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ineed-to-sleep · 3 months

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2, 6, and 26 for the tav ask game

26 answered here!

6. What is your tav's favourite childhood memory?

A lot of her time spent in West Harbor among her friends has provided her with good memories, but her favorite is actually something she experienced in the swamp. Though she's been through a lot more danger and stress traversing that area, there was no feeling quite as good as the first time she managed to get inside an Illefarn ruin, successfully slipping by unnoticed by the giant frogs and beetles that made the place their home.

The ruins were unlike anything she'd ever seen before. The halls were large and drafts of wind whistled and echoed through them, tall pillars held up the broken ceiling and she saw flights of stairs that seemed to stretch endlessly beyond her vision. The walls were cold to the touch, but she touched them nonetheless, trying to trace the swirling patterns that decorated them with her fingers. The entire place looked alien to her, a complete departure from the modest wooden houses of West Harbor that she was familiar with.

There was also something unusual that filled the air, something that raised the hairs on her arms and sent a chill down her spine. It should've been terrifying, but instead, the feeling brought her a strange comfort. She felt as if the ruins themselves were taking her hand and pulling her in. She roamed from room to room, finding old tomes with little marks and dots of ink she couldn't read, broken objects with intricate but faded designs, statues of people that looked like elves but... not quite. She lost track of time in her exploration, excited for what she could discover next, moving deeper inside the ruins almost as if carried by a gentle current.

She doesn't remember how she did it, it just happened as she kept walking and the light around her kept dimming, but she heard what sounded like faint whispers from the darker corners of the hall and suddenly, in a burst of shivers, she was surprised by a flickering ball of light emerging out of her fingers. It stood beside her and became her companion for a while, following her as it slowly waned out over the hours, serving as a great assistant to make her way out of the ruins before it fully faded away.

She never forgot that moment, and even though the light disappeared, she learned to cast it again later on, along with many more lights to keep it company.

2. What relationship did your tav have with their family/guardian(s) growing up? Has that changed with age?

To put it simply, it hasn't changed and it's likely that it never will- for better or for worse.

She was raised by her uncle, with no other family alive besides him, something that was way more important to her than it was to him. To her, he was the most important person in the world, but to him, she was a responsibility he didn't want and a sour reminder of his own failings.

I go into it more under the cut as this is uh. A loaded question jfjckfk

Her parents were both dead by the time she came out of the womb- her father was a Neverwinter city guard, killed on the job, and her mother a seldarine drow that didn't survive the childbirth process. Her uncle had painful history with the couple, having been her mother's previous lover, and after a falling out, being left for his own brother. He never lived that down, and though he was always the outwardly stoic type, the bitterness never left his tongue whenever he was forced to talk to his brother.

But it's not like he ever told Nawen about any of that.

He took the baby back to Merdelain, to the small village of West Harbor, where he'd spent most of his life and hunting career. He was reclusive, quiet, distant. When he was in the house, it barely felt like he was really there, the occasional floorboard creek or sound of sizzling fire in the kitchen being the only alarms to announce his presence. It took her a while to learn how to properly talk, and most of the practice wasn't done at home, you can be sure of that. He tried his very best to maintain his life exactly as it was before she came into it, providing her with the bare minimum to keep his guilt at bay while spending most of the time away from her sight. All she learned about her parents came from old letters in the attic- a chest hidden away in the wall, behind the cobwebs and earthy smell of dust that covered long untouched memories. She found things she could only assume- or hope- were her mother's, along with the letters half eaten by termites. Once she learned how to read, she pieced together the story of a wealthy woman from the big city in love with a mysterious man living alone in the swamp. That was all she knew of her mother, besides a fantastical image she built of her in her head to fill in the blanks.

Her uncle never found out about her ventures in the attic- or if he did, he didn't care enough to scold her about it. She grew up learning from the villagers, learning from the swamp, from ruins and old books, from everything else but him, and wishing he'd sometimes sit at the table with her and have more to say than one-word answers. That he'd look at her and not just at the bowl of food in front of him. But he was never one to give her what she wanted.

As a teenager, she walked out of the swamp with a troupe of other misfits and troublemakers she called friends, and never looked back.

After getting roped into something that would lead to the worst years of her life, she decided to send a letter to him. She was now in Athkatla, tucked away in her bunk bed in one of the Shadow Thieves' headquarters, her eyes red and puffy from crying, and she wrote him a letter telling him how *good* her life was. That she was doing incredible, she was going to get rich, and she would never have to live in a backwards swamp, covered in mud like him. And no thanks to him, of course, because he was never there for her anyway, because he was a failure and nobody wanted to be around him and that's why he was alone now. It was bitter, malicious, she wanted to hurt him and twist the knife. She wanted him to feel the way she felt.

He answered with the most predictable, yet disappointing answer. He briefly told her he was glad she was doing well, and that he was doing fine. Nothing much besides that. It was barely an answer, she was surprised he even bothered to write the words down.

About a decade later, at what she would see as the lowest point of her life, she started writing another letter. This time, she apologized. She said she was angry and bitter, that she wasn't thinking straight and didn't really mean what she said. It was a really nice letter, especially for her, and she even politely asked how he was doing and about the state of the Mere and the village. But she never sent it. She reread it later and scoffed, thinking herself pathetic, that even after all these years she was still a naive little girl desperate for her uncle's attention. She burned it and put the idea out of her mind.

Her relationship with him has always been distant, she can't see it realistically being any other way, if she could even consider that they have a relationship at all now. And she's not sure if she would like to have one. Maybe some things are better left in the past.

#bg3 #tav #asks #sowwyy this took a while #I wanted to play around w the art & writing and try a few things #ended up going back and forth w a lot of this but I'm happy with what came out #I love the ruins drawing the most but the second answer is my favorite #it's long ik I. had a lot of words in me fjckkckc #parents amirite. eesh #oc.nawen #nawenlore

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nvrcmplt · 14 days

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🌟 for tyler and nebka

Tyler and Rider :: damn, can u say room-mates that fall in love, any faster? i hate how nice this is, tyler's just so pro-rider it's mad. these two are like that couple someone finds on instagram and speculates them datin' cause they just always in each others back pocket. the fact rider keeps visiin' tyler even when he's been summoned by someone else in a different part of the city, hello??????

i love them, personally, the friendship and wherever it'll go for them is so good. i dunno if it's love but it's defo a platonic nature that's tyler got feelin' in his heart for rider, the attention and snooty attitude that gives in for him? yeah that makes him feel stupid special so he's smug about that but also the fact that rider doesn't treat him as some second choice in the sense of askin him about his life and magic talents. even if ty's not up the standard rider remembers in his life, he ain't like 'ya shite at it mate, better stop yeah?', instead he's just 'ho-oh that's how it is, okeydokey' but still asks questions anyway so ty can feel good explainin' his livelihood without judgement.

rider also being welcomed by the shop is a b ig thing cause ty's usually the one going out to places cause the shops so picky and protective of his company. trust is massively heightened on that alone so ty doesn't have to hide a part of himself with rider at all. their friendship atm is just so sweet, the closeness, the skinskip, the teasing on mutual sides, the magic talks - it's like the perfect sleepover mixture but for two grown ass adults at any time of day.

the genuine connection these two have make me happy. wherever it goes i'm ready, tyler's ready and rider's ready so we'll see what the future holds for them both.

Nebka and Pharaoh :: guardian monster's devotion to his born duty but also the growin' adoration of his pharaoh's interactions with him. not just a trophy beast but also a monster worth the pedastal to show his pharaoh's power and strength? fuck yeah i love this.

nebka's duty to ozy is out of this world, like ride or die kinda beast. he's got nothing else in his dna but serve ozy and keep him safe alive and dead, he has no end of contract here. that last ask though did explain a bit about how my sphinx is gunna work, born with his pharaoh's rise and dies with them once they are laid to rest. guardin' their tomb with curse and sand from their bones - buring them from the world until they've walked the threshold of the next life at the god's side.

i love the idea that ozy and nebka are the only ones that are able to converse, nebka's noises are not that of a human faced beast to those outside of the royal bloodline, he just makes lion sounds to their ears which makes sense for them to be in awe and flinch in his bestial presence. nebka can't talk to other beings outside of the pharaoh's blood so like even his wife, nor zateros could converse with him. zat's got a bit of a cheat though bein' a beast herself, she could translate enough for a one-sidedish conversation if she had too. but outside that nature, it'll be something hard to try and eavesdrop on them in the temple.

also like the idea that ozy will be the only one to ask of nebka to use his wings for whatever reason. he has no need to use them much for himself now that he is in the temple and at his pharaoh's side so for nebka, his wings are a mere decoration to show the connection of Ra and Horus to the Pharaoh's power.

also just came to be now, what if nebka's got a one in five chances of taking on his pharaoh's pain if it came toa fatal blow, eg; ozy bein' harmed that sudden pain for transfer to nebka wherever he is out of the mystical power of being the pharaoh's guardian. no matter the severity of that sudden switch, nebka could 'die' in ozy's place if his time wasn't meant to be. that'd be painful.

#ardenssolis #« ( Nebka ) » HC.#« ( Tyler ) » HC.#» | × | Tyler&Rider || Meeting You Feels Like Walking Into A Dream ||

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peace-coast-island · 2 years

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Diary of a Junebug

If only there’s a spell to ward off all your troubles away for good

Spooky season doesn’t officially start until Jack comes in with all the new decor to set the mood. By chance, Shara and her friends were in the area so they decided to drop by for a couple days to chill out before heading home. I’m glad they finally got to meet Jack before he left so it was fun seeing them all together being enthusiastic about spells and such.

Shara’s been going through a lot so I’m glad that being at the camp has put her at ease. Accompanying her are Francesca and Alessia, both who I haven’t hung out with in person in a long time. I know Francesca visited the camp a couple years ago, but I can’t recall if Alessia ever did - she’s not too sure herself. The three of them spent a couple weeks in Fairridden Heights doing an investigation and while that went way better than anticipated, it was frustrating, to say the least.

For obvious reasons Francesca can’t go into too much detail about the nature of the investigation but part of it involved an infamous dragon who basically ruined a promising warlock’s life. She described him as the kind who’s all talk but no substance, so you have to take everything he says with a grain of salt. Though the details of what happened has grown muddled over the centuries, the general story was that he served as a guardian to a young warlock who was supposedly part of a prophecy to bring prosperity to a kingdom. It was through his misguidance that the warlock failed and the kingdom fell, resulting in the warlock pretty much shunning himself from the world while the dragon tried desperately to save face by digging himself into a deeper hole.

Shara, Francesca, and Alessia say they all feel for the warlock as they have their own share of trust issues, though thankfully not as extreme as his. It was by luck that Alessia found him - he had happened to hear that they were trying to make contact with the dragon and initially tried to discourage them for good reason. As it turns out, it was a good thing he reached out because he gave them an adequate warning on what to brace for when talking to that dragon.

From the snippets of the conversation with the dragon they shared, the warlock did them a huge favor. That dragon really is all talk and half his rambling makes no sense - it’s honestly a miracle that Francesca was able to pick anything substantial out of it. And with everything else they investigated resulted in a dead end, this was the best lead they were able to get.

As for Shara, the whole thing about resentment, refusing to own up to your mistakes, and constantly bringing up the past to make someone look bad really struck a nerve with her. But at the same time since she’s in a much better mental space so while that messed with her mood, it kinda helped her put into perspective on why some behave like that. I think it’s obvious who she’s comparing the dragon to.

In light of some family drama going on, Shara has completely distanced herself from them. There’s the Tanner situation in which her relationship with him has deteriorated to the point that he’s on the same level as her other siblings - estranged. I know she’s spent the past year trying to work things out with him but the more she stood up for herself, he responded by knocking her down and tearing her apart. It’s a shame because Tanner was the one who cared about her the most but the second Shara wanted to assert herself opposite of what he thinks is best for her, he flips out. And not only that but he’s tried to make others turn against her, which is kinda fucked up when you think about it, especially since he has a history of doing that to other people.

Overall, it seems like Shara’s family is the type who throws temper tantrums and guilt trips when they don’t get what they want. They pretty much don’t give a fuck unless it benefits them while harming those they consider to be inferior. If I were to describe them in one word, I think arrogant is the most accurate. Right now her second oldest brother, who she barely knows, is in the middle of a custody battle except he doesn’t really give a damn about the kid - he’s just doing it to exert control and make his ex mad. She doesn’t know all the details about that other than she hopes her ex-in-law gets full custody as she seems like a decent person who doesn’t deserve to be caught up in all that drama.

Shara says being a healthy distance away from her family has helped her see things more clearly regarding how badly they treat her and other people. She has admitted that she’s no saint and resorted to the same tricks they have, but unlike them she doesn’t seem to enjoy holding that kind of power over people. I think it’s because Shara actually feels remorse and guilt when she’s being manipulative so that’s what makes her different from them. She has her flaws - as we all do - but at least she has the awareness not only to take accountability but to also take the effort to unlearn that toxic mindset imposed on her.

Healing is a tough process and its progress is far from linear. It wasn’t easy for Shara to confront her problems but she took the plunge and despite what her family says about her, she knows that it’s for the best. Some may find her overly pessimistic or blunt at times but I find her straightforward. While she believes in choosing to be kind, she knows that it takes effort and no matter what your intentions are, you are still capable of fucking up. Sometimes you try your hardest and things just don’t work out so instead of lashing out, you just gotta accept it. I think that’s one of the biggest things that sets Shara apart from her family.

Francesca, similar to Aymn and Saffiya, strongly believe in the idea of doing no harm as they all know too well what it means to hold power over people. They’ve seen too many authority figures abuse their power, and were even indirectly complicit to some degree, so they fight to break that cycle. Francesca knows all too well how far some people will go to exploit and step on others just because they can, which was why she broke ties with her master. She’s still regarded as an enemy by certain mages because of that but no matter how much they threaten her, she refuses to do their bidding.

She’s come a long way since freeing herself from her master’s shackles, going from someone niche but relatively unknown to a potential threat against those who follow her master. Being adept at illusions and witchcraft has definitely put her at an advantage as it’s rare to find someone knowledgable in both fields. According to her, witchcraft is often looked down upon despite having some overlap, and that has more to do with personal history behind certain mages and witches. Truth be told, she says she could care less about all that - what matters to her is the freedom to pursue whatever she wants without causing harm to those around her.

Alessia also has her convictions for pursuing witchcraft, though it’s not because of personal interest or innate abilities. When she was 19, her parents were sacrificed by her estranged grandfather in a ritual gone wrong, which set off a chain of events that turned the town upside down. Alessia initially didn’t want to get involved at first as her main concern was protecting her younger brother. Then when she found out that her grandfather was the mastermind, she had to take matters in her own hands in order to prevent more incidents. It was her strong sense of justice that drove her to dismantle his cult and get revenge for the victims.

While Alessia is a certified expert when it comes to witchcraft and supernatural matters, unlike Shara and Francesca, she isn’t too invested in the world of magic. That’s not to say she’s a cynic or anything, it’s just she has a life outside of that and she prefers to keep it that way. In other words, she considers herself just a lawyer who happens to know a lot about witchcraft, so most witches and mages consult her for legal information, not so much magic related. While she does find witchcraft and magic fascinating, it’s simply just something she’s curious about, nothing more.

From what I gather, a lot of witches and mages have what you consider to be niche skills, knowledge, abilities…etc, so that’s why it’s valuable to find someone who is good at more than one thing. According to Francesca, communities were a lot more divided back then so it wasn’t until the past decade or so when they started branching out. Shara is unusual as she’s considered the jack of all trades, which is pretty much unseen or heard of in most circles. With Francesca she’s from a highly specialized group and yet she chooses to pursue a field that’s more generalized and looked down upon where she’s from. And there’s Alessia, who is neither witch nor mage but dabbles in that world while providing others with valuable information that I think most would overlook.

I’m always fascinated by hearing what motivates someone to become the person they are today, especially when they are guided by strong convictions. To think that Shara, Francesca, and Alessia would have never crossed paths if they hadn’t experienced life changing events that made them take the unconventional route. Especially for Shara and Alessia, their past selves never would’ve imagined how their future would turn out considering their lives pretty much took a 180. Life can be so unpredictable in that way.

After getting over the hurdle of a frustrating assignment, it’s only natural to want to unwind. Shara, of course, played around with making potions and spells. She’s working on creating potions to ease the mind and temporarily soothe anxiety. Though magic is capable of making the impossible probable, warding off all of one’s troubles away for good is a pipe dream. As much as Shara wishes she could make such a potion, you unfortunately can’t magic your problems away, so the best she can do is find a way to lessen the burden, even if only temporary.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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morpheousxo · 1 year

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Exalted Secret Santa 2022: Moonsilver Shmoogaloo!

Yay for another year of the Exalted Secret Santa! This is my fourth year participating! I hope you like my characters, whomever you are reading this to choose! The post below is mostly just a copy of last year’s, but for the addition of my Lunar Lass, Leinani, whom I am actually currently playing in a game. Have fun!

Character 1: Leinani Keli’i

Refsheet Page Leinani is a Full Moon Caste Lunar Exalted from a small island chain in the West. Currently she is in the North with her fellow recently Exalted companions. She is strong, quick, and tougher than most, even before her exaltation. Part of this is due to a blessing she received from a God she thought was a representative of the local big time Volcano God. Nope. She had to leave due to the grave insult, which eventually took her to Tusk. She has a strong sense of what is right, and has major problems with cheating in a competition. That changes when it comes to combat, though. After all, a hunter should use whatever they can to take down their prey.

