#his rebellion? his angst? WHAT I KNOW ABOUT FUTURE HIM... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wangxianficfinder · 8 months

Text

In the mood for...

~*~

1. ITMF: Just finished ShanaStoryteller's "By Any Other Name" where resurrected WWX pretends to be a woman, and it's put me in the mood for fic where he is actually resurrected as a woman but, here's the key: he's hamstrung by the extremely patriarchal society he's in. The few fic I've read that have him in a woman's body usually hand wave over that but I'd love to read a fic that doesn't. Anything like that out there??? @kimboo-york

To Deserve So Much More by renysen (locked to archive) (T, 20k, wangxian, summoned by f!oc, getting together, Mojo’s post) has WWX resurrected by the youngest daughter of a non-cultivating family and deals with several issues of him being a woman as a result.

~*~

2. do you know any fics that explore what happens if yzy lives past the wen attack on lp? wwx blamed himself enough without her active vitriol so i'd love to read how her survival would impact the yunmeng trio (esp wwx) and/or the war. thank you!

💖 Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) has YZY surviving the fall of LP & has stuff about how her leadership is different from JC

Yearning for Miles by Murahi (M, 378k, WangXian, LQR/SiSi, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Slow burn, Mutual Pining, seeing the future) has YZY surviving IIRC (it's been a while since I read it & I bailed partway through so idk how it goes) & the tags mention YZY redemption

~*~

3. hi ! in the mood for fics (canon) that feature wangxian and lan sizhui ! it doesn’t need to be about them as parents, although it definitely can, but just having them (especially lwj) act parental or acknowledged as parents or exist as a family unit would be much appreciated, kind of like “Crack me open, pour you out” by tenillypo. basically any parental canon wangxian (even just featured) would be amazing thank you !! @willesnelson

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (WordsWritInStarlight) (G, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, inquiry, Music, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, podfic available)

kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst) it's set in canon times however its def an AU storyline but you get a lot of family feels

Finding Balance Series by Zombubble (G/T, 117k, WangXian, Character Study, Canon Compliant, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Death, Grief, But only a little, Nightmare, Canon-Typical Violence, within a nightmare, injuries, Underage Drinking, Light Angst, Happy Ending, JC Being an Asshole, but not too bad, Anxiety, Grief/Mourning, Self-Reflection, Conflict Resolution, Internal Conflict, lots of talking, Lots of Thinking, LSZ-centric, Soft LQR, Sort Of, Collective Bargaining, LSZ accidentally incites a mini off-screen rebellion, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Canon, mild panic attack) not sure if its quite what #3 is asking (most recent itmf post) but there's a post-canon sizhui-centric series about sizhui coming to terms with remembering he's a wen and stuff, and the last two in the series (esp the last one) have parental wangxian helping him work through things

~*~

4. Itmf wwx n friends as a crazy crack funny af potty mouthed wholesome group!! Modern au. Them being crack heads in a nut. Like, doing stuff like sneaking out, putting skates and running at night, sitting in shopping trolly and pushing it ahead, Fighting in Instagram comments section. Just wwx an friends. Idm relationships.

He lo I'm for #4 itmf. fic is really good, but not what I was aiming for, cuz yeah the plot was chef's kiss, but didn't had much of wy n frnds, lemme clear: wy n frnds shenanigans, doing stupid things, what the fuk moments. This time doesn't matter if it's canon, modern or alternate Universe. Thankyou

The Fifth Type of Non-Contact Force by Caixx (Not Rated, 83k, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Fluff and Humor, Actually Somewhat Canon, Mutual Pining, Horny Teenagers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Non-Graphic Smut) lots of shenanigans here

Carefully Orchestrated Plans (no strings attached) by Maledictius (T, 101k, WangXian, Modern AU, Chatting & Messaging, Orchestra, Fluff and Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gossip)

~*~

5. ITMF!! What’s a wangxian fic you’ve read where, as you sadly leave your last kudos on the last chapter, you think, THIS COULD BE A MOVIE 😤!

Those fast paced, edge of your seat, tight plot, spot on character fics that you’d buy a ticket to see? Or maybe a smaller lyrical fic that could totally be an art house short film?

I was rereading Hobbsy3’s Tragedy is Not the End. I always have to make myself popcorn it’s so good! So yep, that’s my movie fic!

Dear mods, please direct me to the right list if this has been asked before!! 💚

Wei Wuxian Makes a Wish series by natcat5 (M, 119k, wangxian, major character death, underage, madoka magica au, modern w/ magic, time travel, high school au, body horror, self-harm, angst w/ bittersweet ending, time loop, mental instability, suicidal thoughts) is it cheating if it's technically based on a movie? I didn't need to know anything about what this is based on besides a quick Google but if asker is looking for something that leaves them feeling breathless with all kinds of feelings this is the first one that came to mind

💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX survives, sect leader WWX, yiling wei sect au, slow burn, angst w/ happy ending, getting together, pining, love confessions, reunions, mind all the tags) I just read this and the descriptions of the armor and battlefields really felt like they would suit huge movie screens. It just had that imax vibe, ya know?

Also maybe 5 should look at the “Beautiful Writing and Good Plot” Compilation | Pt. 2 comps a lot of the fics on there feel like a movie

花无百日红; the flower that withers by yiqie (M, 29k, wangxian, Time Travel Fix-It of Sorts, Case Fic, Spells & Enchantments, Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, It's about the emotional catharsis, If you have ever laughed at WWX clowning himself for the 'no one will marry you' scene, This fic is: for you) i'm not a writer so i can't describe the feelings this fic evoked in me, but this is one of those fics that is so prettily written and if it's got a movie adaptation i would definitely watch it

In Imitation of Life by travelingneuritis (E, 70k, wangxian, modern cultivation, scifi au, android WWX, tone: neon seedy, rich people are bored and terrible, post-apocalyptoc landscape, happy ending, smut, severe major characger injury, time loss) everything this author writes is like a movie tbh

symmetry by bleuett (M, 44k, WangXian, Space, Science Fiction, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Holding Hands, Blow Jobs, Hand Feeding, Cultivation in Space, Yearning, Reunions, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Injuries, Grief/Mourning, Unconventional Time Travel, Burial Mounds) I remember reading this and getting major interstellar vibes

💖 Pentimento. by orange_crushed (E, 73k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, art conservation, museums, pining, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending, misunderstandings, smut, major character injury, hospitalization, hurt/comfort, past incarceration, forgery) this is like an A24 Sundance festival winner, author writes such incredible prose

Post Mortem by Cataclysmic_Calamity (E, 78k, wangxian, modern, Psychological Horror, friends with benefits, they're both fucked up but they love each other so much, Slow Burn Mystery, Unnegotiated Kink, Dom/sub, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Con, Stalking, Drug Addiction, Serial Killers, in Wei Ying's desire to critique the 'final girl' trope he accidentally becomes one, Angst with a Happy Ending, meta commentary on the horror and true crime genres) A horror movie!!!! Very much on the edge of your seat.

~*~

6. Huge thanks to the mods and participants for this wonderful blog! You keep my Mark for Later list going strong.

ITMF fics where someone tries to harm WWX because of LWJ. Maybe they're obsessively in love with him and want to get rid of the competition, or maybe they hate him and want to hurt him in the worst way possible by hurting the one he loves most, or whatever. Bonus points if Wangxian assume that whoever seems to be coming after WWX is coming after him because he's the Yiling Laozu instead of because he's LWJs love, and so they make wrong assumptions and mistakes. Happy for similar recs also, even if it's not a perfect fit! No Jiang Cheng bashing though plz. Thanks all! @flamingwell

this body yet survives by RoseThorne (T, 50k, WIP, WangXian, No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Protective Siblings, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, Depression, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL)

A Soft Storm by AvoOwO (Not rated, 47k, wangxian, modern au, hurt WWX, LWJ pov, protective LWJ, not SS friendly, car accidents, hurt/comfort, heavy angst w happy ending, sexual harrasment, stalking, crying, blood & injury & gore, major character injury, college, slut shaming, insults)

Coincidence is Another Man's Fate by TriviasFolly (M, 164k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega wwx, Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, WangXian play the long game, UNTIL THEY DON'T, Getting Together, fated pairs, Eventual Attempted Sexual Assult and Recovery, Modern Setting - Office, Mpreg)

~*~

7. Hi!! Does anyone know of any fics where dual cultivation classes are part of the lectures that all the young masters attend? I’d love to see them paired up to meditate, study, duel, night hunt, perhaps even take a couple of sex magic classes. In my head I am picturing something like those Harry Potter fics where students are paired due to compatible magic and they study together regardless of house division. Thank you!

turn towards the sun by Ariaste (E, 21k, WangXian, Kushiel's Legacy Fusion, The Night Court (Kushiel's Legacy), Kink Negotiation, Courtesans, Intimacy, BDSM, Consent, Wangxian's canonical fetishes, roughly Cloud Recesses-era, Extracurricular Kissing, Impact Play, Kink Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, (aka Madam Yu being canonically willing to hit WWX)) This may not be exactly what was requested but it’s definitely school and wangxian definitely “study” together:)

~*~

8. Are there any fics where Wei Wuxian purposely tries to seduce Lan Wangji? Like he wears revealing clothes, touches him more often, moans while eating...etc? Like, Wei Wuxian knows Lan Wangji likes him and is trying to make him crack by being all flirty/seductive?

puzzle pieces by Yuisaki (T, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Roommates, Fluff, Humor, Friends to Lovers, Sharing Clothes, Getting Together, Pining)

~*~

9. Hi mods! Can I ask for the next ITMF for some fics where WWX, JFM or even LQR are angry at Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren for not being careful enough during night hunts and leaving WWX alone? Something along the lines of why they didn't have a back up plan or why didn't they leave WY in Lotus Pier or somewhere else where he would be looked after while they were busy and risking something happening to him bc they didn't tell anyone where their child was if something happened to them. Doesn't really need to be bashing but definitely some abandonment issues and not WWX just being alright with what his parents did and wanting to do the same

Thanks!! @jiangclaritybell

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Mojo’s bookmark) Lan Jingyi (very) briefly mentions how stupid it was for WWX's parents to just leave him when they went off night hunting

~*~

10. Hii!! I hope you guys are well <3

I have a request for the next itmf, i recently read a fic where wwx is adopted by hua lian, so I was wondering if you had more fics in the same category?? The fic i read was the hearth series by eccentrick!!

Thank you in advance ❤️❤️

there's a whole tag Huā Chéng & Xiè Lián (Tiān Guān Cì Fú) Adopt Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn for that, but in specific

Hua Xianle by Tiffany_Guinne (Not rated, 170k, hualian, wangxian, TGCF, canon divergence, not Jiang friendly, madam lan lives, WWX adopted by hualian, WWX with different name, overprotective hualian, hurt WWX, WIP)

Narrative of Strength by MeltedIceAngel (T, 61k, WIP, WangXian, HuaLian, Canon Divergence, Adopt WWX, Found Family, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective XL, Protective HC, Adoption, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, TGCF)

~*~

11. Hello, for the next In the mood for, do you have any wangxian fan fic recs of novel canon divergence/fix it that do not feature yunmeng bros reconciliation? Thank you so much in advance!

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, WWX & JYL, canon divergence, time travel, rogue cultivator WWX, no golden core transfer, not cultivation world friendly, not JC friendly, OCs) WWX travels back in time & goes fuck the cultivation world & JC in particular

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence) WWX rebuilds his core while living in the Burial Mounds, JC loses his & is pissed about it

~*~

12. Can you recommend me Darkji fanfic and an oblivious weiying or a dark dark lanzhan where there's an abuse and manipulation included I don't mind🫶🏻

Obelus by Celestios (Not rated, 167k, wangxian, rape/non-con, non-con elements, NO rape, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Punishments, Spanking, Punishments, Dubious Morality, Dubious Consent, physical discipline, Physical Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Abusive Relationship, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of violence, mention of drugs, Mention of alcohol, Possessive Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, dark LWJ, Baker WWX, Bodyguard WN, Mentions of weapons, Gun mentions, Slow Burn, Long, Doctor WQ, Self Medicating, WWX has ADHD, Trauma Bonding, Psychological Manipulation, Gaslighting, Organized Crime, underground crime, Underground business, illegal business)

3-in-1 Shampoo/Conditioner/Bodywash - the Real Gateway Drug by Anonymous (E, 22k, WIP, WangXian, one sided wangxian (but for how long?), sketchy as fuck LWJ, does this count as dark! LWJ, implied bi WWX, modern au - no cultivation, Piss Marking, Come Marking, cum in food, brief cameo of food fucking, piss in food, Exhibitionism, Sloppy Seconds, Alcoholism, mention piss drinking, No Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, sexually charged assisted pissing, accidental hold, Omorashi, freak4freak, emotional manipulation/subdrop of sorts, co-pissing, panty huffing, Degradation, dubcon blowjob, FaceFucking, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, pissing on someone who's passed out drunk, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation, Mutual Masturbation, jerking off walkthrough (with commentary), threats of edging, mutual CNC fantasies, Unreliable Narrator, I gave LWJ the LBH sized cock he deserves, Bathing, pissing in fleshlight) 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/bodywash - the real gateway drug for itfm 12. It’s more extremely dubious consent than actual abuse, but there is definitely a bit of gaslighting.

