove12, @boxbraidboo, @secretpostts

#namor x reader #namor x you

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book-place · 1 year

Text

Guilty Conscience

Warnings: tasm spoilers, mention of character death, panic attacks, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Peter Parker x sister reader

Request: Hey, I have a request! who knows a oneshot where Peter Parker's younger sister feels guilty for Uncle Ben's death for having participated in the whole event up close and feeling that she should have done something (even though she is only 12(?) years old and really couldn't have done much about it) and starts to pull away from May and Peter because of this (and also because Peter started acting weird due to his "spider problem") and, after she arrives one day shaken from school due to an anxiety attack related to it all, Peter just tries to reach out and comfort her? (oh and if you can make it be TASM! Peter Parker I would be so grateful lol) Well, I hope you can understand what I mean and my idea itself lol English is not my first language, by the way, so... sorry if I missed a spelling issue or something! ps: I love your oneshots! your writing is really amazing and i'm glad it reached me here from brazil <3

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: You’ve never felt more alone then you did after your uncles death

A/N: Hi :)

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You rattled off a long sigh, letting your eyes slip up to the building in front of you. The intimidating, cold building stood there like a prison, waiting for its next guilty occupant. In this case, you.

But at the end of the day, it was just a school, and perhaps you were the only one who felt like a prisoner in the place of learning and popularity. You doubted it, though.

As much as you tried to ignore them, it was practically impossible to miss the way people would send you long glances- some with pity, others with amusement- before turning to their friends and beginning whispering to each other. As if you weren’t right there.

Though you had only been pulled out of school for a week, it felt as though it had been an eternity. An endless cycle of pain, guilt, and grief.

The best you could do was act as if you didn’t hear anybody or notice the way students parted in the hallway all around you.

You pretended as if this was just a one day thing, that it would go away as soon as the final bell rang. But you knew that it would last a good month before it fully faded from people’s memories and they stopped caring.

So far, you hadn’t yet figured out if you were longing for or dreading for when that time would come. To finally have people stop making you the center of attention, or to have people forget the reason you hadn’t been in school. The person it was because of. When that time comes, would they forget about him all together? Everybody? Would life just carry on as if he were never there?

You had begged your Aunt May to let you stay out for another week, but she insisted that the best thing that could be done for you was to send you back into the real world. She said that she would be doing it with you, going back to work on the same day.

And though she didn’t say it, you knew that she meant that you had to move on, learn how to live a life without your Uncle Ben. The only father figure in your life. One of the people you loved most in the world. And as of a week ago, the only person you felt like was still on your side.

For some time now, your older brother, Peter, had been distancing himself from not just you, but your entire family as well. And that stung.

The two of you used to be as close as siblings could be, rarely ever arguing, always getting along.

Your aunt always claimed it was the age gap, you being twelve and Peter being seventeen, but you always secretly thought it was because he wasn’t dead set like all the other teenagers at seeming too cool to hang out with their younger sibling. He actually cared about you, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

But then he was distancing himself, and you felt alone.

Sure, you had May, but you had never been as close to her as you were to Ben or Peter.

Though everyone avoided you like the plague, the hallways felt too crowded. Too stuffy. Too loud. Too bright.

You hadn’t even realized how much your breathing had picked up until dark spots had begun to dance in the corners of your vision. Only then did you feel the tight squeeze in your chest and the way your hands were shaking uncontrollably.

It wasn’t until you began swaying back and forth on your feet, stumbling through the hall slightly, did you realize that you really had to get out of there.

No longer caring about the whispers that would go around, you barged into an empty and dark classroom, closing the door behind you just in time for you to lose your balance completely.

Helplessly grasping onto the wall for support, you slipped down until your knees were touching your chest, breathing becoming more shallow and rapid as you gasped for air.

Your hands flew up to your hair and you began tugging at the roots, ignoring the sting that came along with it, the same way you were ignoring the way salty tears had begun to leak out of your eyes and make their way down your face.

That was how you spent the next thirty minutes, rocking back and forth with no thoughts other than everything that had happened to you within the week, everything you had lost, everything that would happen.

-•-

When you had finally managed to calm yourself down, you had decided that staying at school for the rest of the day would be pointless.

So, you slipped out of the building undetected and began your long trek home.

It was what you needed, you supposed, to have the comforting noises of the city drown out all the thoughts in your head.

You of course avoided the streets that reminded you of that night, the very ones that you were also mentally avoiding.

Now your problem has become physical and mental.

By the time you got home, at least half of a school day had passed, but you couldn’t care less.

You quickly shrugged off and discarded your backpack, throwing it down beside your shoes before trudging up the stairs, trying to make a beeline for your room before a voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Y/n?” Peter asked, peeking his head out from his own room as his eyes widened in surprise at seeing you.

You froze like a deer in headlights under your older brother's gaze. He was supposed to be in school as well.

His eyebrows furrowed, automatically taking in the way your hands were shaking slightly by your sides and your disheveled hair, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

A scoff escaped your lips before you could stop yourself and you rolled your eyes slightly, turning on your heel and stomping the rest of the way to your room.

“Hey- what? Y/n, wait!” He called, pushing off of the wall and scrambling after you, pushing on your door just in time to stop it from slamming in his face.

“Go away, Peter.” You demanded through gritted teeth, not even looking at him as he spoke.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He insisted, brown orbs sweeping over every inch of your face as if that alone would inform him of what he wanted to know, “You can talk to me, Y/n.”

Your jaw clenched as you whipped around to glare up at him dangerously, watching as his eyes widened in surprise at your actions, “That’s rich coming from you.” You hissed.

“Why aren’t you in school?” He continued calmly, not losing his patience with you. He never lost his patience with you.

“Why aren’t you in school?” You shot back, giving up on trying to close the door and turned back into your room, stiffly sitting on your bed with your back against the headboard.

“It was too hard,” He admitted softly, shuffling after you slightly and coming to a halt in front of where you sat.

Despite yourself, your muscles relaxed slightly at his words. You weren’t the only one feeling that way.

Hesitantly, he sunk onto the mattress near your feet, “You’re not alone, Y/n,” He spoke softly, slowly reaching out and grabbing onto your hand, squeezing it lightly.

Angrily, you shook your hand out of his grasp and brought it to your chest, where you crossed your arms.

A flash of hurt went through his eyes at your gesture before he spoke up again, “Please just tell me what’s wrong. I want to help you.”

“You want to help me?” You seethed, something finally snapping inside of you as you sat up on your knees so that you were eye level with him, “Well then where were you last week? Where were you when Uncle Ben died? Where were you as I sat in the middle of the street and screamed for help, to useless to do anything other than that to try and save my uncle?”

By then, tears had once again begun to roll down your cheeks in waves of sorrow, and Peter felt his heart break more than it ever had before.

He had been so caught up in his own grief and everything going on after getting bitten by that spider that he hadn’t even been able to see you, his little sister, only twelve years old, in so much pain.

“I’m so sorry,” He breathed out, tears of his own springing into his eyes as he drew you into his arms and to his chest.

This time, you didn’t fight him as you melted into his hold, grasping onto his shirt tightly as you sobbed along with your elder brother.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He kept repeating, burying his face in your hair as he spoke, “It wasn’t your fault. I promise you it wasn’t. Okay?”

You nodded against his shoulder, sniffling slightly as you hiccuped a little bit while your tears finally subsided.

“I’ll be better,” He whispered, “I won’t leave you like that ever again, you hear me? I promise.”

Two promises. Two of the biggest ones he possibly ever has or ever will make, but he meant them with every bone in his body.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747 @i-writes-things @popfishjr @mitsuki-murakami @mythixmagic

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #teen reader #mcu x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker x reader platonic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x sister!reader #tasm x reader #tasm x sister reader #tasm x reader platonic #marvel x reader

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writersminagerie · 5 months

Text

I know you

I walked with you once upon a dream.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Characters: Gortash, Vesper (durge), Karlach

Ships; Durgetash

Synopsis: Vesper and Enver are reunited. But it doesn't go as well as Vesper Hoped

Gortash. Gortash...

The name made Vesper's heart ache and they didn't know why. Had they known the man? Had he betrayed them like he did with Karlach? Had he been good to them? A friend? Given their discovery, or rediscovery, of their father's identity a friend like Gortash would make sense. But all the speculation and no solid answers was infuriating. They desperately wanted to have some part of their life to cling to. They'd be able to ask the Lord themselves when they finally reached Wyrm's Rock.

The fortress's main hall was decorated lavishly, and the benches were full of people. The Steelwatch were stomping around the fringes of the room. It would be a disaster to try and take the Lord on in the hall.. Vesper and their party walked up the center aisle, they could feel Karlach getting tenser that growl leaving her lips that meant trouble.

"Not now," Vesper whispered to her. "It's too dangerous in here with all these people. We don't want collateral."

Karlach shot them a glare but nodded forcing herself to relax. Vesper turns their attention forward, toward Gortash and Wyll's father. When the Lord finally caught Vespers eyes the Bhaalspawn watches as several emotions played across the man's face. Recognition, excitement, relief, then calm. He walks towards the group, eyes focused on Vesper. Like they were the only one who was there.

"And here comes my old friend to pay their respects," Gortash said with a smile.

"My respects?!" Karlach spat "you're lucky I agreed to not put my boot up your -"

"My favorite assassin returns to my side,"Gortash continued, ignoring Karlach completely. His eyes still on the sorcerer, anticipating their response.

"What... Hang on. You KNOW each other?" Karlach sounded angry looking between Vesper and Gortash. Vesper was staring at the Lord, searching his face, begging their scrambled brain to pull anything from their memory.

"We have important matters to discuss, my reunion with Karlach can wait."

"You should be talking to her not to me," Vesper said and there was a flicker in Gortash's expression. Like a twinge of pain.

"No offense to my old friend, but it's you I've been dying to see. After all you did leave us some time ago that put an uncomfortable hole in our plan. But.. Orin did mention your memories were quite lost," the lord scowled a moment before he gesture for Vesper to follow him. "Come, we need to have a talk, and it requires some privacy."

Despite karlach's loud protests Vesper follows Gortash gesturing for the others to wait in the hall. They need to know who they were, no matter how ugly it was. And they had a feeling that Gortash wouldn't hurt them.

The lord's private quarters smelled familiar. The Bhaalspawn stops in the middle of the room and breaths the scent in. Safe. Calming. Vesper stood still, their eyes close, hoping something, anything, came back to them. They remember the scent in the room, sleeping in silk sheets, and gentle fingers in their hair. A quiet voice calling them love, making them feel alive. Happy. Not just a puppet for their fathers machinations.

"Enver," They said after a moment, recalling the lords first name. When they opened their eyes Gortash is standing in front of them, a respectful distance away, with a soft, sad expression.

"I thought.. Gods, your sister told me you were dead," Gortash said his hand half reaching out, as if wanting to touch them but unsure if he should. "I thought I would never see you again. Do you.. do you truly not remember me?" The pain in gortash's voice made them sick with guilt. But vesper couldn't remember Gortash, not in any sort of solid detail. But their heart did ache, and ever since they woke up in the Nautiloid they've felt a pull. A desire, no, a need to get back to someone. Someone important.

"Something happened to me, I don't know what, my memory is fuzzy but," Vesper chances reaching out, their fingers ghosting against Gortash's cheek, "from the moment I awoke with a clear head I knew I was missing something, someone, very important." Gortash's lets out a shaking breath and pushes his face into Vespers palm like it's the only contact he's had in a lifetime.

"I can't believe you're alive, that you're here," Gortash rests his hand on theirs. There was a torrent of emotions in the Lords eyes but he seems hesitant on Acting on any of them given the current circumstances. "But now that you've returned we can continue with our plan." Wait, their plan?

"What do you mean?"

"Right, apologies. I was getting ahead of myself. It was our plan for ruling Faerûn together. You and I came up with using the crown of Karsus on the Elder brain to bend it to our control," Gortash said with such excitement and pride. When Vesper didn't respond, and had an apprehensive expression the smile fades from gortash's face and he pulls away slowly. Even though The lord was a stranger to Vesper at the moment they panicked as he backed away.

"You.. don't seem pleased at that revelation," Gortash's voice became even, he reigned in his emotions.