Lisara has the dark skin of the people of the West. Her real world inspirations draw heavily from Hawaii. She has turquoise hair which is typically loosely pulled back with a leather thong, and bright turquoise eyes to match. She is a tiny terror, at only 4′10″, but she can stare down and intimidate those much larger than she is. She is only 19 years old, and has been away from home for 3 years, so her arm tattoos are not particularly extensive. Primarily on her right shoulder she has pacific islander style tattoos involving spears, a shark, and a turtle. When she was barely a teenager, she was attacked by a tiger shark while swimming. She got it to leave by bapping it’s nose, but not before it got a good hold of her midsection. Now she has tiger shark tooth shaped scars on the right side of her belly and back. Her Spirit Shape is that of the tiger shark. Her tell is Gills down the sides of her ribcage. Clothingwise, Leinani tents towards a simple strapless blue top and loose skirt that’s easy to move in. Alternatively, since she’s in the North, she’s bundled up in northern furs. Regardless, she carries with her a short spear topped with an alchemically-treated coral head, with decorative shells on a loop beneath. She also has a necklace with a tiger shark tooth and two turquoise stones set on either side of the tooth. The tooth was in fact left-over in her belly after the shark attack. Leinani is also a Sorcerer. She learned her sorcery from a Neomah. Her control spell is Virtuous Guardian Flame which manifests as a spear made of green flame.

Character 2: Cynis Lisara

Refsheet Page Lisara is a Fire Aspect Dragonblood who is currently estranged and thought dead by her house. She is currently traveling with a couple Solars and and Exigent around the Great Forks area of Creation. Lisara might be a Cynis who indeed likes to party and have a good time, she doesn’t quite live up to the stereotypes of her House in that she doesn’t go to great excess and isn’t alright with slavery. She’s a very compassionate person who cares deeply for her friends and will fight tooth and nail for those she cares for.

Lisara is of Wan heritage, meaning she looks Real World Asian in appearance. Her aspect markings are red slashes along her face and body reminiscent of tiger stripes, and as her Anima intensifies the tips of the stripes begin to glow yellow. Her iconic Anima Banner is a giant tiger made of flames.

Clothingwise Lisara tends towards the styles of the Blessed Isle when dressing casual. One of her artifacts, a body-suit of superfine Black Jade chain, is light enough and flexible enough that she can wear it under basically any clothing that it wouldn’t look horrible with. For weapons she typically uses a guandao or a spear. Eventually she recovers her Dire Lance Flamewhorl.

Character 3: Seraiah

Refsheet Page Seraiah is a Dawn Caste Solar Exalted who doesn’t like to talk about her past. She is highly intelligent and a brilliant strategist, as well as being a master with the sword. She is stoic and thoughtful, but tends to get too focused at times and ignores what is happening outside her focus. She has had difficulty dealing with reconciling her new form and her Immaculate Beliefs, but is very private about them. She is currently traveling around the greater Great Forks area with a small circle of Exalts making a name for themselves, of which Lisara is also a member. Eventually the two come together as a couple, though there is a great deal of tension between the two at first, due to their shared past.

Seraiah is of mixed heritage, being half Wan and half Prasadi. She typically wears her long hair in a high ponytail, but has been seen to let it down in more casual atmospheres. She keeps her right arm covered in soft bandages at all times, except when bathing. The bandages cover up the fact that her arm is covered in a mass of burn scars. She refuses to talk about it.

Clothingwise, Seraiah has a few stages of typical dress. Early in her adventures she is wearing basically whatever clothes she can find that fit and are comfortable. Being a wandering Swordswoman with no money isn’t easy. After finding her circle and beginning to make a name for themselves, she is eventually convinced to spend money on a more tailored appearance. Regardless of outfit, she almost always is wearing a Jinbaori with the personal symbol of Smiling Fox on the back. Smiling Fox is a wandering swordsman who saved her from a Wyld Hunt and took her under his wing shortly after her Exaltation. Most important to Sai (what another companion took to calling her for short) is her sword, Akaidal. It is not an artifact, just a standard mortal heirloom sword. It’s intended design is a cross between a talwar and a katana. She basically thinks of Akaidal as a person, and refers to the sword as he/him.

Please have fun with them! I can’t wait to see what you do!

#exalted #exalted secret santa

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alyssadeliv · 3 years

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The Forgotten One

First Previous

Chapter 3

Damian Al Ghul is the most beautiful baby Marianne has ever seen. Not that she’s seen a lot of newborns, but something inside of her knew no one would be as cute as her little brother. He was very tiny and that only encouraged her more than ever to protect him. Her mother thought it adorable, that if not training she was always at his side. Her grandfather thought it useful, like a bodyguard to protect his so expected heir. As a baby, he couldn’t do much yet, but she liked his company. It was rewarding to see him staring at her with those beautiful green eyes when she talked to him about her day.

They grew up together, so it was only natural that they would train together. Marianne loved it when they would train or fight together, it was another excuse to be around her baby brother. Since birth, he has always been very bright, and very skillful. He’s only seven when he is allowed a solo mission, and she remembers how she begged her mother to allow her to accompany him, just to make sure he’ll be alright. The punishment she received from her grandfather was enough for her to never ask again. But as Damian had proved more than capable to handle every kind of situation thrown his way, she wasn’t so anxious anymore when he would leave for missions. But that didn’t mean she didn’t worry.

Her mother and the guardians became more strict with her training after Damian was born, focusing more on fighting techniques rather than the knowledge of the Kwamis, that part she was already very knowledgeable about. And because of that increase in her abilities, she was allowed to train with her brother, when he was about six. In the beginning, their fight was never fair, with more years of experience, Marianne had an advantage. But as the years passed by, and Damian learned, it became more equal. When they fought together they were formidable, the synchrony and the precision of their movements was something fascinating to behold. You would think that because of their strong bond it would be difficult to actually hurt each other in a fight, but together they were ruthless, always pushing the other. They brought out the better in each other. Marianne could proudly say she taught Damian a lot, especially in the art of diversion and dagger fighting.

Living in the League meant that you could never be too careful, and trust was something it had to be earned. Relations were discouraged because they tended to make you weak. But for the siblings, having each other was their strength.

Even if both had their own room, it was common to find Damian sneaking to bunk with his sister or Marianne simply crashing at her brother’s bed after a taxing day of lessons. To everyone in the League, they didn’t have contact outside of training, and her grandfather made sure of that. He liked to call her his secret weapon, one that only his most trusted followers knew about. Being a very paranoid person, that trust revolved around 3 people, her mother, Sabine, and Master Fu. And she was sure that her master only knew about her because it was what created their alliance in the first place.

Like her, Damian wasn’t much better in the social department. He didn’t interact with kids his age, and all of his time was dedicated to perfect his skills. She was his one and only friends, but just like her, he wasn’t very good with words, yet she knew he adored her just as much as she did him. She was the heir to the Order of the Guardian and he the heir to the League of Assassins. They had duties to fulfill, expectations to reach, and people to please. It was hard, but at least they had each other.

Until they hadn’t.

She was sixteen and had just come from a long mission, all she wanted was to take a shower and curl into bed. This mission had been more taxing than normal, she was successful but it still took a lot from her. Ignoring her primal needs she made her way to the training grounds of the League, looking for her Master, to give him the mission report.

“Master” She greeted. Wang Fu had taught her so much, but she could see very clearly that her teacher was flawed. Even after years in this life, he had a very kind heart. He tended to be a very recluse, only interacting with people from the Order or the League if he had to. She was the only exception to this, from the years of training with him, she knew he had a soft spot for her. Most of the time he acted very naively, and that still bothers her thus this day. But where he was kind he was also very strict with her training. That’s why she always pushed herself, to prove to him that she was worthy of her birthright, to be the true wielder of a Miraculous.

It was already dark, and the League was quiet. Only the ones on duty would be awake, but it was common to find her Master meditating at all hours of the day at the Temple of the Miraculous. The temple was built by the order of her grandfather as a sign of good faith after the alliance between the two organizations was created, she spent most of her childhood there, reading the sacred tomes and connecting with her inner self.

“How was it?”

“Successful as always. I infiltrated the party without any problem and locating my target was easy. The tricky part was luring him out of the crowd. But I managed. Using the Chinese hairpin I infused the poison in his bloodstream, he was dead in a matter of minutes. The poison won’t leave any possible leads, and I obtained the information requested. I shall pass it to Grandfather at our morning meeting, he requested that you be present as well”

“Any witness?”

“No.”

“Very well… Go ahead and get some sleep. Tomorrow after our meeting you will be having another section of training with Lady Shiva, she was very pleased with your recent development.”

She bowed respectfully and started to make her way to the chambers. She could feel the sleep piercing through her, but she pushed it aside, she needed a bath before even thinking of going to bed.

She made it to the west wing of the League, where Damian opened the door after only two knocks, still in his sleeping clothes. At that time, she was the only one that would seek him out. He let her in without a word, and she immediately made her way into his bathroom. Being the Heir to the League comes with its perks. His room was bigger than hers and he had a bathroom all to himself. Compared to his room hers was rather simple, with a bed in the middle, a dresser, and a table with a chair. The Arabic aesthetic gave a stylish decoration to the plain room. His was more majestic, with a big bed with the most comfortable comforter she ever laid in and very well decorated. Only the best to the grandfather’s grandson.

She stripped and laid her weapons carefully on the counter. With empty thoughts, she enjoyed the warmth of the water on her skin, and only after washing her hair twice, she turned it off. Sometime during her shower, her brother had delivered some of her clothes. Because they alternated between their rooms, it was practical to just leave a couple of clothes in each other’s chambers, that way no matter when, they would always have something to wear. She left the bathroom only carrying two of her daggers, even in the comfort of her brother’s bedroom, she could never let her guards down. He was laying on the mattress, half-asleep, just waiting for her. As she neared the bed he lifted the covers to let her in. And as she laid there at his side, feeling the heat of his body near her, with one dagger on the side table and the other under her pillow, she felt at peace.

The peace was short-lived, however. She couldn’t tell for sure how long she had been asleep, but enough for her brain to be foggy. She bolted awake feeling another presence in the room. In one fluid movement, she grabbed her trusty dagger and went into action. She hit her target in one fluid movement.

“What’s going on?” Damian was also awake, with a sword in hand, staring wide-eyed at the body laid on the floor.

“Get ready.” And with that they both started to prepare themself, gathering their weapons and changing into more appropriate clothes. In a matter of minutes, they were ready. Before they exit the bedroom, she turns to her brother.

“Take it.” She hands him one of her daggers. It’s from a set, her favorite. It was a birthday present from Damian. Two handmade daggers, one was white and the other was black, it had the Yin and Yang symbols carved in the handle. Representing the balance between creation and destruction. It was perfect for close attacks and throwing. He takes the black one without a fight, by now he understands the seriousness of the situation. With caution, they left the chambers. Now they could hear fighting happening in the background. She knew what she had to do, go to the temple, access information and from then try to create a strategic plan. Damian would come with her, without knowing what was going on, it was safer to continue together.

They reach the temple without any problem, but there’s when things got problematic. A group of three people advances on them, two men and one woman all wearing black and covering their faces. She immediately goes into attack mode. Diving from the oncoming sword, puncturing the man tight as he attacked her, she analyzes the situation, his wound which does little to stop him is heavily bleeding. Because of her size, she could tell he was underestimating her, so she used that in her advance. She let him come closer, giving him a false sense of security, allowing him to believe her to be inexperienced. His sword makes contact with her left arm, and a red flow of blood makes itself known. Following her plan, when he comes close enough she grabs onto his torso and using his body weight throws him onto the floor over her shoulder. Once he’s down she reaches the dagger strapped onto her thigh and stabs onto his chest. Immediately turning her attention to the other two attackers that went after Damian she throws the dagger at the back of the woman, momentarily distracting her brother’s opponent. Grave mistake. Damian disposes of him quickly after that. After getting back her weapon, they keep their pace.

Now they could see various members of the Order and the League fighting different opponents. The floor is coated in red, and in the distance, it is possible to see the beginning of some fires. Seeing her home being destroyed broke her heart but there was no time to grieve. On high alert, they arrived at the temple. They meet another group of black figures, not even thinking she immediately engages one of them.

She can’t tell how long that has been going on, she lost sight of Damian and their enemies just kept coming, there is no sign of Master Fu or the Miraculous Box, so she can only assume that he escaped without any problems. The other guardians are by her side, trying to overpower the attackers. In the distance, some explosions begin, shaking the foundation of the temple. Some stones start to fall, and immediately their opponents start to evacuate mid-fight. Based on that it is not difficult to reach a conclusion. Their target was the Order, they obviously planned to explode it to the ground.

“It’s a trap! We have to leave the Temple, it’s going to crash!” With no hesitation she starts looking for Damian, she needs to find him and get him somewhere safe. It’s pandemonium, people running and screaming orders. Some bleeding and some already dead. It’s practically impossible to see with the smoke that found its way in.

When she finally finds her brother, it’s almost too late, by now a lot of the foundation it’s destroyed, and they would be lucky if they get out in time. They start running, Damian ahead of her. They were almost at the entrance but something in her, maybe her instincts told her that they would not make it. Using the rest of her energy, she focuses on her inner strength, gathering a bit of magic in the palm of her hand. With one fluid movement, she pushes all she has into her brother.

The impact of her magic sends him flying out of the building, into safety, just in time to miss the pieces of the temple falling down.

“MARIANNE!”

It's the last thing she hears before she feels the weights falling onto her body. For some minutes she feels everything, the burning pain in every inch of her body and the shallow movements of her chest.

But for the moment that didn’t matter, she was tired, and she knew she could rest knowing her brother was safe.

“Ahbk ya akhi”

Hope you liked this new chapter, it was a bit longer than usual. I’m not very good at writting about fights, but I hope it wasn’t terrible. Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!

Taglist: @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13 @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @iamabrownfox @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #i like this one! i think #does anyone else struggle infinitely with titling fics #i go with the randomest shit lol

759 notes · View notes

canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Ep 17 part one

(Masterpost of all the rewatches) (Canary’s pinboard of original content)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Inaccessible

Wei Wuxian hides in a boat among the lotuses next to a pier in Lotus Pier, the second-most-literally-named home in the show, after The Burial Mounds. This pier has a railing that goes all the way around it, without any ladders or anything. Not to be ADA on main but this means if you can't Jedi jump, you're fucked.

Hefeng Liquor

While Wei Wuxian waits and tries, not very successfully, to keep his shit together, he hears the guards talking about the local booze that they're going to drink at their murder victory party. We learn, in a desaturated flashback (that OP has done her best to resaturate), that this is lotus-infused wine invented by Wei Wuxian during happier days.

He kicks the flashback off with his favorite activity, Unnecessarily Erotic Beverage Drinking. (gifset) I’ve slowed this gif down so we can all appreciate the unnecessariness. The way his hand caresses that leaf OMG

Hopefully he is not drinking lake water out of that leaf. Side note: How is it possible that Xiao Zhan doesn't have a drinking water endorsement deal? I had to resort to Zhu Yilong's brand of water for this gag. I figure if it's good enough to pour directly onto a lightning burn like they do in The Lost Tomb Reboot, it's good enough for a leaf hummer chastely drinking out of a leaf

(more behind the cut!)

In his memory, Jiang Cheng tells him to stop fucking around and come help with the basket of lotus pods. Wei Wuxian responds by grabbing one for himself and then sitting his ass down and not helping. Cause he’s a motherfucking P.I.M.P.

Emotional Rescue

Wen Ning arrives on the pier with Jiang Chang, to Wei Wuxian's extreme relief. Look how much emotion Xiao Zhan is able to convey even with half of his face hidden, my lord.

Wen Ning carries Jiang Cheng on his back, in an echo of other significant piggyback rides in Wei Wuxian's life.

Wei Wuxian's relief is at war with his fear, seeing his brother in such bad shape. Remember, these are cultivators, who heal quickly and mostly don't get their asses beat this hard. The only time Wei Wuxian has been comatose was after the Xuanwu cave, and that was probably because of his prolonged contact with resentful energy/Yin iron.

Hibernating Zidian

Wen Ning gets ready for his first, but not his last, boat ride with an unconscious Yunmeng brother in it. He tells Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng is pretty fucked up but isn't dead.

Then he gives Zidian to him. Before we talk about Zidian, let's talk about BAMF Wen Ning. Wen Ning is an awkward goofball. He’s also insanely competent at just about everything--wine-drugging, dude-smuggling, corpse retrieval, dog acupuncture, drug pushing. As well as shooting rocks out of the air and, later, beating zombie ass, and resisting mind control. .

This is the foundation of their friendship; it’s not actually about Wei Wuxian being nice to the weird kid. He initially sought Wen Ning out for the same reason he sought out weird kid Lan Wangji--his martial skill. He accepts his weirdness and is protective of him because of his missing-spirit problem, but he did not befriend him out of altruism.

Wei Wuxian is so forgiving that he can smile fondly when looking at the weapon that whipped the shit out of him a couple of days ago.

Wei Wuxian puts Zidian down right next to Jiang Cheng's hand and...nothing happens. It doesn't recognize him or spark to life. This didn't seem meaningful when I watched it the first time, but rewatching...yikes. It KNOWS.

Wei Wuxian admits, with tears in his eyes, that there is nowhere safe for him to go with Jiang Cheng, and Wen Ning immediately offers care and shelter. Even though that is putting his own life at serious risk.

Life obligation is a common theme in CDramas. It’s often something a person chooses as a way of showing love. Guardian builds an eternal romance out of two people saving each other’s lives over and over. But accepting the obligation is a choice (in fantasy dramas, if not in real life). Love and Redemption has a gloriously harsh sequence where a life is saved, and the save-ee cooly rejects the saver.

Every time Wen Ning saves Wei Wuxian, he cites that one time that Wei Wuxian saved him from the water demon. And Wei Wuxian cites this rescue right here when he throws everything away to save Wen Ning. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng doesn't acknowledge any debt to Wen Ning at all, only--grudgingly--to Wen Qing. And people are ok with that.