Kinkotber Day 4: A Shift in Perspective by Anonymous (E, 2k, WangXian, Stockholm Syndrome, Rape/Non-con Elements, there's no violence but he certainly doesn't ask for concent, Dark LWJ, Oblivious WWX, Cockwarming, Exhibitionism, bimboification (kind of), collaring (at the end), Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, PWP, Almost No Dialogue) as the tags say - no actual violence but deffo non/dubcon elements

~*~

13. Hello, do you know any modern or canon au wx fics where wangxian never interacted when they were kids/students but lwj still had a quiet crush on wwx?

and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They’re Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

14. this might be a weirdly specific request for itmf, but I was wondering if you know of any fics where, either through reincarnation or time travel what have you, Lan Sizhui/Wen Yuan raises Wei Ying or Lan Zhan as his child(ren)?

~*~

15. For the next ITMF, can you recommend fic where characters OTHER than wangxian take ownership of their actions prior to wwx's death? (e.g. abandoning wwx/wen civilians to their fate, the mass slaughter of innocents, stealing & profiting off his work while slandering him, etc). I'm not interested in fics where this ownership has a caveat ("it was bad, but wwx was equally bad or worse" - these are fine but it's just not what I want to read.) Thanks! @balleyboley

~*~

16. Anything with wwx with low self-steem????

the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 88k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

Welcome to the Family Series by jiejieaini (E, 237k, WangXian, Modern, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Angst, Explicit Sex)

❤️ The One-Body Problem by metisket (T, 29k, LJY & WWX, LJY & LSZ, wangxian, possession, cohabitation, Mojo’s bookmark) (link in #9) Seeing the “low self esteem” ask in ITMF made me go: any fic ever? If you want a funny response to it, metisket’s One Body Problem has Jingyi. Enough said.

Don't Leave Me by TrippinOnSkies (E, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Marriage Proposal, Mental Breakdown, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Panic Attacks, But they are very mild, Overthinking, Good Sibling JC, Break Up, Gentle Sex, Gentle Kissing, Idiots in Love, Pining, Misunderstandings, Oblivious WWX, LWJ Has Feelings, LWJ is Whipped, Getting Together, NHS & WWX Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy EndingInsecure WWX, WWX Has Issues, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, Sad WWX, WWX is Bad at Communicating)

could you find a way to let me down slowly, if you're leaving baby let me down slowly by ravenditefairylights (M, 36k, WangXian, XuanLi, Past MingXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Implied/Referenced Sex, Miscommunication, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, Unreliable Narrator, Self-Esteem Issues, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Protective Siblings, Trauma, Slightly dubious consent, courtesy of drunk sex, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Phoenix Mountain, Chronic Pain, Getting Together, Fix-It of Sorts, One Braincell Trio, PTSD)

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey (T, 29k, WangXian, POV WWX, WWX Needs a Hug, WWX's Abyssmal Self-Esteem, Emotional Healing, Angst, The Juniors love their Senior Wei, Curses, WWX is an Unreliable Narrator, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling)

pastel by antebunny (G, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Soulmates, Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unrequited Love, but not actually)

to be loved by wqngji (G, 1k, WangXian, Insecure WWX, Petty LWJ, JC is So Done, Domestic Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Doubt, Hugs, Hurt WWX)

leading tone by silencemostofall (G, 32k, WangXian, Modern AU, Soulmates, with a lil twist, Eventual Happy Ending, it will not look like it until the very end but I promise there's a happy ending, lesbian wq rights, Music, Orchestra, platonic and romantic pining, wwx's serious self-worth issues, [Podfic] Leading Tone by silencemostofall by Beria1021)

~*~

17. Is there a fic in which yiling people are protective of wei ying and wants him to come back

End Racism in the OTW | The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts) it’s mentioned briefly, I believe

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

164 notes · View notes

taesclub · 10 months

Text

The Wild Child, Act I ✦ BTS

✦ BTS x Fem! Oc's

━━━━━ ( SYNOPSIS. ) She is suddenly forced to attend the all-girls boarding school, St. Victoria's. Determined to break free, she tries to escape. Her only problem? To do so she must go through the neighboring boarding school and its notorious group, the Bangtan boys. Among them, one member captivates her the most, blurring the line between rebellion and romance.

genre. boarding school au, angst, fluff, smut

word count. 4,586

warnings. only curses for now

-ˋˏ masterlist ✦ next ˎˊ-

ACT I.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Claire, a tall girl with an eighty's aura and a shag haircut, sits in the passenger seat of her father's car, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The car hums with tension as they drive down the road, the passing scenery reflecting the girl's inner turmoil. She was about to meet her doom.

She gazes out the window, her expression a mix of anger and frustration. The weight of her resentment hangs heavy in the air.

“I can't believe you're making me go to some stupid all-girls boarding school, Dad. This is so unfair!” she grimaces. This had been her constant complaint ever since receiving the news, but somehow, like a broken record, she still held onto those words, praying it would be enough to make her dad rethink his decision. It wasn’t.

Her father, Mr. Deschamps, a middle-aged man with tired eyes due to his rushed businessman life, glances at her with a mixture of concern and regret. “Claire, we've talked about this. It's a better opportunity for you. You'll have a chance to focus on your studies and discover new interests.” he insists softly.

Claire scoffs, her frustration boiling over.

Her voice sounds angry as she replies, “Better opportunity?! What about my life here? My friends? You're ripping me away from everything I know!”

Her father's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his tone laced with remorse.

“Claire, honey, I didn't make this decision lightly. It's for your future. You'll make new friends, and have new experiences. Please try to understand.”

Claire's gaze remains fixed on the passing scenery, her umbrage simmering beneath her rebellious exterior. “You simply don't get it, Dad,” she says resentfully as the view keeps changing dramatically into a more rural area. “You don't know what it's like to be uprooted from everything familiar, to start over in some stuffy boarding school.”

Her father's voice softens, laced with a tinge of sadness. “I know it's hard, honey,” he admits sincerely. “But sometimes, we must make sacrifices for the greater good. Trust me, I only want what's best for you.”

Claire's anger doesn’t wane, even though she is tempted to soothe at her dad’s words. “Change can be scary, but it also opens doors to new opportunities.” he continues, tenderly. “You're strong, Claire. You'll adapt, and who knows, you might find something incredible out here.”

Her gaze shifts from the passing greenery outside to her father's warm and understanding eyes. She takes a deep breath, slowly releasing the pent-up frustration. There was no point discussing this with him, he would never back up on his word. And the truth was, ever since he got together with that Malibu Barbie wannabe called Blanche, this was destinate to happen. She had waited for the rug to be pulled from under her feet as her distrust in life itself was a rooted injustice carved deep in her heart, but now that it happened, she tried desperately to hold onto a shimmer of hope.

And how tricky it was to expect, to wait for someone else to take the reins of one’s life... No one would come and save her, that was clear. So why not save herself?

“Sure thing, Dad.” Claire mumbles resigned. At least for now.

A bittersweet silence fills the car as they continue their journey, both aware that this new chapter holds challenges and possibilities that neither can fully anticipate. The beginning of a plan to escape the boarding school, however, started to thread like a lightning bolt in the girl’s mind.

She would make sure no one would see it coming. And one thing was certain, Claire Deschamps would never settle into a life in the middle of nowhere, nor a life she hadn’t chosen herself.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Claire steps out of her father's car, her jeans bomber jacket with wide shoulders and lots of sewn trinkets contrasting greatly with the more conservative uniforms of the other students passing by. Their plaid skirts had at least two full hands more fabric compared to the black leather one she used.

She takes a deep breath, bracing herself for what lies ahead. Mr. Deschamps opens the trunk, retrieving her suitcase and opening space for two employees to try and lift the big chest full of stickers that also belonged to Claire.

“Here you go, honey.” He hands the lush green suitcase to her. “I hope you find… Some great things here.”

She takes it, grudgingly. “Don’t be so disappointed when I don’t.”

Her father shows a sympathetic smile on his face as he pauses to take in what she had just said. “I understand, Claire.” He opts to say. “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Claire nods, unable to hide her lingering resentment. Her father gives her a last reassuring smile before driving away.

As she sees the Rolls-Royce disappearing on the dirty road, the Headmistress Winters, a stern and composed woman in her fifties whom she had already seen printed on the flyer advertising the school, approaches Claire with an air of authority. The disapproving expression that she wears only exacerbates Claire’s dislike for her furthermore.

“You must be Miss Deschamps, our newest student,” the woman says, inspecting her closer. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

To that, Claire rolls her eyes discreetly, her guard already up. “Oh, joy,” she mutters under her breath.

Putting on a polite facade, the Headmistress takes a step further, “As you know, I am Headmistress Winters. Your father and I talked on the phone. Welcome to St. Victoria’s Academy. Here we expect our students to uphold the highest standards of discipline and academic excellence.” She waves her hand in a high class and fluid motion, introducing the grand structure of the school behind her.

There is a moment of silence as Claire fights the urge to scoff, her skepticism apparent.

“Sounds like a real party,” she mutters dryly under her breath.

Headmistress Winters's eyes narrow not catching what the girl has to say, however, judging by the lack of excitement on Claire’s part and her many years of experience when it came to building character, she maintains her composed demeanor. She knows a troublemaker when she sees one.

With thinly veiled annoyance she adds firmly, “Respect and compliance are expected from all students, Claire. You'll find that St. Victoria’s Academy offers numerous opportunities for personal development and camaraderie. I suggest you keep an open mind.”

Claire's expression remains guarded, her disdain for the headmistress palpable the more words fell from her mouth. Her tone is pure cynicism as she answers. “Sure, Mrs. Winters. I'll keep an open mind while I'm here.”

Begrudgingly, she follows the older woman through the school's grand entrance, the imposing architecture and hushed conversations heightening her unease.

The Hall of Entrance in the all-girls boarding school exudes an air of elegance and tradition. Polished marble floors stretch out beneath the students' feet, reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers that hang overhead. Tall, arched windows line the walls, allowing sunlight to filter in and cast a warm, inviting glow on the surroundings.

As Claire steps into the hall after the Headmistress, she is greeted by a flurry of activity. Girls in crisp uniforms pass by more eagerly than the ones she saw outside, their eyes darting to and fro, their hushed whispers carrying snippets of gossip. The hall becomes a stage for both fellowship and rivalry, as cliques form and dissolve with each passing moment.

The sound of clicking heels and rustling skirts mingles with the gentle murmur of conversation, creating a symphony of feminine energy. Some girls walk with confidence, their heads held high, while others seem more reserved, their eyes darting nervously as they try to find their place within the social hierarchy.

Portraits of past headmistresses and notable alumnae adorn the walls, their stern gazes reminding the students of the institution's legacy and the high expectations placed upon them. Some peak Claire’s attention. One of the spaces in particular, the one dedicated to the sports league, shows boys’ teams and trophies they earned against them, but she can’t find the right moment to ask what it is about as Mrs. Winters walks like a thunderstorm.

The aroma of freshly polished wood and the faint hint of perfume linger in the air making her curiosity calmly dissipate, creating an atmosphere that is both refined and pansy.

A grand staircase, its banisters intricately carved, leads to the upper levels of the school. It serves as a focal point, drawing the eyes of the girls as they ascend and descend, their interactions playing out on the stage of the hall.

Claire becomes acutely aware of the watchful eyes as she makes her way through the bustling crowd, trailing the steps of Mrs. Winters. Some girls shoot her curious glances, sizing her up and speculating about the newcomer. Whispers trail in her wake, snippets of conversation filled with intrigue and speculation.

Mrs. Winters then suddenly turns to face her once more, revealing behind her shoulder line a girl who matches Claire’s height, with bangs and a cascade of hazel hair. The girl’s warm and open expression contrasts greatly with Claire’s defensive demeanor.

Noticing Claire’s disinterest, Mrs. Winters starts, “Let me introduce you to your new roommate, Claire. She’ll help you settle in.”

Extending her hand politely and rather excitedly, the girl before her greets, “Hi! I'm Ella. It’s really nice to meet you!”

Claire reluctantly shakes Ella's hand, her guard still up. Frustrated by the already lack of choice on her end she mumbles, “Yeah, hi.”

Headmistress Winters nods curtly, signaling the end of their interaction. “Miss Dubois, why don’t you show Claire to your dormitory and explain how things work around here? I was in the middle of a rather urgent matter when she arrived...”

Without missing a beat, Ella promptly nods, understanding the task at hand. “Sure thing, Headmistress. Follow me, roomie!”

The newfound nickname makes Claire hiss internally like a cornered cat, but she plays the part, thankful to finally get herself rid of the Headmistress's presence.

Before the two of them can walk further away, Mrs. Winters dismissively points again, “Very well, off you go. Make sure you familiarize yourself with the rules and expectations of this institution, Miss Deschamps.”