"I don't remember the planning or the wanting," they say quickly, taking a step towards Gortash, "I do know now, being given a second chance, I don't want to be a puppet for my father. And he was the one to orchestrated my deciding to try and rule Faerûn." The more Vesper spoke the more hurt and withdrawn Gortash became.

"Your father.. he was the reason you helped me.." Gortash spoke quietly, more to himself than to the Bhaalspawn. He grips his arm, and Vesper remembers bloody bandages, and careful stitches. A boy with shaggy black hair and sad eyes looking at them with fear, then relief.

"No! I mean, yes? At the beginning probably," they were reaching out, but every step they took towards Gortash the lord took one step away from them.

"It makes sense that Bhaal would tell you to take care of the pathetic cobbler boy," Gortash sounded angry, and glared at the floor. "Bane and Myrkul drew straws to see who'd be stuck with me, after you softened me up."

"Enver, it wasn't like that!" They didn't actually know for sure. They could only rely on a gut feeling. "I probably was told to keep you alive but I liked you! I.." The look Gortash shot them made their stomach drop. It was anger and betrayal. And it scared Vesper to death to think someone that was so important, so rooted in his past, was about to turn on him.

"Enver-"

"You've said quite enough. I believe we should conclude our discussion for now," Gortash turns away and Vesper grabs his hand. Despite how rigid Gortash becomes he doesn't pull away.

"Please, wait! You were the one thing I knew when I had lost everything else," Vesper squeezes the lord's hand, "you were just a feeling. But it was what kept me motivated to keep searching for who I was. To not just give up. But with my lost memory I had a second chance, I realized I didn't have to be what my father wanted. I didn't have to want what he wanted. I could be my own person and not just be his puppet... Enver we can be more than what our masters want us to be.

"Bhaal, Myrkul, and Bane won't play nice in the end. This empire they want us to build? it has to be a trap... please. We can both destroy the brain and walk away. Build a life we really want together."

Gortash looks back at them with an incredulous expression. "You'd walk away from all that power and defy your father's wishes? The wishes of a god? And... what? Start a happy little life with the person you were tasked with 'keeping alive'?"

"Yes!"

The lord sucks in a breath, his brow furrowed. It was a pretty unbelievable statement.

"I was already defying my father for you Enver," they said softly, "I can't remember the details. But I know.. he wanted me to kill you. To make you suffer and bleed in his name. But I couldn't, not you." Gortash's body was relaxing, but he was still visibly apprehensive. Bane had taken hold of the lordling's soul, he couldn't just walk away from it. Right?

"Your sister has decided to replace one of your party," Gortash finally pulls his hand away. "They intend to kill you and your new found companions."

"Enver.."

"Please. You have more important things to worry about. Find the imposter and stop Orin from killing them and any other members of your group. I know you'd be heartbroken if any of them were to die."

The lord turns away from vesper. "I must return to the great hall, and so should you."

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #durgetash #dark urge x gortash #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate fanfiction

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waltwhitmansbeard · 1 year

Note

Morning *waves*

For the touch starved prompts, "feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there" with Keyleth and Vax? Or with Percy maybe?

Thank you <3

feeling so lonely that they have to call their lover/friend, just to get a sense and reminder that they're still there hell yeah, i need more percy & kiki in my life

The sending stones are for emergencies. Keyleth sits on one half of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, and stares at the small gray rock sitting accusatorially atop her bedspread. It's for emergencies, like dragon attacks or that time a gaggle of ettins was threatening Whitestone's perimeter. If the stones are used frivolously, especially so early in the morning, when the sky is pre-dawn gray and the birds are still waking, they can't be used later in the day in the event of an actual crisis.

(Because despite the crater in her chest, despite the way she can't get warm, despite the sheer effort she must put into each breath in and out, this is not a crisis. This is just her life now.)

She stares at the stone. The stone stares back. All she needs to do is get up. She will get up, get dressed, and leave the house—it still smells like him, all these months later, what kind of magic is that—and everything will be fine. She will smile, and it will not reach her eyes, and the people of Zephrah will pretend not to notice, and after a thousand years or so of this, she will finally be free. She just needs to get up.

(And what would she even say? Percy, I'm so sad today. Percy, the bed is too cold and the house is too quiet. Percy, I feel like I'm dying. Percy, sometimes I wish that I was. No. He has a family now, a child who needs him, a people to lead—just like her. She just needs to get up.)

Her fingers reach out, curl around the stone. It is cold, its weight a condemnation in her hand. It is irresponsible to use the stone like this. She needs to do better.

She squeezes it, brings it up to her lips. It glows a luminescent blue. "Percy? I'm not...okay. I'm not okay. Everything hurts. I can't breathe. Fuck, I can't breathe. I don't know what to do, I just need—"

Twenty-five words. The blue light fades, and the rock is a rock once more. It doesn't matter. She had nothing else to say, has no idea what she needs. (She knows what she needs.) She stares at the stone, and the stone stares back.

(It would hurt less if she stretched and cracked her fingers out into Minxie's claws, reached in and tore the heart from her chest. It would hurt less if she twisted herself into a bird, all black feathers and beak, and took off into the sky, far from here, far from where his boots sat and his laughter echoes. Gods, she just needs it to hurt less. There are so many years to go.)

The response takes less than half a minute. When his voice comes through, Keyleth sputters out the breath she'd been holding. "Keyleth? Get yourself to the tree. Don't pack anything, just get here. We'll take care of you. Gilmore will tell your father. I'll be waiting."

They hit her at the same time, the guilt and the relief. We'll take care of you, the we being him and Vex, as if Vex doesn't have enough on her plate, her own gaping wound to stitch closed. But it doesn't stop her from following instructions, stiffly, robotically. She stands, somehow gets shoes on her feet and a sweater around her shoulders. (She keeps her nightgown on. She can't imagine staying awake for much longer—but then, she can't imagine ever sleeping again.)

Her body carries itself to the cherry tree in the center of Zephrah, placed here for easy traveling purposes. The Air Ashari still sleep. In the distance, she swears she sees the flash of a black wing, but when she turns, she sees nothing but the mountain air. She places her hand on the trunk, rough (like his hands) and cold (like his half of the bed), and thinks of the Sun Tree. When the bark twists itself into a portal, she doesn't even have to walk through. She is pulled into familiar arms, and there is Percy's voice in her ear, murmuring low, "It's alright, Keyleth. I've got you."

And she lets herself fall.

#ask #ravendruid #lmao i'm mad at you for this one bc you made me make myself sad #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #vaxleth #vaxleth fic #my fic

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formula-fun · 7 months

Note

Ugh, can’t wait for the final chapters and the sequel!

I swear, your writing is so good and detailed that sometimes I think I’m watching a real good show based on real life events and not reading a fic. How does your mind keep coming up with so many incredible ideas?! I bet you’re a genius and a kick-ass arch student!!

I wonder if Max would hold growing up without his mom against Charles? Project his trauma, loneliness and exasperation of being a new parent to a newborn baby and staying at home with her onto his relationship with Charles and unconcsiouly guilt him (like he needed more of that) for being mostly away and not being a “proper” mother? From missing doctor’s appointments, milestones to the baby not feeling as comfortable with him compared to Max.

I feel Charles not being able to calm the baby and the baby possibly not recognizing him, would maybe be more painful than the pressure of the external sources and Max? Like moms are always expected to know what’s going on with their baby at all times and God forbid they miss something.

My guess is their internal battle is still going to be at the center but for different reasons this time.

Anyways, I’m too excited and I’m sorry if none of this makes sense but I’m typing this at work thinking of ways to kill time so I can go home after thinking about it all day yesterday instead of my final presentation for school. So yeah.

Lots of love and virtual hugs to you!!! 💛💛💛💛💛

Hi my dear, so sorry for the delayed response!!

That's so sweet of you, thank you so much <3 I'm definitely super detail oriented at this point in my life, but it's probably having a positive impact on my writing so i dont mind so much dfjdfjkdfkd I'm so glad you like my little fic though!! its my favorite distraction from school so it makes me really happy other people are enjoying it too.

Kinda spoilery answers ahead so i'll put a cut!

I think the answer to that question probably relies more on Max's relationship with his mom than his relationship with Charles! if his stance is that his mom did NOTHING wrong and he is definitely NOT fucked up from his childhood then he's not as likely to hold it against Charles, plus at this point he'd do anything to make Charles happy. That's not to say this definitely won't be an issue, but he's more likely to worry about himself fucking up as a father and primary guardian than he is to blame Charles for wanting to continue his career. Mostly though he probably just really, really misses him

You're definitely right about Charles and about motherhood though, that's going to probably be most of it! Motherhood is hard, not being around is hard, missing Max is hard, traveling alone is hard and then there's also the issue that any postpartum effects he's had have had to be shoved aside in favor of getting back into the car as fast as possible. I'm not gonna get too into the team and the sport and all that but a lot of his internal conflict is going to be about whether or not this is worth it.

Thank you so much for the ask!!! I hope your presentation went well, or if you havne't done it yet good luck! would love to hear about it either way <333

#if i had words #writing tag

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storiesagehumileation · 3 months

Text

Something a tad different on one i have done a lot. let me know. i know at the start it repeats slightly

INT. SHARED HOUSE LIVING ROOM - DAY

The room is thick with tension, all housemates gathered with varying expressions of shock and disgust. Sunlight streams through the windows, casting long shadows that seem to deepen the gravity of the moment. LILLY stands in the center holding a small, black camera, her face twisted in fury. STEVE, a few steps away, is pale as chalk, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

LILLY

(voice trembling with anger)

Steve, would you care to explain this?

She thrusts the camera forward like evidence in a courtroom. Her hands are shaking, though whether from rage or distress, it's hard to tell.

STEVE

(voice barely above a whisper, cheeks ablaze)

I—I don't know what that is. It's not mine.

Lilly snorts in disbelief, her nostrils flaring.

LILLY

(sarcastic)

Oh, really? 'Cause it sure as hell looks like the one I found hidden behind the toilet cleaner!

Steve's adam's apple bobs as he gulps. His fingers twitch at his side, longing to fidget but knowing it would only betray his nerves further.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(This can't be happening. I just wanted— No. They can't understand. Got to deny. Deny everything.)

The HOUSEMATES exchange worried glances. Some shake their heads; others fold their arms in judgment.

STEVE

(stammering, attempting confidence)

You got it all wrong. I wouldn't do something that twisted.

LILLY

(fists clenched)

So what? You think a camera just waltzed in there and set itself up?

Her voice rises, filling the room with an edge that makes even the walls seem to recoil.

ACTION

Lilly strides toward Steve, invading his personal space. He retreats until his back hits the wall. Trapped.

LILLY

(hissing)

People trusted you, Steve. I trusted you! And you— you violate our privacy like some... some creep?!

Steve's mouth opens and closes, his usual slick retorts drowned in the tide of his rising panic. His face now matches the crimson of an autumn maple leaf.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (LILLY)

(He's lying. I see it in the way he can't hold my gaze, the flush of guilt. How could he betray us?)

STEVE

(defensive, a flicker of anger)

This is crazy! Accusing me with no proof?

Lilly's laugh is cold and mirthless, echoing off the walls.

LILLY

You call this nothing?

She waves the camera again, her arm trembling with the weight of her accusation. The other housemates shift uncomfortably, the air heavy with unspoken reproach.

STEVE

(pleading, eyes glistening)

Lilly, please. It's not what it looks like.

LILLY

(shouting)

Then what is it, Steve? Huh? Enlighten us!

Steve slides down the wall, his knees buckling under the onslaught of Lilly's fury and the collective disdain of his peers. The embarrassment is a tangible force, suffocating him like a thick blanket.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(I need an out. But there isn't one. She's got me cornered, and they're all watching, waiting for me to break.)

His shoulders slump, and he covers his face with his hands, unable to bear the scrutiny a moment longer.

STEVE

(muffled, defeated)

I'm sorry...

Lilly pauses, her breath coming fast and ragged. Her eyes, once alight with incendiary wrath, now show a trace of sorrow for the man cowering before her.

LILLY

(quieter, but still firm)

"Sorry" doesn't cut it, Steve.

FADE OUT.

3 - 4

FADE IN:

INT. SHARED HOUSE LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The living room is tense, the air thick with anticipation and unease. Housemates line the perimeter, expressions ranging from disbelief to disgust. Steve stands in the center, cornered prey, while Lilly towers before him like an avenging angel.

LILLY

(arms crossed, voice steely)

You have one chance to come clean, Steve. Just apologize.

