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zhongliologist · 3 years

Text

Breeding Kink Pt. 2 | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!!

Words: 5.2k

A/N: Oh god i have no braincells anymore. Zhongli fcked with my braincells as well. Here ya go. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Happy Birthday as well.

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

PART 1 HERE

It was already deep into the night.

The last of the busy market kiosks has died down, the golden glow of their lanterns flickered off for the day, while the late-night loiterers had gone to rest at their station as silence and the sound of crickets settled in. The harbor has truly gone to sleep after a rough day’s work, and will rise once again at early dawn.

Yet inside the bedchambers of a certain married couple, things were still heating up.

“Z-Zhongli…! Please…!”

You held on to the silken sheets tightly with face flushed and sweating. Every now and then, a moan would escape your lips, savoring the moment where ecstasy was at its peak. It felt good—really good—as your husband Zhongli thrusted sharply into you.

“YN…” he growled beside your ear as he bent down, kissing the bare skin of your shoulders. “YN…I’m close…haa…”

He could feel all the pleasure welling up inside of him. You were holding on to him like a vice grip, as if wringing him out of his seed and coaxing him to come inside you. Zhongli felt his dick twitch at the thought of filling you up, pushing him closer to his climax.

“Aahhh…so g-good….mmnn….! Zhongli…! I’m gonna—”

“My love…I-I…!”

—!

“Mama? Papa…?”

A knock at their door, followed by a small voice stopped the both of them in their tracks.

Oh no, not again…

Looking at each other, you and Zhongli immediately scrambled to compose yourselves.

“Yuqing…ah, please stay where you are—"

“Honey, just a second! Let me…let me just find my slippers—”

Hurriedly, you grabbed your discarded robe on the floor and put on your sandals, while your husband raced to the adjacent bathroom to relieve himself. “Love, I’ll be there in a moment. Please take Yuqing back to her room in the meantime,” was what he said.

As you opened the door, you were greeted by curious amber eyes—the same as her father’s—who seemingly stared at you as if trying to assess the situation. She was carrying her favorite plushie, a geovishap hatchling, for some reason, while you knelt down and caressed her cheeks gently.

“Yuqing? What’s wrong?” you asked her, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“Something jumped from the window, Mama…! I…I don’t want to go back!” She replied, almost in a whisper as she held on to the plushie tightly.

Your daughter’s words immediately caught your attention. It could just be a squirrel, or maybe something more dangerous. Nevertheless, you have to go check it out.

“Alright, honey. Let’s see what it is,” you replied as you carried her on your arms. “Mama and Papa can easily hunt monsters down!”

Yuqing blinked at you. “Hm? But where’s Papa?”

“Oh, uh…he just needs to pee,” you replied awkwardly, not totally forgetting what you two were doing a while ago.

By the time you arrived at Yuqing’s bedroom, you were greeted by a calico cat which was carrying her own young into the room, staring at you both with scrutinizing eyes. It seemed to have taken a liking to the room and decided to take shelter there. You instantly knew what was the matter.

“It’s a mama cat!” Yuqing exclaimed happily, jumping from your grasps as you muttered “be careful!” at the ecstatic child.

“Don’t come too close to it, honey,” you told her, sitting on the bed as you watched your daughter crouch near the animal to observe it. “The mama cat doesn’t like it if you touch her kittens. She might scratch you.”

“Oh…” your daughter murmured disappointingly, and then returned to your side when she had enough watching.

Looking down to her, you could really see how much Yuqing resembled Zhongli—the same eyes, the same dignified yet gentle countenance. Her hair was a little lighter but it’ll probably turn as dark as Zhongli’s when she’s older. You smiled at the thought of watching your daughter grow—a few years ago, she was still so small and fragile as you held her for the first time, but now, she’ll be turning six, and then eleven, and then little will you know, she has become such a fine lady.

Pulling her into an embrace, you caught the child off guard as you smothered her with kisses.

“Mama!” She protested, but was giggling at the same time. “Mama…what are you doing!”

“I just love my dearest Yuqing!” you exclaimed, but then stopped to pat her head gently. “Now, are you still scared?”

The dark-haired girl shook her head with a smile. “I’m ok now, Mama! It was just a cat.”

“Alright,” you smiled as you began tucking her in again. “We’ll talk in the morning what we’ll do with the cat, but right now, it’s time for you to sleep. Little girls need to sleep for them to grow big, okay?”

“Understood! Good night then, Mama!” Yuqing replied underneath her blanket, as you gently soothed her head. The whole time, you continued to do it until she had finally fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the small child which made you smile warmly.

By the time you returned to your bedroom, you could see that the bathroom lights were still on. You were waiting for Zhongli to swing by Yuqing’s room earlier but for some reason, he’s been caught up in the bathroom this whole time. It also seemed like your husband had heard you enter the room and began calling for you.

“Dear…! Perhaps you could come here for a moment?”

Curious about what was going on, you then stepped into the bathroom and only to be greeted by a much larger, more draconic Zhongli. You could only stare at the large protruding horns on his head, the scales on his arms and legs, and the tail that was swinging back and forth between his legs. Not to mention the large thing on his crotch that made you do a double take at the mere sight of it.

Zhongli closed his eyes as soon as he noticed your stunned expression. Despite how he looks, he still had a bit of his self-control intact.

“YN, I think we have a problem here,” he told you as calmly as he could.

“I might be going into heat again.”

It was finally D-Day.

The both of you spent the last week trying to prepared for this, because unlike the first time, you had responsibilities. For one, Yuqing had to be taken elsewhere and away from the carnage. It will not bode well if your child is there while your husband is being one horny dragon.

The people both of you know where highly dangerous though. Among the rejected list was Childe, Hu Tao, and Venti, with the last one loudly lamenting how he couldn’t have fun with Yuqing in Mondstadt. Keqing and Ningguang would be great but they’re busy with work, while the adepti wouldn’t have enough skills and patience to babysit a child for a week, even if it was the child of the former geo archon. That’s why in the end, you asked Lumine and Aether to take care of your daughter for a while—they were at least, safe enough not to put Yuqing in danger. Hopefully.

On the other hand, you had to prepare yourself for another bang of your life. The first time had caught you off guard, but this time, you were prepared to satiate your half-dragon husband to the fullest. You had also prepared yourself to conceive another child. Well, you really were planning to, but it was the night when Yuqing interrupted you two.

“Dear?” A head peered into the kitchen—or rather, a head with two horns.

Zhongli’s dragon features seemed to be staying longer and longer the nearer his heat approaches. Luckily enough, it wasn’t much of a rare sight in Liyue.

“Oh, morning, Zhongli. Should I brew you some tea?” you asked, busying yourself with breakfast for your family of three.

“It’s alright. I’ll do it,” he replied as he stepped in beside you, preparing the hot water to be boiled.

For a while, the both of you stayed like this in silence. You were concentrating on not getting the congee burned while he was trying to get the proper temperature of the water.

In the end, it was Zhongli who broke the silence.

“Will you be alright later?”

You whipped your head to his direction. “H-huh? What? Me? Oh, I’ll be fine!”

“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you and caressing your cheeks with the tip of his sharp claws. “If only I could assure you that it will be painless.”

“Zhongli,” you called his name firmly as you flipped an egg. “You have never hurt me, and you never will. I survived the first time, right? We have Yuqing running around after all.”

Your words seemed to have magically melted his worries away, no matter how tacky you thought there were. But you didn’t know that Zhongli simply needed your assurance that it will be okay, otherwise, he’d go into a spiral of worry. Comforted by your presence, he crept his arms around you, hugging you from your side.

“Ah, my wife…my lovely wife…” he muttered happily as he nestled his head on your shoulder, savoring your scent and your warmth. “You’re really my wife…”

You giggled at his sudden show of playfulness. “That I am, sir.”

For Zhongli to be this affectionate, it seemed his heat has really gotten to him. Normally, he’ll reserve these kinds of actions for the both of you late at night, but right now, he’s incredibly clingly and wouldn’t stop following you wherever you go. For the most part, he really loves taking in your scent and running his hands around your body.

Soon enough, you hear the loud and rapid padding of feet on the floor as it dashed towards the kitchen where the two of you were. In a few moments, Zhongli was face to face with his own daughter who grinned gleefully at him.

“Mama, Papa!” Yuqing exclaimed as she clung to you like her father.

“Now young lady, what brings you here early in the morning?” Zhongli asked mischievously, still hugging you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Lumine and Aether! They’re coming right? They’re coming!” she almost shouted, arm tightly adhered to your leg.

“In about half an hour, darling,” you replied. “Now, are you both aware that I’m trying to cook here? I can’t move!”

Instead of letting go however, Zhongli tightened his hold of you while nuzzling deeper on your shoulder while Yuqing did the same on your leg. You grumbled. “Like father, like daughter.”

Giggling, Yuqing glanced at her father who was tightly clinging to you like she was.

“Papa, do you like Mama?”

Zhongli, for a moment, smiled at her warmly before replying. “Very much so, my dear.”

You could only hide your flustered expression at his words. But of course, it made your heart skip a beat, even after marrying him and having his child, Zhongli could still make you feel this way with just a few words.

It was a good thing that Yuqing changed the subject before your heart could explode.

“Papa! You have horns!” she exclaimed and pointed at Zhongli’s head.

“Oh? Is this your first time seeing it?” he asked as he knelt to the floor. “Do you want to touch it?”

Zhongli could definitely see his daughter’s amber eyes sparkling with curiosity as she slowly inched her way closer to him. Yuqing may look like him, but she definitely has your temperament. The way she sees the world with so much wonder and excitement reminded Zhongli of you.

“Can I, Papa? Can I?” she asked, her small fingers reaching out for them.

“Yes, you may, my dear.”

Bending down, Zhongli felt Yuqing glide her fingers at smooth surface of the horns. “Be careful though, the tips should be sharp enough to wound you.”

Filled with wonder, the child gazed at Zhongli with amazement. “Papa, are you a dragon?!”

“I can become one.”

“Does…! Does that mean I can be a dragon too?!”

Aahh…You smiled at the two of them as you finished the last of your cooking. “Alright now. Let’s have breakfast. The twins will be here soon if we don’t hurry up!”

“Aether! Lumine!”

The dark-haired girl immediately ran towards the twins right after you opened the door to greet them, incredibly excited for the week ahead. Aether scooped her into his arms right away as Lumine pinched her cheek for being so adorable.

“We’re extremely grateful to you two for agreeing to take care of Yuqing,” you told them bashfully. “It was hard to think of anyone reliable and willing to do it in such a short notice.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Lumine replied, “We’d love to have Yuqing around anyway! Right, Aether?”

Distracted with playing with Yuqing, Aether turned to Lumine who was looking at him pointedly. “Huh? Oh! Oh yeah! We’re gonna play a lot!”

“Let’s play house again, Aether!” Yuqing interrupted, “I’ll be the mommy, Lumine will be the aunty and you’re the daddy!”

A large, tall shadow loomed over the twins from behind you. “I prefer if you’d arrange the designations in a different way.”

“Oh, Zhongli.” You turned to your husband who was menacing enough to make the male twin tremble like a leaf, especially in his half-dragon form.

“M-Mr. Z-Zhongli!” Aether immediately felt a chill run down his spine. If anything, he felt an overprotective dad is way scarier than all the monsters he battled so far.

“Good morning Mr. Zhongli,” Lumine greeted the man calmly with a smile. “You don’t have to worry about anything! Yuqing can be the mommy, I’ll be the daddy and Aether’s the dog.”

“Good.”

You could only smile awkwardly at the whole exchange. If this continues on, Zhongli might change his mind and insist his daughter to stay.

“Alright, here’s all her clothes for the week as well as other stuff she needs,” you interrupted as you shoved a bag on Lumine’s hands. “Please don’t hesitate to call us if something happens.”

Lumine only glanced at you with a plastered smile. Bothering them isn’t something she’d really want to do.

“We will, YN,” Aether replied and then exchanged looks with his sister. “I think it’s time for us to take off now though.”

“Alright. Come on, Yuqing, let mama and papa kiss you goodbye,” you told them as you reached out for your daughter who easily climbed out of Aether’s arms.

Crouching down, you and Zhongli embraced your daughter tightly, kissing her cheeks several times until she began protesting. With Zhongli chuckling, he patted her head gently while reminding her of several things.

“Now young lady, be of your best behavior. Don’t make Lumine and Aether worry too much.

“I will, Papa! Can I have almond tofu as a reward then?”

Zhongli smiled at her amusingly. “Alright. Do we have a contract then?”

“Yes! It’s a pinky promise!” Yuqing held out her pinky and linked it with Zhongli’s, who was careful not to scratch her with his claws.

“Don’t forget to drink your vitamins and eat your vegetables, ok? And sleep on time. Be careful not to go anywhere without telling Lumine or Aether!”

Yuqing sighed, “Yes, yes, Mama. I will.”

Ruffling her head, you finally kissed her forehead while Zhongli did the same.

“Don’t forget to have fun!”

As she ran off to Lumine’s side, the both of you stood up.

“We’ll be going then. See you after a week!” Aether exclaimed as they began to take the steps down the porch.

“Bye, bye, Mama, Papa!”

With that, the three of them disappeared and went off their way.

Glancing at your husband, it had finally dawned on you that this was only the beginning.

“So, should we get started?”

He asked, and you froze.

“W-wait…! Zhongli!”

“What’s the matter?”

Your husband asked you, as if he wasn’t pinning you against the wall, nuzzling against your neck as he took in your scent. You could feel his warm breath against your pulse, his hands on your waist as he continued to pepper small, faint kisses on your skin.

“It’s…it’s the middle of the day…a-and…and…!”

“You never had an issue with that… are you getting shy, my love?”

You could sense the teasing tone in his voice as he nibbled on your ear, without ever the intention of removing himself from you. Flustered, you pursed your lips as you bit down a moan.

“N-No, I’m not! It’s just…!”

“It’s just what?”

Zhongli smirked at your unexpected bashfulness, urging him to tease you more to see more of that adorable expression of yours.

“I-I mean, we just sent off Yuqing…and they might return or something—”

“Oh, they won’t.” Zhongli gave your jaw a small hickey. “Or at least I’m sure they are well aware not to bother us.”

“H-Huh…?”

Without furnishing you an answer, he simply knelt down before you and wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you down. Looking down, you could see him smirking mischievously at you, making you gulp.

“Why don’t we get you ready, my love?”

Slipping his head underneath your skirt, you instantly felt his lips on your thighs as he kissed his way up towards your core. You could feel yourself melting at the heat of the situation; the sensation of his warm tongue prodding your clothed entrance.

“Z-Zhongli…! Mnhh…!”

Even with your underwear on, you could easily feel him stimulate your sensitive clit as he circled his tongue around before sucking it. Your knees buckled immediately as you found your hands holding on to his horns, careful not to pull too much.

“You’re so drenched here, YN,” he told you, his voice vibrating against your sensitive parts.

“D-Don’t say that! O-Ohh…! Fuck!”

You couldn’t even tell him off properly as soon as he slid of your underwear and began to tease your hole with his tongue. You could feel him go in and out as his warmth filled you up. But it wasn’t enough, of course. After getting a taste of the real thing, nothing could satiate you other than him.

“Zhongli…oh god! Ah—!”

Without stopping, he continued to lap on your juices and stimulate you until you were at the edge of orgasm. You could feel your legs grow weak and the only thing keeping you from falling to the floor was his tight grip on you as he ruthlessly ate you out like a hungry man.

Peeking from underneath your skirt, Zhongli watched as he gradually pushed you closer and closer to your climax. His bright amber eyes filled with lust as he stared at your half-lidded eyes and trembling lips; crying his name out loud over and over again. He wanted to take you then and there, push his cock inside you until you were filled to the brim; his hard on was excruciatingly painful inside his pants, but he had to be patient and get you ready for him.

“Come for me, love,” he muttered, circling his tongue around your clit once more and sucking it.

It only took an instant for you to shiver and tremble in pleasure as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. Your skin felt like a surge of electricity passed over you as your knees buckled and your arms held on to his shoulders to stop you from falling over.

Removing himself from underneath your skirt, Zhongli then scooped your weak figure and carried you on his arms towards the sofa. He had you sitting on his lap facing him while you encircled your arms around his shoulders and waiting for your high to calm down.

For a while, the both of you stayed like this. Zhongli kept on giving you small pecks on your neck and shoulders, slowly divesting you of your clothes as he went around your body. It was slow and sensual; unlike the first time he was in heat.

“H-Hey…you too…” you purred, kissing the underside of his jaw.

He only hummed at you; his hands busy with getting your skirt off of you. “Yes?”

“Let me undress you too.”

Zhongli reigned in his urges as soon as he heard your suggestion. His face flushed as he watched you slowly remove his tie and unbutton his shirt to reveal his toned chest. Groaning at the feeling of your hands on his bare skin, he knew he only had a few moments left before all his self-control could fly off the window. But it was incredible, he could only feel himself grow even harder.

Soon enough, you were already on the floor kneeling before him. Zhongli felt himself tense up at what you were about to do, but had to strength left to stop you from doing it. Silently, he watched as you glide your hands on his things and then to the prolific bulge on his pants. You could feel him poke you earlier while you were sitting on his lap, which gave you the idea of blowing him off.

Gradually, you undid his belt and pants and finally take out his monstrosity of a cock. Zhongli gave a guttural groan as he felt your hands pump his shaft tentatively, his claws biting at the soft leather of the sofa.

It wasn’t the first time you saw his cock, and while it was impressive in normal days, the one right before you was definitely befitting of a dragon. You hesitated.

H-how did this thing fit inside of me before?!

Nevertheless, you continued on. It was massive but it was definitely hot, seeing Zhongli sitting there in front of you with a flushed face and his cock out. Timidly, you gave the tip a small peck as you slowly allowed your tongue to glide over it.

“Y-YN…that’s…!”

Empowered by his reactions, you then licked the underside of his shaft until it was glistening wet with your saliva. Eventually, precum began to ooze out of the tip and curiously, you began licking it as well, sucking it in the process.

“Ughh…! F-fuck…YN…! I’m really—”

Trying to bob your head up and down, you could only fit so much of him inside your mouth as your jaw tried to accommodate his size. But you felt your core tighten up and become wet, thinking that this cock will eventually fill you up to the brim with his cum.

Zhongli was rapidly losing it. He wanted to cum, but he wanted to cum inside of you and have you bear his child. He wanted to see your cunt filled with his seed until it oozes out of you, and then plug his cock back inside of you to fill you up once again.

No, this won’t do.

“YN…! Y-YN…! P-Please stop! Mnnh—!”

He held your chin to make you stop—the way your lips left a trail of saliva to his dick tempted him push it back inside your mouth—but he had to end it there, right before he came inside your mouth. Slowly he guided you towards him; confused as to why he stopped you right before he was about to come, you moved back to his lap where he gently caressed you and wiped his fluids from your cheeks.

“Let me kiss you, my love.”

In a soft and gentle kiss, Zhongli captured your lips. You could feel it radiating with love and warmth as he slid his lips over yours, his tongue darting inside, as if trying to fill his senses of you and only you. You both kissed until your lips were swollen, until you felt him rub his shaft against you unconsciously, making you moan in the kiss.

“Z-Zhongli…” you gasped for air. “Are you…holding yourself back?”

With those amber eyes, he gazed at you seriously—all the while keeping your lips closed to his.

“Is it a sin to treasure you so much?”

His words caught you off guard, but eventually, you smiled. Zhongli never failed to express his love for you. He was gentle and kind, a good husband and an even better father. Brushing a few stray locks of hair from his sweat-riddled face, you kissed his forehead as a way to show how much you appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you for thinking about me, Zhongli,” you remarked, “But right now, I really want you to let loose and fill me up completely with you.”

With eyes blown wide, Zhongli felt himself twitch at your words—his arousal no longer hidden. Grabbing the back of your head, he then crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss lidden with passion and lust. He bit and licked on your lips while his hand groped your full breasts, pinching at your nipples to make you gasp against his lips.

“Then so be it,” he smirked. “I’ll make you completely mine.”

Guiding his shaft to your slick entrance, he pushed himself inside of you in one go—making you squeal at the sudden sensation of being penetrated. It took some time for you to accommodate his large cock, but eventually, your cunt was drenched so much that it hadn’t become much of an issue.

“Z-Zhongli…! Oh god—fuck! …s-so big…!”

You began riding him, moving up and down on his lap while Zhongli continued to make you feel good by playing with your breasts. You could feel his sharp claws make indentations on your skin, but not hard enough to draw blood, but it was a strange sensation which only heightened the pleasure of having his dragon cock thrusted inside of you.

“Hnnghh!! Y-YN…!” Zhongli winced at the sudden tightness, and began to distract himself from cumming by licking on your pert nipples until they were red and sensitive.

With pleasure attacking you from different parts, you could only mewl as Zhongli gradually turned you into a lewd mess as you felt him twitch inside of you. Soon enough, he’ll be cumming inside of you, and that would the first among many others for this entire week. If his first heat said anything, Zhongli wouldn’t stop mating with you until you were fertilized with his seed.

