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seldomscilence16 · 8 months

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Whumptober day 12:

"I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?"

Red | insomnia | "im up, im up!"

Fandom: Voltron

Prompts used: All

Alrighty! Part 2 of day 3! Hehehehehe! (This turned Klancey on me so fast i didnt even see it coming…) As always the timeline is screwed, I am pickpocketing the moments I want and placing them on a conspiracy board to my aesthetic liking. This deals with the aftermath of isolation, and its effects- to the best of my limited knowledge- so please tread carefully. Would love to hear from y'all if you like it! Thanks!

Ps: Since alien measures of time are slightly longer I'm going off of someone elses calculations of what they may be. (Spiralled_Fury on A03) so a movement is 1.23 weeks which is roughly 8 days and something hours.

…

The observation deck is quiet and dark, nothing but that soothing blue glow of Altean technology- nothing like that yellow of-

The stars, foreign as they may be, are nice to look at. The castle hums, and Blue is present in his mind, and it's a calm night in the open space. In a few minutes he'll make his rounds, check on each inhabitant of the castle, each of whom he sent to bed about a varga- hour- ago. It's been about a movement- a week since the pod, and that extra day and a little that he was in it- since his… rescue. He's tried his best to return to what was, but sometimes he wonders if he even should.

He loves his team, he has been 'loverboy Lance' since practically birth. He cared so deeply about others, in detriment to himself typically, that even as a baby he knew when something was wrong with his family. They worried about him and his horrid taste in people, Hunk had barely made the cut and he's… well Hunk. But he just knows that if his Mama had been here watching their lives, he'd have gotten smacked upside the head, hugged to death, and whisked away with only the destruction her Chancla left behind them.

That other voice in his head however pipes up, reminding him that they are children in war, lost in space and far away from all they have ever known. This team of teenagers is being led by two young adults, with one actual adult juggling a million duties behind them. This is a battlefield, and in a castle meant to house so many many more, 7 people barely fill a corner of it.

Lance knows that they are good people. The thing that scared his family the most, was not that he could not discern the good and the bad people, but that he cared for them anyway like it would do something. (That's not true, he went to them because they gave him the time of day, you can only be used if you have a use after all…)

But with the team, he knew they were good people. But they were also tired, traumatized and thrust into the turbulence, trials and tribulations of war and adulthood in one go. Lance had chosen who he was going to be the minute they'd all met in the desert. For kids lost in space needed something to ground them, something to make them smile, and remind them to rest, and to reminisce on home and what they fight for. But that apparently also made him the least, it felt like he was always coming up short or failing all together. That what he was doing was nothing to the team.

He… didn't want to go back to that. But if he had to choose between that and the room, well… it wasn't a hard choice he supposed.

His knees creak as he stands, he has to consciously straighten his back and neck- he doesn't have to duck or crouch anymore, there's room Lance, remember- his legs wobble for only a second before he takes his first step. He reminds himself that that's okay, he was gone for… a long time, and he sat or crouched or layed for all of it, his legs needed time to adjust to walking again.

Bare feet pad slightly as he makes his familiar route. The Alteans are first, he can hear Corans snoring outside his door, and a small peek shows Allura curled up with the mice slumbering in her hair, her brow is relaxed and form loose, she needed the rest. Shiro is next, and he frowns at his leader's tense form, fist clenched in his sheets. He leans against the doorway, wracking his brain for a tune, and hums the first one he thinks of softly. He doesn't know why it works, why Shiro's whole form melts into the bed after a few moments of it, but he won't complain either, Shiro deserved good sleep.

Hunk is next, and like Coran he can hear his snores through the door, though a deeper timbre and slightly quieter. He wants to peek in but Hunk is a light sleeper so he allows himself a few moments to listen before moving to Pidges room. The little gremlin is stubborn and Lance always has to prepare for the possibility of her being awake, so he braces himself as he opens her door. Her breaths are soft and though he has to maneuver around her heaps of who knows what, he finally finds her sprawled like a broken starfish in her bed, glasses askew and laptop haphazardly on her lap. He smiles at the drool at the corner of her mouth and shakes his head, carefully slipping off her glasses and placing them atop her laptop on her side table. He pulls the covers over her as she curls up on her side and lingers for only a moment, he still has one more person to check on.

Keith's room is empty, two warring feelings hit him at once- a wave of panic and a tired sigh of exasperation. He makes his way to the training room, hearing the sounds of the gladiator from down the hall. He's too tired to interrupt this time round, Keith's chest is heaving so he'll probably be done soon anyway. He leans against the doorway watching mullet maneuver around the sparring section, more aggression than tact in his movements than usual, and finds his eyes feeling heavy.

It's not a new feeling, he's felt strangely heavy for a while now despite his ribs doing their best at being one of those wooden frogs that you can make croak. He's only been able to get a few hours in this week, not that the team knows, or they haven't said anything. But everytime he closes his eyes…

The walls glow yellow and seem to creep closer every time he blinks, but if he doesn't blood starts to seep from the crevices he could never peel open and flood the room. He'll float there, eyes unblinking as he screams but no sound reaches his ears. The not bread and the not water dance a tango in front of him before launching down his throat as pain erupts from his very bones and his head expLOADS-

"LANCE!"

"I'm up, I'm up!" He flails, wobbles backwards, falls-

Finds himself looking into Keith's frazzled eyes as the sweaty samurai holds him to his tense form. The image and sensations are too real, it was just a dream, he must have dozed off, he's fine, Keith is here and he's fine.

"Sorry, I uh… was here to make you sleep ha…" Lance's body refuses to cooperate, but Keith seems to read him well enough, moving them until they're both simply sitting in the entrance.

"You were… uh, you didn't look er no, I mean that it just seemed like something was freaking you out." Keith to his part, is even more awkward than Lance, but he's also actively working his sentences through so that's something.

"Oh yeah… I'm fine, sorry." Lance looks away, rubbing at his face to stave off what he saw.

"You look exhausted, I thought you were already in bed. What are you doing up again?" Keith ducks his head to see his face, sweaty mullet hanging in a scraggly mess.

"I look awesome." Lance scoffs halfheartedly, definitely not saying what he was going to say because 'I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?' Would not go over well.

"What!? What do you mean days??"

Oh well, maybe he's more tired than he thought. Lance laughs stiffly, moving to stand, but only accomplishing a weird half crawl wobble before Keith moves to keep him in place, they naturally fall into a tuffle because like hell is Lance going to have this conversation when hes so artfully avoided it and no ones brought it up and everything is FINE!

And he's pinned.

Keith is slightly winded- Lance's boney knees had a few purposes thank you- but he has Lance's wrists pinned on either side of his head, and legs pinning the rest of him in an annoyingly cool move that Lance will be learning later. But there's no triumphant grin or banter, instead worry still clouds his expression.

"Have you slept at all since you've… been back?" He- like everyone on this ship- have refused to really bring up what went down. And it's not like Lance did either! But he's scared still, of things that happen again before his eyes. Keith's finger presses gently on his cheek, turning Lance's teary eyes towards him once again. "Talk to me, Sharpshooter."

And Lance's soul, tired and weary, breaks open like a flood gate. Tears leaked down his cheeks- warm, they were always so warm against his cold skin- and he trembles- shivers, it was cold there, he was so cold.

"I'm scared." He utters the words like a secret, and really it is one. Even if they saw him broken and at the end of his rope, Lance had tried so hard to return to his role when he got back, to be useful… “I don’t want to go back Keith.”

“We will never let that happen! That guy isn’t going to hurt anyone ever again, and I promise to keep anyone else from doing it too!” Keith’s adamant response and determined eyes are enough to make him sob again, Keith falters wiping some of the tears absentmindedly. “What did I miss?”

“I don’t,” he swallows thickly, trying to get his thoughts in order, “want to be the seventh wheel anymore. The least. I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t-” he chokes on another sob and Lance is hurriedly pulled into a warm embrace.

He’s startled for only a moment before heat chases away his cold, and safety wraps around him, and he burrows into it, hands gripping tightly around shoulders, afraid the moment will end too soon.

“I’m sorry we made you feel that way. We were an absolute mess without you Lance, you have no idea how lost we were, I think I was literally ready to kill one of them. And I wasn’t alone in the sentiment. We can’t do this without you, and I don’t think we’d want to either.”

“I think,” he sniffles, voice muffled in Keith’s chest, “that’s the most I’ve heard you say at once in a while.” He squeezes tighter, voice softer, “thank you.”

“I don’t know exactly what you went through, but I’m here if you need anything. And the team will be too, I’ll make sure of it okay?” Lance is hesitant in his nod, worry still deep in his chest. “Alright dork, movie night on the couch. If you’re gonna be awake so am I.”

Keith stands and Lance yelps as he’s lifted, gripping Keith’s throat tight enough to choke. His face burns a brilliant shade of red to match his swollen eyes no doubt, and he can only give Keith’s little grin a petulant look.

“I can walk.”

“You could.” Keith agrees as he turns and starts the journey towards the common room.

Lance watches him as they walk, aware of how out of character this was for them, How much Keith surprised him. He even worries this is a dream, that he’ll wake up alone in that cold dark room, or worse yet, that something terrible will happen next and the team will- but Lance doesn’t think even his mind could imagine these strong arms and abnormally warm chest. He’s set down on the couch, his fingers tighten on Keith’s shirt unconsciously.

“I’m staying, I promise.”

And that meant more than Keith will ever know.

<<Prev

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peridot-dreams · 3 years

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beautiful people | shawn mendes

Shawn sees a familiar face at the awards show, and learns the value of realness.

The setting sun leaves the Hollywood sky pink and full of possibilities. Shawn finds himself looking out the window at it, still in a daze after the events that had unfolded that day. He’d won several awards for a song he was proud of. He thinks of the look on his parents’ faces in the audience when his name was announced and smiles. That’s who I do this all for, he thinks to himself.

His limousine rolls up the venue. It’s already teeming with people, Lamborghinis, and cameras. Shawn is used to such commotion, but the second he opens the car door, he’s bombarded with excessive noise - noise so loud that he can barely hear himself think.

He’s still riding his post-awards high when he walks in, still dressed in the same red carpet outfit as before. He has a girl on his arm, but not by choice - rather, an unfortunate PR stunt planned terribly and executed even worse. He greets his celebrity friends as he passes by, offering a small smile and a thank you when they congratulate him on his win.

He’s just about to ask the girl on his arm if she’d like to come with him to the drink bar when he sees a flash of silver in the corner of his eye. Shawn realizes who had just walked past him; he feels his heart began to pound in his chest and his breathing gets shallow. “Sorry, can I go to the bathroom?” he tells the girl on his arm, not bothering to wait for a response. He detaches himself and follows the silver blur, around a corner and into a dark hallway.

The silver blur is standing in the dark, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. Shawn sighs and takes in the sight: the silver dress on her is absolutely stunning. Her hair and her makeup is perfect; he feels lost in her presence, stunned by her beauty. He’s never seen her like this, and it only adds to the pain of it all. His mother had once said that losing a best friend is worse than a break up and right now he completely understands what his mother meant.

“Y/N,” he breathes. When she looks up, he feels like running away - she’s looking at him as if he’s the dirt under her silver heels. He wishes she would stop, that she would run to him and hug him and make everything alright between them again. She’s standing right in front of him but he misses her, misses everything about their friendship and support for each other.

“What do you want, Mendes?” she mutters under her breath. She turns her attention back to her phone, tapping her toe incessantly. Shawn can’t stand the sound of her heel hitting the ground because he remembers that she tends to fidget when she’s upset; the clacking sound is only a reminder of their friendship that had crashed and burned for reasons Shawn still fails to understand.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Shawn blurts out. “I don’t get it, Y/N. We used to be best friends, and one day you just started hating me and I still don’t understand why.”

“Because,” Y/N spits, shoving her phone into her bag. “Because you’re like them now.”

“Who’s ‘them’?”

“All those fake people out there!” Y/N exclaims, her eyes glancing over to the party-goers with a disgusted look plastered on her face. Shawn feels her gaze coming back to him, judging and critical. He feels like he could wither under her stare like a plant in a drought. “Shawn, you’ve changed. You used to be so down to earth, so genuine, but now you’re caught up in the money and fame and corporate bullshit.”

“Am not!” Shawn crosses his arms as he unconsciously clenches his teeth. “That’s such bull-”

“Shawn, you’re the epitome of fake. You’re in a fucking PR relationship.”

“W-What-”

“Don’t even try to argue. It’s so obvious and even your fans know what’s going on.”

Shawn closes his eyes. He wishes that he could argue with her, but arguing in the dark hallway outside of an after party wasn’t the ideal setting to do so. From the outside looking in, he knows it looks like he’s changed but he needs her to know that it’s not true. He needs his best friend back in his life again.

“Look,” Shawn speaks, taking a deep breath. “Let’s ditch this party. I know you don’t like these kinds of events anyway, so I don’t even know why you’re here…”

“My manager made me come.”

“Right. Whatever, let’s just sneak out. Let’s hang out like we used to, okay? I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t you need to get back to fake-dating your ‘girlfriend’?” Y/N snaps, giving Shawn the most sarcastic air quotes she can muster.

“No, fuck that,” he says. Against his better judgment, he takes her hand in his. He’s relieved when she doesn’t try to yank her hand back. “Let’s just go.”

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Thirty minutes later, Shawn finds himself sitting across from Y/N at a dingy old diner on the other side of Hollywood. He watches as she twirls the straw in her chocolate milkshake. She hasn’t said more than three words to him since they left the party, and Shawn feels like trying to salvage their friendship is pointless at this point. Shawn knew from their now-dead friendship that Y/N was a champion at holding grudges - he just never expected to find himself at the other end of one.

“So how’ve you been?” Shawn asks softly. He wants to kick himself for how awkward and nervous he sounds, but he hopes that Y/N will take his nerves as a sign of his genuine interest in rekindling their friendship.

“Fine,” she mumbles. She takes a tiny sip of her chocolate shake. “Slow year.”

Shawn knows that isn’t true. He Googles her name every few weeks and watches every single interview she appears in on YouTube. Y/N’s acting career had taken off in the past few years, and she’d been getting tons of lead roles in TV shows and movies lately. He always gets a pang of jealousy in the pit of his stomach when he sees pictures of her with friends on Instagram, because he knows full well that it could have been him travelling the world with her, experiencing new things with her.

He doesn’t tell her that he’s been keeping tabs on her. “Yeah,” Shawn mutters. “Okay.”

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. It doesn’t help that the diner is completely empty, save for the old man who owns it and is busy complaining about how “millenials are killing the restaurant business” under his breath. Shawn tries to focus on the owner’s mutterings, desperately wanting to think about something other than the fact that Y/N is totally not into him or the conversation that he’s been trying to keep going.

“I don’t hate you, by the way.”

Shawn’s head snaps up to look at her, eyes wide with shock. “Well, you stopped talking to me out of the blue, so I just assumed you did.”

“Well, I don’t.” She stops twirling her milkshake straw and drops her hands into her lap. She meets his gaze, eyes still hard and lips pressed together in a straight line. “You’ve just...changed.”

“I think we’ve both changed.”

“No.” She shakes her head, letting out an indignant laugh. Shawn winces at the sharpness of her tone. “You’re the one who started doing brand deals, ripping off fans with overpriced tickets and merch, signing PR contracts and betraying your fans…”

“Y/N.” Shawn’s hands are starting to shake; he rubs his thighs over his jeans in an attempt to calm himself down. Her words are cutting deeper than a knife; he can barely stand it.

“You’ve completely betrayed your fans, Shawn. You’ve sold them out to every company that has approached you, taken advantage of their trust. Damn it Shawn, you’re even endorsing overpriced water now, like how stupid is-”

“That wasn’t fucking me!” Shawn slams his hand on the table. The old man stops mumbling about millenials and looks in fear at the angry boy. Y/N is barely fazed, her hard glare still targeting Shawn.

“Oh really?” She narrows her eyes at him. “‘Cause your ass is everywhere these days, every time I turn on the TV-”

“Do you remember how my career started?”

Y/N stops for a second, but rolls her eyes immediately after. “Yeah, at some overpriced convention marketed towards prepubescent teenagers.”

“Before MAGCON,” Shawn interrupts. His eyes plead with her to understand, to see where he’s coming from. “I was just a kid, sitting in my room with a guitar. Singing cover songs and making six second videos even though no one was listening. Because I felt like it. Because it made me happy.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“Yeah. That’s the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.” A sigh leaves Shawn’s mouth; his eyes drop to his lap as he tries to calm his shaking hands and voice. He’s never felt so heated in his life, like every emotion is about to burst out of his chest. “And then everything just took off and suddenly I was signing with a record label and being thrust into the public eye. I was just a small town kid from Canada, but suddenly people were starting to expect things from me.”

“Shawn-”

“No, please. Hear me out.” The suit on his body was tailored to be comfortable, but in the heat of his rant it feels like it’s suffocating him. “It all went so fast. It was just one song after another and interviews and TV shows and concerts and tours. Everything was just going by so fast and every day, I lost a piece of myself. I was on autopilot, and my team was just signing me up for everything and I would let myself be led by them. Even now, I just sign contracts without thinking and allow myself to be molded by people who only care about money.”

“Shawn, why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” Y/N’s eyes are soft now. She suddenly notices how tired he looks under the makeup that he was forced to wear to the awards event: his sunken eyes, the dark bags under them, the lines that furrowed into his skin between his eyebrows. He looks like he’s barely hanging on to life, like the walls are caving in and he’s been trying to hold them up. She wishes she would have noticed earlier how lifeless he looks. “We were best friends, you could have told me about this.”

“Because,” Shawn starts, holding back the sob forcing itself up his throat. “I can’t ever tell anyone because I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I’m grateful, I really am...I’m lucky to have my passion be my career. But I’m so tired, Y/N. I just want to go back to being that kid in his bedroom, playing guitar because he feels like it, not because he signed a contract or because someone else wants him to.” He closes his eyes, sighing, letting his head fall back slightly. He reminds himself to relax his shoulders and take deep breaths. “When I’m on stage, I get to go back to being happy for just a moment. I get to forget about everyone’s expectations, about contracts and brand deals and PR and all the bullshit. I get to be me. Completely free.”

She’s stunned and he knows it. He’s just unloaded all of the burdens he’s been carrying; Shawn doesn’t know how Y/N is going to react, but he feels lighter, he feels better. He just hopes, so desperately, that she’ll understand his brokenness and the wreckage that has been left in his mind as a result of the stress and anxiety of the last few years. He hopes that she’ll understand him for what he is, not what he appears to be.

“So I haven’t changed, Y/N. I’m not like them; I’m like you. Money and fame, it’s just not who we are.”

“Shawn, I’m so sorry.” Her tear-filled eyes move in a frenzy as she realizes the falsity of her words and accusations. “I should have realized that you felt this way and that you were struggling. I’m so sorry for severing our friendship and for not knowing what was going on.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I just…”

Shawn groans as he sees the group of people that have congregated outside the windows of the diner. They both gaze into the parking lot, bombarded by bright flashes and deafened by the sound of cameras shuttering.

“Fuck. It’s the paps.” Shawn groans again, head rolling back in frustration. “How did they find us?”

“They were following your famous ass,” Y/N says, laughing. Shawn smiles; he resists the urge to point out that she’s famous too, and has more followers than him on Instagram.

“Should we leave?” Shawn asks.

“Hell no. They want pics, let’s give them pics.” Shawn watches in awe as Y/N stands up on her seat despite the loud protesting of the owner. She starts waving at them crazily, her peace signs occasionally replaced by a middle finger.

“Fuck you!” she yells in between her laughs. Shawn grins; he finds himself copying her and standing on his own seat. He starts waving at the cameras, reveling in the flashes and dancing like an idiot to the music inside his head.

“Fuck you!” he yells. He’s never felt so liberated in his entire life. He starts posing with her, each pose more ridiculous than the prior. They pretend to tango on the table, screaming when they nearly topple over the edges. He twirls her around, smile growing bigger and bigger with each giggle that leaves her mouth. “It’s been two years and you still suck at dancing,” he cackles. She pretends to gasp, then sticks her tongue out at him and at the paps outside.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, his lips are on hers. She doesn’t kiss back at first, shocked, but when Shawn is about to pull away he feels her hands on the back of his head pulling him closer. Suddenly, there’s nothing else in the entire world besides her; they’re not standing on top of a diner table anymore. It’s like they’re floating and Shawn’s body is leaning into hers and he’s never felt so complete before. The smell of her conditioner makes him forget his own name and he realizes that her lips taste like chocolate and friends aren’t supposed to know how each other taste but he doesn’t care because it’s her and it’s always been her.

When they finally pull away, Shawn’s gasping for breath and Y/N’s eyes are as wide as saucers as she realizes what has just happened. “S-Shawn. Your PR contract…”

“Fuck the PR contract. Let’s give the world something real.” And their lips connect again, for the paparazzi cameras and the whole world to see.

#shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes imagine #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you

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navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

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“Hi ma’am. Uh—I’m looking for Jethro Gibbs?” The 15 years old boy asked to Ellie Bishop. Who’s that kid? She’s never seen him before, or heard her boss talked about a teenager. And she doesn’t recall how it could be link to any case.

“You are?” She asked, intrigued.

“It’s—personal,” the teenager said. Now, she’s even more intrigued. If he had blue eyes, she’d have asked herself if he shared DNA with her boss.

“I’m gonna call him but I just need your name,” she said, grabbing her phone.

“Harry! What are you doing here, bud?” Gibbs approached the teenager and Harry immediately ran into his arms. Gibbs hugged him tight.

“Can I stay with you today?”

“I—“ Gibbs wanted to tell him that he was working. But he was the sad eyes on Harry’s face. The kid has been though a lot lately, he can’t tell him no. “Let him call your mum, okay?”

Gibbs stood aside the bullpen while he called you, Harry was right next to him and the rest of the team came back. Tony and McGee stood next to Ellie, following where her eyes were watching. “Who’s that kid?” Tony asked first.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Bishop answered.

While on the phone, they saw their boss smiling. A real smile. And then he put his hands in Harry’s curly hair.

“Does Gibbs has a kid we don’t know about?” Tim asked.

“He has green eyes,” Bishop stated.

“So? Do I look like my father?” Tony said, without thinking. Tim and Ellie turned their heads to look at their coworker. “Yeah, bad example, but you get the point.”

Right after Tony’s sentence, Gibbs hang up. The three agents pretended to be occupied at their own desk. Their boss had his arm around Harry’s shoulders as they came back to the bullpen. “Harry is going to be our honorary agent for the day. This is Tim, Tony and Ellie,”

“Hi,” Harry shyly waved at them.

“Hello Honorary agent Harry,” Tony stood up to check the teenager’s hand. “And he is?” Tony asked his boss.

