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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 3 years ago

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part i, autonomy in your coherence | c.g

With something like time that runs round with the world — ignoring it’s inhabitants and stealing things that you’d hidden away for safekeeping — you’ve taken up the hobby of art, furiously sketching faces that are six-feet under.

The skill is beautiful and horrific all the same, watching like a person with amnesia as the portraits begin to lose their depth, the freshness, the personality that came free with who you’d chosen to print on the page.

You’ve forgotten your feelings for Carl, because he didn’t feel the same.

You just wished you did a better job at it.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, suicide ideation

this is a continuation of watch you burn away and i recommend you read that, first! this is also part of a series, so here is the masterlist if you need it!

(cross-posted on ao3!)

Your father once told you he had a patient that died from heartbreak.

“Your heart can’t really break, though, right?” You’d said. A doctor for a father and a laboratory technician for a mother made you more than aware of things, seeing through the myths and pretty white lies of figures like Santa and the tooth fairy.

(They had gone through with it anyway, because although their child knew, it was a gateway to normality in such a busy home.)

Your father scratched his chin, unsure how to respond. “My patient had died from a broken heart, though the process wasn’t as simple as it’s term name. A broken heart — the nonliteral meaning — can be the cause and the domino toppling to many things that could lead to death.”

“Like what?” You’d said with little admission into the conversation, having been flicking through a novel you’d picked up a while back (which featured a one eyed pirate and his partner who’d ended up dying in the end — not that you knew, yet, at least.)

“I don’t know, er,” Your father swirled his coffee lightly, gesturing wildly with his free hand, “Mental health issues, for one. Erratic actions, depression, a lost sense of self. Obsession.”

“Huh,” You muttered, looking up at your father for the first time. “A lost sense of self? Really?”

“What is your father teaching you?” Your mother said, stepping into the kitchen with a questioning expression. The conversation ended there, without so much as a thought after.

You wish you pried your father for further answers. What you’d give to get the workaholic of a man to dump his duo psychology medical major thoughts unto you with little care.

The knowledge would be gold in your time of need, when pulling and pushing distance further between you was like venturing through a field of thorns.

(Perhaps you just missed your parents. But that couldn’t be it, right? They’d died and you had lived, their blood on your hands and the gun in your fingers, their glazed over eyes and your own that nearly matched, cold and willing without a drop of emotion.)

But you’d gotten through it for him— without him. Without anyone, quietly harboring scratches and bleeding from the field with little effort.

If someone asked, you would tell them with full and honest confidence that you harboured no more attachments. You were a naive teenager, running through your feet and over yourself for something that was just a crush.

Crushes are — in their whole singularity and purpose — temporary.

They are brief, and momentarily something that causes ripples and waves in your thoughts, just the slightest mention or faint sight makes you detour down a road of sickly sweet dreams and fantasies.

He was first love (like? You didn’t love him, no, it was a crush and it was something for the unattainable and the inappropriate — in which with full truth, he was.) so you poured the honey glazed remembrances and rose coloured lenses over your memories, because he was a first love, and you know that those were cracks in the heart, growing vines and constricting the part that was him — the part that’d always, always be there, without a doubt.

(However much you didn’t want it to be.)

The leaves and the venomous flowers that sprout in decaying grooves come with age, and you are older now.

You bear fresh scars that litter your entire being and wear newly buried bones of people who were once not just that, the dirt still sitting in the crevices of your nails, and you seem to forget their voices with each passing day.

More and more, the faces look like reference art rather than a taken from life picture, which was all telling them to sit still and watching their eyes crinkle at the edges when you show them the result, voices echoing and asking if they could have it.

Everyday, as it has become a peevish habit like biting your nails or obsessively reminding yourself your stove is off, you draw pictures of everyone.

If you are close enough with them, you ask the subject to sit and model for you, analyzing every breath and laugh they take when you crack a joke or engage them in meaningless conversation just to see how the light hits their brows when they raise, the shadows pooling in their aging lines.

Everyday, you wish and hope and even fucking pray that their portraits continue to be something of anxious routine, rather than trying to dump their image out of your head and onto paper so you can see their faces one more time.

His image seems to change with each moment he sits in for you, once a face with two piercing blues, then a patch and eyes that looked at the dusty wooden floor, and later, someone who looks at you straight, something that told you he was a survivor, who bore his battles proudly, the scar on the right of his face sitting ruggedly and bewitchingly.

You draw him, exactly the way you see him, and when you show him the picture, he laughs, and says “You made me look too pretty,” and you shake your head, “It’s exactly the way I see you.”

You do her, too, upon request. When she sits, you draw her almost like it was professional, drawing the curvature of her face with exact precision, intense shading, marking the features she holds. The dip in her nose, the straight of her hair.

(You often forget who you’re drawing in these moments, and when you step away from the canvas you’re hit with whiplash. It’s subconscious, the way you do these things to please him, wanting to see so clearly how his face spreads delicately with delight.)

It takes a little while for you to convince Ron. When you first propose the drawing, he gives you a confused face, before walking off to do shooting practice. He’s gotten better with the gun over the years, and doesn’t respond when you tell him you know why.

(His mother didn’t come out of it alive, and his brother didn’t come back without harm. The younger boy was alive, but would grow up with only his brother by his side and one less limb to account for.)

The second time, he makes a snide comment, albeit with no bite, about how ‘you must be a horrible artist, to ask me of all people to model for you.’

The third time, you’ve dragged him to the small office you makeshifted for the drawings in the garage. He studies every slit of paper you’ve ripped out of your book, the unfinished sketches or yet-to-be painted canvases piling up against the walls. Complete works sit proudly on your wall, displayed for the world to see.

His hands hover over the paints sitting on your desk, charcoal, dirt, sticks, paintbrushes, handmade dyes, wallpaper cut-outs.

“Why?” Ron says curiously.

“‘Why?’ what?” You echo, fiddling with a fork you grabbed from the kitchen, splaying out a thick lather combination of beet dye and cement onto your finger to check the consistency.

“Why do you draw these portraits? I get the others because,” He says, leaving the words “because they’re dead” hanging in the air between you two in mutual and regretful acknowledgement, “But you draw these everyday. You drag Carl and Enid off, or just sit on the benches and draw Maggie and Glenn knee-deep in the dirt.”

You sigh a dreadful breath, wiping the rest of the beet-cement mix onto the page with the pad of your fore-finger. “We’ll forget them one day.”

He looks at you, unblinking. The dead, the gone, and the soon to be long forgotten only existed in your memories, in your words, and when the time came that the world had moved on and stopped, they would cease. Their whole memory relied on the living, nothing about them able to reach and grasp life on their own. Memory was all that was left, and it was all you could do to wash away regret.

“And the rest?”

You bite your tongue hesitantly, your movements rigid, “You see their portraits. Everyday they get less and less coherent. When — when time comes , these drawings will be the only thing getting me by.” You whispered.

The ball had dropped. Coping and grief in it’s big and ugly form, preying on your conscious hungrily, taking shelter in your largest worries. Claws sunken in your flesh, the monster was a thing that felt like it would never go away, because it would loom right alongside death itself, watching and waiting for the moment they’d deemed someones time to have been enough.

(It would never be enough. Enough meant they’d pop in from next door and ask to borrow something, enough meant they’d swipe dirt across your face to make you angry — enough meant they would come in everyday and sit for their portrait once more.)

A creaking on the floorboard caught your attention, eyes watching as Ron’s feet walk to the corner of the room, before hopping onto the wooden seat with little effort.

“I’m not going. I never will. But — do it anyway. I’d… like to see how I look on paper.” He said cheekily, picking up a thin pencil off your desk and handing it out to you.

So you did. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes snowballed into hours in the dim lighting of the garage, asking the blond to turn his body, stretch his head and make different expressions, fulfilling and destroying the little worm of worry sitting in your head.

When you’re done with the charcoal, turning it around for Ron to see and to inspect, he asks, “What about you?”

“And what about me?” You say. His questions never make sense without further discussion, but the boy always has to wait for you to pry and ask him to elaborate.

“You don’t have any drawings of yourself. You’re the artist, the photographer, the one who makes these things that will stay longer than the memories and the words — so what about you?”

It’s rare that Ron delves into his emotions and the things he really means, but when he does, it’s something that stays, for a long while.

“I,” You didn’t have an answer for it. You weren’t one to do a self-portrait, it not being the same as having someone to sit and take from. “I don’t want to.” You finished simply, an ice cold realization coming to reality in you.

“Why?” He says the same words as before, but the words hold a heavy weight.

“I don’t know.”

You knew.

Maybe one day, you’d wished that you’d wash away like seafoam on the beach. You wouldn’t leave a single portrait behind of you, and the memories and the words were left mum behind his lips, because you knew how he got in a loss.

Quiet and unfeeling, it was so selfish of you that you’d counted on how he got in that state to leave you behind, neglecting you like the fruits of your memories you’d never get to bear.

Ron’s gaze bore into you like he knew exactly what you were thinking, telepathically taking in every thought you’d conveyed at your dispense.

“You should.” Is all he says, before stepping off the wooden stool and out the door.

What was wrong with you? You feel so… entirely foolish. Obsolete. Embarrassing.

You walked past the remnants of those who were gone everyday, obsessively creating canvas over canvas of them and the only thing you could think was that you’d wish to position yourself beside them?

This world was catching up to you, and fast, but you’d just have to run faster than it could.

#twd #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #chandler riggs #angst #the walking dead #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead carl #carl grimes x you

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blissful-independence · 3 years ago

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Party of Six {Zetaflash BartxEd}

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

A/N: Happy Zetaflash week! This is from my series on Ao3 called Every Reality that I'm building. Hope you all enjoy this!

WARNINGS: none but I hope ya like a slow burn

Central City

July 29, 19:04 CDT

Soft music played on the speakers of a small radio in Bart's bedroom to combat the quietness. The window was opened just ajar to let in the warm summer air of Missouri, where Bart sat beside the wooden desk created by Conner Kent. Brand new drawing pencils were spread across the surface as Bart scrunched his eyebrows in an intense concentration at his sketchpad. Something Bart learned about himself was the hidden talent of drawing after spending many days bored.

Today's drawing assignment consisted of brainstorming a new Kid Flash suit for himself with new gadgets and designs. Bart knew Wally would want him to customize Kid Flash into his own style once taking on the mantle. It only stung a little now that a month had passed. Apart from the drawing supplies, Bart's laptop was turned on beside him, waiting for something to happen. Finally, the echo of dings snapped Bart's attention away from his work, pushing it aside to center the laptop for the joint video call named Runaway Camp. When Jaime, Asami, Tye, and Virgil appeared on screen, Bart didn't necessarily react until Ed turned on his camera, causing him to smile. Ed waved at everyone with a happy smile on his lips.

“¿Qué pasa, amigos?” Said Ed.

"Hello everyone!" happily answered Asami with Tye beside her.

"Glad to see everyone was able to join our little meeting," said Jaime with a mischievous smile.

"Your text made it sound urgent even though Bart and I just saw you yesterday at training," muttered Virgil, leaning against his hand.

"Yeah, what gives, Jaime?" asked Bart.

"I have gathered us here to cordially invite you all to Tye's 17th birthday sleepover weekend at my house the 5th of August!"

Bart scrunched his eyebrows with a confused smile, spying the faces of the Runaways. Both Virgil and Ed seemed as excited as Jaime about the invitation to El Paso, causing Bart to hide his confusion from the teens. In Asami and Tye's camera window, Asami kissed Tye on the cheek, making the birthday boy blush.

"How could you not tell us it was almost your birthday, Tye?!" excitedly asked Virgil.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we were busy being menaces in Taos then decided to help save the world. We didn't have enough time to bond at the safehouse," Tye sarcastically smiled. Virgil gave Tye a particular finger that caused everyone to chuckle.

"Wait, so, we'd be in El Paso for the whole weekend from Friday to Sunday. How the hell did you two convince your parents to allow that?" asked Ed.

"I'm still riding that sympathy wave with my mom." smirked Tye.

"My parents love Tye and our house is huge enough to host the six of us all weekend. It'll be a full house."

Ed shrugged in delight. "Fair enough. What's the plan?"

"Be at my house around 6. My mom wants to make dinner at 7, so we can do whatever we want at night…." Bart turned everyone out as they all continued to make plans for that weekend. He was too busy questioning how and why he'd be an idea to a Runaway gathering. There was still somewhat of a disconnect between everyone for it to be considered a friendship. In Bart's eyes, he was only friends with Jaime and Ed even though Virgil was now on the team. The time Bart spent visiting the Runaways at the STARs lab was only far between before the Reach invasion turmoil.

"Uhm, I have a question," said Bart, "You're inviting me to your birthday, Tye?" Tye's smirk dropped to raise eyebrows in surprise, looking at Asami and then to Bart's window.

"Of course, dude, you're cool and we are friends. It makes sense to invite you."

"O-oh yeah, totally! The whole thing sounds crash. I just wanted to make sure," said Bart, pressing his lips together. Bart's eyes darted to Ed on the screen, who seemed focused on someone in particular.

"Besides, we haven't all been together in a good while, so I thought my birthday would be a great excuse to hang out."

"Awe, Tye loves us!" teased Virgil, causing Tye to roll his eyes. "Count me in. I could use a little weekend vacation."

"Me too. My dad thinks I need to be social now that I'm bored in Taos and waiting for school to start," said Ed.

"Well that's five of us. What about you, Bart?" asked Jaime.

"I'll have to ask the great-grandparents, but I'll let you guys know." Bart smiled stiffly at the screen. The conversation continued between everyone from Jaime's home address in El Paso to arguing with Tye about birthday presents. Bart would add his two cents every now and then to not worry any of the teens if he were silent. Oblivious to Bart; however, Ed kept a close eye on him for the entire video call. Everything was planned for next Friday with ideas of what to do and the kind of cake to have.

Before Bart had to say another thing skillfully, his name was called from downstairs as a saving grace to end the conversation. Bart said his goodbyes and darted downstairs to the kitchen, happy to smell the homemade marinara sauce in the air. Joan and Jay fixed the final preparations for dinner by plating the pasta and pouring the drinks. Bart did his job of setting the table in the dining room at average speed for once.

"How was training yesterday, Bart?" asked Jay before taking a bite of spaghetti.

Bart nodded as he swallowed a portion of food. "It was pretty crash! I had no idea Artemis was such a great instructor."

"If I remember correctly, she's studying to be a professor in English. She definitely has the heart for it," said Joan.

"I can see her doing that. Although I will admit, it is pretty weird not having Dick around at the Watchtower."

"The boy needs a break to process everything that's happened in the last month. I don't blame him one bit from stepping away from the hero job," said Jay.

"He might not want to come but we should invite him to dinner next Sunday. Dick is still family in this household," suggested Joan. Bart straightened his shoulders as he wiped away a bit of sauce on his lips and glanced at Joan and Jay. It was a simple question that every teenager had the chance to do with their friends. But for an unknown reason to Bart, he was too nervous to ask for permission.

"That's a good idea, Joan. I'm sure it'll help Richard know we're always here for him," replied Jay.

"Uhm, speaking of next weekend, I was wondering if it would be cool with you two if I can go to El Paso for the weekend?" asked Bart. Joan and Jay looked at each other with curious smiles and paused from their meals.

"And with whom would you be spending the weekend with?" asked Jay.

“Jaime, Virgil, Ed, Tye, and Asami. It's Tye's birthday on Friday, and Jaime's going to throw a sleepover party at his house."

"When will you be back?" asked Joan.

"Sunday and I promise I'll be home early for family dinner!" reassured Bart. Joan chuckled with kindness to Bart and laid a hand over his own.

"Don't worry, of course you can spend the weekend with your friends, Bart. I think it'll be good for you. Right, Jay?"

"I completely agree with you. Just make sure you let Barry know in case he wants to patrol over the weekend," Jay reminded Bart as the older couple resumed their dinner. Bart smiled at his plate once the arduous task of asking permission was over. One step closer to Tye's birthday weekend.

***

A sudden ring echoed throughout Bart's dimly lit room once again while Bart returned to his sketchbook for the evening. Bart glanced at the open laptop beside him to read an incoming call from Eduardo Dorado on a video call. Hesitantly, Bart accepted the ring with the device on his side to allow him to continue working. Ed appeared again as the New Mexico sun began to set with a glow into his room. Bart smiled at his friends as Ed smiled back with ease and a raised eyebrow.

"Well, how do you do?" asked Bart, leaning against his fist.

"I'm doing good. What about you?" Bart shrugged and continued to color in the details of the new Kid Flash suit. "Alright that's enough small talk for the both of us. Why were you acting weird during the video call?"

"I wasn't acting weird! I was just busy doing a little art project and thinking about that."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. See." Bart grabbed the sketchbook to show Ed through the camera, "Busy."

"Wow. You're pretty great at drawing. Never knew that," complimented Ed with a smile. A soft warmth spread on Bart's cheeks, averting his eyes away from the screen.

"Thanks," mumbled Bart. "Was I really acting weird during the video call?"

"Not to everyone else, but to me, yes. What's up? You don't want to go to El Paso?"

Bart huffed. "It's not that. I know it'll be fun and I already got the okay from Joan and Jay. It just caught me off guard that Tye wanted me to go. That's all."

"You did get to know us when we were in a shitty situation out of the goodness of your heart. I think that would qualify you to be invited to a birthday party, Bart." reassured Ed.

"It sounds like a petty invite to me," Bart glared at Ed as he continued to color, "Maybe Jaime told Tye to invite me so I wouldn't feel left out."

"I doubt that's the case."

"I'm allowed to speculate. I've never done these kinds of things."

"What do you mean?"

"The whole sleepover thing and parties. I've never gotten to do something like this as if I was normal," explained Bart.

Ed pursed his lips in thought as he studied the deep scowl on Bart's face. A simple apology wasn't going to fix everything between Bart and him. Ed understood that. He and the Runaways were angry at everyone and everything a few short months ago. A few short months ago, Bart tried to be a good person to four teens who wanted to punch everyone in the face, specifically Ed. It was now Ed and Tye's turn to be good people as they navigated their new lives.

"How about this, Bart, if you're nervous about going, maybe we could go together," suggested Ed, biting the nail of his index finger in a nervous tick. A smile formed on Bart's lips no matter how hard he tried to restrain it, and he met Ed's eyes on the screen.

"Go together?" Bart raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. You meet me at the STARS Lab and we'll zeta to El Paso together instead of having to speed from Central alone. Sounds good to you?" Ed asked again with a timid smile.

Bart repeatedly nodded with the same smile. "Sounds like a perfect plan to me."

Taos

August 05, 18:15 MDT

Ed couldn't stop shaking his leg from nerves. In fact, Ed couldn't stop feeling the nerves run through him as today inched closer. The nervousness began yesterday night when Ed started to pack his duffle bag for the weekend. Bart had texted Ed that evening to reassure their plans and what time to arrive in Taos. Clammy hands and a rapid pulse would come and go as the day progressed until becoming permanent once Ed entered his father's office to wait for Bart. It was unbeknownst to Ed as to why he was nervous about a simple sleepover. Essentially, he lived with the Runaways for several months, and this would be a reunion for them. Maybe it was because Jaime was hosting the event even though Ed liked Jaime once getting to know him. That only left one person in the mix, and Ed wasn't about to ask those questions, especially when waiting for his arrival. So, Ed would rather listen to his father lecture on and on about manners.

"Remember to be appreciative towards Mr. and Mrs. Reyes when you enter their home, Eduardo," said Eduardo Sr.

"Si, papa."

"And don't waste all the money I gave you on junk food in case you all go to the mall."

"Okay, papa," nodded Ed, slumping further into the office chair.

"And what time are you supposed to be home?" Eduardo Sr. said to test his son.

"3 o' clock."

"Good. Now do you know if Bartholomew is already on his way?"

Ed chuckled at the sound of Bart's full name. "Papa, you can call him Bart. He texted me a while ago so he should be running in here any minute."

"He's really that fast huh?" chuckled Eduardo Sr. "It's nice to see you two getting along after everything that's happened. I was worried for a moment."

Ed scrunched his eyebrows together. "Worried about what?"

"That your friendship with Bartholomew had completely vanished," said Eduardo Sr with a sympathetic smile. Ed averted his gaze from his father and leaned against his knees to stop the shaking from his leg. "He's a good kid, mijo."

"Yeah I know," mumbled Ed.

By the grace of the gods, a repeated knock arrived at Eduardo Sr.'s door, making Ed jump from his seat in a hurry. Once Ed opened the door, he and Bart both lit up in excitement from seeing each other. The last time the two were together was in a moment of mourning when Bart needed Ed the most. It was a breath of fresh warm summer air to be in the place for something fun.

