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withlovemark · 1 year

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to be loved - steve harrington

warning: mentions of steve's wounds, little angst! but it's a happy ending i promise

pairing: steve x reader

words: 2.3k+

summary: steve finally allows himself to believe in love again

an: i posted this a couple of days ago? and just now realized it got deleted. not really sure what happened there. anyways, found this in my drafts a week ago? (i have no concept of time). i didn't want to leave it rotting there so i wrote a quick ending and here you go. hope its okay!

three light taps, a knock that echoed throughout the boy’s dimly lit room, a sound enough to startle him after the events that have taken place in the past few days. not a single other person was in this house, a normality that he has accepted. steve’s parents were never around and he had no other relatives that would even care if he was still alive. his friends were a bunch of high schoolers, except for robin and…you.

he knows he’s messed it up with you. he can see it with the way you avoid his glances, the way you would choose to sit in the furthest chair away from him, the way you would get quiet when he was around and the way you stopped yourself from reaching out for him. the familiarity of your touch is no longer accessible, becoming only a memory. he can’t blame you though, your last words to him still replaying in his mind, loud and clear.

“i don't think i can do this anymore steve, i can't keep coming to your house, sleeping in your clothes, doing things that friends aren’t supposed to be doing, just for you to still be thinking about her.”

he’s about to roll over onto his bed. to sleep the remnants of the past away. to keep ignoring everything like he always does and get ready for a new day, pretending he was healed. that he was okay. he was not.

nowadays, it’s easier to slap a smile on his face instead of talking about his feelings. the last time he let himself truly feel something, he got his heart ripped out of his chest and trampled upon like it meant nothing, like it was a rock you could use to skip stones, one that you could let go of and not care enough whether it comes back to shore or get lost in the deepest parts of the lake.

another knock makes its way to his ears. he thinks he’s imagining it until another one comes. grabbing the bat he hid between his nightstand, he slowly made his way to his bedroom door, feeling absolutely drained. the pain on his stomach, from the demobats that got a taste, still stinging, a pain that travels throughout his body with every miniscule movement. slowly, he carefully unlocks his door, ready to swing, until his brown eyes meet your wide, shocked ones. letting out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, he slowly lowers his bat.

“hi,” you whisper, “i uh, got in using the spare key,” a sheepish smile on your lips, holding up the silver key that was hidden in the dead plant placed on his front door. the key he told you about so you could sneak into his house at any given moment. the key that led to love marks all over his body, painting pink and purple constellations. the key you haven’t used since that night you decided to end whatever it was there to end.

“you agreed to no feelings, that we would just be friends with benefits and that's it, you know that's all it could be,” steve has his face resting on his palm, his once perfectly styled hair going in different directions. like this - bare chest, lips still red from yours, neck stained beautifully by the artwork you left behind, he looked like he belonged in an art gallery.

“i-i know, but i-i couldn’t help it…it’s just so easy to fall in love with you,” a confession that leaves the boy paralyzed, doe, teary eyes staring up at his brown ones — almost pleading.

“stop. you don’t know what you’re saying.” he’s angry. mad that those words could slip past your lips so easily. mad that even though you’re looking at him like he somehow brought the moon to you, he still can’t find it in himself to believe it.

“steve-,” you try to reach out for his hand but he pulls away before you could even feel him. all you want is to pull him into your arms, to remind him that he is worth loving but you see the battle in his eyes, the war that’s taking place in his mind and you know he has his kingdom closed, walls up, ready to strike and defend himself at any second. there is no room for you in his castle, you see that now.

“i-im sorry,” your voice was gentle, afraid he’ll completely lock the gate on you. the last thing you wanted was to fight, you’re defenseless when it comes to him.

“let’s just pretend that none of this happened and we can go back to being friends, nothing changes and for the sake of us and the others, no questions asked,” his words were met with silence that cuts through like a sword against your neck.

you felt detached from reality, feeling like you were watching this conversation happen instead of being a part of it. you had no control when you slowly got off his bed and quietly switched back into your clothes, his words transferring a sort of numbness to your whole being.

he watched as you removed his t-shirt from your body and tossed it into his laundry bag, slipping back into your own clothes, making him think that his old t-shirt looked way better on you. yet all he did was watch. watched as you gave him one last forced smile and walked out of his room. the sound of the front door opening and closing traveling throughout the house.

the days that followed after were stolen glances, opposite directions, uncomfortable silences, tiptoes, lingering feelings, longing stares, tension. neither one budged nor made the effort to even act like friends, going along with the others like they were fools when in reality, there can be no one more foolish than the pair.

“hi?” he greets you just as quietly, head tilted, confused, like a puppy who was hearing a new sound for the first time. he sees you glance at his bandaged stomach, eyes traveling up to his bruised neck and notices the way you want to reach out to him but just like all the other times before, you stop yourself.

“i-uh i brought you some food, and a first aid kit,” your voice still a mere whisper, he nods, guards down, stepping aside as you walk into the room you’ve been in countless times before.

you placed the bag on his vanity, taking out it’s contents one by one and like before, he sat upon his bed and watched — a bowl that seemed to contain his favorite chicken noodle soup coming into view, it’s aroma hitting his nostrils, a clear tupperware filled with your famous homemade chocolate cookies, one that smells like home, the ones the kids would fight over with, resulting to an extra batch made just for him since he never won.

he suddenly realizes how hungry he was, not really having the motivation nor the appetite to keep his stomach full. his body responds by lightly growling, a sound he hoped you didn’t hear.

“you should eat,” you break the silence, looking at him through his vanity mirror, “gonna need all your strength back to make sure you can always play hero,” you send him a small smile, he softly chuckles at your words, eyes falling to his sheets which suddenly became interesting, when was the last time he changed his sheets anyway.

“i also brought you new bandages so you can change that every couple of hours, make sure it doesn’t get infected, with all these monsters around, that’d be the lamest way to go, y’know?,” you joked, trying to lighten the air. he stares at your back, contemplating. regardless of the fact that you were always an arm length away, he missed you.

he wants to be selfish. he wants to be taken care of, to be loved.

and for the first time in a while, his mind is silent, focusing only on the fact that you are there.

making his way over to you, he wraps his arms around your waist, hands falling on top of each other, sitting tightly on your stomach, his head hiding on the crook of your neck, light puffs of air falling from his lips causing goosebumps to rise all over your body. he feels you stiffen, holding your breath, before relaxing back into his chest, hand gently hovering over his. you stay that way for a while, a minute or two, before you turn around, still in his embrace. slowly your hands make their way to his neck, fingers dancing lightly around his red, bright scar and ever so gently, landing around his cheek, eyes on yours, “are you okay?”

with those three words, the gates open and with it came a river of tears. he shakes his head no and this time, he lets you pull him into your arms as he found solace in your warmth, your perfume that smelled like the sweetest of flowers, making him feel like the sun was on his back as he laid his head on your chest. your fingers immediately run through his silky hair and he feels like a huge weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

“thank you for being here,” his voice hoarse from the quiet cries that slipped past his lips, he pulled away, admiring the way the moonlight from his window reflected itself into your eyes, brushing back the strand of hair that dangled in front of them.

“i-i thought i was gonna lose you,” words that broke the boy’s heart. he can’t even imagine what he would have done if the roles were reversed. “i-i was so scared,” you continue, trying to hold back the tears that were begging to fall.

“hey,” rough palms making it’s way to your cheeks, softly caressing you, golden eyes shining, “you will never lose me.”

“haven’t i already?,” you cry out. you hated the way you danced around him like he was a stranger. hated the fact that you couldn’t allow yourself to find comfort in him, afraid you would cross the line that the boy remarkably drew out and completely lose access to him.

“no,” he lightly shakes his head, “ no….hey, look at me,” his finger under your chin, gently pleading for your eyes to find his. “i’m right here, i’m not going anywhere, i’m sorry i’ve been running, i was just…scared,” he admits.

“scared of what?,” you urge him on, waiting for the answer to the problem you’ve been trying to solve. his hands find their way around yours as he looks down, composing his thoughts.

“i was scared you would finally realize there will always be someone better, that you’d leave and i’d be all alone again,” he spills his truths. and you can’t fathom how blind you’ve been to not see it. the reason behind nancy appearing in his thoughts.

“i’m not her, you know?” you say quietly. he nods, “i-i know,” he says guiltily.

“and i don’t want better, steve…i just want you,” you confess into the night, steve feels all the air rush into his lungs, almost like he was learning how to breathe for the first time. he searches your eyes for any signs of doubt but only saw his own reflection in them.

“do you want me?” you barely heard your own voice, afraid of the answer. he scoffs, “god, is that even a question?,” you look at him, confusion etched onto the creases of your eyebrows and steve almost wished the bats got him instead of realizing that he has left you doubting his feelings for you.

“of course i want you,” his brown eyes staring deeply into yours, “i can’t get you out of my head, all this time all i wanted was to be near you, to hold your hand, god, y/n i’m in love with you and i prayed, god i prayed to a guy i barely believed in that we would both make it out there alive because i-i can’t imagine my life without you and-,” he’s breathless, telling you everything he has wanted for weeks. word after word stumbling out of his lips as your smile grew with every syllable, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

you pulled the boy towards you and like magnets, you connected, quickly placing your lips against his before your eyes drowned in your favorite color, the smile forming on his lips evident “i said it before but i’m in love with you too.”

his eyes soften, finally allowing himself to believe those words, soft lips meets yours once again, battling, making up for all the lost time, hands automatically finding its way up his brown curls like they were meant to always be there, his, around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible, fearing that if he let you go, you’ll disappear as if it was a dream.

but as you make that little sound, the one that drives him crazy, butterflies erupting in his stomach, he knows that this is better than any dream he could ever imagine. you were here with him. you were in love with him.

your hands slowly starts making its way down to his body, but before the situation could escalate, he can’t help but break the kiss off, the pain from his wounds still evident, he lets out a sharp moan, “ow,” snapping you back to reality.

“oh my god, i'm so sorry,” you apologize, inspecting his bandages.

“don’t be,” he reassures you, a light kiss placed upon your lips, “you’re worth it,” he teased, causing your giggles to harmonize, his forehead leaning against yours, a content sigh slipping off his lips. two eyes crinkling, sharing light smiles.

“as much as i would love to stare into your eyes forever” you break the dream-like state, “i worked really hard on that chicken noodle soup and it would be a shame for it to go to waste,” you laugh and he holds on to the moment as long as possible.

“now, we wouldn’t want that, plus we have forever to lovingly gaze in each other’s eyes,” he winks, sending you into a fit of laughter. he kisses you one more time before grabbing your favorite t-shirt, his t-shirt, in his drawer and handing it to you.

an: i really don't post in this acc unless i have something to post lmao. also, currently in my bridgerton phase so don't mind the profile pic, or do mind it? feel free to let me know your favorite bridgerton :)

#steve harrington x you #stranger things x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #love.c.#steve harrington x reader angst

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coryosmin · 4 months

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Final Sweet Nothings

Finnick Odair x fem! Reader

Summary: Finnick and Reader have both had feelings for a long time. Reader is the 68th Victor of the Hunger Games, winning her games at 18 years of age for District 4. As the 75th Hunger Games arrives, the reader volunteers in the place of Annie. As the night before the games arrive, Finnick and Reader share their thoughts and feelings for one another.

Backstory: Just to give you guys some backstory, Finnick and the reader are the same age. He was her mentor when she fought in her games and after that, the two of them became good friends. The two of them had always had unspoken feelings for each other but as the 75th Games comes up, they take a moment to admit their feelings for each other.

Warnings: Angst, crying, kissing, references to prostitution, confessions, no smut.

1,400 words

It all began when they arrived back from the interviews. It had been a very emotional night with every tribute trying to get the games to be canceled in some way, shape, or form. Y/N hadn’t spoken a word since the interviews had ended. Finnick giving a love poem to the Capitol felt too real. Y/N’s use of just simply trying to charm the cameras. Having heard everything that the other tributes said to try and get the games canceled, it was a lot to take in.

Y/N made it to her room without speaking. She immediately got herself out of the ridiculously provocative dress that she had been forced to wear to maintain her facade as the Capitol’s Princess. She walked into the attached bathroom, taking a shower to take off the caked-on makeup and the hairspray that was crunching her hair. When she finished, Y/n dried herself off and got herself dressed in her nighttime clothes which consisted of a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of yoga pants.

The twenty-four-year-old sighed to herself as she looked out the window of her room. She currently had it on a setting that would show her the ocean. The houses in Victor Village were right along the shore and truthfully, she missed being back home.

She was beyond saddened by the Quarter Quell. All the tributes were. Being a Victor was supposed to mean peace, at least relatively speaking. So when it was announced that all previous victors were to participate in the Quarter Quell, Y/N’s heart absolutely shattered. There was only one living District 4 male Victor, Finnick. They were both the same age, though Y/N won her games four years after him at the age of eighteen. Finnick was doomed regardless and Y/N felt deeply for him. He was her mentor. The boy that turned into her best friend. So when Annie’s name was called, without hesitation, Y/N volunteered. Why?

Because Y/N is a ride or die. If Finnick had to be subjected to the Games, she would be as well.

And now it was the night before the arena. Y/N couldn’t help the anxiety. There were so many things she wanted to tell people but ultimately, she had no opportunity to do so.

Suddenly, there was a knock on Y/N’s door, causing her to jump and get out of her thoughts. She walked over to the door and opened it, revealing a soft looking Finnick. It was different from his normal appearance, the one where he was always smirking, cocky, rizzing people up. But this Finnick, he looked scared. He too had gotten showered and changed into comfortable clothing. “Hi,” Finnick said softly, looking at Y/N with shiny green eyes.

“Hey,” She said back, looking at Finnick. Y/N moved to the side to let Finnick come into her bedroom. He stepped in and she closed the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

Finnick’s attention was to the window, seeing the waves crashing into the shore. “I forget that the windows have those settings,” he spoke, shaking his head as he looked at Y/N. “You didn’t speak much after the interviews.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I guess I didn’t have too much to say.” She replied, her e/c eyes looking into Finnick’s green orbs.

