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gentlemancrow · 3 years

Note

idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

#The Magnus Archives #TMA #JonMartin #Jmart #Fan fic #Crow Writes #Ask Drabble #Fricklefracklefloof

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

neither calm nor quiet

BTHB: Trapped In A Net

warnings: miscommunication, past familial and domestic abuse mentions, injury, violence, terrible decision making skills

When Virgil finally decided to brave shallower waters, it had already been nearly half a moon cycle since Logan had vanished.

He’d made excuses at first, telling himself that the dread he felt was just his normal brand of overwrought paranoia. For the first few days, he was half-convinced that his curiosity-prone friend would appear at any moment, probably lugging some sort of stray litter or ‘interesting human artifact’ along with him to explain why he’d been late.

Things would be normal again. Virgil would find some rocks for them to sun on and Logan would ramble on about the potential uses of his find, and maybe Virgil would teasingly suggest some outlandish way the trash was secretly a violent human weapon, just to hear Logan thoroughly refute it.

After another three days passed with no sign of the other selkie, Virgil was forced to let that fantasy fade. Logan had never been this late before, not even that time he’d managed to carry an entire minifridge along with him for Virgil to identify.

Something had to have happened to him.

He’d spent the next week scouring the currents for any sign of his missing friend, even approaching other pods and asking around, requesting that they keep an eye out for any signs of Logan. He didn’t expect much from that; the two of them didn’t socialize with other selkies often enough to make any friends, and their two-person pod was too small to spare any food during winter, so there was nothing for the other pods to gain by helping them.

Virgil knew better than most how selfish pod politics could be.

Every few days, he would return to their meeting spot and catch a few hours of sleep to keep himself from crashing, always naively hoping that Logan would be there when he woke. He never was.

In the end, he had to face what he’d already known from the beginning: either Logan was dead, or he’d gone onland and gotten himself bound by a human.

He didn’t want to believe Logan had decided to brave the human world even after Virgil’s many, many warnings against it, but believing the alternative was even worse. So, he steeled himself to do the one thing he’d sworn to never do again, and headed for the cold, rocky shores of the nearest human settlement.

Naturally, he spent so long swimming back and forth between different stretches of beach, trying to force himself to take those literal first steps, that he didn’t notice the woven fibers dancing in the water until he’d plowed right into them.

A fishing net, dyed skillfully to blend in with the water, and large enough that when he tried to twist out of it, he only became further entangled.

Panic set in, then, clouding his mind and leaving him thrashing ineffectively like a simple animal. He couldn’t help it-- he couldn’t breathe underwater in either form, had no gills to keep him steady as he was dragged along by the current. He couldn’t untangle himself while adrift, couldn’t find solid ground while tangled. He would drown.

Between one blink and the next, he found himself in open air, gritty sand pressed against his face. Waves crested gently around him, a sharp contrast to the headache pounding around in his skull.

He never thought he’d be relieved about blacking out and beaching himself, but then, he’d never been worried about drowning in his own element before.

Okay. There weren’t any humans around to see the stupid idiot seal stuck on the beach. This was still salvageable.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to bite through the netting with his incisors, and got a mouthful of sore gums for his trouble. The dyed fibers seemed to be woven around a base net of fishing wire, because of course they were. He let his head thunk back to the sandy ground, groaning at the new surge of pain the motion caused.

Sun-warmed saltwater continued to wash over his tail, and he blinked slowly, measuring his breaths. He could figure this out. He wouldn’t dry out. He just needed a moment to put himself back together. He could… He…

His eyelids grew heavy, and everything went dark.

Roman thought the guy was a pile of garbage at first, to be quite honest.

Not on purpose, of course! But, come on, when one sees a mound of mystery washed up on shore, it generally ends up being a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around half-rotted driftwood, not a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around beautiful strangers wearing expensive-looking fur coats!

His next thought, once he’d gotten closer, was that the beautiful stranger wearing the expensive-looking fur coat was dead, and that a body had washed up on his little strip of shoreline. Pallid skin, blue lips, and deep shadows under their eyes-- the beautiful stranger wasn’t exactly giving off an aura of vim and vigor.

He’d spent a few moments staring at his contact list, trying to figure out what in the world he was supposed to do about a body. Should he call 911? … Should he call Remus?

Before he could make a decision either way, he finally picked up on the shallow rise and fall of the beautiful stranger’s chest, and realized that they were still alive! Potentially not for much longer, laying out in the cold all soggy like that, but Roman could work with mostly alive!

And so, he found himself here, carefully carrying the small but surprisingly dense stranger up to his home by the cliffs, and risking looking like a total serial killer doing it.

He couldn’t help but theorize as he walked. A beautiful stranger in expensive clothing, tangled in nets with what appeared to be a head wound… It read like an old unsolved case in a detective novel, where the mysterious stranger in question got in too deep with some dangerous people and ended up clubbed over the head and dumped into a river to tie up loose ends.

“Except you managed to survive, obviously,” Roman said to them, mostly to reassure himself. He really had to stop eavesdropping on Remus’s true crime podcasts. “And you made your way to me! Excellent choice, I’m great at nursing people back to health. Probably. I don’t have much practical experience, but, you know, I’ve read extensively about this exact thing. In romance novels. As one does.”

The beautiful and mysterious stranger continued to be unconscious. Roman was starting to feel grateful for it.

His house was empty, thankfully, since his brother had work to attend to today. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before pushing the door open and carrying the stranger inside, sighing with relief at the warm air.

“That’s got to feel much better, hm?”

He sat the stranger down in the foyer, removing his shoes to go grab some scissors from the kitchen.

“First order of business,” he announced in his best announcer voice, “getting all that netting off of you. While I’m sure you could rock fishnet leggings, fish nets on their own just don’t have the same je ne sais quoi, you know? Also, they look very uncomfortable. You’re great at staying still, so just keep that up.”

He carefully cut his way through the looser parts of netting, pulling it off piece by piece until all that was left were the abrasions where they’d formerly cut into skin. Roman had no idea how they’d even managed to get that tangled up, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It couldn’t have been pretty.

In the process of removing the net, however, he’d noticed another rather pressing matter.

Going by the flash of thigh he’d accidentally witnessed while shifting the net around, the stranger definitely wasn't wearing anything under that fur coat of theirs. Like, nothing.

(Exactly what kind of situation had the stranger been in before this?!)

Even so, leaving them in a sodden coat couldn’t be good for their constitution. Or his poor couch’s upholstery.

Roman spent a few moments puzzling the situation out before coming up with a brilliant solution. He retrieved the fluffy gold comforter from his bed and draped it over the stranger, covering their front half with it. Then, he carefully worked their arms out of the coat’s sleeves, very pointedly not focusing on the adorable freckled shoulders this operation revealed. Finally, he tugged the entire coat out from behind them, wincing at the slight furrow that appeared in their brow.

“Sorry, sorry, I know the cold floor can’t be comfortable…”

Soggy coat removed, he was free to continue bundling the rest of the comforter around the stranger’s back, therefore making it easy for him to pick them up in a neat little bundle of blanket and deposit them on the couch. No nudity awkwardness required!

Pleased with his solution, he draped a fluffy towel over the stranger’s head and carefully dried some of the dampness from their hair. Next, he wasted no time in stoking the fire higher in his hearth, sending waves of warmth into the room and making it so the stranger’s skin didn’t look quite so clammy.

Once he’d cleaned up the mess left in the foyer and grabbed the first aid kit from under his sink, he planted himself in a chair next to the couch, feeling ready to handle anything.

“Okay, Google. How do I treat a head wound?”

Virgil felt as though he’d woken to a nightmare.

He was in the wrong body, surrounded on all sides by heavy fabric and warm air, and his coat was missing. That list of facts alone was just about as bad as any night terror he’d had.

The humming was unusual, though.

A soft tune, occasionally broken up by a half-muttered lyric or two, carried through the air, voice completely at ease. His mother had never sung to him in front of others, and it sure as hell wasn’t his father.

He tried to remember where he’d been last. The back of his head stung… he’d ended up on a beach? The tide had been turning, from high to low… He must have dried out up there, changed into his less durable form. And now he was warm and dry.

He clenched his fists weakly and grit his teeth, knowing that a human had found him and stolen him away. Just like his mother. He’d come to find Logan and lost himself before ever even starting. Typical.

“Are you with us, Sleeping Beauty?” a bright voice asked.

The humming had broken off while he was absorbed in his thoughts, and now he could hear the shift and rustle of movement next to him. He opened his eyes, already aiming the coldest possible glare at his captor.

He was sort of surprised to find that the human sitting at his side wasn’t holding his coat. His father used to make a point of handling his mother’s coat at any opportunity. He’d liked to watch his mother stare at it, resting assured that so long as he held it in his possession, she could do him no harm.

This human was much younger than his father had been, probably around as old as Virgil was now. He had dark skin and soft eyes that reflected the firelight, and he was smiling hopefully at Virgil.

“Hello there! It’s excellent to see you looking a little more lively! I was starting to think about actually calling the hospital, heh.”

Wordlessly, Virgil slowly shifted to sit up, shoving the thick blanket out and shaking the cloth from his head. He looked down, confirming what he already knew. No coat. The human hadn’t even bothered to dress him up in human trappings to ‘make up’ for the absence.

“Ah, yeah... I sort of basically pulled you out of the ocean and what little you were wearing was completely soaked.” The human rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I figured it’d be less of an invasion of privacy to just let you get dressed yourself once you woke up?”

Oh, the human was worried about his privacy? What a joke.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, truly!” the human continued, oblivious to Virgil’s rising ire. He gave a mocking little bow, pretending to respect the one he’d abducted. “My sincerest apologies.”

He was done playing along with mind games like these. Better to let the human know where they stood right off the bat.

“I’m going to kill you,” Virgil promised, and then lunged for the human’s jugular.

To his genuine surprise, he actually made contact, hands clamping onto the junction between collar and throat. The human let out a high-pitched yelp as his chair toppled over, taking both of them with it.

Virgil landed knee-first on the human’s sternum, and paused to blink down at the wheezing stranger, who apparently had been so confident in the weakness of his victim that he hadn’t bothered to bind Virgil from harming him in advance.

Unless.

His grip loosened slightly, just in time for the human’s fist to catch him squarely in the mouth. He threw himself backwards, rolling with the force of the motion to get some distance and hunkering in a crouch. It had been too long since he’d been active in this form, his sense of balance was in shambles.

The human scrambled to his feet, and grabbed the back of the chair, eyes wild. He thrust it out between them like a barrier, as though it could prevent any more strangulation attempts.

“What is wrong with you?!” he shrieked, voice cracking as his gaze flickered back and forth between Virgil and some far off point. “I tenderly nursed you back to health, and your response is to try and murder me? Unfair! Cruel! Rude!”

“Where is my coat?” Virgil replied, voice hoarse and split lip stinging. A test, because humans were tricky and loved to lie.

“Your— your coat?” The human pulled up short, head tilting slightly in a bewildered manner. A convincing actor, if nothing else. “Is that what all this is about? I put it on the coat hanger to dry! I know better than to try and wash someone’s fancy fur coat without permission, yeesh.”

A low warning growl in the back of his throat, Virgil turned his gaze from the current threat and followed the gesture the human had made.

Sure enough, there it was. His freedom, draped on a peg in the open with all the rest of the human’s fabric outer layers like some common garment.

“Do you… want me to get it— eep!” The human lifted the chair back up in paltry defense as Virgil snarled at him. He rose up and crossed the distance to his pelt in five wobbly strides, before the human could try and return it to him and lock them both into a loveless marriage.

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as he quickly wrapped his second skin around him, that grounding weight settling back where it belonged. He still couldn’t shift back, not here, but the ocean was close enough to taste in the air.

The human was still huddled defensively by the fireplace, looking indignantly bewildered and not at all like he knew he’d just given up the perfect opportunity to control Virgil.

Which meant that-- barring some incredibly convoluted scheme-- he really had no idea. And Virgil had tried to strangle him, even if under false pretenses. He drew the edges of his pelt closer around him, rolling the beginnings of an apology around in his mind.

The mysterious stranger was still glaring at Roman like they were contemplating continuing to try and strangle him to death at any moment.

He’d brought a half-drowned stranger into his home and tenderly treated their injuries, and what had he received in return for his efforts? A murder attempt, which now that he thought about it was maybe an outcome he should have considered earlier. Remus would never let him live this down.

Assuming he lived long enough for his brother to give him shit about it, that was.

The stranger seemed to at least be a little calmer now that their reclaimed coat was thoroughly wrapped around them, rendering them more lump-shaped than person. Roman felt much more secure in glaring back, too.

He set his impromptu shield/chair down firmly on the floor. “I have no idea what your problem is, Gloomy B. Jones, but where I’m from, the response to someone saving you from dying of hypothermia is ‘thank you’, not a strangulation attempt!”

The murderglare intensified. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Yes,” Roman said, disbelieving, “because you were too busy being unconscious. On the beach. In 40-below temperatures!”

“That’s my problem, not yours,” the stranger responded snappishly.

Roman threw his hands in the air, but his impending frustrated rant was impeded by the sight of a stifled flinch running through the stranger. Feeling a stab of guilt, he lowered his arms slowly before continuing.

“It seems I made it my problem when I dragged your soggy self all the way to my house, so--”

“Great news for you, then: I’m leaving.” Baring their teeth in a distinctly unfriendly manner, the stranger turned to do just that.

“Hold it!” Roman called, alarmed. “You’re going into town like that?! People will think you’re a flasher!” Even his brother wouldn’t go out dressed in nothing but an oversized coat. ... Probably.

The stranger paused, squinting at him warily. Roman took it as a cue to continue.

“Look, clearly we got off on the wrong foot here. Several wrong feet. Let’s try again. I’m Roman Faroe, I work for the local newspaper, and you are…?”

“None of your business,” replied the stranger, with all the stubborn petulance of a toddler digging their heels in and refusing to move whilst smack dab in the middle of an overcrowded supermarket.

“Would you like me to call you ‘Almost-Corpse-I-Dragged-Off-The-Beach?’ Perhaps make up a thematic nickname or two for you? Because let me tell you, this is exactly how you get called--,”

“Hold on,” the stranger cut him off, a realization seeming to dawn on him, “did you say you worked for the news?”

“Yes, I mean, the newspaper not the news. Although I’m sure I’d make an excellent anchor,” Roman gestured to all of himself for effect, “my true passion lies in my carefully curated romantic advice column!”

“So, you get all the information in town,” continued the stranger, who had a strange glint in their eye.

“I mean, if you want to be a nerd about it.”

“How about this.” The stranger stepped forward, straightening out of their defensive slouch for the explicit purpose of being just tall enough to loom over Roman. “You want to know my name? I’ll tell you, if you help me track down something important that I lost.”

An investigative quest for a mysterious MacGuffin? Roman swallowed, feeling his heart flutter wildly with what felt less like intimidation and more like excitement. He could totally keep his cool, he just had to open his mouth and say something suave.

“I also want to know your origin story,” he opened his mouth and babbled instead.

The stranger narrowed their eyes for a moment, and Roman belatedly remembered the near-strangulation. Perhaps he shouldn't be agitating a femme fatale type, what with all the emphasis on the fatale.

To his surprise, it only took a moment before they capitulated, sticking a hand out. “Fine. After my thing gets done.”

Roman shook gladly, trying not to shiver at the cool touch. Had they checked to make sure the stranger wasn’t hypothermic yet? “It’s a deal, then.”

“Great.” They twisted on their heel, stalking to the door. “Let’s get this over with, already.”

“Hold on there, Surly Temple.” Roman called, hand on his hip. “I hate to break it to you, but if you go into town mostly naked, the only news we’ll be hearing about will be your immediate arrest.”

The stranger glanced down at his attire, and then released the door handle with a low sigh. “... Pants first?”

“Pants first.”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts roman #selkie AU #bthb #bad things happen bingo #writing #my writing #neither calm nor quiet #ncnq #oneshot #... theoretically #disclaimer: do not do anything roman does here #he is a lucky fool #logan is fine btw #theoretically.#i feel like im forgetting tags. well whatever #selkies

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑠 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑊𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

°• ✾ •°𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

You were currently locked inside a secret room in your mansion. Hongjoong specifically had it made for situations like this. Even though the possibilities of someone finding you were slim to none, you were still frightened. You just wanted Hongjoong to get there as fast as he could and comfort you.

As if on cue, the door opened and Hongjoong appeared. You immediately got up and held onto him as if your life depended on it, the tears you've been holding in now finally pouring out.

"Shhh calm down honey, it's ok. I'm here now, don't cry." Hongjoong ran his fingers through your hair in an effort to comfort you, get you to calm down.

"I was so scared. I kept thinking they'd find me and maybe harm me or our.."

You couldn't finish the last part, but Hongjoong knew what you meant when you placed a hand protectively around your baby bump. He smiled at you softly and put one of his hands on top of yours.

"I promised that I'd take care of you both and I'm not breaking that promise. Don't be scared anymore, I won't let anyone hurt either one of you."

°• ✾ •°𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪°• ✾ •°

Seonghwa was currently trying to discuss a possible merge with another gang. Things seemed to be going pretty well, both sides satisfied with what the other had to offer. They were finishing up details on the contract when one of Seonghwa's men burst in, interrupting the meeting.

"Sir! Your wife just called! Some enemy broke into your house!" The man exclaimed, trying hard to catch his breath.

Seonghwa completely forgot about the meeting. Not wanting to waste another second, he ordered his car to be ready as he ran out of the room, some protests and groaning heard from the other people in the room.

But Seonghwa didn't care. You and the child you were carrying were his top priority. That's how he went well above the speed limit so he could reach the house in time to save you. Once making sure you were both all right, he started packing a few things.

"I'm taking you to stay somewhere else. I'm not risking anything again."

°• ✾ •°𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸°• ✾ •°

At first, Yunho wasn't going to take the call, but when they told him it was you, he immediately took it, knowing you wouldn't interrupt a meeting if it wasn't an emergency.

"Baby? What's wrong? Is everything ok? Oh my god! Please don't tell me the baby is already on the way!" He kept rambling on.

"No, not that. However ..... we have a little problem..." You stated.

"What kind of problem?" Yunho asked.