"I hope I'm not late for the zeta train to El Paso," joked Bart, fixing the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder. Ed shook his head, walking back to the office chair to grab his belongings for the weekend. "Hi, Dr. Dorado, it's nice to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, Bartholomew. Let me walk you two to the zeta tube," said Eduardo Sr., fixing his lab coat once standing and placing a hand behind his son. As the three walked down the hall, Bart noticed Ed holding a different colored skateboard than the previous golden yellow one.

"You really do take that thing everywhere you go," said Bart, grabbing the board from Ed to analyze the solid dark red.

"Tye told me we were going to the skate park later tonight since we all ride boards."

"I don't."

"Have you ever even ridden a skateboard?" asked Ed with an 'annoyed' glare.

Bart shook his head and smiled as he passed the board back. "Why should I? I can just speed my way anywhere I want to be rather than ride something," said Bart, walking into STARS lab's zeta tube area. Ed only rolled his eyes amusingly with a scoff while the two waited for Eduardo Sr. to punch in the closet zeta tube coordinates to Jaime's house. Finally, Ed and Eduardo Sr. said their goodbyes as well did Bart. Then off they went to Texas.

El Paso

August 05, 18:25 MDT

Bark knocked on the heavy door of the hacienda-style home. Ed stared at the house in awe of its beauty; his eyes gazed at the decorative stones from the archway. The home appeared to be two stories with a short balcony in the front of the house. When Ed heard the door unlock, he straightened his shoulders and looked straight ahead, seeing a short girl open the door. Her face lit up when she saw Bart and ran towards him with open arms to hug him. Bart chuckled with the younger girl, wrapping an arm around her.

"Hey, Milagro, it's been a while!" exclaimed Bart. Milagro pulled away and looked at Ed with a raised eyebrow and curious smile. Ed waved at the younger girl timidly.

"You must be Eduardo," said Milagro.

"It's just Ed. It's nice to meet you, Milagro. You must be Jaime's little sister." Milagro kept curious as she narrowed her eyes at Ed and then to Bart.

“Yo no sabía que Bart tenía otro amigo además de Jaime.” Ed chuckled.

“Y yo no pensaba que la hermana de Jaime hablara mal de los amigos de Jaime. Especialmente en frente de ellos.” Ed raised his eyebrows, smirking at Milagro while she chuckled.

"I like you. Come on, the others are already here," said Milagro, ignoring Bart's confused face as she led the boys further into the house.

"What did you two say?" asked Bart.

"Don't worry about it," smiled Ed, seeing the photos hanging on the walls of the Reyes Family. Bart and Ed's stomachs growled in hunger once the smell of food hit their noses as they followed Milagro into the kitchen.

"Mama, papa, Bart's here with Eduardo." A short, dark-haired woman turned away from the stove, wiping her hands on a bright turquoise apron with a bright smile for Bart and Ed. Beside her stood a man as tall as Jaime, who had a dark goatee like Eduardo Sr. and followed his wife to the boys.

"Hola Bart! It's been so long!" exclaimed Mrs. Reyes, kissing Bart on the cheek with a hug and then turning to Ed. "Welcome, Eduardo. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Hello, Sr y Sra Reyes. Thank you for welcoming me into your home for the weekend," Ed politely said. Mr. Reyes chuckled at Ed's polite manners and patted him on the shoulder.

"Of course, Eduardo. Any friend of Jaime's is welcomed in our home. The kids are in the living room setting up the mattresses," said Mr. Reyes.

"Dinner should be ready in an hour," added Mrs. Reyes.

"Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes!" said Bart, tugging Ed by the sleeve, leaving the Reyes family in the kitchen. The boys followed the sound of chatter and entered the open space, catching sight of the living room turned into sleeping quarters. Four queen-sized air mattresses were spread out on the stone floor in a square against the sofas with vacant space in the middle.

"Finally, we're all here," said Jaime, fist-bumping Bart, and Ed to welcome them.

"Hello!" glimmered Asami, hugging the boys, who returned the hug happily.

"Happy birthday, hermano." said Ed, dropping his and Bart's bag with the others and bumping fists with Tye.

"Thanks, man. Good to have all of us together again," said Tye, bumping fists with Bart from the sofa.

"Happy birthday! I know you said no presents but it's a little something," said Bart, passing Tye a medium reflective sticker of an orange smoke figure similar to his long shadow. Tye smiled at the sticker and then at Bart.

"Where'd you get this, dude?" asked Tye, Sam peeking over his shoulder.

"I made it. I got bored and learned how to make stickers at home." Bart shrugged with a carefree smile.

"Damn I didn't know you could draw. I'll put it on my skateboard before we head out tonight," said Tye, showing Virgil and Jaime the sticker. Bart and Ed sat beside each other on the vacant loveseat as they made themselves at home.

"Did you guys come together?" asked Virgil, spread out on one of the mattresses. Bart and Ed glanced at each other to look for an answer.

"Yeah, Bart offered since I've never been to El Paso. He didn't want me getting lost," said Ed, patting Bart on the shoulder, smiling at everyone with Bart only nodding. No one bothered to question further and resumed their conversation about which movie to watch, from Jaime's horror suggestion to Virgil's comedy.

"Since I'm the birthday boy, I get to decide which means Virgil, try not to cry," teased Tye, grabbing the copy of Sinister from the tv stand to play it in the DVD player. Jaime snickered as he turned off the lights and closed the curtains to immerse the living room into darkness. Virgil groaned in fear, grabbing a throw pillow to hide behind as he sat beside Jaime on the sofa. Sam moved between Tye's legs on one of the air mattresses, cuddled with blankets.

"Do you like scary movies?" asked Ed.

"I've never seen one, but I doubt a fake movie can scare me," boasted Bart with a cocky smile. Ed chuckled as they relaxed on the loveseat together, their shoulders leaning against each other. Neither of them bothered to move, sinking further into each other's side once the movie progressed. Bart only had to move less than an inch to rest his head on Ed's shoulder, but he had some restraint. It wasn't until a loud jumpscare of the movie's creature popping on-screen did Bart grab onto Ed's arm, hiding his face in the other's shoulder. Ed also jumped from the scare, but his reflexes wanted to protect Bart, shielding him with his arm. Jaime's laugh snapped Bart and Ed back to reality, the boys darting away and adding space from each other once their eyes met so close together. Ed kept his eyes glued to the tv, as did Bart, both afraid to glance at the other. If the living room wasn't almost pitch black, Bart and Ed could see the blush that spread on their cheeks, but of course, that would be their secret.

***

The Runaway's laughter echoed into the summer night at the skatepark, riding with Jaime while Bart watched from the top of the bowl ramp. Virgil was the first to use his static powers to levitate his board which then influenced Ed to teleport off before every trick. Jaime, Tye, and Sam rode usually compared to the two boys by skating off railings and flipping their boards. Bart leaned back and enjoyed the show, shouting applause every time Ed nailed a trick. Ed then teleported beside Bart, out of breath from the multiple somersaults.

"You know you're really good at this. Maybe down the line you should do circus acts with your skateboard," complimented Bart. Ed chuckled with a sweet smile.

"Do you want to try to ride? Once you get the hang of balancing it's pretty easy," offered Ed.

"I told you, why would I ride something if my powers already feel like a ride?"

"Because you don't always have to use your powers in life. Sometimes it's okay to be slow." Ed elbowed Bart on his side, chuckling again as Bart squirmed. Bart pursed his lips before huffing a sigh of defeat, standing on his feet and stretching a hand for Ed, annoyed. Ed smiled mischievously as he took Bart's hand back on his feet, dropping the board between them. Bart knew how to balance on objects from training, but it was not his strong suit. One foot on board, Bart flew backward, falling right into a pair of arms with a short yelp. Ed laughed gleefully as he helped Bart stand up straight again and pulled the board back between them. Bart wasn't a quitter. He carefully got back on the board and stood perfectly still. Unfortunately, Bart was a creature of habit as he pushed his foot to move the board, unknowingly using his powers and falling once again into Ed's arms with solid force. Bart groaned, pushing himself away from Ed with an annoyed pout.

"Tranquilo, amigo. Let me help you," offered Ed, "Is it okay if I hold your hands?" Bart felt his brain buffer with a pulse of electricity dashing between his ears that caused him to stay quiet for a second too long. Finally, Bart snapped out of the haze before nodding. "Cool. Your balance was good, but it's better to start off with a little push to keep that balance." Ed softly grasped Bart's hand as the younger boy stepped on the board again, grabbing his other hand once both feet were balanced. Bart didn't know if his eyes should be looking at the board or Ed's hands holding his. Ed carefully tugged Bart around the board in a circle, concentrating on the board alone to not let Bart fall for the third time.

"Try to push off with your foot without using your powers, and I'll let go of one hand." In total concentration, Bart listened to Ed's teachings of pushing with his right foot and letting his left arm keep balance. Slowly, Ed let go of Bart's other hand but stayed beside him as Bart managed to ride a longer distance. Then, with confidence, Bart pushed the board one more time, cautiously turning back to Ed and circling around him.

"Bart's finally riding like us!" shouted Tye from the bottom of the bowl.

"See! You did it!" exclaimed Ed, high-fiving Bart.

"Okay, now I get why all of you guys ride these things." Bart smiled and pushed himself further, slowly extending his hand for balance with Ed trailing behind him. But, as Bart tried again, his foot skipped against the concrete, causing him to lose balance until Ed tightly clasped their hands together.

"You'll just need a little more practice," smiled Ed, tangling his fingers around Bart's, catching Bart with the same exact smile. Bart stayed on the board longer than anticipated until almost falling into the bowl ramp with Jaime and Virgil. Thankfully, Ed still held Bart's hand to pull him back, holding the board with his foot to let Bart off. When Ed looked down at their hands still held together, he quickly let go before Bart could notice. Pink spread through his cheek once sitting on the ground with Bart, but Ed tried to rub the warmth away. Asami and Tye skated on one board together, himself behind her with arms around her waist, carelessly riding. It wasn't until Asami yawned did Tye stop the board from getting off and kissed her on the cheek.

"I think we should call it a night. It's getting pretty late," said Tye, wrapping an arm around Asami's shoulders and bringing her into his side. Jaime and Virgil climbed out of the bowl ramp, sitting beside Bart and Ed as they two caught wind of Asami's yawn.

"We still haven't talked about the mattress situation. Who's sharing with who?" asked Jaime.

"Tye and I share one," said Asami, hugging Tye as he blushed. Ed's palms began to feel clammy, glancing between Jaime, Virgil, and Bart. In all honesty, Ed wasn't the closest with Jaime and Virgil, believing it could be awkward to share a mattress together. The only person Ed felt entirely comfortable with was Bart, but he still preserved some reservations. He swallowed away any nerves and straightened his shoulders.

"Bart and I can share an air mattress," said Ed, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "If that's okay with you, Bart?" A flutter appeared in Bart's stomach while his heart skipped a beat.

"Totally cool me, amigo." Bart's smile was to become permanent for the remainder of the evening.

"Well that settles it! Let's go home before I take a nap out here," said Virgil, rising to his feet again with everyone following his lead towards the park's archway. "Hey, whose birthday is coming up? Mine's in October."

"Asami's birthday passed while we were in STARs," said Tye.

"Same, mine was in May. Wasn't your birthday in March, Bart?" asked Jaime.

"Yep! Which just leaves us to one last person. Eduardo? When's your birthday?" Eduardo rolled his eyes with a tired smile.

"September 3rd." Ed admitted.

"Heck yeah! Sleepover at Ed's house next month!" shouted Bart, giggling

"Hell no. My apartment is too small to have all of us sleeping there!" Ed said to Bart, stabbing a finger to his chest.

"Fine. Fine. I'll plan you a birthday party then," said Bart, elbowing Ed in the ribs. Ed shook his head with a yawn, wandering behind everyone through the suburb, glancing at Bart.

"Hey," whispered Ed, "Enjoying your first sleepover?" Bart nodded, his smile softening from exhaustion.

"Thanks for understanding about… me being nervous." uttered Bart.

"No se preocupe. That's what friends are for." Ed squeezed Bart's shoulder in comfort.

Ed hid their smile for the remainder of the walk and maintained a gap between him and Bart. In the back of Ed's mind, a little voice returned that he hadn't heard since being in Argentina. No, since Ed had run away from STARs after Bart begged him to stay. He glanced at Bart as the voice continued to nag and felt his breath hitch in his chest, making Ed move one step away. Ed did what he would always do when the voice came back by suppressing it for as long as he could. It could be any other day when Ed had to face that voice, but tonight wasn't the moment. Tonight, Ed was with his friends, who didn't need to know about the little voice that made him nervous. No one needed to know about the voice that wanted to change Ed because even Ed didn't want to know.

#zetaflash #zetaflashweek2022 #bart allen #eduardo dorado jr #Young Justice #yj outsiders #HBO Max

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purplecandygerl · 4 years ago

Text

Fear

— Levi x Reader

— angst, fluff, mention of death, cursing

— summary: Levi never let his fear get in a way of his decision yet for this moment he did

— word count: 2.8k

It’s that time of the month once again, when Squad Leaders were given a tremendous quantity of paperwork to be finish in an unfair amount of time, Levi is unexcluded to this time but even worse for his part. A list of cadets where handed to him early on.

The list consist of mostly from the 104th cadets and his eyes soften at the familiar name included on the list. (Y/n) (L/n). All your efforts and hardship within the past month has finally paid off, he knew about your unspoken goal of wanting to be part of his squad long time ago. He couldn’t be much prouder of you ever since, considering you to his squad would definitely increase his time with you, he can already see himself having you by his side.

Content with list of candidate given to him, he decided to set it aside as he move on to another paperworks, his calloused hand reaches to the papers near him. The thick cursive heading made his breath hitched

Certification of Death

It felt like a hard slap to him as memories of the recent expedition flash before him as he passed through the forest seeing nothing, but the bloody corpses of his members brutally killed by the Female titan as tried to protect Eren till the end.

Worries began to fill him, he couldn’t bear to see you in those situation, this is the only thing that matters to his life and one wrong situation can slip you out of his grasp in a matter of seconds, yet he couldn’t afford any distraction in the moment of the expedition as the lives of the soldiers lies on his own hands, reaching for the list of candidates once again before crossing your name before stacking another paper above the list.

“Levi?” the sound of his name being called out as the door of his office shut close, revealing his (h/c) haired lover “not done yet?” he shook his head, “I see” he notice the lethargic tone you release as you sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face at the crook of his neck indulging on his scent. He lean onto his chair caressing the tresses of your (h/c) hair. “Did something happened?” he questioned, which you shake your head

“It’s nothing, I just want to ease your stress somehow” those words never failed to cause his heart to leap in adoration, he always thought there will be times that you would finally leave him seeing that he always lack of showing his affection to you, yet one year after \here you are showering him with affection at first, he would stiffen at the unpredicted kisses you place on his cheek during your private time until it become something that enlightens his sour mood daily.

Placing a kiss in your forehead, he wishes for you to forgive him for what he was planning to do. He could take all your anger at him if it meant to keep you alive by his side.

༺═──────────────═༻

The final members of Levi’s Squad was finally announced, the rush excitement you felt were shattered to piece as the roll out of names ended without getting your name called, the combination of anger, frustration and disappointment were enough to put you on the edge, clenching onto your fist as you tried to fight off the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Are you alright (Y/n)?” you heard your friend worriedly asked as you both head back inside the castle, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine” you immediately answered. “You should head first, I’ll catch up”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you” bidding a goodbye before heading to a certain office for explanation.

“Captain” you called out from the outside of his office, giving his permission for you to enter.

“Why?” The first word that left your lips were the conclusion of messed up emotion you were trying to endure. You knew that he knows what you were talking about, you know that he would be the person who gets to decide on the final list of the members.

“There are more suitable soldiers fitted in my squad”

“So, I’m not suitable for your squad. Is that it?” you hissed, how could he say that when he knew how much you work hard to be part of his squad

“Yes” you stared at him in disbelief as your whole body began to tremble holding yourself opening your lips only painful laughter were able to leave your dry throat, which surprised the man in front you.

“Fuck you, if that was the case you shouldn’t have gotten my hopes since the beginning, you shouldn’t have fucking care if I work myself up if that was the FUCKING CASE, WERE YOU LAUGHING JUST LIKE THEM WHEN SAW WATCH ME FUCKING STRUGGLES FOR NOTHING” you snapped out

“FUCK OFF, (Y/N) ISN’T THE ONLY REASON YOU WANTED TO JOIN WAS TOO HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO FUCKIN LAZED YOURSELF AROUND ME” He spat off, his mind was screaming at him to tell the truth already yet anything that left on his mouth is nothing truthful. He was spouting to stand for his decision. For a second, he tried to reason himself it was for you own good, it really is. Until his gaze returned back to you. He watched how tears drenched down your cheeks for the first time in his life he saw you cried. He could only stand on his feet frozen as you tried to brush off the tears blurring your vision.

“it was never about that case, I--” biting your inner lips, there’s no use for you tell him everything what’s the point of everything at this point, giving up. You only turned your back at him before shutting the door close.

As the sound of the door clicking shut was the only time he realized he fucked everything up, he wanted to follow you back yet he remained frozen on his feet, the silence on his office only left your voice echoing in his mind, every word you left a stabbing guilt and regrets on him. Was everything really necessary? For the sake of keeping you alive he had to hurt you in the process.

“were you laughing just like them” clenching his fist, how his way of showing his affection were seen in a different, only then he realized someone was thinking so lowly of your effort yet it only returned back to him knowing you think he was just like them.

A knock on his door, snaps him back to his thoughts. “What?” he didn’t bothered hiding his irritation to the soldier disturbing him “S-sir, Commander Erwin called you to his office sir”

“What do you mean my squad would be on standby? I thought we would be leading for the clearing up tomorrow?” Erwin sighed, it turns out only two squads would be leaving tomorrow to examine the behaviour of the titans before clearing up the titan near the wall.

“I see, then who’s squad would you be sending instead?” he asked, taking a sip on his tea, surprisingly glad he had a free time which he would dedicated on asking for your forgiveness.

“(L/n) William’s Squad”

༺═──────────────═༻

It was supposed to be a clear up for the remaining titans roaming across the abandoned city, only expecting atleast twenty or less titans left, yet when you encounter a horde of abnormal titans gathered in the deeper corner of the city, you knew this can be the last of something. Right now, the titan’s attention were averted from you with the quantity they had you wouldn’t be able to take them all with the lack of gas and blade, if you fire the flare gun to sign the soldiers around you, the titan’s attention would directly be place to you which would lead to the first option. Lastly, if you tried to escape you will most likely lead them to the other soldiers.

Not only your choices are limited but everything is too risky for you and the other members.

“Fuck this shit” firing your flare gun instead of pointing the gun at the sky, you fire the flare at the titans instead before releasing your hook leading back to where your squadmates are, in the center of the city you found a familiar figure the vibrant red covering him.

“William!” You shouted turning his gaze his eyes widen as you fired your hook on the concrete walls in attempt to carry him “Wait no! AT YOUR BACK” he tried to warn, before you can process his warning a giant palm slaps your body like a fly.

the impact of being thrown inside of a building breaking the window in the process, a static rings across your ears as every part of your body is throbbing in pain, opening your eyes only to feel a burning pain with a blurry eyesight reminding you much of the arguments yesterday, recalling back the words you let out that time. Maybe, maybe they were right,

“Just this last time, let me see them” you speak to yourself, trying to stand up every movement you make felt like you were being electrified in pain, stabbing your blade on the ground using it as foundation for your footing. Feeling the ground continuous shaking, losing balance, hitting the concrete floor hard, a sharp pain once again pierce through you, causing you to whimper in unbeknownst to you a sharp wood stab through your abdomen, leaving you crumbling in pain on the ground the sight of shards of glass soaked a puddle of blood. was the only thing you have seen before blacking out

I was never suitable to be here in the first place.

༺═──────────────═༻

Levi anxiously waited on his seat, no matter how much he tried to focus on the meeting between regiments he found himself drifting back to your situation, despite already reminding a soldier to immediately call him when your group arrived, yet several hours have passed and the meeting is already reaching its conclusion.

“Captain!! They’re here” A soldier barged inside the office, disregarding Erwin calling him out he wasted no time to leave the meeting,

“They’re at the Medical Bay for now.” the soldier reported,

“How are they?” he noticed the grim look on the soldier confirming his fear all at once

“one of the squad were completely leaving only one soldier in critical condition” dismissing the soldier he immediately head to the medical bay, every step he make felt heavy as if the world had collapse at his grasp. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Levi” a familiar voice called out, hanji was waiting in front of the medical bay door, “Is she?” the jumbled emotion he’s feeling couldn’t continue the question he needed answers for, luckily Hanji quickly understand his struggles

“It turns out that there were more titan than what was initially reported, their squad had to face a horde of abnormal titans as we split up. We only found her inside of a building after a flare was shot. She was thrown by a titan trying to save her brother, a large wood pierce through her abdomen at the same time she already lose too much blood, the moment we found her” Hanji saw the grim expression from Levi, as he quietly listen the events that had happen, the fear, guilt, and regrets shown directly to his metallic irises. For once, Hanji saw a vulnerable side of Levi, a man so close losing a part of him leaving him once again alone.

