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firefly-in-darkness · 3 years

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Life on Hold

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Y/N is pulled out of retirement by Fury, and Bucky is the one to break the news.

Word Count → 2.8k

Prompt → ‘You must be out of your goddamn mind’ for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Hamilfilm Lyric Challenge

SSB2021 Square Fill → ‘Where’s the fight?’ - @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings → 18+. Fluff, Angst, Smut. Swearing.

Betas → @daydream3r-xo & @fandomfic-galore // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my first time taking part in a bingo card and what better way to kick it off than with our boy Bucky and the trifecta of angst, fluff & smut! Hope you enjoy - comments & reblogs are always adored!

Firefly’s Masterlist // Star Spangled Bingo 2021

Fury entered the conference room at Stark Tower with his usually authoritative, no bullshit attitude and the black leather jacket flowing behind him. The Avengers immediately halted their actions; Natasha and Clint gave each other a knowing side-eye, Bucky and Steve placed down their coffees while Wanda, Vision and Bruce stopped their conversation, mid-flow, to turn their attentions to the director.

“Where’s Stark?” Fury looked around for the billionaire, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A voice came through the speakers, “I’m here. Just not here, here.”

Fury turned to the camera in the corner, “Stark, I suggest you get in here now.”

“No can do boss, I’m a little tied up doing good for the community at the moment.” The Iron Man suit’s HUD display appeared in the centre of the room above the table with Stark’s signature smirk, “I’m listening.”

The holographic display changed with the flick of Fury’s hand; Stark’s face appearing in the top right corner while the other information appeared larger. A selection of blueprints for a fortified base, images of various Hydra agents and satellite footage of the surrounding area. Steve flicked through the same information on the tablet in his lap while the rest of the team continued to look at display or Fury for further instruction.

“As you can see, we have collected a lot of information about this particular base. The only problem is that we are struggling to infiltrate it. Our agents have explored every possible way to get inside but it’s becoming more obvious that whatever is happening inside that warehouse is something for the Avengers to deal with.” Fury continued as he walked around the room, hands behind his back.

“What attempts have been made?” Steve asked, the stern tone of Captain America coming through.

The Avengers watched the footage that enlarged in front of Nick Fury; a group of agents moving as one through the dense snow-covered forest until they were repelled back twenty feet.

“That’s the issue. We’ve tried to go through it, over it and under it. We can’t get in so I need the best on this,” Fury pointed at the repeated clip of the soldiers being hit with the force field, “Romanoff, Barton; get reading up on those reports, see if you can find anything that stands out. Maximoff and Vision, start looking into what that force field is and whether you remember it from your Strucker days. Stark, I need you back here for the final briefing by 1800 hours.”

The four Avengers nodded at the director and left the room. Stark disconnected and the hologram disappeared. Bucky remained silent, watching Fury’s every move while Steve reclined in the chair, spinning it towards the director.

“And what about us Sir?” Steve asked, his body tense and irritation not going unnoticed by the remaining attendees.

“I said I needed my best.” Fury pressed his hands against the back of a vacant seat, looking straight to Bucky. “There’s only one person that can help us with this one.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened and he barked in response, “No!”

“He’s right, Buck.” Steve turned to him with a small smile, “we’re going to need all the help we can get. Who knows what’s going on down there?”

“You must be out of your goddamn mind.” Bucky pushed the chair back forcefully and walked to the door, yanking it open. He paused looking back at Steve and Fury, “and I guess, I’m going to be the one to break the news, aren’t I?”

The bell above the door chimed as Bucky entered the florist; he was hit with a multitude of colours and smells that were incredible but the one thing that stood out most to him was the woman tucked between sunflowers and dahlias with an older gentleman. His heart raced at Y/N’s beaming smile as she gathered up the flowers and rang up the cost on the register.

Bucky preoccupied himself with the assortment of blooms and the trinkets scattered around the small shop while she continued to chat with the gentleman, he tried not to listen in to the conversation, but he had to gauge her mood before he approached her, not that she didn’t already know he was there.

“Mr Lee, you cannot make those eyes at me when you’re buying flowers for your wife!” Y/N laughed, “send her my best and that I’ll see her on Sunday for the bake sale.”

“You’ll realise that I’m the one for you sooner or later.” The man waved and passed Bucky, leaving the shop with another jingle of the bell.

Bucky had watched the man leave as he thought of how impressed he was with the way Y/N had settled into this town after a few months. He’d always been impressed with the woman that had managed to retire and find her feet so seamlessly.

Without turning around, Bucky knew that she was now behind him and her hands would be placed on her hips, a sideways pout on her lips as she waited for him to pay her attention.

“Seeing as we only saw each other on Thursday, Buck, and if someone had died, you’d have called, what could you possibly need on this wonderful Sunday afternoon? Did you miss me that much?” She giggled but then she saw the seriousness in his face once he’d turned around. “Shop closes in an hour; I’ll be up in a bit.”

Bucky felt guilty for dimming the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, she was silent with a blank expression as she unlocked the door leading to her apartment. He’d never experienced the receiving end of the anger that was smothering the atmosphere. Of course, he’d witnessed it aimed at others but never at this level towards himself.

Y/N kicked off her trainers and untied her apron, slamming it down on the kitchen table. Her fingers clenched around the fabric, and her jaw ticked before she turned to Bucky. He leaned against the door frame and explained how she needed to come out of retirement for a mission, giving her the details about the force field that the SHIELD agents were unable to penetrate.

Bucky waited for Y/N to speak, he learnt long ago that he had to leave her to process whatever it was that was racing through her mind. Y/N had her back to him, one hand gripping the counter and the other holding tightly onto the knife that she’d retrieved to chop vegetables. She turned around and opened her mouth, only for no words to come out and for her to continue preparing dinner.

The pain and fear that flicked across her features were motivation enough for Bucky to get closer, he strode over and placed his hands on her hips. He felt the tension drop from her body at his touch, a sense of pride swelled as she leant her back into his chest.

“It’s been 113 days since I left. You can’t come here and ask this of me.” Y/N’s voice cracked, and her eyes glossed over as she waved the knife around in front of her, the peppers no longer being diced.

Bucky’s fingers held her wrist to stop the kitchen utensil from turning into a weapon and rest his chin on her shoulder, “I know doll, but you know why I was sent and not Steve or Fury himself.”

“Yeah, ‘cos they know y’all sweet talk me ‘round.” She scoffed and dropped the knife down with a clatter, turning in his arms to look at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and fingers threaded through the loose strands while a smirk crept up her face, “and they knew that I wouldn’t castrate you either.”

Bucky chuckled and nudged his nose against hers before their lips lightly brushed one another, a soft peck and Y/N unravelled and continued with prepping the food. Stirring the partly prepared sauce heating on the stove, Bucky watched her form soften but he knew that it would be short-lived.

“Where’s the fight?” She whispered, as if she already knew but didn’t want to believe it.

“Poland.” He slipped back and took a seat at the kitchen table, knowing that she would turn around in an instant with another burst of anger.

And as if on cue, Y/N threw a tomato at the wall to her left, the juices staining the neutral paint as it slid down. She whirled around and pointed the wooden spoon at him, “I can��t believe those jerks! They don’t even have the balls to talk to me themselves and instead, they send my lovely, innocent and ridiculously handsome boyfriend to woo me into returning to the field.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call myself innocent.” Bucky tried to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Y/N paced the length of the kitchen in a few steps before spinning around and walking back again. Defeated with the inevitable of visiting the country she grew up in, she collapsed on Bucky’s lap. “What about my shop? Do they not realise that I have a business to run? I’m not an Avenger, I'm just an ordinary civilian.”

“You’re everything but ordinary.” His arms pulled Y/N closer to him, her head burrowing under his chin, “It’s okay sweetheart, Diane can run the place in your absence, she knows what she’s doing. We’ll be gone a week at most. I made sure to get a month of vacation off afterwards so we can do this place up.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, bashing Bucky’s chin making him bite the inside of his cheek. The blood filled his mouth, but he swallowed it down and cupped her face at the sight of the unshed tears in her eyes.

“Really? Do you mean that? Because being with you for one night every two weeks is horrible.” Her bottom lip poked out and Bucky wobbled it with his index finger.

“Yes, of course, doll.” He smiled and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Hold up!” Y/N pulled away from him, her hands pressed firmly into his chest, “you’re sweet talkin’ me, aren’t you?”

“Nothing gets past you.” Bucky’s head fell back as the laughter rumbled through his chest and Y/N stood up. He swatted her butt cheek, “get a move on with dinner, we have to leave in an hour.”

“James Buchanan Barnes!” She spun around, a feigned look of shock and her hand clutched to her chest. Her agape mouth dropped into a smirk as she leant forward, rubbing her nose against his. “If you’re still into this sweet talkin’ thing…”

Y/N spun on her heel and with a sway of her hips, wandered to the door. She looked back over her shoulder, “well, are you coming or what?”

Bucky was on his feet in seconds, chasing her down the corridor. Giggles filled the apartment as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air. He fell backwards onto the bed, dropping her to his side gracefully.

Both looked at the other, full of smiles and breathless from the short jog. The contrast of cold metal against Y/N’s warm cheek sent a shiver down her spine, and the way Bucky focused on her lips filled her core with want. The laughter died down and desire took over, as their faces inched closer and until they were ghosting over each other’s lips.

“Thought I had to sweet talk you, doll?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s parted mouth; his beard scratched deliciously against her.

In retaliation, she pushed on top of him, straddling his waist and feeling the rough texture of the tactical gear hidden beneath the hoodie, “well, what can I see, could never resist a man in Kevlar.”

Y/N ducked down and pressed a light peck to Bucky’s lips. He immediately took control, his hand holding the back of her head and deepening the kiss while his hardening groin rubbed against her clothed sex.

All thoughts of the mission and Poland disappeared with each item of clothing they discarded. Their minds focused on bringing the other to the edge of ecstasy with every kiss, lick, and stroke. Their bodies hummed with desire and need, entangled together above the sheets.

Bucky pinned Y/N to the bed, holding her hands above her head in his grip while he peppered kisses down her neck, and across her now beautifully exposed body. His hold loosened as he neared her sensitive parts, the mewling sounds above him sent repeated shocks of pleasure to his already stiff member.

Y/N couldn’t handle the wait any longer, her hips tilting up towards in demand of his mouth. It was oh so close but still far away from her bundle of nerves, “please Bucky, I need you.”

Not one to disappoint or let his girl beg for too long, Bucky teased her drenched cunt with his fingertips. She whimpered in response, pride swelled in his chest and pushed him to lick a stripe through her lips, tongue swirling over her clit.

“Fuck” Y/N stuttered out; one hand tugged on his locks while the other palmed her breasts.

Bucky moaned, the vibrations pushing Y/N closer to her orgasm. He continued to eat her cunt with ferocity. Bucky always marvelled at how he’d almost cum from the sounds of her moans and the taste of her pleasure. His cock ached as he rubbed the precum across his tip and gripped his shaft to hold off his orgasm until he felt the friction of her tight cunt, until he was deep inside her.

Kisses lightly pressed along her thighs and her stomach; Bucky didn’t miss a single spot, blemish or scar on her body. Her body glowed in the post-orgasmic haze, her fingers softly stroking through his locks as he hovered above her.

Bucky faltered when he saw her eyes glistened with unshed tears and the tremble of her lip, “Doll, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Oh, sweet man,” Y/N cupped his cheek, his head resting into her palm, “of course not. I’m just scared of going back. Of losing myself to my past. Of losing you.”

Bucky let go of the breath he held, a small piece of him was glad that he hadn’t done anything to hurt the precious person lying beneath him but the rest of him filled with the need to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. And that is what he did.

He rolled to her side, gathered her up in his hold and pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, “I can’t promise that it won’t be hard. Going back there, to those monsters. But I can promise you that you won’t lose me. I’ll be with you every step of the way, like you have been there for me.”

Y/N clung to Bucky’s waist; her legs entwined with his while she let the tears flow. Her fear subsided with each drop, the caress of Bucky’s fingers along her arm and the sweet nothings he whispered into her ear.

Y/N packed her bag while Bucky returned to the kitchen to fix her something to eat. Even though he had developed incredible hearing, he couldn’t make out the Ukrainian words that she mumbled in between ‘Steve’ and ‘Fury’ or the slams of the bedroom furniture. But what he did know was that they weren’t going to be any terms of endearment to her former superiors.

Minutes later, Y/N had returned with an outfit change and dropped the holdall to her feet. Bucky’s heart thumped against his chest and a blush heated his cheeks as she winked at him. Even after all this time, seeing her in the black uniform always sent his heart racing and Y/N knew exactly how he felt about the uniform.

They ate the meal in silence as Y/N scanned the details on the tablet, both now brought up to speed with the latest developments from Natasha’s intel; alien technology being sold across the black market. What’s new. Bucky rolled his eyes at the information, there was always some bad guy with a bunch of weaponry, that they didn’t understand, trying to use it for evil.

Once again, Y/N disappeared into other parts of the apartment while Bucky loaded his black truck with her holdall and waited for her arrival in the cab. She hopped into the passenger seat and appeared calm, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he should prepare to duck for cover when they arrived at the briefing room.

Luckily for Bucky, Natasha and Clint pulled him aside to go over their new findings. Not so lucky for Steve and Fury, who would have to deal with the wrath of the retired Avenger.

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @avantgardium-leviosa*

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever

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If you would like to be added to my taglist then drop me an ask

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Star's Hamilfilm Lyric Challenge #SSB2021 #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes #Sexy times

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pinkmirth · 3 years

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—𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝗼𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 [𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞]

《𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 + 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝》

Boxes splayed across the bare, sheen hardwood of your newly owned apartment, some contents of them being haphazardly tossed out onto the floor, courtesy of Katsuki. Speaking of, the eager ash blonde had been taking this whole unpacking thing with a ravaging approach, a little more aggression than enthusiasm being displayed. This disregarding husband of yours had already broken two vases since the moving van hauled in your belongings..

You caught wind of his incoherent murmurs throughout the day, which were practically countless by now. You’d been racking your brain since, attempting to discover what had gotten your poor Katsuki so upset. Despite the marriage that bonded you and him, Katsuki’s profession usually got in the way of many personal things. For a while, it’d been a danger just for the pair of you to live together, so you haven’t been. Until now. It had been three days since you and him moved from the comfort of your hometown, Musutafu, to the renowned capital, Tokyo, and you wished you could say it had been smooth sailing. Unfortunately, a certain Bakugou wasn’t having the best time, always sputtering a profanity or a groan left and right. His case of the grumps was probably a trip of his complex emotions, either caused by a sense of neediness, deprivation of some sort, or bottled rage. You were betting, practically hoping on the first two instead. Knowing your husband, it meant well that he’d get his hands on miscellaneous household items to crush, smash and break, as some way of channeling his anger episodes. Three days down the line, and you already needed to replace a handful.. Though, it was currently dinner time, and you were sure that was a good thing. Katsuki’s little funk would wash away come 6pm. Cooking had a way of melting away the male’s heaps of stress, especially when you offered to join in. Throughout that hour of making food and serving you his prideful dishes, he always carried a subtle smile. Dinner wasn’t something to worry about. “Fuckin’ hell!” Scratch that. Telling by the pestering clatter of the cabinets he was yanking open, to the dastardly echo of his stomps, it seemed that you couldn’t rely on the succor of food for any longer. “I oughta’ set this lousy kitchen on fucking fire!” You let out a hefty sigh, picking yourself up from the spacious beanbag, since you were yet to assemble any couches, before strolling over to the kitchen, awaiting to see the reason behind your husband’s exaggerated shrieking. “Katsu-Chan, what's the issue..?” Your husband immediately bombarded you with a growled rant, “I can’t find my shitty apron!” You eyed Katsuki through furrowed brows. Is all this attitude really about one measly apron? Nah, I doubt it, your inner voice chimed. “And there ain’t any more pepper seasoning, so I haven’t got a clue what I’ll cook now..” he spewed through gritted teeth, recklessly tossing away the poor frying pan that he’d been holding onto all the while, impressive dents imprinted onto the handle, curved into the shape of his fingers. In that case, you had one more household item to replace. Noted.. “I can’t find that damned thing,” he spoke with an exasperated huff, his hands flying up to the cupboards, motioning them open and closed with the slightest violent tendency. “Hate to break it to you, sweet cheeks, but we ain’t eating dinner tonight,” you scoffed over Katsuki’s recurring dramatics, “These past few days have been shitty anyway..” He’d said it throughout a lowly mutter, but it was enough to cause a nervous stream to rush through you. Did he not like it here? Perhaps the city was too busy for Dynamight, maybe he wasn’t immune to getting homesickness as he liked to brag about, or it couldve been that he just wasn’t ready to get used to such a foreign occurrence in your relationship— living together. But, of course, considering your nature to bat things off with a joke of some sort, you contorted your worries into a comical stick to jab at your husband with.

“Darling, if you’re on your man-period, you should’ve just said so..” you’d said it with fabricated pity, all the while holding back your chuckles as his brows began to furrow, upper lip curving vexingly.

“You think you’re so damn funny, dontcha’, woman..?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

Another rasped groan left the lips of the ever-impatient Bakugou Katsuki, “Oi. Are ya’ just gonna keep giggling on about my little anger episode forever?”

Hm. For once, he actually acknowledged it for what it is, you thought briefly, before making your way around the glossy, marble-design kitchen island, your hands finding solace on his defined, muscular triceps.

The thick straps of his black, square neck tank top gradually began to slide past his shoulders, shadowing over his collarbone before you inched it back up.

“Do you.. like it here, Katsuki?” By the moment he answered your answer with an aggressive snort, you realized you had nothing to worry about.

“Why the hell wouldn't I? We didn’t pay for this house just to hate the place,” he scoffed, his large palms skimming over the small of your back before thick fingers of his wrapped around your waist.

“That’s a relief, but you’ve been acting a little grumpy— Like something’s bothering you. Could you just tell me how you’re feeling?” You finally admitted your questioning thoughts with an expectant look, watching Katsuki return your curiosity with a subtle smirk. “You wanna know what’s bothering me..?”