The thought did nothing but coax you to your climax. You could feel yourself tighten around him as he pounded into you mercilessly, your juices mixing together. Zhongli was also close. He was already extremely aroused, and it wouldn’t take long for him to climax.

“A-Ah—! YN….! L-love…I’m…I’m close…!”

He muttered with face flushed and breath ragged.

“Yes…! Oh god, yes…! P-Please, Zhongli…! Ah—! F-fill me…fill me up…!”

In just a few thrusts, the both of you came at the same time. He pushed deep inside of you and came; his warmth filling you up until he was spent. You were still shivering with pleasure when he pulled you in for a kiss, his tongue once again ravishing you with so much intensity that it could be argued that he made you come once again with just a kiss.

Reeling in from the afterglow, you could still feel him hot and hard inside of you, as his breathed hard against your neck. You were no different though—the way your mind was still covered with a haze of lust, or the way his cock inside of you felt so good as it hit a particularly good spot. The aphrodisiac you got from Dr. Baizhu seemed to be quite effective.

Removing yourself from his embrace, you staggered to stand up with your limp legs, but managed to crawl on fours right beside him.

Zhongli was both bewildered and disappointed to have your warm body away from him, but when you pushed your ass before him and gazed at him with sultry eyes, he felt his heart rate pick up the pace.

It was embarrassing to show your cunt dripping with your juices and his cum, but you didn’t really care much. You were too entrenched with arousal to feel embarrassment.

“Z-Zhongli…let’s…let’s do it again…?”

Grabbing your ass, he spread you out even more, and even slapped your butt lightly. Zhongli could definitely see his cum dripping out of you and promptly scooped it up with his finger and pushed it back inside of you.

“P-Please…! Zhongli…I—!”

He smirked. “Very well.”

Without warning, he slid himself back inside of you; making you bite back the remaining words. It felt incredible having him inside. It was hot, as if you were burned and electrified at the same time. Your mouth hardly had the time to close as he continued to piston in and out of you.

This time however, Zhongli began playing with your oversensitive clit, groaning loudly at how you tightened your walls around him. You squealed in delight as his cock hit a particularly good spot, making you cum sooner than expected.

“Oh…o-oh god! Z-Zhongli….! Zhongli…! A-ah…!”

Yet despite your premature climax, he continued on—thrusting inside of you and prolonging your orgasm. It was so good you could feel tears pooling the side of your eyes as he plowed your sensitive cunt.

“You came, didn’t you?” he asked, his lips once again on yours. “I’ll make you come again soon enough.”

True to his promised, Zhongli picked up his pace and fucked you as roughly as he could. You knew there will be bruises after this but the pleasure was greater than anything for you to care about. The way his cock just fills you up, hitting your g-spot over and over again relentlessly, or the way his groans just sends shivers down your spine.

“F-Fuck…! Fuck…!Z-Zhongli! I’m—! I’m gonna…!”

“Yes, love...! Haa….come for me…! I’ll fill you up with my seed…”

Once again, you came from the overstimulation—your arms failing as the pleasure was greater than anything you experienced so far.

“F-fuck…YN…a-ah—!”

With that, Zhongli suddenly bit your shoulder as he pumped more of his seed inside of you, which only overflowed from your hole. You mewled at the mixture of pain and pleasure, unable to distinguish the one from the other, but you knew it felt extremely good.

Zhongli was silent for a while as he lapped on the bitemarks he had made. He was glad that he hadn’t bit too hard, but for some reason, he also liked how you were marked as his.

“Allow me to take you to the bedroom,” he whispered to you as you nodded your head groggily. Sleep was beginning to approach you fast.

Unsheathing himself from you, you winced at the sudden feeling of emptiness. But it was immediately remedied by the feeling of his warm body near you as he carried you to your shared bedroom. Slowly, he laid you down on the soft mattress and eventually joined you there, embracing you from the back.

“Let’s rest for now,” he muttered right before your eyelids fell heavy. “We’ll need it for later.”

And he was right.

For the next few days, the two of you tainted every room inside the house (well, except for Yuqing’s bedroom).

From the kitchen where Zhongli fucked you from behind, bending you on the counter as he emptied himself inside of you—to the bathroom where cleaning up turned into another round where he slowly entered you while underwater—or on the floor, which was only because you couldn’t reach the bed because he was too horny for his own good.

It was only then, as the both of you rested from the last round which took all night and early morning, that you realized how much time had passed.

“Mama! Papa! I’m back!”

Your eyes shot open, and glanced at Zhongli who was staring at you as well.

“Oh no.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #nsfvv #schlongli

3K notes · View notes

spacedikut · 3 years

Text

exam help ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a self-indulgent blurb about spencer helping with exams :) 1.7k

a/n: first fic of the year :D happy 2021!

masterlist

Another anguish-filled screech reverberates from your and Spencer’s shared office, bringing even your pet fish in the tank to attention.

It’s the third one this hour. Spencer tries to ignore it, just like you told him to, but God you sound like you’re in pain and Spencer can’t exactly ignore that, can he? He loves you and cares for you and- oh. A thump reaches his ears. A textbook, maybe? Did you punch your textbook?

He considers for a moment that the neighbours will be alarmed, perhaps call the police or tentatively knock with a, “Is everything okay in there?”

It wouldn’t be the first time.

What would he tell them? Oh, my apologies, my partner has exams coming up and just told me they get why unsubs do that now. I am also terrified.

There are many instances where Spencer feels useless. During his job, when his mother would have an episode, when his friends have problems he just wouldn’t understand. But, somehow, and maybe controversially, this is the worst type of uselessness. The type that leaves him staring at the wall, questioning everything, the type that makes his stomach drop because all he can do is watch.

He’s been watching you for the last two weeks. He’s sick of watching, of being no help, and he needs to do something before he breaks and does something illegal.

(The illegal thing is doing your exams for you - not illegal as in, perhaps, murder)

Your frazzled head pops out from the office, one hand rubbing your eyes and a permanent frown etched on your face, and with a fragile voice you ask, “Can you make me a coffee, please?”

Now, Spencer feels hypocritical, but he has to say it. “Another? Are you sure?”

He sees the internal battle within you, how you try your hardest not to snap. It’s not his fault you’re stressed. He’s just trying to help. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, Spence,”

“Of course. I’ll bring it in.”

“Thank you.” With a pained smile, you’re gone again into the dark abyss of where you’re studying.

With quick, ingrained movements, Spencer makes your coffee with too much creamer and marshmallows. Unusual, yes, but your current diet consists of coffee and whatever he can force you to consume – like marshmallows.

But then, hello, he spots a chocolate bar haphazardly close to the bin, grabs it, and hopes you let him watch you eat it.

Stepping into the room as quietly as possible, he’s smacked in the face by the smell of lavender. It makes him nauseous, the intensity of it, quickly followed by a lurch of his heart because you poor thing, you’re being crushed by the weight of your degree – literally. The other day you purchased an insanely heavy weighted blanket and you’re drowning in it.

Now, if you were to ask Spencer who the most beautiful person on the planet is, he’d say you in a heartbeat. He’s thought that since you first met and, years later, still stands by that. But now, right now, glowering at him in the dimly lit, lavender drenched study that you used to love oh-so-much? You have the face of a French bulldog, all grumpy and furrowed and too many creases on your face to make Spencer feel like he’s actually helping when he places the coffee and snack on your desk.

Despite the crabby expression, your words are filled with love and appreciation – which happens to be Spencer’s favourite mix. “Thank you, my love.” You take a sip of the coffee, hum in delight, and for the first time in days there’s a spark of something other than torment. “You’re the best.”

Spencer’s hand holds the back of your neck and he places a series of soft kisses to your temple, mumbling, “I love you. Very much. Is there anything else you need?”

“Death.”

“Okay. I’ll work on it.”

At that, you grace Spencer with a weak half-smile. It’s enough to overwhelm Spencer, overflowing and only able to be shown through a chaste, encouraging peck on your lips and a half-hug, Spencer bent at the waist to hold you in your desk chair. He noses your hair, hoping his closeness will alleviate some stress, before stepping back and praying his eyes tell you everything he wants to say but know will elicit annoyance from you.

I love you. Take care of yourself. Rest, please. You can do this, but not if you over exert yourself. I love you.

Your eyes tell him, I’ll try. I love you. And that’s all he can ask for.

But when he leaves, shuffles past his bookshelf, his eyes catch sight of an old file that reminds him of when he was preparing for his own exams.

He gets an idea.

+++

It takes another two days, full of late nights involving work that isn’t staying up and distracting himself with books to avoid worrying over you and how late you go to sleep, and reading that leaves Spencer in awe of you and everyone in your field.

A part of him is amazed by how he wheelbarrowed the resources behind you without you noticing, another is worried about that fact, and the rest of him is excited that he can finally do something that will actually help. At least, he hopes.

(When everything is said and done, despite being endlessly grateful, you also inform Spencer that simply being there and being him and getting you coffee every time you ask is more than enough, really)

With pride, he leans back on the couch, observing his creations on the coffee table. There’s plenty of different colours, all representing a different topic, and he presses the thumbs up to like the Youtube video he was using to ensure his handwriting is easy to read.

Flashcards. Hundreds, if Spencer counted correctly. The textbooks he stole – borrowed – from under your nose lie next to his feet, the weight of them combined more of a workout than he’s (voluntarily) done in eons.

He only hopes you don’t think it’s too late, think he’s overstepping or-or that he’s doing those things that he’s been accused of before – thinking he knows best (he does, but whatever), overbearing arrogance, an unwillingness to hear and accept other people’s way of doing things.

He just wants to help. He wants you to know he’s here for you, no matter what you need. This is the thing that lets him believe he’s doing something, something good and useful. Spencer just wants to be useful.

He’s convinced you to eat a proper breakfast – fruit, oats, bread, meat, a whole buffet – and you sense something is amiss when you hear slow, tentative footsteps creeping from your bedroom.

Spencer, still in his pyjamas, glasses perched on his nose, approaches with a shallow box in his grasp. You swallow your bite, turn to face him. “What’ve you got there?”

The box is slid onto the counter next to your plate hesitantly, as if he regrets his actions as he’s doing them. Peering in, you see a blur of colour, stacks on stacks of rectangular paper filled with writing and questions and even a tips! section.

You pick up the first batch, all light blue, and flick through them, heart getting bigger and bigger with every word you read. And when you realise what they are, what Spencer’s done – for you – your heartrate has skyrocketed and the watch on your wrist is asking you if you’re okay.

“You made me flashcards?” You ask, in awe, again looking at the love of your life to find he’s already staring at you.

“I did,” He tells you, apprehensive and scared, already backtracking, “But, if you don’t think they’re useful, or-or you think I’m overstepping – I’m not trying to, I promise, I just thought…” He starts nervously shuffling and reshuffling some of his creation. “Flashcards are known to engage active recall and metacognition. Research consistently finds that applying metacognitive strategies tends to ingrain memories deeper into your knowledge, and that this kind of active recall retrieval practice leads to one-hundred and fifty percent better retention than passive studying, so…”

Your hands have a mind of their own, pulling what feels like an endless amount of cards out and turning them in your hands, from the questions on the front to the answers on the back, the ones with hints and advice and there’s several with doodles that are so Spencer you hold them to your chest. You’re so enamoured by this man that is still rambling and bumbling because he takes your silence as distaste.

“I just- I hate seeing you so stressed, so I made these. You don’t have to use them, of course. They’re not even that great. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable, you’re beyond capable, or that your methods don’t work- Just, personally, I love flashcards. I used them all the time when studying, even though I didn’t really need them, so perhaps a change of medium would do you good-“

A warm hand on his own that keep fidgeting stops him mid-stream of consciousness.

“Thank you,” You say, earnestly, “Really. These are lovely.” You leap from your seat, wrapping Spencer in warmth and love and care, and he shivers when he feels your hot breath on his ear when you repeat your thanks again and again.

When he pulls you even closer, so your torso curves into his own, you feel the lightest you have in weeks. You’re in the arms of the man you love, who knows you love him too and you know loves you so much – enough to spend several nights reading your cursed textbooks so he could create something that might help – and now you’re confident that you can do it. With the help of Spencer and his lovingly hand-made flashcards, you can do it.

And if, somehow, it goes awry, that’s okay too. Because you’ll still have Spencer, your number one fan, who will be there to comfort you and advise you in any way he can. He’ll never let you doubt yourself, never allow a self-deprecating joke if he can help it, because if he has to, he’ll love and support you enough for the both of you until you can do it yourself.

The world feels a little brighter, your breaths feel a little lighter, all because of Spencer. So you kiss him, murmur love against his lips, and get ready to take on whatever dares to come your way.

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @ogmilkis @chiffonchronicles @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @wheeledup @shadyladyperfection @joodeduarte @calm-and-doctor @

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #mine #the end is super cheesy but #eeeeeeeeeeeeee

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theartofdreaming1 · 3 years

Photo

Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.”

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been!

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. - Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

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writingindulgence · 3 years

Text

Painting Nails with Gojo Satoru (x reader)

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x (unspecified-gender) reader

Genre: Good friends with some mutual pining, a bit of fluff and a bit of uncertainty, reader has their mind in the gutter for a split second

Lmao, how long can someone write about painting nails T.T 2800+ words

When you recently mentioned that you had no free time to refresh your nails due to the influx of odd jobs here and there, you didn’t think that it would lead to your long time friend, Gojo Satoru, sneaking into your room at the Tech with a bag full of nail polish.

He was in the middle of laying them out haphazardly onto the coffee table. Colours ranging from neon bright to the darkest of shades stood before your very own eyes on full display. Their shapes were as varied as the palette. Standard round, rectangle shapes, funky stars and fragile butterflies just to name a few.

The shock of what was transpiring had yet to register in your mind, a dumbfounded look creeping onto your face.

It wasn’t even the first time that this has occurred. Once in a while you would come back from a mission in another city, ready to fall down onto your bed in the one place that you could call home, only to have this excuse for a friend barge in on your time of relaxation. Sometimes, you didn’t inform anyone when you would be back in the hopes of being left alone but he always seemed to find out the best time to annoy you. When you were tired.

“What the actual fuck are you doing in my room Gojo-san?”, you drop your tattered bag onto the ground before closing the door.

The feeling of his incoming whines and guaranteed pout had become something of a sixth sense to you now. You thought that maybe he would grow out of it after his teenage years but the gods weren’t as merciful as you once believed them to be.

“(Y/n)-channnn, why are you so mean to me? I haven’t done anything for you to call me that”, he dramatically groaned out before flopping onto your bed.

Glancing at the table, you notice that his sudden movement knocked over some of the bottles.

You also know what he meant by that. You only ever call him ‘Gojo-san’ when he screws up or when you are both in the presence of his students.

As much as he likes to tease you in front of important people, you aren’t that unprofessional as to disrespect him as an educator in front of the students that he teaches. The kids already make fun of him and if you were to join in at the same time then you would begin pitying the man.

You walk over to the sprawled lamp post of a human and indicate with your hand to scoot over before proceeding to throw yourself down beside him.

“What is this about, Toru-kun?”, your eyes lazily scan over the nail polish. Of course you know what is going on but Gojo Satoru is a man that enjoys being humoured.

Poor Ijichi-kun ends up as the victim of a lot of his whims when you’re away. Scratch that, even when you are around the unfortunate fellow gets bullied like a kindergartner at a playground.

“So~ I’ve noticed that your nails-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“.. have been looking rather-,”

“I mentioned it.”

“..duller than usual so-”,

“I-”,

His body flew up from the lying position and a hand suddenly came into your view. Before you could do anything, Gojo clamped it over your mouth, an unseen eye-roll definitely going off under his blindfold.

He wasn’t really irritated but you took it as a win for all the times he irked you in the past month.

“I NOTICED YOUR NAILS LOOKING DULLER THAN USUAL SO I WENT OUT OF MY HUMBLE WAY TO BUY THESE,” he finally lets you go after finishing what he wanted to say.

The sheets under you have become disheveled, your thrashing around to get away and shut his loud mouth in case Principal Yaga hears brought about no results. There was no rule against being in the same room, you weren’t some silly teenagers and even if you were, the Tech wasn’t that strict anyway, but the thought of his disappointing gaze burning into your soul…

Your thoughts are disrupted when Gojo throws two pillows onto the floor. Knowing that there is no escaping this, you dust down your clothes and gracefully sit down.

Who knows? This may actually turn out to be relaxing. Even if you’re wrong then spending time with friends is precious, no matter the activity. Especially in this line of work. There is no telling when one might hear the news of their comrades’ death.

Gojo sits on the other free pillow and smiles. “Any colour pulling you in? If not then I would love to recommend, you know, I’m sort of an expert at this.”

You laugh slightly at his confidence before agreeing to his proposal. As long as it’s not too ugly then you really don’t mind what he ends up picking.

In fact, you trust his judgement when it comes to fashion. His casual outfits always end up taking your breath away. You’re forever glad when he forces you to go along with him to the shopping district. You know your style and what you’re comfortable with but Gojo presents you with something unique every time.

“Hmmmm...then, what about this one?”, the hand that was under his chin as he was contemplating leaves its position and he quickly picks up a (f/c) nail polish.

The container is cute too, a glass cat face. Though how did he figure out what colour this was with that blindfold? Only Gojo knows.

You reach out for the item but he leans back and pulls it to his chest. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n)...,” he creates an X with his arms before continuing, “Bzzzt! Did you really think I would be so rude as to leave you alone with that tedious job? Who do you take me for?”.

He grasps the fabric where his heart is located and fakely sniffles. Oh, so he wants to paint them for you. Figuring out that you may as well indulge in a little care, you extend your hand for him to hold.

Gojo twists the nail brush open and dips it into the bottle a few times. His tongue is poking out as he tests how much of the liquid is on the brush. You don’t even question how he will paint your nails without seeing properly. Understanding his infinite capabilities has become second nature to you.

Instead, you focus on the feeling of his hand when it grasps yours.

It’s bigger and somewhat rougher, though not uncomfortable. Really, it feels secure to have around your own.

Jerking back at your line of thinking, you can feel the heat growing on your face by the second. Calm down there, no need to get ahead of yourself. You’ve held hands many times in the city before so that you don’t get ‘lost’, how is this any different?

“Hey now!,” Gojo grips your hand more firmly than before.

“Sorry, sorry. I had an itch,” you come up with an excuse and double down when you scratch your shoulder with a free hand.

He doesn’t say anything in return, there are none of his usual comebacks. That’s suspicious, he always needs to have the last word in no matter what.

Instead he applies the first stroke of nail polish on one of your nails.

His movements are steady, no shaking, and he doesn’t miss any spots. The process is...pleasant, being attended to by another.

He moves on to your second finger, repeating the action from the previous one, applying just as much attention.

Now that you are sitting still, barely breathing as you look on, his hold has become almost airy. Unless you focused purely on the skin to skin contact, it was as if your hand was levitating.

Ah, technically he could be using ‘Infinity’ and keeping your hand away but...it made you feel weirdly unhappy. Your mouth tugged down in dissatisfaction unconsciously.

At the same moment, Gojo grasped the next finger on the list, the sudden feeling coming as a surprise. You barely held in the shocked gasp, tingles travelling up your arm.

He didn’t say anything and continued the procedure.

You peeked at his face to see if you could read him but there was nothing at all to go off on. No smile, smirk, pout or frown.

Sheer concentration.

It wasn’t unwelcome, in fact it was peaceful without the usual banter. And it wasn’t unbearably serious either. If you had to put a word on it then it felt...intimate.‘Wow, what the hell? Chill, he’s only a friend and this is simple nail painting’.

The clock in your room ticked continuously until eventually your fingernails were all finished. It took extra long because Gojo insisted that the proper way to do it was to paint two layers. So in the end you had to sit through another few minutes that honestly felt like an eternity.

You hoped that you hadn't sweated with how warm it had gotten on your end.

“Alright! It’s your turn (Y/n)-chan,” he made finger guns and pointed them at your bewildered expression.

“It isn’t fair if only you get this spa worthy treatment, no?”.

“Satoru, I think you overestimate my ability to paint nails. Of course, I do a fantastic job on myself but I am hopeless when it comes to others,” you explain.

You may have over exaggerated a bit but if this goes on then your thoughts will enter dangerous territory, not that they haven’t already.

Distractions aren’t helpful when you are a jujutsu sorcerer, particularly in the romantic scene.

Have you daydreamed about such scenarios? Yes.

Would you like to experience them? Definitely.

However, what you want and what you can have are at odds with each other.

“Don’t be a bore, come on, come on,” he sticks out his own hand before thinking up something and reaching towards his blindfold. “Let’s make it a challenge. I had such a difficult time so you have to suffer too”.

He frees his eyesight and stands up. You’re about to follow but he shakes his head and kneels behind you.

The smooth fabric covers your eyes and the pressure as he tightens the blindfold rubs against the back of your head. This feels like the beginning of a dirty situation-

A resounding smack travels in the enclosed room as you slap your cheeks simultaneously. This isn’t the time nor place.