STEVE

(sweating, voice wavering)

It wasn't me, Lilly. I swear it.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(They're staring holes into me. Can't they see I'm being set up?)

Lilly's eyes narrow, her patience waning, lips curled in a sneer.

LILLY

(firm, unyielding)

Lies are for babies, Steve. Only babies lie.

Steve locks his jaw, defiance rising against the threat.

STEVE

(stubborn)

I didn't do it!

Lilly steps closer, invading his space, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper audible only to Steve.

LILLY

Admit it, or I'll strip you down and spank you right here, in front of everyone.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (LILLY)

(He's shaking, but pride's got its claws in him deep.)

A muscle twitches in Steve's cheek; his honor is on the line. He shakes his head slowly, adamantly.

STEVE

(strained, almost pleading)

I said no, Lilly.

Lilly sighs, a long and sorrowful sound, before reaching into her pocket. She pulls out her phone with a deliberate slowness. Her finger hovers over the screen.

LILLY

Last chance, Steve...

Steve's eyes flick to the phone, then away, unable to meet Lilly's gaze.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(She's bluffing... she has to be...)

Lilly presses play, and the footage casts a glow on the faces around them. There's Steve, unmistakable, planting the camera in the bathroom. A collective gasp ripples through the room.

STEVE

(face crumpling, voice barely a whisper)

I... I'm sorry...

LILLY

(to the room, commanding)

Turn around, Steve.

Humiliation courses through him as he complies, his hands trembling as they fumble with his belt.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(This can't be happening... not like this...)

With a shuddering breath, Steve lowers his shorts and boxers, exposing his bare skin to the cold air and the burning stares of his housemates. Lilly steps forward, her hand raised.

LILLY

(hard, resolute)

This is what happens to voyeurs, Steve.

She brings her hand down with a sharp CRACK, and Steve flinches, a flush of pain and shame spreading across his features.

STEVE

(gritting his teeth, a pained whimper escapes)

Ah!

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(Every slap is a searing brand of disgrace, each echo a reminder of my fall.)

Lilly doesn't relent, her arm rising and falling rhythmically, painting Steve's flesh a deep red. The sounds of spanking fill the room, punctuated by Steve's muffled sobs.

FADE OUT.

5 - 6

FADE IN:

INT. SHARED HOUSE LIVING ROOM - DAY

Steve stands in the center of the room, his posture defeated, stripped to his vulnerability. His shirt lies crumpled at his feet—another piece of armor torn away. Housemates line the walls, their expressions a mix of disgust and disbelief.

LILLY

(screaming)

If you act like a baby, you'll be treated like one, Steve!

She grabs the hem of his top and yanks it over his head, casting it aside with disdain. Steve's eyes are wet, and his cheeks burn hotter than the welts on his skin.

LILLY (CONT'D)

Now dance, Steve. Dance and sing for us!

STEVE

(voice cracking)

I... I can't...

LILLY

You will! Or would you prefer the police see this footage?

Steve swallows hard, trembling as he begins an awkward shuffle, his movements stilted by shame.

STEVE

(Singing softly)

Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool...

The housemates murmur among themselves, some turning their heads away, unable to watch the scene unfold. Others stare, transfixed by the spectacle.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(I'm the puppet, and Lilly holds the strings. My dignity, my pride... it's all gone. This is my penance.)

Steve dances more vigorously now, as Lilly claps in time, forcing a grotesque performance.

LILLY

Louder, Steve! Like a good little boy!

His voice rises in volume, each note laced with humiliation.

STEVE

(Barely holding back tears)

Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full...

As he finishes, Lilly pushes him gently, and Steve collapses to his knees, sobs breaking free as he cradles his bruised ego between his legs.

LILLY

(hovering over him)

Now listen well, because this is your new life...

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(I've never felt so small, so exposed... She's not just punishing me; she's rewriting who I am.)

LILLY (CONT'D)

Whenever you need to use the bathroom, you'll announce it loudly, and then you'll sit there, door wide open, legs kicking, singing 'Baa baa black sheep' for all to hear. And if no one comes to wipe? Tough luck.

A cruel smirk plays on her lips as she watches Steve absorb her words, his face awash with despair.

STEVE

(pleading)

Please, Lilly, I—

LILLY

(cutting him off)

And baths? Forget privacy. Half-full, and you'll ask for someone to wash your winky. If no one's around, you'll stand there holding it, singing like the child you've proven to be until someone takes pity on you.

Steve's shoulders quake, his sobs the only sound amidst the tense silence of the room.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(This is a nightmare... But it's real, and it's never ending. She's marked me, and now I'm nothing but the house joke.)

Lilly steps back, satisfied with the destruction she's wrought, leaving Steve to contemplate the ruins of his self-respect.

FADE TO BLACK.

7 - 7

FADE IN:

INT. SHARED HOUSE - KITCHEN - EVENING

The kitchen is dimly lit, the evening sun casting elongated shadows from the solemn figures of housemates scattered around the room. Steve, his face a mask of humiliation and tears still glistening on his cheeks, stands before Lilly, who points to a small, unassuming step in the corner of the kitchen.

LILLY

(pointedly)

And finally, the naughty step awaits you. You will sit there until bedtime, reflecting on your actions.

Steve’s eyes flicker to the step, then back to Lilly, pleading silently for some mercy he knows won't come.

STEVE

(barely audible)

Lilly, I—

LILLY

(interrupting)

No 'buts,' Steve. Move.

ACTION:

Steve shuffles towards the step, each footfall echoing his shame. He lowers himself onto the cold surface, feeling its hardness against his bare skin.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(I'm nothing more than a spectacle, a lesson for others. This step feels like it's etching every second of my disgrace into my soul.)

LILLY

(crossing her arms)

This is where you'll stay, thinking about the privacy you invaded. Think hard, because this is what you've earned.

Steve nods, a lump forming in his throat as he stares at the wall, the texture suddenly too familiar, too close.

ACTION:

He draws his knees up, trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable to the lingering eyes that bore into him.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(How did it come to this? I'm no longer a man; I’m an example, an afterthought of laughter and disgust.)

LILLY

(satisfied)

Every time you're about to forget today, remember the corner. Remember how easy it is to lose respect... and how hard it is to earn it back.

Steve squeezes his eyes shut, willing the world away.

STEVE

(voice cracking)

I understand. I'm sorry. To everyone.

LILLY

(nodding)

Good. Now stay put. And think.

ACTION:

Lilly turns her back on Steve, leaving him to his solitude and the judgmental silence that fills the room. The other housemates disperse, their whispers trailing behind them like the tail of a comet.

INTERIOR THOUGHTS (STEVE)

(The lonely echo of my own remorse is deafening. Here, in this corner, I’m left to dissect every choice that brought me to this nadir. Will I ever rise again?)

Steve remains motionless, save for the occasional shiver that runs through his body, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. The light fades outside, and the kitchen grows darker, enveloping Steve in a cocoon of isolation and regret.

FADE TO BLACK.

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bigassheart · 4 years

Text

I’ve seen a couple posts about how everyone was wildly out of character and totally inconsistent this season and I’m just like... were you guys paying attention?

1. Luther

Arguably the biggest shift in character between the two seasons, but it makes sense. Luther spent a year fending for himself and thinking his entire family was dead.

This is the first time in his life that he had to hold down a job and actually live on his own. It was literally his first time living out in the world among anyone other than his family, and you can see in his reactions with the other characters from that life (the boss, his landlord, those kids that idolize him, and the waitress) that it has really mellowed him out. It has allowed him to be more normal, despite being very much not normal. You can see the way he’s so much more comfortable in his skin. Literally the only times he looks uncomfortable is when he’s fighting people, shirt off and body on full display. He’s still not comfortable with that, but he’s not trying to hide under huge overcoats anymore. He has people in his life who accept him for being a little weird, but really do treat him normal.

So is he a little less uptight and mission focused? Yeah. Because he can finally see another life, and it’s the life that he honestly did want in season 1 but felt like he couldn’t have because he was number 1 and he had a responsibility to his dad, his family, and the academy to be the leader. Having a year on his own frees him of all that.

But he also spent all that time thinking his family was dead and feeling so guilty about it. You can see in his very first interaction with Vanya, where he suddenly feels that responsibility again. He brings a gun, not knowing what’s going to happen and, despite what he told Five, he absolutely does still have that lingering feeling of responsibility. But then he sees Vanya and she’s not a threat and everything he has been holding in for the last year comes out. Because he does feel guilty as hell for what he did to Vanya, but also for the fact that his actions pushed her into causing the apocalypse. He spent a year with the knowledge that he did that and thinking that his family was dead because of his actions.

He’s willing to listen now because he spent a year living in a world where his actions killed his whole family. And now he finds out that that didn’t happen and he has a second chance. Of course he’s going to take it!

2. Diego

In the first season, Diego finally admitted that he wanted to be close to his family and that he cared about them and wouldn’t leave them again. He confronted the guilt about leaving, which he had previously denied. He realized the difference between revenge and honoring someone’s memory. But despite all that, he never confronted the reason why he, a grown-ass-man, wandered around the city as a leather clad, mask wearing vigilante.

So when we see Diego show up in 1963, that’s still who he is. He wants to be that hero and he finds an answer for how to be that hero in the first several minutes that he’s there. So he takes it. I mean, what else is he going to do? His family is gone. Maybe they’ll show up again. Maybe this is it. Either way, he’s on his own like he was before, so he’s got a duty to be the hero he has chosen to be.

And then he meets his dad again. Everyone keeps telling him he has daddy issues, and they’re right. He absolutely has daddy issues. He’s still trying to simultaneously prove that he’s good enough for his dad, but also doesn’t need Daddy’s approval. Except he does need it. He still desperately craves it and he feels gutted when his dad denies him that approval, even falling back into the stutter he had as a kid.

Now, despite the way we joke, Diego is not dumb. He is so observant and he makes some of the most poignant statements about his siblings and the way they see the world. He sees the people around them and he understands them, but he has never been able to completely turn that gift inwards and see those same things in himself. In this season, Lila breaks through all that and he finally sees himself in her at the end.

“Do you know how hard it is to trust people when your whole childhood was bullshit manipulation? Then why would you do that to me?”

Diego sees himself in Lila, in her failure to break away from her mother despite the fact that he knows she wants to. In the final episode, he sees that she is just like the rest of the siblings, but she doesn’t have to be. None of them have to be stuck with their daddy issues, because they have each other. They can support and care for each other. It’s the last step of the growth he started in season 1, moving beyond his tendency to define his life and his family through their father.

3. Allison

Throughout season 1, Allison struggled with whether or not to use her powers, but it was all centered around getting back to her daughter. When she appears in 1961, that motivation is effectively removed. She thinks everyone else is dead. She thinks that she is stranded in the past and that she will never get back. She finds a group of people to support her and before long... she finds her voice again.

It’s no coincidence that Allison’s first spoken words in the series come right after she gives Ray that pamphlet with a bunch of added notes. She finds her voice in the civil rights movement. She finds her power there. She finds a way to help change the world, to change reality, and she does it without her powers.

This is something she struggled with through the entirety of season 1, feeling inadequate for using her powers to get what she wanted, not knowing if anything was real or earned. Now she has the chance to earn everything without those powers and she is thriving.

And then she is forced to use her powers again. It all turns out fine, but now she’s showing off and experiencing all over again how good it feels to have power. She spent two years in a world where she was denied equal treatment, where she could be arrested and assaulted for any reason those with more power came up with. And now she feels that power... She doesn’t have to wait for people to give her respect. She can demand it. But the pain is still there, and it’s not enough to just be respected, because these people have hurt her. They almost killed her husband. They have used their power to cause pain to her and all those who look like her time and time again and now it’s time to understand what it’s like to be powerless, to be hurt and to be unable to stop it and...

And it’s scary. It’s scary to have that much power, to see how you could become the kind of person who uses your power to hurt others. And she knows that her power has hurt people she loves and suddenly she’s right back where she started.

Only not entirely.

She doesn’t shy away from her powers in the final fight. She is obviously still finding that balance and I would expect this struggle to continue for her in future seasons. Power can be addicting and Allison’s power is so strong. She knows the danger there, but she also knows that sometimes it’s needed despite the danger.