"Well, I heard glass shattering in the living room, so I went to look-"

"You went to look?! What if it was someone breaking in?!" Yunho scolded you.

"Well you hit the nail on the head, it was someone breaking in." You sighed.

"What?! I'm on my way! Stay calm! I'll bring back up just in case." Yunho was already grabbing his car keys.

"Can you also bring one of the medical staff?" You asked kinda sheepishly.

"Why?! Are you hurt?! Is our baby hurt?!" Yunho felt like he was getting a heart attack.

"No....but the guy who broke in is. You see, I was in the kitchen, so before I went to check, I was holding a frying pan.... and I may or may not have hit him really hard on the head with it and....well he ain't moving." You confessed rather awkwardly.

Yunho stood silent on the other line, trying to process all of this. He didn't know whether to laugh or get mad or just continue freaking out.

"Well I guess it's good to know you can still defend yourself. I'm on my way."

He shook his head as he hung up.

"That girl is gonna be the death of me."

°• ✾ •°𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

Yeosang kept fidgeting his finger on the armrest of his chair. He couldn't concentrate anymore on what was being said at the meeting. His mind was thinking about you, worrying about you and your baby's safety. He knew he could trust the men he sent to go help you out, but he was still worried about you. Perhaps he should have gone himself, he kept thinking that.

One of his men quietly came up to him and whispered.

"Your wife is safe. We found the intruder and we have locked him up. You have nothing else to worry about."

Yeosang released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He thanked the man before excusing himself from the meeting. He neglected you for too long. Upon seeing you, he ran to you and hugged you tightly.

"Thank God you're both all right!"

You could tell he was becoming emotional so you smiled to ease his worry.

"Yes, we're fine. Nothing happened." You assured him.

He took your hands in his and looked down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there myself..."

You leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"I trust you Yeosang, you know that. I know that even if it's not you personally, you'll still protect us no matter what. That's why I'm never scared." You confessed.

Yeosang felt immensely happy when you said that. He kissed your forehead and held your growing belly.

"Thank you for never doubting me or my love for you both."

°• ✾ •°𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷°• ✾ •°

San burst into the house, not caring that he literally busted his own front door down. He signaled for his men to quietly search around, not wanting you to be more frightened than what you probably already were. He searched in your bedroom.

"Y/N?" He called out to you.

Slowly, you peeked out from underneath the bed.

"San?" You asked.

"Y/N! What the-"

He walked over and pulled you out.

"Out of all the places, you choose to hide underneath the bed? You could hurt yourself or our baby!" He began fussing around as he gently rubbed your barely visible bump.

"Oh relax. I'm not that far along yet, and leave me alone! I panicked and that's the nearest place I could think of." You pouted and crossed your arms.

San chuckled at how cute you were and cupped your cheeks.

"You're so adorable." He pecked your lips.

One of his men interrupted you two.

"Sir, perimeter is clear, no sign of any intruder anymore."

San's smile disappeared and was replaced by a scowl.

"Fine. Search for any clues that could give out their identity. Report back to me when you find something." He ordered.

"Right away sir."

San turned back to you, who was standing with a smirk.

"What?" He asked.

"Your duality seriously is no joke." You teased him.

San giggled and pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek repeatedly.

"I'm just really soft for you and our little jelly bean."

°• ✾ •°𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲°• ✾ •°

"Mingi! I think someone broke into the house!"

Your voice echoed through the entire room, as Mingi had put you on speaker.

"What?! What do you mean?!" He asked.

"There's a mess all over the living room and kitchen! The couch is ripped up and several furniture is turnt over!" You were shouting now.

"Oh my god! I just heard some shuffling..." Your voice suddenly went quiet.

"Baby....just stay down and we'll be there." Him and the other members were already getting their guns ready.

"I see something moving in the corner! It's still here! It's it's-"

"Just lock yourself in the safe room!" Mingi interrupted.

"It's a dog?" You suddenly said.

"What?" They all asked in unison.

"Yeah. It's a dog." You repeated.

"What kind of dog?! Does it have a collar?!" Yunho asked happily.

"I think it's a golden retriever, let me get closer."

"No! Don't get close to it! It could have rabies!" Mingi warned you.

Suddenly the sound of something falling was heard.

"Y/N! What happened?! Do I need to call animal control and put the dog down?!" Mingi asked frantically.

"No! Don't put it down!" Wooyoung begged.

Your giggles were heard, making everyone confused.

"It's licking my face! And he's so cute! Can we keep him?!" You squealed.

"If you say yes, can we help name it?!" San asked.

Mingi pinched the bridge of his forehead, trying to calm down.

"Well this was certainly a very entertaining meeting." Seonghwa laughed.

°• ✾ •°𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

"So uh... don't freak out Wooyoung..." You started off.

"Oh no. Every time you tell me not to freak out, it's cause it's something worth freaking out about. So what is it?" He asked.

You sighed. "Ok. So while I was sleeping, someone broke into the house."

"What?! How?! Do you know who it was?!" He began asking, already gathering some people to go with him.

"No, I was sleeping." You calmly said.

"How could you have been sleeping?!" He exclaimed.

"Hey! Being pregnant makes me tired and when I'm asleep, I'm practically dead!" You defended yourself.

"Ok fine! But are you sure you didn't hear anything?" He asked.

You face palmed on the other end.

"Wooyoung... I told you! I was asleep! I didn't see or hear anything! I only know that someone broke in because the front door knob is broken." You responded.

"Ok that's it. I'm installing better security and hiring someone to watch you while you're sleeping since clearly, anyone can just come in then hurt you and you won't even notice till you're dead." He said, his voice raising 2 octaves.

"No! I won't be able to sleep if I know someone is watching me." You cringed.

"Fine. I'll watch over you and our baby then." He said decidedly.

"That's even worse!" You shouted.

"It's called making sure you're alive! Goddamit woman, stop being so difficult." He screamed back.

°• ✾ •°𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸°• ✾ •°

Jongho looked back and forth at you and the man currently tied up to a chair in front of you both.

"Run that by me again?" He asked, unable to believe your story.

"It's simple. I heard someone looking through some documents in the office, so I went to go check-"

"That was already a pretty stupid decision." Jongho cut you off.

You glared at him.

"I took a weapon with me!" You exclaimed.

"Yeah! The expensive vase that my mom gave to us on our anniversary!" Jongho gestured to the broken pieces of porcelain scattered around the floor.

"Well it was the closest thing I had in hand! Besides it worked! Knocked him out long enough for me to tie him up and wait for you to get here." You were actually proud of yourself for being able to handle the situation like you did. Jongho always said you were tiny and couldn't protect yourself, that's why you needed him.

Jongho sighed and looked back at the guy next to them.

"I mean.....I'd asked you to confirm her story, but I think you tied up basically sums it up."

The guy only nodded.

"Are you going to torture me now?" The man asked.

"Listen my man, you got knocked out by a tiny and pregnant woman, you a grown man. I think you've suffered enough humiliation for one day." Jongho snorted, but he was also proud of you for protecting yourself and your child.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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mellointheory · 3 years

Text

la lune, within our bones

He should probably be thinking about the kiss, but there’s pulsing lights and deep, determined bass and the buzz in his head from alcohol. The woman was sitting next to him at one point, but now one of her legs is hooked over his lap and her hands are in his hair and her lips are on his. He’s kissing her back, because on some level it’s what he wants to do, but most of his mind is occupied by watching the slow transition of the throbbing lights from blue to purple to red. There’s the wet-velvet sensation of another tongue in his mouth and the taste of peach from a drink he’s never tried, He’s not sure if he forgot her name already or if she never introduced herself in the first place.

“Oi, Punz!” Someone shouts. The woman pulls back, glancing over her shoulder at where Red stands with his boyfriend slumped in his arms.

“Stop trying to get your cock sucked and keep an eye on Ant for me while I go find Gumi.” Red orders, dumping Antfrost on the couch next to Punz.

“Sorry about this,” Punz says to the woman, compelled to apologize as he eases her off of him. She smiles, a little regretfully he thinks, and slides off the couch.

“Hi, Punzo.” Ant slurs, his cheek squished up against Punz’s shoulder. He’s absolutely wasted, eyes dilated from a combination of alcohol and lack of light to the point where his pupils have widened to take up most of his irises. His ears are perked upright, twitching and swivelling at the slightest noise.

“Hi, Ant.” Punz whispers back, because he knows the hybrid’s ears are sharp enough to hear him even if he keeps his voice down. “You ready to head home?”

Ant nods. His shock of pink hair looks purple in the blue lights, and Punz is compelled to reach over with the arm Ant isn’t pinning down and pat him on the head. Ant blinks, eyes drifting closed, and a stuttering purr starts up in his chest. If Punz had been irritated in the first place by getting interrupted, it would have taken no more than this to mollify him.

“Where did Red go?” Ant asks, lifting his head slightly.

“Getting Gumi.” Punz runs a hand through his hair, trying to get it to look less messy. He’s nowhere near as drunk as Ant is, but most definitely not sober enough to drive. Thank god Red’s less-than-legitimate profession as an enhancement maker gives him a better alcohol tolerance than the other three of them.

Red slides through the crowd again, this time hauling Gumi with him. She wavers a little when he lets go, but manages to stay upright.

“I’m gonna go get the car,” Red turns with a two-fingered salute and ducks through the throng of dancing, swaying people. Punz meets Gumi’s eyes as she waves, her mask removed for once and clutched loosely in one hand. She walks, very carefully, over to him and folds her arms.

“What’s up, bastards?”

“Hi, Gumi.” Ant lifts his head off Punz’s shoulder and raises his hand. Gumi lurches forward and high-fives him with more enthusiasm than her balance can handle. She stumbles and Punz rises to his feet and grabs her by the elbows, keeping her from falling.

“Can either of you walk?” He asks, turning to look at Antfrost still settled into the couch.

“Shut up, Punztholemew, I can walk better than you can!” Gumi declares. Punz already knows she’s lying. He takes a deep breath and turns around, hauling her up onto his back. She used to weigh less than she does now; but the metal reinforcements in her arms and legs add to it. Her chin rests on his shoulder and she folds her arms around his neck.

Moving slower, careful to keep from overbalancing the cyborg on his back, Punz reaches over to Ant and heaves him upright. If Foolish had agreed to come to the club tonight he would have someone to help him drag these two to Red’s car, but as it is he has to maneuver his way through the crowd and down the street without any help. He can sling Ant’s arm over his shoulders to help the hybrid walk, but Gumi’s too short for her to reach. He used to tease her for getting so many augmentations, yet not changing her height at all.

Red’s car is idling in the street when Punz has finally managed to shoulder his way through the crowd and get outside. The enhancement dealer reaches over and opens up the passenger side door, holding a hand out to his boyfriend. His pale green eyes catch the light from the club’s sign, turning reflective like a stray dog’s at night. Red is full human, much like Punz, but the amount of time he spends with whatever ingredients he puts in his concoctions...it changes him, subtly.

Punz slides Ant’s arm off his neck and helps the hybrid into the car.

“I miss my dawg.” Gumi mumbles into the back of Punz’s neck as he opens the car’s side door and eases her off his back into the middle row of seats. He slides in next to her and closes the car door.

“I miss Floof.” Ant says sadly from the front seat as Red steps on the gas.

“She’s literally at our house.” Red tells him patiently.

Gumi leans over and bumps her head against Punz’s shoulder. Her purple eyes are dark violet at the moment, lit only by the sporadic brightness of street lamps they pass. She’s not using them to read communications or analyze weak points or capture images, so their glow is dormant. It reminds him of back before she got her enhancements, when her eyes were always this dark and her bones weren’t reinforced with steel.

“Kazu’s at your apartment with your roommate, right?” Punz asks her, because he’d like to reassure her but he legitimately has no idea where her dog is. It’s not something he often concerns himself with.

“Yeah, but I miss him.” Gumi sighs, making grabby hands at Ant in the front seat. He flicks his tail back, above the center console, and she immediately wraps her hands around the soft fur. She always gets like this when she’s drunk; wanting to go pet whatever animal is in the vicinity. Antfrost is usually willing to stand in as a replacement when there are none.

The car falls into a comfortable silence. Punz stares out the window, watching the play of street lamps on the ground, how the light they cast dims almost to darkness until, just in time, another lamp is stationed to brighten the road again. Ant is purring in the front seat, the noise barely distinguishable over the rumble of the car’s engine. Gumi hums quietly to herself as she rubs the fur of his tail between her fingers. Every once in a while the humming becomes soft, mumbled singing that Ant joins in on before they both fade to silence again.

Sometimes Punz thinks about the irony of him and Red, both full unmodified humans, dragging a sloppy drunk cyborg and cat hybrid home from a club. Street noise down below, Gumi’s weight on his back as he stands outside the apartment door. Red fumbles with the keys, one arm wrapped securely around Ant’s waist as he tries to unlock the door. The hybrid is almost asleep on his feet, and as soon as Red gets the door open he uses his free hand to pick his boyfriend up and heads straight to their bedroom.

“I claim the burrito blanket!” Gumi whispers into Punz’s ear as he kicks the door closed behind them and carries her to the living room. He’s not actually certain if he’s ever been in this house sober, but both of them have slept on these couches enough that they know where everything is. He lowers Gumi to the loveseat and she immediately snatches the fuzzy burrito print blanket that’s draped over the top of it.

It’s easier for him to think without the overwhelming sound and lights, but his head is still foggy as he goes to the kitchen, squinting against the light that shines from the fridge when he opens it. He pulls out a bottle of water for Gumi, then one for himself, and leans against the door to close it.

“Punztholemew!” Gumi calls from the living room, head poking out over the top of the couch. She’s wrapped herself in the blanket, black jacket discarded on the carpeted floor. He looks over, then sighs and starts back to the living room.

“I love you!” She says, poking a finger into the side of his cheek.

He hands her a bottle of water. “Drink water, Gumi.”

“Say it back, bastard.” She frowns at him.

“I love you too, Gumi.” Punz says gently as he sinks into the recliner. She smiles and snuggles down against the arm of the couch, uncapping her bottle.

He lets his mind drift down into the haze of alcohol and exhaustion, staring at the blue light from the back of the tv. It’s the only light in the room and it illuminates the pair of couches, shag carpet, and Gumi’s curled-up form in soft milky light.

“Punztholemew,” she whispers, her face shadowed by the blanket wrapped all around her.

“Yes, Gumi?” Punz’s voice is gravelly in his tiredness.

“Where did my mask go?” She frowns.

Punz pats the front pocket of his hoodie and finds the curved dark mental there. He pulls it out and puts it on the coffee table. Gumi always wore the mask, even back when she was full human like Punz. He couldn’t have forgiven himself if he let her forget it at the club. “Here.”

“Oh, good.” Gumi yawns. “I miss my dawg.”

“You said that already.” Punz tells her. They keep their voices low, partially out of worry of waking up Ant and Red and partially because the dark room and the faint street noise and the blue, steady light of the television demand it from them somehow.

“Gumi…” Punz puts the hood of his jacket up and pulls on the strings, engulfing his face in white fabric. “Do they still hurt?”

She’s quiet, lifting a hand out of her blanket cocoon and staring at it thoughtfully. Hurting isn’t the word for it, Punz knows. Gumi could afford a technician who knew how to augment someone without fucking them up in the process. Hurting was just the way Gumi described it to Punz years ago, when they got drunk a few months after her surgery and she passed out on his couch crying about it. It wasn’t pain, she’d said, it was feeling like there was something missing about her, like the metal woven into her system made her less human. They didn’t talk about it often, only on nights like this when secrets whispered may not even be remembered when morning came.

“It still feels weird sometimes.” Gumi closed her fist, then tucked her hand back under the blanket. She lowered her cheek to the arm of the couch, the side of her face squishing up. “But nights like this are good. We all get to ignore them.”

Punz wasn’t known for his eloquence or anything, nor his ability to verbally comfort his friends. He wasn’t good at that kinda thing, nor did he fully understand what it was like for Gumi to have all of the little modifications that made her slightly more than human. All he could do was treat her the same as he’d always done: help carry her home even with the new solidity of the metal in her bones, let her lose her balance in her alcoholic haze even though if she wanted she could automatically stabilize herself even unconsciously. Let her have nights where she drank until she forgot, because sometimes it felt wrong to remember everything.

“Do you ever wish you hadn’t done it?” Punz asks. When she first made the decision she’d asked if he was going to do it too, and he’d said no because he couldn’t imagine letting his entire body no longer be wholly his.

“No.” Gumi’s answer comes without any hesitation. “I’m all strong and buff now. And I’m fucking cracked at combat.”

Punz cracks a smile. “You are.”

“I just like not always having to be like this.” One of her hands is absent-mindedly caressing the felt of the couch covers. “Is it annoying sometimes?”

“Is what annoying?”

“Havin’ to do all this funky monkey stuff for me when I’m wasted.” She giggles.

“Ant gets drunk as hell too and no one ever gets bothered by him.” Punz points out.

“It’s different, bastard.” She waves her middle finger at him.

“Damn, okay.” Punz laughs softly. “No, it’s not annoying. You’re just being you.”

“I’m s’posed to be better.” She mumbles, pushing her face into the arm of the couch. Silky black hair, highlighted in blue, blocks her face from his vision.

“You’re not supposed to be anything except our friend, Gumi.” Punz says gently. “And you still are. Always will be.”

“Pinky promise?” Gumi sticks out her hand across the gap between the two couches, hand in a fist except for her smallest finger sticking out. Punz stretches across, leaning a little to reach, and wraps his pinky finger around hers. She knocks their fists together, then lowers her hand.

“Love you, Punztholemew.” Gumi curls back up in her blanket burrito.

This time he says it back before she can remind him to.

#punz #vgumiho #antfrost #velvetiscake #velvetfrost #tw alcohol #a little different from what i usually write #mello writes #pummel party crew #ppcrew cyberpunk #long post

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wasabito · 3 years

Text

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true.

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer.

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once.

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance.

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture.

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment.

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly.

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too.

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit.

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up.

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!"

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?"