A few hour has passed, when the door has finally opened as a doctor step out of the room, looking around the doctor only find him alone waiting.

“Captain Levi, are you perhaps the relative for Miss (L/n) (Y/n)?”

“Yes” leading him inside the medical bay, his eyes quivered at the sight of your figure wrapped in white pristine bandage up until your neck and another to covering your eyes. your pale like skin made it you look like “the progress of the surgery were slightly complicated due to the loss of blood but overall, the surgery was a success” Levi felt a relief wash over him, hearing how his lover is still alive felt like a heavy burden were lifted from his shoulder,

“at least that’s the good news, but the condition of her eyes had receive a different outcome”

“What do you mean?”

“Not only her abdomen where severely injured but also her eyes, shards of glass were able to damage her pupil that may became a permanent blindness, overall she needs to stay bedridden in three weeks before we can discharge her” the doctor explained, Levi remained stiff on his feet, his mind tried to comprehend the information given to him, blind? You wouldn’t be able to see anything from now on? You wouldn’t be able to see him?

Sitting beside your bed, his hand grasp to your bandage covered hand, entwining his fingers to yours, the coldness of your hands gave discomfort to his, it felt like he was holding onto a lifeless body the coldness of your body felt uncanny it might be because he was used to having your warm hands to his cold calloused hand. Pressing a kiss to your knuckle seeing the pattern of your chest rising and falling, was the only thing he need for now. Your alive that’s all that matters to him.

༺═──────────────═༻

Despite how much he doesn’t want to leave by your side yet with the constant nag from Erwin, it’s the third week you’ve remained unconscious, your temperature had increases in the spam of time yet it still frustrated him seeing no sign of waking up. He wanted nothing more but to hear your voice again. Placing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers his goodbye.

That was several hours ago, the sound of someone screaming from the top of their lungs had reached from the hallway he was in, either way he continue onto his path back to medical bay reaching closer the screams become clearer.

“IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU HE WOULD HAVE BEEN ALIVE” the woman angrily yelled out, nurses already had their hands around her preventing the woman from getting closer

“MISS PLEASE STOP SHE’S STILL RECOVERING” one of the nurses begged at the woman “NO LET ME GO” she demanded wanting to remove the grasp around her, she was able to pull you out of your bed earlier leaving you on the floor. Her hand was able to reach to your hair tugging it off roughly pulling you to her.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO US IN THE FIRST PLACE YOU WOULDN’T BE LEFT LIKE THAT?!”

“what do you think you’re doing?” Levi intervened slapping the woman’s wrist away sending a glare at the older woman while holding you at his arm protectively, the people The bandage on your eyes has already been removed, showing those eyes he long for were finally wide and awake.

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! I’M HER MOTHER I KNOW WHAT’S THE BEST FOR HER”

“I don’t care, your daughter is already adult enough to know what’s best for herself. you two” he called out the two-soldier passing by.

“guide the guardian her way out of the castle” obeying the captain’s order, the two already hand their hand to the exit, waiting for the woman to follow looking back at the two of you, clicking her tongue in irritation before following the soldiers.

After your mother left, his attention immediately turned to you carrying you at his arms placing you back to your bed, no words were exchanged during that time. Hugging your knees, leaning your head at the top. He wanted to say something, anything yet he couldn’t bring himself to left words out afraid he might hurt you once again.

“Let’s end this here, Levi”

Levi’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?” He mumbled, afraid his voice might cracked any moment.

“There’s no point on continuing this”

“How?” your hand clutches on the white blanket covering your lower half, holding back the tears from building on your cloudy eyes.

“CANT YOU SEE?! I LOST MY EYESIGHT I’M ALREADY USELESS AT THIS POINT” snapping at him, the frustration you’ve been feeling since the moment you woke up and being informed by your condition finally took its last trigger and burst.

“I’m sorry” feeling his warm calloused hand at yours “I thought removing you from the list would keep you safer than the circumstance we had. I’m scared (y/n), I cannot bear to see you the same position that my old squad had that time, you’re an amazing soldier. I never mean what I said before”

“It doesn’t matter now, I can’t be a soldier anymore” removing his grasp from you

“Please just leave”

#levi ackerman #captain levi #anime #aot levi #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi aot #levi x reader #aot x you #levi x you #female reader #x reader #reader insert

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bakugohoex · 4 years ago

Note

uwu hcs for jean and eren with a s/o who’s bold in giving affection but gets easily flustered when they’re the one receiving it 😗

“now whose the flustered one”

paring: eren yeager x female reader, jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: implies nsfw, kissing, heavy flirting, fluff

word count: 2400+

a/n: sorry for the lack of content, but i hope you guys like this, im trying to get through all the requests before i go on hiatus but hope you like it any comments will really benefit, also i didnt read it properly but its a headcanon sort of, idk sorry im tired

summary: in which giving affection to the boys always leaves them swooning but as soon as they do it to you, you become an entire mess in front of them

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

eren yeager

You had known Eren since day one of the cadet corps, both meeting one night out on the barracks. You had seen him around whilst in the cadet corps, but you talked to Sasha and Connie a lot more than you did him and his two friends who always seemed to follow him around.

But the one encounter late at night had bloomed a friendship where you both became closer than anybody realised. Now two years later, on the brink of graduating and joining the survey corps you and Eren were partnered up to spa with the boy, the consistent teasing and flirting for two years flowing out from your mouth.

“Aww is Eren not able to beat a girl.” You mock going in for a punch, he dodges but cocks his head backwards in a laugh.

Looking at your much shorter frame, he goes in for a punch himself, “I’m capable of beating anyone Y/n, that includes you.”

You’re the one to laugh this time, arching your back to miss the swing of his fists, “maybe you’re going easy because you like me, it’s fine a cute boy like you, I might let you win.”

He blushes but tries to hide it with his fists raised, “like you, I could never.” The back and forth continuous on, everybody in their own worlds except Armin and Mikasa, the latter being annoyed at how you hit him.

“Come on Eren, aren’t you going to try harder.” You tease before you feel him grab your arm and flipping you to the ground, he stood on top of you his feet planted beside your waist.

An idea popped into your head as you quickly grab his arm dragging him down on top of you, you heard Mikasa shout his name but you both ignored it. His body on top of yours, you smirk feeling his hands on the sides of your body. He encased your body in his own and you leant up to meet his ear.

“Baby if you wanted to get me in this position, all you had to do was ask.” You kiss the side of jaw the blush on his face evident. Mikasa and Armin had come up to you both, confusion at how you both just stayed there.

The flirtations had been a common occurrence, you weren’t just naturally flirty with everybody you happened to have a soft spot for the boy and maybe a teensy crush. And the only way for you to let it out was through teasing and flirting which he seemed to enjoy a lot.

“Eren are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Mikasa speaks worriedly grabbing the top of his shirt to get him up, his cheeks visible to everybody.

You laugh getting up yourself, “Mikasa I’d never hurt the pretty little thing.” His eyes flash, widening at how easily you can flirt and tease at him, evidently a rush had gone somewhere else with how he grabbed his jacket from the floor covering his lap.

“Eren you shouldn’t put dirty things on your clothes.” Mikasa spoke about to grab it.

“I’m fine.” Eren muttered back, he watched as you walk a way a grin on your face at how at ease you were.

It wasn’t till after you all got back to the barracks that he could sort the downstairs problem and all he could imagine was you. A happier grin on his face he joined everybody for dinner, the bread being stale and the food being grim to say the least but the first thing he notices was how you, Jean, Marco, Connie and Sasha were on the table with Armin and Mikasa.

He shrugged it off grabbing the food and going to the table, “where were you?” Mikasa questions ready to give her his seat, but he instead sits beside you. You hadn’t noticed him listening to Sasha about food and hunting a smile on your face.

“I had to sort something out.” You nearly jump out of your seat at the sound of his voice a laugh echoing through your ears at how close you both were. His arms touching your own.

“Sort something out yeh.” You muttered lowly, it was barely audible but Eren heard and as much as he loved the flirting, he needed to give you a bit of your own medicine.

He moved his face towards your ear, his hot breath fanning your ear. “You created a problem for me, so I had to sort it somehow…” his voice becoming even more quieter, “how about next time you help me yourself?”

You had watched the boy grow, watched everything for two years and now at the sound of him knowingly flirting back, knowingly acknowledging something was there. You heart fluttered and a heavy red scattered across your cheeks, you felt warm and in heaven.

He moved his head ready to start a normal conversation with everybody else, nobody having paid attention except Mikasa who always kept an eye on the boy. For her sake, you hoped she didn’t like him because you knew you were not letting him go. “Now whose the flustered one.” It was audible enough and your head spun out how he knowingly knew that you were blushing at his comment.

You could barely speak; he expected a response but was instead brought with your wide eyes and flabbergasted face. “i…i…”

No words came out and with Jean on the other side of you trying to gain your attention you stayed frozen. “Did someone break Y/n?” Jean mutters, Marco laughing at how dumbfounded you were.

“I…I’m fine.” You seethe out trying to cover your face with your hair, “I need some air.”

You weren’t trying to get away, but you felt embarrassed, they had known you for two years as a major flirt even more than Ymir was to Historia but the way you had easily got flustered over a proposition. It was humiliating to say the least.

You rushed out, moving past the people. You had been holding in a breath that you quickly let out, the warm air hitting your skin, you leant against the building, looking up at the stars before you heard a cough beside you.

You turn and see Eren, the boy looking down before meeting your gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that and I’m so…”

Interrupting him, you began to speak yourself, “you don’t need to apologise, I just didn’t expect it I thought you didn’t know of my feelings towards you.”

He smiles coming closer to you, he brings his hand to your jaw making you look up at him, your back pressed against the wall. His other arm against the wall trapping your head, “Y/n you’ve been flirting with me for two years you really think I’m that unaware of anything.”

You tried to turn your head away, but his grip made you face him, “I thought your only focus was killing all the titans, or you liked someone else and were trying to let me down easily.”

“I’m not a dick to lead a girl on for two years Y/n, I needed to get over some stuff and then everything happened, and we’ve nearly finished this whole thing and I realised in a couple days we’ll be in the survey corps and fighting titans and I might not have another chance to say this. But I love you.”

The last three words were a whisper, but it was all you needed for you to grab his hair pulling his face closer to yours. He closed the gap in an instant, his hand removing off your jaw and onto your waist, it was a sweet kiss, filled with love and lust. His tongue licking your bottom lip for access, which you allowed, soft moans came from you both. Hoping nobody would see but that was the last thing on Eren’s mind as he relished in the way your tongues moved together. It was as if you were both made to fit into each other. It was a needed kiss and the turmoil the would come made it even sweeter.

jean kirschtein

The survey corps was the worst place to ever flirt ever. You and Jean had only just finished training and you were both thrown into the deep end with the first scouting mission, of course you and Jean had unhidden feelings, but it was always just flirting. Heavy flirting especially from you but just flirting.

The female titan being uncovered made everything become even more chaotic and finally when you both had gotten some sort of peace in where the main base of the survey corps were. You were spending it with your friend hoping no more disorder would come.

You sat at dinner, chewing at the bread as you leaned against Jean. He would often let you lean against him just to know that you were there, and to everybody you acted like a couple but you both knew that neither of you had admitted any feelings. You talked between yourself as the others had left themselves before it was just the two of you. They knew that once you two were deep in conversation nobody was every going to break past the two of you. Which was evident as you realised everybody had left.

“Where did everyone go?” You gestured to the empty dining area.

Jean looked around, you both had been in your own world, talking about everything you two possibly could, “they must’ve left.” He shrugs grabbing the glass of empty water. “You drank my water.”

“I was thirsty.” You try and gain sympathy, but he rolls his eyes at you.

He drops the glass looking at you again, “I wish I spat in it.”

“Gross but if you’re into that.”

“You’re terrible Y/n, I hope you know that” He mutters shaking his head, you had still been leaning against him but as you stretched, he knew what was coming.

“Come on pretty boy, let’s go on a walk.” You gesture about to stand up.

“Pretty boy, really.” He mutters but you could sense he had a thrill from hearing the words.

You pout standing up and putting your hand out, “would you rather me call you horse face?”

The nickname Eren had given him a plague on your tongue, he whipped his head to face you. Taking his hand in yours, he was a lot taller than you, but you liked the height different, it made you feel safe. “If you call me that I’m never talking to you ever again.”

You laugh at the boy before speaking, “I don’t need you to talk, just little moans will do it for me.”

He always admired your boldness, both your feelings there but never told to each other. It wasn’t like you two had even kissed yet and this had been going on for two years now. Of course your flirting always left him a mess, many nights along in his room thinking of you. Sometimes you came too close to him your breath on his neck, or it was how in your normal clothes you left a couple buttons shown to see your visible chest. Or even better how you said bold words that to anyone would only be reserved for a couple.

He knew how outspoken you were but you both had just not gone down to talking about your feelings. He himself never went to the extent you did but he loved watching you flirt with him and even make him jealous occasional by touching Eren’s arm.

He knew if in a relationship, you doing that would make him fuck you in an instant but right now he couldn’t do shit. He could only watch you flirt with him, you both had arrived outside, the breath of fresh air hitting you both.

You saw some of your friends, seeing Connie try and fight Sasha for some meat presumably. You dragged Jean the other way, wanting him all to yourself. “You’re awfully quiet, what happened am I too pretty that you’ve gone quiet?” You giggle pulling him along the narrow alleyway, he admired how you occasionally looked around to make sure he was still following even though you were the one holding his hand.

Finally getting into the open area, you sat on one of the steps waiting for him to join, you undid a few buttons. His eyes fixated on your hand movement, “I don’t bite you know, unless you’re into that.”

A blush creeped onto his face, he shut his eyes to surpress it but to no avail he became a mess under your words. He sat beside you quietly, trying to think of what to say before an idea popped into his head, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be spending so much alone time with me, I might ruin you.”

“Ruin away.” You taunted back waiting for a comeback, he smirked facing you your head rested against his shoulder whilst looking up at his face. He was a pretty boy, you could imagine him ruining you, you had been known back in your town as timid and quiet, but it was really because nobody really took an interest in.

But Jean, he was perfect having come up to talk to you and as time went on you grew comfortable enough to stop being timid and be the loud outspoken person you are today. And it was all down to the hot head.

He touched your thigh rubbing is fingers up and down, a friction making you tense up. He had never gotten this close, never done this before but you liked it. “I bet you’ve spent countless nights thinking about me, you enjoy taunting me because it gives you a thrill, but both of us know that when we’re alone you’re just a hot mess…” He paused taking a breath, “just for me.”

You knew he was right, the nights tossing and turning not able to sleep, with thoughts of him touching and kissing you. Your cheeks erupted in a flush on embarrassment. You were the one to get shy this time, he grabbed your face, moving his lips closer to yours whilst speaking, “now whose the flustered one.”

He edged closer and closer before you closed your eyes and kissed him softly, the fireworks that erupted inside of you made you melt under his touch. He guided the kiss with his hand, making sure that you were comfortable but satisfied by it all, it deepened with his hand grabbing your thigh to bring you closer. You could almost feel his own thighs beneath him, his teeth tugging at your lip to gain access for his tongue. You obliged with ease, the movements of both your tongue perfectly balanced with soft moans erupting from your mouth. You felt dazed but enjoyed every second of it, because you had finally gotten the kiss you had dreamt about.

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band--psycho · 4 years ago

Text

Jax Teller x Reader-I’m The Baby Whisperer

Requested by the lovely @rebelwrites, I hope you all enjoy this! 💜

Prompt List Requests / 1.3k Writing Celebration Masterlist / Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist

I sighed in frustration, throwing my phone on the couch before collapsing into it myself. As soon as I felt like I was taking a step forward, I seemed to get knocked back again. I was meant to be going for an interview today and up until a few minutes ago everything was going just like I’d hoped, my son was s/n was still peacefully sleeping in his crib, allowing me to try on at least five different outfits for the interview before settling on a white blouse, a navy blue blazer with matching trousers and a pair of white block heels shoes to match my top, as well as a light covering of makeup. I felt more confident than I had done in years and I was so determined to ace this interview right up until my sister rang me saying that she wouldn’t be able to come over and look after S/n. It wasn’t her fault and I knew that, but I had no back up plan and I didn’t have the money to pay a babysitter. I felt everything I had hoped for just begin to slowly fall apart in front of me and I had no idea what to do.

I was dragged away from my thoughts when I heard a repetitive knocking at my door and couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread and annoyance wash over me as I bolted towards the door. It wasn’t because I was scared who was on the other side of the door but because I didn’t want anything to disturb S/n nor did I want anyone to see the state I was currently in. However, all of that seemed to fade when I opened the door to see the one and only Jax Teller standing outside with a bag of groceries in his hand, his charming smile painted on his face.

“Why’re you so dressed up at this hour?” He asked, with a small chuckle in his voice as his eyes scanned down my body. Normally whenever he came round I was dressed in what I like to call my lazy day wear, which mainly consisted of baggy jeans, a crop top and a cardigan, so I could imagine seeing me like this would be a shock. But as he said those words I felt my heart drop as I remembered the interview...

“Woah, what’s wrong, darlin’?” He asked, his smile faltering slightly when his eyes locked with mine, without any hesitation he pulled me into a hug that I gladly reciprocated. There was always something about Jax that calmed me, no matter how stressed I was.

“I was meant to have an interview today,” I muttered into his chest, trying not to burst into tears as all of the stress built up in my body.

He pulled from the hug slightly with a raised eyebrow before asking “An interview?”

“Y’know like a job interview,” I sassed back with, a small smile creeping upon my face as a small chuckle slipped past his perfect lips.

“I’m well aware what an interview is, darlin’, where?”

“This new firm in town,” I answered, sighing in defeat once again, pulling away from the hug completely as I tried to keep myself together. The last thing I wanted to do was breakdown on Jax-he’d seen enough of my breakdowns recently. I didn’t want to put him through another one.

“Okay,” He began, in a low voice, walking towards me, rubbing soothing circles onto my arms “I'm struggling to see what’s bad about this, shouldn’t you be happy to have an interview?”

“I would be but my sister just called me saying that she’s ill so can’t look after S/n and my mum isn’t picking up her phone and I can’t just take him into the interview and even if I could I’ve only just got him off to sleep and-”

“Darlin’, breathe,” Jax interjected, moving his hands from my arm to my face, caressing my cheeks as he lightly lifted my face up, forcing my eyes to look into his gorgeous blue ones; getting lost in them like I always used to. Even his eyes could calm me down...it was bizarre, but right now it’s what I needed.

I tried so hard to stop the tears that forming in my eyes from falling because I didn’t want to breakdown nor did I want to ruin my makeup “Sorry, I just...I just don’t know what to do,” I muttered, feeling myself lean in more to his touch, like it was the only thing keeping me together. Which to be honest at this very moment wasn’t that far from the truth.

“I’ll look after him,” Jax stated, his hands tracing small circles on to my cheeks. Those very words were enough to make my heart both melt and to strike fear into me. I trusted Jax more than anyone in this world and I knew he would never hurt S/n but since I’d left Will, my abusive ex boyfriend I never felt comfortable leaving S/n alone with anyone else besides my sister and my mum because I trusted them and I knew that they would never hurt S/n. But it was Jax. He wasn’t some random stranger, he was one of my closest friends. He was the friend who practically saved me from that toxic relationship....

“He’s safe with me,” Jax whispered soothingly, his hands still caressing my face, holding me close. I nodded slowly knowing that I could trust him with S/n.