“I’m accepting my resolve,” you throw out before Gojo can ask you why you hit yourself in the face.

You hear him shuffle back to the pillow as well as glass tapping against glass. A nail polish bottle is shoved into your unprepared self. “I’m in your hands now,” he laughs stupidly to himself at his own pun. You can’t help cracking a small smile too.

Blindly, you fiddle around in front of you, wanting to start this. Clicking your tongue, you’re about to give out but Gojo finally decides to stop being a prick and gives you his hand. His shakes from laughter make themselves known but you ignore him.

Unscrewing the bottle cap, you get to work.

Only, you have to feel around for his fingernail. It’s impossible to hit the target without searching around first.

You become overwhelmingly aware of the close proximity yet again and your heart skips a beat. The fact that you can’t see anything makes it far worse as your sense of touch becomes more sensitive. Your shaking hand dabs the point where you think the nail polish goes and you begin painting.

Gojo’s amusement must have stopped too since you don’t hear him chuckling anymore. Is he looking at you? Or is he looking at his poor skin whenever you miss the fingernail? He doesn’t have his blindfold on so his eyes have to be focused on something.

But what?

The silence becomes unmanageable and the constant skin against skin friction twists your insides. Is it just you? Or does he also think the same way?

“You know, you have pretty eyes. If you start an Instagram page with photos of them then you’ll get a following in no time,” you offhandedly mention to start a conversation. Knowing Gojo he’ll take the compliment, tease you a bit and move on. You shift around in the pillow before progressing onto the other hand, having speedrun the first, before he starts talking.

“That’s not a bad idea. You can do the eyeshadow and we can make some money,” he hums in agreement. The sound of extra cash nearly makes you drool but then a realisation hits you, like a truck an isekai protagonist. If you were to do the eyeshadow then you will no doubt have to be very close to his face. No way.

“On second thought, I don’t think we have the time,” you laugh it off.

His disagreement comes soon after.

“Haaaaaaah?! Then why did you mention it?”. His muscles tense, about to pull back to cross his arms but he remembers that you’re in the middle of painting his nails.

After that, you both fall silent again.

In the end, you get through the last finger and close the nail polish bottle. You tried your best, having taken your time despite it making you feel a certain way whenever you had to touch him longer than is necessary.

You get up and reach out to unhook the blindfold but larger hands stop you in your tracks from behind. They pull yours away and drop them at your sides.

“Allow the amazing gentleman, Gojo Satoru,” he gently takes it off as you stand unmoving.

When light from the window hits your face, you scrunch your eyelids shut, waiting to adjust to the bright atmosphere. A hand patting down your hair makes them shoot open and you turn around to complain.

Whatever you were going to say gets caught in your throat as you look up into his light blue eyes. His expression is serene, free of any worries but his eyes seem to be trying to speak a thousand words.

They too look composed but you get the feeling that he’s trying to communicate something to you.

Swallowing, you clench your hand (conscious of the recently dry nail polish), and place it over your chest. “Satoru..um,” you pause, not fully comprehending what you want to say, or rather, how you want to say it.

Your eyes widen when you notice his hand traveling towards yours.

Clumsily spinning around, you head for the pillows and shake off the dust that accumulated on them.

“Thanks for today. I’ll have a nap, since I’m still tired from the flight.”

You show your gratitude but hide the words your heart wanted to really express.

You don’t turn around to see his expression. The sound of his blindfold going over his eyes is what you hear first. Then,

“Don’t worry your sleepy head over it! Sweet dreams, (Y/n)”.

The door opens and closes gently behind you.

Once you’re sure that he is far down the hallway, you throw yourself onto your bed, put the pillow over your face and scream. Feeling a little foolish, you stop and look over your nails.

He really did a great job.

-Next Day-

The sun is shining brightly therefore there is no better time to take a walk. Which is why you aren’t surprised when you stumble upon Sukuna’s vessel, Itadori Yuuji.

The teenager has a tub of ice cream with him. Maybe you should get some too? Gojo is bound to have some in his mini freezer.

“Ah! Hello, (L/n)-san,” the boy waves his hand in greeting and jogs over.

“Itadori-kun, is it alright for you to be outside like this?,” you ask with concern.

There are only a few people that know about his current state of being alive. When you heard that he died, you came as fast as possible to comfort Gojo.

“It’s fine! Everyone is gone and Ijichi-san is on the lookout at the front gate. He’s meant to give me a ring you see”. He looks down.

“Oh! You’ve got some nice nails there,” he points out as he takes a bite out of the dessert. “You match with Gojo-sensei,” he adds after a second.

You pause your appreciative smile at his compliment. Excuse me?

“Excuse me? Match?,” you prod him to elaborate.

The teenager scratches his cheek.

“Ehh, but he said the plan was to match all along. Though they don't exactly look the same”.

Your eyes tear up in embarrassment at the turn of events. You’re matching nails? You thought for definite that he would wash them off when he gets back to his room. Not only that but putting the blindfold over your eyes must have been his sly way of making sure that you don't notice they're the same colour.

Itadori shakes his hands in front of him before bowing. “I-I’m sorry (L/n)-san! I did not mean to insult the way you painted Gojo-sensei’s nails. They are a bit tactless compared to yours but that’s okay,” he apologises profusely, mistaking the root of your shame.

‘That dumbass Gojo Satoru’

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #I like hands duh but if i went into more detail i would get high blood pressure

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flooffybits · 4 years

Text

What About Us?

Idol: Jennie Kim (Blackpink)

Anon: hii! can i request a jennie scenario wherein she read a lot of comments/tweets about her fem s/o about how her s/o is only using her for her money/fame and bc of that she kind of believed it and grew distant and her s/o overhears her calling her a gold digger in front of the other members while they were hanging out and s/o gets hurt and just leaves and try to give back all jennie's gifts or something like that? angst with fluffy ending pls!! i love your scenarios always!!

Author’s note: I went too angsty with this and I had no idea how to make it fluffy, but it doesn’t end too sadly hopefully

pretty sure she doesnt even care about jennie

shes obviously dating jennie because shes in blackpink

such a fake

Jennie’s frown deepened when she saw the many malicious comments online. Of course, she’s used to people sending her hate and having rumors spread about her. But this time around, the hate was not directed at her, but rather her girlfriend.

It’s been half a year since she’s come out to the public and introduced you to the world, and even with the various support she’s gotten for having the courage of coming out, the backlash of it was the people attacking you with so many hurtful words.

Jennie knows you’re aware of them, but you’ve never spoken up about it that she wonders if you find them bothersome or not. It’s made her think.

Were you only with her because of her fame? Did you really love her?

Lately, she couldn’t help reading such comments. When she first introduced you to the public as her girlfriend, she kept watching, wanting her fans to be accepting towards you and having the same respect that they had for her. But the longer time passed, the more assumptions were thrown at you.

And your dismissive behavior did not help in easing her worries.

As a result, she’s been pulling herself back whenever the two of you were together, always eyeing you when you spent time with her and trying to notice the way you would react to her every time. Were you being sincere to her or not?

She hadn’t even realized how much she let the comments get to her head.

“I just don’t know.” She sighed once when she was with her members, eating breakfast. You were sound asleep in her bed when she left you, so she decided it was the best time she could talk to her friends about the mess that was going through her head.

She didn’t think talking to you about it would help her because obviously, she think, you’ll defend yourself.

Jisoo pursed her lips at her friend when she lowered her fork. “I don’t really think Y/n is like that.” She stated. “I mean, she’s been with you longer than the public knows. You haven’t had these thoughts before.” She added and Chaeyoung nodded. “She’s right. Y/n is a sweet girl.”

“Maybe when in public? You know that gold diggers pretend to be nice to get what they want.” Jennie reasoned and this time, Lisa cut in, a deep frown on her face. “Hey, that’s not fair. You’re not sure if she’s being genuine, but that doesn’t mean you should be calling Y/n unnie a gold digger.” She retorted, making Jennie sigh as she rubbed her temple.

“Then how am I going to tell? I can’t flat out ask her because that’s obviously too forward.” She huffs, unknowing of your presence lingering by the door.

You had woken up a little after Jennie left the bed. And in your tired state, you didn’t get up right away, only when your stomach grumbled. But as you neared the kitchen and heard more of the girls’ voices, your sleepiness began to evaporate and your heart started to crack when you heard the things your supposed girlfriend was saying about you.

The moment she had called you a gold digger, tears had already fallen from your eyes and you quickly but quietly left for her bedroom to collect your things. You switched out of the clothes Jennie had lent you the night prior, tossing them in the basket, and then slipping on your hoodie and jeans. When you had everything, you hurriedly left her a note on her nightstand, making up the excuse that something came up before silently leaving the dorm after making sure that all of the girls were still in the kitchen.

"Unnie, if you can't trust Y/n, then what's the point of being in a relationship with her?" Chaeyoung couldn't help but ask and Jennie quickly quieted down, staring at her plate. "If you're having thoughts like these, I don't think it's fair for you to be doubting her like this when she could possibly be with you without the thought of money or fame."

"Chaeyoung is right. Personally, I doubt she's ever really thought of doing that to you. She's been sweet and loving to you, we can see that when you're together." Jisoo frowned. "It's just sad that you're letting other people's opinions cloud your view of your own girlfriend."

That made Jennie wince as she dropped her head and just stare at her plate, no longer hungry when she realizes that her friends were right. You’ve been together for years, and yet she only began to doubt you because her fans refused to trust you.

She just couldn't seem to shake off the doubt that was implanted into her brain after all the things she's read for the past few weeks.

"In my opinion, break up." Lisa says sternly, pushing her chair back as she brought her empty plate to the sink. "If you don't trust her, there's no point in staying."

Chaeyoung sighed as she looked to her best friend. Of course, the younger girl was right and she understands why she's upset, but they had no right interfering with Jennie's relationship because it simply wasn't their business. The best they could do was listen and give her advice, the rest was for Jennie to deal with.

"I'll go talk to her." The blonde murmured, quietly exiting the kitchen and leaving the two older girls alone.

Jisoo eyed Jennie from across the table and kept her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wanted to help her friend. But she also wasn't very happy with the way she had quickly discarded all the struggles you went through together before this moment.

She was your friend, too, and it would be a lie if she said she didn't care for you as much as she did for her members.

"Why don't you get ready? We have a shoot in a few hours." She tells the younger girl and Jennie sits there for a few more minutes, contemplating if she was capable of looking at you after everything she's just said about you.

Eventually, she does go. Quietly, she heads to her room, wondering if you were still asleep since you haven't come out yet. But when she peeks inside, she's surprised to see no one there.

The bed is made, the clothes you used were put properly away and then everything else was as she left it except for the piece of paper that was left on her desk.

Upon further inspection, she recognizes your handwriting and furrows her brows at the message. It makes her suspicions grow, but at the same time, her stomach churns. She was unaware of you hearing her conversation with them, girls so she doesn’t give it too much thought, simply sending you a text to say you should text or call her when you were free before she proceeded to her closet and pick out her outfit for the day.

Jennie doesn't hear from you for the rest of the day, which confuses her.

You've always texted her throughout the day to see how she was doing, always asking her if she's eaten or drank enough water. So, now that you weren't checking up on her has thrown her off the loop.

It was already evening and she was checking her phone in case she missed a text or call, but found none.

Instead, when she arrives back with the girls, she's surprised to see you leaving her room, hands tucked in the pockets of your jacket with your head down.

Something about it sets her off, and without thinking, she scoffs at you while crossing her arms. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She asks you, and you're surprised to see that she's already home.

"So, you ignored me for the whole day because you had something "important" to do. And when I come, I find you trying to, what, steal from me?"

"Jennie." Jisoo calls warningly while Chaeyoung and Lisa looked worried when you refuse to look at them.

But Jennie didn't mean to say those things. In her fear of finding out that you were using her, her emotions blinded her and had forced the words out, her heart pounding against her rib cage before she's watching you finally bring your hand out of your pocket and show her the spare key she had given you for the dorms.

"I came to drop this off." You try to keep your tone even, but it's so soft and fragile that the worry in the girls worsened. Jennie's expression even softened, but the confusion set in at your words. "What?"

You lift your head and Lisa gasps when she sees the tear tracks and red eyes, a clear indication that you've been crying. But before any of them could say anything, you were already dropping the key on the table.

"I'm leaving. Don't worry, I didn't touch anything."

"Y/n-" Chaeyoung tried calling for you, but you only shook your head and walked to the door, but Jennie tailed after you, latching onto your hand right before you could leave.

But before she could say a word, you yanked your hand away, whirling around to glare at her despite the hot tears that were already cascading down your face. "Don't fucking touch me." You gritted out, pain laced in your voice as Jennie stared at you in disbelief.

"Y/n, what is your problem?" She snapped back, your attitude setting her off from being ignored the whole day, but instead of backing out like usual, you glared back at her. "You left without even a proper goodbye, ignored me the whole day, and suddenly you're in the dorm without telling anyone, then you have the audacity to be angry?"

At that, you scoff before stepping closer to her. "I have no reason to explain myself to you." You say while stubbornly wiping your face. "The only reason I wasn't replying to you was because I was looking and packing everything you own and then dropped them off here."

At your words, Jennie's anger vanished and she looked at a loss. Her things?

You stared at her for a while before shaking your head, defeat on your features as you step away once more. "I'm not gonna stick around with someone who'd rather believe what everyone says instead of trusting me and calling me a gold digger, where her friends were the ones who defended me behind my back. I'm done."

Her heart jumped to her throat when she realized that you'd heard what she said to the girls. With the sudden revelation, she isn't quite sure what she could tell you.

"I just... I thought-"

"That the people who don't know a damn thing about me were right? That the person who stuck up for you every single time would actually treat you like a fucking toy?" You guessed for her. "They're my fans!" She defends and you frown at her, seeing clearly just where she held you.

"Yeah. And what did that make us?"

You knew that some fans wouldn't accept the fact that Jennie was dating, much more a girl, but you didn't really think that she would choose them over you, especially like this.

"Forget it, Jennie. All of your things are in your room. Goodbye."

But Jennie wouldn't let you leave when she moved to shut the door just as you opened it. "Can we talk about this?" She pleaded, panic running through her veins despite her earlier anger.

"Talk about what? Jennie, you called me a fucking gold digger because your fans said so?" You shot at her. "Do you realize how that makes our relationship?"

“I’m sorry!” She yelled back, refusing to budge as she blocked your only exit. “I know that it was dumb of me, but please, let’s talk about it.” She tries again and you try so hard to fight your tears back with the inner turmoil that was inside of you.

You wanted her to be sorry, you wanted her to take back everything she’s said behind your back, but you know that once words were let go, there was no turning back. The damage was permanent and there was no changing that no matter how many times she apologized.

Yet your heart was so damn stubborn that you couldn’t outright deny her request. So, she saw that and used it to her advantage, no matter how wrong she knows it is.

Leading you back to her room, she had noticed that her members all disappeared to their own quarters and she just hopes that they can leave things to her. That is, if she can handle what’s about to happen.

Entering her room, she spots the two boxes at the foot of her bed and she inhales sharply, seeing the necklace she had given you for your first anniversary sitting at the top of them. Only now did she notice that you weren’t wearing it, knowing fully well that you never took it off once she gave it to you.

“Y/n, I know that this is messed up, but please just... we can work this out, I swear.” She starts and you stare at her in disbelief. “What can you do to make this work? What did I do to make you even think of me like that, Jennie?” You ask in a broken voice that makes her heart crack.

“You know me. I have not once asked you to spend a single dime on me or this relationship. I have never demanded that you get me gifts or to pay for me when we go out. You know that I argue with you on who pays the bill. So, why?”

For the first time in her life, Jennie didn’t know what to say. She was always so sure of herself and the things she wanted, but now, staring at you while you desperately tried to understand where things have gone wrong has rendered her speechless.

You stand, staring at each other, and your tears refuse to stop as you covered your face with your hands and let out a shaky breath. Jennie withers at the sight of you looking so weak, so vulnerable, because of her. So, she doesn’t hesitate as she steps forward to wrap her arms tightly around you.

“I know that I was wrong to believe them.” She mutters when she feels you weakly pushing against her, but she holds on tight, refusing to let you go. “I was just so clouded with what everyone was saying and I was scared of talking to you about this.” She closed her eyes when your pushing started to weaken. “You’re right. I made our relationship look like an absolute joke for trusting someone who isn’t you and you have every right to be pissed at me. But please, I’ll do my best to be better at this. I should have known better, and you deserve so much more than what I put you through.” She could feel her own tears start to fall, but she doesn’t bother them.

You’ve stopped resisting her and just let your hands grab a fistful of her shirt, sobbing into her chest. “Please, just give me one last chance. I promise, this won’t ever happen again.” She whispers and the room is only filled with your sobs.

You’re both on the floor when Jennie feels your legs giving out. She holds you because she knows that you’re in pieces.

“Why did you have to say it?” You cried into her chest and she kisses your head while frowning to herself. She shouldn’t have done it, but all she could do now was make up for it.

She’s ruined three years in a single moment. But she swears that she’ll spend the rest of her life making up for it, even when you move past this and maybe forget about it happening.

“I’m so sorry.”

#girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #blackpink #blackpink scenarios #blackpink imagines #blackpink jennie #jennie blackpink #bp jennie #jennie #jennie kim #jennie scenarios #jennie imagines

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kuronanox · 3 years

Text

Home is you - Ulquiorra Schiffer

"Hello? Hello~" (Your Name) sings shaking the pale man up from his sleep.

Opening his eyes slowly he blinked a few times looking at his surroundings. "Where am I? Why aren't I in los noches?"

"Jeez you creep! Don't go sleeping around the park like that! I know Japan is safe but I thought you were dead for a second." She says sighing in relief offering a hand.

Ulquiorra slaps her hand away and gets up realizing he wasn't in his uniform but some random t shirt and jeans.

"What have you done women?"

"Me?! I woke you up. That's what I did now, do you have someone you should be? It's getting late."

Looking around he couldn't sense any reistu, he couldn't bring his sword out or use cero. Till he remembered his fight with Ichigo. Ulquiorra remember dissolving into nothing.

"I-I don't understand." He stuttered, frustrated at the emotions he was feeling at the moment. He was lost, why was he here? Was he reborn a human? But why did he remember everything of his past life.

A salty tear slipped in his lips as he touched his face confused. "Is this the human emotion of feeling frustrated? Feeling hopeless? Powerless?"

"I'm sorry. Do you need a place to stay?" (Your Name) asks more sympathetically watching the man breakdown in front of her.

The walk to a capsule hotel was quiet, she was surprise he asked for help. "I paid for you. I hope you find your way after tonight." She tells him as he looks into nothing and says nothing before taking his leave.

(Your Name) watches his back and sighs. "Maybe he's homeless?"

Ulquiorra laid in the comfy bed lost in thoughts, what had happen to the war? To Ichigo? To Aizen?

Why did he have to be reincarnated as a weak human?

"So this is human emotions?" He says out loud looking at himself in the mirror. He examined his face, was he always this pale and fragile looking?

Pissed he hit the capsule and nothing broke.

He was weak now, weak in mind and powerless.

He didn't know how he was going to survive.

It had been a few days and (Your Name) walked around trying to find the man. She felt a attraction towards him, like she was suppose to help him. She had no luck the past few days trying to find him.

"You have to pay for that thief!" A sales man yelled shoving Ulquiorra out his store.

"I'll kill you stupid human." He says in a monotone voice and raised his finger to use cero but nothing came out.

"You need help man!" The sales man yelled walking away in disbelief as Ulquiorra stared at his finger.

(Your Name) sighed in relief and ran towards him. "Hey! It's you again. What are you doing?"

"Trying to survive." He plainly says walking away still wearing the same clothes she saw him in the day they met.

"How do you plan on surviving with no job?" She asks following him as he walked to random places and examining people. "You will help me find one."

"Me?!"

"As you can tell women I'm not like you humans."

Bewildered a bit she pinched her nose bridge and sighed. "That's what I get for helping a weirdo."

"What do I get if I help you?"

"My protection." He simply says, even though his powers were gone he still was skilled with hand to hand compact.

"Just don't do anything stupid." She says as he follows her.

It was a very interesting few months that passed by, she never understood a lot of things Ulquiorra did.

He lacked a lot of empathy and emotions. He questioned what people did and enjoyed examining strangers on the street. He didn't speak much either.

He also became her protector.

"What is this manga that people are so crazy about?" He asks her one day as they sat and ate breakfast.

"As an manga artist and author it's my job to make my books into a reality. It gives people a sense of escape of our miserable lives." She says shooing him away from her work.

"Humans are weird." He simply says watching the news as she rolled her eyes.

"You know you're a human too?" She states to him and sighs.

"I am now."

There was a silence as she looked at him. He was a bit odd at first. She had to teach how to read, write and proper manners. She never questioned him though.

"So what were you before then?"

"Espada. I was an Espada."

"Huh a what?" She asks a bit taken back and lost.