“None of your business,” Gibbs simply answered. Tony growled, unhappy about not having an answer. “Update,”

While the team updated Gibbs on the case and what they found, Harry stayed really close to the boss. Gibbs always had a protective and special warmth towards kids and teenagers, but there was something special there. Tony promised himself to find what was the relationship there, by the end of the day.

Abby knew Gibbs would entered her lab any minute, but he never expected him to come in with a very young special agent. “Abby, Harry. Harry, Abby. Lab tech,” Gibbs said, and both Harry and Abby waved at each other. “What you got, Abs?”

“Many questions,” she said, looking at the teenager’s green eyes.

“Unhappy look,” Harry whispered to her, looking at Gibbs that was standing right behind her, waiting for her report.

“We call it the Gibbs stare, here,” she quickly said, before telling her boss what we wanted to know.

Harry was impressed. We knew things about Gibbs’ job, just like he knows what yours, since you’re a cop too. But what Abby is doing is very impressive to him, he would love to her multiple questions. “Can I stay with her?” Harry asked Gibbs, as they were about to leave the lab.

Jethro definitely hates how weak he can be with Harry. “Okay but a few rules,” Abby and Harry listened carefully, “First, Abby, do not interrogate him. And do not show him weird things his mother can be mad about. And you, bud,” Gibbs took a few steps closer to Harry, “enjoy your day, okay? I’ll come get you for lunch,” Gibbs kissed Harry’s forehead and left.

Abby didn’t waste any time, “Okay, bud,”

“Nope. Only Jethro calls me that. I hate it, but it’s an habit now,”

“Fine. Who are you to my boss?”

“Stepson, I guess. I think?—I’m not sure. Jethro and mum has—“ Harry stopped in the middle on the sentence and turned around. “God, I thought he was standing behind,” he said.

“Does he do that outside of work, too?” Abby asked, super exciting about knowing personal things.

“Yeah, it’s like he has a detector every time we say his name,”

“Today’s going to be so fun!”

Harry has never been into sciences at school, he’s more into languages and literature, just like his father. But Abby Sciuto made it so fun that his curiosity was exploding. Pretty much like the experience he was doing. “What did I do wrong?” Harry said, frustrated about failing.

“You took this,” Abby said, showing a product, “instead of that,” she showed another product.

“Damn!” Harry said. And of course, Gibbs has entered the lab at the very same moment. He extended his hand to his stepson, “do we have to do it even when Joe’s not around?” Harry complained. “I’m not a kid anymore,”

“Fine, but don’t tell your mother. And—what happened here? A tornado?” Gibbs asked, looking at the mess.

“I’m definitely not good at sciences,”

“You just need a good teacher, sweetie,” Abby said. “You can come around when you need help, if your—stepdad is okay,” Abby grinned at Gibbs, happy to know that info.

“What happened in that lab—better stay in that lab,” Gibbs said, “Hungry, bud?”

Gibbs and Harry went to the diner for lunch. “Text your mum, Harry. She’s worried,”

“Dad broke up with Lindsay. He wants me to come back and live with him again,”

“Is that what you want?”

“No—yes—maybe. I don’t know,”

“Hey, whatever you want to do, your parents will agree to it. All they want is for you to be happy, wherever you are,”

“Even if it’s in Australia?” Gibbs looked at Harry, confused. Last he knew, your ex husband is living in California. “Dad had a job offer in Sydney, he said yes. And he’s leaving next month,”

“If you want to go with him, do it,”

“How would you feel about it, J?”

“It doesn’t mat—“

“It matters to me. You’ve been in my life for almost ten years now. At some points, you were more a dad to me than Dad was. And you’re my baby brother’s father. I care about you, and I care about what you think,”

This is typically what Gibbs doesn’t like. He hates that kind of conversation, he hates to let people know how he feels and what he thinks. But if someone deserves to know a little about it, it’s definitely Harry.

“For me, there’s no difference between you and your brother— Family’s more than DNA. It’s about people who care and take care of each other.”

“Stop with those sentences all made up! Tell me how you’d feel if I move to Australia,”

Gibbs chuckled. The shy little boy he met 8 years ago was now becoming a confident young man. “I’ll miss you, okay? Just like I missed when you left for California! Are you happy now?”

“No! I’ll be happy when you and mum stop acting like children, and finally give Joe a stable family,”

“Your mum and I are dysfunctional, but we work that way. Did Joe tell you something?”

“He’s 5 and he wants what any other 5 years old want; he wants to live with his mother and his father, 24/7. In the same household,”

“With his big brother too, right?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point,”

After a blank during which Gibbs intensely stared at Harry, “I didn’t see you grow up. I’m proud of the young man you’re becoming,”

Harry smiled, “Say it,”

“What?” Gibbs asked, his mouth full of his burger.

“You know it! Say it,”

“Nope,”

“Why? Why is it so hard?” Harry paused. “Look— it can be easy when it’s true. I love you, dad.”

Harry called Gibbs “dad” occasionally. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. Jethro remembered the first time he heard it from him and the first Joe said it. He felt the same for both. That’s how he knew there was so difference between his real son and his stepson. They are both his sons.

“I love you,” Gibbs mumbled, with French fries in his mouth.

“Didn’t understand. What did you say?”

Gibbs swallowed. “I love you, son! Okay? You happy? Can I eat in silence now?”

“Yes, you can,” Harry proudly smiled.

In the afternoon, Harry stayed with Gibbs until the agent had no choice but to go on a run for the case. Gibbs let his stepson with Ducky. The doc showed Harry around, avoiding the autopsy and corpses obviously. By the end of the day, Ducky and Harry were playing chess at Gibbs’ desk, waiting for everyone to come back. But when they heard the elevator opening, here you were, with Joe in your arms. The little boy got down and ran to his brother as soon as he saw him. You hugged your son tight. “How are you, baby?” You asked.

“I’m good mum,” he smiled and kissed you on the cheek. “I’m beating Ducky,”

“Not yet, young man,” Ducky stood and hugged you. “How’s my favorite Gibbs?” He asked to Joe, who was holding onto his brother like a koala bear.

“Say hi to Ducky, sweetheart,” you told your youngest son and the little boy waved at the doc. Ducky and Harry sat back in their chairs, Joe was still holding Harry and you sat on Jethro’s desk.

“Where’s J?” You asked.

“Followed a lead, he should be back soon,”

The four of you stayed together, talking about everything and nothing until the elevator opened again. This time, it was Gibbs with his team. As soon as Joe saw his dad, he jumped from his brother’s lap and ran into Gibbs’ arm. “Hey baby,”

Tony, Tim and Ellie were more confused than they were hours ago when they met Harry. Ducky couldn’t help but smiling big. Before anyone could say anything, Abby appeared with Jimmy in the bullpen. The entire team was there. “How’d it go?” She asked.

The team explained that it led to nowhere, and they had to go back to the beginning on that case. While they did that, Jethro stole you a quick kiss, and he whispered something in Harry’s ears. “Checkmate!” Your son told Ducky as he made his final move.

“That’s cheating,” Ducky said.

“Nope. Dad and I share one brain,”

When the word “dad” was heard in the bullpen, everyone stopped talking and turned like one man towards Gibbs and you. Your boyfriend laughed, and moved Joe on his back, “Hang on Monkey!” He said.

“Can we go to McDonald’s?” The little boy asked.

“Nope,” “yes!” Gibbs and you answered at the same time. Jethro looked at you, but you were looking at Harry with a smile. “Boys!” You said.

In a second, Joe was tickling his father in the neck, and Harry was searching for his car keys while you were holding his arms. When your oldest found the keys, he handed them to you and the three of you ran to the elevator. “Team work!” You high five the boys.

Gibbs’ team was looking at him, more confused than they have never been in their life. Their boss laughed and walked towards the elevator and his family, “Good night everyone!”

#leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #gibbs #gibbs x reader #ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #tony dinozzo #tim mcgee #ellie bishop #abby sciuto #ducky mallard #jimmy palmer

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years

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Bad boys bring Heaven to you | Mark Lee

▸ Mark Lee x reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, demon au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 4/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers

Summary: He was your guardian angel and your dark desires changed him for the creature that he is now. He gave you a baby so he can make sure that you’re going to be together forever, but you don’t want to keep it.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: Rough sex, vanilla sex, a lot of sex will happen I’m telling you, overstimulation, pregnancy, filthy, minor/major(?) character killings, major character death, possessive behaviour, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex hence the pregnancy, mention of abortion, hospital scenes,

A/N: FILTH. But I lessen the smut scenes (just a bit hehe) Words in Italics are Mark’s thoughts.

Taglist: (if I happen to forgot you, I’m sorry! But these names are on my list. Thank you!) @huangxx @floweringtheflowers @minejungwoo @swimmingkpopblog @luvlyjaemin @capablemork8299 @jaehyunoos @neospirited @shanghai-lu @jenotation @strawberrytyong @lilminyoongles @cottonmyeonbby @neosaniuniverse @simp4mk @jaejaenim @junglewoos @sunshineleedonghyuck

I used to be your guardian angel, but being a demon is the only way that I can be with you.

Guard and protect. Those are the only things that I should be doing as I stay by your side until your dying breath. Guard your heart so you could make the right decisions in life and help you with your choices. Protect you from all kinds of harm so you can live a long happy life until your time finally comes.

You just turned ten years old when you were assigned to me, I just turned thirteen at that time. I even sang you a happy birthday together with the others during your celebration. I was beside you when you blew the candle and listened to your wish. From there on it’s always been you and me, we pretty much grew up together.

I guide you with your decisions every day, protect you inside and outside your home, and listen to your prayers. Oh, I love to listen to your voice whenever you pray. It calms me and your prayers are good proof that I’m doing a great job as your guardian angel.

But as we grow up, you started making impulsive decisions that I don’t have control with. You changed during your teenage years, you no longer pray and let me hear the sound of your prayers anymore. I’m afraid you will no longer need me and that they will assign me to a new human after a few years.

When you were seventeen, you almost lost your virginity to someone who’s not worthy. I’m sorry but I have to meddle with that so I stopped it and gave the guy a piercing headache. I feel sorry for what I’ve done, truly. But he doesn’t deserve you.

I feel bad about what I did so I seek guidance from my senior angel, Doyoung. I told him everything that I felt the moment I saw the guy enter your room and watch him kiss you and put his hands around your body. I told Doyoung that for the first time, I hated your smile because you like what the guy is doing to you.

Do you know what Doyoung told me? He said that I’m starting to be unholy and have feelings for you.

And it’s true. I’m starting to be more and more ungodly as I continue to watch you touch yourself every night with your fingers inside you, and instead of prayers, I hear moans from you every night. You started to have perverted desires which I can’t help you with because I’m an angel. I’m completely aware that I’m failing with my mission and scared to face my senior angels and keep me away from you.

If I lose you, I will be meaningless.

I sold my soul to the devil so I can be with you and follow you to a path full of desires.

It’s still the same. I’m still me but my job has no rules now and I can do whatever that pleases me to keep you in my life. Over the years of being a demon, I watch you now in a very different way. I watch you shower and get dressed, I watch you touch yourself with legs wide open as I masturbate beside you, I possessed every guy you have sex with and we always have a great time.

But I want more than this.

For many years, you’ve already mastered the art of living alone and you are your own companion. Alone in the morning, alone at night. It is a lonely and tiring life, but still, you find comfort in being just with yourself.

Eating dinner alone in a fast food restaurant near your apartment has been your daily routine since the day you’ve landed the job of being a real estate agent away from home. Selling houses left and right, having the luxury and time to flirt and enjoy one night stands, earning buckets and buckets of money, but still, you feel alone and incomplete.

As you were just about to start to dig in, your phone rang, it was your boss calling about 127 House. The haunted house that’s been unoccupied for almost three years now and has been threatened to be taken down tomorrow and it’s part of your job to save it.

“Someone is finally interested, were going to meet him at the office tomorrow. My assistant says it’s an anonymous buyer and we just have to wait for tomorrow to talk things out” he explains excitedly. The sound of his voice was a little loud on the phone.

“This is great news” you answered calmly, “I love that house thankfully were saving it. Have your assistant send me the details for tomorrow- Yeah, thank you!”

One of the many good things that you love about your job, is the happiness that comes with it when a house can be a home after being empty and cold for years. Haunted or not, just like a normal house, the 127 House deserves to be a home for a family.

After having dinner alone, you quickly reviewed some of the contracts for the anonymous client for tomorrow, reviewing your presentation one last time and finally letting out a big sigh, patting yourself on the shoulder, telling yourself ‘good job.’ It would be so great if someone can really say it in front of your face and actually getting a pat on the shoulder.

Thankful nonetheless because finally you have time for yourself and reward yourself with a nice shower. But even during your shower, you were spaced out and you kept thinking how it’s actually a miracle that the 127 House got a buyer a day before it’s going to be taken down. The house was beautiful, haunted but beautiful. It would be such a waste if it wasn’t given a second chance.

“Oh fuck” you cursed when you realized you put too much soap on your body. As you were busy rinsing all the soap from your body, down to your legs until your toes, when you felt something touch your wet hair, and you turned around to see if something fell off from your rack but there's nothing, weird. You shrugged it off and continue rinsing your soapy skin, and finally putting shampoo on your hair. You close your eyes and massage your scalp, you love how the hot water feels against your skin and how it calms your nerves. Then again, you felt something touch your skin. But this time it ran up and down your slit and you’re sure it's not the hot water.

Quickly you ended your peaceful shower, reached for your towel, and prepare yourself for bed. Maybe it was hot water after all and you were just being paranoid and tired from work. The comfort your bed provides felt even more relaxing as you entertain yourself and scroll through Twitter for a moment, reading updates and seeing different trends then an interesting small clip of porn catches your attention. You watch it like a hawk and allow yourself to be aroused and turned on. Satisfied with the porn you just watched, you removed your shorts and underwear leaving only your thin oversized shirt, and proceed to touch yourself freely.

Sucking your point and middle finger, you played with your slit with your wet fingers running it up and down until you get wet real good. Teasing yourself before you proceed on putting it inside, you shamelessly spread your legs wider lifting your shirt so you could pinch your nipples while you make yourself feel good down there.

“Yes, baby”

You heard someone talk near you but there’s no one in the room but you. You live alone. Not bothering about it anymore, you closed your eyes again and continue touching yourself. “Ohhh baby” you moan and feed your imagination that someone is making you feel good right now. You part your mouth and let out soft moans, kicking your blanket until it falls.

“Open your eyes”

“Ow” you suddenly felt something pinched your right nipple. You opened your eyes and stopped what you’re doing because the creepy things that are happening tonight are getting out of hand. You see a shadow of someone seated right beside you and you quickly grabbed anything you could cover your legs with for you feel so exposed in front of a stranger who could be a rapist.

“Are you getting shy? Baby?”

You open your lampshade with a slight panic and you see lustful eyes looking deep into yours. Whoever this person is, he looked angelic but what he’s doing right now says otherwise. “We can talk after we fuck. Can you remove your shirt?” his surprisingly sexy voice made you gave in and followed what he asked for. “Don’t be scared, alright?” he added.

With nervous hands, you nod and sat up immediately to remove your shirt and make yourself naked in front of the handsome stranger. Suddenly, he’s right beside you, naked and arms pillowing his head showing off his arms, cock hard already. Is this a dream? This has to be.

“I’m Mark. How do you want this? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me?” he asked confidently with a teasing smirk.

“I fuck you” you said, since he looks so handsome laying in bed like that, the urge to ride your imaginary man is growing and growing and it’s making you hornier. He’s like a magnet that invites you to straddle him and ride him until he's gone and you can finally rest.

“I don’t think so” he got up from his comfortable position and kissed your neck wildly holding your shoulders as he kisses you down to the mattress “Do you know what I am? Hmm?” his kisses were addicting and it’s making you weak like he’s sucking all your energy. He slaps your ass deliciously when you don’t answer him, the sting stayed on your right ass cheek for a few seconds.

“A man from my dream?” you answered weakly.

“Correct. And I’m a demon” the last word made you shiver and you tried to push him away, even tried kicking him but it’s useless. “What’s wrong? You weren’t like this when you were moaning just a few minutes ago” his deep voice scares the shit out of you but it makes you horny at the same time. This isn’t right. To your surprise, he licks a long stripe on your neck and told you, “You’re mine”

He flips you on the mattress pinning your arms down with a force. “Close your legs tightly and don’t fucking move, I’m going to play with you” you closed your legs and you feel him massage your ass cheeks telling you how they’re perfectly soft and bouncy, teasing your cunt from behind and licking it until he’s satisfied and happy on how wet you are.

The position Mark put you in, made you even more harder to breathe and you can’t move for your own liking. You feel him push his cock without caution, fucking you with closed legs as he loses his mind with how good you feel around him. You, on the other hand, is a moaning mess. Gasping and breathing much air for your life as you let the demon fuck you quick and rough. Mark put his entire weight on your back, resting his left cheek on your face, thrusting in your tight cunt as you whimper and grunt under him.

“Oh baby, does it hurt?” he felt you nod your head and flinch whenever he gave you sharp thrusts. “Shhh baby, I don’t care. It feels good around me” he said and reached for your lips for a soft kiss. The handsome demon continued giving you hard and piercing thrust until he came inside you, “Now slowly spread your legs” you followed him weakly and you wished you didn’t.

Spreading your legs for him just gave him a new angle that made you more sensitive. Unconsciously, you arched your back for him now making the demon happy and smirk as he pounds you from behind, “you look so hot from up here, I might get you pregnant” you moan out how good he feels and grip the sheets on your bed. By this time only the sheets and the mattress can understand how intense the sex is.

He cupped your boobs from behind with both hands, still fucking you good but even deeper this time. “Oh please, this is too much” you cry out and beg but he never listens, he just gives you low chuckles. Low devilish chuckles.

When he finally stopped the good torture, you thought that was it, but you’re wrong. He stopped for a second and made you kneel against his chest and put his middle and point finger in your mouth and coat it with your spit, “tell me Y/n, do you want a baby? boy or a girl?” he removed his fingers and put it on your clit, drawing circles slowly as he enjoys listening to your whimpers while waiting for your answer.

“A boy” you gasp sharply as you try your best to answer. His fingers are making you weak that you’re legs are already giving up, you just want to lay flat on the mattress. He put the same fingers again in your mouth, letting you taste your pussy juices.

“Great choice. Want me to cum inside you, huh” you nod at him not because you want it, but you just want to satisfy the demon and feel him pound against you deliciously again. He can’t actually plant a baby inside you, right? This is a dream.

He pushed you on the bed and flipped you again, “Please be gentle, I beg you you’re so big” you reached for Mark’s face hoping that he has even a small ounce of mercy for you. Being underneath him like this made you realized that he is even more handsome up close, you bravely touched the soft skin of his face wondering how can someone or something looked so angelic on the outside but demonic on the inside.

As you admire the beauty of the demon on top of you, he made himself comfortable in between your legs kissing your body, and sucking your nipples just how you wanted. “Okay, since you asked so so so nicely baby” he kissed you and proceeds to line his cock in your entrance, pushing in slowly and gently as you requested for the first time tonight. Giving you a few slow and gently thrusts, you moaned and smiled whiled he let you enjoy your request. You may not know, but the demon is admiring your smile, so he kissed those soft lips of yours once again. “Now, can I rough you up a little?” he sure has no patience. You have no other choice when he puts your arms around him, “I’ll let you touch me”

Thrusting hard again in no time, making your boobs bounce underneath him. Again, you whimper and asked for more this time. “Can I kiss you?” you asked with ragged breaths, he answered your question with a kiss, as if he’s letting you know that you can kiss him whenever you want to, in exchange for fucking you hard.

“You’re mine from now on” he repeats over and over again, hearing him grunt and moans like he was in pain but he was having a mind blowing orgasm. Shooting his cum inside you, looking at how fucked you are right now.

“Will I see you again? Tell me I’ll see you again” you whine under heavy breathing.

Mark kissed your parted lips sweetly, “you will, you will” he answers you. It’s like he has a switch or an off button for his rough attitude because he’s suddenly sweet. “It’s over now baby, you did great. Hmm.” he kept on kissing your lips until you have the energy to kiss him back. “That was great right? We will be great parents”

I left Heaven for you and gladly I will leave Hell too.

I am a selfish demon.

My intention for you is to love you deeply every day for as long as I exist. You may not hear me tell you ‘i love you’ but my actions are good and enough proof that my love for you is real and I want to show more.

I no longer want to possess another human just so I can talk to you or have sex with you. I no longer want to meet you secretly in your dreams and remain as your imaginary man. I want to wake up beside you and see your smile first thing in the morning, to be able to exist and be part of your life completely, walk on the streets hand in hand and live a full life with you.

It’s too much to ask, I know. But it’s not a bad thing.

As I watch you grow as an adult, you became more and more lonely, incomplete, and unsatisfied with the things you have in your life. I can make you happy I’m sure of it.

And giving you a baby is something that can make you need me or can make you want me to stay and be part of your life. I’m sorry.

But I’m a selfish demon and all I wanted is to be with you.

The sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a disturbingly nice dream. Another call from your boss about 127 House, today is the day that the house will finally be saved. As you stretch your body in bed, it’s weird how you feel so sore and tired when you perfectly remember sleeping early last night and had the weirdest dream in your life. The sex from the dream played like a movie picture in your head, the handsome face of the demon is engraved in your mind, “Mark” you whispered as you remember his name and how he kissed you oh so sweetly while he was telling you that you’re going to be great parents.

Knowing that it’s just a dream, you shrugged it off and started your day with a nice coffee and light breakfast, reviewing your presentation on the side for later, making sure that everything you say about the house will not make the buyer turn their back.

Another day at the office is another annoying day with your boss, which is also your ex boyfriend. Yuta is a good proof that you don’t know how to be with someone else other than yourself because you’re used to being alone that you don’t let other people inside your life. And yet, you feel lonely and you still want to try. Yuta is a great guy, but the problem is not him, it’s you.

“Well you look beautiful… and glowing” he greets you with his perfect smile before you two enter the empty and cold conference room. He recognizes that glow, and it hurts his pride that you’re fucking somebody else and not him. Even though it’s clear to him that you’re not together anymore, he still thinks he owns you.

You smiled back at him and proceed to prepare your things before the client comes in. It’s obvious that something is bothering Yuta, you wanted to ask him but you’re afraid to give him the wrong idea about you being concerned. So you focused your mind elsewhere and did not mind him further.

“Ah! Mr. Lee, welcome. Please take a seat. May I introduce you to one of my finest realtor, Ms. Y/n. Leave everything to her”

The client is facing Yuta and all you can see is his handsome figure from behind, nice ass, you thought. You put up a smile and ready yourself to shake hands with the client that will save the 127 House. “Hi Mr. Lee-“

It was truly an unexpected moment. You will never forget that angelic face that you admired so much in your dream. You try to hide your uneasiness and remained professional as you shake hands with Mr. Lee and proceed with your presentation.