4. Klaus

Klaus is an addict. He finds obsessions to bury himself in to avoid dealing with reality. In season 1, he buried himself in drugs and booze. When he shows up in the 60′s, he finds a new drug to bury himself in: adoration.

Klaus is so impulsive and it’s not difficult to connect the dots of how one thing leads to another until suddenly everything is out of his control. Honestly, that’s the story of Klaus’s life, no matter where he goes. And then something changes. He gets tired of his cult and leaves. Except... that’s not really the reason.

After all this time, Dave is still the love of his life, and he knows he has an opportunity. He knows where Dave will be at this one time and he knows exactly what he has to change to keep Dave alive.

He also knows that Ben is going to have thoughts about this.

I know some people were disappointed that there wasn’t more Klaus and Ben bonding this season, but it makes sense that there is tension there. I think a lot of that tension comes from Ben’s circumstances, which I’ll discuss later, but Klaus is also not responding to that tension well.

They are fighting more than ever (not that they ever didn’t fight in season 1, where they spent much of their time being snarky to each other and Ben literally punching Klaus in the face for being an asshole), but the fighting is about something new this season. Ben wants his own life and Klaus is not in a position to give Ben what he really wants. We also learn that he has been carrying around this guilt for the last 17 years about forcing Ben to stick around as a ghost. He forced this half-life on his brother and now that it’s not enough for Ben, Klaus doesn’t want to deal with it. So he avoids and deflects and snarks and we see the toll on their relationship. We see it in the way he tries to deal with his plans around Dave entirely on his own. He focuses so much into that last ditch effort. He’s already in such a low place before this, so when that fails, we see him snap. We see him give up and crumble. And Ben falls back to his old role, trying to save Klaus from himself.

But the tension isn’t gone and Klaus’s guilt isn’t gone. We see it again when Klaus finally agrees to let Ben possess him. Klaus has always been afraid of his powers and being possessed is just as terrifying a thought as being surrounded by the dead. And yet he gives Ben that chance. It’s the last good thing he can do at that point.

I do wish we had gotten more closure for Klaus and Ben’s story. I think Vanya’s reveal could have been given a little more time, but that’s not really a problem with inconsistent characterization, so we’ll save that for another post.

5. Five

OK, who would argue that Five was out of character or inconsistent? He’s obsessed with stopping the apocalypse, is willing to cross a lot of lines to save his family, and constantly frustrated by his family’s failure to go along with his plans. This is textbook Five.

What I loved about this season was that we got to see Five finally meeting his father again. They interact as two adults, not as a child trying to find away to become his own person, frustrated by a lack of trust from his father. It allows Reggie to see Five in a different light and to actually provide advice in a constructive way, something he has almost never been able to do when viewing them as his children. But despite outward appearances and despite the fact that Five is a grown man, he still sees his father the same way he always has. He doesn’t register Reggie’s advice as advice. He hears that he’s striving beyond his abilities and that maybe he can only travel in seconds. He hears his father telling him he can’t handle time travel. That’s why he doesn’t try to actually take the very good advice until the very end.

An old dog can still occasionally learn a new trick and Five proves that true.

6. Ben

As I mentioned earlier, Ben is chaffing at his ghosthood. Maybe it’s because Klaus has been sober enough to keep Ben around solidly for 3 years. Maybe it’s because Ben is no longer spending all his time trying to keep Klaus alive and sober. Or maybe it’s the fact that he has finally found someone that he actually wants to spend time with. Whatever the reason, Ben wants to be alive this season.

Again, as I mentioned, that’s causing some tension. Ben doesn’t want to be tied to Klaus, but Klaus is ignoring that because he feels so guilty about it. Ben doesn’t want to admit that he was too scared to go into the light on his own, so they’re at a bit of a standstill.

And then Ben gets the opportunity to be alive again, if only for a while. And in a lot of ways, it’s wonderful! But it’s not the same as being truly alive.

So when the time comes, when he’s faced with that light again... he’s not afraid. He knows that it’s time to move on. He knows this isn’t where he should be, but he also got the chance to be there for his family. He misses them, but he got to talk to Diego and Vanya. He got to save Vanya. He got to save Allison and Diego and Klaus and Luther and Five and the whole world! So while he would have stayed, he’s not sad about leaving anymore, and he’s not afraid.

7. Vanya

OK, she was a little out of character because... you know. She had amnesia.

But aside from erasing her past, the amnesia allowed us to see Vanya without the anger and resentment that plagued her for all of season one. Vanya was always someone who was kind and loving, someone who cares enough to leave peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches out for a missing brother for years. Someone who knows the pain of not being seen and who will always take the time to truly see other people. She’s someone who wants to love and to be loved and to protect those she loves.

That was all here, with or without the memories. And as soon as the memories came back, so did the guilt and fear about what she had done, what she had become, terrified of what was inside her in a way that she was not when her powers first surfaced. But Ben is used to being afraid of what’s inside of him. He knows she’s not a monster and is the perfect person to explain that to her. And this time around, she has experienced the love and care and attention of her siblings (and Sissy) to back up those words. That’s how she finally accepts them as truth, how she finally accepts her power as a part of her.

Overall, there are things that I wish this season spent more time with, but there was nothing that I felt was out of character or wildly inconsistent. The characters still struggled with all the baggage from their shitty childhood, their fear of their powers, and the guilt in their past. Some struggled in new ways this season and some continued old struggles that had never fully been resolved. The season felt very different than the first, but it still felt like the Umbrella Academy. It was a good mix of new and old and a good mix of feel-good moments we have all been waiting for and frustrating and sad moments that just come with having a complicated family. I loved this season. And now, I’m going to go re-watch every episode.

#tua s2 spoilers #tua season 2 #tua analysis #The Umbrella Academy #tua #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #alison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves

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siempre-bucky · 3 years

Text

I.I.G.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W?

COWBOY!BUCKY X READER

♡if I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world?

Summary: Nat and Wanda take the reader post break up to The Stark Ranch, a beautiful little place in the lush green countryside. God she hated it, she didn't want to be here only wanted him back. With one dip of a black cowboy hat and a deep-voiced greeting, the readers brooding would have to wait.

Part 1 of 3

Warnings: light mentions of past abuse,

WC: 3.8k

A/N: there was a tiktok and it was just cowboy Sebastian Stan and this fucking song!! Here's a thing I can't stop thinking about! I edited this the best I could.

In the long, rich history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. Here she was, squished in between her best friends in the back of an Uber. An old country song from the 60s played on the radio as the two redheads gushed about the small town they were driving through. The most popular restaurant back in Brooklyn probably had more people inside it than this little country town.

"Are you done brooding?" Wanda complains, her Sokovian accent purely intensified the distaste in her tone.

"All I want is John, back," Y/N mutters bitterly, her jaw clenched, sinking lower into the seat. Both women roll their eyes at her comment.

"You haven't stopped mentioning Walker since we got off the plane. It's been 2 months Y/N," Natasha reminds her, checking her watch that was peaking from her black leather jacket. "Don't forget this is why we're here! A getaway is just what you need."

Has it already been 2 months? It only felt like 2 weeks since he left. His last words still sent a chill down her spine "Did you really expect me not to cheat, Y/N? It's New York, get used to it, babe." Y/N shakes her head, trying to get that man's callous words out of her head. She felt like she was already at the acceptance of the grieving process. She clearly wasn't there.

Natasha suddenly gasps, the Stark Ranch coming into view with its black iron gates, its name the biggest thing on it. Y/N looks in Nat's direction, the 4 story red and yellow inn sat in the middle of a long dirt road and was nuzzled in with the saturated green grass and big trees. Y/N thought it was pretty but she would never admit that to her friends.

"Ladies you have a good time out here! I reckon you'll find our little town quite charmin'!" The older man tells them happily as his car comes to a stop in front of the inn. The girls give him their thanks and get out to take a look at the place.

Nat's hand shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up the place, a confident smile on her face since she picked out this place in the middle of nowhere. Wanda stood in the middle with her hands in her pockets and a relaxed smile. As for Y/N? she might as well have a dark cloud hanging over her. It smelled like grass and horses, her black ankle boots were covered in dust, and worst of all...Natasha blocked John's number. "Relaxation awaits girls!" Nat cheers as she leads her small pack into the front doors of the inn.

The inside was just a cute as the outside, country-style couches placed in the center with a mahogany coffee table littered in doilies. Guests laughed and chatted behind the french doors in the restaurant beside them. "Welcome to Stark Inn!" The front desk lady greets them, her strawberry blonde hair tied in a bun and a glossy smile on her features.

"You go check-in, I'm staying here," Y/N sighs, plopping down onto one of the floral couches, taking out her phone from her back pocket. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, pushing their luggage next to their friend before walking over to check-in.

She checked her phone 5 times, 5 different bell-sounding notifications from 5 different apps. Nothing from her former love, of course, not because he's blocked. The next bell sound didn't come from her phone but the front doors of the inn. The ding was followed by two men laughing loudly, one clapping the other on the back. The Y/H/C girl looks up at the source of the ruckus.

One was blonde, wearing a thin blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. He was cute, had a nice ass, and blue eyes a lady could swim in. The other man was a different story, however. A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in a low bun, face nearly hidden by his black velvet cowboy hat. Fuck that man looked good in red flannel.

The said man looked down at her. Oh shit, she'd been caught staring at the two cowboys. Before she could look away the one in red smirked at her and dipped his hat "ma'am," he speaks in greeting, his voice was low and raspy, sending butterflies to her stomach and other regions.

"H-hi," Y/n says shyly, like a schoolgirl whose crush finally talked to her. The man turned away and walked away to walk towards the front desk, mud left behind from their boots which they were quickly scolded for.

"Well while you boys are makin' a mess 'round my inn you can take help these girls up to their room," Pepper, the co-owner huffs "307... the nice one." Pepper waves them off, turning to grab the keys to the room.

Natasha eyed the blonde man up and down, resting her back on the front desk, propping her elbows up behind her. "Hi there cowboy," she speaks to him flirtatiously, her pink lips form a smirk. The man ducks his head and laughs.

"Hi there. I'm Steve."

"Natasha."

Y/N rolled her eyes at the flirting, rising from the couch she went to grab the handle of her bag but was met with cold metal. Her eyes flew up to see the man in the back cowboy hat already grabbed a hold of it "I'm assumin' this is yours?" he chuckled with that honey-like voice. Y/N nods and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand still feeling the chill of his hand.

She followed behind them, taking the red-carpeted stairs. She was behind them enough to stare at the broadness of his shoulders, a small smile appeared on her lips thinking about what it would be like to run her hands down his back. No, she quickly erased the image out of her mind. That thought returned as they climbed the second set of stairs, her Y/E/C traveled down his back and landed on his backside as he climbed. A red rag hung out of his back pocket.

The man turned around as they reached the top, catching her stare at him "I'm Bucky," he tells her, breaking her out of her trance. Bucky was 2 for 2 catching her stare at him. The red in her cheeks matched the vibrant red of the rag her eyes were once fixated on.

"Y/N," she responds simply, her voice quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." His words made her skin tingle, small bumps rising to the surface of her clothed skin. Her green jacket covering all the evidence.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bucky," she ponders over his name for a minute "did your parents name you that?"

Bucky laughed, oh God his laugh was precious "No, uh- my name is actually James. Bucky is just a nickname, I like it better," he explains. Y/N moved from the back to his side as they walked up the final set of stairs.

"Both names are nice," Y/n chuckles, "they suit you." They both looked at each other and instantly smiled, she even unfolded her arms and let them linger at her side. She forgot what it was like to be comfortable after all this time. Walking on eggshells for a man who could set off at any moment was what she grew accustomed to. This was nice, even she had to admit that.

The two girls in front couldn't help but give each other a knowing look, Steve even joined in. "He hasn't dated in years," he whispers to Natasha as they approached the room.

"A shell of a man cheated and dumped her," Wanda tells them in a hushed voice.

They reached the white door with a golden plate '307' written in script numbers. "This is the best room at the inn!" Steve starts to gush, placing the bags on the ground.

"Clear view of the stables, horses walking around all the time," Bucky chimes in, his elbow nudging Y/N the arm. he looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he wasn't looking at her this time. Did he do that on purpose? No. Probably not.

"Well... we'll let you ladies get settled in. Don't hesitate to reach out of you need anything." Steve dipped his hat and started to walk away, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning him to walk in the same direction.

