#Gus’ face kills me in this last one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nomazee · 1 year

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pry your way in

sebastian (sdv) x gn reader

word count: 4.7k (oh my god)

content: mutual pining, ROMANTIC TENSION, aggressive pining on the reader’s part, do they kiss or do they not, social anxiety (can u TELL), embarrassing situations, comedy (maybe) (hopefully) (maybe you’ll get a little giggle out of this and swing your feet around), so much build up, the slowest burn you could possibly get in under 5k words

notes: oh HEY guys so i went crazy again and i don’t think i’ve ever written so much in one sitting. this is insane. look at what this game has done to me.

part 1 part 2 (you are here) part 3

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All you need to do is drop off these stupid eggs in Gus’s fridge. That’s it. In and out and then you can go home and pretend that you did not stare at Sebastian for almost an entire straight minute in the doorway of the saloon.

He’s too busy playing pool, you think, and from the brief (many) glances you’ve taken at them, it looks like he’s pretty close to beating Sam. Your heart goes out to the blonde. One day, for sure, he’ll be able to get more than three balls in an entire game against Sebastian.

The fridge door is open now. No one notices you except for Emily, who gives you a kind nod and a smile. You don’t know if you should be upset by the fact that no one really talks to you whenever you go to the saloon unless you talk first, or if you should be incredibly relieved. It’s leaning to the latter, because you don’t think you could handle being looked at right now especially by Sebastian because good god the jellyfish thing was so embarrassing and you really hope he’s forgotten about it because oh my god you actually almost puked all over his shoes and what is wrong with you and—

“Farmer!” Oh god. It’s a woman’s voice. It’s Abigail, and despite the fuzz in your mind you can tell by the timbre of her voice and the fact that the shout came from over by the pool table. You managed to get two eggs in the container in the fridge before being ousted. Good job. You hope Gus’ extreme ginormous 24-egg omelet is worth all of this.

If you tried really hard, you could have played it off as if you didn't hear her at all. But then she’s walking over to you and you hear her footsteps and they’re light, friendly. Unfortunately, that does nothing to stop you from freezing up and feeling every individual cell in your body go taut.

Maybe she’s going to kill you, or something, because maybe you did actually puke all over Sebastian’s sneakers nights before this and your mind just blocked it out. Oh god. Well, this town was nice while it lasted. You hope they’ll bury you in a nice spot out of courtesy.

Turning to face Abigail, you manage to give her a shaky sort of grin and wave. “Oh. Hey. I didn't know you were here.” You are such a liar. And a bad one, probably.

“Yeah! Me and Sam and Sebastian.” You nod at that. A pause, and then, “Hey, are you busy tonight? We were wondering if you wanted to join us. We’re playing pool, but— um, it’s mainly just those two playing. They’ve got a rivalry going on.”

She looks back at them and watches, amused, and you do the same for a moment. Sam is in the middle of making some big joke-y scene, throwing his head back and groaning and swatting at Sebastian while the other man just barely ducks away from his attacks. They’re laughing, and elbowing each other and you look away before either of them notice that you’re watching with the intensity of a wild deer.

“Oh, I don’t know. Thank you. I don’t want to come if not everyone wants me to join.”

“Everyone does,” Abigail tells you, and she’s really telling you. With purpose. There is something in her eyes. Something imploring and meaningful and her lips are quirking up in some pretty and teasing smile, and you’re wondering what’s so different about the way Pelican Town people are raised to make them carry so much weight in their eyes. So much weight that it makes you dizzy. And nauseous. And now maybe you’ll puke on Abigail’s shoes, instead.

“Okay.” It comes out as a whisper from your shaky mouth. She only smiles brighter at you. You register that you’re still behind Gus’s counter and there are drinks being shaken and poured just steps behind you. “Okay, I’ll be over in a second.”

Great, she tells you, and then she’s turning around and walking away with a little jump and you might throw up because why did you agree to this? You did not plan on talking to people this evening. Not at all. And you’re wishing so hard that you had just dropped these eggs off in the morning. This is the type of stuff that happens when you don't just drop eggs off in the morning. Just your luck.

You shake your head, as if maybe it’ll rattle your senses into being ready to spectate a pool game and talk with people for at least half an hour. And Sebastian. You don’t think you could handle the intensity of just sitting next to him. You might throw up again. All over the pool cues and the fuzzy cloth of the pool table. And maybe Sam’s shoes. Everyone’s shoes are getting thrown up on this week.

Eventually, you make the walk out from the counter and consider just leaving through the door and telling Abigail later on that you just felt sick and needed to go home. It wouldn’t be a lie. You are a person of half-truths, most definitely.

But you don’t, because you like Abigail and you want her to like you too. By the look of everything she’s done for you, you’re fairly certain that she does like you, or at least more-than-tolerates you, and you would like to keep it that way instead of burning down all of your Stardew Valley relationships in a slow, painful fire. (And okay, yes, maybe it’s a benefit that she’s friends with Sebastian. So what.)

You blink. You’re in front of the three of them. Abigail and Sam are smiling at you and Sebastian is giving you a look. What is it with the people in this valley and their looks?! You have yet to be able to decode any of them. This is rough. So rough. You’re falling back into the uncomfortable feeling of otherness. Of just-barely-not-fitting. Like squeezing between a desk and a wall. Every other day you are walking through just fine, and the other days you are squeezing between this town and the people and everything you have yet to learn.

You might puke. You’re not making it out of this saloon alive.

“Hey, farmer!” Sam greets you, and your chest is struck with endearment over how everyone calls you farmer. Maybe it’s just because they forgot your name, but you can’t seem to mind it at all. “Are you joining us?”

“Oh, just for a bit,” you tell him. You can’t help the smile that takes over your face, warmed and sheepish. “And then I should go. But I’m a big fan of watching you guys argue over pool. Really, it’s very captivating.”

Abigail chortles, taking pleasure in the playful sarcasm you’ve adapted to. When Sam and Sebastian both follow suit in their own little laughs, your defensive habits slip away the slightest bit. And you can’t seem to find it in you to hold onto them.

“Less of an argument and more of a…” Sebastian pauses with a teasing glance at his friend. Your heart stops for no reason other than you being stupid and in love, and it only chokes you up when he directs his stupid stupid pretty eyes right at you. “More of Sam being a sore loser. It’s an easy win on my part, really.”

A snicker escapes you, undignified in how easily you let it out and how it threatens to reverberate against the walls of the game room. You’re holding onto yourself for dear life, trying to ground yourself in some attempt to maybe keep some of your dignity before it’s worn away through the course of the evening.

But Sebastian has this prideful simper on his face and it’s like he’s happy to make you laugh. Maybe it’s the loving delusions running through your head. But you let yourself dream, just for a minute.

Stupid boy. The urge to kiss him is slowly hurtling its way through your entire system, and it’s starting with your respiratory tract judging by the way you can’t seem to catch a breath. Stupid. Boy.

“You can sit down, you know,” and he nods his head to the pair of chairs behind him. “Stay a while.” His eyes are filled with a stupid teasing glimmer and you might pull him aside just to kiss that expression right off his face.

You won’t. Obviously. Because look at what happened last time you let your inhibitions run free. (Absolutely. Nothing.)

Maybe I will, you want to say, stay a while. Maybe I’ll stay forever.

You take a seat, and Sebastian is still leaning against the table with his pool cue in hand. He is looking at you, hesitant, with his mouth slightly open like he wants to say something. Before he can, Abigail interrupts.

“Wait, let me take over for you!” She says, rushing forward to steal the cue from him. “I want to play! You guys, like, totally monopolize the table every time we’re here.” Abigail’s eyes flit to Sebastian, then to you, and she continues, “Next time, let’s just play the two of us. You and me, farmer.”

There’s another big, stupid smile stretching your face taut and you hope none of them notice your cracked, drying lips. They’re peeling open from how much you’re grinning tonight and how much you’re not moisturizing them. “Of course.”

Sebastian is left with nothing in his hands once Abigail turns to aim her cue and hit the white ball (poorly) in an attempt to keep up Sebastian’s winning streak. With her and Sam occupied, you are left with the black haired man standing aimless in front of you. Again. And his eyes are trailing you, with purpose and a goal to speak. Again.

You throw his words back at him with, “Well, sit down. Stay a while.” And he does. And your stupid mind is wondering if maybe him following you so easily means something. Stupid stupid.

“How’s, um. Your stomach,” he asks, stunted pauses littering his voice as he tries his best to look at you. You don’t know what he’s talking about, and it must show on your face because he’s clarifying, “From the ceremony last week. I haven't seen you since then so I figured you must’ve been sick.”

Sebastian is prying. Not in his words, but in the way he’s looking at you. Really, really looking, and this feels like a repeat of last week and you are reliving a million and one things that you would rather never relive again.

Your palms are suddenly cold and you’re avoiding his gaze, body stiff with guilt. You’d been avoiding him for a week and you honestly hadn’t even noticed. It was like a subconscious response to humiliating yourself in front of the pretty boy that you’ve liked for weeks now. You hope he doesn’t blame you for that, somehow.

“Right. Um, I was fine. I’m fine now, I mean. I turned out fine. Sorry for all of that,” your feet are shuffling against the ground and you drag patterns into your pants to comfort yourself. “It was kind of embarrassing. To have you walk me home and then suddenly get sick. I really am sorry for that.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” There’s a sureness in his voice. When you find the courage in your lungs to turn and look at him, you’re met with a furrowed brow and steady eyes. It’s overwhelming you with ten different feelings, many of which are yelling at you to KISS HIS STUPID FACE. “Seriously. It wasn’t embarrassing, either. Things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay, now.”

Sebastian ends it with another one of his chest-aching, brain-melting, palm-sweating smiles and he’s doing that stupid thing with the corners of his mouth. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it, and that’s what frustrates you the most. Maybe you should tell him, but he would take it the wrong way and stop doing it and you wouldn’t survive without seeing that stupid smile. As much as it makes you want to tear your hair out if you look at it for too long.

You give him a firm nod. The rest of the night is easy conversation. You have one drink. Really, you make sure of it, because you haven’t gotten intoxicated in months and you really don’t want to see what drunk-you does in Stardew Valley in front of the sweet townspeople and the stupid pretty man in front of you. Said stupid-pretty-man follows suit, only having a pale ale and indulging in shirley temples for the rest of the night. (You punch yourself for finding it endearing that he likes such a sweet drink. Urgh.)

It feels like a parallel universe of the Moonlight Jellies celebration of last week. One where you are a much less awkward person (but, really, there’s just barely a difference between now and before), and where you offer to walk him home instead of the other way around. Your stupid infatuated heart skips a stupid beat when you ask him if you can walk him back, but it quells when he gives you an easy smile and agrees. You pointedly ignore the voice in your head telling you that he sounds almost enthusiastic.

Sam and Abigail wish you goodnight, and they’re both beaming at you in a silly way that makes you follow suit. Giggles bubble in your chest and you don’t even know why. You think they must just have those kinds of personalities, and you really couldn't be more happy to seep into it.

You don’t hold Sebastian’s hand on the way back. Not at all. In fact, you don’t even feel the urge to. You totally, totally don’t look at his hand swaying between you and fight the instinct to grab it and trace your fingers across his palm lines and the dips of his knuckles and all the scars he’s collected in his youth. You. Do not. Feel that way at all.

It’s easy conversation, yet again. It’s almost impressive how, even with how easily you seem to do the most mortifying, awkward things in front of Sebastian, you still slip into moments with him where you can talk like you’ve known each other forever. God. Something about this town. You can’t tell if you want to catch the next operable bus out of here or stay here forever. You feel that way often, actually.

Before you know it, you’ve cut through the city and ended up in the mountains and in front of his house. The lights are off. It must be super late, then, if everyone’s dead asleep like that.

Crickets chirp and buzz in the air. You and Sebastian stop walking in the middle of the large dirt patch that takes up his front yard. Now, you’re looking at each other, and he’s giving you his awkward stupid gorgeous downward grin. You hope that you’re giving him something at least half as pretty, with the way you feel your lips stretch and crack again. You really need to get lip balm from Pierre’s.

“It’s so late,” you mutter, because you don’t know what else to say and your heart is melting and slipping right out of your chest and onto the soil. “I guess I should go home.”

You hope—cross-your-fingers-say-a-prayer type of hope—that he hears the hesitancy in your voice. That he realizes you don’t want to leave. That he sees the fondness in your eyes and how you’re trying to soften every defense mechanism you’ve ever learned in order to pry into him, now. And you hope. Cross your fingers and say a prayer. That he wants that, too.

He hums a thoughtful, quiet sort of hum. Sebastian doesn’t move towards the door, or bid you a goodnight, or nod along and tell you he’ll see you another day. He waits. He is looking at you and prying you open and trying to gauge your reaction. To what, you don’t know, but there’s a static feeling in your head that tells you to wait and find out.

“Right,” he says finally. His voice and his mouth curl carefully around the word, and it’s there again—the pauses, the hesitancy. You see your habits in him and you are aching with the need to find out what he means. What this all means. And you’re feeling stupid, and so you wait, too.

“I think I feel bad leaving you to walk home,” Sebastian tells you. He’s speaking slowly, but not in a degrading way. It feels more like he wants the words to float to you and sink into the pores of your skin. And they do. They do, and it’s embarrassing, because now you’re sweating and hoping (again) that it doesn’t show on your face or your hands or the twisting of your fingers. “This is really far from the farm, you know.”

“I think I would know,” you respond, teasing and lighthearted and acting like there isn’t a saturated yearning weighing down your body right now. “I can manage. I’ve been in the mines, you know. Seen all the monsters down there and everything.”

He lets out a stupid breathy laugh and shakes his head. You hate how he acts so nonchalant, like it’s not obvious that you’re fighting the instinct to pick him up and shake him around like a bobblehead until his skull pops right off his neck. “Right, because there’s totally monsters down there.”

“There are! You can come with me one day. I’ll prove it to you.” And it’s risky, to entertain that kind of thing, the concept of you two spending time together alone, where no one can see. Sebastian takes that as a challenge, apparently, because the diffident tilt of his lips turns smug and he’s saying,

“Then maybe you’ll sleep over one day.”

Stttttupid boy. He’s stupid. The stupidest man you’ve ever met because now you’re really, really holding onto every last shred of your self-control. The thought of you in his house, with you both sleeping in the same twenty-foot-radius of space is making you heat up more than the valley’s summer sun. A frog croaks in a nearby bush. Nausea pools in your intestines.

And you’re a terrible person, really, because even though you’re sweating and lightheaded from the heat you’re entertaining the thought of you both sleeping in the same bed. And it’s ridiculous. Really. You’re both adults who are perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed without it meaning anything. Any particle of logic that enters your brain is vaporized by the heat of it. Your stomach is twisting and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

He’s watching you. Still watching. Waiting for something to happen. The look he’s giving you is bordering on defensive, as if he’s anticipating a rejection. Stupid man. By now, he should realize you’re not prone to giving him rejections, of all people.

“Maybe I will.” By some grace of whatever higher power is listening, you choke out the last puddles of your strength into a hopefully-confident tone of voice and the last words you have left in you for the night. It’s not a rejection. You hope he understands that. And he does. Oh, he has to understand what you mean by now, because he’s biting his lips and still. Looking at you. And waiting. All he does is wait. And you glance down and see his hands twitching at his sides. And you are going to do something. Something.

Oh, god. You’re thinking, Oh, okay, this is what this is, and he’s doing his stupid smile and the corners of his lips tuck in and you’re staring at them again. Really, really staring at them. You hope he notices. Your fingers are twitching now, too, almost aching with the need to hold something—to hold him and his twitching hands and spin them around in yours like a fingertrap. You want to get stuck and woven together, just for a moment. An aching, hurting, burning, devastating moment.

It’s all you want. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks now. And there’s a heat in your chest and your fingers and your head. Fingers twitching, eyes unblinking, and hands sweating; you wait. Wait for him to come closer. For him to do. Something. Soon.

It’s an impossible task for you. You are not one for initiative. Never have been, not since you left your stupid office job and took up your place on this stupid farm and fell in love with this stupid man. Initiative is a daunting, horrifying, overwhelming concept, and all of your ambition has been drained from you ever since you planted your first parsnip in the ground.

But but but. And this is how it always goes with you and Sebastian. But but but. There’s something about tonight. Something about tonight and the last week and the week before and the seasons before this that have carved this open wound into the middle of your diaphragm. Without even knowing it, Sebastian has clawed his way between your lungs and made an uneasy home in your heart. It’s disgusting, and maybe you’ll cough up all this adoration right on the doormat of his family’s house.

How long has it been? How long have you both been standing here like idiots and waiting and breathing and staring? How long? You are asking yourself too many stupid questions. Initiative. You think of it again—and now your hands are on Sebastian’s shoulders and you don’t have half the mind to wonder when you stepped closer.

You are not slow in your movements. Not at all. You are urgent and desperate and aching, but you give just enough time for him to pull away. In the back of your head, you wish that he’ll pull back and leave you empty and cold. But there is a warmth seeping through the cloth of his hoodie and tonight, you are stupid.

You’re staring for just a moment before you close your eyes and surge forward slow enough for him to stop you, but fast enough that he won’t get the chance to look at your embarrassing, longing, yearning face before you kiss him.

Because that’s it. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him, with your hands gripping his shoulders with bruising strength, and with your feet planted into the ground to stop yourself from either floating or flinging yourself into the lake. You’re kissing him. And he’s not pulling away. And his hands reach to touch your elbows gently. For a moment, you think he’ll shove you down and run away, but his fingers are tapping along your arms, leaving a buzz in your bones and your head and your heart.

You. Are kissing him. You are. You fucking. Did it. Joy floods your buzzing body and you hope he can’t hear how loud your skull is vibrating, how intensely your chest is rattling. Or how heavy your hands have become on his shoulders and how much you’re pushing back against him to get further, to pull him into you and you into him and pour in everything you’ve ever felt straight to his lungs. You’re kissing him.

And he’s warm. So warm. Unexpectedly so, and you feel your entire body heat up in innocent adoration and you want his fingers to curl around your forearms and ground you. His hands shift, and for a minute you think he might pull away, but now he’s dragging his fingers in small paths up your arm, above your elbow and brushing your shoulders. Ggggggggod. God. You’re gonna scream into his mouth and slap him. Stupid man.

In reality it lasts for a second, but the rush of feelings and thoughts and screams and cries that overwhelms your body makes it feel like it’s an hour. (At least ten minutes, maybe.) You wonder how he feels. You wonder if he’s trying to pour everything into you through this, too; or if maybe, he’s a normal fucking human being who is just kissing you to kiss you without all the grandeur and flourish and waxing poetic. Unbothered, you realize you won’t mind regardless of which it is.

Your eyes are closed, and you hope his still are, too, because if he opens them and sees you you might throw up all over him. For the fortieth time this week.

“Sebas— oh!”

And. There’s a voice and a distressed exclamation. It’s Robin. Holy shit. It is his mother.

The man you just spent an hour kissing (read: five seconds max) takes a moment to realize what just happened. You, on the other hand, have a ridiculous supercomputer in your head and you have long since figured out what just happened. You cannot believe this. This is embarrassing. A trip back to Zuzu City is well deserved now.

“I’m— so sorry. Oh goodness.” Robin is being way too polite. You’d thought for sure she would’ve yelled at you and banned you from coming to the mountains ever again. You already kissed goodbye to both Sebastian (literally) and your mining career. And half your fishing career.

Sebastian’s face is flooded in color. It’s soaked in red and radiating heat that you can feel even with the ten-foot distance you had placed between yourselves. He’s not looking at you or his mother, eyes instead fixed on the patch of torn up dirt behind you.

Finally, you process that Robin is the one apologizing to you, which is ridiculous and you wish she would’ve just pushed you into the river and screamed at you instead. You wish these people would’ve been a lot meaner to you already, and then maybe you would have never worked up the gall to kiss the man you’re stupidly in love with and cause this whole ordeal.

“I’m so sorry,” and you’re the one saying it this time. You turn to look at Robin fully and resist the urge to fall to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. Tonight, you committed a mortal sin—giving her son a big fat heart-stopping kiss on the mouth right in front of their house—and you can only be forgiven by death, and death alone.

There’s a confused look in her eyes, almost worried, and you think you might be actually shaking enough to launch yourself into the stratosphere like a space cannon. Instead, you channel the energy into completely turning yourself around and running away from the both of them.

Disastrous. This night has been disastrous. You would’ve rather actually puked on everyone’s shoes instead of going through whatever the hell that was. You’re never going to catch a break in this stupid town with these stupid people and stupid Sebastian and his too-sweet-for-her-own-good mom.

When you get home, you’re panting in exhaustion from sprinting across the valley, and your nerves and head are still buzzing and your lips are still warm from Sebastian’s being completely and willingly planted on them for about ten whole seconds. Your brain is too fried and melted to even consider the implications of everything you both just did, but you can’t seem to care.

You’re embarrassed. Wholly and utterly humiliated, and for a moment you cross your fingers and pray to whoever will listen that you won’t be a topic of discussion during Robin and Sebastian’s family dinner with everyone else.

You take a moment to catch your breath (an impossible thing) and finally collapse into your bed. You’re staring at your ceiling for what feels like hours, but you have a very poor sense of time and don’t trust that judgment at all. Everything settles in your head like mud shaken in a jar of water. And you smile. Dear god. Despite it all, you’re smiling and giddy and laughing to yourself, riding a high of schoolgirl-type-infatuation and post-kiss-adrenaline the weird, cruel excitement of the night.

You kissed him. You kissed Sebastian. You. Fucking. Did it.

The rest can be worried about tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Maybe even never, because you are absolutely going to avoid everyone and move in with the wizard instead, living in isolation for the rest of your life. But for now. You swing your feet and giggle like a twelve-year-old and replay the kiss in your head. Over and over. Like a sleep aid. You fucking did it.

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1K notes · View notes

callofdudes · 1 year

Text

Slapping their ass-

(Because why not right?)

Ghost

You and Simon had only been dating for six months. While those six months had been rough, you found it rewarding that Simon had come to trust you a little more than before. He allowed you to touch him in private much more than he typically would. He no longer reprimanded you for pulling his mask up enough for a quick kiss. The two of you were sparring when it happened. Ghost threw a right hook which you managed to dodge. You slipped in behind him and as a last minute thought you reached out your hand and slapped him right across the ass. It happened before you knew it happened and both of you froze. He turned to look back at you, eye twitching. There was an uncomfortably long silence where you both just kind of took in the moment. One about to kill and one about to be killed. "Simon... I-"

"Run."