“Did you like my poem?” Finnick asked.

“It definitely made the hearts of the Capitol swoon.” Y/N replied, walking over to her bed and sitting on it. Finnick followed, sitting next to her. His thigh brushed against hers.

“Did it make yours swoon?” Finnick asked, his lip curling ever so slightly.

Y/N let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head no. “Takes a lot more than a poem to make me swoon, Odair.”

Finnick pouted slightly. “That’s a shame. I wrote it specifically for you,” he murmured.

This caused Y/N to pause. She furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

“The poem,” Finnick looked down at his hands in his lap. “I wrote for you.”

“What do you mean?”

Finnick looked up from his hands, looking at Y/N. He licked his lips nervously. “Under the circumstances we’ve been under, I never got the chance to tell you how I truly feel about you.” He gives a bitter laugh. “Being the toys of the Capitol. I didn’t want to burden you with all of it. But since we’re going to be walking on death’s doorstep tomorrow, I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now.”

Y/N looked at Finnick, not saying anything as she listened to him. Her eyes started softening as she looked at Finnick. The impending doom that they’re about to embrace together makes it easier to speak the unspoken feelings they’ve had for one another for quite some time.

“I’m in love with you.” Finnick said simply, his voice unwavering. “I have been for a long time but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to burden you with it.”

“It wouldn’t have been a burden, Finnick.” She replied softly, placing a hand on Finnick’s shoulder.

He looked down at her hand on his shoulder before gazing back into her eyes. “It’s stupid though, isn’t it?” He murmured. “Being in love with someone that you know you could never have due to the pathetic circumstances the world has put on you.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid.”

“Why not?”

Y/N turned her body so she was sitting criss-crossed on the bed, facing Finnick entirely. “Because it shows that even after everything the Capitol has put us through, forcing us to have sex with them, fight in these awful arenas, murdering innocent people, we can still feel.” Y/N’s voice was so soothing and honest as she spoke to Finnick. “I’ve loved you for so long, Finnick. And to know that you love me as well warms my heart so much.”

Finnick teared up as he listened to her, unable to help himself. He looked down, not wanting Y/N to see him so emotional. “I wish things were different.” He whispered.

“Me too.” She said back, reaching her hand to caress Finnick’s cheek. She lifted his face slightly so his eyes were looking into hers. “When we get in that arena, I want you to know that I love you so much. And if I’m to die, I’d die happily if it meant protecting you.” As she spoke, Y/N also began to tear up. The impending death really does make confessions much easier. But the emotions are just as hard.

A few tears fell from Finnick’s eyes as he listened to Y/N. He sniffled, pulling her into a hug. His chin rested on Y/N’s head, pressing a kiss to her soft hair. “I don’t think I’d ever survive you dying, Y/N,” He murmured. “If you die, I’d never be able to live with myself. To know that you died and I would be robbed of ever being able to hold you in my arms ever again. I couldn’t survive a day where I wouldn’t be able to see your beautiful smile any longer. Because you mean absolutely everything to me.” Finnick’s voice cracked at the end of his sentence.

Y/N couldn’t help the small sob that left her as she listened to Finnick’s loving words. She lifted her head from Finnick’s embrace, looking at his face with glistening eyes. “God I hate this.” She sniffled, using her hands wiping her eyes. “We should be able to be happy.”

Finnick gently grabbed her face, his thumbs on her cheeks. “Let’s make the most out of tonight?” He whispered, his eyes glossed with tears as well.

Y/N nodded her head. And with that, Finnick leaned in slowly, pressing his lips gently against hers. The two of them kissed one another with a softness and sincerity that they hadn’t felt in a very long time. A tenderness and care that could only be shared with two people who loved each other a lot.

After a few minutes, Finnick pulled away, pressing his forehead against Y/N’s. “I love you.” He murmured, his breath hitting her face.

“I love you a lot.” She murmured back.

“Let’s stay by each other's side until the end.”

“Until the very end, always.”

#finnick odair #fanfic #finnick odair x reader #the hunger games #catching fire #finnick odair smut #finnick x reader #thg series #thg finnick #finnick imagine #finnick x you

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dilutedconfusion · 3 months

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A Moth to a Flame

Eustass x F!Reader (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N is living on a small island in the New World. This takes place during the 2 year time skip, only a week after Kid has lost his arm to Benn Beckman. In need of supplies the Kid Pirates make their way towards Y/N’s island.

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Word Count: 2.8K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Something strange was happening.

Or moreover you could tell something strange was going to happen.

The island you lived on was simple. People came, people left, and very few stayed. A pit-stop for the adventurers. A home for the sullen and normal.

You lived with your parents still. Tucked away in a relatively normal house in the more rural area. You could move out but money wasn’t something that flowed freely into your hands. You worked a decent job, had small little hobbies, and tried your best to fill your days with something that didn’t feel forced.

Forced.

That word pressed against your skin and into your ribcage. A strangulation of necessity, expectations, and lack of will. Even the things you loved to do were hard to do. Your brain is a whirlwind of outcomes desperately clawing at you to mean something. Like a single dandelion seed floating over the ocean. Looking for some place to land, hoping the wind will carry it long to find ground. But you supposed that the wind was starting to die.

Even still you reminded yourself of something deeper. The way the wind would trace lines through your hands and hair. Clothes flush with your skin as you stare out onto the ocean. Heels and rear digging into the sand as you watched the blue and green hues of the ocean churn.

Everything felt right. Everything felt like there was something more. Some kind of escape just out of your line of sight, far off into the horizon.

You sifted around in your bag lined neatly at your side. Unlatching the small buckle before flipping it open. Pulling out a bright green apple for a simple little snack. Your canines snapping through its smooth skin before sinking into the soft grainy texture. Sour juice spilling on your tongue and even dribbling a bit out of the corners of your lips. You wiped off your chin with your sleeve. Tucking your torso into your bent legs as you take a moment to just relax.

Something is calling me out there. You thought to yourself. Feeling that all too familiar sense of longing in your core. I just wonder what it is.

__________

It started off as a deep chill up your spine. Goosebumps spread greedily across your skin. Making your hand pause, clenching around the pencil a bit tighter. You shot your head up from your sketchbook. A maze of doodles and scratched out drawings not good enough for your taste. The sun was still relatively high in the sky. Blue tugging at the corners of your vision as you looked up at the fluffy clouds. They were floating so idly but right now you wanted to be anything but idle.

You shoved your sketchbook and pencil into your bag in a sudden rush. Slinging the satchel over your shoulder before haphazardly standing up off the shore. With your legs feeling rather numb and the sand not helping much you stumbled along. Trying to close the gap between you and the little town you lived in.

There was a trail through a less dense patch of forest. Despite this, the trail was covered in ferns and even some logs laying on their side. You made quick work of walking through the trial. Keeping your gaze downwards as you let out a little annoyed huff. The tree roots seemingly trying their best to trip you.

“What am I even doing?” You muttered to yourself. The forest of course was not responding so you continued on. “What the fuck do I think I have? Some sort of sixth sense?” You rubbed your face in annoyance. Brushing your hair back you let out an annoyed groan. Knowing that this tendency you had to let even the smallest intuitive feelings lead you was a way to spice up your life. To find danger or something new. It had led you to trinkets stuck in the earth, caves, and a hidden oasis. But you’ve scoured this island hundreds of times. Nothing was new anymore so why was your intuition freaking out?

Another deep crawling sensation prickled at the back of your neck. Your body trembling as you slowly made your way closer to the edge of the forest. The dark shadow of leaves and branches spread across your face before your skin touched the sun once more. Heels clicking against the makeshift cobblestone trail you made your way towards the first signs of town. Grain fields on either side of you crawling with loud crickets and cicadas. A bright red farm house and a big rickety looking windmill turning at a decent pace.

You lived in the New World but from the looks of it most would’ve thought it was some unnamed island in one of the many blues. It had a noble city, up on the north end near the island's cliff edges. But you resided in the south, though unlike other low income areas across the sea yours was managing its own. Even if parts of it were…less than safe.

Bounding down the trail you kept your senses on high alert. Almost expecting some sort of uproar in the village or a huge explosion to send the ground trembling. That sense of danger and adrenaline sliding down your throat as you swallowed hard. A bit disappointed to find nothing.

People were walking through the relatively clean streets. Children running in groups and bumping into passersby’s. Stalls with shopkeepers smoking underneath their canopies. The rough scent of smoke was only a trace in the air as the hot grills cooked up an assortment of dishes. Each leaving a puff of steam huffing out and into the endless sky. Savory and spicy scents lapping at your nose as you briskly walked through the street.

You managed to weave through the crowd, watching peoples faces and almost hoping for them to be filled with some sort of surprise. Shock? Maybe even fear? Just something to indicate that this feeling, that was telling you something big was coming, wasn’t wrong. Grabbing onto the strap of your satchel slung around your shoulder a bit tighter.

Well…if it's not here yet. Then it must be coming soon. You thought trying to convince yourself this wasn't a waste of your day off. Just another measly attempt to make this life of yours interesting. You made quick work and slid into an alleyway. Taking the quick route towards the docks. By the first signs of seagulls flying high in the air you knew you were getting closer. Their annoying squawks followed by the sounds of thumping hammers from the shipyard.

You made your way down one of the few docks. They were old, green and rather damp at the bottom. Having been built before you were born so they’ve collected quite a lot of kelp and green slime. The top rows of wood creaked loudly as you walked across them but held strong regardless. Your eyes set on the ocean ahead before a voice stopped you.

“You come down ‘er to watch the sea again?” An old man, one you knew pretty well, popped his head out of his small fishing boat. Walking along its deck with a hammer in hand and looking down at you on the dock.

You halted and looked up at him, a distant but pleasant smile on your face. “I suppose. Got a feeling.” You mumbled to him, eyes drifting back to stare at the ocean. The sun was a lot lower than when you had last paid attention to it.

“Another one of those aye?” He said, almost with a bit of judgment but his tone immediately brightened up. “Well hopefully you’ll find what yer lookin for. Can’t have a young lass like you just sitting at the docks her whole life can I? Gonna get ya hypothermia doing that.”

You rolled your eyes a bit at that but he gave you a big smile. Though you could tell behind those fluffy eyebrows and small shadow of his hat he was worried about you. “I’ll be fine. I won’t get hypothermia or scurvy just sitting by the dock will I?” You said, cocking your head a bit and giving a little smile.

The old man gave a sweet little chuckle, his chest rumbling as he laughed. “Sure hope not.” He replied, wiping the tiny line of sweat across his brow.

You gripped your satchel strap a little tighter taking tiny steps forward. “Well I have a jacket and plenty of vitamin c so I’ll be off. Don’t go staring at me as I work. I don’t sketch well under pressure.”

The old man gave a fake little pout at that. “Not even a little peek? Ya know I love em. What you make.” You gave him a warm smile and waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Maybe when I’m done. But not now. Plus by the looks of it you have something to work on anyways. Keep slacking and I’m going to tell your boss.” You said with a bit of sass before briskly walking down the long dock and away from the small man's boat.

“Whaddya mean?! I am my own boss!” He yelled back at you giving yet another hearty laugh. That warm chuckle ringing in your ears but eventually faded off. Leaving you with nothing but the smooth rhythmic sounds of waves and the rather annoying seagulls.

This was something you did often so getting into the perfect position was almost as easy as breathing. The wood nearly carved into the shape of your rear right where you sat on the edge of the dock. You took your shoes off. Tucking the socks delicately inside each shoe so as to not lose them. Before letting your feet hang and sink into the deep and brimy water below. Cold spikes slamming up your legs from the sudden change in temperature. You’d hiss just a tiny bit to force your feet and calves to deal with it. Succumbing to the cold until finally it became more manageable.

Grabbing out the same sketchbook and pencil form before you propped it up on your lap. Taking one foot out of the water and placing it on the dock as you bend your knee. Making the perfect easel in your case.

As you chewed your lip you thought about what to sketch. You didn’t feel like continuing what you had already drawn. A new page for a new feeling felt better. So you just glanced down at the off-white page. Hoping and willing something would just pop out at you.

Eyes rolling up to land on the sea ahead you felt another breeze whip at your hair. Sure you spent almost every waking moment of your free time staring out at the sea. You had just come from another spot on the more secluded shoreline. But it seemed to you that you could never stop staring.

Drawn out whispers talking of a wide eyed girl staring longingly at the sea. Rumors that you had a lost love who floated away. Others thought you were yearning for a life out at sea. Or even just calling you airhead so lazy you’d rather just waste your time than use it. But none of that was true.

Because it wasn’t a lover you were waiting for. You never knew love. Or at least never dabbled in it despite your past yearnings. So being alone wasn’t a problem. It was all you knew. But at the same time a life at sea, though something you fantasized about, was not your reason for spending hours at shorelines.

You knew you would most likely get sick in a bad storm. Even the thought of trying to succumb to sleep whilst the ship thrashed was nauseating. You would probably get homesick or at least crave solid land. And…you were well…weak. Stronger naturally due to your more chubby and sturdy body. Taller than short women but shorter than very tall women. Yet nothing about you screamed prepared to put your life at stake. Which was exactly what the sea promised. It's a stakes game out there. You knew that.

And to be honest you enjoyed the simplicity of your life at times. The fact that you were safe, well fed, and had a roof over your head was a blessing. It’s much more than others who were from more impoverished islands could expect. You had the time to let your mind wander. The time to sit idly or explore. The quiet life filled with mostly solitude was a comfortable blanket you had sunk into a few years ago.

So people would whisper. Frankly, you didn’t give a shit. Let them believe you were sick for a lover that you’ve never had. Or that you were a lazy woman bound to live in her head rather than in her life.

You knew what you wanted.

Or at least you knew you wanted to want something and whatever that something is was out there.