"See you around, Y/N," Bucky told her before walking away. Her eyes lingered on the tall man as he walked away and even he turned around to catch another glance at her. 3 for 3.

"Did someone catch feelings already?" Natasha laughed as he unlocked the room. Y/N eyebrows furrowed in anger, walking in after her friends, roughly brushing past the sassy redhead.

"All I want is John back. I don't know what the hell that was out there," she defended herself, snarling as she sat in the chair by the large windows, her legs hanging off the ledge.

The women hung their heads and began to unpack "You can have the other bedroom," was all Wanda said before the conversation ended. Y/N felt the guilt rise in her heart. She didn't mean to be so blunt and rude to them, in the back of her mind she knew they knew they were trying. She was trying too.

Time had passed and clothes were hung and folded away in their drawers. Nat sat on her laptop looking for places to eat in town while Wanda checked in with her husband and kids back home. Y/N hadn't left the chair since they arrived. Checking her phone for someone who couldn't talk to her.

"Look at this cute little place in town! It's home cooking they call it. We should go," Nat tells the girl happily.

"I'll call the Uber after I talk to Tommy," Wanda joins in.

"I-I don't want to go," Y/N says, her voice softer than before. She turns his attention to the sables below her, a black horse being led by the man in the black hat. "Bucky," she whispers to herself. She watches him, his lips were moving, obviously talking to the beautiful animal. A smile dared to appear on her face while she watched him, she saw her reflection and she sucked in her lips. Her attention went back to her friends.

"We're not going to let you coop yourself up in this room all night, Y/N." Natasha squints her eyes in judgment, closing her computer with a loud thud.

"And I don't want to make this trip miserable for you guys. I just need to be by myself for a while."

"That's what we're afraid of. It took 2 weeks to get you out of your apartment."

"I'm doing better now!" she shouts, realizing what she did she gulped and sat straight up in the chair, placing her feet on the floor "I'm sorry, Nat. Please just go, have fun and I promise we'll do that spa ay like you wanted tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me your phone," Wanda interjected, holding out her hand while her other one placed her phone in her back pocket. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head. Wanda's eyebrows lowered, her hand still stretched out as she walked towards her. She cocked her head, striking fear into the Y/H/C. She hated when Wanda did that.

"How are you going to reach me if something bad happens?"

With the phone now in Wanda's hand, Nat said "We'll call the front desk."

The girls had left, telling Y/N to make her time alone useful. She wanted to sit and wallow in her never-ending sadness. She remembered a time like this at a New York lawyers convention when John left her in the room for hours while he partied downstairs. No, no, she didn't want it to be like this even if it was her choice now.

The stables. She walked over to the window and saw the red building empty from what it looked like. Maybe she could get a glimpse of the horse she saw. Bucky didn't even cross her mind then or was that the reason she wanted to go so badly. No, it had to have been the horse she saw. Keep telling yourself that.

Y/N stayed back a bit longer, giving Nat and Wanda enough time to leave the property. They would never let this go after the stable comment Bucky made. She stepped outside, the sun starting to set and a small chilled breeze brushes past her. Lurking around to make sure no one was there she slowly walked into the stable, the horses not paying her any attention.

There she was, the beautiful black mare standing her her stall, her face poking out of the window. Y/N walked over and let the horse sniff the palm of her hand "You're so pretty, my darling," Y/N beams, rubbing her nose. The horse nickered, making the woman laugh "You like compliments don't you."

"She craves attention!" A voice called out from the other side of the barn. Y/N whipped her head to the side, her heart thumping against her chest. Bucky started making his way over, two silver buckets in his strong arms. The sweat on his face didn't go unnoticed by her, she swallowed hard and took a step back from the horse.

"I-I didn't see a stay-out sign, I'm sorry if I'm not all-" her rambling was cut off by his soft chuckle and the clang of the buckets now on the ground.

" I don't mind, doll. Clementine loves the company." I was hoping you'd show up, he kept that to himself of course. "While you're here, do you want to help me brush her? She gets sad if I don't do it before I leave."

Y/N smiles softly and nods at him, her hands folded in her lap. Bucky eagerly opened the stall and allowed her to enter first. He ran around to empty the feed buckets and placing the buckets on the shelf. He pants as he hands her a brush, his awkward smile earning a thank you.

Bucky stood on one side while she stood on the other, brushing the shiny coat of Celmentines's body. The silence was a comfort and the soft brushing noises were music to their ears. She enjoyed the silence and stolen glances at each other. His steel-blue eyes fixated on his favorite horse, she'd never seen someone look that loving towards someone else.

He breaks the silence "So what brings you guys all the way out to our neck of the woods?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Because 'I'm desperately trying to get over a man who ripped my heart out' doesn't scream approachable. She bit her lip and looked at him from the other side of the horse, their searching eyes meeting.

"Fella did me wrong so my friends decided a getaway was the best medicine," she explained, a watered-down version of what the real devastating truth was.

Bucky nods as he listens to her, slowly making his way to her side, brushing Clementine's hip as a cover. He didn't push it any further, now wasn't the time and he remembered her somber appearance when he first met her in the lobby "Where ya from?" He asks instead

"Brooklyn." His ears perk up, he hadn't thought about that city in so long.

"Brooklyn?" he hums, "how's the city these days?"

"Busy," she responds, looking over at him trying not to act surprised that he moved closer. "You've been?"

"Once or twice." 7 years. He frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N hums and starts to brush the side of her neck. Clementine whinnies, making the woman jump back. "I-It's ok," Bucky tells her kindly, holding out his hand, "she likes that, let me show you." He takes off his hat and tosses it on top of the hay pile behind them.

His flesh arm placed at on her midback, bringing her closer to the horse. His metal arm covers her hand to guide the brush down Clementine's neck. The sound of her own heart was deafening, he was so close she could pick up everything. The smell of hay and horses mixed in wish musk and was the cedar? It was manly...just like him. The stands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, small grey hairs mixed into his stubble.

Her eyes shifted away from his face onto the sight in front of her, his hand over hers, the gold and black metal shining in the overhead light. She wondered if he could feel her. "Your arm?" she questions barely audibly.

"It was a military accident...I fell," he responded, she couldn't tell if there was sorrow in his voice or he was just accustomed to explaining it all the time.

"It's nice! I hope I didn't offend you," she tried to pull away from the situation she created but his flesh arm held her still. He looks down at her and smiles.

"You didn't. It was a long time ago."

His reassurance got her to relax. They eased into small talk about their lives, she learned that he was born here and always helped the Starks on the ranch when they opened it, leading into a job when he got out of school. He was kind and funny, made her heart constantly skip beats when he said something nice. It made her forget John Walker for a while.

The sun went down, the auto light of the stables turned on. Bucky knew he should've clocked out by now, but this was far better. She was sad, he knew that, but when she relaxed she was surprisingly funny with her quick wit, soft smiles, and her newfound love for his favorite girl Clementine.

"Have you ridden before?" he asks as they finish, taking her brush back.

"No," Y/N laughs as she recalls her childhood, "I saw a boy fall off one at summer camp and I swore I'd never do it. I admire from afar."

Bucky joins in on the laugh while he grabs his hat and dusts off the loose straws of hay on his hat. Y/N bits her lip and pats Clemintine one last time before the pair walked towards the door "Watch your step," he warns, holding his metal hand out for her to take. She looks at him for a moment, feeling like her feet were cement. Her eyes flash from his hand to the softness in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Y/N let's go!" John's hand outreached for her, it was shaking, matching his anger. "I'll fucking leave you here. You know, fuck it. Walk home." That hand turned into a fist... she didn't like that fist.

Hesitantly she takes it, her nervous fingers wrapping around his palm as he guided her over the edge of the stall and onto the main ground of the stable. "Thanks for letting me brush her, it was nice," she smiled, still holding his hand. She wasn't the only one who didn't let go.

"Any time, doll. How long are ya here for?"

"5 days," she responds. Not enough time, he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well you can come down any time you'd like, Clem would like the company." I would too.

Y/N finally realized she was holding his hand, her eyes went wide and pulled away suddenly, her nervous chuckle ringing in his ears "I-I should go... thank you again Bucky."

She scurries off towards the inn, their hands still tingling. He'd never been this happy to still have nerves in his arm "God bless Wakanda tech," he praised under his breath, clenching and unclenching the hand.

"Y/N! Wait a minute," he shouts stopping her mid way. She turns and see's him standing there in the overhead light of the stable, like he was waiting for her to get there safely.

"Yeah?" she questions, matching the volume of his voice.

"While you're here you should try Happy's Diner! Best coffee in town!"

"I thought this place did?"

"Don't let Pepper convince you!"

Y/N giggles and nods "I will. Goodnight Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He watches her leave, making sure she was safely inside, she turned to catch one last glance at him making the brunette smile at her and waving her off.

It would be another hour before Natasha and Wanda returned to the room, finding their friend in the same position in the chair by the window. This time her shoes were dustier than before, black hairs visible on her cream-colored shirt. She stared at the cowboy painting on the wall in front of her like her life depended on it "What did you do all day, Y/N?" Wanda asks, tossing Y/N's phone on the bed.

She expected her to run and grab it, feverishly checking the messages John couldn't send. That reaction never came, she didn't flinch when the phone landed on the bed with a soft thud. Her mind was still a blur, Bucky was kind, he held his hand out for her and got her to the other side of the stall...he waited for her.

"This," Y/N remarks, coming out of her thoughts pointing to the chair she was occupying. The spy in the leather jacket didn't buy it, looking at the differences in her clothing and demeanor.

"Sounds like a bore," Nat sighs, deciding to let it go for a moment.

"How was the restaurant?" Y/N yawns, getting up and walking past them. The two redheads sniffed the air as she passed, it smelled like Y/N had been sleeping in a barn. Well, that was almost true.

"What the hell is that smell?" Wanda grimaced, her nose scrunching at the foul smell. Y/N stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, she wasn't about to tell them about her time in the stable with Bucky. She brought her shirt up to her nose, fuck, it was her.

"Must be the atmosphere," she laughed it off, "I'm going to bed!" She rushes off before the accusations came and she knew they would come.

The door to the adjoining room slams shut and the girls give each other a knowing look "Twenty bucks says she smuggled Walker in here," Wanda bets.

"Nah, it was the guy with Steve. She blushed way too much to have done nothing about it."

"Fair."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!bucky x reader #sebastian stan imagine #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky au

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redwinterroses · 3 years

Note

for requests how about: impulse, encountering some or all of the day one crew and getting Very Uneasy because oh shit, the 3rdlife memories are coming back hard