Basically all this is to say that I think Wen Ning leans into this life debt because he loves Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian leans into it because he loves him back. Non-romantically, I think...at least on Wei Wuxian’s part. YMMV.

They go to pick up Yanli from their Granny, telling her to go into hiding. She starts to cry, not knowing how she'll manage on her own. Wei Wuxian tells her that they will come back, as Wen Ning looks super unsure about that.

Of course Wei Wuxian can't know, at this point, whether they will come back. Wei Wuxian always wants to make everybody feel better, and sometimes you really can't make someone feel better except by lying. He compulsively says shit that he thinks people want to hear, almost as if he was beaten frequently and arbitrarily as a child.

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational boat ride industry, as he rows the Yunmeng trio through some amazingly beautiful scenery.

Core Melting Time

Meanwhile, back at Lotus Pier The Yunmeng Supervisory Office, Wen Chao is hung over, Wen Chao is angry, Yawn

For some reason, Wang Lingjiao has suddenly decided to talk to Wen Chao in the most cloying and annoying way possible.

Also, the fact that she still addresses him as Gongzi when she is totally fucking him is kind of great. This is like those fics where Elizabeth Bennet calls Mr. Darcy "Mr. Darcy" even when they're married and hitting it.

Wen Zhuliu demonstrates why he's called Core-Melting Hand, by punishing the wine guard. He's able to melt a guy's core by grabbing him by the throat, and also picks him up, Darth Vader style, for extra meltyness.

All that stuff I said last time about Wen Zhuliu feeling ambivalent about being a villian...yeah, he seems to have gotten that right out of his system.

Chilling in Yiling

Wen Ning is doing his best for the recreational carriage ride industry. Wei Wuxian, after presumably several hours in the cart, decides that now is a good time to get curious about where they are going.

Here we start to see a new side of Wei Wuxian. Before this he was carefree, other than specific worries about his friends. He confronted danger with lightness and humor, or with temporary fear, that he let go of once the danger passed. Now, after all the deaths and seeing Jiang Cheng so injured, he's twitchy, anxious, and angry.

Very, very angry.

When he realizes that Wen Ning has brought them to the Yiling supervisory office, he goes off, demanding to know whose home this was before the Wens took it and grabbing Wen Ning and shoving him into a decorative...decoration. He thinks Wen Ning brought them here to harm them.

I wouldn't have thought such a pretty dude could be so menacing, but holy crap.

The way he's confronting Wen Ning here is not his normal style. He's not trying to provoke a bigger fight like he usually does; he's not trying to create distance, the way Jiang Cheng does. He's very intimate, getting right in his face and maintaining eye contact. He trusted Wen Ning and feels personally betrayed.

Shy little Wen Ning is remarkably calm when confronted like this. Wen Ning really isn’t afraid of anything, despite his general air of nervousness. (Full gifset of Angry WWX over here.)

He calmly and kindly explains the situation. He doesn't appeal to Wei Wuxian's trust, saying "oh I would never;" he appeals to his logic, which gets through to him.

Wen Qing comes out and the guards start banging on the door and Wei Wuxian flips out again, grabbing a sword and pointing it at Wen Qing as she decides what to do. Wen Qing seems unruffled by Wei Wuxian's sword pointing, and we see her weighing up the situation.

She makes her decision, sending the guards away and deciding to help the fugitives, officially joining the Clear Conscience Club. She could probably get Wen Ning out of trouble by turning them in, but she opts to put personal loyalty and her belief in her own ideals ahead of her family's safety.

Wei Wuxian is not ok. He’s just not ok. He tries to act like it after they get settled in with Wen Qing, but he's not, and I think that plays into his next several choices.

Next comes a whole sequence of Jiang Cheng being unconscious with pins in his head--ow--while Wei Wuxian twitchily tends to him.

This sequence is kind of unfair to Jiang Yanli. What matters to the story here is Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian's relationship, so that’s the focus of these scenes. But really, there is no way Jiang Yanli would not be at Jiang Cheng's side unless she was literally unconscious herself. Let's assume Wen Qing stuck a needle in her to make her rest while she has a fever. Shippers should also feel free to assume that Wen Qing spent hours at her bedside, tenderly wiping her forehead and holding her hand as she recovered. In his sleep, while Wei Wuxian sits by his side, Jiang Cheng calls for his sister, mother, and father, but not for his brother. Ouch.

Let's pause to appreciate Wei Wuxian's new outfit, which is the sort of getup most people in this society probably imagine Yiling Laozu wearing, rather than the low-key homespun stuff he actually spends his Yiling year in. This robe has fancy shoulders, shiny material, touches of Jiang purple, strange red hoody strings, and a fuckin' CAPE. He didn't bring any luggage with him from Lotus Pier, although he's still got his Yin Turtle Sword hidden in a bag of holding. So the most likely explanation is that Wen Ning hooked him up with this lewk. "Wei Wuxian is a nice person. He should have a magnificent cape."

Wen Wing and Wei Wuxian take a breather to stand on the porch and work out what their status is with each other, like a couple of fucking adults, which is amazing. Basically Wei Wuxian is ready to forget earlier Wen shenanigans, but is going to avenge Lotus Pier.

Wen Qing isn't enthusiastic about that but doesn't argue, just asking, mostly rhetorically, if he plans to kill her too. He's uncomfortable considering that; the role of avenger isn't one that's comfortable for him, although he turns out to be extremely good at it. He does not, of course, plan to kill her too. In a few months, imprisoned in a Wen dungeon, she will be the only Wen left alive after Wei Wuxian 1.5(No-Gold Edition) and Chenqing come to visit.

Jiang Cheng finally wakes up, and the first thing he does is to test out his spiritual power by hitting Wei Wuxian as hard as he can.

DUDE.

Look at Wei Wuxian's face, as he goes from happy, to shocked and hurt, to laughing it off. It's exactly like when Jiang Cheng shoved him in the Rock Lady temple. Has Wei Wuxian spent all of his years with Jiang Cheng going from affection, to hurt feelings, to pretending it's fine? God, I think he probably has.

This episode raises a question that will come up again later, but never be answered. That question is, what the fuck are these weird footies and why the fuck does Jiang Cheng wear them to bed?

Jiang Cheng reveals that his golden core is gone, that he can't cultivate any more, which means he can't avenge his parents or achieve any ambitions in life. Nobody has apparently given any thought to why Wen Zhuliu is called "Core-Melting Hand" before this, which is hilarious, frankly. If I fought with a guy called, for example, Brain-Eating Mouth, I think I would make certain assumptions about him and what he planned to do with my brain.

Something interesting is happening in this moment, because as he comes fully back to consciousness, Jiang Cheng pours out all of his trauma and horror to his brother, telling him about the core melting and practically wailing about his feelings over it all. And his brother understands, and ultimately finds a way to help him. What does Wei Wuxian do after his own trauma? Keeps it secret, so nobody finds a way to help him, although many people try to. So Jiang Cheng is, in this way at least...emotionally healthier than Wei Wuxian? That's unexpected.

Jiang Cheng is super upset and is mad at eternal scapegoat Wei Wuxian for saving him. Jiang Cheng would rather be dead than be a regular person. Whereas Wei Wuxian, faced with the same problem, is like, *shrug* I’ll adapt. These are both valid emotional responses to suddenly becoming disabled. Losing a golden core is definitely a disability, in this environment; it's not just about magic sword fights. Jiang Cheng's home is designed for people who can fly; Lan Wangji's home is designed for people who don't feel cold, and Wen Central is made of actual lava, for example.

Jiang Cheng is already struggling with a lot of difficulties. He was raised by shitty parents, he's got anger management issues, he has a crushing weight of responsibility. And now he's also lived through the deaths of most of the people who matter to him. If sword cultivation is the one thing that gives him joy in life (ok one of two things, obviously fashion also gives him joy because he WORKS it), he can't reasonably be expected to rally when it's taken away.

Oh, honey. Oh, baby boy.

Wen Qing picks the worst moment to come in and tries to tend to Jiang Cheng, who starts off being devastated that the girl he likes is seeing the wreck he's become, and then moves along to helpless rage when he remembers that she's a Wen, and he screams at her to get out.

Jiang Cheng is not able to put personal loyalty ahead of clan loyalty like Wei Wuxian is. Partly this is his nature, and partly it's his role as the lineal descendant of the clan leader. As a firstborn son of a gentry family, his destiny as clan leader is in his blood, and so is his responsibility to the clan. When Wei Wuxian praises Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen for caring less about bloodlines than about shared ambition, he is speaking from the position of someone who's bloodline ain't shit. Jiang Cheng will never be able to share that perspective.

Next: More of this excruciating episode!

Writing prompt: The Day I Discovered I Could Melt Your Fucking Core, by Wen Zhuliu Drabble prompt: Why I Wear Socks to Bed, by Jiang Cheng

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #wen qing #wen ning #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #the untamed spoilers

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years

Text

When it all falls down

Hi guys! The next chapter is here! I just wanted to say I don’t really have a update schedule so it will most likely be updated every few days. I’ve pre-written most of this fic (or at least planned it) so as long as I don’t lose motivation it will be completed!

Ao3

Story Masterlist

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CHAPTER TWO: The call from the catacombs

Warnings: threats, mentions of kidnapping & death

“I don’t need guards surrounding me constantly, father. I may be of royal bloodline, but I am no weakling.”

He was the crown prince and a trained assassin, yet he was babied similar to when he first arrived at the manor. His family smothered him.

After the coup he was taken into his father’s protection, and although he was born of his mother’s sexual misdeeds, his father treated him the same as his brothers. The first of his father’s charges that he met was Timothy Drake. Drake took part in Wayne Trading and became a successful merchant (but the majority of Gotham’s coffee supply mysteriously disappeared overnight). Then Damian met the Wayne clan’s eldest ward Sir Grayson, he was a famous knight in not only Gotham but Blüdhaven too.

He bonded with them along with his new sisters; Lady Barbara from the Gordon House, Stephanie Brown, Helena Wayne (his toddler sister by blood, conceived from his father’s Union with Countess Kyle) and Cassandra Cain. He had met Cain prior due to her mother being Lady Shiva, a close associate to his mother and grandfather. The reunion between Bruce’s third male charge and the young prince was awkward to say the least. During Jason’s MIA period of his life, he was ‘taken-in’ (aka kidnapped) by the royals and took on a guardian role for Damian (who was only a toddler at the time). The two silently conversed and as the tension faded it lead to constant rough housing and insults being thrown.

He lived and learned from his family until he was nineteen. At nineteen he had an argument with his father about his family’s smothering nature. Lord Wayne agreed they were being a bit much and lessened the security presence that followed his only blood son. After which he was promptly kidnapped by his mother and forced into an arranged marriage, to which the Wayne clan wasn’t even invited to witness.

And now here he was, months later, married and without the ability to contact his found family. Here he was drinking fucking tea with his ‘chosen’ bride. Not much had changed between the him and the bluenette, they were just two strangers joined by a forced union. There were no loving touches, longing glances, consummation of marriage or any connection other than a bond between respected acquaintances.

They communed under the watchful eye of the palace servants. “Spies.” Damian hissed, seething under his breath. “They are nothing more than rats feasting on gossip.”

Marinette sat across from him, posture straight as a board. The couple were separated by the cotton tablecloth that was decorated with a vase of lilies and porcelain plates. A small feast fit for at least twelve sat before the two of them, all were delicacies from across the country and beyond the borders. Her pinky pointed outwards as she sipped the piping hot moli longzhu, a playful smirk danced across her features.

“Your mother has made sure that they have nothing else to eat other than hearsay.”

Although he had been tempered by his father’s teachings, a fire flared within him. If anyone heard her it surely would be reported back to his family; the aftermath wouldn’t be pretty. No this wasn’t him protecting her, he was protecting himself, if someone heard her and it spread another ‘incident’ could occur. No matter the outcome, it wouldn’t end well.

Marinette tilted her head, raising an eyebrow at him, delivering a silent plea for him to challenge. He huffed looking away, her words were treasonous but true.

“You shouldn’t talk like that if you’d like to keep your tongue.”

“Aw, I’m glad to see you are looking out for me.” She quipped back, hand against her chest, mocking him. Her smile was wide and her eyes crinkled as she laughed. ‘Either she was insane or stupidly brave’ he thought as he watched her, ‘what had mother gotten him in to?’

“I’m looking out for myself.” He stood up and brushed off dirt from his garb. “If you make a fool out of yourself, it reflects badly on the Kingdom and I. You said yourself, you wouldn’t burden me through the bonds of matrimony, so don’t make this harder then it already is.”

She sat there in shock silence. Her jest was nothing more then that, she never meant it to cause him harm. She didn’t mean to burden him. She eyed him as he walked down the path. She sat in the pagoda, alone. ‘He was right’ she thought, ‘I need to be careful with my words. Not only for my safety but for my people also. I don’t want my actions to cause them harm.’

Later, when she finally saw fit to reenter the castle, she wandered the desolate hallways. League Castle held few materialistic decorations that didn’t serve a functional purpose. So paintings were no where insight. The only form of artwork she knew of was a sculpture of the late King, his majesty Ra al Ghul.

She looked down at the sculpture from a second story window. It lived in the confines of the royal gardens, atop a grand fountain display. She remembered hearing of the coup when she was just a child. ‘The King was killed and the prince was exiled’ but Lady Talia still ruled and the prince is back from his supposed banishment. It didn’t make sense. And for that matter why was a ten year old exiled in the first place?

Her arm was yanked, spinning her around to face the she-demon herself. The Mistress’ nails threatened to break her skin, they were sharpened and resembled animal claws. The woman’s dark eyes made Marinette uncomfortable, ‘she seems to be on the verge of being unhinged.’

“Come.” It wasn’t like Marinette had a choice, Talia dragged her down the hallways. She stumbled every so often as she tried to keep up with the woman’s strides.

The two came upon a dead end. The bluenette looked forward confused, and before she could even question it, the bricks separated revealing a dingy staircase that descended into darkness. Turning towards her captor, she saw her grab a nearby torch that lit the hall, a brick slowly slid back into place. They followed the spiraling decline until they reach the bottom, the air down here was moist and musty.

The fire only lit a few feet in front of them. They had gone from walls made of polished marble brick to decaying wood and cracked stone. The flooring creaked underneath their steps, the torn carpet was worn by those only travelling one path. She held her breath trying to avoid breathing in the damp air, mould growing at the corners of the walls. Realising she hadn’t said anything until now, the shock of Damian’s words and her abduction by his mother had kept her silent. “Lady Talia? Wher—“

“Hush child.” The venom dripping from her tone was the opposite of one used to shush a toddler, Talia’s hand covered Marinette’s mouth, silencing any objections; the heat of the nearing flame caused her to flinch. “You must learn your place.”

‘Did she know!? Did she hear me?’ Her silent scream reverberated through her mind. The seed of dread in the pit of her stomach grew vines that restricted her limbs causing her to stumble. Her heart clenched, it now felt made of lead and weight heavily within her chest. It’s beating was similar to a drum. But still the dragging continued.

They happened upon a room. Said room looked to be an older, more dilapidated version of the castle’s throne room. There were torn tapestries and fractured tables, it was like the souls of the ancient couldn’t escape this place fast enough. It’s whole atmosphere was eerie. “This castle was built from the ashes of the former empire.”

Marinette suppressed a gasp, she was right. Everything and everyone had told her she was wrong, she saw the shaking of their heads and heard them debunking her theories. The king was alive and the prince was never exiled.

The king was alive.

Taglist:

@thesunniestdays @jayjayspixiepop @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #daminette #When it all falls down #arranged marriage au #royal au

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bread-elf · 3 years

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DWC 2021 - Day 1

This story revolves around a side character deeply involved in Jiroki's backstory. For more context on this character, you're more than welcome to read from the beginning, somewhere in the middle, or his end.

Afterlife Shadowlands, pre Chains of Dominion “I love you. I’m sorry.” The last words spoken by Rydras Feathergrazer, his strength waning as he looks up at his most cherished beloved, who he had purposely distanced himself from for so many years. Now laying in her arms he watches the weeping face of the Kaldorei woman, sea green hair spilling out from the bun she had made before the battle. The wounds on him blistered with fel corruption and seared his skin, and he could barely breath as is. But that no longer was a problem once she had honored his last wish. Their hands intertwined together around the hilt of his own dagger, and he only feels a pinch before he lets himself slip away with ease. And yet, he opened his eyes again. Blinded by the luscious blue forests of Ardenweald, he finds himself amongst protectors of the forest, both present and past, for he gave his life for the Wilds. And that was worthy enough to become one with the great forest beyond.