You're not in too much trouble, don't be scared of him ;)

Soap

It was a dare because of course it was. You were sitting on a training mat with Gaz who held your feet as you finished your situps. You were going back over sml banter when you might have let it slip that you thought how cute Soap's ass looked in those stupidly tight workout shorts he sometimes wore on hot days. It was ridiculous not to look at him. Next thing you knew you were locked into the typical peer pressure of a dare. Soap was talking with Price when you walked up super casual. He nodded to your captain and politely smiled at Soap. "Mornin' Soap." He was about to reply when your hand came up behind him and smacked him right on those stupid shorts. You tried not to laugh at the look of shock and walked away. Once he recovered he smirked and ran after you, fully intending to slap you back. When he did, both of you laughed it off. This was a one time thing and totallynotthenewwayyougreeteachotherinthemorning-

Gaz

A mission. Both of you were camped out on a roof top. While you had taken position with your sniper Gaz held his eyes on the three entrances from the building and up to the roof you were both on. You had been sitting there for a grueling fifty minutes, making sure no one was left when you heard the call from Price that you were safe. Almost immediately you both sighed. You dropped the gun and covered your face, feeling about ready to cry you were so relieved. Gaz came over and sat down, smiling at you. "We're all good Y/n." He placed his hand hesitantly on the small of your back. "I think I need a minute." He nodded and patted your back and got up. When you were ready you got up and met him by the ladder with your stuff. He started going to the ladder last and on the way you reached your hand up and slapped him as hard as you could. "That's for scaring me back there." He froze for a second before nodding. "Can we continue this at home??" He's asking for a friend.

Price

Price was not having a fun day. In fact, he was having a, for lack of a better word, a shit day. He has been sitting there doing paperwork for what felt like hours. He admitted that his body relaxed when you walked in. You carried a warm cup of coffee in one hand and some food from the mess hall in the other. "Figured you'd be in here. Doing ok?" He nodded and stood, kissing you when you reached his desk. You placed down the items in your hands and rubbed his cheek. "Don't be too hard on yourself. I still need you in working order y'know." He scoffed. "And for what necessity would I need to be working, love?" You kissed his cheek again. "Don't get cocky now." His hands moved down to your spine to caress your hips. "Never." You both chuckled softly. You pulled away to let him sit, but as he was turning around he felt your hand slap him hard across the ass. He whipped around and you knew to run. You made it almost to the door before his body slammed into you. He pressed you against the wall and raised your arms above your head. "Whatever will I do with you." He chuckled. You didn't leave that office for a good bit. :)

König

You were late to the mess hall. You had guests over so the night before had been a hectic mix of parting and games. Probably wasn't the best thing in the world, but your hangover was only mild at most.

When you walked in everyone was at their tables talking to each other. You almost didn't notice that mountain of a man by the mess hall table of food until you got there. König was flipping through what looked to be a news paper absent mindedly, with no care for your existence. Poor thing was probably feeling to shy to sit down.

You grabbed your food but before going to your table you reached your hand down and slapped his ass, accompanied by your firm grip to get his attention. He whipped around, shaking and spluttering surprised. Everyone looked at the two of you, causing him to panic and attempt to hide himself again. "Come sit with me." You urged in a not so friendly tone. You could see him shaking in either fear or embarrassment. He grabbed his food, muttering as he followed you to a table.

Alejandro

He did it to you first. And after he did, the little shit took every precaution to make sure you couldn't physically do it back. He had cornered you by the wash hall and slapped you hard enough to mark with a comment about your previous nights escepades. You had been embarrassed, but Rodolfo was regularly exposed to your interesting relationship to care much. He just continued on and started to shower like nothing had happened. You forgot about the Cartel and every heist, scheme, robbery. Your new mission was to get him back. And you did. The poor boys when they first met you they knew they were in for it. Alejandro had gotten out to greet the guests, and you felt inclined to as well. That and the seating arrangement needed to change. So when he opened the door for Ghost you saw your opportunity. Before he could get another word out you slapped him so hard across that stupid little ass of his he just went wide eyes. Jaw open. You smirked and loudly proclaimed, "Finally! Dumb Vaquero!" He turned back to you and smirked. "Mi vida, guests." You stuck out your tongue. "Which means you can't do nothing about it." You were wrong. He did do something about it. He was still very proud you managed to one-up him.

Rodolfo

You were making breakfast and casually talking. The others weren't quite up yet, so you two had made a point to be quite. Rodolfo had an apron to keep his uniform clean, which to yours and everyone else's realization made his hips just that more prominent. He was casually flipping an egg when you walked by to grab the flower. Your hand slipped from your pocket and full on grabbed this man's ass. He gasped when you let go and turned to berate you. He scolded you as blush saturated his cheeks. His pink nose reminding you of a certain reindeer. You smiled. "What will you do about it?" Your smile didn't last long. He pulled you by the strap of your sweater, slammed you into the sink bent over and smacked you as hard as he could with the spatula in his hand. Rodolfo leaned into your ear and huffed. "Don't do that again, or next time I might not be so nice." Needless to say you did it again.

First time doing this, hope it was ok ✌️😅

2K notes · View notes

silantryoo · 10 months

Text

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — wish you were sober

aeri uchinaga's mansion, gangnam-gu, seoul, korea. 2:14 am.

WARNINGS ; cheating, violence, intoxication, mentions of drug use, (kinda) driving under the influence, general angst, implied home life problems (4.0k)

confusion. dread. betrayal.

y/n knew this feeling, where wonyoung had stared into her eyes for what was supposed to be one last time, telling her - showing her - that she didn't love her anymore.

the soft whispers of 'it's me, not you', and the dark eyes that seemed to be trained on everything but y/n's. she remembered everything, like a nightmare (because who remembers a good dream over something so detrimentally heartbreaking).

heartbreak.

that's what y/n was feeling.

"y/n?"

despite the loud reprimanding of minjeong behind her, or the bass that seemed to shake her entire being, all y/n could hear was her breath, hushed and quiet like the cries she had heard the day she met jang wonyoung, and the day she met yoo jimin.

jimin was supposed to love her.

the ace stood up, fully clothed except for the lack of the jacket - the one y/n had gifted her for their one hundredth day anniversary - which lay crumpled on the floor. her eyes glazed over with tears, her throat caught in a knot.

any other day, y/n would consider it regret on jimin's face, remorse, or maybe even love.

but she knew, no... jimin knew better than anyone that this wasn't love.

at least, she should've.

"it's not what it looks like." jimin reasoned out, pleading with y/n. behind her, kazuha covered her body, face flushed with alcohol and embarrassment.

minjeong scoffed, a smirk on her face. "it looks like you were eating her out."

jimin's eyes shifted, and it was almost like her irises had been replaced with a void, where nothing but fire and fury burned inside of them.

"fuck you, kim minjeong!" jimin screamed, stomping towards the mentioned girl. "why don't you stay out of our business for once?"

wonyoung knew this scene like the back of her hand, and despite her hatred for yoo jimin, she didn't want to see anyone get hurt.

"what if your underwear stays on for once?"

but unlike lily marrow, or like choi jisu, or any of the situations that had involved a high/drunk yoo jimin or anyone in a similar fashion, kim minjeong was making it difficult to avoid conflict.

"i'm gonna fucking kill you!" jimin grabbed minjeong by the hair, the latter girl gritting her teeth in pain.

wonyoung, although not exactly in the jimin prevention committee (which consisted of haewon who was currently drunk out of her mind, gaeul who was probably getting laid, and yujin who was no where to be found), had dealt with enough incidents of similar fashion to know how to defuse the situation.

the middle blocker stepped in, grabbing jimin's wrist.

jimin's grip only strengthened, her anger being amplified due to wonyoung's presence.

"you're gonna let her hurt me, y/n?" minjeong asked, y/n unresponsive and face blank. minjeong's eyebrows furrowed. "i showed you how much of a piece of shit she is, and you're gonna let her hurt me?"

"you... showed her?"

jimin looked at y/n, and it felt as if she was back in yeji's grasp, staring at herself in the mirror wondering why she wasn't good enough. why she was never good enough.

y/n had seen everything, and it was all kim minjeong's fault.

jimin raised her fist. all she felt was anger, like a red filter had somehow covered her thoughts, and sent her into a fury-filled haze. never in her life had she wanted to hurt someone as badly as herself, yet in front of her was minjeong, who was proving her wrong.

wonyoung grabbed her fist, holding it in place with all the strength she could muster.

the middle blocker looked at y/n, watching as her mind raced with nothing and everything, trying to both process and block the situation in its entirety.

it was familiar, and familiarity was a disease that plagued almost everyone in the room.

"stay out of this, wonyoung." jimin said lowly.

wonyoung never liked minjeong, but that didn't mean she wanted her to get hurt (and she knew that y/n would tear into herself if her best friend came out blooded and bruised).

"we have a game against KU next week." wonyoung reasoned out, making jimin falter. "if you hit her, you'll be suspended for the game, maybe longer."

the ace clenched her jaw. she hated that wonyoung was right, and hated the minjeong managed to end up unscathed.

jimin's hand dropped, and she roughly shoved her hand off minjeong. wonyoung gladly let go of jimin as well, and the three girl's turned their attention to y/n.

kazuha had been watching the three argue as she had gotten dressed. though their presence seemed to encapsulate the room, it was y/n's that seemed to overtake her field of view.

the girl seemed so small next to the three, head low and eyes shiny, as if she was trying not to break that exact moment.

kazuha wondered is she could face yunjin after everything she had done.

"baby..." fear ran through jimin's body. "baby, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to."

wonyoung watched silently, and for a moment, y/n's eyes met hers.

it was familiar, the look, and wonyoung couldn't shake the feeling of dread that surrounded her. still, no matter how horrible the situation was, she wasn't going to get involved unless y/n told her to.

she wasn't going to ruin y/n's chance at happiness, she just hoped she would break up with jimin for someone better (wonyoung wished it was her, but it wasn't. she knew that deep down).

"you're really gonna believe her?" minjeong interrupted, seemingly getting angrier by the second.

"i love you." y/n had never heard jimin more sincere in her life, but she didn't know what to believe anymore. "please believe me. baby, please."

y/n met jimin's eyes, and she saw nothing.

"who are you calling baby?" she stared at jimin, eyes glazed over in disgust as her lips quivered. "we aren't together anymore."

for a moment, jimin felt like she couldn't breath.

this was all wrong. it wasn't supposed to be like this. jimin knew she had messed up, but it wasn't her fault. it couldn't be, especially after everything.

she couldn't lose the one good thing in her life. not again.

"i'm sorry. please." jimin could feel familiarity rising in her chest, her sobbing now becoming pathetic wailing. she gripped onto wonyoung's arm, trying not to fall over. the copious amount of weed and alcohol was starting to get to her. "i'll be better. i'll do anything."

jimin could feel vomit rising in her chest, and she covered her mouth, turning to the closest thing she could find.

yena was sure to owe another fifteen thousand usd in damages.

y/n could feel her fingers twitch toward jimin, and it took everything in her to not run to the girl's side. her insides were screaming to protect her, to hold her, and to tell her that everything was going okay.

how could she do that when she wasn't okay herself? when the person that hurt her was the person she was trying to save?

when was someone gonna save her?

she looked over to wonyoung, her eyes laced in worry as jimin spewed her insides out into an expensive vase that looked european.

y/n wondered when wonyoung was gonna save her, if the taller girl even wanted to save her.

the middle blocker looked at her with worry, and with all the love she could muster in her beautiful, dark, doe-like eyes that told y/n that she was safe. that she was loved.

y/n knew she was delusional, but it seemed to amplify whenever she was near her ex-girlfriend.

she looked once more at jimin, and an ugly emptiness settled in her chest.

"can you take me home?" y/n whispered, her irises shifting to wonyoung.

wonyoung, who kept her safe. wonyoung, who she would listen to, who would listen to her. wonyoung, who loved her before, who she wished still loved her.

her wonyoung.

why couldn't jimin just be like wonyoung?

"are you fucking serious, y/n?" minjeong yelled so loud that her voice could be heard over the music. wonyoung frowned, not only at the yelling, but the footsteps that seemed to be coming up the stairs. "how many times do i have to remind you that she's your ex?"

wonyoung felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around to see alex baek and huh yunjin.

the volleyball player looked over to kazuha, marks on her neck on full display.

"what the fuck is going on here?" alex asked, looking over to jimin who seemed to be sporting the same marks as kazuha.

oh.

"kazuha?"

alex looked at yunjin, and her face morphed into something akin to one she had seen before at parties like this. the only difference was it was directed at jimin, and jimin never got caught.

the former defensive specialist looked over to jimin's girlfriend, and everything clicked. a sense of familiarity surrounded the room, as if she was relieving last year all over again.

yunjin launched herself at the girl, the former volleyball player holding her back but to no avail.

all she saw was red, and although her arms were held tightly by alex, she still had her feet. yunjin was gonna hurt jimin no matter what it took.

y/n looked over, kazuha joining alex as yunjin kicked the ace in the stomach.

y/n tried to rush over to the other girl, wonyoung hesitant, not wanting y/n to get hurt in the process. before the taller girl could stop her, minjeong grabbed her arm, now bruised from the girl's roughness from earlier.

"is your brain fucking broken?" y/n winced. minjeong's hold was like a vice grip.

wonyoung pushed minjeong back, shoving the girl harder than intended. she looked at y/n's arm, a red hand print wrapped around her wrist.

"are you okay?"

"wonnie," y/n spoke, her voice foreign to her. "jimin-"

"this is your fault!" minjeong yelled, eyes red as she pointed to wonyoung. wonyoung already knew deep down, she didn't need to be reminded. "if it weren't for you, none of this would've happened. everything would've been different."

wonyoung clenched her teeth, trying to shake off minjeong's words, trying to bite back the 'i know's and the 'i'm sorry's.

meanwhile, y/n rushed over to jimin as yunjin gave the ace one last kick to the side, mustering all the power that she could before she was pulled away by the other girl's.

y/n moved her hair from her face, examining jimin's tear-stained cheeks. there was something so angelic about the girl, even if everything jimin had done was akin to the devil himself.

"baby, please." jimin begged, her next words almost like her own proverb. "can you stay?"

y/n looked at wonyoung.

silently, she stood up, yunjin screaming and crying in the background as minjeong fumed silently. below y/n, jimin couldn't help but smirk at the shorter girl.

"wonyoung," y/n whispered. "can we go now?"

("yunjin, you need to calm down!"

"i'm gonna kill her!")

wonyoung? jimin could feel her head throbbing, maybe out of anger, maybe out of pain, but all she wanted to do was stand up and keep y/n here and away from wonyoung.

"if you leave with her, i swear to god." minjeong's voice was angry, and it held a disappointment that y/n had felt many times before.

"unnie..."

"i'm doing this to protect you!" minjeong screamed, her voice starting to get hoarse. "why don't you understand that? what did jimin do to you?"

wonyoung ushered y/n to go, guiding her gently into the hallway and out of minjeong's sight.

behind her, she could hear minjeong's cries, her words reverberating through her skull as she walked with wonyoung behind her, closing the door shut.

"you're leaving with her?" minjeong was muffled through the wooden door. "are you fucking kidding me, y/n?"

y/n wanted to stop, beg minjeong to forgive her just this once, but it part of her wondered if the older girl could even be reasoned with at this state.

the pair made it downstairs, a sea of people watching them in curiosity as y/n rubbed her wrist lightly. gently, wonyoung placed a hand on her midback, smiling down at her.

for a moment, everything was still.

upstairs, jimin sat on the bed, holding her side as she smugged. although ridden with anguish and rage - at herself, minjeong, and wonyoung - the girl couldn't help but laugh at yunjin pathetically struggling to fight her.

it was comedic, and jimin was enjoying the show.

"yunjin. go downstairs." alex shoved her out of the room, her eyes looking over to the ballerina beside her. "kazuha-ssi, please go with her."

looking at jimin as the girl left, alex spoke. "jimin... just, just stay here."

alex looked at the tearful minjeong, muttering curses about wonyoung and jimin under her breath, before going down to follow the two downstairs.

she left the door open, just incase jimin decided to start another fight.

wonyoung had found yujin in the basement, sitting in front of a room with only a beer bottle to nurse her back to sanity.

yujin wondered how much more she could take of this, but if it involved gaeul, then she would gladly do it for the rest of eternity.

"yujin-unnie." yujin looked up, giving a tired smile to her younger teammate. "can i borrow your keys?"

the older girl nodded, fishing her pocket for the keys to her black bmw i5. she handed it to wonyoung, her arms heavy with exhaustion.

wonyoung could feel her worry start to bubble up inside of her.

glancing up for a moment, she looked back down. "are you okay?"

"huh?" yujin closed her eyes slowly, the alcohol making her sorrow increase tenfold. "yeah, why?"

wonyoung bit her lip, the muffled moans from the room becoming more increasing. "where's gaeul-unnie?"

yujin opened one eye, and that told the middle blocker everything she needed to know.

"yeah..." yujin smile seemed sardonic, as if she was mocking herself for getting into a situation like this.

wonyoung looked at the girl in front of her, then to y/n, then back to yujin.

"do you want to come back with us?"

yujin looked at her for a moment.

"no." the captain shrugged, playing with the rim of her beer bottle. "i'm okay."

yujin wasn't okay, and she didn't know if that was going to end any time soon.

"unnie..."

"i'll be fine." wonyoung didn't believe her, and neither did yujin. "i need to make sure gaeul's safe. i'll see you later?"

wonyoung looked at yujin, sighing.

"okay."

yujin was never going to be okay.

the car ride to wonyoung's dorm was quiet, only the soft sniffling in the passenger's seat could be heard as the wind blew into the car, back windows rolled down slightly.

wonyoung had dealt with a drunk y/n before, she knew how nauseous the older girl got.

but there were no signs of y/n feeling that way, only the subtle movements of her wiping her cheeks, and the way that the car door seemed to have stray droplets of water on it (wonyoung was sure that yujin wouldn't mind, considering the captain had spilled a gallon of milk in the back at one point).

the two arrived twenty-three minutes later, and wonyoung pulled the car door open for the girl, guiding her to puke in the bushes before they made their way upstairs.

the entire place was empty, even the ra had gone to the uchinaga mansion. it was only them two, just like it was before.

it was an eerie feeling, like deja vu.

wonyoung opened her door, letting y/n sit comfortably before she turned on the ac. it blasted y/n's eyes dry, and any other time, y/n would've hated it. not this time, not when her eyes seemed to flow continously.

she was glad for the pain this time.

the taller girl sat beside her, though far enough to make it seem like a thousand miles away. wonyoung had decided y/n needed the space, to process everything.

y/n wanted anything but.

wonyoung looked at her. she was supposed to feel estatic, that the girl had broken up with yoo jimin, that wonyoung finally had a chance to get back with her. she was supposed to feel triumph.

she watched as y/n wiped her cheeks again, trying to get rid of a stray tear, and all wonyoung could feel was the burden of selfishness.

the taller girl played with her fingers.

"do you want to talk?"

y/n shook her head. "no."

wonyoung looked at her for a moment, noticing that y/n was rubbing the top of her knuckles again. quietly, she went to her desk, grabbing a spare blanket that laid upon her chair.

she wrapped it around y/n's shoulders.

"i'm sad." y/n muttered, feeling wonyoung's arms leave her shoulders.

wonyoung wanted to reach out, but not right now. not when y/n was hurting.

"i know." she said simply, cutting the conversation short.

she couldn't do this. wonyoung could have everything she's ever dreamed of, but not like this. she never wanted it to be like this. she just wanted it simple, she wanted it sweet.

she wanted to love y/n, the way that a person should love another.

y/n looked at her, wonyoung's eyes followed the sway of the curtains, the blinking of the fire alarm, and everything else imaginable. everything but her, just like then.

wonyoung looked everywhere but at her.

"did you ever love me?"

wonyoung looked at her, trying to understand why y/n had asked such a stupid question.

"i did." wonyoung smiled, her heart bursting at the thought of the girl beside her. "i loved you so much that i was scared of hurting you."

y/n went silent, and wonyoung wondered if she had seen right through the volleyball player.

"why did you hurt me then?"

wonyoung faced the girl, her eyes gleaming under the dimly lit room. it was like wonyoung couldn't breathe, like the first time she had messed up at practice, or the last time she had argued with her mom.

her biggest fears had come true.

"i hurt you?"

wonyoung watched as y/n smiled, wrapping herself in the middle blocker's scent. "you hurt me more than jimin had ever hurt me."

oh.

"i'm sorry." wonyoung wanted to hide in her closet back home, where the sounds of screaming and fighting were muffled, and where she'd stay until the light seeped through the cracks of the door. "i didn't know."

y/n shrugged, shivering under the blowing air. it was silent, and wonyoung hated it, the heavy atmosphere making way for all the worries that the co-captain seemed to carry with her.

y/n scanned her ex-girlfriend's features, and came to the realization that the ac wasn't enough to stop her tears this time.

"wonyoung?" y/n loved the feeling of her name on her tongue.

wonyoung hummed, head lost in her own forest of guilt.

"can you kiss me?"

wonyoung's heart leaped from her chest and into her throat, nearly choking the girl. part of her was worried that her delusions were starting to manifest into something more worrisome, but y/n stared at her, and that was enough to know it was real.

"i, i can't." wonyoung shook her head, tears falling down y/n's face. "you're drunk."

she needed wonyoung. "please."

"y/n." but wonyoung didn't know that. "you're drunk."

being drunk meant lowering her guard, and that meant there was a chance of wonyoung finally seeing her, of trying to understand her and how she truly felt.

y/n would always be jang wonyoung's, even if neither knew it.

"i know." y/n whispered, getting closer and closer to wonyoung.

this was exactly what wonyoung wanted, but not like this. she wanted every part of y/n, sober and awake, breathing and smiling.

"you're not gonna remember this." wonyoung murmured back. she could feel the older girl's breath against her face. the soft hints of mint and liquor filled up her senses.

everything was almost the same. everything was almost perfect.

"i know."

y/n deserved everything that wonyoung could offer, and if this was something wonyoung could do for her, she would provide, even if there was a sinking in her chest.