Hey! Sorry this took me SO long to finish. It was a hard one to write because between you asking this (I think?) and now, Impulse had that whole encounter with Bdubs on the path and I was like "Well I don't want to just write that" and then Cleo showed up? And I haven't ever written her before (except for a few lines in another hero, another mindless crime) so I had to go watch a ton of vids and streams and--

okay. Excuses over. Please enjoy this little "Impulse has a bad time but Friends Are Good" drabble. <3

~~~

Sweet Dreams

The Crastle was bigger than he remembered. Had this hallway always been here? This doorway? This arch that led to another hall…which branched and spiraled and led up stairs and down Escherian ramps in a labyrinth of stone walls and a floor dotted with pressure plates?

Impulse found himself running, breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he dashed down the halls, throwing open doors and darting around corners, leaping over the pressure plates—someone was chasing him.

They were coming for him, glowing red eyes and white teeth—fangs—glinting in the shadows. And over all, the ever-louder beat:

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

It pounded in his ears, deafening, and he stumbled to cower against a wall, hunching with his arms over his head, trying in vain to drown it out. But no—no, it was even louder now, thumping so close it rattled his teeth, and he looked down to see blood spreading across his shirt and at the center where his heart should be: a golden clock embedded in his chest.

“They gave me a clock, Impulse.”

His head snapped up. Bdubs, eyes blank and red like two burning embers, stared down at him, no expression on his grey face.

“Ride or die?” Cleo’s voice came from behind him, and Impulse spun to see her glaring down the length of a crossbow, her eyes as scarlet and expressionless as Bdubs’. “How about… die.”

She fired the crossbow, the bolt exploding into flames that swarmed toward Impulse’s face—

He shot upright in bed, gasping for air. He swallowed hard, rubbing his chest as he gradually caught his breath. His heart pounded so loudly that for one horrible moment he thought it might really have been replaced with a bloody golden clock.

But no. Around him, the night was cool and dark, the silence of the Boatem village broken only by the faint rattling of a distant skeleton and the lowing of cows.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare.

Just another nightmare.

Impulse slumped back against his pillows, flopping one arm over his eyes and letting out a long, shuddering sigh in the darkness. It had been months since they’d moved on from the 3rd Life server, months of good times and laughter and the excitement of new projects and builds… and yet at night, when the voices of his friends faded away and Impulse was left alone with himself—he found himself back. Time and again, his sleeping mind returned to the Crastle, or to Dogwarts, or to the sandy dunes of the Red Desert. And inevitably, he found himself face to face with nightmare versions of his day-one crew: Bdubs and ZombieCleo, red-eyed and vengeful.

“I never betrayed them,” he muttered to the darkness. “Never.”

So why did he feel guilty?

Well. If he was honest with himself… it wasn’t really guilt. Or it was, but not because of anything he’d done in 3rdLife—no, the guilt he felt was because the primary emotion associated with Bdubs and Cleo in his dreams was fear.

These were his friends! Being afraid of them went against every instinct he had, every good memory and inside joke and shared experience. And that was a different world anyway—different rules, different lives. It didn’t change anything here on Hermitcraft.

And yet…

And yet when he saw that clock on Bdubs’ belt the other day, or when he’d come up out of the mines that first morning in Boatem and Cleo had been standing right there, Impulse hadn’t been able to suppress the rising wave of panic that swept over him. Panic over being caught in his web of lies, panic that he might hurt the only people he trusted, panic that they didn’t trust him—

Enough was enough. He needed to get past this; he couldn’t spend the rest of the season (the rest of his life?) having anxiety attacks whenever he encountered any of the other Crastle crew members. Talking with Bdubs on the trail had helped, but�� he hadn’t seen Cleo since the first days of the server.

That needed to change.

Impulse threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, padding down the stairs to the main level of his house. Grabbing his communicator from where he’d left it atop the crafting bench, he tapped out two quick messages:

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: hey, can we meet up and chat? Spawn egg, around noon?

He set down the communicator and turned to go to bed, but to his surprise, it buzzed with an immediate reply.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: everything alright?

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: yeah sure, I just |

Impulse stared at the blinking cursor for a moment, then backspaced and started again:

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: not really. but it’s nothing major. just want to chat a few things over with you.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: Impulse it’s 3 in the morning. you wouldn’t be messaging if it wasn’t major. want to talk now?

He blinked. That… wasn’t the response he’d expected. He hesitated, finger hovering over the touch screen.

<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: sure.

<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: i'll come to you.

///

Impulse was waiting on the roof when Cleo arrived, swooping in with the dry rustle of elytra wings to land on the cobble-and-slabs rooftop.

He looked up at her with an automatic smile, but she didn’t even wait for a “hey” before plopping down beside him.

“Alright, Impulse,” she said, her brisk tone ordering, rather than inviting him to speak. “What’s going on?”

Pulling his knees into his chest, Impulse wrapped his arms around his legs, the cobblestone beneath him still radiating a bit of warmth from the day’s sun.

“I…” he let his voice trail off, not sure where to begin.

“Out with it.” Cleo held out her hand, palm up, as if waiting for him to drop something into it. “Spit it out. It’s not gonna get any better for stewing on it.”

This was a dumb idea. Impulse closed his eyes and, before he could talk himself out of it, let the words spill out in a rush:

“I keep having dreams. Nightmares. About being back… back there. At the Crastle, mainly. And, ah—” he chuckled nervously and opened his eyes, looking sideways at Cleo. “You and Bdubs are there. And you’re… mad. Yeah, you’re really mad. And you don’t trust me. And—" he took a deep breath. “I keep dreaming that you’re so mad you kill me.”

Cleo tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “But we didn’t. Well,” she corrected herself. “I didn’t.”

“I know, I know—it’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense, and I know that, but…” he swallowed, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I need to get it off my chest. Because even thought I know it’s not real, and I know this is an entirely different world, and I know that nothing from that server really changes anything, I can’t just… turn off what my brain does when I’m not paying attention to it. You guys are my friends and I’m getting real tired of feeling like I need to start running every time I see one of you. To be honest, sitting here right now even is making me antsy.”

Overhead, the stars continued on their paths in silence, and somewhere in the village a couple of sheep baa-ed at each other plaintively.

“Well. That’s… something. That’s certainly something, isn’t it.” Cleo was quiet for a moment, examining him. Impulse looked away, suddenly finding his fingernails deeply interesting.

“Impulse.”

She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, and he instinctively flinched away. Cleo raised both eyebrows at him this time, pulling her hand back—then deliberately replacing it, her fingers cool and firm through the thin fabric of his sleeve. “Impulse,” she repeated, her tone gentle but brooking no argument. “You… you know I’m not good at this stuff. But at the risk of getting in way over my pay-grade: we’re good. We’re your friends.” She gave him a shake. “We love you, you idiot. No amount of murdery games on another server gonna change that.”

Impulse gave a little laugh, pretending neither of them could hear the emotion that made his voice catch in his throat. “Wow, Cleo,” he said. “Love. Big word.”

“Bah.” She shoved him away, throwing her hands in the air. “I love everybody, you’re not special.” But there was a grin in her voice. “And anyway—why me? You’ve got a lotta nerve, Impulse, having nightmares about me killin’ you.”

“Hey, you were scary with that crossbow.”

“I was, wasn’t I.” Cleo sounded satisfied about that.

The knot in Impulse’s chest was slowly loosening, and he glanced over to see Cleo leaning back on her hands, staring up at the sky. The faintest tinge of pinkish-grey was starting to appear on the eastern horizon. The Boatem crew would be up and about soon—Grian in particular had a tendency to be up at an ungodly hour of the morning.

“Hey—” Impulse said, lowering his voice again. “Um. Thanks. For swinging by. Sorry for being weird about all this.”

“Impulse if you start apologizing for being weird you’re never going to stop.” She made a face at him. “Because you’re very weird.”

“Thaaaanks.”

Cleo gave him an easy punch on the shoulder. “You know you adore me,” she said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I can promise you this: I will kill you again at some point, I’m sure. And it’ll have nothing at all, whatsoever, to do with Third Life: it’ll be because you deserve it.” She paused. “Or because I just want to.”

Somehow, out of all the things she could have said, a casual threat of violence was the thing that did the trick. Impulse laughed—out loud, for real, a genuine laugh that shook loose the tension in his shoulders and chased away the phantom of Cleo standing over him with a crossbow.

“Thanks, Cleo.”

Cleo stood, and patted him on the head, ruffling up his hair. “There’s the obnoxiously-cheerful Impulse I know and loath,” she teased. “Can’t have you being all maudlin over here—I’m the gloomy one on this server.”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Impulse asked, smoothing down his hair and also standing.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. You know me—I don’t do the sleeping thing much. Too much work to do: graves to dig, bodies to—” she grinned darkly “—find. ‘S a lot for an entrepreneuring zombie like myself.”

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to it.” Impulse tried to stifle a yawn. He wasn’t entirely successful.

“Go to bed, Impulse,” Cleo laughed, activating her elytra. “And try to only have normal nightmares about me for a while. Ya know—ones where I’m properly zombie-terrifying, not this Crastle nonsense.”

“I’ll do my best.” He watched her fly off, and yawned again, this time wide enough to pop his jaw.

Alright. Let’s try this one more time. Sleep.

He left the roof and reentered his house, which suddenly felt much more cozy and far less empty and cold than it had when he’d first awakened. Sliding back under his blankets, he tugged them up around his ears and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Something exploded outside, and his eyes popped back open.

Maniacal laughter echoed over the hills of Boatem, and Impulse deliberately rolled over, burying his head under the pillow.

Tomorrow’s insanity would come soon enough. For now: sleep.

((sweet dreams, Impulse.))

#here have some impulse hc #as a treat. and because impy deserves it #redwinterwrites #sweet dreams #impulsesv #hermitcraft

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blackspoon99 · 3 years

Text

The Sign of Three Pt. 2

Sherlock x Female! Reader

TW: Mention of Blood and Near Death, Spoilers to Season 3!

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

You took your seat at the head table and found yourself relieved that you were sat in between Janine and Sherlock. You felt immediate guilt at that thought. Dinner was slightly tense and awkward. Possibly only for you. For the most part, you made small talk with Janine while Sherlock read over his stack of index cards. Little boughs of anxiety kept creeping in the back of your mind as you replayed Sherlock and Janine’s conversation over and over. You peeked over at Sherlock to your right and took a healthy sip of champagne. You decided you would try your best to be present. This day wasn’t about you, after all. Your attention was pulled to the center of the room when a waiter tapped a spoon against a champagne glass.

“Pray silence for the best man”

This was it. You can do it, Sherlock. You watched Sherlock rise from his seat and stiffly fasten one of the buttons on his blazer. He looked unbelievably uncomfortable. You smiled when you noticed Sherlock adjusting the flower you placed in his blazer pocket. The wedding guests applauded and waited for Sherlock to begin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends ... and ... erm ... others.” Sherlock blinked several times.

“Er ... w...” Another awkward pause. “…Also”

You looked over at John then at Molly and Greg. They wore the same concerned look on their faces.

“Telegrams” John whispered to Sherlock

“Right, uhm…” Sherlock patted the pockets of his blazer and pants then finally noticed them on the table near his place setting. “First things first. Telegrams.” He lifted up the pile and inspected the first one. “Well, they’re not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don’t know why. Wedding tradition,” Sherlock muttered quickly. “Because we don’t have enough of that already, apparently.”

You saw John narrow his eyes and turn to Mary. You nervously looked down at your hands in your lap. Sherlock read the first note.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Watson. So sorry I’m unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford.”

“Oh, Mike,” John said, smiling.

“To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big ...” Sherlock paused and suddenly looked like he had swallowed a lemon. “... big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted.” He looked up at the ceiling, blinking repeatedly again. You tried to suppress your laughter. “Mary – lots of love, ...” Yet another pause. “…Poppet” He finished, popping the “t” at the end. Mary snickered.

Sherlock straightened his back and took the next card. “Don’t bugger it up, Sher—” he abruptly cleared his throat and looked straight at you. You tried to hide your laughter. He’d finally gotten to the note you slipped in with the telegrams. Everyone would have heard it was actually quite a nice note if Sherlock had read the entire thing out loud. It read: Don’t bugger it up, Sherlock. Only kidding. You’re doing great. X, y/n.

“Um, special day” Sherlock threw a telegram over his shoulder. “Very special day” He then proceeded to toss each telegram straight behind him. “Love, love, love, love. Bit of a theme – you get the general gist. People are basically fond.” The wedding guests laughed, interpreting it as a joke. Sherlock looked confused, then picked up the other stack of index cards. He began to shuffle through them, clearly trying to find his place.

“Done that. ... Done that ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Done that bit ... Hmm ...”