Claire raises an eyebrow, her rebellious spirit flickering to life. “I'll keep that in mind, Headmistress,” she replies defiantly, turning her back to the woman.

Leaving the bustling hall and the scrutinizing eyes of the older woman, Claire turns to Ella, a sense of complicity forming between them as she notices how much more relaxed her new guide seems to be.

Smiling, Ella reassures her. “I promise this is not all as daunting as it seems.” Claire takes a deep breath, her apprehension giving way to a glimmer of hope. She follows Ella, ready to navigate the challenges of this new environment, determined to find her place amidst the rules and expectations she so vehemently resents. Who knows?, she thinks, maybe her new roommate can give her an escape route without even noticing. She could be escaping St. Victoria’s much earlier than she had predicted.

━━━━━━━━━ ✦

Claire wasn’t convinced if Ella had what it takes to be her newfound ally. The headmistress seemed to trust her enough which made her either valuable to the plan or a stone in her shoe. Although Claire was pending more to the former since the girl seemed very friendly as they kept a light conversation and she led the way through the bustling hallways. More often than not, the veteran would gush about her own friends as she vibrantly pointed to Claire how their day-to-day was, and for moments, more than to seek intel to architect her plan, the brunette found herself momentarily forgetting about her purpose as she got infected by Ella’s contagious energy.

Their footsteps echo softly as they step onto the serene patio, where blooming flowers and neatly trimmed hedges create a serene oasis within the school grounds. The sound of laughter and animated conversations drifts through the air as girls gather in small groups, enjoying moments of respite and fellowship.

Claire’s eyes scan the scenery, and they get caught in the ruckus three girls are making right by the center fountain of the patio. The one standing in the middle, a blonde with a high ballerina bun, dances excitedly as she flashes a knitted scarf to her peers. “You think JK will like it?” Her voice travels through the open space as she points specifically to the initials engraved in it.

Noticing Claire’s mind is far away from whatever she is saying, Ella leans closer, whispering, “That’s Vivienne for you,” she chuckles as Claire’s glance shifts quickly back, “Everyone calls her Vivi and you’ll soon hate her too, trust me.”

To that statement, Claire’s eyes return inquiring to Ella’s, her nose scrunching in doubt.

“You see, she delusionally believes she and some trouble boy are meant to be. We’re all tired to hear about it, or witness moments like this.” Ella points with her head to the blonde once more. “There she goes, making him a scarf he won’t probably use. Tell me about waste of time!”

Claire mildly snorts entertained, looking at the scene as well. “Poor girl.”

“Oh, believe me!” Ella exhales, walking away and her roommate follows, “That one is nothing of the sort. Imagine Regina George in real life. That’s her, right there.”

In a lack of response from the brunette, Ella gestures towards a row of benches shaded by a grand oak tree. ”Anyways, this is our patio, Claire. It's the perfect spot to relax and soak up some sunshine during breaks. And see over there? That's the canteen.”

The delicious aroma of freshly cooked meals fills the air as soon as they step closer to the precinct. Girls line up at the serving counter, chatting and exchanging stories as they eagerly await their turn. The room is alive with vibrant colors, with posters and artwork adorning the walls, adding a touch of creativity to the space.

“We refuel here, obviously.” Ella glances excited to see Claire’s reaction. “The food is surprisingly good, and there's always a variety of options to choose from… Well. When the boys don’t join, that is. They can be savages.” she chuckles nonchalantly.

Suddenly Claire’s eyes perk with curiosity. Every bit of information she had gathered about the school before arriving said this was an all-girls academy, but then again, there were existent photos of boys displayed in the hall. Not to say Vivienne’s parade a second ago. Do they have a day off?, she muses, Could this be an opportunity? “What do you mean boys? Isn’t this an all-girls school?” she voices her thoughts as Ella takes the lead again, taking her on another stroll.

The energetic roommate greets some girls that pass by them with a sympathetic smile before returning her focus to the newcomer beside her.

“Well, yeah. The Alarie boarding school for boys is right across the river, and we often have classes together. You know, lack of teachers in the far countryside.” she shrugs.

Before she can inquire further, Ella is already distracted, smiling at the passersby.

“With Jimin? Again?! God, what’s her secret!” They hear a girl gasp to a friend as they crossways.

Oh. I see..., Claire’s thoughts put the pieces together. She quickly looks at the hazel-haired girl making her company.

By the raise of eyebrows that she gives her and the flicker of frolic that flashes in her eyes, Ella is quick to warn, “It’s strictly forbidden to hang out with them boys, Claire. No smogging. No funny hands.”

“But she just-” Claire refuted pointing behind her shoulders to the girl that passed by sharing her indignation a bit too loudly.

Ella gave her a warning yet laid-back glance, “Alright, people go on with it in secret but as you can see, nothing is really a secret around here. And then when you least expect it, bam! You’re in trouble!”

“Are they at least hot? Or I don’t know... Worth the trouble?”

Ella thinks for a second and then shrugs with a naivety Claire knows to be fake, “How would I know?”

“If you say so!” Claire pretends to salute dramatically, a bickering well read by the other as to the current square state the Academy insisted on following rules. And so, Ella pulls her to a quick jog entertained, and a bit tempted to show her new roommate she also knew how to break a few of them. Even if the rules she was breaking weren’t as grand as Claire deemed them to be. The students passing by confirmed the thought as they judged their behavior, and Claire laughed even louder at their tedious conformism. The rule about not running in the hallways was true indeed.

As they arrive at their shared dormitory, their footsteps grow softer as they enter the hushed ambiance of the living quarters. The dormitory is a cozy space adorned with tasteful decorations, featuring two neatly made beds, desks adorned with books and personal touches, and small corkboards for photos and reminders.

Ella jumps to sit on her own bed, bouncing on the mattress as she does so. “And here we are,” she gestures. “Our humble abode. It may not be the biggest, but it's home.”

Claire looks around the room, a hint of curiosity dancing in her eyes as she imagines the memories that will unfold within these walls, even if for brief moments. Ella seems a nice girl, but she won’t be around to discover much more about her. She needs to escape this. Her real friends await in the big city.

“Yeah, it's not bad…”

Ella grins with the comment, her warmth shining through.

“We'll make it cozy, you’ll see,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, you still have to meet my girls! They are rooming right in front of us. It’s great to share stuff and to keep gossip in day!” She laughs at her own behavior.

As Claire sets her suitcase down and begins to unpack, a bit aloof to her roommate’s words, a newfound sense of optimism fills the room. To Ella is the beginning of a new friendship, even if her roommate was a hard one to crack. But she was patient, everyone had their personal time after all. To Claire, it is a journey through a path she had never charted before, but her father was right about one thing---she is strong. And she will prevail.

“We’ll meet them in a few!” Ella continues, snapping Claire out of her thoughts, “They went to pick up your uniforms for you.”

Claire eyes her with gratitude, showing for the first time a smile, even if timid, and her roommate mimicked the action. Only hers was as big as her enthusiasm for finally having a friend to share her bedroom with.

Still sitting by her bed, Ella watches as Claire takes only her toiletries out of her green suitcase, as well as a portrait of her and what the girl gathered to be her mom. The tall wild child discards the pouch with her cosmetics by the bed, as she walks toward the bedside table, closely placed to the window, adjusting the portrait on top of it. Her clothes, still inside the suitcase, didn’t seem important and were left forgotten still inside it, untouched. Or so Ella thought so.

“Your mom is beautiful,” she comments gently, looking at how Claire’s eyes seem to hover with longing at the picture.

The brunette opens a small smile, thanking her roommate almost in a whisper, eyes still glued to the image of her mom. How she missed her.

And then suddenly a loud pang interrupts the moment, making her jump and Ella scream. Startled by the sudden impact of a ball against her bedroom window, she had fallen back onto her bed, her heart racing. She swiftly rises and storms towards the window again, fueled by annoyance and ready to unleash her frustration on the culprit responsible.

Seething with anger, Claire flings open the window of her dorm room on the second floor, ready to give the culprit a piece of her mind. Ella knees on her bed to look at the indicted herself. “Shit.” She manages to say.

Claire’s words, however, catch in her throat as she locks eyes with a boy she has never seen before, and taking by Ella’s reaction beside her, it was clear that wasn’t her case, her roommate knew him.

His mischievous grin and charismatic presence immediately captivate her, and a flicker of curiosity replaces her initial anger. Still, she stands her ground and through gritted teeth, she lashes, “What's your problem?!”

Both girls watch as he brings casually one of his hands to shield his eyes from the sun, his smile gleaming with amusement.

“Oh, I apologize, princess,” he says charmingly. “You weren’t supposed to-” he trails off, “Well, I wasn’t looking to make an impression on you but now…” he considers, his smile doubling the size.

Claire tries to maintain her composure, but there's an undeniable pull towards the Alarie’s boy that she can't ignore.

“Impression?” She scoffs slightly flustered, “If it’s at being stupid, you've certainly succeeded. Who are you anyway?”

The boy takes a step closer toward the shade of the tall building to see her better, a playful glint in his eyes as he keeps looking up chuckling at her response.

With a smirk, he replies. “You didn’t hear of me? I'm Jungkook,” he says as if it explains a lot, with a smugness that makes Claire crazy to punch out of his face. “I go to the Alarie’s, right next door.”

“JK!” another boy shouts from a distance, and Claire’s eyes travel to the field to meet the face of Jungkook’s peer. A group of boys is joyfully hanging out there, waiting for him.

As her eyes turn back to him, standing beneath her window, with a raised eyebrow, Jungkook says with yet another chuckle, “You never told me your name.”

She sneers, “And I won’t.”

Despite her refusal, Claire can't help but feel a certain curiosity pull toward Jungkook. His confidence and charm leave her intrigued, even if she tries to deny it or finds it too brazen.

Jungkook sends another intrigued look her way, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Don't worry, princess. I’ll find it soon enough.” that answer only makes her blood boil further. “Besides, life's too short to be boring, don't you think? I like the mystery.” He shrugs with a smile, picking the rugby ball that was fallen by his feet, and starting to walk back. He turns once again to see her reaction, raising his voice as he adds, “And tell your rat roommate that the next one is meant for her!” He lifts the ball in his hand as if he raised a toast.

“I'm not fucking interested in your idea of excitement, Jungkook. Save your charm for someone else!” She shouts defiantly but he only laughs in response, now fully turning his back and jogging swiftly toward his friends.

She can't help but watch his back and carefree stance, even if Ella’s presence is made heard by her side. Under rushed and muted curses, the girl gets up from the bed, initiating an anxious breakdown as she paced back and forth inside their bedroom.

Claire’s gaze finally moves away from the window to fall upon her roommate’s state. “Not that it’s any of my business, but... You wanna talk about it?” she asks, gaining no response apart from a full stop on the pacing and Ella’s hands coming to a desperate grip on her own locks.

“Ella!” Claire calls her, closing the distance between them, “Hey, what’s going on?” The change of attitude of the girl was so brusque from her previous joyful self that it got her worried.

She gently touched her shoulder, and Ella’s eyes finally found her own. “I’m totally, completely, fucked.” She confesses finally.

“What happened? Is it about this Jungkook guy?”

The hazel-haired girl gives her a nod and Claire’s eyebrows knit together. She manages to inhale, ready to question further but they are interrupted by the cheerful tinkle of shoes and greetings.

“We got it!” It’s what she hears as she looks at the door to their room that had been left open. Two girls enter the space, both shorter than Ella and her. They look excited, probably having fun on the way there.

“Hi! You must be the new girl,” The shortest one says, giving her a cordial smile. She has her long honey-blonde hair held back by a bow. “I’m Lola, this is Avery...”

“And this is your uniforms!” While Lola has a royal aura to her, somewhat restrained and charismatic, Avery seems more upfront and girly. Her hair is like coal and so glossy that it shines hues of dark blue in the light.

Taking the folded clothes from her hands with a smile of her own, Claire introduces herself. “Thank you, I’m Claire. And you really didn’t have to do it-”

“It’s totally fine, we wanted to!” Lola insists bubbly, waving off, and the brunette smiles thankful.

The blonde walks her way toward Ella’s bed, familiar enough to sit on it as she grabs a pillow to hug as she did so.

“Girls. He knows.” To Claire’s relief, Ella finally enters the conversation. “I hate myself!” She adds, grunting.

She notices how the other two react fervently to the comment as she places the pile of uniforms on top of her bed, ceasing to be the focus of their attention. They look at Ella with staring eyes, clearly on topic but still indignant about the rest of the information that still doesn’t come.

“What do you mean he knows?!” Avery is the first to question. “How would he know? There were no boys in class that day...”

To which Lola quickly made a comment with a nudge at her waist, “I told you there was! Louis, remember?”

At the same time, Ella explained. “Now Jungkook sent a stupid ball flying up the window on purpose. After my head of course!”

While Claire looked from one to another trying to unveil the situation, both Avery and Lola unleashed a series of wroth exclamations, to what Ella took part in instead of actually providing a clearer explanation.