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #satori tendou #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #sabi.writes

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ghostie-galaxi · 3 years

Text

First Kiss with Ghost9

Their comeback has low-key got me motivated so I might be doing so more Ghost9 stuff for a few days

Junhyung

I think we all know he’s a literal puppy

Super excited about it and can’t hide it

Like if he’s nervous about it, he definitely doesn’t look like it

Probably takes you to a park or something to walk around and have a date with you

You both end up sitting down in the grass somewhere

Everything is kind of quiet around you both now

He turns to admire you

Places his hand behind you to lean closer

You notice and turn to look at him

He doesn’t hesitate much before closing the gap between you

Is literally smiling into the kiss from how happy he is

Pulls back and still has a smile on his face

Kisses you like 4,000 more times before he takes you home

Dongjun

I’d say he’d be nervous, unlike Junhyung

I also think we know he’s quiet and awkward

Wants to do it but doesn’t know how or when

But he picks a day and tells himself he has to do it

He invites you over to the dorms just to hang out with you

The more he talks to you, the more he starts to realize this might be easier than he thought

He just loves you so much and know’s it probably won’t be as awkward as he’s making it out to be

He holds you while you lay together on his bed

You both lay your heads downs and sit in the silence for a bit

Talks himself up a bit before bring his head up and leaning over to you

Just goes for it and feels super happy when you kiss him back

Pulls away and flashes a rare smile, just for you

Shin

Excited and nervous

Goes back and forth from being confident to questioning himself

Honestly makes it more awkward then Dongjun

He took you out on a shopping date hoping that maybe if you guys are busy he’ll be able to take his mind off of it being awkward

You both had fun and picked out matching outfits with each other

He got an idea and took you to get food for you both

And commence the cliché line of-

“You got a little something right there.”

“Where?” you ask wiping your cheeks

He presses his lips to yours but immediately questions it and pulls back

But that all vanishes when he sees you smiling and giggling afterward

Which now makes him happy and at ease

Kangsung

Shy but like, not that shy

Also excited but might need a little confidence boost

He seems more laid back confident but can get really shy and nervous

Took you to the Han River as a date to hang out with you

Held your hand as you walked around together

Literally couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole time though

Stops on a bridge so you could both look over the water

Sees the chance to do it but keeps hesitating

Finally decides to start slow and kiss your cheek first

You look over at him and smile cutely

That seems to give him enough confidence to lean in again and kiss you softly

Gets really shy after pulling back and seeing you all smiley

But gets over it pretty quickly and kisses you all the time for the rest of the day

Junseong

Low-key probably kisses you on accident

Like not “Fall on each other’s faces” accident but more like “Gets caught in the moment and just reacts” accident

You were both horsing around with each other and decided to make the other members victims of your games

You went along with pranking some of the other members by doing something then running away quickly and having them think another member did it and not either of you two

You did this a few times and were really happy with each other

He opened his arms to hug you tightly for a moment before he pulled his head back and kissed you right on the lips

It caught you very off-guard and it took him a whole of 5 seconds to realize what he just did

He pulled back shocked and scared of your reaction

But even despite your surprise you smiled and laughed anyways

He giggled a bit out of embarrassment as his cheeks were dusted pink

He instead then looked you in the eyes before kissing you again gently this time

Prince

Tries to convince himself he’s confident but just can’t bring himself to do it

Like he can tease you by getting close to your face, but can’t make the final move

Like when Jinwoo called him sexy in a video and he teased him by getting close to his face and then pulling away quickly, he does that

He did this a few times to you one day while you hanging out together at the dorms and you got an idea

You waited for him to do it again but instead of him pulling back, you put your hands on both sides of his face, stopping him from pulling back before kissing him

He’s now caught off guard but hesitantly melts into the kiss

You pull back and decide to tease him now

“If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

His face is now red and he shyly laughs out of embarrassment

But is happy though, and probably kisses you now

Woojin

Honestly, super chill about it

Like he’s not nervous but he’s not exploding with eagerness either

Just wants to keep it calm and casual

Invites you over to watch a movie with him

You cuddle together and low-key aren’t actually watching the movie as you’re both casually talking to each other

You lay your head against his shoulder and he just does it

Cups your face with his hand as he kisses you

You’re a bit taken back at the sudden gesture but still happy

You now spend the rest of the movie occasionally kissing each other and cuddlingly

Taeseung

Low-key excited, like not bubbly but confident and determined

Honestly just wants to make it a happy and cute experience for the both of you

Is definitely using his height to his advantage cuz he’s a giant child even as someone who’s 5’8” he’s still pretty tall

He invited you to meet his pets in his reptile room (and if you’re afraid of them he’s helping you over the fear)

You both having fun played with the animals for a while before taking a break

You go to hug him and look up at him

He laughs while looking down at you and wraps his arms around your shoulders

You teasingly stand on your toes to try and kiss him but he playfully moves away from you

You pout a little before he seizes the opportunity to come down and kiss your pouty lip

You look back up at him, wanting to actually kiss him now

You stand back up on your toes as he gives into your cuteness and kisses you properly

You’re both smiley about it for the rest of the day

Jinwoo

Baby

Nervous Baby

He’s the youngest so of course, he’s going to be the most awkward and nervous about it

Probably asked the other members what he should do

Decides to take you on a walk to be somewhat alone with you

Doesn’t talk much due to being nervous and you get concerned

You stopped to ask him if everything is ok

He says yes but you’re not too convinced and ask him if you did something wrong or if he’s questioning your relationship

He assures you that it’s not that and just tells you wants going on

"Is it ok if I kiss you...on the lips?”

He doesn’t look at you and his voice is quiet

"Oh, of course you can, silly.”

He looks back up at you before smiling awkwardly

You lean in first and he does the same

You both share a sweet short kiss and pull back giggling at each other

“Don’t scare me like that again, ok?

”He nods and feels a lot better now

#kpop #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop ghost9 #ghost9 #ghost9 fluff #ghost9 angst #ghost9 reactions #junhyung #dongjun #shin #kangsung #junseong #prince #padsidh #woojin #taeseung #jinwoo

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Sound the Bugle Now

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/Medic Reader

Word Count: 2,658

Warnings: Gore, murder of one animal, medical procedures, big Marcus whump, there’s a gladiator fight, Marcus dies for two sentences, don’t worry he’s fine, this is 99% angst, I’m sorry in advance, I promise it has a happy ending.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Eight months after the kidnapping of Marcus Moreno, and there’s no news. Everyone’s almost given up until a drone captures a photo of Marcus, and he’s definitely in bad shape. So the heroes make a plan, and that plan is sending you into the thick of it to help poor Marcus. What will happen while you’re in the cell with the missing man, and will he pull through in the end?

“I’m sorry?”

The request seemed crazy, especially coming from Miracle Guy. But he was definitely serious.

“We need you to infiltrate this location and find Marcus,” he repeated.

You took a breath. No one had seen Marcus in months, since he’d been kidnapped on his way home from work. Missy had been with you, as had been instructed in Marcus’s emergency file. She was sad and sullen, but still had hope. “Look. Miracle. We haven’t heard anything about Marcus in literal months. What kind of intel could you possibly have?”

Miracle Guy put a photo up on the projected screen. “That.”

The photo was grainy, clearly taken with a drone camera. It was of an abandoned warehouse outside of town, the roof of the warehouse caved in, allowing the drone to capture the photo. In the circle of rooflessness, you could see two men in a fighting ring, the ground soaked in blood. One man was clearly bigger, and around the ring was a throng of spectators. The smaller man had his hands up, defending himself, but even with all the grain of the photo, you could see that it was clearly Marcus.

“Okay.” You stepped back. “Why me?”

“He’s clearly in critical condition,” Miracle Guy said, pulling the photo down. “We need a medical personnel to go check on him. We’ll send you under the guise of you simply being there to treat him. We intercepted a letter by carrier pigeon, if you can believe it, asking for a doctor for their special guest. We’ll say that’s you, drop you off with a tracker in your bag, and voila, we have Marcus back.”

It was a risky and hole-riddled plan, but it just might work. You suited up the next day, putting on your crisp white coat and loading up your black bag. Adjusting your shoes, you got into the inconspicuous black car and drove off towards the warehouse.

As soon as you pulled up, there were at least six guns on you. A large man with a bunch of tattoos and no hair stepped forward, holding a gun in one hand. You took a breath and gathered yourself, stepping out of the car. “Are the guns necessary?”

The man smirked. “Of course. Who are you?”

You handed over the small letter. “Your doctor. The hero, he needs healing?”

The man took the letter and read it over, eyeing you as he thought. “Fine,” he decided finally. “He’s busy right now. Wanna see?”

It took everything in you to nod as if you didn’t care. The man led you into the building, and you immediately saw the fighting ring. Marcus staggered around, his clothes torn and bloody as he circled with a tiger.

They were making him fight a fucking tiger.

You looked at the man. “Does he fight like this often?”

“Whenever he can,” the man responded, rattling the chain link of the cage and shouting. “Oi! Hero! Finish it already!”

Marcus slipped, nearly tripping. The tiger pounced, and your breath caught in your throat as Marcus weakly grappled with the animal. The man shouted happily, his cries mixing with the crowd’s. Apparently, people were betting on the tiger.

How disappointed they must’ve been when Marcus let out a nasty sob and plunged a jagged piece of metal into the tiger’s heart. He fell limp beside the exotic corpse, chest wracking with sobs. Two men carried him off, and you watched him go with wide and fearful eyes.

The man turned to you. “Isn’t it fun?” He asked.

You shrugged, trying to keep your face emotionless. “It’s interesting. If you want him alive, I should probably see to his injuries. He looked bad.”

“Agreed.”

The man led you down twisting and turning halls before he finally stopped in front of a metal door with a window fitted with bars. He unlocked it and gave you a shove inside.

Marcus was cowered up against the corner, blood pooling across the floor. He looked up when you walked in, and surged forward. In an instant, he was convulsing and backing away, returning to the corner, whimpering as his hands scrambled to claw at something on his neck.

You seethed, feeling rage boil in your blood as the man pulled a remote from his pocket and waved it in front of Marcus, causing him to whine and shy away, pressing himself against the wall even further. They’d outfitted him with a fucking shock collar. Now that you could see and notice it, you saw that the harsh leather of the collar dug into Marcus’s neck, the small black box on the left side of his neck pressing deep against his skin. It was clearly buckled one notch too tight. Eating, breathing, moving his head, it must’ve all been agony for him.

Aside from the collar, to say Marcus was in rough shape would’ve been a gross under exaggeration. He was at least ten, if not fifteen or twenty, pounds lighter than when you’d lost him, his face sunken and sallow, the usual brightness gone and replaced with a sickly pale color indicative of severe blood loss. His lips were chapped to the point of bleeding, his nails nothing more than bloody stubs or missing altogether. His hair was overgrown, greasy and hanging in his face. Even the usual persistent determined shine in his eyes was dull and faint. The conditions of the room, the lack of regulated temperature and light, the heavy smell of vomit and infection, the stains everywhere, nothing was meant to keep him alive. They intended to kill him, but not before they had their fun.

You had to hand it to his captors. They had successfully broken Marcus Moreno.

The man holding you shoved you, and you would’ve fallen flat on your face had your sense of balance not been impeccable. Stumbling and using the wall to keep upright, you glared at the man. “If you want me to fix your broken hero,” you said coolly. “The collar has to go. I can smell the infection from here.”

The man sneered, but he pressed a key card to Marcus’s collar. It beeped, signaling that it could be taken off.

Immediately, you rushed to Marcus’s side, worry replacing every other emotion you had. “Oh Marcus,” you breathed, just looking at his body. “What did they do to you?”

You helped him upright, guiding him to the metal tray you suspected he slept on. It reminded you, with a chill, of the rolling trays you kept bodies on in a morgue.

Marcus shivered as you lay him down, grabbing your bag and digging through it to find your shears. The heavy duty blade was technically meant for surgical procedures, but for now, they chewed through the thick leather of the shock collar with ease. You knew you could just take the collar off, but on the off chance that the man had tricked you, you weren’t about to try it.

Removing the collar led to a host of new challenges. The prongs had burned into Marcus’s skin, leaving two identical wounds that oozed and smelled like burnt flesh and infection.

Trying not to let Marcus see your worry, you continued to catalog injuries, finding severe bruising across his whole body, a few spots where injuries had been left to fester, and a rattling cough that worried you.

You determined a course of action, immediately setting Marcus up with high strength painkillers and a few travel machines that would keep watch on his vitals. The last thing you wanted was to perform CPR on his purple and blue chest.

Running a finger down Marcus’s ribs, you sucked in a breath. He was skin and bones, malnourished to a point where you wondered if he’d ever regain all the weight he’d lost.

“Talk to me,” Marcus croaked out, surprising you. “Please.”

You nodded, tackling the worst of the injuries, the infected burns on Marcus’s neck. “Missy’s been staying with me,” you said softly, putting on gloves and pressing gently against the wounds, face pinching when Marcus suppressed a whine. “She’s good, misses you of course. Anita visits on the weekends and we play board games together.” As you talked, you gave Marcus a hefty dose of infection cream, hoping it would work on the persistent infection until Marcus could be treated properly. Putting a thick bandage on the wound, you moved on to gently treating his other infected cuts in a similar manner, each one just a bit better than the last.

“I can’t do much for these bruises,” you said, running a light finger over a bruise that spanned most of Marcus’s left hand while you wrapped his missing ring fingernail. “Or that cough you’ve got. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Marcus rumbled. “You’re here, aren’t you? And you’re gonna get me out.”

You smiled tightly. “Yeah.” All you could hope was that the tracker in your bag was still working and that the team was on their way. “Here, I’ll get you a blood bag. I don’t like that color on you.”

Marcus grinned, sleepy and lazy. “What do you mean? I think bloodless grey is a perfect color on me.”

That managed a chuckle out of you. “Brink of death, and you’re still making jokes,” you murmured, grabbing a blood bag from your supplies and putting it beside the painkillers. “Hey, you’re bleeding,” you said, eyes snapping to the side of Marcus’s head, where blood was slowly trickling down his ear. He turned, laying his left ear on the metal tray so you could examine his head. He looked past your body, staring at the blank wall behind you.

You parted the hair above his ear, trying to find the source of the bleeding. Thankfully, it wasn’t a hard find. A small scratch that looked worse than it actually was. A few stitches and he’d be good to go.

“Alright, my favorite part of field work,” you said. “Miracle Guy cried last time he had a head wound.”

Marcus snorted. “Wish I could’ve seen that,” he said wistfully.

You smiled. “Maybe next time. Hold still.”

Marcus watched you as you dug through your bag and produced a small foldable straight razor. It was shoddy and unsteady work, but with a bit of water, some gritty soap, and your deep breathing to keep your hands steady, you got a clear patch above Marcus’s ear, exposing the wound and thankfully not giving him any new ones.

“Okay,” you said, mostly to yourself. “A few stitches. Then we’ll be good to go. Still hanging in there?”

Marcus swallowed thickly and gave you a wavering thumbs up while you threaded a needle. Of all the pain he’d been through, stitches with no anesthesia would be mild.

As you worked, you continued doing what had always kept you grounded during field work. Listing injuries. You needed to know them all for when the heroes arrived and asked what was wrong, how could they help? You slowly started at the top of his head and worked down. A likely concussion, the stitches in his head, the black eye, the split lip, the still oozing wounds that stank of infection in his neck, the scrapes across the raised bumps of his collarbones. So many injuries, and you’d not even gotten below his shoulders yet. You didn’t know what he’d been exposed to here. Was he sick? If so, what did he have? The cough and the rattle in Marcus’s lungs was bad, definitely some kind of upper respiratory infection. His temperature was higher than you’d like, at an even 100. A fever, but not a severe one. His lymph nodes were nearly unfindable amongst the mess of injuries on his neck, but you had no doubt they were swollen.

Marcus’s coughing broke you from your thoughts. You stopped cataloguing, focused now only on the heave of Marcus’s chest. “Marcus? Do you feel okay?”

More coughing, and then it finally died, leaving Marcus heaving for air. He trembled, and you sighed. The rescue team couldn’t get here fast enough.

Unable to do more, you sat back and held Marcus’s hand, trying to rub some color into the almost lifeless skin. Marcus’s stuttering breaths were the only sound, and you tried not to get discouraged.

You had no idea how much time passed before a shout made you jump to your feet. That was a familiar shout. Miracle Guy.

“We’re in here!” You yelled, rushing to the door and pressing yourself to the bars. “Miracle! Please!”

He appeared before you as if you’d summoned him, suit a bit wrinkled, but otherwise unharmed. “Did you find him?”

You nodded, standing back so Miracle Guy could take in Marcus’s state. He was frozen for a few seconds before he blinked and started waving to people down the hall. “The paramedics are here. They’ll keep him safe.”

It took all your willpower not to fight the paramedics as they carted Marcus’s limp body away. His eyes lazily opened when they stuck him with a frighteningly large needle, and he whined, tearing up when they started to move him.

“I know,” you said, smoothing over his dirty and overgrown hair. “I know. Stay strong. Think of Missy. She’s waiting for you.”

Marcus chose that moment to pass out fully, but that was optimal in this scenario. You followed the paramedics out, numbly stepping over bodies and ignoring the blood seeping into your socks. You were wearing Marcus’s blood from fingertips to waist, a little more wasn’t any worry.

The other heroes helped you recover, cleaning you up and praising you. Missy hugged you for half an hour, every minute filled with tears. You were numb to it all. Nothing could help you now.

Marcus was in critical condition for three weeks. His heart stopped twice, and he needed surgery after surgery to even start to reverse the damage done. Finally, once he’d stabilized, he was allowed visitors.

You and Missy were first.

Marcus looked over as you entered. His eye was no longer swollen and some color had returned to his skin. He was still underweight, but no longer looked skeletal. His head had been completely shaved, and beneath the bandages, you could imagine where they’d had to cut into his skull at one point. His neck, the area you’d been most concerned about, was wrapped in thick bandages, but a nurse had told you they’d finally begun to see improvement in the infection. He still looked terrible, but he was no longer on death’s door.

“Dad,” Missy said softly, stopping in the doorway.

“Missy.” Marcus’s voice was weak, but just that one word was so full of love. “Hey.”

Missy sat on the edge of Marcus’s bed, eyes full of tears. When he raised his arms, she collapsed against him, crying.

You sat silently in a chair, trying to find words that would be appropriate. Missy fell asleep against Marcus, his arm loosely around her shoulders while she slept.