You anxiously looked up at him, feeling the awkward tension in the room.

“I’m afraid, John, I can’t congratulate you.”

Your eyes snapped over to John who looked as shocked as you felt.

“All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world.”

You looked around the room at all the wedding guests as some of them began to murmur. Greg and Molly had the same horrified look on their faces. Sherlock continued on.

“Today we honor the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time – one feels certain – our entire species.”

You placed your head in your hands. You knew you should have made Sherlock let you read over his speech. You hadn’t wanted to make him feel nervous or like you didn’t trust him.

“But anyway ... let’s talk about John.”

“Yeah, good idea” you hissed up at Sherlock. He ignored you.

“If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice – it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me.”

You heard Greg snort across the room. This was going south fast. You couldn’t believe Sherlock was insulting John on his wedding day. He must be spiraling. There had to be something you could do to save this. Fake an emergency, maybe? You could at least buy some time that way.

“Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides. It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favor exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel.”

Ouch. You tried so hard not to look at Sherlock as you felt your ears burning with embarrassment. You adverted your gaze and focused on not allowing yourself to be hurt by what he’d just said.

Somehow, Sherlock continued. “And contrast is, after all, God’s own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation ... or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot.”

Oh boy. Now Sherlock was going straight to insulting the vicar. The murmuring began to pick up again. You looked over at John, who was now hiding his face in his hands while Mary frowned.

“The point I’m trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-around obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet.”

You looked up at Sherlock in genuine surprise.

“I am dismissive of the virtuous ...” He looked to the vicar. “... unaware of the beautiful ...” Your heart stopped when he looked straight at you. Or maybe in your general direction? You looked over your shoulder at Janine, who was smiling. He could have just as easily been looking at her.

Sherlock finally turned to John and Mary “... and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend. Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing.”

Just when you’d started to doubt him, Sherlock had surpassed all your expectations. He always managed to surprise you, every time.

“John, I am a ridiculous man ... redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I’m apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion. Actually, now I can.” Sherlock turned to Mary. “Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, and injury, and tragic loss... so sorry again about that last one.” John laughed. Sherlock leaned back over to you and winked. You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“So know this: today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved. And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that.”

You found yourself fighting tears. You were not alone. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John?” Sherlock again looked rather confused. He turned to look at you. “Did I do it wrong?”

“Oh, Sherlock,” you said quietly.

John stood up and pulled Sherlock into a hug. The crowd applauded. “I haven’t finished yet,” Sherlock said as John released him.

“Yes, I know,” said John

“So, on to some funny stories ...” Sherlock attempted to yell over the applause.

“Can you – can you wait ’til I sit down?” John asked.

“So, on to some funny stories about John,” Sherlock continued as the noise died down. “So, for funny stories, one has to look no further than John’s blog.” Sherlock pulled out his phone. “The record of our time together. We’ve tackled some strange cases, some frustrating cases, and ‘touching’ cases. But we want something ... very particular for this special day, don’t we? The Bloody Guardsman.”

You remembered this case. It was only a few weeks ago,

You, John, Mary, and Sherlock sat in the living room of Sherlock’s flat, completely surrounded by lists, items, and menus for the wedding. You’d initially been surprised at Sherlock’s dedication to wedding planning. The back wall above the couch was a perfectly organized record of everything that needed to be done in the next few weeks down to all the potential fonts for the place cards. Sherlock had even created a to-scale model of the reception venue sometime during his fits of mania. You were no psychologist, but if you were you’d say that Sherlock’s meticulous efforts were all in an attempt to force some control into a daunting situation.

John and Mary were seated at the table near the windows looking over the bridesmaids’ dress options. Sherlock stood studying the guest list on the monstrous wall of wedding planning. You were sitting in John’s chair with your legs hanging over one of the arms, flipping through catering menus.

“Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin.” Sherlock spoke from across the room.

Mary forced a smile. “Ah, orphan’s lot. Friends – that’s all I have. Lots of friends.”

You didn’t know anything about Mary’s family except that for unknown reasons, she didn’t have one. She kept her cards so close to the vest, you doubted John knew anything either. “And your friends adore you, Mary,” you said, attempting to cheer her up.

“Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11:48,” Sherlock spoke over you. “Sherlock,” you groaned. He didn’t turn around from the wall and continued to fiddle with the clippings.

“Or maybe 11:55, with allowed time for delays,”

“Sherlock,” you tried again. “The rehearsal’s not for another two weeks. Just calm down”

He whipped around to face you. “Calm? I am calm. I’m extremely calm.”

“Yes, I can see that,” you said sarcastically, noting the wild look in his eyes.

“Let’s get back to the reception, come on,” Mary said from across the room, diffusing the tension. “John’s cousin. Top table?”

Sherlock rose to join John and Mary at the table. “Hmm. Hates you. Can’t even bear to think about you.”

You rolled your eyes. You tossed the catering menus to the side and walked over to the table to look over Mary’s shoulder.

“Seriously?” Mary asked, shocked

“Second class post, cheap card bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp: three attempts at licking. She’s obviously unconsciously retaining saliva.”

“Don’t worry Mary, I’ve met her and she’s the worst. Let’s stick her by the bogs,” you interjected.

“Oh yes,” Mary agreed.

“Pretending I didn’t hear that,” John said, looking down at his phone.

“Who else hates me?” Mary asked Sherlock. He turned around and handed her a handwritten list. “Oh great – thanks,” Mary said unenthusiastically.

“Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting,” John announced. He’d been looking through inquiries for cases on the blog. It was only a little annoying that he wasn’t helping. “How about this: ‘My husband is three people’? It’s interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin.”

“Identical triplets – one in half a million births. Solved it without leaving the flat. Now, serviettes.” Sherlock bent down and pulled a tray out from under the coffee table that had two different elaborately folded napkins. “Swan or Sydney Opera House?”

“Wow…” you said flatly. He’s lost it. You bit your lip in concern and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Where’d you learn to do that?!” Mary asked, impressed.

“Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation ...”

“You’re lying, Sherlock,” you said, teasing.

“I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of ...”

“Sherlock, out with it.” You pressed him further.

“Okay – I learned it on YouTube.”

“Well then, Sydney Opera House, please,” Mary said with a smile.

You turned away, thinking. “Hey, Mary? Can I show you what I was thinking for my bridesmaid dress?”

“Uh, sure,” She replied.

“Great!” you said and grabbed her wrist. You pulled her into the kitchen and closed the door. “Mary, we have to do the thing. Right now.”

“Are you sure, he seems okay-ish?” She said skeptically.

“Okay-ish?! Mary, he’s watching YouTube videos on napkin folding. He’s terrified.”

“Right. You’re right. Okay, you speak with Sherlock while I get John.”

You opened the doors to the living room to see Sherlock sitting on the floor, surrounded by at least 15 napkins folded in the opera house shape.

“That just sort of ... happened,” he said dropping his hands to his side.

“Did you just do that now?” John asked, finally looking up from his phone.

“Okay. John?” Mary started. “I’m about to give Beth a call, she’ll want to talk to you as well.” Mary held her phone up and gestured to the kitchen.

“Oh Beth, that’s right. We’ve been meaning to call her.” John got up and followed her.

You walked over to Sherlock and took a seat on the floor next to him. He reached under the table for more napkins, but you caught his hand and shook your head.

“I think we have enough for now. I actually need to talk to you about something, Sherlock. I’m worried about John.” He looked over at you, listening intently. You lowered your voice and inched closer. “I think all the wedding planning is getting to him. He needs to get out for a bit, I can tell.” Sherlock nodded along with you. “I can’t say anything because he won’t listen to me. He’s just going to think I’m worrying too much. Could you please find him a case, any case? For me?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You can count on me.” Sherlock whispered. He stood up and carefully smoothed out his suit. John walked back into the room. You got up and silently joined Mary into the kitchen. A few moments later, Sherlock and John walked into the kitchen.

“Er, we’re just going to ... I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some, er, socks.” John awkwardly fumbled over his words.

“Ties,” Sherlock interjected.

“Let’s go with socks,” Mary said.

“Could be a while,” John said. “We’ve got to make sure they match my—”

“Tie” Sherlock interrupted. John looked back at him, exasperated.

“My coat in there?” John cleared his throat. Mary nodded and John turned the corner. Sherlock leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Just going to take him out for a bit – run him.”

“Good work, Sherlock,” you said with a smile. Sherlock winked at you and walked out of the door. When they were out of sight, you turned to Mary.

“Do you fancy a drink?”

“Let’s go,” She replied.

That had been the end of your involvement in the case of the Bloody Guardsman. You had heard the rest of the story from John. Sherlock hadn’t particularly felt like sharing. Probably because he never solved it. You listened to Sherlock lay out his chosen details in his speech all the way up to Sherlock and John finding Stephen Bainbridge bleeding out in a shower in the barracks.

“Private Bainbridge had just come off guard duty. He’d stood there for hours, plenty of people watching, nothing apparently wrong. He came off duty and within minutes was nearly dead from a wound in his stomach, but there was no weapon. Where did it go? Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to consider this: a murderer who can walk through walls, a weapon that can vanish – but in all of this, there is only one element which can be said to be truly remarkable. Would anyone like to make a guess?”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, Sherlock was challenging people to solve a case on the spot that he didn’t even figure out himself. You pitied whoever he chose to humiliate.

“Scotland Yard.” Greg looked up from his drink. “Have you got a theory?” Greg stared blankly at Sherlock. “Yeah, you. You’re a detective – broadly speaking. Got a theory?”

This was going to be bad.

“Er, um, if the, uh, if the if-if-if, if the blade was, er, propelled through the, um ... grating in the air vent ... maybe a-a ballista or a – or a – or a catapult. Erm, somebody tiny could … could crawl in there.” Molly cringed. “So, yeah, we’re loo... we’re looking for a-a-a-a dwarf.”

“Brilliant,” said Sherlock

“Really?” Greg replied immediately

“No,” Sherlock said coldly. Ruthless. Greg lowered his head back into his drink. Across the room, you saw Tom whispering something into Molly’s ear.

“Hello? Who was that?” Sherlock asked and looked around the room before settling on Tom. “Tom. Got a theory?” Tom slowly stood up across the room.

Poor Tom looked uneasy. He shifted around for a bit before reluctantly giving his opinion. “Um ... attempted suicide, with a blade made of compacted blood and bone that broke after piercing his abdomen ... like a meat ... dagger.”

Molly wore a look of uncomprehending embarrassment. You looked to Sherlock. He had a look on his face that was a strange mix of smugness and disbelief. “A meat dagger.” He stated.

“Yes,” Tom said, awkwardly.

“Sit down.” Molly hissed. She reached up and yanked Tom down to his seat by his sleeve.

“No,” said Sherlock plainly. “There was one feature, and only one feature, of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual. John Watson: who, while I was trying to solve the murder, instead saved a life.”

You smiled at John’s proud expression. So that was the point of Sherlock’s roundabout story. It surprised you because when they’d initially came home that day, all Sherlock could focus on was how the attempted murderer did it and why he couldn’t figure it out. It was nice to see he had developed a new perspective.

“The case itself remains the most ingenious and brilliantly-planned murder – or attempted murder – I’ve ever had the pleasure to encounter; the most perfect locked-room mystery of which I am aware. However, I’m not just here to praise John – I’m also here to embarrass him, so let’s move on to some ...”

“No-no, wait, so how was it ... how was it done?” Lestrade interrupted.

Now Sherlock would have to admit he didn’t solve the case. You smirked. That’s what you get for insisting on embarrassing Greg and Tom.

“How was what done?” Sherlock asked, attempting to deflect

“The stabbing,” Lestrade clarified.

Sherlock looked down for a moment, then reluctantly continued. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I didn’t solve that one. That’s ... It can happen sometimes. It’s very ... very disappointing.” He looked down for a moment as if contemplating then continued. “Embarrassment leads me on to the stag night.”

A/N: So sorry this is so late! I haven’t forgotten about this series, I promise! I just moved into a new apartment in college and it’s already been nuts!

taglist: @the-chaotic-cow @amoeebaa @sad-bitch-h0ur @scorpios-echos

If you want to be added to the taglist for future updates, go like the post I made earlier about it!

#bbc sherlock #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlock imagine #sherlockxreader #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x you #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #the sign of three #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you

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shoichee · 3 years

Note