“Y’know what, never mind. Don’t wanna hear it, Katsu-Chan.”

Your abrupt response had him knitting his brows and emitting confused huffs. “So you’re just gonna change your mind on me like that?!” You jabbed at his chest with your pointer finger to punctuate your reply, “because you made it sound creepy, that’s why!”

Katsuki then tightened his grip around your waist, earning a breathy gasp out of you. Before you could question the blonde, he already had you hauled up into the kitchen island, standing between your dangling legs with the tip of his nose grazing yours. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the comforting warmth of his sizey hands, your arms instinctively flinging around the back of his neck.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth, hon,” confessed Katsuki, “The move has been great, but horrible. It all went good, I guess. No missing items, moving trucks arriving in record time, everything we wanted. But there’s one more thing that we wanted that you seemed to forget about, you lil’ idiot..”

Despite the use of an insult, his cheeks and ears began the bloom a subtle but pretty pink, his sharp red eyes averting from your own blinking ones.

“Care to inform me on whatever I forgot..?” You skimmed through my your memory frantically in those few seconds that he’d paused, trying to dig up a pleasing answer before he told you himself.

“Privacy, [Y/N].. We’d have so much, too much once we moved to our own place. And we loved the sound of that. Y‘know why, right..?”

Your heart suddenly leapt within your chest at his indication, his left brow rising suggestively as he briefly cocked his head. You definitely knew why.

“So we could have times like this. Without any damned interruptions. I can suck your face off without one of my shitty friends popping up unexpectedly, ain’t that swell?” His voice held the slightest bit of laughter in it, his tone comical and yearning.

“So.. if I said that I wanna feel you close to me..” you murmured, your breath fanning over his proximate lips, “Like, really really close, it wouldn’t be a problem, yes?” A teasing, lingering peck was what you placed across his cheek, earning a genuine grin from Katsuki as a response.

“Who the hell’s gonna stop you? In fact, I’ve got my own idea,” his lowly voice came out booming nonetheless, but of course, the benefit of privacy made sure that his volume wasn’t a problem.

“I wanna watch you. While you watch me.” He didn’t have to be lewdly exact with his words, the lust-blown gaze in your husband’s vermillion eyes was enough to tell what he wanted. It was simple enough as he’d said; Mutual masturbation, just a few minutes before dinner time would commence.

Albeit the serene atmosphere, you couldn’t hold back your snicker over your realization. Bakugou Katsuki, your impatient lover. The poor guy had been in such a distasteful mood, only because of his unnerving libido..

“You wanna watch me take off my panties, huh?” Your teasing statement came out as a suggestive giggle, your hand placed sturdily at the nape of his neck while the unoccupied one got to work on making his fantasies a reality, tugging at the hem of your leggings hastily.

“You’ve gotta watch me too, y’know,” Katsuki reminded you with a gravelly chuckle, shimmying and pulling his bottoms off as though there were no time to spare.

His half naked form had attracted you in an instant, eyes drawing to his thick cock, semi-hard and already being encased into his moving palm.

“Don't just stare. It works both ways, sweet cheeks. I wanna see some fingers moving’ already,” Puffs of breath were taken between his words, ruby red eyes already lidded with an agape mouth that poured out the most arousing groans.

“Nah, I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now,” you decided matter-of-factly, pressing a sloppy kiss along his defined jawline, causing him to emit another grunt, lowly slapping sounds being heard from his vulgar ministrations.

“You think you’re cute, huh..” hissed Bakugou, trudging his clothes back on with a grunt, to your dismay. “Forget it. Instead of putting on a show for a brat like you, I’m gonna go straight to dinner.”

You accepted the fate that your actions resulted in, ready to slide off the island, just before his stern hands stopped you. He gave you this glance, one that made you eye him in suspicion as he kept his hands on each of your thighs, spreading them apart with a lax grin.

“Katsu— Ah!” By now, the blonde had already dropped to his knees, now face level with your clothed heat. “W-what about dinner..?!”

“Whaddya’ mean?” His tone came out rasped and attractive, a growing smirk reaching his lips as his fingers prodded at the band of your bottoms, “This is my dinner, babe..”

#bnha thirst #mha thirst #bakugou imagines #bnha Imagines #Katsuki Bakugou imagines #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x female reader #bnha insert #mha insert #Bakugou smut #bnha smut #harmoni writes

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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Conner Kent Week 2021, Day Two: Rarepair

Jason knew jokes about how pale Tim was, about how he was either a vampire or the perfect blue blood, about how he needed to get out and absorb some sun for God’s sake. They were met with glares, scathing retorts, smacks with a bo staff, and on one memorable occasion, a horrified Bruce as Tim barged into the house with visible sunburn all along his arms, shoulder and face. (Bruce hadn’t taken Tim’s accusation of But Jason told me to go get some sun! very well.)

Jason wasn’t joking now. Loosely covered in a hospital gown, Tim’s still body seemed to be more devoid of colour than any of the sheets, machines, and tubes surrounding him and attached to his body, keeping him alive in the most impersonal of ways.

It was quiet, the sort of quiet that muffled any attempted noise with a soft hush, an invisible reprimand at showing signs of life in a place where there should be none. The beeping of the various machines didn’t register, the hum of the fluorescent lights was ignorable. Even the rhythmic tapping of Jason’s foot on the linoleum, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break, was utterly silent.

It was quiet. At least until Conner Kent barged into the room, his heavy combat boots thudding on the ground and his breath coming out in pants, the terrified look on his face telling Jason that he thought he hadn’t gotten here fast enough.

“He’s fine,” Jason managed not to cough while speaking, the roughness of his throat a physical ache that was just now flaring up. “Full recovery, they said.”

“Good, good, that’s...” Conner dropped into the remaining hospital chair, right next to Jason. “That’s good.”

Silence blanketed them once again. Jason hadn’t ever been in a regular hospital room. He had supposedly spent a while as a patient in one when he’d risen from the dead and trembled around Gotham like a 21st century zombie, but he couldn’t remember any of it. He didn’t think Tim’s best friend had ever been in one either, given a good majority of Tim’s team was invulnerable or had advanced healing in some way.

Jason was sure Bruce was itching to take Tim to the cave’s medbay, and honestly, Jason found himself on Bruce’s side in this. As much as he liked to distrust the entire Bat clan, he knew they’d give everything they had to make sure Tim was okay, while the hospital was only giving Tim their best care because of the “Wayne” tacked onto the end of his name. Jason had been about to demand Bruce bring him back to the cave no matter what, but Oracle butted in, telling him that Tim been shot as Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne in broad daylight. Bruce couldn’t take Tim home, not without raising some very complicated questions.

So that led them here. Jason being slammed full-force in the face with how much he’d let himself care about the tiny little toothpick, unable to make himself move for fear that Tim would slip away in the one moment he was gone. (Once he’d come back to life and seen how chummy Dick was with Bruce all of a sudden, he’d always expected Dick to drag him back kicking and screaming. He never thought Tim’s unobtrusive yet steady presence, doing his tech work in exchange for food, would lead to the word brother coming to his lips as easy as a breath.)

Next to him, Conner shuffled, and snapped Jason out of his thoughts. “I thought Nightwing would be here.” A statement, subtly posed as a question.

But, still one Jason had an answer to. “Deep cover. A mission he’d been planning for weeks. He doesn’t know.” And he would probably throw a fit about it too, when he came back. Even Jason had to wince a bit at the horrible sense of déjà vu Dick would end up feeling.

“So they sent you instead,” Conner said, and his tone was simple, but Jason found himself getting heated anyway.

“What, you thought the fill-in for Big Bird would be a little better?”

Jason was just burning for a fight, the helplessness he felt at being able to do nothing but sit in a low-quality plastic chair skating up his body and down his arms, forcing his fingers to curl in a fist. He expected the other boy to rise to the bait, having heard Tim’s complaints on how hot-headed Superboy was.

But something about their current situation caused Conner to just turn and glare at him flatly instead. “You once put him a hospital bed, too. Don’t act like you care about him now when you would’ve celebrated this a couple years ago.” His tone was dismissive, and that dug under Jason’s skin much more than he expected.

“Well then, it’s a good thing time travel’s reserved for the speedsters, huh? ‘Cause lucky for you, I’m not the same guy I was a couple years ago,” Jason replied scathingly. The next words were ripped from Jason’s throat, and he could almost see the blood splattered on them. “That’s my brother in the shitty hospital bed right there.”

“Yeah? And how long have you even cared about that ‘brother’ of yours?” There it was. Jason could see red trickling into Conner’s cheeks as he let Jason’s words get to him, and found himself oddly curious about that flush.

Still. Argument to win. “Long enough to know him,” Jason shot back. “Long enough to help piece him together after he almost broke. Where were you during that time? Fucking around with your friends or dead?”

“Trying to hold together the team that Tim helped build,” Conner shifted a bit to face Jason more directly head on. “All you’ve done is tear people apart. News flash: having a sort-of truce with Tim doesn’t automatically mean your family loves you again.”

That one hurt. Years of training to keep his emotions hidden was the only thing that kept him from flinching back visibly, but Jason still felt like he’d been slapped. Because the boy was right; just because Tim liked dropping by one of his safehouses every other week doesn’t mean the rest of the family was anywhere near comfortable with him, not after all the pain he’d caused them. And he couldn’t even fault Conner on it, because it wasn’t like he was wrong and it wasn’t like it wasn’t Jason’s own damn fault.

Still. He couldn’t just let that slide. “At least my family loved me to begin with. What do you have? Megalomaniac scientists who built you from an evil billionaire who thinks of you as an experiment at best and supposedly one of the best men on Earth who still thinks you’re not worth his time.”

Too late, Jason realized his insult came out a little too scathing. Conner’s eyes widened, and Jason saw him blink back pinpricks of tears...fuck. He didn’t know when mutual antagonizing had turned into a caustic competition, but he was pretty sure Tim wouldn’t be very happy with the two of them biting each other’s heads off. And Jason was the one that goaded Conner into this to begin with, to let some of his own helpless anger loose. Conner just wanted to make sure his friend was alright.

So, slightly reluctantly, Jason said, “Sorry. That was a bit too far.”

Conner shot him a grimace. “S’okay. You’re keyed up ‘cause of Tim. I get it. You’re still a jackass, though.” After saying his bit, the other boy turned away, taking up another vigil by Tim’s bedside.

...What the hell. It wasn’t like Jason had lied, anyway. If there was one person that had worse daddy issues than Jason did, it was this poor son of a bitch. Back when he was first catching glimpses of updates on what happened in the larger superhero world while he was letting green overtake his mind, he’d marveled a bit at Superboy, and the way the Justice League seemed to speak about it. How bad do you have to be to be Superman’s own son, (sorta), and still have him hold you at arms length. But after Tim’s stories, and after meeting him now, Jason was pretty sure Superman was in the wrong.

You really couldn’t trust anyone, could you?

“Nah. You’re right,” Jason said. “God knows none of the Bats want anything to do with me, so this stupid sort-of truce with this stupid brother’s all I got.”

Conner glanced over at him, surprised. Jason couldn’t blame him, he was a little taken aback at how easily the confession had spilled out of him too. They both knew how closed off people in their line of work were, but Conner seemed to take Jason’s words as an olive branch.

“You were right too. Found out the fun way that parents aren’t worth shit. So the team’s all I got, and Tim’s a big part of that.”

“The kid fucking hates you,” Jason said, putting some good-natured humor into his words to let Conner know he wasn’t entirely serious. “Loves you to death, but complains about you to me all the time.”

Conner snorted. “Look who’s talking. Every week at Titans Tower, it’s all ‘Jason won’t stop scaring off all my informants’ and ‘Jason spit on my copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.’”

“You can’t blame me for that last one, aight?”

“No, I agree with you,” Conner said. “That movie was terrible. I don’t know why Tim likes it.”

“Because he’s a goddamn loser,” Jason said. He couldn’t say he was expecting Conner to know who he was, much less from stories Tim had told him. But it felt...good, in a way. Nice to be recognized by his media tastes instead of his bone-chilling reputation. Nice to know that the guy Tim wouldn’t shut up about to him knew who he was.

Silence fell in between them again, but it was comfortable, mutually acknowledged and let rest. Jason didn’t break it when Conner stood up, brushed a kiss to Tim’s hair, and left the hospital much quieter than he came. Jason didn’t break it when he made to leave either, squeezing Tim’s hand and mentally willing him to heal faster. Jason didn’t break it all the way home.

The next day found Jason in a similar position. The positive side of being a mob boss: he didn’t have much in the way of a day job. He didn’t know why cramming himself into an uncomfortable position to stare, with a tight throat, at a kid in a medically induced coma was what he decided to do with his day.

Maybe because the kid had grown on him, latched onto his heart like a leech and didn’t let go until Jason could ruffle his hair and think of him as a little brother without physically throwing up.

And maybe because he wanted to see Conner again. He didn’t know why, but their brief talk yesterday had loosened something inside his chest. He was used mulling over his regrets, used to Bruce condemning him and giving up on him as a lost cause, used to Dick trying to brush everything aside and form a bond with him again. He wasn’t used to someone staring his sins in the face, then shrugging and forgiving him.

Forgiveness was much lighter and much less guilt-ridden than Jason expected, and he wanted more of it. From the way Conner had sunk into the same line of thinking as Jason, he wanted more of it too.

Conner didn’t disappoint him, but Jason wasn’t sure when he’d gotten his hopes up high enough to be disappointed in the first place. Calmer, now that he knew Tim was doing better, Conner leaned against the doorframe of hospital room, staring at their resident comatose with a little frown on his lips.

Jason took the time to study him. A black leather jacket stretched across his shoulders, a little more showy than the practical brown one draped across the back of the chair Jason was sitting on. He supposed it fitted in with Superboy’s theme, because anyone who wore that pinwheel-bright costume with the fucking thigh holster Jason saw pictures of online was more than a little showy. There wasn’t much proof of in his simple t-shirt and jeans, though, and Jason almost would’ve been disappointed if it weren’t for the earring hanging from his left earlobe and the tall black boots with glinting metal lace hooks that stretched up their length. Jason bet he owned the exact pair of fingerless gloves that were wrapped around Conner’s wrists right now.

In all of Tim’s vivid descriptions of the guy, Jason never realized how much he had in common with the guy, at least cosmetically.

“How’s he doing?” Conner asked, and jolted Jason out of his reverie. He didn’t make any indication he caught Jason looking, but Jason eyed him in slight embarrassment just in case.

Realizing that Conner was actually waiting for an answer, Jason cleared his throat and leaned forward a bit from his relaxed sprawl. “They say they’ll bring him out of it tomorrow, then a week here before he can go home. That is, if he doesn’t wake up on his own. The doctors say they’re astounded at how fast he’s recovering.”

Conner snorted, then stepped fully into the room. “Can you build up an immunity to injury? Or, like, have your body develop a mini healing factor or something? Just based on the kind of shit we’ve gone through over the years?”

Jason didn’t miss the way Conner put feather’s touch more emphasis on “we,” or the way his eyes flicked over to Jason. “At this point, I’m sure it’s the only way we’ve stayed alive so long.”

“No you didn’t,” Conner chuckled.

Jason’s head whipped up, staring at the other boy with disbelief threading through his mind. It had taken months for Dick to start making death jokes, and even then, he hesitated a bit, as if making sure Jason was okay with it. But after one meeting, Conner just steamrolled ahead, every bit as confident as he appeared to be. Jason found himself laughing too, with genuine amusement albeit a little punched out.

Crossing the room to seat himself in the remaining plastic chair, Conner sunk down with a sigh. “I just want him to wake up already.”

“Yeah, well. Who doesn’t?” Jason said, feeling unreasonably a little disappointed. Of course Conner wanted to talk about Tim, that was the whole reason he’d come to the hospital in the first place. He’d only known Jason for an hour, and a large part of that was spent trading insults back and forth. Of course he didn’t want to talk about how Jason was doing.

“So,” Conner said, turning away from the hospital bed. “How are you doing?”

Or maybe he did. Jason didn’t know what to call the little bubble of satisfaction that flew up his throat and popped in his mouth. “Not bad. Life as a mob boss is kinda boring, whaddya know. You?”

“Playing den mother for a bunch of hypercompetent yet cluelessly stupid baby superheroes is not how I imagined my life going.”

“Playing den mother?”

Conner wrinkled his nose, in a motion that was in no way cute, honestly kind of gross and flat. Jason found himself staring nonetheless. “Bart used to call me Team Mom back when we founded the team, and it caught on. Now, Cassie leads, but since even she says it, everyone fucking says it. They ask me for granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“And?”

Conner sighed. “I give them granola bars and money to buy movie tickets.”

“There you go,” Jason said, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

“I swear I’m not usually this lame,” Conner pleaded, and his half-smile was aimed straight towards Jason.

“No, no, I believe you. Tim’s told me stories,” Jason said. “Didn’t you once throw some guy into a police car so hard, the car dented and they had to call in a helicopter so the guy didn’t die on the way to the hospital?”

Conner flushed, and Jason found it just as entrancing as last time. “He tried to touch Cassie,” he explained. “And she can take care of herself more than well, I know. I just got a bit...overprotective.”

Jason just laughed. “Don’t worry. I thought it was badass.”

“Really?” Conner’s lips twisted into a sour smile. “Because the League thought it was proof of my, fuck, what was it? Violent, destructive tendencies mirrored on a smaller scale of the schemes of Lex Luthor. Something along those lines.”

Shaking his head with desideration, Jason scoffed. “Sounds about accurate. Besides, you don’t wanna know what the League thinks of me.”

“What?”

“Aside from, like, Joker and Two-Face and Mad Hatter and shit, Red Hood is one one of Batman’s most powerful and dangerous rogues, and must be stopped at all costs.”

Conner was laughing before Jason even finished talking. “I love that for you,” he said. “You’re just so powerful and dangerous. I’m quaking in my boots.”

Jason shoved him lightly, and felt Conner give way on purpose, ignoring how natural and easy the motion felt. “Whatever you say, Luthor Lite.”

“Well, guess I found my new superhero name,” Conner said, finger held up to his chin in mock-thought as if musing something extremely important.