During your presentation, you can’t stop thinking of the man with the same face and angelic features as Mr. Lee, fucking you senseless in your dream. It was just a dream but as you dive in more to the memory, you can almost feel the wet kisses that he left on your neck, the way he hurt you so good stretching your cunt, and his amazing duality after the sex. “…and that is all for 127 House, which will all be yours after we schedule you for a private tour so can see for yourself-“

“Tell me Ms. Y/n, do you like this house?”

“It’s one of our best, of course, sir-“

“No. I mean. Do you see yourself smiling and completely happy if you happen to own the 127 House?”

It’s a question that you can’t answer on the spot but come to think of it, yes, having a family with a big house to call it home isn’t such a bad choice in life. But for now, having a family is not on your cards clearly because you’re single at the moment and you’re not ready to have a family of your own. To answer your client’s question, “Yes, sir. I think the 127 House will change my life upside down, in and out if I happen to own it. My future children will have such beautiful home” you smiled awkwardly at him, hoping that your answer finally satisfies him.

“You’re going to be a great parent,” he says with a teasing tone that you don’t know what it’s for. You were sure that he’s smirking at you while Yuta explains the contract to Mr. Lee’s assistant and you were sure, that he has something to do with your dream. This can’t be.

As Yuta finishes the meeting with a light note and had his secretary help Mr. Lee with the contract and money talk, you can’t help but think about your future. A husband, your own house, having kids, all those things were floating in your mind. “If you wanted the house you could’ve just told me” Yuta’s voice brought you back to reality. The conference room was again empty and it’s you and Yuta were all that’s left.

“What are you talking about” you fixed your things and try to avoid Yuta’s presence.

“We could’ve been married and have kids you know,” he came close to you like he’s just about to kiss you.

“And I broke up with you for a reason, that I don’t love you anymore. Stop hurting yourself Yu, were fine now don’t ruin this” hearing that made Yuta remember the night you broke up with him. Still hurt like hell he thought.

You left him in the conference room and went back to work, went on with your usual day at the office. Busying yourself further and finishing loads of tasks before you head home. But despite your busy day, you kept on thinking about Mr. Lee over and over again, and that demon in your dream who had sex with you and told you about being great parents. Something is connecting the demon and Mr. Lee but you can’t point out what exactly.

As much as you want to deny the clues and just move forward with your life, your gut tells you that they’re the same person and there’s only one way to find out, ask the demon. But he never showed up again which leads you to your second option, contact Mr. Lee or his assistant. And as expected, they’re out of reach. It’s absurd, time wasting, and scary, but you would rather be scared of the truth than not knowing anything at all.

Night after night, you hopelessly wait for the handsome demon to visit you again. Secretly hoping that he will show up in your dream, even just for a minute no more no less, even if it’s just for sex, you just need to talk to him.

Work piles up and you continue to busy yourself selling houses, closing deals every week, watching couples be happy because they finally have a home, hoping that someday that could be you so you won’t get lonely in life. But with whom?

“You look awful, are you okay?” that’s what Yuta said instead of greeting you good morning and flirt with you like he normally does.

“Yeah. I feel like shit, but I’m fine. Maybe overworked, but I’m fine” it’s true, you don’t usually get sick because of overworking but this is different. You feel weak and tired even if you got enough sleep. Heck, even if you’re not working you’re still tired and dizzy. “So I was thinking some of the major points for the campaign-“

You didn’t finish your sentence and left Yuta in your office and ran to the nearest restroom to throw up. It was not hungover, that part you’re sure, you don’t get sick like whenever you’re tired from work. It doesn't make any sense. Then you realized, “fuck, I’m late” and there's only one person or creature to blame. Mark, the demon.

Hot tears fall from your eyes as you flush the toilet, wipe your mouth, and gather your strength to come out of the cubicle. To your surprise, Yuta was just outside the lady's restroom, waiting for you and making sure that you’re okay. He has his own thoughts and if he’s being completely honest, he’s disgusted. How can you be so stupid? Getting yourself knocked up before you even get married?

“Who’s the father?” he leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and already judging you.

“Please Yuta not now” the last thing you need right now is your ex being unreasonable.

“Are you going to keep it? I’m willing to pay for the abortion, I know you’re not yet ready” that’s it. That made you snap. Yuta is a nice person, but sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he constantly forgets his role in your life.

“How dare you. I’m speechless Yuta. You don’t want this baby not because of the reason that I’m not ready but for your selfish reasons, which I’m not interested. You’re my boss, can I leave early?”

Of course, Yuta didn’t take it well. His pride was hurt, the baby is like an ending note for the both of you. The meaningless conversation with Yuta lasted for almost half an hour, it’s like a never ending loophole whenever you talk to him about personal issues and you hate it. With or without Yuta’s permission, you went home and take care of yourself. The pregnancy test made it official and once again, you feel lost and lonely more than ever. How can the demon do this to you? Is this some kind of joke? Or maybe you’re just a one time thing for him.

Hoping that everything will be fine once you’re all well rested, you decided to sleep it off and try to fix and handle things when you wake up. The moment you closed your eyes, you feel wet kisses all over your exposed shoulders. You even felt the bed dip as if someone joined you to bed and shared their warmth.

“Baby I’m here” Mark whispers, trying to wake you up. It may not feel like it, but you were sleeping for two hours already. “You’re not just a one time thing for me" he added.

His hot breath woke you up, and finally seeing the handsome demon again unexpectedly made you feel better and welcomed him with a warm hug. Even Mark was shocked but he accepts your hug and returned to you even more warmly. His skin is hot, or maybe that’s just his warmth. He smelled like cinnamon, hot afternoons, did he just came from hell and went straight to your apartment?

“I didn’t show up for days because I wanted to make sure you wanted to see me” he disturbed your thoughts. Putting your hair away from your face and leaving light feathery kisses on your lips.

“Mark, I’m pregnant” you finally blurted out. Curious about what he’s going to react.

“And?” he was avoiding eye contact not because he’s shy, but because he can’t believe he can admire you closely like this and you finally know he exists. “Can we fuck first then talk later?”

You still have a lot of questions for him but he never gave you answers and it frustrates you. It’s been weeks since the last time you saw each other and he’s thinking about fucking right now. Unbelievable. “Not having sex with you until you tell me answers,” you said as gentle as possible, not wanting the demon to leave you empty handed again.

He just chuckled. Well, at least he’s not leaving yet because he’s starting to spread kisses all over your exposed skin. Feeling those incredible lips again makes you even more relaxed, his hands all around your sides roaming softly. You can’t believe you’re finally letting him in without boundaries.

“Show me your tits,” he said, lifting your thin shirt so easily.

“If I showed you my tits will you stop and finally have a decent conversation with me?”

“If you showed me your tits, baby I wont' stop. I’m here to remind you that you’re mine” he said heavily breathing from the hungry kiss biting your ears, your neck, and your lips. You pushed him away for a moment but it was a gentle push. You didn’t want to piss him off.

His hands are ready to push your bra down, he’s just waiting for you to let go and stop being a bitch. You figured you got nothing to lose so you grabbed his face and kissed him like how you missed him. Putting his hands on your boobs, guiding his hands to push down your bra and show him your tits. “That’s my girl,” he said in between kisses, feeling his warm smile before he pulls away and finally looks at your tits. “Mine,” he said, before licking a long stripe from your left nipple up to your chest, neck, and ends on your lips. Kissing you passionately before he does it again with your right boob. “Lift your chest” you followed what he said and you felt him unclasp your bra swiftly, It was a sign to remove your shirt and help him undress you.

Both naked in bed kissing like a loving couple, Mark decided to go a little easy on you tonight. After all, roughing you up is not part of his plan and purpose of his visit. He goes on top of you, lips still not leaving yours. “Did you miss me?” he asks, you can only answer using your hungry kisses. You feel his hand travel up and down your body oh so softly you’re starting to get ticklish that your lips parts because of his soft touches, he puts your panties in your mouth and your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m going to go easy on you tonight, don’t worry” he says. Mark looks handsomely scary and filthy right now in between your open legs licking your boobs and brushing his hand on your nipples making you sensitive. He reaches for your hand to suck your fingers good while looking directly in your eyes. You rolled your head back on your fluffy pillows, moaning and whimpering, letting your ruined panties in your mouth muffle the sounds that you’re making. If this was his idea of going easy then you’re fucked.

Mark let’s go of your left hand so he can touch your pussy while kissing your lower abdomen. Your hips roll uncontrollably and Mark likes the sounds that you’re making. He kneels in front of you and grabbed your free hand to pump his cock, play with its tip before he goes in. He lines his cock to your entrance and pushed in one hard thrust. Since your mouth is occupied, you can only hear Mark’s grunts while fucking you hard in the first few thrusts. It was too much, you were in tears. Sobbing and whimpering from the hurt. He noticed it. He removed your panties from your mouth crashing his lips to yours the moment he threw your wet panties away. “That was hot right?” He continues to kiss you wildly while giving you merciless thrusts. You try to breathe and catch your breath but he won't let you, “Mark, please” you call him out weakly.

“No, baby. You’re doing perfect don’t disappoint me” he kissed and kissed you until both of your lips are swollen. Thrust and thrust in your pussy until your boobs bounce nonstop and you’re on edge. The moment you reached your orgasm, Mark kissed you softly but he never stopped fucking you. You smiled at him, reaching for his face for another sweet kiss, helping him catch his sweet release.

He gave you three piercing thrusts that hurt so bad but felt so good before he pulls out and came on your pussy lips. Spreading white thick fluids all over your folds, and going in for the last time for his own satisfaction and pullout again quickly. It was a quick stretch that hurt but it was bearable.

He lay down beside you, spooning you and kissing your shoulders. Running a finger on your nipples as you both calm down and enjoy your fluffy bed and soft pillows. “As always you did good” he cuddles with you in bed, something you didn’t see coming. Even though he’s all scary and rude he’s capable of being sweet and you love it.

“How about that talk you owe me?” you kissed his neck as a way of returning the favor for making you feel good.

“Let’s go on a date. I want to do this right, it’s never my intention to scare you”

“You’re naturally scary, you don’t know that?” he smiles and made his one arm as his pillow so he can look at you properly.

“I’ll stop the baby from growing. For now. One date Y/n, and if you still hate me it’s over between us. The baby… the baby is my only way so I can stay with you forever”

Weird. The idea of Mark leaving you doesn’t sound so good. And to be honest you want to spend more time with him. He nuzzles your armpit making you laugh and giggle and at the same time. He’s cute when he's in the good mood.

“You could have asked me to go on a date first before you knocked me up,” you kissed his cheek and watch him roll his eye at you. Handsome. So handsome you thought.

“No. Having a baby will be our priority. Please, let's be happy. I can change your life”

Unfortunately, as you listen to the handsome demon confess his feelings for you, you suddenly thought about Yuta. Your ex wanted the exact same thing and things didn’t go well between you two. There’s something different about Mark that makes you want to try and work this family thing out with him. Even if he’s a demon if he can love you unconditionally, well having a family with him isn’t so bad.

But still, you need time. And getting you pregnant first before building an established relationship is too much.

I knew you will not take it easily, and it's fine by me I have all the patience in the world.

I'm selfish but I can’t force you to love me and your love, that’s what I want. That’s why I have to win you. Even if going on dates isn’t my best way to make you fall in love with me, it’s the right thing to do.

Yes, I can force you to stay in my house with that baby, but being together without love…well, what’s the point of it?

Now, I’m sorry for getting you pregnant first. I’m desperate. I long for you. You’re like a dream that I’m willing to do everything just so you can come true.

The most awaited dinner was full of flirting, low giggles, and honest talk. You insist on knowing him more and you’re more than happy to introduce yourself but he seems like he knew you all too well. “There’s nothing much to know about me” he takes a bite from his steak, “But let me be honest and I hope I won't scare you… I used to be your guardian angel…”

You listen to the whole story of the truth on how he used to be your guardian angel and became a demon because you embraced such pleasures in life. He told you how he fell in love with you even more when he became dark, he said that it felt good that there's nothing holding him back. “Believe it or not, I was your first. I couldn’t stomach watching you have sex with anyone else other than me” he explained further how he possessed every guy you had sex with and you find it amusing how he’s completely possessive when it comes to you.

“So Yuta?”

“Oh no no, not him. He has his own demon I can’t possess him. And that was my breaking point. When you two were together, I was broken, I feel abandoned and I secretly hope that you two break up, then it happened and I have nothing to do with it I promise. So now I’m here, taking my chance”

You question him further about your life, asking him about the things you only knew about yourself, things that only your family can answer, and not even your closest friends. Not because you doubt his honesty, but only because it's amusing to listen to him. All this time you weren’t alone. All these years of believing that you’re alone, little did you know you have Mark. The things that he’s telling you does not make you feel weird, it’s like you’re talking to a long lost friend who knew everything about you.

It’s amazing how he’s a demon but his honesty amazes you as he’s not capable of lying. Maybe he has something left from being an angel? Nonetheless, you see nothing wrong with giving him a chance to give you happiness. “Still you could have been honest first and take me on a date before you- you know”

“No, I need you to need me. That’s the only way. I’m here on a date with you because I can’t win you by playing tough, maybe I can win you by playing nice. So please stop hating me about the baby. I really want it with you” he reached for your hand on the table and caressed it with his thumb.

“I don’t hate you, Mark in fact I like you, I really do but the baby is too much. We can still try and be in a relationship without having a baby”

“Just give us a chance” he winked at you and continue eating his steak.

As you two continue the wonderful dinner and setting aside the baby talk for the rest of the night, he filled your heart with wonderful promises that you’re looking forward to seeing him do. And while he was talking, you noticed how your heart skip a beat when he raises his eyebrows and smirk. Handsome demon, that’s what he is.

During the car ride which you don’t know where he’s taking you, he never let go of your hand, kissing the back of it whenever he can and making you giggle with his spontaneous sweetness. “Where are you taking me? I thought you’re going to drive me home”

“I am. Were going home” You turned silent when you saw the beautiful white house from afar. He brought you to 127 House. “I bought this house because you were desperate to sell it. Also, that’s why I asked you if you see yourself being happy owning the house” he added and kissed your hand again.

The house is even more beautiful at night, Mark let you admire the house as he follows you and watch you with full admiration. You love what he did to the house, rather than a mansion with a plain interior he made it look like it’s ready to be a home for a family. What you see is not a demon who manipulated you, Mark is a desperate man who’s willing to try to make you happy and who’s desperate to have a family of his own with the woman that he loves. You.

“Welcome home?” he says.

“It’s too early for that Mark, I like you but how can you be so sure about this?” his confidence amuse you.

He scoffed and raised his eyebrows on you, caging you with a warm embrace from behind as you two watch the calm water on the pool outside. “You sound like I haven’t fucked you already. I’m confident about this. Welcome home” he repeats and planted a kiss on your temple. A simple gesture that makes you happy.

As you two enjoy the comfortable silence while swaying side to side for some time, you feel his hot breath tickling the back of your neck, giving you a shiver that goes straight to your spine. You’re familiar with Mark’s presence already. A presence you always crave, something you always want near you. “What do you want to do next, beautiful?” he asks, kissing your neck and making your knees weak.

“Can we have normal sex? Without you fucking me in my dreams? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course. From now on, no more having sex in your dreams and no more possessing other humans. It’s just me now” he reaches for your lips, turning your body so you could kiss properly. You feel safe in his arms, which made you realize that he has done so much for you.

“Maybe it’s time for me to give back, Mark” he smiled, motioning you on his huge couch.

“What do you have in mind?” he removes your shoes and made you sit on his lap.

“I can start by,” you kiss him slowly on his neck, cup his face but he’s quick to kiss your hand softly, “I can start by being on top tonight, let me make you cum for as many as you want?” he chuckled low and nod his head. He sat there looking devilishly handsome, letting you do what you want as he watches you with lustful eyes.

I never thought that the date will work out and quite frankly, I’m thankful for our date. It’s the first night that I felt that I could actually be part of your life. For the first time, I feel like I’m a man and not just a fallen angel or a demon.

The way you kissed on my neck, when you smile whenever our eyes meet, how you touched me and kissed my body, the feeling of your fingertips dancing around my skin. It’s addictive. It almost felt like our first time having sex. The night I took your virginity, I couldn’t have enough of you that I keep on asking for another round if you remember.

And oh! When you held my hand while you roll your hips slowly, It was life changing Y/n.

Thank you for giving me a chance to prove my love further to you.

After having a few rounds on the couch and his huge bed, Mark is now watching you sleep beside him. Caressing your face softly as he turns this moment into a special one because his dream of sleeping beside you with his whole being finally came true. “I’m so in love with you,” he says before drifting to sleep.

Welcoming the demon in your life was the best decision you ever made even though the baby part is still blurry. Nonetheless, Mark made you feel loved every day in many different ways. May it be through his sweet words, making love to you instead of fucking hard, holding your hand while you two watch a scary movie, or whenever he sings to you after learning a new song. For a demon who came out of hell, he’s a little sweet and romantic.

He also adapted well to this world, even found out that his eyesight is poor and that you have to get him a pair of glasses. And as he stays in this world loving you, his love for watermelons and playing with his guitar grew stronger each day too.

Seasons change and years pass by like a snap of your finger, you and Mark stayed happily together in 127 House and make it a home, even if it’s just the two of you. He made you so happy in life that you forgot life before he came.

“Where did you find that handsome guy?” your best friend asks you while she’s slicing her son’s birthday cake. You help her with the plates while you answer every question she throws.

“Dating app” you lied and laughed at her to shut her up.

“I know that’s a lie but I don’t care. That man makes you happier than ever. What is he an angel or something?” If only she knew.

You watch Mark play with other kids, tickling their tummies as he giggles with them. Being a father suits him well and you bet he still dreams of becoming one. You almost feel sorry about it because you can’t give the only thing he asks for.

When you got home and now that Mark is balls deep inside you while you ride him deliciously, your head is not there. You kept on thinking about something and of course, Mark is quick to stop doing what he’s doing. “Hey your mind is so noisy and clouded” he’s no complaining, he’s worried about you because he can hear you but can't understand you. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”

You lean forward to him and rest your forehead on his chest, readying yourself to finally tell him that, “I want to have a baby”

For a moment it was dead silent while you two look each other eye to eye but soon he sat up and hug you, making you moan because he’s still deep inside you. He showered you with kisses, crying tears of joy because now his life is finally complete.

“I love you. And I’m sorry for keeping you away from being a great dad-“

“You did nothing wrong. Stop apologizing” he cups your face and kissed you deeply, pulling you back on the mattress to continue what you two were doing but this time it’s for a purpose.

During your pregnancy, you’ve never seen Mark so happy.

He was by your side like the guardian angel that he used to be. Taking care of you all the way from sun up to sun down. You’ve never thought that your pregnancy will be bearable, full of happiness and laughter because of a demon who fell in love with you.

Everything was going too fast, the next thing you know is you’re already seven months pregnant and Mark is staring at your tummy for almost five minutes as he waits for his baby to kick and your tummy move and be amazed over and over again. You’re starting to doubt if he’s really a demon. “Oh! See that! He kicked!” you laughed at him as he holds your tummy with both hands and spread kisses on it.

Things were going smoothly until the day has finally come and you’re at the delivery room fighting for your life. Quite literally. The doctors are having a huge problem pulling your baby out of your belly and they needed Mark to get out of the room because the situation became serious. He was about to lose you and the doctors want him out, of course, Mark wants to cause a scene. But he knew better. The last memory you had before closing your eyes was the door closing on Mark as he can’t do anything about it. Through a glass window, Mark sees everything that the doctors are doing to you. He wanted so bad to hold your hand so you know that you still have to fight for your life and the baby’s life.

When the baby is finally out, he was so happy to see his baby for the first that he’s sobbing and whimpering. Murmuring even that you need to wake up because finally, the baby is here. The smile painted on Mark’s face was priceless. But not for long. He knew that there’s something wrong when the doctors were staring at the baby, waiting for it to cry. Mark’s world turned black when he watches the doctor shook his head in front of him.

It was life changing.

The once happy home for you and Mark became a place so cold and gloomy as if happiness never touched the 127 House. As you’re struggling with depression, Mark embraced his anger and caused chaos everywhere. Not giving a fuck what happens to anyone because nothing can compare to the sadness that he’s feeling. It all happened for a year, which changed your relationship into small talks and cold nights. Like you two have broken up but you still live under the same roof.

But the demon loves you so much that he tried everything to pick himself up and take care of you. Your relationship was too precious for him and realized that it’s the only thing he has left. Slowly, you forgive yourself and tried to live again. Patience keeps on growing as you and Mark chose to love each other deeper and move on with what’s left with your life.

After having several check-ups, taking every advice that the doctor says, and finding out that it’s safe for you to have a baby again, you and Mark gave it another chance without hesitating. Now, you’re six months pregnant and life is slowly becoming happy again.

“Long time no see” It’s his demon best friend, Haechan. He appeared out of nowhere while Mark is having some fresh air on the balcony. Mark waits for his friend to talk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just here to let you know that your Y/n has a new guardian angel since you’ve been so busy being a human”

“Fuck- No wonder our life is so messed up right now”

“Don’t let it kill your baby again” and just like that Haechan is gone before Mark could even ask him more about this guardian angel.

When you become a parent, your child will automatically be your prize possession. But for Mark, he has two people dear in his life. Two people. That’s all he has. And he’s not going let that angel kill his baby again and make you suffer.

Mark stick to you like glue, and you noticed that he has been even more protective than ever. “I’m going to be fine, Mark. What are you so afraid of?” you kiss him before you head to the bathroom to take a pee. This part of Mark that’s so paranoid is freaking you out and scaring you sometimes. Like he’s not telling you something or he’s hiding something from you.

Mark continues to protect you from that angel, and day by day he’s becoming even more afraid of what might happen to you. If that angel is capable of killing something precious, then who knows what else can it do to harm you further.

“Do you miss being an angel?” you asked Mark while you two lay in bed closely.

“No” he answers without hesitating.

“Do you have wings back then?”

He chuckled low and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We’ve been together for many years and you’re asking me this just now? But yes. I did. And it hurt like hell when they took it off. But I was happy afterward, it simply means I can finally be with you” his happiness is evident because his smile is so bright.

“I’m sorry” you don’t know why you apologized, but maybe you just want to.

“For making me the happiest demon? Oh come on, ‘I love you, Mark’ is so much better” he was acting cute and his charms still work on you.

“I love you, Mark”

“Thanks. I know” you smack his shoulder playfully, making him laugh and tell you, “I love you too, Y/n. You know that”

There's nothing wrong with being positive in life again after going through so much pain or after losing your first baby. There’s nothing wrong with that. As you and Mark wait for your due date, days have been beautiful while you wait for the baby. You are healthy, the baby is healthy, even Mark is healthy. You really think that this is going to be different than the first. Different in a beautiful way.