"okay."

y/n closed her eyes, feeling familiarity surround her. the taste of cherry - of memories - clouded her senses, and it was almost as if she could reach wonyoung again, like their story didn't end the way it ended.

familiarity was a disease, and it killed l/n y/n from the inside and out.

wonyoung pulled away upon feeling a dampness that fell upon her cheeks. it wasn't hers. she promised herself that she would never cry in front of y/n again, meaning...

"please don't cry." wonyoung felt heavy, like yujin who sat alone, waiting for a sign of hope. "i'm sorry."

y/n could feel wonyoung wipe her tears away, and a wave of nostalgia - of pain, suffering, happiness, and love - overtook her. she was scared that it felt right, and that she could never have it again.

wonyoung loved her.

"you taste like her." y/n sobbed, piercing wonyoung's heart.

right, wonyoung thought, her mind raced with thoughts of giving her delusions up. she loves jimin, even after everything.

wonyoung bit her tongue.

"jimin?"

she watched as y/n shook her head.

"wonyoung."

oh.

"you taste like wonyoung." y/n wanted to pull her throat out. she wanted to stop crying, to get rid of the lump that suffocated her. "i miss wonyoung."

it echoed in wonyoung, like a speaker at the end of a tournement, or the microphone at an award show, rough and loud, and full of dread.

i miss wonyoung.

"i'm sorry."

y/n cried harder, covering herself with the blanket. she wanted to hide. she wanted to feel safe, to pretend everything was okay until it was. she wanted to be protected from her feelings, to forget.

she wanted jimin.

wonyoung watched the girl, not sure what to do anymore. she stared and stared and stared, frozen, a part of her torn on what to do.

it was her fault. it had always been her fault.

jang wonyoung had always hated herself.

y/n's cries eventually faded into hiccups, her head wrapped nicely under the blanket that smelt like her ex-girlfriend. her eyes were swollen, and her cheeks red.

wonyoung stood up, grabbing a bottle of water and handing it to the girl who yawned loudly.

the taller girl bit back a smile, her heart still fluttering despite her self-hatred.

"i don't know when jiwonnie's coming back, so you can just sleep on my bed." wonyoung said softly, like she was afraid to shatter the girl.

y/n looked at her, pleading, begging.

wonyoung could feel a lump in her throat.

"i don't wanna be alone." y/n said.

"y/n." wonyoung tried to reason. "you're drunk."

y/n wasn't going to remember this, and wonyoung wondered if that would break her or heal her (she knew what the answer was).

"just stay with me." y/n pleaded, her eyes closing as her head fell against the cushions. "just for a little bit."

y/n could pretend everything was fine after this, but she just wanted to let her guard down. just this once, just this fleeting moment.

"okay." wonyoung was selfish, but she would tear herself a new heart if it meant a smile to y/n. "whatever you want."

carefully, wonyoung slid into the bed, listening as the world faded away, y/n cooped up in her arms.

she knew this feeling, where she held y/n close at night, seemingly forever as the two the breathed the same breath, smiled the same smile, and loved the same love.

the soft whispers, planning the future together, and their dark eyes that seemed to find each other's despite the pitch black night. she remembered everything, like a dream, because who remembers a nightmare over something so detrimentally heartbreaking.

heartbreak.

that's what wonyoung was feeling.

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#jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #aespa x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

429 notes · View notes

l3m0ncyan · 1 year

Text

If only

Marc Spector x Platonic! Reader, Steven Grant x Platonic! Reader, Jake Lockley x Platonic!Reader

Reader is gender neutral

Summary: After a huge argument between you and Marc, you two go without speaking for weeks. Until one day, the Moon system is missing and you go out looking for them to bring them back and apologize.

Note: Inspired by The Last of Us >:) also its more Marc x teen!reader tbh

Word count: 8,357 (gaahd daaamn)

Warning: ANGST, death, graphic, mentions of suicide

—————————————————————

Standing above your city, you looked down at the passing small cars and pedestrians. Each of them had their own story, and you wondered how they were doing. If they were going through what you were going through.

Each thought brought you closer to the edge of the abyss than you were already. The wind tried to blow you back as if to save you from your actions.

However, why should you be saved? Your parents were killed by a villain, and you spent your entire life trying to make them happy. But they had vanished, as had your motivation. You had no one else to love you the way they did.

You missed them so dearly that all you wanted to do was go and see them.

After reaching an acceptance, you lifted your foot off the cement, ready to free fall into peace.

“Are you alright?” You heard a man's voice come from behind you.

You turn around to see the same man dressed entirely in white. He was wrapped in cloth and wore what appeared to be body armor on parts of his body. A golden crest adorned the center of his chest. In addition to his costume, his mask featured two white glowing orbs.

“If I was, I wouldn’t be thinking about jumping off,” you say. He nods, admitting his obvious question.

Without much thought, you look back to the edge and lift your foot up once again.

He extends his hand immediately as a deterrent to you continuing. "Wait, I know you might feel like there's nothing else to live for; believe me, I've felt that way before. But how will you know that the finish line was a better end if you just stop here?"

You keep quiet and just observe him. The wind howls, as if to say, take his hand and listen to what this man has to say. It wasn't what he said that made you reconsider, but rather how he attempted to save you. Why you?

You step off the ledge and take a step toward him. You can see him almost breathe out in relief.

His mask vanishes, and you are startled before seeing a man with dark brown curly hair and tanned skin. He appears firm, but his eyes convey kindness.

You reach out to him and take his hand in yours.

—-----

It was the middle of winter and spring four years later. The cold and plush feel of the sheets was incredible. The blanket on top of them kept you close and let you know you were safe.

However, a masculine voice broke all that peace. A well-known one at that.

“Hey, wake up”

The sound of metal rubbing against metal indicated that the curtains were being pulled apart, signaling the end of your comfort. You drew the blanket up to shield your face from the sun's rays.

It was immediately pulled down, and your body balled into a fetal position as the winter cold engulfed you. As you slowly opened your eyes, you noticed Marc holding your blanket away from you. As the drowsiness faded, you reached out an arm to reclaim it, but he yanked it away.

"I know the bed is comfortable, but it's time to go, kid." Marc draped the blanket over the bedframe. He then exited the small room and entered the main part of the apartment.

You sat up slowly, your bones cracking as you did so. You looked out the window, blinking away the sleepiness, to see the day was sunny but cold.

Groaning, you stood up and walked out of your room. You slowly shuffled towards Gus’s tank, grabbing the small plastic can of fish food.

“Already fed them,” a chipper voice was heard.

Looking through the fish tank to the kitchen, you noticed Steven preparing something on the stove. Giving a quick hum, you placed the food back on top of the tank.

“Morning to you, Gus," you said as you lightly tapped the glass of the tank.

You walked to the kitchen to catch a scent of what Steven was cooking.

"Good morning, you three." You sat at the table, awaiting breakfast.

Steven approached you, carrying a plate of vegan sausage and eggs with toast. "Eat up, you and Marc are-”

"Are we going to patrol again? But it's light out and people are walking around," you said as you picked up a piece of vegan meat from the plate with a fork.

"The guys who were trying to catch only happen to come out during the day. So you'll be bait," Marc clarified as he sat down and started eating from his plate.

“Like always,” You grumbled

You guys continued to eat your breakfast before getting ready to start your days.

—

You tried looking for the location that Marc mentioned earlier for today's small mission while walking side by side through the streets of London. Even though it was later, the cold was still with you two, so you wore two layers of clothing.

Shivering, you pulled the collar of your hoodie up to your chin to get warmth. “So who is it we’re trying to stop?”

"A group has been kidnapping people for human trafficking," Marc says before motioning to a table with two seats in front of a cafe.

You two sat at the table, puzzled as to why you were there.

"That's bad. And a coffee break?" As you leaned back in your chair, you said

Marc shakes his head and motions to a building under construction. It was surrounded by a green fence and a large tarp sign with the name of the construction company.

"That's where they're meeting; for now, we'll just wait for them to turn up." Marc reclines in his metal chair.

A waitress approaches and starts asking about your orders. Marc takes the lead as he examines the menu. Meanwhile, you're too preoccupied with looking behind Marc.

Behind him was a table filled with students your age. Each of them had a drink in front of them, and one of them appeared to make a joke based on the way everyone began to laugh.

You couldn't help but be envious of the scene. You were young but mature enough to attend college. However, you were unable to attend one due to a number of factors. As a result, you found it difficult to make friends or socialize with people your own age. Instead, you were with Marc, fighting bad guys.

A voice sounding muffled slowly became clear and snapped you back into reality, “Y/N”

Blinking in realization, you saw Marc and the waitress staring at you, waiting.

"What do you want, kid?" Marc inquired, sounding less annoyed and more patient.

"Oh, I'll just get some matcha tea." You looked up at the waitress for confirmation, and she nodded and walked away.

You two sat in silence, your gaze fixed on the group. Marc noticed as well after following your eyes.

“Anything on your mind?” He turned back to you.

You slightly jumped at how Marc was able to notice you in deep thought, “Nothing really…..actually there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you”

Marc raised a brow and asked, “What is it?”

You shrank, not expecting to be able to speak, and said, "Uh, so I was wondering if I could go back to school..."

Marc stared at you and said, “College?”

You nodded, and the waitress returned with your drinks before you could explain further. You two exchanged an awkward smile before she asked if that was all. She returned to the cafe with just a nod from you two.

“How long have you been thinking about it?” Marc questions that once you two are alone again,

"For a while now," you cross your arms and lean back, your gaze fixed on the road and passing cars.the street and passing cars. "I was thinking I could fit it in on days when you don't need me and I'm stuck at home all day."

You say the last part with annoyance, which Marc notices.

Marc sighs, “Y/N…”

"I know you say that being out in public makes it easy for bad people to find me, but I guarantee you that I can handle myself." You put your elbows on the table to get closer to Marc so he can listen better.

“Y/N”

“I won’t get too many classes!”

“Y/N”

"I'll even stay late to patrol with you guys, and-"

“No!” Marc raises his voice.

You don't mind that a few people in the cafe are now staring at you two. You look down at your untouched cup of matcha, angry rather than sad. Marc sighs, running his hand through his hair.

"We can't risk problems like that; college might make things worse, and you won't be able to handle it on your own if something goes wrong," Marc declares.

You remain silent and stare down at your cup. Marc looks at you, his lips pursed in guilt. He tries to think of ways to break the tension, but nothing comes to mind.

A few cars speed up but then slow down to turn around in front of the previous building. Two men enter and take a look around before closing the gate to the entrance.

"Are you ready to go?" Marc casts a glance your way, but you avoid his sights.

"Please, just—... We'll finish this job and then talk about college, okay?" Marc nearly begged.

Looking back up, you made eye contact, thinking about it before nodding, “Okay”

—

After going over the plan again, you were sent to speak to the group. A few men stood guard by the gate, watching you as you approached. "Hey, I believe I was told to come here?" You looked around and pointed to your phone.

"Another way she's getting people in?" one of the men asks the other.

"She?" You thought to yourself, "This is the first time I hear a girl is leading shit."

“Yeah, follow us” the man finally says and the gate opens, letting you two in.

You look behind you to see if Marc is nearby, but he isn't. You already know he's hiding and trust that he'll be there every step of the way, but being alone for this part is terrifying.

They lead you to the first floor of the unfinished structure. Because it isn't built, the walls aren't there, allowing the wind to blow inside. It is detrimental to your body's temperature.

Looking around, there are a few wooden tables with guns on top of them. It was clear that the group didn't care that it was out in the open.

When they notice you looking at the weapons, they zip tie your hands together without a warning. You struggle to pull your hands apart. The friction you create against the plastic causes your wrist to burn.

“What the fuck?! Get these off!” You give your best acting.

"Shut up, you guys always yell too loud and it's making me deaf," grunts the man. "Let her know that we have another one."

A man nods and walks away. The man walks towards you, pulling a chair to himself and sitting on it backwards.

“Well get comfortable, because it’ll be the-“

"Will this be the last time?" You scoff, shaking your head. You didn't care if it messed up the plan; you were still irritated with Marc.

"You guys just don't know how to make conversation." you moan

"Looks like you're not scared anymore," the man says with a small laugh. "Can you tell me your name, kid?"

"Ew, don't call me a kid, and why does it matter what my name is? You're just going to change it, or however human trafficking works."

This time, the man laugh loudly, "Human trafficking?! That has nothing to do with what we plan to do."

A group walks in on cue, and a woman holds a long object wrapped in cloth. “We found it! Call Vanessa!”

You take a look around and notice how pleased everyone is with the info they have got. You're curious on what everyone is so excited about. Another woman walks in, her ginger hair tied in a tight ponytail. She's dressed in a dark green tank top, cargo pants, and combat boots. The thing is, she's your age.

At this point, it is obvious who is the leader of the whole situation and who they call Vanessa.

She walks by and glances at you and asks, “How many do we have now?”

“About 14, you think that’s enough?” The man from before stands up from the chair.

“We’ll see” Vanessa grabs the object and begins to unwrap it.

You concentrate on the mystery item because some of the colors show through each time the cloth is unwrapped. Your eyes then widen with each repetition.

Unwrapped, Vanessa holds up a cane. A cane with a crocodile head on top.

You recall Steven telling you about a fight he and Marc had with a man named Harrow. With the assistance of a goddess named Ammit, he used a cane similar to the one now in use to murder people.

Marc assured you that it had been destroyed and that you were safe, but are you still safe?

The way the two explained the power it possessed scared you. Jake, on the other hand, terrified you with his explanation of the world's future if it returned.

“Bring them to me, we’ll test it out” Vanessa says as she grips the cane.

You blink and realize what is about to happen. Two men lift you up and drag you towards Vanessa.

“Get off!” You try to get away from their grip but they tighten their hold. You search up and around the place, hoping Marc or Steven is there.

Vanessa brings the top of the cane towards your face. You move your head back to escape, but Vanessa keeps drawing it closer.

Marc nor Steven nor Jake were seen. Since they were taking long, you acted on your own.

You use your right hand to pull out the pocket knife you're carrying. You take out the blade and force it through the loop of the zip tie on the plastic. With your hands free, you flip the knife around and aim it at one of the guys' thigh. You slam it into their femur, eliciting a scream from the man.

Both men lose their grip and you stand up, swinging the knife at the other man’s throat. As they back away, more come.

Vanessa glares at you before she tries to use the cane. It starts to glow and you back up into a corner. Theres nowhere to go as the rest of the group surrounds you.

Before Vanessa could send you flying, Marc comes in and side-kicks her down. The cane clatters to the floor and skids across the room.

She lifts herself up and looks at Marc with hatred, "Its you"

Looking at Marc in his suit, he swings left and right at the men. A few members of the group appear from behind you while he is busy. You duck the punches with your knife in hand and target specific areas of their body with the blade.

With the last one dropping to the floor, you catch your breath and look over to see Marc still fighting. To your right is a woman shooting at him but of course not working. Still, it is throwing Marc off course as he fights.

You rush up to her, wrapping your arm around her neck and stabbing her in the stomach. As her body falls limp, she drops the gun to the floor.

Marc notices and finishes off the last man before walking to you.

“Let’s go” He says harshly

“They have the cane, we could get it back” You gesture to where the cane is.

“Let’s go!”

You both go quiet as you hear a loud buzzing sound. As if something is powering up. Turning around, you see Vanessa pointing the cane towards you two, a purple light glowing brighter and brighter.

Not hesitating, Marc picks you up before running out of the building and flies off the ground. A blast passes you two just missing by a bit.

Vanessa glares at you two as you make a break for it.

“Get more ready” she commands the last of her team standing, “He’s going to come back for this”

She holds the cane tightly in her hand, the metal crocodile shining from its polished material.

——

Marc set you down at the apartment after you kicked and squirmed in his grasp. His suit vanished, and he began to walk away from you, hands on his hips, looking down.

"I told you to stick to the plan," he said, his voice deep within his throat. You can almost feel the lingering anger from it.

"I did, but as you saw back there, I was almost killed!" you scrunch up your face as you set your sweater down and sit on the couch. "And I did just fine on my own," you crossed your arms and turned your gaze away from him.

"Really?" he scoffs, "Because it looked like you were being cornered back there, with what? A knife?" He mocked

You try to get a word in but right now Marc is blowing up, “You straight up ignored what I asked of you and almost got yourself killed!”

“But I didn’t,” you say firmly, looking straight into his eyes.

Marc bites his cheek and shakes his head, “You can forget about college”

“What?!” You stand up from the couch.

"You heard me, if I can't trust you to follow a simple plan, how can I trust you to go somewhere as simple as class?"

"Oh, so just because I decided to stand up for myself, you don’t trust me anymore?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, and you both glared at each other. Steven could feel the tension rising and knew things were about to get out of hand. He made the decision to take control of the body right away.

Marc’s composure became timid and soft, and you knew why. Looking up at Steven, he gave a small, one sided smile.

“How about we cool off shall we?” He patted you on the shoulder and began to walk to the kitchen, “Ill make us lunch alright? How does that sound?”

He turned to you with a grin but you stared down to the floor and mumbled, “Im not hungry”

From there, you marched up to your room and shut the door.

“You two could have just talked it through,” Steven sighed.

Jake hummed in response, while Marc stayed quiet.

“You guys might not be related but you sure act like father and daughter”

You sat on your bed, your gaze fixed on the wall across from you. There were a few posters and wall decorations, such as shelves with figurines, but directly across from you was a picture of you and Marc at a lake. Jake was cooking kebabs on the grill in the picture next to it. Another picture of you with Steven and Layla.

Just one mistake, and now you've lost the chance to get a normal sense of life. Lost the ability to make friends. Lost the ability to experience so many things all together.

As your thoughts ate you up, you felt a burst of wind. Soon after Khonshu was sitting at your desk that was in the corner of your room. He held his staff and looked at you, waiting for you to acknowledge his presence.

“Why are you here?” You said annoyed.

“I came to see if you might have been climbing through the window again.” He set the staff down, making it lean on the wall.

“You know about me sneaking out?”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I haven’t told your three fathers out there.” He slightly chuckled.

Your face scrunched up, “Don’t say that, you’ll probably jinx it”

After that, there was silence, and Khonshu exhaled, "They're just trying to protect you, especially Marc." They all do care about you”

“If they did care about me, they wouldn’t keep me locked up here,” you say, looking over to the window, seeing how it's still sunny out there.

Khonshu hesitates before continuing “...I know I shouldn’t say this but the reason why he has been keeping you safe is because he sees his younger brother in you”

“He has a brother?”

“Had” he clarifies.

"Marc blames himself for his death and never forgave himself, despite the fact that he was only a child," Khonshu continues. "Perhaps that's why he wants to protect you and heal that wound."

You wrapped your head around what he said and only got angrier, “...So the real reason he kept me around was to use me as some kind of therapy?”

Khonshu paused, “That isnt’t what I said”

“Well thats what it sounds like” you laugh and run your hands through your hair. You stand up from your bed and grab your other hoodie from your dresser and walk to the window.

“Where are you going?” Khonshu stands up, grabbing his staff in the process.

“Just– leave me alone” After you open the window and climb out onto the fire escape.

You descend the escape and walk to the place where you go to be alone. It’s a 20 minute walk from the flat but it’s worth it. It is an abandoned building with a stable flight of stairs leading to an open area with views of London. You walk over to the edge and sit, allowing your legs to dangle. Normally, you do this at night, but because the sun is shining, all you can do is stare at the sky and think.

As night falls, you can hear heavy footsteps ascending. When you turn your head, you see Marc in his white suit. His mask falls away, and you can see a sense of relief wash over him. His chest heaves as if he's just flown all over town looking for you. That he did.

You begin to stand up and he rushes towards you. He examines your face to see if your fine and then brings you into a hug.

“What the hell, you don’t just run off like that without telling me or sending me a text” he breathes out.

It would have been nice, but remembering what Khonshu said makes the embrace seem insincere. He was hugging his brother instead of you. You push him away, and he is taken aback but maintains his distance.

“Im tired, and I just want an explanation…” you finally say

Marc nods and asks, “Is it about college? Is that why you left?”

"Part of it” You breathe out, "But that’s not what I wanted to talk about”

“Then what is it?”

You take a moment to find the words but they aren’t hard to find. This makes Marc nervous though.

“Why did you save me?”

It went quiet, Marc looked at you confused, “What?”

“Back when we met, I was going to jump off that building, but you came and talked me out of it.” You hold your ground as you stare at him.

Marc stays quiet and you take that chance to continue talking, “I was supposed to die that day, I already had no plans for my life so I was ready. Instead, you came and saved me, why?”

“…I couldn’t just let you throw your life like that“

You scoffed, “Then tell me it was for me and not your brother”

Marc’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched, “Khonshu told you about my brother?”

You nodded, “So that’s why you saved me? To get closure or something?”

“No, Y/N I-“

“Then what?! Why was I so different that you had to save me?!” you said impatiently.

This time, you shoved him back. He stumbled but stayed on his feet.

“I’m now stuck here dealing with the bad part of the world again! I can’t even make friends because you think I’ll get hurt! And I have to live with hiding from everyone and everything, because of you!”

You try to shove him again, but Marc grabs your hands and pulls them away from you. He was hurt, but discovering the cane was back and failing to stop it was drowning it out. He didn't mean to say what he was about to say.

"Well, I couldn't just let you jump off and end up being a flat piece of meat! What?! Did you want to be another name on the list of people who couldn't deal with life anymore?!"

Taken aback, you step back. Marc notices what he said and closes his eyes in regret, “Kid, I didn’t mean to say that”

“…I should have jumped off faster,” you finally say, “I wish we had never fucking met”

Marc's lips part slightly and only stares at you. He forgets about earlier today and is only focused on you. How there are tears falling from your eyes when they only come out when you two are watching a sad movie. How you are angry when that only happens when you lose at Mario Kart. All these innocent reasons were out of the picture because he had said something he shouldn’t have.

“Y/N..” he reaches out to you but you slap his hand away.

"Don't fucking touch me," your words sting and tense Marc.

You walk past him and walk down the stairs, wiping all the tears with the sleeve of your sweater. Meanwhile Marc stays frozen in the same spot.

It’s been two weeks since your argument with Marc. Steven and Jake have taken turns in taking care of you since Marc decided to go AWOL.

He didn't do it because he wanted to; he did it because he knew you despised him. Despised him for never telling you the whole truth about your saving. But most importantly, for insulting your feelings.

The real reason you were angry with him wasn’t that he saved you. It was because he didn’t save you for you.