“It’s perfect,” Jason said. “And here we have Conner Kent, ordinary punk-rock farmer. But he’s hiding a secret! When his ‘violent and destructive tendencies’ come out, he turns into...Luthor Lite!”

The two of them collapsed into muffled laughter, Jason stifling his noise by biting his lip and Conner putting his head in the crook of his arm to hide his red face. Pity, Jason liked that flush.

Straightening up with a sigh, Conner offered Jason a little grin. Crimson was still creeping along his cheekbones and the edge of his jaw, and Jason was suddenly struck by the urge to trace it.

“Kon,” Conner said.

“What?”

“Call me Kon,” Conner said. “Everyone does.”

“Kon, huh? With a K, right?” Jason asked, then nodded thoughtfully when Conner made a noise of affirmation. “Is it Kryptonian or something?”

A rueful expression stole it’s way onto Conner’s face, mischievous lips and daring eyes staring at Jason as if challenging him. “Yeah. Kon-el. Kryptonian for ‘abomination’. It’s what they thought of clones.”

A pause. Then, “Wow.” Jason bust out laughing for the second time. “That’s metal as fuck. Good for you, Kon.”

“Says the guy who took the name of the person who killed him, then twisted it into something so horrifying that now, no one else associates it with anything other than you.”

“Is that judgement I hear?”

“Respect,” Kon said, and his smile was oddly shy, the first time he’d shown that emotion since he’d met Jason. Jason liked the way it looked on him; it suited him oddly well.

They were quiet for a minute, grinning at each other like buffoons, but Jason couldn’t find the heart to stop. Eventually, Kon stood up and rolled out his shoulders to stretch. “I gotta get going. I’m meeting Bart and Cassie, updating them about Tim.”

“They’re waking Tim up in the afternoon,” Jason said. “Bruce is gonna be here, plus Steph. So I’d stay clear.”

“Gotcha, thanks. I’ll come in the morning.”

A proposition, if Jason ever saw one, and there was no way he could have refused. “I’ll be here,” he said, and kept his eyes on Kon until he rounded a corner, away from sight.

Kon was already there when Jason came to visit Tim the next day, and he gave him a friendly, if a tad flirtatious, smile. Jason responded, accidentally putting too much emotion into the greeting than he would have liked, but it made Kon brighten, so Jason didn’t feel too bad.

Dropping heavily into what had become “his” chair, Jason shrugged off his jacket. He gave himself a mental high-five when he noticed Kon staring at his shoulders, but made no motion to address it.

“If all goes to plan, he’ll be the same annoying little prep boy that’s always annoying the hell out of me by tonight,” Jason said.

“He’ll be fine,” Kon said, and his voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of confidence curling around his words. He sounded like he had utter faith in Tim. Jason wished some of that would bleed over.

“He’s a tough little shit,” Jason said, then repeated Kon’s words. “He’ll be fine.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“Hm?” Jason raised an inquiring brow. “Oh, I’m all good It’s not me that’s hurt.”

“Jason,” Kon snorted. “If I have learned anything over the past two days, it is the fact that you are most definitely not ‘all good.’”

“Yeah well,” Jason said. “You’re one to talk.”

Kon made a noncommittal noise, and shrugged as if to say what can you do? “We’ve all got issues. But I get the feeling that you’re not as closed off and angry as you let people believe. Or maybe you are, but you don’t want to.”

Jason bit back the first response that came into his mind, telling Kon that no, he was closed off and angry, just not with him. But that wasn’t the truth, and he definitely didn’t have the courage to say it out loud. So instead, he said, “Maybe. Not gonna lie, from the way Tim and everyone talks about you, I was expecting more...”

“Cocky little frat boy?” Kon asked, smirking.

“More or less.”

Kon sighed, then looked down to where his hands were fiddling with each other. “Superman doesn’t act like a cocky little frat boy. Neither does Lex Luthor.”

“You’re not either of them,” Jason said, realization pouring into his mind like spilled oil. “You’re not either of them, but no one else seems to get that, so you make it as obvious as possible.”

“A couple people got that eventually,” Conner said, looking up at Tim with a soft smile. “Not many, though. And none as quickly as you.”

Kon leaned back, level with Jason now, turned to face him, something on his face that Jason couldn’t read. The chairs seemed much closer than Jason could remember, but he wasn’t very much banking on his memory right now.

“Yeah, well,” Jason said, feeling a little lame. “What can I say. Misery likes company, and companies read each other through water.”

“Never heard that one before.”

“I came up with it,” Jason said.

“I like it,” Kon smiled, then leaned forward with an ease Jason had been determined to build up first.

A little peeved at Kon beating him to it, Jason closed the distance first, the kiss probably a little too rough. But given the way they’d met, Jason felt like the bite he gave Kon was justified, even if the other boy was invulnerable.

Jason had made plenty of bad decisions in his life, and he knew exactly what they felt like. This wasn’t one of them. There was no chance that the way Kon’s hands coming up to cup Jason’s face, dragging his nail down Jason’s jaw, was anything other than good. No chance the way Kon’s soft hair suddenly threaded through his fingers was anything other than soft, no chance the soft noise Kon made in the back of his throat was anything other than delightful.

Yeah, Jason knew bad decisions. And despite the avalanche of bad decisions that seemed to make up every inch of Jason, from his scarred hands to his chipped nails, despite the pile-up of thoughtless ideas that led to this boy being made, despite how intimately familiar Jason was with regrets, he was certain Conner Kent wasn’t one of them.

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

this was almost 4k what the fuck

also. please imagine tim waking up to see his best friend and older brother aggressively making out in the plastic hospital chairs next to him.

anway, suddenly i have a new ship.

imma post this on ao3 later, it got a bit long

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump

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fruityutas · 3 years

Text

heart-shaped box

taglist ~ @puppywritings , @xiaojours , @svchengss , @prettyjaems

part of @du0tine ‘s 21 ways to kill your lover collab

cannibal!stalker!sicheng x reader

not proofread

genre ~ horror, angst, suggestive but no smut

wc ~ 2.5k

warnings ~ the following writing is FICTION and has very heavy and unsettling themes like murder, stalking, and cannibalism. if these themes are triggering or otherwise uncomfortable to you, do NOT read this story.

synopsis ~ you meet sicheng unexpectedly when out for groceries. he seems to be the most normal person in the room, but what you don’t know can’t hurt you, can it?

the basis of all life is the heart. it beats so we can have oxygen delivered to our organs. it is precious and works hard to let us live. one must protect it at all costs, never let it weaken, not even from love.

sicheng walks the aisles of the store slowly, inspecting each item, analyzing its contents. he keeps his focus until it’s interrupted by a sweet voice. yours. “excuse me?” his gaze floats to meet yours. you stood before him, smiling shyly. “can i help you?” sicheng stands straight, his figure taller than you’d expected. “um, i just need help getting that box of cereal off the top shelf.” his eyes follow your arm up to the top shelf, the cereal clearly out of reach for you. he grabs it and hands it to you. “thank you so much! i really didn’t want to climb the shelves.” the giggle that accompanies your statement makes his ears turn red. sicheng is enthralled by you, your scent, the soft tendrils of hair cascading down your shoulders, your sweet smile. he feels the urge come up. one he hadn’t had in months. Obsession. sicheng knew he’d be seeing you more, he’d make sure of it. “it’s not a problem…” “oh! y/n, that’s my name.” you laugh awkwardly, the pause between him implying to ask your name a bit too long. he grins and nods before wishing you a good day.

it hadn’t been hard to find your sns, a foreigner in mainland china was rare. the pictures you posted did no justice to what you truly looked like. you’d be a good addition to his collection of hearts stolen. he doesn’t follow you and doesn’t like any posts. he has to stay invisible for the time being. he finds out the college you attend and lurks there whenever possible to figure out your schedule. the first two days gives him what he needs, now he stays just to see you. sicheng eventually gets the gall to trek closer to the actual campus, sitting on the benches of the park on the edge of it. you spot him one day, waving at him. strike one. you make your way over to him and sit beside him. strike two. your compassion was going to be your downfall. “fancy seeing you here! are you a student?” sicheng knows better than to lie, so he says no. “i just like to sit at this park from time to time, it’s very relaxing.” you hum in response. “well, i have to get going to my next class, but it was pleasant seeing you again!” he nods and sends you off with a smile, but little do you know, he’s planning the main course for his next feast.

you see, sicheng and his six friends are all what some would call disgusting and horrible people. they don’t understand though, the delicacies of the human body. eating together brings you closer, but eating a person brings you impossibly close. but sicheng was a smart man, and he didn’t need people to call him disgusting, so he prefers to keep his tendencies in the closet.

sicheng’s daily routine rarely changed. he got up, fed his cat, made breakfast, ate, showered, and went to work. though he didn’t need to work, his parents had left him an empire of wealth to live off. he got bored with no work, so he decided to use some of the said wealth to get a degree and use it. and what better degree than a doctorate in biology? he used it to his advantage, he knew the exact cuts to make, and how the body could be used. throughout his cannibalistic diet, he’d eaten nine people. sicheng had picky tastes, though. no minors, no one over 30, and absolutely no one he didn’t deem pretty enough. gender wasn’t an issue, sicheng admired both. his victims were unsuspecting, falling for his good looks and seemingly sweet personality. sicheng would usually bed them before killing them because while eating someone connects them to you, he felt as if sex powered it more.

the next time sicheng sees you, it’s at the grocery store again. he uses this as his chance to try for your number. “fate really wants us to see each other huh?” you laugh at the coincidence. he gives a small chuckle back. “well since fate wants us to see each other, maybe i can take the chance and ask for your number?” his question takes you back, and you turn red in slight embarrassment. “well, of course you can, but i’m not looking for a relationship right now, so just friends?” annoyance spreads through sicheng, but he agrees nonetheless. this would make it hard but not impossible.

for the next week sicheng was texting you and gaining your trust. you’d agreed to meet up with him at a cafe for a “friend date” as he put it. he offers to pick you up, and you naively give him your address. sicheng is getting closer to what he wants, and it’s making him giddy. the outing goes well and sicheng takes you home. he lurks around that night, though, and sees you leave your house dressed up nicely. a car pulls up and a man gets out to greet you. sicheng’s blood boils. how were you not looking for a relationship when clearly you were going on a date with this man?

the entire night, sicheng watches and follows your every move. his rage heightened each time the man touches you. you were his, not anyone else’s. sicheng clearly had to get rid of this problem. he’s done it before, and even though he won’t be dining on this man, his friends will. there is never a wasted meal between the seven of them. a quick phone call to kun, to who he gives the address of the restaurant, and the man is taken care of. sicheng decides to leave before he gets mad enough to do the job himself.

not a word is mentioned by sicheng, because if he did, you’d know he followed you. the “friend dates” continued and sicheng was as unsuspecting as any normal person, but behind the scenes, his obsession grew. he was getting impatient, he wanted to have you now. but he just couldn’t push it. you were becoming more flirty with him after the other guy stood you up. at least, that’s what you told sicheng, not knowing the man was long dead and eaten.

“sicheng, are you alright?” your honey voice pulls him out of his thoughts and back to reality. he nods feverishly and shoots a shy smile, one that hides his true intentions. today is the day, he thought. nothing could stand between him and your extravagance. you smile at him, and place a hand on his arm. “would you like to come to my apartment? i have water and medicine if you don’t feel well.” of course, he agrees. his plan was coming together. throughout the last seven years, the nine victims he’s claimed have all been to his basic standards.

taeil, the street musician he encountered while still in high school. he was the first, a quite easy job, as he was desperate to find connections to anyone -street performing wasn’t enough to pay the bills- and sicheng was just the perfect person for that.

yeri, his first girlfriend. sicheng had a lot of fun with her, she was almost always yearning for him, begging for sex whenever the chance arose. but sicheng grew tired of her constantness and got rid of her.

irene, his best friend’s aunt. she was much too old for sicheng when he’d fucked her, but she was just too cunning to pass up. her seductive nature got the best of sicheng, and her kill was his most gruesome to date, the anger of falling for another’s trick clouded his mind.

yuta, his first true love. sicheng doesn’t regret killing his lover, but the heavy guilt of what could have been had sicheng not been this way weighs on his mind at all times.

yangyang, the small cousin that annoyed him to no end. sicheng showed no emotion at the boy’s funeral, and he was the only family member he’d killed.

wendy, the girl from college. she was also in the medical department and had a small crush on sicheng. he used this to his advantage, killing her swiftly and secretly.

jaehyun, the secret boyfriend. his junior year of undergrad school was filled with parties at frat houses, and jaehyun being the president of one proved sicheng showing up to many of them. jaehyun was a whore in every sense of the word, and it extended towards men.

renjun, the only other chinese boy in his graduate school. sicheng was a mentor to him, and even cared deeply for the boy. but renjun wasn’t special, he was still just another meal to be consumed.

seulgi, his dance partner. many days after school were spent fucking her in the dance studio on campus, until one day he got tired of her. the dance studio was closed for weeks due to the amount of blood.

and finally you. you were different from the rest, you were the tenth victim, and the fifth girl. an even number of victims, something he took pride in achieving. he knew he had to do something special for you. the pink heart-shaped box he’d got to hold the very organ it was modeled after. it had golden details painted on, and the latch had a pearl on it. sicheng thought it was beautiful, and the perfect thing to hold your heart. he was going to keep it close to him, as a token of remembrance.

the way back to your apartment was filled with sensual touches and flirty kisses on each other. it wasn’t far from the small cafe you both chose to eat at, so the walk wasn’t too long. a passerby would look and see what appears to be a happy couple when the reality of the situation was much darker. sicheng was hungry, and you were the main course. the door to the apartment was in sight when a policeman stopped the two of you. sicheng hides his annoyance well and puts up an unsuspecting front. “good evening, officer.” the officer nods before speaking to you. “miss, you were one of the last people to see johnny suh last week. do you know anything about his whereabouts?” the shock from his sentence washed over your face as you shook your head no. “i ate with him last tuesday, and arranged another meeting, but he never showed nor answered his phone and i haven’t seen him since.” the officer nods and writes a few things down before turning to sicheng. “and do you maybe know anything about him?” sicheng analyzes the picture of the man he sent kun to kill, almost smiling. “no sir, i’ve never seen him before unfortunately.” the officer nods again and thanks the both of you for the help.

sicheng starts to rush along, wanting to complete the task at hand. the walk up the stairs to your door seemed endless, tunnel vision forming at the thought of what was about to go down. an evil smirk graced sicheng’s features, and as the sunset glowed down on you, he knew your time on earth was ending soon. you both didn’t get even a foot in the door before sicheng was all over you, kisses exchanged between clashing of teeth, hands roaming everywhere that was in reach. clothes discarded around the floor, not to be worried about until later. the only thing that mattered to sicheng right now was getting you in bed. he guides you there quickly, kisses getting messy, the rest of your undergarments gone. the only sounds in the room were the escaping moans from you and the creaking of the bed.

you’re fast asleep, sicheng makes sure of this. he creeps around your kitchen and finds a knife suitable for his art. the gloves he brought already on, he picks the knife up and examines his reflection. he sees himself as a wonderful human, there are no flaws in him, he is the perfect being. his trek back to your room is hasty, his excitement barely contained. he is moments away from having the best meal of his life.

his body hovered over your sleeping figure. how peaceful you looked, soft breathing, a neutral look on your face. it was such a shame that you’d be dead in less than a few minutes. sicheng took his time preparing his weapon, the carving knife shining in the moonlight. he silently plans out where to take the first stab, even a small error would result in a faulty kill. the pink heart-shaped box in his bag yelling at him to hurry up and do it. taking in a deep breath, sicheng raises the knife, but only enough to get momentum. as he plunges it into your chest, he covers your mouth as to not let the scream out. he can’t have anyone hearing this, for obvious reasons. you awake to a painful sensation. eyes still raw with sleep, you scan your surroundings as best you can, the painful burning almost too much. the figure above you looks familiar, and you thrash around to get away from him. the sleep now long gone and adrenaline coursing your veins, you realize it was the man you’d been seeing around often, sicheng. you try to get away from him, but he is inevitably stronger than you.

“you’re only making this harder for yourself.” his voice comes out deep and full of annoyance. you pay it no mind and continue to wriggle your body, though it is slowly weakening. sicheng continues to carve around your heart, and you try to scream out but the large hand on your mouth blocks it. the pain is unbearable at this point, and you find yourself losing this fight. your skin pales at blood loss and you start to lose consciousness. the last thing you hear before the dark was sicheng’s sultry voice whispering in your ear. “my present to me is the only means of life you’ve got left.”

you go limp in his arms, your heart ripped from its cavity. sicheng takes one glove off to grab the box, placing the heart inside it gently. he admires his work, standing and taking pictures to save for later. he thinks about how delicious you will taste. sicheng simply cannot wait to be fully connected to you, the excitement making him hurry with transporting you to his house so you can be prepared. sicheng calls up kun, and the only thing he says before hanging up is simple. “tonight, we shall feast on a delicate one.”

the basis of all life is the heart, and you let yours be taken by a man you truly didn’t know.

#neowritingsnet #nshitty-frathouse #unfortunatus: inferno #nct #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 #wayv #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv sicheng #sicheng x reader #sicheng scenarios #dong sicheng

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yzkhr · 4 years

Text

For the entirety of his 20 years of existence, Kudo Shinichi finds himself in one of the most difficult situations.

Everything was going so smoothly. He already had enough clues to figure out who the suspect was. All he needed was evidence to prove his surmises. It was all according to his plans.

Not until the suspect kidnapped Ran.

He should have seen that coming. After all, when the Conan incident ended with his name plastered all over Japanese Television for defeating one of the most notorious criminal organizations in the world, stuff like this happened afterwards.

If they can't target him to shut him up, they'll target the ones he care for. It happened more than once already, but everyone Shinichi knows can defend themselves(he's actually the easiest one to attack).