When the day finally comes, you were smiling and quite excited as Mark stays by your side the whole time. He was holding your hand, helping you to breathe, and fight to achieve that happiness with you. “Breathe with me, everything will be fine,” he says, smiling so handsomely in front of your eyes. You wanted to tell him that you love so much, thank him for changing your life but saying things like that while you're pushing to bring out the baby is kind of out of the scene. So you gave him a weak smile instead.

When the doctor had finally held the baby you and Mark were so happy because you were so close to being a family now.

But you’re slowly getting weak and he watches your smile fade and your eyes close.

“Doctor we are losing here!” the nurse exclaimed. Everything is happening again, Mark thought. As he watches the doctors and the nurses do everything they can to save you, Mark stood there quietly knowing all too well how dying works.

“Y/n, you can’t die. It’s not your time yet” he said a little too loud while standing like a statue. He used to be your guardian angel, of course, he knew things like this. “Y/n, you will be fine” he exclaimed again but this time there were tears in his eyes and his voice broke.

Time suddenly stopped and the scene was oddly familiar to him, there’s an angel inside this room to bring your soul to Heaven. “No, no”. he murmurs with tears in his eyes, looking around the room waiting for the angel to appear. “I know you’re here” he turned around multiple times until your new guardian angel appears. Doyoung.

“How many babies should I bring to heaven to make you stop? Look what you made me do” Doyoung said, “It’s not her time yet but this is the only way to keep her away from you. It’s an angel baby, Mark! You know that angels are not allowed to be born other than the insides of Heaven. It’s dangerous to expose divinity in the eyes of humans. What were you thinking?”

“I did not know- please bring her back. I’ll do anything you want” Mark begs his old friend, crying and whimpering like a little boy. If only he knew from the start he wouldn’t have got you pregnant in the first place and watch you suffer two times. Now he’s mad at himself.

“It’s too late old friend, I’m just doing my job”

And even before Mark could beg more, time turned back to normal and the doctor had announced the time of your death.

What better way to be punished after betraying Heaven and Hell by taking the love of his life. Of course, the heavenly creatures will bring you to Heaven because they knew all too well that Mark can’t enter the silver city again.

#nct-writers #neohalloween #kpopscape #unfortunatus: inferno #kdiner #nct smut #mark lee smut #nct mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #nct mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #nct mark lee angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #mark lee x reader #nct demon au #nct angel au

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axwalker · 3 years

Text

Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my FC.

Words: 4,110

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!!

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?”

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent.

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up.

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony.

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence.

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done.

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.”

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long.

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me.

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.”

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was.

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right.

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me.

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.”

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.”

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion.

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.”

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—”

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City.

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.”

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…”

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along.

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper.

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

��Drake

What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me.

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.”

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.”

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.”

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

“I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.”

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly.

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.”

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand.

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.”

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside.

“What can I do?” I ask.

“How long do we have?”

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead.

“Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?”

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway.

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine.

“I can’t just leave, can I?”

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?”

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?”

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.”

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.”

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything.

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

#tw domestic violence #toxic relationship #tw bullying

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morgansmoreid · 3 years

Text

Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Nine

Chapter Name: " Reasonable"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Parental Abuse, Drugs Mention, Homophobia

Bold Writing stands for what happened at the station while Y/n was not present

---

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four.

Y/n's feet clacked against the concrete floor.

Rubbing the palm of her hand against the outline of the pills, Y/n moved along the cars as she slowly walked to the station, this time her mind as empty as an open field.

The station was in her view quicker than anticipated. She pulled open the front door, the bell above it causing everyone who was in ear's views to turn their heads. Scanning each face carefully, relief swayed through Y/n as no face was anyone she dreaded to talk to.

Her relief was cut short as Aaron walked down the hall to her left with the team, her father, and James.

"That was all we needed to know," She heard him say as Aaron shook her father's hand.

James was the first to see her, alerting the rest of the people surrounding him by clearing his throat. Y/n made eye contact with James, her breaking first as her eyes fell to her feet. Thoughts of turning around and sprinting on her heels again popped in Y/n's head, but she ignored them and just looked to the floor.

"Y/n Y/L/N-Fields, please come with us." Emily moved from the center of the group and to Y/n, reaching out her hand to lead Y/n the way of the interrogation room. Y/n took it, keeping her head down as they walked past the group, eyes burning through her back as the pills in her pocket scream her name.

Emily opens the door and lets Y/n take a seat before heading outside again. Everyone is looking at the young female through the one-sided window, their eyes still leaving the same burning gaping hole.

Aaron and David come in, both faces stoic and tense. In hand, Aaron has a yellow pad and a pee cup while David has a blood test. Y/n's eyes grow wide at the objects placed in front of her before she sits up straight and lays her hands on the table.

"You aren't drug testing me." She says, her tone assertive but calm.

"But we are," David replies, looking over to Aaron.

"You understand that this is a federal investigation now? If you comply, these samples will not go on record but will be used for further inference. If you don't, they will go on your job record and you will be on leave effective immediately." Aaron threatened, leaving Y/n no choice.

"I'm clean." She mumbled as she rolled her sleeve for the blood test. Even if she wasn't, it wouldn't show for another 2 days, so it would be negative anyway.

Aaron said nothing as he opened the blood kit and wiped Y/n's inner arm with a sanitary wipe. Y/n winced at the needle entering her arm, the pain lasting as blood filled four tubes. Placing a bandaid on her arm, Aaron disposed of the needle in a different bag before opening the door and handing it to a hand outside.

Y/n may have not seen the person who took the bag, but she saw Derek. He was leaning against the wall across from the door, arms crossed. They made eye contact, this time neither one breaking it, just before the door closed.

"Do you need water?" David's voice pulled Y/n out of her thoughts.

Yes. Her throat was dry and scratchy.

Yes. Water would go well with the pills in her pocket.

"No thank you," Y/n looks up to David. He gives her the look of pity and sorrow and she feels herself hanging on by a thread.

"Come with me then," David holds the look as he turns around, cup in hand, and opens the door for Y/n.

Walking out, Y/n and David turn to the right from the small room while the team and others are on the left. David stands outside of the unisex bathroom as Y/n pees in the given cup. Washing her hands, Y/n stares at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes are red and her arm is now in pain. She feels like she's in one of those bad teenage romcoms, where the main character fucks up her life and in the end, it gets better. She's just waiting for her cue.

The silence lasts in the bathroom as Y/n bags her cup and places it on the small window ledge. She could run right now if she wanted to, but it wouldn't be worth it. Y/n turns on the bathroom faucet again and pulls out the baggie of pills from her pocket. 7 white tablets look at her as she takes one into her hand and shoves the rest back into hiding.

Just before she could bring her hand to her mouth and consume the evil, little miraculous wonder, David knocked on the door causing her to drop the pill in fright. Right into a puddle of "water," the pill went as Y/n hissed at the closed brown door.

"Fuck!" Her words echoed in the small room.

"Y/n? Is everything ok in there?" David's voice is muffled on the other side.

Instead of answering him, Y/n grabs the cup and pushes open the door, slamming the cup into the elder's hand and walking back into the integration room. She passes everyone, this time not bothering to even acknowledge Derek's presence, or his attempt to talk to her.

She slacks down in her seat and waits for the next person to walk through the door. It's Aaron again, with Penelope's laptop and a tape recorder in hand as he carries a file in his armpit.

"Before we start, shall I address you as Fields or Y/L/N?" Aaron precautions.

"Y/L/N, and only Y/L/N," Y/n says, voice cold as ice.

"Ok then, for the record, can you please state your full name, your age, and the year?" The first question leaves Aaron's lips.

"My name is Y/n Y/L/N, I am 29, and it's the year 2008."

Hotch scribbles Y/n's words down and opens the laptop. When he turns it to her, it's already open to a cheer photo from Y/n's sophomore year of high school.

"Please state who you recognize in this photo." Aaron opens the file that was once under his arm.

Eyes read the screen multiple times as the memories resurface in Y/n's head and the names leave her mouth.

"Sabrina Chains, Joanna McCarter, Daisy Miller, Rose Henry, Arianna Anderson, Megan Smith, Daniela Choi, Christina Middleton, and Catarina Paredes."

It's not in order, Sabrina is actually next to Daisy and Joanna is standing next to Daniela, but when Y/n recognized the face, she said the name.

"And who is this?" Aaron hits the right arrow key to move to the next slide. Y/n is horrified by what she sees. It's not another group picture or even a single picture of one of the women, it's a crime scene photo.

It's Arianna's crime scene photo, the only crime Y/n wasn't surrounded by the group for. The hotel room is way messier than others, the behavior completely changed from the last 3. Blood is everywhere, money and jewelry are splattered across the floor and there are no numbers on top of the body or anywhere for that matter. If the other kills weren't personal, this was. Arianna was killed by someone in rage and mixed emotion.

Just how Y/n left the team.

She can only look at the gruesome crime scene for so long until she reaches for the hood of the laptop to shut it off. Aaron is quicker and pulls it out of her sight as he switches to another picture of the crime scene, this time the bathroom.

Two looks and Y/n is ready to throw up. She trained for this, she worked her ass off for the last 5 years on how to keep her composure, yet, she's failing to keep herself together. The bathroom is a mess, clothes are ripped and makeup is smeared on walls, this unsub lost control or this is a new killer. Either way, it's not Y/n and there is no way that the team can possibly deem her that low.

"Please turn it off." Her voice is tense and demanding.

Aaron does shut the laptop and turns it to him. He takes a minute to write down his observations and proceeds with the integration further.

"When you left the Police Station, you were gone for 2 hours and 13 minutes, where did you go?" He asks, writing down the question as he says it.

"James, where is she?" David asks, handing Spencer a miniature Newton's cradle to calm him down.

Everyone looks at James for an answer. After Y/F/N was questioned, he and James were separated for the sake of the case. James was working on a different case file, wrapping it up on the end of the conference table while the team focused on Y/n.

"I'm not positively sure," James lied, rubbing the back of his neck as his handwriting started to get sloppy against the manila folder and its contents inside.

"Well, where do you think?" Derek spoke, his tone snappy and agitated.

After Y/F/N gave up his truth about Y/n's past and her drug problems, Derek was also questioned, not officially, just about how much he knew and what he wasn't letting on. Derek was honest with Hotch and the team, telling them he had no idea about Y/n's problem. Yes, it was true sometimes it intrigued him when they had date night and she never drank anything besides sparkling water, but when she blamed it on "past issues," he assumed it ran in the family.

He assumed because he trusted her.

And she broke that.

"Michael? The guy that Chief Fields couldn't stand? He lived right over here." James gets up and points to the computer screen. Y/n's last coordinates were still up so he dragged his pen across the screen, measuring out the distance for the team as he landed on the only colorful house in satellite view.

"I thought Michael was who introduced her into the drugs in the first place?" Aaron walks over to James.

"It's not really his fault, I've always told Y/n that she could've said no," James responds, becoming silent from everyone's glare at him.

"Saying no isn't easy," Derek mumbles, so low, no one heard him.

No one could say anything as another policeman came into the room frantically about a new body.

Y/n had only been gone 34 minutes at most. There was no way it could be her so quickly, but that didn't stop everyone's thoughts from going to the deep end.

As the team flies into the SUVs, Aaron orders Penelope to keep watch on Y/n's coordinates and dig very thoroughly of the lives of the 9 women, 5 now potential victims.

"Someone has it out for these women, and I wouldn't put it past that Y/n is the glue." He said, tightening his holster.

"I just walked around, took time to clear my head." Y/n lied.

Everyone knew where she was, but Aaron didn't call her out on her false truth and asked the next question.

"When was the last time you purchased any narcotics of the sort, Opioids, Cannabinoids, Hallucinogens, and or Stimulants?" Aaron asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer himself.

"Last time I was in town, 5 years ago." Y/n lies again.

This time, half of the team is unsure if it's true. James knows deep down it's a lie, but the rest of them don't want to believe it.

So Aaron doesn't push.

"And the last time you consumed any of the narcotics listed before?"

This question, everyone wants the truth, everyone is determined to figure out if they let another team member sink into their addiction before their eyes or if Y/n truly did put her life here behind her.

"As I said, last time I was in town, 5 years ago," Y/n says, her tone changing. It speaks of truth, which tells everyone, even her father that she lied about the last time she bought drugs and where she was, but they don't care about that at this moment.

All they care about is her sobriety, they were still her family after all.

Aaron smiles internally as he writes Y/n's answer on the yellow pad, then ripping the sheet off and sliding it underneath the cardboard. When he does this, the next yellow sheet visible is not blank, it's all of Y/F/N's previous questions. The horrible lights make it hard to see all of them but it still shines bright on the first one.

"What was discipline like as Y/n grew up?" Aaron asks his first question.

The question throws Y/F/N off guard. That had nothing to do with the investigation, what did the FBI want to know about his parenting?

"I believe you were asked a question," David says beside Aaron, arms crossed.

"This has to do what with the investigation?" Y/F/N asked, finally understanding the concept of what he was being asked.

"Agent Hotchner, are you implying that I abused my daughter?" He accused, now not feeling so compliant.

"I didn't say anything to imply, did I, Agent Rossi?" Aaron says loud and clear, bringing the tape recorder to him.

"Not at all, but I think you should repeat it, someone seems confused," Rossi taunted.

"Y/F/N Fields, what was discipline like as Y/n, your daughter grew up?" Aaron demanded an answer.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N said.

"Reasonable how?" Rossi pressed.

"If needed, I taught my daughter wrong from right," Y/F/N replied confidently.

"Did you at any given point in time, use your power as a parent to hit Y/n as a punishment?" Aaron asked bluntly. He hated abusers, it was something about finding pain and taking it out on others that he just could never understand.

"I did. But like I said when it was reasonable." His mouth forms into an undeniable smirk.

Y/F/N's hand went across Y/n's face.

"I said I was sorry!" The girl cried, she was only trying to show her dad an A+ she got.

"You're always sorry, there was no reason for you to knock that down." The angry male pointed to the empty cup on the floor.

Out of excitement, Y/n's elbow hit the plastic cup and knocked it down, but she was backed into the wall before she could pick it up, dropping her graded test midway.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N mumbled to himself.

Anger filled Y/n as her eyes went over the word reasonable.

Never once was Y/F/N reasonable.

Never.

Clenching her fists, Y/n sits up straight and zones back into her conversation with Aaron.

"Can you ask it again?" She says, making straight eye contact.

"Your relations to Daniela Choi?" Aaron asks.

Y/n doesn't know how to reply, she knows Derek is watching so she has to careful with her answer.

"I was-," She gathers her thoughts. "We were pretty close."

It's not a lie. They were close, extremely.

"Who would you say Y/n was closest to?" Aaron asks James.

The team started the investigation from the very beginning, so now everyone was a suspect.

"I've got a funny feeling about that dude, Hotch," Derek says, but his judgment is clouded, he's angry and hurt so to make him feel better, Aaron took James in for questioning.

"Daniela." James's answer is short.

"Why?"

"They dated, for a long time, blew up our whole group," James explains.

"What group?" Aaron flies through the files that he brought in.

Instead of answering, James takes out a picture.

"He's prepared." JJ points out.

The picture is a cheer team, James is nowhere to be found but the first person to catch Aaron's eye is the babyface of Y/n, she in middle, engulfed in a hug by a female with curly mixed hair- Arianna he later finds out. He wants to question why James has this but James continues to talk.

"Not everyone was supportive."

"What?" Rose asked.

"I'm dating Y/n," Daniela said slowly, it was time the two told their friends, the thought of banishment slipping their minds.

"You and Y/n? But your both girls!" Rose exclaimed, as the pastor's daughter, she was raised to what she thought was right.

"So? My mom said it doesn't matter and we both know Y/F/N won't bat an eye." Daniela spoke for both her and Y/n.

"Guys! Help me out here, tell them it's wrong." Rose looked around the booth, empty cups filled the large table as her high pitch voice filled the empty diner.

"How is it wrong?" Caterina scoffed, she could never have the courage to do what Danny and Y/n are doing but she'll stand by them no matter what.

"The bible-" Rose protests.

"For the last time, not all of us live by the damn bible!" James slammed his hand on the teal table before them.

Everyone loved each other, no one cared for anyone's flaws, like Rose's, who always ignored everyone when they try to tell her they don't want to hear bible quotes, or Y/n who always inserts herself into drama.

They were each other's little family and until now nothing has torn them apart.

"I refuse to be around them and their sins," Rose shoved her finger into Y/n's, finally the young girl to stand up.

"And we refuse to be around you." Y/n's tone is cold and tense.

"We all do." Arianna stood up.

"Christina?" Rose looked at the oldest for help.

"You heard them, you can't hate one without hating all of us." She said.

Christina's word was final. If she said someone was out, they were out, no discussion. She just had to say the words.

"Rose, are you staying or leaving?" She asked.

"I'm leaving, my dignity lasts." Rose proudly held her head high.

"Bye then. You longer are allowed to hang out with us." Christina said with much more pride.

The 10 at the table watched the first walk away.

"Not everyone agreed." James rephrased his sentence, fists clenching in anger.

As James told Aaron how the day that Rose left the group went, his fingers dug deeper into his hand, and when he finally let go, crescent marks left their place.

"When you say close, what do you mean?" Aaron wants to hear from Y/n, James is not trustworthy enough right now.

"I had a relationship with Daniela," Y/n admits.

Hearing the words makes Derek turn on his heels and leave the group in the hall. He needs air, he needs to be away from Y/n right now. He told her he was sorry about her friend and she just went with it, in his eyes, she lied to him.

She did the one thing that he always asked not to.

"Derek?" Spencer's voice called from behind him.

"Not now," Derek says, but it's more of a plead. He doesn't want to take his anger out on someone who doesn't deserve it, he wants to take his anger out on Y/n.

Spencer leaves him alone and Derek takes a few minutes to himself. When he heads back to the station, he refuses to join back with the group, he heads back to the table in the conference room and starts working, the way his handwriting fills each paper and picture easing his mind.

As the minutes feel like hours, Y/n's interview is finally done and she feels bare. She hates how much she revealed, she hates how much has been stripped, how her walls came down and she had no say.

She hates most of her answers were lies that found their way into her truth.

But she won't tell them that, they don't need to know.

They don't get to know.

Aaron lets Y/n head to the hotel first, but when she steps outside, it's dark. Her phone is dead and her body is tired, yet her feet take her to the hotel doors, they let her step into the elevator and into her room. Her hands ache but they plug her phone in and they pull her shirt off. Her hands ache but they turn the knobs of the shower and unbutton her pants. Her legs hurt but they step out of the jeans and help her feet kick them to the side. Her body is a temple of pain but as she removes her bra and underwear, as she steps in the shower, as her fingers run over her body and squeeze the soap out of her cloth out, letting it slide down her figure, she finds her self sitting in the middle of her bed, the air silent where she finally lets her self cry.

So many years of bottling up feeling, so many years of trauma, and it took 34 questions to strip her of who she was. Every single question she counted, every single time she felt betrayed, she counted, her life was out there to know, memories she hid taunt her.

A knock on her door pulls her out of her thoughts.

When she gets up, she takes notice of the black shirt she was wearing 24 hours ago. The feeling of Derek's hand run up and down her body in chills as she walks closer to the door.

24 hours ago everything was peaceful.

Now it's a shithole.

Cracking open the door, Y/n is surprised, to say the least. Both people are silent as she opens the door more and lets the person step in.

"Derek-" She tries.

"No. You don't get to talk. It's your turn to listen." He says, meaning every fucking word.

#derek morgan #derek morgan fic #Chocolate Thunder #derek morgan x reader #bau x reader #reader insert #mjmoreid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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passable-talent · 4 years

Note

How about something with suitless Vader? Honestly I find dark Anakin with yellow eyes very attractive (even more than Jedi Ani!)🚶‍♀️

ooooh girl me 2

gun to my head, it’s Jedi Ani. but holy shiiittt sith anakin,,,,

At nineteen, you married Anakin Skywalker. That’s where our story begins.

You were a Jedi, just like him. You were made a knight too early, so that you could fight in the Clone Wars, just like him. The two of you walked through life side by side, from the moment you met.

And so, you forged a bond in the Force.

It wasn’t strong. You couldn’t communicate thoughts, and certainly couldn’t transport matter. But you could feel each other’s presence, you could feel the other’s emotion.

It was a tool, and you used it, both in your marriage and on the battlefield. Like no other Jedi you were a team, rivalled by no one.

Such a bond allowed Anakin a disturbing vision.

He would wake up in the dead of night, hearing you scream. He felt the grief deep in his stomach, and even through the haze of sleep knew what it meant- he knew that you were meant to die.

He confided this fear to Chancellor Palpatine, who took advantage of it. You know the rest- his fall to the dark side in order to keep you safe.

The moment Anakin sliced off Mace Windu’s arm, you fell to the ground in the middle of a battle. Your legs couldn’t hold you- there was pain throughout your body, so intense, so deep, you could barely move. It forced all of your muscles to lock and tighten, as though you were subconsciously trying to force it away. You curled up, and when your will failed, you began to scream. You feared you’d never stop.

It was pain, anguish, horror. Grief and sadness and rage. All of them, so tangled up underneath your ribcage, and you held your fist against it. You didn’t know what it meant, it was too violent to make sense of, and you couldn’t much focus anyway.

Luckily, Obi-Wan was there. He got you to safety, and you curled up in a bed in a ship.

For weeks, you just tried to survive. The pain never ebbed, in fact, it got worse, but slowly you were going numb. You had escaped to Tatooine with Obi-Wan after the Clones turned on the Jedi, and he let you be. Your pain combined with your grief, for Anakin had been killed- you couldn’t imagine what had taken him down. You just had to hope it wasn’t Rex.

Not far from Anakin’s family’s home, you lumbered around with phantom pains, barely eating, never sleeping. The intensity of it had become your normal, eyelids always heavy, muscles always locked.

You trembled with every step, and your lips were constantly bleeding, from when you’d bitten and been unable to let go. There was a line of scar tissue bisecting each palm, where your nails had ripped them open, again and again. You lost weight, rarely eating, and so looking so sickly, your muscle still toned from constant tensing standing out underneath paled, tight skin. It wasn’t a good look, and so you’d stopped looking in the mirror, not wanting to see the ghost of a Jedi, the one who hadn’t even tried to help in the final days of the Clone Wars, the one whose skin had sunken in around their eyes and cheeks.

“Have you gotten any better?” Obi-Wan asked, bringing you a meal. You were watching the binary sunrise, trying to meditate- it was how you spent a lot of your time, now, fists clenched under your chin, biceps tight, but your mind as clear as it could be. You tried to reach out to Anakin through the Force, hoping your husband could give you even the slightest bit of encouragement, and to the Jedi who’d been lost, and even to Shmi. It never worked. You had to assume that the grief and rage coiling in your stomach kept you barred from the Force.