You were actually angry with him the first week. You didn't want to deal with him. You purposefully ignored him for the first week, only calling out to the other alters. When this happened, Steven and Jake felt terrible and looked at Marc, who only hid.

However, by the second week, all of that rage had vanished. You were no longer angry with him; instead, you missed him. You wanted to apologize, but you assumed he despised you because of the harsh words you used.

It was now raining and cold. It was like Mother Nature knew you were feeling gloomy and wanted to make it worse. You climbed out of bed and looked outside to the storm that was passing through. You frowned and turned to the door of your room.

You peeked to what was the rest of the apartment. It was quiet with only the bubbles from the fish tank bubbling and the rain hitting the roof. The boys weren’t here which left only you in the flat. You walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge to see if there was anything to eat.

Failing to do so, you shut the fridge door and turned to see a yellow lined sheet of paper on the dining table.

Taking a closer look, it looked like Marc’s handwriting.

Knowing it was from him reminded you again of how much you missed him and his company. You were regretting ever trying to argue with him. If you hadn’t, he would have shared breakfast time with you like every other morning.

Hey, we went to find the cane. Well, be right back. Steven made some vegan stuff and left it on the stove. Please eat.

Even though it was just writing, you can tell Marc was hesitant in starting the note and felt like he was on thin ice. He was probably convinced by the other two to write.

It is delicious! I recommend heating on the stove instead of microwaving. Eat! You need strength! Also, we have news for you when we come back :)

You smiled at how Steven was so cheerful. You were honestly excited about what they had to say. Hopefully it meant you and Marc can stop going through silent treatment.

Cuídate mija, don’t open the door for anyone. My card is on the bed if you don’t want to eat Steven's cooking ;)

You almost laughed knowing it was Jake, he always loved bullying the other two. Getting to the last part, you notice how it switched to Marc’s handwriting again.

We’ll be back soon.

Love From,

Marc, Steven, and Jake

You stared at how the word "love" was crossed out and wondered if Marc was the one who thought of it or if the others did. Either way, it moved you and you felt even worse about yelling at Marc.

You fold the note and put in the pocket of your sweatpants. Going to the fridge, you grab the pot of pasta and walk over to the stove. You heat it over the flame and wait for it boil.

In the meantime, you return to your room. You stoop to the level of your bed and place your hand beneath it. You move your hand around mindlessly until it comes into contact with a small box.

Pulling it out, you open it two see two blunts with a lighter inside. Once you take out both the lighter and a blunt, you make your way to the nearest window.

Taking a look at the lighter, you examine the almost peeling moon sticker on it. It was from a sheet that you saw at the market when you went with Marc for groceries a while back

You slipped it into the basket before he noticed it in the line. All he did was simply look at it and give a small chuckle, glancing at you before putting it with the rest of the items.

You smiled as you inserted the blunt between your teeth and lit the end with your lighter. You inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke out the window and into the world. Notifying everyone who passes by that you are high at the moment.

The soothing patter of the rain put you in a pondering state. Wondering if you can handle another two months of not speaking to Marc again.

Actually you couldn’t, and you didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to give him the silent treatment anymore and you wanted to apologize. Apologize for not having a civil conversation which turned to a yelling battle.

You thought of the choice of words for Marc and how to repay him for the damage that was done.

Letting out another breath of smoke, you came to a closing.

“Hope you aren’t angry with me” you sigh and put out the blunt.

—————

A Few Hours Earlier

—————

In his Moon Knight suit, Marc was jumping from building to building trying to find the new hiding spot of the group. The storm made it almost difficult to see any suspicious buildings in sight. However, they weren’t even in his mind right now.

“Mate, I think it’s time to talk about Y/N”

“Yes, I think you two should talk when we come back”

“I know,” Marc continued staring straight ahead, “I just don’t know how to apologize. They probably hate me”

“They don’t hate you, they idolize you”

“They do?”

“Of course, that move they did back at the hideout was yours. They have been watching you anytime you go and fight”

Marc maintains his silence but can't help but smile. This time it hits him how much he misses you as well. He misses being able to tell you about his day. Your movie nights and Nintendo tournaments. For you, he’ll do anything to make it up to you.

“…I’ll talk to them when we’re done with this,” he says.

Steven and Jake smile, “Then let’s get this done quickly”

Marc continues running on top of the roofs until he stops and sees a building with purple flowing out of the windows.

“That’s them”

Marc stands on the edge of a nearby building and examines each room, trying to find where the so called Vannessa is at.

“There”

Marc looks over to one window and sees Vanessa talking to some group members. In another window he can see the cane on a table unprotected.

Marc gets off the building and jumps into one of the windows closest to the cane. With the breaking of glass, everyone in the building is now alerted but Marc can take them.

That is until he feels his power begin to leak out of his body. Confused he looks to his hands and sees how his suit is starting to disappear to where soon he is just in his casual clothes. Looking around, he sees the group corner him with guns drawn. He doesn’t move a muscle and only raises his hands up to show surrender. Soon Vanessa makes her way in and stares at Marc.

"I don't have a good feeling about this"

“Took you long enough. Got lost?” She said snarkily, “Oh wait, I forgot you're an ex-marine right?”

She then looks over to one of the men and gestures her head to Marc, “In the leg”

Before Marc can understand, a shotgun is loaded, soon aimed, and a bullet is fired at his thigh. Marc lets out a scream of pain and drops to his knees, holding the wound. Two men rush in and hold him against the wall.

"Marc!"

"Let me take control!"

Marc tries to get out of their grip, but with the pain in his leg throbbing, he feels his senses leaving.

Vanessa makes her way to him and crouches down to his level, looking into his eyes.

“To cut it quick, remember how that red witch controlled that small town? Well it turns out she had a barrier going on, so I said why not I do it too. Point A you crossed and point B you are now powerless and,”

Vanessa takes out a blade and lodges it into Marc’s other thigh, which causes him to groan in pain, but he continues to look at her.

“Mortal. Oh, and I know about your weird alter, Jack? Jake? I don’t fucking know, but I know he’s a pain in the ass but with no mobility, he’s nothing”

"Hija del reputa madre"

Marc glares at her and stays quiet.

“Aren’t you wondering why I’m being a bitch to you?”

“Well when you see a bitch you’ll expect them to be a bitch” Marc remarks which causes Vanessa to land a punch on his face.

“Funny. You’re not going to be laughing soon. Do you know who I am?”

Marc huffs and just shrugs, “Why don’t you just tell me and get this over with”

Vanessa lands him another punch and this time Marc is now bleeding from his nose.

“Switzerland. You were there looking for the scarab, and my father,” Vanessa stabs Marc once again in the thigh, “was there and you killed him. For what? For trying to make the world a better place?”

Marc doesn’t say anything but just glares at her. Vanessa scoffs and gets up, walking to another table.

“Tourniquet his legs” is all she says before grabbing a bat. A woman does what she says and ties a rope above Marc’s wound.

Everyone watches Vanessa’s moves, awaiting for next command. She turns to him and winds her elbow back before landing a blow to Marc's head.

——

The rain was still going, which is what lulled you into sleep. You were laying on the couch with an arm covering half your face. The blunt might have also been part of the equation in your slumber.

The coffee table was a mess before but now an even bigger mess with the bowl of food that Steven made being on there with the fork inside. Next to it was your ashtray which had what was left of your blunt.

You felt at peace before you heard urgent knocking at the door. Slowly opening your eyes, you sit up and hear your bones crack from being asleep.

Walking over to the door, you check the peephole and see Layla still knocking.

You open the door, and Layla looks at you a tad disappointed, "Hey, what’s up?”

“Can I come in? It’s urgent” She points to the inside of the apartment which you nod and let her in.

“Jesus, was that you?” Layla coughs and waves her hand to get the smoke that fills the room away.

“Uh, maybe. Anyway, what happened? You’re never this freaked out”

Layla bites her cheek, “Have you heard from Marc? Steven? Jake? Any of them?”

You blink, “Not as of lately, all I got was a note from them saying they were going to find the cane”

“Yeah, the last text I got was him saying he found the hideout, but I haven’t gotten a response.” Layla pulls out her phone.

She shows you the last message from him, which was about 5 hours ago. Usually Marc would need less than that to complete a job.

“Maybe things got heavy, they’re probably on their way now.” You try to reason, but in reality, you begin to worry.

“If they were, I would be able to see their location but it’s off. I have a bad feeling something might have happened” Layla's face is tense and she doesn't appear to be able to relax.

Usually Layla was the one who was the calmest amongst the trio. So whatever it was that happened must be bad.

“What do we do?” You cross your arms.

Layla fidgets with her wedding ring as she looks down, “I-I don’t know”

All you do is stare at Layla and try to think. The boys were always the brains in this sort of thing, all you did was follow. What would they do?

You can probably retrace your steps, but again, you have been missing out on all the meetings ever since you claimed your hatred for the side missions.

A blast of wind comes and blows away all the pages that were on the coffee table. You and Layla turn to the noise and see Khonshu. However, he looks rough and stressed. Having both of the ofthe group who always calm now stressed was odd and almost a bad omen. He doesn’t waste any time before he starts.

“They’re in trouble, the group created a barrier which caused me to unlatch from them”

“What?” You say with disbelief.

“There’s no time! They are in grave danger and need help!”He bangs his staff on the ground to get the message across.

You feel your heart begin to beat rapidly. You’re almost frozen by the news that they're in danger. They have saved you countless of times so it would make sense to repay the debt.

“Take me,” you say and Layla looks at you shocked.

She grabs onto your shoulders, “Y/N, no. We have to go together, we don’t know what they are capable of”

“I can handle it on my own,” you say before removing her hands and holding them, “I’ll be fine, I’ll send you the address and you can meet us there”

You begin to walk to Khonshu which he does not hesitate to give you your own powers temporarily. You are quickly enveloped in a similar suit of the Moon Knight’s. If it was a normal situation, you would have gloated but today was different.

“Wait Y/N!” Layla calls out but you are gone. She looks around to think before she calls for an old friend.

——

All you can do is keep running, jumping from building to building. Nothing else is on your mind but the three men who have been by your side for the past few years.

“It’s right there!” Khonshu called out.

You looked down and see a building with a purple glow coming from inside the windows before it leaves. That must have been the barrier that was made to stop Marc and the others from having Khonshu by their side.

Khonshu immediately takes you to the building's entrance. It doesn’t take you long before you burst through the doors. The suit disappearing at the same time. You don’t let Khonshu explain to you how many there are or what they are capable of doing. All you want is to see Marc again and apologize for everything you've said. How you are glad that you met him.

You look around the first floor quickly to find signs of one of the boys being there but they aren’t. Rushing up the flight of stairs you find an open space with a few tables of a few weapons. You walk to one and grab a pistol. You check for bullets which thankfully it has a few.

You never learned to handle one before which leads you to grabbing a knife from there too. Once you look over your weapons, you hear a large thud coming from upstairs and grunting.

“Marc” You breath out and sprint up the stairs.

All that adrenaline begins to spread through your body. That is until you get to the top of the stairs.

The scene is horrifying. Your eyes widen and you feel the world go quiet, only your heartbeat can be heard banging through your ears. At first you thought it was your pulse going crazy.

Thud

It was just your pulse.

Thud

It was your pulse, thats what you kept telling yourself.

Thud

Marc received another blow to the head. He was helpless. He could only lie on his stomach and let blood drain from his nose and mouth. His left eye was purple and swollen. Red had now stained his dark brown curls.

All of this pain inflicting on him was coming from the red haired woman. Vanessa.

You're enraged, and you swear you see red. You point the gun at her, ready to fire, when one of the members notices you and tries to take the gun from you. You two fall to the ground while attempting, causing the gun to skid across the floor. You pull out your knife before he can get up. You swing it at the man horizontally. Making a cut at his neck.

Unfortunately, it is not deep enough.

When the other two members notice your presence, they tackle you. You try to push them off with all your strength, but they pin your arms behind your back. Their weight crushes you, causing your cheek to collide with the cold floor.

“Get the fuck off me!” You yell out.

The man who you cut wipes the blood off and glares at you. He immediately rushes to you and begins to kick you in your stomach, calling you a ‘bitch’. Before he can do more damage, another member holds him back.

“Hey! Hey! Thats enough!” Says the man as he tries to keep his friend from beating you.

You don’t care about the man though. All your attention is on the redhead. You have never felt so much anger as you do right now.

“You’re going to fucking die!” You growl.

She looks at you and cocks her head to the side, “It’s you from before”

You continue to glare at her before two other people come in. One man and one woman, they look at the scene before continuing on with Vanessa.

“Who’s that?” The man points at you.

The woman then adds, “How are they here? Why weren’t you on watch?”

The one with the cut on his neck yells, “I didn’t know he’d bring someone else!”

“Well thats enough, it won’t take long until people report a noise complaint” the man looks at Vannessa.

“You want what I want, right?” She grips the base of the bat as she stares at the man.

The man stays quiet and just says, “End it. Now”

Realizing what they said, you stop resisting and look over to Marc’s body. You look at him with pleading eyes and beg, “Guys, get up. Get up!”

Even though they are badly hurt, you can see the small shift between Steven and Jake. Jake, who tries to move but fails. Steven, who tries to reach out to you but can’t.

They soon give control to Marc. He tries his best to open his eyes and looks over at you. He mumbles your name, you’re the only thing he focuses on once again.

“Marc, fucking get up!” Your voice cracks.

You look back at Vanessa and now beg, “Please stop!”

She ignores you and winds her arm back, having a tight grip on the bat.

“Please don’t do this…” you sob, “Marc, please get up!”

Vanessa then brings the bat down and smashes it against Marc’s skull. Blood spilling more than there was.

“Nooo!” You yell out feeling your throat burn from forcing your vocal cords.

You sob as you stare at Marc’s lifeless body. The man who loved and protected you was no longer here. He was gone.

One of the members walk up to his body and spit on him, wishing him to be in hell. That same anger from before comes back up and you try to get up.

“I'll fucking kill you!” You keep repeating to them.

The members of the group began debating whether or not to kill you. However, as you stare at Marc, all of their voices become muffled. Your gaze then shifts to Vanessa, who drops the bat and turns to face you.

You remember her features. In fact, all of their features. Memorize them so they don't believe they are free. Keep them close by memorizing them. Remember them for Marc. Remember them for Steven. Remember them for Jake. It's for them.

You breathe heavily before one member comes to you and kicks you in the head to knock you out.

“Y/N” Layla softly calls out to you, shaking your body awake.

She is wearing her suit given to her by Tawaret. She was too late though.

You open your eyes slowly and mumble, “Are they…”

Layla looks down and nods, “I’m sorry”

Back at the apartment, you stayed sitting on their bed. What once used to be their bed. The sheets are still undone and you can still see where their head lay. They would have done the bed by now. There would be food being cooked right now. Instead, it was their funeral.

You fidget with the Star of David necklace that used to be theirs. Looking at it, remembering how it sat around their neck.

A knock comes from the door but you don’t try to get up. Usually it was one of them knocking, usually because they forgot their keys or wallet. But they aren’t here. The door didn’t matter.

It opens, and you can hear hesitant steps approaching you. Layla can be recognised by her heels clicking on the wooden floors. "Are you ready?" she asks, holding both hands over her stomach as she turns to face you.

Her voice is almost a whisper. She must have been crying all night.

“Yeah…” You look up at her and see you were right.

Her eyes were red and her face tear stained. Yet she tried to keep her composure for you. She wore a black slim dress with black heels. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail.

For you, all you had on was a black jacket, shirt, and jeans with black boots.

You two made your way outside the building to a taxi. Layla spoke to the driver while you remained silent and gazed out the window. You were numb because the world seemed numb to you.

Soon enough you got to the cemetery and saw a few people there. Not family but more of colleagues from his Egyptian work it seemed. You and Layla stayed close to his grave, watching as his coffin lowered inside. All you could do was think about his beaten face inside that coffin.

Once buried, everyone quickly left except you. You remained motionless, staring at the tombstone. You got down on your knees, grabbed a small pebble, and placed it on top of the stone, following a Jewish tradition you'd learned beforehand.

“I'm so sorry, I should have said that earlier. If only I did” you croaked.

After bidding farewell to last guests, Layla walked up behind you and put a hand on your shoulder, “When your ready”

"Um, I'll catch up to you. I just need more time," you say, looking up at her.

Layla gives a tight smile and nods, “Okay." She walks away, her steps fading away.

You breath out, seeing your breath in the cold. Your fingers were frozen but you didn’t care. As expected, you feel the wind pass by you. Knowing who it was, you didn’t bother in looking up.

“I am sorry for your loss, Y/N” Khonshu gently says.

You don’t say anything and continue to stare at Marc’s carved name on the tombstone. Khonshu doesn’t find it surprising and understands.

He thinks before he says, “As you humans say, they are no longer suffering here-”

“I want to go look for them.” You don’t look up at him when you say it. You grab a handful of dirt from the ground and slowly release it back down.

Khonshu, surprised, responds, "It's dangerous, they wouldn't want you to go alone"

"I know they wouldn't want me to, but I want to. Are you going to help me?" You take a step forward and look at him. He looks into your eyes and sees the revenge burning within your irises.

He stays quiet, which you take as a no. “Fine, I’ll do it by myself”

You clench your fist and look down at the grave. Marc's death plays over and over in your mind. Each face flashes through your mind, and you consider how each one aided in his death. How you begged them to stop.

“I’m going to kill, every last one of them”

---

Anyways, wasn't that cool? :D

Also, I know the argument between the reader and Marc was dumb but you try coming up with an argument that isn't cliche or one that would be reasonable for you to get mad at. It was for the plot is what I'm trying to say.

If yall want me to write a happy ending to it let me know or don't idk

#marc spector x reader #marvel #marc spector #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #platonic #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant x teen!reader #moon knight x teen!reader #layla x teen!reader #x teen!reader #angst #moon knight angst #the last of us #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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symphonyofsilence · 9 months

Text

Do you ever think about Immortal ghosts and gods, being traumatized sons of long-gone fathers still?

Do you ever think about Qi Rong, the son of an abusive man seeing a child mistreated by his father and deciding to adopt the child? Qi Rong who was born and for some time raised in a Doghouse-like Shack and his life was turned around when his mother ran away from his father and took him to the palace promising his son that he was going to take him to live in big, beautiful mansions? Qi Rong who was looked down upon by everyone, even by the person he considered a god in the heavens before he even ascended, who was the only one who was kind to him and stood up for him when everyone else was bullying him and his mother in his first exposure to the outside world, Qi Rong who got little respect even as a ghost king, Qi Rong who was insecure as someone who was looked down upon by upper-class children because of his commoner Yan'An-born father, who called Feng Xin & Mu Qing shitty low-lives, who had no regards for commoners and abused the poor lower-class child that was Honhong-er, THAT Qi Rong adopting a commoner child and doing his best to look the best and the mightiest and the most respected in the eyes of his son, not caring if everyone else didn't respect him? And succeeding (in something that the King of Xianle didn't succeed in) as one of the last things we hear of Gu Zi is that he says that his dad can't die because he's told him that he has cultivated to be the king of the three realms or something. Because even if Gu Zi didn't know what the king of the three realms was, it was something that his father was. So it must have been quite a powerful, mighty thing to be? Do you ever think about Qi Rong whose last words, when being asked "What do you have to be held in high regard?" was "SO WHAT IF YOU ALL LOOK DOWN ON ME? THIS ANCESTOR...THIS ANCESTOR...THIS ANCESTOR HAS A SON!"

Do you ever think about Mu Qing, whose earliest experience of law and Justice was his father being beheaded, and then his teacher who wouldn't even accept him as his disciple due to Mu Qing being poor and the son of an executed man, never lifting a finger to stop the relentless bullying he got by rich kids but being more than willing to kick him out if he stood up for himself, and in one memorable occasion accused Mu Qing of "intentionally withholding communication" without even hearing him out first while "his [Mei Nianqing's] words and expression showed he already firmly believed Mu Qing to be sabotaging the affair purposely", (And then didn't apologize to him when his accusations turned out to be false. And while MNQ was so quick to accuse him, apparently hours of nimbly & skillfully carrying a 9 ft Zhanmaodo that a group of people together couldn't pull out of a wall wasn't impressive enough for him to give Mu Qing so much as a nod of approval. He couldn't even just not disagree when the queen praised Mu Qing and compared him to Feng Xin who at 14 was already good enough at martial art to be selected as the bodyguard of the crown prince while MQ only started cultivating at 14 but caught up to FX in 3 years.) still, even as the Martial God of the Southwest with seven thousand temples dedicated to him fully believing that unless he takes matters into his own hands he won't receive any justice? (And note how he thinks if he stays and waits for trial he will face "death" even though as far as we know there's no mention of any god being sentenced to death, at worst even with a kill count as impressive as Pei Su they get sentenced to banishment)? And of how his story constantly revolves around him being accused of crimes he didn't commit from start to finish? As he's introduced to the audience as someone who left Xie Lian behind as soon as Xie Lian got banished and treats Xie Lian with contempt even though he owed everything to him, as he's accused of intentionally withholding communication to sabotage the Shangyuan festival as a 17-year-old, as he's thought to have left Xie Lian & Feng Xin behind and teamed up with the other junior officials against Xie Lian, as Xie Lian second-guesses his intentions when Mu Qing brings him medicine, as he's first suspected of being the father of Cuo Cuo and then the culprit behind Jian Lan's forced abortion, as he's accused of trying to murder Feng Xin when everyone was evacuating the Heavenly Capital, as he's accused of conspiring with Jun Wu against Xie Lian. Despite how he was the only Heavenly official with a totally clean record with nothing to be used against him by Jun Wu and every time anyone suspects him of anything he has actually been doing good because he's a good, kind-hearted person. Do you ever think about how in the end he did end up with cursed shackles but got them voluntarily? Of how Mu Qing who was so sensitive to being accused that he would break a broom and run away when hearing Feng Xin's comment on how they couldn't invite too many people to search for the coral earring, and valued his hard-earned cultivation and statues so much, and his good deeds would always backfire in his face so bad that he believed "truly, there is no point in being a good person" but would still continue to try to do good without expecting anything in return, knowing that Jun Wu would try to frame him and paint him as a traitor every step of the way, and believing what Jun Wu had said about his friends being unwilling to believe him because they hated him, still decided to go to Mt. Tonglu to search for Feng Xin and stayed true to himself and his friends and did the right thing? and in the end, a hand reached out to him just before his fall. Because Xie Lian believed in him all along and sometimes just one person believing in you is enough. because as Xie Lian once said "I don't believe that good will brings bad returns." in the end the cursed shackles broke once and for all.

DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT IMMORTAL GHOSTS AND GODS BEING THE TRAUMATISED SONS OF LONG-GONE FATHERS STILL?!

#I NEED TO KNOW THAT QI RONG GOT HIS CORPOREAL FORM BACK WHILE GU ZI WAS STILL A YOUNG CHILD SO HE CAN RAISE HIM AND WATCH HIS KID GROW UP #AND LIL PRECIOUS GU ZI WILL HAVE HIS DAD WITH HIM!#also everybody owes Mu Qing an apology. especially Mei Nianqing & Feng Xin.#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hob #tian guan ci fu #mxtx #qi rong #mu qing #xuan zhen #gu zi #xie lian #feng xin #my two cents #tgcf meta

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quietlyimplode · 6 months

Text

the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: Day 30 - borrowed clothing

Warnings: (Christmas?)

Word Count: 3.7k (a long one friends) (Gifs not mine)

Summary: Christmas at the avengers tower

A/N: Please be kind to your fic writers. We are doing our best. Your words and comments mean so much. So if you enjoy it let us know (if you didn’t keep scrolling). One to go after this. <3 <3 thanks for being on the whumptober journey.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

2014

NEW YORK

CHRISTMAS

Natasha eyes the Christmas tree. Everyone was asleep, she’s sure of it.

She holds off on asking Jarvis, instead tuning into the cadence and quietness of the house.

It’s Christmas.

She knows the presents inside carry things inside them, but she’s taken back to the night in Ohio and compulsively picks one up to shake it.

It rattles and she feels her breath slow.

It’s not Santa, but Tony is just as good as.

There’s a tiny package wrapped in newspaper, her name written on it with a black marker.

She’s sure it’s from Yelena.

She even thinks she knows what it is.

“Come to bed,” she hears, and Clint stands in the doorway, his hair disheveled and face tired.

Natasha pads towards him.

“I got you something,” he says, pulling her close, “and now it’s Christmas, can I tell you what it is?”

Natasha nods.

“Only if I can give you something?” she replies.

Clint disappears, and Natasha finds the package she had wrapped in paper.

“You go first,” she says quietly.

“What are you doing on the 27th?” he asks, laying down and pulling her down next to him.

“I don’t know? Did Fury give us a mission? Do we need..”

He puts a hand to her lips and then reaches into his pocket.

“Nah, but we may be getting married,” he proposes.

Natasha’s heart stops as she eyes the rings.

One has a tiny arrow, and the other has a tiny hourglass engraved.the rings they had decided on months ago, she had completely forgotten about.

“What?”

Her voice gets caught in her throat.

She’d all but given up on the idea that they would ever be able to. The hope she had all gone and the presentation of the rings brought it back as a flush.

“We’ve organised most of it, Pepper and I, but she’ll need to talk to you tomorrow or the day after, just around how you want it to go…”

Natasha flings her arms around him.

“What— hey,” he laughs,

“We’re getting married?” she asks.

He nods, a tear pricking in the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” he tells her.

“Let’s get married.”

The food is what Steve feels he is drawn to. The Christmas meal has him sitting in the kitchen as he works alongside Pepper and Bruce to cook potatoes and green vegetables.

The two turkeys cooking smell so soothing that he keeps looking to the ovens to check it’s not just a sense memory.

They never had turkey, but they did have chickens his neighbor killed and gave them some of - a Christmas gift to the family.

In return, Steve’s mother had darned all their clothes to look presentable at church.

He smiles at the memory.

The community felt like the tower in this moment as he sets the table and hears Clint and Natasha talking and an heated conversation between Tony and Yelena about something he has absolutely no idea about.

He lays the last piece of cutlery down.

The man - Gus, Clint’s friend approaches him.

“Hello,” he greets with a friendly smile.

Maria wanders over to Pepper and Bruce and Gus sits down with a groan.

“Hello,” Steve replies.

“I keep trying to help, but everyone tells me to sit down,” Gus tells him, unprompted.

Steve nods.

“I think they have it covered,” he tells him, looking around, “would you want to come sit with me? Maybe you can tell me how you know Clint?”

Gus laughs.

“That’s a long story, did you know I taught him the magic he knows?”

Steve looks at him intrigued.

“Magic?”

Gus nods, then pulls two coins from Steve’s ear.

Delighted, Steve takes them and gestures to a seat near where Clint and Natasha are talking.

“Will you teach me how to do that?”

Bruce looks over to Pepper, feeling nostalgic cooking with someone else.

“Did you know in Kolkata there is a dessert that they’re famous for?”

Pepper looks up intrigued.

“Sandesh,” he smiles, the memory strong of the sweet treat.

“We would eat it all together sitting on the floor, telling stories. More so on special occasions, but it’s times like those become memories, you know?”

Pepper smiles and places her hand on his.

“What did you like doing in Kolkata?”

The conversation flows easily, he’s never spoke a lot about his time there, but as he chats and laughs to Pepper, then as Maria joins in too; Bruce takes a moment and enjoys the feeling of happiness.

He knows it doesn’t come often, and likes to take stock when it does.

Bruce looks to Tony who holds a drink up in acknowledgment, and he nods back with a smile.

The man who made this all possible.

A man who, didn’t seem to judge Bruce on his alter ego- rather he embraced it. He had no context for this friendship. These relationships and community that surrounds him.

Pepper taps him on the back and hands him a plate of potatoes, then together they begin to set the food out.

Maria spent time in Japan in her first rotation in the military. She remembers some of it, but the food, god the food she remembers the most.

She doesn’t remember having this conversation with Tony, that rice balls and ramen were her favourite foods but they sit in front of her on the table alongside a host of other foods, some that Pepper and Bruce prepared and others that had been catered.

The others slowly gather, taking their seats at the round table.

Tony and Pepper sit side by side, Bruce sits next to Tony, Steve on Bruce’s other side.

Maria watches as Natasha smiles, a rare sight. Holding her sister’s hand, almost dragging her to sit down, next to Steve, then Clint sits her on her other side.

Gus, the older man, who liked a chat, and brought a bit of magic to the table pulls out a chair for a Maria and nods to the food.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

Maria smiles.

“I hope everyone is hungry.”

Tony stands once everyone is seated, holding his glass up and commanding attention as he so often does.

“I didn’t want to do this,” he opens, “given the attack, the… mission and everything that’s happened in the last month, it didn’t feel right to be celebrating.”

He looks down to Pepper.

Maria sees, when she really looks at Tony, the scared man that just wants to do right by his people. They were wrong to accept Ironman onto the Avengers and not Tony initially.

“It still doesn’t.”

Everyone looks somber, and Natasha holds his gaze.

“But where better to be than together?”

He shrugs with his one good arm.

“We aren’t alone in this.”

He sighs, “I’m glad we are all here and together, and I’m grateful for the company.”

Maria knows the truth under the words, and everyone nods in agreement.

He smiles, a fake one, Maria thinks.

“Let’s eat,” he announces, sitting back down and handing Pepper the broccoli.

Gus hadn’t known that there'd be so many people here when he’d agreed. He’d tried to back out, stay elsewhere but Clint had insisted that he stay.

He feels he owes the child more than he knows.

The blow of his brother being dead had brought them closer together but it had clearly been at a cost.

He sees Clint, and is proud of him, and from the others stories tell, the people here in the tower see his goodness and strength of his character.

Clint moves away to talk to Bruce, leaving Gus leaning back wondering when he’d last eaten so much.

“He wants to give you something,” Natasha tells him, coming up behind him and sitting on the chair’s arm.

“The watch, he kept it safe,” she nods.

Handing him a drink, Gus looks up at her; Clint’s fiancé and smiles.

She seems so normal… despite the obvious.

He’s glad of it, though

Nothing like Edith, and nothing like Howard.

Someone… different.

She smiles easily and he feels immediately at ease as she continues.

“He told me what you did for him when he was little,” Natasha pauses, “I know it’s not my place, but I want to thank you for it. You became a safe person in a place of uncertainty and it saved him, and without you he wouldn’t be here with me.”

Gus takes her hand and kisses it.

“You credit me with too much,” he comments lightly.

“The only person that saved Clint was himself. If I had a small part to play in his life, then I’m glad for it.”

“The watch, it was given to me when I needed it. For Clint, he was always so fascinated with the story.”

Natasha laughs easily.

“It can’t be true, that story? The one you told Clint about the watch? Is it?”

Gus nods.

“Of course! Shall I tell you my version and not Clint’s abridged version?”

Natasha sits fully in the chair listening to him as he launches into the story.

It’s nice, Gus thinks, to be around people.

After dinner, before presents, Pepper pulls Natasha aside.

“Can I show you something?” she asks, looking nervous.

Natasha feels the nerves but still follows Pepper into the tower, with a small look back to check on Yelena.

She’s talking with Clint and Natasha feels better that she’s not alone.

Pepper leads her into a room, a large one that Natasha hadn’t been before, painted a soft blue. Clearly, they had been staying in this room and not on their floor which was, perhaps; still being repaired.

There’s a large bag that looks suspiciously like it’s covering a dress.

Pepper notices Natasha looking, and pauses in front of it.

She lets her actions speak louder and unzips it to reveal a wedding dress, lacy and white.

“It’s beautiful,” Natasha says softly.

Pepper swallows.

“My mother, uh. My mother is dead,” she opens. Natasha had known this, but had never pried, Pepper had never seemed to want to talk about it and the subject of mothers was one Natasha felt was personal.

“She married my father, they were married til she died. She made this dress.”

Pepper swallows and brings the dress down. Gently she touches the intricacies of the lace and the way it blends into the skirting.

“I wasn’t sure if you had a dress, but if you want to, it’s yours to wear,” she offers.

Natasha’s stomach bottoms out, the generosity not lost.

“What?”

Pepper nods.

“It served her well, I want it to serve you well too,” she nods, holding it up and holding it to her.

“I think it will fit, but tomorrow… if not the dressmaker can make any alterations you need.”

Natasha starts shaking her head. It’s too much, too much to repay.

“No, I can’t, what about you? Don’t you want to wear it? Don’t you—“

Pepper holds up her hand.

“What better honor to share a dress with someone I know and love?”

In that moment, Natasha feels the tears and moves to hug Pepper.

“Do you want to try it on?” Pepper asks in the hug. Wordlessly, Natasha nods.

Taking the dress, Pepper points to the ensuite.

It takes a moment, before she exits.

“You look beautiful,” Pepper breathes.

She steps around, and pushes Natasha to a mirror.

Natasha can feel her gaze, burning directly.

“You can ask,” she tells Pepper quietly.

“Do I want to know?”

Pepper looks scars that moves from Natasha’s back, to her ribs; the four gashes gnarled but white and old.

“You can know.”

Natasha turns in the mirror and reaches across to touch them.

“Was it… was it from the Red Room?” Pepper asks tentatively.

Shaking her head, Natasha turns.

“The Red Room knew how to remove scaring, anything to make us perfect and unblemished.”

She touches the closest one.

“Clint and I were on a mission in Bucharest, we got captured by a militant group that enjoyed using whips as torture. When they saw how much it affected Clint when they touched me, well..” she pauses.

“It looks a lot worse than it was, and Coulson came for us. It’s just that those four were the deepest. There’s probably something they can do to fix it, just like the red room used to, but I don’t mind them.”

Pepper hugs her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers

Natasha smiles.

“Don’t be, I’m not. I like my scars.”

Taking one last look at herself in a wedding dress, she swallows and leaves to get changed.

“You’ll wear it?” Pepper asks, taking the dress and hanging it back up

Natasha nods.

“Only if you’re sure.”

The laugh that breaks from Pepper is one of joy, and she links arms with Natasha and leads her back to the others.

He wishes it were different. Not the intense sense of dread that has been with him since the tower.

Pepper had helped, the movement of tower, how she’d moved things around so that it wasn’t the same.

The small differences that made it so he knew it was his home but also enough that it wasn’t the place that hydra infiltrated.

He didn’t want them here, but he’s glad they are.

He didn’t realise how much he valued his friends.

Adjusting his sling, he grows annoyed and takes it off.

He wonders just how hard it would be to build a motorised arm, and creates a schematic in his head as he watches everyone eat.

He wanted this.

He’s glad for this.

The people milling around him.

Pepper sees him, and even as she talks to Steve, she smiles at him; and despite the sorrow that pulls at him he smiles back.

Bruce hands him some water, and then his sling.

“You should be wearing this you know?” His friend berates.

“Got annoying,” Tony responds.

“It’s okay, you know? To fake it?”

Tony looks across.

“What?”

Bruce points to the mountain of presents and then gestures to the tower.

“Sometimes, faking it helps us to reset and allow others in so we can talk about what really matters and how we really feel.”

Tony looks down.

He doesn’t want to ruin anyone else’s Christmas with his sadness. And he supposes that it is sadness.

He’d usually just drink, but he’d promised Pepper to do better with that.

Be better.

So here he sits.

“The tower is your home,” Bruce continues; “and we all know what it means to you, to all of us.”

Bruce looks intently at him, like the next words are the ones that matter.

“I’m sorry they hurt it,” he says and the words hit deep.

“It’s silly,” Tony mumbles.

“Nah,” Bruce replies, “it’s not. Why do you think we have all worked so hard to be here? It’s our place too.”

It shouldn’t mean anything to Tony, but it does.

He watches Pepper and then Natasha and her sister.

The acknowledgment makes his heart slightly lighter. All the decoration and work Pepper had put into making this day what it was, brings him out.

It matters, not just to him but to everyone around him.

The abundance is phenomenal.

Yelena takes a moment to absorb it all as she wants into the room. The tree and presents, the meal, the people. She watches as Natasha smiles easily, holds her drink and easily talks to those around her.

Only having talked to Tony and Clint, she stays more to the side, watching the others.

She doesn’t know what it is but breathing becomes difficult, she takes a step out, the balcony providing shock of fresh air.

She doesn’t belong here, amongst her sisters friends.

It’s too much.

The day has been too nice.

Everything too much.

She doesn’t deserve this.

The thought perseverates in her head.

Looking out over the skyline of New York, she feels sick and her vision blurs.

She feels a body at her side, of course Natasha knows.

“I don’t deserve this,” she says with belief; not wanting to look back at the abundance of food and gifts.

“I don’t…” she gasps, feeling Natasha hand grasp hers.

The hand drags her down to sit on the cold concrete.

It’s slightly a shock.

“I’ve done bad things,” she tells her sister.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, instead she pulls her close, arm around her and rocks her gently.

“Breathe,” she says quietly.

“After all it’s..”

“The secret to life,” Yelena finishes.

The old saying from the martial arts instructor, who seemingly never left the Red Room, does help to slow her breath.

Being held by Natasha on the roof of a tower in the middle of New York in America seems so surreal.

Maybe that’s the point if it.

“You’re exactly where you need to be,” Natasha tells her, hugging her closer.

“It doesn’t matter what’s come before, all that matters is now. Okay?”

It takes a second, but Yelena nods.

The moment is what matters.

She doesn’t deserve this abundance.

But she knows, she’ll likely never have it again.

The moment is what matters.

“Hello, old men,” Clint goads at Steve and Gus, laughing as they both frown.

“I’m not old,” Gus says indignantly, “and this man must be…”

Steve holds his hand out.

“I’m 94, theoretically, “ he laughs,

Gus looks aghast.

“It’s a super soldier thing,” Steve clarifies and Gus looks to Clint.

Clint nods, laughs, and passes two beers across, that both take gratefully.

“Come on, we’re going to open presents.”

Gus stands, “I didn’t bring anything?” he grumbles.

Clint clasps him on the shoulder.

“That’s because we said just yourself, now come,” he ushers pushing them toward the great room.

There’s more presents than there were last night, Clint is sure. Tony stands dramatically at the balcony on the stairs with a fake bead and a Santa costume tailored to his body, and claps.

It takes a moment but everyone looks, and Tony looks smug.

“They’re colour coded,” he says happily, “so find a present and pass it around.”

As it turns out, Clint gets passed the purple presents and Natasha shrugs as she’s passed the red ones.

He watches Yelena get surprised with blue ones, and Maria with orange.

Bruce’s are predictable green, whilst Gus’ are yellow and Peppers are gold and shiny.

Clint wants to hold this memory.

Remember it forever as he watches his friends smiling and laughing.

He looks Tony who had descended the stairs and helped pass out the presents.

The presents that aren’t colour coded take a few more minutes, but no one goes without, as everyone starts to open them.

Tony’s pile of presents is not colour coordinated, he didn’t bother to get anything for himself, but the presents that sit in front of him are perhaps more sentimental because of this.

Clint sits back, wanting to just watch.

He’s happy.

Despite the trauma of the last week, the frustration of losing the sceptre, he watches his friends; his family smile and laugh.

Natasha sits next to Yelena.

The tiny package in hand and she passes it across.

He watches as Yelena opens it, and freezes.

He thinks she’s overcome with emotion as her bottom lip turns up, and she looks to Natasha for assurance.

The little photo frame with both of them as children sitting in it.

Natasha then shows her its matching pair, one for each of them.

It was an idea she thought of as she looked carefully at the pictures.

It was his turn he supposed.

He turns to Gus opening a present of engraved playing cards, the man looks delighted

Clint holds out his own.

“Open this next,” he prompts.

Gus looks at Clint and looks to the present.

“I think I know what it is,” he says, taking it from Clint and opening it carefully.

“This watch,” he says slowly, “is not mine any more, it’s yours.”

Clint shrugs.

“I said I’d get it back to you?”

He promised, and a Barton always keeps his promises. This one anyway.

“Fine, but you have to wear it one more time, okay? Something borrowed.”

Clint laughs and nods, then hands him another present.

“This one next? It’s from Natasha,” he smiles.

Gus looks slightly overwhelmed, and takes the gift from Clint.

It seems it’s not the only photo frame she’d had made up.

The picture of Gus, Clint and Barney standing under the big top with them all looking serious, gives him pause.

“How did she—“

Clint smiles at his joy.

“I think these things are a lot easier when you know technology and have some super computers behind it,” he admits.

“I’ve got to thank her,” Gus says, standing and leaving Clint to look on.

As far as Christmas’ go, he’s glad for the memories of this one.

Natasha watches Tony, worried at how pensive he looks.

He leaves for the balcony and she follows him.

The others seem to mull around them, some cleaning in the kitchen, other sleeping on the couch.

Steve plays with his new iPod, sitting with Maria and together loading songs into it.

She doesn’t know why but the scene makes her smile.

She catches eyes with Clint who sits close to Yelena, both of them throwing Yelena’s new throwing knives at a target, with Yelena growing more frustrated at Clint’s inability to miss.

She nods and he smiles and grabs a blanket as she steps into the cold.

He turns to her and nods.

Sometimes things don’t need words.

Sometimes it’s about those who have lived lifetimes with you.

She wraps the blanket around them both, sitting on the swinging chair and listen to the sounds of the other and sounds of New York.

“We’ll get them, you know?” she promises.

“Yeah,” Tony says quietly.

“Merry Christmas Tony.”

“Merry Christmas, Nat.”

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bubuslutty · 10 months

Text

The adventures of an ex-mercenary, avatar, cab driver and ex-gift shopist & his university student friend and neighbour!

part of the "I'm friends with the moon" au & can be read as stand-alone

pairing: platonic moon boys x fem!reader

word count: 582

tags: 3rd pov, she/her pronouns, reader insert, no descriptions of physical appearance, no beta read so all mistakes r mine

warnings: none

summary: my own hcs of some snippets of the life of the moon boys with their chaotic neighbour 💙

When Steven ends up telling her how everything happened, and I mean everything from season 1. At the end of it, reader’s eyes are red, her nose is runny and she has snot running down her nose, her hair is sticking in every direction and she has her head between her hands while rocking against the wall. Basically, she falls into a mini depressive episode that lasts 2-3 days.

“What the fuck, guys??”

☆

When reader finds out about everything that has happened, she also learns about Khonshu. And she gets freaked out big time when she’s hanging out with Marc, sitting on a chair next to the tank, watching Gus swim, (well, Gus 2.0 as well, really) there’s a gust of wind that comes out of nowhere and she screams and runs to Marc, “What was that?? What was that??? Marc?? Marc-” and she has to stand there, watching him glare at something invisible in the middle of Steven’s flat while she’s almost pissing herself.

☆

For a few weeks, any gust of wind makes her jump and she screams when she feels cold air hit her feet and runs out to her flat, banging on Steven’s door which he opens, obviously worried, and she tells him Khonshu’s in her flat and he has to assure her it was just the wind because if it was, he would have felt his presence.

☆

Khonshu doesn’t often appear when she’s around, but when he does, she curses at him, “You lying CUNT!” and Marc has to watch her trying to fight nothing (literal air) while Khonshu’s watching her from the other side of the room, the side she wasn’t standing in. "Is this woman mad?"

"Don't talk to my friend like that."

"So you have friends now?"

☆

Once, reader suspects she has a rat in her flat and freaks out and runs to get a strong and capable man to get rid of it, aka one of her neighbours. And it happens that Jake was fronting that day and she tells him she heard a tiny squeak and she thinks there’s a rat somewhere in her flat. And Jake says, “don’t worry, I gotcha.”

And mr. mustache and fat ass pulls a gun in the middle of her flat and reader grabs onto the wall and her boob, trying to calm her heart so she wouldn’t die of a heart attack at such young age, heck she hasn’t even seen BTS in a concert yet, it’s too early to die!

now imagine reader screaming and jake chasing a rat while pointing his gun at the rodent with a crazy grin on his face.

"DON'T KILL IT! DONT KILL IT!" reader is screaming, and jake screams back, "WHY DID YOU CALL ME THEN?

☆

When reader gets into something new and obsesses over it, she shows up to their door and knocks on it, basically like, “Excuse me sir, do you have time to talk about our Lord and Saviour, Jesus christ?”

And if marc happens to be fronting and is in his edgy feels, he shouts at her to “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Marcie pooh, let me tell you about the lore of this band I like!” She says like a villain, trying to share their very evil plan.

“NO!”

“Come on, let me iiinnnn! Please, Marc!” She says, trying to squeeze her arm through the crack between the door and doorframe.