Hattori Heiji is a fellow detective who can swing a sword really well, Tooyama Kazuha knows Aikido, Masumi Sera is a Jeet Kune Do specialist, his parents are out of the question—or out of the country—, professor Agasa has his inventions, Ai with her scary scientific knowledge, the detective boys' unbeatable luck, Suzuki Sonoko with her boyfriend being the world's strongest security, the FBI and first division are a no go, and even the british detective Hakuba Saguru and phantom thief Kaito Kid can easily fend attackers off.

But the one who's always been the primary victim would be his girlfriend, Mouri Ran. Most of time, he doesn't worry one bit. After all, he knew more than anyone else just how much impact she can do with her karate—the Conan aftermath was proof of his girlfriend's ridiculous strength— and would even be afraid for the criminal, feeling sorry for their battered bodies afterwards. But today was a different matter. Ran was sick and couldn't possibly defend herself in her bad condition.

He believed himself to be a forgiving and understanding man. Being Edogawa Conan taught him a lot of things, including little compassion and sympathy towards even to the most horrible of culprits.

But this man was different. Not only did he involved Ran who had no idea of what's going on, he didn't hesitate, even after knowing she was sick and defenseless.

Shinichi was a kind man through and through, but concerning his innocent and ill girlfriend was a different matter.

Now, he stood on the rooftop of the criminal's twenty floor apartment building, anger barely contained. The man was grinning in that deranged way of his, while holding his girlfriend with a small but clearly sharp knife at her neck. What makes matters worse, was that they're at the very edge, one wrong move and both of them could be flat at the ground, bones broken.

Just from that alone, Shinichi was itching to shoot the man with his pistol but restrained himself. What almost pushed him to doing so however was his girlfriend's tired and pained expression, from her fever and the current predicament.

With the wind blowing furiously, it doesn't take a genius to know that Ran was freezing, specially with her condition.

He blocked out his primitive reaction of shooting the man for now, and willed himself to finish the issue faster, for Ran's sake.

"Listen, you can still go back from this! Just drop the knife and walk away from the edge!"

He shouted, taking two steps towards the two of them. The man only grinned even wider, as if finding something funny about his words.

"Why would I go back there? To just go in jail!? I'd rather die!"

'If you wanna die, then die. Don't take my girl with you!', were the words he wanted to say but decided against it.

Instead, he treaded nearer, trying to look as innocent as possible to not alarm his target.

"You knew what you did was wrong! You'll just have to repent it in prison for a few years! You can't go back from dying!"

The man wasn't having it. He gripped tighter against Ran's neck with his knife getting dangerously close. Shinichi's initial thought was to sprint, but managed to catch himself on time.

"That bitch deserved it you know! She cheated on me when I gave her my everything! I only did what was right for her! What she deserved!"

The man was going crazier by the second. Not that Shinichi could blame him. For all he knew, the suspect was a respectable man who loved his wife very much but it turned out she was cheating on him with another man.

Shinichi couldn't even imagine that happening to him. Even back then as Conan, Ran's faithfulness was so strong that something like cheating or attraction to other men didn't even cross his mind(except with Araide's case, Okita's case and many others).

Still, murder is murder. The husband could have dealt with it in a more rational way but he didn't, causing him to spiral downwards to madness.

Well, Shinichi will most likely go towards the same path as well if he would be unable to save Ran.

"You shouldn't have killed her! She was wrong! Cheating on your partner is stupid and unforgivable! But what you're doing right now is the same! You're only commiting murder! So please, turn yourself in. You can still change."

It seemed to have worked, with the culprit's grin dissipating and his hold on Ran loosening. Shinichi fasten his pace, while the man was still contemplating. But before he can even reach his end goal, the suspect looked at him with vicious but hurt eyes, tears forming.

"You're right. I shouldn't have done something so terrible. But I can't go back now. I can't go to jail."

All the detective could do was to stand there, disheartened by this man's irrationality. He was so close, just a few more steps and it would had been over.

Seeing as the suspect's humanity slipping away, Shinichi tried to take one tentative step at a time.

Before he can even put his right foot in front of him, the man violently shakes Ran, causing Shinichi to froze at his spot.

All his girlfriend could do was slightly whimper, still weak from her fever. The wind wasn't getting any calmer and it was bad for Ran.

"Stop this! Please! Give Ran back to me!"

The desperation was leaking but he didn't care. He was too worried for her to even think of something like pride right now. It wasn't helping that the man was slightly getting unstable from their spot at the edge.

"I'll give your girlfriend back to you in one condition."

The man eyed Shinichi with determined eyes and he didn't like it one bit.

"Call the police right now and tell them that the culprit is my wife's other man."

The detective thought he didn't hear him correctly but the expression on the culprit's face was telling him otherwise.

"Why would I even do that? I'm a detective, my job is to reveal the truth!"

The suspect laughed and the tip of his weapon was now touching his girlfriend's neck. Ran tried to wiggle out from the pain but the man kept her still. Shinichi couldn't do anything but widen his eyes and tried to run at her, only to be stopped by their culprit's daring looks.

"Don't come any closer or I'll slit your girl's throat!"

Seeing his pursuer's conflicted reaction, the suspect's smile was back, even more disturbing than before, lacking of any human compassion he might have had left of him.

"If you know the truth, then you can easily twist it right? You're the great detective Kudo Shinichi! Everyone will believe you!"

"I can't possibly do that!"

Hearing his resolute answer, the culprit slowly averted his eyes towards Ran.

"Not even for you lover?"

He couldn't answer. Because how could he? Choosing between the truth he valued and his most precious person was impossible.

Seconds passed but Shinichi didn't let a word out. He only stared at his girlfriend, with contrast beliefs and emotions swirling in them. The man was getting impatient but before he could speak, a new voice entered.

"Don't do it."

For the first time, Ran spoke. Her voice was hoarse and guttural, but she made sur eit can be heard.

Everything in her body hurts. From her legs that's been almost dangling down the edge, her arms weakly flailing on her side, her stomach wanting to throw up, her entire being physically burning and being cold at the same time. She felt horrible and wanted nothing but to karate chop her kidnapper.

But right now, her focus was on Shinichi, like it has always been whenever they were together. He looked tired, running all the way here from her house where he found out about her disappearance.

He was in deep thought and his eyes were conflicted on what to choose. She knew just how important she was to him, specially after knowing the lengths he had gone through as Conan to protect her. But, she's also aware of his morals and love for the truth.

Ever since they were kids, being a the greatest detective in the world like his idol, Sherlock Holmes had always been Shinichi's biggest dream. It started off as something silly but as they grew older, his dream didn't looked so far away. From all his struggles and successes, Ran was there. She knew all the hard work he put in his job just so he can achieved his childhood wish. She was present in all the steps he took to be this great. To be the Sherlock Holmes of the modern era.

Now, that dream was on the danger of being crushed. If he were to do what the culprit wanted, Shinichi would also lose his chance to achieve his goal. And Ran didn't want that.

"Don't do it."

She said, line more vivid than before.

He didn't know what to say. He wanted to asked her if she was fine, but she clearly wasn't.

"Ran, I-"

"Don't. Please, Shinichi."

He wanted to apologize, because he'll disappoint her with his answer. Yet, he wasn't able to, with Ran not letting him.

She wanted him to choose his morals, but he would lose her. He don't want to—can't—lose her.

However, her next words were what really made his decisions clear.

"Don't lose your dream for me. Please."

Ran wanted to cry but held it in. She needed all her energy for her last move and crying won't save her or anyone.

The man was getting more and more impatient. He waved the knife around blindly, making Shinichi stepped back a little.

Ran wished from the bottom of her heart a distraction could come for her plan to work. But since she didn't have any time, she'll just make one herself.

"You're trying to kill someone innocent. You're not right about anything at all. You're just a killer."

The culprit's attention went to her almost in an instant, fury present in his eyes.

"Silence, woman! Girls like you are all the same with your pretty faces thinking you can get any man! Not being contented with one man who would give his all! Vile! That's what women are! They're vile!"

She wanted to protest, because she's not the same. She'll never be the same. Just the thought of cheating on her lover already makes her want to puke. She would never cheat. After all, Shinichi was enough.

But she had to pretend he wasn't.

"That's right! We're cheaters! Vile people! We never cared about you men at all!"

'What is she doing?'

Shinichi was extremely confused. Ran was obviously lying, trying to provoke the man holding her at a knife point.

'Why would she even try to make someone aggressive when they're in the literal--'

As his mind reached it's conclusion, Shinichi didn't waste any time to move. However, it was a little too late.

The man was already losing his balance himself, making him vulnerable. Ran, with her remaining strength, wished to all gods her plan would work.

Albeit her left arm was tired, she steeled it with everything she got, elbowing the man's stomach and making him instinctively let go of her.

He stumbled forward, while she inevitably stumbled on the opposite direction. Down.

She closed her eyes, succumbing herself to the fall. However, a familiar presence force it to open, and she did.

There, falling with her was the love of her life, who was supposed to be at the rooftop arresting the man. Instead, he was reaching out to her, ready to die.

Suddenly feeling all the pain and tiredness, against her mental protest, she blacked out.

It was a good thing Hattori was there when he went back at the office temporarily. His best friend noticed his strange actions and decided to follow him.

Knowing that they were in a pretty tight spot and seeing Ran and the culprit at the edge, the Osakan detective dashed to find a trampoline, in case of the worst case scenario. Fortunately, he managed to hugged Ran's unconscious form and guide her through the unexpected trampoline while falling down.

Shinichi truly owed Hattori this time.

As they walked out the police station hand in hand, Ran looked uneasy. She managed to regain conciousness when they were already at the station, making a witness report. He didn't wanna do it in Ran's condition but he knew he caused enough trouble at them already.

He squeezed her hand, letting her look at his direction.

"Is there something wrong? Don't worry we'll get home soon and you can get some rest."

Ran's eyes slightly widened at his words. She then smiled, but it was strained.

Worry taking over him, he put his forehead on hers, feeling her hot one.

Ran instinctively blushed and tried to pushed him away. However, being stubborn had always been Shinichi's strongest points, so he didn't backed down. Instead, he asked.

"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

With such a soft and gentle way of questioning, Ran couldn't help but give in and let her hands go to both sides of his handsome face,feeling his skin under her warm—felt cold to her—fingertips. Then, she breathed heavily before speaking.

"What you did was reckless. You shouldn't have jumped after me."

Shinichi regarded her a confused look.

"What wouldn't I? I didn't know Hattori was there. So I thought you would really--"

"Still, you shouldn't have done that. What if Hattori-kun wasn't there?"

"Then we would both die."

He spoke in such a calm and nonchalant manner making Ran annoyed at him not getting her point. She bunped him lightly,making Shinichi backed a little bit away.

"Ouch! What did you that for?"

"Because you were being dumb! You could have died back there Shinichi!"

He returned his forehead against her, leaning again. He closed his eyes this time, looking peaceful, like they weren't in the brink of death just a while ago.

"I could have. But so were you."

His voice was laced with pain, specially at the last part. Tears gathered around her violet irises but she willed for them not fall.

"You have a dream Shinichi. You had it since you were little."

He nodded at her words, still looking unbothered even with the confirmation. Frustrated, she continued on.

"You would have killed yourself back there. Why didn't you listen to me? I told you didn't I? Don't give up your dream for me."

He smiled, catching her off guard. It was so sincere and bright that Ran wanted to step away. When she was about to do so however, he encircled his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as much as possible.

She opened her mouth, ready to reason out but was beaten by his answer.

"You told me to not give up my dream for you but,"

His next words left her breathless, tears finally cascading down her soft cheek.

"You are my dream, Ran."

I wrote this instead of sleeping, forgive me for its lameness.

#detective conan #shinran #one-shot

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Note

A Scenario where kai and his s/o have a really big fight He says some very hurtful things and she disappears for 3 days or something (she's at her grandparents in the hills) Ande the others are like oh shit are they gonna break up? Fluff ending tho ny heart can't handle too much angst

It feels great to write again, just got out from a writing block

"You're being irrational." He sighed in pure annoyance and rolling his eyes at his lover, whose scoffed and crossed her arms in disbelief at hearing his words.

"Am I? Or is it you that is so hard to stop being so damn arrogant for once?"

He let his pen go and hit his office's desk to send her a glare, clearly displeased by her choice of words. Normally, if it was anyone else, they would be quivering in fear at only one look of his; but this was (Y/n) whose he was talking with.

The girl was just as stubborn as him, and never once trembled neither widen her eyes in fear of him. Which caused at first for him to be extremely annoyed.

"Don't give me that look." She scowled "You know that you're in the wrong side this time."

"Sure." He scoffed sarcastically while returning his attention to his papers "Like ever argument that we have right? Oh, my bad." He send her one glare while arching his eyebrow up "You never once was right in neither of those, so what makes you think that this time is different?"

"Because it was wrong from you!" You said in exasperation "Just because a guy touched me asking for information you overhauled the poor man! Why?!"

"He was sick." He said through gritted teeth, after half of a hour of this nonsense he was getting way too impatient "Apologies if I was trying to prevent the same happening for you dearest." He said in venom sarcasm.

"Kai this is not even protecting, this is madness!" You exclaimed while his eyes grew darker and darker by the minutes it passed.

Half an hour later it passed with you two discussing and the words only got darker and offensive. His skin was already interrupting in hives while you at least tried to reason with him, but he was not having it.

"For crying out loud why can't you listen to me for once?!" You were almost ripping your hair out while he coldly stared at you, but the red spots growing on his skin showed you that he was just as fed up as you were.

"Because apparently I am dating a fucking idiot who can't even know when someone is sick or not." He said while glaring daggers in your eyes before he sighed more to himself "Why did I put myself so low to be with you?"

The moment those words left his mouth he immediately widened his eyes in realization before he looked at your hurt yet shock expression. He knew already all about your insecurities, he knew that sometimes you thought you were too little for him even if it was the exact opposite... yet he said those things.

"... (Y/n). I didn't meant that." He tried to extend his hand but you quickly took a step back away from him.

"Sorry." You said between gritted teeth as you tried to hold back the tears "But I don't want to hear it. Not anymore."

He didn't even blinked and you were already out of his office, even despite his shouts for you to come back, you didn't.

He growled out loud before propting down against his chair and resting his forehead on his gloved hand with a sigh.

You were just being childish. You knew already all about his personality and such. He just needed to give time for both of you to calm down to later sorta this thing out... maybe if he sended a precept to buy something for you would ease his issue a bit...

Returning to his work was a struggle since the only thing that sticked to his kind and made his heart clench in a horrible way was seing the hurt in your expression and the tears threating to escape from your lashes....

He growled in displeasure as his worry grew at seing another room of his house without even the sign of his lover.

No one in the base neither saw you after that petty discussion. And he was almost even expecting the damn rooftop to see if he could find you at this point.

Normally he would think that he would sound pathetic at calling your cellphone, but he was actually worried at this point.

It ringed for a bit as he walked around in the house and shortly after he scowled at hearing the ring of your cellphone coming from you guys shared room... so you were going to do that huh?

He growled again, scratching only a bit his arm before placing his cellphone back on his pocket. Noticing Chrono walking towards him he immediately arched his eyebrow, demanding answers from his commurate.

"She left."

"How and why didn't that good for nothing stoped her?" He growled while Chrono shrugged. "Where?"

"We... have no idea." He gulped a bit at the way those golden orbs darkened at his words while he turned and walked away.

He was close to his own room before he saw Pops enjoying a cup of tea on the living room. The elder, noticing his sucessor looking at him, mentioned with his hand for Chisaki to join him on the living room.

"My boy you surely surpassed yourself this time." Teh elder commented while chisaki took a seat, the young man stoically watching his eyebrows "It takes a lot to anger my daughter in law." He sipped a bit on his black tea with a serious face "And considering that I know her less than you do... I can tell you didn't measure your words. At all."

He furrowed his eyebrows before scoffing and looking at the ceiling in annoyance.

"She came talking with you then? So mature..."

"Well, I came to her actually. After all, poor thing was crying rivers alone."

His chest tightened at hearing his mentor saying such things as he hesitantly looked back at the elder, eyes closed and cup still on his hand.

"So I take it you know where she is.." the elder nodded, still eyes closed.

"You got nothing to worry. She went to spend sometime on her grandparents house, so her safety is assured."

"You can't be sure of that." He hissed while Pops sighed, finally opening hiis eyes to look properly at Chisaki with a sympathetic frow on his forehead.

"Chisaki. I take that this girl is important for you. But you also dont measure your words and actions and even if by accident hurts her deeply." He grunted a bit to lift himself "My advice is that you don't just go barging onto her family's house demanding her back. I know you. Just give some time."

The young man glared daggers at the ground while he interlocked his gloved hands together, tensing up a bit at the hand of Pops on his shoulder.

"I know how much you value her, and didn't meant those words... But you always take things way too far Chisaki." He patted Kai's shoulder a bit before lefting the young yakusa boss alone on the room, alone with his thoughts and nothing less.

Three days. Three miserable days and you still didn't even dare to send him some message if you were even alive or not.

He took Pops advice, secretly hoping that by the next day you would appear amd apologize for being long for ao long... but that didn't happened.

He was way too prideful also to admit he was fucking wrong and to look after you like some desperate dog... he felt miserable and even more less patience with his subbordinates than ever, so much that he almost overhauled Rappa for only calling him 'overjerk' on his back... something that normally he wouldn't even mind to care neither bother to be irritated with.

With your absence it came also his longing for sleep. He wouldn't admit out loud, but you were the main reason he had so many good nights of sleep; without any warnings at nights or the constant night terrors he at the past chosed to ignore it.

The guilty was slowly building up after this, he only felt disgusting shivers and scowled when he remembered those words he spoke to you and even if he sat on his office chair he would see the image replaying like a damn broken CD....

He was rubbing his temple with both hand s as he tried to concentrate on reading the tax in front of him before a knocked interrupted his actions.

"Say your name and business. And I hope is something important." He growled before the door opened slowly, the minute he went to argue with teh poor soul entering he widen his eyes a bit when he saw you entering a bit hesitantly and closing the door from behind you.

"Hey..." you said awkwardly, eyes more interested om his bookshelf than anything as you rubbed a bit your arm.

He blinked a bit before he gulped the thick air stuck on his throat.

"Y... you're back."