“So,” he finally said. “Thank you. They said you saved my life. Your field work was the deciding factor.”

That, surprisingly, only made you feel worse. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Yeah.”

Marcus’s face knit. “You look worried.”

You shrugged. “I-“ you still had no words. “I dunno,” you finally decided on saying. “What’s retirement like?”

Marcus chuckled. “Fun,” he said. “They’re talking about releasing me in a few months, after I do physical therapy and my weight stabilizes. They said I’d need a properly trained assistant to be with me at all times until I was in good health again.”

“That might be never.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agreed. “So I guess I’d better really like that nurse.”

You smiled. “You better.”

“Would you do it?”

You thought it over. “Yeah.”

A grin split Marcus’s face. “Good. We’ll get through this together.”

Standing and sitting on the edge of the bed, you nodded, smoothing a hand over Missy’s head. “Of course. Together.”

#we can be heroes #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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blu-archer · 3 years

Text

Cold and Comfort

Sickie: Hybrid Jungkook

Caretaker/s: Taehyung/Hosoek

Snz and comfort based.

Poly pairing.

Alternate universe

Magic and hybrids are a thing, this is technically a universe that I write in often but I’ll probably categorize it differently from my previous Yoonmin based one...

I thought I’d post this since it’s been sitting in my files for a while, it’s probably not great and feels a little unfinished but I’m going through some stuff so it’s probably not going to get better than this... so yeah.. Sorry for any grammatical errors

Word count: 4894

****

Perfect. Because a storm was exactly what he needed right now.

Jungkook sniffled meekly as he burrowed his face further into his scarf, glaring tiredly at the icy rain that flooded the streets just outside the safety of the campus Fine Arts building. His studio class was technically still in session, but after trying and almost completely abolishing the wood block that he needed to carve his image into for his print media class, Jungkook was calling it quits almost two hours early.

His head and throat ached in a way that could only mean one thing, and he really didn’t appreciate the timing.

His printing project was due in just over a week and his lecturer already had it out for him for the amount of times he’d had to skip class or post pone meetings due to clashes with his minor dancing course. He couldn’t exactly help it though. It wasn’t his fault that his schedule tended to overlap a lot.

Jungkook stepped closer to the double doors, huddling behind the one that had remained shut in order to limit the amount of cold wind that entered the building. It was pouring buckets outside. The entire sky was painted a dark charcoal grey, making everything outside seem a lot more depressing and gloomier than what it should have been. It also didn’t help that while Jungkook was quite padded for warmth, his coat and jacket were not waterproof, and he did not think to bring an umbrella.

To be fair it hadn’t been raining when he’d left that morning.

He sighed heavy and rearranged his scarf so that his droopy, black ears managed to just slip under the material, making his neck marginally warmer. Ultimately he could wait for Yugyeom or Jaehyun to finish with their classes, while they didn’t have a car they did store umbrella’s in their lockers by the dance studio’s, but that would be a while still. And he couldn’t call any of his friends or boyfriends because they were all either working or out of town and he didn’t really want to make them come out of their way for a distance that would literally take him thirty minutes to walk through. It would honestly take them longer to get to him than it would for him to get home. He really just needed to stop over thinking the cold and rain and just walk now. He knew he was getting sick anyway, he could already feel the heaviness settling into his body, so a quick walk probably wouldn’t make it that much worse. Hopefully.

Before he talked himself out of it or his lecturer could possibly come and find him hovering in the hallway instead of class, Jungkook stepped out into the brisk and awful weather. He hugged his arms around himself and tried to stick close to the buildings so that he had some form of shelter, but there was nothing that could really shield him from the immediate sheet of icy water that smothered and drown him with each step he took.

So maybe walking hadn’t been the best idea.

His body trembled until it had finally reached a peak point of numbness about halfway back home. He had crossed over the bridge by the highway and was beginning to weave his way through the streets that held all of his favourite cafes and stores, but there was no stopping for anything today. It was like a spell had been cast over the town so that no one even thought to wonder outside. He had only seen a few cars as well, none of them stopping in their journeys – not even slowing down when passing by the soaked bunny hybrid. There was one car in particular that had driven so close to the sidewalk that the puddle it had gone through had shot up high enough to smack straight into his face. If the rain and wind hadn’t been so loud Jungkook was sure he would have been able to hear the water in his shoes squelching with each step.

He tucked his chin deeper into his chest, rubbing a wet hand against his nose as the cold caused a ticklish buzz in his sinuses. He could feel cold rivulets streaming down his ears, leaving him feeling uncomfortable and heavy headed.

He really hated the rain.

Eventually he turned up at home, walking up the three flights of stairs with shaky caution after he’d slipped on the first few before sighing at the relief of being sheltered and indoors when he finally reached the corridor that held their shared apartment. He sniffled and shook as he fumbled for his keys, taking far longer than usual to find the right one for the door. His neighbour had passed him with a look of sympathy as she carried on to her apartment, seemingly coming back from fetching her small child from school. He accidentally dropped them when he tried to slip a key into the lock. He could feel his neighbours gaze one final time before she disappeared, in which he then promptly sneezed deeply when he bent to retrieve the keys from the floor. After a few more shaky attempts he managed to get the door open, taking off his soaked shoes and bulky layers as soon as the door was shut and locked behind him, almost immediately sneezing twice into his fist from the warmer change of temperature.

Jungkook let out a wet sniffle and groaned as he shook his head to try getting rid of some of the water that had soaked into his ears and hair. It was mostly unsuccessful. There was now a puddle of water in front of the door where he had been standing and he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care about the trail he was leaving as he went down the passage to steal clothes from Tae.

He took his time in the shower, just standing under the hot water while his skin turned red and he burned the chill out of his skin. It was only when he started to feel light headed from the heat that he decided to get out, drying quickly to avoid the cold before changing into the softest baggiest clothes that Tae owned – it also happened to be Jungkook’s comfort clothes and had been since he and Tae had first started dating in high school. There was something about the scent and feeling of the material that made Jungkook feel completely and entirely safe. Perhaps it was because Taehyung had had the set of clothes for so long, and Jungkook couldn’t even begin to associate the items with anything besides his childhood best friend.

He scrubbed his hair with a towel, not feeling up to the effort of blow drying it, before grabbing the fluffy green blanket from Hobi’s wardrobe to drape around his shoulders. He needed something from both of his boyfriends, needing something with their scents. Hoseok had claimed that the blanket had magical properties purely because his mother had given it to him when he had studying overseas for a year, and it had kept him from most of his homesick thoughts or general dips in his mood. And therefore, it had quickly become a shared item for whenever one of their household felt down or off, there had even been a time when Jungkook had stolen and nested with it before Hoseok had moved in with them. It had been mildly embarrassing at the time, but if anything, it had helped ease any concerns Hoseok had had when he had first decided to try a relationship with two people – no longer fearing if Jungkook had just been tolerating him for the sake of Tae.

The bunny got to work on heating up some of the left-over pizza from the night before, grabbing a carton of banana milk from the fridge before finding his phone that had surprisingly fared well, despite how wet it had gotten from his walk.

Skipping past the group chat that he had with Tae and Hobi to avoid any unnecessary concerns, since he didn’t need Tae to know he had walked through a storm when the witch wasn’t anywhere close to check on him, he shot a brief text to Taehyung asking how the little workshop that Namjoon had taken him to for the day was going, then switched to Hoseok’s contact.

To: ~♥Sunshine☼~

Hobi, left studio early. Wasn’t feeling the mood… When are you coming home? It’s cold.

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

One more class, then solo session with a senior. How’d you get home? Gyeomie ask Jackson to drop you?

Jungkook cleared his throat gently, taking his newly heated food from the microwave so that he could sit in the lounge and sprawl out on the couch. He looked at his phone again to see that Tae had answered him as well.

To: ~♥Sunshine☼~

Walked. Yugyeom was still in class.

From: ~♥Tae♥~

Learning so much! I met this really cool person that owns a crystal shop, so I can restock on things while I’m here. Might be home a bit later than planned but will definitely be back tonight! Love you!! Give Hoseok kisses for me when you get home!

From: ~♥Sunshine☼~

Bun…

Jungkook quickly sent a ‘stay safe’ to Tae before he tossed his phone aside so he could focus on nibbling his food with little interest while he played some anime softly on the TV. He snuggled down in the cushions to get comfortable and emptied his mind of any stressors that had been plaguing him.

He doesn’t quite remember at what point he had fallen asleep, he hadn’t done much besides lay around or make coffee since returning from class, so he hadn’t expected to be able to slip so easily into resting, but he wasn’t complaining about it. He’d been stressing enough over his upcoming assignments that sleep was a blessing that he hadn’t been getting enough of right now.

Jungkook rolled over on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around himself as he did, hoping that he would just go back to sleep. He rubbed his face into the blanket, scrunching up his nose as something tickled at his sinuses. He sniffed and tried to ignore it, but when he realised that it wasn’t going to subside he pushed himself up right. Squinting in confusion as he realised what he had thought was still natural light was in fact fluorescent, the TV had been turned off as well. He frowned with a sniff. He was waking up enough to realise that it had gotten dark outside and that meant that he probably wasn’t home alone anymore. Which… would make sense.

It took a few moments for him to get to his feet. His head had spun for a bit before he chanced putting any effort into being vertical, but he did manage to stand and stretch – not waiting a second longer before grabbing the blanket once more and wrapping it around his shoulders. Making his way to the kitchen to find water, his nose twinged once more and he snapped forward sharply with a throaty “Huhe’TSHhh”, merely tightening his grip on that blanket before he ducked down again.

‘Heh’ehhhshheww … Heh’eehhhTCHsheww!’

“Bless you, Kookie.”

Jungkook sniffled and blinked blurrily into the kitchen space, only noticing that Hoseok had been seated at the table going over what he could only assume had to do with the dancers students.

“Thangks.”

Hoseok’s brows were furrowed with concern as the bunny hybrid just made his way towards the cupboard to drag out a glass before taking it to the fridge to find cold water. Jungkook wanted to cringe at how wet his sniffling had now become but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

“How you feeling?” Hobi asked, concerned but toned down enough for the bunny to know that he disapproved of his actions. The elder glanced away briefly to continue checking his exam schedule, not looking at Jungkook as he said, “The walk must have really gotten to you.”

“mmm…” Jungkook gulped down his water before he discarded the glass and moved so that he was behind his boyfriend, rubbing his face gently into the crook of Hobi’s neck even if the dancers body language had first implied that he was mildly annoyed. “I’ve been feeling off all day. But it’s worse now, my head hurts.”

That caught Hobi’s attention. He twisted in his seat so that he could hold his hand to Jungkook’s face. “You’ve been sick all day? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you even go to class?”

Jungkook shrugged. “If I said something then Tae wouldn’t have wanted to go to that workshop thing, or you would have tried to get the day off, even though you’ve been trying to work at the school as much as possible for your students right now. And anyway, I was hoping that I would be able to get some work done. I didn’t think it would rain.”

“Oh god, you walked in that while sick?” Hoseok pulled the hybrid into his arms so that his head rested on Jungkook’s shoulder. “My poor bunny, I swear you’re going to shave years off of my life with how easily you just disregard your health. Have you at least taken something?”

Jungkook grimaced. Hoseok let out a heavy sigh before getting to his feet and tugging the hybrid back to the couch that he had fallen asleep on earlier. Because of course Jungkook wouldn’t have taken something. Of course he would have waited until someone came home, and would have not bothered to mention anything about how he had felt before then – always quick to not be any form of immediate inconvenience.

“We don’t have much of anything left from last time… I’ll call Tae to pick something up, hopefully somewhere is still open.” Hoseok left Jungkook after covering him with the blanket, moving into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a box of allergy meds and a thermometer. “I know it’s not much, but if you want to take something now…”

Jungkook didn’t complain, merely dry swallowed two pills before allowing Hobi to slip the thermometer under his tongue. He pulled the blanket tighter around him as he coughed – lips drawn tightly together to avoid spitting out the device before it was ready. Hoseok took a seat beside him, running a hand up and down the length of Jungkook’s spine. He peered at the hybrid with a heavy, concerned gaze as he waited patiently for the small alerting beep – pulling the stick from Jungkook’s mouth when he did finally hear it. His concern didn’t ebb.

“You’re a little warm… but that’s not particularly surprising.” Hobi murmuring, watching Jungkook’s lips fall into a soft pout and his ears droop further into his face. Hobi peeled some of the blanket back, having to tug it a bit when the bunny gripped tighter, and half pulled Jungkook into his lap so that they were both covered by the fluffy green warmth.

He sent a somewhat lengthy text to Taehyung with stern instructions before he let his arms become a frame around the larger boy that had pushed himself into his chest. A wet nose pressed to his neck.

Hoseok sighed but didn’t put forth any humorous complaints like he usually would to lighten the mood, he had a feeling as much as Jungkook would probably try laugh at them, he wouldn’t necessarily appreciate them. So, he merely embraced the other, kissing at his hair line as the bunny drifted off.

….

Hoseok had been catching up on some series when Jungkook had woken up, wanting to shift positions so that he could lie length ways on the couch and use Hoseok as a pillow while he slept – which had maybe lasted an hour before he had begun to cough and rub at his nose insistently.

“Do you want to sneeze maybe?” Hobi asked gently as he ran a hand over Jungkook’s ears. “It might help…”

Jungkook whined and sniffled into his boyfriends lap. It had to have been over three hours now since he had taken the allergy meds and he was a mess. The itchy feeling wasn’t leaving him and he wanted to sleep, or at the very least be able to focus on whatever series Hobi had put on. He rubbed his nose into Hobi’s stomach with very little progress. Hoseok took to slowly running his hand up and down the length of Jungkook’s left ear, hoping to send some sort of content through the hybrid.

It was mostly working, Jungkook sighed and relaxed his tense body. While he was still feeling the active buzz in his sinuses, a familiar warmth flooded his system and he was left uncurling his tightly pulled in body as the fuzzy sensations started to travel down his spine.

Hobi smiled. He easily forgot how soft and submissive Jungkook could be when he wasn’t feeling well, it wasn’t something that Hoseok particularly enjoyed to see, since the hybrid was usually sick or in pain, but it wasn’t all bad. Especially from the caring side of things. It wasn’t terrible to have Jungkook cling to him or Tae and seek general comfort and closeness more than being keen on isolating like he himself usually did. Or at least he usually tried to. Living with Taehyung and Jungkook had taught him that there was no running from cuddles.

Jungkook gave small pleased ‘hums’ as Hobi gently began to rub at the soft ears, moving in massaging circles from the bottom all the way up. When he reached the base, Jungkook subconsciously raised his head to push his ear harder into Hobi’s fingers. His body giving a light tremble as Hoseok laughed and focused his attention on where Jungkook’s ears met his hair, enjoying the soft sounds that escaped the bunny.

“Is it good?” Hobi asked teasingly when he noticed Jungkook’s foot twitching into a tapping motion on the couch. He wondered what it felt like. He had always been too shy to ask Jungkook about what he went through each time he or Tae played with his ears or tail, despite being in a relationship with the bunny for almost 2 years now and seeing that what Jungkook felt was clearly one of pleasure, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask the details. As a human he’d probably never understand it properly, and he didn’t want to seem jealous of it or something – because he wasn’t. He was just curious, and he’d much rather be able to be the giver if it meant seeing his bunny writhe and moan at his touch.

He’d have to remember to ask Jimin, maybe he could give a better explanation and pointers than what the internet did.

Jungkook moaned as Hobi found a particular spot right at the base of his ear, the bunny had been leaning into it so much that he was holding himself almost upright with his arms propped under him, hovering over Hobi’s lap now. His mouth hung open a bit with heavy breaths and glazed eyes peered through dark lashes. Hoseok rubbed harder, watching as Jungkook sniffled persistently and shivered against him.

“You okay still?”

“mmmhh, it’s good…jus-just ti-ticklish..” he sniffled wetly. “I’b gonna sne-hih-sneeze.”

Well this was new, but not entirely unfamiliar territory. Taking pity on him, Hobi started to rub at the other ear as well. A deep bubble of heat burst through him as he watched Jungkook’s expression switch from pleased to downright euphoric. His breath stuttering and hitching as Hoseok become more determined in his activity. Jungkook was so beautiful, even when he looked like a mess. It was a hot mess, one that Hoseok had been a participant of creating. It didn’t take much longer before Jungkook was crumpling into his chest, tears brimming in his eyes.

Heh’ ehHHESHEW! ISHHHEW’uh Heh’EHHTCH’ahh… Hih..snf… Hiehh’TCHshhiew!

“Bless you.” Hoseok could feel the spray settling on the visible skin of his collar bone. “Are you done?”

Jungkook sniffled deeply, letting out a heavy sigh that forced him into a bout of soft coughs. “It still.. ugh.”

“Tickles? Should I fetch you tissues? We can coax them out if you want…”

Jungkook didn’t answer verbally, just sunk his face back into Hoseok’s neck while his hands clung to the elders shirt with an iron grip. That was as much an answer as he was going to get.

They remained in that position, both having fallen asleep at some point, until Taehyung came sneaking into the house later that night. The witch winced as he accidentally bumped into the trellis of plants by the door that Jimin had gifted him a year ago when he was shaking water droplets from his hair. The sound resonating through the silent apartment with more volume than he would have liked. His wince returned as he realised that Hoseok was blinking wide, blurry eyes through the darkness in his direction, the only source of light being the T.V. that his boyfriends must have forgotten to turn off.

“Sorry, it’s just me.” He reassured softly before flipping on the passage light so that Hoseok could see him better without bothering Jungkook too much. Tae lifted up a large, damp paper bag that hadn’t been able to fit in his backpack with the other materials he’d bought throughout the day. “I got some stuff. Most of the places had closed already but I found this one pharmacy that had just closed and convinced one of the workers that it was extremely vital that I got medication and stuff, so he let me inside for a bit. Praise that guy. Much thanks was given. A saint amongst people.”

Hobi let out a soft chuckle at Taehyung as shuffled closer to set a gentle kiss against his temple before leaning down and brushing the hair back from Jungkook’s face to press a kiss too his forehead as well.

The witches brows drew together at the slight heat that radiated off of the hybrid. He ran his hand through the bunnies hair, giving a gentle scratch at his ears as he watched Jungkook cuddle closer to Hoseok in his sleep. The blanket that covered them slipped down a little and Taehyung was quick to tuck it back under Jungkook’s chin.