"I don't know how to be thankful." He then says changing the subject as she sits across from him.

His eyes were green and he did have weird green marks on his face. "I'm starting to believe this guy."

"It's okay. I understand." She tells him as he looks at her with no smile or anything. His face was blank, she couldn't read him.

She knew he was thankful when he learned how to pick up humanity. He would pick up food for them, clean the house and when the rare opportunity comes he would beat up any stalker fans she had.

"I don't know who you were before but I promise you I'm here to help."

It was a cold winter night as they came back from Christmas shopping and picking her up from work, Ulquiorra was holding the bags as she rambled on how work went that day.

Ulquiorra wouldn't admit it but he had grown fond of her after spending everyday together. At first he has no choice to. He had no money or no home but she provided everything for him.

He would find himself smiling softly but frown after realizing what he had done.

"How was your day?" She asks him with a smile as his eyes widen a bit.

"I read books." He answered as she nodded her head.

Ulquiorra never really left the house unless he needed to. She had to admit it was comforting coming home to someone every night.

"I bought you new ones. I hope you like that."

"I enjoy all the books you've bought me." He says looking forwards at the snowing street.

She gasp a bit as he looked a way a bit confused. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No I'm just happy. Happy your expressing your emotions more."

He didn't say anything afterwards as she entered the warm house and set the gifts under the tree.

"I'm going to get some rest." He says and leaves to his room.

Before she could ask if he ate she saw that he had food already made for her.

"He sure is a fast learner for not being human."

Ulquiorra escaped to his room and laid in bed. He really was growing emotions, the more he stayed here the more he felt every emotions.

The emotions of pain, loneliness, sadness.

Recently he didn't feel any of those he felt happy, safe, secure. Was this the human way of saying he was satisfied of his life right now.

He didn't know but he felt a comfort of having someone by him at times. Unlike los noches, he was alone and don't know how to talk to people.

(Your Name) gave him a sense of living again and he would try to fit in this world. There was no way he could change the past so he decided might as well live for the future.

It was weird for Ulquiorra to have these thoughts, it was a new thing to him.

Before he lived for nothing but killing.

"What did you do before becoming human?" She asks him one night as they watched a movie. Well she had to force him to watch it.

"Kill."

"Okay? More explanation."

"I was created to kill, that was my only purpose in life. My home had nothing but sand and a moon."

"What did you eat?"

"My people."

She wanted to not believe him but every word he said were straightforward and he never blinked once. He didn't tell lies to her. "Interesting. So what happen? Did you get eaten or die?"

"I lost in a battle and disappeared into dust and I woke up here."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" He asks curiously a bit taken back from her words.

"I don't know you don't seem happy here."

He blinked a few times and tried his best to smile but it didn't come along. "I am satisfied as you humans say."

She sighed in relief and sadly smiled. She never really given the thought of being somewhere new with no one and not being able to fit in.

"I realize how hard it must have been for you, when people call you strange and treat you like an outcast. It must have been hard."

Ulquiorra sits with his legs crossed and tilted his head giving it thought.

"I don't need anyone if I have you."

There was a mutual understanding between the two even though words of expression were rarely ever spoken.

"I'm really glad to have you." She answered back feeling the warmth of her cheeks turn pink.

"As I am too."

(Your Name) had gone to a late meeting with a few of her editors and seeing it was past midnight she didn't wanna wake ulquiorra up from sleep to walk her home.

She lived in a nice part of Tokyo but in a quiet area so people rarely ever walked on her road.

It was raining hard as she made cover underneath a store. Sighing she pulled her phone out and tried to speed dial Ulquiorra number before a loud rumbled hit the floor and she looked up to see a hollow.

At first she didn't wanna believe it but the thing was real and screaming walking towards her.

"(Your Name)."

"Ulquiorra- there's a, there's a monster charging towards me."

The phone line went dead as he rushed out to find her.

Running in the rain he spotted the hollow immediately. "Don't get any closer to her trash." He spoke as it roared.

Ulquiorra had lost all his powers but luckily he knew some move although none of it worked as he was easily slapped away as he hit the floor hard and he groaned.

"This human body is pathetic."

Watching the hollow grab (Your Name) he felt every emotion go through him. The pain, sadness, frustration. She was screaming as she reached out her hand to his.

He called out her name and whined in pain before blacking out.

"Ulquiorra!" She yelled to him but he didn't respond. Looking back at the hollow it open it's mouth to consume her as she shut her eyes a green light was glowing around her.

"I told you I would protect you." He says to her as she opened her eyes to see him in a white uniform and he was standing on air. STANDING ON AIR!

With one smack the hollow diminished into nothing as Ulquiorra settled her down safely on the road.

"You. You got your power back! How?"

Ulquiorra thought back about his fight and realized the same thing happen to Ichigo and he finally understood why he came back.

"Someone important to me is worth protecting." He reply's as she tears up and hugged him tightly as he gasped.

Sadly smiling to himself where no one could see him he embraced her back.

"Ulquiorra?" She asks him that same night as they sat on the roof top and he was still in gear. "Yes?"

"Does this mean you are leaving?"

He doesn't answer and looks down. He thinks back on how life was here in the human world. It was quite fun here. He didn't remember what he did back in the barren sand and dark night.

"No. Unless I have to."

She sighed in relief but still she knew he was different. "Just promise me, if you ever decide to leave... you will without telling me goodbye."

"I won't leave. I have no reason to go back." He plainly says looking up to the moon.

"You promise me? I can't imagine a life without you, the way you are eases me is comforting. Your the peace I needed in my chaotic mind."

He was lost for words, was this a human way for showing love?

"I to."

He wanted to say more. He liked her. Loved her. Even if he wouldn't admit it now, there was a warmth in him he had never felt before and the feeling of being needed was something he might have yearned for.

"I promise you, I'm only yours. Even if there's a obstacle between us there's way we can break it."

She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder as he stiffen a bit and then relaxed.

He was home. Home wasn't a place for him but someone that accepted him for who he was.

It was you.

(Author note: idk why he's such a hard character to write for me. I know he seemed oc but I put in some thought of how he would be as a human.)

#bleach #tite kubo #bleach x reader #bleach oneshots #bleach oneshot #bleach ulquiorra #ulquiorra cifer #ulquiora schiffer #bleach imagines #bleach imagine #ulquiorra

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sideblogformindtrash · 3 years

Note

C-could we see Haru’s view point of Orfeu getting Blue? 🥺👉👈

CW: Pet/slave whump; dehumanization; scars and mentions of past abuse;

…Master stormed into their home, in its child-like excitement. Except he seemed really worried this time, dolly eyes fully panicked. Haru barely had time to think. Master offered his hands and he took them.

“Haru dear” Haru stared, a bit concerned, as Master squeezed his hands “I, I, hm. So, I was at a bar, and there was this guy and he was being really annoying and he was playing cards, and he kept bragging about oh he is a famous photographer or some bullshit like that which I doubt a lot, and he said he had a ex-celebrity pet and it was really making me want to punch his face and I was going to do that but, instead, I was like ‘if you are so amazing and not a liar why don’t you bet the pet’ and he actually agreed and I didn’t think he would and I was like ‘sure then you can take all my money if I lose’ which was like, 2 bucks, but it doesn’t matter because you always win if you cheat. So yeah now he is bringing the other pet here and I want you to know that this doesn’t change anything between us and I love you and I have no clue what I’m going to do but I’ll figure it out I promis–

Sound of tires on the gravel. Haru barely had time to process what Master had said before he ran outside. He watched nervously from the window, as the car stopped. Someone brought a pet, a long chain attached to a collar. The pet was fighting a lot… Was it a mean pet? Those big angry scary ones that fought??

Breathe. Just breathe.

This, this was okay, right? There were lots of other slaves at the mansion and maybe Master wanted to have one more. It should be okay. None of the other had ever been so close to the Masters on his old house… maybe this was the same. He hoped they could talk to each other. He didn’t like when the other servants ignored him.

Anyway… the scene outside made him very nervous. It crouched down and waited until he heard movement inside, and slowly walked into the living room.

…He covered his mouth, a bit shocked. Master was holding a plush, with a really lost and somewhat blank expression. His arm was full with uneven bite marks. He saw Haru standing there and offered him a weak smile.

“It’s okay. Come here, Haru, darling. This is Blue”

Haru obeyed and kneeled besides Master, tugging his sleeve a bit. He wanted to look at the wounds, so he carefully pulled Master’s arm… A part of him was terrified. Would this make Master angry? Master had always been patient but Haru never did something as horrible as hurt master. But Master just offered him a smile,

“Blue, this is Haru. He is… He is… He is like you” … He could see how much Master struggled to say that. He wondered why. It was true. They were the same and Master was above them, even if Master Orfeu liked to say they were all the same.

The other pet lifted its head a bit… And seemed terrified. It was not a fighting pet. Haru looked nervously from him to Master… Was Master planning on a punishment now? He didn’t seem angry. Haru tapped at Masters arm, just to be sure.

“…It’s okay, darling. I’ll be okay. Blue was very scared”

…Master caressed his face. He leaned into the touch. Master wasn’t… angry. Master was very forgiving.

Still, Blue was so scared. He looked so afraid when it saw Haru... Maybe he had never been in a house with more than one pet.

Master seemed hesitant to approach, still as a stone, holding that old bunny plush. Haru looked from him to the pet, curious if he should approach… Master nodded almost imperceptivity.

The pet looked at Orfeu, but Master said nothing. So it took Haru’s hand.

…Blue’s hand was so small. So frail and crooked. And… And half the fingers were missing. Haru dry swallowed. Just what had he gone through? It was bad enough losing nails… so a whole finger… And… And… He noticed the scars on the pet’s face, as it sobbed, almost in hysterical. As gently as he could, he rubbed circles on the pet’s skin, hoping it could comfort him a bit.

“P-p-punish me Master” Blue said with big scared eyes “Please punish your stupid pet. It was, it was s-s-so bad…”

…It was weird to see someone else saying those things. It was proper behavior for a pet, Haru knew. But was… weird. He closed his eyes for a second… His last punishment was… Was from before Master Orfeu. Begging for one never worked.

“Haven’t you suffered enough, Blue?”

“M-M-m-master I-it b-b-behaved terribly…”

…So afraid. But Master had his gentle tone. Haru remembered when he arrived, how hard it was to see through the glassy eyes of Master. How difficult to be calm when everything seemed like a threat.

He wanted to tell Blue that it was okay. That he wasn’t on trouble! But he had no voice… Breathe. How else could he say this? Petting his head maybe? Pets where for good boys, so maybe Blue would understand.

…He entangled his fingers on the pets hair. It got startled at first, but leaned into the touch. It felt… so weird to do that to someone, instead of being the one petted. But also, it felt nice. It was nice to see how much comfort it seemed to offer at the other, as it looked fearfully at blue. He smiled. “It’s okay” he wanted to say.

…Master was smiling. He was happy with Haru too?

“…You were scared Blue. It’s a new situation, a new home and new people. It’s normal that you would be scared. Sometimes fear makes us do things like this. It’s alright.”

“B-b-but… it hurt M-master…”

…Blue seemed so fragile as if it would break at any second. He cleaned his tears, passing the thumb on the Pet’s cheek. He tried to avoid the… the scar. Haru wondered how it had happened. His master never hurt his face or throat.

“…You won’t do that again, will you?”

Haru bit his lip. What would happen if he did?

“NO! Never, Blue wants to be good, please…”

“Then it’s okay, I forgive you.”

…So he would be punished if he did that again? What if Haru was the one doing it? Not that he planned to, he would never ever hurt his Master.

…The pet’s head fell limp, as if it had given in sustaining his own weight. It melted over Haru’s knees, as it clutched the bunny plush.

“Bonnie is… Is good”

“She is…” Master says “You are too, Blue”

“N-no…” It nuzzled, leaning more into the touch. Haru knew how precious kind touched were.

“Well, I think you are” Master offers him a smile “…And you are safe here, I promise. I hope you can start seeing here as your home soon.”

…Home.

…Blue fell asleep in his arms. He looked a bit shocked at Master… He scooped the frail man up and carried him to bed, tucking him in. It nuzzled at the plush. …Haru wondered if he could get a plush too.

Master looked at him and gesture for him to follow. He sat at the living room, seeming exhausted. He tapped by his side.

“Haru… Come here”

…He walked there obediently, a nervousness growing on the pit of his stomach.

“I’m… So sorry Haru. For throwing all of this at you so suddenly. How… How are you feeling?”

He scooped the notebook. How… was he feeling? A blank page… it was never a problem before. He… shrugged.

“I see…” Master pulled his hands closer, picking at his skin “Its… its okay. I know it’s a lot.”

‘Master still wants me?’

Master gave him the saddest smile.

“Haru, always” he reached a hand and Haru leaned into it “You are my family. And I told you before… You’ll have a home with me for a long as you want. This changes nothing between you and me, okay? You can always count on me for anything”

He smiled, and leaned closer, pulling Master’s around him.

‘What happened to Blue… for him to be-’ …He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. He never saw a pet in worse state before.

“I don’t know” Master closed its eye, closing his eyes for a moment “…I imagine he has been through a lot. What did you think of him?”

Haru stood in silence for a while. What should he say? He held his breathe. This was… a dangerous thought. Really dangerous, it meant he was thinking about things pets should never ever think… But… He… He didn’t think Master would punish him for it.

‘...Not even a pet should be treated like he was’

“…You are right” Master said

He dry swallowed. The next question was hard.

‘Will Master punish Blue if he bites again?’

“No” Master Orfeu said immediately “I only said that because I don’t think he would understand anything else. Not yet. And sweetheart… You and Blue being the same… I am too. Please don’t think any different from that.”

A moment of silence. He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to believe that but… It’s against everything he ever knew.

“Is it okay if he stays here, Haru?”

He doesn’t understand why would Master ask. That’s not for him to decide. Besides, Master told Blue this was his home too. Haru would never strip that away from anyone. He nodded and nuzzled at Masters chest.

“Thank you darling. And thank you for today. You helped him a lot, did you know?” Master sounded so lost, so sad “…I don’t think I would’ve managed without you”

…Haru smiled. He had been useful today? And… had he really helped? Both Master and Blue?

His heart felt warm.

#haru and orfeu #ask #haru is bae #tumblr is a bitch and wont let me put tags on asks

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madsthewordclown · 3 years

Text

Fire Lily | Pt. 12

warnings: none

a/n: Sorry this took me this long, guys! I’m back in school and am a little bit busier now, but I promise I’ll update as much as I can! Be warned that I did write a portion of this chapter with Can We Sing the Darkness to Light in my brain (it’s a choral piece and I’m a nerd lol) and so I probably found some of what I wrote a lot more emotionally compelling than it is due to my fragile state of mind when I hear a good tenor part. Whoops.

This chapter takes place during “The Headband.” The story kind of stalls for a bit here in the aftermath of Crossroads of Destiny, so I’m sorry about that, but I promise I’ve got some more exciting things planned for later!

Fire Lily Masterlist

The Fire Nation was weird. It was a thought that Y/N couldn’t get out of her head. Everywhere Y/N had been in the Earth Kingdom (besides Ba Sing Se, which was strange and creepy within its own right), had had the shadow of war looming over it constantly. Here, it was like it didn’t exist.

There was no fear in the Fire Nation, not like there was in the Earth Kingdom, and nothing like what Katara and Sokka had described about the Southern Water Tribe. Here, they weren’t constantly on alert. They could relax. Somehow, the Fire Nation had always been on the offensive. These people didn’t know what it was like, hearing about armies creeping closer to your home.

It was also strange to think about how Zuko lived there. The Fire Nation was his home. Y/N was letting herself think about Zuko now, every once in a while. She let herself think about Jet, too. She thought of him every time she picked up her swords to spar with Sokka. She thought of him every time she lit their fire at night.

They were staying in a cave outside of the village, and it gave Y/N the heebie-jeebies. She didn’t like how dark and damp it was, and it made her feel trapped. Toph felt right at home, surrounded on all sides by earth. Meanwhile, Sokka couldn’t get past the threat of “enemy birds.”

“They’re Fire Nation birds, guys,” Sokka insisted, waving his arms frantically to deter the birds in question.

“They’re birds, Sokka,” Katara corrected, rolling her eyes.

“So, this is how it’s going to be until the invasion.” Sokka looked around at their surroundings—the cave, some rocks, grass.

“Hiding in cave after cave after cave…” Y/N shuddered, glaring at the mouth of the cave.

“We don’t need to be cave people,” Katara said, putting a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “What we need is some new clothes.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed, “blending in is better than hiding out. We’ll be safer with Fire Nation disguises.”

As much as Y/N hated wearing Fire Nation clothes, she hated constant cave-living more. “I like that plan.”

“We don’t want to sit around and eat cave hoppers,” Toph said, hitting the cave wall. A few of the bugs came tumbling onto the ground, and Momo scooped one up and ate it with a chomp. Y/N winced. “They have much better food out there.”

“Well, where are we going to get clothes?” Sokka questioned, crossing his arms. “We don’t have nearly enough money.”

Y/N thought for a moment. “We could just steal some. I thought I saw some clotheslines when we flew in.”

The others stared at her for a moment.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” Y/N added, uncertainly. Yes, they were the “good guys,” but they also needed clothes, and no one had any better ideas.

“Okay,” Katara agreed quickly. “Let’s go.”

---

As it turned out, stealing had been very fun. Y/N wondered briefly if that made her a bad person, but she had managed to find a ribbon for her hair, and the feeling of having it away from her face made her question her morals a lot less.

Y/N did try her best to find something that wasn’t red, to no avail. Soon, they were all clad in their Fire Nation getup. It felt a lot better than the soldier’s uniform, but Y/N still wasn’t sold on the red. Sokka and Aang seemed to be enjoying themselves, though, and Aang seemed a lot less upset about covering up his arrow.

Y/N was very unsure about the sleeveless red top and dark grey pants that she was left with. But it was definitely better than her tattered dress, and the ensemble was easier to move in. She liked how her arms were completely free, and the long pants made the grass let scratchy.

Katara and Toph looked great in their outfits, although Katara did seem upset about having to remove her necklace, and Toph had already punched the soles out of her new shoes. They made the unanimous decision to go into town and get some shopping done with the money they had left.

“Here.” Y/N took her own money out of her bag, as well as the gold cup with her family crest. “We can all use this. I don’t really need it anymore.”

It was time to let go of the cup. It would be useful to them, at least. And there were plenty more heirlooms in her family. And now, standing side by side with the Avatar, two of the most powerful benders in the world, and Sokka, in his genius, Y/N felt more confident than ever that maybe she’d be able to make it back home. Her father could forgive her for getting rid of the cup. Her mother thought it was ugly, anyway.

“Are you sure?” Aang asked with some concern. Y/N nodded.

“It’ll be more useful to us if we trade it,” Y/N insisted. Besides, the cup was just another reminder of Ba Sing Se.

“Wait.” Katara stopped Y/N as the others turned to leave. “Your hair. The ponytail is too low. The Fire Nation has them higher.”

“Oh.” Y/N didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it. She pulled the deep red ribbon out of her hair.

“Here, let me help,” Katara said, pulling the ribbon from Y/N’s hands. Y/N was tall, so she had to crouch a bit, allowing Katara to secure her hair into a ponytail that sat towards the crown of her head.

“Better,” Katara hummed approvingly. She took Y/N’s hand. “Now let’s go.”

The village they were in was vibrant and peaceful, Y/N noticed. There were plenty of people around, and Y/N hadn’t seen any soldiers yet. The group decided it was safe to split up if they wanted to. Y/N followed Toph and Katara to a jewelry booth.

Y/N helped Katara pick out a new necklace, and Toph donned a small crown. Y/N was a bit surprised—Toph didn’t seem like the type to appreciate jewelry. Y/N bought a set of matching gold bangles to put on her wrists.

“You know,” Katara suggested as she secured the necklace around her throat, “we could get you something for your swords. I know Jet had something like that.” Katara’s voice caught on Jet’s name for just a moment before recovering.

It would very useful, Y/N knew. She could always bend, but she felt like Katara could tell she had mixed feelings about it. Plus, she knew more about wielding the swords than proper firebending.

After a lot of scouring, Toph managed to locate a store for weaponry. Y/N asked the shopkeeper for advice on what to look for. He had seemed confused for a moment, and Y/N remembered that hook swords probably weren’t a common choice here—she had read once in her library that they were a traditional weapon from the northern Earth Kingdom. But luckily, the shopkeeper hadn’t asked any questions and directed her to the right area.

Y/N ended up settling on a belt-like sheath, with two loops at her hips that the hooked points of the sword easily fit through, but it would get stuck at the handle, holding the swords securely but still allowing for Y/N to pull them out without much trouble.

“Six gold pieces,” the shopkeeper said in an unnecessarily loud voice. Y/N frowned. They only had a few silver pieces and the cup left, and Sokka and Aang had the rest of the money. Y/N pulled the cup out of her bag and set it on the counter.