An image randomly popped in your head. Making you tilt down to stare at your paper distantly as almost if you were drawn in by a trance.

A tulip. You thought, hand tightening around your pencil. I’ll draw a tulip.

__________

“What’s this island's name again?” Heat asked, hand absentmindedly tracing the scars running across his cheek.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Kid grumbled in response, his single flesh hand clenching the banister as he stood underneath Victoria's jaw. The helm clasped in Heats hand as he stared at the Captains back in front of him. That distinct red coat billowing in the breeze. The waves splashed up periodically giving the two of them a nice balmy spray.

Kid’s sharp eyes narrowed on the blurry and slightly indistinct line of the horizon. Knowing full well a small patch of an island would soon spring forth. A port for his men to take rest and restock the boat. A chance to breathe.

It had been only a week since Kid lost his arm. Ever since that day things were tense beyond belief. The crew was struck with perpetual fear and even anger. Kid was so reserved and distant he chose not to speak the moment he woke up on the medical table after it happened. Ever since then each response was short and harsh. As if he was forcing himself to talk.

Forced.

Kid thought. He wasn’t forced. By no means did he regret what he had done. He didn’t think he would lose. He was aware of the risk he was taking the moment he laid eyes on Ben Beckman. Willing to give an arm and leg just to take his dream by the balls.

And give a limb he did.

But it wasn’t exactly the phantom pain or the lack of a limb making everyday a harrowing experience. It wasn’t relearning how to do things on his own or feeling nearly hopeless holding his beloved tools now that his limb was gone. That he scolded himself for needing help. That the pain each day was something he’d grunt and deal with. What made everyday so perfectly harrowing was the way the crew viewed him.

Forced pity.

Was a better way to put it in Kid’s mind. Sure they cared. Sure they wanted Kid to feel better and get back up from this. But he was already up. In fact the second he woke up without a limb in his ship's medbay was the minute he got up. No qualms. No quarries. Just up and at ‘em. Another day to make his dream come true and nothing was stopping him.

Even if he suddenly didn’t have an arm.

But the pity felt grotesque. His swollen and bandaged stump was rugged with scars. Just a bleeding reminder of his own failure. He had spent every waking moment slaving away at a prosthetic arm. It was nearly done despite the many chairs and walls Kid had kicked in during the process. A permanent sheen of sweat lining his forward since the moment it happened.

His mind? Blanking it out. His body? Barely able to wake up in the morning.

This island would be the first island they docked on after the incident. Their ship in desperate need of supplies and more medical equipment. After reapplying countless bandages, gauze, and ointment for a week straight it seemed none was left for the other crew members.

So they needed this. Scratch that. KID needed this. To get away from his crew for a little while. To feel some solid ground underneath his feet.

Finally a small speck of something broke free from the horizon. Kid having stood there staring out onto the sea for a concerning amount of time. Almost lost in a trance that Heat was too afraid to break.

Kids' eyes narrowed once more. Taking in the small island from a distance and the smallest hint of relief washing over him.

He didn’t know exactly what would help to get over this but he knew whatever it was, was on that island.

A/N: I realize the reader character is a bit…wallflower like I suppose? Sorry if that’s not your cup of tea but I promise there’s more to her then meets the eye later on. The exposition of this story was really there to just let you understand her longing. Hope it worked and thank you for reading <3

#eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #kid pirates

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hypnoneghoul · 4 months

Note

i don't have anything specific but maybe could we get Dew/Rain or Mount/Rain filthy fic with piss pretty please? *puppy eyes*

oh anon i loved this... i chose mounty and rain and i hope you enjoy *wink* it didnt wanna get written tho so i hope it doesn't suck too bad because I'm not really happy with how it turned out

1,3k words, light puppy play, transmasc mountain (earth ghoul pussy <3), vag and anal sex and fingering, creampie, pissing in the ass because I love filth

Mountain got into those particular moods sometimes, when all he needed was to be taken out of his head in a specific way, only possible by the hands of one ghoul. Rain knew that perfectly well and cherished that knowledge.

This time it was no different. The earth ghoul was sulking around all grumpy, and Rain couldn’t take it. Not much conversation needed to happen when he looked at Mountain with that special look in his eyes. Soon enough they were in Rain’s room, Mountain standing bare before him.

“Want me to make it better, hm?” Rain purred, running his hands up and down the other’s chest.

“Please,” the earth ghoul whispered and Rain smirked. He grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down gently, just a suggestion. Mountain lowered himself down until his knees hit the carpeted floor with a thud.

“Good boy. You just need to be reminded of your place, yeah? Fucked and claimed but with love. I know, I know. I’ve got you,” Rain tutted, softly petting through Mountain’s hair as he floated further and further away. “I’ll fill you up soon enough. Go, hop up on the bed. I’ll be right there.”

Mountain was slightly reluctant to move away, but he obeyed, padding over to the bed and kneeling in the middle of it. Rain downed one more glass of water before joining him. “Hands and knees, Mounty. You know what I want.”

He did know, and he could feel his cunt clench and ooze out even more slick than it already did at the thought.

“Good puppy,” Rain praised him as he was slowly getting rid of his own clothes. His mouth watered and his cock twitched at the sight of Mountain’s damp pussy all plump and shiny with slick once his back was arched, presenting perfectly. He’d love to bury his face in it, but that’s not what the plan for tonight was. Another time.

The earth ghoul whined quietly into the pillow and while Rain would normally scold him for making unnecessary noise and being greedy, this time he took it as a sign to bring his fingers up and finally touch him. He dipped a finger in between his folds and dragged it through amounts of slick that could rival a water ghoul. He let out a small gasp when Rain’s cold finger made contact with his flushed pussy, but before he could get any meaningful stimulation it was gone.

“Delicious,” he heard Rain murmur behind him and soon enough the tips of two fingers sank slowly into his cunt up to the third knuckle. Mountain moaned and arched his back even further, tail hooked high up over his hip. “There we go.”

Both of them knew this wasn’t supposed to be the focus of his handwork, though, and as if on cue, Rain’s fingers retracted from the earth ghouls cunt again and scooped up some more slick before moving higher up to his asshole.

“You ready?” A high pitched whimper muffled by the pillows was an answer enough, so he gently pushed a finger in, reveling in the tightness. He couldn’t wait to feel it around his dick. Later, though.

Rain fingered Mountain slowly, carefully stretching him as he tried so very hard to keep relatively quiet and still. Soft praises escaping from Rain’s mouth all the time most certainly didn’t help in keeping the earth ghoul’s mind present. It was alright, though. His brain wasn’t needed.

One finger became two and then three and soon enough Rain deemed Mountain ready for getting somewhat of a relief. He tried his best to be good, to be a good puppy that deserved Rain’s attention, that deserved to be fucked, filled and claimed by him.

The water ghoul patted his ass playfully and moved up onto his knees, his hard and leaking dick begging for stimulation, too. Rain dragged the tip through the wetness of Mountain’s folds and brought it to his very entrance.

“Gonna get it soon, puppy, just relax for me and take it,” he sighed and slowly pushed in, spearing Mountain on his cock inch by inch until his hips were flush with the other’s ass. They both shuddered as Rain waited, giving the two of them a moment to adjust. He folded over the earth ghoul to lovingly nuzzle his face into his already sweaty back, but the position put uncomfortable pressure on his full bladder. Less time than he thought, then.

“P– please,” Mountain whimpered, wiggling his hips, and Rain groaned as he slowly pulled out so just the tip stayed in.

“Gotcha, pup,” he grunted and thrusted back in, making both of them moan in unison. It felt too good and the filthy squelch of Mountain’s wet cunt was making Rain truly dizzy. He groaned and moaned as he fucked in and out of the earth ghoul, chasing only his own pleasure. Mountain would get his reward later.

Rain gripped the other’s hip with his fingers, dimpling the flesh. The thoughts of what was to come, what was about to happen, was egging him on, getting him closer and closer to the edge. It was all for Mountain, but Rain got off on it just the same. The earth ghoul was getting desperate, though, pushing his ass back and whining like a truly hurt little puppy.

“Nearly there, pup,” Rain breathed out, eyes squeezed shut as he thrusted a handful more times before his body tensed all up and he moaned loudly, spilling his load deep inside Mountain’s cunt. The earth ghoul himself was close, too, betrayed by the almost perfectly timed clenches and twitches of his insides and he didn’t have to spit out his pleas for Rain to know.

“Please, please, Rain, n– need it,” he babbled as he had to physically restrain himself from cumming before he got what he wanted. What he needed. The water ghoul wouldn’t dare to disappoint him, though. He pulled out before he could go truly soft, reveling in the sight of the wet mess of slick and cum that Mountain’s cunt was now, and even though Mountain knew he was not going anywhere, his fuzzy brain registered abandonment. He couldn't take not getting it. He cried out, tears pooling in his eyes, “Rain, please…”

“I‘m here,” he groaned and all but shoved himself into the earth ghoul’s ass. They both cried out this time, Rain at the overstimulation and Mountain at finally being so close to getting what he so desperately wanted. Rain’s forehead thumped against the other’s spine as he snaked his hand under him to toy with his clit.

“Are you ready, baby?” he asked once more and Mountain wailed, clenching around him. Rain hissed and squeezed his eyes as he relaxed as best as he could and let go.

The earth ghoul sobbed as his orgasm washed over him when warm piss started filling him up to the brim. Rain lay limply bent over his back, panting, and Mountain was shaking and crying, his legs giving out, making him flop down with the other ghoul clinging to him. He was filthy, soaked with slick, cum, sweat and piss, but he had never felt so at peace as now. Pleasantly filled, claimed and so close to Rain.

The room was filled only with the sound of both their heavy breathing for a good few minutes, the water ghoul sprawled out on top of Mountain with his dick still inside his hole, as piss slowly trickled out of him.

“Feel better, pup?”

“Mhmmm…”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #cw piss

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aamalaaa · 2 years

Text

Lifeline | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: bestfriends to lovers au, hurt/comfort, jk is so understanding, fluff, romance, reader is sad but it'll be ok

warnings: reader suffers from depression but doesn't know it, it gets a little heated but there's no smut

word count: 3.6k

a/n: sooo, this was supposed to be a drabble and yet.. I got a lil carried away. I hope you like this, I've wrote this from my own experience with depression, I hope you can find comfort in it, you're never alone and I love you<3

It’s been days, weeks now that you’ve been feeling like this. Nothing happened, nothing dramatic. You still go to work, still talk to your friends. On the outside, things seem as normal as they usually are. You seem okay, maybe a bit indifferent.

You’re not.

You’re not okay, you feel like not enough air gets into your lungs, you feel heavy, tired, like the weight of the world is too much to endure. You still manage to look relatively okay, you shower, put on makeup, make sure your clothes are clean and fit well together when you put an outfit together.

You haven’t washed your clothes for weeks though. You only have a few things left in your wardrobe, the rest of your clothes lay on a chair, on the floor of your bedroom, your couch and next to the shower.

You didn’t clean up your room, kitchen, bathroom or anything in your apartment really. It doesn’t look good, you can’t stand to leave the lights on because you’d have to face the mess and feel bad about it. You don’t feel like you’re doing enough, you feel incompetent and lazy.

You don’t cry though, can’t bring yourself to. Staying awake and going to work is tiring enough, you can’t muster enough energy to cry on top of that. You wish you could, maybe it would help. Fill the empty hole in your chest, make you feel something again, replace the shame and tiredness with something else. Anything not to feel like this, empty, unmoored.

You’re laying in bed when you hear it first, a soft knock. Your ears perk up at the sound but you still stay wrapped up in your duvet, even bringing it up a little above your head, trying to drown out the noise.

But the noise doesn’t stop, it’s at your front door and it gets louder and louder. Though it stays gentle, like the instigator knows you can’t handle more, loud and constant noises make you feel overwhelmed these days.

You groan loudly before throwing the duvet off your body in one swift motion, making you shiver instantly at the contact of cool air against warm skin. You need to up the heat here, or maybe put on something that isn’t tiny shorts and a tank top.

You barely have anything else in your wardrobe though, goddamn you need to wash your clothes.

You slowly trudge to the front door, hoping the visitor will get tired and go away before you get there. But he doesn’t and you have no choice, someone came up here to see you and you can’t be this ungrateful. Won’t let yourself be.

So you card your hand through your hair to try and tame it before quickly opening the door to its full extent.

The black haired man stares at you with his wide doe eyes, hand stopping mid motion in the air where the door was, a black tote bag in his other hand.

You stare back, shock clearly visible all over your face. If you didn’t expect one thing, it’s to see Jungkook at your doorstep, looking this fucking hot in black sweatspants, a black longsleeved shirt and an equally black baseball cap to match.

“Kook, what are you doing here? Did we have something planned? I forgot didn’t I- Ah shit! I’m so sorry, my mind’s a bit of a mess today..” You anxiously blurt out.

Jungkook awkwardly brushes a strand of hair beneath his ear. “No, no we didn’t have anything planned, don't worry,” He hurriedly says, noticing your nervousness. “I just-“ He pauses. “I hadn't heard from you in a few days and you didn’t respond to my texts so I decided to pay a visit..”

And if his appearance wasn’t enough to make you melt into a puddle of goo, his explanation sure is. Because how could he be this attentionate and caring?

You’ve known Jungkook for a few months, meeting him through your group of friends and you quickly grew closer, became good friends even. And you may or may not have a huge crush on him but that’s another story and you’re not about to admit it out loud, not now, not ever. If he liked you that way he would’ve told you already, you’re not about to burden him with your feelings.

But you’re fine being just friends, he’s an amazing person and you couldn’t imagine your life without him now, he’s the funniest and kindest person you’ve ever known. You can keep your emotions under check, maybe they’ll even settle down after a while.

Though you doubt it considering the way your heart beats loudly against your rib cage only from standing a few feet away from the man. Oh well.

“Oh.. that’s very kind of you,” You breathe out.

Jungkook shoots you a dazzling wide smile and you almost faint at the sight.

