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imjustababyyyy · 1 year

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brothers.

"You're so reckless, Leo! You can't just make jokes in the middle of a fight with the enemy okay? Because of you waren and hippno got away with the money!" Leo's vision started to blur with tears but none fell "Are you even listening to me!?" Raph yelled at him

"you know what Leo you will stay at home training and thinking about what could have happened. What if next time they will steal something important and dangerous like krang? So take this as a lesson I'm done!" Oh. Raph turned and left.

Leo felt something cold and wet on his cheeks. Tears. He touched it and let out a soft sob.

Raph's older sibling's senses were tingling. He turned around and saw Leo cry. He went towards him. "Leo?" No answer just soft sobs. "Leo, look let's talk yeah?" Leo finally looked at him and nodded "Okay. Come on let's do it in private, not in the middle of the lair shall we?" Another quiet nod.

Raph lifted his baby brother and walk towards Leo's room. "Raph, C-can we t-talk in your r-room?" His voice sounded crappy and quiet.

"Sure thing Lee," he said with a sweet voice and turned away from Leo's room all tho wondering why he doesn't want to talk in his own room.

"R-raph I-I am s-sorry" "no Leo it's okay you have nothing to apologize for I snapped at you so don't apologize" he slowly put Leo on his bed and went to close the door. And sat next to Leo

Silence. So fucking quiet. Nobody spoke.

" Leo, what's wrong? Since the invasion, you act strange. I know it was hard, especially for you. The leader thing, future boy, prison dimension and got knows what you're keeping for yourself. It's okay not being ok." Raph broke the loud tense silence in the room.

"You wouldn't understand Raph. It's nothing." Dang, he sounds tired.

Raph looked at him he had bags under his eyes so big Raph saw them even through his mask.

"Leo, first of all, how long were you sleepin' yesterday day and second maybe you think I won't understand but Raph can at least try. Raph's here for you lil' bro. Always" Raph smiles at him.

"But Raph you guys have your own problems Mikey can't draw because of me. Donnie hates everything slimy and pink you have panic attacks almost every day and also hate slimy stuff and it's all because of me!" He started yelling and crying at once.

"Leo! That is not true! They would steal that key sooner or later. It's not your fault. Okay?" He hugged him but Leo flinched.

"Leo, I know you, I know it's not just this it's something more. Talk to me, Leo. Raph is your big bro you can tell him anything" he pleaded him

"Okay, Raph you want to have this talk? Let's have this talk! Let's have a talk about Hamato Leonardo (Leonardo Hamato idk) the face man! The overlooked middle child! And the fuck up. But before that let's talk about you! Raphael Hamato, the eldest brother. You always put us before yourself." Leo angrily stood up and took a step back

"Leo, stop what do you mean the overlooked child?" Leo took another step back

" You don't remember? All the time... You guys were special. Talented even! And me? I had nothing. It all came together when our so-called 'father' made me a leader." Tears started to pricking in his eyes

"You guys were avoiding me for 3 months! And lived happy lives without me just fine. What was I supposed to think when I was up with Krang and could make your lives happier?" Tears started rolling down his cheeks

" Leo..." Raph stood up

"Don't Leo me! You know the truth! You didn't speak to me unless it was something like move Leo or not now Leo do you even know how it felt!?" Raph stopped

"Donnie. My twin. He also was doing the same thing as you! I knew you were an attention seeker but this is too much I didn't want any of this to happen! Mikey, well he didn't do anything at all just explaining that YoU hAd A hArD TiMe. April did the same as Mikey. WHY CAN'T I JUST BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU GUYS!" Leo was shaking violently with sobs

"Leo" Raph decided to come closer to his shaking brother "I know I was a toxic and bad big brother. And Raph is sorry. You are good enough for us don't you dare think you're not." He hugged the red ear slider surprisingly he didn't flinch.

Leo on the other hand hugged him back and sob in his plastron.

"Leo?" Blue-coded turtle looked up at him with puffy tired eyes "Is that why you threw yourself into the prison dimension?"

Leo looked down and says "no. But also yes."

"What do you mean?" Raph tensed in confusion and worried for his little brother.

"I wanted to stop them and just I thought this is what I deserved for what I've done." Leo went to Raph's bed and sat down.

"Leo...you can be a leader fuck even if you would be god always remember you are my little brother. You need to realize you are the second youngest of us. We can't lose you. I can't lose you." Leo shook his head as Raph went towards him.

Raph sat down on the floor his back against the bed.

Silence.

"Raph?" Leo hesitantly said

"Huh?" Raph turned his eyes on him

Leo got off the bed and climbed into Raph's lap.

"Would you still love if I was hurting... Myself?" Raph's eyes widened he hoped he didn't mean THAT thing.

"Yes. Why?" He looked at Leo in fear

Leo's bright blue eyes started filling with hot tears.

"I-I can't s-stop..." He took his gloves off and Raph could see his scars

"Leo. Stop me if I'm going too far but how long?" He felt tears fall down his right cheek

"7 months... I'm sorry! But I just can't go and pretend everything is fine when it's not. I'm so sorry." He broke down with sobs

"Leo it's okay" he hugged Leo tight "Look emmm for a start maybe you can emmmm take a cube of ice and run it over where you want to hurt yourself. That should help hopefully."

"Thanks really I appreciate this but ummm O already tried everything it's not working" he tried to wipe his tears off

"Okay but now you've got Raph and we will do it together. You're not alone Leo. And Raph will make sure of that." He smiled at Leo "for now rest you've been through an exhausting day. You need sleep. I love you, bro."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

10 minutes after Leo fell asleep hopefully peacefully... With a thought, HE IS NOT ALONE...

#rottmnt #leonardo #baby boi #selfharn #pain #brotherly love #raphael

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sylverstorms · 3 years

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Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.5 (NSFW!)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

'Cassandra's favorite', the other maids call you.

You can't tell if they mean it as a good or a bad thing. Hell, you can't even tell which of the two it really is.

Being her 'favorite' does not make you immune to harm in any way; bruises litter your shoulders and sides from when she grabs you too forcefully and cuts from her nails sting at your neck and stomach, renewed each time she comes to take a kiss.

None of that existed back when you were something of zero interest to her. On the other hand, she's told you several times you're 'a thing of beauty' --her thing of beauty-- and she won't let anything ruin a natural piece of art.

If you know anything about Cassandra, it is that she takes art very seriously. Your interpretation of the word greatly varies from hers, you're sure, but it doesn't change the fact she won't easily raise a sickle on you.

Cassandra won't break you. She won't let Daniela do so, either. Bela doesn't even care to hurt you. It means you're safe for now...

Unless Lady Dimitrescu decides you're best taken away from her daughter. Permanently. You don't dare meet her eyes, but you can feel them on you, scrutinizing, every night at dinner.

You're pretty sure she knows.

The thought sits heavy in your mind while you're cleaning bloodied steps off a corridor at three in the small hours of the morning, along with another maid. Adella is a quiet and hardworking one; the two of you make a good team and you know you'll be done in record time.

But it only takes a single moment for everything to go wrong.

Adella is hastily walking back to you with a bucket of fresh water in hand when you hear a different set of steps approach from the side. You make to warn her, but it's already too late.

The collision happens at the turn where the two passageways meet. As soon as you see black robes dripping wet you pray to whichever God will listen for mercy.

Because Cassandra has not been in a good mood all night and she is not the understanding type regardless.

Adella gasps and shakingly backs away, a waterfall of apologies spilling from her lips. Cassandra rolls her neck and draws her sickle, advancing on her slowly. She looks terrifying.

"Don't move now." she orders.

And you just- can't watch this. You don't know why, but the realization you cannot hits you like a speeding truck. You can't stand there while the the woman you frequently kiss cuts away at a girl you know is as good and compassionate as a human under your circumstances can possibly get.

You react.

Before you can even think how impossibly stupid you're being, you drop the mop in your hands and dash forward, crashing into Cassandra's form. Your right arm wraps around her waist and your left grips at her wrist like a vice. Your heart is pounding. You don't even know what you're saying;

"Cassandra, no! Please. Don't." Cold and rigid as she is, it may as well be a statue you're holding. "Cassandra, stop. Please." Once impulse dies down, you realize you've just signed your death wish for two seconds of playing hero.

And you thought you were smarter than that. Ha. But maybe, just maybe, part of you wants to die, so long as it's quick and painless.

With Cassandra, though, you doubt it. Especially with how lethal she sounds when she says:

"You. Disappear." You hear, rather than see, Adella scurrying off for her life. "As for you..."

You only register a blur, nausea, cold nails piercing at your neck, over already existing marks. You are shoved into the nearest wall so powerfully you can't breathe for all of ten seconds. It's a wonder you don't hear any cracks from within your body.

Cassandra is on you, her fingers harsh on your chin and breath chilly on your lips. "Good pets don't bark against their own masters. What made you so bold, hm?"

You don't answer, too busy summoning your mental strength for what comes next. The way her eyes and the lines of her pretty face have hardened, she looks nothing like the flirty girl who comes to steal kisses from you at random times during the night.

"Maybe I've been too nice to you. The first time you call my name and it's for some other maid?"

She looks like she wants to let out a bitter laugh, break something and slice you into stripes simultaneously. And then you realize; Cassandra is jealous.

It doesn't get any worse than that.

"Maybe I should make sure you never say anything again." The corner of her lips curls up in dark amusement as she talks. "You don't talk much, anyway."

Well. She did say she wouldn't let anyone ruin your looks. Never promised anything about what's on the inside.

You're shaking, even if her grasp doesn't leave much room to do so. Your brain is restlessly trying to come up with something to get you out of this mess-

"I'm of way more use to you with my tongue intact." you somehow manage to speak without stuttering. It makes you wonder where the hell this confidence came from.

Cassandra stills for a moment. Her grip eases the slightest amount, probably from surprise.

You wonder what the hell you're even doing, yourself, when you bring your hands to her sides and lean in, to the curve of her nice jawline. You've never kissed her neck before, but you remember from the times you've given her a massage that she's very sensitive around it.

Cautiously, you press your mouth to the soft spot under her ear.

She smells so good and her skin feels so smooth you're not exactly forcing yourself to kiss her. If you're going to be mutilated anyway, the part of you that must be severely messed up muses, you may as well take some pleasure for yourself beforehand. Who knows, it may change her mind along the way.

So you lick her there and suck over her faint pulse. You don't get any stimuli from her, at first.

Until her hand trails from your shoulder to your nape, urging you harder against her. It's the green light to keep going.

You put all your skill into it as you lavish her neck and collarbones with open-mouthed kisses. She's loose and moaning low in her throat now.

You can't tell why, but the sound echoes right though your adrenaline-induced system, tickles down your spinal cord to pool low in your stomach. You either had a kink for danger you never knew of, or you developed one in the castle.

Whatever the case, your fingers are working on the buttons of her outfit and she doesn't seem like stopping you has even crossed her mind.

When the robes barely hang onto her shoulders, Cassandra maneuvers you to the closest room, shuts the door and presses you against it. Hard. Your lips slide together hungrily. You taste wine on her tongue.

At this point, your hands are the only thing supporting her outfit on her. She looks too fucking sexy for words like this, half-undressed, lipstick smeared, so turned on and ready for you. But you also want to see more of her, so you let the black fabric drop.

She's getting impatient, though. Being more vocal, tugging your hand to the apex of her legs.

"Cassandra." you moan when you push the midnight lace of her panties aside and touch her. She's so wet.

Her mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, brows drawn softly. "Oh, you're lucky I like my name on your lips." she says, breathless.

You did start this trying to prove to her how useful your tongue can be attached to your body, however... so it's only fair that's how you finish it.

Finish her.

Cassandra looks dazed and confused when you kneel in front of her, but it's quickly replaced with a broken moan when you take her into your mouth. You revel in every single gasp you coax out of her, every minuscule shake of her perfect thighs.

She bites into her own hand when she reaches her peak, nails leaving four parallel marks on the wall.

You're gentlewomanly enough to pull her outfit up for her while she's coming down from her high. Your gaze takes its sweet time admiring the contours of her chest as you button it closed. She really is the most attractive girl you've ever seen, if you somehow don't take into consideration her body count.

"Good?" you ask when she opens her pretty eyes to look at you.

"It's not cute to be smug, plaything." Cassandra makes a soft grimace at you, though you can see the lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lip. "But. I suppose your tongue has its uses to me, after all."

You gently push off the door to let her exit at her leisure. The movement makes you realize you won't really be able to move tomorrow, with how sore you already are.

To your surprise, Cassandra takes a moment longer in the room.

She turns back to you and raises her hands to your torso, then carefully adjusts your wrinkled shirt. Her long fingers smooth over the imperfections she caused...

And you don't know why after everything the two of you just did, it's this that feels the most intimate.

The same digits brush over your throat as she pulls away.

By the time your mind starts working right again, Cassandra is already gone. Absently, you trace over the weeping scratches on your neck.

Later, at the main hall of the castle...

"Oh, boo, look who's late again." Daniela rolls her eyes at Cassandra's fashionably delayed arrival.

"Surprise, surprise." Bela smirks, casually leaned against the side of the fireplace.

"Are you two done being insufferable or should I come by later?" Cassandra asks.

"And scar our ears and minds with another round of your 'oh's and 'ah's, sister? I think not." Daniela comments.

Bela raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Had a nice time?"

"You two have very active imaginations, you know? Tells a lot about you." Cassandra chuckles. "She was just giving me a massage. But do go on. Be thirsty. I can wait."

Daniela and Bela share a look, thrown off their game by the nonchalance.

Cassandra hides a smirk under her hood and steps out first, into the peerless dark.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village #fanfiction #the thirst is real in this one guys #you have been warned

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 3 years

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆

Summary: you and harry dated in his early 20s but broke up after 6 months. You didn't tell him you were expecting his child out of fear. Now your son is 5 and Harry sees you with him.

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕.

𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆!

5k words

You may seem like the perfect 27 year old. You Have a nice career as a lawyer, a nice car, you lived in a nice suburb, and you have many friends and family that love you just as much as you loved them. people thought you were on top of the world, living freely, but that was beyond the truth.

you had a little boy named Jack. He was your life – no your world. Even though he wasn't planned you were so grateful for him. And the reason why you had all these things in your life is because you wanted him to have a good life even if Harry wasn't involved.

He wasn't in jack's life by your choice. You knew it was stupid and you should've told him before Jack was born but you didn't have the guts to and still don't. You thought you could do it without him and Frankly you did. It was tough but as long as a smile was upon his sweet face you know you were doing the right thing.

You walked down the people filled sidewalk; it was around 2pm and you were done with work, on your way to pick up your baby Jack for preschool.

You walked onto the school property, entering the building. It was full of parents picking up their kids and teachers talking. You went straight to jack's classroom to pick him up.

As soon as you entered the room, Jack spotted you. He smiled widely and ran to you wrapping his arms around your neck seeing that you were already crouched down. "Mommy!" You laughed as you picked him. "Hi buddy, did you have a good day."

Jack looked at you, his sea green mixed with a hint of brown sparkled. He was way too identical to harry it was insane. Green eyes, curly hair, dimples, he even had his accent but it was just slightly. He was just a harry styles 2.0 and every day he grew he started to look more and more like his dad.

"Yeah! We draw, and we went to dance class. It was fun." He said giddily as he placed both of his tiny hands on your cheeks.

You chuckled, "that's nice. Okay let's go." You let him down so he could walk. The both of you walked out of the school, on your ways with your life. "We're going to go to the bakery." You said looking down at Jack briefly. He looked up at you. "Mama's going to get a muffin. What are you going to get bug?"

Jack looked up at you, "I going to get a muffin too." He stopped in front of the bakery's door waiting for you to open it. It was the bakery you both always went to due to the fact it was only a block from the school. You said 'okay' as you opened the door.

The sweet smell of baked goods filled your nose making your stomach growl; you didn't even notice you were hungry until now. You and Jack walked in and got in the short line of 3 people waiting in front of you, waiting for your turn to order.

–

Harry who was just finishing up his run decided to stop at the bakery for a snack. He stopped at the door taking out his earphones before he walked in.

It wasn't packed which was nice he thought to himself. He got right behind you in line.

at first he didn't even recognize you. He was to busy looking at the menu, but when Jack asked you a question and you responded his breath hitched in his throat. He remembered your voice like it was yesterday. Still as sweet as anything he has ever heard.

So many thoughts were running through his mind. Who was the kid you were holding onto? Were you babysitting? Or is he Yours?

Harry took a deep breath, distancing himself from his thoughts. He was going to say hi to you instead of freaking out.

It took some courage but he spoke up. "Hi." He tapped your shoulder causing you to turn around. When you saw harry your eyes widened. "Harry.... Hi." You were shocked, this couldn't be real, it was actually harry fucking styles.

"how.. how are you?" You asked. You weren't sure if you should hug him or shake his hand; you weren't expecting this.

"I'm great." Harry placed his hand on his hips looking down at Jack. "Uh who's this little guy, you're babysitting?"

In the inside you cringed at that but answered him, "uh no. He's my son." You looked down at Jack who was looking between you and Harry in confusion of who harry was.

You looked back up at Harry, his eyebrows were knitted as he tried to put everything together.

"uhh" harry looked back at you. "Uhh is he mine?" His voice was high pitched as he asked that. You hesitated, but nodded.

You can see a mixture of pain and disbelief on Harry's face. It kinda hurted seeing how he looked.

"Why didn't you tell?" Harry said looking at you then to Jack. He was starting to notice how jack looked like him. You shook your head to the side, struggling your shoulders, running your available finger over your forehead, "I.. I." As you started your sentence you felt a tug on your pants. You looked down at a pleading eye Jack. "yes Jack?" "I want muffin." He said. You nodded, peering back at Harry, "Look can we sit down and talk after I get him his muffin?"

"yeah, sure." Harry said as he swallowed. You muttered an okay, going to the counter while harry found a seat. You ordered a muffin for Jack and a coffee for yourself before going to sit with Harry who was in a Booth in the far back of the bakery. He was not trying to be seen and you understood that.

You placed Jack in the booth before you took your seat. You put on his favorite show on your phone so he can watch it while you and Harry chatted.

Harry didn't look at you, he couldn't. He went all these years without knowing he had a son; that hurt him more than anything.

"look, Harry I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was scared and I didn't know what to do."

"you didn't know what to do? Y/n you could've called, text, told gemma or my mom. You had so many opportunities, and so many ways to tell me and you didn't." Harry exhaled as he finished. Even though he was pissed his voice was soft. As much as he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn't.