“No,” you replied dryly, opening your eyes. “I don’t think it’s ever going to let up. Not until I die.”

“Or Vader dies,” Obi-Wan said, a small smile on his face as though he was joking.

But what in the world did that mean?

“Why would Vader have anything to do with this?” You asked, and though you couldn’t see it, you suddenly sensed Obi-Wan begin to feel anxiety.

“I- He doesn’t. I meant that his death might bring you a little reprieve, him being a Sith and all.”

“No,” you said, slowly rising to your feet, your fists held at your side, but now there was suspicion in your voice to match them. “You meant, somehow, that all of this is connected to Vader. Like this is-” Your words dropped off, as you considered what it could have meant.

You had a Force connection with Anakin. Obi-Wan carelessly joked that this pain had to do with Vader, which would mean you had a connection with Vader.

Which would mean that Anakin was Vader.

“You told me Anakin was dead,” you growled, and now all of the rage in your stomach felt your own. “You told me you watched him die!”

It all made sense. Obi-Wan taking you away, never looking back. The time you spent on Mustafar, curled up on the floor of his ship, not knowing what he was doing. The way the pain got worse as time went on. His choice to bring you to Tatooine, where Anakin was born, where his mother died, where he would never willingly return to.

“He is!” Obi-Wan insisted, taking a step back. “Anakin Skywalker is dead!”

“No!” you shouted, and reached out, calling your saber to you. You hadn’t used the Force in so long. “He’s alive! And all this time, all this grief I’ve been feeling- he was grieving for me!” You shoved back Obi-Wan, to the door of his home. “How could you keep this from me?” The pain was familiar, and now, it was all your own.

“Y/N, wait!” By the time Obi-Wan caught you, you’d stolen his ship.

Now knowing exactly what you felt, you could open yourself to it. Sure, it hurt, it made the pain so much worse, but only by opening yourself to the anguish would you begin to feel Anakin behind it.

For the first time, you started to sort through it all.

Anger. Fear. Hatred. Grief. Sadness. And all of it- all of it was because Obi-Wan had kept you from him. Obi-Wan had known Anakin was alive, and he didn’t tell you. He didn’t trust you enough, didn’t trust Anakin enough, to let you meet. It was all Obi-Wan’s fault that you’d become so ill, that you’d been in this much pain for this long. He kept you weak. Anakin probably didn’t even know you were alive!

Returning to like Coruscant was like returning home. It had been so long since you’d seen the beautiful, sparkling skyline as it stretched on towards the horizon under a golden sky. You touched down your ship onto the Senate’s landing platform, and strapped your saber to your waist before stepping outside.

A droid was there to greet you.

“What’s your name?” The stupid tube of wires asked, and you turned your face toward it with a glare. Your head hung low, and your breaths were irregular, forced out with the tensing of your diaphragm as you moved through waves of anguish that haunted your every step.

“I’m (F/N) (L/N),” you said, “And you will tell Lord Vader that I am here to see him.”

“Uh, I don’t think I-” the droid got no further before you ignited your saber and bisected it with all the contempt of a General of the Clone Wars. You turned to the next droid, voice even more commanding, even more angry.

“You will tell Lord Vader that I am here to see him.” Thoroughly threatened, this droid did as you asked.

You stood on the landing platform, waiting, and the longer you waited, the more it hurt. The more it got to you. You started curling, as you always did, pressing your forearms into your stomach, your spine hunching over.

And then it disappeared.

It took you a moment to realize the way the pain vanished, your muscles so tight, so you slowly uncurled, more confused than relieved. You looked at your hands, and shifted your legs, not having felt this light, this free, since... since you’d seen Anakin last. Did that mean...?

You looked up to where the droid had disappeared to, and there he was.

“Anakin.” Your voice was soft, in a way you hadn’t heard it in a long time. Suddenly you had all of the grace and lightness you’d once been proud of, and you ran to him, jumping into his arms. He caught you, like he always does, and spun you as he lowered you, and the hug was so tight, you’d never let go. You curled your fingers into his robes, and he surrounded you in them, enveloped you, his flesh hand bringing his fingers into your hair. You held his neck like it held your life, keeping him as close to you as you could.

“You’re alive,” he whispered into your neck, sounding emotional. You probed into him and felt it, too, pure relief and happiness invading the Force anywhere near him. And after weeks of nothing but pain, it was sweet like nothing else in the galaxy.

“You’re alive,” you responded, pressing your whole body deeper into him. “I thought- Obi-Wan told me-”

“Obi-Wan wants to destroy us,” Anakin said, cutting you off. “He ambushed me on Mustafar and tried to kill me.” He pulled his chest away just far enough to press his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry you had to survive being with him. If I had known- I’m so sorry.”

“You couldn’t feel me?” You had felt his pain so clearly, even if you hadn’t known it was his. Why couldn’t he feel yours?

“No, I...” he lowered his head to kiss you, briefly, and you chased his mouth as he left. Like you were teenagers hiding in the hallway of the Jedi temple, you tried to speak in between the kisses, in the moments where you repositioned or pulled away to breathe. “I must’ve-” he lifted you up, holding you against him, hands pressing and holding all over you before moving on, as though he were checking that every bit of you was still there. “I must’ve been too focused on my own grief.” You pulled away for just a moment, cupping his face.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, “I’m here now. We’re here- we’re okay.” Only now did you notice the gold in his eyes, but it complemented the way he looked at you, and you sank back down into another kiss.

He took you inside, and you couldn’t be damned to notice anywhere he carried you. You just rested your body on top of him, pressing your lips to his neck every once in a while, feeling content like you hadn’t since... probably since you were married, before the Clone Wars began.

Wherever he’d taken you seemed to be his home, based on the way the bed was unmade. He always left the sheets scattered. He sat, setting you into his lap, and you once again let your hands come to his face, your fingers slipping into his hair, your thumb running over his scar, staring into golden eyes. You missed the blue- but the gold made you shiver. He cupped your face to match, and you pressed your cheekbone into his flesh hand.

“What happened to you?” He asked, rubbing his thumbs along the dark skin under your eyes.

“I haven’t been sleeping,” you admitted, letting out a breath.

“I don’t blame you,” he said with a small smile, “Obi-Wan hovering over you, and all. Luckily-” With a twist of his hips he tossed you onto the bed, and followed, crawling over you, caging you in with his arms. “We’ve got a bed right here.”

Laying on your back, you looked up at him, and this view was so familiar, it ached deep in you to see it again. The corner of your mouth turned up in a smirk.

“Are you actually going to let me sleep?” His eyes flicked over you for a moment, considering.