"I guess." You said with a bit of discomfort in your voice, probably because ever since you entered he didn't took his eyes out of you.

He slowly pushed himself up to walk towards you, some inches apart from you as your eyes were still locked with the bookshelf.

"I... I am..." he scoffed at hearing himself talking "Apologies... I didn't meant any of those atrocities, but it doesn't either erase the pain you must have felt on that time... neither me admiting will heal this, I know..."

You finally looked at him and this time it was his turn to avert his eyes from you, ashamed of his actions and the way he made the person he cared for deeply feel.

"... I should have at least told you where I was expending, I heard taht you were worried-"

"No, no." He interrupted, lifting one of his palm in gesture as the other one rubbed a bit his temple "You at least told Pops about it... neither was a obligation."

"... you mean that?" You asked, while.he looked at you in confusion "Your apology, you mean it?"

"... of course." He looked a bit down, eyes furrowed while glaring at the floor "The last thing I want is to dissapoint or hurt you... yet, I did and do thsi constantly without even noticing it...

You sighed a bit, opening your arms to wrap them around your lover carefully, feeling his body tense at the contact immediately but surprisingly relaxing shortly minutes after.

When he felt your slung coming in contact with his he swore he could feel his heartbeat almost exploding and body erupting into flames... he didn't had noticed that after three days he came to crave to feel again that angelic touch of yours on his rough skin, merely taking all of his discomfort and unpleasant nights as only annoyance of your actions...

"For you to apologize it takes a lot..." you squeezed him bit while he let out a rather shaky breath and awkwardly wrapped his arms around your midsection "I thought that you were just simple going to ignore or let go of it.."

"I couldn't." He said while brushing his fingers through your hair as he rested his head on yours "Yet you even accelt this apology...?" He frowned at feeling your nodding on his neck as he tightened his embrace on you "I will make it up... trust me angel. I will."

"Looking forward to it..." after what felt like years, he felt at ease at feeling your lips in contact with his bare skin, forming that sweet smile he came to love.

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #overhaul headcanons #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #my writing #zuffer writings

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oncebely · 4 years

Text

BASIC INFORMATION:

FULL NAME : simeon pyotrvich belskyi. MEANING : simeon, meaning he has heard. MONIKERS / NICKNAMES : none that he allows, as he has never been fond of nicknames. TITLE : prince of bely, boyar of the russian militia, lord of bely.

GENDER & PRONOUNS : cis-male, he / him ETHNICITY : white russian DATE OF BIRTH & AGE: march 21, 1527 ; 32 years of age ZODIAC SIGN : aries --- the sign that marks the beginning of something turbulent. ORIENTATION : does he even know! he was in love w yuri for about 85% of his life, and look how that turned out for him! he’s only attracted to dumbasses, that’s his sexuality. (he’s bi all around, although he is in the firm camp that yuri was an exception and he does not actually like men. this is untrue. he loves men.) MARITAL STATUS : unmarried, looking to cause trouble. >:-) OCCUPATION : prince. lord. CURRENT LOCATION : sasso corbaro, switzerland.

BACKGROUND:

PLACE OF BIRTH : bely, tvar oblast, russia. RESIDENCES : bely, tvar oblast, russia. he has not been back in a number of years. RELIGIOUS VIEWS : none anymore, although he was raised orthodox catholic and still retains a good chunk of cultural views from it. EDUCATION : as firstborn son, simeon was subject to intensive education growing up. he much preferred focusing on strategy and physical activity. a lot of details in his education have been lost; he’s much more of a practical man. LANGUAGES SPOKEN : russian, czech, latin, german, romanian, all well enough ; polish, french, english, italian, all vaguely. he has a much harder time at it than pavel. ALLEGIANCES : in short, none, although this has not always been the case.

the rurik family : simeon has died for the family. he went into a war he believed himself prepared for, and he did not come out of it the same, all for the ruling family. he grew with them, he loved them --- and he firmly believes that they betrayed him, casting him aside without thought or hesitation. and now, the family has become the center of his obsession. he carries such grief in his heart, and he wants to see them all suffer as he has, tearing themselves apart from the inside.

the belskyi family : he lived his life with the idea that he would one day take over bely, that he would step into his father’s place with pride. it has all crumbled around him, and he no longer recognizes the family as his own. there is the smallest care for pavel, but that care rests on a knife’s edge.

the ottoman empire : simeon was lost in a battle against the holy roman empire. he blames both the ottoman empire and the holy roman empire equally for this and cares for neither.

FAMILY :

parents : pyotr belskyi (deceased), anna pavlovna (deceased) --- his relationship was his father has always been complicated, but his mother was nothing but loving and kind to him. he misses her dearly.

siblings : pasha (deceased), patya (deceased), pavel (living) --- simeon was always hard on his brothers, wanting them to be strong to survive in the world. when pasha and patya died, he pulled away from pavel as well. and while their relationship has never been good, pavel is the only one that simeon does not actively seek for revenge.

OTHER FAMILIAL RELATIONS :

step - mother : irina trubetskaya (living) --- simeon has channeled most of his anger toward this one woman, the woman who has taken both the man he loved and his mother’s place. he’s a little obsessed with her!!

APPEARANCE:

FACECLAIM : kit harington. HAIR COLOUR / STYLE : black, tight curls. longer, falling just beneath his ears. he typically combs it back, although, as of late, he lets it go wild. EYE COLOUR / SHAPE : almond, brown. HEIGHT : 5′7″, a short king! BUILD : now thin (used to be a bit stockier), toned. SPEECH STYLE : deep voice, weight on each word. he tends to talk slowly and carefully, and since his return, his voice is much harsher. thick russian accent, never quite mastering other languages enough to cover it. RECOGNIZABLE MARKINGS : at this point, he is absolutely littered with scars. his most notable markings: he has one long scar on his face, along with some small burn marks on his neck. he has several slices on his chest, a stab scar on his stomach and two shallower stab marks on his right shoulder blade. the majority come from his last battle and did not heal as well as they could have, as he was left to fester for several days before being found. BEAUTY HABITS : he bathes more than regular, oftentimes scrubbing himself until he is red. it’s not a matter of vanity; a lot of the terror he has involves dirt, rot, and being buried.

PERSONALITY:

TROPES : the corrupter, byronic hero, driven to villainy, ineffectual loner. INSPIRATIONS : the concept of losing oneself to anger, judas iscariot and the idea of the betrayer, fallen angels (righteous anger, smoldering wings, monstrous ruin), werewolves (lmao), russian wilderness. MBTI : isfj-t --- introverted, observant, feeling, judging, turbulent. ENNEAGRAM : type 1 --- the reformer who has the need to improve. ALIGNMENT : lawful neutral / lawful evil. TEMPERAMENT : melancholic --- perfectionist, self-reliant. HOGWARTS HOUSE : gryffindor. POSITIVE TRAITS : focused, strategic, determined. NEGATIVE TRAITS : obsessive, unforgiving, stubborn. HABITS : sometimes, he just won’t answer, using silence itself as an answer to someone. staring. constantly touching his knife / sword handle, just to make sure it is still there. cracking knuckles. HOBBIES : anything athletic (horseback riding, archery, sparring training), used to enjoy architecture and engineering. USUAL DEMEANOR : cold, harsh, just kind of a dick?

HEALTH:

PHYSICAL AILMENTS : difficulty seeing out of one eye due to the injury that left him with a scar on his face, chronic pain from bones not healing properly, missing part of his right pinky, does not have a lot of feeling in parts of his body. it’s fine. he’s fine. NEUROLOGICAL CONDITION : OOF! intense trauma has left him with intense ptsd. he has dissociative tendencies, including amnesia and depersonalization. a lot of anger issues from it. not in a good spot, mate. PHOBIAS : absolute, horrible claustrophobia that developed after he was rescued. oftentimes, he has to open the window in his own chambers for his peace of mind. he claims not to be afraid of anything anymore; this is somewhat true. ALLERGIES : none that he knows of. SLEEPING HABITS : he will literally keep going until he just drops wherever he is. he’ll then sleep for a solid fourteen hours, get up, and keep going. he hates sleeping. SOCIABILITY : he was never particularly social, much preferring the company of one or two people. now, he really only sees people as pawns in his game of revenge, so ?? maybe more social now!?! ADDICTIONS : when he first started recovering, he drank a lot, as he did not want to be recovering. claudia quickly stopped him of this, and now he is only a social drinker. during bouts of depression, he will fall back to drinking too much. tbh, he should stop drinking altogether, but do you think he cares about his health! no!

#bgtask #a summary of simeon is just the word OOF

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radiantmists · 5 years

Text

A Playful Diversion

Read on AO3

The demon Aziraphale arrives in the Garden and takes a deep breath, smiling at the full moon above and savoring the taste of rich earth and growing things.

He looks down at his pale new body, admiring the soft rolling curves of it, and stretches just to luxuriate in the pull of the muscles below. Then he spends rather a lot of time brushing off the dirt from his travel through the ground, finding a stream to wash his face in until he’s sure he looks nothing like some of the filthy demons he’d seen down below.

(This thought comes with a prim, petty sort of disgust that feels extraordinarily satisfying, now—Pride is a sin even if it’s passive-aggressive and condescending rather than loud and bragging.)

Aziraphale wanders through the Garden after that, keeping a vague eye out for the two humans. He’s supposed to be causing trouble, and they seem to be a likely target, given Her special interest in them. He doesn’t make too much of an effort, though, not even to stay hidden; it’s not as though he could truly hide from Her anyway, so why bother? She will do what She likes, after all, so he might as well just enjoy himself. There’s no rush.

(Sloth is also a sin, but he’s a demon now; no reason he should try to be diligent.)

And he is enjoying himself. Whatever quibbles he may have had regarding the reasons for the whole thing, the Garden is gorgeous, replete with flowers and butterflies, with charming little streams and hidden nooks where the wildlife sleep peacefully. And the fruit…

Aziraphale tries everything he sees. He delights in the tartness of the raspberries and the crisp crunch of the pears, the sweetness of strawberries and the cool juice of the peach running down his chin. He finds that biting through the rind of the orange is a mistake, but ultimately the bitterness is rewarded with the sweet tang of the flesh within. After that, he starts to peel away thick skin and crack open gourds, scooping out the white meat of coconuts and cherimoya with his fingers. There’s a false start before he realizes that the good part of the pomegranate is the seeds, but once he does… oh.

(Gluttony is also, of course, a sin, when appetites are selfishly carried to excess, and Aziraphale has no thoughts of moderation.)

Pineapples and watermelon are a bit more of a challenge; while plucking gooseberries, he raises pale pink scratches on his arms, and the less said about the ordeal with the prickly pears, the better. And that’s to say nothing of the honey. He has to do some very fast talking to convince the bees that he’d repaired their hive, see, there was no need to sting, and he’d be ever so careful in the future, if they’d just let him have a little more…

Eventually, though, he finds the most well-guarded fruit in the Garden.

It isn’t immediately obvious; the fruit is an inviting dark red, with skin that looks thin and easy to bite through. But as Aziraphale reaches up through the branches, a warning hiss makes him jerk his hand away in surprise.

In the dappled shadow of the leaves, a pair of glittering golden eyes reflect the moonlight. Slowly, he makes out the shape of a great long body wound through the branches of the tree, sleek black scales shifting to a deep crimson at its underbelly.

“Oh, hello, dear,” Aziraphale says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. I’m Aziraphale.”

The snake stares at him, and he thinks it would probably blink in bemusement if that were something a snake could do.

“I’m Crawly,” it says finally.

“You certainly are,” Aziraphale replies dryly, and then realizes—that was its name. Creatures do not have names, which means that he isn’t speaking to a snake. He’s speaking to an angel. And he’s just told an insipid joke about his (admittedly rather ridiculous) name.

Before he can panic at all, there’s an odd hissing sound, and he realizes that the angel is laughing.

“I really didn’t mean to disturb you,” Aziraphale says uncomfortably. “Just… the fruit looks rather lovely.”

“It’sssss forbidden,” Crawly hisses, scales whispering over the branches as he readjusts his perch in the tree, freeing up the front of his body to strike.

Aziraphale blinks. “This one? Are you quite sure?” When the angel only stares, unblinking, he adds doubtfully, “only there are others that seem to be rather more… threatening, you know.”

“I moved all the poisonous ones, honeyface,” Crawly says, defensive. Aziraphale resists the urge to self-consciously scrub at his suddenly very hot face, trying to find a retort, and then pauses suddenly.

“There are poisonous ones?” he asks, a sort of retroactive worry curdling his full stomach. Beelzebub will not be impressed if he’s ruined this body already. “Where did you move them to?”

“A cave. It’s got a stream running through and a great hole in the top for light, but you couldn’t have just wandered in there in that shape,” Crawly assures.

“I should like to see that,” Aziraphale replies, relieved now and imagining the picture it must make, light shining down in a column on the lush greenery, the whisper of water trickling along just out of sight.

Crawly eyes him suspiciously. “I’m sure you would, demon,” he accuses. “I put those out of reach for a reason, I’m not showing you where they are so you can go make the humans sick.”

“Are you implying I’m going to poison them?” Aziraphale asks, affronted. Then he tilts his head in thought. “Actually…”

The angel winces.

“They—they know better than to eat those anyway,” he insists, and angels don’t lie but there’s something a little too keen in the warning. “She pointed out all the things that were dangerous.”

“Then why did you have to put them out of reach?” Aziraphale asks mildly, and Crawly hisses in frustration. Which means that poison is still a possibility, assuming he can figure out how much is needed to just make the silly things sick without getting himself in too much trouble. Fortunately, he realizes, there might be a much more interesting opportunity right in front of him. “What’s more, if you moved all the others, why did you leave this one? Did She forget to point it out? Or,” he adds inncocently, “is it too big?”

“I’m an angel,” the angel says, testily. “I can move any tree I like, size isn’t an issue. And She did tell them if they ate it they would surely die and all that. But She placed it specially here—“

“Did she now?”

“Um, yeah…”

“The Lord took special care to place one single poisonous tree in this specific spot? In Her rather enormous Garden?” Looking around, there is a grassy sort of clearing around the tree that Aziraphale might have noticed if he hadn’t been so consumed with excitement over the fruit. What’s more, it seems possible based on where he’d started, and the direction he’d been walking and the amount the moon had moved, that this was the exact center of the Garden. Which means it must be a rather important tree.

“Well, it’s technically not—“

Crawly cuts himself off, but it’s too late—Aziraphale’s mind is in motion, picking the words apart. What was not what? The Garden is certainly enormous, and certainly Hers; the angel had said himself that She placed the tree specifically, and that She told the humans the fruit was—

No. No, that wasn’t quite what Crawly said, was it?

“It’s not technically poisonous, is it? You even said,” Aziraphale realizes, “you moved all the poisonous ones. This fruit isn’t poison at all, it’s just forbidden.”

“They’ll die if they eat it,” the angel insists stubbornly. “She said so.”

“Maybe,” Aziraphale says, because trying to convince a loyal angel that the Lord lied is a fool’s errand. “But if it’s not the fruit that will kill them, what will? Her?”

“Ssssshe wouldn’t do that,” Crawly replies, hissing with outrage. “It’s wrong. They’re her favorite creation, and it’s just a fruit, that wouldn’t be—“

“Right? Fair?” Aziraphale scoffs, fists clenching, and Crawly rears back at his sudden vehemence. “It isn’t right to make us create all this and then ignore us to focus on them, and then cast out anyone who wants to know why. It isn’t fair to pick favorites.”

(Envy is a sin, a horrible ugly little ball of resentment that sits in the stomach like rotten fruit, weighs the soul down like a stone.)

There’s a long, bitter silence. They stare at each other, neither willing to budge, until finally Aziraphale sighs and relaxes his posture, shaking his head.

(Wrath is a sin when anger festers and vents itself at undeserving targets, but it’s one he frankly finds rather distasteful.)

“It’s hardly fair, either, to put such a delicious-looking fruit they can’t eat right in the center of a Garden full of ones they can. It seems… confusing.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for,” Crawly says.

“She put an angel here to remind the humans not to eat a fruit?” Aziraphale had known she was fixated on them, but that seemed excessive.

“Well, all She said was that I’m a guardian, gave me venom and a flaming sword and all,” Crawly replies, mouth wide to show his teeth, and Aziraphale resists the urge to flinch back at flaming sword. “But I mean, it seemed implied. Who else would I be guarding, the trees?”

Probably just this specific tree, Aziraphale doesn’t say, because he’s too busy gaping at this ridiculous, wonderful angel. ‘It seemed implied’—maybe it had, but only from a very specific vantage point. A naïve one, of course, one of blind, unquestioned faith, yes; but it was faith in the idea that She reflected this angel’s simple, perfectly instinctive love, the conviction that nothing was more valuable than life.

Aziraphale doesn’t have that kind of faith anymore, has felt firsthand the imperfections in Her love. But perhaps…

No. Crawly is an angel, he reminds himself, a loyal soldier of the Lord who might be friendly and delightfully witty but who has been armed with a flaming sword that he’ll probably try to drive through Aziraphale’s heart when their conversation ends. His love is no more perfect than Hers.

“Hey, you okay?”

Aziraphale started, blinking up at the branches. It made sense how he’d managed to miss Crawly; weaved between the branches as he was, his black scales blended with the night shadows, while the glimpses of red scales that were visible were a perfect match for the fruit.

He’s not up to date on serpentine body language, but Crawly actually seems concerned.

“Yes, yes, quite alright,” Aziraphale replied, trying to regain the thread of the conversation.

“Do you still want one?”

And now Aziraphale’s completely lost. “What?”

Crawly laughs, the same soft, hissing delight. “The apples, do you still want to try one?”

“I—well,” Aziraphale stutters, thrown. Is this some sort of test? Will he be allowed to go without a fight if he doesn’t seem interested? “I don’t want to ‘surely die’, if that’s what you’re asking—“

“Oh, that’s just for the humans.” At Aziraphale’s surprised look, Crawly explains, “I asked, because the animals kept trying to eat them.”

“I see… but this still feels like a trap,” Aziraphale says worriedly. All the same, he can’t stop himself from glancing at the fruit again, ripe and inviting and new.