A small smile came on his face at my answer, before he connected his lips lightly to my forehead,“Knock ‘em dead, darlin’,” he whispered before handing me the keys to my car, that charming smile coming on his face again, making my heart race and my cheeks redden, luckily I turned around and quickly left the house before he could notice.

~~~~~~~~~~

The interview went amazingly well, I don’t think I’d ever had an interview go that well in any of my previous jobs, so to say that I was confident in getting a job was an understatement. As I pulled up outside the house, I fully expected to hear S/n crying echoing outside the house as I walked towards it, but I didn’t. In fact I heard nothing but silence. Pure silence, normally people would enjoy the silence but all I could feel was worry. Worry that Will had found out where we were...that he’d hurt Jax and taken S/n, quickly I opened the door and shouted out “Jax”, at first he didn’t appear only making the anxiety I was feeling to grow but when I shouted his name for the second time and he appeared carrying S/n in his arms, with a pleased grin on his face.Relief washed over me as I saw both of them and I felt my heart swell in my chest as the scene before me. I’d never seen S/n so calm around anyone else other than me, not even my sister or mum, even with them he cried a lot.

“Hey, darlin’, how’d the interview go,” he asked, moving closer towards me, giving me a kiss on the forehead before passing S/n over to me. God I could get used to this, something about coming home to Jax and S/n just made my heart feel whole.

“It went amazingly well, actually, I’m feeling really confident about it,” I answered with a smile on my face, as I gave S/n his favourite toy, causing him to giggle in joy.

“I’m glad, you deserve a win darlin’,” his voice was soft and there was a look in his eye that made the butterflies in my stomach flutter.

“How was he?” I asked, with a slight chuckle in my voice as S/n dropped the toy and started playing with my hair instead.

“He was as good as gold, barely cried at all,” I knew a confused look must’ve come over my face by the way he chuckled, leaning in closer to me and whispered “No need to look so shocked, darlin’, I’m the baby whisperer,after all.” And with that he grabbed his hoodie which was draped over my chair. I didn’t want him to leave; it was nice having him here. He made me feel safe and loved...just like he used to before I left.

“Do you wanna stay the night?” it took me a second to realise what I’d just asked, making my heart beat faster in my chest more than I ever thought possible. God, no. This was not what I wanted to do. Well I did. I wanted him to stay. But now I’ve probably just scared him off-of course he doesn’t want to stay...why would he...he-was kissing me-wait-what. I opened my eyes briefly in shock, and he was. Jax Teller was kissing me...and within a few seconds without even really thinking about it, I was kissing him back; it was like we were in our own little bubble. The only thing that brought us back to the real world was the sound of S/n giggling away.

“I’d love to stay the night, darlin’,” he whispered against my lips, causing that familiar blush to appear on my cheeks, as he pulled me and S/n into his embrace. This was a new chapter in my life and no matter what had happened before in the past, I was excited to see how my life with Jax would look like. It was the new start I’d desperately craved for so long...and now I had it.

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stopeatingwhales · 4 years ago

Text

second chance x damon albarn

i'm surprised i haven't written anything about dilf damon yet bc i've been so obsessed with him recently wtf. anyways enjoy x

i might do a second part to this, idk yet tho

Pairing: dilf damon x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 2.786

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Do you want to come over?” I abruptly asked, the silence pouring through the line deafening my ears as my fingers toyed with the hem of my shirt. The desperation and moment that led to me ringing my ex-boyfriend at what was nearing eight in the evening seemed as though it was a fever dream, the words rolling off my tongue so delicately out of apprehension only a fragment of that trance. In all honesty, I had no idea as to why I rang Damon, or to what extent the string of thoughts guided me towards the action of calling - we had been broken up for around a year, and it came as a much larger shock that I was able to muster the amount of courage to tap his contact on my phone and attentively listen to the thunderous rings as the landlines attempted to connect, instead of quickly shutting the phone off before he was able to receive a missed call alert.

“Uh, um - are you sure?” he questioned, the stutter escaping his mouth insinuated that he was just as dazed at my sudden offer as me, the demeanour of his voice accentuating the idea that he was entirely finished with the ephemeral chapter of his life which had me intertwined inside as his partner; that he had gotten over me quicker than the momentary period our relationship lasted. My heart sank, realising how indigent I sounded, as if I had never gotten over him throughout our time apart - which I did, learning to live with myself was easier than I had thought it was going to be; the weeks leading up to the breakup stemming from the distance we shared apart due to Damon consistently being on tour and never providing enough time for me, for us, to consider one another as more than romantically acquainted, though that didn’t mean the gap in my heart had been sealed shut, it was simply brimmed with other, unspecial fragments of things which could only distract the thought of him for so long, until I’d discover myself adventuring for something else to hyperfixate my thoughts upon, though he always returned.

“Yeah…” My voice trailed off, so quiet that I struggled to sustain the volume. Though we had only just spoken, the trance that he had obtained over me for all those months we were with one accord, returned in an instant, having the same rush that a recollection of memories, pastimes that were once forgotten, crumbled to dust, had been reborn; ignited into a new bloom in the height of a harvest, resulting in the scolding of yourself upon how you granted the ability to forget such a thing. It seemed as if all those thoughts, ideations convinced to the point that I had gotten over him, were myriads of masks attempting to say it enough to believe it. Without a doubt, I had never overcome the strains of the acquaintance we shared - and I could only hope he felt the same way.

I heard his throat clear itself before his voice echoed through the telephone speakers once again. “Alright… I’ll be there in a bit.” he mumbled, those words bringing a soft, yet apprehensive grin to my lips. I had no idea what I was doing, or why, but it felt right.

It felt as if only the sum of a few minutes passed when I heard a distinguishable knock on the door; one that had not rang through my ears for an interminable amount of time, one that was able to send me months back in time to a period where he had significantly been a figurehead dictating the story. As I jolted up to answer the door, it felt as if things were normal again, back to how they used to be so many nights previous; me waiting for him to come home after he spent a long day at the recording studio, crafting what could only be assumed was the pure essence of talent, unlocking the door to allow my arms to envelop into an embrace cherished with affection and warmth, proving he longed to have my presence just as much as I craved his. Once my eyes met the sight of him, my heart dropped at the overwhelming feeling of my reminiscing about what once was, the nostalgia for a moment so authentically shaped with what could only be described as true love, my body yearning to relish in the sensation of his arms protectively wrapped around my body, a feeling which could only fulfill one’s heart with all that it desires. "Hi..." I trailed off, stunned by how similar, yet different his appearance was from when we last saw one another. His hair had the same shape, though it seemed a little shorter, his eyebags still prominent on his features, though it seemed as if they had sagged down slightly, posing the idea of whether he had been sleeping alright. His torso still adorned shirts with dark colours, amplified with one of his leather jackets which only made me more attracted to him. Widening the door, he set foot into the apartment, nodding his head lightly as a greeting. Although I was very elated to the fact that he was in my apartment, it felt eerie having him back here after so long, stepping foot into the space that was once served merely as a homely and secure space where we both could simply live and enjoy our time together, no distractions included.

Once I had followed him into the living space, he took a seat onto the couch facing the television. I attempted to make my footsteps omit as little noise as possible, as if to avoid damaging the awkward silence that had been shared between the pair of us. It went without saying that neither of us knew how to break the ice, or where this was going to head. One could only hope that the outcome of this meeting was positive. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked, ushering over to the cabinet adjacent to the television, supplied with all sorts of alcoholic beverages in which I had not touched, simply there as a point of manners to offer when somebody had come over. “White?” I offered, pulling out an almost-full bottle of white wine. I knew he hated it.

"You know I’ve always hated white." he mumbled, a small smile playing upon his lips. Something about that little grin plastered on his lips made my stomach flip and turn, welcoming a swarm of butterflies to accentuate the nervous pit that had formed within myself. The intense feelings reminded me of the same bewilderment your body undergoes during the first date; there is such a raw attraction to somebody that you know far too little about, but you are so hypnotised by their presence it is as if they’re the only thing in the world that matters, to the point that they obnoxiously overtake your mind, every little thought occupied with their name, wondering whether they may like such and such, like an infection spreading without you knowing such cure for it. The atmosphere was intense, carrying the same ambience of two strangers meeting for the first time in an isolated space, though there was also a refreshing element of familiarity that neither of us wanted to admit that we appreciated so deeply.

"Red?" I asked, snatching the half empty bottle as I placed the other wine bottle back in its designated place, turning my head back to fix my gaze onto Damon, raising my eyebrows as a form of derise for the drink. Nodding his head in response, I quickly took two glasses from the cabinet, brimming them both with the alcoholic liquid before slowly making my way to sit next to him on the sofa, handing him one of the glasses as he thanked me in response. The same devilish silence echoed in the room once again as we granted the situation to truly sink in - thankfully alcohol was present. As I took a sip of the beverage, I tried to gulp down as much liquid as possible before I spoke once again. "So... how have you been?"

"Good... Just came off tour actually. Was a really successful one." he replied, his voice laced with a slight tone of doubt, edging the regret of so eagerly returning back into a place that was once so attached to his occupancy. He carried on talking about how the tour had been, my head subconsciously nodding, attentive to what he was talking about. Each time he had told me about something new they had added, or something they had changed surrounding the live performance set-up, it never failed to blow me away. Him and Jamie together, working on such a creative idea and putting it to life on stage was truly something out of rare virtuosity, disregarding the lengthy old ramblings from Damon almost every night he had returned home about how much Jamie had pissed him off, having a petty argument as if it was a be or end all in their friendship. It was actually a good form of entertainment, seeing how riled up Damon had gotten simply because of something that Jamie joked in an interview.

Once he had finished talking, our eyes connected, uncertainty clouded in his eyes as he searched for the reason behind him needing to come over. "Y/N, why did you ask me to come over?" He said, abrupt, almost as if those words had been lingering at the back of his mind the entire time we had been in one another’s acquaintance; the ease of the sting of words rolling off his tongue softly implied that, perhaps a try to prevent the harshness of the asking from offending me in the slightest. "We haven't seen each other for a year, why now?"

Both gazes never dared to break contact as if we had attempted to communicate telepathically - the ideation of instigating a conversation as awkward as how this had become, the two of us simply wanting the ground to swallow us whole. His gaze had the ability to put me into a trance upon which I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else except for the utter magnificence that was birthed into his loving eyes. Inhaling sharply, I tried to collect the thoughts in my brain that had been travelling in all directions, searching for all sorts of different possibilities that the conversation could reach. "Can we give it a second chance?" I asked absentmindedly, the realisation of what had just rolled off my tongue not settling in my mind until his eyes widened, speechless and shocked at my sudden questioning.

Sighing, he cocked his head to the side. “Love, we didn't work out the first time..." he began, my heart dropping to my stomach as the thought of him breaking my heart again entered my mind. His expression quickly softened once he saw my face drain colour, explaining all that he needed to know about how I had coped since he had left the picture. "I don't want to hurt you again."

Breaking away from the stare, I gawked at the dark shades of red that had adorned the transparent glass clasped in my palm. Holding in my emotions wasn’t going to do me any justice, and since he was here, it would not make sense for me to stupidly avoid the whole reasoning behind me needing him inside my apartment after so long. “It’s been so hard trying to get over you,” I mumbled, my voice almost inaudible out of embarrassment, though I knew he could hear me. “I need you.”

What I didn’t see from my shameful gaze at the ground, was the miniscule beam that broke out across Damon’s features. What I was unaware of, my body encompassed in such a impotent state of pure isolation, was that Damon had been as dependent on hearing those words escaping my mouth before he could admit the same to himself. Though it had all been answered to me as he softly brought his arm to caress my arm, gently squeezing the skin as a form of reassurance, implying the notion that he understood, that he felt the same way, after all this time. We broke up not because we lost feelings, but because the emotions we carried for one another were too strong to handle, too intense to progress with, that when he was gone for those long hours it had left me in such a stupor of helplessness and melancholy that it was unbearable to handle without it tarnishing my health. Unsurprisingly, at this point we knew where the conversation was headed; my desires to be swathed in his arms once again that I had tried so hard to banish to the back of my mind, to the depths of my distant memories in which by reliving such a hug came flooding back, my body leaned into his touch almost instantaneously, a subconscious reflex that I had craved, such an embrace that no other person could give, the mere side hug from him was able to banish all the pain that I had tried so diligently to mask away for the past few months.

We sat there for a short while, taking in the moment as it had played throughout, our breathing syncing together as comfort relished in the atmosphere, our minds now finally at peace while all the conflict that had battled our minds over the time we weren’t together. "Let me come on tour with you." I said, my head resting against his shoulder.

A chuckle erupted out of his throat. “It’s not that easy love.”

"Why can't it be? You're literally the frontman!" I exclaimed, lifting my head off his shoulder to connect eyes with him. "Damon, it would be so fun!" I exclaimed, attempting to encourage him.

It was as if things had mended back together, all the cracks in the pavements had been glued together to mend the time lost, as if it had never occurred. Through all the hardship I had faced trying to find the remedy to my heartache, I was dumbfounded to realise that it had been sitting in front of me, at the top of my phone’s contact list, right in front of my eyes this entire time. His eyes were calling out to me, enveloping my heart in comfort and warmth, the hunger radiating out eager to the ideation of starting anew and preserving the time in which we had lost, building new memories, unfastening the lock on the clock dictating the length of the relationship, allowing it to elongate, carry on as long as we could. My heart brimmed with homeliness - the house I was inside finally feeling normal to me once again.

"I'll see what I can do," he grins, the beautiful sight causing a small smile to erupt on my face as my body melted back into his arms once again. "No promises though."

It felt nice to wake up next to someone again the next morning, on the mattress that once was a carcass of many tears of sadness and melancholy, authentically conveyed by the essence of nihilism embodied from isolation, the kind of philosophical beliefs one could only develop an understanding towards subsequent to irrational thinking as the hours fell still, leaving you sat there, reliving the last moments from your memory bank with the significant other you had soiled ends with, a person who had supported you from the very beginning, even when things formed a bitter congestion to the relationship devoured by both participants, perhaps from the acceleration of argumentation shared, or the distance that had started to weave its way between, leaving you both stranded to conclude, as if you were both on separate, desolate islands fighting against the starvation of progressing through your lives and starting anew, departing from the old knots and attachments formed once epitomising pure adoration and love, though over time spawning to be the offspring of the devil. A person whom you knew would make your bed every morning, cradle you in his arms at the darkest hours to baptise the negativity coiled in your brain, whispering what seems like sweet nothings, merely sounding like soft raspy groans due to them being exhausted out of their mind, but you knew they were saying something to you, you could hear it, acknowledge it in a language that nobody else was able to understand. I relished in concession that he who lay beside me was the one that bestowed and epitomised all the things that I once lacked a night before. A lover.

#want 2 marry dilf damon ngl #he's literally perfect #damon albarn x reader #gorillaz #britpop #90s #nineties #damon albarn #band imagines #fluff #my writing

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bleufrost · 4 years ago

Text

There's Just Time (A Loki x reader Fanfic)

Chapter One: We've Met Before

Summary: You were an explosion waiting to happen who found love in the arms of a hurricane. Loki saw you as an angel that calmed his demons. For you, he was a savior that taught you to trust your abilities, yourself, and others. When he died, you were broken. You clung to any hope possible and watched as it all fell away. With nothing left, stories from your youth flooded back of a mysterious force that controlled time and space, and you knew that you would do anything to see him again...even if that something meant teaming up with the Time Variance Authority to capture the man you love.

A series of murders catch Mobius' eye. A familiar face catches yours.

Words: 3,118

Warnings: grief, mentions of self harm, death

Prologue

If you'd searched the whole wide world

Would you dare to let it go?

The pews of this church were far less comfortable than you could have possibly imagined. You let your feet dangle for a moment before pushing them up on to the pew in front of you. A bored yawn echoes in the empty halls and your eyes fall closed as the workers around you continue to struggle to make sense of the scene. When you try to breathe, you notice that the air is far too still.

“It’s great to see you making yourself useful.” The soft sound of shoes stop steadily next to your seat. With an annoyed huff, you push your feet down and sit up, looking at Mobius.

“I could be far more useful if you’d let me use my goddamn powers.” He sighs and stares down at his watch. “You know I can’t do that. Now come on, you’re a smart kid. What does this all look like to you?”

Your eyes don’t leave him for a few seconds. There was a time where you would have tried to run off; take what you needed to jump from place to place and find Loki on your own. Not now though. You know these people are far more powerful than they let on. You know that you need them if you’re ever going to see him again.

With that in mind, you walk over to the candlelit section, Mobius following closely behind. The bodies are spread out on the floor, each with wounds in a pattern far too familiar. Gunshots were never your forte. Stab wounds on the other hand, you were taught well by the best on how to both treat and inflict.

“They were stabbed.” He nods and squats down to inspect the wounds of one body more closely.

“They’re all consistent with the others. Look at the position of the bodies.” Your eyes glance over each of them. Some look defensive, but in a sudden way. Almost as if…”They didn’t know something was coming to them until it was too late. It was a blindside.” Mobius rises and pats your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable, he’s trying desperately to be your friend and you don’t really know why. You both knew you weren’t here because it was your first option.

“That makes six attacks this week.” Your fingers tingle with the need to feel something. If you could just tap into the energy here, it could make everything so much easier. There is endless knowledge in the atmosphere of a room, especially one where such horrific things occurred. It was infuriating that they you couldn’t use a part of yourself that you had learned to depend on.

“Those are just the ones we know of.” Mobius walks around the side of the room again, just in time for your frustration to bubble over. You stare him down and, even without your abilities, you know he can feel the anger that courses through you.

“I thought you guys were all knowing.” You step toward Mobius and one of the soldiers lifts his gun. Mobius quickly puts a hand up to order him to stand down. He walks closer to you, arms up in attempt to defuse the situation. His patience pisses you off even more.

“This is a variant we’re talking about. You know better than most that those aren’t so well regulated.” He watches you closely as your jaw clenches. He’s right and you know it. It’s just felt like an eternity since any sign of Loki has come up. You were on edge, without your powers, and working with people you didn’t fully trust. Playing it cool was the only way to keep your position as Mobius’ partner though, and you had to remember that.

“Right.” You nod and turn away right as the shuffle of feet sounds from down the hall. A small child runs by and Mobius follows, along with a few of the crew. You’re not so quick to see what’s going on though. Right now, you need to think. The bodies around you were alarming. The stab wounds even more so. There was no way that Mobius didn't recognize the same signs you did, but you weren't about to broadcast it with the small chance that he didn't already know.

You had been working with Mobius for a little while now. You weren’t exactly sure how long because time has a weird tendency to move differently at the TVA. It was long enough to establish that, while you weren’t the most fond of him, he held a certain faith in you that the others lacked. Still, something was off, you just didn’t know what yet.

That’s what made all of this even more concerning. If your suspicions were even close to correct about the recent murders…you knew where your loyalties were held, and it wasn’t with Mobius or the TVA. Loki was somewhere out there. For a brief moment, before you had your powers stripped from you, you could almost feel him. It was the connection to his energy that tethered you to him when you first met, and it was a similar one to what called you to him back at the revisit to New York. There was something that kept hope in you that he was still alive, and the feeling stayed with you until the moment you entered the TVA.

Every once in a while, out here in the field, you think you can still feel little shards of it.

Your mind stops wandering when you see Mobius take something from the child to be examined. It was a little blue package, but the glowing teeth on the child are what really catch your eye. You make it just in time to see the kid point out the stained-glass imagery of the devil. Horns protrude from his head like a crown. It all felt too familiar: the god-like being, horned crown, stab wounds, and tricky nature of a blind attack. The anger, the mistrust. Your eyes can’t seem to tear away for a second, but when they do, you can’t help but stare at this kid. Something was definitely not right. Why was he so calm?

Mobius watches you from his place by the doorway and takes it all in. You can see it when you look back at him; the knowing look he gives you. It’s unsettling to think that your thoughts are so easily deciphered when you don’t have your shield to hide behind. He doesn’t ask any questions though, and for that you’re almost grateful. He says something else to the kid, but you aren’t listening anymore.

“Alright, let’s head out.” Mobius takes your arm and guides you back to the main hall. Part of you thinks these little gestures are to establish trust. Mobius truly has given you no real reason to dislike him. As a person, he appears inherently good. Without your ability to read him though, you never know what to trust. The fact that they seem adamant to keep them from you, while not his decision, makes you weary of the whole organization.