“I’m sorry.” Claire interrupted. “But can someone situate me here? What does this Jungkook know? And why is it a big deal? I’m lost.” She had a notion she was being brazen as she wasn’t close to the three friends before her, but not a couple minutes before she had witnessed a boy sending a warning in the shape of a rugby ball to her roommate. If this was to continue while she stayed there, she needed to know at least the basics.

Avery and Lola look from her to Ella apprehensively waiting. So this is mildly important, she thinks. And then the latter sighs.

“I wasn’t completely honest with you about the boys’ part...”

To that statement, Claire slowly realizes that there may be more to this school than meets the eye, and consequently, more that she needs to unravel to make her flight seem a mystery. Glancing out of the window, Alerie’s boarding school for boys is starting to feel like a needed pit stop, as it stands tall between St. Victoria’s building and her much-wanted freedom.

✦ TAGLIST.

send an ask in if you want to be part of it or comment down below.

132 notes · View notes

goosewriting · 2 years

Text

You, me and the apocalypse (rottmnt Leo x reader)

summary: after Cassandra’s death, you’re left with a kid to take care of

relationship: future Rise!Leo x GN reader (established)

warnings: mentions of character deaths (yes plural), lots of angst, mainly just internal monologue really, comfort at the end

word count: 2320

A/N: i have no idea what made me write this lmao but i guess i wanted to explore a bit how Leo and reader would feel about taking in Casey. maybe this has a potential for a part 2? 🤔

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

You stood in front of Cassandra’s improvised gravestone that you had just placed. It was more of a decently shaped piece of debris, really. Donnie had helped you carve her name and the date on it, followed by a “Mother, Friend and Badass Fighter”.

With the back of your sleeve you wiped away the sweat on your forehead which had accumulated from digging. Turning around your hand to get a dry part of the sleeve, you continued to wipe your face, but this time it was the tears running down your cheeks.

Cassandra had joined you, April and the turtles a couple of years after the invasion started. Up to that point you had no idea she even was alive. And to everyone’s surprise, she wasn’t alone: she had a kid. Casey Jr must have been around 7 years old when you met him. At first he was very shy but soon he opened up and you were intrigued by this little human, so full of life. It was such a contrast to everything around you.

There weren’t many kids around in the apocalypse, but every time you looked at Casey Jr you were reminded that there was still a reason worth fighting for; the next generation. You refused to believe that this was the end of humankind and Earth as you knew it.

In fact, it was only after Cassandra and her kid joined the rebellion that Leo started to use the phrase “Hope: a ninja’s greatest weapon”. So you knew he felt the same way about wanting to fight for those who will come after you. You talked about it with him quite often actually, making plans to take over Krang posts and stations until late into the night. And now one of your best fighters was gone, just like that.

You were quietly sniffling to yourself, processing everything, when you felt a gentle yet firm grip on your shoulder. Knowing who it was, you let the shovel you used on the makeshift gravestone fall from your hands to the ground and turned around to embrace Leo in a much needed hug. He placed his chin on your head and softly stroked your back in soothing circles.

He had gotten quite tall and big, so you couldn’t hug all the way around his shell like you used to. But being in his arms like this made you feel even safer than before, since your form was smaller than it used to in comparison. Oh how you missed the good old carefree days, when your worries consisted mostly of New York housing prices and finding good pizza for your turtle friends, and you didn’t have to think about surviving an alien invasion.

Somewhere in the far depths of your brain you heard the tiniest voice whisper to you. Lately, especially when things got very bad, it seemed to be a returning thought. It’s Leo’s fault, it taunted you. If he hadn’t lost the key to the Foot that day and listened to Raph, this wouldn't have happened.

You shook your head and smothered your cheek even tighter against Leo’s plastron. In your mind you imagined yourself catching this tiny thought, scurrying around like a bug, stuffing it into a jar you closed very tightly, and buried into the darkest, most far-off cabinet, drawer, or pile of repressed feelings you could find, hoping it would asphyxiate and perish once and for all. You hated yourself for thinking that he was to blame somehow, and you hated even more that you couldn’t get rid of that thought.

The first time it had crossed your mind was when you lost Raph. Every time you remembered how the red turtle would say he was the biggest brother so he had to protect his family, and how that was the very reason he died, your chest tightened with a stinging pain.

And now Cassandra was gone too, also protecting that which she loved most; her child. And in the process leaving him behind.

You pulled back slightly to look at Leo. He gave you a soft smile, as if to say “It will be okay, we’ll figure it out”. But in his eyes you could also see the pain. At least he seemed to be handling this loss far better than last time.

Raph’s death had shaken all of you to the core, but Leo did not know not know how to handle the grief. Thinking all of the responsibility (keeping you guys alive, leading the rebellion, defeating the Krang) now fell onto him, he never really gave himself the time to mourn his brother.

And then Splinter was gone. Leo started to shut out everyone. He didn’t just have a shell on his back, but also around his heart. Starting to leave you out of it as well in the process. Your turtle was becoming but a husk of whom he once was. It broke you seeing him like that, so you decided to finally confront him about it. You had to basically tie him down for that because he was clearly dealing with everything by not dealing with it. By then it had already been several months since Splinter’s passing. When he finally allowed himself to feel and process what had happened, you stayed awake with him the whole night, held him, as he sobbed and screamed into your lap.

April, Donnie and Mikey went through their grief in their own way, and you tried to support them to the best of your abilities. You smiled bitterly to yourself at the irony of how sometimes it is horrible things that knit people closer together.

And now here you stood, still in Leo’s arms, your gaze shifting past him to the boy standing a couple steps behind the turtle, hugging the skull-like mask that his mother used to wear. He was only 9 years old, born into a world of chaos and despair. His biological father wasn’t in the picture; in fact you didn’t even know who it was, but it didn’t matter. You had become a bit of an aunty/uncle figure to him, while Leo was more of a father figure really. Casey Jr (or rather just Casey, you internally corrected yourself, as he’s the only Casey left), had always called him “Master Leonardo”. If younger Leo had heard that, his ego surely would have been through the roof. But the title was now humbling, reminding Leo of the responsibility he had for those that looked up to him. Not that he owed them anything. This wasn’t about boasting or showing off anymore; it was about being the best version of himself he could be, to live without “what if”s and “if only”s.

You let go of Leo and approached Casey, who was trying and failing to hold back his sobs. You crouched down, with one knee on the ground, to be on his eye-level. You stroked over his cheek, wiping away some tears with your thumb.

“It’s okay to cry” you spoke softly, trying not to cry yourself. “It’s okay to be sad, and scared. But remember you’re not alone, Casey. We’re here and we will take care of you, okay?” Your voice almost cracked at the end. You were trying really hard to choose the right words. How do you comfort a child in this situation?

Leo approached you both and stood next to you, also crouching down, and placed his hand carefully on Casey’s other shoulder. The boy clutched the mask even tighter, and started wailing. His sobs and cries filled the evening air, while Leo and you hugged him between you both, hoping to get the broken pieces back into place for this kid, who had a huge personality like his mother, and was always bright and optimistic. And in that very moment, even though he wasn’t your own son, you hoped with all your heart that you could be there with him and for him, and see him grow into the man you knew Leo would guide him to be.

— — —

That night Casey slept with Mikey. He was exhausted, so he fell asleep pretty quickly. Everyone said their good night’s and you headed to yours and Leo’s shared tent. He was sat outside of it, looking at the red mask tied to the handle of his sword. As you approached, Leo slid the weapon back into its sheath and placed it aside.

You helped him take off his prosthetic arm and also gently placed it to the side. With his other hand he massaged the nub and sighed; his arm was cut off just above where the elbow would be.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, sitting down next to him. Your eyes went over the view before you. In the distance you could see the Technodrome, with lights and explosions going off around it. The sound was faint since you were pretty far away, but ever-present. You leaned your head onto his good shoulder, to which he wrapped his arm around you.

“I’m holding up. What about you?” he replied, looking down at your tired eyes. Turning your face to look up at him, you took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out in a sigh.

“Worried, mostly. For the kid.”

“He’ll be fine. He’ll learn, just like we did.”

At that you silently scoffed. He gave you a questioning look.

“It shouldn't be like this”, you started. “It never should have been like this. Kids should be in school, pranking their siblings, having snowball fights and throwing tantrums because they don’t want to nap. They shouldn't be seeing all of… this” you gestured to the alien battleship in the distance. “around them, learning that this is ‘normal’.”

“You know I agree with you.” Leo said, removing his hand from around you to bring it up to your face. He gently stroked your cheek with his knuckles, over your temple and ended up fully cupping your cheek. You saw his other arm slightly shift forward; you weren’t sure if it was for balance or because he meant to hold your face with both hands, if he still had them. “But there’s nothing we can do now. You know I wish we had a second chance at all of this. Of course there’s things I wish I had done differently, but stressing over it won’t bring me or you anywhere. The only thing we can do is look into the future and try to make the best of it.”

You placed your hand over his at your cheek, and leaned into his touch. “I know…” you muttered.

“Besides” he added and guided you to sit on his lap, straddling him. “There actually is something good in all of this. One of my biggest wishes did come true, even though not exactly how I pictured it.”

You placed your arms around his shoulders and looked curiously at him. “And what is that?” you asked, to which he smirked.

“I wanted to have you by my side, and form a family of our own. I was thinking more along the lines of a dog, maybe a parrot, or a couple of cats, but I think a ‘sort of adopted’ kid also counts, don’t you think?” Leo looked at you full of love, snaking his arm around your waist.

His comment made you blush and a swarm of butterflies made itself noticeable at the pit of your stomach. You loved that even though you had been together for so long and the world around was looking pretty bleak, he could still make you feel like you had a teenage crush on him. You were still head over heels for him, sure, but sometimes you missed the childish banter, comments and lame one-liners he used to be the champion of. He still did all of that, just not as much, and not in front of the others. And it was rare to get a peaceful one-on-one moment in the apocalypse.

“You were considering getting a parrot?” you questioned, tilting your head.

“That’s the part you decided to focus on?” he laughed, but he could tell you were teasing him; your smile and rosy cheeks betrayed you.

You cupped his face. “The apocalypse would suck so much without you” you told him and leaned forward to kiss him. He reciprocated and held you tighter to his chest. You tilted your head lightly to deepen the kiss and tangled your hands into the blue strands of his bandana. The need for air made you break the kiss and you rested your forehead against his, both of you lightly panting.

A cold breeze blew over you, making you shiver. You both took this as a sign to get to bed. You climbed off of Leo and made your way into the tent. You took off your jacket and jeans, folded and carefully placed them to the side. Then you nestled into Leo’s chest, both lying facing each other. You used his injured arm as a pillow, and he pulled you close with his other arm. Under the covers you tangled your legs together.

You yawned and placed a kiss on his neck. In turn he kissed the top of your head, mumbling a “G’night” into your hair.

Your mind replayed several moments of the day, trying to drift off into sleep. You decided to skip the not so nice ones, ending up in the conversation you had earlier with Leo. Just as you were softly rolling into dreamland, his words echoed through your head: “I wish we had a second chance at this”. Maybe you could find a way. But that was a problem to solve tomorrow. Right now you simply enjoyed being in Leo’s arms, listening to his steady breathing. That night you dreamt of New York pizza, Cassandra, and a parrot.

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt x reader

469 notes · View notes

winniethewife · 3 months

Text

My hand was the one you reached for (Cassian Andor X reader)

Warnings: angst, canon character death,

Words:440

“Cassian! Please don’t do this. This is a suicide mission.” She had managed to catch up to him after nearly chasing him across the base.

“I have to, the Rebellion needs me!” He says with an exasperated simile on his face. “It’ll be fine.”

“What about me, I need you, there’s no way you’re going to get the plans for that thing and survive!” She was desperate for him to hear her. to give the job to another unlucky guy, but she knows he won’t.

“Always remember us, always remember this.” Cassian takes her hands in his and squeezes them tightly. His chocolate brown eyes looking into hers, full of love and hope.

“I vowed not to cry anymore, not after everything” She says softly as she feels the sting of tears in her eyes.

“Shh…we just have to have hope. Fight for a better future.” Cassian reminds her. he presses a kiss to her knuckles. “Remember when you said I have to trust more freely? Can you trust me to come home to you?” She laughs and shakes her head at him.

“You were playin' with fire, still are as far as I can tell.” She mutters. “Fine, but you better come home.” She sighs. Cassian pulls her in for a tight embrace.

“We’re going to win this darling. I know it.” Cassian smiles at her.

“I hope so.” She chuckles.

“I know so.” He said lovingly.

When she found out what happened on Scarif She was devastated, but she fought harder than ever over the next several years. With hard work and determination, they did win. She stood on the surface of Endor as the sky lit up with fire. But her hands felt empty, without his hand in hers. One day like many before she went to the memorial of the fallen Rebels on Coruscant, it was the closest place to a grave site she had to visit. She sat on one of the benches. She looked up to the sky.