But not only she likes to annoy them (sometimes) in waking, but also when she's supposed to be sleeping, when THEY'RE ALL SUPPOSED TO BE SLEEPING

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @bobastayhigh @weblesstherains @h-leigh @unspokenmoon @ahookedheroespureheart @thursdaywritings @gebstargeb @softieekayy @fem-moony @peachjellypackets @pakhiya

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obsidiancreates · 3 months

Text

One Undead To Another (Chapter 11)

Gus sleeps for most of the day, and when he wakes up he immediately calls Father Wesley.

“Gus! What a surprise, how’re you doing?”

“I’m uh… yeah, anyway.”

“Oh. That bad?”

“Father, what do you know about vampires? Specifically how to proof a home against them?”

“Vampires? I’m afraid I’m less versed in vampires than demons, my boy. For one thing, demons are real.”

“Well… how would I keep a demon that acts like a vampire out of my house?”

“Rephrasing it doesn’t change my sphere of knowledge, Gus. However, I would generally advise keeping holy items very near your person. Do you have anything like a rosary necklace?”

“No. I’ll look for one online.”

“Good, good. Now, if you’re truly convinced an unholy creature is out for you, I also advise keeping a bible in every room, and staying far away from any demonic or occult activity or items.”

“Way ahead of you. … Kind of.”

“What else, ahum… I can bless a bottle of water for you over the phone.”

“That works?”

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t.”

“Alright, holy water… now, do you know where to get bedsheets with crosses all over them?”

“Not personally… but I know several of the students here at the university have asked during confession if sleeping on bedsheets with Jesus’s face on them is a sin, so I believe you’ll find what you need online or in specialty shops.”

“Great. Now, let’s talk about the ethics of using bible pages as wallpaper.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“God.” Shawn waits. Nothing.

“Oh my go-” Immediate coughing, ash puffing out as he tries to cover his mouth.

“Okay,” he wheezes. He picks up the receipt, his own handwriting now following Gus’s as he adds to the list. He adds Can’t claim God to it. Good thing he doesn’t believe in God anyway. Should he? Probably not. Is Gus going to keep believing in God after all this? The vampire thing is kind of confirming his existence, but the psychic thing is negating it, so… what’s even the deal there?

“Any chance anyone wants to clear that up for me?”

No vision, voices, or Feelings.

“Great. Well, my throat is just about shot.” More than, actually– he’s pretty sure it’s bleeding from how dry it is, especially now. “Any chance I can receive a little divine guidance on how to not kill people and get some blood at the same time? Blood bank doesn’t count, that’s a cop-out and a cliche.”

“... Come on. Give me something to work with. I’m not– I’m not used to being this… this lost, okay? I…”

Died. Made a bad decision, got into a bad situation, and died. No clever last-minute saves, no stalling until Lassie and Jules got there, no sitting in The Blueberry knowing he would store the incident away as Another Fun Anecdote.

He died.

And now he could hurt the people he loves most. And he’s always been reckless, and impulsive, and inconsiderate of consequence, and it’s gotten his loved ones into trouble in the past, but now that trouble is him and it feels…

… It actually feels worryingly normal, just… more present. The little twist, whisper, condemnation in the back of his head whenever something went horribly wrong and everyone else paid for it is stronger now. And that means he should start really listening to it.

But it’s all he’s listening to, apparently. He scoffs. “Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.

He gets on his bike and heads for the Psych office. Sure, he could do his research at home, but he always works better in the office anyway.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Juliet wakes up, the first thing she does is call her partner.

“O’Hara?”

“Carlton, how much do either of us know about vampires?”

“I read Dracula once in highschool.”

“That’s what I was afraid of… we’re going to need to either do our own research, or rely on Gus to direct us how to handle this.”

“Way ahead of you, O’Hara.”

“... How?”

“I called McNab to tell him to look for any preserved journals or personal items in the remains of that mansion. By the way, apparently Spencer told the whole department we’re sick.”

“Oh my god, that’s right, he went down there. Did Buzz say anything? Did Shawn act… okay?”

“He said Spencer kept his motorcycle helmet on the whole time and sounded like someone took a sander to his throat.”

“Buzz said that.”

“Well… I’m paraphrasing.”

“Right. Okay, well, hopefully Buzz finds something for us. But we should make a plan for if he doesn’t.”

“How? The only source of information we can actually consider even moderately reliable is whatever that cult left behind.”

“Well, I’m about ninety percent sure that as soon as Gus vampire-proofs his house, he and Shawn will start doing incredibly stupid and dangerous experiments to test what’s real and what’s not.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“We’ll have to offer to help.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Today of all days,” Chief Vick mutters, sorting through files to make room for the one coming in later. “Henry, I know this isn’t exactly in your job description but–”

“I’ll visit the scene, Karen.”

“Thank you. With your son and both of my best detectives out today, we may as well be looking at a cold case without your help. Now, the house burned down is the same one they all visited in connection with the three murders from earlier this week. Lassiter and O’Hara had dismissed the residents as suspects, but in my opinion this feels like some kind of act of revenge. We’ve got a reported six bodies, all burnt to nothing but ash and bones.”

“Ash and bones, huh?” Henry seems to mull something over in his head, pursing his lips and nodding. “Any witness reports?”

“None, it’s a secluded area. Even the road leading up to the driveway is practically abandoned.”

“Why would anyone live in an area like that?”

“Your son thought it was because the group staying there weren’t planning on sticking around for long.”

“Because of the murders.”

“Precisely. You know, I have to say I didn’t understand Lassiter and O’Hara’s hunches, on this one. I think your son was onto something. I I want you keeping an eye out for signs of other foul play while you’re there, anything that suggests these investors weren’t being honest, about their intentions for visiting.”

“Nothing suspicious slips by me, Karen. You know that.”

“Good. Now get going.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

McNab picks over the remains of the basement, eyes wide as he pulls out another horror-movie style wiggle-bladed dagger. “Detective Lassiter is going to be really upset he’s missing out on this search.”

“DIdn’t even know the guy could get sick,” the crime CSI guy says, snapping a photo of one of the piles of bones. “Or the psychic. Or Detective O’Hara. The other guy, yeah.”

“I know. Shawn getting sick seems impossible. … Should we send them all a get-well card?”

“Yeah, sure, and I’ll let Lassiter know I’ve got a squirrel feeder in my yard.”

“... I’m going to pick one up on the way back to the station.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry pulls up to Gus’s apartment complex, walks up to the door, and knocks.

He hears a cough (too immediate, too rough, he can practically hear Gus dramatically doubling over like when he and Shawn were kids playing something that involved them dying), a “One second!” and then footsteps.

Gus answers the door in a hastily thrown on robe (belt is loosely tied, button-up shirt clearly visible underneath) and sleep slippers (the toe cover is bent on the left one, Gus shoved them on in a panic). “Mr. Spencer?” (forced raspiness to the voice, he coughs into his hand like he’s on a soap opera, no visible irritation in his throat when he’s coughing).

“Gus. Yeah, Shawn swung by earlier, said you were all sick, figured I’d check in and make sure this wasn’t some lame-ass stunt to get out of a case he was being blocked on.”

“Oh, uh, no. No, all must’ve caught someone from one of the suspects, maybe.”

“Yeah, Shawn sounded like hell. You uh, sound a little less under weather, though.”

“My immune system is just highly evolved.”

“Mmm-hmm. You know, Shawn’s throat was really the only symptom he had, actually. He had his helmet on the whole time, too.”

“Forgetting to take his bike helmet off doesn’t seem like a symptom to you?”

“Kid, he forgot to put on pants before coming to me for advice last week.”

“Right. Well um–” His rasp is slipping, voice going in and out of its normal sound. “– I’m going to go back to bed now.”

“Sure, sure. Just wanted to double-check. Oh, and uh, before I go.”

“Yes?”

“Where were you and Shawn last night?”

Gus’s face doesn’t know what to do– so he’s thinking about how to react. He settles on confusion after a beat. “Well, I was in bed all night. Sawing logs, counting sheep, catching sweet Z’s, snoring up a storm.”

“And Shawn?”

“Not sure. Probably doing the same, or watching a horror movie.”

“Horror movie.”

“Or, any, movie.”

“... Alright. Well, rest up, we’ve got a big update in your current case. House of a group of suspects burned down last night.”

“What? Oh… no!”

Henry smirks. Just like he remembers from the school plays. “Bye, Guster.”

He leaves, and hears the door slam shut behind him. His smirk falls off as he goes over the information in his head. It’s all adding up to a concerning picture.

He’s certain was there, at that house, while it burned down. The raspy throat is obviously because he inhaled smoke and ash, the refusal to take off the helmet probably to hide signs of an altercation, and ‘everyone being sick’ just about waves a big old flag saying ‘FOUR PARTY COVER-UP’ in his face. He doubts Shawn would burn a place down on purpose, but the old ‘grease fire in the bathroom distraction’ is a plan Shawn’s thrown out more than once, both in his childhood and adulthood.

And this time, six people ended up dead.

But why would Lassiter and Juliet cover that up for him? Gus, that’s no surprise, Juliet is, but Lassiter is the most perplexing part of this puzzle.

He gets into the black-and-white and turns on the siren so he can get to the scene as fast as possible. His son might’ve accidentally manslaughter six people pulling a dumb stunt to fake psychic with. He’ll be damned if he lets Officer McNab find evidence of that before he does.

He needs to gather enough to confront Shawn with, after all.

#psych #psychusa #psych usa #psych 2006 #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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seregios-seer · 5 months

Text

Monster Review: Kecha Wacha

This guy is one of my first memories with Monster Hunter, and by god is that gonna skew my results! I always found Kecha Wacha to be a lively, exciting animal, and it really makes low rank in 4u stand out. This is a monster that really feels like a common animal, like something that a regular person would just see in the distance. Plus the first cutscene makes him look so goofy, and it still doesn’t feel less threatening for it, which is kinda impressive tbh.

4U (IG): So Kecha has a really unique movement system, especially in netted areas. This makes him a really different kind of fight from most others up to this point, and that definitely adds to the excitement in this fight. Maneuvering around some swiping attacks while Kecha’s swinging can sometimes be a bit of a challenge due to how fast they are, but overall don’t pose much threat if you’re cautious about them. The flips from hanging can really pack a punch, and I think it adds a good deal of character to this monster, makes him feel kinda all over the place. As one of the few water element monsters in the game, Kecha Wacha can also lob blight-inducing mucus globs from his snoot. It’s definitely an interesting attack, but honestly not the biggest deal because at long distance you have so much space to dodge and in melee you can’t really even be hit. The last big thing about Kecha (until we starting talking enrage) is his swooping attacks, which pose the most danger when you’ve retreated to use an item or when you’re right up next to him. The hit boxes on these always feel a bit bigger than they should be, but more often than not were still easy to dodge (I have some really nice kills from swatting Kechas out of the air during this). There’s also however a pretty big difference between regular and enraged Kecha. Seeing the ears fold over his face and form a mask was pretty damn cool the first time I saw it, and the increased aggression really sold the “rage” part of enraged. The circle slamming and quick, repeated forward swipes made it feel like a wild animal lashing out more than any other fight in this game really does. Unlike the hanging twist attack Kecha uses while climbing, the repeated turn and slam attack is however really easy to work around, and usually becomes a free attack opportunity more than anything.

GU (Various): This fight’s very similar to the original 4U fight, but being high rank exclusive was honestly kinda shocking, although not under appreciated. The big difference here is how this fight works with hunter arts, and I must say that movement-based arts provide a huge bonus and almost trivialize this fight sometimes, but slower, heavy-damage ones get pretty hard countered by the spastic movement patterns Kecha throws out constantly. Styles like Striker and Aerial usually fare pretty well, where Alchemy sometimes has issues trying to use the barrel without extreme retreats, and until you really practice the fight, Adept and Valor can be shockingly difficult.

Rating: 9.7/10

This monkey fight like a sugar-hopped 8 year old and can hit like a gorilla.

Ash Kecha Wacha:

This is what I’m talking about! Now in large part Ash is just a reskinned element-swap but it still hits so different for me. The extra flips it brings to the fight and the generally more threatening colors also make this such a strangely good subspecies. Plus farming the 10 star quest is a good way to farm frenzy crystals, so there’s that too.

4U (IG): So aside from the obvious speed, health, and damage increase, this Kecha also spends a lot more time in the air, which isn’t much an issue for me since I use THE aerial weapon. Hovering the air for close range fire blasts and flipping into and tumbling out of dives faster than ever before, Ashbos very good a mobility, and generally feels more controlled than the base species. There’s not much more to say about the enraged form that hasn’t been said already but really? Bouncing on purple sharpness? Are his ears really that strong? Ash is overall a much more challenging and rewarding fight than the regular species, and specializing into aerial combat was a neat choice!

Rating: 10/10

4th gen subspecies stay winning!

#monster hunter #monhun #MH Reviews #kecha wacha #ash kecha wacha #my favorite funny little monkeys <3 #this one took forever to get out though #so sorry about the long delay #plus it feels like these reviews are getting even longer over time

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chaifootsteps · 6 months

Note

Totally don't wanna admit it, but can definitely see Mordecai having big potential to die just given how risky what he's doing is and how he has no backup with the Marigolds (going by the comic run right now). But I'm gonna be a very sad panda if he & Viktor don't get to have one last convo - though of course worse angst potential is either a, Mordecai gets to tell him what he's been trying to find out this whole time about Atlas, b, they're supposed to kill each other and either one pulls their shot at the least second or c, Viktor is ultimately the one to kill Mordecai...and Mordecai is actually happy with that compared to the alternatives it could have been. but I feel like most likely is maybe d, Viktor finds Mordecai just too late to say goodbye and where everyone else sees a dead monster Viktor genuinely grieves a friend

On a lighter note, the idea of the Lackadaisy crew just being baffled by all this bitter exes energy they have is very funny to me. Ivy keeps trying to remind Viktor that Mordecai crippled him and Viktor keeps shrugging it off like, once he decks him in the face for it they'll be even

You anons are going to absolutely kill me. I'm picturing Mordecai dying, either because Viktor took him out or because he died of something else, and Viktor quietly adjusts his glasses because he knows Mordecai would want it that way.

Also, I like the idea of Mordecai going out like Gus in Breaking Bad. Just straightens his suit one last time, then drops like a stone.

#Anonymous #vikdecai #Lackadaisy #actual blog post

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moonstarlupinsworld · 23 days

Text

A light glyph

Author notes: Before we start, I want to say I'm thankful for the people who joined based on my last fanfic (Ms. Weems X Injured Reader). I do intend on keeping up with the series, I promise it's not a costume of mine to disappear all the time lol.

The owl house

Eda Clawtorne X King X Reader

TW: This chapter deals with themes such as panic attacks, SH, and suicidal idealization. Your discretion is advised.

Eda’s almost petrification, Luz was almost killed in the fight with Belos, and your only way home is destroyed. Looking at your sister so sad as she tried to think of a way to go back was just too much to bear. You are trying your best to hold it in, but in the end, everything might explode.

After Eda’s almost petrification and the aftermath of the event, you’ve had an eventful couple of weeks. She is now unable to use her magic, and even if it’s taking a long time to get used to it, she’s trying her best. After destroying your only way home, you’re unable to communicate with Camila. This was super hard for Luz, and even if you try your best to be supportive, you can still see how much it affects her.

Now, the sun already setting, you are at the Owl House laying on the couch, King fast asleep in your chest. You are trapped, but it’s adorable to see his little paws covering his face as he mutters in his sleep. Luz is currently concentrating on a new glyph, hoping this time it will work.

“You have a visit! Hoot hoot!” Hooty said in his usual enthusiastic voice as the door opened, revealing a happy Willow

“Hooty, not so loud, ” you shushed, your eyes pointing at King

Hooty disappears, closing the door. Willow takes a seat beside Luz, looking at her concentrated face. Luz greets her friend with a hug, explaining all about the new glyph and the super cool fog it was supposed to create. Willow was quite interested, and kept still, watching as your sister failed (again) with the combination.

“It will work next time” you reassure her. She nods with a sad face, pushing aside her notepad. Just then, Willow stands up.

“Guess who was able to convince her dads to do a small sleepover?” she said, excited “They said it was all right as long as we didn’t conjure anything weird or create major chaos. Gus will be there too!”

Luz has a thoughtful face, looking upstairs where Eda is.

“Wow, that sounds so cool! But, I have to ask Eda first…”

Out of thin air, Eda appears behind the girls, startling them.

“Out, out of my house now!” she ushered, rushing them away with a gesture of her hands, “ Go have fun Luz, and you too Y/N.”

You sigh, it was not on your plans to go out, at least not tonight. Luz says thank you over a million times before dragging Willow by the arm upstairs so she can get her things ready.

“Give me King here, I’ll cuddle with him while you are gone, ” Eda offers with a smile, getting closer to carry the small demon.

“May I stay home for today?” you asked, not looking her in the eyes, “I just do not feel like it.”

She looks a bit shocked, but quickly changes expression and smiles.

“Sure kid, I’ll go upstairs and tell Luz, ” she walks away, and before turning over to the stairs, she adds, “And, hey, if you need anything I’ll be in my room.”

You nod, smiling. After preparing everything (and trying to convince you with five different tactics), Luz and Willow leave. You said your goodbyes and then hugged King. A feeling of drowsiness thanks to the sleepless nights takes over you, and you yawn a few times before falling asleep.

You woke up in your sleeping sack, tucked in and with an extra pillow under your head. The sleepiness was gone, so you decide to get up and look out the window, sitting on the edge, one knee close to your chest as your mind goes a million questions per minute. Were you sad about being stuck here forever? If you took away the beasts, the moments your sister and friends almost got killed, and the weird weather (and food), this place wasn’t that bad… Somehow, you felt at home. Was that wrong? What if Luz found out about this and she got mad? What if Camila one day found out and she simply hated you? And if all of this was your fault? After all, you were the first one to run as soon as that weird owl stole your sister’s book, she simply followed.

A sudden pinch in your heart makes you wince, trying to breathe so the pain would ease. You keep looking at the landscape, thinking about Luz. You could bet anything right now that she’s having a blast with Willow and Gus. She deserved it, it had been such a stressful couple of days.

What else could you think of? Penguins… otters…. Polar bears…

Another pinch, this stronger and making your breath shaky. No, not now… You were strong. This was not about to happen.

“Penguins, cute guys with a suit forever in the pattern of their skin. They are…” You put a hand on your chest, trying to distract yourself.

Your heartbeat quickened, and your breathing became shaky and unease, blurring your vision… Your hands started shaking, and your legs wobbled a bit.

Nobody could see you like this, especially not Eda… after all, she’s still recovering from the recent events.

The bathroom… the bathroom.

You hop back to the floor, rushing to the improvised safe place. You’ve been living here enough to know your way around the house without any lights on. Opening the door was difficult, but you managed.

“Okay Y/N we got this, breath” you tried to say to reassure yourself, but it wasn’t working, “come on Y/N, you can do this on your own…”

You closed the door making as little noise as you could. Whatever was about to happen, nobody had to see it. Finally, you decided to turn on the light, darkness was not a friend of yours in this kind of situation. Resting your hands on the sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You tried. And tried. And tried again. All the techniques you know, all the breathing exercises, even covering your ears to try and shut the thoughts wasn’t working.

But maybe you deserved it. Maybe you deserved to feel this. You were dying. Yes, indeed you were. Your breathing was so fast now, and almost no oxygen was coming into your lungs. It was a miracle you were still standing. Maybe all of this was your fault. Maybe you could have thrown Luz into the portal before you blew it to pieces. At least she could have gone home. Maybe you were a monster, just like your classmates told you. Eda didn’t have to be taking care of you, only kids needed a maternal figure. You were a grown-up. Almost fifteen, already a grown-up. Yes… Your legs started failing, and you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Pathetic. A pathetic, weak human, unable to protect the only thing they had to defend. A weird human. You looked down, glancing at all the lines covering your arms like shooting stars. Damn, you were weak, pathetic, and gross. You didn’t belong anywhere… you didn’t deserve Eda to be so worried about you. You should…

“SHUT UP!” You said, way louder than expected, and in your anger, you punched the mirror with your fista “Just go away, go away, and leave me alone, please…”

The mirror broke into a million pieces, and that make you panic even more. Blood was dripping from your knuckles, and the sensation seemed to numb the pain inside you a little. Small pieces flew all around, and a bigger one fell to the sink. You grabbed it, your thoughts all according to the same thing.

Eda, who was asleep, was startled by the noise. Her first instinct was to rush to your room, a light glyph in her hand. Nothing, just an empty sleeping bag. She started searching everywhere, calling you out loud.

Eda was panicking, some feathers getting onto the surface as she frantically called out for her owlet… until she heard crying in the bathroom.

“Oh no”, she muttered before knocking at the door, “Owlet, are you in there? Is Eda…”

You were now sitting on the floor, your legs had finally given up, and you collapsed, your back resting against the wall. The piece of shattered glass was still in your hand. You didn’t hear Eda’s voice or the frantic knocking on the door.

“I’m gonna come in, okay?” she said before opening the door.

After giving a quick look around, she realized three things:

One, the mirror was a goner, little bits of it were all over the floor. Two, her kid was on the floor, tears streaming down their cheeks and their breathing going a million per minute, a panic attack certainly. And then, three (and most important) she saw it: the glass.

You looked at her and tried to cover the piece of crystal, but it was too late. It took her only a few seconds to kneel, getting to your eye level.

“Give me that,” Eda said, not mad but firm.

And strangely, when she reached her hand to yours, you simply let that thing go. No resistance, no anything. You didn’t even try to mask your emotions or clean your tears.

“Help…me” you muttered, feeling like you were about to pass out any second now.

“Kid, breathe,” she says, worry clear in her voice “Is it all right if I touch you?”

You nodded weakly. She grabbed your hand, leading it to her chest and exaggerating her breathing so you could copy it. Her other hand went to hold yours, trying to stop you from hurting yourself even further.

“Come on, in for four,” she says, exaggerating her breathing so you could copy it “Then we hold and then breathe out. We got this owlet, I’m here.”

It took you a few minutes before you could sync it to her pace, and every time you failed to breathe you grew increasingly frustrated. And then, finally, you did it. You could see now, and the knot slowly untangled from your chest. It was still there, but at least now you were able to breathe in and out without choking.

But over your new calmness, a new thing decided to emerge: guilt. Eda should be sleeping, how could you keep her up at this time of the night? Were you acting like a child right now?

“It is not your fault to keep me awake at night, Y/N” Eda said, a peak of a smile on her lips, “I can’t read minds, but those eyes are telling me everything… I heard a noise and got scared something bad happened to you.”