“Sooo, can I come in? I got a few things for you,” He lifts up the tote bag he’s been holding.

Your heart skips a beat, god he’s making it very hard for you not to completely fall in love with him.

“Umm..” You start, unsure what to say.

He can’t see your place like this, he’d probably run for the hills. “My place’s a bit of a mess and I was planning on cleaning up today-“

“I can help!” He enthusiastically cuts you off.

You stare at your feet, wiggling your toes around. “I mean you don’t have to, it’s fine really and you must have better things to do..” He can’t see your place like this.

He snorts. “I have the day off, let me help, I want to! Plus, I brought food!” He says, a hopeful smile etched upon his mesmerizing face.

Goddamn fucking Jeon Jungkook, you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking at you like that.

“I- Ok but please don’t judge, I’m just very busy,” You step out of his way, motioning for him to come in. His only reply is a nod before he slides in through the door.

He spends a moment, and only a moment to observe your apartment before heading towards the kitchen counter and dropping the bag he’s been holding.

You’re so fucking embarrassed, he’s probably gonna judge you or worse, pity you. Though he would never say it out loud, that’s not Jungkook.

“I’ve seen worse,” He gets out a few supplies from the bag and puts them on the counter.

“Please don’t lie, it’s disgusting,” You sigh, picking up a few stray clothes on the floor to throw them on the couch.

He lifts up his eyes to you, gaze locked into yours. You hold it for a few seconds before dropping your eyes to the ground, a rosy tint adorning your cheeks.

“What’s going on?” He gently asks, dropping the broccoli he was holding on the counter and stepping closer to you.

You shrug and nervously fiddle with your fingers, refusing to meet his gaze. You can’t do this, you’ve been really good at keeping your emotions at bay.

You can’t give up now.

But he doesn’t relent. “What’s wrong?” He’s very close to you now and you shyly peek at him before dropping your eyes to your hands again.

He softly takes both of your hands in his, stopping you from fiddling with them. And you can barely hold it in now, you have no distraction to focus on instead of the gaping hole in your heart, threatening to split your whole being in two any moment now.

“Nothing, don’t worry,” You croak.

He drops your left hand to bring his right one up to your chin, tilting your face upward slowly, forcing you to look at him.

You feel them, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, ready to spill out.

He stares at you, an incredibly concerned look in his eyes and caresses your chin softly with his thumb. “Talk to me, please.”

And that’s all it takes for you to lose it, tears flowing freely on your cheeks like cold rain on a fogged up window. You bring your hands up to your face, hiding to the best of your abilities behind them.

“I- I d-don’t know Kookie, what’s wrong with me?” You hiccup, the sound muffled by your palms.

Your heart almost splits in half when your friend takes you in his strong arms, your head laying in the crook of his neck, and strokes your hair in soothing motions. Which only makes you sob harder.

He doesn’t say a word for a long time, settles on stroking your hair and leaving a few kisses on top of your head.

You manage to calm down after a few minutes, but not before you leave a big wet spot on his shirt.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, your shirt is ruined.”

He chuckles warmly and leaves another kiss on your head before replying. “It’s just a shirt.”

You nuzzle a bit closer in his neck, taking in the calming jasmine scent. It’s grounding, like a deep rooted tree in the middle of a storm.

“Do you want to sit down and eat?” He asks, voice just shy of a whisper.

You shake your head no, pressing even closer in his embrace, not willing to let go. Which prompts a loud chuckle out of Jungkook.

“You need to eat, we can lay around and do nothing after.”

You groan, but ultimately step away. Jungkook lets out a small laugh, strokes your hair once more and sweeps his thumbs under your eyes to try and dry your wet cheeks.

You can’t help the furious blush that creeps up your neck and all the way to your cheeks, though you can hide your face behind your hair. So you do.

Jungkook coos before heading towards the kitchen counter, getting to work immediately.

You’re mostly silent, though Jungkook manages to make you laugh a few times with his antics. You eat the meal he prepared for you, not missing the way he constantly peers at you to make sure you’re eating.

You almost eat all of your plate, you’d feel entitled and ungrateful not to. But there’s so much your stomach can take, and the portion he gave you was twice what you’d usually eat.

“This was amazing, thank you,” You smile.

He smiles back, that bunny grin of his you love so much. “My pleasure.” He replies, a slight blush making its way onto his cheeks. “Got anything you want to do this evening?” He tilts his head to the side before getting up and dropping his plate next to the sink.

“I was thinking of just like, watching a movie or something. You don’t have to stay, really,” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he would stay.

Which is why your heart swells ten times its original size at his response.

“I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to leave,”

You shake your head. “No.. stay.”

He smiles bashfully before taking your plate and cleaning the dishes he had used for the meal. You get up and join him, picking a rag up and drying the clean dishes before you put them in the cupboards.

It takes a few minutes, silence reigning peacefully over the both of you, the only sounds breaking it being Jungkook whistling quietly and water splashing in the sink.

When you’re both done, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom and you take that moment to change into a large black t-shirt and slide under the covers of your bed, using the remote controller to turn on the television.

When Jungkook comes back into the lounge, he chuckles at the sight of you snuggled deep under the covers, a plushie between your arms, scrolling through netflix for a movie to watch.

You quirk your brow at him questioningly when you see him awkwardly standing next to the bed.

“What are you standing there for?” You playfully question.

He cards a hand through his hair, seemingly nervous. “Well.. where do you want me?”

You stare in shock, mouth agape before you break out into a loud cackle while Jungkook frowns in confusion. “What? What did I say?”

“Oh Kook,” Your laughter dies down progressively. “It’s nothing.” You pat the empty side of your bed, smiling amusedly at the black haired man.

He shrugs, confused but still hops on the bed, keeping a safe distance from you, much to your dismay.

“Get under the covers Kookie,” You stare him down.

“O-ok,” He tentatively slides under the covers, fully clothed.

You press play on the title you chose and scoot closer to Jungkook, feeling him stiffen at the proximity. “What’s wrong?” You question, feeling shy all of a sudden. It’s not your first time cuddling with him, so why is he being weird about it?

He exhales slowly before responding. “I just-“ He stops himself, rubbing at his eyes anxiously. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this.. I know you’re feeling vulnerable and sad right now, I don’t want to take advantage of that.” He almost whispers the last part, while you can only look at him curiously, not quite understanding what he means.

“We cuddled before, what’s different?” You question, straightening up.

He shoots you an indecipherable look before scooting closer to you. “Nothing, come on over.”

You giggle and drape your arm around his stomach, your head resting on his chest. The soft rhythm of his heart puts you at ease almost instantly.

You both watch the movie in silence, Jungkook occasionally stroking your hair, making you shiver each and every time.

After a while he breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?” He breathes out against your hair.

You sigh in resignation. Of course he’d want to know, and it’s understandable. You did have a full on breakdown in his arms, after all. You just don’t know what to say, don’t know what’s wrong. You just know something is.

“I’ve been feeling kinda.. off, I guess?” You start, voice uneven. Another gentle stroke of your hair. “Like I have no energy, I don’t want to go out or do anything, I can’t clean up or do anything except go to work..” You feel him shifting his head a bit, probably looking at you.

You don’t meet his gaze and continue. “It’s silly really, don’t worry too much.”

He sighs and tilts your chin up with his free hand. You slowly lift your eyes, meeting his own. He seems conflicted and hurt. You don’t understand.

“How could you say that?” He observes you carefully. “I care about you, of course I’m gonna be worried. And it’s not silly, it’s important. I want you to be happy, so happy. You deserve it, you deserve everything good. How can you not see that?” He cradles the side of your face with his hand, you blush profusely, your heart beat going absolutely frantic. What the hell is going on?

“I- I’m sorry..” You don’t know what to say, apologizing seems like the right thing to do, seeing the pained look on his face.

His hold on your face gets stronger as his eyes widen. “Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong, except thinking so poorly of yourself.” He exhales. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad about it, I’m sorry.” He strokes your cheek tenderly.

You can’t stop staring in his big eyes, like under a spell of some sort. It’s just hard not looking into them when they seem to hold the whole galaxy.

You open your mouth to speak, but close it soon after. He sends you a questioning look.

It takes you a few seconds to reply. “I don’t know what to say..” You murmur.

“You don't have to know what to say, we’ll figure it out together,” He gently replies, shooting you a soft smile in the process.

You almost cry again as his words register in your head. You inhale shakily. “Why-“ You gulp. “Why would you do that for me?”

He brings his head down, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. “Why do you think?” He whispers, a peachy tint appearing on his cheeks.

You frown in confusion, using your hand to stop his movements. “Because you’re a good friend? Why are you being so cryptic?” You ask, completely lost

Jungkook chuckles fondly before looking back into your eyes. “I’m really gonna have to spell it out uh,” He cradles the side of your face once more before timidly smiling at you.

“I guess so?” You unknowingly snuggle closer into his hand.

“Will you let me show you?” He strokes your hair with his long fingers, spurring on a shiver out of you.

You send him a puzzled look. You’re so fucking lost. “Um, I guess yeah?”

He looks at your lips before gazing into your eyes again, then stares at your lips once more.

And your heart might leap out of your chest because then, he gets a little closer, his face a few inches away from yours. His breath fanning over your cheeks makes you shiver.

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs, so close you can almost feel the vibration of his voice onto your skin.

“Can you what-“ You squeeze his hand on instinct, the one you were still holding.

“Kiss you,” He replies cockily, raising a brow.

“Uh, what-“ What’s going on, and why are you so socially inept. “Why would you-“ You loudly gulp, not finishing your sentence.

He nervously chuckles. “Because I-“ His voice cracks, and he tries to move further away from you. You scream internally. “It’s ok if you don’t want to. God I’m sorry I didn’t-“

You cut him off by tugging on his arm and crashing your lips onto his before even realizing what you’re doing. The angle is awkward and your lips collide almost painfully. You don’t care though, can’t bring yourself to.

At first, you both stay there, lips pressed against the other’s, unmoving, surprised by the sudden closeness. But soon enough, Jungkook kisses you back, sighing happily while his soft lips caress yours. You start moving along with him almost immediately, it’s almost like a dance, really.

You feel him shift as he adjusts your position, laying you down backwards and hovering over you, tilting your head back a few inches to deepen the kiss.

Your brain is foggy, you can’t even think or do anything but kiss back hungrily. Like his lips are a lifeline and you’re lost at sea. Latching onto him with unrivaled passion, your hand gripping the hair at the back of his neck pleadingly, soft whimpers escaping your throat only to be swallowed by the man holding you together like glue.

You fist the front of his shirt so forcefully your knuckles turn white while Jungkook nibbles at your bottom lip. You can feel him smirking against your mouth when you let out a loud whimper. He uses that moment to slide his tongue against yours, groaning in the process, lapping at your mouth like a dehydrated man.

And if this is a dance, then Jungkook is a master dancer. And the avid apprentice you are, you’re willing to learn every step, over and over again until you know them by heart.

You slide your hand under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his bare skin and defined abs you thought about more often than you’d be willing to admit. You notice him shivering at the contact of your hand on his stomach and that only serves to spur you on even further, up his ribs and chest.

It goes on like this for a long time, parting for oxygen from time to time, only to come together again. Jungkook and you battling for the lead, though you always end up happily losing the battle. And after a while it gets softer, gentle caresses and long, languid strokes of tongues intertwining together in complete harmony.

Jungkook slides his thumb above your eyebrow, leaning away for just a moment before leaving a quick peck on your lips. When he lets go of your lips, you try to chase his own needily, only to hear a gruff, quiet laugh from the man you just spent the better half of an hour kissing.

You open your eyes and pout at him, which is apparently really funny because he laughs even harder.

Your pout deepens and you try to push him off with all the strength you can muster, which is admittedly not a lot.

He coos at you before leaving yet another soft kiss on your lips, making you sigh happily.

“I guess you wanted to,” He confidently comments, a small smirk lifting the side of his red swollen lips.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Great guess, Sherlock.”

Jungkook settles down next to you, tugging you closer to him as he does. You wrap your arm around him and lay on his chest, just like you did earlier. Except now it feels more intimate and the butterflies in your stomach roam freely around your body.

You don’t even notice you’re dozing off until a strong hand gently shakes your shoulder, you hum in response.

“Do you want me to go?” You hear a scratchy voice murmur in your ear.

You frown and shake your head. “Nuh-uh, stay, please..” You’re barely able to get the words out in your sleepy state.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” He responds, snuggling even closer to you. You suspire contentedly.

As you slowly slip into unconsciousness you ask one last question.

“Are you gonna be here when I wake up?” You slur.

You barely register a soft peck being laid upon your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

a/n: this is the link for the general taglist for my writings<3 click here!

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avvail-whumps · 6 months

Text

‘the facility’ — pre-breakout 2/3

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content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, dehumanization, non-con drugging, unethical medical practices, interrogations, violence, blood, slight gore, torture, drug-induced torture, reluctant whumper

Noah realised, with a somewhat growing feeling of discomfort, that his Apoid was right.

When he was escorted to his room, the first thing he noticed was that all of his things had been tranfered from Level One and neatly placed in their respective spots. All of his books were organised and stacked onto his shelves, and his clothes were hanging up and folded in drawers when he had a quick peek. There was never anything decorative or special about their rooms; the scientists spent the most important part of their days in the laboratory or with patients.

He jabbed the lock on with a sudden echausted sigh. He hadn’t even realised it at the time, but he’d been so tense that his muscles were almost aching. He forced his shoulders to slouch, eager to peel his white jacket off and dump it in the laundery basket.

He was more tired than he realised.

His eyelids were drooping and the enticing looking bed was becoming more tempting by the second.

It wasn’t much different to his room on Level One, but there was more privacy. He switched the light on in the bathroom and realised it was all for himself. He fiddled with the shower before stripping off all of his clothes, and hopping in. It was steaming hot against his sticky skin, but it felt nice to scrub off all the stress grime that had built up. When he was done, he got himself ready just as the lights dimmed by themselves.