You looked down at your hand on the table. "I don't know what else you want me to say other than sorry." Harry looked up at you, "I know you're sorry, and I forgive you. But it's just, will you let me be in his life now?" You looked up at him, "of course." You softly grinned at Harry before looking at Jack. He had muffin crumbs all over his face as he ate it. You Chuckle, "Jack, I want you to meet someone."

Jack looked at you. "Who?"

"well I want you to meet him." You pointed at Harry, " he's your daddy." Jack looked at you then at Harry. "Daddy?" Harry laughed, "yeah, I'm your daddy." Jack looked back at you for reassurance. You nodded, laughing yourself. Jack turned back to harry. "Hi." He said smiling, followed by a little giggle.

----

Jack and you spending the Whole day with Harry. Despite the rough start, the day went well. It didn't take Jack and Harry long to become best buddies. Harry was already telling Jack about gemma, his dad, and Anne, jack was more than ready to meet them.

The night ended with Harry leaving around 8. He made sure to tell Jack he'll be back the next day to play with him. That made Jack extremely excited and he went straight to bed after harry left.

That night as you got in bed you wondered if today was a dream. It felt like one. It wasn't though. You laid in bed staring in the darkness as you tried to comprehend it.

The next day you took Jack to school and you went to work. The whole day your brain was in a blur. You tried your best to focus but you couldn't. You didn't know if it's because harry was back in your life and your past feeling for him were starting to return or something else, but whatever it was was like a concrete wall in your brain

You got through your work day and went straight to pick up Jack. Of course when you picked him up he gave you a big hug and cute giggles and smiles. As you both made your way home, Jack couldn't help but ask his dad.

"is daddy coming over." You nodded, "yeah, he's coming over for dinner. Should we make some pizza?" Jack nods his head as he giggles, "yeah!"

You snickered, "well let's go put some pizza in the oven.

You and Jack spent the evening cleaning and getting food ready. Jack was extremely excited; he couldn't help going to the window every minute to see if harry had arrive or not. He was already so attached to Harry.

While you were in the kitchen you heard the sound of a car pull up. Not long after you heard a streak, it was Jack. "Mama, he's here!" He ran in the kitchen, he was smiling and bouncing up and down.

You smiled, "let's go open the door." Jack led the way from the kitchen to the foyer. He struggled to open the door but once he got it open there was no stopping the kid.

He ran to harry, wrapping his arms around his legs; it nearly knocked harry unbalance. Harry chuckled, running his hands over his mini me.

"hi buddy." Jack pulled away from Harry's leg. "Hi daddy." Every time harry heard that name it felt like a dream.

"can I come inside?" Harry asked Jack even though the answer was obvious yes. "Yeah." Jack took harrys hand letting him in.

As he passed you, harry winked. You chuckled as you closed the door.

After spending a couple of minutes with Harry it was dinner time. You three sat at your dinning room table and ate. While Jack and Harry talked, you stayed quiet. It didn't go unnoticed by Harry either.

As you were cleaning up after dinner Harry managed to slip away from Jack to see if you were okay.

"hey y/n are you ok?" You turned to him. "Yeah, I'm great." You smiled at harry as you turned back to the dishes. Harry pressed his lips into a thin line. "Okay, well I'm going to go back to playing with Jack. He's so energetic."

You laughed as harry walked off finding the little monster. They were having such a good time and that made you so happy.

Later that night after Jack was put to bed, harry decided to stay a little late for a chat with you. You both sat on the couch beside each other but with a little space between you both.

"how have you been?" Harry asked you. You sighed through your nose, "I've been great. Really stressed from work, but I'm perfect." Harry nodded just the slightest. "What you do for work?"

You looked at him. "I am a lawyer." As you said lawyer harry couldn't help but smile. He remembered you always talking about wanting to be a lawyer and to see that you finally fulfilled your dreams makes him happy. "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you puppet."

The nickname, god the nickname. He used to always call you that when you were dating. Hearing it made your body tingle.

"you're working so hard, I have no idea how you took care of jack by yourself." You strugged your shoulders kinda getting a little embarrassed from Harry's comment.

Harry smiled at you, "how about I take out to dinner with no Jack, so you can relax. How does that sound?"

You looked up at harry, eyebrows raised, "umm sure, yeah." Harry smiled softly, his cute little dimples showing. "Okay." He stood up. "Well I gotta going. Thank you for having me over puppet."

Your breath hitched in your throat from the name as you stood up. Harry pulled you into a tight hug. If there was one thing he was good at, it was hugs.

When he pulled away he placed a kiss on your cheek before making his way to the door. You followed. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, 7?"

"yep." Harry turned to you, "okay, see you then." With that he walked out of the house to his car.

You shut the door letting out a deep breath. He was doing something to you.

The next day, around 7pm you heard a knock on the door. You quickly Walked to the door opening it. On the other side stood Harry. He looked at you and his breath hitched.

You were dressed in a dainy dress with flowers on it.

(I couldn't choose which one so, here)

"hi."

Harry returned back to earth. "Hi." You chuckled. "It's not too much is it?" Harry was quick to shake his head, "no, you look beautiful." You thanked him before you ran back inside to get your bags. On the way you passed your babysitter and your very close friend. "How does he like your outfit?" She asked at a whisper.

"he likes it." She ohhed, "you might have him on your leash now. Good job." She playfully congratulated you causing you to laugh. "Well, we'll see what happens. I gotta go."

She waved goodbye and you walked to the door. Harry was still waiting their but he was talking to Jack. When he saw you, he smiled and stood up.

"hi you two." You said, slipping past Jack. Harry turned to you. "Are you ready to go?" "Yes." You responded.

"okay, well I'll see you later buddy. Gotta to take your Mama out." Jack nodded, "okay, bye." With that Jack Jack shut the door on you both. You scoffed turning to harry, "well that was rude."

Harry chuckled, "very. Now let's go. I have the perfect restaurant for us. He walked over to the passengers side opening the door for you. You grinned walking over to the car, "thank you." You got in and harry shut the door. "No problem."

---

You sat across from harry, your nose deep in the menu you were looking over. Harry had brought you to a nice Moroccan (I'm sick of saying italian) restaurant that selled some great dishes.

"do you know what you're going to get?" Harry asked as he sat his menu down. "Yeah, I'm going to get Kefta tagine." You said hoping it was correct. Harry nodded, "nice, I'm going to get Tangia."

You smiled at him, "I was going to get that but I opted out." You Chuckled lightly as you sat your menu down. "It's very good. I always get it when I come here." You raised your eyebrows, "okay."

The waitress soon came by and took your orders. When they were done Harry turned back to you. "So how have the past few years been for you? I know you had Jack but how has it been for you?" He reached over and took your hand in his. It was a simple gesture that calmed you.

"well it's been hard but I've been enjoying myself. Um I've tried going on vacations, it's always to another city but that's good enough for me. I try my best to have alone time with Jack and go to the spa and the bar, but that's about all I can do."

Harry nodded as he listened. "You're amazing and I want you to know that. And you don't have to keep beating yourself up over not telling me about Jack. I'm here now and it's been the greatest Few days of my life so don't worry about it, everything is going to be fine."

You smiled at Harry. You felt very relaxed around him, it was just the power he had.

You both soon after got your food and began eating. You made conversation with each other easily. Harry talking about tour and you talking about Jack. At the end of the night as you both walked to his car harry couldn't help but wrap his arms around you.

"I had a good time with you." He said looking at you. "I didn't as well. Thank you for inviting me."

You both walked to the passengers side. As you reached out to open the door harry did the same. Your hands touched and you both pulled back at the same time. "Sorry." Harry mumbled. You shook your head, "it's fine" you turned to him seeing him blushing with his hand on his face. You laughed taking his hand, "why are you so shy?" You asked.

Harry looked at you and playful frown on his face. "I'm not..... Maybe." You laughed, some how you felt like a 20 year old girl again. Harry laughed along with you. He took your other hand in his. You looked into his eyes, the ones you loved dearly. Before you could even think right you were kissing harry.

You shuttered, shivers running down your spine as you kissed his soft lips. You felt your body yearning for him like it never had before. Harry let go of your hand and cupped your cheek. It deepened the kiss for the both of you.

Harry felt your little hands tugging at his waist so you didn't lose your balance. Despite wanting to kiss him more you had to pull away for air.

Your forehead rested against his as you both caught your breath. " I've missed your lips." Harry said. "I've missed yours too." You breathed out

Harry sighed, "let's start over. Let's not worry about the pass and just focus on the future."

You opened your shut eyes looking at him. "Okay." Harry mumbled out an okay before placing a light kiss on your lips and pulling away.

The man in that used to be yours was now yours again, and damn it felt nice.

----

Okay, I'm finished, I'm proud too. feedback welcome.

@littlesoldierelleora @big-galaxy-chaos @hazgoldenstyles @tea-spillin-trash @harryisking94 @hashslingingweedslingingslasher @limitedwonder @harryspirate @distinguishednachotale @angelishpersona @captainamerica-is-bae

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurbs #dad! harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot

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camslightstories · 3 years

Text

Tolerate It - Part 12

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: Hey guys! How are you all doing? Well its been a long time since I updated tolerate it and its because I haven't had much inspiration, I been in a literal block, a part from that everything i been writing lately I hate it but I didn't want to let you guys hanging. So thanks to @captain-josslett for checking and helping me in this part.

I love to hear your theories, opinions, suggestions and more so if you have any comments leave on my inbox or message me. I wanna hear what you guys think is going to happen or what you want to happen. But right now I'm not receiving any requests since my inbox is full of them and I don't wanna leave you guys hanging. I hope you guys enjoy, and have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett @aznblossom @venteen @coxmicbabygirl @lezzzbehonesthere

Russian Translations:

Принцесса - Princess

The throbbing pain surges through your body as the cotton full of alcohol touches your wound softly, sending chills through your body. You laid on the white hospital bed in silence as your ex-girlfriend check the ripped wound on your torso.

With the myriad of thoughts and feelings running through your head only to fail, making you groan. Lena glances at you carefully and curiously as you kept quiet, her focus not leaving the ripped wound she was trying to mend. Noticing the different types of scars on your body some of them longer and worse looking.

“Can you tell me how does it feel?” She asks, gulping down when you made no move to speak. With her voice full of worry, she nods and takes her gloves off, only to stop when you spoke loud enough for her to hear.

“It’s fine” You state, keeping your eyes on the ceiling. In a monotone voice, as your heart almost bounced off your chest when she asked.

Clenching your fists, you move to sit only to groan in full pain as the wound touches the shirt cotton. The green-eyed woman immediately runs to your side, with fear. You took a deep breath before helping yourself up ignoring her questioning expression.

The Luthor woman out of desperation yells as tears fill her eyes. Throwing her hands into the air. “Can you at least look me in the eye?! Talk to me!”

“What do you want me to say, Ms. Luthor?” You answered rubbing your temples at the sound of her voice, a neutral tone and expression on your face as you looked at her. Her green eyes full of retained tears and her lip trembles as she looks at you.

She cried, cleaning furiously her tears as you looked at her. The last word came out quieter than the rest, showing a hurting part of herself. “I don't know! Just… please.”

“Ms. Luthor, I don't know what to say to you, nor I know what you wanna hear and I'm sure you don't either.” You answer in a soft yet determined tone as you tried to walk away only for Lena to get in the way crossing her arms as she tried to keep control of her emotions.

“You are just going to walk away?” She remarked loudly, exasperated for an answer. You stopped as you heard the words coming out of her mouth, the obvious distress in them.

“It seems to be the only thing you can do,” She added looking at you in the eye. You shifted uncomfortably before moving past her as fast as you could, ignoring her scoff.

She scoffed as you walked away from her, clenching your fits trying to find control as you felt the urge to yell at the black-haired woman. Now the free-flowing feelings in you have become stronger and harder to restrain.

You press your lips together and clench your jaw when the black-haired woman shouts loudly and desperately at you. “What about the ring?! What did I feel? What about everything?! Because you are here pretending nothing happen”

The smell of the alcohol invaded your nose, as the itching pain on your lower stomach kept throbbing, feelings run around your heart and head openly without any control. The white lights annoy your eyes as you try to focus on something else only to fail. The sneaky feeling tugging at your heart when you heard the break in her voice.

The feeling of conflict as the two sides of yourselves began to fight on how to act, how to feel, how to be normal. One part of you asked you, begged specifically to go and wrap the green-eyed woman in a comforting embrace, protecting her from getting hurt. And the other remained you from all the pain, the anger, the sadness you had resorted to when you left and reminded you how easy life was when there was everything clear with a common goal.

Lena shouted again this time, in an angrier and determinate tone. Stepping closer to you, in her CEO stance but the only difference was the fact that it looked forceful like she was trying so hard to hold it together, you heard her in her voice, in the way her feet hesitated to step closer. And as much as you hated it, it broke you inside. “Y/N! Just tell me something!”

You didn't know, how, when nor why, you turned around facing her with your heart clenching at the sight of her tears springing free. Her eyes looked tired and sorrowful, her cheeks were covered in tears and the ruined makeup, her hands were in a fist that you could tell where a base for self-control. You hated the pain she was revving, you hated the sadness in her eyes, and the tears that sprung freely but never even if you tried you could hate her.

“Just fuck off, dammit!” Your mind seemed to be in automatic mode when the words came out of your mouth. The green-eyed took a step back in shock when you snapped, the now wide-eyed woman made you regret every decision in your life as her eyes restrained hardly the tears she desired to disappear.

Against every fiber in your body, you shocked your head before starting again, glancing at your ex-girlfriend. Cutting the tension you took a deep breath before speaking, gaming Lena’s attention. “Look-”

You weren't even in the middle of what you were going to say when two well-known, familiar voices interrupted you. You tensed as you heard the voice of your sisters, the urge to just walk out and the urge to shout everything out were confronting each other as your mind running with all the different scenarios. “Y/N!”

You kept quiet as your sisters got closer, without hesitation you started to walk away to the run you had been staying only for a familiar blur to stand in front of the door with her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. Hope, happiness, and regret radiated out of her, while Alex stood behind you with a determined look on her face as you turned around to walk the other way.

A part of you wanted to yell at them until there wasn't anything left and the other wanted to walk away leaving everything behind to keep leaving the simple life you had been living for the past 3 years. Lena kept quiet as her mind kept doing rounds of possible explanations, while both of your sisters decided to stand in front of you with nothing but questions. But you remained silent as they did.

Questions such as “Why do you have so many scars?” “What is the tattoo on your chest?” “What do you mean of the Bratva?” “Why were you with Roulette the other night?” were thrown at you by your older sisters as you tried to ignore each one, only for them to keep pressing.

Lena had stayed in the same place, as they interrogated you. The black-haired woman somehow noticed the way your patience was getting closer to the end when you clenched your fit with so much force that the veins on your arms started to show slowly.

“Don't you think we deserve an explanation?” Kara asked, taking a step closer, which made you clench your jaw, the feelings running around your body screamed at you as the pain and anger started to build by second.

The feeling of anger and betrayal under all of those layers you tried to put up, under what you thought it would make you okay, it would make the pain go away, the memories, the feelings, everything...

Your oldest sister yelled, getting frustrated by the minute. “Feel free to fill up the blanks, but it seems that you are not going to do that are you?” The redhead asks sarcastically, covering somehow the relief of how you were but adding the worry of what had happened in the last few years.

When you didn't respond, ignoring the redhead. Your sister hits the table with her fists showing her frustration. Kara looked back where Alex stood with both of her hands on the table as she looked at you angrily. You stared at her, challenging the redhead, making Lena furrow her eyes when she noticed Alex walking back where Kara stood in front of you letting out a scoff.

“Don't you think we as your family don't deserve to know?” Kara asked with sorrow in her eyes and voice. Tears swelling up in her eyes as she searched in your eyes for any sign of her baby sister finding none but a challenging glare to the redhead and her now.

You felt everything come out, and you were seeing red. As you were about to snap, a strong familiar voice shouted in determination stopping you.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Your clenched jaw and fists kept the pressure making your vivid expression and reaction be acknowledged by all of them.

Oliver had been standing with Anatoly catching sight of the interaction between you and your sisters. The blonde man remembers vividly how going back the emptiness, the feeling of just wanting the pain to get away, the angriness at the world, every single detail. Seeing the mark on your chest, oblivious to outsiders but obvious to him, a torturous feeling in your chest as you tried to keep yourself in the corner, in the darkness, where you knew not to expect anything.

He saw the expression in your face, the way your eyebrows knitted together, the way your hands were converted into fists drawing blood at the pressure, the way you clenched your jaw, trying to keep control, the way your eyes were painted deep down with suffering but were void and incomprehensible on the outside, the way you tried to distance yourself into the darkness feeling the only calmness there, the way every time your fists hit something were not in act of defense or attack but in letting your hidden feelings out.

The way you tried to keep control, of yourself, of your feelings, of the world around you, of the memories, of everything but you, felt powerless in the darkness. Feeling the need to yell and run away from everything, to isolate yourself from the world, believing and trusting in yourself and only trying to keep everything inside.

“Принцесса, I see you finally decided to escort somebody” Your focus immediately went to the Russian man when he spoke, walking closer to you with a black garment suit bag in his right hand. Holding it up, as you make your way to grab it. His teasing voice made you roll your eyes while snatching the bag out of his hands.

Smiling at Lena and your sisters, the man walked closer to them as he spoke. Making you sighed in annoyance, while Oliver suppressed a smile. Lena looked at the man in the suit and took his hand with a firm handshake, Kara and Alex following to do the same as he presented himself. “Anatoly Knyazev, at your service. Принцесса friend”

“Work partner, if you don't have vodka or I don't have the green light with your new friend and I'm not courting anyone” You corrected giving him an annoying look, he shook his head when you hissed irritated.

The Russian man grinned at you before shaking his head as he spoke. “Roulette is not our business associate anymore, too ambitious and mercenary for her own good”

“Nice, then friend. I'm gonna go change, and I can solve a certain complication” You grinned sheepishly, which made Oliver sighed while your sisters and your ex-girlfriend looked at you curiously.

The Queen man waited for you to be out of hearing sight to speak “This isn't helping”

Anatoly kept quiet as he sat on the sofa, while Oliver spoke. Lena and your sisters stood in front of him, each one of them with expressions of annoyance and worry.