“Cassian…I can’t Believe it’s been 5 years since…Since I lost you. You have no idea how much I miss you. I thought the worst was over, but these days filled with nothing, with keeping the peace and governing? I almost miss the war. Mostly I miss you. I know you’d want me to move on with my life, but…It feels impossible, I vowed I would always be yours, I can’t see myself with anyone else. I can’t.” She spoke to nothing, but for a brief moment she feels the breeze move around her, a familiar warmth, a gentle embrace. Then the feeling passes. She smiled.

Series Masterlist

#fanfiction #fan fiction #reader insert #self insert #taylor swift #Spotify #midnights #the great war #starwars #star wars #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor #rouge one #star wars fan fic #Diego Luna #andor #diego luna x reader #Diego Luna fan fic

25 notes · View notes

ryuzakemo128 · 1 month

Note

Björn Ironside x reader : "I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you."

Please and thank you💙

I hope you like this and fits with what you might want.

Tarnished and Unveiled Intentions

Pairing: Bjorn Ironside x reader

Genre: Angst

Requested? Yes

Prompt: "I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you."

Content Warning: Possible mention of death, illness, disorders and disease. If any of these topics trigger or make you feel a certain way. I urge you to click off and preserve your mental health. As it's important to care for your mental health as well as your physical health.

You were unwell, bedridden for months, your fragile body refusing to move. Refused to obey. "[Y/N]" Bjorn said, his voice both harsh and commanding. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. It was as if he expected you to have told him about this before. As if he expected you to reveal everything to him when he wanted you to. Your lips curled into a snarl, a silent rebellion against him as your anger continued to boil beneath the surface, 'How can he assume he knows anything by demanding it when he wants it? You thought.

"I would have told you before, but I couldn't. I don't expect you to understand what I'm going through." You told him. Your voice was hoarse and strained. His entitlement, his entitled behaviour continued to annoy you. Even now.

You wanted to lash out, but your bones. Heavy as lead would not let you. You wanted to shout at him. But you couldn't find the words, they got caught on your tongue and stuck in your throat. The words between you and him remained unspoken.

His assumption that you would be fine this winter, that you would be able to go out there without any possible injury or illness. His presumption almost killed you, his presumptuous behaviour made you sick and injured. Sometimes almost dead.

His words, his tone, his expectations, his assumptions, they were all so disrespectful. He never once considered your feelings, your safety, your well-being. He treated you as if you were nothing more than a tool at his disposal, something to be taken for granted, something to be discarded when it no longer served his purpose. At least that was how you felt, and how you assumed he felt about you.

But that was not who you were. You were not just a servant or a housekeeper. You were a person with feelings, with a life of your own, with dreams and aspirations. And you deserved to be treated with respect and dignity. This relationship was a sinking ship, and you didn't want to stay on it. Not for another second, not for another day, and certainly not for the rest of your life. It was time to jump ship, to swim to safety, to find your way back to the shore where you belonged. You owed it to yourself. To your future.

"I don't ask for your understanding, I don't ask for your trust either and quite frankly I do not want either one from you." You said to him. A bitter taste remaining on the tip of your tongue.

He didn't protest, didn't argue and he just left you there. Alone. Both bedridden and close to death.

Link: [Divider]

Link: [Header]

Links: [Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02]

Link: [Vikings Masterlist/ Prompt List]

#Vikings Series #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #vikings drabble #Bjorn Ironside x reader #Bjorn Ironside x you #vikings bjorn

17 notes · View notes

jacksoldsideblog · 5 months

Note

can you talk a bit more about the self destruction aspect of fight club?

Yeah sure!

Fight club hits this interesting destructive nexus of nihilism, anarchy, marxist alienation, anti consumerism, and male sociology.

Starting with the marxist alienation bit; the fundamental underpinning of the novel is essentially that the narrator's job and society has driven him insane. He is part of a machine that trades human lives for inconsequential profit. His job is supposed to be about protecting people but instead it's about damning them. All his coworkers seem fine with this. He is getting away with it. His company is getting away with it. He is firmly aware of just how much his job and other jobs like his are accepted and accomadated for. He has no control over himself as a cog in the system. He knows he cannot actually stop what's occuring. He would just be replaced. The company would get away with it in the end. Ford Pinto. Etc.

This is inherently distressing. People don't naturally wish to do that. He sees no fruit of his labor beyond enabling death.

This alienation is common, and consumerism is given as a balm for all the post-industrial foie gras in the making in industrialized countries. Don't worry, all that angst and discomfort can be solved by buying things. Buy things. It will make you feel better. Buy things. It'll make you a better person. Buy things. It's a measure of success.

Nevermind that you're a feedlot for corporate profit.

This, too, chafes at the end of the day. Frankly, it develops this hate for the world that is like this, and for him, being a part of it. He finds everything including himself repulsive.

He, quite literally, can't sleep at night because of how fucked all of it is.

So what do you do? Honestly. How can you change it? Can you change it? Is it worth trying to fix?

It all feels meaningless. It feels pointless. It feels cruel.

In the 90s especially, there was a huge nihilistic push. I think it's important to consider ideological shifts like these in the framework of "how does this benefit the ruling class?"

nihilism has two thoughts on it, rejection and acceptance of nietzschian affirmation of life. do you reject and turn away from the world for its atrocities? do you embrace its horrors?

Fight Club, like most things, has a bit of both. Reject the world. Embrace the ugliness. Stew in your own shit.

But still, you still know it's all going on. You want to kill that corpse you're all rotting under.

Your reaction to this omnipresent pain of society is in very large part influenced by society itself. And society says, I'm indestructable. The shadow of history leans too large. You can't escape me.

And society teaches men, embrace destruction. Violence, war. Your ability to hurt is what makes you strong, full people. Your ability to destroy outweighs your ability to create — if you create, it's so you have absolute power to destroy.

So with abject hopelessness and a profound lack of creation instilled by society, he turns to destruction. Of himself, of society, of the burden of history.

He finds himself prone to anarchism, because his rebellion is based in the destruction of now and before, not the creation of a better future.

Even though, at heart, this is all a protest of the cruelty of this society against people, he finds himself unable to hate. Misanthropy, the easy drug, the one you are led to because it makes you far less effective at enacting change in society.

And misanthropy says hating people and especially yourself is good. Great even. And the rest of your burgeoning philosophy says, destroy. Destroy the past. Destroy now. Destroy your future.

So he goes and goes, until Tyler isn't real and he's about to blow up a building to destroy the burden of history, or blow up building to destroy credit scores, and he's kinda doing that martyr thing. Because he doesn't really have anything to live for, his idea of a future is vague and unrealistic. Because he's doing this to destroy.

But he stops it all.

And with the book, he realizes that we arent all simmering sacks of shit, not snowflakes either. We just are.

Misanthropy was useless. Destruction was useless.

Anyway, in my opinion it's just a very good ride of how these thought processes can interlock and feed each other to render your rebellion and anguish useless. Most of us won't try to bomb buildings of course, but this sort of mentality is actually extremely common. You see it a lot in environmentalism and climate change talk, which makes it so interesting to me that it's in the book too a bit. Again, that burden of history, that longing for destruction of unwanted responsibility.

It's a cautionary tale of sorts. Honestly I consider one of the biggest 'morals' of fight club to be; reject misanthropy. Don't hate thy neighbor. Try to build something.

The narrator isn't a cautionary tale against feeling that alienation and anger at society. It's just about, don't let it push you into making it worse. Don't lose sight of wanting something better.

#asks #fight club #what a ramble haha #i think you get the idea though

14 notes · View notes

heliads · 11 months

Note

Requesting a Clove x reader fic where the two have known each other since childhood! While Clove is an aspiring Tribute, the reader is from a super privileged District 2 family who’s exempt from the reapings, for some reason. (they were close allies with the capitol, ever since the first rebellion?? they train peacekeepers or make high-tech weapons?? Idk.) The reader always knew that Clove dreamed of participating in the games, and as her BFF (best friend-turned-girlfriend), she’s always supported her in her endeavors. Hell, her main motivation in learning hand to hand combat, even though she will never need to, is just so she can spar with Clove whenever Clove can’t train with anyone else. the reader probably still sucks though.

About a year before the 74th Game, the reader realizes just how close Clove is to being “ready.” And it scares her more than anything. She still tries to support Clove, and she still helps her practice occasionally, but she is clearly losing her enthusiasm each time Clove discusses or demonstrates her progress. Whether or not Clove has to convince her, the reader eventually spills out her fears for what will happen in the arena, verging on begging her not to volunteer next year. No matter how much she wants to trust Clove, she can’t fight down the dread that now shadows her 24/7. 23 enemies (especially the other Careers, they can’t be allies forever). Mutts. Bad weather. Dehydration, starvation, illness. There are too many things that can easily go wrong, so how could she possibly be okay with her best friend/girlfriend leaving?

This is of course an angst request, but here’s where you can decide if it stays that way! Does this become an AU where Clove later decides that she won’t volunteer, even if it means throwing so much away? The glory and her many years of preparation? The expectations of her peers, teachers, neighbors and family? (But that’s okay, the reader is willing to use her own family name to back her up if she has to.) Or is Clove just too far invested, and there’s no turning away from her life purpose? If that’s the case, then… the reader needs a big fucking hug, and she’ll be there to say goodbye before Clove leaves for the capitol.

just realized that this actually works as a prequel to my other clove request, which is dare i say iconic. also anon you must know that if you offer me a chance for angst i will never turn it down! !

masterlist

If someone were to listen to the gaping cavity in your chest, you think they’d hear the thud of a throwing knife against a target instead of regular heartbeats. It certainly feels like that, at least; you must have spent hours in the training room just today, and that’s not even mentioning every other day in your past and future.

That’s how it must be, though. Someone has to train until they’re as close to perfection as a human being can get. Someone has to be able to kill twenty-three other tributes until they’re the only one left standing. Someone must do all this, and that someone must be Clove.

The idea of prepping your girlfriend for the arena is somewhat morbid, but it’s not as if you truly had a choice in the matter. Clove made you swear to help her when you were small, and you’ve never been able to hold her in anything less than your word. If you really think about it, what you’re doing here is saving her, not damning her. By ensuring that Clove is as good as she could possibly be, you do all you can to keep her alive when she’s finally beyond your reach as a competitor.

Besides, it’s the least you can do. You won’t be in the Games, after all. Your name is not in the Reaping, nor has it been any of the other years you’ve technically been eligible. That’s the way it went for your father, and for his father before him. The Capitol does not like sparing any of the districts from the Hunger Games, but for a family they need in Two, certain exceptions were made.

The first lesson your family taught you was how to make yourself important. You should always have debts owed to you, favors that need to be paid off. That’s how you stay alive, how you stay out of trouble, and, most importantly of all, how you ensure that your name will never be called to participate in the Hunger Games.

In a place like District Two, where volunteers are commonplace, taking part in the Games is a source of pride. Lurking in the back of everyone’s mind, though, is the sickly truth that they’re not an honor but a chance to die. Sure, you could win it, and earn your family honor and respect, but you could lose the Games and have your life ended before you even saw twenty.

Your family knew that they needed to find a way to permanently stay out of the Reaping, so they played their cards right during the war and it paid off. Your family closely allied themselves with the right people in the Capitol, and so when the Hunger Games started, the leader of Panem made a rule that the names of anyone in your bloodline would never be called.

It was their only choice. Your family found a way to deeply involve themselves with the organization of the Peacekeepers. Without your relatives there to keep all of the branches interacting with each other in the best, most efficient way, the entire system would fall to pieces. There was a bit of dispute around that point when your grandfather was first running things, so he proved his points by stepping away. Nothing worked– the Peacekeepers in each district lost communication with each other and the Capitol in hours.

After that, they didn’t test you any longer, and your family was allowed to stay out of everything. It was an unspoken agreement that carried on no matter the leader of Panem, no matter the generation of your family. Your grandfather passed on the responsibility to your father, and you’ve been receiving the necessary training such that, when you finally come of age, you will be able to take it from him.

For the sake of pretense, all of you still entered your name on Reaping Day like everyone else, but the slips of paper would be removed before the ceremony began. That was to be expected, though. Divisions arise when people have a sense of inequality. If you want to stop the rebellions from arising, you reduce the visibility. You can’t grow outraged over unfair circumstances if you have no idea that the unfair circumstances exist at all.

To account for this, only the members of your family know that you’ll never enter the Reaping. You can play it off as good luck, and so long as you’re not obvious about it, no one will think twice about the fact that no L/N has ever entered the Hunger Games. Citizens are already distracted by the looming terror that one of their young ones could die within a month. No one’s tracking back your lineage to examine how many people you’ve lost.

You did tell one person, though. It couldn’t be helped. You and Clove tell each other anything anyway, how could you keep a secret like this? She made you swear to help her train years ago, but when the first year of Reaping eligibility finally started rolling around, Clove was confused as to why you weren’t training as vigorously as she was.