That was usually the time he was supposed to be asleep.

Maintaining a healthy sleep schedule was greatly encouraged in the Facility, and who was Noah to argue with the simplist of rules? He wasn’t eager to get terminated so early on over something so silly.

As his head hit the pillow, his thoughts unwillingly drifted towards Cash— or no, Prisoner Seven. They weren’t meant to know their names, otherwise that would humanise them too much. Noah had been told that these men and women were anything but human, having done unspeakable things. He tried to keep clinging onto that thought as he drifted off to sleep, dreamless and relatively pleasant.

He was harshly awoken hours later when the lights brightened up again, and a small, sleepy groan escaped his lips. He clambered onto numb legs, untwisting them as he made his way into the bathroom, the cold tiles biting into his bare feet. He cleaned himself up until he was refreshed, and slipped into his normal attire. A white coat draped over his frame, and he looped his new lanyard around his neck. This time, it had a large number nine instead of one. His stomach swooped, before tearing his eyes away anxiously.

Maybe he would feel better after some food.

When he opened his door and turned the corner, he wasn’t expecting to bump into something hard. His feet skittered backwards slightly, and his head snapped up in shock to be met with an Apoid standing by his door. From the way he turned to look at him, Noah was swiftly able to deduce that this was his Apoid, the one that was apparently assigned to him. His foul mood suddenly came bursting in, and he couldn’t help but frown in annoyance.

“You,” he dryly muttered under his breath, staring at the face completely hidden by the blackened visor of his mask. “What are you doing outside my room?”

He’d asked the question on instinct, but again, he hadn’t been expecting the Apoid to actually respond. The modulation in his voice made his spine tingle again.

“I’m assigned to you,” he spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to be heard. “Personally.”

Noah anxiously fiddled with his white collar. He knew that, of course, but his stomach was tightening from hunger and he didn’t feel like standing around like a log for much longer, staring at a faceless guard. He swerved around him, feeling a twinge of annoyance when he started following closely behind. His steps were slower and much more measured than his own.

“So does that mean you’re going to follow me around everywhere?”

The guard was quiet now. Noah couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Then how about you at least tell me your name?” He tested hesitantly, glancing behind him for a brief second as he walked towards the direction of the refectory. “Since you’re not going to leave me alone for a while.”

The Apoid shook his head. “I’m not authorised to tell you that.”

“You’re also not authorised to speak to me, and definetly not in front of other patients,” he countered. “But you did that anyway. You’re doing it right now.”

The modulation grew sharper, exemplifying his annoyed tone. “That was different. It was necessary.”

“And?” Noah shrugged, stopping just before the corner to turn and glance up at him. “You know my name. You’re my Apoid, why can’t I know yours? Who’s going to know?”

The Apoid stepped closer, prompting Noah to back up in a flurry of fear. “Keep moving,” he growled, and only spoke when they had cleared the corner, and resumed their original pace. “It’s Fionn.”

Noah’s eyes perked up.

“Are you—?” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Is that Irish?”

“I’m not authorised to tell you that.”

His smile faltered. It was strange to even hold such a delicate piece of personal information on somebody like an Apoid, who he always saw as black blocks of protocol and intimidation. He was eager to ask him more questions, but as they approached the refectory, it became busier along the wide corridors, and Noah wasn’t going to risk getting caught breaking protocol.

It was a little uncomfortable to have Fionn hovering over him while he ate, but Noah noticed that some other scientists had Apoids hovering beside them too. Fionn had even nudged him gently and quietly asked if he’d taken his supplements.

Noah had forgotten, and he went to retrieve them. Seeing as he was maintaining Noah’s health, the small conversation they exchanged wasn’t a problem.

Personnel came to retrieve him quickly enough.

He was taken to the laboratory where he found himself quietly working on the drug that would later be used for Cash’s scheduled time in the torture room. There were other scientists present in the big room as well, but Noah had swiftly learned to keep his head down and dilegently match their vigorous work effort.

Fionn was close by, and although it had put him off at first while he worked, time sped by quicker than it ever had before. He had been working on the toxicity of a liquid form of this drug which was labelled TN-6, when Personnel came to collect his again.

Noah’s sense of time was so warped, he wasn’t exactly sure how much time had really passed.

He could feel his heart starting to pound in his chest as he moved through the layout of the hallways, back to that sordid room where he was first taken. He’d taken a sample of the TN-6, as requested by Personnel, making sure to take the one with less toxicity. He assumed the point of the session today would be to test to natural defences Cash’s body would impliment when infected by the drug, as well as monitor how it affects his vitals.

That’s what Noah assumed until he saw an interrogator waiting in the torture room. They always wore dark orange bands around their arms to signify their job, as well as a dark balaclava mask over their faces to hide their indentities. Noah had never seen one before, since Level One was incredibly tame and torture was barely required. He lowered his things down on the desk against the wall, eyeing up the prepared tools for him to use.

Practically similiar to yesterday.

Instead of a table in the middle of the room, there was a chair fixed with strong metal cuffs on the arms and ankles. The interrogator was leaning against the wall, arms folded and finger tapping periodically. Two Apoids flanked the door as usual, and Fionn had stayed very close to his side the entire time. He eyed the big machine, no doubt for him to hook Cash up to to monitor his vitals.

Noah let out a shuddering breath. Shit.

He’d never witnessed an interrogation like this. Not with an actual interrogator. Part of him was unnerved that a drug he’d hardly tested was being used on him already, especially knowing the possible consequences of it. Then again, if Cash went into critical condition, it would be Noah’s job to nurse him back to health in the infirmary. At that thought, his nerves were suddenly set alight.

Even as Cash was escorted inside, and restrained to the chair without so much of a challenge, his head was still swimming with a mirage of different thoughts. It wasn’t until he met the hardened eyes of the interrogator that he realised he was meant to proceed.

The Apoids had already stripped Cash of his shirt, telling him they’d probably already been briefed on what was going to happen. He had to steady the tremble in his fingers as he worked, hooking his patient up until everything seemed to be working as it should.

Cash was staring at him again like last time.

For some reason, it was really puting him off. Perhaps it was because this was going to be his first time witnessing whether the rumours about Level Nine were true. That the constant, brutal torture made prisoners believe that death was a mercy.

He carefully checked over his notes. He used a sharp syringe and measured out a small dosage. Noah’s head felt incredibly light as he wiped down a puncture point and prodded for a vein, keeping his hand steady and breath even.

For just a second, he hesitated.

Cash’s voice was quiet next to him. “Don’t hesitate now, doc.”

Noah grit his teeth, and slowly injected the drug into his body. He ignored his piercing eyes as he straightened up, taking his spot beside the wall by Fionn. He noticed a slight movement as his masked gaze followed him, but of course, he was as silent as ever.

Watching the interrogation reminded him that nothing could have prepared him for the brutal violence and ruthlessness. Cash already reacted instantly to the drug, and Noah noted down every little thing he could see in his whirring, fuzzy brain. Dilated eyes. Sweating. Claminess. Shortess of breath. Papaltations. The interrogator violently bloodied up his face despite his vulnerable state, not holding back as he spat questions and derogatory language that even had Noah wincing.

It was a hard pill to swallow.

It settled unpleasantly in the bottom of his stomach, turning sour and uneasy.

The amount of times he wanted to step forward and put an end to it launched itself from his heart more times than he could count. No matter how much he kept his eyes on the machine or the notes clutched in his hands, he still couldn’t erase the noise of Cash’s painful torture, his teeth grinding together as he fought back against the agony.

It seemed to last forever, too, but Noah had completely zoned out. He remembered some of the words from the scientists from Level One; “toughen up now”. He realised he wasn’t prepared, nor ready for this.

Once the effects of the drug wore off, the interogator wiped off his bloody fists, cursing angrily under his breath. Cash’s hair was disheveled and messy, sticking to his clammy forehead. He was panting hard, rigid, tense limbs trembling under the restraints.

Fionn had to gently nudge his side to snap him out of his spinning thoughts.

Noah remembered how to breathe, very suddenly, as well as the rules that came crashing into him.

He set his clipboard down, and went to tend to Noah. He gently lifted his head back, shining a small torch into his eyes, watching as they barely shrank to accommodate the glaring light. He swallowed, shakily opening his mouth to speak.

“Can you look at my finger and follow it, please?” He asked softly under his breath, just for Cash to hear. He eventually did so, but kept scrunching his eyes in an attempt to see better. Probably dizzy. Noah noted all of that down.

He even found himself folding a small square piece of cloth, and dabbing away the sweat soaking Cash’s forehead. It was building up everywhere, down his neck, soaking over his bare torso, but Noah opted to keep his hands occupied with his damp hair instead.

“Are you okay?” He whispered before he could stop himself.

He knew protocal was delicate and he shouldn’t even be thinking about asking if a prisoner was okay, but he couldn’t help himself. Even with his tongue all twisted and tied, this was something surreal. Cash didn’t respond. How could Noah expect him to after that? He sucked in a sharp breath, diligently mopping up his sweat with shaking hands.

He had to pull himself together. Even though there was only the sound of Cash’s slurred, ragged breathing, it felt like everyone was watching him. He pressed his lips into a thin line.

“I’m going to take him the infirmary,” Noah decided, levelling the convinction in his voice. He turned to both the Apoids and the interrogator. “Can we please transfer him to a free wing?”

Like clockwork, the Apoids moved into action. Considering this was Noah’s expertise, if the scientist wanted to conduct in the infirmary, then they were allowed to. More Apoids flooded in, and Noah waited patiently as they rolled out a gurney, fastened with those same cuffs and leather straps. He remained planted where he was, suddenly hearing a quiet noise from Cash.

Noah spun around, his eyes wideneing slightly. Cash’s face was crinkled in pain, and the sweat had come back in force. His lips wobbled again, and Noah leaned forward, bracing a hand on his shoulder.

“Cash,” he whispered, and then promptly corrected himself. This was a prisoner. They weren’t people and they didn’t deserve names. His expression hardened. “Are you okay? Could you speak up and tell me what’s wrong?”

Another breathy wheeze, but Noah could sense he was trying to say something through the bruises and remains of the drug in his system. His heart twisted in guilt; it was hard to stomach. He leaned in closer, straining to make out those grumbled words. It was his job that his patient was in good condition, and that helped when he had feedback.

But apparently, feedback wasn’t what Cash had in mind at all.

Before he knew it, Fionn had surged forward, and the air was knocked out of Noah’s lungs when his arm violently shoved him away. Gloved fingers grasped awkwardly into his arm, digging into the flesh, and Noah winced as his watery eyes glanced up. Cash was straining against the restraints, his face twisted in anger and his teeth bared viciously, suddenly much more lucid than he seemed to be before.

Black Apoids converged on the scene like little bugs, and Fionn ushered Noah protectively away from him. When he realised he was gripping his arm tightly, he let go, black mask tilting in his direction. He looked as though he was going to say something, but then stiffened, and turned away.

Noah swallowed the dry lump in his throat. Guns were pointed directly in Cash’s direction, and he caught the glimpse of a needle heading for his neck. In a beat of adrenaline, he surged forward.

“Don’t,” he snapped, causing the Apoid to stop. “I don’t trust the effect a sedative will have on his health. Let him calm down; in his condition, he can’t put up a fight.”

He wasn’t quite sure why, but he was shocked that the Apoid listened to him so quickly. The needle, that had just been hovering dangerously by his patient’s exposed neck, disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Noah let out a sigh of relief, stepping back to clear the space so they could effectively transfer him over to the gunrney. Although Cash was tense and looked ready to bolt, he was no match for the Apoids. He was successfully restrained down to the gurney, blindfolded and gagged, despite Noah not being pleased with that, and swiftly wheeled down in the direction of the infirmary.

Noah let out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging. He gently rubbed the sore spot on his arm, cursing his ignorance and almost getting himself killed. Getting too close to a patient like that was stupid, and almost rule number one in the Facility. He was so stupid.

A voice caught him off guard. He hadn’t even noticed that the room had almost cleared out, Cash’s disappearance easing the thick fog of tension that had built up.

“Are you okay?” Fionn asked quietly, and Noah stepped away from him, his heart pounding. For some reason, it was all the way in his throat. This had shaken him to his very core.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, hurrying for the door. He tried to ignore the guards posted on the doors, or the fact that Fionn was shadowing him as he went. Except, it seemed with every footstep of his Apoid, his heart yearned to match it. One step, two step, one beat and another beat. He took a deep breath, and soon, Noah felt like he’d shaken off some of that crawling pressure.

Personnel in charge of the infirmary made him confirm Cash’s time of arrival and wing, before he was allowed to take care of his patient. He was strapped down securely, and against the stark white curtains and beds and furniture, he had the opposing blackness of Fionn and two other Apoids to keep him company. Cash remained relatively subdued for the most part, where Noah made sure his health would remain positive and monitered his vitals for any adverse effects. The next day, he could implement his research into improving the compound.

He rubbed his eyes wearily. He was doing this for a reason; he had to keep reminding himself of that. Every day he worked was another day for his sister.

Noah made sure Cash was checked in overnight, giving him plenty of time to recover, and was finally scheduled to go back to his room for rest. He considered keeping himself busy with some exercise, but he decided going to sleep early would do him some good. Before he stepped into the threshold of his plain room, his shadow spoke once again.

“Hey.”

Noah blinked, turning around with heavy eyes. It was easy to forget that his Apoid was behind him every step of the way. He squinted at him. Fionn was frozen for a moment, before his hand dipped into his pocket, and he tossed him something small. Noah scrambled to catch it.

“For your arm,” he spoke quietly, as if anyone could overhear him. He was stepping out of line doing this, Noah realised as he glanced at the small tube he’d given him. It was a soothing cream. “I’m sorry for grabbing you like that.”

Noah looked up. “You mean…for doing your job? It was my fault I got too close.”

Even though there was nothing but black behind that helemt, and Fionn held himself in a way that indicated no body language, he was sure he could sense the change of expression. The doctor bit the inside of his cheek, smiling gratefully up at him.