The blonde man took a step back, crossing his arms as he tried to reason with them before either of the three could respond. "I get it you guys want answers, but right now she needs to let herself be vulnerable again, she needs to feel safe, to feel she isn't in the darkness anymore and neither you nor I know what she went through and it's not going to help if you guys keep pressuring her”

The explanation had left the three feeling uneasy

“You do not get to tell me how to treat my sisters, Queen.” Alex spits at the vigilante. Lena and Kara try to calm the redhead down but your voice stops them.

“Let’s go” You enter the room and sensing the tension between the two, but you ignore it and walk to where the Russian man sits. Catching the attention of the group of four turning around to see you grabbing the gun from the shelf putting it behind the jacket you carried.

Alex didn't think twice before running up to you grabbing you by the upper arm, holding you back when you tried to get out of her grasp. Oliver sighed as you spoke, your eyes connected yours and hers in a glance, the staredown between the two created a visible tension. “Alexandra, let me go”

Tilting your head when Kara stepped in to put her hand on your oldest sister's shoulder, looking between the two before walking away with the Russian man by your side.

----

Entering the car shop you notice the obvious and threatening silence. Letting out a sarcastic sigh when you heard the sudden movement behind the next wall, the sound of the gun clicking, and the pushing from the same source. You looked at the Russian man before shaking your head to the side, taking out your gun.

Walking down the stairs you felt the end of the arm on the back of your head, and a hand topping your mouth. You kept in place for a second, raising your arms, before flipping the person down the stairs, keeping the gun in your hand before discharging it and throwing it away.

You walked down the stairs before shooting at the man on his thigh when the other two came out. You rolled your eyes when the two guys pulled their guns at you but were thrown to the side when an arrow hit them. Noticing the green arrow you sighed in annoyance before continuing.

“Leave it alone” Anatoly who sat on the chair waiting for you to be done, looked over to the group of four noticing your sisters and ex-girlfriend's expression of shock, while Oliver made his way to you. Noticing the man behind you, you spoke threateningly at him, before turning around.

----

The tall brunette guy who was now with a black eye and a busted lip, as you kept your hold on his throat. You murmured when the guy kept silent. “Okay then it's the hard way”

Pushing him down before shooting him, you looked over to the black-haired man staring at you with wide eyes. You walked where he was before lowering to the floor having the same eye contact, you looked at him and recognized the immediate fear before speaking. “Taking a wild guess, I'm gonna say you don’t wanna end up like those two, do you?”

The man without thinking shook his head, which made you let out a sarcastic laugh tilting your head at him before helping him up. “Okay, then where is Roulette?”

“I don't know, I don't know” He kept sputtering and shaking his head.

“She left this morning and left us here with the order to keep watch on someone” When you took a step closer to the guy, making him speak which made you look at him curiously before pushing him to the wall.

“On who?” You asked.

“Her, Lena Luthor” He responded, whispering only for you to hear, looking over where your ex-girlfriend stood.

A switch had changed and in seconds you felt everything come out, the rage, the pain, and in seconds you were seeing red. The calm, determined dementor had changed to an angry, protective one. A sudden outburst was what you had.

Moving your arm, pinning the man onto the wall with anger, you spoke eagerly and unease, threatening. Rage in your eyes, as you claimed to press harder into his chest, making the man cough in pain. “You tell Roulette that if she even thinks of breathing the same air in a 200 miles area as Ms. Luthor then I would make her life a living hell and everyone who is with her too”

Kara, who was listening in, smiled softly before looking down. The outburst had shown your care for her best friend, and that was a baby step that meant more than anything. The fact that you snapped at the moment your ex-girlfriend began mentioning showed that maybe it wasn't lost at all.

Your oldest sister looked at Kara curiously, before giving her a shoulder bump, giving her a questioning glance while your sister responded with a silent glance to you and a smile.

You pulled away from the man, giving him a second to breathe before striking your fist right at his jaw. Immediately knocking him down, the sound of the body plumb into the floor made you realize what just had happened, the myriad of feelings flowing through your mind were taken out the moment an arrow grazed your cheek and the soreness of your knuckles were now bothering you.

Looking behind you, identifying the red arrow, you let out a laugh before taking it out of the wall, throwing it to the side before turning around, softly moving your hand trying to relieve the ache. Oliver seemed to have caught up with the situation as he grabbed the arrow letting out a sigh.

“Still doing the same?” You shouted turning around where Thea stood on the top of the car with her bow in hand and black leather jacket on. A smirk on her face as the brunette jumped landing on the floor perfectly before making her way to you.

“I see you hadn't left the throne, princess” She claimed, teasing the last word. The two of you sharing a silent glance, when she came down. The small spark in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by you and neither by Oliver.

“And you are not so intimidating, princess” You flirted with the brunette, cleaning the small substance of blood coming out of the graze on your cheek with a teasing smile.

Lena knew the tone you were using, the smile you gave her, the little spark in your voice and eyes as you did. You were flirting with her, the jealousy feeling creeping inside her chest as she noticed. Drawing daggers in the brunettes back, she stood straight pulling out her CEO stand and expression, even if she felt her heart begin twisted remembering the once she was the one receiving the smile, the glance, the tone, everything. And she hoped that one day you would do it again.

#lena luthor #alex danvers x reader #lena luthor x reader #kara danvers x reader #baby danvers #supergirl imagine

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nctzanne · 3 years

Text

Your Last Name

♡ doctor!mark x fem!Reader.♡ smut, fluff if you use glasses

WARNINGS!: use of alcohol and drugs, explicit content, not sex but mentions of it.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: I just want you to give it a try and read it AAAH

𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡?: no, an idea i've had since i started stanning NCT

𝐴𝑛𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡𝑠 & 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠: As i said above, this is an idea I've had for sOOOOOO many months, so I really wanted it to make it happen. It was on my drafts for a long time. Thank you so so much if you take the time to read this.

You noticed when your mind woke up suddenly, but without opening your eyes, slowly bringing you back to reality. You tasted your own mouth dry as a bone, with a metalic flavor on it, typical scenario when we talk about hangovers. The headache that invaded you so suddenly made you grab your forehead, almost if you brain was going to explode right there. The smell of fermentation on the room -or wherever you were- made you nauseous, so you stayed still to avoid vomiting everything you consumed the night before. A light breathing woke you up from your trance and inner speech, you could even feel the warmth of it on your shoulder. That's when you realize you were not alone, totally opposite of that, you were cornered by arms twice your size, avoiding you to move on the super duper comfortable position you were in. You still didn't want to open your eyes to notice who the lucky guy was, but you could smell the hints of tequila on his breath. When that hit your nose, you turned around abruptly by instinct, trying to avoid the smell. You opened my eyes a little, just to be able to locate yourself in space-time.

A room hotel, there's where you were. White walls reflected the light that came from outside of the giant windows, making you cover your eyes with the hand that wasn't under the grip of this unknown guy. Once your eyes get used to the light, you remembered that you were at Bora-Bora for vacations with your best friend. You can hear the eagles screaming way too loud for your irritable state, but just noticing where you were made you feel more calmed. "At least I'm here and they didn't kidnap me" You thought, finally grabbing the courage to turn around and see who exactly was the guy that had a night of passion with you.

"Sure, shit"

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

-Wait, repeat it to me, who did you meet? -You asked incredulously, looking at how your friend Rosé was overflowing with emotion and nervousness.

-Do you know this famous band?- She told you a name that you couldn't identify, you automatically shake your head-Anyways, while I was waiting for you on the beach I met with Jaehyun, the bass player, we talked a little and he invited us for a few drinks with his friends!- She talked so fast that you had a hard time processing all the information that was given to you.

-And that's it, a random guy talks to you and you say yes?. He could be a serial killer-

-Ah c'moooon, he's a superstar, it will be funn!!!-

So, a not so official date with guys from a band. Sure, excellent idea.

-Okay, are they handsome at least?- You asked with disinterest

-You can't imagine, y/n, so prepare yourself as well as possible, they will fall for you- she approached the small bridge that united your cabins in the middle of the sea, while she blowed you a flirtatious kiss.

You just laughed and walked towards the windows, admiring the sea. You were literally in paradise, your bedrooms floated above the ocean, the white sand was not so far from where you were staying in, and the horizon was clearer than ever. How lucky you were to have a friend who helped you get over your breakups with a very casual trip to Bora Bora at the Four Seasons hotel. Loneliness invaded you for a second and you decided to get ready for the long-awaited meeting that you would have with her friends.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

A white beach dress with pink heels and your tan is enough, with the right makeup obviously. It was already 7 pm and your nervous friend looked at her cell phone while texting with someone

-Is it him?- You ask, trying to peek behind her shoulder to see if you could figure out what they're talking about.

-Yes, he is telling me he's here at the bar but he doesn't see us-

-Of course, we are sitting, let me raise my hand- and so you did it.

-Here!!!!- Your friend screams in excitement when she sees 3 tall figures approaching to you. They seemed to walk on a slow pace, almost like the came out of a movie. And yes, your heart almost stopped for a good 10 seconds. Three guys, my gosh, models? What were they again?. God definitely had preferences for some human beings.

The fact that they aere so handsome and well… structured made you blush. Jaehyun, Johnny and ...

-Mark, nice to meet you- the youngest of the 3 of them greeted me, with a dazzling smile that makes his dimples appear. You bit your lip and studied his entire face so that you would never forget him again. -y/n, nice to meet you too-

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

Nothing more and nothing less than Mark Lee himself. His makeup was completely smeared, traces of mascara under his closed eyes. His forehead and nose were reflecting the daylight a bit. It was a hot morning (or evening), and having you next to his body was obviously going to make him sweat. His open, broken lips gave off that smell of alcohol that made you sick. But despite of everything, your sight softened after a couple of seconds. He was sleeping so peacefully, and he was clinging to you like his life depended on it, so you couldn't help but smile.

-Mark... wake up- you whispered softly while you tried to get up.

-Hmmmh, what time is it?- his morning voice made my stomach tingle a bit, your sight never leaving his figure while he starts waking up.

He squinted while he sit up in bed slowly, ruffling his own hair. It was obvious that he was in the same blank state you were a few minutes ago, and you could tell by how he confusingly looked around at the room, until his eyes reached at you. His face expression softened, giving you a shy smile.

-Do you need some clothes?- he asked, blushing when he studied your naked torso with lazy eyes. You realized that you both were entirely naked, and you rushed to cover your breasts with your arms, just to earn a pure laugh from him, that made your head resonate in pain.

-We fucked, y/n, no need to hide- Mark put all his weight on his left elbow, getting closer to you while tilting his face flirtatiously. That made you cheeks go red as ever.

-Yes, but I don't remember anything so your point is automatically invalid- His body hovered yours so fast that you couldn't even process what was happening, until he pecked your lips.

-I remember everything, so I will refresh your memory-

You burst out laughing while he deposited soft pecks all over your face. The situation was so sweet, but it didn't make you feel uncomfortable at all. He interrumpted his love actions and looked at you hungrily.

-Mark, I barely can keep myself awake, i feel like I'm going to puke...-You warned him, reading his intentions.

-Okay okay- he looked down defeated- At least, can we cuddle a bit more? I promise I can make the hangover feel better- He tangled his legs and arms to your body, resting his face on your collarbones.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

Everything on that evening was talking about the mortality of a crab. Basics like where you were from, what do you do for a living and relationship status open the conversation.

Your attention was drawn to Mark when he started to introduce himself. As a Medicine student, he decided with his 2 best friends that were part of a band to go on a trip to relax due to the busy schedules that consumes their time. The three live together on a small apartment in Korea, where the rent is expensive so they can make it more affordable.

Bora-bora was the destination of their choice. It seems that the band called NCT 127 draw lot of attention from crazy fans who followed them EVERYWHERE, so an expensive place like so would be easier to have a time for them on their own.

Mark spoke always adding "like" between his words, he liked to lay back when he was sipping on his piña colada, but got closer to the table when you talked about your experience as a journalist.

He tried so hard to show interest on a topic he had no idea about, that his questions were kinda clueless, but it was obvious that it was his way to not cut the attraction and chat between you and him. It was a sexual tension you could feel by kilometers, every gaze you had was followed by a shy smile, and you felt tingles on your body everytime you had a bit of interaction.

-Do you guys do shots?- Rosé interrumpted the conversation, scanning the boys reaction.

-I mean, that's why we are here- Johnny combed his hair backwards, already feeling heated by the 2 gin tonics he drank in 15 minutes. I couldn't deny, him on a tight black shirt looked hot as fuck, I could notice how Rosé was drooling for him- Excuse me, maa'am- he raised his hand, calling the waitress- 3 rounds of shots please!-

-Man, we had 2 yesterday and you almost puked on the sea, go easyyyy- you could notice the tipsy state from Jaehyun as well. His eyes were almost closed on a thin line and his dorky smile betrayed him. Mark laughed out loud, first time in the night you heard him like that, with his cheeks tinted red. He took a big sip of his piña colada, looking at you directly at the eyes. Actually, you didnt noticed till that moment, but your legs started to feel a bit numb. Quite usual for you when the alcohol gets up on your head.

-I'm in!- you answer to Johnny's idea. Once the blue shots arrive, you quickly grab one.

-Cheers for this night to be special- he screams with a deep voice, and the other 2 guys howl as response while you burst out laughing.

When you decided that the amount of alcohol on your body was enough, you took a chance to go to the beach to sing and dance to the DJ placed randomly in there.

You felt bliss, the EDM music was filling your senses, but you tried to keep your eyes full opened so you could remember the beautiful but blurry view of the sunset.

Together with your new group of friends were a mess. Jumping, screaming, raising your hands like you could touch the sky, everything seemed possible at that moment. Even dancing and getting laid with Mark.

The music had nothing to do with your plan, but you got dangerously close to him, resting your arms on his shoulders. You could see that he chuckled, tilting his head back so he could see you fully. Both of you were drunk as hell, you thought you were killing it with the flirting skills, but probably you just looked like two fools trying not to fall for the obvious drunken state you were.

-Do you wanna kiss me?- you screamed while "Jenny" sounded on the speakers. What kind of question is that?

-Sure I do- his canadian accent made you bite your lip while smiling- Can I?- his voice tried to mimic yours, but you didnt answered, it wasnt necessary.

Your lips collided as you got close at the same time, and Mark wasted no time to open his mouth and let his tongue in your wet cavity. You moaned so loud, because you knew no one could hear it but him. A fierce fight between both of your tongues started, every graze of them would make yourself wetter and wetter. He squeezed your waist and tried to keep you closer to him if it was possible, in his drunk mind he was scared you could run away from him.

Nothing about the context was romantic at all. You both physically liked eachother and just wanted to make out. No love at first sight, no kiss with fireworks behind, just pure desire.

Adrenaline rushed your body when his hands cupped your ass, that was only covered by the thin dress you decided to wear. Nobody near you could care less about what you two were doing it, but for you, everyone was looking at the show you and Mark were offering, and that obviously turned you on.

You bit Mark's lower lip, sucked on it, while opening your eyes to look directly at him. Eyes closed, he was enjoying how you toyed his lips. The hard grip on your skin, and a bulge poking your stomach made you feel powerful, you were loving the effect you caused on him.

Suddenly, an arm made you break your kiss with Mark. You lose your balance so you hug the guy that was pulling you backwards. Johnny.

-Hey, pornstars, we have some nice shit here- he pointed his hand with his eyes. You could see a tiny bag with a white dust inside. You come to your senses and look around at the crowd to try find Rosé, but it was obvious she already was under the influence. She was on Jaehyun's shoulders, enjoying the music. You sigh, chuckling at the sight of her losing her mind.

-Its my first time though- you commented while you look at Johnny spreading the dust on top of his phone screen with one hand using a credit card. You could notice he was an expert at it, you peek to see Mark right by your side looking at the manouvers as hypnotized as you. Probably it was his first time too.

You both snorted the little substance, and it sucked at first. It was so uncomfortable, but it took minutes for you to get used to that weird sensation on your nose.

You didnt even noticed when everything started to amplify. You could feel the summer breeze making its way around you, the taste of Mark's saliva still on your tongue was strong, the colorful tins of the sky while it was dusking looked so enhanced.

A hand grabbed yours, taking you out of your trance, and almost felt like an orgasm. So warm and so soft, made you wanna scream. You turned to see a fucked out Mark, studying your face with dilated pupils, he was almost as horny as you by only grabbing hands.

He caressed yours with his thumb, and it felt like he was fucking you, your body shivered at it. Mark was enjoying it too, so he brought your fingers closer to his mouth and inserted the index one inside, and started to suck on it. You moaned and felt how your pussy clenched at nothing, the saliva coating your finger felt like caramel, if you could explain the feeling.

-Mark if you keep doing that i'm gonna cum- you told him with a warning tone, he was so inmersed on sucking your finger that he jumped when you talked. He was aroused by the situation too.

He smiled with your finger still inside of his mouth, took it out, holded you by your wrist and started to run towards...

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

-And we ended up here- Mark sumed up the night while you were laying on his chest, caressing it with the tip on your fingers. His, on the other hand, were playing with the locks of your hair.

-Yeah, i remember now, such a night- and then you snapped- Wait... where the fuck is...-

-Yeah, she was having a threesome with the boys. Dont worry, she was having a good time-Mark answered with a playful tone. Of course, that sounds like a very Rosé thing to do. You let out a breathy laugh.

-We could have joined...- you suggested, looking up at him. He took a few seconds to answer, while his eyes moved from one corner to the other of the ceiling, like he was evaluating that scenario.

-Yeah, and sharing? No thanks- he bit his lip and he looked at you with a greedy smile- I felt so lucky to have you screaming my name over and over-

You hit his shoulder with your fist playfully, and he took that as an answer to keep silent and just enjoy the company of the other.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

2 days went by, you get used to hang out with the boys. All kinds of crazy stuff you could imagine, you were doing it with them, and it felt like heaven. Mark couldnt keep his hands to himself and everytime he had the opportunity, he would make you cum on his fingers or mouth. And the same goes for you, too. Thanks to him, you noticed how good you are at giving blowjobs inside public restrooms.

But nothing lasts forever, sadly, and the last day of your summer vacation arrived. Rosé and you were ready to go back to Seoul, while they would be staying a little bit longer. It hurted, you got used to Mark's attention, and either him or you wanted to ask for eachothers contact. Not because of lack of interest, but because both of you thought that the other saw it as an adventure. You didn't even knew his last name.

His lips devours yours before you could get in the car that was waiting for you on the street -I wont forget you, thanks for this amazing 3 days- he smiled, a tint of sadness on his eyes. You caressed his cheek, pecking his nose, trying to hurry as much as you coulf so you wouldnt start to feel emotional.