A new purpose given, and no longer in the mortal realm, he reformed himself. No longer Night Elf, no longer Rydras, he chose to glide through the forest as an Owl, once a favorite form in life. But now he embodied it, another soul amongst hundreds of thousands to serve the forest. He knew of other souls who lived here, such as Arileath and Sheradal, a couple who once treated him like a son, parents of once a dearly beloved of his. Both now at peace, guardians as well for their duties. Years pass for the living as the dead remain secluded. Though the Owl had anticipated eternal peace, a drought begins in his precious forest, and the Drust soon follows. Strange times indeed, apparently even the dead can still live in vain. And what’s more, mortals from the living world begin to slowly spill in, doing everything in their power to keep the delicate balance of the Shadowlands intact before all is ruined. Some souls steered clear of the living, as did the Owl. Having no need to interact with them, nor did he want to be reminded of the flawed emotions of the living. And each time he found himself watching any of the living, inklings of curiosities and old faces beginning to surface, he reprimends himself and widened the distance of his past self. Even now, up high in his chosen roost, he finds himself shooing away the past as another soul scurries up the tree in haste. “Spriggans! Spriggans!” The soul in the shape of a squirrel, though the Owl is familiar with this one. “Spriggans attack the mortals!” “And?” The Owl rarely spoke, but he chose to do so to regard the squirrel. “Why are you here? Go and tell the Wild Hunt. There is nothing I can do.” “You were asked by name!” The squirrel lingers near the edges of the Owl’s nest, trying to be respectful, but still urgent. The Owl’s head swivels hearing that, but the soul continues to speak. “And for Arileath and Sheradal! A mortal you all know!” “What-?” The Owl feels something inside of his stomach and chest. A sudden clutching of anxiety, and fear. “But-” The squirrel seems to have no other information to offer, suddenly scurrying back down the tree and leaving the Owl alone. Large wings spread, and the Owl now finds himself sweeping through the forest once more to find this mortal. Only a few faces come to mind who would know of all three of these souls. Faces that the Owl had worked hard on dismissing. If their time comes and they come to Ardenweald, then he would welcome them. But who knows if they were alive or elsewhere in the Shadowlands, and he had already accepted he would never see them again. And now the wall he had worked so hard on began to crumple, memories of his former life beginning to trickle in. Of his dear friend Brethilon, of his time as a druid, with his Shan’do Arileath, the way he had denied himself of her for so long. Much of Ardenweald had decayed away due to the drought, so his scope to look around is much smaller, for better or for worse. Though he spots the familiar souls of Sheradel and Arileath, both bears, regarding a being made of living flesh and bone. An elf like he once was, tall and proud but shaking with emotions, sea green hair spilling down to conceal her face as she wept. Something lurches inside of the Owl, his flight faltering as he quickly makes a landing. Though he had no heart, it was like he was still in his mortal flesh and something squeezed it, and for the first time in ages he felt the desire to run. For a moment he scrambles, clumsy as an owl on the floor and feeling out of breath, and in his desperation he takes on his spiritual elven form and uses those legs to run. A ghost from the past, Rydras Feathergrazer stops at a hard halt once Jiroki is just yards away from him. The last image of her burns inside his mind’s eye, her moonlit eyes weeping and filled with sorrow as she puts him down like a dog. Though as the woman turns, she is different than he remembers. Scars line her cheek and ears, her tangled hair decorated in a way he’s never seen before, those moonlit eyes now the dark side of the moon. But the way

they widen, how she reels back in shock, the sudden tension of her body; the way that only she can move that he remembers. Jiroki clasps her hands over her mouth, already beginning to shed tears as she once again see’s the face of her first love. Even Rydras feels something stinging at his own eyes, though he had no means to cry. But he feels a surge of emotions inside of him; so much love, so much regret, so much grief. No longer thinking straight as a jumble of words come into his mind, his chest and head feeling like they’re about to explode, and so he lets it all out like a flood.

youtube

“I’m in love with you!” He blurts out words he could never make himself say until the bitter end, and that causes Jiroki to create a shocked and confused expression. But he will never have another chance. “You heard me!” Jiroki blinked back tears, trying to process this sudden occurrence between the two of them. He is the first to turn her into a woman, and also to break her heart, yet also the longest love she has ever had, will ever have. And after killing him, after living with her biggest regrets all these years, he stands before her now speaking this. In his desperation, he continues. “I’m in love with you!” Hands come up to grip the sides of his head, as if trying to prevent it from splitting open. “And I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable! And that we’re all doomed...” His hands throw out to the surrounding forest of the Afterlife, slowly withering away. “And that one day, all of our labors will be returned to dust! And I know that the sun will swallow the only earth we will ever have!” And then he looks at her. “... And I’m in love with you!” Suddenly the energy is sapped out of him, his confession finally spoken after all this time, and weakly his arms fall. “... Sorry...” A strangled cry escapes Jiroki’s throat, no longer able to bury it. She feels like throwing up, but she endures, just so she can run to him. The reaction is unexpected to Rydras, but he himself runs to her as well, and they embrace as best they can as soul and mortal. Her body trembles and she cannot stand, so he slumps to the ground with her, both on their knees as they weep together. Though no longer living, Rydras feels his insides tearing up as he mourns with her, at the loss they both share, yet there’s something else mixed in. He can finally be at proper peace, for he told the woman he loved his feelings. @daily-writing-challenge

#stories #Youtube

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jungnoir · 3 years

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destiny | 09;

⇢ summary: you’re just about ready to give up on life altogether; your love life is in ruins, you’ve lost your job, and your family couldn’t care less about you… and then you meet your blushing guardian angel, and maybe life isn’t so bad after all.

⇢ relationship: jeon jungkook/reader, min yoongi/reader.

⇢ genre: supernatural, angel!au, demon!au, romance, thriller.

⇢ words: 6.5k words.

⇢ warnings: mentions of depression, violence, vomiting. slightly nsfw toward the end.

previously | next

a/n: happy new year! I know it’s been quite a while (literally an entire year since I’ve updated) but I’ve had this chapter pretty much ready in my drafts and just hadn’t gotten around to finishing because. everything. regardless, I hope this sort of makes up for it. love you all! hope you’re doing well. also WOW I swear a lot in this one.

His hand on your neck is meant to silence any screams that might slip out. He applies the perfect pressure to avoid crushing anything vital (and just by the feel alone, you know he’s got quite an amount of strength to pull that off) while simultaneously stealing all your air and forcing you to cower in fear. You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know this guy isn’t someone to be fucked with, and all you can think about is the fact that Jungkook is right outside and has no fucking clue what’s going on. The very thought fills you with dread.

“Then again, you’ve got someone helping you.” What once was just a particular, calculated press against your skin becomes a deliberate act of violence as he begins to choke you harshly. You know the pain of his grip might last for weeks, and that’s only if you don’t die in the next minute. “Just makes me wonder what’s so special about you.”

“Nothing!” You rasp out, clawing at his hand now in some weak attempt at breaking away. If you could make enough noise, enough commotion, surely someone-

-but the stranger has already stopped you quick. You aim to throw the door open or something but his free hand quickly apprehends you until you’re just a squirming mess on the verge of passing out. Even your legs are pressed firmly to the wall by his own body, holding you fast so that you can’t help letting a few tears fall. There was no doubt in your panicked mind that this was Seokjin, the angel who’d been trailing you from the shadows for what felt like centuries. His grand act of approaching you, something you’d dreamed up to be a major climactic brawl in a battlefield made for a spectacle, turns out to be so simple. Perhaps that’s what you got for thinking biblically. Why go through all the trouble when he could just squash the problem the minute a chance presented itself?

Now, all you can think is “I can’t die like this”. A sobering thought of pure contempt. Drowning in the river was preferable to this.

You muster what breath you can, eyes blazing, “How does it feel… being God’s lap dog?”

Seokjin is, funnily enough, stunned for a moment. All bravado slips through a teeny crack in his demeanor when you say that, and even though it’s a low blow, it’s also enough for you to thrust a semi-powerful kick to the dressing room door to make the entire thing shudder like an earthquake. That sound, coupled with your comment, makes Seokjin release you in a panic. You hear some gasps from outside, a few people inquiring if you’re alright. An employee sounds most worried amongst the voices. You’re just shy of swinging the door open and forcing Seokjin to be revealed or to disappear all at once, but then he’s grabbed the back of your collar as you scream in frustrated fury. Seconds later, you’re no longer in the dressing room anymore.

Instead, you fall flat on a rough, sandy surface. You’re overwhelmed with nausea, pain, and fear, so your whole body is struggling to pick up on the most important things outside of that, but you do realize quite fleetingly that it’s sweltering. It takes you a few seconds as you curl up on the ground to peek behind your hands that shield your face and discover that it’s blindingly bright where you are, almost like a…

For fuck’s sake. “Of all the places…” You whine with a sore throat, coughing right after from the strain.

Seokjin stands above you and uses his foot to kick you onto your back so that you’re staring up at him and the baby blue sky. His hair color plays against it in an unfittingly gentle contrast, “I thought we might need somewhere safer to discuss things. Oh, and speaking of discussion,” he waves a hand near you and you instinctively flinch back before you feel the pain in your throat subside. You wait a few seconds, but it seems whatever he’d just done had no effect on the rising bile in your throat, so you assume that’s something you’ll have to deal with on your own. What an ass. “Feel better?”

“Fuck you! Maybe if you hadn’t choked me out in the first place-”

“You’d have listened?”

“Maybe if you hadn’t hunted us down to kill us, we would have!”

Seokjin frowns, “I didn’t bring you here to talk about you and that boy, I brought you here to talk about you. I am only concerned with you.”

Whatever that entailed did not sound good in the slightest.

You scramble to your feet and immediately regret the movement as it makes you sick again. The more than 100 degree weather does nothing to fix that either, the sun beating down on you and bouncing off the dusty white sands directly into your eyes. You’re feeling something nasty rising up from your stomach, ready to projectile…

Just as the scene changes, you paint a Victorian rug with streaks of your vomit.

Seokjin immediately groans out loud, placing a rough hand at the back of your neck like one would grab the scruff of a kitten. You’re far too weak to protest, rubbing at your mouth with the back of your hand, so you let him toss you into a chair. The jerkiness of the action should have sent another eruption out of you, but you recognize the relief that has overwhelmed you from the touch of his hand. Had he fixed that too?

“Never the matter,” the angel growls, waving his hand and making the mess evaporate from the very fibers of the rug, “you’re all very fragile. I should have prepared you first.”

“How can you do all that…?” You couldn’t recall Jungkook or Jimin showing off any power like that, and whether it was because of Seokjin’s status or their modesty (and adherence to rules), you were unsure. Most likely both.

Instead of answering right away, Seokjin reaches forward a moving cart and you finally notice there’s a glass pitcher of water (hopefully) next to an array of empty glasses. You take the time he spends pouring some water for you to examine your surroundings.

It looks like a secret room in an old English manor house. The walls are painted a deep charcoal and with the absence of natural light, you could mistake it for the void. The only light that does exist is a strangely dim white light coming from the ceiling. What looks like a rather ornate shell of a skylight (sans the window to actually reveal, well, a sky), seems to hide said white light somewhere in it. It’s such a vague glow that you can’t pinpoint if it’s coming from a lightbulb or magic.

The rest of the room is just as ornate as the “skylight”, filled with deep oak bookshelves, golden artifacts, and shining decorations that already look like they cost more than your house. It doesn’t really matter the longer you think about it. All of it has to be an illusion… right?

A glass is placed into your hand and you break out of your thoughts to make eye contact with Seokjin. He hovers over you with narrowed eyes and when you look back at your surroundings again, you notice all the little decorations have disappeared. Why had he- “We can negotiate those bits of the deal later if you so wish.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask, hesitant to drink the water despite how much the heat of the desert had made you crave it.

“Like I said before, I brought you here to discuss you. I’ve been watching you and lover boy for a while and it has become clear to me that you’ve been pulled along for quite the ride. I’m sure it’s all very daunting.”

“It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t shown up.”

“How much do you know about our Lord and Savior?”

It was tricky to say the least. You’d grown up on tales of him, an over-powered being of immense stature. No one could come close to him, not even the devil. However, you’d learned bits and pieces from Jungkook, Yoongi, and the others to the point where your ideas of the figure had become skewed. There was no linear understanding of him. You honestly had no idea, “Probably not enough.”

Seokjin huffs, taking a seat from across from you in a chair similar to yours. Crossing a leg over the other, the angel stares you down, “Do you know why I’m after you both?”

“You want to kill Jungkook. Because he committed your sin.”

“Jungkook is my main target, yes, but it wasn’t my sin. My sin was sullying myself with a demon. Jungkook’s sin was sullying you.”

You frown, “He did no such thing! You had a fucking child! Jungkook saved my life!”

“You mean to say he ruined it. You were supposed to be dead a long time ago.”

You’d known that much, Jungkook had told you already. Even if he hadn’t, that had always been the plan. “It was… it was my choice and I wanted it then, I admit it. But I was hurt. I was overwhelmed. I wanted it because I was scared there would be no reason to keep going.”

The angel angles a brow upwards, “And the fallen was that for you? A reason to keep going?”

“It was- it was a lot of things. I was reminded that I existed, and that there are people who can love me the right way,” frustrated at the situation, you glare at him, “what the fuck? Is this some fucking therapy session?”

He has the gall to smile, “God knows you need one. I’d like to be the one to get inside that mind of yours.”

Shit. What if you’d given him just the right information to use against you?

You snap your lips shut and sink back into your chair, bubbling with more dread. He notices your sudden resolve and appears to want to ease your worries, “I’m not doing this to break you. Unlike God, I find you, as a person, quite redeemable. A gentle, pained soul who fell victim to the perversion of her guardian angel. It’s all very sad.”

So God did think you were a lost cause. Jimin had been right after all. However, you don’t want to keep talking when you’re so close to getting the information you’ve been waiting for. It seems even Seokjin isn’t fazed by your silence, continuing on without missing a beat. “You see, usually these angel and human matters can be chalked up to the angel getting too big for their britches. They think they can change things like fate: God’s very flawless plan from the beginning. They are simply… glitches in the matrix, you could say? That’s where I come in. I make sure these issues are handled and that everything goes back to normal. You see, God loves his humans. Truly. He has a bit of a temper, but it’s justified, you know? He loves you all so very much that seeing you stray from a holy and righteous path is heartbreaking for him. He can only excuse so much.

“So he doesn’t. But… sometimes I help him. I change his mind. Even Jesus had to convince God not to blame his executioners. The big guy gets real impassioned about those he loves. It’s all part of the territory of being in heaven’s sovereignty,” at this, Seokjin shrugs, “you were an unfortunate casualty of it. However, I brought you here because I think that you could be saved. You’re simply confused. I’m sure I could convince God to rethink... his punishment for you.”

Your eyes widen, nearly dropping your glass, “He’d do that?”

The angel nods, pleased, “Of course! After all, he just wants you to repent. If you show that you will, well, I could put in a good word for you. He and I are very close.”

“But only for me.”

Seokjin’s smile dims some. He was so sure he’d had you on the hook just then, “Well… yes. There isn't much I can say about angels. Humans are born sinful, but angels are born knowing better. If they succumb to sin, I cannot do anything about that. But… if you feel that you’d be leaving Jungkook behind, and if that would cause you to feel guilty, I can assure you that that would be taken care of. Your memory of him would be wiped clean and you’d receive another guardian angel in an instant. You’d be granted everything you ever wanted. You’d be able to live out a new path of life contrary to the one your fallen so selfishly carved out for you.”

At this, you begin to frown deeper than you ever have. It’s not out of confusion but deep, deep understanding. Seokjin’s deal was asking you to sell Jungkook out and in return… he’d make you happy. You’d forget all about what had happened and carry on a new person, virtually safe. You could only assume that meant forgetting Yoongi too. Everything you’d accomplished so far would be rearranged until the you that you’d become would be so unfathomable you wouldn’t ever consider it.

What scares you the most is that you actually consider it.

This all could end right now and you’d get out alive, maybe all the ordinary people you knew would get out alive too. You’d be completely removed from the situation. You’d just have to forget Jungkook.

“You asked me how much I know about God,” you start, thumbs twiddling, and Seokjin perks up, “the stories humans told of him always kind of scared me. He’s so powerful… he knew everything before it was even created. Nothing can get past him. And yet, he let humans have free will and the right to choose what their path in life would be. That part always boggled my mind. God’s supposed to love us unconditionally, but if we don’t return the favor, we suffer eternally. It seemed like a pretty big plothole in the otherwise ‘flawless plan’ you claim he made.”

“Yes, well, it’s not God’s fault that Lucifer’s so conniving.”

“But it is. Isn’t it? God created him. Lucifer is the one who brought sin upon the world but God is the one that created him. If he knows everything, why make him in the first place? It’s a fallacy,” Seokjin’s eye twitches just a bit as you lean forward, “that God knows everything. Isn’t it? He wouldn’t be so stupid. He had no fucking clue what he’d made when he made Lucifer.”

“I’d watch your tone. God hears all.” The angel’s ominous reply is all that you need to hear. He doesn’t tell you that anything else you’ve said is false or not. Of course not. You know as well as he does that you’re spot on.

You’re so stunted by the arrogance of it all that you have to laugh, “Allegedly.”

In that same moment, the white light above begins to flicker. A distant rumbling sounds from somewhere and that fear you’d felt earlier comes back with a vengeance. Seokjin looks annoyed, if anything, “I only have so much time to sit here with you to chat.” He stands up and walks over to you, seizing you by the arm, “So I’m telling you now that you still have a chance. No one else has to die. Do me a solid and make that a reality.”

Did he really not want to kill you? He’d had so many chances to. Even now, he could just… what did you have that made him hesitate? “You think I believe that?”

The ground rumbles underneath you and then you fall through, Seokjin’s grip slipping off your arm… or maybe being pried off.

Where you land next isn’t as disorienting as the last few times, but it doesn’t feel any better to be ripped away again without so much as a warning. For a moment before you land, you halt, almost floating. Then your feet make contact with stone and then your knees follow under the sudden press of gravity. A quick look around tells you that Seokjin is nowhere to be seen… and that where you are looks vaguely familiar.

The stone continues up the walls to the ceiling, creating a naturally cold room that expands no more than the size of a restroom (no toilets in sight, however). The furthest edge of the room from you is completely dark, while the other is helped by a fire stretching from one long, narrow wall to the other. There is no wood crackling beneath it though, nor is there an actual controlled area for it to burn. Flames simply lick up the bottom of the wall as if commanded by magic. While the rest of your body feels chilly, the warmth of the fire keeps your head warm like a fever.

You lay crumpled up on your knees and hands, staring into the flames with the most bemused expression, wondering what to do now. You’re definitely not intent on travelling to the other side of the room in fear of being met with something sinister you can’t see, but the fire only illuminates so much of the place and there doesn’t seem to be a door in sight. If Seokjin wasn’t here, you doubted this was a place he wanted to be.