“Any of that seem odd to you?” He looks between your face and the rest of the room quickly. You know he’s trying to make it seem like he’s not watching you that closely, even though he is. Keeping your face as steady as you can, you choose your words carefully. Focus on the gum, not the horns. Not the stab wounds.

“Yeah, the gum was weird as shit. Definitely not the usual candy for this time period.” You brush his arm off of you and move your body around to feign looking over the church in attempt to hide the action. “You never know though, they might be more modern than we think.” He watches you with a straight face that breaks out into a smile instantly. Mobius nods and grins at you.

“I agree. No time variance there.” His voice is sarcastic and playful in that moment, but his face falls serious again. “What about the devil?”

You do everything in your power to not flinch or make any indication of discomfort at the question. “What about the devil? I feel like it could be a clue, but it could also just be some kid who learned from a very early age that any evil is done by a creature with hooves who lives in hell.” He continues to watch you and you continue to be as nonchalant as possible.

Finally, he nods. “Maybe.” Mobius turns and you pause to breathe for a moment before following him back to the TVA.

Upon your arrival, things move incredibly fast. Thoughts of the case are abandoned in favor of a much more urgent matter.

A call came in immediately. Before you even had a moment to settle yourself back into the usually stale atmosphere of TVA headquarters, Mobius was rushing you into a room. You almost miss the fact that the air is not stale in the slightest; in fact, it almost felt as though it was crackling with electricity.

“I need to know that you won’t do anything stupid.” The words left his mouth with urgency. The constant glances over his shoulder to the awaiting hall a clear sign that he knew something you didn’t.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, “What are you talking about?” He turns and paces the floor. Once. Twice. Three times before his movements halt.

“The Loki you know isn’t here. He never will be. You understand that, right?” His device flashes in his hand. You don’t know what the flashes mean, but you do know what he’s implying. Loki’s here. Somewhere in this building. In the same general place that you are. Loki is here.

Mobius continues to wait for a response. His foot taps with impatience. “When I took you in, we promised each other that our partnership wasn’t over when we found him. You can’t go rogue on me or this is all over for everyone, do you understand?”

Your breaths come out in rapid little puffs as your mind tries to wrap itself around the unspoken truth here. Mobius is right in theory. This isn’t the Loki you knew at the time you lost him originally. This Loki is still afraid. He’s angry, hurt, confused, and so far from trusting you. Where Mobius is wrong though, is in thinking you aren’t familiar with him at all. You know Loki in all forms, and if it takes a little extra time to make up for lost memories, that would be more than okay with you.

“Hey, I need an answer.” Mobius’ voice was barely registering with you, but you heard it. He’s on edge and you almost panic at the thought of potentially not seeing Loki as soon as possible if Mobius doesn’t think you can handle it.

“I understand and I��m not going to do anything stupid.” You can’t speak the words fast enough and as Mobius searches your eyes for any sign of deceit, you know all he sees is honest desperation. You would do anything to be with him again. That’s the truth.

With an affirming nod, Mobius leads the way to a section you recognize as the courtroom.

The air here is thick, almost unbreathable. The crackles turn to little sparks as you near the doors. How is it that in a place that banishes magic, Loki can still make the ghost of yours come to life? To say that you aren’t prepared to see him again would be an understatement. You traveled through time itself to be near him again, but the prospect of achieving that goal never actually felt like a fantasy you could fully entertain. How very like him to bring your wildest dreams to fruition in the most obscure of moments. Your thoughts all come to a sudden halt when you hear the faint sound of the most narcissistic angel to ever utter a word.

“…because they traveled through time. No doubt in a last ditch effort to stave off my ascent to god king,” Your mouth falls open in silent shock. Of course the first thing you hear from him in years is an accusation, you assume, to have you arrested instead of him.

Your gaze falls on him and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders as you see him, truly see him, moving, speaking, and having just as big a flair for the dramatics as usual. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s okay.

Mobius nudges you to follow him and you both attempt to silently take your seats in the rows lining the courtroom. Your heart pangs as Loki mentions Tony, but you sit and listen, nonetheless. He continues to argue with the judge, bringing up your old team and reminding you of just how much things have changed irreparably.

“Perhaps you can provide me with a task force and resources, and I can return and eliminate them for you.” His hands are spread confidently, but they immediately fall when you let out a short laugh. The comment caught you off guard and a part of you loved that he still thought he could squash your team so easily. Even after all that happened in New York, he never gave up and you loved that about him; even if his determination was a bit misplaced at the moment. Loki is nothing if not confident in his abilities to charm and disarm.

Your hands fly to your mouth immediately when you realize that the majority of the courtroom is staring at you.

That’s when it happens. His gaze pierces into you like a dagger, sharp and oh so welcome to do whatever damage it pleases. Your hand goes down, stopping at your chest where you can feel your heart pounding. Tears slowly well up in your eyes, but you blink them away as quickly as they came.

Loki tilts his head to the side subtly. You know he recognizes you and you know your lame attempt to hide your pain and love was seen right through. He doesn’t say anything though. Even though he was just offering to hunt your team down for sport and turn you in to gain his freedom, he says nothing to indicate you should be on trial. Instead, his eyebrows scrunch together, and he continues to stare at you. There seems to be a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you know you’re just imagining it.

The judge clears her throat, calling the attention of the room back to her. Loki’s eyes slowly move from yours. You continue to watch him though. It isn’t irrational to fear he might disappear at any moment. Not with him, and definitely not here.

You barely listen as he learns many of the same things you previously did about the Time-Keepers and his inability to use magic here. His attempts to conjure his daggers pulls your focus, but not in the same way a conversation would. No, you swear that you feel the frustration and utter helplessness that courses through him. You know the feeling, but this rushes over you just as fresh as the day you lost your powers. You can't be feeling it from him though, and that is reestablished in your mind as his magic fails to conjure.

What does call your attention is the sentencing that Loki receives and the sheer panic of potentially losing him again. You move to rise, ready to put up a fight because you know that being this close and failing is not something that you want to survive. In that moment, you don’t care if they kill you instantly. You just can’t live in a world without him. Not again. If you could find a way for him to escape, a way to feel him one more time and know that there is a chance that he could be okay, that he could live and learn to love again…well, death wouldn’t be so bad at all.

Before anything could happen though, Mobius pushes you back into place with a firm hand and rises. He runs over to the stand, speaking to the judge in whispers that you can’t decipher. Your lip trembles and you choose to scan the room for an escape route instead of focusing on Mobius, and Loki’s impending doom. When you find Loki again, his eyes are fearful and searching just like yours. You’re too preoccupied to notice when his worried gaze lands back on you. You don’t see when the fear slips from him and turns to calmness for a reason that he can barely understand.

The few seconds that Mobius spends by the stand feel like a lifetime, but his words are worth the wait.

“Alright, Loki you’re coming with us.” You have never felt more grateful for the man in your time here. Mobius takes hold of a collared Loki and guides him to the door. Loki shrugs his hand off and glares at him. “Who is us?” You take that as your cue and rise to fall into step on the opposite side of Loki.

Loki’s eyes find you the moment you’re next to him. The first time you met back in New York, you were young and still in training to fight. They had put you in the field out of desperation. When you came face to face with Loki then, you had felt small and insignificant. His confusion when he wasn’t able to control you had sparked a subtle interest in him, but you were still just an insignificant child in the eyes of a powerful god.

Now, standing next to him, you didn’t feel small in the slightest. You felt just as powerful as he had taught you to be. Even if he didn’t remember the endless time you spent together, the nights you cried over the torment your powers put you through and the days he could barely see himself through the monster he thought he was. Even if he had no memory of picnics in the park, dark nights spent teaching you to dance beneath the stars, movie nights, and laughing as you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs in an effort to get your family to sing along (Tony, Wanda, and Thor often did); it was okay. All you needed was each other. The rest would fall into place.

“Hi. I think we’ve met before.” You give him a smile and continue walking beside them. Loki’s eyes don’t leave your face and you feel him staring as you all leave the courtroom behind. Finally, he shakes from his thoughts and offers you a soft nod.

“Yes. I believe we have.”

a/n: ahh first chapter done! I really hope you guys like this. please feel free to leave any feedback/suggestions you have to make my writing or story better. I appreciate any interaction so so much xx

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honeytae · 4 years ago

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Happiest of tipsy birthdays to you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUNA!!!!! ahh where do i even start, i’m so grateful for you and our friendship :( you create such a safe space and radiate such love and light, you deserve everything that you put out into the world and i hope you have the best day today and every day! i love you so much, please accept my gift of a jimin drabble (that i really should just title ‘For Luna’ honestly) and millions of virtual hugs and smooches today. happy birthday @stayjimin!!!!!!!!!

genre: fluff word count: 1.7k

“Oh my god Jimin, we’re so screwed.”

Falling into the man with a cackle, you laughed even harder when he too fell over in his unsteady state, tugging you down with him onto the set of stairs as your combined giggles echoed off the walls.

Your head spun in the best way possible as you laid down on Jimin’s chest, far too gone to care about the dirt on the floor of the dorms stairway, both drunkenly collapsed from your birthday night out.

You couldn’t remember how many shots you’d taken. It was, as they say, all a blur. All you could see was Jimin on that dance floor, switching between sensual moves to downright idiocracy as he shimmied his shoulders all the wall from the bar back to your booth, offering you drink after drink with that charming smile of his.

Damn him.

With your blood alcohol level, walking seemed to be impossible. Doing stairs, even more so. You were definitely well past tipsy.

“We really are.” He sighed happily, crescent eyes making you even dizzier in your state as you stared at the man’s beautiful features.

He always got especially giggly when he was drunk, which was probably what you adored the most about him. Consistently happy when he was sober, yes. But get a shot of tequila in his system and he was giddy.

His body was soft yet firm beneath you as his arms latched around your frame, the rising and falling of his chest creating a calm within you that only he could.

“Chim,” you called, “we have to get up these stairs.” You remembered suddenly, setting your chin on his pec to look up at him as he seemed to ponder the thought.

“We could call Bang-”

With a snort, you cut him off, making the man pout as he squeezed at your side.

“What?”

“We’re not calling your manager to get our drunk asses up the stairs.” You said, bewildered at the thought as Jimin only shrugged with a grin.

You were drunk, but you weren’t that drunk.

“C’mon, I’m getting tired.” You tried to lift yourself off his body, only to falter slightly on your way up as you tried to complete the action too fast.

Jimin easily caught you in his arms even in his altered state, chuckling slightly as you gripped his bicep for support, subtly feeling up the muscle he’d built there with no shame present in your buzzed mentality.

“Hm, these are nice.” You commented as you squeezed the hard tissue again, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter at your unabashed praise.

“Thank you, dove.” He replied, the pink on his cheeks from the alcohol increasing at your words. Before you could make any other moves on his body, he began slowly guiding you to sit up with him before rising to his feet again with a grunt.

Offering his hand down to you, you missed it twice, the vodka messing with your head more than you’d like to admit as you finally gripped onto his fingers. With his opposite hand resting on the railing beside him for support, (he’d learned his lesson last time that it was hard to get up from the ground with seven shots down the hatch), he pulled you up from the ground with little to no help from your weakened body, pulling you into his side with an accomplished sigh.

Softly smiling over at you, he squeezed your hand in his, lifting them together and wordlessly throwing your arm around his shoulder.

Even though he had consumed just as much alcohol as you did, he found it much easier to level out his swaying than you, speech significantly clearer despite the lack of difference between the amounts of alcohol you’d drank.

You’d always been a lightweight.

After pointing this fact out, Jimin giggled fondly once again, making you grin over at him as you studied his face through your bleariness.

“You’re worse than Hobi-hyung.” He pointed out with a teasing nudge of his elbow, his words causing you to gasp in genuine offense as the man beside you laughed once more.

“Okay, my little leightweight. Let’s go.”

Although the next few sets were challenging, somehow you finally managed to reach the boys’ floor, both of you giggling and stumbling all the way to their front door with cheeks aflame from both your alcohol intake and intense struggle up the stairs.

Propping you up between the door frame and his shoulder, Jimin raised his other arm to pound on the door, repeating the set several times before whining when his knocks went unanswered for the umpteenth time.

“Fuck, can they not hear us?”

“I think the whole city can hear us.” You commented absentmindedly, eyes widening in pleasant surprise as Jimin leaned into you again with drunken giggles escaping his mouth. With a sigh, he reached into his jean pocket for his phone to dial what he thought to be Namjoon’s number.

With the number immediately going to voicemail, Jimin’s shoulders deflated a bit, tapping his fingers against the screen to send a message to the groupchat.

“Is it possible that they have the world’s biggest earplugs?” He huffed, banging his fist against the door again before his eyes widended when he heard the sound of shuffling from the other side.

Knocking his fist harder against the wood, Jimin determinedly kept up his actions, you leaning your head on his shoulder while chuckling at the man’s antics. You’d surely hear about this from Yoongi in the morning.

“Jimin?”

The deep voice from behind the door was immediately recognizable of Taehyung’s familiar drawl, a slight rasp in his uncertainty of who the hell was banging down the door so late - well, early - in the morning.

“Taetae! Hey!” Jimin shouted into the peephole, said man whipping the door open almost immediately to shush him, swollen eyes giving away that he’d most likely been in a deep sleep when you two had begun your ruckus outside the door.

“Shh, Jimin. People are trying to sleep.” He whispered, both you and Jimin nodding wide-eyed as you stifled grins at the parent-like scolding.

Taehyung looked over you both for a moment, sighing at the dirt from the stairs imprinted on Jimin’s black jeans. He could only imagine how you two had gotten home.

“You guys are idiots,” he shook his head, “And you should’ve called me. Come on.” He ordered, one hand cemented to the top of Jimin’s spine and the other one laid on the back of your shoulder to guide you both into the apartment.

“Is everyone sleeping?” Jimin whispered, Taehyung humming in confirmation as he led you both down the silent hallway, every single bedroom door shut snugly as the members slept behind them.

Your hand was still miraculously caught up in your boyfriends even as Tae pushed you both to the door of Jimin’s bedroom, fingers locked around each other to ground yourselves even when the world around you was spinning so intensely.

Jimin’s steps were slower than normal, as were yours due to the amount of alcohol flowing through your bloodstream, and his movements were stalled as he approached his door. Wrapping his fingers around the doorknob took concentration and extra effort, but he managed to twist the door open, almost falling flat on his face when the door gave way beneath his hold.

“Christ, Jimin.” Taehyung swore under his breath, grabbing the man underneath his bicep to pick him up to stand on his own two feet again. Jimin only breathed a chuckle in response as you bit down on your lip, Taehyung’s obvious frustration with your drunken foolishness making the situation much funnier than it’d already be.

“C’mon, guys. Keep it movin’.” Tae ushered you both in front of him, giggling all the way as you let yourselves be blindly guided by his hands.

“Tae, I’m really trusting you right now. I don’t know where the bed-” you paused suddenly as you bumped into an object with your thigh, reaching your hands out to find the plush mattress beneath your touch, “hey, that was fast.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but let out a snort at your words, shaking his head as he directed you two to the bed, pulling his eyebrows together with a whine when Jimin began audibly unzipping his jeans.

“Yah, don’t strip with me in here!”

Grunting in response, Jimin tossed his pants on the ground, meeting your eyes with a laugh as you crawled onto the bed.

“I’m not sleeping in jeans, you freak.” He mumbled, sass rolling off his tongue even in his now increasingly sleepy state, Taehyung scoffing in response yet nevertheless grabbing a blanket from the end of the bed to cover you both in.

With a directing nod of his friend’s head, Jimin collapsed onto the bed with a chuckle, you following the man as he tugged on your hand to pull your body on top of him. You both sighed in content as Taehyung threw the blanket over your bodies, the air conditioning in the room causing a brisk chill to raise bumps on your arms.

“Do you guys need water, pain meds?” Taehyung asked, pausing at the bottom of the mattress to answer any requests from the two groggy bodies in front of him.

“No, we’re great.” Jimin sang, laugh erupting out of his nose as he glanced up to view his friends thoroughly annoyed expression.

“Sorry we woke you up, Taehyungie.” He said, the pout evident in his voice as you hummed against his shirt.

“Yeah, sorry Tae.”

“Mm. Are you guys going to be okay in here if I leave you?” He asked, leaning his palms on the end of the bed as you both nodded your heads.

“We’re good. So good.” Jimin slurred, making you giggle as you leaned up to plant a kiss to his hot cheek. His eyes sparkled at your affection, squeezing you to his body with a grin.

Jokingly rolling his eyes, Taehyung stood up straight, striding over to your bedside light to flick it off with his finger.

“Alright, goodnight guys. Happy birthday, dear.” He added, you only humming in response before snuggling in to Jimin further. The sound of the door shutting was obviously softened for the other sleeping members’ benefits, Taehyung’s padding footsteps barely heard as he made his way down the hall to escape back into his own bedroom.

“Did you have a nice birthday?” Jimin whispered after a beat of silence, glazed over eyes meeting yours in the dark as you carefully lifted your head, the pounding already minorly setting in.

“I did. I had a very tipsy night.” You admitted, closing your eyes when his fingers stroked a few strands of hair back behind your ear with a fond chuckle.

“Good. You deserve it.”

Leaning up, he placed his pointer finger beneath your chin, pressing his lips to your cheek, over to the tip of your nose, your other cheek, and finally landing with a sweet peck to your lips.

“Happiest of tipsy birthdays to you.”

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fluff #park jimin fanfiction #park jimin x reader #park jimin fluff #park jimin imagines #park jimin imagine #jimin x reader #jimin fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin imagines #jimin imagine #writing #fluff #x reader #reader insert #bts

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folkloreguk · 4 years ago

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❥ My Sweet Evil Heart (C.Chanhee)

A/N: I wrote this as part of an angel/demon collab for The Boyz! You can find the masterlist HERE. This was really fun to write and I got to live out my alternate universe dream in which I'm a detective...I hope you like it, I'm always welcome to any form of feedback!

genre: demon!Chanhee, detective!reader, angst, fluff, reader is constantly sleep deprived, Chanhee is the sweetest demon ever

synopsis: You, a highly respected detective in your department, are investigating a case of a very strange demon who seems hesitant to do evil...but can you trust someone who is supposed to be the personification of wickedness?

words: ~ 10.6k

Have you ever met someone deeply unhappy? Someone who seems to, at all times, be fighting a war inside of themselves? Have you ever felt empathy for somebody, even though they tested you, over and over, as if the worst part inside of them was trying to make them lose you on purpose? Did you hold on and never stop believing in them? Or did you say something to drive them away, making them think they would only hurt you in the process of you trying to make them see clearer?

This is the story of a demon, whose every cell demurred at his evil nature. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and start with the basics.

Being one of the head detectives at the local police station was not an easy-going, nor an amusing job. Whilst working on serious cases, lacking proper sleep was not an uncommon occurrence for you, and in some instances, self-care came up short until the mystery had been solved and the guilty ones were locked away. Every case pulled you in and swallowed you whole, keeping you deeply invested for days and nights until your brain felt like it had turned to mush and your body worked on autopilot, until you functioned a little like a highly intelligent zombie. And yet, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else in your life. The thrill was close to an obsession, and seeing justice being served thanks to your work was more addicting than any drug could ever be to you.

Most crimes in your world were committed by demons, of course. They were your worst enemies, the monsters you saw in your nightmares and the reason you never strolled down a street without a gun by your hip. It wasn’t forbidden for them to walk the earth, so long as they kept to themselves. Their evil nature made it almost impossible for them to uphold these terms, though. You wished you could lock them all away in some putrid prison cell, or better yet, send them back to where they crawled out from originally. But the law couldn’t convict beings before they had done anything wrong. So, it was on you to make sure you kept an eye on the sinister beings, figure out what they were up to and stop them before they could actually hurt somebody. Like that morning, when you were called to a liquor store to investigate a break-in.

“My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, I am the lead investigator,” you greeted the store owner with a handshake upon arrival. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“I came here this morning at around 7 to open up the store. When I got out of my car, I saw the broken glass of the window,” he explained.

“What was taken from inside the store?” you inquired further.

“That’s the weird thing. Nothing is missing from inside,” he said.

“We might just be dealing with vandalism,” you thought out loud. “Do you have security cameras?”

He did, and so you went along with him to the back of the store. It was true, the interior of the shop seemed completely untouched. You suspected whoever had done this had never even intentioned on entering. There was a college campus not too far from the store, and you recalled countless times you had witnessed careless vandalism done by some intoxicated students during a Friday night. It was a very human-like crime. Demons weren’t known to do things by halves. Their crimes were usually the go-big-or-go-home-type of crimes. But then, when you watched the security footage, you were stunned.

At precisely 3:29 am, a dark figure appeared in front of the window. They lifted their arms, swinging a baseball bat against the glass. And against your speculation, they did climb through the hole in the window. With no mask or disguise whatsoever, the demon man looked right into the camera in the corner of the room. The abyss of darkness in his pitch black eyes was unmistakable. He looked around, as if he was debating on whether he should have done more, but then, to your utter confusion, spun around on his heel and climbed right back out the window.