“Is he feverish? This came on so quickly, he seemed fine earlier.”

Hobi yawned widely, shifting in his seat but not making a move to push Jungkook off. “I thought so too, but he told me that he woke up feeling sick. He also left class early and walked through that storm to get home.” He sighed and Taehyung’s brows raised with surprise, his mouth slightly ajar as if he wanted to say something but no words came out. “I think we can be grateful he isn’t worse. I gave him some allergy med’s since its mostly his sinuses that were bothering him and that’s all we had, but they didn’t last very long. He was miserable for a while before he got to sleep. I don’t think he ate much today either…”

“…Should we give him something now?”

Hobi bit at his lip. He knew hybrids could tolerate certain things a bit better than humans could, but he still didn’t like the idea of giving the bunny medication on an empty stomach. And eating at this hour… it must be at least close to eleven pm now.

“ If we feed him now he is probably just going to get nauseous. I don’t want him to feel worse..”

Tae nodded in agreement, still carding his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. “We can make a nice breakfast tomorrow and give it to him then. I got some new herbs and crystals, so I’ll make him some new charms as well. For you too.” Hoseok smiled at Taehyungs concern. “You still have classes tomorrow right? Yoongi is still out of town so I don’t really have to go into work. Namjoon is probably sick of me hovering anyway. Between him breaking jars and me doing the wrong measurements and methods, Yoongi may just bury us alive when he gets back.” He chuckled nervously, but Hobi knew that Tae had mixed feelings of disappointment and worry when it came to his work. “I just mean, I’ll be able to stay with him.”

“I know.” Hobi replied, staring at Tae’s downward gaze. “I think we’ll both appreciate the effort, Tae. I’ll try get home early, but it will probably be just the two of you in the morning. Just email his lecturers.”

“Of course…” Tae pressed another kiss to Jungkook’s forehead, then to Hoseok’s lips before the elder broke into another yawn. “I’ll pack this stuff away quickly then we can head to bed, just give me a second.”

The witch disappeared, not trusting himself to try to levitate anything like Yoongi had taught him -he was still only getting it right a third of the time. So it took a bit longer than he planned, but he eventually packed away the food and goods that he’d gotten and left his charm materials and medication on the table to be dealt with in the morning. He re-entered the dim lounge to see Hoseok gently shaking Jungkook to a somewhat state of consciousness so that the elder could get up.

When Jungkook let out a deep whine Tae moved beside them and slipped his arms under Jungkook’s legs and back to lift him up. It was a bit of a struggle at first, since the angle was weird, but he bumped the bunny up in his arms to get a better grip and then carefully carried him to their room down the hall. Hoseok was a bit slow to follow, taking a moment to stretch and get life in his legs before he joined them. Jungkook buried his face into Tae’s shoulder as the lights in the passage forced him further into the land of the living.

“Tae…?” Jungkook sniffed, then pushed harder against Taehyungs body. “Eh’hii’ehSHHieww. Eh’iishieww!... … ‘m sorry.”

“That’s okay, Bun. Bless you.” Tae murmured. His shirt was still a little damp from the rain when he had to climb the stairs anyway. “Let’s get you to bed, Hobi is bringing your blanket so you can stay warm and comfortable.”

Jungkook nodded before sneezing again. Behind him, Tae could hear Hobi’s soft blessing and sloppy, half asleep movements as he used furniture and the wall to no doubt help him walk. Taehyung forced himself not to grimace at the delayed thought of how both of his boyfriends had kept him in the dark about things for most of the day. Hoseok had probably been exhausted from his classes and yet he had chosen not to bother Tae with any concerns until it was late, and Jungkook had acted like nothing had been wrong at all when he’d spoken to him earlier…

He kicked open the bedroom door with a shake of his head, walking into the dark room with perhaps a bit too much force. He was being dumb. This wasn’t necessarily about him, and he knew that. It’s not what he was supposed to be focusing on.

He set the hybrid down on their bed, opening up the duvet and encouraging him with little pats to roll towards the center, before he went and grabbed the ‘magical’ blanket from Hobi who was still only halfway up the passage – sparing an embarrassing chuckle as Tae picked him up as well – so that he could give it to the bunny before he started to look for it.

“You should change.” He said once he had set Hobi down and left him to handle settling Jungkook with gentle pats. He tossed some sweatpants and a T-shirt at Hoseok, before grabbing his own pajama’s to change into. “How was school?”

Tae listened to Hoseok tiredly ramble on about his students and the upcoming exam preparations while they both got dressed for the night. Overall, it sounded particularly stressful, and some of Hoseok’s kids weren’t the most hardworking – even if they had the talent to be amazing. Hobi more often than not would break down in spiralling rants about how they needed to work harder or at the very least pay attention in class. Honestly, Taehyung couldn’t fathom who wouldn’t be interested in having Hoseok teach them. The man was one of the most passionate people he had ever met, it was actually what had drawn him to the human. Of course now there many other traits that he loved, but Hoseok’s passion would always be his first.

He added a brief skim of his daily events, knowing that even if Hoseok was trying his best to pay attention, the elder needed to sleep more than he needed an immediate recap. Tae merely ended his tales by saying that it was ‘Knowledgeable and fun’ before he ruffled Hobi’s hair and jumped onto the bed, cuddling up to Jungkook’s sleeping figure. He imitated the bunnies deep snores and earned muffled laughter from the elder as he joined them on the other side of the bed.

“Good night TaeTae.”

“Sleep well, Hoseok.” Tae murmured. The lump in his chest from early slowly melting away as sleep dragged him into darkness.

#bts sickfic #bts fanfic #taekookseok #bunny hybrid jungkook #witch taehyung #dance teacher hoseok #sick!jungkook #sneeze #colds #alternate universe #ended badly #sorry

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ninnodesu · 3 years

Text

The New Matriarch, ch 6

AN: Okay, this chapter is A LOT better than chapter 5 in my opinion, hahah. I'm just churning out chapters right now during christmas break, it's great!

Again; Thank you sooo much for reading! It's so much fun seeing the statistics and see that people like my little story. <3 Oh! Regarding the name "Kit": This is mostly just a placeholder name, do not fear! It is still You/Reader friendly ;)

TW: None, really. Maybe some light mentions of bullying!

Thomas B. Hewitt.

Thomas was grumpier than usual today at work. When he’d arrived, his work station had been vandalized. There were snickers and giggles behind his back as he had to clean up his little corner of the slaughterhouse almost all morning. It was covered in trash. People had literally dumped at least one trash can all over his station, might’ve been two, even. Rotten food all over his bench, some stuck to his cleaver. Everyone thought it was hilarious to mess with the residence retard. It was one of those days. One of those days where he was - apparently - only at work as some kind of comical relief to lighten the mood of the otherwise gloomy workers, at least that’s what they had decided.

At one point the ones responsible for the mess he had to clean had even pushed one of the shy girls right into Thomas’ chest, making cat calls and whistling towards them as a way to mock both at the same time.

The girl because she was shy and cried easily, and Thomas because… well… he looked like he did.

He wasn’t able to properly start butchering until maybe an hour before lunch, his boss yelling at him a handful of times before that.

What did I ever do to any of you assholes… Not only did he have to clean up the entire morning, there wasn’t enough food at home so he couldn’t bring lunch… and his cleaver was getting dull. A mental note to bring it home the next day to sharpen it.

This. Was not. His. Day.

I just want to go ho- , his inner sentence was interrupted by a hard dunk on his back, knocking a bit of air out of him.

“Hewiiiitt!”, one of the several bullies he’s had comes up with two of his friends holding his arms out wide, they’re smirking.

So you did this.

“Did ya’ like our present, Hewitt?”, he nods towards the trash can and starts laughing, “We got it specially for you.”, he chuckles before continuing, “Oh, and, I hope you don’t mind I take Laurie for myself, since you uh… wouldn’t know what to do with’er even.” A barking laughter erupts from the three of them at the end of his jab against Thomas, making everything personal. The end of his sentence makes Thomas turn towards them and glare down through his dark curls. The men take a step back, they can probably literally feel how Thomas’ anger starts boiling as he straightens up and flexes his biceps towards them. A clear sign they’re starting to royally piss him off.

He would never use his strength to physically hurt people, but he does know how to make them leave him alone, at least for a short period of time, they know he could crush their skulls if he wanted to. And they never go into fist fights with the giant. All they do is emotionally drain him, they make him know he’s different, not like everyone else, and that he never will be. He’s the village dumb animal and that’s his only purpose in life.

They laugh nervously as he stares them down. “Haha, you really are an animal, Hewitt.”, they just laugh as they turn and leave him alone in the now empty slaughterhouse. He plants his hands flat on his table and glances over at all the parts he has left to cut up before he can leave without getting reprimanded by his boss the following day and sighs heavily.

I fucking hate all of you.

It’s dark out when he’s finally done with his work, thankfully, his dull cleaver made it so he could snag more pieces of rejected meat with him home. At least something good came out of this shitty day at work. More food for his - now - bigger family and he tried looking at that like a consolation prize as he lumbered home in the dark, letting his mind wander.

I want a name for her.

Even if he didn’t want to speak to her, he still wanted to give her a name until she could remember her own, she couldn’t walk around with no name in the house.

Sure, I’m not going to openly talk to her…

He cleared his throat at that as a reminder for himself that he still had vocal cords. He made a conscious choice not to speak several years ago. But on lonely nights, or when he was alone - and knew no one could hear him - in general, he hummed, or spoke to himself, thinking aloud or mumbled reminders for only him to hear, to make sure his vocal cords were still there. The two words he had spoken in the barn a few days back the most he had actually spoken in… months, maybe years. His family had gotten used to his body language and mannerisms when they talked to him.

I can alwa-, again, interrupted. But this time by a family of foxes running across the dirt road. He stopped and just stared at the bigger one as it stopped in the high grass in the ditch on the other side, looking over at a small collection of babies that sprinted across it after looking over at the giant in the distance.

He smiled as he figured out what to call her.

Kit.

He hummed slightly, picturing her in his mind. Her face, the kind eyes that always crinkled when she smiled at him or his family, trying out the new name to see if it would fit her face.

Yeah. Yeah, I like Kit.

He readjusted the bag he had thrown over his shoulder and kept trudging home through the night, a tired sigh leaving him as he started to see the outline of the big house in the distance.

The house was silent, obvious evidence that everyone else was asleep, so he made sure to walk as quietly as he could on his way to the stairs leading to the basement, snagging a few pieces of the leftovers and shoving them into his mouth on the way down to the damp and musty basement where the coolers were loudly brumming and vibrating. Alone, he seized the moment to talk to himself.

“Let’s see… ”. His voice was raspy, but deep, and vibrated throughout his body. He rummaged and rearranged in the freezer box to take out the packages whose date seemed to run out to put it on top of the ones he had brought today. “Pen… penpenpen… ”, almost having to turn the entire basement over to find the one he usually uses - and mentally punishing himself for never putting it in one specific place - he scribbles down today’s date before putting them in the bottom of the box. As he stands and stretches he’s greeted with a series of tired pops in his spine. “Getting old, Thomas. ”, he mumbles before lumbering over to his basement corner. Not having the energy to climb the stairs.

He just wanted to sleep. Unbuckling his mask he rubs his hands all over his dried cheeks to ease the blasted itching all over him before kicking off his boots and laying down on the creaky bed. A yawn that transcends into a small, deep moan escapes him as he tucks one arm under his pillow and the other reaches under his shirt to scratch a spot on his stomach. “Kit. ”, he says out loud to try it on his tongue. “Mmmh. Kit is good. ”, is the last sound that leaves the basement before his snoring takes over.

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

You

You woke up in your bed, not really remembering when you went to sleep, but you decided to cuddle up a bit under your blanket before the morning heat reached your body and you had to force yourself up out of bed.

As usual, it was quiet in the house. “It’s really starting to get lonely here…”, you muttered to yourself as you descended the stairs. You were greeted by a few piglets running around in the kitchen as you entered.

A yellow paper struck you in the otherwise white and gray kitchen.

A note.

“Mornin’, dear. Breakfast is on the table.

Love

- Luda Mae.”

You looked up from the note and towards the table, and sure enough. There it was. A plate with a few sausages, a fried egg and a small piece of bread. You mentally thanked Luda Mae as you sat down, tucking a leg under yourself and started munching on your - now cold - breakfast while watching a few piglets running around. Occasionally you threw a piece of sausage at them which they happily ate. “I wonder why you live in here, piggies.”, you said to them as you downed the last of the meal. You hummed a bit at a thought before heading over to clean your plate and fork.

After drying your hands and putting the dishes away to dry on their own you turned on your heels and leaned back at the sink just looking around. “Now what…”, you giggled as you poked a pig with your feet and watched it twitch. “What should we do now, little guy?”

You sauntered away from the kitchen, into the dining room and just looked around. Taking in the homely - but not the cleanest - house you were in. You’ve never seen this before, never seen these people. But then again, maybe you weren’t even from around here… Everything before meeting Thomas in the barn was a blur, a darkness you really couldn’t remember. And right now, at this moment? You were happy you couldn’t remember anything. All you knew at this point was that you were relaxed.

You knew you’d been on the run, you remember the Box, but no details. Not your name, not where you came from, you knew an estimated age of yourself, but still no details.

You came from the darkness, yes, and Thomas was your light. Your beacon of hope.

Your venture took you into a room with a piano and a couch. You approached the piano and started tinkling on the keys, it was really out of tune and you couldn’t help but to laugh at how bad it sounded. But you shrugged and sat down in front of it and started poking the keys. Thinking you knew any kind of melody you could play, but it was fun nonetheless. After your solo concert you found yourself sitting in the grass outside, legs sprawled in front of you under a tree, the shirt you’d borrowed tickling slightly as a breeze caressed your skin and you closed your eyes. “This is nice.”, sure it was quiet, and sure you were lonely… and bored . But it was a relaxing kind of silence where you could lay in the grass if you wanted, take a nap on the porch if you felt like it. No stress and no need to live up to any expectations.

It isn’t until late afternoon that you finally notice the family starting to drop in. You’re on the couch in front of the TV lazily watching, not even paying attention to what is on when someone suddenly kicks the sofa. “Fuck you think you doin’?”, you jerk and look up at the grumpy man, Charlie, standing there with his hands on his hips shooting daggers at you. “Been home all day and not done anything ‘round the house.”, you don’t even get the chance to reply to him so you resort to shrinking in on yourself. “I uh…”, he interrupts you before you get any chance to defend yourself. “Listen here, girlie.”, he gets down low and right up in your face and grab it harshly to make sure you’re looking at him, “Mama might be treatin’ you good n'all, hell, she won’t stop talking ‘bout ya’”, he sneers and looks annoyed, “But you’re in my house, so you listen’ to my rules.”

His grip starts to loosen on you.

“So, ya’ see, honey. If you want to stay here, livin’ a good ass life, ya’ better do ya part, understand?” All you can do is nod weakly, after you do, he pats your cheek a little harder than he had to and gave you a tobacco smelling kiss on your forehead before he left. You mind starts hurting slightly, the treatment making something you can’t fully decipher before your eyes

You didn’t dare move off the couch after your meeting with Charlie. You kept your place on the couch until dinner was served. The other older man, Monty, had joined you, but you didn’t care. He didn’t care and acted like you weren’t even there. Dinner was just as uneventful, you all ate, but without Thomas. A knot started growing in your stomach when he wasn’t present, Charlie scared you already. And you had only been there for about three to four days. Barely talking to him, the few times you did meet him he shot you nasty glances. Eyes that traveled uncomfortably over your body.

After dinner was over and done with, Luda Mae invited you to have evening tea with her on the porch, and you, happy to accept, almost sprinted out to get away from mainly Charlie. He didn’t seem to dare say or do anything against you when Luda Mae was in ear shot.

Your house my ass... , you thought when you’d notice that small detail.

So, here you were having a cozy evening with at least one you enjoyed spending time with.

“You seem tense, darlin’”, she spoke up from her crocheting and glanced at you. “Is everything alright?” You looked over at her and gave a crooked smile. “I’m… I’m alright. It’s just…”, you shook your head and proceeded to rest your chin on your hand. “Can I ask you something, miss Mae?”, you tilted your head. “Mmhm.”, she hummed as she went back to her crocheting, the tone of her voice seemingly knowing what you were about to ask about.

Thomas.

The two of you ended up talking about Thomas for several hours. Luda Mae told you she found him in a dumpster outside the very slaughterhouse he works in, how he from an early age suffered from a skin disease they couldn’t afford to treat due to her and her family already living on the verge of poverty. She told you he was heavily bullied in school, and when he was around twelve left it altogether. Charlie helped him get a job at the slaughterhouse and that’s where he’s been since. He’s a gentle giant to the ones he considers family, he’s strong but never abuses his power.

“So, uhm… is there any specific reason he doesn’t speak?” She folded her hands in her lap and sighed heavily at that question, she had been teary eyed all through Thomas’ story, but now it seemed they started falling. “Due to him takin’ a knife to his face it hurt him too much to speak, and even eat. He stopped eating for a long time. He utters a word sometimes, but… that’s it.”, her voice trembled and she took a deep breath to continue, “My poor boy stopped talking completely when he was around… fifteen. And I haven’t talked to him since then.” You did the numbers in silence before gasping slightly “He hasn’t talked for nineteen years?”, she shook her head slightly. “I do miss talkin’ to him. He always did have the best laugh I’ve ever heard.”, she smiled to you. “Ya’ know the deep, rumbling kind, I remember him always laughing until he folded over.” You giggled slightly at that, picturing Thomas folded over in a deep laugh with his arms clutching his stomach.

It was a lovely image.

#The New Matriarch #TNM #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfictiom #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction

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vcidgalpin · 4 years

Text

Second Chance at First Line Pt 1

Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Eventually)

Season 1 Masterlist

Word Count: 2074

A/N: Secrets get revealed, suspicions are raised and tensions keep rising between Y/N and Stiles. It’s only a matter of time before things bubble over.

Warnings: None?

After just getting in from school, I got a call from Lydia. I pick up quickly and recognise her worried tone instantly.