-Y/l/n-

He looked at you clueless -What?-

-My last name is y/l/n- you smiled and without waiting for an answer, you close the door of the car.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

-Hey, hey, it's okay- typical of Rosé being so overdramatic. Sure, your finger almost got cut in half while you were trying to cook some carbonara, but it wasnt a big deal, something a few stitches couldn't fix. The only thing that kept your finger from gushing blood out was a piece of toilet paper.

-Please! My friend needs a doctor!!!!- She screamed at the top of her lungs inside the hospital.

-What happened?- a nurse hurried, worried eyes scanning you both.

-She is losing her finger!!!!- Rosé felt she was going to faint.

-Jesus, Rosé, calm down-

The nurse takes a quick look at your finger- Yeah it doesn't look that good, please follow me. You are lucky we don't have that many patients on New Years Eve-

You are guided to a tiny room full of medical stuff, probably where you are going to get your finger sticked together. It hurted as fuck, but you were trying to keep focused on something other than the pain. You looked at the desk with the computer on, and on a hidden corner you noticed a picture of 3 friends, on a place that seemed too familiar to you. Actually, the friends also seemed like an old ones you had... maybe in university? You can't quite remember.

The door opened up while you were trying to dig into your memories , and you looked at the door startled.

-So, Mrs y/n...- that voice, that motherfucking voice. A year has passed. But how the fuck you were supposed to forget it?. You felt your ears buzzing, face heating and heartbeat racing. You were losing your breath and suddenly the pain of your finger got worst and worst.

He didn't turn to look at you, just got inside by looking at his phone, and once he was sit in front of you, his facial expression dropped.

There were the both of you, looking at eachother like dumb teenagers, like your finger wasnt bleeding out, almost like you were backat that bar in Bora-bora again.

-I... uh... yeah, my finger- you stutter, pointing at it. Mark shakes his head, coming back at his professional senses.

Before the medical procedure he performed, he bandaged your finger, and wrote some medicine you had to take for the pain to go away.

-It should be okay on a few weeks, nothing to worry about- he smiled at you, trying to comfort you. You felt your heart drop when he grabbed the healthy of both of your hands and caressed your palm with his thumb, everything felt like a flashback. You looked at him with clueless eyes.

-I... uh... I should come back in a few weeks then- you stuttered, pressing your lips into a thin line while looking at him directly on his eyes. He nods.

-Lee-

You frowned -Huh?-

-My last name is Lee-

#nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenario #nct scenario #nct smut #mark lee #mark lee scenario #mark lee smut #mark lee imagines #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kpop imagines

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on-a-lucky-tide · 3 years

Note

Rawr, I liked the visuals of what we ve seen of Kaer Morhen so far, but something about the Death Tree bothers me. I understand the concept if wanting to remember fallen Witchers but what about the trainees that died during the Trials or training ? That s a large part of Witcher trauma.

Non, I apologise in advance for the incoming reflection. You unleashed a beast. Before I decided to enter the... uh, rewarding career of teaching, I had written a master's thesis on the construction of the hero and how it changed between the nineteenth and twentieth centuries as a follow up to my dissertation (I never got to do it, because I'm working class af and couldn't reasonably afford it). But, anyway, why is this relevant, you might ask? Well, it's to do with who this tree memorialises and some of the interesting parallels I've been mulling over recently.

For me, the Witchers are an allegory for many things, but thinking about Sapkowski's background, it struck me that he could be drawing influences from soldiers lost during the conflicts of the twentieth century. Young men snatched from all walks of life, turned into weapons, equipped with the shittiest guns and defences (I'll never forget learning that French soldiers in WW1 initially wore red hats with blue jackets...) and then thrown out to die. And the people that took the heaviest hit? The poor. It's always the poor.

Who are the Witchers before they're mutated? They're orphans, urchins, the unwanted. Geralt and Ciri? They're one in a million. Most Witchers would be like Eskel or Lambert; impoverished kids taken from their villages. You don't see lords and kings sending their children to become witchers. It's too dangerous. But the poor? Well, they don't matter. Send them in droves. Send them to suffer and die.

The poor only become worth something through sacrifice. Time, their health, their finances, their lives. They become heroes--worthy of memorialisation and praise--when they have made that sacrifice.

But surely the Witchers--poor themselves--would remember the children? No. They might recall their faces, perhaps, but after a while they blur into one. So many die, it's easier on the soul to let them slip away. If you get hung up on that then nothing will ever get done. Perhaps that's why they tell themselves they don't feel. It's the only way they can put the trauma behind them (or think they have), and they don't want the reminder.

On top of that, you have the indoctrination of the mages--members of the ruling classes through birth, luck and/or education--telling them that the strong survive, that only the weak perish (like how the government turn their citizens against those that require benefits, aid, support, anyone?) They have made themselves worthy by sacrificing their humanity. Transformed from something less than dirt to a Witcher. (Not quite a hero in their own context, but the parallels with a heroic soldier and how they are used and thrown away? It's there).

But what happens when they go out into the world? They're reviled and shunned. They're only useful when they're fighting--dying--and beyond that, no one's interested. No one will remember them after they're gone. Not even their names.

Throw that all together and you get the Witchers memorialising their fallen themselves. Like fellow soldiers memorialise each other with their dog tags. They don't have a family to speak of, just the brotherhood, so that's where their dogs tags go. The rest of the world forgets about them. But the Witchers don't.

This is very much 'death of the author' here. My private reflections when trying to rationalise an odd design choice. Did LH consider anything like this? Probably not. She didn't even consider the logic of a brotherhood of practical, diehard survivalists leaving a damn hole in their roof. Subzero temperatures in a mountainous biome? Constantly having to restock fuel in blizzards because we're burning through it to stay warm? Nah.

It should have been placed elsewhere too. I bet that damn thing has more piss, vomit and beer stains on it than anything else in the castle...

#rawrkinanswers #Anonymous #headcanons #death tree

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

Text

Unexpected Places (Pt. 04 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (03)

Next part (05) ->

{Vikings Masterlist}

Fit For a Princess

You're listening to the chattering between Aslaug and Helga, looking at pieces of jewelry at the market place. You say something every now and then, but you can't shake away Ivar's stare. On the last days, two weeks or so, he's right there, sitting across from you on every meal, eyes burning through you. Hvitserk said he's studying you, still expecting you to snap, to decide you had enough of all this and want to go back home. To Wessex, where your older brother now rules. And Ragnar already said he'd take you back if you wanted, so there's that.

But leaving Kattegat hasn't even crossed your mind, not before and not now. How could you trade all you have here, and slide back into the invisible chains you had on? It wouldn't be just stupid, it would be the death of you. You're finally understanding who you are, the things you like, the kind of people you like. In England, you had to play a specific role, because everything was political. Here, you're just who you are. And you do what you want to do. This is true freedom.

“I really like this one,” Helga says, as your eyes wander through the many rings, earrings, and necklaces. “I'd like those two as well.” She continues as you pace around, further away from both women, turning the corner and then walking to another store. The pieces they have here are all made of metal, delicately bent into beautiful shapes. You caress a bracelet with the tip of your fingers, wondering if it'd look good on you.

“Don't waste your time with these cheap things.” The voice, that you now recognize immediately, makes you turn around. Ivar comes from among the people, only stopping when he's standing next to you.

But despite his attention being on the jewelry, your eyes are on him. “You're tall.” It comes out suddenly, because he never stood beside you like this, so you couldn't have noticed.

“Well, you're tiny.” Ivar glances at you, playing with one of the rings. “Anyway, you shouldn't be looking at these things. They won't suit you very well.”

Giving the old man an apologetic look, you randomly pick a bracelet. You don't get why Ivar is being rude, but, judging by what Hvitserk had told you, his brother isn't one to hold back. He says what he thinks, it doesn't matter how mean it may sound to others. You're still trying to figure out if this level of brutal honesty is good or bad. “I really like this one.” Searching on the small bag attached to your dress, you take four coins, way more than what the bracelet is worth, handing it over to the man and putting the bracelet on. The silver color is beautiful, and the drawings carved on it remind you of the pattern you saw on one of the boats that brought you here.

Ivar rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, sighing. “You are such a kind princess.” Dropping the ring, he starts walking side by side with you when you set in motion through the market. You weren't expecting that.

“King Ecbert was king of Wessex. This isn't Wessex.”

“(Y/N)! Wait for us.” Aslaug calls and you stop, giving her a look and a nod before turning to face Ivar, who towers over you.

“Therefore, I'm not a princess anymore.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give him a small smile.

“That's a shame, isn't it?” He lowers his voice, leaning closer.

“Not really.” Shrugging your shoulders, you give a little step back, putting a strand of hair behind your ears before giving him a little wave, walking back to where both women are.

After they're done shopping, as you walk back home, the clouds push themselves apart just enough for the sunlight to appear. That makes you stop, taking in the warmth on your skin, but it soon disappears.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Hvitserk calls, coming from the beach with his father, Ubbe and Bjorn, who's walking behind them. “We're going to meet some traders. Wanna come?”

“Why not?” You mumble, elbowing Hvitserk when he's close enough.

“Go put on some pants then. We're riding there.”

“Oh.” It's so absurd it's stupid, how you can't seem to do the simple things people know by heart here. “I'm not very good at riding.” Whispering, you tell him, not wanting anyone else to listen.

“I'll help you out.” He nods, tilting his head to where Bjorn is. “Without cracking your head open in the process.”

Smiling you nod before heading inside to change out of the dress. You're just about to head out when Aslaug tells you to grab a cloak in case it rains later, so you have to make another trip to your room. But soon enough you meet Hvitserk and the others again, reading the horses.

“Which one is mine?”

“Over here.” Hviserk guides to a beautiful white horse. “Give me your leg.” He says, and for a moment you furrow your eyebrows, but soon enough you understand what he means. Raising your leg, Hvitserk grabs your calf and you push yourself up, successfully mounting on the horse with his help. It feels funny to be this tall. You have ridden before, but most of the time you used a carriage. There was no need for a princess to ride on the back of a horse at Wessex. It's wild though, and you've grown to love wild things. “Keep your feet like this on the stirrups at all times. Don't put of your feet all the way in or it might get stuck if you fall. If you touch her with your ankles, she'll move forward. Pull the halters and she'll stop. The same thing goes to pull her left or right, but since we'll ride together she'll just follow the other horses.”

“Got it.”

“Your ass might hurt at the end of the day, so be prepared.” He warns before jumping to the back of his horse. “If it'll help you feel more steady, you can hold on the saddle, but trust me, you'll get the hang of it once you lose the fear of falling.”

“Have you ever fallen from a horse before?” As you speak, the small group starts moving, and your mare does the same, keeping their pace, slow at first until everyone starts galloping, and all air leaves your lungs. You hold tightly to the saddle, scared at first, but you remember what Hvitserk just told you. If you let the fear of falling win, you'll never learn to ride properly, and you'll never enjoy it. Slowly, you let go of the saddle, holding only on the halters, making sure it's loose so she'll feel free to run.

And the sensation is amazing. The wind makes your hair whip your face over and over, and you lightly shake your head to get rid of it. Glancing at Hvitserk, you mirror his position, a smile creeping over your lips. The landscape, green, blue, and gray, passes by in a blur, and you try to take it all in. It's beautiful, breathtaking. Almost literally, because when you finally stop, you're struggling to catch your breath.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” You answer, and Hvitserk nods before moving to stand next to his father and brother. You see a small troop approaching, riding up the hill.

“You're quite good at this,” Bjorn says, guiding his horse away from his siblings and near you. “A few more lessons you'll be riding like a true Viking.”

“I really like it. Its... Thrilling.” You're finally calming down, and your thighs ache a little bit.

“Wanna see the traders coming?” Turning his horse around, he gestures at a cliff, not too many miles away. “We could go up there, it'll give us a nice view.”

“Isn't it a little high?”

“The horses are used to it. C'mon.” Without waiting for your answer, he starts galloping away.

Glancing at Hvitserk, you hold the halter tightly to keep the mare from moving. “You think I should?”

“Sure, it has a nice view. But if you feel like the trail there is too much you come back here, alright? The horses are used to it but you're not.”

“Alright.” Touching the mare with your ankles, you loose the halter and she immediately moves, following Bjorn's horse. It doesn't take much until you're deep inside the woods, the horses now trotting. Bjorn keeps silent, giving you a few glances since you're slightly behind him.

“That way.” He says, and you just let your ride follow his. The smooth ground soon starts changing, with more rocks, and becomes unravel. When you see a steep slope, with apparently nothing to hold on to, you pull the halters, making the mare stop.

“I think it's too craggy.” You speak up, getting Bjorn's attention. “I don't want to fall on my first try.”

“She's used to this kind of inclination. You'll be fine.”

Considering it and also what Hvitserk said, you decide to leave the cliff viewing for another day, when you feel more secure on the horse. “I think I'll pass, Bjorn. Maybe another cliff where I can go on foot.”

“Don't be a pussy. It's not that craggy.” Then, he kicks his horse hard and it sets in motion. It doesn't surprise you, but when the mare moves as well, following him, you're startled, and in the sudden change, you let the halter fall.

Holding on the sell, you can only watch as Bjorn's horse easily climbs the slope, at a fast pace, and yours do the same. But when it suddenly turns left, around a huge rock, you lose your balance, and since there's nothing to hold on to, both your feet escape the stirrups, and you're pulled to the ground hard. Losing your breath, a sting on your ankle makes you yelp as you roll down the slope, only stopping once the ground is flat again. Rolling on your back, you take deep breaths, trying not to move the left leg since the pain is spreading through your foot and calf. “Damn it!” You exclaim, removing the hair from your face.

“(Y/N)!” It takes only a few seconds until you see Bjorn kneeling by your side. “Are you alright?”

“I just fell from a horse and rolled down a hill!” You speak fast, the pain on your back making itself aware. “Of course I'm not fine!”

“Let me take you–” He says as he starts to pull you up.

“No.” You cut him off, slapping his hands away. Bjorn has done enough for today. If he wasn't trying to be a freaking show-off, this wouldn't have happened. “Go get–”

“(Y/N)?” You hear his voice and breathes out relief. “I heard a yell.”

“Over here. Lying on the ground.” Annoyed, you cover your eyes with both hands. “Can you please see if my ankle is broken?”

“What happened?” He asks in a low voice, and you uncover your eyes to see him jumping to the ground, kneeling next to your stretched out leg.

“Bjorn made his horse bolt up the slope and mine followed.” You explain, giving him a hard glance, groaning when Hvitserk lifts your leg to remove your boot. “Easy there!”

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “But calm down, it's not broken, just sprained.”

“Shit.” Taking a deep breath, you sit up taking off the other boot as well and throwing it at Bjorn. “You can't keep yourself from getting me hurt, can you?”

“Me? Everything you had to do was hold on. The horse–”

“I'm not a Viking!” Bursting out, you look up at him. “I'm not some shieldmaiden, I'm still trying to fit in here and learn things. You can't expect me to follow your pace.”

“I just–”

“Bjorn, you should get back. Help father with the traders, I'll take her back to Kattegat.” Hvitserk interrupts him, and Bjorn leaves after a grunt, saying something you couldn't understand.

“And he thinks he has the right to be pissed!” Lying back down, you groan. “I think this is a sign to stay away from him. Every time he's in the situation, I get hurt.”

“Alright, c'mon.” Hvitserk pulls your arm until you're seated again. “You need to put some ice on this ankle, let's go.” Hvitserk takes your mare first, tying her up with his horse before mounting and pulling you up to ride with him.

Despite the slow pace he keeps, your back still hurts. Resting your head on his back, you sigh. “Why are you so quiet?” You ask after a while.

“I'm thinking about the right words to tell this to mother. She won't be happy.” He answers, a hand resting on his thigh as the other holds the halter. “She's not very fond of Bjorn already.”

“It was partially my fault too, I think. I let the halter slip and had nothing to hold on to.”

“You're know Bjorn likes you, right?” Hvitserk suddenly says, and you pinch your eyebrows together. This thought hasn't crossed your mind. “That's probably why he did that. That's how he... Gets a woman's attention.”

“Would you do the kindness of telling him it's not working?” Muttering, you rest both your arms on his back folding them as if his shoulders were a table. “Actually, I've been meaning to tell you... I met Ivar at the market place today.”

“...And?” He asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Nothing, just... It was nothing, really.” It's hard to understand exactly what you want to tell Hvitserk. You just can't seem to put your feelings or thoughts together. “I was looking at these things and he said they wouldn't suit me.” Stretching out your arm, you show him the bracelet. “I bought this there.”

“That's nice. But cheap.” Rolling your eyes, you remember Ivar said pretty much the same thing.

“He also said I'm kind. But that was probably in a mocking tone, so...” You get into Kattegat, and Hvitserk greets some people. “I don't know.”

“I believe it's safe to assume Ivar doesn't hate you.” Hvitserk slows down the horse when a group of kids run by. “If he did, he wouldn't put himself on your way like that... Or look at you the way he does.”

“And how does he look at me?” The words come out slowly because you're not sure if you want to know.

“The only thing I can say for sure is that he never looked at a woman like that.” You finally get to Ragnar's house, and Hvitserk asks a man to help you down. Once you're safe on the ground, he jumps off, telling the man to take the horses. “And I mean it in a good way.”

He puts a hand around your waist, helping as you jump on the right foot until the table in the main hall. “Do you think he–”

“What happened this time?” Aslaug asks, her voice already giving out that she's not happy.

“Twisted ankle. She fell from the horse.”

“Take her to her room, Hvitserk.” The Queen mutters, saying something to the girls who were following her. “And carry her this time if that isn't too much to ask.”

“Alright.” He replies, picking you up with a hand on the small of your back and another under your legs, quickly finding the way to your chambers.

Giggling, you give him a look “I love when your mother–”

“Careful with the teasing this time. I might just drop you to the floor and I don't care if your a princess who fell off a horse.” The fake angry tone makes you laugh again.

“My bad, Prince Hvitserk.” You snap back, rolling your eyes.

Aslaug has her maids help you bathe first, cleaning the dirt that is attached to your face and hair before lying you on the bed again and applying a piece of fabric with cold water on your ankle, keeping it elevated with some pillows. She isn't happy to know the whole story, despite you assuring her it's alright now. You could've died, she said, breaking your neck. But it's useless to worry about what could've happened. The best thing to do now is to focus on the ankle, which she said will be better in a few days, and let the whole incident go.