The answer you gave hesitantly, after consulting with various relatives to make sure you wouldn’t be damning most all of your loved ones. Clove took the news surprisingly well, actually. Maybe it’s because you were one fewer target that she had to take out. You were no longer a threat, which meant that you could instead be a friend. And then, later, you could be more. You could be someone she loved.

Loving her was inevitable. If you spend hours every day with another girl, if the two of you start sleeping over in each other’s rooms so as to not waste a single moment as the Games draw closer every year, if someone looked at you the way Clove did, of course you would fall. The falling was the easy part. Having to live with it was harder.

In the decades to come, you think you’ll look back on those years as the best of your life. Training always ramped up closer to the Games just in case; although Clove planned on volunteering when she was older so she’d have the best chance of a decisive victory, there was always the possibility that her name would be called before she was ready. Clove simply had to be prepared for anything, and so you cleared your schedule so you could help her out.

And so the days would pass, bleeding into weeks and months. You’d meet her at the District Two training center, or maybe the two of you would walk together. You learned combat for the sole purpose of being able to let her practice even better. You’d spot her while she was lifting weights, judge her form when she couldn’t watch her back, and do everything in your power to make sure she was going to win when the time came.

You have a thousand such memories stored in your head, of Clove throwing her first series of successive bullseyes and nearly tackling you to the ground from hugging you so hard; her exultant grin every time she could lift more, throw harder, do better; how she used to grab you around the waist with that mad laugh and tell you that she was going to do it all. You believed her, how could you not? How could you do anything but nod along, lost in her ferocity for life?

You loved her from the start, maybe. It was something you were born to do. You stood in her shadow and it did not darken your spirit, for it gave you the chance to watch her thrive and that would be enough for you, it always was. She was glorious. You were you. It had always felt uneven, but that was alright so long as you could just keep her.

The keeping her was the problem, though, as it would turn out. Clove wanted to volunteer, she always had. District Two raises golden tributes who can win better and faster than anyone else. Her end goal was always entering the Games so she could come out the other side with that title. It was her plan from day one, and you knew that, but somehow it still stunned you when she finally announced to you that it would be time to volunteer.

Your first reaction was disbelief. It was, of course, something that you were aware of the entire time, but it was wrong now. Clove volunteering was always something distant, an event that wouldn’t happen for years. It’s real now, though. It has always been real, but for once, you have to face it.

Selfishly, you had tried to talk Clove out of it, asking her not to volunteer. If her name was called, of course she would enter the Games anyway, but why put herself in unnecessary danger? You begged and pleaded, you asked her to stay out if not for her own life than for yours, but Clove just laughed and said you wouldn’t have to worry, because she would win. Of course she would win. There was no world in her mind in which she would die.

Still, you tried to persuade her otherwise. You still helped her train, but your enthusiasm flagged by the day. You were no longer protecting her from death, you were preparing her for her own demise. You encouraged this in her. You are to blame if– when– she dies. It will be her blood on your hands, and that will be something you will never be able to forget.

All of your attempts come to naught. The Reaping still comes, and although Clove has not promised you anything outright, you find it hard to believe that you’d be able to break through so many years of propaganda to make her realize that her life is worth more to you than her dying in the Games for glory that would only end up someone else’s. It doesn’t matter that you would put your family name on the line to keep her safe, this is what Clove wants, and you’ve known her long enough to recognize that it’s what she will get.

On Reaping Day, you find yourself lining up with the other District Two girls to learn who will become your tributes for the coming Games. You have never feared the Reaping; why would you, when you know for certainty that you and your family would always be safe? Now, though, your entire frame is wracked with terror. Either Clove’s name is called or she will put herself in. There is no way you win.

The designated representative from the Capitol takes to the stage, and then they reach their hand inside the glass vessel enclosing the names of all the eligible female contestants. The Capitol rep reads out a collection of syllables, and it is not Clove’s. You feel one wave of relief crash into you, and it takes everything in you to stay standing. That’s one possibility eliminated, at least.

You look over at Clove and you feel sick to your stomach, all confidence from before evaporating just as quickly as it came. She’s got that look in her eyes again, and you know what’s coming before she can form a single word. This is how it ends, then. This is how you lose her.

And then, at the very last moment, someone else could volunteer before Clove. The fate of the female tribute from District Two would only be decided because someone else was able to raise their voice faster than your girlfriend. It would be so easy for everyone to brush off the whole affair. It’s what they expect to see, after all. There’s a brilliant Career volunteering, and maybe it wasn’t Clove, but it’s still one of their own.

You, though? You were watching. It would be so simple if Clove just waited. It would have been just a half second’s pause, but it would be enough. No one would know. No one would have known but you. A thousand intricacies in one poorly timed breath, and Clove would stay alive. Easy as that.

But then Clove tugs the other girl down, shoves a hand over her mouth before she can scream, and yells that she will volunteer. This is not your imagination. This is not all the scenarios you can conjure up in your own head. Clove will never back down, and so despite your best attempts, you will never be able to escape this.

Clove is in the aisle before you know what’s going on. She’s marching towards the stage with that determined gaze she’s always worn so well. The Capitol citizen asks Clove her name and she answers, her hand is raised, the crowd cheers. You stare at her in horror, and she grins proudly. This is what she’s always wanted. You knew she would get it.

You find her afterwards. Tributes are allowed to say their goodbyes, and your family knows you enough to make room for you once they tell her to win. Your fingers find holds in her clothes, and you beg Clove to find some way out of this. Say it was a mistake. Say you said the wrong name, that you took the chance from another volunteer. Find some way to come back to me.

Clove would never listen. It’s all in her hands now, and you can see the excitement building in her chest as she thinks about it more. In moments, she will board a train to the Capitol, and then she will win the Games and you will be sorry for doubting her. Clove has dreamed of this while you were dreaming of her death. She knows exactly how this will play out.

Clove leans over to you, says I’m doing this for both of us, and then she’s across the room in the blink of an eye, telling the Peacemakers that she’s ready to go. The last sight of her is the vicious, glimmering girl you’ve always known, and then the doors slam shut behind her and she is yours no more.

You see her die when you’re least expecting it. She made it past the initial bloodbath, past the splitting of the Careers, past all the twists and turns of fate. You honestly thought she would win by that point, even though Cato was still in it. Clove had told you privately once that she would kill any of the other Twos were they to be her fellow tribute, no matter how strong an ally. She would never hesitate, and she would win. You believed her.

Clove doesn’t get the chance to prove herself right or wrong. She dies trying to kill Katniss Everdeen, that revolutionary from District Twelve. Clove was taunting her, taking her time about the kills. It was a mistake, and it haunts you to know that’s what her district will think of her. They won’t remember her bravery for joining the games, they’ll point out that one flaw in her perfect game to their children so the next generation will be even better.

You miss her night and day. You still expect the Capitol trains to bear her back to you when the Games are over, and it takes your brain some convincing to realize that Katniss and Peeta won the Games this round, not your lover. She’s yours no longer. She’s yours forever. Yours and that of the cold, dark earth in which you buried her empty casket. The grass grows over it now, thick and green. You knot your hands in it when the going gets tough and you scream at her for leaving you. She never answers.

It sickens you later, poisoning your mind against everything you’d ever held dear. This was their golden girl, their Clove, and when she died, they all tossed her aside like a bloody rag doll. She gave them everything and they can’t even remember her properly.

Another war comes soon. It brings rebellion to your very doorstep. Soon enough, they find you, and tell you that there are ways to help their cause. If you were not so foolish to admit it, you think you might even be listening.

If you were to do it, you’d do it for her. Clove always taught you to never back down. You think of her, and you enter the fray.

hunger games tag list: @w1shes43, @ilovexavierthrope

#clove #clove imagines #clove x reader #clove oneshot #hunger games #hunger games imagines #hunger games x reader #hunger games oneshot #thg #thg imagines #thg x reader #thg oneshot #hunger games clove #hunger games clove x reader #hunger games clove oneshot

32 notes · View notes

sergeantsporks · 1 year

Note

I love discussing the Phoenix angst in hypothetical “young Darius died” Au but ever since it was brought up I just can’t stop thinking of the ripple effects Darius’s sudden disappearance/death would cause in that Hexside generation on top of all the things that were already happening in canon. What was the official explanation of Darius’s death to the public? Especially so close to the GG’s “death”? It feels so unfathomable to imagine a timeline without Darius that it would immense effect on the other characters’ stories. I mean, Lilith just having joined the coven (and cursed her sister), the Alador, Odelia, Darius friendship/feud at an abrupt end, Raine finding out the truth in their future rebel findings, it being one more thing for Eda to mistrust about the covens and the Empire?? So glad that Phoenix gets revenge in this Au, he deserves it along with lots of therapy, but I also cannot stop thinking about the way the death would irreparably change this group of highschoolers.

Oh, for sure! I think Belos would probably just combine the deaths into one combo attack, like if he said "oh, the golden guard was tragically killed in a demon attack" it would change to "the golden guard and his young protegee were tragically killed in a demon attack" you know? Or if there were days between them, it would be like "oh, sadly after the first one died, the other went after the thing that killed them and got killed themself. Shame."

But YEAH, can you imagine? I mean, we don't know how Eberwolf got into the rebellion thing, without Darius would he have gone through with nabbing Raine without planning on recruiting them? Imagine being Lilith and seeing the one person you knew in the coven end up dead. Would Alador remember him fondly, or would he hate him forever? Would Raine be able to sneak Eda into the Day of Unity on their own?

He's a minor character, by all classifications, but the impact he leaves is HUGE.

#asks #toh #gilded family au #darius deamonne #darker timeline

23 notes · View notes

boasamishipper · 8 months

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 🤍

you're so prolific I want to make you pick 5 😈

how can you ask me to choose Only Five.......this is like asking me to choose a favorite child.......

The Stars Walk Backward (Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Finn/Rey)

this fic contains everything i wish the sequel trilogy had given me: luke training finn and rey, reysky, endgame finnrey, queer poe dameron (as well as a plethora of other queer characters), kylo ren actually being a villain, a finn-centric main storyline, a stormtrooper rebellion, etc etc etc. it remains one of my more complicated multi-chaps (see: all the plot points i made myself juggle), and though i will forever be angry about the direction the sequel trilogy took, this fic will always have a special place in my heart.

Make A Wrong One Right (Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, Maverick&Goose)

[stefon snl voice] this fic has everything. time travel. magical realism. heavy angst. gratuitous back to the future references. ice and mav's conversation in ch2 remains my all-time favorite scene i have ever written for them.

Word on the Street (Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, Outsider POV)

in which a handsome navy pilot moves into the neighborhood and the real housewives of fallon, nevada, promptly go feral - even more so when none of them can seem to agree on what the handsome navy pilot looks like. this was my first time writing outsider pov, and i had an absolute blast doing so. sharon markowe my short jewish queen 2kforever.

You Had Me At Aloe (Top Gun, Iceman/Maverick, pre-Rooster/Phoenix/Fritz)

fritz may have gotten exactly Zero lines in top gun: maverick which is sad but Also that means that my headcanon of him as amy santiago trapped in the body of jason mendoza is not jossed!! hurray!! while i loved writing fritz being a Mess and the number one iceman kazansky stan on base and playing off bradley and phoenix (as well as sick!mav confusing bradley for goose), this fic makes the top five faves list solely because of this exchange:

Fritz buries his face into a wad of toilet paper and wails. “I told my hero he looked like a plant!” There’s a long pause. Fritz can hear Phoenix whispering part of an explanation. “Well,” Bradley says at last. “In your defense, he kind of does.” “That doesn’t make it better!”

For A Minute There I Lost Myself (Ted Lasso, Nate Shelley-centric)

you know, during the hiatus i was pretty proud of myself for coming up with this version of nate's s3 arc, and after s3 dropped i was even more proud of myself because Boy Howdy is 'nate grows into himself as a coach for west ham, bonds with his players, stands up to rupert, and mends fences with ted, who also apologizes to him' a more compelling storyline than whatever the fuck jason sudeikis and co gave us. goddamn.

bonus 5 faves because i can:

When I See Your Light Shine (Ted Lasso) - In which Sam matches with Dani on Bantr instead of Rebecca, and the rom-com of the ages ensues. Part 1 of a series.

Austin Alone (9-1-1: Lone Star) - In which Owen and Billy become friends with benefits after the reopening of the 126. Co-written with my bestie @lilalbatross.

and it was not your fault but mine (Ted Lasso) - In which Jamie learns that forgiveness is not the same thing as trust, and Sam gets some agency back.

Many Happy Returns (No Exchanges or Refunds) (What We Do In The Shadows TV) - In which it is Colin Robinson's birthday.

'cause a cat's the only cat (who knows where it's at) (Top Gun, Captain Marvel) - In which Maverick and Iceman's alien cat has alien kittens. Part 8 of my TG Captain Marvel AU series.