“I’ll trade this for it.” The shopkeeper’s eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, eyeing the piece. It looked as if he thought it was fake; he picked it up and tapped it on the counter a few times.

“I’m from the colonies,” Y/N said. It wasn’t a complete lie. Technically, she was. The man gave her a brief look of disgust.

“It’s worth more than what you’re asking,” Y/N pressed, tapping a beat on the counter impatiently. She hoped he wouldn’t ask more questions or say anything about what his sour face was for.

“Deal,” the man said finally, taking the cup and stashing it behind the counter. Y/N felt surprisingly little as she watched it disappear from sight, and any wisps of sadness were expunged when she secured the belt around her waist.

Y/N walked back with Katara and Toph to their cave hideout. Sokka was already waiting, but Aang was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Y/N reassured. “There aren’t very many soldiers in this village, and his tattoos are covered.”

“Yeah, Twinkle Toes can handle himself,” Toph agreed, plopping down onto the grass.

“Hey, Y/N?” Sokka called, waving his arm. “Want to look over some of these plans with me?”

Before Y/N could respond, Katara was speaking. “You never ask me to help you with that stuff.”

“Hey,” Sokka protested. “You and Aang and Toph handle the bending, and Y/N and I will handle the plans. No offense, Y/N.”

“None taken.” Y/N knew her bending was almost useless—she could light their fire at night, but other than that she only knew a few basic moves. In a true bending fight, she was done for.

Y/N walked over to join Sokka, sitting on the grass in front of a rock that he was using as a makeshift table. Y/N was a bender, sure, but it was nice to have a non-bender around. Y/N wasn’t comfortable with her bending like the others, who were all masters of their own elements when she had never even had a formal teacher.

“I tried looking into that boiling rock you were talking about a bit more,” Sokka explained, spreading a map across the rock that he hadn’t shown her before. It was an older map of the Fire Nation—Y/N wasn’t sure where he got it.

“I couldn’t come up with much, but my guess is somewhere like that would probably be in one of the more volcanic regions of the Fire Nation.”

“But why would my brother be in the Fire Nation?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“What?” Sokka looked at her in confusion, an eyebrow raised. “You’re looking for your brother?”

“Um…” Y/N hummed awkwardly. “Yeah. He was arrested by the Fire Nation before I left home. I had a weird dream a few days ago, and he said something about a boiling rock.” She could tell Sokka was looking at her sympathetically, although she made a point to focus her eyes on the map.

“I know it’s a long shot,” Y/N acknowledged, “but I thought I’d at least try.”

“No, I totally get it,” Sokka shrugged. “You want him to be safe. I get that. He’s your brother.”

“I feel like it’s my fault,” Y/N admitted. “I didn’t help him. I actually made the situation worse.” Y/N gave a dry laugh. “I don’t know if he’d want to see me.”

“Of course he wants to see you.” Sokka looked affronted. “He’s your brother, and you’re supposed to take care of each other.”

“Yes,” Y/N groaned, “but I didn’t!”

“He’s your older brother, right?” Sokka clarified, his head echoing your nod in response.

“Well,” Sokka paused, as if searching for the right words, “as an older brother, I’m sure he wants to see you. And Y/N, I know it’s hard when you want to protect someone, and you fail.” Sokka’s eyes were filled with a sadness that made Y/N want to reach out and hug him, but she held off.

“But that doesn’t mean that that person is going to be angry at you,” Sokka continued carefully. Y/N felt like he was reassuring himself as much as he was her. “And even if you fail, you can keep doing everything you can to protect the people you care about. And I’m sure that he wants to do the same for you.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Y/N said softly, her eyes beginning to water. Before she could back away, Sokka was pulling her into a hug.

Y/N hugged him back. She realized she hadn’t hugged anyone since… well, before she left home. They stayed there for a moment, before Sokka pulled away.

“Ready to review my schedule?” Sokka asked, suddenly upbeat. He unrolled a scroll that spread all the way across the rock and down onto the grass.

“Oh my…” The entire thing was color-coded. Y/N wondered where he got the ink for that. “Hand me a pen.”

Sokka smiled as they went to work.

---

Aang returned to camp later in the afternoon and was properly lectured by Katara. Sokka was completely appalled.

“You’re enrolled in Fire Nation school?” Sokka asked for the tenth time. Aang’s answer didn’t change.

“Yes. And we learn about the secret river tomorrow!” Aang reminded them. The secret river was the only thing getting Sokka to moderately accept the idea. Y/N thought Sokka was too easily persuaded by weird sneak-attack opportunities. “But I can’t go back unless I bring my parents to meet with the headmaster right now.”

“Y/N can be a pretty convincing actress,” Toph suggested. “Not for me, since I can tell when you’re lying, but others seem pretty convinced.”

“Sokka, Y/N,” Aang pleaded, “will you pretend to be my parents?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed. If Aang really wanted to go to this school, she would help. She remembered how much she wished she could go to school. While it was still far from a normal experience… Aang deserved to have some fun like a regular kid.

“I don’t know,” Sokka murmured, looking contemplative.

“Secret river, Sokka!”

“Fine,” Sokka gave in. “But first we need to get our disguises!”

“Disguises?” Y/N echoed, but Sokka was already running off, Aang following enthusiastically behind him.

When Sokka and Aang returned, Y/N almost died from laughter. The beard plastered to Sokka’s face was ridiculous. She had no clue where he got it.

“Y/N, make your hair look more mature and put this in your shirt,” Sokka ordered, holding out a bundle of cloth fashioned into a smooth round shape. It looked like a bag stuff with wool.

“What?”

Sokka sighed exasperatedly. “Do you want to be convincing or not?”

“Fine.”

Y/N felt ridiculous and was pretty sure she looked almost as ridiculous as Sokka as Aang led them into the school building. Y/N noticed how everything inside seemed a little bit short, and portraits of Fire Lord Ozai hung on the walls, Fire Nation insignias everywhere. Y/N had never seen the Fire Lord’s face before until Aang had brought back his macaroni portrait.

Zuko didn’t look like him, Y/N noticed. Ozai’s face was sharp—Zuko’s was kinder. But Y/N found herself imagining Zuko on that poster, with his shaggy hair and scar, and that look on his face when he fired at the Avatar.

Y/N took a seat with Sokka and Aang as they entered the headmaster’s office. The headmaster was a severe-looking man with the same beard, sideburns, and thin mustache that all of the Fire Nation men Y/N had met seemed to have. He greeted them as they took their seats.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs…”

“Fire,” Sokka replied haughtily. His accent was atrocious. “Wang Fire.” Y/N held back a snort.

“And this is my wife,” Sokka gestured to Y/N, “Sapphire.”

It took everything in Y/N’s power to not roll her eyes. “Sapphire Fire. Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Mr. and Mrs.,” the headmaster paused, “Fire. Your son has been enrolled here for two days and is already causing problems. He’s argued with his history teacher, disrupted music class, and roughed up my star pupil.”

“That doesn’t sound like our Kuzon!” Y/N said, giving Aang a discrete bump of her elbow when he smiled.

“That’s what any mother would say, ma’am,” the headmaster responded. “Nonetheless, you’re forewarned. If we continue to have problems, I’ll have to send him to reform school.”

“Reform school?” Y/N asked.

“By that, I mean the coal mines.” The headmaster stood, glaring down at them.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Headmaster,” Sokka said. Y/N wanted to facepalm. “I’ll straighten this boy out something fierce!” Sokka turned to Aang. “Young man, when we get home, you’re in for the punishment of a lifetime!”

The headmaster seemed rather satisfied with that response, nodding with a slight smirk.

“Thank you for informing us of our son’s behavior,” Y/N told him, trying to sound professional to make up for Sokka’s over-the-top character. “Goodbye.”

“Success!” Sokka cheered as soon as they were out of earshot. Y/N punched his arm.

“Wang Fire?” Y/N questioned incredulously.

“What? It’s a good name!” Sokka whined, rubbing the spot on his arm.

“Sapphire Fire?” Aang added with a smirk.

“Okay, so maybe that one wasn’t my best,” Sokka admitted, stroking his beard.

“Will you please get rid of that thing?” Y/N already didn’t like how much Sokka was enjoying his fake facial hair.

“Never,” Sokka replied with a smile.

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami, @nadiblue. @la3divine, @sarsky, @aangsupremacy

#atla fanfic #atla #zuko x reader #eventual zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #the gaang #the gang #atla x reader #wang fire #sapphire fire #kuzon

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thatfilthyanimal · 3 years

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I really don't want to vent here but I also don't want to overload my friends so I'm just going to do it and suck it up, fuck it.

I feel pretty fucking horrible in a very deep way and I don't know how to talk to people about it. This started up around the beginning of April and I thought it was in relation to April just being generally rough on me because of how my dad died, but it hasn't let up yet. If anything, I feel worse. Way worse.

I'm guessing I need to raise the dosage of my medication and I'm actually really heartbroken about that in a way I don't know how to describe. How am I supposed to feel if shit is so horrible I have to take the highest possible dosage I can safely take of a medication? How am I supposed to feel calling up a psychiatrist I just told two months ago my dosage was stable and I was feeling great, to tell her "ha ha ha I high key hate life and want to die again, please, raise my shit so I can hold up the illusion that I'm not a fucking lost cause a little longer?"

So... some of the only stuff I'm really comfortable touching on here is the whole transphobia at the doctors, thing. After spending most of 2020 living at doctors because of unknown stomach pain and just trying not to fucking die from something during a global pandemic I'm at a loss now. Nobody ever figured out my pain issues, I've just changed around what I eat and it seems better... Sort of? But mostly my existence in general hurts because coming out as trans to my newer doctors has been... uncomfortable. Now it feels like every time they "ma'am" me or pointedly call me "a woman" or "female" in a phone call (where I'm specifically asking for help regarding getting on testosterone) I want to claw myself out of my own skin and bury myself deep in the ground where nobody ever has to see me again.

Literally all the shit that I was terrified of that kept me from admitting to myself I was trans this entire time is fucking real and-- I'm weak, I'm fucking weak and scared and tired because I've never needed so much help with something so desperately in my life and the ONE PLACE I should be able to get help from I'm... terrified of, now. I just want to cancel all my future appointments and just never leave my house again because what is the fucking point. I'll never look right and I'll never be taken seriously and my weight is always an issue some-fucking-how regardless of the actual problem, so just. Fuck. Why leave. Why go anywhere. Why try to take care of myself anymore just. why.

I knew this would happen if I came out, I knew admitting I was trans would be a challenge of my ability to continue to love myself and... you know, I do, I do love myself, and coming out has proven that more than anything, but the cost of that almost feels like it outweighs the euphoria of being myself.

But now I'm in that weird middle-state of my body and voice not "matching" my gender and nobody taking said gender seriously and. What do I do. I'm so terrified of this happening at another doctor's office that it hurts to try to reach out. Literally the nearest doctors that might help me are an hour and a half out in Chicagoland, if not Chicago proper. And things feel so uncomfortable here where I am that I may literally need to drive that hour and a half just for basic health care, not just the hormone therapy and. Like. It hurts.

If I had figured this out sooner while I was in Champaign, there was an endocrinologist there and the city was super LGBTQIA+ friendly and I'm kicking myself for not doing something before I moved three hours away. Getting help could have been maybe a 15 minute drive in my own city instead of an hour and a half into the heart of Chicago, which, btw, I fucking hate driving in because everyone out there drives like a crazy asshole.

Idk. I'm tired and I'm scared and worn down and I don't know how to ask for help. I tried with one of my local friends but, well, their life is busy and its always "oh I forgot to ask my friend about that place here that would help you, sorry, there's been so much going on" but. It's been months now. They were the one that suggested I reach out to said people about whatever place it is, and I don't want to be rude but also... are you going to help me? Because it sounds like my sorry ass is stuck going to Chicago in a global pandemic to get T and I'm really upset about it.

Like, if my friend can't even see it as important than I guess I just have to do everything alone. Just like I've had to with BPD.

This is getting way longer than I meant, and it's not even the worst thing just. I'm feeling vulnerable and isolated as hell and I need more support than I have and I'm too scared to ask for it. And most of the people I know can't do jack or shit about it because there's really nothing they can do, so like. Why ask them. Why tell them. Idk.

I'm talking to a therapist too, have been for months, and she's nice but she's not great for trans issues. She's supportive but it's not her specialty. Because I have borderline I have to kind of choose my battles when it comes to therapists... There are therapists that handle BPD and therapists that handle trans issues but my insurance doesn't cover one that specializes in both at once in this town. And BPD is super misunderstood-- the wrong therapist may admit me for just passive suicidal ideation not realizing it's a common and (generally non-life-threatening) part of BPD that doesn't hold real threat. Getting a therapist for trans issues that doesn't know how to read the weight of my depression/anxiety/suicidal thoughts and call them correctly is dangerous and... that's its own problem. I have to choose my battles here and it's really hurting me.

Like I really don't know what to do. Do I get a second therapist and risk that they may not understand BPD and may be overwhelmed and scared to work with me? God. I've never had two therapists at once and the thought is... idk. It hurts.

I just want to feel okay, and I don't. And I'm more tired and scared and feeling misunderstood than I've ever been and the idea of reaching for help is terrifying me. This feels like stuff I should only be unloading on a therapist, not my friends... my friends deserve better than that. But also I'm well aware of how my friendships will go if I start to use them to vent and seek help like this.

Idk. I wish I knew how to talk about everything that's wrong right now but I... can't. It sounds horrible and mean when I say it all and I don't want people to look at me like I'm fragile and someone to pity, but that seems to be my life and how people are going to view me. I basically exist as an example of what not to be. So. Idk. I'm tired and I want help but I'm scared to ask for it.

Past friends have taught me that if I seek help and cry to them that I'm a Problem that they need to distance from and. It hurts. There may be friends that do genuinely want me to come to them and I don't know how to try; the idea scares the shit out of me. Everyone I've ever opened up to (besides my partner) has eventually grown sick of me and I can't handle losing what support I have right now.

I need to hush cause this sounds blamey and I don't mean it that way. My life is just... highkey fucked and I'm trying to hold on and struggling about it.

I don't regret finally admitting to both myself and everyone else that I'm trans, but fuck, the weight of this level of medical rejection on top of the BPD feelings interfering with my ability to reach to friends for help just... it's so much. And I feel guilty complaining about it at all.

And every time I post something public about it I'm just giving people insight on why they should avoid me, or worse, exactly what they can do/say if they want to hurt me.

#personal #bpd #trans issues and dysphoria yayyy #suicidal ideation yaaaaaaaaay #come to filthy's brain where we have #sadness!#regret!#dread!#trust issues!#fear of abandonment!!#it's great it's fun and I'm definitely not typing tags to stall hitting the post button hoooo #shit

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a-mended-pact · 3 years

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Chapter : Seven

This chapter is Reader and Spencer finally discussing what's going on. It's a little angst but a semi happy ending.

Taglist is open. 🥰

Part 6

This one is definitely one of my favorite chapters I've written so far.

Word count: 3,121

I am currently experiencing heavy writers block so I would love to know your thoughts or theories!

If you have questions for the series please message or send an ask.

Requests are open

I ended up walking out of the room and I could feel myself shaking. I was infuriated. I had been so upset with everything that happened between Spencer and Cat that I couldn’t see straight. Maybe I was being overly emotional but to be fair I still haven’t slept yet. Spencer had followed me out but neither of us made it far before I saw Ethan sitting in the break room talking to Jj. I glanced at Spencer then back at him. ‘He deserves to be in a cell, not in our break room. You and I both know that.’ He sighed and nodded knowing damn well now was not the time to fully argue with me. My hands were sore. I needed a release from the stress of the past couple of days. I would much rather the endorphins get released by Spencer and I tangled within the sheets.

It had been sometime since Spencer and I had been intimate due to work and me just not being in the mood because of the recent changes in my medication. We hadn’t openly discussed what had been going on with us to anyone on the team. At least I didn't. I wanted to keep things to myself. I had always suffered with dark thoughts and bad coping mechanisms. It wasn’t until Spencer pointed it out when we started living together. That it wasn't pointed out to me. He had spoken to me about it as gently as possible because he understood it was a sensitive topic that could either make me sob or be deeply upset with him and push him away.

It luckily ended in me trusting his judgement and he set me up with a psychologist. Within a month of therapy they decided I needed meds for my issues. Mood stabilizers, Antidepressants and anxiety medication. It took a lot of trial and error for us to find the right ones that worked for me. I was lucky enough to have a person in my life to love me through the changes I had to experience during that time. I unfortunately suffered from a hazy mind. If I get too focused on something I tend to forget to take all of the above. Spencer always kept a track of when I took them. He’d message me when I needed to when we weren’t together no matter what.

Of course he couldn’t when he was kidnapped. So here I was having a hard time processing everything I needed to. ‘You need to go home and sleep, eat and take your medication my love.’ As he spoke he cupped my face and rubbed his thumb over my cheek. I couldn’t help but notice the way Ethan looked at me with envy from the other room when I wasn’t staring into Spencer’s golden irises. A part of me felt like Spencer was just trying to get rid of me but I also knew he needed to come home and rest too. I can’t imagine he actually got any while he was kidnapped even if he was presumably only with Ethan.

I grabbed his hand and held it to my face as I leaned into it. I didn’t care that I had to stretch out my freshly made wounds. If anything the pain was a nice distraction from the whirlwind my mind had become from the ticking of the hours that had gone by. ‘Please come home with me. Ethan will be taken care of and it’s not like the Kitten can get out of her cell. Please.’ His eyes softened as he heard me speak and he went to shake his head no until Emily spoke up from behind us.

‘Both of you are going home. Neither of you have a choice in the matter. Everyone here has gotten rest but you two. The rest of the team and I can handle this by ourselves for a little while. Go home you two.’ She spoke loud enough to cause a scene and I couldn’t help but wince as everyone stared. ‘She’s right you haven’t eaten a proper meal Y/L/N in days’ Rossi commented from the peanut gallery. I pulled Spencer’s hand away from my face and squeezed it tightly. I hated being called out by anyone that wasn’t him. He has learned how to do it without making me feel guilty over the past couple of years. Right now all I felt was guilt. Guilty over the fact that on top of worrying about Spencer they were worried about me as well. I was such a screw up I swear. ‘ I agree I think I saw you resting your eyes maybe 10 minutes before you headed to the vending machine for an energy drink because the coffee wasn’t working for you anymore.’ Luke commented as he brought me my cardigan that I had draped over my chair at my desk. I sighed as I looked at him.

‘Guys we are going. I promise.’ Spencer spoke as he began to pull my hand lightly to lead me away from everyone. ‘Don’t forget to put him in a holding cell.’ I said as I pointed at Ethan as his eyes never seemed to leave Spencer and I. I locked on to his gaze and followed his line of sight. Correction: it wasn’t on both of us. It was only on Spencer.

I squeezed his hand harder than I probably should have. I didn't care. Ethan was truly creeping me out at that moment. Why was he staring at my husband like a child that had their favorite comfort item taken from them as a punishment. Perhaps in a way that's what I was doing. I knew the moment he and I left they would treat him like an unsub as they should. He'd get no special treatment because Spencer wouldn't be around. I was giddy at the thought and let out a small laugh as I walked out of the building with him in tow.

-----------------

I felt a weight leave my chest when Y/n asked me to shower with her. I logically knew it was probably because she couldn't bring herself to actually wash her hair or even herself. I was just thrilled over the fact that once our front door was locked into place she didn't turn around and snap at me about what happened between Cat and I. I knew what I let happen bothered her greatly. We've spoken about it before many times. I knew this time though I had almost opened Pandora's box. Perhaps I had only placed the key into it instead.

Still pulling her into my arms as the hot water washed over us was enough to make me sob into her freshly washed hair. I never wanted her to doubt my love for her. Yet here I was showing attraction to two different people and that wasn't fair to her. Sure it hadn't been spoken about nor did she know about the relationship Ethan and I shared when we were much younger. She had a right to know. I knew that. I also knew now wasn't the time to mention it.

I felt her put her full weight into me as the water droplets rolled down her soft skin. She seemed so fragile. We seemed so fragile. Maybe I was overthinking. Maybe I was making up scenarios that would never come. Her hand inched up tracing the wound on my chest underneath it's bandage. I tried not to wince but no matter how gently she caressed it with her fingertips it still stung like it did when it was given to me mere days ago.

'I can't believe he did this to you.' Her voice was barely a whisper as if she too were afraid it would shatter the solace we found behind a mere shower curtain. I caught her hand in mine and placed it over my heart. I leaned in and kissed her as gently as I could muster. She returned it in kind but I could tell she had more to say. So of course I let her.

'He hurt you Spence and all you've done is protect him. I want to understand but I can't seem to wrap my head around why you'd protect a man that did such awful things to you.' As she spoke I remembered why I let him get away with it. It was simple. I couldn't remember who had actually hurt me. If it were him or Lindsey. I never coherently saw her. I only saw him and I felt like that was deliberately done.