You look down, now trying to hold back your tears. And then, your injuries started to sting. She looked at your busted knuckles, clicked her tongue in disapproval, and looked back at you.

“What about a more comfy place than this small room?” she asked, getting up from her knees “I can help you up if you want.”

You nodded, way too exhausted to articulate words. As you stood up you realized how cramped you were. Your legs were still wobbling, so Eda carried almost all your weight as you walked to the living room. King was there, and as soon as he saw you he threw himself into your arms, hugging you as tight as he could. The owl lady tried to let him go of you, but honestly, it felt nice, so you asked her to let him be. She smiled, getting to the kitchen for the medic kit.

“I heard a noise and thought some demon had got into the house,” he explained, looking at you “Are you all right, Y/N?”

You nodded weakly, sitting on the couch, him still in your arms. You were so ashamed of what you’ve done. You were older than Luz, it was your duty to be strong and care for others, it didn’t have to work the other way around.

“Sometimes you need someone to drag you home before the boiling rain hurts you, kid,” Eda said as she came back from the kitchen “I know it is hard to ask for help, but you got me now.”

“Don’t forget me! I am the ruler of the demons and shall protect you fiercely” King added, his little paw on a fist, acting as the mighty king he was.

Eda smiled half-heartedly as she grabbed your hand, cleaning the blood from it. You observed as she so patiently cleaned it and made sure there was no glass inside the wound. Then she grabbed the other one, repeating the process. She looked so concentrated as she wrapped your hands in with bandages, so worried…

“I don’t deserve help…” you whispered, finally speaking, “ I could have thrown Luz into that portal before blasting it… What kind of a big sibling I am if I can’t protect her as I should?”

Your voice started cracking, and the tears threatened to come out again as you tried to make sense of your words... King looks at Eda with desperation, his head tilting towards you in a clear attempt to ask “What do we do?”.

Eda knew some things about your past. Even if you were not an open book, anxiety physical symptoms would betray you from time to time, or the fact you always wore a hoodie, and maybe the fact you stayed home with her while Luz went to the witch school was enough to know more about you.

She sat beside you and pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Your tensed body quickly melted into the touch. Your head went to rest on her chest, small sobs coming from your mouth as you tried to calm down.

“I am no expert in those light glyphs yet, but I would create the brightness one if that could help you get out of the dark, Y/N” she whispered, holding you closer, “Not all the weight of the world has to be on your shoulders, it’s okay to let go sometimes. You are really important to me, kid, please come to my nest next time you need help.”

This warmth was something you had only felt with Camila, back in the human realm. The owl lady, that woman who tried to push everyone away and act cold, but on the inside was a warm and loving person. You felt at ease. Finally, your thoughts stopped being so loud, and you could only listen to the owl lady. Your eyes started drooping, the exhaustion finally hitting you.

“Don’t tell Luz”, you whispered in the middle of a yawn.

“Tell her about what? We played Hexes Hold’em all night and then we fell asleep” she winked, assuring you this whole thing would be a secret between you and her. “Just rest, owlet, tomorrow we can go to a nice place for treasure hunting!”

But you didn’t listen to the last part, already passed out against her, and King snuggled in your lap snoring softly. She smiled, getting comfortable and yawning.

“Damn, how I love this kid” she whispered, smiling as she looked at you, “don’t worry y/n/n, I’ll protect you.”

#toh #toh fanfic #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #luz noceda #fanfic #panic attack #comfort #the owl house #comfort character

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boygiwrites · 1 year

Text

Living the Vida Loca P.4

• Jesse Pinkman & Reader. (Platonic)

(Here’s part one.) (Here’s part two.) (Here’s part three.) (Here’s part five.) (Here’s the epilogue.)

• (Find this story on Ao3.)

Summary — A short story about how a young teenaged girl gets wrapped up in Jesse's life.

Notes — We've had a Jesse chapter, a Walt chapter, a Saul chapter, and now I give you a bit of a Mike chapter.

The point of no return.

One evening, while you're walking your neighbour's dog, two men try to kill you.

They leave you with a black eye, a purple cheek, and a red lip, crying next to a dumpster.

All you can think about is how you let the dog run away into the night.

You shuffle to the nearest bus stop, bleeding, and call out Gizmo's name the whole way.

You huddle on the metal bench.

When you find yourself staring at your contacts list, you hesitate.

The white phone light illuminates your wet face.

Jesse has tried to call you fourteen times in the last five minutes.

His unanswered text messages haunt your phone like little ghosts.

Where r u???

come home rigjt now

man i'm sorry ok

come home

i made toast n eggs for dinner

scrambled

pls

ill make waffles if u want

we can watxh tinkerbell

or whatevr

i wont be mad pls just come home

dinners getting cold

please

hello??

A five minute gap.

Get ur ass back in this fking house rn i'm not plauing

Your thumb hovers over the call button.

One last message from Jesse; ur in so much trouble. come home.

You don't even realise you've called Jimmy until his sleepy voice picks up on the other line.

The emergency room is weirdly busy at this hour. For some reason, you imagined it slowing down sometimes.

In the lobby, wearing eye bags but looking more awake than ever, Jimmy calls Walt while he rubs your back.

Then, Walt must call Jesse.

Then, Jesse tries calling you.

A single text appears after you don't pick up; im on my way baby ok

Jimmy walks you through everything that's going to happen once the police arrive, in an attempt to make it all a little less scary.

The nurses stitch up your cheek.

They give you a lollipop that you don't eat.

When two officers come in with tiny notepads and big badges to talk about the assault, Jimmy does all the talking.

All you have to do is nod at random intervals to confirm he's got the story right.

Which he does.

( When you first gave him a detailed recount, he went pale and lost his words. You've never seen him like that before. )

For the sake of yours, Jesse's, Walt's and Jimmy's safety, you agree to leave out the part where the two men claimed Gus Fring's associate sent them.

( Jimmy, who's Gus Fring? )

( Don't ask, sweetie, okay? We'll sort it out. Let me go grab some more tissues. )

The fact they were willing to put police eyes on them for this made you cry harder.

When you're released, you see Jesse waiting for you both on a curb in the parking lot, jittering like crazy.

He runs up to you and hugs you like it's his last chance.

He says he's sorry.

Sorry for everything.

He's sorry for being a shitty dad-brother, he's sorry for yelling, and fighting, and slamming doors on late nights.

He's sorry for coming home at midnight, not saying a word, and then leaving before breakfast.

He's sorry for not killing Derrick when he had the chance; sorry for not doing it sooner.

He's sorry for dragging you into this.

He's sorry for not being there.

And he's sorry that, out of everyone back at that skatepark, you ended up with him.

You hug Jesse back.

Jimmy coughs wetly and tells you guys to break it up, I'm getting misty-eyed over here.

They take you to a 24-hour diner.

It's 11PM.

You cuddle into Jesse's side and eat a big, pink, puffy Krispy Kreme donut.

He wipes away your tears.

Then, Walter finally shows up, apologizing for taking so long. He's out of breath and he has a revolver in his pants line.

He orders a lemon curd donut with cookie crumble on top and eats it with a quaint smile on his face.

Jimmy asks him if he's just happy to be here, or if that's a fucking loaded magnum under his jacket.

Walt explains that he may or may not have taken a midnight stroll.

It may or may not have taken place in a particular neighbourhood.

He may or may not have...

Well, let's not get into all that jazz right now.

He uses a napkin to wipe a speckle of blood off his palm, and stuffs it in his breast pocket.

Jim and Walt talk about a man named Mike, while you and Jesse make paper swans together.

Walt hugs you for the first time ever when you all go your separate ways at 11:46PM.

Jesse lets you know that it's okay if you want to go home with Jimmy tonight.

You called him first, after all.

Jesse tugs on his beanie.

He does that when he's anxious.

You sniff and tell him shakily; No, you idiot. I'm going home with you.

Jimmy hugs you, pats you on the back, and tells you to come over any time you want.

He also promises you that if this goes to court, he's going to have those guys locked up for so long that their grandchildren will be serving life sentences in orange jumpsuits.

He hands you back the lollipop.

You fall asleep in the back of Jesse's car on the way home.

He puts his hoodie over you.

The radio is quiet.

It's cold tonight.

When you wake up sometime around 3AM, you're tucked into Jesse's bed and he's snoring next to you on top of the blankets.

Out of everyone at that skatepark, you're glad it was him.

The aftermath.

Here are all the reasons it does not, in fact, go to court.

The first man turns up missing on the news.

His name is Rico Perez, and you recognise his black goatee and marble-y eyes.

Jesse changes the channel quickly.

Eat your cereal, baby.

You get the feeling that Rico Perez is fizzing away in a Costco bucket somewhere.

That same day, Jesse and Walt install alarms and locks all over your house.

For about a week, you stay home from school.

Jesse calls you baby a lot more now, and sings you to sleep most nights.

He's conscious of not making any loud noises around you.

He keeps a gun on him, even if he's just frying bacon.

He plays videogames with you in your bed, and draws with you, and plays frisbee in the driveway.

He rents DVD upon DVD to watch on his laptop with you.

( They're all Tinkerbell. )

( You've both seen them like a hundred times. )

It feels like you're in witness protection.

The week goes slow.

The second man turns up dead on the news.

His name is Kennedy Adams, and you recognise his wonky teeth and bloated gums.

Jesse lets you watch this time, because Kennedy was the one that did most the damage.

There's a live video of his body bag being zipped up.

Jesse punches the air and shouts, yes bitch, like he's watching the Superbowl.

He has a very long phone call that night.

The aftermath of the aftermath.

Mike Ehrmantraut says you remind him of his granddaughter.

He's got two heavy eyes, a life's worth of scars all over his hands, and the patience of a Saint.

While the two men's deaths were pending, Mike had watched your house from 4PM to 7AM, every day, with a gun in the glovebox.

Apparently, it was him who killed the second guy.

Before one of his shifts, Mike skewered his neck on a police-standard bullet and then paid some shady officers to take the credit for it.

He sounded very bored when he told you the story.

Suffice to say, he fulfilled his duty.

The morning after his last shift watching your house, you find a little teddy bear with a pink bow on the welcome mat.

The note attached reads;

In the hopes you sleep a little easier.

You do.

The night light is still permanent.

Sudden noises still reduce you to hysterics in Jesse's arms.

You'll never visit that neighbourhood again.

Instead of sitting with the other kids, you spend breaks in Walt's classroom while he eats his chicken salad.

You avoid the alley next to Jimmy's building, and instead take up graffitiing his whiteboard with his dried-up markers.

Jesse holds your hand out in public all the time, now, and he bunks with you every night.

His texts don't go unanswered, and they look more like this, now;

miss u 2 see u l8er :)

im at walmart u want ramen??

call me ok we'll do the 4 7 8 breathing thing

yo that looks dope u like picasso n shit

mondays kicking the shiz out my ass

home in 10 :)

u having a good day bby?

yo com downstairs im puting mario cart on

love u

You don't dog-walk anymore.

You don't sing randomly in the kitchen.

You don't talk.

But you sleep a little easier.

When Gizmo is found by an old lady five miles from home, you sleep even better.

When Gus Fring turns up dead on the TV one month later, you sleep like a god damn baby.

End Notes — I couldn't find a suitable place to squeeze this in, so I just implied it, but Walter killed Rico right before showing up at the diner. I imagine he wrapped him in a tarp or something and locked him in his trunk, ate his donut, and then he and Jesse liquified him the next day. Fun times!

#breaking bad #breakingbad #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #saul goodman #walter white #mike ehrmantraut #angst #hurt/comfort #hurt-comfort #reader insert #reader

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bonkwosher · 1 year

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Poly!Lacho x GN!Reader ~ Enemy Within Pt. 2

A/N: This is to go along with this pitch I made, along with part 1 of this fic. I may or may not be writing this before part 1 is even released bc I want to write a part 2 so bad. SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THE LATTER HALF HAD ME UPSET BUT I REALLY LIKE IT NOW.

Prompt: Lacho (Lalo x Nacho) x Reader where Lalo & Nacho live in a big home & eventually the reader either stays the night or ends up living with them. This is in the time when Lalo & Gus are going head to head & thanks to Mike, Gus knows about the reader. Gus orders his men to kidnap the reader, beat them up, then frees them & pretends to be a good samaritan that saves them & brings them home to Lalo & Nacho. Gus uses this to get into Lalo & Nacho's home to find out their plans & Lalo & Nacho, who haven't told the reader about their business, are freaking out that Gus is now basically the reader's best friend. ~ Yours Truly

Contains: Violence (Silly little cartel boys get revenge for you), Derogatory terms (Slut), Homophobia/Prejudice Against Polyamory, Guns, Bolsa being a mean man (LMAO)

Word Count: 4198

Part 1 | [Part 2]

Lalo gave his husband a quick nod before watching the two leave towards the bedroom upstairs. He placed his hand on his gun as he turned back to Gus.

"You know you can't kill me, Lalo," Gus spoke as he fixed his posture, the bloody nose finally drying up, "Don Eladio would never forgive you."

Lalo pulled out his phone & dialed a number, the angry expression never leaving his face, "Bolsa, I'd like to meet up with Eladio as soon as possible. I know we were just there but, we have a... problem with one of his favorite men. I thought it would be best if we met in person."

Lalo hung up & placed the phone in his back pocket.

"You're lucky you have the chance to walk out of here alive. Just know that if you so much as look at my partner ever again, I will torture you for the rest of your life & never give you the satisfaction of death."

"Well, Y/N has my number. If they decide to contact me that's not my fault. I just want to make sure they'll recover smoothly after all of that. Maybe we'll become good friends!" Gus' cheery tone returned.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House!" Lalo spoke through gritted teeth.

"Seems like I should see myself out. Nice to meet you, Mr. Salamanca," Fring held out his hand, clearly relishing in the fact that he was torturing his enemy.

"Last chance before I shoot you right here, Fring."

Gus took the hint & finally turned towards the door. Lalo wished he could shoot him in the back of the head right there. After Fring left, Lalo locked the door behind him. He pulled out his phone once more & called for more men to be sent to his house. He walked along the inside perimeter of the house making sure everything was locked. Once he was done he walked up to the bedroom. Ignacio was laying on the side of the bed with your arms & legs wrapped around him, you were out cold.

"Are they feeling better?" Lalo asked softly, noticing that his husband refused to look at him, "I'm sorry, mi corazón. I could not have known this would happen."

Ignacio glared at his husband through his eyebrows. Lalo could have known because he was constantly telling him it would happen. He let his mind wander as he looked up at the ceiling. Sleeping was going to be impossible for those two, if you weren't so drained you'd be up with them. Lalo sat in the chair by the bed & placed his gun on the armrest. He would not sleep until his men were there to watch over you. Then again he had a lot to think about, the methods he'd use to break each bone in the body of the man that hurt you.

"Brian Clarke," Lalo thought aloud, gaining the attention of his husband, "Clarke with an e at the end. Brian... Clarke."

Once his men arrived he met them outside, ordering two of them to hunt down your assailant while the others patrolled the house. Finally, Lalo had a chance to relax. He made his way back to the bedroom & got in bed. He turned over, looking at you, & felt guilt wash over him once more. Now that he wasn't protecting you or enraged at Gus, he was just disappointed with himself. He lied to Ignacio & put you in danger, to be fair he didn't think anyone would be dumb enough to cross him. He should've accounted for Gus' unpredictability.

That morning Ignacio was shaken awake by his husband who wore a bright smile considering what happened last night. Ignacio gave Lalo a confused & heavily tired look.

"We got him," Lalo dragged out his words, cheer filling his tone.

"Who?" Ignacio's brow furrowed, "Fring?"

Lalo stepped back & used his hands to talk, "No, no. Not yet! Brian Clarke, the man who hurt Y/N!"

Ignacio shushed his husband & looked down at you, sleeping as peacefully as you could with such injuries. Without a second thought, anger took over & he held eye contact with Lalo.

"Make him suffer."

"You don't want to come with me? A little husband-husband bonding," he teased.

"I'm not leaving Y/N alone ever again," Ignacio ran his hand through your hair, causing your unconscious form to slightly tighten your grip around his midsection.

Lalo felt his smile falter but hid it by lightly hitting Ignacio's arm, "Hey, I'll have my fun then you can take your turn."

Ignacio barely processed that his husband was talking, gritting his teeth & imagining breaking the man's spirit, "I want to go first. Stay with Y/N."

Lalo felt like a schoolgirl watching Ignacio climb out of bed, his fists clenched (Lalo: "That is the hottest thing you've ever said" LMAO). Before Ignacio could make it out Lalo pulled him close & gave him a long kiss, pulling Ignacio as close to him as he possibly could. As much as Ignacio wanted to still be upset with Lalo, he couldn't help but melt in his husband's grasp.

"Make him wish he never laid eyes on our querida, mi corazón (darling, my heart)," Lalo spoke as he pulled away from the kiss.

As Ignacio left, Lalo heard you mumbling in your sleep. He quickly climbed into bed with you & wrapped your limbs around him. He leaned back & pulled out his phone, connecting to a nanny cam that was installed in the basement. Pulling out headphones & putting one in his ear, he waited for his husband to walk down the stairs.

Ignacio entered Lalo's study & closed the doors, making sure no one could see what he was doing. In typical Lalo fashion, he created a secret door & basement. Initially, it was so he couldn't be caught by police but it helped keep their business from you as well. Ignacio hit a hidden button & the door slid open. He took a deep breath & walked slowly down the stairs, Brian's pleads became audible quickly.

"Where am I? You've got the wrong guy!"

"I don't think I do, Brian. Your boss sold you out. You picked the wrong side," Ignacio taunted the man who was chained to a wall.

Brian's skin went pale, he recognized his captor even in the dim, red light.

"Ignacio Varga," he breathed out.

Ignacio grabbed a cigar cutter from the table & brought it up to the man, ignoring his pleas. He cut the man's pointer finger clean off, relishing the screams of pain the man let out.

"Only people I love can call me Ignacio," he began while holding up the cigar cutter once more, "Speaking of people I love, I believe you know why you're here."

The man was full-on crying now, amusing Ignacio, "It was just a job, I didn't know they were important to you."

"I don't like liars, Brian," Ignacio spoke before cutting another finger off.

"Fine! I knew who they were! It's a job though, I can't just say no. I have to do what I'm paid for!"

"Torturing innocent people, that's what you're paid to do?"

This man was in so much pain he didn't even consider watching his words, "They can't be innocent, they're dating you & Lalo Salamanca! They're just as bad as you!"

Lalo, who was watching with a bright smile on his face, whispered to himself, "Ohoho, you've just sealed your fate, Bryito."

Lalo felt you moving under him & quickly closed his phone, slightly sad he wouldn't be able to watch his husband's rage live. He looked down at you to see you slowly pushing yourself up, arms shaking.

"No, no, no, querida! Don't overwork yourself," Lalo spoke quickly trying to awkwardly lift some of your body weight for you.

You were initially surprised by the fact that you were no longer laying on Ignacio's chest, but you were happy to have some alone time with your other partner now, "I'm fine, Lalo. I'm just getting up."

Your statement was immediately followed by a wince & Lalo no longer allowed you to move on your own, pulling you up to lay on his chest. You laughed at the fact that he could heft you around like nothing.

"You should take the pain meds, querida."

"You're right, I need food then. Guess we have to get up," you teased causing your to partner smile.

"Fine, fine. But if you get in any pain I will find a way to carry you!"

The two of you made your way downstairs & into the kitchen, Lalo ghosting a protective arm around your waist. He directed you to sit at the table while he made breakfast. Lalo turned on some music & sung along with it while putting on his apron.

"Where's Ignacio?" you asked, making Lalo's eyes widen a hopefully unnoticeable amount.

"Oh, he went to the gym, he had to get some frustration out. I'll text him to find out when he's coming back."

Lalo Salamanca: Y/N & I are in the kitchen! When are you coming back from the gym?

Lalo waited as the meat cooked, staring at his phone hoping Ignacio understood what he meant. He tapped his foot to the beat of the music.

"Mi corazón Ignacio": Alright, I'll be home soon. I love you!

Lalo relayed the information to you & continued cooking. He took a moment to pour out a glass of water for you & set it on the table, kissing you before turning back to the stove. You almost choked on your water when you saw a man outside with a gun slung over his back. Freaking out, you didn't hear Ignacio enter the home.

"Lalo! There's- a guy!" You started hyperventilating as you jumped out of your seat, trying to run away.

Ignacio ran up & grabbed you leading you toward one of the many unassuming dressers in your home. Unbeknownst to you, a gun sat in one of the drawers.

"Is it the security?" Ignacio asked, pulling your head to his chest, which you now noticed was bare.

Lalo grabbed his hip & looked outside, one of his men. He should've relayed the fact that you now have a security detail to you earlier, he was just too distracted by all that his husband was doing in the basement.

"Sí, I'm sorry querida. I forgot to tell you I hired some extra security," Lalo spoke, lowering his hand & walking up to the two of you.

Lalo threw an arm over both yours & Ignacio's shoulders as the latter tried to bring you down from your panic. Lalo was never as good with these things as Ignacio was, so he tried his best to use his presence to offer comfort. He lightly squeezed your shoulder & placed a kiss on your cheek.

"Everything is okay, ángel, you heard what Lalo said."

Once you managed to calm down, the two led you back to the kitchen. Lalo returned to cooking while Ignacio sat across from you holding your hand. A bit later, Lalo placed plates full of food in front of you & Ignacio before sitting down with his own. You ate in peaceful silence for a while before a ping rang from your phone, more so catching Lalo's attention than anyone else. Your phone was in the living room & you didn't care enough to get it, not voicing your opinion, instead just chowing down on the amazing breakfast.

"Lalo, your cooking is always so amazing," you complimented.

"Thank you, querida," his mind was far away.

A second ping hit your phone & Lalo stood up believing the pings to be texts from Gus. He walked off into the living room & grabbed your phone, false alarm, emails. He brought your phone back with him & set it on the table.

"You have some emails from work," Lalo handed you your phone & sat back down.

You let go of Ignacio's hand to reply to your boss, Ignacio's eyes flitted up towards you & stayed locked on your face. He felt an extreme need to always see you or feel you, likely fuelled by the guilt of letting you get hurt. He wasn't even eating at this point, just staring.

"How was the gym, Ignacio?"

He didn't even turn to face Lalo, "It was good, I feel a bit better now."