Later that night, you give little jumps to the main hall to eat something. It's just Ubbe and Bjorn, seated on a table at the corner. Nodding at them, not wanting to chat with Bjorn at the moment, you sit at the edge of the table in the middle, your back turned at both men, taking the jar and pouring yourself something to drink.

“How's your ankle?” Ubbe asks, and you look over your shoulder.

“It's fine. I'll be able to walk normally in a few days. But my back still hurts.” Completely ignoring Bjorn's existence, you turn away from them again.

Drumming your fingers on the table, you wait for the Queen's maids to bring your meal. When you feel someone moving behind your back, you assume it's them, and place your cup further away to open some space. But instead of the bowl with rabbit stew, a necklace is put down before you. And it's absolutely beautiful, with three blue stones surrounded by a golden metal, delicately molded around it. It's different from anything you've ever seen in Wessex. Taking it in your hands, you see Ivar dropping to the seat next to you, and you turn to look at him.

“What is it?” You ask, unable to hide the smile that comes to your lips.

“A necklace.” He simply says, and you roll your eyes at his tone. What a way to ruin the mood.

“Yeah, I noticed.” The smile slowly drops as your eyes go back to the piece, fingertips caressing one of the stones.

“This was made for a princess. Not those cheap things.” He gestures at your bracelet, and you giggle.

“Well, this is absolutely beautiful.” Glancing at him, you find he was already staring. “Is it for me?” You inquire in a lower voice, not wanting to make any assumptions that might embarrass you.

Ivar nods, lightly pushing your shoulder. “Turn around. Let me put it on.”

Doing as he says, you turn your back at him. Ivar takes the necklace and places it around your neck, and you hold your hair up so he can close it on the back. Once he's done, you let the hair fall before turning to face him, folding your left leg and carefully laying the wounded ankle on the bench between you and Ivar. “How does it look?”

You wait for an answer, but it doesn't come. Ivar's eyes were fixed on the necklace, but slowly, they come to meet yours. Tilting your head to the side a little, you feel heat spreading through your cheeks.

Shaking your head lightly and looking down, you take a deep breath. “Have you heard that I fell from a horse this afternoon?” You're glad you got your brain to function, changing the subject. “Twisted my ankle.”

Ivar's stare falls to your bare feet on the bench, the skirt of your dress pulled up to your knee. “Mother told me it was someone else's doing.” As he speaks, Ivar gives an angry stare at where his two brothers are, and it's obvious who he's looking at. “But I think you'll survive.” You feel his fingers caressing your skin, from your knee and down through your calf, so softly you wonder if he's really touching you.

“I will.” You assure him, biting back a smile.

“Ivar,” Ragnar calls, and it does take a while until you both look at where he's standing, near the thrones. “Your mother wants to speak with you.”

“What now?” He asks, annoyed.

“I don't know. Go ask her.” And he disappears.

“Guess I'll have to go.” He glances at you, grabbing the clutch.

But before he can push himself up, you grab his arm. Perhaps you shouldn't do it. Perhaps this whole thing is just some kind of joke he's pulling on you, but still, the necklace is beautiful and he was... Kind. So you lean closer to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the gift. It's very beautiful.”

Ivar is frozen, even after you let go of his arm. He stands there, blue eyes locked on yours. Slowly, painfully slow, a smile comes to his lips. And it feels different. True, genuine. “You're welcome, princess.” He whispers before pushing himself up to his feet and walking away.

You're still a little dazed when the rabbit stew comes, and you can do nothing but play with the spoon. But heavy footsteps get your attention, and when you look at your side, you catch a glimpse of a very angry Bjorn disappearing inside.

He saw everything. And it takes you by surprise to notice that, the moment you laid eyes on Ivar, you immediately forgot Bjorn and Ubbe were here. Everything just... Faded away, and there was nothing else, just you and him. And this is not the first time it happens.

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07

#ivar imagine #imagine ivar #ivar x you #ivar x reader #ivar x y/n #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless fanfiction #ivar the boneless x reader #imagine ivar the boneless #viking imagine #imagine vikings #ivar vikings x reader #vikings x reader

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bedtimebrain · 3 years

Text

EXO Baekhyun: Speedpost!

(while i've been having fun with all these drawings in my past few posts, i must admit i almost puked when i looked at this one as i was uploading today. for the sake of our eyes will nicely put a stop to this soon :,D)

Char: baek x u Genre: military baek, fluff!, needy (?) reader Description: you thought you could do just fine with baek in the military, but it seems like you actually need him a little more than you think Word Count: 1.3k Track for feels: Avril Lavigne, Wish you were here

You honestly thought you were the kind of strong and independent girlfriend. The kind that would do absolutely fine when your boyfriend enlists.

But truth be told, you barely scrape past this week, and it has only been a week since baek enlisted. Doubts, doubts. Could you even hold it together for another 2 more weeks? You remember just the day before baekhyun's enlistment, he deliberately teased you with fake sobbings,

'babe, will you cry if i'm not around? you might miss me so much it's too much for you to bear right? if you..'

you simply scoffed and cut him off

'ya, byun baekhyun, i'm afraid i would have to disappoint you. i am very much a busy and independent woman. i will do just fine with you enlisting. plus we will probably get to call once in a while, i can live with that'

you smugly folded your arms, sending an attack to his ego

In hindsight, the attack went out like a boomerang and came right back at you. You can already imagine baekhyun playfully gloating

'Strong independent woman, jagiya?'

Perhaps it might all be better if a wreck package hadn't self-invited itself to your life this week.

First of all, your boss decided it was a good idea to throw your proposal back in your face. Next, your very considerate across-the-globe client planned a conference call close to sleeping time in korea. As if it all couldn’t be worse, you overheard a juicy conversation your colleagues were having about you in the washroom.

All these just made you want to run right to baekhyun. To lie on his lap, throw punches at him and hear him flame your life perpetrators with the most nonsensical phrases.

During the day, all you looked forward to was your phonecalls with baek. But who knew even a phonecall date would be as hard to fulfil as climbing mount Everest.

Apart from the first day, every other day the past week was met full of hiccups. Either you were caught up with conference calls and work, or baek was cutting too close to lights out for a long call.

You call it baek crumbs, yes you were surviving on baek crumbs.

There was still sometime left before your phonecall date tonight. You yanked open your refrigerator in search of your alternative destress mechanism -- chocolates. You sighed at your depleting chocolate stash, physically indicating how badly you needed baek.

Back on the sofa, you swallowed down Freddo and you plugged in your earphones like an emo teen, randomly choosing a song radio to play.

As if Siri heard your inner thoughts, the radio chose to play Avril Lavinge's Wish You Were Here. Before you know it, you were a crying mess.

It's not even like you guys were breaking up, but the lyrics were literally stabbing into your heart But right now i wish you were here.... Damn, what i'd do to have you here ...

You were pathetically brawling away when baekhyun's call came in. Suppressing your heavy sobbing, you picked up the phone after a couple of rings at this untimely moment.

'Jagiya, i've 15minutes today! How have you been? You wouldn't believe what happen today! Jagi? Are you there?' His animated voice died down and he held a pause.

'Are you crying? y/n why are you crying? what happened?' you hear a hint of panic in his voice

Baekhyun was fast at catching on things, your quietness, shakey breathes and suppressed hitches were more than enough to indicate a red flag to him.

You had intended for tonight's call to be a fun and not your emotional health hotline help. Taking a deep breath, you tried to put up a front, and with your most stable voice, replied him

'ya, what crying? so what happened with you today?'

'ya, stop bullshitting me. you're crying, what's up with you?' turning all serious, he wasn't going to let you dodge this

you bit down hard on your lip, you couldn't get a syllable out of your throat, afraid the moment you did so you would break down completely.

'damn it, i would totally break the law just to bring a camera phone in so you cannot hide your face from me. tell me please?' he sounded urgent and frustrated, but gentle in asking you to tell him

'baekhyun ah, i can't do this anymore. i thought i could, but why is it so difficult' your voice cracked and you burst into hot tears

'i haa-d such a bad week and i just want..want.. to tell you about it every night. but our time together is always so short that by the time it got to my turn to tell you about my day.........the call ends. and.. and.. i don't know..... what to do about all these on my own..with--without you' you were wailing and possibly incomprehensible by now

'ya..y/n-ie, mi an hae. jeongmal mi an. i just realised i hadn't even heard about how your day went this entire week. i always got so carried away telling you about me, i wasn’t considerate enough.'

Almost running out of tears, you regain your composure quickly

‘Jagi, I’m not blaming you. Please don’t take it that way, it’s just.. I really wish you were around.’

The call suddenly went silent on the other sides, then you heard some low shouts in the background

‘Baekhyunie?’ You guess it was probably an early roll call again

A few moments later, baekhyun was back on the call.

‘Jagi, I’m sorry, I’ll probably have to go soon, the sergeant’s checking my barracks next.

Anyway, I actually had something I wanted to give you the night before I enlisted, but you insisted you were an independent and busy woman....’

His sentence was left broken with a sudden series of clattering like his phone had dropped. You heard louder shouts this time round, then a hurried whisper from Baekhyun

‘Jagi, check the right drawer under your table alright. I got to go now, mi an.’

‘Ah, okay.. saranghae’ and the call was dropped.

You know it was beyond Baekhyun’s control when he had to end the call. But it still didn’t stop you from feeling down at the abrupt goodbye.

Forcing a smile on your face for the sake of your own, you went to your table as baekhyun had told you.

Right drawer under the table?

Pulling open the drawer to find a floral patterned metallic box.

Was baek referring to this?

Popping open the metal box you gasp at the contents scattered within. With a hand over your mouth, you could feel your eyes welling up with tears again.

Chocolates. Lots of chocolates. Fanciful chocolates. Notes... byun baekhyun actually wrote notes for you?

He never once made you cards no matter how hard you ‘jaebal’ for him to. He would just say

‘Too difficult’

‘Too bothersome’

‘Suck at handicraft’

You pulled out the longest note in the entire box and couldn’t help but chuckle when you saw his scrawls

Annyeong Jagi! I bet you would choose this to read first cause it’s the longest. Did I guess it right?ㅋㅋ i wrote a letter to my beloved EXO-Ls, and I thought, how could I not leave you with one? Y/N, you see the chocolates in this box? I went to the candy store that day and picked them individually for you. Because I’m not around, I thought you might need them more. If you have a hard time when I’m away, take a chocolate and a note, enjoy them and think about me. Thank you for waiting, nae sarang, very soon I’ll be with you again. ^^

On the table, your phone vibrated and your screen lit up.

A msg from baekhyun:

Found my speedpost? Saranghae, wool ji ma(dont cry). Let’s call again tmr, goodnight!

You were smiling and crying like a fool by now. With a vision blurred by your tears, you typed a reply

Ya byun Baekhyun. Gumawo.... saranghae

Surely, you must have saved a nation your past life for you to meet byun baekhyun.

———

I was watching EXO arcade and this super random thought came to mind, do yall think their new album concept actually came from EXO arcade?

Like maybe they had been planning a season 2 all along and a new album. But they couldn’t think of a concept, so tada! Arcade, games! For their album concept~ Is there any talk like this circulating, hahah, hope I’m not late to the party then.

#baekhyun #exowritersnet #exo #bbh #exo comeback #exo scenarios #exo baekhyun #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fan fiction #byun baekhyun #super m

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peerless-soshi · 4 years

Note

Hello from ao3!!! There's so many prompts and I can't decide what to choose haha I feel that your last chapt left me thirsty so maybe fengqing and 75/92???? And if you don't like writing this kind of stuff maybe xuexiao and 40/96? I'm so happy that you're still accepting those requests :) And good luck with your long stories!

Rules: Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

XueXiao: Almost kiss +Scars

A/N: Yes, I'm coming back to life after the long break (caused mostly by my new job). Although I have less time now, I'm really determined to go back to writing and post more frequently. Big thanks to Anon who was waiting... months... for this chapter :)

Trigger warnings: Xue Yang being a killer and a creep (he was), some disturbing imagination, death mentions

Xue Yang tiled the window. Yi City broke in; fresh wafts of morning flowed through the coffin house, dust piles falling from the windowsill and flitting in the somber daylight, then fading. Xue Yang forced himself to draw a breath. Finally. The air reeked of wet that was neither dew nor rain, but it felt clean, and swept away the stinky dead smell skulking in the corners. Xiao Xingcheng liked the coffin house to be tidy, even if taking care of it was an idle job, so Xue Yang decided to grab a cloth and dust a little more before daozhang’s waking up.

Really, he wasn’t good at this – at playing house, playing nice – but he followed Xiao Xingcheng’s advises like a good guy. A good listener, and a better liar. You raise early, prepare water to wash your face, then put on clothes and smiles, take a knife – to chop meat in dices, just like Little Blindy liked. Xue Yang lived a quiet life, a fox holed up in his burrow, but he couldn’t complain. His patience was sharpening claws, curled up in the winter sleep. And it was getting hungry.

Leaving the window wide open to let the air in, Xue Yang leaned against the frame to rest. There was no sound but the wind. Then his eyes narrowed: he could barely see the buildings, the mist like a curtain over them. Recently, it was becoming thicker and whiter, he noticed, as if snow fell in blinding flakes, swallowing Yi City whole. Xue Yang could almost imagine them catching in his eyelashes, blinding him. Why? The mist was everywhere, the cold was unbearable, and he was in the middle of it. A cold chill run through his spine; Xue Yang blinked, shivered, and stepped away from the window. It should’ve been warm, spring was almost there, but no, it was cold. Too cold. The fox slept for too long, the winter was so close. Goose-flesh covered his still bare arms and his fingers, hidden in glovers and now cracked with cold, clenched on his wrists.

Waiting made him uneasy: he was waiting for warm, waiting for revenge, waiting all the time, waiting for Xiao Xingcheng, waiting…

Suddenly, someone shifted behind him.

"Who?” Xue Yang glanced back with some caution, but his face revealed nothing. The next moment, his heartbeat slowed down. “Daozhang. Did I wake you up?”

Xiao Xingchen slowly rose, sitting straight in the provisional bed made out of the coffin. His blindfold was awry in a morning disarray. “Don’t worry about it.” A smile. “It’s morning already?” A laugh.

A life.

Xue Yang remained silent. He was struck by how white Xiao Xingcheng looked in the morning: pale like rice paper, as easy to rip up, with just a few soft strokes of black hair and a thin line of a smile. His skin seemed to glow against the dark coffin wood and it was nothing like snow. More like a painting. Drop by drop, the snow melted and gave way to the warmth of Xiao Xingcheng’s voice.

“Hello?” he said,“What is going on?”

“It’s nothing.”

“What time is it?” Xiao Xingcheng repeated.

“Quite early.” Xue Yang finally said. He tried for a normal tone, a careless tone, not sure if it worked. “Sorry for the noise, daozhang, I only wanted to air the room. The hinges squeak, we should get new ones. Maybe we’ll go to the town later?”

Xiao Xingcheng nodded but said nothing, then turned his non-existing eyes to Xue Yang. “Is everything all right, my friend?

“Of course,” he replied fast. Too fast? Clearing his throat, he realized how stiff he was. “Why does daozhang ask?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“It’s quiet outside,” Xiao Xingcheng said.“Nobody’s there?”

Xue Yang shrugged, then remembering that daozhang couldn’t see it added, “Maybe they’re afraid after that fierce corpses’ attacks. Who can understand stupid villagers…? Uneducated villagers,” he corrected himself. “They have their own superstitions, I won’t keep up with them.”

The whole city lived on things that Xiao Xingcheng didn’t know. But maybe he didn’t want to know. And fine, him and Xue Yang could be alone, and feared. It’s much better to be hated for what you are than loved for what’re not, Xue Yang lied to himself.

Xiao Xingcheng seemed to look at him through the bandage. “Where is A-Qing? She’s not there?”

“I don’t know,” Xue Yang whispered. “I think she’s playing with the boys again. So ungraceful. But everything’s fine. Can’t you see it, daozhang?” he asked. A little of the laughter rang in his breath. “Stupid question. I guess you can’t.”

As he grinned roguishly, he was rewarded by a gale of laugh. “You devilish friend.” Xiao Xingcheng gave him a face of good-natured scorn, checking the blindfold. “One day I’ll have enough of your jokes, so watch out.”

“Perhaps, but today is not that day.”

With a quick flick, Xue Yang closed the window and turned again to Xiao Xingcheng. Gray light deepened to darkness. He reached for a candle; the fire grew up on the cusp of wax and the air warmed, and became dense. Outside the cold was rising; inside the scent of death, sickening and old, wrapped around Xue Yang like a balm. He walked to Xiao Xingcheng, black shadows on all sides.

“It’s still early. Go back to sleep.” His quiet voice dropped lower and his smile drained out of it like wine from a bottle. “You don't have to worry, daozhang. I'll take care of it, you just rest.”

But Xiao Xingcheng would not listen. He raised his head, higher, thinking about something Xue Yang couldn’t see. At least he stood up, letting his long sleeves to flutter like wings.

“Daozhang!”

“I don’t like it. Stay here, please,” Xiao Xingcheng said, more gently then he should. “Something must have happened in the city. I’ll go and check.”

“Stop it.You stay here, I’ll go and see if everything’s fine.”

“Thank you, my friend, but are you able to do it?” Xiao Xingcheng whispered a question. “Those villagers are counting on me, I can’t leave them alone.”And he read the answer in Xue Yang’s trembling hands. “You wouldn’t go, but it doesn’t matter. This is why I need to. Take care of yourself.”

The sudden realization stabbed, sharp. Xiao Xingcheng would never have come back if he had left now. He’d never have come back to Xue Yang if he had heard stories of fierce corpses… and if he had seen the truth… or half-the-truth… or Song Lan… and if…

Noticing that Xiao Xingcheng was holding his hand, Xue Yang pushed him, but almost immediately grabbed his arm and forcibly seat him in the coffin. He didn’t understand it, but daozhang’s voice sounded different than it did before. Somebody had lit a flame between sentences, started a fire. All of sudden, a smell of thousand dead bodies enveloped the room. It was strong. How many people had died here? The candle flame quivered, and Xue Yang’s heart became heavy. His grip strengthened.

“Just sleep, daozhang,” he said, his lips by Xiao Xingcheng’s ear. “Why won’t you sleep? I don’t want you to go.”

“Didn’t you ask me to wake up?” he replied. “What are you going to do now?”

Xue Yang stopped. He felt stupid. He wanted to tell Xiao Xingcheng to be silent, but instead he thought “stay”. Xue Yang craved Xiao Xingcheng to stay; to lie, to fill him with words and never speak again. To be here, and to die, but not really, just a little. He could do it, have Xiao Xingcheng all to himself.