You assured the store owner you would be looking into this case. With nothing left to do, you headed back to the police station. You had taken the security footage with you, and the moment you arrived in your office, you played it on your computer screen. Over and over - only puzzling you more, with each rerun you saw. You worried this might only be a warning. Not seldom had you been a witness to demons playing with their prey, feeding off the fear of innocent souls. Was this one indulging in one of those little twisted games? Right away, you uploaded the demon’s face onto the database for criminals, even if vandalism didn’t compare to the serious allegations that stood against other faces on that list. While you turned your attention to other cases, his features wouldn’t leave your mind. Even when you left your office at night, he was still the most prominent person in your memory.

By the time you began your walk to your home, the sun had disappeared. You couldn’t help it, even if technically you could finish work earlier, your desire to solve your assigned cases was always higher. Had you just walked home at 5 pm, you were sure to end up on your computer at home, researching and digging around on the web to discover possible clues. This way, at least you had all resources you would need at your office at the police station.

Now, in the dark, the streets were rather abandoned, most shops had already closed, and the moon dimly cast light through the clouds. Those conditions were what made it a breeze for you to notice your shadow. The figure had been following you for 5 minutes now. Judging by how carelessly loud their steps sounded and by their not-so subtle choices of hiding spots, you could tell this wasn’t something they had practice in. Purposely, you didn’t turn around, so they wouldn’t realize you had caught on to them a while ago. Instead, only a minute or so from your home, you took a turn left into an abandoned alleyway. Your hand was on the gun in your belt.

Just as you had stepped into the alley, you turned. He was right behind you. With dark orbs glaring and teeth snarling he came at you, knife in hand. Your eyes widened – you recalled his face vividly – as you took in the situation in the blink of an eye. After all, you had watched the security tape of him breaking into the liquor store countless times only hours ago. But you had the upper hand from the very moment you had spun around. His build wasn’t particularly strong, but you knew you should never underestimate demons. You grabbed his shoulders and along with him, your body crashed against the red brick wall to your left. He struggled against your grip, but his determined and feisty expression was the by far the most intimidating part about him. His face was inches from yours but looking into the sort of darkness that were demon’s eyes did nothing to you. Your hand was around his wrist with the knife – which he was aggressively trying to bring down on you – but only at first.

Because suddenly, something uncommon occurred. So uncommon, in fact, that not a single cell in your body could believe it. He willingly dropped the blade. It hit the asphalt, the metallic sound echoing in your ears. He relaxed his arm in your iron grip. Demons never gave up. They fought until you had forcefully brought them to the ground or done worse to them. Their ironic god-complex and evilness didn’t allow them to step away from a fight – until this one had come along, apparently. And then, as if his behavior hadn’t already stunned you enough, he did the unthinkable.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Without a doubt you thought you had misheard him. Swiftly, you pulled your gun out of your belt and pointed it at his face. One thing you knew. You weren’t going to play along in his little games. In panic, he rose his hands, showing defeat.

“Quit playing games, devil’s son,” you hissed. “What is it you’re trying to achieve here? You’re sorry? For what?”

He was hesitant. With every second, your curiosity only grew. Either, he was a skilled actor or…you had no idea what else it could’ve been about him.

“I almost killed you. That’s what I’m sorry for,” he said. “Does that get me a prison sentence?”

Your eye twitched because this didn’t seem right at all.

“You broke into a shop and attacked me, but then stopped out of your free will,” you assessed the situation. “You’ll most likely get away with a fine and your name in our register.”

If you had been awaiting an evil grin or any sort of enjoyment in his face, you’d be waiting endlessly. If anything, he seemed to be…disappointed?

“But you’re a cop, right?” he said. “You can lock me up, can’t you?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? You won’t be locked up if you don’t commit a crime severe enough. As much as I hate it, considering you demons are running free, it’s the law,” you said.

“You don’t get it,” he said. And he was right, you really had no idea. “I should be locked up. You need to get me to jail before I hurt somebody.”

His face was dead serious, but you didn’t want to believe a single word. How could you, when your daily life consisted of hunting down his kind, because all they brought upon the earth was chaos and death?

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” you said, unimpressed.

“I will tell you anything you want to hear,” he said. “If you bring me to a police station. You guys have these lie detectors, don’t you? I will take a test if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

So, that was how half an hour later you still hadn’t returned at home, but rather found yourself back at the police station. Almost everyone had gone home by now, so you took the liberty to choose the biggest interrogation room available. A few minutes and he was sitting in front of you, hands in handcuffs and his body connected to the lie detector.

“Okay, here’s how this works. I’ll start by asking some simple questions, and then we’ll get to the bottom of whatever your intentions are,” you explained.

“Alright. Go ahead,” he said. This was your first time seeing a demon take this sort of test. Usually, you couldn’t be bothered because you knew all they did was lie whilst smiling you in the face.

“What’s your name?”

“Choi Chanhee.”

“Where were you born?”

“In hell.”

“Did you break into a liquor store last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you intend on killing me tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Is that your definite answer?”

“…No.”

“How come both of your last two answers are lies?” you asked. “You didn’t intend on killing me, but yes is your definite answer?”

“I can’t stop the evil in me but I’m trying,” he said. You were stunned. The answer was the most truthful of them all.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I was never like the others since I came to earth. I’ve never felt a rush like they do, causing mischief and hurting humans. I don’t belong. It’s as if there was a demon inside of me, but it’s not controlling all of me, do you understand?” he said.

“I’m not sure, but go on,” you said.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody or destroy things. But on some days, I’m walking down the street and my body starts following the devil’s orders instead. I usually snap out of it quickly and stop myself. That’s why you’re still alive,” he explained.

“You’re telling me you’re some sort of good demon?” you asked. “Why don’t you go back to hell, if you’re struggling so much on earth?”

“I hate it there,” he said. “And either way, I’m banned from there forever.”

Your head raised as you stared at him.

“Banned?” you asked.

“I stopped a bunch of demons from killing a woman once,” he said. “Safe to say they weren’t happy to hear that, back at home. I couldn’t go back, even if I wanted to.”

“Can you tell me the name of the woman?” you asked. And he did. All this time, he really had been telling the truth. When you searched up the woman’s name in the computer, it only confirmed your suspicion. She really had been under attack when an unidentified person had interrupted and saved her life.

“I can tell you names of demons,” he said. “If you do me the favor of locking me up, I can sell out everyone I know about.”

You massaged the sides of your head and sighed. This guy really was one of a kind.

“I already told you, I can’t put you in jail for something you didn’t do,” you said. “That’s against the law, and then it’ll be me who ends up behind bars instead of you. I’ll have to let you go.”

“What if I mess up?” he said. The amounts of firsts you were experiencing in the timespan of an hour were giving you a headache. Never had you felt compassion for a demon before. But you were only human, and when you noticed the genuine concern and insecurity in his soft voice, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“How long have you been on earth for?” you asked.

“I don’t know, a few years, I guess?” he said.

“And in those few years, which of your deeds would you rate the most criminal out of all?” you asked. Any other demon would have been able to give you multiple answers, one more vicious than the other. He, on the other hand, took his time and even when he answered, he didn’t sound at all sure.

“I’ve broken into a house before, destroyed a car window and one time I stole a dog,” he confessed with his head tilted towards the floor.

“What happened to the dog?”

“I…gave it back,” he said. A laughter erupted from your throat against your will. In a friendly manner, you pat his shoulder before retrieving the keys to his handcuffs.

“Trust me, you’ll be just fine out there,” you said. “Whatever it is you’re doing to stop yourself from being evil, it’s working. I will let you go now."

Even though he wasn’t happy with your answer, he knew he had no choice but to comply. As you walked him through the hallways towards the exit of the station, you could only think of one thing: your beloved bed. Not only your body but especially your brain was drained from energy. You desperately needed a refill by getting a good night’s sleep.

“You’re the first person who’s been really kind to me,” he said, as you held the door open for him. The night air was cool, and you quickly zipped up your jacket to your chin.

“You gave me no reason not to be,” you replied.

“I almost stabbed you,” he said, bluntly.

“Almost.”

“For most people, me being a demon is reason enough to loathe me.”

“Well I guess I’m not most people,” you said. His smile was gentle, but his black eyes would always give him away. “I’ll be here at the station every day, if you have any concerns or need somebody to consult. But right now, all I want is my bed.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Good night,” you said, before you parted ways. Once more, you journeyed home. He remained on your mind until the moment you slipped off to dreamland that night.

The days passed without a trace of him. You followed your routine, but one thing you couldn’t help. You simply had to tell every person who worked with you about the changed demon you had met. No one really wanted to believe you. It was kind of understandable. Some thought you were testing their skills, seeing if they could figure out you were lying. Others went as far as to suspect your lack of sleep had given you hallucinations. But you didn’t let it go. And after all, you were a highly respected member of the police force. Some said they wanted to meet this demon gentleman, as they had renamed him.

But then you were called to a brand new homicide investigation and all of the jokes at the station were blown away by the intensity and buzz the case brought with it. You had a murder to solve. There was no place for sweet demon men in any part of your brain. Not for now. And as always, you slipped into old habits – staying up all night, living on coffee and quick meals – the toxic behavior was almost inescapable. Your fellow detectives tried their best to keep you healthy and most importantly, sane. They took you with them to get salad for lunch, invited you over for game nights (a futile attempt at giving you a break) and told you to go to sleep on time. After all, they needed your brain to function at full capacity for the case. You knew people were relying on your knowledge, and you weren’t doubting your capabilities. But a highly intelligent zombie was still a zombie. And so it happened that one Thursday night your boss sent you home. Not because you weren’t doing a good job – rather for of the opposite reason.

“You are allowed back at the station when you’ve caught a full night’s sleep. Do what it takes to take care of yourself,” your boss had said. Her tone displayed as much strictness as her eyes showed concern. Truth be told, you were too exhausted to even argue against her order. That’s when you knew. You really needed a rest. You dragged your body home.

“Hello sweetheart,” you greeted your pet bird, who chirped excitedly when you set foot into your apartment. “Guess what. I’m home early.”

As much as you wanted to drop into a slumber right away, your stomach growled. And you weren’t in the mood to wake up half-starved. As you prepared some left-overs from the fridge, you heard your bird call from the living room. “Peek-a-boo!” he sang. It caught your attention. He only played this game with you – when you were outside in your small garden and he was watching you through the window. So who exactly was he talking to, now?

You picked up a knife, because as a detective it was practically your job to be paranoid, and tiptoed into the living room. It would be harder for an intruder to spot you in the dark, so you pushed the light switch. Slowly, you advanced to the window and gently pulled the curtains aside. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw the figure standing between the trees. They didn’t seem to be hiding, if anything they were lazily resting their back against the garden fence. Maybe they weren’t aware you were watching them. Bold of them to assume they could intimidate you by acting so nonchalant. You cracked the window open slightly.

“If you don’t leave my property within the next ten seconds, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” you announced. The figure flinched. The moment he stepped into the moonlight and raised his arms, you remembered his face.

“Choi Chanhee?” You opened the terrasse door and stepped outside.

“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked, eyes glued to the knife in your hands. Quickly, you lowered your hand.

“What are you doing here?” you asked instead of answering his question.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted.

“And so you thought creeping around in a police woman’s backyard was an appropriate thing to do? Wait…have you been stalking me?” you asked. You should have cut back on the sharp tone, but you felt half-asleep and this was the last thing you needed. Plus, the immanent realization hit you, that you had not noticed him at all. You had been so caught up in your work that you had not recognized a demon lingering around your home address, watching you. It hurt your pride a little – and could have ended very differently, had it been a more malovent demon than the one standing in front of you. This one looked terrified, kneading his hands nervously.

“I thought you wouldn’t be upset with me…that maybe you would understand. Because you’ve been the only one who’s listened to me. I’m just trying to find a purpose,” he said, “And my head tells me you’re the right direction.”

Demons. They’ve always had a fondness for the dramatic. But his words tore at your heart strings. His behavior resembled a child who had done wrong and was in the process of being scolded.

“Do you have no home?” you asked, softening your voice.

“I’ve lived with other demons. But they don’t want me there, anymore,” he said. For obvious reasons, you thought. Your head was racing. There was no way you could leave him standing there in the cold. But letting a demon into your home sounded like you must have had a death wish. It’s not like you didn’t have enough space, though. With an extra guest bedroom that nobody had ever used before, he would be just fine. There was no excuse. You cursed your parents for making you get a bigger apartment “In case you got married and had children soon.” You never know what could happen, they had said. And how wrong they had been, but how right they had been on that last part.

“Would you say you’re a tidy person?” you asked. A gigantic yawn came over you, and once again your stomach grumbled.

“What? I mean…I think so?” he said.

“Are you hungry?” You were in disbelief. Maybe it was the zombie in you that had a heart so soft, it took pity on a demon.

“I’m starving,” he said.

And that was how you came to have dinner with a demon. Spoiler alert: It wouldn’t be the last time. You ate quietly, trying hard to fight tiredness but it was no use. Afterwards, you showed him the room he could stay in.

“How do I make this up to you?” he asked.

“We’ll think about that another time, alright?” you said, “I need to sleep now. I’ve got an unsolved murder case waiting on me tomorrow.”

That night, you locked your bedroom door and slept with your gun on your nightstand. Just in case. Even though you were almost fully convinced the demon in the bedroom across the hall was more harmless than a five-year-old, he was still a demon.

When you woke up and saw your boss’ message on your phone, you couldn’t believe it. She wanted you to stay at home for the day. Apparently, you needed the rest and she had no interest in getting into trouble for overworking you (which she obviously wasn’t, you were the one doing this to yourself). When you walked down the stairs, you had almost forgotten about the previous night. It felt a little like it had all just been one wild fever dream – that was, until you spotted the demon sitting on your sofa, your pet bird on his shoulder.

“I let him out, I hope that was okay,” he said. You were dumbfounded. “Listen, I just wanted to say…thank you. Tell me whatever you need me to do and I’ll get it done for you.”

You wanted to go to work. But you knew he would be no help making that possible. Your mind was already wandering off to your case, the tips of your fingers burning with anticipation to search the internet for clues. Your grumbling belly interrupted your eagerness.

“Um…you could go to the grocery store for me?” you asked.

You went back to work the next day. Unsure of what to do, you decided to keep your demon housemate a secret for now. The other detectives would have probably written you off as insane, and you needed them to take you seriously. To be fair, maybe you were a little crazy. But he had been really good on the first day. Only one incident, which involved him dropping an egg on the kitchen floor, stood out to you. Of course, that could happen to anyone. But any other person would not have apologized in the way that he did. Normal people wouldn’t have acted so guilty, had it been an accident. But as long as his malice remained to that extent, you could live with it. You almost laughed at the idea of him purposely watching the egg roll off the counter and not doing anything.

He sure was strange. But little did you know, his egg-dropping shananigans were only the beginning of his uncontrollable little pranks he would pull on you.

Once he let your bird fly out the window. When you came home you discovered him outside, talking to your bird, begging him to come back inside. Little did he know, all it took was a whistle and a few treats and you had him sitting on your shoulder, ready to go back inside. One night you returned home to find him staring at the ceiling in the dining room, a kitchen towel in his hand. When you asked him what he was trying to achieve there, he told you there was a mosquito sitting above him.

“So, why don’t you kill it?” you asked. He looked shocked.

“Kill it?” he asked, “We should probably just shoo it outside.”

That’s when you knew. Choi Chanhee wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. All those times you had worried about leaving him home alone with your bird vanished in an instant as you laughed.

“You’re right. Killing is one of the worst sins. But sometimes, especially when it comes to mosquitoes, you don’t need to worry about any consequences. If anything, I’ll be grateful,” you assured him.

Another instance made you think maybe you had been too quick to judge him as harmless. When you walked into your bathroom in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you almost jumped out of your skin. A red substance stuck to your mirror in what seemed to be random shapes. On impulse, you called his name. On second look, you realized what he had done. The red was merely ketchup, and the random shapes weren’t so random, but they spelled “meeting at 2 pm”. When Chanhee appeared in the doorframe, he already wore his sorry expression.

“What did you think you were doing here?” you said. “You know where the post-it notes are!”

“I- He- The demon in me wanted to scare you…I’m so sorry,” he said. It was difficult to be mad at him when he was so sweet. You had, after all, told him to remind you of your meeting you had that day. He was so easy to forgive, too. Whenever he went to buy groceries, he returned with a bouquet of flowers, and after he had figured out your favorite candy, he made sure you never ran out of your supply. You liked being alone, but suddenly it felt nice to have someone waiting for you at home. A warm sensation filled your heart whenever he asked you about your day during dinner.

Even if after dinner you had to argue with him as if he was your son, because the demon in him had decided to take on the form of a teenage boy who was too lazy to take out the trash. You were still seated at the table, rolling your eyes at the demon’s horrible attempt at being evil.

“Don’t make me ask you one more time,” you threatened him, although you didn’t know what you would have done had he continued to argue against you. Only when he reached for the knife that he had already put down tidily on his plate, your eyes widened. His knuckles were white around the metal and you leaned back instinctively. Your gun was still in your belt – you had sat down for dinner straight after returning home – but you didn’t want to use it. Not on him.

“Chanhee,” you spoke in a calm tone. His face was unreadable. He wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, his gaze was glued onto the blade in his hand, staring blankly. His eyes blinked, almost robotically. Something changed in his demeanor then. There was a tremble in the hand that was clutching the knife. It grew more uneasy by each passing moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you kept your eyes trained on him, trusting your reflexes.

“Fine,” he suddenly said in a grumpy tone. Then he dropped the knife. The metallic sound rang in your ears for seconds afterward. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding on to, as you watched him get up and retrieve the full trash bag from under the sink. You had been sleeping with your bedroom door unlocked for weeks. Even though it pained you, that night you locked your door again.

At 3:28 am you awoke to the sound of breaking glass. You allowed yourself to yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes for just a moment, then you were on your feet. Gun in hand, you opened your door. Across the hall, the door to Chanhee’s room stood ajar. Light came from downstairs.

“Chanhee?” you called quietly. No answer. But your ears picked up shuffling and the sound of shards of glass being moved around. You approached slowly, trying not to give yourself away. Then you heard the quiet sobs. Your arm with the gun dropped to your side when you stepped into the kitchen.

He was sitting on the floor like he was one of the shattered pieces of glass himself. When he saw you, he flinched and tried to dry away his tears. But it was no use. They kept coming, and you had already seen them either way.

“I dropped it on purpose,” he said, referring to the broken glass. Another sob went through his body, making your chest ache at the sight of him. “I’m sorry.”

“I have nine more of those. It’s alright,” you assured him. Gently, you sat down by his side. You put your arms around his hunched frame. He stiffened at first but calmed his muscles after a moment and let you hold him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you said. Whatever it was that was hurting him so much, you’d be here to fight it off for him.

“I can’t stop the evil in me,” he cried. His weeps seeped through your skin and tugged at your organs. It felt like a thousand tiny, sharp needles in your heart.

“It’s a part of you. It’ll never fully go away. But look at you, you’re doing such a good job holding it inside of you,” you whispered. He shuddered.

“I tried to kill you,” he stated. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so kind. You do all this for me, and I tried to kill you.”

“But you didn’t,” you said. “And that’s what counts. We all have urges inside of us…but it’s what we end up doing that truly counts and makes us who we are.”

“But it’s so hard,” he cried. His face was in the crook of your neck as he sniffled. The small teardrops that touched your skin felt like ice. “And all I do is bother you. I’m an inconvenience. Why don’t you just lock me up with the other demons? Why give me another chance every time I mess up?”

You couldn’t believe he would hate himself so much. Chanhee had more compassion than a lot of the humans you knew had. Some days he sat and pet your bird for hours just because it made him happy, he always had money on him to give to the homeless people in front of the grocery store and he almost cried thinking he forgot to pay for an item at the store (which you had obviously paid for).

“How could you even compare yourself to other demons?” you said. “If you want, I will take you in to work with me sometime. Then you’ll see the atrocities others commit. Even among humans, you’d still be sorted into the best of the best. I believe in you and that you will do good.”

He only sobbed harder at what you had said, and you felt the need to pull him in just a little tighter. You softly rocked your bodies in an attempt to calm him down.

“I would fall apart without you.” Between the hiccups and tears his words sounded like a broken confession, but that’s why they hit so hard.