“Y/N, It’s Jackson. He got hurt during Lacrosse practice pretty bad. Can you come meet me at the hospital? They kind of creep me out, and I just want someone to distract me,” She needed a friend, so I grabbed my keys and told her I will be on my way.

I get there pretty quickly, and hastily make my way to where she said she was. I turn a corner and see Stiles standing talking to someone who I can’t see from where I’m standing.

“I always thought that we just had this kind of connection. Unspoken, of course. Maybe it'd be kind of cool to... get to know each other a little better.” Lydia.

“Hold on just- give me a second. I didn’t get any of what you just said. Is it worth repeating?” A breathy laugh escapes my mouth before I stop it and Stiles whips his head, noticing me finally. He rolls his eyes at me before replying to Lydia,

“No. Sorry. I’ll just sit- You don’t care,” He slumps down in a chair, sending me daggers. “Of course you’re here, why wouldn’t you be?”

“I was just thinking the same thing, funnily enough. What law are you breaking today? Body snatching? You know, breaking into the morgue?” I joke, with a venomous tinge on my tongue, but I hear his heart skip a beat, which caught me off guard. Are they seriously planning on breaking into the morgue? “You know, just because your dad is the sheriff, doesn’t mean you should try and push the boundaries as much as humanly possible because he can get you out of it. Do you want your dad to get fired?”

That clearly struck a nerve with Stiles, because he pushed himself up out of the chair and stood close to me, eyes boring into mine.

“Don’t talk about my dad. You-you think you know everything, huh? God, what is your problem? First you follow me everywhere and then you start coming for my family. Get a life,”

“Get a grip, Stilinski. I am not following you and I would never do anything to hurt anyone on purpose, so get your head out of your ass. This is real life-”

“Y/N! I thought I heard your voice!” Lydia sang out, from a few steps away, clearly curious about the ruckus that me and the buzz-haired boy were causing. I force the anger off of my face and walk over to Lydia, not before shoulder checking Stiles as I passed.

“Lydia! How are you? How is he?”

“He’s almost done, I think they’re going to give him a cortisone shot,”

“Guessing he’s not too happy about that.”

“I think he’s just stressed in general, he does so much,” I hold back a scoff, I don’t want to test or upset Lydia so I give her a small smile for comfort. A moment later, Jackson walked over to us.

“Did he do it?”

“He said not to made a habit of it but one cortisone shot won’t kill me,”

“You should get one right before the game too. The pros do it all the time. You want to be a little high school amateur? Or - do you want to go - pro?” Lydia always knew how to get what she wanted out of people, which is a talent, but it’s also scary as hell. By now, the couple were making out, way too aggressively and publicly for my liking, so I took a step back, looking around. I caught Stiles staring at them from behind a pamphlet on menstruation. Scott rushes over to him and lowers the booklet, scaring the other boy.

“The scent was the same,” They talk so openly, it’s like they want me to actually start following them round, like what I’m accused of doing.

“So he did bury the other half of the body on his property. So we have proof he killed the girl. I say we use it,”

Lydia nudges me in the side to get my attention.

“You coming?” I needed more information, but I didn’t want to seem suspicious. All I need is confirmation of my guess that they’re talking about Derek.

“Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play in the game and he said you couldn’t?” Thank you, Stiles.

“Uh- yeah sorry I’m coming,”.

“Do you like him or something?” She pushed, clearly investigating why I was watching them so closely.

“Kind of the opposite, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Where are we headed?”

---

Around 11pm, I saw Scott walking out of his house as a blue jeep pulled up. I throw on a coat and tie my hair up, rushing out to my car to trail them to the Hale house. Or, I guess, what remains of the Hale house. As soon as I get close enough to walk there on foot, I stop my car and hop out. Quietly, I make my way to the burned building and see Scott and Stiles trying to find where the body is buried. Weirdly, all I can smell is a dead animal, possibly a wolf? I haven’t been around many actual wolves, living in California and all, but the smell is what I’d think one would have. Slowly, I can feel a headache coming on, and I get slightly dizzy as I crouch by a tree near to the pair.

“Something’s different. I don’t know how but…” Scott's words fade out. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Now that I am here, following them, I do feel a bit odd. Morbid curiosity always seems to get the best of me. It’s not my responsibility to watch over Scott, but I feel drawn to him in a weird, subtle way. He was a lot like me when I first turned. Stubborn, channelled my anger into an activity I never used to be good at, but enjoyed. In my case, that was track. I may be clumsy when I walk sometimes, but when it comes to running it’s a different story. Before I turned, I always wanted to join the track team, but the leaders all didn’t think I was cool enough, or whatever. In Beacon Hills, I never bothered to even look into track, maybe I should get into it. I usually just run in my free time. Anyway, I think I feel some weird connection to Scott because of how similar we genuinely seem to be. Looking back at the boys, I can see that they have finished digging, and are now freaking out about what they’ve come across.

“I told you something was different.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Stiles huffed, for some reason upset that they didn’t find a mutilated dead human in the ground. I get wanting Derek in jail, he likely killed someone, maybe multiple people, and if he buried a wolf in the ground, that’s clearly the actions of someone who has something wrong with them, but I still wouldn’t be happy to see a dead girl either.

“We gotta get out of here.”

“Wait, look. You see that flower,” Stiles points at the purple flower sticking out of the ground. Wolfsbane. That explains the headache. It’s basically right in front of me- Crap. Stiles quickly makes his way over to examine the plant further, and he almost immediately sees me, awkwardly crouched down.

“We really need to stop meeting like this,” Forcing a laugh, I speak first.

“Are you serious with this,” He mutters under his breath first before speaking up a bit, “What’s the excuse now, did you just think, oh you know what would be fun? Going to sit and stare at the Hale house at 11 at night? Seriously, what’s your deal?” By now Scott was over next to Stiles. He seemed on edge at the fact that Derek could likely find them at any time. Suddenly Stiles gasps, a thought hitting him. “You’re the alpha. That has to be it!” I accidentally laugh quite loudly, before slapping a hand over my mouth. “It’s either you or Derek.”

“It’s not me. Wait, Derek’s a werewolf?” I question before realising what I had let slip. “I mean… Alpha?” Okay that was a terrible cover up.

“How do you know so much about werewolves? What are you, some kind of hunter or something? Oh my God, do you work with Allison’s dad?!” He is all over the place with his theories. “No. I- I just know a lot about… stuff.” Maybe it would be better if I stop trying to lie, because I’m evidently not very good at it. “You’re a werewolf,” Scott finally speaks. “I didn’t know why part of my smell is different to other people’s, but I just figured it out. You have it too, so does Derek.” He’s got me there. But wow I feel out of the loop. I have never been close enough to Derek to get his scent, or I would’ve known this information before. Quickly, I realised I don’t have a rebuttal for Scott’s accusation, and panic. Guess the cat’s out of the bag, or whatever the wolf equivalent of that phrase would be.

“You’re a quick learner Scott. You got me but-” Before I can speak Scott moves at lightning speed and pushes me against the tree, his arm over my throat. “Wait, I’m not the Alpha okay!? I wasn’t purposefully following you until tonight… And I guess that time when I said I was on a jog- but that’s it!”

“Then what’s your endgame here?” Scott growled out, his voice low and threatening. I could easily push him off me, but I’m scared that a sudden movement would not be good for me, especially with this lack of trust.

“I- I don’t know, alright. I promise I’m telling the truth. Hey- you wanna know a trick, listen hard, find my heartbeat okay? You can tell me if I’m lying. I’m just curious, and I knew you were turned recently, so I felt the need to keep an eye out. I know how it is to be newly turned, and I always wished I had someone to mentor me. I’m not gonna assume that’s what you want, but I know a lot more than you do right now, so if you want to learn, that’s good with me. If not, please just let me go and I will leave you alone, alright?” My words were rushed and my speech was scattered but I think I got my point across, even with my lack of breathing ability. Scott’s arm eased up on me, so I gasped in more air, grabbing at my throat.

“She told the truth, Stiles.”

“Or she’s learned to control her heartbeat. Listen, you really want to trust this girl who has been spying on us for God knows how long.”

“Hey, what is your problem with me? I literally haven’t done anything to you, I’m here for Scott. And I guess for my own morbid curiosity too, but none of that has anything to do with you, Stilinski.” I spit out, I can feel myself losing control. “You don’t like me? Fine. But I can help you both get Derek in jail for whatever he did, and I want to find the new Alpha. That is if it isn't Derek.”

“New Alpha? Are you not part of his pack?” Scott tilts his head.

“No, I was turned ages ago. Before I even moved here, my Alpha was some douchebag guy from school. But he disappeared a few months before I moved here, so I don’t have a pack.”

“Are you looking for the Alpha so you can join his murder spree?” Stiles snarled.

“Are you stupid? I’m not looking to hurt anyone okay. This guy seems dangerous. Alpha’s who turn random teenagers are always trouble, I know first hand. Scott, we have already gone through such similar things. Do you want my help?” He pondered for a second, sinking his hands in his pockets.

“What can you tell me about Wolfsbane?” A smile crept onto my face. Happiness flooded me, it felt so oddly good to be trusted by him. Stiles muttered under his breath,

“I know about Wolfsbane too,” kicking the leaves around his feet.

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#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf series #teen wolf season 1 #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #scott mccall

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meliakim · 3 years

Text

Purple Seokjinie

Seokjin dyes his hair purple for Mun’s birthday.

*Mun’s POV*

“Oh my gosh, just give me a moment!!!” I said, trying to catch my breath after laughing so hard at Namjoon singing a karaoke song… er… rather, shouting it. Hobi and I were about to do a duet together, so I tried to compose myself. As soon as the music to our song started playing, I broke down laughing again, causing everyone to laugh with me. “I think Mun-ah must’ve had too much sugar tonight!” Taehyung commented, looking over at the giant birthday cookie that we had instead of cake.

I never liked making a big deal of my birthdays, but that is certainly not the case when it comes to my boyfriend. When my birthday came around two years ago, they were all in the middle of their Wings world tour, so I spent it alone… Seokjinie ended up video calling me after their concert that day, and we talked for hours, even though we weren’t dating at that time. I never bothered to tell him what day my birthday was, so Min must’ve told him about it.

Last year, Seokjinie got his brother to reserve his entire restaurant for us to have a party. All the members came, of course, as did Seokjinie’s family. We ate so much food that night and just had a great time being together. A couple days after that, Seokjinie released a cover of the song “Autumn Outside the Post Office,” which was secretly dedicated to me. This year we were in Busan, preparing for their 5th muster. I wasn’t sure if I was going to go with them on this trip, but Seokjinie insisted to the staff that I come, especially since it was around my birthday.

Even with being out of our hometown, Seokjinie still managed to make my birthday a special one. After their rehearsal the night before my birthday, Seokjinie, with the help of some of the staffs, went out and bought all my favorite foods as takeout. The party started as soon as it was midnight. He set up all the food in his hotel room, including a giant cookie instead of a cake, since I like cookies much better. He also somehow got his hands on a karaoke machine, so we had been singing for probably a couple hours at this point, and the later it got, the more I found things to be funny.

“Either she’s had too much sugar, or she’s just sleep deprived!” Jimin said with a laugh, trying not to move too much, as Min had reached the point of sleep deprivation and was fast asleep with her head resting in her boyfriend's lap. Seokjinie stood up and noticed that Min had passed out, and that Yoongi and Jungkook were about to fall asleep as well. “Ok, maybe we should end the party before anyone else falls asleep!” he said with a laugh, kicking JK gently as he laid on the floor. “That’s a good idea,” I said, getting up from my seat on his bed.

“Happy birthday again, Mun!!!” each member greeted me with a hug on their way out. “Thank you for celebrating the first few hours of it with me!!” I said. Jimin was the last to leave, carrying my sleeping sister in his arms bridal- style. “Here’s our room key,” I said, slipping it into one of his hands so he could tuck my sister in her bed in our room. “Happy birthday, Mun!” he whispered before heading out of Seokjinie’s room so that there were only two of us remaining. As I turned to Seokjinie, I saw him holding a small, wrapped gift.

“Here’s your first gift,” he said, sitting down on the bed. I sat down next to him and took it, gently unwrapping it. I smiled widely when I saw the 5x5 canvas with our two avatars from Animal Crossing on it, sitting side-by-side on what I guessed was a bench, though it honestly just looked like a brown blob. The grass was also messily painted and the sun and clouds in the sky were crooked. The two characters, however, were painted perfectly and looked like they came right out of the game.

“Aww, look it’s us!!!” I said cutely as I continued to study the painting. “I wanted to paint the whole thing, but after I finished the background, I decided I at least wanted our characters to look good, so I got Jungkook-ah to paint them for me,” he said with a laugh, laying back on the bed with his head propped up on his elbow. “And wait… are these the outfits we wore when we played Animal Crossing for the first time together?” I suddenly realized, looking back at him. He nodded and gave a satisfied smile. “Ah, you remembered!! That was the start of our online gaming together,” he said, sitting back up and facing me.

“It’s perfect, Seokjinie, thank you so much,” I said, leaning over towards him. He met me halfway and kissed me gently, resting his hand on the back of my neck as he did so. “I love you, Mun-ah,” he said afterwards, shaking his head while he said it, as if he couldn’t believe his luck. “I love you too,” I replied before leaning in and giving him one more kiss, which was interrupted by my urge to yawn. “You need to go get some sleep,” Seokjinie said, standing up and pulling me up with him.

“I have a full schedule of things for us to do tomorrow… or today rather,” he added, looking down at his invisible watch. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, getting on my tippy toes and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Good night, Seokjinie! Thank you again for everything,” I said as I hugged him. He kissed my cheek and hugged me back. “Good night, my Mun,” he said sweetly before we both let go and parted ways. When I got back to my room, I was unsurprised to find Min fast asleep in our bed. I was already in my PJs, so I slipped into the bed beside her and turned off the light, falling asleep almost immediately.

He had told me that he would come by my hotel room the next morning at around 9, and then we would go out for breakfast. I was up before then, as was Min. I showered and put on a large pink shirt and overalls, completing my look with my usual pair of Converse. “You look cute!! What are you guys doing today?” Min asked me after I had gotten dressed. “I really have no idea… but I guess I’m going to find out!” I said, sitting down on the bed and checking my messages. “I can’t wait to hear all about it later!” she said, heading out the door, as she was going to meet Jimin for their own day out.

After a few minutes of reading and responding to birthday messages, I heard a knock on the door and opened it to find Seokjinie. He was dressed in a large pink shirt, skinny jeans, wire-framed glasses, and black converse, matching me like he had planned. The first thing I noticed though was his hair. It was styled back so that I could see his full face, but more importantly... IT WAS PURPLE. I grabbed his arm as I stared at him and pulled him into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Kim Seokjin!!!!” I said excitedly, putting my hands on his shoulders and forcing him to squat so we were at eye-level. I tilted his head at every angle as I studied his hair, smiling like an idiot the whole time. “When did you even have time to go to the hairdresser??” I asked, still so captivated by the sight of purple Seokjinie. He stood up straight and looked at himself in the mirror. “I dyed it myself last night… you can’t tell by how uneven it is?” he asked as he ruffled his hair slightly with his hands.

“No!! It literally looks so good, oh my goodness, I’m in love!!” I said with a laugh. He turned towards me with his dramatic “I’m so handsome” face as I continued to fangirl over him. He broke character when he saw how cute I was being and laughed. “Aish, Mun-ah! I’m so glad you like it! It’s your second gift,” he said. “Have the producers seen it yet??” I asked, knowing full-well that it was against the rules for the boys to cut or dye their own hair.

“They haven’t yet, but it’s not like they can fire me… the worst they can do is dye it a different color, but they will probably let me keep it since it looks so good,” he said, looking at his hair in the mirror again. “It really does though!” I agreed, hugging his waist from behind and peering around his wide shoulders so I could see him through the mirror. He smiled as he rotated himself in my arms so that he was now facing me, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking down at me. “Y’know, if they do let me keep it, the media is going to assume I dyed it purple for ARMY… just remember that I dyed it for you, since it’s your favorite color,” he said, reassuringly.

He began leaning down, as if to kiss me, but I teasingly stopped his lips with my hand, causing him to look at me with a small pout. I eased out of his arms and grabbed the polaroid camera he got me for Christmas. “I want to capture the purple Seokjinie while he’s still only mine,” I said. He made a cute pose, and I snapped the picture. As I looked at the undeveloped photo, Seokjinie pulled me back towards him, staring into my eyes with a surprisingly intense gaze. “I’m always only yours, Mun,” he said before getting the kiss that he wanted.

#kim seokjin #seokjin x oc #seokjinie #purple Seokjin #Jin #jin bts #jin cute #seokmun #ksj #bts ksj

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alexiessan · 4 years

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Never alone - Chapter Five - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Thank you everyone for your feedbacks!

It makes me really happy to see that you like this story and motivates me to write.

Which is why you get two chapters this week!

Getting to know each other turned out to be pretty easy. Not only did the soulmate magic made them be at ease for each other, but Marinette made it a game out of it. The first game was a classic twenty questions, where they each got twenty questions to ask each other.

Robin was grateful that his soulmate didn’t ask for any too personal questions. She asked him if he had siblings but didn’t ask how many nor for their name. She asked for his favorite color, his favorite meal, his favorite kind of music. She asked for his pass time and favorite TV shows.

For each question they asked, the other would also answer. And thus, he told her how much he loved animals, that he had a dog, a cat, and a cow, and he was a vegetarian ever since he adopted said cow. He told her that he loved to read and to draw, and promised to show her one of his drawings after she nicely asked.

Then, she turned the game into two truths and a lie. And this one made him smile as he had done some crazy things as Robin which made it hard for her to figure out which one was the lie.

Then again, he was also surprised by some of the things she had done.

There was more to Marinette than it first appeared.

They stayed on the roof until five in the morning, only stopping because the blue-eyed girl was starting to fall asleep mid-sentence. So he took her in his arms and took her back to the window of her hotel room where they promised in a whisper to meet at the same time that night.

After four hours of talking, Robin was satisfied as he felt like he knew Marinette better than some people he had known for longer.

That’s probably what happens when you actually put effort into knowing someone, he mused as he got home.

Right as he got out of his uniform and prepared himself to go to bed to catch at least an hour of sleep, he remembered that he had to do a little bit of research about his soulmate.