“But thanks,” he mumbled. “You know you’re not allowed to do that.”

Fionn didn’t move. “I know.”

“You’re full of surprises, Fionn,” Noah laughed breathlessly, and he gripped the cream firmly in his hand. “I’m going to get some sleep I think.”

The Apoid tilted his head. “You have two hours to spare.”

“I know,” he sighed. He was exhausted, and he needed to sleep on what had happened today. His mind was all over the place. “I need the extra hours. Sorry for making you wait outside.”

He assumed that when the lights went down and it was his schedule kicked in, Fionn would almost rest and sleep the hours away until he was up early and ready outside Noah’s door for when he had to work in the lab. Noah only assumed that he’d be making Fionn wait outside for a couple hours before that happened.

“It’s my job,” Fionn responded coolly, and motioned for himself to leave. Noah considered wishing him a good night, but that would more than likely be inappropiate. Before he could think about it, the door slid shut, and he was left in silence. A loud, heavy sigh fell from him, and after peeling off his clothes and changing into comfortable ones, he collasped on his bed, and fell fast asleep.

That didn’t last long, however.

Noah was tortured by horrific nightmares. All he could hear were bone chilling screams, feel coppery blood dripping off his hands, and cold dead bodies by his feet. He had tried to race over them, staggering over bloated corpses, all while Cash’s writhing and injured face haunted his mind. He’d done that; subjected him to that awful torture.

Before he knew it, he was scrambling out of his bed, slick with sweat and a scream dying on his lips. His fingers dug into his throat, desperately trying to suck in some air, and blearily looked around his room. The lights were still on. Did that mean—?

He stumbled to the door. When he opened it and poked his head round, Fionn was still standing there. It mustn’t have been that long, and Noah ran a shaking hand through his hair, slick with clammy sweat.

“Fionn?” He croaked, and the mention of his name made the soldier’s head turn, alert. He blocked the doorway, keeping his voice a low rumble as he spoke.

“Don’t adress me by name like that,” he warned, his voice going deadly, but still with an ounce of concern upon seeing Noah’s disheveled figure. “What’s wrong?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. He still felt jittery and uncomfortable, like he’d look over his shoulder and see mangled, putrid corpses gurgling his name. He ran another hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I just had a nightmare,” he admitted. Fionn didn’t respond, because why would he? He and Noah were both trained vigorously to follow protocol, those being that they weren’t allowed to know any more about each other than what it said on a scientist’s name tag. Yet, this had all been a spiralling shit show, and he couldn’t handle it. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

The Apoid didn’t move. Didn’t even tilt his head. “There’s nothing I can do.”

Noah stared at him pleadingly. “Fionn,” he choked. “I won’t be able to sleep. I just can’t. Can’t you just…”

Fionn was a stranger. But he was less of a stranger than anybody else in this place.

“I cannot enter your room unless it’s an emergency,” he murmurs quietly, and Noah’s head throbs. He lets out an aggravated huff.

“That’s so stupid,” he hisses, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “This is an emergency. Please, I just need ten minutes.”

Silence. It was like staring at a statue, and Noah gave another huff, pressing his palms against the back of his eyes until he saw stars. He grumbled under his breath, trying to ignore the stinging tears of frustration at his eyes.

Noah would just have to make an emergency then.

He looked around the room, and took a few steps back, clearing his throat. It forced him to relax an inch, taking his mind off all those horrifying images beneath his eyelids whenever he blinked. He picked a good spot, and then stared at Fionn blankly.

“Oh, no,” he flatly exclaimed, turning in a circle slowly on the spot. “I feel dizzy, Fionn. I think I’m going to fight.”

Cold silence greeted him, but he was committed. He made a convincing moaning noise, holding his head woozily. Noah pretended to sway, elegantly placed himself on the ground, and then slumped into an unceromonius position. He even heard a sigh coming from Fionn, and it almost made him laugh.

“That’s not going to work, Noah,” Fionn spoke, and it was the first time he had uttered his name since they’d met. Still, Noah didn’t move. Silence sprouted in the air for eight seconds (he was counting) before Fionn spoke again, this time, his voice breaching with annoyance, and no modulation could hide that.

“Noah,” the Apoid sighed, and he forced himself not to laugh. “Noah?”

Then there was another sharp sigh, and footsteps started towards him. When the door slid shut behind Fionn, Noah opened his eyes, and finally sat up, smiling up at him. Gloved hands settled on his shoulders and helped him up to his feet, and Noah realised that his heart wasn’t racing so much anymore. The adrenaline had simmered down, and didn’t feel so hot around the collar. He glanced up at the Apoid, surpressing the smile.

“Both of our contracts are going to be terminated,” Fionn murmured in warning, guiding Noah to the bed. He helped him take a seat, and moved to grab a bottle of water. He took it with a sly smile, chuckling breathlessly.

“You know I didn’t actually feel dizzy,” he joked, but gratefully took a swig, the cold water seeping into his bones and cooling him down. He released a quiet breath, wiping his forehead carefully and relaxing into the mattress below him. His smile faded, only for a moment, and Fionn’s head tilted as he watched him.

“How are you feeling?” He asks quietly. Noah looks up at him through his eyelashes.

“A little better,” he admits, keeping the bottle close. It feels cool against the skin of his palm. “I knew that Level Nine had a reputation, but…”

He trails off, the words dying uselessly on his tongue.

“I thought that it wouldn’t be this bad,” he whispers softly, staring at his lap as his lips curved into a frown. “I thought that the reason why I was here would make it so much easier, but - it doesn’t. I don’t have the guts for this place.”

Fionn is quiet, just listening to Noah’s words. When he wipes his eyes, he notices that he’s stepped closer, and he takes a seat next to him on the bed, his rifle slung over his back. Noah stares at his own reflection in the blackness of the visor.

“I’m doing this for my Ma and Pa,” he tells him, his voice ever so quiet, like they were telling each other confidential secrets. “I’ve been here for almost three years now.”

Noah looks at him hopefully. “And does it get easier?”

His head shakes from side to side. “No,” he answers grimly. “It gets much harder.”

Noah presses his lips into a thin line, and the bottle crinkles slightly as he grasps it tighter. Their contracts lasted ten years. Ten years without seeing his family, without knowing what sort of recovery his sister was making. It would be torture, and it made him want to cry. This had all been for her, and he couldn’t just leave. He’d told himself that he would endure it all, just for her, no matter how hard it got. He wondered if Fionn told himself the same thing.

“Would you like to hear a poem?” The Apoid suddenly spoke up. Noah’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, but regardless, he nodded his head. He could use a distraction - anything to help put his mind at rest. “It’s my favourite. By William Butler Yeats, called The Second Coming.”

As Fionn gently recited the lines, Noah discovered the answer to his earlier question. That yes - Fionn was Irish. The hint of an accent slipped through as he spoke, like it was completely natural for him. Noah closed his eyes, letting the soothing words wash over him.

It made him see Fionn as more of a human than another faceless, robotic Apoid, and it was a very comforting thought.

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allbeforee · 7 months

Text

Words from a Palestinian (Eman Basher)

Translation of this tweet.

ID and plain text broken up version below

Image ID:

Let me tell a few things clearly and in Arabic: Regardless of October 7th incidents, Israel has constantly been bombing Gaza. I work at a school affiliated with the UNRWA near the borders. We're always asked to wear loose clothing to help us escape in the event of bombing. More than half of the female students in the class, not only have martyr relatives, they also witnessed the death of martyrs before their eyes.

Meaning, more than three-quarters of the students in my school have psychological trauma. More than once we fled from school under random bombing. More than once we hide in our classes and sit on the floor (like the CNN broadcaster), but this time I have 40 students in the class and I am charged with protecting them, and I cannot even protect myself.

Many times we would go back to school when we were not in a state of war, and we would find a girl who had been martyred, or in the hospital seriously injured because a soldier on the border had targeted her while she was in her home.

The residents of Beit Hanoun, all of their agricultural land, which is their livelihood, is on the border. Go and ask them about the tragedies they experience day in and day out. How many times have their crops been burned? How many times have they been targeted while they were farming safely?

Before October 7th, Israel constantly assaulted women on their way to prayers in Jerusalem, preventing them from reaching Al-Aqsa Mosque for days. Celebrations are held in vain and repeatedly, and they chant racist slogans to provoke the Palestinian people of Jerusalem.

Gazans need a permit to enter the West Bank, which is often denied (for education, work, treatment, all the same, forbidden).

On a personal note, I am 32 years old and have never visited Jerusalem or the rest of the cities of Palestine. Patients with serious medical conditions that require a transfer to the West Bank die while waiting for the approval of the transfer.

Checkpoints are widespread in the West Bank on every street, to the point that you take 2 hours to reach a place that you can normally reach in 15 mins because you have to stop and wait many times. Israel arrests men, women, and children, imprisons them without charge or trial, abuses them, and tortures them in prisons without supervision. If it releases them in deals - something that happens once in a lifetime - it exiles them to another city far from their family, that if it doesn't take them captive again!

Settlers occupy houses in the West Bank, steal them and live in them (just like that, imagine!), and the Palestinian who yesterday was still sleeping in this house is expelled under the cover of the occupation government. Even the Palestinians inside Israel, who are supposed to have Israeli identity cards, were not spared. They are treated as second-class citizens and are considered a minority.

They are prevented from many jobs. Armed Israeli gangs constantly assault them in the streets and in their homes. They are killed without any accountability. Rather, their killing is encouraged because they are causing a crisis for the occupying state.

In Gaza, if you order something online, it will take a year and we will be answered verbatim "it's up to the mood of the Israeli soldier working at the crossing". Three-quarters of the items Israel considers to be dual-use and refuses to enter the Gaza Strip, the most important of which is reinforced iron, which can be used in building shelters to protect civilians in wars.

I once ordered diving goggles, and they were returned because they were classified as dual use. Everything entering the sector is subject to inspection. Israel rations the Gaza Strip's food supplies so that the food that enters is not enough for a single person. It updates its data after each war to account for the sector's decrease in population due to martyrdom (articles are widespread and numerous, for example how it rations the entry of chocolate into the sector according to its own specific calculation).

Fishermen are hunted at sea and they're falsely accused of getting close to the border. The fishing area keeps shrinking that they now have a tiny area from which they can make a living.

This is just the tip of the iceberg of the occupation's practices against the Palestinians in general and Gaza in particular.

Israel did not need October 7th except to inflame people's feelings, remind them of the Jewish tragedy, and wipe out the Gaza Strip, with the world giving it the green light. If October 7th hadn't happened, Israel would have bombed the Gaza Strip and said that a Gazan dog walked near the border and denied the Holocaust.

Resistance, tunnels, return marches, and demonstrations are all forms of oppressed people trying to defend themselves. Whether they succeed or fail, they are all attempts to say that we died with dignity, and at least we tried not to let them kill us while they were happy. As Naseer said, "If it were not for the resistance, your mother would've been washing an Israeli soldier's feet in a basin right now."

The occupation is not the enemy of the resistance itself. The occupation is my enemy, the enemy of my students, the enemy of my children, the enemy of my family members, and the enemy of my people. If God allowed us to live, I would like to let my children and students grow up cursing Israel. The battle is not over yet. This is not a post of justification, I don't have to justify to the world why we resist.

This is for some of my people who seem to believe the occupation's repeated narrative that its goal is to eliminate Hamas. And to remind them that in the past there was no Hamas, but your grandfather and grandmother were still killed. My son and your son are not Hamas, but my son and your son are still being killed.

End ID

#free gaza #free palestine #gaza #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #palestine

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edmundhoward · 2 months

Text

i’m normally happy to let that blog flop in irrelevancy by itself, but there's a lot to unpack (not posting controversial bait is selective, ig) and i guess in dire times of low engagement, riding jane’s dick is a tried and true...

‘jane seymour didn't seem to have any female friends’

how would we know this? we have no evidence of private correspondence or of her life, overall, before 1536. she died the following year. that’s a very small window for evidence of a personal nature. we do know that she kept one of her female relatives close to her while she waited for news of anne’s execution (i presume it was anne stanhope), and she gave gifts to women in her household once queen.

also i think this argument that historical women have to have female friends as some sort of litmus test for innate moral fibre slightly... idk, i do not care if a historical figure fits the tiktok definitions of a ‘girl's girl’, like some sort of historical bechdel test. they’re aristocrats, they absolutely would not be my friend, so i do not care whether or not they had a sufficient amount of female friends within a circle of inbred aristrocrats.

‘wouldn't help her own widowed sister’

we don’t know why elizabeth didn’t reach out to jane for help, but it sure is interesting how the primary arguments made to explain this (that jane was not judged to hold enough influence, that thomas cromwell ‘got there first’, that elizabeth’s situation was not as dire as is assumed, there being a legitimate ideological or personal separation between the two women) are thrown out to intentionally cast jane as some sort of neglectful sister.

‘didn’t say shit about six innocent people getting murdered so she could be queen’

what exactly was she supposed to do? we have no sense of really anyone challenging the proceedings against anne. the only thing i can really think of is thomas cranmer... who still acted in compliance with those proceedings, regardless. jane had exponentially less power in this (extremely unusual) situation, i am not sure what exactly people want her to do, or what was in her capacity.

‘sat th[ere] waiting for news of anne dying to immediately take her place’

given how little we know about jane as person we really cannot presume her feelings or agency in that moment. the speed at which henry/cromwell moved against anne was unprecedented and it’s unrealistic that jane was actively responsible, or that she possessed the considerable power/influence required to move to execute an anointed queen. if she was willing at this point, we simply cannot know — we know she did not leave court or firmly reject henry, but as we don’t know why, we really cannot vilify her to any kind of major extent. so she stayed in london, living in opulence, but the alternative was rejecting a king who had just murdered his wife for her…

‘did nothing for the six’s children, including a two year old girl whose whole life just got destroyed’

except for when she provided clothes, books and jewels for elizabeth, and took mary norris into her household, and gifted her jewels...

beyond that, there was simply very little jane could realistically do for/with elizabeth. she was very young and there wasn’t a functional role for her or relationship they could have had.