Crawly laughs again, sounding almost fond, but this time he starts to move, coils flowing over the branches until he hangs in a single loop, and for a moment Aziraphale thinks the angel’s laughed himself right out of the tree. Then something changes, the loop over the branch melting into strong fingers with black-tipped nails, the head shifting and the red scales flowing back over it into long russet curls, lids forming gently over golden eyes and then blinking open to reveal them glittering in mirth. The black scales have retreated but not disappeared, tracing a path down Crawly’s neck and disappearing over his slim dark shoulder, reappearing at the bony hips and branching over lean thighs to curl around his dark, pointy knees before spilling out to cover his slender calves and ankles.

Crawly drops to the ground on scaled feet with a final chuckle, plucking an apple from the tree as he lets go of the branch.

“Look,” he says, and with glinting white teeth and thin, grinning lips he bites into the apple, ripping away a full mouthful, large enough that when he swallows without chewing Aziraphale can follow the lump down that long, slim throat before it disappears.

Aziraphale jerks his eyes away from sharp collarbones and what lies below them and gulps convulsively.

(Lust is a sin, he tells himself, and you’re a demon, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, but maybe it’s a sin he doesn’t understand all that well, because somehow Aziraphale is sure that Him Below would disapprove of the way he wants to stare at this angel just as much as She would.)

“It’s perfectly safe,” the angel tells him, and Aziraphale wants to snort derisively, but then Crawly smiles soft and a little teasing. “Come on, I know how much you want to—it’s delicious, really, and I promise I don’t sting.”

“How do you know—“

“It’s all over your face, honey,” Crawly drawls, eyes shining with amusement, and it takes a moment for Aziraphale to process the jibe, to blush brick red again and scrub viciously at his sticky chin with the heel of his hand. So much for not looking like a grubby demon, he thinks.

“Why,” he asks, and Crawly softens.

“It really is delicious,” he repeats, “and it’s clearly meant to be enjoyed. And somehow, I don’t think anyone will enjoy it more than you.”

And he holds out the apple.

Of course no one is going to enjoy it more—neither demons or angels, or even the Lord, make a habit of eating, and the thing is forbidden to the humans. There’s no one else who’d enjoy it at all, really. But somehow, it’s obvious that that’s not what Crawly means. Aziraphale can’t suppress the feeling that there’s something being offered here beyond a sort-of forbidden apple, something intangible but very, very important.

He reaches out and takes it.

(Greed is a sin: wanting in excess, more than you need, more than you deserve, all for yourself, and it must be excessive the way he wants everything, it must be too much and selfish even if he has the fleeting, mad impression that Crawly is offering.)

The apple is delicious, divinely sweet without being cloying. He savors the first bite, the way his sharp front teeth pierce the delicate skin easily and the satisfying crunch between his molars as he chews, the weight of the fruit on his tongue and the way the juice lets it slide smooth down his throat.

He opens his eyes to find the angel staring at him with eyes wide and shocked and almost plaintive, sort of leaning forward and altogether consumed with something Aziraphale can’t identify.

“Do you want another bite?” he offers.

“No,” Crawly blurts, “no, you can finish it. Like I said, never see anyone enjoy it like you.”

“Alright then,” Aziraphale replies, and does. Crawly leans back against the tree and watches, smiling, and maybe that should make Aziraphale feel self-conscious but something about that golden stare just leaves him feeling warm.

When he’s done, he licks the juice off his fingers, closing his eyes and humming in satisfaction, then startles as a wave of pure lust hits his demonic senses.

He opens his eyes and grins knowingly, and Crawly sucks in a breath, biting his lip with teeth that are a touch too sharp. Aziraphale fancies that there are more scales spreading across that dark skin than before, and for a moment he thinks Crawly will dart back up into the tree to coil up and hide in the branches again. He suppresses a laugh.

“That was wonderful, thank you,” he says, and Crawly shifts a bit before leaning back, deliberately careless.

“Well, I’m glad you found it… diverting,” he says.

Aziraphale chuckles, surprised and a little delighted. “Were you distracting me?”

“Well, it’s been twenty minutes since you walked up, and who knows how much trouble a demon could cause in twenty minutes,” Crawly replies. “Think I did a good job.”

“In that case,” Aziraphale says, “I suppose I should be getting on. I can’t have a sweet little angel like yourself thwarting all my demonic wiles.”

For a moment, it looks like Crawly is going to take issue with that description, but then he tilts his head, challenging.

“You could do that, and see how sweet I really am,” he drawls, “or I could show you some other sweet things in this Garden. Have you tried mangoes?”

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Aziraphale replies, intrigued, and Crawly grins, standing.

“There’s a tree over this way,” he says, starting out of the clearing.

Aziraphale goes to follow, frowning back at the apple tree. “Shouldn’t you be on guard?”

“I am. I’m guarding them from you,” Crawly insists, turning back. His tongue flickers out from between his teeth, and he shrugs. “They’re asleep miles away, and besides, I’m sure you could get them in far more trouble than any apple tree.”

(Later, of course, he’s proven quite thoroughly wrong, and Aziraphale laughs himself silly. Crawly glances up at the twitching white wing still sheltering him from the pouring rain, and has to remind himself to glower rather than laughing along.)

***

I'm not sure if I'm going to write more for this, but I sure have a lot of thoughts about it, so if you have an opinion, a question, or just want to know a random fact about this au, or just want to yell about good omens, my ask box and chat are open for business :). Also, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #writing #aziraphale/crowley #GO fanfic #my writing

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rawliverandcigarettes · 5 years

Photo

So gang apparel for the theme “work week” miiight have been a stretch, but here’s a quick sketch of Shorkhal Beshkoba, one of my Halfway Home batarian OCs and my first time drawing him. Not super happy with the face (we don’t get the bony angular vibe I’m after, the one of contained violence), but the clothes were a good exercise.

More on Shorkhal under the cut!

Shorkhal is one mess of a batarian. Yet another money refugee of the Hegemony, sent away by the lies of his father pretending to have the financial means for the cast they were paying for and borrowing to maintain the illusion, he left illegally to join a slaver gang and took his younger sister Prrachiat along to prevent his desperate father to sell her as caution. Once out and around Omega he indulged in an ultra-violent lifestyle and everything terrible you could expect from a slaver, but was never taken seriously by his peers poking more and more at his feelings of inadequacy and his inferiority complex, as being dumped off the cast he thought he belonged to was not something he lived well. Once his colleagues started to circle around his sister a bit too threateningly to humiliate him further and further, he decided to betray them, swallowing his pride and seeking help from the rival gang of Khocress Kam’Gestar to have his sister protected. His old gang was wiped out and he slowly became a trusted member of the new one, always near Khocress when violence was needed and an expert to understand how a slaver’s brain and tactics worked. However, Shorkhal can never totally get over his complicated feelings of admiration and jealousy towards Khocress, his natural calm, authority and tranquil menace while he always twitches and flails and needs to use cruelty as mean to earn respect, and the fact his sister is head over heels in love with Khocress, who does not replicate but also doesn’t abuse the situation –which he cannot understand, being quite horrible to females of all species excluding his sister and having been raised that way– makes him feel specifically unsafe. He never truly integrate in the gang and their dream of a new and proud identity for batarian culture, and clings to the hierarchies he understand and other that joined the refugee gang for convenience rather than belief.

He’s known to use a penknife, as he prefers the release of violence that way rather than with the impersonal distance of a gun. He also cuts himself to cope with anxiety, anger and self-esteem issues and then pretends he got them in knives fight. Basically he’s everything awful batarian masculinity standards can lead to as their culture falls apart, harming both the world around him and also himself. His only redeeming quality is his love for his sister, even though even that love is a bit messed up –his overprotection is more about protecting his status than her, really, and he’s a bit at loss with the way she’s growing up in Omega: violent, but also drunk on a freedom she would have never gotten on Khar’shan and shaped by a very overtly sexual environment she wants to own for herself as well. Also by how annoyed she’s getting that her brother is getting in the way of her personal exploration, slipping away from his control and starting to be respected for who she is and her impressive talent at taming and raising varrens for the gang’s protection --and varrens are bigger and more dangerous than a penknife...

#Mass Effect #batarians #batarian #citadelfashionweek #batarian oc #halfway home #Shorkhal #scary unpredicable and twitchy is the vibe #he's quite the worst #but also tragic #his role in HH is noot a fun one #batarians do not have a fun time in this fic :(

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chouetteffraie · 5 years

Note

Dazatsu and 3 for the kiss prompts pleaseeee (maybe w/ drunk Atsushi? lol)

3. Drunk/Sloppy kiss

no problem, dear nonnie! thank you for the ask!

sorry if it’s a bit choppy, I ended up having to write this in a few different sittings so I hope it’s still okay!!

Dazai staggered slightly to the side as Atsushi’s disoriented body pushed him, tightening his grip on the boy’s waist. Maybe he shouldn’t have enabled his reckless drinking earlier in the evening. Had he known he would’ve been put in charge of the boy, he would’ve bailed out of there sooner and left Kunikida to take care of Atsushi.

At least, that’s what he told himself time after time on this familiar walk back to the dorms with Atsushi at his side. Most of the time, though, Atsushi wasn’t inebriated and Dazai didn’t have to suffer through the walk supporting his weight, feeling his warmth seep into his side, hearing his occasional drunk giggle when he saw something amusing…

He both couldn’t wait for and dreaded the drop off at the dorms. With Atsushi at his side, he always craved an extra touch, a sweet smile, more contact. However, once he watched Atsushi close his door and disappear for the night, Dazai knew he’d be itching to have that warmth back at his side.

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi called as they neared the dorm. “I hope I’m not…too much of a bother to take home.” Atsushi was talking much too loudly, but it was endearing to see he was worried about Dazai when he was drunk.

“You handle your alcohol pretty well,” Dazai answered. “You’re just a little loopy, so I decided to escort you home. Better safe than sorry, right?”

Atsushi sighed a contented sigh. “Dazai-san takes such good care of me.”

That was it. It didn’t matter how much Dazai would miss having Atsushi next to him, he needed to get rid of the enticing boy at his side before he lost control and strained their relationship even more than he already has. He watched anxiously as Atsushi fumbled with his keys, staring at the doorknob with such intense concentration Dazai almost laughed at him. After a few more moments, he reached out for the keys to do it himself.

“Here, let me-” he started, faltering when his fingers brushed across Atsushi’s hand. None the wiser, Atsushi smiled at Dazai and thanked him, chuckling when Dazai blushed and ducked his head. Finally, the door opened and Dazai held the keys out to Atsushi, asking, “Will you be able to do the rest on your own? You look��unsteady on your feet.”

“Absolutely,” Atsushi answered with the determination that sparked in his eyes right before he faced off with Akutagawa. He stepped forward, ignoring the keys in Dazai’s hand, and brushed roughly against his doorframe. “Ouch.”

Theoretically, he could leave Atsushi to figure this out on his own. He’d probably just crash to the bed and fall asleep in his clothes, waking up with a mild hangover if any and things would be back to normal. But for a moment, as Atsushi gripped the doorframe he just ran into, staring into the darkness of his dorm with uncertainty, Dazai knew he’d feel horrible for leaving him to deal with this new vulnerability on his own. After all, Atsushi never left him when he crossed a line he never should’ve crossed. What kind of mentor- what kind of friend- would he be if he abandoned him now?

Sighing, Dazai grabbed Atsushi’s arm and placed it back over his shoulders, leading him into the small apartment. Atsushi’s dorm was much cleaner and easier to navigate than his own, Dazai noted, tossing Atsushi’s keys on the first table he saw. Carefully, watching Atsushi’s stumbling feet and ignoring the muttered “ah, sorry”s he got when Atsushi tripped, Dazai guided him to his bedroom and stopped at the door.

“You get dressed for bed. I’ll be right back,” Dazai instructed. Atsushi smiled and nodded, closing the bedroom door between them. For a moment Dazai stood there, staring at the wood in front of him as if he was in a trance until he heard soft rustling and realized he was listening to Atsushi undress. Shaking his head, he took his time walking back to the kitchen and sorting through the glasses.

When he returned, he knocked on the door, listening to a few sounds of struggle before Atsusi called, “Come in!” Sliding open the door, Dazai chuckled wryly at his cruel fate. Atsushi sat on the edge of his bed, fumbling with the buttons of his bedshirt. His wrinkled forehead and pouting lips only made him look cuter as he tried to figure out the clothes, and when he gave up and look at Dazai for help, Dazai felt his fingers twitch, itching to either fix Atsusi’s ruffled hair or mess it up some more.

Instead, Dazai set the glass of water on the table and motioned for Atsushi to straighten out, kneeling in front of him to fix his shirt. However, dressing him properly meant undressing him first, a task Dazai wasn’t sure he can handle. As he meticulously fixed the misplaced buttons, he zeroed in on the garment to prevent his face from flushing and to keep Atsushi from getting uncomfortable. Once he was done, he stole a glance at Atsushi, whose gaze was fixated on him.

“You know,” Atsushi started. “It was nice talking to you today. I feel like lately, you’ve been avoiding me.”

Dazai didn’t answer and drew his hands back, which had been hovering in the space between them uselessly. Before he could pull them back completely, Atsushi reached and grabbed both of them, his hands warm and soft. “Have you been avoiding me?” He asked, voice vulnerable and shaky. Dazai was worried if he told the truth, he’d burst into tears.

So he lied. “Of course not, Atsushi-kun,” He responded.

“I thought maybe you were just stressed or busy, but-”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Dazai interrupted sternly. God, none of this was because of him. Yet of course, he figured he was the problem, and now he was blaming himself for Dazai’s own selfishness. “If I was avoiding you, would I have brought you home?”

Atsushi answered with a question, one that made Dazai freeze for a moment. “It’s because of the kiss, isn’t it?”

The kiss, Dazai thought, of course. The time I stole what should’ve been one of your most precious memories. The time I stumbled through my own life and made you stumble with me. Of course it’s because of that, Atsushi. I don’t want to take control of your life to ease my own stupid fears.

Atsushi took Dazai’s silence for affirmation. “Did you…not like it?” He asked, voice small and scared, as if he were afraid the answer might be no.

Dazai sighed and stood, slipping his hands away from Atsushi’s and tucking them in his pockets. He should answer honestly, tell Atsushi the truth. And yet…despite knowing of Atsushi’s growing crush for months, despite having almost confirmation that Atsushi enjoyed their last rendezvous, it was so much easier to hide in his shell and tuck his feelings away where there was no risk of them shattering. Instead, he asked, “Did you?”

Atsushi wasn’t like him. He was openly emotional, and the alcohol coursing through his veins made him particularly bold. “Yes.”

“You don’t need to flatter me, Atsushi-kun. I should have never taken your first kiss away from you.”

Atsushi stared at Dazai, an interesting mixture of anger and confusion swimming in his eyes as he tried to figure out what to say. Dazai tried looking back, until the scrutiny made his skin crawl and he turned his head away.

“Dazai-san, you never took anything. I wanted you to be my first kiss,” Atsushi admitted, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. Whether it was from embarrassment or alcohol, Dazai didn’t know, but the tint in his own cheeks only had one explanation.

Dazai had a million things he wanted to say- you shouldn’t be so generous with me, I’m a selfish man and I’ll take everything out of you, or there’s so much more you can do and see, so many other people you can meet, or, an especially loud thought, don’t let me taint you, yet every protest he had died on his tongue.

Two hands grabbed Dazai’s suit jacket as Atsushi stood up, a new ferocity gleaming in his eyes. “I gave you that kiss, Dazai-san, and I’d like to give you another one,” He proclaimed. There was a flash of pride spreading across his features, as if he thought he was some smooth Romeo, and he gave Dazai a smile that was hard to reject.

So he didn’t.

He cupped Atsushi’s cheek in one hand, relishing in the warmth and the fire it sent spreading across his palm, and slowly leaned in. When there was barely no space between them, Dazai paused, asking silently if this was alright. He didn’t want to mess up again, though he was sure if he asked out loud, they might have brushed lips anyway. Atsushi, who had already allowed his eyes to flutter shut, opened them quickly and pouted before yanking Dazai closer by the jacket.

This was only Atsushi’s second kiss, and he was significantly less coordinated than he would be any other time. Their lips fit together almost uncomfortably, not quite sealing the way they ought to, and yet Dazai found no issue with it. Atsushi was moving his lips enthusiastically against Dazai’s, and he found it difficult not to match his fervor. After he had caused such tension for the boy over the past week dealing with his own doubts, it was only fair, right?

Atsushi was the first to pull away, oblivious to any mistakes he may have made and instead focusing on nuzzling into Dazai’s hand. He placed a few soft kisses on the palm, either forgetting about the bandages or simply not caring about them. The gesture made Dazai’s heart clench, and he found himself wanting to lean in again.

“Would it be selfish to ask for one more?” He asked, stroking Atsushi’s cheek with his thumb idly.

“If it is, you can be as selfish as you’d like with me.”

Atsushi really did spoil him, didn’t he?