'Sweetheart, do you trust me and my judgment on the matter?' As I spoke I pulled away from her to turn the water off and grab a towel wrapping her up in one first before I grabbed my own to dry myself off too. I watched in awe as she dried off and her breast jiggled as she did so. I had to turn my gaze away. Now was certainly not the time to be trying to bed my wife. I would be lying though if I said I didn't want to distract myself from everything that had happened these past few days.

Her and I both needed rest. She needed to eat first to take her medicine. That was top priority not my raging lust for her. 'I do. I just. I don't know there's things I don't know that I need to know before I make my final judgement on the situation. All I know is that my husband has been sexually touched, kidnapped and tortured in a matter of days and there was nothing I could do to change the outcome besides not walking out of the bureau when Cat touched you through your slacks!'

I could hear the frustration in her voice as she pulled on her panties and one of my t-shirts from college. I watched her as she quickly left the bathroom to head into the kitchen. I quickly slid on my gray sweats and rushed after her. I didn't like the idea of her being alone when she was angry and not in a great state of mind.

'I'm sorry.' I pulled her into me as she began to make herself toast. I placed a kiss on the junction between her neck and shoulder. 'I should have stopped the whole thing sooner. I just kept trying because I was certain if I did she'd slip up but she never did.'

By now I knew how Y/N's mind worked. 'Spencer you didn't stop her because you didn't want to. Whether you understand your attraction to her or not. You've always wanted to sleep with her. You yourself told me so when we were just friends. Don't start lying to me now about things' She pulled away from me and took the toast and her glass of water to the couch.

I realized then that she had actually made me some toast as well. I turned around to grab my own glass of water and her medicine. I sat beside her and sighed. 'Eat first then take your medicine. If you are feeling up to it I'll tell you before we go to bed tonight. Everything you need to know and probably things you'd rather not hear but as my wife and my best friend you have the right to know everything.'

She nodded as she bit into her food. Tears were silently streaming down her face already. I knew right now that it wasn't because of me. Not fully anyway she was just overwhelmed.

We ate in silence. I handed her; her pills and she took them without complaint. If anything she seemed rather numb to everything around her.

'Maybe telling you should wait.' I said as I pulled her to me. 'Thank you for not fighting with me about taking your medicine.' I kissed her cheek. 'I'm proud of you and how well you've held yourself together while I was gone.' She wasn't codependent on me per say but praise was always something I gave her. Especially after mom started to pick fights with me about her medication. Y/n was a walk in the park for me compared to her. She always felt bad that I needed to take care of her when she wasn't in her right state of mind.

To be honest though I love taking care of her. She was perfectly capable of doing anything and everything on her own but she trusted me enough to shut her brain off for a bit and let me take the reins for a few hours or even days. Right at this moment was one of those times. It's not like I didn't have days and times like her where I shut my mind off as well because I did and she would baby me and look after me like I am her at this very moment.

'I'd rather you tell me right now. I don't have the urge to fight or to do much of anything.' I nodded as I pulled her up with me and led her to the bed laying down with her and holding her from behind.

'First and foremost. I am in love with you with every fiber of my being. I don't ever want you to doubt that but I'll understand after I tell you everything if you do but I need you to always remember I will choose you without hesitation, without question.' She nodded after I was done. My fingers traced up and down her hand as I held her as close as possible.

'I'll always be your best friend first. Then your wife. That was something I told you on our wedding day and I plan to stick by that choice. I only ask that you stay remaining honest with me. I can't stand not knowing what's going on in your mind. As long as we stay honest with one another I know that we can make it through anything.' She pulled my hand up to her lips and kissed it and I couldn't help but sigh in relief. She was more than I deserved and I don't think anyone would ever understand how much I didn't deserve her.

'I'm not sure if it was Ethan that hurt me. I know he was the one to kidnap me but other than that I don't believe it was him. He would never hurt someon-' I stopped myself as I was searching for the right words. I could tell she was waiting with baited breath. 'Ethan would never hurt me like that would most likely be the proper word to say.'

She nodded 'You're holding back love. Just say what needs to be said. I can take it.'

I bit my lip and exhaled. 'Ethan wouldn't hurt me like that because he has been in love with me since college. We um.. he was- i-' I was struggling trying to form words. The past Ethan and I had together was a good one but he was also my first heartbreak.

'He was your first love huh? It's okay Spence we all have a past. Some of us just don't stay close to those from it.' As she spoke she rolled over to face me with a soft smile on her lips. 'Keep going. It's okay.' I know all of her wanted to cup my face but she restrained herself and just made due fiddling with my wedding band on my finger. Which is something she always did when we were having a deep conversation. I knew as long as she was playing with mine and not her own that we were okay.

`We were friends for a long time before him and I became intimate with one another. We always sorta stepped around the subject but one day after class he asked me out on a movie date. One thing led to another and I was in his room and we- we slept together.' She nodded again telling me to continue as her eyes stayed on her moving fingers.

I made a face. It's not the fact that I didn't want to tell her it was just the fact that I didn't know how.

'We dated all of college and then we separated when I joined the academy. I made it and he didn't. We grew apart. One thing led to another and I caught him in a very intimate position with someone. He claimed that the other person involved was the one that started it. He didn't have time to react before I walked out.'

I didn't dare look at her. I knew it was dumb of me to still be so hurt by what happened between him and I but I was. I trusted him deeply even to this day but I just couldn't let go of the way it looked like that wasn't their first kiss. No matter how many times he proved to me that it was.

Her hand moved to cup my face as she kissed away the small tears that I was shedding.

'I'm sorry he broke your heart Spencer. You didn't deserve that.'

'After I left we never fully spoke again. I never gave him the time of day. Not fully. We'd talk as friends and we'd talk for cases such as where Jj met Will but other than that I just shut anything to do with him out.'

I looked at her finally, my vision blurry with unshed tears and she looked at me and smiled softly at me. 'The truth is I was in love with him. After him I fell in love with Maeve. Then I met you and it's like everything started making sense again. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't drawn to you originally because in some aspects you reminded me of him. I think that was one of the reasons I first realized I was attracted to you.'

She pulled me in suddenly and kissed me sweetly on the lips. 'I love you Spencer. You and the things that make you, you now. We need to talk about Catherine but I'm getting very very sleepy and all I want from you right now is for you to let me drown in you and pretend for a small amount of time that these past few days haven't happened.'

I pulled her into me and held her as she buried her face into my hair. 'I love you Mrs Reid more than you will ever be able to comprehend.'

With that we both fell asleep for the first time in 4 days.

Taglist:

@sassymoon @rainsong01 @onlyhereforthefanfics @itsdars

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer x you #unsteady keys #spencer x y/n #spencer x reader insert

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

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Written In The Stars CXXXVII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Book 6 was beyond complicated to write due to some artistic choices I made lmao but again I do hope you guys like it even if I don’t feel it was perfect bc I enjoyed how most of it turned out -Danny

Words: 4,005

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘The Black and White’ -by The Band CAMINO.

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Prophecy.

Harry walked back to his chair and sat down heavily.

"Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well — not quite whole. You had suffered. I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years. I considered it almost a miracle when Emily agreed to move in next door so she could keep an eye on you..."

Even though Lord Voldemort perished that night in Godric's Hollow, his followers continue to hunt down answers for months, neither Harry nor Mel would've been safe in the wizarding world.

"You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died —and your father too, Mel— to save you. They gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood, Harry. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

"She doesn't love me. She doesn't give a damn —"

"But she took you. She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you. And as for you, Mel, you were just a baby, therefore Voldemort's followers couldn't tell if you were as skilled as your dad. It was only until last year when Voldemort realized you were hiding great power."

"I still don't —"

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, Harry, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years."

"My mother isn't a Dumbledore," Mel frowned. "If that's what kept Harry safe, living with his aunt, then why did I only meet you after I turned eleven?"

"You were a direct descendant from my brother and not me, you weren't in danger as much as Harry. Once I found out about your outbursts I talked to him, I knew you'd need his protection... I'm afraid his guilt stopped him. I've been taking his place, having you come into my office for a weekly lesson as a way to make sure you would be both, protected, while also learning to defend yourself."

Harry came into a new realization.

"You sent that Howler. You told my aunt to remember — it was your voice —"

"I thought that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son."

"It did. Well — my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she — she said I had to stay. But what's this got to do with..."

"Five years ago, then, you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well."

The memory of that small boy came to her. He didn't look much different from the Harry sitting beside her, except perhaps, for the way his gaze had darkened.

He'd always known Harry and Mel would eventually be hunted, and he'd made sure they'd be ready. Dumbledore had a plan from the moment they set a foot in the castle. She wondered exactly how much of everything happened accidentally, and how much had been planned.

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby? Ought I to have told you then? You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No... perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age, just like I refused to tell Mel about the rumours surrounding our family."

'The knowledge would be too much at such a young age'. Now, after four years, Mel felt weaker than when she was eleven. Somehow thinner, and far more fragile.

"Do you see? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

"I don't —"

"I cared about you too much. I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act."

Mel visibly deflated, a new wave of hurt crashing against her heart.

"So it's true, then?" She asked. "Caring only makes us weak?"

"My dear, I defy anyone who has watched you as I have —and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined — not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a pair of young souls on my hands..."

Mel had held something similar whenever she would reach out to kiss Harry, and nothing else in the world mattered when they were alone together... but after the third task, they were always so alone.

"...You came out of the maze last year, having watched Cedric Diggory die, having escaped death so narrowly yourself... you, Mel, gave away part of your own life, selflessly risking your own well-being just for the frail chance to see Harry again, and I did not tell you, because to tell you after having almost lost each other in such a way would've been beyond cruel, though I knew, now Voldemort had returned, I must do it soon.

And now, tonight, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only defence is this: I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who has ever passed through this school, and I could not bring myself to add another — the greatest one of all."

"...I still don't understand," Harry responded, though now his voice was a bit more quiet and fearful.

Dumbledore admitted what they already knew: Voldemort tried to kill him because of the prophecy, and he'd tried to stop it before it could be fulfilled. Now, years after and once again in a proper body, Voldemort set his mind on hearing the whole thing, looking for a way to end it.

The sun was fully out now, and as he finished, Mel felt the first glimmer of hope peering through.

"Mel broke the prophecy," Harry said quietly. "She crushed it against the ground..."

She closed her injured hand tightly without caring about the sharp pain that shot up to her elbow.

"I knew we could get rid of it."

"How?" Harry frowned. "How could you know?"

"Because that orb was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly," Dumbledore explained, looking at her with a strange glint in his eyes.

"Who heard it?" asked Harry, though he already knew the answer.

"I did. On a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head Inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer, and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave."

As Dumbledore stood up to retrieve something from a cabinet, Mel continued her story.

"That was the reason why my uncle knew what Voldemort was looking for," She swallowed harshly. "As soon as that thing broke I recognized the figure. How could I not? We've been seeing her for three years..."

Dumbledore came back holding the Pensieve, he put the tip of his wan on one temple and pulled, Mel stood up abruptly.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here to hear it."

"You've earned your place in this conversation," Dumbledore replied. "Your life is linked to Harry's, is only fair for you to hear it too... that way you'll be able to make an informed decision."

"Only if he agrees."

She was used to Harry keeping her at a proper distance from his doings, nevertheless, Harry grabbed her wrist.

"Sit down... please."

Before she could reply a figure rose from the Pensieve, there stood a small version of Sibyll Trelawney with a voice Mel had only imagined thanks to Harry's tales from two years ago:

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES... AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT... AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES..."

Professor Trelawney vanished slowly.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said after a moment. "It... did that mean... What did that mean?"

"It meant... that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times."

"It means — me?"

Dumbledore eyed both teenagers carefully before speaking.

"The odd thing is, Harry, that it may not have meant you at all. Sibyll's prophecy could have applied to three babies, one of them being Mel."

"What?"

"I thought it was meant to be Matthew's baby," He sighed, "an Auror and a Dumbledore... but alas, you were born at the start of the month — and you were a girl. There were still two more babies in line. Both born at the end of July that year, both of whom had parents in the Order of the Phoenix, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."

"But then... but then, why was it my name on the prophecy and not Neville's?"

"The official record was relabeled after Voldemort's attack on you as a child. It seemed plain to the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy that Voldemort could only have tried to kill you because he knew you to be the one to whom Sibyll was referring."

"Then — it might not be me?"

"I am afraid that there is no doubt that it is you."

"But you said — Neville was born at the end of July too — and his mum and dad —"

"You are forgetting the next part of the prophecy, the final identifying feature of the boy who could vanquish Voldemort... Voldemort himself would 'mark him as his equal.' And so he did, Harry. He chose you, not Neville. He gave you the scar that has proved both blessing and curse."

"But he might have chosen wrong! He might have marked the wrong person!"

"He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him. And notice this, Harry. He chose, not the pureblood (which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing), but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far — something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved."

In her mind, an alternate life started to take form: Mel as the orphan, Harry's parents alive and well, it was her the one facing death every time...

Then poor scarred Neville, while Mel and Harry lived surrounded by their families, perhaps even together. The fact that the only reason why Harry was the chosen one was a matter of gender and dates...

"Why did he do it, then? Why did he try and kill me as a baby? He should have waited to see whether Neville or I looked more dangerous when we were older and tried to kill whoever it was then — or even Mel... She's a Dumbledore — She's the strongest!"

"That might, indeed, have been the more practical course, except that Voldemort's information about the prophecy was incomplete. The Hog's Head Inn, which Sibyll chose for its cheapness, has long attracted, shall we say, a more interesting clientele than the Three Broomsticks. As you and your friends found out to your cost, and I to mine that night, it is a place where it is never safe to assume you are not being overheard. Of course, I had not dreamed, when I set out to meet Sibyll Trelawney, that I would hear anything worth overhearing. My — our — one stroke of good fortune was that the eavesdropper was detected only a short way into the prophecy and thrown from the building."

"So he only heard..?"

"He heard only the first part, the part foretelling the birth of a boy in July to parents who had thrice defied Voldemort. Consequently, he could not warn his master that to attack you would be to risk transferring power to you — again marking you as his equal. So Voldemort never knew that there might be danger in attacking you, that it might be wise to wait or to learn more. And once Mel was born at the start of July as a girl, and you a boy, this only narrowed it down to his apparent advantage. He did not know that you would have 'power the Dark Lord knows not' —"

"But I don't! I haven't any powers he hasn't got, I couldn't fight the way he did tonight, I can't possess people or — or kill them —"

"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries," Dumbledore replied carefully, "that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there. It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all.

That power is what has aided Mel to know if you're in danger and allowed her to help, that power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you. So you see, Mel," He added, "caring it's never useless."

"The end of the prophecy... it was something about... 'neither can live...' "

"'... while the other survives,' " Dumbledore concluded.

"So... so does that mean that... that one of us has got to kill the other one... in the end?"

"Yes."

They stayed silent for the longest time, Mel found her voice at the same time as her courage.

"Okay," She spoke. "We just have to make sure you're the one that lives."

Dumbledore's face hinted at a smile, but it did not form fully. Harry stared at her like the thought of surviving was next to impossible.

"I feel I owe you two other explanations," said Dumbledore carefully. "You may, perhaps, have wondered why I never chose you as prefects? I must confess that I rather thought both of you had enough responsibility to be going on with..."

Mel let out a dry chuckle, Harry just sighed.

"The second and final... is about the decision you ought to take."

"What decision?"

"Your lifeline," He started, "I've been reading about it since the third task... It's called Unio Azoth — A universal cure for any kind of injury, you heal with life itself, and it's always effective. However, not many people dare use it because it demands great sacrifice from both sides of the connection. It's created through highly complex magic, or it can happen, as it was your case, after multiple shared near-death experiences," He paused. "It can also be removed."

There was a split second in which the students didn't know how to react.

"You're saying," Mel started. "We've been hurting each other for a whole year — and you hid this from us?"

"You were on bad terms after the tournament, the removal can only happen if both sides consent, and you were holding onto it tightly, Mel."

"Is it dark magic?" Harry asked abruptly. "Our connection?"

Dumbledore took another long look at him.

"I believe that what you're trying to ask is if it's damaging for any of you," He replied. "Which is something that depends on the circumstances. There have been moments your connection has improved your lives, but it's also damaged you physically to a great extent. You're asking a question only you can answer, Harry."

"This could've fixed everything between us," Mel felt her anger increasing. "And you just let us argue instead? Why?"

"It was your impulsive actions that kept me from speaking, I couldn't risk one of you trying to cut it without the other knowing, it would've resulted in tragedy."

"We would've acted differently if only we’d known! The reason why we fought was because of how guilty Harry felt about putting me through extra pain — We could've just cut the damn thing — You thought I would've just decided to abandon him?"

"Isn't that what you were attempting this year?" Dumbledore asked pointedly.

"Harry and I couldn't stop fighting, I was tired — I had to keep my distance," Mel stood up. "He spent a whole year drowning in guilt thinking we couldn't change things —"

"When I found out it could be removed," Dumbledore's voice came out just as firm as hers. "You were already far too traumatized. Losing this would've felt like losing a limb. You weren't ready to make a choice then, but I can't keep you in the dark any longer, you have the whole picture now, so you can make an informed decision, but I must ask you to think —"

"I don't need to think it over," Mel said, but Harry spoke at the same time.

"I want to keep it."

"What?" She looked at him in disbelief.

Harry stared at her.

"It's thanks to this that I knew you were having panic attacks, you've saved my life many times now, I owe you — and it doesn't have to hurt, you can control it, I just need to learn how to do it too!"

"You've been nagging me about how much of a burden this was and suddenly you cling to it as if it were a blessing?" She narrowed her eyes.

"It's just..." His jaw tensed. "It works both ways — if I give it up and Voldemort takes you... I can't leave you to deal with it alone, you'd do the same for me. You've already done it."

Mel shook her head, speechless.

"The decision is yours to make..." Dumbledore concluded. "You have until next term to tell me, and then we'll do whatever you please."

They were walking side by side without speaking. She did not wish to fight, and she felt like it would happen if they were to bring up... well, everything.

"I'm sorry," He muttered.

"I don't want to hear it. I'm to blame as much as you are. I ignored you — Dumbledore's right, knowing would've tricked us into thinking we could deal with it on our own, it would've killed us... I've been selfish enough this year to know I would've felt tempted to try and cut it on my own. I won't admit it in front of him, though..."

"You weren't —"

"I don't want to have this conversation," She stopped walking. "Everyone thinks I'm like my father or my uncle... and I'm not. When I was with you I was just Mel... whoever that's supposed to be. When we fought I got lost — you said awful things to me, but you were the only one who wasn't treating me like some overpowered freak..."

"I can't promise we won't fight in the future, but there are worse things than disagreeing and the thought of dying without telling you that I..." He came to a halt, voice breaking.

They wanted to talk about so many things, and yet Mel felt like they would never get to say anything at all.

"You know," She said softly. "We've gone through so much already... and it's hard, looking at you and having to pretend I can continue like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm feeling so alone, Harry," She forced the words out of her. "I miss you."

She'd almost been murdered that night, treated like a ragdoll, and traumatized until there was no safe place in her world. Still, nothing made her feel quite as vulnerable and tiny as Harry's understanding of her, the way he knew every single corner of her mind as if it were his own.

Harry gazed at her with hurt, he clenched his jaw and shook his head lightly. She was ready to watch him leave when suddenly, he hugged her.

Mel was having trouble breathing against his shoulder but her arms kept him close, one hand made its way up to the back of his head while the other went to the middle of his back. He was a few inches taller than her, but she still felt like they were a perfect fit.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled against her hair, and Mel knew he wasn't just talking about Sirius.

"Me too," She closed her eyes tightly. "We'll find a way through this... together."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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theheartsmistakes · 4 years

Text

The Last Night: Part XIX

A/N’s at the end:

Parts I-XVIII:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII

Part XIV

Part XV

Part XVI

Part XVII

Part XVIII

.XIX.

Earlier that evening…

After seeing his mother to her room for her afternoon nap, Alastair retired for the remainder of the evening in the Institute library. It was the one room in the house, other than the unbearably small closet sized guest bedroom that the Herondales so graciously gave to him, where he could be alone.

After the past week of excruciating pain while the runes and Silent Brother’s magic repaired the bones in his leg, the damage to his head, waiting for Cordelia to wake up, and answering the barrage of questions from anyone with a tongue to speak, he craved the precious minutes he could find of peace. Charles, unfortunately, conducted most of the questioning, which often left Alastair with a headache worse than the one he’d woken up with after being thrown by the demon and cracking his head on stone. Even when it was just the two of them alone, Charles remained callous and professional, only bothering to ask how Alastair was fairing, but he directed most of the questions to the Brother Zachariah rather than Alastair himself. It felt as if their relationship had been nothing more than a figment of Alastair’s feverish imagination. Alastair began to question if it all had, in fact, all been a dream.