“No, I don’t think so.”

~~~

With Anakin by your side again, you regained your strength. With you strength, you began training. With your training came anger, with anger came rage.

You’d been left to waste away for nearly a month, because Obi-Wan was too afraid of Anakin. Afraid of you! He feared what you could become if you returned to your husband, and he was right to. You, like Anakin, felt more powerful than you ever had before. With you alive, and by his side, he felt no anguish, you felt no pain, and so you could jump higher, strike faster, the Force flowed through you like wind, guiding you toward a mountaintop. Your saber skills were stronger than they’d ever been, you were faster, your focus clearer.

And your latest focus had been one Emperor Palpatine.

He was... a character, that’s for sure. You didn’t hold malice toward him, not the way you did Obi-Wan, but his choices in the past certainly were questionable. Maybe he needed to get into power, and maybe he needed to start a trade war to do it, but he certainly didn’t need to put Padme in danger.

You had a number of small grievances with him, but there was one major issue.

He sat in a throne clearly meant for Anakin.

Anakin was the chosen one, meant to bring balance, and he had. Anakin had ended the war when he destroyed the Separatists and he’d brought down the oppressive, misguided Jedi order. Anakin was the most powerful Force user in the galaxy, it was plain to see. Palpatine was just a manipulative politician who hadn’t realized the full extent of the Sith teachings- that the master was meant to die. The student was meant to kill. If anyone was meant to rule the galaxy, it was Anakin! He was meant to bring balance, and had learned from the dark and the light side of the Force. That was certainly more than Palpatine could claim!

You’d spent your time around politicians. You knew how they think. You’d spent time around Sith, and knew what they valued.

Which made Palpatine was easy to read.

“You want to kill me,” you stated, one night, when you’d gotten him alone.

“My friend-”

“You know that I’m the one thing that keeps you from controlling Anakin completely.” Sidious didn’t respond, knowing he was caught. “And you need to control him, because you know he could destroy you, if he wanted to.”

“That’s fine, I respect that,” you said, a nonchalant shrug to your shoulders. Anakin’s pain had been such a raw, burning feeling, for so long, that nothing affected you anymore. “Just know that if he knows you’re involved in my death at all, he’ll turn against you. Know that I won’t die without a fight- and the louder a fuss I make, the less he’ll trust you.” You turned from him without being excused, and approached the door, stopping within its frame to add one more thing.

“He’s smarter than you give him credit for,” you said, a threat in your tone.

Palpatine had told Anakin that you were dead, that day. So now, he knew that Sidious was willing to lie to him.

Anakin doesn’t take to deceit very nicely.

So, not long after the very nice conversation you had with Sidious, the throne and title of Emperor belonged to Anakin Skywalker, Emperor Vader.

The details of how such a change happened don’t matter to much. Palpatine was very old, you see, he’d lived quite a long and successful life...

The grandest achievement of it, of course, the Galactic Empire, was passed on to his once-pupil to rule as he saw fit.

And damn, did it look good on him.

-🦌 Roe

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theeternalblue · 3 years

Note

maybe them meeting their daughters girlfriend, or their sons friends thinking veronicas hot when they go to their house, idk you pick

(I didn't edit this. Sorry for the mistakes)

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Archie asks as she follows Veronica around the kitchen he remodeled last summer with his own hands to distract himself from the imminent fact that his baby girl would be going to college and he was fast approaching his midlife crisis. Freddie mocked him and therefore he was punished into painting cabinets under Veronica’s ruthless quality inspection.

Veronica opens one food container her favorite caterer just dropped with some fancy-looking salad, and a smile grows on her face. There are several more filling the kitchen island.

“Because we want to have family time with our children and friends, enjoying homemade food.” She opens the next container with beet hummus, and she quietly adds, “and I don’t cook but we can always pretend.”

Snorting a laugh, Archie wraps his arms around her middle from behind and presses a kiss to her cheek. “You’re the best organizing and bossing people around, the Veronica Lodge brand. Besides, I’ll be manning the grill so we can count that as homemade.”

“You seem to forget I’m an excellent mixologist. One does not own a bar without learning a few tricks.” Veronica turns around in Archie’s arms, her eyebrow kinking up.

Archie leans closer to her, provoking a smile on her beautiful face, “We also swore we wouldn’t tell our kids about your entire business history and I wouldn’t tell a thing about my vigilante days.”

She giggles and makes a shushing gesture by placing a finger over her lips, before she rises on tiptoes to give him a kiss. It’s funny how after decades together, after a long marriage and children, she’s still fond of playing with his ears when she kisses him. Veronica’s nails rake the short hairs of the back of his head – where she claimed to have spotted a few gray hairs just last week.

Kissing his wife is certainly one of his favorite things – and it must be good for his blood pressure because it soothes him and has kept him sane for years. No one could blame him when he hums in delight from deep within his chest but of course they will anyway.

“Ew, Daddy, we have guests,” Audrey quips when she enters the kitchen, hand in hand with a slightly taller girl with red hair who is smiling in amusement.

“Shush, Addie. Just like you, I have the right to kiss my beloved. Even more so after more than thirty years.” Veronica pecks Archie’s lips once more to make her point.

Audrey chuckles and turns to her girlfriend. “So, BB, are your moms as disgusting as these ancient creeps?”

Bella Blossom might be Cheryl’s kid but she was raised by Toni as well, so instead of making a snide remark, her eyes widen and she stares at her girlfriend’s parents not knowing what to say.

“Watch it,” Archie warns with a lopsided grin and winks at the girls. “We’re happy you can join us for lunch today, Bella.” He walks past them, dropping a kiss atop Audrey’s hair, making her giggle.

“Thank you, Mr. Andrews.”

Oh, how he dislikes being Mr. Andrews. Is there anything else that can make him feel older? Only the way his knee hurts when he hits the gym and he doesn’t warm up.

As he makes his way outside to the backyard deck, Archie hears Audrey teasing Veronica about her home-cooked meal. It’s a running joke in the family how each time the kids had a bake sale, Veronica spent more money buying pastries than the school made selling them.

Burgers are almost done when Cheryl and Toni arrive. This time he’s not lucky and gets a few of those Cheryl Blossom’s snarky remarks while Toni makes damage control because Bella seems upset to see her mumsy being insufferable.

“I sometimes wonder what you did in your past life to have this kind of karma,” Jughead comments before taking a sip of his beer. “Lodges, Blossoms…”

“Bears,” Munroe jests but Archie doesn’t pay much attention to his friends when he spots three of Freddie’s friends looking at his wife too intensely for his taste.

It’s a known fact Veronica was deemed the hot mom years ago when Audrey started high school, and even before that when she was teaching and she was the hot teacher. She always tells him he can’t complain because the same thing happened to him – well, tough luck, because he hasn’t noticed other people lusting after him.

He hands the spatula and grill fork to Jughead so he can take care of the barbecue without thinking. Fortunately, Munroe decides to help instead when he sees the panic etched on the writer’s face.

“Hey, guys,” Archie greets the teenage boys huddled in a corner, with a smile that makes his face hurt. He’s never been good at pretending. “Do you want a beer?” An easy test to fail for a group of fifteen-year-olds. And they are boys, so they hesitate before one of them makes the right choice by meekly shaking his head.

With a humorless laugh, Archie smacks the shoulders of two of them, with much more force than needed. “Good choice. But you must be thirsty. Were you thinking about having a drink?” He tries, this time looking at his wife pointedly. But again, these teenage kids won’t take a hint.

Veronica is serving a cocktail and chatting with Cheryl. When she feels his gaze on her, she winks at Archie and makes a simple gesture to beckon him.

Just then Freddie returns to his friends, holding a bowl of sweet potato chips and baba ganoush – because this kid might be a carbon copy of Archie’s dad but he definitely has Veronica’s sense of style and palate.

“Kid, your friends are thirsty,” Archie says without preamble and because this is Veronica Lodge’s son, he knows it will take Freddie less than a second to pick up what he means. One look shot at the bar, the tilt of his head, an arched eyebrow and… “You should be a good host.”

Freddie has a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll get you something, and then I can tell you how in my family as a rite of passage in our family you must fight a bear–”

“Freddie–” Archie’s eyes widen. Veronica hates that story. She absolutely loathes it to the point Jughead enjoyed irking her by giving teddy bears to the children for their first birthdays. “Don’t”

“Why not? I thought you’d like for them to know you fought a bear, were in the army, worked as a firefighter, and in construction so you basically know how to kill them and make them disappear in hundreds of ways and no one would find them.” Then he turns sharply and stares at his friends. “Also, I advise you to stop looking at my mother because let’s face it, you think you’re good-looking but you’re not. She’s smarter than the three of you put together. Richer than everyone else in town. And with beauty only good genes I inherited can give.” He sighs. “So, unless you fought a bear, is there anything that makes you stand out in this place?”

“Dude,” one of Freddie’s friends mutters. It feels like this talk was a bit harsh, but Freddie also hated when Audrey’s friends flirted with Veronica.

“I know! Sad. I go to therapy because living under my parents’ shadow is unbearable,” Freddie replies, which is a lie. This boy is a Lodge in the body of an Andrews – and it’s scary.

When Archie makes his way to Veronica, he immediately wraps an arm around her and pulls her close to bury his nose in her hair.

“What?” she laughs at his childish gesture.

“Our children scare me,” Archie confesses.

“You realized it just now?” Veronica leans against his side, enjoying his hold on her.

“No, but I hate having more proof.”

She chuckles and soon cackles when he tells her what happened.

“Think about this, at least Freddie didn’t lock me in the supplies closet at school like Audrey did when her classmates ogled you on her eighth-grade talent show.”

#varchie #varchie drabble #varchie fanfiction #older varchie #[mine]

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baby-bearie · 4 years

Text

the waves don’t move here

(NOT MY GIF)

jj maybank x reader

taglist: @sunflowermotel @howdyherron @drew-starkey @maraseavey @outerbanqs @yelyahryan @loveylangdon @obxwriterfan @avashroom @rewindlr @raekenliar @ceruleanjj @dolanfivsosxox @heyhargrove @lashtonandmalumsbaby @beautyandthebleh @pancahke @outrbank @kiarasflowr @corleigh @poguemacking @kristineee-obx @shawnssongs @thorsangel @daniel9seavey9 @hopefultrashforanythingreally @maybe-maybanks @katie-avery @snarkystarkey @5sos-seavey @jjmaebank

a/n: i know y’all don’t like the magical stuff as much, but i kind of liked this idea so this one’s for me :)

The sky is a weird shade of blue.

That’s all you can think about. The sky is a brighter shade of blue than it normally is. Everything looks brighter.

The trees are overly green, the road is nearly blinding you with how much the asphalt is reflecting the sun, and you realize you have no clue where you are.

Or how you got there.

You’re standing in the middle of the street. There is absolutely nobody around. It’s eerily silent.

Not even a bird chirps.

You search your brain to try and figure out how you wound up here. The street around you looks vaguely familiar. The look of the houses, the sound of waves crashing nearby tell you you’re still home.

But you know every single inch of your island, and you’ve never been on this street before.

Your legs carry you down the street without you even realizing, and you’re suddenly facing the ocean. The dock you stand on is just as unfamiliar as the street was. It looks somewhat like home, but deep down you know it’s not. This is not home.

It doesn’t take you long to realize this is a dream. In what world would the Outer Banks ever be this quiet?

Once you realize, you settle yourself on the end of the dock, dipping your legs into the water. There are no ships in sight. The ocean is open, endless. The water doesn’t move.

You’ve always wondered what it would be like to lucid dream. You’re pretty sure the very first step is to realize you’re dreaming.

Check. You pinch your arm to see if you can wake yourself up and nothing happens.

Maybe you can control the dream. Maybe you can manifest a tiger.

You close your eyes and scrunch them up tightly.

How do you create a tiger? You try and picture one in your mind.

You peek one eye open. No tiger.

Okay, maybe you need to say it out loud. “A tiger.”

You point to the dock, still closing your eyes.

“Roar?”

The sound of a voice, a human voice, makes you open your eyes and turn sharply.

It’s a boy. About your age, too. He seats himself next to you.

Apparently, your subconscious definitely knows how to make your perfect guy. He’s not a tiger, but he’s a hell of a lot better.

You’re not waking up anytime soon. You might as well play along.

“Hi,” you deadpan.

“Hi,” his voice is filled with confusion. “I’m JJ.”

Your subconscious knows what you like really well if it’s making a voice like that.

“I’m Y/n. But, you know. You probably know that.” You laugh. This is so weird. You’re introducing you to yourself.

“Why would I know that?” JJ questions, sounding more confused than before.

“Because, you know,” You nod at JJ, assuming this manifestation of yourself understands. He just shrugs.

“So, like, who are you? Like, what are you doing here?” You prod.

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” He shoots back. Now it’s your turn to be confused.

“No?”

You don’t remember how long you talked to JJ that night. You remember telling him how you can’t stand the texture of mushy apples, though. You remember him telling you the craziest things about a treasure hunt.

God, you really did have an overactive imagination.

When you wake up the next morning, the only thing you can recall other than JJ is the way the waves didn’t move.

You spend the day at work, bussing tables at the Wreck. It’s a good distraction from your running mind.

When your head hits the pillow that night, you keep him in your mind. You can’t manifest a tiger, but hopefully you can manifest a boy.

You open your eyes and you’re on the street again. This time, you know exactly where you are. You sprint down the street, not stopping until the small houses have turned into the familiar dock. You run towards the ocean.

He’s already there when you get there. He’s sitting in the same spot, and turns to look at you as your bare feet thud on the ground.

“You came,” JJ smiles.

“I think I would have found you even if I didn’t try.” “We don’t really get much choice, do we.”

You take your place next to him.

“So, you wanna tell me more about this treasure hunt of yours?”

You know when you wake up, you won’t remember this. You tell him how you cry when you watch those puppy commercials. He tells you how he loves the feeling of the sun on his back after he’s been surfing.

You tell him how your sister died when you were little. He tells you about his fear of his dad.

You’re both silent for a moment. Everything is silent. The waves don’t crash. The waves don’t move.

When you wake up, you stare up at the ceiling for a moment. He should’ve been real. You’ve never been able to connect with anyone like you’ve connected with the boy in your dreams.

But it’s just you. Just your brain coping with itself by creating a version of you to connect with.

You haven’t talked with anybody like that in a long time.

Nights after nights pass, and you continue to meet JJ in your dreams. You know you’re not really talking to someone, but it feels good to get it all of your chest. To just keep talking and know someone can listen. You tell him things you’re not even sure you really knew about yourself.

Many of those nights, JJ talks to you. He tells you his dad hits him. You’re not sure what to say.

He tells you some crazy things. You listen, and marvel at the way your brain has crafted this boy. This perfect boy.

Over these nights, things change. It’s in the way he places his hand on yours when he sits next to you. It’s in the way he looks at you when he listens to you talk. It’s in the way you realize JJ isn’t just a piece of your imagination.

The last time you meet JJ at the dock, you tell him you haven’t figured out how to surf, but you’re trying to learn. That makes him smile.

“I love surfing! I wish I could teach you.”

“Of course you do.” “What does that mean?” JJ frowns.

“Of course you love surfing. You’re just the perfect embodiment of who I’ve been looking for, so of course you know how to surf. You know how to surf because I want to surf.”

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” “Yeah, yeah, you’ll- sorry, I’ll never admit it. You’re not real.”

“No, you’re not real.”

You turned your head so fast that if this was real, you would’ve had whiplash.

“What?” “I know you’re not real, man. My brain just gave me someone to talk to because I couldn’t take being alone anymore.” JJ sighs.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you’re real, aren’t you?” You whisper.

There’s no way this can be true. You couldn’t have spent the past months calling yourself crazy for being in love with a boy in your dreams just to find out that he was real.

“Yeah? I wish you were.” “JJ, I am.” “Quit it. There’s no one like you in my world. I would’ve found you by now.” “I’m not kidding, this whole time I thought you were just my imagination, but,” you take a breath in, “but you’re real. Aren’t you?”

“So, so what? We’re both just dreaming the same dreams?” “I don’t know. I guess?” “Nah, this doesn’t make sense. What if we’re sleepwalking? Maybe we just sleepwalk to the same spot.” “JJ, that makes less sense.” “It makes just as much sense as us sharing dreams!” “The waves don’t move here, JJ.” You waved a hand towards the still water.

JJ left first that night. When you woke up, you tried to remember everything he had said to you. With each passing minute, more and more slipped away from you.

What did he tell you? Something about surfing?

All you could remember was the feeling. You remembered the overwhelming feeling of relief. As if a thousand pounds had been lifted off your shoulders. As if you could breathe again.

You couldn’t focus at work. You nearly dropped an entire plate of sandwiches and soup on a poor group of teenagers.

When you took your break, you retreated outside for a breather. You sighed and leaned your head back against the building.

“You’re so weird, Pope.” “I’m just saying!” The voices of teenage boys rung out in the air, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned and rushed back into the restaurant, aggressively re-tying the apron around your waist and tugging your hair back into a rubber band.

The door blew open as you turned to clear dishes off of a nearby table. You didn’t check to see as they seated themselves at a table in your section. They must’ve been the people from outside. Setting down your tray, you hustled over to the new table, fumbling to get your pad out.

“Hi, welcome to the Wreck, do you need a second or can I get you started with,” The rest of your sentence failed to slip out. You had just managed to get the pen out of your pocket when you looked at the table and the words died in your mouth. There were 3 boys. 2 of them you didn’t recognize.

One you definitely did.

JJ’s lips parted and his eyes grew wide. Your pen clattered to the floor, long forgotten. Neither of you could find it in you to say anything.

The other two boys seemed more confused, calling their friend’s name.

“Is this,” JJ got out, his finger mindlessly twirling around his head, “am I dreaming again?”

You tore your eyes away from JJ to look out the window, out towards the water.

The waves were crashing, pulled by the ebb and flow of the water.

You shook your head.

“I’m, uh. I’m JJ.” His voice was unsteady, just as unsure as you were that this could be real.

“I’m Y/n. But you probably know that.”

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cupcakemolotov · 3 years

Text

Road to Ruin

I... have no idea where this came from. But hey, I’ll take almost 2K of story after a drought of words. SFW, character death, probably some angst. You can read it here on A03 if you prefer.

Caroline had missed the Memorial Service.

Finals at NYU had been brutal, her schedule packed and tangled tightly together after a truly unfair back to back testing schedule. She’d wanted nothing more than to climb into her lumpy dorm bed and sleep for a week, but she’d promised Bonnie she’d try to make it.

She hadn’t.

But that was the fault of May storms and erratic flight schedules, not her personal choice. By the time her mom picked her up in Richmond, five hours late and dragging with exhaustion no number of espresso shots could perk up, it was dark and raining. She’d fallen asleep in the car, dragged herself into the house, and had just enough energy to change before diving into her bed for the sleep she’d been missing for what felt like weeks.

Elena was dead.

The news had come five days before finals, and after sobbing her eyes out on her RA’s shoulder, she’d pulled herself together and buried herself in all night study sessions and endless equations. But the knowledge had lingered, that this friend of hers who had grown so distant the last year, more distant than any amount of school schedules and new friends could allow for when Caroline was a devout texter, was gone. She’d cried in the shower, for the girl who she’d once known and would never know again.

Shifting her weight on the damp grass, Caroline studied the freshly dug grave. The last few years before graduation hadn’t been good for their friendship, High School having been a roller coaster of drama and boys that was expected, she supposed. But if only that had been the only drama, she was certain they wouldn't have grown so far away from each other. There had been that weird mass grave that someone had found that had kept her mom busy for months dealing with the locals and the FBI, the weird way the old boarding house had been repaired seemingly to open up only to remain empty. Those strangers who her mom had not liked who had asked questions about a couple of weird gravestones in the museum. That series of petty thefts that had kept her mom even busier than the mass grave and its collection of weird historians and FBI investigations, that had finally culminated in some family heirlooms being stolen from the Lockwoods.

Tyler had bitched for months about it. Weirdly, it had been those complaints that had been the deciding factor that had her breaking up with him. Yeah, the sex had been good, but a girl did not need pillow talk about family heirlooms and how upset his mom had been. Any boyfriend worth their salt (and teenage hormones) should have been far too distracted by her being naked right there, not their moms.

She shuddered a little, thinking about it.

The second half of their junior year had been a mess, and been made worse when Aunt Jenna had died. Caroline’s fingers tightened on the bouquet she was holding, thinking of all the deaths that had accumulated that year. Aunt Jenna. Her Dad. Carol Lockwood. How terrified she had been that her mom would end up next, logical or not.

Then there had been the way Elena had gone all weirdly obsessed with finding her biological parents, the way it had driven her as if it was something outside of herself she couldn't control. Caroline studied the tops of the flowers she held in her hand, wondering if not for the first time if she could have done something different. Been a better friend, helped Elena in some way. Those long weeks that first Christmas when Elena had decided to spend it alone, how she had refused to answer a single text message until she’d shown back up at school, dark circles under eyes like an underfed anemic.

She’d been… different, after that. Less boy crazy and more… mature. And that summer, she’d gone to meet a family claiming to be hers. And when she’d come home, she’d been so happy. Bouncing, sparkling happy. Cousins, she’d said. Brother’s and a sister who said that her mother had been theirs and they’d been looking for her.

Family.

That was what Caroline wanted to remember her. The girl who sat with her for hours after Bill died, both of them quiet, legs tangled on Caroline’s bed. The girl who liked board games and pink lipstick and who had terrible taste in shoes. Her friend. Not the girl from their Senior year who had slowly become something else entirely. Pale and wane, short tempered and then so, so quiet. The girl whose new family moved into Mansion at the edge of town that had been empty for decades, who paid for an expensive car and clothes and who never came to a single game to watch her cheer.

Letting out a slow breath, she set the flowers she’d brought down on the grave and chewed on her lower lip. People usually said things at graves, didn’t they? But she’d never been good at that sort of thing. Not at her Dad’s grave, and not here, standing over the bones of her friend. She’d brought daisy’s because Elena liked them, and she briefly closed her eyes, hoping that Elena knew she was here, that she missed her, and that even if she reached the old age of one hundred, she’d remember the night she and Elena and Bonnie had laughed until they cried over the most ridiculous of conversations, until they’d had to scramble to pretend they’d been sleeping when her mom came home at dawn after her shift.

That would be the Elena she’d take with her.

Swallowing hard, she turned on one heel and jerked to a stop, heart slamming into her throat as she found a man she didn’t recognize lingering far too close to her. He was only a few inches taller than her, but something about the utter stillness of his posture, the way she hadn’t heard him walk up behind her, her usual excellent sense of people taught by her mother and perfected in the subway system having failed to ping at her, left her breathless with surprise. For a moment, Caroline struggled to get her pulse under control before narrowing her eyes. “Excuse you, creepy much? Most people have the decency not to loom in graveyards.”

A sudden hint of a smile played across a distractingly full mouth, and he reached up and pushed his sunglasses up into his rumpled curls, something about the way he was looking at her sending the faintest hint of alarm down her spine. “Spend a lot of time in graveyards?”

“That is none of your business,” Caroline said, letting her voice frost over in disapproval.

“Apologies, love.” He said, body shifting from that hair raising awareness to a soft charm she might have liked if she hadn’t seen him looking at her like she was a particularly interesting bug. “I didn't recall seeing you at the funeral, and I’m sure I would have remembered you.”

Something about him, the way his eyes never left hers, put her back up. She hadn’t spent the last two years in New York City to let some weirdo stranger intimidate her now. “I don’t recognize you at all,” she said primly. “So that means you were fairly new to Elena’s life. Do you make a habit of memorizing faces at funerals? That seems like the sort of thing that would alarm a psychologist.”

The curve of his mouth deepened, and to her despair, he had dimples. “You must be Caroline Forbes. Ms. Bennett was disappointed that you missed the service.”

Caroline shrugged, stubbornly holding his gaze though it was starting to bother her that he didn’t blink. “May storms are a bitch. And neither Bonnie nor Elena mentioned anyone who would match your description.”

He looked intrigued. “Do you usually ask for physical descriptions of their acquaintances?”

“And pictures of their drivers licenses,” she retorted. “So that if they go missing, I know where to direct my mother to find them, but you're definitely not either of their types, and since you think you have some claim on Elena, that must mean you belong to the Mikaelson family. Which one are you?”

She didn't do much to hide what she thought of his family, and it didn’t seem to bother him.

“Smart,” he murmured. “I’m Klaus.” And then he offered her his hand, something like a challenge lingering at the back of his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Caroline.”

It was a dare. And she was terrible at turning those down, even as her instincts warned her that there was something about this man she wasn’t seeing. But she was also standing twenty feet away from a number of her own dead relatives, and Grandma Forbes would haunt her forever if she was rude to this man in front of her. Baring her teeth in something like a smile, she took his hand. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Laughter had lit his eyes a half moment before their skin touched, and something she couldn’t describe rolled down her spine. More sensation than feeling, she felt it down to her feet, and it left her pulse pounding. She pulled her hand back, too quick to be polite, but she didn’t care as she stared at the man who had gone still and so quietly dangerous, she was debating reaching for the pepper stray attached to her keys.

She could probably get it out and in his face before he lunged.

Maybe.

Klaus’ fingers had curled into his palm, as if he too had felt whatever that had been, and the blue of his eyes were doing something strange, and Caroline became intensely aware of everything around them. The buzz of summer insects, the shape of his stupidly plush mouth, the smell of fresh turned dirt. It was the near silent buzz of an incoming text that broke the staring contest between them. Senses hyper-alert, she pulled her phone out of her purse and saw that she had two missed calls from Bonnie. Glancing up from her lashes to find that Klaus hadn’t looked away, so she pasted on her best false smile and shrugged.

“Well, Klaus, I’m sure this is where I should say something polite about seeing you around, but that seems super unlikely,” Caroline said with a false shrug of disappointment. “So, I’ll just say bye instead.”

A lowering of his lashes, something behind his eyes that burned her skin. “Hmm, I suppose we’ll see, won’t we? The family has decided to stick around a bit longer, give ourselves time to mourn. You may be surprised how much you’ll see us.”

Caroline snorted and stepped around him. “History of your family’s willingness to grace the town with your presence says otherwise.” But because her grandma had raised her right, and was probably seriously judging her only granddaughter from the plot just a few feet away, she smiled and waved, just like her pageant days had taught her. And only when she was almost to her car, did she relax enough to look at her text.

And felt her heart drop to her toes.

I don’t think Elena is dead.

Brows tucking tightly together, she went through the motions of unlocking the car door, glancing back towards the man lingering in the graveyard. Klaus hadn't moved, except to slid his hands into his pockets and to turn to watch her. She could still feel the imprint of his fingers against hers, the heat and calluses of him, the shock of him down her spine. For a moment, she tried to remember what Elena had told her about her biological family, the people who went through all the right motions but never showed her friend the care she deserved. The brother’s who had been so considerate, and offered her anything money could buy but not a single ounce of affection. Lifting her chin, she narrowed her eyes, even though she knew he couldn't see her.

Let him think what he wanted. She was fairly certain she’d never see him again. Klaus, who stood in graveyards in pressed slacks and rosaries around his throat. Something was going on there, and the last thing she needed was for him to turn out to be some kind of serial killer.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the engine and set her teeth, only then allowing herself to really absorb what Bonnie had sent her. Not dead? What was Bonnie thinking? And if she was right, why would the Mikaelson’s lie?

Why bury Elena, fake or otherwise, with the ghosts if she wasn’t really dead?

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction

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amintyworld · 3 years

Text

I Failed You - Dream SMP Drabble

A/N: Concept just hit me last night I was itching to write - what if Ranboo’s mental state worsens to the point that he becomes almost fully enderman? I was thinking about how it could happen, how others would react. Also, I think Ranboo deserves his own drabble, he’s a really interesting character.