Not to stalk her or to know everything about her by checking her background. But the feeling that he had seen her before didn’t disappear at all that night, and he wouldn’t be at peace until he knew why.

So he went to the Batcave, empty at this hour of the night, or rather, this early in the morning. As he sat at the computer and typed Marinette’s full name, he discovered that there was already a file on her.

This meant that his family had made some research about her prior to their meeting.

Upon opening the file, he cursed himself for not connecting the dots.

Back when Hawkmoth started to terrorize the city of Paris and Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared to fight against him, Batman had Red Robin investigating the matter.

He wanted to know who was behind the masks of the heroes and the villain, especially since the duo of heroes seemed to be made of children.

While magic was involved in the matter, it didn’t mix well with technology, so Tim had tried to run a facial recognition for the heroes, hoping the magic wouldn’t work on technology.

Unfortunately, Hawkmoth was the kind of guy to act from the shadows and there wasn’t any picture of him anywhere on the internet.

It took a good week, as Paris had millions of people, but they eventually got a result.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was Ladybug and Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir.

Both were only thirteen when they first began their job as superheroes, and no adult was ever seen by their side.

It was also obvious that none of them had any training and were only trusting their instincts. Odds were that they were literally thrown into the superhero business without their consent and, most likely, without any proper explanation.

Damian remembered that he had rarely seen his father and his brothers so mad about something that didn’t have anything to do with the Joker. Batman had then called the Justice League of Europe himself, demanding to know why children were playing superheroes when it was their job, but was then asked nicely to mind his own business back in America and that Paris was not under Batman’s jurisdiction.

There was nothing they could do to help the two heroes, but they had been keeping tabs on the situation in Paris.

That explained why Marinette was not as awkward as she should have been with the “my soulmate has a secret identity” issue. She knew better than to ask personal questions since she herself had a secret identity to protect.

Damian sighed, massaging his temples. He didn’t want to keep too many secrets from Marinette. While he knew there were some things he wouldn’t talk about for some time — his childhood — and he wouldn’t reveal his identity before long, he still didn’t feel like keeping the fact that he knew her identity would be a good way to start any kind of relationship with her.

He would have to tell her when he’ll see her tonight.

Looking at the time on the computer, the youngest Wayne sighed.

So much for catching some sleep.

And he still had to have a conversation with his father.

Despite having only an hour of sleep that night, Marinette managed to wake up at six sharp, even before Alya.

Never before has she been in such a good mood after waking up so early and with only an hour of sleep.

It was a good thing that she got up before her friend too, as she had to figure out how to put contacts on.

“So, I get it that it went well last night?”

Marinette looked up from the little box of contacts, from which she was reading the instructions. She smiled at Tikki, who was looking at her with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, it went well. Sorry I didn’t take you with me.”

Tikki shrugged.

“It was probably better that way. He’s not a civilian, one small error from me and he would have you figured out.”

“We talked for hours. I was at peace with him, it felt like I knew him already and after we talked, it feels like I’ve known him way longer.”

The tiny god smiled.

“That’s part of the soulmate magic. You’ll always feel at ease with each other and the most time you spend together right after your meeting, the more you’ll feel like it. Do you know if your bond is a platonic or a romantic one?”

The designer winced as she poked her eye trying to put the contact on.

“That’s harder than it seems.” She tried once more before answering, “Well, I think Robin is very attractive.”

Which was exactly what told you if your bond is romantic or not. The bond didn’t make you instantly love your soulmate, no, those feelings would develop at your own pace, but instant attraction was the key to know whether a bond is platonic or not.

You’re attracted to your soulmate? The bond is romantic.

You’re not attracted to your soulmate? The bond is platonic.

It’s as simple as that.

“It’s a romantic one, then! I’m so happy for you Marinette!”

“Thank you, Tikki.” the designer smiled.

They were silent then, Tikki enjoying a cookie and the black-haired girl still trying to put the contact on.

It took approximately ten tries before she finally put it on, and just as Alya was knocking on the bathroom’s door.

“Are you almost done?”

The baker’s daughter opened the door with the brightest smile she couldn’t manage.

“It’s all yours!”

The journalist giggled.

“Well, aren’t you happy?”

“I’m always happy, Alya! Come on, now. Go take a shower and change, I can’t wait for today’s visit!”

When Damian came home from school that day, he went straight to bed to take a good nap before dinner. He had done his homework during the day so he could have the evening entirely free. If he wanted to announce to his family that he met his soulmate during dinner, it would be after he was well-rested.

No way was he dealing with that when he was half asleep.

It’s Titus who woke him up twenty minutes before dinner, barking behind his door, probably wanting to be let out outside.

He took the dog outside, playing with him and petting him for a while before Alfred came to tell him that dinner was ready.

After washing his hands, he joined his father and his brothers at the table, wondering how he should bring up the topic of meeting his soulmate.

Turned out, he didn’t have to worry as Dick brought it up himself.

“So, Damian, don’t you have something to share with the family?”

It was enough to silence them all.

Jason raised a brow.

“Something’s wrong, demon spawn?”

The green-eyed boy sighed, putting his fork down.

“Nothing’s wrong, Todd. It’s just…” he turned to look at his father. “I met my soulmate last night. As Robin.”

It was silent once again until Jason let out a low whistle.

“Damn, that’s news. Wonder how she is.”

“She’s such a cutie!” exclaimed Dick.

Bruce cleared his voice.

“I see. It’s a little problematic that you met her under your alias, but… Congratulations, Damian.”

“So that’s why you came back at five in the morning.” mused Tim.

“Come on, tell us about her little D.”

The youngest sighed. They would meet her eventually, so it was better to give them the information they were seeking.

“She’s a French student here on a trip for your Career Program, father.”

“She’s from the winning class that will be interning next week, then?”

Damian nodded.

“I’ve run a background check on each of them. Ladybug and Chat Noir are among them.”

Tim frowned. “Will Paris be alright with them away?”

“They must have a plan to keep Paris safe, they wouldn’t leave just like that.”

Damian took a deep breath.

“About that… My soulmate’s name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Dick’s, Tim’s and Bruce’s eyes visibly widened and Jason let out a snort.

“Figured your soulmate would be a hero.”

“At least, that means she’s understanding about your identity, right?” asked Dick.

The young heir nodded.

“I see. Will you tell her that you know about her identity?” asked his father.

“I will. If I want us to start on the right foot, it’s the best thing to do. She understands that I have to keep my identity a secret, but it’s another thing to know hers and to keep it a secret.”

Bruce nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“You’ve grown, Damian.”

Damian could feel his ears go red from his father’s praise.

“I know that you can’t keep your identity a secret from her forever but… I trust you to wait until you completely trust her before you do tell her, and telling us beforehand, as once she knows about you, it won’t be hard for her to figure out ours.”

“Of course, father.”

Dinner then went as usual, until they all stood up after finishing and his father came to him, giving him an unexpected and somewhat awkward hug.

“I’m happy for you.”

As he saw his brothers smile at him from behind his father, Damian thought that, maybe, from now on, he could talk a little more to his family.

One step at a time, though.

They agreed with his father that he wouldn’t be patrolling for the next two weeks so he could get to spend time with the tiny French girl for the duration of her trip.

It was the first time that Damian didn’t protest about sitting out of patrol.

Marinette was in Gotham for only two weeks, and he wanted to get to know her as much as possible during those two weeks.

So when he took her to the roof at one sharp after giving her his cape to hide her from sight, he told her that they could meet earlier if she wanted.

They agreed to meet at eleven from now on, as her roommate tended to fall asleep around ten, luckily for them.

Before they got in another conversation to learn more about each other, he had to bring up a delicate issue.

“I need to tell you something.”

Marinette smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but compare this smile to the sun.

“What is it?”

He winced before taking a deep breath.

“Back when Hawkmoth appeared in Paris, we couldn’t believe that the superheroes were just two children so we investigate a bit to help. The JLE rejected our offer though… Anyway, we did some facial recognition for Ladybug and Chat Noir and… Well, to put it simply, I know that you’re Ladybug, and I thought it would be better to tell you I knew than to keep this piece of information from you.”

The fashion designer stared at him, completely silent. He stayed silent too, giving her all the time she needed to process what he just told her.

“I see.”

He could see her having trouble breathing, on the verge of a panic attack.

He hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t need to worry, except for us, no one knows and we won’t tell anyone.”

Marinette took a few breaths before looking at him.

“Sorry. It’s the first time someone figured out my identity and I’m trying not to freak out. I’ve always been told how important it is that no one knows about me being Ladybug that I can’t help but panic.”

“Understandable. But, no one knows about you being Ladybug?”

The teenage girl shook her head no.

It made Robin mad. That girl had so many great responsibilities on her shoulder, and no adult to guide her or to vent to when it became too much.

“What kind of person just drop a miraculous to a child anyway?” he asked not too kindly.

Marinette flinched.

“The guardian… He just chose people that were the most compatible with the miraculous… And children are less likely to use the miraculous for evil so…”

“It doesn’t excuse anything. You were just a child without any guidance. You shouldn’t have the responsibility of Paris’ safety on your shoulders.”

The girl shrugged.

“There’s nothing we can do about that.”

“I could always introduce this guardian to my sword.”

“He’s not here anymore.”

As he was about to answer to that, mad that she was now completely alone except for her partner in all this business, she raised a hand.

“But let’s not talk about it. You know about me. That’s one secret I don’t have to keep and honestly, it’s like a weight off my shoulders, even if it’s not ideal that you know.”

She stopped to take a deep breath, now completely calm. She raised her head, looking at him in the eyes and giving him a shy smile.

“I won’t ask for your identity, don’t worry. We’ll cross that bridge when you’re ready, okay?”

He nodded, grateful that she didn’t ask for his identity in exchange for hers.

“Now, I remember you told me that you loved dogs. I have some very cute pictures to show you!”

Her smile was so bright and contagious that he couldn’t but smile a little too, as he got closer to her to watch her phone over her shoulder.

Tag list:

@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @mikantsume @dast218

#maribat #ml x dc #miraculous x dc #daminette #maridami #damian x marinette

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jacks-jester · 4 years

Text

My Love.

[Phoenix! Joker x Reader] angsty but ends with fluff

Words: 3,193

Warnings: Angsty, abandonment trauma, sexual harassment, mentions of murder, mentions of attempted sexual assault/rape. (This is a pretty heavy piece, nothing super explicit though)

Summary: After three years, you run into the man you had abandoned all those years ago. He was never the Joker to you though, to you he was always Arthur- your love, your one and only. What happens when he reunites with you for the first time post killing Murray? What happens when it seems the person you left has disappeared.

A/N~ This took me literally all day to type up, I kept revising it and fixing it up. I think I portrayed Arthur a bit better but still would like to work on him more, I feel I can do better in the future. Once again, Requests are open for fics/drabbles/hcs. Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

It had been three years since you had last spoken to Arthur, three years since you two had slept together, three years since you had left him. It was no secret that the two of you had your fair share of mental issues, but maybe that's what had balanced you two out so well. You both understood each other, truly saw one another, when either one of you had an episode or a fit, the other would know the perfect way to calm the situation down. However, there were downsides to Arthur and your relationship. The main issue though, was both of your shared insecurities. The two of you both thought you weren’t worthy of one another, though you would both combat each others thought constantly.

It was painful leaving him, but you had done it and the second it was done, you couldn’t find the guts to go back. You and Arthur had been neighbors for years, the two of you always sharing light conversations in the elevator, eventually the light conversation grew into a friendship, and soon after a relationship. You are Arthur had always been a match made in heaven, always being there for each other and ensuring the other was supported at all times. He was the only person you felt who truly saw you, and likewise to him - some things are just too good to last you always told yourself.

You had left shortly after your 2 year anniversary, after a night spent in each others arms, the two of you staying up until you were exhausted, relishing in the feeling of each others bodies. Arthur always had a habit of falling asleep after making love, always seeming most at ease in the moments afterwards. You figured it was due to the fact he felt content, secure, and cared for in those moments - his deepest insecurities buried away temporarily. It was that night as you stayed awake, fingers gently combing through his brown hair that you truly took him in. He was perfection in every sense of the words - his hair soft and fluffy to the touch, his cheeks hollowed out which only made his jaw and cheekbones that much more chiseled, he was skinny - to a point some might be scared of his form, but to you he was absolute artwork, every nook and cranny etched in your mind, his emerald eyes were always full of love and admiration when he looked at you no matter how difficult the day had been. Your favorite thing about him though was his carefree laugh, his real ones, not the kind the racked his body, his throat closing as the cackles were forced out due to discomfort.

In that moment your insecurities rang in your head on repeat, unable to tear your gaze from the man you loved so deeply. He was everything someone could ask for, and you had no doubt he was the only person out there for you, the only person who would ever understand you, the only person in the entirety of this wretched world that would love you unconditionally. He always had such a big heart, and you knew from the moment you had first seen him that he was the one for you. Deep in your subconscious though, your monsters whispered venom into your mind.

‘He’s too good for you. You could never give him what he deserve. He’s only settled for you, and now you’re holding him back from what he deserves. He could find someone so much better than you, you’re suffocating him from that opportunity. You’re not his one, even if you wish you could be.’

Your illness had won that night, tearing you away from your home, from happiness, from him. You didn’t spare a second glance as you packed a few of your personal belongings in one of his work duffel bags, pushing a decent amount of cash into the bag, left your key on the counter, and left with not so much as a note. You had taken the first bus out of town, trying your best to settle a life outside of Gotham, as far from him as possible. You never dated anyone else, unable to find attraction or comfort in anyone but him - always comparing the people you met to him. You found yourself worse off than when you left, but hoped he would find someone better for him. There were several times you had to force yourself to not run back - too ashamed of what he might think, even more scared you’d find him with a new life, despite the fact that it was what you had wanted in the first place.

Three years had passed, scrounging for money, trying to find work, attempting to find some remnants of the happiness you had felt before you’d left. By a sick twist of fate, you had found yourself back in Gotham - Gotham being the only place you could find decent work. A week. That's all it took for you to regret taking the job. You were working as a bank teller, your boss was an absolute pompous snob, your coworkers were perverted, and the customers were absolutely horrific. You bared with it though, knowing this was one of your last real opportunities for a steady job. The entirety of Gotham drained your energy completely when you lived here; so in an attempt to maintain some of your sanity and positivity, you avoided the news at all cost. In Gotham, the news brought nothing but negative things to dampen anyone's day.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It was another lousy day at work, dealing with customers who were idiots, dealing with groping and harassment from your coworkers, your boss seeming to constantly look for an excuse to fire you. You were nearing the end of your shift when it happened, protestors had moved up the city after being confronted with police aggression downtown. These weren’t the peaceful type though, these were the kind hell bent on causing as much chaos and damage as possible. A good part of you sided with them, understanding their outrage at the unfair treatment towards the less unfortunate of Gotham, towards the kind of people you and Arthur were. Even now, you had to forge documents to get your job, knowing any sign of mental illness would immediately erase any chance you had at securing a job.

You watched as people in clown masks flooded the streets as night began to fall, the glass doors of the bank allowing you a full view of the riots. Cars were set aflame, a few more confrontational protestors smashing the glass of the bank doors and windows, the city was screaming. The anguish and anger radiated off the mob like wildfire, their shouting echoing through the streets outside the bank. You knew it was only a matter of time until they would begin robbing the bank, hoarding the money they could secure. You opted to leave the second you shift ended, wanting to keep as far away from the damage as possible, just go home and sleep.

You secured a few of your belongings, tossing your bag over your shoulder as you headed out the backdoor, sparing a last glance at the building crowd. You let out a sigh as you began walking away from large white building, knowing it was fastest to take the back alleys to get to the buses. The alleys were smothered in fog and smoke, the moldy air clinging to your lungs with each breath your took in, you hated it here. You had nearly reached the end of the alleys when you were harshly grabbed by the arm, thrown against a wall soon afterwards. Your head buzzed as you tried to ground yourself, your eyes clenched shut as your pulse frenzied, anxiety quickly beginning to overtake you.

Upon opening your eyes, you were met with the figures of three men in clown masks, their statures towering over you. You knew this wasn’t going to end well for you, that was one thing Arthur had always worried about - there were too many stories of girls being found dead in alleyways after a mishap walking home. You watched them closely, the middle one of the three holding a knife out towards you, the blade less than a foot from your face. You could hear their deranged laughter, giddy at the sight of you so helpless as your eyes flicked around wildly, like a animal cornered by predators, aware of the fact you were prey. They were like hyenas, stalking the meat they so desperately craved, knowing nobody would bat an eye if you were to turn up dead the next morning, knowing they could easily get away with it with no repercussions in sight.

You let out a muffled scream as one of them clapped a hand over your mouth, the other two making their way towards you, hands already reaching out to strip you of your clothes. You pinched your eyes shut, preparing for what you knew was coming, knowing nobody was around to help, knowing you had nobody who would mourn you. While your eyes were clenched shut you couldn’t help but try to ground yourself from the onslaught of panic, trying to think of happy things - though only one thing came to mind. Arthur. Not a day had gone by that you didn’t miss his company, longed to hear his laugh and feel his arms around you, wished for the way he’d look at you, actually seeing you with unprecedented love and admiration. Artie.

While your cries were muffled and salty tears poured down your face, you and your attackers had failed to notice a presence approaching the four of you. You jolted as three gunshots rang out, the bangs resonating off the narrow alley walls. Your ears rang due to the close proximity of the gunfire, the touch you had been dreading never coming, instead you could hear bodies falling to the ground with sickening thuds, the hand over your mouth immediately releasing as another thud sounded from beside you. You didn’t dare open your eyes as tears continued to pour down your cheeks, streamlines running down your paled face.

You jumped lightly as the new intruder gently kicked your foot in order to get you to look at them, upon opening your eyes you were greeted with a white handkerchief. You had yet to look at your protector, grabbing the handkerchief with a choked out thank you. While drying your tears, you were greeted with the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, coming from the person directly in front of you. He wasn’t what you’d pictured he’d look like. He had emerald green hair, a crimson suit which comfortably hugged his body, a green nearly teal button up, and a mustard vest. He stood comfortably, one hand tucked in his pants pocket while the other held a cigarette between his lips, the pale alley light casting an ethereal glow around him.