part 4: hcs dedicated to reactions: seirin (their precious lil manager going out with that scissor-wielding emperor bastard!?) and rakuzan (their captain was in love with that girl who cussed at him near the vending machine?!? ITS SO FUNNY) ++ angst where akashi gets jealous of readers teammates (IZUKI kuroko kagami furi... but mostly izuki bc point guards with eye powers) because he still feels bad about what happened and thinks he doesnt deserve her -- teiko anon

OUR LEGENDARY TEIKO ANON HAS SPOKEN OF AN EPILOGUE, alright y’all the finale FINALE 🧘🏻‍♀️ OKAY, i don’t think I hammered too hard on the angst, but enjoy the fluff and subtle crack😌

OOH, looks like another anon wants a pt. 4! :0 Since it is primarily the Teiko anon’s request, I will be prioritizing the first request, but I will combine a few aspects of this request to make a fuller headcanon epilogue! Hope everyone enjoys this! part 1 here // part 2 here // part 3 here

Akashi x Reader

Part 4: Epilogue

[Teiko!manager Headcanons]

in the aftermath of the Winter Cup, your relationship with Akashi has certainly gotten much better, and dare you say, more intimate and romantic; though you were still healing a bit from the emotional scars from Teiko, they seemed to be going away faster than you realized, especially when everyone gathers for Kuroko’s birthday party

you were with Seirin, helping with the decorations and setting up the plates before Kuroko comes in the evening, but what no one expected was for him to bring in the GoMs

YOU’RE SHOOK AND YOU’RE BASHFUL SEEING AKASHI IN HIS WINTER ATTIRE, you’re getting MAD butterflies, but no one seems to notice because everyone’s attention is on the GoMs and Kuroko

of course Akashi was scanning the room for you first, and you immediately look away from his affectionate stare because you were still not used to the old Akashi, let alone his sweeter side for only you

Izuki notices how quiet you got and nudged your ribs with his elbow before telling a stupid pun… the thing is, you were one of the few people who genuinely found his jokes funny LOL

Akashi widens his eyes, staring at you laughing so unabashedly, and he feels really, really bad that he never got that level of a reaction from you whenever you were with him even despite knowing you for longer

now as the party goes on, Akashi is seeing your dynamics with Seirin for the first time and he’s just really grateful that you found an amazing support group during your low times; he’s not particularly someone to get jealous, but he’s getting a BAD case of FOMO because he’s thinking of all the “what-if’s” and all the times he could’ve made you happy and stress-free

“Akashi-kun?”

“Ah… yes?” Akashi snaps out of his daze to see a mild smirk coming from Kuroko on his right side, and Kuroko was about to ask a question about who he was looking at before a shout of “Watch out!” and a ceramic plate came FLYING across the table to hit the Rakuzan captain square on his face

CUE SCREAMS OF PANIC AS MOMOI PUNCHES AOMINE ON THE HEAD AND RIKO JUMPS TO STRANGLE KAGAMI, AND YOU LITERALLY ZOOMED TO HIS SIDE TO CHECK ON ANY INJURIES

see, he could’ve easily dodged it, and he supposed that it’s his fault for not paying attention and dodging on time

thankfully, the plate didn’t break because Kuroko caught the plate before it reached the floor and placed it back on the table

Akashi still has a bruise or two on his face though… and ngl, everyone gulped when they saw him checking out the injuries with a handheld mirror, ready to get their ankles broken

you were so worried over his safety, he finds it really endearing… but he wants to elicit an expression other than looks of worry or tears or anger (flashback to when you cussed him out)

“Wait, but (y/n)...” Koganei said. “Since when were you so close to Akashi that you didn’t hesitate to touch his face?”

a few moments of silence for everyone to register his words

“EHHHH?????!!!!”

everyone is throwing QUESTION after QUESTION at the two of you, and Akashi just has a neutral face with his mouth parted while you were so embarrassed LMAO

Kise being a real best friend, tells them:

“Alright, alright, everyone! Let’s not forget about the birthday boy! Kurokocchi should be the center of our attention today!”

“Kise, that’s…”

“Anywho! Let’s light up the cake and find those party poppers…”

after the party though, when you all return to school, Seirin was READY to jump on you for interrogation, and you do reluctantly tell them that you and Akashi are a tentative couple

Riko: “SERIOUSLY? I mean… that’s kinda cute though…”

Hyuuga: “I mean… yeah, as long as you’re happy, it’s none of my business.”

Teppei: “I hope he treats you well, (y/n)-san.” and of course he gives you his signature head pats

Furihata, Tsuchida, Kawahara: “??????????????????? But why?”

Koganei: “Huh, guess that explains a lot.”

Kagami: “???????????? pt. 2 LMAO” and also “What do you even see in him?” in genuine curiosity

Izuki: “ I guess you two dove into this relationship without hesitation, eh? Get it, get it? Because doves are a symbol of lo—”

“Izuki, shut the fuck up.”

“It means that you love (Ai)kashi—” [Ai means love]

“IZUKI.”

Kuroko simply pretends that this is the first time he’s heard of you dating Akashi, and he gives you his heartfelt congratulations, and as long as Kuroko approves of it, you feel like you’re on the right track (he’s such a good judge of character!)

you and Akashi actually live VERY far apart, considering that your schools are equally just as far in distance, but that being said, for our rich boy Akashi, distance isn’t much of a problem when he can easily find ways to come visit any time

he can also pay for your transportation to visit Rakuzan if you ever felt like visiting him too (although, you insist to pay for your own things, but he’s not having it because he says it’s a treat for him to see you too)

whenever Akashi stops by the Seirin campus to visit, he’s just kind of awkward standing there like the prince that he is, waiting for the perfect opportunity to walk in, but every time, he’d ALWAYS notice how you’re so happy being with everyone here, especially with Izuki, and his guilt just comes back full force again

he wonders if this was right of him to date you when there’s so much people who can easily do a better job in getting you to smile and be completely yourself, especially since he’s been the source of your anguish for all these months (maybe even a year or two if he was counting the duration of your entire crush on him that you assumed to be unrequited)

“Seijurō!” your voice rang out, beckoning him to walk towards you and the group

all of the Seirin teammates are so wary of him, and are all hyper aware of his movements LOL, and Kuroko is just like “hi, you’re back” very casually

Kagami uses this as a chance to challenge a one-on-one on Akashi

Kagami gets destroyed in a few minutes flat

the whole time you’re just watching Akashi with heart eyes, unbeknownst to him while he was focused on Kagami

after the interrogation and Akashi passing the “first stage” of acceptance, you and him find time to have a cute date at a local shopping district to walk around and sightsee

Akashi finds it fun, he really did, but there’s a part of him that thinks you’d have more fun with people who know you better… a.k.a. Izuki, or legit any other Seirin member

he’s visibly distracted by his own thoughts, and you wave a hand to his face, asking if this was too boring for him

“No, no, of course I’m enjoying this with you,” he muses, putting a gentle kiss to your temple. “Shall we get moving?”

“Something’s bothering you isn’t it.”

“No,” he chuckles, giving a gentle smile, but you only frown at him… once again he sees that you weren’t smiling at him

“I’m serious Sei, I want to get to know the real you,” you softly chastise, pinching his cheek. “So I also want you to speak your mind around me.”

“Oh ho… I see that your boldness is still very present here,” he says in referring to your touch.

“Oh my god, can you drop it already? That’s so embarrassing—I cussed you out one time… hey don’t change the subject!”

“Hmm…” he hums for a bit before he comes clean. “I’m afraid that I might not be the right person to be worthy by your side after hurting you for so long.”

“... What makes you think that?” He hesitates, for the first time, not being so sure of himself and his emotions; he immediately thinks of Izuki and your good chemistry with him but dismisses the thought

“... I just do not think I’m capable enough to make you happy.”

“But you are. I’m very giddy to be with you right now.”

“Even happier than when you are with… your teammates?”

“Huh?”

“I apologize,” he hurriedly says. “They are your friends. I was out of line to question them.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Talk it out to me.” He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you both continue to walk and browse through the shops, and you carefully watch Akashi while he’s examining a few souvenirs on the display, patient for him to continue talking

“... the point guard.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Seirin’s point guard.”

“Izuki-kun? What about him?”

“While I’m aware that you only spend your time with him as a good friend… I want to spend just as much of a koala-ty time with you whenever we have the chance.”

he... says this with the straightest face, and you’re utterly confused before you saw some animal plushies on the store window, and the the koala plush, and then the cogs started turning in your head

“... Did you just say a pun?”

“Was it not sufficient?”

a few moments of silence pass and Akashi thinks he did something wrong because he wanted to make you smile (HELP poor captain), before you break into hysterics

between your fits of broken laughs and wheezes, you managed to ask if he was jealous of Izuki, to which he wholeheartedly kept denying until you wouldn’t stop being persistent

you reassure him over and over that he doesn’t need to act like Izuki to make you happy, but it was a pleasant surprise to see Akashi crack a “joke” nonetheless

he’s a bit new to the concept of dating and is still quite unsure of how to navigate this PLEASE GIVE HIM TIME

the date that day was a success (some of the Seirin teammates TOTALLY weren’t spying on you mid-date or anything…)

while Seirin is okay with you dating, visiting Rakuzan ALONE with the scary-ass captain and his “CROONIES” (hint: the rest of the team LMAOO) IS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT STORY

RIKO AND HYUUGA are just like:

“What’s wrong with him coming here to visit you? Why do you gotta do the effort to visit him?”

“Uh… because I want to…”

“Yes, but who would you call to help over if something wrong happens? You’d be too far!”

“Uh, Akashi can help me if something happens.”

“With what, his scissors?” Kagami gives a deadpan look, and everyone turns to look at him in utter confusion LMAOOO like what does this redhead mean by SCISSORS???

Kuroko immediately jabs Kagami’s sides to silence him and smoothly changes the conversation before anyone asks any more questions about the “scissors” and potentially make them more reluctant to let you go

oh Kuroko, being the mediator and negotiator as always, trying to set some safety protocols for you to follow before everyone finally agrees to let you go see the infamous team alone

you know, Teppei is honestly just like, “Just go! Don’t worry about our (y/n) too much!”

Furihata is so concerned for your safety for valid reasons, but you reassure him that you won’t “die from the trip,” and no, this wouldn’t “be the last time” they’d see you before you leave

so when you stopped by Rakuzan’s gym after school after looking at the online maps, Hayama lets out a screech of terror before he starts pointing at you and calling you the “crazy ass chick” who tried to have a first-row seat ticket to death LOL

Hayama’s commotion brought everyone else’s attention to you, and Akashi was very surprised to see you all the way here

but he’s just standing at the back to watch how his teammates are reacting to you

Reo is the guy who would welcome you very warmly and would introduce you to the other team members who aren’t the starters, and he would actually ask if you were okay from last time

Nebuya is very laid back and throws a few muscle jokes much to Reo’s dismay, and he makes a comment about not you possibly not eating enough because at the time, he saw you almost tripping up your feet after you cussed out Akashi… he offers you his extra bowls if you ever feel hungry VERY SWEET GUY

Mayuzumi thinks you have balls, like who the fuck would come out alive after cussing out his captain but then COME BACK to said school of the captain… like why would you willingly walk back into the lion’s den??? so he thinks you’re dumb, but he has a shred of respect for you

Akashi is so amused at the spectacle and finally walks over to you after you noticed him

and he gives you an embrace and a chaste forehead kiss, and the entire gym goes silent

“Sei! I wanted to drop by as a surprise! Did you expect me?”

“Hm, I may have expected you to come sooner or later, but definitely not this quickly. Were transportation fees too much of a hassle?”

“Nope! I got everything covered! Do you want me to give you any chiropractic massages if you and your teammates need it?”

“You don’t need to do that, (y/n). You came here as a guest, not as a manager.”

“But…”

“Shhh, as soon as practice is done, I’ll take you anywhere you want in Kyotō. How does that sound?”

“Er… captain?” Reo holds up a hesitant finger to interrupt the two of you, while everyone else looks horrified at the sight of their captain looking serene

“Get a room, will you?” Mayuzumi only tuts in irritation while turning away to grab a nearby water bottle to down in one go

Nebuya merely stares in astonishment at the two of you, and his mind is thinking how the hell did you reel in this guy?

nah man, Hayama is GONE at this point: his brain has stopped functioning a while ago, and he’s standing there as stiff as a statue, scratching his head like a lost monkey // like he’s thinking how the fuck did this shit add up?? in his mind, he’s taking 2 plus 2 but it somehow ends up 94… that’s how he’s processing what he’s witnessing

the rest of the benchers and lower-string players are confused? who ARE you anyways?? Akashi?? dating??? that’s Rakuzan gossip of the century

TLDR; your first trip to Rakuzan may be awkward because the two of you stick out like a sore thumb, but eventually after multiple trips, the team slowly begins to consider you as one of their own

as per Akashi’s “suggestion” (hint: not a suggestion, but a strong recommendation), you were to be retreated with respect and kindness

why? Because Akashi never wants a repeat of the situation at Teiko ever again :(

as long as he is captain, and as long as he has the power and authority, he will do everything he can to make you happy and comfortable

don’t worry though, the Rakuzan starters are more than willing to punt any kid who talks shit about you

surprisingly, once Hayama comes around and accepts the fact that you were dating the captain, he’d be the most adamant and vocal protector, and he’s the one who shares the “inside tips and tricks” about the captain EEEE it’s so wholesome !!

the Rakuzan team is your certified bodyguard group, no debate

Reo might be the nosy mom who asks about who confessed first and the like…

the END, and I DO MEAN THE END THIS TIME

#knb #kuroko no basket #knb x reader #akashi seijuro #knb headcanons #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro x reader #teiko #knb teiko #teiko middle school #THE END FOR REAL

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