Most moments of quiet were spent beside Cordelia. When his mother retired for the night, Alastair would take up her position beside his sister and watch her chest rise and fall like he’d done when his parents brought her home as a baby. She was so tiny then. As delicate, round, and soft as a baby bird with tufts of red hair that already curled around her ears. Only a year and a few months older than his baby sister, he’d sit next to her crib and watch her sleep. He’d listen to the small shushing noise her breathing made, until he’d fall asleep. At some point in the night, he would be placed back in his bedroom, tucked under the blankets, and left under the glowing stars his bedside witchlight made across his ceiling. It wasn’t until Cordelia was a year old, and he was nearly three, that he stopped falling asleep on her floor, but only because his parents made him.

When Cordelia was awake, he wasn’t much different. The first few months weren’t terrible. She slept most of the time except when she was hungry or needed a change. It wasn’t until she was four months that Alastair thought he’d keel over from anxiety. His irresponsible mother would just place her on a blanket on the floor where anything and everything could fall or step on her. Not only that, but as time went on she’d begun to put everything in her mouth from leaves that had fallen off the giant fern in the corner, to splotches of mud from boots, and pieces off of the rug. Alastair was always there to fish out the foreign object from her gummy mouth before she could choke. He’d give her a proper scolding and she’d respond with a toothless laugh and gurgle that made Alastair’s insides feel like mush.

Cordelia was the first word out of his mouth when he woke up from his injuries. He wasn’t certain, but he felt he’d dreamed about her. The remnants of nightmares lingered underneath his skin like he’d been submerged in ice cold water for too long and couldn’t shake the chill. When he woke up and found Cordelia being held in an induced coma while her body healed from injuries inflicted while he’d been unconscious, unable to rescue her, made it difficult for him to breathe or to think. He’d felt like that little boy again sitting beside her crib afraid that the moment he looked away, she’d stop breathing.

When she’d finally woken up, he’d felt a rush of relief. He needed a moment to compose himself in the hallway before he went through her door to find her sitting up in bed, smiling at him with her own relief. But she’d forgotten everything that happened to her since the moment they left the institute, since she broke her engagement with James after he’d properly humiliated her.

He’d meant to warn James against ever speaking to his sister again, but the boy was like a shadow. He slipped in and out of the Institute before Alastair ever had the chance. He visited Cordelia when Alastair was asleep or bathing or being interrogated. And now, she was off galavanting with him and there was nothing Alastair could do to stop it. He wasn’t about to upset his mother by demanding that Cordelia not go with James.

On his way to the library, he practiced the speech he’d give James when they returned. He may be able to worm his way into the good graces of his sister, but not Alastair. It would take a lot more than his pathetic sallow looks and natural wind blown curls to win Alastair over. After everything James has done, he didn’t deserve Cordelia and Alastair made it his mission to make sure that James knew it.

By the time he reached the library, his leg throbbed under his weight. He’d been trying to use his crutch less despite Brother Zachariah’s advice to keep off of it. The sound of his grunt echoed mockingly through the library as he pushed open the door with his shoulder and stumbled inside with a curse.

A fire burned behind the elaborate grate and already had a decent bed of coals forming underneath it as though it had been burning for some time. A stack of books sat on the coffee table that stood in-between the fireplace and the two wingback chairs.

“Christopher,” said a familiar voice. “Is that you?”

Alastair seized and turned for the door. He was nearly there when the library occupant emerged from the middle isle and stopped when Alastair came into his view.

“Oh,” said Thomas, closing the book in his hands. “It’s you. What are you doing here?”

“I thought the room was empty,” said Alastair, adjusting his weight to his good leg. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“How is your leg?” asked Thomas and tucked the book under his arm.

Alastair patted it with his hand. “It’s still there.”

“And your head?”

“Also there,” said Alastair. “The bandages itch something awful and I fear I’ll always have a slight pain in my knee when it’s about to rain, but otherwise, I am nearly mended.”

Thomas slid his hand into his trouser pocket. “Good. That’s good.”

“I never did thank you properly for coming to our aid,” said Alastair, braving a small chance at having a conversation with Thomas after not speaking with him since…well, since the night Matthew revealed Alastair’s deepest regrets. “I’m afraid of what would have happened if you had not come.”

“We did it for Cordelia,” said Thomas, without a note of sympathy in his tone.

“Right.” Alastair nodded. “Of course. Still, I offer you my thanks—“

“I don’t want your thanks,” said Thomas, turning his back to Alastair to return the book to the empty spot on the shelf. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Thomas,” started Alastair as he braved a step closer. He felt as fragile as the thin ice that blooms on a lake at the start of winter. One wrong step and he’d break through. “I know what I’ve done to your family is unforgivable and if there is ever anything I can do to unravel the mess that I’ve created—“

“You can’t.”

“I understand but if there is—“

“My mother cried herself to sleep for months because of the lies you told,” said Thomas, calmly. “She locked herself in her bedroom and wouldn’t let my father in no matter how desperately he begged or how strongly he claimed the rumors were false. She made herself sick to the point where father left only so that she would come out of her room or let someone in to bring her food and water.” Warmth bloomed across Alastair’s face. He wanted to hang his head in shame and fall to his knees, broken or otherwise, and beg for Thomas’s forgiveness, but he did no such thing. Instead, he lifted his chin and continued to listen to the consequences of his actions. “She looked so frail when she finally emerged. Barbara was the first one she spoke to; the only one she spoke to. It took several more weeks before she’d even acknowledge my father. I think she had to convince herself that it wasn’t true before she could believe anyone else. I’m ashamed to admit that even I questioned the validity of it.”

Thomas took a deep breath, his eyes were rimmed with tears, and his mouth set in a hard line. “I just want to know why? Can you tell me at least that? Why attack me— my family?”

The truth dangled on Alastair’s tongue. The truth that would uncover every secret that Alastair buried deep inside and fought his whole life to remain unknown, to everyone, including his own beloved sister.

Because my father is a drunk.

Because I was afraid of anyone finding out the shame he’d caused my family for years.

Because the four of you: Matthew, James, Christopher, and you had something that I never had and would never have because I cannot allow people to get close enough to me in fear that they will be able to see the shame of my family; and they would see what I am. So I took the attention off of my family—off of me— and put it on yours and Matthew’s.

And I can never take it back.

“Tell me!” Alastair shuttered at the pain in Thomas’s voice. He’d never heard him shout, not once, even after Barbara died.

Maybe it was better if Thomas hated him. It meant his secrets were safe. In doing so, he’d keep Thomas from more ridicule and his family as well. Even if Thomas didn’t know it, he’d be doing him a favor. A small one that might cause more pain than redemption or forgiveness which they both seemed to be after.

So he’d let him hate him in hope that maybe one day the truth would be enough.

“I should go,” said Alastair, turning towards the door. “Cordelia should be arriving soon for supper.”

“You’re really going to walk away?” Thomas scoffed. “Are you such a coward that you can’t just tell me the truth?”

“What good would it do?” spat Alastair, the defense he’d carefully been building all of his life built up with even more strength. “You think there is some deep meaning behind my actions? Some explanation that will make me less of a monster. You were an easy target, the four of you. You were defenseless and weird and Matthew was the most irritating of you all. And I heard a rumor and I wanted to humiliate him, because I was bored, and because I could.”

Alastair’s chest ached as the tears spilled from Thomas’s eyes. He quickly wiped at them with his sleeve and when he looked at Alastair again, he recognized the hate that boiled behind his eyes. It was the same hate in his own eyes whenever he looked in a mirror.

“Get out,” whispered Thomas, his voice so low, Alastair almost didn’t hear him.

“Gladly,” said Alastair and pulled open the door. As he turned down the hall towards the staircase, he heard a loud bang hit the wall. He didn’t stop or hesitate, the tapping sound of his crutch hitting the wood flooring echoed through the hallway.

____

The door to the staff hall groaned open just as Alastair walked down the last step. Lucie Herondale, shaking the rain from her hands and muttering something to herself, looked up in surprise to find Alastair standing at the end of the staircase. Her elegant blue dress was stained black at the hem and discolored with rain. Droplets glistened on her skin as she came to a stop underneath a glowing witchlight orb hovering above her. He waited a moment for Cordelia to come in behind her, as she so often does, but when she didn’t his eyes narrowed on Lucie.

“Where is Cordelia?” he asked, subtly gone from his tone as he was far too tired to pretend any longer.

“She was just behind—“

He didn’t wait for her to finish. He had an idea that he already knew.

He moved around Lucie, still muttering her excuses, and pushed open the staff hall door. A few of the maids gossiping in the hallway quickly moved out of his way. Teeth clenched, Alastair followed the trail of rain droplets that Lucie brought in with her until they came to an end at the staff exit. Before he could stop to think for a moment, he grabbed the door handle and yanked it open.

A blind rage consumed him at the vision standing on the little porch. James Herondale with his hands around Cordelia’s waist and mouth consuming hers while her own hands were tangled in his hair.

They broke apart like two dropped links at the sudden intrusion of light.

A high pitched whistle filled his ears. With hands trembling, he reached out and grabbed Cordelia’s arm, wrenching her inside. When James attempted to pursue, he pressed the end of his crutch into his chest and pushed. “Haven’t you done enough to ruin my sister’s reputation?”

“Alastair,” said Cordelia, gripping the arm that kept her behind him.

After a few steps backward, James regained his balance, and smiled a malicious grin that was void of any kindness. “Haven’t you grown tired of causing other people pain?”

“Pain?” Alastair seized with disdain. “What do you know of it in your privileged little life? I’ve taken responsibility for what I’ve done. Have you?” He took a limp step out onto the small brick laid porch. The witchlight lantern flickered with the energy crackling between the two of them. “You may have beguiled her into forgetting what you’ve done, but I certainly have not.”

“Alastair,” cried Cordelia as a crack of thunder rumbled through the sky. He heard the pain and desperation in her voice and he ignored it.

“You’re toxic and dangerous,” continued Alastair as he stepped out into the rain, advancing toward James. “Everything you touch becomes ruin. Trouble pursues you. You use people for your own selfish gain. I may have turned a blind eye before when I knew the engagement was a farce to repair my sister’s reputation, but I will not allow my sister to come into an honest romantic entanglement with the likes of a half-demon sycophant who is only using her for his own selfish gain.”

James’s hands clenched into fists at his sides as he glared down at Alastair as though at any moment he would hit Alastair square in the jaw. Alastair wondered how much farther he’d need to push. What other buttons he’d need to press. “Walk away, Alastair.” James growled so low it was difficult to hear him.

“Or what?” Alastair met his glare. “Are you going to hit me? Go on then, do it.”

“I’m not like you,” said James as rain dripped down his face. “I won’t let you drag me down to whatever miserable level of hell you currently reside. I care about your sister and I’m trying to right my wrongs; I’ve made a lot of them I’ll admit, but I am trying. Can you say the same?”

The question shook through Alastair. The rain dripped down James’s face reminding him of the tears that spilled from Thomas’s face only moments ago because of Alastair’s words. It seemed the people he cared about were evaporating from his life, he wasn’t about to lose his sister too.

“Stay away from my sister,” said Alastair. “I won’t ask you again.”

“Alastair,” Cordelia hissed as he pushed her back into the house and closed the door before James could stop him. He clicked the lock into place as James jiggled the knob. With his crutch securely tucked under his arm, he grabbed Cordelia’s hand with the other. But before he could drag her along, she ripped free from him and pressed her back against the door.

“Don’t be stupid, Cordelia,” hissed Alastair. “You have to be smarter than this. Can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s trying to get back at me for what I did to him at the academy by hurting you!”

“I’m not stupid,” she spat back. Her hair hung in limp curls around her face. Her cheeks had more color in them than he’s seen in months. It irritated him further. “And he’s not. Unlike you he’s trying to move past all of that. You’re not children at the academy anymore, grow up! He cares about me and I care about him and neither of those things have anything to do with you.”

Alastair felt his chest explode, but only laughter burst from his lips. “He doesn’t care about you, Cordelia. He doesn’t. You don’t matter to him. You have to see that.”

“I do matter to him!”

“You don’t,” demanded Alastair. “I’ve seen the way he looks at Grace Blackthorn and it’s not the same way he looks at you. Have you forgotten what he’s done?”

“That was a misunderstanding,” said Cordelia, her eyes brimming. “He explained everything to me.”

“Did he?” asked Alastair. He pointed his finger at the door where James last stood. “How convenient that when he can’t have the girl that he’s actually in love with, he comes groveling back to the girl that gives her love so freely.” Cordelia’s cheeks bloomed red as she tore her eyes away from him. “He’s a liar and he’s trouble and you’re not to see him ever again, do you understand me?”

“You cannot forbid me to see him.”

“Yes, I can.” Alastair glared. “Because if I find out that you are seeing him, I will tell everyone that he was the one that burned down Blackthorn manor and the night we left it was he who was in Grace Blackthorn’s bedroom when you walked in.”

Cordelia looked at him as if he had struck her. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being this way?”

Alastair shook. “I am trying to stop you from making a horrible decision.”

“Stop trying to protect me!” Cordelia demanded. “I don’t criticize you for your choices on who to involve yourself with and I do not appreciate being told who I can or cannot love anymore than you do.” She smoothed the wet hair away from her face. “You promised. You promised you wouldn’t say a word of those secrets. How dare you throw them in my face to accomplish your own vindications. I will not be your pawn in this long standing war you have with him. If you say a word of those secrets to anyone, I will never speak to you again. Then you will truly be alone.”

She shouldered around Alastair, her skirts dripped water as she passed him, and this time Alastair didn’t reach out to stop her.

A/N: Good evening! I hope your October is going splendidly so far. I am experiencing some moderate to extreme anxiety due to work related issues. My job before quarantine has not asked me to return yet, so I found and started a freelance writing job, which in theory should be really exciting, but I have ZERO self-confidence in myself or my writing. So, I’m working through that. This chapter was a fun escape for me. I hope you guys enjoy it! Please hit that cute little heart, drop a lovely comment, and reblog if you feel so inclined. As always, be safe, take care of yourself, and stay healthy out there. Next update will be in two weeks, Nov 1.

#chain of gold fanfic #chain of gold #james x cordelia #james and Cordelia #james herondale #Cordelia Carstairs #alastair carstairs #the last night fanfiction #cassandra clare #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunters #lucie herondale #thomas lightwood #thomas x alastair #thomastair #thomas and alastair

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dolphindiluna · 4 years

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𝗜 𝗪𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗕𝗲 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗮𝗺𝗲 The cell continued to ring. He should talk to Sam, let him know that he was alive. He laughed bitterly at the thought, was he really alive? He didn't feel that way. He was flesh, bones, tears and blood. But alive? No. Living had just taken on another dimension. The point is that he died so many times that he lost count, but for the first time he knew what it was to really die, this death that people talk about, death in life.

How many important people fell on the way?

His mind returned to the day of his mother's death. Even though he was not in his room that day, his father had counted on so many details, on a night of drunkenness, that he didn't even need to see with his eyes, his mind "saw" much more than he wanted.

Then the father. That father obsessed with killing the damn demon who took the life of his beloved wife. The father who raised his children to save people, hunting things, the family business. The father absent for loving too much.

And Ellen and Jo. Pamela, Bob, Kevin, Charlie. And so many others. Many…

And again the father and mother.

And Sam. Each time he lost his brother, a piece of him died together. Sam, who kept calling over and over.

- Sam, I'm fine.

- Dean! What happened? Why did it take so long to answer the phone?

- Sorry, Sammy. Are you ok?

He heard the sound of his brother swallowing the words, those few seconds hanging over them like a sharp sword. Dean knew, he always knew.

- Sammy?

- Dean, everybody's gone, everybody. Charlie, Bob and even Donna. It's just me and Jack.

The brother's voice was weak. Sam who was so dedicated to protecting everyone, even with the weight of Eileen's loss on his shoulders. He wanted to hug him. He wished he could go back in time when he carried Sam in his boyish arms and rocked him, promising to protect him from danger. "Take care of your brother, Dean" had been the main task his father had given him, and he, as a good soldier, never deviated from his mission. Taking care of Sam, protecting him, was what gave him the strength to get up every morning.

- Sammy, come home.

- Dean, is everything okay? What happened to Billie?

- Billie is dead. You and Jack, come home soon.

- Okay, Dean.

He hung up the phone and put his hands on his face again. He was not able to tell Sam the whole truth, because telling what happened was having to face reality, and he was not yet ready to say goodbye.

The silence in the dungeon choked him, but he didn't have the strength to leave. Maybe he didn't want to leave. Somewhere in his heart, a fragile flame continued to resist. He looked at the wall, hoping the black hole would regurgitate what The Empty had stolen from him.

"I annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent me back."

Dean remembered those words as if they were said yesterday. He clung to them in despair. But deep down, he knew, he knew that The Empty would not give up again.

Why didn't he tell the truth? Why?

Why did he push his feelings into some dark corner of himself, not even allowing himself to think?

Why didn't he give himself the right to believe that he could be loved, be happy?

All that fury that has weighed on his chest since childhood, that anger that he thought defined him.

"Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love."

Even now he couldn't see himself that way, because that meant he was always a coward for not having struggled to take on what he felt.

Coward. He had been a coward until the end. And now he paid the price for being afraid to say the same words he had received.

The chest pain increased. He needed to get out of there, he needed to breathe. Shivering, using the wall as a support, he stood up slowly. The first steps were unstable. He managed to reach the chair in the middle of the room, held it in search of something solid to keep him on his feet until he felt he could walk without fear of falling.

When he finally reached the door, he couldn't resist and looked back again. That flame in his chest had just gone out. The pain increased, crushing his heart.

"You changed me, Dean ... I love you."

He ran out of the room, his hand over his mouth to stifle his sob.

He didn't want to be that anymore. He no longer wanted to be the Dean who assumed all the responsibilities and suppressed any feeling that his enemies could use against him. He was tired of being strong, of trying to be invincible.

He heard Sam calling for him. He needed his brother, needed this time to reverse logic, needed Sam to take care of him, to protect him from pain.

- Sammy.

Your voice so weak, so different from your voice of thunder.

- Sammy, Sammy!

He arrived at the library without strength. His brother was near the big table in the lobby.

- Sammy, please.

Sam ran towards him, followed closely by Jack. His frightened eyes were filled with concern. There, in the center of the library, the two came face to face.

He couldn't take it anymore, everything around him spun. He saw Cass in every corner of that place. Cass hugging him when they met after Chuck and Amara left. Cass sitting next to him in one of the few moments of peace, celebrating Jack's life.

Cass, smiling through her tears, saying goodbye to never come back.

- He's gone, Sammy.

Finally, the heavy tears broke through the barrier and he fell to the floor. The weight of defeat weighed on his body. He punched his chest several times in penance.

Sam didn't know what had happened, but he suspected it had to do with Castiel's absence. He knelt in front of his brother, pulling him into his arms. He always feared that this day would come, the day when Dean would accept his own feelings, but that Cass would not be there to receive them.

- He's gone, Sammy, gone. And I didn't say. I didn't say, Sammy.

- Put it all out, Dean, don't keep it anymore.

The brother's words allowed him to be the Dean that Castiel once loved.

- CASS!

The aching cry tore at his chest.

Jack watched his parents' pain and felt powerless because there was nothing he could do. All he wanted to do was bring Cass back, but he had no more powers. He no longer had Castiel. His father had died.

The strength with which the angel's name was said in that place full of magic, had the power to transcend the walls and resonate beyond that plane. In heaven, the angels wept for the loss of yet another of them. Castiel had been a friend and also an enemy, in the end being just another puppet in the hands of God.

In hell, Rowena stopped in the middle of a lustful laugh. His eyes watered. After all, the angel also became his boy.

But it was Chuck who was pierced by that spear of pain. He, who in his arrogance despised his own creations, who played with their lives, now felt the agony with such violence that it surprised him. In her mind, Amara's voice, full of bitterness, prophesied:

- Brother, you can lie to yourself as much as you want. But the truth is that you lost your most loyal son, the one who loved you so much, the one you wickedly despised. And I know it hurts you. We feel Dean's pain. And as long as we exist, we will carry that pain as a reminder of how bad we can be.

Chuck turned his eyes to Dean and for a moment hesitated in his firm intention to destroy everything. The weight of loneliness as a reminder of your choices. Sitting on his mythical throne, he was the image of a defeated god.

In the library, Dean continues to cry hugging his brother, his face buried in Sam's chest. It was sad to see that they had switched places, Sammy was taking care of Dean as Dean had always done for him.

- Dean, you need to vent, you can't have all that feeling with you anymore.

The pain, like fire, rose in his throat and was finally released.

- Cass, you are the only one I want to have, my true happiness. Cass, I love you ...

Words can transform. Words heal.

In The Empty, where angels and demons rest, dreaming eternally of their past, Castiel, in his serene sleep, dreams of the words he wanted to hear so much. His lips curl in an affable smile, while a tear escapes his sleeping eyes.