#dazatsu #dazushi #my stuff #my stuff dazatsu #kiss prompts #300 followers #dear nonnie #asks #my stuff bsd

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just-adashi-thots · 5 years

Text

[college au pt. 3]:

adam and shiro bicker in a playful manner very often, but they don't really get into actual arguments

if so, it'll be minor and over something relatively trivial like whose turn it is to buy the toilet paper

very rarely, though, one of these seemingly tiny squabbles will snowball into something really ugly where there's shouting and finger pointing involved

shiro tries to be patient and tends to let things slide, but that leads to him bottling up his frustration and then lashing out in full force when his fuse finally runs out

adam can be awfully passive aggressive, and it ratchets up in severity the more annoyed he is with whatever shiro's doing

these negative emotions will fester until the tension in the air is damn near palpable, and both of them are struggling with frayed nerves and ready to snap

the first time they had one of these fights, it had been a few months since shiro had moved in, and it was by far the worst one

it'd started with a snide little remark from adam about shiro waking him up yet again at ass o'clock in the morning with his loud fumbling in the kitchen, and shiro had decided he'd had enough of adam's thinly veiled insults and that grating tone of voice he uses when he's being more of a sarcastic asshole than usual

so shiro fired back and angrily pointed out that not only did adam constantly wake him up at stupid hours in the night when he blowdries his hair after a late shower, but he also would leave his books and other random shit all over every piece of furniture as if he owned the living room

and from there, it was all downhill with both of them letting out all of their pent up frustration and saying things they were definitely going to regret later

it ended with shiro storming out of the apartment and adam locking himself in his room

they even avoided one another for a few days after the incident, refusing to make eye contact and not saying a word whenever they crossed paths in the hallway or the kitchen

(adam still cooked for two, silently leaving leftovers on the stove or in the fridge after he had his fill)

(shiro chose not to have any of that food, though, opting instead to eat out so he could be away from the flat for longer)

(he did, however, put the untouched food into a tupperware and safely into the fridge if it was lying out before washing the dishes)

even when their anger eventually dissipated, they remained silent around one another because they were both so ashamed of the horrible things they had said (but were also too stubborn to be the first one to apologize)

shiro ended up cracking first, gazing at their white board in the kitchen and missing both their little daily games and the sound of their laughter filling the flat

he erased the hangman puzzle that was there and replaced it with one that had the following spaces: _'_ _ _ _ _ _

adam found the puzzle later that day and couldn't help but smile, also yearning to go back to their silly banter and doing stupid shit together like playing air guitar solos while listening to music in the kitchen before dinner

shiro later received a message from adam that was just a picture of the board with the spaces filled in, but adam had added an extra word to the end of the puzzle: i'm sorry too

shiro left his room to meet adam in the kitchen, and they finally talked it out

they apologized to one another and promised to be more honest and open about what bothered them so that they would be able to avoid big fights like this in the future

they left the kitchen smiling and bumping shoulders, and they ended up getting drunk on the cooking wine (adam allowed it just this one time) and watching shitty hallmark movies until they passed out on the couch

they still get into fights, of course, but none are ever as severe as that first one, and they've worked on communicating better and finding good ways to destress

they'll go on walks to the nearby park when they've been cooped up inside studying or working at the lab and are really in need of a breather

they buy a soccer ball, too, and will sometimes bring it with them to the park, showing off their favorite ball tricks and playing a bit of keep away

they find adult coloring books and those 64 packs of crayons at the dollar store, so they'll color them at the dining table in their spare time

(it's actually pretty therapeutic, and sometimes they'll break the silence with either light music or a conversation)

most importantly, they make sure to work on voicing their issues in a timely (shiro) and constructive (adam) manner

they will set aside time to just sit down and discuss the problem at hand before working towards a solution

yeah, these conversations can be awkward and may require putting their prides aside, but they can truly help the two of them to prevent major conflicts and just become overall better flatmates

this also helps remove unnecessary strains on their friendship as a result of those fights and negative emotions

living with others can be really stressful, even for friends

but adam and shiro are adults, and they make it work

(well, sometimes adults)

(they have, on at least two occasions, fought over which kind of window stickers they should buy from the dollar store to decorate the huge living room window with)

#adam (voltron)#takashi shirogane #adashi #shadam #voltron #vld #college au #though it's basically a roommates au at this point....#i meant for this to be a slow burn but now i'm even mad at myself #i just want to skip everything else and talk about them being dopey boyfriends #y'all have been ever so sweet in your tags and comments ty very much

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youngjusticeslut · 5 years

Text

and with you I’m whole again

Fandom: Young Justice Links: FF.net // AO3 Characters: Roy Will Harper, Kaldur’ahm Ships: N/A Summary: Will meets Kaldur for the first time since returning from being undercover.For Kaldur’Bomb appreciation month. Rating: T Word Count: 1769 Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters.

There were a few things that Will could still pride himself in.

Fatherhood was one of them. From the moment he’d first held her in his shaky arms, he was smitten. The baby wasn’t even a year old and she had him wrapped around every one of her tiny fingers. Will had made many mistakes in his life, but none of them seemed to matter when he was with Lian. So long as she continued to smile up at him, he would be just fine.

Will could still shoot an arrow with pinpoint accuracy. That was something that hadn’t changed, and probably never would. Even when he was in the thick of his depression, he could still count on his marksmanship to take care of a few worthless thugs. On nights Lian fell asleep early, Jade would put her in a carrier and let her sleep as they sparred in a warehouse. His hand-to-hand still needed work, but he couldn’t deny the rush of satisfaction when an arrow just grazed his wife’s head. Even she had looked amused.

There were a couple other things, too. Honesty. A dry sense of humor. The ability to cook. Those came and went, but the one that did always stay was his penchant for timeliness. Until today, that was.

He glanced down at his phone and cursed, checking the time. Lian had started crying just minutes before he was due to leave the apartment. Jade had promised to calm her, but his daughter seemed adamant on wanting him. By the time she’d settled, Will was already ten minutes late to his meeting with Kaldur. While Jade distracted Lian with some well-timed cookies, he snuck out the door and all but ran to the address Kaldur had texted him.

When he was just minutes away, Will slowed. He’d make a terrible impression if he showed up panting within an inch of his life. While Kaldur had spent the past few years training and becoming stronger, Will had done the opposite. As soon as he’d thought it, he wished he hadn’t. Will couldn’t even imagine what Kaldur had been through.

When news of Kaldur’s true plan spread, Will had expected a call. A message. Anything, really. But the Atlantean maintained radio silence from his former friend, and Will didn’t press. He had an inkling of what Kaldur was going through, so he chose to let things happen as they were. They met for the first time at Wally’s funeral. Briefly, but it was enough for Kaldur to extend an invitation. A few days later, and the invitation was cemented in text with a time and an address of a cafe in Star City.

Will smoothed his hair back before he opened the door to the cafe. He didn’t even need to look, he knew Kaldur would be there waiting for him. Brushing past the hostess, Will found him in the back, already holding a mug in his hands.

“Chamomile or Jasmine?” Will asked as he slid into the booth.

Kaldur didn’t startle, instead he raised a brow. “Common decency is to apologize when one is so late.”

“I know,” Will sighed. “I’m sorry. I got a little tied up,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I understand.” Kaldur drank from his mug before meeting his friend’s eyes. “Neither, by the way. It is coffee.”

“Coffee?” Will crossed his arms. “I thought you hated the stuff.”

Kaldur shrugged, tugging at the turtleneck he wore to hide his gills. “It was all we had on the submarine.”

If it were any person other than Will, they might have made a face. They might have tried to console Kaldur, or even ask if he wanted to talk about it. But Will knew better. He knew what it was like to make mistakes, to make impossible decisions that would forever haunt him. So instead of doing any of that, he just nodded and grabbed a menu. “I could use a coffee.”

Kaldur didn’t speak again until Will had his coffee in front of him and they’d both ordered some lunch. Tuna melt for Will, turkey on rye for Kaldur. Despite the time that had passed, Will was glad that some things had stayed the same.

“I am sorry.”

Will added sugar to his coffee, debating on whether or not to add creamer. “For?”

“For everything. The deceit. The betrayal. For not helping you find Speedy. Of all people, I should have been by your side. I promised that I would help you, instead I just… I was so focused on myself, and the mission that I… I am sorry, Roy,” Kaldur choked, his voice strained.

The former arched exhaled, stirring his coffee until the sugar dissolved. He’d known the apology was going to come up at some point, and it bothered him that he still hadn’t thought up an appropriate response. A long time ago, Will had blamed him for giving up. Fueled on no sleep and copious amounts of heroin, he’d said some horrible things to him, things he would never be able to take back. And yet here Kaldur was, apologizing to him.

“Kal,” he said, his voice as soft as if he were talking to his daughter. “If there’s anyone you don’t need to apologize to, it’s me.”

“I was not there for you.”

“I didn’t let anyone be there for me. It wasn’t your fault,” Will swore. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Not to me, anyways. Jade… might require a bit more apology,” he admitted, trying to smile. His wife still hadn’t completely forgiven the Atlantean for faking her sister’s death.

Kaldur squeezed his mug. “Not just Jade. I do not think I could ever stop apologizing for what I did in my absence.”

“You and me both, Pal. And by the way, it’s not Roy anymore,” Will admitted. “I am afraid I do not follow.”

“I changed my name. Didn’t feel right anymore, now that Roy is walking around. At least, I assume he’s walking around. The kid has more anger issues than a volcano in Hawaii,” Will muttered into his coffee.

Kaldur allowed himself to smile. “Sounds familiar.”

Will rolled his eyes but smiled. With Kaldur smiling, how could he not? “Yeah, I’ll give you that. Just this once, though, so don’t get used to it, Kal.”

The waiter arrived with their sandwiches. Will started eating before Kaldur, having realized just how hungry he’d gotten. He’d been so busy feeding Lian this morning that he’d forgotten to eat anything himself. Will was so lost in his sandwich that he barely heard Kaldur’s next question. “Sorry?” he mumbled, trying to swallow a mouthful of tuna salad.

“You did not tell me what you go by, now. How am I to address you?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s probably important.” He swallowed whatever remained in his mouth and then grinned. “Will.”

“Will?”

“Yeah, William is Roy’s middle name. I don’t know, I liked it, and I figured it was a way to keep him a part of who I want to be,” he explained, cheeks tinging pink. “Jade thought it was a good idea.”

“No, I agree,” Kaldur said, plucking a french fry from his plate and swirling it in ketchup. “Will. It suits you.” He popped the fry in his mouth and hummed in satisfaction.

“When’s the last time you’ve had fries?” Will asked, unable to keep the amusement off his face as he watched his friend.

“Far too long. Far, far too long,” Kaldur groaned, years melting off his face from the simple action. Will chuckled but let him eat, both of them enjoying each other’s silent company in the way that always seemed so natural to them. Will had gotten along with Dick and Wally because he could play the older and wiser one, the one they could look up to. But he didn’t have to play anything with Kaldur; with him, he could just be.

“So,” Kaldur began again, dabbing his mouth with a napkin once he’d had his fill. “Is it true?”

Will knew exactly what Kaldur was referring to, and yet he played oblivious anyway. He’d make him work for it a little bit. “Is what true?”

“That you have a daughter.” Will wanted to continue the act, and yet the moment he thought of the baby he left at home, a smile betrayed him. Instead of answering, he dug out his phone from his pocket and pulled up a picture. He’d taken it yesterday, while Lian was playing with her blocks. He handed the phone to Kaldur, resting his chin in his palm. “Lian.”

Kaldur’s face softened. “She looks just like you.”

“You think so? Everyone says she looks like Jade.”

“I can see both of your resemblances in her,” Kaldur mused before handing the phone back. “I cannot believe it. You are a father.”

“I am,” Will grinned. “She changed my life, Kal.”

“So it seems someone finally got through to you,” Kaldur said. “I am happy for you, Will. Lian is a lucky girl.”

“Well, time will tell on that matter,” Will admitted, chuckling nervously. “I’m still not the perfect dad. Pretty sure I’ve given her diaper rash more times than I can count. Jade swore she’d strangle me if I did it again.”

“Nobody is perfect.”

“Yeah. I love her, more than anything. Figured that has to count for something.” Will pushed his plate away and crossed his arms. “You can meet her, if you want.”

“Oh, I do not think-”

Will waved him off. “She’ll love you, Kal. It’s about time she met her Godfather.”

“Godfather?”

“Yeah, who else would I have picked?” Will asked, raising a brow. “Jade wasn’t happy with it, but she picked the Godmother, so.”

“Artemis, I presume.”

“Naturally.”

“Well…” Kaldur hummed. “Artemis and I worked well together before.”

“That’s the spirit,” Will said. His phone vibrated on the table and he glanced at it. “Shit, that’s the time? I really am running behind today. Lian and I have parents’ group today.” “Parents’ group?”

“Yeah, Iris started it,” Will explained. “Just somewhere all the parents with kids can gather to hang out for a little while. Lian loves seeing the other kids, we never miss it.” His face dimmed, realizing how rude he was probably being. “We could miss it this one time, though.”

“Absolutely not. I will now allow it,” Kaldur scoffed. “We shall see each other again soon enough.”

“You promise?” Will asked, already pulling out some cash from his wallet. “You can’t go disappearing on me again, Kaldur.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “I am here to stay.”

#young justice #roy harper #kaldur #kaldur'bomb #young justice fanfiction

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vodkctonics · 5 years

Text

[ im changkyun, cismale, he/him, 24 ] DESPERADO by RIHANNA? whenever i hear that song, it reminds me of JAEHYUK "JAE" KHANG. maybe because they’re DARING but also AGGRESSIVE. they’ve been living at mulberry apartments since OCTOBER of 2013 in APARTMENT 402 and have 2 ROOMMATES. ( LATE NITE by FOALS & SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW by GOYTE ft. KIMBRA )

it me, ya girl, cait, back at it again with another trash baby bc why not!! i tried to go a lil more indepth with his intro than i have my previous ones ( i’m sorry ya’ll had to deal with those garbage intros ok i really am ) along with giving ya’ll his basic stats and some basic connection ideas for him. ( also if you’re interested HERE is his pinterest board !! ) if ya’ll wanna plot with this trash bb, like this or hmu on discord ( 𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘤 — 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕠.#7518 ) or tumblr im if you don’t have discord !! anyways, onto the good shit !!

general information.

full name: jaehyuk khang. nickname(s): jae, hyuk, hyukkie, khang. date of birth: october 26st, 1994. age: twenty-four. nationality: korean. spoken languages: english, korean, chinese, japanese, french, spanish, german & russian. gender: cismale. pronouns: he / him / his. sexuality: bisexual. faceclaim: im changkyun ( i.m ) of monsta x.

background.

hometown: ulsan, south korea. current residence: baltimore, maryland. mulberry apartments, apt 402. financial status: middle to upper class. occupation: drug dealer / gang leader. education level: high school diploma. family connections: tba.

extra information.

myers briggs: entp-a. ( the debater. ) enneagram: eight. ( the challenger. ) temperament: choleric. moral aligment: neutral evil. hogwarts house: slytherin. sin: wrath. virtue: pride. zodiac: scorpio. element: fire.

biography.

born and raised in korea

parents were pretty strict and didn’t really allow him to do well.. anything.

however, they did buy him whatever he wanted and spoiled him in that way

and due to both of those things combined, he started to rebel at a really young age. ( i’m talking like 10 )

so he’d sneak out, graffiti people’s houses and break things and the likes.

pretty much got kicked out of his home for his actions at the age of 13.

slept on friends couches or in their basements and was pretty much on the street after that.

met some people a year later who saw potential in jae and basically paid for him to come to the states with him.

so without a word to his parents or friends, he moved to the states at 14.

those people were not really ‘good’ people, but they took jaehyuk under their wing and taught him how to fight, how to handle weapons and how to take care of himself.

n not long after that, he was ‘initiated’ into their gang as nothing but a runner

which he loved for a while, but he wanted more, he wanted to climb up the ladder.. so that’s what he did. by whatever means necessary.

it took him a few years of busting his ass and doing whatever he was told to do, but that paid off by the leader appointing jae as his right hand.

it was more power than he’d ever had before, and he thrived off of it.

sadly, though, the leader and a few other men got involved in a drug deal gone bad and he lost them.

but on the other hand, that meant jae, who’d been the right-hand for a year or so, was now the leader. he had the most amount of power within that gang and he took full advantage of it.

personality.

hides behind a wall of sarcasm, cockiness, anger and lust.

doesn’t really care to get to know people and had a tendency to push people away before they get too close to him. because he really… doesn’t want to get hurt again & doesn’t want to put them @ risk.

wears glasses to read and mess w computers, but hates them a lot and probably won’t wear them if people are around.

wears tf out of jeans, v-necks, sweats, leather jackets and anything that makes him look like your typical fuckboi ?? it’s kinda his aesthetic.

is …. stubborn as hell and refuses to ask for help with anything.

his motorcyle and cars are literally his babies ??? like he ?? has a problem ??

a hotmess

loves halloween so much?? he gets so hype for that holiday it’s unreal.

fluent in a lot of languages, picked them up so that he didn’t need translators at meetings and the likes.

lowkey worried that people will figure out that he’s actually v hurt inside because that’ll cause him to start having to deal with his feelings again, and he doesn’t wanna do that.

is the biggest flirt you will ever meet?? like if he’s speaking 2 u… its usually flirty as hell unless it has 2 do w business or he’s just known u for centuries ?

will try to get everyone to go to bars n parties with him because that’s his life in a nutshell ??

hella nerd on the inside though like owns so many comic books, loves to play video games, read books, plays piano / violin & all that jazz.

super, super intelligent. could probably work @ nasa but instead he decided to do what he does & he honestly… ain’t complaining.

drinks..heavily.. like every night?? it’s a problem tbh.

he cares… god he cares so much about people and the world but he pretends to hate everything because it’s easier than letting people in.

full of horrible and cheesy pick up lines and jokes and frequently texts people said pick up lines and jokes.

owns a book that is full of nothing but blank pages and keeps it on his coffee table because he ‘relates’ to it.

is a highkey hoe but he keeps it on the dl

super into fitness as it’s a way to keep him away from drinking every evening. ( that doesn’t work lol )

loves boxing so much and can be seen at the gym quite a bit.. also has bruised knuckles 24/7 because of it as it’s a way to take out his aggression and feelings out on a punching bag?

speaking of... anger issues af.

actually super kind and caring once you’re able to see get past his wall?? which is really hard to do due to his job but if u do it he’ll cherish u.

has a bad habit of smoking whenever he’s stressed out, which is usually all of the time so he smokes…. more than he should

highkey into cuddling and all the cute shit like that but would literally never tell a soul because then they’d see that he isn’t such a hardass.

is a burnt cupcake who has really good intentions but has extremely horrible execution skills. ( and no i don’t mean the violent kind bc he’s actually v good @ that )

plot ideas.

bad influence. ( on your muse. )

best friends.

childhood friend.

competition.

confidant.

cousin.

current hook up(s).

drinking buddies.

drunken hook up.

enemies that used to be friends.

enemies.

exes who ended on bad terms.

flirtationship.

frenemies.

friendly competition.

friends that used to be enemies.

friends with benefits.

good influence. ( on jaehyuk. )

hate sex.

one night stand(s). ( past & present. )

partner in crime.

party buddies.

past hook up(s).

ride or die.

social media friends.

trouble makers.

unlikely friends.