Xue Yang’s body was very close to his now, almost too close, and his hands weren’t gentle, weren’t careful. Xue Yang was still holding Xiao Xingcheng and before he knew, he used all his strength to push him down. The wood under them cracked. This picture – Xiao Xingcheng sleeping in the coffin, cladded from head to toe in washed white like in a funeral robe – it seemed familiar, and Xue Yang knew it was wrong. In another world, he would relive the scene again and again and again: laying daozhang down, washing his face, brushing his hair. The air reeked of wet that was neither dew nor rain. It wasn’t water, it was blood. But the picture turned watercolor hazy, the borders blurred. Maybe Yi City has really made him blind?

It wasn’t time for this. Not now. Xue Yang released Xiao Xingcheng’s shoulders and moved to his hair, then neck, to the soft skin he was still afraid to explore. The light of the candle painted strange patterns on Xiao Xingcheng’s face – he was the work of art, white paper instead of white mist. Xue Yang’s breathing, close to daozhang’s ear, was strangely irregular. He smiled at that. This breathing was out of rhythm, strained, as if he was holding something back, something violent. What a lovely feeling it was.

And then, there was something like a click. Like a flash of light. Xue Yang’s lips were so close to his that he brushed them while speaking. “I just want you to belong to me.”

Somewhere in his head a tiny voice said, what are you doing? Get hold of yourself. Xue Yang ignored that voice, but before they locked in a kiss, daozhang stopped him.

“No, Xue Yang. You can’t do that,” he said, his voice veiled in a quiet reprimand.

“Why?” Xue Yang’s fingers once again tightened on the edges of the coffin. “Can you stop me? Can you forbid me? Can you push me away? I’ll tell you: you are not strong enough to take care of yourself, Xiao Xingcheng, and you’re dreaming of giving orders to me?”

He bent down again, tried to swallow. For a moment, each breathed the other’s breath. But the instant was over and Xue Yang realized he didn’t have a taste of daozhang’s breathing: there were no leaves and trees and no cold frost on his tongue. There was nothing. Because daozhang wasn’t breathing.

A line like spider-silk showed between Xiao Xingcheng’s brows. “I’m not the one who’s dreaming.” He shook his head slowly. “You should wake up, Xue Yang. I’m dead.”

Yes, his mind yelled, That’s right.

“No,” his lips whispered. “It's not true!”

Xiao Xingcheng was talking to him again, as if from behind a wall, words Xue Yang didn’t grasp the meaning of. He just stepped away, tripping over his own feet, and falling. That was the moment he knew, there is no going back. Everything had been lost. Xue Yang was nothing but a bundle of stupid, helpless despair, kneeling on the floor of the empty coffin house like in an absurd prayer. Everything had happened so quickly, much too quickly. He had no control. And he remembered, of course.

“Xiao Xingcheng! Xiao Xingcheng!” Xue Yang called, reaching for the hands that were too cold. “Come back, Xiao Xingcheng! Can you hear me? XIAO XINGCHENG!”

It wasn’t meant to be like this. Did it have to be like that? It didn’t. It should. Those thoughts were weighing on his mind.

Xue Yang wasn’t sure how long he’d been cowering on the floor. A long time. He heard the wailing wind again. Apart of that, he heard nothing. There was nobody in the coffin house. He was alone. No Xiao Xingcheng’s voice. Just himself… and the memory of what had happened.

When Xue Yang lifted his head, everything was almost dark. The candle burned out. But even now, his eyes fell on the long scar crossing Xiao Xingcheng’s neck – deep, irregular, and buried under the clean bandages. He had exposed it earlier, as he had been running his hand through Xiao Xingcheng’s hair. Once again, he was struck by how white Xiao Xingcheng looked: pale like a corpse, and nothing like snow.

Of course.

Finally, he got up and walked over to the coffin. This time, he ignored the lips and kissed only the ugly, ugly scar.

I am no longer here.

However, the body lying in the wooden coffin was the greatest evidence that Xiao Xingcheng was lying. Oh no, he was still there. Xue Yang grabbed a cloth to dust a little more before daozhang’s waking up. Xiao Xingcheng liked the coffin house to be tidy, even if taking care of it was an idle job.

#mo dao zu shi #the untamed #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #xuexiao #xue yang #xiao xingchen #my writing #not the best thing ever created #but it's a warm up #also I don't know what happened with formatting #why it keeps hiding EVERYTHING no matter how many times I change it

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cero-blast · 5 years

Note

Your post about Gin "messing with people's heads" makes me think, doesn't this also apply to Ulquiorra? He also psychologically tortured Inoue, don't you think it's hypocritical to say Gin's actions don't nullify the bad things he did, but say that UH is good/not toxic? I'm not trying to hate on you, I don't ship anything in Bleach, I just wanted to know why Gin is considered a bad inexcusable guy but Ulquiorra's relationship with Inoue is glorified?

This will get… really long. I’m genuinely sorry it’s this long.

I never said Ulqiorra did nothing wrong (though it’s fair to say I didn’t happen to specifically point it out), or that UH is a ship with many positive feelings associated to it. That would be… an interesting take. I hope you don’t think I think that. But I also need you to understand that I don’t base my taste in ships on what I desire/consider healthy in real life. They exist in the context of the canon — not interchangeable with reality considering the existence of superpowers, ghosts, semi-human creatures and time warping — and that’s where it ends for me. Applying the dynamics in my ships to any situation other than the precise one of Bleach’s canon would make them fundamentally different.

I’ve wanted to mention this about Ulquiorra for a while now and I’ll take the occasion to do so. It’s a mistake to put him in the same framework as a human or shinigami. (The latter two also have their differences but based on observation shinigami seem to behave in a much more human-like manner compared to hollows/arrancars.) He’s practically incapable of understanding what empathy is or find any good reason not to hurt other people, which is why it’s surprising when he manages to grasp even a shred of the concept right before dying. Hollows are born from experiencing such severe pain that it distorts their whole ‘essence’, so something has gone terribly wrong with them emotionally by definition, whether they evolve to arrancar form or not. Ulquiorra’s aspect of death, his ‘theme’, is emptiness — characterized by complete neutrality towards everything. Since a person with a healthy mindset tends to focus on danger and negative events, neutrality often comes across as immoral for being equally conceding towards moral right and moral wrong. The point is, Ulquiorra’s motivations for provoking Inoue had nothing to do with him taking joy in causing pain to her. In fact, it’s hinted he’s not even fully aware he’s doing it, like the scene where he tells Inoue he’d laugh at her friends’ foolishness in her place. He’s unaffected by most things AND has difficulty placing himself in others’ perspective, which results in him assuming everyone around him would be unaffected. The only thing that factored into him doing just about anything was curiosity, the need to fill the void, however you want to put it. If a human or shinigami behaved the same way he did around Inoue, it would come across in a vastly different way and I’m not sure it would even interest me as a ship. Ulquiorra is not only a hollow, but a hollow with a particular impediment in understanding how others feel, and this is an integral part of him as a character, of his interactions, of UH, of anything regarding him. I know it’s funny as a fandom meme to act as if he were human, but he’s NOT and this needs to be kept in mind.

This applies to any arrancar or espada, really. It’s tempting to judge them on the same basis as enemies who are closer to humanity, mainly because of their appearance and intellect. But this is the trick itself the narrative plays, a progression that has been present in Bleach since the start: it created a human/monster (shinigami/hollow here) dichotomy, then spent the longest arc deconstructing it by blurring the lines between the two. It doesn’t matter how smart and eloquent the espada manage to get, the only productive way of interpreting them is as people who are missing a very core part of their personality, so someone severely psychologically ill. (I say this as someone who has their own problems, before it gets misinterpreted as condescension.) Should this absolve them from punishment? Bleach says a very clear no. They almost all get killed by shinigami, in Ulquiorra’s case Ichigo specifically — Ichigo, who, by his own admission, empathized with everyone he fought and even gets angry at Yammy for speaking ill of Ulquiorra after his death. (I don’t want to start arguing about how he was in hollow state when he defeated him. He would have killed Ulquiorra either way if he continued to stand in the way of protecting his friends.)

In summary, the espada aren’t human. Ulquiorra isn’t human. It’s unrealistic to expect him to behave like a human. You’re free to pick who you want to have compassion for among Bleach’s positive and negative characters and if you decide Ulquiorra is irredeemable in your opinion, that’s fine — many characters would agree. But at the very least it can be objectively said that Bleach spends a lot of time presenting ‘evil’ characters’ perspectives as nuanced and explicable instead of writing them off. It gives the audience a choice in the matter. A core message of the entire story is that we’re subjective and maybe we’ll never manage to see the world the same way as someone else, but that’s fine and it doesn’t make us all that different; hollows can become *almost* shinigami, shinigami can become *almost* hollows, and they both have ways to relate to one another while retaining the insurmountable differences and even fighting and killing each other.

Now, onto Gin. First off, you seem to be under the impression that I don’t like him as a character. That couldn’t be further from the truth; I only said it in the tags because I figured saying it in the post would have sounded like making excuses, which is not what the post was about. I don’t know if I would call him a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ person. All I know is that I really enjoyed him as a character and I could see how he evoked sympathy — in the tragic way antagonists do when they get some sort of redemption. I noticed it’s a common tool in fiction to make an impact on the audience, I suppose because we’re happier when we see ‘bad people getting fixed’ rather than someone already good doing more good things. It’s a Prodigal Son type of thing; can be argued about but it definitely makes an impact.

Gin is a quintessential ‘mysterious type’; he has a long-running plan that he executes throughout almost his entire life without ever consulting with anyone (an important detail). He had a hypothesis on what would be the most effective way to kill Aizen and constructed a convoluted plan based on it — a plan where the ends would have justified the means in many, many situations, and that required causing problems to a lot of people. He had, however, no certainty that what he was doing would lead to the desired results (which it then didn’t…). A lot of his provocation was a means to create a certain image of himself and there’s a big question of where to draw the line there, whether all of that was absolutely necessary. Leaving to Hueco Mundo and technical demonstrations of loyalty were, sure, but mocking Rukia on her way to being executed? He considered keeping everything a secret a prerequisite for things to work out — presumably because if he talked to anyone, Aizen could have noticed — but was it, really? Many of his actions were based on his personal judgement on what would and wouldn’t have ruined the façade, subjective and hunch-based since he didn’t know the outcome for sure.

Gin isn’t inexcusable, but I noticed a lack of emphasis on the damage his actions caused among fans, both because of the chronological order of the story and his affiliation with the protagonists’ side. Because the last thing he did was a good thing, that’s what he’s remembered by, without taking into account the sum total of his interactions with others. He posited himself as vicious until the last moment and did so consciously. Ulquiorra had a very, very gradual progression in the way he talked to Inoue, which doesn’t make it less rude and traumatic, but there’s a difference between him showing up and telling her she ‘has no rights’ and later taking an active interest in her views on the Heart. It would be equally reductive to interpret him by his last moment and nothing else, but all he did before led to that moment progressively, while Gin’s was a very abrupt twist.

My post was a comment on psychology on the most basic, technical level, not a moral judgement. The two are separate in the way we process trauma and that’s exactly what I find interesting. Having strong negative emotions associated to a memory (what I think Kira, Hinamori, Hitsugaya or Rangiku could have had with Gin’s betrayal) creates a very subconscious reaction that can hardly be fixed by suddenly finding out it was necessary for a positive cause, which is why healing from trauma requires years of therapy. Because *in that moment* you didn’t have that knowledge, the pain remains in your memory and it’s not a matter of logical reasoning. Now, I’m not saying Ulquiorra’s interactions with Inoue were numerous or productive enough to properly process the trauma he caused her — the canon info is ambivalent on how comfortable Inoue was around him towards the end of her captivity because there’s both scenes like the famous slapping one *and* her seeming more light-hearted towards Ulquiorra in Unmasked, plus no one has any idea of which came before which. All things considered, I think repeated discussion and an attempt at mutual understanding does a better job at elaborating something traumatic than one single piece of information on why what traumatized you was justified. And note that the *only reason* the understanding between Ulquiorra and Inoue could have been mutual is because Inoue was exceptionally patient, empathetic and willing to face discomfort, way beyond the base level or what should be expected from anyone. Even if it was a *small amount* of *not very productive* discussion, it’s better than one act in my opinion (which most of the people who had some sort of issue with Gin didn’t even directly witness). Which of them is *morally worse* depends on how you draw the lines and define morality and that’s not something I feel qualified to decide.

So, in the end;Ulquiorra:-working towards enemy goals overtly-motivated by curiosity, which can be considered self-oriented-gradual improvement-not fully conscious of the emotional impact of his actions-Inoue considers him an ambivalent presence but “Isn’t afraid”, in her words-half-succeeded, as in: failed the goal of killing Ichigo but sated his curiosity

Gin:-working towards enemy goals on the surface and soul society goals covertly-motivated by attachment to Rangiku and/or revenge, less self-oriented but still focused on close acquaintances -long-running façade of being a terrible person followed by a sudden twist towards the good side-completely aware of everything he’s doing, plan laid out hundreds of years in advance-Gotei 13 don’t interact with Gin throughout HM arc, consider the traitors a lost cause-failed to kill Aizen

Instead of this encyclopedia I could have just written “Gin isn’t irredeemable, I just said he did bad things before”, but I thought too much about it. And I might go through spelling mistakes once I wake up.

#anon #ask #long post

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kay-is-krazy · 4 years

Text

Literally No Title

Please help

Idk what I’m doing

This is a fanfic

Deanxreader kinda

It needs work sorry

I will hashtag

Damp. Everything that surrounds you is damp. As you start to come to, you smell the stench. Sulfar. Confused, you try to open your eyes, brows furred as the light tries to chase away your sight. Your adrenaline pushes you to figure out where you are. Looking around weerily, you notice the familiar iron door. Your parents old farmhouse storm cellar. Opening and closing your eyes making sure this is what you're actually seeing. It's been years. Decades even since you've seen these walls. Theyre different now. Moldy, but with cobwebs. You start to realize you're strapped down on the old iron table you used to eat spaghettios on when the tornados hit. No use in trying to squirm your way to topple over. Your father bolted it down in the cement. How did you get here. As you push and strain yourself to remember, the door opens. A tall red flannel emerges, and you go cold...

Life wasn't always fighting monsters, and saving people. You had a family of your own, until the vampire mafia ripped in to town destroying everything in their path, including your home and everyone in it. You still remember their screams as you fled into the woods. Revenge is a choice you have to make, and it sure was a hell of a ride. In this life, you run into auhtorities, but very little hunters like yourself. After bumping into the Winchesters working a werewolf case, they sort of took you under their wing. Noticing you needed guidance, before you ever could. You were in constant rage, before meeting the boys. Searching for answers, and never being satisfied with the kill. It all blurred into a blood bath of vengence. A lot of trust, losses, and whiskey, but you found a new family. You need them as much as they need you. And just recently, it was Dean needing saving.

The mark had completely consumed him. Being the hero, the guinea pig, has led him to be desperate in saving the world. You knew he was always staying strong, putting on a good face for Sam, but deep down, he is slightly broken like the rest of you. His hope depleted as the mark's strength took over his judgement. He was like you were before they saved you, scared and fuming with anger. You're just trying to return the favor before he hurts anyone else, especially his brother Sam.

After months of research, you found something. Slight chance of hope in fixing Dean. Confiding in Sam, he decides to look for it himself. The word of God. Once touched by a demon, it is said to purify them. No one has seen it in over 100 years, but you got a lead. The only thing that's near impossible is finding Dean. So time to draw him out... He wants a fight, you'll bring him a fight.

Scrounging up as many demons as possible, making sure they're alive but bleeding, you make a devils trap and wait. You heard through demon grapevine, that Dean can sniff them out. He's the big bad now. Being a demon himself, he hates them even more, if that makes sense.

But your plan didn't work. There have been plenty of close calls while working on the job, but this wasn't just a regular monster case. It was so much more, and there's a lot at stake. You realize why you're scared. You're in a situation even you can't get out of alive. Fear sets in as Dean walks closer. Each step like a predator closing in on it's prey. That red shirt, being even more red than usual.

He smirks, “Welcome back sunshine. Thought I killed you too soon”.

Your head is pounding as you try to look at your body. Realizing its broken, bruised, and bloodied, you must have put up a fight.

“Oh that, sorry, I couldn't help myself. After I knocked you out, I had some fun.” Your heart is beating so fast as if it is going to jump out of your body. The last thing you want is for him to see you afraid. You try to muffle out his name, but your voice is hoarse. “Please don't speak, I don't want my ears to bleed as you plead with me.... or on the other hand, I'd love to hear you beg for your life”, he whispers the last part in your face.

Wincing at his words, you turn your head, and say “You're not you right now. We'll fix this, Dean.”

He puts his hands on your chin, for a second you think it's him. His oversized, warm strong hands that wouldn't hurt a fly unless it was unnatural.The ones who taught you martial arts, and the ever so famous air guitar. But looking into his eyes, noticing they are lacking the softness, they flicker, and those green eyes are no longer. Black eyes, and his hands smell of sulfar. “There's nothing to fix sweetheart, I'm better than ever.” he jerks his hand away making your head turn to face him. As he walks to the door to open it, you yell out, “Just get it over with and kill me already!” He stops, turns his head just so you can see his profile, and scoffs. Walking out, and leaving you alone once again.

Wondering where Sam is, you try to squirm free from being tied up.Your fastens on your wrist have some wiggle room. Using the pointiness of your sister's ruby class ring on your left hand, you try to cut the leather bands. It's going to take hours, but you're not giving up yet. You know there are only two ways out of this, and you'll be damed if you don't fight.

'Pour some sugar on me' plays from your cell phone. Sam's calling you, the signature ringtone for drunk, fun Sam. Reminding you of the nights at the roadhouse, playing the same G43 on the old jukebox driving Dean insane. While Sammy and you sang until your voices were unrecognizable.

The door opens, and you straighten up, not making a move to let Dean know you've been trying to break free. There's a cart that he's pushing inside, full of old kitchen utensils, some tools from a shed, and a few of Dean's things from the trunk of his Impala that have been missing since the mark took him over.

“I know you and Sam have been looking for me, trying to save me. I'm going to show you how much I don't want or need you two around. Lets send Sammy a message, hm?” He walks over to your jacket with your cellphone in it. Dean throws it in the air and catches it. Holding it like a gun, making fake noises pretending to shoot you. “Glad to see you havent lost your adolescent behavior”, you say, “I know you're still in there Dean”.