TW: Body Transfromation, Amnesia, panic attack, character death mention. (As always, tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

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

Loud sounds - metal against metal filled the prison as the iron door shut loudly, leaving the two inside the walls with no hope of escape. Ranboo clutched his book tightly as he slid down to the ground, his back against the wall as he sighed in defeat. He didn’t know what he was thinking - why did he have to get in the middle of it, he could have warned the others, they could have come to help, why did he have to play some kind of hero?

As punishment for going after Dream, he called in the favor from Technoblade to round up the two teenagers to be put in prison. Tubbo was off gathering resources, oblivious, and Ranboo knew they’d be going for Tommy first. He didn’t even bother saying goodbye to Phil, he just... he just ran to the dirt shack to warn Tommy.

He didn’t know why, he just... he couldn’t have Tommy be taken again, not after what happened last time, not after what Dream did to him before.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You weren’t thinking ahead and now no one’s going to know where you are. They’re not going to care about where you are, especially not Phil after you left him like that. You were the only one who knew anything about this.

It’s not like you had much of a choice, i mean... it’s Technoblade, he destroyed L’manburg, Tommy wouldn’t stand a chance against him alone.

You left Tubbo alone.

I left Tubbo alone.

I’m a horrible friend, he trusted me and I left him all alone. Technoblade was so mad at me... I’ve never seen him that mad before... would Tubbo even... Technoblade might take it out on him. Technoblade might kill him and it’s all your fault.

It’s all my fault, he’s going to die and it’s all my fault-

“Ranboo?”

Ranboo snapped out of his thoughts, realizing how hard he gripped the book, how scratched the leather became... it was almost night now. How long had it been? Tommy looked over at him from the bed in the corner, knees up to his chest and his hair messed up more than normal, his hands running through it in a nervous habit. Tommy looked worried, concerned. “I... huh?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uhm, yeah. Yeah, why’d you ask?”

“You were mumbling, I was trying to calm you down but then you started making... really weird noises, I didn’t know if you were hurt, or..?”

“No. No, I’m fine.”

Liar.

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

It had been three days since they both got put into the prison. Three days of Tommy pacing up and down the cell, trying out plan after plan of trying to escape. Tommy tried ramming the cell door with his body, the bed, chest, everything. He tried breaking one of the iron bars to reach the lever and let them out. He tried making some kind of prison shiv and slowly chipping away at the wall.

Ranboo sat, alone with nothing but him and his thoughts. The only thing on his mind was the simple fact that Tubbo wasn’t here. He knew their plan, he heard what they were trying to do - they wanted to imprison both Tommy and Tubbo.

If Tubbo wasn’t here, then... then he was right. Tubbo was dead.

He failed Tubbo. He failed Tommy. He didn’t do enough, he wasn’t enough, He hurt everyone. He didn’t help Tommy, he couldn’t save Tubbo. He left Phil without saying goodbye, he didn’t even thank him for letting him stay-

You used him. You used everyone.

I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to help people, I wanted to save people, I wanted to help my friends.

Are they even your friends anymore? You ruined them, you ruined everything. Tommy would have gotten away if you didn’t distract him. Tubbo would have lived if you didn’t betray the only people who showed you kindness.

I didn’t, I... I didn’t want to... I just wanted to help-

“Ranboo...?”

Yeah, sure. You helped plenty when you used Phil and Techno, and you helped Dream get Tommy and Tubbo. You’re the only problem. You’re the real problem on this whole server, not Dream, everyone would’ve been so much better without you trying to ‘help’!

“Ranboo, you’re scaring me, stop it.”

You pretend you’re everyone’s friend, but you’re nothing but a liar. You’re a liar.

I-

I... I didn’t mean...

“Ranboo, talk to me, please. Just talk to me.”

You failed.

......

I failed.

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

Tommy gripped his friend’s arm as he shook him slightly. “Ranboo, please. I need to... Ranboo-” Ranboo’s body shook as that same glitched voice from before ran through the cell, increasing Tommy’s worry. His half-enderman friend’s eyes grew wide as he began to mumble softly to himself. “Ranboo, you need to calm down, man-”

IfailedIfailedIfailedIfailedIfailedIfailedIfailedIfailedIfailed-

His friend’s grip tensed on the book in his hands, and suddenly... it stopped. Silence.

Slowly, a spiderweb of pitch black cracks spiraled across the white half of his face, spiraling toward his red eye, and to Tommy’s dismay it briefly flashed purple. He stepped back slightly in surprise as Ranboo stood, his book tossed aside and forgotten. HIs gaze was transfixed on Tommy, almost in curiosity of him. “Ranboo..?”

Ranboo blinked, the cracks across his face growing darker, bolder. He tilted his head as he looked at the teen, stepping closer and making Tommy back up, eventually against a corner across the room. A loud glitched noise erupted from him, and suddenly... he was gone.

“What...?”

He heard a loud noise and looked out fo the bars - how did he teleport?!

Wait - it doesn’t matter. Now they can get out!

“Ranboo, just flick the lever- flick it down and we can get out, okay?” Ranboo just looked at Tommy confused, let out another glitchy screech, and suddenly he was back inside next to Tommy, who was very startled at the teleportation. Tommy groaned in frustration. “No, you were supposed to let us out!”

Ranboo looked at the teen, searching his face for a moment before letting out a happy glitchlike chirp and petting Tommy’s fluffy hair, which Tommy quickly pulled away from to his friend’s dismay.

“Ranboo, what’s gotten into you?!”

Ranboo just looked at Tommy confused, before smiling again to reach and pet his hair fondly, leading Tommy to swat his hand away again.

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

Two weeks. Tommy had been in Pandora’s Vault for two weeks now. After a week of escape attempts, he eventually had to give up. It was twisted, really - how escape was so close but so far. He wondered about what was going on out there - if Tubbo was okay, if Ghostbur was Wilbur again. He was cut off from the outside world with no possible way of knowing whether his friends were okay, if they were even alive.

Since Ranboo seemed uninterested in it, Tommy slowly began to read and eventually continue Ranboo’s book. He knew his friend had changed but Tommy didn’t know into exactly what. Whatever he turned into, it seemed safe to assume he remembered him, or at least liked him. He promised himself that if he ever got out of this, he’d get Ranboo help.

It seemed his friend was getting worse by the day, his skin slowly evening out into a dark black and his red eye ever so slowly turning purple. He realized quickly that Ranboo’s state was like a baby chick, almost. Kind of in many ways, like Ghostbur. He’d always hang around Tommy and gave small happy enderman chirps when Tommy would allow him to cuddle with him on particularly cold nights in the cell. it didn’t seem like he understood English or any other spoken word at all, despite Tommy’s best efforts to get him to understand.

The weirdest thing, however, was his obsession with fluffy and soft things. He liked playing with Tommy’s hair, for one, and playing with a small feather that leaked out of the bed pillow, even running his hands along the soft blanket made him happy. It was strange to Tommy how simple it was to just make his friend smile when he’d been struggling with that himself for way too long.

As for why or how the transformation occured, all Tommy really had to go on were Ranboo’s notes, the book, and within the pages he could sense how distressed Ranboo was, how much he hid it so well from so many people. How he put others first so much, how loyal he was to not just him, but to everyone. Even now, his mind went over and over the last thing he wrote:

‘I failed everyone.’

Looking back, all Tommy could think was one single thing: ‘No, you didn’t fail me, I failed you.’

He should have tried to understand - he should have been there. He should have been more accepting, more open to that he had someone to talk to, someone that he felt like was always on his side. He just wanted to do the right thing and be accepted by everyone, but instead everyone rejected him.

If anyone would know how it felt like to have the entire world against them, it would be him - and he wasn’t there for Ranboo when he was there for him, visited him during exile and helped him.

As he was snapped awake late at night watching the large vault door open in front of him through the iron bars, the door he didn’t believe would open ever again, he looked over to Ranboo as he moved to keep him close. He’d protect him. He wouldn’t fail him again.

Never again.

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bakubitch-minusultra · 3 years

Text

Not Alone: Chapter Two

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck I want :3 ik last post says bakugo is the main love interest but that tis not true anymore there will be a love triangle k bye

-> Word Count: 3.9k (lowkey popped off once again)

-> Warnings: Blood, mentions of gun, mentions of sexual assault

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat [if anyone wants to be added feel free to lmk <3]

Y/n sat by the fire, zoning out while watching the flames as Hades sat pressed against her. Suddenly his ears perked up. Y/n’s aching feet twinged, begging her to not follow through with her instincts and stand. So she watches Hades as his hackles rise and makes no sound. Y/n believed that it was a survival instinct he picked up from her. He never gives himself away with a growl like a dog. Instead he hides in the shadows, waiting for his prey to make a move. Hades crept to the door of the old cabin and Y/n picked up the rifle and silencer that she had stolen from a military base. She crept low, just as Hades does.

They sat in the dark, waiting for any noise or movement. Y/n never turned the lanterns on; she rarely used fuel for anything. If someone’s here it followed the smell of the smoke from her fire.

Suddenly, in the dark of her cabin lit only by the glow of the fire, there is a sound.

The sound at her door was worse than anything Y/n had ever heard. This category included women being dragged into trucks while their kids scream on the side of the road. Worse than the sound clothing makes when greedy fingers tear it. Worse than listening to the infected eat people who are still alive.

It was a knock.

A simple yet quiet knock. It was timid. It felt as if the person knocking was too afraid to knock, but had no choice in the matter. It was like their failing bravery can only muster a tiny pathetic little tap. In the same breath the knock was pathetic, but it was also more frightening that anything Y/n has ever encountered.

The knock might as well have been one of the infected clawing at the door and making high pitched moans with the way Y/n trembled. Either way, it means she had been discovered.

Hades looked at her, he too seemed confused by the weak little knock at their cabin door. The very same cabin where she found Hades outside whining and scared of everything in the world, just as she was. The cabin where they sat together hiding, praying, hoping, that they would be left alone.

Y/n stood frozen, holding her gun and trembling.

Hades sunk into the shadows of the coat and boot closet as Y/n slid up against the wall and tried to take her breaths slowly. She doesn’t move, just watches Hades's yellow eyes. They were hypnotic in the way they never moved. They calmed her with the way they wait, focused and calm. She nodded at him, which made him crouch lower, ready.

She put the chain lock on, making no noise just like she’d practiced numerous times. Putting her hand on the knob she stepped back slowly and positioned her gun. Her hand was shaking as one finger was put on the trigger and the other hand turned the door knob to open it quietly. She had positioned one foot behind the door, in case whoever it was decided to kick the door open.

In the tiny crack of the door there were two eyes, black eyes. They belonged to a girl, younger than Y/n. Y/n thought she was maybe fifteen but no older. She had dirty pink hair and a gaunt face. Her tears clumped her black lashes together, which made the pleading look in her eyes tremendously convincing.

“I-I’m sorry please don’t hurt me.” Her lips trembled. She was shaking in fear as she sniffled.

Y/n quickly closed the door and clicked the light. She felt her stomach sink, she knew she was in a fight for her life. She was bait, Y/n thought. If she’s ever seen bait, that girl’s it.

Hades cocked his head as he sauntered to the door and sniffs. Y/n thought about just opening the door and freeing him on her, but his tail wags. That made her doubt his ability to eat the adorable girl.

“Please miss. I need your help. Please.” She shouted, no longer stuttering. Her voice was desperate as she banged on Y/n’s door. “Please, he's dying! My friend is dying, please!”

Y/n had watched children be left on the road screaming. She watched teenage girls get dragged into the woods and be forced to listen. Y/n had survived because she watched and listened. She ignored everyone at every cost. Several times she had lain under a truck with her eyes closed and waited for it to end. Waiting for the screaming to stop.

Y/n was sure that the girl was bait.

Y/n closed her eyes and waited, but the banging kept getting louder. If they weren’t already here they would hear the banging. Dejectedly, Y/n opened the door again, putting the tip of her gun through the door. She was ready to shoot and again she felt the path of the coward before her.

“If, if you kill me, please just go find him afterward. He’s hurt. They’ll find him. He’s a hole south of here. Please help him.” Her words weren’t a plea. She was resigned to die for him. She wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t like Y/n.

Y/n slumped and pulled her gun back, closing her eyes for a second to let herself acknowledge that this was a bad idea. She had no doubt in her mind that she would regret this. Y/n opened the door and watched as Hades walked cautiously to the girl, sniffling and circling her.

“Please if you must kill me just go to him. He’s back a ways down the big hill. He’s fallen in a hole and broken his leg I think. He isn’t conscious.” Y/n watched her eyes, they never darted. The girl was speaking the truth. Y/n didn’t say a word as she grabbed the bundle of rope she kept on the storage shelf and closed the door behind her. “Thank you so much. Thank you. My name is Mina.” She held her hands together like Y/n had saved her life. Her tears still pour down her face. She was small and weak, but appeared stronger than Y/n. Braver.

Y/n looked at her and chose to ignore her. After she had gotten Mina’s friend out of the hole she would send the two on their way. Hades rubbed himself against the girl.

“He’s not going to bite me?”

“He might. Let’s go. Stay in front of me where I can see you.”

Mina nodded and tucked a stray strand of her short pink hair behind her ear. She was thin, everyone was thin, but she was thinner than anyone Y/n has seen in a while. Y/n frowned herself at that thought. Who had she seen in months? No one.

Mina’s gaunt face told Y/n that her and her brother had been alone since the beginning. Like Y/n and Leo. No one takes care of her. She fights for everything she has. That is what made her Y/n’s enemy.

Y/n knew the exact hole her friend was in, if he was really in there.

Y/n kept her ears sharp and was thankful that Mina never spoke. It was easy to tell Mina was a survivor, she had common sense. She walked silently as Y/n did, her breathing was even. As the two girls approached the hole Y/n waited at the far side, assuming that she was being led to be pushed in. She had a bad feeling that they would take her cabin and leave her here to die.

Mina got onto her knees and crawled to the edge, “Kiri?”

“Mina?” A guy’s breathless voice rised from the hole.

Mina started to cry again, “Kiri we got rope, I found her. She’s back now. Everything will be okay now.”

Y/n felt the hair on her neck rise at the words ‘she’s back’, “How long have you been following me?”

Mina put a hand out, “Let me have the rope.” Y/n took a step back as Hades took one forward. Hades could sense Y/n’s agitation. “Just let me have the rope please, he’s hurt.” She pleads.

Y/n shook her head and pointed the rifle at the girl’s face, “How long have you been following me.”

When Mina realized Y/n wouldn’t let the question go she slumped slightly, “Two months. We stayed in the woods outside the cabin. We needed the well water. I’m sorry.”

Y/n wanted to feel nothing, but she knew that she was lucky. Her father had told her about the cabin in the woods his family owned. She knew she had somewhere to go when it all ended. They, on the otherhand, were no doubt, left with nothing. But that thought didn’t take away the sick feeling in Y/n’s stomach, knowing that she had been spied on for two months. Y/n glanced at Hades and raised an eyebrow. He knelt his head down slightly, he was ashamed but didn’t know why.

“I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you. We saw how many guns you had and we knew you had the wolf. We wanted to leave you alone but we had nowhere to go.”

A voice spoke up from the hole, “Look, don’t hurt Mina please, just pass me the rope and I’ll pull myself out. We won’t bother you again. I know you’re scared but we really are just regular people like you.”

Y/n heard her father’s voice again, ‘it’s us and them Y/n’ and remembered that there were no regular people in this world. Not anymore.

Y/n leaned her gun against a tree and Hades stood beside it at the ready, just like Y/n had trained him to. She turned the rope around the tree next to her and tossed the remainder of the rope down the hole. Y/n thought about setting booby traps when they were gone, she would not be caught by surprise again.

“Tie it under your arms,” Y/n says toward the entrance of the hole. She could see the rope moving as he tied himself up. “We’ll pull you up, just try to help a little, okay.”

“Okay.”

Y/n looked at Mina, waiting for her to come help, but Mina just looked back at her expectantly.

Y/n frowned, “I’m not pulling him up alone.”

Mina laughed slightly and it felt weird to Y/n. She couldn’t remember the last time she heard someone laugh. She gets up and walks toward Y/n. Neither of them trusted each other. She eyeballed Y/n as much as Y/n did to her. They both take the rope into their hands and wrap it around their palm.

“Ready?”

Mina nods, just as he calls up from the hole. “Ready.”

“One, two, three.”

They dug their feet into the dirt and pulled hard. Y/n could see Mina’s neck straining against the pull. It’s the hardest thing Y/n has ever done and she grows frightened of just how big he was. He weighed a ton.

Y/n watched as a huge hand reached up out of the hole and clawed at the dirt. Mina dropped the rope and ran to it. Another huge hand popped up and dug into the dirt. Mina reached down and pulled on his arms and Y/n tried to not gasp as a massive man crawled out og the hole. It was easy to tell that he was thinner than he should be. His frame towered over Mina.

He smiled at Y/n, “Thank. I never thought I would get out of there. I honestly didn’t think you would help us”

Y/n’s heart does something it’s never done before. His dark red shaggy hair hung around his forehead at eye level. His red eyes sparkled, even in the faint moonlight. His smile was devastating, with chiseled features and a strong jawline. For the faintest of seconds Y/n imagined the feel of his lips against her’s.

“Uhm...hello?”

Y/n shook her head, and saw the smile across his lips, “What?”

He laughs. They laugh a lot.

“My name is Kirishima, but you can call me Kiri. And this is my friend Mina,” He stood on one leg and rested his arm over Mina’s shoulder, supporting his hurt leg in the air.

“You’ll need that set.” Y/n said, pointing to his hanging leg.

He smiled again and Y/n felt like something inside of her was being lit. “You can do that?”

Y/n nodded her answer and tried to calm down the disturbing feelings she was now riddled with. She pointed to the cabin, “Let’s go.” and picked up her rifle.

“What’s your name?” He asked. Y/n liked his voice.

She walked over to him and tried not to stare, “I’ll help you, I think I’m stronger than her.” Y/n didn’t trust herself around him, but the fastr she helped them the faster they could leave.

His warmth crashed onto Y/n as he clutched her shoulder. Y/n never really wondered if she was short, but he made her feel tiny. She could smell him all around her. His smell made her insides hurt. Y/n looked at Hades, who walked up to Mina and nuzzled her, encouraging her to start walking.

“Traitor.” Y/n whispered.

Kirishima laughed again, “She’s really good with animals. It’s the only fucking reason we are still alive.” Y/n didn’t understand what he meant by that. Was she going to eat her wolf? To Y/n she didn’t look like the kind of kid who hugged and pet her food before eating it. She wasn’t even sure there were kids who do that.

They walked the short bit back to Y/n’s cabin in silence. He tried talking but Y/n just listened, not to him but everything around them. This wasn’t how she wanted to do and had no clue about how much noise they’ve made thus far. He didn’t seem to have a clue how to be quiet. Mina was the opposite. She listened like Y/n does. Y/n started to feel considerably better when she was able to smell the fire from her cabin and could see the front door.

“How’d you find this place? He asked as Y/n opened the door.

She put her finger to her lips and crept in with her rifle raised. She never locked the door. Another rule she’s broken. After clearing the two rooms and the bathroom she turned on the small lantern, creating a tiny orange glow.

Kirishima hopped to the couch and sat down and grimaced in pain. Y/n felt as if her house was exposed. No one has been here before.

“Kiri you’re going to be okay, right?” Mina knelt in front of him and then looked back at Y/n. Y/n locked the door and closed the curtains completely. She felt vulnerable and Kiri’s eyes watching her made her feel worse.

She needed them gone.

“He’ll be fine, just let me take a look.” Y/n brought the lantern and sat on the floor beside her, “Go sit by the fire and warm up. There’s a stew on top. Get a bowl and eat.” Mina didn’t have to wait to be asked twice.

Y/n looked up at him. He laid his head back on the couch and looked like he would fall asleep any second. She smirked, knowing that he would be wide awake the moment she touched the break.

“You can’t scream okay?”

He lifted his head and smiled bitterly, “I screamed like a little girl when i fell in that damn hole.”

Y/n took a deep breath and put her fingers to his button on his jeans to undo them. Her fingers trembled. She hadn’t touched anyone in ten years. It’s only been her and Hades. He’s all she’s touched.

He grinned, “Don’t I get anything to eat before you try to take my pants off?”

Y/n glared at him, “No. You’ll throw up and we don’t waste food here.” She didn’t appreciate the awkward joke.

He laughed weakly and gripped the couch with his massive hands. Y/n unzipped the pants and started to gently pull them down.

“I would probably be enjoying this if it weren’t for the unbearable pain. I need to get injured more often.” His stomach flexed which revealed muscles like Y/n has never seen before. His hip bones stuck out a little too much, but otherwise his body was strong and amazing. He looked like the men on the cover of romance magazines.

Y/n started to slide the jeans down his legs just below his grey underwear. She tried to notice his grey underwear or what was beneath them. When she tried to pull the pants down his legs they got caught on his thigh. Y/n grimaced as she heard him cry out.

Y/n had seen disgusting things in her life and as she felt around his thigh for the break she prepared herself for the worse. Fortunately, there wasn’t a break, but instead a large piece of wood had pierced his thigh. Y/n didn’t think that it had hit the artery in his leg. His blood loss was nowhere what it could be if it had been pierced. Y/n wondered about removing the stick and what damage that would cause. Because Y/n did not actually know where the artery was, she just knew that it existed.

“Your leg isn’t broken.”

He looked down at Y/n, “What? I felt the bone sticking out.”

“It’s a stick not bone. A stick must have stabbied into you. I need some things. I’m going to have to cut the pants from your body though.”

Mina speaks through mouthfuls, “I can sew them.”

“Don’t watch this Kiri. Just lie back and give me a minute to grab everything I need.”

He nodded and laid his head back. Y/n walked to her bathroom and sat on the earth-friendly toilet. Y/n sat and cried in the dark. She looked at her filthy hands. Even in the dark she could see the dirt. She could cause an infection and he would die from that. She could pull the stick out and rupture his artery and he could die from that. She wished that she had read more of the books that she has.

Y/n didn’t know what her options were, but the thought of Kirishima dying hurt her more than any possible loss she could face, beyond Hades. She thinked about her family and the years of life experience that had brought her to this moment.

She lit the candle in the bathroom and stood up to look at her reflection in the mirror. She was a ghostly girl in the muted light of the candle. Her mother’s bracelet and necklace glisten in the dark light. She lightly touched the metal and wished she was here. Not just her, any adult. She didn’t want to do what she was about to do. She grabbed her medical kit and took a deep breath, walking into the kitchen and pouring a pot of water.

“Boil this now.”

Mina hoppedup and grabbed it, stoked the fire and placed the pot on it. Y/n was glad that she didn’t have to tell her how to do it. Mina was capable. Y/n liked her for a moment, before closing her heart and turning away from her. They still have to leave when this was all over.

Y/n grabbed the whiskey from the cupboard and cracked the bottle, she’s never opened it. She poured some on her hands and hisses at the small sting. She scrubbed her hands and put more on, then dried her hands with a clean.

She drank a swig of the whiskey and carried it to her couch. Her throat was burning. She grabbed a thick blanket and put it under his leg and felt a small sense of pity when he groaned slightly. He was falling asleep. Y/n took the scissors and forced her hands to become steady and started to cut the fabric. She tried to cut along the seam to make it easier for Mina to sew it back. After pulling the pants off she threw them to Mina.

“The sewing kit is in the bathroom.” Y/n said before turning back to look at the stick in his upper thigh. Y/n realizes that this could be a real problem, the stick had broken off and gone in deep. She grimaced as she touched the opening of the cut. Y/n walked to her tool bag and grabbed a wrench and poured whiskey over it and her hands. She took another swig and there was fire in her stomach now.

Mina returned with the sewing kit and looked at his leg.

“At least the stick went into the side.”

Y/n nodded and passed her the whiskey,” He’s going to scream when I do this. You need to put a pillow over his face and hold him down. I’ll need that boiled water the minute it’s ready.”

She took a swig of the whiskey and nodded, “Okay.”

Y/n dropped to her knees and placed the old wrench around the nub of the stick. She tightened it so the bark made a very slight crunching noise. Y/n looked at the blanket she had ready and took a deep breath. Mina goes around to the back of the couch holding a pillow and wrapped her arms around her brother.

Y/n tried not to think about what she was about to do.

“One, two, three.” She pulled the stick hard and fast, ripping it from his leg. He jerked as hard as he could and kicked her in the face with his other foot. In mere seconds Y/n is on her back on the floor. He screams but his friend and the pillow muffle it. Y/n saw stars for a moment but found her way back over to him. She picked up the whiskey and poured it over the wound. He started to scream again, ripping the pillow off his face and shoving his friend off of him.

“FUCK! FUCK! WARN ME NEXT TIME!” He looked towards Y/n as if he could rip her head off and for a second he scared her. But Y/n just nods.

“I’m going to do it again.”

A tear slips from his left eye but he nods, his jaw trembling slightly from the pain. Y/n looked towards the wound as the blood rushed out. The flow was lazy, meaning it wasn’t an artery. Y/n sighed in relief, knowing that at least that wouldn’t kill him.

Y/n poured more alcohol and mopped up the blood and liquor and then pushed the towel against the wound and waited for his body’s natural clotting to at least make an attempt. As she looked down at the wound she saw blood drip down onto her hand. She touched her fingers to her face and found out that her nose was bleeding. She grabbed the other towel beside her and pushed it against her face. Hades nudged against her to check if she was okay. Y/n rubbed her elbow against his fur in an attempt to soothe him.

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tumblezwei · 4 years

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Why Kyoko Mogami is the GOAT

And why y’all are SLEEPING ON HER

Spoilers for Skip Beat, but honestly idk how much of the story I’m gonna get into for this since I’m flying by the seat of my pants. Still, read at your own risk.

Also this is LONG lmao

Kyoko Mogami is a 16 year old middle school drop-out that works two jobs day and night in order to pay rent for the Tokyo apartment that she lives in all by herself 6 days out of the week. Going into the first chapter, there are three things immediately clear about her.

1. She’s cheerful, kind, and also kind of batshit insane. From the first moment we meet her, her personality is throwing itself at our faces and refusing to calm down. (apologies for the bad quality images, I work with what I have)

2. She loves Sho Fuwa, her childhood friend and rising rock-star that asked Kyoko to come with him to Tokyo after middle school graduation to support his career

3. Nothing matters to her as long as Sho is happy. Sure, she laments that her love for girly dresses, cosmetics, and fairy tale princesses will never amount to anything since all of her money is going toward paying the rent on her and Sho’s apartment, but that’s fine. As long as her precious Sho is happy, so is she.

And, as you’d expect, things go to shit pretty quickly afterwards. During one her off days from her night job, Kyoko decides to visit Sho at his recording studio with dinner. After sneaking in past the hoards of squealing teenage girls waiting outside to catch a glimpse of him, she overhears him talking to his manager.

“I’m the heir to a prominent Japanese inn, do you think I’ve ever cooked or cleaned all by myself?” She hears.

“That’s awful,” the manager replies, “you make it sound as if you brought her just to be your maid.”

“She’s basically been my maid since I was a kid, or else I wouldn’t have brought her along with me. It’s not like I forced her, I asked her a question and gave her the choice. It’s only natural that she’d work her butt off to support me.”

And he just keeps going. Once he’s made enough to live independently, he’ll send her back. How dare his parents try to set him up with a plain-looking girl like her. She doesn’t even wear make-up!

As images of flash in Kyoko’s mind of standing in front of make-up stores with no money to buy anything, she takes Sho’s words just as well as one might expect. By unleashing the box of tucked away emotions she’s held in her chest and swearing to take revenge on Sho for using her and throwing her away like this.

. I failed to mention this at the start, but the beginning of the chapter introduces us to the most important piece of symbolism in Kyoko’s character development: Pandora’s box.

For Kyoko’s entire life, she’s held this box inside herself. In myth, once this box was opened, all of the evil of the world is unleashed, never to be put back inside. So for Kyoko, the metaphor is quite apt. Hearing Sho’s words unlocks the box and unleashes a kind of anger that not even Kyoko knew she was capable of, a kind of determination and vengeance that has her dyeing her hair and staking outside of a talent manager’s house for days on end to whittle down his willpower and give her a chance to audition at Sho’s rival talent agency, LME. Every time she hears his name, or sees his picture, she’s filled with myopic sense of rage that no one can calm her down from.

Her sole mission in life is to get revenge on Sho Fuwa, a sentiment that finds her at odds with LME’s top actor, Ren Tsuruga, who sees her one-sided quest for vengeance as an insult to people who truly love acting. But as if Kyoko cares, she needs to get revenge!