“You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” you whispered, lips right by his ear. Your hands were in his hair, stroking his head as if you could pour all your emotions into this one gesture. What else could you do to show him you would never abandon him the way his demon people had? And it seemed to do the trick. His fists that had been clutching your shirt loosened up and his sorrowful crying turned into mellow breathing on your skin.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked. “Let’s get you back to sleep. Tomorrow things will be better.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well for three days,” he said. “But I need to clean this up first.”

He let go of you and started to pick up shards of glass. There was still a haggard expression on him, and his cheeks were painted red and tear stained. And yet he was determined.

“Let me do this,” you said, touching his arm. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. Go to bed, Chanhee.”

This time, he didn’t argue. But his good behavior didn’t stop the apologetic, almost battered look at you. He knew you would be by his side no matter what – but what he needed most was his own forgiveness. And you could tell by the way he spoke about himself that it would take a while until he was ready to accept himself as he was.

You heard his heavy steps on the stairs as he walked to his room. Quickly, you gathered the biggest shards of glass and then used a hand brush to collect the tiny pieces. This wasn’t what you had signed up for when you had taken him in. You thought you’d have to argue with him daily and that you’d miss having your personal space and privacy. You knew it would be new, living with another person after living alone for so long. But nothing could have prepared you for the way Chanhee had swept you off your feet with his adorable charms. You didn’t need to fake excitement when you came home to him, nor did you ever have to force yourself to tell him about your day or have any conversation with him, for that matter. He was truly enchanting with the way he made you care so much. Especially when you had assumed all demons were your sworn enemies.

When you finally dragged your tired body upstairs, you softly pushed open the door to his room, only to see him lying wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. “Even though you’re so exhausted?”

“No,” he spoke. Even his voice made no attempt at hiding the sleepiness. His look was pleading. “Can you please stay with me…just for a little while?”

There was no way you could say no to his lovely gaze and messy hair and outstretched arms. So, you crawled in next to him under the covers. Your faces were inches apart. The last time you had been looking into a demon’s eyes this close-up he had been lying face-up and dead on the side of a road. Those eyes had been lifeless, and yet you felt like they had still held so much ferociousness, even in death. Now you only saw concern and genuine care in the black orbs across from you. You admired his softly sculpted face. It was one that seemed like it would much rather belong to an angel.

“You’ve been working so much,” he whispered. “You must be much more tired than me.”

“I’m used to it,” you said, “I enjoy my work because I’m doing it to help others.”

“You’re a good person,” he stated. There was something in his voice you couldn’t make out. Regret? Admiration?Maybe it was both.

“So are you, Chanhee,” you said. Without second thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek. He didn’t flinch nor pull away. Instead, his pretty lips curled into a smile as he closed his eyes, ready to finally drift off to dreamland.

From that night on he seemed to improve a little, day by day. No more breaking things or having to argue about simple house chores. It occurred to you almost as if he had turned into something more human – so much that you dared to take him to work with you. People there had found the idea of your new demon friend strange, and you were sure some would take more than a little convincing to let down their guard around him. You couldn’t blame them for the prejudices – you had once been the same, after all. But Chanhee was okay with it, even when you had explained to him that some people might hate him, just because of his black eyes and what they meant to people. He had lived years of receiving that sort of treatment. Nonetheless, it pained you to think about how used he was to it. It took bravery and thick skin to walk into a police station the way he did that day. He was fascinated, looking behind the scenes. Perhaps you found it amusing how alarmed everyone was when they first laid eyes on him at the station. His ability to turn around their views of his species within twenty seconds or less was nothing but astonishing. He very willingly took it upon himself to walk down to the nearest coffee shop and order ten cups, also earning him the sympathy from the last few sceptics. When you were deep in conversation with another detective, discussing the possible whereabouts of a highly wanted demon, Chanhee suddenly interrupted you.

“I know an underground club where they like to go after…committing crimes,” he said. “Every demon in this city knows about it.”

At that moment you realized his full potential and what good he could really do. That was, if he was ready to sacrifice his people. But he just had – without even blinking. He could be an immense help to you.

“Young man I can see you have a bright future, should you ever decide to join the police force,” said your boss from across the room. Seemed like she had the same idea as you. Chanhee only smiled shyly but couldn’t hide the glint of pride in his eyes.

The following days you instantly made arrangements to get Chanhee an interview with the head of the station. He had been scared, at first.

“What if the other people there hate me?” he suspected.

“They might make assumptions about you in their heads, you know, because you’re a demon. They only know demons to be evil. But the moment they realize how good of a person you are, I promise they’ll change their mind,” you said. “You’ll be precious to us, and if you want to do good, the police is where you can be the most helpful. You’ll change lives, maybe even save people.”

“Yes, I want to help,” he said. “I’m done with my kind.”

“I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow,” you assured him. “If you’re too anxious to come in to the station, maybe she’ll allow you to work from home, from my office here. This is just a try, okay? If you really enjoy this work, you’ll have to learn and earn your badge.”

The way he looked at you filled you with so much pride. He seemed to have found some hope. Like he could finally spend his time in a productive and truly good manner. You couldn’t wait to see how he would do.

A tiring day and many discussions with higher-ups at workplace later, you returned at your home, late at always. Your fingers tingled with excitement and you wanted to yell for Chanhee the moment you walked through your door. You had managed to score an internship for him at your station. He was allowed to start as early as the following week. As you walked up the stairs, following the shuffling noise you heard, you imagined his face when you told him the news. You knew he’d be ecstatic. His smile would make you so happy, and you almost grinned at the mere thought of it. The noises were coming out of your office.

“Hi, Chanhee. Guess what my boss-,” you started. Then you fell speechless. Paper was scattered all over the floor. Drawers stood wide open. The orderly sorted piles of case files you had been working on were dispersed into every corner of the small room. Photos and pieces of paper were falling out of the folders. And in midst of it all stood Chanhee.

“Y/N- I’m so-,” he said, helpless.

“Don’t,” you said. Every ounce of excitement was gone from your voice, replaced by an ice cold tone you didn’t know you had in you. He flinched, but you couldn’t keep in what you had to say. “You’re impossible. I can’t fucking believe this! These are real cases, Chanhee! I’m trying to save real people here! This isn’t some broken mirror or a spilled cup of water. I can look past a shattered glass, but this is too much…I honestly thought you were getting better…”

Somewhere you knew you were being too harsh. But your job was your entire reason for existing. This was your life mission, laid out in front of you as if a hurricane had rampaged through the room. It would take days for you to rearrange the files. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find the correct places for each piece of paper.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking because he was about to cry.

“I don’t want to see you right now. Please get out. I need to clean this up and you can’t help me with this,” you said, trying hard not to scream out of frustration. Your eyes were already scanning the floor. You had no idea where to even start. With low-hanging shoulders and teary eyes that were threatening to spill over, Chanhee slipped past you. He granted you one more look before he scurried out of the office like a frightened animal.

Even though your stomach was grumbling from starvation and you could barely stay awake – as always – you needed to get some of the cleaning done. Now. Or you would go insane. Plus, you needed time away from Chanhee. While you collected the paper from every inch of the wooden floor, guilt slowly started to nag at you. You had never raised your voice at him to this extent. And he was sensitive. It wasn’t his fault, that’s what you always told him when he blamed himself for messing things up. He knew that. You cursed at yourself. How could you be so impulsive? All too well you knew how he felt about his demon half. You were supposed to be there for him, to tell him he was doing a good job and to make sure he didn’t beat himself up. Now you had achieved the complete opposite. A dull ache in your chest accompanied your hungry stomach.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. In a haze, you stepped down the stairs and to the door. You needed to apologize to Chanhee. When you opened the door, a delivery girl from your favorite restaurant stood there, handing you an order. You were puzzled.

“Already payed for,” she checked with a beaming smile, “Enjoy your meal!”

“Thank you,” you said, voice numb. Before you knew it, she had turned on her heel and was on the way back to the car.

“Chanhee! Your food is here,” you shouted, assuming he was the one who had made the order. You got no answer. When you set the bag down on the kitchen table, you saw a note, addressed to you.

Y/N,

Words can’t express how sorry I am about what I’ve done. All my life I only wanted someone to love me. In you, I thought I might have found what I had been searching for all this time. But I messed up. I always do. I drove you away from what we had. I’ve wondered why I always end up disappointing people. Now I know it’s because it’s the only thing I’m truly good at. You deserve someone you can trust blindly, someone who will walk through fire for you, someone who will take a bullet for you. I can’t give you that. I can’t even trust myself. Thank you for giving me a home and for being the most generous person I have ever met. You will always be in my sweet evil heart. Don’t worry about me too much. I will find my way and you will find yours. Who knows, our paths may cross again. I ordered your favorite food. I know you’re always starving when you get home from work. Enjoy it and don’t let it go cold. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight, and don’t forget to take your water bottle with you tomorrow, you left it here this morning.

I’ll hold you in my happiest thoughts forever,

Chanhee

You only snapped out of your motionless state when one single tear dropped down your cheek and onto the note. A heavy blanket of sorrow and regret sunk into your whole body. The emotions seeped through your skin and before you knew it, you were a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. You wanted to take him in your arms and tell him you forgave him. Hell, you had forgiven him minutes after you had yelled at him. You should have gone to him then. Had you only apologized quickly enough, perhaps he’d still be here. Then he’d be eating dinner with you, and although you’d be frustrated, you both wouldn’t be alone.

Your tears fell into your food while you ate it, unable to control your sadness and frustration you had against yourself. They mixed with the shower water as you stood in silence under the hot stream, overthinking everything. Your pillow was wet from the crying as you struggled to fall asleep. Like a broken-hearted zombie you trudged across the hall and into his room. Chanhee’s covers still smelled like him and you hugged them tightly, as if you could hold a piece of him and bring him back that way. But there was nothing you could have done. He had left, and it was alone your fault.

The next day passed like a vivid fever dream. While you were sat in your meeting, you couldn’t possibly focus on the case your team was discussing. Instead, you pondered whether your makeup was able to conceal your puffy face and the dark circles under your eyes. If it was obvious, at least people didn’t seem to point it out. Maybe they were so used to seeing you tired that it would take a lot more than some tiredness and lack of concentration to arise concern. It was the first time in years you really wanted to go home after work. In fact, you couldn’t stand the laughter and good mood at the police station for one more second. All you wanted to do was scream and cry, and seeing people joke around without any idea about your feelings only intensified your desire. Of course, you could have confided in somebody. But you were afraid they would tell you Serves you right or I told you. You don’t think you’d be able to handle those blatant assumptions and the mocking.

Your plan for the night was set: You’d sit in the bathtub for half an hour, then you’d wrap yourself into a human burrito in a blanket and fill your brain with some brutal movie that would make your life seem like it was mere child’s play. But as most things in your life lately, nothing went as planned. Because after only five minutes in the hot tub, your phone rang on the other side of the room. The first time you ignored it. You really tried. But then it rang again, and you looked up to see the caller ID. It was your boss.

You groaned and quickly stood up, not giving up on the prospects of a peaceful night just yet. But then you heard her message – a break-in at a bank, one dead bank employee, five hostages, a possible shoot out. They were calling for back up. And when there was a chance to throw bad guys behind bars, the most inviting bath or an exciting movie suddenly turned dull.

Not fifteen minutes later you had jumped out the bath, gotten dressed in your uniform, taken your gun and ammunition, and were pulling up at the scene your boss had ordered you to. The bank was in the city center, close to the main square. The police team was stationed in a side street. Some of the team had already been sent to the front of the bank, where the police was attempting to make contact with the robbers.

“They’re holding four hostages in the back of the bank. One of them is at the front, right by the glass doors for us to see. The robbers have guns to their heads. If we come closer, they’ll shoot them,” your colleague informed you.

“Demons?” you asked. Against your will, Chanhee appeared in your mind. You wondered how he was doing. Was he hiding out in somebody else’s garden right now? Had he found a bed to sleep in? Then you quickly shook your head. This was not the time for heavy emotions of any kind.

“Yes. Five of them,” your colleague added. You huffed.

“What do they want us to do? Are they demanding anything?” you asked.

“They want us to let them leave with the money,” she said. You grinned bitterly and nodded.

“What about the back entrance?” you asked. You knew the layout of this bank and had been there multiple times in the past.

“That’s our route. Besides the one at the front, the other demons are inside the bank. The entrance isn’t guarded. A team of four will go to the back and try to sneak up on them. When we have a clear line of fire on all the robbers, we’ll take them out at the same time,” she explained.

“Alright,” you nodded, fixing your bulletproof vest around your upper body. You were ready for this. To others, missions like these would have been nerve-wrecking, and you would have been lying if you said you were completely calm. But the adrenaline was already rushing through your body, and fear was something you hadn’t felt since your very first operation.

“All ready?” your colleague asked the other two members of the team who would go into the bank. You received nods and professional expressions. You had all trained together and were used to functioning like one unit. Sticking close together, you rounded the bank, using a side street so the demons wouldn’t see you approaching. In your ear, the voice of your boss was giving orders and checking in on you. The street was dark and devoid of any life except for your team. Multiple of the surrounding streets had been evacuated and shut off to the public. The scene had something straight out of a heist movie. Except this time, the robbers weren’t going to pull of the perfect theft and get away. You would make sure of it.

“We’re almost there,” you said. “Twenty meters to the entrance. Awaiting permission to go inside.”

“You have permission,” your boss spoke over your earpiece. One last look at your teammates, and you were on the move. Sneaking inside soundlessly was easy. The backrooms were all empty. As you passed abandoned offices, you saw knocked over office equipment and paper scattered on the floors. Lamps had been left on and you heard the faint buzzing of a running computer that was most certainly unoccupied. Moving swiftly, you walked along the corridors, guns pointed ahead at all times. Your teamwork was untouchable. One of you made sure the path was clear, then the rest followed.

“You are one room away from the entry hall,” your boss said.

“Understood,” you answered and slowed down your steps. A cat wouldn’t have been able to walk more silently than you did. Now your ears picked up voices. Somebody was crying. There was shuffling of feet on marble.

“Shut up!” a male voice yelled. The crying faded out into muteness. In the dark, you could make out figures. A few countertops and a good distance separated you and your team from the demons and the hostages. You nodded to your colleagues and they understood. The four of you parted ways, moving into the room and taking shelter behind the bank counters. Once again, you checked the situation. Close to you, four hostages sat on the floor. A woman was still crying, and you could tell she was struggling to keep herself quiet. Around them, four demons stood, dressed in black. Their ski masks kept their faces hidden, but their body languages told you enough. They were not to be messed with. By the far entrance, the fifth demon was positioned with the remaining hostage, and you could spot the police cars outside in the town square. From behind your hiding spots, each of your teammates had a clear line of fire on the demons. The fifth one would be taken out from police outside the bank. You were just about to send a signal to your boss to let her know you were in position. Suddenly, the scraping of feet on the floor alarmed you.

“What was that?” one of the demons barked. The noise had come from your colleague beside you, who was now flinching. You had no time to think. No time to complain about her mistake. If you didn’t act now, they were going to close in on you.

You jumped up, pointing your gun at the closest demon. Right away, the remaining demons had their guns aimed at the hostages’ heads. Your colleagues had done as you, guns held towards the demons. Now you got a proper look at them. They were towering over the hostages, who were crouched on the floor in intimidation. The one in front of you only chuckled. Humans didn’t laugh like this. It was pure malice and recklessness displayed in front of you.

“I thought we told you to stay away,” he began. The only thing you could truly note about him was his mouth. The rest was covered by his mask and where the white of eyes should have been, two orbs of darkness sat, eying you like prey.

“Let the hostages go and we won’t shoot you,” you ordered, with a surprisingly calm voice.

“And why would we do that when we can just kill them?” he asked. His gaze momentarily focused on his fellow demons, as if he was a stand-up comedian and he had just delivered the funniest punch line.

“You will die if you harm even one of the hostages,” you stated.

“Oh, is that so? Humans never learn, do they?” he said. This monster was completely insane. And suicidal too, it seemed. “Go on, shoot.”

First, you thought he was urging your team to shoot. Then you realized, he was looking at the demon closest to you. The very demon you had your gun pointed at. He was asking the other demon to shoot at the hostages. You were preparing to pull the trigger.

But then your mind started racing. You stared at him intensely as your heartbeat quickened uncontrollably in your chest. The dark eyes. The soft lips. His skinny frame and gentle hands. You knew exactly who this demon was. You’d be able to pick him out of any crowd. What the hell was he doing here?

“Shoot!” the bigger demon shouted again, but Chanhee didn’t budge.

“I told you he was goddamn useless,” one of the others said. “Get rid of him.”

“You don’t deserve any of this money,” the bigger demon snarled, and his hand went to his belt. You knew there were human lives on the line. What you were about to do could be considered not only stupid, but wildly imprudent. Emotions were supposed to be left out of police operations. But how could you not have been blind with shock? You were going to let your heart control your body over your mind, and if it was deadly so be it. The bigger demon was now raising his arm at Chanhee.

Before you knew it, you had jumped out from behind the counter. You mirrored the demon’s actions and you pointed at him, pulling the trigger. At the same time, his gun went off. Just in time, you had pushed your body between the two demons.

“Y/N!” Chanhee shouted.

The bullet hit your shoulder and you fell backwards. Burning heat spread through your insides as you stumbled and reached for anything, anyone to hold on to. You could only think of Chanhee, and how your bullet had pierced through the big demon’s skull perfectly. Then, your colleagues opened the gunfire. The shots sounded almost muffled through the intense amount of adrenaline in your blood and the initial effect of being hit. Your body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and a wave of agony spread through you. You grimaced at the excruciating pain, hands grasping at your shoulder. All you could see was white, before you sank onto your back and the world went dark.

~approximately 18 months later~

“Y/N,” Chanhee said, for the sixth time within the last ten minutes. You pressed your phone harder against your ear, holding it up with your shoulder. Your hands were too busy writing a police report on your laptop.

“Chanhee, I promise I’m writing the last few sentences already,” you assured him. He liked it when you came home early, leaving enough time to relax on the couch with him, instead of falling into bed like a corpse. Today, he was especially insistent, urging you to stay on the phone with him until you had finally packed up your things and left the police department. You guessed he was just trying to make sure you couldn’t stop somewhere along the way and start working on something new. And maybe that fear wasn’t so far off the truth.

“I’m done,” you said. “Status report: I’m switching off the laptop. Now I’m taking my bag. I’m getting up. I’m locking my office behind me. I’ll be home in twenty minutes or less.”

His laughter on the other side of the line made you smile. You couldn’t wait to see his face and get to hug him.

“Alright. I can’t wait,” he said. “I’ll see you.”

The walk home was calm. A soft breeze went through your hair and in the distance, you heard sirens of an ambulance. Promptly you were catapulted back to your memories and into the vehicle after you had been shot. Going in and out of consciousness, you kept repeating one name: Chanhee. When you woke up in the hospital bed, you half-expected him to be sitting there, waiting for you to wake up. But of course that was not the case. He had committed a crime – or at least tried to commit one. The prosecution was in his favor. They acknowledged his compliance with the police and his hesitation to hurt the hostage. Plus, he sold out the other demons and showed no resistance at any point. His regret and sorrow was apparent, nonetheless his mistake caused him 11 months in prison – by far less than the other robbers got.

People had called you insane for standing by him. Others thought you brave and newspapers named him the first good demon in the world. Every week you visited him in prison, often more than once. You made the most of your short time to talk, and with your kindest words you let him know that you were still here for him. Every visit you learned a bit more about how he had ended up in that bank.

After he had walked out on you, he had nowhere to go. So, after strolling the street mazes for days he found himself in the very demon night club he had once warned you about. Most unsavory figures twisted his mind into thinking doing good was no use. They made him believe he would never be able to escape the demon in him, and he might as well embrace the malice. They more or less pulled him along to the robbery, while he overthought the whole thing. It hurt you, seeing him cry as he recounted how scared he was when he saw the hostages. Some of them ended up injured, but all survived. You knew he would have never forgiven himself, had one of them died.

The day you picked him up from prison was a day you’d never forget. Holding each other in your arms felt so right, and you had missed it tremendously. His months at the prison hadn’t been easy, but you made sure he felt loved and cared for when he finally returned. He almost refused to believe that you would open your doors to him again. It was no question to you. You’d always be here for him. Even when he insisted you keep your office at home locked at all times. You trusted him almost a hundred percent by now. His demon only came out rarely, especially in times of stress or intense negative emotions. But you only treated him with kindness, and he gave back just as much of it.