Maybe he was torturing you? Intending to keep you in a dark, scary room in order to break your resolve? You didn’t know the extent of power he was allowed to wield but this whole transportation thing was starting to get really annoying. You chance a meek, “Hello?”

Your voice doesn’t echo like you expect it to. It sounds like it’s right up against your face, like you’d spoken into a pillow, the sound eaten as soon as it came from your mouth. Where the hell were you?

“...not exact, okay?!”

You pick up on a voice to your right and turn over with such speed that you land on your ass. Some stones move on the narrow wall, and then the room is illuminated from an entirely different source of light. It takes you a few moments to gather your bearings as your eyes attempt to adjust. Voices are frantic and coming closer, you can hear that much. You pick up on one instantly, “Jungkook.”

Your voice is weak with relief just as he comes into view. He looks an absolute mess as he throws himself at your feet and wraps you up into a bone-crushing hug. The strength of his hug doesn’t even bother you as you cling back with just as much force, grateful tears beginning to gush out of your eyes. You didn’t realize until then just how terrified you’d been, really. It was always there underneath the surface, but something about Jungkook’s sudden presence makes the reality of it all hit much harder. He smells like your shampoo still.

After a couple of minutes in his embrace, you pull away to examine his face, “Are you okay?”

He laughs and the way his tears have clogged up his throat make it sound more like he’s choking, “Who cares about me? Are you?”

You smile, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, “Better. With you here. Where are we?”

“Limbo, hell’s limbo.”

You’re not sure what to say in response to that. After what you’d been through in the last… however long it’d been, that seems the most plausible to you. “Is that like purgatory?”

“No,” another voice speaks from above you and only then do you realize that Yoongi is here too. He looms over the both of you but his gaze is fixed heavy on your face, “purgatory is where the dead go on their way to heaven. This is where the living come on their way to hell. Was a hell of a ride trying to get your ass down here.”

“Yoongi…” You peel back from Jungkook and stand up, a little wobbly as you lean against the wall, “...thank you. How did you do it? The places Seokjin took me… I felt like we were in a dream.”

His upper lip ticks up in a snarl, “It was. The place where you were is a void, heaven’s version of limbo. It’s where angels bargain with humans on the edge of death to repent. It’s an open playing field for angels to present themselves to their humans without them having to be dead or breaking a rule… not like the latter really applies to Seokjin, though. It’s only as strong as your will to be there,” with that, Yoongi reaches toward you and brushes what feels like sand off your cheek, or perhaps he just meant to touch you to make sure you were really here with the way it lingered, “and that’s the only reason I could pull you out.”

It was a lot to digest. You still couldn’t totally understand how he’d pulled you from heaven’s limbo if he was a demon, but that was beside the point. Right now, you just wanted to get out of this creepy box of a room for good. And it seemed you would be getting your wish.

Another figure became clear to you through the doorway, though this figure looked much more intimidating than the two by your side. Dressed immaculately with a sly smile that felt strikingly familiar, a man makes his way into the room, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing his head to you, “He had my help too, of course. A pleasure to meet you (Name), I’ve heard very little about you.” The man holds out a hand to you and you can feel both Jungkook and Yoongi stiffen on either side of you, but neither makes a move to stop him. This had to be another demon, no doubt.

You take his hand and shake it firmly despite your nerves, “T-Thank you for your help as well. May I ask who you are?”

The man grins wider, “You can call me Lucifer. Are you hungry?”

An entire array of human food is set out before you but you don’t have much of a stomach to touch any of it, though Jungkook seems right at home as he fills up his own plate. You can only guess he’s enjoying the hell out of having so much food at his fingertips without having to pay for it.

You can hear his delighted sound effects from the left of you as you both sit on one side of a long table. Lucifer sits at the head of the table to the right of you, also refraining from really eating anything. Yoongi sits right across from you on the other side with an annoyed expression on his face, fingers tapping the heavy oak table top in a rhythm you can’t decipher. It couldn’t be any more awkward.

“No appetite?” Lucifer asks, pointing to the food. There’s meat and vegetables and cheeses that you know and don’t know but none of it seems particularly appetizing to you at the moment.

You shake your head, “No. Actually, I have a few questions I’d like to ask you.”

“Ah, bet you’re bursting.” He chuckles and takes a swig of something you think might be wine. “Go ahead. I’ll try to recap the last couple of days as well as I can.”

“Days?!” You don’t mean to yell, you really don’t (especially not at the king of hell, but-), “It’s been days?”

Jungkook stops chewing to give you a concerned look, “Of course… how long was it for you?”

“Barely… half an hour, maybe more? But not days.”

“Yes, well,” Lucifer sighs, tucking his hands together in front of himself, “time works much differently in heaven and hell than it does here. Especially for those who end up in heavenly limbo. It’s essentially cut off from the rest of the universe which makes it that much harder to track those who end up there. Seokjin was smart in bringing you there than somewhere else on earth.”

Your head is throbbing at this point. If days had gone by, you could only imagine how much had changed since you’d been gone… “So… what has happened since then?”

“Apparently quite a bit, seeing as I was a last resort.” Lucifer’s tone almost sounds irritated. Like a petulant child, he glares over at his son with an unspoken tension that you would like to delve into much, much later when the important things have been moved out of the way. “These boys have been pretty busy trying to get you back. But we are all eager to know what happened while you were with Seokjin.”

Jungkook places a gentle hand on top of your knee under the table. For whatever reason, you note that his grip feels stronger than you’d grown used to. You’d thought the hug was just because he missed you so much, but even this simple touch was- “He… he found me in the dressing room, cornered me there and told me he’d been trying to get me and Jungkook alone. Somewhere he could really do some damage.” You recite all that you readily remembered, some details slipping as you focus on Jungkook’s touch. Yoongi’s eyes never stop boring into you. “He said a lot. He… he said he wanted to give me a second chance.”

Lucifer raises a brow at you, “At…?”

“Life. He said that if I… if I ratted out Jungkook, he’d work things out with God to set my life back on track. Memories wiped, a new guardian angel, the works.” You can feel Jungkook stiffen next to you.

“And did you take him up on it?” Lucifer inquires.

“No! No, I would… I would never. But he was so insistent… It sounded like he really wanted me to say yes. I don’t think he was planning to betray me if I took him up on it either.”

Lucifer heaves a heavy sigh. Folding his hands underneath his chin, the king of hell spares a glance at Jungkook, “He’s got a thing for innocents: those he believes did no actual harm in a situation. He’s always been soft that way. He has more of an affinity for humans than I ever did, but I have more reason to loathe humans than he does, so I guess it’s understandable.”

“He did… mention that none of this was my fault.”

“Of course! You were only following the path life laid out for you. It was the fallen angel you have beside you that decided to shake things up, and aren’t you lucky he did? It doesn’t surprise me one bit that you’re still alive. You’ve done nothing but suffer the consequences, it seems, against your own will.”

“But what about the demon he fell for? Or his child? Weren’t they killed so he could keep his spot in heaven?”

Lucifer leans forward, “I’m assuming your friends haven’t made it known to you yet, but they aren’t dead. They are both very much alive. In fact, the child in question was one of the people that helped in tracking you down. The mother… she is here, in hell, meant to stay imprisoned for all eternity. Or at least until the rapture,” with that, Lucifer drinks again, maintaining eye contact with your shocked stare, “but it was best that no one knew of their whereabouts. Only a handful of people even know that Inhui still exists. It’s become something of a legend amongst the demons and angels, shrouded in confusion. None of the angels would care for the mother, but the child would start an earthly war if they knew one still walked the earth. As far as they’re concerned, the child probably died from the natural complications of being an abomination.”

You frown, “How is that possible? An angel for every human on earth… that’s billions of angels and no one has even noticed the guy?”

“I was wondering about that, actually. He told us that he’d been walking the earth for a while now. Surely someone would have taken notice, right?” Jungkook speaks next, having abandoned his food entirely.

Yoongi snaps out of his bored stance, “Tae’s an anomaly. He’s forgotten everywhere he goes. His impression barely lasts long. Those people he encountered early on considered him a dream, or a hallucination, or a possession of the mind. His actual presence is… hazy. It’s easier to remember him by his name or his number, but everything else is-”

“Intangible.” His father finishes with a flourish. “No ordinary angel or demon could ever put a face to the name, only a feeling. Along with the rather excessive amount of glamours he employs when amongst the public, it is no wonder no one has sounded the alarm. Go ahead and recall his face in your mind, fallen. I’m sure you couldn’t piece it together even if you wanted to.”

Jungkook’s face screws up a little as an attempt, stricken dumb moments later when he can’t utter a thing. Your stomach churns at the thought, soiling your appetite even more.

It seemed like there was more to that story than you were being told, but you imagined that it would be quite a lot to relay to you in more than one sitting. After all, you still had no clue what you’d missed since you’d been gone, and it only hadn’t terrified you senseless because you were at least certain that the biggest threat to everyone’s lives had been right there with you the whole time.

“If you’re not planning to eat anytime soon, is there anything else you’d like to know? It’s not every day a mortal like you gets to talk to Lucifer.” With a small flourishing wave of his hand, Lucifer smiles at you, charming as ever. It was so strange. Yoongi acted nothing like his father, and yet you saw every bit of him in his expression.

You imagined Yoongi felt the need to distance himself as much as he could from his father’s intimidating image and had ended up creating his own in the process. Where Lucifer was inviting, however, Yoongi was… not for everyone. Even as he stares over the table at you, eyes hooded with what appears to be indifference rather than lasciviousness, you can’t help but see the other in him.

“I suppose not,” you murmur, “but now that I have the chance, I don’t really know what to say.”

Lucifer continues to smile, “Don’t fret! I’m sure after the doozy you’ve been in, you’ll need to rest up. You’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel it’s safe to go back topside.”

The thought of treating hell like a hotel to stay in was tickling to say the least. The minute you rise, Jungkook follows suit, nearly knocking his chair over in the process to follow you. “I’d appreciate that. Is there… perhaps a room I could cool down in? Maybe a bathroom?”

Lucifer had deposited both you and Jungkook in a rather nice room, fitted with all the things you’d find in a nice resort room overlooking somewhere like the Bahamas. The dark, brooding colors of Hell follow you even here, and what little light you are allowed in the room comes from fire or mysterious ambience. Still, it’s enough to splash your face with (what you’re definitely sure is) water in the ensuite bathroom.

Jungkook sits at the foot of the bed, watching you, “I missed you.”

Since the moment that the Lord of Hell and his son had left you to your devices, you’d become increasingly aware that something was off about your angel. You had imagined that it had been from the sheer worry he felt over you, but it was starting to feel different from that. Something not so easily explained. If only… if only you could figure it out.

You pat your skin dry and look over at him, measuring him up and down. Appearance wise, he still had the same haircut, same clothes, same shoes. It was the aura that felt different.

Slowly, you approach him from the bathroom and wish that there would be more light in the room to examine him with. In that same moment, what appeared to be a ray of warm light halos above you both, giving you exactly what you had wished for. When Jungkook looks up, he looks… radiant. “I missed you too…” You whisper, reaching out a hand to cup his jaw. At your touch, he shudders, melting into you, and those eyes then laser focus on your own. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He answers without hesitation, then turns to kiss your inner palm with such a sensual drag of his lips that you grow hot instantly. The surprise makes you yank your hand away and you swear you hear him whine at the missing contact.

“Y-You just look different.” You squeak, holding the aforementioned hand to your chest as if he’d burned you.

Jungkook’s bushy brows furrow. “Do I?”

When Jungkook had been an angel, he’d had a distinct glow about him that set him apart from others. It was cliche, but it made sense then. You knew that you were dealing with someone from another world. When he’d turned human, he’d felt softer, normal. He didn’t glow in any particular way lest the light hit him through the window just right. But now… that glow was back. In a way that didn’t feel familiar.

You reach your hand out again, but this time you let it wander. You push his fringe back from his forehead, then behind his ear, then down his neck to where a sweatshirt hides his collarbones. In a daze, you fall to your knees before his seated frame and push the fabric back some. You find… nothing. You don’t even know what you’re looking for. A vampire bite? What is so different?

Your hand starts to fall mindlessly as you wrack your brain, but it’s all for naught when Jungkook catches hold of it and intertwines his fingers with yours. His grip is warm and solid. But it’s still- “I thought he’d hurt you.”

You look back up into Jungkook’s eyes as he now leans over you with an intense stare. His hair curls around his cheekbones and twists away from his face at the nape, each strand fluttering as he inches closer until the longest ones are touching your face. “Not much. He healed what he did anyway.”

At that, your angel’s eyes narrow in their scan over you, “What did he do?”

You instinctively swallow. Perhaps because you remember the feeling. Perhaps because Jungkook looks like he could kill. “He… he had to get me to limbo. He had to…” You touch the skin of your throat the same moment you break eye contact, feeling the ghost of Seokjin’s fingers there. It wasn’t so long ago that it had happened after all. You could honestly still feel it.

The silence grows until it’s nearly unbearable, you eventually finding that Jungkook will say nothing while you continue to avoid his gaze. Against your better judgement, you chance a look up at him.

You don’t get very long to look. Jungkook takes both sides of your face and lunges forward like a man possessed and you are forced to follow. In your surprise, you stumble back onto your elbows and Jungkook slots himself between your legs, latching onto your lips in a searing kiss. It’s hot and fast and immature, the kiss of a person who has never kissed before and may never get the chance to kiss again. Youngho had never kissed you like this.

A gentle whimper escapes your mouth but Jungkook inhales it into his own. You feel something primal burn inside you when Jungkook growls out, crouching over you now like a predator cornering his prey, and he’s practically consuming you when you start to kiss back. Can you blame yourself? You easily fold into the feeling because it’s Jungkook and goddamn if you hadn’t wanted to kiss him badly before.

His inexperience does very little to dissuade from how good it feels too, and as you start to take over to guide him, he is all too eager to feel your reciprocated passion. The heady feeling he gives you in his sudden attack pushes all thoughts of Seokjin or the last few days out of your mind like a fast-acting asprin. All you can think of now is how tightly coiled you’d been and how Jungkook is loosening you up one press of his lips at a time.

He lays you on your back and you happily oblige, no cushioning found on the hard floor but you couldn’t care less. Jungkook is careful not to be too rough, aware of your needs as much as his own, and it’s jarringly sweet the way he cradles the back of your head to keep you from hitting it on your descent.

When he’s had enough of your lips (as if he could ever), he starts attacking your neck. He’s lapping at your skin and biting away as if he’s trying to remove all traces of Seokjin’s hands… as if he’s replacing the feeling with him and him only. “I’ll kill him,” Jungkook whispers, a foreign fury in his voice that makes your haze disappear in an instant while he continues to work at your neck, “I’ll kill him for ever touching you.”

Your hand shoots to his hair, feeling your heart beat faster from more than just the kisses, “Kook-” But any attempt at sobering up washes away when, to your surprise, he ruts against you. Youngho had never been that good at using his hips like that either. There was something definitely off with Jungkook.

As much as it pains you, you grab at his hair and yank back, ignoring (or trying to) the filthy groan that he gives in response before peeling away from your skin. You gasp for breath, absolutely winded, “What is going on?”

Jungkook pants past wet lips, “What do you mean-”

“Did Yoongi do this to you?” The sudden heated moment is over when you say that.

Jungkook’s blood has run cold. You have a very strong, haunting feeling that your mounting suspicions have proven correct. His eyes… as gentle as they always were when they looked at you, told you everything. He was not the same Jungkook you’d come to know. Something had happened to him. Something irreversible. You touch his face again and this time Jungkook does not move to embrace it. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. “Why?”

In an attempt to escape your pitiful gaze, Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, cutting you off from seeing him vulnerable any longer. It breaks your heart the longer he stays silent. There’s no denying it now.

A tear of his touches the palm of your hand instead of his lips this time, “How else could I protect you?” He chokes, weak, “I’m not your angel anymore. I can’t be like you. This is the only way... the only way I could stand to look you in the eyes again.”

#majwrites #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook au #angel!jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts au #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi au #demon!yoongi #min yoongi #bts #jungkook angst #yoongi angst #angel bts #demon bts

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causticchaos · 2 years

Text

Dawning Light, Pt. 3

“O, little Light, look how you scurry. Run, run away, and in such a hurry. But no matter where you run, no matter where you hide, you need not worry... I'm right behind you, you're mine, no matter how burry . Wake up, O Indebted Mine. It’s time to wake up.”

I jolt awake, sweat streaming down my face as I wildly look about the ship. Esteban is asleep in the driver’s seat, while his Ghost, Rosa, steers the ship. Sugar’s nestled in my arms, tucked against my chest, but she floats up at my stirring, and looks into my eyes. “Shug? You okay?”

“I... Yeah, I think so.” No need to worry her. Maybe it was just a dream. After all, who uses the word burry? Nevertheless. “Guardians dream, right?”

“Yeah, of course hun. Just ‘cause you’re a Guardian doesn’t mean any huge changes, aside from you can now wield the Light, you don’t tend to stay dead, and you’re not gonna age.”

“Thanks, Sugar.”

She nestles back into my arms, and makes an acknowledging hum. I lean back in the seat, and sigh. At some point, Esteban threw a blanket over me. I feel... safe. Well, as safe as I can. That voice still worries me.

Rosa glances towards me, and lets off some electronic chirps before speaking. “We’ll be at the Tower soon. Esteban fell asleep shortly after conversing with Claire. Or, should I call her Sugar now?”

Sugar barely lifts herself from her spot in my arms as she replies, “Sugar’s fine, hun.”

Rosa giggles, going back to the controls and focusing again. I stretch out, and Sugar huffs a little as she lifts out of my arms. She floats over to Rosa, and the two begin talking quietly as I stand. It sounds like they’re talking about the ship, and how Rosa likes it.