After a moment of looking away, he turned to face you, a hand going out to help you up. He didn’t say anything in that moment, simply beckoning for you to stand. Due to the dim lighting and the fact your were shrouded in darkness, you were surprised he had hit his targets and not accidentally hit you. You doubted he could see who you were in the darkness, you hand shakily grabbed his as you made your way to stand in front of him. You released his hand the moment you were up, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear as you tried to compose yourself. “Thank you.” You were frozen the moment you looked up to thank him, your eyes meeting his own.

There's no way this could be real, you could feel rushed panic closing up your throat, your airways denying you air as the realization of who was standing in front of you hit you. You could see the glimmer of recognition cross his eyes, though his face as a whole remained unphased. You always could read him, even if he remained stoic. “A-Arthur?” You could see his eyes shift slightly as if he had something to say but swallowed it, “Go catch your bus.” He murmured it loud enough for you to hear before turning on his heel to leave you behind in the alleyway, the same way you did to him all those years ago - without a second glance.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you rushed forward to grab his wrist, “W-wait! Please. I just... I need...” He stopped walking, not turning to face you as his body tensed under your touch. You let out a small hum, your mind reeling as you attempted to find the words you so desperately wanted to say. You needed to know that he was happy, that's all you needed to move on with your life. “I-... Please just tell me you’re alright. That you’re happy, that you’ve found someone deserving of you.” A dry laugh escaped his lips at your words. “Everything is absolutely peachy. Haven’t you seen it? The cities burning and I’m a high class criminal.” His sarcasm rang through the air, your eyes bubbling with tears at the familiar feeling of his skin on yours. You lowered your head downwards as emotions and anxiety coursed through your veins, overtaking your mind. “I’m so, so sorry Artie.”

You could feel him tense at the use of the nickname, his tendons bulging in his wrist, his fist subconsciously clenching in response. You could feel the sick feeling of bile rising in your stomach as an onslaught of words poured out of your mouth all at once. “I didn’t want to hurt you, you deserve everything this world has to offer and I couldn’t and can’t offer you that. You need someone who isn't a wreck, someone with a solid job, a nice place, someone who is deserving of your love. That person isn’t me, even if I’d like it to be. I thought it would be best if I just disappeared, gave you the freedom to find the happiness and life you deserve.”

You were surprised when he whipped around his own chin shaking with emotion, although your weren’t sure if it was sadness, anger, resentment, maybe a combination of the three. His voice came out low at first, gradually raising in volume as his emotions climbed. “You don’t get to be sorry. I’d be happy if it weren’t for what you did, none of this would have happened.” Deep inside him, Arthur knew it wasn’t true but he couldn’t help it as confusing rage bubbled inside him. Never in the 2 years of being with Arthur, did you ever see him angry, he never raised his voice, and even when he was upset he put on a happy face for your sake, never wanting to worry you or hurt you unintentionally.

You could feel yourself breaking down at his words, the tone of his voice successfully slicing through you like the stroke of a hot knife on butter. “I thought I was helping you by cutting you off. I’m not worth your time or affections, I never have been. You deserve so much more than what I can give you Arthur. Believe me when I say I love you more than life itself Arthur but I couldn’t be the one who held you back from finding someone who deserves you.” You looked up to him, his eyes catching yours as you both remained silent, the tension between you two thick enough to cut through. You couldn’t say you were surprised when his hand gently shook you off, retreating to his side. You watched closely as his green eyes met yours, and for the first time you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, several emotions flicking across his gaze faster than you could register.

You watched as he raised his hand slowly towards you, his hand hesitating before landing on your cheek. It was strange, you’d seen the photos of this man standing before you, heard small talk of the “Joker”, he had a terrifying reputation among the elite you were surrounded by at the bank. Yet still, this was your Arthur. Sure his appearance changed, he was more bold, but just the way his eyes shone showed that he was in fact the same man you remembered. He still held the soft gaze you were so familiar with, even in his upset state. You didn’t blame him, you could only imagine what your reaction would be if the roles were reversed. You’d be heartbroken, unsure what to do with your life - though you supposed you were heartbroken when you left and didn’t know what you were doing with your life even in the present.

His touch was enough to calm the onslaught of tears that rushed down your face, relaxing as you thought about the care he maintained as his thumb gently brushed away the spare tears. “Is that really why you left?” His eyes bore into you, searching desperately for an answer as his uncertainty came through in his tone. You furrowed your eyebrows as his eyes stayed in contact with yours, confusion flashing through your eyes. “Of course it is, why else would I leave? You were the only positive thing I had going for me, I wouldn’t mindlessly throw something so precious to me to the side.” You watched as the ghost of a smile quirked at the edges of his lips, forming the small smile you’d seen so many times while watching Murray with him late at night.

Without another word his face came down to meet yours, his hand gripping your jaw tightly as his lips melded against yours. Instinctually your eyes closed, your hands coming to rest against his lean chest as he pulled you closer to him. His scent flooded your senses, the smell of cigarettes, cheap cologne, clothing detergent, and a new foreign smell, the faintest scent of gunpowder lingered on his clothing. His lips were perfectly suited to yours as the kissed deepened, this new Arthur being bolder than the one you’d left behind, his tonguing sipping into your mouth as he spread his red greasepaint across you lips.

You pulled away only to catch your breath, your hands not leaving his chest as he opened his eyes slowly, the green of his eyes gleaming in the dim alley lighting. “ Artie I can’t, you have to under-” He cut you off, pressing his finger to your lips. “That's is for me to decide doll, I need you beside me, not anyone else. You are my one and only, if you want me to be happy, then come home.” You looked up at him with confliction in your eyes but you knew your mind was made up the moment you caught a glimpse of Arthur and his adoration for you within his emerald pools. So you spoke 3 simple words, your heart swelling as you took in the beautiful man before you, the man you’d missed for three years, your love and happiness.

“Okay my love.”

#arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #the joker x reader #joker x reader #joaquin phoenix #phoenix!joker #Phoenix! joker x reader #phoenix joker #phoenix joker x reader #joker 2019

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its-ya-boi-autumn · 4 years

Text

I literally only have 2 things for Feitan and they’re both smut so I’m changing it up and this is not gonna be a smut because regular Feitan content is quality content. It’s darker and maybe even a little more yandere than what I usually write but this is actually what I’m better at writing so oop-

Warning: mention of suicide

The clash of metal startled you awake. Gasping and covered in sweat, you bolted up straight in the rather small cot of the room you were given, nearly hitting your head against the ceiling. All you could see was darkness, though you felt an odd familiarity about your surroundings. You blinked several times in an attempt to adjust your vision to the black around you. It worked slightly, allowing you to notice some key items that you had recognized from home.

It was then that you remembered where you were.

His torture chamber was right down the hall, you knew that much. You had only known because he had told you, and you had heard the screams before. Once you had thought someone had come to save you, but he had brought that person down to cripple them terribly. For what, he provided no answers for.

You also knew there was no way out of this room. You had tried countless times to escape. Clawing at the locks, the metal door, screaming for him, begging for him to let you out. It had proved futile. He didn’t even mock your attempts anymore. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence either. You had become background noise with no purpose.

Boiled eggs and salt had been breakfast, lunch, and dinner for an endless amount of days. At least he allowed you a little flavor with the bland white and thick yolks. You had grown sick of them, though you knew it would be asinine of you to not eat what you were given. You were being treated like an animal, but for what reason? You didn’t know the answer to that either, and he never gave you one. You barely remembered your kidnapping. Simply a cloth over your mouth and strong arms wrapping around your body, holding you tight against their chest so you couldn’t move much. There was no scent, only a sweet taste in your mouth as you tried to cry out for help, and then everything fell dark.

When you woke up, you were brought here, in this dark, cramped room with a few trinkets from your house placed orderly against the concrete wall. Nothing too special, just a book you’d read over a hundred times, a stuffed doll from childhood, your mother’s silver necklace, and a tennis ball you’d played with when you were bored at home. You’d woken with no clothes, only your undergarments, and no cell phone either.

You hugged your knees close to your chest, letting your chin rest on the tops of them. You were still tired, but you knew if you slept, you’d just wake up again and it would still be the same. Your skin had paled and your body deteriorated to something fragile and weak. There was nothing in the room to even harm yourself with, so there was no chance of even suicide being an option. A sigh reverberated through your chest, signaling boredom.

You dared to move, the loud creak of the wooden cot protesting despite your weight not holding onto much. You couldn’t stand in the room at all, barely able to sit up all the way in the cot, so you crawled over to what little things the man provided you with. You’d hoped he hadn’t heard you moving around on the wet, concrete floor. Your knees naturally folded under you as your hands reached for the silver neckline.

A minor memory of your mother giving you the necklace as a birthday gift played in the back of your mind, faded and muffled. You’d only been trapped down here for what you assumed to be a few months, but it felt like years. You didn’t have the courage to ask the man how much time had actually passed. Even if you had, you were almost sure he wouldn’t answer you. He never answered any of your questions anyway.

You dangled the necklace above your hand, slowly spilling it down and watching the delicate chain pool in your palm. The cool feeling made you smile. It was something. Something that gave you hope that you’d be able to get out. You had absolutely no idea how you’d manage to escape, but you had some hope that you could. That you would.

Another clang made you gasp out loud, quickly clasping your hand over your mouth. You set the necklace back onto the ground and crawled to the very back of the tiny space, pressing your frail spine against the concrete. Silence. Nothing came after that. No footsteps. No voices. No screams. Nothing. Nonetheless, it worried you more than anything.

You felt the sudden twinge of anxiety creep along your legs and worm it’s way into your stomach, squirming and writhing and making you unbearably nauseous. Vomit retched past your lips and you threw up behind yourself, not able to help it. Why were you so nervous all of a sudden? What was going on? Your head started to spin and you turned to face the door.

The source of your anxiety stood firm in the doorway, staring down at you with amusement in his eyes.

“Sick again are we?” his broken accent sounded eerily calm. Another round of bile rose in your throat, though you held it back, forcing yourself to swallow with every muscle in your body. How did you not hear the door? It was made of solid steel, there was no way he could have opened it without a sound. Your confusion must have shown on your face, for he snickered behind the black scarf that covered his mouth, his eyes smiling too.

“We’ll have to fix that. Don’t want you dying just yet, hmm?” he entered the room fully, shutting the door behind him nearly all the way. Your breath hitched. He didn’t lock it. There was a chance. It was slim, but it was still a chance you could take. You averted your gaze from the door back up to him. Those worms of apprehension continued to wriggle around your internals up to your throat again. The man kneeled down in front of you, something in his hand. His eyes also glanced down at the object, then back up at you.

“It’s nothing special. Not for you.” he noted your eyes on the object, clutching it tighter. Whatever it was, it was for you. Or at least it belonged to you. You gulped, not saying anything in response.

“I’ve decided to be nice today. Would you like to come out for a little while?” wisps in words rolled off his tongue like clouds in the sky. You felt your jaw open, which he quickly closed with a push of his hand against your jaw, gripping tightly onto the poor thing. He waited for your answer, though impatiently. You tried to nod despite the iron grip on your jawline. He smiled again and let go. However, your freedom didn’t last long.

His fingers interlaced with your hair, yanking hard on the weak roots to force you forward. You could only manage a whimper in response, your voice completely lost due to the lack of use for days on end. You flailed forward with him for some sort of relief or ease from the tugging on your sensitive scalp. Tears welled in your eyes, burning your corneas and setting fire to any thought of resisting. Your skin scraped painfully against the flooring and a trail of blood started to follow under you. He flipped you over onto your back and threw you down, your head bouncing off the ground. Your vision faded in and out, another wave of nausea coursing through your stomach.

“Get up.” the curt command barely registered in your mind. He gave you no time to react, scoffing and making a grab at your throat. He flipped you over onto your stomach. This time your chest taking the blow and nearly winding you.

“I said get up.” his voice still sounded calm, though a wink of annoyance hinted itself at the edge. You tried to follow the words but couldn’t seem to. Your palms pressed into the ground, any dust or dirt biting painfully into your skin. Pushing yourself up, you folded your knees under you to sit up and your arms fell limp at your sides, your knuckles smacking harshly against the ground. A pleased hum voiced itself from the man.

“Good enough.” he strolled past you, placing whatever had been in his hand before back into his pocket. You still had no idea what he had ahold of that could have belonged to you, but you had a bad feeling about it nonetheless. Your body felt woozy, everything in front of you swaying and twisting around. You swallowed bile for the third time that day and tried to keep your focus on him. You weren’t sure of what he wanted now. He let you out. Why?

Your legs started to go numb from sitting the way you were, but you couldn’t muster the energy to move out of the position. You were so tired. A deep breath resounded in you, trying to calm the anxiety some more.

“Are you hungry?” the sudden offer made you gawp at him, quickly closing your mouth before you threw up again. You were starving, but with how sickly you felt, you didn’t know what you should answer. You let yourself nod. His eyes smiled down at you again before moving to leave the room. You stayed on the floor. The urge to follow him tugged at your numbed legs, but you knew better. This was the first time he’d let you out and you didn’t want him to throw you back in that damned room just yet.

A sticky substance wet your hand. Your brows furrowed as you pulled your hand up to your face to see. Blood. Your blood. You turned your body around to see the trail you’d left. Your fingertips tapped your thigh again, watching thick blood string from your thigh to your finger. It was oddly pleasing to see your own blood. Something from your body that was yours. Something you could hold onto.

A few minutes more passed by and the sound of footsteps caught your attention, bringing you back down to reality. The man came back with a bowl of some sort. Steam swirled around the rim, spilling over to your nose. You inhaled and smelled something familiar. Some sort of vegetable?

“You can sit at the table if you like.” he set the bowl down on the surface above you. It was then that you noticed to wooden table above your head. You blinked a few times before pressing your forearms to the chair to pull yourself up. After some great difficulty, you managed to sit down in the rather creaky chair. For a few seconds you were afraid it would collapse underneath you. The man sat across from you, leaning onto the table, not taking his eyes off of you.

You took this as your indication to start eating. You moved to grab for the spoon he left on the table. Your hands were trembling so much you nearly couldn’t grab the thing. The metal utensil felt foreign in your shaky grip. You scooped out some of the broth. Unsure, you glanced up at the man.

“I did not do anything to it. It’s safe for you to eat.” he chuckled after the sentence. You didn’t smile, though you wanted to. Instead, you spooned the broth into your mouth. Your senses flooded into overdrive. The warmth soothed your dry tongue, hints of carrot and celery and potato striving to be recognized in the taste. You covered your mouth and set the spoon down. Your eyes hurt as they watered. You whimpered when no words would come to say how grateful you had been for this. The man’s eyes widened.

“Is something the matter? Do you not like it?” edge was in his voice. You panicked, afraid he’d take it away. Your hand flailed over your chest frantically, fanning your throat.

“I do... I just-” you voice was completely wiped out, squeaking out whatever it could manage. His features softened at your minimal reply. Should you continue? Should you thank him? Would he take that badly? You decided to say nothing and instead take another bite, letting the feeling slide around on your tongue. You felt his eyes on you, burning into you as he watched you eat. Like he was waiting for something. He said he hadn’t tampered with the meal, however, something sank in your gut a little. Setting the spoon down to signal you were finished, you pushed it away from you. It was only half eaten, and you wanted more, but something told you to stop.

He raised an eyebrow at you, his head now resting on his hand. Your eyes met his, trying to signal that you were done. He stood up and took the bowl from in front of you.

“I’m surprised, thought you’d eat more than that.” he made the comment with his back turned to you as he made way out of the room. You searched around for something now. Strength had returned to your body enough to feel less sickly and you felt like you could actually move. However, you dared not to leave the chair in case he came back sooner than you would have expected. The room he currently occupied must have been a kitchen of some sort, something to make food in. Something with knives and forks. Sharp objects that could be used to hurt someone. Then there was the torture chamber that most likely held the devices used to also hurt others.

The chamber could be seen in front of you now, a gaping hole in the wall showing a dark room only lit by a hanging bulb in the center. A hospital gurney covered in blood stood tall directly underneath the bulb, dripping loudly into the blood pool beneath it. Any weapons or devices must have been on the far wall to your left or your right considering you couldn’t see anything but the bed and the light bulb.

The man came back, sitting across from you again and blocking your view of the room.

“Do you like it out here?” he leaned on the table again, creaking lightly. The question was a hard one to answer. One you couldn’t really answer yes or no to. If you answered no, he’d likely throw you back into that tiny crawl space without hesitation. If you said yes, he might still do the same thing, just out of spite. There was no right answer.

“Yes.” you let a glimmer of hope slip into your mind, hoping he wouldn’t force you to stay in the concrete block again. His expression didn’t change. Instead, he stood again, placing his hands in his pockets and walking toward you slowly. Your brain swirled, your head shaking before you could even register the motion.

“No please I don’t want-” you pushed away from the table, falling out of the chair onto the ground. Your limbs desperately tried to scramble, trying to get away from him, but he had ahold of your throat again before you could even move. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, digging your nails into his skin, your eyes pleading, begging him to let you go. It hurt. You could feel his blood seep under your fingernails. He pulled you up to your feet, standing you up and then releasing your neck. Your legs felt wobbly and your body fell forward, crashing against his chest and shoulder while you choked out over him. One of your hands went to your throat to soothe the deep purple marks already forming.

“Fine then, I’ll let you stay out.” he mumbled in your ear while you continued to cough up, blood dotting the ground behind him. He tsk-ed at your weakness, setting you down onto the chair again so you wouldn’t have to lean on him anymore. You curled into yourself, shaking violently against the back of the chair. You shut your eyes, trying to block out everything. The feeling of his hand lingered on your throat, so tight it was like you still couldn’t breathe.

Soft fabric spilled onto your bare thighs. Your eyes fluttered open, the blurry image of the cloak he wore spread over your legs. You turned your head up to look at him. He was shirtless, nothing but some baggy grey pants on him now. His face held a look of pure irritation while he dusted off his pants. His arms crossed over his chest.

“Put that on, we’ll see how well you behave.” he turned his back to you again, opening the door to what you assumed to be the kitchen room and left you there, thoughts simmering in the back of your mind to find a way out.

#feitan #hxh #my work #feitan portor #abusve #yandere feitan

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