#soundintro #❝ ✦ ◜ᴀ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴛ.◞ — OUT OF CHARACTER.

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sandcastles-hedestroys · 6 years

Note

1-70 I want to know it all in great detail

I see, the key to getting asks is to passive-aggressively tag your friends.

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

Anyone who has ever known me in real life knows I absolutely do not. I have an alcoholic, compulsive liar for a mother and an absent father, plus some grandparents who are so convinced that they are my actual parents that they would probably kick me out if they learned I refer to them as my grandparents. Fun times.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

Either my dog or yours lol. I don’t like telling people I love them. That’s something to be shown through your actions, otherwise the word loses its meaning.

03: Do you regret anything?

I don’t even know where to start with this one. I’ve regretted basically every major decision I’ve made, and I probably shouldn’t be allowed to think for myself. If I had to name a few things that I regret right now, I would say I regret spending my spring break being so bitter. I really did have a good time, but I would have enjoyed myself more if I hadn’t tried to make it about me. My other big regret at the moment is cancelling my campus residence app. I screwed myself out of a guaranteed place and now I’m stuck with a bunch of drama and uncertainty. Also, there’s a friend that I’ve had for years and there were times when I was pretty horrible to her and she stuck with me despite it. I wish I had been mature enough at the time to be the person she needed in her life, instead of causing drama.

04: Are you insecure?

Extremely. I have a lot of insecurities about my body, mostly my face and hair, but a lot of my family in underweight and it was kind of instilled in me, that to be attractive I had to be underweight, like I remember when I started high school I made it a goal to stay below 110lbs until after graduation. I was still growing so that goal was as unrealistic as it was unhealthy. I’ve struggled with disordered eating since I was like 12. Other than that I can be really insecure about asking for the things I want and need. One of my biggest fears is people seeing me as selfish.

05: What is your relationship status?

I’m a single Pringle! I was in a relationship for a few months, but I got dumped because I consistently put my friends before her, which is funny because I’m in the middle of some conflicts with friends over not talking with them enough. I’ve been on a few dates and stuff since then, but I’m in a bad place right now mental health wise, so being single is probably for the best rn.

06: How do you want to die?

This is kind of dark, but I don’t really care how I die as long as I’m in control of how it happens. If there’s a really wild and interesting story involved that would be even better.

07: What did you last eat?

I’m munching on some green chili peanuts with a crap ton of Diet Coke. I’m at home right now so I’ve been eating way more than usual.

08: Played any sports?

I used to do ballet, gymnastics, contemporary and jazz, as well as various ballroom dances. I’ve blocked most of it out and lost a lot of my flexibility, but I would love to return to ballet at some point. I miss gymnastics too, but I’m too tall for it lol.

09: Do you bite your nails?

I’ve always been weirdly prideful of my nails and the thought of biting them has always freaked me out, like my nails are my babies. Keeping them nice is a big deal to me so my chompers can stay the hell away lmao

10: When was your last physical fight?

I’ve never actually been in a physical fight. The closest encounters were last semester, when my old roommate got a concussion from a crazy person that used to live with us, and a few years ago when I let a friend slap me.

11: Do you like someone?

I’m assuming this means like like. I’m not super interested in dating right now, but there have been people that have sparked my interest recently.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

I am smol and weak. My fragile shell of a body would actually start to disintegrate if I tried this. I’ve only made it to 24hrs once and my body like completely shut down.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

I don’t like using the word hate for the same reasons I don’t like using the word love. There are people that I will not associate myself with and there are people in my life that I don’t feel any positive emotions towards, but there isn’t anyone that I could comfortably say I hate.

14: Do you miss someone?

There are a lot of people from my life a few years back that I really miss, but I have to remind myself that I was a different person then, and some bonds are meant to be broken. I also really miss a lot of the friends I have at school. I take them for granted until we’re apart and then I feel all hallow, like part of me left too and that really sucks.

15: Have any pets?

I have a Chihuahua-weiner mix. He’s super old and he doesn’t have a tail and his name is Bob. He’s great. My aunt’s dog is basically my dog too, and he’s a pit mix. His name is Chester and he is actually a giant teddy bear. My friends have a doggo too, her name is Gwen and I am her aunt. She is the most talented and amazing fluffer who deserves the world.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

I’m at that weirdly numb point right now where emotions are like a foreign concept to me. I’ve been super stressed and I have a lot of pretty serious decisions at the back of my mind that I can do nothing about at the moment. I’m super behind on my schoolwork and with all this stress, I know I can’t catch up. It’s super frustrating and there’s been a lot of drama amongst my friend group, making me feel like I can’t really trust anyone in my life right now. My age has been preventing me from doing so much recently and since my birthday is around the corner, even the people who claim to understand have been super condescending about my anger over it. There have also been a lot of deaths recently in the city where I go to school, and I’ve learned that death is a bit of a trigger for me, so that hasn’t been fun. I feel like I’m one serious breakdown from being there myself and that’s super scary.

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

Somehow, no.

18: Are you scared of spiders?

When I was little I was really afraid of spiders and would go out of my way to have them killed. I had intense breakdowns whenever I thought a web touched me. Now, I regret having hurt innocent creatures and I think spiders are really cool. Leave the land crabs alone!

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Yeah, knowing what I know now, I think that it would be cool to try and get myself to the point where I am now, but without a lot of the drama.

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

My dorm room lol.

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

I’m taking a greyhound back to my college town on Saturday, and Sunday I’m returning to my normal schedule. I’m not looking forward to that eight hour bus ride.

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

I’m kind of a lone wolf, and I really want to travel so kinds aren’t really in the picture, at least not until I’ve gotten my doctorate. Even then I would either adopt or use a donor, and I wouldn’t have more than two.

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

Right now only my ears are pierced, but I plan on getting my septum done in May, followed by a double medusa. I also really want dimples and a brow done. Eventually I’d do my nipples and stomach as well.

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

I’ve always been geared toward the liberal arts. I love all things involving art, history, and languages. I low-key have always enjoyed math too. I’m working on my bachelors in comparative cultural studies with minors in queer studies and museum studies. I want to carry that on to a masters in gender studies and a phd in Buddhist art. After that I’d like to go back to school fo economics and eventually obtain a masters in economic history.

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

I miss people from my past when I’m unsatisfied with the people currently in my life. I have to remind myself that they aren’t around anymore for a reason and that it’s more important to work on the relationships that are relevant. Dwelling on the past does more harm than good.

26: What are you craving right now?

Some love and affection? I’m not craving anything really. I could just use some peace and quiet.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Yes. I’ve broken an ex’s heart when I ended the relationship. I was unhappy, to the point where I cheated. This was also the point when I started to question if I was actually a lesbian. I dumped him and never told him why. I broke my friend’s heart when I led her on, but then rejected her because I was in love with someone else (who did something similar to me). I broke my aunt’s heart when I told her I felt like I don’t have a family. I broke my biological mother’s heart when I made it clear that I didn’t want her in my life. I’m pretty good at the whole hurting others thing.

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

It’s very possible, but if someone did, they never told me.

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

I can’t name a specific time, but I’m sure it’s happened.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

What isn’t irritating me right now? Oh my god.

31: Does somebody love you?

I’ve had a lot of people tell me they do, but I have a hard time feeling it most of the time.

32: What is your favourite color?

I love every color, and I don’t like making colors feel left out, so my favorite changes a lot. Right now it’s yellow, because yellow is a bright, warm, happy color. I also really like pink. The pastels of both of those are 10/10

33: Do you have trust issues?

I legit don’t even trust myself. The only person I honestly trust 100% is my aunt. I have really bad trust issues, but I also overshare a ton. My life is a cycle of sharing my life story and then panicking.

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

The other night I went to sleep while drunk and I had this wild dream where I met someone, learned his whole life story, flirted and eventually fell in love with him, came out to him, saying I’m not sexually attracted to guys (he came out as ace too so it was perf), and then he was hit by a car, causing irreparable brain damage. I woke up right after, but that dream will haunt me.

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

My aunt. I was updating her on my life in college, and it’s been less than ideal.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

I’m a huge believer of forgive but don’t forget. I used to be so bad about grudges that I would be angry even after forgetting what I was upset about. I guess I have the opposite issue here.

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Forgive. Like I said above, I might forgive you, but knowing what someone did before will always leaving me searching for instances of them doing it again. Trust issues who?

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

It’s only March and I already know that it will be one of the worst years of my life. Ugh.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

I think I was thirteen. I didn’t know how I felt about guys at the time and I almost puked in that poor dude’s mouth.

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

I have, and it was terrifying. Midday skinny dipping wasn’t one of my greatest ideas.

51: Favourite food?

Avocado on toast with a poached egg on top, muffuletta, yellow curry, and eggs benedict are my top ones.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Absolutely. I didn’t really believe this until my roommate’s big fight last year. So much happened in one night, that wouldn’t have happened if we had done things even a second later. It was wild, but it was like there was so much pent up negative energy that the universe needed to release, and it found a way to make that happen.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

I put some food away.

54: Is cheating ever okay?

The thing about cheating is that it’s when you go out of your way to do something with someone else when you know it would hurt your current partner. It’s something that happens when you aren’t happy in your relationship, and in a lot of cases it can be a cry for help. It is hurtful and a sign that a relationship isn’t meant to be, but cheaters shouldn’t always be villainized.

55: Are you mean?

I can be, but I try not to.

56: How many people have you fist fought?

None, lol

57: Do you believe in true love?

Not really. There are so many people that we have things in common with or who exist on the same wavelength. We might find someone that makes us happy for a long while, but nothing is permanent.

58: Favourite weather?

I love hot, sunny days when you can leave windows open, wear shorts, and only drink things with ice.

59: Do you like the snow?

I lived in Alaska for over nine years before moving to the Sonoran desert. I moved to Northern Arizona for school, and when I saw snow again, it was as an adult who only saw the negative aspects of it. I hate being cold.

60: Do you wanna get married?

I don’t see myself ever being married. I would have to really love someone if I were to actually settle down and start a life with them. Right now I really only see it as something that would tie me down.

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

I honestly hate baby as a pet name. It freaks me out. The only pet names I find cute are the unusual ones, like once when an ex accidentally called me cornbread.

62: What makes you happy?

Getting my nails done, binging my favorite show (Archer), travel, doggos, wandering around in stores with my music blasting so I can feel like I’m somewhere away from my problems, seeing people impressed with food I made, completing a project and being proud of my work, etc.

63: Would you change your name?

I hate my birth name, but I’m also afraid I’ve been conditioned to feel that way by my grandparents as a way to attack my bio mom. Because of that, I’ve been going by my middle name and various nicknames. Most people close to me call me Abby, but my favorite thing is to be called Lynn. I’m pretty hesitant to legally change it though.

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

Yeah, the last person I kissed kinda sexually assaulted me, and I’d like to avoid that.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Reject them as nicely as possible. Dating would be bad for me right now, and I’m pretty sure I’m not sexually attracted to men.

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

I don’t think I have a best friend, period. I don’t think I’m entirely myself around anyone through. Different people will bring out different parts of my personality.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Not sure tbh.

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

My aunt. The conversation we had about my life at school was pretty emotional.

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

No, for the same reason I don’t believe in true love. Life is too impermanent for there to be someone our soul fits with perfectly. There is too much change for something to be predetermined like that.

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

Anyone who has ever been somewhat nice too me. Honestly though I would be willing to die for a lot of people. The thought of anyone else having to suffer really sucks and if I can save them from that, I would.

#long post #thanks shelbs

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ricky-najjar · 4 years

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About Me

When I was growing up, it was expected that I would become a doctor. Since I could practically remember my mother and father kept introducing me as “Future Dr. Najjar.” It was a pair of shoes I knew I couldn’t fill in, I wasn’t particularly gifted in biology, nor any sort of math. I was forced to go to tutoring every day when I was in elementary school, they hoped it would knock some sense into me then. By the time I was fourteen, my parents dream of me becoming a doctor became less realistic.

I grew interested in reading at a young age, I was picking up books well above my age group since I was seven. By the time I was ten, I found myself bored of fiction and started working on biographies, historical non-fiction, even reading encyclopedias to keep myself informed. I was eleven years old when I read my first Abraham Lincoln book. The first of the collection was 800-pages, it was considered to be the “end all” of biographies for this great president. I read that in a month, and the second one in six weeks. It was around then I consider my love for history to have blossomed into a full obsession. Every year for my birthday and Christmas I begged for another book, when I had my fill of Lincoln I went after Jefferson Davis, Ulysees S Grant, Robert E Lee, and the Civil War entirely. I started making connections with them, comparing the author’s thesis as to why this horrible American tragedy occured. For my senior project in high school, I wrote and presented a paper on the continuing effects from the Civil War. Not only did it gain attention in my district, but to the rest of Pennsylvania as it was published in the newspaper the following week. I was given a scholarship to continue my studies in college. While I was ecstatic to major in History at the University of Pennsylvania, I knew my parents were disappointed.

College was a different experience altogether, I had to say goodbye to my family and friends every semester in order to live on campus. Out of everyone, it was the hardest to say goodbye to Elisabeth Robinson, the friend I’ve had since I could walk. We were two different sides of the same misunderstood coin. Her parents had similar dreams for her but she chose a different path. I was really the only one who understood her, and her anger issues that stemmed from her parents. She would visit me any chance she got, each time it was known that her parent’s anger against her and themselves was wearing down on her. When I was living in my own apartment by my junior year I offered her a chance to stay, and she denied due to her own dreams taking her elsewhere. It was for the best, at that point I was studying for my GREs and getting ready to go to grad school.

I graduated Magna Cum Laude with my Bachelor’s Degree in History in May of 2008. With that I was given the opportunity to finish my schooling at George Washington University in Washington D.C. It was prestigious, at least in regards to working in the museum industry. A degree from there would open many doors for me. My family threw a large graduation party, only because my cousin Karim had also graduated from Yale - top of his class and in molecular biology. When it was our chance to give our thank you speeches he went first, telling everyone about his plans to become a surgeon and bring our family name up in the world. When it was my turn to give one, I simply thanked my mother and father for pushing me to my absolute limit in getting my degree. I can still see my father sighing and taking a long swing from his drink.

Leaving the area was the best decision I made in life, I felt like I finally became my own person in Washington D.C. It was a nice change of pace to be surrounded by people who loved history just as much as I did. Those two years of my life went by quickly, and before I knew it, it was time to defend everything I had been working on since I could remember. My thesis was a continuation of everything I had read up on since I was young, it was something I grew to be passionate about and protected at all cost. When I was hit with the questions from everyone in the group, I instantly had an answer as soon as it was asked. My professors were impressed, proud, and everything else that they should be. When I returned the news to my parents, they expressed some sort of happiness - just not to the same extent.

I came home for a week after I walked across the stage one last time. My mother insisted on throwing another graduation party despite my pleas not to. It wasn’t nearly as big, and most of the people there used it as an excuse to drink without judgement at four in the afternoon. I hid in my room for most of it, reading my own thesis for the hundredth time to myself. Despite what everyone else thought of my degree, this was something I could be proud of for the rest of my life. I was asleep when I heard a faint knock on my door, and without warning Kathleen Robinson entered my room. She expressed how sorry she was that Scott and Elisabeth couldn’t attend, citing that they both were at different parts of the world. I didn’t really care, considering I had lost contact with Lizzie after she hastily made a decision to move to Brazil and do missionary work. I couldn’t tell how drunk Mrs. Robinson was, but she seemed so sure of herself when she started coming on to me. Despite my best efforts to push her away, we ended up together that night.

I tried to stay in Washington for as long as I could, getting a mediocre job during my first summer out of school. Money became too tight, my loans were starting to collect up, ultimately it forced me to move back home. I was thankful that a former professor pulled some strings to get me a manager’s position at the Museum of the American Revolution back at home. During my time at home Mrs. Robinson continued to show her interest in me by coming over every day to “speak to my mother.” When she went to the kitchen that's when her true intentions started, telling me how handsome I’ve gotten over the years, how she’s missed me, stuff that made my skin crawl at first. The more she came over, the more comfortable I got with her. She ultimately won this sick game she created with me through persuasion, all while her family and my mother and father remained clueless on it.

I lost any remaining respect I had for myself in those few months. Any time I tried to breakaway she pulled me back in, telling me I would be worthless without her. I started to believe her, even going as far as agreeing with what she was telling me. I am worthless. Hopeless. No one could ever love me like she did. I started lying to my parents as to where I was, and when they questioned I argued that I was an adult and could go wherever I pleased. If Mr.Robinson was away on a business trip, it was almost expected I would come over. That first year back home is almost a blur to me now, one that would continue to haunt me for the rest of my life.

Elisabeth finally came home, and with nowhere to go she moved back in with her parents. Things got complicated from there. Her mother tried to find different ways to invite me over, later at night, during my lunch, sometimes she would come to my house unannounced and demanded my attention. My cracking point was when Lizzie invited me out to lunch one day and told me that she missed me. She said that the last few years had helped her anger issues in many ways and she was ready to move on. She kissed me then, and unlike her mother it was genuine, sweet, like she actually did love me. That night I informed her mother I was done playing her little game. To my surprise, she was okay with it. My life seemed to go right for a little bit. I was doing better at my job, Lizzie and I were in love, and more importantly we were officially getting our own place together. Her mother never said a word to me, even when I was over at her house to see her daughter. It was like something about us moving forward startled her, and after a year and a half of us being together - she broke the news while I was helping her pack. She didn’t believe her at first, but when I didn’t deny my actions she grew disgusted and kicked me out. Our little bit of happiness was cut short.

I couldn’t stay in Philadelphia any longer. I had to move back to the place that had given me the closest thing I had to peace in my life. I was given a chance to come back when Ford’s Theater called me in for an interview, practically giving me that job the second I walked in. With my life in full swing once again, I took what little pride I had left and ran away from home.

#about me #rp #introduction

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