I walk around some, trying to get used to being on my feet aboard a ship. Surprisingly, it's not that difficult. I assume there's something helping me keep my footing. The cockpit, where Esteban, Rosa, Sugar and I are sat is comfortably cozy. There’s two seats with sets of controls that come out from a compartment in the ship’s dashboard. Currently, only Rosa’s set of controls are active. Through a door separating the cockpit from the rest of the ship, the bay of the ship. There’s another small door to a makeshift living space, which is mostly just a bedroom/bathroom set, but I didn’t feel comfortable taking Esteban’s bed, and he didn’t want to leave me alone. Said New Lights sometimes have night terrors, and he wanted to be nearby if I needed him. As I walk towards the doorway, I give his sleeping shoulder a small squeeze, and duck through the doorway to the rest of the ship.

The bay is a nice area, if I’m honest. It’s mainly used for boarding, but Esteban mentioned that sometimes, Guardians decorate theirs. With a small, self maintained atmosphere, there was never any real worry about dumping furniture or the like outside when the ship was open, even out in space. My host has spared no expense on this area, either.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you just walked into someone’s small home. An L shaped couch sits in the middle of the room, with a large ottoman tucked into the nook of the couch, both taking up most of the room. A small, wooden end table sits next to the couch on one end. The couch itself is a nice maroon red, and the end table appears to be made of redwood. There’s a carpet under the couch, giving it a very homey feel. Grabbing a seat, I look at the art he has hung on the walls. A couple of tasteful scenes, a mountain with a lake, a beautiful tree in a forest, and a couple of... well, still tasteful, but more risqué pieces. A simple silhouette of someone's lower half caught my eyes, and I couldn't help but tilt my head and stare.

"Ah, a particular favorite. A long term partner gave me that piece. She was quite a piece of art, herself.". The voice coming from the door made me jump. Somehow, I'd missed the door sliding open. Esteban came and sat next to me, stretching out on the couch as he did so. "She was wonderful, but alas, it was not to be. She wanted to settle down, but my heart yearns to wander."

I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but, as often seemed to be the case, couldn't find the words. Instead, I looked at Esteban, whose arm was now outstretched behind me across the back of the couch.

I won't pretend I was comfortable. But I also can't pretend it wasn't nice. Esteban was certainly handsome, and a very attractive man. But he was also so much smaller than I. It made me nervous. To add to the nerves, I was barely, technically speaking, a day old. As I thought on this, my mind started to drift, and spiral into terrifying directions. The usual "Who am I?", followed by "What would I even like in a partner?", "Am I gentle, like Sugar says?". It definitely doesn't feel like it. I feel large, imposing, and brutish. I look down at my hands, and it's at this point that Esteban retracts his arm. I can only imagine my confliction was obvious.

Nevertheless, he stood, stretching again and yawning. "We're landing, mi amor. It'll be good to get some sleep in a proper bunk, not that the bed in here isn't nice, but..." He looked at me, and winked. "Sometimes having company is better.".

I take a moment to appreciate Esteban's features as he gazes at me. His soft, almond colored eyes are practically little lights in his face. His skin is sun kissed and dark, with a small covering of 5 o'clock shadow along his jaw line. His messy brown hair is cut short, but allowed to run wild. It looks to have been a few weeks since his last trim. His strong brow line and high, soft cheek bones, along with his squared jaw give his face a long, angular appearance, with a striking nose, set above his soft looking lips. A light, black mustache, where it looks as though he were growing it out some, give him the sort of appearance you'd expect our of some cheesy romance novel, wherein he'd scoop up the love interest onto a horse and ride across the beach, towards a sunset. I can't help but sigh dreamily at him, causing him to wink, and grin.

"Careful amor, you might become my next target if you're not careful. You should rest, and become better acquainted with yourself, before you go looking for someone to break your heart."

I nod, sheepishly, and that just makes him laugh. He grins again, gently patting my shoulder.

"You're honest to a fault and very expressive, Tea. Speaking of breaking hearts, I fear you'll leave a string of them broken if you don't watch yourself!".

As he says this, we can feel the ship gently touch down. The hatch opens on it's own, and a ramp extends down, leading into a cement grey hangar that's buzzing with hustle and bustle of Guardians and non-Guardians alike. A pair of medical staff in scrubs jog up the ramp, and wave to us. An Awoken woman and an Exo, remarkably androgynous. The woman speaks first.

"Esteban! We'd heard your group had a New Light and an odd rescue case. Everything okay here?*

"Why, yes amor. Everything is just fine, here. Thankfully, our boy Tea here didn't have too much trouble, in spite of waking up in Vex territory. No gunshot wounds or anything beyond what his Ghost could handle."

She sighs in relief, and gives a small smile. "Good to hear. The rescue seems to be alright, as well. Just a little tired. Jesse landed with her in the next spot over, if you'd like to say goodbye before we whisk her away for a medical check."

Esteban shakes his head, and yawns. "No, that's quite alright. She seemed tired, I am tired, I fear we're all a bit-"

Before he can continue, the woman spots the painting I'd been staring at earlier. She makes a small squeaking sound, and turns a suddenly very sharp glare on the man.

He holds his hands up in a defensive manner, and shrugs. "A work of art I don't wish to forget, amor. Works this beautiful belong as centerpieces."

Her face visibly changing to a deeper crimson, she closes her eyes and clears her throat. "Yes. Well. What you do with your decorations is your business. But I'd figured you'd have something like THAT in the bedroom."

Esteban's face turns into a mischievous grin, his eyes taking an almost devious glint to them. "And deprive my guests of the piece that held my heart for two sweet, delicious years? Never, mi amor."

The Exo was beckoning me, and smirking at the exchange. I begin to move towards them, looking away from the pair in a vain attempt to hide my smirk, as evidenced by Esteban laughing at me.

He claps his hands, and gestures to me as I am leaving. "Well, our New Light friend certainly enjoyed the piece!"

The woman shoots a look at me, the sharp edge to her gaze still there. Quickly, almost too quick for me to catch, she looks me over. "Yes, well, just because someone can appreciate a good piece doesn't mean some restraint shouldn't be shown on the display of said piece!"

The man laughs again, putting his hands on his hips. "Obviously, mi amor. Otherwise, you'd run around naked, more often than not!"

The conversation continues as the Exo and I slip down the ramp. Sugar suddenly swoops up to me, bobbing with laughter. "Those two made a cute couple. Even better exes, oddly enough!"

The Exo laughs, and nods, their laugh is deep, and yet, I still can't determine feminine or masculine. Even when they speak, their voice somehow seems right in the middle, and even when you think you decide on one or the other, it starts feeling like the correct choice is neither.

"They were cute together, for sure. It's just too bad Esteban can't seem to stay tied down for long. I'm Al-4, by the way. You're Tea, right?".

I nod, in response, and Al grins. "Big, quiet, and mysterious. Ooh, Hunters are gonna love you."

A short while later, I'm in the medical bay, being overseen by the same woman from before. Her skin is a soft, lavender purple. Her long hair sits in a ponytail, the blue of deep water, and her eyes are a vibrant pink. If eyes could be described as such, hers are gentle and thorough in her inspection of me. I feel as they scan every inch of me, before she nods, satisfied, and makes a note on her chart. She runs a few simple tests on me, heart rate, blood pressure, everything. She even admits most of them are redundant for Guardians, as they never seem to come back in any condition but perfect , but at the Tower they'd rather be safe than sorry.

I find myself staring again. It's strange, but these people, their kindness, it's... It almost feels too much. She catches me staring, and smiles a little.

"Woah now, big guy. Let's get you through your first day, and maybe later we can see about dinner or something."

My cheeks catch fire, and she laughs. Her laugh makes me smile, despite the embarrassment. She winks, and pats my back, urging me off the table.

"You seem excellent, no surprises there. You're uhh, healthy. A perfect specimen of a Titan, to be honest."

That gives me pause. Sugar hovers just over on the counter, watching me, and I look back to the woman.

"First question, your name?" My voice startles her a little. She blinks a few times before her smile returns.

"My name is Sydney. Good to meet you, officially, Tea."

I smile, and shake her hand as she offers it. Her hand is soft, and small in mine. This seems to catch her attention as well, because I can't help but notice she's staring at our hands, now. In an attempt to bring her back to reality, I continue.

"Second question, I've heard them named, but I think Sugar missed the explanation of the different kinds of Guardians. So, I'm a Titan?"

It works, and she seems to snap back. At the same time, Sugar floats close, and speaks first.

"Oh, hun, I'm so sorry! I forgot entirely."

"It's alright, Sugar. Coming back and making it to safety is a feat on it's own. Lemme fill him in."

Sugar nods (Well, bobs in what looks like a nod), and Sydney clears her throat, before turning the page on her clipboard, a blank page behind the chart she'd been using.

She draws three people. One is large, and she draws a shield, a hammer, and a lightning bolt next to it. One is small, and she doodles a little hood and cape on it. Beside it, she draws a bow and arrow, a straight line that she mutters is a staff, and a gun. The next is mid sized, wearing a wizard hat. She draws an odd swirl, a lightning bolt again, and a sword. Showing me the chart, she explains.

"The Guardians are split into three classes. We have our Titans, the large brick wall types, like you. We have our Hunters, quick and nimble, typically scouts or runners. Then we have our Warlocks. Yes, I know I drew a Wizard hat. You're gonna have to get over it.". We both snicker at this. "They're the most... Direct channelers of the Light. They're support, I guess. They tend towards healing, empowering, and sometimes massive fits of destructive energy." As she says this last bit, she seems to be pointing straight at the odd swirly vortex looking sketch.

I nod. Makes sense, so far.

"Then we have the subclasses. Each wields the Light, but it can be refracted in different ways."

"Uh oh, Shug, she's busting out the big words. Brace yourself." Sugar teases. Sydney smirks, and I roll my eyes with a smile.

"For Titans, there are the Shield, the Hammer, and the Arc Titans. Shield types can typically create a dome or summon a shield made of Void energy. Hammer types can summon several small, or one large hammers, made of fiery Solar energy. Arc Titans typically channel Arc energy into their fists and drop on their enemies. Yes, literally drop on them. It tends to end in an electrical explosion. Lately though, I've heard there's some who channel pure Arc energy and somehow focus it through their body, and treat their bodies as a missile? You'd have to see it to believe it, to be honest."

Noted. Shoot self at baddies. Doesn't sound so bad.

"Hunters have the Bow, and a pair of Daggers, made of Void again. The Bow can be used to lock enemies in place, or at least slow them down. Plus it hurts a LOT to get hit by it, or so I'm told. The Daggers can make them turn invisible? Honestly, I'm unclear. That one's a little new, too. Next is the Golden Gun. Solar energy poured into the shape of a gun, and fired in a concentrated blast. Sometimes though, they turn all that Solar energy into a bunch of small knives they fling all over the place. Thank the Light no one has to clean up THOSE messes. Then there's the Arc staff. It's uhh... Pretty self explanatory. Shocky staff."

I quirk a brow. Sounds neat. She continues.

"Lastly are the Warlocks. Void tends to- uhh, become a large ball of Void energy. Arc tends to... Ah, become lightning hands, or a beam of Arc energy. Think Space Wars, or Dragonorb X."

I have no idea what Space Wars or Dragonorb X is. I choose not to say this, as I feel as though I'm in for quite a long discussion if I do.

"Lastly, the Warlocks have the Dawnblade. It's a blade made of fire, that they can either swing at their enemies or stab it into the ground and make a circle of healing. Don't ask me how it works, because I've asked a few Warlocks and I still have no idea."

Fair enough.

"I... Think that's everything. Any questions?"

Surprisingly, I'm able to shake my head with confidence. She smiles and claps her hands together.

"Excellent! Now, I'm gonna have to kick you out. Cute as you are, I've got patients that need tending, and you've got a date with Commander Zavala and the Vanguard. Now, go on, get!"

With a chuckle, I hop off my seat, and she follows me to the door, shooing and flapping her hands at me. As we reach the door, I turn around to say thanks, but she has her hand oddly placed next to her head with her pinky and thumb out, winking at me.

"Call me sometime, big guy. See you around, I hope."

And with that, Sydney closes the door behind me, and I'm left in the hall. Blushing, confused, and Sugar laughing hysterically at me, I can't help but feel that I've been teased. With a small shrug, I continue off towards my meeting with the Vanguard.

#dawning light #destiny #new light #fanfic #part 3 #destiny 2

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unprofessional-bard · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1 - Small Beginnings

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

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Pairing: Joel Miller × Female!Reader/OC

Summary: Joel, Ellie and the reader start their month long journey to Jackson. Although it takes time for the reader and Joel to get to trust one another, things develop quicker with Ellie.

Word Count: 5.668

Warnings: Canon typical violence, detailed description of bloodshed/gore and death; PTSD related events and some sexual tension ;)

Author's Note: Here goes another part of the series! There's this one bit where the reader and Ellie are sleeping, I was kind of inspired by that one scene in the beginning of Lady Bird where Christine and her mom are sleeping, so... Anyways I hope y'all like it 🥰

Enjoy!

Moving out of Carmel and Indiana altogether to Illinois was quite the challenge but it didn't take you all too long to reach a city named Peoria. The route Joel had picked was crawling with infected and you had to take detours to avoid them, barely having any time to rest; but when you reached the city in question, it turned out to be awfully quiet there. Although Joel knew you were special forces, he was impressed with your precision and combat discipline - but of course he kept it to himself.

"The weather is getting colder," Ellie commented when you all settled down on a secure, empty house- the sun was beginning to set.

Before you left the building in Carmel a few days ago, Ellie had fetched Kurt's backpack while Joel and her were collecting some ammo from the room he was held in. You couldn't look at your teammates' dead or infected bodies, you couldn't dare - it would've been too much to take in all at once. All you had asked of Joel and Ellie was to close their eyes if they were possibly open, and waited for them at the other end of the hall, crying quietly. Joel gave you your rifle (it had your name on it and it was left on the same table as Kurt's backpack) and Ellie handed you Kurt's bag with his stuff in it.

"I thought you might want to have this," she had said with melancholic eyes.

You smiled and thanked her. She clearly wasn't aware of who Kurt was and what he meant to you. He had his famous jacket and blade rolled up in the bag, a few supplies and ammo and finally, a picture of both of you on the front pocket. He was like a teacher and guardian to you, you wouldn't have survived this long if it weren't for him and knowing he was no longer with you destroyed you, stabbed you in the guts and made you feel sick. Of course you had to swallow it all down and wait until either you reached Jackson or met your maker on the way.

"Hey, why don't you wear this," you took Kurt's jacket off and tossed it to her. "It should keep you warm at night."

"What about you? You're more exposed than I am," Ellie objected as you were still in your undershirt. It had more blood on it than it had while you were in Carmel.

"I saw a clothing shop around the corner," you smiled and grabbed your rifle from the table in the living room. "I'll swing by quickly, see if it still has some clothes in it and I'll get us all something warm."

"You're not going now," Joel entered the room. "The sun is setting."

"It hasn't yet and I'll be quick, don't worry." You turned to leave but Joel stopped you. "It's right around the corner, you saw it. We need new clothes, Joel."

He hesitated for a moment, then moved out of the way. He often forgot you were as quick as a snake in grass.

You cleared out the single runner in the store, which had no legs and had his spine following it around like a tail. The store was quite empty at first, but you checked a couple of rooms in the back and found a lot of clothing from the "autumn collection". There was a tricolour raincoat that could fit Ellie, you also grabbed a black blouse for her and moved to the women's section. You quickly started feeling the texture of every blouse you came across (your options were more limited comparing to the kids section) and eventually grabbed a dark brown blouse, then searched through a bag of jeans. There were only two left, one your size and the other significantly bigger. It felt weird, finally getting your hands on normal clothes.

Just before you moved onto men's clothing, your eyes landed on the underwear section for women. You began digging through it but there was no normal underwear left. What you had was dark coloured thong's and brazilian's and matching bra's.

"Yeah... Who'd wear these in the middle of the apocalypse..." you muttered to yourself and groaned. You had no other choice but to take them and you hated how fancy they were, with their laces and everything.

You made sure to grab Ellie some underwear too and you wished you were as small as she was, for children's underwear looked more comfortable and normal. You felt odd at first, wondering how she'd react, but she needed clean clothing as much as you did.

You moved to another room, dug through men's section which was also quite empty. The only things left were plaid, lumberjack shirts and a sack of black t-shirts, so you immediately grabbed one of each.

You quickly sneaked back to the house, praying that you wouldn't get into trouble as your cargo was quite heavy.

"That was quick," Ellie told you as you set your rifle aside once more, making Joel wait outside the room as you handed Ellie the clothing you got for her.

"Told ya," you smiled. "These are for you... I uh, I hope you don't mind that I got this too."

You showed her the underwear and her eyes widened: "Oh, um- thank you."

Although it was a bit awkward, Ellie was grateful nevertheless. While she got dressed, you went to the room Joel was in.

"I got something for you too," You announced as you walked in. "It's not much, the shop was completely ransacked, but it should do."

"Oh," Joel, surprised, took the clothing and studied it before quietly saying: "Thanks."

You smiled shortly and moved to leave, but his voice stopped you: "Uh, I don't wear XXL..."

You turned around and smirked: "Oh, my apologies, did you really think I was focusing on the size while looking for something to wear?"

Joel sighed and nodded: "Right... you got yourself some stuff?"

"Of course I did," you rolled your eyes. "Finally, kissing this nasty thing goodbye."

Joel's lips turned upwards slightly, then you walked out. He actually appreciated the way your undershirt hugged your frame. You were built quite well, body resembling one of an athlete's - thanks to the torture like training you'd gone through pre and post outbreak. Joel shook his head, what the hell am I thinking, and began changing.