“Chanhee I’m home!” you shouted as you entered your home.

“I’m up here,” he spoke. You ran up the stairs, excited to see him. Your eyes fell onto the open door of your office. For a moment, your heartbeat quickened as you approached it. You must have forgotten to lock the door that morning. Slowly, you pushed it open.

“Hello,” he grinned. You only chuckled as you watched him, sitting by your desk, a book in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind me being in here. This chair is so comfortable.”

“It’s all good,” you said. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Umm…Friday?” he asked.

“It’s been exactly two years since you first started living here,” you said. “I think we should get some take out and celebrate, what do you say?”

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” he said. “I’d love that. And you know what? I think I’m ready to start the internship at the police station.”

You smiled proudly. He had put his book down and was getting up.

“You’re going to do good things,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. He finally had found his place. His home. And you were never going to give up on him.

#chanhee scenarios #new scenarios #tbz new scenarios #tattoos #the boyz icons #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz angst #tbz fluff #chanhee fluff #chanhee angst #chanhee x reader #kpop fluff #kpop angst #demon au #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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definegodliness · 3 years ago

Text

Intermezzo

Cloud nine exists no more. It has been forcefully swept from under my feet, and now, surrounded by anxiously jiving debris, I plummet; deliver my shredded consciousness to all gods, both new and old, into the vacuous eye of delivery's storm and hear naught but silence, as if the raging matter surrounding my flightless corporeality is but a mindless, soulless distraction; destructive, therein. The clean-swept dust bath closes in, and I can see nothing but the red of dire Earth; aridness in a canister of compacted losses, circling nauseatingly if I were to track and follow one speck of its respective alloy until witnessing its total assimilation within the whole.

I mourn every smidgen of incandescence turned tin, fixed into place to keep agreed upon reality in, till it sickens me and I toss the weight of my temporal vessel around mid-flight to ethereally recumbent behold the distant star of life as last a beacon of hope; bright enough to blind me from the shames and pities of the human lament.

I fall. I see.

The star of life shines its mutating radiance boldly, mocking all conscious beings, more temporal, for their quests in keeping the status quo of this exact existence.

"Deliver me from evil!", I beg the star of life.

Solar flares rip and tear at my mortal husk, till exposed is all that which matters at this point in time, and being.

I plummet, still.

“What am I now but the eternally bright light of my undying soul, claiming its birthright of resonance within time's ever rippling, as if a shooting star, or comet, illumining the clearest midnight blue of empty nightly skies; the void, far beyond the edges of space which one might call 'emptiness', and the girth and length of my magnum dong, now drastically elastically flopping within the tension between gravity and air resistance?”

Confusion. Yes, confusion and bedazzlement take a hold of me. Perhaps I should not have opted to deliver my shredded consciousness to ‘all’ gods, new and old, ‘cause what bullshit deity would have the totality of my humanity be a sparkling and pulsating orb of brilliant luster, only to then attach the fleshly variant of two semen packed avocados and a forearm sized zucchini? It is an outrage! Thus, by lack of arms, I shake my wiener upward, brandishing it like an angered fist toward whatever divine creator thought it funny, or agreeable, to reduce a human to a mere materialization of procreation.

“Who does that?”, I ask, “... why?”

There is no answer.

Only giggles in the wind.

I fall. I fall, still.

And, well... still. As a matter of fact, it is taking so long I get bored and entertain current existential contemplations: the duality of man; flesh versus soul; instinct versus cognizance; lust versus love, lustful love, and loving lust, and all imaginable shades of nuanced reality that thrive in between; all the while watching that star of life, fading into the distance, until the sheer weight of my ever engorging avocados by universal law of gravity cause me to topple back into an ethereally procumbent position.

Purple lightning rages against the pink German World War II helmet, which feels nice, I gotta say, and I realize I am part of some blitzkrieg beyond my understanding. My rock solid prophet’s staff splits the sea and all the turmoil of pantha rhei skips a beat to unveil the Big Bang’s Birthplace, starfish spread-eagled; so blatantly lascivious its design can only 'be' to mock my innate yearning spiritual transcendence. Ghastly, yet still, I plummet further. Through the entirety of Earth. Further, deeper. Helpless in this what can only be the inescapability of divine purpose. After all, whereto can I otherwise go without letting my deplorable rendition of palpability break the laws of time and space? So much for self-determination.

I crash down.

Down the center of the Milky Way.

Ever accelerating, caught in the gravitational field of Sagittarius A*. I am. And as I am, I am evidently designed to fill, or plug, this manifestation of lamentable ever expanding emptiness and darkness. As such I make amends with the insignificance of this carnal existence. Hushing my conscience with the fact that I actually have no spine at this given moment, therefore being spineless is more than justifiable, it is logical.

I give in.

Then, a bright flash of light, as the embodiment of godly origin flicks her fingers last milliseconds before impact and sends the remnants of my drab corporeality down the drain of existential settlement where all past's hapless human chances at godliness tragically consist. She does it casually, to then ask me if this is where I want to shoot for the future, before I can even think to try and push forth in an attempt to reach dead end's greatest depths for the sole sake of hedonism to begin with. I realize, what she offers is a lifetime's gratifying 'all'--, and yet simultaneously that this gratification is relativizable to the point of non-existence as there is no way to puncture the veil of finiteness into the never ending.

Despite the ecstasy of vortex-fall; the vehemence of plummet, my god given pride in heated surging sanguine engorged masculinity falls to dwindle limp in a sad shriveling retreat outside the Virgin Miley's rhythmically pulsating, monkey-fist-grabbing-dick contracting dirty dawn star.

"This is not what life is"; my genuflection.

She smiles, "it isn't."

Then, as if in a dream, the Virgin Miley vaporizes into a million shimmers of sparkling stardust, and I am grounded; crashed through the harsh permafrost, until splicing the rock of another dimension’s version of earth. I examine the shape of the crater left by my plummet, wondering where I am. I ask the aether, addressing the chaste one, yet she gives no answer.

Only giggles in the wind...

All too familiar.

I understand, now. Yet I cannot dwell on my understanding. Suddenly, circling all around me, a mob of enraged Swiss men and women; complaining the Matterhorn has been decimated by my plummet from death’s plane of ‘settling’. I try to explain to them spiritual evolution is about peaks of existence, as so considered by any remotely achievable esoteric consensus, being utterly shattered; pulverized into fertile grounds of brand new inspiration and realizations, yet they have none of it. They shout and seethe I am an idiot, who should have simply traversed the depths of tightly constricting predestination and be done with it.

Then, in a last ditch effort to talk some sense into them, I wrap the fleshly part of my current reality like a pink veiny tentacle around the holy triangle, the Toblerone, holding it out to them, letting my spirit’s echoing voice resound:

"He who is without caramel bits, cast the first chocolate."

Alas, they have none of it. Instead, the angry Swiss mob closes in, among them I now see some carry steam wafting bronzen kettles. I am entrapped. No way to wriggle myself out of this, and wriggling is all I can. As punishment, they slather the brightly pulsating core of my eternal spiritual purity (and my throbbing, wildly flopping curd spewing boa constrictor) with the molten golden of drooping fondue cheese. Agonizingly. Thus, the orb of light, my sorry soul, is by time and negligence; ignorance, and society’s cruel demands, yet again encased. Dimmed. Damned to once more partake in this loop of ever reoccurrence. When they leave, I am once again, but man. Another lifetime beckons.

The whole endeavor has left me ravenous.

I start eating myself.

#absurdism #creative writing #prose #writers #writing #alt lit #writers on tumblr #chronicles of miley #weird #i don't know how to tag these things

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lovemeleo · 4 years ago

Text

O’Knutzy comes to babysit

To say this was heavily requested would be an understatement! Not only is this the next part in my Asher Pascal series but O’Knutzy is babysitting! This took forever but I hope you all enjoy it! These OCs and their world belong to the always amazing @lumosinlove.

If you haven’t read the rest of the Asher Pascal series, here is the master list!

CW: mild injury and mention of blood (nosebleed)

_______________________________________

The week after they took Asher to practice was filled with the same question.

“Le? Where’s Le?”

After the seven days of it, Sirius and Remus finally broke. They called Leo, asking if he would want to stop over and see Asher.

Leo was of course excited from the minute they asked, “That sounds great but I’ve got an even better idea. Y’all don’t get to go out too often, why don’t you guys go out to dinner or something? I can stay in, watch Asher for the day or night or whatever.”

Raising an eyebrow, Sirius looked over at Remus before answering, “You sure you wanna do that, Nut? He’s moving like crazy now, getting into shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I would really love to. Just tell me a day and I’ll be there.”

Now today was finally the day. Asher had been running around all morning, a consistent chant of “Le Le Le” following wherever he went. Sirius and Remus had decided to spend the day out, doing dinner and a couple of the touristy stops nearby.

The doorbell rang around two and Asher was scooting his way down the stairs to the door. He still hadn’t mastered walking down the stairs, but he was getting there.

“Le Le Le!” Asher stood happily, waiting for one of his dad’s to open the door. He was excited but he knew better than to open the door without them.

Remus followed after, swinging the door open. He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, “I should’ve known you’d all be coming.”

“We’re a package deal, Loops.” Logan said with a grin as Asher ran at Leo’s legs, staring up at him happily.

Leo swung him up onto his hip as they all made their way into the living room where Sirius was pulling on his jacket, “Ah, I see you brought backup?” He smiled, handing Remus his jacket.

“Eh, they would’ve gotten all whiny if I left them behind.” Leo shrugged, bouncing Asher as he wiggled happily in his arms.

Two identical sounds of offense came from next to him but Leo ignored them, pressing kisses all over the giggling baby’s face.

Remus smiled as he put on his own jacket, “There’s food in the fridge. I put a list of foods that he’s been liking on the fridge, but honestly your guess is as good as mine if he’ll actually like it at that moment. We’ve got Disney Plus and Netflix, he’s not really picky with shows. He’s got a toy box in the basement by the rink as well as in his room, but he’d honestly play with anything. Diapers are all next to the changing table upstairs. If you need us, you have our numbers. Any questions?”

“Nope, we’ve got this, Loops. No worries.” Finn said with a grin, making a silly face at Asher, making him giggle and hide his face in Leo’s chest.

Sirius smiled, “Alright guys. We’re gonna head out then. Last thing, try to watch your language. He’s picking up words like crazy so if we come back and he’s swearing, I’ll have you running laps before you can say Désolé, got it?”

The three boys nodded, knowing that the captain would never joke about laps.

Remus and Sirius both leaned over, pressing a kiss to Asher’s curls, “We love you, bub. Be good for the Cubs, Ash, alright? No crazy parties!”

“Yes party!” Asher shouted back, giggling wildly as his dads pressed kisses to his face.

“Have a good day, guys!” Remus said as Sirius pushed him out the door.

And then they were alone. With a whole child. Not just any child but the captain of their team’s child.

Asher looked up at Leo, a small pout forming on his face, “Buh-bye?”

Rubbing his hand along the little boy’s back, Leo nodded, “Yeah, they went buh-bye, but they’ll be back later. Did your daddies feed you though? You hungry?”

“‘Gettios!” Asher perked up in Leo’s arms, looking up at him excitedly as they walked to the kitchen. Logan pulled open the fridge, digging through until he found a large bowl filled with Spaghettios.

Asher cheered as soon as he saw the bowl, making the boys laugh. “Guess that’s the right one, Lo.” Finn said, sitting at the kitchen table as Logan made a small bowl up and heat it up in the microwave.

After settling Asher in his highchair, Leo sat down in the chair next to him, fixing a bib around his neck. Finn couldn’t help the happy sigh he let out. It’s just.. This was domestic as fuck. Like Asher obviously wasn’t their kid, but they were all taking care of him and Logan was making food and Leo was getting him all buckled in. One day.

Logan brought the bowl over, grabbing one of the baby spoons from the drawer, “Can he feed himself?” He asked, setting the bowl on the little highchair table.

Finn shrugged, “Give him the spoon and see.”

They all turned to Asher who stared right back, “”Gettios?” He asked, his hands moving towards the bowl.

Logan quickly held out the spoon to him, “Want the spoon, Ash?”

Asher grabbed it, “Frozen spoon!” he said excitedly as he began to eat. Most of it even made it into his mouth. Most of it.

“We’re gonna have to give him a bath.” Leo said, leaning into his hand as he watched Asher absolutely demolish the food.

Finn shrugged, “I can do it. Can’t be too hard.” Logan couldn’t help the loud laugh that he let out.

“Yeah because bathing a squirmy child is just the easiest thing.”

As soon as Asher was finished, Leo got him unbuckled from the chair and handed him off to Finn, “Go on then. Let us know if you need any help.”

They heard Asher giggling all the way up the stairs as Finn took him up to the bathroom. Leo shook his head with a laugh as he wiped off the high chair.

“So how soaked do you think he’s going to be?” Logan asked as he wrapped his arms around Leo from behind.

Leo chuckled as he put the sponge back in the sink, “Oh, he’s definitely going to have to borrow some clothes from Loops.” He turned to press a kiss to Logan’s forehead before leading him into the living room.

They both flopped back onto the couch, letting out a breath.

“You’re good with him, mon soleil,” Logan murmured, reaching to intertwine his fingers with Leo’s. “Honestly so cute.”

Leo smiled softly, tracing over the older boy’s knuckles, “I like kids. Like they don’t judge you and they’re just so giggly and happy. It’s nice. They’re nice.”

A loud splash echoed from upstairs, followed by a happy squeal.

“Finn better not swear in front of him. I’m not doing laps because he can’t hold his tongue.” Logan glanced up the stairs to the noise.

The bathroom door creaked open, “Can someone get him some clothes? And also some clothes for me?” Finn yelled.

Leo laughed as he got up, “I called it. You wanna go grab Asher some clothes and I’ll get him some of Loops’ clothes.”

They met back at the bathroom, the door swinging open to Finn, completely soaked, and a grinning Asher in a cute hooded monster towel.

“Hi.” Asher said with a smile, his head resting on Finn’s chest.

Finn rolled his eyes fondly, “So I cleaned up the bathroom. Can you guys take him to get dressed so I can get dressed?”

Reaching out, Logan smiled, “Yeah, I’ll take the little monster.” Asher cuddled up to him as soon as he was in Logan’s arms.

They took him out of the bathroom, getting Asher dressed in his own room. Logan tickled his belly as they got him into a clean diaper and then a clean pair of pjs.

Finn joined them not long after, hair still wet but in dry clothes, “I threw my clothes in their dryer. What’s the plan now?”

“Why don’t we go downstairs and Ash can show us his toys?” Leo suggested, looking over at the little boy.

A smile quickly formed on Asher’s face, showing the few teeth that had started growing in, “Okay! I show you.” Asher tapped on Logan’s chest until he was set down, and quickly ran to basement stairs.

The three of them were off to follow him, getting to the top just as he began his butt-scooting journey.

“Well, that’s fu- really adorable.” Finn caught himself, remembering Sirius’s warning about the swearing.

Logan chuckled, “Nice catch, mon rouge.” He said before following after Asher. By the time they made it down, Asher had already begun pulling various toys out of the box.

Looking around the room, Finn let out a whistle. The entire basement was amazing. An entire rink, a giant TV in the corner with multiple consoles, and toys everywhere. He wondered how often Loops and Cap came down here to skate? He walked over to the short wall that wrapped around the rink, opening the small gate that blocked Asher from getting on. “This is wicked. Imagine having your own rink in your basement..”

Logan leaned over the wall, “I feel like Cap spends a lot of time down here. Honestly, Loops too.” He muttered.

“My daddies skate all the time. I skate too.” Asher explained as he pulled out of the last of his toys.

Smiling, Finn watched as the toys were spread across the floor, “You skate too? Are you any good, Little Loops?”

Asher was up and heading towards the rink before they could blink, “I skate good.” He assured, grabbing the small pair of balance skates that sat next to the gate and pulled them on over his socks.

They watched as he stepped carefully onto the ice. His legs wobbled a bit as he moved his feet forward, sliding across the little rink. He was actually doing pretty well for a small child, and Finn said as such.

But Finn spoke too soon.

After getting complimented, Asher turned to grin at Finn but he must’ve turned too quick. His left foot slipped back, making him flop face first into the ice. The basement was quiet as Asher pushed himself up, a stream of blood beginning to fall from his nose. As he saw it drop onto the ice, his eyes widened and he burst into tears, a loud wail cutting through the silence.

Leo quickly jumped onto the ice, picking Asher up, “Go get a paper towel or something!” He said to the guys as he got Asher off the ice.

“I bleed!” Asher cried, his fingers gripped at Leo’s shirt.

Finn quickly came back down the stairs, holding a washcloth, “Hey, look at you, bud. Getting your first hockey injury before you even get a pair of skates. You’ll be a pro before you know it!” He said, putting on a smile even though Leo could see he was freaked out. It appeared to be working though as Asher’s tears began to slow.

“I-I be a pro?” Asher mumbled as Finn wiped his face before carefully pinching his nose. They all had bloody noses before and knew what to do, but it was a bit different with a little kid.

Logan came down with new clothes for him to change into, since his current outfit had blood on it, as well as an ice pack. They all moved over to the cushy couch pushed into the corner of the room, Asher sitting in Leo’s lap.

“Of course you’re gonna be a pro, Ash. You’re already skating so well.” Logan assured him as Finn kept his fingers pinched over his nose.

Asher whimpered softly at the pressure on his sore nose, tears forming in his eyes again, “Ow, that’s ouch.”

Finn winced, but kept the pressure, “I know, bud. But we’ve gotta keep it for a couple more minutes. Then maybe we can have some ice cream?”

He perked up a bit at the mention of ice cream, “I like ice cream.” Asher whispered, his eyes flickering between the three boys as if to make sure they were telling the truth. As if any of them could tell him no.

“Of course, little man. After we’re done, we’ll get you in your clean pjs and then have some ice cream.” Logan reassured him.

When they hit the 10 minute mark, Finn carefully removed his fingers and the washcloth. Luckily the bleeding had stopped. They all let out a quiet sigh of relief, but they were still going to have to explain to Sirius and Remus why their son’s face was bruised.

Logan and Leo carefully pulled off the dirty pjs, replacing them with a clean cozy pair as Finn threw the dirty clothes and washcloth into the wash.

He came back to Asher curled up on Leo’s lap, sniffling softly as Logan helped him hold the ice pack on his nose.

Asher perked up as he came back, “Ice cream, Finn? We have ice cream now?”

“Yeah, bub. Ice cream now.” Finn said with a smile.

They all made their way to the kitchen and sat at the table. Leo kept Asher on his lap, holding him close. Seeing him fall like that really freaked him out and he wasn’t about to let him go.

Finn pulled a bowl out of the cabinet, setting it on the table. A small frown appeared on Asher’s face as he watched Finn put a small scoop of ice cream into the bowl.

“Where’s your bowls?” Asher asked quietly, holding the ice pack to his face.

Logan leaned into his hands as he watched Asher, “That’s your ice cream, bud.”

Asher shook his head, “No, I share. You too.”

Chuckling softly, Finn grabbed three more bowls and gave them all the same portion, “Alright, we’ll all have some, Ash.” The little boy wiggled happily, leaning back into Leo again.

“Now why don’t you let us help you eat this? That way you can keep holding your ice pack.” Leo offered as Finn placed the bowls out.

Asher paused, looking between his ice cream and the ice pack before letting out a soft sigh, “Yeah, that’s good.”

They all enjoyed their ice cream, each of the boys taking a turn feeding Asher his. In between them giving him bites, he began dozing off on Leo’s chest.

“Looks like it’s time for bed.” Logan whispered, setting his spoon into his bowl. Leo looked out the window, surprised at how quickly the day had gone by. Sirius and Remus would be home soon. Finn collected the empty bowls, getting them into the dishwasher.

Asher sniffled softly, moving the ice pack from his face, “Nuh-Night time?”

Carefully resting the small boy on his hip, Leo made his way up to his room, “Yeah, bub. Time for bed.” He pulled back the blankets in the crib, gently laying Asher down in the middle.

Asher let out a big yawn, wincing as the movement twinged his nose, “Night-night, Le. Love you.” He brought his hand to his mouth, blowing Leo a kiss.

Leo couldn’t hold back the giant smile that spread on his face as he blew a kiss right back, “Night, Ash. Love you too.” He murmured. There was a noise machine next to the night light, and Leo turned on both of them before heading back to the living room.

When he got back in, both of his boys were sprawled on the couch. “Who knew taking care of a kid was so hard?” Finn muttered, his head on Logan’s lap.

“Literally everyone knows that, sweetheart.” Leo said with a laugh, plopping into the empty spot on the couch before turning on the TV for some background noise.

Logan glanced at the TV before looking back at Leo, “We’re gonna have to tell Loops and Cap we broke their kid,”

Just as Finn was about to reply, the front door was opening.

“Well, the house is still standing so it couldn’t have been that bad.” Sirius said with a laugh as he tossed his keys on the table.

Remus hung his jacket up, looking over the pile of boys on his couch, “You all have a good day? How was he?”

There was a pause before it erupted out of Logan, his eyes wide, “We broke him!”

Finn quickly smacked him in the arm, “Jesus, Lo. Why would you say it like that?” He exclaimed.

“You broke him?” Sirius asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Leo let out a sigh, “We didn’t break him. He was showing us his skating skills downstairs, and slipped. Hit his face on the ice. He’s okay, his nose bled a bit but Finn bribed him with ice cream.” He explained.

There was a pause before Remus let out a laugh, “God, he’s got the worst balance. Did his face bruise this time?”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed, “This time?”

Sirius nodded, “Oui, cette fois. He trips over his own feet, but he’s getting better. Or he was. Probably trying to show off for you guys.” Finn could feel Logan let out a sigh of relief.

“We told him he was a pro now because he got a hockey injury,” Leo said with a grin. “He just fell asleep like 15 minutes ago though.”

Sitting in the chair across from them, Remus smiled, “Well it sounds like an eventful day. W-Wait, are those my clothes, Finn?”

Finn looked down, blush spreading on his face, “Um yeah. Sorry, Loops. Ash decided that I also needed a bath? But I was still wearing my clothes… And Cap’s would’ve been way too big.”

Sirius let out a laugh, “Love that you got stuck with bath duty, Harz. But really, thanks for watching him for us. It was nice to get out of the house without having to worry about keeping an eye on him. We really appreciate it. Did you guys wanna stay here? You all look beat.”

“Nah, thanks though, Cap. I think we’ll head home.” Leo said as he corralled his boys, handing them their jackets.

After they said their good-byes, the Cubs made their way out to the car and started to head home. It was quiet for a bit before Logan broke the silence.

“Well that effectively healed me of my baby fever.”

Finn and Leo burst out laughing in the front seat, glancing back at him in the rearview, “No babies, mon chou?”

Humming softly, Logan leaned back into his seat, watching the smiles spread on his boys’ faces, “Maybe. Maybe one day.”

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