You looked up to meet Ignacio's eyes, "Oh yeah, you went to the gym. Do you need a shirt or do you just want to sit there shirtless & looking pretty?"

Ignacio's eyes softened & he gave you a soft smile. Lalo let out a chuckle, "What, you don't like what you see? Close your eyes then because I do!"

You & Ignacio erupted into laughter & life felt normal again. Your phone began to ring & you stood up slowly, walking into the other room to take the call. Lalo didn't question it, trying not to be paranoid for five seconds & Ignacio kept an eye on you still, scooting his chair a little bit to keep you in view. Ignacio subconsciously tightened his grip on the knife that he was using to cut his food.

"Hello? Oh hi, great to hear from you again. Yeah, I'm good. I'm in a lot less pain than yesterday but it's still rough," after another pause you turned to look into the kitchen, "Can we have Gus over for lunch?"

Lalo turned to look at Ignacio, "Oh, well- I was thinking we should, erm- go visit the doctor to see what we can do to help you recover?"

You paused for a moment, listening to Gus, "Gus asks if dinner is okay?"

"Querida, I-" Lalo wanted to protest but you looked so innocent & he feared saying no would hurt your feelings, "Yeah, that's fine."

The hospital trip only amounted to the doctor informing you that you should stay in bed. Lalo tried to use that to convince you to rain-check your dinner but you felt indebted to Gus. As the three of you pulled into the driveway, Lalo received a phone call. He stepped out of the car & walked a bit away before answering.

"Bolsa?"

"Yes, Lalo. I got your message, would you like me to come across the border to discuss the matter with you in person?"

"Hmm, yes. Is tonight doable?"

"Yes, Lalo, but if this is another 'you not trusting Fring without a fraction of evidence' then I will take it up with Eladio."

"Of course, Bolsa. I have reason this time, my uncle has no influence in my decision."

"Alright, I will head to you now."

Lalo couldn't help but be happy now with the fact that Gus was coming over, ensnaring himself in a trap of Lalo's own design. He walked inside to find that you & Nacho had already gone upstairs, likely to cuddle. He decided to get some extra work in with your friend in the basement. He entered his study, opened the door, & made his way downstairs. Brian instantly heard the footsteps.

"I've told you everything, please. I'm sorry I hurt your partner," his voice was hoarse & he barely had the strength to look up at Lalo.

"Oh no, I haven't had the chance to hear your story," Lalo grabbed a large, jagged knife off the table, "& I have a friend who would love to hear it. If you don't mind telling them, I just might let you live."

You were doing your best to help set up dinner. You were moving slow & had to take breaks but Ignacio was there to pick up where you left off each time. Lalo walked up, pulling Ignacio away from the table as he laid down utensils. He took Ignacio into the other room so you wouldn't hear him muttering something like, "Let me show you some of the current profits, tell me what you think."

You tried your best to set up the rest of the table, looking over your shoulder to see Ignacio staring at you.

"I'm fine!" You yelled, causing him to smile.

Ignacio rejoined you in setting up dinner & within minutes there was a knock at the door. You turned to get it but Lalo ran past you towards the door shouting, "Rest, querida!"

The door opened to reveal Gus with a bottle of expensive-looking wine in hand. He offered the wine to Lalo before stepping inside & heading straight to you. He attempted to sit next to you but Ignacio quickly took his spot. Lalo had already staked his claim at the head of the table, despite still cooking on the other side of the kitchen, so Gus ended up sitting across from you. Ignacio placed a tight grip on your leg to the point where your leg began to hurt.

"Ignacio- Can you," his eyes snapped to you & he loosened his grip, "I'm sorry ángel, I got lost in thought."

"About what?" You asked, trying your best to hold eye contact as your partner avoided it.

Ignacio did his best to not look back at Gus, lying to you felt so wrong but he knew it was to keep you safe, "I just wish I ended up staying here to protect you."

"That's not your fault, baby. You & Lalo had business & it's not like any of us knew I was in danger. I'm safe now because my two wonderful husbands are here to protect me," you admittedly gave a cheesy line at the end but it made Ignacio feel a bit better.

Lalo finished cooking & placed the plates down once more. He had an oddly cheery attitude while sitting next to his worst enemy. Gus noticed that instantly. He couldn't brush it off as Lalo being a good actor.

"How was your day, Gus?" You asked as you dug into your food.

"It was nice, thank you. A lot of meetings."

"Meetings for what?"

"I own a restaurant chain called Los Pollos Hermanos, I spend most of my time making sure each restaurant is up & running."

"Oh! Lalo owns some restaurants too, right Lalo!"

"Yes, querida. It sadly takes a fair amount of my time away from my partners but I do get to work with Ignacio on occasion, that's taken some of the workload off my shoulders."

"Why do you not work with Y/N," Gus struck a cord.

"Well, I-" Lalo began, being met with your immediate interjection.

"I am, in no way, capable of running a business. Thank you for the vote of confidence though, Gus."

You took another bite of your food & gave him a smile. A knock at your front door made you jump a little. Lalo jumped up & headed to the door while Ignacio grabbed your hand.

"Let's go upstairs, ángel," Ignacio nodded towards the large staircase behind him & looked a bit concerned.

"Why, we're having dinner?"

"I- just, come with me."

"O-Okay, sure I guess."

You were confused, definitely. You wouldn't admit it but you were a little scared. Ignacio sounded... unsettled for lack of a better word. You turned to see the man at the door for just a second before Ignacio drew your attention back to him. He was tall with dark hair & a fancy suit. He shook Lalo's hand with a smile.

"Please, Juan, join us in the kitchen."

By "us", Bolsa expected to see Lalo's husband, Ignacio. The fact that Lalo was married to a man became well-known quickly throughout the cartel. It would be a lie to say people took him less seriously after the wedding. You, on the other hand, were still a secret until now.

"Oh! Fring, I didn't expect you to be here," Bolsa replied to Gus' shocked look.

The three men sat at the table in silence for a moment as Lalo pulled out a folder.

"I called you here today, Juan, because Fring kidnapped my partner. I believe he was trying to take a stab at my family's business!"

"Where is Nacho now?" Bolsa asked.

"I- No, my other partner."

"Other partner?"

"Yes, Y/N, they're upstairs now but-"

"Are they actually your partner or are they some slut you hired."

Lalo stood up & slammed his fist onto the table, "Will you listen to me, Juan?!"

Silence fell over the table once more as Lalo practically threw the folder at Juan. He opened the folder to see pictures from your doctor's visit that day showcasing each & every injury you sustained. Bolsa was silent as he looked through each one.

"So you say Fring kidnapped them to undermine you?"

"Yes!"

"Then why are they alive?" Bolsa asked bluntly.

"What?" Lalo froze, this wasn't going how he planned.

"You think Fring doesn't have the resources to make someone disappear. Am I wrong to assume that it would be easy for you?" Bolsa turned to Fring.

"N-No, I have made some less than trustworthy workers disappear as you say," Gus tried to sound more innocent, a liar's tactic?

"No! He kidnapped Y/N, hurt them, then let them go to get to me! One of his men, who was involved, admitted it all to me!"

"You kidnapped one of my men?" Gus, again, feigned innocence.

"You gave me his name! You wanted me to take him!"

The group was yelling too loud to hear Ignacio calling out to you to come back. Your husband tried to grab you but you got past him & ran downstairs.

Lalo pulled out his gun & pointed it at Gus, "He hurt my partner, you can't let him get away with that!"

"Lalo?" You spoke no louder than a whisper while grabbing his arm.

Lalo didn't register your voice & threw you to the floor, pointing his gun at you. The fear in your eyes almost made him drop his gun. He quickly holstered his gun & kneeled down in front of you, you scrambled away from him.

"Querida, I-"

"I take it you haven't told them about your business," Bolsa, who was now standing, spoke down on his fellow Don with a twisted smile, "Are they really your partner if you can't trust them?"

Ignacio helped you up but you stepped away from him as well, "What are they talking about?"

Ignacio fell silent & you backed away. You felt so confused & betrayed. You were almost at the door when Ignacio spoke up.

"Gus Fring was the one that ordered your kidnapping."

"What?" You now noticed that Gus was in the room as well.

"I would never, Y/N, I did all I could to help yo-"

Lalo quickly raised his gun to point at Gus, "SHUT UP!"

Gus' hands flew to his head & you tried to protest, Lalo immediately interrupted you.

"Ignacio, take Y/N up to our room, we'll tell them everything after," his voice turned cold, "Give me five minutes."

Ignacio went to pull you into a hug but you ripped yourself away again, "You can't hurt Gus, he saved me!"

"No, Y/N, please. I'll explain it all upstairs," Ignacio tried to reason with you.

"If I go upstairs I can't guarantee Gus' safety," You turned to look at Lalo, "If you hurt him I- I'll call the police."

The sound of a gun clicking made you freeze. You didn't have to turn to know it was pointed at you.

"We can't have you doing that," Bolsa spoke, bringing the gun a little closer to your head.

Lalo turned to point his gun at Bolsa, "Don't."

"You cannot let them go to the police, if they so much as touch a phone I will shoot. We have a lot more to protect here than your marriage, Lalo. You know my job!"

"Fine! I'll go upstairs," You turned on your heel & walked right past Ignacio, who walked behind you to keep you safe.

As soon as you got upstairs you made a beeline for your room & locked yourself in before Ignacio could reach you. To say you were scared was a terrible understatement. You didn't know what was going on & all you could convince yourself was true was that you weren't making it out of here alive. Ignacio didn't try to fight you, if anyone in this godforsaken world could understand how you were feeling right now it was him. He rested his back against the door & slid to the floor with a thud, letting his head rest in his hands. There was a long period of silence.

"Àngel, I-" Another pause made your heart race, "I wish I knew what to say. I understand that this is... terrifying. We didn't want you to find out this way. Ugh, that doesn't change anything. We didn't want you to get hurt."

You didn't respond, you were genuinely afraid your husband was waiting for a chance to kill you.

"We thought keeping everything from you would keep you safe. All it did was make you an easy target. I want to tell you everything. I'll do it from behind this door if I have to but please, just tell me if you want to hear it."

You hesitated for a moment before standing up from your spot on the bed & moving to sit against the door. Your mind wouldn't let you admit it but being close to Ignacio again calmed you a bit.

You held your knees close to your chest, "Tell me everything."

A/N: So.... Part 3? :)))))

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pandoratheprocrasticreator · 2 years

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so looking at the kids injuries...

you can see the usual scrapes and scratches that the show uses for pg injuries. no ones, like, bleeding because i doubt disney would have been too happy with that. (dell did bleed a lot in kkkohd in the flashback when eda attacked him so maybe disney just doesnt want specifically kids to be too injured)

luz has a cut on her eyebrow that everyone’s been talking about but its also interesting to note that her facial injuries (scratches on her right cheek and cut on her left eyebrow) are similar to hunter’s facial injuries (scratches on his left eyebrow and a scar on his right cheek). guess that’s another parallel.

willow is holding her right arm in here which initially made me think it was injured. but she seemed to be using it just fine earlier so maybe she’s just cold/nervous.

the kids seem to have all taken a few falls to the face and scratched up their arms while defending themselves. if you look at the dana terrace art you can also see quite a few scraped knees. willow has a tear in her pant leg which was probably also from a fall.

luz and gus tore their sleeves on their upper arm. which seems a lot harder to do? i guess if belos struck at them and they dodged at the last second and he grazed their sleeve? also amity has a tear in her pant leg near the ankle. it’s on the inside of her leg. how did she get that part torn without twisting her ankle or something?

the most important thing i want to point out are the tearss in hunter and amity’s shirts. amity’s shirt has a small tear near where her diaphragm would be. you can see her skin through the tear and she’s not wounded which is good. (i doubt any of these kids will actually be seriously wounded from the fight because that would break up the story and also the rat would stop them) guess belos swiped a claw at her and she jumped back just in time.

hunter has two much longer cuts across the front of his shirt, one of them where his heart and lungs would be. the color through the tear doesn’t match his skin or his undershirt but for the sake of my sanity i will assume he is also uninjured there and thats just shadow. but yeah. belos aimed for the chest. he really wanted to kill that boy.

#toh #the owl house #kings tide #hexsquad #im using that tag now #luz noceda #amity blight #willow park #gus porter #hunter toh #theres also a lot to analyze about the kids body language in danas art #amity gus and willow are all asleep #but amity looks like shes having a bad dream and gus is crying in his sleep #willow looks like she conked out for the count #all the kids are cuddling with each other except for luz and hunter #luz looks very withdrawn with her hands in her pockets and her leg separating herself from amity and vee #although amity is clinging to her arm luz doesnt hug her back #hunter practically has gus in his lap and is keeping willow from tipping over by holding her shoulder #are they like. sleeping against a wall? camila please give these kids sleeping bags #gus is wedged between hunter and willow because they both want to protect him #and willow is holding hands with gus my loves #looks like gus curled up between hunter and willow before he fell asleep just from how hes holding his chest and his shoulders are hunched #and how one of his legs hasnt straightened out #luz looks angry and im not sure if its because of eda and king or if theres a new reason theyll bring up in season 3 #hunter has a similar expression to luz but the way his lips are pursed and his nostril is flared makes him look like hes about to cry #and theyre barely touching! luz keeps her hand in her pocket although shes touching hunters leg with her knee #and hunter could easily straighten out his leg or put his free arm around luz but he's purposely keeping that posture which is more tiring #neither of them are asleep and theyre deep in thought i guess. i sense tension between them #is it the hollow mind thing? or luz's sacrifice? i hope they talk about both of those in season 3 #but yeah theyre too Traumatized to sleep theyre too tense to hug each other and their friends are sleeping so they cant even talk about it

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royaltysuite · 1 year

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hi, thank you for answering! (and sorry for accidentally spelling his name wrong, that’s literally so embarrassing but i was in a hurry😅)

i would like to just submit a regular request with ryung-gu where the reader is the childhood best friend of joon-woong but dies at the beginning of the show (she was murdered) but is reunited with him as she also joins ryeon’s team. secretly, she tries to find the guy who murdered her to get revenge.

she has a weird feeling around ryun-gu and also gets suspicious as he’s clearly avoiding her. after a while of working with them, she finds out that they were lovers in a past life, connected through the red thread of fate, before he died after what happened to his mother and leaving her alone in the process. as they try to find and stop the guy who killed the reader from killing other innocent people, she learns to forgive ryung-gu and they fall in love again.

you said u wanted it to be specific and i tried to come up with as much detail as i could; hope this isn’t too specific now. :)

This is gonna pull at my heartstrings while I write this....I hope you enjoy this request!!!~~~

Summary: Long ago, Ryung-gu and Y/n were 'star-crossed' lovers, separated by the chains of social status. Her being from a wealthy upper-class family with scholars and him, a genius born in the slums. On her way from a visit at her close friends home and to see her lover, Y/n is kidnapped and murdered, her body left splayed out in the cold. Four centuries later, Y/n is now an official reaper at Jumadeung and joins the Risk Management team. Tensions rise as she attempts to seek revenge on her killer and memories begin to pop up with each interaction she has with her team member, Ryung-gu.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of murder and kidnapping, friends-to-frenemies, fluff. Not proof-read.

Word Count: 1.6k words

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Lover's Reunited (Ryung-gu x Reader)

Y/n's Pov

"Welcome to the team, Y/n. I hope you're ready for everything that comes your way." Ryeon said as I followed her into the Risk Management's Team Office. "I'm ready for anything." I answered. Once we entered the office, my eyes drifted across the room and connected to a pair of widened ones. " Ryung-gu, Jun-woong, this is L/n Y/n. She's now the newest member of the Risk Management Team. Ryung-gu, could you show here a quick little rundown of how we operate?"

Turning my head in the direction of her question, I made eye contact with the handsomest man ever. I waited a few seconds for his answer, but all he did was stare at me. "Is there, uh, something on my face?" I asked, starting to feel a bit awkward from his harsh stare. That seemed to snap him out of his daze. "Sorry, umm, let me give you a tour of our day-to-day agenda and how we keep track of our job." He stumbled, his cheeks gaining a light flush to them. "Great! I can't wait to start."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ryung-gu's Pov

The day was going by slowly as I waited for my shift to come to an end. Jun-woong and I were currently finishing up our latest mission reports when Ryeon came walking in, except she wasn't alone. "Ryung-gu, Jun-woong, this is L/n Y/n. She's now the newest member of the Risk Management Team. Ryung-gu, could you show here a quick little rundown of how we operate?" She asked.

The question just went through one ear and out the other. 'It couldn't be her, could it?' I thought, my eyes widening in surprise as I got a look at the person behind Ryeon. It was Y/n. Standing right in front of me, it was her. It's been at least four centuries since I last saw her. But, she's here.

"Is there, uh, something on my face?" She asked, touching her face. Her voice sounded the exact same, but not trying to make her feel any more awkward, I answered. "Sorry, umm, let me give you a tour of our day-to-day agenda and how we keep track of our job." I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up a little. "Great! I can't wait to start." She chirped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n's Pov

It's been a little over 6 months since I joined the RM team. With each chance I got after every mission, I got closer and closer to finding out where and who my killer was. That was my sole purpose for joining this team. Only problem, Ryung-gu seems to be avoiding me ever since my first day on the job.

However, there was no time for worrying about it. "Hey, listen to me. I've been where you are. Feeling like you couldn't do anything to prevent him from his death? Feeling like it should've been you instead of him? It's natural for that to happen. It's why people call it grief. But, let me tell you, he wouldn't have wanted you to do this. He wants to believe that he'll see you again in the next life and the one after that. So, trust me when I say, it's going to get better. It's going to be like hell going through it, but it will get better. So, take my hand and I'll help you start the journey to healing." I spoke, reaching my hand out to the young girl in front of me.

"Do you really believe that? That we'll be together again?" The girl sobbed. "Yes, I do. Now, grab my hand." She hesitated for a bit, but she stepped down from the ledge and ran into my arms. Collapsing on the floor, I cradled her in my arms and let her cry until she calmed down.

"Thank you. I know that's probably weird to say after everything, but I really mean it." "There's no need to thank me, now let's get you home and out of this cold. "

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Y/n, great work today. She seemed to really trust you." Jun-woong chimed, setting down a coffee right in front of me. "Thanks, you are a life-saver. But, it wasn't much. I just understood where she was coming from. When I was younger, I went through the same thing when my brother died in battle. The only person I could really trust after that was my best friend. But, I don't really remember much after my death so..."

We continued to chat until I noticed Ryung-gu walking into the room, looking troubled. "Ryung-gu, what's up? You seem worried." I asked. "It's nothing. The Director wants to see you. Something about your report." He answered. "Oh, okay....well, I guess I'll see you guys in a few."

Finishing up my coffee, I quickly made my way to the Director. On my way there, I bumped shoulders with someone. I turned to apologize but froze up. "Y-you...You!" I growled, my blood starting to boil. The man turned and I got a clear look at his face. It was the man that murdered me.

Letting out a scream, I ran and tackled him to the ground. The both of us grunted as we made contact to the ground. I began throwing punches left and right, each blow I let out a yell. What felt like hours was actually minutes. Soon enough, I felt arms wrap around me and Ryung-gu's voice flooding my ears. "Y/n, stop! He's not worth it!" "It is worth it! He killed me! He killed me and my brother!" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Ryung-gu and Jun-woong, who showed up minutes later, pulled me off the guy who was smirking at me. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" A booming voice echoed deep in the hall. Reapers on every side stood silent as the Director came closer to the scene. “Who escorted this criminal in this building?” “No one. I came here on my own…” He stated, a cold smirk still lying on his face. I struggled in Ryung-gu’s grasp, just wanting to land one, killing strike on this asshole.

“YOU LIAR! YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO ME! TO MY FAMILY!!!” “You deserved what came to you. Your father owed huge debts and when he couldn’t pay himself, I did it for him.” He chortled in a sarcastic tone. “After all, it ended well for you. You’re back with your lowly lover, Lim Ryung-gu, so you should be thanking me.”

‘What….?’ I thought, anger slowly turning into confusion. Apparently, that amused him. “Oh, she never told you? The Director here sealed off your memories with him with MY recommendation. My plan to get away with it would’ve gone smoothly if you hadn’t started meddling with him or his team.” He spoke. “Enough!” The Director hissed before turning to another reaper. “Call for the Escort team’s best reaper and have them escort this man to the punishment room. Mr.Lim, if you could bring Y/n to my chambers. I will explain everything in great detail very soon. Everyone else, please continue on with your previous duties. That is enough discord for today.” She ordered, shuffling down the corridor .

As she walked off, Ryung-gu brought me into her office as instructed. Once we reached the door, I stopped in my tracks. “Did you know…?” I whispered. “What?” “Did you know? About me losing my memories? About our past together?” I cried, whipping my head in his direction with tears beading in the corners of my eyes. Ryung-gu’s once stoic expression softened into one of guilt and embarrassment. “Yes, I did.” He answered. “How long did you know?” “Since your first day here. When I saw you enter the office, I was in disbelief. I tried convincing myself that it was someone that looked like you, but after every mission, the more I came to terms with the truth. That you were real. Everything was confirmed when the Director called me into her office. She told me the truth about how you died, how you murdered. It took a long time for you to be reincarnated as a reaper and for our ties to appear again. I’m sorry that I kept this from you, I just didn’t know how to tell you properly.”

Each word he spoke was genuine and I knew it was the truth. Turning around to face him, I placed a gentle hand on his cheek and softly caressed it. “I- I’m sorry it took so long to come back to you. I’m so, so sorry” I sobbed. Ryung-gu pulled into his warm embrace, stroking my head as my tears soaked into his clothes. We sat like this for what felt like ages before we separated.

“I see you both have resolved everything on your own.” The Director spoke, her presence becoming known as she entered the room. “This day was never supposed to work out this way, but fate can be wildly mysterious. So, tell me, what will you two do now?” We turned to look at each other before I answered. “I think…We’ll do what we’ve always done. And that’s to help the ones who need it and we’ll do it together.” “Together.”

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Author’s Note: Here we are, Anon. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Ryung-gu ended up being a teddy bear type of guy, but that’s how I see him. I’ve added in the small detail of Y/n having a brother and the relationship between them and Ryung-gu already established. If any one has any commission requests, I leave a link down below on how to request them. If you’d like to be added to the fandom taglist, leave a like and a comment. With that being said, Stay Classy~~

#tomorrow kdrama #tomorrow kdrama x reader #park jung gil #lim ryung gu x reader #lim ryung gu #x reader #kdrama

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