You walked into a bedroom with a mirror and sat down on the bed, slowly removing your undershirt. It used to be white and decorated with different stains, now it was completely red.

You froze at the sight of your body - it was almost completely covered with dried blood and bruises, your mind immediately reminding you of the events that happened dayss ago.

----

"Well, well, well; if it isn't our fish out of water lads..." you heard the all too familiar British accented voice behind you as two hunters pressed you down to the floor along with your teammates. "You really are hard to kill, eh? Well, well done Gabe."

You struggled against the men who were holding you down, spitting blood on the floor.

"Gabe! You son of a whore!" Maxim, the teams sniper, yelled and earned himself a punch in the gut. You breathed furiously against the floor, anxiety rising as you had a few ideas on what you were going to face, watching Gabe walk over and greet the leader of the group.

"Move them upstairs," the leader commanded and the hunters dragged you off the floor to your feet. You tried to escape but they were built like an ox - you doubled over when one of them punched you in the gut, blood coming out of your mouth. "Put them in the room to the right, except for this one..."

He walked over to you slowly and grabbed your jaw tightly, making you growl and spit on his face: "This one goes to the room on the left... She'll be my special guest after I gut all of her teammates."

And with that, he wiped the blood off his face and sucker punched you, making your vision go black.

----

"(Y/N)?" You heard Ellie knocking on the door. "Can I come in? I have your jacket."

You quickly walked to the door and hid behind it before opening it: "Thanks Ellie."

You closed the door once more and muttered to yourself: "I can't wear these before I get cleaned..."

The only thing you missed about the Boston QZ was the showers. They were cold and you didn't have any soap, but in the end you still got cleaned.

You quickly walked into the bathroom connected to the bedroom and digged through the cupboards to find something - anything to help you get rid of the blood. When you couldn't, you tried for the bath aimlessly. You were caught completely off guard when water hit your face, so you shrieked.

"Holy shit," you breathed heavily, too surprised at the water streaming out to hear Joel's footsteps bursting in through the room.

"(Y/N)?!" Joel called for you when he walked in and saw your discarded undershirt. "Are you-"

"I'm fine, there's water here!" You spoke excitedly, but suddenly the water almost stopped pouring. "Oh no."

"What?"

"The water's stuck, I think?" You tried to pull the shower head out but it didn't work. "Quick, pass me my knife!"

"Where is it?"

"In my bag!" You pulled harder on the showerhead as he went through your bag, only to come across your new set of underwear. He froze at the sight, but immediately grabbed the knife after you shouted Quickly Joel! His eyes widened even more when he saw your half naked state, but didn't stop from going in and giving you the knife. You got into the tub and cut the showerhead off, water immediately coming out and pouring onto your body.

"Ah! Shit-" you gasped at the cold touch of the water and stumbled out, body completely soaked.

"Son of a bitch," Joel stared at the bathtub in awe before turning to you and looking you up and down. "I guess you, uh, you should go first. Keep it short."

"Yes sir," you rolled your eyes.

Joel quickly walked out, his stomach doing a flip, almost bumping into Ellie.

"What happened?"

"(Y/N) found some water in the bath..."

"Shit, really?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck yeah!" Ellie exclaimed. "Our luck seems to be turning ever since she joined us, huh?"

Joel didn't make a comment even though, when he looked at it, you really did bring some luck with you.

You quickly washed your hair and cleaned the blood off with your fingers as fast as you could - your arms, chest, lower body, legs...

"You've got to be kidding me..." You smiled when you got out and came across towels in a cupboard in the bedroom. You dried off and called Ellie once you were dressed up, letting her know it was her turn.

While you waited on her to finish, you went over to Joel: "Do we have any bandages left?" You showed him your arms and wrists: "They're not quite healed yet."

Joel looked at you from where he was seated - you looked so different in normal clothing and with your hair down and wet, he almost thought you looked real pretty.

"Yup," he cleared his throat and proceeded to bring some out of his bag. "Sit here."

You sat across him on a leather couch as he applied the new bandage: "This place is so weird, it's almost untouched. I found some towels and more clothing you might wanna see in the wardrobes."

"M-hm," he hummed, then moved onto your other arm.

"It's feels so good to be out of those clothes," you smiled, trying to make conversation. "If only there were some socks, I'd be complete."

"Yeah... like the little set you got for yourself?" Joel (actually) teased, making you blush.

"How did you- Oh, right..." You remembered he had to rummage through your bag to find your knife. "They were the only ones left!"

"Right..."

"I mean it! Do you think I'm in the position to impress someone in the middle of an apocalypse?"

"I'm just messin' with ya," Joel smirked slightly and looked at your face once he was done. "Did you by any chance come across jeans or something in those wardrobes?"

"Pants, shoes, underwear- as I said, this place is untouched." You replied and pulled your sleeves down as he got up and left.

The journey from Peoria to the outskirts of Omaha, Nebraska was mostly uneventful. Every day you gained more strength, keeping watch more than Ellie and Joel as Joel seemed to trust you a little more now. You had also discovered that Joel's brother, Tommy, was waiting for them in Jackson. He used to be a Firefly that you helped here and there - you used to send aid whenever you could to the Fireflies, as you thought they served a better cause, but that vision got destroyed once Tommy and a few others quit. You worked with him quite often and were surprised to find out that him and Joel were brothers - for multiple reasons.

"Uh, was Tommy by any chance a Firefly?" You had asked one day, cutting through a shady looking buding in Bloomfield.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I used to help them get around FEDRA a few years ago- how come you ended up separately?"

"Wait, what-" Joel began, but the sounds of clickers interrupted him. "Shit."

You immediately raised your rifle and got into position in front of Ellie: "Stay behind me."

It was just two clickers on the entire floor - you made it out without breaking any sweat. You decided not to ask about Tommy again, not getting to hear the rest of the story until you reached Jackson.

It had been approximately two weeks ever since you left Carmel, now you were in Omaha, clearing out yet another apartment to rest in. You hated breaks in buildings, you preferred lakesides, where the water was calm. What you liked about the country and the route was the abundance of lakes and rivers. You got to clean yourself more often, wild life was mostly around it so you didn't starve and it was safer around water - unless it was a stream. You always walked far away from streams, it earned you a few questions but you always managed to avoid them.

Joel was less grumpy with you each passing day. What Ellie had said about luck when you found water in the shower stuck with him, as the road was mostly clear for the three of you; not encountering large groups of Hunters or any herds for a couple of days made things a lot easier. Comparing to his journey from Boston to Carmel, Joel had to agree you were like a good luck charm.

There were a few clickers on the floor that needed to be sweeped. You and Joel moved side by side through the corridors, quietly taking out the abomination. You slowly walked through a door and swept the room with your eyes quickly.

"Clear- through here," You whispered. Just as you were inspecting a crack on the ceiling, a deafening shriek filled your ears and two clickers fell through the crack, bringing half of the ceiling down with them. You jumped backwards to where Joel and Ellie stood, tripping and falling on your back, grunting as quietly as you could. Suddenly, you felt Joel's hands under your arms, dragging you up and away from the wreck. He backed the both of you up to the corner of the room as the clickers slowly got up. Ellie quickly hid under the desk on the other side of the room, but you couldn't get a hold of your footing while trying to keep an eye on her and bumped right into Joel, pushing him into the corner completely with your back pressed tightly against his body. You were breathing too heavily, Joel had to put his hand over your mouth. The closer the clicker got to you, the more you pressed yourself against him. You bit your lip and slowly took out your knife.

The clicker, after making its distressing and obnoxious noises inches away from your face, turned around and walked over to the other one.

You sighed as best as you could with Joel's hand over your mouth, his breath coming down hot on your neck and ear, making you shiver involuntarily. This situation could've been better if our lives weren't at risk, you thought as Joel slowly removed his hands from your waist and mouth. You immediately went for the kill, decided it was too risky to stay here, then moved to another floor.

"Phew," Ellie had said once it was safe. "That was way too close."

"Yeah," you replied, slightly shivering at the memory. However you weren't sure if it were your closeness to Joel or the clickers almost falling on top of you that made you shiver this time.

Days later, somewhere near the Wyoming border, you found an empty cabin in the forest. You'd just escaped a herd and decided to hide there until it passed entirely. Luckily, they were coming from Wyoming; you would've had real shitty luck if it were the other way around.

You had been keeping watch for the past two days so you barely got any sleep, you were restless and tired, so Joel took watch and gave you and Ellie some time to rest.

The cabin was very small, it had only one double bed in the only other room connected to it. You both laid down and just as your eyes were about to close, Ellie started asking a variety of questions which were unrelated to each other, eventually putting you to sleep with her hushed voice. Ellie had really grown on you and you could tell she liked you too. You cared a big deal for her and, as you'd grown older and spent every day with her, she really brought out a motherly side to you; which wasn't entirely bad but it wasn't too good either.

A few hours later you woke up for a brief moment, out of the blue. You were facing Ellie: She was asleep, her body rising and falling slowly. She looked so adorable and at peace like this, it made you smile. You carefully brushed a strand of hair out of her face and watched her for a while, slowly slipping back to sleep.

----

"Please... let her go!" you whined.

"Shut her up!" The man growled and one of the men who were holding you punched your side, making you cry.

Your vision was blurry, but not blurry enough to keep you from seeing the scarring images of your teammate being tied to a tree next to a stream by her ankle. She was passed out, beaten by the group of Hunters who held you captive, so she couldn't do anything but let them throw her unconscious self into the water.

"No! No! Please!" You sobbed, blood pouring from your mouth.

You watched her drown in the stream, crying helplessly. Your only hope was Kurt's tracking skills finding you before she drowned completely - however minutes passed, which felt like eternity, but Kurt didn't show up. You cried and begged, but they didn't listen.

"My, my. What a devoted leader you are... But don't worry darling," that annoying, triggering British accent laughed. "You'll be joining your girlfriend very soon."

You watched as they cut the rope around Felicity's ankle, and watched as her body brutally hit the rocks and fall down the waterfall; making you scream: "NO!"

----

"(Y/N)," you woke up again to the hushed voice of Joel.

"Hm, what's wrong?" You whispered sleepily.

"Your turn to keep watch, c'mon."

Ellie greeted you when you got up and left the bed for Joel to rest, commenting on how much you slept. After awhile of hesitation and silence, she asked about who Felicity was.

You tensed at the mention of Felicity, you must've talked in your sleep.

Felicity was your best friend. You knew her since forever -ever since you were children in kindergarten- and you both enlisted after school was finished. You went through everything together, you survived for twenty years in this mess; until one day you two were ambushed while scouting a new area. It was your first encounter with the same group of Hunters that ambushed you out in Carmel. Felicity's death was the reason why the new recruit, Gabe, was brought to Alpha One.

"Maybe some other time, Ellie," you said weakly. You felt sick to your stomach, like you did when you stepped outside and saw a glimpse of one of your teammate's corpse.

"Are you alright?" Ellie asked. "You're very pale."

"Yeah, I just... I just need to lie down, I think." You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling dizzy.

"Why don't you go lie back down? I can keep watch." Ellie offered. "I'll come wake you up if something happens, I swear!"

"No, Ellie," you gave her an apologetic smile. "I'll stay for a bit, if I feel worse I'll go, okay?"

"Fine," she huffed and settled on the edge of a window across you.

Nausea hit you like a tidal wave after only 10 minutes and you launched yourself out of the cabin, Ellie hot on your heels. Kneeling under a tree and getting what little food you had in you out, you doubled over to the ground after you finished vomiting, which was overdue. Ellie helped you back inside, brought you your water and walked you into the bedroom where Joel was long passed out.

"Call for me if you need anything."

"Alright, you too." You replied after reluctantly lying down next to Joel. "Hey Ellie?"

"Thank you sweetheart." You smiled as best as you could when she turned around, then returned the gesture.

----

"The legendary Alpha One leader, (Y/N) (L/N)..." the man walked around you as his goons tied your ankle around the tree like they did to Felicity. You barely had any power to fight back with your beaten up state, but the shock of your best friend's death and your fate being decided by a bunch of Hunters had adrenaline pumping through your veins. "Look at 'er still kickin' lads! Ha ha! Like the dead fish she is!"

"Fuck you! Fuck- I'll fucking get you, you son of a bitch, you hear me?!" You struggled against the pairs of arms holding you down, right above the stream. "You'll fucking die! I'll kill you for this!"

"Don't be funny lass," the man laughed. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the one with a rope around my neck- or my ankle, if you prefer. Show her what we do to people who try to interfere with our business, lads!"

And with that, you were thrown into the water.

You held your breath at first contact, but the water kept going against your nostrils. You tried to swim to the surface, but you realised you couldn't really move your arm. You groaned and let out some of the air you'd been holding at the realisation that your arm may be broken. Was this really how you were going to die? Was this really it? Your body felt like it was going to explode with the amount of adrenaline and shock and the rest of the emotions you were going through, ready to give up. Just as you were indeed ready to give out, however, you felt yourself being dragged by the ankle. Were they cutting the rope or-

With one hard pull, you flew out of the stream with a loud gasp, choking on water as you landed on your back.

"She's alive! My god she's alive!" You heard Kurt yell and rush to your side. Guess this wasn't how you were going to die after all. "I got you darling, I got you."

You gasped for air, looked around for hunters only to find the rest of Alpha One slowly approaching your position. Knowing you were safe, you relaxed and began sobbing violently: "It's okay (Y/N), I'm here, you're safe."

----

Your eyes slowly fluttered open at the sudden overheat. Your body was turned to the left, but with more weight on it. Something hot was blowing against your face and something else was pressing down on your waist. You slowly got grip of reality, only to notice that it was Joel partly cuddled up against you. Your eyes widened but you couldn't really move - his arm was loose around your waist but you didn't want to wake him up

This is nice, having some sort of physical contact which didn't pose a threat-

Stop... you thought to yourself, but then realized how your forheads almost touched.

Shit shit shit...

Your face scrunched up at your situation, cursing yourself internally for being so weak and getting yourself almost ill to end up sharing a bed with a man you'd only known for, what, two weeks?

And he was somewhat cuddling you in his sleep. How did he even know you were next to him?

He suddenly shifted a little, getting impossibly close to you, his hand almost touching your rear and making you feel uneasy. Your teeth were going to crush and your jaw was going to lock up if you stayed like this any longer - this made your imagination run wild, involuntarily of course.

It had been somewhere near 15 years since you got involved with any type of romantic and sexual activity, you were touch starved and Joel was incredibly attractive -impossibly so- with his deep voice, handsome face; all the muscles hidden under that green shirt of his... He was rough; he had this air of dominance to him which got you flustered from time to time. But what also attracted you to him was the possibility of a soft side, hidden deep beneath tough layers of walls built over the past 20 years.

You were involuntarily getting turned on when his hand was practically on your ass so you cleared your throat, more quietly than you had intended, to which he didn't respond. God fucking dammit-

"Look at you lovebirds! Ew..." Ellie's comment woke him up instead, you acting like you were sleeping as well so neither of them suspected a thing.

"Oh god," you moved away as Joel mumbled an apology, retreating to his own side.

"I'd say get a room, but-" Ellie continued but Joel interfered.

"Just-" Joel gave that one impatient glare of his you got so used to, making Ellie immediately stop talking.

"Okay, okay!" She raised her hands defensively. "Well, I thought you should know, I think the herd passed."

"You think?" Joel and Ellie went outside quickly, but you stayed exactly where you were, sat on the edge of the bed.

You were disciplined and certainly had self-control, but you never had had the time to grieve anyone properly. You just pushed it away and stayed strong for everyone in Alpha One, you realized how you never made grieving an option for yourself. It wasn't the first time you had lost someone of course. Your parents, friends, people you were acquainted with in a variety of places... but Feliciy drew the line and Alpha One crossed it with it's entirety. You really needed to get to Jackson, you didn't know when you would slip and lose your composure altogether.

Joel walked back in to tell you that it was time to move, but halted when he saw you still sitting at the edge of the bed. He felt embarrassed, he felt like he probably triggered a bad memory.

"Hey... You alright?"

"Yeah yeah, just, gimme a second," you said, swallowing back the urge to cry.

"Look, I'm sorry, I- I wasn't doing it knowingly," he tried to explain without tumbling over his words.

"No it's fine, really," you spoke and turned to face him. It was more than fine, in fact. As awkward as it was, it made you feel a type of warmth in you which you hadn't felt in quite some time. "I um, I shouldn't have invaded your space-"

"Nonsense," Joel interrupted immediately, taking a step toward his side of the bed. "Ellie told me you got sick, you had every right to rest."

You were expecting him to be angry with you for leaving Ellie by herself with a herd passing only miles away, but you reckoned he was more embarrassed than angry. You couldn't blame him, he never acted soft, ever, this must be truly awkward for him.

"We gotta move," Joel cleared his throat and reached for his bag on the floor. "You feelin' alright?"

"Yup," you partly lied. "Let's go."

And so continued your journey, onward to Jackson which was at the other end of Wyoming. Joel and you had very few chats after what happened in the cabin, only really talking when Ellie started up conversation.

One night, days later while you were in Casper, getting sidetracked for the umpteenth time, Joel joined you in watch while Ellie slept.

"Y'know, you sometimes talk in your sleep," he started conversation as he sat across you.

"So I'm told." You pursed your lips, memories of Felicity starting to resurface in your mind.

"You kept mumbling a woman's name," Joel tried. "Was she your..."

"I don't wanna talk about it," you snapped, more because you were scared rather than you were angry. You were scared, because you knew it would hurt once you started talking.