‘and she’s remembered as the kind one.’

the bitch ass anon posting this:

#jane seymour

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hell-drabbles · 25 days

Note

Hi!,I have some suggestions for the appearance of conCompanion AU!, let's start with the horns, I think goat horns would be perfect for them (due to their impulsiveness and how this relates to the animal) but with a more aggressive design

(jewelry is a gift it is from gaming cofcoflucifercofcof)

Their angelic ring appears from time to time weakly for a few seconds, and their wings (although it is not the most appropriate way to call the mounds of poorly formed flesh that they have on their back) also disappear but more slowly. and somewhat painful to the point that they are now medium-sized mounds that you can hide with loose clothing,speaking of the most important ones, i am very sure that Companion they have quite a few scars, the face and back being the biggest ones (also being the most sensitive and painful), having to ask for help with everyday things (showering, eating, dressing, etc.),and move with a wheelchair, being pushed by gaming and Lucifer

They demonic tail would also match his horns, with retractable affiliated scales.

possibly with a deformed face thanks to burns from they fall or from the impact upon reaching the ground

Some cosmic being is really determined to keep the Companion alive. Meanwhile, Ra-on over here is relatively unscathed. I say this like I'm not the being that is putting the Companion through the wringer just for the sake of my entertainment. Hehehe. I swear I love them. I truly do.

But that is nice, strong and heavy horns that constantly give the Companion cramps because of how unused to the weight. Large, twisted things that look like a pain to maintain.

The third image actually reminded me of a character from Arknights who's horns I really like. The Witch Kiiiiing's.

They're a little too thin for the Companion but man, I just think those horns are cool.

I like to imagine that the companion doesn't have normal colored hands anymore. They got claws and scales covering them. Gives a very odd feeling, like something is covering them and they can't take it off no matter what. What makes it extra annoying is that those scales shed and that process will probably be itchy. And initially painful because the Companion was still in a state of recovering so their nerves are not having it.

Basically, whatever demon feature you add to the Companion, they'll find a way to dislike it because this is not how they're supposed to look. Also I do want them to keep a broken halo around, just floating pieces of glass radiance that float and swirl.

But hohohoho, thank you, the ideas are getting my head to swirl around a bit.

#admin #embittered companion au

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shokolandish · 2 months

Text

was thinking about comphet niffty

accidentally wrote this

this uses my vision/redesigns/rewrites of the characters, my niffty is not exactly the same as she is in the show, she's still pretty insane and fucked up most of the time, but sometimes she can say things that make sense and actually has empathy (sometimes)

idk i thought it would help her feel more adult-like

i love how insane og niffty is but her being so mindless doesn't really help her child-like-ness and i don't really like when shows/their fandom infantilises adult characters

also i would really love if niffty and husk interacted more so uh

yeah

idk if husk is ooc here but i tried my best to keep him relatively canon-like

enjoy(?)

[establishing shot of the bar]

[husk sits at the bar table all alone, wiping a glass]

[shot changes to the door, niffty peeks through]

[shot goes back to husk but the shot is wider, so we can see a tall chair being dragged to the stall, then we see niffty flying up and sitting down on it]

[buzz puts all four of buzz' hands on the table and blinks with all buzz' eyes one after the other]

[she's nervous, she taps on the counter with all her hands one after the other]

[husk, without any real reaction on his face, looks up at her for a few seconds, then looks back down and goes back to wiping the glass]

[the room becomes silent for a moment, the only things you can hear are the wiping of the glass and niffty's tapping]

HUSK (not looking up at xer)

You want a drink or are you here for something else?

[niffty looks at him, startled a bit]

[xe then looks away awkwardly, tapping even faster]

NIFFTY

I... Actually wanted to talk. [pause] But some liquor would be nice.

[they stay silent for a bit, husk puts away the clean glass, then gets the bottle and pours it in a glass so it's half full]

[he moves it over to xer]

[he takes a new glass and starts wiping it too]

[niffty takes it and sips a bit]

[she cringes a bit from the taste but still gulps]

[she then slams the glass on the table, but it doesn't spill because it's not that full]

NIFFTY

Oh yeah, that's the stuff.

[pause, husk looks at her with a neutral expression, stopping wiping the glass a moment]

HUSK

...so, you still want to talk or..?

NIFFTY

Oh! Right. [pause, she starts stimming by moving the glass a bit from side to side] I... Might have. Some. Weird feelings right now.

[husk doesn't reply, just looks at her with am eyebrow raised]

NIFFTY

And i know they're... Kinda wrong, but... [pause, you can only hear the glass moving across the table and back] They... They feel so right somehow. It's... So weird.

[pause, niffty stop moving the glass for a moment]

HUSK (starts wiping the glass again}

Well, if they feel right, then what's the problem?

[pause, niffty looks away and starts moving the glass again]

NIFFTY

I mean... It's not something... I'm supposed to be feeling.

HUSK (not stopping wiping the glass)

Why's that?

[pause, niffty stops moving the glass]

NIFFTY

I kinda... Like someone.

HUSK (putting away the old glass and taking a new one)

Isn't that normal?

NIFFTY

No, I mean, like... I like-like them.

[pause, you can only hear husk wiping the glass]

HUSK

[not looking up at her] That's also normal I'm pretty sure.

NIFFTY

[sigh] I don't think you really understand me.

HUSK

[shrugs] Maybe you should explain it again.

[pause, niffty moves away the glass and starts tapping on the table again]

[she looks around, then looks down]

NIFFTY

It's. Not exactly a boy.

HUSK

Okay.

NIFFTY

And I'm... Also not a boy.

[she stops tapping]

HUSK

Okay.

NIFFTY

Husk, that's... Not really. A thing that. Should happen.

[husk looks at her with a raised eyebrow, then looks back down]

HUSK

Why?

NIFFTY

Because I'm supposed to... Like boys.

[she starts tapping again]

HUSK

Says who?

NIFFTY (moving her hands around/gesturing actively while speaking)

Like... Everyone? I dunno, I just... I always thought I liked boys. But now that i like... A girl... It feels very different.

HUSK (putting away the glass and the cloth he was wiping it with)

How so?

NIFFTY (calmed down a bit, looks more upset)

I thought what I felt towards boys was what... Liking someone felt like, but... Now that I actually like someone... I don't know if I... Ever liked anyone else in that way. I don't know if i have ever felt this way about any boy before.

[husk doesn't reply]

NIFFTY (stops moving around)

Husk... Can I like girls if I'm not a boy?

[pause]

HUSK

Sure.

NIFFTY (surprised, flapped xer wings several times and flew a couple cm up, then landed down as xe spoke)

Really???

HUSK

Yeah. Why not.

NIFFTY (not moving around)

Have... [pause] Other people ever felt that?

HUSK

Almost everyone in this hotel have, I'm pretty sure.

NIFFTY (even more surprised)

Really? (flew a bit higher, landed back on the seat and winced a bit, but wasn't hurt) Even you???

HUSK

I guess. I mean, I don't really care bout gender stuff when liking someone, so probably. Tho haven't really liked someone in a long time, but you know. In theory.

[pause]

NIFFTY (sitting still)

Huh... I never really knew that was a thing.

HUSK

Have you seen the people that live here? I thought it was pretty obvious.

NIFFTY (sitting still)

I guess I didn't realize that was even a possibility...

HUSK

(shrugs) Eh, you learn something new every day I guess.

[pause]

NIFFTY (taps on the table a bit)

You know, now I'm not sure I ever liked boys. Is that... Okay?

HUSK

Yeah, why not.

NIFFTY (stops tapping)

Huh.

[niffty smiles and looks away]

[pause]

[niffty looks at husk, who already started wiping the next glass]

NIFFTY (smiles)

Thanks, Husk.

[xe flies down and quickly runs away, leaving xer unfinished glass of liquor on the table]

[husk looks over at it and sighs]

[he takes the glass, downs it in one gulp, winces a bit and moves away the glass from himself on the table]

[shot changes to the hotel]

[shot changes to the hill hotel is on, you can still see the hotel]

[fade to black]

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punsmaster69 · 3 months

Text

8/MAR/20XX

sorry, dog ate yesterday's page.

real shame.

there was truly nothing i could do.

anyway, as for today.

sitting hunched over the table is papyrus and frisk who are trying to work out the problems on a math assignment tori gave them.

normally me or alphys would be the ones to help guide 'em, but papyrus insisted with full confidence that he could help.

other than a pause when tori made them lunch, they haven't given it up for the hour or so they've been going so far.

me and tori are just hanging out on the couch while sewing a few holes in our respective younger relative's clothing articles.

for papyrus, it's a few holes in some gloves, a pair of jeans, and a shirt that got just barely caught on the wrong end of a spear while sparring.

similar stuff with frisk, minus the gloves and sparring parts.

i'll keep you updated on their progress. promise not to let 'em suffer for too long.

——

"...HUMAN."

elbows up on the table, fingers crossed, face serious - papyrus closed his eyes and sighed.

reaching into his scarf, he removed a calculator. you would swear it glinted in the light. frisk gasped.

"NOW, I KNOW HOW THIS MAY SEEM..."

"BUT TAKE THIS NOT AS DEFEAT - BUT AS A TRUCE!!"

"ER-"

he froze and quickly swiveled in his seat to look at toriel on the couch.

"MS. TORIEL, IS FRISK ALLOWED TO USE A CALCULATOR?"

"I do not see any reason they couldn't, as long as it is only to assist."

"no cheatin'."

rotating immediately to face frisk again, he taps the calculator onto the table and slides it in the middle of them.

frisk looks between the calculator and their page with a torn expression.

"CERTAINLY, IT WILL BE BETTER THIS WAY."

".......Man..."

"WE'VE BEEN AT THIS FOR PLENTY LONG!"

"Yeah, but..."

"IT IS NOT A LOSS TO ACCEPT ASSISTANCE!"

".....You know what? Yeah. Who cares how long we spent doing it manually."

quickly snatching the calculator up with a determined smile, frisk shouted.

"Let's get this over with already!"

you wouldn't be shocked to discover that it resulted in everything going much faster for them.

the second the paper left frisk's hand into toriel's, papyrus dragged them to the front door.

"NO MORE INSIDE-NESS! STRETCHING, PLAYING, AND GETTING SUN! THAT'S WHAT YOU NEED NOW!!"

"Return before dinnertime-"

"PER USUAL!"

"If you are going across the street, remember to-"

"LOOK BOTH DIRECTIONS, AND USE WALKWAYS!!"

rocking back and forth on his heels slightly, papyrus seemed anxious to get outside.

frisk finished tying the laces on their boots and jumped up - instantly grabbing onto papyrus' arm. he raised it so that they could dangle from his humerus.

"It is not cold, so I do not suppose you need a coat..."

"I trust that you two will keep safe."

"LEAVE IT TO ME!! YOU CAN'T SPELL 'SAFE' WITHOUT AT LEAST TWO LETTERS FROM MY NAME!"

"seeya, bro. seeya, kiddo."

"Byyyyeee!!"

tori waved.

accepting this as confirmation, it took mere seconds before papyrus had swung frisk up so he could carry them easier and darted excitedly out the door.

——

stopping just before my knuckles hit the doorframe, i decided against knocking upon peeking into the door - just barely cracked open.

my brother laid face-to-floor, hands still loosely holding up a book. his legs hung slightly over a mound of pillows. like a blanket, frisk had draped themselves (and an actual blanket) perpendicularly over paps; also on their face.

unbothered by my bro's slight snoring, both of them were completely out.

a dim light illuminated flowey's face as he clicked away at a game.

"('s pretty late, y'know.)"

"(Yeah, yeah. Get your brother and leave already.)"

i looked again at the two peaceful sleepers on the floor.

"(...nah. don't wanna disturb that.)"

"(got back from asgore's just to immediately hop on there, huh?)"

"(Your point?)"

"(you should be hopping to bed instead.)"

"(No.)"

"(just sayin', you'll regret it in the morning.)"

"(....)"

finally peeling his eyes away from the console, flowey shot me an irritated look.

"(Can you STOP saying, and leave instead?)"

"(ok.)"

with a shrug.

his mistake, not mine.

"(don't bother them with your light too much.)"

"('night, kid.)"

"(It sure is.)"

flickering a smug look across his face before it immediately gets wiped off by something in the game.

flowey, annoyed, shuts off the game and throws it onto the currently unused bed.

i step away from the door and pause to glance at toriel's door. the light remains on.

"...knock, knock."

"You may open it, if you so choose."

still in there finishing up sewing some spots on a sweater is toriel, now on her bed.

to muffle the sound, i step in and shut the door behind me.

"you're gonna wear your fingers out, doin' this all day."

"Certainly, I have done worse before. I will be alright."

"Are you going home now?"

"papyrus is dead asleep in there, and going home without him doesn't feel right."

"mind if i hijack your couch again?"

shifting over to make a little space beside her, toriel patted the bed.

"...you sure?"

"Mhm."

"It will be nice to have some company."

keeping my voice down still, i toss myself onto the cushion beside her.

"someone to pull an all-nighter with you?"

"Ohh, it will not take me THAT long. I am nearly done."

"good, 'cuz i'm failing already."

adjusting my head against her pillow and crossing my arms underneath it.

"Ah... goodnight, sleepyhead."

she turned over the sweater in her hands and set it aside, returning her sewing equipment to its tin - currently on her nightstand. tucking it into a drawer, she clicks off the lamp. toriel sinks down in the bed to be at face level with me.

i sit up for a moment. i lean forward, give her a skeleton's version of a kiss on the cheek.

"g'night."

she seems surprised but smiles, sits up as well, and gently places a hand on my cheek and kisses my forehead.

placing my hand over hers, i flop back onto the pillow.

removing her hand from mine for just a minute to pull the sheets up, toriel returns her hand where it was as she lays back down with me.