#my fics #thanks for asking!#beautiful mutuals #(perry mason voice) how the fuck do i have 102 fics

10 notes · View notes

foundationbuilt · 2 months

Note

⭐

send ⭐ for muses I'd like to explore <3

placed under a read more because there's quite a few dynamics sjsjsjs.

regulus & draco. so i have an undying need for regulus black lives and tries to stop draco from following down his path, like it's essential. but i know that your draco follows the werewolf theory which would also be very interesting. like regulus knows exactly how their family would react to that, and the other people around draco, and the regulus i write has grown up A LOT since he was a teenager. it would be an interesting dynamic, i think.

regulus & scorpius, depending on how you write scorpius, i can also see a potential here for complicated family dynamics.

percy & jason, of course, these two boys with their own camps and their own responsibilities and becoming two entirely different people because of this. it's very interesting and i love exploring it. i hate the "oh, i need to prove i'm better than him" kind of thing percy and jason were forced into in canon because i really don't see that as ... part of their personalities ?? so it'd be nice to explore otherwise.

percy & luke. potential, potential, so much potential !!!! like i'm all for the canon route of enemies these two went down, but i've also down for canon divergences where sally actually died and percy went full rebellion against the gods, on luke's side. kind of like the idea of sally dying earlier and percy ending up on the streets with luke, annabeth and thalia somehow. so much potential here.

sally & percy, role reversal i'd love to write my sally with your percy. because that relationship is just ... *chefs kiss*. i adore it. let me have it all.

poseidon & percy, same as the above, give me all the father-son dynamics. give me the angst, the rage, the bitterness, what it's like to have a child that heralds your doom, what it's like to have a father that doomed you to such a difficult life, and what it's like to find a way to love them anyway. poseidon desperately not wanting to lose his son and trying to find ways to get percy to accept godhood ... *side eyes*.

percy & ashton, when i read ashton's bio i kind of thought of percy and ashton being on a quest and ashton needing to use his charmspeak to manipulate their captors or whatever, and percy being like, yeah, thanks, bro, can you also charmspeak the dogs to stop barking and alerting everyone to where we are? unfortunately, i can only speak to horses. like i don't know why, but i really just get a chill vibe from these two together.

jace & alec, parabatai all the way i will die on this hill. i love these two. give me all the dynamics from the little boys who first met to the men they grow into, all the angst, the hurt they've inadvertently given one another, the devotion and even how that devotion can be their downfall !!!

clary & george, these two of simon's best friends meeting and being like, hmmmm ... like i can see a little bit of resentment in clary that someone could ever come into simon's life and replace her. but then she's so happy he had someone at the academy, and it's like "okay, truce, let's agree to share him."

clary & theo, i like the idea of clary being interested in this werewolf-nephilim hybrid, especially in a verse where jocelyn and luke have had a kid. like she would be trying to figure out what to expect for the future for her half-sibling, but even without that, i think she'd have a soft spot for him. defending him against the clave, etc.

scott & christopher argent jr. i like the idea of exploring a dynamic with allison's brother. that's something that scott never had to do in canon, and with a brother that's even more involved in the family business, even if he isn't after him like his father ( initially ), mother, grandfather and aunt were.

scott & liam, i love this dynamic !! scott's first beta, which he has so much guilt about and it's his responsibility and he messes up but he loves that kid and he wants to protect him ugh, give me scott and liam all the time, every day.

hayley & donovan, there's the past with tyler that i think would be really interesting for hayley to interact with his kid. especially when he's attending the same school as her kid.

hayley & klaus, my otp, i honestly don't care if it's romantic, sexual, platonic, familial, these two and their dynamics have a grip on my heart. i will always, always want to write everything about them. canon, divergence, au's - give me it all.

klaus & rebekah, sibling bond at it's toxic finest !! honestly, need i say any more.

hayley & rebekah, also sisterhood, because they both deserve it sm and they're both exactly what the other would need as a sister i think.

wednesday & enid, that's her best friend. she's never had a best friend before that isn't a disembowled hand but enid snuck under that skin and into her black heart and she's staying there. it was not wednesday's choice but it's happening. i love the dynamic.

katniss & finnick, like these two lost their minds together in thirteen and i will never be over their friendship. it is the LAST person katniss ever thought she'd be friends with but he ended up one of her best friends and i will forever sob about them. i love them, all dynamics, including an au where the rebellion never happened and katniss ended up a capitol puppet just like him. *side eyes*.

sam&dean & lennox, give me winchester sibling things. a littlest sibling for dean to be responsible for, a little sister for sam to also be responsible for. like there's so much potential here. sam not being the "baby" is ... interesting, because john and dean trying to "shelter" him is a major part of who he is.

#[ ooc / delphi ]#[ answered ]#shadowbrn

4 notes · View notes

fay-zay · 1 year

Text

Back to You

Pairing: Teenage Kim Doyoung x Female Reader

Genre: Angst, past lovers, toxic relationship, the reader is reminiscing the past

⚠️: cursing, suggestive, mentions of blood, cigarettes, alcohol, law-breaking, underage smoking, drinking

Synopsis: Her heart has been broken by him. Not once, not twice but too many times to count. And she left everything she knew so that she wouldn't have to be plagued by what remained of their train wreck of a relationship; if you can even call it that. What if life brings her to a turn a choice must be made? To face him or to not; that was the question.

Memories. Weird stuff aren't they? How they ruin the happiest days and make the worst moments better. She trapped her bottom lip under the clasp of her pearly teeth, her fingers tracing the raised silver patterns on the black invitation card; obviously deep in thought.

"So, will you come?" Narae cautiously looked at the girl who seemed like she hadn't changed the slightest in the past few years and yet at the same time, was also a totally different person.

She was still there, the same Y/N but she looked freer, happier. Freer, without the ever so familiar neutral colour high-neck, plain skirt and plaid blazer with plain tights. Happier without the constant pressure of standards and expectations weighing down on her shoulders. Sometimes, it's best to leave the past where it belongs and live in the present. This was applicable in the case of both memories and people.

But she was somehow still the same. With her proper posture, the neatness in her house, the degrees framed in a blank piece of wall, the vestiges of vintage perfume. The scent of which was oh-so-familiar to Narae thanks to her numerous meetings with the person who birthed her closest friend to date.

It astonished the girl how unlike Y/N's facial structure was from her mother and yet, her eyes were the exact same. Those round almond eyes were the exact copy of Mrs Han. The same balance of cold and warmth, co-existing, just like they were in Narae's memory of their first meeting. As cruel as it might seem, she was carrying traces of the person she hated the most from and would do so for the rest of her life. One can never truly leave the past in the past, after all. It is a part of what makes our future and present.

"I don't know Rae," Y/N softly answered, placing the invitation on the glass centre table between them. "As much I care for you and Taeyong and am happy for you, going will mean facing him and I don't know if I'm ready for that,"

Narae acted quickly, clasping the girl's hand. "You don't have to worry about that Y/N," She assured, her eyes sparkling with repressed anticipation. "He's most likely not to come," "Eh?! Why's that?" The look of curiosity and worry in her eyes assured Narae of one thing. Neither of them was over the other as they had claimed.

When she was young, Y/n watched Tangled religiously. The long-haired girl was stuck in a tower just like she was. As she grew older, she realized that she might not have a rogue prince as Rapunzel did. Until of course, she did.

She was never the one to dig old graves. What was done, was done. She preferred focusing on the upcoming than worrying about the previous. So why? Why was it that this one piece of her previous hunting her so much? She'd left everything. Those people, that environment, those streets, those lanes, that city and the memories. She'd given up everything so that she didn't constantly get reminded of him.

Him. The first him in her life. And thanks to him, no other he ever made it long enough to leave as big of an impression as he did.

Matters of the heart; very complicated indeed. But the complications arise by 10x when the heart is that of a suppressed 17-year-old. And what else could make things even more twisted than they already are, except for a charming 19-year-old boy with a perfect exterior, just like her? The difference? The glint of rebellion in his siren eyes that occasionally turned into sparkling doe eyes, the indistinct lines of ink on his neck, that he made moderate efforts in hiding; only to appease his family.

The swirl of adoration behind the nonchalance in his eyes, the devious prologue of a smirk on his lips and the teasing voice were imprinted in her mind. This was like Rapunzel and Flynn Rider all over again. But this time, her Flynn Rider didn't have a heart and this tangled mess didn't have a happy ending. Han Y/N being, the Rapunzel, didn't get her teenage fantasy with her Flynn Rider. Kim Doyoung.

'I hope you consider coming, Y/N. I really would...'

That was what was all that was visible from the notification bar. As much as Y/n wanted to know what else Narae had written, if she opened that text, it'd be marked as seen and then she'd have to come up with a response. A response she didn't have right now.

She hates doing that, leaving people on seen. Actually, it was about leaving people hanging. She hated feeling like she was abandoned, overlooked and forgotten. The powerful feeling of dejection that was capable of spreading itself in one's whole being within a few seconds. This sinking feeling; Y/N didn't want Narae to feel that way. Her living with this feeling for a larger part of her life was more than enough.

This is why she clicked the device shut before shoving it into the deepest part of her purse and making her way out of the door. Trying her damnest to not glance at the aristocratic-looking black and silver envelope. Damn you Taeyong for having a such top-notch taste!

She liked bright days; ones where you could just feel the warmth of the sun despite whatever layers of clothing you had on. It felt like a hug from someone nurturing, someone protecting. And given that she lacked in that quotient of life; Y/N looked forward to the days that were bright, sunny and warm. And yet! Yet, despite the day being just the way she likes it, she couldn't make herself stand and enjoy the warm hug of Mother Nature.

There was a raging storm of confusion, hesitation and jealousy inside her and until it was subsided, she wasn't gonna be able to focus on anything else.

"He just got out of a pretty nasty break-up with one of Taeyong's ex-boss's daughters," Narae's voice echoed at the back of her head as she pressed the gas and drove past the ever-so-familiar neighbourhood. "It's unlikely that he'll attend since they ended on pretty bad terms after being all over each other for 2 years,"

"2 years?!" She scoffed, "That selfish son of a bitch!" Y/N hissed, gripping the steering wheel hard enough for her slender fingers to start hurting. She was angry, knowing that Doyoung moved on while she was stuck for God knows what reason!

But the problem was, it was only fair they moved on. They were supposed to move on. It had been 6 years since they last saw each other. It was natural that he moved on. Then why was she so angry? Because she couldn't move on? God, the mere thought of it sounded petty and selfish.

But then again, Y/n had never claimed to be the most understanding. In fact, it was because of him that she thought the way she thought.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" She slammed the brakes, realizing too late that she just broke a red light. With a maniacal cry of frustration, she rested her head on the wheel, the cold metal somehow comforting to her disturbed state. "Fuck this guy!" She mumbled, as three rapid knocks sounded on top of her. And just as she expected, the blue uniform-clad law enforcer was glaring at her through the tempered glass.

"Miss, you're gonna get a ticket for the stunt you just pulled," The officer sternly stated, challenging with his eyes."Yeah, whatever officer," She waved her hands, staring straight. Now why the fuck did the officer look dejected when she simply accepted her ticket? Would he rather she sped away and he got the chance to be a part of an epic street chase?!

17-year-old Y/n had entertained that wish for a long, long time. Not anymore. But as she collected the thin piece of paper, her mind suddenly went down the wrong lane of memory. One that she didn't allow herself to visit for a very long time.

Flashback

"How random can you be!" She laughed, the air filling with the unsettling yet addicting scent of spray paint. "Hey! Don't insult my artwork!" He jibed back, his tongue sticking out in mock annoyance while his eyes shot lasers at her. "I mean, the flowers are pretty but Doyoung, at least try and be creative!"

"Hey!" He complained yet again, noiselessly making his way to the convertible where Y/N lay on top of the windshield, her skirt bunched up enough to see her upper thighs and the edge of her lace tights.

Roughly grabbing her thighs, he yanked her down so that she was now sitting on the hood, almost sliding off thanks to the shiny exterior of the car and the material of her skirt. But that was the least of her concerns as she found herself sharing breaths with him. "I've been plenty creative, dove. You just need to open your eyes wider and see it better,"

And while she busied herself in analyzing the now damaged storefront, Doyoung pulled her closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, nipping here and there. Her urge to clutch onto his dark locks and hug him tighter was overwhelming but she knew better than to act on her desires! Doyoung's mood was unpredictable and she knew it was smart to keep her hands to herself unless he vocalized his disagreement. Instead, she tried her level best to focus on the storefront he'd just spoiled.

It was beautiful, painted the soothing shades of sea and sage green, looking rather empty without the gigantic display bouquets and flower pots that she was accustomed to seeing in the daytime. What stood out the most was the inky black graffiti Doyoung had made mere minutes ago. The dripping alphabets looked gaudy and misplaced against the otherwise aesthetic flower shop.

'The flowers are fucking pretty' is what he wrote. And she would've been snickering at the irony of the words if the artist himself wasn't busy leaving open-mouthed kisses all over her shoulders and neck! It was impossible to focus on anything really,

And who knows how long he'd have continued this sweet torture if a sickeningly familiar whistle hadn't pierced through the silent stillness of the night. "Fucking hell!" Doyoung hissed, immediately detaching himself from her and running for the driver's seat. And as Y/N herself hurried down the hood and into the passenger seat whilst pulling the hood securely over her face, she couldn't help but feel the sinking feeling of dejection in the pit of her stomach.