He puts your phone down on the cart, picking up a rusty knife used for cutting fish. “But I'm not, and I'm going to prove to you just how wrong you are about me.” He cuts your cheek, and you feel the skin break open, stinging.

“You can hurt me all you want, you'll just be hurting yourself.” You say and spit in his face. The dark smirk scurries from his face, and you know what's coming next is worst.

The torture that he tortured you with only stems from Hell. Picture after picture taken and sent to Sam. The laughing, the darkness, and the insults coming from him, you start to lose hope that Dean is even in there. You keep reminding yourself that demons lie. Not believing anything DemonDean says, even though you desperately want it to be true. The remarks about how he used to think about you like a little sister until a couple years ago when you got stood up on a date with some guy named Brett. Thinking back from a different perspective now, you realize Dean was the one there who saved you from getting kicked out of the restaurant for using up a table. Waiting for some loser you met online, but seeing Dean sitting down across from you, feeling a sense of clarity and sureness. But now ever since he's turned into something evil, he doesn't feel a thing at all for you or Sam.

In and out of consiousness, you decide you wouldn't give up on him. Even though your body is mangled, you keep pushing.

“Dean, this isn't the path your mother would have wanted. You have to know that. You don't want to let her down or she'd died for nothing.” You plead and try, but he slaps you hard in the face. The hit seemed personal, as if you were getting somewhere with him. You reason, “Isn't family what brings people together, it's what brought us together. Aren't we family, you could let me go, and Sam and I can help you see the light again. Just like your mom used to say right? The light will guide you home. Come home Dean!” Another blow to your head. He knocks you out again.

As you come to, Dean is reaching for the blade. He's actually going to use it on you, kill you. Coming to terms with your fate, you start to hum and mumble 'simple man by lynryd skynrd'. It was always your favorite. It was everyones favorite. You figured it was a good enough song to go out to. You peek open your eyes as much as you can. Throbbing and seeping blood, you're finally able to see Dean stop and stare at you. He drops the blade, looking down at the mark and then back at you. His face twisted, unsure of what is reality. You don't stop singing. Second verse, he's closer now. A single tear rolling down your face; knowing if he ever came back, got the mark off, he wouldn't forgive himself. Even when he's unable to save someone on a job, he's hard on himself. You can't imagine what he'll feel like, so you pity him.

He's closer now, hands around your throat. He's trying to fight you and himself. The pain and anger in his eyes turns black, then normal again. You look him straight in those familiar faint green eyes, and say your final words, “I forgive you.” The world goes dark.

Heaven was always described as 'your own personal paradise'. You're wondering why yours is in a hospital. White walls and curtains. The coldness in your nose suprises you. Who knew paradise would be so cold, gray, and foggy. Nothing was easy to make out, but you could definitely tell it was a hospital. You hate hospitals, confused as to why you're heaven isn't what you expected, you look around to see if there is a recognizable face. Hoping for maybe your Dad, Mom, or sister.

No one. There's a loud beeping noise and you look up to see a monitor. Looks like the vitals of a dead man. You start to wonder maybe God put you in the wrong paradise. So you pray. But words don't come out, and you drift back into the dark.

Blinking once, then twice, then several times. The light is bright. You can tell it's daytime. Still the same Heaven as before, but this time you feel everything. The pain, the tenderness. You remember, and know that you're not dead. Relieved, but still uncertain, you try to move. Expecting straps to hold you back, your right arm goes flying in the air. Not used to being free. You look down at your body. It's bandaged and braced. A mountain of a man peeks through the curtains. You have instant relief when you recognize Sam. He has the 'poor puppy eyes' look, and you put your hand on his. He grips it tight, but gentle enough. The gentle giant. Trying to let out a smile, a shadow lurks behind Sam. Instant fear as you realize it's Dean. Panic sets in, and your body cannot handle it. The monitors go off, you see Sam try to calm you down, and Dean sneaking away, head down, disgraced with himself. Nurses rush in with the Doctor to make sure you're okay. Tears well up in your eyes. You somehow cannot forget what Dean has done to you.

Weeks in the hospital, the only visitor you had was Sam. Trying to keep your spirits up, he shows you all of his research following up on possible cases. Between playing cards, reading books, and making fun of the new Taylor Swift song, you ask Sam, “How is he?”, and each answer is the same. “No better, no worse,” Sam replies. After the panic attack, Dean thought it best if he didn't show his face anymore to you. Once healed, you were allowed to go home as long as you didn't saw off the leg brace, and practice using the crutches. Knowing how stubborn you are, Sam rolled his eyes, and promised to watch over you.

Happy to finally break out, you laugh as you fumble with the crutches. Sam lets out a worrisome smile. “I'm fine Sam. Really.” You look up to him and give him a carefree toothy grin. Throwing all of your things into the impala, because Sam refused to drive “that stupid pink truck”, you beg Sam to let you pick the music.

Pulling up to the bunker, your stomach sinks a little. You know you'll have to face Dean eventually. Fogiving is easy for you, but forgetting is a whole other learning curve. Never being the one to admit you're wrong first, or facing real problems, you know it's somehting that needs to be worked on. Staring off into the distance a bit, Sam pulls you out of it as he opens the door. “We're stocked up on all your favorite foods, drinks, and even have Netflix!” He says, nudging you arm and attempting a playful laugh.

Weeks of healing, you finally are able to get up into your truck. You need some air, and desperately needed to get away. The outside world was calling your name, so were the pink wheels on that old ford. First hours, days, then weeks went by, and not a single glance from Dean. No words, no contact. Ignored you completely. Anytime you tried to reach him, asking to grab a drink at the dirty bird bar, to researching a simple ghost job, he pushed you away. You spent so much time in your room with your thoughts. Trying not to think about the event that almost ended you, and most importantly the relationship with Dean. Even Sammy has started treating you differently like you're broken. After Sam telling you to stay home again, while they hunt monsters, you'd had enough. Weekend getaway to a cabin in the woods. You leave your phone on your nighstand and decide you need some peace to clear your mind.

“Fill her up,” you say shutting off your truck to get gas. Getting out to grab snacks from inside, a long lost friend appears. Not able to look away from the light, he shields your eyes for you. You forgot how enchanthing the bright white was. “Cas what are you doing here?” You ask as you looks at you stearnly.

“I was told to keep a tab on you, and you left the bunker. So I'm here to bring you back.” He says reaching for your arm.

“Under who's orders?!” You demand. Not letting him answer you back away and say, “The boys? Really can't even get some fresh air!” Clearly angry, you hit your tailgate. Cas immediatley lays his hands on you to heal you. Being an angel has it's perks. But you wanted to feel something, Cas didn't exactly understand what being human was really like.

Brushing his hand away, you try to reason with him. “Go back to the bunker, grab my phone, and bring it to me. That way I have it on me in case I need anything. I'm still going on my very needed trip. What I don't need is a babysitter” Before you could blink twice, Cas had your phone in hand. “Do not turn this off and always keep this on you.” Rolling your eyes you respond sarcastically, “Thanks Dad. Can I leave now?” Clearly unsure of his decision, Cas side eyes you, but finally nods, and leaves you to your road trip snacking.

The cabin is the same as you left it two summers ago. A couple empty beers scattered, but the rest of the place in neat tidy order. Your mom always liked everything in a specific spot, and you try your best to remember that while staying there. Picking up the bottles to recycle them, you smile and remember the good times spent here with your family, both families. Thinking about the boys, you let out a sigh of relief. Thanking the angels that Sam showed up when he did in the storm cellar that day. The word of God being forcefully put in Dean's hands, purifying him instantly. A bright gold light shining through the brick like object, blasting Dean into Sam. His brother holding onto Dean as he comes to and realizes, he's saved. Sam's words will stay with you forever, that story will stay with you forever. You smile as you remember, you were the one who stalled Dean as Sam had come to the rescue.

“Oh shit!” You say as your line tugs and gets stronger. You were too busy admiring the cotton candy sunset to see your fishing line got a bite. It was a warm afternoon, but turning brisk fast. Fall was settling in, you could tell as the wing picked up every now and then. The trees leaves turning the auburn colors. Setting your beer down, you reel it in, but your bait is completely gone.

“You never were good at fishing.” You quickly stand from a lousy folded plastic chair, and turn around to find Dean, smiling at your loss. Clearly shocked, you ask “What are you doing here? Cas told you didn't he. Lousy friend.”

You put your pole down, and open the cooler to offer Dean a beer. He takes it and slowly sits down on the edge of the dock, feet dangling. You sit down next to him, opening your own beer. “Where's Sam?” you ask.

“Working the case still.” He notices your cocked eyebrow from a side glance. As if he would ever leave Sammy alone, he continues, “It's easy, just some pyscho vengeful ghost.” He sips his beer, straring at the now setting sun.

Getting straight to it, you ask, “Why are you here Dean?” Staring at him, you notice the weariness.

He lowers his head, gripping his beer tight. You see his shoulders move up and down slowly. Sighing heavily, he looks at you, completely looks at you for the first time. It catches your breath, because you have never seen a man so broken, Dean so vulnerable. You can tell he's been fighting with himself, beating himself up over the events that took place. Defeated, face full of hatred for himself, he doesn't say a word. You see his jaw tighten, his temples twitching. Reaching for his shoulder to show trust, but he pulls away shaking his head. “I don't trust myself with you” He musters, as he stands up to walk toward the cabin. Thinking about chasing after him, forcing him to talk, but you can't move. Like cement, you stay planted in your spot. The sun finally sets, but you still sit there, listening to the sound of the frogs.

Grabbing your things from the dock, you head inside. What could you say to make him believe you. Would you believe yourself if you said, “Everything is okay.”? Is it? Inside, you notice Dean is cleaning up what seems to be like the bathroom mirror. Understanding what just happened, you bend down to help and he stops you. Gripping your hands tight, he says “No. You don't need to clean up my mess. Any of my messes.” With a dustpan, he walks to the trash to dump the shards of glass.

“What's that suppose to mean? Am I not allowed to care? To try to save you from yourself?” He winces at the last part.

Turning around to face you, but leaning against the kitchen counter, he looks at you cold and promises, “You will never have to save me again. I will never hurt you or anyone else again.” He looks down and then back up into your eyes, moving towards the door, “You wanna know why I'm here? I came here to say goodbye.”

Stopping him dead in his tracks, you look up at him wondering how you and Sam could even survive without Dean. You start to cry. It's not like you to let anything out, but you stand there, tears pouring out of your face. “No.” was all you could muster up. Very stearn, you said it again, “No.” He grabs you and pulls you in close. Hanging on to eachother, as if it's the last time.

You both stay like this awhile, not realizing it's way over due. “You're not leaving us. We won't let you.” you say confidently, and at this he lets go. He tenses again, trying to be strong, and insists “You and Sammy have to let me go. I've been nothing but trouble. I'm bad. I'm not worth your lives.” Clearly needing reassurance, but not knowing how, you yell, “I went through all of that for nothing?!” Talking with your hands like usual, brows furious now, you continue, “After everything, you still think you're not worth it? Sam and I have done everything for you, for us, for this family.”

He turns his back on you holding back tears, but instead letting out his frustration, “You don't what it's like to need constant saving. I need control of myself, I don't have control.” He yells as he punches the wall. It startles you.

“Oh, I don't know what it's like?” you start, “You don't think that I was ever at a low in my life. What losing my family did to me, the things I did in return. It wasn't until you and your brother, that I finally found solace!” you scoff, “Please you're not the only broken one around here.” Realizing that anger isn't the route to go down, you quietly move toward him. Pushing back the fear that has been dormant, you hold his hand. “We are family.” you say softly. “Family doesnt end in blood.” You wipe away the blood trickling from his knuckle with your shirt.

His hands are shaking now, as he holds them up inching closer to your neck. You flinch, and he tries to pull away. You immediatley grab his hands, and put them to your cheeks, making his squish them together a little. Tears welling up in your eyes, you let out a low, “i'm a little guppy...” It was something you two always did to cheer eachother up. Getting the other to laugh when you're both at a low point has been almost like a game. So far, he's beeing in the lead. Before you can finish, his lips are on yours. Waves of heat roll from your head to your toes, your wet cheeks brushing his scruff, and you give in, even being scared and uncertain. Dean pulls away, looks at you stearn, and says “I'm going to miss you.”

You're still standing not sure of what just happened, and you hear the door slam shut. It seemed as though your feet wouldn't move, but then you finally took a deep breath, turned around and bolted out the door. He was getting in the impala, but before he could jet off, you opened that door and ripped him out. Standing toe to toe, you slap him. That bottled rage unleashes. Then you connect your fist to his face. Unprepared, Dean fell against the car. Shocked at how hard you hit, he starts to realize you're not going to stop, so he holds your hands down. Red in the face from anger, and him red because well there's now blood pouring from his nose, you finally relax so he loosens his rains on you.

“What was that?!” You ask. “Who do you think you are? That is not okay. I am not okay.” Turning around, hands on your hips, shaking your head. Instantly defensive, you gasp, turn to face him, and make sure he knows, “I am not like every other girl. I don't deserve to be treated like any other girl.” He opens his mouth to say something, but you immediatley talk over him, “You're going to have to kill me.” Dean looks at you clearly confused. “Why do I have to kill you?”

Walking back and forth now, you respond, “Over my dead body...You're not walking out on us. Not Sammy, not me. Not our future. People need us, they need you.” Stopping, and turning to face Dean, you say, “I need you. And if you get in that impala, you better have shot me first because I won't stop looking for you.” Walking toward him now, pointing your finger in his chest, you end with “I refuse to give up on you.” At that, he looks down at you, smirks, and responds, “You're stubborn, you know that?” You break a smile, and say “I learned from the best.” Throwing you over his shoulder, he walks into the cabin.

Completely surprised as to what took place last night, you turn around and look at Dean's green eyes. Understanding now, the feelings that were dormant for so long. Realizing now that DemonDean only told the truth to hurt you.You put your hand to his face, brushing his cheek with the back of your finger, and he closes his eyes to just feel your touch. “You're not allowed to leave.” He nods, reaches for your hand with his, and lightly kisses your fingers. “I will never forgive myself...” He says, and you respond instantly, with your pointer finger shooshing his lips, “I forgive you, and will continue to remind you that you're the good guy.” Closing your eyes, thinking about the first time meeting these boys, not knowing how they would change your life for the better, you smile. He rolls you over with ease, and tucks you in close to his warm naked chest. Deep, and grunting, he says your name into your hair. You lift your head a little to let him know you're listening, “hm?” “I don't deserve this” he says, “I don't deserve you.” You respond while picking his hand up moving it closer to your chest, “Neither do I.”

#kay-is-krazy #spnfic #deanxreader #dean x y/n #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x you #please dont steal #literallynotitle

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justcallmemav · 5 years

Text

7/20/18

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Pt.20

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“You didn't get along with her, so this shouldn't be affecting you this bad.”

(She saw how you treated me and wanted to adopt me.)

“You trust people too easy, girl.”

( I had known him for 13 years. I built that trust. )

“You put yourself in this situation.”

( I didn't ask for it.)

“I never liked him anyways, trash grew legs and took itself out.”

(I loved him for five years.)

▪▪ ·I love you, mom. I'm sorry I couldn't be what you wanted me to be.

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▪▪ ·I'm at work I'll message you when I'm off. Ly2.

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▪▪ ·I could use a call right now.

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▪▪ ·Can't talk right now, will call tomorrow. You'll be fine for a day.

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▪ You're my best friend. I love you. I can't take it anymore.

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▪ I think this is it.

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▪▪▪ Thank you for always loving me unconditionally. You're the greatest sister anyone could ask for. I love you. You're better off without me.

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You came to visit me two days after i was taken into the hospital on july 20th at 9 o'clock at night.

I was drinking an excessive amount within the matter of two hours.

Within the last few minutes of the second hour, I saw the walls of the world around me collapsing.

This is it.

I have nothing left.

My mind wouldn't rest. I took a xanax but it didn't help ease my mind.

It sure couldn't mend my broken heart.

This was the last time.

It didn't work before.

It has to work now.

So I begged, and I cried.

I prayed to a God I wasn't even sure existed.

Please take me now.

I want to come home.

I think I'm ready now.

JUST TAKE ME NOW. I AM READY. PLEASE FUCKING TAKE ME. I'M READY.

I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I made the choice to give into my thoughts and my depression. I made the choice to finalize this shit I consider living. This existence. This truly was it. This is the end.

I let my hands trace their way to my fate. To my drawer. Opening the pill bottle. Where the palm of my hand met my lips to fill my mouth with what I knew would make everything better soon. Next thing I know, my body was lured to the bottle of vodka as it stands at the end of the bed. I wrap my fingers tight around the neck of the bottle, lips to the glass. Down the hatch and into the rabbit hole I go. I feel my body spiral. Down...down...down...down…

Boom

So bitter.

Yet so good.

Was this the only way i could be happy again?

I will reach the numbness I yearn to undergo.

I've heard the rumors.

Does it seem as free as they say?

Then along came the thump.

ALAS~

Nothingness.

Darkness. No voices, no pain, no criticism. Just the echoes of my heart beat.

Thump.. Thump….. Thump….

After what felt like days… the darkness fades steadily. The numbness dissolves like ice through my fingertips.

Off in the distance I hear something. A cry? A car? A siren? A siren.

I struggle to come to consciousness.

I find it nearly impossible.

Then out of the blue, I hear a voice.

A voice so faint and familiar.

After some time, I can open my eyes half way as I slip back into consciousness.

My vision is hazy. I managed to come to when I hear her voice.

“Cayley, there's some people here who need you to get up and come outside. They need to check on you.”

I see the pigments from the lights spinning on their vehicles, bouncing off of the brick walls on the outside of my home, but it's all blurry.

I struggled to stand as I stepped through my threshold to go outside.

Who needs to talk to me? About what? Why?

I look up and see two policemen and a paramedic. I begin to hyperventilate.

“Is my dad okay?”

Ma'am, we received a call stating that you may be a harm to yourself, so I ask that you don't resist help. Are you able to follow us to the back of the ambulance, ma'am?

·I haven't done anything and I'm not a harm to myself.

·For your own safety we need to make sure that's true. We can't take risks, miss.

·I'm sorry, please ma'am let go of my arm, I don't need help. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME I AM FINE.

I hear my father talking to the police officer but couldn't make out what they were saying over dad's coworker crying and all of the sounds around me. I panicked. I heard my dad speaking once more, only this time it was directed at me.

He asked me three things.