"...Now close your eyes, silly. They are quite light-up in the dark."

"ok."

#undertale #journal #sans #frisk and sans #toriel #frisk #papyrus and frisk #papyrus #sans and papyrus #flowey #sans and flowey #soriel #sans x toriel

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soopersara · 5 months

Text

I brought this up on Discord a while ago, but I finally realized why the conflict between Katara and Toph in "The Chase" bothers me so much (aside from the fact that I'm an oldest daughter too, and as as such, I'm physically incapable of seeing Katara as the bad guy for asking Toph to contribute):

Toph's motivations in the episode are very clearly stated. She wants to carry her own weight because she's sick of being perceived as weak. Which is great! I honestly love that as a motivation. It fits her character extremely well.

But then why, if Toph wants to prove herself and show the world that she isn't helpless, is her solution to that problem... not helping anyone? I mean, Katara (very politely, at first) implies that she wants Toph to help out around camp. Katara very obviously doesn't see Toph as helpless, otherwise why would she be asking Toph to contribute to the chores? And yet Toph lashes out because, according to her later conversation with Iroh, "please help us with chores" came across to her as "you're incapable of doing things on your own."

Okay. Sorry, but I'm not buying that chain of logic. If I'm supposed to believe Toph as the smart, insightful character that she is in most of the other episodes, I'm gonna need her motives and actions to match up a little better here.

So working with the pieces the show gives us, I can see two relatively simple fixes:

Keep the inciting incident for the conflict between Toph and Katara (or the Gaang as a whole - why does Katara have to be singled out?), but change Toph's motivations to match.

Keep Toph's motivations the same, but change the inciting incident for the conflict.

The first option is... less appealing, IMO, because while I can absolutely see a reason why Toph might refuse to contribute to the group, the most obvious reason for it is just... Toph being a spoiled rich girl. Which isn't an unrealistic trait for a girl with her background (honestly, that's 100% the way I read her in "The Chase" to begin with), but a) "spoiled brat" isn't an appealing personality trait, and the writers definitely wanted Toph to be appealing character, and b) I'm not sure that that's the type of conflict that could plausibility be wrapped up in a single 23-ish minute episode. Which isn't to say that it's impossible, but it's definitely outside of what I could personally pull off as a writer. If the conflicts introduced in "The Chase" had been allowed to play a more lasting part in the story, though, by all means! It could be very interesting to lean into the realistic but less-appealing personality traits that Toph might have picked up from her privileged childhood as long as the story was given the time and space it needed.

The second option is probably the way I would go for an easy-ish fix. Toph's parents treated her like she was made of glass, so it makes sense that she would have issues with others doing things for her after she leaves home. So maybe instead of getting angry when Katara asks for help, Toph settles in to eat her own dinner, but the others cook enough food for four and expect her to eat with them. Maybe Toph hasn't made her earth tent yet, and the others use a spare tarp to set up a makeshift tent for her. Maybe Toph comes back to camp after an earthbending lesson to find half of her clothes missing because it's laundry day, and the others didn't think to mention it to her before gathering up ALL the dirty clothes. Whatever the specifics may be, the Gaang is doing their normal chores around camp, and the fact that they're helping Toph without asking first gets on her nerves. She gets shouty about it, the Gaang doesn't really get what the issue is at first, she storms off, meets Iroh, has the canon chat about accepting help, returns to the group, talks things over with them, and all is resolved.

With this option, there's obviously a line to walk with how much help the Gaang gives Toph vs how much help she gives them—the reconciliation afterward wouldn't work out very well if the Gaang came off as ableist, but realistically, I don't think that's a difficult line to walk. And bonus points for this scenario, because while the original plot (unfairly) singles Katara out as the uptight nag of the group for uh... wanting to make sure they got shit done without doing EVERYTHING herself, this scenario would allow her to... y'know. Be the one who wants to get shit done around camp without the story painting her as unreasonable for it.

Obviously, these aren't the only ways I can imagine "The Chase" being improved, but introducing much more complexity would probably involve changing the WHOLE episode, and I don't have the time or the brainpower to deal with that idea right now 😂 I've just always been annoyed by how hard "The Chase" tries to pit Katara and Toph against each other. I know they would realistically butt heads about certain things because they're two very different people with two very different personalities, but THAT SHOULDN'T MEAN THAT KATARA HAS TO BE PAINTED AS A NAG WHILE TOPH GETS AWAY WITH LAZY WRITING BECAUSE "LOL, RESPONSIBILITY IS LAME."

#atla critical #The Chase #katara #toph #characters can fight without the narrative picking sides

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year

Text

Lestrade x reader - by your side

- Lestrade x Reader - Reader was Anderson's wife but finds out about him and Donavon and Lestrade comforts her - @mxacegrey 💜

Again he was late, again he didn’t even bother to text you or anything so as you looked at dinner you had made for the pair of you, you just sighed.

Putting the food in the oven, you blew out the candles and picked up your phone, trying to dial his number.

“Come on…” you mumbled.

Again, it went to voicemail and you sighed, deciding if you weren’t going to be able to actually have a conversation with your husband you had no choice.

You needed to talk to him, so you grabbed your keys and made your way to the only person you knew would be able to help you.

Knocking on the door, you anxiously fiddled with the hem of your jumper as you waited.

“Can I help you dear?”

“Is Sherlock Holmes in?”

“Of course, friend of his?” She smiled.

You nodded and smiled, thanking her for letting you in and you rushed up to the flat and through the open door.

“Sherlock? John?”

“(Y/N), what brings you by?” John smiled.

He offered you a seat and you walked over, sitting in front of him.

“She’s here to ask my to find her husband.”

Sherlock came out of his room and walked over, dropping an envelope in front of you on the table and sat in his chair.

You nodded your head and he pointed to the envelope he gave you.

“I knew you’d come here eventually. I don’t like Anderson, but i tolerate you, it’s free of charge. Take it, don’t, I don’t care.”

You looked at it again.

“What’s.. what’s in it?”

“You already know what’s in it (Y/N), I’m sorry.”

You nodded and took it, leaving the flat, wanting to open it privately you went and sat in your car, turning it over and over in your hands.

You had a feeling you knew what was in this, you really didn’t want it to be true, but you had been suspecting this for a while now.

Sighing, you slowed opened it and pulled out some photo and that confirmed everything you thought you knew.

Photos of your husband, Philip Anderson having dinner with his coworker, Donovan. Them hugging, entertaining your house, them kissing and a few more you didn’t want to see.

You quickly put them on the passenger seat at stared out at the road.

You didn’t know what to do, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to say or think or how to act.

You just felt numb.

Starting your car, you seemed to be acting on impulse as you drove straight back to the house and let yourself in.

You couldn’t think it as home knowing full well what had gone in inside these walls, in your own home, your own bed.

Walking up the stairs you grabbed all the suitcases you could find and began to pack everything, hands shaking making the clothes fall and your eyes started to brim with tears.

You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t do this.

You pushed the suitcase aside and just stuffed some clothes into a normal bag and quickly grabbed your charger and left the house again.

Your phone was ringing and you looked at the caller ID.

Philip Anderson. The bastard.

You ignored it and drove to the nearest, relatively cheap hotel you could find and walked in, bag on your shoulder.

“Can I help you?” The woman smiled.

“Do you.. do you have any rooms..?” You asked softly.

“Of course love, how long do you need it?”

You looked up at her and shook your head a little, trying to fight your tears.

“I.. I don’t.. I don’t know…”

She frowned and stood up.

“Are you alright?”

“I.. I just need somewhere to stay…”

She quickly nodded her head and typed quickly on her computer.

“It’s not booked for a few weeks, will that be okay?”

You nodded your head and handed her your bank card so you could pay for the first week, not sure how long you would be staying.

At least with a week paid off you had somewhere to go back to and she gave you the key and you walked over, ignoring the ringing of your phone.

You got into the room and set the bag down, simply just sitting on the bed as you looked at the wall.

Your phone rang again and you pulled it from your pocket, ready to rip into your husband but you realised it wasn’t him.

You didn’t have a chance to answer, the call stopped.

When you thought it was Philip calling you it wasn’t, he called you twice and simply just texted you he was on his way home.

All the other missed calls were from his boss, your friend.

The phone started to ring again, and you muted it, not wanted to talk to anyone.

It didn’t even get halfway through when it ended and your screen flashed with a new messaged.

Lestrade: where are you?

A new messages appeared.

Sherlock: I have a room available should you want it.

You decided to text Sherlock back first, sending him a simple thank you text and clicked on Lestrade’s contact.

He was typing, so you decided to just wait before replying.

Lestrade: Anderson said there were clothes all over and suitcases on the floor. Where are you? Are you okay? Please reply.

Philip was spamming you with texts and calls, and you just muted him, not wanting to block him yet.

You went back to your previous conversation and debated on what to say, but instead all you did was send Lestrade a picture of one of the photos Sherlock had given you.

You told him you were fine, you just wanted to be by yourself and that you had a place to stay.

With that, you turned your phone off and finally let everything out, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed softly into your hands.

Five years.

That’s how long you had been married, five years.

God knows how long this affair between your husband and Donovan had been going on for.

You never thought you’d see your marriage crash and burn.

Your childhood sweetheart, you were supposed to do everything together but apparently he didn’t care about that.

You laid down, arm over your eyes as you tried to fight the tears but it just wouldn’t work, you just cried. You wanted to scream, shout, hit something but all you could do was cry.

You didn’t know how long you had been like that, but it was the hotel door opening and closing again that made you shoot up.

“Hey, hey it’s just me, okay? It’s Lestrade.”

You took a shaky breath and wiped your tears with the backs of your hands.

“Hey it’s okay, come here.” He said softly.

You didn’t know how he found you, or how he managed to figure out what room you were in and get in, but when you felt him sit next to you, you threw yourself at him.

Wrapping your arms around him you cried into his shoulder, letting him hold your tightly.

Lestrade let you cry, telling you to get it all out and that it was going to be okay and that he was going to be there for you.

He was furious, yes.

But he knew exactly how much it hurt, he knew how much having someone there to wipe away your tears and help you pick up the pieces helped.

After all you did it for him.

He never thought he was going to have to do this for you, but here he was, you a bawling mess in his arms.

“I.. I don’t know what to do.. I. I have.. I’ve got nothing left…” you sobbed.

Lestrade quickly pulled away, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“That’s not true, okay? It’s not true. You’ve got Sherlock and John, okay? You’ve got an amazing job, your dream job in fact! Anderson is a bastard, yes, but he doesn’t deserve these tears, not after what he did.”

“No… no! You don’t get it! He was everything! We had a life planned out! Everything! I.. I don’t have anything left Greg… I.. I don’t understand what I did…”

“You did nothing wrong, you hear me? Nothing. This is not your fault (Y/N)?”

You shook your head, fully convinced that this was because of something you had done and Lestrade felt his heart breaking.

You would bend over backwards for anyone, you’d cross worlds for someone if you had to, you couldn’t do anything wrong to anyone.

He pulled you back in for a hug and just held you there.

“Do you want to stay with me?” He asked softly, “I don’t want you to be on your own right now.”

You sniffled and nodded your head and he grabbed your bag and your phone.

He led you to his car and quickly went back in to talk to the receptionist before he came back out and drove you to his place.

He showed you to his room and gave you some clothes to sleep in.

“I’ll sort the guest room tomorrow, okay? Just get some sleep I’ll be in the sofa.”

You just nodded and he left.

When morning came, you didn’t leave his room and after a few hours he knocked on the door, holding a plate and a cup as he nudged it open.

You were sat twirling your wedding back in your hand.

“Hey…” he whispered.

You looked up at him and set the ring aside, sitting up so he could put the plate in your lap and set the cup down.

He sat on the bed and looked at you.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Empty…”

Lestrade took your hand and gently squeezed it.

“You’re going to get through this okay?”

You just nodded and you looked down, noticing the bruises forming on his knuckles and the slightly cracks in the skin.

“What happened…?”

You looked up at him and he smiled.

“Don’t you worry about it. Eat up.”

You nodded and ate while he left to do some stuff and when he came back you were staring at your phone.

“(Y/N)?”

“He Uhm.. he wants me to come to the house…”

“Do you want to go?”

“I don’t have a choice…”

“Let me get changed and I’ll take you over.”

You nodded and you both changed and Lestrade drove you over to the house, making sure that you were okay and you wanted to go.

As he pulled up he got out the car with you and walked up to the door with you.

“Will you stay?”

“Of course.”

You nodded and walked in, finding Philip sat on the stair waiting and the moment he stood up you saw his face.

Bruised, dried bloodied nose, hair an absolute mess and red rimmed eyes.

He went to walk over but the moment he saw Lestrade next to you he stopped in his tracks.

“Can we… talk alone..?”

You looked to Lestrade and he nodded, staying by the door as you followed your cheating husband to the kitchen.

He begged and pleaded for another chance, saying it was a mistake and he’d never do it again but the damage was done.

You didn’t believe him at all.

You said nothing, you dig through your pockets and grabbed the rings, dropping them on the table.

“I’m getting my stuff and I’m going, keep the house, sell it I don’t care, same with anything I leave behind.”

With that you spun round and walked away, jogging up the stairs to start packing everything you owned and Lestrade followed you, acting as a bodyguard.

He wouldn’t let Philip anywhere near you, and he didn’t dare to try and get past his boss so he just waited in the living room, letting you grab your things.

Lestrade helped you carry everything to his car and you both got in, and once you were ready he started to drive.

“Greg?”

“Hm?”

He flicked his eyes to you before turning back to the road.

“Nice job.”

He smirked knowing exactly what you were referring to.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re on about.”

You smiled a little and looked out the window knowing at least you had someone to support you and make it a little easier

#bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #bbc sherlock lestrade #gregory lestrade #greg lestrade x reader #lestrade x reader #greg lestrade #lestrade x you #Lestrade imagine

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