I’m gonna drop the pseudo-narration for a bit because I actually need to skip over a fair bit of plot to get to what I think makes Kyoko incredibly compelling, outside of being the funniest female character in existence. We’re going to jump forward in time to Kyoko’s first acting gig. Well, not so much an gig as much as it is a competition. She’s been tasked to play the role of a dignified inn keeper that’s serving tea to the main male character. After having broken her ankle and been challenged by the real lead actress, this is her first shot to prove she has the talent to make it in the acting industry. So in order to immerse herself in the role, she utilizes her experience of being trained by Sho’s mother to take care of the inn that his family owned. It’s here that we finally understand that Kyoko giving up her life back home for Sho wasn’t just a spur of the moment decision brought about by infatuation. It was something she’d been doing for her entire life. Everything she knows how to do, every skill she’s obtained, has been because of Sho. And this is the moment that she realizes that fact too. (the first image is from after the scene is done, wherein Kyoko cannot snap herself out of her character due to the lessons she was taught as a child, despite her sitting position making her broken ankle unbearably painful).

Even her righteous fury at being left in the dust is focused solely on Sho fucking Fuwa. Is there anything that she has than can be attributed to her own success? Does she have any skills that can’t be traced back to trying to make Sho happy? Who is Kyoko Mogami? Is she worth anything without Sho?

And I want to make this clear right now, because I know the term “shoujo” makes people hesitate. THIS is what Skip Beat is about. Kyoko’s journey to find out who she is, and with every new role she takes on and with every experience she gains, she becomes just a little closer to finding out who she is and what she wants for herself.

We watch as her love for acting slowly eclipses her thirst for revenge. A few arcs after this moment, she is contacted about a job to act in a music PV with none other than Sho himself. In the beginning, she accepts the job in order to prove to Sho that she’s climbing the ladder and catching up to him, but her performance suffers whenever she thinks about her revenge. And what saves her isn’t even putting aside her revenge, but prioritizing her own feelings above it. She wants to act! She wants to put on a good performance! So she needs to put aside those feelings of anger and draw from her past experiences to create a character that leaves Sho in the dust.

I’m gonna bet y’all are wondering about the romance, though. Because this is a shoujo, and of course it has romance. But hey, guess what? That romance is equally compelling and is an integral part to Kyoko’s character too. In the first....5 or so arcs, Ren Tsuruga ‘s relationship with Kyoko crawls it’s way out of the it’s rocky beginnings, and he slowly becomes a mentor figure to Kyoko. He’s her superior in acting, and she looks to him often for support and guidance when she’s struggling to perform a role or having difficulty with her fellow actors. To Kyoko, Ren is the goal, his level of acting is what she aspires to be, so she can stand on equal footing with him. Before there’s even a whiff of romance between them, there develops a solid bond of trust and support. And once the romance starts. Hoo boy.

To fully understand why it’s taken 12 years irl for a confession scene to finally take place, we need to bring back the metaphor of Pandora’s box. Because not everything escaped Pandora’s box when it was opened. Pandora was able to shut the box just in time for one thing to stay locked inside: hope. In the myth, this is a good thing, while negative and vile emotions run free, hope still exists within people to become better. But for Kyoko, the box isn’t a safe place, it’s a repressed place. She spent her entire life locking away the negative emotions she felt, placing a smile on her face and hoping for Sho’s happiness. And when those emotions are set lose, she locks the box back up, sealing something else inside. Her hope, her confidence in anything having to do with love.

It’s not just that Kyoko isn’t in love anymore, she feels as if she can’t be in love anymore, that she’s entirely incapable of it. The idea of falling in love with someone else terrifies her. What if she goes back to the way she was before? An empty shell that exists for other people and not herself. The box has been sealed tightly again, and by God this time she’s not going to let anything open it. And like, I don’t want to spoil much in this, as contradictory as that sounds. Because the scene where she realizes she loves Ren? One of the best fucking scenes in any romance manga ever.

And. God. I haven’t even touched on her mom. Kyoko’s desire for love, that became so warped under Sho and so desolate after his betrayal, can all stem back to Saena Mogami. A woman who, no matter what Kyoko did, rejected any affection that her child tried to give, and gave none in return. “Even a mother can hate her own child.” We get bits and pieces of what Kyoko’s mother was like, and the environment that a very young Kyoko was raised in before her mother left her in the care of Sho’s parents. And eventually we realize that Kyoko isn’t afraid of her love being rejected twice, but a third time.

Like, y’all, I’m not good at these kind of essays. I keep wanting to go off on tangents, nothing is ever focused, I spend to much time just reading the manga instead of writing this fucking post. But please believe me when I tell you that Kyoko Mogamis character development is like none other. She’s truly at the top of her genre and it’s an actual crime that she’s so underrated.

I HAVEN’T EVEN TALKED ABOUT KANAE, THE WEISS TO HER RUBY, THE TSUNDERE TO HER GENKI

Before Kyoko gets even a single arc with Ren, she gets two with Kanae. The first with Kanae as a central figure, and the second where Kanae is her support. She’s the one that gives Kyoko the eureka moment she needs to pull of her performance with Sho. They are one of the most developed and deep friendships in shoujo that I’ve ever seen AND Y’ALL NEED TO STOP SLEEPING ON IT. LOOK AT THESE TWO

And don’t take this poorly assembled post at face value, I’ve left out a lot of shit. Starting with how fucking funny this manga is. Kyoko’s special talent for her LME audition is peeling vegetables, there’s a running gag where Ren asks for her advice while she’s in a giant chicken costume, unaware that it’s her, the president of LME is an eccentric millionaire that likes to dress up in different themed costumes every day and loves throwing extravagant parties, Kyoko’s hobby is making voodoo dolls and talks to a miniature Ren doll whenever she needs encouragement or advice.

And it’s all packaged alongside some of the most compelling character development I’ve ever seen (for both Kyoko and Ren), and some absolutely heartbreaking drama. You will never know true pain until “I don’t have a daughter.”

Read this, ya’ll. You won’t regret it.

#I'm not going back over this because I KNOW it's not coherent but FUCK IT #skip beat #rambling #long post

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years

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The Inherent Risks of Loving a Wild Man

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Summary: Word about Bill Guarnere and the NCOs going to Sink reaches you, but by the time you hear it’s been so muddled with misinformation that you think he’s dead. After hearing another person saying that he’s alive, you are let with the awful task of waiting....

Warnings: no-no words (it’s hbo/war, kids. people gonna curse), allusions to sexy times, some vv lite sexy times™, angst (kinda)

William Guarnere was a dead man- that much you knew for sure.

The only thing you weren't sure of?

If he was going to die by Sink’s hand or yours.

Sink, you thought ruefully to yourself, throat feeling tight again as you had an intrusive mental image of Bill crumpling to the ground after the crack of a gun. Sink has no other choice, his hands are tied.

For probably the fiftieth time that evening, you walked over to the window in the in-law unit attached to the side of the house you’d been assigned to in England. You knew better than to expect any of the NCOs to go out of their way to tell you, not with the strict curfew Sobel has imposed on them after the idiot himself led Easy astray during a training exercise.

The grandfather of the family you were staying with had told you about it in passing after coming across Dick and some others after his morning bike ride. You’d tried not to openly criticize Sobel, but when the old man mentioned a flustered soldier yelling “high-oh silver!” as he arrived late (and from the wrong direction), you hadn’t been able to hide your scowl.

“He’s going to get us killed.” Bill had grumbled to you a few days ago, after telling you about yet another catastrophic day of training. “I swear to god, Y/n, that cow-eyed bastard couldn’t find his own dick in a well-lit room—”

“I get the picture, Bill. Please don’t ever make me think about Sobel’s dick ever again.”

He’d chuckled at that, pinning your arms above your head and looking down at you with a smug grin.

“I’m awful sorry about that, Miss Y/L/N. Let me make it up to you?”

He’d kissed the air from your lungs then, and any thoughts of Sobel or death were put on the back burner….

It just seemed horribly ironic now- Sobel really was going to be the thing that gets him killed, it just hadn’t happened as straightforwardly as youd anticipated.

Headlights suddenly blind you, and your blood runs cold as you recognize it as one of the airborne’s Jeeps.

It must be Nixon, he’d tell me. Whether i want to actually hear it or not.

Your throat feels tight as the truck pulls to a stop by the front garden, and you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until the figure that exits the car forgoes the direct footpath through the family’s garden, instead walking straight towards your window.

There’s only one person who does that, did that….

Throwing your window open, you stand on the desk beneath it and crawl out gracelessly, your limbs feeling disconnected from your body as you try to squash the painful hope trying to bubble in your chest.

The man stalks up to you, the light coming from your room illuminating the handsome, sharp, and perfectly alive face of Bill fucking Guarnere.

“Cara mia.”

He’s raised his hands to hold your face in his typical greeting kiss, that stupid grin bright on his face- as if he hadn’t been dead in your mind up until a few milliseconds ago.

So, it was to be you to kill him. Okay then.

You clapped him across the face, palm stinging as you watched his head snap to the side. In the low light, you could see a pink handprint on his cheek and feel a little bad for hitting him so hard.

Then you remember why you’d hit him in the first place, and you get over it.

“What in the actual fuck were you thinking, pulling that shit?”

Your voice is as sharp as your slap, slightly wavering as tears began to cloud your eyes.

“How could you even think about doing something so stupid, and not even bother to let me know…..and you don’t even say ‘goodbye’?”

He said nothing, his face still turned away and his jaw working as you tried your very best not to yell and wake everyone in the main house up.

You then surprise the both of you by bursting into tears, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing so hard you forget to breathe.

His arms are quick to wrap around you, pulling you impossibly close and nosing affectionately by your ear.

“Hey, don’t cry….oh darlin’, please don’t cry,” the rumble of his voice only makes you cry harder, the sound so comforting and warm and essential, and for four horrible hours you’d tried to wrap your head around the fact that the man you loved was dead and you’d never get to hear that perfect voice again.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to make you cry—”

You pull away, glaring at him tearfully. “No? What part of you either leaving the airborne- and not telling me, or getting executed for mutiny- without bothering to say anything…..What part of either of those things breaking my fucking heart are you not getting, you stupid fucking idiot?”

You shake your head, only stopping when he unwraps his arms from around you and takes your face in his hands (as he’d intended to before you smacked him).

“Did you even think about what that would do to your mother? Or your father, for that matter—?”

“I’m sorry.” he interrupts you, and when you frown at him he sighs anxiously. “Fuck, baby….”

Seeing that you weren’t going to easily forgive him, Bill wipes at your tears with his thumbs and looks at you sadly.

After standing in tense silence for a few moments, Bill pulls you into another embrace- hands hot through the material of your thermal pajama top.

“I love you.” he mumbles.

A mournful scoff escapes your throat, and he squeezes you tighter.

“Hey, listen to me...” he turns his head so he can look you in the face. Your eyes showed your doubt, and you watched as he seemed to understand just how deeply he’d hurt you.

It was uncommon for either of you to voice your affection for the other and not get an immediate echoing response, the both of you having abandoned any sort of stoicism for the other during your time in one of the Carolinas.

His dark eyes are swirling with deep regret, and you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen him remorseful before. It was heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time, seeing one of the cockiest men you knew looking at you as if you held the key to his happiness. His heart.

“I. Love. You.”

You close your eyes as he repeats the sentiment, unable to bear his intense look without wanting to start crying all over again.

“I didn’t think….well,” he cuts himself off, and when you peek at him you see that he’s nodding to himself. “Nah, that’s it. I just didn’t think. I just did because—”

“I’m not mad that you refused to follow an absolute moron into war...” you interrupt, watching as his brows furrow in confusion. You bring a hand up to wipe at the sticky tears drying on your cheeks. “Bill….losing you will kill me.”

He’s shaking his head now, whispering your name harshly. “Don’t say that—”

“I have to say it because it’s the truth. And if you love me a fraction as much as i love you, you probably already know that.”

With a tired sigh you bring your hands up to rub at his chilled ears, the cold air making your breath fog between you as you speak.

“But, I also know the reality of what’s about to happen- and I’ve made my peace with it as much as I can—” “Cara mia—”

“—because i know that i’ll at least get to see you once before we drop, before all the shit hits the fan, and I’ll get to tell you I love you..... and that if by some miracle we do both make it I’m going to marry you and then we’ll never have to do anything like this again.

“But you almost took that from me.” You swallow your sadness and rest your forehead against his. “Jesus, William….”

He kisses you sweetly, and you know he can also taste the salt of your tears as he does so. Bill’s hands are running up and down your back, following paths and trails he’d first mapped with his fingers the morning after the two of you had slept together the first time.

“Say it back,” he whispers between kisses. “I need to hear you say it back—”

“I love you.”

His hands suddenly stop, and he pulls back to look you over with a furrowed brow.

“Oh shit, darlin’, you’re barely wearing anything!” With commanding hands he turns you around and starts to march you back to your window. You had forgotten that you were just in your pajamas, feet still bare on the chilled ground.

When you climbed in he followed with silent movements, barely getting the window latched before he shirks off his outer few layers and is embracing you again, torso warm and inviting when you held him again.

“I’m gonna be pissed if you get sick, you know that right?”

He’s teasing you again, but his voice still is soft from emotion.

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, Bill. I know….”

He turns his head before your next kiss lands on his cheek, resuming the sweet kiss from outside.

When you nibble at his bottom lip he groans softly, one hand knotting in your hair while the other one slid down to your backside and kneaded the supple flesh of your bottom with a hungry grip.

“You want some more, baby?” Bill’s voice has taken on a rough quality that never failed to make your heart beat faster and your stomach to curl sweetly. “Want me to show you how sorry I am?”

You shut him up with a kiss, knowing from experience that once Bill got talking like this there was only so much you could take before becoming a flustered and needy mess.

Bill takes the hint, only breaking away from you to quickly pull your shirt over your head before ducking right back in. the material of his button up is rough against your bare nipples, the peaks harder than stone ever since you’d first stepped out into the chilly night air.

His hands drew goosebumps across your back as he brushed his fingers up and down your spine, worshipping you in such a way that made all your teenage years of self-consciousness seem preposterous in hindsight.

“Fucking goddess,” he’d proclaimed once between hot open mouth kisses across your collarbones after you’d both come down from your third orgasm of the night. “If I had my way, you’d never have to cover a single goddamned inch of your body from me. Could fucking taste you whenever i wanted…”

When your hand cups him through his pants he hisses, laughing headily into your mouth.

“I’m still mad at you.” you say, pulling back so you can watch his face scrunch up attractively as you massage his stiffness.

He nods, eyes closed as his jaw goes slack. You can’t help but feel somewhat smug at being able to elicit such a reaction from such a fiery man.

“Thought I was ‘sposed ta be taking care of you, darlin’....”

You hum, walking him backwards so the back of his knees hit your mattress.

“Maybe I want you to suffer a little bit,” you offer as you press on his shoulder to make him sit down before you. He looks up at you, eyes heavy and breathing rough.

There’s now a clear handprint on his cheek from where you slapped him, and some flicker of sadness must show in your eyes because one of the hands that had begun tugging your pajama bottoms down your legs comes up to take the hand you’d hit him with and he kisses at your fingers sweetly.

“I’m okay with some sufferin’, ‘s long as you’re the one dealin’ it.”

You fist his hair and duck down to kiss him urgently, letting him help you step from the clothes around your ankles so you can straddle his lap.

“C’mon, baby….I can take it.”

You respond by craning his head back and placing biting kisses down his throat.

Because as wild as Bill Guarnere was, you were still the one who’d tamed him.

And he wouldn’t just do that for anyone.

You were going to be sure he remembered that.

Even if it took all night.

(Hey kids, wrote this while trying to get through writers block a little bittle ago, and there is a part 2, so holler at ya girl if yall’er (: interested ok thank your bye)

(ALSO! I saw someone else describe Sobel as ‘cow-eyed’ in a different fic. I’m trying to find it so I can give the author credit (bc it’s a perfect description!), but if any of you guys know which one i’m talking about just dm me and i’ll link it!)

(ALSO PART TWO: let me know if you’re interested in being tagged on any future garbage I write!)

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #bill guarnere x reader #it's vv bad but I'll just add it to the pile of already burning garbage pile that is my bibliography

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talas-starlight · 4 years

Text

Scarred Spirits - Zuko x fem! reader (pt.5)

SUMMARY: y/n wakes up in an unfamiliar place and tries to find her way back to her mission (i suck at summaries LOL)

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: swearing, fighting? kinda?

OTHER PARTS: pt1 / pt2 / pt3 / pt4 / pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

A/N: anddddd we’re back!!! hehe thank you to everyone who has been so so patient with me i am so greatful && hopefully youre just as excited as i am for this series heheh

Bricks. You felt as though you were just hit with a tonne of bricks. The idea of even opening your eyes to the harsh sunlight, which you could feel through your eyelids felt like the worst idea in the world. Your dry throat didn’t help at all either. Maybe if I just lay wherever the fuck I am, I’ll magically gain the energy to move again. Or better yet, maybe the ground will swallow me whole, and I can forget about this mission altogether.

Abruptly interrupting your painful stillness on the ground, there was a small kick into your left side. The sudden shock immediately sent your brain swirling into all the ways you could eliminate whoever disturbed your peace.

“Hey… I think she’s dead.”

Ah, the wonderful sound of an annoying, teenage boy. They’ll be easy to take out.

A second female voice emerged. “She's not dead Sokka! She's literally breathing!" Sokka? As in Hakodas son? Oh Spirits, you never fail to amaze me with how you choose to dictate my life. Hmmm, then that means the girl is Katara. Yay.

"Yeah?! Then why the hell hasn't she even moved a single inch since we found her!"

"Well, maybe she's protesting against your annoying poking!" Spirits they're annoying and loud.

A third voice attempted to intervene, "Guys…. Stop, she's fine. Trust me." Hmm, that's considerably younger. 10 years old perhaps? Or a bit older? 12 maybe? Male?

"Oh yeah? How can you be so sure Aang."

"Well Katara is right, she is breathing for one. But…. There's something else about her, I can feel it."

"What? Like an avatar thingy?"

"Yeah."

Wait the Avatar? Wasn't he on that dragon from when I was-

"Hmmm right, well what are we going to do with her?" At that statement, the annoying boy who seemed to be so confident that you were dead, kicked you again. Sick of his irritable presence, with as much strength you could muster, you took your right hand quickly snatching his ankle, and yanking it towards you, causing him to lose balance and ultimately backwards. Letting out a high-pitched yelp as he thudded onto the hard ground, you quickly rose to your knees. Taking the hand gripped around his ankle to tug him closer to you, you moved between his legs until you were able to straddle his waist, placing all of your weight on top of him. Finally, you grabbed both his arms, holding them above his head, completely hindering him from moving.

"If you kick me one more time, or even trying anything like that again, I WILL chop your legs off. Got it?"

Staring at you with pure horror in his eyes, he visibly gulped, nodding. "Yes! Yes! Hear it loud and clear. Totally got it! Just call me Sokka, the guy with perfect understanding."

Moving your right hand from his wrists, you firmly gripped his jaw, forcing him to keep eye contact with you. Taking in his scared features, you smirked even though he couldn't see it. "You sure about that, water boy?"

"YES! YES!", frantically nodding, you could tell that if you kept pressing on, he'd probably burst into tears soon. Bringing his voice down to a pathetic whimper, he let out, "please don't hurt me."

Finally lifting yourself off him, you let out a dry laugh, satisfied with his compliance. "Uh-huh. Right."

Turning your head to the people that belonged to the other two voices, you took in their stunned and weakly defensive stances. Chest heaving at your sudden physical movements, you nodded, acknowledging them. "Hey, Avatar. Katara. So, where am I?"

After a few moments of silence, the Avatar spoke up first. “You’re just outside of Omashu.”

Katara elbowed Aang, instantly alarmed at his calm nature towards you. “Aang! You can’t just say that. We don’t know who this person is or how she even knows my name! She could be with the Fire Nation for all we know!”

“Katara it’s alright! Calm down.”

“Calm down?! She just attacked Sokka! I mean, rightfully so- but it’s a little suspicious. We don’t know who she is or her intentions.”

Sighing, you looked around, taking in your surroundings. It seemed that rocky mountains surrounded you with a small group of tents in the distance. Interesting… why are they all Earth Kingdom people, when Omashu is so close by?

Shifting your attention back towards the three, you decided against telling them who you were. “It doesn’t matter how I know any of your names. What matters is that I need to get back to my original mission.”

Sokka scoffed, moving to stand beside his sister. “Your mission? Let me guess; you’re here to kill Aang too.”

Raising an eyebrow, his eyes immediately widened in fear. “Trust me, water boy, if I wanted him dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. I’m here on… other confidential business.” Met with silence from all three of them you moved on, “so let me guess, you found Omashu invaded by the Fire Nation, and you three were the ones that helped that tiny camp of people over there escape from their rule. Interesting choice considering there are bigger things you should be worrying about. Yet, why are all of you still here? Surely the Avatar and his friends don’t need to train them in how to look after themselves.”

“We’re going back into Omashu. To make a trade for King Bumi and to give the governor his son back.” Why does he keep willingly give me information? Now that’s interesting. I can barely feel any fire within him either, it’s almost as if it's not there at all…

“Okay. I’ll accompany you all into Omashu, and once we arrive within the city, we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Sure!”

“NO!”

Bursting out into a fit of laughter, you shook your head at the water tribe siblings. “Naw, it’s sweet how you think you all have a choice in this. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to any of you, I’m just hitching a ride and you’ll never have to see me again. Regardless, Aang said yes, and considering he’s the Avatar and all, I think his choice overrules yours.”

Katara didn’t seem to like your suggestion that her and Sokka’s opinion didn’t matter. “No, it doesn’t work like that! We’re a family, and we make these decisions together! You can’t just wake up after who knows how long you were laying there for, and expect us to trust you immediately! For one, you attacked Sokka a little too easily without any bending, and you literally said that you were on a mission! If I’m honest, you sound like trouble, especially since we don’t even know your name! Or what you even look like!”

“Just as I said before, it doesn’t matter. It’s sweet you all care enough about each other’s safety, but I’m not here to cause any of you ‘trouble’. Get me inside Omashu, and we’ll never have to speak or interact ever again. If it means so much to you, I’ll let water boy tie me up, and watch me the entire journey there as reparations for my small attack against him. How does that sound?”

Aang more than satisfied with your offer let out a quick, “Yes!”.

Grumbling under her breath Katara shook her head, clearly understanding that this was as good as it was going it get. “Fine. But he ties you up now. If I see you even move an inch out of line, don’t think I’ll go easy on you. I am a waterbender after all.”

As if you being a waterbender would have stopped me. Holding your arms out and casting your attention towards the ground, you were ready for Sokka to bind your wrists together with some cloth, he tore off his clothing. Unknown to you, he seemed to notice that despite how tough you were, you were weak. All of the sudden movements and the argument with his sister clearly drained you physically.

“Hey… I don’t really like you since you threatened to kill me, but are you sure you’re ready to be travelling so soon? You’re breathing really heavily. You need some water and food.” Gently wrapping your wrists together, he tried and failed to make eye contact with you.

At the mention of water, you throat physically constricted in pain. “Nah, I’ll be alright. Just need to get to Omashu.”

“Doubt it. Let’s get you on Appa and I’ll nag Katara for something.”

Silently following him to the Sky Bison, you were grateful that your mask covered the wide smile that broke out onto your face. It’s beautiful.

Finally, parting ways with them, you let out a breath of relief. That was the most silent journey I have ever been on and I travel by myself… Spirits, I hope I never have to run into them again. I think I’m going to lose my mind if I ever do. What was Hakoda thinking?! I’d be an awful big sister to them, they already hate me! It didn’t help how much they kept bickering either. Argh, what a mess. Aang kept looking at me funny the entire time too! What was up with that? Do his Avatar powers allow him to see into my soul or something? Spirits, he’d probably wants to unleash his Avatar state on me for all of the lives I’ve taken. Yikes.

Before setting off to find Azula, you needed to take precautions to blend into the small kingdom. Stealing some clothes, you found you chose to duplicate you last disguise with the only main difference being that it was in green cloth instead of pink.

After securing your final blade underneath your robes, you knew there was no more time to waste and you needed to find Azula quick. You weren’t sure how much she has progressed in her mission to find Iroh and Zuko and the guilt of not helping them when they ran off the Fire Nation ship was already nagging you like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

This city is too big to wander around aimlessly.

Closing your eyes and letting out a deep breath, you chose to look for her the quickest way you knew how. By sensing her fire.

Come on y/n; you can do it. Unsure of how far your abilities would work, you grew worried that she may be too far away for you to even feel her.

After a few minutes, you started to feel irritated. Of course, you could sense fire, you felt so much of it. The city was crawling with Fire Nation after all, but it wasn’t hers. You emitted a few more deep breaths, trying to clear your head.

Suddenly a deep, familiar voice entered your mind. Inner peace. You need to find your inner peace y/n. That’s why you keep losing control; you need to find it.

Is this that dragon again? As if you didn’t have a random voice inside your head, you were met with silence.

Look you can’t just randomly enter my mind you know, and who in Spirits name transports me to some random mountainside?! I don’t know who you are, but I’ve been doing fine all of these years on my own. So kindly, get out of my head.

Letting out a small scream into your hands as the voice never came back, you closed your eyes again.

Stupid voice.

Stupid inner peace.

Breathing in and out, you wracked your brain for something that made you feel at peace. Come on, you can do it. Then after a few moments, it hit you. Not your inner peace, no. You’d have to find that another day. What did hit you was Azula’s fire, you felt it.

Immediately following the tugging feeling, you ran as fast as you could until you came to a tall piece of scaffolding. Even though you were so far below, you could still hear the fight that was occurring many levels up. Can’t she keep herself out of a battle for at least a day?! I bet it’s not even Zuko up there. Scowling, knowing that you can’t ignore her completely, you climbed up until you reached the fight but still remaining hidden.

By the time you reached the platform, you felt that Azula had already moved from this part of the fight. That didn’t mean that there weren’t pressing matters right in front of you, though.

“How are you going to fight without your bending?” A Fire Nation girl before you brought out her blades ready to attack Katara. Holding back a verbal groan, you knew you were going to have to help her.

Quickly jumping in, you deflect Mai’s knife with your arm while simultaneously catching a boomerang that you spotted in the corner of your eye. As the flying bison approached your quickly dodged its tail as it sent the two fire nation girls flying back. Seeing a distraction between all parties, you threw the boomerang back to Sokka while running for the scaffolding, making your way into the shadows. So much for never having to see them again.

When you ran away from the scene, you knew your disguise was too recognisable considering the two girls saw you when you intervened. This left you to painstakingly have to find a new set of clothes, just to make babysitting Azula and her friends so much easier. Despite finally being back on track with your mission, it didn’t make it any less tedious as you followed from a distance in the shadows. “So, we’re tracking down your brother and uncle, huh?”

“It’ll be interesting seeing Zuko again, won’t it Mai?” Huh? Is that coal brains girlfriend or something?

Azula spoke up at that comment, “It’s not just Zuko and Iroh anymore. We have a third target now.” You have got to be fucking joking. I guess I better start finding my inner peace after all, you know, so I don’t blow her FUCKING BRAINS OUT!

a/n: hehe thank you so much for reading!!! what did you think?? hehe i know its been a while so im kinda rusty so pls let me know your thoughts or any feedback!! hehe i know this wasnt that juicy and kinda short but ive got a lot planned so dw hehe we’ll get there ;)

taglist: @slythergirlimagines @mangoberry43 @eridanuswave @whiskeywinter89 @kaylove12 @simplyfandomish @khaleesi-of-assassins @callums-keith @ilovespideyyy @calciumcow @blackhood5sos @nnon-it-up @lozzybowe @scarletemeterio @reclusive-chicken-nugget @simpinforsukka @chewymoustachio @tiffy119 @spearbatty @sokkassuki

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