- I always knew, Dean … ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- I wrote this story a few days after the episode aired, listening to "I Will Never Be The Same" (which became the title of this story) by Melissa Etheridge, because this song, for me, is the synthesis of what happened to these two characters. These were, as they have been ever since, days of sadness and anxiety. The question the fandom keeps asking itself: is it really the end? Did the series make Destiel canon to kill Castiel soon after? As a fan, especially as a fan of Destiel, I am still waiting for the return of our beloved angel in the last episode, to finally find happiness with the man she loves. Because these two definitely deserve to be happy after everything they've been through. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- English is not my first language. Please forgive any mistakes I may have made. And I don't know whose illustration it is. If anyone knows, please let me know so I can give the artist proper credit.

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theredhead23 · 3 years

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My mother is in the Hospital (end of life, please read)

Yesterday, I came home with the girls after Kira's first soccer practice and my phone started ringing. My first thought was, how the hell is calling me at this hour? I look at the caller ID, which yes, I need to know who is calling me because I don't want to talk to some people - mainly bot calls.

Anyway, the caller was a nurse from the care home. She told me that she had just sent my mother to the ER because she had a seizure. My mother has no history of seizures so I panicked a bit. I gathered some stuff and rushed out to the ER.

When I go there, a nurse was doing an assessment of my mother while the blood lady was taking vials and bottles, for blood tests and cultures. The nurse told me that my mother's temp was over 103 - which was very different than what the nurse from the care home told me, (she said it was 99.6).

Either way, my mother was laid out completely straight on the bed. She wasn't responding to anything other than grunting when pinched, swapped, or poked.

I sat down in a chair by her bed a bit shocked by this. If everyone who knows my mother, she can be a pain in the ass and always wanting her coffee. Here she wasn't really moving and breathing really heavy.

Shortly after I arrived, the doctor came in and started to ask me all sorts of questions. One that stood out was, 'has your mother had a CAT scan of her recently here or at any other hospitals?'

After a few moments of answering questions, he asked me to follow him to another room to talk.

He brought me into another room with a computer with about four screens. The biggest screen had a scan of a top of a skull.

For the next five or ten or even twenty minutes, he started to explain and show me my mother's CAT scan from 2014. It was 'relatively normal' for my mother. For those who do not know, my mother has Hydrocephalus - water around the brain. She has had it since birth and didn't get a shunt until 2011. (I can explain more about her condition later but the main thing I want you to know is that since she was untreated for Hydrocephalus for almost 50 years, her brain is damaged. (They knew she has Hydrocephalus but it was the 60's and I'm guessing they didn't know the best way of handling things or whatnot.)

Anyway, because of this, her brain has been damaged and in some was 'soften' in a way. I know there are better terms but for right now, I'm keeping it simple.

The doctor is showing me these scans from 2014 and telling me about them. Then, he clicks on the scans he had done that evening. Right away, I notice something is off and it's hard to explain in words what without the pictures to show you but they were not the same as the ones from 2014.

In the scans from yesterday, there is a large mass almost in front of her brain. It measured about 8 cm around.

One problem is with a CAT scan, you really can't see things as well as an MRI can. He continues to tell me that he had reached out to a neurologist to get other opinions. I said yes, I would like that and he showed me back to my mother's ER bay.

I sat with her for a while. I stared at her for a while. So many thoughts and almost was going on in my head.

I couldn't really tell you how longs things were taking at the point. but almost everything you could think of popped in my head.

Eventually late that night, we spoke to a neurologist who told me that it was more than a doubt a tumor - most likely cancer. The issue was that without doing a biopsy, there is really no way of telling what kind of cancer it is. Also, she added that since it is 8 cm and there was no sign at all in 2014, this has grown fast. Brain tumors do not become this size in less than seven years. So she had no doubt that it will continue to grow rapidly.

Here came the hardest debate I have ever had with myself; do I rush off like a madwoman and get it biopsied and get her treatment or removed or anything at all? Throw everything and the kitchen sink at it?

Two things popped in my mind at this point,

one: she barely beat COVID when she had it last November.

two: because of how fragile her brain is, doing anything that involves breaking into the skull is very risky. The risks will always outweigh the benefits - if any.

To biopsy this mass - this tumor involves getting into her skull and cutting a section of it out and testing it. Even if we are able to get a sample, there is a high chance that my mother would die on the table. And how helpful would that be? We know what kind of cancer it is, but she's dead.

Second, even if we know what kind of cancer it is, the treatment course of possible surgeries, chemo, radiation, and a whole cocktail of meds for her to take, what quality of life would she have?

Even before she had COVID, I choose for her to be a DNR. Because I know that life-saving actions come with risks - like CPR could break ribs. And with all of her health issues, the risk of getting the life-saving actions would do more harm in the long run than any good.

A lot of people are aware of my mother's history with me and her family. She has always been difficult, stubborn, mean, rude, and other things. Even with all these horrible qualities, she is still human. She is still a child of God. She is still a living being. She is still my mother.

As a human being, as a living thing, she deserves quality of life versus quantity of life.

Even with treatment, what would that do? Add a few months, maybe even a year to her life. But at what cost? She would be sick, weak, tired, and worn out. Just because treatment added a year, what was the benefit if she is miserable?

Please do not take this as I didn't think about it. I have at many points in my life with her.

I have watched my grandfather, my grandmother, and my grandmother-in-law die. Working at the care home for a few years, I have seen people die. I have seen some drag-on and try to fight with every breathe while I have seen others go quickly without much, or any fight. Some went peacefully with family while some went peacefully alone. Some suffered until the bitter end.

I have been quiet for the past 24 hours because I honestly don't know what to do - if I can do anything. Should I try treatment? Should I do more to extend her life? Should I just do nothing?

I have cried, stared at walls, talked to myself out loud, talked to her doctors, and even just stared at her. What is the right call for this? What is the right decision for this?

She will be turning 60 in November. My father passed away at 62-ish. Jimmy Carter is still alive at 97. Who the hell am I to make this choice?

To be honest, I'm no one. But I am a daughter, a mother myself, a wife, a sister, a friend to like four people and I am human too.

Today, after spending hours of trying to track down records for my mother (seriously, what is wrong with state and losing paperwork? [trust me, that's another story].) It was ruled due to not knowing if her shunt is MRI compatible, it's not safe to do an MRI. So the doctors decided to do another CAT scan with contrast.

With this test, nothing new was really discovered other than she has some necrotic, dead material around the tumor.

After a lot of thinking, talking, texting, calling, crying, complaining, staring, and other things, I have chosen quality over quantity for the rest of my mother's time in this world.

Now maybe writing this long babble of a post might not be the best or proper way of telling people but for me, right now, I needed to get all of it out at once and in a way, share it with everyone.

Was this easy to type? Hell no. I have spent most of the day typing bits and pieces debating on what to do and what to share.

Tomorrow morning, I am going to meet with the health care team and start making plans about hospice and end-of-life care. I will also be reaching to lots of people in the upcoming days, weeks, maybe months.

But for now, I needed to type up a long-winded post and share what is going on in one place with everyone.

I am open for emails, calls, texts, messages, letters, and any other way you feel like getting a hold of me. But for now, I am trying to take things moment by moment and not dwell on her dying but on the time she is still here. Which is really hard and really scary.

That is really all I know at the moment. I will update as I go and I will post more about my mother and stuff as well. This was not what I had in mind for October.

If you want to send well wishes to my mother, I will post about how to do it and stuff like that later. Right now, it's almost ten o'clock at night and she is asleep peacefully. I'm going to leave it here.

#hospice #dying #mother #not ready #scared #worried #exhausted #end of life #don't know what to do #lost #brain #cancer #brain tumor #saying goodbye #daughter #need help

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sweetchup · 4 years

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Cute Little Princess

Anonymous said: Anything with phinks please 🥺 I love this big dumb gym rat sm

Type: Phinks x Princess Reader

Au?: None (Is in the same timeline as N.E.R.D.S)

Word Count: 3,000

Warnings: Angst

Author Note: Oof you give me my boi Phinks and say anything?! Get ready my friend cause I know the perfect thing 😤👏👏. Also I used a small reference to my one of my favorite childhood shows if anyone can catch it. It’s very small though.

So today’s a Tuesday, an average taco Tuesday for mister Phinks Magcub. Well that’s what he would like to say right now.

“So Mr Magcub, you’re a wealthy businessman from the Mimbo republic?” A women says, laughing before taking a sip from from her expensive wine.

“W-why yes I am ma’am.”

Why couldn’t the boss have picked Nobunaga or even Machi for this mission? Phinks was currently stuck in the Royal Castle of the Fushi Empire. Chrollo had wanted someone to get close to the royal family in order to collect information on where their famous Dragon Eye collection was located. And of course, Shalnark, being the ass he is who was originally chosen, had to drop out at the last minute. So, Phinks had to cover for him.

Phinks is snapped out of his thoughts as the Emperor puts down his wine glass. He wipes his stubbly chin with a cloth before looking at Phinks.

“So, Mr Magcub, you said you are interested in marrying one of my daughters, if I’m correct? Which one catches your eye?” The Emperor questions, moving his hand to point at his 3 daughters. The golden robe the emperor was wearing flows in the wind from an open window as he does so.

Phinks turns to look at the girls in front of them. They were all incredibly beautiful but one had caught his eye since he first stepped into the room. It was the youngest daughter of the Fushi Emperor, (Y/n) Fushi. No one could lie that the lady was absolutely gorgeous, with locks that look like pure silk and bright diamond like eyes. She also wore a very nice light jade green and white Hanfu that made her look like a little princess. But, as much as Phinks want to choose her, he knew that the best choice for the mission would be the eldest daughter, Himiko.

“I actually like your eldest daughter, Himiko. Her long blond locks against her pink kimono really catch my eye.” Phinks says, smiling at the princess. Himiko and the middle sister giggle like crazy and whisper to each other. He’s now actually thankful that one of the old men back at Meteor City taught him proper etiquette and how to be a gentleman. Cause if he didn’t, he probably would be hanged by now.

The king chuckles at his daughter’s antics. “Well Mr. Magcub, I’m sure my daughter would love to be your bride.”

Phinks smirks to himself. What a sucker. “Please, no need for formalities, call me Phinks.”

————💥✊🏻💥————

“So, did you finally get it?” Phinks says as he leans against the windowsill. Watching the greens of the prestigious castle garden move under the moonlight gleam.

“Yeah we got it, it was pretty easy too. The Dragon Eye collection is in fact already back at the base. Also the Boss wants you back by sometime tomorrow or the day after that. So you’ll probably want to get a move on.” Nobunaga's voice says from the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. I know, I’ll be there.”

Phinks hangs up the phone and lets out a sigh. Finally, after 2 weeks stuck here, his life will go back to normal. He could finally get out of this uncomfortable green tang suit he’s been wearing. Huh? It’s you again. Phinks looks out at the window as you begin to climb the garden wall. While he’s been here, Phinks has noticed that it’s a nightly thing you do; you climb the wall, leave for hours on end and come back tired. What are you? One of the twelve dancing princesses?

He truly wonders what you go off and do. Phinks suddenly smirks to himself. Well, it is his last night here so it wouldn’t hurt to follow. Who knows maybe you're some secret stripper or lady of the night? He whistles to himself at the thought. Man that would be awesome if that is the case. He surely hopes so.

And, in a flash, Phinks is out of his bedroom, with his small bag of stuff slinged over his shoulder. After quietly jumping through the trees, he is following you down the winding streets of the capital city. It was pretty easy too since you're not wearing a cloak, after all there’s really no need for it in the first place since no one knows what the princesses look like.

You, the youngest princess of Emperor HuinYa Fushi, was slipping past people in the crowd, wearing an old Hanfu from one of the servants. Your heart is pounding as you look past the many street lanterns and open shops for the night. No matter how many times you sneak out, it nevers gets old. Afterall, you believed this sight was much more beautiful than being back at the castle. Trapped like a bird in a cage. You, honestly, just wanted to explore the world, seeing everything it has to offer. The good and the bad.

“Miss! How about a nice refreshing Bing Tanghulu? It’s only two for 25 quien.” The salesman shouts, pointing a candied strawberry skewer right at you. The man’s silliness causes you to break out in a giggle and you reach into your pocket to grab some money. Once you have the 3 silver coins needed to buy them you go to give it to the salesman.

“Here—“ “Here. She’ll take two strawberry ones and I’ll take a grape one.” You freeze as you are cut off by a man’s deep voice and an arm slinging around your shoulder. You look up as the mystery man who holds out two of the sticks to you and gasp in shock. “Phinks?!?”

“Hiyah sweetheart.” Phinks says and smirks, taking a bite out of a candied grape. You shakily grab the two sticks from him as he leads you away. How did he know you were here? Did he follow you? You look around worriedly. Wait, is your whole family at the market tonight?

“What are you doing here?!” You whisper-shout. You were probably ghostly pale from worry, though that is probably hard to see due to how dark it is out. But still, you don’t want your father to find out you're sneaking out every night. He won’t ever leave you on your own again, if he found out.

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

“W-well…” You just sigh in defeat causing Phinks to chuckle. Oh god what a mess you got into. You better hope your father and sisters aren’t actually here. You're suddenly startled as Phinks ruffle your hair.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, It’s just me. I just wanted to see where you run off to every night. Mind showing me what you do?” You bite your lip as Phinks says that. It would be fun for someone to join you for once. But… could you trust him? He might be your sister’s fiancé but they have been only engaged for 2 weeks. He’s also acting differently right now than what he is usually like. “Come on. Lead the way?”

You look up at Phinks as he pats you on the back. You guess, it wouldn’t hurt for some company for one night. Right? You giggle and grab him by the arm, dragging him down the street. “Ok! Come on then. It’ll be fun.”

Phinks smirks as he runs with you. You even looked gorgeous running through the crowds under the blurred red and yellow lanterns. He kind of wondered what it would be like running with you hand n’ hand after some sort of robbery or heist. That would be fun but oh well, at least you’re showing him what you do for fun.

————💥✊🏻💥————

This is not what Phinks expected when you said this is what you do for fun.

“Kick his ass, girl!!”

“Come on!! I bet a lot of money on that guy.”

“Hell yeah!”

There he was standing on the sidelines in an underground small stadium, watching a princess he found cute as fuck in an illegal underground fighting match. Who knew you were an enhancer as well. Phinks is knocked out of his confusion as a rumble shakes through the arena. You had just roundhouse kicked the guy out of the rink and right through a stone wall.

“And that's match! (Y/n) wins by K.O!!” The referee announces, holding up your arm. The crowd breaks out into cheers and boos. Phinks grumbles, some of the people who bet on that guy were just sore losers.

“Phinks!” Phinks looks up to see you running and leaning on the railing of the fighting floor. Damn. Phinks felt like he was melting into the floor as you came up to him. You honestly looked like his dream girl; You looked so cute with diamond shining eyes, your fragile doll-like features and your silky hair pulled out of your face. But, with you covered in sweat, bruised up a little and covered in the blood from the other guy, you also looked so hot and now ten times better than he first met you in his opinion. “W-what did you think?”

Phinks chuckles as you look nervous, waiting for his opinion. “That was awesome. Good job! I didn’t even know you knew nen.”

“Ah-h yeah. I got initiated into it after some of the older members gave me a heads up for a championship match I was supposed to take part in. I was honestly so thankful for them.” You say, remember back to about 2 years when this had all started. Wow…it had really been that long ago. Oh, wait a minute! “Phinks!”

Phinks hums in response and raises an eyebrow. You blush in embarrassment and look down, fumble with the rope like railing. You can’t believe you're about to ask this, “D-Do you wanna do a match?”

Phinks is shocked for a minute before smirking and jumping up over the rope. You light up like a kid on Christmas as soon as you see him step into the ring. “Sure sweetheart. But, I ain’t going easy on you.”

“O-ok! Hey Ref, I have a challenger!”

Phinks smiles as he watches you run off to the ref to explain the match and your challenger. Honestly, he’s positive at this point that you're his dream girl. He suddenly frowns as he realizes something.

He has to leave tonight…. crap.

“Phinks!!” Phinks looks up as you stand on the other side of the ring. “Ready?”

Phinks smiles and nods. The match bell rings signaling the fight has begun. He’ll deal with that problem once it comes. But right now, it’s his time to have fun.

————💥✊🏻💥————

“Awww man!! I can’t believe you beat me~ I for sure thought I was going to win.” You whine as you and Phinks make your way through the now dark and practically empty streets. All the lanterns were out so the only light provided was from the big full moon dropping into the horizon, though you didn’t mind since it was such a clear night out. A perfect night to watch the stars. Well, it technically would have been but you were so distracted by the fun you were having that you didn’t realize how late it is. The sun will break over the horizon any second now and you better get back to the castle.

Though that was the least of your concerns, Phinks was acting weird. He hadn’t answered you or smiled at all since you two started walking back to the castle. The only thing he did other than walk behind you and act like a puss is he kept on weirdly checking his phone every couple of seconds. Like he was waiting for something. Did something happen while you weren’t looking?

You hear a small grumble from him as he checks his phone again. That was it. You’ve had enough of his antics. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to face him. “Phinks! What’s the matter with you?”

Phinks blinks a couple of times before pushing past you, grumbling something under his breath. That ass! You weren’t having any of that so you grabbed onto his arm and pulled him down onto the ground. Phinks glares at you as he lands on his ass, “What the hell was that for?!”

“That’s for not listening to me! Now, what is wrong with you? I thought we had fun tonight.”

Phinks tches and mumbles, “Well it’s not like it’s ever going to happen again.”

“W-well why not?!”

“It’s just not alright!” He shouts, brushing himself off as he stands up from the dirty ground. You glare at the man in front of you, a golden hue surrounding him since the sun has just begun to rise over the horizon.

You were just so confused as he just stalks by you again. What did he mean by you two wouldn’t do this again? Of course you two could. He’s going to be around the castle for practically 3 months before he gets married to your sister. “Of course we can do this again!! We could do this every once in a while or even every night. Your marrying my sister in 3 month—“

“I’M NOT MARRYING HER!” Phinks shouts angrily, stopping in his tracks; His back facing you. You froze in place.

“W-why not… I don’t understand…”

Phinks chuckles darkly at that and he reaches to the front of his shirt, unbuttoning the collared shirt. “Of course you don’t…well I’m going to spell it out for you, sweetheart.”

With a flick of his wrist, Phinks pulls down the top half of his green tang suit down. You gasp a little as you see it. In the golden light of the sun, you see a big spider tattoo with the number 5 on it. He is…

Your throat and lips suddenly felt very dry as you attempted to speak. “Y-you’re part of the phantom troupe... So, you were after…”

“Yeah. I was after the Dragon Eye Collection this whole time. And now that we have it, I’m leaving and never coming back.”

You stood there frozen as you watched him finally turn around and walk past you. You stare at the ground unable to look at his face as he places a warm hand on your head.

“I was going to walk you back but I doubt that’s needed. So long, (y/n).”

And like that Phinks is gone. Yet you could still feel the strange warmth that his hand provided on the top of your head. You laugh for a second before hot bubbling tears cascade down your face. How strange this is. How strange it is that a man you’ve only known for two weeks has made you this happy in one night. More happy than you’ve ever been.

You curl down into your knees as you sob. It hurts. Your heart really hurts. You’ve never felt so lonely and empty before.

————💥✊🏻💥————

Phinks walks through the bamboo shoot forest outside of the capital city. He’s lost in his thoughts when suddenly his phone finally dings. He looks at it for a second before he finally chuckles.

“Too late for that now, boss.” He mumbles to himself, looking at the text written out.

Boss: Well based on what you told me, since she can take care of herself she is fine to stay, but she also can’t interfere with troupe activities. Bring her at the meeting tomorrow so the members can meet her. I’m honestly curious as to why you picked her.

It was honestly way too late. Maybe if he hadn’t told you right then and walked you back to the castle then, maybe you two would be together right now? No, it would be inevitable at that point. He would have to leave eventually and he highly doubts you would go with him. You're a princess after all and he’s just some pathetic street rat.

Phinks sighs and brushes his fingers through his hair. Man, you really drive him crazy.

“Phinks!!”

Phinks blinks as he hears a faint voice yelling in the distance.

“Phinks!”

There it is again. Wait, he recognizes that voice.

“(Y/n)!” Phinks run off in your direction as he sees you also alone in the bamboo woods with a backpack on your back. You smile, with your tears streak cheeks stretching, as you also run over to him. Clutching onto him like your life depended on it. Phinks finally smiled for the first time that morning as he heard you mumble 5 magical words into his jacket.

“Don’t leave me behind, idiot.”

Maybe, just maybe, hope wasn’t all lost for that spider.

Bonus:

“Crap another group of guards. This is the 10th search group out to look for you today.” Phinks mutters angrily, as you two hide from them in a bush. You sigh, kind of sad that you were making Phinks go through all this trouble for you.

“I’m sorry Phinks. Maybe I really should have stay—“

“Don’t you dare say that, sweetheart. Now that you're with me you aren’t ever going back.” You blink a couple of times before giggling and holding on to him tight.

“Thank you Phinks…”

“Hey Paul. Did you hear a giggle over there just now?”

You and Phinks freeze. Crap!

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #phinks magcub #phinks #phinks x reader #hxh scenarios

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