"Hurry the fuck up!" He barked, already teasing the accelerator with his foot. And even as they sped away, she looked out of the window, the surroundings seeming nothing but blurs of colours, the night breeze kissing her all over her face as an annoying voice kept on nagging at the back of her mind. 'He didn't wait for you! He saved himself! That's not what someone you like should do!'

But as always, she paid no mind to it. It was easier that way. To avoid what was soo painfully correct to take up the time with him. To be around him. "Are they coming?" He asked, sparing her glace all while still burning rubber. Y/N stuck her head out of the window, the chilly night air now slapping against her soft cheeks as she scanned the road they'd left behind. Sure enough, the cop car was just turning the corner, still very much hot on their heels.

"Yes, they're out for our heads!!" She yelled, whipping herself back in. "Why did you get in? Keep a watch!" "You know I can't do that! It's too risky!" She instantly regretted saying what she said rolling since he huffed out, frustrated before his eyes. Whilst mumbling something along the lines, 'What did I even expect?'

It felt like he'd just stabbed her heart with a sharp dagger. But she simply bit her tongue and pushed herself out of the window again; this time a bit too much to be considered safe. But nonetheless, she kept a watch. Just like he told her to do. Because that's what she always does.

And what hurt her the most was he didn't even notice how many times she almost fell out of the window. How much the edge of the window cut through the material of her shirt and broke the skin of her waist enough to make her wince every time he took a sharp turn.

She didn't realize he just ran a red light until she saw them leaving the traffic sign behind. 'Look at you, Kim Doyoung. Making me do so many unimaginable things, all in one night,' She sighed, pulling the hood tighter around her face. One more sharp turn and too many things happened at the same time. The hand that was gripping the interior of the car gave up, the edge of the window rammed against her waist hard enough to make Y/N whimper and they finally lost the police!

She felt herself falling forward due to his hard brake until one of his arms wrapped around the back of her waist and yanked her back in, his nails digging into her wound, making her let out another agonized cry!

"I leave you alone for 20 minutes and you almost get killed! What the fuck is wrong with you!?" He basically slams her against the passenger seat, the wet feeling under his fingers and a brief glance down to her waist, finally letting him on what he was clearly neglecting. That did something to him. How silent she had been the entire darn time, allowing him to make his sweet escape. And to take his sweet time to act responsibly. Why does he do this to her?

"Look at me Y/N," She refused, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stubbornly avoided eye contact. "Y/N, look at me!" He raised his voice this time, his grip on her arms now strong enough to bruise. More tears, but not a sound went past her lips. Doyoung hated how much it affected him. Her tears, her pain, the look of hurt and disappointment in her beautiful eyes.

"Love, please..." He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, the tiny expanse of her skin tasting salty due to her tears. He didn't let up, continuing to dot her cheeks with tiny pecks. Until she finally sighed in what seemed to be defeat and turned her head to face him. "Does it hurt?" He asked, facing her. She simply nodded.

After all these months around her, Doyoung had learned that Y/N didn't scream or shout when she was angry. She just went silent. And as much as Doyoung tried to not care, he didn't like her silence.

Nodding, he brought himself back to the driver's seat before reaching over to make her lay flat against the seat. "Let's go home, dove" He gently added, earning nothing but a disinterested nod from her. One of his hands remained intertwined with hers as he drove them away, further away from the eventful night and into the soothing chilly night.

End of flashback

Sighing, Y/N lay her head flat on the desk. Thinking about Doyoung made her feel weird. A weird mixture of self-pity, pain and maybe even some loneliness. He had messed her up, true. But he had also left an impression lasting enough to find a way to slither into her thoughts every once in a while. And now there was a chance that she could be seeing him again, she didn't know how to handle that information.

"Y/N, you alright?" She knew the voice well enough to not bother getting up from her sprawled-out state. He'd seen her waay too many times to care. She simply nodded against the wooden surface. "Well you certainly don't like you are," Now this, made her mad.

"Kun, if you know the answer, why'd you even bother to ask?" She grumbled, still not getting up. "I just hoped you'd be honest about your state for once in your life," The teasing smile was clearly audible in his voice. "Shut up Kun!" "So you finally look up to shoot me a death glare, that brings me great joy as your friend," Kun rolled his eyes. "Suck it up, big baby!" She snapped,

"What's going on?" Kun's voice softened, hand raising to gently massage the top of her head. "It's complicated Kun," "When is it not?" This time, Y/N broke into a chuckle, her eyes still hooded and shoulders weighed down with the weight of despair. "You can tell me,"

She knew she could. Y/N never claimed to be a social butterfly but she needed a friend or two like every normal human being on Earth. Though she wouldn't also claim to be entirely normal. But Narae was one of the very few girls who didn't envy her deep down because of the money she had in her MasterCard. Or hated her because she was conventionally beautiful.

Just like Narae, Kun was the very few men who didn't care how she was her superior. One of those people who didn't care how educated or how powerful she was. That's why she trusted him. She liked him because he treated her for what she was. A human being who simply had something to prove. He was a friend, who loved to tease her and also was always ready with a listening ear and advice.

"Kun, at times when you don't know what to do;" She started, her voice still muffled by the wood. "...do you listen to your heart or do you listen to your mind?"

"Is it a matter of the heart or the matter of the head?" Kun rebutted, his tone balanced. "Matters of the heart," She admitted, her voice small, despite her face now lying sideways. "Then I'd listen to the heart," He said. "I know many people would say that it's a stupid decision to think that way. But just like I won't understand your worries as you would, your mind won't understand the troubles of your heart like your heart would."

He saw things soo simply, soo accurately that it made things a lot clearer for Y/N. "And while I admit the heart does tend to take some dumb decisions, the head is too safe. And as much as you've let me in your love life," Kun paused to smile down at her. "The matters of your heart cannot be fixed with the safe approach the brain has,"

"Why are you here wasting your talent away when you easily could've made all the psychology and literature professors eat dirt with your lectures alone!" Kun burst out laughing, definitely flattered by her comments. He knew for a fact Y/N didn't bullshit. Whatever she said was the vocalisation of her thoughts.

"Coming from you, Boss," He hopped off the mahogany desk he was sitting on and walked for the door. "I might as well consider that," "Hey now don't make me lose my best employee!" Y/N yelled back, spinning in her swivel chair, feeling much lighter than before.

It's true when they said that talking to someone else about your worries lessens their burden. Y/N, while still conflicted, had a clearer path in front of her. She knew which part of her she ought to listen to. Now which part she would ultimately end up choosing; only time would tell.

"Where are you? Where are you?" Zooming through the aisles of the department store, her eyes scanned the rows of sweet treats and snacks for her favourite brand of sour strings. Not that she minded chewing on her hoodie strings, she needed some taste once in a while. "Found you!" She grabbed two packets and dumped them in her basket. "That will be all," She offered the young girl on the counter as she placed her basket for check out.

As the items were being checked out, she let her eyes wander, scanning the neatly arranged arrays of energy drinks, pills and frozen goods beside the counter. The hard packet came into her sight rather abruptly, since she hadn't noticed it all this time. A sigh escaped her lips as Jaeyun reached forward and picked the pack in her hands. And relished the feeling it brought.

The nostalgia, the familiarity, the unfamiliarity and of course, those memories. Always those darn memories!

Flashback

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" His voice came out rather muffled since his lips were now occupied with holding the white stick in between them. His eyes scrutinized her in front of him, her fingers hovering over the pack that contained several other sticks.

"I know I don't," She shrugged, "But I'd like to try one. I can always throw it away if I don't like it." "And waste my cigarettes on you? Yeah no thanks, love." His reply made her pout.

"Oh come on Doie! Just one, please! I swear I won't waste it!" She pleaded, her hands clasped around his. "Okay! Okay, jeez!" Doyoung scoffed, placing a thin cancer stick on her hand. "And how many times do I have to tell you to not call me that?" He snapped, rather sharply whilst lighting the stick between his lips. God, he looked so fucking gorgeous when he did that! Enough to make her ignore the pang of hurt that slammed itself against her already bruised heart.

"Are you going to light it or what?" He asked, snapping her out of her reverie. "Can't you just light it for me?" She asked, lightly offering. She hoped he would take it as a joke and just toss the lighter her way. If he snapped again, Y/N didn't know if she would be able to resist the urge to stomp the cigarette down her foot and walk away. Once in for all,

These days, she wanted to do that. She wanted to suffer the pain of being away from him. Instead of suffering from the constant heartbreaks, he gifted her with.

Surprising her, Doyoung simply puffed out smoke before saying, "Come here," Placing the white stick between her lips, Y/N stood in front of him, their shoes touching. Doyoung gave her one of those famous smirks of his, before leaning down and making the tips of their cigarettes touch. And Y/N's heart almost burst!

He was so close and even though he was closer than that, she felt like she was seeing the most intimate form of Doyoung right now. His hooded eyes, the strands of parted black hair falling over and covering bits of his forehead, his luscious lips enclosed around the cigarette. He smelled like nicotine, rich leather and musk. Must be his favourite le Labo perfume that he seemed to never get tired of.

He was a beautiful man, no doubt. And despite that, it hurts soo much to want to be with him. Why did he have to be the way he did? "There, all done, my dove." He smiled, and for a few seconds, she saw the child behind his calculated and alluring eyes. And yet again, it was making her fall deeper than she already was. She looked away, inhaling the nicotine.

And then broke into fits of coughs soon after. Doyoung simply chuckled, watching Y/N as she dry heaved. "What sort of idiot invented this!" She cast a vicious look at the lit cigarette, her eyes watering. "Jesus Christ, I feel like I swallowed ash! Fuck!" She gagged, spitting on the sidewalk.

"You wanna stop, love?" Doyoung asked, his smile long gone now. "No, but maybe take a second," Y/N sighed, her eyes watering.

Soon enough, she'd gotten through her first cigarette. She didn't know if she should be proud of herself. "That's enough for a day! Come on! You're swaying already!" Doyoung flicked his cigarette away and took off his jacket, wrapping it around Y/N's comparatively small body and leading her to the car. Halfway through, her knees gave away, making the girl almost surface.

"Fuck, Y/N! Don't faint!" Doyoung urgently hissed, haphazardly supporting her body but too late, she was limp. "Oh for fuck's sake!" The older boy sighed, now picking the girl up, bridal style, still wrapped in his jacket. It amazed her, how small she was compared to him. How delicate and innocent she was.

"Doie..." She sleepily drawled, her hair falling over her face. Doyoung chuckled softly before answering, "What love?" "Thanks for the cigarette," He had to snort, at how freaking adorable she sounded. "Hmm, did you enjoy it?" He asked, holding her tighter against his body. Y/N nodded against his chest before answering, "It reminded me of you," And after that, she was completely gone!

As he placed her inside his convertible and drove her back home, he couldn't help but think if she meant it. About the cigarette reminding her of him. Because Doyoung knows how those feel like. After the initial buzz of adrenaline and excitement, it drained you down. It made you feel tired and kept you coming back for more.

End of flashback

"Should I add it to the total, ma'am?" Y/N snapped out of her thoughts at the girl's question. "Yeah?" She turned to look at her. "Oh no! I was just..." She placed the pack of cigarettes back in its place. "I honestly don't know why I picked them up," She smiled. "I was wondering the same," The girl added, handing her the plastic bag of her shopping. "Excuse me ma'am but you don't look like the type to smoke," She broke out into a small chuckle at the girls' words before winking. "You'd be surprised,"

Y/N was addicted to them. Until of course, Doyoung walked out of her life. Those white sticks reminded her of him. So she forced herself to give it up. Just like everything she gave up everything that reminded her of him. He left with the same callousness as he came in and while she was heartbroken, she was also glad.

How long was she going to torture herself? How long was she going to run into those same circles? Wasn't it easier that he left as much as it hurt to be the girl who was left behind?

Destiny works in wonderful ways really. Y/N had run from the thought of Doyoung for the past 6 years. Yet, he ruled a part of her. He was still messing her up despite not having shown his face to her since the day he left her for someone else. She chuckled, bringing her phone out; finally ready to text Narae back.

'I hope you consider coming, Y/N. I really would love for you to be here in my big day.'

'I'll come Rae, see you soon.'

Wrapping the jacket, his jacket, tighter around her small frame, Y/N took yet another sip of her whiskey. What were the odds? After running for 6 darn years, she was going to take the risk of running into him again. And that too, on the wedding day of the girl he left her for. To his best friend.

She knew how stupid the decision was. How much it could hurt her, all over again. But then again, if Y/N was going to make a stupid decision for someone, wouldn't it make sense for it to be Doyoung? If she was going to risk going through all of that pain again; who else would it be except for Doyoung?

#nct #neo culture technology #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #toxic love #toxic relationship #past love #doyoung drabbles #doyoung angst #nct angst #back to you

29 notes · View notes