“CAYLEY BABY WHAT’D YOU DO?”

“WHAT DID YOU TAKE?”

My hearing began to fade slowly, as I focused on the ringing gradually developing in my head. I could ever so slightly hear the walkie talkies and daddys office keys jingling in his pocket. I heard Sues charm bracelet that she loves so much.

I felt my heartbeat through my chest, as if it was trying to escape. I feel my heart rate descend, I look up to see what was around me. Everyone was there.

I saw my father crying and shaking.

I saw his girlfriend crying.

I saw my father's coworker crying.

I was embarrassed.

Yet, too weak to care.

I muttered to the medic under my breath;

“I'm ready to go. Ma'am please take me.”

I collapse, but the woman was quick to catch me. She definitely had motherly instincts. Not even 2 seconds after i collapsed, I lose consciousness.

I woke up in the back of an ambulance. I'm being hovered by two men with papers on clipboards and the medic who stopped me from busting my ass on concrete. They're bombarding me with questions and demands.

“Your oxygen levels are low, ma'am. I need you to inhale and exhale on ten. The oxygen being distributed through the tubes in your nostrils is a bit cold. Just a fair warning. Are you physically capable of removing your tunnels, lip piercing, your engagement ring, and whatever else pierced or on your person that could be a threat to yourself of me?”

“Do I have to take off my ring?”

“Yes ma'am, unfortunately it's code. We'll put it in this bag. It will stay unbothered. Please remove your piercings.”

Shortly after I began hyperventilating because I couldn't stop crying, and boom.

All consciousness was lost.

How could I harm anyone with a ring?

She should have been patient, anyways.

~Don't rush me.~

You asked me why I did it. It took you two days, it took my father less than 60 seconds to get to me when he saw the ambulance at the door.

You took 48 hours to muster the pride to visit me, and when you did, you showed no emotion at all. You hugged me that day and I felt no love.

I was barely aware of what was going on, yet I somehow sensed tension coming from your end. As if you were forcing yourself to care when deep down you knew you didn't.

I felt like I was being smothered by a well maintained, ‘JLo Glo’ scented greeting mat.

Even when I was much younger and you would stay in and drink, you'd hug me and I felt this giant strange force field of motherly love surrounding me, if that makes any sense. There was a step by step process of your home drunk persona and it went the same way every time.. but I'll get to that in a moment.

Anyways, I'm still thankful you showed. Even two days late. You had me slightly convinced that you actually cared.

ALMOST. I was informed of the insensitive remarks you made to my father about me. You really had the audacity to turn around and say I was wanting everyone to be worried about CAYLEY because ‘everything has to be about CAYLEY and CAYLEY was just looking for attention'.

Like I didn't come home from school and take two steps through the threshold only to see you crying because you got dumped. You threatened to end your life. (Because you loved this man so much. The man you are with now. 9 years later. The man you use for money. Whom you cheat on) Me and your biological daughter took you and admitted you.

I felt like i betrayed you, but i needed you to be alive. For...whatever reason. I guess cos y'know.. a 12 year old needs a parent. You came home and the meds they gave you calmed you down, but you liked that too much. You quickly became dependent, actually you still are. You contradict yourself too often.

Don't you remember what I have been put through..? By you, mostly. You were and still are so hypocritical that it makes me chuckle. Sigh- anyways, I couldn't fully comprehend anything you said during our visit. I couldn't gather the energy to move nor look at you, let alone reply to your bullshit motherhood quotes.

You left when the time was up, two weeks go by in a blur still ever so slowly, and they transfer me. People were able to reach out to me. A handful of people I love and cherish which includes my sister, my father, his girlfriend... the woman who has been more of a mother to me than you ever were.

It didn't take much time after me being in that God forsaken inpatient facility for me to be pulled aside by a nurse in a confidential manner. My brain threw around every possible reason as to why she was doing this.

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

Am I going home?

Are they moving me again?

What did I do wrong?

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

~ Nothing, stop with the assumptions~

She informed me that I had received multiple calls from a woman saying she is my mother but she couldn't pass it through because another woman, who ALSO claimed to be my parent/caregiver, had requested that this number (she was giving me )go on a restricted no contact list. She handed me a sheet of paper with with a number on it. Buttttt, it wasn't yours. So I had no idea what was going on. Who's my caregiver? Did my sister put you on the no call list? Nope. It wasn't your number and you never do wrong, so you denied having anything to do with that whole thing. I decided to call the number while the addiction groups were in the other room. I had no reason to be there so I had time to meditate, draw, socialize, or find out who was on the other end of that phone line.

It's obvious what I chose.

It took a few tries until someone finally answered. When they did I felt like an idiot. How could I not know.

You hated her because of how hard she tried to see me and my siblings. You had so many hateful things to say about her, yet no validation. It made you angrier when you told us about her then made her out to be a bad guy and we still got in touch with her. You hated that, didn't you. You hated it because the truth was going to come out if we found her.

Lady, I met my real mother when i was 11 years old. That was the day my father bought my favorite hat… a black fedora with a blue stripe inside of a purple stripe in the middle (which I still own). I was wearing this black shirt with a red graphic design on the front and back that was WAY too baggy on me and a pair of cuffed blue jeans, I do believe. It's been eight years, I have great memory but I'm not special like that.

If it weren't for daddy, my sister, and my brother... I would've never known who she was. Well, when I finally got ahold of my biological mother on the phone the day after I received the number by the nurse… she was genuinely upset. She said one thing that will stick to my brain for the rest of my life.

“I lost you once I can't lose you again”

You won't have to.

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buried-dreamer · 6 years

Text

Explaining myself: ask me, help me!

Okay...everything is stable for the time being. I guess it’s finally time to explain myself.

I'm not quite ready to share my real name, so for now, call me “Dreamer”.

I don't know how long it's been now. Days? Weeks? I at least know it hasn’t been months.

Regardless, some time ago, I was walking home from work, and decided to take a shortcut through the spillway of a creek by my house. That's where I found this suitcase.

When I found it, it was caught up on a small island of weeds, grass, and mud by the edge of the water. There was no one else around, so I rescued it and took it home.

I thought that maybe I could find something inside that could point me in the direction of the owner. Maybe they'd be offering a reward. At the very least it would get me some good karma, right?

I opened the case using the number carved onto the bottom. Inside I found pages upon pages of printed out articles about paranormal active, multiverse theory, string theory (none of which I understood), and a bunch “eye witness” accounts of people who encountered monsters. Along with the papers, there was a number of sketches and pages that looked like they'd been ripped out of someone’s personal journal. A journal belonging to a man named Daniel Frisker.

And from there...I honestly don't know.

I know the pages were filled with symbols I didn't recognize, creatures that no one should want to meet, and instructions on how to find them. I remember reading about a circle that could take you “elsewhere” as he put it, but I don't know what possessed to me to try and mess with it.

Any other time in my life I would've taken one look at some of the fucked up things this guy put in that case, and thrown it straight in the trash. Something compelled me to keep it around.

Was it a dare from my sister? A fun thing to do with me friends? Something I did for attention? Did I think it would bring Luna back to life and thought, “hey why not?”

I don't know. I can't remember right now. Everytime I think about it, the story changes, or it fades, or I start remembering things that I'll think back on later and realize that they never even happen...or did they? I just don't know anymore!

Well...I guess it doesn't matter now.

I know for sure that I built one of circles, using the materials Mr. Frisker himself had collected. I know that I stepped into it the next day thinking it wouldn't work. I know that it did. I know that I awoke staring up at a lavender purple sky filled with star-like sparks of color. I know that I was laying in a forest of dark blue trees as tall as skyscrapers, and smaller trees with ghostly white and golden leaves, with black knots etched into in the bark that would twitch and followed you around like watching eyes.

I know that next to me, was the case. I didn't bring it with me when I'd gone outside. It followed me.

From there, it's such a blur. All you need to know for now is that what you perceive as real is NOT all that is real! I know, because I’ve been living it.

For the past few weeks I've been using the notes left by Frisker to jump around between what can only be described as other universes. Some are only a little different from normal, and others are so far from what anyone could even comprehend that just trying to think about them gives me a migraine.

To make matters worse, this...thing...has been chasing me the whole time. Mr. Frisker’s notes refer to it's kind as “the black dogs.” It’s a fitting enough name.

I am lost in a maze of endless possibilities, with only this phone, everything that was in the case, and anything I can fit into as my anchor to my home.

I need a way out, and I'm put out the call to anyone who thinks they can help. There will be times I can't respond to you, and maybe long gaps of total silence, but for a of couple weeks at least, I'm safe and this location is stable.

I'll be posting more about the case and its contents over the next few days. I’ll also be posting some drawings of some of the stuff I've seen...at least the stuff I can remember at the moment.

I'll answer anything you ask me to best of my ability. In fact, I really want to be asked questions. I really want to get some of the things I've seen out of my head. I want to know that someone out there can see me.

I need know that you're there; that someone, anyone, is out there.

Please, ask away! Help me stay sane, so I can find my way home.

#elsewhere #black dog #bad dog #paranormal #what is real #what is in my head #help me #ask me anything

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mama-montgomery · 6 years

Text

Don’t Wanna Be Your Girl No More

Word Count: 2265

Warnings: ANGST, a lil fluff

Summary: Maybe Dacre’s just too perfect?

AN: Listen to Don’t Wanna Be Your Girl No More by Wet while you read this, like have it on loop.

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Atelophobia:

(Noun) A fear of imperfections; the fear of not being good enough

Origins: Greek, atelos ‘imperfect’

______________________________________________________________

It’s just not right, its

I can’t explain why I’ve been feeling this way. I don’t even know what brought this sudden epiphany but I can’t keep ignoring it. Every time I see you, it just nags at the back of my mind. Every time you smile at me my heart breaks a little more. Its like small cracks in fine China. How I managed to hold it together this long, I’ll never know. The guilt leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I can’t remember the last time I tasted the sweetness of your lips.

Everyday you wake up and run your fingers through my hair. You whisper sweet nothings in my ear until I wake up. You smile at me and your eyes shine brighter than the sun through our window curtains.

Every day you go to work but you never leave without telling me how much you’d rather stay home with me. You kiss my forehead and hold me in your arms before you reluctantly pull your arms away. Our elderly neighbor says she hasn’t seen a boy that head-over-heels in love since she met her husband.

Every night you lay with me in bed and we talk about our day. You lay your head on my chest and draw little circles on my hips while I play with your hair. I still don’t know if you like listening to my voice or the sound of my heartbeat. Eventually, you fall asleep and I stay awake, staring at your face. I always get so lost in the peacefulness of your face. Every time, I stroke your cheek and every time you smile in your sleep. I can’t tell you how many tears I’ve shed at that scene alone. I can’t tell you how many silent tears I’ve wiped away while you slept peacefully on my chest. You thought you were listening to my heart beating when really it was the sound of my heart shattering over and over again.

I don't wanna be your girl no more, no more I just wanna see your face at home, home, home

I remember when we first started dating. In the beginning, it was so surreal. I remember wondering if this was all a dream and if so, I never wanted to wake up. I used to think about our future together. I already planned out our wedding and picked out possible names for our kids. Our wedding was going to be fairytale themed because you said I was your princess, “far more beautiful than Cinderella.” I always prayed we’d have a daughter so we could name her after our mums and our son, Kayd, after you. I even pictured our first house together. I already knew how you’d design the furniture and couldn’t wait for all our trips to IKEA.

That dream is still here but it's now become a nightmare that I can’t seem to wake up from. It's like I’m in sleep paralysis and you can’t hear me screaming. I’m clawing at myself from the inside, begging you to wake me up and you don’t even notice. Maybe you were just as stuck as I was.

You can't do me right So I... decide that

We can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep going on every day knowing I’m not good enough for you, knowing I’ll never be good enough for you. You deserve the world and so much more. I can’t give you the world, the moon or the stars. I can’t even give you the street I live on. I can’t keep living in fear of the day you’ll wake up and realize everything I’ve realized. I can’t keep waiting for the day you’ll wake up and see me the way I see me. My heart can’t take the idea of you slowly pulling away. It can’t take the idea of you realizing you don’t love me the way you thought you did. I had a dream you met someone better, someone good enough for you. She was gorgeous with bright colored eyes and model long legs. She had a perfectly flat stomach and curves like waves. She had cotton soft hair and a pearly white smile to die for. She wasn’t me.

I don't wanna be your girl no more, no more I just wanna see you up and out, out of the door, no

I’ve felt like this for awhile now but I just can’t seem to leave. I just can’t be the reason you’re all alone and crying. I just can’t be the reason you no longer smile when you wake up in the morning and my side of the bed is empty. I wish there was a way I could leave and take all the pain with me. I don’t care how much pain it gives me, so long as you never have to shed a tear. But I never get what I want. So I watch you leave for work every day and hope. I secretly hope you get up and walk out the door on your own. I’d rather watch you leave a million times than have to listen to you yell my name as I walk down the driveway and out of your life.

I'm not living right So I... decide that

The guilt is eating me alive. Everytime you smile at me, it's another dagger to my heart. I’m not worthy of your sweet sentiments. Every time you hold my hand in yours, it burns my skin. I don’t deserve your tender touch. Every time you hold me in your arms, my lungs ache and I can’t breathe. I’m not good enough for your ethereal embrace. Every time you say you love me... I don't wanna be your girl no more, no more Don’t waste your time looking for me. I’ll be long gone before you even read this letter. I made my mom promise not to tell you where I’ve gone. Just move on and for my sake, fall in love.

-Y/N.

I won't hide the ways, I've tried It's just not right It's killing me tonight So, so

Dacre collapsed on his knees, sobs violently raking through his body. He pulled at his hair and yelled. He had gotten home to an empty dark house. You’d normally let him know before you went out so he was immediately alarmed. He walked around the house expecting the worst but nothing could prepare him for the piece of paper on your shared bed. Suddenly remembering you weren’t home, he looked around and realized all your stuff was gone. He ran around the house, it looked as if you hadn’t even existed. He rushed to grab his keys stopping when he saw pictures on the table. One of the pictures was on old polaroid ripped in half. He remembered it was your favorite picture of you two. You didn’t really care too much about how you looked in it but he remembers how cute you thought he was in his beanie. It became his favorite beanie afterward.

Dacre was in his car speeding through the streets. He had checked your old apartment but you weren’t there. He tried the park you used to love and again, you weren’t there. His thoughts were running a mile a minute. He tried to think of all the places you could’ve gone and if you were all right. Tears blurred his vision and as if that wasn’t enough, it began to rain violently. Dacre suddenly remembered the motel not too far from town the two of you had seen on your way home from one of your many road trips. He remembered you saying it was “cute” and that you guys should stay there on your next road trip. Not bothering to check the roads, Dacre made an immediate u-turn his car sliding on the slick roads.

You had just gotten off the phone with another one of your friends who had called to check on you. After you told your mom you had left home for a bit, she became worried and asked them to make sure you were alright. You huffed before falling backward onto the bed. The room was exceptionally clean for a motel. You noted all the little details around the room that added to the vintage theme of the motel before you realized you were simply trying to distract yourself from thinking about Dacre. He had to be home by now. Had he read the letter? Did he even notice you were gone? No calls or texts. Did he even care? Maybe he secretly wanted to break up and was happy you were gone. Is he happy now? You were torn from your thoughts when someone began to bang on your door. You had already called your friends to tell them you were fine so who else could possibly know you were here? You don’t remember telling Dacre about the motel so it couldn’t possibly be him. Hesitantly, you got off the bed and headed for the door before opening it.

The moment Dacre saw you through the slightly open door he rushed in, trapping you in his arms. He didn’t even wait for you to open the door all the way or bother to close it once inside. He could feel your body stiff in his arms, you hadn’t even tried to hug him back but he didn’t care. “What the hell is going on? What are you doing? Why would you leave?” Dacre pressed his face into your hair as he spoke his voice cracking. You stayed still for a moment before pushing him away staring at him with wide eyes, “I left you a letter-” “Yeah, I read your fucking letter, y/n. How could you possibly think that? That what? That you’re not good enough for me? That you don’t deserve me? Y/n, I don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you right now, but I am! You think I could do better? Y/n, unless the heavens opened up right now and a literal fucking angel came down, I could never do better than you! You’re all I ever wanted, no fuck that, you’re more than I could’ve ever imagined! You’re more than I ever even knew I needed! The sight of our apartment without you almost fucking killed me and you think it's best if you weren’t in my life? I know what’s best for me and that’s you and that’s why I’m here.” Dacre paused, his breath heavy from raising his voice. Tears streamed down his red face but he didn’t bother wiping them away. They were the least of his worries. You blinked away your tears away, taking a deep breath as his words finally hit you. Dacre had never raised his voice at you before. “Dacre, I can never give you what you deserve! I can never be that model chick who looks perfect on your arm! You and I both know that! Everyone knows that!” Your chest heaved from the strain of yelling and trying not to break down in a mess of sobs. Dacre had barely let the words finish leaving your lips before he yelling back at you, “Who said that was what I wanted!” Dacre quickly closed the gap between you two, holding your face in his hands. “Babe, I want you. I want all of you. I want only you. You’re perfect, not because people say you are but because I love you. Because I love every part of you, from your eyes down to each and every single birthmark on your body. You’re perfect because you’re mine and I’m yours. You’re perfect because you’re the only person I want to be mine and because you’re the only person I ever want to belong to. I can’t even begin to describe the love I have for you in my heart. I can’t even begin to describe how much it hurt when I thought I lost you.” You gripped onto his shirt, balling the material in your fists. “Dacre.” Dacre pulled your face to him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before squeezing you in his arms and resting his face in your hair. “Y/n, baby, please, please, please, please, talk to me next time. If you’re ever doubting my feelings for you, tell me. I’ll never get tired of telling you how much I love you. I’ll tell the whole world, the moon, the sun and the stars if I have to but darling please, don’t ever leave me like that again. Okay? Princess, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m in love with you, okay?” You could feel his tears falling onto your hair as his body shook with sobs. You nod your head unable to will yourself to speak. Releasing his shirt, you pressed your hands against his stomach. He released his hold on you and looked down at the floor tears still pouring down his face. You grabbed his face making him look at you before you pulled him to you, your lips colliding in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as if the two of you could merge into one being. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Not the tears still streaming down your faces or the open motel room door. Nothing but the man you held in your arms and the woman he held in his. Nothing but love.

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omgomgomgomg please don’t kill me for this, I cried writing this y’all.

#dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery imagines #dacre montgomery fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #jason scott #jason scott imagine

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