"Okay," Joel looked away. Ever since you started travelling with them you'd been nothing but nice and caring toward him. Even though you were ex-military. You felt so human to him, as if you weren't in an apocalypse. Most people lost themselves and their humanities in the past 20 years. He'd seen god awful things, including the slaughter of your team, but a piece of human still remained in you. He'd seen how you were with Ellie and he really appreciated how you treated her like a little sister... or even like a daughter from time to time. He knew from the beginning, deep down, that he could somewhat trust you when Ellie first told him your stories at the QZ... but one can never be too careful.

"So," you felt bad for snapping at him, so you tried to change the subject. "You and Tess smuggled her outside the QZ, for what?"

Joel visibly got tense at the mention of Tess' name, so you backed off. "Nevermind."

Joel didn't say a word but he thought about you. Once you were in Jackson he had to tell Tommy, that meant you were going to find out why him and Ellie were out in road sooner or later anyway, but he picked later for now.

"I, uh..." you tried again, cringing internally. "I want to ask you a few things, but they all might connect to something in your past, so..."

"Yeah," Joel nodded. He was both surprised and amused at your honesty.

You stared at him for a while as he stared at the small fire in front of you. You really did want to get to know him a little, but getting to know people have been like walking through a minefield for the past twenty or so years.

"I reckon you were a soldier before all this?" He asked out of nowhere.

"Yup- spec ops." You nodded. "What about you?"

"I, uh, I was a carpenter."

"Really?" You asked in disbelief.

"What?" He looked offended.

"No, I mean it's just that- you're this big rough guy and- shit, I dunno, I expected something else?"

"Rough guy, huh?" Joel chuckled. "What did you expect?"

"Anything but a carpenter... though I can see it now, with the shirt and everything."

You both chuckled. Joel bit his lip and stared at the ground for a while before giving into his curiosity: "I can't help but ask... how old are you?"

"Now that's not a very ideal question to ask a lady, isn't it, Mr. Miller?" You smirked.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry ma'am." He mocked and rolled his eyes.

"I'd say... around my late thirties?" You had no clue about precisely how many years it had been since the outbreak. "I was twenty when I joined special forces, six months later everything went downhill."

"I'd hate to break it to ya, but I think you're either forty or forty one."

You gasped: "Shit, already? What about you?"

"That'd make me around... God damn..."

"What, fifty?" You laughed.

"Something around that..."

You immediately stopped laughing, cheeks heating up a little. He can't be fifty!

"Forty eight," he mumbled.

"Well, if it's gonna make you feel better, you look a lot younger." You smiled.

"I can say the same for you. I thought you were no older than thirty-five..."

That was the first time you'd had a conversation other than the route. A genuine conversation about each other's personal lives- on some level anyway. It felt nice. Conversations like this with Joel, although brief, took your mind off things. Ellie's too of course, but sometimes she got a little too curious for your liking, but you weren't rude about it in anyway. And that's basically how it went until you reached Jackson: Watching each other's backs, small talk about the stuff that didn't relate to his and your background and slight teasing here and there. You became more comfortable around him after that night and he seemed to be getting more comfortable and trusting as well. You knew you shouldn't be getting too attached, as you knew you wouldn't be seeing them again after they left you in Jackson, but you couldn't deny the fact that they kept you going - that they kept you safe.

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #tlou x reader #the last of us #the last of us x reader #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction

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border-spam · 3 years

Text

Leech Lord - Trading places

Fun prompt where we took an existing character and gave them another’s life.

Troy with Ven - owned by @hieroglyphix

Troy was 16 when he killed the first time, crushed the man’s throat in that grotesque guardian arm’s fist.

Eli isn't sure that really needed to happen, but it had been chaos as Sweet and the other rebels had stormed the facility, and maybe things just got out of control. Maybe his brother had justifiable reasons for hating the people in the white suits as viciously as he’d seen in those icy blue eyes while the scientist pinned beneath him had choked out ragged gurgles. Eli doesn't like to think about it. Doesn’t like where it takes him.

Troy thinks plenty.

The world outside those sterilised walls had been bizarre and frightening. Eli flagged so quickly, and they had nothing. No money, no names, no safety. He'd turned to a ratty E-dev and the vision that swam behind his eyes, and found ways to use the "gift" he loathed.

Stocks are easy when you see the patterns. Numbers were always Troy's friends even if he never seemed to have many real ones. Online gambling, shifting accounts to hide profits, losing bets and making poor choices intentionally to throw off the scent... and taking care of those that picked it up.

They made a fortune together over the first few years, enough for medical teams that don't ask questions and machines that replace body parts too Eridium burned to remain functional.

He's not charismatic, he's not a people person, but he cuts a frightening shape in a high rise office and ornately decorated "prosthetic".

Troy and Eli are never known, always stay out of the limelight and avoid needless attention. They live like the functionally mega rich but remain nameless. Escaped Pandora on a licensed shuttle paid for by an account belonging to someone who's never existed and never will, but Troy's always been good with that. Lying.

Eli knows his brother would do anything to give him happiness, that he has done things neither of them ever speak of. He knows he's loved more than anything else in the universe, but there are times he wonders about the choices and actions his brother has taken over the last decade. Times he worries if something is wrong with Troy that he's too afraid to ask about.

Troy loves no one else. He knows no one else. He loves his brother like Eli is the only reason he has to live - and there's something broken about that. He appreciates and adores Troy for how much he's done for them both, really, he knows how much work it’s taken to keep them safe... it's just that he wishes it could been done with less bloodshed.

Tyreen with modern Azriel - owned by @lazulizard

Affluence suited her more than the life she was born into, really.

Tafeyo was all dirt and wheatfields. Beautiful night skies, but no spotlight. She hadn't belonged there - not entirely, and Tyreen had always felt stunted somehow. Like some part of her was missing in the farmlands. Always felt deep down that she should be in the city, that she should be around so many others, and when her family moved to one she finally found herself.

She's loud, funny, that kind of slightly irritating you put up with because you know they are a good person even if they won't shut the fuck up sometimes. Magnetic and engaging. You remember Tyreen even if you forget her name, she’s got that long lasting presence that brings a smile to someone’s face weeks after they met.

Ty is an influencer with a platform that reaches millions. She tries to be a philanthropist, doesn't need all the wealth wrapped up in her families name and company, but she just.. she makes mistakes quite often.

There's always discourse about Tyreen. There's always drama. She doesn't mean it, she just sometimes says the wrong thing, you know?

Misunderstood a situation she commented on during a stream, puts her foot in her mouth. She's effortlessly problematic and in a way where it's clear that it's not coming from a place of negativity, she just... never seems to learn.

Tries her best though, is loved by people all over the world. Loves herself too.

It's nice.

It's everything she ever wanted.

Seifa with Ari - owned by @artisthicc-nikyri

It’s easier to be who you want to be when you're supported by a family that truly loves what family is.

She always felt guilt at not being able to provide on the level the other hunters did, but taking a saurian claw to the flesh when you bleed for as long as she always does was never worth the risk. Can’t bring much to a clan when you’re dead. She found easy footing in a different role, a different part of the hunt that suited her a hell of a lot more : trading.

She’s cocky, laid back, friendly and open. No façade with this Seifa because the strength she grew up learning was genuine - bonds, family, love.

No act behind how she presents herself, no need! Her natural skills always lay in numbers and supplies, and she’s been the face of the clan in business deals off planet since she was 20, tailored business suits go so well with clan tattoos and bone.

Has a couple of pups of her own with a man who's got one eye and a full heart, he teaches them how to pull wealth from the soil while she's off planet, and their mother teaches them how to pull it from people when she’s home.

Touches base on Eden-6 at least weekly to restock on pelts and rare components. Ravasaur lenses go for a fortune to Harrier jewellery aficionados.

Happy. More scars and less stress.

News about the COV's rise on Pandora means nothing, not her business, let them sign their own death sentences. That place is a shithole anyway.

Asks are open!

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #seifa #oc: ven #oc: azriel #oc: arianna #oc: ari #leech lord #my writing #my hcs

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buckysbitch107 · 4 years

Text

The Angel On His Shoulder | Steve Rogers x Guardian Angel!Reader

Summary: You met Steve and Bucky at a young age. The three of you did everything together, up until the two boys went to war. You’re a badass, so of course you became a nurse and helped out wherever you could, even got to see Steve and Bucky a few more times. That of course wasn’t enough, so you became the first female Howling Commando. Unfortunately, when the Howling Commandos heard a plan of an attack on the base you were stuck at while tending to wounded soldiers, they were too late. Steve found you, a pretty cliché moment if you did say so yourself. Which you did. After you died in his arms, and after Bucky “died”, Steve crashed the plane into the arctic. Little did anyone know, you became his guardian angel, and saved his life once or twice in the process. Now, as he wakes up 67 years later, you have a few words to say.

Requested by: @wintersoldierslut

Warnings: Swearing, Threats, A bit of Self Depreciation, Mentions of Smut.

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: I tried my best on this one! It was a little hard to figure out at first, and I kind of made the reader like Castiel and Gabriel in Supernatural. Hope you guys enjoy, and remember requests are always open!

The soft light greets Steve as he slowly opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling before deciding to take in his surroundings. He looks around the small room, immediately noticing almost everything wrong with it, that fact putting him on edge.

“Am I dead?” He whispers, mainly to himself, not expecting anyone to answer.

“No, but you should be.” His head whips around to the dresser next to the bed, where you are seated, kicking your feet in the air. “And so should I, but the afterlife works in mysterious ways. I really still don’t understand it and I’ve been stuck in it for 67 years.”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“How are you here?”

“If I didn’t already know, I’d ask the same for you.”

“Okay then, how am I here and how are you here?” Steve asks, fully sitting up in the small bed and turning so his feet are on the ground and his head is facing you.

“Well, after I died in your arms, pretty cliche if I do say so myself and I did at the time, I became your dumb ass’s guardian angel and-”

“Wait, how can you swear?”

“Number one, moo. Number two, same way you can.”

“I thought angels couldn’t cuss?”

“You do realize how many times they explicitly explain sex in the bible, right? Now back to what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” You pause again, making sure Steve’s mouth is shut before continuing. “I became your guardian angel, and when you said you were putting the plane in the ice, DIDN’T THINK YOU MEANT PUTTING YOURSELF IN THE ICE TOO!”

“It was the only way!” Your expression instantly morphs into one only described as ‘are you fuckin kidding me’.

“There were multiple windows. Right in front of you. And next to you. And probably behind you. I didn’t get a great look at the ship, as I was too busy SAVING YOUR ASS!”

“Alright, I get it. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, now, you’re probably wondering where you are.” You speak, gesturing to the honestly confusing room the two of you are in.

“Yeah…” He trails off, looking at everything a little closer. The puke green and blinding white walls, the weird decor, the radio playing a game the two of you attended with Bucky.

“Welcome to the future. 67 years in it, to be exact. HYDRA lost, by the way.”

“Spoiler alert.”

“Well, I’m so sorry, Mr. Captain America, sir. I thought you’d want to know that you didn’t have to jump right back into the suit. Speaking of Captain America, a weirdly dressed lady is coming in like five seconds, so I gotta bounce. Call me if you need me!” And with a snap of your finger, you disappear. As you said, five seconds later, a woman dressed in a very bad copy of what would be a 40’s nurse/agent/he doesn’t even know at this point outfit.

“Good morning.” She says, her voice having a weird perkiness that makes him honestly want to vomit. And that’s where it all goes wrong.

~~~

“You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers.” Tony spits, looking him dead in the eye. You appear in the corner of the room, only to Steve of course, but that doesn’t matter. You are fuming. Steve can almost hear the steam pouring out of your ears, and he barely moves his hand to signal you to stop moving towards Tony. He looks at you out of his peripheral vision, and he slightly smirks, as to not communicate to Tony that he’s smirking because of him.

‘You’re cute when you’re angry. Always have been.’ He thinks, barely catching Tony’s next sentence.

“Everything special about you came out of a bottle.”

“You think I’m cute when I’m angry? Well, get ready, cause I’m about to be fuckin gorgeous.” You mutter, snapping your finger to disappear before reappearing behind Tony. Steve is about to respond to Tony when you tap lightly on the man’s shoulder, Stark turning around before becoming very confused.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)-”

“Oh, so you know who I am?” You hiss, fire practically burning in your eyes, causing the playboy to slightly shift back. “Listen here motherfucker. I haven’t made a promise in 67 years, but I’m promising you this.” As you start moving forward, both Tony and Steve slowly start stepping back to avoid your wrath. “You spit another goddamn word out of your mouth about how Steve is nothing, how Steve is just an experiment, I will end each and every person in this room, except for him. And I will do so smiling while I bathe in your blood. Do you understand me?!” The man nods and you slightly back away, a look of awe on Natasha’s face.

“Woah. I thought you were just something from storybooks.” She mumbles, making a sense of pride run through your veins.

“I lied, she’s safe too. I like her.” Natasha smiles while Tony gains a little more confidence and decides to speak up once again.

“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

~~~

“Not helpful!” You yell, throwing three Chitauri warriors off of you.

“Sorry!” Thor yells. You continue shooting and stabbing Chitauri warriors, occasionally helping one of the Avengers.

“Why is she here?” Tony asks, speaking through the coms in your suits.

“Because Fury sent me out here!” You respond, fighting off another few foes.

“They keep coming from the huge flying things!” Steve yells, meaning the Chitauri Leviathan floating above you guys. You sigh before turning to the man, giving him a grim look before coming up with an idea.

“Launch me, off the shield, get ready to catch me.”

“Um, okay.” He quickly launches you, giving you enough momentum to get plenty of feet up in the air. At that exact moment, a Leviathan flies towards you. You pull out your knife, driving it through the chest of the beast before the momentum forces you forward, dragging the knife through its chest and all the way down to it’s “tail”.

“Falling, Falling, FALLING!” You scream, praying that someone catches you. Thankfully, you land in Cap’s arms, giving him a small smile before hopping out.

“Let’s finish kicking these alien asses.” You mumble, already running back into the fight.

~~~

After the Battle of New York, Stark threw a massive party to celebrate. Sure, it was for the newly formed Avengers, but Fury was already talking about adding you to the initiative. So, there you sit, comfortable on one of the couches surrounding the windows looking out onto New York City, the other avengers scattered on the remaining couches and chairs. You take a large sip out of the bottle of beer in your hand, and you nearly choke on the liquid as Thor starts talking.

“Y’know, you and Lady (Y/N) would make an excellent couple.” He booms, talking to Steve, but having everyone hearing it. A glimmer of hope rises in your chest, almost immediately being crushed as Steve laughs it off as a joke. You laugh along, trying to ignore the slight tightening in your throat. You sit there for a few more minutes, the air full of silence before you stand up and excuse yourself from the party.

“You okay?” Steve asks, a concerned look on his face. You nod quietly before answering.

“Yeah, just tired.” You mumble, walking up the stairs to the elevator, taking it up to your temporary room. You walk in, closing the door behind you, flopping on the bed with tears in your eyes. Tears stream down your face as you think back to the conversation downstairs, how Steve laughed off Thor’s comment. You continue to quietly sob into your pillow until a knock sounds at the door, causing you to shoot up and wipe your eyes quickly.

“Hey,” Nat speaks, walking into your room and closing the door behind her.

“Hey” You whisper back.

“You love him, don’t you?” She asks, sitting down on the edge of your bed. You simply nod, the woman in front of you laying a hand on your knee. “You don’t see it, huh?”

“See what?”

“He loves you too.” At this comment, you shake your head, letting out a short laugh before looking up at the ceiling and back to her.

“He doesn’t love me. Steve’s not that stupid.” You mumble, wringing your hands together.

“What do you mean?”

“Has he showed you the compass yet?”

“Compass?”

“Steve keeps a compass in his back pocket. On the top part, is a picture of Peggy Carter. She’s older now, obviously, but he’s still in love with her. He took one look at her, and I was simply in last place. It’s just what I have to accept.”

“Oh sweetie-”

“Guardian angels aren’t supposed to fall in love.”

“You were in love before you died, right?”

“I’ve been in love with him since we met, Nat. Not exactly something I can shake.” She offers you a small smile and a hug before she stands up, leaving you alone to figure things out. What you both didn’t realize, was that Steve had come up to talk to you, stopping outside your room once he heard you and Nat talking. He heard everything you said. Nat doesn’t notice him, turning the other way down the hall. Steve walks in, startling you, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

“Before you ask, I heard everything.”

“Oh-”

“I love you too.” He blurts out, surprising the both of you. Your jaw drops open, and he starts profusely blushing, slightly stepping backward before you stand up, grabbing his hand in yours.

“Are you telling the truth, or are you just saying it.”

“I’m 100% serious.” You smile and your eyes flick to his lips, his eyes seemingly doing the same. The two of you slowly lean in, Steve taking the extra step and pressing his lips against yours. He smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you closer, your hands resting on his chest. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead against yours, giddy smiles on your faces.

“Hi.”

“I have a question.” You whisper before he kisses you again, moving his mouth down to kiss your jaw and neck

“Hmm?” He hums, the vibration tingling against your throat.

“If I was naked right in front of you, what would you do?”

~~~

“What a lovely little mess I made.” You whisper, looking at the array of hickeys and lovebites across Steve’s chest.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetie.”

“Oh, I hope not.”

Permanent Tags: @wintersoldierslut @breakmy-bedbarnes@stuckys-hot-dogs @andreasworlsboring101@yaxamarvel @donutloverxo

Just a reminder that all requests are open! My masterlist is in my bio, so you guys know who I specialize in, but really I do anyone y’all request. As I’ve mentioned, nothing is too fluffy, angsty, smutty, or gorey for me. I mainly write Marvel and its characters/actors. I can also write some characters from other things, you just have to ask! Also please let me know if you want to be a part of the Permanent Tags! But please, for now,

Call me Emily

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steven rogers #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america one shot #captain america #captain america fic #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel comics #fluff

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